Sarah's Adventure

PROLOGUE

I was 18 when I had my first real taste of what it was like to be a submissive. Before then, I had experimented, mostly on my own, trying out little things here and there and experimenting some when I masturbated. I’d get my boyfriend to tie my wrists to the bedpost and spank me, but I could tell his heart was never really into it and I wanted more.

       After returning home one day after I had finished a heavy session of aerobics, I collapsed in a pile of sweat and exhaustion on my bed. Too tired to sleep and too exhausted to do anything else, I did what came naturally, and started rubbing myself between my legs with my fingers.

      

       ”God I’m horny!" I said rolling onto my side and rubbing a little harder. I then sat up with a gleam in my eye and made my way toward my dresser and pulled out several special handcuffs I had recently bought, a cloth gag, a large, black vibrator, and several other items before settling down back on the bed.

      

       "God, what at a bod" I hissed, slapping my ass and talking as though I were someone else, someone who was in control, someone who was crude, primal and dangerous. "You need a good FUCK!" I continued groping my breasts.

      

       Jumping up on my knees, I cuffed my feet, then inserted the large plaything, which took a few erotically, agonizing minutes. I pulled a G- String up and into place, covering the toy and preventing it from escaping. I then then picked up a leather belt with several rings orbiting the outside and affixed it around my waist. Picking up the gag, I placed it over my mouth and tightened it around my head with more straps. The gag was a specialty item that was made from a soft cloth pad attached to a firm, leather backing and held in place by straps. The pad snugly covered my mouth and muffled even the loudest screams. I preferred this kind of gagging over a ball gag, which made me drool and made my jaw tired.

      

       After gagging myself, I cuffed my hands behind my back and to the ring on the back of the belt. I was now completely restrained and felt absolutely wonderful. With a dexterous click, I pressed the play button and lay back as the low hum of the vibrator began to build.

      

       My naked, bound body surged and rolled about slowly as my mind raced with fantasies, sending waves of erotic stimulation through me as the vibrator added to the tension, slowly building its vibrations like it was designed to. Each thing I thought of was more shocking and exhilarating than the next, dreams of being placed into helpless submission. I rolled about moaning and surging as my climax grew closer and closer...

      

       “MMMMMMmmmm!" I moaned under my gag and twisted around on the bed, still close but not quite ready yet to step over the edge to embrace the orgasm that was waiting. Reaching between my legs as best I could, I groped at the cord for the vibrator and fished the remote into my cuffed hands.

      

       "Maybe a little higher..." I moaned, then winced as the low vibrations made my sweat with building sensation.

      

       Suddenly, a never-before-felt-sensation of intense vibration shot through my pelvis, sending me bucking about in panic. Looking around so I could see the dial, I had accidently pegged it past the 10 mark. I normally enjoyed a heavy workout of 4. Bucking about on the bed and groaning from the now intense vibrations coming from between my legs, I went hog wild for an instant and the remote flew from my grasp to crash to the floor. It was now on its full 120 volt setting.

      

       My hips rolled slowly and erotically as the toy drove me closer toward a now unwanted and uncontrollable climax. "Got to gett... itttt…. ouutttt," I thought trying to hold back the flood. Soon I was frantically twisting about, struggling as the sensation from the vibrator began to overwhelm me and an instant later, I screamed uncontrollably as my climax nearly tore me apart.

      

       My hips shot upward, pushing the mattress and box spring nearly off their frame and me to the floor. I rolled about on the heavy, double bed until it was a mess of blankets, pillows and stuffed toys. Being multi-orgasmic, I continued to violently pound my hips about as wave after wave forced me down again and again and panic filled my desperate mind as I knew too many climaxes like this would certainly dominate her.

      

       It was some time later before I was able to roll off the bed to the floor, and another little while after that until I could find the keys to the cuffs and get out of my self-imposed bondage.

      

       Dazed, I staggered rom my bedroom some time later, clutching my pelvis just below my stomach and holding my head. It had been nearly two agonizing hours since I first knelt down on the bed and then spent the rest of the time almost helpless as the vibrator continued its relentless work. My only saving grace was the fact the toy was not designed to run at such a voltage and its poor internal workings had finally seized.

      

       No worse for wear though, I was a little "damaged" by the experience. At some point during the ordeal, the toy and the bondage had been too much and I had succumbed to its effects.  The constant climaxes had pushed me over the edge, beyond my ability to cope or resist, and I was dominated for a time. I staggered about afterwards, my mouth hanging open and my eyes glazed over with a veil of haziness as I sauntered slowly into the living room. I dropped to my knees, unable to comprehend or care about anything. At that point I would have obeyed anyone without question, performed any act, allowed anything to happen to me. I collapsed utterly defeated.

       An hour later, the oppressive sensation had lifted and I returned to the bedroom. "Can't ever let that happen again," I mumbled as I clutched my head. "I can't believe I lost to a vibrator," I winced as I picked up the now broken plastic toy, throwing it in the bin.

Chapter 1

I was 19 when it all began, and it started with an ad in the newspaper, which read: “Obedient live-in maid wanted to service the needs of upper class lady”.  It was a time in life when I was still experimenting with things sexually, and I could read between the lines and understood what the subtext of the ad was really looking for. It other words, it was another way of saying “Mistress searching for a slave” but without really coming out to say it. Besides whatever else the actual job would entail, I had just started university so I could have used the money, and I was pretty open sexually so as nervous as I was dialling the number, I was also kind of excited too.

       

       “Hello,” a lady answered.  “Yes, my name is Sarah and I’m calling in reference to your job opening for a maid...  Is it still available?” I asked nervously.  “Yes, it is.  Do you understand the key to this job is obedience?” the lady asked.  “Yes ma’am, I understand. I have always been a very obedient worker and would love to work as your maid.”

       It was a brief conversation, but we both knew what the other was talking about, again without having to say it, and we were on the same page as it were.

       “Briefly describe yourself to me,” the lady asked. 

       “You mean my employment history?” I questioned. 

      

       “No my dear, what do you look like.”

       “Oh, well, honestly, I’m only 19, but I really need this job and I’ll work real hard and do exactly as you say...” I rambled nervously, fearing my age would bring an end to the interview. 

       “Calm down my dear, 19 is nice.  Yes, actually, 19 is very nice.  Go on my dear, tell me more.”

       “Well, I have long brown hair, I’m 5 foot 9 inches tall, and I weigh about 130 pounds.  All my friends say I’m very pretty and...” 

       “O.K. my dear,” the lady cut in.  “I think I’d like to see you in person. When are you available?” 

      

       “Right now!” I said eagerly. 

      

       “Very well, be here within the hour,” the lady instructed, giving me the directions to her home.   I hung-up the phone and let out a hushed yelp of excitement.

       I soon arrived at the ladies’ luxurious apartment in the heart of downtown and rang the doorbell.  After a brief time, the door opened. There in the doorway stood a tall, sexy, raven-haired lady in her mid to upper thirties wearing a short black silk robe.  Her hair was cut in a short high fashion style that really accentuated her pretty face.  She was a slender long-legged woman with a sleek hourglass figure.  Her sheer robe draped gently from her large firm breast to the belt tied around her thin waist, then down over her round shapely buttocks.

       “Come in my dear,” the woman said smiling with approval.  Stunned by the woman’s beauty, I nervously stepped into the room.  As I stood in the middle of the entry, the woman slowly walked around me visually inspecting every inch of my body. Although still relatively young, I was pretty well-developed by that point, and was met with re-assuring approval.

       “Yes, you are a pretty girl... and only 19... Yes, I think you’ll work out just fine. 

       “I won’t fail you,” I said earnestly.

       

       “So easy to promise,” she said. “You don’t know what a bitch I can be.”

       “Maybe I won’t mind finding out.” I said, not believe the words that had come out of my own mouth. What perverse impulse had inspired this impudent remark?

       Her answer was a laugh, full throated and deep. My pussy throbbed with yearning as she walked around me, taking in all of my curves. “If my instincts are correct, you are most definitely the right girl for the position.”

       The woman walked back in front of me.  Placing her finger under my chin, lifting my head slightly, she stared deep into my eyes.  “Are you willing to obey my every command – no matter how unusual it may be?”

       I looked up into her beautiful dark and hungry eyes and found myself very aroused by the woman’s gaze and her ultimate request. I paused briefly and wondered to myself what could this woman possibly request.  What would a `yes’ answer really mean for her.

       “Yes ma’am, I will obey your wishes and I will do anything you request of me,” I responded in a very subservient voice.

       “Very, very good, my dear.  I think you will work out quite well.”

       The “interview” went on for quite some time after that, as we proceeded into the dining room and she asked me “the other kind of questions”.

       “So – how long have you been a sexual submissive?”

       There it was – so bluntly stated, the plain fact that she had been so quick to recognize. This was no time to deny anything. An honest question must be honestly answered. I grinned shyly.

       “All my life, I think.”

       She laughed at that. “Well, I was born to be a bitch, so I guess that we are a matched pair.”

       It was an oddly intimate moment, an exchange of confidences between two women.

       “Have you submitted to others?”

       I shrugged. “My boyfriend in high school spanked me a couple of times, but his heart was never really in it.”

       “You’re not a virgin then.”

       “No.”

       “Have you sucked cock?”

       It was the second phased of the job interview, I realized. She was asking me to list my qualifications, and the thought of refusing to answer never entered my mind.

       “Yes.”

       “Did you just nibble on the tip, or take him to the hilt?”

       “All of it,” I tossed my hair saucily. She wasn’t going to rattle me. “I enjoyed swallowing every inch.”

       “Did you swallow his cum as well?” She was smiling like a kitten full of milk.

       “Yes,” I replied, and by that time the juice running out of my puss was starting to tickle. “I swallowed every drop.”

       “And?”

       This caught me off-guard, but only for a moment as I realized what more she wanted. “I sucked every last drop of his cum and smiled while I did it, and asked him for more afterward.” She wanted me to play the harlot for her, and I would do my best.

       “Have you ever been fucked up the ass?”

       A sudden chill passed over me. Part of it was the fact that anal intercourse was the one subject I had not been prepared to discuss. Some secret pleasures are too vile to admit. The other part of it was a sudden suspicion that this was not a casual question, mean to season the stew of confession. She really wanted to know.

       I could feel my sphincter instinctively contract.

       “No. Well – not with a – you know, a real…”

       And there it was, the topic I had be so dreading but at the same time the most excited about, and she drilled me for the next several minutes, finding out exactly what I had done up to that point, with regards to my bum.

       “Did you like having those fingers wriggling around inside you?” Having found a subject that made me uneasy, and wet between the legs at the same time, she was determined to explore it.

       I took a deep breath. I sensed that this interview could represent a turning point in my life. I didn’t want to blow it by refusing to be candid, and so I was. She nodded her approval at my answers, and pondered the information while she broke a piece of muffin off and held it out to me. I needed no command, and knew instinctively that it would be improper for me to simply reach out and take it in my hand. I dropped to all fours instead, and crawled to her. I knelt between her legs and opened my mouth.

       “An anal virgin then,” she mused. “Interesting. Now I want you to listen. I knew who you were the first time I heard your voice, and you confirmed it when you arrived at my door. You’ve got this sweet and sour quality about you that is positively delicious. You’re a demure little slut, excellent raw material. You were drawn to me like a moth to a flame, but let’s cut the bullshit shall we? I want to be clear,” she continued. “I am an experience player and you are not. The game I propose is no game for sisses. It’s serious, like professional sports of high stakes poker. There are rituals to be observed, tests to be passed, and levels of play. As your skill increases, the game becomes more difficult. There are risks, but all worthwhile activities carry risk. I will take every precaution to protect your physical health, but there are dangers to your psyche. You could become too involved and lose your identity, growing dependent, unable to function anymore in the real world. You might become reckless and ignore warning signs of trauma.”

       “I’m not afraid,” I said.

       “Not now,” she agreed. “but later on you may battle panic. You will have one choice available to you – stay or go. You are free to leave anytime, but if you stay, you follow my rules.”

       “I understand, Mrs. Lucy.” I wanted to ask what the rules were, but I knew that she would tell me when the time was right. Right now, I wanted her to know that I was willing to bear whatever burdens she requires, if only I could be near her.

       “What I propose,” she said, sipping her tea and breaking off another piece of muffin for me. ‘is a program of systematic humiliation and corporeal punishment. The severity of your trials will increase, and when you think that your powers of endurance have reached their limits, I will be there to coax you a little farther. At time you will be struck with a sense of the absurd, sometimes you will wallow in self-pity. You must banish these feeling and trust me to know what is best for you. I will be strict, the rules will be arbitrary, and the penalties for breaking them will be severe. You will surrender all right and privileges, you will be a toy that I play with, and I like to play rough.”

       And so it continued for the next little while, her explaining to me in broad strokes what would be involved, what would be entailed and what things would be like, and I swear I was sitting in a puddle of my own juices by the time she stood up.

       “I will take a shower now,” she said. “use this time to consider your choices carefully. If I find you here when I return, it will be because you want to and I will assume that you have accepted my propositions and treat you accordingly. Have another cup of tea and think it over. To help you with your decision, I will remind you that I haven’t forgotten your impudence earlier, and I don’t intend to forgive it.”

       She disappeared into the bathroom, and I poured myself another cup of tea with a shaking hand. This scene had, quite honestly, filled my dreams for years, but now that it was upon me, I didn’t know if I had the courage to seize the moment. Her promise that I could leave at any time heartened me. Had I been fooling myself for all these years with empty fantasies? Would I fail her in the end? I knew that I would never be free of my desires unless I played out this hand.

Chapter 2

When she returned some time later, my empty cup was back on the table and I was there

kneeling on the floor, my hands behind my head, knees wide, breasts sticking out, ass high, letting my body language announce my decision.

       “Horny little slut, aren’t you?” she commented. I could sense her standing over me. I didn’t dare look up.

       “Yes, Ms. Lucy,” I whispered, unable to trust my voice. Truth was, I felt a little cheated by the whole thing. I had wanted her to make stay and do it, not offer me a way out or give me a choice.

      

       “Call me 'Mistress', or ‘Ma’am, unless I tell you otherwise.  Do you understand?" the woman questioned. 

      

       "Yes Mistress, I do," I replied. How natural the title sounded. It came easily, a reverent susurrus, a mantra.

      

       “Good,” she commented as she took a seat. “Now strip for me. I want to see you.”

       Okay – I wasn’t too surprised. I knew that Mrs. Lucy would get around to it sooner or later, but I thought maybe she would choose a more private time and place, maybe work a little moonlight and roses seduction number. I didn’t expect her to have me peel down in the kitchen while she stood watching.

       There wasn’t much to take off and I was bare in a minute. Mrs. Lucy was a Braile reader I guess. She felt me all over, I mean everywhere; twisting my nipples and stroking a finger into my slit. (Yes, I was damp, if you must know,)

       “Turn around and spread your legs please.”

       I know. It was my time to say “Fuck you very much!” and gran my clothes that I had just folded nearly on the kitchen table, and get the hell out of there. I was curious though, swept along in a current, to abuse a cliché, and her finer had just plucked my clit like a guitar string. It was still thrumming.

       I turned around and spread my legs.

       “From now on, you must never cum without permission. You will obey all command without question, and accept all punishment without complaint.” Still behind me, I felt her bare toes tickling up and down between my legs, feeling the moisture pooling there. “You will strive to be accessible to me in all ways.”

       Her big toe moved up and poked at my anus.

       “Ah! That made you clench, didn’t it?”

       I didn’t say anything in reply. The question was rhetorical. She had divined the one thing I had found both frightening and fascinating. The one thing I had little to no experience with so far but yet but wanted to delve into, and I felt certain that she would exploit that discovery.

       Looking over my shoulder, I saw her take a tube of lubricant out of the pocket of her robe and knew what was coming. I thought about that tube, how she planned ahead for me, pocketing it before she sat down and waited for her little victim to fly into her web. I felt as thought I were in some X rated movie, and no one had given me a script.

       “Bend over.”

       I did, grabbing my ankles with both hands. She smeared my asshole with grease. I felt a finger spearing into me, clear to the knuckle. She wiggled it, finding nerves in there I never knew I had. She added another finger, stretching me and making it hurt. I tightened up.

       “Please!” I whined.

       Mrs. Lucy shushed my softly. There was something very intimate about having her reach into me like that, and I relaxed again, aware that her fingers were scissoring apart, opening me. I was squeaky clean inside, at least. I had seen to that a long time.

       “Stand up and turn around.”

       I lifted myself up and did as I was told.

       She smiled and poured herself another cup of tea. “Play with yourself.”

       “Now?” The command had been delivered so casually that I wasn’t sure I understood. Though our conversations up til now had been a clue that privacy was one of my luxuries I would now be doing without, it seemed insane that she would find entertainment watching me play with myself on demand

       She frowned. “Your hesitation had been noted. Yes, now!”

       I dropped my hand to my crotch and began to fondle myself. Self-consciousness made me temporarily numb, but in a few moments my body remembered the familiar sensations of pleasure as my fingers automatically stroked the most sensitive places. The knowledge that I was performing for her was an added stimulus.

       “Keep your eyes open,” she warned. “Play with your nipples as well.”

       I tweaked a nipple through my blouse, twisting it hard through the fabric. The though occurred to me that she was studying my technique to find out where my buttons were, so I was deliberately rough. In moments, I was panting and sweating. Ordinarily, my mind would be occupied by fantasies, but now I had no need of them. The reality of masturbating in front of this arrogant woman had more potency than anything I could imagine. Her eyes bore into mine. They were filled with cruel humour, but also something deeper and far more intrinsic that connected us. My eyes, I suspected, were glazed and unfocused.

       I began to quake – close, so close!

       “Stop,” she said.

       Reluctantly, I let the hand that was fondling my breast drop for an instant, but continued with the other down between my legs. I had heard her command, and in the second or two it took to really compute her request and to realize that the game had begun and I was now the slave and that I was supposed to stop, on some other level I couldn’t. Call me a rebel or even impudent, and maybe I was starting things off on a bad note, disobeying my first command and all – but this was as much of my own test as it was one form her. I wanted to see how far she was willing to go, or wanted to see just what such a punishment was for disobeying.

       And so I continued, playing as if I hadn’t heard the command, and much to my chagrin she didn’t repeat the request. At least if she had, I might have been able to feign innocence and afterwards say I hadn’t heard her, being too busy to concentrate and all, but she let me go. She was the master at this after all, and she knew the game and how to play it. It was a game of chess, and though I had made the first move, she was a pro at this and mere seconds later, I was quaking as an orgasm washed through me.

       

       "You are quite a performer, my dear.  I can see sexual desire isn't lacking in your little body.  I like that, it shows the signs of a true exhibitionist lurking deep inside," Lucy said as she waited for me to get down from my high. “But you did disobey me..”

       “I’m sorry, Mistress.” The apology was for the sake of form, of course. I had no illusions that she was about to pardon me. I had no desire to be pardoned either. Wasn’t that why I disobeyed in the first place? I was too turned on to resist the temptation, and curiosity alone would have provoked me to continue. I had to know if any reality could match the power of my dreams.

       “You will be,” she finally said.

Chapter 3

"Now understand this," said the woman in the same no-nonsense voice, "I'm going to spank you till you're raw.”

       I crawled to her, head down, ashamed to let her read the heat in my eyes, afraid that it would inspire her to treat me even more severely than she planned. I draped myself as gracefully as I could over her lap. In my fantasies, I had never considered the intimacy of this position. I would feel the warmth of her breath on my back, her hard thighs under my belly, her hand sliding up and down my cheeks and thighs, not to explore the territory but to tell me where the hurt would be.

       “Fingers and toes on the floor,” she murmured. “unless you want me to start over.”

       

       “Yes, Mistress,” I said, doing as I was told, realizing that she had just offered me a way to prolong the sessions if I wanted to, that I could double the number of blows, and probably increase their force, just by letting my hands obey a natural impulse.

       “Understand, I'm doing it for one reason only and that is so you'll be so sore that the touch of my fingernail will make you squeal and scurry to obey my commands. You'll stay raw like that every day this week, and you'll scamper to kiss my feet after I spank you, because if you don't, it will be worse. Do you understand?"

      

       She waited, one hand cradling a breast and the other hand on my hair.

       Very slowly, I nodded.

       "Very good," Lucy said softly.

      

       And then the first stroke fell, and she spanks me by hand. There’s a certain intimacy when flesh meets flesh. She can feel the skin yield and rebound, growing warmer with each ringing smack. At first, red handprints mark the spots where she strikes, branding me with her personal mark.

      

       My eyes had been heavy lidded and dreamy with the afterglow of arousal, now they flew wide open with shock. My ex-boyfriends’ love taps and half-hearted slaps had not prepared me for this fiery explosion of pain. My immediate instinct was to leap from her lap, clap my hands over my bum, and head for the nearest exit. Instead, I clutched the soft carpet, until I could control my voice enough to whimper, “Thank-you, Mistress.”

      

       Already, I was thinking frantically – how many? I hadn’t been told.

      

       “Don’t thank me yet, I’ll tell you when.”

      

       She struck again on the other cheek. I jerked and whined, but I was mindful of her waning, and kept my fingers and toes rooted to the floor. There was no way I could going to prolong this.

      

       She paused then, and rubbed my ass cheek with her hand. “Two red handprints on your bottom,” she observed. “My signature of ownership.”

      

       I might have retorted that she didn’t own me, of that the marks would be temporary, but a sudden flurry of smacks drove any rebellion out of my mind. “And for your earlier impudence,” she said, hitting the same spot over and over, while my whine rose in pitch and volume. When I was sure I could take no more, she switched to my other cheek and repeated the attack.

       The pain was more than I bargained for, but not any more than I could stand, and I told myself this was what I deserved for my impudence. I was a little curious too, there was a need in me to find out if submitting to a spanking would pay erotic dividends, or simply cure me of my unrealistic fantasies forever. It didn’t take long to find out, and soon my ass was a uniform shade of scarlet.

      

       As her hand continued to flail my buns, I felt a warmth growing in my loins. Some mental switch had been thrown, transforming pain and humiliation into lust, and I began to raise myself for her hand, offering myself for more. Even when it was over, and her hand finally stopped and I thanked her properly, my ass was still raised high in the air for more.

       “I’m glad you didn’t think that was going to be it,” she said, smacking me once more before  standing me up. She turned me and stretched me out on the length of the island counter in one swift motion, with my head towards the door. She scooped up my chin so that I could see the wooden paddle in her hand, and then she laid it against my buttocks, pressing gently on the reddened flesh and making my ass feel enormous and hot.

      

       I laid still, almost basking in the odd calm I settled into, as if the earlier excitement cleared everything -- even fear and trepidation – out of its path. Despite the pain in my buttocks, my pussy was unbelievably swollen and wet.

      

       "Now listen further," Mistress Lucy went on. "When this paddle comes down, you're going to move for me. You're going to twist and you're going to groan. You're not going to struggle to get away from me. You wouldn't do that. And you're not going to take your hands from the back of your neck. And you're not going to open your mouth either. But you're going to twist and groan. You're going to bounce under my paddle, in fact. Because with every blow you are going to show me how you feel it, and how you appreciate it, and how grateful you are for the punishment you're receiving, and how much you know it's what you deserve. And if that is not exactly what happens, well…"

       I was amazed. Never had anyone spoken to me quite like this, quite this coldly and simply, and yet it seemed to have behind it some awesome practicality that almost made me smile. The way she talked, she was so casual about it. Of course it was exactly what this woman should do, I reflected. Why not? I had disobeyed her after all.

      

       And of course she'd demand that I twist and groan to display my understanding that I was being humbled. She wasn’t going to tie me down for this. Instead, she wanted to see how eager I was to make amends.

      

       The odd sense of normality came back to me as I reasoned, for the moment anyway, that I would obey, and I would twist and groan.

       After all, it was going to hurt, wasn't it? Abruptly I found out.

       The paddle slammed me, bringing forth effortlessly the first loud moan. It was a large thin wooden paddle with an unnervingly crisp sound when it smacked again, and in the hail of blows that stung my sore buttocks, I found myself without a conscious decision suddenly writhing and crying, the tears springing freshly to my eyes. I was brave though, and it took two hits before I started yelping.

      

       The paddle seemed to be making me twist and turn, tossing me about on the counter, slamming my buttocks and making them rise again. I felt the counter creak under me as my hips rose and fell. I felt my nipples rub against the wood, yet I kept my tear-filled eyes on the open doorway, and lost as I was in the sound spanking of the paddle and the loud cries muffled by my sealed lips, I could not help but try to picture myself, wondering if Mistress Lucy were pleased with it, whether it was enough.

       I heard my own full-throated moaning in my ears. I felt her tears sliding down my cheeks, to the wood. My chin hurt as I rocked under the paddle, and I felt my long hair fall down around my shoulders, sheltering my face as I sobbed and begged.

       The paddle was really hurting now, almost unbearably, and I was rising high off the board as if asking with my whole body, "Isn't it enough, Mistress, isn't it enough?" Never in all life had I so profuse a display of misery. Now I was looking at another moment of truth, wondering if it was already too late to take my pride and clothed and excuse myself. Would it do any good to declare my rights? Could I say the whole thing was unfair?

      

       The paddle stopped. A soft torrent of sobs filled the sudden silence, and humbly, I squirmed against the counter as if imploring my Mistress. The paddle waved in front of my face. “Kiss it.” I puckered up, smelling warm leather and oil. “Thank me.”

      

       “Thank-you.” My voice was full or gravel.

       The paddle fell again, many times, hard.

      

       “Let’s try that again,” said Mrs. Lucy. “Try to sound sincere this time.”

      

       I kissed the paddle like I was in love with it. I said, “Thank-you, Mistress, for giving me the hard paddling I deserved!”

      

       “Good, you show promise,” she cooed. “Now quiet.”

      

       Then I felt her fingers playing up and down my slit. She slipped her index finger into my pussy and fucked me with it, then withdrew it and reached around me to press it against my lips. I opened my mouth for the finger and sucked it clean, tasting myself.

      

       I wanted to thank her again for the paddling, but I remembered her saying to be quiet, and I didn’t want to talk with my mouth full anyways and just moaned instead. This brought out a chuckle and she returned her hand to toy between my legs, adding her middle finger to the penetration. “My pussy,” she murmured, as her ring finger danced feather soft against my clit. I felt her thumb dip into my slit and gather moisture, then slide between my cheeks to slip into my anus. I stiffened.

      

       “Don’t resist me,” she cautioned. “Your ass is mine as well.” She wriggled her thumb inside me to emphasize the point.

      

       I tried to relax as her hand worked me, my ass red and raw, and felt myself riding towards orgasm again. “Permission to cum Mistress,” I finally moaned.

      

       “Permission granted,” she said, her thumb pressing deeper.

      

       It was all I needed. In moments, I was clawing the side of the counter with my fingers and arching into her hand as I was rocked by the most intense spasms I had ever experienced.

      

       I slumped across the counter, limp and spent, while she withdrew her hand and wiped it with a tissue.

      

       “Now that you are no longer distracted,” she said casually, reaching behind for something I couldn’t see. “I think that you will find the rest of your punishment salutary.”

      

       I was horrified! Until that moment, I had thought my ordeal was over, and had considered the paddling no more than a bit of rough foreplay. For the first time, I was facing the fact that gratifying my fantasies was not her goal here.

      

       My ass was already blazing, and I could no longer depend on the numbing effects of arousal to make the hurt bearable. When something brushed my sore buttocks very lightly, I let out a little cry behind my clenched teeth and my true chastisement would begin.

       "Very good," came the voice. "Now turn over."

       I rushed to comply, turning over as best and as easily I could on the counter, with my legs up and as wide apart as I could spread them, my whole body shuddering.

      

       It was the paddle I had expected, worse than before, but Mistress Lucy spread me out on my back, drawing my hands over my head, and quickly tying them to the edge of the island, telling me to keep my legs spread or have them spread for me.

       “I know that you disobeyed deliberately, just to provoke me. You wouldn’t think of asking me to be more severe, but you believe that you can manipulate me by breaking the rules a little. I know all of your tricks and games, my dear, and the nest time you are tempted to misbehave,” she promised, “you will remember this night.”

       I struggled to get my legs wide, and my body was being stretched to its full length as my ankles were now tied, and I felt panic again, bouncing helplessly on the smooth unyielding wood as I realized that I could not free myself.

      

       In a flurry of soft urgent cries I tried to plead with Mistress Lucy. But the moment I saw her smiling down at me, my voice died in my throat and I bit my lip hard, looking up into the clear black eyes that quivered ever so slightly with laughter.

       "I bet your boyfriend liked those breasts, didn't he?" Mistress Lucy said. I was a full c-cup, so he did indeed. And reaching with both hands, she pinched my nipples between thumb and forefinger. "Answer me!"

       "Yes, Mistress," I wailed, my soul quaking with the sense of my vulnerability to those fingers, the flesh around my nipples shrivelling as the nipples themselves hardened to knots. A deep pang between my legs caused me to try to close them, when that was quite impossible. You see, my nipples were like little activators, the juices flowing once they were played with. And te rougher they were pinched or twisted, the wetter I got. "Mistress, please, I will never--"

       "Shhhh!" Mistress Lucy clamped her hand over my mouth and I arched my back, sobbing against it. Oh, it was worse being bound; I could not make myself be still. But I stared at Mistress Lucy with wide eyes and tried to nod, though the hand held me firm.

"Slaves have no voice," she said, "until the Master or Mistress asks to hear that voice, and then you answer with the proper respect." She let go of my mouth.

       "Yes, Mistress," I answered.

      

       The firm fingers took hold of my nipples again, and my juices began flowing in earnest. "As I was saying," Mistress Lucy went on, "he must have liked these breasts."

       "Yes, Mistress!" I answered, my voice quavering.

      

       "And this avaricious little mouth." She reached down and pinched shut my pubic lips so that the moisture overflowed and I felt an itch as it trickled.

      

       "Yes, Mistress," I answered breathlessly.

      

       Mistress Lucy lifted a white leather belt and showed it to me, like a tongue extending from her hand. And gathering my left breast from the top in her left fingers, she bunched the flesh and plumped it as I felt the warmth suffusing my bosom. I couldn't keep quiet, and the moisture between my legs trickled down into the crack of my burning red buttocks. My spread-eagle body strained in vain to close itself.

       The fingers stretched my left nipple and snapped it. And then the white tongue of the leather belt spanked my breast in a series of hard loud slaps. "Oh!" I gasped aloud, unable to prevent it. The [addling that I had just received was nothing like this. The desire to break free and cover my breasts, both of them, was irresistible and impossible! Yet they seethed with feeling as never before and my body twisted against the wood. The little strap spanked the nipple and the bulging flesh harder and harder.

       I was in a frenzy as Mistress Lucy turned her attention to my right breast, plumping it in the same manner, snapping the nipple. My cries grew louder, my struggling more violent. The nipple was rock hard under the torrent of licks.

      

       I closed my mouth, sealed it shut. I would have screamed at the top of my lungs, "No, I can't bear it." The concentrated blows came faster and faster. My body became my tortured breasts, my desire fanned by the licks like a torch flame.

      

       I swung my head so violently that the hair streamed over my face. But Mistress Lucy lifted it back and she bent down and looked at me, but I could not look up at her.

"So tumultuous, so exposed!" she said to me, and she kneaded the right breast, pumping it up high again, and then continued to spank it. I gave a high keening cry against I clenched teeth. The fingers tweaked the nipples, massaged the flesh, and the heat roared through me, my hips thrust upwards in a sudden violent convulsion.

       "This is how a bad little girl should be punished," the Mistress said.

       "Yes, Mistress," I sobbed immediately.

      

       Mercifully the fingers were withdrawn. My breasts felt huge, heavy, a riot of warm pain and thumping sensation against me. My low, raw sighs caught in my throat.

       And I whimpered when I realized what was coming. I could feel Mistress Hobbe’s fingers between my legs again, pushing the lips apart even as I sought to close myself, the muscles in her my straining vainly. My heels thumped the wood, the leather straps pressing into the flesh of my insteps. Again I lost all control, struggling violently in a deluge of tears. But the licking strap was slapping my clitoris. I cried out again at the searing intensity of the mixture of pleasure and pain, my clitoris seeming to harden as never before, the strap snapping up at it over and over as Mistress Lucy swung from beneath the sex with her right hand.

       I could feel my lips puffing, the moisture squirting, the slaps sounding wetter and wetter. My head rolled on the wood; I cried louder and louder, my hips riding up to meet the strap, my whole sex a formless explosion of fire in me.

      

       The strap eventually stopped. It was worse, the heat rising, the tingling like an itch that must be scratched. My  breath came in short imploring pants in time with my moans, and through my tears I saw Mistress Lucy looking down at me.

       "Are you my impertinent slave?" she asked.

       "Your devoted slave," I choked through my tears, "Mistress. Your devoted slave." And I bit her lip, grimacing, praying it was the right answer.

      

       My breasts and my sex were boiling with the heat, and I heard my hips spanking the wood beneath them, though I had no awareness of moving them. Through the mist of tears I saw my Mistress's pretty black eyes, the black hair with its fancy little braid over the crown of the head, and her breasts swelling so beautifully.

      

       “You’re a natural,” she crooned. “not one of those dilettantes who go all to pieces the first time I give them a little taste of discipline.” And for all her hardness, there was a tenderness afterwards that went beyond words. As I was untied from off the counter and looked after afterwards with such softness, I knew this is where I belonged.

Chapter 4

The next day when I arrived at Mrs. Lucy’ apartment, I honestly didn’t think she expected that I would be back, but the grin that greeted me was all I needed to know that I had made the right decision in doing so. That first night afterall, was something beyond what I ever expected, and she probably thought she might have broken me, after all was said and done.

       “Hi,” said the spider to the fly.

       “Hi,” said the fly to the spider. I couldn’t hide the smile that was on my face as I stood there in the hallway, waiting to be let in.

       I was dressed in a variation of the same outfit as the night before; a short knee-length skirt and purple blouse, black bra and panties. It wasn’t long after I entered the apartment and the pleasantries out of the way, before things started again.

       “Lift your skirt,” she commanded.

       My throbbing ass pulsing under my skirt, I wasn’t about to pay another penalty for hesitation. I raised my skirt to waist level.

       “Just as I thought,” sniffed Mrs. Lucy. “Remove those.”

       I hooked my thumbs under the waist band of my panties and started to draw them down. I couldn’t look her in the eye as I did.

       “Turn around first,” Mrs. Lucy said impatiently, as though I had forgotten something obvious.

       When my back was to her, she took a step forward and held my skirt up, taking in my reddened backside. “And slowly,” she said. Once again, I hooked my thumbs into my panties and slowly took them off, my red ass almost glowing bright as it was exposed to the cool air-conditioned apartment.

       “You won’t be needing those here,” she said, taking them from me as I stepped out of them. She then proceeded to give me instructions as we walked about the house, pointing out exactly what needed to be cleaned and what all needed to be done, and I nodded with each task as she laid them all out for me.

       The tour ended at a locked door. It was oak peneled, with gargoyles carved into the strim around it. “This is where you’ll be punished,” she explained.

       With a final “Yes, Mistress,” she was out for the afternoon and I was left to my task. 

       The afternoon had been spent cleaning, my lack of panties making me always aware of my bottom, just as it was intended. Every passing breeze seemed to find its way up my skirt, and the fabric caressed my skin every time I moved, sending small shivers through my body as my still reddened ass was caressed.

               

       When Lucy returned later that afternoon, my thighs were positively slick from a mixture of sweat and from my own juices. It didn’t take long until we made our way into the bedroom though, my clothes quickly coming off and me kneeling at the foot of the bed.

       “You wish to taste me,” she taunted, sitting naked on the edge of the bed. “but you must wait until after you’ve been punished. I did say you would spend all week with your ass raw, and I want you to wet my thighs with your tears while you pleasure me.”

       I started shaking, not with fear, but with a much stronger and more indefinable emotion.

       “Stand up,” she snapped.

       I rose and centered my myself between the bedposts, arms at my sides, eyes straight ahead. “Hands and feet against the posts,” she said.

       The bed was wide. I had to spread my legs very far apart, and my arms were almost level with my shoulders as I gripped the posts.

       She took something out of the nightstand drawer and stood up. As she advanced on me, I could see that she was carrying a thick leather strap about a foot and a half long and two inches wide. My knuckles turned white around the posts. I had been expected the paddle again, or the white belt se had used the day before. This was a new and unknown threat.

       She noticed my alarm and grinned. “You will find this experience to be quite different,” and said, and struck.

       The paddle had stung, the belt bit. The sudden sharpness of the pain froze me, and it wasn’t until she had delivered two more quick slashes, backhand and forehand, that I yielded to relax, and although it took everything to stand passively while she spanked me again, my ass eventually pushed itself out to meet the strap.

       After a half dozen slaps, she came closer and ran her hands down the taut skin of my shoulders and cupped my breasts. “A bit more than you bargained for?” she whispered, her breath hot on my neck.

       I nodded and whined softly, but I held firm, holding onto the bedposts. She stepped back and I closed my eyes as she continued, soon hissing as the slaps grew harder.

       When she came back closer, she slipped her hand between my legs and toyed with my pussy, pinching the little lips while I winced and writhed. Her hand was making me uncomfortably aware of my vulnerability. I could close my legs or cover my breasts, put an end to it all if I wanted, but I moaned softly as her fingers entered me, and whined again when she went back to using the strap. So far it had landed squarely on my ass, but my position made everything a potential target.

       It went on. When my ass was glowing and swollen again, she discovered virgin territory between my legs, the thin skin inside my thighs, terrifyingly close to my pussy, which continued to flow. And on – I could look down and see the red stripes appear on my thighs. I was outside the pain now, observing my own torture, hearing my involuntary cries, wondering at my tears.

       Then it was her hand I felt again, stroking between my legs, probing the wet folds of my bare pubes. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. She dipped a finger into my throbbing puss, her thumb easing back to circle the tight opening of my anus. “Today we’ll start with your anal training,” she whispered, her mouth finding the bottom of my right earlobe and her thumb pushing its way inside me gently. The thumb worked its way inside and then out, and while I wasn’t a complete virgin down there, it was still a relatively new sensation as it went back in.

       While her hands busied themselves with my body, one hand staying down below and the other twisting my nipples, she taunted me with promises. When the time came, she would plow my ass deep and wide by the hour, but she would condition my body to accept this outrage as graciously as possible. I listened as she went on in gleeful detail how, in time, I would bend over and spread my cheeks for her.

       Then her hand seized my hair and she pulled me up to kneel before her. She was sure of the power her muscular thighs craved within me, and her puss was wet and hot from that knowledge.

       I had never really gone down on another girl before that points, and it’s  really amazing how having your rump roasted can really make you work, my tongue soon busy. Without having to be told, I knew all the best places to lick, and I didn’t neglect any of them. If I found a spot that made Mrs. Lucy’ breath quicken, I was sure to come back to it.

       Her puss was soft and sweet and tasted better than I would have thought something like that could. She came about six times before she finally pushed me away, and yes, I wet her thighs with my tears while I pleasured her

Chapter 5

The table was icy, and I gasped when I sat down. The room was cool as well, she had set the temperature for her own comfort, not mine and I shivered, feeling very bare.

       She started with some more detailed questions about my experience back there, and her hands were busy as we spoke, probing my vulva with an interest that was first clinical and soon carnal. She held up her damp fingers between us and grinned as she slipped them into my willing mouth for me to suck clean. I cast my eyes down, knowing that it would turn her on to see me demurely accepting this humiliation. I glanced up once, quickly, to confirm the head behind her stare.

       “You like playing doctor, don’t you?”

       My mouth was full, so I nodded.

       She took her fingers out of my mouth and wiped them on my thigh. “Good, that means you won’t give me a lot of virginal nonsense when I start training you.”

       “No Mistress!” I was starting to feel like a trained parrot, with my repertoire of responses so limited, but reading this woman’s temper was difficult. Her easygoing attitude could be a trap, inviting me to take liberties that would land in in trouble. At least formal replies were safe.

       “Turn around and bend over.”

       When I obeyed, it was my front that felt the cold touch of the table. I sucked in my stomach to minimize the contact, as my nipples shrank to rubbery points. I turned my head to watch as Mrs. Lucy selected a jar form a nearby shelf, then quickly faced front as she returned, looking elsewhere the way I always did when nurses prepped me in the hospital. I felt somehow that it would be rude to confront people that way – show them my anxious face while they did something necessary and unpleasant to me.

       Her gloved palm was impersonal against my cheek as she spread me, and I went rigid when an icy glob of gel touched my anus. “Relax,” she cooked. “it’s just a bit of lube. We’ll save the hot stuff until you do something to deserve it.”

       Her finger speared into me, twisting, exploring inside. “You’re pretty tight, all right,” she observed. “The first thing you have to learn is how to relax, honey. When you’re touched here, you need to open wide – for whatever anyone decides to poke into you. You’ve got to assume that the longest, fattest cock you can imagine is about to come in. Like as not, it will be. That sucker better GAPE, unless you want it to hurt.”

       As she spoke, her fingers were alive inside me. Two now, wiggling and scissoring. The stretching sensation was painful at times, but her hands were clever, finding areas that relaxed me, soothing the tense muscled that gripped them, triggering the flutter of arousal, the preparation of a virgin.  This beautiful stranger was handling me in the most intimate way possible.

       “How does it feel” she murmured.

       I moaned. “I think I like it!”

       Her free hand smacked me, and I jumped, clenching against the fingers inside me.

       “Mistress!” I added quickly.

       She chuckled and her fingers slithered out of me. I lay gasping, staring straight ahead, all of my tension centered in my tight fists as I strove to relax for whatever she might decide to do next. Her hot handprint on my ass, delivered with such enthusiasm, warmed that I might expect more, but apparently she had more pressing business to take care of first.

       The nozzle was cold as it entered me. I gasped, then whimpered as I heard a hiss and felt it swell inside. This wasn’t an altogether new sensation, as I had long ago learned to keep everything clean, inside and out. As she squeezed the rubber ball in her hand, the swelling inside me increased, and she grinned as she squeezed twice more. I caught my breath and began to pant like a woman in labour, slumping over the table and bending my knees as I strove to relax the internal muscles that tightened reflexively against the pain. It was like having a balloon inside me.

       I had been filled and emptied several times, until I was passing nothing except the witch’s brew she had been pumping into me, and for my last load she screwed a large and well-lubricated plug into me to help me retain the last fill.

       “That should do for now,” she said, coming around and teasing me with the perfume of her scent before taking my head in her hands and straddling me. My distended belly gurgled and whined while I worked my tongue frantically to pleasure her. She wraps her things around my head and lays her heels on my back.

       “Eat,” she tells me. “When I come, you can go.”

       By now you should know how perverse I was. Can you understand me if I tell you that the agony was sweet? Sweeter still was the nectar I lapped, and knowing I had primed it. She used my hair for reins, and though she tried to hold off as long as possible, I had the urgency of need fuelling my tongue. I whine into her body as the cramps cause me to spasm, and my lips engulf her hood, drawing the throbbing bud out. She cums soon and hard.

       When I was done, she was up in a bound and had me kneeling over the drain. After all, if she didn’t keep her word, there would never be any trust. Dizzy with the afterglow, she takes a hold of the plug as I kneel over the drain.

       “Who’s the Mistress?”

       “You are!”

       “Ask permission.”

       Once I was emptied, I was returned and bent over the table again. Bending, I became aware of the air, cool against my cheeks. When she lifted my unresisting hands and strapped them to the legs of the table, my worst suspicions were confirmed. My ankles were next, and the edge of the table extended beyond the legs. To reach them, she pulled my ankles apart and forward until my feet no longer reached the floor. There was a strap for my waist as well, snugged down until my belly was tight against the icy table and my cheeks yawned. My ass couldn’t be more open – not a more inviting target.         

       It was a taws she used, and it hummed as she spanked me yet again. The pain was sharper than before and I was glad that the table was bolted to the floor; otherwise I would have toppled it, recoiling from the blow. When she shouted, “Right cheek!” I raised my hip from the table and strained to present it to her. “Left cheek!” Even though the breath I had just drawn exploded from my lungs as a tortured bark, I rocked on the table to show her the clearest possible target.

       “Center!” she coached. “C’mon, show me that crack!” I pushed up and out, gooseflesh rising, my eyes shut tight and my jaw clenched in anticipation for the awful stroke. I howled.

       “Again!”

       

       While my mind silently protesting the impossibility of enduring another like that, my legs contrived to spread themselves a little more and expose the tenderest flesh. It wasn’t the lash that found me, however, it was her finger that slipped between my scorched cheeks with a thick glob of lubricant and ticked my ass inside. I flinched at the unexpected tough, then sighed and pressed myself back upon it.

       “Good girl,” she beamed. “I told you we were going to have fun.” A humming vibrator replaced her finger, entering me with sensuous slowness. “Open wide now, swallow it down.” Her rising inflection carried a warning.

       Threats were unnecessary. The sensations that resonated through my loins stimulated my clit indirectly; while the psychological effect of being so rudely forced in this unnatural way –- the sheer obscenity of this act, was taking me rapidly to the edge. Why would I want to deny this seductive depravity? I couldn’t really tell if the vibrator was being pushed into me, or sucked in.

       “They boys are really going to enjoy you!” Mrs. Lucy cackled gleefully. I actually felt proud because she was pleased with me. Perhaps it was this acceptance I felt that kept me from running while I still had the chance. No pain, no gain.

       When I could feel the cold palm of her hand against my heated cheeks, she murmured, “Squeeze it out.”

       I tightened obediently, blushing furiously at the familiar act this suggested, and felt the vibrator shoot out of me and into her waiting hand. The tip had just cleared my sphincter when she began to push. “Open.”

       A rhythm was established, a given and take, in and out. She made me an accomplice to the violation. It was a kindness, really, allowing me to feel that I had some measure of control.  “You do this around a real cock,” she giggled. “and you will milk it dry in no time. Tighten up now. Stay that way. Try to keep it out.”

       She continued to pump the greased shaft. Though my clenched channel failed to slow the assault, the sensation was increased. I began to sweat and pant like a bitch in heat. Now the impression of rape was greater. This plastic love would not be denied.

       “Good! Now relax completely, loose as a goose.”

       I sighed, letting her have her way with me. She pumped faster. “You have permission to cum, she laughed.

       I let myself go, escaping into that cozy familiar world of my dreams and the shudders caught me unaware as my empty puss quivered and my throbbing clit jolted me.

She hadn’t even touched me down there, and I was cumming without hesitation.

       “Congratulations!” she crowed. “Honey, you are about to become the most popular piece of ass in town!”

       She let me have a moment to compose myself before she resumed her thrusting. It was painful at first; in the afterglow of orgasm, I only wanted to rest, and the insistent buzzing of the shaft driving into me was irritating.

       “Please!” I whined. “Haven’t I had enough?”

       “When you are serving a real cock,” she said stiffly. “you won’t be the one who decides that you’ve had enough.”

       It was exactly what I needed, of course, I had to learn that it wasn’t just about me. I tested her, I suppose. The same way I strain against my shackled when I am bound, to reassure myself that escape is impossible.

       It was her merciless response that stirred my treacherous loins again. I grew silent, except for the rhythmic panting that was forced from me as I rocked upon the sweat slick table. 

       “Permission?” I whispered, after a long pause.

       “You haven’t earned another,” she said.

       She helped me to stand after removing my bindings, and let me massage my chafed wrists while she buckled a belt around my waist. “Spread ‘em.”

       I spread my legs and looked over my shoulder at her. She was smearing grease on an anal plug that was thicker than the vibrator. “You’re making excellent progress,” she said. “We’ll start you off with a number three.”

       Wearily, I rested my elbows on the table and stoically endured yet another penetration; though I caught my breath when she threaded the crotch strap carefully between my pussy lips and buckled it in the rear, driving the plug in deep and pinching my clit.

       Seizing the taws, she swept it across my bottom to get my attention.

       I had remained bent over the table, letting my body adjust to the large foreign object invading me, weak from the dual assaults of pain and humiliation. The taws brought me to attention. There was outraged protest in my cry.        

       “Do you have a problem?” Mrs. Lucy asked sweetly.

       I remembered my manners in time. “No, Mistress!”

       “Good. Let’s take a walk.”

       I was up and walking, and as we strode around the apartment, I could feel her gaze on my ass. “One foot in front of the other! That’s right! Make it twitch. Shoulders back and tits out, strut like a little whore. Show the world what a nasty, dirty slut you are. That plug up your ass is there to improve your posture.”

       Every step punctuated every sentence. I tried to stride like a runaway model and ignore its sharp bites. The crotch strap sawed into me and the plug shifted with every step I took. It was another absurd parade, but I never felt less like laughing.

       An hour later, as the plug had been eased out of my swollen hole and tossed to the floor between my legs, I discovered that it was smaller than most real cocks, but not by much. She had called it a number three, so apparently there were smaller ones available. I suspected that I would be feeling larger ones in the future. I was to be opened, and I feared the process would be painful.

       “Feeling a little high?” asked Mrs. Lucy. “There is nothing like a good session to get the endorphins pumping.”

       Any cruelty she had demonstrated before was gone now, replaced by her cheery enthusiasm and soft touches as we lay in bed. I felt drained by the experience, yet tingly and exhilarated as well. My buttocks glowed. My anus felt cored and scoured, aching and oddly empty. My stretched sphincter would throb and contract for hours, reminding me of the outrageous things she had done to it.

       “Tomorrow you should be ready for a number four.”

       

Chapter 6

The next day, it was much the same, and I showed up at Mrs. Lucy’ door sparkly clean (inside and out), ready to serve, and horny as hell! As I stood there knocking on the door, my ass throbbing with the first day’s bruises showing though yesterday’s crimson flush… I had every expectation that I would be punished again, even if I didn’t do anything to deserve it. Mrs. Lucy had said as much the first day after all, that I would be spanked raw every day this week.

       The day before, she had filled me with a plug she called a number three. My anus still throbbed with that memory as I stood there, but I knew my swollen opening would soon harbour a larger one.

       I knew that the dreadful progression of torments and humiliation would continue. I felt like a helpless addict who knows that his habit will eventually destroy him, but I knew I must follow the path that had been set before me. The devil baptizes with fire.

      

       Exhausted, ravenous and sore, I stepped into the apartment for the third time and was not disappointed. 

      

       “Turn around.”

      

       “Here it comes,” I thought, and her fingertips were light on my bottom. When she reached down to run cool fingers over my blazing buns, I arced up to meet the touch like a stroked cat. I could feel the gooseflesh rise in their wake. I had been spanked and strapped and paddled for two days, and had welts on my welts. It was on fire, but I could feel a glow inside, deep where it aches when I want a cock.

       “Bend over.”

       Her finger followed the furrow down, stopping at my asshole. “Is this sore as well?” She tapped at the door with a sharp nail, and I felt it open. “You’re already learning, good! We can’t have you going all tight when a real guy wants to use you. You’re going to get your ass fucked this weekend, and I want you to be well opened by that time.” She opened a jar on the vanity, and a moment later I felt something cold and greasy being pushed in deep with a hard finger, twisting it before adding another. I whined. “You are a bit sore,” she observed. “That’s good. You should be very sensitive by the time you’re ready for a real cock.”

       “Yes, Mistress.”

       

       She smacked my ass with a hard palm, her other now holding something for me to admire. “I like a girl to see what’s coming.”

       The plug was bigger than the one she had stuffed me with the day before. They were sized by number; this one looked like it might be a number four. She made me kiss it, had me suck it and then let me wait for it while she took her time greasing the monster and packing more lube inside me. I have learned since then that lubricant tends to be absorbed by the anal membranes after awhile. If I knew then, I would have guessed what was in store for me.

       I took a deep breath and pushed back when I felt the point of the plug begin to nose into me. The tapered shaft seemed to grow as it advanced, until stretched muscles protested the impossibility of this accommodation. She backed off a little and cooed encouragement. I breathed out and slumped forward, commanding my body to relax. When the plug advanced again I felt the mouth open. There was a brief flare of pain as the widest part of the plug oozed inside, then the ring of muscle contracted upon the narrower neck, holding it fast.

       I shifted my hips, feeling the muscles flex and adjust inside me as the pain subsided. A quick smack to my ass brought that pain back. I bit my lip.

       “Turn and kneel.”

       Her red silk robe was open in the front, and she was naked under it. She leaned back in her chair and hooked her knees over my shoulders.

       “Eat.”

       It was a sweet duty. She had such power over me and I had made a gift of it, surrendering to her. This was the only time when I could exercise control – by stealing hers. When my Mistress gnawed her lips and sank her claws into my shoulders, the power to cause it was mine.

       Practice had improved me. I knew that the flutter of my tongue over her clit should be back and forth rather than up and down, that I should begin with a deep tonguing, and that taking her mound in my mouth and sucking could make her clutch my hair and growl. I paused when she came, but she murmured urgently: “Again! Again!” and pressed her heels into my back

       It was over too soon. It always was.

       She stood up and patted my head. Once again, a belt was fastened around my waist, the strap dangling between my legs pulled tight enough to make me jump, then buckled and locked with a small padlock. It seemed I would have a companion with me while I went about my chores for the day.

       When she returned hours later, the plug I was sure, had doubled in size while she was away. The hole around it was throbbing. My full bladder didn’t help either, and soon enough I was back to being bare ass up in the air and a paddle in her hand.

       “You know what this is for don’t you?” she laughed.

       “I’ve done everything you asked me to,” I whined.

       “Petulance is punishable,” she warned. “You have performed better than I expected, actually.”

       I felt something slender, cold and hard, like a skeleton’s finger, sliding down my butt crease, searching. It opened my lips and went on, finding my clit. I hadn’t had any release all day, and the little invader I wore during my time alone earlier had only turned me on more than I would have expected, so I rocked back to meet it. I humped the handle of the paddle like it was her hand.

       I was just getting into it when she took the handle away. I saw it in front of my face.

       “You’ve soiled it,” she whispered. “Clean it off.”

       I knew she didn’t want me to want me to wipe if with a rag. I opened my mouth and the wooden handle slid slowly between my lips.

       “I just want to give you a souvenir.”

       There was an explosion. The paddle rebounded with a sharp crack, the impact followed by an expanding ball of pain.

       Yesterday, a spanking had still been an erotic novelty. Today it just hurt. Spending a couple of hours with a wedge in my gut didn’t help my disposition any either. Mrs. Lucy had warned me that the game wouldn’t always be fun and ny reasons for being there made less sense all the time. Love? Sex? Penance? Why was I squirming on the floor, getting my ass beat by a woman I hardly knew? It was just too much, and too early in the week.

       “Raise up a little. Offer it to me.”

       I did, wondering how many more there would be. I pursed my lips and clenched my fists and took it, a dozen blows. A few minutes, that was all it took. How long is a few minutes sitting on a hot stove?

       Then her hands were moving to release me, and the plug was gently twisted and pulled until my ass loosed its grip enough to let go. I sighed as I collapsed on the floor, Mrs Lucy bending down to straddle me and kiss my forehead. She didn’t waste her breath on apologies, or sympathies. Words would have spoiled it. My resentment evaporated with the kiss though, along with any decision to abandon this madness while I still had the resolve. You wonder that I was so easy, that she could simply kiss it and make it well. I was nineteen then. I was in lust. I still believed in happy engine and deathless love. I returned the kiss.

       She spent a moment grinning down at me, reading every thought, seeing the exits closing behind my eyes, like wind blown doors. Then she took my hands in hers and flopped me over onto my back. I gasped as my ass touched the floor, and she pushed my legs apart and dove in.

       I never felt any teeth. She just sucked me like a ripe peach while her tongue flicked over the best spots. My first impulse was to grab her head with both hands and ride it, but I wasn’t about to step out of line by touching her without permission. With my ass boarding red hot under me, I couldn’t forget that she was in control.

       Maybe that’s why I came big time.

       I could feel the arteries in my neck swelling. I clawed the hardwood. I made weird animal noise.

       When I was down to just panting and vibrating, Mrs. Lucy gave me a peck on the cheek and I was dismissed, but not before she showed me the butt plug and leather chastity belt that I would take with me.

       The base was flared so that it wouldn’t fall in and get lost. Once again, I had to get on my knees and suck it like a cock first, then turn around and raise my ass while she worked a glob of lube into me, twisting her fingers around more than I thought she needed to.

       “You’re going to wear this until you get home,” she whispered into my ear once it was nestled inside. She pulled the crotch strap tight against my pussy and between my cheeks, locking it with a padlock.

       Dismissed, I took the shortest way there, and didn’t look up at anyone until I was safely in the door. No one had said anything to me on the way, but I couldn’t help feeling that everyone knew I had a plastic cock shifting around in my ass with every step I took. I purposeful hadn’t taken the bus and instead chose to walk the whole way, not trusting myself enough not to jump or cry out if I had to sit down. It was one torture traded for another.

Chapter 7

The next day when I entered the apartment and my naked ass had been bared for the fourth day in a row, Mrs. Lucy commented that I hadn’t really been reddened enough the day before.

       “Mistress, please spank my ass very hard with a leather strap.”

       “Bare ass,” she corrected. I wondered if this litany was one she had heard many times, the standard form, or if she had thought about it this morning over breakfast.

       One way or the other, I had varied the script, and could expect the severity of my punishment to be adjusted accordingly. I repeated my request with chattering teeth, including the missed worked. I should have been reluctant to enter, knowing what waited within, but that hadn’t been the case.

       She crossed her arms. “How many strokes do you think I should give you?”

       I was flustered. No number had been mentioned. If I asked for leniency; cowardice might only earn me more, but I had felt the strap before, and courage came hard.

       “Fifty, Mistress?”

       “Wrong answer. Try again.”

       I closed my eyes. “Seventy five? Please, Mistress?”

       “You try my patience.”

       My lip started to tremble. It wasn’t fair that I should have to decide. How could I be expected to play when the rules were decided by whim? Then I got it.

       “As many as you wish, Mistress.”

       She reached down and softly took a handful of my hair, pulled me to my feet and dragged me to the center of the room. Soon I was a living hammock, hanging from the ceiling by my wrists and ankles. A spreader bar kept my legs wide open. A sling supported my back, without protecting my ass. I was almost comfortable, and a hundred percent helpless.

       Mrs. Lucy took her time adjusting the tension in the ropes, until my ass was lower than the rest of me. Then she rolled a stool and a utility cart over and sat down between my thighs. I couldn’t see everything on the cart, my left leg was blocking the view, but the things I could see made me swallow hard.

       She probed me with fingers first, working lube into me and massaging me inside until I began to relax. “Sore?”

       “A little, Mistress.”

       She nodded. “We’re asking your sphincter to do things it has never done before. It’s a muscle. Training will condition it.”

       She slipped the speculum into me. I think she had been storing it in the freezer. When she opened it, I gritted my teeth.

      

       “Relax.” She used the flashlight to inspect me. “No damage. I would say you’re good to go. I can’t decide whether to start with the asshole stretching or warm you up with the strap. I guess I’ll trade off, it will be less boring that way.”

      

       She stuffed me with a string of beads, but perhaps beads isn’t the right word. These orbs were nearly the size of gold balls, and I did a fair amount of gasping and squirming, but was patient. She teased me open and she pressed them home. They were stainless steel, heavy and icy cold, and soon my guts felt packed. When there was nothing outside of my except a loop of string for retrieving them, she stood up.

      

       “That should hold you for now.” She picked up a wide leather strap that had been split into tails at the end. “Keep your eyes open. I want you to watch it coming.”

      

       I don’t know what was worse, seeing the strap swinging toward me, or reading the glee on her face. I had asked for an ass whipping, but the choice of targets was up to her, of course. My open thighs were irresistible, and she lashed enthusiastically to the inside, where the skin was tender and thin.

      

        She paused to move the stool out of the way and give herself swinging room. Then she started on my ass. Would my poor buns ever have time to fully recover between thrashings? The first stroke reawakened the dormant paints of yesterday and the day before. I twitched and twisted until the ropes were pulled taut and she had to hold my ankle to stop me from swinging and spoiling her aim.

      

       But the time came, as it usually does, when my mind shifted over. Unendurable pain became a sort of excitation, a holt to my nerves, transformed by a weird masochist alchemy into pleasure.

      

       “Push out the first ball.”

      

       I stared in confusion for a moment. She laid a hard one across one cheek, enforcing her command with a shot of pain.

      

       “Come on! Lay an egg for me!” Another flare of pain encouraged me.

      

       I pushed, thinking absurdly that this was like giving birth, with my feet over my head and a coach between my legs. I felt the first ball pop free and nestle between my cheeks. IT felt hot. My body warmed it.

      

       She hit me again. “Good girl. Show me another.”

      

       The second ball emerged. Now I had sort of a absurd tail swinging below. She tapped it with a fingertip and set it swinging. “Again.”

      

              When there were three, she used them for a handle and jerked the rest of the string free. I yelped. She just laughed and tossed the greasy bauble into the sink for me to clean later.

      

        She set the strap aside and greased the inflatable plug that I had already learned to dread. “You can hold this while I get down to some serious ass paddling.”

Chapter 8

Most people were clueless. They didn’t understand that my marks, even though most of them were in places that didn’t show when clothed, were like military decorations or something. They didn’t understand that after a night without my ass cork I was feeing this major void. They didn’t know that the next morning I would reach back to spread my own cheeks and welcome the next plug home.

      

       They didn’t know that Mrs. Lucy and I were right for each other in some gothic sort of way, and when I showed up at her door on day five with ass throbbing, I knew it wouldn’t buy me anything.

       Bent over the bench in the center of the punishment room, my hands drawn down the legs of the post and secured firmly to the floor, my muscles stretched and my shoulder blades pulled back right, a belt around my waist holding me down, my back arched and the cleft of my buttocks open, my legs split wide apart and chained to the floor, knees strapped to the legs of the bench and my collar secure so that I couldn’t turn my head, there was no place I would rather be.

       “What can we fill your empty hole with today?” she teased.

       “Whatever you wish, Mistress.” Came my reply and she chuckled at that.

       Five days ago I was so resistant when she introduced me to anal penetration, but now I had come to enjoy it. I had a lovely pussy, there was no doubt about that, but apparently it was too hungry and eager. I had to be taken in a way that required capitulation. I knew that if I tightened against her the violation would be painful.

       She brushes the opening with a finger and watches as it opens like a flower. Not yet.

       She pivots on her heel and strides into the bathroom, where she takes a tube of menthol tooth gel and squeezed a generous dollop on two fingers. Returning to her victim, she slides the fingers into my anus, massaging in the gel. I squirm as much as my binding allow; the menthol burns fiercely for a few minutes, then subsides to a cold heat inside of me.

       “This will keep you hot for later.”

       She picks up the paddle, and my lower lip quivers.

       Later, the room is quiet except for my laboured breathing. My ass was again blazing hot and a plug nestled deep inside me. Putting the paddle down, she takes the base of the plug and twists it inside me. My breath catches, and as I feel the ring of muscle relax around the plug I wait for her to take it out. Instead she chuckles and pushes it deeper, rocking it back and forth.

       All I can do is whimper. “You know when the day comes, I’m not going to take it lightly don’t you? Going to force your face down and push… and as long as I’ve got you tied down tight enough, you’re not going to go anywhere. Maybe squirm a little while I plow you in the ass?”

       My crestfallen look is my only reply and she returns to her stool then, swinging her legs over my back and lifting me by the hair to tuck her crotch under my face.

       “Thank-me.”

Chapter 9

The sixth day passed by swiftly, and like every afternoon before, it was spent with me getting my ass paddled, strapped, spanked or stuffed until it was filled to bursting. When Mrs, Lucy returned each night, I would be bent over the nearest item of furniture – table, dresser, bed, and given my strokes for the day. .

      

       The whole week, I was constantly stuffed, then paddled or spanked or strapped some more.

      

       More often than not, I would be sent to fetch the implement for her. She had a closet full of anal plugs as varied as they got, and I spent a good part of most afternoons wearing one. She tested me with her fingers before deciding on the diameter. She always selected one thick enough to hurt, but soon enough they hardly bothered me at all.

       At first I had a hard time of it, my ass kept clenching around the thing, and I had to relax so it wouldn’t hurt. When I did that, it would ooze in deeper, like it was alive. When I sat, it was one one cheek or the other. The damn strap was right on my clit too, and that only made me horny throughout the day.

       The ubiquitous plugs, so painful and alien to me at first, became almost comfortable as they nestled deep inside. The forced muscles abandoned resistance, and yielded to the pressure, relaxing and inviting these visitors inside, where they were greeted with a hug. When I knelt beside her, my position snugged the crotch strap tighter, deepening my impalement and tormenting my clit with exquisite friction. When nothing inhabited me, I felt abandoned. My plugs were a gift from her, a continual reminder that I was being prepared at her pleasure, that my body was acquiring new function.

       Of course, it was all a part of the master plan. I would get the paddle or some other instrument on my ass before the plugs, so that I would come to welcome their foreign intrusion after a time. I would not get to cum unless my ass was filled, so that I would associate the foreign sensations was pleasure and they would become one.

        She had noticed the sensitivity of my nipples that first day, and tormented them with clips of various types. She would hang weights from them and drive me around the room with a paddle, or bell me like a cat, so that my screams would have a musical counterpoint. She even had nipple clamps that got tighter as you pulled them, but through the pain and the gasps, I only got wetter when they were.

       I would lie across her strong thighs while she spanked me or fiddled with my loins. She would wring orgasms from me that left me limp, then revive my lust with her hairbrush or a paddle, then satisfy me again with a strap-on dildo, fucking me slow and deep. I would gasp beneath her with my head turned away to hide my overwhelming lust and watch her feral grin from the corner of my eye.

       Sexual need was a constant pulse that turned my nipples into hard buttons and made my puss weep with frustration. Yet Mrs. Lucy often let me remain unsatisfied, and I quickly realized that I wasn’t going to cum without something in my ass either. In order to get used to the new sensations, she wanted the two things to be combined. No pain, no gain. So she would torture me by commanding me to masturbate before her and stopping me short of release, and I knew before I started that if my ass was empty, I would not cum. My self-control became incredible. Even when I went I left for the night, my hands never strayed.

       My mouth was also something she never kept empty, and I soon learned to relax my jaw completely, like a python. “Let’s see what else that mouth is good for,” she would say, before strapping a cock around her waist that made me catch my breath. I sucked the strap-on down past my gag relax and went to work, and she loved it when I stared up at her with my mouth full of cock. She also sometimes liked to hold my ears or reach under me to pinch my nipples while I serviced the fake cock. I was often on all fours while I serviced her this way, my exposed ass high up in the air.

       A finger, slick with my own juices, stabbed into my ass, making me mewl around the cock.

       She filled my mouth with the fake cock, arcing her hips to urge me deeper. I took a deep breath and swallowed when I felt myself begin to choke.  The pressure against the back of my throat primed tears, and my eyes were streaming by the time she removed the dildo and straddled my head to make her cum. I licked her clean every time.

      

Chapter 10

      

Ass aching and bladder busting, I barely made it through the few hours Mrs. Lucy had been out for the next day. When she returned, she made me thank her for the plug before she took it out.

       “Turn around and bend over.”

       I did. I could feel her hands lifting my skirt and spreading my cheeks, little sparks of electricity coming out of her finger tips as they brushed my ass and ran them down the crack of my ass. She stopped when she got to the plug, and tapped it with a long red nail, sending faint vibrations into me.

       “It looks good on you,” she remarked. Then, she laughed. Sorry, wrong preposition. In you.”

       She had me thank her then, beg her to take it out and red faced, I did.

      

       It was that same Friday evening, when I was almost out the door and on my way home with thoughts of returning for the whole weekend, that she finally reminding me of what was in store.

      

       “Don’t forget,” she said demurely. “This weekend, you’re going to get your ass fucked.”

Chapter 11

Saturday morning, I got a lesson in real bondage. Mrs. Lucy’ favourite way of binding me was diabolically simple. She would have me sit on the floor and grab my toes. My shins and forearms were wrapped in canvas sleeves and strapped tightly together – left to left and right to right. A two-foot spreader bar separated my knees. That was it.

       Rolled onto my back, I was helpless as a flipped battle, and could only flail the air with my fingers and toes. Of course, my crotch was always frightfully available for whipping or penetration.

      

       Rolled onto my front, I became a sort of living pyramid. My bound limbs, shoulders, nose and chin formed the base. My ass became the apex.

      

       My large perky breasts – that needed no bra to keep them riding high -- were wrapped with several strips of leather into two large jiggling grapefruit sized balls of quivering flesh.

      

       From an eyebolt screwed through the center of the spreader bar, I could be hung from the ceiling, where I would spin slowly, my head and loins dangling at crotch level for her convenience. Small weights dangling from chains clipped to my nipples, my contortions turned them into wild pendulums while I was whipped and impaled, the center of my blazing target a black bullseye -– the base of a flat plug that distended me.

       Brought into the punishment room later that night, center stage was a high T shaped bench. It was padded on top and had canvas straps on like they use on patients in psycho wards.  Mrs. Lucy stopped me when my hips were against the edge of the bench. Collared, she pulled my leash to bend me over it. She didn’t say anything as she fastened my wrists to the legs of the bench, nor when she spread my ankles and chained them to the floor.

      

       It was like a way surreal and solemn moment. The only sound in the room was the click of buckles and the crack of leather under me as I settled into what was to come. After my wrists were fastened, I knew I wasn’t going anywhere, but Mrs. Lucy strapped up my knees and elbows too, pulling my elbows in tight against the bench and my knees farther apart. My collar was on a short chain, with my chin hanging over the edge. I could raise my head just enough to see straight ahead.

      

       There was this padded bolster thing under my hips. I thought that it was there to make me more comfortable, until Mrs. Lucy wrapped a canvas strap across the small of my back and snugged it down. That tilted my pelvis and opened up my crack about another inch. I felt like I was the guest of honour at some pagan ritual. If she was planning a virgin sacrifice the joke was on her.

      

       “You’re so beautiful,” she said, shaking me out of my trance.

      

       I didn’t feel beautiful. Certainly not with the number 4 butt plug I wearing.

      

       Behind me, I could feel Mrs. Lucy snapping on a pair of surgical gloves. I smelled the oil before I felt it being massaged into every fold and cranny of my ass, around the plug, then between my legs and down my thighs. She was mapping out the territory. I recognized the way my skin got tingly and right; it was herbal rub.

      

       I threw her a look that would melt Hitler’s heart.

      

       She just gave me this adoring gaze. “I know, it’s the fear that makes you so beautiful.”

      

       Okay,        so much for clemency. She was going to hurt me because it got her off. I would get off too, probably, but I could easily pass on the pain part and go directly to the sex.

      

       The latex gloves hit the wastebasket. “All set.”

       Coming around, she held up two paddles where I could see them. “Which do you prefer?”

       Ouch! None of the above? I thought, but instead said; “The leather one, please.”

       She used the rubber one, which would redden me nicely.

       Mrs. Lucy spanked me fast and hard, the way you pond steak to make it tender. She wasn’t mad. She just seemed interested in making a good job of it. The blows started high, just below the place where it dimples when I stand, where there isn’t much meat to cover the bond. Each time the paddle hit, she moved it just a little farther down, and after the first couple of dozen, she was finding the sweet spot, where the sting almost feels good.

       I was not a good girl. I struggled like hell, tested that canvas to the max, yipping like a puppy the whole time. Then I unscrunched my eyes enough to see Mrs.  Lucy’ reflection in the mirror ahead of me.  She was right there behind me, and I could see so much hear in her eyes that I wanted to take it – for her. I closed my eyes again and tried to ride it out.

       “Just a little more,” I told myself. Mrs. Lucy’ pussy had to be dripping wet by now, for sure. She would have other uses for me soon, and I managed a tight smile for her. I was sort of adjusting to the pain, if that’s possible, discovering that it hurt less if I went limp and zoned out. I got into this sort of Zen state, so that each explosion of pain seemed to echo everywhere, radiating heat down to my own sopping puss.

       Like most I would imagine, weird shit crossed my mind while I was getting my ass paddled. I suppose I was distracting myself or something. I wondered if I would be getting any from my Mistress tonight, then I wondered if she would be nicer to me if I gave her some head first. Then I thought of a really lame joke. Why is Mrs. Lucy like an insurance agent? She goes for full coverage.

       Full coverage is what I got, twice around the globe, up and down the thighs. The whole time I was barking “HUNH! HUNH!” like a pig every time she hit me. I was drilling and sweating. My eyes were dripping, and my nose, and my pussy. This rump roast was well done, cooked to the bone.

       Things became completely psycho then. Mrs. Lucy began murmuring encouragement to me. “Good girl! Raise up for me. Higher! Good!” and the paddle would reward me.

       My whole focus narrowed down to the next impact, and the next, and (OH MISTRESS!!!!) the next.

       I wanted it harder and faster and forever, until my brain suddenly exploded and I became a pure sensation, yelping, mindless, wallowing in agony.

       Suddenly, it was over.

       I never knew if she got tired. The next thing I knew, my face was in her hands and I was bawling, choking out sobs til there was no air left, then whooping my lungs full of air so that I could do it some more. I was pathetic.

       She kept shushing me until I got the message. The hurt was going away. “Is it bad?” She wasn’t mocking me.

       “Yes Mistress!” Actually, I was in a weird sort of slave space right then. I wanted her to take me up to bed so that I could show her just how totally subbie I was feeling, but I didn’t really want to be loose yet either. Then it hit me that what I wanted wouldn’t make any difference one way or the other – and that turned my puss into an absolute river!

       She wiped my eyes and forehead with a damp cloth. “All those lovely tears shed for my sake.”

       I blew my nose on the tissue she offered me, and opened my mouth when she put her soul into a kiss that seemed to explain everything. I kissed her back, opening my mouth for her tongue and giving her mind. I was getting high on her perfume again, her hand stroking my face so gently.

       Then she pulled away. “I think that you’re ready for the taws now.”

       After that, I was too busy screaming to worry about it, and so I was gagged. “Face down,” she warned as the black rubber ball went in and the straps found their way behind my head. “I know that little trick too,” she said into my ear. “That if you kepe your head up, you can’t get it quite as tight. Already trying to cut corners, huh?”

       The taws was different, less pop and more bite. The stiff leather wrapped and snapped and found all of the really tender places the paddle had missed. I howled and bawled and made impossible, incoherent and muffled promises.

       Much, much later, I opened my eyes hopefully during a pause in the pain. My Mistress was in front of me, untying her robe, and I noticed that it was tended in the front. I was sort of out of my head by that time, because my first thought was that she had enjoyed the show enough to grow a hard on.

       Then she dropped the robe and I saw that she had.

       “I promised you something.” Her voice was husky.        

       It was her strap on, of course, but the color was tan and matched her own skin.

       Coming around behind behind me, she tapped the plug that was still there inside with her finger. “So what do you say, I actually pull this out and replace it with my cock,” she cooed, while all I could do was moan in response. “Do you think that will feel better?” she twisted it around inside me. “Take a deep breath,” she warned.

       “MMmmmm! MMmmmmmm! MMmmmmmm!” it took three deep breaths while it began its slow exit, and when the tapered base came it was rewarded with a very loud “Ooohhhhhhhhhhh!” and when that was out, an even bigger “OOOohhhhh!” when the whole thing slipped entirely out.

       “You’re pretty open now,” she smiled.

       She came around again, squatted down to look deep into my eyes, studying my reaction. I stared back, letting her review the parade of emotion passing through my brain; humiliation, terrors, and a sort of sick anticipation. Her eyes were disturbing, so full of heat I thought she wanted to devour me or something. I knew it probably wouldn’t do  me any good at this point to bed for mercy, not that I really wanted to. “Don’t worry,” she cooed. “I’m going to go real slow, take my time and enjoy this.”

       Then she stood up again and I saw that big fake dick bobbing in front of my face. There was no doubt about what she expected to do, and I opened wide when she removed the gag. When she popped it into my mouth, I discovered it was hard inside and soft outside. Just like the real thing.

       I swallowed convulsively, almost gagging on the thing in my mouth, tickling my nose with public hairs and inhaling Mrs. Lucy’ scent while I sucked her big, beautiful cock.

       That was just a ritual, of course. She never got off on having her strap on sucked, except mentally. She just wanted me to pay homage to it and get it wet. I held my breath when she popped the dildo out of my mouth and walked slowly around the bench until she was behind me.

       “All that,” she said as the cock rested on my tailbone. “Is going right up your ass.”

       Even with all that lube, she was slow and careful putting it in. I had already learned how to relax, the plugs and anal balls taught me that, and the dildo didn’t hurt at all. It was just a feeling of being opened and filled. The sensation was nothing like normal fucking. It was more personal, like the first time all over again, only more. Once the tip was in me, she worked it deeper with short jabbing motions, not pushing too hard or fast, letting me get used to it. Every time I thought that I had it all in, her hips would grin and she poked it in a little deeper.

       “Well that went in easy,” she commented.

       Then she was all the way in. Her public hair tickled my reddened ass. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. She just stayed that was for awhile, in deep, letting me get use to its bulk. I could feel my pulse against it.

       “I wanted to do this the first time I saw you,” she said. I could tell from the sound of her voice that it was some kind of peak experience for her – me too.

       She pulled out slow, and I could feel my ass contracting like it didn’t want to let go of that yummy cock. When it was almost out, she pushed in again. I relaxed and sighed.

       “Do it, Mistress” I said. “Fuck my ass.”

      

       She smacked my ass with a hard hand and I tightened up. “I don’t need your permission.”

      

       Then she fucked me, deep and long, faster and harder. I was bleating like a sheep after a couple of minutes. She flipped a switch on her hip and I could feel the dildo begin to vibrate, driving the sensation of her thrusting into my womb, buzzing against my clit. I realized that there must be something in it for her too; because she started panting the way she does just before she cums, and jamming me hard was enough to hurt.

      

       It was too much. I started begging for her to give me a break, just for a second, but this was rape after all, and my crying just seemed to turn her own that much more. I was starting to feel like I was getting it from some machine. Then she was howling too, and digging her nails into my shoulders.

              

       She collapsed on top of me, and we both puffed like we had finished a race or something. Her breath was hot on my hair as she killed the vibrations that were still humming through my ass.

      

       She laughed, that deep throaty laugh that always turns me on. “Was it good for you too?”

       I hadn’t cum, if that’s what she meant, and it had been a pretty intense time, and her words were meant to be a tension reliever, I suppose.

       “Please,” I thought, lost in the moment. “You just beat my ass and fucked me good and proper until you came, I wasn’t supposed to enjoy it.” But I had, of course, and strapped there to the bench, I knew that even though I was mad and scared and wated out in the worst possible way, my pussy was juicing like crazy. Talking spoiled it. I just wanted her to use me again, and she didn’t really need validation or approval.

       She was quiet for a minute, and I had that weird feeling that I often get, like she was reading my mind. Maybe she was; because when she spoke again she was back in character. “I will punish that little outburst later,” she said.

       Suddenly deprived of the cock, my little hole gaped and clenched at her words. Feeding dollops of greased into the now hot tube of my anus, she pushed her fingers up into me, feeling the muscles slacken once more, until a tight bouquet of three fingers played me.

       She slid her hand out and greased the thick shaft bobbing between her legs.

       There was always something solemn about the moment of penetration, like a ritual sacrifice that had been playing out again and again, losing none of its power through repetition.

       We each hold our breath as the fat knob once again seeks and presses. She holds me steady with a hand on each blistered cheek.

       “Open for me,” she breathes.

       The little mouth flexes, and she feeds the knob into the right ring of muscle that guards the door. I gasp a little, I’m already sore from the first fucking, but she’s in.

       She shifts her hips and braces her legs. Below her, I’m trying to push against her and swallow the whole length. She twists the base of the dildo and I feel my ass clench around it as the vibrations start up again, the tip buzzing angrily inside me like a trapped bee. My pussy starts buzzing along in sympathy, the root of the cock humming against my clit. If she kept this up, I would cum soon –- cum from being fucked in the ass. Just thinking about how completely perverse that was almost put me right over right then.

       This was what I had always wanted afterall, and I was soon crying out for permission to cum as she glided it in. I arched my back, raising my head to voice a moan as she draped herself across my back and the cock burries into to the hilt inside me, her teeth closing softly over the nape of my neck.

       “Say you are mine.”

       “I’m yours, Mistress!”

       Beg me for it.”

       “Please, can I cum while you fuck me up the ass, Mistress.”

       

       The slow piston starts again and she’s thrusting, both of us lost in reverie, lost in sharing this sacred violation. She thrusts and I grunt like a pig with every jab. She thrusts, and I ride the wave of orgasm to its crest and cry out as she goes balls deep inside me.

Chapter 13

Sunday afternoon, I was hanging in the center of the punishment room by my wrists, as Mrs. Lucy enjoyed the view from behind. I was raised up on my tiptoes, but my cuffs were padded so I could take the weight on my wrists for a while without injury. My breasts were high on my chest and my ribs expanded as I was tractioned. My calf muscles were straining.

       It began as a leisurely process, starting with blows that were hardly more then a caress, and building in speed and intensity until I had to shut my eyes and I was whimpering through pursed lips. I had been paddled and strapped enough during the week to know that it would be easy to bear if I just relaxed into it, but my bonds forced tension into my muscles. I could only strain against them in my pain and endure the lash. Mrs. Lucy watched my face as she worked my breasts, belly and thighs, seeing resistance battle with surrender. The most telling blows fell where nature provided the least padding, and I was soon showing welts.

       She paused just long enough to take a hardened nipple in her mouth, suckling it entirely as I whimpered and leaned forward, presenting my breasts to her.

       “You know why I was kissing?” she murmured when she withdrew her mouth. “To make it more slippery,” she said, attaching a pair of cloverleaf clamps onto each nipple, the long chain that connected them dangling down between my breasts. “Mmmmmm,” she cooed, and I cried out as they were attached, my lips quivering.

       The soft caress of the strap returned, and I moved back to meet it as it found my ass once more. “Raise,” she said softly form behind me, and I tried my best to lift my ass into the air. This only made my pussy more available to her, and the strap licked down there as well.

       Eventually she paused again, but only to lift the chain and place it between my teeth, pulling my nipples up high in the process and stretching them. “Hold onto this,” she said, and resumed the spanking, every so often pulling my head back by my hair, the clamps pulling and tugging my nipples even more. These were the ones that tightened as you pulled, and no more how hard she tried to get me to pull them off, they only got tighter, and my juices flowed more liberally from between my legs.

       She paused again. “Piss.”

       I opened my eyes in shock. “Mistress?”

       She hit me again, hard across the ass and I yelped.

       “There is a floor drain between your legs. Piss.”

       She knew I had been holding it for while, but I was shy. She intended this as a deliberate humiliation, my most menial functions no longer to be private. She wasn’t into any weird bodily function stuff and neither was I. This was simply another stage of the humiliation, another way to exert her total control over me. She knew me in the most intimate way possible afterall, what more did I have to hide? She walked around behind me and lay another series of savage blows across my ass.

       “Piss!”

       The dam breaks. I spray a stream on the floor, red faced with shame. She uncoils a garden hose and douches me, hosing down the floor as well. I gasp when the gold water hits me.

       She shuts the water off and stands regarding me.

       I then feel the hard shaft push at my anus, the fake cock she was most fond off strapped to her hips and once again ready to enter me. I still sitll pretty sore from last night, and I clenched instinctively as she pushed forward.

       “Is that hesitation?” she murmured in my ear as she met resistance. With a quick slap to the ass, I relaxed instantly and the fake cock oozed into my backside. “No Mistress” I cooed as she slide it into me. “Please fuck me in the ass,” I yelped as she drove it home.

       The clamps, still dangling from my nipples, swayed wildly as the tempo increased and my Mistress began her slow rhythmic fucking. “Good girl,” she cooed again, nibbling at my neck as she pulled the chain downwards and I crept slowly upwards towards an orgasm. 

       “Beg me to cum with the cock in your ass,” she murmured into my ear as she nibbled the lobe and reached forward to play with my clit. It was enough to send me inexorably higher and I begged and pleaded for release, only to be silenced once more as the chain was placed into my teeth and my head tugged backwards again so that she could wring the most violent, explosive, mind-blowing and intense orgasm that I ever had from my sweat soaked body.

       When my body stopped quaking and shivering, the clamps were taken off and I was filled with three different dildoes. Once they were all buckled firmly into place in their respective orifices, I was given the strap for my earlier hesitation and danced about on my tiptoes as she worked me over, my cries silenced by the penis gag stuffed in my mouth.

       When her arm tired, the three dildoes were removed and I was down on my knees in front of her, the drain on the floor right under me. I knew what was going to be expected, and whimpered a soft “Ahhh!” as the clamps returned to my nipples. I wanted to cry out that they couldn’t take anymore, but whimpered again as she lifted and put the chain in between my teeth once more and bobbed the fake cock in front of my face.

       “Hold it up,” she warned, and I lifted my head to do as I was told, my nipples protesting as they were pulled up higher. “Open your mouth, and I want you to keep this cock over the chain,” she said, sliding the cock into my mouth and lifting the cock up and over to slide down to its base.  This tugged my nipples even farther, and I cried out from under the dock as she rocked her hips back and forth. “Use your tongue,” she commanded, and once again I did as I was told.

       When she had enough of that, the chain was placed back into my mouth and I was told to relieve myself again. “I’m going to count to thirty and you’re going to piss and keep going, or I’m going to punish that ass like never before.

       The countdown began, but she only needed to get to 15 before it began to flow.

               

       “Look at that,” she cooed. “It’s interesting what you can do when you’re under pressure isn’t it?”

       “Yes Mistress,” I mumbled softly, without letting the chain slip from between my lips.

       “What do you say?”

       I was numbed again by that point, but knew enough not to keep quiet. “Thank-you Mistress,” I crooned with the chain still in my mouth.

       “Pull harder,” she commanded.

       Gritting my teeth, I did as I was told, gasping out an “Ahh! Ahhhh! Ahhhh!” as I pulled.

       “I didn’t quite hear you,” she murmured, coming down to lift my head back.

       “Thank-you Mistress!” I finally cried out.`

Chapter 14

Throughout the next week, there were positions I learned to assume on command. “Stand for inspection” meant that I was to clasp my hands behind my head and spread my legs. The other to “Present” meant that I was to spread my legs and touch the floor. There were other poses, kneeling with my hands on my knees, or clasped behind my back or head, kneeling up with my ass off of my kneels and my back straight.

       All these postures were humiliating and served to enhance my availability and vulnerability. She would bark these command at random times, and I would be punished if I was slow to respond or carless in the arranging of my limbs. I was to keep my back straight and shoulder back, so that my breasts were thrust out.

       All that week she delighted in finding common household objects that could be put to new uses. She would roll ice cubes between her palms to melt off the sharp edge before inserting them into my anus, where they would ache until they melted, leaving me pleading for permission to use the toilet. I folded laundry wearing spring clothespings clipped to my nipples and labia.

       One day, she tied a piece of string between my ankles and had my walk up and down a flight of stairs (ass full, of course). She left a foot of slack in the line, so that I could take small steps without strains. I was overeager the first time I tried it; I stepped too high and broke the string. When I tried again, I had a glowing red ass to improve my concentration and a larger plug inserted to remind me to do better.

     

       Another day, once dinner was ready, she sat down and watched as I set the food on the table, admiring my young perky ass as I leaned over the table to set things down. I noticed the lust building in my Mistress' eyes as I prepared the table, and loved the attention.

       Suddenly, with a forceful voice, Lucy commanded me to climb up on the table.  I thought it strange, but I did as I was told.

       "Kneel right here in front of me, with your legs spread, and masturbate while I eat my dinner.  I want to see your pussy get wet.  I want to see you cum... and don't stop until I tell you to," she  said in rather irritated, yet lustful voice.

       As commanded, I spread her legs open wide, scooted up close to my Mistress' plate, and began to play with my cunt.  Quickly my pussy began to get wet and I began to get more excited as I performed on the table in front of my mistress.  Rubbing turned to fingering -- one finger turned to two.

       As my excitement built, Lucy stopped eating to watch and leaned back in her chair until I was on the verge of cumming.

       “Stop,” she ordered, and I knew enough not to disobey, and once the sensations had passed, she ordered me to start again.

       I did as I was told and resumed the stroking around my clit, soon to be followed by my fingers going inside.  I watched as Lucy stood in front of me, my fingers and this strange situation building my excitement once again. And once again, as I brought myself to the edge of orgasm and asked for permission to cum, I was greeted with a no and told to stop and lie back.

       So I laid back on the table with my legs opened, and waited.

       Suddenly, I jumped to the stinging slap of the light leather strap across my pussy.  I looked up between my legs in fright and was welcome with a sour grin. “Don’t stare at your betters,” my Mistress said. She came down with another pop on my pussy once again and I laid back on the table. It was all I could do to keep from clamping my knees together o prevent another strike.  The slaps hurt, but they also excited. I could feel the juices in my pussy begin to flow again.

       "So, you’re a nasty little slut, are you?" Mrs. Lucy asked.

       "Yes, Mistress, I am a slut.  Slap my nasty pussy and teach me a lesson," I moaned out, shocked at my own words as I was slapped four or five more times, driving me higher and wilder with excitement.

       POP!  POP!  POP!  Mrs. Lucy swung the strap down on my pussy lips and I squirmed my ass around on the table waiting for the next slap. Soon my eyes rolled back in my head and I began breathing heavily.

       At that moment, she suddenly stopped and leaned forward, burying her face into  my hot swollen snatch.  My pussy was on fire at this point, and her warm mouth was cool and soothing on the heat of me steaming cunt.

       Licking and sucking, Mrs. Lucy pushed me closer and closer to an intense orgasm.  I didn't require much at that point before I was ready to explode into wet climax, and I moaned and squealed as my Mistress’ talented tongue danced about my clit and pouting lips. I reached forward and gripped her hair instinctively as I felt myself reaching the top. My legs came together and wrapped around her head, pumping my pussy into her face again and again. When she reached up to pull on my nipples, I suddenly exploded,   gushing my juices into her mouth.

       Drained of energy, I went limp on the table as my Mistress rose up, wiping her hands on my thighs and licking her lips.        

       That night, Mrs. Lucy invited me into her bed and cuddled me under her arm until I slept. Of course, I wore the chastity belt and I had a little present tuffed into my rear, but I was in bliss. Before finally dozing off though, she whispered into my ear.

       “Tomorrow you’re going to get the real thing in that lovely ass of yours, and you’re going to wriggle and squeal for it.”

Pause-a-logue

I know what you’re thinking, that Mrs. Lucy was a total bitch, maybe some kind of predator and I was the prey. She was going to pimp me out tomorrow, afterall, and that wasn’t right was it? But it wasn’t like that, not at all. We spent plenty of time talking quietly by the fire. I enjoyed the way she cuddled me after a session, how she brought me down from the high and soothed me. It was comforting.

       Do I have to tell you that we had the most incredible sex too?

       She knew exactly what buttons to push and where to push them, and after that first ass fucking, I was allowed to cum without something in my backside. She wringed orgasms form me that left me positively weak in the knees, that had me seeing stars and crying out for more. Which she delivered, wringing them out of me until I couldn’t possibly take any more, despite being multi-orgasmic. Then she would make me cum again, and I thanked her for it and licked her fingers clean afterward.

       Mrs. Lucy wasn’t grim about punishment sessions either, even when I was getting something I deserved. She was a pro afterall and she could read me like a book and knew exactly when I had had enough, or when I could take just a little bit more. We had safe words and she took every precaution, at every stage I was allowed the right to refuse and call an end to the game. She never broke the skin or did anything irreparable, we had talked in great length about my limits and she knew when I was close ot breaking, and never went over the line. I was never tempted to cry out for her to truly stop the game.        

       As my affection grew, the choices became more and more unthinkable. So I often said nothing when I was blindfolded and bent over to be fucked. It was a harmless game.

       She also liked to talk, and there was a time when I was fastened to the bench with my ass glowing like a neon light and my anus stuffed with a hose, when it was surreal. Out of the corner of my eye, I was sneaking freightened glances at the plastic bag of full of blue foamy stuff she would be pumping up my ass later. The inflatable nozzle kept dripping on the tile floor, less I forget. All this time, she was yakking away like we were just two friends, talking about movies and recipes and all that happy crap

       We even talked at length about what was to come the next day, exactly who the bloke was she was going to let fuck my ass, and I even met him beforehand. Like a first date, we all sat down for coffee one night and went over the whole premise of what was to come, and I was fine with it.

       Where was I? Drifting again. I do that a lot. Anyway, the next morning I was on the bench, my buns blazing (so what else was new?). Mrs. Lucy had been working my ass with her hand, opening me up until three fingers were going in without much strain. I was getting nervous that she might be thinking fist.

       I had already measured that cock she was wearing. It was a real mouthful, and I knew that I was in for a long hard ride later that afternoon if she was preparing me this early. Of course, I was hoping she would put it where it belonged, but she stuffed my pussy instead, fucking me hard and fast until she came and I was left whimpering and unsatisfied.        

CHAPTER 14

That afternoon, I wore a pleated blue skirt that barely covered my ass. Above that, rough against my bare nipples, was a wool sweater. Where the school initials should have been, embossed letters spelled SLUT. I held a pair of pom-poms, a third with its handle formed in the shape of a large blunt cone, stuffed into my ass, that that it looked like an absurd bunny tail.

       Raising my pom-poms high, I shouted: “Spank me hard and fuck me up the ass!”

       Hands above my head, I called out: “I like to take it in the rear. Bone me! Bone me!”

       

       Kneeling between him and my Mistress, wearing my skirt and sweater, the bunny tail of my pom-pom tickling my cheeks, I kept my eyes down out of respect, but I had already learned the trick of seeing peripherally, and used a moment to glance at the same who would claim my anal virginity.

       He was tall and lean, his features strong and displaying the same implacability that I had learned to love on the face of my Mistress. The bulge that strained the seam of his pant leg suggested an organ of truly frightening proportions, and I was suddenly grateful for the thick plugs and training exercised that had prepared me for him.

       “Stand up, sweetheart,” he said gently. “Let me have a look at you.”

       I did not trust his kindly manner. It was a mask. There was cruelty lurking within. He planned to lull me with tenderness, and spring upon me when I was no longer wary. Yet his manner was seductive, and when he stroked my cheek with a strong hand, I leaned in, hungry for the affection it promised.

       His hands moved down to caress my throat. “You look lovely in a collar,” he murmured. He fractioned my nipples through the rough wool of my sweater, and they stiffened appreciatively. His hands circled my waist before he lifted my skirt to cup my mound and slip a finger into my slit.

       “She’s already wet,” he commented. “Do you cum from being fucked, or do you need to play with your clit?”

       “I have been permitted to cum only while my ass is used, Master, but I am capable, Sir”

       “I told you she was born for this,” said Mrs. Lucy behind me.

       He lifted my sweater, and I raised my arms and leaned forward so that he could slip it over my head. “I think you know that it isn’t your cunt that interests me.”

       “Yes, Master,” I replied. It came naturally to my lips, and my smiled as he tugged my skirt over my hips and I stepped out of it.

       “Present,” said Mrs. Lucy.

       I turned my back to him, spread my legs, and touched the floor with my legs straight. He grasped my bunny tail and twisted, twirling the plug inside me. I tightened against it. There was no chastity strap to hold it in, and it had been heavily greased. I feared that it would come shooting out of me. “There is a bow on my gift,” he chuckled. “Almost a shame to unwrap it,” he said, but twisted the tassel off the plug all the same, smacking my ass before pulling it out in one smooth motion and discarding the plug.

       “You’re tense,” he muttered, “Nervous?”

       “A little,” I admitted.

       “You should be. Tighten.”

       I clenched my muscles as tight as I could. “You’re well dilated. Open enough to take a cock easily, but tight enough to give a good ride.”

“Thank-you, Master.”

       He kept one hand planted firmly on my ass while he used the other to deliver one cruel slap. “That didn’t require a reply,” he said softly.

      

       I pursed my lips and clenched and swallowed my instinctive apology, thinking that silence was the best answer.

      

       He struck my other cheek. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

      

       “Sorry Master!” I quavered, curling my toes to contain the agony that made me want to kick and dance.

      

       ”I see many marks on your ass. Are you a bad slave?

       My mind was blank, numbed by fear. Or was it excitement? I could feel the lube, slippery between my cheeks as I knelt there between the two of them. It took all my courage to kneel there on the floor, and I knew instinctively that tonight would mark a turning point of some kind. I would enter a new phase of humiliation and terror. My abasement would be total. My limits would be tested. It was going to hurt.

       “No, Sir. I have been punished for pleasure.”

       Could I bare this? All I had to do was tell Mrs. Lucy that I wanted to leave. She had promised me that the door would always be open. Was it love, really, that kept me there, or only my raging hormones? Had I already passed the point of no return? Could I really ever hope to be happy with a normal life?

       I was brought out of my reverie when Mrs. Lucy handed me a box. It had no cover; I was meant to see the things inside. Several condoms, a tube of liniment, and another of lubricant, and inflatable plug, two pair of spring nipple clamps, a penis gag, and a collection of dildoes. Some were ribbed, some covered with warts, some were designed to vibrate of squirm, and all of them were thick.

       I was looking at my own torture, and as I moved to lay the items on a nearby table, I laid out the things that would make me moan and thrash.

       When the box was empty, Mrs. Lucy came over with the things I was to wear. I slipped out of my cheerleader uniform, and it was replace with a thick leather belt that was buckled tightly around my waist. There was no crotch strap with this one, only rings at the sides. Leather straps were buckled around my wrists and ankles and I was collared as well.

Everything else, all my tender places, were left bare, and she led me over to where a bolster was. “Bend over.”

       I was helpless in a matter of seconds. She clipped my wrists and ankles to the struts of the frame. My belt was snugged down until my spine arched. My legs were spread and pulled forward. My hands pointed at the floor. My chin rested in the little hollow that had been provided for it, tilting my head up. My breasts protruded through two holes in the top surface of the bench. Even though I was belly down, my nipples would still be available. The frame was designed to thrust my ass out and open it. The skin on my buttocks and thighs was stretched tight. I could wiggle a little, but I wasn’t going anywhere.

       On the wall to my left, a row of implements dangled from hooks -– paddles, whips, canes, leather straps. The table on my right held the instruments I had laid out only moments ago. I could see my reflection in the floor to ceiling mirrors that dominated each wall, my face flushed and slightly puffy from being lower than the rest of me, the twin moons of my ass rising behind. The girl in the glass bit her lip as she surveyed the array around me.

       I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was like sitting in a dentist’s chair with a paper bib around my neck, waiting for the doctor to arrive and make small talk while he hurt me. I wondered again at the foolishness that brought me here.

       The words brought me back to reality. “Would you like to enjoy her right away, or warm her up first?” asked my Mistress.

       Mr. Munroe chuckled. “I wouldn’t think of depriving her of the full experience,” he said. “Anyways, I know that you are itching to hear her scream and beg for it.”

       His cool fingers stroked my taut skin. “I see that you have a lot of area to work with. I hope your Mistress don’t take too long.” He patted my well-toned and full bottom, now a blank canvas, waiting for the artist to begin a portrait of pain. Her palette would be shades of red.

       Mrs. Lucy moved in front of me and stood looking at the closet wall, choosing her weapon. “We’ll start with a paddle, heat her up first.”

       The paddle was wood. I could hear it bump the wall as she lifted it from it’s hook. I looked straight ahead as she moved behind me, my eyes comically wide with fear.

       It sounded like a gunshot, and my first sensation was the thump of impact The sting followed. She struck again, on the other cheek, delivering another bright flare of stinging agony. I was too proud to let them see how much it hurt. I clenched my teeth and let the air hiss out of me.

       “She can really take it!”

       “I’m going easy until she gets more into the mood,” Mrs. Lucy explained. “She will be signing soon.”

       Her comment was for my benefit, of course. She wanted me to know that courage was useless here. Intense as it was, this paddling was only a prologue. After all, she had done the same thing before she took my ass herself the first time, and I resigned myself to the same fate as before.

       I stared at the mirror, seeing the outrage on my face. Anger is always my first reaction to a beating, even when I know I deserved it. All my training hadn’t banished that defensive reflex. I surged against my bonds in a futile effort to cover myself, fight back, rise up and run.

       The bench squeaked as a shifted and squirmed. Horror was creeping into my face, the certainty that I would be unable to bear this. My heart would explode. My lungs would collapse. I would spontaneously combust. My mouth was a frozen rictus.

       Lust rescued me. It always does. The steady popping impacts still scorched me, but the pain became bearable as the warm crept into my loins. Mrs. Lucy sensed the change, and paused to toy with my puss. I strove to impale myself on her fingers and the result was a shifting of my hips, a flexing of my knees and elbows, a lot of straining and frustrated gasping.

       “Poor little puss,” she taunted. “does it want something?”

       “Permission to cum?”

       She laughed. “Not freedom?” she asked. “How about a squad of policemen? Cab fare homes?”

       She was offering me another chance to end this, simultaneously reminding me of my options and narrowing the choices with deft fingers. She knew I couldn’t refuse the pleasure, no matter how frightened I was of the ordeals that were its price. Another smack on the ass followed when I didn’t answer right away.

       “Changing your mind?” she asked.

       “I thought it was too late for that, Mistress.” There was an edge to my voice, the spirit she couldn’t quite smother.

       She shook her head. “You have only to say the word, and it will all be over.”

       “No Mistress,” I murmured.

       The paddle fell again, hard. I yelped.

       “I can’t hear you!”

       I wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear, so I shouted out the first thing to enter my head. “Thank-you, Mistress. May I have another?”

       She gave me another, and another, and still more, until the eyes staring from the mirror were wide with shock and gleaming with tears.

       Her hand found my puss again, stoking the fire below even as the paddle continued to fan the fire above. “Permission to cum, Mistress!”

       “It’s much too soon for that,” she mocked. “Ask me for something else.” She used the paddle to put a period on the end of each sentence.

       “May I pleasure you, Mistress?”

       “Oh ho!” she guffawed, “You would like that, wouldn’t you? We could take a break, share a bit of wine. Maybe I would be sleepy afterwards and less inclined to finish this.” She returned the paddle for its place on the wall and took down a tawse.

       “Too much paddling will just make her numb. I need to use something a bit more extreme. Mr. Munroe, perhaps you would like to use her mouth before her ass?” She ran her fingers gently though my hair. I turned my head as much as I could, and managed to kiss her wrist.

       “Ask permission to suck his cock.”

       I asked. I was very sincere. I had slipped into a state of terrified bliss, prepared to endure any trial if I might be allowed to pleasure my evil Gods.

       Awareness of them both faded as a metal O-ring gag was pressed between my teeth and strapped around the back of my head, to keep my mouth open. My world narrowed to a sharp point of focus as the cock came into view, an organ that made me catch my breath with sudden alarm. It was much bigger than my Mistress’ strap-on; it was circumcised, and the head was large and red, like a ripe plum. The shaft tapered, thickening toward the root.

       “I would call that hesitation,” Mrs. Lucy noted from behind me, punctuated her remark with a few harder slaps to my ass.        

       I slurped it in, running my tongue around the head and down the shaft. Gradually, I took more and more of the cock into my mouth, Mr. Munroe’s hand holding the back of my neck as he finally pushed it all the way. The penetration was swift, I retched, and the pressure of his cock against the back of my throat almost brought tears to my eyes (or was that from the spanking? I couldn’t tell).

       I swallowed repeatedly, massaging the shaft and head of the cock with my mouth and throat muscles and this went on for several minutes, with not a word spoken between anyone. 

       “Look at me,” he growled.

       Lucy’s rhythm was steady by then; down from my waist where the skin was close to the bone; over the sweet spots, thicker flesh that rode the sting like a lover’s tongue; my thighs, stretched until the tendons and, tan and tempting flesh quivering between the knees I could not close.

       When the tail of the strap was clicking against my knee, she moved to the other side and traveled up. Her aim was incredible. The way it felt, each new stroke half lapped the one before, so that the burn was a slow wave washing over me.

       Several shots came from above, aimed into the crack. She used less strength when she worked my pussy, but nothing was spared, even my heaving breasts bore the brunt of the punishment.

       By this time, I was more or less hysterical, blubbering incoherently from around the cock in my mouth. Like most men, he wanted me to look up into his eyes as he fucked my mouth, and when I risked a glanced at the mirror, the face before me was daunting. My eyes were wide and distant. My cheeks were glazed by tears I could not wipe away or check. I was barking out hoarse, helpless cries each time the strap whistled in.

       I jerked as the lash laid small red stripes across my tender flesh and the cock worked itself in and out of my throat. Mrs. Lucy didn't strike me as hard as she could have, but pain was real, and the lashes were leaving red marks. My ass, thighs and calves soon bore criss-cross red stripes as I gulped and jerked on the cock, swallowing it down into my throat like it was the most natural thing I could do.

      

       Then I felt her hands on my blazing buns. Her fingers seemed cool by contrast, but I was sensitive, and even her tough scraped me like sandpaper. I think I could feel her fingerprints.

      

       “I believe her temperature is about right,” she crooned, leaning over me to speak into my ear.

      

       “And not a moment too soon,” Mr. Munroe chuckled as he withdrew his cock from my mouth and they switched places. I was hoo-hooing, not yet even fully aware that the thrashing had stopped, but I sensed her moving around me, until I could see her hang the taws on the wall and return to face me.

       “Look into my eyes,” she said, squatting down in front of me and removing the ring gag. “Don’t close them. I want to read every emotion that you feel when it happens.”

       I heard a ripping sound behind me as he opened a condom.        

       “I said look at me,” she murmured, stirring me back to reality.

       A pair of thumbs slipped between my cheeks as he gripped me, prying me open. I let all the air out of my lungs and slumped. I learned before that total relaxtion was my only defense.

       “Ask for it.”

       “Please, Sir, I want your cock in my ass, Sir.”

       “Since you insist.”

       Thick! I was quickly aware that I was being filled as I had never been before. Yet the pain was bearable. I had been prepared for this; otherwise he would have injured me.

       He oozed in slowly, letting me feel his length. The first flash of pain was fading now. I could loosen up enough to enjoy the soft -– hardness of him, the heat, so different from the plastic and steel and rubber that had dialated me. I could feel our shared pulse.

       “You want some more?” he said behind me.

       I nodded.

       “Ask for it.”

       “Please, Sir, can I have some more of your cock in my ass, Sir?”

       It was another pivotal moment, that final push and that final surrender. This was ritual degradation, being painfully, deeply fucked up the ass while my Mistress watched and I begged for it. My wail was inspired more by emotional release than pain.

       “You little slut,” she whispered into my ear. “That looks like pleasure in your face.”

       I could only “Ooohh!” and “Ahhh!” until at last he drove his taming point home and I felt his pubic hair tickling me, his balls thumping my puss.

       “Well, you have a cock in your ass.” He asked.

       

       “Thank, you Sir.”

      

       “How does that feel?” my Mistress asked.

       

       “Different, Ma’am.”

       “But it’s not bad,” she said in reply. “Because you have that fuck me look on your face.”        

       And he reversed. My tight channel seemed to close up behind his retreat, so that the next thrust, coming with more speed and energy, caught me unprepared. I yelped, and yelped again as he grasped my hips and began a steady rhythm.

      

       "UUGH! UGGHH! UUUGH!”

       Mrs. Lucy was delirious with pleasure, seeing the parade of shock and humiliation cross my face as it had before when she took me herself. “Thank him.” Her voice was raspy, as it had been before. “Tell him how much you love it.”

       I had been through this before with her, and knew my lines well. “Thank-you Master!” It came out as a croak. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I love how your big cock feels in my tight little hole!”

       Mrs. Lucy called it verbal crawling. The general idea was to debase myself, ask for the very thing I most feared, and flatter my Master or Mistress. She had taught me well. Even on the verge of hysteria, I wallowed and begged for more.

       “Please fuck me hard and deep, Master!”

       Mrs. Lucy was swimming in and out of focus, drifting away. The trestle creaked steadily. Reamed, cored, I could feel him where my belly met the bolster under my hips, pressing against the walls of my vagina. It wakened my hungry clit. I could see the blurred white of Mrs. Lucy’ grin. She could tell that I was beginning to quicken. “Go ahead,” she nodded.

       It was all I needed. A moment later, I clenched my fists and gasped out an orgasm. Mr. Munroe gasped too, feeling my grip on him go right as I spasmed. “So hot!” he moaned.

       I paid for my moment of pleasure. He never paused in his thrusting. My orgasm finished, I melted into the trestle and endured while he pounded away. He paused now and then, when he felt his own climax approaching, and remained deep in me. As he caught his breath, I could feel his sweat drip onto my back. He massaged my scorched bottom, re-awakening the stings of my welts. When he was rested, I would feel him swell again. “Beg for it.”

       Even as I recited my litany, I could feel my own heat began to build again, fueld by anticipation, and I only had to frame the question in my eyes to draw a knowing smile and an indulgent nod from my spellbound Mistress.

       “You fuck me so good, Master! Please do it again!” I meant every word of it. That’s how debauched I had become.

       He thrust deep and fast, while I warbled a riding note. Then he stopped suddenly, buried to the hilt inside me, and I could feel his shaft pulsing as he came. It was enough to make me soar over the edge for a third time, and with a nod from my Mistress I cried out again as my ass tightened around his cock and I milked every last drop from him.

       He unsheathed himself, and I could feel my anus gape and pucker, as though silently begging him to return. I rested, gulping air like a winded sprinter. When my vision cleared, my Mistress was there, “Was it good for you too?” she asked ironically.

       “Yes Mistress,” I confessed. “Thank-you Mistress.”

       She put a soda straw in a wineglass and held it for me while I sipped. It burned my raw throat, but it was warm in my belly.

       A little later on, Mrs. Lucy returned to move a barstool so that it was positioned under my chin. She unhooked my collar from the trestle and lifted by head gently by my hair. With  firm hand on my nape reminded me that I had work to do, her voice was husky. “Make it good.”

      

       Behind me, I felt an erection nuzzle the entrance to my anus. I opened for it.

       He lacked the finesse I had been treated to the first time and with the same zeal as before, moved into place. I was used now, no need for gentleness anymore. His cock was a relentless pistol, and I moaned into the crotch before me. They came at the same time and I rocked between her bucking hips and his pounding cock, gasping as the force of his thrusts drove the air out of me and the steaming puff smothered me.

       A little later on, I was still there when I felt an already rampant cock appear before me. “Make it hard,” he said. I opened my mouth and took the entire chocking length of him, while my Mistress took my puss from behind.

       Her strap on was a battering ram inside pussy, a bruising assault that had me barking each time she slammed it home. She would withdraw completely sometimes, then punch back in deep.

      

       Awareness became confused for me. She played patty cake on my ass as he jabbed my throat with his cock, all the while his large hands callously massaging my plump breasts. I whined and shrieked as she plowed her cock home inside me from behind and him from the front, while I gulped on the cock that two orgasms had failed to satisfy. I churned my hips from side to side, and she rotated his cock inside me, skewering me.

      

       My whining was soon silenced, however, as his discharge violated my pretty mouth. For a while, I was forced to swallow, then he removed his penis, only to let it spray the rest of his discharge onto my outstretched tongue. The cum slowly poured over my lips and cheeks as I was coated with the substance.

       It was all too much. Maybe it was oxygen deprivation, Mr. Munroe’s free hand that played with my clit as he pummelled my ass. Maybe it was the exhaustions. Whatever the cause, the room closed up like a telescope and everything went back.

CHAPTER 15

I was roasting on the Devil’s Fork, spitted like a hot dog at a cookout. I was held over the fire and the fork was huge and hot in my anus. My ass and thighs, the part of me nearest the flame, sizzled and blistered. I struggled with immovable arms and legs, unable to escape this impalement and drop into the purifying flames below. The smoke burned my streaming eyes and nose. I lifted my head, seeking air.

       The chain connecting my collar to the trestle snubbed taut.

      

       “Just the two of us now.” said Mrs. Lucy.

      

       I shook my head, banishing the nightmare, and traded it with another. She wasn’t entirely naked; the large pink dildo was still strapped around her waist and thighs, leaving her crotch open. The dildo was glistening with a mixture of lubricant and my own juices, and the taws was dangling from her fist. Under other circumstances, I might have found the sight comiccal.

      

       I became aware of fresh pains filtering up through the old. My nipples burned. Glancing down, I saw a small weight, like a fisherman’s line sinker swinging below the trestle. My nipples had been clipped and joined weight a weighted chain to increase the tension. Shifting my hips, I felt the pull of more weight dangling from my clipped labia. The pain in my bowels was too acute to be left over from the sodomy I had just endured. I had been stuffed with the inflating plug. She had pumped it up until my distended hold protested. It felt like a balloon in my bowels.

      

       “Please!” I whimpered. “I’m so sore. No more. Please!”

      

       She held up a penis gag. “Open wide, you simpering slut.” I hadn’t used the safe word after all, hadn’t truly been asking to be freed from my situation.

      

       While I choked on the thick erection in my mouth, she worked my pussy thoroughly and deeply with the strap on. Her fingers finding my clit and forcing me to loose control of my vaginal muscles and weakening my already depleted resistance, I surged upward as it advanced and she pushed hard, inching it slowly and deeply into my tight pussy.

      

       Then, with a deep, heavy "UUUUUUUUUGHHH!" my hips collapsed to the trestle as the implement reached its deepest insertion. She pulled the vibrator back hard and the tightness caused it to come back slowly. Then, with an intense effort she forced it back in, then back out, then back in. Over and over she plunged it in and out of my defenseless vagina. Like a piston, the vibrator pumped me higher and higher towards uncontrollable sexual devastation.

      

       I wasn’t given permission to cum.

      

       She took the clamps off eventually, but only so that the multi-thonged cat she was using at the time could lap my breasts and pussy unimpeded. She removed the plug as well, deflating it and ripping it out to make room for the dilso that ploughed my distended orifice.

      

       She rode me hard again, until that itch had been scratched and the augering prick became a torturing device.

      

       When she peeled me from the bench, I was a mindless, sobbing wreck. The sweat soaked leather clung to me as she took my shoulders and lifted me to a standing position. When she led me out of the room, I was unable to resist, and I shuffled forward until I was eventually deposited into Mrs. Lucy’ bed. Cuddled in her arms, my dreams came quickly.

CHAPTER 16

The next morning, she had a penlight out and was prying me open, probing gently and feeling around inside. “No real damage, but plenty sore I bet.” I heard her opening a jar beside me, and felt a cool balm being rubbed into my skin. She worked some of it into my sore rectum as well.

       “We’ll go easy on you today.”

       After breakfast, rather than stand over me with a whip, Mrs. Lucy sprawled in a chair and talked to me quietly as I stretched my stiff limbs.

       “You can check out of this, you know.

      

       I stood on my toes and reached for the ceiling. “I know,” I said softly.

      

       “You shouldn’t be down here being tortured by a pervert. You should be out there in the world, choosing a career, getting married. You don’t have some hopeless crush on me, do you?”

      

       “No Mistress,”

      

       She forgave the lie. “Then you must have some kind of suffering saint trip going, redemption through penance, some weird shit like that. Otherwise you would be beginning me to let you o instead of flashing that sly, beatific smile that makes me want to grow a cock and fuck you.”

      

       “Sorry, Mistress,” I slipped in a smile, to let her know I wasn’t really. I sensed that today was a sort of time out from the game, and the usual rules might be bent.

      

       “That’s what I’m talking about, you saucy imp! You’re supposed to be quaking and cowering by now, instead of teasing me when I’m trying to talk to you. Do I have to put you over the bench again to make you listen? Spread your legs and tough your toes.”

      

       “Sorry, Mistress.” This time I was. I expected her to hurt me now, but she stayed in her seat.

      

       “You know there isn’t any prize for passing? The game is an end to itself.”

      

       “It’s not a game for me, Mistress.”

      

       “She looked intently at me. I could see her, upside down between my legs. “I guess when you’re striped like a zebra and fucked silly, things can seem pretty serious all right. You’re tougher than you look, but don’t let it make you reckless. Consider your choices carefully.”

      

       “Yes, Mistress. Thank-you.”

      

       She sighed. “Stand up.

      

       She wasn’t going to use me today. She was in the mood, but after last night I think I earned a time out. I stood at attention while she connected my cuffs to my collar in front, keeping the chain short enough to prevent me from playing with my nipples. Masturbation would continue to be an impossible dream, but at least my hands were more comfortable in that position. She shackled my ankles again and spread a futon on the floor for me to lay on as she relaxed.

      

       “Next week, I’ll teach you some new tricks.”

      

       It sounded vaguely like a threat, but I was a contended puss.

Chapter 17

It hadn’t been a threat, more of a promise, and the next time I showed up at her door, it was one that rang true.

       Naked with my legs spread and hands at the back of the neck, I waited as my Mistress prepared for the day’s events, commenting that how I had gotten a day off the last time I was here, I would need to make up for it somehow.

      

       “And I have just the way,” she murmured from across the room.

      

       “I know how much of a slut you are,” she whispered into my ear when she returned, a finger dipping down into my pussy to confirm the wetness that was there. “But let’s see if you’re a painslut.”

      

       For a moment, I was confused, but she didn’t let that last for very long.

      

       “There are twelve implements laying on the table. You are to look them over and decide which order you wish to receive them. Place them in order, one to twelve, starting at the left. You will be receiving a minimum of twelve whack with each of them, more if I think you deserve or even need them. For some, you’ll be required to count the whacks out loud, and if you mess up it will be restarted. At the end of each turn, you will thank-me, and in between each you'll suffer pleasurably. After a hard implement, it will be soft. After a softer one, I’ll be more gently and loving. You may not orgasm unless you’re told to, no asking for permission. Any questions?”

      

       “No Mistress,” I almost sobbed, my bottom lip quivering.

      

       “Good, then I’ll give you a few minutes to decide.”

      

       Turning, I went over to the table, and regarded the items there with a strange mixture of fear and fascination. The combination gave me a buzz, a thrilling rush of excitement that was exhilarating and the little speech, while frightful sounding, had only made me wetter between the legs. The logic in my brain was gone, I couldn’t think. It was difficult to process the task in front of me, I was in a zone where all that existed was feeling and sensation, and before the spanking even began, the idea of arranging the implements seemed absurd. Why bother? Any order would do. Just spank away! The marks on my ass had already been fading, but I was almost too eager for new ones.

      

       I almost laughed at my predicament, then I was the wooden paddle and those thoughts ceased. There was no doubt it was probably the most brutal implement before me, long, heavy and thick. I winced as I thought of it being applied to my ass, but it was nothing I hadn’t experienced before. I placed the birch paddle to the far right. It would be number 12.

      

       I arranged the rest rather quickly, the decisions seeming natural as I alternated between hard and easy ones. Yet I was still unsure, as many of them were new and foreign to me. How much pain could a spanking with a feather cause? What was the point? I almost started to laugh again, not so much from the humour of it but from my nervousness. I reached down to chase away any thoughts I had of leaving and as I regained my self-control I noticed that Lucy had come up behind me.

      

       “So I see you want to feel the flogger first. A very good choice I should say. But first let’s get the target a little more ready, shall well? After all, an ass that is heated up too rapidly may crash and burn whereas slowly tempered flesh rises to a flaming peak of pleasurable pain.”

      

       It was a lesson I had already learned during the first two weeks, and her hands massaged my bottom as she returned me to the middle of the room. Her hands were warm and they felt good as she kneading and rubbed my pliable cheeks.

      

       “Open,” she breathed, holding up red rubber ball that had several straps attached to it. I had to open wide to accommodate its size and she buckled it behind my head, with another reaching under my chin.

      

       “Spread,” she ordered, as if she even had to by now. I knew the drill, and as my hands were cuffed behind my back and I was bent over at the waist, I spread them as much as I was able to. She clipped the a ring to the chain that connected the cuffs together to a rope that had been dangling from a pulley in the ceiling, and as she pulled on something unseen my hands were raised high in the air behind me. Higher and higher they were pulled until I was up on my tiptoes, my shoulders pulled back uncomfortably and my ass up and out in the air.

      

       As I settled into my new vulnerability, any more thoughts of escape or putting at end to the game evaporated, and my tightly strung emotions were back in check even as little clamps were placed onto each nipple. I whimpered loudly through the gag as each one took hold, and groaned even louder as a little weight was attached to the end of each and they produced exquisite pain once gravity took hold.

      

       “Now little girl,” she cooed. “Let’s begin!”

      

       The first few strokes were soothing almost, cooling as her hand made contact with my bum. I had chosen the flogger for my first instrument of pain, but she had promised to warm me up first and she made good on that. I cried out with each shot, gagged and unable to call them out but grunting loudly each time her hand slapped my ass. “Mmmmm!” she cooed until my ass was nice and red.

      

       The first few strokes of the flogger had much the same effect as her hand had, and they were like a soft, gentle caress on my bum. By the time she started with it, my ass even moving back to meet the thin rubber tassels, but as the flogging continued, the whacks became progressively harder, setting the precedence for each item to come. By the twelfth stroke landed a heavy thud, I was experiencing a taste of the pain I craved. There was no doubt I wanted more, and my pussy was sopping wet.

      

       Throwing the flogger aside, Mrs. Lucy immediately mounted me and I gasped as I felt her strap on slide effortlessly inside my steaming vagina. It was like a fullness unlike any other I had experienced, and I moaned loudly from under the gag with joy. Incoherently and without fear that I could be properly understood, the words flowed out from under the gag. “Fuck me, Mistress, fuck me!” My breasts bounced back and forth and my nipples burned as the weights went with them, but I was lost as an orgasm began to rise.

      

       Soon she was bucking as a climax took hold of her, but before I could have one of my own she pulled out quickly. “Not just yet,” she cooed before moving off and I almost growled under the gag. All that I knew at that moment was the feeling inside me, nothing else existed and I had been so close! 

      

       She returned to tie a small length of rope into my ponytail, and I whimpered loudly when it was pulled back and tied to my wrists that were still hanging high above my head. Stepping back behind me, the next implement did little but stir the passion inside me even more. A fly swatter, it gave me a novel sharp stinging sensation which caused me to whimper and delight, even when it was used on the more tender parts of my body.        

      

       Up next was a silk tie which had a surprising snap to it, but I was lost as her fingers found my aching clit and she worked them both with ease. It didn’t take much and I was right up to the edge again, trying my best not to spill over it, until I heard her softly say “Go ahead.”

      

       That was all I needed and I swooned as the powerful wave hit me.

      

       “Turn around,” she said once I had come back to my sense.

      

       My legs hadn’t be bound so I did as I was told, making sure to spread my legs once more as I turned to face her so that she could remove my gag. “You’re going to count now,” she cooed before moving back behind me.

      

       It was a leather riding crop this time, and as I counted for each smack on the ass, it only whetted my appetite for more. Even when she used it on the chain to my nipple clamps to get them to swing about, I only moaned some more.

      

       “Shake them off,” she commanded.

      

       With only a second’s hesitation I wiggled my chest as much as I could, the clamps pulled even tighter as the little weights swung about madly. The pain wasn’t intense, the clips she had chose were like little rubber mouths that bit down on my nipples, but with the added weights they were giving me something to think about for sure. When the little clips wouldn’t come off, I was persuaded with a few more slaps from the riding crop and I wriggled about with more earnest.

      

       “I’m getting bored,” she finally said. “Turn around.”

      

       My ass stinging, I did was I was told and she came back a moment later with a length of rope. Tying one loop snuggly around my waist, she let the rest dangle between my legs for a moment as she tied it off in a knot. I knew what was to come even as she took a hold of the second piece and I whimpered as the rope was passed through my pussy lips and up through my cheeks, before being tied off to the same rope as my wrists were attached to up above me. “Up, up, up,” she cooed. I was already on my tiptoes by that point, but now my ass was lifted higher.

      

       The rubber ball gag was replaced, and as the black leather paddle connected with my ass, I almost screamed and I squirmed helplessly. “That’s it,” she called from behind. “Dance for me,” she said as she changed her technique and there was no pause between the next 11 whacks. They came in brutal succession and the stinging was soon replaced with a burning. Even with the drool that pooled around my gag, I was suddently thankful for it, as there was no way I would have been able to count those with any sense.

      

       Fortunately, I had chosen a light implement for #6. It was a plastic wand topped with strands of soft horsehair, and after the 12 whacks had been delivered my Mistress lovingly brushed it over my hot blazing red butt. Never had I felt anything so incredibly soothing. The pain was replaced with a softness so embracing it felt like my cheeks were laying on a fluffy cushion, and when Mrs. Lucy reached down between my legs it was all I could do not to cum right there and then. “Go ahead,” she whispered into my ear, and with a sweet release the dam broke and I cried out through the gag the second orgasm of the day flowed through me.

      

       When I came down off my high, I was released and moved onto the floor. Hands still cuffed behind my back, the crotch rope had been removed and instead replaced with a bra made of rope. Two loops wound around the front and back, one above and one below my breasts, with another strand in the front lopped in between those to go up behind my shoulders and tied off to the back. The whole thing was tied off into one enormous knot at the back.

      

       I was laid on my front, with my legs once again spread and Mrs. Lucy tied off my ankles cuffs to a ring in the floor behind me. When the rope that was attached to the knot on my back was pulled taut, my upper body was raised off the floor. When my wrists cuffs were tied off to a similar rope and pulled as well, my head went back and I rose up a little more so that I looked like I was doing the backstroke.

      

       My mouth was filled with a metal spider gag, which was essentially a different kind of O ring gag, but with four hooks on the side that pinched your cheeks and made you constantly stick your tongue out.

       

       I welcomed the new position with a hand spanking, after all it took some time to get settled in and Mrs. Lucy didn’t want me to be without a warm up.

      

       Of the next three implement spankings, only two were of the light variety, the foxtail and the peacock feathers. I almost smiled around the gag in my mouth for the first two, as I enjoyed the soft, sensual spankings with those items that felt lighter than air.

       Since the foxtail was rather light, Mrs. Lucy fucked me with a dildo while it was administered. “Something to keep you occupied,” she had said. I wasn’t allowed to cum, and it was left inside afterwards. Before number #8, my head was pulled back as she had done before by my ponytail, my shoulders aching, and again she played with my puss while she used the feather. Again, no permission was given, even as I pleaded and begged to cum.

       The last was a flogger though, and I cried out under my gag as 24 smacks were delivered, the last half of them coming down on my pussy and my tongue shooting out with each one. The drool really started to flow then, and joined the eve growing pool under my chin. She had started on my ass, but when she moved to strike between my legs, the dildo still nestled deep inside me started to squirm, and it was all I needed. “You may cum.”

      

       And I did, the straps from the flogger finding my engorged clit and swollen lips. It was all I needed and by the 12th slap to my pussy I was cumming in earnest from only a flogger. 

      

       You might have figured it out by now, but when I came down from my latest orgasm, the sudden determination hit me. She was going to play with me at her own will; before, after and even during each spanking, but I was only going to cum after three turns.

      

       When I came down from my high, I was moved again. In similar bondage to the last, I was hanging off the floor, my back arched, wrists and ankles tied to the same length of rope in the middle and pulled up until they joined and I formed the shape of a strung bow, and clothespins were applied to my nipples this time.

      

       My ass got the belt for number ten, and after counting to 12 it worked it’s way between my leg, slapping away down there softly until I had reached the count of 24. Her fingers found their way inside my aching puss once she dropped the belt, but she moved them to my mouth once I had been brought up to the edge again.

       The clothespins were replaced by the same clips from before, their little weighted companions dangling underneath me and tugging down at my nipples.

       The cane was next and as I counted out those too, it served to intensify my appreciation for the pleasures and pains of a disciplined spanking. There was no doubt by the time I reached the count of 12 that I was now a devotee, even as I was fucked hard by Mistress Lucy’ strap on and the clips biting down on my nipples began to dance.

       The last items was the heavy birch paddle, and the first few whacks were gentle enough but as the spanking built to a final crescendo, the shock was felt deep inside my buttocks. The pain became a dull numbness, and I was submerged in the depths of subspace, where pain no longer existed. It was experienced as the pure consciousness of pleasure.

       As the spanking finished, my Mistress mounted me once more time. The fucking was as hard and as fast as her legs could give. There was a baseness to the sex, a raw fulfillment of primal desire. I was being fucked good and proper now, my heavy breathing, the grunting, the sweating and moaning all driving her on to go even more, until she reached down between us and the vibrations began. It was enough to send me into a flurry, and moments later when she gave me permission to cum and the biggest orgasm I had ever had flowed through me.

Chapter 18

A promise made was a promise kept, and the next visit to Mrs. Lucy emphasized that fact.

       Evidently, during one of our earlier conversations, I had talked about having a high endurance. I had run marathons and cross-country in the past, and became really good at knowing my limits and how long I could go beforehand.

       “We’re going to test that out,” she told me that afternoon, and as we entered the punishment room I noticed a contraption of ropes on the floor beside a device in the middle of the room.

       “We’re going to give you your fix for the week. I hope you trust me.”

       “I do,” I replied. “Mistress.”

       “I hope that’s not unfounded. We’ll see.”

       The device was essentially U shaped one bolted to the flow, with straight edges and made out of wood and leather with flat saddles on the top of each curve. Kneeling on top of it, I was at waist height. My legs were strapped down, one below and one above the knee and my ankles as well. The tops of the U were exactly the length from my knee to my toes. Hands were tied behind my back, with leather straps wound above and below my breasts to secure my elbows and arms. A ball gag was stuffed in my mouth, the same one as before but with straps not only below my chin and behind my head, but two also that went up and over it to the back. A rope was tied off to my wrist cuffs and attached to a pulley in the ceiling, but it hung loose for now.

       “To warm you up.” Mrs. Lucy warned before I felt her hand on my ass. It was no surprise we were going to start this way, and as it had been a couple of days since our last session, my ass wasn’t entirely raw so she wasn’t entirely gentle with the spanking. When her other hand reached around to play with my pussy, I was crying out under her gag and once more begging to cum when she pressed her thumb into my clit and worked it.

       “Hah, I don’t think so,” she cooed. “You haven’t earned it yet.” The spanking continued, and when her free hand left from between my legs and the cloverleaf clamps were applied to my nipples, I felt the awful caress of a flogger on my backside. It found its way between my legs too, and as I moaned between the grunts and the cries, I was told “No” again.

       When the paddle came, she alternated between spanking and finger my slit, and once I was sobbing lightly from the spanking she finally relented and with permission, I came in her hand, my juices flowing out of me like a hose it seemed.

       Some time later, I was back down on the floor kneeling face down. A wide spreader bar had been attached to the leather cuffs around my ankles, and my wrist cuffs had been attached to a ring in the middle of it to pull my arms between my legs.

       Grabbing a handful of hair in one hand, Mrs. Lucy took me from behind and I mewled and groaned around the spider gag. “Too irresistible,” she had said before driving the thing home inside me. I could only imagine how I must have looked with my ass up in the air and my wrists tied between my legs, and it took her no time at all before she reached orgasm and pulled out before I could even come close.

 

       The cool feel of the lube brought me back to the present as her fingers worked my anus, and the even colder feel of the round metal hook that she inserted into me had my instantly aware once again. “Ugh!” I groaned as it went in deep. “Mmmmmm!” I whimpered loudly when she tied my pony tail off to the end of the hook, my head pulled back and the hook pushed inside me deeper.

       She then tied another dangling piece of rope, one that lead to the pulley in the ceiling and could be pulled up high, around the short one that now connected my hair to the hook in my ass. With a yank, my back arced and I really began to squeal.

       “Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhh!” I moaned, rolling, slightly back and forth.

       “Oh god, oh god, fuck fuck fuck, please please please, no! “ I cried, finally falling forward when my knees gave out. “Please, please, please let me go,” I cried, rocking on my heels, my chin on the floor.

       It was a good thing I was only wearing the spider gag and not a ball or another one, as my knees had given out after having been on them for so long, both during this and earlier before, and it was more than I could take. Realizing my predicament was more than just the normal pleading, I was lowered and the hook removed.

       “Wow, it really dug in.”

       Still restrained, I was turned onto my back, my arms and legs up in the air now.

       “How is that?” she asked.

       “Much better,” I moaned.

       “What do you say.”

       “Thank-you, Mistress.”

       The rope from the pulley was then attached to the spreader bar, and once it was pulled taught I was rolled onto my lower back, legs and hands higher in the air and totally open and exposed now.

       “Make it ready,” she said softly as the shape of a long, rubber dildo came into view and rested on my already outstretched tongue. I lapped at it eagerly, and when she pushed it passed the metal ring that held my mouth open, I made loud gurgling noises as she fucked my throat with it. With my head on the floor, I couldn’t do much but gurgle as she fucked me with me.

         Once I had it good and wet, which took no time at all since the gag had me constantly drooling, she pushed it between my legs and into my waiting pussy. It didn’t take her long to get me up, but before I could cum she had it back in my mouth, my own juices now mixing with the saliva that pooled in my mouth. She fucked my throat again with it as though it were a real cock, and I had no choice but to wiggle my tongue around the base as she pushed it in deep. I knew how to suck one properly, afterall.

       When she got bored with that, she fucked my pussy with it again and alternated a few more times between my mouth and crotch before finally letting me explode. I thanked her profusely, and she left it vibrating inside me while she took a break. “I’ll let you stew for a bit,” she said as she withdrew to busy herself elsewhere for awhile.

       It didn’t take me long to get back up again, but knowing better I tried to hold off the surge until she came back to give me permission. I don’t know how long it had been, probably only minutes, but I came hard when she returned and I saw her nod. I came again really hard some time after that, my body shaking uncontrollably as the spasms worked their way through to my core.

       Instead of releasing me from my bondage, Mrs. Lucy had merely taken a seat upon her return and left me to my own devices on the floor, as it were.

      

       A little while later, I was standing in the middle of the room, naked save for a pair of leather wrist and ankle cuffs and a collar around my neck. Bent over at the waist with my hands behind my back, my collar had been secured by a short chain to the one connecting my ankles together, which made it impossible to stand.

      

       “If you ever want to get up, you’re going to have to please me.”

      

       The cane to my right ass cheek emphasized her words. They were reinforced on my calves, then on the backs of my legs and my thighs, and punctuated on my left ass cheek.

      

       “Dance,” she cooed.

      

       Hobbled and bent over, I did my best to shuffle in a tight circle, wiggling my ass in the air as the cane always found its mark.  My poor legs quivering as I struggled with the position, I continue my poor circle dance as she worked me over until she saw my legs begin to shake.

      

       “Stay,” she ordered.

      

       I was rewarded with a rubber clamp on each nipple, but not before my hanging breasts were slapped to get them heated and ready. A small chain connected them together, and she pulled on it gingerly before returning her attention to my heated ass.

      

       When my cries were too much, I was rewarded with a ball gag in my mouth.

      

       When she couldn’t make out my muffled please, she switched to something else.  “Was that a complaint I hear? If you'd like I can remove your gag and I'll listen to any greivance you might have.”

       I shook my head no. Profusely. I wasn't about to make things any worse for myself.

       When she thought I had enough again, I was rewarded with a rubber strap.

      

       “Maybe I should just carve my name in your ass,” she said between swings. “That way everyone will know exactly who you belong to.”

      

       The strap continued, making pretty X’s all across my thighs and my pretty ass.  It even found its way further inside to my pussy, and she went until my bare lips were red too.

      

       “You want it to stop?” she asked, punctuating her words with a few hard slaps that really made me jump. “You need to beg to get fucked. Beg for a cock in your ass and I’ll stop.

      

       The strap returned to my ass then, and when it was felt that I had had enough of that, she finally slipped her strap-on into my waiting anus, but not before making me beg for it some more. Beg to be fucked in the ass while she made my ass red. I’m not sure if even she understood the muffled requests and probably incoherent pleads that came out from under the gag, but when she slid the cock in, I thanked her with a loud grunt.

      

       It was bigger than her usual one, she even let it rest on my back beforehand so that I could feel it.

      

       “That’s it, take it,” she squealed as she started pounding. “You like that invading your ass?” she asked as it went in deep and faster.

      

       She fucked me good and proper until my legs finally gave out, and we found the limits of my endurance.  

Chapter 19

A promise was a promise, and the next day when I showed up at her door with my ass still very much heated under the skirt I wrote, I was going to be taught another new trick. A hand spanking was all that I required for the heat to boil, and then it was off to the room.

       I was laying on the floor, naked of course and on my back, blindfolded. My wrists had been tied together with rope and they were behind (well under) me, an uncomfortable position until Mrs. Lucy lifted my legs and tied my ankles above my head, to little D rings that had been set a foot above and one to  either side. This brought my back and bum up off the floor, my knees resting near my shoulders, my pussy and ass sticking straight up in the air.

       I couldn’t see my predicament in any of the four wall mirrors that circled the room, but I knew I was more open and exposed than I had ever been before, in this new position. It was like having both your ankles and wrists tied to the bedposts while you laid in bed, the ultimate “fuck me position”.

       “I hope you’re ready to have the best fucking orgasm of your life,” she teased, no doubt peering down at me between my open legs.  I shivered in anticipation. “Of course, you have to earn it first.”

       When she removed the blindfold, I was left looking between my breasts at my bare crotch, which was just inches from my nose, and sopping wet.

       “Remember, I like a girl to see what’s coming,” she cooed.

       I felt before I could see, the single tail flogger coming down between my legs. I let out a small yelp, and closed my eyes for an instant before being rewarded with another slap. “What did I just say?”

      

       More slaps followed, and I struggled to keep my eyes open as she worked the devilish thing between my legs. It was stingy, but the feeling didn’t last and I was “Whooo Whoooing” in no time. It was intense, like caning, but different, and when she switched to my ass I was grunting in earnest while I watched my tan cheeks turn to a soft red.

       It was a new lesson in humiliation, being forced to watch whatever she was going to do to me. Up until now, I had been the performer, if you would. Most of the action went on behind me most times, and while I could see my reflection and watch from a third person perspective as things went on, I wasn’t really an observer, often lost in my own little world and not a true spectator to the show. I was the one up on stage, giving the performance, feeling everything that went on rather than seeing it all.

       But now, I had a front row seat.

       And when Mrs. Lucy knelt down beside my head, told me to open up and placed the ball gag into my mouth and then buckled it in tight… I knew I would going to get a good show.

       “What you need is a good ass fucking like that,” she said, standing and moving around behind me. “But not until it’s completely red.”

       I could only moan (maybe even whimper a bit, too).

       I saw them before I could feel them first, of course. The paddle, the taws, the flogger and the cane. She held them up before each had their own turn, but by the time she was finished with the first, I no longer felt like I was in the front row for the show. I was up on the stage, watching the show from a more personal distance, getting up close and personal with the band as the performance went on.

       The paddle was just a warmup, to get me ready. The taws and the flogger the main course, and the performance was masterful as I looked on and saw res striped appear on my ass and thighs. The cane was an encore, a way to end the show with an exclamation mark, and while there were only a few strokes, it had the intended effect and I yelped with each one as they made contact.

       Next she slapped a pink dildo with balls down on my pussy, causing me to cry out and lurch my body. It didn’t actually hurt, it was more the sensation and being caught unaware that shocked more than anything. I had wondered off a little by that point, afterall.

       She slid the dildo all around my sensitive pussy, pushing me close but never hitting the spot that would have set me off. “I bet you want this inside?” she cooed.

       I nodded. I was so horny at that point she nearly sent me into spasms.

       “Hrmph,” she moaned, pulling it away.

       I saw them first, the jelly beads almost the size of golf balls, as they were dangled above my nose. “Open up,” she commanded. “Get them wet, because you know where they’re going to go.”

       I opened up as each one was offered, sucking them like a peach and trying my best to get them thoroughly lubricated with my saliva, and when she thought they were good and ready, she let them dangle above my ass, the first one resting on my anus so that I could feel and see them.

       Then she began to ease one into my ass. I closed my eyes despite the warning and clenched my teeth as she popped the first bead in, and once again was rewarded with a hard slap on the ass.  I quickly opened them back in time to see the second one go in, and the third. By the fourth bead, I was starting to sweat, but this was nothing I hadn’t experienced before. Two more went in and I was panting by the end and all there was left was a small string left dangling.

       Then I saw it again first, the small light flogger, and I was mewling under the gag as it lapped between my legs to find my moist lips. My clit, which had long ago come out of its hood by then and was engorged, raged as the flogger found it too. I panted and squirmed, unable to get away, as it came down time and time again, making me groan not just from the pain – which was considerable but an entirely different sort -- but the intense shivers that began to work their way through my body.        

       When I was almost bawling, the next thing I knew, Mrs. Lucy was putting the dildo in my pussy. The vibrations started then too, going deep inside me, and I was purring like a kitten and sweating like a pig. In moments, I wanted nothing more than to cum and it wouldn’t take much longer.

       As Mrs. Lucy made the dildo vibrate inside me, she started to wiggle the beads around, sending me into a fit.

       “So slave, tell me how badly you need to cum,” she said. Shit, she was driving me insane!

       I mewled and pleaded under the gag, begged incoherently that I needed it so bad. I whined that I wanted to cum, begged and grovelled for it and must have looked quite a mess at that point. With matted hair, wide wild eyes, flaring nostrils and gritted teeth chomping down on a ball gag in my mouth. I watched as Mrs. Lucy lifted the vibrator and brought it between my legs, holding it just away from my clit.

       “Okay slave, time to cum,” she whispered back and placed the vibe on my my clit.

       The effect was instantaneous. I think I screamed as all the muscles in my body seemed to lock up and my pussy tightened up so much that it pushed the dildo up and out. I was lost in the throws of my orgasm when Mrs, Lucy grabbed the ring at the end of the anal beads and began pulling each one out, one at a time, each one causing my pussy to clench and prolong the most intense, insane orgasm ever.

       My eyes lost focus as I became one giant ball or orgasmic energy. It was such an intense, mind blowing release that it was almost painful, but in an oh so good way. I’m not sure if people were supposed to cum that hard, and I was glad that I kept myself in good shape because my heart probably would have stopped if I wasn’t.

       I don’t know how long it latest because at some point, I was totally unaware. When I opened my eyes again, Mrs. Lucy was there. The gag had been removed and replaced with her mouth, her tongue slipping between my lips. 

       When she pulled back and smiled, I felt a wetness on my face and chest and thought for a moment that she had drooled on me or something. The confused look on my face was question enough. “That was from you,” she smiled. “You came like a fucking fountain,” she grinned. “I think you earned a good ass fucking.”

       When she returned, strap-on in place, she squatted down over my head so that I could make it ready first. I could only move my head from side to side, and had nowhere to go as she slipped it into my mouth and down my throat as far as my position allowed. When it was good and wet, she squatted down over my ass, and dived in as it were. I watched, from my front row seat, as the cock slipped inside with a pop, and my moans filled the room as she began to pound away. Her fingers were busy too, one hand to pinch my nipples and the other to play with my clit, and we came at the same time.

       Later, walking proved difficult because my legs were so wobbly and weak, but when I stepped into the shower and felt that refreshing spray cascading over my body, it revived and strengthened me.  I wasn’t alone, of course, and Mrs. Lucy didn’t let me do anything but stand there while she washed every inch of my body. She took her time, too, slowly scrubbing me from top to bottom and paying particular attention to my ass and pussy. I yelped when the sponge found my blazing ass and moaned when it slipped between my legs.

       Mrs. Lucy even got down onto her knees as she worked her way down my legs and finished with my feet. I watched her from above while my conflicted brain tried to make sense of everything, and it was these little moments that forgave all the rest.

       

Chapter 20

A promise still kept, the next day we were going to go out on a little adventure.

       Showered and freshly shaved, I showed up at her door wearing a black mini dress that showed off every curve. The plunging neckline showed off my assets and pushed them together and it ended just below the curve of my ass. I didn’t even want to think about bending over.

       Standing there sans any undergarments, I suddenly felt very naked and vulnerable.  The moisture between my legs had been building up and I had tingles in my breast from the fabric  brushing across them.

       “You look good enough to eat,” she grinned after opening the door. “It’s too bad we’re going out though, because I would cook your little buttocks for dinner."

       "Maybe you still should," I whispered without intention or thought. "If that's what you like for dinner."

       Her face lit up with the most curious of expression. “Ha!” she said in reply. “You’ll pay for that later.”

       Twirling me around with ease, she rubbed my bottom through the skirt and I could already feel my ass tingle.  I could feel my body heating up, the moisture building between my legs and my face reddening. “But for now we have reservations.”

       On the way to the restaurant, the vibrations of the car did nothing for the

ache in my loins.  It was an agonizing few minutes but soon we had arrived at the restaurant. When we were out, my legs could hardly function.

       We were seated across from each other, face to face, and once we were into our meal I felt her bare foot sliding up my legs and between my thighs. I had to adjust myself slightly by opening my legs wider and pushing myself slightly so she could reach her intended target, my bare pussy. I knew better than to make it difficult for her to reach, and besides, with my earlier pertinence I knew I could expect a good licking later and didn’t want to make it any worse.

       She ran her toes into my wet slit and I gasped, finding it difficult to focus enough to even pick my fork up to my mouth and chew. What was happening below the table, in a restaurant filled with people, was wrong on so many levels, but it felt incredible and I didn’t want it to stop. 

       "Just so you know,” she said, bringing me back to the present. “I was going to be nice, and you were in store for one hullava night. But now, before it’s over, your bottom will be raw.  And that's IF you behave," she chuckled as she noticed the shock in my eyes.  I looked around the room, wondering if anyone was watching me.  Her toe nudged inside me and I I gasped an “Oh, oh god!” as she grinned even wider.  Embarrased eyes flew to a young man who was watching us with obvious recognition of what was going on.

       The butterflies made it impossible to eat. Face flaming, she commented on how wet I was, and I just nodded.  "Little slave," she said quietly, "I want you to stick your finger inside yourself and show me."  If I wasn't wet enough before, I most certainly was after that.  I blushed even harder, that that was even possible and slowly stuck a finger in my dripping crotch and pulled out the moist finger to show my Mistress.

       Holding up the damp digit, I saw a look pass over her and she smiled.  "I'll have that for dessert."  She took my finger and licked my wetness from it.  I squirmed in

my seat, my face hot, my crotch wet.

       When her toe returned, it wasn’t long until she had me pushing closer and closer to a climax, her face amused at my predicament while I tried to remain passive.        

       When we got home later, I did indeed pay the price for my earlier comment.

       

       Back in the room, I was once again standing naked and on tiptoes. My wrists hung from a hook above my head and then my legs brought straight up in front of me so that my ankles were fixed to the same hook. I was, in fact, bent double. My head was then forced between my calves, so that Mrs. Lucy could see my face clearly. Then a leather strap was bound around me, securely pressing my upturned legs against my torso.

       She never broke the skin, or gave me more than I could really handle, she even soothed me in between the different sessions and had me begging to switch instruments. I had indeed asked for it afterall with my impertinence, so why shouldn’t I asked to be punished? She must have used every single, different implement she had for spanking though, and by the end I did feel as though she cooked my ass.

Chapter 21

Another day, and there was still a promise to be kept, and something new to be experienced.

       I was in the room once again, naked and bound. My arms crossed behind my back, ropes went around my torso, above and below my breasts to trap my arms. More were tied up and over to seal it all in until it create a nice little package. My breasts, each one was tied with several loops of rope until they were perfect little orbs, and then tied off and joined together high above my head. They were pulled up to another length of rope that went from end of the room to the other, and threaded into a little ring on said rope.

       I was standing over a similar length of rope that went from one wall to the other, but this one was crotch high, and I squirmed as it nestled itself perfectly between my pussy lips. My legs were bound with a very wide spreader bar and I was up on my tiptoes, and there was just enough slack in the ropes that held my breasts so that they wouldn’t be pulled unless I lowered onto my feet. It was a trade off.

       Buzzing away, three different vibrators had been set up along that length of the rope, each one different than the next. “I want you to walk, and stop at each one of the vibrators,” Mrs. Lucy instructed, her flogger finding my breasts, ass and pussy just once to put a period onto the sentence.

       Wide eyed and lower lip quivering, I gave a short whimper before inching my way forward. “Ahhhh!” I cried out, the rope between my legs coming out as I hobbled over to the first vibrator. I hate to stay up on my tiptoes, otherwise it just went in deeper. “Don’t worry, you won’t fall over; your tits will hold you up.”

       I continue to “Ahhh!” as I inched closer, stopping when my pussy was over the first one. My “Ahhhhs!’ became loud “Ooooohhhhhh!” as I nestled myself on top of it.

       “Stay right there,” Mrs. Lucy commanded. “You’re going to have an orgasm on each one,” she said, coming over the slap my ass with the flogger.

       On shaky legs, I worked to find the most comfortable spot, and settled into my position as the spasms began to build. “Come on,” she cooed, stepping aside to watch. It wasn’t long before I was up on the edge, and having enough sense to ask beforehand, I came hard in no time, the drool splitting out of my open mouth.

       “Move,” she commanded, the flogger once again finding my ass to move me along. I yelped again and inched my way forward, the rope once again slipping up between my lips and making the progress a slow one. “Stop,” she commanded, when I was halfway towards the next vibrator.

       “Take a rest right there,” she cooed, slipping up next to me. Risking a glance sideways, I was rewarded with the sight of a ball gag coming up to meet my lips. “Getting a little too loud,” she said, buckling it place behind my head. I had to open my mouth wide to accept it and my cheeks were pinched when she tightened the straps.

       Her flogger found its way to my breasts then, urging me on. “Come on, onto the next one,” she said, turning to my ass once I started to progress forward.

        I squealed like a pig when the vibrator made contact, groaning out from under the gag with a muffled “Oh my god!” and I was soon moaning away. I babbled incoherently while another orgasm began to build, my legs shaking uncontrollably when the climax finally hit, and shook my head back and forth as the waves rode through me.

       My whole body was shaking when the flogger found my ass again, the drool coming out in big, long strings and I moved forward on my tiptoes.  “One more,” she urged, the flogger finding my thighs to keep me going.

       It took everything I had (and it was a good thing I was bound) not to fall over when I found the third vibrator. I was crying out, pleading under the gag and moaning as the sensations began to build once more. I screamed widly when my climax finally hit, my body convulsing as the orgasm claimed me and I began thrusting my vagina muscles in reaction. I was shaking and flailing about wildly when I came for a third time, a thick stream of female cum ozzing out onto the vibrator as I began lubricating uncontrollable.

       She had to help me off the vibrator then, having lost all control of my legs at that point, and when her fingers came down between my legs then, she had me squealing in seconds before telling me to step back.

       Looking up at her with my big, wide eyes, I pleaded under the gag that I couldn’t possibly. I begged her to be left off, that I couldn’t take anymore, but she would have none of it, and before the flogger had a chance to strike I was taking a step back.

       “OOooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

       I couldn’t take it, I nearly screamed under the gag as the vibrator found its way between my legs, and my body shook all over once again. My eyes rolled up into the back of my head when the fourth climax hit, the drool flowing like never before.

       When the flogger found my bare mound, I eased off of it and onto the rope. “I want you to count to twenty,” my Mistress said softly. “then back onto the next one.”

       All I could do was whimper, then began to count out loud, the drool pooling around the gag as I did. When I got to twenty, her hand was ready, but I eased back before she could have the chance to strike.

       "NNNNNNNNGGHHHUUUUGHH!!"

       Once again I was in the throes of passion and my legs quaked as the vibration hit my crotch. “OOoohhhhhh Ggggggooodddddddd!” I cried out as they shot up through me. It took only minutes, but I was up again, my head thrashing back and forth and my hips bucking as another orgasm tore through me.  “Ahhhhhhhhh!” my moans turned into crying sobs and wailing moans as I came again.

       “Back,” she commanded, and I did as I was told, inching my way to the next vibrator.

       It took longer, much longer, for the next one to work its torturous magic on my clit, and I bucked about wildly, the drool flying about now, until I was back up onto the edge. “Oooohhhhhh shittttttt!” I cried, my body convulsing as one more orgasm claimed me.

       Mrs. Lucy was beside me then, holding the vibrator firmly in place as I rode the orgasm out, dragging the last one out as long as she possibly could. When she finally eased me off it and back onto the rope, I was a quivering mess.

       “Oh,” she said, rather matter of factly. “I just realized those were all on low.”

       All I could do was blubber and moan in response, panting madly as she went to raise the settings on each one. Stepping back, it was all I could do not to cry. “Travel across, and count to twenty on each one.”

       I was a mess, but I hobbled forward and when I made contact with the first one all over again, I don’t think my count was at all coherent. Between the moans, I probably even missed a few numbers, and I stumbled forward when a seventh climax shot through me. “Come on,” she urged.

       I hobbled over and my legs were buckling when I found the second vibrator, by then the tears starting and I had to sniffle loudly a few times before beginning to count again. I’m pretty sure I came again by the time I reached the count of twenty, and was onto the next without being told.

       “Are you going to cum on each one?” she laughed.

       When I reached the last one, I was back to blubbering. “No need to count anymore,” Mrs. Lucy said in my ear. “You’re going to stay there until you cum again.”

       I looked over at her with my big wide pleading eyes, my nose full, the drool pooling, a thick glob of it hanging from my chin, and began to shake again. She had to hold me still by the time I was finally coming again, but this time I was backed off of it after the orgasm hit and I was crying out.

       "GGGAAWWWWWWGGHHHH!!!"

       Later. she asked me which was worse, the orgasms or having my feet caned. Well, for me, having my feet caned was one of the worst and was at the top of my list for things I hated, as it wasn’t a localized pain. Instead, it was the kind that shot through your whole body. You see, anywhere else -- on my thighs, my bum, my calves or breasts even -- it was only those areas that felt the sharp sting, and after a short time it faded away, but not with your feet; instead you felt the sensation all over your body.

       By the third or fourth orgasm though, I would have preferred the cane, and my clit was so sensitive that I didn’t want any more orgasms. By the sixth they were not enjoyable anymore, and by the ninth I was pleading for Mrs. Lucy to stop and afterwards it was more torture then getting caned on my feet.        

Chapter 22

Even after a whole week of staying true to her word, Saturday was no different.

       I was in the center of the room again, up on a sturdy wooden table that went to about waist high when standing. I was bent over on all fours -- well three(s) really -- with my legs tied to my calves just below the knee, which were tied to the sides of table. My wrists and elbows had been tied together, and they were tied to the front of the table. I was bent so that I was on all fours, but supporting myself with my arms straight under my chest, and if I cupped my hands together I could rest my chin. A spreader bar had been attached between my knees, keeping my legs apart.

       “Don’t you look lovely,” said the voice from behind, before Mrs. Lucy delivered a spanking from behind. It was only her hand this time, but my bum was already red and I cried out each time it landed.

       “You’ve seen this before, eh?” she said, coming around to show me the large round metal hook she had used on me before.  All I could do was nod and whimper.

       Moving back behind me, she cooed for me to open wide before slipping it in place. Her fingers had lubed me already, and it went in without any resistant and only a loud “Ahhh!” escaping my lips.

       My hair was already in a ponytail, and when I felt her hands pull back on it, I knew where this was going. Even as she tied my hair to the hook in the plug, pulling it tight so that my head was brought up off my hands, I whimpered.

       “Let’s see how much movement you have,” she commanded.

       I wiggled back and forth, grunting as I felt the hook inside me move around. “Pull your head forward,” she commanded this time.  As I did, it pulled the hook in my ass deeper and my bum rose high up in the air. “Good,” she cooed.

       Tying another piece of rope to the one connecting my hair to the hook, she pulled it up tight to a large ring that had been hanging high above me. “Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhh!” I moaned as my back sunk and my head and ass rose.

       “Oh yeah,” Mistress Lucy says, delivering a few  more smacks to my rear. “That opens you up nice.” She comes around to pinch my chi and deliver a quick kiss before going back to enjoy the view. Delivering a couple quick slaps to my thighs, I could only imagine the grin on her face as it made my rise up and cry out. All I could do was rock back and forth, and each time I did it just made things worse.

       “Hmmm,” she finally called out. “I know something that will keep you in place.”

       When she came back, her fingers reached down to pinch my labia, pulling on my outer pussy lips until she replaced her fingers with little clothespins. One for each lip, I cried out softly when they were applied, but it was more of a pressure than a painful kind of uncomfortable. I cried out again when they were pulled, soft little “Ahhh ahhh’s” escaping my lips as she tied each one off to a big toe with little pieces of string.

       “Well it won’t be that bad if you don’t move,” she murmured. My labia must have been pulled a good inch or so, and much to her credit I stopped rocking back and forth. “I suggest trying not to move all that much,” she said again from above me.  When she pulled on the rope connecting my hair to the hook though, I cried out sharply.

       

       "AAAAAAGHGHHG!!!"

       

       It was an almost exquisite torture, but when she moved behind me and the spanks came once more, she had me wriggling about in earnest.

       “Are you ticklish?” she teased, before attacking my feet. This got me to cry out even more, as I bucked to try to get away from her fingers. When she attacked my sides, I wasn’t laughing. Quite the opposite; I was almost in tears. “Tickling just isn’t the same when it hurts, huh?”

       When she returned again, it was with her strap-on. “You know what to do,” she cooed again.

       She was a good inch away from my lips, and much to my dismay I had to rock forward a little bit in order to get the head of the fake cock into my mouth and I gasped as it went in, my other lips pulled from behind as I did. I mewled as she slid it deeper into my throat, groaning as a hand on the back of my head made me bob up and down, thus making the hook in my ass slide in even deeper.

       Like every other time before, when I had it good and wet she moved in behind me. “I think I’ll take these off for now,” she said, and I cried out when she removed the clothespins. For an instant, I was left to stew, and after thanking her properly, she took me.

       She grasped my hips with both hands as she entered me, probably more out of reflex than to keep me from rocking back and forth, and had me moaning away in no time. It was another exquisite torture, as every time she pounded it in, I was forced to lean forward just a little, and the hook worked its way inside me. The spanking started up again in concert with the vibrations, and it didn’t take me long before I was asking permission to cum in between the sobs. “Hold it,” she warned, taking her time with the fucking – apparently her own orgasm wasn’t that far off, and I had to wait first.

       “I want you to count to twenty, and then you can cum.”

       I whimpered, my only real defense, and between moans and labored breaths and clenched teeth, I started to count. One, two, Ohhhh! Three, four, five Ahhhh! Six, seven, eight, MMmmmm! Nine, ten, Ohhh! Eleven, twelve, thirteen, MMmmmm! Fourteen, Ohh. Fifteen, Ahhh! Sixten, seventeen, eighteen, MMmmm! Nineteen, Ohhh! Twenty.

       “Fuuuuuuccccccckkkkkkkkkk”

       I came hard, even harder as my body started to spasm and I wriggled about on the table, and she held the vibrator inside me, grabbing my hips and sinking her fingers in deep as she took reached her own climax.

       A few minutes later, after we had both come down from the high and she had moved off, I was brought back to reality as the rope was pulled, my head and ass raising up a good couple of inch. “AAAaahhhhhhh!” I cried out, as she tied it into place and left me to stew for awhile.        

Chapter 23

Sunday was going to be an easy day, a relaxed day, a take it easy day. Instead, Mrs. Lucy just found a way to still make good on her promise.

       In the middle of the afternoon, I’m once again standing in the center or the room, naked, hands tied behind my back, ankles tied together. There’s another rope tied around my waist, with one end running up through my pussy and through my ass to the back. I’ve got a ball gag in, securely fastened with straps and pulled tight to make my cheeks squish, and I whimper as it’s connected by a long rope to the ring in the ceiling.

       Mrs. Lucy is behind me, and she starts by binding my breasts. First two loops around the tops and bottoms to flatten them, then more loops around them to turn them into two, perfect little balls separated on my chest. My nipples get clamped next, big ones that have little rubber balls on the end that pinch together shut and lock together, so that no matter how much they’re pulled on, they don’t come off. I groan as they’re closed shut, and cry out loudly as she hangs two very large padlocks onto the end of each to dangle freely. They’re pulled down towards the floor as the spanking starts, and all I can do is stand there and sob softly while her hand finds my ass.

       It’s no more than a couple of minutes until the padlocks are taken off and the pressure released, but when Mrs. Lucy comes back, it’s only to tie the ends of the clamps to my bigtoes using long lengths of elastic rope. I sob again under the gag as the pulls the rope taut and loops each one around a toe, and the spanking starts again.

       First one cheek and then the next, and even though it’s only her hand and not something harder, I’m still sobbing as my cheeks begin to redden and the drool has now formed an almost solid line down to the floor from my mouth.

       “Walk,” she then commands when the spanking stops. “Stand up straight, with your shoulder back, like when you were young,” she tells me.

       I do my best to obey, sobbing still as I straighten my back and it only serves to pull my nipples down farther as my breasts heave. I grunt with each step as I hobble around in a slow circle, whether it’s from my own toes tugging on my nipples or the crotch strap pinching between my legs with each step, it doesn’t really matter. It’s agony, and after a few minutes she has me stop.

       When the nipple clamps come off, I cry out as each one is released. It’s an excruciating sensation when the little rubber balls are released and it brings fresh tears to my eyes, but the pain is gone within seconds and they’re no worse for wear afterwards. If anything, she pinches them a few times to get me to mewl, and I dance a little for her in return.

       A few minutes later and my ankles are untied, but only to have a spread bar placed between my knees to keep my legs spread. Reaching down to take my labia in her fingers, she pulls on the outer lips and attaches one of the clamps onto each.  I moan as she has to adjust the crotch strap in order to get a proper fitting, and dance a little more for her when the clamps are applied.

       “Guess where this is going to go,” she coos as she begins to thread a small piece of rope into the end of the clamp. All I can do is whimper in response, and she tugs on the two pieces of string as though they were reins on a horse in order to get me to sing for me. She then ties each of the strings off to the spread bar, running it down my leg and close to my knee, so that my lips are not only pulled downwards but stretched wide as well. “Here we go,” she finally says when they’re tied off.

       Once again, I hobble around in a circle, tormented once again like before as I do, but in a different way this time. Her cane finds my ass in order to make me move.        

Chapter 24

The next week had been a blur, each day my Mistress keeping true to her earlier word that something new would be learned every day… and it was like being a non-stop rollercoaster ride that just kept going and going… but that I didn’t want to disembark.

       Monday, I was standing in the center of the room, tied open, spread-eagled and holding the riding crop between my teeth.

       “Don’t let it go.”

       Mrs. Lucy was behind me, a different riding crop  in her own hands. She starts on the bottoms of my feet with quick “SNAPS!” and I jerk and gasp with each one. I jerk a bit less as a SNAP finds my instep, and jerk a bit more when she goes between my ankles to find my achiles tendon. Again I gasp, I jerk, I moan, I jerk and groan some more as the sound works it’s deliberate way up my leg.

       “If you keep still,” she coos ever so softly in my ear. “I won’t have to tie you down next time.”

       SNAP! Every time, I specific place. SNAP! I can feel more of my skin now than I ever thought possible. SNAP. I know where everything is and I’m an open nerve when she’s done.

       Tuesday, when she walks in the door I’m on all fours. Ass up in the air and stuffed with her favourite plug, face down, eyes closed. My fingers push and pull and dance between my legs, plenty slick but still not yet juiced. I gasp when I hear her enter; afraid, nervous, happy. I don’t dare stop, in fact my fingers move faster as she walks around me in a circle. I don’t look up but I know she’s admiring me, head to toe, and by the tenseness of my body she knows I haven’t cum yet.

       I wasn’t given permission until she came back.

       “Good girl,” she says, kneeling down beside me. “Let’s see if you remember your instructions.”

       She puts a hand on my neck and slowly slides it down, pressing into my back, and all the way down to the small of my back and down to my ass. She taps the plug and I wince a little, my fingers continuing their dance. When her hand finds my ass again it’s with a loud slap and I groan. Another follows, and another still.

       On the twelfth one, I cum, hard, and she smiles as my body quivers all over.

       Wednesday, she’s in bed and I’m between her legs. Both my holes were stuffed full, tucked it with a crotch strap and my wrists tied and secured to the small of my back by the same rope. I wiggle my ass in the air for her and she grabs both sides of my head, crying out when I finally envelope her clit in my mouth.

       Thursday, I’m on my back, my knees against my chest. My arms and legs straped in rope, holding them together. I’m a ball, a small item, folded in on myself, fetally safe. My nipples are clamped with the cloverleaf ones, the chain looped around the rope that connects my neck to my ankles, pulling on them. The paddle finds my ass and then Mrs. Lucy’ breasts lean into me, and the strap on moves into me like a piston. She’s leaning on my feet, a pressure point, pushing me, making it hard for me to breathe and each time more and more as I’m helps she fucks me. I howl, she likes the sound and makes her pinion into me ever harder, animalistic. I can’t move, I can only wait, stay, try and breathe, wait and get fucked, and wait, and wait, and try and watch for permission.

       Friday, I’m lost. Everything is black, I see nothing. I’ve got headphones over my ears, a blindfold over my eyes and I’m kneeling, sitting back on my heels. My hands are closed and interlinked behind my neck, and I have no sound or sight. My entire body is nothing but the sensation in my nipples, the burn encompassing everything. It comes and goes with every heartbeat.

       It started as 5 minutes of a tongue, and then, shockingly, 5 minutes of a pinch, nothing but that. Then 10 minutes of her tongue and lips, healing and licking and kissing. Then 10 minutes more of a different, even harder pinch. Then 15 minutes of her tongue, and each second that passed my breathing became heavier and I knew that the pain would match. And it did – after 20 minutes of even more, harder pinching, I was lost in the soft, peaceful, sensitive fucking of my nipples with her mouth and as the unreal sensations reverberated through my nipples, I was lost again this time in sensation.

       The last day, she’s lost patience and grabs me by the hair, dragging me across the room. I scramble to keep up on all fours until she yanks me up and bends me over the edge of the table. “I’ve had enough of that pretty cunt.”

       She yanks my head back, holding it and I looked up at the ceiling. I know what’s coming, I’ve been waiting and my ass pushes back to meet the strap-on that pokes me.

Chapter 23

When Mrs. Lucy had first made her promise, I expected, well I don’t know what I really expected. A couple of new lessons, maybe a class or two in some new course, and then we would get back to “normal”.

       I couldn’t have been any more wrong, and even after 2 weeks of something new every day, I was rewarded with a third week that would not be any different than the last. It was a promise that was being well punctuated.

       Monday night, I was standing at the foot of the bed, my hands and feet tied to the bed posts. It was a double bed, I had to spread my legs very wide apart and my arms were almost level with my shoulders when I gripped the posts. I was secured with comfortable leather cuffs that had soft padding in them to rings in the posts, and wasn’t going anywhere. Nearly suspended, my wrists and shoulders took most of my weight, but I could switch between the two and sometimes find a comfortable balance.

       I was warmed up, first with the paddle, then a stiff leather strap and then with another made of suede before being released to crawl up onto the bed, my head between Mrs. Lucy’ legs. When she cried out and the spasms took her, I back up where I started.

       The footboard of the bed was a pillory, was constructed of two pieces. Semi-circles had been cut on both of them, so that full circles were formed when one board rested above the other. With a slot mortisened into the bedposts, the top board could be raised and lowered. When in position, the board was secured with bolts and wing nuts. There were three holes in the footboard, the one in the center about the size of a female neck, and two holes beside that were just big enough for a pair of small wrists.

       Standing before it, an ottoman was placed in front of me to kneel over. She buckled a chastity strap around my waist and up between my legs; the crotch strap was narrow where it divided my pussy, and she took her time making sure that it nestled between the lips and it was good and snug. The strap was stiff and wide between my checks, spreading them. She buckled it loosely, leaving the tail of the strap out of it’s keeper and tossing the padlock on the bed.

       “Get comfy,” she gestured, before the jaws of the pillory closed over my neck and wrists. The ottoman had been a kindness, otherwise the strain on my spine would have been unbearable after a time. Even so, the position of my arms was awkward, and I knew that my elbows and shoulder would ache before long. When my knees were bound to the legs of the ottoman, I knew I wasn’t going to be going anywhere for awhile.

       The mattress was right in my face; I had to turn my head to one side or the other to breathe.

       She wasn’t finished with me, of course. I felt her hands working the buckle of the crotch strap. When it was open, a hand appeared in front of my face, holding something for me to admire; the plug, a number 4. She let me wait for it, had me take it in my mouth before she plowed it into me, and I shifted my hips when the strap between my legs was pulled right enough to make me jump. When it was buckled and locked, all I could do was whimper as she crawled between the covers. She broadcast tremors through the mattress as she fluffed her pillow and settled herself.

       “Sweet dreams,” she murmured.

       Tuesday night, I’m laying on the floor with my hands bound crossed behind my back, breasts flattened underneath me and pressing into the floor. Ropes were wound around my upper torso, above and below my breasts, then up and over my shoulders and to my bound wrists. The round metal hook finds its way into my ass, and it’s tied off to the ropes behind my back. “The more you move, the more this pulls,” Mrs. Lucy says.

       All I can say in replay is “Ohh, Ohhh, Ohhh!” as I squirm around. I can’t even move, the ropes are so tight, all I can do is wriggle.

       My ankles were then bound with rope, loops winding around and around them until finally they too are tied off to the ropes on my back, brining my feet up over my ass; hogtied. 

       A vibrator finds my clit, and it pulses away as I moan and wriggle about. Her hands slaps at my ass as an orgasm begins to rise, my soft “Ahhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhs!” signalling when I’m close. When I’m ready, they turn to “Ohhh, Ohhhh, Ohhhs” but before I can even ask for permission, it’s taken away. 

       When Mrs. Lucy returns, my ponytail is tied off to my ankles and secured with a small length of rope, pulling my head back. My panting turns to a grunt, and when she turns me onto my side, she gets rewarded with another “Ahhh” as a clothespin finds its way onto each of my nipples.

       “Naughty dreams,” she says, but not before sliding a dildo inside me to keep me company for the night.

       Wednesday night, I’m laying in bed flat on my back, my feet tied to the bed posts, arms spread out over the back of my legs and wrists tied somewhere under the sides of the bed. I’m open and exposed, once again in the ultimate “fuck me” position; folded into a sexy, neat package with pussy and ass up and ready for anything. I’ve got a blindfold on so I can’t see and my mouth is secured completely so I can’t speak.  My breasts are bound and separated on my chest, wound twice around with an elastic rope that turns them into some round melons. My nipples are hard as rocks.

       Mrs. Lucy starts with the light cane, one snap for each of my bare feet. I get two more and I cry out from under the gag, struggling wildly when she uses her fingers to tickle them. I buck about and cry out. She works my calves next, I can’t see but I hear the whisp of the cane before it lands each time, and groan as it does.

       I get the flogger between my legs next, the gentle slaps finding my pussy and lips, even my exposed anus gets some attention and I mewl and squirm, unable to go anywhere. She works my ass with it next, hard slaps that make my cheeks reverberate on the bed, then it’s back between my legs for some.

       Her fingers find their way to my sopping wet cunt next, two of them inside me while her thumb works its magic on my clit, and she has me up on the edge. Before I can cum though, its replaced with her strap on. I was in the ultimate fuck me position, afterall.

       She’s slow and gentle at first, letting me get used to the feel, but soon she’s pounding away. She takes a hold of each nipple, twists and then pinches, pulls on them and I’m panting like a bitch in heat as she fucks me good and proper. When she cums and I’m left wanting, she smacks my mound with a couple good smacks.

       It was complete sensory overload. I could breathe and hear everything, but the constant anticipation… of where is she moving next. Being caned, flogged, spanked, nipples tweaked, then fucked liked crazy. I didn’t know where it was coming to next, and now it was over.

       “See you in the morning.”

       Thursday night, I was in the hallway. There was a stone statue on one of the walls, with an erect phallus.        

       It was onto this phallus that I was thrust, my legs bound apart on the pedestal of the statue. My head was laid back on the statue's shoulder, and I gave a moan as the phallus impaled my backside and then lay there as my hands were bound behind its back.

The statue's right arm was upraised, the stone fingers of the hand forming a circle as if they had once clasped a knife or some other instrument. And now, my head was carefully positioned on the shoulder of the statue beneath that hand, a small soft cushion providing some comfort. And through the clasped hand, Mrs. Lucy placed a leather phallus, anchoring it so that it fit into my mouth.

       The statue now raped me both through my anus and through my mouth, and I was bound to it. And my sex, wet and completely empty, lay thrust forward as the phallus of the statue poked me from behind..

       It was going to be another night slept bound, my legs wide apart.

       Friday night, after my backside had been well striped from the belt, I was bent over a thick wooden beam, my sturdy legs planted on the floor and my arms bound in the small of my back. A small pillow had been laid for me to rest on, and I was to seep in this fashion; my weight on the beams, head on the pillow. I could stretch my legs if I wished, or just let my feet rest on the floor. It was a good and completely debasing position.

       Saturday, I was once again bound spread-eagle to the posts at the foot of bed.

       Naked, Mrs. Lucy was under the covers, and I moaned softly when her foot insinuated itself between my legs, her big toe burrowing in search of my clit. I pressed against her and almost smiled

       “Good night,” she murmured.

Pause-a-logue

I’m going to pause for just a moment, or end here depending on how things go, because I’m sure there are a lot of questions and I’m certainly going to do my best to explain a few things.

       First off, I’m not a masochist. If someone else had asked (or rather made) me do a lot of the things I had done, I probably would have said no. In fact I know I would have said no. The biggest reason of course, being that some of the stuff hurts (obviously), unless of course it’s done by someone you want to do it; it’s like getting spanked by your boyfriend during sex VS getting spanked just because. I’ve never been one to like pain for just no reason; instead, there’s this whole thing about liking it when someone else derives pleasure from giving it. Even then, from my perspective, that someone couldn’t be just anyone, and if it had been anyone else but the one I chose to give myself to, I wouldn’t have done it. I’d have kicked their ass and showed them the door.

       Okay, so my nipples. They get a lot of hell, between clamps and pins and clothespins, small and big weights, tugging and pulling, etc. Well the thing to note, is that I’ve got pretty indestructible nipples, and they can take a whole lot of abuse. If anything, they’re like little activators, and pinching them just gets me instantly wet…

       When it comes to breast bondage, I absolutely love it! When you’ve got bigger (and natural) boobs, there’s no end to the possibilities, and something to note; even when the rope is tight, and they start to turn red, you can’t hurt them. They’re a big mass of flesh and you can’t cut the circulation off like you would a limb. You can tie them squished together, tie them up, tie them apart, tie them down, or into little balls, and there’s no damage. For me personally, it’s one of the coolest things, and I imagine that’s because I’ve got a nice rack *wink* to tie up. At first it’s only slightly painful because of the pinching, but after awhile they’re so soft, because they’re so tight, and the ropes just make it all feel even better. On a different another note, there’s absolutely no chafing either; not if you use (four-strand) German hemp rope, or anything just as soft.

       And when it comes to being tied up in general, well some of that I love too. When it’s tight and I can’t move at all, that’s probably when it’s the best and most amazing; being totally incapacitated really turns me on and it only makes me cum harder.

       So okay, by now you’ve probably read through the entire thing, and for some parts you’re probably thinking wtf, she didn’t sign up for that. Or it was too much, or she didn’t ask for that, or want that, or whatever else. Well the most important thing to realize, is that even though at some of those times that might be the case, overall it’s not.  Many hours were spent discussing every facet of what I liked, disliked, what I wanted to try, what I didn’t want to try, what I thought I could handle and what I didn’t think I could handle. We talked about what she wanted, what she expected, and as the days passed and my limits were expanded and even tested, there were still some things completely off the table and never ventured towards. Even when my own limits were tested, she could honestly read me like a book and knew when I could be pushed a little farther, or when it was time to call and end to the play and throughout the whole thing I never had to call a serious end to the game.

       Which leads I guess, to the most important part of the whole dynamic. You see, even though she was the Mistress and I the slave, I really had the most control. When I showed up at her door, I was the one to start the game and all throughout, I always had the option and the choice to bring it to an end. There were only a handful of times in the years we spent together when that was the case, and even though I hadn’t used a safeword to call a total end to it, I’d reached my breakpoint point and Lucy was always incredibly swift to end whatever it was.

Chapter 25

After a whole month of being with Mrs. Lucy, I hadn’t expected there to be very many more surprises to come… but I guess I should have known better. After a whole month where each evening was an experience of the unexpected; of having my ass paddled, caned, whipped, flogged, and spanked until it had turned every color of red in the palate available; of being fucked in both holes with plugs, dildoes, vibrators, strap-ons and then even the real thing; of being tied up in impossibly tight positions with ropes and leather straps… a month of being tied into hogties, bowties, little balls, and even suspended from the ceiling, and either played with, spanked, or left to stew or even to sleep; of being turned into an anal slut, then a painslut, and just a slut period… well I don’t know exactly what I expected.

       “Time to play,” Mrs. Lucy says, sometime after I’ve gone inside her lair.

       I give her my coy, little-girl smile in response, and we head into “the room”.

       It doesn’t take long until I’m naked and bent over once again. Noticing a theme here? It’s over the spanking bench this time that I’m bent over, a padded vaulting horse at a little above waist height that I had to present myself beside first, before bending over it myself. Another theme, how I have to step into my own torment, another sign that it’s all very much consensual, and how I’m asking for it all in a sense. 

       Little slots for my hands and a bar for me to hold are on a frame in front of me. This leaves my hands outstretched in front of me and spread about eighteen inches

apart. A pad and a pillow provided a rest for my head, but this meant that my breasts would hang free beneath me, leaving my body unsupported from my shoulders to my belly. My nipples were hard (no surprise!), achingly as they pointed my breasts at the floor.

        Once in this bent-over position, I found myself with my head and arms about a foot below the level of my upraised bottom. To ensure that I would not move about, a wide leather belt was attached over the small of my back holding me down firmly to the softly padded vault. My wrists were also restrained with soft leather straps. My positioning was not yet complete however; first my left leg was lifted, bent slightly at the knee and then lifted over a peg about twelve inches to my left. The peg was padded and fit just at the back of my knee, with my foot resting in another slot whose leather strap held my ankle firmly. The procedure was repeated with my right leg, leaving my firm, round buttocks now tightly spread apart to leave me completely exposed from the rear; both my shaved pussy and my anus fully on display.

       I could only imagine, but the view from behind had to of been interesting, if not amazing. With the pegs and leather straps holding my legs splayed wide apart, I could feel the air in the room waft across my spread open pussy lips. My legs were completely open, and with no pubic hair to obstruct the view, even the tip of  my clitoris could have been seen peeking from its hood (and yes, it was erect too).

        Just before the spanking started, Mrs. Lucy was there in front of me, her big brown eyes staring me in my big blues. She held up an egg, about 1 ½ inch” and made of a soft gelatin shell, with an amber liquid inside. She rolled it between her thumb and finger while she held it up for me to inspect, and when she split the capsule, it bled an oily substance on her fingers. Tempted by the pleasant, spicy aroma, I curiously licked the substance experimentally when she brought it close to my lips, and was surprised by the peppery bite on my tongue. I spat, my eyes wide.

       “Don’t worry,” she cooed, noticing my quizzical expression. “It isn’t toxic,” she continued, before moving around behind me. She cupped my bare mound with her hand, the moisture on my pink lips making it obvious that I was aroused by my current predicament. Then she tapped a finger against the crack of my ass and I wriggled, suddenly uncomfortable in my exposed and open position.

        "It’s just a little bit of ginger,” Mrs. Lucy said from behind me. “You're going

to find that it will help you remember this lesson after your spanking has finished."

        I was confused for a moment, but that confusion was quickly resolved as Mrs. Lucy touched the end of the capsule to the center of my tight anus. “Relax it,” she warned even as I clenched tight.

       I forced myself to unclench my bottom and gave a soft cry as the object was pushed past my sphincter muscle and my toes curled involuntarily after the first inch was in. She then began rotating the egg as she worked the rest of it, and I began to undulate and purr as it slipped completely in. Using the tip of her finger, Mrs. Lucy pushed the capsule deeper into my rectum with a twisting motion until her finger was buried to the hilt in my rectal canal and she could feel just the very tip of the egg.

       My eyes had long ago closed shut, preferring not to watch my own torment in the full length mirror ahead of me, and I could only imagine the expression on my face. For her part, Mrs. Lucy could see the effects of the harsh intruder as my anus clenched and released in rapid succession though, and I could only imagine the grin on her face as she must have watched mine from the mirror.

       “It’s going to get very hot,” she said, before she jerked her thumb out of my anus and stepped back for a moment, waiting for the effect to hit.

        It didn’t take very long, and I felt it first on the ring of my anus. It took about a minute after that before I began to squirm, my toes curling as I squeezed the wooden pegs holding them apart. I let out a loud cry as the effect of the ginger began to take effect.

       “Oohhhhhhh!” I cried out, and I wanted to beg her to take it out but knew that would probably only make whatever was to come that much worse. Instead, I moaned and whimpered as she watched my anus clench and release in a 'winking' motion, my vain attempt to alleviate the head that began working through my bowels.

       “I’ll be back in a few minutes to continue your punishment.”

       I barely heard her, the sensations deep in my bottom taking all of my attention. For minutes, I was left with only the sound of my own breathing and whimpering, nothing to concentrate on by the growing discomfort.

       The sound of the door opening brought me back to the here- and-now a few minutes later. I closed my eyes again and the sound of footsteps was almost a relief.

        "You're certainly right about her being spread open," came a male voice. It took me a few minutes to realize that it was Mr. Munroe, by then the hot ginger had now completely melted in my body and I could feel the effects from just below my belly button all the way out to my anus. “Yes, it does position her quite well for punishment.”

       “A little uncomfortable?” Mrs. Lucy asked.

       I nodded my head miserably, and they both chuckles as I tried in vain to pull my

knees together. The padded pegs at the back of my knees prevented me from doing more than flexing my thigh muscles and thus giving them an even better show.

       

        "Well I imagine you're looking forward to your enema then," she smiled.

       I whimpered in response, “Yes, Mistress,” and could hear the sounds of what must have been the enema equipment being organized behind me. I gasped when I felt the tip of something else, cool and flat, stroke my pussy. It was the end of a riding crop, one that had been used to spank me quite often. The flat leather tip struck my naked pussy lips gently and then rubbed lengthwise up my now soaking slit.

        My head pulled up like a shot! My thighs strained as I tried in vain to pull away from my restraints. I didn’t know whose hand it was that held the riding crop as it moved between my legs, but despite the burning sensations on my belly, my pussy was soaking wet with sexual tension.

       Now the crop slid higher along my side, making a trail to my left breast. It smacked the tip of my hanging breast gently then again sharply, my nipple crinkling to an even more erect state.

        I cried out more from the shock then the pain, whimpering as the crop was stroked across my naked nipple. I then felt the tip of the crop moving here and there on my body when the sensation of someone else standing directly between my thighs made me aware that the next portion of my punishment was at hand. The cool sensation of a fingertip

at the entrance to my rectum was almost a relief. My rear passage and the portal to it had been on fire for what seemed forever, and I wondered fleetingly who it was that was tickling my anus as the lubricated finger applied a blob of lube to the tight opening.

       I dared not look, whether from humiliation or a sense of indignation, but was sure that it was Mrs. Lucy from the delicate movements of the fingertip. Whoever it was though, watched with interest how my anus had opened up like a flower with the suppository. When whoever it was had descended, the muscles between my buttocks had been clenching and releasing frantically in a vain attempt to release some of the intense sensations originating deep in my young body. Now the long thin finger had a large blob of Vaseline on its tip and began rubbing it gently and slowly around the rim of my anus. The two of them no doubt watched as my hips raised in an automatic response, trying to seek more of the cool relief.

       Mrs. Lucy no doubt smiled as she teased the tiny opening a moment longer and was rewarded with a moan from the erotic sensations I was experiencing through my entire pelvic floor. By the time I was fully lubricated, my body was a mass of sensations. First my bottom had been burning hot; it was still irritated enough that it was making me squirm but the lube had taken most of the sting away. Now, the sensation of my Mistress’ long and cool finger twisting and sliding deep in my rectum had me squirming from different feelings.

        I felt her finger pull from me suddenly and felt the tip of what must be the enema nozzle touch the center of me anus. Again, it was most likely Mrs. Lucy who was attending to the enema preparations. I felt the tip of the hard, cool plastic separate my gaping anal ring. The effects of the suppository made me more open than I had probably ever been back there. I was completely unable to resist the initial penetration.

        Mrs. Lucy twisted the tip around a couple of times to get my ass used to the feeling before pushing the nozzle forward. As she did so, I realized that the nozzle being

used wasn't the simple enema nozzle or even the longer, thicker douche nozzle. It was the hated B_a_r_d_e_x; this one came complete with two inflatable bulbs at the end of the long nozzle. One of these deflated bulbs would be inserted into my rectum, the other close behind it would be left out. When they were both inflated, they would press close together making an unbreakable seal between them and ensuring that the water injected into my body would stay there until released. The insertion of the first bulb was always just a little uncomfortable, but this time my ass seemed to flare out and accept it. 'Once again probably because of that damned suppository,' I thought.

       I held my breath, waiting for the dreaded inflation to begin. I didn't have to wait long and heard the sound of the squeezed inflator at the same time I felt the object in my rectum move. Several strong squeezes had me squealing in protest as first the internal, then the external bulbs were filled. The inflating of the B_a_r_d_e_x had pulled my anus wider open but with both bulbs pushing against each other, the rubber had effectively taken control over any evacuation I might want to do. The sensation made me push at the bulbs involuntarily just as though I was in the middle of a bowel movement. No amount of pushing would have any effect on the nozzle.

       "Very effective," Mr. Munroe said as he came around to inspect the arrangement.

       I waited, knowing that the next step was to release the enema into me, and it was Mr. Munroe who did the honours. Reaching up, he undid the clip holding the water in the

enema bag hanging a couple of feet above my naked and spread body.

       I gasped as I felt the rush of water start into me with some apprehension. I never quite knew what I would get at that moment; in some cases the enema bag would be filled with hot, hot water and the resulting sensation would be like liquid fire being injected into me; other occasions had seen very cool water sliding into me with the resulting cramps being instantaneous; other opportunities had seen water with various solutions added, all which served to increase my discomfort.

       This time the water was warm, just a bit warmer than body temperature.

       "This ought to keep you from making an accident," Mrs. Lucy said as she jiggled the end of the nozzle sticking out of my spread anus. I strained at the sensation as the inserted section of the nozzle wiggled back and forth well inside my rectum.

       I barely heard the sound of them moving away, leaving me to the automatic actions of the water filling my belly. The position and design of the table let belly expand and hang below as it slowly filled with what seemed an enormous amount of water. I was suddently thankful that there was nothing in the water that caused any cramps, although I knew that the water alone would be uncomfortable. 'God. How much water is it?' I wondered as the sound of the gurgling water continued to fill me, until at last the bag was empty and the water now held by gravity and the B_a_r_d_e_x deep in my bottom.

       It was a few minutes later when I felt a single person behind me, moving quietly closer until I was sure that they were standing directly between my flexed and outstretched thighs. For a moment, there was absolute silence as I waited to see what would happen and the person behind me waited, observing.

       The sensation of the long enema nozzle being touched was like an electric shock to my body. I cried out as I felt the nozzle being manipulated, then closed as the the hose to the now empty enema bag was detached. Still the wiggling of the device deep inside of my body as the hose was removed caused me to moan softly and squirm in response.

       “Are you ready for your spanking?”

       “Yes, Ma’am,” I answered weakly. The physical sensations running through my body were almost overwhelming and the spanking now looming ahead was an almost welcome relief.

       The first smack of the hairbrush took my  breath away and the heat of it was only starting to spread when the second smacked down on the opposite buttock. In rapid succession, Mrs. Lucy my ass until it was a bright pink from the top of my buttocks to the crease of my thighs. I was whimpering openly as she paused and ran the wristle side of the brush over my cheeks. My hips twitched as the light scratching sensation awakened my over-sensitized ass. The spanking recommenced with Mrs. Lucy paying attention to my sensitive inner cheeks and the soft curve below my ass. With my spread open position, virtually ass of my ass  was available from the crack outwards.

       It was perhaps five minutes of spanking before Mrs. Lucy paused and rubbed her palm over the now red cheeks. "Mmmm, nice and warm I think," she said. She let me catch my breath for a second before the bristle-side of the brush came back, the strokes covering the entire area. When stroking the brush down my sensitive crack, she dragged the brush lengthwise from the small of my back across my anus to my perineum.

        The third and final set of smacks were the hardest. Each smack of the brush was like fire to my ass but with all the sensations at the same time it was difficult to concentrate on any of them. The warm water was still stretching my belly out as though I was pregnant. The punishment bench itself still restrained me in the stretched out, spread open position. The ginger egg and the following lubrication and insertion of the enema nozzle had left a deep stinging warmth that I could still feel deep behind my swollen belly despite the water that had passed through my rectum into my body. The B_a_r_d_e_x itself of course was still inflated both inside and outside my stretched open anus.

       Finally the spanking and the teasing of the nozzle left conflicting sensations, the stinging heat changing to the heat of a more sexual kind. I was obviously getting aroused.

       Suddenly the spanking stopped. My  breath was coming now in ragged gasps. I wasn't sure if I was gasping from the spanking or the excitement of from all the other sensations. Passing a hand over my bottocks, Mrs. Lucy could feel their heat, and taking the hair brush, she lowered the bristle side close my swollen pubis. My clitoris had been erect and peeking out of its protective hood almost from the moment I had been fastened over the punishment bench. Both it and my nipples were achingly hard. Even with all the other sensations running through me by then, I could not get the feelings in either areas out of my mind.

       I could feel the sharp stroking bristles of the hair brush move down my hot buttocks toward my wet pussy. 'Oh no' I thought, 'Is she going to spank my pussy?'

       Using the bristle side of the brush, Mrs. Lucy reached as far up as she could and gently stroked down from the top of my bare slit along toward the bottom.

        "Unnnnnnggh!" I moaned as I felt my control slipping away. This last sensation was too much for me. As much as I had been trying to hold back, the bristles dragging up and down along my swollen slit, then pulling at my clit, drove me over the edge. The orgasm started deep behind my belly button, within my water-filled belly. Mrs. Lucy tapped a finger against the end of the nozzle as my hips bucked and I struggled with the onset of a huge, intense orgasm.

Chapter 25

“You didn’t ask for permission.”

       Her words barely even registered in my fuzzy state of mind, even as the straps holding me down were released and I was let up off the bench. “You can pay for that later,” she said as she helped me stand on wobbly legs. “But first we should get you emptied.”

       My hands were bound behind my back then, and I was almost thankful for the ropes are they were secured; it was all I could take not to reach down to my swollen belly or rub my reddened ass. I was led into the next room, the one with the tiles on the floor and a standing shower on one wall. “Squat,” Mrs. Lucy ordered, placing me over the drain.

       Legs shaking, I did as I was told and assumed the position, readying myself for flood of water to come rushing out once the gates were opened. Instead, she stood over me, straddling my head. “You have a job to do first,” she said, holding onto both sides of my head as she pulled me in closer.

       It didn’t take long, the variety of things going on in my body making my tongue work all the faster, motivated by the release that I so needed within my belly. When I finally had her quaking on top of me, pulling my head in harder, I sighed when she finally let me go and licked my lips clean as she kissed my forehead.

       “Thank-you, Mistress,” I moaned.

       Instead of the release I so desired though, she was replace by Mr. Munroe standing over me. “Not done yet,” he cooed, his cock bobbling before me.

       I whimpered then, and began to work his cock. I took him all the way down my throat, worked my tongue around the base and the head, and he too was cumming in minutes, pulling out at the last minute to discharge all over my outstretched tongue. It didn’t take long for it to pool in my open mouth, and slowly dribble down my chin before he finally gave me permission to swallow.

       “Thank-you, Master,” I said afterwards. 

       

       I whimpered then when Mrs. Lucy knelt down beside me and took hold of the plug inside my ass. It took every bit of strength I had left in me not to fall over afterwards, when it was finally pulled out and the water burst out of me like a broken dam.

       Once I was emptied of the water and given a quick dry, it was back into my previous position, once again bent over and tied down to the bench. A hairbrush hadn’t been quite often to heat my ass, so I got the flogger, then the paddle and finally the switch to my ass, but not before another ginger egg had been pushed deep into me.

       They took turns; Mr. Munroe paddling my ass while Mrs. Lucy sat on a stool in front of me, my head between her legs. Then Mrs. Lucy flogging my ass while Mr. Munroe pushed his cock down my throat. Then they switched again and all the while, my poor bum got redder and redder, my insides heated by the ginger egg and I was a blubbering mess by the time Mrs. Lucy resume her position behind me, her favourite strap-on buckled around her hips.

       She took me fast and hard, rubbing it between my legs first to get it coated in my own juices before slipping it into my sopping wet pussy. A proper fucking, she called it, drilling me from behind while Mr. Lucy drilled me from the front. When the vibrations started, I was crying out as my pussy clamped down around the vibrator, but as soon as Mrs. Lucy’ began to quake with an orgasm and mine was just about to boil over, she pulled out and they switched places once more.

       My insides were still burning when I felt the tip of his penis touch by back end, but I almost welcomed the cool sensation of his lubed cock as it slipped inside my ass. It was a welcome relief, if not temporary, and I was grunting like a pig by the time he grabbed a hold of my hips and came, pumping me with a second load for the day.

       “Going to need a little break before I can do that again,” he smiled.

       “Me too,” Mrs. Lucy replied, coming up behind me to slip another ginger egg into my bottom. I squealed and thrashed against my bonds as I felt it go in, and was panting by the time she pushed it in deeper, then sealed it in with a plug.

       “We’ll be back in a little bit,” she said afterwards, slapping me on the ass before they both took their leave. “And I hope you’ll be ready for more.”

Chapter 26

A new day brought with it a new adventure and today I was going to be “sexually broken”. A full day full of orgasms, pain, and escapable bondage.

       It starts with me bound on my knees, and it takes all my strength and muscles to keep the position (although the ropes and bar do help quite a lot) and I’m completely helpless. I’m bound to a t-frame with the middle line at my shoulders once I’m squatted down. It’s a metal pole that my arms wrap around and it sits into the inside of my elbow. It’s a strange contraption of ropes that keeps me bound in place; my biceps tied to my forearms, then my wrists tied with several loops and winding down to a ring in the floor and then to another set of ropes that ties my thighs to my claves. The process is repeated on the other side and it forms a kind of pyramid of ropes with me in the middle. A rope is tied around my neck, not tight enough to choke or anything, but then it’s tied off to the top of the t-frame.

       I’m left for a few minutes to stew and whimpering by the times Mrs. Lucy comes back, wiggling about to find some kind of comfort. It doesn’t work.

       She starts off by flogging my breasts, using the really big one that doesn’t so much as hurt but leaves an impression on its victim. I cry out as a dozen hits find each perfectly shapes tit, then she works the flogger between my legs and I start gasping. Another dozen strokes down there and she’s got me reeling on my toes.

       “UUuuuuuuuung,” I cry out when she stops. “Thank-you Mistress.”

       I’m breathing hard when she comes back, and she orders me up onto my tiptoes, pulling the neck rope slightly so that I have to stay up on them or face the consequences. Once the rope it tied off and I’m nearly sweating from the strain, I test it a little just to see. I drop down just a little and gurgle slightly as the neck rope is pulled; nothing tight enough to do any serious harm (it’s looped several times to form a sort of collar) but it’s mighty unbearable.

       “There we go,” Mrs. Lucy says, kneeling down to my level. She lays a passionate kiss on my lips and her tongue swirls around mind, before she pulls it out and slaps my breasts with the palm of her hands. “What do you say?”

       “Oooohhh!” I cry out as her hand finds the side of one and then the other breast. “Thank-you, Mistress.” I say, followed by a loud “Oh” and then an “Ow” as her hands falls down a few more times.

       “Stick your tongue out,” she commands. I comply, and she makes me lick the opening of a large cylindrical tube, before placing it over my left nipple and areola. Pump, pump, pump. I cry out slightly as the suction cups are deployed, and soon my nipple is 3x its original size. I whimper as she repeats the process on the other one and I groan loudly when she’s done. By then I’m squirming around in my bondage, my legs quivering. Unlike clamps where the pain goes away soon after they’re applied, the suction cups are continuously drawing blood in, so they hurt every second that they’re on.

       “What’s wrong?” she coos, noticing my predicament. “Legs sore?”

       “Yes, Mistress,” I whimper.

       “Well let’s see if we can weaken them.”

       I whimper again when she comes to kneel down in front of me, a little clit vibrator in her hand. It only takes a few seconds before the moans start, a few seconds later joined by soft “OOooooos” as the vibrator works it’s magic.

       “Do me a favour,” she says, matter-of-factly. “No more words.”

       I seal my lips shut and continue to moan, at least 4 or 5 more “Ohs” escape my lips as her fingers reach down to spread my lips and raise them slightly so that the little vibrator can get more contact. She has me squirming and dancing around on my tiptoes as much as I can with my arms and legs bound in place, and soon I’m crying out.

       “Cum,” she says, and I burst. My whole body quakes as an orgasm tears through my bound and strained body, my legs struggling to keep me upright (I would have fell over for sure if I wasn’t bound in place) and shaking. When I finally settle, her hands close around the suction cups, and I cry out as she tries to pull one of them off. “OOooohhhhh!” I cry out as she pulls on it twice with no release.

       “Am I going to need a key for this?” she smiles, before pulling a third time. It comes off with a loud pop and an even louder “Ahhhhh!” escaping my throat. She reaches for the other, and it comes off with only a single pull, and an even louder cry from my lips.

       I’m back to breathing hard then, groaning as if I’m in labour.

       She comes back to kneel beside me, and I whimper when I see what she has in her hands; the big locking nipple clamps.

       “Ready for these now?” she asks, and I look up at her with my wide eyes. They close shut instantly when the rubber ends of the clamps find my nipple and I cry out as it locks into place. I cry out again as the second one finds it home, trying to breathe regularly.

       I hear a loud bang on the floor and my eyes snap open to see where it came from. Two large padlocks, the kind you would put on those big shipping containers, are sitting there in front of my on the floor. I whimper again as she picks them up and comes closer.

       “Nnnnhhhhhh!” I cry out as she slips the first one onto the end of the clamp, pulling my nipple down towards the floor. “AAaaaaaaaah!” I cry out as the second one is attached and it too succumbs to gravity. I’m back to panting at that point and when she tells me to stick out my tongue, I comply, only to have a tongue trap stuck onto it. Basically just two chopsticks with the ends pressed together, it serves to keep my tongue out and to keep me from swallowing too much.

       “What hurts the most?” she ask, leaning down to nibble on my ear.

       “Mmmmyyy tonnngguue,” I try to say but it comes out very slurred.

       “Hmmm,” she says, standing back up. “Let’s take some tension off that.”

       She comes back with the small flogger, and it finds it ways between my legs. I cry out as it slaps my pussy and my legs close involuntary (well as much as they can in their bound state). “Keep them open,” she warns and I do my best, my calves straining in my position. The damn flogger slaps at me a good dozen times or so and I cry out with each one, and she delivers another dozen as I rise up and down, giving her a little dance. “Keep going,” she coos as the flogger continues to slap between my legs. 

       When she’s finally done and I’m left panting, my legs are on fire and I shimmy from one foot to the other, trying to relieve the pressure. Mrs. Lucy returns to place a pair of clothespins on my outstretched tongue, and lays a whole bucket of them on the floor in front of me.

       “Now we’re going to have some fun,” she says, and the clothespins start. She only gets three of them on, staring on my collarbone and working down to the side of my breast before I involuntarily shake one of the nipple clamps off. I don’t even feel it as it’s pulled off and falls to the floor. A little note, but most clamps only hurt at first when they’re put on, then they don’t hurt because they pinch and take away the pain and go almost numb.

       “Ohh, well look what you’ve done,” Mrs. Lucy says. “Shake the other one off.”

       I whimper loudly in protest and groan as I shimmy my hips, looking down as the clamps swaps back and forth and my poor nipple is tugged every which way. My soft ohhh’s and oww’s join the sway and soon she warns that if I don’t succeed, she’s going to pull it off. I cry out as I struggle some more, trying to get the damn thing off. It won’t budge.

       She reaches down to take a hold of it then. “Not coming off? Well I’ll yank it off, tell me when you’re ready.”

       She starts counting and all I can do is groan until she gets to three, then she unclasps it rather than tugging it off. I tried to gurgle out a “wait” but it was too late and as the feeling rushes back into my nipple I cry out. It’s a bit of a shock but so much better than having them pulled free, and I cry out again as she pinches it. “OOooooooooh!” I groan, the return feeling intensified by a hundred fold. I cry out again as she pinches the other one, and again and again as she lightly goes back and forth between them and once again I’m doing a little shuffle dance for her.

       Finally the clothespins return, working their way down the soft skin of my sides; under my breast, the middle of the hourglass, the top of the V and then one on the middle of the V. She places one onto each nipple to finish the set off and I cry out again as each one tightens around a nipple. There’s now a whole roll down each side of my body, and they’re all connected by a string.

       “Now it’s time for some fun,” she says.

       I cry out as the vibrator finds my clit, staring off into nothingness as it begins to work its magic between my legs. “When you come,” she says, breaking my little reverie. “Say you’re a painslut. Say you’re a “painwhore, a painslut, a painslut”, when you’re cumming.”

       My big wide eyes find hers and I nod as she presses the vibrator in a little deeper and it starts sending little shockwaves through my clit. I’m moaning in no time and my head bobbing as the vibrator works, my eyes once again back into staring off into space. “Don’t bore me,” she smiles, her fingers pulling my hood up to find that sweet spot for the vibrator. I start to cry out as soon as it finds its purchase and my legs are quaking uncontrollably. I feel the shockwave hit and the spasms start, and mumble out that I’m painwhore.

       Before I can say anything else in the litany, the clothespins are yanked off in one fell swoop. I cry out loudly as the whole set of them are pulled off as I cum, my body convulsing as my orgasm hits twice (or three or four time) as hard and I shake all over, moaning and groaning from the ecstasy and screaming from the pain. I’m panting as I cum extremely hard and I can only imagine how fantastic the sight must be. I’m crying out even more and begging for her to stop when she pinches both nipples and the feelings in them are intensified as they come back, and my moans grow louder as she removes the ones on my tongue and then finally the chopsticks are removed too.

       She hasn’t removed the vibrator and I’m still climaxing, my whole body tensed. “Are you done cumming?” she asks with a smile.

       I groan out two soft “no’s” and shake my head, even begging a little as another orgasm rises. I’m experiencing a series of them, or one big one, I don’t know. I don’t care either, I just don’t want it to stop. It’s like an orgasmic overload, the top of Mount Everest and I’m at the top with my arms raised whooping that I’ve climbed that high.

       “I’m going to count to ten,” she says. “and if you’re not done I don’t care.”

       “Oooooooooh!” I cry out, my juices flowing quite liberally by that point and I can hear the soft squishing between my legs and moan again as the vibrator continues to play over my clit. She starts counting down and my hips buck back and forth and I’m cumming again in only a few seconds.

       It’s the most delirious (and divine) torture ever.

Chapter 27

I’m given a short rest and then it’s back for some more basics; caning and cumming.

       I’m laying on a small table this time that’s a little lower than waist high, wiggling and moaning because I’ve been tied into a strict hogtie. I can’t exactly do much else, I’m pretty helpless and it’s tied in pretty good, but we should start at the beginning no?

       My breasts were bound first, with loops going around my upper body above and below each one, then another piece of rope was used to close those off in between my breasts; effectively pinching them and making them come out a little more and tighten. Another piece is wound around and around each one tightly, turning them into perfect balls on my chest, and those ropes are then pulled up and over my shoulders to create a harness or bra made out of rope.

       It doesn’t take long for them to start turning a different shade compared to my tan skin, being bound and wrapped into little balls, but they’re all tingly and soft and it’s not at all uncomfortable or damaging.

       Next I’m laid on the table, and I groan as my breasts are squashed under my own weight on the wood. They start by binding my wrists behind my back with several loops of rope. My elbows are then bound with a long wooden rod in the crook, forcing them up at an angle and pulling my shoulders together and back. Next, my ankles are tied with several loops each and then bound to the rod my elbows were tied to, pulling them up into the hogtie position and keeping my legs spread wide open. A huge knot of ropes is tied around the middle of the rod and then led up to a large ring in the ceiling, only to come down to be attached to the ropes connecting my ankles to the rod.

       I groan when my head is pulled back and my ponytail is tied off to the rod, making it all that much worse. Now that it’s the worst position I’ve ever been in, mind you, and all things considered it’s not terribly bad. Yes, my elbows feel the strain from being pulled up and back so much, and the soft rope around my neck from the breast harness is a little uncomfortable, and the hard wooden rod in the crook of my elbows starts to be a little uncomfortable… but it’s not the worst position I’ve ever been in.

       For all my muscles and all that brute strength I’ve got though, it means nothing when you’re expertly bound, and I can do little but wriggle on the table.

       Back to the wriggling around helplessly in my escapable bondage, and Mrs. Lucy is there in front of me. “Comfortable?” she asks, before her mouth finds mine and her tongue begins to probe the inside of it. I moan an affirmation as the kiss drags on, and yelp when a hand slaps at my ass.

       “Get that ass up,” I hear Mr. Munroe say from behind me.

       I try my best to raise my hips and put my ass into the air, but it only makes me put more pressure onto my breasts and I groan as Mrs. Lucy’ tongue continues to probe my mouth. After a full minute, she pulls back and orders me to open up and I comply, only to have her tongue be replaced by a metal O’ring gag. I have to open wide to accommodate it and then bite down once it’s placed behind my teeth. I groan when she secures the wide strap around to the back of my head. It’s uncomfortable and I hate the thing; not only does it keep me from swallowing but it pinches my cheeks and I’m constantly sticking out my tongue with the damned thing in.

       “Stick it out,” she commands. Like I have a choice?

       It’s the damn tongue press, the two chopsticks with elastics wrapped around the ends. I whimper and then groan as she puts the thing onto the middle of my tongue, and now I’m doubly screwed. It not only traps my tongue but the chopsticks extend out passed my cheeks, so I have no choice at all but to keep it out.

       I’m whimpering in earnest now, but it doesn’t take long for me to cry out in shock when Mr. Munroe pokes me between the legs with the end of a cane. I want to cry out no but I continue to whimper until it finds the soles of my feet.

       “Going to start you off nice and slow,” he says, holding onto my right foot as the cane begins to tap away. “To warm you up.”

       It continues to tap and then “Whack!” one sharp hit is delivered and I cry out, my whole body convulsing and my foot shaking rapidly when he moves onto the other one. He repeats the process and I cry out once more when the stroke is delivered, a thin line of drool now streaming down my chin to the table from my opened mouth. He taps the same foot again and then another stroke is delivered and I cry out loudly and my whole body tenses.

       I feel him move around me. “Which foot” I hear him ask. “One or two?”

       I gurgle out a “one” and he switches to my left foot, holding onto the toes with his hand. The tapping begins again and then he says matter of factly: “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you want the pain to be?”

       What the hell? I have no answer and gurgle out two incoherent moans. “A ten?” he says. “Good answer.”

       The tapping begins again and I breathe deeply when I feel it finally leave my foot, crying out loudly when it returns. It’s excruciating, but one more stroke is delivered and I nearly scream, my whole body convulsing and shaking on the table and I pull on all my bonds. I can’t stop my feet from shaking and wiggling about, and that was only three stroke?

       He then comes around in front of me. “Open your mouth,” he says, his erect penis dangling in front of my face. Like I have a choice? And as if he has to tell me anyways, with the damn ring gag in my mouth. It finally dawns on me though why the larger ring was used.

       “Come on,” he coos, pushing the head of his cock into my mouth. That’s about all of it he can get in, with the tongue press on. “Get it nice and wet, because you know where it’s going.”

       I try my best to lap at it but it’s not like I can do very much, and he struggles to push more of it in. No luck, so he pulls the tongue press off and I squeal. “There we go,” he says, before his cock slips all the way into my mouth. “More,” he coos, pushing the thing down my throat. Normally I’d have to open my mouth wide to accommodate him, but the metal O ring in my mouth makes that unnecessary; it’s already open about as wide as it can. Drool is streaming down my chin and I make soft gurgling noises as he fucks my mouth with his cock. He fills it completely, arching his hips to urge me even deeper, and I take a deep breath and swallow as best as I can when I begin to choke.

       I feel Mrs. Lucy behind me and her fingers dip into my slit to gather moisture. “I hope you’re good and ready,” she coos, pressing the now slick-with-my-own-juices finger into my anus. Never one to talk with my mouth full, I mewl around Mr. Munroe’s cock and retch slightly as he pushes it all the way in once more. His hand on my neck keeps me down and fresh tears are brought to my eyes as he pistons it in and out. With the saliva pooling in the back of my mouth, I can barely swallow and the gurgling noises get louder as he fucks my throat.

       They switch places then, Mr. Munroe moving behind me and Mrs. Lucy coming around to kneel down in front of me, her face inches away from mine. “Let’s put this where it belongs,” Mr. Munroe says, and I feel his hands grab my thighs and press them open a little farther. His cock nudges the entrance to my ass and I squirm a little on the table. “Open it up,” he warns, and I try my best to accommodate him, relaxing my sphincter. He pushes it in with a loud “Ohhhh!” and soon he has the entire length of it inside.

       I moan out loud as he goes balls deep and my Mistress is there facing me as she takes my head in her hands. “So incredibly gorgeous,” she whispers, planting another kiss on my open lips as Mr. Munroe withdraws his cock. I moan again as it slips out of me, and then squeal when he pushes it back in. Unable to withdraw my tongue for very long and the drool from my open mouth leaving a long trail down to the table, Mrs. Lucy closes her mouth around my tongue.

       “Whose an anal whore?” he says as he begins to fuck my ass in earnest.

       I gurgle out an “I am” that’s barely understandable as my Mistress goes to stand beside me. “Whose an anal whore?” she asked, slapping my ass. “I am!” I call out again louder but no less intelligible. He fucks me a little faster, a little harder. “Whose an anal whore?” he asks, pushing in as deep as he can. “I AM!” I gurgle out again but no less comprehensible than the first two.

       “That’s a good girl,” my Mistress says as one hand reaches to grab my neck and the other reaches under my knee and between my legs. “Say it,” she says as her fingers find my clit. “Don’t stop saying it,” she continues as her fingers begin to rub it softly.

       I get the litany out three more times but then I’m lost as she replaces her ringer with a small bullet vibrator. “OOohhhhhhhh!” I call out as it finds my clit, the vibrations sending waves between my legs. They shoot up my body as she presses it in deeper, and soon I’m moaning from the vibrator buzzing on my clit and groaning from the cock plunging in and out of my ass.

       “What are you?” she asks. “I don’t hear you.”

       “Iiiii’mmm annnn aaaaaannnnnnal whhhhhhooorrrrrrrre.”

       “Don’t stop,” she commands, driving me mad.

       I get four more of them out as the cock pistons back and forth and before I feel Mr. Munroe pull out completely. I gasp when his cock slips out of me. The buzzing on my clit continues as he comes round to face me, his cock once again in my face.

       “Mmmm, that’s right,” he says as his cock finds its way into my mouth. “Come on,” he coos as he pushes it in deeper, the tears once again coming freely to my eyes. I gurgle around his cock and retch as it’s pushed in deeply.

       I cry out as loudly as I can when he removes his cock from my mouth, the vibrator pushing deeply into my clit. I’m in hysterics as the pulses assault my sensitive little button and I’m squirming around as much as I can when the cock once again enter my mouth.

       “Are you going to cum or not?” my Mistress commands teasingly, moving the vibrator in circles around my clit. I’m not sure which one of us she was talking to, and all I can do is moan loudly and gurgle and mewl around the cock in my mouth. Soon I’m convulsing all over though, the ropes being strained as I pull as tight as I can on all my bondage, and not even a minute after she asks I’m cumming my brains out. My whole upper body lifts off the table as I pull on the rod holding my arms behind me and my legs struggle to close shut and I scream loudly as the damn bursts and my juices begin to flow. My eyes roll up into my head and I feel Mr. Munroe tense up as well before hi cum shoots into my mouth and I’m cumming even harder as the vibrator isn’t removed. I struggle to swallow the hot semen as it shoots down my throat and my body shakes as the orgasm claims me and I’m lost in some other world when it begins to join the drool trailing down my chin.

       “So fucking gorgeous,” I hear them both say.

       When I come back to the real world, it seems like an eternity that I’ve been tied up on the table, but it’s really only been 10 minutes. Seriously, 10 freaking minutes? If the orgasm didn’t blow my mind, that revelation surely would have, but I had no real concept of time, so it could have been an hour for all I knew.

       I cry out again as the ropes leading up to the ceiling are finally pulled on and I’m raised up off the table a good inch. I cry out again as I raise another inch, and finally once more when I’m a good 3 inches off the table. When it’s removed, I’m hanging in the middle of the room at waist height, panting away softly. If my bondage wasn’t wholly uncomfortable before, it sure as hell is now as I’m essentially dangling from my elbows and ankles. To make matters worse, the soft rope around my neck, while not choking me or anything, makes it a little difficult to swallow.

       Still not bad enough to call a stop to everything, though. *wink*

       My Mistress is back between my legs once I’m swinging softly from all the wriggling in the air, and a vibrator is once again pushed between my legs. “Oohhhhhhhh!” I call out incredibly loudly as her fingers spread my lips open so that the vibrator can find better purchase between my legs. She holds onto my thigh as the “Ohhhhhhs!” are followed by even louder “Ahhhhhhs!” and soon I’m screaming out loud as my hips buck up and down and she rips another orgasm from my helpless body.

       I’m left to “relax” for a minute or two in my suspension and then my Mistress is back to face me, tenderness filling her eyes. The O ring gag is removed and I’m offered a drink once the cum and drool have been wiped away. She delivers another open-mouthed kiss and strokes my cheeks before pulling away. “Ready for round 2?” she smiles.

       Can I really say no? I can of course, but I guess the better question is, do I really want to say no?

       She comes back with a bucket of clothespins and I whimper as I see her lay it on the floor. Maybe I should say no afterall?

       “Stick that tongue out,” she orders softly.

       I comply a little too eagerly and guess what? I’m rewarded with a clothespin on the end of it and I give out a soft “ahhh” as it closes on my tongue. Her hands then reach down to my breasts, pinching my nipples. I’m “rewarded” with another pair of clothespins that pinch my areola, one on other side of each hardened nipple. I suck on the end of the clothespin that traps my tongue for a couple of seconds as the other ones are applied, moaning behind closed lips.

       My tongue once again sticking out, Mrs. Lucy moves behind me and her hands spread my thighs wide open as she moves between my legs. I moan softly as she pulls gently on my outer labia and then groan as a clothespin is applied to it. It follows with another just below the first and then she repeats the process on the opposite lip with another pair of clothespins.

       “Such a pretty little pussy.”

       All I can do is whimper and moan as my hips gently buck up and down and she finishes the process by slipping a small string into the crook of the clothespins and ties it around my upper thigh. This of course pulls my outer labia as wide open as they can possibly be, and every movement I make with my legs sends little shivers into my pussy. Of course, it makes me wriggle around a lot at first, spinning in my bondage, my hips bucking up and down until the initial pinching subsides and I can “relax” enough not to move around.

       “Let’s see that pretty little asshole of yours again,” I hear her say as she takes a hold of my knees in order to stop me from spinning around. I feel the tip of the rubber cock push at the entrance to my bum and I gasp as it slips right in. “Uuuuungh!” I cry out as it slides in further, then begin to moan as she slowly fucks me with the rubber dildo.

       “Here,” she says after only a few seconds. “Hold this.”

       With the cock firmly embedded in my ass, she puts the protruding base of it into my hands. “Yes Mistress,” I moan, the drool once again having formed a thin trail under my chin and flowing down to the floor.

       “What a pretty little girl,” my Mistress says, pushing gently on my knee so that I spin around. “and she lets me do whatever I want to her.”

       “Uh-huh,” I moan, trying my best not to wriggle as I spin around. “Yes Mistress,” I say as my hips have no choice but to rock up and down, thus sliding the dildo in and out, putting more pressure onto my already aching shoulders, tugging on my spread open and tugged at labia, and ever so slightly tugging the rope around my neck.

       “That’s it,” I hear her say. “I want you to fuck yourself with it.”

       My eyes open wide and they plead with her, but she’ll have none of it. “Come on.”

       I can’t move my arms the way they are tied, so I work the dildo with my wrists. In and out, I start to moan as I begin to fuck myself in the ass with it, but it doesn’t take long for my wrists to start to ache, and so I have to work my hips up and down. “That’s it,” she coos as I struggle in my bondage, every piece of the puzzle adding something a little different to the mix.

       

       She taps my cheek with the palm of her hand to get me to spin around again, and I buck my hips in earnest now as I work the dildo a little harder. I can’t do very much and I imagine it’s a sight to behold; trapped in an escapable contrapment of ropes, all I can do is lift my ass up and down or work the dildo with my wrists. When I do both, it’s excruciating and I close my legs as the sensations begin to build between them, but that only makes things worse and I quickly open them back up. It soon turns into an ordeal: when I can’t lift my ass up and down anymore, I work the dildo with my wrists; when I can’t work the dildo with my wrists anymore, I hold it tightly and lift my ass up and down; and when I can’t do either I’m forced to do both and my hips bucks.

       After a couple of minutes, she’s bent down in front of me and removing the clothespins surrounding my nipples and then the one on my tongue. I cry out when the little wooden teeth are opened and taken off. “I didn’t tell you to stop,” she says and I resume my own torment.

       I’m moaning like a dog in heat and my hips are buckling up and down madly when she takes my head in her hands. “That’s it, I want to see your face as you fuck yourself in the ass,” she says. “Now I want you to cum for me.”

       My eyes shut tight as I fuck myself with more vigour and it only takes a few seconds until my legs close shut and I’m shaking all over. “So beautiful,” she says and my cheeks are no doubt redder than a tomato. I’m lost again as the orgasm claims me and the shockwaves start to ripple all throughout my body. She holds my face in her hands and I haven’t stopped fucking myself with the dildo when I feel another orgasm rise right on the heels of the first.

       “Can I cum again?” I ask aloud. “Pleeeeeasese, Mistress? Please?” I plead.

       <In the real world, I have to take a break from writing for a second, because even I’m a little awed at that one. After being tied up into an inescapable hogtie and my limbs pulled back until they’re strained, after being skull fucked, having clothespins put onto my nipples and pussy lips, then fucked in the ass, then having not one but two mind blowing orgasms and fucking myself in the ass to get one of them.. after all that I’m still asking for more? Not only that, but I’m the one delivering it…>

       “Yeah, you can cum again,” she smiles.

       I close my eyes shut again and once more my hips are bucking even more wildly up and down. I shake even more violently then before as the second orgasm tears through my body and convulse all over, my legs closing and opening without any conscious thought and I have to let go of the fake cock in my ass as my eyes roll back and I cry out as I cum buckets full.

       “Wow.”

       It takes a minute or two for me to come down off the high and when I’m aware again, Mrs. Lucy is behind me, removing the clothespins from my labia. I barely feel them as they come off, still lost in my reverie to some degree, but then I cry out as a buzzing vibrator is pressed onto my clit. “UUUNNNNNNGGGGGGH!”

       I’m limp in my bondage as its pressed in deeper and she begins to work the dildo still imbedded in my rear. I can’t move anymore and I cry out as the sensations begin to build again. “Ahhhh, ahhhhh, ahhh” I cry as the dildo plunges in and out of my anus. “Ohhhh, ohhhh, ohhhh” I cry out as the vibrator buzzes on my clit. “MMmmmmm” I cry out as an orgasm begins to build up.

       It doesn’t take long. Shouldn’t it though?

       “OOhhhhhh, may I cum?”

       “Yes you may,” she replies.

       My legs snap shut and my body convulses once more and I shake ALL over as another orgasm is (torn? forced? ripped?) wrought out of me. “Wow indeed,” my Mistress says.

       When I’m finally done climaxing, and this one takes its time, I’m left to spin around and around for a few minutes while I settle down. Then she’s back between my legs and slaps at my pussy with her open hand to get my attention. I whimper when she takes a hold of the dildo still inside of me. “Let’s see if that little asshole gapes,” she says, easing it out of my ass. It comes out with a pop and a cry escapes my lips. “Ahhh, pretty close,” she says, slapping my ass cheeks with her hand. “You’ve got a pretty good ass there.”

       She comes around again to kneel in front of me, a hand caressing my cheek. “So what did you think of your little flying ass fuck?”  She pushes again gently to get me to swing back and forth.

       “Yeeeesss,” I moan as I swing back. “Unnnnn,” I groan as I swing forward.

       “You’re a dirty little whore aren’t you?”

       “Uuuuuuun,” I groan as I swing back. “I’m a dirty little whore, Mistress,” I say as I swing forward.

       “Good. I hope you’re ready for round 3.”

       That was Mr. Munroe. I had almost forgotten that he was there.        

       Believe it or not though, I was indeed ready for more, but all I could do was nod in response. Okay, maybe not ready for more, but I could handle some more. Yes, even four (or five?) orgasms later, I thought I could take another. In a strange way, I was almost comfortable hanging in the air; my elbows were a little sore and my arms were fatigued, but I felt secure in the bondage.

       

       He’s in front of me now, and his hands pinch my nipples. I give out soft little moans in response as his fingers close tight over each one, but then he’s got the rubber nipple clamps that lock in place in his hands. I whimper in protest and cry out loudly when the first one closes tightly over my right nipple, and again when the other is secured onto my left one. It takes less than a second and the clamps have got me ‘OOOoooing’ and ‘Ahhhing’ loudly, panting and drooling all the while.

       “Don’t forget about these,” Mrs. Lucy says, kneeling down before me. She’s got the big padlocks in her hands -- the ones they put on shipping container doors -- and they’re damn heavy. Once again, I give a loud cry as the first one is put onto the end of the nipple clamp, and again as the other padlock is put on the other. I give out a whole flurry of soft cries as gravity takes hold, and they come out in rapid succession as the padlocks sway back and forth.

       “You’ve got thirty seconds,” Mrs. Lucy says as she goes around behind me, then between my legs. Holding onto my knee to keep me steady (doing nothing to stop the sway of the padlocks, though), I once again feel the hum of a vibrator between my legs. “Ooohhhh, ohhhhhh, ohhhhh!” I begin to moan. I begin to buck my hips 5 seconds later and it does nothing to help my situation. “Make it good,” she says as the vibrator presses into the sweet spot. In another 5 seconds I’m wriggling and the padlocks swing from side to side, and in 10 seconds my hips are bucking and I’m in a flurry. She starts to count down from 10 and I’m oblivious to anything else. When she reaches 5, I’m almost at the top of the mountain. By the count of 3, my body has seized and by the count of 1 I’m convulsing, shaking all over as the orgasm crashes through me.

       It does crash, like a tsunami, and I’m screaming almost at the top of my lungs as the orgasm wracks my body. Once again, I’m left to hang for a couple of minutes until the orgasm subsides. I groan a moment later when I the weights are taken off the nipple clamps, they themselves still on. It’s a small relief but I’m thankful nonetheless.

       “I hope there’s some gas left in the tank.”

       I whimper and moan in response. Forget about nodding, or begging or pleading; silence is my new friend now. It only lasts for a moment though, and I cry out as the ropes are tightened and I’m arched almost to the breaking point; my ankles and arms are pulled up even higher and my elbows scream in protest as I’m put into an extreme back arch. Thin long strings are then tied around the ends of the clamps, and pulled back to thread between my nether lips and tied to my toes.

       They say suffering never looked so sweet, but I don’t know that I would agree.

       “One more orgasm before we let you down for good?”

       I should say no. I want to say no. God knows I should say no. Wouldn’t you say no? If I was in your place I would say no, haha. Then again if you were in my place, would you say no? Probably. Maybe? But do I say no? Could I even say no at that point? Would if I could, but I can’t, so I shan’t...

Pause-a-logue

Now I think after that, ya’ll deserve the littlest of pauses and maybe the littlest of explanations. That was rather intense afterall, no?

       First off, and the thing people don’t realize or understand or notice, is that endorphins are built up in the body in order to help with the pain. It’s often why I get spanked or caned beforehand, because once they’re built up, the endorphins go into a little tank in the brain. Then when I have an orgasm, those endorphins shoot out of the tank with great pressure and the orgasm is stronger. So the more pain I take at the beginning of it, the stronger the orgasms are afterwards.

       Then there’s my ass. I get a lot of attention back there because…? Well I’m an anal whore *smile*. A little spit and boom, it slips right in and anal orgasms are always the strongest. Don’t ask me why, because I could probably talk your ear off for an hour explaining it, but that’s the case.

       Now orgasms… you’d think 5 or 6 orgasms would be great, right? Well sometimes they are and sometimes they’re not. If you’re a guy reading this, think of it this way; when a girl makes you cum and afterwards they hold onto your dick and keep rubbing the head without mercy, well it gets annoying no? In my case I’m multi-orgasmic in most cases, but for girls there’s different kind orgasms and sometimes the second one can be annoying just like it here for a guy.

       And here starteth the anatomy lesson. Like I said, there are many different orgasms a girl can have, and not all girls can experience them all. There’s your basic clit orgasm nd that’s usually the most powerful as wlel it really serves no other purpose then to make you climax no? Depending on the girl, one of those can be enough and two can be more than enough. A third or fourth can be painfully pleasurable because she’s so ridiculously sensitive down there. Four or five, well you get kinda dumb in the head and six or seven can put you into a subspace. Eight or nine clit orgasms and you’re looking for trouble, and ten can get you broken and you’ll be babbling and not making any sense (see chapter 21) if you don’t pass out first.

       Other than that, the others are pretty basic. There’s the g spot and that can make you cum pretty hard and over and over again without the same effects as the clit orgasm. There’s an anal orgasm, from simply being fucked in the ass, and for me those are the second most powerful. Then there’s an orgasm from straight fucking, but those take a long time to build up and even then, it often takes something else to push you over the edge.

       Here endeth the lesson.

       And all in all, it was a great time all around and I’m still here right? Huzzah!!

       Now back to your regularly scheduled program…

Chapter 29

I followed them into the bedroom. Laid out on the bed were some coiled, leather straps and two large boxes.  I bit my lip as they just watched me expectantly.

       "Sit," Mrs. Lucy commanded.  When I complied, Mrs. Lucy took one of the piles of coiled leather and walked around the bed until she was behind me. I jumped slightly as two horizontal pieces of leather were fitted over my breasts; one band above and the other parallel just below them.  I shivered as the buckles were fastened between my shoulder blades. The metal was cold! A dividing strap ran vertically in the valley between my breasts, and I watched apprehensively as a third strap was fitted to my slender waist. I knew what that was for, and by now I’m sure you do as well.  Two slender chains were clipped to a small 'D' ring set into the leather at the small of my back, and I could feel the cool links as they hung, freely caressing my naked buttocks.

       My Mistress returned to face me, and took each strapped-in, rosy nipple between thumb and forefinger and pinched hard enough to make me wince.  She then gently pushed me enough to flop me onto my back.

       "Stay like that," she instructed.  I stared up at the ceiling and listened to the conversation between her and Mr. Munroe.  "Shall we fill her asshole, pussy, or both?" asked Mrs. Lucy.  "Not both, we may want to stuff something into her body while we are

out," came his reply. "The question is which hole would make the most impression on her?"

       "Well," Mrs. Lucy said slowly, "unless we strap it in, anything we put in her pussy might fall out if she moves around too much. If we fill her pussy now, we can make sure it stays filled.  We can leave her panties off and then if we decide to stuff her ass all we have to do is bend her over any waist-high surface and lift her skirt. Sound good?"

       My eyes shut tightly in mixed horror (and arousal?) as I listened to them. "Oh, no, no, not this again," I thought.

       “I think she needs to be warmed up first,” Mrs. Lucy smiled. I cringed.

       She grabbed my wrists and wrestled me over onto my belly.  Bracing myself against the far side of the bed, she stretched me taut.  I heard the loud SWISH before I felt the even louder THWACK! The leather switch landed squarely across the pale moon of my ass.

       "Ohhhhhhhhhh!"

       Swish, THWACK! 

       "NNNNnnnnggggggh!"  I began to struggle; not hard enough to truly get away, but enough to show my displeasure. The harder I struggled though, the harder the switch came down on my bare ass. I stopped struggling and just writhed as the stinging of the crop on my ass became more pronounced.

       My hips bucked and flinched with each stripe laid across my buttocks by the whippy crop. They switched places and Mrs. Munroe wielded it firmly, laying 10 welts across my tan globes. Tears almost came then, as the stinging ache grew and penetrated deeply into my lower body.  I twisted and writhed on the bed.

       “Come now,” Mrs. Lucy cooed, released her grip around my wrists to rub my buttocks with her palm, trying to assuage the stinging pain. “Up and present,” she finally said.

       Upon instruction, I clasped my hands behind my neck and lifted my knees to place my heels on the edge of the bed.  Then, reluctantly, slowly, I spread my knees as wide as possible to allow free access to my most intimate areas. I felt my face flush with embarrassment although I’d be through this a hundred times before.  “Eyes open,” Mrs. Lucy warned, and I saw Mr. Munroe holding a mirror, angled to give me an excellent view as Mrs. Lucy spread my pussy lips to  check for lubrication.  I could feel her fingers spreading my lips and saw the same action in the mirror.  I watched her dip one finger into me and moaned as I felt it at the same time. 

       I saw (felt!) my pussy lips spread, and felt (saw!) the fingers enter me and feel around. Round and round they went, two of her fingers disappearing full length into me. I watched then felt her add a third and squirmed as she began to work them. I moaned and wriggled as her thumb found my clit and began to rub it. "MMMMmmmmm," I moaned.

       “I think she’s wet enough already,” I heard Mrs. Lucy say, removing her fingers and slipping them into my mouth.

       My eyes widened when I saw her pick up a thick dildo with the other hands and set it's head against the  opening to my cunt.  It was a monster of a fake cock, ribbed to simulate the real thing. She began to push it into my cunt and I felt (and watched!) it disappear into my own pussy, feeling every inch. I groaned and I could see my nether lips thin as they stretched to accommodate the intruder. I could feel the tightening of my walls as the dildo was twisted and shoved deeper into my body.  Finally, all 7 inches were securely inside me  and I could see the small ring set into the otherwise flat base of the dildo.

       Both light chains from the leather belt around my waist were pulled up and through the ring in the base of the dildo and fastened to the 'D' on the front of the strap. 

       On command I rolled over onto my belly.

       I felt the chains detached from the 'D' ring on my back. One at a time they were pulled tighter, forcing the dildo higher and deeper into my twat. Then they were refastened, one each side of my waist.  I could feel the split chains framing my punished ass cheeks.  It left easy access to my ass for whatever amusement my tormentors could devise. I felt my ass cheeks parted and a generous glob of jelly massaged into my puckered  rosette.  A smooth cylinder was inserted and pressed deeply into my rectum, and I felt felt it slide into my greased anal passage and then it was yanked out.  A second blob of K-Y was squeezed onto my ass and a second, larger, smooth cylinder was shoved into me, taking the greasy jelly with it.  Both lubrications were done quickly, stretching my ass and ensuring that it was well-greased and opened for the evening.

       I stood on command, the larger cylinder still in my ass, and I whimpered as small nipple clamps were applied to my tits.  Looking down at my breasts and the torturous little devices starting to cause a dull ache in my nipples, I could see the end of the crop trailing between my feet.  They had shoved the handle of the switch up my ass! I stood there, humiliated, with my feet apart and my knees slightly bent.

       "Bend your knees a little farther and try to sit on the switch. Use the floor to shove it deeper into your asshole."

       It didn't matter who gave the order; I couldn't tell who told me to do it.  All that mattered was that I comply. I took a deep breath and bent my knees a little.  The tip of the switch flexed against the floor. I squatted a little more, and felt the handle shoved into my bum stretch my membranes and slide a little farther in.  With my knees bent and my legs spread I could see both my pussy and ass in the mirror that Mrs. Lucy held for me. My face was red and the rosy blush extended clear to the tops of my aching breasts.  I could see the leather wrapped switch hanging out of me like an obscene tail. I could see the fake cock forced so deeply into my cunt.  Even so, I knew that when I sat, it would be shoved even deeper into my pussy.

       "Now, reach back and jerk the whip out of your ass." 

       I gave them both my then famous little-girl look; all big-wide-eyes and lower lip sticking out, but did as I was told. 

       "Kiss the handle and lay it on the bed."

       I complied and turned to lay the instrument of pain and humiliation on the bed.  When I turned around again to face the pair watching me, Mrs. Lucy had pulled a red dress over my head and dressed me like I was a little girl. High-heeled shoes completed the summer outfit.  The top of the dress was a loose, blousy style which effectively hid the nipple-clamps on my nipples. The skirt was full and belted at the waist.  It would be very easy to lift it to gain access to my ass or pussy as required.  

       I was then instructed to go into the bathroom and wash up, apply my makeup and then go into the living room. I was to sit(!) on the couch, making sure I did *NOT* sit on my skirt. While I waited, I was to try and force the dildo as deeply as I could into my cunt without making myself cry.

       As I was told, I gingerly, carefully walked to the bathroom, and then to the living room.  Carefully, oh so carefully, I bent and seated myself on the couch.  I sat on the edge and spread  my legs to ensure the dildo touched the couch. Then I began to rock my hips, fucking the dildo against the edge of the couch. Soon the motion aroused my clit and I was just about to have a mini-orgasm when Mrs. Lucy and Mr. Munroe entered..

       They motioned me to stand, and as I did so, I gasped when the nipples clamps caught on the material of my dress. They caused a spasm of pain to lance across my chest and a different spasm to reach down between my legs. 

       The three of us went out to the car. I was made to climb into the back seat, the motions of my body making the dildo slide out a little, and I gasped and moaned as it slammed back into  me when I dropped  into the seat.

       We drove to a well-known restaurant downtown.  At the entrance the valet took the car and the three of us made our way into the crowded, dimly lit building.  I blushed, my face no doubt beat red. Surely everyone who looked at us could tell my bound, sexual, humiliation.  Couldn't they tell?

       There was a wait for a table and we went to wait at the bar. Mr. Munroe led us to a tall table with three stools partially hidden by bushy plants in one corner of the bar. It was some distance from  the lights and cloaked in shadows.  Few people in the busy bar

would be able to see what happened, and I looked around her with trepidation. Surely not here!

       Yes, here!  Immediately, behind the bush I was bent over the thigh high table and my skirt was lifted.  Questing fingers  shoved themselves into my prepared anal passage and worked back and forth inside me.  The buzz of conversation continued as  though nothing was happening to me.  Someone would come, a waitress would be here soon to get our drinks and still those fingers worked in my backdoor.  A second set of fingers joined the first, both of them working on my bum, displaying my tan, welted ass and bound state to anyone who walked by.  I felt my pussy begin to drip.  Four fingers were in my hole.

       I was pulled upright, at least two fingers still in my ass just as the waitress walked up to our table.  I stood, knees bent, my back to Mrs. Lucy, and gave my order in a quavering voice. “Peach martini, please.” All the while Mrs. Lucy’ fingers were busy in my ass, working in, out, in, out, in, out, in, out, in time with the flow of conversation.

       The waitress gave me a strange look as my eyes glazed over, and I blushed.  The full skirt and my position against Mrs. Lucy and the bush hid most of the activity, but the girl knew something was going on with the woman in red.  The waitress left and Mrs. Lucy jerked her fingers from my pucker.

       "Join me in the ladies room, Sarah." Mrs. Lucy phrased it as a demand.

       I followed my tormentress to the women's bathroom. Fascinated, I gazed at myself in the mirror.  At her instruction I braced myself against the counter and leaned forward. She took something out of her purse and lifted my skirt.  I felt the rounded tip press against my anal opening; obviously I was going to be plugged.  Firm pressure was applied, and I groaned as I was stretched open.  This was the first, huge plug they had used on me at home.  In, in, in, in, slowly in. Harsher and harsher, it stung my sphincter as it stretched. Then I felt it close around the groove I knew to be in the base of the plug.

       Mrs. Lucy dropped the red skirt back in place and we returned to bar.

       ‘Thank the f’ing stars no one came in!’ I thought as we made our way back to the table and the waiting man.

       We were led to our table and I was seated first. A big smiles told me that Mr. Munroe knew what caused my soft moan as the Maitre d' seated me.

       We ordered dinner and I ate mechanically, more because I knew I had to eat than because I could actually taste the food. All I wanted was an end to the evening. I could feel the two fake cocks rubbing back and forth against the thin membranes separating my cunt from my rectum.  I was highly uncomfortable from too much rubber shoved into my lower body.  I fidgeted and shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. I could feel other patrons in the restaurant staring.

       Mr. Munroe and Mrs. Lucy watched me, with smiles on their faces.

       Finally, my ordeal in the restaurant was over.  They paid, and the three of us left. Back home in the underground garage, Mr. Munroe was kind enough to help me out of the car, but then Mrs. Lucy bent me over the side of it.

       My red skirt was lifted and they both no doubt licked their lips at the sight of my bound, punished and plugged asshole. Mrs. Lucy grasped the ring in the base of the plug filling my ass and began to pull outward.  Not here! I almost cried out, but groaned in silence.

       I could feel the base stretch my hole and my head came up and I moaned loudly as the base of the plug began to retract. I clenched and unclenched my fists, but stood as I had been placed, bent over the trunk of the car.  Slowly the big plug was extracted from my ass, until with a POP it was reluctantly released by my sphincter.  I gasped.

 

       Back upstairs, all the leather straps had been removed and the thick rubber dildo taken out. Sandwiched in between them, Mr. Munroe at the back and Mrs. Lucy in the front, they fucked me good and proper before the clamps were removed.

Chapter 30

Another day brings with it more bondage. Who would have guessed, eh? An even better question though: what can you do in 20 minutes? Well let’s find out.

       I’m back in the center of the room, standing with my elbows bound behind my back and tied together with several loops that bind them together and then a single strand that goes around my shoulder and up behind my neck and then around and back to my other shoulder to press my arms together. Did I mention that although topless, I was wearing a short black skirt and heels?

        “Take off your shoes,” my Mistress commands, as she looks on approvingly from a few feet ahead of me. She’s sitting in her favourite chair and has a front row seat to the show; the best (and only) seat in the house.

       With a smile (or my usual grin that often gets me into trouble?), I kick each one off and fling them at the wall to my right.

       “Take off your skirt.”

       My grin fades to a smile and with my tongue out as I concentrate, I shimmy out of my skirt. I have to reach around awkwardly with my hands and can only pull at the sides of my skirt, but I eventually wriggle it down my hips and manage to get it all the way down my legs after a few hops and then finally step out of it. I use a foot to fling it at the wall too.

       “Nice job,” Mrs. Lucy says with a smile, coming up to deliver a kiss on my cheek. She steps in behind me with some more rope in hand, and this time I get my wrists bound. Around and around and around the rope goes until they’re very much secure. She presses her warm body into my back and her hands reach around to fondle my breasts. I moan in response as she kneads the soft flesh, and again as she cups them in her hands and lifts them up. Does she notice that I’m grinding my ass into her pelvis?

       In one expertly smooth motion, she twirls me around and has me bent over at the waist. “Spread your legs,” she commands as I look at her firm round ass rather than the floor. I do as I’m told and receive a few good slaps to my own ass in reward. “Let’s warm you up shall we?” With her right hand cupping my left breast firmly, the spanks me with her left. First one ass cheek and then the other, she delivers a good bakers down to each one and I “Oooooh” and “Ahhhh” as they’re all delivered. Her other hand never leaves my breasts and she fondles and kneads it all the while.

       She’s got me standing again in another fluid motion.

       “Alright, take your panties off.”

       It’s an extremely rare occasion that I’m actually wearing any, and originally I had thought that hell must have frozen over, but now I understood. The little light bulb in my head went off, and once again now with both cheeks ablaze and tongue peeking out the sides of my mouth, I do my little dance. I wriggle around and try to pull them down from the back, but I’m not having an easy time of it. “This is really hard,” I moan softly. It only takes a few more wriggles though until they’re down far enough and simply slide all the way down my legs. I step out of them and fling them to the wall.

       “Hrmph. I’m sure if there’s one thing you’re good at,” Mrs. Lucy smiles. “it’s taking off your panties.”

       She gets a giggle from me in response and I shuffle about on my feet, looking down at the floor. “I managed,” I say after a moment. “Mistress.”

       “Quite expertly at that,” she grins, coming back with yet another long piece of rope. “Open up,” she says, placing the double loop of rope at the back of my head and then brining it around between my lips. “Bite down,” she says and I do as she tightens it. “Let go,” she says as she ties a knot into the rope against my cheek. “Bite down,” she says again while she does something else with the rope that I can’t see, and then “Open up again,” as she loops it around my head twice more. “Bite down,” she command once more so that she can tie another knot on top of the first knot, and then “Open up,” again as she’s left with a long strand of rope.

       “Up, up, up,” she coos as she pulls the length of rope high above my head. I rise up onto my tiptoes and stare up as she secures it somewhere above me.

       She returns with the flogger a moment later and it finds its way to my bare breasts. I grunt as she slaps the top of them, grunt again as she slaps the bottoms and then again as she slaps the sides. All around she works my now heaving breasts, then she moves the flogger to my ass and I do a little dance for her on my tiptoes.

       She comes back again with some more rope and I give a little whimper (as I’m in the habit of doing). This one she loops around my upper body, going around the top of my breast and behind around my arms, coming around the bottom of my breasts and finally secured to the rope that’s keeping my elbows together.  Another rope is tied in the front between those ropes and pulled tight, bringing the top and bottom ropes together and squishing my breasts. She then uses the same rope to bind first one and then the other into not-so-little balls on my chest.

       

       “Perfect,” she says.

       I look at her with wide eyes. ‘Really?’ I want to say sarcastically, but give her a moan instead. Really though, I’m never one to object to a little breast bondage, am I?

       “Spread them wide,” she orders, and I struggle to open my legs as wide as I can while on tiptoes. Once I’ve got them good and wide, she ties my ankles to large d-rings that are bolted in the floor.        When she’s back in front facing me, it’s to place little rubber clamps onto each nipple.

       “Would you consider yourself a slut?” she asks with a smile.

       Can I say no, I’m not? I nod in response. “Yes, Mistress,” I mumble around the four loops of rope that are in my mouth. I’m rewarded with the vibrator between my legs and the moans start coming in earnest. I’m breathing hard after only a minute of the thing between my legs, and “Oooohhhhhh-ing” loudly the next. Two and a half minutes in, I’m asking for permission to cum. My Mistress says yes and around the three minute mark, my eyes roll up into my head and my body shakes all over as the orgasm hits and I cum all over the vibrator in her hand.

       As I cum, she reaches up to take the clamps off my nipples and I continue the ride. Like a surfer whose found the perfect  wave, my body convulses and I get a perfect hang-10.

       “Good girl,” she says, standing to get some more rope. “Pretty much what you say you are.”

       Mrs. Lucy comes back with yet another long length of rope, and this one finds its way around my waist. She loops it around three times for good measure and it sits on top of my hips, then brings it up between my ass cheeks and through my pussy lips to the front. Even pulled tight, a length of it remains, and this she ties off to a d-ring set in the floor a few feet in front of me. “A good start,” she says, moving around behind me. When she pulls on the rope that’s around my mouth, I’m raised up even higher on my toes and doing all I can to stay upright. “Go ahead and struggle with that,” she whispers. “This is my orgasm right here.”

       I do indeed struggle as my head is pulled up by the back and I’m staring at the ceiling now. I struggle some more as I’m on the very tip of my toes practically, and struggle even more as the crotch rope is pulled down to the floor while I’m pulled up.

        “I’ll be right back,” she says, and I dance and cry in the position she’s left me in. I cry out as I shuffle a few centimeters forward, and cry out as I shuffle back again. I cry out as I shuffle from one foot to the other, and cry out again as I shuffle a few centimetres right and then again a few centimeters left. I’ve really got nowhere to go, or rather I’m really unable to go anywhere.

       It feels like an eternity but it’s really only 2 minutes when she comes back and I’m allowed back down on my feet. She unties my ankles and I’m able to stand straight once more, and then releases the rope from the ceiling so that I can have my head back. She unties the rope gag and I give her a soft little “Thank-you, Mistress” and think that’s going to be it, but then she brings her chair around and takes a seat.

       With her hands on my hips, she turns me around so that my bum is in her lap. “Come on now, make me cum in my pants like a real stripper.”

       My hands, elbows and shoulders tied behind my back, all I can really do is wiggle my bum in her lap… but I’m quite good at it. I wiggle my hips and move my bum in her lap like a true pro, working my ass as thought she had a cock between her legs and shimmy up and down her lap. I gyrate and sway my hips and can only imagine the grin on her face, so I turn around to rub my bound breasts into her lap and there it is. She turns me back with her hands on my hips and I continue to work my bum around and around, up and down. “How about some dirty talk?”

       I’m glad I’m facing away from her because my cheeks are beat red despite the smile on my face. “Mmmm, you like it when I rub my big ass in your lap?” I say as I bend forward and roll my ass around. “Or when I stick my round ass in your face? Grind my tight wet pussy in your lap like that?”

       Hah, I can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth, but I guess someone taught me well? If she had been a guy, I’m sure she’d have cum in her pants by now. Garun-damn-tee she would have blown her load. “I’m your dirty little slut.”

       I turn around again, but only to put my bound tits in her face so that she can motorboat them this time, then slide them down her body and turn around to sit in her lap once more. I gyrate again and do my little dance. “You’re not bad.”

       Not bad? Hrmph. If I had half a mind, I’d tell her she was full of….

       She grabs a handful of my ponytail and pulls my head back until I sit down fully in her lap. With her other hand, she grabs my neck under my chin to turn my head to the side, and plants the biggest damn open-mouthed and tongue filled kiss you could ever imagine onto my lips. It’s then I see the look in her eyes and the grin on her face, and feel the wetness between her legs.

       Like I said, not bad my ass…

Chapter 31

Another day and I’m being creatively bound on/to a chair; a simple wooden one that has an open back with a single bar/post in the middle between the two on the sides.  I’m seated on it backwards, my chin resting over the top of the curved back.

       My neck is bound first, with several loops that are then tied off around the top of the chairs' back. I can move my head from side to side, but that’s about it, and the wood presses into the crook of my neck. I have to scoot my ass to the very front edge of the seat, which bends my knees and although I’m seated, raises my feet onto the tips of my toes. My ankles and wrists are then bound to the back legs, and even my big toes are tied, to keep my feet on the outside of the chair. My ass sticks out even more than it already is.

       A large metal ring gag hovers in front of my face, and I have to open my mouth as wide as it’ll go before it slips behind my teeth and the strap is buckled behind my head. Now I can’t even move my jaw, and with the base of the chair resting in the crook of my neck making it hard to swallow, the ring in my mouth makes it doubly as hard to do so and adds that little bit more to my torment.

       My breasts are pushed through the back of the chair, the single round post in the middle separating them, and out comes some more rope. Around and around each one it goes and they’re soon turned into two perfectly round orbs on my chest, my nipples hardening and getting all puffy. The ropes surrounding my breasts are then tied to the side posts of the chairs back, separating them and keeping me in place. I pull back a little, testing my bonds, but I’m stuck.

       I can wiggle my ass a little and just barely move it up and down, wiggle all my toes except the big ones (they’re tied to remember?), flex my fingers. move my head from side to side and barely forward or back, and move my tongue around as it’s forced to stick out of my mouth, but that’s about it. I can’t move my neck, my arms, my legs, nor even my feet. I wiggle my nose as I pull on my bonds, and that brings a smile to Mrs. Lucy’ face as she realizes she’s not quite done.

       A rounded, stainless steel nose hook dangles in front of my face, and I give a little whimper as it’s slipped into my nostrils. Once it’s in, the little string on the end of it is pulled back and tied off to the strap behind my head, pulling my nostrils up along with it.

Oink oink, now I can’t even wiggle my nose.

       Mrs. Lucy starts by oiling my perfectly tanned ass and I moan and give soft little coos as she massages it into my flesh.

       “Ready?” she finally asks when she’s done.

       How about I say no for once? Even as the thought creeps into my mind, we all know how that turns out. I gurgle out a “Yes, Mistress.”

       She starts with the cane on my ass, and soon I’ve got nice, beautiful little red marks contrasting my tan, oiled skin. She only gives me a dozen strokes, but it leaves 6 perfectly indented red lines on each cheek. I give out soft ‘Ahh’s’ with each stinging stroke, but she’s not cruel in her ministrations and they’re only about a 6/10 on the scale. They sting at first and throb for a bit but it quickly goes away and the marks will fade by the next morning.

       I pull myself taught, fighting the urge to run, to flee as the pain became my new world. She was good with the cane, though (and whatever else she chose to use). I could feel the welts forming on my tanned flesh, but knew I did not bleed. Blood rushed to the offended area in a vain attempt by my body to put out the fire there, not none of it leaked out of me. That took skill and no small amount of practice. The strokes came quickly and surely, and all I could concentrate on was the flow of pain from my backside into my dripping sex.

       Deliciously swift and inescapable blows. Merciful and relenting blasts; this wasn’t a punishment, after all. Simply a warm-up. A way to build up those endorphins to be used later on.

       She moves around in front of me then with the cane still in her hand, and I’ve got an idea what’s to come next. No surprise, but it finds my bound breasts and soon I’m crying out softly. She’s dialled down the strokes and they’re really only about a 2/10, but with my breasts bound with rope, they’re all hard and sensitive and the strokes feel much worse than they actually are. I tug on the ropes holding them and try to pull my breasts out from inside the back of the chair, but it’s no use.

       Soon Mrs. Lucy has got me whimpering and breathing hard, and she even makes a little game of it; slapping at one until she’s got me panting like a dog and my eyes start to roll back, and making me beg for her to switch to the other breast. When she finally thinks I’ve had enough, she brings over a large wooden step and places it onto the floor ahead of me.  Stepping up onto me, she straddles my head between her legs. "You know what I like, now do it," she commands softly. 

       I go to work on her, using my tongue to probe the opening to her vagina, before locking in on her clitoris. I can’t close my lips around it so I work my tongue around her clit in circles, and lap at it up and down. It doesn’t take long for her hips to begin shaking and I feel her legs begin to buck, but she pulls away before she climaxes.

       Mrs. Lucy stands back then kneels forward to kiss me deeply, licking her juices from my lips."Mmmm.  I taste good, don't I?"  I nod in agreement. Like fresh strawberries.

       "Now, it's time for your surprise." There was a child-like glee in her voice.

 

       She comes around to show me the huge enema bag and my eyes open wide. "This is how the game works," Mrs. Lucy explains in a matter-of fact tone, "I'm going to give  you the three quarts in this bag, and once it's is empty, you will have to hold it for ten minutes before you get to let it out.  I will make you work for every drop, and if you stop pleasing me, I will stop the flow until you figure out what I want.  Remember that the ten-minute clock doesn't start until the bag is empty, and I've got all day.  After this enema, there will be one more to rinse the soap out of you, and then it will be time for an ass fucking you won’t soon forget.”

       She pauses dramatically to let her speech sink in. “Oh, and don’t let any water leak out.” She reaches up and withdraws the nozzle from the mouth of the bag.  It was a good six inches long and about an inch in diameter.  She smears it with KY jelly, humming a little tone under her breath. It was a happy sound, and I felt myself grin before she pushed against my anus, sliding the nozzle inside me. I feel every millimeter as it inches its way inside me, and I make those little small sounds of surrender that I knew she likes.

       I groan and try to impale myself on it reflexively, and she pushes it home with a twist.  I hear a click, and immediately feel the hot water flooding into my bowels and within a minute, I’m cramping and whimpering softly, but then Mrs. Lucy turns off the flow.  "I've got all day, baby girl," she reminds me. "How about you? Wouldn't you like to get this over with?"

       She holds the nozzle firmly in place as I start to squirm, then she walks around to re-settle herself in front of my face, stepping up onto the platform so her glistening lips are a few inches above my nose.  "Reach for it," she commands, but what am I supposed to do with my neck tied to the chair? I try to stick my tongue out a little farther but it only goes so far after all, and I can only move my head forward a couple of centimeters at most. She strikes the top of my left thigh with the cane once, and my tongue struggles to reach her, before she moves forward after a few good seconds later.

       I lock in on her clitoris as the cane finds my ass once more, criss-cross lines forming on my blazing cheeks. I can’t close my lips around it so I work my tongue around her clit in circles, and lap at it up and down. It doesn’t take long for her hips to begin shaking and I feel her legs begin to buck. “Look up,” she orders, and I do, my big brown eyes locking on her big blues.

       I start licking her in long, slow strokes.  "Perfect," she murmurs, "perfect," and I hear that ominous click again.  “That’s it. Right there." I shift my attention to her clitoris and massage it with the tip of my tongue.  Mrs. Lucy groans in approval, leans forward and reaches for the squeeze bulb.  "Let's pump you up a little," she says in a teasing tone, and gives the tube inside me a few sharp squeezes.  It expands three times and I feel my pussy shiver. I was invaded, flooded, pressurized, and breathing in deeply now. 

       I didn't know how I was going to take the whole bag, let alone hold it for ten minutes. I had a lot of control back there… I mean she conditioned and taught me pretty well after all, but still. Finally, the bag was emptied with a slurping sound, and Mrs. Lucy moves off the step platform to retrieve a kitchen timer, which she sets for ten minutes.

       "Unnnggg,” I groan. “Please, Mistress…" I almost whine.

       "That's OK, dear.  I'll help you," she coos.  "Let's get that nozzle out of you. Clamp down now, don't lose any water." 

       She deflates and slides it out and I clench my buns together as tightly as I can once I feel it leave my bum.  Mrs. Lucy then walks across the room and returns with an inflatable anal plug and holds it up for me to moisten with my tongue first. She works it into my mouth, slickening it in the pool of saliva. Moving back around to my behind, she pushes the plug past my clenched sphincter and gives the pump three healthy squeezes once it’s fully inside.  Suddenly, I felt like I had an orange in my rectum. She tugs on the plug a few times and nods her approval; it’s not budging.  Then she tells me to relax and let the enema work.

       I can feel the pressure building to an almost uncomfortable level, but Mrs. Lucy merely watches the growing sheen of sweat of my face, the small movements of discomfort as I wriggle on the chair. She kneels beside me finally, begins rubbing my abdomen. The massage feels really good, not too rough but gentle, her fingers kneading my stomach and the pressure of the water seems to dissipate as she rubs.

       A couple of minutes later, it’s Mr. Munroe that fills my field of vision and no surprise, but he’s naked. “My, what a lovely present,” he says, his cock dangling in my face. “You know what to do,” he says without moving forward.

       I have to strain in my bondage like before when my Mistress stepped up to the plate. I fumble to get the head of his cock into my mouth as it gently bobs back and forth. Finally, he inches forward and slips the head passed the ring keeping my mouth open. I try to suck it like a lollipop, like a good girl, but I can’t even squeeze my cheeks because of the ring in my mouth. He pushes it all the way in then, and I feel a vibrator work its way in between my legs. I moan loudly as it nudges my clit, and soon I’m wriggling on the chair as he begins to fuck my mouth and the vibrator starts working its magic between my legs.

       “Don’t you dare cum,” my Mistress orders, her fingers spreading my pussy lips so that the vibrator can find my clit more easily.

       The aching in my belly is enough to take my mind off the buzzing between my legs, and though I feel an orgasm beginning to rise, I don’t think it’ll be a problem holding it off.

It’s not easy work, mind you, but I manage. My mouth and tongue are warm and soft on his cock, but Mr. Munroe is able to hold off his own orgasm as he fucks my mouth with more vigour.

       After a few minutes longer, I feel a tug on the plug inside of my ass and I feel Mr. Munroe begin to seize at the same time. “Ready?” Mrs. Lucy asks and he nods, his hand on the back of my head now.

       Wait, was she asking me or asking him?

       I feel the plug being pulled just as the first stream of cum shoots into my mouth, and when the deflated rubber comes out with a soft pop, I give a loud cry as more cum shoots into my throat and we cum at the same time. I’ve no choice but to swallow with the cock still firmly in my mouth, and the buzzing on my clit had me right on the edge… but once the plug was pulled, I couldn’t control myself any longer and I tightened at the ropes holding me to the chair and cum incredibly hard.

       The orgasm also makes me unclench my ass cheeks involuntarily, the water rushing out from me, clear soapy water shooting out my back end like a hose as Mr. Munroe cums in my mouth, working the base with his fingers so that he continued to shoot load after load down my throat.

       My cheeks were ablaze. One end was filled just as the other was emptied.

       I get a little rest and then a drink of water to wash down the semen and it’s time for round 2. A large black rubber ball gag takes the place of the O-ring one, the straps pinching my cheeks as it’s buckled behind my head. Between the nose hooks and the ball gag in my mouth, I now look like a true little piggy. Oink oink.

       “MMmmmmmmmfff!” I moan, biting down on it as I feel the nozzle being inserted one more time.

       Mrs. Lucy softly asks, "Whose ass is this?"

       I reply as best as I can with the gag in my mouth and mumble out a "Yours, Mistress, whenever you want it, Ma’am,” although I don’t know if she understands all that, as muffled as it was through the gag.

       I get the B_a_r_d_e_x nozzle, the exceptionally long one that feels a little funny going in, but when the balloons are inflated, some of it rests in the very beginning of the large intestines, and once its past that point you don’t feel anything but the pressure. “Just relax now, and let it happen.” I could smell my own lubrication. I must be just drenched.

       She puts the end of the tube against my ass and pushes slowly. It slips in easily and I moan with it. I closed my eyes and it feels like it’s going in forever, until it’s the way in. She holds it in place, and I hears a small sound; the balloons were being filled. The feeling was very strange, slowly getting bigger inside me. First one then the other, and I’m rewarded with the feel of still-warm water begin to fill me.

       Apparently she has other things in mind this time and wants me to be filled quickly, as I can sense that the flow of water is not being tapered, the three-quart bag slowly shrinking as it emptied. The pressure was starting to become incredible and Mrs. Lucy moves down again, rubbing my stomach. It helps, but I can feel some slight cramps and sweat started to form on my legs.

       She then tells me to raise my ass and as I move to comply, I feel the first stinging bite of the riding crop, right above my buttocks, where it's the most sensitive. I cringe and cry out and by then I'm beginning to feel the first cramps from the enema. She senses this and tells me to relax ... and strikes me again, while saying, "Sarah, you will not expel any of that water until I tell you to do so." I nod my head in acceptance, while wondering to myself how I was going to get through this.

       Right as I think this, she says, "Don't worry, pretty little girl ... only 20 strokes for now, or until the bag is empty."

       "Ah", I think to myself, "20 strokes is not so bad."

       As I try to relax more because my stomach is cramping again, it becomes apparent that I have made a wrongful assumption. The next strike of the crop is much more powerful than the first one was, and the next after that even more so. I begin to try and distance myself from the pain, while also trying not to clench from the blows and the cramping. Just when I think my stomach is going to explode because it feels so full, she reaches the 20th stroke and I feel the nozzle pulled out of my ass in one quick motion.

       

       I clench my cheeks together then just as before, in order to keep any of the water for coming out. It’s not the easiest thing to do in the position I’m in, seated and all, and it takes all my concentration to hold it in.

       “Did I mention you weren’t going to get any help this time?”

       My eyes widen and I lose my concentration for a second, but it’s enough to let a little of the water escape. For the first enema, I had a plug to keep it in, but this time it looked like I wasn’t getting anything to help keep it in and would have to rely on my own sphincter muscles. If the first hadn’t been bad enough, the second was looking to be even worse.        

       “10 more strokes for that.” Mrs. Lucy says in that matter-of-fact voice of hers.

       All I can do is whimper behind the ball gag.

       "10 more strokes, then I will leave you to hold what you have inside for 5 minutes.”

       I am calculating the timing in my head, realizing that it's already been 5 minutes since the bag emptied, will probably take another few minutes for the next 10 strokes, then add another 5 for simply waiting. As I wonder if I can hold it inside this long, I look back meekly, with my eyes lowered and simply reply with a muffled, "Yes, Mistress".

       "Good girl", Mrs. Lucy says. She then tells me to raise my ass higher once more and as she speaks, I see her reach for the heavy leather flogger. Before my eyes can widen in surprise, she has grasped the handle and dealt a stinging blow across my left breast, then another of the same to the right. She stops for a moment, bends over and barely touches my pussy with one finger. "You're cunt is absolutely dripping wet, did you know that, my sweet slave?"

       Without waiting for a reply, she then strikes me there, right between my widely spread legs ... it was so totally unexpected that I can't help but jump from the sudden stinging pain. A single little squirt of water leaves my anus before I clench my cheeks once again.

       "Oh no, little slut...you know that is not allowed. I will punish you more later for that, and any more will result in 20 more blows for each release.” She then proceeds with the remainder of the 10 strokes to my front side, alternating between my left and right breast, with the 10th blow once more to my oh-so tender pussy and I cannot help the moan of pain that escapes my lips on this last blow. Once more, I have no choice but to relax my anal muscles and more water spurts out.

       You know that game at the amusement park, with the spurts of water coming out a small hole? I feel like the living embodiment of that game, at the moment.

       “Tsk, tsk.”

       As she gets up, she kneels in front of me and takes a hold of my chin in one hand.

There’s nothing but tenderness and love in those big blue eyes, and despite my current predicament, I return the stare with as much of it as I can in my big browns.

       "You have done well thus far, my little cunt. During this five minutes while you're alone, think hard about whether you want to continue and keep in mind while you are contemplating, that you already have an additional 60 blows coming, with any implement I choose for those three times you have already disobeyed ... and these are on top of what I already had planned for you. Think on this, and when I come back, you’re going to get that ass fucking I promised and you will let me know whether you still want some “more” after.”

       Oy vey! Qu'est-ce que pensait-elle? Qu'est-ce que je pensais?

       She kisses my forehead before she takes her leave, but when she comes back in 4 minutes instead of 5. I’m still doing all I can not to blow a gasket. Literaly.

       “Time’s almost up,” I hear her say as she enters the room again, arm-in-arm with Mr. Munroe. “But I’m bored, can we play a little first?”

       My eyes open wide. “MMmmmmph?” I mumble around the gag in my mouth.

It’s taking all I can not to dispel the water inside me, and now she no doubt has some evil intention in mind. “MMmmmmmphh!” I mumble again.

       I know the drill by now, and so does she. I can pull and yell and scream all I want, and it doesn’t actually mean I want to go home. I’ve got a safe-word to use, and even gagged I mumble it out, but it doesn’t find my lips.

       Mrs. Lucy is there in front of me now, holding the little nipple clamps that have rubber mouths on the end. They’re the ones that go right on your nipple rather than behind it, and I whimper as she puts them on. I whimper again softly as she ties a little string onto the end of each clamp, and then give out a soft, muffled “Oh!” as it’s wiggled and then an “Ah!” as she pulls on the string and ties it off to a d-ring set in the base of the step in front of me. I look down and they’re being pulled a good inch from my breast.

       “So much control,” she coos, moving in behind me as Mr. Munroe steps up onto the platform in front of me. I feel her poke at my anus with her finger, but it’s clenched shut. “Let’s test it shall we?”

       I hear the thwack of the flogger before I feel it, and cry out as it lands on my back. It’s the really big one she’s using, which has thick, dense leather tails and I cry out as it lands again.  The strikes are intense, a combination of thud and sting, but they quickly fade and it’s not that bad; somewhere between the line of pleasure and pain, between a massage and a spanking.

       “Let’s fill that mouth with something else shall we?” Mr. Munroe says, unbuckling the gag from behind my head. I have to open wide as he takes it out, and it’s positively drenched in saliva and drool.  He discards it on the floor and as I flex my jaw a bit, his cocks finds its way into my mouth. I gurgle loudly as he begins to fuck my throat.

       At the same time, I get eight more lashes which are followed by eight muffled “Ahhh’s” and then she switches to my ass, making the cane marks fade away and my bum turn into an overall red.

       He takes a firm hold of the hair at my damp temples, gripping me as he shoves me down onto him, his smooth thick pole surging to the back of my throat so I choke. He holds me firmly in place for a moment, then retracts his cock and begins to thrust repeatedly, fiercely into my gullet. I can hear the sound in my own throat as I gag on him - gluk gluk gluk – straight out of a porn movie, and I was now the little facially-abused slut. He pulls right out, leaving my lips drooling before him.

       “Want some more?”

       I stare past his saliva-wet cock, straight into his eyes. “Yes, Master,” I cooed. There is a little-girl meekness to my voice that belies a whole lot less. I stare at him languorously and open wide, inviting the renewed plunge. When it arrives, it was at least as demanding as the first and I triy to take it all the way down this time without flinching, swallowing him to the balls and letting him fuck my face. His length fills my mouth and attacks my throat. He withdrews again and I let my mouth slobber freely, never breaking his gaze.

       I cry out when the cane finds my thighs, and then my calves.

       “More?” he asks.

       “Yes, Master.” To say that I craved his cock back in my mouth, well dignity be damned. My mouth agape to take in his organ’s bobbing head, he went in once more, and I take the length of it nearly to the base in a single fluid motion. I was rather impressed, and he was almost taken aback to find his cock all but engulfed by my greedy mouth. Then his hands tighten on the back of my head and I was hauled tighter onto him, taking the last of him down. He holds my face there, lips adhered to his trimmed pubic zone, my gaze homing in on his and holding the look.

       Two can play at that game.

       So deep and wet – my throat contracting so tight, my wicked tongue flicking out to serve drool all over his balls. I was feisty with my mouth, but he did nothing til I finally tried to pull myself back to suck in air. I was nearly smirking and my heart was thumping from the sheer sport of it all. I had taken all he had given, taken it with aplomb.

       When he pulls out again, I suck in a lungful of air then swirl my tongue around the head of his cock, noticing how his stomach muscles bunch in reaction. I haven’t stopped playing and I smile a little before he plunges it back into my mouth, and I try to work my tongue around the cock. I groan and gag just a little bit as he hits the back of my throat again, and with each plunge he pushes harder, faster. My eyes threatening to water from the gagging, I lose myself for a little bit as my juices flow freely down my thighs.

       “MMmmm, your mouth feels amazing little whore.” He says huskily.

       I get only a few more strokes from the cane until she discards it on the floor. “Okay, I think you’re ready.” She kneels beside me then, motioning for Mr. Munroe to come and join her. “You’ve got to see this,” she coos, placing the vibrator once more between my widely spread legs.

       She thumbs the setting up to a medium and has me squirming on the chair in no time, the sensations between my legs quickly building despite the cramps in my belly and my now blazing ass cheeks. Once again it’s taking all I can not to let go of the water inside me, and I close my eyes shut as the moans begin to come.

       “I want you to cum for me,” my Mistress says, but I keep my eyes shut. We played this game once already, and I know as soon as I do, I’ll be forced to expel the water inside me.

       She thumbs the vibrator a little higher and I’m crying out. “What’s my name?” she asks, and I’m lost for a second. “Yes, Ma’am!” I mumble, still lost between the cramping in my belly and the buzzing between my legs. “What’s my name?” she asks again. “Ma’am?” I answer. My calves and my thighs and my ass are all red, and I’m right at the egde of an orgasm. “What’s my name?” she asks again, more forcibly. “Lucy?” I reply, and she pulls the vibrator away.

       “Oh boy,” she coos. “You’re in trouble.”

       The vibrator returns and I’m back to moaning, lifting my ass off the chair. “You move and this stops,” she warns. I settle my ass back down and the vibrator pushes against my clit. “OOooooohhh!” I cry out, shaking all over. “Pleeeeeease, may I cum Mistress?”

       “No,” she says, and I whimper.

       I’m shaking all over. “Please, Mistress?” I beg.

       “No.”

       The vibrator hasn’t left and it’s got me in a damn frenzy as the beginning of orgasm begins to roll over me inexorably. I’m copiously moist, but it’s not from the water trapped inside my bum as it all remains inside. I’m crying out now.

       “Plllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeease, Mistressssssss.”

       “No.”

       My body is shaking all over, sweat glistening, and I pull on my bonds. “Pleassse, Mistress?”

       “No.”

       I can’t help it, I’m going to blow. “Pleeease, pleaaase, pleeeeease.”        

       “Alright, you can cum.”

       The lights in the room swim and it’s a monumental event for all involved. When I cum, it’s an explosion of violent dimensions. Huge and enormous, my sweating face twisted with it. My jaw clenched and lips drawn back from my white teeth, eyes rolled to the back of my head, my body jerking and seizing against my bonds. It’s punishingly delicious, shatteringly erotic. I erupt, unable to contain myself any longer, it’s too much.

       The orgasm sweeps over and annihilates me, rocking the very foundations of my existence until my breath freezes in my lungs. Heart beating as though trying to escape my chest, I cry out with it, moaning, my body twitching with sharp, violent jerks. “It’s too much,” I think, tension nailing me to the chair. I tried to close my legs but it was impossible, and they started to shake, my thighs twitchted. I saw them move away from me, to the side, and felt my orgasm sweeping me. I exploded with it, my body forcing it from me with the vigor of my extremity. I screamed with it.

       Not caring that they saw me losing control so completely. I had done what I was told to do, and this was my reward. My legs immediately start to cramp, but I kept coming, again. The chilly fluid rinsing the lower part of my legs. I strained against the bonds, shaking in sensual indulgence and gratifying pain. Mumbling under my breath as the tremors shook me. Softer even than a good beating, the water I had been holding flows over my cunt, sending little shivers through me.

       Still, she doesn’t stop. Driving me higher and higher to the plane of sensual gratification. I cry out shrilly as the series of convulsions shake me again. It goes beyond thought into animal instinct, a point where only one thing has any meaning. Sex, pleasure, the pain of touch.

       A pinnacle of voluptuous sensuality, like nothing I had ever known before, is reached. I orgasm for a third time and it rolls over me, stretching my taxed body to its limits and tearing a deep-throated cry from my throat. Unable to move, her hands holding my sweaty hips to the chair with relentless efficiency. Nothing I can do could dislodge me from my trembling grotto. Panic made me try futilely to do so, but it was hopeless. I feel my overflowing climax exclusively in the deep valley between my legs, my body taut, breath held rigidly behind clenched, aching teeth. Fingers in spasm, my heart trying to beat its way from my chest and experiencing for the very first time, the annihilating drama of Le Petit Morte. The Little Death, in my supreme affliction. Pain rolling through me and over me.

       Pushing me farther than I had ever been before in pleasure. I couldn't take it.

       A fourth orgasm sweeps me. Bigger, louder, more shattering to my body. Too much, she has to stop. I can take no more of this unbearable pleasure. I pull on my bondage uncontrollably, but I was stuck and climaxing again as she brings me to an orgasm that has me passing out from pleasure.

       I fall into blessed, merciful darkness.

       What a treasure, I must be.

Chapter 32

When I come back to the land of the conscious, I’m still bound to the chair but by breasts are being untied and the clamps taken off; the sudden limpness of my body must have alerted them to the fact that something was wrong with the person tied to the chair. I couldn't see for a couple of moments and my face was white. Feeling a queer whirling in my head, it was only a momentary thing.

               

       “Mmmmmm?” I give a soft moan before any more of the ropes can be undone.

       We talk a little, and there’s a softness in her voice when she asks if I’m fine. When I say yes, she has to ask again to make sure and I give her the same response. I’m awesome, in fact. Gnarly even? It was an orgasm of truly epic proportions, and they tell me it lasted a good twenty seconds or more. Not only that, but once the water was expelled, my anus gaped like never before and they were both wide eyed. Not like it does when you get whatever implement was in you pulled out and it takes a millisecond before closing back up, but wider. Like the size of a tangerine or a plum, it opened right up and they’d never seen anything quite like that.        

       And so, now I was really in “trouble”.

       “Because of that, we’re giving you a choice,” my Mistress says after our little talk and I get an oiled massage so that my limbs don’t’ cramp. I get some water to quench the thirst in my throat and then we’re back into our roles. “The show was so good that we’d like another one before your ass fucking, but it’s entirely up to you. You can get your punishment first, which is up to 60 strokes now, or we can give you some time to relax and you can give us another more marvellous performance.”

       Relaxing always came with some kind of a price, but I honestly didn’t know if I could take 60 strokes at the moment. I was physically spent but given some time to relax, I could (probably) go for some more. My ass though, and my thighs and calves, were still on fire, and I didn’t know if they could take a true punishment.

       In a different circumstance I would have laughed at such a proposition, but I loved the game, loved every twist she invented. I wanted to make her happy, and she would in turn satisfy the burning through my own body.

       I chose to put on another show.

       “Delicious,” she coos.

       I hear the tinkle of a chain and look down to see the small steel clamps; the good ones with tensions screws set in the top so they didn’t do any real tissue damage. Like most clamps, it was about restricting blood flow to whatever area they were applied too, and they didn’t hurt until you took them off afterwards.

       I was still hot and ready for more.

       Mr. Munroe takes a hold of my nipple and twists it painfully, smiling at the quick, painful jerk of my torso, before clamping the little steel torture device onto the sensitive, pulsating tip. Tiwsting beforehand always got the blood to go to the area and then when you clamp it, it has a much harder time getting there. They were tightened ever so softly, but not too much because blood still had to flow afterall, otherwise they go numb. It was all about feeling it.

       He gives a solid wrench on the chain connecting my breasts to each other and I arch my back forward and it almost brings quick tears to my eyes. “Tight enough,” he says and I hear the smile in his voice. They don’t come off.

       I feel her hands then between my legs, and gasp as I feel the clasp of tight little steel teeth against the soft wet folds of my labia. Pinching me just firmly enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to bruise, she gives those ones a little tug too and plays with the slick wetness seeping out of me in unfilled desire before moving off.

       She comes back around behind me, a sheen of sweat rapidly developing on my skin, and I twitch as she puts a hand on the damp flesh at the apex of my thighs. She touches the opening to my vagina and the wetness seems to grow. Syrup thick. Parting me gently, she opens my sex wide with her thumbs. Peering at my dripping attributes in delight, her fingers enter me to probe gently. Mr. Munroe is there ahead of me, watching me blush with abject humiliation, the little chains on my labia pulling wide and holding fast to my folds. She presses my clitoris, rolls it between her thumb and forefinger, teasing me with nimble dexterity.

       She then pulls out a very long butterfly clip with a small peg on the lower end. She pinches a portion of my clitoris up from the rest of the kernel, and clamps it on. The embrace of the little vice achingly strong and miserable, she moves the vice and rocks it. She laughs at the convulsive movements of my vagina, the quivering of my thighs from the strain. The small peg on the end jams under the heart of my clitoris, pushing firmly, achingly.

       She moves around in front of me, a jar in her hands. She opens it carefully so I could smell the fresh scent of wintergreen and menthol. She takes a small amount of the cream and smoothens it over my unbound breasts, close to the clamps. It was hot and cold, all at once. She rubs it in, leaning over to blow on it so I shudder on the chair, moaning. Her hands unhurried, she gives a little twist to the screws on my nipple clamps to tighten them past the point of pain on my pulsing nipples. Although her hands were all above my waist, I feel her touch all the way to my sex

       She moves back between my legs, and I strain to look behind me as she takes out a phallus of hard black rubber. She lifts the chain on the clamps holding my labia, and spreads my lips to slip the phallus well into me with sure even pressure. She touches the little butterfly on my clit and tightens it a little bit more. My body shakes but my vagina clutches the phallus, grateful to be filled again.

       The dreaded ass hook is next, a stainless steel metal one with an equally cold and metal 2” ball on the end. It’s the one that stretches your ass impossibly large and then then leaves you to closes around the rest of the metal. I feel the ball being pushed relentlessly into my ass, but then it’s joined by a finger and that starts the mind-fuck. She gives it a final push and it goes in, but with the added finger, I’m left thinking that I must have a third hole somewhere, since she was finger-fucking me with the ass hook in.

       Apparently I looked to good, for her not to add a little something to the mixture. I almost climax at the stretching ache of the thing being set well into me. She ties the end of it off to my ponytail, raising my ass up off the chair since my head couldn’t really be pulled back any further.        

       Coming around to my front, I get a kiss on the lips before the ball gag and nose hooks are both put in place. They’re both tightened an extra little bit, squeezing my cheeks together and lifting my nostrils. Oink oink?

       The gag, not many people realize, was a supreme act of trust. It’s small weight, meaning that I trusted her enough to not push me past my tolerance, to be responsible enough to watch for signs of real panic.

       

       They both watch me expectantly as they step back, and I wonder why, but only for a moment. The item inside me begins to vibrate softly; it wasn’t just a dildo she slipped into me. “We’ll be back shortly.”

       I tighten in my subdued captivity and try to sit still. It was going to be impossible, and no matter how much I tried I couldn’t force it out of me. As the buzzing intensified, I couldn’t help be rocking back and forth, my hair pulling the ass hook in deeper, and the ass hook trying to pull my head back farther.

       “Do not orgasm, or I’ll leave it in all night.”

       I’m left to wait, more than slightly heated, and as I “sit” there, my mind wanders back to that first day when I met my Mistress. How had she known that I would like all of this stuff? How had she known that I wouldn’t balk at the whips and chains and phalluses that she used on me? How did she decide to introduce me to this delicacy on the menu of sexuality?

       Then it came to me suddenly. She probably hadn’t known. She had studied me, read me like an open book and then later figured out how she could get what she wanted from me. I had some limits of course, things we both agreed were off the table, but anything she wanted, she knew I would give it to her without question. I would do whatever it took to please her, and I was punished just enough without deliberately courting further disaster. I had been a smart-ass most of my life, but that disappeared in her presence.

       So as I sat there bound to the chair, clamps on my most tender areas, my ass a deep red, already-fading red marks crossing my thighs and calves. It was all a mind-trip as well as body, and that got me think back to that very first day, and how it all started with a phone call.

       “Be ready for anything,” Mrs. Lucy had said before hanging up. The words had rung through my head on the way over like a time loop, and I debated whether or not to keep going. Instead, I listened to that little voice in my head that I usually ignored.

       Later in the kitchen as we talked over everything, it was a simple question that probably did me in. “Why?” she asked.

       “Because I was tired of vanilla, when I’d rather have rocky road.” I wanted to bite my tongue [always a smart ass, remember?] but she laughed. Thank-god, I thought.

       We went over the code then; a set of rules designed to set parameters and prevent accidents. It was like a safe sex clause, and when she asked if I was dominant or submissive, that was it, the moment when I stated out loud for the first time what I really was, and then everything changed forever.

       “Hmm, I could really use a good submissive, honey.”

       Nothing like being in demand.

       We talked some more and you’ve already read that part, so on with the story.

Chapter 33

It seemed to take forever for them to come back, but it hadn’t been very long, only ten minutes; nobody responsible ever left a slave truly alone and bound up. I spent the last few of those moments trying to ignore the medieval pull of the clamps on my body. Striving not to wiggle the clips loose from my skin by moving too violently. I chewed on the soft rubber in my teeth for comfort.                

       “Are you ready to play again?”

       I looked up to see them both re-enter the room arm-in-arm. I had almost forgotten the pull of the clamps, but when I nodded my head in affirmative, I was rewarded with fresh jolts of pain and squeezed my eyes shut.

       I don’t see the open hand coming until the slap rocks me. “What was that?” she asks, and I open my eyes wide. Having my ass pounded for hours only turned me on, but a simple slap in the face is enough to raise my hackles. Everyone has different buttons, and she knows all of mine to push.

       “Yes, Mistress!” I muffle out.

       “You sure?” she asks. “You don’t want to go home, to call an end to the whole thing?”

       I nod as they check on me.

       “This could all be over you know, and you could be back in your own bed tonight, all warm and safe and sound, Gizmo curling at your feet.”

       Gizmo was my cat back home, and my safeword. Hah, she was evil, this one! Something I had neglected to mention before, but she often found ways to work my safeword into conversations, sometimes incorporating it into meaningless sentences to enhance the torment.

       I muffle out a “No Mistress,” and I try to shake my head from side to side, and stop as the hook in my ass is jostled. I get a totally agonizing surprise in return as she wrenches the chains from my nipples with a sharp snapping jerk. I yelp in pain, not from the clamps coming off, but from the blood rushing back in a flood of heated agony, making me tense all over. I cry out and give soft whimpers as her fingers caress the burning tips, then she kisses them, sucks them. The moisture between my legs grows. I can feel it deep within me. She massages each of my nipples and pinches them and I make small sounds of surrender. I’m being inexorably wound tighter.

       Mrs. Lucy moves around behind me, and she finally removes the butterfly and I tense as the blood flows back twice as fast into my clitoris, swelling it to unbelievable levels of fire. She pushes two digits into me, pushing, probing, rubbing the damp moist envelope of demanding privation. Her careful fingers brushing the little nubbin as she works me, her other hand on my hips, holding me still. I had been moving in urgent haste, and her fingers roughen as she crawls under my widely spread thighs, her breath on my shaved opening. Taking the last set of clamps in her teeth, she pulls them off and tosses them away with a flick of her head. Her mouth closing on the hard knot of pleasure bulging between my legs, she sucks on it and I explode. My legs shake with stress as the little flicks of her tongue and the suction of her lips pull every bit of orgasm from my shaking body. Throaty, muffled cries leaving me gasping, my body goes limp in the pangs of afterglow.

       “Very hot and I’ll excuse that indiscretion,” she coos, slipping the vibrator and then the ass hook out of me. “But that isn’t the kind of show we were wanting.”

       I whimper as I come down from the orgasmic high. I hadn’t asked for permission to come (as if I even could have?) but I was forgiven this once.

       “We’re going to play a game and we want a show,” she explains, and I give a surprised gasp as I feel a wide nozzle of sparkling clean steel press against my ass.  I shiver, the thing is huge! Bug it goes in easily, slick with some kind of different lube. It was just wide enough that there’s no way short of a rape that she could hurt me with it, and she pushes it in slowly so there was not a bit of pain involved.

       My cunt drips and I squirm on the chair and she no doubt enjoys the reaction she is getting from me, the size of the nozzle stretching my sphincter to its fullest. A slow screw, she twists it around, moving the phallus into me, letting me feel ever delicious inch. With a soft push, it’s fully inside, the slightly narrower base set well into me.

       I feel the rush of the warm enema rushing to fill my bowels and I groan, not wanting to complain as the cramping starts and my belly begins to swell. It didn’t hurt so much now, the previous enemas had expanded my body somewhat.

       Mrs. Lucy steps back for a moment to grab something off the table on the other side of the room and as soon as she was back next to me, I heard her raise her arm. *SWACK!!!* across my ass goes the hairbrush, causing me to tense up making the enema all the harder to take in. *SMACK CRACK WHACK!!!* three more times she strikes in different places on my backside.

       *CRACK SMACK WHACK!!* In and on it went for the whole time my belly was getting filled. I hear the bag gargle but continue to feel her reddening my ass with the hairbrush. Once again, it’s not enough to truly hurt, but enough to make my already sore ass become ablaze a little more. It’s not long until I feel like my entire body is going to explode though, until she finally unclips the hose form the bag and the hairbrush is discarded. “You’re going to hold that in by yourself now,” she says.

       *Whimper, sniffle* I muffle out a “Yes, Mistress.”

       When she comes around to my front, Mrs. Lucy has the little rubber clamps in her hand. She pinches the nipple hard before putting each one of them on, and once again I get the little strings that pull them out and down towards the floor, pulling my breasts through the open back of the chair.

       When they’re both standing in front of me, they’ve each got a cane in their hand.

       “First the game,” she says, and they each take a side.

       The first strike finds my left ass cheek and I cry out. It’s just a tap, and I get another one the opposite side. I close my eyes as the next one lands on the top of my thigh, and keep them closed as it finds the other one. Once more it finds my ass, hitting twice in different spots then before. They’re just love taps at first, but then they get progressively harder, and soft pink welts form on top of the reddened skin.

       They’re still not that hard, but I can’t think about any of that as I try to concentrate on holding my cheeks shut. My tight little ass, earlier gaping widely, is closed shut now.

       “Ready?” I hear Mrs. Lucy call out.

       ‘Uhhhhh, ready for what?’ I think.

       I feel a strike between my legs and I cry out, unclenching my anus for an instant but it’s enough to let the crystal-clear water squirt out. I feel another strike hit my thigh, hard enough to make me unclench once more and there it is; squirt. Another hard strike finds the opposite side, and it gets the same result. The cane finds the bottom of my feet next, and while it isn’t as hard as the one to my thigh, my whole body shakes and once more I’m forced to unclench my anus. The cane finds my other foot with a similar result.

       ‘Noooo, noooo, noooo’ I think to myself. I compared my earlier situation to that amusement park game with the water, but now I was truly the living embodiment of it.

‘Gizmo!’ I think loudly as the cane finds the sole of my foot once more, and “Gizmo!” I think again when it finds the other one. My muffled cries get louder as they find different areas to strike, but no matter the abasement I feel, I don’t dare put a stop to it.

       On and on it goes, and it takes some time for me to dispel all the water in single, uncontrollable spurts. I want to release it all, put an end to the game, but they wanted a show after all, and I was determined to give them one.

       “Mmmmm,” I finally hear my Mistress coo. “That was fun.”

       The clamps come off and the gag comes out I’m given a short little rest before I feel her hands move to my spine. Her long supple fingers wander down to the cleft between my buttocks, which tighten involuntarily. “Ready to get your ass fucked?”

       I nod, not trusting my voice. She had promised earlier that it was going to be epic, no?

       “I bought something new today.”

       I couldn’t turn my head around to see what she had, and she knew that. The guessing game started, but not once during our few months together had she ever damaged me back there. I never bled, not even the first time she took me that way.

Not even later when Mr. Munroe took me; she had prepared me well ahead of time.

       “But you have to beg me for it.”

       I feel her fingers, wet with lube, opening me. I beg and plead, already knowing the routine and the litany to recite. I ask her for it. I beg her for it. I need it, I want it.

       I try to relax as I feel that first finger become two. She was taking her time, never in a hurry when she had her favorite orifice before her.  ”Perfect,” she says, and slips three fingers into me. “Nice, very nice. Firm, but not tense. Good depth, and resilience,” she says as though I wasn’t there, and I blush with humiliation.

       I feel four fingers slide in and involuntarily clench against her.

       “Relax,” she coos. I feel her work the ring of my anus slowly until I relax, working lube in much deeper than she has ever done before. “Breath slowly and evenly. You’re going to love this.”

       She lets the fake cock rest on my lower back as she works her fingers in me, and it’s a monster! I have to hand it to her, she shocks me. She played hardball from the very first day, and a sense of mortified abasement was burning in my heart now, which I knew probably registered on my face as indignation. But then she wanted shock, didn’t she? To overwhelm me with her wickedness, humble me in my submission.

       I feel the tip of the “toy” pushing at my entrance now, her warm human flesh replaced with firm, unyielding rubber. I put up more than my usual token amount of resistance to this new invasion. “Don’t be recalcitrant, Sarah. It brings out the worst in me.”

       It feels slippery slick with that other, special kind of lube, and I push out hard, trying to slow my breathing as it pushes at my anus. The pressure builds to a pleasurable plateau and it goes beyond into aching and unrelenting strain as my body tried to accept the impossibly wide dildo. I groan, trying to close my lips against the sound and my face is flushed scarlet.

       “Good girl,” she coos. Maybe perversely she wanted me to give in early, prove I didn’t have the courage of my early convictions. Well if that were the case, I was equal to her. And undeniably, there was something also hot about this, something amazingly fucking hot. And so for all the physical urgency I had to pull away, I leaned into her.

       “Come on, push out. It’s not much bigger than anything else we’ve used.”

       She kept pushing, forcing my anus to stretch around the thing painfully. Not much bigger? Not much was often more than enough! It took about five seconds to finally go inside and I went completely limp.

       My hips thrust about wildly as the penis continued its agonizing journey. Every inch was a battle, every millimeter another erotic wave of dominating pleasure and pain. My vagina lubricated like a broken faucet as the organ made its way forward, disappearing bit by bit inside me. I never knew I could quaff so much, and she pushed carefully and it went in further and I bore down to expel it and she finally pushed it in home. She sighed in satisfaction. I grunted in discomfort.

       I sat immobile, impaled. She stroked my back and I felt the electric tingle of her touch along my entire body, arousing me in spite of the burning dilation behind me.

       “Not too bad is it?”

       I nodded, not trusting my voice. It was in, and my face filled with surprise, as though wondering why it didn’t hurt. Why did it feel so good?

       “Okay, baby doll,” she coos, her other hand on my abdomen as she pushes the cock a millimeter further into me. I felt myself go hot all over, and knew what was coming up. I purred softly, and I knew that to get it out, I would have to be distracted. The best way to distract me, of course, was to make me cum.

       She puts her hand on the junction of my thighs and starts to work my clitoris gently. My already tight muscles bunched up tighter and every bit that she pulled out, I moaned, making no effort to disguise my cries. Sensations swept over me as Mrs. Lucy began to slide the phallus out of me. It resisted removal at first but my clitoris was swelling as she stroked it, telling me to push it out from deep within. I had bearing down against it with effort in an attempt to get used to the size, until finally I felt it being drawn out of me. I gasped as it began a slow withdraw, and was twitching with orgasm, almost there, but the discomfort wasn’t letting me go easy. It finally slides out completely, leaving me empty, and a low animalistic growl tears from my throat as it goes back in.

       She was slow at first and the going was tough. I put up token amounts of resistance but the super hard member pushed its way slowly past my defiant rectal muscles at it sent waves of wild, uncontrollable sensations through my bare body. Then I got it hard and fast once I became accustomed to it.

       "MMMM... I just love it when you're penetrated."

       I grunt in earnest as she fucks me with the large dildo, and gasp when I feel her ply my nether lips open with her fingers, and my soft groans turn into moans as two fingers slip inside me. Knuckles graze my clitoris, which must have swelled to the size of an almond. When her thumb finally brushes it, butterfly-soft, I barely feel it through the thick fluids covering it. Fast light movements, tighter and tighter, and my passion winds in me. My senses whirl as the dildo plunges in and out of my ass and her fingers work my pussy, her thumb pressing into my clit. My heart palpitates in my chest, the wildly caught sensations overcoming me. I barely feel t the slick fingers become three, going into me just a little bit roughly, yet so deliciously. Working me to climax, her thumb goes around in circles over my clit and I was as tightly wound as a bowstring, orgasmic tautness making my body rigid as I neared the peak. The ebb and flow of it all maddens me, driving me quickly to the crest.

       “Ooooohhhhhhhhh!” I cry out. “Pleease Mistress, may I come?”

       She gives me permission and I do, the passion spilling out of my drenched cleft. I clutch and my body shakes, straining as I pull against my bonds and the orgasm is felt throughout my whole body. Her fingers withdraw and her hand squeezes tightly at the merciless clench of my vagina, and my uterus spasms as well in fast, firm, powerful little jerks.

       I come down slowly and was just starting to catch my breath. Just starting to come back into myself, when I realize the motion was continuing. Pushing me towards yet another higher orgasmic plateau. My tender little clitoris started aching under the merciless onslaught, her fingers rolling it and pinching it indelicately.

       “Once is enough for now, little one,” Mrs. Lucy says in that cool and calm voice. I get the message clearly: I’m not to cum again. I must wait and fight against it.

       I sob almost miserably as she works my tiny button, feeding it to frenzy once again, not even letting me catch my breath from the last time. My now empty vagina clenches on the emptiness, but my ass is still full and the cock is a battering ram inside me. I battle to contain the rising rush of orgasm, my muscles tighter than when I came only seconds ago. My head trying to roll helplessly but still trapped, I try to move my hips away from the thoughtless, insistent digit and I can’t. I was just making it worse, and just when I knew that I was truly lost, just before I was going to be unable to contain it, when it was going to get out of my control and the frantic feeling of being trapped on that chair threatened to overwhelm me, both the thumb and the cock withdraw.

       I whimper with relief, misery and triumph at war within my soul. I had done what she wanted but it had been so difficult… my body craving the pressure, but wanting to release. It was a lesson well learned by now; I had no choice and all choices, and there were many ways to punish and torment, please and release.

       Something trails over my lower back slowly, and I blossom with a new and different heat. I know the strap, crave it, want it. It slaps between my legs, hard enough to climax too, but not hard enough to be a punishment. My body knows the difference and responds with this new fire.

       I pull against my bindings as the thin leather bands work, quick flashes of rapidly dissipating pain. Wonderfully perfect. My respiration deepens with each new strike, my torso quaintly hitching, indicating either tears or passion. She always seemed to know which one it was.

       Mr. Munroe was up in front of my face, and I moan as his cock slips into my mouth. I continue to moan around the cock as I felt my Mistress’ fingers open my pussy lips, and the vibrator begin to flick against my clit. The feeling gave me new vigor and I try to bob my head back and forth, but between the rope around my neck keeping me to the chair and his hands on the back of my head, I wasn’t going anywhere.

       When I begin to gag, he withdraws and slaps his cock against my face three times before entering my throat once more. Again, he holds my head firmly in place while he begins to fuck my mouth in earnest. The vibrator was dancing over my clit now and when I feel her fingers enter me, it take my breath away. Gluk, gluk, gluk

       I can hear him grunting above me and I could feel his cock thickenening. “Shit, that slutty little mouth of yours is going to make me cum,” he says aloud. Well that was the point wasn’t it? I could feel that he had been holding back, trying not to explode, but I would have none of that. I needed release to, and knew I wouldn’t be getting another orgasm before they did. So I work my tongue around and around, up and down the shaft and his eyes close. I feel Mrs. Lucy’ fingers graze against my clit then, and my tongue works all the more harder. Suddenly, she pinches it hard between her thumb and forefinger, and I cry out with the cock in my mouth.

       “Ohhhh, shit!” he calls loudly, “whatever you just did to her, do it again. That felt amazing.”

       I feel her fingers close again on my most sensitive area and I can’t help crying out once more as she pinches the little nub. Mr. Munroe makes low noises in the back of his throat, clearly lost in ecstasy. One more pinch and suddenly his cock swells as I cry out,

his discharge violating my pretty mouth. I’m forced to swallow the first discharge, then he removes his penis from my mouth, only to let it spray the rest of his cum into my face. He works his cock with his hand, and the cum slowly pours over my lips and cheeks as I’m thoroughly coated with the substance.

       “MMmmm, that was amazing,” he coos before stepping back

       “My turn,” Mrs. Lucy says, taking his place.

       It’s sweet duty, but I try to make quick work of it so that I can be finally released from my bondage.

Chapter 35

I could feel my knees weaken with every step that we took. I was almost too mind-weary to want to play anymore, all I wanted was to lay down and go to sleep, but they weren't finished with me yet. I knew that until they were, I wouldn't be allowed to rest.

       "Put her up on the horse."

       I feel myself freeze in position on the floor, moving again only when I feel the tug on the leash they had attached to my collar. They take me over to a piece of equipment that I had seen many times before; it looks like a leather covered road barricade, and where it widened near the floor, it had two quick-release clip restraints. The other end had a couple of clips for wrist restraints. Mrs. Lucy gives the leash to Mr. Munroe, and he takes me to the thing, laying me face down over it.

       "Stay," he commands, and picks up two leather leg cuffs and two wrist cuffs. Mrs. Lucy comes around to the other side and puts the left side on while he does the right. They both smile just a little, and he picks up a gag from the floor and pushes it through my teeth to buckle it behind my head.

       Hands trails over my skin, making me shudder delicately, but not from cold. My legs were wide, and open, my sex highly visible from almost every angle of the room.

       "She's bone dry."

       ‘No shit,’ I wanted to reply, but only whimpered. How many orgasms had they wrought out of me tonight? I lost count, but even more than that, I had experienced two or three of the biggest orgasms of my life, one of them leaving me completely lost afterward.

       I hear him beside me, and try to turn my head. A sharp smack from a belt and soft hands holding my wrists in front of me stop me from turning anymore. "You don't need to see." Damn. He leans up over me from behind, heat radiating from his body. Hands stroking lightly, fingers feather-light, he spreads my buttocks with his hands and dips between them. Eating me softly from upside down, licking the very bottom of my sex as though he was moving on my clitoris.        

       I flinch involuntarily and it’s becoming a habit tonight. My wrists jerk, but her hands hold tighter to them and she leans down to speak to me.

       "I told him earlier that you could orgasm under the strap. Well he’s never seen that, and when I told him about it, he wanted to observe." I tighten, and feel Mr. Munroe’s fingers entering me. Pushing at the little spot in the heart of my sex, making me unbearably hot. Ready. I feel my breath grow short, and deep. Almost, almost. "That's enough," Mrs. Lucy says, so he stops and I moan, my vagina clenching on the emptiness. My mind tries to recreate the feeling that was denied it suddenly and I try to close my legs as the air cools the moist heated flesh.

       They change places and I feel his hands grip my wrists to the top of the horse. Here it comes, I think, bracing my body for impact. It was quick, the blow hard and sharp. The skin trying to recoil away from it, the next is the same, and the next. Some kind of flat slapper was my guess. Bright penny-copper pain as the skin becomes tender.

       "Let it come, Sarah." This was the head-trip. All I had to do was let it come. Lose myself in the dark romance of her words and my body. Let the flow overtake my common sense until I no longer felt like a human being. Let me become the orgasm. I didn't know if I could, everything from before making me feel silly in the head.

       It was all a game that had me as the prize. I moaned around the gag, feeling the blows thicken. The little slapper nipping at my wet cleft. I cry out, muffled by the gag in my teeth. "No, no," but knew that it couldn't be heard, and that if they did hear it, would not believe it. I was having an attack of reality and did not know if I could fight it. The only noise that could be heard was my desperate cry, and the sound of the toy as it impacted with my flesh, but I’m trapped.

       I shake my head, tears threatening to flow as the blows became agony.

       Mrs. Lucy switches to something else. Wider and less damaging, because I had to be bright red back there, every new biting blast distinct and unparalleled in the pain that it causes. I was being used and taken and cherished by the only person in the room who you truly cared about me besides myself. There was only one other person that I cared about in this room, one other being on the planet. God, don't ... I shake my head. Don't say it. I'll die, right here on this thing in this room. If I mix up reality and fantasy like this I won't be able to separate it in real-life. Don't...

       My body convulses and I shake my head quickly. Muscle forming knots, eyes closed, jaw hard, sweat making me slick and wet and hot. I almost steam, I pull against the bonds and feel Mr. Munroe holding them tightly to the leather.

       Mrs. Lucy hits me harder and faster, pushing my body to the limits of endurance. Every muscle straining against the reaction, however voluntary, of my body to this trip I was on. I’m not able to hold back. I knew that I couldn't. It was too vital, and close and intimate. Too surely what I wanted, and did I need to fight? Mrs. Lucy had not given me express permission, however, so I did not know if I could actually do it. She was silent and gratitude flowed over me.

       I broke. My orgasm sweeping me with a sudden burst of rainbow light that flashed before my eyes with strobe-like brilliance. Deeper than the first pinnacle of the night. Higher than the last time I had climaxed. More emotion involved. The secret that had not been spoken. Yes. I was starting to fall in love with someone in this room, but God help me if I would ever admit it.

       It was that secret, that hidden shame that pushes me up over the top, and forces me to evaluate my body, my orgasm and my very flesh. The intense outcry from my soul, muffled into the gag that I wore. Gasping for air, shuddering limply, the blows continuing until I had stopped, and all that was left was the quick jerks as the whip falls to the floor.

       Afterwards when we’re alone for the night, the walk back to her bedroom was quiet, and I feel her eyes on me heavily; taking me in with some new kind of fathomless speculation. It was eerie.

       When we enter the room, she takes the collar from me, the length of it falling from her fingers to the floor as she faces me. I feel fear -- quicksilver, mercurial -- running through my limbs and circling my heart. She takes the cuffs from my limbs, and stands back up. Very close, but not touching me.

       Her hands reach for me, so quickly, that I back away from them. Turning back to the door with a reckless, unknown emotion roiling through me. I had my hand on the doorknob, and the portal half opened when she was suddenly behind me. Her body hard against mine. Pushing me to the door and slamming it closed with our weight.

       "Don't..." I whispered and the word itself was torment to my ears. The pleading lost sound of that simple command weakly falling from my lips in supplication. "I can't..."

       "Shhh... Hush, I won't hurt you." I forced myself to silence, my hands spread against the wood before me. Eyes burning with unshed tears.

       `No, not this. Never this. Not emotion, not feelings that had nothing to do with my body. Let me die in peace, and alone, and quietly painless. Leave my heart alone!' Thoughts like wildfire, dire warnings of an enormous crack in the armor and my spirit was screaming silently. No audible noise except for the harsh sound of my breath as I fought for control. I feel her hands on my skin, her fingers on my shoulder, breath warm against my neck, and so damn gentle. I almost break from the poignant brush of her against my soul.

       “Don't..." But that whispered plea had even less conviction than the first.

       "Don't speak," she says, softly. She brushes the hair from my shoulders, and turns me in her arms. I keep my eyes down, not wanting to look at her. Not wanting her to see what I was feeling. Her strong hands close on my arms, her left sliding up the upper arm, and over the shoulder to rest under my chin. A soft caress as she seeks my eyes to discover what secret I had hidden. I resist, keeping them closed.

       "Open your eyes." I hear her command over the pounding in my heart, and squeeze them shut tightly. "Open them!" I do, trying for neutrality. Blankness, but it was impossible.

       She put her lips on mine, the breath of her perfume running over me. Tongue slipping into my mouth so softly that I could barely feel it, until it twined with mine. Being lifted and turned until I was dizzy with motion and laid down on the bed. Her body over mine, her hand reaching down between my legs while never once did her lips leave mine.

       Her fingers were in my body before I could take three deep breaths around the lump in my throat. Before more than six tears had run down my face at the insistent motion of her digits inside me. Her face traveled down my neck, and I leaned into it. Using my hands to good purpose, I pulled her closer into me.

       She works me up again and I long for it, want it, but did not trust it. It was something I read about in all of the books; How you love the top, but were not in love with them. They always made it personal. I resigned myself to the misunderstanding.

       She pulled me closer, looking down into my eyes. Eyes that shone with a sudden shy humor. "Jesus, Sarah. How the hell did I end up with you?" I smile slowly. Dragging her body deeper between my thighs. Putting my hands into the long hair that hung to her shoulders, smoothing it. Feeling it curl around my fingers. Trapping them in silken bonds.

       "Just lucky, I guess." I murmur, reluctant to surrender to the intimacy of the moment.

       “You wandered in here a few months ago. You let me do to you, thing that others would never consider having done to them. Yet never once did you do anything less than your graceful best for me. You faced your worst fears without hesitation. You took more on your first weekend than anybody I have ever known."

       Her words were having a softening effect on me, but soon my hips were bucking as she went lower to lick my quickly dampening flesh. Flicks of her tongue were mingled with soft nips of her teeth, and my legs were spasming, my back arching. Reaching climax, an orgasm that I had no will to fight, no time either. One second I was struggling, and the next soaring with pleasure from somewhere over my body. Bucking under her fast tongue, gasping for air.

       When I finally collapse, out of breath, she leans up over me, and brushes the hair from my face. Putting it behind my ears, she smiles softly at me before rising to go into the bathroom. She comes out with a belt of leather, and made me stand up to buckle it around me. She puts a hand between my shoulder blades, pushing me so I was laying facedown, half off the bed. Her hands open me from behind, slipping a phallus into my anus with a smooth even pressure. Clipping it into the harness so it would remain, I almost cum again right on the spot.

       "Try to push it out," she orders and I do, regretting the sudden rush of heat to my sex as I comply. I gasp and she puts me up into her bed and secures my hands to the headboard so I wouldn't be tempted to relieve my own torment. Hah, after everything tonight, I don’t think that would have been a problem. Then again, because of everything tonight, maybe it would have?

       Either way, I was going to sleep in torment.

       Turning out the lights and snuggling up against my back as the darkness settles around us, I whisper into her ears before her eyes close in sleep. "I do love you, you know." I close my eyes with passion, and moan against closed lips. Greater than the love between a mother bear and her cubs, greater than the love of a sparkling vampire for his child bridge, or the love of a fat kid for sitting down, was my love for her.

       She had taken me on a rip-roaring roller-coaster ride of endorphins that kept me at the edge even with every pause and break, made me convulse.

               God help me.

Chapter 35

I get the weekend off, which I think I deserved after all of that.

       When I come back, apparently I’m in for a whole week of endurance testing, that will make the two previous sessions a couple weeks back seem like a cake walk. Although a little fearful, the new also had me a little excited, almost looking forward to it. Part of the turn on was that some small part of me always looked forward to see what new and interesting things she would come up with, because I always looked forward to a challenge and being tested in my personal life, so why should this one be any different?

       I did things in my personal life that most normal people would say was crazy, like running brutal Spartan races, but I do it because I want to see if I can. In most things, I hated to lose (as do a lot of people no?) and failure was not an option; I didn’t like to disappoint myself first and foremost, but being a new and loyal servant as it were, it really wasn’t an option.

       I would do my very best to succeed, but I was also sure that Mrs. Lucy would use that to her advantage. Hmm, what if I said I liked that? I think, anyways. We’ll see.

We test her flexibility, her toughness. We soon find out that Sarah is as tough as they come. The elbow tie is brutal, and we hitch it up almost past her head. This would cause most girls to tap out, but not Sarah.

Sarah takes it and we deliver more pain. We clamp her big nipples and add weights, then we flog her perfectly tanned body, and then we worship her amazing ass, spread her legs and tightly gag her. When her body is pulled and stretched to the limit, we make her cum. We make her cum until she can’t take anymore.

Chapter 36

It’s day 2 and I’m down on my knees with my Mistress standing over me. We’re in the living room and I’m thankful for the soft carpet under my knees.  Having just entered, I was quickly stripped of all my clothing, and little cloverleaf clamps found  their way onto each of my nipples once I was fully naked and down on the floor.

       "Tonight we shall once again test that amazing endurance of yours. Are you ready for that, sweet one?"

       "Yes, Mistress," I sigh as I sit back on my haunches and push my large breasts out towards her. Mrs. Lucy smiles and fastens a “Y” chain to the clamps on my nipples, then goes behind me to fasten restraints to my ankles. I shudder as I feel the familiar restraints clasp around each ankle and my heart beats a little faster. My scent wafts to her nostrils as she stands, and I see a smile cross her face as she pauses to look at the cleft between my legs. She pulls me to my feet by my nipples, then kneels to kiss and lick my sweet pussy for a few moments. I moan at the soft touch of my Mistress’ familiar tongue on my very wet cunt, but then she sighs and stands, licking her lips.

       “I’ll have to get back to that a little later,” she coos. “If you’re good.”

       She takes the “Y” chain leash in her hand to pull me, by my nipples, through the house to the play room. She guides me down the long hall towards our destination and I groan slightly as my nipples start to ache from being pulled, no doubt brining a smile to her lips. We talk in silence and she takes every occasion to jerk the Y chain to elicit more groan from me. My nipples ache even more and several times I she thought that the clamps were going to be pulled off, but they only get tighter.

       Arriving, Mrs. Lucy orders me to my hands and knees on the cold marble floor. I shiver a little from the cold, but stoically obey. She opens the door to the room and she pulls me along and I dutifully crawl into the room. She leads me right into the center, like usual.

       Mrs. Lucy has me stand and I remain stock still as she removes the “Y” chain from the clamps, then the clamps themselves, and I give a little cry as they come off and the blood rushes into each nipple. She kneels to undo the restraints form my ankles, then moves off, only to come back with a whole lot of rope, and my eyes widen just a little before the juices start to trickle down my thighs.

       Back down on my knees, she start by tying my thighs to my calves, using two different loops of rope, one near the top and the other just below my knees. They’re wound around and around, with huge knots on the inside where my thighs tough my calves. Huge lengths of it are left to trail behind me afterwards. Using different rope, she then has me cross my arms behind my back, and loops more rope around my torso, above and below my breasts, encircling both my body and my arms. More rope goes around my shoulder to secure my arms in a neat package behind my back.        

       She has me lay me down on my back, and my eyes widen as the ropes from my knees are tied off to a wide spreader bar, that is then lifted up towards the ceiling. Slowly, I’m lifted up into the air by my knees, until I’m hanging upside down with my privates at eye level. I whimper softly as I feel myself being lifted, my long hair falling down from my head and my arms hanging down. I give soft whimpers as my breasts strain on my chest, half pointing toward the floor.

       “How is it?” she asks, tying the ropes off.

       “Good, Mistress,” I reply. And it is, surprisingly. The ropes don’t bite anywhere, and I’m securely fastened with a sense of safety even though I’m hanging upside down by my widely spread legs. It’s almost exactly like I’m kneeling upside down, with my arms crossed behind my back, and it’s not even a wholly uncomfortable position, not yet anyways.

       She sits on the floor and kisses me tenderly to ease any fears, but there are none. I moan as I eagerly return the kiss, feeling myself relax. She finally stands and I whimper again and breathe deeply as my mind is more tortured than my body, at this point in the session, wondering what new torments my Mistress will visit upon me.

       The next thing I know, she’s standing ahead of me, a soft cane in her hand. “Are you going to ask me for it?” she says.

       I try to hide the smile that wants to creep into my lips. “Please, Mistress, can I have the cane?” I ask.

       “Where would you like it?”

       “On my ass please, Mistress.”

       “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

       I cry out as the first strike lands and wiggle around in the air.

       “Where would you like it?” she asks again.

       “On my ass, Mistress.”

       She strikes the other cheek and she gets rewarded with the same outcome. Before I can catch my breath though, she begins tapping at my ass and I cry out in soft gasps, doing a full sit up in my bondage when a hard strike lands.

       “Ooohhh, I like that,” she says. “Do a sit-up for me every time I hit you.”

       I give a little whimper but when the cane lands again, I rise up until my I’m eye level with my own crotch. “Again,” she coos, striking a different spot and I rise up again.

       “Ask for it,” she says in that matter-of-fact voice.

       “Please, Mistress, may I have the cane.”

       I get another swat and I’m rising up once more with earnest.

       “Okay,” she says. “Let’s see some sit-ups.”

       I look at her with big wide eyes, waiting for the cane, but it doesn’t come. “Go,” she says, and I rise up. She calls them out as I do the sit-ups upside down; “1, 2, 3, 4,” then she tells me to stop. She comes around to stand behind me, her hand cupping my bare mound. “Keep going,” she coos, simply letting her hand rest on my bare pussy.

       I rise up again and she’s back to counting as I do the slow sit-ups; “5, 6, 7, 8, 9.” Her hand begins to rub between my legs, ever so gently. “Slut,” she says as my pussy moistens considerably at her touch. I try again to hide the smile creeping onto my lips. “You can go a little faster.”

       I whimper but comply, lifting up a little bit faster, her hand massaging just a little bit more. “Look at you starting to sweat,” she coos as I rise up. “Do you welcome this challenge, Sarah?”

       I give out a soft “Yes, Mistress,” once I’m down, before going back up again. “All the way up,” she coos and I strain as I try to lift my upper body just a little bit more. “Look at you,” she says when I’m up again. “turning red,” she says as I go back down. “You like showing off that body that you work for,” she says again once I’m up, two of her fingers now working themselves between my pussy lips, but not going in.

       When I settle back down, she asks me what number I’m on and my brain explodes “Ummm,” I whisper. “I wasn’t counting, Mistress.”

       She slaps between my legs with her open palm a few times, making me rise up again involuntarily to do another sit-up. They hadn’t been mean slaps, or even that hard, just soft love taps to get my attention.

       “You weren’t counting?” she teases softly. “Well that was 15, but you can start all over again,” she says. <In actuality, for those counting, it had been 17, but the first 3 hadn’t counted.>

       I want to yell at her, tell her no and ask to be let down, but as her fingers tongue to work on the outside of my pussy, I rise up once more. “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9,” she counts with each sit-up as I once again begin to lift myself up and down. When I’m breathing hard and trying to catch my breasts, the cane strikes across my hard abdomen. “Come on,” she coos after I cry out. I try to rise up but the strike had me all tense and bunched up. “One more before you can rest,” she says.

       I reach deep down to find the strength and rise up once more, letting myself drop back down once my head reaches past between my legs. “Good girl,” she coos. “What number was that?”

       “10, Mistress,” I reply, breathing hard.

       She gives me a minute to catch my breath, and then her hand resumes it’s massaging motion. “Again, 5 more.”

       I whimper softly but I’m back up once more to deliver another series of punishing sit-ups. When I’m back down for the last time, she gives another soft slap between my legs. “Hmmm,” she breathes. “Hardly out of breath. I think you can do 5 more.”

       I breathe in and rise up again. “Come on, all the way up.”  

       Again, I do another punishing sit-up. “I want to see you exhausted. Don’t you want to give me what I want?”

       I rise up and down again, and give a soft, “Yes, Mistress.”

       Her fingers continue to work and I belt out two more. “My goodness,” she says when I finally settle back down. “I’ve lost count. 5 more”

       I whimper again, but reach down and give her 5 more, bringing the entire total up to 46 upside down sit-ups when I stop to swing loosely in my bondage. “Outstanding,” she whispers softly, coming around to my front.

       “Thank you, Mistress,” I muffle out, still breathing hard.

       She has some kind of oil in her hands now, and begins to massage it into my body, working my stomach and abs, then my breasts, my legs, my ass and all over my back.

She dips away to wash her hands, then she’s back between my legs, her fingers brushing my fully exposed pussy. I moan slightly as I feel her breath flow over my wetness. “Do you like having your pussy played with?” she asks softly. “Yes, Mistress,” I moan softly as she spreads my lips open. “Look at that pretty pussy,” she coos as she starts to rub it.

       “What makes you cum, Sarah?” she asks, her fingers dipping inside. I give out a soft moan. “Being told what a nasty whore you are? What a nasty slut you must be, hanging here getting played with for my pleasure?”

       ‘I’m an opportunistic whore?’ I want to reply, but give out soft little moans instead as the smile (or was it a grin?) starts to creep onto my face.  She starts fucking me with her fingers, and I can hear the moist sounds of them as they plunge in and out of my crotch. I grunt as she works them deeper, finding my “G” spot and working it with fervour. “Ask for it,” she says, the wet noises growing in intensity along with the moans from my throat.

       “Please, Mistress,” I cry out. “Please play with my pussy.”

       She slaps my ass with the other hand, her fingers never stopping. “I can probably fit my whole hand in here right now,” she coos. My eyes widen at the thought, but only her two fingers continue to work inside me.

       “5 sit-ups now,” she commands. “Go.”

       I rise up as her fingers continue to work inside me. “Oohhh,” she says. “I can feel your pussy clench around my hand as you do those.”

       I give her 4 more and she has me on the edge of an orgasm, when I feel her fingers withdraw from inside me. “How about we fill that lovely asshole of yours first?”

       Ohhhhh, you witch!

       “Would you like a butt plug in that sluttly asshole?”

       Grrrr. “Yes, Mistress,” I whimper softly.

       She returns with a number 3 plug – nothing too big or intense – and gives my anus a little spit before she gently pushes at it with the plug. “What do you say?” she coos.

       Growl. “Please, Mistress,” I whimper again. “Can I have the buttplug in my ass?”

       She gives another spit and begins to work it in slowly, and I give little moans as she fucks only the first inch of it in and out of me. “Oohhhhh, yeah,” I coo, then she begins to push another inch into me, and fucks me with some more of it. I moan again and again, then she finally pushes it home. “Oohhhh,” I cry out. “Thank-you, Mistress.”

        “You’re welcome, little slut.”

Blah blah blah….

Chapter 37

Day 3.

I’m an amazing combination of flexibility, beauty, and like harsh punishing bondage that makes me submit to her whims.

In scene one I’m tied with my wrists together, bent at the waist and my hands are brought under and between my legs and affixed to a pole with a small wood platform behind me. My ankles are tied open with a pole and I’m given a very uncomfortable wedgie bondage predicament. My ass is warmed to a nice shade of red with a thorough hand spanking.

She fucks me with a dildo from behind by hand, until I’m begging to cum and be fucked like a slut. When she hears that, she comments that sluts are fucked in the ass, so she switches it up. Inserts ben wall balls into my pussy after warming in her hand, otld me to keep them in, and fucks my ass with the dildo untll I cum hard, contracting around the balls. Finally, I have to push them out. One and two, and it’s strangely erotic.

In scene two I’m  tied in a brutal breast to ankle hogtie suspension that transitions into a partial hair and breast suspension and then ends with me sitting on the floor, held up by my breasts, hair, and elbows. They’re separated and pulled up high, almost to my elbows. Cloverleaf clamps are applied, but they come off. Screw clamps are put on instead. My eyes roll back into my head as I’m repeatedly subjected to extremely intense bondage orgasms, fucking myself to climax.

Chapter 38

Day 4.

I’m once again suspended upside down, ankles tied to a spreader bar, legs open, a vibrating plug in my back end.

       I feel my pussy fully exposed and I moan slightly as her breath flows over my wetness. Mrs. Lucy kisses me between the legs then moves to a nearby table and selects two of the small metal nipple clamps, the ones with the tightening screws on the end. She kneels to lick the hardened tips of my nipples, pinching them between her fingers afterwards to get the blood flowing. I moan with pleasure as my Mistress's tongue bathes my nipple tips, and groan as her fingers pinch the base.

       I curl my toes and welcome the warm velvety tongue, but it’s soon replaced with metal, and I give a soft cry as she puts a clamp onto each nipple, and I give out three soft little “oh’s” as she tightens them that many times.

       Ms. Lucy stands once again and kisses between my legs, rubbing my clit hood until the little bud exits, erect, swollen, engorged and seeking attention. I moan with pleasure as my clit begins to swell, and she rubs my pussy until the wetness between my legs becomes very slick, then she traps my clit between fingers to roll and tug on it softly. I gasp with delight, as my clit becomes fully engorged, trying not to concentrate on the little clamps that are on my nipples. "Ohhhhhhhhhh,” I cry out, purring as I breathe heavier.

       Her fingers quickly withdraw and I’m left panting.

       "Now, love, we shall play some hot wax games with you," Mrs. Lucy whispers to me. I nod, having played this game before.

       Mistress Lucy shows me the large 3” thick scented candle and bends to lick my drenched pussy to 'dry' it with her tongue. I quiver and whimper with mixed joy and trepidation. "Trust me, love," she whispers to me. I nod again, but continue to whimper as Mrs. Lucy lubricates the candle in my own slick juices then spreads open my cuntlips and gently inserts the candle into my vagina. I shudder and gasp from the intrusion. She slowly pushes the candle inside my vagina and leave 1/3 of it inside me. I groan, more from what I know is to come than pain, as I look up my Mistress violating me nether regions. Nearly five inches of candle protrudes from the cleft of my pussy.

       I give a little shudder as I hang, trying to catch my breath while my mind anticipates this new torment devised by her Mistress. She smiles down at ne, kneels to kiss me passionately on the lips then arises to light the candles’ wick with a match. My eyes open wide and I gasped as I can feel the heat of the flame. "You will feel some heat, love, but no real burning," Mrs. Lucy assures me.

       I swallow hard as I watch the flame begin to melt the candle. Suddenly, I cry out as a searing jolt of pain stabs at my engorged clit with the first drop of hot melted wax.  I bite my lip as another hot drop of hot wax drips onto my clit and rolls its hot trail into my pussy.  Groaning with pain and lust, I cry out as the next drop sizzles my juices as it splatters on my clit and cunt.

       "The wax is hot, but will not burn you," Mrs. Lucy reassures me. Surprised that it indeed wasn't hot enough to burn me, I shudder, moan and whimper as the hot wax strikes my wet pussy. I trembled more from excitement than anything else as the hot wax continues to 'burn' my vagina. Moaning with pleasure and pain, I can feel the hot wax completely covering my clit and it flowing into my pussy as it empties from the candles’ well.  I gasp at the pain and quiver as I feel my orgasm stirring again deep within me.

       I try desperately to focus on something else, anything else, but each time I think I’m going to cum, another searing drop of wax strikes my pussy.  The pain is sooo delicious, but intense, as I wonder how many minutes I have left to ‘enjoy’ my plight.  I my Mistress’ breathing and it seems to meld together with the vibrations in my asshole.  My nipples are intensely sore and I sense that soon they will go numb.  I move slightly and the candle is rocked momentarily, spilling a huge dollop of wax to roll down between my asscheeks and stop at the exposed end of the butt plug.  The soft tender flesh between my asscheeks burns as the hot wax kisses it. I resist the urge to cum, but I cannot be sure how long I can continue without involuntarily erupting in orgasm.

       My pussy aches and I arch my back again, the nipple clamps wiggling around painfully. Feeling the hot wax again on my ass makes me clench my cheeks, and my muscles squeeze around the plug inside me. I can feel an orgasm swiftly rise within me.

       “You have permission,” I hear my Mistress say, and she has to repeat it because I’m so lost.        

       It only takes but a moment, and I wail as the wave rises to overcome me and I begin to cum hard. My body shakes with each spasm, causing my nipples to ache as the clamps are  jostled and more hot wax flows over my asshole and over my now-covered clit and slowly begins to disappear under the mound of hot wax that covers my pussy. I shout out as my asshole clenches the dildo in my ass with each contraction of my orgasm.  ‘Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’ I scream as I shudder through a powerful orgasm.

       I feel dizzy from the hard explosive orgasm and the hot sensations that stimulate my pussy and ass. I try to pull on my bonds and I jerk and buck as a series of mini-quakes rock my body, and each time I cum I feel the candle, stuck to my pussy, empty the melted wax onto my inner thighs, burning them as well.  I struggle in my bonds and pull tighter and that just adds to the sensations even more. Everything seems amplified as the vibrator feels as though it will shake me inside out and I cum again just thinking about it.  The candle at my pussy feels like an enormous cock trying to impale and rape me with its huge girth.  I feel totally helpless as I cannot free my limbs. The feeling of helplessness is amplified into another hard and rewarding cum.

       It’s another hard one, releasing more of my juices, but not spewing them as they stay inside me. I spasm and feel faint from the heat, then my body goes limp but I’m still conscious, although I’m starting off in the distance. Suddenly Mrs. Lucy is there, kneeling down and holding my cheeks with both hands. Or had she been there the whole time? She grins. "Mmmmm, you're so beautiful when you cum. I love to watch the total pleasure on your sweet face as you cum for me," she whispers.

       Exhausted, I shudder through several mini after-quakes and lay still for a few moments.  By then, the wax had all built up, covering my pussy, clit and asshole completely, and had extinguished the flame on the wick. Catching my breath, I could feel my holes filled, clit covered tight and the pressure against my pussy from cumming underneath the wax.

       Still in my field of vision, Mrs. Lucy’ mouth finds my own, probing deep for my tongue to suck it hard. I open my mouth and return my Mistress's kiss. I whimper then when her fingers brush the clamps on my nipples, dreading their removal, knowing that the blood rushing in to restore circulation will hurt more than the clamps actually did. 

       Her mouth leaves mine just as her fingers begins to press on the ends and they’re opened. I give a soft cry as the right one in removes, but Mrs. Lucy quickly covers the nipple with her mouth to soothe it while the blood painfully rushes back to them. I’m still panting a little from the whole experience, and grimace as the pain engulfs my nipple but her mouth works wonders on it. Finally, when my right nipple was 'refreshed' and robust again, she moves to the left, removes the clamp and sooths that nipple too.

       Next, she rises up to begin to pull the wax from my crotch.  It had hardened and was resisting her efforts to remove it.  The hard wax pulls at my cuntlips and clit, causing me nearly as much agony as I received when the melted wax covered my privates.  I was suddenly glad that I was shaved smooth, because the hard wax would have pulled out even the stubble from my sore, burning mound.

       Finally, she has only a small bit of candle left from my pussy that acted as a plug.  Painfully, she removes it and a torrent of cunt juices pour from my slit.  The salty fluids interact with my tormented flesh to ‘burn’ me again, and I grit my teeth until this minor ordeal passes.  The hardened wax in my asscrack pulls painfully against my cheeks, and I roll my hips around as the wax is pulled from between them.  It stings a little and pulls at the butt plug, but she manages to get all the wax free.  She turns off the vibrator but leaves the massive dildo inside my sore, ravaged little rosebud. 

       Feeling a chill, I realize that I had perspired to the point that my body was covered with sweat.  Tired and weary, I hang loosely in my bonds, but I’m no worse for wear; my nipples were raw and they hurt a little, but they hurt good; my pussy was a bright crimson, sore but still very wet; my clit was even still erect and standing proud, begging for attention. Sometimes I think it has a mind of its own! 

 

       Suddenly she’ straddles my head, and I smile eagerly as I looked up at my Mistress's lovely wet pussy. It must have been as moist as my own, if not more so, and she lowers her mound to my mouth. We’re in a standing 69 now.

       “You have a job to do before you’re let down,” she says with softness.

       I wonder for a quick second why she didn’t have me service her while the wax was doing its thing between my legs, either to add to my torment or make me work just that little bit harder to make her cum, but it dawns on me just as the thoughts pool in my head. As much “fun” as it probably would have been for her to do so, she had wanted to be there to see my reactions, both between my legs and more importantly those on my face; to gauge the severity of my ordeal and see how much I could take, and if it was ever too much. She knew damn well that I wouldn’t call a stop to things, almost no matter what I was being tormented with, but my face was like an open book to her and she could read me like the back of her hand, and know when I really had had enough or when I could keep going.

       I moan happily as I open my mouth to receive, lick and suck my Mistress's clit and I assault her sweet cunt with my lips and tongue. Her own lips find their way between my legs as I begin to work mine, and suddenly her tongue is sucking, licking and soothing the hurt away. We both moan in pleasure as my tongue darts in and out of her pussy.

       I begin to rub my Mistress' clit with my nose, and as I move my head back and forth she trembles, fully aroused from waxing my pussy, and I can sense that she’s close. I feel my own orgasm rise at the same time, and moan into her cunt as I like it long and hard. Knowing that her expertly dancing tongue was going to make me cum again soon, I buried my own tongue deep into her pussy as I moan aloud.

       Soon I can feel her body begin to shake, and I try to concentrate on my writhing Mistress as my own body begins to quiver, her marvellous tongue driving me towards the edge. Sensing that she was close to an orgasm, I intensify my licking and suck her clit harder, and I’m rewarded with her muffled screams into my pussy as she convulses in a savage cum, shaking and squirming from absolute pleasure. Between her cries, she taps on the plug in my ass with a finger and tells me to cum too, and that’s all I need to explode at the same time as she does.

       I bury my face into my Mistress's pussy, my tongue swirling as I groaned aloud, quivering and wiggling as I erupt in my own savage orgasm. Her own equally powerful orgasm squirts her nectar into my face, to drench it with her juices.

[As our mutual orgasms subside, blah blah. She lets me down until I’m laying flat on the ground. She ties me down in an X on the floor, wrists, ankles and neck.]

       “Didn’t think we would be done just like that, did you?”

[I whimper, I get the ballgag and soft cries as the cloverleaf clamps are applied to my sore nipples, and she explains that they’re there to tenderize the area for something else later on. My mind wander again, and that’s the biggest part of the whole game as I think about what new torment she has in store.  I take deep breaths around the gag.]

       “In the mean time,” she says standing above me. I open my eyes and she has another candle in her hands and I cringe. She holds it high above me.

[I keep my eyes open to see the wax begin to drop, but then they close shut and I give little cries are it drips down onto my belly. She hold sit high but it’s still painfully hot. Drop, drop, drop, drop onto my stomach and abdomen. A few drops find the bottoms of my right breast and I give little whimpers. Other drops find the deep valley between them. More drops and I’m crying out as they overlap the previous ones, then find my left breast and travel down the other side of my abdomen and stomach. A few more find my hips and I pull on the ropes.]

[Then it’s up and over my breasts and I give loud cries, shaking uncontrollably as the drip drip drip of the wax begins to cover them, the clamps moving around violently on my nipples. Back to my abdomen, then down the V of my crotch and down my legs and calves, top of my feet. I’m crying out as she travels up the other leg, shaking my head.]

[I yell and scream and don’t call out, but she knows it’s too much and she’s there by my head.  “Intense?” she whispers softly. I’m shaking all over, body racked but I shake my head back and forth, saying no as she strokes my forehead. “Breathe through it,” she re-assures, wiping my forehead.. When I finally come down, she asks and I say I’m ok, I’m fine, I’m good. She sees it in my eyes and my face that I’m telling the truth, not just putting on a show.]

[She asks if I can continue then, and she knows full well what my answer will be and that I’ll say yes just because, but there’s tenderness and softness as she asks for real. Finally I answer a yes and she can see it in my face again that I’m not just bullshitting.]

[Again the wax comes and I’m a little more used to it now, not shaking as badly but still crying out. When she sees my face relax enough and my body becomes more accustomed to it, she turns on the vibrator. More wax, drip drip drip until that’s it.]

[This time, there’s no tenderness when she removes the wax. She grabs at my sides with all her fingers, pulling. Pulling, pulling and I cry out each time. Then she’s slapping with her palms on my abdomen and hard ads and stomach, then thighs and calves. I cry and breathe hard.]

       “Gotta get all that wax off.”

[Slaps at the other side, pain and shock and awe but she reads my body language. I’m not tense or pulling to try to get away, just shocked and befuddled. Which is what she wants, no?]

[Once most of it is off, she returns with another vibrator. Reward? She pushes it in between my legs, and works me until I’m going to come but then stops. Not just yet. Removes the gag and it’s in another 69 and soon I’m lost once again. We cum at the same time and she pulls the plug out when I burst. She keeps going on me after I cum though, and I stop licking her, my head limp and going into subspace. She doesn’t say anything but continues to work, building me up again until I cum buckets.]

[She’s up and removing more wax from my arms and the soft tender flesh below. Flicks the wax from my breasts and I give little cries as they shake all over when her hand rub my abdomen back and forth, the clamps which I had almost forgot move about and Oh my god. “Ohhh, am I shaking those?” “Yeeeeeesssssssssss!” “That’s too bad.” More rubbing. “Gotta get all this wax off.”]

Chapter 38

Day 5.

[The final day is about testing my physical ability. I’m super fit so she’s going to see how hard she can push me. She wants to know if all the sadistic torment up til now had prepped me for the most gruelling day yet.]

[First scene, I’m on my back laying on a pad with my knees up in the air, frozen in the middle of leg crunch. Knees up high and bent towards my chest to 96 degrees, feet together. I’m made to use every bit of strength I have to prevent further torture to my nipples because they are clamped and the chain pulled and tied to my feet.  If my feet lower my nipples suffer. Eventually I can’t and lay my legs flat and they’re pulled to the max.]

[I’m then put in an inverted hogtie suspension and brutal orgasms are ripped from my body.]

[To end the day I’m bound to the wall and made to endure “extreme” pussy torture (just clamps, nothing serious or anything).]

Chapter 39

[Coming up on the end of month 3, last 2 months all ended with going out somewhere public, and they seemed to grow in frequency of what I was made to wear under my clothes or what I was “suffering” through. This time it’s not different, and I wonder what I’m for?]

[Starts ben walls balls in my pussy, I clamp down hard as I stand and she says I’ll get a little help to keep them in so don’t worry. They’re intended to NOT provide me with enough stimulation to cum but enough to keep me right on the edge and in a constant state of arousal.]

[Outfit is followed by a simple breast tie, squeezing them together and then around to pinch the nipples. Brings it down to a crotch rope, with two strands to pinch my clit between them and up to wrap around my shoulders. Has the effect of pinching my nipples and clit as I walk. Excruciatingly delicious.]

[I wear a short jean skirt, thankful of its thickness to hide the ropes, a white halter top and a black jacket over top, once again hiding ropes. Unable to wear a collar, I get a black choker to finish it off, with little metal hearts clasps in the little. I look amazing, I have to say. :)]

[Before we leave, she says she forgot something. Bend over, lifting skirt, and told to spread my cheeks apart. Give soft cries as the rope is pulled between my legs. She separated the ropes bring pulled through my cheeks and I get a vibrating dildo in my ass.]

[Turns the plug on low and off we go. OOoooo, ahhh all the way to the garage. With every step, my ass contracts around the vibrator a bit and the balls are doing their job moving around inside my pussy, and it tightens and squeezes around them. I dunno how I’m going to make it through the evening.]

[Sit in the back seat, and they put it on high as we go to the restaurant and I’m squirming around, trying to watch outside of the car to keep my mind off of it.]

[Goes back down to low as we arrive and then we’re seated. Pleasant meal, halfway through Mistress asks me to accompany to washroom. We go into a stall (thank-god!) and she has my unzip the skirt and raise my shirt. Little nipple clamps are attached and one more for ny clit, all attached with a Y chain. Nipples are already hard and pinched so she has to pull them a little to get the clamp on, but she does that anyways no? Same with clit, it’s already hard and exposed and being rubbed from the ropes on either side of it. Squeal a little as the clamp goes on the hood, trapping the little bud. Hope no one heard.]

[Dressed once more, we go back to the table. She thrums the plug up to a medium and I try to contain myself. Eventually we go home, and in the car we sit in the back while he drives. She plays with me all the way home, the vibrator on full. ]

[Nipple clamp catches when I get out of car, give a little yell. Back upstairs and I’m sandwiched between the two of them, her working my front with a strao-on and him in the back. It’s amazing!]

Chapter  40

[Introduced to other people, clubs and stuff but no play. Just talking and introductions until one night come home with another couple. She’s on top, he on the bottom. Hmmm, interesting.]

[Starts on the bed, he’s tied in an X to the posts. Vibrator dildo in his ass, nipple clamps connected to a cock ring with a Y chain. He’s hard as a rock. I’m told to get up on the bed and position into a 69. I do, settling myself on top of him, and she explains how he’s never cum from just a mouth on his cock, so I have a job to do. Can I, with my magical mouth?]

[Always up for a challenge, so let’s go.]

[After a little bit, she slips a vibrator into my ass, and I have to reach back and fuck myself with it. This brings me down onto my one forearm to hold myself up, and I take more of his cock into my mouth. Tongue washes his cock as I take the whole length. Gluk, gluk, gluk.]

[Cane on right ass cheek. Come on, can’t take all day. I feel him tense but he’s still a ways away. Cane on my foot and I wiggle and squeal, then the other foot. How ocme it’s taking sooo damn long? Play with his balls, and I have to use my elbow to hold myself up now. Continue fucking myself, his tongue feels like magic and I want to cum, but I can’t until he does. Finally use my tongue and mouth around the head, and after a few minutes of tugging on his balls (which tugs on the nipple clamps), he’s cumming in my mouth and I never even had to touch his cock.]

[Yay me. :)]

Chapter 41

[After another whole week of play and more meeting of people (all casually), there’s going to be a party and I’m going to be the hostess, serving drinks and snacks. Oh boy, I have a feeling that’s not going to be quite it. We go over everything beforehand, in one of those moments when we’re just two people talking, to make sure I’m comfortable with this, and then she explains I might have to do “more” and even as she explains some of the things, and even though she’s quite vague and doesn’t give any specifics (why spoil the fun after all?) of what I might have to do, I find myself growing wetter as I nod and say it’s OK.]

[I get a good sized plug to keep me company then, buckled with a leather belt around my waist and then another up between my legs and I go about the room serving drinks and what not, dressed in a skirt and blouse. After a little while, I get the little screw clamps on my nipples, under my outfit. Resume serving, then I get the little vibrating ring on my clit, held in place as the wide belt goes over my clit, and resume serving. Another little while, and I get little clamps for my outer pussy lips and I resume serving duties.]

[Finally, entertainment is to begin, and guess what, but I’m the main show! Have to stand in the middle and strip, and I freeze. It was one thing walking around the room, with all the things under my clothes, and I’m sure they knew something was up but they couldn’t have known exactly what… but now they’re going to get the full picture. I want to bolt out the door, but with shaky fingers I begin to strip, and even put on a little show as I do, because well… :)]

[Once I’m naked and standing before them, the comments start and I blush, redder than a tomato or anything else. They notice how my ass is a warm red and how my cheeks are turning the same color and they get even redder. Comment on the plug in my ass, how lovely it looks with my firm ass cheeks clenching and oh god, it’s taking all I can to stay there. ]

[Finally, Mistress has me walk over to her. Taking a small ball from the box before her. She throws it. "Fetch that for me, on your knees." I hesitate but before she has to repeat the command, and I know what that always means, I fetch it, quickly. More urgent because of my condition. The movements making all the clamps wiggle and the plug inside my ass move all the more. ]

[She sits on a chair and waits for me to bring the ball to her with my hands. No, she says, with your mouth. I whimper, and reach down to grasp it in my teeth and then bring it back to her on my hands and knees. She throws it again when I bring it back, then again after that, and again. I loose count after ten. Doing what she wanted in urgent haste and debasement. Hoping to please her enough to take the driving orgasmic irritation from inside me. "Do not dare orgasm," she says, seeing it on my face.  This amuses the crowd as they see it too, my fuck-me-I’m-going-to-cum-face. I hang my head, ashamed that I had been so obviously aroused in front of a group of people. ]

[Finally, it’s a "come here and turn around." I do, bending over so she could see my tan, red buttocks and keeping my legs well apart when she tells me to. "Back up closer to me. I need some leverage to push this in." She has another phallus in her hands and I whimper. It was one of those thin then wide then thin ones. The kind that stretches your ass impossibly large then closes around it after. “Spread them,” and I reach back to comply, looking at the floor because I’m sure as hell not going to look at anyone.  She takes the plug out and I gasp, then I feel the small end of the new being pushed easily into my ass and  I rest my face near the floor in resignation. It’s not uncomfortably large as it goes inside me, I’ve had much bigger of course, even the real thing. I feel it spearing me, filling me, then buckled into place to be held even against the push of the muscles of my anus. She strokes my back, pulling on my hair so I would stand up. "Come with me." ]

[Back in the middle of the room, standing before everyone.]

       “Who wants to help remove the clamps?”

[This gets several volunteers, and I stand where with my legs spread and hands clasped behind my head, shoulders out, breasts pushed forward, ass out and on display for the world, it seems. Volunteers come up one by one and I squeeze my eyes shut as they remove the clamps form my body.]

[Next, a little education perhaps?]

[She hands out a series of toys; a flogger, a cane, a paddle, a hand brush, and so on. Told to bend over and grasp my ankles, and then it starts as they one by one come up to deliver a few strikes with each as they’re taught how to use whatever implement they have. When they’ve all had their turn, Mr. Munroe comes with the cane, so that he can show everyone how to properly use it; how you can give a girl nice little red welts without breaking the skin or causing any real damage. I’m told to stand up for this, legs wide, hands back behind my head and he starts with my legs, going up my calves and then thighs, inside and out. Now bend over, and he works my ass. Down on my knees, and he works my breasts, teaching the class as it were. One final lesson are the feet, and I cringe because it’s what I hate the most.]

       When that’s done and I’m given some water to drink and my body is covered with nice little red welts, she hands out another series of toys out to everyone ; she passes out (a few pairs?!) of the metal nipple clamps that can be tightened, a nipple stretcher that consists of a rubber saddle thing that goes between the breasts with this T shaped rod extended from it and on top of that are cloverleaf clamps that can be stretched towards the top of the T, some little metal bra thing with holes for the nipples to be pulled through, another pair of metal nipple stretchers that are like two rings connected together with some rods with the clamps on the top so the bottom ones can be placed onto the areola and then the clamp stretches them up to the other ring, and one more devious metal device the fits around the areola and has these little metal chopsticks that trap the nipple.

       ‘Damn, my indestructible nipples are really in for it now,’ I think to myself.

[She then comes back to remove the vibrating ring and the belt, but keeping the plug nestled inside my bum. When she removes the crotch strap, I lose concentration and the balls slip right out from my overheated pussy. Oh no, I think! But she says don’t worry, for those to have slid out that easily, they must have done their job. She slides two fingers into me then, rubs my clit and says yes, it feels like they did.]

       With hot blood pumping with fury through my limbs, I struggle for composure. Sweat breaking out all over my body as I fight the urge to flee this room, and all the people in it. I can see them and can only guess at what they think as they look at me; my burnished naked flesh, my new red welts, and the visible fluids on my thighs from desire. I tighten at the picture I must represent, and it almost has me needing nothing else to orgasm where I stand. Breathing in short hot bursts as if I had been running, I ask her to be blindfolded and gagged and she grants me that with a surprised expression, asking with a smile if I’d prefer to be tied up as well? I nod, not knowing if I have the courage to stand there on my own, and she binds my hands above and behind my neck, lifting my breasts in the process. My legs spread, she ties my ankles to the floor and once I’m gagged and blindfolded and tied into place, I settle down somewhat and the humiliation of it all subsides (somewhat anyways).

       “If she’s gagged, what about her safe-word?" That was a woman, older with a voice like melted honey.

       "Sarah, did I gag you?" I shake my head vigorously. "Did you request to be gagged?" I nod the same way. "Do you want Gizmo?" NO! My hair moving in my vehemence, practically whipping me. "Are you ready to play?" YES!!! She touches the opening to my now exposed vagina, the wetness seeming to get bigger. Syrupy thick. "She's wet. Periodically, during our play. I'll ask her how she feels. Gizmo is her safe word."

       Her hand leaves me in sweet torment, and I barely hear her words over the pounding of my heart thundering in my ears. Words softly spoken to the group about the roots of desire and expected responses. I relax into the bondage and feel soft hands on the sides of my face. Her hands, I could smell her. I went beyond thought, beyond the room, into that secret place inside me that was the true base of my desire. I surrender to the situation. "See how the restraint enhances the submission. She has given up whatever mental struggle caused her to ask for the gag and blindfold eased her into the physical sensations she is expecting us to inflict on her. Her mind is free. She is no longer expected to control herself. That’s been taken that away from her."

       That was it exactly. The pure, undiluted essence of what I was feeling. I was beyond my own control and into her, soon to be theirs.

       She calls the volunteers up to the middle of the room with her and asks the first one to step up. Her hand tightens on my face, her thumb stroking my cheek absently.

       I feel unknown, hesitant hands on me. Squeezing my breasts then lightly pinching the nipples until the tips harden into little knots of pleasure. They move slowly down my quivering ribcage to rest on my belly and the gentle sloping curve above my legs. My hips twitch and the low laughter reaches my ears, a hot blush creeping up my neck, prettily, I hope. Lower the hands move, more confidently this time, just skirting the hot moist hungry triangle at the apex of my thighs. I moan, a low miserable sound.

       One touch of those fingers would send me over the edge.

       The same hands touch me all over. My legs, my arms. Lifting my breasts to roughly squeeze them. “Try these ones carefully," my Mistress says. I hear the tinkle of a chain, but couldn't see the small steel clamps in the ladies’ hand. They were the ones with the tension screws set in the tops so they don't do any real tissue damage. "They work best when they are tightened after application, restricting blood flow to whatever area they are applied too. They don’t even hurt until you take them off."

       I was still hot and ready for some action. Not this slow maddening head-trip, where she explains every single thing that is being done to me.

       "Here, like this," she take a hold of my right nipple and twists it painfully, smiling at the quick painful jerk of my torso, then clamps the little steel torture device on the sensitive, pulsating tip. "The twist gets the blood coming to the area and when you clamp it, well, let's just say that it has a much harder time, getting there."

       The unknown woman does the other one, but much more slowly. A harder pinch though, and a tighter set on the clamp. My Mistress loosens it. "Not too tight, now. Some blood must flow, or the area goes numb. She has to be able to feel it."

       One of the others in the room asks how you could tell if they were tight enough, and Mrs. Lucy gives a solid wrench on the chain connecting my breasts to each other. Arching my back forward and making me groan. "Tight enough. They didn't come off." I could hear the smile in her voice. "Do the ones between her legs, the same way."

       Now I know why she had handed out more than just one pair of them. I feel the clasp of tight little steel teeth against the soft wet folds of my labia. Pinching me just firmly enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to bruise. Whomever puts them on gives a little tug on the trinket's chain and plays with slick wetness seeping out of me in unfulfilled desire. I get another little pair of adornments on my earlobes and a quickly applied something in my belly button, maddening me and distracting me all at the same time.

       "They are used as reminders that her body is not her own. By binding the cleft closed and inaccessible, we are reminding her of her ownership," Mrs. Lucy was speaking to the group softly. Her voice cold and clinically arousing. "We can leave her be for a few minutes, slightly heated, to await the next lesson."

[They come back and she asks for volunteers to come up and and all the clamps are removed, and I feel tongues massaging whatever areas the clamps were on. They send little shivers all throughout my body, so many different tongues and I get goosebumps all over. Oh my god!]

       The next volunteer comes up, and she has a very long butterfly clip with a small peg on the lower end. With my Mistress’ instruction, she pinches a portion of my clitoris up from the rest of the kernel, and clamps it. The embrace of the little vise achingly strong and miserable, Mrs. Lucy moves the vise and rocks it, laughing softly at the convulsive movements of my vagina and the quivering of my thighs from the strain. The small peg on the end jams under the heart of my clitoris, pushing it firmly, achingly.

[It comes off and the next volunteer comes up.]

[The stretcher is next, explain how it’s used and done, and then pull them up slowly.]

[Next the metal bra, it’s pretty simple, pinch and pull nipples through the holes.]

[Little metal stretcher, pull and stretch.]

[Then the last and most devious. Little metal chopsticks pinch the whole areola, making the whole thing protrude. Then a clamp for my nipple, and I shake all over with the sensations.]

[They come off and I’m given another little rest and some water after the gag is removed. Now for being a good girl, I get a choice, and guess what? I get to cum in front of everyone. I can do it alone on my knees and work myself to an orgasm, or she can help me out. I take a minute to decide, and just before I do she says too late, I get both. Of course! Starts with her doing it, so I can get accustomed to the feeling of cumming before everyone and soon she has be cumming while I stand there. ]

[Then it’s time for my own performance. I kneel, presenting myself to the crowd, and my fingers work and I’m reminded back to that very first day when she had me do this in the kitchen for her, on my knees, and I try not to picture the crowd but only her as I bring myself to a climax.]

[When it’s time to go home later, I accommodatingly spread my legs and allow my Mistress to re-insert the Ben Wa balls, then I’m bent over and I have to reach back and spread my own cheeks as she puts in a plug., thanking her afterwards. She twists the dial in the base of it afterward, putting it on a medium setting and it starts to buzz away as she locks them both in with a chastity belt that goes around my waist and then up between my legs, securing it with a tiny padlock. Once I’m dressed and on my way out the door, I get a kiss goodnight and she gives me the key to unlock once I get home.]

[The walk home as slow. I was tired, sore and the plug and balls were keeping me on the edge of another orgasm. I didn’t want to cum in public, so I had to keep stopping to prevent myself from going over the edge as the balls continued to move around inside me. When I finally did come home, it was all I could do not to play with myself when I removed the plug and balls. Obviously, my Mistress would have no way of knowing if I did, but I was a good little slave.]

[Eventually when the last one is done, it’s decided I should get a reward for being so good. And low and behold, I’m going to get to cum in front of everyone. Haha, no surprise eh? ]

Chapter 42

Another party at the end of the week, but one to go down in history. We talked about having a fascination with gang bags, the feeling of so many cocks and hands and everything, but it’s not something I would ever do with a bunch of different guys, so she says she has something in mind, and maybe a way to make it happen at the end of the week.

So all week we play as usual, and she finds new and more devious things to do while every day I think (and look forward to?) Friday, it’s finally time. As before, I’m to be the serving girl, and I get a nice plug to keep me busy, plus the ben wall balls but instead of a crotch rope, she has these little vibrating panties instead. She turns them on at different intervals and at different frequencies throughout the night. Halfway though, I’m given these little nipple clamps that have bells attached to them, and they jingle as I move about the room.

It’s a mixed crowd, only a few men and I notice how it’s predominantly female. Hmmm, coincidence? Finally, it’s time for the festivities and I’m standing naked in the middle of the room. The comments start then, and a few people notice how I have no little marks or welts on my body, and then it’ suggested that maybe they can fix that before we start?

       Bent over at the waist, I grab my ankles. I jerk when the lash lays small red stripes across my tender flesh. Mr. Munroe is behind me and it wasn’t as hard as it could have been, but the pain was still real enough and soon it begins to leave little red marks. My ass and lower back soon bear criss-cross red strips as the rest watch, spellbound. Sometimes he struck my ass, sometimes the backs of my calves or thighs, sometimes my heaving breasts bore the brunt of the punishment.

[Finally the “ordeal” is over and now that I’ve gotten some lovely red marks on my skinit’s time for my “surprise”. I kneel for a few minutes, gasping and catching my breath. My ass was red and little welts formed where the rod had caught me, but no skin had ever been broken and again they weren’t nearly as hard as they could have been. ]

[The line of girls starts forming in front of me and the first one steps up to the plate.]

[Two hands grip my head and pull me forward, my mouth directed precisely into a very wet pussy. I begin lapping at the juices, determined to give the woman a quality orgasm, knowing the sooner I finish, the sooner I would get my own reward. And so I go to work, and since I have no idea what works for her, I pay attention to those tell-tale signs; her soft moans, the undulations of her hips, the pressure on my head and changes to the moisture flowing to my tongue.]

[Apparently I do something right (I’ve only gone done on two girls before today) though, because after just a few minutes, my head is pulled closer and squeezed tightly by the receiving woman’s thighs. I rock back and forth as the girl experiences a strong orgasm, I reflect afterwards that she tasted pretty good, but that I couldn’t quite place the taste.]

[5 more girls get their turn, and I begin the procedure all over again. I redouble my efforts, and some take longer than others. A few even kneel down afterwards, and give me a passionate kiss, saying thank-you. The other half reach down to pinch my nipples and give little tugs while I work and all I want to do is squeeze my thighs together and cum my own brains out, but I keep them spread. Finally it’s over, and a couple of them had squirted (one quite liberally) and my face  was slick with sweat and juices. I take a movement to reflect as they clean themselves up; some tasted like vanilla, one girl lavender, another was sweet almost like honey, and one girl tasted like lemon (which I thoroughly enjoyed), each one different, so it was quite the experience. Geeez, I’m turning into a real carpet muncher!]

[Finally, it’s time for the main show, and after I’m cleaned up too I’m placed onto a mat on the floor, hands bound behind my neck and my knees bent, thighs tied to my calves, legs spread on their own. The girls all come back, the 6 of them wearing different strap-ons of varying size, shape and color and I’m like oh-my-fucking-god! If that wasn’t enough, but they were all a new kind I hadn’t seen before, able to squirt like the real thing. My Mistress says all this as I lay there waiting (in anticipation?), explaining that soft of them had been filled with warm milk (that gushes out like a friggin’ hose!), others with a creamy fake sperm substance, so that I would get the full experience at the end.]

[And so it starts, the 6 of them coming at me. I get 4 of them all at once, laying atop one girl as another is between my legs, and two straddle my head, while the other knead and massage my breasts. They switch places and we try a whole variety of different positions, 6 girls all fucking the life out of me. Haha, I’m not going to lie and saying it wasn’t fun.]

[And to finish off, it’s nothing short of (amazing?)]

I came. Not like a school girl. Not like a college girl. Not like a wife. Not like a whore. I came like the red eye express. Each climax slammed by like train cars through a station. WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! My body pounded and thrust in uncontrollable convulsions as I went through my fifth multiple orgasm. Cum again exploded from my mouth and I was forced to quaff another humiliating load of the faintly vanilla-tasting fluid. "GUUGHH!!!

One of the girls moved me to my knees and over the top of another. Then, both of them fed their fake cocks into each of my respective orifices and I found myself being doubly fucked in my ass and my pussy. Gritting teeth, I started jerking and twisting my chest as the girl under me gabbed both of my breasts and began squeezing them wildly. Then, pulling them straight down, she forced her mouth over my nipple and began sucking me off like someone sucking the juice from and orange.

"HUGLLMMBLM!" An eight or nine inch penis, no matter what it’s made of, always acts as a good gag, which I quickly discovered as my gapping mouth was plugged by the third girl.

The four of us then became a synchronized, pulsating unit; the building sexual tension, the erotic moans, the dildo friction. Faster and faster the three pumped the one. Over and over they pummeled my sexual will. My pace became quicker, my panting higher. Then, with and explosive squeal of definite female sexual agony, I cried out as they took the first climax from my body.

No sooner had the first climax tore me down then the girl plowing my ass pulled the dripping cock out and plunged it over the second one's and deep into my vagina. This sent me into a new frenzy of sexual panic the likes of which I could only dream about in some perverse sexually dominated nightmare.

The next climax has my muscles clenched, buttocks tightened, eyes squeezed shut like never before. My body grew so tight that my skin grew beet red from tension. Then, with one last futile surge of my shapely hips, my body exploded in an uncontrollable convulsion of a will sapping climax.

Still not done, the girls continued, one of them slipping their strap-on back into my behind, with the other 2 girls coming up to my face so I now had 3 cocks to switch back and forth on with my mouth.

It didn’t take very long for them to wring a third orgasm out of me, but this time they came as well, the fake cocks bursting all over and inside me.

With an eruption of lotion like, white cream, my pussy and ass began to ooze with the fake cocks’ pudding-like cum. The creamy substance oozed out and down my legs and I shuttered in (delight?) as I felt my vagina and thighs growing wet with the discharge. Still pumping, the girls removed both members and let the substance pour out onto my soft, tanned rear. She then used her hands and began smearing the substance all over my ass like a baker icing a cake.

My moaning around the other cock was soon silenced, however, as another discharge violated my pretty mouth. For a while, I was forced to swallow, then, she removed the fake penis, only to let it spray the rest of its discharge onto my outstretched tongue and face. The cum slowly poured over my lips and cheeks as I was coated with the substance. The second girl above me then pulled me and she discharged all over my bare chest, wetting my perfect breasts with the goo.

Pause-a-logue

Hi, it’s me again <smile>. I thought this would be a good time as any to take a small break, and maybe talk about safety… as I’m sure there are tons of thoughts and questions and maybe even concerns rolling around in that head of yours. I’ll do my best to try and address some of them.

       So yes, safety. There’s always a safe way to do these kinds of things, and my Mistress says always had a propensity for such no matter what we were doing. When it came time for suspensions, for instance, Mr. Munroe would always be on hand to help with the rigging and hoisting, and even though he wouldn’t take part in the actual “festivities” he was always just in the next room, in case there were any issues.

       For other things, such as the spankings and even canings, I should note that I didn’t get it nearly as bad as I’ve seen others, even when I was getting it for a punishment. Don’t get me wrong mind you, I’ve gotten it good at times (I was a smart-ass afterall, even though that tempered some) but as I’ve mentioned many times, the skin was never broke and Lucy never administered it for pure pain’s sake, or put everything she had into her swings. On most occasions, it was just about getting a nice warm up and building those endorphins up, or to mark the pretty tanned skin I had, and when it came time for a punishment, it was a lesson as it were and not a beating. I’ve seen people all over the internet who take it to a whole other level, and personally I think that’s a bit disturbing, kinda gross and not at all healthy or sane. Yeah, I’ve got a high pain threshold and I can take my licks, but even I’ve got my limits, and I was always thankful that she felt the same, and so in the grand scheme of things, even when I got it good, I didn’t get it bad.

       Hmm, I’ve talked about safe words before, but I think it’s important to note that even though I was extremely reluctant to ever use mine, Lucy could in fact read me like a book and knew me better than the back of her own hand after a while, so it was almost like I didn’t even need one. She knew when I had enough, knew when I could give a bit more, knew how to bring me to the edge of my limits without ever going over them. Yes, there were some instances where the line got a bit blurry, but once again everything at the end of the day came down to two consenting adults, and with my safety in mind. And once again, I was never forced to do anything I didn’t want to do, I never bled, I never bruised, and I came out the other side undamaged.

       Now the big and probably the most important part, is that there was always a healthy dose of real-life conversation and discussion. Whether it was in bed after a scene, the next evening or the next day or whatever, we always talked, as two regular people (if that’s at all possible) about what was going on, what happened, whether it was good or bad, if I could have gone a little more or if it was too much, what I’d like to try, what I didn’t want any more of, or what I did want more of… and all that not only led me to put myself into her hands with a level of trust that goes beyond words, it all painted the picture for her in order to read me and know me so well. Without that kind of out-of-the-dungeon, behind the scenes stuff, I honestly don’t think that kind of relationship works.

       And now, 15 years later when I write all of this, I can honestly say there were no regrets, and that’s the most important thing of all, no?

Chapter 43

It’s the beginning of month number four, and once again we’re going back to the basics; tight restrictive bondage and cumming. Since real life has me busy though, I can only visit Mrs. Lucy every other day or so, but when I deliver the news, she simply replies in that cool voice that that means that she’ll have to make each visit all the better and more memorable, no? I almost laugh at that, as if any of the other visits hadn’t been memorable? Yeah, sure. At the same time, it also sounds a little ominous coming from her, but then who am I to ever back down from something?

       My first visit has us starting almost right away, and she’s got bound with my ass and pussy beautifully exposed in the fuck-me position and I’m completely helpless. It starts with me laying on a waist-high padded box, with my head resting up against the wall and my ankles tied together and then to said wall above my head.

[The first visit has me severely bound with my ass and pussy beautifully exposed in the fuck-me position and I’m completely helpless. I’m waist high on a padded box that’s up against the wall and my head is resting up against said wall and my ankles are tied together above my head to said wall and my face is pressed between my calves and I’m motorboating my own breasts. Because I have large breasts though, I’d probably suffocate myself in that position, so she ties them up with an ‘elasticy’ rubber rope, cinching then separating them and making them into perfect round balls. This rope is different than the normal kind, as it doesn’t cut off the circulation or anything, it just lets them keep the shape. Finally, “What do you say?” and of course “ Thank-you Mistress.” My toes are even bound then, making my struggles futile.]

       It’s no surprise when she starts me off with the flogger, a small moppy one with suede straps. She starts on my ass for a little bit, then the bottom of my thighs and finally back to my ass until I’m humping the air up and down, then she brings it down between my legs for a few good licks.

       “How about we play a few little games, while you’re all trussed up?” she asks, the small flogger dangling in her hand. I look up at her with my big wide eyes, and know that it was a rhetorical question.

       She starts with my feet (of course!), slapping at my upturned soles with the flogger and soon she has my crying out. One and then the other, she attacks them for longer than I think she should, and my eyes bunch shut. It’s not as bad as the cane, mind you, as the pain is localized to just my feet, but it’s still awful because it’s the one and only area I hate to get hit. And each time the flogger hits, it’s a mind fuck on top of the painful slap, as you’re left for a millisecond between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry, but then the pain overrides any such decisions on your part and you cry out. Needless to say, she has me growling in between the cries.

       She then brings it down between my legs, and after a few strokes she has me humping the air up and down while I cry out. She asks me all kinds of different questions while she slaps away at my pussy, half of them making me laugh in response between the cries and the other half having me left without an answer, and just crying out.

       Finally she stops for a second, and I pull hard on the ropes holding me down. “Time for the first of our little games,” she coos, and I open my eyes to stare up at her. I’m not even breathing hard or anything yet, but I think to myself that maybe that’s about to change. “I’m going to give you a dozen, and you count the hard ones.”

       I whimper out a soft ‘Yes Mistress,’ and then I feel the flogger slap between my legs again. I call out a loud ‘One!’ and then feel it come down again, but only as hard as the first ones were, so I keep silent. Again it comes down hard, and I call out a loud “Two!’ and then grit my teeth as it slaps a few more times not-so-hard. Finally I yell out a “Four!’ when it comes down harder, and then she’s back to the normal slapping and this continues all the way to 12. A hard slap is followed by a few normal slaps, then a hard slap is followed by a couple of normal slaps, then another hard slap is followed by 1 or even 4 or 5 normal slaps, until finally I yell out an even louder “Twelve!” and she does have me breathing hard then.

       “What do you say?”  she coos.

       “Thank-you, Mistress!” I reply meekly.

       “MMMmmm,” she replies softly. “I think that pussy deserves a treat.”

       Before I can even digest her words, she’s crouched down between my legs and her mouth closes on my now tender nether regions. Her fingers gently spread my swollen lips and after a few good laps, her mouth closes over my clitoris and she’s got me moaning and gyrating my hips. 

[She gives me a clit orgasm and then her fingers go into me to give me a second g-spot one before I even have time to calm down from the first.]

[She puts the suction cups on my nipples and they go to like twice their size. Then its time to play another game and she has the flogger in her hand again].

       “Time to play another game?”

       My eyes plead with her but my mouth says yes.        

       “Okay,” she says, “on a scale of one to ten, tell me how much this hurts.”

       The flogger comes down between my legs and I give out a loud “Ahhhh!” and my ass lifts high up off the box. “Six?” she asks and I answer out an affirmative ‘Yes Mistress!” before she continues. “And this?” she slaps me again, asking if that’s about a five? I tell her yes, and then she gives me a soft kiss with it, so that’s about a one?

       “Okay, you’re going to say numbers 1 through 10, without repeating any, and I’m going to that you that hard. You get to decide the order.”

       My mind reels because she delivers it all in that matter-of-fact, sweet voice of hers, and at times during the whole process she had me smiling … so once again the mind-fuck comes as I go from wanting to giggle to crying out. “Whenever you’re ready,” she says, breaking my lull. Grrrrrrr.

       “Four.”

       She slaps the flogger down and I gasp and cry out. Then the game begins, and I start calling them out, not wanting to play but a participant of the game nonetheless. I ask for a three next, after I cry out and squeeze my eyes shut, it’s a six, then an eight. I shiver all over with that one and cry out louder, then it’s a five, a seven, a two and a ten, and that one has me buckling and I can’t remember where I left off. 

       “You’ve got nine and one left,” she says, my eyes open back to being all big and wide and looking up at her. “Nine,” I say meekly, and clench my teeth as the flogger strikes. As my legs are shaking and the flogger kisses me softly for the last one and once again my pussy lips are all red and slightly swollen. I’m completely unhurt though, only barely panting and breathing hard.

       She moves off then, and I see her come back with two canes. “Thick or thin one?” she asks, swiping them both through the air so I can hear them. The thick one makes less of a sound as it cuts the air and for a split second that’s the one I go choose, but then my senses kick in and I go with the lighter one, having had enough practice by now to know that one hurts a lot less.

       No surprise, but she starts with my feet, tapping away gently at my raised soles. They’re just quick little taps but I give out soft little sobs as she does first one, then smacks it hard before going onto the other one. Once again it taps and I’m wiggling my ass in the air, and then swat! it comes down onto my foot and I cry out.  Her fingers find their way to my soles then, and that gets me to hump the air even more and pull hard on the ropes and wiggle and cry out a no, no no because that’s even worse! I’ll take the cane over being tickled any day and she knows this!

       That gets a soft laugh from her, and she goes back to tapping away with the cane.

“Okay,” she finally says after moving to the other foot. “Same game, give me a number.”

       I growl and whimper, sucking in a throat full of air and saying noooo, but I’m not anywhere close to using my safeword and she knows it’s an empty plea. “Ten,” I quickly say with resignation, my eyes pleading with her.

       “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” I belt out after it strikes my foot, sucking in lungful’s of air now in great huffs. I give her a ‘nine’ after I huff, huff, huff in the air, then cry out with the same ferocity as the cane strikes. “Let’s just go down shall we?” she says sweetly, delivering an eight. I cry out and curse this time, and plead with her to just get it over with. “Very well” she says, delivering the rest in rapid sucession and in fading intensity, but they’ve all got me crying out and hips bucking.

       “No more sounds,” she says, and I grit my teeth as the cane moves to my ass. 

She alternates between taps and little strikes, and I clench and unclench my teeth as she works both tanned globes, and then she works her way up my thighs and calves once the lines criss-cross on my ass. [You see, in order to do it “safely” with a cane, or at least within my own tolerance/limits as well as her own desires to inflict, it’s all about never hitting the same area twice.] Soon enough, she has a series of horizontal red lines going up my thighs and calves, each spaced by an almost perfect inch or so.

       After I’m given a moment to cool and wiggle my ass in the air involuntarily, she’s back with the flogger. “Ready for another game?” she asks, slapping away at the tanned gloves of my ass freefly. She works the top of my ass back and forth, making my ass cheeks blush. “I’m going to keep going until you tell me to hit your pussy,” she says, delivering another series.

       “OOhhhhhhhh!” I cry out as it slaps. “Please Mistress, hit my pussy!” I call out.

       She gladly complies and the flogger slaps between my legs and I give out little gasps each time it comes down. “I’m going to keep going until you tell me to hit your ass,” she coos, and after only a few more I’m asking her to switch. “Get the game now?”

       I get three strokes to my ass before I’m asking for her to hit my pussy, and two more have me asking for it on my ass as my legs jump with every hit between my legs. She has me alternating rapidly between the two, ‘hit my pussy’ and ‘hit my ass’  and my mind quickly goes off to somewhere else until she finally stops after only a couple of moments. Only a couple moments seem like a lifetime.

       She kneels between my legs once more and I feel her breath on my swollen pussy. “I want you to cum for me,” she coos before her mouth closes on my vagina. After only a minute or less of licking my swollen lips, her mouth closes around my clit. “OOooooooh!” I cry out, my hips bucking. “Cum,” she coos, and it must be some kind of record because she’s got me crying out loudly and shocked at the same time how easy that was. Like last time though, before I can even catch my breath, her fingers are inside me, working my G Spot and her other hand holds my thigh, keeping me down without even having to exert any pressure.  I want to scream out “No, no no!” as the second, different orgasm rises to the surface, but she has me crying out “Yes, yes, yes!” until I cum for a second time in only as many minutes.

       

[She removes the suction cups my nipples are swollen and gigantic. She ties them off with twine and pulls them tight and ties them off to the d-rings that my ankles are tied to. She then says it’s time to play some bum games, since we don’t want to leave my perfect ass alone and not have any fun?  She has me ask for the butt plug, lick and suck it and then she fucks my ass with it, finally leaving it in. It’s just a dildo, nothing tapered, so I have to clench my bum in order for it not to slide out on its own.]

[Let the games begin]

[Afterwards she goes to work between my legs with her mouth once more, licking and lapping and sucking my pussy until I’m huffing and puffing and her fingers have me begging to cum and then yelling out some obscene phrase as I have a squirting orgasm, the kind that flashes your mind and takes over your soul.]

[She removes the plug but replaces it with an ass hook, inverted so she can tie the end to my toes and lifting my ass off the table. She tightens up the nipple string and then I get a tongue press as well before she lets me suffer in my bondage, unable to escape, and wait for Mr. Munroe to arrive.]

[My, how nice.]

[She gives him a blowjob while he warms my ass with the cane, then the ass hook is slipped into my pussy and tied off so that my bum is still raised, and he ploughs me something good.]

Chapter 44

The next day brings with it more basics.

       I’m standing in the middle of the room, wearing a purple strapless mini dress that goes to about mid-thigh and hugs every curve, long hair down across my shoulder and with my fuck-me-heels that seem to accentuate my long, perfectly tanned legs.

       Mrs. Lucy starts me off with a simple elbow tie, and as I hold my hands behind my back willingly, the rope begins to loop itself around my forearms just above my elbows, cinching them together tightly. The same piece of rope is then wound across my upper body and brought back around to tie into the knot above my elbows, then brought up and across my right shoulder, looped into the rope bisecting my chest, then back up my shoulder and around the back of my neck to go down the left side and looped into the chest rope, brought back up over my left shoulder tied off into the knot at the back where my elbows are.  It’s an exquisite set-up, even if I can’t see it for myself, pulling my elbows back and my arms cinched together tightly in a straight line. I even smile as my Mistress has to go up onto her tiptoes to work some of the rope; with my high-heels, I’m standing a good 6’.

       Using another piece of rope, she then ties off my wrists with several loops around them both, and then up in between them. My fingers work between her legs as she presses into me and she gives soft little moans.

       “There we go,” she coos as she finishes the tie, then grabs a handful of my hair and pulls back. I give a soft little whimper as my head is pulled back. “We need to do something with all this,” she says, using an elastic to tie it into a pony tail.

       “Can you take your dress off?” she asks.

       I whimper but I’ve still got the smile planted on my lips, and struggle to reach up for the zipper that’s in the middle of my back. Finally my thumbs find it and I pull down, shimmying out of the dress as it falls, my 34C’s coming loose in the front. It makes it down to my hips in one fluid motion, but then I have to wiggle around and reach around to my side to pull it down with my thumbs.

       “Get it over that amazing ass of yours,” she smiles from behind me. I give her a soft MMmmhmm as my thumbs work and I wiggle it down my thighs until I can’t reach it anymore. Sighing, I wiggle a little to try and get it to fall the rest of the way but it won’t budge, so I hop a few times in order for it to move, my breasts bouncing and my heels making a ruckus on the floor. Finally it falls to the floor and I step out of it, flinging it to the side with a foot and bringing with it a sense of déjà vu.

       “Good girl,” my Mistress coos, still behind me. “Now on your knees, and turn around.”

       My smile disappears but I quickly obey, dropping to my knees on the cold floor and then hobbling around to face her. Of course (!) she’s wearing her favourite strap-on, and my smile returns as she stands there, waiting. I give her my famous how-the-fuck-did-I-get-into-this-situation grin, and hobble over to her on bended knees when she doesn’t move, quickly dropping down onto my haunches and taking the fake cock into my mouth. By now, I’ve gotten so much practice that it seems like second nature, and we soon find out from the last four months, that I’ve now got one of those throats you can just fuck balls deep like a pussy. Soon I’m slurping all around the rubber dildo as it works all the way in. Once or twice, she holds my head once I’ve reached the base, holding me in place and then letting me go with a soft yelp as it retracts. My head bobs up and down again, and she tells me to relax and to let her do all the work.

       With a hand tight on my ponytail, I keep my throat open as she works my head back and forth on the cock, and she soon has me making those loud glukking noises as she works it in and out, interspersed with little cries as it finds its way all the way down my throat. “Stay,” she orders again after a few more bobs, and I try to do my best, taking it all the way in. Air goes out, but no air comes in. “Impress me,” she coos. After 8 seconds, I’m fighting to breathe and pull away ever so slightly and then back I’m down again, but 3 more seconds later I have to I pull away altogether and her hand on the back of my head is loose as I do. I give out a loud gasp as the cock finally leaves my throat, and I take a few generous gulps of air before I’m back to bobbing, and she holds me still as she does all the work this time, fucking my throat with earnest. Once again she has me take it all the way in and I hold it for a little longer, then I have to pull away with another loud gasp. “This time she says,” as my chest heaves and I gulp for air. “You’re going to take it for 30 seconds.”

       I give a little whimper but my mouth once again closes around the cock and it slips all the way down, until finally my face is pressed into her warm flesh. She begins counting and I try to swallow around the cock, my tongue working around the base and poking out around it. My hands clench and unclench behind me and I give out soft little swallowing noises around the cock, but she only gets to 11 until I have to pull away again, choking and taking more deep breaths. “Pretty close,” she smiles, and I’m back to bobbing until she decides I’ve had enough and pulls away.

        “Take your panties off,” she says as she steps back.

       I’m grunting and breathing deep, but I hook my thumbs into the back of my thong and push them down with my fingers. I wiggle around on my knees, reaching around to pull down on the sides until I’ve got it almost down to my knees, and then I have to sit back on my ass, and it’s then I notice the large pool of drool on my belly and abdomen.

“Good girl,” she coos, stepping back towards me, and once again the cock is in my mouth. My heels making little clacking noises on the floor as my legs bicycle when the cock slips down into my throat again, and after two more tries she steps away once more, pulling my thong the rest of the way off.

       “On your knees,” she coos once they’re off. “Show me your ass.”

       I’m still grunting and give little whimpers as I move to comply, rising up onto them and then bending over. “Come up, raise it up,” she says, and I put my face on the floor to comply. “Such a big, lovely ass,” she comments, and I give out a loud moan as her strap-on finds its way into my pussy. “MMMMMmmmmmm!” I gasp out.

       She holds onto my bound forearms as she begins to plow me from behind, and oh my god it’s amazing! I give out some “Ohhhhhhh yes’es” as the strap-on works in and out, and gasp and cry out when she pulls me up by my ponytail. “Ohhhhh fuck!” I cry out as my head is pulled on and my back goes straight, her strap-on a battering ram inside me. My breasts bounce and I cry out and continue to moan as she fucks me good and proper, incredibly hard and fast.

       She then pulls out and with her hand still grasping my ponytail, comes around and once again it slips into my mouth as I rise back up onto my knees. It’s positively covered in my own juices as it finds its way down my throat once more, and she somehow gets me to keep it down longer than before. I fall back and down onto my ass when she pulls out it and I once again gasp for air, and then she has me bobbing again. Finally, she stands me up and has me bent over in one quick motion, and the ploughing from behind starts once again. I give out soft little moans as the strap-on works my pussy, and they turn into soft little cries as she holds my arms up vertically and slaps my ass as the cock continues.        

       After a few moments, she pulls out again, having had her fill for now apparently.

“Back up,” she coos,        and I hobble my way a few steps backwards until I’m looking down at the metal D-ring secured in the floor. I give out little whimpers when she comes back with another length of rope, and this one she loops around the one bisecting my chest, then pulls it down and ties it to the D-ring. She walks away again and I pull hard on the rope, but there’s no way I can stand now, and she comes back with yet another. With my arms held up vertically in a strappado (above my head), she ties this new piece of rope around and into the ones holding my wrists together, and that goes into the D-ring that’s up above in the ceiling.

       I wiggle around for a moment as she goes away again, trying to find a comfortable place in this new bondage, my knees bending as my legs start to cramp. I hear it a millisecond before it strikes, and I give out a loud yelp when the flogger finds my raised and exposed ass. I then give out soft little cries as she starts to wail away on my buns, and I’m panting by the time she’s reached around 30.

       Once again she moves off and I’m left to stew for a moment, but this time she comes back with a vibrator, and I yelp again as it finds its way between my legs. “OOhhhh!” I cry out, pulling forward on my bonds before going back. “Keep your balance,” she says as the vibrator presses between my legs, my knees bending and I’m brought up onto my tiptoes, bent over.  It’s excruciating as my legs wobble and my legs spread widely on their own, my knees bending and my ass working up and down in the air.

       “You can cum whenever you’re ready,” she says, her hand resting on the small of my back. “Just say ‘I’m cumming like a slut, I’m cumming like a slut’ as you do”.

       I’m crying out and moaning loudly, rising up and down on my toes, and it only takes a few more seconds before I’m yelling out, “OOhhhhhhhh, I’m cumming like a slut!”

AAAAaaaaahhh!” I’m cumming like a slut! as the orgasm barrels through me. My legs quake and I shudder as the waves hit and I get two little climaxes, and she has me calling it out for a third time when the vibrator isn’t pulled away. “How many more do you have in you?” she asks teasingly. I mumble out an “I don’t know, Mistress” as the vibrator still isn’t pulled away, and a few seconds I’m back to yelling out that “I’m cumming like a slut!” as my knees pull together and my ass juts out even farther into the air.  I take in a few deep breaths after my fourth orgasm, but still she doesn’t pull it away, and before I can catch my breath I can feel it coming up again. “What’s my name?” she asks matter-of-factly as my she sees my knees begin to buckle and I’m swearing. “Ohhhh, Mistress Lucy, Ma’am,” I call out as I begin to give soft little sobs. “Are you going to cum again little girl?” she asks, and in a few seconds she has me yelping at the top of my lungs, followed be another “OOhhhh, I’m cumming like a slut!” but still it doesn’t pull away as a fifth orgasm rips through me. Still bent over, she has me grunting and puffing my nose in anger now.

       “Do you want to keep cumming or should I flog you some more?” she asks, the vibrator still between my legs. “OOhhhhhh!” I call out. “You do what you want, Mistress!” I say as the vibrator has me on the edge once more, and I go from being bent over with my legs straight, to being bent over with my legs bent and my ass up, to being bent over with my legs bent and my ass down, to being bent over on my tiptoes. “OOhhhhhh, I’m cumming like a slut!” I call out as the sixth wave has me reeling. “What’s my name again?” she asks, the vibrator still between my legs. “MMMmmmmmm! Mistress Lucy, Ma’am!” I call out as the seventh orgasm is on its way, and a few seconds later I’m yelping, “NNNnnnnggh! I’m cumming like a slut!”

       Finally she pulls the damn thing away and my legs go ramrod straight as I suck in air and sniffle to stop my nose from running. I gulp and gulp and gulp and sniffle as she goes away again, only to come back a minute later. “I think that’s a good warmup, wouldn’t you say?” she says, her hands coming down to pinch my nipples. I give soft little whimpers as she does, and then a loud moan as the little rubber nipple clamps close over first one and then the other one. I give out two soft little cries when I feel the small, weighted metal balls tug on them, and start to pant as they’re pulled downward.

       “Alright,” she says, going back behind me. “Just one more time?” she asks (?) and I feel her fingers spreading my pussy lips open. “How about on your clit this time?” she asks (?) as the vibrator finds my exposed little nub. I cry out as it’s pressed into my clit, my legs straight as an arrow and my ass up high. I grunt loudly and angrily as the vibrations shoot into my clit, and then give soft little moans as a finger taps at the entrance to my bum. “OOhhhhhhhh!” I call out as my knees begin to bend. The finger slips into my anus, and she’s got me reeling again. “Grrrrrrrrrr!” I grunt. “I’m cummmmmmiiiiiiiiiiiiing liiiiiiike a sluuuutttttttttt!” I yell out, legs buckling and sobbing as I climax bent over, breathing deeply as the little weights on my nipples sway back and forth.

       When the vibrator is removed, she walks around to my front once more, and I hear her doing something to the rope that’s pulling my arms up. After a few seconds, I hear the D-ring on the ceiling give a little jostle and the rope is pulled tighter. I yelp as it pulls my wrists and shoulders up painfully … but with the other rope connecting my upper body/neck to the floor, it soon forces me to rise up onto the balls of my feet, with my ass rising up higher as well.

       I cry and moan as my Mistress tells me to have fun and that she’ll be back in a bit, and I give soft whimpers and sobs when I hear her leave (but really, she goes to sit in a chair outside my field of vision to watch me suffer).  “OOOhhhhh Mistress,” I cry out.  “Pleeassse,” but I’m left to “suffer”. Thinking I’m alone, I wiggle around on my feet, and shake my upper body in an attempt to shake the clamps off, but that only gets them to bounce around violently and I cry out as they do. Grr, they’re not coming off and it only makes me feel the weight more. I sob as I settle back down, and try biting on the rope that’s holding me down to the floor, chewing on it for a little while, but that’s not going to do me any good either.

       I have no real sense of time, but it’s only been 25 minutes since we first started and I was tied up. 25 minutes, and in that time I was “forced” to swallow and choke on a fake rubber strap on and take it all the way down and to the back of my throat, tied up an entirely inescapable elbow tie, bent over and fucked, flogged, and had 8 orgasms wrought out of me before my bonds were all tightened and I was left to suffer on my own. 

       It’s not long in contrast that I’m left wiggling around on the balls of my feet, bent over, my arms and elbows lifted up to straining, the clamps on my nipples weighted and pulled towards the floor, and soon she has me down and it’s all over and into the bedroom to go over it all.

       How was it? Amazing. How am I? Amazing.

Chapter 45

The next day, and I’m once again back in the center of the room. This time I’m naked as usual, hanging from the ceiling by my wrists and the rope pulled until I’m up on the balls of my feet. My ankles are tied together with a length of rope, and so are my knees with a different length, keeping my legs together. A ball gag punctuates the arrangement and I grasp the rope holding me up as I wiggle around for a few moments.

       “God, you look amazing,” my Mistress says, coming up behind me. She smacks my ass and I give a muffled yelp. She walks around me and gives the other cheek a slap and I cry out under the gag. “But I think that fine ass of yours needs to be warmed up a little,” I hear her say as she stands at my side. With one hand resting on my stomach, her other hand works my ass, slapping one cheek and then the other. Again and again, she delivers the spanking by hand until my ass is a nice shade of red and she has my moaning, groaning, and panting.

       “What do you say?” she whispers, and I muffle out a “Thank-you, Mistress.”

       

       Her hand even finds its way to my front and she slaps at my breasts until she can feel my breathing grow with the hand she has on my stomach (a smart cookie, isn’t she?) and then it’s back to my ass until I pull hard on the rope holding my hands, lifting my legs up in the air.

       She then walks around to my front, and slaps at my breasts with a flogger.

Where the hell did that come from?’ I think as I give out soft little yelps when the leather straps find my right breast and then the left. She works the tops, the bottoms, the sides, and even the nipples with her heavy flogger [note: the heavy ones don’t do any real damage because there’s actually less contact], and I’m dancing around on my toes, staring up at the ceiling so I can’t see it coming. She works the flogger from side to side, telling me to stick my ass out (which only makes me thrust my breasts towards her) and then she goes back to slapping at tops and bottoms of my breasts. Finally when she has me panting for breath, she goes around behind me.

       I look down at my breasts as she begins to flog my ass, and though she had me dancing around and giving out soft little sobs, they’re not even reddened. “Stick it out,” she orders, and I once again try to thrust my ass out. She works the bottoms of my ass cheeks with her flogger and she’s soon got my legs quivering, and she even takes some time to slap softly at my gaping anus, which gets me to shake all over. Up and down it finds my ass cheeks, then side to side until my buns are blazing.

       She walks around to my front then, and takes a nipple between her teeth. I give out a soft, muffled ‘Ohhhhh’ from behind the gag as she pulls it softly, then switches to the other and does the same. She gives them little kisses, suckles them with her mouth and then her right hand once again finds my ass, her left reaching up to knead and massage my breasts as the slaps ass makes me dance all over again. When she uses her left hand to slap my breasts, the one that was slapping my ass works itself between my legs from behind and she has me squirming on my toes.

       “Do you want to cum?” she asks, and I nod and give out a muffled “Yes, Mistress!!”

        Once again she has me lifting my own feet off the floor and raising my bound legs into the air as I pull on the rope holding me, her fingers working themselves back and forth between my legs, working my clit. I start moaning loudly as she pinches a nipple, then reaches to pinch the other and she’s got me up in no time, ready to cum. Just before I have a chance to yell out for permission though, her hand leaves my pussy and I swing in the air, having taking a firm hold around the rope.

       “That looks too wonderful,” she coos once I get down onto the balls of my feet. “Hold yourself up like that if you want to cum,” she says, her fingers once again working between my legs. I groan and pull on the rope, lifting my legs up into the air so I’m kneeling suspended. “NNnnnnnggggh!” I cry out as two of her fingers work themselves into me. Once again she has me up onto the brink, but once more she pulls away before I can ask for permission.

       Grrrrrrrr.

       “Head up,” she whispers as she comes back to my front, and as I comply to look up at the ceiling, the flogger once more finds my breasts and I give out soft gurgles through the gag. With my hands raised above me, they’re pulled up all on their own and she has no trouble working the undersides of my firm, round 34C’s. In no time she’s got me wriggling about again, once more telling me to stick my ass out, and I rise up onto my tiptoes to comply. After a couple of minutes, she moves off to loosen the rope that’s holding me up.

       “Down,” she commands in that soft voice, and as I feel more and more slack I lower all the way onto my knees. “Good girl,” she coos, slipping the rope all the way out of the D-ring in the ceiling to fall to the floor with a slap. I get a moment to cool down, and then she uses that rope to bind my wrists and then my elbows tightly behind my back, pulling my shoulders and arms together. She removes the gag but I get a blindfold instead as I sit back on my haunches.

       Once again the flogger finds my heaving breasts, and now that I’m down on my knees she can properly work the tops of my breasts from up above. She works first one, bouncing it gently as the flogger slaps down on my breast, and then she works the other and it too bounces up and down on its own.  She works my chest for only a minute before tossing the flogger away.

       “Sit up,” she commands softly, and I hear the tinkle of a chain as I rise up on my knees. She pinches one hard nipple first and I feel the cloverleaf clamp tighten behind it, then she moves to to clamp the other nipple. “Nnnnnn!” I groan as the chain connecting the two clamps hangs between my breasts. “Not quite finished,” she coos, placing two little weights onto the middle of the chain. “Uuuuuggh!” I cry out as it’s pulled downwards, the little weighted balls dangling in the air. She gives them a little pat to get them to swing and I give a little moan and bend forward a little, my ass jutting out.

       “Open that pretty mouth of yours,” she coos, and I can sense her moving to straddle my head. I open up and lay my tongue out between the moans. “What’s that mouth used for?” she asks. “Uuuuuuum,” I moan, the weights still dangling. “Making you feel good, Mistress?” I say, then lay my tongue out again. “That’s right” she purrs. “And you do want to make me feel good, don’t you?” I moan a soft “Yes Mistress,” in response, and of course she has me beg for it. “Pleeeease, Mistress, can I pleasure you with my mouth?” I plead softly and then let my tongue hang out again. “Mmmmm,” she purrs again, inching closer until her moist vagina is on my lips.

       I go to work then, quickly opening her up with my lips and then targeting her clitoris with my mouth. “Slowly,” she commands, and I try to temper my tongue. I lap at her then, up and down, and tongue fuck her pussy for a little bit before closing my lips around her clitoris, my tongue dancing on it as I make little sucking sounds. It doesn’t take her long, and soon I’ve got her moaning aloud and her legs quake and she grasps my head with both hands as she cums into my mouth, and I continue sucking on her clit to try and wring every little bit of orgasm I can out of her, making her shake all the more violently.

       You see, I’ve always been the believer that if you’re going to hold me down while I make you cum, well I might as well keep working and try to make it as good as I can, and maybe as excruciating as I’ve gotten it at times.

       “You little minx,” she says, bending down to take my head in her hands afterwards.

She plants a deep passionate kiss on my lips, our tongues swirling, then pulls away to deliver a few good slaps to my cheek. Not hard or punishing ones mind you, just three little slaps to raise my temperature and get me to growl. I fall to my ass when the fourth finds my other cheek and she smiles from above.

       “You’re not done yet,” she says, and I rise back up onto my knees.

       Instead of my Mistress though, I’m welcomed with a hard cock brushing my lips. “Can’t let her have all the fun,” I hear Mr. Munroe say, and I open my mouth accommodatingly. I begin to bob my head back and forth, and he gives out soft little moans. “I hear you had some good practice last night,” he says aloud, removing the blindfold from my eyes. “Look up at me,” he commands softly, and my big brown eyes look up as I continue to work his cock. “Shall we see if it did you any good?”

       Hah, never one to talk with my mouth full, I nod in response with the cock still in my mouth. “Take it all,” he moans after I start to bob again, and I try my best to accommodate the whole thing. He’s not as big as my Mistress’ strap-on, only 7 inches long, but it still takes my breath away after a little bit. “MMmmmmmmm,” he moans once I pull away with a gasp, and then it’s back to bobbing back and forth. “More?” he coos, and I shake my head involuntarily before I mumble out a “Yes, Sir” and I’m back to taking the whole length of it down my throat. I gurgle and moan as I work his cock, and give out the soft little grunts and cries as my back and forth motions make the weights swing under me, pulling and tugging on my nipples. Gluk, gluk, gluk, the motions start and he does all the work for a little bit, holding my head as he thrusts back and forth.

        After a couple of moments, he pulls out completely and lets it hang bob in the air in front of my face. “You want some more?” he asks, and I nod once again and move forward. “Uh-un,” he coos. “Lick it.”

       I give a little whimper but my tongue comes out and I begin to lick around the head of his lovely cock, then I work it up and down the shaft, going around it as I do. “Beg for it,” he says, and as I go back to licking the head I do just that, asking to suck his cock once more. “By all means,” he moans, and once again I go back to bobbing, the chains and the weights doing their little dance in the air as I rock back and forth. After another couple minutes, and more gluking, he kneels down in front of me, and his fingers find the clamps on my nipples. “How do these feel?” he asks, tapping them. I give out a little cry as he taps them on them again. “Feel these?” he asks, giving them little tugs now. I belt out a loud “Yes Sir!” and he reaches down to take the weights off. “Hmmmm,” he says, the chain in his hand now. “You know what happens when those come off?” he asks.

       I give little whimpers as he lifts the chain up, and then he proceeds to stand with it still in his hand. I cry out as my nipples are pulled and I’m forced to rise up on my knees, and he puts the chain onto the base of his cock. “Come get it,” he coos, and I wrap my mouth around his cock. With a hand grasping my long hair, I begin the bobbin process again, the clamps being tugged each time I go up and down on his cock. Like before, he has me take the whole length and hold it for a good few seconds, and I cry out louder when I finally pull back and my nipples are tugged violently with the chain still resting on the base of his cock. When I go back to take it into my mouth, I get the “Uh-un” again and am told to just lick the tip. Grrrrrrrr!

       I work the head of his cock with my tongue for a little while, my nipples being pulled all the way now, and then finally he pushes it all the way in and I get some relief as his cock finds its way into my throat. Back to bobbing one more, it alternate between him holding my head as he works his hips and the chain is pulled a little more with each thrust, and me having to do all the work and the chain is only pulled a little as I rock back and forth. Finally after a couple more minutes of that, I feel him tense and I’m rewarded with the feel of his cum as he shoots it onto my outstretched tongue, and then down my throat.

       “What do you say?” my Mistress says after he pulls out, and I lick him clean.

       “Thank-you, Sir,” I coo, once again settling down on my haunches. When she finally comes to kneel down in front of me, she takes the dangling chain in her hands and I know what’s coming up. I give soft little whimpers as her hand moves up to the right clamp, and when she asks if I’m ready, I give a soft nod. I cry out when the clamp opens and the blood rushes back into my nipple, and she gives it a few hard pinches to make sure it has an easier time of it, eliciting more soft cries from my throat. When she reaches for the other one, I’m shaking slightly. “Don’t look down, look at me,” she says, and when I feel the clamp release I give another cry, which is followed be more little ones as the pinching follows. She has my growling as she takes both of them into her fingers and gives a soft tug, pulling me towards her. “Come here,” she coos, and her mouth once again finds mine and all the pain just washes away.

[Continue with me suspended in the air, in a folded forward position; top of my thighs tied together and then around my lower back, bottom of my thighs tied together above my knees and then around my upper back just below my breasts. Both of those ropes then lead up to the ceiling, leaving me suspended in the air comfortably but bent over. Elbows are then tied together and then so are my wrists and that one too leads up the ceiling. Shoulders are pulled back, but I can hold onto the rear rope. My ponytail get a similar treatment. My ankles are tied and my cakles and ankles dangle underneath me freely. ]

[Starts with his cock in my mouth again, and I have to swing back and forth sometimes to get at it. They play a little game then, my Mistress behind me with a cane and she works my ass while I work on his cock.. I swing back and forth, twirl around, my bum raising up and down in the air, all an attempt to get away, but soon my perfect round ass has the little red welts on it that she loves. When she no longer has any area left to work with, I get the cock in my mouth again and she works the bottoms of my thighs as I bob back and forth. When he’s had “enough”, I get a few strokes to my feet and I scream and flail about.]

[He comments on my gaping ass, and how it looks so good and that I must be asking to be fucked? He goes behind me then, and ploughs my ass from behind, spanking it as he fucks me hard and fast. She’s there kneeling in front of me, hands on my cheeks, kissing me passionately and looking into my eyes as I’m fucked in the ass. He continues to fuck me good, switching between holding the ropes for leverage and spanking my ass some more, and she gives my nipples little pinches and tugs as my breasts are bounced back and forth.]

[Finally he cums, going balls deep as he fills my ass with his sperm. He comes around to have me lick his cock clean of any more cum and I lap at it, knowing that it’s perfectly OK.

My Mistress then goes behind me, and with her favourite strap-on ploughs me from behind too, but she works my pussy. She eventually turns on the vibrator, and I moan as she fucks me good and proper, the vibrations finding their way into my clit every time the cock pushes in deep, and she too spanks my ass and spread my cheeks wide open to make my anus gape as she fucks me. Eventually I feel her seize up, and I ask to cum as well and she gives me permission, so we cum together, shaking all over and her holding me tight.

When she pulls out, she gives my pussy a few good slaps with the palm of her hand, making me thank her and cry out at the same time, and then I’m left to swing for a little bit.]

[When they both come back a few minutes later, all cleaned up, my ponytail gets pulled a little tighter, bringing my head back, and they ask if I thought that was going to be it and I’d be let down? I mumble and groan, and they ask if I’m ready for some more? I meekly answer a yes mistress.]

[As I twirl around, I notice they’ve both got two pairs of cloverleaf clamps in their hands, and I wonder if maybe I should have said no? ]

[He finds his way between my legs, and pinches the tops of my outter labia before applying a clamp onto each one. He repeats the process on the bottom, then puts two little weights onto each one, tugging down on my poor sensitive lips and spreading them at the same time as they both dangle in different directions sometimes.]

[She’s kneeling in front of me then, and I get a pair on my nipples, with little weights on them too. OF course, I think as I hang and swing for a omment.]

[I get the medium flogger then on my ass, and then the bottoms of my thighs. When I’m grunting, she works my breasts with it, and that’s got me growling. Because of my position, she can only work the outsides and the tops, and it finds the clamps a little too often for my taste. They both work around, making sure to get both sides equally as I sway from side to side. Soon I’m panting and breathing hard and grunting and going through all the little sounds of discomfort and pain, cheeks puffing out.]

[They let me stew for a minute, then they’re back with a candle for each of them to hold and I want to leave, but we all know that I don’t. Ready? I shake my head no but my mouth says yes and so does my body as it betrays me too. ]

[I get the first splash on the top of my foot, and a few more follow until he goes to repeat the process on my other one. Grrr, grrr, grrr, breathe in and breathe out, huff and puff. I seal my eyes shut so I don’t have to watch and grit my teeth. When they pull away, I lift my feet and try to blow on them.]

[“Ah, ah, ah,” she coos. “Stick your tongue out,” she commands softly, the candle in front of my face.  I go to comply for a split second and it peeks out before I shake my head and mumble out a nuh-uh. What do you mean no, she asks with a laugh and I know she wasn’t entirely serious. Nuh-uh I mumble out again behind closed lips. She laughs again and says no more blowing then, or else. What do you say? Yes Mistress. And what else? I’m sorry, Mistress. Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. ]

[They continue, and I get some wax on my bum, some almost running down my crack and they comment on that, asking if I can feel that? “Yeeeeeeesssssssssss Mistress!” I cry out. “Hmmm, it wants to get there,” one of them says, and the wax continues to drip drip drip and eventually it finds its way down and that has me screaming out and huffing again, like the wolf about to blow the house down. When they’re done, they say that it’s tie mot get the wax off, and the flogger is on the tops of my feet then and I give little cries as the dried wax comes off with some help. Huff and puff and then it’s onto my ass, and more huffing and puffing and I feel like I’m going to blow the damn house down.]

[Again, left for a minute and they’re back, and the weights come off the clamps on my labia. Again, they ask what happens when they come off? Grrrrrr. “It’s all swollen and gets tingly and sensitive, and when you pull” Tug, she pulls on the chain. “Ahhhhhhhh! It gets super fucking sensitive then. She gives the clamps a few taps and fingers close around. Ready? I’m breathing hard, sucking in air loudly, and nod. “1-2” and they’re pulled off. Shit, what happened to 3? Ahhhh! She rubs the lip with her finger and I give little whimpers. “What do you say?” “Thank-you, Mistress.” It’s time for the other hand and she just takes that one off without warning, and when I give her another Thank-you Mistress she slaps my pussy with her open hand for a good minute and I want to cum right there and then almost, my lips are all swollen and red and they’ve got little indents where the clamps were. Then her hand is replaced with the flogger and I cry out and sob but it’s only a hald dozen or so. Then it’s her hand again, and then her fingers go into me and she works my g-spot until I’m dripping on her. “You’re dripping on me but not asking for permission,” she lulls out when she knows I’m close, and I ask for it loudly. It takes a few more seconds and she says yes and I cum loudly, squirting just a tiny bit into her hand.  I don’t generally squirt but it’s always good times when I do? She slaps my pussy a few times and says what do I say? Thank-you Mistress. For what? For making my pussy feel good after you took the clamps off, Mistress. A few more slaps. Like that? Un, unn, unn. A few more slaps. Like that? She’s got me almost laughing now, and I belt out a Yes Mistress! Are you laughing at me? No!! You’re not? NNNnoooooo I stammer and she twirls me around. ]

[I get the strap-on then and she fucks my swollen pussy as Iry out and moan, breasts bouncing and the clips dancing. She starts the vibrations and Mr. Munroe is there in front of me, and he bends down to remove the clamps, holding my breast in his hand to do so. I cry out once and then twice, and he gives them little pinches and tugs and then his mouth closes on them and oh my fucking god, I burst! OOOohhhhhh fuuuuuuuuuck!]

[Even after I cum (without permission no less), she continues to fuck me good, getting me to rock myself back on it. I pull on the rope and rock myself back and forth, fucking myself on her strap-on, and then she batters me again until she cums. ]

[All that’s gotten him hard again, and she flogs my pussy and breasts as I give him another gluk gluk gluk blowjob and he slaps my cheeks and then cums in my mouth and then on my tongue and face before I’m let down.]

Chapter 46

[Standing facing the wall, on the balls of my feet, hands tied behind my back, wrists and elbows together, shoulders pulled back. Nipples clamped and chain tied to a D-ring on the wall above my head, pulling them upwards.]

[Starts with a hand spanking, hand on my stomach, and then a flogging until my ass is a nice red and that perfect shade. I get the ass hook and it’s tied to my ponytail, raising my ass and pulling my head back. ]

[Flogging again, and when my ass is good she works the bottoms and sides of my breasts and I’m dancing about on my toes, trying not to move around too much. Finally she takes me from behind, slapping my ass while she ploughs me with her strap-on and one hand spanks my ass while the other reaches around for my clit. Soon we’re both cumming at the same time, then it’s off to her chair after she tightens the hook and the string, so that I’m up on my tiptoes rather than just the balls of my feet.]

Bibliography / Credits

Tales From Subspace

By NIGHTQUEEN1963

Callista’s Dungeon

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