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Chapter 16
The opportunity to acquire the woman now known as Tuesday was an unexpected one; Charles and Christine had no time to formulate a plan of acquisition and transformation. She was quite the rare find – she wasn’t purchased through negotiation and although she was a volunteer for auction, she wasn’t wanted by the police. She was the subject of a missing person’s investigation, but she hadn’t committed a crime. There were certainly people who wanted very much to find her but not for anything the police would be called for. Christine had been enthralled by the redhead’s beauty and poise. Her price wasn’t cheap, but it could turn out to be a bargain. The excerpts from the web site that her prior mentor had put up were also intriguing; the woman who would become Tuesday had become a total slut, her pussy dripped from humiliating scenes, she would endure remarkable agony to have an orgasm. Piss was a delectable beverage to her, she would suck a cock fresh from her asshole, then suck the asshole it was attached to like it was a delicacy. Her pussy seemed hungry for a fist, her asshole equally accommodating. Her cock sucking prowess was astounding.
The website had been restricted and was taken down right about the time she was available for sale. Nevertheless, once something is on the internet, it can almost always be recovered with enough effort and a bit of money. Along with the various audio, video and still photo uploads recovered from the former website, Charles hired an investigator to probe a little deeper into her private associations. People who had enjoyed a rather esoteric relationship with a woman who has just disappeared are usually a bit more forthcoming with an investigator posing as a family hire rather than the police. Interviews with men and women who had sampled, or indeed, feasted on her feminine charms revealed a lifestyle that was remarkable for both her variety as well as her ravenous appetite. She had truly been a sexual gourmand.
The specialty of the facility was in transforming an acquisition into a marketable asset; either through outright sale or through “renting” of the asset’s talents. Videos, of course, also contributed to their value. Tuesday presented a unique challenge. She had already begun transforming herself, now the question became: into what? Christine thought that perhaps her addiction to orgasms could be used to further increase her tolerance and appetite for pain. She had demonstrated her willingness to accept pain to get pleasure; could she be trained to accept pain AS pleasure? She had reveled in displaying herself to her web viewers in scenes most people would consider to be humiliating in the extreme night after night. That, too, could be added to enhance her transition. The key, Christine thought, was to make Tuesday to be not just the object of the transformation, but an active instigator of it as well. She had demonstrated a reluctant participation in causing her own pain in exchange for an orgasm in her prior life. Now it was Christine’s plan to change her reluctance into enthusiasm. Avoiding becoming what Helena was could be used as an impetus and reward. Fear is a tremendous motivator…the prospect of becoming like Helena was terrifying.
In the two years prior to Tuesday’s “death and resurrection” She had awakened to a world of new and exciting (sometimes terrifying) sexual experiences. She had been first encouraged, actually shoved, into the new lifestyle; she had cuckolded a husband and even contaminated her parents, all due to a libido that once awakened had become ravenous.
The shock of her new life had temporarily stymied her addiction to sexual satisfaction, but as she quickly became accustomed to her environs her desires re-emerged. Now sex wasn’t just a demanding adjunct to her life, it was the only reason she existed. But the sexual activities weren’t for her enjoyment, but for others. Just as her first mentor had conditioned her by restricting her orgasms, her new owners wished to continue her torment by controlling the availability of her release. Once again it was to be used as a reward for her own self defilement.
She slept with her wrists shackled to her collar, sometimes in front, sometimes behind. Her fingers were never allowed access to the aching nub at the top of her cunt. She was fitted with a chastity belt that held a cup over that sensitive spot to prevent her from rubbing against anything in her surroundings. The belt allowed complete access to either of her holes, but her cunt would only receive internal stimulation. Her clit was left to starve – almost. Her abusers were careful to stimulate but not over stimulate her “g” spot. Orgasms were to be desired but denied until the reward was earned.
Tuesday first met the Toymaker when she was first fitted for her clitoral chastity belt. She was led by the Roscoes into Lady Beth's little chamber of horrors; where she went for pussy and ass exercises. She was led in, Lady Beth strapped her down onto the exam seat; then left.
“Good morning.” A man of medium height and slim build addressed her. “How are you this morning?” He asked.
“Quite well, thank you sir.” Tuesday replied, not looking at the man. Her peripheral vision was all she trusted to see him.
“I'm known as “The Toymaker. Some people simply refer to me as TM. Some slip up and call me Tim. That is not my name.” He told her. She continued to look down. “This will be a different experience for you. By the way, you may look at me when I am with you. In fact, I insist on it.” She looked at him in surprise. “I will not be directly participating in your training...but I will be enjoying the fruits of those labors. I am an administrator of your...transition.”
The Toymaker pulled a rolling stool up between her legs and put a large briefcase on a short table within easy reach. He sat down and began examining Tuesday, starting with her feet and toes, working carefully all the way to her pussy. She watched as he examined her, touching her skin, pinching lightly, scratching at small bumps and bruises. He occasionally looked up at her and smiled. He spread her labia apart, stretching each one to see how far they would go before the skin started to turn white from the stretch. She didn't say anything; didn't make any sounds of discomfort. Nothing he was doing was significantly painful. He opened the briefcase; the lid blocked her view of the contents. He picked up some type of instrument and began gently probing at her pussy, opening it and moving the labia around. His expression was one of a child with a new toy or perhaps a pet. He glanced up at her and said:
“You may speak freely to me...respectfully of course. Sort of an informal “invitation”. Master Charles and Mistress Christine are a bit more reserved. If you ask questions that they find tedious or invasive they may simply cut the “invitation” short. I, on the other hand, have things I need to do or ascertain and will continue. I have other ways of redirecting the conversation.” With that Tuesday felt a sharp point jab her clit, not terribly hard, but enough to make her jump; especially since it was unexpected. “Understand?” He asked. At first she nodded; she had looked away when he poked her. “UNDERSTAND?” He asked again and gave her another poke. She jumped again, but not as much. Her eyes instantly found his.
“Yes, sir. I understand.” She answered him.
“Good.” He grinned at her. “I was testing your reflexes. They seem to work. It's more fun this way than banging your knee with a rubber mallet. I have those, too.” She watched him as he continued to stretch and prod. He picked up a set of digital calipers and a forceps. He measured her clit, pulling the hood back, pulling the nub out gently, twisting it slightly, and pulling it back and forth. He measured it in many different positions. He proceeded to measure everything between her legs in every direction she could imagine. His case contained a variety of instruments and devices; most of them she had never seen before and had no idea what they were for. All measurements were carefully noted in a notebook. She watched as he picked up a urethral sound, lubricated it and introduced it to her small opening. It slipped in easily, surprising her at the lack of any discomfort. He withdrew it and smiled at her as he picked up a larger one. This one too went in without much discomfort. The next one met resistance and she winced at the intrusion. He made a note in his book. The Toymaker picked up an unusual speculum, lubed it and put into her pussy. It had a dial on it, a linkage to each side.
“Squeeze down on this.” She bore down, he made a note. “Again. And hold it. Again. Again.” Each time he noted how much pressure she was able to exert on the device and how long the pressure lasted until it waned. He was working on a computer connected version, but it wasn’t ready yet. He had her do this ten times. Lady Beth would be interested in the results.
A conventional speculum gave him access to her cervix. Again he measured and probed. He took a small smooth probe and pushed it into the opening of her cervix. She tensed at the intrusion. He probed again, going deeper. The probe widened along its length, opening the cervix as he pushed. She grunted after a moment.
“Hurt when I do this?” He asked, pushing the probe in further.
“A little. I feels strange.” She answered.
“Mmm hmm.” Was all he said.
Next, he measured her anus for stretch, gazing into the opening as if searching for a precious jewel, turning the adjusting screw on the speculum until the opening gaped obscenely. He removed it and then stood and walked around to look down at her.
“I'm not necessarily going to do anything to deliberately cause you pain. Maybe some things will cause discomfort. My job is not to hurt you; that’s’ up to Lady Beth or the Roscoes or some other people. What I do may be uncomfortable occasionally. That's all. I evaluate. I'll also take some pleasure. Sometimes when I do that, it may be uncomfortable. And I will like that. You might, too. That's part of the objective. You are a most incredibly beautiful woman. I thought so the first time I saw you, four or five years ago.” At this bit of news Tuesday stiffened. Her eyes widened in astonishment. “No, you haven't met me. In my previous life, well actually I still have part of my previous life; I worked in the aerospace industry. To a much smaller extent I still do. You and your team came through my company on an observation visit prior to designing a new facility. I was experiencing some...difficulties...of a personal nature. My partners and I decided that it would be a good idea for me to reduce my profile in the company a bit. Not long after that I left my position and later arrived here. I also met your old mentor briefly. A real estate thing: marketers and investors, buyers and sellers. I later obtained the password to your website as well.” He watched her reaction. She blushed and squirmed, to his satisfaction. “You’re blushing. I’m surprised, considering the things that you've done before an audience. You seemed reluctant the first time you sucked the cock of a Great Dane…but you looked like you enjoyed it shortly after you got started. The audience also looked like they enjoyed it. Except for the older couple. I take it that they weren’t into sex shows? Or just not into doggy sex?” Tuesday blushed even more as she shook her head “no”. She remembered the night vividly. The Toymaker enjoyed refreshing her humiliation. He was a stranger to her, yet he knew of her “secrets”, if one who had performed on-line for thousands could have such secrets. “I didn’t know that Christine was bidding on you until it was over. You have no idea how delighted I was when I found out. I enjoyed watching you on-line. I’m going to enjoy you more in person.”
Tuesday had started dripping soon after he had begun manipulating her pussy, now her opening gaped and poured. Her musk was redolent in the air. The Toymaker stuck two fingers into the hole and scooped out some of her lubricant and spread it over her asshole then plunged the fingers inside. He spread them apart and sawed them in and out, back and forth; testing the resiliency. He was going to enjoy using that hole. While doing this he asked her:
“You got used here a lot before. I know you've taken fists. How do you like the Roscoes back here?” His question was meant to reinforce her discomfort. It made her all the wetter.
“They…they are…big. It hurts. Sometimes if I’m really excited it’s a good hurt. But it still hurts. I’ve never seen men that big. They're bigger than the hands I was used to.” She answered.
“Lady Beth will get you used to them. If you don’t get used to them…then it will just hurt.” He informed her. He smiled at her, but it wasn’t really a friendly smile. More like carnivorous.
The Toymaker got up and pulled the table around with him as he moved up to her chest. He lifted her beautiful breasts one at a time, squeezing, pulling, pinching. She couldn’t tell if he was doing it for examination purposes or because he just liked it. Actually, it was both. He could have been gentler...but where was the fun in that? He measured each breast, each nipple, and each areola. He twisted the nipples, pulling and stretching, measuring all the while. He made notes in a notebook on each dimension. He laid her down flat then used a scale attached to a toothed alligator clip fastened to her nipple to determine how much force it took to stretch each breast. He compressed them and measured the force necessary to obtain the greatest flattening. She felt like she was having the mammogram from hell.
Finally he seemed to be finished; he raised her back up and returned to the stool between her legs. The flow hadn’t abated. He had placed a small bowl under her ass to catch the drool. He sat it aside and moved closer to her pussy. Since she had come fresh from the shower she was clean; at least as clean as she could be after leaking at least a cup of juice into the bowl. Her fragrance was intoxicating. He pulled her labia apart and looked at her as she watched him. He grinned, this time lasciviously. He leaned in and licked her clit twice before capturing it with his lips, pulling and flicking it with his tongue. She stiffened again, pushing against the straps, trying to put more of her pussy into his mouth. She pressed her head back against the headrest and clenched her eyes shut. He nipped her clit with his teeth.
“LOOK at me!” He ordered. “Always look at me!” Her eyes snapped open. “You do NOT have permission to cum. Understand?” She nodded and muttered through clenched teeth
“Yeesss…yes…sir.” Moisture broke out on her forehead and upper lip. He licked again and sucked some more. He felt her start to shake and he stopped. He picked a small hand towel from his case and wiped his mouth. He stood and walked around to her head and looked carefully at her. Her eyes were glazed; perspiration covered her face and chest. She looked up at him.
“Sir?” She asked.
“Yes?” He replied.
“May I…may this…slave suck your cock?” She inquired. He smiled and unfastened his belt and pants, pushing both his slacks and boxers down to the floor. His cock was rigid. Until her arrival and meeting the Roscoes she would have considered him to be large. Now, he was not so impressive. Still, he wasn’t small. He stepped closer to her and she stretched her neck to reach him with her tongue and lips. She sucked him into her mouth, taking him all the way until her lips reached his abdomen. She swallowed and worked her tongue against the underside of his shaft, sucking hard. He felt like she was going to pull him inside out. It was an interesting feeling. He stood for a few minutes; then he pulled up another taller stool and let the back of her chair back down. He returned to her mouth.
“Sir…may I enjoy you for a while?” She asked.
“Probably not as long as either of us want. But we’ll do this again. Many times again.” He answered. She smiled at him.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll try to make it last.” She proceeded to work more slowly, moving her head, working her tongue and lips. She nibbled on the head and swirled her tongue around it, then plunged her mouth down, taking it into her throat. He had never had a better blowjob. Not even close. She fucked her throat with him, finally he could resist no more. He thrust into her throat and spasmed, blowing spurt after spurt down her gullet. She never had the chance to taste it. As he pulled out she licked and sucked the last few drops and licked her lips.
“Thank you, sir. I enjoyed that.” She told him.
“Then that makes two of us.” He grinned at her. He stepped back to the bowl on the table and picked it up. “Open wide.” He told her. She didn’t know why he asked, but she did as she was told. He tipped the bowl and poured the thick, slimy liquid into her mouth. “Down the hatch.” He told her. She swallowed, watching his eyes. She licked her lips and smiled back at him. She was going to be a LOT of fun!
Chapter 17
The Toymaker put away his tools, closed the briefcase and gave her pussy a sharp spank. “I’ll see you in a while. Lady Beth has a few things to do now.” He smiled widely at her and winked. She pursed her lips and blew a kiss at him. She hadn’t had an orgasm, but it had been enjoyable. She was literally quivering with desire.
The Lady Beth came back in and sat on the stool between her legs.
“Whew!” She exclaimed. “Your name is wrong. It should be Lucy. As in Juicy Lucy.” Tuesday blushed yet again. “I know that the Toymaker can be fun but you must have had a blast.” The reddening deepened. Lady Beth was enjoying this; it was part of the conditioning. “You are a much bigger slut than we had anticipated. We knew that you would fuck anything, anywhere, anytime, but I had no idea you juiced up like this. Did you ever accost men on the sidewalks and demand to suck their cocks?”
“No...no Mistress. Never. I was always told where to go and whom to fuck. Or they came to see me. But I could never refuse. Then again, I never wanted to. Once I had been...converted, you might say, I enjoyed it immensely.” Tuesday answered. “I love it.”
“That's fine. But here you have to earn it. Or face the consequences.” She looked at Tuesday, who wasn't looking back, as ordered. Her face showed her reaction to the “consequences”. “Good.” Thought Lady Beth. The Lady Beth turned to a young house slave who had accompanied her into the chamber. The girl, in her twenties, had been silently standing by, watching.
“Towel.” Lady Beth said to the girl, who quickly fetched a towel for her mistress. Lady Beth wiped the spread open pussy before her, scrubbing around the clit, pulling back the hood and cleaning around the nub. She noticed Tuesday close her eyes and bite her lip.
“NO orgasms. Understood?” The Lady directed. Tuesday nodded.
“Yes, Mistress.” She replied.
“Piercing kit.” The Lady said to the slave. The girl scurried off to a cabinet and returned with a wide plastic box. Tuesday looked startled and watched as the Lady Beth set the box on the same table that the Toymaker had used and began to put on a pair of latex gloves.
“I know you're not latex sensitive. I saw you fuck yourself with a variety of rather large toys on screen. After those things I don't know why you complain about the Roscoes.” She told the bound woman, sorting through some of her tools. She wiped the labia with a betadine sponge, waited and then wiped most off with an alcohol soaked wipe. She picked up a sterile marker with one hand and stretched out the labia with the other, examining both sides. Four marks were made on each lip, the forceps applied and the piercing needle was pressed through. Bars were inserted into the piercings. “I'll start stretching these later. She picked up an alcohol swab and cleaned the top of Tuesday's pussy, wiping all over the clit, then picked up another and wiped the inside of the area between the hood and the clit itself. “Now for the fun part.” Lady Beth adjusted the legs even wider, spreading Tuesday until she felt her hips about to pop. She picked up a pair of looped forceps and applied them to the upper section of the clitoral hood. She then picked up a long, hollow piercing needle and spoke again to Tuesday.
“This will sting. Enjoy it.” She said. Lady Beth pulled the hood up, stretching it away from the clit. The point of the needle was placed under the clit, above the urethra. She pushed the needle through the flesh, hearing the muted gasp and hiss of air between clinched teeth. The point of the needle passed deep, through the root of the clitoris, eliciting a short scream from Tuesday. Tears began flowing down her cheeks. The point appeared, poking under the skin above the top of her pussy. Another push and it popped out. Tuesday released the breath she had been holding with a rush. A curved bar with a ball attached went through the hole and another ball screwed onto the end.
“It's called an “Isabella” piercing. It goes through the shaft of the clitoris, deep inside. That's why it stings. This bar is smooth. I'm not going to use the rough one until the piercing heals.” The Lady Beth told her. The Lady put the forceps on either side of the clitoral hood, inside the inner labia. The pinching was tight against the crease. She secured the forceps, drawing another hiss from Tuesday. Gloved hands picked up a shorter curved hollow needle. The point was pressed against the tender flesh and slowly pushed deep inside, producing a deep hood piercing. The needle went close enough to the bar already inserted to rub it, which is what she wanted. She inserted the point of a ring into the point and followed the needle back through. Spreading pliers held the ring while a ball was screwed on. Blood flowed freely from the deep piercings; the ring and bar could rub against each other when they were moved. Lady Beth paid little concern, simply picking up pairs of alcohol soaked pads and pinching the flesh between them. The pressure forced alcohol into the fresh wounds. Tuesday stiffened and moaned slightly, her lips drawn tight across her teeth as she sucked air through the small slit of her mouth. More pads were required to finally stem the flow. Lady Beth picked up a small box of styptic powder and sprinkled it around the ring and bar where they passed through the flesh. She moved the table around to the upper end of the chair and drew up the stool that the Toymaker had enjoyed.
The Lady Beth wiped out the navel; first with a pad, then with a soaked ball and the forceps. The looped forceps pinched the top of the navel and soon the dimple was adorned with jewelry.
Tuesday watched as the Lady Beth held the right breast, squeezing it and manipulating it such as the Toymaker had done. She produced a small ruler and laid it across the nipple, measuring the width of the areola. She then wiped the area with another alcohol pad and carefully made a spot on either edge of the areola, marking the position for a horizontal piercing. Again the forceps were applied, this time a larger gauge needle was selected. As the point was placed against the dark pink skin, Tuesday accidentally looked into Lady Beth's eyes as the Lady looked into hers. The Lady grinned at her and began to slowly push the needle through. The Lady looked down to be sure that she was pushing the needle straight across. She took her time, knowing that it would hurt all the more. As the point reached the other side the skin began to stretch, showing the point. Lady Beth paused, savoring the pain that she was causing before increasing the pressure enough to break through.
“Uhhh...” Tuesday moaned, and bit her lower lip. A large ring was installed and the Lady pulled the table around to the other side. Tuesday watched, knowing what to expect.
“Would you prefer that I do this one fast, or slow?” The Lady asked.
“Fast, please, Lady Beth.” Tuesday responded.
“You wish!” Lady Beth grinned at her. Tuesday caught the grin out of the corner of her eye. She wasn't surprised. The process was repeated, even slower this time. The pain certainly wasn't as bad as the “Isabella”, but it was the anticipation and the tensing before the actual piercing that amplified the pain. As the ring was secured Lady Beth noticed another tear trickle from the corner of each eye.
The Lady Beth returned to the stool at the juncture of the beautiful thighs and noticed that the piercings had completely stopped bleeding. She used a sterile wipe to clean up and began unstrapping her victim.
“Time for exercises.” She told Tuesday. “Sheila here will run them today. She will tally up all infractions. I'm sure there will be some. Then she will lead you through a series of other exercises and some yoga. We want your body to be in excellent physical condition. And it should especially be extremely limber. Flexibility will be critical. Can you lick your own cunt?” She asked Tuesday. The woman shook her head. “Well, we'll see if we can improve on that. It's a rare talent; one that many people like to watch. You've been watched before by many, it will be something new to add to your repertoire. The Roscoes will see to your punishment later. Then you'll have another visit from the Toymaker. You have a busy day ahead of you.” The Lady Beth turned to her slave assistant:
“You know the regimen?” The girl nodded, looking down as always. “Then proceed. If she bleeds, spray the area with the alcohol bottle. If it persists, use the styptic powder until it quits. While you're waiting for it to quit she can suck on your cunt. You have permission to cum...she doesn't. Don't leave her alone. If you need to piss, use her mouth; she likes it. In fact, do it anyway.” With that the Lady Beth took a collar, locked it around Tuesday's neck and locked it to a thin stainless steel cable hanging from the ceiling. The cable ran up to a pulley mounted on the ceiling then over to another at the wall, then down to an electric winch at waist level. A remote control allowed enough slack to reel out so that Tuesday had enough to move around.
Chapter 18
The girl retrieved the timer and pressure plates and gathered the bowling pins. A white board and marker was setup on an easel close by. The alligator clips were attached to her nipples vertically, the fresh piercings burned at the abuse. This would provide even more impetus to succeed. The lifting proceeded, only this time her anal sphincter was challenged first. There had been discussions about whether to stretch her rectum until failure, necessitating her always having to wear either a butt plug or a diaper. The humiliation of such a condition was desirable. It was decided however, that for hygienic reasons, as well as the pleasurable accommodation of cocks smaller than that of the Roscoes; that instead she should be trained to grip an anal visitor with the same force as a vaginal one. The Roscoes also preferred that she be kept unbroken. That way they could hurt her more when they enjoyed her ass.
Tuesday passed the first set of lifts with her asshole without demerit. The nipple piercings oozed blood from the pressure of the clips alone. Sheila sprayed them a few times, but they continued to ooze. The pussy lifts were a different story. She had only managed a few lifts when the Isabella and deep hood piercings began to drip. The pain and strain of holding the head of the bowling pin was too much for her. She was doing only an inch lift but the pin slipped to the plate. She sobbed as Sheila made a vertical mark on the board. Sheila went to a cabinet and brought back a long pad. She placed it behind Tuesday's feet and unreeled more slack in the cable.
“Lie down.” She said. Tuesday obeyed then made a mistake.
“How long have you been here?” She asked the slave. Sheila didn't reply. She stepped over to the board and made four more marks next to the first one, crossed all with a diagonal line and drew another crossed block. She stepped back and looked into Tuesday's eyes and said:
“Silence. Unless permitted.” Tuesday paled, understanding what the lines meant. The Roscoes would have some fun today!
Tuesday lay down on her back, trembling with new fear. It wasn't just about the next punishment but what it might lead to. Sheila sprayed, paused and then wiped the bleeding areas. She applied pressure for a few moments, then gave up and wiped them dry and sprinkled styptic powder generously over the piercings. She then knelt down, straddling Tuesday's head facing her feet and spread her own labia.
“Open.” She said. When Tuesday opened her mouth and tipped her head back Sheila filled the cavity with urine. “Flush.” She told Tuesday. Tuesday blushed and complied, reopening her mouth. Another fill, another flush. “Wipe.” Tuesday licked the opening clean. “Tongue fuck me first.” She felt the tongue slide into her, watching the piercings to make sure that the bleeding was diminishing. Tuesday tasted the slickness emanating from the girls pussy. Sheila certainly didn't flow like Tuesday but her volume increased as the tongue laved and probed. She enjoyed sucking a wet pussy almost (but not quite) as much as sucking a hard cock. There wasn't usually a sudden reward at the end like a man produces; but at least she got to slurp all along.
The bleeding had stopped so Sheila turned around and looked down into Tuesday's eyes.
“Make me cum. But not immediately.” She instructed. Tuesday began to nibble and suck at the clitoris over her mouth. She smiled up into the pretty face above her, watching as Sheila straightened up and thrust her pussy harder against her mouth. Tuesday stopped and just licked the bud very slightly; enough for Sheila to know that she hadn't quit, but not enough to get her over the edge. Sheila's knees spread out a little more, settling hard on Tuesday's face, pinning the head firmly to the pad. That was fine with Tuesday. She enjoyed being the captive, forced to suck, having no other choice but to pleasure this pussy on her face, either swallowing or drowning. She took her time, drawing as much pleasure from the act as she was giving. Her fingers found their way to the bar of the Isabella, Sheila not able to see what the fingers were doing. Each touch felt like lightning. The ring produced similar sensations. The pain was exquisite, like wiggling a loose tooth, but a hundred times more. She couldn't stand to touch it. She couldn't stand not to. Sheila at last shook and came, but as she was recovering she noticed that Tuesday also was shaking. She turned her head and saw what had happened. Tuesday had cum as well.
“SHIT!” Sheila exclaimed, scrambling off of Tuesday's face. Startled, Tuesday put her hands on her sides. Sheila was pissed. She strode back and forth, Tuesday could hear low mutters coming from the slave as she paced. Finally she stopped and went to the board. She drew another crossed block next to the first ones then moved her hand to the other side of the board wrote “Sheila” and under it drew an additional crossed block.
“STAND!” She commanded loudly to Tuesday. Tuesday obeyed, hanging her head. But heavens, it had felt SO GOOD!
Chapter 19
Timing is everything and Sheila's was perfect. Perfectly bad, that is. Because at that moment the Lady Beth arrived. Sheila didn't know that the Lady had been monitoring their activities remotely. She didn't need to know.
“Well. What seems to be going on here?” The Lady Beth asked brightly, knowing all.
Sheila hung her head.
“She came. I'm sorry. I failed you.” Sheila pointed at the board. Fifteen marks on one side, five more under Sheila's name.
“Hmm.” The Lady said. She glanced at the contrite women. “So you have. Looks like the Roscoes are going to have a bunch of fun today!” Sheila and Tuesday both cringed at this news. The Lady turned to Tuesday and said:
“Chair. I want to check the piercings.” Tuesday complied, Lady Beth strapped her down. The areas were once more sprayed with alcohol, and then the Lady found some Betadine swabs and painted her pussy and nipples brown. “It's not very pretty, but it'll wash off eventually. She touched the bar through the clit and Tuesday jumped. “I thought you’d like this. Made you cum, didn't it?” She asked her captive. Tuesday nodded and replied:
“Yes, Mistress.” Tuesday's eyes were closed.
“Have you ever had an orgasm from pain before?” The Lady inquired.
“No, mistress. But this time I was drinking Miss Sheila's cum at the same time. I had never had such an opportunity before.” Tuesday answered. This was music to the Lady's ears.
“You've never felt pain while eating a pussy?” The Lady asked.
“Not like this, Mistress.”
“And this gave you an orgasm?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“What was being done to you the last time you felt pain while eating a pussy?”
“My ass was being cropped, Mistress. It felt very different.” The Lady Beth paused, thinking about this. Perhaps the Mistress Christine had been spot on! The Lady went over to a wall phone and pushed a button. After a minute she said “Time?” She waited for a response. “Okay.” She replaced the handset and walked back over and began to unfasten the straps holding Tuesday to the chair. She turned to Sheila and said:
“Your turn,” pointing at the chair. Sheila pressed her lips together hard and stepped over to the chair and sat down. She placed her legs onto the pads and feet into the stirrups while the Lady strapped her down. She opened the legs wide and pulled the stirrups close, bending her knees. This forced her ass up as well, exposing her cheeks as well as the pucker between. She then pulled a pair of cuffs and a chain from a cabinet and fastened Tuesday's hands behind her back and pulled them up, attaching the chain to her collar. A quick press of the remote and Tuesday found herself standing on tip toe, struggling to breathe.
A moment later the Roscoes appeared. They surveyed the scene and glanced at the board. When they high fived each other, both Sheila and Tuesday paled.
Master Joe stepped over and looked at the girl strapped to the gynecological chair. He examined the straps and position then he leaned the chair further back and grinned at Lady Beth. “Our choice?” He asked her.
“Your choice. Five apiece.” She replied.
“And dessert?” Master John asked.
“Of course.” She answered. Sheila moaned. “Two more apiece.” She snapped at Sheila. The boy’s grins got even bigger. Master John stepped over next to his partner and leaned over to get close to the girl's face. She had to press her chin into her neck to keep from looking at him. He said slowly:
“We've...been...waiting...for...this. You...are...truly...FUCKED!” Master Joe clarified:
“Well. Not YET! But you will be!” They high fived again. Tears started trickling down Sheila's cheeks.
They each picked fiberglass canes from a cabinet and gave them some test swings. Their ominous swishes sizzled through the room.
“Who's first?” John asked.
“Ahh, you're the old man, you go first.” Joe answered. John was two months older.
“Suits me.” Said John as he lined up beside Sheila's right foot. He laid the cane across Sheila's ass, the rod bisecting her anus. He grinned up at his partner then grinned at Sheila. She was looking down, as usual.
“Look at me.” He told her. As she looked into his eyes she saw that they twinkled with devious delight. His eyes never left hers as he swung the cane back sharply, the rod flexing at the return from the backswing, landing precisely on the pucker. Sheila tried to move, to jump, to explode. But all she could do was scream. And she screamed twice more. The Lady bent over to the screaming girl’s ear and said loudly:
“Two more. Apiece.” The scream became a whimper then Sheila began to shake, her eyes clenched shut.
“Look at me.” John said gently. She opened her eyes and saw him cock his head; then she remembered the protocol.
“Thank you, Master John for my correction. Will you please correct me again?” Her tone was pleading, though she really didn't mean it.
“Why, certainly Sheila cunt. My pleasure.” He meant it. He lined up on the same spot. A blister all the way across her ass and through her anus had already formed.
“This one might sting a little. Keep watching me.” He said, amused. It did. She managed not to scream, though the Lady Beth couldn't see how. Sheila's eyes bulged, as did her cheeks. She shook and actually twisted slightly in her straps. She managed to gasp out her request.
“One more for good measure.” She met his gaze, tears pouring down her cheeks. A sizzling swish, a sharp crack and Sheila passed out.
“Tisk, tisk.” John remarked.
A wave of some ammonia salts revived the girl, as she regained her senses she repeated the correction mantra.
“Nicely done. You avoided an extra.” He turned to face the Lady Beth. “I do believe she's learning.” He stepped around in front of her. “Now, that was three. Six left, I believe.” Lady Beth nodded. He lined up the cane on her left labia. He glanced into her eyes and before she could blink the stroke fell. Instantly the labia began to resemble a purple balloon. She sobbed out her request. The right labia came next. She could barely get the mantra past her parched lips. He reached out and pulled the now dry pussy open, spreading the swollen lips to provide access to the soft flesh inside. Everyone knew what was coming. Three of them waited with anticipation. Two waited with dread. He lined up on her clit, sawing the rod back and forth. When he looked into her eyes this time he didn't lift the rod. He slipped it down and gave a full roundhouse swing, landing on the tender bud but not stopping there, but following through so that the full surface of the rod not only compressed the clit into her Mons, but wiped through it, pulling the bud back out. Again, darkness claimed her.
“Follow through. Always follow through. Just like a good golf swing.” He said to nobody in particular. The Lady gave her a few minutes before reviving her. She seemed dazed when she came back around. John stepped up to her side and waited for her to remember her request.
“Certainly my dear.” The rod crashed into both breasts, right across the nipples. The breasts were crushed with the force of the impact. Her breasts were nowhere close to being as large as Tuesday's...but then few women were. A blister rose halfway across both breasts, the nipples bulged unevenly like a pair of lopsided cherries. Before she could speak the last two strokes fell in the exact same spot. She was breathless for a few minutes; finally she said her thanks.
“Damn, boy.” Joe exclaimed. “You took all the best spots first. I'm going to have to hit her even harder just so she'll notice them.”
“Bitch, bitch, bitch. Always complaining. Just do the best you can, young un.” John jibbed at him. Joe didn't draw it out like John had. There wasn't any reason to. He simply wanted to deliver the punishment and start fucking her – their dessert. He delivered his strokes to the same spots as John, pausing for the request, waiting for her breathing to return to normal. He didn't care if she looked into his eyes; he was saving that for later. Sheila passed out twice more. She almost forgot the request once but remembered just in time to avoid extra strokes. She didn't scream, she didn't have enough strength.
After he was finished with Sheila, Joe walked over to where Tuesday was hanging. Lady Beth had loosened the cable slightly when she noticed that Tuesday was turning purple. He put a massive finger under her chin and said quietly:
“Look.” When she looked into his eyes he said “You've got fifteen coming. They are going to hurt.” She trembled under his hand. “Sheila owed us, so we were a little bit rougher than we'll be on you. Just a little. You don't have to thank us. You haven't been trained to that yet. We'll take care of you after we've had dessert. You can clean up after we finish with her.”
“Thank you, Master John.” She said.
“Two more. I'm Joe.” He grinned at her. She slumped onto the cable, punishing herself.
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