Indentured Servant Part 1 by Master Ivan
Posted: Fri Apr 29, 2016 2:51 pm
Indentured Servant
by Master Ivan
I had given up hope. Several business efforts had failed, my wife had left me, and my debts, substantial ones, were closing in fast. Suicide had occurred to me, but somehow, it did not seem acceptable. My sexual fantasies, however, provided an unlikely solution. At least, it seemed unlikely at the time. I don't know how serious I was when I placed the ad:
Sub WM 30's, in hopeless debt,
sks to sell self into slavery
as indentured servant to lesbian
couple. Pay my debts, and you
name the terms of enslavement.
Write Box XXXX...
On the surface, I considered it almost a joke, one which would have no serious response. I did receive a couple of responses from other males which I knew to be ingenuine. One single female wrote with some interest, but she had no money. With my debts still in force, sooner or later I would be brought to court. Then, the letter came which would change my life forever:
"Mr. XXXX:
"We are an affluent lesbian couple residing in (one of the most well-to-do suburbs) and might be amused to actually own a slave. If your debt is within our means, we could draw up a contract and set some conditions for your enslavement. We have had substantial experience with the bondage scene and often party with other women.
"We should warn you, however, that we would take your role as a slave quite seriously. Should you submit to us, you would truly discover how cruel and merciless we can be. Your slavery would be absolute, and your pleasure would be of no concern to us. You would bear the brunt of our cruelty and would soon regret the day you made the offer, but you will never be allowed to withdraw once committed.
“Think carefully, male, for we are quite serious.
“If you wish to proceed, write to us at box xxxx....
“Veronica and Megan”
Clearly, it was the answer to my dreams. Yet, dreams are often flawed, in that they tend to exceed the real capabilities of the dreamer. And the letter exceeded my dreams.
How heavy would be the burden of my enslavement? Was it conceivable that it might be a worse hell than the one from which I sought escape?
I knew that I could no longer bear the life I led. And from the moment I finished their letter, I knew I had no choice.
"Veronica and Megan:
"My debts are in the high five-figure range, and I have no assets. I expect court action within a few weeks.
"I don't know if I will be able to bear your cruelties. But I do know that I cannot endure my life as it is.
"Name your conditions, I must accept them. Pay my creditors, and you will own me outright. Then, whether or not I can tolerate your enslavement of me will no longer be relevant.
"Your future slave,
"XXXX"
During the days that followed, I was quite restless. Part of me was relieved, at peace for the first time in months with the thought that my burdens would soon be lifted. But another part of me was petrified of what might become of me. The one thing that was clear in all this was that my mind was already made up.
Five days after I mailed my letter, their next one arrived.
"Slave:
"We can cover your debts, and further, we can remove you from any future problems with the outside world.
"The price, however, will be high. You will live your entire life in our service and will be granted only a minimal amount of pleasure. You will suffer at our hands every day, sometimes for punishment, sometimes just for our entertainment. We have the means available to enforce our will over you totally, and we'll exercise that power whenever needed, with no consideration of your tolerances.
"If you are willing to accept these conditions, be at our place this coming Friday at 7 PM. At that time, we will lay out our conditions and give you time to consider your decision. Bring proofs of all your debts so we can prepare checks for payment. And do not masturbate for forty-eight hours preceding this meeting.
"It is important for you to be punctual. You will be punished severely if you are either early or late.
"Think carefully, slave. You may regret your decision, but you will not have the power to change it later.
"Veronica and Megan"
The letter floored me. Clearly, I would be in over my head the moment I stepped through their door. Yet, that fact held its own attraction to me and I could not find the will to resist it. I gathered together my papers and began packing my few possessions, not knowing even if I would be able to leave their clutches after the first meeting.
With that meeting three days away, it hit me that their prohibition against masturbation would begin the following evening. I found that the thought of being under this sort of control, even at this early stage, aroused me intensely. With less than twenty-four hours before the start of my enforced chastity, I took advantage of my last opportunity and masturbated furiously.
Friday arrived. I was now approaching forty-eight hours since my last orgasm. My balls were already aching, and my arousal was intensifying as the meeting neared.
I dressed casually, not knowing even if my clothes would be an issue with my prospective owners. Normally, I enjoy wearing tight pants; in my current state of arousal, I wondered if they'd be more a hindrance than a help.
I was painfully aware of my required punctuality and checked my watch carefully to ensure it was accurately set. At precisely 7 PM, I stood at their door, documents in hand and, fighting back a sudden wave of fear, rang the bell.
The door opened in seconds.
Megan was about my height, blond, of average proportions but exquisitely beautiful. She was dressed in a black camisole, g-string, garter belt, stockings and knee-high boots which raised her height several inches.
Escorting me into a small alcove, she closed and locked the front door angrily. "Leave your clothes in that box--no male enters this house clothed."
She watched me impatiently as I stripped, placing all my clothes in the wooden box she indicated. She then closed and locked it.
"Get down on your hands and knees and follow me!"
Without waiting for me to obey, she opened the far door and led me into the living room. I had to move rapidly to keep up with her, and my knees took a fair knocking as I rushed over the hardwood floors.
As I entered the living room at Megan's heel, Veronica rose from a throne-like armchair. She was black, at least six feet tall and dressed as Megan, but in red. Her body shone with the radiance of intense athletic conditioning. Her limbs were strong and muscular, like a gymnast's. Her hips were firm and slender, her waist so thin it appeared corseted (I found out later it was). Her breasts were straight out of every man's fantasy: large, firm and perfect. Her deep set eyes were filled with fire. And in her right hand, she held a Malacca cane.
"Shackle the slave!" Veronica's voice sent a chill down my spine which seemed to end at my cock, rampantly erect. Megan quickly gathered up some leather restraints and fastened them to my wrists and ankles.
Wordlessly, Veronica went to the wall and pulled a lever. An electric winch was engaged, and it lowered into view a three-foot long bar sporting eyebolts at each end. My wristcuffs were promptly padlocked to the bar. Working the lever again, Veronica hoisted me up until I was on my toes. Megan then attached another three-foot bar to my ankle cuffs, spreading my legs and forcing me up even higher until my toes barely touched the floor.
"Do you see the clock?" Veronica's voice was having a lightning effect on me. I looked instantly at the wall clock, which indicated I had arrived about ten minutes late. Obviously they had used this deception as a ploy to generate a punishment with which to "Welcome" me. But the cruel-looking cane with which Veronica was already warming up made the character of the the offense irrelevant. My punishment was clearly to be quite real.
"Ten minutes late, at three strokes per minute. You'll get thirty strokes!"
I shuddered. The cane, I knew, was one of the most vicious weapons available to use on a slave and one usually reserved for the most enduring, or offending, asses. Mine was neither, and I knew before it started that I was already out of my league.
I heard the stroke before it landed and stiffened. Then, my ass exploded in pain. My mouth opened in a scream, and I danced uncontrollably in my bonds. The first half dozen came in quick succession, in one blinding storm of agony. She paused, I thought out of mercy, or perhaps to stretch out the punishment, or to wait for my reactions to slow down. No, she was just changing sides.
Again, the explosion. Again, the agony.
Somehow, I did not pass out. I found out later that, somehow, I was not cut open. However, Veronica and Megan were, at least for the moment, satisfied. And they were clearly entertained. Veronica spoke again:
"You will be beaten frequently, for various reasons, in various ways. When you are to be punished, it will frequently be like this."
I became aware of Megan, who was fastening some sort of metal cage-like device onto my now limp cock.
"An erection is something we do not tolerate in a male slave unless it is by our command. Since we can't be bothered beating you for it constantly, that device will insure your obedience. When your dick is limp, it will be tolerably comfortable. But if you start to get a hard-on, those points on the inside will remind you immediately of who you belong to."
As she spoke, Megan finished fastening the cock cage and locked it. She then went to a cabinet and withdrew a large, life-like dildo with attached straps. She looked at me ominously as she began lubricating it.
Veronica began addressing me again. "Most males can think of little more than fucking. They are led in life by their dicks instead of what brains they have.
"That cage will keep your dick in line. The dildo will will be a reminder of who will be fucking whom as long as you are in our service."
With that message delivered, she nodded to Megan, who began working the dildo into my ass.
There was one sharp pain as the head popped in. As she pushed in the rest of its length, I shuddered, wondering if I would be split wide open. Somehow, with a considerable amount of effort, she succeeded in burying the entire thing inside me. I felt like the head of it was going to come out through my throat. As she buckled the straps and tightened them, it seemed to rise yet another inch inside me.
I had never felt so devastated. Strung up on my toes, spread wide open, my ass still in pain from being caned and now fully penetrated. And to make matters worse, my caged cock was now getting hard again. In seconds, the points inside the cage buried themselves in the entire length of my cock, causing me even more pain.
The frustration was amazing. The entire scene was taking my as-yet-unrealized submissive fantasies and force-feeding them to me in the flesh. With two full days of sexual abstinence behind me, I would have agreed to anything to have an orgasm. But the cage would immediately punish an erection, denying me even the right to be aroused. It was the ultimate tease. Or, so I thought. It was about to get much worse.
With a chuckle and a smile, Megan, watching my tortured cock and my pained face, said, "You know, I think he's enjoying getting fucked. He'll be ready for the chair soon."
"Yes, I agree. Let's leave him for awhile to think." With that, Veronica rose and started for the door, with Megan right behind her. Suddenly, Veronica stopped and, after a secretive exchange with Megan, returned to stand right in front of me. Megan went to a drawer and returned with what looked like a thick leather cone, with a hole at the top and several short chains at the bottom, joined with a ring. Opening it along one side, she showed me the sharp points lining the inner surface. Then, she fastened it around my balls. Veronica next showed me a large, spherical weight and wordlessly hung it from the ring on the device.
At once, my balls felt like they were being ripped from my body. The teeth inside the thing (I was to find out later it was called a parachute) dug into my scrotum, and with a good ten pounds of weight attached, it pulled my balls down several inches, stretching and compressing them most painfully.
The slight swinging motion from the weight added to the pain. I had just realized this, and tried to stop moving my hips, when Megan struck my ass with a large, heavy paddle.
With the surprise, I screamed in pain and literally danced in midair for several seconds. Unfortunately, this started the weight swinging wildly as it hung from my tortured balls. Gritting my teeth, I tried to stop my movements, but the weight continued to swing, adding to my pain.
"Now, let's leave him for awhile!", Veronica laughed, and Megan agreed. They exited quickly, leaving me with my pain. The weight continued swinging for some time.
I hung there silently, helpless in my pain. The more conventional part of my mind, as it receded into the background, tried to convince me I was in trouble. I was insane to permit myself to be subjugated and abused in such a fashion.
My deeper feelings came as a shock. In the midst of my suffering, my inner mind was calm, even secure. Being truly helpless to stop the proceedings, I was powerless to make any decisions. With the pain confirming my helplessness, somehow I felt more confident. I feared more pain, yet I recognized that what I had already survived was substantial. I was in competent hands, and I welcomed the opportunity to surrender even more of myself. Was it a death wish, or a yearning for a higher freedom? While I contemplated that paradox, my Mistresses entered.
They removed the parachute and its weight as well as my leg spreader. They left my cock cage in place.
Veronica began: "Now that you've had a small sample of punishment, you're going to find out a bit more about what services we require. Megan--bring out the chair."
She walked over to the side of the room and wheeled out a sturdy armchair mounted on rollers. A center section of the seat cushion was removed, revealing an opening almost like a potty seat. Below the front of the seat was a panel containing a neck-sized opening. She continued setting up the device by quickly assembling a framework attached to the front of the chair.
Minutes later, I was on my back, my neck locked in the opening, my face looking upward from beneath the seat, my head strapped in place. My wrist shackles were locked to the front of the chair's arms. My upper back and waist were strapped to some lightly padded metal supports, leaving most of my flesh exposed. My ankles were spread, drawn down and back, then attached below my ass. I was totally exposed.
Looking down at me, Veronica explained--"You will be trained to suck our pussies whenever, wherever and however we want. You will be made to build up your strength to be able to continue eating us for hours, or to service many of our friends in quick succession at parties. This chair will frequently be used.
"Much of the time, you will serve blindfolded--it is a privilege that we allow you to look at our pussies at this time. Sometimes, you'll even be gagged in the chair as a punishment. For now, though, we want you to lick and suck!"
Veronica sat on my face. Although the chair itself bore most of her weight, her cunt was very firmly planted upon my mouth with my nose buried in her vagina. A small amount of light sneaked in, allowing me to look into her asshole. Her scent was overwhelming: not perfumed, nor was she unclean; she was simply very aroused. As I reacted to her arousal, my cock began to swell once again, fighting the torturous cock cage and bringing me renewed pain.
I suddenly felt her spiked heels digging into my chest and abdomen and heard her command, "Suck it, pig! You're not supposed to just lie there trying to get a hard-on, you're supposed to suck cunt!" This was followed by a hard stroke from a cat-o-nine tails across my lower body. I began to suck.
The strokes were frequent and varied, and her heels seemed to dance over much of my body as I licked and sucked at her whim. Her demands were quite detailed as well as tiring. At times, my tongue would be exhausted, and the whip would begin anew. Somehow, when the pain was strong enough, my mouth would find new strength.
It became obvious to me that Megan was also stimulating Veronica, kissing her, sucking her tits, caressing her. Soon, the already generous flow of juice from Veronica's pussy into my mouth began to increase, and she pressed down even harder on my face, making it difficult to breathe. To make matters worse, Megan straddled my body, sitting on my chest. As Veronica's undulations became ever more strenuous, I would occasionally get a quick breath, but just as quickly she would bounce down hard on me, cutting off my air. Worse, my cock continued to harden and swell against the confining cage, increasing my pain. What little movements I could make in response were all transmitted directly to the massive dildo still filling my ass.
Eventually she came. Bouncing violently on my mouth and nose, sawing rapidly back and forth, she reached down and grabbed my nipples, squeezing hard and pulling with all her strength. She screamed in pleasure while I screamed in pain. Drowning in her juices, I had to swallow constantly as she came in my mouth.
Veronica rested, sated for the moment. I still had to work just to breathe, with her cunt still covering my face and Megan's weight on my chest. And I still had to cope with my tortured, encaged cock and a filled ass.
They both rose off my body, and I glorified in my renewed supply of air. They gloated a bit, enjoying my reddened face, soaked with Veronica's juices. Megan, spontaneously, quipped, "I think I'd like something a bit different--like a good fuck!"
I looked at her both curiously and yearningly--my cock still pulsed painfully in its rings--but she looked down at me and said, "Don't kid yourself. Your little dicky won't see that kind of pleasure for a long time."
She went to her cupboard and returned with an interesting toy. Essentially a cock gag, it filled my mouth with a lifelike rubber phallus. Extending out to its front was a similar, but larger, rubber cock nearly eight inches long.
They had to free my head briefly to strap the device onto me, but moments later Megan had me ready. I felt an extra pang of humiliation as they both smiled down at me, but it was short-lived, as Megan's pussy soon mounted the artificial cock and sunk down onto my waiting face.
Now, the frustration was even greater. Although I was buried in her crotch, immured in her scent, I could taste nothing. Beyond the pangs of my own denied arousal, I craved her taste. My mouth made sucking motions, but they were received only by a rubber cock. Even worse, I discovered myself unconsciously licking the fake cockhead, almost as if I wanted it to ejaculate in my mouth.
Megan bounced heavily on her rubber lover, buffeting my face, almost bruising me. Sadly, I could not do a thing to help or hurt the process--my mouth was a penetrated prisoner and my entire head was strapped down, immobilized. My performance was irrelevant. When she came, I quickly felt her juice running down my cheeks, out of the reach of my tongue.
Some minutes later, they attached a blindfold and removed my cock gag. One of them, now dressed, sat on the chair again, and I heard them discussing mundane matters, apparently over coffee. I soon realized it was Veronica who sat on my face, solely by her scent.
At one point, without thinking, I began moving my lips and tongue against her pantied pussy. Enraged, she rose and said, "How dare you lick my pussy without permission!" Quickly, she removed her panties, wiped her crotch and Megan's, then stuffed them in my mouth. Now pantiless, she resumed her seat, draping her short skirt neatly around my face and her vagina neatly around my nose.
For several hours I remained strapped into the chair. Occasionally, they would exchange seats. When Megan first took the chair, she removed Veronica's panties from my mouth before sitting down. She wore her own panties. Having been taught a lesson, I did not move my lips and tongue in her covered pussy, although it took an enormous amount of self-control to avoid doing so. Veronica replaced Megan, pantied again. I heard what sounded like a movie being played on the VCR, and I heard sounds like heavy breathing, indicating it was some sort of porn. Veronica rose, removed her panties and said, "Lick!" I licked, and swallowed as she came. Moments later, Megan replaced her, repeating the process.
Later in the evening, Megan took the chair and gave me quite a surprise--she had switched her usual thin, lacy panties for a pair of heavy cotton ones, and she had obviously pissed in them, soaking them completely. I moaned in humiliation, bringing forth a gale of laughter from them both. Megan rose slightly, grabbed and twisted my nipples, and said, "You may lick and suck!" It was a command, not an option. I licked and sucked, thru the thick cotton, now immured in the taste and smell of her piss. The panties held a great deal of her moisture and shielded her pussy quite effectively from my efforts. It took time, but I brought her off.
Eventually, I was released. My blindfold and dildo were removed, and I saw that my captors were dressed for bed, both wearing negligees. A collar was placed around my neck and padlocked, while my wrists were locked together in front of me.
I was brought on my knees to their bedroom where, still kneeling, I was made to lick each of their assholes thoroughly, inside and out. I was then permitted to give each pussy one single kiss. My collar was chained to the foot of the bed, and my Mistresses got into bed, making love for perhaps another hour before going to sleep. I suffered thru the night as I was, naked, shackled, on the bare floor, my cock still painfully caged and more sexually frustrated than I thought possible. Somehow, I slept.
I awoke the next morning to the taste of cunt. I had been blindfolded, my collar chain removed, my hands locked behind me. The pussy enveloping my face demanded to be licked and sucked, and I complied. I recognized it as Veronica's. Megan demanded the same service prior to their showering together.
An hour later, in their living room, my blindfold was again removed. My hands were chained in front of me, and I was allowed to make breakfast and coffee for the three of us. After receiving approval from my Mistresses, I was allowed to eat with my plate on the floor.
Following breakfast, a small wooden stool was brought out, and I was allowed to sit for a discussion about my future.
Veronica began: "Now that you've had a small sample of our hospitality, how do you feel about our offer?"
Still immersed in my role, and painfully aroused with my cock locked in the now fearsome cage, I was momentarily at a loss for words. They chuckled, and Megan said, "Just this once, speak freely. You are, perhaps, going to make a major commitment, and we must be sure you're serious and well-prepared for what will come."
Veronica added, "When we buy into a slave, we want our money's worth. We will not accept some poor, lost dick that will cave in on us after just a few months of abuse. Can you take it?"
"Yes." My own word shocked me, but as soon as I said it, I realized it was the truth. "Yes, I can take it. Considering your needs, as well as the investment you'll make in me, I would expect no less. I only hope you'll make some allowances for me temporarily, due to my lack of training and experience."
With a sadistic smirk, Veronica looked at Megan and asked, "Have you ever seen my arm tire when beating a slave? Smiling, Megan responded, "No." Veronica then said, "You'll get all the training concessions my right arm can provide. And if I wear out all my canes, I have a very well-stocked supplier."
I shuddered at that last part, but saw how stupid my original question was. Veronica now brought the exchange back to the main issue.
"We have decided to accept you, if you feel you can survive a steady diet of what you got last night. You have three choices: First, you can leave now, intact and free, and never return. Second, you can have forty-eight hours to think about it, on your own. If you take this option, the cock cage stays locked on until you return. If you remove it, the deal is off.
"Finally, you can commit to the deal now. If you do so, we'll allow you an orgasm now, on our terms, of course. We will then drive you to pick up your things, vacate your apartment and cut the rest of your ties with the outside world. Your freedom ends now and will never be restored. Decide!"
It took me all of ten seconds to think it over.
"I do not choose to run. If I don't follow thru on this, my life will be worthless. To take another forty-eight hours on the outside will only prolong my torture aimlessly while tempting me with a freedom I cannot enjoy. Please, Mistresses," at this, I returned to my knees, "...take me now, as your slave."
This brought smiles to both their faces. Veronica told Megan, "Prepare the slave for his orgasm!"
Megan brought out another unique item from their seemingly endless stock of implements. It was a wooden bar about four feet long, with eyebolts at its ends and an unusual clamp arrangement at its center, equipped with straps. She attached it firmly to the floor, then had me lay down on the floor with my head in the clamp. Straps were buckled in place, and my head was held immobile, much as it was in the chair. My wrist shackles were locked to the wide-spread eyebolts. Megan now stood over me, straddling my head and began unlocking my cock cage. Unfortunately, my view of Megan's glorious pussy, coupled with the anticipation of my first orgasm in over two days, gave me enough of an erection to tighten the cage over my cock, painfully so, making the cage impossible to remove.
"Veronica--he won't get rid of his stupid hard-on!"
"Well, whip it out of him, Megan!"
Her cat-o-nine tails began dancing its way across my chest, welting me, causing my erection to quickly shrivel. The cage was removed, and with a chuckle, Veronica suggested, "Now, let's beat his meat!" She produced her own cat, this one somewhat lighter, obviously designed for more delicate targets. She started using it on my cock, viciously, causing me to groan piteously. To my shock, it also brought back my erection.
Megan, out of my line of sight momentarily, had put a glove on her right hand. I didn't get a good look at it, but I thought I saw a glint of metal on its surface.
They exchanged positions. Veronica, now standing over me, blindfolded me and sat on my face. "You want to come, you'll suck us both off, first!" As I started sucking on Veronica's cunt, Megan firmly took hold of my cock using her special glove.
The glove was lined with numerous metal points which dug painfully into my cock-flesh. Already welted and reddened by Veronica's miniature cat, my cock was in agony quickly from this new torture. Nevertheless, I remained erect, totally aroused, caught in that unique paradox of pleasure-pain.
Veronica did not allow me to become distracted from my primary purpose. A few more strokes of her mini-cat on my nipples caused me to renew my efforts beneath her pussy with my lips and tongue.
"Megan, spread his legs!" It was difficult to hear Veronica's words as I slowly smothered under her rapidly juicing pussy, but there was no mistaking her meaning. Megan took my ankles, one at a time, and pulled them up and back severely, attaching the shackles to the same eyebolts which anchored my wrists. This spread my legs painfully wide, more than I thought possible. It also raised, opened and exposed my ass, while leaving my cock pointed down at my face.
Veronica started stiffening in pre-orgasmic spasms and quickly brought her mini-cat into play directly between my ass cheeks. My screams were muffled by her pussy, grinding ever harder into my face, juicing rapidly. Megan returned to her torturous stroking of my cock with her special glove. I sucked, swallowed and tried to breathe.
Finally, Veronica came. My nose was totally buried in her vagina while the folds of her cunt encased my lips, cutting off nearly all my air. I licked, sucked, even bit desperately at her clitoris, trying both to please her and bring her off before I blacked out. After an interminable time, her orgasm ended. A moment later, she rose slightly, allowing me the glorious pleasure of breathing freely once again.
Megan had stopped stroking me and handed Veronica the same large strap-on dildo that had penetrated me earlier. I was still blindfolded; I recognized it only when Veronica held it to my lips, commanding me to "Suck!" I sucked her rubber cock, lubricating it, knowing well where it would soon be thrust. As I heard Veronica strapping on the dildo, Megan took her seat upon my face. With a brief caress of her needlepointed glove on my nipples, my lips and tongue resumed their labors, now under Megan's cunt.
Veronica now began slowly but forcefully working the dildo into my ass. The pain was less now. The previous time wearing the dildo had stretched my asshole considerably, and the wide-spread position in which my legs were bound practically invited the penetration. Moments later, the artificial cock was fully buried in my ass, and Veronica started fucking me with it in earnest, her hips bottoming out against my ass-cheeks with every long, powerful stroke.
I moaned into Megan's cunt, muffled as I was. Her arousal was rapidly increasing as I began swallowing more and more of her juices. I moaned again as that damnable glove again started stroking my cock. And my ass was being thoroughly fucked, arousing me further as well.
Megan came. I sucked hard on her clit when I could, and alternately sucked a river of juice out of her cunt as she ground rapidly back and forth across my face. And between the torture glove stroking my cock and the dildo pumping my ass, my own orgasm finally approached.
With my balls tightening, my own preorgasmic flow already starting, Megan suddenly rose slightly and tore off my blindfold. I found myself staring straight into the head of my cock, barely twelve inches from my face. Veronica screamed, "Open wide, cocksucker! Come right in your own mouth!"
Megan's painful stroking of my cock intensified, while Veronica reached down and used my balls as a hand-hold as her own pumping increased in my ass. My mouth opened of its own accord, from both the pain and my extreme arousal. Now, with Megan's pussy inches above my face, the visual effects combined with the stimulation, the torture, the tastes and smells, not to mention the humiliation of what now approached, all of it pushed me over the edge.
I began to come. Megan aimed my cock well, shooting most of my sizable load directly into my mouth, the rest on my face. I screamed in orgasm and struggled hard against my restraints, but I was totally controlled. My first orgasm in two days, and the first while enslaved, it nearly had me blacking out.
When I recovered my breath and some of my wits, I realized Veronica and Megan had not moved. Megan still straddled my face. Veronica, although her hands no longer held my balls, still had the dildo buried in my ass.
My arms ached; my legs, stretched back and spread at an extreme angle, were in agony. Accustomed to freedom, I now longed to move, to resume a more comfortable posture. Veronica would have none of it. She said, "Swallow!"
A new wave of humiliation swept through me as I realized my mouth still held a sizable portion of my own load of come. Submissively, I swallowed. Megan then began using a finger to slowly wipe off the substantial amount of my come that still covered my face. Several times, she presented her finger to my mouth to be sucked clean.
Veronica unstrapped the dildo from her hips, leaving its length buried in my ass. She then retrieved the cock cage and quickly locked it back onto my now flaccid cock.
Megan now looked down at me and said, "Time to clean up!" She sat on my face yet again, this time to simply have her pussy cleaned by my lips and tongue. Veronica followed, but rode me to yet another orgasm before accepting my oral cleaning. By the time she finished, my cock was already starting to strain against its cage with another attempt at an erection.
The dildo was removed; my bonds were released. I was placed in relatively lenient restraints, my wrists and ankles each joined by almost two feet of chain. Veronica, reconsidering, attached the center of the wrist chain to my collar--"Just to keep you from playing with our property!" Her comment evoked a laugh from both of them, while reminding me of how much of me they already owned.
I was made to lick the dildo clean, then wash it, after which I put away all the equipment. I then assisted them in dressing. Megan wore a push-up bra which left the nipples exposed, a transparent G-string panty, seamed stockings with a garter belt and opera pumps with six-inch heels. Over it all, she wore a tight, low-cut blue spandex dress. Veronica chose a merry widow, stockings, boots which rose to mid-thigh and a red dress similar to Megan's.
I began to consider what, if anything, I would be permitted to wear. I knew that today, for the last time, I would see my old life once more and say goodbye to it. I knew I would not visit my landlord or my bank while naked and chained, but I had no idea how far my Mistresses would demand I go.
First, obviously, my cock cage remained in place. A small butt-plug was greased and placed in my ass, harnessed and locked in place. To my humiliation, my collar remained locked around my neck.
I was made to put on a pair of fishnet stockings and a garter belt. This was followed by a waist cincher which they fastened so tightly I could barely breathe. Megan, amused, said, "We've got to get a picture of this!" Veronica said, "There'll be plenty of time for that later. Let's finish buying our slave first."
They permitted me the shirt and pants I wore in, without the underwear. My shoes and socks covered my stockings. I soon realized that the butt-plug would keep me aroused throughout the day--every move I made caused it to slide in and out of my ass.
We rode in their station wagon. Although it provided seats for six, I was made to kneel on the floor on the passenger side, my head buried under Veronica's skirt. My hands were cuffed behind me until we arrived at my apartment.
Veronica and Megan both accompanied me inside. A check was written and given to the landlord, and we all proceeded into the apartment.
"Strip!" Veronica's command caught me off guard, and I looked questioningly. In explanation, she said, "This is now OUR apartment, not yours. Since you are on our property, you are not permitted to dress. Remove your shirt and pants; the rest may remain."
Moments later, I stood in what was once my own apartment, before my new owners and Mistresses, dressed in a waist cincher, garter belt, fishnet stockings, my own male shoes and socks, my collar, cock cage and butt plug harness. As I began to pack up my few remaining possessions, Megan commented, "You know, he really is a pig. Look at this dump!"
Veronica agreed. "I think a dozen strokes would be appropriate. Would you like to do the honors?"
Megan smiled. "My pleasure! Slave--stand in front of me, bend over and touch your toes. If you move, you'll be bound and take double the strokes!"
I don't know where the riding crop came from, but I took the dozen strokes on my already welted ass. I did not scream loudly, but I'm sure my neighbors would have heard the strokes if they were home. Of course, I would never again be in a position to find out.
I packed quickly, producing one box of papers, mementos and the few clothes my Mistresses would permit. Three more boxes, mostly other clothes and trash, were destined for the dumpster. Before moving the boxes, they made me sweep the floor and wash it, all on my knees, as they supervised with the crop.
Finally, with the apartment cleaned to their satisfaction, my clothes were restored. I was made to carry all the boxes, unassisted, while they accompanied, watching. The last box went into the back of the station wagon, and we departed.
Now, Veronica drove, and my head was buried under Megan's skirt. We made several more stops, at banks and, finally, the IRS. More checks were written, and my Mistresses alternating driving duty so they could take turns with my face. My hands remained cuffed behind my back throughout each drive, and my cock pulsed continuously, locked in its cage. The plug in my ass added to the arousal, and the feminine items concealed under my street clothes completed my humiliation. Even worse, my face bore their scent whenever we left the car. I knew it must have been obvious to people at our various stops. Combined with the collar, visible and locked around my neck, no one would mistake my status as a slave.
by Master Ivan, writing as "Mip the slave"
1994
Copyright © 1994
Master Ivan Press
by Master Ivan
I had given up hope. Several business efforts had failed, my wife had left me, and my debts, substantial ones, were closing in fast. Suicide had occurred to me, but somehow, it did not seem acceptable. My sexual fantasies, however, provided an unlikely solution. At least, it seemed unlikely at the time. I don't know how serious I was when I placed the ad:
Sub WM 30's, in hopeless debt,
sks to sell self into slavery
as indentured servant to lesbian
couple. Pay my debts, and you
name the terms of enslavement.
Write Box XXXX...
On the surface, I considered it almost a joke, one which would have no serious response. I did receive a couple of responses from other males which I knew to be ingenuine. One single female wrote with some interest, but she had no money. With my debts still in force, sooner or later I would be brought to court. Then, the letter came which would change my life forever:
"Mr. XXXX:
"We are an affluent lesbian couple residing in (one of the most well-to-do suburbs) and might be amused to actually own a slave. If your debt is within our means, we could draw up a contract and set some conditions for your enslavement. We have had substantial experience with the bondage scene and often party with other women.
"We should warn you, however, that we would take your role as a slave quite seriously. Should you submit to us, you would truly discover how cruel and merciless we can be. Your slavery would be absolute, and your pleasure would be of no concern to us. You would bear the brunt of our cruelty and would soon regret the day you made the offer, but you will never be allowed to withdraw once committed.
“Think carefully, male, for we are quite serious.
“If you wish to proceed, write to us at box xxxx....
“Veronica and Megan”
Clearly, it was the answer to my dreams. Yet, dreams are often flawed, in that they tend to exceed the real capabilities of the dreamer. And the letter exceeded my dreams.
How heavy would be the burden of my enslavement? Was it conceivable that it might be a worse hell than the one from which I sought escape?
I knew that I could no longer bear the life I led. And from the moment I finished their letter, I knew I had no choice.
"Veronica and Megan:
"My debts are in the high five-figure range, and I have no assets. I expect court action within a few weeks.
"I don't know if I will be able to bear your cruelties. But I do know that I cannot endure my life as it is.
"Name your conditions, I must accept them. Pay my creditors, and you will own me outright. Then, whether or not I can tolerate your enslavement of me will no longer be relevant.
"Your future slave,
"XXXX"
During the days that followed, I was quite restless. Part of me was relieved, at peace for the first time in months with the thought that my burdens would soon be lifted. But another part of me was petrified of what might become of me. The one thing that was clear in all this was that my mind was already made up.
Five days after I mailed my letter, their next one arrived.
"Slave:
"We can cover your debts, and further, we can remove you from any future problems with the outside world.
"The price, however, will be high. You will live your entire life in our service and will be granted only a minimal amount of pleasure. You will suffer at our hands every day, sometimes for punishment, sometimes just for our entertainment. We have the means available to enforce our will over you totally, and we'll exercise that power whenever needed, with no consideration of your tolerances.
"If you are willing to accept these conditions, be at our place this coming Friday at 7 PM. At that time, we will lay out our conditions and give you time to consider your decision. Bring proofs of all your debts so we can prepare checks for payment. And do not masturbate for forty-eight hours preceding this meeting.
"It is important for you to be punctual. You will be punished severely if you are either early or late.
"Think carefully, slave. You may regret your decision, but you will not have the power to change it later.
"Veronica and Megan"
The letter floored me. Clearly, I would be in over my head the moment I stepped through their door. Yet, that fact held its own attraction to me and I could not find the will to resist it. I gathered together my papers and began packing my few possessions, not knowing even if I would be able to leave their clutches after the first meeting.
With that meeting three days away, it hit me that their prohibition against masturbation would begin the following evening. I found that the thought of being under this sort of control, even at this early stage, aroused me intensely. With less than twenty-four hours before the start of my enforced chastity, I took advantage of my last opportunity and masturbated furiously.
Friday arrived. I was now approaching forty-eight hours since my last orgasm. My balls were already aching, and my arousal was intensifying as the meeting neared.
I dressed casually, not knowing even if my clothes would be an issue with my prospective owners. Normally, I enjoy wearing tight pants; in my current state of arousal, I wondered if they'd be more a hindrance than a help.
I was painfully aware of my required punctuality and checked my watch carefully to ensure it was accurately set. At precisely 7 PM, I stood at their door, documents in hand and, fighting back a sudden wave of fear, rang the bell.
The door opened in seconds.
Megan was about my height, blond, of average proportions but exquisitely beautiful. She was dressed in a black camisole, g-string, garter belt, stockings and knee-high boots which raised her height several inches.
Escorting me into a small alcove, she closed and locked the front door angrily. "Leave your clothes in that box--no male enters this house clothed."
She watched me impatiently as I stripped, placing all my clothes in the wooden box she indicated. She then closed and locked it.
"Get down on your hands and knees and follow me!"
Without waiting for me to obey, she opened the far door and led me into the living room. I had to move rapidly to keep up with her, and my knees took a fair knocking as I rushed over the hardwood floors.
As I entered the living room at Megan's heel, Veronica rose from a throne-like armchair. She was black, at least six feet tall and dressed as Megan, but in red. Her body shone with the radiance of intense athletic conditioning. Her limbs were strong and muscular, like a gymnast's. Her hips were firm and slender, her waist so thin it appeared corseted (I found out later it was). Her breasts were straight out of every man's fantasy: large, firm and perfect. Her deep set eyes were filled with fire. And in her right hand, she held a Malacca cane.
"Shackle the slave!" Veronica's voice sent a chill down my spine which seemed to end at my cock, rampantly erect. Megan quickly gathered up some leather restraints and fastened them to my wrists and ankles.
Wordlessly, Veronica went to the wall and pulled a lever. An electric winch was engaged, and it lowered into view a three-foot long bar sporting eyebolts at each end. My wristcuffs were promptly padlocked to the bar. Working the lever again, Veronica hoisted me up until I was on my toes. Megan then attached another three-foot bar to my ankle cuffs, spreading my legs and forcing me up even higher until my toes barely touched the floor.
"Do you see the clock?" Veronica's voice was having a lightning effect on me. I looked instantly at the wall clock, which indicated I had arrived about ten minutes late. Obviously they had used this deception as a ploy to generate a punishment with which to "Welcome" me. But the cruel-looking cane with which Veronica was already warming up made the character of the the offense irrelevant. My punishment was clearly to be quite real.
"Ten minutes late, at three strokes per minute. You'll get thirty strokes!"
I shuddered. The cane, I knew, was one of the most vicious weapons available to use on a slave and one usually reserved for the most enduring, or offending, asses. Mine was neither, and I knew before it started that I was already out of my league.
I heard the stroke before it landed and stiffened. Then, my ass exploded in pain. My mouth opened in a scream, and I danced uncontrollably in my bonds. The first half dozen came in quick succession, in one blinding storm of agony. She paused, I thought out of mercy, or perhaps to stretch out the punishment, or to wait for my reactions to slow down. No, she was just changing sides.
Again, the explosion. Again, the agony.
Somehow, I did not pass out. I found out later that, somehow, I was not cut open. However, Veronica and Megan were, at least for the moment, satisfied. And they were clearly entertained. Veronica spoke again:
"You will be beaten frequently, for various reasons, in various ways. When you are to be punished, it will frequently be like this."
I became aware of Megan, who was fastening some sort of metal cage-like device onto my now limp cock.
"An erection is something we do not tolerate in a male slave unless it is by our command. Since we can't be bothered beating you for it constantly, that device will insure your obedience. When your dick is limp, it will be tolerably comfortable. But if you start to get a hard-on, those points on the inside will remind you immediately of who you belong to."
As she spoke, Megan finished fastening the cock cage and locked it. She then went to a cabinet and withdrew a large, life-like dildo with attached straps. She looked at me ominously as she began lubricating it.
Veronica began addressing me again. "Most males can think of little more than fucking. They are led in life by their dicks instead of what brains they have.
"That cage will keep your dick in line. The dildo will will be a reminder of who will be fucking whom as long as you are in our service."
With that message delivered, she nodded to Megan, who began working the dildo into my ass.
There was one sharp pain as the head popped in. As she pushed in the rest of its length, I shuddered, wondering if I would be split wide open. Somehow, with a considerable amount of effort, she succeeded in burying the entire thing inside me. I felt like the head of it was going to come out through my throat. As she buckled the straps and tightened them, it seemed to rise yet another inch inside me.
I had never felt so devastated. Strung up on my toes, spread wide open, my ass still in pain from being caned and now fully penetrated. And to make matters worse, my caged cock was now getting hard again. In seconds, the points inside the cage buried themselves in the entire length of my cock, causing me even more pain.
The frustration was amazing. The entire scene was taking my as-yet-unrealized submissive fantasies and force-feeding them to me in the flesh. With two full days of sexual abstinence behind me, I would have agreed to anything to have an orgasm. But the cage would immediately punish an erection, denying me even the right to be aroused. It was the ultimate tease. Or, so I thought. It was about to get much worse.
With a chuckle and a smile, Megan, watching my tortured cock and my pained face, said, "You know, I think he's enjoying getting fucked. He'll be ready for the chair soon."
"Yes, I agree. Let's leave him for awhile to think." With that, Veronica rose and started for the door, with Megan right behind her. Suddenly, Veronica stopped and, after a secretive exchange with Megan, returned to stand right in front of me. Megan went to a drawer and returned with what looked like a thick leather cone, with a hole at the top and several short chains at the bottom, joined with a ring. Opening it along one side, she showed me the sharp points lining the inner surface. Then, she fastened it around my balls. Veronica next showed me a large, spherical weight and wordlessly hung it from the ring on the device.
At once, my balls felt like they were being ripped from my body. The teeth inside the thing (I was to find out later it was called a parachute) dug into my scrotum, and with a good ten pounds of weight attached, it pulled my balls down several inches, stretching and compressing them most painfully.
The slight swinging motion from the weight added to the pain. I had just realized this, and tried to stop moving my hips, when Megan struck my ass with a large, heavy paddle.
With the surprise, I screamed in pain and literally danced in midair for several seconds. Unfortunately, this started the weight swinging wildly as it hung from my tortured balls. Gritting my teeth, I tried to stop my movements, but the weight continued to swing, adding to my pain.
"Now, let's leave him for awhile!", Veronica laughed, and Megan agreed. They exited quickly, leaving me with my pain. The weight continued swinging for some time.
I hung there silently, helpless in my pain. The more conventional part of my mind, as it receded into the background, tried to convince me I was in trouble. I was insane to permit myself to be subjugated and abused in such a fashion.
My deeper feelings came as a shock. In the midst of my suffering, my inner mind was calm, even secure. Being truly helpless to stop the proceedings, I was powerless to make any decisions. With the pain confirming my helplessness, somehow I felt more confident. I feared more pain, yet I recognized that what I had already survived was substantial. I was in competent hands, and I welcomed the opportunity to surrender even more of myself. Was it a death wish, or a yearning for a higher freedom? While I contemplated that paradox, my Mistresses entered.
They removed the parachute and its weight as well as my leg spreader. They left my cock cage in place.
Veronica began: "Now that you've had a small sample of punishment, you're going to find out a bit more about what services we require. Megan--bring out the chair."
She walked over to the side of the room and wheeled out a sturdy armchair mounted on rollers. A center section of the seat cushion was removed, revealing an opening almost like a potty seat. Below the front of the seat was a panel containing a neck-sized opening. She continued setting up the device by quickly assembling a framework attached to the front of the chair.
Minutes later, I was on my back, my neck locked in the opening, my face looking upward from beneath the seat, my head strapped in place. My wrist shackles were locked to the front of the chair's arms. My upper back and waist were strapped to some lightly padded metal supports, leaving most of my flesh exposed. My ankles were spread, drawn down and back, then attached below my ass. I was totally exposed.
Looking down at me, Veronica explained--"You will be trained to suck our pussies whenever, wherever and however we want. You will be made to build up your strength to be able to continue eating us for hours, or to service many of our friends in quick succession at parties. This chair will frequently be used.
"Much of the time, you will serve blindfolded--it is a privilege that we allow you to look at our pussies at this time. Sometimes, you'll even be gagged in the chair as a punishment. For now, though, we want you to lick and suck!"
Veronica sat on my face. Although the chair itself bore most of her weight, her cunt was very firmly planted upon my mouth with my nose buried in her vagina. A small amount of light sneaked in, allowing me to look into her asshole. Her scent was overwhelming: not perfumed, nor was she unclean; she was simply very aroused. As I reacted to her arousal, my cock began to swell once again, fighting the torturous cock cage and bringing me renewed pain.
I suddenly felt her spiked heels digging into my chest and abdomen and heard her command, "Suck it, pig! You're not supposed to just lie there trying to get a hard-on, you're supposed to suck cunt!" This was followed by a hard stroke from a cat-o-nine tails across my lower body. I began to suck.
The strokes were frequent and varied, and her heels seemed to dance over much of my body as I licked and sucked at her whim. Her demands were quite detailed as well as tiring. At times, my tongue would be exhausted, and the whip would begin anew. Somehow, when the pain was strong enough, my mouth would find new strength.
It became obvious to me that Megan was also stimulating Veronica, kissing her, sucking her tits, caressing her. Soon, the already generous flow of juice from Veronica's pussy into my mouth began to increase, and she pressed down even harder on my face, making it difficult to breathe. To make matters worse, Megan straddled my body, sitting on my chest. As Veronica's undulations became ever more strenuous, I would occasionally get a quick breath, but just as quickly she would bounce down hard on me, cutting off my air. Worse, my cock continued to harden and swell against the confining cage, increasing my pain. What little movements I could make in response were all transmitted directly to the massive dildo still filling my ass.
Eventually she came. Bouncing violently on my mouth and nose, sawing rapidly back and forth, she reached down and grabbed my nipples, squeezing hard and pulling with all her strength. She screamed in pleasure while I screamed in pain. Drowning in her juices, I had to swallow constantly as she came in my mouth.
Veronica rested, sated for the moment. I still had to work just to breathe, with her cunt still covering my face and Megan's weight on my chest. And I still had to cope with my tortured, encaged cock and a filled ass.
They both rose off my body, and I glorified in my renewed supply of air. They gloated a bit, enjoying my reddened face, soaked with Veronica's juices. Megan, spontaneously, quipped, "I think I'd like something a bit different--like a good fuck!"
I looked at her both curiously and yearningly--my cock still pulsed painfully in its rings--but she looked down at me and said, "Don't kid yourself. Your little dicky won't see that kind of pleasure for a long time."
She went to her cupboard and returned with an interesting toy. Essentially a cock gag, it filled my mouth with a lifelike rubber phallus. Extending out to its front was a similar, but larger, rubber cock nearly eight inches long.
They had to free my head briefly to strap the device onto me, but moments later Megan had me ready. I felt an extra pang of humiliation as they both smiled down at me, but it was short-lived, as Megan's pussy soon mounted the artificial cock and sunk down onto my waiting face.
Now, the frustration was even greater. Although I was buried in her crotch, immured in her scent, I could taste nothing. Beyond the pangs of my own denied arousal, I craved her taste. My mouth made sucking motions, but they were received only by a rubber cock. Even worse, I discovered myself unconsciously licking the fake cockhead, almost as if I wanted it to ejaculate in my mouth.
Megan bounced heavily on her rubber lover, buffeting my face, almost bruising me. Sadly, I could not do a thing to help or hurt the process--my mouth was a penetrated prisoner and my entire head was strapped down, immobilized. My performance was irrelevant. When she came, I quickly felt her juice running down my cheeks, out of the reach of my tongue.
Some minutes later, they attached a blindfold and removed my cock gag. One of them, now dressed, sat on the chair again, and I heard them discussing mundane matters, apparently over coffee. I soon realized it was Veronica who sat on my face, solely by her scent.
At one point, without thinking, I began moving my lips and tongue against her pantied pussy. Enraged, she rose and said, "How dare you lick my pussy without permission!" Quickly, she removed her panties, wiped her crotch and Megan's, then stuffed them in my mouth. Now pantiless, she resumed her seat, draping her short skirt neatly around my face and her vagina neatly around my nose.
For several hours I remained strapped into the chair. Occasionally, they would exchange seats. When Megan first took the chair, she removed Veronica's panties from my mouth before sitting down. She wore her own panties. Having been taught a lesson, I did not move my lips and tongue in her covered pussy, although it took an enormous amount of self-control to avoid doing so. Veronica replaced Megan, pantied again. I heard what sounded like a movie being played on the VCR, and I heard sounds like heavy breathing, indicating it was some sort of porn. Veronica rose, removed her panties and said, "Lick!" I licked, and swallowed as she came. Moments later, Megan replaced her, repeating the process.
Later in the evening, Megan took the chair and gave me quite a surprise--she had switched her usual thin, lacy panties for a pair of heavy cotton ones, and she had obviously pissed in them, soaking them completely. I moaned in humiliation, bringing forth a gale of laughter from them both. Megan rose slightly, grabbed and twisted my nipples, and said, "You may lick and suck!" It was a command, not an option. I licked and sucked, thru the thick cotton, now immured in the taste and smell of her piss. The panties held a great deal of her moisture and shielded her pussy quite effectively from my efforts. It took time, but I brought her off.
Eventually, I was released. My blindfold and dildo were removed, and I saw that my captors were dressed for bed, both wearing negligees. A collar was placed around my neck and padlocked, while my wrists were locked together in front of me.
I was brought on my knees to their bedroom where, still kneeling, I was made to lick each of their assholes thoroughly, inside and out. I was then permitted to give each pussy one single kiss. My collar was chained to the foot of the bed, and my Mistresses got into bed, making love for perhaps another hour before going to sleep. I suffered thru the night as I was, naked, shackled, on the bare floor, my cock still painfully caged and more sexually frustrated than I thought possible. Somehow, I slept.
I awoke the next morning to the taste of cunt. I had been blindfolded, my collar chain removed, my hands locked behind me. The pussy enveloping my face demanded to be licked and sucked, and I complied. I recognized it as Veronica's. Megan demanded the same service prior to their showering together.
An hour later, in their living room, my blindfold was again removed. My hands were chained in front of me, and I was allowed to make breakfast and coffee for the three of us. After receiving approval from my Mistresses, I was allowed to eat with my plate on the floor.
Following breakfast, a small wooden stool was brought out, and I was allowed to sit for a discussion about my future.
Veronica began: "Now that you've had a small sample of our hospitality, how do you feel about our offer?"
Still immersed in my role, and painfully aroused with my cock locked in the now fearsome cage, I was momentarily at a loss for words. They chuckled, and Megan said, "Just this once, speak freely. You are, perhaps, going to make a major commitment, and we must be sure you're serious and well-prepared for what will come."
Veronica added, "When we buy into a slave, we want our money's worth. We will not accept some poor, lost dick that will cave in on us after just a few months of abuse. Can you take it?"
"Yes." My own word shocked me, but as soon as I said it, I realized it was the truth. "Yes, I can take it. Considering your needs, as well as the investment you'll make in me, I would expect no less. I only hope you'll make some allowances for me temporarily, due to my lack of training and experience."
With a sadistic smirk, Veronica looked at Megan and asked, "Have you ever seen my arm tire when beating a slave? Smiling, Megan responded, "No." Veronica then said, "You'll get all the training concessions my right arm can provide. And if I wear out all my canes, I have a very well-stocked supplier."
I shuddered at that last part, but saw how stupid my original question was. Veronica now brought the exchange back to the main issue.
"We have decided to accept you, if you feel you can survive a steady diet of what you got last night. You have three choices: First, you can leave now, intact and free, and never return. Second, you can have forty-eight hours to think about it, on your own. If you take this option, the cock cage stays locked on until you return. If you remove it, the deal is off.
"Finally, you can commit to the deal now. If you do so, we'll allow you an orgasm now, on our terms, of course. We will then drive you to pick up your things, vacate your apartment and cut the rest of your ties with the outside world. Your freedom ends now and will never be restored. Decide!"
It took me all of ten seconds to think it over.
"I do not choose to run. If I don't follow thru on this, my life will be worthless. To take another forty-eight hours on the outside will only prolong my torture aimlessly while tempting me with a freedom I cannot enjoy. Please, Mistresses," at this, I returned to my knees, "...take me now, as your slave."
This brought smiles to both their faces. Veronica told Megan, "Prepare the slave for his orgasm!"
Megan brought out another unique item from their seemingly endless stock of implements. It was a wooden bar about four feet long, with eyebolts at its ends and an unusual clamp arrangement at its center, equipped with straps. She attached it firmly to the floor, then had me lay down on the floor with my head in the clamp. Straps were buckled in place, and my head was held immobile, much as it was in the chair. My wrist shackles were locked to the wide-spread eyebolts. Megan now stood over me, straddling my head and began unlocking my cock cage. Unfortunately, my view of Megan's glorious pussy, coupled with the anticipation of my first orgasm in over two days, gave me enough of an erection to tighten the cage over my cock, painfully so, making the cage impossible to remove.
"Veronica--he won't get rid of his stupid hard-on!"
"Well, whip it out of him, Megan!"
Her cat-o-nine tails began dancing its way across my chest, welting me, causing my erection to quickly shrivel. The cage was removed, and with a chuckle, Veronica suggested, "Now, let's beat his meat!" She produced her own cat, this one somewhat lighter, obviously designed for more delicate targets. She started using it on my cock, viciously, causing me to groan piteously. To my shock, it also brought back my erection.
Megan, out of my line of sight momentarily, had put a glove on her right hand. I didn't get a good look at it, but I thought I saw a glint of metal on its surface.
They exchanged positions. Veronica, now standing over me, blindfolded me and sat on my face. "You want to come, you'll suck us both off, first!" As I started sucking on Veronica's cunt, Megan firmly took hold of my cock using her special glove.
The glove was lined with numerous metal points which dug painfully into my cock-flesh. Already welted and reddened by Veronica's miniature cat, my cock was in agony quickly from this new torture. Nevertheless, I remained erect, totally aroused, caught in that unique paradox of pleasure-pain.
Veronica did not allow me to become distracted from my primary purpose. A few more strokes of her mini-cat on my nipples caused me to renew my efforts beneath her pussy with my lips and tongue.
"Megan, spread his legs!" It was difficult to hear Veronica's words as I slowly smothered under her rapidly juicing pussy, but there was no mistaking her meaning. Megan took my ankles, one at a time, and pulled them up and back severely, attaching the shackles to the same eyebolts which anchored my wrists. This spread my legs painfully wide, more than I thought possible. It also raised, opened and exposed my ass, while leaving my cock pointed down at my face.
Veronica started stiffening in pre-orgasmic spasms and quickly brought her mini-cat into play directly between my ass cheeks. My screams were muffled by her pussy, grinding ever harder into my face, juicing rapidly. Megan returned to her torturous stroking of my cock with her special glove. I sucked, swallowed and tried to breathe.
Finally, Veronica came. My nose was totally buried in her vagina while the folds of her cunt encased my lips, cutting off nearly all my air. I licked, sucked, even bit desperately at her clitoris, trying both to please her and bring her off before I blacked out. After an interminable time, her orgasm ended. A moment later, she rose slightly, allowing me the glorious pleasure of breathing freely once again.
Megan had stopped stroking me and handed Veronica the same large strap-on dildo that had penetrated me earlier. I was still blindfolded; I recognized it only when Veronica held it to my lips, commanding me to "Suck!" I sucked her rubber cock, lubricating it, knowing well where it would soon be thrust. As I heard Veronica strapping on the dildo, Megan took her seat upon my face. With a brief caress of her needlepointed glove on my nipples, my lips and tongue resumed their labors, now under Megan's cunt.
Veronica now began slowly but forcefully working the dildo into my ass. The pain was less now. The previous time wearing the dildo had stretched my asshole considerably, and the wide-spread position in which my legs were bound practically invited the penetration. Moments later, the artificial cock was fully buried in my ass, and Veronica started fucking me with it in earnest, her hips bottoming out against my ass-cheeks with every long, powerful stroke.
I moaned into Megan's cunt, muffled as I was. Her arousal was rapidly increasing as I began swallowing more and more of her juices. I moaned again as that damnable glove again started stroking my cock. And my ass was being thoroughly fucked, arousing me further as well.
Megan came. I sucked hard on her clit when I could, and alternately sucked a river of juice out of her cunt as she ground rapidly back and forth across my face. And between the torture glove stroking my cock and the dildo pumping my ass, my own orgasm finally approached.
With my balls tightening, my own preorgasmic flow already starting, Megan suddenly rose slightly and tore off my blindfold. I found myself staring straight into the head of my cock, barely twelve inches from my face. Veronica screamed, "Open wide, cocksucker! Come right in your own mouth!"
Megan's painful stroking of my cock intensified, while Veronica reached down and used my balls as a hand-hold as her own pumping increased in my ass. My mouth opened of its own accord, from both the pain and my extreme arousal. Now, with Megan's pussy inches above my face, the visual effects combined with the stimulation, the torture, the tastes and smells, not to mention the humiliation of what now approached, all of it pushed me over the edge.
I began to come. Megan aimed my cock well, shooting most of my sizable load directly into my mouth, the rest on my face. I screamed in orgasm and struggled hard against my restraints, but I was totally controlled. My first orgasm in two days, and the first while enslaved, it nearly had me blacking out.
When I recovered my breath and some of my wits, I realized Veronica and Megan had not moved. Megan still straddled my face. Veronica, although her hands no longer held my balls, still had the dildo buried in my ass.
My arms ached; my legs, stretched back and spread at an extreme angle, were in agony. Accustomed to freedom, I now longed to move, to resume a more comfortable posture. Veronica would have none of it. She said, "Swallow!"
A new wave of humiliation swept through me as I realized my mouth still held a sizable portion of my own load of come. Submissively, I swallowed. Megan then began using a finger to slowly wipe off the substantial amount of my come that still covered my face. Several times, she presented her finger to my mouth to be sucked clean.
Veronica unstrapped the dildo from her hips, leaving its length buried in my ass. She then retrieved the cock cage and quickly locked it back onto my now flaccid cock.
Megan now looked down at me and said, "Time to clean up!" She sat on my face yet again, this time to simply have her pussy cleaned by my lips and tongue. Veronica followed, but rode me to yet another orgasm before accepting my oral cleaning. By the time she finished, my cock was already starting to strain against its cage with another attempt at an erection.
The dildo was removed; my bonds were released. I was placed in relatively lenient restraints, my wrists and ankles each joined by almost two feet of chain. Veronica, reconsidering, attached the center of the wrist chain to my collar--"Just to keep you from playing with our property!" Her comment evoked a laugh from both of them, while reminding me of how much of me they already owned.
I was made to lick the dildo clean, then wash it, after which I put away all the equipment. I then assisted them in dressing. Megan wore a push-up bra which left the nipples exposed, a transparent G-string panty, seamed stockings with a garter belt and opera pumps with six-inch heels. Over it all, she wore a tight, low-cut blue spandex dress. Veronica chose a merry widow, stockings, boots which rose to mid-thigh and a red dress similar to Megan's.
I began to consider what, if anything, I would be permitted to wear. I knew that today, for the last time, I would see my old life once more and say goodbye to it. I knew I would not visit my landlord or my bank while naked and chained, but I had no idea how far my Mistresses would demand I go.
First, obviously, my cock cage remained in place. A small butt-plug was greased and placed in my ass, harnessed and locked in place. To my humiliation, my collar remained locked around my neck.
I was made to put on a pair of fishnet stockings and a garter belt. This was followed by a waist cincher which they fastened so tightly I could barely breathe. Megan, amused, said, "We've got to get a picture of this!" Veronica said, "There'll be plenty of time for that later. Let's finish buying our slave first."
They permitted me the shirt and pants I wore in, without the underwear. My shoes and socks covered my stockings. I soon realized that the butt-plug would keep me aroused throughout the day--every move I made caused it to slide in and out of my ass.
We rode in their station wagon. Although it provided seats for six, I was made to kneel on the floor on the passenger side, my head buried under Veronica's skirt. My hands were cuffed behind me until we arrived at my apartment.
Veronica and Megan both accompanied me inside. A check was written and given to the landlord, and we all proceeded into the apartment.
"Strip!" Veronica's command caught me off guard, and I looked questioningly. In explanation, she said, "This is now OUR apartment, not yours. Since you are on our property, you are not permitted to dress. Remove your shirt and pants; the rest may remain."
Moments later, I stood in what was once my own apartment, before my new owners and Mistresses, dressed in a waist cincher, garter belt, fishnet stockings, my own male shoes and socks, my collar, cock cage and butt plug harness. As I began to pack up my few remaining possessions, Megan commented, "You know, he really is a pig. Look at this dump!"
Veronica agreed. "I think a dozen strokes would be appropriate. Would you like to do the honors?"
Megan smiled. "My pleasure! Slave--stand in front of me, bend over and touch your toes. If you move, you'll be bound and take double the strokes!"
I don't know where the riding crop came from, but I took the dozen strokes on my already welted ass. I did not scream loudly, but I'm sure my neighbors would have heard the strokes if they were home. Of course, I would never again be in a position to find out.
I packed quickly, producing one box of papers, mementos and the few clothes my Mistresses would permit. Three more boxes, mostly other clothes and trash, were destined for the dumpster. Before moving the boxes, they made me sweep the floor and wash it, all on my knees, as they supervised with the crop.
Finally, with the apartment cleaned to their satisfaction, my clothes were restored. I was made to carry all the boxes, unassisted, while they accompanied, watching. The last box went into the back of the station wagon, and we departed.
Now, Veronica drove, and my head was buried under Megan's skirt. We made several more stops, at banks and, finally, the IRS. More checks were written, and my Mistresses alternating driving duty so they could take turns with my face. My hands remained cuffed behind my back throughout each drive, and my cock pulsed continuously, locked in its cage. The plug in my ass added to the arousal, and the feminine items concealed under my street clothes completed my humiliation. Even worse, my face bore their scent whenever we left the car. I knew it must have been obvious to people at our various stops. Combined with the collar, visible and locked around my neck, no one would mistake my status as a slave.
by Master Ivan, writing as "Mip the slave"
1994
Copyright © 1994
Master Ivan Press