Search Results for: torture




New Event:

About dead links report me

New Section: Snuff From Movies over 3500 Clips!

Our New Project:

MultPorn


Underground-Films


3th W Prisons [HINES]

3th W PRISONS

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

Jane was an idealistic journalist, fresh out of college - she hadn't been prepared for this. Their male counterparts had been shot while "resisting" arrest and the women had been tried in a secret military court and given life sentences for the false charge of aiding 'terrorists'. In reality Jane and her fellow band of journalists, human rights activists and students, had illegally crossed the border into this central Asian country to find the truth behind the various reports of severe human rights abuses by the government.

Too late, they knew that it was all too true......

Jane had resisted the first advances of Sgt. Kalzinal in her first hours of captivity. And had paid the painful price.

Now she meekly complied when she was escorted to his small, hot and humid office each morning. First there would be the savage strapping, then the long hour of rough, brutal fucking...

Menavava was the prison warden and immediately set about to let this group of troublemakers know their proper place and duty within her institution. This was not the West. No coddling here; these young bitches would do what they were told - without hesitation. Anything and everything. She had given her female guards absolute right of ownership over these little pale, foreign bitches...

Nothing better to spice up a late afternoon guards' party than bringing in a few of those exotic foreign creatures to provide a bit of entertainment.....

"Hurry, western cunts! It's getting late and you have to get this wood back to the prison. The warden will be extremely upset if there isn't enough to keep her fireplace going all night! I hope that I don't have to another of you against the tree to join your lazy friend. She's gong to lose most of the skin of her back for her lack of dedication."

The approach of the evening hours always signaled a heightening of activity in the prison. The guards were used to the nightly orgies and mild torture parties. And the addition of this new group of outsiders made it even more fun....

The British prisoner, Fannie, was chosen randomly from her peers to be inserted in the "ripener", a age-old method of torture and discipline throughout Central Asia. The steel bell-shaped device gradually brought on cramping throughout the body - and that was just the beginning.... - but the jailers didn't want to kill or permanently cripple Fannie; they would amuse themselves with merely keeping her confined in the ripener overnight, each night for a week.

After the ordeals, Fannie crawled to her jailers, begging to become their whore, willing to do anything if only they would not place her in the device again....

Cellmates

A Western girl newly sentenced to a long term in a Third World prison usually has no one nearby to lend her moral or legal support. Her white skin and foreign manners set her apart from the rest of the women inmates. She being alone and out of her element, is a prime target of sexual abuse by the other prisoners and the guards. She will try to resist at first, but she soon learns that will only result in a lot of pain or worse. She is helpless. There is only the option of submitting. Of accepting her lowly status and any humiliations that she is forced to endure.

3rd-World-Prisons31.jpg (147980 bytes)

Rented out

19 year-old Sherry was caught while trying to help her boyfriend report on human rights conditions. Sentenced to 10 years, she was immediately taught how to earn her keep while serving her time.

Prison commodities

Americans Marcia and Susette had made the mistake of purchasing illegal drugs while on on their Asia vacation. In the face of the evidence, neither their lawyers nor their relatives could prevent them from being given long sentences at the notorious Tung-Tsing Women's Institution, known for the violence amongst it's inmates and the sad state of it's living conditions. The interior was always hot, sticky and humid, so much so that many of the women chose not to wear clothes during the day. Down within the dark cellblocks, Susette and Marcia soon learned that their strange pale skins and their exotic Western ways made them attractive commodities to their more hardened fellow inmates. Commodities to be traded and pimped out to other hungry women who lusted after them for the pleasures that they could - and would - provide with their captive tongues and bodies.

3rd-World-Prisons33.jpg (155750 bytes)

Broke in

In the Vennusima Prison for Women, located just outside Calcutta, another American girl would also find herself serving her time while servicing the more dominant members of her cellblock. The dusky, stronger Indian dykes enjoyed the American's petite, lean body and the way she accepted her position of servitude. So soft and giving. Of course she had been reluctant to submit at first, but she had quickly submitted after being subjected to a night of whipping, spanking and being fucked with the women's long, greased homemade bamboo strap-ons.

Auctioned off for the week

The Central Caribbean Women's Prison didn't get a lot of white girls within the ranks of it's inmate population. So when poor Katie was sentenced to a 50-yeat term for her part in a drug import scheme, her pale skin and American ways made her a very popular girl indeed. No one took more of an interest in Katie than Sgt. McBrye.

He knew that this new white girl would command a high price for her services at his weekly auction. The island's pimp and brothel owners would bid against each other mightily in order to rent Katie for their flesh-peddling operations.

"This white bitch is strong enough to work 24 hours per day. You can make a fortune out of her in just a week. Make your numbers, gentlemen, get this piece of white ass and get rich!

A crowded prison cell in Africa...

"Ah, here she is! Yabimi, carry her over here where we can all get a good look at her!

"You white girls are so difficult and selfish at first, but you'll soon learn to appreciate the taste of African pussy and asshole. See how your friend has decided to cooperate? See how she is letting my friend Sisi explore her?

I'm going to explore your sweet white pussy the same way! Explore you deep, right up to my elbow! I like how you white gals scream and cry....."

Bobbi and her blond travel mate, Karen, had made quite a scene after their long prison sentences were announced in the packed Southeast Asia courtroom. They had protested their innocence and yelled insults at the judge and the court officials. And now, deep in the bowels of the dank Asian prison, they would pay an additional price for their rude, Western ways....

Prisoner Bobbi had been the louder and more defiant, so even after enduring her punishment sessions along with her friend Karen; she would be the recipient of a more specialized program of attitude adjustment. Eventually Bobbi would be transformed in a model prisoner; one with whom the guards would be spending a lot of time with...

"Give her another one on the tits before hitting the box again with the iron bar…"

"Why don't we fuck her now?"

"You want to fuck a dumb cunt? Better break her in completely and we start on her when she recovers. Be sure she'll be the best fuck you ever had..."

Being a guard in a Third World women' prison might not provide a large paycheck, but there were always the other added benefits. Especially when he had access to one of the Western females who occasionally was put into one of the cellblocks that he patrolled. Those girls, far from home and usually broken and dispirited, were more easily coerced when separated and so much more servile. So much more submissive when giving their Guard - Master his demanded due with their cum-sucking mouths and their pleasure-giving pussies.

"Yup… that was nice, girl… now you stop sucking and tonguing just the knob and go for the real business… I wanna feel your chin in my big balls… C'mon, whore, swallow it all, and show me what a white slut can to do with a prick like this one!"

Karen was now a very cooperative and obedient prisoner, not like some of the other Western inmates who still found themselves suffering for their occasional displays of arrogance towards the guards and fellow prisoners.

So it was only natural for her to agree to sign her name to a formal letter of apology to the judge for her courtroom outbursts when she and her friend were originally sentenced. The ranking female guard, Miss Tunnevang, had personally dictated the letter and now she guided Karen's shaking hand to the place where she would write her signature...

"Yes, sweet child, you sign here, yes? You sign. You sign and Miss Tunnevang so happy with you and take you to her room and make you her girl. Yes, that is good that you have signed. Make judge so happy with you. And I happy with you now. You want Miss Tunnevang happy with you, yes?"

"Yes, Miss Tunnevang...."

"Good girl. You good girl. And I make you my special girl, huh? You white girls like eat pussy, yes? My pussy so hot for you. Your mouth so pretty. Will do good job on my pussy, huh? Miss Tunnevang teach you all kinds nasty things. I know you like nasty stuff, yes? I pee in your mouth, yes? You stick tongue up my asshole and clean it, yes? Yah, you be good girl and I treat you right..."

Every Third World women' prison has it's share of male and female guards who indulge their sexual appetites with their helpless inmates. The arrival of Western females only serves to add an exotic flavor to an already - savory menu of available young pussies and mouths ready to be used whenever the urge demands it.

Belinda, falsely convicted along with her two girlfriends of the crime of smuggling, was now beginning to realize the utter hopelessness of her situation there in the ancient, crumbling South American women's prison.

The first few hours of abuse that she and her friends had endured in the secluded Guards' Quarters had shown her that it would get only worse for her if she showed any resistance to the guards' demands. She had clearly indicated that she would give them anything that they desired from her. So while her two friends were destined for more hours of rough rape-fucking and pain lessons, Belinda was led away; led further back to the more private rooms. Where she would give them all anything that they wanted...

"Come, little one… My friends and I wanna know you better. Aunt Rosita will keep you safe from these bastards. No dirty dicks for you but nice, smelly wet, big pussies for your pretty face. You'll have your fun too… we'll make you cum more than what you have ever dreamt of. We work 12 hours sifts here, but yours is 24 hours… Plenty of cunt juice for you baby…"

"UHhhhhh....." Corporal Mobuku grunted as he stiffened and shot a long, warm cum-load deep inside Yevette.

"Hurry up! Get off her so that I can have my turn," another African guard said. He had been standing there watching Mobuku fuck the crying blond French girl for over twenty minutes! He was horny and impatient to get his own hard cock up in that shaven white cunt.

"Don't be in such a damn hurry, Private. We've got the rest of the evening and all night to ride this fine piece of pussy. She's quite a fuck, once you make her get going....."

Yevette could not control her sobbing. This was only her first day here after being sentenced to twenty years. And there was no hope of parole, no hope of early release. There was only the realization that every day and night would be filled with these rude, lawless guards and their big cocks......

Janey and her group visiting teacher-exchange group been naive about the political realities concerning the way things really worked in the oil-rich Middle Kingdom. They had seen injustices all around them and had decided to perhaps help things by passing out some pamphlets they had written and had printed out themselves. After all, this country was one of those that enjoyed close relations with the West and welcomed Western tourists and politicians.

Their Western country's government said little and did nothing when Janey and the other s were arrested on charges of sedition; the oil was too important, so they would be sacrificed.

Despite Janey's earnest attempts to explain her innocent actions and her 'not guilty' plea, she was sentenced to life in an all-female prison located far out in an isolated area of the host country's vast desert.

The dusky guard Latiba was assigned to oversee Janey's incarceration and make sure that the Western girl didn’t cause problems by trying to spread her political ideas. Janey would be kept in an isolated cell with only Latiba to visit her….

Latiba had to live in this out-of-the way prison, so she sometimes considered herself as much a prisoner as the inmates she guarded. No entertainment, bad food, no men. In Latiba’s eyes, the pretty pale Janey would be her only entertainment….

"It will be only you and I together here – so I will make you belong to me and only me," the guard told Janey as she continued to flog Janey’s tender buttocks mercilessly . "Soon you will

_______________________________________

The innocent group of Western teachers were now learning how things were done in this mostly-closed desert Kingdom. It did not matter if you were actually guilty; it only mattered concerning what the Authorities had already decided to do to you. In this case, the Kingdom knew that the teachers’ varied Western home countries were so anxious about doing anything that might jeopardize their flow of oil; the Kingdom had carte-blanche to do with the teachers as the will.

The teachers were destined to be released only after many decades; old and thoroughly broken. Right now, the teachers were young, firm-bodied, attractive females who were ripe for fucking and pain. Just the kind of girls that the male and female prison guards appreciated. Mostly drawn from the ranks of poor villages in the countryside, the guards and staff was fascinated with these new inmates’ pale skin, light-colored hair and their firm, pampered bodies.

"These foreign girls have to be shown what they’ve been missing," laughed one of the female guards. "They need to learn how to properly eat dark pussy and please big, dark cocks."

It was only right to initiate the teachers right away, the prison staff decided. They needed to know what would be expected of them and the price of not meeting those expectations. They would repay the charity of her prison Masters and Mistresses by the full use of their captive bodies. In any and in all ways demanded of them.

The head female guard had smirked, "I hear the white-skinned girls are forbidden to have sex with blacks when they are in their Western countries. Why don’t we give them the chance to experience the biggest cocks among our black guards? We all know just how rough and deep our blacks like to fuck – so it will be our way of preparing these foreigners for the life ahead of them."

The female guards had arranged for these new Western white girls to become acquainted with the huge cocks of some of their black male guards. The orgies of forced-sex and crying white girls would provide much talked-about entertainment.

_______________________________________

In Mumgambi; it was only right that they should be put firmly in their place.

Monica Evertt was another wrongly-convicted Western girl, falsely charged solely on the basis of her native boyfriend being accused of being a terrorist.

Whether she truly was or not was unimportant to those in authority and so was Monica’s guilt. The corrupt, politically-based courts had judged Miss Evertt guilty of knowingly keeping company with a dangerous terrorist and there were no appeals to the life sentence that had been given her.

Monica had personally appealed to one of the highest-ranking judges in the case, meeting him in his private chambers, even stripping naked and getting to her knees to suck his cock as ordered. His shaft now hard and at full length, the corrupt judge had marched Monica over to the big couch where she was subjected to an hour or so of painful fucking that ended with the judge grunting loudly as he shoot his loud deep in Monica’s tortured ass.

But it still didn’t help Monica’s case; the judge had only laughed and called Monica a cheap, foreign, terrorist-loving whore who deserved her sentence.

Monica had lost all hope. The Mumgambi male and female guards and staff had beaten and used her in almost every way in the week before she was finally put in with the rest of the female inmates. In the dirty, humid and smelly cellblocks, there were so many lesbian dykes who wanted Monica, but it was the big, tough and connected murderess Latha who put out the word that this new white girl belonged to her. Latha, along with her younger sister Seema, practically ruled the other inmates in Mumgambi and it was their cell that Monica was taken to - to serve and to service.

There was nothing for Monica except to satisfy the ever-needy and demanding Latha and Seema. Having no choice, the hopeless Western girl dedicated her mouth and tongue to servicing her two cell Mistresses’ clits and assholes and offering her own holes up for the painful agonies of the sisters’ deep-plunging fists. She was humble now, humble and subservient. Just the way Latha and Seema demanded that she be.

There was nothing Latha enjoyed more than humbling her Western cell slave by pissing in the girl’s wide-opened mouth, stripping her of any pride.

"That’s it, you sweet little foreign bitch, swallow my wonderful pee. Show my sister here how much you love the taste! From now on, you’ll be our personal urinal!"
Nancy Brennan had been framed. She had been totally innocent of the charge of trying to smuggle a much-wanted political dissident out of the military-ruled Asian country but that particular hard-line government prosecutor had personally arranged for her to be subjected to weeks of whippings, sexual assaults, rope suspensions and other punishments until Nancy could take no more of it and had tearfully signed the confession that had been prepared for her. The Prosecutor, Miss Sunsi, was there to watch as Nancy signed.

Nancy sobbed as she asked the smiling Miss Sunsi, " Why have you done this to me? Why have you treated me like this?"

"Because you deserve it," Miss Sunsi replied. "Coming into our country with your Western ways, sowing discontent. You say that you were only a tourist but IТve read articles that you wrote back in your country about my nation, about how bad we are on human-rights, about how backwards our esteemed government is. And then you have the nerve to come here disguised as a tourist! You shouldnТt have never have come here. And your twenty-year conviction will make other potential troublemakers think twice before coming here."

"But I didnТt try to contact anyone here like you accused! I only came here to see things for myself."

"Well now youТll have a long time to see for yourself just how things are." Miss Sunsi long fingers were lightly touching her own well-suited breasts, savoring some thoughts. "In fact, I and a few very like-minded friends will be taking a particular interest in your progress in our wonderful prison. WeТve arranged for a special cell for you, far from the other prisoners. A place where youТll be able to be convinced of the errors of your ways, your thinking. We women are better suited to show you the proper way to behave and show respect." She chuckled as she summoned a burly female guard to take Nancy away.

"I will be visiting you tonight along with a friend of mine who thinks youТre cute. SheТs the wife of one of our most powerful Generals, so you should be very honored that she wants to meet you so much. You will already have had a bit of paddling by the time I arrive, so IТm sure youТll be readyЕ..

The Prosecutor, Miss Sunsi, arrived to make an intimate visit with the foreign inmate, Nancy, in the special isolation cell.

"IТve brought my friend, Asha, to meet you also. I can see she likes you a lot. Here, suck on the dirty heel of my bootЕ..Yes, yes, take it deep in your pretty white mouthЕ.Ummmm, youТre going to be a good girl, I can tellЕЕ

_______________________________________

Colonel Toyas was getting a definite double-pleasure from watching his girlfriend Amelia break in the busy mouths and tongues of the two blond-haired Yanqui sisters; Toyas always enjoyed seeing her really getting into the heavy lesbian mistreatment and humiliation of new female prisoners here at the countryТs largest womenТs prison. Amelia had a nasty disposition and an even nastier sexual appetite for the young, frightened new inmates that he frequently provided her with. He liked the idea of Amelia sexually training the more naпve and beautiful newcomers for a week or so before he transferred them into the general prison population. In a way, he was actually helping these girls because after learning to service Amelia, they would be thoroughly prepared for the lusting bulldykes who awaited them in the dank cellblocks.

And not only was the Colonel feasting on the sight of his Amelia getting her hairy dark pussy licked while having her ample ass eaten at the same time, but he was also enjoying the sensations provided by the Yanqui girlsТ young aunt as she obediently used her pretty lips on his throbbing cock. Toyas guided her sucking with a firm hand on her head, making sure that the young lady did not bring to orgasm too quickly. He preferred to wait until Amelia would start to tremble with satisfaction; then he would guide his prisonerТs mouth faster and faster until he finally shot his load of thick jism down her throat.

These three North Americanos still proclaimed their innocence of the drug charges against them. Colonel Toyas would make sure that they all would soon be signing the full confessions that he had already had printed up for them. The trio had already be sentenced to at least fifty years of imprisonment; the signed confessions would allow the authorities to use them as examples against foreigners getting involved with illegal drugs in their country. Yes, a few more days and nights of almost nonstop humiliation and punishment from AmeliaТs trusty whip and these spoiled Yanqui bitches would be ready to sign anything.

The thought came to Colonel Toyas that perhaps he might not put these three foreign girls in with the other female prisoners. Maybe they should be keep strictly for his own use. There were so many special parties at which he could have them perform and provide entertainment for his close circle of friends; friends who would get their thrills watching Amelia and her prostitute buddies debasing three pretty Anglo slavesЕ.Not a bad idea, indeed.

Colonel Toyas saw that his girlfriend was getting closer to cumming from the combined attentions of the two foreign prisoners. He started pushing the head of their young Yanqui aunt, having her suck his dick faster, deeper. He could feel the semen starting to pulse up from his balls.

_______________________________________

Captain SungТs took pride in the length and thickness of his cock. Among the many women prisoners here at the Waigun Detention Center, there was a fear of having the Captain making one of his Сmidnight visitsТ. Nightly, it was an easy task to locate the whereabouts of Captain Sung; one had only to follow the pitiful cries and screams of the unlucky female who happened to be the object of his lustful attentions.

The Captain, being well-connected and in effect the absolute ruler of Waigun, run the prison like it was his own personal harem. He had no need for a wife and girlfriends; he had all the pussy a man, even a dozen men, could use. Always looking out for new flesh, Sung was very excited when his governmental superiors informed him to be ready for the arrival of a new prisoner, a newly-convicted English woman named Ruth Thomas. He had been aware of Miss Thomas; her show trial, so well-orchestrated, had been featured on all the government- controlled television and radio outlets. She had been declared guilty of being a being a foreign agent who had entered the country illegally in order to foment revolution and undermine the authority of the State.

The courtТs sentence was life imprisonment the notorious Waigun Detention Center, a place from which very few women inmates emerged intact. In reality, Ruth Thomas, an avid amateur explorer, had been guilty of innocently straying across the ill-defined border of this paranoid, dictatorial country Ц but she had been used as a tool of propaganda created to justify the many human-rights violations committed by the closed circle of corrupt Generals who oversaw the country. Now it was Captain SungТs turn to use her , use her to fulfill his own needs.

Sung had never had a chance at a Western girl and he was so looking forward to sexually subjugating this twenty three year-old blonde Englander. He was under orders to force her to memorize and sign a series of false, detailed confessions that effectively framed and accused many of the governmentТs internal dissidents of treason and of working for Western intelligence agencies. His superiors knew of SungТs tendencies and reputation (many of them having been sexually supplied with compliant girls especially chosen for them from SungТs prison). They had faith that he would achieve their goals.

Ruth had been under Captain SungТs command for only a few days and Sung was already seeing that she was nearing the point of where she needed to be. He had stopped his usual СvisitsТ with other female prisoners and concentrated on Ruth, giving her the full attention of his battering cock and hard fucking. Ruth was a typically soft Western girl, not able to withstand SungТs continued assaults and punishments as much as the native girls that he usually dealt with.

On her fourth night, Ruth was already moving her hips and grinding back toward his slamming thrusts just like the little whore he was training her to be. Tomorrow, he would begin to acquaint her with what she needed to say and sign to make the Superiors happy. But at the moment, Sung was concerned only with his own happiness, having Ruth plunge up and down on his weapon of a cock like the good girl she was. SungТs handy bamboo rod applied to RuthТs back and buttocks only added to her distress .

Captain Sung started to dig a finger into RuthТs already-sore butthole, giving his captive an advance notice of his intentions.

"Keep it up, you English whore! Better keep that rhythm or else itТs only gonna be hard whipping for you for the rest of the day!"

Hopeless Submissions

Sometimes for Western girls doomed to serve long sentences in those foreign women’s prisons of the Third World, it becomes clear that there is no use to resist. Resistance can only bring with it more pain and suffering and perhaps those daily doses of shame and humiliation can be more preferable than the whippings, beatings and strict bindings.

Rebecca was one of those who had come to that conclusion after a few days and nights of punishment at the hands of Miss Tikanu, the elder female guard, and her group of younger female guards at Butasaki Women’s Prison. Miss Tikanu was deft to Rebecca’s pitiful pleas of her innocence of the charges of drug smuggling to which the court had sentenced her to a fifty-year, no-appeal term. In fact, Rebecca had been innocent; it had all been the work of her slimy boyfriend who had escaped through a series of bribes to the police, leaving Rebecca to face the ordeal by herself.

Miss Tikanu was only interested in making sure that this spoiled white girl be taught right away that, for her, there was only submission and obedience to Miss Tikanu’s will. Under her close supervision, her guards had spent hours spanking the Western girl with their paddles and applying painful whippings to the girl’s fragile skin. And as Miss Tikanu fully expected, it was only a short time before Rebecca was admitting to everything that she had been charged with and even more crimes to which Miss Tikanu had made up just for the fun of it.

It was now time for Rebecca to prove worthy of better treatment….

Miss Tikanu’s eldest son, the big, hulking guard named Moki, worked over at the male prison a few miles away. She was so aware of his need for a nice, pretty and thoroughly submissive gal who could be his mate and be able to tolerate the rough loving that he liked to subject his women to with that truly huge cock of his. Rebecca would be a perfect young pussy for her frustrated son to use after a long day of work. Either the white would be Moki’s private fuck-toy or there would be non-stop punishment at the hands of Miss Tikanu and her fellow guards; lots of it. It didn’t matter that Rebecca was repulsed by Moki’s hugeness and the thought of how he was going to use her over and over. It only mattered that Moki’s big cock visibly started to bulge against his trousers when his mother first introduced him to the beautiful Western girl who would be his from now on.

"Do you like the white bitch, Moki?"

"Yes mom, her hands are soft... but mom, I want to fuck her asshole, I saw it in a porn movie,"

"No need to rush, son. The bitch is yours for fifty years. You have all the time to do with her whatever you want!"

"That’s it," Miss Tikanu added sternly. "Keeping jerking my son’s pole with your soft hands. Make him bigger before he fucks you while we watch. If you keep pleasing him, I may allow you to bear me a couple of grandchildren!"

_______________________________________

Nancy Quinlen’s trial in the hostile foreign court had been a sordid affair orchestrated by the authoritarian government determined to show the West that it would not tolerate interference in it’s territory by non-sanctioned foreign activists, no matter well-known they happened to be.

Miss Quinlen had been well-known and toasted in the West for her earnest travels to third World countries on missions to publicize human-rights violations and political repression of their citizens. But the small new, isolated country of Moldivia had defied outside pressure from the time of it’s formation and it wasn’t about to change it’s ways now.

Nancy’s relative celebrity did not save her from prompt arrest and being convicted of trumped-up charges of spying for the West. Of course there was a strong reaction in the West against her fate, but Moldivia had support from other like-minded authoritarian nations, a large, well-equipped army and biological weapons and a verified willingness to use them if attacked.

Poor Nancy Quinlen was on her own and at the mercy of the dictators who she had come to agitate against.

Nancy’s treatment inside the bowels of the political prison was harsh and designed to break her down so that she would eventually admit to the false charges against her. The guards and interrogators put in charge of her were people expert at getting what they wanted from the most hardened prisoners and Nancy, although being very dedicated to her principles, was no match for the hard, brutal treatment that these tormenters subjected her to.

Corporal Chu was one who took a special interest in Nancy and who made sure that she not only pleased him with her suffering at his hands but also suffered from the hard attentions of his cock. A single man who had no outside relations with women, Chu had decided to honor Nancy with all the sex that he could give her.

Now that she no longer resisted the whims and will of her captors in any way, Nancy was perfect for giving Corp. Chu the sexual thrills that he was entitled to.

Corporal Chu grunted as he guided Nancy’s tight ass up and down on his rigid cock.

"Yes, yes, Western bitch! Keep it up! I’m almost ready to shoot my load up your ass! Then I’m going to go back to whipping on you with the new bamboo rod I just ordered!"

_______________________________________

Valerie was not a tough woman. Raised as a daughter of privilege, she had never had to endure bad times or circumstances. She had been arrested and accused of being complicit in her family’s ignoring the safety standards of their huge Third World chemical factory that had resulted in hundreds of deaths of grossly underpaid workers.

Valerie had been aware of the bad conditions and noncompliance of safety rules, clashing repeatedly with her family in hopes of convincing them to change their ways. But now it was too late.

Being the dishonest people that they were, Valerie’s family denied any responsibility and refused to make any financial payments either to the government or the families of the those who had died in the explosion – leaving Valerie as the scapegoat to face the full fury of that country’s leadership.

There was very little sympathy for Valerie, either from her own or other Western governments, and there was no help from her family who refused to offer help with legal representation; they had long decided to sacrifice her in order to distance themselves as far as possible from responsibility for the disaster that they had caused. For Valerie, it was a sentence of life in the harsh Yanadu Women’s Prison.

Valerie was petite, white and soft. That made her the center of attention of both the criminal female inmates and the dyke-oriented guards there. It was only an hour after her arrival at Yanadu that Valerie was taken down into a basement cell and whipped throughout the night by a secession of female guards determined to show this notorious Western prisoner just how low her status would be inside this dank and forbidding place. Valerie’s cries and quick acceptance of her circumstances made her even more of a prize for the lusting lesbian-oriented female guards; guards who decided that Valerie was just too good a prospective sexslave to be shared with the common inmates.

The big, tough guard Taymara and her girlfriend Rivi claimed first rights to Valerie.

"I’ll share the white girl with you," Taymara told the other female guards. "But keep in mind that she belongs to me and Rivi first and we’ll decide who gets use of her besides us and when and how often. And you know how I’ll deal with any of you who dares trying anything with her without my permission."

And since Taymara had been the prime suspect in several unsolved murders of both Yanadu inmates and other guards over the past years, they were no challengers.

Valerie was now the property of Taymara and Rivi, living with them in their large room in the female guards’ quarters…

The guard Taymara heavy hand-spanking of the Western girl’s tender young cheeks was the signal that Taymara was ready to have her wet pussy eaten again.

"Good news for you, terrorist! We're going to keep you here in a private cell all for yourself. Chained, of course, severely gagged and with your fuckholes plugged waiting for us to visit you. Are you saying to say thanks you spoiled little brat?"

"Please.... oh please, Miss... you... you're scaring me... and you're hurting me.... please... leave me alone..."

"Shut up and get ready to lick our cunts now, and then eat out our assholes!!! Spanking you is getting me excited and I know you want to please me...."

The two foreign-aid workers had be accused of nothing when first arrested. No explanations were given as they were handcuffed and taken to the war-torn countryТs prison located at the far reaches of the desert nation. The pair, Marlette from France and Sharlene from the States, had come to the country in order to coordinate aid shipments to starving sections of the country that had been cut off from much-needed food and water.

To put it mildly, the host country was not pleased to have Western aid coming in; it had long tried to use the deplorable conditions endured by the population as yet another weapon against the rebels who were fighting the government forces. Helping to feed the hungry was also helping to feed the rebels; that was the way the authorities saw it. But they could not afford to openly antagonize the West; they could only resort to more subtle methodsЕ

"Why have you brought us here? What have we done?" Marlette could only speak those two sentences before one of the prison guards slapped her to the floor.

"Shut up, you foreign whore," the guard yelled. "Both of you are nothing but rebel-loving Western spies sent here to work against my government! Well, weТre going to show you that weТre not going to just stand by while you interfere in our country," he added as he pulled Marlette to her feet and started to tear away her clothes. Marlette screamed but couldnТt do little else as she was eventually stripped nude. Her screams got louder as the guard began beating her with his belt.

"Go ahead, scream! The louder you scream, the harder IТm going to whip you!" At that, Marlette stopped her screaming, giving out only soft moans as she endured the painful belt flogging all over her tender body.

The guard was pleased with MarletteТs obvious submission, saying "I thought youТd get the point! You Western women just need someone to put you in your place! Look at your pretty friend over there; my buddyТs whipping her too!" He laughed as he made Marlette look over to where the other guard had forced Sharlene to strip naked before he began to use his own belt on her. Sharlene whimpered as she suffered from the belt-whipping that was put top her so brutally.

MarletteТs guard dragged her by the hair over to a dirty prison cot. "Get down on your hands and knees, bitch! IТm going to show you what you Western women have been missing! Get down or IТll use my belt on you really hard!"

Marlette obeyed, getting on the cot. The guard positioned her, breathing heavily now. Then Marlette felt the touch of his cockhead against her pussy, then that particular pain as his dick started to push its way inside her. He was big, very big. He kept her in position as he started to pound her servile pussy in the way men fucked women in his country.

Marlette could only moan in distress as the guard slammed her harder and deeper, his balls swinging as he attacked her.

"UhhhhhhЕ" the guard started to grunt as his sweating body clashed against MarletteТs as he continued to fuck her hard. "UhhhhhhЕ. AhhhhhhЕЕ! You sweet little Western bitch! Gonna hurt you with my cock, gonna make you beg!"

"Look how your friend is getting fucked over there," the prison guard chuckled to Sharlene as he started to drag her toward the empty cot. His long, thick cock dangled from his unzipped pants. "I think itТs time you learn how itТs like to get your cunt fucked real hard by a real man like me! Gonna make you cry just like you friend is crying over there!"

_______________________________________

Miss Mi-Leng, the Supervisor of Guards at Nunphung WomenТs Prison, was a stern taskmaster to tolerated no disobedience to her authority Ц especially from a spoiled white English girl just convicted sedition against Mi-LengТs beloved PeopleТs Republic.

Perhaps this troublemaker named Victoria Wimington had thought that she could just illegally enter the Republic in order to interview various dissidents for that pitiful little British political cable television program of hers but she was so wrong if she thought that she could get away with it. Mi-LengТs country might have been small in comparison to the other Asian countries in the area, but it had a very efficient intelligent service that tracked Miss Wimington from the time she crossed their border. They had Victoria in custody quickly and quietly.

There was much outcry about VictoriaТs disappearance but no one could account for her whereabouts. The leaders of the Republic claimed not to have any idea of what could have happened to Victoria Wimington. There was no record of her having entered the country via any of their airports, harbors or monitored roads. Perhaps, the RepublicТs authorities said, Miss Wimington had been unfortunately captured or killed by one of the many lawless bandit groups that infested the thick jungles that characterized much of the countryЕ..

But deep within the damp, dingy depths of Nunphung Prison, known only as СPrisoner No. 115Т Ц and even that by only a small, trusted group of the RepublicТs most loyal guards Ц Victoria Wimington was being subjected to unending sessions of painful beatings, floggings and suspension punishments. Miss Mi-Leng personally oversaw all the sessions, making sure that Victoria was being properly prepared what all that Mi-Leng had planned for her in the near future.

The time came when a broken Victoria was finally escorted to Mi-Lengs private quarters. Miss Mi-Leng, naked except for a support bra to help control her massive breasts, told the Western girl of what was in store for her.

"The outside world thinks that youТre probably dead," Mi-Leng smirked. "They will never find you and you will never leave this prison." Mi-LengТ pinched her own hardening nipples and rubbed her swelling clit as she said "You have only a choice of spending the rest of your life being tortured with hot irons and coals before finally being burnt alive or spending the rest of your life here in this place as my own little sex slave and keeping me pleased and happy.

"But it will not be enough for you to lick all my holes and suck my toes; youТll also have to drink my pee instead of water. And after each time, you will have to ask me to whip you if I want to. Tell me your choice now, English girlЕ"

Prison Mistress Mi-LengТs cunt-juice began to leak as she looked forward to what the blond English prison slave would be doing with her tongue.

"Yes, English girl, keep kissing my hand and begging for me to whip you before I let you eat my glorious pussyЕ"

_______________________________________

Mr. Imtuku was a faithful member of the Party that controlled all facets of live in the tiny African country of Ugubu.

Imtuku, a former military officer like the majority of the men who governed Ugubu with an iron fist, had been appointed to oversee the countryТs notorious prison system that had long been condemned as cruel and inhuman by almost all the civilized countries of the world. The ruling Generals had noted ImtukuТs talent for cruelty and torture when chasing down, interrogating and eliminating their various enemies; he was given much of the credit for making it practically impossible for any internal rivals to function within Ugubu.

He had been listed high among those that the Party had considered for future elevation in itТs ranks.

The Generals tended to be older and it was only a matter of time before the Party would need to replace them with younger men. Imtuku was content to await his turn; the Party valued patience and respect for itТs elders. Besides, his appointment as Governor of the prison system was a prize in itself. So many pretty young women interned in the female prisons; so many girls from which he could choose to satisfy his ever-growing sexual needs.

Imtuku day was made when he received the top-secret wire from Party Headquarters informing him to be on alert for the arrival of two Western females who had been captured within UgubuТs Eastern border region.

ImtukuТs big dick twitched within his pants; he had seen the photos of Marie Higgins and Deborah Rohr published in the Western and African newspapers along with reports of their being last seen while searching for ancient artifacts of the bordering African nation of Amraki.

Both were American college graduate students in their mid-20s, very attractive white girls. Imtuku had quietly suspected that UgubuТs enemies may have been indeed correct when they publicly voiced suspicions that Ugubu might have had a hand in the two womenТs disappearance.

The wire instructed to intern the two Americans in total secrecy and do whatever he chose to do in order to get their signed confessions stating that both of them had intentionally crossed into Ugubu on a mission to spy for the West. After getting their false confessions, Mr. Imtuku was further instructed to СprepareТ Misses Rohr and Higgins so that they would be ideal, obedient Сshow prisonersТ in front of hand-picked foreign media when the time came.

Imtuku had happily looked forward to the task ahead.

With ImtukuТs close guidance, both Marie and Deborah suffered through days and nights of delicious punishment and pain. Imtuku enjoyed watching the girlsТ initial stubbornness and resistance; he knew that within a few more days of even heavier mistreatment, both of them would be begging to be allowed to sign whatever was presented to them. Then ImtukuТs real fun would beginЕ.

True to Mr. ImtukuТs prediction, Deborah and Marie had been broken by the fourth day of their agonized punishments. He first escorted Marie into the commandeered Prison WardenТs chamber where the СconfessionТ paper awaited her signature. Dropping his pants while she signed the paper, Imtuku pushed Marie down on a nearby bed and there he spent almost an hour riding the crying white girl until he finally finished things off with his pumping her insides full of his thick, warm African semen.

Then it was time for Deborah. She had heard MarieТs cries and screams through the closed chamber door Ц but she was still shocked to see the sorry state of her friend as she lay on the cum-stained bed.

"Sign the paper," Imtuku growled at Deborah as he pushed her forward. "Sign it now! Or else worse things are going to get worse for you! Much worse!"

As the frightened girl put her signature to the blank СconfessionТ, she could feel Mr. ImtukuТs foul breath on her shoulder. And she could feel something else Ц the feeling of ImtukuТs hard dick touching against her rear.

"Surprised that IТm already hard again? Well, IТm sure that youТll help to do something about it, huh?"

Deborah couldnТt help but sob as Mr. Imtuku started to bend her forward while he rubbed his huge, throbbing cock between her punished asscheeks.

"YouТve been a good girl, signing that confession. Now bend over while I shoving my dick up your ass. Before IТm done, the both of you white bitches are going to be my whores."

Down in the prison's Guard Quarters, Saad hugged Monica close against him as his cock started to respond to the tugging from her soft, trembling hands.

"Ummm, that's so good, the way you are doing that," Saad grunted. "Very soon you will have me as big and long as I can get. So just keep on moving your fingers like you're doing and you will be getting Saad's shaft up your white cunt - real deep and real hard. You American girls all pretend that you hate being forced to give up your pussies, but you know that you really want it! You all like being treated like whores, don't you? Just listen to your friend back there. She's your so-called 'aunt', isn't she? Well, your Aunt Susan is going to be turned into a whore by Judge Madulla there.

The Judge will have her broken in a couple of days and after he's done using her, your Aunt Susan will be sold to one of the whorehouses in the city. She'll be listed as a prisoner here, but she'll really be fucking dozens of camel drivers and low-class laborers every day!"

Saad paused as his snake-like cock pulsed from the massaging of Monica's hands. He started to ease Monica toward his private little room. His bed was't more than a dirty cot, but it would be enough to hold Monica's trim body as he rode her.

Saad caused the American girl to shudder when he asked her, "Do you want to be sold like your aunt? I can arrange it, if you do..."

Nooooo, Please! Please don't sell me! I'll do whatever you want! Please...!"

Saad was ready to fuck now. "Come with me, American girl. We'll go to my room where we can be alone. There you can show me how deep my cock can pound your holes."

_______________________________________

Another American female prisoner, just a day after her conviction, was learning her place in the Arab nation's largest female prison. Tiffany wasn't the kind of girl who would even think of having lesbian sex in any way. That was if she was in any sort of normal situation where she had a choice. But as a pale-skinned Western girl, Tiffany had attracted the attention of almost every native dyke who saw or heard of her arrival at the prison.

The big Arab female guard had laughed when she noted Tiffany's frightened reaction to the chorus of sexual comments and catcalls aimed at her as she was escorted down the cellblock hall towards her assigned cell. "Don't worry, American, they can't all get at you at once - just the gals in your cell, jus the two of them. They're two tough women, both of them are in for murder; so I suggest you learn how to be nice to them, real nice!

Utema and Faqleti were the two dangerous women who welcomed Tiffany as the guard shoved her into their cell. Not ones to waste any time, the two Arab dykes immediately demanded that she get down on her knees and started licking their needy cunts

"You're going to have to prove yourself to us by doing a lot of pussyeating if know what's good for you," Faqleti warned. "If not, it's going to be bad for you."

Tiffany, although plainly scared, replied,"No! That's unnatural and perverted! I'll never do such a thing!"

Tiffany had barely spoken the words before Utema's big hand slapped her hard across her face, dropping her to the floor. "I'm glad you a stubborn American bitch! It's all the excuse I need to show you what happens to a foreign girl who refuses to do what she's told in this prison!" Utema snarled as she slapped Tiffany's face again.

Utema straddled American girl's chest as she prepared to enjoy the beating she was about to start giving her.

"It won't do you any good to scream or resist. It will just make us hurt you worse! You're going to be our good little girl after we're both finished slapping you around real hard."

_______________________________________

Just sentenced to serve a long term in the local African women's prison, American Emily Price was a strong young girl, still refusing to accept the injustice of what had happened to her. Emily had also refused to accept the female guards' blatant offer to "take care of her" and have her serve as the guard's own 'private girl'; confined in a small closet-like cell inside the Guard's Room.

"If you stay with us guards, you can just spend your time pleasing us instead of having to be eating all those black pussies and asshole of the women back there in the cellblocks," the female guards' Captain told Emily as she pinched Emily's nipple and twisted it. Emily, being the proud girl that she was, slapped the Captain's hand away - a mistake; a mistake that she would pay for throughout the night as she was whipped by one guard after another.

The new American prison had needed a lesson on being a 'good girl' and her punishment sessions had begun to strip her of her previous willful and uncooperative nature. When they had finally ceased to flog Emily, the Captain stepped up to her and started to once again pinch and twist Emily's nipples, much harder than she had first done. This time Emily eyes started tearing again - but she stood rigidly still as the female Guard Captain continued to torture her breasts with her strong fingers.

"Hmmmm... Yes.... Maybe you'll do. Maybe you might do, indeed," the Captain chuckled. "Now, if you can pass the next little test tonight, maybe me and my girlfriends just might let you be our little girl....."

The trussed-up Emily's screams filled the corner of the Guards' Room as the Captain of the Guards was the first to take her turn, shoving her big, hard fist deep into Emily's exposed pussy. The African guard was an expert at it, knowing just what areas to grab inside the American girl without causing any permanent injury - only agonizing pain.

"That's it, scream for me, American bitch! You're going to scream even louder when I work my arm in up to my elbow!"

In an isolated, heavily-guarded Women's Prison somewhere in the back jungles of South East Asia, American Nellie Armstrong could not claim to be innocent, being cought while photographing many of the Asian country's sensitive military installations while passing as a magazine writer.

Nellie had been discovered within a week after first entering the country and had confessed to being on American spy mission within a couple of weeks of being subjected to the most intense mistreatment at the hands of the experienced interrogator, Feng-Li.

Nellie had undergone rigorous training to prepare her in case she would ever be caught and tortured - but nothing could have prepared her for the devious and evil methods of physical and mental tortured employed by Feng-Li and her tight group of like-minded cohorts.

Nellie could only feel a deep shame as she signed the various typed confessions and cooperated in giving vital information concerning her American employers; Feng-Li had broken her thoroughly.

Now that Nellie had been sentenced to twenty years in the Women' Prison, Feng-Li saw a chance to deepen the young American female's subservience and submission. For Feng-Li, this was now solely a matter of the perverse pleasure that she would extract from stripping away the last of Nellie's pride.....

"Don't look away, Nellie," Miss Feng-Li cooed softly as she lowered her hungry, smelly wet pussy toward Nellie's face. "Keep your eyes on mine while you lick my cunt and clit with your pretty American tongue. Show my friends how much you're going to belong to me."

"Mmmm, so good, Nellie. Keep it up and I'll move up a bit so you can lick my other hole, okay....?"

_______________________________________

Muhadmud was an expert at taking care of some of the Sheikdom's more delicate problems. The ruler of the rich Gulf Nation's restive but thoroughly controlled population was extremely sensitive to any form of bad publicity and had employed Muhadmud's 'special' services to keep secret things secret.

Selma Madson, an independent-thinking teacher imported from the States, was the Sheik's latest problem that needed to be taken care of. The Sheik had badly misjudged Selma's cheery, cooperative nature as a sign that she would comply if summoned to his chamber bed. Miss Madson had been outraged and not very diplomatic while giving the Sheik one hell of smack to the mouth. Further, Selma had made it clear that she would be contacting every American newspaper editor that she could think of after she returned to her teacher's compound.

A hurried called from the Sheik to his trustworthy Muhadmud made sure that Selma never arrived at her destination.

Muhadmud had a special dungeon constructed under his modest but secure concrete home. That dungeon had seen many victims; from disgraced diplomats to traitorous relatives to foreign spies; all of whom suffered under the torturous methods applied by Muhadmud.

Now it was Selma's time.

The government-controlled media had already started reporting about the strange disappearance of the American schoolteacher. Kidnapped by slavers or a victim of a botched robbery?

Muhadmud had decided to indulge himself by using his electrical skills on Selma's whipped body. Since the American teacher had been classed as missing, he could take his time with this tall, blond girl.

Do anything he wished.

Maybe even totally break her; maybe even make her into a permanent slave to be kept down in this dungeon....

"Yyyyiiiiieeee...!" Impaled on the electric metal stake and wired to Muhadmud's hand-held gearbox, Selma could only scream unintelligible sounds as the voltages streamed through her.

"Not so proud now, are you, my pretty American? Maybe if you beg me to let you be my slave...," Muhadmud hummed as his experienced fingers played with the controls of the electric gearbox.

_______________________________________

Ginger would serve as an example to all the other female inmates at Abutun Munta Prison for Women; serve as an example that even white-skinned American girls could not expect to defy the will of the prison authorities or the guards who ruled over them daily. An attractive new arrival at Abutun Muntu was expected to follow every order given to her, no matter how unreasonable that order might be.

Usually a female guard's very first order given to an already-inspected and examined new inmate at Abutun was to "Bend over and show me your pussy". The second order was usually to "Spread your cheeks and show me your asshole". And the third order was usually to "Eat my pussy". Ginger had loudly refused the third order. That was something that could not be overlooked or tolerated - especially by a foreigner.

Ginger had been innocent of the charges against her. But she was very guilty of refusing a guard's lawful order to eat her pussy. Inmates in Abutun Munta, especially the attractive ones, were expected to provide their guards with the pleasure they needed to help them cope with the pressures of their work. It had long been recognized that one of the best female guard recruiting tools was the availability of so many captive female mouths and tongues that could be used at any time and as many times that a guard wished. The rumor was that there were thousands of applications for the female guard positions at Abutun. It seemed like word had gotten around.

Now the word throughout the prison was that the white American girl named Ginger had suffered mightily for her insolence and inability to accept her inferior position. It was all true: Ginger would never disobey any guard's order again. In fact, for the rest of her time at Abutun, Ginger would be known as the 'Guards' American Whore'....

C> "Should take the American girl down, Sergeant? I see that Corporal Imeki and some of the others are really anxious to start using her back in the 'Sex Room'. They really want to begin teaching her lessons."

"No, why don't we leave her up there for the night, just to have her suffer a bit more. They can break her in tomorrow morning."

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

Comments Off

The Barbarian Prince [AGNES]

The Barbarian Prince

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

Act 1, scene 1 - Dona Ziani’s Palace.

A masked Ball in honour of Prince Morozov is just ending. He joins his hostess on the balcony overlooking the Grand Canal. He presents her with a glass of Crimean wine.

Eleonora: (with an ironic smile) One of your country’s wines? I don’t wish to be rude but surely no-one other than an animal could prefer Russian wine to ours?

The Prince: Dona Ziani, in my country even the bears appreciate its effects. It is good for hunting, for making one vigorous. It gives one a wonderful feeling...like the kiss of a whip. (He lifts her hand) In my country we also appreciate a woman who chooses to wear a collar and bracelets on her wrists as you do. But doubtless you will think that is nothing but a crude barbarian view also.

Women, from servants to ladies of quality, wear such things to show that they have accepted servitude voluntarily.

For me there is a special pleasure in holding the leash that is attached to a collar round the neck of a beautiful young lady such as yourself. Then, making her submit... until she kneels before me.

Eleonora: How dreadful! This is slavery we are talking about!

The Prince: That is so my lady. But when consent is freely given such slavery opens the door to sexual torments and pleasures of exquisite intensity.

Eleonora: (unsettled) You amuse me Prince, and intrigue me as well. Please, if you will pardon my forwardness, may I ask you to visit me again a little later tonight? You must wear the same costume too.

The Prince: Your wish is my command Dona Ziani. You will find me an excellent teacher. I have no doubt you will enjoy the experience of being under the control of a true Master. Now, for the moment, do I have my lady’s permission to withdraw?

Eleonora: I grant you permission to leave. But return quickly.

The Prince: You have my word. I bid you good night, Dona Ziani

Eleonora: (insisting on her first name) Eleonora, Dona Eleonora Ziani. Goodnight, your Highness.

Act 1 scene 2 - Dona Ziani’s palace. The entrance from the Grand Canal

Eleonora: You are welcome again, your Highness. And what do you have in that large bag? More Crimean wine?

The Prince: No, Dona Eleonora. I have merely brought a few implements to allow you to experience those intimate pleasures we talked of earlier this evening. I’m pleased to hear that you continue to mock your guests. It will give me even greater pleasure to punish you for such impertinence.

Eleonora: You rouse my curiosity, and make me even more impatient to begin. Give your bags to my maid; she will take them to my apartments where we will have dinner.

Unless that will embarrass you?

The Prince: By no means. An invitation to dinner is an excellent opportunity to begin the lesson I promised.

The Prince: The apprenticeship begins, training is the same for any creature, a bear or a dog – one starts with obedience.

You will undress. Undo do those laces and ribbons.

Eleonora: Yes, your Highness. I will obey you. But may I plead with you...?

The Prince: I’m listening...

Eleonora: I implore you not to be too harsh with me. Have mercy, I am a novice.

The Prince: Agreed. Now obey your Prince’s orders.

Present yourself naked in front of your Master.

Eleonora: I am here as my Master commands. Is it your wish that I remove my stockings?

The Prince: No, come closer. Kneel so I may tie your hands behind you. This collar is for you. Now these bracelets for your ankles.

Eleonora: Yes master.

The Prince: You are an apt pupil. Can you feel the gentle pressure of the collar encircling your neck? That is the symbol of your submission.

Come! Kneel up straight, offer yourself to me.

This riding crop is your reward. Do you shiver as you feel the leather tip caressing your breasts?

They shall both receive equal punishment.

Like this...

A Master has a duty to punish a slave for every small mistake.

The severity of the punishment reflects the importance of the error.

Eleonora: Th-thank you Master for showing me the error of my ways.

The Prince: Slave Eleonora such exemplary conduct should be further rewarded.

Let me fasten your ankle bracelets so your legs are held apart so....

Now you are ready for your Master’s pleasure.

Ah so ready, so wet and open...now feel the size and virility of your Master’s manhood.

Some while later...

Eleonora: (murmuring softly) Thank you your Highness. I love the exquisite pleasure you have given me as your slave. Thank you for being my teacher in the arts of love...

Meanwhile, elsewhere in Venice: Signor Fradentelli signs the warrant for the arrest of Eleonora.

Act 2, scene 1 - Dona Ziani’s Palace.

It is late at night. Dona Eleonora is alone when the Doge’s guards burst into her room.

First Guard: Lady Eleonora Ziani. You are herby under arrest by order of the Doge. The charge is High Treason. Your property and possessions are forfeit to the officers of the Serene Republic. You will appear before the Grand Tribunal but first you will be taken to the Prison of the Republic and tortured until you confess your crimes.

Second Guard: Stand up traitor, hands behind you so I can tie them.

Eleonora: (who doesn’t fully understand what is happening) No! It’s a lie, a foul slander.

First Guard: Such a garment is too good for scum like you... rags are all you deserve.

Second Guard: Open your mouth, kitten. We don't want every one to hear. This wooden pear will keep you quiet.

Second Guard: An iron mask, a nice gag and a rope round the neck... that's how we deal with traitors in Venice...

First Guard: Ah... you find my little saddle cord uncomfortable. Don't complain, it's nothing to the pain you will feel in prison...

First Guard: Hey, Pietro! Whet do you think of our gondola's new figurehead?

Posted August 17th, 2003

Act 2, scene 2 - The main torture chamber in the infamous Doge’s Prison.

Master Giaccomo: (very obsequious) What a great honor to welcome you on your first visit to my humble prison, Lady Ziani. I have had your rooms prepared specially. I will escort you there without delay.

Oh but first, your clothes... we don’t allow clothes for TRAITORS! (yells)

On your knees, whore!

Sergeant, stretch her neck until she's on tiptoe... while I whip these rags from her body.

Master Giaccomo: Watch carefully my friends... you will not see such skill with a whip often!

Master Giaccomo: Girls are like mares. They need a good blacksmith to add that special touch... There, nearly finished. A pretty pair of manacles for your wrists. Now, just the waist belt and neck band to complete your prison jewellery.

Master Giaccomo: Let me give you a short tour, you will find it interesting. This girl is a witch. She is riding our 'pony' so she will confess before her trial starts. Just like you. Here, I do not bother with truth. I make people suffer and provide a little glimpse of Hell. If they are foolish enough to tell the judges they are innocent... then they are returned to Hell until they change their mind.

Master Giaccomo: These are the ancient reservoirs for the city. They run below the prison, now we keep them for the most obstinate and special prisoners. Or the more desirable... I'm sure you will find them charming and refreshing. Oh yes, I did leave out one little detail. The tide comes in twice a day. And when the water rises...

Master Giaccomo: The dungeons, the first two are in use but I have reserved number 3 for you. Ah yes, a pleasant looking young man. A poet, he was foolish enough to publish some verses that mocked the Grand Council. His tongue's been cut out and he's been castrated. He's been less talkative since then.

Master Giaccomo: This is an interesting device, don't you think? The body of the criminal can be secured and fully exposed for questioning. Like this... A useful device to use with lovely young ladies like you...

Eleonora: Oh please sir, please let me go...

Master Giaccomo: Release you, that's a joke! Come now we haven't even finished preparing you yet. I'll just shave your cunt. Later Paolo can be your hairdresser and cut that blonde hair short so you don't get cold in the dungeon.

Eleonora: Oh God, have pity... plea... (Her words are stifled as Paolo forced the head of his cock between her lips)

Master Giaccomo: Don't resist. Open wide and use your tongue. Show Paolo how skilled you are. Swallow the refreshment he's giving you... Such soft smooth skin... (Eleonora writhes in pain as they twist her nipples and whip her breasts) There is one more hole to fill. Aah... yes, a true aristocrat, you can always tell, smooth as warm silk.

Master Giaccomo: A fine whore. As payment for your services I shall flog you tonight. Now it is time for you to rest for a little while.

Master Giaccomo: Here we are. Turn round so we can attached the hook to your waist belt. Then it's down you go... Getting up is a more delicate matter... it depends on how I feel. It's up to your torturer to decide.

Eleonora: (sobbing) Oh please, please I implore you...

Master Giaccomo: Shall I whip you now, kitten?

Eleonora: No, Sir.

Master Giaccomo: Then be silent. (he turns and speaks to Paolo) Lower her... slowly...

Master Giaccomo: Good night, harlot. Give my regards to the rats... (the rest of his words are cut off as the trapdoor slams shut)

SLAMMMMMMMM!!!

A pale glimmer of light seeps into the dungeon. A glimmer that slowly dwindles and fades leaving Eleonora dangling in the blackness of anguish and despair.

Posted August 29th, 2003

Act 2, scene 3 - The Grand Torture Chambers beneath the Doge of Venice's Palace. Dona Ziani's dungeon cell.

Master Giaccomo: Hoist the traitoress up. I suggest you hold onto the chain as you come up. We have a long day ahead.

Eleaonora: (gasping and pleading) Gaaah! You’re strangling me!

Master Giaccomo: Of course. But don’t worry; we won’t let you die... yet. Do as you’re told and we’ll let you down. There, like a turkey plucked and trussed for the table.

Master Giaccomo: Ah, a delightful and stimulating view, don’t you agree Paolo?

Paolo: As you say Master Giaccomo. Plucked and ready for stuffing.

Master Giaccomo: Her arse is tight as a fist. But we’ll soon loosen her up. You have a certain cure for that don’t you...

Paolo: I’ll hold you by the neck and you can wriggle your arse down onto my cock. That’s right. My old mother (God bless her) said dwarves were always particularly well endowed and virile, Nature’s way of compensating, she said. Don’t you agree, whore?

Master Giaccomo: There now, you’ve made my cock all slimy and ready for you to clean. Suck it carefully. You won’t get anything else to eat and if you don’t satisfy me it will cost you an extra 20 strokes of the whip.

Go on...attend to your task. This is something you will be doing every day until your trial is over. If you’re lucky you’ll be here for weeks... if not, it could be months.

Every morning the prisoners are taken from their cells ... The women are raped and whipped... for our own pleasure and amusement and then the men are made to fuck the women.

The prisoners always make sure that they suck every drop of semen from our cocks... after all they get nothing else to eat.

Aaah, no, no don’t stop my kitten. I can feel more sap rising in my balls.

After the fucking comes the whipping.

(He grunts with excitement) Aaaah, yes...yes the torture and pain of the morning whipping...

The long bullwhip is our favourite toy. We encourage each prisoner to sing out in turn... while the others are hung up, dangling like smoked hams, to await our pleasure.

Listen well, being raped and whipped in the morning might save you from being raped and whipped in the even...

(He cackles with mirth) ...some hope!

Aaaaah! Oh yes, yes, faster... I’m coming....I’m coming! Yesssss!

Yes, you whore, swallow it. Swallow it all... that’s your meal for today.

Ah-hah, I see you were hungry.

Not too bad for a first time as a newcomer.

Master Giaccomo: She makes a pretty hanging toy. Something for you to play with, Paolo

Paolo: Let’s watch her dance as I teach her the song of the whip. There Master, just a few strokes and she’s wriggling her bottom and making those nipples bounce wildly for us.

Master Giaccomo: (ironically) Truly a dance of excitement. She’s wriggling and squealing like a stuck pig. But our guest’s little diversion is over. It is time for her to begin to pay the penalty for her crimes.

Time for the cross, kitten.

Eleonora: The cross? No, no please...I’m innocent, innocent of everything. Please have pity Master, I’ve done nothing to deserve this.

Master Giaccomo: (he slaps her face) Silence, you whore!

Who gave you permission to speak? I am Master here. Your body is mine to do with as I wish. Of course you may scream and groan as you wish as each torture increases. Eventually you will tell me all I wish to know... you will plead to be allowed to confess, to say anything I wish you to.

Eleonora: Never! Torture me as you wish. But I will never give in, whatever obscenities you subject me to I will not sully the honour of my name!

Master Giaccomo: Your honour? You just don’t understand do you? Behind these prison bars you are no better that the cheapest prostitute. You are a filthy whore with no rights on honour to protect,

Paolo, a rope. Twist it tight round her neck and stop the bitch’s tongue wagging.

Master Giaccomo: Tighter, her mouth is still open. That’s it, relax a little, Paolo.

Do you understand now, kitten?

Will you obey me?

Eleonora: (Unable to speak, she nods desperately)

Master Giaccomo: Very well.

Paolo, tie her elbows together...very tightly. Yes, like that.

Listen, my pretty lady, my pretty little whore...

However much you wriggle and kick you are quite helpless. I will control your tongue from now on.

Very soon we will clamp the lead weights onto your tongue, your nipples and your labia.

Then, after the crucifixion, for some extra entertainment we will pierce you in those places before hanging the weights from the holes.

Posted September 12th, 2003
Master Giaccomo: Gently Paolo. Let her slide down onto your shaft. There...now her ladyship can enjoy the pleasure of two cocks fucking her at once...

Paolo: Where are the clamps I want?

Eleonora: (in an agonised whisper) Pity, have pity.

Master Giaccomo: There, good thing you've got a nice long tongue; the weight will swing nicely.

Master Giaccomo: What do you think of the nipple weights... are they tugging yet?

Master Giaccomo: There...that should keep you busy...stop you relaxing too much. Now, if you will excuse me there is a stubborn young sorceress who needs my special attention. Some extra chastisement to loosen her tongue.

Master Giaccomo: (a little while later) I apologise for the delay. Ah, I see you are making use of the wooden wedge. The more you sit on it...the harder it gnaws and scrapes at your cunt. How do you like the feel of this whip. It's one the Turk's use for teaching their women obedience...see!

Dona Ziani screams and writhes at the searing, hot kiss of the lash. But, eventually, even a master like Giaccomo is forced to halt as she slumps unconscious against her bonds. Night falls and the torture chamber is silent apart from the sobs and tormented groans of the victims. From time to time, Eleonora, left high on her cross of pain, struggles back to consciousness, but the pain of her crucifixion is almost unbearable. The lead weights clamped on her tongue; her nipples and her labia, sway gently with every little movement. Each time the do, they stretch and twist the delicate flesh with stabbing agony. The rough wooden wedge of the sedulum presses deep into her cunt, a splintery saddle that rubs her most sensitive place into raw, burning agony. Eleonora hangs alone in the darkness, every muscle a blazing sea of unending pain...

Act 2, scene 4 - The Grand Torture Chambers beneath the Doge of Venice's Palace. The following morning.

Master Giaccomo: The stench is repulsive. She’s dribbled and pissed as well as soiling herself. Well, well our poet’s cock is hard.

Let him fuck her then put her in the cage. She can join the navy at sea for the day. This evening she can have my full attention..

But, at the moment, I must attend to this young sorceress.

Paolo: Come on, you rutting pig, mount the sow!

The Poet: Your pardon, my lady. I have no choice in these degrading antics

Eleonora: (She says nothing but closes her eyes)

Master Giaccomo: (talking to the naked figure of the young sorceress dangling upside down behind Eleanora) Ah, ready for me again? My little cat will warm you up in a moment. Now, kiss the tails nicely before I start...

Paolo: This ankle spreader will hold your arse and cunt wide open so they get well washed.

Undo the mooring lines! Enjoy your trip in our gondola... and the bath!

Paolo: I hope you don’t have any bread with you in the cage. The rats are always hungry and they’ll nibble at anything.

Until later, kitten. Tonight we will have some special games to entertain you.

Hah... hah... hah (he giggles obscenely)

Farewell!

Posted August 21st, 2003

Act 2, scene 5

Paolo: I hope you’re clean, bitch! Let me check… Eh, eh. Getting cold while I handle you? I’d gladly warm you up, but today others will take care of you…

Oh! There she is fainting… I’ll have to carry you to the examination machine. You’ll have to pay for this!

Master Giaccomo: Witch! Paint her up like a whore. Eyes and mouth. Tits and cunt. And the ass, too. I want her to look bitchy, to be a tease in the most whorish way. And don’ t forget to shave this hair she’s still got down there.

Master Giaccomo: You look beautiful this way. You’ll be a nice slave when I sell you to the Barbarians.

Paolo: Let’s see that cunt. Her slit is like a target waiting for the arrow that will pierce it. The witch did well.

Master Giaccomo: Such a good job should be rewarded. I’m going to make her squeal. Bend forward, bitch, right over the machine.

Paolo: Here comes the slave, Master, wrapped in her fish net. Just like a fish, fresh off the sea.

Master Giaccomo: Nice catch, Paolo. I hope we’ll get a good price for her! Is the standing-stock ready upstairs?

Paolo: Yes Master. And ideally located so that everyone can fully enjoy the show.

Master Giaccomo: I’ll take the harem slave-to-be with me. Blindfold her while I’m getting ready. She dances better when blind (smiling).

Master Giaccomo: Walk away, slave. Tonight you’ll be a whore for the soldiers. I hope you’ll do well and bring me a small fortune!

Posted September 7th, 2003

Master Giaccomo: Here my 'Lords' we have a true harem slave. She was once a noble lady but she betrayed our glorious Republic. For her crimes she will be sold as slave-flesh to the Turks. But it is a pity to let such beauty go to waste and it is only fair that you should be able to sample her charms first. Look at her smooth skin; note her aristocratic bearing and those firm, full breasts. And there's more... I can see you're desirous of seeing more. She will be your toy, your plaything for you to use as you will. All that is asked is few small coins for each hole you use to take your pleasure. First, to whet your appetite, she will dance for you... See, see how she responds to the whip. Such a delightful and stimulating show.

Master Giaccomo: Did her dance arouse you, make you hot and hard? Now, my Lords let me unveil the body that awaits your virility

Eleonora: Please, please my Lord... have mercy...

Master Giaccomo: (Enjoying his role as market seller and ignoring her protests) Open those thighs wide, slave. Show the gentlemen the hidden delights that await them. Observe my Lords, the sweet, moist flesh... those full cunt lips like a juicy pear awaiting that first luscious bite. A ripe and juicy pleasure-fruit indeed, my Lords.

Master Giaccomo: Patience, my Lords, patience. First let me arrange her posture for your complete convenience... there, the stance of a slave in heat.

Master Giaccomo: There, my Lords. Ready and prepared... held open for you so she is unable to resist your virile attentions (He whispers to Eleonora alone) As for you, bitch, arch your back and push your arse out... and your tongue too! Unless you want me to use these pincers on your teats?

Eleonora: No, no Master, please have mercy...

Master Giaccomo: Don't forget top drop a few coins in the cup she holds my lords... fill the cup... and fill her too. Fill her till she dribbles seed from every opening. (The grinning guards all roar with laughter at the jest.)

For long hours the guards abuse Eleonora's pinioned body. Each takes advantage of her again and again, in the cunt, the anus or in her mouth.

At times she is fucked at each end simultaneously. And with each fresh impalement another insulting coin chinks into the cup gripped tightly in her hand. She knows not to let it fall now. She did once, when the first man rammed himself into the tight, virgin hole of her anus and she screamed in pain.

The penalty for that lapse was a vicious thrashing from Master Giaccomo... so now she holds the cup tightly, another lesson learned.

The drunken guards took her without respite, slobbering foul wine-sodden kisses on her face before forcing her to suck another thick, smelly penis until her mouth filled with semen once again. And when they were spent they used the things that lay around, a bottle or the rasping hilt of a sword, to continue their foul assaults... Eleonora never knew exactly what it was they thrust into her cunt.

One thug even used the fire tongs from the grate, crude pincers of rough metal, to twist and pinch her breasts and pull her tongue so she feared it would be ripped from her by the roots. Then, without warning, everything stopped.

Master Giaccomo released her and she staggered forwards, her thighs and chin glazed and dripping with sticky trails of semen. He wrenched her arms behind her, cinching her wrists together with metal cuffs before throwing a coarse fisherman's net over her head. This time there was nothing to conceal her nudity... or the marks of her recent abuse.

He clipped the leash to her hated collar and led her back towards the great Torture Chamber. Every step filled Eleonora's soul with total despair... when would this torment cease?

click on images

Posted October 29th, 2003

Act 2, scene 6

Paolo: Did she serve them well, master?

Master Giaccomo: Oh yes, quite well... and my purse is fat with the profit of her labours. See, she is an excellent working slut.

Aren’t you, my pretty bitch?

Enough of this idle chat though. She must be made ready for her trial... it starts on the morrow. Take her down to the caves, a good overnight soaking will work wonders.

Eleonora: Oh God, please, please Master, not the cage! I will not survive that again. Please, I’ll do anything you want... but don’t put me in the cage... please!

Master Giaccomo:
Well, well, this is new... our little aristocrat is suddenly co-operative ...
And what exactly would you do for me, slut?

Eleonora (whispering):
I-I-I w-would b-beg you, M-Master, t-to use my m-mouth for your p-pleasure...

Master Giaccomo:
Well how kind... but do you think I would want to be tongued by someone so filthy... i
t would be like dipping my cock in a sewer...
But I am a generous man and I will grant your request...
we shall find another way to cleanse you properly.
Paolo will take you to the Chair...
among its many uses it allows us to clean our guest most thoroughly.
Ha-ha-ha (he laughs aloud at his own wit and grins sadistically at the shivering girl)
Let me remove my official garments and I’ll be back to witness the cleansing of Donna Ziani.

(Master Giaccomo strides off still chuckling while Paolo, tugging on the leash, forces Eleonora towards a small, dimly lit room opening off the main torture chamber)

Eleonora: (as she catches sight of the grim apparatus in the room) Ah no! No, not the iron horse!

Master Giaccomo: (having changed robes and smiling unpleasantly) Not exactly the traditional ‘iron horse’. This one is much more... versatile... as you will discover. You see this extra apparatus here, the tubes, jugs and funnels? You will mount as usual to be saddled on this iron ridge. This leather cock will keep your anus well stretched and filled whilst the spikes on the sides of the horse and the backboard will provide a continuous reminder of your plight.

Oh yes, the phallus is hollow and connected to this tank up here... and the other section, here connects to your mouth thus holding your jaws wide apart.

These taps allow me to control the flow... from a single drop to a gushing stream. We are going to fill you from the inside this time... a powerful jet into your rectum and a slow, constant drip into your mouth.

Eleonora: Noooooooooooo!

Master Giaccomo: You begged and I listened, how can you complain?

And when you are bloated like a drinking bladder we will hang you up with your peephole and anus well stoppered. You will wait until I say you may relieve yourself. After all, we don’t want you pissing until you’ve swallowed the full ten pints of water.

Master Giaccomo: Here is the hollow shaft that will stretch your anus so we can fill it with the other ten pints that Paolo is preparing. See how hard it gushes...

Up the arse and down the throat... equal amounts... Ha Ha Ha

Paolo: The jars are full, master.

Master Giaccomo: (to Eleonora) Take it all the way down your throat, lick it until it’s wet and shiny... you want to make sure it will slide up into your arse nice and easily don’t you?

Master Giaccomo: Hurry, step up and onto the stools... sit down!

Hurry up, or shall I use the crop on your arse as well? That’s right... finally you’re doing as you’re told.

Master Giaccomo: There, all ready... cunt closed, mouth and anus stretched open.

You’re quivering with anticipation, aren’t you?

Are you impatient to begin... i n a hurry to be filled to the brim?

Master Giaccomo: Let us not keep our guest waiting... open the taps Paolo!

Master Giaccomo: Aaah, yes... you have that growing sense of fullness, distension? Disturbing isn’t it.

This is but the beginning... once you hold the full twenty pints you will understand what true suffering is.

Master Giaccomo: There, your guts are distended like a sow’s belly. The rest you’ll swallow... drop by agonising drop.

Master Giaccomo: The sow is near overflowing. Stop a moment Paolo, turn off the tap. Leave her to relish the growing agony of her plight for a little while.

Finally, Eleonora faints from the horrible pressure pain of the water in her bladder and rectum. Some time later Master Giaccomo and Paolo return and take her off the iron horse

Eleonora: Arrrrh, I can’t h-hold it please, please let me relieve myself!

Master Giaccomo: Relieve yourself? You jest... this sport has barely begun. You will stay like that, bloated for your foul crimes for a good long time yet.

Did I not tell you the water stays until I decide to allow you to release all you have taken in. And just to make sure we have some cleverly designed stoppers. Look, see how ingenious it is... just a little twist of this knob and it widens out as much as you desire. This one is for your mouth... and its companion will keep your anus tightly plugged.

Go on Paolo, ram it right up... her arse has been well stretched already.

There, that’s all done...

Master Giaccomo: Go on, hobble back in there... and don’t you dare leave any crap on the floor... hold it in good and tight or else...

Master Giaccomo: You will hold the water until noon. These spreader bars will keep you open. Remember, you may not relieve yourself until I tell you at noon.

Paolo: Master, look, the filthy sow has soiled the floor!

Master Giaccomo:
Despite the clearest instructions you choose to disobey already,
you foul, disgusting whore!
I’ll punish you myself for this...
That offence demands at least thirty lashes across that swollen bellyful of piss and cum.
Scream and wail all you want...
but leak another drop and I’ll flay the skin from your body with the Turkish whip.
Paolo, take the other crop and join me.

Master Giaccomo:
We will be back to see you later, whore.
Oh, yes, I almost forgot...
this afternoon you face the High Court of the Republic...
Rest well!

When the water had first gushed into her rectum, Eleonora had bucked in spasms, her body fighting the restraints as she screamed in pain. But as she rode the iron blade of the horse, ramming the hollow probe even deeper into her anus while the cruel metal clamp twisted and pinched her cunt lips, her screams died to no more than a bubbling whimper. A second stream trickled into her open mouth, forcing her to gulp and swallow continuously to avoid choking.

Eleonora could feel the pressure growing in both her belly and her rectum as the water continued to flow, swelling her body beyond endurance. Even when the first jug was empty and no more water surged into her distended rectum, the endless drops still filled her mouth. Each drop swallowed bringing another tiny increment of agony.

Her eyes rolled back until only the whites showed between slitted lids as her throat worked and worked, each convulsive movement adding to her own self-torture as her distended body became a single bloated sack of pain

A long time later, after they had taken from the horse, there was further agony as cruelly shaped plugs sealed her mouth and anus, each one slowly expanded so they stretched her flesh while their spiked surfaces scraped and scratched the most tender membranes inside her body.

They took her to a rack to be hung spread-eagled, with iron bars keeping her splayed open.

Of course, as they well knew, it was impossible that such an overfilled container would not leak... and leak she did, a foul mixture of saliva, bile excrement and urine that dribbled and trickled from every orifice to form a stinking puddle on the stone flags.

And for that transgression she had been punished. Two grown men enjoying their work, their strong arms wielding crop and cane with practiced, diabolical skill so the strokes seared bars of pain across the swollen mound of her belly. Stroke after blazing stroke of pure, white hot agony until consciousness seeped away and the welcome darkness closed her mind to horror.

Dimly she heard them talking about her trial... let it happen, she screamed silently in the agony of her mind. Whatever the verdict, whatever the judgement... let this hell come to an end...

Act 3, scene 1

Master Giaccomo: It is time the bloated sow was drained. Hold your arse over the bucket!
Paolo, take the plugs out...

Master Giaccomo: Now you are drained you will wipe the floor and clean up this filthy mess!

Master Giaccomo: Now for your turn, a quick wash to make you presentable to the Judges.

Paolo: Bend over bitch, so I can wipe your arse!
Mmmmm, clean as a whistle, my finger slides all the way in...I feel like fucking her up there right now.

Master Giaccomo: Enough, Paolo, stick your cock in one of the others if you’re desperate but she’s got to be presentable for the Judges.

Master Giaccomo: We won’t need a collar. Just a halter round the neck and a robe, not forgetting the leg irons, the manacles and the waist chain.
By the pox, Paolo, watch what you’re doing! The robe’s trailing in that liquid shit!

Paolo: I’m sorry, master. A thousand apologies, my lady but your fine gown is somewhat soiled.

Master Giaccomo: Ah well that’s the prisoner’s uniform. Looks dreadful and sackcloth is so harsh...but who cares? Such rags for a harlot are quite good enough.

Master Giaccomo: Put the noose round her neck, it’s time.
Walk before us, traitor...it’s time to hear the charges

Act 3, scene 2

First Judge: At last, the prisoner we’ve been awaiting. Court will come to order. Read the indictment.

Eleonora: This is monstrous, an outrage! My Lords, I swear by Almighty God that I am falsely accused and that I...

First Judge: Silence! The prisoner will remain silent or her tongue will be ripped out and she will be branded here and now! You will speak only when ordered...
Just in case, Master Giaccomo...heat the irons!

First Judge: Tighten that noose round her neck a little...trying to avoid slow strangulation should keep her silent for a while.

Posted December 6th, 2003

First Judge:

Let it be known that in this Year of Grace 1788 the Most High and Serene Republic of Venice doth charge one Dona Eleonora Ziani with High Treason.

The evidence of these foul crimes is overwhelming, being attested to by loyal and diligent servants of the Republic. In regard of the high esteem and confidence reposed in these aforesaid servants their depositions in this matter shall be taken as true and therefore not subject to question or enquiry. The Court therefore....

Second Judge:

(Talking quietly to Master Giaccomo while his colleague drones on) This is delightful...somewhat unsettling, perhaps for my lady’s more private places. Although I am told that some ladies actually find such treatment arousing. A few men too, it is rumoured. Ah, my thanks, Master Giaccomo. (He takes a thick leather glove, slips his hand into it before taking the white-hot iron.)

Listen carefully, my lady. You have a choice. Either do exactly as you are told, or I will roast your flesh with this rod.

Remove the irons and strip her!

What an exquisite specimen...such firm, tender flesh (the judge uses his other hand to maul and pinch Eleonora’s breasts. She can do nothing to prevent him.)

And she even smells like a fragrant rose...a delicate bloom marked by the kiss of the whip.

Look hard at the iron, my lady...can you feel the heat on your flesh?

Now...what will it be, obedience or burn?

Eleonora: (panting with terror) I will obey you Your Honour...and remain still and silent as you command.

Second Judge: Excellent, Oh yes we will listen to you singing in a little while but for now the court has no desire to hear you. Master Giaccomo, I perceive that my learned friend has finished reading the indictment. You may proceed to make the prisoner ready for the Question.

Master Giaccomo: Come here slut. Step up and stand astride. Hold the pole behind you while I tie your ankles.
Good, all secure
Now, kneel down. Just like a prayer bench isn’t it. You’ll be praying hard in a few minutes...praying to talk that is ...

Second Judge: Master Giaccomo. Be so good as to explain the working of this new device.

Posted December 18th, 2003

Master Giaccomo: (Still busy lashing Eleonora down to the restraints on the torture platform). My pleasure, your Honour. As you can see she is tied at ankles, wrists, waist and neck and kneeling spread legged on this hinged frame. That’s locked into place with this wedge, here. The device holds the victim splayed open so her cunt is in exactly the right position for the insertion of this serrated and spiked metal stake. Naturally the position of the stake can be adjusted so it can be inserted into the anus if preferred...
Now, when I remove the wedge...the platform swings forward and the prisoner slowly slides onto the stake.

Second Judge: What an interesting invention. The effect on the victim must be exquisitely painful...

Master Giaccomo: (chuckling) Agonising, my Lord. Oh yes, don’t forget the noose that tightens slowly to strangle the victim as well. But, my Lord, here is the really interesting part.
Observe the ingenuous mechanism, these ropes and pulleys. Without effort I can drive the metal stake deeper and deeper...all the way until they are riding that ring of spikes if the victim should prove reluctant to confess. In truth such pressure is rarely needed. The agony is quite unbearable anyway. (He laughs aloud) You can rip her cunt open and crush her neck at the same time with almost no effort at all!

Second Judge: Marvellous. Such skill and expertise...any prisoner should feel proud to be put to the Question by such a Master Interrogator.

First Judge: (approaching the group) Is the prisoner in position?

Master Giaccomo: Yes, Your Honour.

First Judge: Prisoner Ziani, you will now be put to the Question. You will be tortured until you confess to the crime of High Treason of which you have been accused. Do you understand Prisoner Ziani?
You may reply

Eleonora: (trembling with terror) Yes, Your Honour.

First Judge: Very well, let us begin. Do your duty Master Bourreau!

First Judge: Confess, woman!

Eleonora: (barely able to speak) N-no, no..aaahh.

First Judge: Force the stake a little deeper Master Bourreau.

Eleonora gives a strangled gasp of agony as the dreadful device forces the tapered metal shaft even deeper into her cunt, stretching the delicate inner flesh to the limit whilst at the same time the noose tightens slowly round her neck.

Second Judge: (whipping the outthrust peaks of Eleonora’s breasts with a short leather quirt.) Will you not confess your crimes?

First Judge: Enough for the moment, release the pressure a little, Master Torturer, so she may have a chance to speak.

Eleonora: I...I...c-c-c-confess.

First Judge: Speak them, we are listening.

Eleonora: I will say whatever you wish, confess to whatever you want bu....

First Judge: No stamina at all...she’s passed out. Undo the noose and revive her...we must have that confession in her own words.

Eleonora: (coming round) I confess that I have betrayed the Most Serene Republic...that I am guild of lewd and immoral behaviour... that I have...

First Judge: ...Enough, we have heard enough! The court is convinced of your guilt. Unstrap her and bring her here that she may hear her sentence pronounced.

First Judge: (pronouncing sentence) The prisoner will kneel before the court. Dona Eleonora Ziani, you have been found guilty upon your own confession of the crime of High Treason. Your sentence reflects the dreadful nature of the crime you have committed.
You are hereby stripped of name, rank and title and your rights as a citizen. Your goods, lands and properties are forfeit to the Republic you have so wantonly betrayed.
You will be taken from this place to the scaffold in Saint Mark’s Square where all may see and learn from your disgrace.
Your nose will be pierced and ringed
You will have all the hair shaved from your head and body before being whipped, naked before the assembled crowd. The sentence is forty lashes from a cattle whip.
Finally this court sentences you to be branded as a harlot...the letter P to show you are nothing but a common prostitute, a mark you will carry for the remainder of your life.
After that, since you are no longer a citizen of the Republic, you will be sold as a common slave to the Turks...or any other stranger who may bid for your carcass.
The sentence is to be carried out without delay.
Guards, take her away...and give the bitch some clothing.

Interlude

Kept informed of the situation by one of Eleonora’s loyal servants, Prince Morozov seeks audience with the authorities and demands Eleonora’s immediate release. His request is met with harsh refusal on the grounds that the trials is complete, the prisoner has confessed and sentence is about to be carried out. Mad with rage, Prince Morozov breaks off the treaty negotiations and leaves his palace in haste, desperately trying to think of a way to save the woman he loves.

Act 3, scene 3

Master Giaccomo: Mouth open and keep on sucking the Lieutenant’s cock while I fasten this collar, you bitch.

Master Giaccomo: Go on, walk to the steps you traitorous cow

The crowd is yelling:
Death to the traitor!
Death to the filthy rich whore!
Kill her!

Master Giaccomo: Fellow citizens, hear me! This woman has betrayed our great and glorious republic. For this terrible crime she is condemned to be sold into Turkish slavery. But before then an example must be made. She is to be pierced, whipped and branded as a whore. Be assured, the bitch will scream for your enjoyment, citizens.

Master Giaccomo: Hold still, the more I stretch your nose the easier it make the job of pushing the skewer through!

Master Giaccomo: There’s a fetching piece of jewellery. Ringed like a farm beast you’re marked as a slave now.

Master Giaccomo: Stop moving your head your stupid cow...you’re messing up my work.

Master Giaccomo: No, wait Paolo, branding after the whipping...it hurts more that way! Then the burning pain will keep the bitch awake so she feel it more.

Master Giaccomo:
Citizen of Venice, gather round for this is the part you’ve been waiting for...
the scourging of the whore! And the sentence is....40 strokes!

(The crowd yells in approval and eager excitement)

Master Giaccomo:
(counting each stroke with slow deliberate care)

One...two...three...

Thirty one... thirty two....thirty three...

Master Giaccomo:
Very well Paolo, get your iron... you can brand the traitorous bitch now.

Act 3, scene 4

The Prince: (leaping onto the scaffold, he swings his sword in a slashing cut that slices Paolo’s hand at the wrist. The point threatens Master Giaccomo.) Release her at once you sadistic animal!

The Prince: (addressing the crowd) This fair lady, so brutally punished before you has been falsely accused. All you have been told is a foul lie! So she is condemned to be sold into slavery?
Then let me buy her! I offer a thousand gold ducats. A high price for such an abused lady I hear you say?
It is a price I pay willingly...but not to the scheming, evil sadists who sought to disgrace Dona Eleonora Ziani. No, I pay my gold to you, the good people of Venice.

(He throws handfuls of gold coins into the crowd who surge forwards screaming with excitement.)

In the confusion, Prince Morozov frees Eleonora, throws her onto his horse and leaps up into the saddle behind her. Together they gallop towards the frontier and safety..

The Prince: Oh my darling, what have they done to you? That horrible ring, your hair and those weals across your flesh...Venice will pay dearly for this outrage, my Lady.

Eleonora: My Lord, I am so ashamed that you see me like this. They have broken my spirit as well as scarring my flesh...I will take time to heal so be patient with me... I owe you my life and honour...Master. I shall be your slave forever. (for the first time in many days, Eleonora smiles)
But give your humble slave the time to heal, Master...thin I shall be fully yours, I promise.

The Prince: Have no fear my darling Eleonora. You will have all the time you need. But for now we must free you from those shackles and find someone to remove that ring. Once we cross the border I know where there is a blacksmith who can release you. And after that...why a hot bath to cleanse the stink of that place from your body (He grins at her). My new slave has a somewhat ripe odour I fear!

Eleonora: (rapidly recovering her spirits now she is free of the nightmare) And yet you knew that when you bid for the goods my Lord.

A month later the lovers finish the long journey to Saint Petersburg. Eleonora gradually forgets the pain and humiliation of her arrest and her torture and ill-treatment in the Venetian prison. Steadily, coaxed by the gentle and experienced ministrations of her master, she learns with increasing passion to experience the ecstasy of making love once again. Prince Morozov shows her the sights and delights of her new home, an attentive guide to the beauties of the Russian capital.

The Prince: Lady, I offer you my city, my name...and my heart. Will you accept my gifts?

Eleonora: (smiling) How can your slave possibly refuse, my Lord.

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

Comments Off

The Real Thing [THNDRSHARK]

THE REAL THING

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

The real thing
by Thndrshark. All rights reserved.

IТd lusted after her for some time. Having followed her through the small amount of modeling she had done, I had grown to be an avid fan. Not only because she was innocent and beautiful, but also because it was clear how much she loved bondage and submission. Living the life of a fetish model, I was always surprised that she complained as much to me about not being able to truly submit. Her last boyfriend was handsome for sure, but not into the УsceneФ as they say, and constantly disapproving of her work in bondage. As I grew to be her friend more and more, I tried to tell her she could find better, someone who would let her live her own life, but I think she never believed it. It was all I could do not to blurt out, УitТs me! IТll make your dreams come true!Ф But I was involved myself, in a somewhat soft relationship that had stopped fulfilling my need to truly dominate. I was ready for a change, and I hoped Sarah was, too.

---

It finally happened one Friday night. She had come up to my house for some help on the computer or something, and we got to talking. Her boyfriend was out of town, and I had finally broken it off with my girlfriend. Before long we were sitting on the couch, working our way through a second bottle of wine. I was feeling warm and good, and I could tell Sarah was equally affected. As we talked about my breakup, I used the chance to gain some sympathy. It worked. Sarah was very gentle, giving me a hug and holding my hand as I talked about how I wasnТt satisfied anymore. Sarah was always very sexual, probably a component of her personality, as well as the work she was in. She had delved into more than just bondage, I assume hoping to find the components of her life that were missing. But despite her experiences in straight adult, with either men or women, I knew she never found what she truly wanted.

УIТm not going to compromise anymore,Ф I said, feeling her large breasts pushing against my side as she comforted me. УI can be very loving, but I want someone who wants to have fun, who loves being dominated, tied up. Someone who will submit to me.Ф Her nipples jumped at that one. I decided to make the push. УI need someone like you, Sarah. Someone who enjoys being a submissive, who I can live out fantasies with, regardless of what they are.Ф She pulled back a little at that, and as I looked down at her, I could see a fleeting thought moving across her face.

УYouТll find someone,Ф she said, a little cautiously.

УI know I will. I think IТm a good catch, arenТt I?Ф She smiled, and hugged me again, making my stomach tumble.

УOf course you are!Ф

УIТm not so bad looking. And I have plenty of money. I just want someone I can spend that money on. Buy them things like custom rubber outfits, those great custom collars and cuffs, and everything else.Ф I felt those nipples again. She loved rubber, and had always fantasized about having all those things. УI can imagine having a young lady I can keep as my slave on weekends and week nights, have her sleep in rubber and chains, wear hoods. I can even bring people over to use her. There must be a girl out there who would enjoy all that!Ф This time she didnТt pull away, but pushed her breasts in to me even more. I donТt think she meant to, it was more of a subconscious move. I knew she wanted these things as well.

УSo, enough about me. HowТs it going with your boyfriend?Ф She did pull away then, only to try and hide a frown from me.

УFine,Ф she said, not very convincingly. I leaned forward and split the rest of the wine bottle with her, favoring her glass a bit. She smiled a thanks and took a sip, her thoughts distant.

УIТm sorry. Did I upset you?Ф

УNo, I was just thinkingЕФ

УWhat?Ф She was screwing up the courage for something.

УWellЕ my boyfriend is out of town for a couple weeks and I was thinkingЕФ I couldnТt stand it. I knew what she was going to say, but I had to play it cool. I decided to help her out a bit.

УYou know. I have this huge house. If you want, you can stay up with me. You know, keep me company.Ф She smiled, taking another big sip of wine.

УI was thinking something like that. I know how it can be after a breakup. ItТs hard to be alone.Ф As she looked into my eyes, her face was flush, both from wine and what I thought might be excitement as well.

УYeah. YouТre right. That would be great. Thanks.Ф

УAnd maybe, since IТm staying overЕ you could, you know, try some of your ideas on meЕФ I had to fight away the giant grin that wanted to break across my face.

УThat would be great! IТve got a bunch of new stuff I ordered in, and nobody to try it all on.Ф I knew I needed to play it cool, though. УYou sure this is ok? I mean, I donТt want to do something you donТt want to do.Ф

УOh, thatТs ok. You know IТve done a lot of stuff, both in the bondage scene as well as regular adult.Ф

УYeah, I know. But some of my ideas can be pretty crazy.Ф

УLet me make this gift to you. IТll be your slave for the next two weeks. You can do anything you want with me, ok?Ф I could tell it was hard for her to get that out. But once she did, she almost collapsed in relief.

УWow! You mean anything?Ф

УAnything. Just donТt do anything you canТt undo, or wonТt heal, ok?Ф We both chuckled at that. We had both enjoyed some wild stories together, as well as some amazing artwork. I knew what she meant when she said no permanent damage, but I also knew that she had left me with an incredibly wide range. I smiled and gave her hug, then stood up.

УOk! Wow. This is great. If weТre going to start now, I want to do it a certain way, ok?Ф Sarah nodded, then watched me disappear into another part of the house. I found the little pills I had been secretly saving for my fantasy opportunity. I had never truly expected it to come true. I came back to the living room and held out one of them.

УTake this. It will put you to sleep for about four hours. During that time, IТll make you my slavegirl, so you wake up under my control.Ф

УJust like one of those stories!Ф

УYep!Ф She looked at the pill for a brief second, then popped it into her mouth and washed it down with wine. УItТll take a couple minutes. The best part about this, Sarah, is that youТll wake up in total bondage, with no ability to escape or get free. IТve got a bunch of wild ideas that I want to do with you, some really hard bondage to try on you, and ways that me and some friends can use you sexually. ItТs going to be fun!Ф I could tell I had made her a little nervous.

УNow donТt get carried away. I thought you would just put me in rubber and keep me chained up.Ф

УNo way. If youТre going to be my slave, IТm going to show you what it means to be under my control!Ф I reached out and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back hard. She cried out, trying to push away, but the pill was beginning to take effect. Her efforts were beginning to wane.

УWait a minute! IТm not sure about this!Ф

УToo late, my slave.Ф I watched her drift off into sleep, helpless to stop her plunge into ultimate submission.

---

I watched her lying still on the floor of my spare bedroom, which I had converted to a nice dungeon a year ago. She was no longer recognizable as Sarah, instead appearing as a gleaming mass of rubber. For the years we had known each other, we had always talked about our fantasies. I knew that despite her fear as she passed out, she had always dreamed of being totally enclosed in rubber. She had also told me her darkest fantasies of being used as an object, both sexually and otherwise, at losing total control of her own life, and of being held in such utter captivity that she could never escape. Though she may have forgotten our conversations, I hadnТt, and I intended to make her dreams, or nightmares, come true.

After she had passed out, I had carried her small frame upstairs and laid her out on the cold tile of my master bath. For a moment I fought to unclip her dress, then, laughing at myself, reached for scissors and cut all her clothes off. I could feel my heart thumping hard in my chest as I admired her naked form. She was thin but shapely, a lovely frame at 5Т6Ф. Her two most admired traits were her long dark hair, reaching her waist, and her large breasts. On as small a girl as she was, her 36D breasts made quite a statement. At least they did for me!

My plans for this moment began years ago, when I began fantasizing about owning my own slave. Of course I had no idea who would be my victim at the time, but I still worked diligently to find the tools I would need. The depilatory I began to smear across her body had been a recent find. You probably heard something on the news recently. It was a super strong version of Nair or something, designed to keep hair off for as much as 3 months. I covered her body with it, starting from her neck and working down, then wiped it off with a few towels. She had already been fairly hairless, but now she was perfectly smooth. The added benefit was her skin was well oiled now as well, making stage two even easier. Before that, though, I attached a series of small electrical pads across her body. I glued several around each breast, as well as on her nipples, then moved down to her clit, the space between her ass and pussy, her pussy lips themselves and the bottom of her feet. I carefully fed the wires back to her waist and let them dangle.

The clear latex body suit was almost tiny next to her body, but I knew it would stretch as it was designed to do, and fit her body like a glove. I worked it up her legs, but once I had her feet covered, I made sure the latex was tucked between her toes, then used electrical tape to wrap them up. The final result gave her feet a snub nose look. I then added a simple device to the mix: hard plastic sheaths on the top of her feet. The plastic extended from her lower calf to just before her toes. More tape held it into place and the result pushed her foot into an en pointe position. After finishing the other foot, I returned to stretching the rubber up her body. After almost an hour, and considerable amounts of sweat on my part, I pulled the high collar around her neck. The back zipped up with more effort, but what remained was a perfect body covered in tight, thin, nearly clear latex. I had made sure there were inserts for her breasts, to avoid the usual crush that occurs from tight latex, and IТm glad I did. The base of her breasts were circled by thicker rings of rubber, and she filled out the inserts perfectly. The tight rings actually made her breasts stand out even more, actually, an effect I liked. As I rolled her onto her front, I admired how the rubber literally clung to her ass, finding its way between her cheeks. Her crotch remained uncovered, a special gap designed into the outfit for just that reason. With her hands in the latex gloves, I folded her fingers around a soft ball, then used the electrical tape to lock them in that position.

I spent a few minutes braiding her hair into a tight ponytail, including a leather strap into the mix, which extended beyond her own hair. I had plans for that later. Next I fit small stoppers with tubes extending out of them into her nose to keep her breathing, and then applied a catheter as well. I then fit a long line corset around her waist. The heavy leather item was designed to extend from just below her breasts to her upper hips, while constricting her waist to a mere 18 inches. Another fantasy for Sarah, though as I tugged and strained to close the corset, I was sure she would learn to regret it. Tightening the last inch, I was worried IТd break a rib. Her uncorsetted measurement was 24 inches, but she usually laced down to 20 inches with ease. Though that final 2 inches didnТt seem like much, it would certainly take her breath away. I had laced the corset with leather thongs, which had been soaking in salt water. I knew I would never get the back closed completely but, once dressed, her body heat would dry the leather, which would naturally shrink, finishing the job for me.

The second, heavier suit was easier to fit on, once I greased up the clear suit. This much thicker, black rubber layer had been designed for her shape now, that is 36B-18-32, with feet in ballet stance. Now, as the feet were covered with the black rubber, her feet remained en pointe, and any evidence of her toes was gone. The rest of the suit was similar to the clear suit, including the breast rings and inserts. Once on, despite the constriction of two heavy rubber suits on her body, her breasts would remain a quite enjoyable feature. Her rubber covered arms slid into the secondary sleeves, and her balled hands fit into the ends. Like little draw-string sacks, her hands fit into the ends of the sleeves, with a slightly smaller wrist band locking the hands firmly into place. Now, her hands ended in nubs of rubber. The high, thick collar would help hold her more immobile, while merging with the hoods as well. The back zipped up as well, but the zipper was covered by a thin flap, which I glued in place with rubber cement. The result was a nearly seamless form. My final work on the suit was between her legs. Instead of the opening on the other suit, this one had a small hole for her catheter, and rubber inserts for her pussy and ass. I took one of them, turned it inside out like a sock, and lubricated the inside. Then, with the help of a dildo, I pushed the four inch sleeve into her pussy, until it coated her vaginal walls part way up with rubber. Her ass was similar, though the much shorter sleeve ended in an inflatable ring. Once I had gotten the short sleeve inside her ass, I attached an inflator bulb to one of two attachments, and pumped it up. The ring expanded, locking itself into place, sealing off her ass. Just for fun, I attached the inflator to the second attachment and pumped the bulb. This blew up a secondary bladder, which stretched the ring, prying her ass open wider and wider. I was glad she was still unconscious. Without a hood she would have been screaming bloody murder as the ring forced her ass open wider than an anal speculum could. I let out the air again and got back to work.

I had left the collar unzipped, so I could fit the hoods underneath it as well. Again, my research paid off. Small, radio controlled hearing aid devices slipped deep into her ear canal, and wax plugs held them in place, while sealing off any unwanted sound. With spirit glue, I affixed soft eye pads over her eyes as well. Lastly, I fit a type of ring gag behind her front teeth, wedging her mouth open wide. I had been around Sarah at shoots enough to know that the combination of a ring gag and rubber hood would create a painful ache within minutes. I intended to keep her like this for much longer than that.

The first hood was transparent as well, but with no eye holes. Her ponytail escaped out a hole at the top. The second hood was a much thicker leather hood, that laced snug and, with padded ear pieces, helped prevent sound from sneaking in. Again, I fed her hair out a top hole. There was a series of straps around this hood, which I cinched as tight as I could get them, making sure their was no pinching, but ensure that the hood was skin tight. The goal was to increase the claustrophobia by adding pressure on the head. Once everything was tight, I fit the final hood over the top. This Љ inch rubber hood had a tiny sphincter of a hole at the top, designed for her ponytail. The mouth was a molded hole with a insert piece that surrounded the ring gag, holding it into place. It gave her featureless face a strange, open mouth expression. The rest of the hood had to be stretched a bit to fit, increasing the pressure on the inner hoods, but eventually I had it sealed in back. It also used a combination of a zipper and glued panel. The hood itself extended over her neck as well, then was covered by the outer suit. I added a healthy layer of rubber cement on the inside of the suit collar, ensuring a strong bond between hood and suit.

It had been 3 љ hours since she had taken the knock out pill. I figured I had between half an hour and an hour. I quickly pulled on the custom ballet style boots on her feet. The rubber shoes were unique in that they had no heel. SarahТs en pointe feet fit into the ends snuggly, then the firm rubber boot top fit over her calf, ending just below the knee. Again, rubber cement held it together, locking the boots onto her feet. Finally, I rolled her back over and pulled her arms behind her. I had seen her keep her arms bound behind her, with elbows touching, for as long as three hours on a shoot. She always boasted that she could stay bound like that for an indefinite length. I figured IТd start that way and give her a break now and then. Since she was buried behind two layers of rubber, there would be no way of me telling if her circulation was ok. But for now, I used rubber straps to wrench her arms together hard, including an added strap around her upper arms, pulling her shoulders back as far as they would go. As a final touch, I strapped her arms to her body, removing any ability to move them.

I could tell she was almost awake, probably wondering where she was. Without any senses, or any way to feel the outside world, she would be pretty confused at first. I sat back in the large soft chair I had in the corner, watching her. I was so excited, just watching the latex enclosed shape beginning to writhe on the floor. I had added a wide steel collar and steel ankle cuffs joined by a short length of chain, with a second chain pulling her ankles toward her wrists. The jingling that rose each time she moved made me even more excited. Before sitting down, I had inserted inflatable dildos in her pussy, ass and mouth, making sure they were inflated large. I waited until I was sure she was awake, then lifted the small transmitter to my mouth, flicking the button that activated the hearing aids. The sound, I was sure, was a shock to her.

УWelcome back, slave. As you can probably tell, I have enclosed you in several layers of latex. You look incredibly sexy, I might add.Ф I continued to describe her situation in careful detail. I could hear the subtlest grunting as she learned about her en pointe feet, heavily constricted waist and the general state of helplessness she was in.

УAnd by the way, Sarah, I donТt think weТll limit this situation to just two weeks. I plan to keep you as my slave indefinitely.Ф I definitely could hear the wail that escaped from behind her inflatable gag that time. УSo, just to get things started, letТs see how well I can torture those lovely tits of yours.Ф I shut off the earpieces, then grabbed her by the ponytail, dragging her body under the suspension cable. With a quick knot I tied off the strap in her hair to the hook, then grabbed the winch remote. In seconds, she was slowly lifted up to her knees then, since her ankles were chained to her wrists, her body rose off the ground. The pain was probably intense on her scalp as the entire weight of her body now hung on the ponytail. The sounds of muffled screams escaped her gag again. I was enjoying it, but I knew her hair wouldnТt hold her forever. I raised her high enough so her legs couldnТt touch the ground when extended, then stopped. A quick release of the chain holding her ankles up dropped her legs. The jolt added to the pain, and her toes struggled to find the ground. I lowered her back down so the weight rested on her ballet toes, then attached the chain to a ring beneath her feet. I left it slightly loose. Now her choice was to hang from her hair or stand on her toes. At this point, she chose her feet, since the pain hadnТt built up in her toes yet. But with the extreme point of her feet, and the pain her toes would experience supporting her body, I knew she would soon be dancing between the lesser evil soon.

For a moment I just enjoyed the site. The tight latex molded to every curve of her already impressive body, the latex even slipping between her ass cheeks, giving them a wonderful, gleaming quality. The best part of stretching the rubber suits so tight over her, was that I could see every muscle of her body through the rubber. Her pointed feet gave her calves and thighs a sexy flexed look. I knew that would equal cramping soon, another element she would have to endure for a long time. The inflation bulbs dangling between her legs led the eyes right up to her molded pussy and ass. I couldnТt wait to use those, but all in good time. Unlike typical latex bodysuits, both the inner and outer layer were designed to not only allow her breasts to retain their shape, but to press them out from her body via the thicker yet smaller rings at the base. Though it wasnТt apparent, the rubber now stretching over her breasts was thinner than the rest of the suits. I could see her nipples clearly, and despite her pain and fear, they were hard. The sharp contrast between her now bulbous breasts and her restricted waist was probably the most exhilarating element of her current outfit. I was sure the leather laces had begun drying, and thus the corset was slowly closing even more. The amazing hourglass shape she already had was like from a cartoon. I was sure that despite her torture, the image of that tiny waist would excite even Sarah.

I decided to give her a few minutes while I setup my strobe lights for a quick shoot. I couldnТt let this one get by without some pictures for posterity. I particularly loved the way the multiple hoods, though providing a thick layer over her entire head, were so tight that despite the leather and rubber layers, still gave a subtle impression of her face. It was ghostly and exciting to see a smooth head without any evidence of ears, though. After a half hour of snapping angles, I put the equipment away and returned my attention to Sarah. Without sight, sound or touch, I was certain she felt she had been left alone for hours. ThatТs the best thing about sensory deprivation. You have no ability to judge time. I figured this would be a great tool to use over the next week, as I went about trying to break her spirit. I really didnТt intend on keeping her more than the 2 weeks. I wasnТt crazy. But I was going to do everything in my power to ensure that when I released her, she wouldnТt want to leave.

I selected a tray of long, sharp needles and rolled them close to her. My stool put me at perfect height to her breasts. Selecting one, I pressed it against her hard nipple and began to press. The rubber provided resistance, but with a firm pressure, it soon broke through the two thin layers and began to pierce her flesh. A howl burst from her throat and she bucked like crazy. I knew that she had toyed with the idea of getting her nipples pierced, and we had even talked about doing a scene and shooting it. But I donТt think she realized just what it would feel like. I struggled to get it through her left nipple, then left it in and reached for the winch control. With a few taps, I removed the slack and stretched her a bit between her feet and ponytail. She moaned through the gag as the tension on her hair increased, but I planned to give her another distraction. The second skewer was easier to push through for some reason, and soon she had one through each nipple, at the base. Despite her immobility, I could tell she was crying. I reached up and checked the nose tubes, making sure they were still taking air. I had made sure they were long enough to reach into her throat, hoping to avoid complications with her sinuses, as her nose began to run from crying. It seemed to be working. I moved back to her nipples. I carefully pulled out the left skewer until the tip was just coming out the exit side, then slipped a flat metal nipple shield down the length of the skewer and around the point. As I pressed the shield in with one hand, I chose a rod and matched it to the sharp end of the skewer, then pushed it back through. Soon, the rod was through her nipple and I dropped the skewer back onto the tray. A D-ring I had made fit over the ends of the rod, clicking in tight so the wider steel of the D-ring squeezed her nipple, before locking into place. The effect was great. The nipple shield pressed against her breast, cupping the area behind the nipple, while stretching the latex tight. The D-ring held the shield in place. It looked awesome. With the concept proved, I finished her right nipple the same way, then sat back and admired the view. The shiny stainless steel set against the shiny black latex looked so hot, and the D-rings would prove quite useful in the future.

I took another needle and placed it about a 1/3 of the way from the tip of her left nipple, but at the bottom. Again I gave it a firm shove and the skewer punctured the rubber and quickly cut through her flesh. Despite the tension between her ponytail and her chained ankles, her body was quivering. A low moan sounded from her rubber encased throat. I could tell she was in considerable pain. The rod I selected was something I again had come up with a few years ago, but had no one to try it on. The rather thick metal was capped with a rounded end cap, designed to conform to the shape of a womanТs nipple. The other end had threads. I placed the threaded end against the sharp end of the skewer, then slowly retracted it, guiding the thick rod into her nipple. As I pulled away the skewer and dropped its slightly bloody tip on the tray, I grabbed the other end of the rod. This consisted of small ball and a bell dangling from a free joint. Once screwed on tightly, the bell would hand below her nipple, and each move would make a nice jingling sound. The whole point of these piercings were not just for functionality, but also to add to her humiliation. Considering she was completely deprived of senses now, it didnТt work to that end. But later, it would.

Once I finished both nipples, I moved to her nose. I had dreamed all my life about owning a beautiful slave with a nice ring through her septum. The idea of a nose ring was so submissive that I just had to have it. The stoppers that held her breathing tubes in were pushed high enough into her nostrils that I could easily access her septum without removing them. I used a type of hole punch for this, fitting it carefully into the cartilage to make a secure and somewhat useable ring when I was done. Unlike the nipple rings, which Sarah had no tactile forewarning of, she could now feel the metal tool grasping her septum. She probably knew I was about to pierce her there, but wasnТt really able to resist. I held the punch there for a minute, enjoying her efforts to struggle. Her newly belled nipples rang slightly with each movement, but the effect was negligible. Without warning, I quickly squeezed the tool together, punching a clean, 1/8 inch hole through her septum.

Two things surprised me. First, there was more blood than I expected. It wasnТt a flow, but there was more to the septum than just cartilage. I packed it for a minute, and it soon stopped, or at least slowed to almost nothing. The second thing was the scream. You would have thought Sarah wasnТt gagged at all! It was a blood curdling scream that would have woken the dead. I couldnТt imagine what it would have sounded like without the gag. It ended abruptly, which led me to believe she had passed out. I could tell she was slightly slumped, despite the tension, and now her body was really supported by her hair. I figured it would be ok and finished my work. First, I disinfected the hole, then took the 1/8 inch grommet I had made from surgical steel and coated the insides with a disinfectant cream. The piece came apart in two, which I fit from either nostril, clicking it together to form a small steel sheath. I then simply fit a ring into the grommet, letting it dangle. I selected a large one, which would have come down to touch her upper lip, if you could see her lips. It didnТt serve any purpose now but to give me the biggest hard-on yet!

I took the time while she was unconscious to lower her down, then reposition her. I fit a wide bondage belt around her tiny waist, then untied her elbows to give them a chance to rest. While I waited, I put spreader bars between her ankles and knees, then added another bar from her knee bar to the front of her collar. The result would hold her body in a 90 degree, bent over position, with little ability, once I was done, to move. I figured a good half an hour would be enough to let the blood back into her arms, and I sat in my chair. I still couldnТt believe she was mine for a whole two weeks! It had only been 5 hours since she gave herself to me, but I had savored every moment.

I could tell she was awake again. Though her wrists were still strapped together, she had discovered her elbows were free, and she tried to move them around. After a moment, I got back up and laced a strap around her arms, just above the elbows, and cinched her arms back together again. Lying on her side, the action made her back arch and her breasts shove out, jingling the bells that now seem to be twisting her tortured nipples to the side. Too bad for gravity. I was sure it wasnТt pleasant. After tying the strap off, and ensuring her shoulders were pulled back uncomfortably, I lowered the hook from the winch to connect to her wrists. Before I cranked her up, I added a chain from her wrist cuffs to the bondage belt. It was long enough that I could raise her arms away from her body enough to really put her in an extreme strapado position, but not enough to dislocate her shoulders. I returned to the control and hit the button, and the winch began pulling her up off the floor. I stopped her once she was upright, then got down near her feet. One of the cool features of her ballet boots was these small mounting bars at had built in at the very tip. You donТt really notice them, but they come in handy for just this occasion. I put a small D-ring through the bars, then attached chains from it to rings in the floor beneath her toes. I returned to the winch and clicked it back on. Fairly quickly she was off the ground, and the chains pulled taught, holding her toes off the ground by about 4 inches. I nudged the winch a few times until her body was pulled taught between the toe chains and her wrists. The best part was that the added tension on the end of her shoes would increase the cramps in her calves and thighs ten-fold.

The strap still laced in her ponytail fed through a ring in her bondage belt, and I pulled back hard, forcing her neck to bend despite the thick latex, until her face pointed directly horizontal to the floor. Short chains were attached from her new nipple rings to two rings set wide on either side of her, in the floor. I didnТt pull them incredibly taught, but kept them snug. The goal would be to limit her squirming. The only way she could move now was to pivot on her wrists, but with these chains, she would pull hard on her new nipple rings, something she would certainly find a painful alternative. I then deflated her gag and pulled it out. She was moaning, IТm sure in pain, but couldnТt do much other than move her tongue around and try to speak. I reached into her mouth and fit a rubber stopper at the back of her throat. It was pretty much what it sounds like; a rubber stopper big enough to clog her throat, fitting behind her back teeth. She panicked briefly, unable to breath any longer through her mouth, but soon learned to trust her nose tubes. I ignored her, moving to her crotch, where I removed the inflatable dildos there as well. With the rubber sheaths, she looked like a bizarre sex doll, her ass and pussy the same gleaming latex of the rest of her.

In the closet, I wheeled out another set of cool toys I had been saving. The piston-like devices were fitted with soft, life-like dildos, including floppy balls, a touch I was delighted to discover. The more real, the better. Each also had a hole at the end, fed by a main pump from a large gallon receptacle on the computer stand. I had mixed up a nice concoction of egg whites, mayonnaise and salt water, which looked, and IТm told tasted, a lot like a manТs cum.

There were three of the motor-pistons, and IТm guessing you can figure out where I put them. All were placed at the back of their strokes, then positioned just at the opening. Not touching, but as close as I could get them. I used a long lasting lubricant on all of them, knowing I would have to replenish them from time to time. The motors connected to a computer, and I started up the program that controlled them. I had modified a home security and control program to include not only control over the dildo machines, but also to provide an audio feed. The goal would be to feed her not only fake sounds of men coming for the gangbang, but also to give her some subtle, almost subliminal suggestions when she wasnТt being fucked. The computer also attached to her electrode wires, that dangled beside her catheter hose. I put a bag on this and unclamped the hose. A stream of piss ran into the bag immediately, but stopped short of Љ full. IТd change it later. I was about ready for stage two, but first rolled out one more machine. The medical ventilator connected to her nose tubes, but I left the circuit dead for now, so she could breath on her own. Finally ready, I flicked on the ear pieces.

УWell, Sarah, IТve got you set for your next adventure. For the next two months, IТm going to parade a long line of men who have paid to use you as a fuck toy. As you might be able to tell, you are suspended just off the ground, in a bent over, leg spread position that provides easy access to your mouth, ass and pussy.Ф I moved behind her and attached the inflation bulb to her outer anal ring bladder. Slowly, I began squeezing the bulb. УSome of the guys are rather large, and though your mouth and pussy can probably take it, IТve decided to help your ass out some.Ф As the bladder got large enough to begin stretching open her sphincter, she cried out in pain. Her first reaction was to try and twist away, but she quickly discovered the nipple chains. Her body froze, and low moans escaped her throat as she tried to endure the stretching.

УIТll make it so your ass is held open for someone my size, which I hate to admit, is somewhat average. The big guys will still have to push hard, but itТs a start.Ф I decided to have some fun of my own, pushing the dildo machines out of the way and greasing up my own rock hard cock. The height was perfect for me, as I fit the head against her stretched anal ring, and gave a shove. She cried out as my cock entered her ass, and I quickly began pumping. It was an amazing feeling. My hands rested on her latex clad ass, then slipped down to her constricted waist. Though she was pulled tight, my pumping still rocked her a bit, and she screamed as the chains to her nipple rings began yanking on her nipples. It was too much for me, seeing this beautiful woman controlled and tortured by me. I pulled out before it was too late, and moved to her mouth. Again, the ring was large enough to allow my cock to slip in, and I shoved it in as far as I could go. I had left the microphone on, so she got to hear me fucking her. Now, I lifted it to my mouth and spoke ominously.

УIТm going to plug your nose tubes, so you canТt breath. I want you to make me come with your tongue. And you better hurry, or you wonТt be breathing!Ф I reached up and pinched her nostril tubes together, cutting of airflow. For a second nothing happened, but soon she began to struggle for air, and her tongue leapt into action. I was sure my cock tasted of her own ass, but she made a valiant effort to ignore that as she flicked and stroked my member. It didnТt take long, largely because of the vision before me, and I could feel my orgasm rising. I pulled out slightly, letting go of her breathing tubes, while shooting my load onto her tongue. I wanted her to taste my cum.

I enjoyed that for a minute, then pulled out. What an amazing gift. I figured IТd keep her like this for at least 5 days, knocking her out once a day with gas through her breathing tubes to give her a rest. She would never know, and with my setup would think she was truly being held like this for a long time. Before I finished, I clicked on the ventilator, and removed the bypass. She screamed in fear as she lost control of her breathing.

УOk, Sarah. YouТre all set. You now no longer have any control of your body. The ventilator will do your breathing, and a computer will monitor your vital signs, while providing a few other surprises from time to time. The only rule is that they come in your ass or mouth, so get used to the taste of cum. I hope you enjoy being a fuck toy. YouТll be here for quite some time!Ф I made sure the audio program was running, and clicked the control over to the computer. She wouldnТt notice I had switched anything. I quickly set the dildos back into place, making sure they were locked down and not in danger of moving. She could no longer hear anything but what the computer fed her, and if I remembered correctly, she wouldnТt hear anything at all for at least an hour. I setup my camera gear, took a bunch of pictures, then went downstairs for lunch.

The program was designed not only to repeatedly fuck her, but to also fuck with her mind. The audio tracks it used sometimes had time references in them, all giving her a false sense of time passage. With no senses, or ability to judge time at all, her mind would rely on the little clues given to her by the voices. Left alone in total silence for even 10 minutes, she could be easily made to believe it had been 10 hours. By the end of the third day, she was led to believe she had been in her current situation for a month. While her head tried to deal with the concept of being in such helpless and horrible captivity, the program also fed her a series of quiet whispers, almost inaudible suggestions that she is, and always will be my slave, that she wants nothing more than to be a slut, my slut, and to be bound and tortured by me forever. That was the most devious part of my plan. I knew it was a form of brainwashing, but I also knew that she had wanted this as well, despite what she might think now.

I decided to give her two breaks a day, not wanting to damage her arms and concerned she might be reacting adversely to the long term rubber bondage. She seemed to be handling it well. At one point I even partially undressed her, making sure her arms were not purple. Surprisingly, they were fine. She never had a clue she was released. To her, the periods of unconsciousness were undetectable. I spent the most time cleaning up the simulated cum that dripped from her constantly full mouth, as well as her ass and pussy. It was interesting to see how much her ass could hold, but it was a pain to clean up. I also gave her an enema and douche during these periods, keeping her as fresh as possible.

---

The night of the third day, I subtly transitioned from the program audio back to the live mic.

УItТs been a long time since weТve spoken, Sarah. I thought you might like to know that youТve been my sex toy for over a month now. YouТre quite popular, and have made me a ton of money. IТve decided to keep you like this for at least another two months. Have fun!Ф I clicked back to the program again, listened to her wailing for a few minutes, then left her as the sounds of two more guys rose from the computer, and the anal and oral dildos moved into action.

---

On the morning of the sixth day, I put her to sleep again, then released her from the bondage. I had to remove her nipple and nose rings to get the rubber off, but put them right back on afterwards. I put her in the bathtub and cleaned her completely, noting that the depilatory was working great, before preparing her for the next phase. I kept her naked, redoing her ponytail so it was at the back of her head rather than on top. I left her toes taped but fit her with a smaller version of the same ballet boot. This one was only ankle high, but molded her feet into a sharp point at the end. As she stood on them, her toes would be forced into the point, causing her great pain. I intended to have her walking in them by the end of the week.

Much like before, her hands were taped around a soft ball, then short ball gloves were stretched over her fists, leaving stumps once again. I fit my newest acquisition, seamless two inch cuffs around her wrists, then locked them together. The cuffs used a special tool that screwed a rivet into the end, locking them into place with no visible means of removing them, except a tiny hole on the edge. The psychological effect would be amazing! I added similar cuffs above her elbows, then forced them together so they locked in place, then added ankle cuffs, separated by a four inch chain, and a three inch seamless collar snuggly around her neck.

Turning to her waist, I slipped a shorter corset around her. It wasnТt just a waist cincher, but didnТt reach her breasts. The closed size was 16 inches. I never imagined I could get it close to that, but I laced it to a snug 19 inches and left the gap. Call it wishful thinking.

I fit her pussy and ass with inflatable dildos again, using a thin rubber g-string harness to hold them in place. The strip separated in the front, splitting to display her clit, then rose up to connect to either side of her corset. The back simply went straight to it. I added a large ball gag, prying her already sore mouth wider.

I lifted her up and carried her back to the dungeon, then fit her into the tiny steel cage. It only measured three by four feet, with thick steel bars all around. I had to push her back down to get the top to close, which kind of contorted her into the square shape. I added a fairly heavy piece of chain from her nose ring to the lower, front edge of the cage, which ended up helping. After the long steel bar, which held it shut, was slipped down the length and locked off, I set about cleaning up, putting away the computer and dildo machines. She began waking up about 45minutes later, and by that time there wasnТt any evidence of her previous predicament.

I simply sat and watched her wakeup. It took her about ten minutes to adjust to the light and appreciate her situation. Her first instinct was to sit up, but the bars stopped her body and the sharp tug on her nose ring made her cry out from behind the gag. She was a bit wild eyed as she carefully felt around the cage. I simply watched her, enjoying the sight.

УWelcome back, slave,Ф I said. She turned to find me across the room. УIТm sorry I lied to you, and kept you for so long. You see, IТve always dreamed about making you my slave, and to be honest, you have always told me how much you wanted something like this. Well, consider your dreams coming true.Ф I stepped up, walking over to her. She cried to crane her neck, but the nose ring prevented her, and I could see that the humiliation of being controlled by it was making tears well up in her eyes.

УAfter three months as a fuck toy, IТve realized how much fun you could be as my slave. So, IТm going to give you an option. You can chose to commit your life to me as my total and complete slave, or I can sell you to a buyer in Mexico, who will probably use you as a slave/prostitute.Ф I could see how fearful she was of Mexico, so I took it to the next step. УNow donТt jump to conclusions that life with me will be easier. Though being used by strangers in another country sounds bad, if you decide to stay with me, I wonТt make your life easy. Not only will you learn to become a totally obedient and willing sex toy, I plan to discover new and interesting ways to cause you great pain. I might permanently remove all your hair, teach you to be my toilet, augment your body with a lot more piercings, and even continue reducing your waist while expanding your breast size. You and I have always liked that artist who has the girls with impossibly huge tits, with rings everywhere, covered in cum. I might do that to you as well. The promise IТll make you is this, if you go to Mexico, they may decide to torture you do death. It wouldnТt be pleasant at all, might take a month, and would be horrible. I too may decide that your death pleases me, but I promise to make it quick. So you have a decision to make. IТll leave you alone for awhile.Ф I hefted one of six Љ inch steel plates, sliding the first into the end slots just outside the bars. They had been designed to seal off the inside of the cage. They did the job. As I began to fit the last panel, at the head end of the cage, I looked down to Sarah once more.

УIТll give you a day to think about it.Ф Her look of terror made me smile as I lowered the panel, locking her into a tiny steel box. IТd made sure to turn up the heat in the dungeon, so within an hour, Sarah was probably boiling in her dark tomb. There werenТt any breathing holes, but air could easily get into the thin seams around the metal plates. The air would get stuffy, but she would be fine. It was the psychological effect of being in total darkness, chained by the nose in a cramped space. I figured that 24 hours like that and she would be ready to do anything for me.

---

At the end of two weeks, almost to the hour, I was sitting on my couch watching some football game. SarahТs face was buried in my crotch as she worked to give me the fifth blowjob of the afternoon. I had used a head harness to strap her face to my cock. Rubber wedges held her mouth wide, and the straps circled my waist, with another strap extending from her collar, between my legs to the back. The result was her lips planted firmly against my skin, with my cock resting on her tongue. She was blindfolded, so I wouldnТt have to see her pained eyes, and she was bound just like she was 5 days ago in the cage. She had been in this position two other times this week, knowing that she had a total of three hours to bring me to five or more orgasms. If she failed, she would be caned. If she succeeded, she would be rewarded by a night with a vibrator strapped to her clit. This was a bit of a dubious award. The first time she had experienced the vibrator all night she had enjoyed it for about an hour. But after her second orgasm, she wanted it to stop. I set it up on a timer, so it would come on and off randomly. By the third hour she was crying, the pain of the stimulus on her clit too much. I had hooded her that night, with an inflatable gag in her mouth, just to help her focus. Eight hours later, when I unplugged the vibrator and pulled off the hood, she was hysterical. It was then that I pierced her clit. I figured it was a good opportunity. Call me an opportunist. She barely felt it, but I could see the humiliation on her tear and sweat streaked face. The first two times, she had failed to bring me to more than four orgasms, probably thinking the torture of the vibrator was far worse than a caning. I made her think otherwise. The first time, I caned the back of her thighs and calves. The best part of that is the pain is tremendous, especially when she is pulled taught by the winch. After 50 strokes, Ileft her slumped, wailing in pain. The second time I think she was undecided, and her lack of focus made her fail. I hung her upside down that time and caned the bottom of her tits. She passed out after 15 strokes, but I used smelling salts and continued. Now, the third time strapped to my cock, she was making a concerted effort to finish the job. I didnТt make it easy. Watching football, it was easy to let myself get distracted. My cock would fall flat after I came the third time, and I intentionally focused on the game despite the fact that her tongue was swirling and rubbing against me. With an hour left, I finally couldnТt help myself. My cock grew hard again, pushing down her throat, and she began working it in earnest. I could tell she was determined to finish.

With the last orgasm just before the deadline, I slowly unstrapped her and sat her upright. She was out of breath from the ordeal, but she sat quietly. Her mouth still wedged open by the rubber stoppers, she looked like a big mouth bass sitting there. I reluctantly got up and retrieved another of the familiar pills, then returned to her.

УSwallow this,Ф I said, placing the small tablet on her tongue. She obeyed quickly, taking it in with her tongue and forcing it down her throat. She had become quite good at swallowing despite her wide open mouth. After a few minutes, she slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Four hours later, I sat on the couch with her head on my lap. She was dressed in normal clothes again, with no evidence of her ordeal visible. I had left in the grommet in her nose, and fitted small rods through her piercings, just in case. She still had cane marks on her breasts and the back of her legs, but they were under her dress now. I was actually nervous, watching her wake up. The time of night was the same as two weeks previous, and I had made sure she was wearing the same clothes, and even the same wine glasses were set out.

Finally, her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment she registered confused shock. She sat up quickly, turning toward me. I simply smiled at her.

УAre you ok, Sarah,Ф I asked. She looked at her body, then tentatively reached up to her breasts. Touching her nipples, she could feel the small rods in there. With that, the experience came rushing back.

УWhat happened,Ф she asked, confused.

УThe two weeks are up.Ф

УTwo weeks? Is that all? IЕ IТm confused.Ф I reached out and took her hand.

УCome here.Ф I tried to suppress a smile when she slipped to her knees in front of me. I think it confused her as well. I ignored it, as if it were normal, and looked her in the eye. УI know it feels like it was much longer, but itТs only been the two weeks we agreed to.Ф

УDid youЕ do all those things to me?Ф

УMost of what you remember was done to you. But nobody but myself ever touched or used you, and you were never in any danger.Ф Again her hands rose up her body, this time touching her nose, and finding the grommet in her septum. УDid you like what was done to you?Ф Her answer was slow in coming, but quietly absolute.

УYes,Ф she nearly whispered, lowering her eyes in embarrassment.

УI simply made some of your and my fantasies come true, Sarah. ThatТs all. Do you remember any of it?Ф

УI remember being wrapped in heavy rubber, being used by what seemed like hundreds of men, being totally controlled like an object.Ф As she spoke, her hand dropped down to her crotch, rubbing. Only when she felt the small rod through her clit did she stop. УI remember wanting to be your slave, wanting you to do more things to meЕФ I touched her chin, lifting it up so her eyes met mine.

УDo you want to really be my slave?Ф This time she didnТt speak, but nodded her head slightly, then lowered her head in shame again. Her hands had returned to her crotch. УYou can think about it, Sarah. I just want you to know that you have always been my fantasy. To own you has always been my ultimate goal. But if you are to be mine, you have to take care of some things, so there arenТt any complications.Ф

She nodded again, understanding.

---

It had been three years since Sarah had given herself to me officially. I had never had a better time in my life. IТm not sure if she would say the same, but once she came back, and took another of the knockout pills, she had no choice. I never gave her one. It had taken almost six months to get her accustomed to walking in her special ballet shoes. Now, they never came off. As we walked into the private party, I tugged on the leash attached to her clit ring. She was a vision of pain and submission now. I had placed permanent rings in her nipples, and the bells back near the tip. The nose ring was back, and she now had sixteen rings that circled her upper and lower lips. Her tongue was ringed as well, both at the tip as well as down the sides, a row of four piercings on either side. I had also run a rod through the top of her tongue and down through the bottom of her mouth. Both ends ended in small, circular plates, so it looked like she had a small round disc glued under her chin, while the plate on her tongue indented enough that it didnТt cause any problems with scraping a cock. The result, however, was to lock down her tongue fairly well, removing her ability to talk even when not gagged. What little she could move her tongue was affected by all the rings around the edges and the larger one at the tip. She had become essentially mute.

I led her into the room, hearing the customary awed response from the crowd. Sarah was fairly impressive, with her large breasts and now 18 inch waist, standing on her toes. I had also trained her wrists to flex up her back, and a year ago had locked them off to the back of her collar. Eventually, I was also able to pull her elbows together. The result was an amazing image of an unobstructed waist, constricted by a corset, and a chest pushed out by the arch of her back the arm bondage caused. Even at the 5Т10Ф she now stood from her toe stance, she looked like a captured Amazon. Her hair was back in a ponytail, and I usually liked to lace it to her corset, pulling her head back so she had to face the ceiling. She was most humiliated by that, since she couldnТt see the people staring at her. I guess it made her feel incredibly exposed.

Everything I did now for her was an effort to increase her humiliation. Leading her in by her clit ring was one of my favorites, as was the colostomy bag strapped to her right thigh, half full of urine from her bladder. The sound of more liquid trickling into the bag always brought the red flush of embarrassment to her face. She hated that she didnТt even have control of this function. Sometimes I would hang a large enema bag, filled with soapy water, to her elbow bondage, with a tube joining her inflatable butt plug. In the middle of a party, I would release the clamp holding the water in the bag, watching her flush again as her ass was filled. I could often get tears of humiliation from that, especially at the more formal parties.

I quickly realized that owning my own slave was an automatic card into the more elite group of dominants in the city. Before, I could get into some decent play parties, but it was fairly clear that though there were some great submissives there, they rarely actually lived the lifestyle at all times. By accident, I managed to get invited to a very private club two years ago. I was encouraged to bring my slave. I had heard about the group a few weeks prior, learning how they enjoyed the more severe and extreme forms of submission. I had no idea if they were serious, but I figured IТd make a splash anyway. With the party on a Saturday night, I fit Sarah in her two layer rubber outfit on the Monday before. Making sure she was fully tubed for breathing and waste, I plugged her ears with wax and fit her again with the hoods. This time I used a leather hood with a massive rubber gag that had to be stuffed into her mouth, then strapped on. Thus, the outer rubber hood had no mouth hole. Only small nostril holes for her breathing tubes.

I plugged her ass and pussy again, then folded her into a small rubber lined, wood box I had built. She fit best in a tight hogtie, with her neck held rigid by a heavy posture collar. I mixed up a huge container of plaster of Paris, then poured it into the box until Sarah was completely covered and the plaster brimmed over the top of the box. With her breathing tubes fed through gasketed holes in the box, she would be able to breath, but essentially nothing else. I let the plaster set for a bit, then screwed the top of the box on. Using a series of heavy shipping straps, I made sure it was secure, then filled out the note I would include.

УA little gift until the party. Do as you see fit. IТll happily pick her up that night.Ф I signed it and tucked the note into an envelope.

I stepped out of the limo and adjusted my tuxedo. It had been strange to not have Sarah around for the week. After the shipping company had picked up the crate on Monday, I had trouble filling my time. I was so accustomed to having her around for either sexual pleasure or for some good olТ torture. I had put her on the slow boat, considering the crate only had to travel across town. This left her packed in her rubber and plaster tomb for 3 days, arriving by Thursday morning. To her, it must have seemed like a year. That long without any sensory input had to be hard. I wondered what my host had chosen to do with her. I imagined a long list of wild ideas that I would try in the same situation. I found my cock rising just with the thought.

A maid answered the door. She was clad in total rubber, except for her head. A huge red ball gag filled her mouth, with a large nose ring dangling down to touch it. She, too was walking in ballet shoes, though these had traditional heels. Her elbows were bound together behind her, with one wrist locked down to the back of her dildo harness, and the other free to pull open the door. I smiled at her, mostly in lust, and walked into the house.

I could only see a few guests, but the house was clearly massive and could easily hide a hundred people. Before I could wonder what to do next, a distinguished man approached me with a smile, extending his hand.

УYou must be John,Ф he said, shaking my hand vigorously. УItТs a pleasure. IТm James, your host.Ф

УVery pleased to meet you, James,Ф I said, smiling back.

УI have to say, you certainly know how to make a statement. IТve never had a new member provide such a lovely gift even prior to ever meeting me.Ф

УSo you got the package?Ф

УOh, yes. And weТve had a splendid time with her. Your note wasnТt very specific about what we could and could not do with her. I assumed that would give us fairly full reign. We kept it simple, but wanted to have some fun. Follow me and IТll show you to her.Ф

I followed him down the hall, past what seemed like 50 rooms, then down a spiral staircase into what was probably the basement. I could tell he had outfitted most of it as a dungeon, even down to the dark rock walls and flaming torches. We moved down a hall, around a corner and he opened the door to a room.

The first thing that caught my eye was her tits. Leather straps had been fashioned into slip knots, then fit around the base of her breasts. The two lines stretched up to the ceiling out of sight, but the purpose was clear. She was being suspended by her breasts. Her body was horizontal to the floor, straps holding her knees up and wide open, and her ankles pulled wide and down to the floor. Her arms were bound together at wrist and elbow, then her wrists were pulled down to a ring in the floor. Her body was seemingly covered with angry red welts, a combination of what looked like harsh leather whip marks and cane welts. A small chain connected to her clit, pulling up and away from her body, toward the ceiling. A bearded man, large like Grizzly Adams, was using a leather strap on her pussy and ass, alternating hard strokes from the top, then the bottom. Her crotch as beat red from the punishment, but he continued to strap her. I wondered why she wasnТt screaming until I noticed her head. James noticed me looking.

УWhen she arrived, we were impressed by the use of plaster and decided not to get rid of it all. We cut away all but what you see, leaving her head encased for the duration.Ф I could see the breathing tubes still sticking out, but her head and neck were a perfect square. I wondered to myself what she had been going through. After ages without any contact, to be tortured like this with no ability to make a sound, or hear. I could see they had drilled into the cube and attached a ring to the top, which had a chain connected to it and up to the ceiling, holding her head up. As I approached her body, I could see her chest heaving. Each time the strap struck her, her chest froze, then released again. I knew that she was screaming her lungs out.

I was a huge hit at that first party, and invited to join as a permanent member. As I looked back to Sarah, staring at the ceiling and struggling to maintain her balance, I smiled. Finally, my dreams had come true, and I was never happier.

The End

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

Comments Off

The Gift [THNDRSHARK]

THE GIFT

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

The Gift
by Thndrshark. All rights reserved.

A quick story I threw together. See if you can guess what celebrities inspired me!

Jennifer glanced at her watch and wondered where her friend was. Standing outside the local electronics store, she was impatient to get this over with. Her boyfriend's birthday was the next day and she still couldn't decide what to get him. She knew this was an important moment in their relationship. She had recently graduated from high school and moved in with John, her senior by 3 years, and they had already spoken of spending the rest of their lives together. His turning 21 not only marked an important moment in his life, but was also the first time they could officially celebrate an occasion as an adult couple. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find anything appropriate. She had already considered everything from a trip to a new watch, but they didn't seem to fit the right mood. She had always been bad at this gift thing. She knew he put on a good face when he had opened previous presents. But she could see his disappointment sneaking through as he held up socks or a new CD. And whenever he gave gifts to her, they always seemed to be the perfect thing for the moment, gifts that inevitably brought tears to her eyes.

She finally caught site of Sarah across the parking lot and waved her down. She ran up, out of breath, but looking none the worse for wear, as usual.

"I'm sorry I was late," she started while still several feet away. "I couldn't get away."

Jennifer was just glad she was finally here. "No problem. I appreciate you coming." Sarah looked up the store front they now stood in front of.

"Is this what you're reduced to?" She was smiling, but she could see the troubled look in her friend's eyes.

"I have no idea," Jennifer said. "I want something really special, something he'll never forget. I doubt we'll find it here but I have no clue what else to try."

Jennifer and Sarah had been friends since child hood. Both very different, they none-the-less had something in common; their uncommon beauty. Jennifer had an innocent, friendly face, complimented by long, dark, softly curled hair, large, firm breasts and a thin frame. She was probably the single most sought after girl when she was in high school, with the choice of boyfriends at her fingertips. Sarah shared a similar level of beauty. But where Jennifer may have been the innocent ingйnue, Sarah was the strong leading lady type. A little taller than Jennifer at 5'2", she was more of the vixen. Her shoulder length sandy blonde hair offset her deep, dark eyes and glamorous face. But more so than her beauty, you could see her thinking. She certainly wasn't as voluptuous as her friend, a point that wasn't lost on her, but she held her own in the field of men.

"You're thinking too simple, Jen," Sarah goaded. " What do all guys want?"

"Well, sex, I guess."

"Is John any different?"

"No. He probably has a more refined taste, but it all boils down to sex, anyway." They both laughed at this. Jennifer had always confided everything in her friend. Even when John started teasing her with ideas of wearing tight latex outfits or threatening to give her a sound spanking. Slowly, John revealed a darker side that often surprised and shocked Jennifer. But Sarah was never shocked. Instead she encouraged her friend to experiment, knowing that his fantasies were the best way to his heart.

"No better way to a man's heart than through his pants," Sarah proclaimed. Jennifer nodded.

"Ok. Then what do you suggest?"

Sarah seemed to muse for a moment. "Well... if he had his ultimate fantasy, what do you think it would be?"

Jennifer blushed at the thought that crossed her mind. But she knew her friend enough to know she wouldn't be surprised. "I think he would love to have me as his sex slave for a night."

Sarah smiled at that, glancing over Jennifer's body. "You would make a good little slave, wouldn't you!" They both laughed, though Jennifer's was a bit more forced.

"Ok, if you're serious about this, then you have to trust me fully, ok?"

Jennifer shrugged her shoulders. "I really don't know what else to do." She waved her hand in front of her. "Lead the way."

________________________________________

Jennifer waited nervously in John's living room. She smoothed her sun dress across her legs and looked at her watch, wondering what was keeping Sarah. John had been sent off for the afternoon to some sporting event, a gift from his friends at work, leaving the girls at home to get ready for his "big surprise." They had agree to meet at his place by 3:00pm and Jennifer had arrived right on time, letting herself into the home with her key. Sarah had borrowed John's key as well, so she had expected to find her friend already here. Instead, the house seemed empty. She took a seat in the living room, trying to distract herself with television. The old mansion, an inheritance from John's grandparents, seemed to loom over her, its dark woods and foreboding design making her uncomfortable. She had always felt a little uncomfortable in the house, but she knew she had to start calling it home.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard footsteps from upstairs. As she turned to see who it was, she heaved a sigh of relief when she saw Sarah.

"You scared the hell out of me," she said.

"I'm sorry. I came over early to get some things ready upstairs for your big night." She grinned in excitement. "Are you ready?" Jennifer watched as she set down a large duffle bag.

"I guess so," she mumbled.

"Ok, then let's just start here." Sarah dropped the bag and started pulling out a collection of strange objects. "Get undressed. Did you do what I told you?"

Jennifer began slipping off her sun dress, revealing her young body and newly shaved pussy. "Yes, but it feels really weird."

Sarah took a glance, smiling at the sight of her. "You look perfect. Come over here." Jennifer walked over to her friend, feeling very self conscious. But Sarah had seen her naked many times, and they had even had a short lived and exciting lesbian moment a few years ago, though it had only consisted of some kissing and touching. Her friend knew her body well and she knew there was no reason to be embarrassed.

"Turn around and lit your hair up," Sarah commanded. As Jennifer held her hair up high, she could feel her friend placing a wide collar around her neck. The band fit snuggly, then a click told her a small padlock held it into place. She touched the strange piece of leather around her neck, feeling the cool steel of a ring dangling from the front. She could feel a strange tingling between her legs as she responded to the feeling. She was getting aroused! Jennifer knew she was sort of interested in these types of games. Though her shy nature often appeared as prudishness, she found herself daring John to punish her now and then, encouraging him to bind her hands. It was rare that they did these things, but she knew he was always the most aroused when they did. And she had to admit that she was also.

"Put your hands behind your back, palms touching." Jennifer pressed her wrists together, knowing what was next. The cool leather strap slipped around her wrists and pulled snug until she couldn't move them apart. She soon felt another strap around her elbows and her friend began pulling them together. She was limber enough to manage this form of restriction, but the feeling of her breasts being forced out and her shoulders back made her feel even more vulnerable. Sarah finished binding her arms then rotated her to face a mirror in the corner. Standing behind Jennifer, holding shoulders, Sarah could feel the lust in her heart, as she examined her bound friend. She couldn't resist running her fingers down across her breasts, feeling them grow beneath her fingers.

"I should keep you for myself, she whispered in Jennifer's ear. She could feel a shiver run through her friend's body, despite the warmth of the room. Her hands caressed down and over Jennifer's firm breasts then over her flat stomach. Jennifer was getting even more wet, not only from her friend's touch, but also from the sight of her own bound form. Rather than the amateur dog collar or soft rope that John had used on her in the past, the thick leather around her neck and the wide straps holding her arms together behind her made her look just like the dark fantasies she had dreamt. She was both scared and excited by the image before her.

"Let me finish then we can head upstairs," said Sarah, reaching into the bag once more. Jennifer looked down at the strange object that Sarah held to her lips. The large red rubber ball looked far too large to fit into her young mouth. But she had agreed to go along with the plan, and reluctantly opened up. Sarah pushed the ball by her teeth, forcing the gag deep into her mouth. Jennifer almost choked on the enormous size as the rubber sank in, but had no chance to complain. The leather strap connected was quickly, and Sarah gave it an extra tug to pull it deeper into her friend's mouth, eliciting a muffled whimper. Sarah caressed her hair to calm her down, then looked her in the eyes.

"Do you want to do the shoes, too?" Jennifer thought of the painful ballet shoes she had tried on at the store. She knew they made her long legs look even more sexy, but she also knew that they were very painful to walk on. But she was determined to go all the way, and didn't want to stop now. She nodded.

"Good girl," Sarah said, reaching back into the bag. The menacing shoes made Jennifer's heart skip a beat, but she allowed Sarah to sit her down on a footstool and lace the shoes on. Finally, she was lifted back on her feet. She wanted to cry out immediately as her toes pressed into the end of the shoes and her calves stretched. She now towered over her friend, but was also at her mercy. Sarah smiled again then laced a finger into Jennifer's collar ring and led her up the stairs.

________________________________________

Jennifer was getting nervous. It seemed like she had been waiting here for several hours. She tried to shift her position, but the straps allowed her little room. Sarah had led her into John's master bedroom and Jennifer had stopped surprised at the door. The room, already made up of dark woods and a large wrought iron bed, had been enhanced by a collection of equipment and furniture that made the room look like a dungeon. Chains dangled off the bed frame, metal cuffs connected to the end and harsh looking whips laid about. Sarah had led Jennifer to the middle of an open space near the base of the bed and pushed her onto her knees. A heavy chain connected from an ancient ring set in the floor to the front of her collar. The weight seemed to pull her body down to the floor and she struggled to stay upright. She could feel as Sarah attached s spreader bar between her knees and ankles, forcing her to expose her newly shaved pussy. At that, Sarah had kissed her friend on the head.

"I'm going to make up a story for you, something that will get his blood rolling. Just play along, ok?" Jennifer had little choice but to nod, then watch her friend leave her.

She spent the time trying to see how Sarah had modified the room. But the lighting was spotty and dark, making it difficult to see well. She could only see the glints of light glancing off dangerous steel.

Despite the heavy chain dragging on her neck, Jennifer was forced to maintain a very erect posture, the straps holding her arms together behind her forced her back straight. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she caught sight of a mirror and her dim reflection. She could see how she would look to John. She was truly a slave now, completely bound and immobile. Her pussy was wet and she wished she could touch herself, or even close her legs. But the knee spreader kept her legs wide and removed any possibility of self pleasure.

She jumped at the sound of voices outside. She expected John but she could also pick out Sarah voice. She was surprised, but not too much, thinking perhaps that John was making her stay until he discovered her surprise. The voices grew louder until, just outside the door, she could hear Sarah's voice.

"I know you've fantasized about this, John," she could hear Sarah say. "Now's your chance. Jennifer is now your sex slave and she asked me to help you train her." Jennifer was shocked to hear this. She had never intended for Sarah to be a part of this. She figured she would be found by John, have a fun night of love making and that would be that. Now, her best friend was making it into something much more. She suddenly remembered her friend's words. This was part of the fantasy. Well, one of her fantasies had included Sarah dominating her, so maybe this would make it come true.

"So, what do you get out of this?" John was just outside the door, pausing before entering.

"I think you and I would make a great master and mistress team. Jennifer will need a lot of training. Even though she was so certain she wanted to be your slave, I think she's in for more than she thought."

"How far are we going to take her," he asked.

"All the way," Sarah responded. "If you don't want her after awhile, we can sell her and make some money. I'm sure she would command a good price." Jennifer was shocked to hear this, but she knew it must be part of the story.

Finally, the door opened and John entered. He must stopped at the door, examining the changes to his room, until his eyes stopped on his girlfriend's bound form. Jennifer kept her head bowed in submission, remembering some book about not looking her master in the eyes. She could see his boots approach, then his hand reached down and lifted her chin. She could see his passion in his eyes and at that moment was determined to live up the fantasy, if anything just to make this the best gift he had ever received. She knew she must be a sight, her long, dark hair cascading past the padlocked collar onto her harshly bound arms. He lifted her chin until the heavy chain stopped her head from rising more.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She looked into his eyes and nodded. "You want to be my slave?" Again, she nodded. "You'll do anything I command?" A nod again. "You will be mine to own?" Yes, she signaled. She watched him smile and release her chin. She glanced behind him if only to give Sarah a thankful look and was shocked at how her friend looked. Rather than the old jeans and blouse she wore earlier, she almost didn't recognize her now. Towering on six inch heeled patent boots, Sarah was clad in long rubber leggings that gleamed in the light. A skimpy latex G-string hid just beneath a rubber garter belt. Her long arms were also covered in rubber gloves that reached nearly to her shoulders. Her breasts were exposed, supported by a rubber push up bra, forcing her large breasts to standout even more. She was a beautiful sight, but a surprise to her friend. Sarah finally looked down and her smile did not reassure Jennifer.

________________________________________

She didn't know what to do other than lick. She had been left on the floor at first and Sarah had undressed her boyfriend then slipped to her knees and licked his cock to life. Jennifer was too shocked to look away. Finally, John lifted Sarah to her feet and pushed her over onto the bed. He slipped his large cock into her friend's pussy and began pumping her hard. Jennifer couldn't believe what she was seeing. Rather than a present for her boyfriend, the night was quickly turning into a personal nightmare. She could only watch as her best friend was fucked hard by her boyfriend, a position she had hoped to be in by now. Tears began running down her cheeks.

She had been lifted off the floor and placed on her back. John held up her ankle spreader to keep her on the bed, then nodded to Sarah. She watched as Sarah pulled the gag from her mouth. Her jaw ached so bad, she wasn't able to speak at first. This gave Sarah time to slip off her g-string and position her pussy over Jennifer's face. Without hesitation, she literally sat down on her friend's face. She tried to cry out but the sharp sting of a strap on her bare pussy stopped her. Sarah had selected a rubber strap an began encouraging her new slave.

"Lick my pussy, slave," Sarah commanded, then swung down again. The feeling of the rubber striking her clit pushed her tongue from her mouth, discovering Sarah's damp, and also newly shaved pussy. She didn't know what was happening but she knew she could not take the pain she felt between her legs. She began sucking quickly.

"She responds nicely, John," Sarah cooed as a flush of excitement crossed her face. "Have you ever fucked her up the ass?" Jennifer froze at that question, eliciting another sharp slap on her pussy.

"No, she would never let me," John responded.

"Well what she wants is no longer an issue, is it," Sarah pointed out. John nodded ad lifted Jennifer's ankle spreader higher. She could feel a pressure against her virgin asshole, then a sudden push and sharp pain as her boyfriend entered her ass. She tried to scream but Sarah only sat down harder on her face and added another strap to the increasingly red area between her legs. Jennifer, tears now streaming from her eyes, doubled her efforts on the pussy forced into her face, trying to ignore the harsh penetration.

________________________________________

John had pulled out when Sarah had come to a screaming orgasm, then lifted Jennifer off the bed and stood her on her ballet shoes. She was weak, not only from her bound position, but also from the brutal assault upon her mind. She didn't notice much as her ankles were attached to rings on the floor and a chain was attached to bound wrists. Without warning the chain was cranked up, forcing her to bend at the waist. Her arms were pulled up until her wrists pointed to the ceiling, causing intense pain in her shoulders. Jennifer barely noticed as Sarah placed her friend's hair into a ponytail, laced with an extra piece of leather, then attached the strap to her elbow bondage. Sarah pulled back hard, forcing Jennifer's head back until her face pointed forward, then tied off the strap. As John examined some of the toys, Sarah leaned in and whispered to her friend.

"I'm sorry about not telling you, Jen," Sarah apologized. I found a note you had written to me a few months ago, telling me about one of your fantasies. You had said you really wanted to do this for John." Jennifer remembered a note she had written to her friend some months ago, sharing a dream she had had. She never intended it to become a reality.

"Sarah, this isn't what I wanted," she croaked, unable to say more. Her scalp was beginning to ache from her hair being pulled back hard and her toes had begun to throb from their restricted position. She was exhausted from the ordeal she had experienced, and only hoped it would end soon.

"I know, but John is so happy," Sarah touched her cheek. "I'm sorry I got involved but this is definitely the best gift you've ever given him. Don't ruin it by not playing along." Jennifer had to admit she had never seen her boyfriend so excited. She had experienced fantasies of this nature in the past, so she had to admit she was turned on too. But she didn't imagine the pain and humiliation.

"I'll play along, Sarah," she whispered. "I trust you." Sarah smiled and stepped away as John came back.

"This is some amazing stuff, Sarah. Are you sure we can use it on Jennifer?"

"Just ask her, John." He leaned over to his girlfriend, his cock still hard in front of her, and growing even harder at the sight of his helpless new slave.

"Tell me what I can do to you, Jennifer," John commanded. She knew she had to play along to avoid ruining his present. She just hoped she never actually experienced all of this.

"I'm yours to do with as you please, master," Jennifer said. "My life and my very existence is in your hands. I am yours to train, punish, share or sell as you see fit, master. I only want to please you and serve you, and whomever you want me to please or serve."

"You see? I told you," Sarah said.

"Ok. I guess she's my slave now," John said in amazement. "I just can't believe it! She was so nice and wholesome. I can't believe she wants to be a sex slave for life!"

Jennifer jumped. Did he say life? She wanted to look at his face, at Sarah's face, to see if they were joking. Was this part of the game? When would be know the truth? Jennifer was speechless.

"Let's have some fun," John said, standing in front of Jennifer's mouth. Without much warning, he shoved his hard cock deep into her mouth and down her throat, then began fucking her face. She could taste her own asshole on her tongue, causing her to gag slightly. But she had little choice to resist. She was bound immobile, her face exposed for just such an abuse. She could barely breath in between strokes. She could sense that Sarah had moved behind her and suddenly she felt a sharp strike and heard the slap of a wide paddle on her ass. She nearly choked at the sound, feeling the burn and sting of the wide rubber paddle on her ass. Sarah added another, then another to each cheek, turning Jennifer's ass into a cherry red and bringing fresh tears to her eyes. Finally, Sarah stopped, but quickly appeared beneath her. Suddenly, her nipples burst into fire from the sharp clamps Sarah applied. She felt like they would be cut off by the hard steel. She felt as her friend applied weights to the chains dangling beneath her, further stretching her breasts beneath her.

Jennifer could feel John getting close to cumming. He pulled out just before, resting his cock on the tip of her tongue.

"She always hated tasting cum," John commented to Sarah. "I guess I can do this now." His cum launched out of his cock, laying across Jennifer's tongue. "Don't swallow, slave." John commanded as the white substance collected on his new slave's tongue. Finally spent, John leaned over to look at the cum pooled on Jennifer's tongue.

"How do you like that, slave," he asked. "I have a whole list of things you used to hate, but now you're my slave, I guess you will learn to love them!" With that he stood and left the room, leaving the puddle of cum still in Jennifer's mouth.

________________________________________

Jennifer could feel the morning sunlight warming her body. She tried to roll over but found that her motion was still restricted by a heavy chain from her collar to the ring in the floor. She tried to open her eyes, then remembered the tight leather hood stretched across her face. The kidskin was so tight it molded her face. Her eyes were covered by pads, then a built-in blindfold covered those. Her mouth was filled with a rubber blow up gag, inflated so large her jaws had ached all night. She still felt the collar locked on her neck and her arms bound behind her. The spreader bars had been removed and a short six inch chain now connected her ankles. She could feel her ballet shoes on her feet.

If she could cry any more, she would. Sarah was taking this fantasy/gift business too far. After fifteen minutes of holding the dreaded pool of cum in her mouth, John had returned to let her swallow. She could still feel the coating of sticky liquid down her throat. Sarah had quickly forced the blowup gag into her mouth, then inflated it until Jennifer's eyes had watered. Sarah made sure she had a good view of the massive canopy bed, then she had taken John into her and they had made love for hours. From time to time, one of them would glance over to her. John would smile at the sight of his new slave bound helpless while he made love to her beautiful friend. Sarah would smile at Jennifer as she felt John inside of her. Finally, they had finished, kissing and caressing each other, until Sarah had finally proclaimed it was time to let Jennifer down. She was relieved. It was time to end this gift. Her arms, bound behind her then forced up high in the air, had begun to scream in pain, and her calves had begun to cramp from the constant pressure. She was angry at Sarah, but she had thought it was a little fun, too. She would forgive her later, once she had a chance to recover.

But after releasing her ceiling chain and disconnecting her spreader bars, Sarah did not untie her arms. Instead, she attached the short chain between her ankles, the forced her to walk back to the place she had been at the start of the evening. She had trouble moving since her head was still forced back harshly, forcing her now to look at the ceiling as she walked. Sarah forced her to the floor again, then attached the floor chain and climbed back into bed. Jennifer could just see the two cuddling in her own bed, as she lay bound and helpless on the floor. She felt humiliated as she lay there. She was till naked, her asshole throbbed from the brutal penetration, and her neck had begun aching from the harsh position. She tried to struggle, to move or get away, but the heavy steel of the chain and her bent position prevented her from moving much at all.

It was only after midnight that she could hear John's voice.

"I can't stand her staring at us like this. I still think of her as my girlfriend."

"I can take care of that, sweetie," Sarah said, then rose to apply the harsh hood. Now, in the morning, she could barely hear bodies moving. Here hearing was impaired by the hood, but she was sure she sensed motion. The sudden yank on her collar chain told her she was right.

Jennifer was kept chained on her knees as John got cleaned up. She was shocked when, preparing to go get breakfast, he kissed Sarah passionately, then patted Jennifer on the head and left. She was sure her friend would now let her go. Sarah instead pulled a stool up in front of her friend and removed her gag.

"What the hell is going on," Jennifer demanded with her dry and cracked voice. "This wasn't what I had in mind, you sleeping with John, me being tied up all night."

"I know, I'm sorry," Sarah pleaded. "I know how important this gift is and I wanted to make sure John never forgot it."

"You got him thinking I want to be his slave forever!"

"Yeah, that kind of got out of hand," Sarah acknowledged. "I never said forever and you didn't have to agree to it."

" I know, but it would have ruined the story."

"Exactly! That's the whole point of this. Rather than just a simple night of some fun and games, we've given him a fantasy most men only have wet dreams about!" Jennifer had to admit it was good. But she could feel the pain in her shoulders and the punishment she had received last night.

"When is it going to end?"

"Look, tonight we'll have some fun and then I'll let him down. I doubt he could possibly believe that you would want to become a lifetime slave."

"Ok, but take it easy. And why can't you let me go for now?"

"He'll be back any minute. He just ran down to the store. We have to keep up the illusion. You have to be completely submissive today and do anything he asks."

"I guess," Jennifer said reluctantly. "I can't imagine it could get much worse." Sarah chuckled.

"I'm sure he has some surprises for you."

________________________________________

Upon John's return, Jennifer played her role to perfection, and was rewarded by seeing the joy in his eyes. He stood before her for ten minutes, just admiring how her bound body and kneeling form was available for him. She was on her knees, spreading her legs as wide as she could despite the short chain between her ankles. Normally she would have her head bowed, but her hair had been kept in a pony tail and though the hood was removed, Sarah had kindly reattached the strap to her elbow bondage, pulling her head back harshly. But Jennifer didn't mind, and even enjoyed the uncomfortable position.

John rubbed his hands across his captive slave's body, squeezing her large breasts and even tweaking her nipples. She jumped at that, but didn't pull away. He smiled. She was truly his.

________________________________________

Jennifer had worn rubber before, but never this much. She sat quietly at her master's feet, with only the heat and pain of the rubber bondage to distract her. John had seemed to relish dressing his new slave in her outfit, making sure that each piece was as snug and restrictive as possible. As Sarah supported Jennifer on the tips of her ballet shoes, he had started with a black rubber panty with two blow up dildos built into it. She was forced to bend over and feel the one of the black shapes push into her ass, filling her up even before it was inflated. The second, larger dildo pressed into her pussy, then the panty was pulled up snug. A rubber bra came next. The firm cups seemed to be designed to not only support her breasts but also cup them. She quickly discovered the less pleasant aspects of the piece. Her breasts seemed to squeeze into the bra, popping into each cup. A rubber gasket pressed the base of each breast, forcing each to bulb out. As she began to fill out the bra, she cried out behind her gag. Small, needle-like spikes pressed against her skin, sinking slightly into each breast. It felt like hundreds of small pins had been pushed into her skin and despite how she moved, the rubber bands at the base of each breasts kept them forced into each cup.

For a brief moment her ballet shoes were removed and Jennifer quickly found she was unable to flatten her feet. Her tendons had tightened over the night. Sarah pulled a pair of black latex leggings over her feet and up her legs, then replaced her torturous shoes. Her arms were unbound for the first time in 20 hours and left to dangle at her sides. Sarah slipped shoulder length rubber gloves on her, then John began pulling a rubber body suit up her legs. The suit fit over the panties and bra, the inflation bulbs for the dildos fitting through small holes in the crotch. Each leg overlapped the leggings perfectly, creating a nearly seamless link. Her gloves were overlapped similarly. Her ball gag was removed and a rubber hood was stretched over her head and smoothed across her face. The rubber was skin tight, pressing tightly against her cheeks and pressing her hair flat. The end was fed underneath the body suit collar, then the suit was closed at top. The hood left open eyes and mouth, plus small holes for her nostrils. John quickly inserted stoppers up her nose and before Jennifer could panic, she realized she could breath through small tubes inserted through the stoppers. She looked down to see a blow up gag being pressed against her lips. With a quiet sigh, Jennifer opened her mouth and let Sarah push the bladder in. She could feel her friend lock the gag in place, then John began to inflate the bulb. She could feel the rubber grow until her tongue was pressed down hard and her jaw was stretched. She looked up to see John smiling at her, continuing to pump. Already her eyes had begun to water and she pleaded with her eyes for him to stop. But he pumped on until she was certain the ball would burst. Finally, she watched as John twisted the connection at the front of the gag, then removed the inflation bulb.

Jennifer had begun to panic. She had never been restricted to this degree. The tight rubber made it difficult to breath, and now she was forced to rely on the small tubes in her nose. She was starting to sweat under her latex prison, but knew she would be wearing it for some time to come. She was even more surprised when she saw John preparing even more for her to put on.

"Bind her arms behind her again, Sarah," John commanded. "But I want to see if her wrists will meet her collar." Both Sarah and Jennifer were shocked at this suggestion, but Sarah could see that John was quite serious. He handed her a pair of manacles that were connected by a small pivot. As Sarah attached Jennifer's wrists behind her first, John began stretching a thicker rubber hood over the first one. Quickly, her eyes were covered by a pair of dark lenses that had been built into the hood. She felt as her nose tubes were fed through holes and the hood was pulled snug over her head. John then took a wide rubber collar and fit it over Jennifer's neck, locking on both helmets and the body suit. She could feel John pull it snug, then attach several small padlocks at the back. She tried to move her head, but found the collar seriously restricted her movement. She couldn't turn to catch sight of John attaching a small cable through a ring at the back of the collar, then to her new wrist cuffs. She felt as John pulled the cable up, forcing her wrists to the middle of her back, then inverted and above her elbows. She could feel her chest pushing out, the pins forcing themselves even further into her skin. She had always been flexible, but she wasn't sure she could accommodate John's wishes. But he was determined to complete the job, pulling hard until he could hear Jennifer cry out beneath her painful gag. Finally her wrists reached the back of her wide collar and John quickly locked the two together. Jennifer could feel her shoulders begin to burn from the harsh position, but she had no method to complain. But John wasn't finished. He fed another strap around her elbows and pulled hard, forcing them together as well.

Finally, as Jennifer tried to adjust to the growing pain in her shoulders, he laced a corset around her waist. The cincher seemed to be designed for someone half her size, but John pulled the laces hard, reducing Jennifer's waist from a petite 20 inches to a tiny 17 inches. She found it even more difficult to breath now through her tubes. Reaching beneath her legs, he squeezed both inflation bulbs. Jennifer could feel the two dildos growing inside of her, filling her ass and pussy with rubber. Again, John far exceeded what she thought was her limit, increasing the size until she thought she would faint, then locked off the bulbs and left them dangling between her legs.

________________________________________

Sarah had left to run errands and John had led his rubber slave into his office by a chain leash, then forced her to kneel at his feet. Jennifer wasn't surprised to find that a ring had been set into the floor beside his desk, to which John locked her leash. She was starting to lose control of the idea that this was all just a game. Jennifer had read plenty of stories that involved slavery and bondage that she would immerse herself in. Now, as she felt the crushing feeling of the two layers of rubber on her body, the punishment bra that forced sharp spikes into her breasts and the extreme method her arms had been bound, she felt like she had been transformed into a real slave and she was experiencing her true fate. She was isolated from the world, unable to release herself, or to ask for release. Jennifer knew she was being truly controlled and without Sarah's assurance that this would end soon, she would not have been able to maintain control.

The eye pieces were covered with a dark lens, much like a welding glass, limited her view to within a foot or two. Her hearing was limited as well, but she could still hear John's muffled voice through the two layers of rubber. He had begun to make phone calls and for the first time Jennifer was allowed to stay in the room. In the past, John kept his office locked, assuring his girlfriend that she wouldn't be interested in his business dealings. She had always assumed he was just keeping client confidentiality, but she quickly began to doubt her optimism. Recently, she got the impression that he was involved in his own shady dealings, but she hadn't been concerned. He was seemingly wealthy and very giving, which was good enough for her.

Now, as she was ignored like an object she had become, she learned more of the work he did. It was all very cryptic and much was lost on her, but she did notice that he was inviting friends over for the evening. Jennifer panicked. She knew he was probably wanting to show off his new slave girl, and that meant he might want to share her as well. Based on her comments earlier, when she was playing the game Sarah had wanted her to play, she had offered herself completely. With fear in her heart she suddenly realized he was preparing a gang bang for his new property.

"No, I didn't know either," she could hear John say. "I thought she was all wholesome, too." A pause, then, "No, she is sitting here. I've got her in full rubber, with blow up dildos and a gag. Oh, and get this: I folded her arms up her back so her wrists are locked to the back of her collar!" He laughed at loud to a comment from the other end. "Yes, you can fuck that pretty little mouth of hers. But bring your piercing gear. Nose, tongue, nipples and clit." Jennifer was shocked at the idea. She had always avoided any body piercings, largely since she felt too embarrassed to have any. Now, unless Sarah got back soon and broke the news, she would be forcibly pierced, and not just her tongue! "Oh, and bring the permanent rings. She's my slave now, right?"

Jennifer kneeled in silence for the remainder of his calls, dreading not only the humiliation of servicing John's friends as a slave, but also the threat of having rings permanently piercing her body. She almost missed a phone call that sent shivers down her spine.

"Yeah, it's John. Are you still looking for another girl?" She could just make out John's head nodding. "I think I've got your girl. She's 18 years old, very attractive." A pause, "How much can you get for her? - Wow, that much? - No, she's really 18 and never been a slave before. - Tonight,, after we're done with here. - No, no injury, just some fun." Jennifer couldn't believe what she was hearing! John had made a deal to sell her into slavery, a fate worse than death. She felt faint, not only from the harsh constriction she was already forced in, but also from the added feeling of this never ending. Rather than a horrible game, yet a game that would finish, she now knew she might never see freedom again. Images of slavery shot through her mind, filled with cruel masters, foreign countries and even harsher tortures than she had already faced.

As John finished the call, Jennifer tried to adjust her position for more comfort. Her rubber skin had now molded so well to her own skin that she could hardly tell the difference. Her arms had gone somewhat numb, though she could still feel her fingers, which was a good sign. John finally stood and unhooked her leash, then lifted her back to her toe shoes. The sudden pain of her feet crushing into the painful devices woke Jennifer up again. But John was oblivious to her pain. Instead, he gave her gag two more pumps and her dildos a few more each, once again distracting Jennifer from the pain of her toes in exchange for the pressure of the blow up devices. He walked her to face a full length mirror in the corner, moving behind her and wrapping his arms around her body.

"Ah, my little slave," he cooed in her rubber covered ear. "I can't wait to see what punishments I can create for you. I've been wanting to have you as my slave for so long. If I would only have known how eager you were to become a life long slave, I would have captured you long ago." His fingers reached around to pinch her latex cupped breasts, squeezing them. The spikes on the inside drove even further into her flesh as new tears flowed behind Jennifer's eye covers. "Tonight will be fun. We'll pierce you as a slave, maybe even brand you."

Despite the the clenching of her heart with fear, she couldn't help but admire the rubber clad form reflected before her. She looked far more shapely than ever before. The breast cups helped accentuate her already largish breasts by banding the base of them, helping them to bulge out further. The corset at her waist crushed her down so tiny that she looked like she could break in half. The shiny rubber gleamed in the light, making her legs look longer and sleek. The ballet shoes forced her leg straight, lengthening her thigh. She felt wet from seeing herself like this, realizing that despite the horrible concept of being kept like this forever, she did like the feeling. She had never even dreamed about becoming a slave for life. It had always been a distant fantasy and simply ended at a playful period of time and then release. Now, as she examined the bound and tormented form before her, she had to admit that she secretly longed for such treatment. But she also knew she was only 18, with a life of choices and decision ahead of her. She wanted to be free to experience her adulthood, not bound and forced to submit to her master's every whim. But she still enjoyed her body now, in the harsh layers of rubber. Even the way her arms were bound added to the beauty. It looked like she was armless and thus the lines were undisturbed. John smiled as he realized she was admiring herself.

"Plenty of time for that later, my pet. We have an entire series of modifications I plan to make to your lovely body. Much larger breasts, even smaller waist. But, it's time to get ready for tonight."

Jennifer dutifully followed along as he tugged her away from the mirror. As she felt her feet being crushed into her shoes, and the skin tight rubber squeezing every inch of her body, reality came crashing back. She realized that if Sarah didn't get back soon, she might find herself sold as a slave to some distant stranger, whom she was certain would never release her. She longed to cry out, to yell for her friend. But she couldn't. Perhaps when she was rebound she could explain what had happened to John and he would release her. She could only hope the gift hadn't gone too far.

________________________________________

Jennifer felt strangely naked. After eight hours in her rubber prison, her body was now naked except for the blow up dildos and gag still in her mouth. But even more than her nakedness, her current bondage made her feel even more exposed. Steel ankle cuffs had been added above her ballet shoes, locking her feet to the floor a precarious five feet wide. Leaned backwards, her waist was supported by a padded stanchion. Wrist cuffs were connected to chains and pulled wide and behind her. The resulting position forced her to bend backward until she was uncomfortably leaning at a 45 degree angle. To add to the discomfort, John had put her hair into a ponytail, lacing a leather strap with into it, then attached the strap to a ring beneath her. Pulling hard, he forced her head back severely, then tied off the strap. That was two hours ago. She could hear the sounds of new guests entering the house, clinking glasses and talking loudly downstairs. Jennifer had long since gotten over her embarrassment, but she could feel a strong sense of humiliation rising as the footsteps climbed the stairs.

Earlier in the day, once the rubber suit had been removed, she was led into the shower stall and chained to the spigot. John had left the gag in place and ordered Jennifer to shave and wash. After half an hour under the hot spray, she had managed to complete the job. Hunger had overtaken her and once released, she had slumped to the floor. John had rebound her arms behind her, then forced her to suck him off. Despite the humiliating task, Jennifer was eager for the nourishment. She didn't mind as John held her hair and slammed his cock deep down her throat until his cum built inside. Once again, though, he came on her tongue, then forced her to hold it in her mouth for some time before she swallowed. This, unlike any other thing she had experienced, was the most humiliating. She hated the taste of cum and John knew it.

After drying her off, John had brought her back out into the bedroom, forcing her to her knees in the same spot she had spent the night. Placing spreader bars between both her ankles and knees, John had then applied a small clamp to Jennifer's clit. As the teeth bit into her most tender spot, she screamed in pain. But John continued until her clit was crushed beneath the clamp. A small chain stretched toward the floor and he pulled until the end hooked onto a small ring beneath her. Tears streamed from her eyes at this newest torture. As her eyes began to clear from the pain, she saw John approaching with another clamp. He quickly applied this one to her septum, turning the screw until she was certain it would punch a hole.

"After tonight we won't have to use this clamp. We'll put a nice big ring through your septum, just like a nice little cow." John chuckled as he saw the terror in his new slave's eyes. Jennifer couldn't imagine such a thing. A ring in her nose, especially one as large and humiliating as she knew John would use, would make her look like an animal. She whimpered slightly at the thought as she watched John continue setting up. He lowered a chain from the ceiling and attached it to the clamp. Turning the winch, he quickly took away the slack and began hauling Jennifer's head up toward the ceiling with the tug of the chain. As the strain increased on her nose, she tried to rise and release the pressure, only to experience the stabbing pain as her clit was stretched beneath her. She immediately tried to sit down again, only to cry out from the pain in her nose. Jennifer struggled to find a compromise between the two tortures finding little relief. Once John could see her clit had been stretched painfully, he locked off the winch. John could only smile at the sight of his young slave. As if she were wearing a painful corset, her posture was perfectly straight, her breasts pushing out from her chest, her head pulled up hard yet her body still in a kneeling position. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks as the pain of her predicament overwhelmed her.

Jennifer was delirious from the torture when she suddenly realized she was not gagged. Now was the chance to tell John it was all a joke, a gift for his birthday. She tried to focus on her words, but the pain was too intense. Each time she lost focus, she would either rise too high and yank on her distended clit or drop down and pull hard on her septum. She tried to talk, though she wasn't sure what she was saying.

"Master, oh, please, aahhhh, I need to tell you...." But just as she thought she could say the words, she felt John forcing something into her mouth. A massive ball gag was jammed between her teeth, locking her jaws wide and crushing her tongue to the bottom of her mouth.

"No need to speak, my slave," John cooed as he pulled the strap tight and locked it in position. "I know you are devoted to me. This is only a taste of the pain you will experience in the future. But you have to learn never to speak without permission." With that a set of rubber strands connected to a vicious whip fell on her exposed breasts. Jennifer had never felt such pain as her chest exploded in pain. She could just see John out of the corner of her eye as he swung again. His strokes were hard, using his strength to swing the whip hard. Jennifer subconsciously tried to move away from the blows, but she quickly found the pain in her clit and nose again. New tears poured from her eyes as she wailed behind the large gag. John soon switched his aim, striking Jennifer's exposed and stretched clit with the tips of the rubber whip. A wave of pain enveloped her and she lost consciousness.

________________________________________

Jennifer could hear the door swing open and an unknown number of people quickly surrounding her. She hoped that one of them was Sarah and that she would have the chance to ask her friend to end this nightmare. Without her, Jennifer was certain John would keep her permanently in bondage despite any pleadings she might offer.

She jumped in her bonds as hands began running across her body, touching her breasts, stomach, legs and face. She could feel the blood rush into her face as her humiliation increased with each stranger's touch. But the caresses quickly stopped as John began to speak.

"Thank you for joining us tonight. As you can see, my former girlfriend has given herself to me as a permanent slave. Tonight I will mark her with heavy piercings as is customary for a punishment slave. She will wear rings in her septum, tongue, nipples and clit." Jennifer could feel a layer of sweat cover her body as she heard his words. The idea of having her body pierced without her permission was beyond her ability to comprehend. She had no idea what a punishment slave was, but she was sure it wouldn't be fun. A guest seemed to ponder the same thought.

"So you don't intend to use her as a sex slave?"

"I do intend to use her for prostitution as a form of income, but I want to explore and expand her pain thresholds," John responded. "You see, as my girlfriend, she was rather prudish. I am convinced that this was simply a cover for a true masochist. I will employ every method I can devise to bring out these tendencies, including body modification, sensory deprivation, breast torture and more. But now we must get on to the evening, I have a big surprise for you all later." With that the crowd applauded. Jennifer had broken out into a cold sweat at hearing the forms of torture, discipline and humiliation she would endure. If only she could twist enough to see Sarah. She was certain she must be in the crowd, laughing at Jennifer's fear. But her head had been pulled back severely, limiting her view to the opposite end of the large bedroom. All she could see was darkness.

As a tray covered with various steel tools was rolled up, John leaned into Jennifer, whispering in her ear.

"This is it, my slave. Once we pierce you with these permanent rings, you will be a slave forever. I hope you truly do enjoy pain because I'm going to immerse you in it!" His hands caressed her tear stained face. For a moment, Jennifer hoped to see a trace of mercy in her former boyfriend's eyes. Instead, she felt a cruel yank as John tightened her hair strap even further, forcing her head back at an even more severe angle.

Jennifer could feel cool metal sliding against her breast. With no warning, a sharp pain rushed through her chest. She tried to scream but the gag was effective. Her struggles went on unnoticed as the chains that held her in place gave no slack. Jennifer couldn't believe this was happening to her. Even if she could get away now, she would have a permanent ring in her nipple. Then suddenly, another sharp pain cut through her left breast and she knew she would soon have a second ring. She begged for Sarah to come and save her, to appear out of the gloom of this horrible crowd and stop her slide into forced slavery. Instead, she could feel the rings being fed through the new holes in her nipples, and the sudden heat of the soldering iron as the ends were forever melded. A bright light turned on over her, highlighting the new piercings and the crowd applauded. But Jennifer knew it wasn't over. She could still feel the tools on her breasts and the new pain through the heart of her nipple came as no surprise. More humiliating than single rings would be rods forced through the middle of her nipple. Together, the new jewelry would force her nipples to stay hard. She was both angry and frightened. Sarah should have stopped this by now. This type of permanent modification was not part of the deal. She should know that. Instead, her friend, where ever she was, had let this go on.

Jennifer could feel the hands moving lower and she knew her clit would soon be pierced as well. The bright light refocused and she opened her eyes. Now the distant room was less dark, the spill of the bright light bouncing into the huge bedroom. Despite the tears in her eyes, Jennifer could just make out something in the distance. Her head upside down due to its strained position, took a moment to pick out the shape. Her eyes grew wide with terror and she again tried to struggle, this time finding slack in the hard steel holding her. At the opposite end of the room, barely visible except for the traces of light reaching in, was Sarah. Completely naked, she had been chained spread eagle in mid air. Her head was slumped forward in defeat, her blonde hair in tangles. Her body was a crisscross of angry red welts. She had received an extensive whipping across her body making it difficult to find a single unmarred space on her usually pristine skin. Jennifer wailed behind her gag. No wonder her friend had been unable to release her! And finally the weight of the situation came falling down on her. As she began to lose consciousness, the last thought through her mind was the words of her new master, "...life time slave."

________________________________________

Jennifer had been a slave for three years now, she figured, though the amount of pain and torture she had experienced could easily last 10 years. John had lived up to his word, tasking her every moment and exploring her most wild nightmares. She had lost track of every torture she had been put through, though some stuck out in her mind. She had spent several days strapped to the bottom of a coffin, buried alive with hundreds of rats teaming around her. Her breasts had been augmented with a combination of hormones and painful saline injections until her previously largish breasts, at 36D, had grown to a massive 44D. In contrast, her waist had been trained with constant corsetry until she had been reduced to a permanent 16 inches. She could no longer live without a corset and her master found new and more painful version to try out. Her feet had been forever modified to wear ballet shoes and they had not left her feet for any significant time over the past three years. John insisted she accompany him to many parties and gatherings, causing not only pain for his slave but also humiliation. The hair beneath her neck had been permanently removed, the only decoration other than her corset was her many piercings. Her arms had been trained to fold into a reverse prayer, her wrists meeting her wide collar and her elbows touching, until she no longer experienced any other form of arm bondage. Her master took every opportunity to humiliate her. Often the parties they attended, though slavery or fetish oriented, required attendees to wear formal attire. But John insisted that Jennifer come naked, led by a leash connected to her nose chain. She would be fed like a dog at John's feet, her arms still bound in their reverse prayer, her body gleaming from the permanent rings.

Jennifer had long since stopped wondering what had happened to Sarah. A year into her slavery, John had shown her a picture to heighten her feeling of helplessness. It showed Sarah in some far off land, naked except for similar rings, harnessed to a carriage. Her body was covered with lash marks from her Arab owner as he encouraged her to pull him across the hot desert. Jennifer could see small chains connecting Sarah's nipple rings to her nose ring, forcing her head down and making it even more difficult to pull. For a moment Jennifer admired the beauty of her friend's body. Her long, supple legs were highlighted by a similar set of ballet shoes, her large breasts standing out from her lean figure. She couldn't help but think back to her times of freedom. With that, new tears began to flow and John smiled, closing the door to Jennifer's small steel cage and leaving her in heavy chains for the night.

The End

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

Comments Off

Couple Therapy [THNDRSHARK]

COUPLE THERAPY

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

Couple Therapy
by Thndrshark. All rights reserved.

I wrote this while on vacation in Fiji. Boy, was I inspired by all the young, nubile vacationing girls there!

Part 1

I found myself rushing home after work for the first time in awhile. I tried to act all nonchalant as I practically burst in the door. “How’s Lisa,” I asked my wife as I sauntered in. She smiled, knowing the truth.

“Uncomfortable, I’m sure,” she replied as she finished the last of the dishes.

“What happened?”

“She dropped another dish. I put her in the box.” I smiled at the thought. My wife was usually the softer one, though I had found that, like with most women, when they wanted to be cruel they could surpass any man’s imagination.

“When did you put her in?”

“About 11:30 this morning,” she said, returning her attentions to the sink. I just whistled to myself and headed down to the dungeon. It was almost 7:00 now, which meant that Lisa had been in one of the most uncomfortable punishments for over six hours. My cock practically jumped at the thought! I was glad I would never feel the wrath of my wife.

We had been married 5 years before, having discovered a mutual love for bondage and various S&M practices. Early on, we would play with each other, with her being the sub usually to me. But we both quickly realized that we cared too much for each other to go to the lengths we both dreamed, and soon after we where married we began venturing out for others. To date I could count 9 young girls, our preference, that we had trained into slavery. It was only the last three that had been unwilling participants. Neither of us had been comfortable with the concept of kidnapping, rape, torture or true slavery, considering the punishments most governments would land upon us if we where caught. But we studied the subject as a exercise and quickly discovered how easy it could be. So many women disappeared yearly without a trace, a statistic that was kept under heavy wraps by most police agencies. There was little or no way of being caught if you where smart. We began hunting our first victim soon after. She was a young stripper in a state halfway across the country. We tried never to recruit, as we called it, from anywhere close to us. Rule number one. We found a girl with few family attachments and not many friends. Her name was Taylor. She was thin, blonde and had large breasts. The typical mid-western girl gone wrong. She took three months to completely break and we kept her around still to this day.

Our house was a rambling old mansion in the woods in Southern California, far from any prying eyes and well protected. I had a whole wing modified into a slave’s training facility, including old stone and heavy iron decorations. It worked wonders for the girls and was hidden from casual guests. I made my way down to the dungeon now, careful to press the tab hidden in the wall and key in the code on the invisible keypad hidden just beneath the paint. The door slid aside quietly and quickly shut after I was through. It took my eyes a few minutes to adjust before I could pick my way through the vast room to where I could hear Lisa crying.

The box was an idea we stole from some book and took a bit of engineering to build. Built like a stubby coffin, the victim was placed inside of it, their legs doubled up and each knee strapped wide to either side. Arms usually where bound at elbow and wrist behind, with a chain connected to the wrists leading up through a hole in the top. The head was fit through a hole at the top, where a very wide steel collar clamped on to the neck and locked the head into an upright position. At this point the slavegirl was arched backward painfully. The head could be left uncovered but I could tell she had really upset my wife. Her head was covered in a heavy steel cage that mimicked the job of the box. A crank at the top of the cage pushed sharp spikes into the face and scalp. I could see that she was wearing the spike gag as well, a large, soft ball that fit between the jaws, then pushed similar spikes into the soft tissues of the tongue and mouth. The crank for the box was at it’s maximum, meaning that the spikes in the box where pressed hard against Lisa’s naked form. The spikes where dense, no one separated by more than a few inches, and had the uncanny ability to cover every inch of the body. The worst part was how she supported herself. Her nose ring was pulled up hard to the ceiling by a piece of chain that fed through a pulley. The chain returned and connected to her wrists. Another, shorter chain attached from her wrists to her clit ring. My wife had pulled Lisa’s arms up hard, increasing the pain in her shoulders and, in turn, pulling up hard on the nose ring. The box was lifted slightly off the floor, pivoting lightly on the bottom edge. To decrease the pain of the spikes, she was forced to lift her arms higher behind her, a difficult prospect at best, which increased the pull on her clit ring. She could only do this for a few minutes before her shoulders gave out and her arms fell back, yanking hard on her nose ring.

She was a vision of medieval torture and I could feel my cock throbbing. She caught sight of me out of the corner of her eye and tried to beg for release. I’m sure this was the worst she had ever felt, even including the hard whippings.

“Sorry, Lisa,” I said, pulling on her arm/nose chain and letting it drop, eliciting new tears from her. “If I where to release you Angela would be very unhappy. I will, however, give you something to take your mind off the spikes.” I moved to the back of the box and turned a new crank. A wide, self-lubricating dildo extended slowly and precisely toward her pussy. She could feel it push inside and she tried to beg for me to stop. “You don’t want to cum, Lisa? How ungrateful,” I cooed as I buried the six inch cock into her. I flipped a switch and the dildo began both vibrating and pumping in and out of her. I watched as she quickly had the first of several orgasms. As her body thrashed in response, she screamed in pain from the spikes rubbing against her. It was designed to feel like her skin was being ripped off and I’m sure it was doing it’s job.

Lisa was number nine of the unwilling guests we had acquired. Just six weeks ago, on some South Seas Island, we had met her on an empty beach. We had gotten good at finding the best candidates and though we where living on a sailboat, we knew she was here and traveling with a few friends. We had secretly arranged to be on that beach when she would be alone. A friendly offer of some wine knocked her out cold. She was a perfect candidate. Only 20 years old, she was practically alone on this trip. Her friends had quickly met guys and left her to her solitude, which she preferred anyway. She was a bit of a loner, of medium height and build, with brown hair, green eyes and long, firm legs. My first comment to Angela was, “She’ll look great in ballet boots.” My wife just grinned and nodded in agreement.

Our sailboat held the crate we would ship her back to the states in. We took her aboard, stripped her naked and injected her with a knockout drug that would last about 10 hours. I knew this wouldn’t last the entire trip, but as another example of her cruelty, Angela wanted it this way so the subject would wake up in complete and utter bondage, in a crate in the dark.

It didn’t take much time to remove her bikini and admire her young body. Angela played with her largish breasts then pinched the nipple. “We can pierce these twice.” I grunted as I prepared to shave her bare, head to toe. Once completely hairless, we rubbed a salve - we had found it in Europe - from the neck down that prevented hair growth completely. Lisa would not grow hair on her body from the neck down for the foreseeable future. We rolled her over and tested her arm flexibility, practically cheering when her elbows could be forced together without too much strain. It was fun when the girls’ arms had to be trained, but we always preferred it this way.

As I fitted her head with a leather hood, I carefully filled her mouth with a wide gag then cranked down hard on the straps under her chin and over her lips. She would be unable to utter anything more than a slight murmur regardless of how hard she screamed. The eyes where covered with a small pad that glued on to her, then covered with a leather strap as part of the hood. Since her arms didn’t need much training, we strapped them together with wide leather straps at wrist and elbow, then fit her hands into a two pouch single glove. Once they where laced down tight, she would be unable to flex her fingers out, nor touch one hand to the other. Angela was lubricating two large dildos attached to a chastity belt and she carefully forced them deep into Lisa’s pussy, then her asshole. She took it slowly as she could tell this young girl had only been with a couple men, and never been fucked in the ass. The dildos would serve two purposes. A timer would turn on their vibrating about 10 hours into the trip, timed to match her waking. The effect would be to not only defeat her, but to humiliate her as well. In addition, her ass would be carefully stretched to accommodate my cock, or others as we saw fit, immediately upon arrival at our home.

Angela locked the belt in place as I retrieved the bar. Designed for us specifically, the bar had a padded four inch collar at one end and two padded three inch restraints at the other. The bar was only two feet long, but split so the restraints where two feet apart. I fit the collar around Lisa’s neck, covering the lacing for the hood and making sure it was both as snug as possible but also allowed for breathing. We then forced her legs back until the pivoting cuffs could be locked around her ankles. In this position she was absolutely immobile, bent back harshly. We lifted her up together and set her down on the padded insides of her crate.

Once snuggly filling the inside, we strapped her knees to the sides, spread wide, then Angela filled the spaces with packing popcorn while I fitted the nostril plugs. Small breathing hoses led to a series of hoses that had unobstructed holes on the outside of the box. The box was actually doubled layered so Lisa lay bound inside a much larger space, which we filled with some item we knew customs would never think twice about. The box was quickly filled with popcorn, obscuring any sight of Lisa and I nailed the lid on firmly. Once the outer container was filled we sealed it up and set sail for a shipping port on the other side of the island chain.

Part 2

As Angela released Lisa from the box after another two hours, I was concerned about the array of harsh red pricks on her soft skin. But upon closer examination, I could see they where only surface marks or slight punctures and would fade quickly. Lisa had experienced a number of violent orgasms that had rocked her against the spikes and yanked hard on her rings. I took a quick look while she lay exhausted on the floor. With Lisa we had perfected the perfect piercing. Rather than a simple hole punched through the soft tissue, we would pierce a type of grommet. The hole would be held open by a small channel of stainless steel through which we could place a number of rings or rods. Her nose was even more advanced. Two small plates of rounded edge steel had been measured and cut for each side of her septum. A larger hole toward the end of the septum, where a ring would normally go, was punched through the steel, it’s edges bent inward. A type of hole punch cut a rather wide hole in the nose and theses steel plates where fit to it. Smaller holes matched left to right, had been cut into the plates and a small rivet gun punched a strong rivet through both sides. After four rivets, the plate was permanently affixed to the septum. The larger hole, lined with steel as well, could be fit with any device, and was strong enough to nearly support her body weight.

I grabbed Lisa’s nose ring now and snapped my fingers for Taylor to clean her up. Taylor had been fully broken two years before and we had kept her as a full time slave since. She was a lovely blond with curly hair and a Midwestern look that seemed to accentuate the collar, chains and rings that adorned her now. As an obedient slave, she had followed Angela in to the dungeon and dropped to her knees. Now, she stepped up and took a hold of the leash I had chosen, snapping it to Lisa’s nose ring and leading her away to the baths. Both Taylor and Lisa teetered on their ballet boots, though unlike Taylor’s grace, Lisa was struggling to stay upright despite the renewed pain in her cramped toes. We had learned two things about Lisa, both when she had been locked into a stringent bondage position all night with Taylor. First, she felt humiliated most by the nose ring. It was the one thing that, when utilized, made her feel like an animal. Secondly, she felt even more abused when we had Taylor or another slave command her. It was for this reason that we made use of her nose ring as much as possible and quite often had Taylor administer her punishment. We certainly didn’t want to disappoint her!

Jennifer was the youngest slave we had recruited. Only 18, she was a dark haired beauty we hoped to sell for a good price. Currently she was enduring a stringent corset training. I yanked Lisa into the room where Jennifer was hanging, pushing her to her knees. Lisa’s wide eyed stare told the story. She was terrified of what she saw before her. Jennifer had been placed into her three layer rubber suit three weeks ago. Her entire body was covered in latex, from the tips of her ballet boots to the top of her head. She had been without sight or sound for the duration. She was hanging from her wrists in the center of the room, her ankles chained together and to the floor beneath her. The winch that held her taught was tightened daily, a running joke with Angela and I was that we would end up with a much taller slave in any case! Her body was like a guitar string and the muffled whimpers that escaped from her blow up gag where evidence of its effectiveness. But the most important device was that which was strapped from just below her breasts to her hips. A heavy rubber and steel boned corset was slowly being tightened around her waist. Original measurements had Jennifer’s waist at a 28. Not bad, but considering her ample 38D breasts, we knew a tiny waist would command a higher price. After the three weeks, we had managed to reduce her to a 19. Almost hourglass now, Angela was determined to get her to a 17. A special weight system was used to maintain constant tension on the steel lacings, while continually adding weight. A series of pulleys attached to a mechanical fulcrum that added about a half a pound of weight at specific intervals. We had started with 100 pounds of pressure, enough to cause her to cry, and I figured in my head the machine was placing about 400 pounds of pressure on her waist now. We were on the final corset so the gap in back represented the last 2 inches.

Lisa was frozen in fear, her eyes wide in terror that this could happen to her. We hadn’t decided if she deserved corset training. She barely noticed as I attached a set of steel cuffs to her ankles, chained her ankles to rings in the floor, then removed her collar and replaced it with a posture collar attached to the cuffs by a short steel bar. Her arms, still bound at wrist and elbow, tried to struggle as I locked the collar on and began turning a crank on the pole that now ran behind her back. Slowly the pole shortened, which pulled her head back, arching her back painfully. Once I felt I had the angle I wanted, I moved to the front and adjusted the collar. Slowly her chin was pushed up until she faced the ceiling. I quickly strapped the special rubber gag on her face, making sure that it was a tight seal over her mouth. I think she started suspecting her fate now as I took a hose attached to her gag and ran it to Jennifer’s catheter. We liked to keep Jennifer full at all times and she had held a full bladder for the entire day. I let the air out of the balloon and watched as her urine ran down the semi-transparent tube and into Lisa’s mouth. Tears began flowing down her face as she understood that she had no choice but to swallow. She had drank my urine before, and thus was accustomed to the vile taste, but I think she was humiliated by drinking another slave’s piss.

Finally, Jennifer was empty. I could see the relief rush across Lisa’s face, to quickly be replaced by fear again. I unhooked her hose and reattached it to Jennifer’s anal plug. Lisa tried to struggle but Taylor was holding her upright and the bondage was far too stiff to allow much escape. I turned the knob on the enema plug and watched as Jennifer’s enema water ran down the tube as well. She was screaming as she watched the brownish liquid run toward her mouth, knowing it would soon be swirling around her tongue and in her stomach. I spent the time ignoring her, making it less than an event, while examining Jennifer’s bound body. The posture collar held her neck completely rigid and the three layers of rubber hood and straps kept the blow up gag and eye pads in place. I set my hands at her new waist, amazed at the small measurement. Her youth made this a perfect time for corset training. Though it would be necessary to keep her in some form of corset for the rest of her life, her body was actually changing, reorienting itself to accommodate the constriction. In no time she would be permanently altered. Her breasts, despite their constriction beneath the rubber, really stood out in their splendor. I looked forward to having some fun with her before the sale.

I turned back to watch the last of the liquid run out of Jennifer. Lisa was crying as I watched her throat reluctantly swallow the final drops of what was most likely a horrible substance. Once I was sure she was finished, I replaced the feeding gag with two rubber wedges at the back of her teeth, holding her mouth open as wide as possible. I think she could tell it wasn’t over, but I don’t think she really knew. I attached a chain to either side of her collar and to the floor, removing any chance of her moving. I snapped my fingers for Taylor to standup. I whispered in her ear and she quickly backed up to Lisa’s bound form and squatted. I could really hear Lisa wail now as Taylor began pressing her ass against her mouth. It was a sight to be seen. A tall blonde slave girl with long shapely legs, rings piercing her body, teetering on ballet boots, squatting over the mouth of another slave. I couldn’t quite see what was happening, but from Lisa’s sounds and expression, I would guess that Taylor had relieved herself well. A mixture of piss and shit filled Lisa’s mouth as Taylor stood up again. I don’t think Lisa knew what to do. But eventually, as I petted Taylor on her knees again and watched, she knew there wasn’t anything she could do. Her tongue swirled the feces and urine around and I watched it slide down her throat.

Part 3

Our guests where to arrive that evening and we hurried to get things set up. Lisa had known that she was to be a special guest for tonight’s festivities, though she was unsure of how she would participate. Very quickly it became evident. The main dungeon space had been cleared, many chairs set up around the center of the room. Lisa was led into the middle. Angela untied her elbows then reattached two wrist cuffs that connected with a small ball joint. Her collar was replaced with a much heavier model and a cable from the ceiling was lowered behind her. As the cable was fed through a ring at the back of Lisa’s collar and connected to her wrists, Taylor was ordered to attach a chain to Lisa’s ballet boots and secure them to the floor. Soon, Angela was turning a crank and pulling the cable up, forcing her wrists to climb up her back. Lisa began crying in pain as her arms where inverted behind her, but Angela had made particular preparations to make sure she was flexible enough for this. As the crank turned, her wrists rose, until the last few clicks brought her wrists level with the back of the collar. A lock was placed through the collar ring and connected to the ball socket on the cuffs, locking Lisa’s arms off. I could see the twinkle in my wife’s eyes as she produced an additional strap, just as Lisa was coming to terms with the pain in her arms. The strap circled Lisa’s elbows and was pulled tight, forcing her lower arms closer together and wrenching her shoulders impossibly back.

Pulling the ball gag from her mouth, I unhooked her nose ring and fit a smaller ring through her septum grommet. Welded to the ring was a short rod that I fed into her mouth and through the grommet an inch from the tip of her tongue. Attaching a plate to the other end, under her tongue, I fit a small wrench onto it, and began to turn. The plate had a threaded attachment that extended up, forcing Lisa’s mouth open wider, using her nose as leverage. As her mouth reached its limit, I was sure the pain in her nose and jaw was excruciating. With another few cranks, I pulled out the key. Her mouth was now held open impossibly wide, while the rod captured her tongue. Luckily we made the grommet through her septum large. I fit another ring through it, then lowered a chain from the ceiling and attached it to the new ring, removing enough slack so it could support her without saving her from standing on her toes. Taylor unlocked the chains holding her ankles down and we backed away to admire our new slave in the light. It was a remarkable sight to behold. Lisa’s body had grown firm in training as we tasked her day and night. Her breasts stood proudly away from her chest as her tortured shoulders forced them out, the dual nipple rings gleaming in the light. She had separated her legs enough to gain balance and the result was a statuesque body with her ass poking out and her chin raised to the ceiling from the tug on the nose ring. If she weren’t crying slightly, she would look almost proud. From the front it looked like she had no arms. Angela had bound them so far back they disappeared behind Lisa’s shoulders.

We left her like this for the time being as we prepared for the party. After 2 hours, when the doorbell chimed in announcement of our first guest, Lisa had begun to whimper slightly from both her arm bondage and the pain in her toes. We ignored her, of course, and went to welcome our guests.

Mistress Madeline was first to arrive. We had the particular pleasure of an underground entrance and valet parking during events like this. So rather than having to hide anything, our guest would often arrive in full form, tugging a young slave behind them. This was no exception. Madeline was fond of animal training, often keeping her slave girls in a cat or dog outfit for as much as a year. She too had become proficient at kidnapping and had brought along two of her victims.

It was difficult to tell who they where. Covered in an impossibly tight rubber body suit, their arms had been doubled up, their wrists locked to shoulders, removing any use of the hands. The suits legs where designed short, so that only a bent arm could fit into it. Wide rubber straps clamped the arms together so they became a seamless limb. Each finger had been fed into a special glove that, when tightened, pulled each finger into a tight ball, removing any ability to flex. Then, the hand had been twisted to fit into the slave’s armpit, thus removing any visible evidence that this was not an animal’s limb. The suit had built in paws that helped create a brilliant illusion of a cat’s feet. Legs where similarly bound, though the length of the lower leg versus the thigh required some modification. The legs where doubled then forced into a single sleeve, but an added modification where wide straps at the end of the toes. The other end of the straps connected to the lower back, yanking the feet into an en pointe position, much like the ballet boots. An additional strap yanked the feet tightly together just around the slave’s ass, then were fitted with a rubber pouch with a length of stranded rubber sticking form it. The illusion was perfect. With the little motion the girls could move their bound feet, they could simulate the swishing of a cats tail. The custom suits fit like skin and had been bonded to their bodies at their asshole and pussy. It was interesting to examine how well the suits had been applied. The rubber was cut to the body so that a long tube fit into the anal canal, creating the illusion of an entire rubber person, while holding each hole wide. The appearance was a totally exposed sex doll, shaped into a cat. The final touch was the harsh hoods that fit snuggly to both girl’s heads. Tiny lenses allowed the slave’s to see, though the image was considerably distorted. Madeline told us it was much like a bug, upside-down and broken into numerous small images. Thin tubes seemed to disappear where the nose would be and the mouth, though harshly gagged with an inflatable rubber ball, seemed to have a feeding gasket fit into its core. Madeline was happy to share the fact that both girls had been hooded for over 6 months now, with only the ability to breath their own. Even the feeding tubes connected to force feeding devices once a day, with the opposite ends buried deep into the slaves’ stomachs.

It was strange to watch these two slaves make their way in. I knew that both had been in training for at least nine months, giving them plenty of time to learn their roles, but it was uncanny how believable they where. If it weren’t for the visible feet being pulled back and the sizable breasts both slaves had dangling beneath them, you would swear you were looking at a large cat.

Other, equally bizarre guests began to arrive, and Angela and I had trouble greeting them all. The usual group was assembling, with a few extras brought along in confidence by trusted members of the club. Doctor Mansa arrived in a flourish, towing his latest prize behind him. If only the A.M.A. knew, he would be burned at the stake. The last time we had seen Justine, she had been a demure 18 year old girl, innocent, young and freckled, just being introduced to the world of bondage and slavery by this wealthy and handsome doctor. She had agreed to let him try a few things on her, and now, after a year of experimentation, I was sure she was regretting it. His first experiment was in hormonal breast enlargement. Justine had been a petite girl, only 5’6” and 118 lbs., with 34B breasts. For the first 3 months of her “adjustments”, Mansa had locked her in a tiny steel box, forcing her to stand upright in ballet boots, with her arms bound severely behind her and large dildos on poles supporting her by way of her ass and pussy. A wide, steel posture collar kept her head immobile and a thick, leather hood blocked out all sight and sound. He had told us he actually tricked her into the box, telling her it was just a short test. His sadism shocked even us at times. For 3 months, Justine stood immobile, screaming in sheer terror into her gag, being fed through feeding tubes and her breathing fully controlled by a machine, while he fed her hormones to enhance her breast size. Upon release, her chest had grown to an amazing 40D, so large that the weight made it difficult to walk upright.

But the doctor wasn’t through. In an effort to reduce her waist, he removed two ribs from her, then fit her with a ratcheting steel corset that pulled her waist into a remarkable 16 inches. The months in ballet boots made it impossible to stand flatfooted any longer, so Mansa shortened Justine’s Achilles tendon permanently, removed her toe nails and fitted her feet with permanent steel ballet slippers. Designed to force the feet into a harsh point, the metal band at the bottom of the foot, extended from the toes to a wide ankle cuff that fit perfectly, then was welded onto Justine. The result was her inability to unflex her foot. And without the aid of any heel, she was forced to learn to walk on her steel covered toes.

Despite her protests, the doctor realized there was no turning back. Justine was already frantic from the major modifications her lover had performed on her. She was beginning to realize she would never return to the demure young girl she had been. Mansa had no intention of stopping, and despite her protests, had continued with his plan.

Now, watching him lead his slave in, I wondered if he could think of anything else to do to her. Her long, lean frame was extended even further by her now permanent ballet stance. Mansa had added a short four inches of chain, welded between her ankle cuffs, to prevent any large strides, as if that were possible. Her waist was impossibly tiny, and now permanently tightened by the steel corset she wore. He had told me how the corset was built with steel tension bands, thus exerting a continual pressure on her waist despite the fact that the corset was now welded onto her waist. The corset could actually close, due to the bands, to a 4 inch waist. Though her body would never conform to that shape, Justine would forever feel the constant and painful pressure against her waist. Her huge breasts were beautiful, especially with the added banding he had put on them. Two inch wide steel bands with sharp metal spikes on the inside had been forced around the base of Justine’s breasts, then riveted shut. The result was to turn her tits a constant shade of red. Not too much to be a danger, but enough to increase sensitivity and provide a unique color to her massive tits. Her arms had been forced into a similar position as Lisa’s, but I could tell Justine’s had been mounted in position permanently. I once asked him why he didn’t just surgically remove her arms. Mansa noted with a smile that he preferred that she know she still had arms, but would never use them again.

Other more traditional guests began to arrive, and I made sure they all had a chance to examine Lisa. With the extreme nature of our friends, even their comments as they argued over her possible modifications caused new tears to flow down her cheeks. But soon everybody had been seated, and served drinks by Taylor. I watches as Angela took a deep breath and marched out in front, smiling at her friends.
“Thank you so much for coming tonight,” she smiled again, then moved to walk around Lisa. “As you can see, we have a new slave with us tonight. As you know, we like to play games at our little gatherings, and this night is no exception. As you enjoy your drinks, a small box will be handed around. Each person is to fill out on a small piece of paper, a particular torture or modification that we can perform on Lisa. Then, we will draw five of these from the hat and actually do them. Remember, it has to be something we can do this evening, and my only requirement is that we don’t remove any limbs!” Angela laughed with the others, but she could see Dr. Mansa almost frown in disappointment.

“So, take a few moments to come up with your worst and we’ll start shortly!” Angela smiled again and turned back to Lisa, fitting her finger through Lisa’s right nipple ring. “You think you’ve felt pain up ‘till now. Wait until tonight.” With a twist that brought a wail from Lisa, Angela moved away, hoping that her sadistic friends would do her proud.

The End

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

Comments Off

COUNTRY GIRL [Stig]

COUNTRY GIRL

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

ANITA THE COUNTRY GIRL

AND THE HOUSE OF CORRECTION

by Stig

The crop in the fields was badly damaged by early storms, and Jan Fohlstrom worked long hours in the fields to save whatever remained undamaged before the next storm would finish off the rest of the harvest. Jan Fohlstrom was a poor but proud farmer. Ever since they moved out to these domains in 1898 he had somehow succeeded to provide for his family. He looked at his wife and firstborn daughter, Anita, who was already in her upper teens, helping him on the field.

"Anita, could you please fetch us some water I think we should finish this part of the fields today and it will be late before we can have any supper," he said to his daughter who was working right beside him.

"Yes of course, father." Anita walked the half mile to the spring water well feeling quite thirsty herself too. As she had left her parents at the far end of the fields, Jan Fohlstrom had looked at his daughter when she walked away, seeing how gracefully she moved across the rough land, the soft, round contours of her hips moving gently back and forth under the gray cotton skirt.

"Yes she had sure grown up to be a real beauty,Ф he thought with warmth in his heart as he turned to continue his work.

Anita had really become quite beautiful and grown-up during the past two years. The farmers daughter had become a young woman, a woman the hard work at the farm had moulded into a strong and well fit, healthy girl. Her blonde, long hair was tied with a ribbon at her neck and she held her head high, breathing in the cool, fresh evening breeze. She had worked hard that afternoon, and feeling quite warm she opened the three top buttons of her blouse to allow the breeze cool down her warm skin.

She was lowering the bucket into the well when she suddenly heard someone approaching on horseback.

"Hello, Anita the storm did quite a damage to your crop too I heard hey, let me help you with that ! The handsome young man jumped off his horse and hoisted up the heavy water filled bucket.

"Here you are...!

"Thank you, Peter " Anita said looking at the most handsome boy smiling at her. This was in fact the first time she had been so close to Peter Crawford, the son of the richest man in the territory.

Although being neighbors, they knew each other by name only, not socially. In those days the wide social gap between the families prevented this - the landlords and the peasants did not have much in common. Anita suddenly realized that the top buttons of her blouse was open, showing slightly the forms of her deliciously rounded bosom.

It was Peters eyes that made her suddenly realize the disorder in her outfit, and feeling suddenly most embarrassed she covered herself with her left arm.

The young, handsome man mounted his horse and waving his hand he rode off just as quickly as he had appeared. Anita watched him disappear and realized that she was blushing and that her heart was beating faster than normally. All the way back across the fields she could think of nothing else but Peter Crawford, her sparkling blue eyes shining bright in the evening sun. Anita Fohlstrom had fallen secretly in love.

The days and weeks passed and Anita had turned 18, when her father announced that during the day he had worked for the Crawford estate, the Baron had promised Anita a position as a maid -if she accepted. The pay would be modest, but in spite of that, this was something her parents had been hoping for. It is easy to bring up children when they are small, but what to do when they become of age? Poor people does not have many options.

Anita wanted to jump into the air, filled with joy over the news. Neither her father nor her mother knew anything about her short meeting with Peter Crawford at the well a few months ago. She had not been near him since, but the afternoons were countless when she had leaned against the fence nearby the Crawfords house - well hidden behind some bushes - hoping to catch a glimpse of Peter. When he sometimes finally showed up, AnitaТs heartbeat became faster and an unexplainable urge of heat in her young body caused her nipples to grow until they were real hard, standing out like ripe, pink berries beneath the rough cotton blouse, whilst the sensational moist feeling between her legs made her cross her thighs and a pulsating restlessness crawl up inside her.

But Anita Fohlstrom knew how to deal with this. Leaning against the sturdy wooden stake of the fence she opened up the top button of her skirt, just enough for her hand to slip underneath her garments and down over the warm skin of her belly, and when her finger finally reached the wetness of her sex she started to shake and sob uncontrollably. Afterwards she felt relieved but at the same time somehow guilty...like caught eating from the forbidden tree like Eve.

But now she was suddenly given the chance to be close to Peter. She was to report at the estate next Monday morning at eight o'clock sharp, that was the arrangement.

"As she is still under age, under 21 that is, you must as her legal guardian sign this contract, Mr Fohlstrom, which places her completely in our charge for the year the contract is valid. If she proves to be a good maid, the contract can be prolonged for one year at the time until she reaches the age of 21 and can thereafter naturally sign for herself if the contract is to be prolonged after that period. Is this clear and all right with you, Mr. Fohlstrom?"

"Yes, of course, thank you Sir where do I sign, here?"

"Yes... thank you Mr. Fohlstrom", said the Baron, and placed the signed contract in a drawer in his desk. Anita stood behind her father, dressed in her very best clothes, feeling slightly nervous in the expensively furnished, luxurious study of old Baron Crawford.

The total amount of money for the first year of service was given to Jan Fohlstrom, because, as the Baron said, she would not be needing any money there. Everything she personally would be needing could be provided at the estate. And she could always visit her home at her spare time if she wanted to.

"Are you sure you don't want a part of this for yourself?" Her father asked her, ready to give her a part of the money.

"No, father, as the Baron said, I will have everything I need here, you keep it all, please", Anita said. Anita had never had any money of her own and would very much have wanted some, just to have some real money of her own, but she did not want to give the Baron the picture of a greedy and selfish girl, at least not now during their very first meeting.

"You do your very best now, girl..." Jan Fohlstrom said before he left, leaving Anita standing there with her heart beating.

The Baron sat silent behind his desk for a moment and then looked up at her.

"You know, my girl...you can consider yourself a gift a gift to my son Peter because it was he who insisted to have you employed as a maid... even if we don't really need any more maids at the estate this time of the year..." he said.

"Oh!" This was the only thing Anita could say, feeling very confused and quite humiliated by the Barons words. She had never thought about herself as a...gift! The more she thought about the Barons words, the more humiliated she felt. She was not someoneТs property she was a human being, a fine, young woman! She could feel the heat burning her ears and her face turned slowly scarlet.

"Sir what do you mean by me being a gift to your son?"

"Just what I said, girl...but I also wanted to help your father, who is a good craftsman and a good neighbor, but don't think this is charity from my side, we Crawfords have not become rich by giving our money away to everyone in need, you really have to earn the money, girl! Now go and report to the housekeeper, she is expecting you!"

The happiness and joy Anita Fohlstrom had felt when she arrived to the Crawford Mansion in the morning with her father did slowly turn into a feeling of unrestfulness. In her girlish dreams she had expected to be welcomed by the Crawfords and specially by Peter in a polite and neighborly manner, but she had found out that young master Crawford had gone to the city early in the morning and was not expected back for some days. She had also learned in a crude way the difference between the rich and the poor, the masters and the servants - the facts of life a 18-year old girl like Anita had known nothing about living the sheltered life at the farm and under the loving care of her parents.

The housekeeper, Mrs Brunell, who was a rather fat woman in her late forties, had provided her with a maids uniform, into which Anita had to change in front of her in the small linen room behind the kitchen.

"Don't tell me you are shy!" Anita had an exceptionally well proportioned feminine body she could be proud of, but to undress herself in front of a strange woman made her embarrassed and she was trying to cover herself as well as she could between the shelves in the linen room.

"Well, at least you have a strong, mature body for a 18-year old, ...I am sure young master Crawford will enjoy that! Be sure you fuck him good, because I don't want to break in new girls every second fortnight!"

The absurdity of her words made Anita stop dressing and she stared at the fat, greasy looking woman with disbelief in her wide open blue and with her ears burning hot.

"Madame what do you mean by...that ?"

"You heard me the first time! Don't give me that innocent look and tell me you didn't know! Everyone knows that Peter likes his girls young and fresh and if I am correctly informed, it was he who asked his father to have you here to enjoy. The Baron approves fully because it is much cheaper this way than if Peter would spend their family fortune on the harlots of the town! If you play your cards right you have the possibility to benefit from the situationЕ at least you have the figure for it..."

The words made Anita feel that her value as a human being was even cheaper than a whore's, and found it hard to suppress the growing anger and the extreme humiliation that was building up inside her.

УI am not...here toЕ I was hired to work as a maid! ...Nothing else!" Anita whispered in a hoarse voice, her face turning slowly from pink to red. All this time she had been daydreaming of a romance with the handsome Peter Crawford, where she would surely and willingly submit herself to him when and if he asked her to marry him... but never like this! Not just to be shamefully used! Not the way the housekeeper indicated!

Suddenly she got the feeling that Mrs Brunell was just testing her, testing her morals.

She somehow thought that it was the housekeeperТs duty - being in charge of all the maids and everything - to ensure herself that all servants of the Mansion were both morally and otherwise fit to serve a highly respected household like the Crawfords.

"Mrs Brunell, let me assure you that I am a decent, modest person, and I will serve as a maid to my best ability, and I hope you will be pleased with my work " Anita said, looking the housekeeper straight in the eyes.

"Of course you must carry out the maids duties too, and it is my job to see that you do so I am just telling you that your body is better than many of the previous girls we have had here and that young master Crawford will be very pleased to see that lustful body of yours and hopefully also pleased with your services as a maid. I am just telling you what the future holds in store for you, young lady, and I am also telling you that it is no use to resist the young master, because then you'll just be taken upstairs and punished! And I know that young master Crawford enjoys to tame girlies like you -he even has a room at the attic for this purpose."

Anita swallowed. Mrs Brunell was not testing her. She was simply telling her what she had to prepare herself for! However, the mere thought that if she refused Peter to take liberties with her she would end up in a room in the attic and punished!

Anita found the whole situation so absurd and humiliating that she did not know what to say, and a suppressed laugh filled with shame beyond belief escaped her lips.

"He can't punish me. I am a free woman, it is not right!"

"Your father signed the contract, didn't he? That means that the Crawfords can do anything to you so there is no use to pout your lower lip, girl and take my advise handle your cards right and benefit from it! Now get dressed!"

AnitaТs first days at the Crawford estate were filled with learning a number of work routines and different tasks she had to master if she desired to be a good maid. Beside her work duties she also learned to know the other servants of the Mansion, 14 in all.

She learned quickly - bright in her head as she was -but she did miss a few details here and there mainly because her mind was puzzled with questions and thoughts.

The housekeeper had certainly succeeded in causing her mind a restlessness which was hard to define, and the thoughts about her forthcoming destiny caused her many sleepless hours. She really wanted to ask some of the other maids if these matters told about Peter were true, but she was too ashamed to raise the questions.

The day Peter Crawford was expected home Anita felt restless.

"Why are your hands trembling?" one of the other maids had asked her during the breakfast. Anita did not answer her, because at that moment Peter entered the servants quarters while they were still having their meal. Everyone stood up when he came in. That was the way the servants showed courtesy to the masters of the house. That had always been the way at the Crawford Mansion. As Anita looked at Peter at this close distance he looked even more handsome in his well fitting grey suit than she had remembered. A thousand memories rushed through her head - her secret moments behind the bushes of the fence, her young, hot blood pulsating in her veins -the warnings Mrs Brunell had given her- everything she sensed confused her and she had to take in a deep breath to stay calm.

The fact that every servant, young and old, had stood up as he came in did naturally add something to his authority, and Anita knew that he would not take a "no" for an answer if he gave an order to some of the servants.

"Mrs Brunell, I would like to have a very early breakfast tomorrow, around 6.30..."

"Of course, Master Peter, 6.30 it shall be and do you perhaps like the new maid to bring it up to you?" she added, knowing Peter all too well. She knew for certain that he had not came to the servants quarters just to ask for an early breakfast, he had come to see his new toy, Anita.

Peter gave Mrs Brunell a look, smiling, because he too knew that she had seen him through, knowing all his manners, both good and bad. She always had, ever since he had been a small boy. Despite her fatty and greasy outer appearance he somehow liked the woman, because she did not disapprove with his sometimes questionable habits with the girls at the estate, nor did she ever let him down in tight situations. Peter assumed that Mrs Brunells loyalty was partly based on her calculation that the Baron would soon be gone and he would then be the head of the Crawford family, making all the decisions -also regarding the personnel, but there was also something else...

"Ah, yes the new maid!" Peter said looking at Anita, approaching her. Anita did not know what to do, where to look, she just realized to her embarrassment that she was starting to blush.

"You are Anita -Jan Fohlstroms daughter, right?" he said, as if he did not know.

УYes." Her answer escaped her like a whisper.

"You address him as Master Peter or Sir", said Mrs Brunell.

Anita cleared her throat.

"Yes, Master Peter," she said while her fingers fumbled at the gray cotton material of the side seams of her skirt.

"Ah I remember we have met before and I must really get to know you better. Could you come to the library in 30 minutes so we could have a talk, eh?"

"Yes, Master Peter ", Anita said. She did not dare to look straight at him and her eyes wandered all over the room and the floor.

"Very good ", Peter said and left

AnitaТs hands trembled nervously as she precisely 30 minutes later knocked on the door to the library. During this passed half hour she had stayed in her room, because she was too tense and also too excited to handle any tasks. She had brushed her hair at least three times, wanting to look her very best when she met Peter, on the other hand she walked forward and back in her small room like a captured animal, biting her finger nails. The suspense was almost unbearable...she was soon to be alone with Peter Crawford...

"Come in!" As expected, Peter was alone in the library.

"Ah Anita Fohlstrom come over here let me look at you," he said and pointed at a spot in the floor right in front of him.

Anita did as she was told and walked up in front of him. She did not dare to look him in the eyes. They both stood there in silence for a few seconds before Peter went to the library door and locked it.

"We don't want to be disturbed, do we?" He said with a salacious grin, placing the key into the pocket of his west.

"You are quite a good looking girl, Anita it is all right if I just call you Anita, isn't it?" He said and seated himself in a huge armchair right in front of her.

"Yes it is all right...Sir..." Anita said and swallowed.

She had never felt as nervous as she did now, all her senses tingling alert while Peter eyed her all over as she stood there right in front of him.

"Do you have any boyfriends a fiancй' or something?" He asked suddenly.

"No Sir."

"Then I suppose you have never been naked in front of a young man, have you, Anita?"

"Oh Sir!" Anita wanted to sink down trough the floor or disappear into thin air. She could feel her heart start to beat faster and she could not prevent her face turning scarlet. She finally realized that everything she had been told about Peter could be true, and even if she felt trapped, she could feel sensational shivers running down her spine, feelings that she could not explain...

"As I told you, you are a good looking girl and I want to see you not like this, but in the nude! That's why I locked the door so we can have the privacy. So Anita, please take off your clothes, now!" Peter said slowly, feasting his eyes on the lustful forms of the beautiful girl in front of him.

Anita swallowed and felt a desperate need to escape.

"No...Sir...I cannot bare myself here not in front of you! ItЕ it is not decentЕ it is not right!" AnitaТs voice was trembling.

"If your Master tells you to strip your clothes off, you strip your clothes off, Anita! I hope I have made myself clear!" Peter said with a dark voice

Anita did not move. She just stood there like frozen to the spot, her cheeks turning more and more crimson.

"...I will not strip in front of you " she whispered with a panic-stricken voice.

Peter raised himself up from the chair and approached her.

"You either do as I say or you leave this house now! Tell your father to return the payment he received by tomorrow at nine o'clock in the morning!" There was a moment of silence.

"Please Sir I I can't..." Anita whispered.

"Can't make up your mind, eh?" Peter said and opened the door to the library.

"Get out!"

Anita had flung herself face down on her bed in her room, her eyes filled with tears.

In her troubled mind she knew that her situation was impossible. She knew that her father could not return the money because they had agreed before she left home that he would immediately use her salary advance to pay off the due debts at the local merchant, who had given them extended credit for quite some time.

And Jan Fohlstrom had paid the debts already the same day Anita entered her position at the Crawford Mansion. If she went home now...she knew that her parents would fully accept her decision as soon they learned the reason, but at the same time she would put her father in a terrible situation with the Baron he could even be put in jail! Who would then provide for the whole family? And all only because she refused to remove some garments in her girlish embarrassing modesty !?

Mrs Brunell had just gone to bed when she heard the knock on her door. Irritated by this disturbance at the late hour she wrapped herself in a blanket and opened the door.

"Anita! You look terrible! Have you been crying?"

"Madame please...can I come in?" When Anita had told her story, Mrs Brunell raised from her chair.

"Well in that case I think I must dress and go Peter and tell him about your decision.

That is the only way you may keep your position here, my girl. But he may not want you any more...the Crawfords are not usually changing their minds after a decision has been made" Mrs Brunell told Anita to wait just where she was and went to see Peter Crawford, hoping he still was awake.

AnitaТs face was crimson as she stood stark naked near the corner in the punishment room upstairs. She tried in her desperate embarrassment to cover her breasts and the hairy triangle shaped bush with her hands as well as she could.

After she was ordered to strip herself completely nude in front of Peter and Mrs Brunell she had not been allowed to keep a single thread to cover up her nudity except her knee high stockings and the ankle high laced shoes. From knees up Anita Fohlstrom was bare, showing her young, tall and deliciously rounded body to Peter. The young man eyed her, amused about her visible shyness and modest gestures to cover her trembling white flesh from his lustful gaze.

"So you accept the punishment for disobedience?"

"Yes Sir " Anita whispered, holding her head lowered in submission and her ears burning of shame.

"For a young girl like you it will be the birch rod...just one single rod."

"Yes...Sir "

"Madame please lower the restraint bar," Peter said, and Mrs Brunell released a rope which was attached to a metal pipe hoisted up under the ceiling. The bar came down, hanging from a sturdy metal hinge fastened to the ceiling. The lower end of the pipe was hanging freely at the level of their faces. This lower end had a collar strap and a short crossbar attached to it, like a big T-letter turned upside down.

Mrs Brunell took a ladder and made some additional ceiling fastenings to the hanging pipe, making it stabile.

"Fasten her," Peter said when the ladder was removed.

Anita had with a glimpse of panic in her eyes watched the preparations with the pipe and the leather collar. They were going to tie her up...restrain her so she could not escape the punishment!

"Come on, girl or do you want to change your mind once again eh?" Mrs Brunell said, taking a firm grip at AnitaТs upper arm and dragging the desperate, naked girl to the pipe.

Standing naked in the middle of the room Anita's head was pushed against the sturdy, vertical pipe and the leather collar placed around her neck. It was a wide collar made of thick leather with three small buckles. During the time it took for Mrs Brunell to fasten the collar properly, Anita continued her desperate efforts to cover her embarrassing nudity with her hands because Peter stood right in front of her.

"Do you think Master Peter have not seen a naked girl before?" Mrs Brunell smirked at her when she went to a cupboard and took out a screwdriver.

"Now you do exactly as I tell you, Anita, or you'll be sorry! At the back of the pipe, right behind your head, there are two small holes, two metal thumb cuffs...lift your arms and place your thumbs into the holes do you understand? Put your hands behind your head! Now!"

AnitaТs red-hot face grew even more crimson.

"Madame...please..." she whimpered, pressing her hands tightly against her bare breasts and the pubis hairs. From the corner of her eye she could see Peter smiling.

"I said NOW!" Mrs Brunell said, now more loudly and with quite some authority in her voice.

Anita closed her eyes and lifted her trembling hands towards her face, then backwards until she felt the metal pipe, hiding her burning, hot cheeks between her upper arms.

"Wrong! You know there is a crossbar at the back of your head, don't you? You raise your arms first sideways so that your elbows goes b e h i n d the bar, then you move your hands behind the pipe! Do you understand now?"

Anita did as she was told. With her neck fastened in the heavy collar, she had to arch her back and push her chest forward stretching her arms way back behind the crossbar. In this position her young, firm breasts were jutted out into full exposure. Anita had big, pink nipples, now standing vigorously out in full erection, partly because of the cold air in the room but mostly because she was every second that passed fully aware that Peter stood right in front of her, looking and her nude body. She could see his eager eyes wandering downwards below her waist, but since she did not dare to lower her hand for protection, she crossed one thigh over the other in a modest but futile attempt to hide her maiden pubis hairs. Crossing her thighs close together she realized that her inner thighs were slippery from the increasing moisture in her crotch. Anita's red-hot blushing spread way down to her upper chest.

"Ooh...no " she moaned and tried to turn her face aside, but the heavy collar prevented her from this relief too.

With a slightly forceful assistance of Mrs Brunell Anita's thumbs were fully inserted into the two small metal holes with a screw mechanism.

"Now hold your hands still!" she said, taking the screwdriver, and the metal rings closed tightly and slowly around AnitaТs upper thumbs until she had no chance to free herself.

"There...!"

"Thank you, Madame...by the way, did you bring the birch rod?" Peter asked.

"Yes, Sir...I put it in water right here behind the cupboard" Mrs Brunell said, bringing it to Peter. It was a long, freshly cut rod from a young birch tree, halfway thick as a finger and very sturdy, narrowing towards the flexible, tiny tip.

"Thank you...well, it is late, so you can leave us now, Madame, and have your well deserved rest. I can personally deal with the girl quite well."

"Very well, Master Peter good night!" Mrs Brunell said casting a last glance at the voluptuously rounded naked young girl standing helplessly restrained in the middle of the room, she left, closing the door behind her.

"She has quite a well sized ass like a grown up lady...he would have been most disappointed if she really would have left," Mrs Brunell thought as she walked down the stairs to her bedroom.

The darkness of the night covered the Crawford Mansion in its veil except for a tiny beam of light zipping through the curtains from one of the small windows in the attic. Peter had turned on every gaslight in the punishment room to have a better look at Anita.

"You said you would take any punishment from me -or whatever I decide to do to you if you will be allowed to stay, didn't you, Anita?" Peter walked slowly around the naked girl, enjoying the lush, feminine contours of her healthy, young body. The breasts stood firmly and lustfully out with the nipples erecting hard in full size, the white bare flesh of her belly moving with every breath. AnitaТs narrow waist widening downwards into the broadening hips and full sized buttocks certified that she had long ago transformed from a young girl into full womanhood.

"Well, didn't you?" asked Peter again, now standing close in front of her.

"Yesss...ssSirЕ" Anita hissed, her heart beating fast.

When Peter had switched on all the bright lights in the room after Mrs Brunell had gone, displaying her nakedness in full, the embarrassment had caused her goose skin all over her body. And worse, she felt the tingling heat building up between her legs increase when she almost felt Peters eyes focusing on that particular part of her body. She could feel her moisture smearing her inner thighs all the way down to her knees.

Even if Anita had closed her eyes she knew that Peter had moved behind her. The strap around her heck prevented her from twisting her head and look back, but her senses were alert when she suddenly felt Peter touching the bare skin of her waist. A nervous quiver followed by an immediate rising of goose skin soon covering her entire body, she sighed loudly with a hissing sound.

"Anita, ever since I saw you at the water well I have thought about you quite often," Peter confessed while he was moving his hands upwards to AnitaТs chest.

Her reaction was spontaneous, but her desperate effort to escape his obvious intension to touch her bared breasts was useless. Anita tried to free her hands, writhing her upper body like an eel, but she only hurt her thumbs. Realizing that she was not able to prevent him from touching her bared breasts, a series of cold shivers run down her spine and her nipples grew hard as raw, big berries.

"HHHHH...hhhЕ PleaseЕ no SirЕ nooЕ", Anita whispered as his hands cupped her firm breasts, exploring, caressing her gently.

When he started to roll her hard nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, Anita begun to squirm and her fast breathing hissed through her nostrils.

"HHHhhhhiiiiiЕ hhhhhiiЕ" she hissed. Anita had never been touched like that by any boy before, and the deep crimson color in her face showed that in normal circumstances she would never have allowed any boy to fondle her tits the way Peter did now. Anita considered her breasts as a very intimate and sensitive part of her body, but there was nothing she could do to prevent this. In spite of the humiliation and shame to be treated like this, she also realised that other feelings were about to take over. When she squirmed and rugged her thighs together, she could feel the lubrication of her slippery moisture running down her inner thighs, but there was nothing she could do about that either.

"HHHHHH hhhh ЕPlease... nooo " Anita had kept her eyes closed during her ordeal, but now her eyes suddenly opened wide up and her face got an expression of panic as she could feel PeterТs hand traveling gently downwards over her naked skin. She begun to twist and wriggle her body in all directions, crossing and clamping her thighs tightly together when Peter had moved his right hand down over her belly and was touching the harsh, curly pubis hairs. Her legs started to shake when he forced one finger deeper down and felt the pulsating moisture in her clit. In desperation Anita tried once more to free her hands from the restraints when Peter pinched her left nipple with his other hand but there was no escape.

"HhhhhhhoooЕ hhhhhЕ" She panted again when she could feel his finger move inside her slippery, wet clit and all muscles in her body, from her toes to her fingertips, strained into a trembling mass of white flesh. The sensational feeling -a mixture of the ultimate humiliation and the tingling heat between her legs- caused her involuntary memories of the times she had been masturbating behind the fence to the Crawford estate, and those flashbacks of memories just made her juices in her young pussy increase to the point from where there was no return. Peter continued to move his finger inside her, and she could not prevent her thighs from rubbing and pressing together in a most exiting manner.

"Hhhhhhhhhh...hhhhhhЕ", she uttered, feeling the broad leather collar forcing her to keep her head up. With her arms and hands immobilized, Anita's naked body was totally displayed for PeterТs exploring hands, and at the very slightest movement of his finger, long quivering spasms and shivers run constantly through her young flesh.

When Peter suddenly withdrew his finger, letting it glide along the hardened clitoris, AnitaТs whole body started to vibrate uncontrollably. The blood pulsated hot through her veins, and she knew that if Peter would continue to finger her dripping clit, she would have an orgasm within seconds. But he removed his finger.

Oooh, my God...don't stop n o w !, she wanted to cry out in her state of heat as the spasms of her young, hot urge made her flesh writhe within the bonds.

"Hhhhhhhhh...hhhhhhhhhh..." Anita panted, biting her lover lip.

"Wow...you are quite a hot and wet one, you slut! But I like it", Peter said smiling.

"But you are not here in this room for pleasure, you are here to be punished for disobedience!"

"Hhhhh hhhhЕ", Anita still gasped, left there in a turmoil state of mind on the border zone of a rising orgasm that never was to be culminated.

"I think I must tie you legs so you don't kick me,", Peter said picking up a strap with a buckle. Kneeling down, he passed it twice around AnitaТs ankles, around the high heeled boots she still was wearing. Then Peter rolled down her stockings all the way down to her ankles caressing her long, shapely legsЕ

"Real nice, strong legs you got, girl."

Anita breathed heavily when Peter took the long, flexible birch twig and took position behind her at her right. He stared with fascination at the well proportioned forms of her milk-white buttocks, swelling lustfully out from the small of her back. He noticed that her flesh quivered nervously, and that her buttocks did their best to contract from his gaze. As he had tied her ankles, he had forced her legs slightly backwards and fastened them to a ring in the floor, making her arch her back and present her feminine behind in a most efficient tip-toe position for the rod.

"So, now you will taste a little of the Crawford discipline, which you certainly will be remembering for some time", Peter smirked and raised the rod.

The muscles in AnitaТs calves and thighs tightened and her buttocks vibrated visibly when the rod came whizzing down across her white, unprotected flesh, making a cracking sound.

There was a short smothered gasp of agony as the stinging pain of the lash reached her brain, then her hips suddenly twisted and turned in a violent movement left and right while her buttocks started to quiver, clasping, and open up and closing again under the surprising hard, stinging agony.

"sssSSSS...hhhoooooo...ooh nooo..." she gasped, her eyes wide open, almost choking herself on the collar that held her firmly in position. Anita had never been whipped before.

And is was more terrifying than she ever could have imagined. Her parents had never chastised their children physically, so her white, soft bare skin was virginally tender. A red stripe with a slight swelling lined the white milky flesh of her trembling buttocks.

"No please nooЕ not again", Anita pleaded in a hoarse, whispering voice as she had to thrust her hips backwards again in the tip-toe position in order to avoid the choking effect of the tight collar around her neck. From the corner of her eye she could see Peter raise the rod again, and in despair she shifted her weight from one toe to the other, the white flesh of her violently quivering buttocks pouting out in a perfect position to receive the next swishing sting of the lash.

The whippy, thin rod whistled and landed across the quivering flesh, just below the first, red line.

"AAAAhhhhoooooo ooooooooo noooo!!!Ф

The terrible pain made Anita to once more wriggle and twist her body in all directions and her stinging buttocks bouncing wildly around, she tried in desperation to free her thumbs once more, her elbows drumming onto the cross pipe that held them back and her breasts jutting madly in the air. But soon she realised she was unable to breathe and that her thumbs hurt quite badly, she had to resume her degrading tiptoed position and present her trembling, bare buttocks for the cruel rod.

Peter smirked. Anita would certainly be brought to her knees and submit herself to all his wishes. When he raised the rod again he could see the flesh of her buttocks starting to vibrate in a most uncontrollable manner. He held back the rod to watch the trembling vibration increase and spread all over her body. As Anita suddenly realized that he did not bring down the rod, the shaking stopped and her buttock halves opened suddenly wide up from their hard, contracted condition. Then Peter lashed down the rod ...and watching her reaction made the bulk in his trousers grow bigger.

It was half past two in the morning Anita was lying face down sobbing on her bed in her room. She had rubbed the lineament Peter had given her into her sore, swollen red buttocks.

Her thumbs were swollen too, but the physical discomfort was nothing compared with the degrading humiliation and mental stress she was going through. Her embarrassment and shame during the ordeal had been worse than she could have imagined, and another burst of tears wetted her pillow and her blushing cheeks. How she had wriggled and squirmed her naked body in front of Peter! And he had touched her right there! Anita could not resist to move her hand down to her still hot and juicy, pulsating sex and touch herself where Peter had touched her, and in a few seconds a violent orgasm took all remaining strength out of her body. Still sobbing, Anita fell asleep, lying face down with her hand beneath her and her finger still inside her

She woke up a little bit too late, and rushed down to the kitchen in a hurry. She knew that Mrs Brunell was very strict concerning the working hours for the staff. The other maids were already on duty, and Anita could immediately see their glances and hear their giggling when she entered. In seconds AnitaТs face turned scarlet. News seemed to travel fast in this household. She wanted to sink through the floor and disappear into thin air when Mrs Brunell told her to take her well whipped ass into the linen room and start her work.

The liniment she had got from Peter seemed to work amazingly fast, and in two days the last marks on AnitaТs buttocks disappeared.

"Don't bother yourself to listen to all gossip and giggling, all of the maids have gone through the same as you, and many of them more than once!" Mrs Brunell told her when she found Anita crying in the linen room. Her words did help, and soon she was able to look the staff in the eyes again.

Anita had just accepted her fate and tried to forget her humiliating ordeal, she was even able to serve dinner in front of the Crawfords without turning pining red in her face when she saw Peter. This evening the Crawfords had a guest at the dinner table, a young lady, Miss Hazel Devon.

Miss Devon was the daughter of a wealthy politician, and there had been some talks within the families about a possible marriage between Hazel and Peter. This idea of marriage was brought forward more from Hazels side of the family, and also by Hazel herself - but as Peter did not particularly like the rich, spoiled lady - no date for any marriage had been set.

During her stay at the Crawford estate, while questioning one of the maids about Peter, Hazels suspicion was raised that Peter fancied one of the servant girls, Anita Fohlstrom.

Filled with suppressed rage, she came to the conclusion that this particular little bitch was nothing but a fortune-hunter of easy virtue, a common whore who did not know her place in society! She also came to the conclusion that this peasant concubine was the reason for Peters lack of interest in her! And that she -Miss Hazel Devon - had a rival, and more so, a common service girl - made her furious. She decided to certainly do something about it!

It did take some planning, but Hazel succeeded in convincing the Baron -and Peter- to order Anita Fohlstrom to accompany her to the city, where she was to serve as a maid in the Devon household for some time, because they had just "lost" a maid, and "good maids are so hard to find now-a-days", at least until they found a replacement. Hazel Devon promised that Anita would be back at the Crawford estate in two or three weeks - and she offered a handsome amount of money to the Baron for this kind assistance. And the Crawfords were more than happy to help her, business-minded as they were.

Two days later Hazel Devon was having tea with one of her father's layers, a man whose reputation among the attorneys in the city was at least questionable because of his shrewdness and tendency for operating behind the scene of the law. A lawyer politicians sometimes need for their dirty work.

"So you need this maid to be trapped into some criminal act and sentenced to a correctional institution? Is that what you are saying?" the lawyer asked her.

"Yes. I want this bitch to suffer...in the very worst kind of penitentiary ! Don't ask me why, it is a personal matter", Hazel said. "And you will naturally be rewarded above the normal fee ".

УAll right as a favor to you, my dear ".

Anita had never been in the big city before, and she enjoyed the streets, the shops and all the people with all her senses alert as she walked down the narrowing street in her new, beautiful dress Hazel had bought her on their day of arrival. The blue satin dress with all the ribbons and frills made her really feel like a lady. The dress was somehow a little too short and revealing in her opinion, but she was told that it was the latest fashion and it made her look very beautiful, and that she certainly had the figure for it.

She looked once again for the address written on the envelope she was supposed to deliver, and found it Hotel Belinda

"There she is...now go!" the lawyer said to two detectives who had been waiting in a carriage on the other side of the street.

Hotel Belinda, well known as a local brothel, was raided now and then by the police, and all the girls arrested for their unlawful conducts. Anita did not really know what was happening, but a few minutes after she had entered the hotel, she found herself forcefully pushed into a barred police carriage together with a number of other women. Some minutes later they were all thrown into the cells of the police station. There, imprisoned together with a number of other young women Anita Fohlstrom finally learned that she had been arrested for prostitution!

"The Judge will just make you pay the fine, and off you go", the other girls enlightened her "pretty dress you got there ...new around here, eh?"

The next morning when all the girls were lined up in the court room listening to the Judge scolding them for their conduct of behavior, Anita was given no chance to explain herself, and without any further examination, because prostitution was just a trivial offence, all the girls were sentenced to pay a fine. Some of the girls paid the fine almost cheerfully, smiling invitingly at the court clerk before they left the court room one by one. But Anita Fohlstrom had no money.

The Judge just smirked at her when she tried to convince him that she was absolutely no girl of "easy virtue" and that her arrest had been a mistake , an unfortunate coincident

The Judge sighed he had heard it all before

"Look, young lady ...no decent young woman wears a dress like that unless her intensions are to lure gentlemen into it. I will have no more of that if you don't pay the fine in full here and now it will be the House of Correction, it is as simple as that, Miss Virtue!"

A lawyer among the crowd in the court room smiled. His task was done.

The woman in the cell was older than Anita, 28 in fact, and she stood there motionless with her forehead resting against the cold bars of the cell. She was a very beautiful lady, fairy tall and exquisitely made. She had the most beautiful, candid eyes of a deep azure blue that Anita had ever seen. They seemed to portray a great depth of character and also a sweet, refined and gentle disposition. Her nose was aquiline and her features delicately chillesed, an attribute which also applied to her ankles, feet, wrists and hands, which were thin, fragile and of aristocratic appearance. By way of contrast, it needed only a casual glance to discern the opulent voluptuous swellings of her exceptionally well-developed bosom and hips beneath the black satin gown that she was wearing.

Anita did not say anything, she just sat down on the wooden bench in the cell and glanced at the woman who seemed to stare into the emptiness of the square, adjoining room. After a moment of total quietness, the young woman seemed to lift her face upwards and closing her eyes she gripped the iron bars with such force that her knuckles whitened.

"They can't...they just can't!" Anita heard her whisper, when the door to the adjoining, main room opened and a tall, sturdy guard came in. The woman in the cell took a few steps back from the bars and glanced at Anita for the first time when he approached them.

"Ah not bad not bad...two of you tonight...and such pretty ones!"

He smirked as he eyed the women from top to toe.

The woman in the black dress lifted her hand and looked at the tall guard grinning behind the bars.

"Please...Sir listen to me I am Pamela Wright and must see the Judge or the Magistrate please...ask someone with authority to see me, and I will reward you please", she said, opening her hand and showing him a golden coin while looking at him with her sparkling, blue eyes, trying to produce a pleading smile.

"A bribe, eh look, Lady...I heard that the Magistrate refused your plea in court to pay any fines...but no money could help you then, eh? And not will it help you now! Someone really wants you birched on your bared ass maybe someone of the four gentlemen that will be attending and witnessing your punishment", the guard grinned and turned away.

Pamela Wrights cheeks turned slowly scarlet and with an absent expression in her face she sat down beside Anita on the rough wooden bench in the cell.

"ThisЕ this is obscene...!" she sighted with an ironic smile on her lips which more revealed her feelings of shame, embarrassment and degradation beyond belief than any joyfulness.

More or less nervous outburst of numerous women had many times taken place in the waiting cell of the adjoining punishment room, and just as often the women had seek ease and comfort to their troubled minds by sharing thoughts and supporting each other.

During the waiting hours in the cell Anita learned that Pamela Wright was born and brought up as a lady, being one of the most attractive and wanted young ladies of the society, until the misfortune of her fathers business and his sudden death. As the sole heir, Pamela found herself in great debt to one of the rich, young men that had fancied her for quite some time.

Unable to pay off her debts, this man, George Phillips, had the nerve to suggest that Pamela could pay him little by little by submitting herself to his most indecent, personal desires. Filled with outrage, Pamela had slapped his face as hard as she could...and now, two weeks later, she was arrested for assaulting a gentleman! A gentleman indeed!

But George Phillips had the best lawyers and all the bribe money needed to have Pamela Wright sentenced to the House of Correction for Women! There was no place on earth women dreaded more than this institution, and the rumors about the punishments inflicted upon the convicted females made many young ladies turn scarlet of shame.

Anita could see PamelaТs hands shaking and did almost forget her own situation as the time for their forthcoming ordeal approached. And they did not have to wait long, because the guard with the grin on his face stepped into the big square room, carrying a heavy leather clad punishment block. He placed it in the middle of the room where the floor had fitted in bolts for the base of the block.

"Oh no ", Pamela sighed, looking through the bars when the guard fastened the block to the floor.

The block consisted of a heavy round piece of timber, padded and covered with black leather and held upright by two square, wooden pillars from the middle of the wide, thick base board.

Both Anita and Pamela stared in dread at the preparations, and PamelaТs face turned crimson once more when the guard brought in four easy chairs, placing them in a half circle around the block at a very close distance. Then four buckets with freshly cut and bundled birches were brought in, well covered with water to keep the twigs supple and fresh. The both young women were standing behind the bars, quiet and in a turmoil state of mind.

"Well, my ladies, we are all set I will inform the bailiff so you don't have to wait any longer", the guard grinned at them and left the room.

The Bailiff, two guards and a clerk boy entered and the iron barred door to the adjoining cell was unlocked and opened. Both Pamela and Anita had moved backwards and stood now panic-stricken and pressing themselves against the back stone wall of their cell when the Bailiff looked over his papers.

"Miss Pamela Wright, step forward!" A hissing sound was heard when Pamela cached her breathe and tried to step forward, looking in panic around her. The Bailiff looked at the two guards, who immediately came forward and gripped the pretty woman roughly, pushing her forcefully before them into the punishment room. The young clerk, probably in the same age as Anita, closed and locked the door to the cell, glancing at Anita with such lustful, eager eyes that it made her want to give him a slap in his face.

In the punishment room Pamela was made to hold out her wrists in front of her while the guard buckled the leather restraints which held her wrists together. Two other leather cuffs were then brought forward, one to each ankle. Held upright by the other guard, Miss Pamela Wright found any physical resistance useless.

The Bailiff eyed the voluptuous forms of the strikingly beautiful woman in front of him and licked his lips.

"Place her in position!" he said to the guards, and Pamela was roughly brought forward to the punishment bock until her front thighs pressed against the round, horizontal piece of the block.

"Now bend over, Miss Wright!" the Bailiff said, and Pamela looked at him with despair and panic in her eyes, but she did obey.

The black satin material of her dress tightened visibly over her widening posterior as she bent over the padded piece of wood, and a suppressed gasp of humiliation left her lips when one of the guards grabbed her wrists forced her further down to secure her wrists to a ring in the base of the punishment block. With her hips held considerably higher than her head, the bent over position was most degrading for any lady, and certainly for a Lady of Quality. The Bailiff however did not take any notice that this young woman was a well educated and upper class Lady, and he added her humiliation by asking the guards to fasten her elbows to the base, which meant that PamelaТs head and shoulders were drawn even lower and her bottom thus forced higher up on the block in an even more shameful manner.

"You can ask the gentlemen waiting in my office to enter now", the Bailiff said to the clerk boy.

"Yes, Sir."

"Oh no Sir please have mercy...whip me if you must but spare me the shame of doing it in front ofЕ of those men", Pamela pleaded in a trembling, hoarse voice, lifting her beautiful face from her degrading position.

The Bailiff did not answer her. He just went to the door and opened it.

"Gentlemen, come in!" H e said a moment later. Pamela seemed to panic, tearing hysterically at the bonds that held her wrists and elbows secured to the base of the block. She hide her flushing, scarlet face between her stretched arms and a few suppressed, hysterical laughs left her lips. For a lady of her rank age and social class it was extremely humiliating to be presented with her posterior held high in the air over the block, ready to be whipped as a common harlot.

In the company of George Phillips three other young men entered the punishment room. Pamela knew all of them from numerous former occasions, and especially one of the men, Mark Fallon, made her knees tremble and her buttocks to cling together in a manner that was clearly visible beneath the tight satin dress.

No-one knew that the reason why Pamela had never married was Mark Fallon, the handsome gentleman she had fallen for in her late teens. The same young man that had occupied her daydreams as well as her fantasies late at nights but the one who had never asked her to marry him. Pamela could not prevent another series of some short, suppressed laughs brought forward in a nervous, hysterical outburst.

"Gentlemen, have a seat...we have arranged all the comfort of the house as you can see," the Bailiff said.

The half circle of chairs were set up behind the punishment block, providing an excellent view over the lustfully swelling bottom forced high up in the air and the long beautifully formed legs beneath the hem of the black dress. The dark silk stockings formed a beautiful harmony with the black dress, bringing forward the muscles in her calves in a most exiting manner.

"Good evening, Miss Wright " George Phillips said with a sarcastic tone in his voice and nodded to the Bailiff to proceed.

"Gentlemen, there is no more effective punishment for a naughty lady than a good sound whipping. Tonight, as you will witness, Miss Pamela Wright shall receive 30 strokes with the birch. The birch will be given - as always - across the bared buttocks of the culprit. Guards, prepare Miss Wright for the birch!"

"Hhhhhh..." Pamela hissed when she felt the hem of her dress lifted, baring her legs and the milk-white skin of her thighs above the stocking tops. The shameful ordeal of being stripped in this manner made the muscles in her legs tighten, especially when the guard had to force the tight satin material higher up over her widened bottom and hips, which took a considerable time to do. But the guard took the time needed, and shortly PamelaТs dress and chemise was neatly rolled down to her armpits and secured there with some needles.

PamelaТs swelling buttocks filled tightly the white batiste knickers which were quite small for a lady of her age. They were high fashion from Paris with rose colored ribbons and strings around the waist and the thighs. When the guard started to undo the strings, the flesh beneath the thin material seemed to come alive in a very curious way and PamelaТs scarlet face flung up, her desperate eyes looking for the Bailiff.

"Please, in the name of decency not...this oh Sir not with the men looking oh... noo!" Pamela was trembling from head to foot when her bottom was bared. The white flesh of her buttocks were quivering involuntarily, and the mere thought that she was now shamefully exposed in front of Mark Fallon and the other men sitting right behind her, made her well spread and swelling buttock cheeks clench violently. The guard removed her knickers completely.

"What a magnificent arse!" In her turmoil state of mind Pamela could hear the comments from the men, and some additional, violent clenching movements of her bared buttocks made the men laugh.

"Oohh Sir...please...do it quickly...I cannot bear this shame!" Pamela whined in her desperation.

Meanwhile the guards had fastened the ropes to her ankle straps, one to each ankle.

The base of the block had two iron rings in each corner, and Pamela was to be birched with her legs drawn wide apart so that the sting of the birch twigs could freely bite into the most sensitive areas of a womanТs anatomy. This was the way women were punished by the birch in the House of Corrections.

The fact that when the thighs were parted wide open, the woman had no chance to cover or protect herself against the eager eyes behind her as the most intimate parts were shamelessly exposed in a most indecent manner in front of everyone. Pamela Wright was a tall and strong woman who tried to avoid this ultimate humiliation by clinging and crossing her thighs together in an inhuman effort and state of panic, when she suddenly realized that they were going to spread her legs open.

Even if the guards were strong, they had to use considerable force to have PamelaТs legs parted and her ankles secured to the iron rings.

"HiiiiЕ hhhhiiiii...",Pamela breathed heavily as the muscles in her thighs and calves trembled and twisted in her futile attempts to break loose and hide herself from this ultimate indecency. Despite her almost inhuman efforts to prevent this Pamela's thigh were opened, exposing a very wet clit with the tiny hairs before the eyes of the flush faced spectators. As the ankle ropes were tightened also her tight pussy lips opened up and revealed a rosy and moist portion of a most female, intimate anatomy. In her turmoil state of mind Pamela Wrigth could almost feel Mark Fallon's eyes on her wide open pussy, a fact which made her clitoris to stand vigorously out like a hard pearl and some hysterical, short laughter escaped her lips.

The Bailiff took his time and let the men enjoy the scene, the jutting and quivering bared flesh of the beautiful, lustful woman with her buttocks held high over the punishment block and her long, beautifully shaped legs straddling wide open.

The men were all sitting there staring at the spectacle when the Bailiff gave one of the guards the order to fetch the birch.

In the bucket was several birches, seven or eight long, well selected switches tied together in bundles. The guard selected one of the bundle, an excellently prepared, long swishy birch.

Pamela had from her degrading, frustrating position seen the guard select the birch, and when he approached her, the trembling in her body increased. The trembling in turn affected the inner parts of her thighs, which were slightly fat and as tender as the skin of a baby, for they were quivering involuntarily, the flesh actually shaking like jellies.

Whether it was due to the acute feminine realization of how keenly she would soon feel the sting of the birch or the long period of awaiting in this humiliating position, or her attempts to minimize her position, the men sitting closely behind her could not tell.

However, as the guard swished the long birch-rods through the air, the lady made great effort to squeeze the cheeks of her large well rounded bottom together. She could not, however, succeed very well, held tight and bent over the block, and the great nervous expenditure involved caused her bottom to visible quiver and tremble in a most delicate manner.

"Miss Wright, you will now be birched...Guard, proceed!",
the Bailiff said and stepped aside to give room for the swing of the birch.

The guard raised his birch and brought it down with considerable force. There was a vicious hiss, and the men sitting behind her saw the twigs bite into the delicate white flesh which yielded like melted butter, and follow the voluptuous curves of PamelaТs bottom from hip to hip with a report like a hail-storm.

Stung to the very core of her being, Pamela leaped within her bonds with tremendous energy for such a delicately made woman. Her fingers clawed in the air and her high heeled shoes beat a sort of tattoo against the wooden base of the block. There was no cry of pain except a curious low whistling sound which escaped through her clenched teeth.

The guard adjusted his position somewhat, and gave her a master cut which curled around the base of her posterior. Pamela twisted her hips from side to side and uttered a short little scream then continued to utter three or four suppressed squeals for about fifteen seconds or so.

Her efforts to escape the position over the punishment bock caused her to vigorously raise her bottom up and down, while the deep plump hemispheres opened wide only to sharply knock against each other, which caused the whole of the supple flesh to waggle about in a most exiting manner.

"Perhaps this will teach you to be less arrogant against young gentlemen in the future, Miss Wright", the Bailiff said, and saw that the flush faced, highly exited men silently agreed. One of the chuckled nervously with a curious throat sound. To see Pamela wriggle and bounce her fleshy, bared and jutting buttocks in this most exiting manner had caused all of them strong erections.

"A good sound whipping on a woman's bare bottom is something they usually understand", the Bailiff said and nodded to continue.

Swishhh!...

Again the birch cut deeply into the soft flesh and made Pamela writhe.

"Ee--ee--ee ", she screamed shrilly. She lifted her body up on tip-toe only to throw herself heavily down over the hump again. Maddened with pain, she tried once again to brake loose from the bonds that held her, twisting her hips violently from side to side, rocking at the round leather clad piece like she was trying to tear it out from the base that held it upright.

She made supreme efforts to stiffen the whole of her muscles to counter the next stroke. Her feet knocked violently against the wooden base and caused the masses of the white flesh constituting her thighs quiver lecherously.

In vain she tried to harden her frail posterior muscles. It was quite a waste of time and effort, for the birch cut deeply into the woman's flesh a forth time. She regained her breath before shrieking with all the power of her melodious voice which made the men laugh.

All this time Anita had stood like frozen against the bars in the waiting cell looking at PamelaТs humiliating ordeal in the punishment room, her face changing colour from pink to crimson, but now, when she heard PamelaТs agonized scream, she turned white.

"Ehr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r- ...Ehr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-!", she heard her scream and saw Pamela writhing furiously her bared ass like a maniac on the block. Anita also saw the men and how their faces glowed lustfully watching the bizarre scene in front of them.

The stroke had landed with considerable force on the lower parts of her buttocks, and two or three twigs of the swishy thin birch had curved in between her well spread thighs, biting the most sensitive parts of her sex and the inside of her white, trembling soft thighs.

The guard examined the birch and went to the bucket to select a fresh one whilst Pamela wined and continued to clench her well spread, burning red-hot bottom.

"A birch gets a bit frayed at the end during a whipping, loosing the best part of the stinging effect, so we usually change into a fresh one after four or five lashes", the Bailiff informed the men, "and it is our intension to flog this woman soundly", he continued.

Pamela Wright twisted her neck, her beautiful deep blue eyes welling with tears, her sensual mouth wide open in which one could see her even white teeth.

"Stop No more I can't stand any more " she howled loudly.

"Mercy Have Mercy!"...

"Ah Miss you are starting to learn the efficiency of the birch that's good...but I can see that you are pleading for mercy just to get off easy. But that does not work here, lady, there is still a good way to go before we are through with you, my lady!" In desperation Pamela twisted her neck in the other direction, just in time to see the terrible, fresh birch rising.

Sssswish!

The new swishy rods caught her at precisely the moment that her dancing buttocks rose in the air, smiting the flesh about an inch below the last stroke. The traces left by the rod were marked hither and thither in fan-like outspreading thin weals, interspersed with violet notches and tiny white spots where the birch rods had blistered the flesh, but so far not a trace of blood.

For fully five seconds the whipped woman remained mute, then she let forth a high pitched jarring howl that resembled nothing human.

The guard was quite calmly measuring his distance for the next stroke, calculating with precision the leaps of the violently dancing posteriors, so as to bring each stroke well on the target.

"Can't hold your big bottom still, can you, Miss Wright? But I am sure the gentlemen appreciates to see such a lively performance, eh?" the Bailiff said mockingly.

Ssswish!

"Eeee Eee !! Oh My God...Ah...rrrr I can't bear it

УPlease stop please...please...!"

Sssswish!

Her mouth wide open gasping for breath, her fingers clawing in the air and every muscle in her body strained, Pamela felt the unbearable pain across the back of her most sensitive upper thighs were the birch-rods had been applied.

"Ahr...rrrr rrrrrr rrrr !" The white flesh in her thighs vibrated violently and her feet beat the base in a furious tattoo-like manner, the big white buttocks clenching madly, one moment just to spread themselves up into their full size and exposure before the next trembling contraction.

"Oh...no My God...oh nooo !" Pamela howled.

Even if the pain tormented her body as well as her mind, she was well aware of the fact that her buttocks clenched and opened shamefully in a continuous, slow rhythm, but there was nothing she could do about it. During the whole ordeal she had not for a split second forgot that Mark Fallon was sitting there watching her shame, a fact that only added the involuntary trembling running through her body without any control whatsoever.

Sssswish!

"Y ar rr oooooooooo...hh Ahrr rrrr.rrr !" One again Pamela plunged within her bonds with the desperate strength of a maniac. It was indeed a wonder that the straps held firm on account of the heavy strain put upon them.

Anita laid face down weeping on the wooden bench in the cell. The Bailiff had informed her that she would taste the birch later this same night, and his words had caused cold shivers run down her spine.

After Pamela had been released from the punishment block, the guards had taken her to another part of the prison, and Anita was left all alone in the cell with her agonizing fear to the forthcoming punishment. Her brain could not turn off the images of PamelaТs ordeal...and at the end, when she was still restrained on the block, the men had been allowed to examine her striped flesh. Their fondling fingers had examined much more than just her buttocks...

When a man they called Mark had fingered her, Pamela had started to tremble and twist her hips against the block in such a shameful manner that Anita had turned her crimson face against the wall. She had heard Pamela breathing fast and sigh heavily just before some suppressed shrilly short screams mixed with some curious groans had left her throat, making the men laugh...

From time to time Anita looked in dread into the punishment room where they had left the terrifying birching block waiting. AnitaТs unfair destiny tortured her mind and was hard to bear, and her mood changed rapidly forth and back from furious anger to self-pity and repeated outbursts into tears.

The two guards and the clerk boy suddenly entered, and Anita jumped up from the bench with all her senses alert she stepped back against the wall. The door was unlocked and she was ordered out, where the pimple faced young clerk licked his thick lips while he was eyeing Anita with his lustful eyes and with an eager expression in his face, walking forward and back and around her, touching her occasionally in a most irritating way while the two guards remained in the background.

"Please...stop that!" Anita burst out. She was not used to having a young boy who was hardly her own age agitating her in such an indecent manner.

The boy smiled and turned towards the guards.

"Tell her " "Miss, the Bailiff will be occupied elsewhere tonight, so he gave Frankie here the permission to deal with you... he is a trainee here so to speak", the guards coldly told her while the smile on the boys face widened.

"I am going to whip you personally", the boy told her, still smiling..." in a manner that whores are whipped " AnitaТs face had turned scarlet by the mere thought that this boy was given the legal right to chastise her personally. It seemed so very wrong, so unfair and improper that she wanted to scream.

"I am...no whore!" she said as calmly as she could with an anger caused by an extreme feeling of humiliation building up inside her.

"I want to see you naked take your clothes off... everything...!" the boy said.

Anita looked with a kind of defiant stoicism right into his eyes, but seeing him just stand there with his lustful grin on his face she turned towards the guards in a silent call of a chivalrous rescue from their side. But there was none.

"Hold her!" the boy said.

As Anita was gripped firmly by her arms she tried to rip herself loose in rage, but was held steady and pushed forward in front of the grinning boy. He touched her blue dress, letting his hand move up over her breasts in a most humiliating manner.

AnitaТs efforts to free her hands and prevent the boy from touching her just resulted in a tighter grip and her arms were drawn further out.

"Nice tits..." the boy grinned as he started to unbutton her dress slowly, clearly enjoying himself. AnitaТs ears burned red hot and she turned her face away, breathing heavily through her nostrils when her dress was drawn aside in the front and her young, firm breasts with the erecting pink nipples was bared, quivering unprotected in the cold air of the punishment room.

The pimple faced boy licked his lips and his grin widened as he continued to unlace the garments of the young, beautiful girl held in front of him...

Miss Hazel Devon was quite satisfied and lifted her glass with a double portion of sherry with a diabolic look in her eyes.

"Now that little bitch will get what she deserves. I have heard that women prisoners in the House of Correction who are sentenced there on a prostitution charge are flogged in a manner that will keep them from the streets for weeks...it must certainly be a dreadful place!" "I am pleased to hear that you appreciate my services, Miss Devon", said the lawyer, "and as far as I know, Miss Fohlstrom will not be spared any punishments, because the charge w a s prostitution the plan worked perfectly".

Hazel Devon giggled, visibly effected by the wine and sherry she had been enjoying.

"Is it true that they whip whoresЕdirectly on...their...source of income, so to speak?" she asked, still giggling and sipping more sherry from her glass.

УYes."

"How awful and it must be very embarrassing heh heh heh glp rr.rrr!"

"Miss Devon, perhaps you'll better leave the wine now and go to bed...it is quite late", the lawyer said, anxious to stop the conversation. From his previous experiences Hazel could suddenly get the most crazy ideas when she was drunk, and he felt a strong need to stop whatever could happen before the situation ran out of hands.

"To bed?...All alone?" Hazel pouted her lip and tried to look charming, imitating and attractive. In her condition all men started to look interesting, presenting objects to be conquered.

"Yes, Miss Devon alone it really is for the best"...

"Eeeee oooo noo not there!...Mercy!...I am no whore!" Anita screamed as the unbearable sting of the small leather thong made her plunge within her bonds in her furious attempts to escape the next lash.

The flesh of her inner thighs trembling violently and her breasts bouncing madly in all directions while her uncontrolled screams echoed within the walls of the sparely furnished room. Her entire body was sweating and the white flesh writhed glowing in the bright gaslights of the punishment chamber as the small drops of sweat plunged out of the pores of her skin.

Zzzzipp!ЕЕЕ

"Eeeeeooooo oh noo...please not any more not like this ...hoooo.ooo Mercy!" Anita Fohlstrom was whipped on her pussy by the pimple faced clerk boy, fastened to the punishment block in a manner that had made many harlots blush of shame. She was bent backwards over the padded round bock, her hips and naked cunt held shamelessly high above the floor. Her legs were drawn as far apart as the fastenings allowed, and her wrists were secured on the other side of the block. The wide spread of the thighs had opened her pussylips wide, displaying her young female genitals in a most crude manner. Her rosy pussylips were slightly swollen and the clitoris plunged out hard and shiny in the middle of the moist, pink flesh of her female sex organ.

Zzzzzipp!

The single leather thong had whined down again and stung Anita to the very core of her being, biting into the moist, tender flesh between her legs. She had seen the lash coming and the muscles in her widely spread thighs had immediately started to tremble vigorously, but the restraints were tight and there was no escape.

УArrrr rrrrr eeeoooooooo...rrr...noo more no more!!!!"

The shock of the biting whiplash along the crack of her pussy rushed through her body, making her tits jutting violently in a manner that exited the boy to that extent that he went around the punishment block and gave her several master cuts with the thong across her madly bouncing breasts and nipples.

"Whore !" he said, and went back to his position behind the block.

Anita started to cry soundly, like a baby. With tears running all over her face she knew that she could not take any more.

Many girls would have fainted after the first two or three lashes, but Anita was a strong and healthy country girl and able to take more pain than many others without loosing consciousness. But there is a limit even for a strong and and well fit girl - for Anita it had been 18 stinging lashes right along her opened pussyclit, given with a cruel, short one-thonged whip with a wooden handle. Her tear-filled eyes did not see the next lash, she could only feel the extreme biting pain when the tip of the round leather thong lashed into her clitoris and made everything suddenly disappear into darkness. She had been whipped like a whore...something many of the harlots on the street had experienced as freshies in the trade and something they swore never to experience again. Most of them did not ever practice their trade in the neighborhood of the House of Correction because the whole place caused them cold shivers.

Only a few former inmates with specific, masochistic sexual tendencies felt a certain glow inside them every time they walked by the stony walls of the institution.

УWell, how nice to see you, Baron Crawford, please come in!" said Hazel Devon to the unannounced guest.

"Good morning, Hazel, is your father, the Minister in?"

"Yes...I shall tell him you are here. He will certainly be pleased to see you would you care for a cup of tea or some sherry meanwhile?"

"A cup of tea, thank you...and you can ask Anita to bring it in, I am sure she will be surprised to see me here, she has been here almost a month by now", the Baron said cheerfully.

"Well, Baron, there is...a problem. Anita is not here...she...I heard she was arrested some time ago for...prostitution you know how these peasant girls can be ", said Hazel, trying to sound careless but well aware that she was in a serious danger zone.

"Prostitution?! Never! I know that girl, I know her father and her family decent people...I can't believe it I must speak to your father about this, immediately! My God, why didnТt you inform us?!

Hazel was pale in her face when she tried to listen through the living room door. Her father, the Minister, had insisted she told where this information about Anita came from, and she had no choice but to give him the name of the lawyer. Now these three men were all gathered in in the living room and Hazel could hear that there was some angry shouting going on. When the door suddenly opened, her father gave her an icy look and all three men walked right out to the Ministers carriage.

"I had to tell them", the lawyer said before they left and left Hazel standing in the hallway with her face turning pale.

Minister Devon and Baron Crawford had the Magistrate office standing on their toes in no time, and the clearly upset Magistrate Chief rushed to their assistance. They found Anita Fohlstrom in less than an hour in one of the dungeon cells beneath the main building of the Correctional Institution. The girl was laying face down on the narrow bench with her skirts folded up over her back and her bottom bared and marked all over hundreds tiny red swellings.

Anita had turned her head towards the door when it opened but did not make a move to cover herself, neither did she close her eyes or react in any way.

"Oh my God !" said the Baron.

"The prisoner was birched on the flogging bench this morning ", the guard said.

The Baron went over to the bench and covered Anita's nakedness with a soft blanket, and striking gently her hair he felt a strong compassion and warmth for the poor girl.

"Anita...this is Baron Crawford I have come to take you home " he said kneeling down beside her and touched her cheeks in a gentle, fatherly way.

Anita looked at him. At first, it seemed that she looked into an endless emptiness but suddenly there was a reaction. Her eyes started to wet when the first teardrops filled the corners of her eyes.

"BaronЕ" she whispered

The whole plot was slowly unfolding.

"My God, Baron, you cannot have my daughter arrested! The family name, and my whole life work will be ruined and the Cabinet will truly feast on this matter!" the Minister said in despair.

"We have been friends for a very, very long time...can't we find a solution to have justice done without having it done in public?"

"Like what?"

"What Hazel did to that young woman cannot be ignored, and I admit that she is a spoiled young lady, but...there must be another way to have her pay for what she has done..." And a way was found.

"No! No! Never! I will never you hear me, father, I will n e v e r accept that! I know I have done wrong and I am sorry, but what you are suggesting is totally out of question!" Hazel raged, standing flush faced in front of him.

"Either that or the even worse alternative, the House of Correction , and believe me, you are getting easy off even if you also have spoiled your chances for a good marriage!" the Minister said.

"I kill myself first you'll see ", Hazel said and left the room.

One hour later she sneaked out of the house, planning to run away, but soon enough she realized that her father had closed down all her accounts and personal assets, and without any money, she was totally stranded.

However, headstrong as she was, Hazel spent two days and two nights in the streets, hungry, thirsty and cold. The third day she came home.

"Father you cannot do this to me ", she pleaded.

The recovery from the physical ordeals Anita Fohlstrom had suffered during the month in the House of Correction took weeks, and the Crawfords had allowed her to stay home with her parents at the farm house for the first two weeks. The mental damage however was so deeply impressed to her mind that her girlish, joyful personality had changed into a somewhat reserved and reticent behavior, polite and normal on the surface but she was definitively not the same Anita that they had seen before. Her parents also noticed that she had nightmares, and clearly worried about her state of mind they tried to question her about the recent past, but Anita did not tell them anything. She had also asked the Baron and Peter not to reveal anything to her parents or anyone else about her experiences in the city.

As she regained her position as a maid at the Crawfords after the short leave, Mrs Brunell as well as the staff could also sense the change in her.

"They think she is better than us now when she has been working in the city", one of the maids said jealously when the Baron had upgraded Anita to his personal maid, a honor usually given only to the girl with the longest service.

"If you were as beautiful and...well equipped as she you would perhaps be married by now", another girl smirked at the jealous spinster.

The lights had gone out for the night when Peter Crawford heard the soft knock on his bedroom door.

"Anita, what? Come inЕ" he said, when he found her behind his door in her small nightie. She looked ravishingly beautiful, smelling fresh and soft.

"I...cannot sleep...Sir ", she whispered, and her moist, blue eyes told Peter she really needed someone.

He took Anita in his arms, feeling the warmth of her soft, warm skin through the thin nightgown. Anita responded to his kiss in a way Peter had never experienced before, clinging herself onto him in a manner that gave him an immediate erection.

When he lowered her onto his bed, he did not know if it was he or she who took the initiative. One thing was clear though, Anita needed a fuck and she needed it badly. And, after all, she was not a virgin any more. No young women who was released from the House of Correction was a virgin any more. For the unwilling and especially for some young suffragettes with an "attitude" they had that humiliating fucking trestle with the adjustable restraintsЕ With her nightgown removed from her voluptuous beautiful body she reached out for Peter in a state of hunger and a pulsating urge for love and relief. Her trembling fingers clawed into his neck drawing him closer. However, she still felt that something was missing.

"I need to be tied " she whispered, biting her lower lip, surprising Peter totally in a way he had not expected. He had been ready to enter her right there and then, but when his dizzy brain finally comprehended her words his first reaction was the disappointment for the interruption but immediately after that his dominant tendencies in his sex life caused his erecting member to swell out into maximum size.

"I don't have any ropes in here " he groaned in despair.

"I left some in the drawer of your night table when I cleaned the room today ", Anita whispered in a state of heat, turning her reddening face away.

This was the first time she could feel her emotions alive in weeks, a good sign of recovery in itself, but the strong need to be restrained in order to have her sexual urges satisfied was something new, something she could not comprehend herself. To be held in a place like the House of Correction can do things to a girl... open up those secret gates into the hidden dark passages of the mind...

Peter had tied her wrists together to the head side of the bed and her ankles to the two bedposts. Doing this, Anita had to spread her legs wide open, exposing her dripping wet slit into full display. Even if she knew she wanted this, she felt suddenly so terribly ashamed that her pink face turned scarlet.

The flesh of her inner thighs quivered as Peter mounted her. He did hold back for some while and kissed her hard, erecting nipples, sucking slowly but hard. AnitaТs soft, trembling thighs clasped against his hips with small smacking sounds of flesh to flesh as much as the loose ropes allowed.

"Hhhhhhhhhhh ..." she moaned.

Then he entered her. They were both more than ready.

Anita was fucked by Peter Crawford in a way she had never experienced. His long fully erecting cock rubbed against her hardened clitoris with every withdrawal and made her pant in a state of ecstasy, twisting and arching her body within the bonds that held her. Without the ropes her nails would have clawed into Peter like a tigress, now she could only thrust her hips violently upwards hoping to receive his wonderful manhood fully and completely in her burning female, young ecstasy.

"Yes...yes...yesss aaaaaa ssssss!Ф

Anita had no control over her body, and the wild orgasm spread with a long tingling sensation through every nerve within her, made her squirm and bounce in the bed like a maniac, hitting her thighs against Peters with smacking sounds.

"Aaaahh aaaaaaahhhh...hhhh...hhh oh Peter...hhh!" she panted, tugging at the ropes that held her pinned down.

Peter was still inside her. He was not finished yet, but he granted Anita the time she needed to calm down.

"I love you", she heard herself saying. Something from her sub consciousness, something from long, long ago made her say those words, and flashbacks from her past, her wet girlish secrets rushed through her mind. In fact, it had not been so long ago...

Her body reacted with a quiver when Peter withdraw his still erecting penis, rubbing it against her clitoris - just to thrust it in again in its full length.

"HhhhhhhhЕ hhhЕ", Anita panted, clamping her quivering thighs against him again, her body shining and slippery of sweat.

She had needed a fuck and she was getting more than bargained for...In the midst of her new, rising orgasm. Peter whispered into her ear.

"Anita, will you marry me?" She was unable to answer him, because her immediate orgasm was so violent, so breathtaking, so wonderful that the only thing she was capable of was to let it out in full...the endless long shivers that never seemed to stop...

"I am waiting for an answer", Peter whispered in her ear when she somehow had regained control over herself.

"YES Peter YES!!!!!" was the only thing she could say, the only thing she wanted to say.

"Well... in that case we can discuss it later", said Peter, still inside her.

"Oh noo!" Anita panted when she felt Peter's member enter her deeper again.

"Oh, yes...", Peter hissed as his hips started to move in a fast, violent manner, feeling his orgasm rising. However, before he came, Anita had her third orgasm, but this time Peter did not stop.

In a life filled with miseries, it can sometimes be so wonderful to be young

Peter did not release her from the ropes afterwards. Anita's position at the bed was quite similar to the fucking trestle at the House of Correction except the adjustable knee straps and the leather pillow under the ass. Peter wanted to enjoy AnitaТs voluptuous, naked feminine forms while he was gently wiping off the sweat off her body with a wetted towel. Working downwards from her neck, over her breasts the wet towel made AnitaТs nipples all erect again, and when he moved downwards over her belly she was biting her lip and turned her face away. At the first touch on her still pulsating clit the muscles in her inner thighs suddenly started to vibrate and she came for the forth time. She simply could not help it but she did not care. She was his, fully and completely.

"My best congratulations to both of you!" the Baron said and meant it. Normally a marriage among people from differing social backgrounds was considered as a violation against the unwritten rules of the community, but in this case it was widely accepted. It was high time for Peter to settle down and it also gave the Baron a kind of satisfaction to see Anita compensated for all the suffering she had gone through. And Anita was very beautiful, a real asset to the family also from that point of view. The glow in her face made her even more beautiful, and he could tell that she was in love and very much so, the way her eyes sparkled as she looked at Peter. In fact, Peter had no other suitable bride in sight at the moment after the incident with Hazel Devon.

Hazel Devon had lost her chance, her freedom and, at the moment, her clothes.

Humiliated deep down to her very soul she stood stark naked in Peters punishment room on the attic of the Crawford house, alone, scared and shamed beyond belief.

Mrs Brunell had had the nerve to use the help of two stable hands, two young lads, to have Miss Hazel Devon stripped stark naked and fastened to a whipping post. Hazel was 23, and certainly a quite beautiful woman, and the young boys had truly feasted their eyes upon her white, female flesh as they bared her bit by bit and her garments came off. She had put on quite a fight, screaming and raging like a maniac, but she had not been a match for the strong, flush faced youths.

Totally nude she was handcuffed with her arse out to a vertical, metal post standing up from a wooden knee high base.

The wood in the base was carved to fit and restrain the legs of the culprit with an additional strap at the back of the knees to hold the legs firmly in place. Hazel could not even cross her thighs to hide her big bush of pubis hairs when the grinning youths focused their eyes on her crotch.

She started to laugh hysterically at the post when a second strap went around her waist, pulling the small of her back against the post and forcing her to thrust her big bottom backwards. When the waist strap was tightened, Hazels fleshy and milk-white buttock globes was separated and swelled out into their enormous size.

Hazel knew all to well that she had broad hips and that her posterior had been oversized since her early puberty years. During the last years of matureness her buttocks had still largened into a quivering mass of flesh which she had tried to conceal by using very tight corsets and garments fitting her well. Everything she had tried to conceal was now displayed in a most crude, shameful manner and her hysterical laughter continued while her crimson blushing spread slowly down to her breasts.

"The celebrations are still going on downstairs, but later tonight Peter and Anita will attend to you, Miss Devon, you just wait where you are a sound whipping across your big bottom is what you need, My Lady", Mrs Brunell told her before they left her there.

More than two hours had passed and Hazel had to stand there waiting, waiting.

Whenever a small sound was heard, her heart leaped and she strained herself against the whipping post with big buttocks clenching violently as she tried to close the shamefully opened crack between her trembling buttock cheeks. But it was always false alarm and Miss Hazel Devon was really getting agitated.

Another hour passed. Her restlessness was not caused only by the fact that Peter would see her in her shame, she feared Anita much more.

"She will do to you what they did to her in the House of Correction", her father had told her "and she has all the right to do so!".

Hazel trembled as she thought of the things those bastards at the institution was doing to all those young women there. She knew that they had whipped Anita between her legs...

Peter and Anita had forgot all about Hazel because they were having a violent private orgy in Peters bedroom. Anita had been so beautiful in her expensive, new evening dress the Baron had bought for her, her glittering diamond earrings framing her sensual face and her golden hair made up in a manner that Peter simply could not resist to suggest a moment alone with her as soon as the guests had left the party.

Well inside his bedroom Anita gave Peter a smile and went straight to his night table.

With a tempting, leading on expression in her face she took out three ropes. Sitting down on the bed she tied the ropes to her ankles, one rope to each, looking at Peter from time to time with that same, tempting smile on her face.

Anita had white, high heeled laced boots and gray silk stockings of the latest fashion.

She had really dressed up for the celebration.

Standing up and turning away from him with a gesture of modesty, she unlaced her knickers from under her evening gown and let them fall.

Peter just stood there, randy and ready, watching Anita gather all the pillows in the room into a high pile in the middle of the bed. Then she approached him with the third rope. Giving it to him she turned and crossed her wrists behind her. She did not have to say anything, and a moment later her hands were corded tightly together.

Anita lowered herself face down with her hips resting on the high pile of pillows with her hands tied behind her back, bending herself crosswise over the bed which left much space at her right as well as at her left. Her hips and bottom raising high in the air she spread her legs as far apart as she could. This made the hem of her pretty dress glide upwards, baring her white, tapering thighs.

"Peter I need to be tied ", Anita whispered, but he was already fastening the ankle ropes to the far bed posts, forcing her straddling legs even further apart until her knees lost the touch and support of the bed.

Peter folded her dress neatly up over her beautifully rounded bare buttocks and could not stop to admire AnitaТs well proportioned, exiting body. Her muscular thighs and calves straining in the widely spread position making her white buttocks move from side to side as he undid her garters and rolled her stockings down. When his hand cupped her sex from behind, he could hear her taking in breathe and the fingers of her tied hands straighten out in a trembling emotional strain. He could see her bite her lip when his hand felt her wide open clit and the hardness of her bared clitoris.

"Hhhhhhh...Peter...the hh drawer..." Anita panted. "The drawer in your night tableЕthere is aЕ" Peter had already looked into the drawer, seeing a small single twig of a young, fresh birch, a tiny rod with a swishy sting.

"So you have been doing my room again, have you?" AnitaТs buttocks started to clench, open up and contract.

The clenching increased and the flesh in her thighs quivered when Peter went behind her, testing the efficient sting of the rod against his palm.

"You have not done my room properly when I find things like this laying around, have you?" Peter asked with a smile on his face and the bulk in his trousers screaming to be released.

Anita buried her face into the linen of the bed, not knowing when and where the rod would make her perform the ass dance of her life in front of her husband to be. "Play your cards right, girl " Mrs Brunells voice echoed in her brain followed by a terrible sting diagonally across her right buttock cheek, making the bedposts squeak as she tried to close her legs but only resulting in that her quivering buttocks bouncing high up in the air when the muscles in her widely straddling legs tightened like strained bows.

The position was perfect for the next stinging lash of the tiny rod.

Her hips leaped upwards again with an indescribable energy by arching her back, and Peter could see her wide open dripping wet clit dancing in front of his eyes.

Anita had not seen Peter remove his trousers and that he had moved closely up behind her with his erecting cock almost touching her moist rosy clit bouncing up and down over the stack of pillows. He gave her a biting sting of the rod across her shapely bottom cheeks at the same time he moved closer to her. AnitaТs wide open clit squirmed suddenly right against his hardened penis and twisting her head back by the surprise she realized what it was.

"Yes PeterЕ. YessssЕ. " she moaned in heat.

But Peter was not willing to give it to her yet even if she tried to thrust her hips backwards in hope for him to enter her. Instead, he gave her another flick with the tiny rod which made her bottom twist in a wild dance and her dripping hot pussy rub against Peter with increased intensity. Teasingly he kept the distance, giving Anita only the tickling sensation of the touch but nothing more.

How she wanted him! How she needed him! being so close so very close, Peter made her wild of desire, burning in heat.

And Anita did perform that ass dance of her life that night. Her shrilly scream of pure sexual desire and joy when Peter finally entered her from behind echoed in the room and caused Mrs Brunell to raise an eyebrow as she happened to pass the bedroom door.

Two hours later they laid on Peters bed, both naked, satisfied and happy. AnitaТs head resting on Peters chest, her beautiful corn colored hair all spread out, her hand caressing the skin of his belly, moving her fingers slowly further down to his softened cock. Rolling his member between her fingers Peters manhood regained some signs of resurrection, just enough for her to move her head towards it.

Anita closed her red, hot lips around his penis, taking it wholly into the wetness of her mouth. She could feel it growing slowly, filling her. Letting it our, her nails caressed the sensitive nerves of his organ until it erected almost into full size. Changing her position and pushing gently Peters thighs far apart, she lowered her face and took the swelling cock into her mouth...

Peter had just given her three wonderful orgasm, and she wanted to give him at least a second one. And she did. She did not let him go even when his hot sperm shot into her mouth, she swallowed it all and continued to suck him until the very last drop. That was the way Anita had learned to do it in the House of Correction...the pimple faced clerk boy being her first teacher...

УHazel !", Anita said one and a half hour later, just waking suddenly up. It was half past three in the morning.

"Mmmm...what?" Peter asked, half asleep.

"We forgot about Hazel she is still up there, is she?"

"That's right...Anita, just tell Mrs Brunell to take her down, we deal with her tomorrow, I'm too tired now

Hazel Devons buttocks quivered uncontrollably when the door was opened. She was crying. She had had a lot of time to think about what they would do to her. She had also pissed, trying at first not to embarrass herself in this way too, but after three hours of agonizing trying it just happened. The evidence was visible on the floor. Not a very suitable thing to happen to a Lady of Quality.

"What a mess I'll take you down now...they didn't have time to deal with you tonight, but tomorrow night they will whip the arrogance out of you, believe me", Mrs Brunell said.

Hazels sobbing cries shifted suddenly to a hysterical laughter when she dressed herself.

"Before we go you clean up that mess of yours! Mrs.Brunell said while she was opening the heavy door to the adjoining prison chamber where Hazel would spend the next two months...

The next evening the two stable hands had stripped her again and attached her nude to the whipping post. This time both Peter and Anita came to see their flush faced prisoner. Anita had a swishy whip in her hand. Hazel clinged herself against the post in utter humiliation.

This was the very first time Peter had seen her naked.

"Peter, could you call for the stable boysЕ I want Miss Devon on the table on her back with her thighs spread wide open as wide as possible so that her pussylips opens. I want to give her a taste of what is it like to be a prisoner in the House of Correction." Anita said and put the switch away. From a drawer in the cupboard she took out a short, single thonged whip that she had prepared for the occasion and a smile of revenge covered her face.

Half an hour later a very crimson Miss Hazel Devon was firmly restrained on her back to the table her thighs were drawn straight outwards and buckled with heavy straps to the table edges. A pillow had been placed under her ass to force her milky white inner thighs and widely open pussy upwards into full exposure.

Anita smiled when Hazel's loud hissings turned into hysterical small laughter. She could see the violent trembling along her inner thighs when Peter tickled her hardened clitoris with a feather. Anita wanted her to be in a state of heat before she applied the stinging thong along the rosy wetness of her most intimate and sensitive anatomy. That was another thing Anita had learned in the Prison. She had seen her former cellmate Pamela Wright's violent reactions when she was straddled on the fucking table and Mark Fallon tickled her pussy and clitoris with a feather prior to her pussy-whippingЕNow she could see those same, hysterical reactions in Hazel Devon.

"Now Peter, I think she is ready. If you don't mind I would like to punish her in private", Anita said.

Peter smiled and nodded.

"Of course she is your prisoner " When the door closed Anita grabbed the thong whip and approached the young panic-stricken woman who laid her so perfectly opened for a pussy-whipping, her pulsating clitoris sticking out like a white pearlЕ. It was payback timeЕ zzzZZZZZZIIIPPP!!!

end

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

Comments Off

UNDERLAND

UNDERLAND

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

Under Land
by SATO. All rights reserved.

Chapter I. A Journey Begins

Two girls missing in just one week. Gina thought about this as she walked rapidly to her car. The campus was nearly empty now and the parking lot was deserted. There was no moon tonight and the cold flourescents cast tall ominous shadows behind each tree and bush. An icy wind blew across the parking lot and Gina jumped at the sound of every leaf that skittered across the bone-dry asphalt. She saw her car now way off in the distance at the far end of the lot. It was hard to believe that this had been the best parking spot she could find when she had arrived earlier.

"Damn it, Gina", she said to herself, "why did you stay in the library so long? Studying for finals is one thing but you should have thought about getting someone to walk you to your car!"

When Gina had gotten here the college campus had been teeming with life; people on their way to class, going home for the day, sitting down for a lunch break before the next period began…

Everywhere she heard people talking about Darla and Michelle, the two missing girls. Darla and Gina had two classes together and were pretty good friends. Gina knew who Michelle was by sight but they had never really spoken. She only knew that every heterosexual male on campus wanted to get into Michelle’s pants. She was georgeous; blond hair, blue eyes, boobs to die for, etc. etc. One of those all-American beauty types.

Darla was pretty too. Long auburn hair and a smile that could melt ice. She was on the track team and held the school record in the cross-country event. Both girls were popular, beautiful and missing…

Gina was only a few feet from her car when she heard something shuffle quickly toward her. She let go a frightened little scream as she looked back over her shoulder.

Something small caught her eye. It was just a rat running into one of the open sewer grates.

"Shit girl," she muttered, "you’d better chill out before you pee yourself".

This image made her giggle a little as she reached for her keys.

Just three feet from her car now and Gina was thinking about supper and paying bills. She never heard the eighty-pound manhole cover rise up out of the asphalt behind her. She never saw the thick shadows climb out of the hole and hurry toward her. But she did feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as her primordial instincts tried to warn her of the impending danger.

This was all Gina needed to send her already frayed nerves into action. She spun around, her hand already coming out of her purse with the pepper spray.

She depressed the trigger wildly and screamed as the huge shapes closed in.

How many? Three? Four? She heard a bellow of surprise and pain as one of the figures, then another, fell back grasping their faces. Gina jumped to one side in an effort to evade the grasping hands but caught her hip on the mirror of her car and went sprawling onto her back. They were on her before she could move a muscle. She felt a knee land hard in her gut knocking the wind out of her as hands grasped her wrists and twisted the pepper spray from her grasp.

One of the shapes slapped her hard across the face, stunning her. Barely conscious, Gina could only endure as her hands were forced together in front and wrapped tightly with rope.

Seconds later Gina was being lowered through the manhole and into the storm sewer that ran under the parking lot. She kicked feebly only to get slapped across the face again. This time it was hard enough to knock her out. The last thing Gina saw as she slipped into darkness was a handful of stars twinkling indifferently in the night sky as the manhole cover was put back in place.

When Gina awoke, she realized that she was hanging from a pole suspended by her wrists and ankles the same way hunters carried the carcass of a game animal! Her captors were moving at a tremendous rate of speed through subterranean tunnels toward some unknown destination.

Gina was unable to see at all even though her eyes were unbound. She tried to speak, to plead with her strangely silent captors, but the attempt only brought the realization that she was gagged with a thick piece of leather tied off and wrapped around her head. All she could do was make a pitiful muffled sound. Almost immediately she was dropped roughly to the ground and untied from the pole. Gina was pulled abruptly to her feet and her shirt was ripped from her body. Next her bra was stripped away leaving her firm breasts swinging about unprotected in the cold under ground air. Her nipples immediately stood up and grew rigid as the damp air caressed them.

She tried taking a step backwards but slammed into the unseen wall of the tunnel. Immediately she was set upon again by rough hands that grasped her from out of the dark.

Her captors had never made a sound except for the two Gina had managed to douse with the pepper spray while still in the parking lot. But no sound except for their breathing did she now hear.

One incredibly strong hand grasped her by the hair and lifted her screaming off the tunnel floor, while two others wrapped her hands behind her back and tied first her wrists together then brought the rope up and tied her elbows together. This wrenched her shoulders painfully backwards and caused her to thrust her chest forward. This would seem to have been sufficient punishment for any imagined offense but they were not done with her yet.

Gina’s full, ripe breasts were next on the agenda. Each tit was bound tightly around the base by thin coarse rope, which was then pulled so tightly that Gina thought her breasts would surely be torn off. After a couple of experimental tugs on the rope around Gina’s painfully distended tits, another longer rope was looped between them and tied in place. The second rope was a leash. The abductor who was holding her suspended by her hair dropped Gina back onto the ground. Then, with no warning, Gina found herself being pulled forward by her tits while another of the invisible goons produced a whip and cracked it across the back pockets of her designer jeans.

Gina needed no further instruction. She lurched forward and was forced to run as the rope around her tits was jerked forward and the whip sliced across her firm ass.

She stumbled often since she couldn’t see the floor and to make matters worse, she didn’t have the use of her arms for balance.

Gina ran as well as she could. She was in good physical condition – being no stranger to the gym -- and so managed to keep up fairly well. The whip only landed when she tried so slow her pace.

As time went on Gina’s flesh became slick with perspiration in spite of the cold damp air of the tunnels. With a growing feeling of desperation she eventually became aware of the simple fact that she couldn’t keep up this pace much longer. Tears streamed down her face while saliva poured from her gagged mouth and dripped across her leashed tits. They drove her on like a wild animal deeper into the under world she would come to know so well.

Dimly Gina felt wind from time to time and heard the echoes of their relentless footfalls get louder then softer again. This told her that they were passing intersections in the tunnel systems. She was pulled into some these tunnels by the harsh tug of the leash tied around her painfully swollen tits. On and on they went – Guards and prisoner, Masters and slave.

Chapter Two. A Warm Welcome

Then Gina became aware that a faint light was beginning to grow. She could hear sounds up ahead. As the light continued to assert itself, Gina got the first look at those who had turned her pleasant life into such a waking nightmare. The one pulling her tit-leash was totally bald, he stood nearly seven feet tall, and had the body (she could see it all since he was totally nude) of an Olympic athlete. Another one ran in front of him. This one, to Gina’s amazement, was a woman of equal strength and physical proportions to Gina’s leash-master except for her long thick black hair and full ripe breasts. There were at least two more behind her but Gina dared not look back for fear of losing her balance and falling.

The air began to warm as the light grew, and the further they went the more Gina could hear from up ahead. As Gina’s group rounded the next bend she saw a row of torches imbedded in the walls high above her head.

Now she could hear more clearly the voices; laughter, commands, grunts, and screams!

The tunnel curved around and suddenly dumped out into a large cavern. . As Gina was herded into the huge cave, cheers and applause went up.

The one holding the tit-leash gave a mighty jerk and Gina fell to her knees then over onto her face further bruising her breasts.

"Ahh! Fresh meat has arrived ladies and gentlemen!" said one of the partygoers.

Gina gasped in horror as she tried to make sense of the debacle to which she bore witness. The cavern was filled with two kinds of beings. Many were obviously akin to those who had brought her here but the rest were all surface dwellers, all were women like Gina. All the Surface Women were being tortured and ravaged by the huge semi-human under dwellers.

Almost immediately Gina saw Darla and Michelle. Darla was hanging by her ankles from chains suspended from the ceiling. Her legs were spread wide and her sex was fully exposed. Her arms were chained to a large rock that dangled inches above the ground. She was being streched painfully as the weight of the small boulder tried to obey the law of gravity. Their eyes met. And Gina gave up all hope. While Darla hung there one of the under-women smiled at Gina and began grinding her greasy fist into Darla’s cunt while one of the males was whipping her heaving, sweating tits. Her body swayed and twisted as the whip landed and the fist bore its way inside. Darla’s screams were barely human and the look in her eyes was madness as the female’s fist began to grind and twist its way between the fleshy lips of Darla’s labia. Her stomach muscles convulsed wildly as Darla tried vainly to expel the invader. Now the female bore down with all her weight and her fist suddenly slid into Darla nearly up to the elbow. Darla’s whole body convulsed madly with the unwelcome intrusion. Now the fist and arm began to slide in and out like a like a piston violently rocking Darla’s nude body. Gina felt sick and wondered if it would be her turn next as she watched her friend’s pussy being pounded mercilessly by the fist.

Michelle was just a few yards further away. She too was hanging in chains

from the ceiling but at least she was right side up. Her wrists were together but her legs were spread wide on either side of her by more chains bolted to the rocky floor of the cavern. Michelle was pinned between two large males who were raping her savagely front and back. Their erections tunneled in and out of Michelle’s holes without mercy. She jerked and grunted heavily as first one then the other retracted his club-like phallus then rammed it back home. A line had formed as other males waited for their turn at one of her battered slime-smeared holes. They had obviously been at Michelle for quite awhile now. Long streams of copious goo trailed down her inner thighs and a large glistening wet spot lay below her on the ground

Other girls Gina had never seen before adorned the walls and floor of the cave in various forms of torment.

Then Gina was brought back to her own plight as she heard a one of the female’s yell "Strip her and string her up, we must welcome her properly to festival!"

Easily a dozen of the males and females rushed her and tried to shred off her tattered sweat-soaked jeans.

Gina kicked out for all she was worth, and even though her hands were still tied at the wrists and elbows, she managed enough coordination to connect with a male’s groin and the square jaw of a groping female. She bucked and fought with a fury that surprised them all. Gina would have been more amazed than anyone if she’d had time to think about it.

By now three of her assailants had backed out of the fray with fairly substantial bruises and lacerations. A forth lay unmoving, crumpled in a heap. It was only by their superior numbers that Gina was eventually worn down and subdued.

"Hold her still you idiots!" said a different voice, "Don’t you know one of your own when you see her?"

The woman approached and gave instructions that Gina be brought to her feet.

"Let’s get that gag out of your mouth, dear" said the woman, "and your tits must be a trifle sore. Let me untie those as well"

The woman went about the business of liberating Gina’s throbbing breasts

and spoke softly in her ear as her fingers worked the knots.

"I will take your gag out, but first you must promise to keep silent. Do we have a deal?" she said.

Gina nodded in assent

"First let me massage a little life back into your tits, love"

When the ropes came off her wrists, elbows and breasts; the blood began to flow once again. Gina’s guards shifted their positions now, making sure to hold her tightly in check. The woman gently rubbed Gina’s arms and chest until the pain began to subside. Then the gag came out and Gina swallowed hard and moved her tongue and jaw around to relax the muscles there, but, remembering her deal, she uttered no sound. The last thing Gina wanted was to be bound and gagged again.

"You’ll have to forgive the others, Gina", they only do as nature or I instruct them. My name is Lor, and it will be my honor to make your stay here with us as pleasant and instructive as possible"

Gina wondered who would get the "pleasure". It certainly wouldn’t be her if the condition of the other girls in the cavern was any indication. And what was that about "instructive"??

"So many questions," said Lor, "but very little fear do I see. Don’t you find that strange? After all you’ve been through so far this evening, after all you see going on around you."

"Watch them all Gina", said Lor, "this is how we treat most of our new guests, but you will be the exception to the rule".

"Bring her", Lor ordered gesturing to the guards who held Gina.

To the far end of the cavern, past the young women, the rape, the torture, the bondage, Gina was led.

Lor stopped next to a nude girl who was bent double over a horizontal iron rod coming out of the wall. Her hands and feet were manacled and chained to the rocky floor. She was totally bent in half with her long blond hair hanging nearly to the floor. The girl’s ass was the highest part of her body, her legs were spread and her ass-cheeks were wide open and exposed. The girl did not move at all. By now she knew that struggle was not an option.

Gina looked down at the girl’s sweaty, sticky, whip-marked body and felt a strange stirring in her loins.

A large female guard stood next to a coal brassier watching Lor for orders.

"This is Megan," Lor told Gina with the tone of voice a Doctor might use when instructing a group of young interns, "she has been with us almost two days now. She is about to complete the first phase of her training. This is how we give our graduates their diplomas."

Then Lor turned to the guard who stood next to Megan and nodded.

The guard took one end of an iron from the coals and carefully swung the white-hot end near Megan’s rear.

"This is the mark of an owned slave," said Lor, "it is the mark of our people, it is the mark this little cunt will wear for the rest of her life!"

With this the guard pressed the branding iron into the flesh of Megan’s upturned left ass cheek. She screamed and thrashed madly as the brand made its mark.

Lor watched Gina who, in turn, watched Megan writhe in pain while receiving the mark of these Underlanders. Gina, ashamed, realized that she was somehow enjoying this display. In some perverted way, this was making Gina twitch.

Lor smiled as she registered the unmistakable look of lust on Gina’s face.

The guard pulled the heavy iron away quickly and placed it back into the fire.

Runes of some sort were left behind; burned into the quivering, tender flesh of the girl’s left buttock.

Megan, who no longer struggled, simply wept silently; her tears falling onto the rocks of the cold stone floor.

"Now the ring," said Lor.

The guard squatted behind Megan between her lewdly splayed legs. She produced a handful of gleaming golden rings from a pouch on the floor. After sorting through the different sizes, she chose one and put the rest away.

The woman now reached up to Megan’s cunt and began to stroke her softly there. Megan jerked at the first touch then settled down to endure. But this was different for Megan. There was no pain now, no prodding, no violating insertions. Megan looked back between her legs and watched as the female guard massaged her most private part. As the stroking continued Megan, against her will, began to react to it and so did Gina.

Lor reached over and unzipped Gina’s tattered jeans.

Gina flinched. "Don’t resist Gina," said Lor, "just ride with it."

Lor gently slid Gina’s jeans and panties down and Gina stepped out of them. Gina was completely naked now. Lor slid her hand down between Gina’s thighs and parted the lips of her sex.

Gina and Megan both moaned softly in unison as the skilled hands of Lor and the female guard went about their ministrations. The guard leaned in closer and softly licked the inner flesh of Megan’s parted buttocks.

Megan closed her eyes tightly and began to tense up now. The guard was stroking the very center of her sexual being. Megan’s clit swelled between the guard’s wet fingers.

Gina felt so ashamed for allowing this to turn her on, especially since Lor, a woman, was doing this to her. But partly from fear, partly from lust Gina decided to do as Lor had suggested – she "rode".

It was time now. Megan was about to come. But just as her ass and cunt began too shudder with the impending orgasm, the guard grasped Megan’s clit between the nails of her thumb and index finger and pulled sharply. Megan‘s eyes shot open as the guard shoved the sharp end of the ring through the swollen clit.

Megan’s ensuing scream set Gina on fire as her own orgasm coursed through her body.

Once again Megan was thrashing about in her inescapable bondage. But this time the pain was accompanied by the mind warping orgasm given to her by the skilled but sadistic hands of the guard.

The guard sealed the clit ring shut and withdrew, licking Megan’s sweet juices from her fingertips.

Lor leaned over to Gina, kissed her full on the lips and said, "you’re going to get along here just fine, Gina, just fine."

Gina watched as Megan was unchained from her position over the pole. As she stood, her hands were cuffed behind her. Then the female who had administered the branding and the piercing attached a short leather leash to Megan’s new clit ring. Megan seemed to get the picture and followed as the guard began down a corridor into the dark.

Lor barked an order to the guards who held Gina, "take her to Lab 1. It’s time for Gina to remember…"

Chapter Three. The History Lesson

Gina was guided firmly but gently down one of the many tunnels that led away from the cavern of pain where all the girls seemed to begin their journey in Underland.

The tunnel was lined with torches and Lor walked just ahead. The screams, grunts, and moans behind them began to fade as they walked farther into the bowels of Underland.

Presently Lor stopped and turned to face Gina.

"Are you ready to have all your questions answered?" she asked Gina, "Are you ready to assume your intended role among us here in Underland?"

Gina could only think to nod in compliance. The only other choice she could think of was awaiting her in the cavern where "Festival" still raged on unabated.

Lor turned to the wall and touched a rock that was embedded there. To Gina’s surprise a door made from the living rock swung soundlessly open into a completely black interior. Lor reached inside and produced two pair of goggles. They were dark sunglasses for the guards. Lor placed them over their eyes and then, returning to the open door, flicked on the lights.

Gina squinted her eyes as the fluorescent bulbs obliterated the stygian gloom of the tunnel.

Lor walked into the glaring whiteness of "Lab 1" with the two guards and Gina close behind.

Tables, tile floors, gurneys, computers, medical supplies! Gina could easily be in a modern scientific laboratory if not for the many objects and mechanisms whose purpose could only be sadistic in nature.

"More questions with each step my love," said Lor, "but soon enough you will know all."

Then, to the guards Lor said, "Gentlemen, you may proceed."

Gina’s hands were raised over her head and fastened into black leather manacles hanging from chains in the ceiling. Then her ankles were separated and manacled in like fashion to the floor. Lor pushed buttons on a control panel on the wall and Gina felt the chains quartering her. Her feet left the floor and soon Gina was hanging from the ceiling with her arms and legs spread widely apart in the shape of an X. She wore nothing at all since she had stepped out of her jeans back in the cave. Fear began to tickle at the pit of her stomach.

Had this all been an elaborate ruse to make her feel at ease? Would the torture begin now?

Lor pressed another button and a panel in the wall slipped silently away.

"Report!" shouted Lor clapping her hands.

Four beautiful young girls suddenly appeared from behind the panel and hurried over to where Gina hung stretched and spread-eagle from the ceiling.

"There, there now Gina", said Lor, "you are bound only for your own protection; and ours. The effects of "The Learning" are often unpredictable.

Many of our initiates react very violently."

Walking closer and placing a hand on Gina’s thigh Lor continued, "You are a product of selective breeding. You are a splendid specimen, but to be complete, you must experience your heritage first hand – through the eyes of those who lived it."

Two of the girls were carrying buckets which they began to fill with warm water from a nearby sink. The other two girls busied themselves with rounding up sponges, soaps, and towels.

One of the girls, a beautiful latina, slammed into a tray holding medical implements, sending the tray and its contents crashing to the floor.

"Maria, you clumsy cunt!" shouted Lor. "You dare embarrass me in front of our special guest?"

Lor pressed two of the buttons in succession and Maria collapsed onto the floor screaming and clutching her groin.

Gina could see that the girl wore a leather thong with a strip of metal running between her legs and up between the lips of her cunt. It appeared to Gina that this was the source of discomfort. A harsh electric current was being applied to the girl’s privates.

While the girl writhed in agony, Gina noticed that all the girls wore the same type of thong. They also had rings in their nipples, labia, and clit, as well as the brand on their asses. The thongs that the girls wore had been threaded through the clit ring and locked in place behind. Their ensemble was completed with a black dog collar around each tender neck. Gina also noticed that the guards, who stood silently nearby, became aroused at the sight of Maria’s punishment. The size of their cocks was truly frightening when Gina saw them reach a full erection.

"Hear her screams Gina?" said Lor, "She is singing in the language of slaves. Its quite the popular tune down here – always on the top 10 list."

Gina watched Maria writhe in pain, her pretty brown eyes fluttering open wide. Her full pouting lips distorted into a rictus of pain.

Maria, who lay screaming on the floor received a swift kick in the stomach as Lor worked the remote control and shut off the current .

"You are weak Maria," said Lor in an admonishing tone, "you give in to the punishment far too swiftly. Watch how well Sara deals with the pain!"

Sara gently placed the towels and sponges she carried onto the floor below Gina. She knew what was coming and would not beg or resist. Lor pressed the buttons again and Sara tensed noticeably as the current began to flow through her vaginal lips. Slowly she sank to the floor and lay there shaking but never screamed or thrashed around like Maria had.

Lor knelt beside Sara and stroked her soft blond hair. Sara looked up into Lor’s eyes with an almost worshipful gaze. Her expression began to glaze over with pain as Lor increased the voltage. Sara shook even harder now every muscle in her superb body thrumming and tense, but still she would not scream.

Lor shut off the current and Sara slumped onto the floor like a rag doll. Sara immediately pulled herself to a half sitting position and reached for the sponges and towels she had laid at Gina’s feet. Lor stopped her.

"You rest a moment Sara," Lor said to her, "you are a good girl and I will honor you with a special gift. Kneel before Gina." Sara knelt if front of Gina’s crotch staring straight ahead at Gina’s glistening sex.

"Shave her Sara", instructed Lor.

Sara shook the shaving cream and sprayed a thick handful onto Gina’s crotch. Gina began to squirm as Sara massaged the cream onto the soft thatch of pubic hair. Sara closely inspected Gina’s ass and spread more cream there as well.

"Go ahead Sara," Lor instructed, "work in into every crevice. We don’t want to miss anything."

Gina squirmed noticeably as Sara massaged the thick white cream into her ass and cunt. Sara’s deft fingers even spread Gina’s sphincter and pushed inside then quickly pulled back out again. Gina jerked at the intrusion but didn’t object. She discovered that she wanted it to happen again, but deeper this time. Gina glanced over at the guards who stood silently watching the proceedings. Their huge pricks had begun to ooze pre-cum. Was she expected to accommodate these monsters into her virgin cunt and ass?

Next came the blade. Sara skillfully shaved every hair from Gina’s ass and cunt until she was as bare as a baby. Sara toweled Gina off then massaged lotion onto the freshly shaved girl’s privates. This only made Gina squirm more. Ashamedly Gina had to admit to herself that she could come again in no time if Sara kept this up much longer. But Sara completed her task too soon for Gina to orgasm and simply knelt before Gina’s glistening cunt awaiting further instructions.

"Maria", said Lor, "see to the guards, they seem to be at odds with themselves."

Maria’s eyes widened and it appeared as if she were about to protest, but Lor was ready for this and slapped the controls quickly on then off again. Maria let out a yelp as her body jerked momentarily. She hurried over to the guards and knelt before them. The men regarded her nearly naked form then watched for Lor’s consent. When Lor nodded, the guards seized Maria and slammed her body roughly onto the tile floor. Lor smiled and kicked a large box of "toys" over to the guards. Inside were all sorts of clamps, gags, dildos, cuffs, flogs and whips. Maria was quickly gagged and dragged by her hair in front of Gina who watched as the helpless girl was savaged. Maria was cuffed and hung from a chain about three feet directly in front of Gina. Her body swung freely as the guards suspended her there. Alligator clamps were attaced to Maria’s nipples and weights were hung by short chains from the rings in her labia and clitoris. Maria’s thong was removed and Gina saw that a long thin metal rod had been deeply inserted and held in place by the thong. But soon there would be other things, warm things, and much larger things to occupy that space.

Then as the whips began to fall on Maria’s dark skin, Lor approached the "X"-tied Gina.

"It is time to begin Gina", said Lor.

Gina noticed that Lor had a hypodermic needle in one hand. Lor went to Gina’s rear; slapped her ass hard then sunk the needle and its contents into the firm red flank.

"This is just a sedative combined with a neural enhancer," said Lor, "You will need both if you are to survive the ordeal intact. Lor barked orders to the other girls.

Almost immediately Gina began to feel woozy but more aware of her surroundings at the same time.

Everything in the room and its purpose became clear to her. She sensed other things as well. The primitive thoughts of the guards, Maria’s tormented mind, the other girls, and finally Lor’s mind became clear to Gina.

("Pretty amazing stuff isn’t it Gina?") said Lor – without moving her lips!

Gina began to speak but her mind was faster. ("What’s happening to me,

Lor?"). Gina thought this, she did not have to utter a sound yet Lor heard every word.

("Just relax Gina let it wash over you"), Lor thought back, ("Whatever you do, just DON’T FIGHT IT!")

Lor wheeled a machine over and parked it below Gina’s widely spread legs. Gina knew what it was for and began to tense up. When the first electrode was attached to her right temple Gina actually heard the echoes of minds that had been here before. Other women in the same situation. The next electrode was pasted onto her left temple and she heard voices of the other women. Some screamed, some begged, others gibbered incoherently. Yet some were silent and deadly calm in their minds. These were the ones who had come through this intact with their minds whole and in one hugely expanded piece.

Gina groped for Lor’s mind but the mental doorway had been shut. The thoughts of all the others were loud but jumbled and confused with the echoes of past recipients of the "The Learning".

Gina shut them out one by one and tried to clear her mind.

"Sara," said Lor, "please prepare Gina’s rear entrance for the Snake."

Gina knew now about the snake, which wasn’t really a snake at all. Instead it was a product of purification made from stainless steel and moving parts. It was about 45 feet long, most of which would soon be inside Gina’s body. She could envision its long metallic body as it rose up out of the machine and began to seek her ass. Its purpose was to remove all impurities and examine her internally for any possible health problems.

Sara produced a bottle of lubricant from a compartment in the machine parked between Gina’s legs. She popped the top and poured a generous amount of the thick liquid into one cupped hand. After replacing the bottle into its compartment, Sara reached up to Gina’s ass and, with both hands, began the process of "preparing Gina’s rear entrance."

Gina felt Sara’s nimble fingers probe her ass and, finding their target, sliding inside. The first insertions were slow but shallow. But the fingers pushed in deeper as Gina’s tunnel became better lubricated.

Gina had never had any one or anyone do this to her before much less a woman!

She had always been a "Good Girl" – no flirting, no heavy petting, and certainly no sexual contact. Funny how things can change so quickly. Now Gina wanted nothing more than to feel Sara’s fingers slide deeper and deeper into her ass.

Next Gina heard a whir and then a humming sound as a metal plate slid open and the snake began to rise up from the apparatus.

Then she felt the tip of the metal snake touch the back of her ass

and grope for an entrance. Sara grasped the tip of the snake and, parting Gina’s cheeks, guided the "head" of the thing inside.

Vaguely Gina heard Lor instruct Sara to "lick her slit" and immediately felt Sara’s hot breath and warm tongue carressing her newly shaven cunt.

The snake slowly forced its length in as Gina hung there trembling slightly.

Then the two other girls knelt at Lor’s feet. One in front and the other behind. They’d been here before and knew their places. Their tunguoe and lips began to lick and suck Lor’s cunt and ass.

"Let it Begin!!" Lor shouted as the electrodes were activated and Gina’s brain threatened to lose its moorings. The "Learning" had begun.

While Gina was aware of Sara’s soft tongue, of the snake (now at least 3 into its temporary home), of Maria’s garbled screams, of all the things going on around her in the lab (except Lor’s mind) she was also aware that she must clear them away. For Gina was being called by voices in a strange tongue spoken by a race that had all but disappeared nearly 80,000 years ago.

Gina closed her mind and to the physical things happening to her and the others in the lab, and opened it to the voice that called her by name. Now the voices became louder as Gina felt herself swept up in a vortex that yanked her out of her physical self and into the race memory of her ancestors.

She found herself running across a wide grassy plain. Fear beat in her heart for her pursuers were gaining. She could hear their shouts as they closed the distance. But Gina was fast and the cliffs were just ahead. She heard the voice calling her. It was her mother calling her from the caves in the face of the cliff.

Gina’s name here was Dura, and her mother Ladra was pleading for her to hurry.

So close now; the caves were only 200 strides ahead and soon those who pursued her would have to break off and retreat, for the men of Dura’s tribe were very strong and could throw large rocks with deadly accuracy.

Dura could see the lines on her mother’s face now and the men of her tribe lined up on the cliff waiting for "outsiders" to come within range of their stones.

Dura thought she was safe now, she no longer heard the shouts behind her. She risked a glance over her shoulder in time to see three large black outsiders swing the "Lathur" around their heads. Each Lathur consisted of three round stones attached by long leather strips of cowhide. Dura had seen many of her people fall in mid-stride as these things wrapped around their legs tripping them up. Always the women were taken. Always the young; and none were never seen again.

Suddenly Dura heard the whistling as the lathur were thrown.

She heard one whiz close by landing with a thud in the grass to one side. Then, as she leapt instinctively, another flew just below her nimble feet. The rocks of her people began to fill the sky now as the last lathur was thrown. Dura heard it but was too late to dodge. The twisted hide wrapped itself around first one foot then the other and sent her crashing to the earth. The shouts of her people who ran to help were much farther away than those who screamed in victory. The three Outsiders were on her in seconds and trussed her hand and foot. A large rock landed squarely on the head of one of the dark men and crushed his skull. The other two seemed to take no notice as one threw Dura over a muscular shoulder and began to bear her away.

Suddenly, out of the tall grass leapt thirty or forty Outsiders with their long bows and spears. They had been lying there in wait.

Dura saw three of her people fall before the rest retreated to the safety of the cliffs where the caves would hide them from the deadly projectiles.

The rough rawhide strips cut into her wrists and ankles as another was wrapped around her neck and Dura (Gina) was forced to walk leashed like an animal. Their progress was leisurely, after all they had sent the cliff dwellers running to hide.

If when Dura tried to slow or struggle she felt a vigorous tug at her leash or the tip of a spear at her back along with taunts and threats in a language she couldn’t understand.

They met up with other groups of Outsiders along the way and Dura was joined by the neck to other girls who had been taken.

One group had tired of waiting and had begun to take pleasure in their new acquisitions. Dura watched as three girls, all from her tribe, were whipped and raped by twelve Outsiders.

One of the girls was suspended from the branch of a tree. Her feet dangled only inches off the ground. An outsider was behind her raping her ass while one of the women Outsiders whipped her hard across her bare sweating breasts and stomach. Her body twisted and jerked as she tried to free herself. Her sobbing pleas for mercy only fanned the flames of lust.

Another girl had been forced back over a small boulder; her feet and hands were drawn and quartered; held in place by rope tied to wooden stakes in the ground. Three female Outsiders tortured her ruthlessly. They had tightly bound her breasts around their bases. Her tits had turned purple as one of the women beat them with a stick while the other woman squatted over her head and emptied her bowels in the poor girl’s open and screaming mouth. Still another of the female Outsiders was busily trying to shove a thick dildo up the poor girl’s virgin cunt. The dildo seemed to be made of bone or ivory. Dura had arrived just in time to see the head of the massive bone cock slam its way into the abused girl’s pussy. She bucked furiously as it was forced into her hole. The women laughed uproariously as the poor girl’s screams escalated even as she gagged around a mouthful of shit.

The last girl, one of Dura’s best friends named Lor, was being gang-raped by seven of the males. They took turns holding while the others raped her from both ends. Lor’s face and ass was caked with cum.

Eventually they grew tired of their sport and all the girls were collared with wide strips of rawhide. Then each collar was joined together with a three foot length of rope. Their hands and elbows were tied together behind them.

When they finally joined up with the last group, there was a total of 15 girls tied neck to neck. Many of the girls sobbed openly, others just shuffled along quietly in a daze. The three girls who had been tortured shuffled along listlessly at the rear of the column. Two guards, one on each side, walked along on either side with whip in hand to keep the girls moving.

The sun began to set into the great water beyond the plains and the colors were magnificent hues of orange, pink, and gray. Dura’s eyes watered as she remembered an earlier time in her mother’s arms when they would watch the sunset over their world in peace and security before the coming of the Outsiders and the birth of slavery.

A single tear rolled down her cheek as the raiding party of the Outsiders headed back home with their stolen treasure of fresh slaves girls.

Chapter 4 - Hell and Back

Training Begins

They’d been walking for hours now and the noonday sun beat down hard on their naked golden brown flesh. The girls stumbled often now and when one fell, half the line would fall with her since all the slaves were joined by one leash around their necks. This was when the whips fell fast and furious until all the girls were back up and moving.

All during the previous night they had been deprived of sleep. The Outsiders had taken turns at watch as well as whipping, beating or simply raping the girls; anything to keep the captives awake. The moon was full and there was plenty of light. Everything that happened to one prisoner the rest were forced to watch.

Once a particularly sadistic female Outsider was on watch and decided to hang one of the slaves to entertain herself. The woman was trying to decide which girl to torture when she noticed that a young blonde had managed to fall asleep.

She was immediately untied from the rest of the prisoners and dragged over to a tree. Fully awake now she tried in vain to struggle as her wrists and ankles were bound tightly together leaving her in a strict hog-tie. Then the Outsider tossed a rope over a branch and tied the other end around her victim’s neck. She slowly pulled the struggling female into the air by her neck. The girl’s eyes and tongue bulged and she began to jerk spasmodically in mid-air. Her bowels and bladder let go all at once as she began to lose consciousness. The Outsider dropped her back to the ground and loosened the rope. Then she slapped the girl’s face and pinched her nipples until she began to come around. As soon as the girl was awake enough to beg and struggle, the Outsider lifted her off the ground again by the rope around her neck. This process was repeated many times until the guard got bored and decided it was time for a change.

She tied the rope around the young girl’s feet and ankles and raised her back off the ground still hog-tied. Her back bent painfully and each rib stood outlined against her wet skin in the moonlight. The girl was left suspended about three feet off the ground in this position. The Outsider knelt down in front of the girl and yanked her head up by the hair and, without warning shoved a smooth round stone into the poor girl’s mouth. It was so large that it barely fit without dislocating her jaw. Then when the stone was snugly in place, the guard wrapped a short length of leather around the girl’s head to keep the rock in her mouth. Now, still holding the girl by the hair, the woman began to grind her cunt against the girl’s face. She especially used the victim’s nose to part her pussy lips and stimulate her clit. The girl swung back and forth as the guard shoved her sex against the upturned face. Soon the torturess began to climax and, in doing so, completely coated her victim’s face with her gooey cum. With one final shudder the guard completed her climax. She slipped the knot that held the girl suspended from the tree branch and let her free fall the three feet to the ground. The woman walked away leaving the tortured hog-tied girl gasping for breath. The woman’s watch was over but moments later another Outsider was there to take her place.

The torture these Outsiders used was more than just physical. It was also psychological. They knew there would be no resistance if they managed to break their captives’ will. But at the same time they wanted the girl’s to be healthy enough to endure the journey to the homeland of the Outsiders – and especially the festivities to follow their arrival. The girls were given water and strips of dried jerky twice a day. Breaks were rare but even then, the captive girls were made to stay in the sun while the Outsiders lounged in the shade.

By late afternoon the land had begun to get hilly, and the going became even more difficult for the prisoners especially since the Outsiders began to drive them on faster. Soon the girls were forced to jog, the whips landing on tender flesh more and more often. After about half an hour had gone by the girls were sweating heavily and were almost done in. They would not have been able to go on much further if they had not reached their destination, for as they topped a final hill they saw the village of the outsiders in the valley below.

A great horn sounded immediately when the travelers crested the top of the hill that overlooked the Outsider village. Soon other horns joined in from the valley. One of the Outsiders next to Dura took the hollowed horn of a great bull out of his bag and blew into it. This produced a sound much like the horns they all heard in the valley. The huge wooden gates were thrown open and people streamed out. The girls were forced to begin the last part of their march down into the valley and to their destination.

Dura felt a mighty tug on her neck and thought that one of the other girls had fallen again. When she turned she saw that instead of falling, the girl behind her was trying desperately to escape. She was tugging backwards with all her might at the leash that connected her to all the other girls. This only caused them all to fall in a great heap. Escape, at this stage of the game, was impossible.

The Outsiders all acted in concert now. They all set to work on the girls with whips, sticks, and the tips of spears. Soon the girls were back up, in line and jogging down the hill towards the mob that was rushing up to meet them. As the girls neared the village they saw hints of the debauchery already in process there. There seemed to be human forms hanging from trees, staked out on the ground, and draped across frames made of wood. But these had all been abandoned as the villagers came to greet their new arrivals.

Soon the girls were surrounded by the Outsiders from the village. Although Dura couldn’t understand their speech she got the overall meaning of the conversations. She could tell by the appreciative sounds that the new girls were in for less than a hospitable greeting.

Soon they were all within the village and the gates slammed shut behind them.

The girls were sweating from the run they’d been forced to endure. They were tired and hungry and very thirsty and many were only barely conscious.

They were all led stumbling into a large hut where they saw women of their own kind waiting with food and water.

A large Outsider came into the hut followed by a few other villagers. When he entered the girls who had already been in the hut knelt immediately with their heads down. The big Outsider said something in his own language and one of the girls stood and approached the fifteen new arrivals.

"This is Mogu," she said gesturing to the Outsider who had just spoken, "he has ordered me to give you all food and water and while you eat you will be told why you are here."

The other girls busied themselves with tying the new slave’s ankles together and forcing them to kneel around a low wooden table. The smell of bread and the sight of the water made all the hungry slaves ravenous.

"Mogu," said the girl, "is master of this village. There are many other villages near and far. They are all coming here to compete against each other in many events. There will be many prizes awarded to the winners.

You are the prizes."

The girls glanced fearfully at each other but dared not speak.

" There are many others from your caves who have been captured and brought here for these games. I am Arla. I have been taught their language and I am one of Mogu’s personal slaves. I do whatever he wishes whenever he wishes. I speak only when I am spoken to. I do not beg or resist. I have been trained in the ways to pleasure any man or woman."

After saying this, Arla went to Mogu and knelt before him.

Mogu stood with legs apart and stared down at the naked submissive slave awaiting his order. Mogu stared around the room and spoke to the new ones.

Arla began to translate; "Mogu welcomes you and says that you are to feel honored; for you among all your people have been found beautiful enough to be given as gifts to those who will come here to compete. You will be fed and bathed and made ready. Then, when tomorrow’s games begin, you will be given to the winners each day. They will do with you as they please and you will do whatever pleases them without hesitation."

Mogu spoke to Arla. "This is Mogu’s wish that I will now fulfill. Watch, my sisters, and learn your place. "

One of the other girls, approached Arla from behind with a long whip and raised it over her head. Dura recognized the girl with the whip. She had disappeared about six moons ago. Her name was Nor. Arla reached forward and untied Mogu’s loincloth away and took his soft cock into her hands. She began to lick the length of the shaft as Mogu became erect. Then Nor, the girl with the whip, let one lash fall across Arla’s back. She flinched but did not stop licking Mogu. The whip left an angry red mark between her shoulder blades. Mugu’s member was quite large now and Arla began to concentrate of the spot just beneath the head. Then another lash of the whip sliced across Arla’s ass. She flinched again but did not cry out. Instead Arla opened her mouth and took the huge cock fully into her mouth. Mogu grabbed the Arla by both ears and used them for handles to slide her head back and forth along his huge swollen shaft. As Mogu began to skull fuck the girl’s open mouth faster, so too the whip fell. Soon Arla’s back and ass was a mass of red streaks. Then when it became apparent that Mogu was about to come, Nor ran forward and, kneeling between Arla’s legs, forced the handle of the whip up into her cunt, Arla grunted hard as the thick whip handle slid deep inside.

Mogu stiffened and forced his cock all the way into Arla’s mouth as he began to pump streams of hot cum into Arla’s ravaged face. The new prisoners watched on in horror as Arla gagged and choked on the huge cum-spurting member while Nor viciously fucked her with the whip handle.

After Mogu finished raping his slave’s face he slowly withdrew his cock. Arla made sure to keep all his cum in her mouth not spilling a single drop. Nor, leaving the whip’s handle deeply embedded in Arla’s box, quickly went around front and pressed her lips against Arla’s. It was a long deep kiss. Dura could see that Arla’s cheeks were deflating while the other girl’s mouth was being filled with Mogu’s cum.

When the exchange was done and Nor’s mouth was quite full she got up and walked over to the table where Dura and the other fresh girls sat waiting. Then she slowly spit the white gooey cum into a wooden bowl.

Dura glanced back over and saw that Arla was now sucking another of the men’s cocks. Nor went back to Arla’s side and waited. Soon the other man began to come. The kiss was repeated then the bowl was used once again.

This went on again and again until each man had been serviced. Mogu and the other men turned to go and the slave girls, both trained and fresh, were left alone.

Dura and the other girls were all still kneeling with their wrists and ankles tied. The other trained slaves now stood behind them, one to one while Nor poured some of the collected cum into a bowl placed before each kneeling girl.

"You will be fed after you lap the Master’s cum from the bowl", said Arla, "anyone who refuses will be used as entertainment for the entire village and will serve as an example to the others. You must obey, there is no other choice. "

Dura wanted to survive, she wanted to escape, she wanted revenge. So, even though it disgusted her, she immediately leaned over and began to lick and suck the salty goo from the bowl in front of her. At one point she nearly gagged but still managed to suck the slime into her mouth and down her throat. When she sat back up the trained slave behind her patted her on the shoulder and murmered her approval.

Some of the others hadn’t been able to finish their act of submission so easily and were being "helped" by the trainers by having their heads pushed into the bowls.

"Suck it down bitch," Dura heard one trainer say.

"No! No I won’t", said the girl across the table, "how can you want me to do this? You are from the same tribe as me! We were friends before…"

Her words were suddenly cut off by a swift kick to the stomach. The girl flew backwards and landed on her back then doubled up on her side into a fetal position unable to catch her breath. Two of the trainers grabbed the struggling girl by the ankles and dragged her to the door of the hut. They spoke a few words in the Outsider’s tongue and the door opened. Two outsider guards reached inside and grabbed the girl by the hair pulling her out into the hot sunlight.

"Her fate is sealed", said Arla, "she refused an order. Hesitation is not tolerated. Only by strict obedience can you expect to survive!"

They heard shouting and laughing as the girl was dragged away. Next they heard screams from the doomed girl as her torture began.

The other girls were given food and water. Next they were bathed and fitted with thin tunics that came down just below the thigh. Then their hands and feet were tied together in a loose hog-tie and they were allowed to sleep on the rough floor of the hut.

The Games Begin

Dura was shaken awake by Arla and was told that the games were about to start. The gloom inside the hut told Dura that night had fallen and that they’d been asleep for quite a long while.

Each girl was untied and made to stand. They were led single file out of the hut and toward the center of the village. Guards were everywhere, escape was not possible.

All the warriors stood and watched as the girls were led past them. Dura felt many eyes on her. Soon the girls were led into a large pen and were forced inside with at least fifty other women and girls. Some of these were from Dura’s tribe but others were of a different breed. These were darker skinned women. Their lips were fuller and their hair was shorter and kinky. Dura thought they were very beautiful. But, of course all the slave girls here were chosen for their beauty.

All the females in the pen wore the same type of sheer tunic that Dura wore. They were all equal in the eyes of their captors; little more than meat existing solely to serve their masters.

Then Dura heard murmuring and some of the girls gasped while pointing at a large tree a few yards away from the pen. Dura caught her breath as she saw what was happening there.

Three girls were enduring excruciating tortures at the hands of some of the villagers. One girl was hung from the tree by her hair. Her hands drawn up high behind her back and tied to the leather collar around her neck. Her legs were spread wide apart and tied by the ankles to stakes in the ground. Both her nipples had been pierced and were fitted with large golden rings. Her mouth was open wide and her tongue was pulled down toward her chest, it had also been pierced with a golden hoop and was tied to her nipples. Now one of the villagers knelt between her legs and lifted up a large, smooth branch and pressed it against the hanging girl’s mound.

The only sound that came from the hanging girl’s mouth was a strangled moan of terror as the branch was forced inside her cunt. When the branch had been pushed inside a little way, the villager grabbed the base of the branch and pushed up with all his might . The branch was forced an arm’s length into the girl’s body. Cheers went up from around the crowd as the girl screamed and jerked spasmodically in her bondage.

Now a servant and a female Outsider walked over to another beaten and bruised girl and forced her struggling over a rack that left her ass up high, spread, and fully exposed. Her wrists and ankles were tied to the base of the rack on either side. Dura recognized her as the one who had been taken from the hut. The one who had refused to swallow the bowl of cum that she’d been given.

Her body bore whelts and bruises from the multiple beatings she’d endured after since this afternoon. Her upturned ass glistened wetly in the torchlight. She’d been raped more than once in both holes, but that was nothing compared to what was coming next.

The crowd that stood by enjoying the spectacle opened up at one end to make way for a servant girl who led a huge black animal into the circle behind the defenseless girl. It was a leviathan bull. The ring in its nose was all that kept it in check. The animal was led up behind the slave and its nose forced into her pussy. At once the bull’s eyes widened and a deep rumbling came from its throat. A trained slave was now kneeling beside the bull and had begun to stroke its cock and balls. The bull immediately began to try and mount the girl but was held back until the trained-slave had stroked him to a complete erection. Now excited beyond control the bull was released and climbed clumsily onto the rack where the screaming girl struggled futilely beneath its mass. The trained-slave guided the immense cock by hand to the opening of the victim’s pussy. Then the bull was whipped on its flanks once. The animal bucked forward and the huge cock sunk into the warm body of the slave.

The crowd screamed its approval but the slave screamed even louder as the bull began to drive in and out of her cunt. Her eyes and mouth were open wide. She began to drool. Her body glistened with perspiration. Her breasts bounced heavily back and forth with each thrust. Each muscle flexed; pushing and pulling in a panicked attempt to dislodge the massive beast.

Her screams were that of a mindless animal. No trace of rational thought was left in this body that suffered the mad lust-crazes thrusts of the beast.

The bull fucked the girl for what seemed like an eternity. Dura wondered why it did not come and be done with, but what Dura did not know was that the Outsiders had scored the bull’s prick with hot spear tips when it was young. This lowered the animal’s sensitivity and allowed the monster to fuck for hours.

The bull slathered its thick drool onto its fuck puppet’s back as it proceeded to rape her nearly to death.

But just when Dura thought she had seen the worst possible punishment, she gasped in horror at what now assailed her senses.

The third girl was hanging upside down by one foot. Her naked body swayed gently back and forth from the rope that held her in suspension. Her other foot was tied to her hands behind her. She had gone all but unnoticed as the other two girls under went their torments. But now it was her turn.

Dura recognized her as well. Her name was Dagmara. They had also been friends once upon a time before the Outsiders had discovered them.

Two trained slaves untied the knot that held her leg and hands together.

"Please, Oh please!" begged Dagmara, "I will do anything you ask, I will –Uuungghhh!!"

Her pleas were cut short by a hard punch to the stomach and through a haze of pain she heard the servant girl say; "you had your chance and you decided to disobey, you even struck one of the Outsiders! You will suffer more than the other two and for the longest. You are to serve as an example to your sisters who stand in the pen and watch."

Then they tied her other foot to another branch far enough away so that her legs were spread wide apart. Her sex was splayed open and completely exposed to the warm night air. The servant girls now laid a thick stick across her bare back and bent her elbows across this then tied her wrists together in front.

One of the servant girls grabbed a breast and brutally twisted Dagmara’s pert nipple illiciting a short cry of pain.

"Just checking to see that you are still with us, little slut" said the servant, "you are to be the first attraction. The games begin with you."

They left Dagmara hanging in silent misery from the tree branch and went back to the girl and the bull. They laid a large wooden bowl on the ground between her legs so as to catch all the slime from the bull’s ejaculate. Then the girls knelt behind the madly bucking beast and began to stroke its shaft as it thrust in and out of the poor slave’s vagina. They cupped, fondled, and licked its balls as well; anything to hurry the impending orgasm and subsequent ejaculation. Soon the bull roared and shoved itself down upon the slave girl’s body penetrating her deeper than ever. Its balls contracted and its cock began to spasm pumping hot jets of cum into the girl’s fuck tunnel. The creature thrashed against the screaming girl’s hindquarters until it’s load was spent. After pumping its copious load of seed into the ravaged cunt, the bull dismounted and was led away.

Now the bowl between her legs began to fill as the bull’s cum gushed out of the raped girl’s tunnel.

Dura looked at the crowd and noticed that many of the warriors – both male and female – were being serviced orally by other trained servant girls who knelt and bobbed their heads up and down on their owner’s sex.

Still other warriors were preparing their weapons; sharpening spearheads and stringing their bows.

Some girls were bent over and were being fucked from behind. This way the warriors could screw their slaves and still watch the spectacle of torture going on before them.

Soon the bowl was nearly full. One of the servants knelt behind the bound girl and shoved a fist easily into the girl’s lubricated and stretched vagina. The bound girl shuddered only one time then went limp again. The servant girl’s arm went in past her elbow. After one thrust she pulled her arm out coated with slime from the bull’s cum.

Then, with no warning, the servant stood up and shoved the slime-covered fist into the girl’s nether tunnel with all her might. The girl began to thrash and scream all over once again as the fisted arm began to slide into her ass

The crowd cheered as the servant girl began to pump her arm in and out of the slave’s backsides. The gasping cries of pain and humiliation from the racked slave girl only boosted the crowd’s taunting.

But all of this was just a preliminary to the debauchery that was about to take place over the next few days. The games were simply an excuse to rape, torture and exert total sexual dominion over the slave girls.

The girl on the rack and the girl with the pierced tongue and nipples were untied and forced into the pen with the other slaves.

Some of the girls there wept openly, others simply stared in horrified disbelief. Still others stared blankly at nothing at all, but seemed to be in shock. Dura, however, was bent on escape but knew that she would need to learn all there was to know about these Outsiders and their weapons. She would follow any order, she would accept or inflict pain or sexual favor on command. She would be the ideal slave. Then when the time was right, she would flee back to her people. Then there would be war and a time to avenge.

Now she watched as attention was turned back to Dagmara.

The two servant girls began to climb the tree from which Dagmara hung by her heels. They reached a branch just above her widely tied legs and shouted something to the Outsiders. The Outsiders all responded in unison. Then two large warriors, a male and a female, appeared out of the crowd carrying a huge iron rod. It was about 12 feet long and at least four inches wide. One end was tapered to a sharp point.

The two outsiders handed the iron pipe up into the tree to the servant girls who waited there. Then the two warriors turned to the crowd and shouted words that Dura could not understand. The crowd responded shouting in unison once again.

Dura saw, in the first rays of the fast approaching dawn what lay in store for Dagmara. The rod was positioned vertically and was hung from a rope directly over Dagmara’s virgin pussy. The rod was lowered until the sharp tapered end pressed against her cunt lips, spreading them and penetrating her no more than an inch. Dagmara winced as the cold iron touched home but said nothing.

Now the bowl that held the Bull’s cum was raised up into the tree and a portion was poured into the upper end of the rod. As Dura watched she noticed that there were many small holes along the sides of the hollow rod and the cum began to leak out of these holes covering the surface of the rod. Dura saw this for what it was – Lubrication.

Then another rope was tied in place, but this one was had a little slack. Now a third and a fourth rope were attached, each one had more and more slack.

It was fully dawn now as the archers lined up to take aim. The servant girls stayed in the tree but moved off to either side to be out of the way of the archer’s aim.

Dura watched as the first bowman fitted an arrow to his bow. Is arm was steady and his aim was sure. The arrow flew through the air and struck the first rope severing it neatly.

The iron rod dropped a full six inches into Dagmar’s defenseless body. "Aaarggh!" she screamed as her maidenhead was breached and the rod became her lover. She arched her back and struggled knowing there was no escape but unable to hang still without an attempt to dislodge the intruder.

Now another archer knelt and took aim at the second rope. The bowstring thrummed and the shaft dropped another six inches.

Dagmar’s screams and struggles were redoubled as the rod sank a full foot into her tender flesh.

The bright morning sun shone down fully now on the girl hanging from the tree in the middle of the Outsider’s village. Her tanned skin shone with perspiration. Her eyes were wide with fear and panic as she grasped her fate.

Dura watched in horror as rope after rope was severed by the arrows and the rod sank further into Dagmar’s body. Now the two servants were called down from the tree and were bid to hold Dagmar’s body still as the last rope was about to be severed. Dagmar’s eyes were wide in terror. As the last archer fitted arrow to bow.

A female warrior stepped up behind Dagmar. She grabbed a handful of hair and pulled up and back. The arrow flew, the last rope was cut clean, and the iron rod slid neatly out of Dagmar’s mouth and sunk into the soft earth below.

The poor girl was now fully impaled on this huge phallic rod. Three feet of iron stuck out of her body on each end. But the true horror was that Dagmar was not dead. Her eyes flickered and her body twitched and shook around the rod.

Her ropes were cut and her ankles were bound around the rod. The rod was lifted out of the earth and, with two servant girls carrying each end of the rod, Dagmar was carried over to a smoldering fire that had ceased to burn about an hour earlier. Now only hot coals remained. Each end of the rod was placed into awaiting iron receptacles. Each was shaped like a "Y" and held the girl about three feet over the burning coals.

They were going to cook Dagmara alive. Roast her tender young body like a common pig.

Now Dura understood why the other girls of her tribe who had been here awhile were such loyal and willing servants. Dagmar’s fate was obviously not a sought after alternative to submitting to the life of a slave.

Dura watched as another smaller shaft was shoved into Dagmar’s asshole. This was then fixed onto the larger iron rod that impaled her. It would keep her steady as she was turned.

A handle was inserted into the end of the rod, the coals were stirred and a servant began to turn Dagmar’s twitching body slowly over the red hot coals. The bowl of bull’s cum was rubbed onto her body to help baste her flesh.

Dura turned slowly away as her heart turned to stone. Crying was for later and fear was not allowed. She vowed to herself that she would survive, she would learn their ways, learn their crafts, learn to kill...

Chapter 5 -

The games went on for two weeks. Each of the new girls had been raped and tortured again and again. A girl was given to a warrior each time an event was won and a certain amount of points were awarded. The warrior was allowed to use the slave as they saw fit for one day, then the slave was returned to the pens to be cleaned, fed, and nursed back to health.

As the games reached their conclusion, it would be decided which warriors had the most points. The winner would get to keep ten slaves. Second place would get six, and third would leave with four girls in tow. Of the remaining girls; some would be trained to labor and for sexual servitude, or possibly traded for goods.

Dura stood in the pen. They had all been examined like beasts. Hands poking, prodding, an occasional slap followed by a whimper of pain. A female Outlander had forced DuraТs mouth open and examined her teeth, made her spread her legs and then examined her asshole and pussy. Dura and the others endured this treatment. Not one girl resisted. They all remembered too well the fates of the three whoТs torture had officially opened the games.

They remembered the slow cooking of Dagmar over the coals. They had been forced to watch as she was basted in bull cum. They had seen the horrified recognition in her eyes. Still alive, still awake, still twitching on the huge iron spit that impaled her from one end to the other.

They still remembered the feast that followedЕ

The Hunter

The warrior had brought in a huge Plains Beast. It was larger than anyone elseТs, and so, he was awarded the slave of his choice. He approached the holding pen and, after a short inspection of the frightened girls, he saw one who showed no fear. He saw one who would be difficult to break. He saw Dura.

She was pulled out of the pen by her hair. She tripped and fell and was dragged across the ground in front of the small crowd who had gathered to watch. The warrior already owned two other slaves from last yearТs competition and they had been well trained in the art of pleasing their sadistic master. One was tall with dark hair and large pendulous breasts, the other was shorter with sandy blond hair and smaller tits with pert erect nipples. Both girls wore iron rings pierced through their noses, nipples and labia.

Dura was pulled roughly to her feet beneath a rope that hung from a stout tree branch. She was made to raise her hands above her head. Her wrists were fastened together. Next her legs were roughly kicked apart and a branch was tied between her ankles to force her legs to remain spread. The Warrior approached and caressed DuraТs beautiful face like a lover. His fingers traced the outline of her lips. Dura obediently opened her mouth. Two fingers were inserted and Dura wrapped her lips around them and began to lick and suck. The wet fingers were gently pulled out of her mouth and traced their way from DuraТs strong chin down to her throat. The Warrior could see the blood coursing through the veins of her neck. Then, with a cruel smile, he grabbed the front uf DuraТs tunic and shredded it away leaving her full breasts and body exposed to the crowd.

All pretense of kindness was gone as he grabbed a handful of DuraТs left breast and twisted hard. DuraТs only reaction was to turn her head to one side. The warrior smiled. This one was strong. Any other girl would have screamed, but not this one. At least not yetЕ

With a few words in the Outsider tongue, the two slaves wrapped the thin rope tightly around DuraТs breasts. First they turned red then purple as the circulation was cut off. Her nipples stood out swollen and vulnerable in the cool evening air. Now, with her arms tied above her head, her tits tied to the rope, and her legs spread forcibly apart by the branch, she was hoisted three feet off the ground and left suspended there by her breasts.

Although the pain was excruciating, Dura still did not cry out or beg for mercy. She gritted her teeth, determined to hold out as long as she could.

The screams would come, she knew this, but not yetЕ please, not yet.

The two female slaves began to turn Dura around and around until the rope was twisted into knots.

Then they stood back and let her go. She began to spin. Slowly at first, but picking up speed. The slave girls picked up two short raw-hide whips that lay on the ground and began to strap the helpless spinning girl. They left no area unmarked. Across her breasts the blows landed. Across her thighs and ass. Her back, her shins, and calves were all marked by the kiss of the whips. She began to slow down now but the Warrior master ordered her spun again.

Dura was beginning to pick up words in the Outsider tongue. She heard hurt, whip, and cunt. She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes as she began to spin once again. Then came the thin little whips again. And as Dura had feared, their target was her open cunt. She jerked spasmodically as the blows found their target. Her first scream slipped out when a whip licked cruelly across her clit.

The crowd applauded and cheered.

More like that, said the Warrior laughing.

Soon Dura was screaming like a mad woman. Her spinning body shined from the perspiration falling from her tortured frame. The salt of her sweat poured into the tiny cuts left by the whips and made each mark sting anew. Her throat hurt from screaming. Her purple breasts had gone numb.

The whips finally stopped thrashing her raw pussy and Dura felt herself being lowered onto the ground. Her hands were now tied behind her back and the rope was removed from around her swollen tits. Dura grunted as the blood streamed back into her tortured melons. Dura was now pushed roughly onto all fours by the two slave girls. One girl was left holding Dura down while the other knelt before her Master and proceeded to suck his huge prick. When his member was fully lubricated with the slave girlТs saliva, he positioned himself behind Dura and wasted no time in shoving his shiny wet cock into her upturned ass.

Dura hadnТt thought that she could scream any more, but the pain of the Warrior tunneling his way mercilessly into her ass introduced her to a whole new dimension of pain. The screams were soon muffled though as the smallest of the two slave girls lay down in front of Dura and shoved her hairless cunt into DuraТs face. Dura licked the little one as well as she could.

The taller slave lay down on her back and slid under the Warrior positioning her face directly beneath the pummeling cock. With each outward thrust she would lick the shit encrusted cock to keep it lubricated. Meanwhile the Warrior had wrapped a fist up in DuraТs hair and was riding her like a horse. The other hand slapped her ass over and over as the ride gained momentum. The crowd began to chant and cheer as the Warrior neared orgasm.

Finally he began to come. The slave girl lying underneath saw this and immediately pulled her MasterТs cock out of DuraТs asshole and pushed it into her own mouth. Her cheeks began to swell as he unloaded into her eager mouth. When his cock had finished jerking spasmodically into the slaves mouth, He stood and backed away. But the show was not quite over.

The two slaves turned Dura over onto her back and forced her to open her mouth. The tallest slave slowly began to drool the brownish/white mixture of shit and cum into DuraТs mouth. Knowing better than to resist, she did not close her mouth but instead forced herself to swallow the vile warm goo as it drained into her mouth. The crowd cheered and DuraТs vision began to double. The cheers of the crowd turned into one solid roar and Dura felt as though her being was being stretched and torn to bits Ц while in a secret underground laboratory 80,000 years in the future a naked, spread-eagle girl jerks violently in her suspension. GinaТs eyes fly open. Cognition lights her face.

Now she knows what she is. Now she what she must doЕ

Chapter 5 - Queen Ascending

Gina slowly became aware of her surroundings. She saw the two guards still pummeling Maria as she hung sweating and grunting, crushed between their massive rutting bodies. She saw Arla with the two slave girls knelt fore and aft as they eagerly tunneled into ArlaТs cunt and ass with their tongues.

Gina felt the metallic snake still pummelingand her insides. She registered all this, yes, but from a distance. Part of her was still far off on an ancient plain with the Outsider slave masters and her own unfortunate friends. She remembered all things now.

She saw DuraТs dogged survival at the hands of her tormentors. She remembered being taught their language and their ways. Planting, harvesting, making bread, curing meat and skins. And most important to Dura, the making of the bows and arrows, the forging of the metals in the primitive smithy Ц the making of weapons of warЕ

Dura had been given a position of high trust among the slaves. The Outsiders came to know her as Lanured: Leader Among Slaves.

The chief of the village had taken her as his own Ganor which means lower than dog. Dura was, for a time, his sexual toy until he decided that she was loyal without question. He then ordered her training to begin. The slave teachers discovered her intelligence and her desire to learn and to please. With her body and her mind she ascended to the highest position an Outsider slave could attain.

As a Lanured, Dura helped to break in the new slaves. The Outsider Chieftian was especially impressed with her brutality and ingenuity for inventing new instruments of torture. He bestowed great praise upon her in front of his tribesmen. Dura was almost a full-fledged member of the tribe. The outsider women even trusted Dura to watch their young.

At some point in her sexual servitude to the Chieftain, Dura had become pregnant. She bore the child to full term. It was the custom in the Outsider villages that a half-breed born to a slave was to be immediately taken to another village and raised as a slave-child. The child was never to know its mother. But the Chieftain had come to love Dura and allowed her to keep the child and raise it as her own. It was a female.

Dura named the girl-child Aduras-tholiel. She told the childТs father that this word in her peopleТs tongue described a flower that grew in the lowland meadows in her homeland. But in the language of the Cliff-people, DuraТs people, Aduras-tholiel means Bringer-of-Storms.

Two

Then a dawn came to the village unlike any other before. The blowing of the morning horn was not heard. The people of the village did not rise and go about their work. No slave was beaten or raped.

Instead the great Outsider Chieftain lay dead in a pool of his own blood. His throat slit. His cock and balls had been sliced off and shoved into his mouth as he lay dying. Inside each hut and around the village men and women of the Outsider clan lay dead. Soon the scavenger animals of the hills would come down to feast on the bodies of the dead.

DuraТs education was complete, her captors had taught her all they knew. And now Dura had a child that would not be raised in slavery.

Far out across the plain, drawing ever nearer to the cliffs was a large group of people. For some, those who now carried spear and bow, the forced exile was ended. Fully 100 slaves had regained their freedom.

Outsiders now wore the ropes and the collars of slaves. If any tried to escape or to struggle, he or she was immediately put to the blade and left for dead.

DuraТs revolt had come off without a hitch. She had secretly passed word among those she most trusted as the perfect moment grew near.

The midsummer harvest festival was an occasion of great celebration. The crops had been exceptionally good this year so the grog flowed freely. The Chieftain, knowing that his people would soon be too drunk to tend to the slaves, placed Dura, his most trusted Lanured, in charge of providing the entertainment and later locking the slaves away for the night.

Dura had put on a show for the village that was most inspired. Dura had tortured her own people. This is how she had gained trust. She had made the girls scream in agony as the whips fell on slaves tied spread-eagled by wrist and ankle. She had elicited cheers from the villagers as she rammed a rape stick into the girlТs cunt who hung from a tree. The tortures were endless and varied, and through it all, the slaves who were not beating or being beaten were keeping the clay cups filled to spilling with the grog.

Without being asked, slaves were dropping to their knees before their masters and begging to be used. Naked bodies sweated in the firelight as the festival neared a fever pitch.

Dura watched, waiting for the moment to come when all would be silent except for the contented snores of the spent revelers.

The moon climbed up silently above the hills to bear silent witness to the carnage that followed. More than 250 Outsiders never awoke from their drunken slumber. The 50 or so who did awake found themselves bound hand and foot.

At first they struggled and bellowed threats at the slaves. Then they saw their fellow villagers lying dead in the predawn light. They watched as slaves loaded up all the weapons and food from the storage huts onto makeshift sleds.

As if this were not enough to illustrate the depth of their plight, Dura had them tied together and brought to the middle of the village where the three girls had been tortured to death before the games three years before. Two Outsiders hung by their wrists from the same branches that had supported the weight of so many slaves. They seemed to be either unconscious or dead.

Dura stepped up and shoved the tip of a spear into the flank of the female. She immediately began to struggle and wail. But she could not talk. Her tongue had been cut out. The male who hung next a few feet was also missing his tongue along with another portion of his anatomy. His cock and balls swayed in the breeze a few feet away.

They were already bloody and bruised but their torment had only just begun.

They are to serve as an example to all slaves, Dura began, so that all among you who are spared will remember this day, and remember your place now in life!

The Outsiders who stood there bound stared in horror, not believing their eyes or ears. This was the speech given to all new slaves when a raiding party returned successfully from across the plains.

Then the torture began.

The male was immediately impaled from ass to mouth with a huge iron rod. Well versed in torture, the former slaves knew just how to place it so that he would not die. The end of the rod was dropped into a hole in the ground and the manТs ropes were cut. He slid down around the pole entirely impaled. He struggled futilely even though he knew there was no hope of escape.

Now it was the womanТs turn. The leviathan bull still lived. It had been well cared for and was still strong.

It was led into the circle of slaves and masters as the woman was lowered from her suspension in the tree. The bull snorted loudly, smelling his mateТs sex. The female Outsider struggled mightily and at one point nearly escaped but Dura was prepared. She leapt over and clubbed the woman neatly over the head nearly rendering her unconscious. The bull was stimulated manually to a full erection as the woman was placed beneath itТs huge body. Two girls worked the huge bull cock into the womanТs cunt while four others tied her securely in place to the body of the bull itself. This was a new twist. Not even the sadistic Outsiders had thought of this. The woman had been tied to the Bull as though in a loverТs embrace. A rope crossed over the BullТs back and joined her wrists together and another rope was slung across again to join her ankles. The girl and the Bull were belly to belly. The only problem was that the bull had nothing to push against. The woman was not tied face down onto an A-frame so that the bull had only to shove itself in and out of itТs unfortunate victim. So it began to buck and slam as the impaled woman was brutally fucked by the wildly thrashing animal. Not totally satisfied with the results he was getting, the Bull lowered its hind-quarters so as to press the woman against the ground. This way the bull could get traction as the woman was slowly crushed with each forward thrust. Dura grabbed a spear and shoved it into the flank of the bull. It rose up and began to buck and kick as it galloped away with the helpless woman still firmly tied in place and impaled on the massive cock.

Dura turned to her people and spoke in her own tongue. They could afford no more fun for now she explained. They must make haste or risk being discovered by someone from another village. The Outsider slaves she promptly renamed Ganor Ц lower-than-dog in the Outsider tongue. The Outsiders understood this word but no others unless they were given direction in their own tongue. Only one Outsider had ever learned the tongue of the cliff dwellers, and she was now riding the belly of the bull with her tongue cut out.

Gina remembered these things with perfect clarity. She remembered the reunion with her people at the cliffs. She remembered the telling of the story of the years Dura had spent in slavery.

She remembered how the newly named Ganor suffered at the hands of the cliff people in vengeance for all the girls who would never come home.

Dura had taught her people how to make weapons how to plant and harvest. And as Dura grew older she knew that her people would survive. They were strong now.

Eventually her people took to the caves more and more. Deeper into the earth they delved until the surface world with the sun and sky were no longer missed. This race grew strong while the outside world knew them not. They learned to steal away the daughters of the surface dwellers to keep their breed strong and their gene pool fresh. But they never forgot the way the surface people had treated their ancestors.

Gina was a direct descendant of DuraТs and would now take her name. She would rule her people with a womanТs fist in an iron glove.

There was only one thing that must now be done. A surface woman had been contacted and offered money to spy on Gina and to learn her routine so that her capture would be more easily facilitated.

This surface womanТs name was Jill Garland. She had made friends with Gina for this express purpose.

Jill had taken extensive notes on GinaТs schedule, had conducted exhaustive research on GinaТs past as an orphan child adopted by the state. Jill had even video-taped Gina as she walked across campus, as she studied, as she showered, even as she lay in bed and masturbated!!

That is why she was so easily kidnapped and brought here. She was, of course, glad that she was here. Among her own people, at home where her existence mattered, where she was welcomed with open arms and her future was sure.

Even if the method of delivery had been painful and frightening it was still the best thing that could have happened to her.

But now it was up to Gina to tie up the loose ends on the surface. Jill must be brought here where she would become part of the breeding stock. Where she could be trained to service the masters Ц both men and women Ц who would decide her fate. Jill would become GinaТs first acquisition. It was the Right of Ascension. And Gina was ready.

The steel snake had done itТs job of removing all impurities from GinaТs body and was now receding back into its box. Gina felt herself being lowered and released from her spread-eagle bondage. Arla gazed into GinaТs eyes as a lover. The slave who had been kneeling between GinaТs legs began to stand.

Immediately Gina slapped her hard across the face, did I tell you to stop licking me, cunt?

Sara, partially stunned, dropped back to her knees before Gina and begged to be forgiven.

Gina grasped the slave by the back of her head and jerked her back into the slimy, warm folds of flesh.

Just lick me until I come you little fuck! Arla, hand me a whip! she said, this one needs a little inspiration!

The whip fell on SaraТs back and ass again and again while Gina began to slide into ecstasy on the tongue of the slave.

IТll show you and your kind how surface dwellers are to be dealt with, Gina yelled as she began to come.

She jerked spasmodically as her orgasm crashed down on her. Hot girl cum began to soak SaraТs face and drip off her chin as her Mistress let go. The whip fell harder now as Gina rode the heights of dominant bliss.

When she was spent, she roughly pushed the slave-girl to the floor.

Lie on your stomach, slave, Gina instructed.

SaraТs back was criss-crossed where the whip had left itТs mark. Gina squatted over the poor girl and began to urinate. Her piss splattered across the bloody whip tracks causing Sara to squirm in pain. Sara did not cry out but endured the pain and humiliation in silence. She was being used as a human toilet by this new and powerful Mistress.

Arla watched approvingly. Gina had reacted most favorably to The Learning.

Gina turned Sara over and lifted her up by the hair until the two women were face to face. You have done well and have honored yourself by your efforts. You belong to me now, bathe quickly and join me in the Receiving Cave.

Then turning to Arla she said, When I am done upstairs, I will want two guards to accompany me back to the surface. I think Jill Garland is about to get the shock of her fucking life.

Arla bowed, Yes my Mistress, it shall be done.

Gina, naked and still buzzing from her orgasm, exited the lab and walked back down the corridor to the cave where she had first witnessed the newly captured girls being broken in.

As she stood watching the revelry, two new girls were dragged into the frey. One was blond. About 5Т5 around 110 pounds. She was begging; pleading for mercy. The other was also blonde but taller, nearly 6 feet, and a fighter. She lashed out and caught a male across the cheek with her nails leaving four crimson trails across his face. The male bellowed and bore her to the ground. The girl screamed in pain as the guard landed on her with all his weight.

Gina smiled as the two girls clothes were shredded away from their nearly perfect bodies. Gina laughed as they were tied to the ropes hanging from the ceiling and hoisted ogg the ground.

Sara joined Gina now and bowing before her Queen, gently kissed GinaТs feet.

Get up and watch closely Sara, Gina instructed. Do you see the big blond they just hung by her wrists?

Yes Mistress, Sara replied rising from the floor I see her.

You and I will break this one together. Would you like that?

Oh yes, Mistress, I am honored by your trust in me.

Gina licked her lips and grabbed Sara by the wrist. SheТs ready for us now Sara, letТs goЕ

Three

Jill Garland was just letting herself back into her house when she heard the phone ring. She had been out shopping. It seems that Jill had just come into a large sum of cash.

What a stupid cunt that Gina, she thought to herself, she sure fell for that Сbe my friendТ bullshit easy enough. Shit, with all the money that Arla chick paid me I can quit college and retire.

The phone insistently rang again. Who in fuck Тs calling me at this late hour? Jill dropped her bags on the kitchen counter and reached for the receiver, but before she could pick it up it stopped in mid-ring.

She stared at the phone for a moment perplexed, waiting for it to ring again. Nothing. Total silence. No; wait there was something. The low sound of a TV somewhere in the house.

I could swear I turned off the set before I left for the mall, she said aloud.

Jill walked softly into the bedroom and, sure enough the television was on.

Oh my God! Jill exclaimed.

One of the tapes she had made of Gina for that weird Arla chick was playing. Jill had made a few copies for herself, especially the shower scenes and the times the hidden cameras had filmed Gina masturbating. This was the one playing now. There were four masturbation sequences in a row in this tape. All of them featured Gina naked on her bed, lying on her back with her hands busy in all the right places. Jill loved these tapes since she preferred women. Jill watched as the video showed Gina lying on her bed with one hand pinching her nipples and the other squeezing her clit between her thumb and index finger.

What the fuck? Jill said to herself, I know I didnТt leave this tape in the VCR. Jill reached out to turn the tape off when suddenly the phone rang again.

She grabbed the extension off the bedside table Hello?

Hi Jill, said a familiar voice, do you want to get together and study for finals tonight?

Jill was thrown completely now. This was Gina talking to her on the phone. The same Gina on the tape, moaning as she masturbated, the same Gina that Jill had seen dragged into a manhole while she had watched safely from behind a thick clump of bushes. The same Gina that Jill had effectively sold to that Arla woman.

Wh-where are you honey? Jill began, trying to sound calm, weТve been worried about you here on campus.

Hey Jill, I can call back later if its not convenient, said the voice on the phone, it sounds like youТve got a party going on over there.

Jill fumbled for the remote control and pushed the mute button.

Why, umЕuhЕn-no party, she stammered, just something on the tube. Where are you Gina?

IТm not far, Gina said, I can be there in no time. Hey Jill, whatТs on TV now?

Jill glanced up just as the tape showed Gina arching her hips soundlessly screaming as she came, but then suddenly, a new image filled the screen.

Horrified, Jill saw herself on the phone. This was live and being filmed right now!

Jill glanced over where the closet door stood slightly ajar and saw the little red light and the lens of the camera.

The door opened up and Gina stepped out holding a camera and a cell phone, Yes, you bitch, I can be over right away. Take her down boys.

Two large Underworld guards flew into the room from the hall. Jill saw them but had no time to react. They smothered her, stifling her startled cry.

In less than 10 seconds the girl was bound struggling on the bed; ankles and wrists tied. One of the guardТs hands muffled any attempt to speak or cry out.

Gina handed the camera to Sara her slave-girl, who stepped out of the closet behind her.

Keep taping Sara, said Gina softly, I donТt want to miss any of this.

Sara, nude except for a leather thong and her usual collar, zoomed in on the girl on the bed.

Spread-eagle, please gentlemen, she said to the guards, I want her wide and accessible.

Gina walked over to the bed where the guards were busy tying JillТs wrists and ankles to the bed posts of her king-size bed.

Gina and Jill glared at each other. Gina face was the very embodiment of calm and control, while JillТs expression alternated between fear, rage, and desperation.

Jill was still fully clothed in her black high heels, jeans, and white blouse.

Here Lotho, said Gina extending her hand to one of the Underworld guards, weТre still upland and canТt afford to let her cry out. Put this in her mouth

Lotho took the ball-gag and pinched JillТs nose shut. Now she had to open her mouth to breathe. ThatТs when the gag slammed home.

Struggling makes it so much worse, love, said Gina softly, so please struggle all you want. You thought you were going to sell me into slavery didnТt you Jill? YouТd done it before. You did it to Gina and Michelle. I saw them tortured as they were introduced to their new homes and masters.

Gina sat down on the bed next to Jill and began to rip the buttons off her shirt one by one.

You thought youТd walk with all that cash. I mean, what the hell right? With Darla, Michelle, and myself out of the way youТd be the hottest looking bitch on campusЕand the richest.

Well baby, Gina said to the spread-eagled girl, things donТt always go like you plan. Look at me for example. A week ago I was going for my major in Communications, this week I rule a kingdom. Last week you were rich as hell, this week youТre dog shit on my heel!

Gina tore off the last button leaving the blouse lying open and exposing JillТs lavender lace bra.

Nice cleavage Jill, remarked Gina. WeТll see more of that in a minute, but first letТs get these pants off.

Gina took off the back-pack sheТd been wearing and began to rummage around inside.

Hmmm, let me see. I just know I put it in here somewhereЕOh, yes. Here it is!

Gina whipped out a rather large knife with serrated edges. JillТs eyes grew round as saucers. She immediately began to struggle and whimper around the large ball-gag.

Oh, donТt take on so, Jill, Gina said with the voice of a mother trying to sooth a frightened child, this is for your jeans, not your tender flesh. Believe me; where youТre headed thereТll be no need for blue jeans.

Gina unbuckled the belt and unzipped the fly to JillТs pants. Then she began to lower the knife to JillТs crotch.

Now here is where youТll want to keep still babe. IТm getting a little excited by all this and you donТt want to make me slip. Gina smiled into JillТs tear-filled eyes, there is no telling where this blade could wind up.

Soon JillТs pants lie in tatters around her on the bed. She wore nothing now but her black hi-heels and her lavender lace panties and bra.

Nice ensemble, Gina remarked, but they donТt leave much to the imagination, now do they? What do you think boys?

The two guards grunted.

They like you Jill, you can tell by the bulge in their pants.

Jill looked over and her eyes widened.

Yes dearest, I made sure to get the two guys with the biggest dicks around. said Gina, because we are gonna have a party tonight. YouТd better enjoy it because this will be the last night you spend on the surface.

Next Gina placed the blade of the knife against the inside-center strap of her captiveТs bra and, after glancing at Jill with a smile, jerked back on the blade cleanly splitting the bra in half. Jill winced as her tits bounced free.

Look how hard your nipples are, Jill, Gina observed, if I didnТt know better, IТd say you were enjoying all this.

Gina leaned down, gently massaging JillТs small but firm tits with both hands. She began to lick the pert nipples. Jill tried to twist away at first but then lay still with closed eyes. Next she actually pushed her chest up pressing her firm tits up toward GinaТs lips and tongue.

I always thought you were a bit of a dyke, Jill, said Gina,but I canТt let you enjoy this too much.

Gina bit down hard on JillТs left nipple.

Mmmmph!! Jill thrashed around and tried to scream through her large gag. Oops, got a little bloody there, Jill. I guess I got a little carried away.

Gina smeared the blood from JillТs injured nipple onto her index finger and licked it clean.

YouТre finger-lickinТ-good so far, babe, Gina smiled, but now letТs see how you are down where the rubber-meets-the road, so to speak.

Gina reached down and lifted the strap of JillТs lavender panties away from the creamy flesh of JillТs thigh. Next the knife flashed and sliced the fabric in half exposing JillТs cunt to the cool night air.

Clean shaven!? Gina feigned shock and surprise. Oh, you nasty little girl. What have you been up to?

Gina pulled the panties out from underneath JillТs firm butt and handed them to the guards who immediately began to smell them. Sara stood nearby still filming every move.

Now Gina sensuously began to trace her fingers down JillТs muscled belly and around the mound of cunt meat. Jill jerked once or twice and began to breathe harder. Gina moved her finger onto the crack where the cunt lips met and parted them slightly. Then Gina licked the middle finger of her other hand making it wet with saliva.

She slowly pushed this finger between JillТs pussy lips and moved her thumb up to the hooded clitoris that had already begun to swell.

GinaТs finger was all the way inside JillТs twat and her thumb had begun to rub JillТs clit from side to side.

HHMMMMFFF! was all Jill could manage to say as her eyes closed to tiny slits and GinaТs hands went to work.

The television set was still on and GinaТs moans as she masturbated on tape only served to make Jill hotter. She began to breath harder now as she neared orgasm. Just a little longer now. Jill could feel her juices oozing down the crack of her ass. Soon, so very soon nowЕ

mmmhhhmmmuuuhhh

Suddenly the hands and fingers were withdrawn.

SheТs nice and juicy now boys, have fun. Gina said licking her fingers.

Jill watched in horror as the huge silent males stripped. Sheer panic is the only way to describe her reaction when she saw the immense length and girth of their dripping cocks.

Lotho, you climb on. Gina instructed, Zeirg, let Sara stroke you off onto JillТs pretty face. Give me the camera Sara and get to work.

Sara obediently handed the camera to Gina who kept right on filming as Lotho lay down over the top of the naked girl. He positioned his prick at the entrance to JillТs pussy and parted itТs lips. Then, with a mighty heave, threw all of his weight against the womanТs prone form.

Jill was in too much pain to make a sound as the monster meat thrust inside her cunt to the hilt. Jill arched her back up off the bed as every muscle in her firm body fought against the ropes and against the huge invader. She felt LothoТs thick hot balls slap against her ass at the end of each thrust.

Looking up she saw ZeirgТs cock looming over her head as Sara licked and stroked the beastТs member. A drop of pre-come dribbled out of the tip of ZeirgТs dick and onto the gag.

Gina placed the camera on the chest of drawers making sure that it was angled to catch all the action.

HmmmЕ Gina said walking over, looks like that gag is getting in the way and we canТt have that, Jill. This is as much taste as it is touch, dear Jill.

No way, thought Jill, if they try to stick that thing down my throat, IТll bite it off!

I know what youТre thinking, Jill. Gina told her, thatТs why we gave you a special gag.

Gina grabbed a small metal ring on the surface of the ball gag and pulled. Out came the center of the gag leaving a large hole in itТs place.

There, see? No muss, no fuss, and absolutely no teeth to worry about, bitch. Make him come in her mouth Sara while I tend to the next stage in the evenings festivities.

While Lotho slammed into JillТs cunt and Sara worked on bringing off Zeirg, Gina picked up her back-pack and pulled out two large golden hoops.

Now donТt worry Jill, Gina said, the answer to your next question is СyesТ, this is definitely going to hurt like hell!

Gina knelt on the side of the bed and grabbed JillТs left breast roughly, pulling it sharply toward her. Jill grunted heavily either from the battering ram in her cunt or the pain in her tit.

Gina opened the first hoop and held it up for Jill to see. It was about three inches in diameter with a hinge on one side. The other side of the hoop was open. A needle sharp point that gradually widened was made to fit into the other portion of the open end then would snap solidly shut. Gina demonstrated this once for Jill and then, smiling at the poor girlТs desperate expression of fear, went to work.

Gina pulled the nipple up high between her thumb and index finger, stretching it painfully while Jill watched.

Lotho was fucking Jill so hard that Gina had a difficult time holding JillТs tit still.

Oh well, Gina smiled, if I miss my mark, cunt, IТll just have to try again Сtil I get it right.

Jill screamed as Gina pushed the sharp point of the open hoop into the fleshy part of the breast just beside the nipple.

Perfect, Gina said as the hoop broke the skin and came out on the other side of the nipple, looks like I wonТt have to do this one twice after all!

Blood trickled down both sides of JillТs pierced tit as Gina snapped the ring shut.

One to go, whore, Gina cheerfully informed her, how are you doing there Lotho? Are you about ready Zeirg?

Both males nodded.

Just let me get this pigТs other tit pierced first, then you can come.

Gina repeated the process with the girlТs other breast. She made sure to pierce behind the nipple and not through it. The Nipple alone could not stand the stress of what Gina was planning.

Now she reached up and grabbed Jill hard by both ears to keep her head still.

CanТt have you moving around too much, Jill, said Gina, youТre going to need ZeirgТs load. ItТs the only nourishment you are going to get between here and your new home.

Zierg - Lotho, Gina announced, you may come .

Almost immediately Jill saw thick rpoes of come shoot out the end of the cock that danced directly over mer mouth. Some of the seed went wide of the mark and streaked across JillТs face and into her eyes. For the most part though the massive load of semen went directly into JillТs open mouth.

She began to sputter and choke, tears streaming down her face.

Swallow it all, slut, Gina told her, this is one of the best protein shakes youТll find.

Now Lotho began to come. Jill could feel her insides filling with his seed as he grabbed JillТs new tit rings and pulled.

Jill managed to do as she was told; she swallowed most of ZeirgТs come.

As Lotho pulled out and dismounted, Sara let go of ZeirgТs cock and moved down between JillТs legs. She began to suck as much of LothoТs load as she could from inside and around JillТs battered pussy. Then, with her cheeks puffed out with the volume of her bounty, she positioned her mouth over JillТs and allowed the cum to drain out and ooze down JillТs throat.

Very Good Sara, Gina commented, you show initiative! I am pleased!

Now itТs time to finish and get back, Gina said, Sara, here are your three rings. You know where they go.

Yes my Queen, Sara replied.

Gina turned back to Jill and grabbed her by the nose. Before the stunned girl could respond, Gina had slid another ring through the slice of skin between her nostrils.

Now Sara! Gina shouted.

Sara had opened all three rings and waited for her Masters command. When it was given, Sara had immediately spread JillТs labia deftly pushing one through the skin surrounding JillТs clit. Her reaction was just as Gina had anticipated. Jill stuck her tongue out and screamed. Gina already had the pliers in one hand and the open ring in the other. While Sara was now busy piercing the girlТs labia, one ring to a side, Gina was piercing JillТs tongue.

Almost mad from pain and humiliation, Jill screamed nearly nonstop.

Gina grabbed one more ring and deftly pierced JillТs stomach just above her belly-button She forced the ring inside and down. It came out just below her navel.

Eight heavy golden rings now adorned the beautiful girlТs body.

Stand her up gentlemen, Gina said to the males, itТs time to go.

Soon, Jill found herself standing with her wrists and elbows tied and joined tightly behind her back. The reason for the rings now became evident.

Sara began connecting chains to each of the rings. Each chain was about four feet long. Then Sara gathered the chains and joined them all onto one large golden hoop. Finally the leash was snapped around the large hoop and Sara knelt before her Queen offering her the handle.

Gina tugged roughly on the leash to set the tortured girl in motion, Jill grunted but followed obediently.

There now Jill, donТt put on so! You should be proud! When we get home you will be given to the brood slaves where you will be fucked and tortured by any of our people who should be so inclined. The children you birth will add strength to our nation. We are legion and our time is nearly come. Soon word will be sent to our brothers and sisters around the world and we shall issue forth from the ground like a plague upon your race. And then, every knee shall bend to the Queen of Underland.

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

Comments Off

TWINS

TWINS

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

TWINS

05/29/2002

Our friends of www.dofantasy.com allowed us to post these two lovely comic pages of this wonderful comic. Thanks!

THE STORY:

Monica and Susan, twins, are eighteen today. They are already beautiful, sensual and desirable young women. They have invited all their friends. Other guests arrive too, less welcome, friends and sinister associates of their parents, General Mendez and his wife Rosario. Unknown to the twins, the Mendez are not their real parents.

The party goes reasonably well, but the atmosphere is strained. Both the twins and their parents have secret plans for the following day…

The girls are planning to run away from home. They want to go to Europe where they will be free of the rigid family discipline and the sexual harassment they suffer from their adoptive parents. They want to be free too from the constant and lewd intentions of their stepbrother Bernardo.

The General’s plans are very different. He and his wife have been preparing for this day for years. They have a basement room waiting for the girls. In it there are cages: cramped, uncomfortable, humiliating cages which themselves constitute an instrument of humiliating sexual abuse. In the cages and on the walls around hang heavy iron chains, collars, handcuffs and other instruments of depraved sexual torture.

A large bed is waiting for them, with a variety of ankle and wrist fetters ready to hold the girls’ bodies in the most offered and degrading postures

The room is equipped with mouth gags and flogging instruments, whips and flails, paddles, bamboo canes with cruel cutting ribs, punishment vibrators with powerful batteries, and the leather body harnesses which Mrs Mendoza is especially fond of – harnesses to lift soft young breasts or highlight the most intimate parts of female bodies.

There are clothes, too, mostly chosen by the General – especially high-heeled shoes to emphasize the calves and give a jerking, vertical movement to firm young buttocks.

There is also a cattle prod to deliver excruciating electric shocks. Mrs Mendoza became expert in its use at the time of the Dictatorship.

It is here, in this terrible room several meters below the streets of the capital city, that the twins wake up. A hood prevents them from seeing, but they can feel the rope around their necks and the leather armbinder that holds their elbows together behind their backs, painfully. They know too that they have been stripped naked except for uncomfortable high-heeled shoes. And that someone is watching them. They can hear him breathing, an unhealthy, sick sound heavy with desire and unspent semen.

The twins do not know it, but the General and his wife have already made their choice.

He will have Monica, the fresher, more rebellious one. She was always difficult, especially as an adolescent, and always questioned his authority. He put up with her insults for years. He put up too with what he conceived as her constant sexual provocations. But that is over now. It is time to give and receive punishment. Time for his dark sexual fantasies, repressed since the fall of the Dictator, to become real. Punishment time. Punishment time for large, firm and defenseless young breasts, well-rounded provocative bottoms and cruelly exhibited private parts…

Mrs Mendoza will have Susan, shyer than her sister but no less difficult. Susan and her mother hate each other. The mother’s sadistic lesbianism was always hanging in the air, threatening… Mrs Mendez too has had plenty of time to think what to do with Susan. She knows exactly how she will train her into a lesbian sex slave regardless of the girl’s natural repulsion. She knows how to humiliate her, how to break her in, how to make her grovel on her knees to her hated stepmother…

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

Comments Off

THE SULTAN’S NEW WIVES

THE SULTAN'S NEW WIVES

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

THE SULTAN'S NEW WIVES

All characters are 18 years old or older
Story by SATO

posted 01/01/2003

The Sultan had always had money, but greed had sharpened his appetite for more wealth; more power; and especially power over women. His friends had begun to acquire western women for their harems. They were beautiful and exotic in the eyes of the old sultan. Smooth, pale skin, long shapely bodies, and how they screamed under torture. Not at all like the strong women of his own people. He must have some of these soft weak western girls. The younger the better. They would be trained to serve his every pleasure. His men were sent to the West with orders to bring back only the most beautiful women to spend the rest of their lives in the harem of the Sultan.

The three college girls had been too easy to capture. Amir pulled up next to them in his shiny black limousine and pretended to be lost. He rolled down his window and beckoned to the girls as he pointed to a map. They had walked right over to the car never expecting a thing. The back doors opened suddenly as three other men jumped out and grabbed the girls, throwing them roughly into the back of the limo. They screamed and fought of course, but the men were very strong and there was no one too hear their pitiful cries for help along this deserted stretch of highway.

More raiding parties and kidnappings took place across the western continents. Finally 30 beautiful girls, hidden in a secret hold on one of the Sultan's oil freighters, were on the open sea. Eventually the ship docked in a private port in the Indian Ocean where the women were unloaded and delivered to the Sultan's palace. This was where the real journey would begin...

Each girl was presented to the Sultan wearing the clothes they'd been captured in. "Strip them all and use the whip if they hesitate," laughed the Sultan as he drooled over his new slaves. The girls tried to beg but the sting of the whip reminded them of the task at hand. "Before you can pleasure me with your pale western bodies, you must learn your place. Whip them hard until all clothing has been torn away!" With tear filled eyes the gagged girls removed their clothing while the whip tore their tender flesh. They whimpered and screamed each time the whip fell. Finally they stood fully revealed to their master. "Take these pitiful weak bitches to be pierced and branded. They won't forget who they belong to when they marked by their master's brand!"

Achmed, the harem overseer, was very busy today. "Thirty fresh western whores to compliment the Sultan's harem! What an honor for me to prepare you for his service. You are very lucky sluts indeed for the Sultan has graciously allowed me to choose four of you for my own pleasure. I am allowed none of the virgins, but I can chose from any of the others. I can keep you for four days then you will join the rest of his harem". One by one Achmed examined the cringing humiliated girls. Each cunt was thoroughly fingered until he found the girls who had lost their virginity. Each of these he marked with the whip mark across their tits and then he moved them to the front of the line. "Ah yes my beauties!" he exclaimed, "when I am done with you, it will be an honor for you to eat the Sultan's shit rather than serve him as sex slaves. The screams of the girls echoed through the dungeon as the whip landed over and over again. Achmed invited the guards to enjoy the girls bodies. In all, twenty men raped and tortured the four until each were sticky with cum and nearly senseless from pain.

While the dungeon guards were busy with the four girls, Achmed went about peircing the cunts, nipples, and tongues of all the other girls. "AAAIIIIEEEEEEE! NOOOOOO!!!" a pretty blonde screamed as the golden ring was pushed into her labia and out the other side. "Sorry slaves," Achmed remarked with an evil leer, "but you must learn the pain that comes with the honor of being a virgin in the service of the Sultan. He will send for you soon then you will learn all about his depraved sexual appetites. He loves his women tight and young. It hurts the tight ones so much more when his fist is buried in their virgin cunts. But enough of that for now," he said as he used pliers to pull a screaming young woman's tongue out for piercing. Finally all the girls were pierced as the Sultan had commanded and Achmed returned to his four chosen slaves. Brutally he shoved a spiked dildo deeply into the ass of one struggling girl as he settled down to pierce another. His cock grew hard yet again as the screams of the piercing echoed against the hard dungeon walls.

Daria and Kim were chosen by the Sultan to entertain his guests. "You will run with my stallion," he told them, "if you win you will be bathed, fed, and allowed to rest. But if you lose we will watch as the stallion gets to ride one of you. Each girl was attached to the stallion's bridle by one chain that ran through a single tender swollen nipple. The horse was whipped hard on one muscled flank and jerked ahead leaving the two helpless girls struggling to keep up. Blood began to pour as their nipples stretched. The horse was reigned in before their tits were torn apart. "Stupid western girls, you lose! Take the blond to the rack first. Make sure to stretch her wide and have the other watch while the beast pleasures her friend." The Sultan laughed as Kim sobbed around the gag. She was tied face down onto a device that was raised in the middle. Her legs were open with her ass raised up. Naomi, a dark-skinned slave girl, was rubbing grease into her lewdly exposed back passage. Next the stallion was led behind the panicked teenager where Naomi began to stroke the horse's cock. The arabian stallion snorted and shook. Soon he had reached full erection and was pulled up onto the rack with Kim. She screamed as Naomi guided the huge phallus against her tiny anal passage. The stallion reared and lunged forward impaling the unfortunate girl on his immense member. Kim's gag had been removed so she could scream more effectively as the horse lunged in and out of her torn and bleeding hole. "You are very adept at entertaining your guests." one man remarked to the Sultan. "These western sluts deserve it, they're natural born sinners..." He replied smiling.

Finally, after a month of arduous training, the day for the wedding of the slaves to their master the Sultan had come. Three at a time the girls were led before the Sultan. All of the white western girls had pierced nipples and cunts. Their fate was decided; they would spend the rest of their lives at the mercy of this man and others he would lend them to. Marissa, a tall beautiful auburn-haired girl was just this morning back from a hellish night of rape and torture. The Sultan had lent her to a neighboring Sheik who, in turn, gave Marissa to his three favorite wives. He watched and video-taped the entire evening while the three dark-haired women brutalized the screaming girl. When the Sultan's driver arrived to bring Marissa back for the wedding, the eldest wife of the Sheik grabbed Marissa's tits and whispered, "we will send you back with special decorations for your wedding you white whore!" The other two girls rammed two short needle-sharp arrows through each of Marissa's tits just behind the nipple. "MMMMMMMPPPHHHHH!!" Marissa screamed from behind the gag. Her eyes filled with tears again as she watched her beautiful breasts impaled along the length of the silver shafts. "Give our regards to your Husband the Sultan, but remember us when he fucks your tits."

After the initial assault when Kelly and Vanessa were tied and raped by the Sultan's guests, the three men decided to get inventive. They made the girls play pool. "This game is a satanic western invention," remarked Abdul to his friends. "I don't think it's ever been played quite like this before." Each girl was instructed to take turns aiming at the other girl's pussy. The men would jerk ropes tied to the shooter's tits to distract her into missing. It was Vanessa's turn on the table and Kelly's turn to shoot. Even though the pain in her nipples was intense, Kelly still managed to slam the ball directly against Vanessa's exposed mound. Kelly's reward was to watch as the men greased the ball and pushed it into Vanessa's pussy. "GHHAAAAAMMMPH," was all the gagged girl could say as the ball joined the five others already buried inside her crowded womb. "Remember ladies, whoever loses the match gets a stomach full of camel cum for lunch, ha, ha, ha!!"

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

Comments Off

THE GALLEY OAR

THE GALLEY OAR

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

The Galley Oar.
Oliver David. All rights reserved.

PART ONE

The ride had been hard and they had almost reached safety. Prague was but a league away when the archers cut down her eight man escort. Those damned Turkish archers with their short bows and ferocious accuracy.

It was they who were responsible for this undignified flight. It was they who had determined the outcome of the battle against her husband's forces. Their swift horses and their marksmanship had proved too much for the heavily armed mounted knights and their accompanying foot soldiers with their pikes.

Seeing their lords toppled so swiftly and in such numbers had sent a wave of terror through the foot who turned and ran in panic. It took but little time then for the Turks to turn rout into massacre. Her husband; the Lord Baltek, dear God she didn't even know if he was alive or not. She prayed he was not a captive of the Turks. Their cruelty to their prisoners was legendary throughout the region. It had all been so different that morning.

The army of four thousand men at arms and eight hundred knights had ridden and marched from the city in a mood of confidence and carnival. With the warrior lord Baltek, her Baltek, at their head, how could they feel differently? His battle skills and leadership were without peer. Defeat at the hands of a few miserable Turks was an impossibility! That was why she and her attendant ladies had accompanied the army, had taken a vantage point on a hill overlooking the field, in confident anticipation of the spectacle of the defeat of their enemies.

The wagon in which the women had travelled was curtained with rich tapestry in her husband's colours. Clearly visible from the battle field, they had not realised their danger until suddenly, a group of some thirty mounted Turks broke away from the main melee and began to gallop towards them. Her escort reacted swiftly, the wagon driver whipping his two horses mercilessly to get the heavy vehicle over it's inertia and into motion. They drove hard, accompanied by the mounted escort and it was twenty minutes before their pursuers closed into bow-shot range.

Two volleys of arrows had ended the chase. The wagon halted. It's driver dead. The horses exhausted. She stood now, with her ladies who were weeping in terror, in front of the wagon surrounded by grinning Turkish soldiers. Although she felt mounting dread she was determined not to show fear. Her position demanded no other demeanour.

She was Tatiana, the wife of the Lord Baltek, protector of the city of Prague. She was nineteen years old and in her prime of womanhood. Her long black hair had been braided and rolled, framing a face both arrogant and beautiful. Her eyes were dark and enticing, her nose aquiline above a sensual mouth that hinted of both passion and cruelty. She had led a pampered existence from the day of her birth in 1148. Her fathers estates were tended by thousands of indentured serfs who's toils produced the crops that provided her family's wealth. She wanted for nothing, her clothing was of the finest brocades from Flanders and Verona. The wide skirted gown she was wearing now cost enough to feed ten peasant families for ten years! She had known nothing but luxury and prestige all her life and her marriage to the famed Baltek had only served to heighten her sense of position and self-esteem. Her pride gave her courage and she glared defiantly at her captors.

Surely they would not harm someone of her obvious wealth and breeding. They would ransom her, of course! She felt a wave of relief roll over her and she raised her chin slightly higher.

A barked command brought the soldiers to silence and they parted to allow passage to a tall man who's rich clothing identified him as a noble.A further command saw Tatiana and her women bundled into the wagon. Fresh horses were hitched and the wagon moved off accompanied and surrounded by the remounted and jubilant Turks.

They reached the castle as night fell and halted in the courtyard. Looking through the gap in the wagon's curtains Tatiana saw the Turkish noble dismount and speak to a sentry at the great door.

The noble waited by the door until another man, clearly of equal or superior rank emerged and entered into conversation with the first who pointed at the wagon. The two men approached the wagon and Tatiana drew back away from the curtain which was suddenly torn aside. The second noble stared at the group of women and then centred his concentration on Tatiana, staring into her eyes as his face broke into a smile of such pure evil, that she felt as if her very soul had frozen. More orders were barked. The women were hauled roughly from the wagon each accompanied by two soldiers restraining them by the arms.

They were taken to a descending flight of stone steps to the right of the main entrance which led to the main hall of the castle. The steps ended at an iron studded wooden door. They entered a plain stone room about 20 feet long and 16 feet wide with a rising flight of stairs leading to a trap door at it's farthest end. The door slammed behind them and the five women were alone in complete darkness. Tatiana felt her way in the darkness to the steps leading to the trapdoor and mounted them.

She tested the door with her hand. It was solid and immovable. If she had known what awaited beyond it she would have been less eager to try to open it. This close to the trapdoor she could hear the distinct sound of merrymaking. It sounded very much as if a banquet was in progress. She could hear the ringing laughter of excited women.

Time passed. Maybe an hour. In the darkness one of the ladies in waiting sobbed quietly. Tatiana sensed, rather than heard, a change of atmosphere and rushed to the trap door. The sounds of merriment had been replaced by a buzz of anticipation.

A sudden loud rattling of whatever mechanism secured the trap door startled her and she fell back as the door crashed open. A lighted torch was thrust into the room, blinding them for a moment after the darkness. An order was shouted, repeated. They were to come out. Were they to be freed? Yes that must be it. A ransom has been demanded and paid! They mounted the steps, Tatiana leading and found themselves being pushed through a doorway Leading to a short vaulted stone corridor.

She could see figures waiting at the end of the corridor with light behind them and she could hear the murmuring of what sounded like many people. As she reached the end of the corridor she was grasped firmly by the arms and brought forwards into what was she realised, the great hall of the castle but she had never seen a castle decked out in the style of a moorish palace. She was amazed at the opulence of the silk wall hangings, the cushions, the divans And the people! The exotic Turkish clothing of the men! The scandalously brief and flimsy apparel of the women!

She turned her attention to the two men who held her, one on either side, by her wrists. They were dressed identically in short black leather kilts secured with a wide belt. they wore no other clothing. They were lean and extremely muscular. And she noticed, they were not Turks! They both had fair hair! A voice broke into her disorientation.

"You are the woman of Baltek?"

She had never heard a voice like it. A great rush of raw fear focussed her attention. The voice was soft, sibilant and knowing. It's sound had a quality that sent something trembling in her belly and heightened all of her senses to a level beyond her experience. She was standing in front of raised dais topped with an ornate throne. The speaker was seated in the throne.

"You are the woman of Baltek".

Not a question this time. An affirmation, tinged with a note of satisfaction. He was dressed in an ornate light blue silk robe secured at the waist by a crimson sash. On his head he wore a turban that matched the robe. A massive diamond surrounded by pearls adorned the turban. His feet were encased in soft crimson and tan leather slippers with pointed toes that curled up and over, ending in gold tassles. His finery was lost on Tatiana. She could not tear her eyes away from his face. His skin was dark, almost black but not as black as the two ringlets of his hair that had been carefully arranged on his forehead below the jewel in his turban and the waxed pointed beard on his chin nor as black as the glittering pupils of his almond shaped eyes which held her transfixed.

To her horror she could see that this man was capable of any level of cruelty and evil. He broke eye contact with her, to casually select a candied date from a tray of sweetmeats by his throne. She slumped suddenly in shock as she realised that when he had held her gaze she had strained up on tip-toe, every muscle in her body rigid. She looked round frantically twisting in the grasp of the men who held her. She saw her attendants at the back of the hall, their wrists roped together, like a string of slaves. Looking down she saw that the floor beneath her feat had been laid out like a giant chess board with black and white slabs of polished marble. At the four corners of each square, strong iron hooks each about four inches long had been let into the floor. She could not see a purpose for the hooks. He spoke again

"Baltek has caused me insult and inconvenience. He has fled like a coward. When he is caught. I will have him brought before me, stripped and flayed alive. My torturers are very, very skilled. They can make the process last a day and a night. He will die a million deaths and still beg for death."

Tatiana was again transfixed by his terrible eyes. The word 'Satan' pounded through her mind.

"However" he continued "Baltek is not available. So how shall I provide amusement and diversion for my guests this night?"

The horror of her situation was dawning on Tatiana; she tried to struggle but to no avail. He spoke again. "Prepare her!" A sound above her made her look up. On a gantry just below the vaulted ceiling of the hall, two men, identically dressed as the first two, who still held her, were dropping four hemp ropes, two on either side of her, the ends of which just touched the chess board.

Twenty feet above at the ceiling they were attached to four pulleys. The ceiling vault was criss-crossed by iron rods mirroring the pattern of the chess board below. On each rod ran a wheel attached to a hook to hang a pulley block. The rods running across the roof were at a higher level that those running from end to end allowing free passage of the wheels to any point of the roof. Tatiana was still staring upwards uncomprehending when she became aware of the two inner ropes being tied tightly round her wrists by the two men either side of her on the chess board. The man on her right looked up to the men on the gantry and spoke one word "Los."

She gasped in surprise as the ropes attached to her wrists tightened under weight applied to the rope through the pulley system by the men on the gantry, lifting her arms high over her head and to the side like the letter 'Y'. A buzz of excitement was now running through the hall which had been eerily silent while the terrible man in the throne had spoken his chilling words. What happened next shook Tatiana out of her shocked state even if she found it difficult to believe what they were going to do to her.

One of the two men with her on the chess board produced a short, curved knife which he inserted into the square neckline of her heavy gown and began to draw it steadily down in one long cut that sheared her clothing from neck to hem. Then, inserting the point of the knife between wrist and cuff, he slit her sleeves along the backs of her arms and the shoulders of the gown leaving just a few shreds of neck-band on either side.

He stepped back from her, looked at the crowd, then with one swift motion ripped the entire gown, under garments included, from her body leaving her so suddenly, shockingly naked apart from her silk hose that the entire audience let out a gasp of astonishment at his skill and also at her beauty! For beautiful indeed she was; her skin as white as alabaster, her waist slender, its curve running delightfully into smoothly rounded buttocks. Her breasts, surprisingly large for her slim frame but firm, high and beautifully formed with large dark and protruding aureola, now straining upwards as her arms were pulled by the ropes.

Quickly removing her stockings so she was completely naked they then attached the remaining two ropes to her ankles leaving plenty of slack. Finally looping each rope under a hook on the chess board two squares directly to her left and the other two squares to her right. The two then joined their companions on the gantry. At a signal all four men simultaneously took up slack and she was lifted clear of the floor in one fluid movement into a spread-eagled position facing the demon who sat on the throne.

He leaned forwards, scrutinising her naked, exposed body. A silence enveloped the hall. He spoke.

"You are about to experience pain beyond the capability of your mind to imagine. The man who will inflict this pain is a master, the master, of his craft. So great is his skill, his fame has spread beyond his native Prussia. I had him brought here, at great expense, for just such an occasion as this. The gentlemen who have secured you so beautifully displayed before me, are his assistants. He is called 'Whipmeister'. Soon you will know why".

He made a gesture with his right hand and Tatiana felt a fear, like no other, rise into her breast. Two more 'assistants', dressed like the others in short leather kilts, entered the hall . Between them they carried a large wooden chest which they placed before the throne where Tatiana could see it. They opened the chest. Tatiana's eyes widened as she beheld a collection of what looked like dozens of whips of every conceivable type. One by one, the instruments of her forthcoming torment, were withdrawn from the chest and shown to her, close to her face. There were short whips, long whips, Many stranded whips, flat straps of tanned leather in many different widths, one in particular was ten inches wide and as long as the blade of a galley oar, it's tan leather gleamed with a high polish. There were whips of many different materials. Plaited leather, cordage, fine bamboo, even silk. The now empty chest was removed from her sight. The whips were now arranged on a hanging rack that had been brought forward from somewhere out of her sight.

At an unseen signal the two assistants moved to either side of the chessboard. She could no longer see them. There was an excited shout in the hall and a mounting of tension.

From the rear of the room entered a tall figure wearing a full length, black, hooded cloak. He made his way to the dais and bowed before the seated figure who acknowledged the bow and spoke a single command, " Begin".

The Whipmeister raised his arms to the side and his two assistants came forwards to remove his cloak. As they removed it from sight he turned to face the bound, trembling Tatiana. He was huge. Almost seven feet tall with a huge barrel chest and the broadest shoulders Tatiana had ever seen. His massive arms were corded with muscle. He was dressed as his assistants but with the addition of a traditional executioners mask of fine black leather which covered his head and face, his skin gleamed with oil.

The crowd roared their appreciation. With a lithe motion he stepped to the whip rack and selected a whip. He turned. She saw that he had selected the broadest strap, the one that reminded her of an oar blade. He swished the strap before her a few times, checking it's feel, adjusting his grip on the plaited handle. The strap was four feet long and almost one third of an inch thick. She noticed how supple it was. He stepped to her left and behind her out of her line of sight. He looked to his assistants, the two on the chess board, the four others overhead in the gantry, checking their readiness. They nodded their acknowledgements. As the Whipmeister drew back the mighty strap for his first blow the assistants in the gantry increased their pull on the ropes.

Tatiana felt herself stretched to complete immobility. The blow, when it landed, was delivered with such force that she was driven forwards almost twelve inches in spite of the tension in the ropes. Landing clean across both buttocks, with a report like a cannon shot, it drove every breath of air from her lungs. She emitted an inhuman bellow combining shock, pain, outrage and disbelief at what was being done to her. She hung limply in her bonds which had slackened slightly. She gasped for air, unable yet to scream, her body gleamed with her sweat, her hair which had come unbound was sticking to her back and forehead.

One of the assistants stepped forward with a knife and cut her hair off at the nape of her neck. Nothing could be allowed to impede the course of the whip. Now feeling the full pain from her tortured buttocks she dropped her head back only managing the beginning of a scream when the ropes tightened once more and the second blow arrived, again across her buttocks with equal force to the first. The pain she experienced from this second blow landing on her already outraged crimson flesh of her buttocks made her eyes bulge and the world exploded into white lights.

She could hear someone faraway screaming. The next two blows were to the small of her back and across her shoulders. Now she was shrieking uncontrollably, crying, begging them to stop. They had only just begun. She had no way of knowing that the agony she was suffering under the 'galley oar' strap was nothing compared to what was to come. The blows continued until ever inch of her back from neck to ankles had received two strokes from the strap and was a uniform shade of red. She had fainted twice, but bitter herbs were burnt under her nose to revive her. When they started on the front of her body she thought she would go mad.

The pain caused by this monstrous strap to her sensitive breasts and belly sent her into paroxysms of shrieking, raving and praying to God to let her die. Her tormentors were far too clever to let her die. Now that back and front had received equal treatment, the purpose of the hooks on the chess board and the movable pulley connections in the ceiling became clear. Moving with the trained precision of experienced sailors, letting out and pulling in rope, altering rope anchorage points in floor and ceiling they were able to suspend Tatiana in a great variety of positions designed to allow the strap access to every square inch of her body. Thus the insides of her thighs and the tender flesh of her under arms was subjected to the same savage treatment as the rest of her reddened body. They had her now on her back on the chess board, the ropes on her wrists looped through hooks in the floor above her head.

Her feet were raised steadily until she was stretched rigidly at an angle of forty five degrees to the floor. The blocks her ankle ropes were attached to were then pulled to new anchorage points at opposite sides of the ceiling. This drew her legs as far apart as was anatomically possible, forming a 'T' with her torso.

The Whipmeister stepped between her legs. Using a knotted cord he carefully measured the external dimensions of her vagina. Stepping to the whip rack he selected a strap that matched his measurements exactly. The strap was three feet long and four inches wide and of the same material as the 'galley oar' She was whimpering and semi-conscious.

The vicious stroke he applied downward to her helpless and most tender part of her body brought her to full consciousness immediately. She screamed with a volume and with such anguish that people in the room were forced to cover their ears. He applied a further two strokes, with equally satisfying results. When she regained consciousness, she had been returned to the 'X' position.

Bitter herbs were once again being burnt under her nose. Wine was poured into her throat to revive her. She groaned as waves of pain washed over her. Every part of her skin felt on fire. The Whipmeister stood before her very close to her. He was looking deep into her eyes as though looking for a sign. H e nodded, satisfied with what he had seen in her eyes. Turning to the throne he spoke for the first time.

"She is prepared." She could not comprehend the meaning of the words. She felt as if she had been beaten to within an inch of death. " Prepared for what? To die? Oh please, God let it be so. " Her confusion must have been evident. The man in the throne spoke again " Did you think that was all? Did you really think that in the presence of the Whipmeister you only receive a few blows from the broad strap? Let me explain. The broad strap is merely a means of preparing your flesh for the more subtle and exact techniques in the use of the other whips. This is where the Whipmeister made his name. He can produce more varieties of pain from your nerve endings than there are stars in the heavens. He can raise you to peaks of agony that will have you teetering on the edge of madness. He can bring you levels of sexual sensation you never dreamed existed, spending your fluids again and again.

Then quickly to another level of torment worse than the last. Ah, we have an interesting night ahead of us. Don't you think so" She looked over to where the Whipmeister was selecting his first whip. She began to scream uncontrollably as the enormity of what was to come filled her mind with primal terror. His selection is made. He nods to his assistants. The ropes tighten. Her journey into the depths of hell begins

PART TWO. The wooden fruit.

He whipped her mercilessly, with fiendish method and precision. The beautiful and proud Tatiana, 19 year old bride of Baltek, the Protector of Prague. Captured following the defeat of her husband's forces by the Turks and now a captive of his cruellest enemies. She had been stripped, bound at wrists and ankles and spread-eagled upright by ropes suspended from pulley blocks on the ceiling and looped through iron hooks embedded in the paved marble floor of the main hall of this captured stronghold. Her humiliation, in being displayed naked before the gathering in the hall, was in itself a torture. No man, save her husband, had ever beheld her naked before. Yet here she was, being devoured by the eyes of at least a hundred men. And women! For the eyes of the women were full of predatory greed and lascivious pleasure in the anticipation of what was to come.

Her torturer. The 'Whipmeister'; a giant of a man, hugely muscled, had 'prepared' her body for the torment by systematically beating her all over with a ten inch wide leather strap shaped like the blade of a galley oar. The pain he had inflicted with this instrument had almost driven her into total insanity and she had screamed time and again for merciful death to overtake her, to release her from her agony; in vain. The 'Galley Oar' had left her flesh crimson, her every nerve ending on fire, horrifyingly sensitised. From neck to feet, no square inch of her was untouched. The torturer's assistants had skilfully rearranged her posture for each stroke of the massive whip by taking in and releasing the ropes that bound her so securely, so helplessly.

When the true whipping began, the very first stroke threw her mind to a new level of disbelief at the intensity of pain that can be inflicted on a human body. She did not see the blow coming. She could not, she was still in a spread-eagled position held by the four ropes but now angled forward at an angle of 45%. The Whipmeister stood behind her, between her spread legs, holding a multi-tailed whip of flat leather strips. He drew the whip back behind him, paused momentarily, then brought it down in a ferocious overhand strike, at the same time, stepping forward with his left leg to increase the speed of the impact. As the pointed tips of the multiple strands made contact high on her shoulders, he drew his arm down and back quickly, delivering the devilish lash equally across her entire back and buttocks. Then, with the dexterity born of years of practice, he sent an equally powerful, under arm stroke, up between her legs, thrashing her breasts, belly and vagina. So swift and flowing was his action, the sound of the two lashes almost blended into one. The gasp and subsequent roar of approval from the assembly in the hall was almost drowned out by the inhuman screaming of Tatiana. He waited until her screaming had subsided to mewling sobs before he delivered the next double stroke as skilfully as the last. A great spray of sweat flew from her body as the blow landed, her lips were drawn fully back from her teeth. Her eyes bulged in sheer dementia and the sound she emitted was the snarling of a crazed, wild animal, driven past the bounds of reason. Again he waited for the screaming to subside. A longer wait, this time. The third stroke. Tatiana went into a paroxysm of convulsion, her tortured body quivering and twitching within the confines of her bonds, her eyes rolled up into their sockets so that only the whites could be seen, as her mind frantically fought to escape from this hell.

They revived her again, poured wine into her drooling mouth, repositioned her in her bonds and the 'Whipmeister' resumed his work. Now was the time for his speciality. The small whips. The subtle whips. The whips of strange and exotic materials. Of silk, bamboo, ivory and hessian. Whips applied with cunning and an intimate knowledge of human anatomy. Whips to produce a range of sensations; from the ultimate of physical and mental pain to the most acute sensual pleasures.

For the next hour a complex ballet was played out before the fascinated and increasingly aroused spectators. The assistants sprang about like acrobats, working their cunning rope webs, twisting Tatiana into an endless series of strange and complicated bodily positions that presented different parts of her anatomy to their master, who administered carefully judged blows and strokes of various intensity, drawing from his victim an eerie music of shrieks, groans and moans of pleasure. He knew all the secret places of her body better than she did.

He used his knowledge to control her totally, both physically and mentally, for Tatiana, as a person, had ceased to exist. She had become someone, or something else. She was in a maelstrom of sensual experience, totally disorientated by the violent and swift changes to her body posture, not knowing where the next sensation would assault her or whether it would be pain or pleasure or both. At one point he had drawn a silken cord flail across her back and it had felt like the caress of an angel's wing but when it was drawn away it left fingers of molten lava on her flesh that drove her into shrieking hysteria. He had used a short springy rattan cane, topped with a small ivory ball, to deliver sharp blows to the nerve centre located within the small triangular muscle just above the cleft of her buttocks, creating agonising muscle cramps in various parts of her torso, according to where exactly he struck and with how much force. He used the same instrument on the soles of her feet, again with surgical precision, that threw her into a series of intense convulsions. He moved about with a lithe grace that belied his bulk. He was tireless in the pursuit of his art. He was doing what he was born to do.

Tatiana had no notion of time. Her identity had gone, but as the beating continued another doorway within her mind was being dragged open. Something was happening to her that was outside her experience. A lassitude and acceptance of her pain was transcending all else. She started to feel an unfamiliar but not unpleasant tingling that seemed to begin somewhere low down in the small of her back. Suddenly, as a firm whip strike coursed across her swollen buttocks, the tingling rushed, like a bolt of lightning, in both directions along her spine, simultaneously bursting into her brain and her loins, causing her to release a moan of desperate need unlike any sound she had so far emitted. As the next stroke struck, her buttocks involuntarily rose to meet it and her shriek had an edge to it that her torturer had been waiting to hear.

The 'Whipmeister' took a step back and motioned to his assistants. They quickly brought her to the forward leaning spread position. Moving swiftly he removed a coil of silk cord from his whip rack and held it up to be seen. The fifteen feet of cord terminated in four carved wooden fruit at six inch intervals on the last two feet of line. The largest, at the extreme end was a lemon. Six inches back was a clementine, followed by a plum and finally a large grape. The fruit were smooth and highly polished. He lowered the fruit into a jar of oil held by one of his assistants and approached the now limp and gasping figure of Tatiana hanging from her ropes. Stepping behind her, he used one hand to spread her buttocks and with the other he steadily worked the oiled wooden lemon past her sphincter and into her anus. Using an inch thick ivory rod he pushed the fruit deep into her rectum and then fed the other fruit inside her one by one, finally forcing the last, the grape, deep into her. Finally he produced a ball of bees' wax mixed with alum which he also pushed firmly into her rectum. The powerful astringent effect of the alum immediately caused her rectum and sphincter to tighten dramatically so that she could not possibly expel the invaders within her bowels. Stepping round to face her, he now drew the line between her widespread legs and carefully led it between the now dripping lips of her labia. She moaned as his fingers opened her to place the line. He allowed a half-smile to cross his face as he pulled the line up over her belly, through between her sweat soaked and swollen breasts and tossed the remaining length over her left shoulder, allowing the last few feet to drop behind her. Reaching beneath her suspended body, he retrieved the end of the line, once more drawing it towards him again between her labial lips. He slowly drew the cord tight, causing it to force it's way higher into her vagina and exerting a downward pull on the smallest of the wooden fruit in her rectum. At this new internal sensation, Tatiana's eyes bulged wide open and she uttered a strangled cry. The 'Whipmeister' nodded to his assistants who stood behind her. They began to beat her buttocks and back in a slow, measured rhythm, using short leather floggers. With a similar instrument, the 'Whipmeister' began to beat her breasts, alternating his strokes between left and right, in time with the whipping of her back. Then he began to increase his pull on the silken cord causing the first wooden fruit, the grape, to begin its slow, inexorable journey down her anal canal towards her tight, tight sphincter.

Tatiana had never experienced orgasm. Her strict Catholic up-bringing had left her totally unaware of the concept of female sexual climax. She enjoyed love-making with her husband but Baltek was skilled in the arts of war, not in the arts of the bed chamber. Their brief, frantic, couplings had always left her feeling unfulfilled and confused. She had never masturbated, believing as she did that such acts were a mortal sin. She was therefore totally unprepared for the feelings that began to wash over her as the whips and the slowly travelling grape began to drive her to the brink. As the wooden grape began to spread her sphincter and emerge she passed the point of no return. She began to buck and writhe wildly in her bonds, thrusting her buttocks and breasts to meet the whip blows, savouring the sweet, sweet agony they brought, welcoming each blow as the unbelievable pleasure in her loins increased. The steady pull on the cord was now bringing the wooden grape upwards, parting the swollen lips of her vagina which was now flooding with her lubricating juices. The measurement of cord between the wooden fruits had been carefully contrived. Just as the next fruit, the plum, emerged through her sphincter, the grape touched her clitoris and began to travel up and over the sensitive organ. With a wail of anguish and triumph that shook the rafters of the hall, Tatiana reached orgasm, a spectacular spray of liquid bursting from her convulsing vulva. Wave after wave of the most intense pleasure swept through her lust maddened sex as she rode her first climax like a wild horse. Now the third fruit was emerging from her arsehole, which was in a state of uncontrollable spasm, as the second fruit broached the entrance to her vagina. Her uterine walls began a series of rapid contractions causing waves of rippling convulsions to run up and down her vulva. Her vaginal lips were frantically trying to capture the tantalising plum, to pull it inside her, to devour it, but it refused to be captured and rode steadily across her protruding erect clitoris driving her into an orgasm that eclipsed the first in it's intensity. Her demented shrieks rent the air as a further gout of fluid erupted from her loins and her writhing within her bonds became maniacal. She had reached a multiple orgasmic plateau, thrusting her pelvis forward madly as climax after climax flowed through her. Her heart was racing at a rate that would surely kill her as the final fruit, the lemon, left her anal canal and the clementine approached her clitoris, now purple and protruding. She was frantically gasping for air, her face and neck almost black, her blood vessels and sinews swollen like ships' cables as the multiple orgasms no longer came in sequence but flowed together like a tidal wave. She went rigid in her rope prison and her entire body began to quiver like a plucked bow string. They had stopped whipping her now, the entire company in the room fascinated by the sight of this beautiful young woman, driven to insanity and to the edge of death by orgasm, suspended in an increasing convulsion, her face a mask of tension and ecstasy, her love juices still running from her tortured sex.

The torturer turned to face the Turk in the throne. "Sire?" The Turk pondered for a moment then he spoke, "Save her. A woman who can climax like that will make an interesting contribution to my harem."

The 'Whipmeister' signalled to his men. They brought the still convulsing, twitching Tatiana's legs forwards and he stepped between them. The wooden lemon still dangled from it's cord, level with her gaping vagina. He inserted the lemon into her and, using his ivory rod pushed it slowly into her uterus. As the fruit went deep inside her Tatiana's head fell back and she uttered a long, drawn out, deep throated roar that no one in the room would ever be able to forget. As the lemon reached her cervix and pushed insistently at the entrance to her womb she collapsed limp and unconscious, hanging from her wrist and ankle ropes.

They lowered her gently to the floor and untied her. At a command, female attendants rushed forward, bearing her up and wrapping her in a soft towelling robe. "See that she is well cared for." The Turk ordered. As they made to carry her away she came to semi-consciousness and spoke a word. The Turk was too far away to hear what she said although he knew she had spoken. The 'Whipmeister' however, was close enough to hear. "What did she say?" demanded the Turk.

The 'Whipmeister' shook his head in perplexity. "She said, more, Sire. MORE!"…….

To be continued………

Download Porn Pictures From This Stories. BDSMArtWork Full Siterip!

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
Comments Off