 |
|||
|
|
Chapter 20
When Joe turned around he found that the Lady Beth had unfastened the straps securing Sheila to the chair but that she had made no effort to move. She hadn't been told to; she could hardly move anyway.
“John,” Joe asked “Do you think she looks more like a swinger or sandwich meat?”
“Hmm” John responded. “I think she would swing well for a while. Then we could turn her into pressed ham.” Joe grinned at that.
“That'll work for me.” Joe replied. He went over to one of the many cabinets lining the walls and found a swing designed for sex play. It would be play for normal size people. With these two it became punishment. He unpacked the swing and hung it from one of the ceiling hoist hooks. John motioned to Sheila to get up.
“Up and at it. Time for dessert. Well, we're having dessert.” John told her. Sheila gingerly climbed out of the chair and walked slowly over to the swing. She was still a beautiful young woman, but the effects of the canes had temporarily altered her appearance.
Her breasts were already turning several shades of purple. Vivid red streaks ran across her chest from one side to the other. Her nipples were swollen, irregularly shaped bulbs attached to her beasts. Her pussy was also swollen, one labium slightly larger than the other, also decorated with stripes that ran from her asshole and ending halfway to her navel. She was beginning to purple out to her thighs. By tomorrow the tops of her thighs would show purple as well. The larger labium oozed droplets of blood.
She stood while Joe held the straps of the swing open. John picked her up effortlessly and put her into the cradle. The swing was mainly straps with a flexible seat. A spreader bar kept the straps untangled and provided a connection point for the ankle straps. It was a variation of several designs available commercially but the finished design was a creation of the Toymaker. John strapped her wrists to the spreader, adjusted the straps so that her legs were widely spread and her knees drawn up close to her chest. Her head was lowered so that it was at the same height as her cunt and ass. John adjusted the height with a remote control, putting the head of his cock against her cunt and touching the remote buttons until she was just right.
“Wait.” Said the Lady Beth. “She's a bit messy.” She pointed to the blood oozing from her labia. It slid down to her anus where it pooled slightly before dripping to the floor. The pucker resembled a small bagel with a purple ridge that ran across both cheeks and through the middle of the damaged orifice. The Lady Beth retrieved the spray bottle of alcohol and stepped over to the swing. Sheila saw what was coming and held her breath. The Lady Beth peeled each labia back and sprayed the purplish swollen flesh. Sheila jumped with every spray. A rough swipe with a towel elicited a gasp. She pressed the towel hard against the girls mangled crotch for a few minutes. The Lady then found some extra large condoms in a drawer. “Here. I don't need any incidental infections from fucking that cunt you turned into hamburger.” She said holding out a box to Joe. He opened a packet and began to unroll a condom onto his cock. It was a struggle to get them on, it was expected that they would shred several before they were finished. They always did. The Lady held out a large jar of Albolene for lubrication.
“I think you're getting soft, ol... Lady Beth.” Joe grinned at the Lady as he took it.
“Careful, there, BOY!” The Lady grinned back. “I just don't want you doing any more damage than you already have. I expect you'll do some, anyway. You usually do. Just too much of a good thing. Or maybe I should say two good things. Just use plenty.”
Sheila was thankful for at least this bit of kindness. As swollen as she was even with lubricant it was going to be rough. These two were never gentle with her. She had gotten off on the wrong foot with them early and things never got much better. She grimaced as a large handful of the slippery stuff was applied to her crotch. Joe was actually being rather gentle. His massive fingers spread the puffy purple sausages that had been her labia apart and spread the opening, pushing the thick goo inside. Her clit was still lightly oozing blood. When he did the same to her asshole the tears began anew. She knew better than to say anything. It wasn't just the pain of his fingers, but the anticipation of what was to come would be much worse.
“Heads or tails?” Joe asked.
“I'll flip her for it. You call how she lands.” John responded. Sheila stiffened. They might not be joking.
“You're already covered. I'll put one on after I do her head.” John said. Joe shrugged.
Sheila had been struggling to hold her head up when Joe walked over, rubbing the lubricant over his latex clad pole. It resembled a light pink bologna with a reservoir tip. John placed the tip of his cock against her cheek. It was time for the finale of her destruction. She let her head fall back and opened her mouth. Much to her surprise he didn't attempt to strangle her with it, but rather let her lick and nibble. 'Maybe it won't be so bad. Or maybe I'm hallucinating.' She thought. 'It's always hell with these two.' She kept at it, trying to take as much as she could, breathing deeply, waiting for the massive organ to begin it's inevitable attack on her throat. She had experienced this many times; never had either one been able to breach her throat. There would come a point when her air would be shut off by the huge organ; it was just a matter of time. She felt the blunt head of Master Joe's cock bumping against her cunt. He spread her labia apart and pushed directly against her opening. He bumped lightly, letting her swing onto Master John's cock and back against his shaft. He rocked his hips, pushing her forward, letting her pussy bang against his cock head. She was incredibly sore and sensitive. But he didn't push hard, letting her stretch to accommodate his girth. Meanwhile she was trying to accept the head of his partner into her mouth. She opened her mouth wide, swallowed and tried to relax more. She knew that soon her jaw muscles would tire and fight the distension, but for now she was managing to keep up with the flow. John held her hips and started pushing a bit more forcefully against the pussy his cock was trying to enter. She had accepted both of them several times before, though not without some difficulty. The swelling and bruising wasn't helping; they really didn't want to damage her any more than they had to. They could be sadistic bastards when they wanted to be; now wasn't one of those times. The huge head of his cock finally made its’ entrance, he heard her gasp around the mighty shaft in her mouth. He waited then repeated his gentle rocking motion. He made slight progress, but slight was sufficient. Meanwhile John was enjoying the ministrations of her tongue. He knew that attempting to assault her throat was not only a waste of time but would engage the wrath of the Lady Beth. Not that it bothered him...he just didn't need the hassle. She did the best she could with the mass in her mouth. Perhaps if she demonstrated her enthusiasm he wouldn't punish her further. John watched the progress his partner was making in penetrating her pussy. He knew that she couldn't take all of him – they had never found a woman yet who could take all of them completely, not even Helena. He saw that Joe was apparently bumping into her cervix; he could feel a sharp exhale past her lips as she bottomed out on the shaft. Joe was rocking harder now, pushing her up till she almost gagged on the cock in her mouth then slid back onto his cock. She had loosened up enough that the slide back was a smooth motion rather than an incremental step down until the end banged into her cervix as he plunged forward again.
“How about a sandwich?” Joe asked.
“Sure. You want front or back?” John responded.
“I've got her loosened up. Your choice.” Joe said.
“I like it tight.” John answered. He pulled away and started opening a condom wrapper. Joe pulled out and saw that, indeed, he had split the one he was wearing and went for a fresh one as well. Joe lubed up his cock and wiped his hands on a towel. He then released Sheila from her restraints and picked her up. She braced her hands on his arms as his cock again found the swollen opening between her thighs. He walked over to the mat holding her poised over his shaft, wiggling his hips to find the right point of penetration. As he moved into her he knelt down onto the mat and held her up until John could join them. John knelt down behind her and scooted up to press the tip of his cock against her anus. Joe stretched her cheeks apart and bumped her up and down onto the head of the cock trying to gain entrance. As he did so she was bumping her cervix on the cock in her cunt. This did not bode well...it never did. John added more lube onto the swollen pucker and tried again. Joe kept bouncing her; John kept rocking his hips up to meet her as she came down. Her eyes widened and she gasped as his cock made an entrance. The lifting, bouncing and rocking continued. Sheila closed her eyes and the impalement progressed. She had never tried sitting on a traffic cone. She imagined that it would feel like this. At last they were both inside her as far as they were going to go without major surgery.
“Look at me.” Joe told her. She opened her eyes and looked into his. He let go of her hips and let John guide the motion. Joe reached up and started to gently roll her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. If they hadn't been so viciously caned it might have felt good. It didn't. He watched her eyes widen and then narrow as he increased pressure. He could probably crush them like a ripe grape; right now he didn't need to, they were already damaged. He rolled them harder. She moaned slightly and bit her bottom lip. She didn't dare make too much noise. She started breathing hard as tears ran down her cheeks. Her nose was stuffed up; it too, began to run. She had to open her mouth to breathe but was afraid that if she opened it she would cry out. Joe saw her face was turning dark and he eased off on the pressure.
“Lady Beth?” He called out. “How about a little snot control, please.” Sheila blushed but said nothing. The Lady Beth came over with a hand full of tissues and wiped Sheila's nose then held a bunch for her to blow into. The task completed, she stepped away. They hadn't missed a stroke. He continued to torment her nipples - rolling, pinching, twisting. The tears continued to flow. She breathed through her mouth, scrunching her eyes to squeeze the tears out so she could see. Her pussy ached and burned; her asshole was past pain and had started to go numb. In another 24 hours she would be one large ache. Walking would be a challenge. Pissing would be agony. She decided to fast for a week. One small bowel movement might be fatal. Both Masters felt that familiar tingling at the base of their cocks. They started bouncing her harder, her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out. They paid no attention; they kept fucking her for another few minutes until they finished. Then they carefully laid her on the mat to rest. Each man stood and stretched and then slipped off the shredded latex. Their cocks weren’t as rigid as before, but they were still swollen. It would take a while for that much blood to return to circulation. Master Joe walked over and released Tuesday from the cable. She had been watching, mesmerized by the display. She had learned to enjoy rough sex; she had reveled in it before. Watching such a demonstration of pain and fucking, the men having little apparent regard for the agony they were inducing (she didn't know that they were really holding back) made her realize how far into “rough” she had to go. Her pussy was dripping again; a pink froth covered her pussy. Her juice combined with a residual bit of bleeding, making her pussy resemble a strawberry parfait. Neither man said a word; she sank to her knees and began to clean Master Joe’s cock with her tongue. After a few licks and a nibble she turned her attention to Master John. Back and forth she went, holding the base of each cock with her hand. Her fingers reached about halfway around. After a little while they were satisfied. Master Joe looked down at her. Her eyes were looking at their knees.
“Time for your punishment.” He said. She shivered. Master John took her hand and led her over to the same hook the swing was attached to. Joe removed the swing and found a pair of spreader bars and another pair of cuffs. He attached her wrist cuffs to one bar and clipped it to the hook. The other bar went to the cuffs on her ankles. She was hoisted up until she was on her tiptoes.
The masters each selected a light bullwhip. With a heavy whip they could kill a person (once John almost did.) The whips were made of plaited leather but did not have a lead core. They could extract remarkable pain but without doing as much serious damage. In the hands of the two masters they were extremely versatile.
“Seventeen. Each. That’s all.” The Lady Beth said to them. She stepped up to Tuesday and said “You’ve been whipped before. Before you came here. You survived then; you’ll be alright now. But it will hurt. That’s what punishment is. Learn from it.” She stepped away and the first lash wrapped around and snapped on her back. The surprise made her give a small scream. She didn’t dare scream loudly. The next came from the other side and landed close to the first. They whipped her to hurt, not to damage. It did hurt. She sobbed and twisted, dancing on her toes. The lashes never touched any of the newly pierced areas. They lashed her slowly, methodically; giving her plenty of time to recover before the next one landed. By the time the tenth stroke fell she realized that the pain wasn’t so bad. Tuesday had experienced worse while hanging from her tits. She also realized that her arousal was rising. The froth was sliding down her legs, washed away by the flood of fresh fluid flowing from her cunt. They knew exactly what they were doing; the only question was in determining how much, how fast? Apparently it was enough. She continued her dance, but not in agony. It DID hurt. But it hurt SO GOOD! It ended almost too soon. They released her and she dropped to the floor, feeling the different pains in different parts of her body. Her endorphins had flooded her system; she was not completely cognizant of the world her body was in. Her mind was very elsewhere.
They left her there and found Sheila, awake, watching. The Lady Beth spoke to her:
“You were supposed to give her some instruction in yoga and do some light exercises today. So much for that idea. You’re not out of the hot water yet. The Mistress will decide the rest.” Sheila hung her head and slowly struggled to her feet. She waddled out of the chamber. The masters sauntered along behind her.
Tuesday began to stir, recognizing her surroundings. When she looked up The Toymaker was squatting down next to her.
“Rough day already?” He asked. She nodded. “It’s about over. Just a few more things to do.” He helped her to her feet and led her back over to the exam chair. He strapped her in loosely; she wasn’t going anywhere.
“You don’t need to bind me.” She said.
“I know. I like to.” He smiled at her. She smiled back. The stirrups were still adjusted for Sheila’s punishment. He adjusted them down and stepped between her thighs. He held a strange belt in his hand. He pressed the center portion down over her pussy, wiggling it around to check the fit.
“What do you feel?” He asked.
“Nothing…no wait. A slight touch. On my clit. That’s all.” She replied. He shook it back and forth while pressing down. She looked confused.
“I feel…a little tickle.” She told him. He picked up the device and did something to the inside and replaced in on her cunt. He shook it while pressing, but not as hard.
“I feel a little something just touching my clit. About every other time you move it.” She said.
“Okay.” He unbuckled her and assisted her up; she held the belt for him. He put the belt around her waist and pulled two thin straps between her legs. She looked down at the belt and realized that her clit was covered by a bulge, a hole for her urethra to drain fitted snugly around the opening. She felt the covering. The material was more flexible around her piss hole but became much stiffer as it rose over her clit. It fit too tightly for her to get her fingers under it and it was too hard to push into her clit. Her pussy and asshole were accessible for use. The belt itself was light and flexible; she wouldn’t notice it after a few hours.
“Walk around.” The Toymaker told her. She did. Every few steps she could feel something touch her clit. She tried to jump but decided that she was too sore for that. She wiggled her hips and decided that there was definitely something almost touching her clit.
“I can feel something touching me. But very slightly. What is it?” She asked.
“A clit tickler. I’ll adjust it again tomorrow. It’s just to help keep you aroused.” He said.
“Like I NEED something to do THAT?!” She exclaimed. “My pussy stays soaked as it is.”
“Well…the belt keeps wandering fingers from wandering too closely. And it helps to keep you from being punished. The tickler is punishment for needing it.” He smiled. She pouted.
“You had this in mind before I diddled myself this afternoon.” She said. He nodded.
“Mistress Christine figured that as soon as you were pierced that your fingers might get you into trouble. She was right. She’s pretty sharp like that.” He told her. She pouted some more. He laughed at her expression. “You can earn your orgasms. That’s the only way you can have one from your clit. She thinks you might find one another way.”
“I’ve almost had them from fucking my ass. I think I could with a more normal sized cock than what I’ve had lately. The Roscoes…” She didn’t need to finish.
“If you could have them from one of the Roscoes fucking your ass, what do you think they would be like?” He asked her. She thought a few moments. She shook her head.
“I have no idea. I can’t imagine that.”
Chapter 21
The next day Tuesday awoke again to the Roscoes standing in her cell. They were dressed in their usual fashion: knit shirt, khaki cargo shorts and deck shoes. She remembered to not look higher than their knees. Her hands had been left unattached to her collar. The chastity belt took care of the fingers problem.
“How does the pussy feel?” One of them asked her.
“Sore, sir.” She responded. “My clit is throbbing.”
“I thought it did that all the time?” The other asked.
“Not like now, sir.” She said.
“Do your morning thing.” She was told. Tuesday crawled over to the hole in the floor. It was close enough to the wall that she had to turn around and face the door to squat over it. When she turned she saw the enormous cocks out, semi hard, pointing to her face.
“Thank you, sirs.” She said taking each in a hand and licking the heads back and forth. She sucked on the ends, trying to fit her mouth around the heads, finally stretching her jaw enough to get them in. She milked them with her hands, banging the end into the back of her throat. Fortunately she had long before learned to control her gag reflex; still the pressure stretching her throat made it difficult. It would certainly require surgery to get them in any deeper. She squatted there, over her toilet. She had finished with her bladder, now she needed to finish with them. She loved sucking cocks, but these two were a challenge. They had grown to full hardness, filling her mouth and leaving little room for her tongue to do what she did best with it. At last she felt the first one start to jump. She pulled her head back far enough to catch the cum rather than having it blast directly down her throat. She sucked harder, feeling her reward fill her mouth. When he had at last finished spurting she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, tipping her head back to show them her prize. She swallowed and turned immediately to the other one to finish that one as well. She continued to stroke the first one gently as it softened. Her second reward came soon after; she repeated her display and swallowed her treat.
“Thank you, Master Joe, thank you, Master John. You are very generous this morning.” She said, her eyes looking at their knees. She licked her lips to catch any stray drops. The two looked at each other and grinned. Joe answered her:
“Good job. I think you could be a keeper. After all, your performance is crucial.” She nodded her head slowly, considering his words. “Up. Time to start the rest of your day.”
She followed them to the shower. Master John removed the chastity belt and they watched as she washed. He put the cuffs on and attached them to her collar. The belt would be left off for a while. They took her to breakfast and then back to see the Lady Beth.
“How's the cunt, cunt?” The Lady Beth inquired.
“Sore, mistress.” Tuesday answered. “My clit throbs a lot.” The Lady smirked at the Roscos.
“More than usual?” She asked.
“Yes, mistress. It usually doesn't hurt when it throbs.” Tuesday replied.
“In the chair. Let's take a look.” The Lady Beth pointed to the exam chair. Tuesday climbed in, the Lady belted her down. She ran her fingers across some of the lines left from the previous days whipping.
“How do these feel?” She asked.
“Not too bad, mistress. Not like my cunt.” Tuesday answered.
“First, let me tell you something.” The Lady Beth began. “It's not 'your' cunt. You are an acquisition; an asset. As such both you as a whole and your parts are not owned by you. It's time you started thinking like that. It belongs to the Mistress, but if she isn't around it belongs to whoever is in charge at that moment. Right now it belongs to me. To do with as I wish. If I cause damage beyond what the Mistress wishes, I answer to her. I can cut it out or sew it shut; or these two Neanderthals can destroy it – and I mean a whole lot worse than you watched yesterday – and we don't owe you an apology. Of course the Mistress might extract a rather painful fee for such actions; but it is she who would decide. She may replace Helena with you. Or not. You will refer to yourself in the third person from now on. 'This slut.' 'Your whore.' 'This cunt', 'Master Joe's and Master John's devoted cock sucker' and so on. But you are not a slave. Not yet. You may never be one. It's up to the Mistress or Mr. Charles to describe to you the hierarchy here. But you have a ways to go to be a slave. Sheila was a slave until yesterday. Today she's back to the same status as you. You're both meat for the grinder. These two guys turn the crank. I tell them how fast. Understand?” Tuesday nodded.
“Yes, mistress. Thank you for the instruction.” She said trembling.
“Relax. So far your performance has been pretty good. Other than that little faux pas you made yesterday you're doing okay. That's what the belt is for. To prevent another little fuck up.” The Lady said. She didn't add that it was also to keep her pussy drooling.
“Thank you, mistress.” Tuesday replied. The Lady continued to examine the marks, noting the placement and how even the lines were from start to end. The lines carefully avoided the piercings while targeting the sensitive spots. The guys really did know what they were doing.
The Lady started by examining the nipple piercings. The nipples were red and swollen, but not abnormally. A Betadine sponge was used to clean each one, a pinch across the piercings forced some of the antiseptic into the wounds. Tuesday winced, but didn’t utter a sound.
She pulled a cart with a box of first aid supplies around to the side close to one of Tuesday's knees and sat on her stool. She donned a pair of latex gloves and gently pulled the labia apart. Tuesday bit her lips, not daring to moan. She didn't know if it was allowed; but after seeing what had happened to Sheila, didn't want to take a chance.
The clitoris was swollen; that was as expected. Some redness as well, but not beyond normal. The Lady Beth picked up a syringe, filled it with Betadine and carefully slipped the point to the edge of the bottom of the Isabella piercing. She depressed the plunger slowly, soaking the piercing until the solution ran out of the top and leaked slightly from one side. She moved the point to the side piercing not leaking and applied the antiseptic to that one. It flowed from all three other openings. A sterile cotton sponge soaked up the excess. She pulled the labia apart again, opening the vagina and displaying her cavity. She then slipped a sound, one of the smaller ones, into the urethra and wiggled it slightly. Tuesday didn't react so a larger one went in. When she got to one that caused her to wince slightly she stopped and pushed it into the bladder. She jumped a bit when it passed the bladder sphincter, but not as much as she had originally. Leaving the sound in place, she lubricated her gloved finger and gently rubbed the end of the clitoris. Tuesday's eyes sprang open, startled. Her eyes roved the room, not daring to look into any of the faces as the rubbing continued. The Lady picked up a small vibrator and turned it on. It was very quiet; when the tip of it touched the end of the sound Tuesday jumped again. A glance into the open pussy revealed to the Lady that her ministrations were having a profound effect. The cavity was now filled, threatening to spill over onto the asshole. She stopped rubbing the clit, not wanting Tuesday to have another unearned orgasm; wanting to see the effect of the vibrator against the sound.
“Mistress...please...may...may your slut...may your whore cum?” Tuesday was quivering as she spoke.
“No!” The Lady responded. “You may not.” She put the vibrator down and began moving the sound in and out, wiggling it around, tapping the bottom of her bladder as it went. Tuesday went back to biting her lip and holding her eyes tightly closed. A larger sound was inserted, the largest one yet. Again the vibrator and the clit rubbing. Another vibrator was applied to the bottom ball of the Isabella.
“Mistress! Please! Your slut...is about to cum. I can't help it!” Tuesday cried. The vibrations ceased. Now a puddle had accumulated on the floor under her ass. The Lady took a handful of cotton sponges and stuffed them into the soaking cunt, absorbing the copious juices. She mopped them around and then stood and told Tuesday:
“Open up.” As her mouth opened the sponges were stuffed inside. “Enjoy.” She said. Tuesday nodded her thanks. The lady removed the sound and began to release the straps. She told her property:
“Get up. And clean up my floor.” Tuesday got out of the chair on trembling legs and looked at the mess she had made on the floor. She got down on her knees and pushed the sponges to one side within her mouth with her tongue and licked the floor clean. Master Joe replaced the belt and locked it then offered her his hand to stand. She did so and he released her hands from the collar.
“Thank you, Master.” She said around the fabric. She was pretty sure he was Joe, but didn't to chance it. Mistakes around here could have serious repercussions.
Chapter 22
The rest of Tuesday's day turned into what would become a routine. She was led to the stables and kennels. Both Mr. Tanner and Kenny took turns fucking her at both ends – mouth and ass – but not her pussy. The sexual activity excited her, the tickler inside the chastity belt simply added to her frustration. Two members of the camera crew also sampled her talents. They recorded her as she sucked off two stallions and four dogs. One of the photographers used a Red One, the new camera that records at equivalent or better than 35mm film. He shot close to her face, catching every nuance of her efforts. While he did this Tuesday wore a tiny “earbug”; a radio receiver inside her ear canal that allowed her to hear a constant commentary on her actions. Her tongue work, her lips, how much she was sucking – was all described and pointers given, the point being to add to the humiliation of her actions. At times her tears flowed. Her pussy flowed constantly. During the commentary she was frequently compared to Helena; the concept that she could be a replacement always at the front of her mind.
She was returned for a shower and another quick check by Lady Beth. Tuesday's belt was removed; wrists attached to her collar, and then was motioned onto the exam chair and buckled in.
“Let's see how you are doing.” The Lady remarked cheerfully. She was healing normally, so another light dousing of antiseptic was all that was required. “Do you notice the touching sensation on your clit?”
“Sometimes, mistress. Especially if I...excuse me...your slut is being fucked. Lady Beth, is using 'me' allowable?” Tuesday asked. The Lady frowned.
“Yes. Unless changed by Mistress Christine. She may. How many times were you fucked today?”
“Four times, mistress...well, by four men. Mr. Tanner, Mr. Kenny and two photographers. Your slut doesn't know their names.” She answered.
“I will give instructions that you be introduced to everyone by appropriate name. You should be able to properly thank everyone for their attentions. Did you thank the crew for the pleasure of their cocks?” The Lady asked.
“Yes, mistress. They seemed to enjoy it.” Tuesday replied.
“You will start meeting some more of the staff and assets. I want you to be quite familiar with everyone's genitals. I want your tongue to know every swell, crease, bump and flavor. I want you to be able to identify every cock, pussy or pucker blindfolded. There will likely be a quiz. ” The Lady told her.
“Thank you, mistress. You are most generous.” She said.
“Mistress Christine’s orders. You're going to be the house slut for a while.” The Lady said. “That means that you are to offer…no…not just offer…solicit enthusiastically the use of your mouth and ass to everyone to meet each day. That’s everyone, management, staff, asset or acquisition. We refer to those as ‘a&a’s’, by the way. You address them as Mr. or Miss, not master or mistress.”
Men? Tuesday was startled. Men as slaves here…but…why not…?
“They will address you in the same way. You will not refer to yourself as “their slut” but as slut Tuesday. It is your job to entice them to use you for their pleasure in any way they wish. And that includes being their urinal. If they wish for you to suck their assholes, use lots of tongue. If they want to fuck your ass, you’ll clean them off – of course you should be doing that anyway. Make sure that they understand that they are doing you a favor to let you drink their cum or their piss. Some will make you beg for it. You’ll beg. You’ll grovel. Whatever it takes to get them to use you; or abuse you.” She picked up a quirt. The two rough rawhide ends were twelve inches long. The end of each one was knotted, two more knots were tied into the last third of each strand. A small loop on the handle end held a double snap clip; it was snapped onto the ring on the front of Tuesday’s collar.
“Here’s how it works.” The Lady Beth began. “Your performance in convincing everyone to use you AND how well you please them is graded with this little quirt. If you aren’t convincing enough for them to use you, they’ll stripe your back three times. If they use you and are displeased with your performance, they’ll stripe whichever orifice they found disappointing. Except for your mouth. Your face is not to be marked. They’ll use the soles of your feet instead. If you do a lousy job, say of sucking a cock, you might get both your back and your feet slashed. Don’t give a good enough ass fuck and the enema hose might sting going in. I’ll examine your marks every day. I’ll determine how well you are performing by your marks. Understand?” Tuesday nodded.
“Yes, mistress. Understood.” She replied.
“You are the lowest worm in the compost pile. Everyone is to be treated as your better, though I understand you have a different…agreement with the Toymaker.” There was a bit of a smile on the Lady’s face as she said it. Tuesday could hear it in her voice.
“If…if the Lady says so…mistress.” Tuesday said hesitantly. What the fuck?? She looked around the floor, trying to figure out what was going on.
“Don’t worry about it. Apparently he has a soft spot in his head…and a hard spot in his pants about you. Seems he is haunted by a previous life. When you’re around him you do as he says. Got it?” The Lady seemed amused.
“Yes, mistress. Thank you.” Tuesday answered. The Lady picked up the quirt on the ring and dropped it onto Tuesday’s chest.
“Your performance is critical to determining your final purpose. Enthusiasm is critical.” As the Lady Beth was finishing unbuckling the straps the Roscoes arrived. Tuesday began her groveling.
|
|
|