Chapter 9 – Slut Walk
I could tell Maggie wanted to walk out there and help Heather on her ‘Slut walk’. She still thought of Heather as her friend.
“Maggie, if you want to coach her,” I suggested, “then make her start just walking, again and again, until her legs learn the right distance step. Then she can go a little faster and increase the speed more each trip. But DON’T time her. She has to guess when she’s fast enough and ask me to time her. There is a penalty if she thinks she can do it and then fails.”
“You might break a switch off that bush over there to tap her legs if she loses focus," Tim suggested.
“Hea,” Paula asked, “can I borrow that vibrator later, that looks intense!”
“I’ll give you your very own,” I replied, “as long as you promise me that you won’t use it more than once a week or when I’m watching.”
“Ohh, you want to be cuckolded by a piece of silicone, do you?” She kidded.
“That’s what I’m afraid of! Our reviewers say that thing is better than their boyfriends and I would still like to fuck that cunt of yours from time to time.” I smiled.
“Speaking of which, I’ve got some stuff in the Land Rover, want to help me please?” I asked.
I brought in a whole set of toys and made a display of them on an old side table in the living room where most of the group had their sleeping spots. I was building a sort of ‘loaner library’. The collection included various vibes including nipple vibrators, dildoes, strap-on harnesses, butt plugs, cupping equipment, some suction cups and pumps for breasts and cunt, and more. The collection also included bondage equipment like cuffs, spreader bars, an aluminum fiddle and an aluminum stock, a leather hood like the one we had used on Heather and a less intimidating elastic one. I didn’t bring some of the more sophisticated electronic toys that my company is known for, those required pairing with a phone and some training.
“I guess I should get a pump container of disinfectant and a paper towel and leave it out here, to remind people to clean the toys before they return then,” I said.
“This is impressive,” Paula said, “your company makes all this?”
“Well, we make some of it, source the rest from kinky manufacturers in Taiwan and Korea,” I answered.
“I’m not sure the bondage stuff will get used," Paula observed.
“Well see, we might get some experimentation.” I smiled.
“I’m going to the store tomorrow, I’ll get some disinfectant wipes, they are easier to use,” she said. “Now, I believe you said something about using a certain cunt from time to time?” she smiled seductively.
I pulled her dress up above her waist, then picked Paula up by her waist and lifted her onto the dining room table.
“Oh great,” she said in mock outrage, “now I’m going to have to disinfect the table before dinner.”
I grabbed a vibrating cock ring from the stash of toys I had brought and slipped it on. Then I held out my hand knowing Paula always had a condom on her.
“I’m close enough to my period, we don’t need that, besides, I want to see what the unsheathed you feels like inside me.” She replied.
She found out.
I pumped until I knew I was going to cum then pushed in, trapping the vibrating ring against her clit. In just a moment I felt her vaginal walls pulsing. It wasn’t quite a simultaneous orgasm, but it was close.
I started pumping in and out of her until my penis deflated too much to keep it in. Then I just pushed our bodies together and ground the vibrator against her clit again while I mauled her breasts.
“I’ve never fucked with a cock ring vibrator before, where have those been all my adult life?” She asked breathlessly following her second orgasm.
“Great huh, they feel great on me too,” I answered.
After we relaxed for a moment and cleaned up, we went outside to check on Heather.
Maggie had found a switch and was walking along beside Heather watching her feet closely. Heather stumbled and Maggie hit her calf with the switch. It was obvious that the slut was having a hard time. The ankle chains were short, she wasn’t wearing shoes and, although the ground between the trees was mostly bare, with some grass and weeds, there was the occasional stick or rock that the slut couldn’t avoid. Over time, the soles of her bare feet would get tougher, but right now she was struggling and stumbling a lot.
“You are the most uncoordinated person I’ve ever met. Didn’t you ever learn to walk in heels, it’s the same principle, short, controlled steps,” Maggie berated.
From the number of red stripes on her legs, Maggie had used the switch a lot.
Tim was sitting with his back up against a tree, watching the show. He had unzipped and was slowly stroking his cock.
“Enjoying the show, Tim?” Paula asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Hell yea!” Tim answered. “At first Maggie was all super encouraging and helpful, but when Heather just kept stumbling and getting it wrong, she started tapping her legs, then she started really laying into her. It’s like a girl-on-girl cat fight, it’s hot as hell.”
Maggie and Heather headed back towards the end of the cable where Tim was sitting, and we were standing. Maggie had been so frustrated with Heather that she hadn’t noticed what Tim was doing while sitting there. She must have heard his ‘cat fight’ comment because she stopped, then really looked at the red stripes on Heather’s legs. She threw the switch on the ground and stormed off towards the house, Paula trailing behind her.
“You need a break, slut, and it seems that you have caused Tim some frustration over there.” I unlocked the chain from the pulley and led her over to Tim. “Tim, would you like this slut to suck you off?” I asked.
“Why, yes sir, I think I would," Tim said in his best British accent.
“When you’re finished with her mouth, lock the chain back on her – but no more whipping,” I told him.
“And slut, do you think you’re fast enough yet?” I asked Heather.
“I don’t know sir. I couldn’t count with Heather yelling at me and whipping me.” She replied.
“OK, then I’ll check back in another hour or so. Keep practicing.”
When I got into the kitchen, I expected Paula to be lecturing Maggie but instead she was comforting her.
Maggie was saying, “I don’t know what got into me, I’ve never whipped anyone in my entire life!”
“Maggie, it’s not good for a dom to get so involved in a scene that they aren’t aware of what they are doing to the sub. Don’t ever take your emotions or your frustrations out on a sub again,” I said.
Maggie looked up in shock, “I’m NOT a dominant! I don’t know what came over me.”
Paula looked her right in the eye, “Maggie, tell me that you didn’t get a thrill from the power and control you had over that slut, and yes, she’s a slut, she’s out there marching back and forth in irons, letting you whip her legs without, I’ll bet, a single complaint. And why? So, she can earn the use of a vibrator to get off. Quit fighting it Maggie, enjoy it, just control it.”
Maggie sat there mute. “Look,” I said, “If you went back out there right now and begged for Heather’s forgiveness, how would that make her feel?” Maggie stayed quiet. “And if you went out there, unchained her hands, handed her the switch and demanded she even the score; that she whip your legs, what would she say or do?”
“I know,” Paula said, “She would react in horror at the very idea, then she would collapse on the ground and cry. She would cry, not because her legs hurt, but because she felt abandoned and adrift in her world. It’s how submissives think.”
“We need to talk about this some more, perhaps tonight at dinner, but for now you need to get back on the horse.” I told Maggie. “Go back out there and run Tim off, he’s gotten his rocks off, now make him leave you two alone. Don’t apologize to the slut, don’t say anything, just genuinely help her and coach her, the way Tim said you started. And I want you to pick the switch back up and carry it. But ONLY use the switch if you really think she deserves it. Let her rest when she wants to (and I handed Maggie the keys to the chain). And encourage her to count or whatever she was doing to figure out her timing. And take the slut some water. Dominate her because you want to help her, not because she’s an uncoordinated bitch who’s not trying hard enough. And again, DO NOT APOLOGIZE for anything – it will only confuse her.”
I went to the Land Rover to organize the remainder of my stock while I waited for Heather to practice. I didn’t think it would be much longer because she was obviously getting tired. While I was out there the phone rang. It was Lucija.
“I would like to take the job as your translator as long as I can work after school, say from 3 to dinner time and most Saturday’s. I can’t work Sunday morning; Father would kill me,” she said.
“That sounds great! But speaking of your Father, I won’t hire you unless he approves,” I replied.
There was a long silence then Lucija said, “My Father is a very, shall we say, conservative man? I’d rather not ask him. And I’ll be 18 this week, so I don’t need his approval.”
“But I need his approval. You’ll just need to trust that I can talk to him. Let me know when I can come over,” I said firmly.
Lucija sounded pissed that I was treating her like a child. I was afraid that I wouldn’t hear from her again.
About four PM I went back out to find Heather and Maggie sitting on the ground talking. As soon as she saw me coming across the back yard, Heather jumped into the Nadu position, then visibly winced from pain and she put her weight on her whipped shins. Maggie started to say something to her then just shut her mouth.
I took the vibrator down out of the tree and held it in front of her. “So, what’s the verdict slut, ready to try a timed run?”
“No sir, I’m sorry I failed sir,” and she tilted her head towards Maggie, “Ma'am has been really helpful, but I need more practice.” Through this whole speech, she never took her eyes off the vibrator.
“What do you think, Maggie?” I asked.
I’m betting that Maggie wanted to tell me I should just let Heather have the vibrator, to cut her some slack, that she deserved to cum. It looked almost painful as Maggie just said, “she’s not ready.”
I handed Maggie the rest of the keys to Heather’s chains and suggested she take Heather home. The whole group had started calling the wine cellar “The Sluts Home” after the orgy.
As everyone gathered for dinner, they were all checking out the table of samples I laid out. There were a few questions as individuals came across something they had never seen before. Reese actually asked why anyone would want a vibrating scrunchy for their hair. When the function of a vibrating cock ring was explained, she actually blushed. I doubt it was because she was embarrassed about a sex toy, but embarrassed because she didn’t already know what it was.
After dinner I took the floor.
“I wanted to discuss a few things. As you know, I own a company that manufactures and sells all that stuff on the table, and some other products I may bring over later. Think of that table as a ‘lending library.’ Feel free to borrow anything there. Just clean it and put it back after you’re done. If you want one for yourself, just ask me and I’ll get it for you wholesale.” That got a laugh. “Paula is going to get some disinfectant wipes to keep on the table.”
“The other thing I want to talk about is the responsibilities of a dominant,” I said, and the room went quiet. “Simply because we are all, as a group, keeping a woman in a cage in the cellar, we are dominants. Heather has given us, and we have taken, responsibility for her. You’ve all been very good about keeping the, what did you call it Paula, Dominant in Charge or DIC.” I laughed. “Paula has organized the clipboard so that, like we have rotating duties to fix dinner, clean dishes, etc., there is also someone “on duty” each day to make sure Heather is fed, her toilet is emptied etc. Those duties are going to expand as we schedule exercise periods outside.”
“And you have all been very good at making sure someone is here at the chateau at all times. I know we’ve all developed these things called “lives” much to our surprise. Reese is doing art restorations, Paula teaching English, Mal working construction, Carl starting to code again, Tim and Cradic doing odd jobs. But we always need to make sure someone is here, always. If you’re the DIC and you have to leave, it’s your responsibility to get a substitute. Heather is literally trusting us with her life. That’s not an exaggeration, it’s a fact. Imagine being locked in an iron barred wine cellar, naked, in the dark and suddenly smelling smoke, or realizing a violent storm had come up, or hearing unknown intruders in the cellar.” I left that thought hanging for a minute.
“But” I continued, “being a dominant is also like a coin, it has two sides. First, you are responsible for understanding and fulfilling the submissive's fantasy, her kink, her needs. And needs, especially in our slut’s case, is not too strong a word. Second, you are collectively responsible for protecting our slut, both not just from emergencies that might come up, but from herself and your own behavior and the behavior of others here.” And at this point I looked directly at Maggie and Tim.
“Maggie,” I asked, “you’ve been struggling to understand Heather’s needs the last few days and you spent more time talking with her this afternoon, can you explain to the group what YOU think Heather wants and needs?”
This was a calculated risk on my part, I wasn’t at all sure Maggie was ready to articulate this, but I decided to give it a go.
Maggie thought for several seconds while everyone looked at her. Just when I thought she was going to decline, or give some lame half answer she said, “I’ve been feeling a range of emotions over the last week. I guess I’m overprotective of Heather because I sheltered her for several weeks when she needed help. I’ve been angry at her for subjecting herself to this treatment, I’ve been mad at Heath and some of you for the way you treated her, I’ve been confused at why she seems to need to be treated like a sex slave, and I’ve been mad at myself when I got caught up in treating her that way myself.”
Maggie took another long pause.
“But I had a long talk with her today. I understand a little more that Heather is a bondage slut. She needs to be locked up, controlled, given no choice in life or in her hour-to-hour day. Being treated as an object, locked up and used, turns her on in ways I can’t understand. Her cunt drips all day, and I can envy her for that much. And now that we have given her a chance to live an existence she has fantasized and dreamed about, she is, as she says, ‘Home.’ To deny her that domination, to ask her to make decisions, to give her freedom, to NOT insist that she obey and behave – that confuses her, it scares her, it panics her. In short, she needs us to control her physically and sexually. She needs it,” Maggie finished quietly.
“Wow.” Was all I could say. Then I asked, “Maggie, have you come to peace with this? Do you want to share with the group what you did this afternoon?”
Maggie looked at the floor and spoke quietly. “Heath asked me to coach Heather in walking in her chains. He told her if she could walk the length of the chain in a certain time.”
“50 seconds,” I interrupted.
“Yea, 50 seconds,” Maggie continued, “then she could use this massive dildo vibrator to get off. I started trying to help her walk in her leg irons, but she just kept stumbling and I got mad. I guess I got mad at her for being so clumsy, I got mad at me for keeping her in chains, I just got MAD and I started switching her legs. I guess I hurt her pretty bad until Heath came out and stopped me.”
“And Tim, you were there, and you just sat there, why?” I omitted the part about Tim jerking off.
“I don’t know, Tim said, it was kinda hot, I guess. I was enjoying it on some level.”
“Yea,” I smiled, “about the level of your penis.”
“And that brings us to my second point,” I continued. “If Heather wants to give us control of her body, we have to be responsible in accepting that control. Just like parents who have to care for an infant because they are helpless, we have to care for Heather because she is helpless. Maggie, you didn’t really hurt Heather today, you didn’t break the skin and the red marks are already gone. The problem isn’t what you did, but why you did it. If we discipline Heather, we can’t be angry or upset; discipline must be thought out and controlled.”
“Tim,” I said, “when you realized Maggie was out of control, you should have quietly stepped in, pulled her aside and talked her down. Even an observer is responsible for the health and safety of our captive.” Tim nodded.
“When I designed the cable system I attached the chain to the slut’s waist, not her neck. We tied her by the neck before the orgy, but if she had passed out there, we were always close by and would have had time to get her down before she hung herself. If I had chained her by the neck, in leg cuffs, she could have tripped and snapped her neck before anyone could help her. See the difference? You have to always think about Heather’s health and safety, even when you’re restraining or tormenting her.”
“Likewise, when, at the end of the orgy Maggie saw blood, we stopped everything immediately and checked it out. It turned out it was a small tear, but it was time to stop,” I reminded them.
“If you are ever in doubt if something you’re planning or doing is unsafe, ask around, especially Paula or I as we have more experience in BDSM than you guys.”
“And all of this explains why I have instituted the outdoor exercise time, to get her some sunlight and exercise. We also need to do something about her mind, I don’t want her to go insane or become like those zoo animals that just pace all day. I was thinking we let her earn points with which she can buy time on an iPad. She can read books, watch videos, or surf the net. I’m open to ideas but for example, if each ten points buys an hour of time, then perhaps, we rate her oral sex. The recipient can give her from 1 to 10 points depending on quality and effort.” I could see the group was thinking about the possibilities of that.
Carl had an idea, “I think I could write a simple app that would track her points and let her unlock her iPad when she has enough points. We would all be able to post points from our phones.”
“Hmmm,” I said, “I like that idea. Could you also include a demerit counter? Anyone can give her demerits for forgetting to say ‘sir’ or ‘mam’, for being slow, for looking up, for not cleaning her cell well enough. Then we can hold a ‘trial’ every Friday after dinner and decide, as a group, what punishments she must endure to redeem her demerits.”
“Do demerits cancel points?” Reese asked. It was interesting how the group effortlessly slipped into designing a reward/punishment system.
“No, that would be counterproductive. Remember we WANT her to earn screen time, to keep her sane. And we want to encourage good behavior with discipline.” I explained.
“Good point,” Reese agreed.
“And don’t always just automatically give her 10 points. In fact, ladies, I’d rarely give her more than 8 unless she just really rocks your world. And guys, she really needs to work on her deep throat skills, I don’t know about you but she gags badly on the last 2 inches of my cock and only takes it all when I force her. And then I’m afraid she’s going to puke, and I’m just not into that. So only give her high points if she really challenges herself.”
“So, what other things could she do to gain points other than giving oral sex?” I challenged the group.
“I worked one summer in a workout place,” Reese volunteered, “I could design some upper and lower body workouts for her?”
“Great idea!” I said, “Could you use some of your art supplies to make a poster and assign points for every repetition she adds or whatever you think is reasonable? She can work out on her own then ask you to test her when she thinks she can add reps and you can award points on your app as you think appropriate.”
“Can we get some free weights?” Reese asked.
“Sure, see if you can find what you want in town and I’ll pay for them,” I answered, “Any other ideas?”
“Any other ideas?” I asked.
“How about if she endures various torments, like an hour kneeling on the beans is worth 25 points?” Maggie asked. I must admit, Maggie kept surprising me. I was hoping to introduce torments for points, but I certainly didn’t expect Maggie to be the one to suggest it.
“The beans have been introduced as a specific punishment for a specific infraction, not getting into position in time. I’d rather not mix punishments and points. But I’m sure we can come up with other torments.
“She really hates taking it in the ass,” Tim commented, and he would know! “We could give points for that?”
Well, I hate to keep shooting down ideas, but the slut’s ass and cunt are ours to take as we wish already. Why would we give her points for something we already have a right to take any time we want,” I responded.
“But you suggested giving her points for oral?” Tim argued.
“But there is a difference, I suggested, “When she gets fucked, she just bends over or lays down and takes it. There is no skill or effort on her part. Oral takes skill, effort, endurance.”
“Yea, I get that," Tim conceded.
“What else?” I asked.
“What if she volunteered to wear her full chains in the cell for 24 hours, it would have to be a day she isn’t scheduled for outside of course,” Paula suggested.
“And for add on points she could go without food.” Mal suggested.
“And for more points she could be chained to the bars standing up, all day and night,” Cradic suggested.
“She hates that hood; we could blind and gag her for even more points per day,” Reese said.
“OK, now we’re rolling. Would someone volunteer to get some supplies from Reese and make a poster we can put where the slut can see it. Leave lots of room for new ideas. And assign points as you think appropriate, but remember, we want her to really have to work for that iPad time. Don’t make it easy on her.
“I’ll make the poster,” Reese volunteered, “I’m already making the workout poster, and I am the art expert,” she smiled.
“Good, then Maggie, when the poster is done, why don’t you and Reese talk to Heather, explain what we designed and get her to suggest torments she would endure to earn points. That should be interesting. If you and Reese agree her ideas are good, add them to the poster. But don’t let her suggest sex acts or anything too easy, be tough negotiators.” I smiled.
The next few days the chateau settled into a routine. Paula had a list of who was Dominant in Charge each day. Heather was fed. Heather was given a bar of soap and hosed off once a week. The group got out of the hated task of emptying the toilet by making Heather carry it upstairs and dump it on the way to her exercise cable three times a week. Other than those activities and once or twice a day visits from someone to get sucked, licked or fucked off, Heather spent her days and nights alone, sometimes in the dark. At least she could fill her time now following her workout routines or asking for torments to earn points for iPad time.
The next time I was by the chateau for lunch Maggie let me know that Heather thought she could do the slut walk in 50 seconds. I went out and timed her as a proud Maggie looked on. Sure enough, 48 seconds. But when she finished, I looked at my iPhone timer for a long time after she finished without saying anything. I think Maggie was getting more distressed than Heather. Finally, I announced, “48 seconds,” and smiled.
Maggie clapped like a proud coach.
“Unhook her Maggie and let's all go in for Lunch, Heather can eat on the floor of the kitchen this one time. We were the last to arrive for lunch. Mal had been on lunch duty, yes, the guys cooked. He had bought some lamb gyro meat and made rollups with various sliced raw peppers, carrots, etc. We put a selection in a bowl on the floor for Heather who was still chained up. Tim went and moved the bowl so Heather had to kneel with her ass facing the table to eat, so Tim could enjoy the view.
After everyone had finished lunch, I announced.
“So, the slut successfully finished her walk challenge in 48 seconds,” I paused for a round of sincere congratulations from the group.
“Next time, Slut, I want 45 seconds to earn the use of the vibrator, but now, here’s the Penis Rabbit,” I said, handing the massive device to Heather. Turn your cunt towards us, spread your knees and get busy. Your time was good enough for ONE orgasm, be sure to announce it to the group when you’re coming.
“Now sir?” Heather asked, turning red.
“Slut, you were gang banged for hours in front of everyone here, why are you suddenly shy? But if you don’t want to entertain us now, I understand,” I said sympathetically, “it’s alright. You can forfeit your orgasm.”
“OH, No, I’m fine, I’ll do it, I’d like to do it, sir,” Heather stammered.
And I heard the deep vibrations of the Penis Rabbit start as she quickly turned It on.
Heather started working the silicon penis in and out of her cunt a little more each stroke. We hadn’t allowed her anything in that hole for several days and she had to stretch the hole and get her juices to coat the dildo. Once she got the full length in and the end hit her cervix and g-spot, the rabbit part of the vibe also hit her clit. Heather threw her head back and started working the shaft in and out vigorously. Her handcuffs were still attached to her belly chain in front, so her chains rattled as she flexed her wrists to pump the vibrator in and out. You could tell from the way she would pause from time to time, that she was conflicted between pounding her vagina and holding the rabbit on her clit.
Tim was his usual misogynistic self, “Oh, yea, pound that pussy meat you whore.”
But everybody joined in the humiliation in some way or another. Even Maggie could be heard saying, “Cum Cunt! If you don’t enjoy this after how hard you worked, I’ll shove that thing in there myself. Now cum whore.”
Only Paula and I sat there quietly enjoying the show.
It didn’t take long, In addition to not having cum since the orgy, the humiliation drove Heather over the edge. She raised her ass off the floor in an arch, not an easy task given her chains, shoved the Penis Rabbit all the way to the fake balls and moaned a deep guttural moan. Then she collapsed. Maggie reached down and pulled the vibe out of her cunt.
When we helped Maggie get up, Paula looked at the puddle on the floor under her ass and pointed. “I’m not cleaning that up! Slut, get down there and lick your pussy juices off that floor before someone slips and hurts themselves.
Heather looked at the puddle, which was significant, and dropped to her knees. She looked up at Paula, who was smiling at her but pointing at the puddle. The message was clear, ‘nice job jacking off slut, but you’re still cleaning it up with your tongue.”
Carl, who was DIC for the day, helped Heater back downstairs after she spent a good five minutes licking the floor clean. The only saving grace for her was that Paula kept the kitchen very clean, so she wasn’t licking mud or grime off the floor, just her own pussy juices.
I was impressed, when we got downstairs, with how many torments had been added to the points poster.
“So, are you getting to use your iPad much, what are you doing on it slut?” I asked.
“I’ve only earned a few hours this week, but it’s very nice, thank you sir. That’s why I keep suggesting things I could do to earn more points!” Heather pointed out.
“What have you been doing on it?” I was genuinely curious how Heather would spend precious online time.
“I’ve watched a few YouTube videos on sewing, I love to sew sir. I’ve also found a free erotic stories site that has a huge BDSM section. some of the stories are amateurish but I’ve found a few authors that really turn me on, Sir.”
I filed the sewing information away for later. “What kind of stories turn you on the most, slut?”
“I really like stories of women who are locked away, tortured, and sexually used, sir. The last one was about a Chinese spy who was tortured at a secret CIA facility. They hung her from her breast for hours, sir.”
“Did you suggest breast hanging as a way to earn points?” I asked with a smile.
“I’m afraid my little B cups aren’t large enough for that torture, sir,” she answered.
I looked at the board. Some things had obviously been added by members of the group. For example, “Hang from crotch rope for an hour – 25 points” must have been inspired by Maggie’s use of that torture earlier.
I could guess that much of what had been added had been suggested by Heather herself and had probably been inspired by her reading. For example, they had added, “Icy Hot on the pussy – 40 points.” And “Clothespins on nipples per hour – 10 points.”
I assumed the reason these two hadn’t been tried yet was because nobody had been to the store to buy Icy-Hot, (or the local equivalent) or clothes pins.
“Carl,” I said, “remind me to talk with Maggie and Reese about the list when we get back upstairs.”
“Heather,” I said, “Look at me. No, look in my eyes.” She had been trained to NEVER look one of us in the face, so she did so hesitantly, but I wanted to look in her eyes. “I know you’re a bondage slut, or a captivity slut, or whatever we call this," I said waving around the cell. “But Heather, do you enjoy it when we hurt you?”
I couldn’t read her eyes for the minute of silence that followed, then she seemed to decide what she wanted to say. We both realized that what she said next would change the game going forward.
“I don’t enjoy it, sir,” she said slowly as I saw resolve in her eyes, “I need it, just like I need to feel helpless. I think about the things that might be done to me at night, it keeps me up, I fantasize and I, uh, you know, try to masturbate. It’s very frustrating not being able to cum. Then I hate every minute when I’m in pain or discomfort. Then I replay it over and over in my head after it’s over and I can’t keep my fingers off my pussy. I think having to endure the pain reinforces that I’m not in control, that I don’t choose what happens to me. I’m a sick fuck, sir.”
“You’re not sick Heather,” I said, “you’re a pain slut. Would you like me to hurt you, pain slut?”
Heather broke eye contact, looked down and said quietly “Yes sir.”
“LOOK AT ME!” I screamed, causing her to jump and look back at my eyes. “I DIDN’T HEAR YOU SLUT. DO. YOU. WANT. ME. TO. HURT. YOU.”
“Yes,” she said calmly looking right in my eyes, “I want you to hurt me sir!”
“Fucking hell,” Carl mumbled.
“Turn around, bend over and grab your ankles, slut," I said with calm authority.
The sound of my wide, tooled leather belt coming out of the loops of my blue jeans was a classic sound known to pain sluts everywhere. As I doubled it over in my right hand I said, “For each stroke you can take on your ass you will earn a point. But” I added, “if you let go of your ankles, we’re done. Understand.”
“Yes sir,” she said firmly.
Some people tap the impact implement on the target softly a few times, almost making love with the recipient. I swung without warning and came down hard right in the middle of her ass cheeks. Heather had a very trim, nicely shaped ass, but the fat rippled away from the belt as it struck in a very sensual way. A few seconds passed after the sound of the crack then Heather screamed “ahhhh shit!” grabbed her ass with both hands and started a little dance. I heard Carl suck in a breath then laugh.
After about 15 seconds, Heather realized what she had done and quickly grabbed her ankles.
“I’m very disappointed in you,” I said quietly. “I honestly thought a true pain slut could take a dozen at least. You need to learn to take the whip, absorb the pain, control yourself and your body. Stand up, turn around.” I ordered.
Heather resumed rubbing her bottom.
“That’s going to sting for a while and may be sore for days. Let it remind you of your failure. If we try this again in the future, I expect you to do much better. Perhaps,” I said sarcastically, “you’ll manage to take two.”
I gestured to Carl, and we exited the wine cellar, Carl locked the gate while I put my belt back on. Heather was crying, more, I think, from failing than from the pain of her ass.
“Carl, add a point to her total, and you need to load that app on my phone,” I said.
I found Maggie and Reese in the great room looking at one of Reese’s paintings in progress.
“Hea guys, couple of comments on the punishment board. It’s not safe to leave clothes pins on for an hour. First of all they will hurt like hell going on but the pain will fade after a few minutes. Then they will hurt like hell coming off. But not only do they not hurt that much in between, they cut blood flow to the tissue and can actually kill cells,” I explained.
“There’s a game called ‘5 on, 5 off’ that requires someone to stay in the cell with her but is a LOT more fun, and safer. You put a clothespin on her left nipple and right labia. Wait 5 minutes, move the clothes pin from the left to the right nipple and from the right to the left labia. Wait 5 minutes, put them back. You can even include the clit in rotation. Or alternate pins on the labia and just put a pin on/off the clit. The point is, every 5 minutes the pain is refreshed but there’s no damage.”
“Oh, and about the Icy-Hot idea.” I continued. “There is much hotter stuff out there, you might even find some animal liniment at the farm store but be sure to test it first on her arm or some less tender skin. Some people violently react to some irritants. If you don’t get any red, angry reactions on the arm then you can try it on a nipple. It may be very uncomfortable and even painful, but you don’t want blisters. If the nipple tolerates it, then you can try the cunt. But buy some latex gloves and wear them, and be careful not to wipe your face, eyes, etc. till you get the gloves off and wash your hands.”
They listened intently. As I walked off, I could hear Carl whispering, “Shit, he’s worried about how we use clothes pins, and he just left a huge red stripe across Hether with his belt.”
“Really!” I heard Reese exclaim, “I want to see that.”