Daddy comes across me randomly and tells me a few things about what he does and I express the need that I’ve always wanted to try, that I like coloring and even admit to wearing pull-ups sometimes. I’m intrigued and we talk over drinks. I go back to his house and fall asleep unknowingly drinking a Xanax cocktail. I wake up in a different place. Not the same house it’s morning time and the birds are creeping outside a window toward the ceiling it’s a basement and the door is locked. I’m in a small bed, pink sheets, wrists cuffed to the bedframe. There are a few things in the room. Tv mounted. A chest. There are benches and hooks for the suspension I’m in white panties, topless, my nipple rings still in. I wait forever before daddy comes in the room telling me things about how little girls need rules and discipline and a good daddy for them. How you know all about my history with men and why it never worked. How daddy is going to keep me and condition me and make me what I was born to be.
He comes over to me and feels my pussy hard running his fingers up against my clit and thighs, grabbing my nipple and twisting while I squirmed. He moved his hand to my mouth sticking a few fingers on my tongue then gagging me. I struggled for a breath. He removed my wrist cuffs and pulls me to a spanking bench where he again straps me down tight my legs spread clit against the bench, ass in the air. A few hard spanks to my sweet meat and he moves to my mouth, closing my nose forcing me to open wide while he slides his cock in. He fucks my mouth deeper and deeper my hair as his handle. Gets close to cumming then stops. Daddy goes back to my ass and back hitting it with floggers, belts and canes, making it turn bright red and bruise, making me cry as he strikes the skin over and over again. He slides inside of me then, his hips pressing against my tinder ass, telling me what a tight pussy I have. I’m crying And floating and taking it as he shoots his cum into my pocket, pulls out, gives another slap to my ass and mutters good girl. My body relaxes from the lack of stimulation until I hear something roll up behind me. Hear a machine turn on and feel a cold thick dildo sliding into me in a robotic rhythm. In and out, in and out. He laughs as I struggle the attempts useless against the binds. He takes the panties that were on me and forces them into my mouth, grabbing ductape and wrapping it around the cloth, my head hair, and all. He picks up a gag that looked like a muzzle, securing it right around my ears.
Moan all you want kitten he says, attaching weights to my nipple barbells, the weird pulling them towards the ground, the machine pushing his cum further into my holes, gushing and making noise from the machine starting to work faster, harder. He walks away and slams the door.
In and out in and out.
He leaves me there for hours until my pussy is raw and stretched out and hurting. By myself my ass stinging and red, muscles sore. In and out.
Daddy comes back and turns the machine off pleased with himself and the results of his machine.
His hands slide across my pussy lips but I can barely feel them, my clit is puffed out and pink. I moan my mouth tired from being open my eyes pleading. He plays with my pussy his hand stroking his own cock in pleasure. He cums again making sure for it to go inside and around my pussy. I’m tired now and he leads me to the bed where he lays me down. I don’t fight him. He cuffs my arms above my head, and a waist strap, pushing my legs apart roughly. He slides a butt plug in and out of the opening making it wet from my own pussy juices. He pushes it slow into my ass, making sure it goes in far enough to stay, he smiles, grabbing baby powder and sprinkling it all over my butt. Rubbing it into the sore skin. Sliding a diaper under my butt, fastening it, and then adding another on top of it. Extra padding for a sore bum he tells me and I squirm to get out of them. He gives me a kiss on the forehead not bothering to remove my gag. He covers me with a blanket and turns off the light. A pink princess night light glowing in the corner. He tells me he will see me in the morning and that tomorrow will start my new life and training as his.
It was difficult for Angela to be her own dominant. So far though, that is as far as it had gone. Single, thirty, and lonely she daily did her duty by going to work in the office and spending eight hours a day typing the boring reports her boss dictated. At the office, she always appeared a modest professional woman. Little did they guess her fantasies. Besides herself there were four men and four other women who worked at the small legal firm and Angela would have gladly submitted to any one of the of either gender if they only had the stones to command her. Of course, she never talked about any of this at the office. That talk was saved for the evenings and weekends when she would sit naked in her small apartment typing away at her computer in a BDSM chat room where she called herself “The Ice Slave.”
She called herself the Ice Slave for a simple reason. She had been at the store one day and seen a device that was used to make your own Popsicles. Basically, it was a plastic tray that had six round tubes that you poured Kool-Aid into and then you inserted these plastic handle things into the tubes, then you put it into the freezer until the Kool-Aid froze. Angela found that if she filled the mold with water she would get six really nice frozen cocks with plastic handles on them and she would sit on a large fluffy towel and fuck herself with the frozen dildos while she typed out her fantasies or read fantasies others were typing out.
Fantasy after fantasy after fantasy had been read and written for more than a year before someone mentioned the phrase self-bondage. Bondage was what she craved but she had trouble finding ways to bind her self where she was actually unable to release herself for a time but then able to release her self later when her time was up.
Eventually, she met one other person in the chat room who both lived in the same city and appeared to be someone she could trust. The other person was a girl whose screen name was “Brittle” and on their first meeting, Angela found Brittle just as confused and lonely as she was.
They tried having a relationship but it just didn’t work as either one of them wanted to be dominant. They both craved the submission. They tried having dates where one of them would bind the other and later release her but Brittle always bound Angela in a way that was appealing to Brittle, not to Angela, and of course, the same was true when Angela was in charge. Eventually, they agreed that they could not be lovers or BDSM partners, but they could help each other out as safe-calls. The way it worked was that they exchanged keys, and then Angela could call Brittle and request that she come to Angela’s apartment at a prescribed time simply to unbind Angela. Then, Angela could start earlier and bind herself in some way and remain bound until Brittle got there to simply unbind her. Angela could also return the favor.
The first time they tried it Angela arrived at Brittle’s apartment to find the young girl naked and standing with her hands locked in standard handcuffs to the ceiling fan. The key had been tossed on the floor where Brittle could see it but not quite reach it with her toes. They understood it was dangerous. I mean they both lived in apartment buildings. What would happen if some burglar had broken in to rob the place two hours before Angela was scheduled to show up and found Brittle there naked and bound? What would have happened if there had been a fire in the apartment down the hall? What would have happened if Angela would have gotten in a car crash on her way over to free Brittle?
The two women discussed these things and acknowledged the danger but they both realized that the danger they were placing themselves in was the thing that got them off, so they continued. They did refine things a bit. For instance, Angela would rarely tell Brittle to come over at say 3:00 PM. She would be more likely to say something like “I will bind me at noon, come over to free me sometime between 3:00 and 7:00.”
Angela had also figured out a way to bind her self for a good deal of time and still be able to release herself without the help of her safe-call. She would use her old friend, ice, to accomplish this. So she started working on her most complex project to date.
It started by clearing everything out of her small dining room. Living by herself she hardly ever used the dining room anyway so it was no big deal to give up space. Once the dining room was cleared she bought some lumber and built a special chair. Basically, it was a sawhorse with the long part made out of a sturdy 4×4 and the rest built out of 2x4s and all screwed together with stout long screws. It was 18 inches high and about three feet long. She would sit on this sawhorse as part of her bondage. She placed the horse at one end of the dining room. Since she would be sitting on it for a good deal of the time she added a wooden plug made from a shovel handle that was two full inches in diameter and tapered into a round point at the end. She cut off six inches of the handle and threw out the rest of the shovel. She mounted the wooden dildo right in the middle of the seat of the sawhorse so that she would have to impale her ass on it as she sat. She affixed it with plenty of good glue and let it dry so that it was firmly a part of the piece of furniture.
She added leather straps to the legs of the sawhorse so that when she sat on it she could spread her legs and buckle them into the straps holding them open. She also added a large leather belt that ran from one side of the seat to the other. Once she had sat down on the bench with the shovel handle firmly inside her she would buckle this strap across her lap so that she would not be able to raise herself up off the seat freeing herself of the dildo. Of course, with her hands-free she would easily be able to unbuckle herself and free herself any time she wanted, but, she did not intend to allow her hands to remain free.
Using a bracket she firmly bolted a pair of handcuffs to the side of the seat so that they would hang just below her pussy when she was sitting on the seat. The bench was now ready. She could easily be bound into the device. Once seated and buckled in she could snap the handcuffs onto her wrists and she would be firmly held until someone handed her the key. As anxious as she was to try it she resisted the urge to call Brittle and set up a scene. She was not yet done with her project.
She put two eyehooks in the ceiling and tested them for fit. She had to move the bench only slightly to get it in the correct position. She completed the device on a Monday night. She would test the timing and balance every single night that week, and then, if Brittle was available for Saturday evening, Angela would try the device on Saturday. It would be a long week at work.
Each day at work she would get through the day typing the boring reports while fantasizing about kneeling in front of one of her co-workers and accepting them as her Master or Mistress and pledging to do anything they might command no matter what it was that they commanded. Each night she would arrive home even more unfulfilled.
Friday night, before she went to bed but after the final test, she made the final preparation by filling an empty gallon jug, that had originally held milk, with water, and placing it in the freezer. That night she dreamed of being a man’s sex and bondage slave. He would tie her up in the most delicious ways and use her for quick fierce sex that was totally designed to please himself. Her pleasure would not matter a single iota to him. Somehow his face looked familiar. In her dream, the face never became really clear but Angela was pretty sure it was her boss at work. She fantasized of him often.
The first thing she did on Saturday morning was to open the freezer and check her water. As she knew it would be the milk container was full of hard frozen ice. Everything was ready. It would be a long day waiting. Angela made herself a light breakfast. It is all she would eat before her long afternoon of self-bondage. She wanted to fully digest and eliminate the meal before she strapped herself in. Her biggest fear was that Brittle might just happen to not be available. She had been disappointed twice in the past that way. She certainly did not blame Brittle for that. They both had lived. They both had commitments. They had no relationship and owed each other nothing. Briefly, Angela thought about perhaps cultivating a few more safe calls in her area so that if one were busy another might be called upon.
Waiting until almost noon Angela finally dialed the phone. Brittle answered on the second ring. Gratefully she was available. She did not fully understand, but she agreed when Angela instructed her not to come over at 5:00 PM but rather to call at that time, and if Angela did not answer the phone she would then come over.
Angela took a quick shower. She dried off. Naked she went into the dining room. The first thing she did was spread a good deal of KY Jelly on the butt plug of the bench. Then she cleaned her hands. She threaded the string through the two eye rings. To the one closest to the bench, she attached a three-pound weight and the key to the handcuffs. The weight pulled the string down so that the key hung right next to the handcuffs dangling in front of the bench. She then went to the other end of the room under the other eyehook. She first placed a large bucket on the floor directly under the eyehook. She attached a net to the string. She took the heavy frozen ice bottle out of the freezer and slid it into the net with the bottle upside down. The ice end of the string was now heavier than the weighted end with the key so it slid down and the key slid up to the ceiling. As the ice melted in the jug it would drip into the bucket but that would make that end of the device slowly less weighty and eventually the key would start slowly falling down to where she could reach it. If the tests proved correct it would take somewhere between three and four hours for the ice to melt enough for her to reach the key.
It was five hours before Brittle was scheduled to call her. She knelt naked on the dining room floor and closed her eyes. She commanded herself to stop being Angela and turn herself into the Ice Slave.
The ice slave opened her eyes and slowly rose. She walked over to the bench and looked at it. She reached up and pulled slightly on the key to make sure nothing was binding the string and the key would, indeed, fall as it was supposed to, then she let it go so that it was once again up by the ceiling. She sat slowly on the bench impaling her self as she did. First she buckled in her left ankle, and then she did her right ankle. With her legs now buckled fast to the chair, she reached for the seat belt and tightened herself down. She was almost completely bound now. She looked once up just to make sure the key was there. She slipped the steel cuff onto her left wrist and closed it. She did the same with her right wrist. She tried her bonds. They were firm. She would now be there, and only there until the ice melted and she could reach the key. Of course, if something bad happened, she would be there a little longer until Brittle got there.
The Ice Slave closed her eyes and felt her self slowly slip into a nice state of mind. Her breathing got easier. All of her duties and responsibilities magically lifted themselves off her shoulders. She could struggle as much as she wanted and she could not free herself. She was bound. She was attached to the piece of furniture. Her tender rectum would be the storage place for the big hard wooden dildo as it was no longer her choice. She could no longer choose to expel the piece of wood from her body. Her legs she could not close. She would sit there naked and opened-legged like a little whore. Closing her legs was no longer an option. She had cleverly removed that option from herself. She would now be an opened-legged little whore and there was nothing she could do about it. This removed any guilt from her for being an opened-legged little whore. She was not sitting up straight. Because of the way her hands were bound she had to slouch over a bit. She could not sit up straight. She briefly had a picture in her mind of her mother standing there, shouting “POSTURE” at her. The Ice Slave was no longer responsible for having perfect posture. Her bondage prevented it and she could not attain it no matter how she struggled. She would have bad posture until the ice melted. It was no longer her problem. She was now totally free to sit with bad posture. Because of the position, her hands were in she could reach absolutely nothing but her pussy. Nothing. Her sex was the only thing her hands could reach. Her fingers were free to touch her moist nether flesh whenever they dared. There were no priests or nuns in the room to tell her that masturbation was a sin. There were no co-workers to giggle at her if they caught her fingering her own twat. She had nothing to do at all for the next three or four hours except finger her twat. There would be no shame in keeping herself occupied for the time. The Ice Slave entered a totally relaxed state of mind. She had heard others on the BDSM chat room talk about being in space, or being in slave-space. She wondered if she were there. She knew the answer. Inwardly she smiled.
She opened her eyes. Briefly, though she had just started, she wondered how long she had been there. She looked around and noticed that she could not see a clock. She wondered if that were a total accident or if her subconscious had picked this place for the bondage bench because it would deprive her of a clock. She looked at the ice bottle. No ice had yet melted. The sides of the bottle appeared to be a bit sleeker as if moisture were now accumulating on it. She went back into her high-school physics class and remembered that air can hold a certain amount of water at a given temperature. Colder air can hold less than warm air so when the warm air of the room meets the cold side of the ice bottle the air would loose some of it’s heat into the bottle and would therefore be able to hold less water and it would be shed like dew on the side of the bottle. That meant, of course, that heat was in fact entering the bottle and melting the ice. She tried to force the science lesson from her mind. She closed her eyes and let her fingers work their first bit of magic on her pussy flesh. She knew her fingers would be quite busy for the next couple of hours. She smiled.
Later, with her fingers now still, resting themselves, and her eyes closed she slipped just a little out of her slave-space when she heard a tiny noise. She had been quite happy with the quiet. She lived in an apartment and it was a Saturday afternoon. She could not expect her neighbors to be completely quiet, but so far she had enjoyed almost total peace and quiet, and now some strange noise had disturbed her. For some reason, it did not frighten her but she did wish to identify the sound. She forced herself up out of her slave-space and opened her eyes. She tried to remember exactly what the sound had sounded like and realized that she did not remember the sound at all. She remembered being disturbed by a sound but could not define what the sound sounded like. She looked around at her surroundings and everything looked in place. She focused her eyes on the water bottle and was staring at it mesmerized as a single drop of water slipped out the neck of the bottle and fell through the air the short few inches to the bucket below and as the drop landed in the bucket it made a little ping. The Ice Slave realized that the ping of the water drop had been the noise that had disturbed her. Already it was starting. Her old friend’s ice was doing its work. She would now simply watch the drops fall until she was free. It would still be a long, long time, but it was beginning.
She closed her eyes and started her fingers working again. She forced a fantasy upon herself. In this particular version of the fantasy, her boss had placed her in this bondage position and the key was not falling to her as the ice melted, it was rather in his possession. In this fantasy, she would be his to do with as he wished until it would be his choice to release her. In this fantasy, bound as she was, she saw her boss look around the apartment until he found something suitable to stand upon. Whatever it was he carried it over and placed it on the floor between her opened legs. He then stood upon it bringing him to exactly the right height where he then grabbed two handfuls of her hair and shoved his cock in her mouth. He then, if only in this fantasy, fucked her face. When he was through he got down off the thing he was standing on but she noticed that he left the thing he was standing on right where it was on the floor between her legs. Perhaps he was not done standing on it for the day. In her fantasy, she looked down to the floor and saw that the thing her boss had stood upon was the footstool that she kept in the living room in front of her favorite chair. Her fantasy ended as she looked over into the living room and saw the footstool in front of her favorite chair. Silently she cursed the nice little footstool for spoiling the best fantasy she had conjured up that day.
Sometime later the shrill chirping of the phone in the kitchen startled her out of slave-space. She listened as the phone rang a second time and also heard the familiar recording of her voice as her answering machine answered the phone on the third ring. She looked quickly to the bottle of ice. It was almost full. She knew it was not time for Brittle to call. A telemarketer announced the amazing product he had for sale and left a number where he could be reached. Silence once again claimed the apartment. She looked around. To her left was the kitchen. The dining room was not separated from the kitchen except for a change in the color of the tiles on the floor. To her right was a low half-wall about three feet high that separated the dining room from the living room. She had installed eyehooks along the floor on each side of the low wall so she could bind herself naked, spread, and lewdly bent over the wall awaiting either a spanking or a fucking. It would not be her choice. It would be the choice of the fantasy man who had never actually been there to make the decision. Looking straight ahead of herself as she was sitting on the bench she saw the water dripping ice contraption. Beyond it was the small hall that led to her bathroom and bedroom. To the left in the small hall was her door to the outside world. She could not see the door from where she sat. If the ice thing didn’t work and she had to wait for Brittle she would not actually be able to see her until Brittle was fully three steps into the apartment. This did not worry about the Ice Slave. Rather it pleased her. Knowing for sure that it would never happen she still fantasized that Brittle would rather than releasing her force her to sign a slavery contract making her Brittle’s sex slave. It was not as good as fantasizing about belonging to a man like her boss, but for a long afternoon of free fantasy, it would do.
Her fingers were once again sore from straining and overuse so the Ice Slave let her fingers stop their ravishment of her tender cunt flesh. She slowly opened her eyes. She knew she was covered with sweat as she had made herself cum maybe six or seven times in the past hour, or what she expected must have been about an hour. She looked up and saw that the weight-bearing the handcuff key was a good two inches closer to her than it had been when she had started. She gazed over at the bottle of melting ice and noticed the bottle must have been about three-quarters full. She knew that the key would fall to her reach while there was still about a quart of ice in the gallon jug. Therefore she figured she was about a third of the way through her time. She wished it would slow down a bit. She wanted to savor this precious bit of bondage time. The tiny drips of the melting ice turned water was now a steady rhythmic cadence. It was not a fast pace, but she could now close her eyes and count heartbeats until the next drop hit the bucket and get it right within a single heartbeat.
She closed her eyes and decided to count one hundred drops. One, Two, Three, Four…
She once again looked up at the key. It was noticeably closer but still a bit above her head. In thirty or forty minutes the key would be eye level. It would be maddening to see it there just out of her reach. She hoped she would be able to resist the urge to touch it with her face. It would be really tempting. It would not make the ice melt faster but it would make the time waiting for the ice to melt seem to go by faster. She did not want though for the time to seem to go by faster. She wanted the time to go by as slowly as possible. She considered that when the key was as high as her face she might take the key in her mouth and keep it there not letting her hands have the key and extend her time on the bench until Brittle got there to release her. That would be cheating though so she knew she would not do that. The idea did tempt her though.
She heard a noise in the hall as if footsteps were walking the hall. She clearly heard them. They appeared to stop right in front of her door. She heard a loud hard rapping on the door, so loud it must have alerted every neighbor within a mile. She was about to scream something to send the intruder away and then she heard the unmistakable sound of Mrs. Clantsey across the hall opening her door and talking softly to the person. They must have been knocking on the door of the Clantsey’s instead of the Ice Slave’s door.
The butt plug was large and unforgiving. She had counted on it being uncomfortable but she had not counted on it actually causing her the steady pain that it had recently started doing. Flexing her knees and pressing up as hard as she could she was able to raise her body perhaps an inch and a half off the bench before the seat belt arrested her progress. She could not get anywhere near high enough to expel the dildo from her ass, but she could, briefly, take the pressure off her sore anus. Quickly though the pain would start building in her knees and thighs. She could not hold herself up in this awkward position straining against the belt for long, then she would slowly give in to the pain and let her self slide back down the inch and a half re-impaling herself firmly upon the hard wooden ass cock.
It became hard to fantasize. The ice had melted and dripped out of the bottle to such a degree that the key had now been lowered to her eye level. She could easily see it. It was perhaps six inches from the tip of her nose. It was actually hard to open her eyes and not focus on the key. It seemed darker in the apartment than it should have been. The Ice Slave estimated that it was two or two-thirty in the afternoon. She had, of course, drawn the shades on the windows, but they still let in a good deal of light. It was the middle of the afternoon. The apartment should have been flooded with natural light. Still, she could clearly see a shadow cast by the low living room wall towards her there in the dining room. She started to briefly panic. It should have been the middle of the afternoon but the shadow told her it must be almost sunset. At this time of year, the sun would set between 6:30 and 7:00 PM. That was significant. If it were true that late it meant that the ice was not melting fast enough and she had been on the bench twice as long as she thought she had been there. More than that though it meant Brittle was late. Did that mean that Brittle was not coming? For a terrorizing moment the Ice Slave slipped into being Angela and Angela then really started to worry, but just then she heard the low strong rumble of thunder. Less than a minute later Angela heard the unmistakable sound of rain pelting her building. It was simply darker outside because it was raining. Angela took a deep breath in through her nose and expelled it slowly through her mouth forcibly willing her heart to stop beating so fast. She calmed herself down, closed her eyes, and once again commanded the Ice Slave to make her appearance.
She once again opened her eyes. Her back was now starting to hurt from being in the same position for so long. She wished she could take a five-minute break and get off the bench, walk around, stretch, and then get back into the contraption, but that was quite impossible. The key had now been lowered to chest high on the bound girl. In the back of her mind, she always knew she would do what she was about to do but she had told herself not to think about it because she was way to mature to do it. The key was between her tits. Her nipples hardened on their own. Neither Angela nor the Ice Slave could control them. She thought back to the first time a boy had gotten his hand under her shirt and shoved her bra aside and felt her boobies as she referred to them back then. She had been a freshman in high school and he was a year older. They were in her parent’s living room watching TV. Her father was not yet home from work and her mother had just left for the grocery store. She thought they had been a bit too lax allowing her to have a male friend in the house alone. The boy’s hand had felt really nice and she wanted to let him go a good deal farther but somehow had said the right words to convince him to stop. Her nipples screamed out at her to stop the trip down memory lane and demanded that she give them some immediate attention. The three-pound weight was tied to the string, and the key was tied to the three-pound weight, and it was currently hanging from the ceiling right between her aching nipples. She sighed and gave in to their demands. She twisted her body to the right so that her left nipple scraped against the key. The key jiggled away but gravity brought it right back where it should have hung. She twisted her body to the left, which allowed her right nipple to scrape the key. “More” her nipples kept shouting. Eventually, she found the right rhythm of rocking her body back and forth to make the key bounce from one nipple to the other and back again. Vaguely, she wondered what would happen if this motion she was making, would knock the key off of the string. “Shut Up!” her nipples screamed at her.
“Naked whore slut naughty slave-tittie ping-pong”, as she called the little game lasted only about five minutes because the ice kept melting and soon the key was to low for her to reach bound as she was. Her nipples said a silent thank-you to the Ice Slave for their brief but necessary attention in this bondage session.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to imagine she was sitting much as she was on the bench but facing the other way with her back and ass exposed to the space of the dining room rather than the front of her. In this fantasy, there was no key or bucket of ice hanging in the way and someone was using a nice heavy leather flogger on her. She had a small collection of bondage gear that she had purchased from the Internet. She would occasionally sit on either the low wall or sometimes the footstool and hold the flogger in her hand and reach over her self and flog her back with the flogger. It felt good when she did it but so far she was the only person who had ever flogged her. She had asked Brittle to do it once but the girl had refused. She dreamt now that some man was behind her whip in hand wailing on her exposed flesh. She could almost feel the rhythm of the leather striking her. She desperately wanted to have that experience in real life.
The next time she opened her eyes the key had slipped down to belly level. If her math and testing proved accurate she had about thirty more minutes of bondage. Soon, almost too soon, she would slip out of the Ice Slave persona and Angela would take over and she would calmly enjoy the last few minutes of captivity. Then she would unlock the cuffs and free herself. She desperately wanted just a few more precious minutes as the Ice Slave in bondage, but Angela was almost to the surface now.
She clearly heard voices and footsteps out in the hall of the apartment building and wondered who was visiting her neighbor now. Then, clearly, she heard a key inserted in the lock on her own door. Then, in a real dramatic moment where her heart practically leaped from her chest she heard the key turned and the lock opened. Irrationally telling her self that if she kept quiet maybe they wouldn’t find her. She stared at the small entryway as she heard her own door unmistakably open. She immediately calmed down as she heard Brittle’s voice say “In here Master” but the panic quickly reasserted itself as Brittle came tumbling into the apartment as if she had been shoved in by someone very strong.
“Kneel Slave,” someone said. It was a familiar male voice but Angela could not immediately place it.
Brittle answered “Yes Master” and fell to her knees. “I am sorry Angela” she screamed when she turned her head towards the bound woman.
The door closed and she heard the lock turn. The man stepped into the room. Her boss took a good long look at his naked bound open-legged whore of a co-worker. “Hello little one,” he said in a nice calm every-day voice as if he were walking into a grand social event, “It is so nice of you to invite us to your little party.”
There was a big grin on his face. He looked at the contraption Angela had built and quickly understood its mechanics. Angela strained her fingers trying to grab the key. It was still a maddening two inches from her reach. Her boss calmly walked into the kitchen area and opened first one drawer and then a second finding a small sharp kitchen knife.
He walked over to where he could stand in front of Angela and reached down and took the string with the weight and key in his hand. “Ingenious,” he said. “I had no idea you were this well versed in the principles of engineering.”
With the knife, he cut the string and when he did the net and container of melting ice fell into the bucket on the floor with a bit of a splash. He addressed the kneeling Brittle “Go to the bathroom, get a towel, wipe up the spillage, empty the water into the kitchen sink, and put that stuff away, slave.”
“Yes Master,” were her only words as she quickly did his bidding.
So far Angela had not said a word since the two had entered her apartment and found her in such a vulnerable state. She could not think of a single word or phrase that would have, at the time, any significance, so she kept her mouth shut.
Her boss stood directly in front of her and for several minutes made no sound and also did absolutely nothing to mask the fact that he was taking a good long look at her, every inch of her.
Done, at least temporarily, with the lewd visual examination he began to speak. He told Angela that he had met Brittle in the BDSM chat room about two weeks ago and they had been seeing each other ever since. Brittle had talked about the Ice Slave and how they acted as safe-calls for each other. When she had called earlier that day he had been at Brittle’s house and had decided to accompany her here to meet the Ice Slave earlier than they were supposed to arrive. Until he had walked into the room he had not known that the Ice Slave was, in fact, his assistant Angela, but he made it clear that he was not disappointed in the least. He told her that things were going to change in her life. He was going to enslave her that day and he was going to keep her as a pet and sex slave. She would continue to work for him so that he could keep an eye on her all the time. In fact, he was also going to hire Brittle so that he could keep both of his slaves around 24×7.
As he was talking he had been doing two things. He had been walking around the apartment looking at things, and he had been removing his own clothing. Naked and erect he stood directly in front of the bench where the Ice Slave could not help but see him. He turned and spoke to his slave Brittle who was by then finished putting the things away.
“Go to the living room slave, fetch the footstool, place it on the floor right here in front of this bench” he commanded.
We had exchanged emails from time to time and respected each other’s
privacy and commitments. He enjoyed my writing and that was how the
contact had started. I had shared thoughts and ideas with him and he did
the same with me, both of us enjoying the thrill and excitement at
suggestion and counter-response. I am not sure if many of the thoughts
and ideas were mine or his, but there is no doubt he was able to wind me
up to an aroused state with his comments.
From time to time he would suggest that we meet up, but for various
reasons, mostly due to those commitments it didn’t happen, not then at
least.
I hadn’t heard from him for a month or so when quite suddenly I received
an email from him. It seemed a chatty, friendly, catch up sort of email.
He wrote about how depressing winter had been and then about his car
being repaired, before going on to talk about the start of a sunny spell
with the long-awaited advent of Spring. It was the sort of email a best
friend might write and then he went on to suggest again about meeting
up. He wrote that he had researched a place he wanted to go to not far
from my home and invited me out for a quiet walk and some lunch.
For once I had no commitments, it was such an innocuous email and
perhaps I was just in the right frame of mind, though later a little
nervous and I agreed to go.
In a way, somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought that It was like
being invited out on a date, a date with another man, something I had
never done before nor contemplated doing either.
I replied to him perhaps a little too quickly, nervously agreeing to his
kind invitation and the day of our date was set. I sent him yet another
email then, unaware of the subliminal messages I might have been giving,
but in my mind to finalize the exact place and time. I had suggested
somewhere public and mutually unknown, but he would have nothing of it
and insisted on picking me up at my house! I was quite nervous about
this prospect, but He was very persuasive and in the end I foolishly
agreed. I gave him my address in a crazy moment of submissive arousal.
That night I thought about the meeting, in my mind thinking over the
quiet walk he had referred to and it suddenly occurred to me that he
might be a seasoned rambler, the planned walk perhaps challenging. The
more I thought about it, the more I thought that I’d better check with
him if I needed to wear trainers or walking shoes.
Idiotically, I have no idea why I phrased it like that, I am such a
a silly fool sometimes, I innocently asked him if he wanted me to wear
anything specific.
His response was slow, but obviously well considered and very specific.
He asked me if I had any pale coloured short shorts. I had, I had worn
them sometimes on holidays abroad and I told him so, briefly describing
them from memory. Then he asked me if I had a white sleeveless tee
shirt. The forecast had said it would be warm and not knowing exactly
where the conversation was going I again said that I had.
That was when he sent the email that turned my head into a spin.
“I will pick you up at 10.30, you will wear your pretty pair of
knickers.”
He was specific about that word and I knew what he meant from our
previous conversations, as I had told him how I had a pair of pink satin
knickers with elasticated legs that really excited me when I wore them.
He went on to say.
“You will wear your matching camisole top, your white sleeveless tee
shirt and your short shorts. The only other thing you will wear is a
pair of open toed sandals on your feet.”
The email sent a wave of nervous, humiliation and yet submissive
excitement through me as I read it. My white sleeveless tee shirt has
fairly thin straps over the shoulders, following the trend of vest tops
and usually worn on sunny summer holidays. Hence it was loose and fairly
open around my shaved armpits. The camisole that matched my knickers was
of the same deep pink colour , again in a shiny satin material. The
straps were thin spaghetti straps and there was a lace edge around the
hem and the bust. Wearing it beneath the tee shirt would reveal it quite
obviously and that very thought was turning me into an embarrassing
quivering mess.
But, that wasn’t all however, I had describe the knickers to him in
intimate detail during our teasing exchanges all that time ago and he
knew that the elasticated legs gripping my thighs could be visible or
almost visible below the legs of those short shorts.
The thought of my appearance humiliated me intensely and I really didn’t
know if I could go through with it. He had never really appeared to be
so assertive in our email exchanges before, he had purely been teasing
me in his conversations. I know that I had admitted to him that I was
very submissive and hated confrontations, which was the truth, but he
had never really appeared to be a dominant man before. Surely he
wouldn’t humiliate me in public and this was just a tease too. He was
just teasing me for now and when it came to the time he would expect me
dress as normal when we met.
The days went by, the date drawing ever closer and my nervous
humiliation ever growing as I continually thought about it. Each day I
hoped and hoped he would send me an email telling me he was teasing me,
but no email came.
In the end, the suspense grew to such a level that the day before we
were due to meet, I eventually emailed him.
I carefully wrote the email saying how much I was looking forward to
seeing him tomorrow and how glad I was that the weather seemed to be set
hot. Then I carefully broached the subject about what he had told me to
wear for him.
His reply was immediate and assertive to the point of aggression.
“I told you what you are wearing Richie, it is non negotiable. I don’t
expect any simpering requests for me to change my mind. Both you and I
know that the very thought is exciting you beyond anything you have felt
before, so stop your pitiable excuses and accept it. I hope that your
legs are still smoothly shaved as you had told me before, if they are
not, then make sure that they are and as a punishment for questioning
me, you will now shave your arms smoothly also.
I will expect to see you exactly as I have directed you when I call to
pick you up tomorrow at 10.30.”
I was shaking as I read it and he was right, I was totally aroused by
the thought, to the point that I masturbated on and off all that
evening, though never allowing myself to climax in the fear that he
would admonish me if I did.
The next morning, after a night of broken sleep, I washed and shaved all
over my body, my legs and my arms too, before applying a smoothing
lubricating body lotion all over myself. My body felt soft and slippy,
sending weird sensations though me as I touched my skin. I was foolishly
early, what the hell was I doing, not only going on a date with another
man, but doing this to myself for him, yet I couldn’t stop myself
carrying on.
I was all of a quiver and found myself beginning to dress at only 9.30.
The knickers and camisole felt madly sexy as they always did when I wore
them in the privacy of my bedroom and my heart was throbbing wildly as I
struggled to quell my tingling penis.
I searched for and found the shorts I had told him I would wear and had
described to him for his agreement. Now I looked at them, my memory had
deluded me, they were indeed short, very short, made from a pink, peach
and blue floral material.
For a minute I thought I would reject them, but then I thought, he would
know what they looked like from my description. I stepped into them and
pulled them up my legs, they were tighter than I remembered, either my
bum was a bit bigger or they had shrunk. I wriggled them up over my
satin knickers and they caressed my bum tightly. I carried on wriggling
them up to my waist and I looked at myself in the mirror.
I felt an immediate burn of complete embarrassment going through me as I
saw myself. The knicker legs were indeed revealed about an inch below
the legs of my shorts, there was no way I could go out in them like
that, I looked like a gay pansy.
I wriggled my shorts down a little, pulling at the legs as I did so,
until the waistband came to rest at my hips and the legs just covered
my knickers. I looked in the mirror again, my shorts didn’t look right,
they weren’t hipsters, but at least they were just about hiding my
insane knickers.
With a pounding heart and a tingling penis, held down now by my tight
shorts, I picked up the white tee top and pulled it on over my head,
then looked in the mirror once more.
It was blatantly obvious and there was no way of hiding it this time,
the pink camisole was clearly visible. The straps were openly showing on
my shoulders, the overall pink color showing through the white of my
tee top and again all I could think of was, pansy.
By the time I put my sandals on I was an embarrassing mess, in the mirror
I looked half-naked, a vulnerable and simpering sissy, yet my crazy
penis was tingling madly. How could I possibly meet another man dressed
like this, let alone go out in public with him? It was then I had my
greatest feeling of remorse, I couldn’t go through with it, I just
couldn’t, yet a glance at the clock told me he would be knocking at the
door in about five minutes time!
What would I do? What could I do? My mind cleared a little for a second,
an idea formed, I would try and brazen it out, remain nonchalant, act it
out like an actor would play a part.
The time was ticking on quickly now and I suddenly realized I didn’t
have my wallet or my house keys. It took my mind off things whilst I
found them, only to realize I had nowhere to put them, no pocket to put
them in. I remembered my holiday bumbag then and ran upstairs to find
it. It was gone 10.30, hurriedly I found it and put my wallet and keys
in it then I clipped it around my waist. The doorbell rang as I did so,
making my heartbeat soar and with my heart in my throat and trembling
all over. I hesitantly went back down to the hallway where I stopped and
briefly steadied myself before finally, nervously, opening the front
door.
He was standing there, quite tall, mature, greying hair, wearing chinos
and an open neck shirt. I stupidly just said, “Hello,” my voice a little
too high and squeaky. He looked me up and down for a second then pointed
at my bumbag.
“What’s that Richie?”
It was the first time that I had heard his voice, it was well educated,
almost sophisticated, but his tone was extremely assertive. I blushed.
“It, it’s my bumbag.” I was blushing, nervous and taken aback, my voice
a mumble.
“I didn’t tell you to wear it, so loose it.” He didn’t make a move from
outside the door.
Nervously I undid the clip. “It, it’s got my wallet and my keys in it.”
I attempted to explain.
“You don’t need your wallet and you can give me your keys to look after
for you, now lose it.” He held out his hand for my keys which I
reluctantly gave to him before placing the bumbag on the hall stand.
“And pull your shorts up Richie, they look stupid half way down your
backside like that.”
His tone was dominant and dictatorial, as if he was talking to a child.
I blushed a beetroot red, my body quivering in embarrassment and he knew
it too. With trembling fingers in a horrible humiliating reluctance I
wriggled my shorts back up to my waist where they clung tightly to my
bottom and so revealed the elasticated legs of the awful, awful madly
sexy knickers that I was wearing. This time I didn’t have to look in a
mirror to know instantly how it made me look.
“That’s better Richie, you look pretty when you blush.” His smile was
more like a leer. “Come on then darling lets go.” And he held his hand
out to me.
I looked at it nervously, then stupidly unable to think straight I took
it. His fingers closed around mine, his grip powerfully enclosing my
hand, he had no intention of letting me pull back inside the door to
hide. He was taking me out in public looking like a sissy whether I
liked it or not. He gave me a strong tug and I was suddenly there beside
him, looking up at him, standing in the sun for all to see. He closed my
front door then with his free hand, my heart leaping as I heard the
latch drop locking it. His car was parked in the street outside my drive
and he pulled me along by the hand, down the drive to it. My face was on
fire the whole time and my head down looking at my feet , terrified at
being seen or meeting a neighbour. He unlocked the car doors with his
remote and then opened the passenger door for me. The inside beckoned,
privacy, a place to hide. I quickly bent to get in, the sudden smack on
my bum making me jump and almost leap inside, sitting with a stinging
feeling in my posterior.
His laugh was an almost gleeful chortle and suddenly he was sitting
beside me.
“Do your seatbelt up Richie, we don’t want to get stopped by the police
now do we?” His smirk reflected his teasing comment, he fully knew what
his every carefully chosen word was doing to me.
I don’t remember much of the drive, I couldn’t concentrate, my insides
were like jelly and I’ve never felt so scared or submissive in all my
life. Yet my penis was tingling madly in my satin knickers and tight
shorts. I had no idea where the remote woodland car park was, I had
never been there before and how he knew about it was a mystery. He
pulled to a halt under a canopy of trees and stopped the engine, then he
reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a clear plastic bag.
He removed from it a bottle of deep pink nail varnish and a similar
bottle of nail gloss.
“Take off your sandals Richie, then you are going to paint your toe
nails and your finger nails. Take your time Richie, don’t smudge them or
I’ll make you do them again. Two coats of colour then one of gloss on
top.”
I looked t him aghast. “I, I, can’t,” I began.
He interrupted me. “You will do as I tell youRichie, or I’ll drive away
and leave you here, do you understand?”
He was matter of fact, holding all the cards and totally authoritative.
It seemed I had no alternative, I wasn’t sure where we were, I was
dressed like that and he had my house keys. The prospect of walking home
was out of the question. My whole body was trembling now, I felt
trapped, yet the burning humiliation he was building inside me was
fuelling an insane tingling arousal deep within me too. How could I
possibly be so nervous and humiliated yet so aroused too, it was all too
confusing. He spent some time rummaging around in the boot of his car
whilst I went through the process of trying to paint my nails to his
satisfaction with trembling fingers. It seemed to take forever and his
final inspection only added to my humiliation.
“Good, that’s how I expect to see them every time you go out with me, do
you understand?” I nervously nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“Now put your sandals back on.” Quivering I did as I was told and he
watched me intently as I did so. When I’d finished he nodded then took a
slim tube from his pocket.
“This is lip gloss, now look in the visor mirror and paint your lips.”
He spoke as he handed me the tube and again, knowing I was beaten, I had
no alternative I did as I was told with a feeling of sheer embarrassment
as I looked in the mirror, painting the deep pink sticky gloss on my
lips as he watched me, fully aware of the shame and humiliation I was
feeling.
“Good, that’s more like it, now we can have our walk.” He gesticulated
for me to get out of the car.
I looked around nervously, there was no site or sound of anybody and
reluctantly I got out inevitably tugging down on the hem of my shorts as
I did so.
He stood there with his arms folded looking at me then spoke again.
“Hmm, OK, I can see that you aren’t used to wearing your shorts like
that are you? So this time, I will give you a choice. I have a skirt in
the boot of my car. Do you want to continue in those shorts or put on
the skirt?”
I looked at him nervously, he was right I felt totally uncomfortable in
my shorts, my knickers showing beneath them as they were, I know I
looked like a big pansy wearing them, but a skirt! I wasn’t sure,
perhaps it would be less gay and would hide my knickers, but a skirt!
“Quick about it Richie, we haven’t all day, now choose.” He was quite
aggressive now.
“C can I try the skirt?” My voice was small, nervous even.
“No Richie, make a choice and that’s what you will wear, now quick about
it, or shall I just drive off and leave you here?”
I was quivering, that mixture of nerves, humiliation and crazy arousal
“I’ll wear the skirt,” I mumbled.
“Good boy, now take your shorts off and give them to me.” He was
sounding more and more like a schoolmaster.
I wriggled my shorts down and reluctantly handed them to him, standing
there in the open in those pink satin knickers, my face burning in total
humiliation. He took them from me and went to the boot of the car,
opening it he put them inside and took out some grey material before
closing it again. I couldn’t detect anything about the skirt except the
colour until he handed it to me.
“There, now put it on.”
It was then I realised it was a schoolgirl skirt, grey, flared and
pleated and horribly short. The waist button was undone and the zip
down, I nervously stepped into it and pulled it up my legs, over my bum
to fasten it at my waist. If anything it was worse than my shorts. The
length barely covered my knicker legs but because of the flared
lightness of the material, I could hardly feel that I was wearing it and
my every movement made it flick and dance showing glimpses of what I
wore beneath it. It made me feel naked and vulnerable, there was no way
I could go on a country walk with him wearing it.
“Umm, c Can I have my shorts back,” I began.
“No,” he almost shouted, “you chose Richie, now, one more argument from
you and I promise I will leave you here, do you understand me?”
“Yss,” I mumbled nodding.
“And while we are at it, from now on you will call me sir, got that?”
I nodded a half nod, “Yss…..sr,” I said quietly.
“Good.” He opened the back door of the car and took out a jotter and a
pencil and turning gave them to me. “We will be looking for birds today,
I want you to make a list of all the birds we see, then your homework
will be to write about them.”
I took the jotter and pencil from him, they were the sort of things a
young schoolchild would use, the jotter lined in wide lines, the pencil
a thick soft 4b pencil, a type that would be used when learning to
write. I felt confused and began to feel more and more that he was
treating me as a schoolchild or simple minded person, rather than a male
friend.
In seconds he was off walking, heading along a path.
“Come along, keep up.”
I almost ran after him, he was unnerving me but I didn’t want to be left
there in the carpark alone.
He was walking quickly his long legs striding, I am only short and I
found myself trotting along behind him. He suddenly stopped and pointed
into the thicket.
“Look,” he said, “that is a Robin, you can see he has a lovely red
breast, now write down Robin, that’s R O B I N.”
I thought he was joking for a minute but one look at his face made me
realise he was being perfectly serious and it suddenly dawned on me that
he wanted me to play along with his game. So I obediently did as he told
me. I took the soft pencil, incidentally it was quite difficult to write
with and I ended up having to write the word Robin in large capital
letters for it to be legible. That was how we carried on, stopping
randomly and him pointing out a common bird and demeaning me by spelling
its name out to me so that I could then struggle to write it down.
Luckily we didn’t meet anyone, that is until we came to a lake. He was
busy pointing out a duck and spelling out D U C K, when a man appeared
out of nowhere followed by a large black dog. I cringed trying to hide
behind Graham, vainly hoping the man wouldn’t notice me! Haha, fat
chance. He came right up to us, all eyes looking at me, making me feel
so embarrassed, so humiliated. I wished a hole in the ground would open
and swallow me up right then. Not only that, I am afraid of dogs, but
dogs always seem to sense my fear, this one headed straight for me and
even though I nervously tried to push him away, he did what all dogs do.
Put their noses into your crutch. Of course in this case, he went
straight under my skirt, his nose lifting it revealing my knickers, his
wet nose right up between my legs. The man was smiling widely and
entered into a deep conversation with Graham as I carried on struggling
to push the dog away and escape from it, but only succeeding in making
it growl.
“I think she’s enjoyin playing with the dog,” I heard the man say.
Graham was nodding and smiling. “Go and play with the doggie a bit love
while I talk to this gentleman.”
I couldn’t believe what he was saying, here I was dying of humiliation,
obviously scared of the dog and not wanting its attention and he was
telling me to play with it.
“Rub his tummy darlin, he likes it when you do that, don’t worry about
him growling, it’s just he doesn’t want you to stop that’s all, likes
havin his own way does Rocky.” The man smiled widely, almost a leer in
his eyes as he spoke, then he turned back to continue his conversation
with Graham.
Meanwhile the dog was trying to jump up at me and he was a big dog, his
front feet would be on my chest. I struggled to push him down, trying to
turn away from him, then I tried the rubbing his tummy thing, that his
master had said. Curiously the dog seemed to calm down and stood there,
letting me rub his tummy. I looked across at the two of them in deep
conversation, just wishing the man would go so that we could finish this
humiliating walk and get back to the car. I don’t know exactly what
happened, or how it happened, I was so busy watching them when my hand
seemed to touch something hot and wet. I glanced down curiously only to
see to my disgust that the dog had developed a huge erection and that I
had just been rubbing it. I pulled my hand away hurriedly, glancing up
as I did so, only to see that both men were watching me intently.
“I agree I think she’d love to play with the dog, perhaps we can meet up
again so she can have some fun?” Graham’s voice carried across to me.
The man was smiling evilly, well it looked evilly, then he spoke
something quietly to Graham before calling the dog to him and walking
off leaving us alone.
“What was that about?” I said in a whisper.
Graham paused and looked at me, he looked cross.
“Little sissies should be seen and not heard, learn your lesson Richie,
you do not question me and you do not speak unless it is to answer
something I have asked you, do you understand, or shall I put you over
my knee here and now?”
His words shocked me, took me aback, but I could feel the old submissive
yearning growing inside me and I couldn’t control it.
“Ys Sr, I’m sorry Sr,” I mumbled quietly.
“Good, now, where was I? Ah yes, these duckies are Mallards.” And he
spelled the name out again, making me scrawl it out in my jotter.
“For your special homework this week, I want you to find out all about
the sex life of the Mallard and write an essay about it. Do you
understand?”
I nodded. “Ys Sr,” in my little voice. So he was continuing to treat me
as a schoolchild, it was so weird, but if it made him happy I decided
that I’d play along with him.
We did meet a couple more people on our walk, both were men and both
looked at me curiously, going away with smirks on their faces. I burned
in humiliation each time and got to the point that my senses were hugely
heightened as I walked behind him, listening and looking at every little
sound. I had never thought that a woodland walk would be so stressful.
We finally got back to the car, it was almost 1.00 pm. He patted my bum,
making me jump once again as I bent to get in and when I sat in the seat
I nervously tugged the hem of my skirt down to try and cover my
knickers.
He chuckled,
“Did you enjoy your walk Richie?”
I nodded. “Ys Sr,” I said quietly.
“Good and from now on I’m going to call you by your chosen name, Leanne.
Well Leanne, I’m hungry after all this fresh air, I promised you lunch
and we are going to a nice little pub which isn’t far from here.” And he
started the car.
My insides jumped at his words, the car starting enforcing the fear, he
couldn’t, surely he wouldn’t take me to a pub, not dressed like this, oh
my god I thought I was going to die.
We pulled into the pub carpark in about ten minutes, there were two or
three cars in there. He stopped by a steps which led up to the beer
garden and got out of the car. I had shrunk down in my seat and when he
opened the door,maws about to refuse to get out. He looked at me then
bent down speaking softly but assertively at me, he was calm but I could
sense the ferocity in his voice.
“Stop behaving like a baby Leanne, you are getting out of the car
whether you like it or not, even if I have to drag you out and if I have
to do that. Then I will put you over my knee right here and spank you
and then I’ll leave you here to find your own way home. Don’t think that
I am teasing, now do you understand?”
I looked at him, trying to persuade him, but I could see the steely look
in his eyes, the set of his chin and I knew he had me over a barrel, I
had to go along with him. I would have to brazen it out and ignore the
obvious humiliating looks I would get. Reluctantly I undid my seatbelt,
swung my legs out and got out of the car. He closed the door locking it
behind me, then taking my hand led me up the steps to the beer garden.
Luckily there was only one person there, he sat at a bench near the
building, he was an old man drinking a pint and smoking. Graham led me
to a table towards the far end of the garden and the man watched us as
we went.
“Be a good girl and sit here while I order our lunch.” He was smiling,
in his element even, knowing what he was doing to me. My cheeks were
bright red anyway, as they had been all morning and I sat there
nervously, trying my best to be inconspicuous shrunk down in my seat.
He seemed to take forever to come back and I noticed that half his pint
was drunk by the time he returned to me. On his tray beside it was a
small child’s box carton of drink. It had funny animals printed on the
sides and a straw sticking out of the top.
“There you are love, now don’t spill it down your front.” He passed the
child’s drink to me.
I had an overload of humiliation already, I didn’t think I could cope
with anymore, but I struggled on unable to look around me. Then when I
thought that it couldn’t get any worse, I noticed a lady heading up the
path towards us carrying a tray. She placed it down on the table between
us, I couldn’t even look at her, I had no idea what she looked like, I
was focussed on the floor.
“One special and one child’s meal, love, does the little one want
ketchup?”
“Oh yes please, she loves ketchup on her chips, don’t you Leanne?” He
was doing it just to shame me more.
I nodded.
“Tell the nice lady then Leanne, where are your manners.”
I swallowed, the humiliation eating into my very soul. “Yes please,” I
mumbled my voice squeaky with emotion.
“Ahh, there, of course, sweety.” She was back in seconds with a bottle of
ketchup and then disappeared to leave us to it. I looked down at my
plate, there were one sausage, some baked beans, and a portion of alphabet
shaped potato fries, he was tucking into a meat pie, mashed potato, and
peas. My stomach gurgled as I looked at his food.
“Come along Leanne, be a good girl and eat up,” he spoke with his mouth
full.
So we are still playing the schoolgirl game, I thought to myself, so
let’s play along and get this day over with. I tucked into my child’s
meal and pretended that I liked it.
It was gone two o’clock when we left the pub, he had had another pint of
beer and I had been given some sort of fruit drink that he poured out of
a little flask he produced from his pocket and “for being good”, a lolly
pop to suck, which he watched me doing intently, his eyes glistening as
he did so.
Now at last we were going back home and this time he drove up onto the
drive. I felt a bit heady and got out of the car quickly heading for the
front door, he took his time, making a thing of looking for the keys.
“Have you got a spare set of keys Leanne?” he said as he looked for them
in his pocket.
“Yes inside, I have.” Then I thought I’d better keep the sir bit up.
“Sir. But I haven’t a spare set outside.”
“Good.” He produced the keys and dangled them in front of me. “I’ll keep
these then, it’ll make it so much easier won’t it?”
He said it challenging me, knowing his words were making me quiver in
nervous apprehension. As he came over beside me at the door and before I
knew it he was suddenly kissing me. Kissing me there on my doorstep,
with me dressed like that, kissing another man, in public on my own
doorstep.
“Relax darling,” He could see I wasn’t happy, I was tense, confused and
very nervous. “Now open those pretty pink lips and kiss me properly,” He
paused then continued softly “That is if you want me to let you in!”
The threat was still there, he was telling me that I still had to do
what he said, that he was still in control and I still had no
alternative.
This was such a big leap from the fantasies, my stories, and the closet
crossdressing, I was trembling nervously, but taking a breath, telling
myself it was nearly over, I’d soon be inside, I finally did what he
said.
His lips mashed over mine then, his kiss powerful, all possessing, his
tongue opening my lips and entering my mouth and In a crazy
the inexplainable way he suddenly had me weak and almost swooning in his
arms.
I could hardly stand when he broke the kiss and then the front door was
open and we were standing in my hallway kissing again, I’d lost track of
time and lost control of myself, suddenly living in my own fantasy dream
world.
How he got me up to my bedroom I’m not really sure, but his hands were
all over my body as we kissed again. I was whimpering, trembling,
afraid yet weirdly aroused too as he quickly stripped me naked and I
foolishly let him in meek compliance. It was as if I was drunk or
drugged or something and before I knew it I was naked lying on my back
on the bed. He was still wearing his boxer shorts and was on top of me
crushing me as he kissed me at all my erogenous zones, my body
quivering and twitching beneath him. He worked me up into an enormous
state of arousal, I wasn’t sure which bit of me was more aroused, then
suddenly he stopped , sitting astride me.
“You know Leanne, your stories really excited me, I’ve thought of them
all the time, dreamed about them and now I want to live them too.”
He climbed off the bed, leaving the room for a minute and I just lay
there in a foolish stupor, almost as if I was drunk, unable to move,
think straight or understand what he had just said. He returned
momentarily with a large bag which he dropped on the floor, rummaging in
it. He turned to me then, his eyes gleaming madly, in his hands were a
pair of black leather buckled handcuffs. I gasped, shocked, He could see
the fear flit across my face and he was on me, over me in an instant,
before I could even move a muscle. I fought him, that is I tried to
fight him, but he had all the advantages and my left wrist was cuffed in
seconds, rolling me over onto my tummy as I tried to kick out with my
legs, but he just sat on my bum as he pulled my right wrist behind me,
cuffing it to the other all too easily. He stroked my bum then as I
squeaked into the pillow.
“There baby, that wasn’t so bad was it?” His voice was full of
excitement
He climbed off me, to one side on the bed and rolled me back onto my
back, my hands under me. His kisses this time were rougher, little bites
to my neck, my chest and nipples which he sucked hard and I was
incapable of stopping him, I was at his mercy. Between my gasps and
moans I tried begging him, pleading for him to release me, to stop it.
At first that only seemed to excite him more, then as if he had just
thought of something, he leaned off the bed to the bag again. The ball
gag he produced, sent me into waves of fearful horror and my pleadings
multiplied immensely, but he was smiling, his excitement increasing by
the minute.
“It won’t hurt baby, you know your going to love it, now open those
sweet little pink,lips for me again.”
I wriggled and twisted, my lips clamped tightly together, but he only
seemed to relish the wrestling match, enjoying himself, wearing me down
until I was completely exhausted, then squeezing my cheeks my lips
popped apart for him and suddenly the ball gag was in my mouth, between
my teeth, holding down my tongue. He was almost humming to himself as he
buckled the strap behind my head, pulling it tight, filling my mouth.
He looked down at me then in delight. “There I told you it wouldn’t hurt
baby, it makes you look so sexy and now I can kiss you again can’t I?”
I gurgled unable to speak, but he was over me his lips kissing mine
around the ball gag, his tongue licking me and I could feel his hardness
against my tummy through his boxer shorts.
It seemed to be going on forever, time was standing still. He was taking
his time enjoying each second, teasing my body, arousing me, feeling me,
masturbating me to a near climax, then leaving me as I moaned and
squirmed for him. He had me so that my penis was fully erect and
throbbing, precum beginning to dribble, but his hand snaked into his bag
once again. The spray from the spray can take me by surprise, it stung,
I squeaked and tried to curl up to avoid it, but he kept spraying until
the ice-cold started to have its effect. He just sat there then,
watching as I quivered and whimpered, my penis and scrotum, my little
balls, shrinking by the second in their icy shroud. My bits were numb
now, numb with the cold, shrunken, and numb. It was then I noticed his
gleeful expression and glancing down saw in his hands the chastity
device. I tried to scream to beg to plead him not to, but He all too
easily pulled my legs apart and was swiftly fitting the device around my
shrunken genitals and I couldn’t seem to do anything about it.
“You’re going to love this baby, we are going to have so much fun with
this.”
You could see the arousal in his eyes, he was so excited as He clipped
the little padlock shut imprisoning me before carefully hanging the key
on its chain around his neck for me to see.
I had written about this so many times and now it was happening to me
and now I couldn’t seem to quell my own quivering stupid nervous
arousal, as he did it.
He played with me and teased me again then, the numbness going from my
genitals the awareness of restricted erection painful yet highly erotic.
Soon He had me squirming and moaning again, playing me like an
instrument. But his bag of tricks still had its secrets to give up and
as he tired from his teasing he went once again to that evil bag. The
black dildo he produced and grinning, showed me, had a tube an a pump
attached and even in my wrecked emotional state, I realised that it was
an inflatable one. Once again I begged him with my gurgles and groans,
not to do it, to stop, stop, please no more, no more, I can’t take any
more. The ease which he rolled me onto my tummy was almost too shocking,
but his fingers, touching, feeling, lubricating both scared and excited
me. The first touch of the dildo made me jerk in my bonds, he giggled
and did it again and again until it began to slip into me. The pain was
as I expected, I had used a dildo on myself before, but he was careful,
getting me used to it until he fully slid it into me and I moaned at the
erotic invasion. Somehow I was aware that he was naked now, his cock
stiff and bobbing, he kissed the cheek of my bum, his kiss turning into
a love bite and I whimpered until I heard the pump and felt the fullness
inside of me. He went on like that for ages and ages, kissing me, giving
me love bites, sucking my nipples and each time he would give another
little pump, combining the pain of the fullness and pressure with the
arousal of his teasing.
“Baby, I can’t wait any longer, I’m going to fuck you now, turn you into
a proper little cock slut.” His voice was charged, his cock dribbling.
I whimpered, I’d never had sex with a man before, fantasy was one thing,
this toy play was one thing but for him to actually fuck me was another
thing altogether. I heard the hiss of air from the pump, the pressure
inside me diminishing and I was grateful for that, but I was terrified
of the prospect of what he was about to do. The dildo slipped out from
me easily, too easily, he really had prepared me. Then I felt him behind
me, we were on our sides, I could feel his heat, his stiffness. He
slipped between my cheeks easily finding my still gaping rosebud and
then with a brief sensation of pain he was inside me, in and in and in,
until my bottom met his hips. His hands slid around me then and gripped
my hips and He began fucking me. He started slowly at first, grunting as
he thrust, listening to my whimpers which he gradually converted to
moans as I succumbed to the sensations and eroticism.Then his pace
slowly increased, he was hot, getting closer and closer to cumming.
“You fucking little slut, you’re mine now, I own you, I’m going to breed
you, fill you.”
He was panting, thrusting harder and harder and I could hear a moaning
sound, a soft feminine moaning, then I realised it was me.
“I’m going to make you into a prostitute you little slut, earn me some
money, fuck I’m going to have fun with you.”
His cock was suddenly rock hard and he almost bellowed as I felt him cum
inside me, the sensation driving my own flaccid climax over the top too
as I felt a wetness dribbling from me. I could feel everything, every
sensation, every movement as if I was super sensitive. I felt him
subside, his breathing ease, his cock shrink and slip from me. He moved
a second wriggled about a little and to my shock I felt the invading
dildo once again, I whimpered, wriggling to try to avoid it, but in my
exhaustion it was futile, he persisted and with a few pumps of the pump
he embed it within me. He seemed to relax then and lay down quietly
behind me.
We must have lain there like that for an hour or so, I eventually slept
the sleep of complete mental and physical exhaustion, the discomfort of
the bondage and the awareness of the dildo gradually fading as I relaxed
and closed my eyes. I was awoken by his movement, he had got out of bed
and I heard him opening the bathroom door, but He was back in front of
me in seconds.
“You’ve got a wet room.” He was smiling. “Come on slut, wake up your
sleepy head, it’s shower time!”
He pulled me blinking, out of bed to my feet, tottering in my bondage as
he guided me out and into the bathroom, pulling me behind the screen.
“Now kneel down slut.” His hands were pushing down on my shoulders.
I had little alternative, was he going to shower me there on my knees,
perhaps he needed to have a feeling of power over me even there in the
shower. Awkwardly I slipped onto my knees and looked up at him, my eyes
pleading for him to release me. He was smiling evilly, his face full of
excitement again and I noticed his cock was half erect. He reached
behind my head and I felt him unbuckling the strap for the ball
gag,thank god, I thought, thank god he’s going to finish all this. He
undid the gag and pulled it from my aching jaws and I groaned as I moved
them again.
“You liked wearing that didn’t you baby, it made you look so sexy, don’t
worry, I promise you can wear it again, but now your going to love this
too.”
He stood back a little and gripped his cock, pointing it at me and I
suddenly realised what he meant by shower. My eyes opened wide in horror
and my mouth opened as I began to plead with him not to, then it hit me.
The hot jet hit my face, I closed my eyes and my mouth instantly and I
could hear him giggling, slowly he peed over my chest, then down over my
chastity enclosed penis, laughing as he soaked me with his urine,
debasing me completely until I was sitting there on my haunches the
dildo still embedded in me, dripping, sobbing.
Gradually his stream stopped, but then I felt his hot head against me,
touching my lips.
“Time for suckies baby.”
His voice was buzzing in his excitement, his cock head rubbing back and
fore across my lips.
“Open wide baby.”
He pinched my nose between his finger and thumb making me gasp and his
mushroom head was between my lips pushing into my mouth. I gagged and
half chocked, but he took his time, until he had me sucking more by
reflex and reaction than want. He began pushing his cock deeper and
deeper into my mouth, his hands behind my head preventing escape. Soon
he was panting, telling me to suck him, telling me to suck, calling me
all sorts of names and then.
“Ohhhhh you little slut, swallow it, swallow it you cunt.”
He embedded his cock right into my throat, his ejaculations straight
down into my stomach, I couldn’t breath, snorting for breath through my
nose as he filled me there.
When he’d finished I just sat there feeling used and abused, he undid
the cuffs then, helped me to stand and showered with me. This time it
was under hot soapy water, the chastity and dildo remaining in place as
he soaped me, rubbing his naked body against me and finally kissing me,
there under the hot water jets.
It was the nicest he’d been all day, it confused me, almost unnerved me
as much as all the humiliation he’d subjected me to, but in a way, in my
passivity he was using me now too. Turning me around, he released the
dildo and pulled it from me, leaving it on the floor of the shower.
“You’ll need that again baby, so keep it nice and clean.”
Suddenly he changed, he became almost business like, drying himself
quickly with a towel as he headed back into my bedroom and by the time
I’d found another towel and was dry enough, he was dressed.
“I have to go now Leanne, I’ll see you same time next week, I’ll drop
your pencil and jotter and some other things on your table downstairs.
Remember your homework, I’m looking forward to reading your essay and I
want daily emails from you and you know what I expect next week girl.”
I was totally taken aback by his words, homework.. next week…know what
he expects….and more importantly….He was already heading towards the
top of the stairs when I stopped him.
“Um, Graham, before you go, you’ve forgotten to take this thing off.”
He stopped, I could see his body stiffen and then he turned, a cloud
over his face.
“Firstly I gave you no permission to call me that, it is Sir to you,
secondly I told you that you were only allowed to speak when I told you
to and thirdly how dare you suggest I’d forgotten something.” He had
returned back along the landing to me as he spoke, then he grabbed my
wrist. “I warned you before that I’d spank you if you were naughty,” he
hissed.
I was shocked, taken aback, he pulled me back into the bedroom before I
could stop him and in a ludicrously quick time he was sitting on the bed
with me across his knees. To begin with it was the shame and humiliation
of being spanked, spanked by another man, but by the tenth stroke it was
the sheer stinging pain that hurt me. He gave me a dozen smacks and when
the tears sprang from my eyes he pushed me to the floor.
“The chastity is to remind you that your mine and to keep you thinking
about me.” He showed me the key dangling round his neck. “Now be a good
girl and do as I say next time. Bye Leanne.”
He left then, leaving me there then, my bum stinging and my poor penis
already tingling in its prison.
She looked at the clock, 8:47, thirteen more minutes until he said to start.
It has been a busy time for him. The holidays were always a busy time at his work, a spate of bad weather, and then an unexpected illness in the family had kept him preoccupied. Even when he did have a free evening, he was tired and irritable, falling asleep in front of the television rather than doing anything with her.
She knew better than to nag him, but as the days grew into a week and then two weeks she kept sending him that quiet longing looks. She told herself it was not her, that he still cared, he was just tired. He even acknowledged that he had been neglecting her, making apologetic comments about wanting to, but just not having the energy, muttering something about thinking of something to keep her occupied. She tried to be patient, engaging in discrete solo play when he was not home to keep the weeds at bay. It wasn’t the same but kept the wolves from the door. Still it was no substitute for having him use her. She desperately missed feeling him inside her, taking his pleasure from her. He was very aware of her habits and did not usually object. Privately she held the opinion that he liked her frequent masturbation because it took some pressure off him.
Then this morning he had surprised her. It had been the first day of her Christmas holiday. He had ordered her into the shower with him and pushed her down onto her knees, pressing his cock into her mouth without any words. He had gripped her hair and used her mouth rough, enjoying the sounds of her gagging and gasping for air. Then he had picked her up and bent her over, taking her from behind as the water ran down her back and into her eyes and nose. She had gritted her teeth and tightened her cunt around him as tightly as she could. He had come quickly and then she had spun around on and taken him back into her mouth, soothing him, bringing him down from his orgasm. She was trembling with her own need but silently told herself that she could finish what he started once he was out the door.
After a while, he stroked her face and looked down at her smugly, “Listen closely, today after I leave for work at precisely 9:00 am you will get out your vibrator and masturbate to orgasm. You will look at the clock and note exactly how many minutes it took you to come. Write that down. You will do this again at each hour for the whole day. If you are unable to come within the hour, you will stay in bed, with the vibrator on your clit until you catch up or I get home.”
She looked up at him blinking. She knew that it would be difficult to do this. She was not readily multi-orgasmic, especially with only clitoral stimulation. Her body had a stubborn streak and would just not come after a while. He was well aware of this.
His next words sent a rush of fear and submissive delight through her, “For every orgasm, you miss that will be a week of no orgasms for you.”
Her breath caught, “None?”
His hand tightened in her hair, lifting her face up, leering down at her. “None, in fact we will start with a week of waiting for that little question, and will add to that depending upon your success or failure.”
She swallowed hard, afraid to say anything more. “Yes Sir.”
She looked at the clock, 8:55. She got out the big hand-held vibrator that plugged into the wall. She knew which one he meant. It was the big one that could be heard just about anywhere in the house when she used it. He liked it because he could tell when she was using it. All others were off limits, reserved for his use only. Carefully taking off her pajama bottoms she slipped under the covers watching the big red numbers on the alarm clock.
At 9:00 she pushed the button and put the vibrating head against her flesh. Closing her eyes she let her mind drift back to the shower, the sensation of his cock so deep in her throat, choking her, the hard porcelain hurting her knees, the way his hand pulled at her hair as he fucked her face. Silently she writhed as the sensations built quickly, when she counted down from ten, remembering his voice in her ear as he so often had done before. Her climax was sharp and short, making her clit pulse against the vibrator.
She looked at the clock, 9:07. That had been quick, but his use in the shower and instructions had left her on edge. He had never spoken of restricting her orgasms before but it had always been a fantasy of hers. In fact he had never so controlled her masturbation before, usually leaving it up to her. The memory of his words, the look on his face as he had said the words had her hot as hell. She stretched and climbed from the bed and wrote down, 9:00… seven minutes.
At 9:45 she got out one of her favorite ‘dirty’ books and opened it up to a favorite scene. He had not said that she couldn’t use a little help getting her head in a good space. At 9:55 the phone rang, his voice was sharp, “Where are you?”
“In bed.”
“Already?”
“Um… I was just reading, watching the clock, Sir.”
“How many minutes did it take at 9:00.”
“Seven minutes.”
“Hot little cunt today, aren’t you?”
She could not help but grin at his harsh words. He knew how much it turned her on to be verbally humiliated. Her voice dropped an octave, “Yes Sir.”
At precisely 10:00 she switched on the vibrator and started again. His voice over the phone was gloating, “How does that feel?”
Her voice gurgled a little, “Good, Sir.”
His tone was slightly mocking, “My hot little cunt, all the time riding her fucking vibrator. Enjoy it today because you will be missing it later.” And then he hung up without saying good bye.
It did not take much longer, his words echoing in her head, this time she counted down out loud, and right before exploding she groaned out, “Yes.” Opening her eyes she looked at the clock, 10:13. Her cunt ached and tingled and she was happy to pull the vibrator away. She knew it was only going to get harder. As she wrote down thirteen minutes, it never even occurred to her to lie to him.
It seemed like 11:00 came much too quickly. Her pussy was still burning and tired. She stared at the clock and made a pained face as she started. Holding the vibrator she reread the sexy part of her book, putting herself in the extreme scene that had always made her get hot. When she got close she propped up the book and pressed her hand tight against her chest, crushing her breast, tensing her whole body into a hard vibrating arc, fiercely counting down, but when she got to one, she hovered there, grating out the last number over and over, “One! One! One!” The book slid to one side as she groaned out the word, her tone agonized and pleading. Finally, she pushed past the block and came hard, her orgasm shaking her whole body, making her collapse and convulse. She was breathing hard and drenched in sweat when she looked at the clock. Her heart sank, 11:33. Only twenty-seven minutes until she had to start again. She was tempted to fall asleep but she knew that she would probably oversleep and miss noon.
His instructions had been clear. There was no way to skip one and rest. His words had been clear, ‘if you can’t come during that hour, you will remain in bed with the vibrator on your clit’. She knew that starting at noon; she was not going to be anywhere but in the bedroom torturing herself according to his wishes.
She forced herself to get up and walk into the kitchen and got a pitcher of water with a lot of ice in it and a glass with a straw. She made sure to pee and then grabbed the rest of her favorite sexy books and some lube to help with chafing; she stood in her bedroom trying to think what else she was going to need. On impulse, she took two aspirin and filled a wine glass up with her favorite Merlot. She made sure that her phone was within reach. She was pretty sure he would be calling again sometime soon to check up on her.
At 11:55 she stripped down completely nude and on impulse took an ice cube out of the pitcher and chilled her fingers a little and then gently slid her icy fingers over her swollen and aching clitoris. The cold was soothing.
At noon, she sighed and put the vibrator between her legs. She flinched, Jesus, it was more painful than pleasurable. Clenching her teeth and sliding down on the bed she lay there with her eyes clenched closed, focusing on the sensation, visualizing his hand on the vibrator. It was his command that had put her here. Even with him busy and at work, he was there with her. And she was sure she was on his mind too. She knew he had to be looking at his watch, that tight predatory grin on his face as he thought about her here, contending with his commands.
Once the pain faded to a manageable level she clenched her thighs together holding the vibrator in place and began to read, deciding on not worrying about it so much. “Just relax and ride the wave.” Her voice trembled in time with the sensations.
At 12:15 her phone rang. His voice was teasing. “What are you doing?”
She had to swallow before she could talk, “Masturbating.”
He chuckled, “Having fun?”
Her voice quivered a little, but she struggled to sound light, “Oh yes Sir, lots and lots of fun.”
His voice darkened, “Have you missed any yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“How long did the last one take?”
“Thirty-three minutes.”
The teasing tone was back, “Not so hot now?”
A little wave of silliness rose up in her, “I don’t know. I think it is starting to smoke down there a little, much more friction and I might just burst into flame.” A small pang of fear shot through her. Sometimes he did not find her little sarcastic statements all that funny. More often than not she ended up regretting the impulsive little jokes. To her relief, he snorted with laughter.
Her voice was a little plaintive, “Sweetheart, Sir, when do you think you are going to be home tonight?”
There was a hint of sadism in his voice, “I don’t know. I have a lot of things to get done here, and there are some guys talking about grabbing some drinks after work. Maybe I will join them.”
She forced the tiny whimper of protest from her voice, “Sir, I did not have time to plan anything for dinner.” Cooking dinner was the one the few domestic things he insisted on. He did not much care if the house was messy or not but he had become very accustomed to having a hot meal waiting for him when he got home.
“Then maybe I will get something before I come home.”
This time she could not help but ask, “But do I have to keep doing this?”
His voice was sharp and hard, a crack of a whip, “Make that two weeks. Question me again and it will be four.” She swallowed down her next question. Oh god, he was going to figure this exponentially. She had not gone more than a couple of days without some kind of sexual satisfaction, now she had at least two weeks and it went without question that there was going to be more. The vibrator was buzzing merrily against her cunt but things were not moving along at all, in fact things were starting to go a little numb.
Her voice was defeated, “Yes, Sir.”
“Get busy, girl.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Again he hung up without saying goodbye. She looked at the phone for a second. He had never had much patience for little social niceties. He never had much patience period. It was his impatience and stringent ways that had attracted her to him in the first place. It did not take long before his impatience and her craving for his control had pushed the power imbalance in his direction. And each step of the way she began to thrive more and more on his dominance.
She thought back to the first time he had physically punished her, spanking her and then beating her with his belt. She did not even exactly remember why he had punished her but the feeling of surrender; loss of control, had been amazing. It seemed like after that she had always looked at him with trepidation and awe. He had always been important but now his wishes were central to her existence.
The thought of that first beating seemed to wake up her numb and battered nerve endings, making her cunt clench and the feelings of heat and tingling running up her legs. She started to count but to her surprise, the orgasm shot through her before she could reach one, her body almost spastic and uncontrollable. A low sob accompanied her orgasm. Turning she looked at the clock, 12:48. Blinking back tears she dropped the vibrator to one side and reached for a drink of water. After a long cool drink, she lowered the glass with its coating of cool condensation and pressed it to her throbbing cunt.
It felt jarringly cold but so good. She let out a long quivering groan. Her clit was doing this odd, throbbing thing. If felt like it was twitching spasmodically against the cold wet glass.
There was a kind of resignation in her mood and movements when 1:00 came upon the clock. She had an odd boring thought that it was too bad he did not allow a television in the bedroom. She sort of wanted something to do that took less effort than holding a book or focusing on words on a page. The idea of coming or not coming was too hard to think about. Closing her eyes she let her thoughts drift, trying to picture where he was, what he was doing. Thinking about Christmas next week, wondering what he had planned for them to do. She made a rueful face; one thing was sure, there would be no orgasms. Once he said something, he had never once changed his decision. And right now that was beginning to sound not so onerous.
She could tell she was getting sleepy; her body was getting heavy and her thoughts slower. Knowing that he would not accept sleeping as an excuse to stop, she reached down and found her underwear and awkwardly pulled them on. They were form-fitting spandex and helped hold the vibrator trapped against her cunt. The angle was a little wrong but she folded up her pajama bottoms and wedged them under the handle strategically to force the vibrating head against her clit. Smiling at her ingenuity, she flexed her tired hand and arm, lay back down, and let her mind float again.
Before her eyes drifted closed she looked at the clock, 1:34. She mentally shrugged and added a week to her projected fast. She lay there wondering what it would be like. Would it be easy or would she be totally horny? She wondered what it would be like to serve him without any prospect of satisfaction. She was not so worried that she would not be able to do it, would become somehow spontaneously orgasmic. Orgasms were perfectly possible but took some effort and concentration. But what would it be like to have none, none at all?
She shifted a little and the head of the vibrator settled a little deeper into her flesh, sending a sharp pang of agony through her. She winced and blinked a few times but the bedroom seemed too normal, too at odds with her predicament to bear and she closed her eyes once more and retreated deep into her mind.
She was amazed to feel the tension building in her body again, her thigh and belly muscles jerking. It was odd, she did not feel it all that much in her cunt, but somehow the messages were getting up to her brain and her body was trying to respond. Normally she did not find internal stimulation that helpful somehow her cunt felt empty and she wished he was here to fuck her. If he was fucking her she knew she would be able to make it happen again. Experimentally she reached down and slid her fingers into her cunt. She was not surprised to find it hot and very wet. Her fingers were cool in contrast and felt kind of nice. The heel of her hand was pressed down on the vibrator as she tried to force her fingers in deeper, searching for that elusive g-spot.
She had read about it, and once or twice found it, but only after extended sessions when she was too tired to appreciate it. He usually did not bother with her orgasms all that much, demanding she learns to come on his countdown but only as she had masturbated for him, and only engaging in this kind of play on rare occasions. In fact, he seemed to prefer not to come while he used her. He did not have the patience to force her to reach this place like where she was now, very often.
She wished she had a dildo or something huge to shove up there, anything to make the empty feeling go away. She had mentioned perhaps wanting one once. He had said that her vibrator was all she needed, that she masturbated too much as it was and that a dildo would only make her do it more often. She also wondered if he did not like the idea of her having something that obviously phallic. It seemed like his use of her this morning in the shower was days instead of hours ago.
She worked her fingers inside her passage, massaging the inside walls and was rewarded by that deep achy sensation that was so close to needing to pee, but not quite. Softly she breathed out a triumphant, “Yesssss,” and felt her body begin to shake with a pending explosion. This time she did not bother to count her thoughts too clouded to think about anything but the building passion that was threatening to tear her apart.
Normally she was pretty quiet when she orgasmed but this time a loud harsh grunting scream was forced from her lips as she thrust her fingers in as deeply as she could, curling up and jerking with waves of blinding ecstasy. She was mindless, almost howling. It had never been so strong before. The vibrator was still going, compelling her body to writhe along with its demanding rhythms. She blinked and looked at the clock, 2:30. According to his instructions she had to leave it there.
She wailed in defeat, “Oh god, I can’t keep doing this.” But she knew she would. She knew that even if she were unconscious when he got home that the vibrator would still be there, battering her tender parts to mush.
Her hand shook so hard as she wrote the time down that it was almost unreadable. She reached for the glass of wine and slopped a little on the sheets as she took one deep swallow and then a second. There were still some ice cubes floating in the pitcher and she reached in and grabbed a couple and pressed them to her burning cunt. The sudden cold was agony and she let out a hoarse squawk but kept the ice pressed against her tortured flesh.
The cubes melted quickly and she reached for some more, ignoring the wide wet spot forming on the bed under her ass. The handle of the vibrator was getting hot and she carefully made sure that she folded up pajama bottoms were between her and the hot plastic. A tiny hopeful thought that maybe the thing would just wear out intruded into her mind, and she let out a tiny hysterical giggle as she visualized it melting in her hand or exploding.
When the second handful of ice cubes melted she let her hand fall to the side, letting her body sag limp and weak on the damp sheets. She was simultaneously chilled and too hot, her body shivering but at the same time sweating. Keeping her eyes closed she just tried to breathe and relax. Even if he hadn’t been serious about coming home late she did not expect him home before 5:30. Peeking at the clock she saw that it was only 3:14.
Hoping that if it were possible to come again, her body would wake her up, she pulled the sheet over her body and let her mind drift further and further until sleep took her. His weight making the mattress sag and shift was what woke her. Her eyes flashed open to see him sitting on the edge of the mattress looking down at her. Convulsing in guilt she gasped and stammered, “Oh god, Sir…” but he put his fingers over her lips, silencing her. She looked past his hand at the clock. It said 4:30. He was home an hour early.
She became aware that her hips and belly were jerking in what seemed to be an endless series of small agonizing convulsive jerks, her empty cunt clenching and opening spasmodically like the mouth of a dying fish. Her tortured flesh was curiously numb but sharp lances of pain were shooting up from her whole pelvic area. Looking up at his face she reached up and pressed his fingers even more tightly to her lips and then burst into sobs. He reached across to the dropped paper she had been writing on and raised an eyebrow.
“Do you want to try for one more or are you willing to just accept the extra week?”
Her voice was choked, “Oh god, make it stop.”
He pulled the sheet back and looked at the makeshift manner she had used to trap the vibrator in place. When he reached to pull it away, he exclaimed and jerked his hand away as the hot handle almost burnt his fingers, “Shit.” She looked down dully as he used the pajama bottoms to pull the heated item from her panties. He looked a little concerned and quickly turned off the vibrator and dropped it to one side. Quickly he pulled her panties off and spread her legs. “Are you burned?”
Her voice was confused and uncertain, “I don’t know. It hurts but it feels kind of numb too,” She paused, “like when your foot goes to sleep and is trying to wake up, sharp painful tingly numbness.” For the first time she wondered if she might not have injured her cunt.
He frowned and peered closely at her crotch. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked down. Her cunt looked swollen and amazingly deep red but she couldn’t see any blisters or bruises. She asked softly, “Sir, would it be permitted to put some ice on it?”
He pushed her back down flat and muttered, “Stay there.”
When he came back he had some burn cream and to her relief an icepack. His touch was amazingly light and tender as he spread the ointment on her skin. His voice was a little gruff, “You should have called me and let me know it was getting so hot.”
The icepack was heavenly and she sighed. “Yes Sir, I guess I should have. I thought that putting the cloth around it was protecting me enough, but I should have informed you.” Then she mumbled, “And it sort of was numb and painful after a while. It was hard to tell if it was too hot.”
He chuckled at her confession, “Your poor pussy was all confused.”
She looked up at him with wide eyes and nodded in agreement. After she stopped holding the icepack against herself, her whole cunt continued to throb and tingle like the vibrator was still there and her clit had this strange tendency to randomly twitch, making her jump and wince.
He made her stay in bed all that evening, bringing her some take out Chinese food to eat. When she begged to be allowed to get up to use the bathroom she was shocked at how much it hurt to pee.
After dinner he made her spread her legs again and closely examined her flesh. Speaking briskly and clinically he commented, “No burns but it looks like it has been used hard.” Then to her dismay, he leaned down and began to gently run his tongue over her tender tissues. She almost reflexively reached down to shove him away, but she stopped herself just in time. This was almost more than she could bear. He hardly ever lowered himself to perform this intimate caress.
He looked up and chuckled at the terrorized expression on her face, his tight sadistic smile on his lips, “Hands and knees, bitch.”
Her eyes grew large as she realized his intent. But she obediently assumed the position, scooting down to the bottom edge of the bed to the place he demanded she take when he chose to use her. He opened his pants and shoved deep into her from behind, taking her hard and fast. Surprisingly it did not hurt as much as she had thought it might, but it still burned and the sensation of the skin being stretched and pulled back and forth across her clit was intense and she found herself heating and warming under his pounding.
He grabbed her shoulders and growled out, “Your cunt is so hot, it’s like fucking a volcano.”
She focused on squeezing as tight as she could on his cock, reveling in his growls and grunts as he plunged into her hard, his hips slapping into her ass. Softly she urged him on, “Yes, hot, hot for you.” When he shuddered and groaned with his climax, she found herself calling to him, “Yes, oh yes,” filled with emotion as she felt his cock flexing deep inside her, filling her with his essence.
He leaned down over her, his voice a little foggy, “You didn’t come did you?”
“No Sir.”
His voice was a little triumphant, “Good, only six more weeks to go.”
It was a rare day when her master called on her. Even rarer lately. Apparently, this cold Friday was one of the rare ones. No one in her life knew she had a master, not even her husband. She had met him online a few months before, knowing only that she needed something different. Something to challenge her.
As they met on a regular basis for the first little while, she was challenged plenty. She was used, hurt, chewed up and spit out, and still, she wanted more. So whenever he called, she came.
And now he called again. “This will be the last time,” he said. “This is what I’ve been preparing you for.” She protested the idea that it would be the last time. “Too bad. I’m your master, and this is my final set of orders. You’ll do as I say.”
Disappointed, she finally said, “Yes, Sir.”
So she followed his orders. Before leaving, she left a note for her husband, letting him know she had to go away for the weekend on business.
Then she went to the drug store he told her to and picked up the order for Mr. Hand. The clerk looked at her a bit funny but gave her the bag. As ordered, she didn’t peek inside.
She took it to the dive of a hotel he asked her to join him at and went immediately up to his room. She was to join him for the weekend.
Immediately upon entering, he removed all of her clothes and put them in a bag. He told her to open the bag from the drugstore. Inside was a package of adult diapers. She shuddered a little. Thought of old people wearing them, and using them, and being changed.
He noticed and laughed. “Put one on,” he ordered. It took her a while to figure out the tape and how to get it to stay on securely. She saw herself in the mirror and was disgusted at how it ruined the shape of her body. A big plastic white bulge where her hips should be.
She kept her eyes down, never looking him in the face, as was their custom. He grabbed her hair and dragged her to the tiny dingy little hotel bathroom.
“Drink from the toilet,” he growled. She hesitated. He grabbed her hair and stuffed her head into the toilet. After a moment of gasping, he pulled it back out. “When I tell you to do something, you do it.”
So she drank from the toilet like a dog. He pulled out a camera and took pictures of her doing it. She tried to protest, but he shoved her head back into the toilet.
She whimpered, embarrassed beyond belief. Nothing he’d made her do so far had been anything like this. After a while, he gently wiped the toilet water off her face.
Someone knocked on the hotel room door. He gave her a wad of cash and told her to answer the door, as she was. Mortified, she did so. It was a pizza delivery man. He, clearly even more shocked than she was, hesitated. She handed him the cash, more than enough for the pizzas he was delivering, took the pizzas, and slammed the door in his face.
“That wasn’t very nice,” her master said with a grin. Next time you’ll have to be more courteous. She almost panicked, thinking next time?
He brought her back to the bathroom and used zip-ties around her wrists, tying her arms together behind her back. He then took a piece of rope and tied the zip-tie to the u-pipe behind the toilet.
He put one of the pizzas on the ground in front of her. She was starving hungry, but without her hands, she wasn’t sure how she would be able to eat.
“I’m leaving. I’ll be back in about an hour. Enjoy your pizza.”
After he left, with her clothes, she sat there wondering what to do. Eventually, hunger got the best of her and she started eating the pizza right off the floor. It was greasy pizza but had thankfully cooled off a bit since it arrived. After a while, she was thirsty but refused to drink from the toilet.
Eventually, her stomach was starting to growl. The greasy food had run straight through her, and now wanted out. She held it in as best she could, hoping her master would come back soon and let her use the toilet.
He did come back, eventually. He smelled like vodka, and the bag with her clothes in it wasn’t on him when he returned. She begged and pleaded to use the toilet, but all he said was “No.”
He went into the other room and started watching TV. She could hear him eating the other pizza that had been ordered. She curled up into a ball and whimpered, unable to think of anything but her need to use the toilet.
About an hour later, cramping up beyond belief, her body let go on its own. The diaper filled up with shit. She moaned as she felt the mess building; it was a huge relief. A few seconds later the smell hit and she got nauseous.
Her master came in the room, grinning. She lay on the floor, disgusted with herself. “Well, now we’re getting somewhere.”
He cut the zip tie and retied the rope around one of her wrists. He also took a picture of her, looking messy from eating pizza like a pig and with a full diaper.
“From now until 8PM on Saturday, you’re not allowed to use the toilet. You will drink only from the toilet, and you will eat everything I put in front of you. You may not leave the bathroom unless I say so, and you may not change your diaper. If you violate any of these rules, there will be punishment and you will be tied back up. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
He gave her a pillow from the bed and a blanket put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door of the hotel room and closed her bathroom door. Outside, she could once again hear her master eating and watching television.
Exhausted and humiliated, she fell asleep eventually.
She was woken up suddenly, however, a few hours later. Her master was shaking her. She woke up groggily and looked up at him, taking a rare glance at his eyes. He was enjoying this, she could tell.
“One more thing. For the weekend, whenever I need it, you will be my urinal. I expect you to drink every drop that I piss into your mouth, and to lick up anything that spills onto the floor. If you fail in this, it will get worse.”
He pulled her up onto her knees, and she opened her mouth, still too groggy to argue. The position was familiar enough from previous sessions, even if the act was not. How bad can it be, she thought naively.
And then the stream went in her mouth. And it made her gag. She tried her best to swallow it all, but there seemed to be an endless amount of it. She drank and a lot of spilled. When he was done, he had a massive hardon.
“Lick it up from the floor, cunt. I want this floor spotless.” As she licked it up, still retching a bit, he stood over her, jerking off. As he came, he yanked her up by her hair and came in it. He rubbed the cum into her hair like it was shampoo and then went to wash his hands.
“Not bad, for the first time. Your training is going well. Go back to sleep now.”
Bella suppressed a shiver of anticipation as she heard the door open. She had done as he instructed, the bath was steaming, rose petals floating on the surface, candles burning, making the light in the steam warmed room soft subtle. She hurried to the door to greet him, her posture as straight as it could be thanks to the presents he left her this morning.
She wore the white lace corset, tied loosely at the back. To her shame, it was almost too small for her and much of her back was exposed. She felt better about the rest of her attire, however. Where he had found the leather miniskirt she didn’t know, but she loved the feel of it as it brushed against the skin of her thighs, covered only by the silken stockings and garters left for her in the innocuous package left at the foot of their bed. Her hair gleamed in the soft light, washed, perfumed, and brushed so that it softly ran across her neck as she moved. Then there was the collar.
She was still getting used to that and Ian was so patient with her about it. She had it on loosely this evening, not being able to bring herself to tighten it completely, but wanting to wear his symbol.
She moved to the door, worried she had taken too long, and hurriedly opened it, moving aside to let him in. He looked at her with one eyebrow raised but said nothing as he handed her his things. He did pause briefly to nod his approval of her outfit and moved into the living room, heading towards the open fireplace with hands out to soak up some of it’s heat. He looked around and noted she had moved the coffee table and had spread the small mattress they had in front of the fire. His first smile of the night came as he saw the assortment of toys setting to the side of the mattress, Bella hung up his coat and put the rest of his things in their places, then moved to stand to his side, eyes down.
Ian ran his hands over her shoulders, the sudden shift in temperature making her shiver, and her nipples harden. She moved into his touch ever so slightly. His hands followed a path down her sides, stopping to cup her waist for a moment, then moving on down to the back of her skirt. Again his hands cupped her. This time, he held the cheeks of her ass firmly in both hands and pulled her closer to him, taking her mouth in a sudden kiss that made her gasp between his lips.
As he kissed her, his hands moved down the skirt and flirted with the bare skin between the garter and the stockings, making her moan softly into his mouth. His hands skimmed under the skirt to her ass cheeks once more, bare except for the garter belt. He squeezed her ass cheeks, the warm muscles held tightly in his palms, as she wriggled to move even closer to him. He lifted his mouth from hers and smiled. “A bit eager tonight, aren’t we” Bella nodded and smiled downward, quickly checking her handy work. She had made his dinner and set it out on the table by the mattress. Alongside that was a variety of oils and lotions he had specifically ordered her to set out.
He pushed her back from him and settled himself on the couch, setting his feet out. Bella knelt at his feet and untied his shoes, slipping them off gently.
After taking his socks off, she reached for the rag in the warm perfumed water by the sofa. She washed his feet slowly, unaware of how the collar glinted in the firelight, and even more unaware of the smile it brought to Ian’s face.
As she washed his feet, he played with exposed skin along her back. He didn’t seem to mind that there was a gap between the fabric, and she was grateful, she always wanted to please him, look good for him, serve him. His feet clean, she then took a towel that had been laying by the fireplace and still held it’s warmth. She tried his feet with the same care she did everything else this evening. It was supposed to be perfect. She knelt beside him and lifted his plate. Before he took it from her, he gently took her chin in his hands and looked her in the eyes. “You may eat now as well” She took her plate and quietly began eating as he did. The steak had turned out perfect and he ate with complete enjoyment and focus on the meal. The twice-baked potatoes got a rare compliment from him. After finishing the meal, she quietly got up and took them to the kitchen to be washed later. She got another plate out of the refrigerator and a small can. She took them with her and set them on the floor next to her as she knelt. She took a red, ripe strawberry and sprayed a small amount of whipped cream on it, and held it up to his mouth. He took a small bite and she sat up and slowly licked the small trickle of juice that ran down the side of his mouth. She sat back down quickly, her eyes to the floor Had she been too bold? But he just smiled and reached for the plate himself. After repeating her actions, he held the strawberry out for her, keeping it just out of reach until she was almost leaning across his lap. He finally let her take the ripe fruit in her mouth and watched as she slowly chewed and swallowed. Her dainty tongue slipped out to catch the juice and she smiled up at him, her look sly and devilish, for just a moment.
The dessert finished, she moved those dishes aside to let him stand. He moved closer to her, his hips barely a breath away from her mouth. She pursed her lips and breathed out, her breath grazing his crotch, causing a small sound to come from him, and his hands to reach out and wrap in her hair, pulling her closer, her lips now touching the fabric of his pants. She nuzzled and breathed into the fabric, smiling to herself as his hips thrust forward.
Suddenly he pushed her back and held out his arms. Knowing what he wanted, she stood and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, taking her time to lick and nip at his bared skin as she did so. Several times she looked to him for permission, but he just smiled and nodded, so she continued. After she slid the shirt from his shoulders and laid it aside, she reached for his belt, undoing the buckle and slowly pulling it free from its loops. That joined the shirt off to the side. She reached to the front of his pants and lightly rubbed the growing bulge there. Ian gave a low growl and placed her fingers on the zipper. “I didn’t say you could play yet”
Bella quickly looked down and inched the zipper down. She was doing what she was told, but with excruciating slowness, causing Ian to growl once again. Finally, the zipper reached its bottom point and she moved her hands around to the sides of his pants. She tickled the skin as she did so, earning another censured glance from Ian. Finally, she hooked her fingers into the pants and pulled down. She pushed them over his hips and ass and then moved her hands forward to gently pull the pants down over his growing erection, and if her hand lingered just a little bit, well no one knew for sure did they. Keeping her head down, she let the smile play over her lips before pulling the pants down the rest of the way. His boxer shorts quickly followed. She didn’t take her time with them, because she could feel his rising impatience.
With him finally undressed, she led him to the bathroom and into the steamy atmosphere created by the bath. The candles lent a soft glow to their skin as she moved aside to let him step into the steaming water. As he sighed and leaned back she moved to the side and spoke, “With your position, I will change tops, I don’t want to get water on the satin.” He nodded, then spoke, “Put the black vest top on, I want as much skin as possible and hurry up, I don’t want to be kept waiting.”
She nodded and quickly moved into the bedroom and changed into the requested top, setting the corset aside and moving back to the bathroom.
He was still lying back against the tub rim when she returned, his eyes closed as he took in the warmth of the water. When she came back in, he again nodded at her and she took her place at his side. She took the cup from the things she had placed there earlier and filled it with water, having him move his head back so that she could let the water run through his hair and down his back. After his hair was wet through, she took the shampoo and began to massage it in, again smiling to herself at the soft noises of pleasure he made, sounds he was probably not even aware of. She finished with the shampoo and slowly rinsed his hair, following the same procedure with the conditioner he liked.
After she finished she took the small towel and wiped his face dry. Setting it aside, she picked up the scrub pad and added some body wash to it, slowly rubbing it over his chest and shoulders until they were white with the foam. She again took the cup and rinsed him off, then looked up for a moment, “Please sit forward so I can get your back.” He nodded and sat forward, letting her rub the lather all over his back and rinsing it after.
She again spoke, “Please stand, so I can make sure I get all of you. He smiled a bit, but acquiesced, standing with his arms at his side. She took the scrub and lathered it once more before starting at his thigh and running the rough scrub over his skin. She moved across his waist, then over his thigh, inside and out, careful not to touch his twitching cock, even though she purposely moved her face closer to that sensitive area, and exhaled, but she was just breathing, wasn’t she?
She moved down his leg to his feet and then began to move up the other side. She took pleasure in his little sighs and lightened her touch a bit, then made it a bit rougher, letting him revel in the sensations. Once more she reached the top of his thigh, reaching between his legs, scrubbing the skin there, and accidentally brushing his ever-growing cock.
She rinsed the scrubber and then used it to rinse the soap off of his legs. She then took a washcloth and wet it before adding soap. This she used to wash slowly between his legs, up across his tightening balls and hardened cock. She washed down under his balls, loving the moan he made. She rinsed the cloth and then rinsed the areas she had just washed, moving her face closer to his skin and giving just a little lick, just to make sure the soap was gone.
Adding more soap, she asked him to turn around and began washing his lower hips and ass cheeks. Dipping lower, she washed between his cheeks, alternating washing and rinsing, each time tasting to make sure the soap was gone. By this time he had his hands up on the wall to hold himself up, and had spread his legs to help her with access to his most private areas. Once again soaping the cloth, she ran it between his legs, and up, soaping between the crack of his as, rubbing against his anus as he groaned in pleasure. Rinse again, and wash one more time, making everything clean and tasty. From behind she slid the cloth over his anus again, feeling the way it puckered as she massaged that area, allowing the cloth to ever so slightly enter the hole. Then she moved forward some more, lathering the area under his tightened balls, almost laughing at his groan and as he gritted out, “You will pay for this.”
She did let the smallest of a laugh escape her as she drew the cloth up the length of his cock and back down again, carefully washing his balls once more. She rinsed the cloth, then rinsed the areas she had just washed, and as before, traced her tongue over the trail the cloth had taken. She stopped and took her time as her tongue pushed in slightly to the entrance of his anus, wriggling it a bit until she heard him biting back an oath and moving back from her, turning around and grabbing her hair and thrusting himself into her mouth. Surprised she gagged for a moment, then caught his fierce rhythm, taking him deeply into her throat as her hands moved up to massage him. Cupping his balls, moving her hands around behind them, fingering his anus, all of this while his cock was stuffed in her mouth. After a few moments of this, he pushed her back from him, his cock wet and shiny, the tip engorged and almost purple. “You went to far little girl, now I will have to punish you” His voice was firm, but there was a slight smile playing around his lips. She didn’t see the smile however, because she was on her knees in front of him, her head down.
He tapped her on the shoulder and held his arms out. She scrambled to her feet and took the soft towels beside her and began drying him. The smaller one she used on his hair, careful not to pull at the long locks. After drying it as best she could, she took the other towel and began drying his body. She started at the top and slowly dried all the water from his skin. As she reached his waist, she slowly toweled off his groin area, rubbing the material against his still hard cock before moving down his legs. He stepped out onto the mat and turned around so she could give the same care to his back. Again she slowly dried him off, lingering on sensitive areas, like between his legs and under his balls.
Finally, he was dry and she led him back into the living room and the fire. He laid down on the mattress as she stoked the fireplace, making the flames jump and crackle. She then knelt beside him and took one of the bottles of oil, spreading some on her hands and then rubbing them together so the oil would not be cold against his warmed skin. She started at his back and shoulders rubbing and massaging as much as she could, silently cursing the fact that her hands would no longer allow her to do the job she once could. However, she rubbed and massaged down his back, neck, and sides, then re-oiled her hands. She moved down to his upper thighs and ass and stroked the oil over them, rubbing it into the crease between his cheeks, once more paying close attention to the sensitive area around and just inside the muscles of his anus. Another sound came from him and she moved on, rubbing the oil between his legs and under his balls, caressing the undersides with her slick hands. She again re-oiled her hands and moved down his thighs and legs, oiling and rubbing and sometimes, leaning down and letting her breathe run lightly over the freshly oiled skin. She paid special attention to his ankles and the underside of his feet before moving back to let him turn over.
She started with his arms this time, oiling down his biceps and moving down to his forearms and his hands. She took special care with his hands, massaging each one and drawing the oil up and around each finger, following each motion with a soft kiss. Ian looked as though he might say something, but with a lift of his finger he let it go.
She then moved on to his chest and waist, moving the oil over his skin, accidentally brushing him with her hair, or bare arms, her oiled hands moving lower and lower. She oiled the outside of his thighs and down inside, without ever brushing his twitching cock or his tightening balls. She had to take a deep breathe to keep from licking away the drop of precum at his tip, but this was not the time for that. She stroked the oil down each leg, rubbing it into his skin, finally reaching his feet and giving them the same treatment she had his hands. After this was finished, she rinsed and dried her hands and reached for a different bottle, this one a flavored lube she especially liked. She warmed it again and reached out, gently stroking the top of his cock, before closing her hand around him and sliding down very slowly. His hips bucked upwards as she moved and his eyes half closed, a deep moan coming from his chest. She used more of the lube and caressed his balls as well, going between them and his cock, felling the balls tighten even more and his cock twitch and become even harder, the precum almost dripping now. She leaned down and just flicked her tongue over his head, then looked back at him. He raised one eyebrow as he looked back at her and shook his head, just a bit. Sighing at having to leave such a delectable treat, she nodded and knelt back. He stood and looked at her. “Okay now, set those restraints up, and you had better do it right. You have been bad and it is time for me to punish you.” Bella shivered a bit, although more in pleasure than fear. Ian was a good Dom, he never went beyond that line of pain and pleasure, always making sure the punishment served several purposes.
Bella quickly set up the restraints using the custom design that held them out of sight of the average viewer. The hand restraints were set at the top corner of the mattress, and the ankle restraints at the bottom. Once she finished, she went back to kneel at his feet. He nodded and then looked down. “I want the top off; I plan on playing with those tits until you beg for mercy.” He crooked a grin, “Well actually I expect you to beg for mercy several times tonight.” Bella shivered again, this time with a bit of apprehension. Once those restraints were locked on, she was at his mercy, completely, but then the apprehension changed to anticipation and she felt her pussy begin to warm, her juices beginning to run.
She took the top off, as requested, and laid down in place on the mattress. Before he locked her in, Ian again stoked the fire. It wouldn’t do for either of them to get cold. He locked her in place, taking his time about it. Lifting her arm slightly, and kissing the front of it, then locking the restraint, brushing his hand completely down her back before taking her foot and nibbling on her ankle. He then locked her ankle in and repeated the process on the other side. He laid a small pillow in front of her so she wouldn’t kink her neck and nlet her lift her head to lay on it. His final action was to slip her blindfold on, cutting off all light.
She lay there for a minute, soaking in the warmth of the fire, and feeling for his presence. He was quiet and she couldn’t quite follow his movements. Suddenly she felt something cold run down her back, soon followed by his tongue. She shivered and her nipples tightened even more. He moved away again and she felt the sharp sting of the riding crop on her left cheek, followed by several rubs of his hand. “That was just to get your attention. Do I have it?”
She nodded, not having been given permission to speak. “You have been a bad girl today. I have several things I have to punish you for, you know that, right?” She nodded again, trying to make it look contrite. He reached down and pulled up her skirt, so her ass cheeks were framed by the garter belt. He caressed them for a moment before delivering a stinging blow. She made a noise she couldn’t quite hold back and wriggled just a bit. Once more, he rubbed the offended place, before again delivering a heavy slap. This one had hit almost the same place as the last, and it had hurt a bit. She made a small sound but didn’t move, that would call for even more punishment. He rubbed her ass cheeks once more, reaching down between her legs and finding her already getting wet. “What a naughty little girl, getting excited by a spanking, what a little slut. I will definitely make sure the punishment fits the crime.” He spent another minute fingering her pussy, getting her wetter and wetter, before moving his hands and sitting back. She heard movement, but she didn’t know from where, then suddenly she knew, the flogger hit, striking both cheeks at the same time. The leather soft, yet stinging at the same time. She winced, she couldn’t help it, it STUNG. The wincing did nothing but earn her two extra lashes before his hand descended to rub the pained area. He leaned down and she felt his mouth on one cheek and she shivered again. And once more his hand was between her legs, playing with her pussy. He laughed softly before speaking, “You really are my little slut, aren’t you?”
She could do nothing but nod as he played gently with the nub of her clit, and rubbed her reddened ass cheeks. She was so excited by now, she could feel her orgasm. Before it crested, however, he took his hand away and moved back. This time she couldn’t hold back the moan of frustration. He simply laughed at her, the sound seeming to move around the room as she tried to place his position.
Suddenly she felt the flogger hit across her back, this stroke almost like a caress. He pulled the thongs across her body slowly, then twirled them and pulled them down across her ass cheeks. As the last thong lifted, she heard the swing of the flogger and felt the strike. One… Two… Three… Four strokes, she could feel the flesh rising already, then once more, his hand followed, rubbing and caressing as she whimpered softly, his hand reaching to cup her pussy once more. This time his laugh was louder. “You are a dirty little girl aren’t you? You almost came from that, didn’t you? Such a responsive little slut.”
Bella bit her lip to allow no more sound. The hand fingering her pussy was making circles around her clit, moving but not quite touching that sensitive bit of flesh, and she was unconsciously grinding her hips into his hand, her breathing getting faster and harsher. Once again, as quickly as he had started, he stopped, and she could feel the ache all the way down to her toes. Her hands knotted in fists and she wanted to yell, but that would only make things worse.
He chuckled again and moved back once more, then his bare hand came down on her ass cheek, first a sting, then a squeeze, then a rub, God, he was making her crazy. He did this several more times, then again reached down to finger her. Once more he laughed as he stopped just short of letting her come. This was getting almost painful. Finally, he used the flogger on her several more times and then just rubbed her ass for a few moments. He reached down and undid her legs, and she started to squirm. When he reached up to undo her arms, she turned and moved towards him immediately. Then she saw the look on his face and stopped short. “I didn’t say you could move, now did I?” She shook her head and sat there until he told her to lay back down, stomach up and spread her hands and legs. She shifted slightly, the mattress feeling rough and prickly against her tender ass, and her legs were getting chilly from where her juices had run down them the other way. Her clit still throbbed though, and her nipples were so hard they hurt. He again locked the restraints and put the mask back on her. The next thing she felt was him pinching her nipples, followed by the cold rubber of his nipple clamps. He had set them so that they just hurt, but at the same time had her clit throbbing more. She heard him reach for something and felt the horsehair flogger brush against her oversensitized nipples. She bit back a cry as he flicked it a bit harder, the pain and the pleasure mixing into a blur. Back and forth the flick of horsehair went, just flicking the tip of each nipple. She wriggled and writhed, biting her lip to not make a sound. Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped, and she was one big, throbbing mass.
He must have stepped back then because she felt nothing, nothing but raw nerve endings and a throbbing that seemed to be in time with her heart beat. Her pussy throbbed and dripped, her nipples throbbed, even her thighs throbbed. She didn’t know how long she lay there, aware of nothing but the quivering of her body until finally, she felt the softest brush of his hand on her thigh, the sensitive skin between the garter and the stockings. He rubbed the skin on one leg, then the other, then began rubbing higher and higher, her body again tightened in anticipation, her bit lips not being able to stop the moan that came out of her when he again circled her clit, then shoved his finger deep in her pussy. She could feel her inner muscles clamping on to his finger, her juices gushing around it. He pulled his finger free and she heard the buzz of a vibrator. He moved it down her body until it was just over her clit. He touched that small nub and she nearly jumped. Too much… God, too much, as sensitive as she was, that was almost painful. As if reading her mind, he pulled the vibrator back and played around her clit, the sensations building and building. She was moaning and writing now, she couldn’t help it. She was so close to coming. Then, one more time, he pulled the vibrator away just before she came, she almost growled her frustration, and was opening her lips to say something when she felt him, he quickly covered her and with no preliminary, shoved his cock deep inside. They both groaned at the feelings and he began to move inside her. His cock was so hard it felt like silk-covered steel to her, and she was all wet and satin and grasping to him. He moved up her body just a bit, sacrificing some of the depth to get a good angle on her clit. As he stroked, he could almost feel it growing, and her moans as she tugged on the restraints told their own story. She shifted her hips just a bit and thrust her pelvis up to him, screaming his name as she came. Her pussy tightened around him and he gave one, two, three more strokes before he pulsed and spilled inside her. He held himself off of her until he finished spurting and then gently lay down across her body, both of them unable to do much more than breathe.
Finally he moved and reached down for the rag in the now cooling water. He washed them both off, then gently removed her restraints. After retrieving the blanket and pillows, he lay down beside her and pulled her close “That’s my good girl” he whispered before they both drifted off to sleep
I wasn’t going to come in tonight. I wasn’t feeling so good and just wanted to relax at home. But then, my fucking roommate used up all my minutes on my cell phone, and I guess that motivated me to get out and make some money.
So here I am, swaying and swinging and straddling for our huge crowd of three bored guys. Fucking Midwest. It wouldn’t be like this in Chicago, I’ll bet. Then a group of guys comes in, and we’re all interested. Not just because of the strangers, but because of the familiar, that’s with them. I don’t know his name, don’t think anyone does, and I’ve never even seen him up close. I’ve only seen a few times, usually when I’m about to go home. But I remember every time. There is something different about him.
As soon as he sits down on a chair he dragged out from the table, I’m on him. I’m not going to pass this up tonight. I’ve always hated lap dances, how the customers always, fucking always try to get more than what they know they can have. How many fucking signs saying “Don’t touch the dancers” do we fucking need around here? And then I’m the one who gets in trouble if a guy gets fresh because I’m not supposed to touch the customers either.
But this is so different. He’s not touching me, and I want him to. He leans back in his chair, pounding those whiskeys like it’s water, and stares up at me. I’m not sure how drunk he might be already, but those bright green eyes are sharp and clear on me like they’re not missing a thing. I dance like I’m auditioning, and he just gives me this broken grin, this smirk that’s like the snapped straw that makes me feel so pathetic. I guess I’m just so used to men gawking up at me, loving everything I was doing. Fuck, I’m the youngest here, and the only one that actually looks like a girl, of course, I’m the star whenever I come in. But this guy isn’t impressed, and he’s really enjoying making me feel this way.
The bartender brings him another tray, and I take the lime and shove it in his mouth after he takes another shot, and I let my finger linger by his mouth for a moment as I take the lime away. He licks his lips, still staring at me. “Come on, you can do better than that,” he growls and I can tell I’m blushing.
“I don’t see you busting your ass in a g-string,” I tell him with a wink, and I step closer to him. I’ve got my crotch just barely brushing against his chest, and I’m tracing my fingers around the underside of my breast. I don’t have to touch myself to tell you that I am very, very wet right now. One look in his wild eyes and he knows it too.
He pulls a handful of hair, bringing me eye level with him. He tugs so roughly, but ever the actress, I manage to bend down as gracefully as I can, as if I meant to. If anyone else did this to me I’d beat him with my 6-inch clear heels, but because it’s him, I’m lightheaded. “I’ve seen you before, smart ass,” he says with a smirk. “And you’ve done better.”
He lets go of my hair and then I drive my hands through it, sweeping my head from side to side with the music. Then I put my hands on his shoulders and stare into his face, my hair a wild mess around my head, and I press my mouth on his. My heart is pounding and I only meant to touch his lips, but he opens his mouth and forces his tongue inside. I kiss him so savagely, but we don’t touch each other. We just kiss and then I’m back to dancing for him.
“That’s more fucking like it,” he says, and he gently drags his fingers down my back. My skin crawls, and I moan softly. I’m now spreading my legs as wide as I can and rubbing myself on his shirt. With a hand pressing on my shoulder, he pushes me to his lap. For a few minutes, I drag myself across his erection. I can feel the head of his cock through his pants. His zipper scratches against my clit through my tiny panties.
I sneak a peak to my side and I see the rest of the guys sitting at a table. There is one who’s staring at us, horrified. Fascinated. It’s really turning me on to be watched like this, especially since this is different from all those other times. Dancing on top of this guy, being touched by him, I might as well be fucking. The other guy at the table, well he has the same look as the one I’m dancing for, except my guy has blazing eyes, the other’s is haunted. I notice that they glance at each other too.
“Who is that?” I ask him.
“You like him?” he snarls, and I bite my lip.
“Well,”
“It’s ok, you can like him,” he says, and he pushes up his hips, banging into me. I gasp, but I keep dancing. The song is almost over. “He’s my little brother.” O yes, I can see that now. They’re like night and day, those two. Each living on the other side of the mirror.
The song ends, but he holds me there with a hand on my hip. “One more, baby,” he says. So I stay, and I dance again. “He’s cute, isn’t he?” he says to me, when he catches me glancing at his brother.
“Uh, ya sure.”
We barely make it through the first verse before he stands up, almost knocking me over. “Meet me in the VIP lounge,” he says in my ear, his voice grating. I look back to see him approach his brother while I skitter on to one of the alcoves hidden away by a velvet curtain. I see the redhead cringe and pull away, and then shoot me an evil look. I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean, so I just keep going until the curtain hides me.
That guy is making me wait. The song is nearly over and I’m still waiting in that little room, my legs shaking with impatience, my heart still racing. I’m excited to be alone with this guy, but I also scared.
When he pulls the curtain back and steps in slowly, I’m just staring up at him, like some stupid little girl. Who would have guessed that I’ve been stripping for years, fending drunk guys off, busting ass for rent every month, protecting myself against any girls who decide to get crazy on me, and yet I’m staring up at this guy, so scared, so small? He pushes me to the floor with a hand on my head, and I’m on my knees, touching his legs. His hand holds me against his crotch, and I rub my face over it. I can smell him, I can feel his hard-on against my cheek.
“You’re so sweet,” he snarls down at me, and he crouches, his hand gripping my hair tight. He yanks my head back and air is forced out of my throat. His breath tickles my throat, and I can feel the moist heat from his mouth. “Too bad this is just all for a tip.”
“Fuck the tip!” I moan and shiver against his closing fingers. “I just want you.”
“Is that so,” he says, and he shoves me to the bench. I watch him eagerly as he unzips his pants. “You want this?” He pulls out his cock, and I just stare. He grabs my hair and shakes. “Well?”
“Yes!” I yelp. I feel his dick against my face, and watch him bare his teeth at me. “God, yes.”
He lets me take it into my mouth, and I make love to it. I’m imagining it inside me as I lick, and his smell is thick in my nose. Then he shoves it down my throat as hard as he can, and I’m gagging, clutching at his pants. “Come on, you whore,” he snarls. “Take it all.” I almost puke before he pulls it out, only to shove it back in several more times.
When he pulls it out he keeps it by my face and then reaches his hand down. I shift my hips towards him and let him drive his fingers into me. I rub against his finger as it grinds my clit. Panting, I throw my head back and let him pleasure me. I’ve never felt anything like this and seeing his wild look, his teeth glint, feeling his fingers on my scalp tighten and scratch, I feel so vulnerable. I think that if I tried to get away from him right now, I wouldn’t be able to.
While he rubs me, he pulls harder on my hair, tugging my head back. I grimace and let out a tiny, raspy sound, and then he lets go. He shoves me to the floor and snaps, “Take those off.” I do as quickly as I can, and then he’s on me, his knees on either side of my body. I lean back, lifting my hips. He finds a nipple between thumb and finger and twists. The louder I cry out, the harder he pulls, but I don’t ask him to stop. I kiss him when he gives me his mouth, and sigh with closed eyes as he drags his lips down my face, to my throat. Suddenly he bites, hard, and I grab onto him, my knees knocking int the sides of his body. I must be hurting him the way I grab and scratch, but he only digs those teeth in deeper until he finally lets go and slams his hand against my throat.
“I once beat a hooker with a brick,” he says with a grin, pressing down harder. He drives the fingers of his other hand into my cunt, the thumb dragging along my clit. I fling my hands to my neck, desperately trying to pry him loose. “Ah, you like that, huh?” he says. He has about three fingers deep inside me, and even as I’m struggling against his chokehold, I’m bucking into his fingers. “You just about flooded yourself when I said that.” He gets close to my face, and I stare into his gritting teeth shining beneath a dark mustache. “It’s true. I had to teach her some respect.” He lets my throat go and I suck in air with a loud gasp. I lift my chest as he slides his fingers to my breast, and I close my eyes and start crying as he yanks on my nipple. So much pain for such a simple tug. I can feel my walls closing around his fingers and I gaze into his eyes, my lips trembling.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispers.
I open my legs in answer and lean my head back. When I try to grab his cock, though, he slaps my face and grabs my hand, twisting. I cry out from the jabbing pain in my wrist as he leans to grab my lips with his. He bites down on my bottom lip, as if to force me to relax. I’m certainly trying, but as he presses the head of his cock against my clit, I’m ready to explode.
He takes his mouth away and snarls in my ear, “Come on, you little hooker! Tell me what you want.”
“Fuck me!” I whine.
His chuckle is a rich, dark sound. My skin crawls.
“Why don’t you ask me nicely?” His voice is soft, but dangerous. I feel his thumb hooking around the curve of my neck, and I nearly panic. The music outside this room is so loud, everyone is drunk. He could kill me and walk out of here and no one would ask him anything.
“Please,” I moan, rubbing myself on him. “God, please, fuck me!”
“Hmmm, God? I like that,” he hisses in my ear, and then he bites down on the cartilage, making me yell out. “Has a nice ring to it.” I pant and give myself to him as he slides his pants down to his knees. Shoving my shoulder down, he pushes himself inside me. I scream, he’s pushing too hard, too fast, it’s not going in.
“Come on, I thought you wanted it,” he says. “You’re so wet.”
“Please, please, not so rough…”
He answers me with two more thrusts that rip my perineum and I scream and dig my fingers into his arms. Once it’s finally in, he takes his time, slowly sliding in and out, while rubbing my clit with one finger. “Not so rough? But that’s how you like it, right?” he says. I’m bucking against him, he’s going too slow. His finger teases me, and I’m barely breathing, but I want more.
“Harder!” I whisper.
He just grins and lifts my legs above my head on his shoulders and shoves himself inside me, pounding my cervix. It’s a terrible feeling, but I’m screaming for more, even with tears flowing down my reddened face. Every time he goes in, he finds the spot, he rams on past, he slams down on my shoulders. I can feel my muscles start to cramp, and my entire body is so tense, so I relax. I let him use me. I’m in another world entirely, just me and him, and the intensity he’s giving me. With every flash of pleasure he sends up my body, he gives me even more pain. He pounds into me so hard I’m just waiting for my pelvis to crack, but I’m so close already.
He leans down to my ear, and I flinch. “I’ll see you next time I come here, won’t I?”
I can only give him a guttural groan. I tense at the feeling of his hand gently caressing my neck.
“I’m sure I will. Maybe I’ll find you in the parking lot, just after closing. Maybe right in front of your car.” He slips his hands to the undersides of my knees and fucks me even harder than before. I’m weeping by now. I can feel it so close, it’s taking over my entire body, and yet, so much pain. Every time his cock slips in, it rubs against the flesh he ripped. My arms ache from where he held me, and I can still feel the bite on my neck. “Then I’ll drive you home when I’m done with you.”
I lost it. He follows the rhythm of my body and milks it out of me, all the while pressing his chest against mine, breathing in my ear, nibbling it. It’s like my life is draining from my body, and into his arms.
“My turn,” he says, grabbing my hair. He yanks me to my knees, while I flail around, and then pushes it in my mouth. “Just keep your mouth open, that’s it.” He slides it along my tongue for a while, slowly at first. I peer up at him. His hair is mussed, but damn it looks just fine like that. The flimsy reddish light darkens his hair and paints shadows along his bones, under the brow. His eyes are closed, his face set in perfect contentment. It makes me feel pretty good to give this to him. When he looks down at me, his lips curls up slightly, and I close my mouth around his cock. he strokes my hair while I pleasure him. He starts pumping harder into my mouth, I just open my mouth and let him in. His fingers tighten on my scalp and a soft whine escapes as he comes, and some of it dribbles down the sides of my mouth.
He then stands me up and wipes my mouth hard with his sleeve before taking my lips into his own. His tongue sweeps up what’s left of his own come and we are both swallowing it. I’m light and pliant in his arms, against the wall, a breast in his hand, my hip pressing against the other hand. He holds my head for a second, that smirk I already know so well as his parting shot to me. I’m still leaning against the wall long after he leaves the room, already both dreading and longing for tomorrow night.
He was furious with me for being such a brat….. for behaving poorly and not caring if my antics hurt him or not. He was tired of my being selfish and difficult….. So as the door slammed hard, I quickly turned to see him
standing there, already unbuttoning his pants. My heart began pounding in my ears. The sickening (and yes, exciting…) “thwick” as his belt leaves the loops…. His face tells me this beating will leave marks….. his eyes flash with barely-controlled rage. I realize that I’m caught between the bed and the wall…. my only escape is to flee over the bed or turn and fight him off. Daddy is a wall himself, I’d never even make a dent. So I turn back and begin scampering across the big bed (fuck, WHY is it SO big??) – but before I’m even halfway across, I feel a hand clamp around my ankle and yank me back. A hard, stinging slap lands on my pajama-covered ass, followed by seven more in very quick succession. Fear begins to well up in my chest as tears spring already to my eyes.
“You are not going ANYWHERE. You deserve what you get….. you asked for this,” he growls in my ear, his deep voice almost shaking with anger. Not one to be quietly subdued, my fight or flight instinct once again takes over and I begin to violently thrash in an attempt to get away from him. A low, angry growl escapes his throat as he pulls me half off the bed, trapping one arm quite painfully behind my back, and my legs down with one of his. I am hopelessly pinned. A prisoner. DAMN his Army training!
“You’re only making it worse for yourself, Little One,” he says, his voice like ice – and for an instant, I believe he wants me to make it harder on myself!
With deft hands, Daddy begins yanking clothes off me, leaving only my tank top. I suddenly feel the cold air from the bedroom fan as it breathes across my newly bared ass cheeks, and I feel a slight twitch in my pussy as I hear Daddy suck in his breath as he sees my almost naked body. His hand tightens on my wrist as if angrier at me for having to be turned on at my nakedness. His thighs are like warm steel holding me firmly over the bed.
“Of course I never expected you to lie still and take it – but you’ve earned yourself extra for being such a bitch.” My breath catches in my throat… a bitch? I don’t know that I’ve ever seen Daddy so angry. His voice gets more clinical and cold with each word – and that scares me more than anything. And excites me, too. I meet his Vulcan demeanor with pure teenage determination. I say nothing.
In answer to my silence, I hear him fumble with his belt, looping it up double and checking his grip on the ends. My blood turns to ice water, but I still refuse to say a word. I will NOT give him the satisfaction! My body betrays me, though, by beginning to tremble ever so slightly. And a further betrayal – growing excitement. The thought of Daddy whipping me, looking at my naked body, even his rage – all brings about a highly erotic state for me. I feel tingles in my pussy, knowing that it’s beginning to drip… and my nipples strain against the cotton of my tank top. What is happening to me?
Before I can begin to reason it out, however, I feel Daddy swing his arm up, and with a low, animalistic growl in his throat, he brings the belt back down on my young flesh. Pain races through my body like wildfire, and I scream out in spite of myself. “Aaaahhhhh, NO, DADDY! That HURTS! Stop!!” He acts as though he hasn’t heard, however, and a second – even HARDER, if that’s possible? – blow lands across the middle of my ass cheeks. The pain is absolutely unbearable… yet my nipples ache against my shirt, and I can already feel juices seeping down my thigh. My confused mind is at war with my body.
A third violent strike lands across the tops of my thighs, and I manage to squirm slightly away from his grasp, now that we’re both sweating a bit.
“You stay right where you are,” an almost unfamiliar voice growls in my ear, and a firmer grasp puts me back in place. “That’s another two for you.” Daddy’s words fly by me unnoticed, however, because I am transfixed by the hardness I feel against my thigh. I feel dizzy with the implications of his arousal – arousal at beating his one and only daughter. Or is it from seeing me naked? I am bombarded by thoughts and questions…
In rapid succession, three vicious blows fall on my already crimson ass and upper thighs, leaving nasty welts in their wake. I feel bruised and swollen. Gutteral sounds slip from Daddy’s throat as the rage pours from him – feeding on itself, rather than abating. I hear deafening screams and sobs, and only after a few moments do I realize that those raspy sounds are coming from my own throat! I struggle, but only enough to feel as though I’m not simply lying down and taking it – not enough to earn me a longer strapping. My heart threatens to rip out of my chest, and the sheets under me become soaked with my tears. Yet through all this… my pussy continues to throb, juice positively flowing down my legs and onto the side of the bed. I panic that he will be able to see… that he will know I’m a slut. Surely that would lengthen this hell?
“I hate you!” The words fly in a cry unbidden from my mouth, and panic surges anew, turning my skin to ice. I am truly afraid, yet a new emotion begins to emerge – a rage of my own. A new emotion smoldering in my belly like an infant, suckling at my embarrassment and fear.
I feel a cruel hand twist itself up in my hair and yank my head back, threatening to tear my head off. I scream and reach back to grip your arm, trying to free myself, in vain of course. You are surely possessed… your voice travels like little fingers to my pussy – stroking it, caressing it – ending all reason and sanity. “Good,” you growl, sounding so much like the wolves you prize. “That will make me enjoy this so much more.”
As if to emphasize your point, you wind up and deliver another two blows to my welted and blistered body, and before I know what’s happening, a low moan escapes my throat. You freeze, arm high in the air about to deliver another. I can almost hear the cranks in your head turning, reasoning out what you just heard. Within seconds you come back to yourself and bring that belt down, harder than the rest.
“From now on,” you spit at me, “you WILL think of someone other than yourself!” Two more blows, accompanied by guttural moans from you, end the tirade, and you finally let go of me. Eleven straps with your leather belt – and I vow silently to make you pay for each and every one. For every bruise, every welt. At this moment, I truly hate you… and hate myself for feeling so alive and aroused.
You stand there panting, waiting for my reaction. Slowly I peel myself off the bed, a mess of sweat, welts, bruises, a little blood – and completely soaked between my thighs, although I’m not sure you are aware of that. Slowly I turn to face you, and you blink in surprise at the rage barely contained on my tear-stained face. If submissive obedience and chagrin is what you expected, you are sorely disappointed. I straighten myself up, sticking my chin in the air. My voice drawls out in a hateful hiss – like water on hot coals. “Don’t you ever hit me again.” You can see that I’m trembling. With rage? Fear? Embarrassment? Or… something else? And then, in an irony that eludes only brave teenagers, I wind up and slap you across the face as hard as I possibly can. Which, for your daughter, is rather hard – sufficiently shocking you for a moment.
At that moment I realize my mistake, and turn tail to run as quickly as my shaky legs will carry me. I manage to get as far as the hallway before I hear you roar with fury and give chase. Panic springs in my chest and I run faster, but I only make it to the end of the hallway before you reach me – grabbing my hair and yanking me backwards into your broad chest. I scream. You don’t even notice… you don’t say a word as you slam me to the floor, knocking the wind out of my lungs. I look up helplessly as you throw all of your weight on top of me, pinning me to the cold wooden floor.
“That was a mistake, bitch – one that you will regret.” I see no trace of my loving Daddy in you now – only anger. Your eyes flash with the insanity of violence and the desire to inflict pain. In moments you have rid yourself of your boxers and T-shirt, and with quick yank – my tank top is ripped from my body. Your knees thud down between my legs, separating them, and as I struggle to regain my wits, you snarl as you look down at my naked, aroused body. Your eyes rake over me, taking in my painfully hard nipples, the sweat covering my skin, and the slickness covering my thighs. Bringing your eyes back to mine, your face slides into a sickening grin.
“Would you like to be my whore? Daddy’s whore?” Painfully, cruelly, you twist one nipple – and then the other. Alarm bells race through my body, causing me to struggle desperately against my bonds, which only enrages you further. With a snarl, you slap me – HARD! – not once, not twice, but three times across the face, scrambling my wits. I immediately feel the swelling begin – in my face, and further in my pussy. In my fear, all I can do is glare back at you.
Taking both my small hands in one of yours, you reach down to rip my thighs open, pulling my body closer to you. I know what is coming, and I am ashamed to feel my hips arching up to meet you. With one quick thrust, you push your thick, hard cock deep into my pussy – throwing your head back and crying out as you feel my hot, wet flesh close around it. Immediately you begin pounding into my young pussy, desperate to sate this lust.
“You bastard!” I’m barely able to spit out, in between guttural moans and choking sobs. “You bastard, how could you?” Yet my body betrays me yet again by matching your thrusts, wanting more. Needing more!
“Shut up, bitch – you begged for this. You fucking whore.” You fuck harder, deeper, trying to punish me. I only moan louder. In your mind, you see all the skimpy outfits I paraded around the house in… the boys I made out with downstairs or on the front porch… the time you watched through the crack of my door as I brought myself to climax with my glass dildo. And you punish my cunt for every thought.
It seems to go on for hours… being split open by my Daddy’s cruel thrusts, and cumming shamelessly all over his throbbing dick, coating it with my juices. Suddenly you begin to fuck faster, growling deep in your throat, gripping me painfully.
A desperate thought comes to mind and I push up almost to my elbows. “Don’t you DARE cum inside me, you fuck!” My voice is raspy and shrill with panic. I’m already close to another orgasm…
You slap me again, wait for me to register the shock, and then once more. My pussy twitches at the sheer enjoyment on your face. You are a sick man! Your breath comes in ragged bursts, and you lean down to growl in my ear, “I will cum in you, slut… and you will carry my seed in your belly.” My blood freezes.
And with a final thrust and howl, you explode deep in my pussy, causing a last orgasm to arch my back. We lay there for long moments, panting, sweating, trying to come back to our senses.
I saw him as soon as I entered Sydny’s Sly Fox the bar. Leaning against the bar wearing only cut-offs and a denim vest that advertised his pecs and abs, leaving his pierced nipples to wink out at the world, just begging to be sucked and bitten. Made my mouth water! Made my own pierced tits tingle, wanting him to pay attention to them. The shorts left nothing to my imagination, tight enough to show his gorgeous cock, short enough that its giant head hung out, dangling and throbbing as he eyed me checking him out. With his huge meat-hook of a right hand, he reached down to give it a squeeze, pumping out a stream of precum that looked so appetizing I could almost taste it. Drawn to him as if by a magnet, I found my left hand caressing that monster mushroom-shaped cock head, getting a fistful of precum that I sucked into my mouth (damn! It was so sweet my head began to swim!!), while my right made its way over his six-pack abs to his left nipple, teasing the nub while I vibrated the big ring dangling from it. As it does mine, this made his dick start to jump and twitch and my left hand went back to catch more precum. He opened his mouth and I shared his clear juice with him. As he licked his lips, I whispered, “Fuck me. Please?”
He nodded towards a door at the end of the bar, and we made our way into the storeroom. He closed the door behind him, but made no move to lock it – not that I cared, at that point! I just wanted his cock and I didn’t care who watched or who knew. I dropped to my knees and undid his belt. Pulling down his zipper, I freed that beautiful hunk of man-meat as his shorts fell to the floor. As he kicked them out of the way I wrapped my lips around his dick, locking my teeth behind the corona while I sucked on the head and tongue-fucked his piss-slit. Jesus, this dick tasted so good I thought I was gonna die!! As more of his delicious precum flowed into my mouth I began to suck him off like the cum-slut cock whore I really am. By the time I’d taken it all into my throat the third time, his dick was so hard a cat couldn’t scratch it! I grabbed his huge nuts and started milking his sac, feeling those balls of iron play in my hand like giant ben-wa balls. As he growled and wrapped his fingers in my hair, I again swallowed his dick into my throat, feeling his pubes tickle my nose while his odor of piss, cum and ball sweat filled my nostrils and made me drunk with my need for his cum. I moaned and groaned from the sheer pleasure of sucking this gorgeous cock, and every sound I made seemed to urge him on – he started fucking my mouth hard and deep and fast, growling and cussing with every thrust, “That’s right cocksucker! Suck my dick, boy! Make me cum, you hear me, you old queer!! Fuck yes, oh fuck yeah! Oh shit man, here it cums you queer motherfucker! Oh fuck, oh fuck, ooohhhhh!!! Fuck me, here it is!!!” And his dick spat the greatest load of cum I’ve ever tasted into my mouth and right down my throat – spurt after spurt, great gobs of delicious cum, mine, all mine.
With my mouth now satisfied, I realized just how horny my ass was, so, without releasing his dick from my mouth, I undid my own shorts and pulled them down, then turned my ass to him and, reaching back, spread my asshole in anticipation of getting the fucking I needed so bad. I felt him rub his dick in my ass crack, lubing it with my saliva and his cum, along with the precum that was already starting to flow from his dick again. Oh, Jesus, I wanted his cock in my ass so bad!!! I felt that big mushroom pressing into me and my sphincter responded so quickly and so entirely that he practically fell into me. I was so horny I didn’t need any time to get used to him inside me. He was in me and it felt so-o-o fucking good. And next he was pumping me deep, and hard, and then faster and deeper, and I was wailing like a banshee. I heard the storeroom door open and voices cheering us on as we fucked like tigers! He was panting with the exertion of fucking me, and I was moaning and groaning, again, as he gave it to me so hard. Oh my fucking God! What a great fuck he gave me!! I don’t know how many times he pulled completely out of me, only to plunge back in, all the way to the hilt, his balls slapping against mine, then back all the way out, and again all the way in , up to his balls, in and out, hard, and fast, and harder and faster, fucking, fucking my ass, so deep, so hard – fuck man, I never wanted it to end! But even a stud like this can only fuck so long before he has to shoot his load, and with a bellow like a raging bull he plowed deep into me, his cock buried all the way up my starving ass, and I felt his load coat my ass walls as his cock jumped and throbbed inside me. After all the cum he shot down my throat, he still had enough left to completely paint the inside of my gut white with cum.
Curiously, I was still so horny I was practically insane with lust. Looking now at the group who had gathered to watch and cheer, I said, “Who’s next?” It may not surprise you to hear I got roundly and soundly fucked that night. It’s so good to be a whore.
She had grown comfortable and safe within her environment. The cinderblock walls around her and the bars of the cage that contained her were now her home. Early on she used to keep track of the days by the sounds of the steps overhead and the long intermittent silences in between. She knew that a series of two of those silences would occur between his visits. That must be a day she thought. She had come to understand the silences were likely the time he was either sleeping or gone from the house, probably at work.
Really, she lost track a long time ago but instinctively she knew when the time was drawing near for him to come to her. In the time between visits she would nestle herself in the cage he kept her in. In the beginning, she would fight it, desperately trying to find a way out. It was futile. No amount of yelling, screaming, pounding on the bars, nor yanking on the lock would prove to be successful. Eventually, she grew tired and gave in to the inevitable. She was stuck, captured, possessed. Convincingly she told herself it wasn’t so bad. She was fed enough to be comfortable and the room, although it had no windows was warm. Considering the lack of sufficient clothing she was thankful for the warmth.
At times it was quite difficult to wait for him to come and allow her to visit the ensuite bathroom. Early on there were times, only a few, that she could not wait. The ensuing punishment for such mishaps taught her quickly to learn how to make sure she could wait….no matter how long. She learned to simply keep her back to the room while she lay in her cage so as not to see the ensuite, so close and yet so inaccessible without his allowance of its use. The bathroom thing was what made her wonder the most just how long she had been staying down here or was it up here; she had no idea. Just how long had it taken for her to train her body to deny itself of such natural functions. It didn’t matter anymore. It had been long enough for her to realize that. That and the reward of a shower for being able to hang on, as opposed to the denial of one if she hadn’t. It no longer amused her how now the little things mean so much to her….a a shower, the use of a toilet, the touch of another human being.
She could sense the time was here. He would come to her very soon. Oh how she looked forward to those moments. In the beginning, her heart would pound with sheer panic when she heard the clank of the locks opening behind the door. Her heart would still beat harder in those moments now but more in anticipation. She heard the familiar sound now and the slightest of smiles graced her lips.
“Hello my pet,” he pleasantly cooed as he walked through the door, ’how’s my girl today?’ Why he asked amused her in away. He knew she gave up speech and language a long time ago. Perhaps she simply forgot he figured, although she always seemed to understand what he’d say. Her communication now days consisted simply of various grunts, groans, purrs and the like….and of course, the sobs and screams that were inevitable at his hands. Long ago she gave up wondering why he did the things he did to her. She just knew to accept them. A part of her grew to enjoy it; it was the only attention she received. He knew this and teased her often.
“Oh, come on now girl, why the tears? You know you like it, don’t try to pretend differently. Your body tells me so,” he’d quip. “As long as your body keeps betraying you like that my little pet, I promise to keep giving you what you obviously want.” And with that he’d always chuckle to himself, amused by his own joke.
Today was a good day. She was happy to see him and he could tell by the way she sat up when he walked in; up as much as one could in that cage. He never stopped admiring his handy work. The hard work and effort he’d put into building that thing, just for her, was evident to him each and every time he ran his hands over it….and she always watched. She watched his every move, always. She had become, over time, fixated on him. He was her entire world and that was exactly what he wanted. Sometimes he was certain that he could almost hear her purr as he slowly sauntered around her cage, chattering away to her but mostly to himself. He often wished he had noticed the day she said her last word so that he could have marked it on a calendar. Once in a while, when she would make one of those sweet little murmuring sounds while she fixed her gaze on him, he’d get a slight tingle through his body. In those moments he sort of missed the sound of her voice. Then he would remember back to some of the vile things she uses to spit at him. Her rage with him had run deep, very deep. Those were the early days though and for the most part he didn’t miss them. As much as he longed for the sound of her words he didn’t miss having to punish her for such terrible disrespect of him. He truly didn’t enjoy it at all. It wasn’t like the other stuff. “Now that stuff, that stuff is fun,” he thinks with a grin.
He’d continue talking to her as he walked away venturing into the ensuite to run the shower for her. He looked after his pet well.
Once the water was on and the towels laid out he’d come back and unlock her cage. It really was a work of art and very comfortable too. No barbaric dog cages for his pet, nothing but the best and he was very proud of it and of himself and in fact, also of her. She had learned to behave whilst he went about unlocking her from the cage, no more half-crazed, wild ambush attacks in an attempt for freedom. Secretly he was very impressed at how long it took to untrain her of this nasty habit of fighting back. Her strength and determination had always impressed him even as it frustrated him. Oh how he hated having to punish her like that. Never in his entire life had he ever heard another human being screech such unhumanly sounds like the ones she made when he had to teach her a lesson. She’d never know it but he would often break out into tears of his own once back upstairs and alone. He really did feel badly but it had to be done. She needed to learn, to conform, to submit to his will. And learn she did.
But that was a long time ago, so long ago. She was such a good little thing now. He was as pleased with her progress as he was with his own patience.
“Come now,” he called to her, “come clean yourself up and do your business you filthy thing you”. She would always grunt in embarrassment when he said such things. He remembered how proud she was before he claimed her. Always primped and made up. No need for such things now, no one to impress but him and to him she was beautiful as she was because she was his. He just enjoyed teasing her.
It was odd how he always gave her privacy in those moments. Very odd considering some of the vile, humiliating things he always had planned for his visits. She had given up on modesty far too long ago to even remember it existed. She had grown to accept that he knew every physical fiber of her being so there was no point in trying to pretend otherwise. Besides, with no mirrors she had no idea what she looked like anymore anyway. How she appeared relied solely on what he said. If he said she was ugly and shameful looking she believed it and sulked accordingly. When he said she was pretty, beautiful even, she postured with pride. When he was pleased with her so to was she.
Upon exiting the ensuite she never knew what to expect. The unknowing would always make her shake a little with both fear and excitement. That and the fact she knew she would eat if she complied easily, had made her a most willing victim. The exhaustion of fighting back from the torture and the ensuing, seemingly endless amount of time without food or water, had taught her that to resist was pointless. Some may have felt it not worth surviving in such an environment but she had learned it was her life now, her world was his world; his fantasies her reality.
When she came out she could see the room laid out, preparations made for the coming endorsements. He always had a plan. Her only plan was to comply, do as told and all would be ok. She knew that somehow he would never quite go too far even though it always seemed like this time would be the time it would be just a little too much to bear.
Some rituals, like the showering beforehand, never changed. She stood there, clean bodied and wet haired and obediently waited for him to come to her…and come to her he did. As always, he walked toward her stopping only when he was a mere inches from her face. Then, as always, as she tipped her head up to gaze into his eyes, his hand would glide up and reach gently into her hair and rest at the nap of her neck. The sweet, gentle kiss would always follow. She would dream often of that kiss, the silken feel of his lips to hers, his warm breath fanning out over her face as his tongue would slip between her parted lips. Somewhere in that moment is when he always startled her blissful state with a stark, violent jerk of her head as his hand forcefully gripped her wet hair and his chuckle would turn to a menacing growl.
“BITCH…. my lovely bitch,” he snarled as he dragged her, by her hair, across the room. “Come along we have work to do, lots of time for that later,” he’d say with a laugh, a frightening, spine-tingling laugh.
She knew if she could just get through it he’d look after her; lovingly hold her and tend to her wounds once he was done inflicting them. She could sense that this time would be one of those really difficult, long lasting times and it worried her but she would get through. She would look at him with pleading eyes and pray that he would show her some mercy….she knew he would not. But she knew that after, he would allow her to curl up into him and he would stroke her hair as he mused about anything that came to mind. She didn’t care, she didn’t listen…she simply hung on to the sound of his voice as she would fly and drift and stare at her cage. The lovely, comfy little safe haven where he would eventually toss her and sit across from it and admire her. She would be able to feel the contentment that matched the calming gaze he would bestow upon her but for now she would have to wait because first would come the pain, the tears, the blood, the fear, the……
