SPRING BREAK ON A TEXAS ESTATE

CH 1

It had been a long tiring week. By Friday evening I needed a rest. The girls were sweet when I got home. The house was spotless and they had a glass of wine ready for me. They made dinner while I relaxed. It was nice to sit and do nothing for a while.

After dinner they rushed me upstairs and insisted that I take a long hot bubble bath. They ran down to clear off the dishes.

While I soaked in the tub I heard someone moving quietly in my bedroom, and heard a barely suppressed giggle. When I came out of the bath I had to laugh. Lying on my bed was a set of wrist and ankle cuffs and a blindfold. I felt a sweet little tingle in my pussy at the sight. I opened the door and called downstairs: "Ok, but you have to rub lotion on my body first."

"Ok Mom," Kathy said.

I toweled myself dry, then buckled the cuffs on my wrists and ankles. Then I picked out a whip and hung it on the hook over the head board. I sat on the bed, spread my feet and snapped the chains to my ankles, then I put the blindfold on. It was a new one and I liked it. It buckled behind my head and had a chin strap. It was going to stay in place. No amount of rubbing my head against the bedding would unseat it. I lay back and carefully felt for the wrists chains, and snapped them on my cuffs.

I lay there for a moment, then called out: "Ready!"

There was an instant rush of bare feet up the stairs and two giggling, squealing girls were on me. I heard the ratchets clicking as they tightened my chains. I was stretched wide, then wider. I gasped with a thrill as they pulled my legs wider and wider still. My shoulders hurt as my wrists were tugged further apart than usual, and as usual, the pain excited me. When I was sure they were going to dislocate my joints, the clicking stopped. My first orgasm of the evening tingled through my belly.

Soft hands began to explore my body, and warm body oil was rubbed into my skin. I sighed with delight. They took their time and rubbed the oil over every inch of my skin, especially my breasts and pussy. I wanted to tell them not to use up all my body oil but the rules are that whoever is tied up can't open her mouth to speak unless given permission. Of course, whoever is tied up usually has her mouth occupied in other activities beside talking.

Eventually the massage stopped and I felt the bed shift as one of them positioned herself over my face and the other between my legs. I felt that wonderful, delightful sensation of a girl's soft breath on my pussy just as another pussy was lowered onto my face. My tongue was out instantly.

I was in Heaven. Eating a pussy and having mine eaten.

When the girl on my face came, she crawled off and was replaced by the other. I licked and kissed and nibbled until she too came.

While the girls we recovering one of them must have spotted the whip. I heard someone take it off the hook. "Aunt Beth must be in a naughty mood," my niece said. "Look at this whip."

"Mom did you get a whip out?" my daughter demanded. I nodded. They giggled.

The whip smacked my breast. Lightning shot through my body. I came instantly. The girls squealed in delight.

They took turns whipping me, then Kathy got out another whip and they both rained blows on my body. I was gasping, groaning, writhing in my chains, and coming constantly. They took occasional breaks and rested by sitting on my face.

The girls were whipping a beast each when there was a commotion downstairs. The whips stopped and I heard the girls run out of the room. I heard voices and loud footsteps on the stairs. The boys were home.

I heard a strange male voice: "Wow, what is this?"

"What's the matter, haven't you ever seen a naked woman chained to a bed?" I heard my son Tom say.

"Why is she chained to the bed?" the first voice asked.

"So she can be tortured and fucked," my son answered. "Friday night is slave night around here."

"Cool!"

"No fair," I heard my niece say. "You guys weren't supposed to be here until tomorrow. We were going to have a girls only night."

"Not any more," my son laughed. I heard a brief scuffle and indignant feminine squeals and I knew what was happening. The boys were tying the girls up.

After a number of indignant squeaks and whimpers, and a lot of male laughter, I heard the boys drag the girls out of the room. I listened to their voices down the hall as they tied Kathy in her bedroom and her cousin in hers.

I tried to determine how many boys were in the house. My sons had told me they were bringing some buddies down for spring break but hadn't said how many there were going to be. From the voices I estimated they had at least three, and possible four friends with them.

Someone returned to the room, and without warning a whip crashed across my breasts. This was no girlish whipping, I was being whipped by a fully grown male. The orgasms started within seconds.

After whipping me for a wonderfully long time whoever he was, crawled atop me and thrust his cock into my pussy. I came again. Another boy climbed on top of me and I listened to my son Mark explain the customs of the house to his guests as they watched me being fucked.

The rest of the evening was a delicious blur of whips, nipple clamps and fucking, inter spaced with cocks in my mouth. I remember hearing screams coming from the girls' rooms.

The odd thing about being blindfolded for hours is that you loose track of time. I slept, or fainted, from time to time, to be awakened by one of the boys climbing on me, or biting a nipple or doing some other form of torture. I lost count of my orgasms early on.

The boys finally ran out of steam. Someone removed my blindfold and I felt the chains being unclipped. I blinked until my eyes could focus. There were six naked boys in the room. My son introduced them. They were all polite well mannered young men and two even kissed my hand in a courtly fashion, although my hand and feet were so numb I could barely feel them. I staggered to my feet and looked down at my body. I was covered with hundreds of whip marks and thickly bespattered with dried cum. I tried to walk to the bath room but I was so shaky that I tottered and almost fell. The boys carried me in and closed the door.

I took along hot shower and felt much better. I was surprised that I was very hungry because it was only midnight. I slipped on a filmy negligee, I would have preferred my thick and comfy bath robe, but after all, we had guests in the house and another rule is that the women must display their bodies on slave night.

I looked in on the girls. Both were still tied to their beds and both were sound asleep. Like me, their bodies showed the effects of hours or torture.

The boys were sitting around the kitchen table, and they rose politely when I came in.

"I don't know about you, but I'm famished," I told them. "How would you like a snack?" They agreed enthusiastically, and helped me make sandwiches and milk.

"I can't imagine why I'm so hungry," I said as we ate. "I had a very nice dinner this evening."

The boys looked sheepish. "Actually Ma am, you had dinner last night. This is Saturday night."

I put down my sandwich in astonishment. Tom grinned at me. "Yep, we've been fucking you for over thirty hours."

They burst into laughter.

"My God!" I said. "No wonder my pussy is so sore, and just look what you've done to my body." I opened my negligee to show my whip marks.

"They fade after a few days, Mom," Mark laughed. "You know that."

"Besides Mrs. Albers, They're only on your front. We didn't whip your back at all." One of the boys pointed out.

"No, and you didn't fuck me in the ass either," I said. "I suppose I should be grateful for that too."

They all grinned.

"Well, actually Ma am, , , I was sort of thinking about fucking you in the ass," one of them said.

"It sure is pretty," another chimed in.

"And it loves a good whipping," Tom laughed. I blushed because he was right.

"All right, I suppose you all want to fuck me again," I said. They nodded. "And whip me on my ass too?" I asked. They nodded enthusiastically. I sighed. "Give a few minutes to change the sheets on the bed, then come up and chain me down again."

The fresh sheets felt good as they spread me face down and tightened the chains. I had a pillow under my stomach and my blindfold was securely in place. I wriggled my butt in anticipation. I would loved to have a good night's sleep, but my mother raised me to be a gracious hostess and to try always to see to the needs of her guests.

SPRING BREAK

Ch 2

I spent all of Saturday night and part of the next morning tied face down to my bed. The boys whipped and fucked me, over and over and over. The night seemed to blur as I fell asleep every time they left me alone, only to be startled awake with by a whip smack across my butt, or a cock rammed up my ass. I remember at one point feeling the weight of someone's body on my back and his snores in my ear as one of the boys had fallen asleep atop me. It wasn't bad, his body kept me warm.

One time I jerked awake to piercing scream. I heard my daughter Kathy shrieking in her room as they tortured her. I assumed that her brother Tom was yanking on her nipples with pliers again. He always seems to know the best way to torment his sister. Kathy loves having her breasts tortured and actually has orgasms from the pain. She discovered it when she was fourteen and I gave her permission to be tortured. The first time her brothers pinched her nipples with a pincer she fainted from ecstasy. That same evening they worked on my breasts for hours trying to make me come the same way. I liked it, but have never been able to come the way my daughter does. That hasn't stopped the boys from continuing the effort.

I lay awake for a while listening to the boys talking and laughing while Kathy shrieked. From the sound of things my niece Ann wasn't being ignored either. The sounds of fucking mixed with the smack of a whip came from her room. Being a mother I long ago learned to tell exactly which part of the house noises were coming from.

I woke up and found that I was curled up under the blankets. My blindfold was gone but I still wore the cuffs on my wrists and ankles. I glanced at the clock. It was ten am. I rolled onto my back and yelped when my back, tender from the whip, made contact with the bed. I lay still for a moment getting used to the pain, and the tingle it produced in my pussy, then I stretched contentedly and lay there lazily looking up at the ceiling. The house was quiet

After a long lazy while I got up and tiptoed through the house. Both girls were asleep in their beds. One of Tom's guests was curled up next to Ann, his arm was over her body protectively.

I looked in on my daughter. Like me, Kathy still wore her cuffs but she was flat on her back sleeping soundly. Snores came from the boys' rooms and the guest bedrooms.

I went down to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. The morning was warm and humid and I walked naked down the drive to get the Sunday papers. The house sits so far from the road that I didn't worry about being seen.

I sat on the porch and read the paper. I drank cup after cup of coffee, realizing that I'd only had a sandwich and a glass of milk since everything began Friday evening. I was starving but dreaded the idea of cooking breakfast for that entire mob of boys and girls.

One of the boys came down to the kitchen. His name was Peter. He was in his shorts and looked far too bright and chipper for someone who'd just spent two nights and a day torturing women. He poured himself a cup of coffee and joined me on the porch. Peter was nice and polite. He comes from a good family in Florida. It turned out that while I'd never met his folks, my husband had done business with his father.

Peter is a gentleman, I saw him pretending not to look at my nude body. I teased him for a while, crossing and uncrossing my legs until finally I laughed and spread my legs.

"Go head and look all you want. You've seen me naked before," I laughed. "How many times did you fuck me last night? How many times did you whip my body?" His cock popped through the fly of his shorts. He blushed sweetly and tried to poke it back inside.

"I fucked you lots of times, Ma am," he said. "I lost count but I sure liked it."

"What about torturing me?" I asked. "Did you like that too?"

"Yes ma am."

"Have you ever tortured a woman before?" I asked.

He shook his head.

"Well remember, you should only torture ladies who like it," I said. "Never hurt a girl who doesn't enjoy pain."

"This is all pretty new to me," he confessed. "Are there many ladies who like to be tortured?"

"Heavens, yes," I said. "But the trick is finding the ones that do."

He nodded. "That's some trick though. I mean, , , do I just ask them?"

"Its just like dating," I told him. "You must always be a gentleman about the way you approach the question, but yes, once you meet a girl and get to know her well enough to think she might be receptive, just ask her."

He nodded thoughtfully.

I glanced wearily at the kitchen.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

"Yes Ma am. Starving."

"I ought to be a good hostess and make breakfast, but I'm just too tired. Besides, all those corpses upstairs will be coming to life at different times. If I cook now it will be cold by the time the last one is awake." I glanced at his cock, poking through his shorts again. "Can I offer you a bribe to do something for me?"

"Sure thing, Ma am."

I got out of my chair and crawled to between his legs. I grasped the legs of his shorts in my teeth and tugged it. His cock flew upward. I nuzzled it with my forehead.

"If you'll drive my car into town and bring back breakfast from the deli, I'll suck your cock."

"Oh, I'd do it anyway Mrs. Albers," he said. "You wouldn't have to , , , do that."

I tugged his shorts again with my teeth. "But I like doing it."

He lifted his hips and I slid his shorts off. I crossed my wrists behind my back, pretending they were tied, and slipped my lips around his cock. It occurred to me that this cock had been inside my pussy, my ass and likely my mouth before, as well as the girls' pussies, and asses. Oh well.

When he came, I let his cum spurt onto my face. I love college age boys, they seem to be able to come any time and they produce gallons. I adore having a man come in my face.

After he rested a moment, Peter went upstairs and dressed. When he came down I gave him some money, the keys to my Mercedes and directions to a breakfast deli in town. I told him to bring back enough food for twice as many people as were in the house. I've had lots of experience with teen aged appetites, especially when the teenagers have been expending a lot of energy.

I went to my room and showered for an hour. I slipped into loose shorts and a tee shirt. My skin was too tender for underwear so I went panty and bra less.

Peter had returned with the food and a couple of other boys were in the kitchen eating. They rose politely when I entered.

Mark entered leading Ann on a leash. She was naked and had her hands bound behind her back. She was pouting. "Aunt Beth, will you please tell him that slave night is over," she said to me.

Mark made a magical pass with his hands over her head. "I hear by declare that slave night is now become slave weekend," he pronounced. The boys applauded.

Ann stamped her foot. "No fair!" she cried. "I've been tied up for two nights now!"

"And you'll stay tied up for at least one more," Mark said. He yanked her across his lap and spanked her several times. She wriggled and tried to frown, but a smile peeped around the corners of her mouth.

"Aunt Beth, help," she cried.

"Sorry dear, but I'm too tired," I answered.

"She can't help you," Mark told Ann, "She's in slave status too."

"Oh no I'm not," I said firmly. He ignored me and rummaged through a drawer until he found a pair of handcuffs. He approached me with them. The guests watched wide eyed.

"Ok Mom, hands behind your back."

I laughed helplessly and extended my wrists. "Slave status or not, I'm issuing a command," I said. "The girls and I are exhausted. You may extend slave night to cover tonight, but we get a break during the day. No sex or torture until sundown."

Mark considered it, then shrugged. "Ok, but you and the girls have to wear chains all day long."

I shrugged and nodded.

"And you have to be naked," he grinned wickedly.

"Deal," I said resignedly. I stripped off my shorts and tee shirt. Mark cuffed my hands in front and slipped a hobble on my ankles. He showed one of the other boys how to fit Ann out the same way.

"Do you have bondage stuff all over the house?" one boy asked amazed.

"Yup, pretty much in every room," Mark told him. "You never know when you'll need to tie up a woman and you don't want to have to hunt all over the house for the things you need."

"That's not quite true," I said. "Its just that handcuffs and ropes end up lying every where when someone is finished using them, and so they get put away where ever a handy place can be found."

"Oh."

"Would one of you go and wake up Kathy," I asked. "You can bring her down in chains, but tell her its time for breakfast."

There was a mad stampede toward the stairs.

We spent the day relaxing. The boys played frisbee and tossed a football on the lawns while the girls and I lounged by the pool. The girls grumbled about having to wear chains but I could tell that they secretly enjoyed themselves. They liked having the boys look at them, and the boys stared every time one of us got up to walk. I think there's nothing cuter than a girl mincing around in leg irons. It makes her breasts jiggle enticingly. The girls had difficulty walking and toppled over onto the grass more than once, to the boys' delight. I had no difficulty walking in hobbles, having worn restraints since my wedding day, but I jiggled for the boys anyway.

The boys barbecued a late lunch and in the afternoon everyone napped. I fell asleep on a chaise lounge and awoke to find that someone had locked my ankles and wrists to the frame. The girls were in the same situation and no amount of pleading and pouting would get the boys to release us until Tom and Mark made us agree to let them hang us on the gallows tree after sunset.

The guests had to be told what that entailed, and a couple of them were shocked to hear that they were going to hang us by our necks. Mark explained that we wouldn't die, we would just be hung for a few minutes at a time and be lowered any time we were close to being injured. I had to reassure our guests that I have been hung many times in the past, and while there was a slight danger, the plus side was that we slaves would have orgasms that were intense beyond belief.

The boys made the nooses and looped them over a limb. The girls eyed them nervously all afternoon. They had never been hung yet, but I was excited. My husband hung me up and whipped me on our wedding night and I remember that cosmic orgasm to this day.

As soon as the sun went down we were yanked out of our chairs and our wrists retied behind our backs. The boys used rope and to my delight they tied us very tightly. Kathy even taunted them by asking to have her ropes made tighter and questioned their ability to tie proper knots. They also tied our legs together, which I don't like, I prefer being able to kick my legs and let everyone see my pussy when I'm being hanged.

The guests watched wide eyed as Mark slipped a noose over my head and snugged it against my neck. He handed the end to his brother and they lifted me off my feet. A wild thrill shot through my belly when I felt the rope tighten. My vision went dim and of course I couldn't breathe. They held me for a minute then lowered me. Mark loosened the noose.

"Are you ok, Ma am?" one of the guests asked, very concerned. I smiled and nodded.

"Do it again," I said. I came the third time they hoisted me up.

The girls had never been hung. Ann looked a little worried, but Kathy was so excited that she was trembling. She had an orgasm the first time they hoisted her up. Her cousin watched wide eyed at the expression of pure ecstasy on Kathy's face. She hopped closer to her noose.

Mark watched carefully as we were hung and whipped. I was touched that he didn't get to whip us, so concerned about our safety he was.

They untied our legs and tied them wide apart to other limbs, that way they could fuck us while we were supported by our nooses. After about a hundred orgasms they carried us to our rooms and the serious fucking began.

Ch 3

Sunday evening turned into Monday morning and I was still tied to my bed. The boys were insatiable, especially Peter, who seemed to have taken a fancy to me. He ignored Ann and Kathy and took all his turns with me. It was flattering, but he seemed to be in a romantic mood and only wanted to fuck me. I had to remind him that I was a slave should be tortured me as well. When I finally convinced him that I liked the whip, he got with it and whipped me soundly. He discovered the delights of kneeling between my legs and whipping my breasts while he thrust his cock into me. In fact he was engaged in doing that when the house keeper walked in.

"Well, and just might you be?" Maria asked Peter.

A look of pure astonishment came across his face and he jumped off the bed. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Maria is a few years older than me and has worked for us since I came to the house after my wedding. She is a dear and loyal member of the family. She is large and imposing and since my husband died has taken on the role of my protector. We exchanged a glance and I saw the twinkle in her eyes. Embarrassed, poor Peter did not see it.

"Uh, I uh, I'm a friend of Mark from college," he stammered. "There are several of us here for spring break."

"Well being a guest doesn't give you the right to rape the lady of the house," Maria announced.

"Yes it does Maria," Tom said walking into the room. "Mom's in slave status."

"Slave night is Fridays, its now Monday morning," Maria said slapping him gently on the back of his head.

"Actually we extended slave night," Tom said. "Its still going on."

"Do you mean to tell me that you've had your mother tied up all weekend?" Maria demanded. She looked at me in astonishment.

"They've whipped me and fucked me hundreds of times," I pretended to pout.

She bent down and looked at my neck. "And they've been hanging you too I'd say, from the marks on your neck."

I nodded.

"And the girls too?" she demanded of Tom.

"Yeah, and did they ever like it! Kathy came about fifty times."

She folded her arms under her enormous bosom. "Just how many house guests do we have?"

"Four," he said.

"I thought there must be at least a hundred, judging from the mess the kitchen is in," she said.

"Oh, we were going to clean up, but forgot," Tom said sheepishly. "We got distracted with the slaves."

I was so tired I actually fell asleep while they were talking. I jerked awake when Maria began releasing my chains. She peered into my face for a moment, then turned to the boys in annoyance. "Don't you realize that this lady is exhausted? Just get your butts out of here and let her rest."

"Well, we aren't finished with her," Mark said, walking in the door. A couple of the other boys were behind him. "In fact, we are just getting warmed up." Mark is very much like his father, and when his father was the mood to torture a woman, she got tortured and that was that. My husband never took no for an answer. Mark is just like him.

"Then go get your sister and her cousin," Maria told him. "Leave your mother alone."

"We have been fucking the girls," Mark said. "But they aren't enough to go around."

Maria was removing my cuffs and tucking me under the covers. I curled up meekly, like a little girl.

"I'll tell you what, Maria," Mark said grinning. "If you want Mom to have a break, you'll have to take her place."

She was bending over me, adjusting my pillow. The boys couldn't see the tiny smile that appeared on face for a split second. She winked at me then straightened up and glared at them. She picked up the cuffs that been wearing all weekend. They were soaked with perspiration. She tossed them aside and took a fresh set from my closet. The boys watched as she buckled them tightly on herself. She added a wide slave collar and slipped into a pair of my highest heels, then she unbuttoned her dress.

The boys watched wide eyed as Maria stripped. They were stunned when she tossed her dress aside to reveal a skimpy black thong, thigh high hose and a transparent bra.

"Wow Maria, I didn't know, , ," Tom said in awe.

"Young man, I could write a book about what you don't know," Maria told him tartly. She unhooked her bra and her huge breasts spilled out. The boys cheered. Maria couldn't completely suppress a smile. She wiggled her pelvis. "Anybody want to take my panties off?"

A boy named Eric was the first to get there. He knelt almost reverently and grasped the waistband of her thong. She looked down at him. "Go ahead."

Eric slid Maria's thong down and she stepped out of it. They stared at her pussy as if they'd never seen one before.

"Its completely hairless," someone said.

"Uh huh, if I didn't shave it I'd have more hair on my pussy than on my head," Maria told them. They looked at the thick mass of black hair cascading around her shoulders.

"I like hairy pussies," one of the boys said.

"Well, you're going to have to make do with a bald one today," she said. "If you want hair, give me a few weeks warning the next time you come, then you can see a hairy pussy."

"You've got a deal, Ma am," the boy said reverently. I had to bite my lip.

Maria closed the curtains then bent over me again. She started to kiss me on the cheek, but I grabbed the sides of her head and kissed her on the mouth. She opened her lips and I slipped my tongue inside. The boys gasped in awe. I caressed her breasts while we kissed long and slowly.

Maria straightened up. She faced the boys while she expertly locked her wrist cuffs behind her back. Mark's eyes were flicking back and forth from me to her.

"Like I said, sonny boy, there's a lot you don't know about me," she said to Mark. "And a lot more you that don't know about your Momma." She winked at me as they led her out the door.

When I awoke its was mid afternoon. I peeked out the curtains. Everyone was under one of the trees. The boys had dragged some of the old torture equipment out of a barn. Kathy was locked into a pillory bent at the waist. A boy was fucking her from behind while another had his cock in her mouth. Ann was tied spread wide to stakes in the lawn and a boy was fucking her, but everyone's attention was really on Maria.

They had hung Maria upside down from a tree limb, her legs were tied wide apart and she was swinging wildly. The boys were pushing and pulling her body to make her swing. Two of them would each grab a breast and pull her upward, then release. They were whipping her as well and even at fifty yards distance I could see the bright pink on the skin around her pussy, I could also see the delighted expression on her face between her breasts.

Maria's breasts are so huge that when she is hung upside down they cover her face. We've made jokes about her suffocating that way. She was keeping them moving by twisting her body from side to side.

I was tempted to go down and join it, but decided to let Maria enjoy herself with all the boys' attention. I knew that she would figure out a way to get them to tie us together later. My husband used to tie me and Maria to a bed and force us to eat each other's pussies for hours. We cried and begged him not to do it, and I don't think he ever realized that secretly we loved every second of it.

That got me to thinking about Maria's shaved pussy. The first few dozen times I'd eaten it, it was lush and sweet with a thick curly mane of black hair. Many years ago, during a party, my husband had tied Maria to a table and made me shave her pussy as our guests watched, and she has kept it smooth shaven ever since. I like eating bald pussies, but still remember Maria's soft lush black pubic hair. Now that John was dead I thought I'd suggest that she stop shaving.

I smiled at a memory, twenty years earlier. I had been kneeling in the kitchen licking Maria's pussy when my husband came in and I barely managed to hide in the pantry. John yanked Maria over the counter, lifted her skirt and gave her bottom a few dozen swats with his riding crop, then he fucked her. He remarked about how wet her crotch was and decided that all her pussy hair must hold too much moisture. That night I was ordered to shave her. John didn't know that Maria's pussy was damp with my saliva as well as her own juices.

I went to the kitchen and made a cup of tea. Back in my room I dragged a chair to the window and opened the drapes. The boys were hanging Maria and the girls by their necks and playing the endurance game. Each slave had a tennis ball placed in her hand and tried to hold it as long as she could while being hanged; the last one to drop her ball won. The winner got her pussy eaten by one of the boys. I propped my feet on the window sill and watched them play the game all afternoon.

Sure enough, Maria managed to talk the boys into tying all the females together that night. It was probably no harder than Brer Rabbit and: 'Please don't tie the girls together and make them eat each other's pussy, and don't you dare tie me and your mother together either.'

After a dinner of pizza and cum, Maria called her family and told them that we had house guests and I had asked her to stay late to help with the entertaining, so rather than drive home late, she would spend the night. She's done that so many times over the last twenty five years that her husband and daughters thought nothing of it. The house has a servant's apartment and her husband thinks that's where she sleeps when she stays over.

We were taken to the large guest room. That room has two full sized beds. Ann was tied to one bed and I to the other, then the boys tied Kathy atop Ann, and Maria atop me. I had my mouth and nose in Maria's pussy before they finished tying her down.

Mark watched in surprise as I rubbed my face in Maria's pussy.

"Mom, have you done this before?" he asked astonished.

Maria raised her head and looked at him. "Like I said Mark, what you boys don't know about your mother could fill a book."

I winked at him between Maria's legs.

The boys turned out the lights and closed the door. I was so happy licking Maria's pussy that I barely heard the door open an hour later. Tom stuck his head in the room.

"Mom?"

"Hmmmm?" My voice was a little muffled.

"We just had a meeting downstairs and the guys decided to keep you all in slave status until Friday."

"All right dear."

Lib m storage iv

Spring break

Ch 4

I spent a warm wonderful night under Maria. We nibbled and licked each other, dozed, napped, slept, awoke and licked some more. Beside us on the other bed I heard the girls enjoying the same thing.

Sometime during the wee hours we fell asleep and slept soundly. I woke when Maria climbed off of me. She had untied herself and staggered off to the bathroom. I had never acquired her skill at untying myself. I think it was because I never dreamt of doing so once my husband had placed me in bondage. I was too obedient to go against his wishes, and anyway, I liked being tied up too much to want to get free. Maria is much more independent, and even though she loves to submit to men, when she's ready to get loose, she'll find a way to get loose.

Maria never defied my husband, he was the padrone, but there were occasions when he gave her to guests who didn't torture or fuck her to her satisfaction. She could be down right vehement in voicing her criticisms and my husband often warned his guests to keep her gagged. At times it became a real test of will and skill with knots as to who would be able to keep her bound. Sometimes the mood struck her to be defiant, to fight the ropes, the whips and the men. She struggled against her bonds, glared at her tormentors and defied them to whip her into submission. I've seen her take horrific whippings, demand more from her tormentors, then explode into bone breaking orgasms. It took a strong man to keep Maria tied down.

She came out of the bathroom and untied me. the girls were sleeping soundly. We gently untied them and covered them with a blanket. They barely stirred.

We showered together, then went to the kitchen, Maria was pleased to find that it wasn't a mess. The boys had cleaned up before going to bed. We ate breakfast naked on the shade porch and waited to see what the boys had in store for us.

The kids wandered down in ones and twos, and were told to make their own breakfasts. My son Mark was grumpy and when told he was on his own for breakfast he yanked me out of my chair, bent me over the porch rail and blistered my bottom with a belt. Then he marched me to the back yard and tied me to a tree, very, very, tightly. Then he brought Maria and tied her to another tree. He still carried his belt and whipped us on our breasts. I came at the fourth or fifth blow. Marie came too. Mark dropped his belt and stalked away to the house, still grumpy.

"I'm never cooking breakfast for that boy again," Maria said shakily. "If that means he'll do this to me." I giggled.

When the girls came down, they were permitted to eat breakfast in the nude, then were tied to other trees.

The boys kept us tied all morning. It was only after a great deal of pleading that we were permitted a short bathroom break. When we returned the boys tied us in a row to kneeling posts. Then they played football and frisbee, interrupting their games from time to time to make us suck their cocks. They had also decided that each time they came they would spurt in our faces. By noon we were coated with cum.

We slaves were untied and commanded to make lunch. After eating the boys decided on a hog tie contest. They drew lots to see which slave they would tie up, then were timed as to how fast and tightly they could tie us. My sons played the roles of referees. The winner was given all four of us for two hours.

A boy named Danny won the contest. He chose to take us to my bedroom and tie us on my bed side by side. Then he climbed on top and rolled around on our bodies. The other boys applauded as Danny stretched out on a mattress of females. They left him to his fun and went back to frisbee.

Danny had a great time. He rolled across our breasts, pinched our nipples with his toes. Sucked and nibbled with his mouth, and lay across our faces taking turns putting his cock in our mouths. I have to admit that I enjoyed being used as human cushion. It made me feel deliciously low and slave like. Maria

liked it too. I could tell from the soft purring sound that she makes when she's enjoying her self.

Danny kept our legs tied together, so he couldn't get access to fuck us, but he pressed his cock against our pussies and humped each of us. He came once doing that, and Kathy came too. After his first orgasm Danny actually reclined across our bodies and fell asleep.

We waited patiently for a while, then Anne decided to wake him up. She bit him lightly on the leg, and when that didn't rouse him, she bit him harder. He jumped up cursing. After examining the bite mark, Danny took a whip from my closet and whipped Anne very hard. She was between Kathy and me and some of the blows fell on us. We were soon writhing and whimpering under the blows. Maria wanted to play too so she thrust her breasts up and invited him to whip them. Danny whipped us all raining blows across out tightly packed bodies. When Anne came, loudly and violently, Danny went into a frenzy. He dropped the small whip and took out a short wicked bull whip. He jumped onto the bed and stood on our bodies. He slashed us fiercely with the whip. We were all coming, groaning, screaming.

Danny whipped us until he was gasping with exhaustion. I thought he was worn out, but he dropped the whip, untied Anne's ankles and dragged her atop the rest of us. Then he fucked her. I was lucky. Anne's bottom rested across my chest and with each thrusts of Danny's hips my breasts were crushed against my ribs.

Danny and Anne were making so much noise that the other came to see. They crowded into the room and when Danny finally rolled off, they untied our ankles and fucked us all.

I was in heaven as boy after boy fucked me, fucked all of us, in that hot sweaty pile of flesh. I just hoped that the bed wouldn't collapse under the weight.

Lib v stor bu

Spring Break

CH 5

Maria went home that night. She can only stay over a few times a month without rousing suspicion in her family. We spent a quiet evening at home. The boys made us remain naked and wear our slave collars and cuffs, but otherwise we had a normal evening. We gathered in the great room and watched movies, ate popcorn, and all in all behaved almost normally. I think the boys were just about fucked out.

When I announced that I was ready for bed Peter led me up stairs by my leash and tied me to my bed. I hoped he would fuck me, but he covered me with a soft comforter and left me. I slept like a baby.

The next morning the girls and I were released from our beds, commanded to stay naked, but otherwise we were left alone. Maria arrived and began her regular duties around the house.

Mark and most of our guests went off to play golf. Tom lounged on the back porch listening to Beethoven and reading. The house was peaceful for a change.

The only guest who stayed home was a nice young man from Denver named Eric. He slept half the morning, then came down yawning and scratching. He ate a huge breakfast, then slumped in a chair in the living room and dozed off. Maria was puttering around, dusting and tidying up, and when she bumped his chair he jerked awake and angrily slapped her on the butt. Maria's mouth dropped in astonishment and I thought she was going to hit him back. Eric slouched back, closed his eyes and said softly, "Slave status."

Maria's mouth opened and closed helplessly, I had to laugh, she was so astonished. I watched wondering if she was going to defy him. She stared at him for a moment, then curtseyed and said, "Yes Master. Anything you say."

Eric opened his eyes and said, "Lift your dress."

Maria hesitated, then obeyed. She raised the skirt of her white work dress and showed her panties. They were ordinary white cotton underwear, nothing like the tiny thong she had worn before. Eric pulled Maria's panties down, then motioned for her to lay across his lap. Her face colored, being ordered around by a teenager, but she obeyed. She lay across his lap and submitted to a series of resounding spanks. Her large bottom was soon bright pink with Eric's hand prints. She was soon squirming on his lap.

After a few dozen smacks, Eric tapped the insides of Maria's thighs. She opened her legs and couldn't suppress a squeal when he stuck his finger in her ass. Eric finger fucked Maria with one, then two, and finally three fingers up her butt. She groaned and whimpered and came in about ten minutes. Eric kept fucking her, obviously to show her who was boss.

"You can have an orgasm from this?" he asked her, pushing his fingers deeper.

"Yes Master," she gasped.

"Impressive," he said. He removed his hand and rolled her off his lap. Maria flopped to the floor with a thud. Eric unzipped his trousers. "Suck me," he commanded. She struggled to her knees and eagerly complied.

I sat across the room and watched Maria's head bobbing up and down in Eric's lap. He sat with his eyes closed contentedly.

SPRING BREAK

CH 6

I watched as Maria sucked Eric's cock, expecting he would come in her mouth. I was surprised when he pushed her away and motioned to me.

"Your turn now, Mrs. Albers."

My son Tom walked in and leaned against the door jamb as I knelt in front of Eric. I put my lips around his cock and automatically crossed my wrists behind my back. I felt Maria lock my cuffs together. I wriggled my butt to thank her.

I sucked Eric for a few minutes before I felt his body begin to tense up. Knowing he was about to come, I edged sideways slightly and looked at Maria. She crawled forward and joined me at his cock. I sucked and Maria nibbled his balls with her lips. I looked up at Tom and paused to blow him a kiss. Just then Eric spurted cum into my face. I tried to put my mouth back on his cock but Maria shouldered me aside. She engulfed his cock and caught every drop of his cum. She grasped his cock in both hands and pumped furiously. Eric's back arched, his hips thrust forward pushing Maria back. She pulled her mouth off his cock then went into a sort of frenzy. She rubbed his cock against her face until her nose and forehead were sticky with cum. I dove back in and buried my nose in his balls. Eric slumped back in the chair for a moment, took a long deep breath, then thrust upward again and spurted another juicy mass into the air. Maria gasped in delight as it hit her squarely in the face.

Eric sighed contentedly and pushed Maria away. He patted my head, as if I were a dog, permitted me to clean his crotch with my tongue. When I finally drew back Tom shoved his cock toward my mouth. I almost toppled over when he slammed forward against my face.

I sucked my son until he too came. Maria slid between his legs and placed her face below his cock. She caught all the cum that I couldn't contain. She said later that she just didn't want to have to clean the carpets, but I knew better. Maria just loves the taste of come.

Eric lolled in the chair, then spoke without opening his eyes.

"You may return to your duties, slave maid," he said to Maria.

"What about Mom?" Tom asked. "She makes a good maid."

Eric opened his eyes and looked questioningly at me. I smiled and nodded. He waved us both away dismissively.

We went to my room, washed our faces and changed into maid's uniforms.

My husband liked to dress me in French maid costumes and over the years collected dozens, for me and Maria. I have a closet full of them.

I put on a blue silk dress with white lace trim. The dress has an open bodice that exposes my breasts and a very short skirt that flares out over a stiff white petticoat. The skirt is so short that my pussy is visible. I put on white shoes and stockings, added a white bow with long trailing ribbons to my hair, then buckled white leather cuffs to my wrists and ankles and a wide white collar around my neck.

Maria chose a scarlet dress with black trim. It also had an open bodice and because of her huge breasts she has to wear a shelf lift open bra in matching scarlet. Her skirt was skin tight but also so short that it left her pussy exposed. She wore black shoes, black stockings and black cuffs, and an enormous red bow in her hair. The contrast of the red ribbon in her rich black hair was stunning.

Eric's eyes widened in awe when he saw us. Tom grinned proudly.

"Maria as soon as you get your work done you can have the afternoon off," Tom told her. "You too Mom, if you help her."

We curtseyed and set about cleaning house. Eric seemed to be more alert now, and he watched us as we dusted and vacuumed. We tried to be diligent in our duties and just couldn't always be ladylike. There were just too many times when we had to bend over, squat and crawl under tables to get the house clean, and I'm afraid the boys got quite a show.

Anne came down stairs while we were working. She took one look at us and gasped. "Oh my God!" and fled back to her room.

Tom explained to Eric that if a maid didn't do her job properly it was the duty of the master of the house to discipline her, and in the absence of the master, any male house guest could assume the duty, so each time one of missed a bit of dust, or failed to replace a vase or lamp correctly we were bent over Eric's lap and given a dozen spanks. I'm afraid that Maria and I got so flustered that we began making lots of mistakes, and got a number of spankings that morning.

At one o'clock the boys decided that we had done a good job and permitted us to knock off. We went to my room and showered. I drove us to town and went to my favorite spa. We spent a wonderful afternoon soaking in hot mud, steam baths and getting massaged.

The massage therapist didn't comment on our whip marks, I've gone to her for years and she's seen them before.

After the spa we went to a coffee shop and splurged on latte and pastries. I ate so many goodies that I felt guilty. Maria waived away my doubts.

"The way those boys have tortured us, we deserve a little self indulgence," she said. "Besides, if we gain a pound or two, all we have to do is ask the boys to work us hard as pony girls. Remember your movie star friend?"

My movie star friend was my college roommate. I won't mention her real name, I'll call her 'Jane'. She majored in drama and went to Hollywood after college and made it big. She is now a very famous actress. She was my bridesmaid and was shocked at the reception when my husband tied and whipped me in front of the wedding guests. It took a lot of explaining on my part to make her understand how things were in my new family.

After John and I returned from our honeymoon I talked to Jane for hours and hours long distance and she finally accepted that I adored slavery, and a few years later, on a visit, she allowed John to tie her up.

Like so many actors, Jane is an exhibitionist, and she loves being bound and looked at. She wasn't into pain, at least at first, that came later, but she did like simple bondage and sex.

A few years into her career she gained too much weight and was being turned down for roles. She called me in tears. She was frantic to lose weight. She had tried all sorts of diets and personal training, but nothing worked.

I told my husband about Jane's problem. He called her and told her that he guaranteed that he could make her lose weight, if she came to the ranch for at least three months and obeyed his every word. Jane was pathetically eager to try. I warned her that my husband probably had a regimen of strict pony training in mind, and that she had better be prepared for a rigorous time. She was so desperate that she was ready to do anything.

When Jane arrived John stripped her naked on the front driveway, locked a slave collar and cuffs on her and led her around to the stable. Inside he hoisted her off her feet and whipped her until she was screaming in real pain. He deliberately raised serious welts on her skin. She was terrified that he had scarred her permanently. After the whipping John left her hanging all afternoon.

That evening John washed Jane's body with cold water and locked her in a horse stall. He told her that she would be put through long hours of very hard training every day, and if she didn't work hard he would whip her until she had permanent scars. She cried and cried and begged to go home, but John simply shackled her ankle to a long chain and left.

Jane slept on straw with only rough blankets, ate a carefully controlled diet and drank only water. In addition to helping her lose weight, John decided that Jane was too haughty and needed to be brought down a few pegs. Each morning he made her crawl on her hands and knees to the paddock. Poor Jane, she was wealthy and world famous, a glamorous and elegantly beautiful woman, crawling naked behind my husband.

John started her simply trotting around the paddock. He let her build her strength slowly and was careful to allow her plenty of rest. She would trot for half an hour, and rest for ten minutes. John increased her times until by the fourth day she was trotting for two hours at a stretch.

Jane worked hard, and the results were soon obvious, but the poor woman was miserable. She wasn't used to slavery, and didn't get the sexual arousal that would come later.

I felt so sorry for her that I asked John to let me join her in the stable. He joked that I was already a pony girl, why not let me be a stable pony. He stripped me and led me naked to the stable. Poor Jane's eyes lit up when he shackled me in the stall beside hers.

Every day we trotted endlessly in the paddock. Even though I was an experienced pony, the training was hard at first. I discovered that I needed the exercise.

John ran us barefoot on the soft dirt at first, but after a few days John put us in training shoes. We wore hard rubber hooves weighted with real horse shoes. They force our feet into a pretty, but painful arches and until we got used to them our feet ached terribly at night. They are so heavy and clumsy that they forced us into a thudding, plodding gait, but they quickly strengthened our legs. Jane was fascinated by the horse shoe prints we left in the dirt. Until then we had run with our arms simply tied behind, but John began binding our arms tightly up behind our shoulders. Its harder to run that way, but sexier.

After each run we were walked until we cooled, then John washed us down with a hose and bucket. Jane shivered and whimpered at first, but learned that complaining only got her a whipping. Of course my husband's hands on her body might have warmed her a little, they certainly warmed me.

When she grew accustomed to the routine and stopped complaining John occasionally rewarded her by fucking her bent over a barrel or fence rail. Sometimes I was given a little reward too, but since John was concentrating on Jane, she got fucked more often than me.

Jane told her friends and family that she was going away to a private and secret weight loss clinic, and to keep anyone from getting suspicious John permitted her to make phone calls to people. She would chatter away as if everything was perfectly normal, while all the time she was actually naked sitting cross legged on the floor of a slave stable while shackled to the wall.

Up to that time Jane had never been whipped or even spanked sexually. She cried and cried the first few times she was whipped, bur my husband was a natural master and had a talent for driving women absolutely wild with his whip.

One evening she watched me go completely over the edge as John whipped me into an earthquake orgasm. He stretched me off the ground between posts and did the 'triangle strokes'. He went from my right breast to my left breast to my pussy and then back, over and over and over. He whipped me with a light bull whip and I came so hard that I convulsed. John left me hanging for a couple of hours and when I regained my sanity Jane was watching me with a thoughtful look on her face.

The next day she deliberately messed up and got whipped. She didn't cry or flinch away. She kept her eyes on John, with that sultry smoldering look she is so famous for in her movies, and begged for more in the deep throaty voice that is her trade mark.

John saw that she had turned the corner into slavery and spent the rest of the day torturing her. Poor me, I was locked in my stall and had to listen to Jane laughing, gasping and moaning just outside. I listened to her screams too, but they were now the screams that a slave makes just before she comes.

After that Jane threw herself into training with a passion. She rubbed against John when he harnessed her, she made eyes at him and tried to entice him every chance she got. I would have been jealous, if a slave were permitted jealousy, but I knew that even if my husband decided to keep her permanently, I would still be his slave too.

John had me demonstrate pony heels for her. The shoes look like regular high heels, but are stronger, have a wider heel for stability and have ankle straps. They require a lot of practice and concentration because one misstep and a pony girl can end up with a broken ankle. John dressed me in full show harness with plumes, bells, colored leather and heels. Pony heels are best on a hard surface so John marched me around the driveway as Jane watched. Jane's eyes teared as she watched me prance and trot and gallop round and round. John put me through an old and basic show routine, and when at the end I bowed so low that my plume brushed the ground she was sobbing. She threw herself at John's feet and begged to be harnessed that way. She groveled and kissed his feet and promised to do anything if she could only learn to do what I had just done.

John worked her, and of course me, very hard for the next few days. Jane never complained and worked with fierce determination until finally John dressed her in heels, harness and plumes, and allowed her to see herself in a mirror. Jane stared at herself for ten minutes. She told me that she almost had an orgasm. Just looking at herself.

We were run for two hours each morning, then trained as show ponies. John trained us to prance and dance, to trot and run as a team. We worked hard on rhythm and coordination, and learned a number of precision dressage routines. We enjoyed that training, even though we wore heavy ugly brown training harness, and soon performed every routine in perfect unison.

A few times John had guests over and put us on display. To protect Jane's identity he covered our faces with helmets. heavy bit straps, blinders and plumes. Jane was afraid someone might recognize her, but being the exhibitionist she is, she almost wanted them to. She loved being trotted out for John's guests and didn't complain at all when we were given to them to suck and fuck. I wondered what the men would think if they knew that the naked pony girl on her knees sucking their cocks was a world famous actress.

At night we slept in the stable. For the entire three months we never set foot in the house or wore clothes. Our chains didn't permit us to reach other so we couldn't have sex but at night we would spread our legs and play with our pussies. That was fun, but nothing like being tied down and fucked silly. On a few occasions, when we'd been exceptionally good, John tied us together mouth to pussy and let us eat each other. One lovely night he left us that way all night long.

When our show training had reached near perfection John added cart and chariot pulling to our curriculum. Pulling a chariot is quite different from trotting and it took Jane a few days to adjust. She soon learned the subtleties of starting smoothly, keeping a steady rhythm, and slowing the cart from a dead run to a smooth stop. In only a few days she was pulling a heavy cart with ease. As she grew stronger John added sand bags to the load. Jane prided herself at being able to trot for hours pulling the heavy cart. She ran easily, her breasts out, her head up, and a proud sparkle in her eye. She excelled at pulling a sulky. The large wheels and excellent balance makes them easy to pull and every pony girl finds herself wanting to gallop. It is exhilarating to pull one.

John often raced us against each other pulling carts or chariots or sulkies, and at times he hooked us back to back in a tug of war, and whipped us mercilessly until one us of collapsed in exhaustion. The winner was rewarded with a sweet whipping and the pleasure of my husband's cock.

Like many new converts, Jane went head over heels into chariot racing and loved being driven around the ranch. John usually paired us up and we would trot happily along in the sunlight. One wonderful day he loaded a picnic basket in a chariot and drove us away from the house. We trotted for miles along a dusty road to a pretty grove of trees. If I hadn't been a slave I would have worried about being seen, for we were away from the private part of the estate, and there was a chance we might meet up with a ranch hand or a neighbor.

At the grove John unhitched us, spread out blankets, and let us play in the stream. We ate delicious food, and John fucked us both several times. We napped and ate and wandered around and had the most wonderful time. The sun was setting when we trotted up to the stables. John washed us down, then locked us in the same stall. Jane and I slept in each other's arms that night.

Two months into Jane's training John entered us in a race.

He drove us to another pony ranch. We rode naked and bound in the horse trailer. Jane's eyes widened when she looked out and she saw all the other naked ponies, male and female, being led around by their owners. She gasped in awe when she saw a woman riding in a shoulder saddle atop a male pony.

"I didn't know men could be pony slaves," she whispered.

"Lots of male ponies," I told her. "And you'd be amazed if you knew how many corporations that particular one owns."

"Look at the way she's riding on him, and how easily he caries her," she marveled. "I wish I could do that."

"Unfortunately, most female ponies aren't strong enough to carry riders," I said. "But I agree. It would be wonderful to have a man riding on you, wouldn't it?"

She nodded, then gasped as she saw a tall handsome man leading a male pony by a ring through his foreskin. The pony's cock was large and erect, and several people patted him on his butt as he walked past. The owner stopped to chat with a plump middle aged woman. While they talked she grasped the pony's cock and masturbated him. The pony was soon near to coming and his owner slapped her hand away.

"Oh no you don't," he told the woman. "He doesn't get to come today, I promised his wife." They laughed.

"His wife? Aren't the male ponies gay?" Jane asked.

"No, not all of them," I said. "I happen to know that one isn't."

"But his master is a man," she said. "Look, the master is squeezing his cock and another man is patting him on his butt."

"That's not his real master," I said. "He belongs to a woman and it looks like she loaned him to that man. Perhaps they traded slaves for the day."

"But, , ," Jane's eyes were huge.

"A slave is a slave," I told her. "Male or female, we must obey our owners."

"Even if the slave is straight?"

"Sure. His mistress loves to humiliate him and makes him suck other men's cocks all the time."

"Even if he doesn't like it?"

"Yup. All he has to do is say no, but then his mistress would turn him away and he'd no longer be her slave. I guess its important enough that he is willing to do things he doesn't like."

"Wow, that's dedication," Jane marveled.

"Well, now that you've gotten into slavery, is there anything you would refuse to do for our master?"

"No," she said firmly. "I'll do anything he wants."

I smiled at her.

"But its different for women," she went on. "Most men aren't naturally submissive."

A burst of laughter came from the group around the male slave. The master was stroking the slave's cock, watching that he brought him close, but not too close to coming. The poor slave's knees were trembling and he slowly sank to the ground. The people laughed louder.

"That poor man is in for a long day," I commented.

John entered the trailer and put us into harness. He strapped us into beautiful red and yellow tack with gold Greek warrior helmets topped by magnificent red crests. The helmets cheek and nose pieces covered our faces and protected Jane's identity. The finishing touches were lush red tails that rose from our butts and nodded as we walked.

We attracted a lot of attention as John walked us through the crowd, and we were both soon quivering with excitement.

John tied us to a hitching rail and wandered off to mingle.

John entered us in several races, individually and as a pair.

In our family pony girls are run differently from most others. Some pony girls are allowed to grasp the traces in their hands. Not us, we run with our arms tightly bound up between our shoulders. Most drivers whip their girls on the back and legs. In our family the men use long buggy whips that reach over our shoulders to whip us on our breasts and bellies. A whip snapping on a woman's pussy is a strong incentive. I've run against women who even wore leather bras to protect their breasts. Not us, we have to jiggle and bounce and ignore the pain.

We usually win our races.

That afternoon Jane won a long distance trot, I won a sprint, and as a team we won a chariot race. She told me that being led into the winner's circle was more of a thrill than winning her first Golden Globe award.

"Of course, I wasn't naked at the Golden Globes," she said.

One rainy afternoon John showed Jane his special chariot.

He had that horrid thing made for me years before. I was terrified of it then and I am terrified of it now. It is the most cruel machine ever designed for a pony girl. He called it the 'Lightning Bolt'

To begin with, the poles are longer than normal. They extend four feet past the belly band, and have little pulleys on the ends. Thin steel cables run through the pulleys and are attached to unspeakably cruel nipple clamps. The other ends of the wires are wound onto a reel on the dash board. The clamps hurt like fire to begin with, but when the reel is tightened it feels like my breasts are being pulled off. There were times when my husband tightened the wires until I was running bent over at the waist.

Another unique feature is a thin tempered steel rod that hooks to the face of the chariot and runs between my legs. It is clipped to my belt by a small chain. It's thin enough not to interfere with my stride, but I feel it with every step. Dildoes can be attached for my pussy and ass, and they do interfere with my running. I've never run a race wearing dildoes, but John has made me trot around the ranch for hours with them in me.

An automobile battery is mounted in the chariot and connected to the nipple clamps and the pussy rod. John controlled the voltage with a foot pedal. No matter how tired I was, a jolt of electricity was usually enough to get me running at top speed.

The chariot has another electrical device. It is something called an alternator and is on the axle. When the thing is on I get a continuous shock, but if I run fast enough, a rotor on the axle spins fast enough to cancel the electricity. If I slow down the electricity comes back.

I hate that horrible chariot.

John showed Jane another of his inventions. A thing he called his "Spur".

It is a pair of curved metal hooks shaped like the letter 'S' mounted on a swivel. The thing attaches to my harness at the small of my back and a strap is connected to the top of the hooks. When the strap is pulled by the driver, the hooks curve down and the points jab into my butt The spur has changeable points, ranging from fairly dull ones to a set that is three inches long and needle sharp. The thing scared me to death the first time I saw it, and it still scares me.

I only pulled the "Lightning Bolt' one time in competition.

We were at a meet in Bermuda and John entered me in the "unlimited class". Unlimited means that the driver can use any method to encourage his pony girl. He buckled the spur with the longest sharpest points to my back, clipped the wire clamps to my nipples and gave me a slight jolt of electricity. Then he showed me one other feature. He had a new buggy whip with a cluster of tiny fish hooks on the tip. John told me that if I ran one step beneath my potential I'd get the hooks in my pussy.

I was so terrified that I almost peed myself before the race, and I shook so that my breasts jiggled uncontrollably.

I won every race that day. I even beat Ayisha, the famous Turkish pony girl who had never lost a race. She was owned by a member of the English royal family and her owner was so furious that he challenged John to another running and offered an enormous sum of money as a prize. I beat her again, by a full length. Her owner was so angry that he whipped her half to death and sold her on the spot. Then he offered my husband a small fortune to buy me.

John received a lot of offers to sell me that day, some reached six figures. One beautiful and wicked lady from Argentina offered half a million dollars for me.

Even though he refused to sell me, John and the Lady from Buenos Aires reached an agreement where they swapped slaves for the night. She got me and my husband got four of her slaves. It was a good thing that I wasn't entered in any races the next day, because I got no sleep that night and when she and her entourage were through with me I could barely walk, much less run a race.

That lady is very determined and called John several times over the years upping her offer each time. Its quite flattering to have someone offer a million dollars for a simple housewife and mother like me.

Now that Mark is master of the estate I've thought about having him call her and offer to loan me to her for a few weeks, however she's notorious about not returning things. Still . . .

I know that Mark wants to run me in the Lightning Bolt. I hate the thing, but I've decided for his twenty first birthday I'll let him do it.

When Jane finished her three months she'd lost all the weight she wanted and more. She went back to Hollywood with a bounce in her step, a sparkle in her eyes and a jiggle to her boobs. She met and married a man who enslaved her on the first date. He is a famous screenwriter writer. She asked me to be her bridesmaid, and since they had to have a showy Hollywood wedding, she didn't get whipped at the reception. They had their honeymoon at our place though, and she and I spent two delightful weeks back in the stable.

As Maria and I munched away on our pastries I decided that she was right. If I ever begin to get fat the boys can run it off me. I ordered another Danish..

Spring Break

Ch 7

While Maria and I enjoyed our coffee, we were joined by a couple of friends. Elizabeth Townesly and Carol Delk entered the coffee shop. They are both quite well to do and are inseparable. They have been friends since kindergarten and the joke in the county is that no one has ever seen one without the other. Most people have no idea how true that actually is.

Elizabeth and Carol have been a matched team of pony girls since high school, almost thirty years now.

Carol was first tied up by her high school sweetheart when she was seventeen, and she and her boyfriend quickly moved on to pony girl slavery. He'd found an old John Willie magazine and they were intrigued by the drawings of pony girls. She loved it so much that she blabbed to Elizabeth and Elizabeth wanted to play too. They talked Carol's boyfriend into letting her join in, and for a while the lucky young man had two very cute and eager teen aged pony slaves.

Tragically, he died in a yachting accident a few months before he and Carol were to be married. He had tied them together, so they had experienced lesbian sex, and for a while they made do tying each other up. Several years later Elizabeth married her husband Tony, who is a masterful man and he resumed her pony training. Elizabeth told Tony about Carol and he brought her into his stable.

He exhibited them as a matched pair until a handsome gentleman from Boston named Eric saw them at a race meet and offered to buy Carol. For her part, Carol fell in love the moment she set eyes on Eric and begged Tony to sell her to him. He did and they have lived happily ever since. They now live between Texas and Boston and the island of Curacao in the Caribbean.

Tony and Eric became friends and kept the practice of pairing their wives. Carol and Elizabeth have competed in pony events all over the world. At their age they no longer run in races but they still win awards in dressage, beauty, and dance competitions, and their husbands still get offers to sell them.

Now in their late forties they've taken on the name "The Gray Mares". Constant exercise has kept their bodies firm and trim, and thirty years of constant practice has made their performances absolute perfection. They still turn heads whether on the street or in harness.

I waved at them to join us and we made the required kissing noises an inch from each others' cheeks. Carol noticed the rope marks on my neck.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that someone has been hanging you," she said as she sat down. I smiled sweetly at her.

"We still hang cattle thieves in these parts," Elizabeth said. "Have you been rustling cattle, or have you found a new master?"

"No cattle," I said, "But if it will get me hanged maybe I ought to take it up."

"Oh my dear, they would hang you naked on the courthouse lawn, in front of the whole town," Elizabeth said.

"If that were true, half the women in town would be out stealing cows," Maria said.

We all laughed.

"Seriously, who has been torturing you?" Carol asked, she paused and peered at Maria's bosom. Maria pulled her blouse aside a few inches to reveal the whip marks on her breasts.

"Ok, who's been torturing both of you?" Carol asked.

"We have a new padrone," Maria said. "Mark is coming into his age."

Elizabeth and Carol looked at me in astonishment.

"Your son has been whipping you?" Elizabeth asked.

I nodded proudly.

We told the girls about Mark and Tom and their friends. They gasped when they heard that we were being tortured by college boys for an entire week, and Carol wore a glazed look by the time we finished..

"Do you think we might drop by some afternoon, before your guests leave?" she asked. "We have a new set of harness to show off."

"Its gray leather with silver mountings," Elizabeth added. "And our husbands have several sets of wigs made to go with it."

"Why wigs?" I asked. Their hair was still a rich reddish brown, and they kept it tinted exactly the same shade.

"Our husbands think the wigs will emphasize our age," Carol said wryly. "To go with the Gray Mares name. They bought us white, gray and light blue ones."

Maria and I shrieked with laughter. I could just imagine two blue haired grandmothers prancing naked in pony harness.

"They make us look twenty years older," Elizabeth grumbled.

"My husband says the idea of grandmothers in slavery appeals to some of the more perverse people in the scene," Carol said. "As if there aren't enough perverse people involved already."

"I have to admit that it is fun," Elizabeth said. "We get a lot of surprised looks when they put us on display. The gray wigs catch peoples' eyes."

I reached across the table and patted her breast. "Don't worry, your boobs are still firm enough to

offset any gray wig."

"Thank God for small favors," Elizabeth said.

"Big favors, I'd say," Maria commented, eyeing Elizabeth's breasts appreciatively. Elizabeth shook them at her.

"Your daughter is in high school, isn't she?" Carol asked. "Is your son training her to be a pony?" Carol asked.

"Not really," I replied. "They boys have put her and her cousin into harness but don't really know how to train them. The girls need an experienced master."

"Hmmmm, perhaps we could suggest that our husbands train your girls," Carol said. "And loan us to your boys in trade."

"Oooooh, I like that idea," Elizabeth said.

"Our guests are only here until Sunday," I laughed. "That's not enough time to train pony girls."

"It could be a start," Elizabeth said. "The boys could have us until they leave, and our husbands would enjoy having two young slave girls.

"All right," I said. "I'll ask the girls, and see if my son approves."

"Just ask Mark," Maria commented. "He is the master, the girls are slaves, they have no say in the matter."

Carol looked at her in surprise. "Maria, does your husband torture you?" Carol asked her.

"No, he has no idea that I am a slave," Maria answered.

"Even after all these years?"

"Not a clue."

"What about the rest of your family?"

"I think my youngest daughter suspects," Maria shrugged. "But she has never said anything."

"Well, if you ever want to join our stable, just say the word," Carol said, patting Maria's hand. "Our masters would be proud to have to have you,"

"And so would we," Elizabeth added emphatically.

"Thank you ladies," Maria said, looking at me. "But I am very happy where I am."

On the drive home Maria stretched contentedly in the car.

"I am glad that Mark is becoming strong," she said. "Soon we will be whipped the way women ought to be whipped."

I was faintly troubled by the thought of my little boy growing up.

"I don't want him to feel so responsible for us that he doesn't go out and find his own slave girl."

"Mark will be the padrone soon," Maria said. "He will meet his responsibilities, but don't worry, he will place his brand on his own woman someday."

I shrugged.

"And soon he will learn to use "El Toro," Maria said dreamily.

My mouth dropped open. "El Toro" is a twelve foot bullwhip. It tapers from a heavy thick handle to a tiny merciless tip as fine as fishing line. That whip is literally capable of taming a wild bull, and it could kill a woman.

I have only seen one other whip that is more terrible. On a trip to Africa my husband bought a Kurbash, the legendary Arab whip made of rhinoceros hide. The kurbash was made to subdue people, to terrify slave populations, not for the erotic whipping of women. The kurbash can cut through skin and muscle like a hunting knife. It can break bones.

We were on safari and were camped near a small village. A local offered the whip to my husband. John whipped me only once with the kurbash. He strung me up naked and whipped me while the villagers watched. I screamed my throat raw before I fainted from the pain. I could not speak or walk for days, and he never used it on me again. It hangs in the torture barn and I shudder every time I walk past it.

El Toro is perhaps five percent less terrible.

"Mark is not trained with that whip," I told Maria. "His father died before he could teach him how to use it. It could kill you unless used correctly. You could die under that whip."

She spread her legs and lifted her skirt. Her hand slipped into her panties.

"Yes, but what a way to die," she murmured. "To die under the Padrone's magnificent whip, naked in the orgasm while people watch." Her free hand caressed her throat. "Perhaps he would hang me while he whips me to death."

My pussy flashed white hot. Yes, that would be one hell of a way to die! I yanked my skirt up and played with my pussy as I drove. Beside me, Maria slipped her panties off and tossed them out the window. Mine followed. Some truck drivers got a hell of a sight that afternoon.

"Even though your son will be the new master, I will force him to tame me, " Maria said after she had masturbated to a sweet orgasm. "I will antagonize him into a rage and I will defy him until he conquers me with the Toro whip."

"Perhaps I will too," I thought to myself. The whip terrifies me, but it excites me.

When we got home the boys were hanging Anne and Kathy. The girls' bodies were crisscrossed with welts. Kathy was sobbing, whether with pain or passion I couldn't tell. Anne had a dreamy expression on her face. I pulled Mark aside and told him about Maria's comments about El Toro.

"Jeez, Mom. I can't whip anybody with that thing," he said. "I don't know how to use it yet."

I hugged him tightly. "I'll speak to your grandfather and ask if he will train you and Tom on the bull whip."

"Do you think he'll let us practice on Grandma?" he grinned. "She likes the big whips."

"You'll have to ask her," I replied. "But in the meantime, why not practice on us with the lighter whips? You can get out a basket of clothes pins."

"Later, Mom," he said. "For now I think we'll hang you and Maria along with the girls. Take your clothes off."

They spent the evening hanging and fucking us. But the next morning they tied us to posts and practiced snapping clothespins off our nipples with whips. They started with buggy whips, then worked their way up to the light bull whips. They tied Maria and the girls very tightly, but to reward me for suggesting the idea, the boys put me on a teeter board.

What's a teeter board? Normally a slave girl is tied tightly to a post during whip practice. A merciful master will tie her so securely that she can't move. This keeps his target steady and reduces the accidental blows to her breasts.

A teeter board does just the opposite. Its a small seesaw beneath the slave's feet. Its impossible to stand still on one, so there is a lot of jiggling and the slave's breasts catch a lot of the whip. My breasts were raw by the end of the day.

Address List

Chapter 8

The boys put us to bed early that night and went off to a bar in Mexico. Someone remarked that since we were so close to the border they ought to at least see what Mexico was like, so they tied us females to our beds and drove off.

I was awakened from a sound sleep by a male body climbing on top of me and a thick hard cock sliding into my pussy. The room was dark so I couldn't see who it was, but he fucked me well and long and I slipped contentedly back to sleep a few moments after he finished. I woke later when I heard my daughter scream. I listened to the moans and slaps and squeaking bed springs and decided that one of the boys was probably whipping her breasts while fucking her. Between her screams I heard her giggle a few times. I went back to sleep.

The next morning the boys put us in chains and shackles and ordered us not to put on clothes, then left us alone for a few hours while they worked on something in the carpentry shop. We lounged around trying to guess what the boys had in store for us as we listened to the sounds of sawing, drilling and hammering.

After lunch they marched us to the tennis court. Along one end stood four upright boxes that looked like coffins. They walked me to the first box and put me inside. There was a cut out that fit my breasts perfectly. I was pushed forward until my boobs jutted through the cutout, then the door was closed behind me. The box was so tight that I couldn't move. I couldn't even wiggle, and I certainly couldn't pull my breasts back inside. Luckily there was no top on the box, so I could breathe ok. I heard the other slaves being placed in their coffins.

I knew that somehow the boxes meant that we were in for more breast torture, but couldn't guess what form the torture would take, until I heard the sound of a racquet hitting a tennis ball. A split second later something hit my breast hard.

The boys cheered and congratulated Mark on getting a direct hit on his first shot.

That was to be our torture. The boys competed all day hitting our breasts with tennis serves.

Let me tell you, a tennis ball stings like hell on a woman's naked breast. I had an orgasm on about the tenth hit and I could tell when they scored hits on the other slaves. Kathy squealed and Anne yelped and Maria gave a deep satisfied grunt when she was hit. Even through the boxes I could tell they were enjoying themselves. I wriggled my boobs as much as I could as I waited to get hit.

Between rounds the boys picked up the balls, during those interludes the boys would fondle, squeeze and pinch our breasts. I loved that and jiggled my boobs to let them know I appreciated the attention.

Kathy began taunting the boys when they missed. Like a heckler at a baseball game she told them what lousy hitters they were, called their misses ‘air balls', begged them to move closer because she was getting bored waiting for the next hit. She got all of us slaves laughing and we joined in the heckling. The boys began missing more shots, either from frustration at our jibes, or because some were laughing so hard. Anyway, they opened our coffins long enough to gag each one of us, then they went back to the game.

During one of the breaks I heard a deep smack, almost a thud, and heard Maria squeal through her gag. The smack was repeated over and over again.

One of the boys had, simply out of nowhere, hauled off and hit her breast with his tennis racquet. Maria told me that she orgasmed instantly and while her body was shuddering in ecstasy he, or the others, decided to pound her breasts until she fainted. The box was so tight that she was held upright, and the boys didn't realize, or didn't care that she was unconscious. They kept on walloping her breasts.

They also hit my breasts as well as the girls'. The boys got very creative in their torments, and one of them discovered that brushing the web of a tennis racquet over a woman's nipples produces a pain that is unique (and as far as I am concerned, wonderful!).

The boys had put a lot of planning into the game. After a few hours of bombarding our breasts, they opened small triangle shaped doors in front of our pussies. Our pussies became the new targets in the game.

It was hot in the boxes and we were given a few breaks to drink fluids and lie in the shade. We didn't get much rest though, the boys fucked us on the grass each time we were taken out of the boxes.

Hours into our delicious torment I heard my son announce that it was time to switch from tennis to golf.

My belly went cold with fear. Were they really going to hit golf balls at us? I tried to yell through my gag but only managed to mumble. The boys ignored me and made jokes about golf handicaps and so on.

I heard them setting up some tees from the driving range, and listened to them dragging clubs out of golf bags. From the sound I knew they were very close. I was in a panic. I knew they couldn't miss at that distance, and feared the golf balls would be traveling like bullets when they struck. Whimpers and groans from the other boxes told me that the other slaves were frightened too.

Mark said they were ready and for the other boys to step back. I heard the swish of his gold club as he made several practice swings. One of the boys began a patter like an announcer at a golf tournament.

“Albers steps up to the ball,” he said in a hushed tone. “He looks long and carefully down the fairway. This is a par three with a reddish pink nipple to aim for instead of the pin on the green of the first hole.”

“Shouldn't he be aiming at the first hole?” one of the other asked.

‘Yeah,” another said. “I'd be aiming at Mrs. Albers' hole.”

“Can't,” the fake announcer replied. “The first hole is protected by Mrs. Albers legs which are tightly closed.”

“Shhh,” someone said. “He's ready to tee off.”

“Albers addresses the ball,” the announcer said. “Takes a deep breath and , , , here's his back swing!”

I was so frightened that I was trembling. My breasts shook so much that I felt the edge of the opening rubbing my skin raw.

I felt a blow on my right nipple before I heard the sound of Mark's club hitting the ball. I screamed in my gag and peed down my legs. The boys cheered.

I felt a sharp sting from the impact, but it was not the brutal hit that I expected. I heard the ball bouncing on the tennis court. It was not the sharp click of a golf ball on pavement, but rather a softer lighter sound. They were using whiffle balls!

I screamed in outrage in my gag and the boys roared with laughter.

After a moment I calmed down and giggled to myself. The whiffle balls stung but wouldn't cause injuries, and I soon discovered that I could have orgasms from whiffle balls just as delightfully as whips, paddles, and riding crops. I settled back to enjoy myself.

The boys finished their game by taking us out of the boxes and tying us the fence. They tied our hands above our heads, then raised our feet and tied them beside out heads. This exposed our thighs and pussies to bombardment by tennis balls, whiffle golf balls, and cocks. It was wonderful.

 

On Friday morning, at my invitation, Carol and Elizabeth came to the house. They were brought by one of their grooms because both their masters were away on business. They arrived in a closed van and waited on the drive until we had all gathered on the back lawn. The jingle of their harness bells heralded their arrival as they trotted into view.

The boys' eyes were wide as the two elegant ladies pranced around the corner of the house. They wore silver and black harness, tall black plumes and gray wigs. Their movements were in perfect precision, each knee bent at the same angle, their legs rising exactly to the same height, their breasts even jiggled in unison. The groom jogged beside them carrying a long whip.

They trotted across the lawn then stopped at the crack of the groom's whip. Carol and Elizabeth stopped, held their position for a few seconds, then at a silent count bowed so deeply that their plumes brushed the grass. Everyone applauded.

They slowly straightened from the bow, their heads continued upward past full height until their backs were fully arched and their plumes brushed the ground behind them. Their feet stayed together, their knees never parted. It was a maneuver that a only a contortionist could do easily, and one that a gymnast would find difficult. It was not lost on the boys that these pony girls were in their forties.

They straightened slowly and acknowledged the boys' applause with smiles. The groom snapped his whip and the Gray Mares put on a show. The boys were rapt as they watched Carol and Elizabeth. Their eyes followed every movement, every jiggle and bounce. And soon every boy had a very visible erection, and several were squirming in their chairs by the time the performance was finished.

At the end of their show Elizabeth and Carol came to rigid attention and stood like statues. The boys crowded around them. At first the boys were shy, then one boldly touched Carol's breast. Her expression didn't change but she thrust her chest outward in an obvious invitation. In an instant both women were being pawed by six sets of hands. The pony girls tried to maintain their rigid discipline but in a few minutes they were both giggling. Emboldened, the boys began unbuckling the ladies' harness.

Their groom cleared his throat loudly. The boys stopped in confusion.

“Who is the master here?” the groom asked.

“I am,” Mark answered. The groom just looked at Mark with a faint lift to his eyebrows until Mark remembered his manners.

“Sorry sir,” Mark said. He motioned the groom over to where we females were.

For the occasion the boys had dressed me in green and gold pony harness and Maria in one of her skimpiest maid uniforms. The girls wore a matching set of “Farmer's Daughters” costumes. Ann wore a low cut bodice and micro skirt in sky blue gingham edged in narrow lace, skin tight panties, white bobby socks and white heels. Her collar, wrist and ankle cuffs were dyed the same shade of sky blue as her dress. Kathy wore a matching outfit in yellow. They even had a sprinkling of fake freckles on their cheeks.

The girls had originally made those costumes for a Halloween party but my husband caught them sneaking out, spanked them silly and ordered them never to wear the costumes again. The girls cried and pleaded and he finally relented and permitted them to wear the costumes only to slave functions. He made them promise never to wear them in public.

I had a matching outfit made in pink and we have made quite a hit at mother-daughter spanking parties. We even won a blue ribbon at the South Texas Lesbian Fair.

The groom looked us over, then selected Kathy. Mark handed him her leash and showed him to the barn. The groom tugged Kathy forward and they disappeared inside. Within moments we heard Kathy screaming.

Mark emerged from the barn to find Carol and Elizabeth buried under a pile of boys. Both women's legs were spread wide and a boy was fucking each while the remaining cocks were thrust into their faces. Both ladies were enjoying themselves immensely. Mark saw that there was no room in the pile so he came to me and Maria. He motioned for us to kneel.

I obeyed but Maria looked Mark in the eye and slowly, deliberately shook her head. Mark's jaw dropped in astonishment, then a look of anger crossed his face.

“Kneel!” he hissed at her.

“Make me,” she said softly, mockingly. Mark's hand shot forward like lightning, grasped the back of her neck and hurled her to the ground. Maria made a loud whoof as she landed on her breasts. Mark knelt on her hips and yanked her hands behind her back and locked her wrists. Then he methodically tore her clothes off piece by piece. When she was naked he grasped her hips and yanked her legs apart. He unzipped his jeans and thrust his cock into Maria's rectum. She groaned in pleasure. Mark fucked Maria until he came, then crawled off her. She lay face down in the grass, her breasts crushed against the ground. She glanced at me and winked, then she rolled over, spread her legs wide and looked up at Mark.

“I am ready to be fucked now,” she said to him. The look of rage reappeared on Mark's face and I expected him to hit her, but he controlled his anger and said something that brought tears of pride to my eyes.

“Never strike a slave in anger,” he said, quoting his father.

“Then strike me in love,” Maria said mockingly.

Mark walked into the barn and returned with ropes and a handful of whips. One was El Toro. Maria gasped in delight when she saw that whip.

Marked hoisted Maria to a tree limb. He lifted her off her feet then tied her ankles so far apart that she winced in pain. Mark took off his shirt and began whipping her. All the whips he used that day were bull whips and they ranged in size from fairly small to the monster “Toro”. He whipped Maria all day long, slowly, methodically, powerfully. God only knows how many orgasms she had. She lost count early on.

When the boys cooled off after their first wild rush with Carol and Elizabeth, they settled in to chairs and watched Mark and Maria. Somehow they sensed that something special was happening.

The Gray Mares lay panting on the lawn strewn with clothing, harness and plumes. They purred contentedly, covered with sweat, blades of grass, and cum. Eventually they opened their eyes and looked around. They rose gracefully to sitting positions and watched Maria writhe under the whip. They looked questioningly at me. I rolled my eyes and shook my head to tell them that it was a very serious matter. They walked to where Ann and I were sitting.

“What's going on?” Carol asked softly.

“Maria has decided to force Mark to tame her,” I told them. “She tried to antagonize him.”

“It looks like she succeeded,” Elizabeth observed looking at the pile of whips. “I'd say he means business.”

“Almost,” I said. I told them about how Mark had regained his composure and controlled his anger. I told them what he had said.

“Wow,” Carol whispered. “You must be very proud.”

“Um hmm,” Elizabeth agreed. “He's going to be as great a master as his father.”

I thought my chest would burst with pride.

“Is Mark going to use that giant whip on her?” Ann asked. Carol and Elizabeth gasped when they saw El Toro.

“I hope not,” I answered. “He's promised me that he won't whip a woman with it until he's been properly trained.”

“Thank God!” said Elizabeth in awe. “That thing would kill Maria.”

“Yes, but just think what it would be like.” Carol said, staring at the whip. She moistened her lips. Elizabeth nodded.

Everyone settled in to watch my son tame our housekeeper. I gave Ann a look and she trotted into the house. She emerged a few minutes later with a tray of cold drinks. “Since the maid is busy, I'll be your server today,” she giggled to the boys. They rewarded her with pats and slaps on her bottom.

An hour or so later the groom emerged from the barn. His shirt was off and he was covered with sweat. He was leading Kathy, now naked and covered with fresh welts, by her leash. He dropped into a chair and watched with interest as Mark whipped Maria. Ann brought him a drink and a towel. She also toweled Kathy's face and held a glass of lemonade to her lips. Then Kathy crawled to the groom's feet and rested her head on his thigh. He patted her head and she smiled contentedly.

We spent the entire day watching Maria's torture. Mark whipped her steadily, pacing himself, pausing to rest and giving Maria plenty of fluids to drink. Neither spoke. The boys occasionally amused themselves by making one of us slaves suck a cock or be bent over a table for a spanking or fucking. I watched my daughter crawl between the groom's legs and kiss the crotch of his trousers. He patted her head absently, his eyes on Maria. Kathy nuzzled the groom's crotch insistently until he unzipped his trousers and took out his cock. She took it eagerly in her mouth and sucked with obvious delight. She smiled up at him with soft eyes.

Ann noticed too. “I've never seen Kathy act that way before,” she whispered. “She acts like she's in love.”

I nodded. “Perhaps she's met her master.”

“Wow.”

Hours went by. Maria endured her whipping silently. As Mark moved to the larger whips an occasional gasp would escape her lips, but she never screamed or whimpered, and her eyes never left my son. When mark finally tossed the last whip aside everyone seemed to let out a collective sigh. Maria visibly relaxed in her ropes.

The groom rose and walked to El Toro.

“Are you not using this whip, sir?” he asked Mark in a rich Scottish accent.

Mark shook his head. “No, I haven't been taught to use it yet.”

“Very wise,” the groom said. “May I?”

“Sure.”

The groom picked up the whip and examined it carefully. “Aye, this is very dangerous.” He walked a few yards and swung the whip over his head. The whip made a hissing roar through the air. He grasped it in both hands and swung it faster. The roar increased until every woman was shuddering. Still whirling the whip, the groom walked toward the wreckage of the Gray Mares' harness. A plume lay on the grass. The tip of the whip caught the plume and sent it flying ten feet into the air. As it floated down the whip cut it in two, then cut the halves again. On each pass the whip cut another piece of feather.

My heart was pounding, my mouth was dry put my pussy was very damp. Every woman was staring at the whip. My daughter's eyes we half closed in a trancelike state. Elizabeth and Carol knelt side by side and watched, then in unison they lowered their upper bodies until their breasts touched the ground in homage to the power of El Toro. Ann stared at the whip open mouthed, she trembled so much that her breasts bounced.

The groom changed the whip's direction, Without slowing he moved it from a spinning circle to a back and forth oval. The whip is so heavy that he leaned into it at each turn. It was like watching a bell ringer at an ancient gothic cathedral. It took several deep pulls on the bell ropes just to get them moving, but when they built up momentum, it was impossible to stop them until they had rung out their massive peals. El Toro moved with a momentum of its own.

Then he cracked the whip.

He leaned against the pull of the whip, and jerked it back toward him like reining in a horse. The whip crack was like thunder splitting the air. I felt that hellish sound in my soul, in my heart, and in my pussy. I screamed.

Every slave screamed. Our shrieks mingled and rose to an earsplitting pitch. The groom ignored us. The boys, watching open mouthed, ignored us. The groom cracked El Toro again and again.

Tears were pouring down Maria's cheeks. Her breasts heaved. Her body, bright red from her day long whipping, strained toward the whip.

The groom slowed the whip and let it coast to a stop. He was panting with exertion. Mark walked to him. They spoke quietly for a moment, then the groom handed the whip to Mark and walked away. Mark hefted the whip experimentally, then swung it over his head. Look of surprise came over his face when its weight almost pulled him off balance. He swung it again, getting the feel of it until he had it circling his head. Again we women trembled at its thunder.

Maria spoke to my son. “Please, Mark.”

He glanced at her.

“Please, Senor Mark.”

His eyebrows rose in confusion.

“Please, Padrone,” Maria sobbed. Then he understood. He looked at the whip, then at Maria, then at me. I nodded.

“All right Maria,” he said. “But only one.”

“Many Padrone, please,” she sobbed.

“No, only one for now,” he said firmly. “But you may have more some other day.”

“Yes, Padrone.”

Mark stepped back and began winding the whip up into a spin over his head. When it was up to speed, he ran toward Maria. The whip struck the left side of her body. It struck five feet from the tip. It wrapped around her torso one complete turn and the tip lanced across her breasts like a white hot sword. A razor thin crimson welt appeared instantly across her breasts. It was as if a knife had sliced them. Maria's head arched back, her eyes rolled upward and her body convulsed. She jerked and twitched like a fish on a line. She gasped several deep sobbing breaths, but never screamed.

Mark let the whip uncoil and drop to the grass. Every eye was fixed on Maria's body. I came to my senses as if I'd been hypnotized. I noticed that every woman's mouth was wide open, including my own. Then I realized that we were screaming.

Mark motioned to the ropes holding Maria. Tom cut them and she crumpled to the ground. He loosened the ropes on her wrists and ankles and tried to help her stand, but she shook her head. Her hands and feet were numb from hours of hanging, but somehow she managed to crawl to Mark. She staggered as she crawled and fell on her face several times, but she was determined. When she reached my son, she kissed his feet reverently.

“Thank you Padrone,” she said as tears ran down her face. “I am your slave until the day I die.”

Mark touched her head, then told his brother to take her to the house. Maria still couldn't walk so Tom lifted her into his arms. Maria probably weighed as much as Tom, but her carried her easily and gently.

Mark looked around at the stunned spectators. He clapped his hands and everyone started, as if coming out of a trance.

“Jeez! You all act like you never saw a woman whipped before.” He coiled El Toro. “Any body else want a whipping before I put it away?” he joked. “How about you, Mom?”

“Yes,” I said evenly.

Every mouth dropped open.

“But not today,” I continued.

Mark looked at me questioningly.

“You may whip me with El Toro on your twenty-first birthday,” I told my son. “Twenty-one strokes.”

Spring Break On A Texas Estate

Ch 9

Friday evening was quiet. Everyone seemed to be tired. The boys unchained the slaves and permitted us to get dressed. They even cooked dinner.

Maria was pretty banged up after her whipping and Mark went to her room to check on her. She was awake and her face lit up when he walked in. She struggled to get out of bed to kneel at his feet. She was so stiff and weak that she practically fell out of bed. Mark caught her and put her back. She tearfully begged him to let her suck his cock. He tucked her in and told her that she would be sucking his cock for many years to come, but for now she was to rest. She pouted a little but obeyed him.

When I checked on her she told me that she was so deeply happy that she had a new strong master. I joked that she acted like she was in love with my son. She nodded solemnly.

“It is wonderful for a woman to be the slave of the man she loves,” Maria told me. “It makes the pain so sweet.”

“What about your husband?” I asked.

“Oh, I love him,” Maria said. “But is the old comfortable reclining chair kind of love. My love for Master Mark is the fire and earthquake love. My pussy burns when I think of him and his whip.”

“I know,” I said. “My pussy burns for the whip too. I told him that on his twenty first birthday he may whip me with El Toro.”

Maria's eyes grew wide.

“I will permit hit to whip me one stroke of the whip for each year of his life,” I told her.

Maria's eyes slowly glazed over. Her tongue appeared between her lips. She kicked off the sheets and slowly pulled her night gown to her waist.

“Twenty one strokes!” she whispered in awe. “Twenty one deaths and rebirths. My God!”

Her hand was caressing her pussy, the other tracing the angry red welt across her breasts. I sat in a chair and lifted my skirt. My hand slipped into my pussy.

“Senora Albers, may I also be whipped on Mark's birthday?” Maria breathed. “Twenty one times?”

I rubbed my pussy furiously as I envisioned myself hanging beside Maria as the terrible whip set fire to our bodies. I yanked my panties off and threw them across the room. I sprawled in the chair, pinching my clitoris and squeezing my nipple. Maria sobbed, then groaned loudly as she same. I came too and slid out of the chair. I crawled to the bed and reached for Maria's hand. We clasped hands as the delicious pink waves rippled from our pussies through our souls.

“Man, your mom just doesn't get enough!” I heard a voice say admiringly.

I opened my eyes and saw Tom and one of the guests watching us in the door way.

Tom looked at me, then Maria, then walked away.

“My mom is a masochistic nymphomaniac slave slut,” I heard him say proudly.

“Lucky bastard,” the guest told him.

“Yeah, I know,” my son said. Their footsteps faded down the hall.

Maria and I giggled.

We checked on Maria all evening and although she insisted that she felt fine, but it was obvious that she was in a lot of pain. Mark sat up in her room all night. I crept in at midnight. Maria was sleeping fitfully.

“Mom, I may have really injured her,” Mark said remorsefully. “She looks terrible.”

“Maria will be fine in a day or two,” I told him. “And believe me, even though her body is in pain, she is very happy in spirit.”

“I should never have hit her with El Toro,” he said.

“It wasn't just El Toro that laid her up,” I said. “Hanging and whipping her for several hours did. EL Toro was just icing on the cake. And make no mistake, Maria is ecstatic now that you've tamed her. She has wanted to feel El Toro at your hands for a long time.”

“She has?”

“Oh yes.”

“But I went too far,” he said. “I should have been more careful. I don't deserve to be a master.”

“You will be a wonderful master,” I told him. “And don't worry about injuring Maria. She revels in her pain. I still revel in the memories of whippings I received from your father.”

“Did dad ever hurt you, really hurt you?” he said.

“Many times,” I replied. “There were many nights when he sat up watching over me after whipping me nearly to death. He always felt remorse and I always had to convince him afterwards that I was ok and loved being whipped.”

“Was there a time as bad as this?” Mark asked, pointing to Maria.

“Much worse.”

His face showed disbelief.

“In Africa your father whipped with a Kurbash,” I told Mark. “A Kurbash is the worst whip on earth. Worse by far that El Toro.”

His eyes widened. “You mean that thing in the barn?”

“Yes, and I know I promised to let you whip me with El Toro on your birthday, but you may never, ever whip me with the Kurbash. And you must never use it on anyone else.”

“Ok Mom, but tell me what happened.”

“We were on safari and had camped near a village. We had about twenty people in our party including some English and Canadian friends, who by the way, were not into slavery, they were just ordinary people.

“The village consisted of blacks, Arabs and some Portuguese who ran a pumping station at a nearby dam.

“The village market sold everything from fresh eggs to ivory. I was wandering around when I saw the Kurbash on display in a stall. My pussy tingled the second I laid eyes on it. The merchant was an evil looking Arab who stared at my body like he was going to rape me on the spot. I was wearing shorts and a sleeveless blouse and he stared at me like I was naked.

“Now I've been taken many times in rape fantasies by lots of men, but that Arab was so disgusting that I just knew being raped by him would not be enjoyable. I was frightened and rushed back to camp. Later I told your father about the whip and took him to the market to see it.

“The Arab didn't speak English but it was very clear that he thought that the whip should be used on me, a white woman who displayed herself so shamelessly. A crowd gathered and watched while your father and the Arab bargained for the whip. Your father didn't like the Arab either and decided not to pay a penny more than he had to.

“They finally reached an agreement and your father bought the whip. The Arab handed it to him and pointed to me. Your father indicated that the whip was indeed intended for me. The Arab nodded and threw a little extra into the bargain. He picked up a braided leather rope and motioned me to approach. I hesitated but he yanked me to him and tied my hands together in front of me, then handed the rope to your dad with the obvious indication that I ought not be allowed to walk around unsupervised.

“I was already quivering with excitement, but you father went his usual extra step. He shook his head at the Arab and untied my wrists. I was disappointed until he pulled my arms behind my back and tied them there. Then he grabbed the front of my blouse and ripped it open. The crowd cheered when my breasts bounced into view. Your father ripped the blouse to shreds leaving me naked from the waist up.”

“Wow, way to go Dad,” Mark chuckled.

“It gets better,” I said. “Your father tied another rope around my neck, then tossed the end over a awning pole and hoisted me up till I was on tip toe. He turned me in a circle so that everyone could get a good look. I was choking but managed to whisper to him: “My shorts, take off my shorts.”

“Your father handed the end of my leash to the Arab, who promptly tightened it until I thought I'd pass out, then your father yanked my shorts off, then my panties. The cheers were louder. Your dad even took my shoes off and tossed them and my clothes to the crowd. There was a mad scramble and a young boy emerged proudly waving my panties.

“I wanted to be whipped me right then and there. I was incredibly excited, and I also wanted that horrid Arab to see how a Texas lady could take a whipping. Your dad tweaked my nipple and told me that I'd get my whipping back at the camp, then he led me naked through the dusty streets back to the camp.

“I was so excited that I could barely contain myself. I'd walked bound and naked through crowds before, but always at a bondage meet on private property somewhere, but this was different, I was in public. In full view of men, women and children. I trotted behind your father on the dirt streets of an African village while everyone looked, and I loved it!

“Some of the crowd followed us to the camp and you should have seen the expressions on our friends' faces when we arrived. Your father tied my leash to a free limb and gathered our party together to explain what was going on. One English couple was outraged and the woman demanded that I be released or she would report your father to the authorities. Your father told her to ask me if I wanted to be released. He looped the Kurbash over a limb then walked away.

“The others reacted differently, ranging from bafflement to outright interest.

“Everyone crowded around me, and I started to explain about being a slave. The angry English lady untied me and undid the leash around my neck. I promptly retied it, then tied my wrists together, although I had to tie them in front. I tossed the rope over the tree limb and asked if anyone would secure it for me. One of the men looked at your father, who was sitting in the shade drinking a beer. He nodded and the man tugged the rope until my arms were over my head. I asked him to pull me a little higher and he did until I was on my toes again. He tied the rope off and I thanked him sweetly.

“The English woman was so furious that she stalked away, followed by her husband. The rest of our friends stood and listened to my story. None was outraged and several were intrigued. I noticed that one couple from Canada kept exchanging glances, and wondered if they were already in the scene.

“One lady asked what had brought this on all of a sudden. I told them that I'd seen the Kurbash for sale and asked my husband to buy it for me. I apologized and told then that we hadn't intended for this to turn into a bondage event, but explained what happened in the market place and how excited I'd gotten. They examined the whip and several women got strange, hungry looks on their faces.

“Eventually everyone accepted what was going on, although one or too still seemed doubtful. No one demanded that I be released. The Canadian couple disappeared into their tent and weren't seen for hours. The angry couple from England packed their Land Rover and drove away that afternoon. We never saw or heard from them again.

“I waited under the tree all afternoon. Your dad walked off into the woods to practice with the Kurbash. The locals squatted and stared at me while they talked among themselves. I giggled to myself as the members of our party watched me but tried not to be seen staring. Towards sundown more people arrived until the whole village was present.

“Your father hired some men to erect two poles in the center of the camp. The poles were twelve feet tall and twenty feet apart so they wouldn't interfere with the swing of the whip.

“At sunset they lit a circle of bonfires around me. Your father led me to the poles and tied ropes to my wrists and ankles. He hoisted me between the poles until my head was ten feet in the air and my legs were spread as far apart as they'd ever been in my life.

“The camp grew very quiet as he swung the whip around his head. It made a terrifying sound. A buzzing, hissing roar, just like El Toro. I watched that whip with more fear and excitement than I'd ever felt in my life. I was close to coming just from the sound of it.”

“I thought Maria was going to come before the whip touched her today,” Mark said.

“So did I,” I told him.

He chuckled.

“Your father slowed the whip, then struck the first blow.” I continued. “It curled around my ribs and cracked under my breast. It was like being touched with a white hot iron. I came immediately and screamed to rattle the stars!”

“Wow.”

“I screamed from the pain, and from the pleasure, from the orgasm and from the release of all the sexual tension that had built up inside me.

“I screamed at every stroke and I never closed my eyes during my whipping. I either looked into your father's eyes, or at that Arab. And after every blow I thanked your father and asked for another.

“Your father whipped me slowly and for the Kurbash, very lightly. Had he struck me with real force I think I would have been killed, even so, the pain was horrific. Thank God I'm a masochist, otherwise I doubt if I would have survived.

“Did you think to ask dad to stop?”

‘Heavens no! After all, I had asked for the whipping. And don't get me wrong,” I said. “I loved it, especially since there were so many people watching. Every eye was fixed on me.”

“I bet you hated that,” Mark laughed.

“Oh, of course,” I said primly. “You know that your mother is no exhibitionist.”

“Sure, mom.”

“The villagers watched impassively,” I said. “But the Arabs were visibly excited and the Portuguese were nearly foaming at the mouth. Most of our traveling companions were very agitated. The men squirmed as they watched, so did most of the wives. One woman in particular kept her face buried in her hands and her body jerked each time I screamed. Once she looked up at me and I saw the pure lust in her eyes. I knew she wanted to be up there instead of me.

“Your father gave me thirty strokes in all. Some were simple cuts with the whip, others were wrap arounds. At number twenty six I looked into his eyes, then lowered my face against my right shoulder and winked at him. He knew what I wanted.

“He sent the Kurbash over my left shoulder. It curled down my back, wrapped between my legs and the tip snapped against my belly. I lifted my face to the sky and screamed so loudly that it seemed to echo off the stars. I pulled myself up in the my ropes and shrieked and shrieked. Then I took a deep breath, I smiled at your father and rolled my face to the left. The whip came over my right shoulder and snapped up against my tummy.

“It was about that time when I noticed I was losing my voice from screaming. When I stopped jerking in my ropes I thanked your father and deliberately jiggled my breasts. He understood and lengthened the next stroke so that the whip curled between my legs and snapped against my nipple.

“To this day I remember that orgasm! The sky seemed to spin over me and the ground rolled like the ocean. I screamed and came and came and came! I fainted for a few seconds. When I woke up I smiled with as much perkiness as I could manage, smiled at that Arab, then tucked my face on my left shoulder. Your father's aim was precise. The whip got my other nipple perfectly.

“When I regained my senses from that blow I looked around the camp then at your father.

“Last one,” he told me.

“I made a humping motion with my pelvis, which is hard to do when you are tied so tightly, but he and everyone else understood. He stretched the whip along the ground behind him. With a flick of his wrist he sent a long ripple down the whip, then another stronger one, and another, until the Kurbash looked like a huge snake writhing on the earth. Then, like a striking cobra he sent it into my pussy. The whip cracked a millionth of an inch from my pussy. I'm not even sure it touched me, but it didn't matter. It felt like the sun had exploded inside my pussy. I screamed and fainted.

“I woke up the next afternoon in our tent. My body hurt like fire, and tingled every time I remembered the Kurbash, but the most serious effect was I couldn't talk.”

“You couldn't?” Marked asked astonished.

I nodded. “My throat was so raw that I couldn't say a word for several days. It hurt to eat and drink. It was like the worst case of strep throat in history.

“We remained in the village for a few days and your father hovered over me every waking moment. When I was better we continued our trip.”

“Wow!” Mark whispered.

“Now you see that what you did to Maria wasn't so terrible,” I told him. “She will survive.”

He seemed to take comfort from this.

“By the way,” he asked. “ Did that couple get into bondage? The ones that seemed so interested?”

“The Canadians? Yes, but not the way you think,” I told him.

His eyebrows rose.

“During the night everyone was wakened by the sound of someone being whipped. They found the Canadian man tied between the poles being flogged by his wife with a piece of rope. They were both stark naked.”

“No kidding?”

“Yep, and the next day she bought a whip in the market place,” I told him. “Just a regular whip, not a Kurbash.”

“Totally cool!”

Maria survived but she was still in a lot of pain the next morning so I called our family doctor and asked him to come out and check on her.

Doctor Davis has been our family physician for decades and he is wonderful about making house calls to our place. He knows that we never ask him to come out unless its absolutely necessary and he understands when discretion is needed.

‘Doctor Davie' as we call him, was into the scene and used to bring his wife to some of our parties. His wife enjoyed bondage but wasn't too keen on torture so she often declined invitations to the more intense sessions. Doctor Davie often had to come alone but we always saw to it that we had a spare slave girl for him.

He was devastated when his wife died a few years ago, and he stopped coming to the parties. Even after the mourning period passed he stayed away despite all our invitations. My husband had me delivered bound and gagged to the doctor's house one evening in an effort to entice him from his grief.

He is a gentleman and rather than hurt my feelings by turning me away, he gave me a number of spankings and floggings and had me suck his cock, but I could tell that the poor man's heart just wasn't into it.

Another of my friends, Betty Rainer, made an appointment to see him and arrived at his office naked under her coat save for a bondage harness. In the examination room she took off her coat, explained the situation to his nurse, and actually talked the nurse into tying her to the examination table. The doctor was busy with another patient and Betty ended up waiting for quite some time. The nurse was intrigued and when Doctor Davis walked in he found Betty happily extolling the delights of slavery to a blushing, but fascinated nurse. The nurse fled when he entered but she heard Betty telling the doctor that she needed a really good flogging followed by a long fuck. Ever the gentleman, he did fuck Betty on the table but despite her pleas, he wouldn't whip her in the office, saying that the noise would carry.

He came to the house and checked Maria over. She showed her welts proudly.

Doctor Davie complimented Mark on the splendid whip work but suggested that if he was going to put his slaves through marathon whippings, that they ought not to be suspended the entire time.

“Maria is exhausted,” the doctor told us. “And she's dehydrated. Hanging a woman by her wrists for more than a couple of hours puts a serious strain on her system.”

“But Doctor, I had many, many orgasms,” Maria interjected with a proud smile.

“Yes, but each orgasm burns up a lot of energy,” he told her.

Maria stretched contentedly. “I will regain my energy when I have taken a nap. Then I will be ready for my Padrone again.” She looked at Mark adoringly.

“Absolutely not,” the doctor said. “No whippings for you for at least three days.”

Maria's mouth flew open in indignation.

“You heard what the doctor said,” Mark said firmly.

“Si, padrone,” she said meekly.

Doctor Davie agreed to stay for lunch. I whispered for Mark to keep him busy for a few minutes and motioned for Tom to follow me to my room.

“The doctor probably hasn't had fun with a slave in several years,” I told Tom. “Let's see if we can get him out of his shell.”

“Ok, Mom. What do you have in mind?”

“I want you to prepare me for torture then bring him up here.”

I knew that the doctor had enjoyed placing his wife into exceptionally strict bondage. They practiced cocooning and mummification. Sometimes at parties he would wrap her from head to toe in linen bindings until only her nostrils were uncovered, then he would lean her against the wall and have fun with other slaves while she remained immobile. I personally never really enjoyed that sort of thing but she told me that being mummified gave her a long steady tingle in her pussy.

I decided to present myself to the doctor as tightly bound as possible.

I undressed and dug out a set of leather bands from my closet. They are thick, heavy, unlined leather, dyed a dull reddish brown and equipped with massive iron buckles. They resemble harness for a plow horse.

I lay on the bed and Tom started at my ankles with a five inch wide strap. He worked his way up my legs buckling one strap above and another below my knees. Then a wide belt went around my waist and a slimmer one under my breasts. Tom rolled me over and buckled my wrists together, then my upper arms. He tugged that one so tight that my elbows were touching. He sat me up and put a couple more straps around my arms and chest, and finally a stiff posture collar on my neck.

When he finished I was almost covered by the straps. It was impossible to move and difficult to breathe. Tom stepped back and looked me over.

“Now tighten each buckle one more notch,” I told him.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don't think they could be any tighter.”

“One more notch, dear.”

He strained and tugged at the buckles and had to press his knee against my body to get leverage, but he managed to tighten the straps. I felt my hands and feet going numb before he finished.

“That's as tight as they are going to get,” Tom said. “I can't even force my finger between them and your skin.”

“Perfect,” I said. “Just the way Doctor Davie likes it.”

“Are you sure he'd want your legs strapped together?” Tom asked. “Won't he want to fuck you?”

“If he wants my legs apart, I'm sure he'll get them open,” I said. “But we'll start off like this. Now hang me upside down.”

He pushed the wall button that lowered a cable from the ceiling. He clipped the cable to my ankle strap and hoisted my feet into the air. I slid along the bed until my head was clear of the mattress. He raised me until my head about three feet above the floor.

“How's that?”

“Wonderful,” I said. “Now go get the Doctor.”

‘Ok,” He grasped my nipples and walked backwards to the door, pulling my body with him. He released me and walked out.

I was still swinging when Doctor Davie walked in.

“My dear Mrs. Albers! You didn't have to go to all this trouble,” he protested.

“Its the least I can do, doctor. After all, you came all the way out here on the weekend when I'm sure you had plans.”

“Actually, I am playing golf this afternoon,” he said, glancing at his watch. “But not until two o'clock.”

I read the bedroom clock from my upside down position.

“That gives you four hours to have your way with me,” I said. “Help yourself to the whips in my closet.”

He opened the closet door and examined the assortment of whips, paddles, crops and nipple clamps.

“Splendid collection,” he said. “But I've always been rather partial to spanking ladies with my bare hand.”

He removed his jacket and tie and hung them carefully in the closet. Then he spanked me.

 

Doctor Davie spanked me for four hours. He started with me upside down and spanked my ass and breasts until they were bright pink. He is surprisingly strong and I was squealing in genuine, but delicious pain. At my suggestion, he gagged me.

After warming me up, the doctor took a position beside me, spread his feet to a firm stance, extended his arm and smacked my butt in a full roundhouse swing that knocked me into a pendulum motion. He watched until my swing and writhing had subsided a bit, then hit me again. I watched him in the mirror. He rotated his upper body and swung his arm as if he were playing handball. At each blow my pelvis shot forward, my head and shoulders snapped back and my body went into a convulsive ripple. I rocked back and forth as I swung. His hand stung my bottom like fire and I had orgasm after orgasm.

Always the professional medical man, Doctor Davie watched me carefully and when he determined that I had been hanging upside down long enough he clipped a leather strap to my collar, lifted my head and shoulders, and hooked its other end to my ankles. This bent me at the waist and kept my head up, which was more comfortable, but made my butt more accessible.

The new position placed my bottom at the level of the doctor's cock. He undressed completely and forced his iron hard cock between my legs. It didn't go inside my pussy but must have felt warm and tight enough to him, because he came and spurted between my legs. His semen even spurted through to land on my belly. I thought it was delightful.

He went into the bathroom and washed up, then lowered me to the floor. He lifted me easily and carried me to a chair. He bent me over his lap and spanked me some more. I was impressed to feel his cock grow hard and press against my tummy. I tried to talk through my gag to suggest that he undo my legs and fuck me, but of course I was unintelligible. He ignored my mumbling and spanked my butt with a steady, relentless rhythm that drove me wild.

After about a thousand or so spanks the doctor placed me on the bed. He put me face down and slid his cock between my legs again. My pussy was warmer and much damper now. I'd never been fucked that way and it was oddly pleasant. It got better when he rolled me onto my back and forced his cock between my legs from the front. Even though it didn't enter my pussy, his cock rubbed my clitoris in a delightful fashion. I came several times. So did he.

During a break, he glanced out the window.

“Do your sons know how to properly hang a woman without injuring her?” he asked.

I nodded.

“That's reassuring, because they're hanging your daughter and your niece from a tree limb,” he said. “And the other young men are whipping them.”

I made a sound under my gag trying to let him know that I wasn't worried for the girls. He seemed to understand. He watched for a moment then turned from the window.

“Does your daughter enjoy torture?” he asked.

I nodded as well as I could in the collar.

“Well, if she is half the slave and half the woman that you are, she will fetch a high price someday.”

I was quite flattered. I wanted him to fuck me. I muttered in my gag and thrashed my legs as much as possible.

“I know what you want,” he chuckled. “But I enjoy intercourse with a woman with her legs closed.”

I frowned uncomprehendingly.

“My wife liked to be bound from head to toe,” he said. “I wrapped her in leather, rubber, ropes, you name it. And she enjoyed wearing restrictive costumes. She had a number of them, including a mermaid costume,” he explained.

“The seamstress was very clever and made the upper half so that my wife's breasts were bare but her arms were secured at her back. The costume blended her arms so smoothly against her body that it appeared that she had no arms. The lower part was a fish tail that kept her legs tightly together. A vee shaped opening in the front was designed to expose her pussy to view, but one evening I thrust my cock between her legs and fucked her in that fashion. We discovered that we enjoyed that very much. After that I usually fucked her with her legs together.”

My heart melted. I vowed to myself to have a mermaid costume made and let dear sweet Doctor Davie fuck me to his heart's desire. Then it occurred to me that I could also have costumes made for the girls and Maria. He could have a whole school of mermaid slaves.

An image popped into my mind of four mermaids; my daughter, my niece, my maid, and me, on the ground flopping like fish out of water while the doctor fucked us. Another image caught my imagination too. This time we were hanging upside down from a rack on a dock, like freshly caught game fish, while the doctor proudly posed in front of us. My pussy tingled.

Doctor Davie showered and dressed, then rehung me upside down from the ceiling. He stepped back and smacked my breast one last time with a blow that set me spinning, then with a slight bow, he left.

Tom brought everyone to my room to show them the heavy leather bands around my body. Naturally this led to me getting spanked by all six boys.

Since it was their last night at the estate the boys took us to dinner. They wanted to go to someplace special. We slaves dressed in formal outfits, but had to wear slacks and long sleeves to conceal our whip marks. Maria was too exhausted to go and stayed in bed. My sons loaned our guests suits and ties and we drove to town in the old stretched limo. We had a delightful dinner at one of the most elegant restaurants and it was pleasant for the three of us to be escorted by six handsome young gentlemen.

We made a bit of a stir when we entered the restaurant. The maitre d' made a show of conducting us to our table and the boys jockeyed to hold our chairs for us. I smiled at several people I knew and got a couple of knowing smiles from some of my closer friends. The ones who knew why I would be wearing long sleeves and slacks.

One couple, Paul and Evelyn Griffin, stopped by our table, and while the boys were introduced to Paul, Evelyn and I made kissing noises an inch from each other's cheek.

“My dear, aren't you roasting in that outfit?” Evelyn asked me archly. “Long sleeves on a warm night like this?”

She wore several bangle bracelets on each wrist and briefly slid them back to reveal fresh deep indentations from leather wrist cuffs.

“What have you been up to lately?” I asked.

“Oh, you know,” she said. “The same old things.”

She bent forward and whispered in my ear. “Actually I've been hanging from the rafters all afternoon while hubby whipped my tits.” I glanced at her breasts and saw fresh whip marks above her bra. She straightened up. “What about you?” she asked in a normal tone.

“I've been doing the same,” I said. “All week long.”

She smiled at my joke, then saw that I wasn't smiling. She glanced at the girls who were smiling sweetly at her. Kathy touched her fingertips together in a gesture of satisfaction. Ann made a show of examining her nails. Evelyn frowned in puzzlement for a moment, then she realized that the girls were in long sleeves too. Her mouth dropped open.

“Are you serious?” she gasped.

“We've had house guests this week,” Ann told her.

“Mark's fraternity buddies from college,” Kathy added.

Evelyn looked at the other end of the table, where the boys were chatting with her husband. The group looked perfectly normal, a group of clean cut, well bred young men speaking respectfully to an older gentleman.

Evelyn clamped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes grew even bigger. I nodded in confirmation.

She squealed faintly behind her hand, then with a visible effort, got herself under control. She pressed her hands to her bosom, rolled her eyes up to heaven, and took several deep breaths.

“We just have to get together for lunch,” she said breathlessly. “You must tell me everything.”

“That will require a long lunch,” Ann laughed. “Its been a long week.”

“A very, very long week,” giggled Kathy.

“I'll call you tomorrow,” Evelyn said to me. “I can't wait to hear the story.”

She kissed my cheek and went to her husband. “I hate to interrupt gentlemen,” she said to the boys. “But we just have to be getting home.”

Her husband looked at her curiously as she dragged him away.

“She's quite the drama queen,” Kathy observed.

“Wait until you see her whipped to orgasm in front of a crowd,” I said. “She puts on quite a show.”

“Does she fake it?” Ann asked.

“No, but she makes sure that everyone in earshot knows she's having an orgasm.,” I said.

“She certainly left in a hurry. I wonder what she has in mind?” Ann asked.

“I'll bet it involves, her tits, a whip,” Kathy giggled. “And more hang time at the rafters.”

 

The boys left the next morning. We dressed in our sexiest outfits to see them off. Maria wore a maid's uniform of stiff gold silk, gold stocking and gold heels. The girls wore matching harem slave costumes with transparent pantaloons, gold jackets, and gold slippers with bells. They sprinkled gold dust in their hair and on their breasts. I wore my fanciest pony girl harness of gold and silver and topped with an extravagant fan of gold ostrich plumes.

Everyone cried and hugged and cried some more. The boys didn't want to leave and we begged them to stay. Finally Mark and Tom physically shoved the boys one by one into the car and drove away. We waved until the car was out of sight, then went back to bed.

I slept for twenty four hours. When I awoke it was Monday morning, the girls were still asleep, Maria was puttering around the kitchen, and I was so stiff and sore that I could barely move.

We lounged on the porch over coffee.

“I miss them already,” Maria said sadly.

“Well, we have some preparations to make,” I told her.

“What preparations?”

“I invited them to come back in the summer,” I said.

Maria perked up. “For how long?”

“Three months.”

“Mother of God!”