The Week (Pt 1) by Master Ivan
Posted: Wed Jun 08, 2016 11:02 pm
The Week (Pt 1)
by Master Ivan
My name is Donna.
I had moved into the suburbs six months earlier. Now, one hundred miles from my former metropolitan city apartment, I was isolated.
The city was wide open. One could find anything one desired, from exotic food, unique clothes, high energy music, all the way down to a full panoply of erotic diversions. Often, I'd be one of the few women to patronize the local strip clubs or the adult movie theatres. I had an appetite for female lovers as well as males, and I indulged that appetite. With an attractive face, a full chest, a tight ass, legs that went on forever and an affinity for heels that should be worn only with a parachute, I had no problems in satisfying my every whim.
While ordinary sex with either gender was exquisite, even more memorable were my regular trysts with dominance. Numerous lovers were highly aroused by having their hands tied behind their backs and having their faces pulled forcibly into my pussy, there to service me with their mouths for hours on end. Occasionally, they would please me enough to earn the right to an orgasm themselves, administered by their own hands, while their lips and tongue continued to serve my pleasure. More frequently, they'd be denied pleasure, punished with a welted ass and sent away unsatisfied. And those were the lovers that crawled back the most regularly for repeat performances.
Don't get me wrong. My own penchant for submission was equally strong. While it was more difficult to find a confident, skilled dominant, I had a number of them over the years. Many nights, I would be chained hand and foot to my own bed, my ass filled with a sizable dildo, my nipples clamped, fresh welts administered, while I begged the guy to fuck my throat, or for a woman to grind her cunt in my face. In much the same way I treated my own slaves, many times I would remain in bondage overnight, serving regularly while denied myself, the only thing filling my own pussy being my juices, which flowed generously throughout those long nights.
My hunger for the rough action was insatiable. But now, drawn by professional necessity and a city life growing far too dangerous, I had moved into a neighborhood where the most popular local diversions were sponsored by the local churches and the trip into town was no longer feasible.
I scanned several newspapers for a hint of some action, without success. Equally dismal were some locally published magazines, which, while they printed personal ads, still reeked of the atmosphere of a church social. Then, I found it:
WM, 30's, sks F to whom
control is not an issue. I’ll
help you work out your knotty
problems. Write w/phone, Box
xxxx
After months of starvation, it looked like a promising oasis in this erotic desert. I tore off what few clothes I had on and brought myself to a quick but massive orgasm, right in the middle of the hardwood floor.
Without even rising from my knees, I grabbed pen and paper from the coffee table and wrote a letter. I described myself, my experiences, my current needs, even my initial reaction to his ad. It went on for some pages, and I didn't even realize how long I had written until I saw the clock and realized I had been writing for over two hours.
Not even fully cognizant of what I had written, I stuffed the numerous pages into an envelope and sealed it. Three days later, he called me.
"Hello?"
"Is this Miss Donna -----?" .
"Yes."
"I received your letter this morning. I was impressed with your openness and seeming honesty. Still, considering the risks inherent on both sides with activities of this nature, I must ask you, are you serious about what you desire?"
My pussy began to open and juice up. My nipples began to harden. Not able to remember half the details of my letter, my body answered for me. "Yes, totally."
"If that is so, I have a proposition for you. I can convert the fantasies of your letter into seven scenarios, incorporating all the activities you described. I can set up a week in which we can enact all of them in full. If you are open to it, we can even eliminate the customary social meetings and jump right into the fantasies at our first meeting. The decision is yours, but it must be a total commitment from the start."
Now, I felt real excitement. There was an element of danger, of mystery, and without knowing how far my own letter went, even the direction and scope of activity would be a surprise. I could not resist.
"Tell me your idea."
"Quite simply, on the week we do this, I will arrive each day at your home at a time of my choosing. You will provide me with a key to enter. I will then enact a fantasy based on your letter. Sometimes it will take place in your home, while on other visits you will be taken, sometimes forcibly, to another location. At times, other people will be involved, male and female, dominant friends of mine, or submissives like yourself.
"There will be times when the activity will be quite civilized. I will act with all due respect, nevertheless you will be subjected to sufficient force to ensure your cooperation and obedience. At other times, you'll quite literally be ambushed, perhaps not even able to see the faces of those assaulting you.
"For this reason, I will be sending you a document to sign. It will list the seven fantasies by title only and include a lengthy disclaimer. You will return it with both a key to your house and a good photograph by which you can be identified."
As I listened, I felt almost like I was in a dream. The line dividing fantasy from reality was growing more indistinct with time, and my arousal grew. The man must have heard my breathing accelerate.
"Donna! Are you listening to me?"
"Y-yes, Master"' I realized my use of the title only after it emerged. I said nothing to retract it.
"So tell me, Donna. Will you submit to a week of enslavement? Will you allow me and any other men I choose to penetrate your cunt, ass and mouth, to torture you with whips, clamps, needles, hot wax, even electric shock? Will you perform with other women at my command, and in any manner I choose? Will you expose your body, submit to restraint and confinement, drink my piss, in short, allow me to enact your fantasies in any way and to any depth I choose?"
As he spoke, my fingers found my clit. As he continued, I worked rapidly toward orgasm. As he finished, I came, and screamed, "Oh God, yes! Anything you say!"
I heard him laugh. He said, "Lick your fingers clean, cunt!"
I murmured, "Yes, Master!", and obeyed. He heard me through the phone.
"Watch for my letter. Sign the contract and return it immediately, with the key and photo. Our game will begin a week from this Sunday."
He hung up the phone.
For the next forty-eight hours, I was in a daze. At times, when I was engaged in mundane activities, I thought I was insane to take such chances with someone I had not yet even seen. Then, my body would take over. Or, the memory of his strong voice. Or the image of his hands on me. By the time his letter arrived, I was already committed. I had the photo, a nude polaroid, as well as the house key, ready to go. And I had set up to take a full week's vacation starting that Sunday. I removed my clothes and knelt in the middle of the floor again before opening the letter.
"Donna-
"If you sign this agreement, I will begin a series of daily visits to your home. Sometimes I will knock, sometimes I will enter at my will. Such visits may take place any time of the day or night, and will last as long as I desire them to last, perhaps through the entire night. Each visit will enact a different fantasy. Some may involve only you and I, while others will include other people. Once we start, you will not be permitted to withdraw, so think carefully before you sign."
"I have broken down your lengthy list of fantasies into the following scenarios:
1. Men's Club
2. Wilderness Capture
3. Gang Rape
4. Enslaved Whore
5. Captured Spy
6. Mexican Prison
7. Slave-Girl
"The only clue you will have to what scene is about to take place is that you will see or hear a key word of its title at or shortly after its beginning. Even so, you will not be allowed to withdraw once the week starts. Consider carefully. Once the contract is in our hands, you will be committed for the duration.
"Sunday. Be ready."
The letter was unsigned.
I signed the agreement, dressed, and ran to the mailbox.
Sunday afternoon, I did some shopping. I returned home at about 2:30 and took a long shower. I dried off quickly, noticing the time was already 3:15. I stepped out of the bathroom, turned toward my bedroom and saw it.
Next to the bedroom door, a small card was taped to the wall. It read, "Gang Rape".
For a split second, I panicked. I screamed and raised one foot to initiate a run to, well, I don't know where.
A cloth bag dropped over my head, and something tightened around my throat to hold it there. I could feel something like a rigid pole attached to the throat loop, forcing me to the floor, face-down. Hands forced my arms behind my back, handcuffed my wrists, then pulled my elbows together with a tight leather strap. Another man sat on my legs, immobilizing me. Only then did someone remove the bag, replacing it with a wide leather collar.
There were six of them. Three were white, two black, and the last one I could not place, possibly an Arab. They laughed, then quickly leashed my collar and dragged me into the living room. Once, I attempted to run, to resist, but a hard tug on my leash and a vicious hand slap to my naked ass quickly steered me back on course.
My hardwood floor again received my naked body. But now, it was not in the context of fantasy. There were six strong, forceful men who already had me naked and helpless and who would work their will with me come hell or high water.
They produced an object designed to keep my legs spread far apart. It was a metal rod, some two feet long, with leather straps at each end. As one of the men held my shoulders to the floor, on my back, two others lifted and separated my ankles painfully wide. Quickly, a fourth man stood between my legs and buckled the straps to my knees. Now, my very cunt and ass gaped wide open, and I could do nothing to protect my modesty.
I was flipped over. My ass was raised in the air as I knelt, my face was lowered to the floor. Suddenly, a blindfold was placed over my eyes. Now, I could see nothing, while there was no part of me that was not revealed to the six men.
It was time for the rape itself to start in earnest. A cock plunged into my cunt from behind. He buried himself to the hilt on the first stroke, and my open, already well-lubricated cunt offered no resistance. I went into orgasm almost instantly, crying out in pleasure.
My open mouth must have been attractive to another man, as he hauled my head up by the hair and drove into me. My throat opened easily to him, and as my second orgasm rapidly built, he shot his load on my face. Thr first man came shortly thereafter, and seconds after they both withdrew another pair started. This time my cunt was left idle, as my ass and mouth were the targets for the third and fourth cocks of the evening.
Now, my cunt felt wantonly empty as I was forced to serve without receiving pleasure in return. Thr mere ten minutes of that ordeal was not particularly difficult to endure, but the night was still young.
The next pair sandwiched me, penetrating my as first, then my cunt. With both my lower holes filled, I came explosively several times, screaming in pleasure-pain.
I had taken on all six men, two in each hole. While they recovered, I was left bound in the middle of the floor for a fair time. I heard them laughing, pouring drinks from my stock of liquor, and even planning openly how they would use me for future rounds.
They took me three at a time, next. Ass, then cunt, then mouth, all three holes were filled. My bonds remained, keeping my entire body available both for the thorough fucking it would receive and for their hands, which caressed, pinched, probed and slapped me at will. The first trio came almost together, after nearly twenty minutes of work. The other three followed in like manner, after which I was again left in the middle of the floor, still bound, dripping come from all three of my openings.
Again, the long wait. The sound of drinks. The obscene conversation, of which I was the main topic. I surveyed my own body: my arms were numb, my legs ached, my ass was sore. And my cunt, open to the air and to the gaze of the men, still hungered for more!
The next round started. Now, my pleasure would have to wait. They took me one at a time, all in the ass. Each one opened my ass a little wider, until I could feel the very air currents in the room inside of me when they pulled out. By now, I was exhausted, but they insisted on my active participation. Even bound as I was, they demanded that I move my ass to bring them off and squeeze their cocks with my muscles to increase their pleasure. Whenever they sensed a lack of effort, their slaps brought me quickly to heel. Soon, as their hands grew sore, they substituted a leather belt and began welting my ass-cheeks in earnest.
As each one finished, he came to my mouth to be cleaned. Each stayed in my mouth until the next was ready to follow.
It had been close to six hours since they started, and all had come three times. Suddenly, I recognized the voice of my Master, as I thought of him.
"Slut! You are now going to come for our entertainment. Still, you must pay for the privilege. Beg me to clamp your nipples!"
His very voice reawakened my arousal. My cunt, still held wide open by my leg spreader, was full of juice, and little of it was the men's come. "Please, Master, clamp my nipples, and do with me what you will!"
Still blindfolded, I did not see the clamps. My nipples erupted in pain, and I screamed. Something penetrated my ass, but it wasn't a live cock. Something else, larger than any of their cocks, forced its way into my already stretched cunt. I felt straps being buckled, holding in the two massive dildos. I moaned in frustration.
My blindfold was removed. I was on my back, still bound, now doubly penetrated. I was covered with come, and well-marked. The men surrounded me, clothed and comfortable in my living room chairs. One, not my Master, spoke:
"You will remain as you are until such a time as you beg one of us to piss in your mouth. When you begin drinking from his cock, your dildos will be turned on, and you will be allowed pleasure. Until then, we will wait. Should our arousal return first, we will use your mouth exclusively."
I was already on the edge. At that moment, I would have begged anyone for anything. I did not hesitate.
"Please, Masters, will one of you please piss in my mouth?"
The utter humiliation passed through me like a wave. I felt it as a physical pulse throughout my body, with echos starting every time I met the eyes of any of the six men watching me. One of the men drinking a beer straight from its can, stood before me. He quickly finished off the beer, then pulled out his soft cock.
From my knees, I opened my mouth. My mortification increased as I tasted his cock, knowing what was about to happen. He started to piss.
The taste hit me like a brick wall. Still seeing the eyes of the other five men watching, I began to swallow. Then, both my dildos started vibrating. I moaned, screamed around the cock in my mouth, in between swallowing his piss, as the orgasm swept me into uncharted realms of pleasure. I vaguely remember licking and sucking him gently as he finished and withdrew, still coming myself. Then, I remember nothing.
I awoke in my own bed. I had been bathed, soothed, powdered and laid down in my own bed all while out cold and dead to the world. I rose briefly and found the house immaculate. There was no evidence of my visitors except for some missing liquor and the welts on my ass. I returned to bed, and after masturbating to one more quick orgasm, slept.
* * *
The following afternoon, I received a telegram:
"Donna ------:
"You are cordially invited to spend an evening at the Gentlemen's Club of DuPaul St. We will send a car to pick you up at 7 PM. Be ready."
It was unsigned.
I dressed in stockings and garters, a severe, low cut black dress and my highest opera pumps.
At 7 PN sharp, there was a knock on my door. A chauffeur stood there with a limo parked out front. "Your ride, Miss."
He escorted me to the limo. He seated me, then produced a pair of handcuffs. "Behind your back, please." I submitted to the handcuffs, and my wrists were locked behind my back. A velvet blindfold followed, and I became conscious of the exposure of my dress. I had brought no wrap, and with my arms pulled back, my cleavage was displayed in great depth. We rode in silence for a time.
The car parked. The door opened, and I felt a leather collar fastened around my neck. A leash was attached, whereupon the chauffeur helped me out of the car. As we stood, he spoke briefly: "Forgive me, Miss, but your dress must be removed before we enter."
Handcuffed, blindfolded, collared and leashed, I responded, "Of course."
Soon, effectively naked, I was led through the open air, observed by eyes I could not see, into the club.
We moved through several rooms, and I heard numerous voices, all male, engaged in casual, polite conversation. There were some occasional female moans as well; I would not be the only woman present.
I was forced to my knees. My collar was removed and replaced by another, much wider collar, this one attached to some fixed object. I would not be moving my head. My knees were separated and strapped, wide apart, to the floor. My handcuffs were raised behind me and clipped in position, holding my arms up parallel to the floor.
Something nudged at my lips. Something warm, with a bit of moisture at its end. A hard, erect cock was seeking entry to my mouth. I opened, submissively, and swallowed it into my throat as it began pumping my face.
He fucked my mouth for several minutes before withdrawing only long enough to spray part of his load on my face and breasts. As I groaned in arousal, he again plunged into my mouth for his cleaning. Only then was my blindfold removed.
"Good evening, Donna." It was my Master.
"For you, it is day two. You will spend most of the evening here, bound as you are, serving exclusively with your mouth. If you serve well, you might earn some rewards. Should you prove recalcitrant, or in any way unsatisfactory, there are numerous methods available to punish you, as you can see."
With no further explanations, he turned and vanished. Quickly, I scanned the room. There was a bar, staffed by a pair of nude women, with several more women bearing trays around the room. All were collared, most chained, and some wore leather or steel accessories I could not identify.
My collar had been fastened to a heavy steel beam, some three feet long, extending horizontally from a similar beam mounted vertically, anchored solidly to the floor. There were two others like it in the room, both occupied. One of the women sported painful-looking nipple clamps, the other had still another girl strapped to the floor beneath her, administering a "Reward" with lips and tongue. Then, my view was blocked as another man unzipped right in front of me and buried his cock in my throat.
A few minutes later, I swallowed my second load of the night, and I had a brief look at one of the serving girls as she was being suspended by her wrists. As my next customer plowed into my face, I heard the distinct crack of a whip on flesh and heard her scream.
I was used continuously, always in the mouth. My arousal grew, my nipples hardened, my cunt remained untouched. All I was to be was a mouth, a receptacle for the cocks of all who wanted to use me. None spoke, none touched me except for an occasional grip on my hair. I tired soon, as, some two hours into my near-continuous ordeal, with my juice running all the way down my thighs, the man using my throat pulled out and glared angrily.
I looked at him, fearful, as he reached into the pocket of his expensive tweed suitcoat. He withdrew a pair of vicious nipple clamps and quickly applied them to my outthrust tits. I screamed with the initial pain, as he said, "Now, perhaps you'll be more cautious with your teeth!"
He returned to my mouth. I sucked him carefully, dutifully, cleaning him well when I finished swallowing his come.
It went on another hour before the next interruption. Another gentleman felt my lips and tongue, as exhausted as they were, did not show sufficient effort. Suddenly, I felt weights added to my tit-clamps, as my nipples were drawn down painfully several inches. Moaning in renewed pain, I returned to my duty, suffering throughout.
Another hour passed. At midnight, a spotlight was turned on the center of the floor. By this time, I noticed a number of other girls bound in various positions around the room. One was suspended by her spread ankles against a wall, another hung by her wrists, still another on her toes with her arms pulled behind a bar and fastened at her waist. That last bore over a dozen clothespins on each of her breasts. I cried, tortured by my mere pair of weighted clamps, fearful of what might happen.
A pillory was moved to the middle of the room. It confined the neck and wrists of a nude beauty some three feet above floor level. Her ankles were drawn up and spread wide by ropes lowered from the ceiling. After the brief announcement that she had been caught with her fingers in her own pussy, she was lashed brutally on her cunt by a cat-o-nine tails. She remained in her semi-suspension for a full hour, serving with her mouth as I did.
The endless parade of erect cocks resumed using my own mouth and throat. I had long since lost count, and I found my jaw muscles were so stretched by the effort that it was difficult to close my mouth. I had swallowed so much come, I was bloated.
Again, there was a brief interruption. The suffering beauty in front of me was fitted with a huge dildo to fill her ass, then locked into a chastity belt. Only then was she lowered to the floor. To my surprise, she was made to lie beneath me, my own flooded cunt resting on her face. She was strapped to the floor, whipped again briefly, and ordered to suck my cunt.
She complied, obediently, as another cock found my mouth. Moments later, I achieved my own first orgasm of the night, my first reward. Unfortunately, the man pumping my mouth detected a distraction in my service, and added more weights to the clamps on my already tortured nipples. I began to learn to control my reactions.
It was nearly 2 AM before the line thinned and ended. My nipple clamps were removed, and I screamed my lungs out at the resultant agony, until a pair of hands slowly massaged them, bringing life back into them. Aroused again, I ground my cunt into the face of the punished girl still fastened beneath me for one last orgasm. My still-handcuffed wrists were lowered, my other bonds released, the collar I wore earlier was replaced, and my blindfold refastened. The leash once again found my collar's ring, and the chauffeur's voice requested, "Come with me, Miss."
Tottering blindly now on my heels, I followed his lead to the car and was brought home. On the way out, I found that my services to the men had indeed been counted. In just over six hours, I had sucked off just over fifty men.
* * *
I hadn't slept even two hours when I heard the crash. Someone had broken through the back door. I jumped up, still naked, in bed, and saw that the clock read 5 AM. It was still dark.
My Master appeared, dressed in a suit and overcoat. There were three others with him, all with flashlights. The lights were all pointed in my face. He approached me showing a badge, which read, "Interpol". Immediately, I said, this is crazy..."
"Miss, you are under arrest. You have been identified as an escapee from the Federal prison in Aguascalientes, Mexico. These officers will bring you to a holding station a few miles away, there to await transport back to Mexico."
"No-o-o!"
I was grabbed, handcuffed while still naked, and literally carried out into a waiting car.
The holding station was deep in the woods. There was indeed a cellblock, into which I was dragged screaming. They literally used a fire hose to clean me, then completed the ritual with a de-lousing treatment. Too fast to follow, I was brought to a blacksmith where my wrists and ankles were shackled with riveted steel and chains that must have weighed twenty pounds.
To my shock, there were other women prisoners, nearly a dozen of them. That small portion of my mind which still remembered the real world thought, "They couldn't be hired actors. They must have all had this fantasy!" Then I noticed--several of them had masses of welts on their flesh. And now, the guards were approaching me.
They seized my wrist-chain and dragged me to the center of the yard. A hook was connected to my chain and I was hoisted into the air.
The whip was one made of leather straps four feet long, all attached to a wooden rod an additional three feet in length. It would be brutal.
"Two dozen for attempted escape!"
The first stroke landed full on my back, knocking the wind out of me and spinning me around. I screamed continuously, as the lash continued to fall non-stop. No part of my body was spared; from back to shins, breasts to thighs, all my flesh suffered. Worse, when the flogging was over, I was kept hanging for what must have been at least half an hour in front of the other assembled prisoners before we were assigned a work detail. When they did lower me, I collapsed into a ball, whereupon they cut at me repeatedly with their smaller whips until I joined the line.
It was not until we were marched into the woods that I noticed most of the other girls were at least somewhat covered. They wore old, torn smocks, low-cut, sleeveless, with skirts reaching only their upper thighs. It took only a slight bend at the waist or a light breeze to discover that none were allowed underwear.
All were barefoot. There were two others beside myself that were naked. One of these wore some sort of leather device locked into her crotch. From her walk, it was clear the device penetrated her lower openings and tortured her with every step she took.
It would be forced labor for us all. The sun was rising as we arrived at a section of woods being cleared for a road. Trees had been felled, and we had to move the logs away after they had been cut into four foot sections, each weighing anywhere from fifty to over a hundred pounds.
Our wrist shackles were locked behind our backs. The trailing chain was nailed to the end of each log, and we were forced to drag them. The route was uphill along a rough, rocky path somewhat over a quarter of a mile long. All along the path, the overseers watched us, lashing out with their whips if we dared to slow. Their hands were busy as well. If we hadn't earned the lash with our efforts, they were free with a caress, a pinch or a quick penetration of our lower holes.
Soon, the sun rose high, and the heat of the day began to build. We all sweated heavily, and weakened. We were only allowed water at the top of the hill, in limited quantities, and only if we arrived with our cargo intact. It was not long before we began to stumble and fall.
On my first fall, they bent me over the very log I carried, my ass in the air, and gave me a dozen lashes with a quirt. Immediately, one of the men raped my ass. I was then made to resume my trip. I saw other women similarly used, in their ass, cunt or mouth, sometimes by two or three of the men in succession.
We worked non-stop until noon, when we were fed. Soup, cold meat and some crusty bread was our lunch, with our wrists unlocked from behind our backs to allow us to eat. The heavy chains remained attached. Two women were singled out as slackers, and were lashed. The rest had their smocks torn from their bodies. Now, all of us would be forced to work in the nude.
The man in charge of the work detail made an announcement.
"Your work has been lazy and slow. You're not coming even close to making your quotas. To speed you up, you will no longer drag the logs, but carry them across your shoulders for the remainder of the day. At sundown, the girl with the lowest total will be severely punished. Now, back to work!"
A dozen naked, shackled, already exhausted women ran down the hill under the lash. Now, two men picked up each log, set it across our shoulders and used a pair of nails to fix our chains to it. Our arms were forced to support the logs by bending back severely, and the pain in our naked shoulders from the rough bark would torture us for the afternoon.
Needless to say, all of us were raped, all of us were whipped repeatedly, and all of us spent the most agonizing day of our lives. Still, it was not over.
The totals were read off. The girl with the highest was allowed to sleep in peace, chained in her cell. The girls in the middle range would be used through the night by the guards.
To my horror, my total was the lowest.
I was already too weak to scream. I sobbed, pleading for mercy as I was dragged to my doom in the center of the clearing. It was another log, perhaps three or four inches in diameter, supported a few feet in the air. I was made to straddle it, and my ankle shackles, freed from their connecting chain, were dragged out tightly to either side. This opened me painfully wide and brought my weight down hard on my cunt upon the rough log. Already suffering in earnest, I cried, then stared with horror as two men carried out another log.
It was placed upon my shoulders, and my wrists were attached to it. It was heavier than any I carried all day, probably weighing more than I did. I found my strength and began to scream, my cunt now in ever-greater agony, as one of the overseers approached me with a cat-o-nine tails.
He whipped my breasts. A half dozen strokes, all welting on contact. I screamed, and screamed, and screamed.
I did not remember passing out, or being released, or being laid down in the car trunk and brought home. I awoke with my Master, still in his Interpol character, who announced that my identity had been mistaken and I was freed. He fed and bathed me, massaged me, and put me to bed.
* * *
I awoke at noon, having slept well over twelve hours. I was sore, welted and still not ready to believe the previous three days. With another four days left to go, I shuddered, trying to remember what I could of the titles for each day which would be my only clues. I had made it through "Gang Rape", "Men's Club" and "Mexican Prison". Now, I could remember none of the others, except that I would be forced to submit to them all.
I took a slow bath, pampering my body. My memories of the prior days aroused me, and I wanted to masturbate, but I held off, not having any idea what I would be subjected to today.
I dressed in a nightgown, ate a light breakfast, then sat and waited.
My Master arrived at 5, dressed as a chauffeur. With him was an exquisitely beautiful black woman, dressed to arouse any man who came near her.
"Up and at-em, bitch! Time to get back to work!"
"Wh-who are you?"
My Master handed me, would you believe, a business card. It read, "The House of Madame Bournier".
"Bad enough you didn't show for three days, now you're laying around doing nothing, when you're supposed to be laying my customers! You've earned at least a licking to begin with; don't make it worse! Turn around!"
I knew I'd be handcuffed, even before I felt the metal locked around my wrists. As I turned again to face them, I became conscious of the near-total exposure of the transparent nightgown I wore. My heat began to rise. I noted I had only been fucked once during the previous day's ordeal, and that in the ass.
It was a more traditional whorehouse, an anachronism in today's world of out-call and escort services. I was brought to a small room, stripped and collared, then chained on my knees on the floor, my wrists still locked behind my back.
"In this place, when you work, you get rewarded. When you slack off, you get the day you just bought. Today, you're our ass and mouth girl. All your tricks will be told your cunt is off limits. You'll suck every one of them hard, then give them your ass to fuck. When they finish, you'll suck them clean. It's 7 PM now; I'll check in on you at midnight. If you perform well, you'll get rewarded. If not, you'll do some real rough trade in the basement until sunrise!" With that, she walked out, slamming the door behind her.
I waited an hour before my first customer, chained as I was. The man entered, revealed a soft cock and used my mouth. When I had sucked him hard, he roughly bent me over and, using the chain on my handcuffs as a hand-hold, pulled my ass onto his cock. I screamed once as he penetrated me, and once more as he slapped my welted asscheeks, but I had him coming in minutes. Walking around me, he pulled my head up by the hair and forced me to clean him, as prescribed, by mouth. As I tasted and swallowed the remnants of my ass mixed with his come, I could feel his load dripping out of my ravaged asshole. In five hours, I was used the same way by fifteen men.
At midnight, the lady of the house returned.
"You've done well, slut. There have been no complaints on your submissiveness and cooperation. There have, however, been some complaints about your ass. I don't know what you've done with yourself since leaving our house, but your back door is loose enough to drive through!"
At that, I reddened. It was true, and I could still feel the steady drip of come from my well-opened ass.
"No matter. From now until the end of your shift, you'll serve exclusively with your mouth. That is, unless you earn still more punishment."
With that, she was gone.
During the next hour and a half, I sucked off half a dozen men in a row. The last one was built like a horse, and even with the practice I'd had with my throat, I could not handle his extreme length and breadth without gagging. He stormed out angrily and returned with Madame Bournier and two other women.
"Lazy cunt! You don't appreciate easy duty. Now, you'll find out about doing it the hard way. Bring her to the basement!"
I was forced to remain on my knees, crawling all the way. Even on the stairs, I had to remain kneeling, descending backwards.
There were several girls in punishment already, all naked. Two were in cells, wrists chained high above them, standing on tip-toe. Both were gagged; one had her breasts bound extremely tight with thin wire. Another was hogtied in a small kennel, lying on a pad covered with short blunt studs. She moaned through her gag, suffering. Still another hung by her joined wrists and ankles. Her ass and thighs were severely welted, and come dripped from both her lower holes.
I was bound to a specialized rack of sorts. A bar supported my back under my breasts, and leather straps criss-crossed my tits, squeezing them hard and making them stand out from my chest begging for punishment. My wrists were locked in position beneath the rack. My head hung down and rested in a brace, a strap over my forehead holding it in place. This forced my mouth to remain open and opened my throat at the ideal angle for deep penetration. My ankles were raised and opened wide, opening my lower holes. Still, this was just the setup, not the punishment.
My ass rested on a metal plate covered with short needlepoints. As soon as my ass hit it, the pain forced me to raise it again, in an obscene parody of copulation. Worse, the Madame threw a switch, and moments later, I felt the metal beginning to heat.
The offended man with the oversized cock walked to my cunt. He thrust within me, tearing his way in. I screamed with the pain, then screamed again as his weight forced my ass down onto the heated needles. Reacting to the pain, I thrust back up hard, burying him even deeper. We got into a rhythm, with his thrusts causing my uncontrolled rebounds each time from the hot pincushion supporting my ass. Now, he was pleased. My pain was helping his arousal.
"Enough! Don't let her come!" It was the Madame. The gentleman withdrew and came to my bound face. As I moaned my frustration, the man plunged hard into my throat. Now, there was no resistance. I was bound to be open to him, gagging or not. My only option available was the use of my tongue. Needless to say, I tasted much of my own juice, and his as well a moment later.
The bed of needles under my ass had fully heated. Now, even without the sharp points, it would have been painful to the touch. With no one touching me, my cunt continued its obscene pumping of the air itself, to avoid the torture.
Another man entered. No, two men. The first used my cunt, driving my ass violently into the hot points. Given no time to scream, the other man used my mouth. I was brought to orgasm in spite of myself, but my afterglow was totally overridden by the continued torture of my ass and the rape of my mouth and cunt. Both men came in minutes; the one at my cunt got his cleaning from my lips and tongue.
With Madame's help, I had found my niche. I remained bound in the rack until 5 AM, and was used almost continuously.
My nightgown was returned, my wrists locked behind my back, and I was driven home.
This night, I was not pampered. Master, still in his chauffeur role, made me kneel on my living room floor, still handcuffed and dressed only in my transparent nightgown.
"Forgive me, Miss. One of the perogatives of my position."
He used my mouth, finishing quickly. He then unlocked my wrists, said "Goodnight, Miss", and left me on the floor, my face covered with his come.
* * *
by Master Ivan
My name is Donna.
I had moved into the suburbs six months earlier. Now, one hundred miles from my former metropolitan city apartment, I was isolated.
The city was wide open. One could find anything one desired, from exotic food, unique clothes, high energy music, all the way down to a full panoply of erotic diversions. Often, I'd be one of the few women to patronize the local strip clubs or the adult movie theatres. I had an appetite for female lovers as well as males, and I indulged that appetite. With an attractive face, a full chest, a tight ass, legs that went on forever and an affinity for heels that should be worn only with a parachute, I had no problems in satisfying my every whim.
While ordinary sex with either gender was exquisite, even more memorable were my regular trysts with dominance. Numerous lovers were highly aroused by having their hands tied behind their backs and having their faces pulled forcibly into my pussy, there to service me with their mouths for hours on end. Occasionally, they would please me enough to earn the right to an orgasm themselves, administered by their own hands, while their lips and tongue continued to serve my pleasure. More frequently, they'd be denied pleasure, punished with a welted ass and sent away unsatisfied. And those were the lovers that crawled back the most regularly for repeat performances.
Don't get me wrong. My own penchant for submission was equally strong. While it was more difficult to find a confident, skilled dominant, I had a number of them over the years. Many nights, I would be chained hand and foot to my own bed, my ass filled with a sizable dildo, my nipples clamped, fresh welts administered, while I begged the guy to fuck my throat, or for a woman to grind her cunt in my face. In much the same way I treated my own slaves, many times I would remain in bondage overnight, serving regularly while denied myself, the only thing filling my own pussy being my juices, which flowed generously throughout those long nights.
My hunger for the rough action was insatiable. But now, drawn by professional necessity and a city life growing far too dangerous, I had moved into a neighborhood where the most popular local diversions were sponsored by the local churches and the trip into town was no longer feasible.
I scanned several newspapers for a hint of some action, without success. Equally dismal were some locally published magazines, which, while they printed personal ads, still reeked of the atmosphere of a church social. Then, I found it:
WM, 30's, sks F to whom
control is not an issue. I’ll
help you work out your knotty
problems. Write w/phone, Box
xxxx
After months of starvation, it looked like a promising oasis in this erotic desert. I tore off what few clothes I had on and brought myself to a quick but massive orgasm, right in the middle of the hardwood floor.
Without even rising from my knees, I grabbed pen and paper from the coffee table and wrote a letter. I described myself, my experiences, my current needs, even my initial reaction to his ad. It went on for some pages, and I didn't even realize how long I had written until I saw the clock and realized I had been writing for over two hours.
Not even fully cognizant of what I had written, I stuffed the numerous pages into an envelope and sealed it. Three days later, he called me.
"Hello?"
"Is this Miss Donna -----?" .
"Yes."
"I received your letter this morning. I was impressed with your openness and seeming honesty. Still, considering the risks inherent on both sides with activities of this nature, I must ask you, are you serious about what you desire?"
My pussy began to open and juice up. My nipples began to harden. Not able to remember half the details of my letter, my body answered for me. "Yes, totally."
"If that is so, I have a proposition for you. I can convert the fantasies of your letter into seven scenarios, incorporating all the activities you described. I can set up a week in which we can enact all of them in full. If you are open to it, we can even eliminate the customary social meetings and jump right into the fantasies at our first meeting. The decision is yours, but it must be a total commitment from the start."
Now, I felt real excitement. There was an element of danger, of mystery, and without knowing how far my own letter went, even the direction and scope of activity would be a surprise. I could not resist.
"Tell me your idea."
"Quite simply, on the week we do this, I will arrive each day at your home at a time of my choosing. You will provide me with a key to enter. I will then enact a fantasy based on your letter. Sometimes it will take place in your home, while on other visits you will be taken, sometimes forcibly, to another location. At times, other people will be involved, male and female, dominant friends of mine, or submissives like yourself.
"There will be times when the activity will be quite civilized. I will act with all due respect, nevertheless you will be subjected to sufficient force to ensure your cooperation and obedience. At other times, you'll quite literally be ambushed, perhaps not even able to see the faces of those assaulting you.
"For this reason, I will be sending you a document to sign. It will list the seven fantasies by title only and include a lengthy disclaimer. You will return it with both a key to your house and a good photograph by which you can be identified."
As I listened, I felt almost like I was in a dream. The line dividing fantasy from reality was growing more indistinct with time, and my arousal grew. The man must have heard my breathing accelerate.
"Donna! Are you listening to me?"
"Y-yes, Master"' I realized my use of the title only after it emerged. I said nothing to retract it.
"So tell me, Donna. Will you submit to a week of enslavement? Will you allow me and any other men I choose to penetrate your cunt, ass and mouth, to torture you with whips, clamps, needles, hot wax, even electric shock? Will you perform with other women at my command, and in any manner I choose? Will you expose your body, submit to restraint and confinement, drink my piss, in short, allow me to enact your fantasies in any way and to any depth I choose?"
As he spoke, my fingers found my clit. As he continued, I worked rapidly toward orgasm. As he finished, I came, and screamed, "Oh God, yes! Anything you say!"
I heard him laugh. He said, "Lick your fingers clean, cunt!"
I murmured, "Yes, Master!", and obeyed. He heard me through the phone.
"Watch for my letter. Sign the contract and return it immediately, with the key and photo. Our game will begin a week from this Sunday."
He hung up the phone.
For the next forty-eight hours, I was in a daze. At times, when I was engaged in mundane activities, I thought I was insane to take such chances with someone I had not yet even seen. Then, my body would take over. Or, the memory of his strong voice. Or the image of his hands on me. By the time his letter arrived, I was already committed. I had the photo, a nude polaroid, as well as the house key, ready to go. And I had set up to take a full week's vacation starting that Sunday. I removed my clothes and knelt in the middle of the floor again before opening the letter.
"Donna-
"If you sign this agreement, I will begin a series of daily visits to your home. Sometimes I will knock, sometimes I will enter at my will. Such visits may take place any time of the day or night, and will last as long as I desire them to last, perhaps through the entire night. Each visit will enact a different fantasy. Some may involve only you and I, while others will include other people. Once we start, you will not be permitted to withdraw, so think carefully before you sign."
"I have broken down your lengthy list of fantasies into the following scenarios:
1. Men's Club
2. Wilderness Capture
3. Gang Rape
4. Enslaved Whore
5. Captured Spy
6. Mexican Prison
7. Slave-Girl
"The only clue you will have to what scene is about to take place is that you will see or hear a key word of its title at or shortly after its beginning. Even so, you will not be allowed to withdraw once the week starts. Consider carefully. Once the contract is in our hands, you will be committed for the duration.
"Sunday. Be ready."
The letter was unsigned.
I signed the agreement, dressed, and ran to the mailbox.
Sunday afternoon, I did some shopping. I returned home at about 2:30 and took a long shower. I dried off quickly, noticing the time was already 3:15. I stepped out of the bathroom, turned toward my bedroom and saw it.
Next to the bedroom door, a small card was taped to the wall. It read, "Gang Rape".
For a split second, I panicked. I screamed and raised one foot to initiate a run to, well, I don't know where.
A cloth bag dropped over my head, and something tightened around my throat to hold it there. I could feel something like a rigid pole attached to the throat loop, forcing me to the floor, face-down. Hands forced my arms behind my back, handcuffed my wrists, then pulled my elbows together with a tight leather strap. Another man sat on my legs, immobilizing me. Only then did someone remove the bag, replacing it with a wide leather collar.
There were six of them. Three were white, two black, and the last one I could not place, possibly an Arab. They laughed, then quickly leashed my collar and dragged me into the living room. Once, I attempted to run, to resist, but a hard tug on my leash and a vicious hand slap to my naked ass quickly steered me back on course.
My hardwood floor again received my naked body. But now, it was not in the context of fantasy. There were six strong, forceful men who already had me naked and helpless and who would work their will with me come hell or high water.
They produced an object designed to keep my legs spread far apart. It was a metal rod, some two feet long, with leather straps at each end. As one of the men held my shoulders to the floor, on my back, two others lifted and separated my ankles painfully wide. Quickly, a fourth man stood between my legs and buckled the straps to my knees. Now, my very cunt and ass gaped wide open, and I could do nothing to protect my modesty.
I was flipped over. My ass was raised in the air as I knelt, my face was lowered to the floor. Suddenly, a blindfold was placed over my eyes. Now, I could see nothing, while there was no part of me that was not revealed to the six men.
It was time for the rape itself to start in earnest. A cock plunged into my cunt from behind. He buried himself to the hilt on the first stroke, and my open, already well-lubricated cunt offered no resistance. I went into orgasm almost instantly, crying out in pleasure.
My open mouth must have been attractive to another man, as he hauled my head up by the hair and drove into me. My throat opened easily to him, and as my second orgasm rapidly built, he shot his load on my face. Thr first man came shortly thereafter, and seconds after they both withdrew another pair started. This time my cunt was left idle, as my ass and mouth were the targets for the third and fourth cocks of the evening.
Now, my cunt felt wantonly empty as I was forced to serve without receiving pleasure in return. Thr mere ten minutes of that ordeal was not particularly difficult to endure, but the night was still young.
The next pair sandwiched me, penetrating my as first, then my cunt. With both my lower holes filled, I came explosively several times, screaming in pleasure-pain.
I had taken on all six men, two in each hole. While they recovered, I was left bound in the middle of the floor for a fair time. I heard them laughing, pouring drinks from my stock of liquor, and even planning openly how they would use me for future rounds.
They took me three at a time, next. Ass, then cunt, then mouth, all three holes were filled. My bonds remained, keeping my entire body available both for the thorough fucking it would receive and for their hands, which caressed, pinched, probed and slapped me at will. The first trio came almost together, after nearly twenty minutes of work. The other three followed in like manner, after which I was again left in the middle of the floor, still bound, dripping come from all three of my openings.
Again, the long wait. The sound of drinks. The obscene conversation, of which I was the main topic. I surveyed my own body: my arms were numb, my legs ached, my ass was sore. And my cunt, open to the air and to the gaze of the men, still hungered for more!
The next round started. Now, my pleasure would have to wait. They took me one at a time, all in the ass. Each one opened my ass a little wider, until I could feel the very air currents in the room inside of me when they pulled out. By now, I was exhausted, but they insisted on my active participation. Even bound as I was, they demanded that I move my ass to bring them off and squeeze their cocks with my muscles to increase their pleasure. Whenever they sensed a lack of effort, their slaps brought me quickly to heel. Soon, as their hands grew sore, they substituted a leather belt and began welting my ass-cheeks in earnest.
As each one finished, he came to my mouth to be cleaned. Each stayed in my mouth until the next was ready to follow.
It had been close to six hours since they started, and all had come three times. Suddenly, I recognized the voice of my Master, as I thought of him.
"Slut! You are now going to come for our entertainment. Still, you must pay for the privilege. Beg me to clamp your nipples!"
His very voice reawakened my arousal. My cunt, still held wide open by my leg spreader, was full of juice, and little of it was the men's come. "Please, Master, clamp my nipples, and do with me what you will!"
Still blindfolded, I did not see the clamps. My nipples erupted in pain, and I screamed. Something penetrated my ass, but it wasn't a live cock. Something else, larger than any of their cocks, forced its way into my already stretched cunt. I felt straps being buckled, holding in the two massive dildos. I moaned in frustration.
My blindfold was removed. I was on my back, still bound, now doubly penetrated. I was covered with come, and well-marked. The men surrounded me, clothed and comfortable in my living room chairs. One, not my Master, spoke:
"You will remain as you are until such a time as you beg one of us to piss in your mouth. When you begin drinking from his cock, your dildos will be turned on, and you will be allowed pleasure. Until then, we will wait. Should our arousal return first, we will use your mouth exclusively."
I was already on the edge. At that moment, I would have begged anyone for anything. I did not hesitate.
"Please, Masters, will one of you please piss in my mouth?"
The utter humiliation passed through me like a wave. I felt it as a physical pulse throughout my body, with echos starting every time I met the eyes of any of the six men watching me. One of the men drinking a beer straight from its can, stood before me. He quickly finished off the beer, then pulled out his soft cock.
From my knees, I opened my mouth. My mortification increased as I tasted his cock, knowing what was about to happen. He started to piss.
The taste hit me like a brick wall. Still seeing the eyes of the other five men watching, I began to swallow. Then, both my dildos started vibrating. I moaned, screamed around the cock in my mouth, in between swallowing his piss, as the orgasm swept me into uncharted realms of pleasure. I vaguely remember licking and sucking him gently as he finished and withdrew, still coming myself. Then, I remember nothing.
I awoke in my own bed. I had been bathed, soothed, powdered and laid down in my own bed all while out cold and dead to the world. I rose briefly and found the house immaculate. There was no evidence of my visitors except for some missing liquor and the welts on my ass. I returned to bed, and after masturbating to one more quick orgasm, slept.
* * *
The following afternoon, I received a telegram:
"Donna ------:
"You are cordially invited to spend an evening at the Gentlemen's Club of DuPaul St. We will send a car to pick you up at 7 PM. Be ready."
It was unsigned.
I dressed in stockings and garters, a severe, low cut black dress and my highest opera pumps.
At 7 PN sharp, there was a knock on my door. A chauffeur stood there with a limo parked out front. "Your ride, Miss."
He escorted me to the limo. He seated me, then produced a pair of handcuffs. "Behind your back, please." I submitted to the handcuffs, and my wrists were locked behind my back. A velvet blindfold followed, and I became conscious of the exposure of my dress. I had brought no wrap, and with my arms pulled back, my cleavage was displayed in great depth. We rode in silence for a time.
The car parked. The door opened, and I felt a leather collar fastened around my neck. A leash was attached, whereupon the chauffeur helped me out of the car. As we stood, he spoke briefly: "Forgive me, Miss, but your dress must be removed before we enter."
Handcuffed, blindfolded, collared and leashed, I responded, "Of course."
Soon, effectively naked, I was led through the open air, observed by eyes I could not see, into the club.
We moved through several rooms, and I heard numerous voices, all male, engaged in casual, polite conversation. There were some occasional female moans as well; I would not be the only woman present.
I was forced to my knees. My collar was removed and replaced by another, much wider collar, this one attached to some fixed object. I would not be moving my head. My knees were separated and strapped, wide apart, to the floor. My handcuffs were raised behind me and clipped in position, holding my arms up parallel to the floor.
Something nudged at my lips. Something warm, with a bit of moisture at its end. A hard, erect cock was seeking entry to my mouth. I opened, submissively, and swallowed it into my throat as it began pumping my face.
He fucked my mouth for several minutes before withdrawing only long enough to spray part of his load on my face and breasts. As I groaned in arousal, he again plunged into my mouth for his cleaning. Only then was my blindfold removed.
"Good evening, Donna." It was my Master.
"For you, it is day two. You will spend most of the evening here, bound as you are, serving exclusively with your mouth. If you serve well, you might earn some rewards. Should you prove recalcitrant, or in any way unsatisfactory, there are numerous methods available to punish you, as you can see."
With no further explanations, he turned and vanished. Quickly, I scanned the room. There was a bar, staffed by a pair of nude women, with several more women bearing trays around the room. All were collared, most chained, and some wore leather or steel accessories I could not identify.
My collar had been fastened to a heavy steel beam, some three feet long, extending horizontally from a similar beam mounted vertically, anchored solidly to the floor. There were two others like it in the room, both occupied. One of the women sported painful-looking nipple clamps, the other had still another girl strapped to the floor beneath her, administering a "Reward" with lips and tongue. Then, my view was blocked as another man unzipped right in front of me and buried his cock in my throat.
A few minutes later, I swallowed my second load of the night, and I had a brief look at one of the serving girls as she was being suspended by her wrists. As my next customer plowed into my face, I heard the distinct crack of a whip on flesh and heard her scream.
I was used continuously, always in the mouth. My arousal grew, my nipples hardened, my cunt remained untouched. All I was to be was a mouth, a receptacle for the cocks of all who wanted to use me. None spoke, none touched me except for an occasional grip on my hair. I tired soon, as, some two hours into my near-continuous ordeal, with my juice running all the way down my thighs, the man using my throat pulled out and glared angrily.
I looked at him, fearful, as he reached into the pocket of his expensive tweed suitcoat. He withdrew a pair of vicious nipple clamps and quickly applied them to my outthrust tits. I screamed with the initial pain, as he said, "Now, perhaps you'll be more cautious with your teeth!"
He returned to my mouth. I sucked him carefully, dutifully, cleaning him well when I finished swallowing his come.
It went on another hour before the next interruption. Another gentleman felt my lips and tongue, as exhausted as they were, did not show sufficient effort. Suddenly, I felt weights added to my tit-clamps, as my nipples were drawn down painfully several inches. Moaning in renewed pain, I returned to my duty, suffering throughout.
Another hour passed. At midnight, a spotlight was turned on the center of the floor. By this time, I noticed a number of other girls bound in various positions around the room. One was suspended by her spread ankles against a wall, another hung by her wrists, still another on her toes with her arms pulled behind a bar and fastened at her waist. That last bore over a dozen clothespins on each of her breasts. I cried, tortured by my mere pair of weighted clamps, fearful of what might happen.
A pillory was moved to the middle of the room. It confined the neck and wrists of a nude beauty some three feet above floor level. Her ankles were drawn up and spread wide by ropes lowered from the ceiling. After the brief announcement that she had been caught with her fingers in her own pussy, she was lashed brutally on her cunt by a cat-o-nine tails. She remained in her semi-suspension for a full hour, serving with her mouth as I did.
The endless parade of erect cocks resumed using my own mouth and throat. I had long since lost count, and I found my jaw muscles were so stretched by the effort that it was difficult to close my mouth. I had swallowed so much come, I was bloated.
Again, there was a brief interruption. The suffering beauty in front of me was fitted with a huge dildo to fill her ass, then locked into a chastity belt. Only then was she lowered to the floor. To my surprise, she was made to lie beneath me, my own flooded cunt resting on her face. She was strapped to the floor, whipped again briefly, and ordered to suck my cunt.
She complied, obediently, as another cock found my mouth. Moments later, I achieved my own first orgasm of the night, my first reward. Unfortunately, the man pumping my mouth detected a distraction in my service, and added more weights to the clamps on my already tortured nipples. I began to learn to control my reactions.
It was nearly 2 AM before the line thinned and ended. My nipple clamps were removed, and I screamed my lungs out at the resultant agony, until a pair of hands slowly massaged them, bringing life back into them. Aroused again, I ground my cunt into the face of the punished girl still fastened beneath me for one last orgasm. My still-handcuffed wrists were lowered, my other bonds released, the collar I wore earlier was replaced, and my blindfold refastened. The leash once again found my collar's ring, and the chauffeur's voice requested, "Come with me, Miss."
Tottering blindly now on my heels, I followed his lead to the car and was brought home. On the way out, I found that my services to the men had indeed been counted. In just over six hours, I had sucked off just over fifty men.
* * *
I hadn't slept even two hours when I heard the crash. Someone had broken through the back door. I jumped up, still naked, in bed, and saw that the clock read 5 AM. It was still dark.
My Master appeared, dressed in a suit and overcoat. There were three others with him, all with flashlights. The lights were all pointed in my face. He approached me showing a badge, which read, "Interpol". Immediately, I said, this is crazy..."
"Miss, you are under arrest. You have been identified as an escapee from the Federal prison in Aguascalientes, Mexico. These officers will bring you to a holding station a few miles away, there to await transport back to Mexico."
"No-o-o!"
I was grabbed, handcuffed while still naked, and literally carried out into a waiting car.
The holding station was deep in the woods. There was indeed a cellblock, into which I was dragged screaming. They literally used a fire hose to clean me, then completed the ritual with a de-lousing treatment. Too fast to follow, I was brought to a blacksmith where my wrists and ankles were shackled with riveted steel and chains that must have weighed twenty pounds.
To my shock, there were other women prisoners, nearly a dozen of them. That small portion of my mind which still remembered the real world thought, "They couldn't be hired actors. They must have all had this fantasy!" Then I noticed--several of them had masses of welts on their flesh. And now, the guards were approaching me.
They seized my wrist-chain and dragged me to the center of the yard. A hook was connected to my chain and I was hoisted into the air.
The whip was one made of leather straps four feet long, all attached to a wooden rod an additional three feet in length. It would be brutal.
"Two dozen for attempted escape!"
The first stroke landed full on my back, knocking the wind out of me and spinning me around. I screamed continuously, as the lash continued to fall non-stop. No part of my body was spared; from back to shins, breasts to thighs, all my flesh suffered. Worse, when the flogging was over, I was kept hanging for what must have been at least half an hour in front of the other assembled prisoners before we were assigned a work detail. When they did lower me, I collapsed into a ball, whereupon they cut at me repeatedly with their smaller whips until I joined the line.
It was not until we were marched into the woods that I noticed most of the other girls were at least somewhat covered. They wore old, torn smocks, low-cut, sleeveless, with skirts reaching only their upper thighs. It took only a slight bend at the waist or a light breeze to discover that none were allowed underwear.
All were barefoot. There were two others beside myself that were naked. One of these wore some sort of leather device locked into her crotch. From her walk, it was clear the device penetrated her lower openings and tortured her with every step she took.
It would be forced labor for us all. The sun was rising as we arrived at a section of woods being cleared for a road. Trees had been felled, and we had to move the logs away after they had been cut into four foot sections, each weighing anywhere from fifty to over a hundred pounds.
Our wrist shackles were locked behind our backs. The trailing chain was nailed to the end of each log, and we were forced to drag them. The route was uphill along a rough, rocky path somewhat over a quarter of a mile long. All along the path, the overseers watched us, lashing out with their whips if we dared to slow. Their hands were busy as well. If we hadn't earned the lash with our efforts, they were free with a caress, a pinch or a quick penetration of our lower holes.
Soon, the sun rose high, and the heat of the day began to build. We all sweated heavily, and weakened. We were only allowed water at the top of the hill, in limited quantities, and only if we arrived with our cargo intact. It was not long before we began to stumble and fall.
On my first fall, they bent me over the very log I carried, my ass in the air, and gave me a dozen lashes with a quirt. Immediately, one of the men raped my ass. I was then made to resume my trip. I saw other women similarly used, in their ass, cunt or mouth, sometimes by two or three of the men in succession.
We worked non-stop until noon, when we were fed. Soup, cold meat and some crusty bread was our lunch, with our wrists unlocked from behind our backs to allow us to eat. The heavy chains remained attached. Two women were singled out as slackers, and were lashed. The rest had their smocks torn from their bodies. Now, all of us would be forced to work in the nude.
The man in charge of the work detail made an announcement.
"Your work has been lazy and slow. You're not coming even close to making your quotas. To speed you up, you will no longer drag the logs, but carry them across your shoulders for the remainder of the day. At sundown, the girl with the lowest total will be severely punished. Now, back to work!"
A dozen naked, shackled, already exhausted women ran down the hill under the lash. Now, two men picked up each log, set it across our shoulders and used a pair of nails to fix our chains to it. Our arms were forced to support the logs by bending back severely, and the pain in our naked shoulders from the rough bark would torture us for the afternoon.
Needless to say, all of us were raped, all of us were whipped repeatedly, and all of us spent the most agonizing day of our lives. Still, it was not over.
The totals were read off. The girl with the highest was allowed to sleep in peace, chained in her cell. The girls in the middle range would be used through the night by the guards.
To my horror, my total was the lowest.
I was already too weak to scream. I sobbed, pleading for mercy as I was dragged to my doom in the center of the clearing. It was another log, perhaps three or four inches in diameter, supported a few feet in the air. I was made to straddle it, and my ankle shackles, freed from their connecting chain, were dragged out tightly to either side. This opened me painfully wide and brought my weight down hard on my cunt upon the rough log. Already suffering in earnest, I cried, then stared with horror as two men carried out another log.
It was placed upon my shoulders, and my wrists were attached to it. It was heavier than any I carried all day, probably weighing more than I did. I found my strength and began to scream, my cunt now in ever-greater agony, as one of the overseers approached me with a cat-o-nine tails.
He whipped my breasts. A half dozen strokes, all welting on contact. I screamed, and screamed, and screamed.
I did not remember passing out, or being released, or being laid down in the car trunk and brought home. I awoke with my Master, still in his Interpol character, who announced that my identity had been mistaken and I was freed. He fed and bathed me, massaged me, and put me to bed.
* * *
I awoke at noon, having slept well over twelve hours. I was sore, welted and still not ready to believe the previous three days. With another four days left to go, I shuddered, trying to remember what I could of the titles for each day which would be my only clues. I had made it through "Gang Rape", "Men's Club" and "Mexican Prison". Now, I could remember none of the others, except that I would be forced to submit to them all.
I took a slow bath, pampering my body. My memories of the prior days aroused me, and I wanted to masturbate, but I held off, not having any idea what I would be subjected to today.
I dressed in a nightgown, ate a light breakfast, then sat and waited.
My Master arrived at 5, dressed as a chauffeur. With him was an exquisitely beautiful black woman, dressed to arouse any man who came near her.
"Up and at-em, bitch! Time to get back to work!"
"Wh-who are you?"
My Master handed me, would you believe, a business card. It read, "The House of Madame Bournier".
"Bad enough you didn't show for three days, now you're laying around doing nothing, when you're supposed to be laying my customers! You've earned at least a licking to begin with; don't make it worse! Turn around!"
I knew I'd be handcuffed, even before I felt the metal locked around my wrists. As I turned again to face them, I became conscious of the near-total exposure of the transparent nightgown I wore. My heat began to rise. I noted I had only been fucked once during the previous day's ordeal, and that in the ass.
It was a more traditional whorehouse, an anachronism in today's world of out-call and escort services. I was brought to a small room, stripped and collared, then chained on my knees on the floor, my wrists still locked behind my back.
"In this place, when you work, you get rewarded. When you slack off, you get the day you just bought. Today, you're our ass and mouth girl. All your tricks will be told your cunt is off limits. You'll suck every one of them hard, then give them your ass to fuck. When they finish, you'll suck them clean. It's 7 PM now; I'll check in on you at midnight. If you perform well, you'll get rewarded. If not, you'll do some real rough trade in the basement until sunrise!" With that, she walked out, slamming the door behind her.
I waited an hour before my first customer, chained as I was. The man entered, revealed a soft cock and used my mouth. When I had sucked him hard, he roughly bent me over and, using the chain on my handcuffs as a hand-hold, pulled my ass onto his cock. I screamed once as he penetrated me, and once more as he slapped my welted asscheeks, but I had him coming in minutes. Walking around me, he pulled my head up by the hair and forced me to clean him, as prescribed, by mouth. As I tasted and swallowed the remnants of my ass mixed with his come, I could feel his load dripping out of my ravaged asshole. In five hours, I was used the same way by fifteen men.
At midnight, the lady of the house returned.
"You've done well, slut. There have been no complaints on your submissiveness and cooperation. There have, however, been some complaints about your ass. I don't know what you've done with yourself since leaving our house, but your back door is loose enough to drive through!"
At that, I reddened. It was true, and I could still feel the steady drip of come from my well-opened ass.
"No matter. From now until the end of your shift, you'll serve exclusively with your mouth. That is, unless you earn still more punishment."
With that, she was gone.
During the next hour and a half, I sucked off half a dozen men in a row. The last one was built like a horse, and even with the practice I'd had with my throat, I could not handle his extreme length and breadth without gagging. He stormed out angrily and returned with Madame Bournier and two other women.
"Lazy cunt! You don't appreciate easy duty. Now, you'll find out about doing it the hard way. Bring her to the basement!"
I was forced to remain on my knees, crawling all the way. Even on the stairs, I had to remain kneeling, descending backwards.
There were several girls in punishment already, all naked. Two were in cells, wrists chained high above them, standing on tip-toe. Both were gagged; one had her breasts bound extremely tight with thin wire. Another was hogtied in a small kennel, lying on a pad covered with short blunt studs. She moaned through her gag, suffering. Still another hung by her joined wrists and ankles. Her ass and thighs were severely welted, and come dripped from both her lower holes.
I was bound to a specialized rack of sorts. A bar supported my back under my breasts, and leather straps criss-crossed my tits, squeezing them hard and making them stand out from my chest begging for punishment. My wrists were locked in position beneath the rack. My head hung down and rested in a brace, a strap over my forehead holding it in place. This forced my mouth to remain open and opened my throat at the ideal angle for deep penetration. My ankles were raised and opened wide, opening my lower holes. Still, this was just the setup, not the punishment.
My ass rested on a metal plate covered with short needlepoints. As soon as my ass hit it, the pain forced me to raise it again, in an obscene parody of copulation. Worse, the Madame threw a switch, and moments later, I felt the metal beginning to heat.
The offended man with the oversized cock walked to my cunt. He thrust within me, tearing his way in. I screamed with the pain, then screamed again as his weight forced my ass down onto the heated needles. Reacting to the pain, I thrust back up hard, burying him even deeper. We got into a rhythm, with his thrusts causing my uncontrolled rebounds each time from the hot pincushion supporting my ass. Now, he was pleased. My pain was helping his arousal.
"Enough! Don't let her come!" It was the Madame. The gentleman withdrew and came to my bound face. As I moaned my frustration, the man plunged hard into my throat. Now, there was no resistance. I was bound to be open to him, gagging or not. My only option available was the use of my tongue. Needless to say, I tasted much of my own juice, and his as well a moment later.
The bed of needles under my ass had fully heated. Now, even without the sharp points, it would have been painful to the touch. With no one touching me, my cunt continued its obscene pumping of the air itself, to avoid the torture.
Another man entered. No, two men. The first used my cunt, driving my ass violently into the hot points. Given no time to scream, the other man used my mouth. I was brought to orgasm in spite of myself, but my afterglow was totally overridden by the continued torture of my ass and the rape of my mouth and cunt. Both men came in minutes; the one at my cunt got his cleaning from my lips and tongue.
With Madame's help, I had found my niche. I remained bound in the rack until 5 AM, and was used almost continuously.
My nightgown was returned, my wrists locked behind my back, and I was driven home.
This night, I was not pampered. Master, still in his chauffeur role, made me kneel on my living room floor, still handcuffed and dressed only in my transparent nightgown.
"Forgive me, Miss. One of the perogatives of my position."
He used my mouth, finishing quickly. He then unlocked my wrists, said "Goodnight, Miss", and left me on the floor, my face covered with his come.
* * *