Dark Erotic Fiction

Around a quarter til four, Allison spoke to the floor supervisor. “I’m supposed to take Elizabeth and get her ready.”
“Oh, yeah, Mr. Johnson is taking her for the evening, and you too. Have fun!”
Allison wasn’t sure it would be fun, but she did enjoy collecting Elizabeth and leading the handcuffed slave to her room. She had the leather hood there. “Sit down and I’ll get you fixed up before I dress.”
“And I don’t dress, I take it.”
“Nope.”
“Can’t you wait until we get where we are going?”
“I’m under orders.” Allison slipped the hood over Elizabeth’s head, tucked in her hair, adjusted the helmet to be straight, and zipped it closed. She slipped a small padlock in the zipper pull and a leather loop on the helmet and locked it onto Elizabeth. “You look good in that.” After that, she busied herself with putting on the nice clothes she had bought. She felt almost human. Just before four, she led Elizabeth, now hooded and still handcuffed, into the office. Joan and Mr. Johnson were there talking. He looked them over and said, “Very nice. I like your outfit, and she looks good in her helmet. Don’t mention her name tonight, at least not until I do. Let’s go. You are in charge of her.”
Allison took Elizabeth’s leash and led her while following Mr. Johnson. He walked out of the bar and towards his car in a nearby lot. Allison strutted along, feeling emboldened by being clothed and leading another slave who was cuffed on a leash. Mr. Johnson noticed the bounce in her step and said, “You are enjoying this, aren’t you?”
She responded with a smile. “Of course. I’m out on an adventure with you, and I’m wearing clothes!”
“Well, that, and you like being in charge of other women, don’t you?”
Allison got a big lump in her throat and considered her words carefully. She didn’t know what would get her in trouble. She decided to fall back on that most basic of strategies, tell the truth. “Yes, sir, I do.”
“Good. The best bar slave leaders are like that. Take a look at Joan sometime if you don’t think that’s true.” He was smiling and seemed to be happy to be in her company. “Tell me, Allison. You were enslaved. You can’t change that. How well do you think you came out in the random process of who ended up owning you?”
“Two years ago, I would have said near the bottom. Now, having been here a while and hearing from some of the slaves you’ve brought in, I know that there a lot worse situations for corporate-owned slaves. I hope I can achieve some of the freedom that Joan has.”
“Allison, the big secret is that it isn’t that hard. Do a good job, achieve well, behave yourself, and it will come to you. We already trust you. I’ll set the records to let you leave the bar at will when you aren’t on duty. Ask Joan for the procedure to get entry into the bar when the doors are locked. Use a condom if you let someone fuck you.”
Allison was stunned. That level of freedom had only been given to trusted red collar slaves, as far as she knew. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’ve worked hard for the bar. I like to reward that. You’ve been slow to take up the possible rewards. That has to stop. I need good minds like yours. You may be a slave, but a respected and trusted slave can still have a good life.”
At the house, he took off Elizabeth’s cuffs and locked a small box onto her collar. “This is a GPS transponder. It won’t blow up or shock you, but it makes finding you a piece of cake for a slave tracker.” He left the leash on and led her to Penelope. “Penelope, this is your assistant for the evening. Have her set the table, serve the food, and summon you if someone asks for something.” Penelope was wearing a nice pantsuit and an apron. She looked Elizabeth over and said, “Yes, Mr. Johnson. I’ll show her the plates and silverware and get her right on it.”
“Good. Allison and I will be in the living room having some wine while we wait for the guests.”
Penelope looked Elizabeth over again. She could tell that the helmet-bound woman’s eyes were wide. “You recognize me, don’t you?” Elizabeth nodded. “Are you a slave?” It was a dumb question, given her nudity and helmet; Elizabeth nodded again. “A recently-converted slave?” Another nod. “I haven’t heard anything about someone I know being recently converted, but it’s been a couple of weeks since I got any news. Were you converted this week?” Yet another nod. “Well, maybe it will come to me and maybe it won’t. I can’t see your hair, and there isn’t much of a hint from the way they shaved you, so that won’t help me. I suppose I could have you write your name, but Mr. Johnson seems to want to make it a guessing game, so I won’t. Come with me and I’ll get you started on setting the table.”

Delia was sitting in Neil’s living room, wearing nothing; she had gotten used to nudity. She watched various TV programs and looked over his collection of books. It would have been nicer if he could have stayed with her, but she was happy to have been with him for a while, and especially happy with the sex. It was nice to be out of the bar. She knew that being allowed to leave while clothed wasn’t something they usually gave to white collars, but she suspected that she wasn’t going to stay a white collar a lot longer. Anyway, her first trip out of the bar had been nude, when she went to her father’s business when he married his two slave wives. She glanced up at the clock; it was five after four. She thought she would get dressed around 4:30 and go back to the bar. Just then, she heard a key in the door, and it opened to reveal a sweaty Neil. “I ran from the office to get here.” He closed the door and went to her; she rose and embraced him. “The presentation went well. I think I have a good future there. But enough of that. I wanted to get back here to try one more time before I escort you back.” She smiled at him and dragged him by his arm into the bedroom. It was difficult, having had sex four times recently, but he was a young man in the full heat of passion, and he managed. After that, they dressed and walked back to the bar, hand-in-hand.

About an hour later, George’s guests Billy and Pamela arrived. They were both about George’s age, mid to late forties, and both were trim and attractive. Both were dressed casually. “Billy, Pamela, I would like you to meet Allison.”
“Hello, Allison,” said Pamela. “How do you know George?”
“I’m a waitress at his bar.” Allison looked ashamed to say it.
Pamela saw Allison’s reaction and said, “That’s OK, dear. After Billy enslaved me, George took me on as a suck slave for a couple of months to get my head adjusted.”
“I thought you were his wife.”
“I am. I am also his slave. Our marriage works out better this way. If I get bitchy on him, he just gags me and swats my butt.”
George passed out glasses of wine for all four of them. “Allison has been my slave for three years but hasn’t tried to take advantage of the privileges available to her as an accomplished performer. I selected her for tonight to help her along. Well, that, and because she is gorgeous, a pleasure to have around, and an enthusiastic partner in bed.”
Allison blushed and drank some of her wine. Billy noticed her embarrassment and said, “Don’t feel embarrassed. This is an informal little group; we get together for fun and we don’t do any silly dominance games. We just have a pleasant dinner and evening, then go about our physical pleasures. Please, relax and forget about being a slave for the rest of the evening.”
George said, “Yes, please do. We have two servants to take care of our needs so we can dine and converse to our hearts’ content.”
Pamela said, “Two servants?”
“Yes. You know Penelope. I brought a new slave from the bar to assist her.”
After another bottle and a half of wine, Penelope announced that dinner was ready and the party moved to the dining table. After they sat, a slave in a tight leather helmet (and nothing else) came out with a tray of roast beef in gravy and walked to each seated diner to offer the main course. She looked at Billy and Pamela hard, but they didn’t notice. After she sat the tray on the sideboard, she brought in two vegetable dishes, then moved around the table refilling wine glasses. Dinner was leisurely. An hour later, after the pie was served, the diners rose and went into the living room to converse.
Penelope and Elizabeth took all the food and dishes from the table, cleaned the table, and retreated to the kitchen. Penelope closed the door. “OK, now we can eat, then clean up.” She produced a key and unlocked the helmet, unzipped it, and lifted it off Elizabeth’s head. When she saw Elizabeth’s face, she was shocked. “Liz! What happened?”
“Dean got sick of me, apparently. I was spending too much money and yelling at him about not having enough, and not fucking him. He sold me off, and George, or I should say, Mr. Johnson, bought me for the bar. They have an older-slave sucking program going on. He also said he didn’t want me eaten.”
“You knew him?”
“Yes, for a long time.”
“I knew you for quite a while, but I never met Mr. Johnson before he bought me.”
“I didn’t know he bought you. I knew you had been enslaved, and I knew you were a housekeeper, but no one ever said where you ended up.”
“My slimy ex-husband knew.”
“He never said anything.”
“Oh, well, here we are, fellow slaves. I was part of an experiment at the bar that got the older-sucker program going. Anyway, let’s eat dinner and catch up.”

After a long evening of pleasant discussion and wine, the men stood up in the living room. George Johnson said, “OK, ladies, it’s time. Allison, go with Billy. He knows what room to use.” Pamela and Allison stood. Pamela took George’s arm and they walked up the stairs. Allison walked over to Billy, who took her hand and led her up the stairs. When they were in a room together, she asked him, “I expected it to be a foursome.”
“We have tried that, but it is better as two couples. Are you nervous?”
“Yes, but I’m also horny. Do you want to get started?”
“Yes. Please take off your clothes.”
“Do you want to help me?” she asked coyly. She unbuttoned her shirt and shrugged it off. “I could use some help with the bra fastening.”
He walked over behind her and unhooked the bra, then swept it forward, away from her chest and down her outstretched arms. She turned and faced him, giving her a great view of her perfect breasts. She reached out and started unbuttoning his shirt. When she pushed it away from his shoulders, he moved his arms to help her, then sighed as she pressed herself against his chest.
“Mmmmmm, feels good,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “And what is that lump I feel against me?”
“Is it something you’d like to get better acquainted with?”
“I think so.”
“Let’s get your pants off, first.”
She grinned at him, and slowly removed her pants, making exaggerated movements to emphasize her legs. When she was done, he was obviously very aroused.
“Pull mine down, too.”
She knelt and unbuckled his trousers, unsnapped them, and lowered the zipper, then slowly wiggled them from the sides to get them to go down. She pressed the top of her head against his groin after the belt was below it and made a show of watching them fall. When they were at the floor, she looked up at him.
“Undo the shoes.” She untied the laces and loosened them, then held one shoe to the floor. He nodded and pulled his foot out, and they repeated it with the second shoe. He reached down and took her hand, then pulled her up to him. He felt her panties; they were quite damp. “Excited, are you?”
“Yes, I am.” She had gasped when he touched her.
“Take off your panties. Make a show of it.”
She twisted the panties back and forth and lowered them slowly. When they were at her knees, she gracefully pulled one leg out, then swung it wide and turned around and bent over. She slowly lowered the panties to her other ankle and hopped out of them, then stood and faced him while sniffing the damp panties.
“Very nice. Now take my underwear off, fast.”
She grabbed it and yanked it to the floor. He stepped out of it. He pulled her arm, and they both fell onto the bed. He started stroking her body and kissing her nipples, and she ran her hands over his abdomen, making him gasp.
They kept at the foreplay for some time. Allison was wishing he would move on; she was already about as turned on as she thought she could get. She didn’t want to say so, though, even though he had said earlier to relax and forget she was a slave for the evening. He finally looked at her and asked, “Are you ready?”
“I have been for a long time. Please, fuck me.”
He chuckled and said, “Grab a condom from the bedside table and put it on me.”
She grabbed the condom and unrolled it slowly and carefully over his member, then laid back down. He immediately rolled over on her, and she guided him inside her. It was an intense fucking. He started slow and sped up slowly. She was matching his movements. She had several orgasms before he grunted and lay still on top of her. He stayed there for a while, breathing heavily, then rolled off. “Cuddle up, Allison.”
She did, and he wrapped one arm around her, gave her a kiss, and closed his eyes to sleep. She followed suit.

Elizabeth followed Penelope into Penelope’s bedroom after they had done all the clean-up work. “Is this part of your orders?”
“In a way. He told me I could have you for the night, and I’ve become fond of female attention, because it’s a lot easier to get. He also told me to chain you for the night.”
“I suppose you must. You know, I never thought about other women and sex until a couple of years ago, and now they are my primary interest.”
“Then this won’t be too bad for you.”
“No. I did like George — Mr. Johnson — fucking me last night, though.”
“He is good. I’m kind of his backup sex toy, when he doesn’t bring a bar girl home.” Penelope disrobed and got on the bed and said, “Get licking, Liz.”
Elizabeth got into position and began. As she did so, she thought that she should feel angry about being ordered to lick her old friend, but she realized that it didn’t bother her. Maybe she had accepted slavery, she thought, or maybe she just wanted sex.

George rolled off Pamela. They both lay still. George was breathing heavily. She finally said, “I always like coming over here for a slave swap. You always hammer away at me for so long, and it feels so good.”
“I always like having you here. Why do you think I always bring the most beautiful slaves to entice Billy?”
“You could have bought me after Billy enslaved me. He wasn’t happy then.”
“Yes, but I don’t think that would have been good for him, and I value his friendship. I did take you to use as a suck slave. That let him cool down and it drove reality into your head.”
“And it let you fuck me in chains for two months.”
“That was a great two months. He calmed down, you were reconciled to being a slave, I took you to his house nude and chained, and he was thrilled to see you.”
“Yes, and he didn’t unchain me for another month.”
“And he fucked you twice a day.”
“That was the upside to being chained. At least his house slave had to take care of me.”
“There’s a thought. I could loan him a slave and take you for a month and keep you chained. Penelope could take care of you, and you could take care of her with your tongue.”
“That might be fun for a week, but a month in chains is too long.”
“How about being leased as a pony girl for a month?”
“You’re right, chain me up for a month.”
They both laughed. George said, “OK, Pamela, clean me off and we’ll get some sleep.”
“Will you be wanting to use me in the morning?”
“Have I ever not used you in the morning at a slave swap?”
“No.”
“There’s your answer.” He smiled as she moved to clean him with her mouth. She almost got him hard again.

“OK, Liz, I’m tired and I have to go to sleep, and so do you.” They had licked each other to at least two orgasms each, and they were sated for now. “I was ordered to chain you for the night, and I always obey orders because I like it here and want to stay here. I hope you understand.”
“Yes, Penelope, I understand. Can you make it a long chain?”
“The longest I have.” Penelope got an eight-foot chain with handcuff fittings at each end and used it to lock Elizabeth to the leg of her bed. “Sleep well. We’ll get up in the morning to make breakfast. I won’t put that helmet back on unless you want me to; it wasn’t a part of my instructions.”
“I don’t know if I want them to know. I knew them before I was enslaved.”
“She’s a slave too.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It’s not common knowledge, but I know he enslaved her when he was mad at her, and our owner took her to the bar to be a suck slave for two months. They obviously made up. Her owner brings her here every once in a while for a slave swap night. If he knows about you being Mr. Johnson’s slave, he may want you as the swap slave.”
Elizabeth didn’t say anything. She was torn between embarrassment and wanting Billy to fuck her. She fell asleep pondering the conflict.

Allison woke in the morning to Billy waking up. He said, “Good morning. Look what I have for you.” She looked down and saw his erection, which looked bigger this morning than it had felt the night before.
“One of my favorite things. Why don’t you put it where it belongs?” She spread her legs wide and pulled her labia apart.
He immediately took her up on her offer, lining up on her opening and sliding inside with one smooth thrust. It was a long, slow fuck, different from the intensity of the night before. They rocked together in mutual comfort, kissing. When he finally erupted, she held onto him to keep him in and on her. He finally said, “Let’s move to the shower.” She let go, and he took her by the hand and led her away.

George woke up to see Pamela sitting up, watching him. Seeing her nude body got his erection off to a fast start. “Good morning, sleepyhead. I was wondering if you would sleep so late that you wouldn’t have time to use me.”
“Never. You can do the work this time, though.”
Pamela straddled him and used her hands to get his cock to her entrance. She pushed down and he felt himself slip inside a well-lubricated vagina. “It seems that you were anxious for this, Pamela.”
“No more than usual,” she replied as she started to move up and down rapidly.
He grinned and let her work. She was insatiable, and they both knew it. It had started after her enslavement, when she couldn’t refuse any more. It was a common side effect of enslavement.
He finally took a finger to her clit and rubbed her as she bucked on top of him. She sped up even more. This time, he came first, but she was right behind him.

Penelope was in the kitchen with Elizabeth making breakfast. She had dressed, but Elizabeth was nude, protected by an apron as she cooked. “I hear them running around upstairs, Liz. Do you want the hood?”
“No, I’ll just stay in the kitchen. If they see me, they see me.”
“Suit yourself.” Penelope set the table and put out tea, coffee, and orange juice. A few minutes later all four of them were in the dining room, attracted by the aroma of the coffee and the bacon. Penelope served them. After he was done eating, George Johnson addressed Penelope: “Where is your assistant?”
“She is in the kitchen.”
“Is she wearing her hood?”
“No.”
“Have her come in here.”
Penelope went back to the kitchen and told Elizabeth, “Take off the apron and go into the dining room. Mr. Johnson asked for you.”
Elizabeth took off the apron and hung it up, then said, “Is he angry?”
“No. I think he just wants to show you off.”
“That’s what I expected.”
Elizabeth walked through the door and stood just inside the dining room. “Yes, sir?” she said, looking at Mr. Johnson.
“I wanted you to meet my guests. I believe you are acquainted. Pamela, Billy, this is Elizabeth.”
Pamela looked at Elizabeth, looking shocked. Billy took in her nude form with appreciation showing on his face.
Elizabeth blushed. She said, looking at Pamela, “Hello, Pamela. I was enslaved this week and sold to Mr. Johnson. I’m now a suck slave at his bar. Hello, Billy.”
“Hello, Liz. You look good like that. I hadn’t heard anything about this. What happened?”
She looked at her owner, who nodded. “He was having business difficulties, and I wasn’t very supportive; I was spending too much, and we hadn’t been having sex for quite a while. It got too much for him and he sold me. My new owner took me on as a suck slave to keep me from the slaughterhouse.”
Billy turned to George. “I’ve always wanted a crack at her. Could I take her home?”
“Sorry, she’s been a hit at the bar and I need her there. When you are recharged, though, I can let you have her for an hour in the Service Room, if you bring Pamela along to swap.”
“It’s a deal.” He looked at Elizabeth and said, “It seems we have a date. I’m looking forward to it.”
Elizabeth nodded. It was what she had expected. She was settling into slavery faster than she had expected, and faster than her new owner had expected. He watched her quiet acquiescence and smiled.

Back at the bar, Joan was on the phone. “Hello, Jillian’s Slave Training Studio.”
“This is Joan at Suckers. I’d like to speak to Jillian.”
“Of course, Joan. I’ll call her to the phone.”
“Thanks, Donna.”
A minute later, Jillian was on the phone. “Hi, Joan. We need to get together again for some fun.”
“That would be nice. I have a boyfriend now, so I’m not quite as hard up as I was.”
“Me, too.”
“Let me guess — your co-host.”
Jillian laughed. “Everyone expects that, and it’s true. Still, a girl now and then is still nice.”
“You’ve got dozens of them.”
“So do you.”
“True. A good licker can be hard to find.”
“Maybe we can arrange a slave swap sometime?”
“That might be fun. I can see the look on Jim’s face if I offered him Jillian the slave trainer.”
“Terror?”
“Maybe. He watches your show with me.”
“Then he should know I only do that stuff to slaves.”
“I’m sure he would make me proud.”
“Anyway, what do you need, if this isn’t a social call?”
“I’ve got a high-priced bitch here that we need to get producing revenue. She has the skills to be a top-notch sucker, as well as a lot of other things, but she is a first-class bitch and won’t adapt to being a slave. I thought we might need to bring in a slave breaker, but perhaps the gentler approach that you take would get the results we need without destroying her.”
Jillian laughed. “Gentle isn’t a word often applied to my methods, but you are right, I’m easier on them than a slave breaker would be. How old is she?”
“Mid-forties, in good shape, smart, pretty, very hard-headed and unwilling to submit.”
“How did she get enslaved?”
“Volunteer defensive enslavement to avoid being barbecued.”
Jillian grinned. “Oh ho, is it the gold-plated bitch that I’m thinking about?”
“Yes, I’m sure you have figured out which high-profile bitch we have here. I need her in a state to suck in the bar as soon as possible. Her daughter is just fine.”
“I met the bitch at a slave training seminar. She dismissed me as a brutal hack and because I was a slave. A self-owned slave, but she didn’t know that. Having her as a trainee would be delicious.”
“Think you can handle it?”
“As well as a slave breaker, with less chance of complete destruction.”
“OK, we’ll get her over there this afternoon. Have fun!”
“You know I will, Joan.”

When Mr. Johnson arrived at the bar with Allison and Elizabeth, he told Allison, “Hand her over to any green collar, then get naked. See Joan for schedule updates. You did well, Allison; Billy was very happy with you. Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes, Mr. Johnson, I did. It was a nice break from the usual routine, and I loved being fucked.”
“So you considered the evening to be a reward?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Good. I hoped that being handed over for sex would be a reward.”
“It was. It would be even more of a reward to have you select me for sex.”
“I take girls home occasionally. I’ll keep you in mind.”
“Thank you.” Allison walked to the sucker preparation area and found a green-collar. “Mr. Johnson wants someone to deal with her and get her ready for sucking.”
“Has she eaten?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll check her schedule. You look nice.”
Allison looked down at her dress. “It’s a shame. My next task is to take it off.”
“It is nice to be able to wear clothes now and then. It makes you feel almost human again.”
“True. Well, off to take it all off.”
Allison soon had herself in her birthday suit. She went to the office, hoping to find Joan.
“Hello, Allison. Did you enjoy the slave swap?”
“Oh, yes. Very much. It was nice to be in clothes and at a small party, where everyone was friendly. It was nice to get fucked, too. Very, very nice. Anyway, Mr. Johnson told me to see you about my schedule.”
“Yes. Right now, sit at this computer and take the red-collar test. After that, you get some on-the-job training during the lunch rush.”

(Following on from “The Whipping“, we return to George Page’s PoV)

I chatted briefly with Cov and Hun and didn’t rise to their semi-snide comparisons of the way we treated our respective Wheaton Heights Wives.

With Claire Winters looking on, I complimented them on the event so far, and thanked them for introducing me to Monsieur Avignon.

I let them go as they went over to Ernestine to join the camera crew for a more intimate interview.

All the while I’d ignored, as much as possible, the slave that I’d ordered to lick the ‘basting’ paste from my hand.   I’d noticed her movements slowing down, and an increasing warmth in my fingers, but I’d been determined to show the women that I could be as callous as they could.

I may have done better than I’d known, because as soon as they were out of earshot, two slaves hurried over to us.

“Master,” the first one to reach us said urgently, “That paste is mildly acidic, ah, it contains some chemicals that break down the skin to further tenderise the meat.   Ah, it can cause permanent damage if we don’t get it cleaned off quickly.”

I quickly held out my hand for her to wipe down with a wet towel, while the other one hovered nervously. If they were so concerned about my hand … Fuck!

“Can you neutralize it?   For her?”   I nodded at the slave who’d been licking my fingers.

“In the clinic, Master, can we?”   They looked over to the back corner of the courtyard, where one of the arms joined the cross at the kitchen.

“Lead on” I ordered, helping my slave to her feet. I nodded as one of the others had her rinse her mouth out before taking a long drink of water.

The ‘Clinic’ they lead me to was a well set up little facility in the back corner of the complex, almost a mini-hospital, with several treatment rooms as well as a couple of small ‘recovery’ type wards.

The thickness of the doors on the ‘treatment’ rooms should have been my first clue, but it wasn’t until I saw a slave - well, a presumed slave - strapped to the table in the last room, with what looked like a dozen surgical clamps attached to her breasts that I realised that this was as much of a torture facility as the courtyard or the dungeon I’d looked into.

Some of it may have been psychological, but by the time we reached the sluice area, my hand - my dominant left hand, of course - was beginning to sting quite badly.   I didn’t want to think about how the slave’s mouth and throat felt.

I very quickly had the paste washed off, and a cooling anesthetic (and antiseptic?) gel smeared over it.   When it was offered, I accepted a thin gauze glove as well.

Looking at my victim, I watched as she was made to rinse her mouth some more and then gargle a sharp smelling liquid.

“You’re both medics?” I asked as her attendant shone the expected device down her throat, looking for damage.

The one who treated me snorted.   “I’m an MD, and Kate’s a registered nurse, or she was.”

“Ah.   This place would keep you fairy busy, then.”   Another snort.

“How is she?” I went on as she didn’t offer any more information.

“Tongue and lips are the worst,” the other one - Kate - answered, “But then you’d expect that.   Throat’s inflamed, but I don’t think it’s too bad.   I doubt she swallowed very much.”

“Good.” I knelt next to my victim and took her hands.

“I’m sorry I did this to you,” I told her, very much to her surprise, I imagine.   “I didn’t mean to, but that’s my fault for leaping before I knew what I was putting my hand into.”   She nodded when I finished. “Is there anything I can do?”

“She’ll get points for this,” the MD said.   “Not many, because there wasn’t all that much damage, but I don’t think we’ve ever had anyone eat the paste before.   And her obedience was perfect, too.”

I pulled a card from my shirt pocket and handed it to her.   “If there’s ever anything, give me a call.”

***

Jesus, I thought as I wandered back out to the courtyard.   I’d thought that I was riding the rough edge of my personality when I beat on my Debbie, but half the things I’d seen here were giving my ideas.   I amble past some of the displays that had been set up while the queue basted poor Earnie.

Most of it was low key stuff - girls in whipping posts, or getting fucked in pillories, that sort of thing.   But there were a couple that stood out.   They were winding up before the main event, so I couldn’t watch them for too long.

One was a ‘human dartboard’:   A slave was strapped to a wheel like an old knife thrower’s assistant and the wheel was spun while the ‘players’ threw oversized darts.   When the board spun to a stop, I was surprised to see the slave wearing a hard plastic mask over her fast and throat.   I would have expected her to have to take her chances with getting a dart in the eye, but it soon occurred to me that it was Cov and Hun who weren’t taking any chances:   It wouldn’t do to have some mere slave upstage their show by dying by accident.

That explained some of the urgency of the two medics, as well, I supposed.

The other interesting exhibit was more complicated.   This time the slave was suspended by her feet from a gantry that extended out from the rooftree.   With her hair just sweeping the ground, the swing arm must have been something like twenty feet.   That part of it alone, I could see possibilities for - thank you Foucault - but it didn’t stop there:   on each swing, she swung between two large metal domes.   As she did so, fat, juicy sparks leapt out from the Van der Graff generators.

She must have been well gagged, or very well trained, because I didn’t hear anything over the Hummm-Zap! of the generators.

Like the dartboard, though, this one was also coming to an end.   The swinger was slowed till she hung still, directly between the domes!   The discharge rate went up dramatically until they were turned off.   She was left hanging, but the machines were quieted so as not to distract from the main event.

While I’d been away, Ernestine had been moved from her upright frame to the ‘kneeling supplicant’ restraints of a Jessica 3000, her neck and spine held rigidly in place, her arms stretched out in front of her.

I worked my way to the front of the onlookers, up by her head, almost despite myself.   I was damned sure I wasn’t going to enjoy this anywhere near as much as I’d thought I would.

There was absolutely no expression in Earnestine’s eyes as the tip of the shaft, the spit, was seated in her anus, and I wondered if I had hurt her more than I’d helped when I’d brought her back - if I’d brought her back - earlier.   If she’d found some place inside herself, I’d probably not done her a favour.

Still, I was hardly the demon of this piece.   The spit may have been ready, but Cov & Hun weren’t ready to let their Earnie go quite yet. They stepped up to where her hands were splayed against the metal frame of the Jessica and rapped the machine hard with bulb-headed metal rods.

Earnie blinked at the sudden noise, but that was it:   she didn’t track her tormenters the way I’d seen her do the night before, or even as recently as her whipping.   From the look of it, if they wanted a live spit roast, they’d better get on with it.

I was wrong.   Earnestine focused and started tracking again the instant Hun brought her baton down to smash one of her fingers.   Then it was Cov’s turn, and they alternated until her hands must have been shattered.

I could understand why they did it - it was like Winters had said earlier, there was no point tormenting someone who wasn’t aware of it - but there was something beyond callous in the way they did it.

Finally, they were done, and with a flourish, Cov pressed the button that started the machine.   Earnie didn’t react much for the first several inches, but I wasn’t surprised given they way she’d been reamed out the night before, starting with myself and graduating up to Cov’s fist. God only knew what they’d got up to after Tia and I left.

I could tell when it hit the first serious resistance by the way her eyes widened and the slight pause in the shaft before the sharpened point pushed through whatever membrane or intestinal wall it had hung up on and continued its remorseless inch-per-second progress.

Her breathing changed as it punctured her diaphragm, and then she spasmed - despite the rigid restraint - as the spit forced its way into her esophagus.

I watched her throat bulge at the end, just before it appeared between her teeth.

The shaft continued to come out until a full yard had passed completely through her before stopping.   Earnestine’s ragged heartbeat thumped out over the PA system as the MD slave I’d spoken with earlier held a microphone to her chest before bowing deeply to Cov and Hun and announcing solemnly “She is alive, Mistresses.”

The two Hosts grinned hugely as the whole compound burst into applause.   Bowing themselves, they reached forward and pressed the next button on the Jessica, causing the gutting blades to sweep out and disembowel their slave - their meal, now - in a gout of blood.

They walked hand in hand the length of the machine until they reached the offal tray at the end.   Hun reached in and picked up something - I figured that it was probably the liver - and cut a long slice.   She seared it quickly on a prepared hotplate and offered one end to Cov.   Taking the other end between her own teeth, they embraced and nibbled down the virtually raw slice of meat.

I could barely hold down my gorge as they met in the middle and sank into a deep soul-kiss to renewed applause and a couple of cat calls.

That was it, for me, I had had enough.   ‘Friend of Jamis’ I might have called myself, but at least Paul Atreides never had to watch the deathstill in action.

Earnestine Royal had expired, at last.   I reached out and closed her eyes, only to look up into the smirk on the face of Claire Winters.

“Staying for Dinner?” she asked.

(Carrying on from ‘The Whipping‘, Earnestine’s Owners have a message to pass on)

Cov and Hun: Faded Lotus Events (Fade Out Films Transcripts)

Eleanor:   Fade Out Films is producing “Earnestine”s Last Supper” here at Faded Lotus Dolcett Village in Stepford.   This is a DVD bonus section, an interview with Mistress Covington.   I”m Eleanor, your host and a GVVN person of limited rights.   Mistress Covington has a statement for the Wheaton Heights ladies.

Cov & Hun image 1

Cov: (blows cigarette smoke in Eleanor”s face—Eleanor coughs) They are bitches—snooty, bitchy, whiney, cunts that never worked hard in their worthless lives.   (Cov puffs on her clove cigarette and drops it on the ground, lights another).   This is how to make dinner, bitching cunts.   Start with one stupid snooty socialite.   Broaden her horizons—and as the man says, other orifices.   Beat well.   Run her until she collapses.   It doesn”t take much.   Earnie baby was so lazy that shopping was hard for her.   Next, we whip the shit out of her.   We fix her to the grill and spice her up.   The moment of truth is when we let Earnie in on the joke.   She”s the joke!

Eleanor: I see that you have her trussed up already.

Cov: Now Hun is going to inject the special flavoring into Earnie”s brain.   It will make her feel every little thing magnified a thousand times.   She has only a few hours to live—and she will be very grateful when the pain stops.   Taking away her oxygen won”t kill her.   The stuff breaks down at 140 degrees so it is safe to eat her brains.   We will.   This DVD is to put all those spoiled rich bitches of Wheaton Heights on notice. (takes a last drag on her clove cigarette and drops it on the ground) Earnie was a Royal pain in our ass from Day One.   When Hun and I worked at the Bargain Hunter Supermarket, her complaints got us fired.   Every day she showed up was a day the manager got a complaint about me or Hun or both of us.   We were rude to her, she said.   We reeked of tobacco smoke. (lights up another clove cigarette, puffs on it) Finally, after being put on probation without pay for a week, we were told to never return.

Hun: Yes, Earnie is ready now.   It”s payback for the restaurant when Earnie dumped that soup all over me. (dumps a bowl of red paste on Earnestine and spreads it around with her gloved hand) This would really burn if I didn”t have gloves.   See?   Earnie here is trying to get away from the burn.   The flavor enhancer is working its magic.   Earnie can”t make a squeak anymore.   She”s dead.   She is just stuck in her body for our amusement until the flavor enhancer burns out of her system over the coals.   About that restaurant—there was a little waviness in her wine glass.   Earnie bitched so much about that little blemish that we didn”t get any tips from either table that night.   We got fired again because Miss Perfect here said that we had put pubic hair in her food.

Cov & Hun image 2

Cov: Rich Bitch kept showing up wherever we worked and caused us trouble.   We lost a pet grooming business we started because she and her friends boycotted us.   We finally had to leave for our current location, Fort Jones, Arkansas, because we kept getting harassed by Earnie and her brunch bunch.   I bet she regretted that.   We were out of state when WSA 2000 was passed or Earnie might have gotten us enslaved.   Her bad!   We left our problems behind and started a dude ranch.

Hun: Yeah.   (Finished with Earnestine Royal, removes gloves) When we saw Governor Rush roast his daughters, it was Hello!   Why not start a live roast dude ranch?   We knew food.   I was a butcher in the Bargain Hunter Meat Department.   Cov knew the spices.   Cov, may I have a cigarette?

Cov: Sure, Hun. (lights two and passes one to Hun).   Don”t forget Earnie”s anti-smoking crusade.   She got us tossed out of our trailer court for smoking too much!

Hun: As if she would know.   (long drag and exhales) She and the other Wheaton Heights bitches never knew.   We are going to be buying other Wheaton Heights bitches and even roasting them in their own homes.   Isn”t that right, George?   You bought three of them and you want to be part of this scene.

Cov: That bitch Bethany is forted up in that Eastlake University Castleman thing—but she won”t be there forever.   We”re waiting.   Sharon is on our list, so is Alex.   And don”t think your spoiled brats are safe, either!   Tiffany had better watch her back.   She could be sent out on a fake slave pick-up and wind up here.   We have been bugging Ben about what a slut his daughter has been!   It doesn”t matter if Tiffy slut is really a good girl or not—what matters is that lovey dovey daddy loses it and slaves Tiffy bitch so that we can roast her too.

Cov & Hun image 3

Hun: The only thing is that we regret is that Earnie cunt won”t see that.   We have an option to buy Sandra next.   There is supposed to be a two-girl roast in Wheaton Heights next week.

Cov: Anyway, Faded Lotus Dolcett Village is the premier dining experience in Stepford, just 90 minutes away from lovely Wheaton Heights.   Look us up on the World Wide Web. (finishes her cigarette in a long drag)   Look out, rich bitches!   We will have our vengeance.

Eleanor: Whew! (Fans herself) Mistress Covington!   That was quite the message!

Cov: What do you mean by that?

Eleanor: You made it clear that you have been wronged, Mistress Covington.   You have put the ladies of Wheaton Heights on notice.   At least the free women of Wheaton Heights.   They will never know if they are going to lunch or going to be lunch.

Cov: That”s right!

Cov & Hun image 4

In the morning, George Johnson rose and went into the bathroom, leaving Delia and Elizabeth on the bed. Delia wasn’t restrained, but Elizabeth remained tethered by a chain to her collar. Elizabeth asked, “Why am I chained when you aren’t?”

Delia responded, “Because that’s the way your owner wants it. They usually keep new slaves restrained more than slaves that have been here for a while. I was restrained a lot when I was new here.”

Elizabeth seemed to accept this explanation. “Well, at least he didn’t wake us up for sex.”

Delia laughed. “Either you were exhausted, or you can sleep through anything. He mounted me about 2 AM and gave me a good, solid fucking, which I enjoyed.”

Shortly after that, he came back into the room and told Delia, “Let her loose. You two do what you need in the bathroom. The three of us will shower together in five minutes.”

As he said, they were all in the large shower in five minutes. The water was pleasantly warm, and Elizabeth was feeling a little less put-upon, until he took two pairs of stainless steel handcuffs from a hook on the wall of the shower and said, “Here, Delia, put a pair of these on Elizabeth, then cuff yourself. In front.”

Elizabeth found that Delia was quite accomplished at cuffing girls. She was almost immediately bound, as was Delia. Delia was smiling, and Elizabeth couldn’t figure out why. He interrupted her thoughts by saying, “OK, girls, wash me.”

She had resented being called ‘girl’ for years, but she decided that making a scene about it was unwise. She took some soap and started rubbing it over his body, while Delia washed his short-cropped hair. The two of them washed him starting near the top and working their way down. Delia took extreme care to wash his pubic region thoroughly, rinsing it several times, then giving it a final once-over with her mouth. When they were done washing his feet, he said, “Wash each other.” Elizabeth washed Delia’s hair, and Delia washed Elizabeth’s hair, then they both washed each other’s bodies. Elizabeth didn’t spend any extra time on Delia’s breasts or pudenda, but Delia spent a lot of time on Elizabeth’s. Elizabeth was gasping in pleasure when Delia finished. Mr. Johnson grinned; Delia noticed his erection. “Delia, you need more washing. Elizabeth, wash Delia’s breasts and pussy the way she washed yours.” Elizabeth did so, obviously giving Delia pleasure. Mr. Johnson’s erection was even stiffer when she was finished. He reached up and brought down a chain with a snap hook on the end. Elizabeth hadn’t noticed it before, but she noticed several of them up there now, along with several rings on the walls, apparently to attach slaves to. He snapped the chain onto Elizabeth’s cuffs, then put her against the wall and pulled on the other end of the chain, forcing Elizabeth’s arms above her head. The chain seemed to be on a ratchet device; when he let go, it didn’t loosen up. He grabbed Elizabeth by the hips and raised her so her pussy was at the right height, the told Delia, “Pull the chain.” Delia did so, taking out the slack. He let go of Elizabeth, letting her hang from her handcuffs, and turned to Delia. “Put a condom on me.” She put on the condom. He asked her, “What’s wrong with you and that pout?”

“You are going to fuck her rather than me.”

“It’s not the most comfortable way to get fucked.”

“No, but it is being fucked.”

“I’ll be sure to get you fucked again soon, Delia.” That seemed to make her happier.

He turned back to Elizabeth, grabbed her hips, and told Delia, “Guide me in.” Delia deftly aimed his cock at its target, and he buried himself within the pussy, then started slamming away, making a loud slapping sound at each impact. Elizabeth was not comfortable, but still found the sex exciting. She wondered why; she hadn’t been all that excited about sex with her husband in years. She decided to think about that later and tried to respond to his hammering. The only way she could was by trying to squeeze his cock with her vagina. She couldn’t tell whether he could feel it. Soon, too soon for her, he climaxed and stood still in the shower, still embedded within her. He soon caught his breath and pulled out, leaving her hanging by the handcuffs again. At least, she thought, he had let her down easy so that her wrists didn’t absorb the impact of her weight stopping. He reached up to some mechanism that she couldn’t see and unlocked the ratchet, letting her slide to the floor. He removed the snap hook from the handcuffs, then turned to Delia. “Take off the condom and clean me.” Delia immediately dropped to her knees and pulled off the condom, then used her mouth to clean off the remnants of the sex. She rinsed him with water after that.

“Very good, ladies. Get me dried off and then you two can dry each other.”

Shortly after that, he was out of the bathroom getting dressed. The two slaves dried each other, taking longer than usual because of the handcuffs. They came out of the bathroom and stood in front of Mr. Johnson as he was finishing dressing.

“You are looking good, ladies. Here, Delia, let me help you.” He unlocked Delia’s handcuffs. “Be sure to put those special handcuffs back in the shower. Get her cuffed and leashed and then go on to breakfast. Check in with Joan for your assignments.” He drew Elizabeth to him and rubbed her pussy with his hand. “You did very well last night, Elizabeth. I enjoyed the encounter, and the one we had this morning. I could also tell that you were upset with some parts, but kept still about it. You may settle in faster than I thought to slavery and working here. You got good reviews yesterday and made quite a bit of money for the bar. Keep it up.” He kissed Delia on the cheek and said, “As always, Delia, it was a delight to be with you.” He left the room, and Delia got her handcuff key from the table by the door to replace Elizabeth’s in-front handcuffs with the regular ones behind her back.

During this transition, Elizabeth said, “You would have liked to take my place in the shower, hanging from handcuffs?”

“For another fuck, sure. I would have wrapped my legs around him to pull him into me.”

“I would think you would get enough of sex, sucking cocks all of the time.”

“No, I don’t. Sucking them only makes me want them in my pussy more. It’s funny, but it’s true. The slaves in this bar are the horniest bunch I’ve ever been around. We suck, we play with each other, but most of us crave being fucked. I can’t explain it. I’d willingly go on an ass-pipe to get fucked.”

“An ass-pipe? What’s that?”

“The slave stands with her feet spread apart and strapped down. They shove a big dildo in her rear and force it in deep, then put a pipe between the dildo and the floor, usually pushing her up. After an hour or so, the man comes in and fucks her standing up. Her hands are usually bound above her head for all of this. The waiting time is what makes it painful, I’ve been told.”

“Someone here has been on that?”

“A slave he bought from another bar. No matter what you think about being a slave here, it’s better than almost any of the other suck bars. Even our black-collar slaves live better than suck slaves at other bars. Slave brothels are even worse for most slaves in them. That reminds me — Mr. Johnson is going to expand the bar and start a fuck business. If there is a market for attractive older women doing sucks, there is probably a market for attractive older women doing fucks. You may be in line for that. I expect that his fuck slaves would do better than other fuck slaves.” After imparting that wisdom, Delia led Elizabeth to the chow hall by her leash. Elizabeth was chewing on what she had heard about it being better here than other places slaves, then started thinking about how much she hated being led around on a leash.

“Will I always be on a leash?”

“Probably not. I was for a while after my arrival, but I behaved myself and did what I was told, and soon enough I was uncuffed and off leash most of the time, except when I was sucking. I hadn’t been a slave long before I came here, so it was an introduction to slavery as well as an introduction to being a suck slave in a bar. It will be the same for you. I’m sure that if you behave and suck well, they will ease up in a few weeks. I know that if you don’t behave or don’t suck well, you will be punished, and the punishments are real punishments that hurt and degrade you. You don’t want them.”

“Worse than that shock dildo on the suck trainer?”

“Far worse.”

“I’ll try to be good, then.”

Delia again left Elizabeth attached to a floor chain while she got them food, then gave Elizabeth one hand free to eat with. Elizabeth saw another slave handcuffed behind her back being fed a meager breakfast by another black-collar slave. “What’s up with that?”
Delia looked over at the scene and said, “I don’t know. She probably broke a rule and is being cuffed all of the time for a while. One black-collar tried to get away once, and I saw her being fed like that, and then I saw her whipped.” Delia didn’t go into how she herself had been whipped just after that as part of her introduction to slavery. Elizabeth just shuddered. After breakfast, Delia cuffed Elizabeth again and took her to the nearly-abandoned white-collar waiting area and locked her leash to a chair. “Sit here while I find out what to do with you.”

Delia walked into the office. She realized that just a few weeks before, she would not have been able to come here. As limited as her freedom was now, it was better than it was before. Several green collar slaves that ran black-collar security had seen her and didn’t interfere with her walking through the bar. She saw Joan and said, “Mr. Johnson told me to find you and get my assignment and Elizabeth’s assignment for the day.”

Joan looked up and smiled at Delia. “Have a seat. I’d like to talk with you.” Delia sat, thinking that Joan looked relaxed and happy. “Have you read the green-collar book and the floor operations guide?”

“Yes. Louise lent them to me and I read them each several times. I’ve also read the waitress guide and the red-collar guide.”
Joan grinned. “Horrors! The top-secret red-collar guide in the hands of a white-collar! Call the FBI!”

Delia and Joan both laughed. “I’m a secret agent from another bar, trying to get the secret of the perfect suck.”

Joan laughed even harder. “There’s no secret there. One man’s perfect suck is another man’s waste of time. We just play the percentages. The reason I asked is that we have a shortage of leadership and brainpower around here, and you are progressing nicely. You were in college, in business courses, and you have adapted well to life and work here. Your leading worked out well.”
“That’s just hauling suckers out and bringing them back, with a little data entry.”

Joan looked serious. “Not really. The leader is almost as important in the process as the sucker. She sets the respectful mood, provides a female body for the customer to look at while being sucked, since the sucker is mostly out of sight, and thanks the patron for his business. Most suck bars don’t use leaders; they just send suckers out on the floor for waitresses to guide to customers. That neglects both the serving of drinks and the delivery of sucks. Believe it or not, sucks are not the big profit center of the bar. Alcohol is the profit center. Sucking is used to bring people in. Sucks do provide revenue, and good revenue, but the biggest benefit to the bar of offering sucks is to sell more alcohol.”

Delia mulled that over while Joan consulted some papers. “I want you to continue working like a green collar today, leading suckers. I would also like you to talk to green-collars and waitresses to understand the jobs they do, as an extension of your education. Where is Elizabeth?”

“She’s fastened to a chair in the white-collar waiting area.”

“Good. How did she please Mr. Johnson? For that matter, how did you please Mr. Johnson?”

“He didn’t have any complaints about either of us. He seemed really happy with Elizabeth, and he liked his one episode with me.”

“Jealous, are we?”

“Yes. He told me he’d get me fucked soon.”

Joan grinned. “I’ll help on that one. Do you remember me giving you Neil’s phone numbers?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“When I took them from him, I told him there would be a price. He came in last evening, and since you were busy, I had him pay me. Boy, did he pay me. I’ll arrange for you to have the Fuck Room or the Service Room when he is available.”

Delia didn’t know whether to be happy about getting access to Neil, or angry about him fucking Joan. Joan knew it. “Don’t get upset about it. I shared my boyfriend with you when I went off with Mr. Johnson. You were with Mr. Johnson, I was horny, and he was horny. You like Jim fucking you. I proposed that Neil and you join Jim and me as a couple and that the men could share slaves. I know that Jim wouldn’t mind. I figure that after you have had Neil for a while, you won’t mind either. He is a really good fuck.”
Delia finally grinned. “He really is a good fuck. So is Jim. I’ll go along with your plan, as if I really have any choice in the matter.”
Joan looked at Delia with a serious expression. “You are a valuable slave here. If you were unalterably opposed to it, I would have to take your objections seriously. It would be likely that Neil would refuse if you didn’t want to. It is an important part of slave management to realize when pushing too hard is the wrong thing to do.”

Delia was taken aback. “Yes, Joan.”

“Did you have any other questions or problems?”

“What should I do with Elizabeth?”

“If she has had breakfast, take her to the white-collar dorm and get her a bunk. She can stay there until mid-afternoon, when we’ll put her back on suck duty. The dorm supervisor will see to her needs, and Elizabeth can see to the supervisor’s needs.” They both smiled, knowing that the dorm supervisor’s needs always involved a female tongue.

“I also thought about the RFID implants. I heard about it when that black collar was whipped before me. Elizabeth isn’t covered by the slave-detection system, even if it only covers a few doors.”

Joan smiled. “Good thinking, both in asset protection and in the limits of that asset protection. We’ve put the sensors in a few more places since then. We will catch almost all runaways now. Not you, of course, seeing as you don’t have the RFID implant, but almost all. I’ll take care of Elizabeth later today.”

“Why didn’t you shoot one of those things into my butt?”

“You aren’t our property, and you weren’t considered likely to try to escape. If you ran off, you were your father’s problem, and he could deal with whipping you. You didn’t run, and you’ve been a good girl. So far. I need to have you lick me more.”

“Well, the bar doesn’t open for a few hours. Your room or mine?”

Joan replied, “My room.” She rose and headed for the door. “Meet me there after you deliver Elizabeth to the white-collar dorm.”

“Will you cuff me?”

“Do you need to be cuffed?”

“Not really.”

“Then probably not.”

Delia got Elizabeth and led her to the white-collar dorm. “This will be your living area. The bathroom and showers are over there,” she said, gesturing, “and the sleeping rooms are over there. This is the common room, where we have a television, books, magazines, newspapers, cards, and games. White-collar slaves that are in good status can use this room when they are off duty. We’ll show you the workout room later. All slaves are required to work out and maintain a sexually appealing appearance. The room I’m taking you to is the dorm supervisor’s office. She is in charge. She will assign you a sleeping room, where you will have a small storage area for belongings. During your off-duty time, you may converse with or play games with other white collar slaves. Feel free to engage in sexual behavior with them, as long as it is consensual on both sides. No white-collar slave can require you to engage in sex or other activities without authorization from an authorized slave. All green-collar, yellow-collar, and red-collar slaves can make you do just about anything, as of course Mr. Johnson can. The dorm supervisor is well known for requiring white-collar slaves to perform for her sexually. I expect that you will be doing so today before you go on duty.” Delia walked into the office, where she found a green-collar slave sitting in a chair with a white-collar slave performing oral sex on her. “Hi, Laura. I hate to interrupt, but I have a new slave for you.”

“You’re not interrupting. She can go right on with what she is doing while we talk. Who is the new one?”

“Laura, this is Elizabeth. We just got her yesterday. She’s been doing good work sucking. She is to remain cuffed or otherwise restrained until further instructions from Joan.”

“Just like you were. Where was she last night?”

“In the Fuck Room, with me, being used by Mr. Johnson.”

“I’d like to get some of that.”

“That’s not my department. Joan sent me to turn her over to you and have you deal with her until she goes on duty later in the afternoon. She needs a bed assignment, and, of course, lunch. She’s bathed already today. I think that Louise may get her to put her on the suck trainer sometime. And I heard that Mr. Johnson was going to have a different job for her this evening, but I don’t know when.”

“Okay. I’ll deal with her. They probably have a schedule set up on the computer and I’ll find it, or call Joan.” She looked at Elizabeth. “Sit in that chair and wait until I talk to you again. Delia, snap her leash into the hold-down.” After giving those instructions, Laura leaned back in the chair, closed her eyes, and gave all of her attention to the oral sex she was receiving.
Delia left Elizabeth to watch. Elizabeth was sexually aroused by the scene. Both Laura and the slave licking her were attractive women, and the caliber of the oral sex was quite high. Elizabeth found herself getting wet, but figured that she was unlikely to get any licking, and much more likely to be compelled to provide it. It didn’t bother her.

Finally Laura shook, then dismissed the slave. “Go to the gym and work out. You aren’t scheduled to suck until 7PM.”

She looked over at Elizabeth and said, “I’ll get you a bunk. We’ll set it up with a leg chain for now. Your roommates will be in charge of locking you down for the night. Do you have any belongings?”

“The only things that came with me were tennis shoes.”

Laura looked at a shelf at the rear to the room and said, “Those shoes?” She pointed at a pair of shoes on the shelf.

“Yes.”

“We’ll put them on your shelf in your room later. Most white collars that come in have more stuff than that.”

Elizabeth thought, my husband is probably throwing out all my stuff. What she didn’t know is that most of her stuff was either stored in the basement of her old home or sitting in boxes in the dock area of the bar. Joan didn’t feel the need to let her know about it until she was settled in.

Laura continued, as she stood and walked over to release Elizabeth’s leash from the hold-down, “Anyway, you have something else to do now.” She towed Elizabeth over to her chair and sat with her legs wide apart. “Get started.” Elizabeth knelt and started the licking without asking any questions.

Delia walked up to Joan’s room and stuck her head inside. “Hello, boss. Ready for me?”

“Yes. Come in, shut the door, and get started. I decided against handcuffs for you, by the way, as long as you please me.”

Delia smiled and got between Joan’s legs on the bed. This had turned into a ritual for them. Joan appreciated Delia’s style, and Delia didn’t mind doing it. She thought Joan was beautiful and she liked pleasing her. Delia also realized that making Joan happy was in her own best interest. It was a leisurely episode. Delia took half an hour to bring Joan off.

When it was over, Joan stretched and said, “When are you scheduled to be on suck duty?”

“This evening at 6.”

“You can get clothes on and leave the bar until 5, if you like. Go visit Neil and give him a nice present at lunch. You know where he works, right?”

“Yes, I do. Thank you.”

“If you don’t have any other place to go, bring him back here and use your room.”

“Wherever I have to go.” They both laughed, and Delia high-tailed it out of there to go to her room.

Half an hour later, she walked into an office and asked the receptionist to speak with Neil. Delia suspected the receptionist was a slave, but wasn’t sure why she suspected it. The receptionist directed her down a corridor, where she found a cubicle with Neil’s name on the wall. She poked her head in and found him staring at a spreadsheet displayed on a computer monitor. “Hi, honey,” she said.
Neil turned to see her and smiled broadly. “Hi yourself.” He stood and embraced her and kissed her. She melted into it. When it was over, he asked, “How long are you out?”

“Until 5.”

“I can take off now for a long lunch, but I have to be back here. It’s a shame I can’t be with you the whole time you are out. How did you manage to get out?”

“Joan liked what I did with her this morning, and I know she liked what you did with her last night.”

He looked sheepish, and she hugged him and said, “It’s OK. I got a good one last night, too. How many did you get?”

“Three.”

She looked at him and said, “Will you be able to pull a fourth one out of a hat?”

“Yes, but I won’t walk for a week afterward. Come with me.”

They walked out of the office building. He took a brisk pace down the sidewalk, away from Sucker’s. She asked, “If you like, Joan said we could use my room at the bar.”

“No need.”

“What? You want to do it outside in the park?” They were across the street from a nice downtown park that had no place for discreet trysts.

“No, unless that turns you on. This is my apartment building.” He opened the door and escorted her inside and up two flights of stairs, then into a nice apartment with a view of the park.

She asked, “No elevator?”

“There is one, but it is very slow, and I wanted to be in here with you, not inside a creaking metal box.”

“You really want to be inside some other box, don’t you?”

“Yes!”

“Then drag me off to a bed, get my clothes off, and get cracking.”

He led her to a room down a corridor from the living room, opened the door, and bowed for her to enter. He closed the door, then stripped off his clothes as fast as he could.

She wasn’t far behind him. When she was naked, he threw her on the bed and jumped on top of her. After an intense round of kissing and groping, she managed to gasp out, “Condom, please.”

He dragged his body over to the side of the bed and grabbed a box of condoms, ripped one out, and handed it to her. She sat up, unwrapped it, and started to put it on him. He gasped out, “Maybe we should ignore these things and take a pregnancy as a freedom call for you from that bar.”

She had the condom all the way down on his cock. She gasped out, while pulling on his engorged cock to get it to her portal, “Would you accept the slave woman’s child?”

“As my dearest child, yes. To have you with me and to have a child would be great.”

She pulled him to her nether lips and guided him in. “Brave words from someone with no obligation.”

He stopped, cold, and pulled out of her.

“If that’s the way you feel about me, forget it.”

She was shocked. He was inserted into her, then pulled out over a disagreement?

“Please, Neil, please… I need you. I know you would accept a child. I’m still hurting over my previous .. male encounter. Please get back inside me! I need to be with you!”

He looked down at her, then kissed her, hard. She responded. He finally broke off the kiss and said, “Yes, I would accept a child. It seems that you aren’t ready for one, though. That’s OK. We need to establish our relationship further, it appears, and this is one way to help it along.” He pushed his penis against her, and somehow managed to aim it perfectly. He drove down into her in and slapped his torso against hers hard. She gasped, then grabbed him with her arms to keep him close, and wrapped her legs around him. She wasn’t going to let him out this time.

As she expected, the previous night had taken a lot out of him, but he rose to the occasion. It took a long time, and several orgasms for her, but he managed his own orgasm. It was a rather sweaty pair that made a nude trip to the kitchen to warm up leftovers for lunch. As they ate, she asked, “When do you have to be back?”

“I need to be there in 45 minutes. You can stay here as long as you like. When the meeting is over, I’ll rush back here, probably at about 4. Unless you want to go shopping or just look at the world outside the bar, stay here and take a long bath or something.”
She said, “I think I’ll take you up on the bath.” She hesitated, then continued, “I was afraid I was losing you when you stopped in there.”

“It irritated me when you dismissed my statement. I was going to stop the sex and have a discussion, but you mentioned your previous man problems and I realized that experience probably made it hard for you to take important statements as true. That, and those puppy-dog eyes you made, convinced me to go ahead. I’m glad I did.”

“Thank you. We suck a lot of cocks in that bar, and lick each other’s pussies, but most of us don’t get any cock where we want it. On top of that, it was you, who treated me well and wants me. It made me feel bad.”

“Well, don’t worry about it. Eat up; that place keeps you too skinny.”

“I like my figure, thank you very much. I limit my eating and work out a lot. Why do you say I’m too skinny?”

“Well, usually when a man says a woman is too skinny, he’s complimenting her on looking good.” Neil was furiously backpedalling.

She smiled. “Got ya. Thanks for noticing. I will eat up; the food isn’t bad at the bar, but it doesn’t vary much, and these leftovers are a great break.”

When they were done eating, Neil went to dress, and Delia followed him. He finished, gave her a long kiss and groped her breasts, and said, “I’ll be back around 4. There are some bath things in the bathroom closet that you might like, a present for a girl that I ended up not giving her. I hope it’s still good. Damn, I hate needing to go to that meeting.”

“Go. You need to have a good job to support me in the way I hope to become accustomed to.”

They kissed again, and he left. She locked the deadbolt behind him, then went in search of that bath.

George Johnson called his house slave, Penelope. “Hi. I’m bringing someone from the bar to help you serve dinner tonight.”

“Yes, sir.”

“She will be nude and wearing a helmet that covers everything but her eyes. I don’t want our guests figuring out who she is, at least not right away. You might recognize her, too.”

“Who is she, master?”

He didn’t require her to call him ‘master’, but it gave him a kick when she did it, and she knew it. “I won’t tell you. We’ll see how good the hood is at hiding her identity. You’ll be interacting with her, so you have a better chance. The guests may wonder why she’s hooded, but won’t have the clue I gave you. After dinner, we will withdraw as usual, and you and your assistant can eat and clean up, and you can have her for the night. Chain her when you might fall asleep; I’m not sure she won’t try to take off.”

“Yes, master. Who will be your swap slave?”

“You haven’t met her. She’s a waitress named Allison.”

“Oh, I have met her. She was the waitress for several of the sucks I did at the bar for your experiment. She’s gorgeous.”

“That she is. Billy will enjoy her, as I will enjoy Pamela.”

After he hung up, he saw Joan walk into the office. He called out to her. “Joan, come on in and sit down. We need to go over the latest financials.”

She walked in and sat. He noticed the smile on her face and the air of relaxation, and said, “You got yourself some, didn’t you?”

“Just a female tongue. After she was done, I let Delia out for the afternoon. Elizabeth is scheduled to suck from two to four, when you said you wanted to go home. Allison will be dressed then, and I told her that she can be in charge of getting the helmet on Elizabeth.”

“When should we tell Delia about her promotion?”

“I’m not sure. We can always use another good green-collar. The way you promoted Louise was fun, but it scared her half to death.”

“Yes, promotions should be fun. They are a reward. Well, think of something. Maybe her boyfriend could come in and announce it.”

“And screw her in front of the assembled slaves.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Or you could.”

“That might be fun, but it might not be a reward as far as she is concerned.”

“Delia? Once she got over the nudity, she has shown herself to be brazen. If it involves being fucked, she’ll be first in line to volunteer.”

“Well, think something up that she will enjoy and that won’t make her father or boyfriend mad.”

“OK. On other topics, how long are you going to sit on your new, high-priced acquisitions before starting to make money with them?”
“How is Doris coming along?”

“She has calmed down a lot, but she hasn’t turned the corner into being a proper slave. Continual punishment and discomfort are taking a lot of time to get there. I don’t have the time to deal with her as much as she needs. I think we need outside help on this one.”

“All right, you choose someone and get things going. How is Cherise?”

“We could have started using her as a sucker the first day she was here. She has been working with Louise and set up classes where they work with small numbers of suckers. The first class was better white-collars, and their satisfaction ratings went up. Then they tried it on the lowest-rated white collars, and now most of them are almost as good as the first group. They finished up the white-collars, then went on to black collars. They started with two classes of the best suckers and produced some amazing results. They are continuing to work with the black collar groups and we hope to have all of them through Suck School in the next couple of weeks. Customers are already noticing that sucks are better, and my biggest worry is that someone will get a few good suckers, then someone who hasn’t been through the class yet.”

“That’s a problem, but it’s a problem I like having, instead of unsatisfied customers. So, should we start her sucking without Doris?”

“Once people find out she’s here, we will be getting bugged about Doris. I suggest we just say ‘no comment.’ The only question is whether we advertise or just let word-of-mouth ramp up first.”

“Let’s try word-of-mouth. When the press gets it, we will get plenty of free advertising for a couple of days, and then we can put it in some ads. We do need to get Doris on board soon.”

“OK, tonight, Cherise starts to suck.”

“No, wait until tomorrow. I’m out tonight, and I want to be here to watch the first night.”

“What about sex school teaching?”

“Not until our suckers are all trained. Let’s be careful who we let them teach, too; no other suck bars near here.”

“OK, boss. On the financials, you will see that sales are up. All categories are up: bar, sucks, food, punishment, rental. We are up when almost everything else, including the other suck bars in town, is down. We must be doing something right. Informal polling of customers tells us that they like the service, the drinks, the atmosphere, the women. Our customers like that the women smile and are upbeat, as opposed to most other suck bars where they are bedraggled and sullen. Maybe some people are drawn to darker atmospheres, but we are picking up those with lighter hearts and thicker wallets.”

The financial dissection that followed could have been bottled and used as a sleep aid.

(Continuing Straight on from ‘The Running‘)

I got back to the courtyard as the end of the maze nearest the pool had been cleared and the MC’s little podium had been moved to the side, near the row of whipping posts.   Earnestine - and her owners - were nowhere to be seen, but the crowd was gathering again near that end of the courtyard.

I wasn’t paying too much attention as I wondered along with them.   Noreen’s reaction to the first event was troubling.   As far as I could remember it was the first time she’d actually asked me for anything, and gone so far as to impose on the supposed debt of a promised reward.   Sending her home was the right decision, I thought, along with the implicit promise that I wouldn’t partake of the meal.   The question was, whether I had gone far enough?

The MC broke me out of my revere as he cracked a whip over our heads.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!   While we give Earnestine a brief respite - in order to catch her breath - it is my very great pleasure to introduce to you our master leatherman, our artiste with the crop, Henri Avignon!”

A tallish man came out of the end of the building at the far side of the pool, trailed by five slaves.   He was dressed in the same smart casual as the MC and some of the other staff members.   The slaves, nude save for their collars and scars, were each carrying a different style of whip or flogger.   They were all relatively well marked, although I didn’t recognise either of the two who’d taken part in the first event.

They followed Avignon in a procession across the courtyard, one stopping at each of the five whipping posts, where they placed their implement on the ground, and were locked into shackles hanging from the top of the post.

“Mesdames et Monsieur’s,” he started in a moderately strong French accent.   “For this brief interlude, I shall demonstrate the proper - ze artistic - use of some of the minor tools here. Oui, oui, I know most of you already know how to use them, but we have some new friends here, and even the best of you can learn some new tricks, no?   Frankly, Madam Winters, your technique has gotten stale.   I should add you to my dolls here, to remind you what a good whipping is.   But No!   We shall save that for another time.”

He paused to allow the light laughter to die out, while a tall blonde in a dress suit waggled her finger at him.

“Zis is Sophia,” he said as he stepped to the first of his ‘dolls’, who was facing us, “And zis is a riding crop.” as he bent down to pick up the implement.   “It is ze basic tool of the slave owner, used both for guidance, and for correction.   It is painful, oui, but does little serious damage.   As such, it can be used with impunity on the sensitive parts of a slave, such as the nipples and the clitoris.”   He struck her strongly on each nipple to emphasise the point and then waited as she lifted her right leg in a standing split.   She managed to catch her heel behind her wrist just as he unloaded on her clitoris.   She gasped, but managed to hold the position until he motioned her down.   “It is also light enough that you can make ze amusing patterns with it.   Turn around my cherie.”   He laid down a rapid flurry of strokes on her back, and then stood aside to reveal a stylised, but recognisable Fleur de Lys.

He bowed slightly to the applause, then waved it down and moved along the line of posts.   “Now we come to Mercy, and her leather strap.”   The strap he picked up looked to be about six inches wide and half an inch thick.   “This tool, also is painful for ze recipient, and does not do too much damage to the skin.   It is wide enough to spread the impact out, you see.   It is much heavier, of course, and so, it can leave deep bruising that will take days to fade.   Ze trick is to overlap your blows, so that the damage compounds.”   He looked at the strap.   “With a fifteen centimetre strap like this one a skilled user can get fifteen strokes in side the mark of the first.”

“How many have you done?” someone heckled from the audience.

Avignon gave a very Gallic shrug.   “Thirty-two.   Ah Rachel, Cherie.   I do hope you let me help in your Grand Finale.”

“Like fuck!” called a voice from the back.   “If I’m going to spend that long letting you paddle my ass, I want to be around afterward to appreciate it.”   Rachel, the Doll who’d helped chase Earnie came through the crowd to kiss the Frenchman on the cheek.   “I literally couldn’t sit for a week.”

He shrugged again as everyone chuckled.   “So crass.   You can see why she needed to be ‘paddled’, as she says, no?   One last thing about this strap.   It can damage the soft tissues, so it is safest not to use it on the stomach, or around the kidneys.   Unless you wish to cause such damage, of course. Now cherie, you will help me with young Mercy here, oui?   Count my strokes, and make sure that I stay within the first mark.”

He laid his first stroke across the top of her ass, and then proceeded to lay eleven further strips before Rachel announced that he’s gone outside the first.   Mercy yelled and jiggled in place with each one, but didn’t break her basic position

He shook his head sadly.   “A poor effort.   You have upset me, cherie.   Shall we try again?”   Everyone laughed at Mercy’s groan.   “Non,” he said smiling.   “Mercy is her name, and mercy she shall have.   Let us move on.”

I watched rapt as he went on to describe the characteristics of the cane, the full sized maritime cat’o'nine tails and the single-tailed stock whip.   I’d started on my own torture slave with the crop and the cane and had picked up some of the technique from my reading, but this was a master at work, enjoying his work.

Once he was finished he announced that there would be a brief opportunity for members of the audience to try out the tools he’s demonstrated.

I quickly stepped to the queue for the strap.   So far I’d focused on causing my Traci - my Debbie, rather - intense pain, rather than anything long lasting.   I’d obviously not been completely aware of the possibilities short of permanent injury.

When my turn came, I took the strap from the previous guest and hefted it gently.

“Ah, le sinistre.”   I jumped to find Avignon standing beside me.   “Bien, it will do her good to have some balance.”

I looked from the strap to Mercy’s backside and back.   Given that the strap was a foot and a half long, I couldn’t see any sign that one side had received any less punishment than the other.

“Monsieur Avignon,” I started, wondering, “What would be the effect if I were to, say, whip only one thigh with this strap?”

“Ah?   You like the asymmetry?   Like ze Picasso abstracts, oui?   This is not really the position - it is best if you isolate the target you want.   Hmmm.   If you do it well, the bruising is like a pulled muscle, yes?   It restricts movement, and she cannot put the weight on it when she sits.   She will lean, to put her weight on the other side.   Mercy, turn around, and give the master your left foot.   If you would hold it level, monsieur, at about waist height.”

With me holding her leg out straight, he struck her evenly down the thigh about ten times, with a little bit of overlap each time.   They weren’t gentle blows - as well as feeling the weight through her foot, I watched her knee lock up each time.

“Like that, two or three times.   Better if you hit the muscle down the back directly.   Watch her this afternoon, but it might be the knee rather than the thigh.”   With that he handed me the strap and headed off to the next post.

Likewise, I handed the strap over to the next person in line and went in the other direction; to watch the tall blonde - Mistress Winters - offer advice to another woman on the use of the crop.

A little while later, the MC rapped sharply on his microphone.   “If I could have your attention, please!”

When he had all eyes - and staff members were letting the Dolls down from their posts - he continued: “It is now time to welcome Earnestine back to Center stage.   For this part of the festivities, we like to prepare our stars for their final showing.   After tenderisation, we need to season our star.   Henri will assist us in that process by applying his delicate touch to her skin, and then our hosts will baste her in our own special blend of herbs and spices, and letting them soak in.”

As he spoke, Earnestine was wheeled out to the area of the whipping posts.   She was stretched tightly between the corners of a vertical frame that was cleverly designed so as to be able to rotate in both the vertical and horizontal axes:   Earnie could be spun backward, forward and even upside down.   From what I’d seen of Henri’s work he wouldn’t bother.   He would just make the tip of any whip he chose curl around and hit whatever part of her he wanted.

Cov and Hun escorted her out, and greeted Avignon surprisingly formally, both bowing as they presented their slave to him.

The Doll Rachel brought out a wooden case, and some of the audience members sighed reverently as he opened it and withdrew a long single tailed whip.

“For those of you who haven’t seen her before,” the MC ‘whispered’ over the public address system, “that is an eighteen foot bullwhip that Henri has named Marie, after both the French noblewoman Marie Antoinette, and the first woman he ever killed with it.   It has a reputation here at the Faded Lotus of being capable of the most exquisite pain, and the most stunning artwork.   Many of the Dolls here today have had their major patterns created by Marie.”

Henri finished shaking the whip out and swung it gently a couple of times to make sure he had room.   He bowed briefly to the Hosts and then began.

It was a virtuoso performance.

He started at the extremities: Clever bindings presented both her palms and the soles of her feet and he hit all four with the first four blows, leaving bleeding welts.   The fifth, he placed around her right side, just below the ribs, the popping tip leaving a gash under her left breast.

Earnestine shrieked with each blow, and gasped between.   Cov and Hun looked satisfied as they watched, expressions very like those I’d seen the night before as they tormented their slave.

Back to the outside, now, and Henri laid three welts around the bound woman’s calves and forearms before stopping.

One of the staff members ran up to Earnie during the pause and quickly checked her pulse and responses before injecting a hypodermic of something into a shunt taped to the side of her neck.

I was surprised - I would have thought that this place wouldn’t ’shoot up’ its meat, that they’d insist on her stewing purely in her own juices - Organic Slave Meat, so to speak.

I mush have been obvious in my surprise because a quiet voice beside me said “It’s a mixture of adrenaline, stimulants, some other anti-shock compounds and a nasty little nerve toxin.”

I looked and saw the tall blonde I’d noticed earlier, one of the obvious regulars.   I nodded for her to go on.

“Generally, it keeps you awake, alert and responsive.   There’s little point in whipping a woman who has passed out, after all,” She explained.   “The nerve toxin is an added extra.   I’m told it increases the sensitivity of the pain receptors.   Greatly.”

“Ah,” I said, intelligently.   “George Page,” I added, holding my hand out.

“Claire Winters.   That was your slave with the runners, wasn’t it?”

“Noreen. yes.   I’m afraid that was a bit much for her though, so I sent her home.”

The eyebrow she raised made me feel about two inches tall, because I couldn’t manage my slaves.   “She’s new,” I added defensively, “and I didn’t want to make a scene.”

Winters nodded knowingly and looked back toward where Avignon was getting ready to continue.

He started with a shot at her thigh that clearly wrapped right around, causing Earnie to howl piteously.   This time he went around in a circle, slowly spiraling inward toward her body.   Earnestine never really got a chance to catch her breath, each new mark would cause her breath to hitch and then she’d howl again.

I though back over what little I knew of biochemistry.   It wasn’t enough, but that shit they’d shot her up with must be something really awful.

Another pause, and another hypodermic, and Henri went on to the body, laying a cris-cross pattern across her back - the first time he’d crossed his strokes - that bled at every intersection.   Left to heal, I was sure that they would leave terrible scars - scars much like those on the various ‘Dolls’ that were watching, and moving through the guests.

After the back, he added half a dozen or so rings around her waist, and then he got fancy.

With a combination of backhand and forehand strokes, he snapped the tip of the whip around Earnestine’s front to the applauded approval of the people watching on that side.   I looked, later, and he’d laid those strokes blind, right up and down the valley of her cleavage, without touching her breasts proper.

The last three strokes were the most skillful.   One choked off her howls as it wrapped itself around her neck, incidentally tearing out the shunt, and the others laid open the skin of her face, across the cheekbones and just touching her nose.

Everyone applauded, and Avignon bowed as he coiled his ‘Marie’ and placed her reverently bank in her case.

When he was finished, and two of the Dolls ceremoniously carried the case back into the building, the MC returned to his stand.

“Now that she has been prepared, it is time to baste our star, and once again, our Hosts have graciously allowed us to share that with you.   Please, form a queue, so that everyone who wants one gets a chance to help apply our special blend.”

I managed to get into the line near the front, so I was able to get to Earnestine before she was too splattered with the strong smelling paste.   Heavy on both the spices and the garlic, I decided.   I felt eyes on the back of my neck, and looked over to see Mistress Winters whispering to Cov, while the two hosts watched me.

On impulse, and to show that cow Winters something, I forewent the brushes everyone else was using and scooped up a small handful of the mess. and rubbed it into the side of her neck and jaw.   She flinched away from me and whimpered, an animal look of hurt in her eyes.

I was surprised how level we were.   I’m not an overly tall man, but even stretched in the frame our heads were at the same height.   That made it easy to cup her chin and cheek and murmur ‘Tina’ before I had to move on.   I fancied saw a glimpse of awareness return, just as I turned away.

“I, too, was a friend of Jamis,” I whispered as I approached the slaves holding towels.   Aware that Winters and co were still watching, I waved away the towel and beckoned to one of the slaves instead.

“Come with me and lick this clean,” I ordered as I wandered over toward the hosts.

Joan was in the office late in the evening after Mr. Johnson had gone to fuck Elizabeth in the Fuck Room. As she worked, she found herself thinking about being in there with him, and she realized she was getting the chair she was sitting on wet.
She looked up when someone walked into the office. It was Neil, Delia’s boyfriend.
“Hello, Joan. I was thinking about you and the price I needed to pay for your delivery service. Thank you for giving her the card.”
Joan smiled at him and stood up. “I’m glad you came by. I’m feeling very horny tonight. Mr. Johnson took a new slave and Delia to the Fuck Room, so I’m not getting any action.”
“A girl like you shouldn’t have any problem finding companionship.”
“I don’t, but he’s out of town.”
“Well, then, it’s my lucky night.”
She rose and took him by the arm. “Come with me and we’ll find out. Aren’t you bothered that Delia is in with Mr. Johnson?”
“I’ll admit that I would rather be with her, but that’s the way it is and I knew it going in. On top of that, I have a companion for the night that makes up for it.”
She led him to the Service Room. “This isn’t as nice as the Fuck Room, but the bed is good, and there is plenty of equipment in the cabinet.” She helped him with his clothing, then hung it up while he looked in the cabinet.
“This is all bondage gear. You want to be bound?”
“That’s up to you. You’re the man. I’m the slave. I want sex. I like bondage.”
“You barely know me. Aren’t you afraid that I might go too far?”
“You are related in some way to John Thompson, and Delia trusts you. That’s good enough for me.” She sat on the bed and looked at him expectantly. She didn’t tell him about the surveillance system and how the security office would be watching. She wanted the tape they were almost certainly making of this for her.
He looked at her and appreciated her beauty. He considered just taking her without bondage, but decided that a woman that likes bondage should be provided with bondage. He was a newbie at bondage, and he knew it, so he decided to try something simple. He found leather cuffs and locks, then took them to the bed and fitted them on her wrists and locked them on. he had her lie down and locked the cuffs to chains from the upper corners of the bed. As an afterthought, he locked a chain from the headboard to the leash loop of her collar. He looked her over, then removed the belt she wore that had keyrings and handcuffs attached to it. He cuddled in next to her body and ran his hand over her breasts. She shivered as he toyed with her nipples.
“You like the simple bondage?” she asked, shivering a little more as his hand drifted lower.
“I’m just getting started at it, so I’m not getting fancy.”
“That’s good. I like to use my legs, too.”
He reached her labia and stroked the inside of the outer lips. She gasped as he took long, slow strokes, staying away from her clitoris, and teasing her slowly. She wanted him to speed up, to rub her clitoris, to bring her to orgasm, but she also was glad he had bound her so she was unable to interfere with his slow teasing. He kept up the strokes, occasionally visiting the entrance to her vagina to harvest a little lubrication. When he finally circled her nub, she shuddered. It was very close to an orgasm, but it didn’t take her where she wanted to be. He backed away, approached again, and kept up the teasing for what she thought was an eternity. When he finally rubbed her clitoris directly, she groaned loudly.
“That’s where you wanted me to get to, isn’t it?”
“Yesssssss……”
He played with her lightly, then withdrew his hand. She moaned in frustration until she saw that he was lining himself up for penetration. “Condom, please…” she managed to gasp out. He smiled, then looked around and saw the box of condoms on a bedside table. He retrieved one and put it on, then started a slow rubbing of her clitoris again. She started bucking against his hand. He stopped and lined up again, then drove himself into her. It went all the way in in one smooth stroke.
“It seems like you were ready for this.”
She didn’t speak; she just pressed up against him and clenched her vaginal muscles. He started a long slow stroke that she knew was meant to keep him from climax as long as possible. He moved to press his pubic bone against her clitoris, which gave her a great deal of pleasure. She pushed back at his thrusts and contracted her vaginal muscles every time he bottomed out inside her. Time lost its meaning to her as she let the pleasure flow over her and she abandoned awareness of the rest of the world. He finally sped up his thrusts, then came. He lay still on top of her, breathing heavily. He finally said, “Are you OK?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for the wild ride.”
He kissed her and said, “Thank you.” He remained still until his cock softened enough to fall out of her. He rose, discarded the condom, and unlocked the wrist cuffs and removed them. He left the chain to her collar locked on, and put the key on the restraints cabinet, well out of her reach. He lay down next to her and said, “Is this an all-night event, or just for the recent festivities?”
She smiled at him and said, “It seems you want all night, given that I’m locked to the bed and you put the key out of reach.”
“Yes, you are chained here, and I want you to stay here, but I will defer to your wishes if you want to be let loose. You are a slave, but you aren’t my slave, and you invited me.”
“Don’t let me loose. Please feel free to wake me up at any time and use me again.” She snuggled up to him. “Did you like the sex?”
“I loved it. You participated and wanted it.”
“I like sex. I like my boyfriend’s sex, and Mr. Johnson’s, but yours is special too. My boyfriend likes Delia’s sex, too. Maybe we can arrange to meet as couples and swap from time to time.”
He was astounded. Joan was just as good-looking and good at sex as Delia, and he had been happy when she said that the price of getting information to Delia was sex with her, but this was beyond his wildest expectations. He realized that he was thinking like she was a free woman, but then he realized that he had been treating her like a free woman, regardless of the chains (she had asked for those). “I would like that. I wonder if Delia would mind.”
“She’s your slave, and she likes my boyfriend.”
“Well, she isn’t my slave, at least not yet. Her father, and owner, told her to obey me, though.”
“I think she will be fine with it. She’s almost as horny as I am, and she is beginning to get the slave mindset.”
“Well, we’ll deal with that when the time comes. Right now, you’ve worn me out, and I need some sleep.” He pulled the sheet up over them, cuddled up to her tightly, put his hand on her breast, and fell asleep.
About three in the morning, Joan woke from a light sleep to find Neil playing with her pudenda again. She pressed herself against his hand. He said, “So you do want to do it again.”
“I told you to wake me up any time and use me again.”
“Then grab a condom and let’s get going.”
Joan took a condom from the box and with well-practiced dexterity rolled it over his erect member, then lay flat. Neil rolled over her and pressed himself in slowly, with her hand guiding him in. This sex was much faster and more energetic than the first, but took almost as long. Joan came twice. When he shuddered and stopped moving, she held him to her tightly, keeping him inside her. After he softened and fell out, she said, “Thank you, master. Thank you for using me.”
He rolled off of her and held her, then said, “I’m not your master.”
“While you have me locked down and at your disposal, you are my master. Thank you for using me.”
He was taken aback by her words. “Why do you say ‘using me’?”
“Because that’s what you are doing. You are also making it good for me. It’s a slave thing. You may not think of it that way when you use Delia, but I’m pretty sure that’s what she thinks.”
“So I should stop?”
“Of course not! I liked you using me, and I’m sure Delia does. You can think of it as ‘making love’ or ‘having sex,’ and it’s good that you do and take the slave’s feelings into account.”
“And what if I marry her?”
“A slave wife is still a slave, and can’t say no and have it stick. I know this upsets you, but it is part of being a slave. She became a slave because of bad decisions. I became a slave to protect myself by getting a protected situation. Either way, we are slaves. We appreciate good treatment and we like being used in a pleasant manner. Please, keep doing it.”
Neil lapsed into silence. Joan pulled the sheet up over them, cuddled up to him tightly, and they soon fell asleep.
In the morning, about 7 AM, Neil woke up. Joan woke as he sat up. He rose and got the key to her neck chain, then unlocked her. He lay back down on the bed and said, “You are free to go, unless you want to take care of this.” He motioned to his erection. Joan smiled, reached for the chain, locked it back onto her collar, then put a condom on him and sat down on the erection and proceeded to ride him. It was a fast and furious fuck. He rubbed her clitoris while she bucked up and down on his penis. She came first, but kept up the furious motion until he came. He reached up and pulled her down to him and kissed her hard. She melted into the kiss and kept it up.
When the kiss ended, she lay next to him and said, “See? I appreciate a good fucking. Thank you.”
“You are welcome. I don’t know if I will be able to walk today,” said Neil. It was only a little facetious.
After a few minutes of cuddling, he rose again and unlocked Joan from the chain. He started to dress and said, “I have to go home, shower, and change, so I can get to work.”
She said, “You can shower here, with me, in the red-collar shower room.”
“That would be nice, but I have to change into clean clothes, too, and I’m short on time. Maybe next time I’ll bring clean clothes with me.”
She hugged him and said, “That’s a great idea, having a next time. Next time you come here, though, I want you to use Delia. She deserves it. Like I said before, I want you again, too.”

CASTLEMAN TRUST CHAPTER 56 - CANADIAN CHRISTMAS PRESENTS

Peter J. Foster

December 24th fell on a Monday in 2001. I wanted to go to Ellisia for Christmas. I was there with a plane load of slaves. The slave work force compound had been expanded, winterized and all the other contracts had been absorbed by DEV. There was an odd incentive for the slave workers—the top worker of the week would get used by me for sex. The top worker of the month would get a weekend with me where ever I was. Stocking up on vitamins seemed like a good idea.

Speaking of having to stock up on vitamins, Ambassador Woulfe parked his wife and six daughters with me. The ros