Mellisa's Master	Back to Q	Back to main page

Collected by Djian
updated sep 12 2005
updated jan 30 2011

M/f, D/s, humil, oral, spank, pierce, submission

Mellisa's Master
By unknown (let me know for credit :-)


ONE

I had an unexceptional childhood, and a rather pleasant youth. I was not afflicted with the same doubts and uncertainties that seemed to grip the other girls I knew. I was not concerned about the direction my life was taking, or terribly insecure with my looks or popularity.

This was not due to any particular superiority of myself over others. It was, in fact, due to circumstances entirely beyond my control.

First of all, I was born to wealthy parents, both doctors. My father was a surgeon, my mother a psychiatrist. Almost from the moment I could walk I was aware that I too, would someday be a doctor. The specialty didn't matter. Medicine would be my profession.

My parents brought me up to be confident in my abilities, self-reliant, and able to look after myself. I talked to them often, particularly my mother, about the changes in my life and how I was coping with them. They helped me avoid many of the pitfalls that beset others.

As for my looks, well, there was no point in trying to delude myself about them. Both my parents were handsome people, and I got my looks from them.

I was blonde, with a somewhat small, rounded face, a firm little jaw, bright blue eyes, and a little snub nose. I was slender, but full chested, with a very narrow waist and round, firm buttocks. My legs were long and smoothly contoured right down to my trim little ankles.

So I was not terribly worried about my looks, about my appeal to others. My looks had brought praise from the time I was a little girl and I had confidence in them.

I dated in high school, but not a lot. It took very high grades to get into Harvard medical school, and to fail would be unthinkable. I threw myself into my studies to ensure I got accepted, and that didn't leave as much time for dating as I would have liked.

I lost my virginity at sixteen in the back seat of a Chevy, with my skirt shoved up around my waist, my panty hose torn open, and the crotch of my panties shoved to one side. It was not a pleasant experience. It hurt, lasted only a couple of minutes, and left me feeling dirty and disappointed.

I was not in any hurry for a repetition, and I did not have sex with a boy again until my senior prom, when I did it mostly out of gratitude and a sense that I owed it to him. It was much more pleasant than the first time, and, if the guy had lasted just a few minutes longer, I think I might have actually had an orgasm.

I didn't, though, and went on to pre-med at college. Here, I really threw myself into my studies, and had even less time for dating than I'd had in high school.

During the entire four years of pre-med I had sex precisely once, with another pre-med that I was having an all night study session with.

We were both exhausted, both mentally and physically. We took a bit of a break, got to talking, one thing led to another, and we kind of did it there on my bed, with out clothes half off. It was more of a grinding session than making love, but I actually came, though weakly.

After I entered medical school, I got involved with another student. We didn't have much time, but we did make love once or twice a week for five months before breaking up. I enjoyed our love-making sessions, but wasn't exactly mad about sex. I mean, I wasn't in any danger of becoming a nymphomaniac.

I graduated, making my parents very proud of me, and started my internship at one of the more prestigious teaching hospitals on the east coast. I had several lovers during this time, but none that I remember as being exceptionally gifted.

I was in my last year of residency, supervising my own interns, when I met Jonathan Stone. I was at a fund -raiser for the hospital's new wing. He was a wealthy man whom the Chief of Medicine was hoping to put the arm on for a substantial contribution.

I was in a grey tweed jacket, long, pleated skirt, and boots. My hair was cut short, about collar length, with somewhat long bangs across my forehead. I was drinking a Perrier, because I was going on duty that evening.

A man moved up beside me, so quietly I didn't even see or hear him. He was just... there. I gasped when I realized this and spilled some water on my sleeve.

"Sorry," he said, smiling.

He was in his forties, tall, broad shouldered, rock jawed, very, very masculine, you know. His hair was brown, but starting to grey prematurely at the temples, and he had penetrating, steel-grey eyes.

"No, I mean...it's not your fault," I said, brushing at the drops of water on my sleeve.

"I like your taste in clothes," he said.

I'd barely looked up at him before, being annoyed at his startling me, and concerned with my spill. I glanced up then and noticed he was wearing what could have been the exact same tweed jacket as I wore, with the same black turtleneck under it.

I smiled and nodded absently, then he pulled out a handkerchief and gallantly offered it to me. I took it with thanks, and no little embarrassment, and dabbed at my sleeve.

"I'm Jonathan Stone," he said.

"Doctor Mellisa McBride," I replied, not looking up.

Then his name sank through to me and I did look up.

"Oh, Mister Stone. I've heard of you. That is, Mister Steinberg mentioned your interest in the hospital."

"Did he now?" he smiled.

There was something about his eyes that seemed to bore right through to my soul, and I found myself very uncomfortable, without understanding why. I tried to shake it off but it continued and grew worse. There was just something about him, a powerful and intimidating presence that made me feel insecure for the first time.

"And what do you do here, Mellisa?" he asked.

I noted the use of my first name, but didn't feel the irritation I normally would have at such patronizing disrespect.

"I'm an emergency room specialist," I said.

"Very unprofitable, the emergency room."

"In money, not in lives."

He nodded, and I swallowed and tried to tear my eyes away. I succeeded, looking down at my sleeve and dabbing again. I felt my eyes drawn back up to his face, though, and when I looked up felt caught, like a fly in a web.

"You're a lovely woman, Mellisa," he said. "It seems a great pity you have to work amidst such pain and unhappiness."

He reached out and slid his hand along my cheek, then through my hair and over my ear. My skin felt hot in its passing, and only with a great effort did I turn away.

"Excuse me," I whispered. "I... have to clean this off."

I turned away and walked through the crowd to the door, then, breathing deeply, surprised at how hot it'd been in there, I strode down the hall to the ladies room.

I ran my sleeve under the hot air dryer, then turned on the water and wiped my face with a damp clothe. I dried my hands and left the room to head back to the meeting room where the brunch was being held.

It was Saturday, and this was the administration section of the hospital. It was almost entirely empty, the clerks and pencil pushers gone home for the weekend, yet I noticed the door of one of the offices open as I came to it.

I looked in, of course, and stopped. It was him, Stone, and he was leaving through a file on a desk.

"Excuse me," I said, feeling a spurt of indignation. "Should you be in there?"

He didn't answer. He ignored me. I frowned irritably, then stepped through the door and walked over to the desk. I put my hand on a file as he was about to open it and his head spun around, his eyes catching me, a cold, furious glare in them.

I caught my breath in shock, then felt a ripple of fear. He caught my hand and jerked it up sharply. I gasped, but then he kissed the back of my hand. Again I felt caught by his eyes, and felt my limbs turning liquid, my insides quivering.

He stepped forward, and I backed up. I backed up into the credenza that was against the wall behind the desk.

He still had my hand, and I reached up instinctively with my other hand, pushing against his chest as he loomed over me. He took that too, then jerked both hands up suddenly, slamming them back against the wall above my head.

I cried out, a low, frightened sound as my buttocks pressed back hard against the edge of the credenza and my legs shifted off-balance on the floor. His groin was pressing into mine, and I realized my legs were spread wide.

He let go of my hands then, moving like lightning. His left hand was behind my head suddenly, jerking my head to one side as his lips crushed mine. His right hand was under my buttocks, squeezing and kneading my buttocks through the pleated skirt.

He jerked my left leg up, shoving it back on top of the credenza as he ground himself into my loins with heavy, violent movements. His right hand shifted up onto my left breast and he squeezed it hard, painfully hard.

My hands fluttered feebly, then pushed against his chest. I moaned, the sound muffled by his hungry mouth. His tongue shot into me, fast, hard and deep.

His right hand shoved my skirt up, jammed under it and grabbed at my panties. Then he tore them off, ripping them like they were tissue paper. I cried out again, shocked, the sound again muffled by his mouth.

His body pressed against me, his hands flying over me, groping, squeezing, twisting back. I heard his zipper going down, felt his hot organ pressed against my thigh.

"No," I gasped.

His cockhead found my slit, and then he thrust up into me with unerring aim, driving his thick manhood deep into my pussy. I was stunned, my mind reeling, my body helpless. I didn't understand what was going on, what was happening to me.

He drew back, then thrust up hard once more, slamming me against the wall and burying his prick up in my guts. He tore my head back and bit down on my throat, then let go, his hands jerking my jacket open, shoving it back over my shoulders.

He gripped my turtleneck over my breasts and tore it open, baring my small black French bra. I stared up at him in shock, then looked down just as he tore the bra open. I cried out as my breasts bounced out into view, then he crushed me into the wall, his lips locking against mine once again.

He began to thrust into me with deep, savage strokes, his hips bruising my thighs, slamming me back against the wall. His hands mauled my breasts as his mouth tore the air out of my lungs. Books and papers on the credenza tumbled to the floor as he pounded me against it, and then he jerked my leg up higher, spreading me open for a deeper penetration.

I ached terribly, his cock spearing me, pounding up into me with a brutal, non-stop pumping motion, yet there was something...some kind of terrible, boiling sexual vortex that had enveloped me, setting my skin afire with lust, turning my mind into a sexual mush.

I felt my pussy burning, so hot, so... incredibly hot. I felt every ridge and bump and vein and hair on his cock as it hissed up and down inside me. It was sawing back and forth through my sex lips fast enough to raise steam, and my head fell back against the wall as the air inside my lungs overheated.

I couldn't breath, couldn't think, couldn't move. My muscles were limp, and he handled me like a rag doll as his cock nailed me to the wall. He was a pile driver, the force of his sex overwhelming, irresistible.

I came, my body shuddering uncontrollably, my head jerking and trembling against the wall. His hands dug under me and gripped my bottom, lifting me completely off the floor and pulling me into him as his entire body pounded me into the wall.

His hand was at my throat then and he tightened it, slammed my head back and crushed my lips to his. He jerked my bottom forward each time he thrust his into me and I ached, how I ached with the terrible impact of his thighs against mine, his manhood against the deepest part of my vaginal sheath.

He was long, and it felt like his head was punching against my cervix. My insides heaved and turned over. Cramps wracked my body. I felt light-headed.

I came again, every nerve ending alive - screaming. I felt the fire searing my gut, rippling up and down my spine like an electrical charge. Convulsions tore through me and my body shook and trembled spasmodically, even as his hips continued to batter me.

I felt his hands tearing at my breasts. They felt incredibly heavy and swollen, so hard, the skin so taut. My nipples were like hard little pebbles, painfully erect, super sensitive, so that they sensed even the air currents.

They crackled and snapped like live wires as his hands squeezed and pinched them, and when he threw me back against the wall and dove on them, when his mouth swallowed my right nipple and a big chunk of flesh, and his teeth bit down hard...

I came again.

His mouth was voracious, and seemed to be trying to suck the nipple right off my breast. I was burning up. I felt like the wicked witch after Dorothy had thrown water on her. I was melting, turning into a limpid, molten mass of flesh.

My mind was blasted by the force of the powerful orgasm. My body shook violently in his grasp. My eyes rolled back in my head and I saw sparkling, multi-coloured lights before my eyes.

His terrible cock stabbed up into me again and again and again, and then he stopped, heavy body pressed against me, pinning me to the wall. I was barely conscious, my chest heaving, my eyes closed, my body exhausted.

He slid his cock back out of me and stepped back, his hands coming off me. I fell against him, then dropped to my knees on the floor, then fell back against the credenza, legs spread, breasts bared.

He rubbed some tissues over his cock, threw them down at me, then put his cock back in his pants, zipped up, and left, closing the door behind him.

I sat there for...I don't know how long, ten minutes, an hour maybe. It took me a while to put the shattered pieces of my mind back together. Then I slowly and painfully dragged myself to my feet.

I tried to close the torn turtleneck, but in the end just buttoned my jacket tightly. I staggered down the hall, trying to maintain some kind of reasonably capable appearance as I made my way to the Emergency department.

I got to my locker, stripped, then got under a shower without any comments, then just stood there under the hot water, soaking...trembling.

I didn't know what had happened to me, or why. I didn't understand how I'd allowed... why I hadn't... stopped him. I didn't know why I had responded like that.

I had never experienced orgasms as powerful. I had never experienced multiple orgasms at all. I had never felt so utterly aroused, so white hot. What it was about Stone that had reached into me and taken control of my body and soul.

It was frightening.

I couldn't go on my shift that evening. I was simply to worn out, too battered. I felt like I'd fallen down a flight of stairs a dozen times. I went home and collapsed into my bed, groaning with the embarrassment of what I had done, and with the uncertainties about my own character that I had never before encountered.

I tossed and turned all night, my body sore, my mind spinning. The few times I did manage to doze off strange and sordid carnal dreams filled my sleeping mind. I would waken to find myself sweating, my loins hot and moist and heavy.

I got up with the sun, though I was still very tired. I ached all over. I went to the full length mirror on the inside of my closet door and stared at myself in shock.

My thighs were black and blue, and there were bruises and bite marks all over my breasts. My lips were puffy and bruised, and, turning, I saw the soft underside of my buttocks were bruised as well from the hard pounding against the edge of the credenza. There were also small round bruises, obviously where his fingers had dug into my soft flesh. My back was sore, but didn't appear bruised

I looked at myself for long minutes, my mind trying to cope with what had happened to me, with what I had allowed to happen. I could credibly say I'd been raped, but what of my lack of resistance, and the terrible, wonderful pleasure I had experienced?

I thought about going to a psychiatrist, but couldn't bear to tell anyone about it. A man would probably be excited, and a woman might look down on me for my lack of restraint, of self-control.

I padded naked to the bathroom and ran a hot bath, then slowly sank into it, sighing in pleasure.

Often I used bubble baths to lay back and daydream. Now my mind continued to try and understand how I had allowed myself to be so thoroughly and completely dominated by a man who was almost a complete stranger. He had used me as a toy and I had responded like a bitch dog.

I had always considered myself a strong, capable woman, and yet I had let a man just... fuck me, and not only been unable to resist physically, had not even tried. Worse, I had been unable to resist mentally. No matter what was done to the body it was the mind that must consent for pleasure to occur.

I sat there in misery, hugging my knees, tears trickling down my face as I tried to face the reality of my own weakness, my own flaws and inadequacies.

I moved very slowly for the next couple of days, my body aching and sore. I limped for three days because of the strain on the tendons of my left thigh where he had shoved it up and back, spreading me open for his attack.

I was jumpy and uncertain at work, sometimes confused, wary around men. At night, I began having dreams, erotic dreams, dreams with Stone in them. Always I was the helpless child in them, he the strong, dominating presence. He used me for his pleasure, forced pleasure upon me.

One morning I woke to find myself coming, my fingers rubbing my sex furiously. The orgasm was powerful, and exhausted me, and afterwards I wept.

I decided I had to confront what was inside me, and to do that must confront him. I decided to do it at his office, where I would at least be physically safe. I made an appointment for mid-afternoon.

I arrived in a power suit, dark blue jacket and trousers and white silk shirt, a red silk scarf around my neck, and black, flat-heeled Gucci shoes on my feet. I didn't sleep the night before, even with sleeping pills, and was so shaky at work I decided to leave after an hour.

I kept telling myself I was an intelligent, strong-willed woman, capable and experienced in dealing with people. I would be in no danger in a busy office in mid-afternoon. No doubt he had secretaries and assistants who would be coming in and out or lingering just outside his office.

His secretary was a man, which was my first surprise. He showed me into an enormous office lined with bookcases and floor to ceiling windows. Stone sat behind a huge marble desk before one of the glass windows, dressed in a dark blue suit not unlike my own, except more expensive, of course.

"Mellisa," he said his face expressionless.

"Doctor McBride, if you don't mind, Mister Stone," I said. I cleared my throat, furious that my voice had sounded squeaky.
"You hold that title up as a shield, don't you, Mellisa," he said. "As if to say how important and capable you are."
"I..."
"You are a woman also."
"Well, of course but..."
"And have a woman's feelings, a woman's... desires."
"Mister Stone," I frowned "I didn't come here to talk about..."
"You came here because of what happened last week."
"Yes, beca..."
"Because it frightened you."
"It would have frightened any woman."
"What frightened you was how you responded."
"I...I..."
"What frightened you was your own sexuality. What frightened you was the force of your orgasms. What frightened you was losing control of yourself."

I nodded dumbly, face flushing. I felt my body prickling with heat, sweating under my jacket and pants.

"It frightened you because you have been taught that sex is bad, that only weak women enjoy it."
"No, I..."
"It frightens you because you can't control it. Because just thinking about what happened makes your heart beat faster, makes your pulse race, makes your loins burn and ache for more."

His voice was thick, heavy, hypnotic. He stared at me and I stared into his eyes, feeling myself lost. I was embarrassed, furious at what he was saying, even though, or maybe, because what he was saying was completely true.

"You've never had a sexual experience as fulfilling, as draining as what happened last week. You hate it, but you want more."

"N...no," I whispered. "I..."

He stood up, and my heart caught. He smiled thinly and came around the desk, stopping in front of me. I clutched the arms of the chair, staring up with wide, terrified eyes.

He sat down in the chair on my right, and looked at me without speaking.

"Tell me you don't dream of me. Tell me you don't dream of what I did, don't masturbate thinking about it. Tell me your fingers don't move on their own down to between your legs. Tell me they don't."

With a tremendous effort I tore my eyes away from him and looked down. I was trembling slightly, my heart pounding like an express train. I was sweating so much my shirt and skirt were stuck to my body.

I cried out as his hand gripped my hair and jerked my head up and back across the top of the chair. My hands reached for his wrist but were feeble, couldn't do anything to pull his hand away. I sobbed in fear, then cried out again as I felt his other hand between my legs, squeezing my groin.

"Tell me you don't want to be bound spread-eagled to a bed naked," his voice whispered his breath hot. "Tell me you don't want to be wrapped in ropes and chains, used by men."

"P...please!" I gasped my voice a tiny squeak.

His hand squeezed my sex and I realized I was on the verge of coming. I was shocked, horrified. His fingers kneaded my pubic mound through my pants and panties, hard fingers digging into the soft, malleable flesh, squeezing and pinching it.

"N...no," I whimpered.

My legs were spread wide automatically as I tried to counteract the pull of his hand on my hair. My scalp ached, burned with pain. I panted for breath, my chest moving like a bellows. I let out a cry of despair.

Then I came.

Massive sensations of sexual pleasure tore through my body and roared through my dazed mind. My body bounced and writhed in the chair and my head jerked feebly in his grasp. Fire burned in my veins and my groin was like a hot, burning stew pot.

I arched my back, thrusting my breasts out, groaning and shaking and twisting in orgasmic release. It seemed to go on and on and on, until I almost blacked out from the force and power of its grip.

Then it slowed and receded. He let go of my hair but my head hung back anyway. I felt too weak to pull it up again. My chest heaved as I tried to breath.

I groaned as I pulled my head up, then I turned away from him, drawing my legs up, pulling my knees in against my chest as I hugged myself and sobbed.

"Guess what," he said. "You're just a weak-willed woman after all, a walking fuck machine begging for a hard cock."

There was a world of arrogance and contempt in his voice, and his words hammered me down into the chair as I buried my face in my hands.

"Miserable, aren't you, yet you still want it."

I didn't answer, couldn't answer, couldn't speak or face him.

He grabbed me by the arm then and I gasped in shock as he dragged me out of the chair and onto the floor. He dragged me several feet as I whimpered and sobbed, then let me go and I lay there on the floor, whimpering helplessly.

"Get up. Get up on all fours," he ordered his voice hard and cold. "Get up!" he hissed.

I did. I had to. I pushed myself up to my hands and knees, tears running down my cheeks.

"That's your position. That's the position of a bitch dog," he sneered.

He gripped my hair again and I sobbed in pain as he forced me up onto my knees, before him. I looked up at him, blinking through my tears. He mashed my face into his groin, and I felt his hardness.

"Unzip me," he said.

As if in a trance my fingers, trembling wildly, went to the front of his pants. I couldn't seem to work his zipper, and he jerked sharply on my hair, making me cry out in pain.

"Do it, you little slut!"

I gasped, his words searing me. I found his zipper and tugged it down.

"Now take my cock out and suck it," he said remorselessly.

I reached my trembling hand into his fly - he had no underwear, and felt his thick hard heat with my fingers. I closed my fingers around it, feeling myself burning with need as I held him in my hands. At the same time I felt humiliated, and could not resolve the conflicting feelings.

I pulled his cock out and stared at it with wide, dazed eyes. Then he slapped me on the side of the face, not hard but it hurt.

"Suck cock, whore!" his voice hissed.

The words sent a dark heat searing through my soul. I slid it against my mouth and then sucked it in. Immediately I felt a terrible wave of lust and pleasure, and sucked hard and heavily on the head as I took the cock deeper into my mouth. I bobbed my lips up and down it as my hands held the base of the shaft.

"Take your hands away, slut," he ordered.

Mindlessly, I obeyed, dropping my hands to my sides as he began to thrust into me. He fucked my face, using harder and deeper strokes, holding my head in a tight grip as he sawed his cock back and forth through my open mouth.

He forced my head back, and forced me to bow downwards as he fucked his cock down into my face. Then he thrust hard and my eyes bulged as his cockhead punched right through to my throat.

It filled my throat like a cork in a bottle, and pushed downwards through my neck. I slapped desperately at his thighs and he cursed, twisting my hair and grabbing my left wrist, twisting it up and out. It hurt terribly.

He forced his cock all the way down my throat, and his groin mashed my nose down hard. I couldn't breath, not even the slightest bit, nor could I make even a squeak. His cock completely blocked my throat. I fought down nausea and terror.

He slid his cock back up the length of my neck. My throat felt bloated out and bulging. It ached and throbbed, and as his cock slid back up I had to fight nausea again.

His cockhead popped out into my mouth and I gasped for air, panting and coughing and choking, saliva running over my lower lip as he pulled his cock free of my mouth. He let go of my wrist and held his cock in his hand, then rubbed the fat, purplish red head all over my face, sneering at me as I drew in desperate lungful of air.

He pushed his cock back into my mouth.

"No! No!" I cried, but the words were muffled by his cockhead.

He forced my head back again, then thrust his cock down my throat once more. Again I felt nausea and fear, but it was less than the first time, and when his cock hit bottom much of the nausea disappeared.

He began to pump his cock up and down, just like he was fucking, and he was, I guess. He was fucking my throat. My throat ached, and my mind spun, but I was helpless, physically and mentally. He fucked steadily for a long minute, until my head was pounding and hot and I was starting to get light headed from lack of air.

Then he pulled his cock out again and let me breath as he rubbed the saliva coated prick all over my face. He squeezed it in one hand as he continued to grip my hair tightly. He ran his fist up and down the shaft quickly, masturbating.

Then he came, thick, white gobs of semen shooting out and landing on my lips, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose and eyelids. It poured out, spattering my face again and again as he held me there. Then he rubbed his cockhead over my face, smearing the semen around.

He rubbed it in my hair then, pulling my soft blonde tresses up around his cock to dry it off.

He flung me back and I landed awkwardly, still gasping for breath.

"Get out of my office, slut," he said, his voice cold.




TWO

I spent the remainder of the day in a haze. I don't remember where I went or what I did. I found myself back at my apartment, curled up in a corner of the sofa, staring at the blank screen of the TV.

I got up slowly and stripped off my clothes, tossing them in the garbage, then went into the bathroom and took a long shower. I decided to simply try and put what had happened today and last week out of my mind, to forget about Stone, forget I'd ever met him.

It was the only way I was going to be able to get on with my life.

Over the next few days I mostly succeeded, at least while I was awake. I doped myself on sleeping pills to keep from dreaming. I worked long hours, taking extra shifts, until my supervisor, noticing my red-rimmed eyes and slumped body, ordered me to take a couple of days off.

I went shopping and bought an elegant gold dress. I went to a matinee, then shopped for books, buying a couple of cheap romances. I bought some French fries and walked around downtown, watching the people and traffic and window shopping.

And then, all of a sudden, I found myself at his building. I stood out front for at least half an hour, just looking at it, and then I walked inside. I got on the elevator, my mind turned off. I wasn't thinking. It was like I was on auto-pilot.

I walked down to the end of the hall to his office and went inside. The secretary looked up and smiled. He said something...something about...not expecting me or something. He picked up the phone, then put it down. He got up and smiled again, went to Stone's door.

He opened it and motioned me in. I walked past him and he closed the door behind me.

"Hello, Mellisa," he said.

"Hello," I said.

I began to shake, to tremble.

"Come here," he said.

My heart was in my throat. How had I got here? Why had I come here? I decided to run, to turn and run.

But I didn't. I walked forward, my feet shuffling on the thick rug.

"Take off your clothes," he said.

I blinked my eyes, swallowing repeatedly.

I looked down at myself, and my fingers plucked at the fabric as if unable to remember how to remove it.

I raised my head and looked at him again, and his eyes caught me, held me, like a doe staring into headlights. I couldn't escape, and found myself being pulled out of my body.

I lowered my eyes, my chest rising and falling, my body sweating. I undid the belt around my middle and let it fall, then reached behind me and undid the dress. It slipped over my shoulders and slid down my body to the floor, to pool around my ankles.

I flushed red, my skin burning. I stared at him, then unclipped my bra and removed it. I slid my panties down, kicking off my shoes, then stood up, naked, hands at my sides.

My mind swung in and out of focus, and I trembled again, violently.

"Sit down."

I'm not sure if I heard him or if the idea occurred to me on my own. I sat down; in the same chair I'd sat in last week.

"Lift your legs and put them across the arms of the chair," he said.

I stared at him, then looked down at my legs. I lifted them and pulled them wide, draping them across the arms of the chair, exposing my burning fire pit to his gaze.

"Put your hands on your breasts," he said.

I cupped my full breasts, holding them in my hands, staring at him.

"Squeeze them."

My fingers kneaded and massaged my breasts as I squeezed repeatedly. I felt the heat building up inside me, felt my body thrumming with the power of the sexual forces whirling inside me.

My breasts ached and burned. They had never been so responsive. The pleasure lashed me, the dull, overwhelming throb of my breasts and the sharp, dagger points of my hard little nipples. I squeezed harder and harder, panting and sobbing as I stared at him.

An orgasm blasted through me and I cried out, my back arching, my hands mashing my aching, burning breasts, my entire body jerking and bouncing as the force of the orgasmic release lashed my nervous system.

Partly sated, I brought my eyes down onto his again, feeling a terrible humiliation as the awareness of what had happened, of what I had and was doing began to make itself known.

"Play with yourself," he said.

I stared at him without understanding.

"Masturbate. I want to see you finger-fuck yourself."

"I...I..." My mouth opened and closed repeatedly.

"Do it," he said, his voice cold, irresistible.

I looked down at my body, my sex exposed. I saw the leather between my legs wet from my juices; saw the glistening of my exposed pink sex. I reached down and slid my fingers over my slit, rubbing up and down.

"Look at me," he ordered.

I looked up, my eyes again caught by his. My fingers rubbed steadily against my slit, the heat rapidly rebuilding inside me. I didn't know what I was doing and didn't care. I rubbed faster on my slit.

"Shove your fingers in your cunt," he said.

The words were terrible, but were like fire on my mind. I thrust a finger into my hot, wet, silken depths, and cried out helplessly as the heat rippled through me. I thrust two fingers inside and pumped them in and out as I worked my clitty.

My eyes continued to stare into his. My mouth was gaping and I was panting for breath. I jerked my legs wider, humping against my fingers as I plunged them down into my furnace of a hole again and again and again, grunting and moaning with the heat as it rose and enveloped me.

I came again, my hips jerking up and down, my body twitching and shaking and trembling as my muscles spasmed and jerked in helpless convulsions. My head fell back and bounced and rolled, and then I stiffened, my eyes closing, my back arching as I quivered like a plucked guitar string.

Then I sank back down to earth, my bleary eyes opening, seeing him there.

He was looking at me with contempt, and I went cold down to my soul.

"Get out," he said dismissively.

The words stabbed me with loss and I gaped at him. I couldn't leave like this. I couldn't. He had to...had to...there had to be both of us, two people engaged in...

I couldn't think straight, but somehow I thought, I couldn't just be alone, couldn't have just come up here and done this myself. I needed to have him do something with me, to me, needed him to join me in what had happened.

"Please," I gulped.

He looked down at his desk and picked up a pen.

I stared at him. I got to my feet and looked down. My mouth opened and closed.

I couldn't leave. Not like this.

I moved forward, walking around his desk. He looked up in irritation. I swallowed in fear, then dropped to my knees, pushing his chair out.

"I said get out," he glared.

I reached for his groin, bending forward. He cursed me and gripped my hair, flinging me back on the floor. I landed heavily on my back and sobbed in misery.

"You want a fuck, is that it, slut?"

I was weeping pitifully, covering my face with my hands in my humiliation and despair.

"You want a fuck, slut? You want me to fuck you? Answer me!"

"Please," I mewled.

"Answer me."

"Please...please."

"Do you want a fuck?"

I stared at him, blinking furiously. "Yes," I whispered.

"Louder."

"Yes." The admission cost me everything.

"Come here."

I sat up, and got to my knees in front of him again.

"Beg."

I looked at him in disbelief.

"Beg for it."

"Please...please make love to me."

"You don't want to make love. You want to be fucked. Say it."

"Fuck me," I moaned.

"Beg!"

"Please fuck me," I sobbed.

"Turn around and get on all fours."

I continued to sob, my mind overwrought, paralysed, shaking, dazed. I turned and positioned myself on all fours, waiting for him.

"Raise your ass more and spread your legs," he ordered.

Instantly I obeyed, not caring how degrading or humiliating the position was.

"Reach down between your legs and pull your twat open for me. Show me how wet you are," he said.

I sobbed anew, but obeyed, reaching back between my legs.

"Use both hands."

I fell to my shoulder, shoving both my arms downwards, my hands prying my pussy lips open.

"Wider. Wider."

I pulled my pussy open so wide it ached and burned.

"Beg for it."

"Please fuck me!" I whined. "Please fuck me! Please! Please!"

I was in despair. I had to have him inside me. I thought that I would surely kill myself if he wouldn't do it.

I felt his movement behind me, then gulped down my tears as his hand stroked my buttocks. He knelt behind me and unzipped his fly.

"Please! Oh, please!" I gasped.

He pressed his cock against my slit. I felt it against the backs of my fingers. It slid slowly into me.

"Take your fingers away," he barked.

I pulled my hands away and pushed myself up on all fours again. His cock lay nestled just inside my pussy, my lips closed around the head. I felt a deep, overwhelming sense of need. I was quivering and trembling in anticipation. His cock taunted me where it was. I needed it deep inside my belly.

I tried to push back on it but he slapped my bottom hard and I cried out in pain.

His hands coasted up and down my sides, then over my shoulders. He dug his fingers in, clutching my shoulders tightly, then thrust into me with all his strength. My head shot up and back and I rose off my hands like a rearing stallion.

A massive orgasm tore through me and made me writhe in his grasp. Lightning raced along my spine and fried my brain matter. I was deafened and blinded, my mind blasted to nothing as I became a wild animal, bouncing and shaking and jerking and gurgling in mindless, dazed joy.

I wriggled and tore against his hold, trying to work my pussy over his cock, but he held me tightly until the muscular contractions began to ease. I fell onto my face, my arms splayed out to either side as I jerked fitfully.

His hands shifted up to my hips and he began to fuck me, his cock sliding back and forth with a long, steady stroke, thrusting deep into my spasming, quivering belly as I twitched and moaned dazedly.

The orgasm passed, but not the heat, not the pleasure. I groaned in delight, in sheer, helpless bliss as I felt his cock moving back and forth in my belly.

"Yeeeeesssssss," I groaned. "Yeesssssssssssss."

He pumped harder and harder, his hips slapping loudly against my buttocks now. I tried to push myself up off the carpet but fell again, groaning weakly. I pulled my arms under me and hugged my chest, mashing my fat breasts down against my ribs, rolling them from side to side as his hips pummelled my buttocks.

He reached for my breasts, and cursed. He slapped the side of my head and I moaned in pain. Then he gripped my arms and jerked them out from under me, pinning my wrists together in the small of my back.

He held them there with one hand as his fuck strokes became harder and faster. My bottom was raised high and my sex totally exposed to him. His cock thrust deep into my belly with hard, powerful, brutal strokes.

He gripped my hair behind my head and tore it upwards, forcing my head back. I cried out in pain again, and he laughed, spiking his cock into me with savage power, going into overdrive. My knees ground back and forth on the rug, and my breasts rolled up and down below me as my chest was thrown back and forth by his hard fuck strokes.

I came again, my entire body flopping and jerking and spasming with white hot heat as a cataclysmic roar of deep, soul wrenching sexual ecstasy swamped my senses. My mind was tossed and turned like a bottle in an ocean storm and all my awareness vanished, leaving a husk of a body that responded only to the pleasure or pain inflicted on it.

I came to myself slowly, ever so slowly, awareness returning bit by bit. With it, the terrible trauma of my muddled stunned mind. I was still on the floor, still on my knees. I hadn't moved a bit, and his cock was still driving into me with unrelenting power and speed.

I had one clear thought. What was I doing? Why?

Then I came again, crying out in pleasure as the orgasm tore deep into my vitals and twisted them into a churning sexual stew.

I came again...and again...and again...snapping off a series of orgasms that tore the breath from my body. Each was more powerful than the one before, and I screamed mentally, sure I was dying, sure I couldn't not survive the terrible pressure in my skull.

The pressure grew and grew as the pleasure mounted. My nerve endings danced and snapped and burnt out under the blast fire of orgasmic pleasure. My brain felt like it was swelling and expanding, pressing against my skull.

And then my vision blurred and disappeared entirely as I lost consciousness.

I carried on with life, going back to work, meeting friends for lunch, even dating, but a part of my heart and mind and soul was locked away somewhere in Jonathan Stone's possession. I thought of him constantly. It was neither love nor lust. Somehow I just felt myself drawn to him.

Two days after I'd visited his office a package arrived for me at my home. It was a dress, deep blue, low cut, shimmering in the light. It was a designer dress. I stared at it, amazed, then felt a stab of heat in my groin as I realized who must have sent it.

I stripped and pulled on the dress, then posed in the mirror, imagining myself on his arm.

The next evening a gold trimmed card arrived by messenger, inviting me to a charity ball. Hand written on the card were the words "be ready at seven."

At seven the next evening I was wearing the dress. Underneath all I wore was a G-string. It was too low cut for a bra and since it was ankle length, stockings would be irrelevant. I was breathless with anticipation, and the minutes ran down like hours.

He arrived at precisely seven. My breath caught as I opened the door and saw him standing there in a tuxedo. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. He put out his arm and I took it, and he led me down the hall to the elevator.

He led me in, then whirled me around. I stared up at him, my eyes widening. He shoved me down onto my knees and undid his pants, then pulled out his cock. He rubbed the head back and forth over my face, then shoved it into my mouth.

I sucked hungrily, sliding my tongue rapidly across the underside of his cockhead. He ran his fingers through my hair as I bobbed my lips on his cock.

He pressed every button on the panel, and the elevator kept stopping, the door opening. Each time it did my heart gave a lurch and I wondered if someone would be standing there and would see me like this.

I sucked hard, my lips sliding up and down his cock, then he tilted my head back and I took a deep breath. His cock thrust down my throat and pumped up and down inside as I tried to lick at the base.

He pulled it out after half a minute and rubbed it hard against my face. Then he came, his juice shooting out over my carefully made-up face. As before, he rubbed his cock over my face, smearing the sperm around in an even layer.

He jerked me to my feet then as the doors opened on the first floor, and pulled me out. I was a little dazed and rubbed at my face.

"Leave it there," he said. "I went your face coated in my cum when I introduce you."

He brought me out to a limousine where a chauffeur was waiting, holding the door. I got in and then Jonathan came in behind me. The chauffeur closed the door and then went around and got in front.

Jonathan pressed a button and a window slid up from the seat in front of us. It was clear but soundproof. I swallowed nervously, feeling closed in with him and worried about what he might do, worried about the chauffeur seeing.

"You look nice in that dress," he said.

"Thank you," I replied.

"How do you feel?"

"Okay," I said, a little confused at the question.

"Do you feel hot?"

"H...hot?" I gulped.

"Sexy?"

"Yes," I breathed.

"Is your pussy tingling?"

I swallowed.

He put his hand on my stomach and stroked it in a circular motion. I stared at the back of the driver's head, and at the mirror to see if he was watching.

"I bet you're wet. Are you wet?" he asked softly. "Are your breasts getting warm? Are your nipples stiffening?"
He slid his hand up and cupped my left breast, squeezing lightly, then ran his flat hand over the exposed cleavage. He put his mouth close to my ear and spoke softly. "When we leave the party, I'm going to tie you spread-eagled to the bed and fuck you unconscious."

He took his hand off and looked away, but my heart continued to pound frantically for long minutes. I felt my groin quivering and throbbing with heat and need, the very thought of being bound helpless beneath him making my pussy moist and heavy.

We arrived at the building and a doorman opened the car door. Jonathan stepped out, then reached in and took my hand and pulled me out, being very gentlemanly. He led me in through the doors and into a large, crowded hall.

It was a very moneyed gathering, all rich and beautiful people who kept their noses firmly tilted upwards. I was kind of nervous around them, being kind of out of my class. I mean, my parents were well off, but not wealthy like Jonathan and his friends.

"Jon, I see you made it," a grey haired man said.

"Hello, Max. How are you?"

"Fine, fine. And who's this?"

"This is Mellisa. Beautiful, isn't she?"

"Very much so. Good evening, Mellisa."

"Hello," I said, slightly embarrassed.

"And how did you meet Jon?" Max asked.

"She walked into my office last week, stripped off all her clothes and masturbated in front of me," Jonathan said.

I stared at him in shock, face turning beet red. Max laughed, obviously thinking it was a joke, if in poor taste. He patted Jonathan on the shoulder and moved on.

"How could you say that?" I gasped.

"It's true, isn't it?"

"You can't tell people!"

"I can do anything I want," he said, glaring at me. "Maybe I should tell them you've got cum all over your face, or just bend you over and fuck you right here."

"But..."

"Shut up and do what you're told."

His fingers tightened on my arm and I winced in pain. He pulled me along and moved over to another part of the room.

He led me around the room, stopping to talk to people. I was tense the whole time, worrying that he would say something to them that would humiliate me. Because of that I probably drank too much too fast, and I like to think that was; at least in part responsible for my behaviour later.

We had been there for almost two hours, and I was still keyed up, though not as much since I'd had more than a few glasses of champagne. Jon led me down a hall and into a kind of lounge. It was empty and dark, or almost empty, and almost dark.

A large streetlight was burning right outside a window, and that threw yellow light and shadows across the room. There was a couch under the window and two people were sitting there. It was obvious they had been making out.

"Hello, Paul," Jon said.

"Jon," the man there said.

I couldn't see him very clearly because the light was behind him. The woman with him was short and blonde, her hair hanging down past her shoulders.

Jon's hand was on my hip, but slid down onto my bottom, squeezing it. I swallowed nervously.

"Who's that you're with?" Jon asked. He reached out and turned on a light, and the two sitting under the window blinked their eyes at the sudden brightness.

I could see now that Paul was a thirtiesh man, tall and thin. The woman with him was young, maybe twenty, with a gorgeous figure tightly held in a designer dress.

"This is Sylvia," Paul said.

"Sylvia," Jon said, rolling the name on his tongue. "Don't I know you, Sylvia?"

"I don't know do you?" she asked coolly.

"You're a professional, aren't you, Sylvia?" Jon smiled.

I wasn't sure what he meant by that at first, then realized he meant she was a prostitute. I gaped at her in surprise, wondering if she'd scream in rage. She didn't. She didn't even seem upset.

"Get lost, Jon, will you?" Paul said.

"Why? Is she paid by the hour?" Jon grinned nastily.

"No. We just don't like your company," Paul answered pleasantly.

"But you're being rude to poor Mellisa here," Jon said. "She's not a pro, are you, Mellisa?"

I shook my head mutely.

"She's an amateur whore, aren't you, baby?"

I frowned at him, still not speaking. I was a little confused, but not as uncomfortable as I would have been if I hadn't been half drunk.

He brought his hand around me and pulled me in tight beside him, then slid his hand over my breast and squeezed it. "See what you can get for free if you just put in a little work?" he said.

I trembled in his grip, face flushing. My breast hurt as he squeezed it roughly, and I felt ashamed, but the heat swirled up within my belly regardless.

"She's very lovely," Paul said. "What is she doing with you?"

"She's even more lovely naked, and she's with me, Paul, because my touch turns her hotter than a blast furnace. Isn't that true, baby?" he smiled, sliding his hand down between my legs.

He jammed his hand in between my legs, forcing the dress inwards and cupped my sex. I gasped and dropped my drink, but he held the back of my head with his other hand as his fingers pressed up into my pussy. He was hurting me but for some reason I didn't even think about resisting, about, I don't know, slapping him or shoving him away.

I stared into his eyes, my brain muddled.

"Look up," he whispered.

I stared at him.

"Look up," he repeated.

I blinked my eyes, then raised my head. Above us were heavy wooden crossbeams.

"You now what I want to do?" he said softly. "I want to rip the curtain cords down, throw them over the beams, tie your wrists together, and hang you from the ceiling naked. Would you like that?"

My mouth opened and closed soundlessly and I gasped as he dug his fingers in even harder, squeezing my pussy in a tight vice. The pain burned into me but I didn't know how to stop it.

He eased up then, stroking his hand up my body and squeezing my breast again.

"What do you think of her?" he said.

"I didn't know who he was talking to. I thought he was talking to me and wondered who he meant. I'd practically forgotten the other two people in the room.

"She must have low standards," Paul said.

"She has no standards," Jon replied.

He left me then and I stumbled, and almost fell. He walked over to the couch the others were sitting on and sat down next to the blonde.

"What do you think, Sylvia?" he asked. "Think Mellisa could become a professional?"

"I wouldn't care to speculate," Sylvia said coolly.

"Maybe if you saw her in action you'd be better able to appreciate her talents," Jon said.

"Mellisa," he said, his voice taking on a tone of command.

"Yes?" I asked in a soft voice.

"Take off your dress."

I blinked in surprise.

"Take off your dress," he said his voice hardening.

I stared at him, my mind fluttering.

"Do it," he growled.

As I said, maybe...maybe it was the booze...maybe.

I pulled one strap down, then, slowly, hesitantly, the other. I looked at him, hoping he would change his mind, but his eyes were hard and cold. I caught my breath and eased the dress down below my breasts, then shoved it down my waist and over my hips. It slid to the floor and I stood there in the G-string.

I was hideously embarrassed, yet...I don't know...there was just something, something so...sexual, so wanton about this. I felt disoriented, hesitant, but...hot.

Standing there in just the G-string, my naked breasts exposed to not only his view but the eyes of two perfect strangers, I felt myself as a truly sexually alive being, as the object and focus of sex and lust and desire.

I felt degraded, yet basked in the degradation, feeling my loins going liquid, my breasts hardening.

"The G-string. Take off the G-string," Jon's voice said, coming from afar.

"What's the point of this, Jon?" Paul demanded.

I slipped my fingers into the G-string and bent over, sliding it down my legs. I stepped out of it and the dress, and stood there naked except for my high heels. I lowered my eyes, looking at the floor, too embarrassed at the two strangers looking at me.

And yet I was even more aroused. I felt a deep sexually yearning. I thought about being hung from my wrists from the beams overhead, and truly, deeply wished that he would do it, that he would do it in front of these strangers. Their presence somehow added to the fire and the shamelessness of what I was doing.

"Jerk off for us, Mellisa," Jon said.

That was too much. Surely...I couldn't. That was just...I mean, for him, alone in his office, but...here... with strangers..."

"Now!" his voice lashed out.

I started and raised my eyes, looking at him despairingly. His eyes bored into me and I felt my will vaporize. I quivered with unbridled lust, and my hands moved almost of their own will to my groin.

The other two were watching me with interest now, and my body was burning hot with shame, but my fingers slowly eased down between my pussy lips and began to rub up and down. They stroked across my clitty and hot burst of fire travelled up my spine at each stroke.

I rubbed faster and harder, sliding two fingers up inside myself as they watched. My breathing was loud, ragged, harsh, and my body quivered and swayed. I felt the heat rolling over me in waves and cringed against it.

My legs turned rubbery and weak and I slid down to my knees, then half bent forward. I was pumping two fingers in my pussy tunnel as I stroked two more up and down across my clitty. I sat back on my heels, whimpering helplessly.

My knees spread wider and wider and I wallowed in my shame and degradation. I sat back, then lay back on my back, my legs parted wide, my knees pulled tightly back, spread wide. I groaned and writhed on the floor, my thighs aching as gravity pulled my knees further and further apart.

I felt an orgasm blossom within my lower belly and shuddered violently, my back arching as I grunted furiously and pounded my fingers down into my gash. I closed my eye and flew through the air, through the stratosphere.

The orgasm rocked me to the very bottom of my soul. It tore my nervous system to shreds and made every bone, muscle and nerve in my body shake and twist and burn.

Then my fingers slowed and finally halted as my hands fell away. I lay there on the floor for long seconds before I opened my eyes. The three of them were looking down at me.

Paul seemed aroused. Sylvia... amused, maybe a little contemptuous. Jon had no expression on his face.

Paul and Sylvia rose then and walked past me, leaving the room.

"Get your clothes on, slut," Jon said.




THREE

I don't remember even getting dressed, though I suppose I must have. Jon led me back to the main party, then out to the car. He didn't speak to me. Or at least if he did I don't remember it.

I was cringing inwardly at what I had done, shocked by my behaviour. I couldn't believe I would do something so demeaning, so vulgar in front of strangers. I didn't understand why I had done it or why it had excited me so much.
And it had excited me.

Even as shameful and humiliated as I felt, I could still remember the lust that had gripped me as those people had watched me masturbate. And the thought of it continued to make me hot and tingly.

We stopped and the chauffeur opened the door. Jon led me into a building past a doorman and into an elevator. We rode up a long ways, though I wasn't counting, then stopped and got off. It was his apartment, I figured, and remembered what he'd said about tying me to a bed.

I shuddered and felt the heat rising in my belly, felt my breasts hardening again and my nipples pushing through the fabric of the dress. We stopped by a large double door and I squeezed my thighs together, my body throbbing with lust and desire.

He opened the door and pulled me roughly inside. I didn't even notice the furnishings as he led me through the front and down a narrow hall. He pulled me into a room and shoved me forward. I staggered and almost fell.

"Get your clothes off," he said briskly, moving to a cabinet.

I pulled the straps off and jerked the dress down. I didn't have the G-string, and wondered if I'd left it back at the party. I didn't care, though. I unstrapped my shoes and took them off, then even removed my watch and earrings, wanting to be utterly, completely naked.

He removed his tuxedo and shoes, and stood before me naked, his cock sticking out hungrily.

"You were a bad girl tonight, weren't you, Mellisa," he said.

"Yes," I whispered.

"A very bad girl, jerking off in front of people like that. What do you suppose they thought of you?"

"I don't know," I said.

"Probably that you were a filthy slut. Do you think that's what they thought?"

"Yes," I whimpered.

"You are a dirty slut, aren't you, Mellisa."

"Yes," I panted.

"Say it."

"I'm...I'm a dirty slut," I whimpered.

"And you need to be punished, don't you."

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I need to be punished. I'm a dirty slut and I need to be punished," I gasped, quivering with lust.

"Give me your hands."

I put out my hands and he pressed them together, then produced a thick cord. He wrapped it once around my wrists and tied it tightly, binding them flat together. Then he very carefully wrapped the cord around and around my wrists, laying each new loop precisely alongside the last.

After he'd wrapped maybe ten loops around my wrists the pulled the rope between my wrists, forcing it around the loops that encircled my wrists. It kind of pinched my skin, and tightened the loops a lot, kind of pinching them inwards so that it was like each wrist was wrapped separately.

He pulled me across the room then and bent me over a writing table.

"Are you a bad girl?" he asked.

"Yes," I moaned.

He thrust a thick dildo into my pussy, pumping it in and out, holding it in such a way so that his fingers at the bottom rode across my clitoris each time he drove it into me. I began to grunt in pleasure, and he pulled it free, then pressed it against my anus. I groaned now, my legs shifting apart as he slowly worked it into my rectum. Then I heard the buzzing of a vibrator and felt one sliding slowly up and down my slit.

My bottom jerked up and I shuddered at the intensity of the sensations as it rode across my clitoris, feeling my lower body shake and tremble with heat and need. He pressed it against my hole and thrust it into me, and I closed my eyes at the penetration, loving it. It was fat, and forced my sex lips to spread wide around it. I felt their resistance as he pushed it deep, jamming his fingers against the base so it almost disappeared inside me.

He walked back to the cabinet and came over to me, carrying a thin wooden cane of some sort. It was flexible, because he was bending it this way and that as he held it in his hands.

"Do you need to be punished?"

"Yes. I'm a bad girl," I moaned, my pussy burning. “I'm a slut and I need to be punished."

I heard a hiss, like something cutting through the air, then something hit my buttocks. The blow didn't seem to be too hard, but an instant later a terrible lancing pain blasted into me. I screamed in pain, and jerked up.

"Lay down!" he snarled, shoving me hard.

I sobbed and choked, my buttocks burning with pain then lay down across the table. I braced myself and then cried out again as the cane slashed down across my bottom. I trembled and wept as my buttocks burned with the sharp, sharp pain. Yet even with the pain the pleasure soared and I felt myself torn apart between the two sensations.

"Are you a bad girl?" he demanded.

"Yee...yee...yeesssss," I gasped.

The cane lashed down on my bottom again and I burst into tears. I cracked down again and again and again and again and I sobbed piteously as my skin was engulfed in a cloud of burning heat. Yet the heat inside me continued to grow, as well, grow into a feverish need.

He gripped my thigh and jerked my leg to one side, pulling me over the corner of the table, so it was between my legs.

The cane slashed down on my bottom again and again and again and I jerked and trembled and shook under the impact. My sex lips were right over the corner and ground into it, and as soon as I sensed that I started to grind myself down deliberately.

The heat roared up into my skull and detonated. The orgasm ripped through my body, going on and on and on. Each time the cane slashed down, the fresh pain raced along my nervous system and seemed to force the pleasure up higher and higher.

The pain and pleasure were indistinguishable, and each blow made me cry out in shocked ecstasy even as the pain tore into my buttocks. My body was sweating with the heat and my breasts were rolling against the wood beneath me, crushed down by my ribs. Each blow made me jerk forward, grinding over my breasts. The burned with heat as they were mashed and crushed against the hard wood.

I was in a state of sexual delirium, where every sensation built up my heat higher. Jon continued to lash my ass, but I wasn't sobbing any more. I was grunting and gurgling and moaning, my mind spinning and tumbling under the onslaught of sensory overload.

I cried out as he gripped the hair behind my head and jerked my head up off the table.

"Are you a bad girl?" he yelled.

"I'm a baaaaad giiiiirl," I sobbed.

"Is this why you're a bad girl?" he snarled, lifting my upper body up by the hair, forcing my sex to grind down heavily on the corner of the table, jamming the vibrator painfully up into the back wall of my sex tube. I screamed in pain as he held me there. He had one hand behind my head then and the other under my bottom.

He was holding me so my pussy was right over the table. The table was so high that even though I could get my feet, really just my toes on the floor, it was digging up into my pussy meat with terrible pressure.

He shoved me forward again and dropped me down on the table. He moved back, and then slipped a hook through the ropes binding my wrists. He pulled me back off the table and I slid to my knees, then fell back onto my back on the floor.

He dragged me along the floor and then attached a rope to the hook, and ran it up to a hook that had formerly held a heavy planter. I was groaning weakly, hardly able to see what was going on. I felt the pressure lifting my arms upwards, then lifting my body after it.

The ropes dug into my wrists painfully and I whimpered and got my feet under me, trying to push myself up to ease the pressure. The rope pulled me up to my feet and then stopped. The pressure was still great because I couldn't support my own weight.

As the haziness eased up I was able to stand on my own, and the pressure, the pain of the cords digging into my wrists eased. My body was stretched out tight, my arms straight up above me, my legs perfectly straight, knees locked. I had to stand on the balls of my feet too, and that started to get very tiring.

I looked up and saw my wrists bound, tied to the hook. I groaned weakly, excitedly. The fire rose within me, coming from I don't know where. It was like at the party, masturbating in front of those people. What was happening was shocking, perverted. The air was charged with sex, raw, carnal lust.

Jon moved in front of me and slid his hands over my body.

"Are you a bad girl?" he whispered.

"I'm...I'm a bad g...girl," I panted.

"Are you a cheap slut?"

I moaned, squeezing my pussy muscles around the vibrator, feeling the hard thickness of the dildo in my rectum.

"I'm a cheap slut. I'm a wh...whore," I groaned.

He went to the cupboard and I trembled, my heart leaping as I saw the whip. It had a long handle and a number of long, thin leather strips, almost like laces. He moved behind me and my chest began to rise and fall faster and faster as I started to hyperventilate.

"Bad girls need to be punished," he growled.

He swung his arm and I screamed even before the whip struck. Then the leather sliced into my soft back, thin strips spread out so that it felt like a rain of bee stings. I cried out again, jerking and twisting, almost pulled off my feet as I twisted against the pain.

He drew his arm back and then swung again, and the laces slashed across my back again, tearing into me like cat claws, so that I hissed at the sharp burning across the centre of my back.

Yet inside I was burning, flaring with wildfire heat. I was being whipped! The very idea shocked me, appalled me, excited and transfixed me. The whip cut across my back again and I could not repress a cry of pain, my back arching as my upper body flinched violently from the pain.

Another blow had my body twisting about, and I left my feet momentarily, twisting on the end of the rope, hanging by my wrists. He swung the whip once more and it cut sideways across my belly, shocking me for some reason. The pain was almost more intense, and I cried out again, twisting away from his cruel grin to take the next blow across the small of my back.

I felt his hand slide down between my buttocks, underneath. He gripped the dildo, which had been sliding free, and thrust it up hard, then pumped it rapidly before burying it inside me again.

"Whore," he whispered into my ear.

He stepped back and the whip cracked across my back, and then again. I was getting used to the pain now, or perhaps the heat of my aching back was now acting to shield me from the sharpness of each new blow. But I was able to stand almost still and simply shake and tremble as the whip cut into my flesh. I moaned, my head falling back as another blow struck me, then another. I felt myself sagging, my knees getting wobbly, and let more and more weight hang from my wrists.

Then he was behind me. He jerked my hair back and I moaned in pain. His lips came down on mine and our tongues slithered hungrily together. His hand came down on my bottom and squeezed it, then jammed the dildo higher. He drew the vibrator slowly out of me and played the tip up and down my slit, then dropped it and gripped my hips, pulling my bottom back towards him. I felt his cockhead rubbing against my slit, then probing against my moist opening.

I whimpered in anticipation, wanting it inside me, wanting to be filled with him, wanting him to rape me, to use me as I stood here bound tightly and helpless. I spread my legs, even though that took my feet off the ground. I let myself hang from the wrists, gasping in pain as the cord dug into my flesh.

My mind was filled with fiery sexual desire, and as his cock slid into me I felt the onset of another orgasm.
His hands gripped my thighs and he pulled my bottom up and out towards him, thrusting his cock fully into my trembling body. I shuddered violently, my head jerking back, then I came, grunting and moaning and panting for breath, my legs jerking and bouncing in the air as his cock drove into me with violent thrusting motions.
He swung me back and forth at the same time, adding to the force of his deep, driving thrusts, and the pain was oil on the fires of lust within me. I was a mindless, animalistic creature, gurgling in ecstatic bliss, a bitch in heat with a barbed cock in its hole.

And even as the orgasm slowly faded my body remained in a white-hot sexual fever. I pulled my legs together around him, grinding my bottom against him. His hands dug into my thighs, jerking me against him again and again as his mouth raced over my throat, and shoulders, chewing, biting hard, licking and sucking.

My clitty burned as my sex rode back and forth across his long, thick cock. I felt the joy of being truly used by a powerful man.

Then he pulled out, jerking my legs away and letting me fall back. I swung from side to side and twisted around in circles until I finally brought my toes down on the floor to hold myself in position. He sneered at me, and I squirmed in need.

"Fuck me," I gasped. "Pleease."

But it wasn't begging he wanted, not this time, not exactly.

"You want it, slut?" He pumped his hand along his thick shaft.

"Yes," I gasped.

"I bet you'd fuck a doorknob right about now, wouldn't you?"

"Please," I moaned, squeezing my thighs together, rubbing them desperately.

He walked away, leaving me like that. I looked after him desperately, willing him to reappear, terrified he wouldn't, that he would torture me by forcing me to old this blazing sexual need within me.

I bent my knees, letting all my weight fall on the ropes again, swinging slowly as I squeezed and rubbed my thighs together. I wished that he had let me hang fully, that he would raise the rope so I could let my legs fall straight and not touch the floor at all.

He returned, holding a bottle of beer. He took a swig and sat down, eyeing me with amusement. I stared at him despairingly.

"Hot little slut," he said. "Really need it don't you?"

"Please," I panted.

He stood up and walked over to me, then took another swig from the bottle. He suddenly spat the beer into my face. I coughed and blinked my eyes at him. He snorted and took another swig.

"You want it, baby? Show me your pussy."

I spread my legs for him, my chest heaving. He slid his hand in between my thighs and rubbed my dripping pussy and I groaned in pleasure.

He thrust a finger into me, pumping it in and out, then took it out and lowered the beer bottle. He shoved the long necked bottle into my pussy and pumped it in and out, snickering in amusement. He shoved it deep, until the widening of the bottle spread my sex lips painfully wide.

"Fuck that, baby. You'll fuck about anything won't you?"

He pulled the bottle in and out, then removed it completely. He set it down, then reached behind him and pulled out a banana. His eyes went wide and he gave me an idiotic grin. "Look what daddy's got for his little monkey?" he taunted. "It's a banana!"

He rubbed the banana over my breasts, sliding it down slowly over my belly and in between my legs. He sawed it along my pussy lips, then slowly worked it up inside me.

"Fuck this, slut. Get yourself off on the banana," he sniggered, pumping it slowly up and down in my hot, dripping pussy. I humped desperately against it, panting and moaning and grunting with the effort as I tried to take it deeper inside me.

I came, grunting like a hog, my head going back and bouncing behind me as I got off on the banana, squeezing my pussy muscles down on it and glorying in the deep, thick penetration, and on the degradation of what I was doing, of his sneering contempt.

He moved to a cabinet and took out a long, dangerous looking knife, then returned to me. I was just starting to come down from my orgasm and didn't care what he held in his hands at that particular moment. I just hung there, groaning in relief, head down.

He jerked my head up by the hair, making my yelp in pain, then my bleary eyes focussed on the knife as he held it before me. He slid the flat of the blade across my face very lightly, then jerked it lower and I felt the sharp blade against my throat.

"Want me to?" he asked, his eyes boring into me. "Think I should? Think anyone would care about a two bit whore like you?"

He slid the sharp edge back and forth very lightly, as though sawing at my neck, then he eased it lower, down onto my right breast. He pointed the sharp tip at my nipple and pressed it in. I felt a sharp pain and swallowed anxiously.

He pinched my nipple between thumb and forefinger, pulling it outwards. He placed the sharp edge of the blade against it threateningly, then laughed and let go. He jerked the blade upwards and sawed rapidly through the cords between my wrists. The parted and I fell heavily to the ground.

"Get into the bed and spread your arms and legs, whore," he said.

Panting for breath I got to my knees and crawled to the bed, then pulled myself onto it and rolled onto my back, groaning weakly. I looked at my wrists bruised and burned and cut from the tightness of the ropes, then lay them up above my head, reaching towards the corner posts.

He got on the bed with me and straddled my chest, and I grunted as his weight came down on me. His hands ran up and down my arms as he stared down at me, then slid up higher, up past my hands to the corner posts. He pulled what looked like hospital straps down from the corners.

They were already in loops and he had merely to slide my hands through the loops, then tug them tight. He reached up and pulled on something there, which jerked the straps tight, cutting the slack from them.

He slid off me and went to the foot of the bed, taking out matching straps and looping them around my ankles. Again, a sharp tug jerked them tight and my legs were pinned wide open, just like my arms. I was utterly helpless before him.

He smiled, then went to the cabinet and took out a sort of round leather ball with strings, and what looked like a leather belt of some kind. It was hard studded leather with buckles. He straddled my chest again, then took the round leather ball thing and shoved it into my mouth. It practically filled my mouth, though some of it stuck out, keeping my lips open. I felt the black strings, or laces going around my head to hold it there tightly.

Next, he lifted up the leather belt thing slid it around my head. It buckled together over my eyes, pulling in tight, tight, so my head ached, blinding me.

I pulled relentlessly at the straps, arching my back, working the muscles along my arms and legs. I needed the constant sensation of being bound and helpless. I could see nothing.

I felt something brush against my upper arm, then slid along my chest above my breasts. It was light as a feather, and then I realized it was a feather, a big one. It slowly circled my breasts, drifting lightly back and forth over my nipples, making them tingle and ache.

I slid down my belly, then up my side to tickle under my arm. I jerked and shook helplessly, crying out in an agony of laughter, the sound going no further than the big ball gag in my mouth.

He worked the feather up and down my sides, tickling me until my eyes were drowned in tears and the blindfold thing was soaked on the inside. He worked the feather back over my nipples then, stroking them repeatedly, making me yearn for a hard sucking and biting mouth.

The feather coasted down between my splayed legs and slid up and down along my slit, then his fingers opened me and the feather teased my pink pussy meat, flicking back and forth over my clitty.
I was incredibly aroused, and would have begged him to fuck me, would have begged anyone to fuck me, if I could have spoken. I was getting these light, taunting touches when I wanted him to pile drive me like he had before in his office.

The feather disappeared and I felt his weight leave the bed. I lay there in helpless anticipation, wondering what was next, in an agony of lust and sexual excitement.

I felt him on the bed again, then felt him grip my pussy hair and tug it up sharply. There was a snipping sound, scissors, I realized.

He was cutting my pussy hair!

I moaned into the gag, unable to do or say anything as he methodically tugged and cut at my golden pussy hair. He cut it all very short, so he had to cut right along my skin. Then I felt him rubbing something warm and wet against my groin. I recognized shaving lotion.

Then the razor, shaving carefully, first back and forth above my slit, then up and down, his fingers testing, searching for the slightest stray hair. Then down along my slit on either side, down along my inner thighs.
I had a very carefully maintained bush...the high cut bathing suits these days demanded them, so there really wasn't any hair down there that wasn't within an inch or two of my slit.

I felt a towel rubbing against my groin, drying it, rubbing off the cream. Then it went away and I felt so...bare. I felt cold air on my pussy slit, then his hand over it. I marvelled at how smooth and soft it was as his hand moved over me.

I should have been outraged. I wasn't. I was too caught up in the raw, carnal sex-heat. I think if he'd brought a dog in right then I would have let it fuck me gladly. And just thinking of that made me almost cum. The sheer outrageous perversion making my head spin.

I felt his finger on my clitty then, my raw, puffed out little button. He rubbed his finger back and forth, back and forth, stroking me, masturbating me. I mewled in pleasure, then came, writhing against the bonds holding me, groaning, then, with the realization that I was gagged, yelling, and screaming my pleasure into the gag.

His weight shifted, left the bed, and I lay there groaning in pleasure, wondering what I was becoming, but not really caring. The pleasure was too intense. I had never had orgasms this powerful, or for that matter, so many of them. I had never thought myself capable of that.

I smelled something, but it took me a moment to identify it as smoke, perhaps from a... I gasped in shock as something hit my right nipple. It burned and I yelled and writhed helplessly. The burning faded quickly, leaving a feeling of hardness behind. Again I felt something hit my nipple, again there was a sharp but rapidly fading sensation of heat.

I heard his snicker.

I knew it was wax from a candle. As a girl I'd tipped some on my finger, dribbling the wax and watching with fascination as a hardened shell formed around my finger. This felt exactly like that, but it was on my nipple, and my nipple was much more sensitive than my finger had been.

I felt the dribbling wax forming a hard shell over and around my nipple and areola, then he shifted to my other breast, dribbling hot wax onto my nipple there, making me wriggle and groan and pant helplessly as the sharp heat made my nipple ache.

I felt the dribbles on my belly button then, felt the heat of the liquid wax, felt the tightness as it hardened. Then his fingers pried my pussy open and hot wax dribbled down onto my clit.

I bucked and jerked and thrashed, trying to tear my pussy away, but my movements were too restricted and he held me in place easily as he dribbled hot wax onto my clitoris.

I was a toy, a sexual plaything for him, and he was indulging himself, doing whatever he wanted, as if he owned me.

His fingers rubbed over my clit, breaking off the hardened wax and brushing it away. Then he crushed the wax over my nipples, cracking the hard shells and sweeping it away.

I heard a clicking sound, then a drop of icy liquid dropped onto my nipple. I grunted in shock, the coldness terrible against my overheated body. I felt another drop, then another and moaned in complaint.

Then I felt an icy hard thing on my left breast. An ice cube. I cursed into the gag as he rolled the ice cube all over my overheated breast, then right over my nipple. The cold was so intense it burned and I writhed helplessly trying to escape it.

He rolled the ice cube down my left breast and up onto my right, circling it repeatedly, then rolling back and forth over my nipple. Cold dribbles of water trickled along the sides of my ribs, and down my chest to my belly, and goose bumps rose all over my body.

He slid the ice cube down between my breasts, down onto my belly, letting it zig zag from side to side. I felt it sliding down further, down between my legs, down over my bare, bald little slit. It rubbed up and down along my slit, then his fingers forced my pussy lips open and he rubbed the thing over my pink pussy meat.

It was too cold...too...cold, and I wanted it to go away, wanted him to stop, but I could do nothing.

He slid the cube into my hole, and his fingers forced it deep. I felt it inside me, icy cold, hard, melting, but not fast enough. I felt another ice cube against my pussy lips, and felt his fingers forcing it inside. Then another, then another, then another. I felt cube after cube pushed into my tight, hot little box, and felt my insides twisting from the terrible cold as they filled me up.

The cold sank into my bones and sinews and I shivered uncontrollably. My whole lower belly felt like a freezer as more and more cubes pushed up into my hole. He shoved so many into me that they pushed all the way to the bottom of my pussy tunnel, and then as more were shoved in, forced my pussy sleeve to bloat out tightly, like a sock packed with rocks.

He kept shoving them into me, and my pussy ached with the cold and the fullness. My belly was getting numb, frozen from the cold, and I felt a terrible heaviness down there.

I felt another ice cube against my left nipple, and I cursed him furiously, straining at the bonds holding me helpless. He held ice cubes against both nipples as the mass of them in my pussy melted slowly and made me shiver and tremble.

I felt the cube leave my left nipple, then a sharp biting pain, gone almost as soon as it occurred. The cube left my other nipple and I felt the same pain, like a sharp pinch. There was something else too...but I couldn't identify it because my nipples were half frozen, numbed with cold.

Anyway, most of my attention was on the thick mass of ice cubes in my sex box.

I felt his fingers digging at my pussy lips, which were held open by the packed cubes. He pried at the ice cubes at the front and pulled slowly, twisting. I felt the whole mass of ice sliding, twisting. They had all melted together, and as he pulled at the ones in front, the deeper ones slid up with them.

They had melted into the shape of my sex tube, and he started pumping the long... Popsicle dildo, or whatever it was, up and down in my numbed, frozen pussy. He slid the whole mass out again and I groaned weakly.

I had, of course, some knowledge of anatomy, and the faint thought flitted across my mind that having my belly packed with ice could be extremely dangerous. I began to run through the possibilities in my mind, even as I continued to shake and tremble and shiver.

But then he removed the blindfold thing and I blinked my eyes up at him.

"Like them?" he grinned. "Twenty-four carat gold."

I didn't know what he meant, but he reached down and fingered my left nipple. I followed his fingers and my eyes widened in shock.

He held up the ring, a round gold ring about the size of a quarter. It was right through my nipple. I saw a similar one through my other nipple. He had pierced my nipples and put rings in them.

Oh my God, I thought. I stared at them, unable to tear my gaze from them. He pulled one up, pulling my nipple with it, then let it drop.

I let my head fall back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in wonderment, wondering what I would be like when this night ended.







FOUR

When I was younger, a teenager, my mother used to lecture me on the things expected of a McBride girl. Above all was that I retain my dignity, that I never degrade myself. She was speaking generally, but I knew she really meant sex, that I should never let some guy use me, never let him do "nasty" things to me, things I would be ashamed of.

I never had, until now. I wondered what she would think if she knew what I was doing now, if she could have witnessed what I had done over the past weeks, what I had allowed him to do to me, what I was doing now.

She would be horrified, so would my father. For that matter so would my friends and colleagues.

But I didn't really care, not right then. As I lay there and watched him fingering the rings through my nipples all I could think about was that I wanted him to fuck me while he tugged on the rings. He put the blindfold back on, then slid fully atop me.

I felt his lips on my throat, felt him nibbling and chewing and biting at my flesh. His hands squeezed and kneaded my breasts. He tugged and twisted at the rings, pulling and pinching my nipples, then slid his mouth over my right nipple and started to suck on it.

His hand moved up and down my body, squeezing and caressing it, then he eased downwards, his tongue sliding along my stomach, then down between my legs. He slid his tongue up and down my slit, then pried my pussy open and began to lick and suck at my pink flesh.

His tongue pushed into my pussy tunnel, darting in and out, then slid upwards over my clit. He began to suck and nibble at my clitoris as his fingers slid down into my pussy tunnel. I still felt cold inside, but I was starting to heat up.

It was all so bizarre. I was tired and worn and weary, and lay there helplessly as his tongue and lips worked my clitty up into a buzzing, crackling steamy button of hot, terrible desire. My pussy started burning, my entire body heated up, and I started to quiver and shake in sexual need.

From the moment his cock began sliding into me I felt its movements with an intensity I never could have imagined. The pleasure as it pumped steadily in my belly was just short of an orgasm, yet continuous, going on and on and on as he fucked down into me.

The heat radiated upwards from my body and I groaned in blissful, wondrous pleasure that never seemed to end.
I came, the pleasure only cranking up a notch or two, then sinking down a notch or two. I came again, rising up, then sinking down. The wonderful, all encompassing pleasure held me in its grip and I could have wept with the joy of it.

I came again and again and again, the comes rolling over me in waves, one after another, making me tremble and shake and writhe helplessly, and all the while his cock pounded down into my gash.

My head ached. My body ached. My chest burned. I came again and again, and then finally his cock went into overdrive, thrusting into me with savage force as his cum poured down into me, a white wave of salty milk that filled my womb with its shimmering heat.

I moved into his place the next day, leaving my furniture behind, possibly to sell later. I wasn't planning far into the future or anything. I was on a wild ride, and for better or for worse I was going to continue it, no matter what anyone might think.

When he had lunch with me and my friend Carol, he was as polite and considerate as could be. He gave little sign, no sign; of the things he did to me in the privacy of his...of our apartment. He complimented me. He held doors for me, and chairs. He asked me my opinion and acted as if he cared, as if he respected it.

I came to believe that it wasn't that he didn't like me or respect me. It was only during sex, or when he was thinking about sex, that he had this desire to dominate me, to demean and degrade me. He got the same pleasure from it I did, and probably didn't understand why any more than I did.

He bought me things, jewellery, lingerie, dresses and shoes and hats and pretty china figurines. He brought me a teddy bear one night, and three dozen roses another. He hugged me sometimes and kissed me on the neck when I was making dinner. We could sit comfortably together on the couch watching TV. We told each other about our work days, the problems, the high and low points.

We were, in other words, like any other couple. We enjoyed some of the same things, but not all, and I think we shared a deep affection, though I'm not sure it could have honestly be called love.

But the sex we had was hot and furious. Brutal. He used me, used me hard, hurt me, humiliated me. The things we did would probably be called sick by a lot... by most people, but the sexual heights we climbed were unreachable by that crowd.

How many women had multiple orgasms every night?

He was sexually insatiable, and was turning me into a slut with no inhibitions. Things that would have shocked and revolted me only weeks earlier now excited and aroused me.

I had, for example, never even seriously considered anal sex before. Oh, I'd heard of it, but nobody had ever proposed I do it, and if they would I would have refused, angrily refused. Jon didn't ask me. He just did it.

I had gone to our bedroom and undressed for bed. I always slept naked, because Jon wanted it that way. I had just come out of the bathroom after brushing my teeth when he came into the room.

"Lay down on the bed on your belly."

I obeyed. I always obeyed when it came to sex. Right away I started to feel the heat between my legs as he walked up behind me. I crawled onto the bed and lay down.

Jon knelt on the edge of the bed and took my hand, jerking it up towards the corner post. He pulled the strap out from the post and slipped the loop around my wrist, then cinched it tight.

He moved around to the other side of the bed and took my other hand, lifting it towards the other head post. Again he pulled a strap down and slipped my hand through a loop, then pulled it tight.

He moved to the foot of the bed and took my foot, pulling it towards one of the bottom posts. He pulled it tight, slipping the loop over my ankle and tightening it.

He methodically moved to the other corner of the post, pulled my other foot towards it and slipped another strap around it.

I didn't ask why. I was breathing heavily, excited at being tied down, but anxiously wondering what he was going to do, whether it would hurt.

He unbuckled his belt, then dropped his pants to the floor and stepped out of them. I tugged repeatedly at the straps, wanting, needing the constant reassurance of my helplessness, of the tight binding of my limbs.

My arms and legs were spread wide and I was completely at his mercy. I wondered if he was going to spank me, use the cane on me, but he didn't seem to take anything with him as he got onto the bed. I turned and tried to look behind me, but could not guess his intentions.
And then I did.

I knew for certain what he had planned. I felt a shock of denial and fear and revulsion, but it was quickly submerged in a massive, quaking lust. He was going to sodomize me. I knew that was it, and I knew there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop him.

His hands stroked my buttocks, caressing the tight, stretched flesh, then sliding down between my thighs to cup and fondle my pussy.

"Tell me you want it," he said.
"I...want it," I gasped.
"Where? Where do you want it?"
"I...in my ass," I gulped.
"Where?"
"In my ass," I moaned.
"Beg for it." His finger sawed up and down my pussy slit, riding across my clitty. I groaned and humped up, or tried to.
"Please fuck me in the ass," I groaned. "Pleeeease."
"You want it up the asshole, you dirty slut?"
"Yeessss," I whimpered.
"You want me to fuck you in the ass?"
"Please fuck me in the ass," I whined.
"Dirty whore."

He slapped my bottom and I yelped in pain, then I felt his finger probing my little wrinkled hole. He screwed it into me and I felt my sphincter squeezing down around it. He slapped my bottom again and I yelped, and he thrust his finger into me.

He screwed it in to the knuckle and twisted it around inside me, pushing it in different directions. He curled it upwards and pulled up, making my bottom rise up.

"Slut," he said.

I turned and watched, breathing hard. I saw a small jar there, saw him scoop out a wad of something. He pressed his finger into my anus again and I felt something oily, a jelly of some kind. He screwed his finger down into my anus and pumped it in and out, then added a second.

"You know, all you bitches walk around in tight pants, showing off your round little asses," he said.

He cracked his hand down on my buttocks and I yelped in pain.

"All of you need a good hard cock up the asshole to show you what these asses are made for."

Again he slapped his hand down hard. I cried out in pain.

He pumped his fingers up and down in my anus, slapping my bottom occasionally.

"Every one of you sluts should be bent over and butt-fucked ten times a day," he growled. "That'd show you what you were made for.

CRACK! His hand slapped down on my bottom and I cried out in pain.

"Smart little doctor, aren't you?" he growled. "College girl, brainy and tough."

CRACK!

"But bend you over and stick a cock up your ass, and see you scream."

CRACK!

"I'm gonna ream out your asshole until the sperm leaks out your ears," he hissed.

CRACK!

I was on the verge of coming. I could hardly breathe as I listened in a trance to his harsh, obscene words.

CRACK!

"Ready, slut? Ready?"

"Yeeeeeessss," I sobbed.

"Want it? Want to be ass fucked?"

"Yessss!" I cried, sobbing in need.

I felt his cockhead pressing against my opening as his fingers withdrew. I stared in shock at the bed below me, all my senses focussed on my anus as his cockhead forced its way into me. Never would I have imagined I would beg to be sodomized, now I wanted it more than anything, wanted to be fucked in the ass...hard.

His cock slid into me, inch after inch after inch. He halted, backed up, pressed forward, twisted from side to side. Slowly he worked it deep into my rectum, until I felt a kind of cramping deep in my belly from the deep penetration and felt his balls pressing flat against my buttocks.

"Ahhhh," he groaned.
"Oohhhhh," I gasped.
"You got it, slut. You got an ass full of cock meat! How does it feel?"
"Oh God!" I gasped. "Oh!"

He ground his groin into my bottom. I felt his curly pubic hairs mashing against the soft undersides of my buttocks as his cock twisted and turned inside my rectum. It felt very...I don't know, full up there, his hard, thick cock making my anal tube bulge out.

His breath was in my ear, and then he began to chew and growl, his left hand jerked my head back by the hair as his right slid roughly up and down my side, groping at my breast. He crushed his lips down so hard on mine I tasted blood as my lip was cut.

He began to thrust against me, pulling his cock up and down in short pumping motions my neck hurt from being twisted around so far, and there was a kind of heavy, rasping ache in my rectum as his cock moved up and down.

I didn't care about the pain, though. I was too high, too aroused. I was being sodomized, fucked in the ass! I was stunned at the very thought, amazed that I was laying here tied hand and foot being ass fucked. My God! The depravity of it was overwhelming, and making my pussy hot and buzzing and quivery with lust.
"You love it up the ass, huh, bitch, dirty slut...you love it. Ungh, ungh, ungh."

He humped harder, his ass rising and falling atop me, moving higher and faster with each stroke, plunging his long, fat cock deep into my back hole, deep into my belly. I felt the fat head thumping against some deep, unreachable part of me, way up in the middle of my gut.

It was a dull, strange, new kind of sensation, one I'd never felt before. His hips were slamming down against me hard, ramming me down into the bed with each hard thrust. His hands were mauling my breast as his lips and tongue slid against my own.

He stopped suddenly and pulled his cock out. His hands stroked my buttocks, then he slid a hand under my pussy and lifted me upwards. I groaned in pleasure as his hand squeezed my pussy.

Then he eased me down again and I felt something below me, a round something, like a tube. I couldn't see it, but it was very hard and heavy, a metal bar of some kind. Jon had wrapped the middle of it with sandpaper and it was now right below my bare slit. In fact, as I lay there my sex lips mashed down on it, kind of spreading aside as the thing pushed up into me.

I loved it. It was pressing up hard against my sex, right against my clit, and that was just what I wanted. Then Jon pressed his cock back into my anal hole and let his weight come down on me again as he sank the full length of it into my rectum.

I groaned and shuddered in pleasure as he filled me with his male meat. Then he began to fuck me again and I gasped in pain. He was fucking hard, jamming my body down again and again. My pussy was grinding down onto that hard metal bar, and the sandpaper around it, and that hurt... god did it hurt.

I cried out in pain, whining and gasping and moaning as his hips smashed me down repeatedly and my slit ground across the sandpaper. But I was so high, so hot, that the pain raced up my nervous system and hit the pleasure, and then kind of shoved that up a notch or two, or four.

The grinding against my clit began to seem like heaven. The sensation was indescribable, shocking, unbelievable.

The power of the firestorm that began to engulf my body was like nothing I'd ever imagined. It was intoxicating, and it rode me down and crushed me into a mass of sparkling, crackling nerve endings. I gurgled in wonder and agonized delight.

It hurt...oh how it hurt. I felt like my pussy was being torn open, like the skin was being ripped off, but the pleasure, the massive, shocking gratification as his big cock punched into me and his hips slammed down and my pussy rode over that sandpaper bar was worth dying for...I swear.

I was literally delirious with the force and power of it, demented, crazed. I don't remember much more after the pleasure took me. It was a long, excruciating ride of pleasure, of sheer rapture, and it blew my mind apart.

Sex with Jon was like that, like being bathed in liquid fire and it began to take over more and more of my life. Work, friends, nothing seemed as important as it used to. More and more of my life was concentrated in his... in our apartment, and Jon's control of me grew.

My clothes, for example.

At first he would criticize what I was wearing, and then make "suggestions" about what I should wear instead. The suggestions became orders, which I followed with less and less question, and then he began dressing me himself.

I would stand there naked, and he would take out the lingerie he had chosen for me... always very sexy, silky, lacy stuff. He would have me step into the thong or G-string, or sometimes a teddy, then would pull them up. He would put on my bra, if I wore a bra, and fasten it. He would put on my pants or skirt or dress, and even my socks or stockings and shoes.

At night he would undress me, as soon as I got home, and if he didn't fuck me right then and there would dress me in something or other to wear around the house. That was at first, when I wore clothes around the house. Later I didn't.

He started out watching me bathe, and then started to bathe me himself. He made all the decisions, all of them, and I accepted them without question. This began to have an affect on my personality outside as well. I was less sure of myself, less able to make my own decisions.

His personality was so overwhelming it left little if any room for my own and I became a sort of... pet of his. This didn't bother me. In fact, I found it comforting. I had no thoughts or worries, no decisions to make. Life was easy.
And there was the sex, the hot, fiery, raw, carnal sex.

Jon liked ropes. He liked bondage but he liked ropes especially. He would tie me up in all kinds of different ways and sometimes leave me bound for hours.

The second day there, when I came home from work, he made me strip naked right at the front door, and then crawl forward on my hands and knees. He let me stand up then and took out a long coil of white rope.

First he bound my wrists behind me, in a very precise way, with my wrists crossed. He was very precise about this. If my wrists were bound in front of me, they must be pressed together, as if I was praying. If they were bound behind me they had to be crossed, like an X.

This time he pulled my wrists together up higher, painfully high behind my back, up between my shoulder blades. He crossed my wrists there and bound them tightly together, then ran the rope around and around my shoulders just above my breasts, forcing my elbows back painfully tight as well.

He tied off the rope behind me, then let it down my back and between my buttocks. He pulled it in between my thighs and then jerked up tight, forcing the rope up between my pussy lips. He held the rope there with a finger, then circled my waist and ran that strand through the one he held with his finger, then back around my waist in the other direction.

He pulled another strand down between my legs, this time from the front, jerking it up between my pussy lips and then up the crack of my ass to tie it off behind me. It hurt, pinched my pussy especially, but he didn't seem bothered at all by that.

He had me kneel like that and suck his cock, then fucked my mouth until he came, spewing his juice over my face. Then he had me kneel beside his leather lounge chair as he watched TV.

A couple of hours later he untied me, only to tie me up again. This time my wrists were crossed at the small of my back, the rope was pulled down between my legs and up between my pussy lips, then up over my right shoulder and around behind my head, coming back across my left shoulder under my left arm around my back, under my right arm, then directly across my breasts, right at the nipple, practically cutting them in half.

He ran two more loops around my chest right over the middle of my breasts, then tied it off, leaving it like that for another half hour or so.

He did that often, binding me in one particular way, then untying me and binding me again in another way. It wasn't always with ropes; he had leather restraints and handcuffs, and these thick metal shackles.

The shackles were genuine slave chains, more than a hundred years old. They were thick and heavy and fitted tightly around my wrists and ankles, and came with a thick, heavy collar that fitted around my neck. They had heavy rings set in them and he ran chains between the shackles.

Usually he would run a short length of chain between my wrist shackles, a short length between my ankle shackles, and another length that held those two lengths together, running from my wrists to a point mid-way between my ankles.

He used the leather restraints when he wanted to hang me. They didn't cut into my wrists like the others did, didn't break the skin or cut the circulation to my hands.

The first time he used them on me was the day after he'd first sodomized me. He led me into the centre of the living room. There was a ring set into the ceiling high above, one that nobody would notice. I mean, the roof was about twenty feet high.

But Jon pushed a button set into the wall and the ring slid downwards on a chain. It slid all the way down to my head. My wrists were locked together in the leather restraints in front of me, and Jon took a little clamp, slid it through the rings in my wrist restraints, and slid the other end through the ring hanging from the chain.

Then he went to the wall and pushed it up. The ring rose, taking my hands, then my arms with it. It pulled me up to the tips of my toes, and then off my toes completely.

He stopped with my toes only an inch above the floor. As always, the bondage, the restraint, turned me on, and this was the first time I'd been actually hanging from my wrists. I didn't count earlier occasions because I could actually touch the floor if I wanted. Now I couldn't.

He pushed the ball gag into my mouth and fitted the straps behind my head, then picked up the whip, the one I now knew to be called the Cat `O Nine tails. I moaned, my toes curling and twitching below me, searching in vain for the floor and glorying in not being able to find it.

And then the whip cut across my back and I cried out into the gag. The sound was a muffled grunt, and the whip cut across my back again, lower. Again I cried out, and there was a strange sense of freedom in having the gag there, in being able to scream and shout without caring. The whip cut into my lower back and I let myself go, crying out loudly, very loudly. Yet it was tightly muffled.

He slashed the whip across my bottom, and then across my back. The long, thin leather strips curled around my side and struck at my belly, and my legs jerked and flailed in startled pain. Again and again and again the whip slashed across my back, making the skin burn and throb. And then he moved around in front of me and the whip slashed across my breasts.

I howled, my eyes bulging, my entire body thrashing wildly. My legs jerked up and back and my head rolled wildly. Again the whip cut across my breasts, and the pain was intense, sharp little needles of fire against my sensitive breasts. Another blow, and another, and my head was twisting and jerking in frantic negation. Yet he ignored my please and the whip slashed across my reddening breasts again. I screamed with a new intensity as one struck my nipple directly, the pain redoubling.

And yet even as it was with my back, the intensity of the pain, the sharpness of it was now getting duller as my breasts burned and throbbed, Another blow, and another, and two more, and my breasts were red and throbbing powerfully, and I shuddered and moaned, sweating all over now, gasping for breath through my nose, chewing on the wet ball in my mouth as yet another blow cut across my aching breasts.

He walked up to me, sneering in contempt. His open hand lashed out and slapped one of my breasts so it stung and bounced. Then he went back to the wall and pushed the button. I rose off the floor, going higher and higher, rising into the air until the hook was right up against the ceiling again.

The ground, I mean, the floor, was way down below me. I looked down the length of my body and then at Jon way below. He looked so far. I felt anxious about falling, about what would happen if the rings gave way or the leather gave way.

Then Jon sat down and watched TV.

It was really, really strange, hanging up there at the ceiling, looking down. He ignored me, watching TV, going to the bar for a drink, wandering in and out of the room for one reason or other.

I just hung there... silently. My wrists hurt, but my arms hurt more, and my chest hurt, right under my arms, along the sides of my chest. My lower body was...it was like it wasn't a part of me, just a ...weight hanging below, pulling me down. And of course, my breasts were hot, throbbing with every heartbeat.

After I was up there an hour or so he pushed the button and lowered me to where my toes were almost able to touch the floor. He pulled my legs apart and attached leather restraints to them, then screwed bolts into small holes in the floor and chained my legs apart.

He pushed the button and I felt myself pulled upwards, but the chains held me down. I felt myself stretched painfully tight, my spine aching.

He let the button go and I groaned into the gag. My body felt like it was ready to tear apart. I hardly noticed him moving behind me, and didn't hear his zipper going down. I felt his cock though as it pressed against my anus.
It thrust into me in short, sharp little motions, and he slowly forced it up inside me. He fucked my anus hard and fast, with no lubrication tonight, and it hurt as that big cock tore up and down in my rectum. I tried to relax my muscles, and after a minute I mostly succeeded, and the pain eased.

He thrust up into me again and again, grunting violently as he drove his cock upwards. His hands moved around me and cupped my aching breasts, then mashed and kneaded them, twisting and pulling them, digging his fingers into the soft, malleable flesh.

He slid one hand down between my legs and started rubbing my clitty, and the quivering lust that had been somewhat dormant, blasted into new life. My slit still ached from the ride I'd taken on the wallpaper, so it hurt as he rubbed his fingers along my clitty, but it felt too good to care.

I was on the verge of coming when he groaned and pumped his semen into belly, then slid his big cock back down and out of my hole, and stepped back.

He moved around in front of me and tied two long thin cords to my nipple rings, then pulled them straight out from my body. He pulled them across towards the wall.

The wall was more than ten feet from me, but the cords only looked to be about five feet long. They were elastic though, and stretched under enough pressure. That pressure, though, pulled my breasts out tightly, painfully tightly. It tugged my nipples hard, and pulled my breasts into sharp, elongated cones.

He tied them to some bolts in the wall and then grinned at me. He flicked a finger at one of the cords and it twanged and vibrated like crazy.

He put a leather belt around my waist. It had two rings set into it, one at the middle of my belly, and the other just above the crack of my ass. He then produced two long, thick plastic tubes. They were vibrators.

He forced one up my pussy, and the other up my anus. Each had a little ring set in its base, and he tied a cord between the rings at the base of the vibrators and the rings in the belt, so neither could fall out.

And then he produced a small alligator clip, attached to another of those long, elastic type cords. He clipped it in front of my nose several times, then positioned it over my right breast and let it snap closed.

I cried out in pain as the teeth pinched my breasts flesh tightly. Boy was it tight! It was such a little thing, but it really bit into my breast meat with its hard little teeth. He pulled it loose, and then let it snap down on my breast lower down.

Again I cried out. It was...it was worse than a pinch, maybe like a really, really sharp pinch. It really hurt a sharp, biting pain.

He let it snap on my other breast then, lower down, then higher up, then on one side, then the other. He let it snap down right on my distended, stretched out areola, and I screamed and writhed in agony.

Then he let it bite into my hip, then into my inner thigh, then raised it and let it bite down on my nose, laughing as my muffled cries and desperate jerking motions showed the pain I was undergoing.

He took the clip off my nose and then gave me a deep, hungry look. He eased down to his knees between my legs and I stared down in fear, yelling at him through the gag. My sex lips were already pulled apart as they squeezed down on the base of the vibrator stuffed up inside me. He peeled them open right at the very top, right over my clitty.

Then he slid the sharp little metal teeth of the alligator clip around my clitoris and let it snap down.

I screamed louder and longer than at any point in my life, I'm sure. The agony rolled over me in waves, nausea and a burning, sharp, jagged, terrible pain. My hips jerked maniacally back and forth and from side to side, as though I could shake the terrible biting thing off, but it was far too tightly locked onto my sensitive little button.

I thought that surely it was the most pain I had ever felt in my life, and I threw back my head and screamed.
Jon watched with interest, then moved behind me and I felt him tugging down and back on the elastic cord. I felt it pulling on my clitty, pulling hard, then he tied it off somewhere and came back around in front of me.
The pain was slowly fading into a dull, hot, ache, but was still awful. Tears were sliding down my cheeks as I moaned in pain.

Jon continued to watch me and I saw he was quite aroused, his cock sticking out hard and ready. I hoped he wanted to fuck me, since he'd have to remove the thing on my clit first, but he apparently decided to wait.

He reached between my legs and fiddled with the vibrators, turning both of them on.

Then he walked away and left me.




FIVE

I hung there, legs pulled down and out very tightly; back aching, arms and chest in pain, and nipples burning with a sharp, pinching, tearing sensation. My clitty throbbing dully.

And those vibrators buzzing up in my belly.

Most people would consider this a terrible circumstance.

I didn't.

Oh, I was uncomfortable, that was for sure, and I was in some pain, too, but once the jaggedness, the sharpness of the pain in my clitty faded I felt so incredibly charged, so sexually alive, that my discomfort didn't' matter.

And when Jon rolled a full length mirror out from one of the bedrooms and set it up a few feet back and I could actually see myself. Oh God! I came, just from looking at myself!

My hip shook and I humped frantically back and forth, swinging my ass as much as I could given the tightness of the bonds holding me. I jerked and trembled and shook, screaming into the gag in my mouth, glad it was there, excited at being able to express my sexual ecstasy, at being able to let it all out... even if into a gag.

And even as I was starting to come down from that high the buzzing and vibrations of the two plastic sex toys in my belly began to get to me, began making me tremble helplessly. I twitched and jerked and bucked spasmodically, my mind starting to buzz along with the vibrators.

It was so sensual, so sexually passionate. I raised my eyes and looked at myself in the mirror, and came again, grunting and groaning and yelling into the gag as my body danced helplessly in the grip of the orgasmic maelstrom.

Every movement sent waves of heat into my breasts, of course, because I was tugging against the elastic cords holding my nipples out so tightly, and every time I jerked my hips forward I pulled painfully hard against the other cord, the one attached to my clitty.

That hurt, it hurt badly and yet... yet I... well... I found myself enjoying it. Is that weird? The thing is, here I was really hot sexually, really alive, really excited, and that made my hips thrust forward repeatedly. With the alligator clip tied to my clitty, that meant I was tugging repeatedly at that, and it was yanking down again and again on my clitty.

In a way, it was like the sandpaper. I was so hot that the fire, the burning that went up through my system from the pain, only shoved the pleasure up ahead of it, onto a higher plain, blasting my mind so that the pain just didn't matter. I didn't welcome it, but it didn't matter.

The pleasure mattered. The pleasure that had totally engulfed my body and mind. Everything else was interpreted in the light of the golden glow of sexual bliss that had surrounded me.

The sight of myself in the mirror... the burning in my nipples and clitty...the buzzing in my pussy and anus, and the fullness... and the overwhelming sexuality, the sinful, raw, carnal sex act that was taking place was just so massive that I wallowed in the heat and pain and pleasure, coming again and again.

I was drunk on it, my mind floating on the sea of pleasure, unable to think or focus or concentrate. Each time I started to get some thoughts together another come would ripple through my body and my mind would fall apart again as the ragged, sex-heat burned through it.

After awhile Jon came over and let me down. First, he pressed the button to raise the chain I was hanging from, making me cry out as it pulled harder and harder on my wrists, straining my spine and threatening to tear my arms free.

Then he eased it down a little, then removed the clip from my clitty. That hurt almost as much as when he'd put it on, but then came a glorious relief that was almost orgasmic in pleasure. He unclipped the cords from my nipple rings, and that the relief there was almost as good.

He undid my ankles and then slipped the vibrators out of my pussy and anus. I hung there limp for a few moments as he watched me, then he lowered the chain and lowered me to the floor. I lay there, almost unmoving, my body aching and sore. I was physically and mentally exhausted.

Jon lifted me up and carried me into the bathroom where the big sunken tub was waiting filled with bubbles. He stepped into it (he was naked), then sat down with me in his arms. I groaned weakly as the water closed over my body, then lay there in languorous pleasure, my head against his chest.

He bathed me slowly and gently, his hands moving across my sore groin and sensitive, aching nipples, then he pulled me around and positioned me so I was straddling his body as he sat there. I felt his cock nudge my pussy slit, and then push up inside me.

I hugged him, pressing my wet, soapy breasts against his chest, closing my legs around him as we fucked in a slow, gentle, grinding way, me riding his cock up and down and both of us kissing wetly.

When we were finished he reached behind him and took a pair of handcuffs off the edge, then carefully cuffed my wrists together in front of me.

From that time on I was always bound or cuffed in the apartment, from the moment I entered to the moment I left. The cuffs were left in a small drawer in a cabinet beside the front door. Failing to wear them past the front hall, for any reason, would earn me a caning or strapping.

Shortly after I moved Jon accompanied me on a visit home.

Jon had dressed me in a short summer dress for the visit, but with a cotton half-slip underneath. The reason for the slip was so the nipple rings wouldn't show through, and because I wore no underwear.

What he did make me wear, in place of bra and panties, was rope, a thin white rope, almost a cord, really.

He tied a rope four times around my waist, then ran a loop from that, right about where my spine was, down between my legs and up between my pussy lips, through a couple of the loops in front, then back down between my legs and up tight between my buttocks, to tie off behind me. He made sure there was a fat knot right over my clit so it would dig into my aching little button whenever I moved my body. And inside my pussy was a particularly thick dildo, forced up so deep that my pussy lips closed behind it.

This was the way I had to greet my parents and brother and sister, pretending normality, even though every movement made the rope pinch up hard against my pussy flesh and made the fat dildo twist in my belly.

My parents seemed to like Jon, though, of course, they had no idea the things he did to me, the things we did together. My father in particular liked him, possibly because Jon was such a masculine and successful guy.

Jon acted very polite and very gentlemanly around me, giving no hint of the sadistic sexuality we practised. I was worried, the whole time we were there, that he might do something like had at the party, but he was, at least in front of my family, perfectly respectful towards me.

Whenever he could, though, whenever we were alone or out of sight, he would waste no time in sliding his hand up under the short skirt of my dress and squeezing my bottom or pussy, or cupping my breasts. He seemed to take some kind of special pleasure in doing this because I was in my family's house with them all around me.

It was a big house...my parents both being well-off doctors, after all, so there were plenty of opportunities, especially with my sister, her husband, their kids, and my brother and her boyfriend, and my Uncle Stephen... well, we could slip away for a few minutes and not be missed, let's put it that way.

I was sexually high from the moment we walked up to the door. It was the danger, the anxiety of what he would do the tight ropes between my legs and the dildo up inside me, it was the outrageousness of it... I mean, showing up to visit the family with a dildo inside me and tight ropes tugged up between my bare, hairless pussy and buttocks. I mean, my God!

It wasn't any kind of delirium or anything, just a pleasant sexual buzz, but it kept my body ready for anything, and each time he slid a hand under my skirt and squeezed my pussy my juices boiled.

His opportunity for something more occurred just after dinner. My mother and sister were in the kitchen doing the washing up. My dad and brother were outside on the porch. Uncle Stephen and Kate's (my sister) boyfriend were throwing a ball. The kids were watching TV.

We just walked around a little, and we wound up in the attic, where most family memories resided. I was searching for a particular trunk which had some clothes I wanted to show him. He had other ideas, obviously.

He shoved me across a low table and lifted my skirt, then began to untie the knots at the small of my back. I said nothing, but I felt a quiver of lust, knowing he was going to fuck me. He undid the knots quickly, then removed the rope from my crotch and waist.

He lifted my dress higher, then lifting it right off my shoulders, along with my half-slip. I was naked in the attic with my family all around. Who know when someone would come searching for us, or just come up to the attic for some other reason?

He spun me around and quickly used the rope to bind my wrists together in front of me. He through the rope up above a low beam I had hardly noticed, then tied it off so my hands were held above me. He began to kiss me then, hard and passionate and hungry. His hand went behind my head, jerking me back by the hair.

He crushed my lips with his as his other hand slid between my legs and began to rub my clitty. I groaned in pleasure as his fingers sawed up and down against my clitty.

Then he shoved his thumb into my pussy slot and pressed it against the base of the dildo up inside me. His fingers closed on my clit and he ground the sensitive little button between them as I jerked and shook helplessly, the sexual energy pouring through my quivering body.

I felt the orgasm rushing over me, tearing at my senses, shaking me to the core of my being. His mouth blocked and muffled my moans and groans and cries of pleasure as he rolled my clit button in his fingers.

He dug into my pussy then, the tips of his fingers gripping the base of the dildo and slowly drawing it down and out of me. He pumped it inside me a few times as I slumped helplessly and groaned in pleasure, then he pulled it out completely.

He dropped his pants and pressed his manhood against me. I tried to spread my legs, to raise one up. He seized my right thigh shoved his cock deep into my pussy. It felt so wonderful, so warm and soft compared to the hard rubber cock that had been torturing me for hours, that I whimpered in delight and bliss.

I felt the dildo pressing against my anus, but didn't care. I humped against him, panting for breath as his cock worked up and down in my slot. He had both hands on my bottom now, one holding my leg up, the other feeding rubber cock up into my anus.

He buried the dildo up my rectum so my round hole closed behind it, and then his hands squeezed and kneaded my soft buttocks as he worked me back and forth on his cock meat. He brought a hand up to my breasts, squeezing them tightly, pulling at the nipple rings, pinching my nipples. His teeth gnawed on my throat and bit into my shoulder, almost drawing blood.

His cock punched up into my belly, sawing back and forth against my clitty, and made me come again. I was grunting and groaning and begging him for more, my legs half twisted around him as he thumped his cock into me, and over his shoulder I saw a small face peering around the corner, huge brown eyes staring at us, mouth wide.

A part of me recognized it as my brother's daughter Jenny, and felt anxious, but most of me was too caught up in the orgasm tearing through my nervous system to care if Jenny or the entire family walked in and saw us.

I felt his cock blow inside me, felt his juice pumping up into my churning belly, and felt a deep, all-encompassing satisfaction and bliss.

Then he stopped and held me against him. I let my face sag onto his shoulder with a low groan. I caught a flash of movement and jerked my head up, staring at where Jenny had been.

"Oh, shit," I moaned.

"What?" he panted.

"Get me down. Quickly."

"Giving me orders?" he asked, pulling my head back by the hair.

"Jenny was there. She saw us."

He turned and then let me down to the floor and untied my hands.

"How long?" he asked.

"I think...It was while I was coming, or just as I was starting to come. I saw her then. I don't know if she was here before that."

"So she was watching for a few minutes anyway. That's interesting."

"What?"

"Well, she didn't run screaming downstairs to daddy. She stayed and watched. She must have found it worth watching."

"She's a kid," I said.

He snorted. “She’s in college, right, so she’s over eighteen. She's probably not a virgin, and I doubt she was exactly traumatized by what she saw."

"What if she tells, though?" I groaned.

"Then she tells. We're both adults. So we had a little fun, so what?"

"Easy for you to say," I grunted, quickly pulling on my slip and dress.

I felt the dildo pushing at my anus, and pushed it out, holding it in my hand and wondering what to do with it. I found a rag and rolled it and the rope up in it, then stuffed it behind a carton, intending to come back for it later and shove it into my purse.

We hurried downstairs as I looked for Jenny. I wasn't as sure as Jon seemed to be that she wasn't still a virgin. Though, since she had stuck around to watch it seemed to indicate that she'd found us... exciting, maybe. If she were really shocked or disgusted she would have left immediately.

I was embarrassed and unsure what to say to her. I didn't know her all that well, though she seemed fairly mature. I was trying to think of how I would explain why Jon had tied my wrists above my head, and hoping she hadn't see where the ropes had come from in the first place, or noticed the dildo.

She was not downstairs, and not outside. Nobody had seen her. We went back upstairs and checked the bedrooms. My brother and his family were staying over, so she must have one of the guest bedrooms. Doubtless she had retreated there in shock and embarrassment, not wanting to face us.

I was all for getting out, making an excuse to leave early. Jon refused, and the tight grip he had on my wrist indicated he wasn't willing to discuss it.

One of the doors was locked. We looked at each other and then I knocked.

"Who is it?" Jenny called.

"Jen? It's Mellisa," I said nervously.

There was no reply from inside and I looked anxiously at Jon, who scowled back.

Then the door opened a crack and Mellisa looked out.

Jon pushed the door and Jenny stepped back, looking at us with flushed, embarrassed expression.

She was a slender girl, all lanky and leggy, with straight, shoulder length blonde hair that she swept across her forehead. She wore thin, wire framed aviator style glasses, and had a pretty, intelligent face.

We walked in and Jon closed the door behind us.

"I uh, I thought we should talk," I said, feeling my own face turning red.

"About what?" she asked.

"What you saw upstairs," Jon said.

"Upstairs?" she asked, red faced.
"You were watching us," Jon said.
"I...I wasn't. I just...I was looking for something."
"You were watching us," Jon said remorselessly.
"Well, I didn't know you'd be there," she gulped.
"But when you saw us you stayed and watched," Jon said.

She opened her mouth to deny it, her face turning redder.
"Did you like what you saw?" Jon asked sternly, turning her into the guilty party.

She stared at him in shock and embarrassment, licking her lips nervously.
"I wasn't...trying to...to peep," she said, squirming.
"But you were turned on by what you saw," Jon said. "You found it exciting."
"No, I..."
"You watched and listened because you were aroused, because your heart was pounding, your blood racing, your breasts throbbing, your nipples pressing out against your shirt..."

He stepped forward, backing her up. She stared up at him with wide eyes, face beet red.
"What part of it turned you on the most?" he asked in a hypnotic voice.
"Jon," I said anxiously.

He ignored me.

"Was it the way she was groaning and moaning, her cries of pleasure?" he asked softly. "Was it the way we were moving, the way we were grinding together? Was it the rope around her wrists, was that it, Jenny?" he asked.

"Was it the ropes that made you so hot, Jenny?" he breathed, backing her against a desk.

"I...I didn't..." she gasped, her hands up protectively over her chest, fists clenched.

Jon seized her wrists and pulled them open then shoved back hard, pushing her back over the desk. Her legs flailed for balance and she cried out in anxiety as he pinned her down on the desk.

"Jon!" I cried, rushing forward and gripping his arm.

He shoved me back. He was staring down at Jenny, who was staring back up at him, eyes huge behind her glasses. She was lying back on the desk; her legs spread wide, him in between them, her feet scraping without purchase on the floor below. She seemed spellbound by him, her eyes unable to pull away.

"Jenny wants it, doesn't she," Jon said in a low voice. "Jenny wants it good."

"Jon," I begged, touching his arm. He shoved me back.

He jerked her hips upwards, dropping her completely on the desk, then undid her pants, jerking them and her panties down her hips, pulling them under her buttocks and up her thighs, exposing her sex, her ass. He thrust a finger into her and she cried out, whimpering helplessly.
A sneer appeared on his face as he pulled his finger out and held it up. It glistened wetly.

He rubbed it over her lips, then unzipped his pants. I rung my hands anxiously, looking at her with helpless worry. I didn't know what to do. I knew I should stop him, but I couldn't. I couldn't' stand up to him for myself, how could I do it for her, especially when she wasn't doing anything to resist?
He took out his cock, which had already hardened, and pressed it against her. He held her knees together, legs up and pushed back against her chest.
"Put it in," he barked.

I thought he was talking to her, but then he turned and glared at me. I stared in shock and denial.

"Do it!" he hissed, frightening me.

Jenny was whimpering, but I went forward, unable to refuse. I took his big, thick, throbbing tool and placed the head against her small, dark slit. He pushed forward and Jenny gasped and squirmed.

He held her legs tightly pushed back as he sank his cock into her. I watched, mesmerized, as inch after inch of thick, angry red meat slid through Jenny's slit and up into her belly.

She started to fight him, or at least, I thought so at first. She jerked and shook and writhed in his grasp, gasping and whimpering and sobbing. But when he thrust the last few inches into her I realized that she was not fighting at all, that she was cumming, cumming furiously.

He began to thrust into her with a hard, savage stroke, his cock sawing in and out of her as he looked down, lips pulled back in a snarl, teeth clenched. His hips hammered down into her upturned buttocks as his cock spiked down into her again and again.

Jenny jerked spastically, her eyes closed, mouth wide, grunting and moaning and sobbing with pleasure as Jon rodded her. His hands gripped her waist and he jerked her back to meet his thrust, increasing the force and momentum. He was really fucking her hard, and I knew from experience that she was going to have bruises on her ass and a sore pussy when he was done.

I felt so helpless, just standing there, watching him take her. I knew she didn't want me to intrude, though.

He jerked her pants up and off the rest of the way, then forced her legs wide, jamming them down against the table top on either side of her quaking body. She cried out in pain, staring up at him in wonder. He tore her shirt open, exposing her breasts in a small white bra. He ripped that open too.

I flashed back to the time he had done this to me, fucking me standing up against the credenza. I thought I knew what Jenny was feeling, how overwhelmed she was, how astonished and wondrous and utterly burning with sex-heat she must be.

Her breasts were small and cone shaped. He squeezed them hard, then bent and bit down on one nipple. He slid his hands under her ass and lifted her up off the desk, pulling her against him as he staggered back into the chair. He fell heavily in the chair with her atop him, straddling him, her sex down tight on his hard cock.

He jerked her up and down and bent to suck her nipples. Jenny sobbed and moaned and put her arms around him, crying out weakly as his teeth chewed hard on her breasts and nipples. Her feet found the floor with some strength at last and she began to jerk herself up and down on his cock, grunting and gasping with effort as she rode his hard prick.

I felt a stab of resentment and jealousy as I watched her fucking the cock that belonged to me. But she seemed to be in such pleasure that my anger melted away. I felt glad for her, and then a little excited myself. Watching her riding up and down on his cock was like watching myself, and I knew now what I had looked like in the midst of a hot sexual tryst, as I panted and grunted and rode Jon's cock.

Jon tore her glasses off, then seized her hair, jerking her head back sharply. She cried out in pain, the sound quickly muffled by his lips. I saw the force of his kiss; saw his tongue shooting into her mouth as he thrust up into her. Her eyes were rolling from side to side, and then they rolled back as she shuddered violently.

I could see his cock appearing and disappearing as she bounced up and down. She was taking the whole thing in, and not hesitating to drop herself down hard and fast. She was smaller than me, and I winced to imagine how hard the force of his big cockhead must be when it smashed up against her cervix.

He lifted her up and carried her to her bed, then lay her down on it. He pulled his cock out then, and she lay back, groaning weakly, panting for breath, the orgasm finally sliding out of her and leaving her drained.

Jon was still hard, though. He hadn't come. I wondered why he'd stopped.

Then she turned to me. He gripped me and turned me to the desk, then bent me over it, belly down. He jerked my skirt up, sliding it and the half-slip up my body, up above my breasts so they dropped and dangled below me.
He kicked my legs apart, then thrust into me, fucking hard and fast, his hips smashing down bruisingly hard on my buttocks as he drove his cock deep into my belly. His hands moved up and down me, then slid beneath and cupped my breasts, squeezing hard.
His cock moved faster and faster, and I gripped the desk tightly to keep from being thrown off my feet.
Then his breathing made that peculiar rattle that indicated his climax. His white juice pumped into my belly for the second time in half an hour, and he slowed his movements.

He pulled out, then gripped my hair and jerked me up off the desk, swinging me around to face Jenny.

She was lying where he'd left her, and her legs were still wide open. She was making no effort to cover herself as her wide eyes took us in. Obviously watching him fuck me had excited her all over again.

Jon held me in front of him, my dress bunched up above my breasts. His hand slid down between my legs and he started rubbing my clitty. Inside, I cried out in denial, but my body was pounding with lust. I stared desperately into Jenny's eyes as she stared back, entranced.

Then her hand moved between her legs and she started rubbing herself, moving faster and faster.

Jon rubbed me with the two middle fingers of his left hand. He slid the other hand down between my legs then, and thrust two fingers up into me, pumping them steadily as he rubbed.

Jenny did the same, thrusting two fingers into her pussy and pumping them. Her ass started to hump up and down and her breathing grew rougher and harsher, echoing my own.

I came, snapping my head back and grunting in pleasure as my body shook and shuddered and trembled in his grasp. I heard her cries mirror my own as her cum rolled over her, and heard the old bed squeak beneath her.

Then Jon was holding me up, letting the dress and slip slide back down my body. He pulled me after him out of her room, then down the hall to the stairs.

"I don't think we have to worry about her telling anyone," he snorted.




SIX

Once I calmed down I was a lot more upset about what had happened. We left soon, and as soon as we were alone in the car I turned to Jon with a scowl.

"That was a stupid thing to do," I snapped.
"What?"
"You know what!"
"You mean fucking your niece? What was wrong with it?"
"She's my niece, for Christ's sake!"
"So? She's not my niece."
"If her parents find out..."
"They're not going to find out. She is not going to tell them what happened."
"Oh, you mean how you practically raped her?"
"Raped? Bullshit. She was asking for it, begging for it."
"She's too young to know what she wants."
"You were fucking at her age."
"Not with grown men."
"Your first sexual experience sucked, didn't it?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"It was a crappy fuck, hurt, and gave you no pleasure. Because of that you had practically no sex life for the next ten years. Now, Jenny's first sex blew her mind. She came twice, and she'll know now that sex can be terrific."
"Wait a minute! Are you saying...? You're saying she was a virgin?" I gaped.
"Popped her cherry right there on the desk," he grinned.
"Jesus Christ!"
"Hey, like I said, her first time was a helluva lot better than yours."
"You can be such a pig," I said.
"Just shut the fuck up. I've had enough bitching from you."
"She isn't go..."
"I said shut up," he snapped in an iron voice.

We rode the rest of the way in silence. We went up to the apartment, and as soon as we stepped inside her roughly pulled my dress and slip off, snapped the cuffs on, then jerked me forward. He sat down on a chair and pulled me down across his lap.

"Hey! What?"

"You're going to learn to speak to me with respect," he said.

"Stop it! I didn't...Ahhhh Oowww! Oowww!" I cried, as his hand cracked down on my bare ass.

I wriggled and writhed and jerked and sobbed as his hand slapped down again and again, turning my soft bottom a bright, angry red. He kept spanking until I stopped struggling and lay there, sobbing and whimpering.

He jerked me to my feet then and dragged me across the living room. He roughly bent me across the back of a chair and jerked my right leg up. I felt something sliding around my ankle and pulling tightly together... one of the leather restraints. He let my leg go, then lifted the other and buckled another leather cuff around that ankle.
He went to the wall and I heard a whining sound as the hook up on the ceiling descended. It slid all the way to the ground and he pulled me off the chair and threw me on the floor. He fitted the hook through the rings in the restraints, then went to the wall and raised the hook again.

I slid along the floor and then my ankles were raised up, my legs pulled after them. I slid further on my back, and then my bottom was lifted up, my legs spreading now, getting wider and wider as more and more of my body was raised. And then I was entirely hanging from my ankles, upside down. He gripped my hair and yanked my head up and back, then shoved the ball gag into my open mouth to halt my cry of pain. He fastened it behind my head, then let my head fall back.

I saw him pick up the whip, the Cat, and moaned and whimpered, guessing his aim. He swung overhand, and I saw the whip flying towards me, then cutting down between my spread-eagled legs.

A slash of pain made me howl into the gag. My body jerked and twisted in response. The pain was terrible, where I was so vulnerable in this position, my legs held wide. It was also shocking, that he would whip me there. And the whip struck again, the thin leather strips cutting across my pussy lips and buttocks from above. I had no defence, and the muscles in my thighs kept jerking and spasming as my legs tried to close.

The whip cut down across my inner thighs and pussy with a terrible, cruel aim, and my eyes teared up, the tears spilling down my forehead and into my hair. My sex lips felt raw and swollen from the beating, flaring with a horrible stinging pain. Then he altered his aim, slashing the whip across my belly and breasts and back. He seemed to be walking around me, lashing out at whim, cutting the whip across the most sensitive parts of my body.

It was dizzying just being upside down. And now to have this terrible flashing pain hammering me from all directions my mind was just twisting and flying and breaking up, unable to think, desperately, frantically trying to evade or at least brace for the blows.

The whip continued to fall, dozens of times, cutting into my breasts and belly, and abdomen, into my back and bottom and especially down across my exposed sex. My entire body was red with criss-crossing red lines of pain.
He knelt beside me and gripped my hair, yanking my head up and back, forcing it almost horizontal, with the back of my head jammed into my shoulders.
“You are a fucking whore,” he said, spitting into my face. “You are a sex slave! You will do as you are told and speak respectfully around your master.”
He released my hair and moved away, then went to the wall raised me all the way to the ceiling.
I hung there.
My head began to buzz and throb as the blood rushed to it. I got dizzy, and my skull felt incredibly hot and full. I groaned weakly, the sound totally muffled.
Time passed. I swayed slowly in place, my head aching, dazed. After an eternity had passed...I had lost all sense of time...I felt the thing lowering me. I felt the rug with my hands, then my arms, then against my shoulders, then my back. I lay there with my legs in the air, and he unhooked me, letting my legs thump to the floor.
He took out the gag, then stood up. I lay there with a throbbing headache, gasping and groaning as the blood rushed out of it. I couldn't stand. I knew if I raised my head I'd throw up. I lay there for long minutes regaining my senses, my hands over my face.
"Learned your lesson?" he asked.
I turned my head and saw him across the room, getting himself a drink at the bar.
"Yeeeessss," I said in a quavering voice.
"Who's in charge, you or me?"
"Y...you are," I croaked.
"Come over here."
I groaned weakly and rolled onto my side, then onto my belly. I started to push myself up.
"No. Crawl to me."
I blinked at him, then raised myself on my hands and knees.
"Crawl on your belly," he snapped.
I sank back onto the floor, then began to pull myself along the rug. My breasts scraped on the rough carpet below as I moved, and I grunted with the effort. He stood in place watching.

I pulled myself along, sliding off the rug onto the hard wood floor. My breasts were squashed below, rubbed and mashed and rolling between my ribs and the hard wood as I dragged myself along. I reached him and gazed up as best I could from my belly, then pushed myself up to the elbows.

He raised his foot and held it out to me.

"Show me you know who's in charge. Show me who's the boss."

"Wha...I..."

"Kiss it. Lick it."

He pushed his foot against my face, rubbing it against my cheek. I swallowed anxiously, then, still a little dazed began to slide my tongue out over it. I gripped his shoe and licked across the top of it, then around the sides. He jerked his foot up and pressed the bottom against my face, and I licked mindlessly at it.

He brought out a camcorder the next day, on a stand, and positioned it at one end of the bedroom. He took off my handcuffs and then dressed me in bra, G-string, garter belt and stockings, a skirt and blouse and high heels.

Then he turned on the stereo and put on some dance music. He told me to start dancing and then to strip. I felt just a little shy in front of the camera, but it sounded like fun, and I was soon swinging my hips and arms and swaying to the music.

I pulled the blouse up and off and flung it away, then, trying to look seductive and sexy, continued dancing, swinging my skirt, flipping it at the camera, then finally letting it slide down my legs to my ankles.

I kicked it off and danced in the lingerie, then kicked off first one shoe, then the other. I turned and wiggled my bare ass at the camera, then turned to the side and put one foot up on the edge of the bed.

I unclipped the garters one by one and seductively unrolled the stockings, tossing them towards the camera. I unclipped and tossed away the G-string, then danced around and around, showing my ass, running my hands up and down my body, swinging my head.

I unclipped my bra and, covering my breasts with my arms, let it fall away. I taunted the camera, really getting off on this, turning and looking over my shoulder, then over the other one, legs apart.

I turned, hands over my breasts, then slid them lower, cupping, instead of hiding my boobs. I let my hands slide up then, until they were way up above me and I was straight-backed, swinging my hips from side to side, undulating to the sound of the music.

I turned and slid my thumbs into the G-string, then slid it down my legs, bending over to do so. I stepped out of it, and then, completely nude, spread my legs and shook my head and arms below me as the camera peered into my pussy.

I straightened up and turned, running my hands up and down my naked body. I humped out at it, then turned in circles like a ballerina.

"Stop," he said.
I stopped, looking at him questioningly.
"That's enough dancing. Let's see something else."
"What?" I panted.
"Get down on your hands and knees."
I got down on all fours.
"Turn your ass to the camera."
I did.
"Spread your legs and raise your ass in the air."
I did that too.
"Are you a cheap slut."
"Yes," I gulped.
"Say it."
"I'm a cheap slut," I said anxiously.
"Reach back and pull your buttocks open. Show us your asshole."
I blinked in surprise and felt a jolt of sexual excitement, then did it, pulling my buttocks tight.
"Tell us how you love getting cocks up the ass."
"I...I love being fucked in the ass," I said. "I love being fucked real hard, taking a real big cock in my asshole."
"Put your hands between your legs and rub your pussy."
I let my buttocks go and slid my hands between my legs, rubbing at my pussy slit with my fingers.
"Finger-fuck yourself."
I slid two fingers up into my hole and pumped them in and out, in and out.
Something clattered on the floor beside me and I saw a big black dildo.
"Use that, slut."

I took the dildo and slid it between my legs, then rubbed it back and forth against my bald, puffy, naked pussy slit. I pressed the rounded cockhead against my gash and slowly worked it inside, pumping in short little motions, easing it back and forth until it was almost completely buried in my pussy.

I pumped it in and out, feeling a deep, quivering sexual heat just from the knowledge that the camera was focussed on my pussy. I pumped it hard and rubbed my fingers against my clitty as he watched.

"I bet you wish there was a big nigger here fucking you. Don't you, slut?" he asked.

"Yesss," I groaned.

"Say it."

"I...I want a big nigger to fuck me," I gasped. "I want him to fuck me with his big cock."

"Get on the chair and fuck yourself," he ordered.

I crawled to the chair, the dildo sticking out of my pussy hole. I had to shove it back in my pussy hole to sit down.

Then, like in his office, I raised my legs and draped them across the arms of the chair. Only here, I slid down, slumped down so my ass was raised higher.

I pumped the black dildo up and down in my pussy as I stared at the camera. Then he threw another dildo at me. I didn't have to ask what I was supposed to do with it. I started to press it against my anus, then halted.

I pulled the other one out of my slit. It was glistening with my hot juices, and I rubbed that against my hole and slid it into my anus instead. My own fuck milk eased its way down into my rectum as I shoved the other one down into my pussy.

"You like that, baby?"

"Yessssss," I groaned, pumping the dildos with both hands.

"Get on the floor, crawl along the floor, slut."

I pushed both dildos deep into my belly, so they were almost completely buried inside me, then slid off the chair and onto the floor. I crawled on all fours, then slid onto my belly like yesterday and crawled along like that, swing my ass.

He stopped the camera, then came over to me and pulled me up by the hair. I swayed and groaned as he walked me over to the bed, then sat me down. I gasped as the dildos were shoved up into me again.

He snapped leather restraints on my wrists and ankles, and then put a studded leather collar around my throat.

"See that stool?" he said.

I looked and saw a small footstool against the wall. I nodded.

"I want you to go and stand on it, put your hands up and put the links of your cuffs over the hook there in the wall.

You got that?"

"Yes," I said.

He went behind the camera and turned it on again, then I slid down onto my knees and crawled to the stool. I stood up and stepped on the low stool. It was only about a foot high, maybe. I turned to face the camera, then raised my hands high over my head.

There was a big hook above me, and I placed the links that held the leather restraints together over the hook. I had to stretch onto my toes to do it, but it wasn't too difficult.

"Now kick away the stool," he said.

He shoved at it with my toes, and managed to overturn it. I gasped as all my weight fell on my arms, then I was hanging there from the wrists, hands above my head.

"Keep those dildos inside," he ordered. "If you let one get out you'll get a spanking."

He came over to me then and put a blindfold on me. Then there was silence.

"Jon?" I called.

I heard something. I listened really close. It sounded like...voices, maybe the TV.

"She's in here," his voice said then.

"Ohhhhweee, look at that!" A strange man's voice said.

"Nice fuckin' body," another man's voice said.

I flushed red, feeling embarrassed as Jon led these two men into the room. I felt them standing in front of me, though nobody touched me.

"She's a real hot little slut," Jon said.

"Nice tits on her," the first voice said. Both new voices sounded... black.

"Let me show you something," Jon said.

The TV came on and then I heard music, the same music I had danced to before. Then I heard his voice, the words he had used earlier, the instructions. I knew they were watching the tape, and felt mortified at the memory of the things I had done for the camera.

I heard the men laughing and commenting on what a whore I was, on my breasts and ass, on how hot and slutty I was. I heard myself wishing for a nigger cock, wishing to be fucked, saying I was a slut.

"You can do whatever you want with her. I have to go out," Jon said. "Maybe I'll even sell her to you later. Think she'd be worth a lot on the street?"

"Hell, a whore like that would bring in a couple thousand a night if you worked her right," one of the voices said.
"Just leave her tied up when you're done with her," Jon said, his voice coming from down the hall.
I didn't say anything. I just cowered there, if you can say cowered when I was hanging helplessly.
Every sense was on edge as I tried to hear them talk, or hear them approach. I thought I sensed them close by me, but still gasped in shock when a hand slid in between my thighs and cupped my pussy.
"Still got the dildos up her snatch and asshole," a voice sniggered.
"You're a real hot little piece of cunt, ain't you?" the other guy said. A hand gripped my hair and jerked my head back, and a hand squeezed my right breast and tugged the ring out.
"You want a nigger cock, slut?" a voice hissed in my ear. "Huh? Huh?" The hand jerked on my hair and I cried out in pain.
"Yes," I squeaked.
The blindfold was torn off and I stared at the two men in front of me in shock. Both were black, both were huge, their chests enormous, their huge, bulging muscles sticking out all over. They were body builders, big ones, and they scared me just to look at. I looked around frantically for Jon, but did not see him.
"Like what you see, slut?" one of them sneered. He was bald, and shorter than the other.
They stripped naked in front of me and I watched their washboard stomachs and thick thighs appear, then their hard, blood-engorged cocks, both sticking right at me.
"What should we do with you, slut?" one said, the bald one. He jerked the dildo down out of my cunt and pumped it in and out. I groaned and panted and whimpered.
"What should we do with you?" he yelled.
"I...I..."
"Should we fuck you?"
"Yes," I gulped.
"Say it then."
"Fuck me. I...you should fuck me."
"Beg us."
"Please fuck me," I whimpered.
"You want these nigger cocks, slut?" the other one asked.
"Yes," I gulped.

He pushed in against me and shoved my leg open with his thighs, then rubbed his hard purplish cockhead up and down against my little bare pussy crack. He thrust it inside and I gasped and jerked in response. Then he lifted my legs and shoved my knees back hard against the wall on either side of my body.

He drove his cock fully into me, running the long, thick black meat pipe up and down my pussy tunnel as the other guy watched. He fucked harder and harder, until his hard, muscled thighs were smashing against my thighs and buttocks.

He pulled out, then the other guy stepped in and took his place. He did the same thing, shoving his cock up into me and fucking hard, jamming my knees back against the wall. The dildo kept sliding down my anal tunnel, and he kept thrusting it back in.

He pulled out and then lifted me off the hook, setting me on my knees on the floor. He got down behind me and slammed his cock up my pussy, fucking painfully hard, gripping my hips to jerk me back against him as he pounded his big black cock down into my belly.

The other guy knelt in front of me and shoved his cock into my mouth, then held my head between his huge hands and fucked my face, thrusting his cock right down my throat.

I stared helplessly at his groin as his cock pounded in and out of my open mouth, his lower belly smashing into my face again and again as he raped my mouth.

They fucked into me from both directions for a couple of minutes, then pulled out and switched.

The bald guy shoved his cock up my pussy and the other guy fucked my face and rubbed his cock over it.
Again they pulled out, and the bald guy lay down on the bed on his back.

"Get on, slut girl, ride my log," he said.

I crawled into bed and straddled him. Most of my fear and anxiety had fled by now and I was getting hotter and hotter. I didn't even know these guys' names, but they had hard cocks and powerful bodies, and I was...I was getting fucked hard.

I held myself above him and reached down for his cock, holding it up. Then I slid my crack over it and sank slowly down to the balls.

I couldn't help groaning in pleasure as I took that big cock up my belly, and both men muttered the words slut and whore at me, sneering and contemptuous. That only made me hotter. I started sliding up and down on his cock as he roughly groped my breasts.

Then the other guy got onto the bed behind me. The bald guy jerked me down against him and mashed his lips against mine, holding me by the hair as he groped my breasts and shoved his tongue up into my mouth. I felt the other guy's hands on my ass, then felt his cock pressing against my asshole.

I realized he was going to put it into my rectum while I still had the other guy's cock up in my pussy, and that almost made me cum right then and there. I was quivering in the bald guy's grip, fighting his tongue with mine as I felt the cock sliding up into my rectum.

My hair was standing on end as the sexual electricity poured through my body. The big cock thrust up into my anus until his balls were pressing against me, then the two of them began to pull and jerk their cocks back and forth in my belly.

I came then, came with a colossal blast of sexual ecstasy, riding the twin cocks, my insides churning and shaking and boiling around the two big black tools. I was a whore, a terrible, slutty, cheap, ready cunt, and two big black studs were fucking me at the same time. I couldn't believe it.

The orgasm ripped me apart, and I was hardly aware of the two men. My skull was flooded with sensory overload, and I trembled in pleasure and bliss as the two cocks pounded into me.
They kept fucking me, their big cock sawing up and down in my belly. I was amazed I could hold so much cock at once, amazed that my insides hadn't split open under the pressure. And you know what I wished.
I wished there were a dozen more cocks there to fuck me.
Their big, strong hands moved roughly over my body, groping and fondling. Their mouths were hard and demanding, chewing and biting and sucking on my soft flesh.
Then they poured their juice up into my belly, cursing and grunting and panting in excitement. And just as they began to slow, I came again, jerking and twisting my hips to milk their cocks as the pleasure coursed through my blood and brain.
Finished, they bound my wrists and ankles together behind me, hog tying me, then they shoved the dildos up my pussy and anus again and hung me from the ceiling.




SEVEN

I was on my hands and knees the next evening, fully shackled, naked, scrubbing the bathroom floor with a small brush as I'd been ordered. Jon had gone to some kind of party.
So why was I on my hands and knees scrubbing the toilet floor? Well, because he'd ordered me to, and I didn't want a beating.
He said he wouldn't be gone long, and sure enough I heard the front door slam. I continued to scrub, and heard footsteps behind me.
"Well, doing a good job?" Jon asked.
I grunted and sat back on my heels, turning around. Then my eyes widened as I saw he wasn't alone. There was a short, blonde woman with him, clad in an expensive designer dress. She looked down at me with amusement.
"Well?" he frowned.
"Ye...yes," I gulped, red-faced.
"You remember Sylvia, of course," Jon said.
Sylvia, the woman at the party, the one I'd masturbated in front of, the one I'd hoped to never see again as long as I lived. I didn't know what to say. I pulled my head down, unable to meet her gaze.
"You can stop this for now. Come and get Sylvia and I some drinks," he said. "Come on."
I shuffled forward as they turned and walked back to the living room. I was deeply embarrassed at being like this, being naked and in chains around this stranger, especially a woman, especially dressed as she was. I was mortified.
But I couldn't go against his will, and I shuffled forward in my chains, going to the bar and making drinks as he led Sylvia to the sofa and they sat down together. They talked about some kind of business gathering they'd just come from, ignoring me.
I brought them the drinks and stood there uncomfortably.
"Would you like something to eat, Sylvia?" Jon asked.
"No thank you," Sylvia said, smiling up at me again.
"Kneel, slut," Jon said to me.
I sank to my knees and then sat back on my heels.
"Just sit there until we want something," he said, dismissing me. He turned back to Sylvia and they continued their chat.
They started kissing, and his arms slid around her. He started running his hands over her body, down between her legs. She squeezed his groin, and they began to take each others' clothes off. She carefully and seductively removed his clothes, unbuttoning his shirt, then undoing his pants and pulling them off.
When he was naked, she slid her own clothes off and then they slid together on the couch, kissing and grinding their bodies together. She spread her legs and his cock slid into her, then he began fucking hard.
She grunted with the impact, raising her legs and sliding them around his body. She rocked back, pulling her legs up and back, rolling back and forth with his strokes, grunting and gasping as she took his cock into her.
I couldn't at first, understand why she would allow him to fuck her like that, right in front of me, but then I remembered him saying something about her being a "pro", a prostitute. So I guess he was paying her for it. Then I felt angry. I mean, why would he pay to have sex with her when he could fuck me for nothing? Hadn't he said something like that at the party?
I watched him thrust into her for long, long minutes, listening to them sigh and moan and grunt in pleasure. I felt jealous, and also a little hurt.
Then he came inside her, dumping his semen into her belly, and their rocking, humping, grinding motions eased. He sat up and sighed happily, then pulled away from her.
"Come over here and finish her off, slut," he said, turning to look at me.
I looked at him in shock, then at Sylvia, who was smirking at me. She slid around until she was facing me, slumped down, legs up and apart.
"Come and lick me, honey," she said.
"Eat her out, bitch," Jon sneered.
I swallowed nervously, then crawled forward a little until I was at the edge of the couch. My face was only a couple of feet from Sylvia's groin, and I stared at it with some embarrassment. I mean, I'd never done anything with a woman before, and wasn't sure I wanted to now.
What I wanted didn't count, though. Jon gripped my hair and shoved me forward, mashing my face into Sylvia's groin and rubbing it up and down.
"Suck her clit! Stick that tongue into her, slut!" he barked.
He twisted and pulled at my hair until I began to kiss and lick her pussy, then he let go. Sylvia put her hand on my head but was a little more gentle. And then she started telling me what to do, giving me instructions in how to lick her pussy.
I peeled her lips open and began to slide my tongue up and down against her pink inner flesh, dipping my tongue in and out of her sex hole, then sliding it up over her clitty and working on that. I shoved a finger up her tunnel and then sucked on her clitty as I pumped it in and out.
I don't know whether she was faking or not but she started groaning in pleasure and rolling her hips up against me. I tried to remember everything I knew about how to lick pussies... all of which came from having my own pussy licked... and I think I did a reasonable job, even if it was my first time.
Jon pulled me away by the collar and shoved me back into one of the hard chairs. He unchained my shackles, then pulled them up behind my head and chained them to the back of my collar. He pushed down on my shoulders so I slumped in the chair, and pulled my ankles up and back.
He ran a chain from one leg shackle to the other... behind the back of the chair, so my legs were held up and wide. Then he walked out of the room as Sylvia slid onto her knees and crawled in front of me.
He came back with the camcorder and some sex toys, tossing the little box of toys to Sylvia.
"Okay, baby, go to work," he said.
Sylvia smiled at me and took out a jar of lubricant then scooped out a thick wad and rubbed it over my pussy. She shoved three fingers inside my sex and pumped them in and out, then got more lubricant, and shoved her fingers in and out again.
She took out a thick dildo and slowly worked it up into my pussy, pumping it steadily, working it carefully, forcing the thing deep into my belly. She pumped it in and out for a minute, then removed it and picked up an even bigger one, this was really thick, and I grunted with the strain on my pussy lips as she slowly twisted and turned and worked it back and forth, getting it deeper and deeper into my aching sex.
Jon held the camera, focussed over her shoulder, watching and recording everything.
Sylvia shoved the big dildo deep into my pussy and left it there, then she scooped up more jelly lubricant and began to dip her fingers in my anus. She worked a single finger up my back hole, then added a second, pumping them in and out, taking her time, occasionally stroking my clitty.
She worked three, then four fingers into my anus, shoving them deep and twisting them around. I moaned and panted and grunted with the effort and strain of trying to accommodate her fingers, which were jammed into my anus all the way to the knuckles.
She pumped them in and out very slowly, and inside me the fingers wiggled and writhed like live little snakes, making my insides itch and tingle and tickle.
She pumped the dildo in my pussy with the other hand, then removed it and slid her fingers in instead. She fucked my pussy with two fingers as she rubbed her thumb over my clitty and ground it between them.
At the same time she kept slowly pumping her fingers in my anus, pushing harder and harder with her knuckles. Her thumb was wedged in against the rest of her fingers now and I gasped as I realized her intent, the air puffing out of my mouth as I took short, gasping breaths. My pussy ached as she stretched it more and more, making the flesh strain and threatening to tear me open. Her fingers twisted from side to side and her knuckles ground against the tight ring of my anal opening as she tried to shove them inside me. My legs jerked feebly against the chains, and I stared up at the ceiling, eyes fluttering with the wave of heat radiating from my body.
My clitty was starting to buzz and sparkle as she continued to grind it between her thumb and fingers. She slid a third finger into my sex, rubbing back and forth against the bottom of my clit as her thumb jammed down on the top.
Then her knuckles passed through my wrinkled hole and her entire hand was inside me there. I gasped and opened my eyes, staring down at her, watching her wrists sliding through my anus, amazed. I felt her fingers, her hand inside me, felt her fingers spreading out, pressing against my soft, rubbery rectal walls.
Her hand turned and twisted slowly inside me, her fingers probing, rubbing, stroking. It's almost indescribable what it felt like to have a whole hand up inside my gut. And she moved it forward, driving it further inside me!
I watched in stunned amazement as her hand moved deeper, as my wrist slid through the taut ring of flesh, and her forearm began to push inside me. I wondered how deep my anus was, how much of her arm it would hold.
A memory popped into my mind, of being measured by a tailor. The distance from my elbow to my wrist was nine and a half inches. How long was a hand, five or six? What if the fingers were pulled into a fist, maybe three inches?
Sylvia was shorter than me and had a smaller hand and probably shorter arms. So the distance from her knuckles to her elbow was probably about ten or eleven inches. Could I take? Could I take her hand, her arm, all the way to the elbow?
I almost came just thinking about it. Oh my God! What a thought!
And yet, that seemed to be exactly what she was trying to do. Her fingers continued to wriggle around inside my rectum, opening and closing, caressing and pushing against the walls of my anal tube. Her hand didn't hurt inside me at all. It was only right at the entrance that it was really tight, and since her wrist and arm was narrower than her hand, that didn't hurt either.
And her hand pushed deeper, until I felt her finger pushing against something way up in my belly. I guess the end of my rectal tube. Her arm was way up in me now. I couldn't quite see my own anus, but I could see that most of her forearm was inside me.
I felt her fingers slowly closing, one by one, and groaned, shuddering as an orgasm began to sweep over me. Then it hit and I bounced and jerked and shook in the chair and the chains, squeezing down tight around her hand and arm as she twisted it slowly inside my gut.
She rubbed especially hard against my clitty as I came, and I whimpered in gratitude as the climax ripped through my nervous system.
Then it passed and I groaned in weak relief. Sylvia continued stroking my clitty then started to close her fingers in my anus again. She drew them all in to a fist inside me, then once more began to push forward, screwing her arm from side to side as she forced her fist deeper into my rectum.
I felt her elbow then against my anal ring, and I shuddered in wonder and joy when I knew I had taken her whole forearm up my anus. Her fist was a big, hard lump deep in my belly and I pulled feebly against the chains binding my wrists because I wanted to rub my belly and feel her fist inside me.
She held it still inside me, only turning it slowly, half a turn to the right, then back, then half a turn to the left, going very slowly.
Meanwhile she was pumping her fingers in my pussy with more energy. She slid three fingers in to the knuckles, then pulled out and added a fourth. She shoved them deep and wiggled them around, then shoved her thumb in and started to push hard. I groaned as her fingers pushed in to the knuckles and I felt the hard pressure of her knuckles against my pussy lips.
I knew that she was going to try and shove her hand and arm up my pussy too, and I trembled in anticipation, wondering if I would be killed or something, but not really caring.
Her hand moved slowly, screwing from side to side, easing up on the pressure, then increasing it, then easing, pulling back a bit, then sliding forward, keeping an almost constant pressure on my pussy lips.
I felt my sex opening strain and stretch and felt a sharp pain. I groaned and whimpered, willing her to shove forward, to bury her hand in my belly. My head jerked and rolled against the back of the chair as I cursed softly and moaned.
Then her knuckles slowly slid through my pussy lips and her hand slid into my sex tube. I shuddered and came, jerking and bouncing wildly, grunting like an animal as I rode the waves of pleasure. The pressure in my belly was enormous, and I gloried in it.
She let me slide out of my cum, then continued the pressure, easing her hand deeper and deeper in my sex. When her hand was fully inside my sex lips were able to close a little bit, snapping tight around her wrist.
As with my anus, it was just getting in that was hard. Now that her hand was inside me it didn't really hurt, and there seemed to be lots of room for it.
Her hand felt even stranger in my pussy than in my anus. I could feel her fingers better as they moved and twisted around inside my pussy, for one thing. Also, there were now two hands in me. Two!
The fist in my anus was twisting slowly from side to side, and pumping very gently, and I could feel both of them bulging my tubes out towards each other. I could feel her fingers in my pussy, pressing against her arm in my anus.
She worked her hand deeper inside me and I kind of humped and rolled my hips on the chair, driving myself up onto both hands. I came again, my head thrashing from side to side as I trembled through the orgasm, my pussy and anus both spasming and clamping down on her hands and arms.
My insides felt so.... hard. It was an incredible sensation having those two hands in my belly, especially since they kept moving. I was impaled on them, and yet felt no pain. Even when Sylvia began pumping her fist in my anus with longer strokes I felt no pain.
Her fist moved slowly up and down in my rectum, while her other hand drove slowly upwards into my belly, reaching the very bottom of my pussy canal and touching my cervix. She closed that hand into a fist like she had the other, and pushed it deeper, until her actual knuckles were grinding against my cervix.
Then, just like the other one, she began to pump her fist up and down and twist it from side to side.
I was awed at the sensation. Sylvia's eyes shone as she watched my pussy and anus wrapped around her arms up to the elbows. Jon licked his lips under the camcorder as he carefully shot close-ups over her shoulder.
Then, apparently too excited to keep filming, he put down the camcorder and moved to the side of my chair. He gripped my hair and twisted my face towards him, then shoved his cock into my mouth. I sucked automatically, even though my mind was on auto-pilot and not functioning very well.
Sylvia started pumping her fists harder and faster in my pussy and anus, and I screamed in pleasure and pain, an orgasm rocketing through my system, pulling a train of others behind it.
Jon was lucky I didn't bite his cock off as I thrashed and shook in maddened pleasure. Orgasms parading across my nervous system as I screamed around his prick and convulsed in feverish sexual ecstasy.
He jerked his prick free and crawled in behind Sylvia. Her eyes glazed and she groaned as his cock worked up into her. I couldn't tell if he was in her pussy or anus, and didn't care anyway. I was a humping, bouncing, grunting, whining animal, totally consumed by the fires that were blazing within my body.
My vision began to fade as, my chest locked tight, I forgot to breath. Then I blacked out completely, not just blanked out, mind you, but lost consciousness altogether.
I woke in bed, alone. My pussy felt a little sore, especially my pussy lips, and my anus stung a bit around the front too. I was also feeling muscle aches from the rest of my body, probably due to the muscular convulsions that had ripped through me during the many orgasms.
The shackles were still on me, and the chains had been replaced. I swung my legs out of bed and slowly stood up, then, still feeling weak, shuffled and clanked my way down the hall to the living room to see what Jon was doing.
He was alone, I was glad to see, and doing nothing more threatening than watching TV. He glanced up at me, then looked back at the TV. I sat down slowly on the sofa across from him.
"Have a nice sleep?" he snorted.
"Where's whatsername?"
"Gone. Paid off."
"Why did you bring her here anyway?"
"Well, I was going to do a tape of you two doing a lezzy fuck, but then I got inspired with that idea to have her fist-fuck you and things sort of got off track. I'll bring her back some night and have her whip you and maybe butt-fuck you with a dildo or something."
"I don't think...I don't think you should have people come here to have sex with me without asking me first," I pouted.
He glanced at me, then looked away.
"I mean, I like this submissive stuff... kind of... but I don't want you to treat me like you own me. I have a say in who fucks me and who sees me naked."
"You have no say in anything," he said, clicking through the channels and not looking at me.
"I do too. It's my body," I frowned.
"You do what you're told and like it."
"Who do you think you are, anyway?" I demanded.
"It's not who I am, it's who you are," he said. "You're a cheap slut who needs to get rode hard and put away wet. I can fuck you any way I want, or have anyone else come and fuck you anyway they want, and you'll still come like a fuckin' volcano."
"I will not," I protested.
"You have no control over yourself."
"I do too," I said.
"Bullshit."
"I don't ha..."
I yelped as he gripped my arm and dragged me across his lap, shifting me until my bottom was sticking in the air.
"You think you have control," he sneered, sliding his hand in between my thighs and squeezing my pussy mound. "Let me see you keep control. Show me how you can resist anything I do to you."
He rubbed and squeezed my pussy mound with his hand, then raised it and slapped it down hard on my bottom. I cried out in pain, but he ignored me as always, and lashed down several more times, making my buttocks burn in pain.
Then his hand slid down to my pussy and he began to squeeze and stroke and knead the soft pussy flesh, dipping his fingers into my slit and then pumping them in and out as his thumb worked over my clitty.
I wanted to resist him, but I couldn't. He knew my body better than I did, and his expert fingers soon had my insides all wet and hot, and my clitty sparkling and buzzing hungrily.
He slipped his hand out and began to spank me again, making me cry from the pain. His hand cracked down in a steady tattoo, turning my ass a bright red.
Then he returned to my pussy again, stroking and squeezing and rubbing and fondling it, making my insides as hot as my buttocks. My whole body was throbbing with need and desire as he began to spank my buttocks with one hand and finger my pussy with the other.
I knew I was going to come, going to come even as he spanked my hot, burning bottom, and there was nothing I could do about it.
And then the door rang.
He paused, then contemptuously lifted me up and threw me on the couch as he rose and went to the intercom. He picked it up and told whoever was there to come up.
I just stared at him, panting for breath and groaning softly.
"Well, little slut, you're going to have to wait a few minutes for your next come," he smiled. "We have a visitor."
"Who?" I groaned.
"Why, it's none other than that sweet, brainy little niece of yours. She says she's come to bring something her father wanted to give you yesterday. She just happened to be driving past. Isn't that nice?"
I groaned and sat up, then winced and stood up quickly, wishing I could rub my sore ass.
"Take these off," I said, holding my chained hands out.
"Why?"
"What?"
"Why?"
"She'll expect to talk to me," I said worriedly.
"And she will."
"Not like this!"
"Why not? She's already seen you being fucked tied up, and you've seen her. Anyway, you don't really think she's here on an errand for Daddy, do you?"
"Why..."

"She's here to get fucked. Why else would she come here after I fucked her so hard yesterday."

"Jon, you can't!"

"Sure I can, she's one cute little pussy. Maybe she wants to be tied up and spanked like her aunt, hmmm. Go wait in the other room."

"But..."

"Go," he snapped, jerking me around and slapping my ass hard. I yelped and stumbled forward.

I went into the kitchen, then moved over to the serving window which looked into the bar. There was a pair of shutters over it, but I turned off the light and then opened them slightly so I could see what was happening in the living room.




EIGHT

I was afraid that he would seduce her. I don't know what I was thinking. Obviously I was forgetting Jon was not a normal man. Once he was convinced he knew what a woman wanted he didn't bother with the social niceties, he just took it.

Jenny's face was red, as if she was embarrassed about seeing the man who had so recently and so roughly taken her virginity. She licked her lips and looked around the room nervously as she tried to explain this supposed errand she was running for my brother.

She was wearing a pair of white shorts and a blue shirt that accented her gold hair. She looked very sweet. She didn't look like she had come her for the reason Jon had said.

He let her in and closed the door behind her, but then shoved her back against it, interrupting her somewhat stuttery tale of why she'd come.

"Honey," he said, smirking down at her. "You came here to get fucked."

Her eyes widened and she stared up at him in embarrassment, her face getting all red. "I...I didn't..."

"What do you want to bet me your pussy is already steaming?" he grinned.

She turned as if to go and he caught her by the back of the head, gripping her hair and jerking her to a halt. She cried out in pain, her hands going up behind her to grip his wrist.

He jammed his other hand down the front of her pants and she gasped and her hips jerked back, then forward. I saw his hand moving quickly in her pants, making a rapid up and down motion. Jenny's mouth opened and closed but no cries or screams emerged.

Then she shuddered and groaned and stopped fighting. He let go of her hair and twisted her head towards him, mashing his lips down on her as his hand worked on her. She began to roll her loins up against him, groaning and whimpering. Then suddenly she cried out, a gurgling exhalation of air. Her eyes closed and her head shot back as her body trembled violently.

Jon shook his head in derision then turned her around and pushed her against the door. Her eyes were still closed, her chest heaving, her hands locked into tight fists which were pulled back beside her head against the door.
Jon's fingers quickly undid the buttons down the front of her shirt then pulled it open. She opened her eyes and gazed up at him, her expression a mixture of anxiety and excitement.

He roughly twisted her around and shoved her face first into the door, pulling her shirt back over her shoulders and off, then undoing her lacy white bra and removing it. He twisted her around again, like she was a toy for his use, and his hands went to her shorts, unsnapping and unzipping them.

He stood back then, a sneer on his face.

"Pull your pants down," he said.

The words seemed to hit Jenny hard and she gasped and looked down at herself, then back up at him.
"Come on, pull your pants down and show me your pussy," he said.

She reddened, then bent, shoving her pants and panties down, and pulling them off. She kicked off her tennis shoes too and then stood there naked, looking awkward and embarrassed.

"Not a bad body," he said. "Raise your hands over your head and arch your back.

"Wh...why?" she squeaked.

"Because I said to."

She raised her hands and then slowly arched her back. He slid a hand up and down between her breasts, then slid it down her belly and in between her legs, cupping her pubic mound and squeezing it.

She gasped and her hands shot down, griping his wrist. She cried out in pain, trying to pull free as he squeezed really hard.

"Please," she gasped. "Please!"

He let go and she fell back against the door, rubbing her pussy and staring up at him in fear.

"Turn around," he said.

She shuffled around, peering at him over her shoulder.

"Bend over and spread your legs," he ordered.

"I...I should go home," she gulped, starting to turn. He shoved her forward against the door again.

"Do what you're told," he snapped.

She reluctantly bent over and spread her legs and he stroked her buttocks with his hand, then rubbed her pussy.

"This needs a lot of hard fucking to get it in shape," he said, sliding a finger along her pussy crack. "But that's why you came here, isn't it?"

He gripped her hair again and twisted her around, forcing her down on her knees. He let go and backed up, then stripped off his shirt, pulled his pants off, and kicked off his shoes. She knelt there like a cornered animal, staring at him.

"Now crawl to me," he ordered, his cock sticking out straight and hard. "Crawl to me and beg me to fuck you."

For a moment I thought she wouldn't, but then she started forward, crawling on all fours across the rug towards where he stood. He backed up and she kept crawling, until he reached the couch. He sat down on the couch and watched her crawl up to him.

"You need something up your pussy, don't you, slut?" he sneered. "Mellisa," he called. "Get your ass out here now."

I didn't want to go, but couldn't resist his voice. I seemed to have no will of my own around him. I walked out into the living room, enduring Jenny's wide-eyed stare as I shuffled forward in my chains.

"Look who's here," he said. "A hot little slut who seems to take after your side of the family. She's here to get her pussy pumped."

I think I was more embarrassed than she was. She seemed to be more interested in staring at my chains than worrying about being on all fours naked.

"Get that box, the one Sylvia left," he ordered.

I went over to a cabinet and pulled out the box, taking it back to him. He had a hand tangled in Jen's hair when I returned, and was rubbing his cock against her face.

I set down the box and he looked into it, then pulled out the same thick long dildo that Sylvia had used on me. He handed it to me and I took it uncertainly.

"Pump this little whore's pussy for her," he said. "I'm gonna show her how to swallow cock."

Whatever Jen was going to say was muffled as he gripped his cock and shoved it into her open mouth. I looked down at her bottom sticking out as she knelt there, legs apart, then slowly sank to my knees beside her, holding the big, thick dildo in my hand as I stared at her sex.

I heard wet, slurping sounds and looked up to see her eagerly bobbing her lips up and down Jon's glistening red cock. I looked back at her pussy and saw it winking at me. I picked up a jar of jelly and opened it, then rubbed it over the front of the big dildo.

Then I pressed the fat, round nose against Jenny's pussy crack and started twisting it from side to side as I pushed into her. I heard a low groan escape her, but she made no move to hinder me, in fact, she spread her legs more.
I slowly forced the thick dildo into her pussy, spreading her sex lips wide open. Then, bit by bit I worked the long shaft inside her. She was incredibly tight around the thick rubber cock, but I used both hands and forced the thing into her.

I heard a brief gasp, then silence, as she trembled and shook. I looked up from her pussy and saw that Jon had forced his cock down her throat. He gripped her hair tightly to hold her in place and held her wrist up and out, twisting it to keep her from fighting him.

"Get the restraints and bind her wrists," he growled.

I got up and hurriedly got a pair of leather wrist restraints, then returned. I seized one of her wrists, pulling it back behind her and fastening the leather around it, then buckling it in place. I released that wrist, then took the other where Jon held it and strapped the second restraint around it. Then Jon and I forced her wrists back behind her and

I snapped the restraints together.

I turned my attention back to her pussy, jerking the dildo back and forth with no small effort, more than a little annoyed that once again I was taking second place to some other woman. I jerked the dildo back and forth hard, jerking her body with it. I rammed into her, taking some pleasure at giving her the hard fucking the little bitch had come for.

I pounded the dildo back and forth as Jon fucked her throat and fondled her breasts, then, after a few minutes, Jon pulled his cock free and got up. He pushed me away and jerked the dildo out of her pussy, or tried to. As strong as he was, even he had to jerk and pull to slide thick prick out of her tight pussy.

She moaned and gurgled and kicked her legs out, whining in pain as the big tool was pulled free of her pussy.

Then Jon tossed it away and pressed his cock into her. He thrust in easily, fucking her with a furious stroke, pounding his hips into her soft buttocks hard enough to crack a bone. Her entire body was jouncing and jerking as he hammered his loins into her at a savage pace.

Then he tore his cock free and pressed it against her anus. She gasped and half twisted around, but Jon gripped her hair and jerked her head up and back, holding her in position as he forced his prick up her anus to the hilt.

He pounded his cock down into her anus almost as hard as he had fucked her pussy, biting and sucking at her shoulder and the nape of her neck, his hands going around her and digging into her breasts, mashing and twisting them as she cried and sobbed and moaned in an agony of pleasure and pain.

Jon made me call up my brother and ask him if it was okay for her to spend the night. He said sure, of course.
Then he bound her arms tightly to her sides, and tied her ankles together. He made her bend over, and made me hold her up, then carefully circled each breast with rope and tightened it sharply. When we pulled her upright her breasts were sticking out like hard mushrooms.

He made her crawl along the floor on her belly, then lick his feet. When she wouldn't he pulled her over his lap and strapped her until she sobbed and begged him to let her lick his feet.

After that he hung her from her wrists and fucked her pussy while I sodomized her with a strap-on dildo. He turned her upside down, blindfolded and gagged her, then hung her from her heels for hours.

She spent the night with us, collared, chained to the bedpost, hands cuffed behind her back. The next day he filmed her stripping and masturbating with dildos and vibrators, then throat fucking and sodomizing her.

After that he took out the birch rod and whipped her bottom for being such a dirty little slut, then got out the camcorder and filmed she and I making love. We had to kiss each other, lick and suck each other's breasts and then eat each other out, and finally use a double headed dildo together.

Jenny was even more into bondage than I was, and more into masochism, too. He clipped alligator clips to her clitty, her nipples and all over her breasts and she writhed in ecstasy. When he whipped her buttocks with the rod, she begged him to hit harder. So he took out a riding crop I hadn't even known he had.

He stung her up by the wrists and whipped her back and breasts until she was barely conscious, and she came and came, sobbing and whining and begging for more.

When she left home a few months later for college, she decided, naturally, to go to one near us, and we gladly offered to let her stay in a spare room. He pierced her nipples, then her clitoral hood, and he would often lead her around by a leash attached to the clit. She became our servant and slave.

She spent all her time with us shackled, and slept in a cage. Every weekend Jon invited a dozen or more men over to gang bang her, and then beat her for being a whore.

I had thought there was something wrong with me, that all my strength had disappeared. But compared to Jenny I was a tower of strength. Somehow, that superiority enabled me to regain some of my own sense of self-worth and pride, and to stand up to Jon, if only a little.

Oh, I still let him do pretty much whatever he wanted to me sexually, but outside of sex our relationship took a definite turn for the better, and he was willing to concede me some equality, and even treat me with some respect. Jenny, by contrast, was merely a complete fuck animal, to be slapped and cuffed and beaten and used.

I have learned that sex can be the greatest thing in a woman's life, provided she allows herself to experience it fully. Most of us are too repressed for that, and I thank God that I found a man like Jon, who would force me to experience my own body's delights, and force me to recognize the reality of my own sexual submissiveness.

END

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