A New Life

Chapter 4

The Mistress looked behind the kneeling figure beside her and motioned with her chin.  The woman felt a large hand slip behind her; thumb entering her asshole, two middle fingers entering her cunt.  Massive fore and pinkie fingers clamped her labia together against the middle fingers.  The flesh was squeezed like it was in a vise.  The other hand clamped her breast in a crushing grip.  Simultaneously his partner picked up her ankle chains, folding her knees up to her thighs and grabbed her other breast.  They picked her up as if she were a folding lawn chair and carried her toward a steel door.

       

She started to look around when the voice belonging to the thumb in her ass said:

“Down. You only look down.”  He said while squeezing her pussy even tighter and bearing down with his thumb against his palm for emphasis.  His voice was very calm, impassive.  Her entire crotch felt like it was being crushed. She looked down and saw the bottoms of athletic shorts, two pair of incredibly large legs extending down into equally impressive feet clad in deck shoes, one on either side of her body.

“Are you thirsty?”  The same voice asked.  She nodded, not knowing whether or not to speak.

The door opened as they approached; they passed through and down a series of hallways to an elevator.  They entered, still holding her, she felt their descent.

“How far?”  She wondered.  The trip was smooth; there was no sensation of speed, or even of stopping.  Suddenly the doors opened and they stepped through and turned right.  At the third doorway they stopped at the opening and she was carried in.  They turned her from left to right, displaying her new quarters. A low, narrow, short bed was against the left wall.  It was adorned only with a thin mat, covered with a sheet of coarse cotton.  A flannel sheet was the only blanket.  In the far left corner was a funnel shaped three inch hole, less than 2 feet away was a small bucket.  The walls were white painted cast concrete, extending 9 feet to a concrete ceiling.  A flush mounted light fixture spread diffuse light into the chamber.  They carried her over to the hole. Thumb spoke again:

“That's your toilet.”  He paused while they turned her a few degrees. “That's your water bucket.”  It was half full of a pale yellow liquid. 

“Looks like it needs topping off.”  The voice of the other one said.  They gently placed her on her knees on the floor.  The thumb that had been in her ass was presented to her mouth for cleaning.  The fingers and palm were soaking wet.

“Damn!”  She thought.  “I've sucked smaller cocks than this.”  And she began to treat it like a cock.

From the corner of her eyes she could see the other one pull from his shorts a cock that would impress a horse.  This made her eyes widen.  The cock began pissing, filling the water bucket.  She released the now clean thumb and watched with her head bent down as the other one pulled out a cock of similar gigantic proportions and also added to the bucket.  When they had finished the bucket was filled to the brim; foamy and bright yellow. 

       

One of the massive hands grasped the back of her head like she would hold a baseball and pushed her face into the bucket.

“Drink.”  Was his only command.  Her entire face was submerged, she had no other choice but to drink.  She swallowed as fast as possible.  The urine filled her nose and sinuses, burning.  She drank, the familiar taste warm on her tongue.  She began to run out of air.  Her lungs began to burn, her throat spasmed.  Her body jerked, then her head was pulled up long enough for her to get a lungful of air and then it was returned to the bucket.  The memory of drowning in an ocean of piss that she had had during her transport came back.  Her face was only in a small pail; it might as well have been the Pacific.

“Cunt, you're going to have to learn to drink faster than that.”  One of the men said.  Through the haze of pain she felt her hips being lifted up, her head not moving a millimeter.  She felt a large blunt object at her asshole and then felt it press into her. 

“Oh, no,” she thought “I can't take that dry, it would be difficult with lube...lots of lube!”  She was wrong, of course.  The cock forced into her pucker, the pain from her ass adding to the pain in her chest and head.  He thrust into her; her body almost upside down.  She continued to drink, getting an occasional opportunity to breathe.  She felt him pull her ass tightly to him and then he jerked several times.  The cool rush of air into her asshole as he withdrew helped sooth the pain.  Her head was released and she was handed to the other one.  He too plunged into her ass, his entrance aided by the stretching from his partner and the copious amount of semen left behind.  As she was pounded by the second one the first one presented his tool for cleaning.  She was suspended between the two behemoths.

“No way that thing is going down my throat.”  She thought.  This time she was right; but not before a valiant attempt to achieve that goal was made.  He relented to her getting the head and a few inches into her mouth, then licking the shaft clean. 

She felt the second one jerking hard against her ass and then her hole was again empty.  They returned her to her knees to finish her hygiene chore.  When she had finished, a hand reached behind her and unlocked the cuffs.  Without releasing her wrist her hands were brought in front of her and the cuffs re-installed.  A short metal cable with a loop welded on one end was slipped through a ring on her collar; a metal ball slightly larger than the ring welded to the other end secured it.  The loop was pushed through a hole in the hinge of the cuffs and a padlock snapped onto the loop. 

“Welcome home.”  Thumb said.  His voice sounded like he might have been smiling.  She watched their feet walk out the door and the door slide shut. 

After a few minutes she edged over and propped her butt onto the mattress.  She leaned over and pulled the sheet away, squirming onto the pad. The bed was too short to fully stretch out on, so narrow that her shoulder was on the edge.  Her copper hued hair was soaked, piss dripping onto the pad; she realized that she was soiling the cover with the remnants of her sodomy, brown smears streaking the sheet.  She ignored it; what else could she do?  The lights dimmed then went out.  She drifted into a slumber.

Chapter 5

She dreamed that she was lying under a waterfall.  Torrents of liquid splashed down over her face, filling her nose, then her mouth.  She awoke to two fire hose size streams of piss coming from the same two cocks she had experienced the day (or was it night?) before.  She reached up with her bound hands to block the flow and allow her to get a gasp of air.  Her knees came up and swung off to the side; tangling the flannel sheet and dragging it along with her body to the floor.  She knelt, the two streams following her movements and aiming around her hands; piss again soaking her hair and face.  Rivulets ran off of her body, soaking into her blanket.

“Think she'll learn?”  One of the men asked.

“Maybe.  Hope not too soon, though.” The other answered.  “They're more fun while they're stupid.  Hey, cunt.  Who said you could get off the bed?”

She began to untangle her feet and legs and to scramble back up onto the bed.

“Stop.  While you're down there, stay down.”  She was told.  The streams faded, urine dripping from her head and body.  One of the men pulled her by the arm so that they could stand on either side of her. Again the thumb and fingers found her convenient “handles” and lifted her up.  She thought of her self as a large, irregularly shaped bowling ball.  They carried her towards the door.  She told them:

“I can walk.”

“Fine. Go ahead. Now shut up.” The vise at her crotch tightened another notch. They kept going as before, through a maze of hallways, the floor revealing little about her surroundings.  Soon she saw that they had arrived at a shower and toilet area.  It looked large; she couldn't tell just how large but she gathered in her few peeks that a small group could shower there.  The two escorts put her down in front of a shower head and lifted her hands. A looped cable hung from the ceiling; it was slipped through the hole in her cuffs and a padlock kept her in place.  Without a word the two men left; a stern looking woman wearing only wrist and ankle cuffs connected by chains began preparing her shower. 

The water was turned on; it was warm.  At least she wouldn't freeze.  After she was soaked the woman applied shampoo and lathered her hair.  Once that was rinsed the woman turned to get a sponge.

“Where am I...what is…” The bound woman started to say. Her words were cut off by a sharp crack as a pain struck her left ass cheek.  She wondered if she had been hit by lightning.

“Quiet. Not. Another. Sound.”  The admonition came from another woman; attired like the first; that had slipped in unnoticed.  A large towel with one wet corner hung from her hand.

“That's going to leave a mark.”  The almost suspended woman thought as she winced.  Again, she was correct.  They finished the shower with a cold rinse, then a rub down with a large towel. 

The two escorts returned and delivered her to what seemed to be a gathering or common area containing tables, chairs and benches.  They deposited her next to a chair before a table.  She repeated the thumb cleaning.  A plate of scrambled eggs mixed with ham and a side of hash browned potatoes was placed on the table in front of her, a glass of milk and a plastic spoon accompanied the meal.  She ate hungrily; the eggs and potatoes were excellently prepared.  After finishing one of the escorts told her:

“You have an invitation.  Come with us.”

“As if I have a choice?”  She thought.

This time she was allowed to walk, one man ahead of her, the other behind.  She caught peeks around until the one behind popped her ass with something, possibly a crop or maybe just a massive hand.

“Look down. You must be slow.”  Was all he said.

They arrived at a door.  A brass plaque, out of the captive's sight read “Office”.  The door opened and they stepped inside.  The escorts stepped back and disappeared out the door; it slid closed behind them.  She stared down at the floor, trying to get a grasp of what was in the room.

“Again, welcome home. You may sit…in the chair.” He motioned to the chair in front of the desk. “And you can look up in here.”  A male voice told her. 

She looked around and found a comfortable straight backed chair and sat.  She took the offered opportunity and examined her surrounds.  The room was simple; carpet, several black and white framed prints of women in extremely uncomfortable positions adorned the walls. A dark brown leather couch sat under two of the prints. A wooden file cabinet and a credenza were against the back wall. The man who had spoken was seated behind a simple desk with a glass top bearing an open laptop computer. He was perhaps 40, not much older than that.  His hair was light brown and cut short; eyes gray. He wore a pale blue polo shirt and khaki chinos.

“Deck shoes.  Must be the uniform” She thought.

He seemed fit and sat relaxed in the plush leather office chair.  He seemed a bit taller than average, thought being seated it was hard to tell.  A slight smile played across his face as he watched and waited for her reaction.  She finally noticed that the front legs of the desk were exactly that: female legs, the soles supporting the glass, the other ends finished with a wide base.  The back supports were arms, the flat palms holding the glass.  The shoulder ends terminated in bases matching the legs.

“OHH!”  She gasped, looking at the limbs then back at the man.  She paled and drew back into the chair as far as she could.  She was almost paralyzed by fear.

“Are those...do those belong...”  She couldn't get the question out. She pointed with a finger while both hands held her face.

“Are you asking about the desk legs?”  The man asked.  “Actually; legs and arms.”  He seemed amused.  “Are you asking if they belong to the female who attended the mistress yesterday?” She nodded.  “Yes.  She didn't want them anymore.  They are just to pretty to discard.  Don't you agree?”  She didn't move nor speak.

“You'll learn more about them later.  First;  while in here you may speak.  You may ask questions without any recrimination.  Of course if your questions become tedious the visit might be cut short.  You will only come here by invitation.  You can refuse the invite, if you wish.  And nothing will come of it.  But an invitation is rarely refused.” He smiled. “The irony is that the only thing you can refuse is an invitation to come here.  Everyone calls it 'The Office.'  It isn't the only office, of course.  But it's the only one most of our occupants ever see.  Did your welcome meet your expectations?”

“Which welcome...?”  She replied hesitantly.  “The demonstration of the...donor.”  She gestured towards the desk, “Or the one in the room?”  The man laughed softly.

“Mainly the demonstration,” The man laughed. “Your escorts are the “Roscoes”.  They aren't biological twins, but they're pretty close to it otherwise.  They weren't being either particularly brutal, or imaginative. They can be extremely imaginative as well as brutal.  You may find out.  They were following instructions.  And they follow instructions quite well.  Most all the staff does.  Otherwise they find positions elsewhere. My name is Charles, though for you that will be mostly irrelevant for some time.  If you do have the occasion to speak to me, you may address me as 'Sir'.  As you will to every other male to whom you might speak.  Females are either ma'am or 'Lady'.  Of course your mistress is ‘Mistress’. It's unlikely you will speak much outside of this office for at least a few weeks.  You are permitted to answer direct questions. Your education will begin as soon as you leave here.  So if you have any questions; ask them now.”

“Where am I?”  She asked, “Sir.”  She added.

“You are here…at home.”  He answered.

“Where is here, sir?”  She again inquired.

“Your question is tedious.  Don't waste the opportunity.”  He said calmly.  She thought for a moment.

“I was bought.  Was I expensive?”  She asked.

“Expensive enough,” He said flatly.  She was suddenly apprehensive that she was boring him.

“What will I do here?  What can I expect?  Who am I?”  She questioned. He smiled.

“A better line of questioning.  I'll answer them in the reverse order.  We don't know who you are; yet.  “But since you arrived on Tuesday, for now, that will be your name. For example, it took many months to determine Helena's name.  She's the donor of my desk supports that you saw yesterday.”  He motioned to the desk. “She didn't know; no one knew, exactly what her true purpose was until she and her...instructors...arrived at her true desire.  It was determined that she wanted to...specialize.  And that her specialty would not require the use of her arms and legs.  She asked that they be removed.  When she visits here she doesn't even notice them.”  The woman seemed incredulous.

“She ASKED that they be amputated?”  Tuesday asked, astonished.

“Quite.  Begged, in fact.  The mistress permitted it with reluctance.  But, she was right, after all.  Her self imposed immobility suits her uses perfectly.  Hopefully you, and we, will find your position with such certainty.”  Her mind was reeling. “Everyone has a purpose here.  We are very good at helping each one find their purpose.  As to your expectations, they too, will partly be up to you to decide.  I can assure you that any experiences you may have had prior to coming here will be mild compared to what you will experience here.  I've seen the videos and stills; the web site captures. You were quite the party girl. We party much, much rougher than that.”  She swallowed, scared. “There will be pain.  That seems to excite you, to arouse you.  You will be aroused; that is part of the intent.  Then taken way past that.  Humiliation excites you.  A few weeks as a personal toilet for anyone who wants or needs your services will satisfy as at least one source of humiliation.  You will probably get a chance to join Helena in the stables and kennels.”  She straightened slightly. He noticed her reaction and corrected himself.  “Let me change that.  You WILL assist Helena.  And she'll need a toilet as well.”  Her face paled.  “As for what you will do here...you've just heard a little of it.  But these things are more for your preparation.  You were purchased with expectations of providing a return on our investment.  How you develop will determine how we might expect to get that return.  You will do anything that you are instructed.  Some of the instruction will teach you how to behave and interact with others here.  Other parts will be to determine how best to utilize you and discover your purpose. To that end both you and we will learn.  It will be more uncomfortable for you.  It will be entertaining for us.  Perhaps even for you.”  He paused and smiled.

“How...how was Helena's name determined?”  She asked.

“From the movie.  'Boxing Helena'.  In that movie the female lead lost her limbs, at least at first.  Here, it isn't a fantasy. You watched her yesterday.  Would you think from what you saw that she is satisfied here?”  He asked Tuesday.

“Yes.  Somehow.  I...I don't understand how.  What she did...did she really have an orgasm?”  Tuesday asked.

“Oh, yes.  She absolutely adores and truly worships her mistress, as do all our acquisitions.  You will too, be assured.  Or you better be deserving of an Academy Award.  We have never had to forfeit an investment. Don't be the first.” He said.

“What do you do here?  To get a return on your investments, I mean.”  Tuesday asked.

“Many things.  Not all returns are monetary.  Though many, if not most; are.”  He thought for a minute. “We host certain individuals for different lengths of time.  Some desire a particular erotic experience.  We aren't a high priced brothel.  Some could consider it so, but it is much more involved than that.  In fact, some of our patrons don't spend a penny of currency...but it is still very expensive when we collect on the bill.   We provide acquisition services; we also provide custom training services for individuals. We occasionally combine an acquisition and training process, usually to specification.  About half of our acquisitions come through an auction. We also acquire individuals who have proven to be… intransigent. These are generally private transactions; the intent is to provide a more thorough training practice and then when they are proven to be successfully trained, to place them in other settings at a profit.  We have misjudged the individuals in a few instances.  These examples typically end up in the pleasure industry, in obscure areas where there are great language differences.  Southeast Asia, for example.  If the individual is mute and sightless she is much more malleable.”  He shrugged.  She shuddered.  “Not all investments are winners. That’s the nature of any business.”

“What did you have in mind for me?”  She asked. “A specific placement?”

“You are a most unusual acquisition.” He said, his fingers forming a steeple.  “Most of the individuals are much younger.  I believe in your previous life you were a licensed professional?” He asked.  She nodded.  “Those qualifications are irrelevant now, of course. You’re dead. But they do demonstrate your intelligence and mental competence.  That provided a certain cachet for you.  Your selection of your profession was based on certain cerebral passions.  Your future activities will be driven by more physical passions…and reactions.  Your mistress was intrigued by your beauty and past activities.  And that you volunteered.”  She looked at the floor.

“I deconstructed my life.”  She began. “I had help…you could say someone pushed me along.  But I could have stopped it.  At least I could have at one point.”  She sighed and looked at him. “Then I realized it was too late.  By then I didn’t want to stop.  I threw away my marriage; my profession…finally my family.  My life.”  She paused.  “Sir, may I ask my mistress’s name?”

“You may ask anything.  You won’t always get an answer.  Her given name is Christine.  I doubt that you will get a chance to call her anything other than ‘Mistress’ for quite a while.”  He answered.  She just nodded.  “She has some ideas for you.  We will have to see how you react to your initial training.

Some of our services are delivered out of house.  Insuring secure transport is expensive and tedious; so that happens infrequently.  But it does happen.  The instructional events are recorded.  The recordings are utilized in various ways, including for training other places. Pain, like sex, sells.  As does humiliation, I might add.  You were quite popular before.  I expect you will be popular again.  Unfortunately, none of your previous partners will be able to sample any of your newly learned skills.  They will not even recognize you; should they happen to see a recording.” 

Tuesday looked first startled, then frightened at this. If these people could amputate a woman's arms and legs and turn them into furniture, how might they render her unrecognizable?

“Relax.”  Charles told her. “We aren't going to disfigure you.  Unless you request it; and even then I would seriously doubt it.  Your beauty is one of the reasons you were acquired.  You are certainly quite beautiful.”  He glanced down at her legs and back to her breasts before returning to look into her eyes. “Cosmetic surgery is not anticipated.”  Tuesday relaxed a bit. “There are other ways to hide your identity.  I haven’t seen any unusual birthmarks or tattoos. The recordings are certainly not mass marketed.  Many are a bit too esoteric for local mores. Even if someone were to figure out your old identity, they would be fellows within our circle of...acquaintances.  The one thing to concentrate on is to learn to achieve the same level of enjoyment that you used to know at the new levels of...discomfort...that you will experience here.  You seemed to enjoy pain. And rough sex. We will provide plenty of both. That goes for your other passions as well.  I watched you hang from your breasts.  Also being drowned.  Did these things arouse you?”  She stared at nothing, remembering, thinking.

“No...and yes.  They were very... extremely...painful.  After it was over I discovered that I was wet.  But I didn't realize it during the experience.”  She answered.

“You're a natural.  That might make it easier for you to learn. You should hope so.  It doesn't matter to your instructors, of course.  They will follow the curriculum.  Regardless.”   He replied.  And then he smiled and stood.  As he rose the door opened and The Roscoes stepped in.

“May I walk, please? Sir?”  She asked Charles.  He grinned.

“Yes.”  He looked up at the two huge men before him.  “Let her walk.  She might be a tad sore after your welcome.”  The almost giants looked amused.

“I'll bet she almost enjoyed it.”  One opined.

“Maybe she'll enjoy the next one even more.”  The other offered.  She was amazed that even their voices seemed identical.

“I must be getting soft.  Or maybe because she's so lovely.  She used to enjoy it rough so give her a chance to enjoy the next one.  We'll see.”  Charles directed. “This one is different from the usual.  Don’t damage her.  Her Mistress would be unhappy.  She isn’t fragile…so abuse her.  Just don’t break her.”

“Yes, Sir,” One of them answered.  The other took her firmly but carefully and unlocked one of the cuffs and put her hands back behind her.  He bent her arms up toward her neck and the other turned her collar around so that the ring was at the back.  He pushed the loop through the cuff and locked it, forcing her hands into a reverse prayer position.  The manner of fact way that he did it started her wetness flowing.  As they turned her she looked back at the man behind the desk. She smiled at him.

“Thank you, sir.”  She said.

“You're welcome.”  Was his reply.

Chapter 6

“You may look up.  But don’t look into anyone’s eyes.  Understand?”  One of the Roscoes told her.  They were standing outside of the closed office door.  The attitude had changed slightly.

“Yes, sir,” She answered.

“I’m Joseph; Master Joseph, that is.  The little guy is Master John.”  She looked at them both, avoiding looking into their faces.  She seemed confused.

“Joe is an eighth of an inch taller than I am.   But my cock is bigger.”  Master John said, grinning.

“By a millimeter. Big deal.” Joe responded.  “Maybe we’ll blindfold her and see if she can tell the difference.”  Tuesday began to feel her mutinous pussy start to betray her and start dripping.  “Want to try?”

“Thank you, Master Joe.  Yes. Please.”  She replied.  Both men grinned at each other.

They proceeded down the corridor, Joe - (or was it John?) led the way.  The man following her admired the shape and tightness of her buttocks, the way they swayed slightly and the smooth curve of her thighs.  Her legs moved gracefully on slender ankles.  He noticed her fingers curling and uncurling as her hands writhed within the cuffs.  The hinged cuffs were chosen both for their security as well as their “comfort”.  The edges were rounded, not sharp; still the metal was unyielding, pressing into her wrists.  Her shoulders bunched and twitched; biceps and triceps straining.  

“How long it will it take to stretch her enough so that her elbows as well as her wrists will touch?”  He mused to himself.  “That will really make those beautiful tits stand out.”   They stood out quite proudly now.  He dipped his head to get a look at her sex as she walked.  He could see the flesh was shining from moisture; with his head bent over he could smell a faint wisp of her aroma. “Hopefully she won't go off the deep end, like the other one did.”  He thought.  “Those legs are gorgeous.  That would be such a fucking waste.  We're going to enjoy this cunt.”

Two minutes after the Roscoes escorted Tuesday away, the door to the office opened.  Charles looked up as the tall graceful figure slipped in and closed the door behind her.  The blonde hair fell to her shoulders, the incredible blue eyes danced over a bemused smile.  Royal blue leather stretched across full, high breasts; the broadly displayed cleavage a valley of hidden delights.  The leather continued down over tight hips and long, trim legs; ankle boots with three inch heels completed the ensemble.  With the heels she was six feet, one; an inch shorter than Charles.

“Hello M'love.”  Charles greeted her. “How's the morning so far?”  He reached around and pressed a button hidden under the top of the credenza.  The covert recording equipment shut down. 

“Fine. I thought I'd stop by and see how the initial interview went.”  Christine said. She stepped around to the side of the desk as he stood up.

“Didn't you watch?”  He asked.

“Of course.  I want to get your perception.  Did we choose well?  Will she work out?” Christine inquired.

“You mean, 'did you choose well?'.  I just paid the bill.  But I think so.  She is beautiful.  And intelligent.  She's aware of things. A large difference from most of the young tarts we've had through here. I think we'll enjoy her.  Might even make a buck or two.”  He replied and smiled.

“How are things going, financially?”  She asked.

“Okay.  She will impact the bottom line for the month.  No big deal.  Now what is a big deal is how my cock feels after being in the room with her.  That woman is hot!  Time for an interest payment on my investment.”  He grinned at her. 

“You can put it on my tab.”  She said grinning back.

“Nope. I'm going to put it in your mouth.”  He responded.

She moved back around to the front of the desk while he retrieved some chains and manacles from the file cabinet.  He slipped the leg cuffs around her ankles and she knelt, placing her hands behind her.  The wrist cuffs were installed.  A short chain connected the wrists and ankles, keeping her in place.  Charles pulled the chair over in front of the lovely woman, dropped his trousers and then sat.

“My, sir, what a big cock you have!”  Christine teased, smiling.

“The better to fuck your throat with, my dear.”  He returned.  He offered his cock to her lips.  She moved toward him, opening her mouth just enough to grasp him snugly with her lips; then keeping her eyes locked on his, began a slow in and out motion on his cock.  Her mouth slipped almost off the head, then moved forward to cover a little more.  Back, but not as far as before, then a bit deeper.  She continued the stroking until her lips touched his belly, her eyes never leaving his.  When her lips reached bottom she stopped.  He sighed.  She began her trip in reverse, until she got to the tip.  She opened her mouth wider and grinned at him.

“Do you enjoy this as much as I do?”  She asked.

“Maybe.  Keep doing it and I'll let you know.”  He answered.  She grinned at him and repeated her reciprocating oral voyage down his cock.  As she finished her fourth trip she gave the head a strong suck and, still looking into his eyes said:

“Please.  Fuck me.  Fuck my throat.  Like the Roscoes would.  Please.”

“If I were equipped like them, I could.  Of course you'd never be able to speak again. Your larynx would be somewhere down around your asshole.”  He quipped.

“Mmmmm.  It might be worth it.”  She replied.

“Not to me.”  He answered and grasped her head with his hands.  He firmly held each side of her head and pulled her mouth down on his cock.  His actions sped up, he thrust his hips into her mouth as he pulled her to him.  She maintained her suction on the cock; her cheeks hollowing with each retraction.  Her tongue swirled around the shaft; around the head when he pushed away far enough for her tongue to reach it.  He continued; his cock sliding into her throat until his belly touched her lips, his scrotum rocking against her chin. She thrilled at having her face fucked like this; being used as an objet’ d’lust. He gazed into her eyes and smiled.  He blew her a kiss and winked.  She returned the wink, still maintaining a suction on his cock. At last he began to shudder, bending down to put his cheek on the top of her head.  His first shot went down her throat without her tasting it, the head of his cock well into the tunnel of her throat.  He pulled back after the first one to deposit the rest of his semen on her tongue.  She loved the taste and texture of it; a thrill went down to her wet cunt.  He raised up slowly and watched her mouth as she worked her tongue around, opening her mouth to show him her prize.  She closed her mouth and her eyes, swallowing.

“Mmmm. Yumm.  My favorite snack.”  She said opening her eyes and returning her gaze to his. She smiled as she said it.  “I get so wet when we do that.  I'm wearing a thong with an extra thick crotch today.  I'll have to find a likely candidate to suck it dry.”

“Make sure it's recorded.  But, no cumming until later.  I want you hot and bothered tonight!”  He told her.  She pouted and stuck her lower lip out at him.

“For that, then, you'll get your pussy licked at least three times today.  A minimum of an hour apiece.  Recorded.  If you cum I'll lock a chastity belt on you and whip you for a few hours.  And then the belt stays on for another day.  Then, MAYBE, I'll let you cum.”  She stuck her lip back in. 

“Yes, sir.  You can be so mean.  Thank you.  I'll be hotter than a volcano tonight.”  She said, a bit more deferentially.   He grinned at her.

“You love being teased.  You love the tension of holding it back.  And I love doing it to you as much as you love getting it.  Tonight, if you behave yourself, I'll fuck your lights out.  Obey.”  He stood and pulled up his pants; then stepped behind her to release her from her bonds.  He assisted her to her feet and kissed her cheek.

“Your breath smells like semen.”  He said, smiling.

“Delicious!” She smiled back.

“Where are you off to now?”  He asked.

“I'm going to see if Helena has been enjoying the snack I gave her yesterday.”  She replied.

“Think she's swallowed, yet?”  He inquired.

“I doubt it.  She loves to show it to me and then makes a big display of swallowing and cleaning the inside of her mouth with her tongue.”  She gave a little shiver.  “That woman loves her subservience.  I'll give her something to wash her mouth out with as well.  I'll record it, of course.  Would you like for her to give me my first hour?  She would love it.  May she cum, though?”

“Yes, to both.  We'll watch it this evening while you suck my cock again.”  She blew him a kiss as she left the room. He sighed as he made his way back behind his desk.

Chapter 7

Joe led the way to a large room that could only be described as a torture chamber.  It wasn’t dark; nor was it dank.  No torches on the wall. Instead it was well lit, clean, organized; with polished terrazzo floors.  But… the apparatus clearly demonstrated its’ purpose.  X Crosses, sharp edged horses, padded whipping benches, racks – multiple – one in the form of an arch with strange accessories underneath.  A variety of hoists and pulleys dangled chains and cables.  Some of the cables were finished with loops such as she had already experienced; others held hooks or carabiners.  Stocks of various configurations were intermingled.   The lighting was bright but diffuse.  Cameras hung from brackets attached to the ceiling.  Cabinets along the wall hid the tools; several rolling carts were lined up awaiting use.  Some of the components looked to be modular for multiple applications.  Tuesday had never imagined some of the equipment she saw; how they might be used raised her level of apprehension.

She stood between them, hands secured behind her back, attached to her collar.  Master John – or was it Master Joseph? – reached out and gently grasped her left breast at the base.  His fingers were extended to cover the entire globe.  Even as large as her breasts were, his hands were big enough to encompass it.  He began to bring his fingers together, squeezing the flesh into a cone.  She could not comprehend how one hand could apply the amount of pressure she was feeling.  He started slowly to give her time to adjust; within two minutes the adjustment was over and tears formed at the corners of her eyes.  Then the other Master duplicated the move one her right breast.  Without them even revealing a strain she felt herself being lifted from the floor.  She was soon dangling from their fingers by her breasts.  She rolled her head back and moaned.  She couldn’t tell which was worse – the compression of her breasts or the feeling that they were being torn from her chest.

She felt the floor again with her toes, she hadn't realized they had lowered her. She straightened her head again, her eyes filled with tears.  Joe knelt down and removed her ankle chains and grasped one ankle, pulling her legs farther apart. He ran a fingertip along the folds of her pussy; the lips parted and a strand of drool dripped down.

“Hmm.  Enjoyed that, eh?” He inquired.  She nodded her head, eyes closed. Maybe you'll enjoy this as well.  Maybe not, though.  But we will.”  He walked over to a wall cabinet and removed a spreader bar and a set of suspension cuffs.  John moved her to stand under one of the ceiling cables.  He picked her up effortlessly and turned her upside down.  Joe attached the cuffs to her ankles and then to the bar.  They lifted her up and clipped the spreader bar to the cable.  He clipped another cable to an ankle to prevent her from spinning. Her wrists were released and reconnected to a ring inset into the floor. The two men stepped over to another cabinet to select their toys.

Joe selected a two foot long tawse, John a slender fiberglass cane.  They walked back, Joe stood at her front, John at her back and slightly to the side.  Simultaneously the tawse came briskly down on her pussy while the cane struck the junction of her thighs and buttocks.

“Ohhh!”  She gasped, twisting slightly.  Another set of blows landed; again, together.  Another gasp.  The next blows caught her breasts and shoulder blades, the tawse sweeping across first one direction, then the other.  The cane left two lines an inch apart across her back. 

“These guys have been practicing.”  She thought.  She could feel her clit begin its’ rebellious swelling.  Her nipples also responded to the touch of the lashes, the areolas puckering and tips extending.  The strokes continued, finding her armpits with both devices, her thighs and calves getting the same treatment.  The impacts grew sharper; the marks brighter.  Her breathing became gasps; she tried to keep from crying out.  Their goal was to hear those cries, and they were not to be denied.  Finally they broke her.

“AAHHH!”  She wailed. And wailed again when they each gave her three swift successive strokes.  They stepped away and Joe returned with a blindfold.

“At last.”  She thought. “Time for the contest.”  But no.  They simply blindfolded her and each picked up a medium length bullwhip.  There were far heavier versions in the cabinet; they didn't want to destroy her.  Just abuse her.  The whipping abuse continued for another thirty minutes.  When they were finished she was covered with stripes and small bite marks from the snapping end of the whips.  A few drops of blood fell from several of the bites.  They put the whips down and stood in front of her.  Her hair was wet from perspiration and tears, copper curls stuck to her forehead and wrapped around an ear. Sweat ran down from her armpits to her elbows.  Joe reached over and spread her puffy labia, dipped in a finger.  He stuck another beside the first; then a third.  When he plunged three deeply into her cunt she grunted.  His fingers came away dripping, he stuck them to her nose and her mouth automatically opened; her tongue began to clean them. 

When Joe decided that his fingers were clean enough he pulled his shorts down and dropped them to the floor.  He had to squat to reach her mouth with his cock.  She felt the cock bump her lips and she opened her mouth.  He pushed his cock to the bottom; her head jerked in response to her gag reflex.  He anticipated her movement, so when she tried to return to her previous position she found her mouth impaled on the cock, her head bent back uncomfortably.  She swallowed; trying to get the cock to enter her throat, to no avail. She choked around the shaft, the head preventing any air from entering her mouth.  She breathed through her nose, but that was difficult with her head bent back and the cock pressing hard against the back of her throat.  After almost a minute that felt like ten she began to shake and he relented, allowing her to swing her head back down and get a breath. Again the cock bottomed out in her mouth, pushing her head yet again.  He continued this game, never giving her a chance to actually render any pleasure, just punishing her with his cock. 

John grew tired of watching this, while Joe just grinned and pushed.  John swatted at Joe's arm and gave him a push. Joe gave a snicker and stepped aside, and then John began the same game.

Tuesday couldn't tell any difference by size, only that this one was dry; but not for long.  Not only was she drooling all over the meat, but her nose also contributed to the mess that was accumulating on her face.  Saliva and snot ran down her cheeks and over the blindfold.  Soon it added to the sweat matting her hair.

“She can't suck a cock worth a shit.”  Joe said.  It was really an unfair statement, since they hadn't actually given her a chance to suck either of them; they just battered her throat with their rams.  Her throat was bruised, her uvula felt like a punching bag.  She was raw from both the punishment and from straining to swallow upside down.  They unfastened her handcuffs from the floor, she felt herself being lifted up and the cables disconnected.  They left the spreader bar on and carried her over to a padded whipping bench and re-fastened her wrists to the floor on the other side. 

Joe rubbed his cock along the slit of her cunt, holding his hand underneath to catch some of her dripping drool.  John stepped in front of her and pulled the blindfold and wiped her face with a warm, wet towel.  John had already lost his shorts and stuck his cock back into her face; this time allowing her to actually lick and suck on his cock.  Joe pushed his cock into her pussy as John's tool entered her mouth.  She had been impaled like this many, many times, but never as fully as she experienced now.  Joe hit bottom quickly and he proceeded to pound her cervix much harder than he had pounded her throat.  She grunted as the cock sent shock waves up into belly, tears formed again and this time ran down toward her mouth.  Joe tired of the lack of the depth of penetration he desired and withdrew from her pussy.  She had an idea of what was next and her expectation was met.  He pressed the head of his cock against her pucker; but rather than just shoving into her he gave her a chance to relax and allow his entrance.  She opened her anus to give him a welcome and the tip slipped inside.  He waited for her to adjust to his girth and began a slow push into her bowels.  “This isn't too bad.”  She thought.  “About like a large fist and forearm.”  He continued his stroking, finally pressing his loins against her butt.

“Another short cunt.”  Joe told John. “When are they going to find us a slut with a cunt deep enough to actually get a good fuck?”  He asked.

“What's the matter?  Tired of sheep?”  John grinned at his partner.  “Helena can take it.  Maybe this one will learn, too.”

“Helena can take all of this cock?”  Tuesday wondered as the cock plundered her ass. “In her pussy? How?  Did they remove her uterus and cervix, too?  She would have to be hollow up to her sternum to handle this pole.”  His assault continued as she sucked and licked.  After what seemed like an hour (it was only thirty minutes) she felt the one behind her – she still didn't know which one it was – to stiffen and to plunge hard against her once, twice, thrice; then hold tight and felt his cock dance and twitch in her ass.

“Ass is nice and tight, though.  Give it a try.”  Joe said.  John withdrew his cock and stepped away. Joe's cock appeared before her face for cleaning, which she dutifully began.

John repeated Joe's action, gathering some of her drool and wiping it over his shaft.  It too, quickly bottomed out in her cunt.  He made sure to contribute to her pain, wanting her to have a long memory of this day whenever she moved or sat down.  He banged away; never tiring of the game. She expected that pissing would be agony for a few days.

Then it was John's cock in her ass.  She was already stretched from her first fucking, so he didn't take as long to warm her up.  He just enjoyed long, deep strokes into her ass, pausing at the bottom before withdrawing and re-plunging into her hole. It wasn't unpleasant; in fact it felt rather nice.  She enjoyed anal and this was a respite from the earlier abuse.  The cock at her mouth was now clean, but since it hadn't been removed she continued her ministrations. Fingers found her clit and pinched it.  First tight enough to hurt, then more of a pulsing and milking.  She felt the pressure build.  Her gaping pussy flooded even more, fluid dripping to the floor; drool hung in long strands as John kept up his rhythm.  His fingers continued his attack when suddenly her breasts were also assaulted.  Joe didn't try to tear them off this time, just squeezing enough to be both painful and pleasurable. His fingers slipped down to her elongated nipples and gave them both a squeeze and a twist; then she was gone.  Her orgasm swept over her; crashing into her mind, racking her body into gasping convulsions.  She jerked again and again; they wouldn't allow her any escape from herself.  After too many climaxes to count she was vaguely aware of John pressing himself hard against her and his crotch bucking against her cheeks.  Joe released her breasts and John pulled out of her ass.  She felt like she was open and hollow up to her lungs.  She lay collapsed on the bench.  After a few minutes John pulled her head up by her hair.  She smelled her ass on his cock; her eyes were still too clouded from her exertion to see. She opened her mouth to finish the job.

It took another ten minutes for her to clean the cock and recover enough to be able to stand.  They helped her to her feet, sans spreader bar, and put the handcuffs back on her.  The collar tether was left off for now.  They cleaned her up, top and bottom with another warm wet towel.

“Dinner time.  You've already had lunch.”  Joe said.

“Thank you, Master Joe, Thank you, Master John.”  She responded.  “I couldn't tell any difference in either your height or your size. I'll have to try again, if it is permitted.”

“Oh, it's permitted.  In fact, it's required.”  Joe answered.  “Maybe next time we'll do a sandwich.  You can be the meat.”

“Sounds like 'pressed ham' to me.”  John added, grinning at her.  She could see their faces, though was careful not to look them in the eyes.

“More like 'roadkill'.”  She replied.