Prologue
"I'm ready whenever you are, Tony," said the middle-aged woman in front of me. Madame Wistena sat in a massive, ornate chair of wood and leather with her legs crossed. She wore a long black and green dress that fell to each side of her thighs, and I couldn't help but admire how beautiful she was, even to a young guy in his early 20s like me.
"I'm ready," I said.
"I hope so. This isn't going to be like one of your stories. You will literally enter the worlds you have created. You will physically be there, feeling everything you wrote about."
"I hope so. That's what I want."
"That's what most people come to me thinking they want," she said with a flat expression. Then they learn all too late that the pain from the whip or the lack of autonomy in their sexual slavery is a lot less fun than they expected."
"I'm ready," I said. "Even if I regret it, I have to do this."
"Okay." This time she smiled at last. "Each time you fall asleep, you will awaken in a new world of your own creation, one where you are a woman, but not just a woman. A slave. A whore. A toy for others to play with. A creature to be beaten and whipped. A collection of holes for men to stick their dicks in."
I returned the smile. I could hardly wait.
"Very well," she said, and she snapped her fingers.
My world went black.
Adventure One: Carol Is a Toy
As I opened my eyes, I saw that the woman standing before me was freakin' gorgeous. In her early 40s at least, tall -- at least six-two in her heeled boots -- dark black hair with thin red streaks hanging straight and over her shoulders, cropped off into bangs that just brushed her thick, dark eyebrows, her gaze down at me was stern, unflinching, and fully expecting to be obeyed. Her pale skin bordered on Gothic, and her almost black eyes seemed to be endlessly deep but somehow murky and wet at the same time as if unimaginable creatures swam there, wanting to be released into the world at large.
"Turn around," she commanded.
As if my body had no will but hers, I did so.
"Yes, ma'am," I said softly, almost not wanting to disturb her.
"Yes, mistress," she corrected.
"Yes, mistress," I echoed obediently.
She grabbed my wrists and pinned them behind me. "Oof," I said without thinking.
"No speaking unless I address you, slave," she said.
I said nothing, only felt as she wrapped a leather strap around my wrists, then weaved it around the straps to tighten them into a sort of cuff that gripped them tightly together without so much as a quarter inch of room to wiggle.
She had obviously done this before.
I felt the moisture grow inside me. I could almost swear I smelled the wanton lust between my legs, and I feared it was giving me away to her.
"You may reply 'Yes, mistress.'"
I nodded. "Yes, mistress."
"Good girl," she said, and let my now captive arms fall against my back.
I felt another strap being pulled around my elbows, smashing them together. This, of course, thrust my boobs out amply, cutting off most of my view of my lower body unless I leaned forward. It felt so weird to think of them as 'my boobs' considering I hadn't had them when I started the night.
"Turn around," she commanded, and I did.
She smiled as I faced up at her. The smile wasn't sweet, but instead hungry and patient, but eager. She was a stalking tiger, and I was her prey for the night.
"Read this," she said, shoving a pink leather collar between us.
"Carol," I said, making out the silver and rhinestones that spelled out the name on the collar.
"That's right. Now the tag."
I leaned in close to read the indented letters on the metal tag. "Property of Mistress Emerline."
"That's right. You, Carol, are now the property of me, Mistress Emerline." As she spoke, she fastened the collar around my neck tightly. So tight there wasn't must room for it to move without rubbing my tender neck skin, but not so much that it choked me.
"Yes, mistress," I responded dreamily.
"Mine to do with as a please," she said with no change in her tone.
"Yes, mistress."
Then she slapped the side of my exposed breasts, first the right and then the left, then each again. I yelped as she slapped hard enough to really sting and probably leave a handprint.
"To beat you," she said.
She pushed me against the wall behind us, four full steps, and I struggled not to fall thanks to the pace and the fact that I was walking backward with my center of balance out of whack because of my bound arms and outthrust breasts. In the end, though, I leaned against it, and she forced my legs apart widely with her knee. One of her slender hands cupped my pussy.
'My pussy.'
Again my mind tried to fathom the words more deeply. Like my breasts, such a body part hadn't existed at the outset of the night.
Her index finger parted my labia, wet with anticipation of the invasion. I closed my eyes. Her middle finger joined the other and she began to move them in and out of my wanting sex.
"To fuck you," she said.
And her fingers instantly withdrew. She wiped them clean on my bare belly, then sucked any remaining juices off.
"To disappoint you and leave you wanting," she added.
"Mistress?" I begged.
She pushed her fingers to my lips. "Ssshhh. Bad girl." She slipped one finger into the ring on the collar and pulled me along with her. The next thing I knew, I was pulled down into her lap, my naked ass exposed.
She raised her open hand and slapped it down hard on my skin. I yelped.
"To punish you," she said as she brought it down again. "Count them, my pet."
"Two," I said. "That's two."
She continued until I counted to twenty-five and my backside was screaming in such pain that I knew sitting down wouldn't be an option for several minutes.
"To confuse you," she said.
As she spoke, she reached between my legs, lightly working her way up my unfulfilled slit until her fingers found my clit. Then she stroked it lightly, and my brain lit up with a million volts of pleasure. But when she pinched it and twisted it violently, the pleasure blended with pain, and I was torn between wanting it to never end and to stop before I passed out.
I think I might have screamed, but it was so far in the distance that I couldn't tell for sure.
When my body relaxed again, I was panting and lying on the floor at her feet.
"Give me your feet, Carol," she commanded, and I put my both ankles in her lap. She fastened a leather cuff around each and locked them in place with tiny, shiny padlocks. Then she attached my right ankle to a wooden bar at least two and a half feet wide and locked it in place with a matching padlock. Lastly came the lock that secured my left ankle to the bar. Now my legs were locked open. I could do nothing to protect my sex from her whims, either for pleasure or pain.
Just the thought of being so helpless and at her mercy renewed the sopping, musky moisture inside me.
I had become pure lust.
I wouldn't have imagined that in a million years, and yet, there I was, a horny mess of a slave girl to a beautiful mistress, yearning for more abuse and humiliation.
"Come with me," she commanded, and I followed as best I could with the bar between my ankles.
She led me to a contraption with two carabiners. She unscrewed them and then slipped them around the bar and screwed each one tightly again. Each carabiner was attached to a chain that ran to the ceiling.
"Lie down or you'll bump your head, darling," she said, this time with the first bit of softness in her tone. It disappeared quickly.
I lay down on the floor, and she began to twist a handle on the nearest wall, raising my legs into the air. She kept pulling until my ass also left the floor, and soon the small of my back. She gazed at me, smiling. Then she continued. Soon only my shoulders and the back of my head touched the floor, and a few moments after that, both of those were in the air about two inches off the floor.
She took a break and walked to me, pushing me so that I swayed back and forth like a punching bag. She leaned in to get a whiff of my pussy, then licked me gently. My world burst into sensations of ecstasy again.
"Such a horny slut. You're almost too easy, my pet." She took another taste. "Almost."
She returned to the handle and continued cranking it until the floor rested at least two feet below my head. I swayed from the motion of the hoist, but she didn't push me this time.
When she stood before me, my head was about a foot below her crotch and my crotch was about level with her face. My boobs hung upside down and exposed.
This time she was holding a whip. It had several strips of leather and each one ended in a knot at the tip.
"In the old days, these were made with rocks at the ends to really rip up the skin and draw blood, but I don't want that. I just want pain."
She swatted the tender underside of my boobs several times, and I screamed loudly.
"Oh, dear," she said. "Must do something about that noise, darling."
She walked away and returned shortly with a massive ball gag.
"Open up."
Against my own will, I did. I was hers and we both knew it.
She roughly pushed the gag inside, forcing it behind my teeth and forcing me to breathe through my nose. She fastened it in place behind my head.
"Now," she said, "let's try this again. Shall we?"
She cracked several more thwacks on my helpless breasts. I screamed but the foam rubber ball captured most of the noise.
"Much better, darling. That will make this so much easier and help us go on so much longer."
Thwack.
Thwack.
Thwack.
Thwack.
I was already crying and the streaks rivered from my eyes across my forehead and into my hair.
My hair. Those "cute as a button," tangled red curls that made the girl I had become such a prick tease just by her mere existence. Together with her large tits and a sweet little waist, she was the kind of girl whose body screamed sex whether she admitted it or not. But it wasn't just her body. It was mine somehow. And I had no choice but to admit how much she -- I -- craved not just sex but the abuse. This chick was a masochist, and I was experiencing her needs and desires firsthand.
Thwack.
Thwack.
Thwack.
Thwack.
The stinging had turned to real pain, the kind of hurting that a punch might cause. And each successive blow only reinforced each previous one.
"Lovely," she said. "You're growing beautiful blue and black flowers on those bouncy titties, my love. But let's give them a break for now."
My mind screamed thank you, but only because I didn't fully grasp the meaning of my mistress's words. But I learned really quickly when the knotted whip bit between my legs and stung my pussy.
"I think twenty here should be enough to grow some bruises on your beautiful little cunt too. I won't ask you to count this time. I just want you to be free to enjoy them."
And she began.
I screamed.
Before she was finished, I passed out from the pain.
When I awoke, I was still hanging upside down. She was gently stroking my pussy, giving me a weird confusion, trying to make sense of the tenderness and the bruises, but relishing her sweet attention between my labia and occasionally on my clit.
"I think you'll do just fine," she said. "I'm inclined to keep you, my darling. You would look so lovely with my marks crisscrossed all over your sexy, pale skin and with bruises all over your tits and pussy."
She pushed me with her boot, and I swayed in the room, watching her walk away and leave me alone in the dusky twilight as she turned out the light.
Adventure Two: Carol is a BitchWhore
When I next came to, I was on my knees in front of a man's dark gray dress slacks. My hands were working his belt. Without a thought, I continued with his belt, unable to look away from the erection that wasn't at all hiding inside the pants.
I had to have it.
Once the belt was loose, I all but ripped the catch off his slacks and jerked the zipper down to reveal his throbbing cock there on the other side of his black silk boxers.
I fished it out and studied it in all its glory.
If I had been in any frame of mind to look at it with anything other than pure animal lust I could have been rational and seen it as just an average prick. But to me, it was a drug, and it might as well have been a horse's cock standing there between this man's legs.
"That's it, baby," he said. "Oh shit, that's nice," he said as I wrapped my hands around it.
I licked the top like a lollipop.
It must have liked that because it leaped in my grip.
"Fuck, yes," he said.
I stared at the cock in my hands. I wanted it so freakin' bad. I couldn't think about anything else other than wrapping my lips around it.
"Go ahead," he said, and he pulled my face toward it until it touched my nose.
"Yes, sir, baby," I responded, needing it and knowing it. Then I wet my lips with my tongue, and looked up at the man quickly -- he was tall with dark brown hair and dressed in a nice suit, sporting a brown goatee, and was grinning down at me like I was the grand prize in a raffle -- then lowered my gaze to his beautiful cock and slid it into my mouth until I almost gagged.
"Fuck yeah," he said. "Worth every goddamn penny."
His words caught me off-guard and as I looked up again I saw my reflection in his oversized belt buckle. Blonde, with long waves that bounced on my shoulders. Bright red lips around his man-meat. Sky-blue eyes that looked like playground innocence.
A quick glance revealed the room. A cheap hotel room. Probably one of the two-story deals with every door being an outside door. A wad of bills on the nightstand between the beds. A tube TV, not a flat-screen, on the dresser. Thrift shop art on the walls above each bed, both of wildlife scenes with deer as the theme.
But that was all I saw. When he noticed my attention drifting, he pulled my face roughly back onto him and started to fuck me right in the mouth.
I gurgled and gasped but kept every precious inch of him inside my mouth and as far down my fucking throat as I could and still breathe. I traced the seam with my tongue on the upstroke and rounded his little helmet when I reached the top. On the way back down, I pressed my teeth gently against his skin to extra pressure and to scare the shit out of him.
A little fear goes great with a blow job, I told myself, remembering a chick doing that to me once and it making the eventual explosion of jizz in her throat that much more satisfying.
He kept up the rough face-fuck for another few minutes, and I felt his balls flex in my hands and his cock jerk a little, and I knew he was close to losing it. I wrapped my arms around his legs and pulled him further inside me, then I squeezed his nuts with one hand, and when I let go, he shot warm, salty cum into my mouth and throat.
There was a knock at the door, then it opened. I was still wiping away leftover drizzle from the corners of my mouth when a skinny dude in jeans and a dress shirt entered the room.
"You done with the bitch yet, Robbie? Me and Ted and Barry want a go too."
"Just finished with her," the guy, Robbie I now knew him to be, responded. "All yours, Gary."
Gary reached into his pocket and fished out two twenties and placed them on the nightstand.
"All right then," he said, unzipping his pants as he walked toward me.
I eyed his crotch hungrily. "Let me get that for you, baby," I said.
I crawled toward him and had his pants at his ankles in no time flat.
"Let's see what kind of rocket you're hiding in here," I said, peeling his briefs away to reveal a long cock of at least eight inches and big enough around to give me a little more trouble. "Oooh," I said. "Mama like."
"Then Mama can have it," he said.
"Thanks, baby."
Then I stopped speaking. It wasn't polite, I'd been taught, to speak when my mouth was full. And fuck was it ever full.
What Gary had in length and girth he lacked in action. Instead of taking part actively, he leaned against the bed and let 'mama' do all the work. It was okay. That was fine with me. I didn't mind at all. I mean, his cock was magnificent, veined and warm and it tasted of hard work and a busy day, all man and all sex. He hadn't been circumcized, so that gave me an extra toy to play with at the tip and a place to explore with my tongue. He seemed to like that a lot.
He kept saying "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," and at first I thought it meant he was going to be a quick cummer, but he was just really, really enjoying the attention, I guess, because he held on for several minutes before unloading his excitement into my throat -- thanks to his length -- and causing me to gag for breath.
"Fuck yeah," he said. "That was awesome." And without another word, he pulled up his pants and underwear and hopped to the door to let Ted know it was his turn.
"She any good," Ted asked as he entered.
Gary nodded. "Yeah, she's good."
"You thought the last girl was good."
"She was."
"She sucked," Ted said flatly.
Then they both laughed.
"We'll see," Ted said as Gary excused himself to the bathroom. Robbie peeked in through the slightly open door.
Ted was a big guy, right at six feet, and was a mountain of a man with thick arms and shoulders and the kind of legs that said he used to lift weights. His face was clean-shaven and he wore his blonde hair in a ponytail behind him. He knew his way around a clothing store too because his white suit was the epitome of cool, and gave off a sort of casual elegance that made me think he did well enough with the ladies not to need my services to get his dick wet.
"Hey, baby," I said. "What are you packing?"
He smiled.
I gave it right back to him and reached for his belt.
He jerked away.
"What's wrong, baby?" I asked. I could feel the disappointment rising inside me. "Let me take care of you, okay?"
He relaxed, and I crawled forward again. Then he reached down, grabbed my hair, and gripped it like a ponytail. He lifted me to my stocking-clad feet. Then he kept lifting like he was going to pull the hair right off my head, and before I knew it, my toes couldn't touch the goddamn floor.
He leered at me. I smiled back.
"It's okay, baby. Sometimes I like it rough." And I knew somehow it wasn't a lie.
"Not a goddamn word," he said and let go, dropping me an inch or so onto the carpet. Then his meathook hands grabbed my shoulders and pushed me to my knees. Rather than letting me undo his belt and fly, he took care of that himself and pulled his rather small cock out of his boxers.
So that was what he was worried about. I set his mind at ease.
"Oooh. That looks delicious," I said.
"Shut up," he said.
"Why? It does. I could eat it all up."
"Shut up," he repeated.
I moved toward it.
"In one gulp," I said.
He slapped me.
"That's it, baby," I said. "Hit me. Now you feel like a man, right?"
He slapped me again.
"That's right. Make this little bitch shut up and suck your cock like she's supposed to."
"Yeah," he said and gripped my neck.
"Just the way I like it, baby," I said, coughing.
And I took his worm of a prick into my mouth all the way. I didn't even have to deep-throat him to reach his balls and lick them. Soon I had both his dick and his balls in my mouth, and he was holding onto the top of my head as if his life depended on it.
It may have been small, but it was tasty and clean. He used a fruity soap apparently, and I tasted apples and mint on his skin.
He smiled, then let the expression flatten as Gary returned from the bathroom.
Up and down I went for five minutes, then ten, and he didn't lose control. Each time I made sure to gulp on his balls again and roll them around with my tongue. Finally, to send him over the edge, I grabbed his hairy ass and pulled him closer. I deftly shoved my index finger into his asshole before he could realize what I was doing. He yipped like a puppy and shot his load in my mouth. It was not just a gush but a fucking tsunami. I couldn't hold it all, and it dripped and sputtered from my lips onto my chest.
But he wasn't done. He was hard again instantly, and I fucked his asshole with my finger while I sucked on his balls. In another thirty seconds, I felt him tense up and I pulled away.
"That's right, bitch!" he yelled, and then he came all over my face while I kept my goddamn mouth wide open.
"Best one yet," I said as I slurped.
"Damn right," he said as he zipped up.
"Damn right, baby," I said, savoring his flavor. He was small, but damn if his cum didn't taste amazing.
The door burst open and in came Barry. He also wore a suit, pinstriped, with a vest. Barry's skin was black and his hair was black and started to bald a bit in a patch or two on top. He carried about thirty extra pounds and was the shortest of the men whose cocks I'd taste that night, no taller than five-eight.
I looked at his height and told myself not to get too excited. That old stereotype might not be true after all.
"Down, girl," he said.
"Yes, sir," I said and dropped again to my knees.
"Take your fucking clothes off, whore."
I shook my head. "A fuck is gonna cost you more."
He raised his hand like he was gonna backhand me. "Did I say I wanted to fuck you, slut? I just want you to be naked when you suck my dick."
He slammed two twenties on the nightstand. I watched eagerly.
"But, if it helps you get naked," he said and slapped another one down on top of the others.
"Yes, sir," I said. "You like to see a slut's titties when she swallows your cock. I understand.
"Bush too."
I nodded.
I pulled off my top and slipped out of my black leather skirt. I wasn't wearing a bra, so my titties were already freely displayed. Next, I peeled off my black thong and the only thing I was still wearing was black fishnet thigh-high stockings.
"All of it?"
He shook his head.
"You can leave the pantyhose on," he said.
I started to correct him, but I decided against it. I could suck him off just as well whether he called them stockings or pantyhose. It didn't affect my mouth one bit.
He pushed me on my back onto the bed and before I could move, he climbed onto me, moving in a crawl from my legs to my hips, then to my waist, and finally straddled my breasts, his knees under my shoulders.
He unzipped and flopped out an amazing cock, almost as long as Gary's and easily as thick. He rested it on my lips.
"Kiss it, whore," he said.
I kissed it.
"Keep kissing it."
I kissed it again. I opened my mouth.
He pushed it closed.
"Kiss it. Just kiss it. Do as you're told."
I kissed it several more times, lightly, just on the tip. It gradually flinched to life. I kept up the attention.
"Lick it," he commanded.
I did. Lifting my head I traced from the base to the tip with my tongue, but he said, "No," and pushed my head flat against the bed. Then he crawled forward again and rubbed his manhood across my lips. "Stick out your tongue," he said.
I got it finally, and I stuck out my tongue and kept it there. He fucked the air, careful to make sure his cock rode back and forth against my tongue as it continued to stiffen and grow.
Then he pushed a little farther up and rested his balls on my tongue.
"Now clean my balls, whore."
I didn't say a word. Instead, I simply licked his balls all over, careful to tongue my way into every crevice. He tasted sweaty and even dirty, but I didn't dare stop or say a fucking word about it. After a few minutes, he told me to open my goddamn mouth, and he pushed his whole scrotum inside.
"Fucking suck my sack, you cunt."
He obviously got off on calling me names, but whore-slut that I was, I was more than prepared to take that. I mean, if a few slaps didn't bother me, a little name-calling wasn't gonna break my bones, regardless of what kids said about sticks and stones.
I sucked.
He grew.
Finally, he pulled his balls out of my mouth and sat directly on my face. I knew what he wanted, and I obliged. I wanted it to, every sweaty, dirty inch of it. He shoved the beautiful cock inside my mouth and kept going until I was forced to breathe through my nose, and then hold my breath as it cut off access to my windpipe totally. He kept it there for a while -- I wasn't sure how long -- but when I tapped him and pointed to my throat, he just laughed and counted out ten more seconds with his fingers before he pulled back enough to let me breathe. Even then he didn't let me free of his cock though. He listened as I swallowed three loud gulps through my nose and then pushed in all the way again so that I was holding my breath.
This time I was prepared for it, and I think it amazed him how long I could control my breathing. Almost an entire minute before he pulled up, and I could have still gone a little further, not much but a little.
Another gulp, another deep, deep thrust, and another long stay at the back of my increasingly sore throat.
He was meticulous. He was like clockwork. He wasn't in any kind of hurry, and after twenty minutes of gagging me with his monster, he still didn't show any signs of getting ready to lose control.
"I could do this all day, slut," he said.
I figured he was right. As deep as he was, I couldn't use my tongue or my lips to access anything to really tease him. And he wouldn't let me near his balls. My arms were pinned by his legs so I couldn't engage his prostate either.
I was just a hole to rest his dick in, and that's exactly the way he wanted it.
We were heading into almost a half hour when I eventually felt some sort of sexual tension along his prick. The erect throat plugger finally started to quiver and I knew he was either going to blow his load or slow down to keep himself under control.
Not that I could do a damn thing about it.
I waited for him to raise up, but he simply locked his eyes on mine and pushed further, pressing his balls against my chin. I waited to either run out of breath or to be released, but neither happened.
Instead, I hit a sort of Nirvana place where I knew I wasn't breathing anymore. I knew that if I stayed there I would die. But I didn't care. I had his wonderful cock in my mouth, and it was controlling my entire existence. It had the power of life or death for me. All hail that magnificent cock.
And then, just ass Nirvana started to fade to black, my throat -- and perhaps even my gut -- was filled with Barry's warm seed.
I awakened to him slapping me and telling me I was okay.
I nodded and he climbed off me.
"We'll see you next week, Carol," he said.
"Next week," I said dreamily.
"The money's on the nightstand.
"Fucking nightstand," I said.
"God damn," he said.
And I said nothing else and let blessed sleep take me over.
Adventure Three: Carol Is a Maid
When I awoke I found myself tied spread-eagle to a majestic four-post bed in a massive bedroom. Everything was opulent. The dressers, the lamps, the bedside tables, each chair, the settee, even the windows, and curtains. It was all very, very five-star. Or whatever went higher than five-star.
I realized quickly that I wasn't alone.
Someone was kissing my nipples.
Someone else was tongue-deep inside my pussy.
Gazing up at the mirrored ceiling I saw a naked man with blonde hair in a ponytail lavishing loving caresses on my tits and a red-headed woman with her face between my legs. I was, no doubt, the short, thin Asian woman on the bed tied to the posts.
What a way to wake up! I could get used to this!
I tried to speak but found my mouth full. It felt like panties and other soft items, but I couldn't tell because of the duct tape that held my mouth closed.
The woman kept lapping at my cunt, and her tongue would go deep, then return to the labia to lick my slit from bottom to top. She was careful to avoid my clit, obviously wanting to prolong my pleasure.
While she entertained me down below, the man used his mouth to kiss and slurp and suck and nibble on one breast while he squeezed and fondled the other, then changed tits and back again over and over.
All the while, my body spasmed on the bed, and I jerked at the bonds, not to escape but because my body wasn't mine to control.
Neither lover spoke to me.
I closed my eyes and let the rising excitement wash over me.
When I suddenly felt the woman's tongue on my clit, I also noticed the invasive feeling of her finger entering my asshole. Then a second finger. As she licked and nibbled on my clit, she pumped in and out of my ass with a regular, steady rhythm.
The man's mouth moved to my neck and he sucked on it hard enough to leave a mark. Then he covered my own mouth with his and I moaned breathy groans into him as he made love to my tongue and wrested control of it.
All the while the woman kept fucking my ass and lighting up my clitoris.
Both kept up the attention, and my body soon locked up and pulled at the bindings, and I thought I was going to break my fucking arms from the intensity of the orgasm and how hard I pulled against the posts.
Afterward, I relaxed and fell against the bed on my back, but they weren't done with me.
The woman brought over a wand and flipped the switch, making it whirr to life. Then she pushed it firmly against my clit and duct-taped it in place on my belly. The man attached clamps to each of my nipples and then wired them to a small tens unit. When he turned it on, the combination of clitoral arousal and tit electrocution sent me over the edge to a second orgasm almost immediately.
Still, they didn't stop.
Instead, they kissed each other and started to fuck on the end of the bed, between my wide-spread legs. They were as rough and passionate with each other as they had been tender and patient with me, and they finished quickly. When they were done, each kissed me on my cheek, and then they left the room together.
Helpless and still hooked up at both clit and nips, I had no choice but to endure one mind-wracking orgasm after another. I lost track of time, but I could instead measure my life by the intensity. Cumming was starting to hurt as must as it was continuing to feel amazing. My body was torn and confused by the contrasting sensations.
But still, I endured.
I screamed uselessly into the cloth that filled my mouth as the orgasms grew stronger, more electric, more painful, and the jolts on my tits kept going, never relenting.
I was soon a mess of sweat and exhaustion, weeping and thrashing on the bed.
Eventually, the man and woman returned.
"Hello, Carol," they said. "How was your morning, darling?"
I mumbled something, but they didn't seem to care.
"That's nice, sweetheart, but it's time to start your day."
That's when I noticed the clock. It was only eight-thirty A.M. Shit! I must have been awakened at about five o'clock.
The man removed the wand from my pussy and clit and I listened to my breathing attempt to restore a normal pattern. The woman removed the clips and my nipples practically screamed as they were free from the gnashing metal teeth and ongoing stings.
Then they released me from the post and helped me to stand up.
"Get a shower. I'll bring your outfit in for you. And we'll see you downstairs in a half hour, darling."
She kissed me hard on the mouth.
Then the man came over and did the same.
"You were wonderful, as always," he said.
I made my way into the shower, which was as opulent as the bedroom. The shower itself was as big as the bedroom I had grown up in as a child. I couldn't believe I lived in a place like this and with two lovers who obviously understood my needs.
As I showered, I heard the woman come in and watched her blurry form as she put my clothes on the stone stand beside the shower. I smiled, not realizing at first that thanks to the prism-like effect of the glass, such a detail could never be seen on the other side.
Once I finished the shower, after relaxing longer than I should have perhaps but enjoying the extra time regardless after the morning "workout" with the wand and clamps, I turned off the water and dried off.
That's when I finally noticed my outfit.
A black dress with a fluffed-out skirt. A white apron. Black stockings. Black patent heels. A black lace bra and matching panties. And a frilly lace half-cap to top it all off.
A maid uniform. Not clothes. Outfit. The word had been precise and intentional, and I had missed its meaning altogether.
A speaker in the bathroom crackled to life, and the man's voice called out: "Don't be late, Carol. We expect breakfast at nine on the dot, as you know.
I noticed the speaker and found the button to activate the intercom.
"Yes, sir. Sorry. The morning sort of wore me out."
"I bet," he said, and then the speaker went silent.
I got dressed and went downstairs, prancing a lot more than was necessary in the sexy maid uniform.
The clock hanging beside the refrigerator showed 8:53 when I stepped foot inside the kitchen. And, unless I served the Master and the Missus cold cereal for breakfast, I knew there was no way I'd manage to make the 9:00 deadline for a hot breakfast.
There was no option but to curtsy and apologize.
The smiled and nodded as they sat at the table drinking coffee and waiting for me to finish the sausage, eggs, and fruit and bring it to the table -- and set it for them, of course. They ate and chatted about the day with each other while I washed the dishes, and when the meal was over, I cleared and washed those dishes as well. No sooner than I had turned off the sink did I hear the Missus call out "Carol, come here" from the lounge.
I dried my hands and marched obediently to them, knowing full well what was coming.
"We run an efficient houseful, Carol," the Master said as I stood before them.
My hands were loose at my side, my knees were straight but not locked, my chest and back straight, and my eyes staring at the hardwood flooring.
"When we establish a schedule, we expect it to be followed. Situations will come up, we know, but that does not mean Mrs. Wilbanks and I should tolerate laziness and slackness in regard to that schedule in general."
"Yes, sir, Master," I said, still not looking up to see if his eyes glowed with warmth or with hurt or with irritation.
"I know you had a strenuous morning, but no more exhausting than any other, and letting time get away from you is something we warned you we would not tolerate."
"Yes, sir, Master," I repeated.
"And while the breakfast was delicious and filling, it was served almost a full ten minutes late," Missus added. "Do you know how just those ten minutes could have upset our day if we had other plans on our calendar? Ten minutes can make the difference between free-flowing traffic or absolute gridlock, depending on the morning. How would you feel if you made us late for, or worse, miss an important meeting, Carol?"
"I would feel awful, Missus," I said.
They always took such delight in drawing out each time they scolded me, wanting me to fully experience the embarrassment, the humiliation, and the anticipation of the punishment to come.
I continued, "I'm very, very sorry, Missus. It was neglectful of me after how well you and the Master take care of me."
"We're glad you realize that Carol, but, as you well know, actions have consequences," Master said. "You know what to do."
"Yes, sir," I said and I excused myself to go to the kitchen. Once there, I opened the pantry and reached to the far left where the three-quarter-inch oak paddle was hanging. It had once been a cutting board with a handle grip like the top of a bowling pin, only flat. I knew from experience that in Master's hand, it could deliver a formidable blow to my delicate backside.
I couldn't help but smile as I held it in one hand and closed the pantry door with the other.
I returned to the lounge and gave Master the paddle. He nodded and told me to get ready. Immediately I removed my panties and handed them to the Missus. She smiled as she took them, and I walked to the Master and lay across his lap. He pulled up my skirt and tucked it into the apron strings to keep it out of the way, which left my ass fully displayed as I lay over his legs.
Without a word, he brought the paddle down hard on my skin, and I yelped loudly as stinging pain suddenly made itself known on my left cheek. It was followed by another, this included part of my left cheek, right cheek, and almost the entirety of the no man's land of my crack. It hit so hard that it almost pulled the pained skin back up with it when the paddle was once again brought up to prepare for the third strike. That one hit in the same area and I howled out loud that time.
It must have frightened Missus because he gently placed her hand on Master's shoulder. "Perhaps it's too much for her this time," she said.
They both look directly at me.
"Well, Carol?" Master asked. "Is Mrs. Wilbanks right? Is your punishment too much for you today?"
There was no hiding my tears, but I shook my head. "No, sir, Master. And even if it was, it's what I deserve for my behavior."
"Satisified, darling?" Master asked Missus.
"As if she'd say any different. You could be beating the life out of her and she loves us so much that she would never deny either of us the pleasure of punishing her."
"True," he said. He asked again, softer, "Is the pain unbearable today, Carol? Do you need me to stop?"
I shook my head. "No, Master." I took a deep breath, let it go, then drew in another. Upon letting that one out, I blurted out, "And for making you and Missus worry, I'm sure I deserve extra spankings."
I braced myself for the continued whippings, and ten more rained down on my red, burning ass, then they stopped.
Just as quickly, Master's fingers began to gently rub the spots where he had been beating me. While his touch was tender, the heat was real and I was sure there might even be a bruise starting in one or two spots. As such, even his tenderness made me wince from pain. Still, I was surprised he had stopped when he did, especially after I had offered to receive more, practically begging for it.
Missus stood up and left the room, then returned a minute or so later with a jar of ointment. She opened it then handed it to Master, who dipped his fingers into the goopy stuff and then went back to rubbing my ass, this time massaging the ointment into my skin and muscles and nerves. I tingled for a moment, then felt the pain start to subside.
It wasn't long before I passed out from sheer exhaustion and pain.
Adventure Four: Carol Is a Pain-Slut
I awoke in the dark. Every sound around me was muffled, and I felt as though something tight and thick were covering my head. No vision. Very little hearing. Only my nose was exposed through a hole in the thing covering my face -- some kind of mask, I guessed.
Without warning, there was a severe stinging in my left nipple as a needle punctured it and I cried out... Only to find my mouth was filled with a penis gag that almost touched the area that triggered my gag reflex. I winced beneath the mask as my right nipple was also pierced.
Someone shook me by my shoulders and I heard the quiet tinkling of bells. I assumed they must be louder than I thought if I could still hear them through the mask.
I swallowed another yelp as the bells were tugged, stretching my tender, no doubt bleeding nipples as if they were about to be ripped off my tits. Judging by the direction the bells were being tugged, I was being told to get up off my knees, so I did. Then I followed my distended nipples several feet until I bumped into a table that hit me in the belly. A hand pushed me down hard so I lay flat on the table. My legs were spread and I felt my ankles taped to the table legs several times. Then a leather belt -- I could tell by the feel of it -- wrapped around my back and bound me to the top of the table.
Someone tickled me and I wriggled against the table. Of course, I couldn't move more than an inch or so. I figured that must have been what they were testing. Another hand smacked my ass hard to get me to be still and I complied.
Then I waited again in black silence, no one touching me, no one paying any attention to me. The only change in my environment I could even pick up was a slight burning scent.
But even that didn't cause anything to happen.
At least not for several minutes.
Eventually, I felt a hand on my back. It held me hard against the wood furniture I was bound to.
Then, suddenly, I felt the fury of nine hells as something white hot pressed into the tender flesh of my ass. I yelped even through the gag, and I could tell I was crying real tears inside the mask. My body convulsed from a pain like I'd never felt before. Every nerve that was attached to the spot where I had been burned sent its message of torture until the rest of my body was aware and sharing the torment.
Still, the pain and the burning continued. I felt I might pass out but a swat on my other ass cheek kept me awake and aware.
"Don't you pass out on us, Cow," said a gruff male voice, coming like a whisper through the leather mask. He must have been right at her ear to even get through. "We want you to be with us for every bit of this."
Eventually, the heat and pressure on my ass relented and I smelled the odor of charred skin -- my charred skin. I whimpered and shook against my bonds.
"Now you have our mark, Cow. You belong to us."
Holy shit! The realization hit me. These motherfuckers had branded me! Not a tat. Not a piercing. But an actual fucking white-hot branding iron!
But my humiliation and torture wasn't over. The man behind me grabbed both cheeks and spread my ass apart, exposing the vulnerable pucker of my anus. I shuddered at the idea of the invasion I knew was coming.
Only, it didn't come. Not yet anyway.
Instead, my ass cheeks were kept spread apart and a leather belt slammed down against my available rosebud. I started to cry again and whimpered through my gag. But the blows rained down as I counted them just to give my brain something to focus on other than the pain.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Each blow struck me directly in the center, and I wondered if they had broken the skin. Not only that, but one of the assholes was squeezing my ass cheek where the branding was still throbbing, making it worse.
Eleven.
Twelve.
Thirteen.
Fourteen.
Then a long pause. I waited.
Smack. Number fifteen hit and I knew the motherfucking had turned the belt around to hit my asshole with the metal buckle for that one.
I heaved labored, weary, but heavy breaths against the tabletop. I wasn't sure how much more I could take. Madame Wistena had warned me. But I was so sure I wanted this. Writing it was one thing. Experiencing it was definitely another.
Before the stinging was allowed to fade, it was apparently time to begin the anal invasion I had previously expected.
No lube.
No tenderness.
I grunted against the gag as the fat cock pushed against me. I tried to relax. I knew it would be smoother and less painful if I relaxed. Even more if I pushed against it to open it for the intruder. But my brain and my body couldn't sync up. Instead of relaxing, I clenched, making it that much more painful as the man pushed his way inside my rectum.
"Fuck, she's tight," I heard as a muffled sound through the mask.
Eventually, my asshole loosened up and let him in far enough to keep pushing without so much pain. Then he went balls deep and held himself there for several moments. I gathered breath through my nose as best I could, but they were coming too fast and too shallow.
Without warning, he jerked out -- but not all the way -- and then rammed inside me again. Then again. And again. Only after pounding me rapidly several times did he dare to let his dick actually leave my asshole. But before it could return to shape, he slammed his cock back inside me and jackhammered me without a single trace of concern for my well-being.
After a few minutes, he squirted deep inside me, and I felt it drain around the edges of his cock as he softened and pulled out. But any empty feeling was quickly replaced by another man's cock. This one was thinner, thank goodness, but at least two inches longer, and I felt like he might be visible through my belly if I hadn't been lying flat on the table.
This guy had a lot more stamina and he pumped me for what felt like fifteen or so minutes before he too filled my ass with cum and pulled to allow his juices to dribble down my thighs and onto the floor beneath me.
Finally, one last cock entered me. Only this one wasn't warm or even fleshy. It felt cold, plastic, fake, and I figured one of my abusers was a woman with a strap-on. I knew from the first push this one was a combination of the first dick's girth and the second dick's length. In other words, it was truly a monster.
But she obviously didn't care.
She pushed the tip against my ravaged and sore asshole until her fake prick gained an inch or so of victory. Then she kept forcing it in further, stretching me wide in the deepest places inside me that way. When she stopped, I knew I'd never been filled quite as fully as I was then, not even the many times I'd been fucked on this magical journey through my fictional worlds.
Rather than pulling out and pumping me, she merely let it remain as she started to slap my ass -- thankfully not the cheek with the brand. After several whacks with her open palm, she finally began to pump that monster strap-on with the kind of force that made the table keep pushing forward. So she grabbed my waist to hold me still and kept up the strong, deliberate pounding.
I grunted.
She, of course, lasted the longest and after what felt like an hour of being filled to capacity, she pulled out except for the tip, then reached between my legs and squeezed the fuck out of my clit. At the same time, she thrust the beast inside me so far I felt my skin tear, and I knew that the only fluid I'd be draining during this pounding would be blood, not cum.
In spite of the railing pain, I orgasmed. I came hard.
Then she left me empty. No one touched me again, and I assumed my ordeal was over. I welcomed the opportunity to fall asleep and awaken in a new world from my stories.
Only, I couldn't.
The pain was too present.
Each time I shut my eyes, I only felt the bruises on my ass or the stinging from the brand. There was no chance of rest. Eventually, my hood was removed, but the room was dark and I still couldn't see.
Hours passed.
There was a brief moment of light when the door to the room opened and was shut again. I heard footsteps approach behind me. Fingers traced the pattern of my brand -- which I realize I still hadn't seen.
Then...
Smack!
A belt thwacked hard against my ass, right on the brand. I yelped around the gag, which still hadn't been removed when the hood had been taken off.
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
Each blow landed on the brand. Clearly they were targeting my most painful spot. I whimpered and shuddered in my bonds.
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
And then silence.
Breath against my ear in the dark.
"You're absolutely perfect, Cow. Simply breathtaking."
I moaned mostly from the renewed pain.
"Rest now, darling," the man said.
I wanted to tell him that I had tried, that I couldn't, that the pain would allow me to relax, but he still hadn't removed my gag. Instead, I felt a needle plunge into my arm. Then a sort of bruising feeling just below the skin. And then my brain felt fuzz invade each of my thoughts. Then nothing.
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