The Trophy Wife 8
The End. (No, this is not the end! -- Note from Stories-Online.net)
I had been watching her sleep for awhile now. She lay on her back on the bed, wearing nothing
as always, except the remnants of her makeup from our last session together, and of course her
iron collar which she was never without. Her red hair was fanned out on the pillow. She had
changed quite a bit since I snatched her away from her former slutty life, a deposited her here
in her even sluttier existence. Her face had changed, it was more hollowed out that at first.
She was paler too; no doubt both effect stemmed from her confinement. She was still radiantly
beautiful though. And I still had immense desire for her. Of the two women I held, Cunt was by
far still my favorite, even if she were not a blonde.
I suppose there were several reasons for this. Not only was she physically stunning, but the
satisfaction of brutalizing the ringleader of the murderous conspirators made her that much more
satisfying and delicious. She was after all my first conquest.
I roused her with a mild current through her collar. Which had the desired effect. Her eyes
flew open, for a moment they were filled with the terror of her initial period of captivity.
After she realized where she was and even more importantly who and what she was now her eyes
softened and she became my playful sex toy once again.
My voice entered her cell, from above as though I were god, and directed her to perform some
very unholy acts. She complied of course and closed her eyes again. Her entire body softened and
relaxed into the folds of her bed. One hand began to caress her soft, full breasts, and the
other traveled down to her crotch and began to work herself up. I watched her closely for a few
moments. It did not take her long to arouse herself. I had been raping her for many months now.
At first she was justifiably horrified and could not help but resisting and crying all through
my various, vicious assaults on her. But that faded as her captivity continued. After some time
she had become accustomed to the daily assaults, and any struggling and screaming would have
been an act. After that phase I did however, demand that she be an actress. I demanded that she
fake pleasure. I demanded that she fake delight at my touch. I demanded that she act pleased
when I shot my cum into her womb, on her flesh and also when I forced her to taste my cum. She
became an accomplished actress. She needed much encouragement and intensive training though. She
spent many many nights having her acting abilities whipped into shape, for her audience of one.
It took a lot of time, and much disciplinary correction, but soon she was very convincing. She
was even convincing when I forced her to perform lesbian acts with her former best friend.
However, after the anonymous encounter with Barry, I realized that all her artificial orgasm of
the past were faint copies of the genuine thing when she came for real at the skillful
attentions of his generous tongue. The difference between her fake cums, and the genuine article
was dramatic. Her real cums were far more intense and accompanied with some rather dramatic
upward thrusts of her hips. Poor Stacey, having witnessed the difference I would no longer be
satisfied with the anemic cums that she had pacified me with these many months. I would expect,
I would insist on the genuine article. As I did now she had arched her back up off the bed and
had moved both her hands down to her crotch. Her left hand was holding herself open, for her
pleasure as well as my visual stimulation. The fingers on her other hand were playing around the
entrance to herself, and simultaneously rubbing insistently against her clitoris. After several
more minutes of this her eyes flew open and she stared at the concrete ceiling of her cell. Hers
eyes were vacant and empty. Her lust had taken her from this horrible place and transported her
elsewhere. She struggled to get the air needed to get the words out. "Please may I cum Darling."
I contemplated her request while she continued playing with herself. I looked down at my own
crotch. I twitched my penis. There was indeed life in my pants. I denied her request. "I have
left your wardrobe and other preparatory details in the usual place. You have thirty minutes to
meet me. Don't be late Cunt."
I kept watching her for a few seconds more, while I hit the switched to remotely open her cell
doors. I saw as she withdrew her sticky hands from between her legs and moved with haste toward
the opening door. I listened as her chain dragged along behind her as she sped off to the
showers. It would not due to have her unclean and smelly when I used her. I switched off the
monitor and walked slowly over to the guesthouse. I has some work men over to the house this day
they were putting the finishing touches on the pool area placing some Mexican tiles into the
area surrounding the pool. I chatted briefly with them. They told me that they would be finished
by the end of tomorrow. I thanked them and told them that they did nice work. I walked into the
guesthouse and into the back room. Typing the code into the security keypad the floor descended
and I traveled into a far different world than the one I had just left. The world I entered was
one filled with sexual pleasures, at least for me. A world of complete lack of stress, where I
would find no arguments of any kind.
I found myself waiting for her on the bed, alone. I had tried to time it so that I would meet
her there in thirty minutes. But my lust always seemed to get the best of me and I would
invariably find myself waiting for her ahead of schedule. I glanced at my watch. She only had a
minute left. I could not hear anything on the other side of the curtain. "Not much time left
Cunt!" I heard her then as she rustled herself around in the chair at the dressing table. "Sorry
Darling, there was a lot to do." The wooden box lay on the night table, I reached for it and
watched the clock. Her thirty minutes were up. I gave her a blast of electricity. She cried out
in pain, and surprise. It had been quite some time since she had failed to meet a deadline. I
waited another minute and gave her another, stronger jolt. This time I felt her fall to the
floor. I heard her flesh slap painfully into the concrete of the floor. I heard her cry out with
pain and frustration. She called out to me. I did not respond. Her pleases became more
imploring. "Please Darling I need your help." I gave her a third blast, this time even more
intense, and walked the twenty feet or so to the curtain that separated us and flung it open.
She was still on the floor, spread out completely on her stomach. Her right arm was fishing
around under the dressing table searching for something. Needless to say, her iron collar was
still clamped firmly around her neck. She was almost finished dressing one of her shoes was not
strapped to her foot, and was resting on the table the ankle strap already opened and waiting
for her delicate foot. Her fabulous legs were covered in dark Grey stockings that were designed
to stay up by themselves. Her luscious curves were being held tightly by a skintight slip, it
was a few sizes too small, red in color and was made of clingy stretch lace. She rolled over on
her back, I watched her body move as she rolled over. Despite the clingy nature of the garment
her ample tits still fell slightly to the side of her ribcage. She held collar with her right
hand to try and keep it from making contact with her neck, and pointed under the dressing table
with her other arm. "The key, ..I dropped it ..and it bounced under the table the first time you
shocked me." She paused them apologized. "Sorry Darling. Could you please help me?" He manner
was most pathetic, and it pleased me to see her like this. I reached into my pocket and removed
her collar with another key I had.
"Hurry and fix your face."
I waited a few more minutes sitting on the end of the bed for her to arrive, a fact, which did
not please me in the least. As usual I heard her before I saw her. Her heels were clicking on
the floor, they stopped when she breached the curtained partition to the bedroom chamber. That's
where the plush carpeting began. She walked, no, strutted into the chamber, ready once again to
perform and sacrifice herself to my cock for the safety of herself and her sister. I gestured
for her to kneel before me, she knelt down on her knees, which she placed slightly spread and
waited to find out what I wanted this time. She waited patiently there for direction from me.
Her hair was hanging long a loose, and slightly curled from the treatment of the curling iron I
had supplied to her. I the time I had taken her her hair had lengthened a few inched. It was
even more pleasing to the eye. Most often I like long hair o a woman. Whatever induces contrast
in a woman's appearance, contrast between a man and a woman, I prefer. Despite the harsh
treatment, poor food, lake of sunshine, constant sexual abuse, she still looked incredible to
me. Indeed my desire for her was stronger than ever.
I reached forward to her, and began to stroke and caress her face with my hands. She tilted her
head into my palm, closed her eyes and molded her face into my hand. I stood up and pulled her
forward into the end of the bed till she was kneeling on the floor, bent over with her rear high
up in the air. The limits of her stretch lace slip were being tested by the expansive curve of
her womanly hips. The look was just exactly what I had hoped for. The garment had no chance to
cover any of her charms. Her vagina, still dripping with her own juices and her puckered anus
were completely exposed to my eyes. A shudder of anticipation swept through me. "Keep your eyes
shut." "Yes Darling."
With the preliminary instructions clear I went to a nearby chest and removed some articles I had
prepositioned earlier.
I placed my leg between hers and kicked her legs apart a little more, to expose her and angle
her pelvis just so. I lined up the dildos I had retrieved and began to force them into her holes
simultaneously. I wanted to get them stuffed into her quickly before they began to melt from the
incredible waves of heat that her aroused crotch was giving off. I had them both driven into her
before she could even react to their construction, much less to their presence. Hers eyes were
still clamped shut, I had stopped holding them in her, and they were sliding out of her now.
"Don't let them fall out." She clamped her legs shut, nearly fell over on her side and threw her
hands down between her legs to help hold them in place. I enjoyed her discomfort and confusion,
for a few moments before I pulled her back up into the sitting position on her knees and heels,
and resumed my position sitting in front of her on the end of the bed. "As long as your hands
are down there, you should put them to use Cunt. I want you to fuck yourself with the ice. Fuck
yourself till you cum. Don't fake it either or I will be able to tell now won't I?" She nodded
her head slightly, still keeping her eyes clamped shut, and managed to chatter out through her
trembling lips yet another "Yes Darling." Her hands began to push the icy pricks into and out
of herself. I watched her as she tried, really tried to excite herself kneeling before me. She
managed to become aroused, but it was difficult for her. The ice made feeling anything
throughout her crotch difficult. It was numbing her nerves to the point of where she could feel
very little. I could probably jam her hot curling iron into her without her realizing that I had
switched from the ice dildo. The idea had just flashed into my head, but I decided to keep it
for another day. She had not been that bad after all. I dropped my pants and stood before her,
my throbbing erection pointing directly at her. It was angled slightly upward, and I had to pull
her up slightly from her kneeling position till she could reach it with her mouth. Her mouth was
stretched around me, and I leaned myself hard into intent on taking her throat completely in one
initial thrust. I held her head in my hands and ground myself against her face hard. I could
feel her lips pressing around the root of my cock, I managed to glance down at her through my
nearly closed eyes and saw her distended lips, her heavily made up eyelids still obediently
clamped shut, and her nose flattened against my belly. I closed my eyes and savored the feel of
her mouth, trapped around my erection, and the feel of my pubic hair grinding against her soft
face. She began to gag and choke on me. I held her head tightly in my hands, forcing her to
relax again and ride out her reflex. The episode excited me even more and I imaging that I was
growing even larger inside her struggling mouth. Soon she relaxed herself and stopped struggling
against me. I too relaxed my grip on her head and began to untangle my fingers from her long
soft red hair. Her newly won mobility was put to good use almost immediately, as she began to
rock herself forward and backward on her heels, sucking me off, with the expert technique that I
had forced her to develop. My knees weakened, and I decided to sit down on the edge of the bed
before I fell down.
I watched as her tightly pursed lips traveled up and down my length, accompanied by obscene
slurping and sucking sounds. When I looked more closely at her I could still see her arms moving
the dildos in and out of herself. The one in her has, had shriveled up to the size of a small
sliver, and she had supplemented its size with a pair of her own fingers. I watched as the
perfectly formed, red tapered nails on those fingers entered her own ass over and over again. I
could not see from the angle what was left of the ice that was in her snatch but I imagined that
it must be in roughly the same shape, as the one that was in her rear. I reached forward to her
head again and began to softly stroke her hair, imparting minor adjustments and corrections to
her technique. She took the suggestion, wisely and I began to hunch my crotch up into her face
to relieve some of the pressure that her efforts had built up within me. Some grunts and near
screams were escaping from her mouth. The rush of air escaping past her lips tickled my crotch
pleasantly. The noises she was making were resonated through my cock, and pushing me further
over the edge.
I took her head in my hands, once again and held her still. She kept trying to bob her head up
and down along my length, but I held her still. She knew what that meant, she knew that she had
finished me off and that it was only a matter of a few more seconds before I would fill her
mouth with my sperm. Her arms had not stopped their movements in between her legs however. Just
before I started to pump the contents of my nuts into her mouth her hips began to buck bath and
forth rapidly and I could tell that she had just made herself cum by her own hands. I lay back
relaxed and content as I felt her tongue traveling across my crotch, making sure that I was
clear and that she had not left me soiled by any of my own cum. She was also following her
earlier training. Every time I cum, if it convenient to get your mouth rapidly to my crotch, do
so and try to coax another erection from me. I let her try for several minutes more, as we both
calmed down. I thought back on all the times that I had fucked her. I never dreamed that I could
have kept hr for this long or that I would have been this successful at molding her into the
creature that knelt between my widespread legs, still sucking away. Her eyes were still closed,
not having opened them since my earlier order. I wondered what the catalyst for finally breaking
her, and making her cum was. I speculated on several possible factors, then just as quickly
forgot the subject entirely. You can ruin something if you over analyze it. I pushed her off my
cock with my foot and she fell to the carpeted floor with a gentle thud. I sat up and looked
down at her laying there. She had just been raped again. She did not look shocked or horrified.
She looked a little tired, that's all. I stood and used my foot to prod her. I started at her
crotch, using it
to force her hands away from her now puffy and soaked lips of her vagina. I let the shoe of my
foot travel up to her midsection then upward toward her lovely-enhanced breasts and upward still
further to her face. I pressed the sole of my shoe into her lips. "Kiss it." I hissed. I felt
her mouth press against the sole of my shoe. "Harder" and I pressed the shoe into her mouth a
little bit harder to match her intensity. "Use your whole tongue Cunt." I had almost screamed
that at her. I had used my foot to twist her head to one side so I could see what she was doing.
She was using her tongue on the sole o my shoe, she was taking long broad strips at the sole.
Pressing her tongue against me without shame or reservation. She was doing exactly what I was
telling her to do. The thought thrilled me and filled me with excitement again. I had had
enough, I removed my foot from her mouth. And I stood there before her, my hands on my hips, and
another erection pointing at her, threatening her with its length, yet again. She struggled to
catch her breath, and to keep a few tears from travelling down her cheeks. She finally looked up
at me. And I looked down at her with a mixture of reverence and contempt in my eyes for her.
"That was good wasn't it cunt." She thought for a moment more and more tears escaped her. She
admitted to me that it was good with a subtle nod of her head. I knew it was good. I knew than I
had her. Her whole body shuddered with the humiliating revelation. "Yes Darling that was good."
If I could have crowed in triumph at that moment I would have. I kicked her legs roughly apart
and fell on her slamming myself into completely. She was still a little cold inside from the
ice. But I warmed her up, fast. I took her. I used her. I fucked her with no regard for her own
pleasure. And still she responded to my cock. To she cock that was raping her. It wouldn't have
mattered to me if she never responded genuinely to my abuse. Her reaction made it that much
sweeter.
She picked her legs up and wrapped them around my waist, tightly, and began to claw at my back
with her nails. She pressed her body into mine as though it were the sweetest thing she could
imagine. As thought she dreaded the moment it would end. I pistoned into her rapidly, and
thought I had cum only a few minutes earlier, I found the strength and the cum to fill her up
again. She was squirming up into my body moving uncontrollably. I recognized her exited
movements, she was close. But she would not make it this time. I collapsed against her,
completely relaxed. Soon after I rolled off her and fell into a near sleep condition. After
having a short nap at her side I roused myself to my feet and found her laying there still. She
had not moved or tried to attack me in any way.
Looking down at her she lay broken on the floor. I dressed, and left her like that. I did not
need to say a word to her, I didn't need to giver her any instruction at all. She knew what I
expected of her. She knew enough to fasten her collar about her neck and reverse the preparation
procedure, and seal herself back into her cell. Snug as a bug, ready again and waiting for
another visit from me.
I returned to the real world to find the workmen packing up and ready to leave. I looked around
and quickly surveyed their work. Everything looked done to me. They explained that only one of
them would return tomorrow. All that they had left to do was to spray some sealant down to guard
against moisture penetration. I smiled to myself knowing that not more than 100 feet from where
we were pleasantly chatting, a pair of devious treacherous women were trapped in a living hell.
A living hell, that these men had unwittingly helped me to fashion around them.
The next day I checked on Vicki I found her curled up in a fetal position, in her new bed, in
her new cell. I had been making her watch videotapes of my earlier rapes of her. She had not
been participating in her exercise regimen since I moved her into the new building. Her meager
rations too were being underconsumed. She was eating enough to satisfy me and to keep me off her
back. But still she was eating nothing more than what was needed to keep her alive. And she was
loosing a little weight too. I noticed this today when I made her stand. I stood before her
examining her nude body. I ran my fingers gently over her ribcage. They were exposed now more
than ever, and I could make out everyone of them and did to as I ran the tip of my index finger
over them one at a time. Her breasts which were of normal size were made that much more
prominent by her diminishing figure, and I let my hands travel freely over them as well. Her
reaction was non existent. It was almost as if I had not touched her at all. The touch that
would have sickened her and caused her to run away in terror when I captured her initially, now
caused little or no reaction at all. I continued to touch her and pass my hands over her body
moving closer all the time, insinuating my body closer and closer to her till I was pressing my
body right up against hers and making contact throughout the length of our bodies. I tilted her
head back as far as I could and began to kiss and nip at her throat, taking pains to avoid her
iron collar which I had not removed yet. I kissed and licked my way up her slender neck and
covered her face with my kissing and licking lips. She let me, but she displayed no enthusiasm
whatsoever. Her behavior was acceptable but never really good. Despite all my efforts at shaping
and conditioning her to my will, I was beginning to conclude that she would never fully accept
her status the way that Stacey had come to accept hers. I didn't know why this was, whether it
was something about the differing natures about the two women. Or whether it had something to do
with the threats that I could impose upon Stacey's sister. I took one of her always-prominent
nipples in my fingers and pinched and twisted it and its ring till she began to show some
enthusiasm for the task at hand. She was now pressing her body against me, running her hands up
and down my body. I let my hand travel down to the tangle of public hair between her legs and
found her sex chained shut by the tiny padlock that I had pierced her with. Her natural hair
color of blonde was showing through at the roots as her frosted platinum blonde hair had grown
out slightly. As part of her preparations today, I would make her color her hair again, back to
the platinum blonde frosted bimbo color that I imposed upon her. I liked that look on her.
Chiefly because with every change that I had to see her, and every time that she had a chance to
view herself, it was a symbol of her servitude to me. Something that was always with her, that
she could never reverse, until I said so.
Because of the additional amount of time that the bleaching of her hair would require I gave
her a generous amount of time to prepare herself for me. I had given her nearly 2 hours to
prepare, and she had made the deadline, though barely.
I watched with amusement as Vickie stood there, dressed as the little schoolgirl. Her ensemble
was perfect, from the crisp white starched blouse to the tartan wool skirt. There were several
items of her attire that belied the fact that she was obviously not a schoolgirl. The most
noticeable was her bustline. In particular, the visible nipple rings that were poking at the
material of the garment, and making their presence known to anyone who cared to look at her. No
schoolage girl ever had a figure like hers. Her hair, teased to the max, and makeup were far too
exaggerated to be a proper schoolgirl. She looked far more like a hooker, or perhaps a stripper
that was in costume of a school girl. Which was after all my desire.
I made her sashay, and parade back and forth in front of me for a while, while I surveyed
my creative efforts. Once again I was the artist and her body was the canvas that I painted
humiliation on her. I made her lift her skirt, and pout just like a little girl. For the first
time, not counting those days when she had her period, that I had taken her she was allowed to
wear some panties. They were white cotton panties, and were entirely consistent with the
schoolgirl outfit she had been forced to wear. Her stockings were white as well. There were
large black bows on the tops of them, which added to her humiliation. The act that I had
compelled upon her forced her to snake her hand beneath her panties and masturbate herself for
me for a few moments. After a minute or two she withdrew her fingers from herself and made her
lick them clean.
I made her skip back and forth in front of me. Which wasn't easy for her given the height of
her very un-schoolgirllike heels. I had her prance around till she lay prone on top of a short
table that I had converted to an altar, that was covered with thick padded leather. Her legs lay
off the end opposite me. There were all kinds of straps that I could use to tie her down with,
and several rings placed around the perimeter of the table that I could have used to keep her
from moving. However these I did not use, they were there of course. And I'm sure that they were
intimidating to her. This left her rear and crotch available to me at one end of the piece of
furniture and her head at the height of my erect cock at the other end. I made her take an
oversized novelty lollipop from her school bag and made her lick it seductively. All the while I
made her pretend that she liked what I was making her do. The height of her mouth was something
I quickly took advantage of. The piercing on her tongue was by far my best idea for her. She
never failed to use it well, on the sensitive underside of my dick. It felt extremely good, and
she knew it. Being eager to get me off quickly was our goal for us both. After I finished with
her she lay on the altar still and unmoving. I had to prod her with my hand to get her up after
the blowjob. Her lethargy was uncharacteristic and disturbed me greatly.
I made her do this everyday for a solid week till she got the performance just right for me.
Then I changed the game, slightly. I added Stacey to the mix. On the seventh day of the
performance when Vickie pranced into the room she found myself and Stacey sitting there waiting
for the show. Also in the corner I had the two dogs ready to respond to my verbal commands to
protect me in case the two women got any ideas.
Both Stacey and I were dressed up as though we were out for an evening at the opera. I was
dressed in a tuxedo. I had dressed Stacey up as well. She had on a dress that was off white in
color. It was strapless, and extremely short, several inches above her knee. It clearly too
small for her body, was made of tight clinging material. She had to be quite careful to not show
off her patch of pubic hair to any who would want to view it. She had to keep tugging down the
hem to keep her crotch from being seen. Her large breasts would then be in danger of being
exposed. Something she had to monitor and keep her eye on. I was thrilled by her discomfort. We
looked the part of an elegant couple dressed up for a night on the town. The only thing that
marred this impression was a collar that I had secured around her neck, made of leather and
stainless steel. It buckled tightly around her throat. I held her sitting perched next to me on
a love seat for the show to begin. As soon as Vicki got over her initial surprise, and the show
had begun I tugged at her leash and encouraged her to mold her body against mine and caress me
while we enjoyed the show. Vicki went into her act and was suitably sluttish. By the time that
she was laying prone on the table I had a raging hardon and it was bursting at the seams of the
pants of my tux. The red fingernails that Stacey was tracing up and down the length of my
erection was causing some distraction. But I managed to stay riveted on the performance that my
little schoolgirl was engaged in. Her performance had reached the stage at which I had stood up
and raped her orally each day this week. This time would be different in many ways.
I stopped Stacey from caressing me and removed her leash. "Go on Cunt do your bit. Just like we
have been rehearsing this week." She stood and walked over to the table where her friend was
laying on her stomach, still slurping on the lollipop. Though more apprehensively to be sure.
She circled the altar once, Vickie tried to turn her head to keep her in sight, but she could
not. Not without turning over on her back. After a few circuits of the altar Stacey stopped
directly in front of Vicki's face, facing her. She turned to face me, putting her rear end in
the face of her friend. Stacey peeled her dress down removed her breasts and began to caress
them. While she was doing this she hiked her skirt up and revealed that she too was wearing a
pair of panties. White silk panties that she rubbed into the blonde's face. She bent forward
toward me at her hips, forcing her pelvis into Vickie face even further. Stacey dragged one hand
from her tit till she reached her thumb into her panties and skinned them from her ass.
Presenting her friend with her task. I couldn't see very well from where I was sitting but I
knew that Vickie was licking at her friend asshole, however tentatively. Stacey ground her ass
onto her friend's tongue dancing to some unheard music. I moved down the length of the loveseat
to get a better view, which I got. I could see the pink tongue snapping out of Vicki's mouth
swiping at Stacey's asshole. Each swipe made her jump at the contact. Vicki's eyes were screwed
shut trying to avoid witnessing what she was being made to do. I had seen her make this face
many times before. Most often she made it just after she was first imprisoned by me. Gradually
it had worn off as she had become accustomed to the new life I had imposed upon her, and I was
surprised to see it here. It must have meant that she was particularly disgusted by what I was
making her do. After a few more minutes of Stacey forcing her ass onto Vicki's tongue, she
looked over to me, through her half closed eye lids. I nodded my approval for her to move onto
the next phase. She danced forward away from the contact of Vicki's mouth, and turned her body
around to face her friend. Her hands moved down her body to pull the front half of her panties
down. She let them fall first to her knees. Where the natural shape of her legs stopped them
temporarily as they fell to the floor. Instead of the expected vagina, Vickie was presented with
a strap on dildo to service. It was molded after my own. It had a natural curve and was covered
in thick veins and ridges. It was a beautiful sight to see Vicki's mouth stretched over the fake
erection as she took it into her mouth and began to lick and suck at the artificial penis. Soon
she had gotten used to having her mouth filled with unyielding plastic dick. And Stacey began to
pump her hips into the face of her friend, driving the length of her strap on appendage into her
mouth again and again, fucking her friend's face. Just like I had been doing everyday this week.
This lesbian strap on sex festival was too much or me. I simply could not stand to watch any
more of it. My erection was driving my decisions. I sprang off the loveseat and darted toward
the obscene coupling of the women. My approach to them caught their attention. I nudged Stacey
out of Vicki's mouth and she walked around the table till she reached the other end of the
table. I bent down to Vicki's face and took her chin in my hands. "How'd you like that whore?"
She tried to keep her eyes closed in the presence of my leering face. But I wouldn't be
satisfied with that. and shook her face till she was looking back at me. I repeated the
question. "It was OK Darling." Stacey had placed her self right behind her friend. "Then I know
you are going to like this whore." Right on cue, she reached her hands underneath the soft
cotton panties that Vickie was wearing, and began to pull at them. They soon began to give and
were soon ripped off her completely. I leaned on Vicki's shoulders to hold her gently, as Stacey
closed in on her target. Stacey lined up her new cock onto Vicki's ass. This was the only hole
that Stacey had available as a target. As Vicki's vagina was still sealed by the lock that I
insisted she pass through the piercings of her vagina. As soon as the fake penis began to enter
her, she let out an involuntary 'no' as her rear was stretched to accommodate the intrusion.
This no gave me an opportunity that I did not want to pass up. I pressed my erection into
Vicki's face and began to fuck her face. She was too concerned with what Stacey was doing to her
ass to give my cock the amount of attention that I deserved. I withdrew from her mouth, a trail
of saliva joined us them dripped from my erection as I pulled away. This new emptiness allowed
her go gasp for air and groan at the anal intrusion. I held her head with one hand by her hair
and slapped her face hard repeadedly until her attention shift back toward me. I caught her eyes
with mine while her friend kept fucking her up her ass with her strap on erection. "Is cunt a
good fuck whore?" She closed her eyes, humiliated and answered. "She is Darling." I watched them
joined together grinding into each other. "Do you want it harder whore?" She nodded her head
humiliated...and moaned out her answer. "Whatever you want Darling." I looked at Vicki but spoke
to Stacey. "You heard her cunt. Give it to her good." She did too. She picked up the pace and
started to fuck her harder. As excited as I was my erection was fading. I placed it in whore's
gasping mouth and encouraged her to suck it back to its former status. As soon as I was excited
enough to come I would withdraw it from the reach of her tongue. To prolong the ordeal for
Vicki. She was soon reduced to a limp bundle of flesh open and vulnerable to our fucking. There
was no resistance to anything I directed toward her. Without coming in her mouth I walked back
over to the couch, and sat there watching Stacey rape her friend, at my direction. "Remove your
cock cunt." She withdrew it from Vicki's ass, and stood there waiting for my next command.
"NO..no...I meant unstrap it from YOU, stupid cunt." She moved quickly to comply, simultaneously
apologizing to me. She soon had it in her hands and was free of the male contraption. "Stick it
back in and get your ass over here." She pressed it back into the anal opening, she had just
withdrawn it from. She walked slowly back to the couch to join me. Her legs swung through her
hips, enhanced by the omnipresent heels that I had told her to slip on her feet. She walked up
to me and straddled me, sitting down on my erection like a pro. I let her slide down my entire
length, till I was buried in her completely. I sat beneath her, watching her rise up and down on
me content to let her ride me to a pleasant orgasm. Her head and glorious mane of red hair would
alternately blot and allow the light from an overhead lamp to reach my eyes. I reared up into
her, spearing her with my cock as high as I could get my pelvis. Reaching up to her breasts, I
mauled them roughly, causing a squeal to pass from her lips. I could not tell if it was in
delight or merely her expert acting ability. In the final analysis it did not matter. It was
just like her breasts. Who cares if they were fake, I enjoyed them and her squeals of delight
anyway, for what they were. I laid my head back to relax and closed my eyes to enjoy a lengthy
fuck from my preferred cunt. After a few more minutes I was interrupted by a noise, that I could
not place. Stacey too had heard it but continued to fuck herself on me. The noise repeated
again, it quick succession. Stacey had stopped fucking me and was sitting upright on my
erection, staring over into the corner where the dogs were tied up. I bend my torso around so I
could check on Vicki's position laying on the altar still. To my surprise she was not there.
Almost immediately Stacey jumped off my cock and right away she fell to the floor with a scream
in her haste to depart my lap. The blow from Vickie caught me by surprise, it was not
immediately painful as much as it was a surprise to me, and I quickly recovered. She was
screaming at me pure rage was displayed on her face. I had never seen anything like it before in
my life. The ugliness of her expression was terrifying to me. It was the first time since I had
taken either of the women that I have been truly afraid. Not even Jason holding a gun at my
temple had frightened me this much.
I too fled the couch following in Stacey's general path. Vickie was swearing at me calling me a
"filthy fucker" and an "animal" and that she was going to "kill me" for what I had done to her.
Mostly thought the noises she was making were unintelligible howls and hate filled screams. She
was swinging at me with the antique branding iron. It proved to be a formidable, though awkward
weapon for her slender arms. During her attack I had the briefest chance to glance over to where
the dogs were tied up. Her attack had begun with the dogs, and had been effective. One of the
animals was clearly dead, it skull being opened by the business end of the branding iron. The
other dog was surely crippled for life, its head was severely deformed and one of his front legs
was bent backward at a angle that was unnatural. No doubt it would soon be dead from its
injuries. She took another swing at me with the iron. The air brushed past my hair. I had to
focus on her attack if I did not wish to join the dogs. Stacey had scrambled into a corner and
was cowering terrified. I quickly maneuvered the leather covered altar between myself and
Vickie. This placed Stacey behind me. The altar kept Vickie at bay, if temporarily. She kept me
in her sights but began to calm down and started to talk to Stacey. "Help me Stace! I need your
help NOW!" Stacey did not move from her corner. She was scared, scared of me for what I would do
to her if she joined this rebellion, and scared too because of the events. "I can't." was her
feeble reply to the pleas of her friend. "Do you want to stay here and get fucked by this pig
forever. I sure as hell don't." She took another swipe at me that I leaned away from easily.
"I've been fucked for by this pig, that's for sure." I decided that it was time to try and
regain some control of the situation. "I'll be fucking you by within the hour if I want to
Whore. YOU BELONG TO ME!" I shouted at her intending to shake her up. "You belong to me for as
long as I want to keep you. I'm still not going to kill you despite what you did to my poor
dogs. I can always get more dogs." She was sniffling now. "Big friendly dogs who only want to
keep you safe." I could hear Stacey stirring to her feet behind me. "I can always get me another
bitch in here in case I get bored with one of you. Can't I Cunt. "He can't get your sister if
you help me kill him now Stace." She tried to run around the altar at to get at me. The altar
was on wheels and it was easy to keep the piece of furniture between us. "We can kill him right
now. Help me kill him Stace, and then we can get the hell out of here." Stacey did not reply but
she did stand there shaking gently. I started to push the altar into Vicki's body. She tried to
keep it away from her, with one arm and hold her weapon with the other. It was a loosing
position that she could not maintain. She knew this too, and began to back away from the altar.
I shoved it at her with all my might. It caught her, and knocked her off balance. I lunged at
her, she swung at me. Her blow caught me on my left shoulder blade, I heard the bone snap as it
broke. She fell and I fell on her. "How's it feel to have me on top of you again whore? Just
like old times?" She kicked and screamed at me, she was wise enough to try and focus on my
wounded shoulder blade. "Fancy a quick fuck whore?" I finally managed to wrestle the branding
iron from her hands and pressed it down on her windpipe cutting off the flow of air to her.
Choking her. Choking the life and the resistance from her body. She turned her attention to
Stacey, and pleaded for help. So did I. I looked right at her, got her attention. "In the
dungeon, go get my some sets of handcuffs from the drawer cunt." She moved slowly at my command,
but she moved at my command nonetheless. Both Vickie and I saw her obedience. I laughed at the
expression on Vicki's defeated face. Stacey returned with a handful of chains and handcuffs. I
released the pressure on her throat, and heaved the branding iron into the far corner where the
dog's bodies lay. It clanged and clattered around in the corner briefly. Vicki's hands closed
around her windpipe as she coughed and sputtered some as fresh air flooded back into her lungs.
I placed the handcuff gently on one wrist, and got her attention. I dragged her around by the
wrist till she had rolled herself over onto her stomach. I took hold of her other wrist and
fastened her arms behind her back. It was a simple matter to use three more pairs of cuffs to
mold her into a hog-tie position on her stomach on the floor. Defeated and under my control
again. I was breathing heavily, the fight had taken its toll on me, and now that the excitement
was over my collar bone was beginning to really ache. I patted her on her rump "Welcome back
whore." Her frustration at being beaten again boiled out from her, in a brief sentence that
said it all through clenched painfilled teeth. "I hate you!"
"We will have to finish our fuck another time cunt. Go and tuck yourself in for the night." She
responded with her yes darlings and walked back in the direction of the cells to reverse her
preparations.
With the women secured again I checked on the dogs. They were indeed both dead. Her attack was
reasonably well thought out. She could not come after me till she neutralized the dogs first.
They were sure neutral now. Waiting for me to become distracted with Stacey was clever too. I
pulled her up by her hair till she was balanced on her knees. "Nice try whore, but I still own
you. Do you hear me I own you whore." I emphasized this ownership with a forceful tug on her
hair. "I'm gonna put you to bed for the night, but tomorrow I'm gonna fuck you again. Just like
old times." The months of hatred was loosed from deep within her. "You better keep me like this
if you ever hope to do THAT to me ever again." I started to chuckle at her foolishness, I had to
crab my shoulder. I only hurts when I laugh. "If I have to I will. But I'm not through fucking
you yet whore. But I bet I'll have you cooperating just like old times soon. I'm not going to
kill you, yet. But I am going to make sure you regret you attack on me." With that said I
dragged her back to her cell by her hair, past cunt who was by this time just stepping into the
shower. I slammed the cell doors shut behind Vicki. The double doors made a very satisfying
clang as they sealed her in. Snug as a bug. I waited for cunt to finish her shower and to towel
off. I watched as she obediently placed herself back in her cell, and checked the locks on the
door. On both of the doors to both of the cells I added a large thick mechanical bar to further
seal them in. We all realized that this meant that I would be leaving the compound for an
extended period of time.
I did not know how long I would be gone. I intended to drive myself to the hospital for
treatment of the collar bone.
I arrived back on the surface to find that it was night time, checking my watch I found it to be
just after 8 PM. I started the drive to the hospital and was there within the hour. I told them
that I had fallen down a flight of stairs in my home earlier this evening. That helped to
explain the scratches as well. To my relief the injury was not as severe as I first expected. It
was a non dislocating stress fracture. There was no cast that was possible, or needed. I left
the hospital after a few hours with a prescription for some pain killers. Despite the ache that
traveled down my arm I decided I didn't need any medication. I knew what would make me feel
better, and her name was cunt.
The first thing that I did when I got back to the farm was to check on the animals. Vickie was
in the worse shape of the two women. I checked on her, she still had a temperature. I did not
know what was wrong with her. I certainly was not about to take her to see a physician. Her
hog-tie position prevented sleep and further sapped her strength. Despite her exhausted state
she was still terrified of me when I entered her cell. No doubt she feared I would do something
horrible to exact my revenge upon her. How silly she was. It would be far more exquisite to
leave her for a few days, pondering what terrible task I would make her perform for her
transgressions that to punish her right away. I examined her and stared at her face for several
minutes till she relaxed still further in my presence. I removed her chains that had been
holding her in the hog-tie position since she had attacked me earlier. She collapsed back onto
the bed in the cell, and lay flat on her stomach. I pulled her head up by her hair and fastened
her collar back around her neck and left her like that. I was in no hurry to punish her.
Stacey was not in such rough shape, compared with her friend. I found her sleeping comfortably
on the bed in her cell. Ever since I had first taken Stacey I had worked hard at maintaining a
record of her appearances in the popular press. There were newspaper articles, magazine articles
some national ones too, and of course television appearances. I had decided that it was time for
her to learn how her life ended. I showed these to her. One day I went to visit her in her cell.
The TV was blaring a porn flick for her amusement. It was some inane nonsense about women
converted into Hookers by new age music. I thought that she might pick up a few tricks from the
performances. I find that you can frequently find nuggets of useful information that are
educational even in the most obscure places. In reality I knew she would be able to teach the
Porn stars more than they could ever hope to know about pleasing a man. At least this man
anyway.
The scrapbook was rather large and I let her read it at her own pace and leisure. It started
out with talk of the conspiracy between herself and Jason to kill her husband. Then moved onto
topics she had little knowledge of. Speculation about her lesbian affair with her Divorce
attorney. The their flight from arrest after the murder of Jason. This hit her hard and she was
unable to read for a few minutes till she composed herself again. When she did continue, she
learned of the discovery of Vicki's car, and soon afterward she read of her own drowning death
in Mexico, and the efforts of her Sister to try and claim the remains from the Mexican coroner.
There was a brief piece on her sister who was trying to put her life back together after these
trying events. She was trying to go back to school. But without the financial support she had
enjoyed from her older sister she was having to put her education on hold for a few years. There
were some pictures of the sister at her new job. She was the attendant at the drive through
window of an eatery near the University. That way she could stay in touch with her former
friends from school as they continued their education. I also had her watch a videotaped
interview of her sister in which the poor girl tried to defend her older sister, and professed
her belief in her innocence. But that since her death in Mexico, there would be no trial to
decide this once and for all. There was a matching piece with a picture of myself sitting with
the girl. I had volunteered my services to help her clear her sister's name. This was all too
touching. Too bad that everything I had found seemed to incriminate her even more. Stacey was
filled with emotion and could barely sit still to read the rest. Hers eyes were flowing freely
with tears. The newsprint of the scrapbook was being soaked with them.
There was also news of Richard Potter's engagement to his newest love of his life, his former
Nurse. Stacey could be proud of her actions, on one level anyway. After all her actions had
brought them together. If she had never tried to kill her husband he would never have had the
chance to meet her. Sweet girl, at least I thought so in from the picture in the paper. Her hand
was resting on his thigh. I remembered meeting her at his mansion that day. She sure knew how to
fill out a sweater. In the pictures in the society column of the paper, her chest looked even
fuller. Perhaps Mr. Potters millions had worked their magic on her bustline as well. Toward the
end of the book I had made another contribution to the Stacey Potter story. It was a close-up
picture of her face. There was enough makeup on her face to make even the cheapest streetwalker
mistake her of one of their own. Her eyes were wide open and staring straight ahead at my
erection. Vickie had taken the picture, and she had done a good job of it too. She had framed
the picture perfectly to catch the jet of my cum as it arced through the air and splashed into
her mouth and against her face. The image of her was the personification of what she was today.
Of the slut that I had made her into, and would keep her as. For as long as I found her
entertaining and desirable. She looked at the picture briefly then closed the scrapbook. She
handed her life back to me. "Is it true? I this what you did to me?" I thought for a moment and
answered her. "NO cunt. This is what you did to yourself. What your greed did to you. Your greed
led you to marry for money rather than love. It wasn't a great life, but many women would have
been glad to change places with you. Some have even killed to get into such a situation. But
your greed was your downfall. It led you to attempt murder to escape your gilded cage. The
gilded cage that you worked so hard to marry into. Your greed that led you into my care and
precipitated all these events. Sure I did it to you but it was your greed that killed Jason and
brought you here. You and your friend. My cunt and my whore." I swept my arm in a broad sweep of
her surroundings. "Your new cage is not as lavish as the one your greed freed you from. But you
don't really mind do you cunt?" I didn't give her a chance to answer. She was going to answer
this rhetorical question, she could not take the chance not to answer for fear of reprisal in
case it was not rhetorical. "It does not matter if you mind anyway cunt. All that matters is
that I don't mind your living conditions. And I don't in fact I find them just fine."
I had decided on further duties for her, to keep her busy. She was doing her own laundry,
thought her wardrobe was limited to silly frilly lingerie. There was no reason that I could not
add to her workload. From now on I would deliver my laundry to her. She prepared her own meals.
Likewise she would now prepare mine as well.
After explaining her new duties I rose from her bed and tugged at the chain around her neck
pulling her from her cell. I pulled her through the bathroom/shower station, through the
dressing/makeup room, through the bedroom chamber where we had spent so much time together. And
into the multi purpose room. The was in effect a torture chamber. She was unaccustomed to this
room, being as obedient as she was. I spent a few minutes strapping her down to a table. I took
patroller pains to make sure her feet and legs were held down tightly. I ran my fingers over her
tattoo. The one on her ankle of a rosebud that was just opening. It was lovely work. An artist,
rather than a hack had made this mark on her ankle. I quickly blindfolded her so that her
tension, and apprehension would be increased. In the corner was a cart on wheels, that was
covered with a sheet. I retrieved the cart and uncovered it. I plugged it in and began to work
slowly and carefully. She recognized the sound, and when it began the irritating pin pricking of
the tattoo needle as it forced the ink under her skin, slowly spreading the design that I had in
mind for her ankle. It took me a long time. I was patient, I was an amateur who could not afford
to make too many mistakes. Some mistakes could be covered up. But I wanted it to look nice on
her. I didn't want it to look like a tattoo that had been done to her while in jail. It took me
the better part of an afternoon to finish what I was doing. I released her and let her remove
the blindfold. Her fingers traveled down to her ankle and felt around first, then followed by
her eyes to examine her new adornment. I had made two circuits of her ankle, the rosebud was
still visible, but it was trapped behind two complete circuits of chain that I had wound around
her ankle. A permanent visible reminder that she was my prisoner, my property and that I would
never let her go free. It also served a dual purpose. If I were to take her out in public, after
maybe a year or more of time had elapsed. I no longer needed to be concerned that I conceal her
rosebud tattoo. My explanation would go as follows. 'Sure she looked like Stacey Potter, but
Stacey had died in Mexico. This woman had a tattoo but it was different that the one that that
infamous woman had.' I planned on making another subtle change to her too. I liked her red hair
immensely. I prefer blondes, but I no permanent plans of changing her to a blonde. Maybe for a
week she could be a blonde. But I did like the idea of changing her into a more dramatic
redhead. Something bright and shocking. Something she had no control of, something that would be
humiliating to her. Although it was becoming increasingly difficult to find things that were
humiliating to her. She had been broken down so low by this point.
I awoke the next day determined to do two things. I wanted to reward Stacey for her loyalty and
obedience, and I wanted to punish Vickie for her escape attempt. As frequently happens, the idea
came to me in my dreams. I wasted no time in making the preparations. Two my great irritation I
could not complete all the arrangements necessary to pull of the great event today it would have
to wait for the following day.
I found that the longer that I spent with the women the more I missed the sun. This was in part
a motivation for the preparation of their more permanent dungeon with its pool and patio areas.
I made an environment that I could safely use them outside in the sun. It would be good for all
of us to have some sun and fresh air for a change. This day was certainly going to do me a world
of good.
I had moved a long oak dining room table and three matching chairs onto the Mexican tiles of
the patio for the occasion. The table was enormous, at nearly twenty feet long. I had prepared
an elegant dinner party for us to celebrate the completion of their dungeon complex. I had
filled the pool recently and decided upon a dinner party to christen the event. I moved the
women to the table simultaneously. This time I had dressed their trim figures identically. They
were wearing their heels, and they were wearing matching bikinis which would be illegal on most
beaches. The price of bikinis was inversely proportional to the amount of material in them, and
these were incredibly expensive. They were quite see through, and if the girls moved suddenly
enough their assets would have tumbled out for me to see. They left a little to the imagination,
but not much. To minimize their flight risk, and keep in mind their status I had chained each of
their ankles shackled together by a two foot chain. They would not have much chance to escape,
and these fetters decreased what little chance they had still further.
I sat at the head of the table, naturally, and directed them to take their places along the
sides of the table. Stacey on my right, and Vicki on my left with the pool behind her. The women
surveyed their surrounding. The building which housed them and the underground dungeon was new
to them, as was the patio area, the pool and the high rot iron fence that surrounded the
structure. Several dense trees and the contour of the landscaping prevented a clear view of the
farmhouse. But if you walked down the path to the gate you could view the farmhouse see the
highway with the traffic a few hundred feet in the distance.
On the table itself each woman had a carafe of wine, and a glass (made of plastic as a
precaution). Each woman's dish was covered by a silver cover. There were fresh cut flowers and
candles on the table as well. The table setting and the environment was all too elegant. It was
approaching dusk. By the time we were finished with dinner, we could all go for a lovely evening
swim. I gave this outlined plan to the ladies. "And after our swim we can all enjoy each other
in the hot tub." The implication of a mini orgy in the hot tub was unmistakable. "How does that
sound cunt?" "That sounds great darling." I turned my attention to Vickie. "And how bout you.
Does that sound like fun whore?" She glared back at me with hate filled eyes. "NO." Was all she
said back to me. I could see Stacey trembling in her chair at the defiance of her friend. "I
thought you might say that. I could chain you up and rape you forever, feed you through tubes.
Keep you alive forever. But it is your cooperation that I want, whore. And I aim to get it." I
let the statement sink in for a moment or two. "We are going to have our dinner. Eat up cunt."
She removed the silver cover from the plate revealing her dinner. It was a pasta dish that I had
had delivered from a local restaurant. Curried pasta with chicken. It smelled divine. It was one
of my favorite dishes. I had ordered the same dish. I watched as Stacey began to eat it was
clear she was enjoying the meal and the wine. She ate slowly, and could not finish the entire
plateful of food. She had become accustomed to being fed very little by me and her stomach had
contracted to a very small size. Proportional to the size of her daily meals.
"You really should join us whore, it is quite a lovely meal that you are missing." She did not
react at all." By this time I had finished my plate and lay back in the chair relaxing. Stacey
was sitting, her back straight, and her posture perfect sipping nervously at her wine. I could
see her nipples poking through the delicate fabric of her bikini. They were puffy and soft and
tender to the touch. If she weren't such an obedient cunt I would have paid some cruel attention
to them, to cause her to suffer. But there was no need for that with this one. Vickie was
entirely different, this was my last chance to break her, as it appears that I had done with her
health. Albeit inadvertently. I could see her rings through the fabric of her top. Before she
sat down her garment, if it could be called that, was so revealing that I could see the tiny
padlock that I had placed in her crotch.
"Eat your dinner whore." She didn't move, or make a sound. I approached her and crouched down
beside her, I placed a pair of locking pliers on the table near her plate.
"Don't make me say it again whore." She closed her eyes to me and the impending tortures that I
was threatening her with. "My name is Vickie." She was defiant, she never learns. "Give me your
hand whore." She did not comply. I had to take it, she did not offer physical resistance. She
knew she could not beat me physically, but she was determined to offer passive resistance. I
placed the small finger of her right hand in the grip of the pliers, and squeezed them shut. I
did not press hard just hard enough to get her attention. She gasped at the pressure of the
tool. Stacey chimed in. "Please, do what he wants. He'll just make it worse for both of us." I
squeezed still harder. "I already have a way to make it worse, at least for you whore."
Eventually she relented and gave in. "Ok...ok ..ok what do you want me to do." I released her
finger, there was no permanent damage done, just sore and redness. "Eat your dinner first, then
we'll start." I turned and walked back to my seat. As I did I heard her remove the cover, she
let out a blood curdling scream. I heard the chair fly back and fall over as she jumped to her
feet and stumbled back from the table. The silver lid crashed to the tiled floor. Her meal was
different that ours was. She had to be punished for her attack on me and her killing of my dogs.
Her meal was in a bowl that had high edges. Despite this precaution some of her meal managed to
get out of the bowl. I had managed to sit down at the head of the table by this time. She was
standing there shaking in fear. "These insects are almost pure protein whore. They'll do you a
world of good. Now sit down and eat them before they all wriggle away and your left with nothing
to eat." I watched a stain beginning to form in her pants. She was so scared that she had
actually wet herself in fear. Her crotch and thighs were soon covered in her own piss.
She just stood there in her bikini, heels, chains and piss, too afraid to do anything else. I
retrieved some more chains and leather belts and dropped them on the table. I held up for her to
see, her familiar ring gag. I snapped in taught in both hands. "Either way you are going to eat
these roaches whore. You can either cooperate, or I will make you do it. Choose!" Stacey was
sitting there crying. She knew that I would win, and she dreaded what she was going to have to
witness.
Vickie made the only decision her battered psyche could, she made a break for it, running off
down the path screaming for help, toward the gate. I sat there knowing she would not get too
far. Not with her ankle chain keeping the length of her pace short. I let her get about halfway
down the path and started off after her, after first securing Stacey quickly to the table with a
pair of cuffs. You can never be to careful. I found her as she had just reached the gate. She
was clutching the bars with both her hands. I walked up behind her. She was trying to climb up
the gate but she could not manage it. She was too weak to make it. Her ankle chain also
prevented her from climbing. Her cries for help had trailed on to more feeble cries for help.
She could see the cars and trucks driving back and forth along the road. Freedom, it was so near
to her now. But it would get no closer for her. She would never be free. At least not until
death freed her. I stood there with her till she calmed her self down. It took about 25 minutes
before she was ready to return to the table. When she was there I fastened her to the chair till
she could not move an inch. The ring gag went in last. She couldn't feed herself all trusted up
like that and needed some help. So I had cunt feed her the meal. After the meal we left her like
that and went for a swim together. Afterward we relaxed in the hot tub together. I took her in
all her holes, for several hours, then sent her to bed. I removed the gag from Vickie mouth.
Then dragged, still bound to the chair back to her cell, and left her like that. As soon as we
got there she fell back unconscious again. I wondered whether that kind of treatment would make
her more cooperative.
The threat of ruining Barry's life with his little indiscretion with Stacey, had motivated him.
I did have to mail some pictures of his night of fucking my trophy wife to his office, with the
threat of sending these juicy photos to his wife. The little fucker must have tried really hard.
I didn't actually expect him to pull it off, but I am impressed with what he did manage to
secure for me. My companies name was added to the list of those companies selected to be called
upon when an inmate was recently released back into the community and into a half way house
setting. Because of the nature of my business, I was able to convince the parole board that I
didn't think that I could make use of any men for any investigative or security work. But that I
could always use some clerical help around the office, and that I would be willing to take on
some extra female staff in the office. And soon enough some profiles of recently released women
were being delivered to my office. I had them added to the regular courier package that I had
sent daily to my farm.
The next day I made Stacey change into the typical outfit I liked to use her in. I went to
collect her. I took her up into the real world, up to the patio. It was a glorious sunny day,
without a cloud in the sky. I had a plateful of assorted fruits and vegetables laid out for me.
There was also a pitcher of Margaritas for me. I had her remove my clothes. When I was naked I
sat down at the patio table. All I had to do was to make a gesture with my arm and she was
kneeling before me. She quickly thrust her head into my crotch and began to work on my cock with
feverish intensity. The folders of the soon to be paroled female candidates that Barry had
provided for my consideration were laid out on the table. It was time for me to review their
cases to see if there were suitable candidates for me.
I was amazed at the sheer volume of women from whom I could select my future employee from.
Most of the candidates were hopelessly unsuitable. Most were drug convictions, and they were
clearly so deficient in intelligence that they thought that the only use for paper somehow
involved rolling or otherwise smoking it. I had there medical reports too. I quickly discarded
those that were HIV+ and those that were otherwise unhealthy. I also discarded those that had
any children. Likewise any who had nearby relatives or other close ties to the community I also
placed in the reject pile. I was surprised to find that most were black too, which raised
interesting possibilities. I rather liked the idea of having a hot black chic chained up and
helpless at my mercy. I settled on a black woman who had exceptionally refined features. She was
shapely without being hardened by her stay in prison. She wasn't convicted for a petty crime
like drugs, she had done some serious time for fraud. She had embezzled large sums from her
previous employer, a bank. She was seriously stupid to try fucking with a bank. Maybe she had
learned her lesson. If she worked out, and I hired her, I think I would be well served by her. I
think it would be delightful to have her crawling to me and having her call me 'Mass'. The
thought brought to me a tiny twinge of guilt. Not being much of a racist I might have some
trouble pulling this off. But I expect that the feeling of having my cum slide down her throat
would assuage any twinges of white male guilt.
The other decent candidate was a woman who was closer to my type, in her prison picture she was
pale skinned. Incredibly so, her skin was almost like porcelain, her long straight black hair
made the contrast that much more striking. She was not nearly as tall an the two women I now
owned, nor as shapely. The few years she had been behind bars had harmed her once shapely
figure, but it did not appear to be too bad. Her figure wasn't so bad that I couldn't whip her
into shape. She was the boney nun kind of woman, frail yet resilient at the same time.
Her crime was severe also. She had murdered her husband, and had gotten a lenient sentence with
a 'battered wife defense.' You can always count on the lawyers of this world to find ways for
their weasel clients to cheat the justice system. The prosecutors were to blame too! Sure they
were overworked but they didn't have to make the situation worse by pleading every case with
some new trendy defense. Battered wife syndrome. Jesus its enough to make you sick. Jimmy
Breslin once wrote; "The only justice in the Halls of Justice, is in the halls." Well he ought
to come over to my place for a visit. I have a guest house than is full of justice being served.
Rough justice, sure but justice nonetheless. But there was still only so much I could do as one
man. After all, I only have room for one more in my guesthouse. Unless of course Vicki's health
failed even further. I had no way of knowing what was wrong with her. I certainly couldn't take
her to hospital. I also didn't want her to die either. But if she did I figured it would be a
just sentence for her crimes.
Stacey's tongue was seriously distracting me now. I looked down to see her beautiful face
bobbing up and down in my lap. I let the paperwork fall from my fingers to the floor and
replaced them with her hair.
Like I said at the beginning. I'm not really a bad guy. I could feel myself beginning to cum
again.
Who to choose?
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Author's Notes
I wanted to write a story to give back something to the community. Most readers have been quite
kind in their comments to me and I have met many people who I would call friends. Sad to say
that I have lost touch with some of you though. One of the sad perils of this modern online
life.
I tried to work in the comments and suggestions that you provided during the course of this
work, but sometimes the ideas and suggestions, were a little too far out to include in the
story. (I.E. Aliens, radical surgery... etc etc.) Some readers took my decision to not include
their ideads pretty personally, as if I were attacking them or something. Several readers were
quite complimentary, not only to the writing but referring to the material as being able to fit
in a "genre" (I'm sorry but I thought it was porn, I.E. whack off material, rather than a
genre). Anyway...that struck me as funny.
I had several goals in the work. I wanted it to seem somewhat realistic and possible. (Though
far fetched, several killers have achieved similar situations. Such notable criminals include
Gary Heidnik, Leonard Lake & Charles Ng, and of course who can forget the infamous nutter
Cameron Hooker and his wife. (Who kept someone imprisoned for seven years!)
Of course I wanted to titillate readers as well, which I think I did. (As always you be the
judge!)
I also wanted to leave the possibility of future chapters available, which if you have read all
the parts I think I have done this also. I do need a break from these characters. But I think
that there is some life left in the storyline. As always if you have some ideas that you would
like to see developed let me know. If I ever do have the inclination to do further chapter, I
may include them.
I am working on another story that enjoys some broad plot similarities as this one. It is
tentatively called "Chipper." And I expect it to be a far more gruesome, and murderous tale than
this one. I expect it to be only a couple of episodes in length. More along the lines of the
Parker Story Drilling Devon. For those of you pervs who have not read it, I recommend it and all
the other Parker stories. Which are available at http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/index.html
And lastly I wanted to shock, which I think I did. I definitely wanted it to be non-consensual,
throughout the story, at least till the very end. Those of you who I haven't shocked thusfar I
hope I will with the next sentence. Elements of the story have been TRUE, and I have taken them
from my own experiences with the CONSENTUAL lovers of my past. About 60-70 percent of the scenes
described in the story are based upon actual events in my past that I and my CONSENTUAL LOVERS
acted out. I cannot stress this enough....THEY WERE CONSENTUAL RELATIONSHIPS!!! (nuff said!)
special_kwa@hotmail.com
