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THE CONTINUED EROTIC ADVENTURES OF SLAVE KALA:
BEACH MANSION- PART 2: THE PARTY
We spent that night in his bed, not the bed he usually slept in when he was at his island retreat, but the humongous playroom bed big enough for ten; just the Thorns and I.
His wife, 7 years his younger at 51, still had a tight firm body, helped a little with just a couple small surgeries (butt and breasts, and possibly her eyebrows of all things). I fell asleep cradled by the pair of them, Elsie’s firm breasts with the wide soft nipples pressing warmly, two points of heat against my back. Her vulva gently cradling my ass, breathing moist warmth, as I cuddled into Mr. Thorn’s chest, my head resting on his shoulder (that’s how I woke up too).
For his amusement, Daniel decided I’d spend the night in the monoglove, uncaring of how sore I’d be in the morning, so it was I woke, cradled in their embrace, arms numb and insentient against my back. They were sleeping, so I remained as still and quiet as possible, time passed, a quarter hour, I saw light seeping in from the edges of the drawn curtains over the wall length floor to ceiling windows in the east wall; the dawn came. Mr. Thorn opened his eyes, I smiled at him, he smiled back.
A whisper, “awake are you?”
“Yes sir,” I breathed back to him.
He shifted slowly, rolling to his back, trying not to wake his wife; he lowered the blue silk bedspread around his hips. The beginning of summer, it was warm enough to sleep naked without bedsheets at all (we all slept in the nude) I remained still, I couldn’t possibly move around without waking his wife. He leaned in and kissed me lightly, I wanted him to give me tongue but he didn’t.
“How do your arms feel?”
“They’re numb sir, they’ll hurt when the glove comes off.”
We whispered, but Elsie murmured sleepily, “I’m awake.”
“Hello my love.” Thorn greeted her in a normal volume, leaning over me, crushing me against the bed.
He kissed her, deeply passionately; her hands gently clenched on my belly as he did. They parted, and I rolled onto my back. Elsie sat up, leaning against the headboard, letting the sheets fall around her waist, Thorn too sat up but, being bound, I couldn’t. There was no clock in the room, but Daniel glanced at the bright crack lining the curtains, he opened his mouth.
Three sharp raps sounded on the same door I’d come through twice before, it led to his office; there was a short pause, but the knocker didn’t expect an invitation. The door opened and Lizibeth in her servant livery reminiscent of a French maid outfit, came in holding a tray. Two naked slaves followed her in, one was my new acquaintance Xo, the other I had met only briefly yesterday, and I knew like Xo her ass had a temporary ink tattoo: SLAVE MARTHA. Both of them also held trays.
Lizibeth led the way to the bed, “breakfast sir.” Practiced curtsy made awkward by the armful.
“Excellent Lizibeth.”
Lizibeth had to lean far over the bed (wide enough for ten) to set the little tray with its legs, down across Mr. Thorn’s lap; I could see he had a bulging omelet, and a cup of coffee. Xo rounded the other side of the bed and brought Elsie her breakfast, two eggs sunny-side up three strips of bacon and hash browns. Martha crawled onto the bed to bring what was evidently supposed to be mine, but she stopped unsure, when she noticed I was stuck on my back with my arms bound behind me. Lizibeth looked at Thorn, who smiled at her and nodded.
She spoke crisply, knowing what was to be done, used to command, “Martha help Kala sit up, then feed her.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Martha set my tray down on the huge bed, crawling forward. She first slid the covers down past my hips, she took me under the arms I pushing with my legs. We managed to get me sitting up against the headboard like the Thorns, who flanked me with feet between us and still plenty of space on the bed.
Xo stood on one side of the bed, near Elsie, head lowered; she had her hands clasped behind her back, silently waiting for further instructions; I knew she was on probation. Martha drew my coverings back up to my navel, smoothing them so they lay flat, then she retrieved my tray, heaped with food, I figured it was Lizibeth’s doing, part taunt, part thank you.
I had three eggs, over easy as I liked them (I found out later she called my Owner and asked), three strips of bacon and three pieces of sausage, a pile of hash-browns and two pieces of toast cut in half and slathered with raspberry jam, again which I liked.
Mr. Thorn swallowed as he looked my tray over, “you don’t have to eat it all slave.”
We shared a smile, he was teasing me. I’d been punished for asking for food.
“I’ll eat it sir, but…coffee?”
He took a sip of his own coffee, “hmmm, I don’t usually give slaves coffee.”
“Please sir, I need coffee,” submissive, non defiant.
“You do, do you?”
“Yes sir, I’m a caffeine freak.”
He thought for a moment, eating, he shrugged.
“Fetch a cup of coffee.” Elsie told Xo, who immediately left.
Martha kneeling beside me began feeding me, small bites slipping from the fork solicitously, submissively into my mouth. I could tell she delighted, like me, in serving the will of another; I ate ravenously. Thorn and Lizibeth chatted, inconsequential little things about the party to be held tonight, the paid liveried servant didn’t seem the least bothered that her employer was nude; only a blanket covering him. I could tell this was regular, extra slaves littering the property or not. Xo took a long time to return, I had been fed half my plate when she finally did, bearing a steaming cup of coffee, Lizibeth looked at her hard with a little frown. Xo climbed up on the bed and started to gently feed me coffee.
“That took at least twice as long as it should have.”
Everyone looked at Lizibeth, Xo apprehensive.
Mr. Thorn spoke, “is this the one you’ve mentioned before, Lizibeth?”
She curtsied, “yes sir. She’s lazy, very lazy, she works slow and sloppy, she doesn’t have to do anything at home.”
He frowned; his wife spoke firmly, “Xo.”
Xo looked at her as trembling fingers gently offered me more coffee, I slurped, hoping to ease tension but I was ignored.
“What took you so long?”
“I went to the kitchen and came right back, mistress.”
“You’ve been warned haven’t you, lectured, punished?”
Xo whispered, “Yes.”
Mr. Thorn took up, “and even when you’re performing in front of the man who brought you here, you can’t manage to be quick or efficient. Do you want to go home, is that why you’re behaving this way?”
“No sir,” Xo whimpered, “I want to stay, my master told me to behave, I’m - I’m trying.”
“You’re not trying hard enough, this party is important to me.”
“I’ll do better sir, please, let me stay.”
Martha and I were still, quiet, Xo looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
His wife caught the naked slave’s attention again. “It was explained to you yesterday, wasn’t it, the third, or fourth,” she looked at Lizibeth who nodded firmly, “the fourth time you were punished, how important improving your behavior was.” Elsie sighed, looked at her husband.
Everyone looked at him, it was clear he was mulling, about to render a decision.
“Please, I’ll do better, let me stay?” Xo begged.
Thorn shook his head, “not good enough this time, Lizibeth told me that was your response after the last caning; no, you’re going home, your master can punish you I haven’t the time this weekend.”
Xo gave a strangled sob. Thorn continued calmly relentlessly, “I’m going to have you bound with neat red ribbon, into a nice little package. I’ll write a note explaining to your master, and we’ll ship you off to him.”
“Please.”
He spoke sharply, “no! You’re going home Xo, you can explain and excuse to your master.” He calmed quickly, explaining in a fatherly manner, as if to a child, “the party tonight is important to me, and I don’t want anything to mar it. I’m sending you in the first chopper picking up guests, your master will be expecting you. Now,” he pointed, “go lock yourself into that cage, crouch and press your lips to its floor.”
The cage he pointed at was about 6-feet high and 3 feet to a side. Sobbing softly, looking miserable, Xo handed my coffee to Martha and crept off to the cage. Mr. Thorn looked to his wife, she nodded, rose wearing nothing but her collar and brand. She approached the crouching Xo and took up a black silk cloth hanging nearby; she settled this over the cage, leaving Xo to sob in darkness.
For a moment all was silent as Martha fed me more food and coffee.
Lizibeth broke the silence, “well sir, anything changed today?”
He threw back the sheet and rose before his clothed servant as he spoke, “no Lizibeth, you know what to do, I think breakfast is over, free Kala and let her perform her morning toilet, then put her to work. Robe.”
As if she did it every day (maybe she did, his wife didn’t take it amiss) Lizibeth plucked up the red silk robe he’d worn yesterday from the floor. She moved behind him and slipped it on, moved back in front; making no attempt to look at his penis, but none to avoid looking at it either, the hired servant tied the sash of his robe.
Meanwhile Martha was freeing me of the monoglove, and tingling sensations rushed up and down my arms, Xo’s punishments made me think of the two nearly back to back, I’d received yesterday.
CHAPTER 3
We were stretched out side by side on the big bed, he gently stroked my breasts and belly, occasionally tugging gently on the clamps around my nipples and belly button, making me tremble; we rested silently for several minutes. He reached up to tap on the armature of the earring pressing a plastic ball gently against my inner ear canal, the sensation making me shiver.
A gentle question, “so, time for your punishment?”
I sighed, but I’d earned it, even though he’d forced me to earn it, “yes sir.”
“Such a good girl you are,” he grinned at me, “I’ve already told you, your punishment is going to be gentle, and it will have two parts. First, I’m just going to give you a little spanking, nothing much I think a couple dozen strokes with the belt will be enough. Second though, well you’re such a refined little thing, I’m sure this will have a big emotional impact; the second half of your punishment is, I’m placing just one single constraint upon your regained right to speak.”
I felt a flutter in my belly that had nothing to do with the weird little black disk clamp tugging on my button. I nodded weakly the tiny centimeter the strap mask allowed, “Yes sir?”
“Good Kala,” he whispered, and then louder, “you may speak freely Kala, except you may not, in any way, request food.”
It was early afternoon now, I was starving, and I’d only a light airplane meal before dawn.
“Another double bind sir?” I asked tremulously, showing my surrender to his will in my voice, with the little arching of my body.
He grinned, and chucked me under the chin, “quick girl.”
I grinned back at him.
“So, ready for your spanking?”
I nodded, “yes sir.”
“Come on,” he helped me sit up, to climb off the bed.
He bent and plucked up the evil little plastic pleasure rings on their metal armatures lying on the floor, I shuddered as he grinned at me.
I begged, “Not that again?”
“Kala, Kala, it’s alright, you are perfectly free to orgasm as many times as you wish.”
It was a blessing, the rings drove me wild.
I smiled, grateful, “thank you sir.”
He grinned and knelt before me, I spread my legs, bracing them wide apart before he could ask me to. I stood on the tips of my toes, the leather knee high boots with 7-inch heels making my feet arc painfully back on themselves. Little loops of leather inside bound my big toes up against the tip, affecting my balance terribly, a few minutes standing and my feet would ache again. He attached the rings to the leather straps curling around my thighs, fitting the rings back in place over my stamen, tightening them again so every little movement made the plastic rings grip and rub me, sending delicious shudders of uncontrollable pleasure through me. I’d just cum again and again and again…I felt moisture between my legs.
As he led me across the thick piled red carpet, I felt all the little bondage toys again pulling at me. The strap corset constricting my breathing was making me dizzy as I moved, physical exertion was beyond me while I wore it; at the same time it seemed to cradle me protectively, holding me up. The strap mask held my head firmly in place, allowing me to move it only a very little, blinders attached to it restricted my vision to a tunnel so I could see only what I faced. I felt the little metal bit pressed against the underside of my nose, my nostrils pinched closed with leather straps so I could only breathe through my mouth.
Weighted clamps pulled on my nipples, more serrated clamps bit painfully at the sensitive flesh of my armpits, and a weird little disk clamp tugged at my belly button. Earrings pressed into my inner ears, causing weird sensations as I moved and they brushed against my inner ear, the monoglove held my arms tight against my back, and a large thick rubber plug filled my anus.
The butt-plug aided the rings in doing their job and the other toys didn’t help either. As I moved, I felt the plastic rings rubbing against me; a horny little nympho, I felt myself responding despite recent repeated orgasms, I couldn’t hold out long, soon I’d cum, jerking, ejaculating right into the air.
He led me (glorious friction from the rings as I walked) to one of the ropes dangling from a hook in the ceiling, maneuvering me so I stood with my back to it, behind me I also couldn’t see him. I felt him fumbling with my bound hands, the glove holding them backs touching palms outward; he tied the rope around my wrists, firmly wrapping it around the glove. His hand came up, gripped me gently but firmly by the back of the neck.
Gentle pressure, “bend over Kala.”
I bent over, ass thrusting out, breasts dangling in their little half cups, arms raised high over my back.
He moved silently across the thick carpet, I didn’t even realize he moved until (deducing it later) I heard a sound, the rope raised as he tugged on its other end and I was forced to lift my arms, up up. I bent over even further.
The pressure stopped, my arms lifted painfully behind me, the position made more awkward by the monoglove. Soft sound of naked feet against the thick red carpet.
He chuckled and pinched my fanny, “beautiful, beautiful.” Murmured while he stroked the temporary ink tattoos proclaiming me: SLAVE KALA.
Head hanging, in the blinders, I could see nothing but the carpet, he stood beside me but I couldn’t even see his feet. He tugged on the straps of my mask, first the straps closing my nostrils slid apart, allowing me to breathe better.
He inquired gently, “There, that’s a bit better isn’t it?”
“Yes sir.” I murmured, I would have called him master, but he preferred sir.
More tugging on my strap mask, the metal bit dug into my nostrils forcing me to raise my head, the bit stayed there making me keep my head up. I was now looking straight ahead, at cabinets against the wall full of various BDSM implements. The angle of my head would become painful after a while.
I saw him, naked and fit for his age, pass me, I watched his tight firm buttocks as he went to a cabinet and selected a flogger. A dozen leather cords with thick knots, it would hurt but not mark me for too long, no more than a few hours, and there was his party tomorrow.
The door opened (it was only one of several but I found out later the others were a bathroom and well…perhaps another time {I know, cheap literary tricks; I so deserve punishment}) and his head jerked up at the sound, he looked angry, but then he smiled.
“Elsie my love!” he looked to me, “Kala, meet my wife.”
At his little urging gesture, I turned in place, tippy-toeing until I’d spun bent over, 180 degrees with my head forced up. I was gazing straight ahead as I did this. Now I could see her, smiling as she crossed the room. Her ginger-blonde hair contrasted with the diaphanous blue dress but she still looked good in it.
She smiled at me as she spoke, “so you’re Kala, I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Yes Ma’am.” I said submissively.
“Oh call me Elsie, I’m as much a slave as you are.”
The statement finally drew my eyes to the thing glinting in the light, on her neck a collar of some silvery material, I saw faint marking on it (later I read it, it said Elsie Thorn property of Daniel Thorn); it had no visible lock, no way to take it off.
“Speaking of,” he paused with an ostentatious leer in his voice, “now that you’re here…”
She laughed, made a shooing motion, “oh get off, have you been enjoying her?”
“Oh very much,” Daniel Thorn replied calmly, “strip.”
The last was clearly a command he expected obeyed.
She grinned, “Oh-hmmmm.”
Gave me a mock conspiratorial look. Then she stripped, dropping the dress to pool around her feet, she removed her silk undergarments, tossing them aside with the lightness of wealth; she stood naked.
“What do you think, Kala?” Mr. Thorn asked me, and his wife obediently posed for my inspection.
In her 50s, she had a flat firm stomach, not as well developed as mine but…no fat hung off her hips or thighs, she was lean and well toned. High firmish breasts, her pussy was as shaved as mine, but he liked it that way. Her eyes radiated warmth and intelligence; a firm nose just a little upturned complemented her jaw line and high cheekbones.
I wasn’t into women really; I answered truthfully, “She’s beautiful sir.”
“She is isn’t she,” Thorn said somewhat musingly, “show her your brand, dear.”
Submissively she turned, showing me her backside, firm and tight. The right cheek was scored, not with an ink mark like I had, not even with a tattoo; she bore an old brand, seared into her flesh with hot metal she proudly proclaimed: ELSIE THORN. It was a wonderful, permanent sign of her love for him.
I felt tears sting my eyes, my Master had decided my hysterectomy scar was more than enough of a permanent marking for him; but suddenly, irrationally I wanted desperately to be branded, hot metal searing irrevocably a symbol of my love for my Master into my soft flesh. I shifted a little in my restraints, and felt myself cum in a quiet little rush.
“It’s stunning.” I choked out.
They both smiled at me, noting my quiet orgasm.
“So glad you approve, slave,” he sounded genuine.
Elsie turned around again, her snatch inches from my face, her lips were parted just slightly showing me the pink of her innermost self. I got the sense she was smiling down at me though the blinders kept me from looking at anything that wasn’t right in front of my face.
Thorn spoke, “let’s do something slightly different.”
He led Elsie away a few steps, so I could see them both clearly, Daniel smiled at me and handed Elsie the flogger. He whispered into her ear for over a minute, as, helpless in my restraints I could only stand there and watch her smile at me.
He spoke louder for my benefit, “so just flog her until I tell you to stop.”
Elsie replied submissively, “As you command, my lord.”
He stood there smiling at me gently; helpless I met his gaze as Elsie moved out of my sight, behind me. I felt her stroke my bottom, tracing the 3 inch high ink words on my right cheek with the tip of the flogger, the strap the butt-pug attached to also separated my cheeks gently, the better for spanking.
I felt her fingers find the strap where the plug attached, her fingers drummed lightly, expertly. Shivers ran up my anus, the muscles contracting hard around the anal-plug in response; I had no control over it. I moaned as I felt a gust of wetness splatter across my thighs, (I’m so very easily aroused).
Both Thorns chuckled, and she drummed harder a moment, when I wiggled she slapped my left cheek with her hand.
Gently she commanded, “Be still.”
I replied helplessly, “yes Elsie.”
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“Yes Elsie.”
The flogger slapped hard against my cheek, a flare of pain, I gloried in it. Another sharp slap, knotted cords digging into my cheeks, I smiled at the watching Thorn, murmured a wordless noise at the pain. She continued flogging me, hard enough to bruise as her husband, naked, approached me.
He stood before me, with the blinders and my head stuck in one position I could see nothing but his groin as he stood right before me. His penis wasn’t particularly large, 4 inches at rest uncircumcised, but large balls dangled below full and ready for more. He took himself in his hand, stroking once or twice, pulling back his foreskin, thrusting his head in my direction.
Murmured request, “open.”
I obeyed instantly, opening my mouth wide, feeling the straps pull against my face, as he guided his member into my mouth. I felt the pleasure growing between my legs, the flogger and my lack of easy balance making me squirm, the squirming making the rings dig into me; I would cum yet again very soon.
As his wife flogged me, I suckled Thorn’s dick, sucking hard and strong. He hardened quickly in response; the dark hairs of his crotch tickled my face as he thrust himself deeper inside the warm moist cavern of my maw. I swayed back and forth in place, sucking and licking as he pressed himself harder against me, his hand found the enstrapped queue of my hair, gripping firmly he moved opposite me complementing my movements as I sucked him off. He was fully engorged now, groaning softly as pleasure took him over, and his wife continued whipping my ass. I sucked harder, licking at the underside of his dick, finally he pressed himself hard against my face and began spending his semen into me. I swallowed hot ropy cords of him, taking it down my throat as he moaned in pleasure, and in response I too came, ejaculating my own female moistness (yes I ejaculate, I’m a horny little slut).
Elsie stopped flogging me, dropping the whip to the floor she came to her husband, I heard them kissing as his dick wilted in my mouth, emptied. I sucked just a little and a last few strands of cum ejected into me in response, I swallowed. He rested for a moment, before pulling out of me; Elsie took him gently in her hand, wiping his tip against my lips. I licked it, then kissed it; finally he stepped back.
Satisfied, “good, I think that’s enough punishment, don’t you slave?”
It was an effort to bend my head back enough to look up at him.
Softly I replied, “Yes sir.”
Elsie spoke; tender, “feet together.”
I complied as he moved behind me, I felt his hands competent on the rope as he freed me, and both of them (Elsie in front of me) helped me to stand straight. I towered over his wife who was a few inches taller than I at 5’6 but I stood in 7-inch heels and my feet ached.
Behind me, Thorn wrapped me in a gentle embrace, his wife, clearly informed, smiling at me reassuringly. One of his strong arms wrapped around my glove bound elbows behind my back, the other curved gently around my waist. He knelt me. I did not kneel at his command, he knelt me. His naked foot coming up, pressing gently into the backs of my knees, my legs folded at his pressure, I would have fallen hard against the thick carpet (fortunately he hadn’t bound me at a rope dangling over the parquet half of the room) but the pair of them supported me, eased me slowly to kneel as they stood over me. The pair crouched and lowered me helpless, over onto my side. I shifted a little until I was comfortable, then lay still.
Working together, they quickly but gently removed all my restraints, the weighted clamps on my tits, the serrated ones under my arms, Thorn had to retrieve the tube for the disk clamp from the pocket of his robe; it attached to the disk and he then retracted it, making it let go of my belly button. While he did this, Elsie removed the rings around my stamen and took off the earrings. They removed the strap mask, freed my black hair from the pins; slowly, gently, they extracted the plug, freed me from the corset making it so difficult to breathe (immediately I found it easier to think and my senses seemed to sharpen {back to normal I assume}). Finally they took off the monoglove and the boots; I was free.
Thorn spoke, “well, go clean up, Kala, then you can find Lizibeth and have her put you to work, I suggest you get your next punishment over with when you find her, you must be starving.”
I looked up at Thorn, miserably, hating having to be a Bad Girl. I spoke, “yes sir.”
They directed me to the playroom’s main (it had two) bathroom. It was huge, three separate shower stalls, two bathtubs, and a huge third one sunk into the middle of the floor, as well as three hand basins along one wall and a pair of toilets facing each other (you can imagine). Inside, waiting, the bag my Owner the perfect God whom I gladly worship, had packed for me…
It wasn’t hard to find Lizibeth, I found my way downstairs and the first servant I asked told me exactly where she was, I approached her subserviently.
She saw me and smiled radiantly. “Kala!”
I answered, addressing her as Xo had on the stairs, “hello Ma’am.”
She smiled, “no, no you call me by my name.”
“Yes Lizibeth.” I replied meekly.
“Allowed to speak now, I see, or did you decide you wanted a spanking?”
She was toying with me.
“I’m allowed, Lizibeth, I’m also starving,” I hesitated, took a breath then the plunge, “may I please have my sandwiches now?”
She sighed, “Oh well, so much for that, and I talked to him too,” she looked at me, “of course you can, my dear, they’ve been put in the fridge, go wait out on the deck where I hosed you down and I’ll bring them to you.”
I smiled at her, grateful, she planned to allow me to eat before punishing me, “yes Lizibeth.”
I didn’t have to wait on the deck long; she was out in a few minutes with my plastic wrapped plate from this morning, also a shiny red apple wet from just being washed and a glass of what looked like ginger ale. She set these on the table I was standing beside, not sure if slaves were allowed to sit without permission.
“Why don’t you sit down?” she asked as she set the food on the table.
I responded, appropriately meek, “yes, Lizibeth, thank you.”
She sat across from me and watched as I ate, the glass was ginger ale.
As I ate I asked, “Lizibeth, may I ask a question?”
She smiled, amused, “you just did, slave, but that’s what I’m here for, go ahead.”
“Why do I have to be bad before you’ll whip me, I know you want to?”
“Mr. Thorn has both paid servants and slaves, the servants of course he doesn’t sleep with, but allowing them to have sex with willing slaves is such a great job perk and taking the privilege away such an excellent way to punish servants. Because of that, there can be a fine dividing line between the two, one of the many ways he distinguishes that line is by a decree; us servants aren’t allowed to punish the slaves unless we catch them misbehaving, play is reserved for Thorn alone. We don’t get any fun unless we catch you disobedient.”
I nodded thoughtfully at the explanation, clearly Thorn made exceptions to reward his servants; witness the double bind that was going to have me whipped for a second time. I ate everything, finishing with the apple, the core I set on the plate; I sat and waited for my punishment. I’d misbehaved, as she’d desired, now she would please herself by torturing me in any way she wished.
She stood, “alright, let’s take these into the kitchen and then I’ll put you to work, party’s not till tomorrow but we still have plenty to do.”
I rose too, puzzled, “Lizibeth, aren’t you going to punish me now?”
She frowned, “punish you Kala? Whatever for?”
Was she playing with me, or did she not know? Thorn of course trusted me to in reality be a properly behaved good girl, here of her own free will and ready to do what she knew was wanted of her.
That meant one thing, the truth, “I’m allowed to speak now, but I’ve - Lizibeth didn’t he tell you he was going to order me not to request food?”
Dawning comprehension spread across her face, “you can speak but not to request the sandwiches you weren’t going to get until you asked for them,” she laughed, looked at me, “Kala, did you just misbehave?”
I nodded. She grinned at me, and I grinned back, I couldn’t help even knowing punishment was coming.
“Was this your idea, or Mr. Thorn’s?”
“Mr. Thorn’s.” I replied.
“I’ll have to thank him, put the plate down and follow me; we’ll go see your friend.”
I didn’t know quite what she meant, I’d met the slave Xo and seen her whipped for incompetence, Jeremy, one of the horse handlers at the stable, had helped me out and we’d made love; but as I hadn’t been allowed to speak to either at the time…well you could call them friends.
I followed her as she led me down the flagstone path which snaked throughout the hundred acres of lawn surrounding the mansion in turn surrounded by forest. The path led off to several outbuildings, and off into the woods as well, and I knew one path led back to the beach.
She led me to a small one-storey shack. The door wasn’t locked, she opened it and went in, and I followed. It was one big room, a table full of bondage equipment against one wall, a whipping X smooth polished mahogany with straps for the wrists and ankles against the same wall, hooks in the ceiling and other such conveniences for punishment. 2 slaves I hadn’t met yet knelt up against one wall, bellies and faces firmly against the rough wood with their hands clasped behind their heads. Each had a 3-inch high (6 inches total) ink tattoo on their right ass-cheek, one was SLAVE SONDRA the other SLAVE KAREN.
In the middle of the room, crying red-faced, tears streaming down her cheeks, stood Xo, her body shuddered as she sobbed. Her ankles were shackled side-by-side in rigid anklets, like rigid cuffs but bigger; they held her feet immobile. A short metal pipe about a foot long jutted at an angle from the middle of these, I could see it was detachable. This ended in a pair of rigid cuffs locking her wrists held out before her, from the cuffs another foot long pipe jutted ending in a collar locked around her throat. The restraint kept her bent over, ass thrust out for spanking. As she faced away from the door, I could see she’d been caned, her ass and upper thighs were a deep shade of red, I was sure she’d bruise, but only for a few days.
Lizibeth looked at the kneeling pair, snapped her fingers. They rose and approached her, keeping their hands locked behind their heads.
“She’s still crying?”
Karen answered, “Yes mistress. She hasn’t stopped.”
“You’d think she’d never been caned before.”
Xo cried, “Never!”
Lizibeth snapped at her, “Shut up, another word and you get double what you just received.”
Xo cried, but didn’t speak.
Lizibeth looked back to the other two, “what about you two, have you both learned your lessons?”
They chorused, “Yes mistress!”
“Get out of here, you know where to go.”
Again, “yes mistress.”
They left, leaving us alone with the crying Xo. Lizibeth gestured with a jerk of her head that I should follow her, I did and we walked around to face Xo, who looked up at us. With an effort she strangled her crying into sniffles and sobs; she looked at me then bowed her head.
Lizibeth took her under the chin, forcing her to keep looking up, “you’re lazy and sloppy.”
“I can’t help it, I’m trying,” sniffles.
“You’re not trying, what do you think you’re here for, you lazy slob?”
She sobbed out, “I’m doing my best, I don’t have to do anything like this at home, I’m a kitty!”
“Well, we’re not interested in coddling you this weekend; I thought it was explained to you, but apparently not. A chopper is headed to the mainland in a few hours, you’ll remain here until then, but I’m sending you home.”
She gasped in shock, “no please, please I want to stay, I’ll do better I promise.”
“I keep hearing that line from you, kitty,” she infused the word with contempt, “I’m no longer interested, you’re going home.”
Xo looked at me, wild eyed, “please, my master; my master wants me to learn to do housework. All I ever want is to make him happy I promise I, I came here ready to be put to work…please, Kala, help me.”
Lizibeth sniffed, “do you think she can help you, slave, there’s nothing she can do.”
I spoke up tentatively, “Lizibeth?”
She looked at me, wary, “yes slave.”
“May, maybe you could give her one more chance?”
“Why?”
“Well, she did promise to improve, and in my opinion I think she really does want to behave, she just needs a chance. You heard her, she’s not used to being anything but petted and cosseted, but she’s trying, I think she just needs closer supervision.”
Lizibeth considered, “perhaps. I’ll give her one more chance.”
Quickly she freed Xo, Xo straightened.
“Kneel.”
Xo submissively sank to her knees.
Lizibeth put a finger under Xo’s chin, forcing her to look up, “I know the guard shack in the northeast quadrant petitioned for a gang bang when they found out a hundred slaves were being brought for the weekend. You’ve been here with your master several times, you can find the shack?”
“Yes ma’am.” Xo whimpered; clearly defeated.
“Present yourself to them, I’ll find you later.”
She sucked in a deep breath, “yes ma’am.”
Xo rose and left, casting a glance over her shoulder. Alone now, Lizibeth shot the bolt on the door, insuring our privacy.
She strapped me to the whipping X jerking the plastic straps tight; she brought a blindfold and bound my eyes. Seconds passed, I heard cloth rustling but it was only when she pressed herself against me that I realized she’d stripped naked. She kissed my shoulder, the side of my neck, her breasts flat against my back, she bumped me with her hips; I stood in the restraints, silent, helpless. She pressed her lips to my neck, sucking gently. She moved back and from behind her hand found my vulva.
“I’m told you’re a real live nymphomaniac.”
“Yes Lizibeth.” I answered.
She laughed, a smoky sound, her fingers spread my nether lips wide, I was wet already I could feel a throbbing deep within me.
“You may not cum until I give you permission,” she ordered.
I answered helplessly, “Yes Lizibeth.”
She stroked me, long rough strokes, continuing until I writhed in humiliation against the X. I begged for permission to cum, but she didn’t reply; just kept playing with my vagina. I thrashed, jerked against the straps moaning, bucking my hips, continuing to beg. Long minutes passed, being unable to see made it worse, made me more aware of the sensations she sent racing, jolting through me; she continued rubbing my clit, stroking stroking. Her thumb found the end of my clitoris and she began tapping it gently as she stroked, running her thumb up and down in counterpoint to the strokes of two of her other fingers.
Completely humiliated, I begged unabashedly unladylike for permission to cum, again and again I begged her, phrasing it as many different ways as I could think of. Writhing and twisting in the restraints that held me securely helpless for her enjoyment, I broke to her, begging promising anything no matter the humiliation involved; finally when I collapsed against the wood exhausted and silent, just moaning silently as I ground my hips against the X, I heard it.
“You may come, slave.”
Immediately I squirted all over her hand, crying with relief as waves of orgasm rolled through me. Exhausted I hung in the straps, resting my face in the little V of the X, I could smell wood polish mixed with the sweat of slaves; she tugged at my hair gently, I raised my head. The fingers of her other hand came up and I could smell my own ejaculate on them.
She spoke softly, “lick it.”
I obeyed, opening my mouth, suckling on her fingers. Finally she took her hand away, unwrapping the cloth covering my eyes; slowly she released me from the X.
“Kala.”
I turned to look at her. Naked and tremulous, she stood looking at me with big, liquid eyes. Several years younger than me, she wasn’t, I knew, as comfortable with her sexuality as some, she kept expecting to be rejected; (I found out later she wasn’t bi, and unfortunately had been rejected several times, before she learned not to approach unattainable women).
“I,” she stopped dead, swallowed hard, looking ashamed.
Slowly I knelt for her, encouraged her softly, “yes Lizibeth?”
“You’ll tie me to the X and then, then I want you to eat me out.”
She gulped convulsively, not looking at me, tears shone in the corners of her eyes. Anyone evil enough to encourage her then refuse her at this point…well it would be a real blow to her. Of course even though I wasn’t really into women I was here for others’ pleasure and enjoyment, not my own; and I’d come to like her very much.
I answered softly submissively, “Yes Lizibeth.”
“And, and you’re not to tease me like I just teased you, okay?”
“As you wish Lizibeth, I’m here to serve you.” I reassured her.
Eyes closed, she shuddered and just stood there. Slowly I rose; I took her by the arm and led her over to the X.
“You’ll release me when I tell you to.”
It sounded more a request than a command, I was sure she hadn’t been on the receiving end of restraints before.
I soothed, “of course Lizibeth, you can trust me.”
She shuddered and nodded, but let me place her back against the X. I bound her wrists, then her ankles; she looked at me as I retrieved the blindfold from the floor.
“Hey, no,” she started.
But I placed a finger to her lips, “shhh, just relax.”
She took a deep breath and nodded, I blindfolded her, then knelt before her wide spread thighs. Slowly I nosed my face into the deep brown thatch of hair protecting her shy vaginal slit. I found her outer lips slowly I spread them wide with both hands, she shuddered and made a little noise. Slowly, delicately I licked her inner lips, spreading them apart with my tongue, she sobbed as I slid my organ deep inside her vulva, red and warm smelling slightly of some perfume.
I licked slowly, strongly, finding her cute little clit I stroked it with my tongue, at the same time spreading her lips wide apart with my fingers. She started and moaned I could feel her moistness flowing about my tongue, lubricating her and aiding in my task.
Slowly, deliberately I ate her clit, sucking and stroking, sliding one hand around to her ass I gripped her cheek hard and forced her to pop her hips, making her moan. She started making all sorts of sexy little please fuck me sounds. Giving no quarter I expertly brought her to the brink of orgasm, and held her there, trembling. She started whining and twisting as I slowly carefully gave little jolts of pleasure to keep her squirming on, but not over the brink of orgasm. She started begging like me, asking me to make her cum. I was a slave, I had to obey (mischievous grin); when she asked, I finished it, bringing her to orgasm.
I knelt back before her with my bottom on my heels, looking up at her. I watched her calm, allowed her to enjoy the post orgasm feeling; she was sweating lightly, muscles jumping gently as she recovered from the exertions I’d put her through. Finally she became more aware of herself; I saw her hanging head rise.
Questioningly, “Kala?”
“I’m right here Lizibeth,” I assured her from the floor.
“Release me, please.”
I rose to obey…
I was put to work for the rest of the day, which I enjoyed, casually being used like I really was nothing more than an owned thing, given mundane tasks to perform which once completed, simply led to my receiving another task. I did many things, I won’t list them but suffice it to say I labored.
As I worked, I talked with servants and slaves, and I found out a few things. There were about fifty servants here not counting certain specialty support staff (like security and the chefs and their assistants hired for the event), although this island retreat of Thorn’s only had a usual staff of ten; of which Lizibeth had been one since she’d got the job three years ago. A hundred slaves (down to 93 by that night, as Thorn dismissed the unacceptable) had been brought, many of them borrowed from friends of Thorn’s for the event tonight. About 30 guests were arriving, the most principal investors in some company Thorn had started, he planned to fete them as a reward (and to impress the shit out of them I’m sure).
I already knew, each of these guests would be ‘safe’ and would have permission to do as they pleased with the slaves. I learned he had seven chefs working in the kitchen, only two part of his normal staff (he had many properties, some were living places with full support staff) each a five star specialist in a different style of cooking. As I and the other slaves worked to make the place ready (and oh yes the servants too, Thorn wanted everything perfect, the island had been a hive of activity for a week) two of the male servants, as they were perfectly allowed to, took me aside (one into an empty room, another simply pushed me against the wall ignoring the other 3 slaves present {only after he’d looked us all over and chosen me}) and fucked me. Both times bringing me to orgasm, which I enjoyed. Of course other slaves were used this way too, in fact I saw Thorn himself take a tall blond French slave away. When the kitchen sent sandwiches out to the workers in the stables, I volunteered to be one of the slaves to bear the trays. Jeremy and I chatted for a while, after I’d introduced myself properly, but I didn’t offer and he was too busy to have time to fuck me; we just talked and got to know each other a little better as he wolfed down food, he was only 18!
I returned to work with the other slaves. Once I thought I’d done something wrong when, working outside in the garden one of the security people approached me, paramilitary uniform and festooned with weapons.
He looked at my tattooed ass; looked at me as he brought a plastic cuff out of his pocket, “turn around Kala.”
I did and he brought my hands behind my back, slipping the plastic band around my wrists and pulling it painfully tight, cuffing me.
I asked quietly, meekly, “have I done something wrong sir?”
His reply was a gruff, “you’re coming with me.”
I was nervous, none of the other slaves seemed to care, and the gardener overseeing us had looked over, nodded to the security guard and went back to directing slaves. The man, large powerfully built, in his mid-30s around my husband’s age, quietly led me away; I didn’t struggle. He took me off toward the woods, ignoring the path, walking across the grass; I looked around, less and less people were in sight the closer we got to the woods.
I tried again, meekly, “please sir,”
He cut me off, “be quiet slave, you’re fine.”
His grip on my arm tightened and I had little choice but to walk. He took me into the trees, we walked a little way and came to a clearing, he’d obviously chosen the spot. A large tree had fallen decades ago, the trunk lying across this little shaded meadow in the woods; he led me over to it.
Terse, “kneel, bend across it.”
I laid myself across the trunk, ass stuck up into the air. He fucked me like that, he was rough but as he spent himself in my vagina his hand found my clit, rubbed vigorously until I too came. Finished he pulled out and knelt behind me, hands resting on my upthrust hips, then he moved. I heard a soft snick and looked back; he had a large knife in his hand.
Before I could react he severed the plastic cuffs holding my wrists, he shifted over to sit beside me, and I knelt beside him facing him. He had me pull up his pants, then he pulled me into his lap; we sat there quietly for a few minutes as he fondled my breasts and idly stroked my belly, finally he dropped his hands.
Whispered into my ear, “my break’s almost over, back to work, slave.”
“Yes sir,” I replied; I got to my feet and returned to the garden.
And that night Elsie and Daniel Thorn chose me to spend the night with, and I slept in the monoglove…
CHAPTER 4
I started working with the other slaves, trying not to think about Xo being sent away, later I’d get her contact information. Work quite frenetic as the final finishing touches were made in preparation for arriving guests, the first of whom could arrive early any time now, was nonetheless uneventful; until I finished my lunch in a corner of the kitchen.
The large stout German chef, Greta, one of Thorn’s regulars, approached me. She looked like she was right out of a 50s movie, she had little and guttural English, but she managed to make herself understood (all of her assistants were bilingual).
“Come.”
I got up and followed her; she took me into a storage room, locking it behind us.
She looked at me, “slave is down.”
I knelt. It wasn’t what she wanted.
She jabbed a finger at the floor, “no, down, down.”
I offered, “I’m sorry ma’am.”
I tried lying on my back, that seemed to be it. She hiked up her ankle length skirt, pulled off her panties; clearly she wanted me to eat her pussy. Stuffing her panties into her pocket, she stood over my face. I lay still; slowly, knees popping, (she was in her 40s and let’s face it, heavy didn’t describe it) she squatted above me.
Gruff order, “open.”
I misunderstood, raising my head toward her descended hairy pussy I opened, bringing my tongue up toward her lips. Her thighs tensed, she gave a little sigh of relief as a stream of urine jetted from her, hitting me in the forehead. She shifted a bit, directing the stream toward my open mouth. Ugh! Disgusting! I can’t describe my shock and horror, my Owner the Master of my will, would never do such a thing to me without at least discussing it with me first.
I shouted my shock and disgust, pressing my hands into her flabby food-increased ass, I wiggled out from beneath her. With a yell she sprawled forward on all fours, pissing on the floor, (she got it all over my face and in my poor raven tresses dammit). With an angry bellow she scrambled to her feet, murder in her eyes she approached me as I too stood. She launched a heavy open palm slap at my face; easily falling into the training my Master had forced me to take, I raised a single stiff arm, deflecting the blow, but if she made me hit back…
I shouted into her face, “no! Stop!”
She stopped immediately, stepped back, looking discomforted.
She pointed a thick finger at me, insisted, “You slave.”
“Yes but you can’t do that do me without asking first, you, you took me by surprise, I’m sorry.”
I was sorry, as refined as my sensibilities are, Master had explained His wants to me; I was here to be used. If she’d made it clear, given me time to accept it… and I would never have made her think I was going to submit, then send her sprawling like that; it was just surprise, I was really sorry. She didn’t understand all I said to her I could see that.
She took a moment to compose herself, then glared at me dangerously, “stay.”
She walked haughtily passed me; I heard the door lock from the other side. They left me there for over an hour, there was piss in my hair piss on the floor. I was ashamed and humiliated; I curled up in a corner and had a cry. I resolved to be good if given another chance, it didn’t matter that she wanted to use me as her toilet, if that pleased her I’d do it, because pleasing Thorn would please my Master.
Eventually the door was opened, Lizibeth stood there, and I got slowly to my feet. She looked me over, glanced around the room; she had a pair of handcuffs in her hand.
She sighed, “oh Kala.”
I began to blubber, “I’m sorry.”
She cut me off, “would you like to return to your Master? We can take you immediately if you wish.”
“No,” I whined, “not unless I’m being sent away.”
“You can stay, at least to discuss it with Mr. Thorn.”
She held up the cuffs questioningly, I nodded. She beckoned and I came to her, she cuffed my hands behind my back.
“Can, can I wash my hair?” I begged.
Stern, “not right now no.”
She led me handcuffed, toward my meeting, I felt humiliated, reeking piss in my hair, slaves looked at us as we passed.
As we walked she whispered quietly, “Greta is important to him, if you want to leave he’ll expedite it, and you’ll have a quick happy journey; but if you want to stay, you’re going to have to do what she wanted you to.”
I nodded quickly, “okay, that’s fine she just caught me un-.”
She cut me off in mid-word, gently, “save it for Mr. Thorn.”
We came into the office through which the playroom was reached; Xo lay on the carpet, hands bound against her sides. Wrapped head to foot, red ribbon ended in a bow just above her ass, a gag was in her mouth and tears leaked from her eyes. The words BAD SLAVE had been inked in her left ass cheek, and I could see an envelope pinned to the bow, marked with a name I presumed to be her master. Everyone ignored her. Lizibeth led me before the desk, behind which Thorn gravely sat, an angry Greta standing beside the desk.
Clear dismissal, “thank you Lizibeth.”
She curtsied, murmured sir, and left me standing there handcuffed, facing them.
“Since you’re standing here,” Thorn spoke softly, “you want to stay.”
I nodded, “yes sir, please, I’ll do what she wants, I, I was just caught by surprise. I thought she wanted something else.”
“To be clear, you are willing to let Greta here, piss in your mouth?”
I nodded miserably, “yes sir.”
“You don’t have to, you know, I’ll send you home if you want.”
I whispered, “Please, I’d like to stay.”
Very carefully I didn’t look at Xo.
“And you’ll swallow when she pees?”
I shuddered, closed my eyes opened them, I felt gorge roiling in my belly, “please sir, please, don’t make me do that.”
“I’m not making you, Kala, but you can’t stay unless you do this. If I ask, personally for you to do this, for me, to help me keep a very important chef happy for me on the eve of a party,”
I cut him off, “I’ll do it sir, I’ll, I’ll do it, I want only to please you.”
He nodded and spoke to Greta in rapid fire German for several minutes, she listened intently, occasionally speaking back, and finally she turned to me.
“Greta will take you back to the kitchen now,” he told me.
“Yes sir, thank you sir.” I replied. I curtsied as best I might.
In the kitchen she placed a high stool in the middle of the frantically active floor, dozens of people whirled and eddied around us as she sat down and pulled me across her lap. I surrendered completely, head down, piss sodden shoulder length hair around my face, waiting ass upturned across her knees; she began spanking me. Hard meaty whaps across my upturned waiting cheeks, each one stung and the pain built steadily. I began to cry; but what was worse; cruelly she used her broken English in a loud voice, punctuating each blow.
“Bad slave! Naughty Kala! Disobedient! Bad bad bad slave.”
Etcetera.
The spanking continued, and it hurt, but my tears were mostly for the fact I’d been bad, which she announced to the room. Yes what she wanted, and was going to get, was disgusting, but I was here to serve. I waited patiently for the spanking to end (patiently yes, also sobbing and crying, squirming until she braced me still with her free hand).
Finally she finished and urged me off her knees, we went back into the storeroom, and I lay down again, a little more work with my hands cuffed behind my back. She made me lie in the little pool of urine on the floor, it soaked into my hair some more. She squatted over me and from her little grin I just knew she’d found something to drink. Obediently, submissively, with nothing but surrender in my heart, I opened my mouth wide for her.
Again she sighed, a thick stream, dark yellow smelling strongly of carrot jetted from her, it arced neatly into my mouth. I had to swallow quickly as it filled my mouth. She pissed and I drank, and I managed not to vomit, I felt tears of shame sting my eyes as I made her happy by being her toilet. Finished she gave a little grunt as she rose, without a word but glaring at me angrily before she unlocked the door and left. Lizibeth waiting right outside, undid the handcuffs and took me to a bathroom...
Lizibeth helped me put the incident behind me, she bathed me as she had the day I arrived, and perhaps thinking I liked women, she solicitously joined me in the tub and used her mouth to bring me repeatedly to orgasm. Thorn also asked me later if I was okay, as did Jeremy and several other slaves and servants.
I was allowed to relax in the hours leading up to the party, Lizibeth and other servants in charge, briefed each slave individually on exactly what they were to do, so I knew exactly what was expected once the guests arrived. I lazed around and watched the table being set up in the great hall, the centerpieces was fantastic, amid the silver and flowers lining the huge table, capable of seating a hundred down each side (only thirty place settings though, grouped around one end of the table). A Rope Master turned a quartet of willing naked slaves into the centerpieces.
One was made to look like a suckling pig, bound on her belly wrists tied to her ankles (her feet sported little white caps) a shiny red ball gag in her mouth. Hair pulled back and tied to keep her head up, she had glazed candies piled over her. Another, made to kneel back straight and head up, had her wrists bound to her knees, ankles to thighs with her ass back on her heels. A complicated and visually pleasing corset of varicolored ropes wound around her body, holding her helpless until the dinner was over.
The last pair had it worse, in the center of the table they bent over, asses pressed together. Each had their arms bound behind their backs in a monoglove made of black cord, the ankle of each bound to the opposite ankle of the other, and all four knees bound in one tight circle of rope. Rope around their hair tied their raven black and bright blond tresses together forcing each to look straight ahead, each was gagged with a rope locking their jaws closed. Harnesses bound their breasts tightly so the blood filled them, and I knew what that would do; but that wasn’t the worst, each was told they had to hold off on orgasm as long as they could, for after the party they’d be punished for each time they’d cum. He separated them as much as the ropes allowed, taking a heavily oiled double ended dildo, he slid it up the first girl’s anus slowly, then positioning it, he gently eased the second girl onto it, until all you could see was the realistic sack where the two penises met. Then he bound their vaginas open using nothing but ropes around their waists and thighs, knots digging painfully into their neither lips to open them wide. He used those ropes as a base to form a cradle, much as my Master sometimes does with me, and within those cradles, each received a small flesh colored vibrator (these were switched on shortly before the guests were seated, after the girls had been in place on the table for over 4 hours).
The party itself I had little interest in, the guests mingled and talked, and we slaves circulated serving wine and delicacies; there were 27 men and 3 female guests. Eventually dinner was served, and I was assigned to do nothing but stand discreetly behind a small wiry Asian man in his 60s, making sure his wine was full and he was otherwise taken care of. They ate, and talked and Thorn rose several times to make short speeches greeted with applause, apparently they’d decided to hold the dinner talk in French as everyone there spoke it (except maybe me {I know, bad Canadian}) none of the other slaves seemed particularly interested either, finally dinner ended, the guests happy.
They drifted about with after dinner drinks, and I along with the other slaves, followed making sure all the guests were taken care of. The Japanese man brought me out on a balcony and presented me like a gift to his 30 year old son, who hadn’t been at dinner but came up from their moored yacht for the after party festivities. The gentleman took one look at me and made it plain what he wanted, as I’d been instructed I took him to one of more than a score of fully equipped playrooms dotting the house (yes Thorn used the retreat for ahem, interesting parties). He tied me up and whipped the hell out of me, before fucking me several times. Of course I orgasmed a few times as I’m just a horny little nympho, but he didn’t do anything special.
Finally he released me and sent me downstairs with orders to seek out a red head with huge breasts, a small dark haired Asian and a blond with soft white skin and a big ass; making it plain I didn’t have to return with them. I had to enlist Lizibeth’s help, but we found what he wanted and sent them to him in his playroom. Next another slave approached me, and pointing out a guest who’d spotting me across the room, told me to go to him.
I presented myself to him with a wide smile and my best imitation (clothesless) of Lizibeth’s curtsy.
I murmured, “You wanted me my lord.”
He smiled, appraising me with hawk-like eyes; he looked (and sounded) exactly like he’d answered a casting call for Texas oil baron, “that’s right pretty little lady, is there somewhere we can go?”
“If my lord will follow me?”
I led the way to a different playroom, but paused as it was clearly occupied; I led him to a different one, having been made to memorize the routes to get to each of them. This was empty, he put me on all fours on the middle of the bed, hobbling my wrists and knees with rope and more rope hobbled my ankles. He took a crop to my ass, welting the hell out of me, before stripping and kneeling behind me with a tube of lubricant. He spread my cheeks and I couldn’t help but fart as he pressed the nozzle against the starred hole of my anus.
“Excuse me.” I murmured, hanging my head.
He guffawed and slapped the cheek bearing my name with a hard palm, “that’s alright kid, you just relax now.”
“Yes my lord.” I replied meekly as he lubed my anal hole.
When he’d lubed his penis, which was indeed as large as he stated when he compared it to Texas flatland; he decided he was ready, and he fucked me, very roughly up the asshole. Done, he used the bathroom, leaving me bound, and then left the playroom without bothering to untie me.
Fortunately Lizibeth soon appeared; releasing me, she ‘helped’ (read busy hands) in the bathroom, and I returned to the party. I blew two more men in corners, and stood behind a guy with my finger stuck up his butt while he fucked a girl up the ass and made out with a third. I tied up a man and teased him while another slave whipped his back, and I helped a woman torture a helpless slave with hot wax, before eating her pussy while she watched.
Again I stood in the main room; the party was thin now, many of the guests up in private rooms with a slave or three, it was nearing midnight. A slave I’d met briefly, Sondra, came and told me Thorn wanted me. Heart racing, wondering if I’d done something wrong, I let her lead me off to a small room away from the main party. Thorn sat with another man, alone except for Lizibeth.
“Leave us Sondra.” Thorn grunted.
Sondra left before Thorn spoke again.
Smiling he introduced me, “Kala, this is Douglas, Douglas Thorpe.”
I curtsied, “hello sir.”
“Let’s be informal Kala.” Lizibeth told me, “a free willed woman who can make up her own mind.”
“Okay.” I replied, looking at Thorn questioningly.
“Would you like to sit down Kala?” Thorpe asked.
“I’d rather kneel, since I’m naked.”
They wanted an outspoken woman instead of a meek slave, that’s what they’d get.
Thorn ordered, “Lizibeth fetch Kala some clothes.”
“I’m more than happy naked.” I replied mildly before she could move.
Thorpe spoke, “alright, but we’d like to speak to you frankly.”
I sank to my knees between them (they sat in facing leather armchairs).
I prompted, “Yes?”
“Kala, Thorpe here brought his son along, we’d like to talk to you about him. Now to be clear, it’s perfectly fine if you don’t want to have anything to do with it, you don’t even have to hear us out, you can just go back to the other guests and I won’t take it amiss; or you can listen and refuse, no one will hold it against you.”
“I’m listening Mr. Thorn, Mr. Thorpe.” I promised.
I sought Lizibeth’s eyes, she smiled and nodded, I got the feeling she knew what was up.
Mr. Thorpe spoke haltingly, “my son, he’s out on my yacht, I didn’t think it was such a good idea to bring him to the party once I was absolutely sure exactly what kind of entertainment was happening tonight.”
He paused, I encouraged, “yes sir?”
“You see, he just turned 18 three days ago.” Thorpe paused, took a deep breath, I waited. “I was thinking I’d give him another, lateish, birthday present.”
“Oh, well that’s no problem, you want me to go out to your yacht?”
“It’s a little more complicated. You see, er, a few weeks ago, we, he and I had a talk, he um, well he admitted he’s a virgin.”
I breathed, “Oh.”
“Also, I’m not absolutely certain just how much experience he has, but I’m almost entirely certain he’s more than casually interested in bondage.”
I spoke quietly, “I see.”
There was a moment of silence while I thought in my head about what they were getting around to asking me to do; a little thrill went through me; but it could be a bit of work.
Thorn spoke gently, “you see Kala, we’ve been discussing it for the last hour or so and I’ve recommended you to Mr. Thorpe.”
I answered, “Yes sir.”
“What I’d like you to do Kala, if you’re willing, is sort of um, show him the ropes so to speak.”
“Of course, I understand, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you.” Thorpe said, “um, you realize he might be, I mean I haven’t told him I’m sending someone, it will be a complete surprise to him. He might be a little shy, you might have to try a bit, seduce him, you know.”
“I see, yes, I think I can manage though.”
“It might be best if you didn’t explicitly tell him I’d outright informed you he was a virgin.”
I grinned, “Yes I can see how that might upset him.”
Thorpe chuckled, “yes well I wouldn’t have but I wanted you to understand the full situation. You will be gentle with him, won’t you?”
“Of course sir.”
Thorn spoke, “best of course, if you went clothed, Elsie has put out clothes for you, we’ve arranged everything up to the yacht, once you’re onboard, well it’s up to you.”
“I understand sir.”
“I won’t come back to the yacht until you return,” Thorpe said, “take your time, do anything with him he wants that you’re willing to oblige.”
“Yes sir, I think I can take it from here.”
Thorpe spoke gruffly, “thank you Kala. I really appreciate this.”
I replied simply, “you’re welcome.”
I gave him a dazzling smile as I rose smoothly, confidently planning my next moves, following Lizibeth from the room.
She took me to the playroom. Elsie was not in evidence. We went to the bathroom and Lizibeth and I talked as I bathed, she wanted to bath me again but I asked her not to. I cleaned myself thoroughly using three kinds of soaps and shampooing with two different shampoos. I let her help me dry myself thoroughly, then from the bag my Master had packed I looked and fortunately found my traveling make-up case. Artfully I applied just a little makeup, just enough to highlight my natural features. I let Lizibeth place some scent on me as she had the day before, I felt all jittery, the enormity of what I was doing finally dawning upon me; not only would I be the boy’s first, but if he wanted, I was going to introduce him to S&M, I just hoped he didn’t want a dominant, it would be a tough stretch for me.
Clothing was laid out on the playroom’s huge bed (this was Thorn’s private playroom and none of the guests were brought here). Midnight blue silk underwear, in my size, lacy and sheer, it would drive any man wild. A black evening gown, a V showed much but still concealed a lot of my back (hiding welts) another V scooped low between my breasts, but still appropriate for any formal occasion, it was slit high on both thighs leaving my legs free. Dark pantyhose, and prada high-heeled shoes (only 2 inches those, not bondage standard, ha-ha). Elsie had also lent me some jewelry, a small gold pendant of some eastern motif depended from a thin gold chain, it looked exquisitely beautiful, sparkling with a few diamond chips, a pair of large diamond earrings as well.
I dressed slowly, Lizibeth helping solemnly; almost we made a ritual of it. She led me from the house. Stopping in the kitchen she took me a bottle of champagne; I tucked it under my arm. We followed the path that led towards the beach, but at the base of the rise that blocked view of the harbor I stopped.
“There’s a boat waiting to take me to the yacht?”
“Yes, Jeremy’s waiting to row you out.”
I was surprised, “Jeremy?”
Lizibeth smiled indulgently, “don’t worry, he’s not jealous. All he knows is you’re going to go have sex with someone on the boat.”
“I see, can, can I walk the rest of the way alone?”
She looked momentarily disconcerted, then she rallied, touched my arm, “of course Kala, I’ll see you later, maybe in the morning?”
I nodded, “goodnight.”
She left me and I waited until she was back in the woods before climbing the rise. I went to the edge of the dock, a dark figure stood beside one of more than a score of little boats. Dozens of yachts were anchored out on the harbor. Jeremy came to me where the dock met sand, under an arc light on a tall pole.
He smiled tentatively, “Kala? Are we still going?”
I smiled at him, “yes but I just want to think for a few minutes, can you wait?”
He shrugged, “as long as you want Kala.”
“Thank you.” I said to him.
I walked off onto the sand, holding my bottle of champagne. I stood on the sand, listening to the sounds of laughter coming faintly from the mansion, looking out on the harbor, upon which every yacht was dark from what I could see. I stood in the dark for a long time. I stood on the windswept beach and thought about what I was about to do, a single irrevocable act, which would deeply permanently affect someone’s life, especially if it went badly.
Read the rest of slave kala at:http://www.a1adultebooks.com/2491.htm
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