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|© Copyright 2012 - AmyAmy and all that stuff. This work may not be reproduced for profit or without this attribution.|
|Storycodes: F/f; D/s; bond; chain; armbinder; gag; hogtie; susp; enslave; bdsm; whip; punish; torment; toys; oral; climax; reluct/nc; XX||
|Betrayal Chapter 3: Getting To Know You AmyAmy F/f; D/s; bond; chain; armbinder; gag; hogtie; susp; enslave; bdsm; whip; punish; torment; toys; oral; climax; reluct/nc; XX|
|continued from chapter two
Chapter Ten: Getting To Know You
The next morning Sarah let herself into the room. She was alone. I was waiting on my knees as usual.
“Good morning slut. I'm glad you know how to greet your Mistress.”
She leaned over and grabbed a handful of my hair and dragged my head back, forcing my mouth open. She forced a passionate kiss on me, her tongue probing hot and deep. Then she pushed me away. I fell backwards, catching myself on my elbows.
“Let's establish the ground rules. I'm sure you know the drill... You're a slave, property, chattel, animal, pet, a toy, less than human, and lower than the lowest whore. You think you understand and accept this, but … you don't. I will make you understand. Now, I'm sure you know the basics. You may refer to me as Mistress, or Mistress Sarah, or if we are in public you may call me Miss Sarah, everyone else is Sir or Mistress unless I tell you otherwise. What else? You don’t kiss worth shit and that’s just won’t do. You will be punished, starting now.”
Without further ado, she grabbed me by the ankle and dragged me by the leg down to the bathroom, administering a fierce carpet burn in the process. My eyes were already watering. She dragged me into the bathroom and shackled my left ankle by a short chain to a point by the drain in the middle of the floor, picked up my shoes and left, slamming the door behind her. I was naked in the bathroom, without even the thin mat Master Lucas had used. She didn't return immediately, so I tested the limits of my movement. I couldn't reach any of the taps or the toilet, though it would be possible for me to pee down the central drainage grate.
Several hours later she returned, dressed from head to toe in a black rubber catsuit. I'd never seen anything like it before. I was practically mesmerized. With high-heels she was over six feet tall, and as I had already discovered she was strong enough to throw me around like a doll. The suit she wore had a full hood that covered her face, showing only her eyes and mouth. Her long blonde hair emerged from a hole in the top of the hood, falling in a ponytail behind her.
A distinctive feature of her suit was that it had no crotch, and her shaven pussy was gratuitously framed and exposed. This was also a revelation to me. I'd never imagined anything like it. It seemed logical that she intended to put her pussy to use in some important way, as if it were a weapon to batter me down.
“Are you a thirsty slut? Gagging for your regular dose of cum?” She paused, put her head on one side and made a patronising little query noise. “Are you?”
I didn't know what to say. She smacked me across the face.
“Answer me you cunt!” She screamed in my face.
I began to cry and blubber.
“Sorry Mistress. Sorry Mistress. Yes Mistress, this slut is very thirsty for cum,” I said. I collapsed so easily at the slightest physical push.
“That's good. Well I'm full of Lucas’ cum right now. You can eat it out of me,” she said with a sneer.
She pushed me over onto my back and climbed onto my face, pushing her pussy at me. She smeared her sticky, slippery pussy lips all over my face. One way or another, she was really wet. Her musky smell was extremely strong. I was used to smelling men, and there is something a bit sexy about that, but the smell of another woman was a different thing, and it was not easy to get used to it.
“Get licking slut. If you don't make me cum quickly enough then your punishments will increase.”
I did my best of course, but I had no experience in pleasing a woman that way. I licked and suckled at her clit, which was quite monstrous, circled her lips with my tongue, and dipped into her seeking for the promised cum. It was dribbling out of her gradually as I worked on her. She seemed to be enjoying my efforts but wasn't rising easily to an orgasm. It occurred to me that some women could take a long time to cum. I was certain to be punished for slowness, but I understood that I was probably going to be punished anyway, because she liked doing it. I wasn't sure if my efforts would really determine the severity or not.
I worked and worked on her pussy, which seemed to be about as insensitive as her rubber suit, and though she continued to coat me with slime and stay wet I couldn't sense anything building inside her. I was getting tired, and increasingly nervous and frantic that if I failed to make her cum at all I would really be in at the deep end. No matter how I tried I could not raise her excitement any further. I daren’t give up, regardless of how exhausted I became. The longer it went on the more and more I began to dread the inevitable punishment for my failure.
“Dear me, your appetite really must be entirely for cock because your pussy licking is worse than your kissing.” She gave a sigh. “You can stop now. There really isn’t any point in you continuing, it’s just irritating.”
“Sorry Mistress. Sorry. Sorry,” I whimpered.
“Poor little slut. Don’t worry. I’m not going to punish you. It’s not your fault that you’re useless. It’s your education that’s lacking not your application.”
I gave a tiny gasp of relief. Yet I still dreaded the punishment. A few minutes ago she had told me that I would be punished and now she was saying the opposite. If she wanted to confuse me she was doing a good job. This apparent reprieve was probably some kind of fake-out that would only be followed by a punishment even more brutal than I had first imagined. I wasn’t sure what was happening when she lowered her body onto mine, reaching her face towards my crotch. She shimmied forward, her pussy still aimed towards my face, smearing her juices all over my neck and chest. The weight of her on my ribs made breathing difficult and I began to feel faint and breathless.
Then she touched my sex with her tongue. At first it was barely a touch. I could feel her breath, hot and heavy blowing across that sensitive part of me. I didn’t know if she meant to bite me or lick me. Then her tongue came again, like electricity on the ends of my nerves. I shuddered though she had barely touched me. At that time, in that place, helpless as I was, the possibility of feeling a little pleasure rather than pain blew a fuse in my mind. I would never be quite the same. That is how they get you. It isn’t the moments when you can see how they’re breaking you down and training you to behave, it’s at the moment that you don’t expect what’s coming and your own response is even more surprising.
“Oh, you need this so much more than I imagined,” she said.
“Do you want me to make you cum? Do you? It won’t be hard.”
“Have you ever cum for a woman before, slut?”
“If you want to cum, you need to ask nicely. I need to know that this is something you want. I’m not forcing it on you. You can have it if it’s your wish.”
Even though the idea of a woman making me feel aroused was disturbing, there was nothing fake about the pleasure. She was good at making me want more.
“Please Mistress. I beg you. Make me cum. I want you to make me cum so desperately. I need it so much right now.”
And then she did. Oh yes. She did, and she did it so well. With just her tongue and her lips she took me right out of my body, and though she was so gentle, I was screaming – but it wasn’t pain – I was screaming with pleasure, which I had never done before in my life. Afterwards, when she was done I couldn’t stop shivering, shaking like a leaf in the wind.
Afterwards, she climbed off me and walked around so that we could look each other in the face. She leaned down, the weight of her body on me, her chest supported by her outstretched arms. Her face was no more than six inches from mine. Her breath smelled of coffee and garlic.
“Did you learn anything slut? I hope you did. I don’t need to show you again do I? I mean, I could. I really don’t mind if it means you do a better job for me.”
“Sorry Mistress,” I said. I was afraid to say more.
“Answer me properly. Tell me how you feel. Tell me what you learned.”
“Sorry Mistress. That was wonderful. I wish I could feel it again, but Mistress must decide if that is right. I think… I think I learned a little. Not much. I will do better next time. I will try my best.”
“The reason you can’t make anyone feel good is that you don’t want to do it. You’re not really a very good slut. A little bit frigid really when it comes to women. You don’t enjoy licking pussy and you don’t despite having one of your own, you don’t know your way around one. It isn’t enough to pretend, at least, when you pretend as badly as you do. You need to find enjoyment in your tasks or you will not last long. You should need to please. It is not enough to fear to fail. You need to show more confidence. Can you do that for me? Just a little at first? I know it’s not as nice as a big hot cock, but I wish you would at least try, just for me.”
“Thank you Mistress Sarah.”
“Good girl. Now, I think you are too worn out to be worth bothering with any longer today. What you need is a little rest. But, you haven’t done very well, so you know there has to be some punishment, don’t you? You need it to help you learn. There has to be a carrot and a stick. Let me tell you about the carrot. That orgasm you had earlier, well, there are better things than that to come. Think about it.”
“As for your punishment, if you ask for it nicely it might make me like you better.”
“Please Mistress. Punish me. Please punish me as you see fit. Please teach me a firm lesson. I want to do better.”
“That’s not too bad. Alright, you shall get your punishment. You do really want it don’t you?”
“Yes Mistress. Please let me have your punishment. I beg you, do not spare me. I don’t presume, but I am a filthy slut, just a stupid piece of meat. Mistress, let it be a strong punishment to make me learn how to please you.”
“Now that sounds a bit more like it. How hard did you have to beg Lucas to make you his slave? Did you plead and lick his feet? Did you wear him down over days until he finally agreed? Your tiny tits and skinny figure are not what he likes. It must have been hard.”
I didn’t know how to answer. I couldn’t believe what she was saying. Was this some kind of horrible, cruel trick? Didn’t she know that he had made me a prisoner against my will? Did she seriously imagine that anyone could want any of this? Surely, she had to know? This had to be a nasty joke. Should I tell the truth, or should I just I just nod and smile. If I answered in a way that made her seem wrong she might become very angry.
“Mistress. I’m sorry. I did not beg Master Lucas. I did not. He made me his prisoner and his slave against my will. He punishes me viciously if I don’t obey him. I never asked for any of this. Please, I just want to go home.”
I watched, waiting for her response. Time seemed to stand still.
Chapter Eleven: Own Worst Enemy
She took a sharp sudden breath. I thought she was about to explode. I felt the weight of her on top of me, crushing my resolve. For an instant there was an odd look on her face, and then it was gone. She exhaled slowly and took a long deep breath before she spoke another word.
“Honestly slut, weren’t you just begging me for a strong punishment to teach you to be a better pussy licker? Why are you lying to me? Lucas told me how you were always at him to take you away from Hong Kong so you could be his bondage slut whore full-time without your family finding out about your dirty little subbie secret.”
“Sorry. No Mistress. No. It wasn’t like that.”
“Really? But I know you even made up a slavery contract for him. I’ve seen it. It’s your handwriting isn’t it? So cute and girly.”
I did write that thing, but only days ago, and he would have punished me if I hadn’t done it.
“He told me how desirable you looked when you presented yourself to him in chains and pressed the keys into his hand. Are you really saying that he made all that up? Answer me honestly now. Are you … really … saying that? It is a very serious accusation to make against your Master. According to the rules of the Association it is not permitted to make somebody a slave against their will or coerce them to choose slavery. Lucas could be in trouble with people a lot worse than the police if I take your words seriously.”
I wanted to tell her it was all a lie. I wanted to say that Lucas was a disgusting woman-hating liar who had crushed my naïve girlish dreams like petals under the tracks of a tank. I wanted to tell her he had tortured and brutalised me until I thought I would go mad. Perhaps he had succeeded and I was already mad, broken in mind and spirit, because I did not dare say it.
“Why are you hesitating? We both know you want this, right? Well, maybe you don’t want me, but Lucas at least. Do I have to ask him what’s going on here?”
Her last phrase finished me. I was shattered completely. Then it all came pouring out, lie after lie after lie – whatever I thought she wanted to hear – I would do anything to avoid the punishment Lucas would inflict on me if he found out what I’d said about him.
“Sorry. Sorry Mistress. This slut is such a stupid, stupid liar. Of course I want this, I want it so badly. I need it in every cell of my body. I don’t even care if it’s you instead of him as long as you care enough to make me feel that special way that he can … when he makes me feel like nothing, like an empty object waiting to be filled with his cum. Since the moment I saw him I knew I had to be his property. I know it’s a foolish thing to wish for. I know I’m not worthy. I still can’t believe that he’s taken such a dirty piece of meat as his own… As his very own, and taken so much time, so much effort, to train me into something useful to him. I’m sorry Mistress but I have to pretend. I have to pretend that it’s all against my will because that’s the part that really makes me hot. I lie to myself every second. You understand don’t you Mistress? I was just trying to make it all work. I’m sorry I lied. I won’t do it again unless you tell me to. Please, I know I will be punished for this, you won’t need to explain why.”
Sarah closed her eyes, squeezing them tight, as if they were itching or sore. Her breath came slow and heavy.
“I understand.” She paused to breathe again. “Yes. I understand. I knew you were lying of course. As you’ve made a clean breast of it I won’t punish you for that, just this once. From now on I expect the truth from you. I want the innermost truth that you can barely face yourself. It will be better for both of us if you can give me that. I am trying to help you be the best slave possible.”
“Thank you Mistress.”
“You tell yourself this is against your will so you’ll feel that fear, that humiliation but the true thrill is to be submerged in it, to swim in it. If you immerse yourself completely in your role, if you totally abolish yourself and make your master, any master, into your entire world you can move beyond that.”
She spoke with passion, as if it wasn’t an act, as if she was trying to explain something crucial that I had misunderstood.
“You can have that feeling all the time. Every single thing you do, every breath, every mundane trivial action will enslave you further. When everything you do is an act of submission that you are unable to resist in yourself, you will see you are enslaved more completely than any chain or binding or punishment can achieve. Once you know that helplessness, that need in yourself, you will understand you can never escape and never resist. When you understand you are a slave because you need to be a slave more desperately than anything else, then you have found your nirvana, the nirvana of a sub.”
I could barely hear her words as they washed over me. I was bound up in myself and what I’d done. Whatever she had to say it sounded like pompous nonsense to me. What did her twisted opinions matter? I had to say something though, or she would hurt me.
“Yes Mistress. I understand. I’m just a little afraid of that. Will you help me stop being afraid?”
I felt as if the last remnant of self-respect had been burned out of me and turned into a horrible black ash that filled my heart. It was remotely possible that Sarah might have helped me if she had genuinely believed that Lucas was doing this against my will. Any hope of that was gone for good now.
Losing all chance of escape was not the worst of it. The awful thing was that I couldn’t even try to seize a chance; that I had lied outrageously to steal it from myself; that I was so afraid that I had ceased to exist as a person. I had always thought that a person who is not prepared to struggle for their happiness does not deserve it; their misery is a burden on everyone around them. I had become that burden and it weighed as heavy on me as on those around me. They were right to treat me like a thing because I lacked the qualities that would make me a human being.
I was so numb and deadened that whatever she said next didn’t register at all. I didn’t pay attention to her leaving then returning with an armful of rubber and metal. It was only when she began forcing my arms behind me and into a heavy rubber sleeve that I became aware of my surroundings again. My back was frozen from the tiled floor and the tile pattern was imprinted on my flesh. I was hungry, thirsty, tired and sore. She crossed the straps on the sleeve over my chest, framing my naked breasts and buckled them tight. When she started to tighten the sleeve around my arms, pulling them tightly together behind my back, it started to hurt and I winced at the pain.
The realisation that my arms and hands were completely useless sank in and a small whimper of despair escaped from me: this had to be the start of the punishment. I had dared to hope it would be delayed a little longer.
“Did you feel that slut? This is what we call a single sleeve arm-binder. This one is made from heavy rubber and is a little more give than the leather ones. It’s good to start off with. You can stretch it a little to get some movement but it will always win in the end. Fighting it would be a good way to warm up quickly, so once I’ve finished with the straps feel free. There is no way you can possibly escape it.”
She tightened and buckled up more of the straps and my arms were pulled even closer together, giving the impression that I was forcing my chest forward, though I wasn’t really doing that at all; it was more a kind of lifting. By the time she finished my shoulders were already aching. This simple restraint was more of a punishment than I would have guessed from seeing it.
“How does that feel slut? Nice and tight? Properly controlled? Sufficiently helpless?”
“Yes Mistress. Thank you Mistress. It is very tight and it hurts.”
“As it should.”
Then she moved around to my ankles, which were close together. She buckled a heavy rubber cuff around each one. Then she locked a metal bar to one cuff with a small padlock that also secured the cuff in place.
“Spread your legs as wide as you can slut.”
I complied silently and she extended the bar – apparently it was telescopic – and secured the other end of it to the second cuff. Forcing my legs open a little further, she put another padlock through some holes in the bar that evidently served to secure it in the extended position. I could feel a stretch inside my thighs. It wasn’t painful though I could imagine it might start to ache over time.
“There you are, is that too wide slut?”
“No Mistress. It aches a little. Thank you Mistress.”
“Perhaps I should stretch it a little wider?”
I wanted to say no, but I restrained myself. She looked at me and laughed.
“Good. We’re just getting started.”
It felt very strange to have the bar holding my legs open. No matter how I bent my knees or tried to wiggle about, it held them spread wide without fail. There was no way around it. Though I had some scope to bend and straighten my legs to ease the onset of cramps it was always painful and awkward. I didn’t think I would be able to stand with my legs like this and it would be hard to roll over even if my arms weren’t bound tight behind me. With my legs stretched so I had very little movement in my hips and many kinds of movement would be practically impossible or at least very painful.
She left me alone again. The time passed slowly and my physical predicament began to distract me from my mental anguish. If only I wasn’t such a terrible coward I might not be in this situation.
When she returned, she had a glass of water and she held it to my lips until I drank it all. I was acutely aware of my dependence on her. She filled the glass and brought it to me again.
“Drink it all slut. You will need it.”
I did as I was told and then she brought a third glass. So much water helped to take the edge off my hunger a little. I knew her eventual plan might be to make me piss myself but if that was the case there would be little point fighting it.
Once she was done she started to fit a kind of harness to my head made from heavy rubber straps. A single strap went from the back of my head to the front where it split into two and divided either side of my nose. She forced a rubber coated metal ring into my mouth and settled it in place behind my teeth. It was like the ring gag trainer I’d worn before, yet different. The straps either side of my nose came down and joined onto straps coming out of the sides of the ring. She pulled them tight and around the back of my head, where she must have buckled them in place or something. The ring was held firmly in place and there was no way I could work it out with my tongue. The nose straps continued on past their join with the ring straps and dangled loose at the sides of my jaw. She quickly fixed this by buckling them tightly under my chin, pulling the ring down against my lower jaw. Then she pulled the central head strap tight, pulling in the opposite direction and buckled it to something at the back of my head.
It felt as if my head were being squeezed from all directions. The straps splitting either side of my nose interfered with my vision and irritated my eyes whenever I blinked. The other straps cut into me and the ring was making my jaw go numb. I had worn the ring gag before, but this one was bigger.
“How does that feel slut? Nice and tight? Just tell me if you want me to loosen it a little.”
I didn’t believe an answer was expected, but she knelt down by my face and yanked my hair back sharply, making me look up at her. My eyes were watering, half obscured by the straps.
“I asked you a question,” she snarled.
I tried to apologise, but all that came out was a jumble of half-made vowel sounds.
“What was that?” She asked.
I tried to speak again, but of course I could not move my jaw. I think she could make out what I was trying to say.
“I’m sorry Mistress. It’s very tight. Thank you Mistress.”
“Lost your tongue? Oh no, here it is,” she said.
She grabbed my tongue between her thumb and finger and pulled on it hard. It really hurt me. She had to grab very hard to get a grip on the slippery tongue. Even once she had let go it was still sore.
“That hurts doesn’t it? You could benefit from a tongue piercing to help your pussy licking technique but you need to have some technique before that’s worthwhile, don’t you? I’m looking forward to piercing that tongue of yours, but not today. If you had a lot of metal in you, it would help dispel that lingering illusion you have of your humanity.”
What illusion? Was she mad? I knew I was just a thing to these people, just a toy for them to play with and smash. If they made me scream or howl or weep, it was just like pulling the string on a talking doll for them. The idea of her piercing me, putting metal rings in whatever places she could imagine would most humiliate and control me was frightening, horrible, disgusting even, but it couldn’t take away my humanity when I’d already given that up by myself. Did they really need new ways to hurt me? They already had so many.
Tears clouded my eyes. The pain in my tongue didn’t let up in a hurry. She was preparing ropes and I soon felt them on my flesh. She began by making a kind of rope belt and then the ropes were threaded through my legs, pulled out the front and then tied back onto the belt, cutting into my sex in a way that spread the lips wide open. I had seen pictures of Japanese rope bondage and wondered if she intended to do something like that, but she had nothing so complex in mind. The next I knew she was fastening a cold lump of plastic in place with the rope so that it was pressed firm against my sex and my clit in particular. She did quite a lot more rope work to hold this thing firmly in place. Apparently it had a long handle that stuck out beneath it. Every little movement served to stimulate my sex or press this lump harder against me.
“Do you know what this is? Surely you do? A slut like you must have had one of these of her own, and perhaps put it to frequent use. You’ll learn in time that stimulation can become punishment. That lesson will start very shortly in fact.”
I had no idea what the thing was, no idea at all. I could guess that it would do something to my pussy. I hoped it would not give me electric shocks. I dreaded that was its purpose.
Sarah wasn’t done securing me though. She undid the chain on my ankle and locked it to the padlock in the middle of the bar between my legs. Then she made me lie back and pulled on my head. I nearly choked when the great puddle of drool that had built up in my mouth washed back to my throat and I was wracked with coughing. I had a horrible flashback to Lucas’ punishment of before and started to panic, thrashing about madly. It was quite futile as I could hardly move.
Sarah pulled hard on my head, stretching my neck and my body out. I managed to stop my stuggles and suppress the rising panic. When I tried to move again I could feel something was secured to the top of the harness on my head, holding it almost motionless. I could hear Sarah locking a padlock to a chain. I was stretched out immobile on the floor, with very little freedom of movement. With my legs spread wide there would be no way to even twist over onto my front.
“I don’t want you kicking out the plug or getting tangled in the wire. This way you can’t move a muscle, though your arms are probably causing you some pain now. Don’t worry. Your thighs and your jaw will soon distract you from that.”
Then she plugged in the device between my legs and clicked the switch. I felt a deep shaking vibration that travelled right up through my core. I let out a noise of exclamation through the ring gag and Sarah laughed.
“Strong, isn’t it? Maybe you only used battery vibrators before? This is something different. It really makes a girl feel something. I think we can agree on that.”
“Yes Mistress,” I tried to say.
The vibrations felt like they were turning my insides to goo. I wondered if I was starting to gush out between my legs. The sensation of arousal was so strong. I knew that wasn’t really possible, but it felt that way. I was probably leaking quite a lot, but not the torrent I imagined.
“This is the classic mains vibrator, or as they jokingly call them ‘massager’, on a timer switch punishment. In my experience it turns a girl to jelly in about fifteen minutes. After that it starts to become increasingly unpleasant. Just at the point that your sex is starting to go completely numb from the vibrations the timer shuts it off to let you regain sensation. Then, after you’ve had a while to really appreciate the discomfort of your bondage it will start up again. It goes on and on. You don’t get to sleep. You don’t get to rest. At first you may cum a few times, but later you will become over-sensitized and it will be really uncomfortable. Then you will start to long for the orgasm that never comes as you hang on the edge of it until once again it shuts off leaving you numb, frustrated and aching. It will hurt. It’s not a punishment that can be mistaken for pleasure, even though to a casual observer it might look like you’re enjoying it.”
She paused, leaning over to play with my nipples.
“There’s a lesson here: the longer you can prolong the pleasure the shorter the time spent in pain will be. Multiple orgasms aren’t something that just happen. They are something you have to work to learn. With practice you can have more before you slide completely over the edge. You should practice learning not to follow the orgasm through to its conclusion, but to do that you need pelvic floor strength and control. Here’s your chance to work on it.”
It turned out that she had summed it up the punishment pretty accurately. She forgot to mention just how much my arms would begin to hurt, or how cold my bum cheeks would become resting on the tiled floor, or how bad the cramps in my jaw, my shoulders and inner thighs would be. At times the cramps were terrible agony that blotted out the vibrator completely. At other times they were the least of my worries.
Chapter Twelve: Deserving Worse Than This
Though my mouth felt dried out and my tongue desiccated, I frequently suffered from fits of choking induced by the cold pool of drool that had formed in the bottom of my mouth trickling back into my throat.
The ring gag is a powerful tool for breaking someone down, especially when they are restrained. It’s hard to keep any self-respect when you’re sticking your dried up tongue out through a hole and trying to tip the puddle of cold drool that forms out down your chin rather than choke on it. Unlike most other gags there is no risk of drowning in your own vomit if it causes you to throw up, but it is awful to wear for any length of time, and in most ways far worse than ball or butterfly gags.
Though being penetrated by a penis gag is terrifying and continually induces a fear of choking, even with a breathing tube, the risk of actual choking or vomiting is far too great to wear unattended. Sarah knew this when she decided to use the ring gag trainer on me.
Humiliatingly gagged and trapped in tight bondage, I came and came, and when I didn’t think it was possible I managed to cum some more. I have no idea how long I spent on that floor like that. It felt like hours. Sarah implied it was an entire night. I don’t know if that was true, but it had to be some number of hours.
Despite the many unpleasant aspects, the experience wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I’d feared. There was pain, considerable pain, or at least unpleasantness of a severe degree, but compared to Lucas’ punishment it was mild. When Lucas had attacked me I had been terrified. I was afraid of the unknown and I feared for my life in a simple and genuine way. This punishment felt very different to that. Sarah had taken her time in binding me, and it hadn’t been a shocking or brutal experience. She had given me a good idea of what to expect during the time I was left alone. Other than the moment of initial shock when she turned on the vibrator, I hadn’t been scared. The most frightening part was choking on drool, which I eventually learned to avoid. There were even moments when I felt a kind of pleasure, even if it was just an illusion from the absence of pain.
I had a suspicion that though her actions seemed arbitrary, Sarah has planned exactly what she was doing. The experience had really focused my attention on my sex and my sexual parts. The bondage had hurt, but the orgasms had relieved that briefly, making them all the sweeter. If the goal was to make me long for more of the same it wasn’t working, but I would take it any time over one of Lucas’ punishments.
The most difficult part was coming to terms with the idea that I didn’t mind that much about being laid open sexually. My lack of resolve had put me in a bad position emotionally and that was far worse than the bondage or the vibrator. I understood that I would much rather be forced to orgasm until the vibration turned into pain rather than upset Lucas again. I certainly didn’t want to repeat the experience if I could avoid it, but it didn’t work as much of a punishment; it just felt like another thing that was done to me as a matter of routine.
When Sarah finally shut off the vibrator I was physically as well as mentally shattered but I didn’t feel as if I had been harmed. After the mental pain of realising what a useless coward I was I didn’t think a physical thing could touch me, but it could. It hit me hard. I was too exhausted to think or feel mental pain any longer. The vibrations felt like they were mean little kicks right into my core that wouldn’t stop. It was a jarring pain that shot right up my body from my crotch all the way up to my diaphragm: a feeling like I’d been repeatedly punched in the gut. My arms had become two numb lumps of flesh, and though they had ceased to hurt, I wasn’t sure that was a good thing at all.
* * * * *
“I hope you enjoyed your night of punishment, slut. As I promised it was not severe, but that’s only because it’s part of your education. You need to prove to me now that you’ve learned something or else I might have to think of a real punishment.”
I gave a kind of wail. Even I was surprised at how dry and cracked my voice sounded. Despite my expectations I hadn’t wet myself, although my bladder was bursting. I must have lost so much fluid due to the gag that I didn’t need to pee out those three glasses of water.
I felt Sarah’s hands on my head, unfastening my head harness from the restraining chain and then she unlocked the chain to my spreader bar before removing the bar from between my legs. The initial sensation of relief was almost the same as pain but at the same time wonderful. I was so thankful to be able to close my poor stretched-out legs through ironically this made them hurt again.
Then she began to undo the straps on the arm-binder. The incremental rushes of blood into my arms made them burn with pain as if they were alight. Each strap she released added fuel to the fire. I wailed and grunted and whimpered at the pain. When she finally loosened the straps crossing my chest and began to tug the sleeve down I screamed at the burning. Finally, I was free but my arms still felt as if they had floated away from my body and the nerves had been connected up to something else, perhaps a machine that administered terrible pain through electric shocks and fire.
Sarah made no move to explain anything as she set about roughly rubbing life back into my arms. After a while the pain was replaced with a powerful prickling of pins and needles. It was still unpleasant but it didn’t induce fear as well as pain.
She locked my ankle back to the floor ring while I was still helpless and vanished for some period of time I was again unable to judge. She had removed the gag and vibrator but hadn’t removed all the ropes.
As my arms were free I took a gamble and with difficulty managed to undo the remaining ropes. I then relieved myself into the grate in the floor. With that done, I expected to lie awake worrying about getting in trouble for removing the rope, but I was so exhausted I fell asleep instantly.
Chapter Thirteen: Top From The Bottom
I awoke on my side, aching from where cold floor tiles had sucked the warmth from me. Sarah was shaking me.
“Wake up slut. I’ve brought you something to eat.”
Sarah was looking right in my face and her head on the floor next to mine. She had changed out of her black dominatrix outfit. She was wearing nothing but a black leather corset with attached suspenders that held up a pair of dark tan coloured, translucent rubber stockings. When she pulled herself up on her knees and offered me the bowl I sensed something almost gentle about her. For a few moments, she looked very different from the predatory beast I’d originally seen at the party.
I sat up and tool the proffered bowl of short soup. I was starving and it smelled delicious. There were no utensils so I drank it straight from the bowl and cleaned up with my fingers. While I ate Sarah had a few things to say to me. Afterwards, I was still hungry but I didn’t dare ask for more.
“Once you’re done it’s time to demonstrate what you’ve learned about pussy licking. I know you’ve only had one lesson, so I’m going to show you again. It will be a longer lesson than before because the state you’re in now it will take more skill to get anything out of you. How do you feel?”
“It feels like I’m still shaking from my taint to the base of my rib cage Mistress. I feel numb.”
“As I expected… It will require some dedication on my part to get you to cum when you feel like that, even when you are such a fucking slut. If you can learn to copy what I do you will be well on your way. Once I’m done it will be your turn, and obviously, if I’m not happy with your performance I’m going to punish you. A severe punishment will probably reduce your chance at success during the upcoming challenges, so you should strive to succeed or at least do well enough such that the punishment is not so severe. Do you know what I will do to punish you if you are very bad?”
“Sorry Mistress. I don’t Mistress.”
“Good slut. All you need to know if you will like it a lot less than what you had before. You will really want to avoid it happening again. If you have any sense you will want to avoid it happening at all. It’s best for both of us if you succeed in pleasing me.”
She took away the bowl and when she returned she had added a pair of high-heeled black patent leather court shoes to her outfit.
“I’m going to lie down so you can get on top of me. You will get a much better idea of how the dominant partner feels that way. Working from underneath is quite different than going down from above.” She gave a little giggle at that, as if she had made some kind of a joke, but if there was one it sailed over my head. There seemed to be cracks in her armour but I didn’t trust them. A nagging voice at the back of my mind kept reminding me that everything she did could be an act. I had no doubt that she was an accomplished actress. “In fact, why don’t you get into the part? You can call me slut and I’ll call you Mistress. You can treat me the way I’d treat you. You can work out how to do that can’t you?”
“Yes Mistress. If you wish Mistress.”
“I wish. For this time only. Until you cum. Then our game will be over.”
“Mistress, what if I don’t cum?”
“Then it ends when I admit defeat or when you make me cum before you do, if you choose to do so, and when Lucas gets back you can be the one to punish me properly for my failure. How would you like that?”
“Mistress, I don’t think that I could do it. I wouldn’t dare.”
“Well slut, you would have to, wouldn’t you? But that’s only if you don’t cum, and you will, but if you have an incentive to resist it will give you an insight into how a cruel Mistress might treat you and how she might behave if she wanted you to fail. Anytime you feel like diving in and making me cum for you, feel free to try. It’s really your opportunity here. I’m pretty sure Lucas would get a laugh out of seeing you rip a piece off me. It’s a risk I’m prepared to take to spice things up a little.”
The chain holding my ankle was no more than a foot long, but after some awkward wriggling, I managed to get myself into a position where I was kneeling, looking down at her bare breasts and corseted chest, my sex jammed into her face. Her nipples were large, dark, erect, but the most memorable thing – both fascinating and horrifying – they were pierced with heavy stainless steel rings. I’d noticed them earlier but had tried not to stare. Freed of such restrictions, I couldn’t take my eyes off them. I tried to imagine what they must feel like and why she had them that way, fearing and suspecting that I would receive something worse.
As if she could read my mind, she took my hands and placed them onto her breasts, making me touch the rings, pushing my fingers through them.
“I know you’ve been sneaking stares at them since you woke up. They are yours Mistress, please … do with them whatever you wish,” came her muffled words. Even though I was sitting on her face I could feel the heat in her voice as she begged me again. “Please… Mistress. Please.”
I could tell from looking at the flushed rash spreading across her chest and the state of those nipples that she was really into this. She liked me on top of her. She probably got a big thrill out of the risk she was taking and she was imagining the terrible humiliation of losing to me and it was making her hot. It was so exciting for her I thought I might actually be in with a chance.
Even though I was chained to the floor and had been a prisoner for weeks, I let myself dream, imagining the power and it was making me drunk. I didn’t have to work hard to get into the role because I had her underneath me and I knew from bitter experience that I could easily cut off her air until dots swam before her eyes. I hooked my fingers into the rings in her nipples, eerily warm to the touch, my other fingers groping her brutally.
She let out a muffled cry of pleasure and pain. I had the bitch by the tits. Even if she was bigger and stronger … well … the rings would rip out before she could throw me off, and the rings were so thick and set so deep that I doubted they would rip out at all.
I gripped her head tight with my thighs and let her feel the pressure. I was totally in control and I ground my numb pussy into her face, rubbing my juices all over her nose. I wanted her to be totally immersed in the scent of me – so that she couldn’t get the stink of me out of her nose, out of her hair, out of her flesh – she’d drowned me in her own smell earlier, and was reminded of it all the time I’d spent at the mercy of the vibrator. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t easily be able to wash away the smell of me afterwards.
I suppose if I’d thought about it more carefully I would have realised that whatever I did to her would come back to me times-ten in the future. Even if I won, she would still be in charge and I would still be the one chained to the floor. No matter how careless she might get she would never make the mistake of letting me off the chain without making me otherwise helpless. I think that perhaps even if it had occurred to me I would still have made the most of it because after being down for so long it just felt so good to be on top for once and to have an illusion of control, however brief or tenuous.
My juice was coming thick and fast, and I was thinking ‘lick that up you bitch’ – and she was – she was licking it up. It occurred to me that if I was so wet, I was a lot more excited than I had expected to be and that it would be easier to make me cum. I lifted myself up to take a break from her gentle, tickling tongue and she lifted her head to follow me. I squashed her down again and trapped her head in place once more, this time lifting up and stopping her from following.
Beneath me I could hear her gasping and her chest heaved with her laboured breathing. I leant down on it with my hands, pushing the air out of her and twisting her nipples so that at first a sound caught in her throat and then as I twisted harder, it turned into a high pitched squeal that cracked as she ran out of air. I slammed myself down, sealing her nose and mouth, suffocating her with her lungs empty.
Momentarily, the idea of seeing if I really could suffocate her, at least until she blacked out, seemed tantalisingly attractive, but I would still have no means of escape and Lucas would probably kill me for it. He would kill me in some horrific way beyond my imagining. Regretfully, I shifted and let Sarah breathe again. She hadn’t tried to fight me at all. She hadn’t shown any sign of fear or panic and she hadn’t bitten me. At that point I knew I was beaten.
I knew how breath control could be erotic, and before this nightmare began I had often held my breath to enhance the rare orgasms that I obtained from my furtive and all too uncommon masturbation sessions. I had felt it again when Sarah had been on top of me. Even using my advantage to make this trick work for me, and combining it with manipulation of her breasts, and the ministrations of my own tongue I knew that I would cum first.
It wasn’t that Sarah had any magic tricks to her pussy licking technique. Her approach was simply to combine relentless eagerness with a basic knowledge of what felt good. She quickly found the spots and movements I liked the best and timed them to ramp me up step by step. By comparison my own efforts were tentative and nervous, lacking both in confidence and focus. It seemed that once I found a hot spot it would melt away quickly and I wouldn’t know where or how to approach her next.
At first the sense of defeat helped kill my buzz and postpone my defeat, but she never let up and kept on licking away until I was far more attentive to what she was doing to me than what I was doing to her.
When I came it was not the best or most satisfying orgasm I’d ever had. I was feeling sore and tired, fed up with the whole thing really, but I just wanted it to be over and feel some relief. Even as I copied what she did to me I never felt that she was that into what I was doing to her. Her focus was always on what she did to me. It seemed like all she cared about was taking me higher, and that was pleasant by itself, erotic even, in a twisted way.
“Alright slut,” she said, pushing me off her. “You haven’t learned that much. I’m disappointed. You lack the will to succeed. Do I have to put the fear into you?”
“Sorry Mistress,” I whispered. There was no question who was in charge.
“So you should be, and so you will be. You simply don’t commit yourself, so you will be punished and it will not be easy. Also, in a day or two the other girls will be visiting and you will compete with them. If you do badly it will reflect on me. I will make you regret it if I am embarrassed.”
Other girls? Visiting? I didn’t know exactly what she meant but it sounded a lot like we would be repeating the contest that had just taken place, though probably with me in a less favourable starting position. Not only would I be licking a stranger’s pussy, but they might be licking mine. For all intents we would be animals performing for our masters, or like roosters fighting in a ring for money. The bird that loses is often killed. No part of this scenario was good. I would be humiliated in front of others and probably punished horribly in a way that would be even more debasing. I would be reduced to a mere sex toy in front of them.
Chapter Fourteen: The Fear
When my thoughts returned to the real world, Sarah was staring at me intently.
“You daydream too much. You need to keep your attention on your mistress. If you can’t learn to do that you will never improve. What do I have to do to make you listen?”
She made a noise of disgust and pounced on me, flipping me onto my front with ease. She sat on top of me and wrenched my arms up behind my back. I hardly resisted. It would have been futile anyway: she was far stronger than I and far more capable. I soon found my arms secured in the arm-binder again. She had made me helpless in the course of a few seconds and all that remained was for her to tighten the straps properly. My hands were palm to palm. I wiggled my fingers against each other inside the glove but there was barely room to move them.
The next thing I knew she was on a short step-ladder attaching a pulley block and dangling ropes to one of the steel roof beams. She dragged me roughly to my feet and it wasn’t long before one end of the rope was clipped onto a ring at the end of my arm-binder and then she hauled on the other rope, dragging my arms up behind me. I found myself forced to bend over so that I could lift my arms higher. I shuffled around as best I could to take the strain off my arms. The position was terribly fatiguing. I couldn’t imagine holding on like this for more than a minute or two.
Once she had me helpless and stressed she removed the chain from my ankle and connected the spreader bar to the ankle cuffs which had never been removed. She ratcheted the bar wide open and then spread my legs wider with a harsh kick that made me cry out with pain as it put a sudden pressure on my shoulders. She locked the bar in place, leaving me in pain.
“Don’t worry slut, if your shoulders dislocate it won’t matter. The agony you feel will make a good part of the punishment and you don’t need functional arms to lick pussy. I might not even bother relocating them for you.”
I had no idea if this was an empty threat or not. She could appear kind if she wanted to, soft or weak if it suited her, but this woman could be pure evil too. She had a knack of getting inside my head and finding ways to hurt me that weren’t necessarily physical. However, at that point the pain was completely real and it was considerable. I had a nasty feeling that she would find a way to turn the psychological screws too and it added into my fear.
As she replaced the horrid ring gag my fear continued to mount because I was sure I could not keep my shoulders tense enough to stop them popping out of their sockets for much longer. It felt as if my back was having spasms and that the backs of my legs were on fire. As I lost strength in my thighs all my weight went onto the ankle cuffs and they cut deep into my flesh.
This was no gentle restraint or bondage theatre. If she kept this up some part of me would be certain to snap in a very real and literal sense. I would be badly hurt and I would be denied medical attention. I might never recover properly if that happened. Even though I knew it was pointless, and that she might enjoy it, I began to scream. Despite the gag I screamed and screamed, not from the pain but from the fear.
“Oh, there’s something unique about the sound of a girl screaming through a ring gag isn’t there? Do you like it? It’s the sound of your own voice. That’s the only noise you can make, you’re just a shrieking beast. Every day, many such beasts are slaughtered without pity, despite their inarticulate cries.” She gave a little giggle, much like the one from before. “You think this hurts? The hurting hasn’t even begun yet.”
Then I heard her crack the whip. I couldn’t see it. I knew she had brought in such things when she brought in the other bondage paraphernalia, but I’d never been a position to get a good look at any of it. She draped the whip over my bottom. There were many strands and they would have tickled if I was in a more comfortable position. Later I would learn that Sarah called this device a flogger, not a whip, but at the time I didn’t care what jargon she preferred to describe it with. I heard a whistle and the feeling of air moving close to my buttocks followed by a loud and frightening crack. She had taken a close swing. Did she miss on purpose or was she just getting her distance?
“Remember this for future reference. Any minor infraction earns five strokes. They add up quickly when you’re a naughty girl. Serious breaches earn more, at my discretion. Of course, sometimes I may let the offended party choose how many strokes you get. Any day that you have strokes accumulated we will normally set aside a little time to administer them. This is best. You really don’t want them to build up, and strict regular discipline helps keep your attention focussed. There will always be special punishments for special occasions or misdeeds, but generally it will be predictable. You will be put in this position and whipped. Sometimes I will use the flogger, other times the crop. You will learn to fear both equally. Today you are getting ten strokes. You failed to make me cum and you didn’t even try properly, so that’s two mistakes. Sometimes I will make you count your own strokes, but not today. After all, this is your first time and you’re not very smart, so there’s a limit to what you can realistically manage.”
Then she made an odd sound of surprise.
“Wait. I forgot something. You really earned this last part. My nips are still burning from the job you did on me.”
With my head hanging down, and the drool running from the gag and forming a puddle on the floor beneath me, I could see what she was doing as she put a complicated metal clamp onto each of my nipples.
“I know you were so interested in my rings. You can’t wait to get some of your own. This really doesn’t feel the same, but it should help set your imagination racing.”
The pain in my nipples was bitter, but compared to my shoulders and the cuffs biting into my ankles it was really not that bad. There was something really demeaning about it though. The way she could exercise such freedom of access over a private part of me and turn something so feminine into a tool to hurt me, stung me inside more than it did physically.
She stroked my pussy with the whip handle and for a moment I wondered if she was about to force it up there, but she moved on, dangling the heavy leather strips across my bared cheeks. I wished for her to get it over with. Forget the whip; I couldn’t stand the position for much longer. Then she took another swing and it hit me. Wham. My entire left buttock lit up on fire. She struck again and my right buttock lit up the same. Again she stopped to tease me, drawing it out, letting me feel the leather barely touching me. My sore behind was taking my mind off my shoulders, but I couldn’t imagine what eight more strokes would feel like.
My movements set the weights hanging from the nipple clamps swinging afresh, stabbing me with fresh pains. The next two strokes licked around the sides of my bottom, but the fifth stroke caught me by surprise, striking up at my mound and the lips of my pussy. It probably wasn’t as hard as the others but it felt ten times as bad, and despite my bindings I lifted in the air. I let out a terrible shriek of pain. Nausea washed over me and I thought I was going to vomit.
“That one got your attention didn’t it? Where else do you think a lazy cunt ought to be whipped? A blow there can do some serious damage. That was a soft one but I’m sure you’ll be feeling it for a while.”
She aimed two more strokes at the fleshy part of my bottom, which already felt raw. Then bang, bang, two more hit me in the crotch and I felt like I was going to black out. There were spots before my eyes and I was hanging slack from the arm-binder, unable to hold myself up at all. The final stroke went across the side of my left buttock.
“If you earn some privileges then I might oil you up before I do this, or if you have earned clothing, you may keep it on to protect you unless you have been particularly bad. Oil or moisturiser helps stop the skin breaking and scarring. You’ll notice that you have had no such treatment, and I have raised some really nice weals on you. You really look like a slut who has been punished and you will probably wear those marks for a long time. As the scars start to build up, anyone who sees your skin will know instantly what you are. I hope they also act as a reminder to work harder in future.”
I was a struggle to keep my mind on her words because my ass and my crotch were burning. It felt as if my pussy had been through a shredder and there was definitely a lot of swelling going on down there already. Sarah removed the spreader bar and lowered my arms after a few moments. My shoulders hurt as if something had been torn, but it wasn’t unbearable. She noticed the way I winced as she helped me to lie face down on the floor. There was no way I could stand unaided.
“Unless you’re very supple your shoulders won’t dislocate at first. Then once they’ve been stretched and start to loosen up a bit they can start to pop out so easily that it can happen even without any bondage. When it happens the first few times it hurts so badly that you can black out. You’ll need to build up some strength so you can keep them in place to stop them coming out. Don’t imagine that the punishment will stop just because you fall unconscious, you can be sure you’ll feel every stroke afterwards regardless. As we both know, it doesn’t matter if you have the use of your arms or not. I imagine Lucas might think it funny if I cut them off.”
I could understand what she meant. I could still feel every stroke she’d given me burning away at my behind. If anything it was getting worse not better. I lay on the nipple clamps, with my face pressed into my ever-present drool puddle, which was cold and nasty, and every little motion made my nipples hurt too. She chained my ankle to the floor again then crouched down to talk to me.
“I’m not feeling very charitable right now, so you can stay like this for a while. I’ll come and release your arms when I’ve had a rest, unless Lucas gets back early, in which case I might not bother releasing you at all. If you want to earn something to sleep on, or clothes to wear, or some nice soothing ointment you really need to try a lot harder to please me. Your technique doesn’t matter at all at this point, but a dog-like desperate urge to please will make me wet in no-time. If this doesn’t motivate you I’m really going to have to get serious next time.” She stopped then and paused. When she continued her voice was softer, almost fearful. “There are worse things than being dead you know? And they happen to girls like you if you fail to please. I really want you to do better. You have to. You must try harder. I don’t want the memory of your fate burned into my mind, I’ve seen enough already. I don’t have much choice though, if it comes down to you or me, it will always be you.”
I rolled my eyes to look at her face, uncertain what I would see her. Would it be another performance? Her eyes were red, tears bursting their banks and streaking down the side of her nose. As soon as my gaze met hers she snapped her head sideways and stood up very quickly.
“Stupid slut. Don’t think I am soft. I won’t forgive you for this,” she said, and she stamped out, slamming the door behind her.
I still had no idea what was real and what was performance with her. What I could be sure of was that Lucas was a master performer too, alternating between cold indifference and passionate anger. I could believe we were no more than objects to him. If Sarah didn’t have what it took to make me do what he wanted then it would be bad for both of us. It was in both our interests for her to succeed.
I might get a kind of revenge by being useless and dragging her down with me, but I doubted it would give much satisfaction if Lucas took a blowtorch to me at the same time he took one to her. The easiest way to get through this would be to work a lot harder at being what they wanted… What he wanted… I would have to try a whole lot harder.
I would need to hone my performance to be as flawless as theirs and create the perfect bisexual-slave-slut. I would have to play the part of a girl who wanted them to treat her like shit and enjoyed every bit of it, even while she was screaming her lungs out in agony. If they couldn’t brainwash me I’d have to do it for them. Or was that how they planned to do it? If that was their scheme all along, I just had to remember that I had promised myself to do whatever it took to survive, no matter how hard it might be. I wasn’t going to give up just because I had to learn to please a woman or suffer regular beatings: my life was worth more than that.
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story continued in part four
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