Chapter 4 – A Talk with the Slut
With a steaming plate of scrambled eggs, fried ham, toast, and a cup of Coffee with Sugar, all cooked on a Coleman stove, we went downstairs to a very confused Heather. At first, she thought we were going to taunt her by eating breakfast in front of her. But Heather stayed quiet and waited for instructions.
Paula glared at me a bit when I asked her to handcuff Heather to the bars. I know she was thinking: ‘can’t we skip protocol, she’s not going to run with the two of us here?’ I told Paula to cuff Heather behind her back, wrist through the bars, with her naked butt sitting down. Once cuffed, I unlocked the gate, and we carried breakfast inside. I suggested Paula feed Heather and they both looked at me as if to say, ‘what are you up to?’ What I was up to was establishing a feeling of dominance and submission by making Heather dependent on Paula for her breakfast.
It was actually sweet watching the two of them. Heather was, no doubt, extremely hungry. And she hadn’t had real coffee in days. She was like a little bird, or a baby trying pudding for the first time. As soon as one mouthful was swallowed, her mouth was open ready for the next.
Paula was like the mother bird, smiling broadly at how much Heather was enjoying the meal she had fixed.
“Oh, god, I didn’t know scrambled eggs and cheese could taste this good!” Heather exclaimed.
I reached over and took the fork out of Paula’s hand.
“Heather,” I said with disappointment in my voice, “What did you forget?”
Heather looked at the fork, now in my hand. She was initially confused, then it hit her. “OH, I’m sorry sir. These taste good Ma'am! Thank you, Ma'am, Sir.”
Paula looked at me and tilted her head a bit, which I interpreted as “ok, what are you up to now?” But I think she was starting to trust me a bit more because she didn’t say anything.
After the little bird had wolfed down breakfast I asked, “Heather, do you know what I mean if I say we want to ‘check in’ with you?”
“I think so, Sir.”
“Paula, why don’t you ask her?” I suggested.
“Are you doing OK?” Paula asked, “I mean are you happy?”
After thinking a bit, Heather replied thoughtfully, “I wouldn’t say I’m happy. I’d say I’m home. And yes, I’m OK Ma'am, thanks for checking on me.”
“Heather,” Paula continued, “I’m going to need a bit more than that.”
“Ma'am, I had at least three dominants before my last one, Henry, who I broke up with right before we left on this trip. He decided he couldn’t give up his career to come,” Heather explained. “When I told him I was going anyway, he hit me, damn near knocked me out with one punch. That’s when Maggie let me stay at her place until we left on the trip.”
“None of my doms ever understood my needs. Henry was possessive but even he wasn’t really interested in a 24/7 D/s relationship, and they weren’t interested in the kind of restrictive bondage I need. We would do scenes that would end in sex, and it was good, but it just left an itch unscratched."
“And are we scratching that itch, Heather?” I asked.
“I mean, mostly, I guess. I am wet as hell, I can’t think about anything but getting off, and that’s hot. Being handcuffed to the bars all afternoon was really hot.”
“Are you saying you want more bondage?” Paula asked.
“Whatever you decide is best for me, Ma'am, Sir.” She replied.
“Message received, slut,” I answered with a smile.
“By the way, you’ve forgotten to use Ma'am or Sir at least three times in this conversation. I think a punishment will help you remember, don’t you?” I asked.
“Yes Sir," she said quietly.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Yes Sir," she said more firmly.
“Paula,” I instructed, “I think you should decide and administer the punishment.”
I wondered if Paula would object, get protective of Heather and refuse. But my belief that Paula was a natural Dom was reinforced when she agreed. She also must have believed that Heather was where she wanted to be. It’s true, women really do know how to hurt other women. Paula, without saying anything, grabbed Heather’s pectoral muscle between her thumb and forefinger. She pinched while pushing, hard, into the armpit. Heather surprised both of them by screaming. Paula just kept up the pressure.
“OH shit, that hurts... Ma'am.”
“Must not hurt enough,” Paula said calmly, “you almost forgot again.”
“I’m sorry Ma'am,” Heather said through gritted teeth as Paula kept up the pressure.
“Look me right in the eyes,” Paula said as she switched to the other pectoral muscle, “and tell me with your eyes when you think you’ve been punished enough.”
“Don’t look away! I want to see when you’ve had enough pain in your eyes,” Paula snapped.
After a few minutes, when tears were streaming down Heather’s face, Paula stopped. “What do you say slut.”
“Thank you for correcting me, Ma'am,” Heather replied.
I’d just had a wonderful orgasm a few hours before, thanks to Paula, but I was sporting a serious bulge to my shorts.
“Looks like you enjoy seeing sluts in pain?” Paula said, obviously looking at my crotch.
“She does squeal delightfully.” I smiled, “Perhaps I’ll let her say thank you as well.”
“OH NO, this slut doesn’t deserve that magnificent cock in her mouth right now and she certainly doesn’t deserve any of your cum.”
And with that Paula unzipped my shorts, took me in hand and mouth and gave me an outstanding blowjob just inches from the handcuffed Heather’s face. When I had finished ejaculating in Paula’s mouth, I assumed she would swallow but she turned to Heather and spat my load right in her face.
You go, Paula!
“So, Slut,” I said as we were picking up breakfast dishes and straightening up, “Thank you for sharing honestly this morning. I think it’s finally time for your first orgasm in bondage. In fact, I think it’s time for a gang bang. Tonight.” I could see her eyes light up and a huge smile spread across her cum encrusted face.
“But” I added, “there is one rule you must follow between now and your orgasm. Break the rule and you’ll wait weeks if not months. Since you’ve now learned to speak properly, you must not speak again until you cum. Not to Paula, not to me, and not to ANY of the others. No matter what they ask, what they say, what the situation, you may not speak, mouth words, use sign language or any other form of communication. I WILL review the camera recordings for the rest of today.” I said as I pointed to the two cameras. “If I hear or see anything, no orgasm for you. And the rule starts NOW. Do you understand?”
I could see Heather starting to say, “Yes Sir.” But she remembered just in time. She did nod.
“I won’t count that as a violation this first time, but don’t do it again or NO orgasm tonight,” I said sternly.
Heather looked confused.
“You nodded, that’s a form of communication, isn’t it?” I asked.
She was silent.
“Answer me Slut!” I snapped.
Heather now understood the game, she stayed silent and still.
Once we had locked the gate again, leaving Heather sitting on the floor, hands cuffed behind her to the bars, face covered with cum, we walked back upstairs.
“Are you more comfortable now?” I asked Paula, “You certainly seemed to let your dominant side out to play. I’ve never tried that pinch thing you did.”
“Yea, If this is what Heather wants, this is what Heather gets. When I used to switch with this guy, he used to do that pinch thing on me. God, he had strong hands, I couldn’t raise my arms above my shoulders for days after he bruised those muscles. I didn’t pinch Heather near that hard.”
Paula continued, “So, what’s with the silence thing, let me in on the game. And are you really going to let her cum tonight?”
“Just an idea,” I said, “the rest of the group isn’t really into BDSM like you and I are. I figured if I could get them to think of Heather, not as a friend and a member of the group, but as an object, a nuisance to their lives, and a risk to their lifestyle here then they will be more likely to treat Heather as she needs to be treated. I figure if Heather won’t talk to them, won’t even acknowledge them, then they are going to get pissed but also it will make her more of an object to them.”
“Devious, a little cruel, and risky,” Paula said thoughtfully.
“I know,” I agreed, “But it’s just for the time we’re here together and then we can reverse it. And you and I are here to watch over her.”
About that time the rest of the group started wandering into the kitchen, hung over and looking for breakfast. After everyone had some coffee and food and were starting to feel a bit more human, I got their attention. “I think it’s about time we let that slut in the basement have an orgasm.” Maggie scowled a bit at the word ‘slut’, but since I said it with a smile, she didn’t challenge me.
“Tonight, we’re going to have an orgy. I’ll order some Chinese” - there is a Chinese takeout in every small town in the world, and ours was no exception - “and we’ll bring Heather up to the living room and all gang up on her until we wring all the orgasms out of her that we can!”
“I thought Heather couldn’t be let out of the wine cellar?” Mal asked.
“My rules, I can amend them. She still can’t leave without my permission and when we bring her upstairs, she’s going to be completely restrained. The slut will be In chains and helpless.” As I called Heather a slut again, I could see Maggie about to object.
“Maggie,” I cut her off, “I know you don’t like my calling Heather a slut, but I don’t consider it derogatory. Heather IS a bondage slut, it describes her. She gets off on unescapable, restrictive, helpless bondage. And if you will keep an open mind, I’m going to prove it to all of you tonight. I’m not going to harm the slut, I promise, and everyone is going to have fun, especially the slut.”
“I’m going to have to run into town,” I continued. “The slut is handcuffed right now; the key is back on the nail downstairs since her handcuffing wasn’t a punishment. Someone can go down anytime between now and lunch and unlock her. Then she will need lunch. After lunch I want at least two of the guys to go down and bathe her. I want you to handcuff her to the bars then use a bucket and cold water to wash her hair and then clean her entire body. DO NOT make her cum. And you might want to save your sexual energy for later tonight as well.”
“After the guys get her clean and she’s had time to dry, Maggie and Reese, I’d like you to go down and do her hair and makeup. Does anyone know if she has any makeup in her bag?”
“Yea, she has some lipstick at least,” Maggie said.
“And I have some eyeliner and other stuff if she doesn’t,” Reese added.
“OK,” I continued, “Try to make her look like she’s going on a hot date. Then you can leave her on her own in the cellar until dinner. But give her strict instructions NOT to mess up her hair or makeup.”
On my run into town, I went by the shop where I had bought the handcuffs to buy a pair of leg irons I had seen in the same case. I suspected the owner of what was basically a novelty and gift shop might have more inventory than she let on. There are people interested in BDSM the world over and this corner of Croatia was no exception. When I asked her if these were the only restraints she had. At first, she didn’t understand the English word ‘restraints.’ But when I made a “collar” around my neck with my hands she smiled. Madam Cosecu, I came to learn, had a locked room at the back of the store full of all kinds of fun toys. She also had several local artisans, a carpenter, a leather worker, and a blacksmith, who could make almost anything.
The other interesting thing in her back room was a knockoff Hitachi style vibrator. I recognized it immediately because my company made it. The little company I ran remotely designed, contract-manufactured, and sold electronic sex toys on the internet. I have a degree in electrical engineering with a focus on computers. For a number of years after graduation I worked for a large Texas personal computer manufacturer. My then wife and I built an impressive collection of vibrators, sex machines, TENS units, time locks and other electrical sex toys in our (mostly her) quest to find more and more stimulation.
Over time, her frustration with these purchases led to my trying my hand at design. And eventually I found various Chinese manufacturers who could execute my designs cheaply. I built a web site and before long I couldn’t handle the volume of shipping out of my home. I quit my job, found a fulfillment company to take over shipping and focused on expanding into other distribution channels. Thankfully, I caught the wife cheating and divorced her before she could take half the company. We were tired of each other by then anyway. She didn’t want to help with the company, and I didn’t want her to spend all my profits on clothes and shoes. Plus, she had NO interest in BDSM, and my interests were growing steadily.
The company was easy to run remotely, and I had set up distribution in Australia, Asia, and Europe. But I didn’t know I had product in Croatia. I suspect Madam Cosecu had bought the vibrator, and perhaps most of her inventory, at full retail on the web. I would have to talk to her about that another time.
I bought leg irons and a set of prisoner transport chains to connect them and a belly chain from Madam Cosecu. I also bought some very nice locking leather ankle and wrist cuffs, sized for women, with steel bands inside the leather. A matching 2-inch collar completed the set. Madam tried to sell me padlocks but I knew I could get better quality keyed-alike padlocks at the local lumber and hardware store. I did buy ¼ inch rope from her because it was already cut into convenient lengths and the ends wrapped. I also bought a half dozen 2-inch leather straps with buckles in several lengths. And of course, I bought the knockoff Hitachi, even though I basically made it.
I would have loved to talk with Madam longer. She was obviously a dominant older woman. I could almost picture her working as an interrogator for the KGB back in the Soviet era. I suspect I could learn a lot about the local BDSM community. But the language barrier was just too hard and so, with a smile, I headed on to the home improvement store for some locks, a package of four nylon cargo straps, and a gas grill. I also went by the grocery store for some nice steaks, salad greens and some corn. To this I added a couple of those spray cans of fake whipped cream, a jar of cherries and some chocolate syrup. Oh, and I got a package of clothespins, those are always handy.
When I got back to the chateau, everyone was excited about the prospect of a steak dinner and Carl and Tim set about unloading and assembling the propane grill. He said Mal and Cradic were still in the basement washing Heather. He mused that they had been down there a while. After unloading the groceries and bondage toys I had purchased I fired up my tablet to check the video footage from the wine cellar.
I rewound the stream until Mal and Cradic first entered the cellar. They were both wearing just shorts and Mal was carrying a bucket with a big sponge, Cradic was carrying the dish soap from the kitchen and the handcuffs. As they approached the gate I could hear through the camera’s microphone.
Mal: “Hea Heather, we’re here to give you a bath before your big night tonight!”
Cradic: “Are you alright? You want a bath?”
Mal: “Well, you’re getting one, silent treatment or not.”
Cradic: “Yea, don’t be a bitch Heather, we could just let you smell, and is that cum all over your face? God you really are a slut aren’t you, Heather.”
I took note that Heather was being a good girl. Not once, through this exchange, had she said a word or acknowledged Mal and Cradic with a nod. In fact, she was hardly looking at them. And it was starting to piss them off, as I expected.
Cradic: “Come here and face the bars. That’s it, put your tits right up against the metal. Now raise your arms.”
Heather complied, still not looking at him or talking. He cuffed her hands through the bars well above her head.
Cradic went to put the handcuff keys back on the nail while Mal unlocked the gate and went to the sink to fill the bucket. I was pleased to see they were sticking to protocol about the keys.
When Cradic got back, he and Mal looked at each other, then Mal poured the entire bucket of cold water over Heather’s head. She squealed.
Mal: “Bet that’s cold slut!”
Cradic made a bad joke: “Hea look, the slut’s wet!”
Mal: “I think she’s always wet.”
“Yep,” I thought, “my strategy is succeeding. They aren’t thinking of Heather as a friend but as an object.” And both of the men were sprouting significant erections under their shorts. I imagined that not just fucking Heather right now was taking all their resolve.
Craic drizzled dish soap in Heather’s hair and started rubbing it in, making suds. Heather tilted her head back and what little I could see of her face from this angle it looked like she was enjoying the attention despite the cold water. But Mal was already refilling the bucket with the only water available at the sink – cold. And the water came underground from a spring. In spite of the Mediterranean climate, it was cold. Heather sucked in a lung full of air as the rinse water poured over her head, then she shivered violently for a few minutes.
Now it was Mal’s turn, He poured a generous amount of soap on the sponge and squished it in. He then started with Heather’s hands, working down her arms. When he got to her head he grabbed her hair, none too gently, and yanked back, forcing her to look up, then washed her face. He was not particularly careful to keep the suds out of her eyes, nose, or mouth as she tried to breathe.
Mal reached around her body with both hands and pulled her away from the bars, hurting her wrists in the process. But then he ran the sponge, sensuously up and down her chest and tummy, taking way longer than he needed to soap the breasts. His bare chest was pressed against Heather’s wet back, and he made a point of rubbing around a bit. I’m quite sure that Heather could feel his erection pressing against her ass. Even though the video camera was some feet away I could see Heather’s breathing quickened. Although Mal was no longer pulling her hair back, Heather kept her head back and her mouth was open.
Cradic: “Hea, my turn with the slut, I want to do the bottom half.”
Cradic started at her ankles and moved up very slowly, stroking her thighs with the soapy sponge like a lover, approaching closer and closer to her cunt. But he didn’t touch her folds yet, he washed her legs, then her ass before wrapping his arms around her body and running the sponge between her legs. Heather humped the sponge with a desperation that made both men laugh. She didn’t care, she kept thrusting her ass back and forth trying to get as much stimulation from the soapy sponge as possible.
Mal: “Here, let me open her legs for you” and he grabbed her ankle and pulled her leg way up and to the side, leaving Heather standing on one tiptoe.
Cradic: “Yea, that helps.” As he proceeded to wash her labia, pushing part of the soapy sponge into her vagina. “Gotta get this extra clean!” and they both laughed.
Through all of this, Heather hadn’t uttered a word, but she was openly moaning now. Mal and Cradic were both irritated by her silence and that just made them tease her more.
Mal: “Damn, I know we’re saving it for tonight, but I could sure fuck this bitch right now,” as he pulled her leg even higher.
Cradic: “Yea, nothing like a nice clean snatch and asshole,” as he dropped the sponge and fingered Heather in both her holes.
Heather was moving like a stripper trying to fuck her pole, except in this case the pole was Cradic’s hand. They guys were already talking like Heather wasn’t right there in front of them, listening to every degrading comment. It was like she didn’t matter to them anymore except as a sex object. I imagine it took every bit of sanity Heather had left to stay silent, to not beg the guys to fuck her.
Her sexual high didn’t last long, however. As soon as they guys started a final rinse, by dumping buckets of cold water over her head and body, Heather lost all thoughts of sex and just started shivering.
Mal: “Speaking of asshole, did Heath say anything about an enema?”
That snapped Heather back to reality, she had never had an enema. She also had never had butt sex. The thought hadn’t occurred to her until just now. How did she feel about the possibility? It was simple, it wasn’t her decision, the others would decide.
Cradic: “Probably a good idea, but I don’t think we have any tubing or enema kits?”
Mal: “Damn, we’ll have to ask about that.”
Heather shuddered, but she also got even wetter, if that was possible.
Mal: “Did we bring a towel?”
Cradic: “Naw, she can air dry. The girls can let her down later.”
And they picked up their tools, locked the gate and headed upstairs.
Mal: “Ungrateful bitch, you’d think after three days she would appreciate being cleaned up.”
I watched Heather on the security cam video for a while after they left. She just stood there against the bars. Every once in a while, she would flip her hair to keep it out of her face as it dried. I fast forwarded till Maggie and Reese came down. I noticed that Maggie had thought of bringing one of the kitchen chairs and Reese was carrying a plastic grocery bag full of stuff.
Reese: “You dry yet, Heather?”
Maggie: “You okay, Heather?”
Again, Heather followed my instructions and neither responded nor nodded. She did look at Maggie, hoping Maggie could read her eyes.”
Maggie: “Look girlfriend, we came down to make you look pretty for your big night. So do you want your hair combed out or not?”
Heather’s hair hadn’t been combed in days and it was bugging her to no end. But she just stared at Maggie, not saying a word.
Reese: “I don’t know what’s gotten into her, but I can take this stuff right back upstairs!”
Maggie: “Our landlord asked us to make her look nice for her big fuck fest tonight and that’s what we need to do, even if she’s being a bitch. Get the handcuff keys.”
Maggie and Reese got on either side of Heather, unlocked the cuffs from one wrist and, even though she showed no signs of resisting, they each grabbed an arm and manhandled her into the chair. Reese then cuffed Heather behind the chair rest, running the cuffs through one of the metal rungs in the seatback. Heather wasn’t particularly secure, she could have stood up, pulling the chair with her, and run or even swung the chair at her captors, but none of that ever occurred to Heather. She had descended into full prisoner mode several days ago.
Maggie started to comb Heather’s hair while Reese dug through the bag of stuff they had brought. The guys hadn’t done anything with Heather’s hair since washing it and it had dried with lots of tangles. Nobody had any conditioner, so Heather was just yanking the brush through. And from the grimaces on Heather’s face, she wasn’t being particularly gentile about it. Heather stayed silent.
Reese: “Who’s red lipstick is this? I’ve never even seen Heather wear lipstick.”
Maggie: “Oh, Paula volunteered that, she has more makeup than any of us, most of that stuff is hers.”
Reese, smearing a little lipstick on the back of her hand: “Wow this is bright red.”
Maggie: “Good, make her look like the whore that she is.”
I could see Heather slouch further down in her chair at that comment from her friend.
Reese: “I brought some scrunchies, Let’s put her hair in a ponytail. Guys love to grab ponytails when they face fuck a whore.”
Maggie: “Yea, It works when she is licking our clit too,” Maggie laughed. “And put some of that red lipstick on her areola, and some rouge under her tits.”
One last thing, Reese said, reaching into the grocery bag and coming out with a razor and shaving cream.
Maggie: “Where did you get that?”
Reese: “The razor is mine; I borrowed the shaving cream from Carl.”
Maggie: “So, where are we going to shave?”
Reese: “My idea is to just shave around her clit, labia, and asshole. European whores don’t shave their legs or their underarms and she’s already getting quite a forest on those legs.”
Reese was right, Heather probably hadn’t shaved for several days before she was locked up, and now her legs were getting visibly hairy. But I thought it was interesting that the girls wouldn’t go for the usual ‘porn’ look of a completely bald snatch.
Maggie pulled Heather’s legs apart and Reese kneeled between her legs, pulled her ass to the front of the chair, and started lathering her up. Heather must have felt like a complete object, unable to talk to her friends, being shaved in the most intimate spot, being talked about like a whore.
Reese did trim Heather’s bush a bit, giving it a nice triangular shape but making sure there were no hairs below a certain point. Maggie hit Heather’s crotch with a couple of buckets of cold water from the sink to rinse the shaving cream off.
By the time Reese and Maggie finished with Heather she looked completely the part of a whore, ready to go walk the streets picking up Johns. With a stern warning not to mess up her hair or makeup, which Heather did not acknowledge, the girls uncuffed Heather from the chair and headed back upstairs.