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| Reina | Back to O | Back to main page |
Collected by Djian
Reina
by Peterloaf©
>4<
Johnny Dewit drives his restored classic MG through the light, late evening
traffic. He is whistling tunelessly, a smug, self-satisfied man.
Sitting beside him, Sally Smyth/Phillips rides in silence, her feet hobbled in
close chains, her knees spread wide and secured by thick leather straps
attached to the sides of the seat frame, her short skirt pushed up and tucked
in around her waistband to expose her bare, freshly waxed loins. Her arms are
at her sides, held to the seat's sides by Velcro straps at wrists and elbows.
The gag she wears is not visible to anyone, but is no less effective. It
consists of a half pound flat ovoid of lead, coated in heavy plastic and
clipped to the ring in her tongue. She thus has two choices. She can hold the
weighty thing in her mouth and look normal, or she can spit it out and let it
dangle from her tongue. Either way, she won't be doing much talking.
Even if she had the use of her hands, she would not change any of these
arrangements, she is exactly where she wants to be, on her way out to Lord
Benton's place for a few days vacation from the high pressure world of
corporate law.
She only wishes Johnny wouldn't drive so aggressively, she knows she won't
enjoy explaining herself to the police.
Sally watches impassively as the truck driver Johnny is passing almost inhales
his cigar as he gets a look down into the open car. She hears the truck's
supercharger spooling up as the man tries to get another look. Johnny gives
the man a wave, then guns his little sports car away, taking Sally with him.
Having supported herself through university by working for Lord Benton, Sally
knows well what her future holds. She can't wait.
As the early summer sun sets, Johnny reaches over and unbuttons Sally's blouse,
pulling it open to reveal her small, nipple ringed breasts. Fondling these, he
expertly brings her twin erections up to a state of aching need then reaches
into his shirt pocket for a pair of small golden hooks connected by a heavy
golden chain. When this is strung between her nipple rings he tugs on it,
bringing a gasp from Sally as she tries to follow its pull.
Smiling to himself, Johnny drives on into the night, one hand caressing Sally,
the other on the steering wheel.
The massive wooden gates swing open upward like a garage door to the signal
from Johnny's transmitter and the MG motors slowly up the driveway, his date
already half way into her slave state.
Behind them, a shadow moves, hobbling out of the brush and rolling under the
gates just as they close.
Johnny stops the car in the mansion's entry shelter, turns and buckles the dog
collar around Sally's throat, saying, "Welcome home Sally, The Master will be
so happy to see you again."
From the bulge in Johnny's pants leg Sally knows the Master won't be only one
who'll enjoy her visit.
"Oy there, Johnny! Did you just drive in through the gates?" Lord Benton
shouts from an upper window.
"Yes sir! I brought our Sally back for a little R&R."
"Damn it, son, I wish you'd remember to call ahead. We've got one running
loose again!"
"Oh shit!" Johnny says, looking back down the driveway, trying to remember if
he'd watched the gate until it had completely closed. No, he'd been distracted
by the way Sally had suddenly broken out in a whole body sweat.
Reading his son's thoughts, the older man shouts, "Go cruise the road. Perhaps
you can spot her before she gets away, I'll get the dogs and follow her scent
trail." Pulling his head inside he disappeared for a second then reappeared to
shout, "By the way, its Francine again. I had Glodson discipline her today for
offensive language. A few minutes ago Cindy discovered her cell was empty."
"Damn!" Gunning his motor, Johnny circles the car back down the drive and
heads for the gate, taking Sally with him because there is no time to put her
somewhere safe. This time, after he passes through, he sits and watches the
gate close behind him to insure no-one slips out.
Turning to look first to the right then to the left, he asks, "Would she head
toward the town, or away, do you think?"
Sally, having thought long and hard on the subject in her time, nods to the
right, away from town. He cranks the wheel right and eases the clutch.
"So you think she'll try and find some clothes before finding her knight in
shining?"
Again Sally nods.
"Me too." he says, keeping the car at a crawl and getting a heavy aluminum
flashlight out from under the seat.
Cruising quietly, he sweeps the flashlight back and forth along the sides of
the road, here closely fenced in RAF chain link on one side and walled on the
other, hoping to catch sight of the fugitive. Then, less than two hundred
meters from the gates, he spots the woman, crouching, trying to hide behind a
low bush.
When he stops and begins to get out of the car, Francine stands up and tries to
run for it, her closely shackled ankles and useless arms dooming her to
failure.
"Oh please Johnny, let me go." Francine says, falling to her knees before him.
"I'll do anything."
"Yes, you will." Johnny says, clipping a leash to first one nipple then, after
a little stretching, the other, pulling the helpless woman's large breasts
cross-eyed. Leading her back to the car, he has her sit on Sally's lap and
soon they are back inside the protective walls of the estate.
Leaving Sally where she is, Johnny takes Francine into the mansion where he
turns her nipple leash over to an evilly grinning Glodson.
After Johnny goes back to get Sally out of the car Glodson asks, "How far did
you get?"
"Half a mile maybe." Francine says quietly and without moving her lips.
"I warned you not to leave the estate."
"You can't blame a girl for trying."
"The Master will, bet on it."
"What will he do?" Francine asks, her whisper taking on a frightened tone.
"Something you will not enjoy, would be my bet." says the dwarf, leading her
up
the stairs by her cross-eyed nipples. "But I'll also bet he makes you come."
he continues, chuckling.
Johnny comes in the door leading Sally by her clit ring, her clothing now
removed and carried in his hand. Hobbling after him, her hands fastened
together behind her back, Sally follows her clit ring with complete slavish
concentration. She feels sexy and wonderful, as if she were coming home.
Reina lies in her cell, eating her French bread as best she can without the use
of her hands. After four hours in the yoke she can barely lift her head,
barely move, barely think.
She wonders if all her slave days will be like today, wonders if she will adapt
like all those others, if she too will become this man's property.
The solicitor warned her that entering those gates would be the end of her
freedom. At the time she'd had to cross her legs at that thought, thinking of
Johnny and the wonderful things he'd done to her under that table.
I wonder why the thought of bondage has always made me feel like this. She
thinks, chewing off another mouthful of the bread. Her mind's eye seeing
herself fixed to the mother superior's whipping bench, her bottom a nearly
perfect grid of painful welts, having the young nun teach her the carnal
pleasures of a carved ivory dildo.
Are we canalized to want what first we had? Do we become fixated on one aspect
of sexuality over the others, simply because our brains associate that one
thing with past sexual pleasure? Or is it more complicated? Perhaps we come
to life with pre-wired needs, desires that make no sense, yet become so
powerful that empires have been destroyed in their pursuit.
There comes a sound and her cell door opens, admitting Johnny and his apparent
date, a short blond with a dancer's way of moving so that his leash almost
never tugs on her clit.
"Reina, meet Sally, she's going to help train you to serve the Master." Johnny
says, bending down to pass Sally's leash through one of the recessed rings in
the cell floor and slowly beginning to pull her down to it, giving the young
woman time to arrange herself on her knees. Johnny snubs her down a little
tighter so that her knees are forced to spread a fraction wider, then attaches
two double ended snap-hooks between the ring beneath her and her labia rings,
tethering her to that spot.
Removing the leash from her clit ring he attaches it to her collar, then begins
to remove his clothing, the fire that both women remember well, burning behind
his eyes.
Reina sits up on her sleeping pad and watches, unconsciously licking her lips
as Johnny slips his long banana shaped cock into Sally's accepting mouth. She
tastes the memory of his pre-cum, her head spinning in lust, hoping that there
will be enough of him to do her as well. Then, with a small smile she
remembers how much of Johnny there is to go around and sits back to enjoy the
show.
Sally, having been taught the skills required by the Bentons, is giving Johnny
a two alarm blowjob. All the bells and whistles but not seriously trying to
bring him off, just yet.
Johnny's eyes watch Sally's face for a few seconds then switch to Reina's.
"You may speak if you wish, but remember the punishment for abusive language."
Reina thinks about the things she might say at this point and decides to
remain safely mute.
"Good plan!" he says, reading her mind, his hips continuing to fuck Sally's
face.
Then, laughing, he asks, "Are you as horny as your body says you are?"
She looks down at her nipples, still sore from her ringing this morning but now
tightened into long and painful fingers of super-sensitivity. She feels her
pussy juice soaking into the mattress beneath her, knows the truth. She has
come here because she wanted more of Johnny.
It wasn't the money that sent her to that solicitor, or jail or anything but
her lust for Johnny's Mastery of her, his long skinny cock, his ruthlessness,
his incredible pleasures.
Sally, sensing what is passing between Johnny and Reina, softly bites his
foreskin to get his attention, then winks up at him, disengages her mouth from
his cock and says, "Go on, take her, I'll wait right here."
Johnny looks down at the pussy tethered Sally and chuckles, "I'll bet you
will."
Reina, hands and feet shackled, her naked body suddenly dewed with passion
sweat, sits with her back to the wall and watches him walk across the cell
toward her, his big wet banana pointing the way. She watches with hooded eyes
as he fastens a dog collar around her throat and clips it to a ring in the wall
behind her with a short loose length of chain.
He then bends down to grip her ankle shackles and lifts her feet up to padlock
them to a ring in the wall above her head. As her back slides down the wall
the throat tether tightens. She is suddenly trapped, her bottom displayed and
available to anything that might come its way. She feels ropes being tied
around her knees, spreading them to the limits imposed by her hobble chain. A
third rope nooses her wrist shackles to a ring in the middle of the cell
floor.
Kneeling before the altar he has made of her wiggling, sweat dewed butt, he
toys with her clit and labia rings, making her gasp and cry out in submissive
need. He then kisses her clit, suckling her ring pierced nubbin in between his
nibbling teeth. He slides his tongue deep into her vulva and uses it like a
drain snake to further stimulate her desire. He rubs his nine o'clock shadow
into her waxed pussy, reminding her of the time she sat on a hairbrush. He
gets up and rubs his hot cock through between her spread legs, not entering
yet but smearing himself with her juices.
Then, with the first long sensuous thrust of his cock. she passes back into her
slave state, becoming nothing but pussy, tight, willing, eager to please,
submissive, pussy.
It is three hours before he lets either of his prisoners come. And when they
do, it is together.