A soft moan escaped her lips as her body started to stretch, the ropes around her wrists pulling taut as a second rope, running between her wrists and up and around a rafter, lifted her onto her toes.  Her head fell back and her breath quickened as her joints stretched and her wrists chafed.  Her breasts flattened against her chest, her nipples hardening as she was lifted off her feet, a sublime ache permeating her young body.

 

Her stomach hollowed, exaggerating the curves on her slender 13 year old frame, her buttocks full and firm.

 

"I have a gift for you, slut."

 

Her eyes, fogged with lust, focused on her master.  "Oh God."  She licked her lips, a shudder of desire running down her suspended body as she gazed upon the cane.

 

"Would you like me to use it?  Would you like me to beat you?"

 

"Please...please."

 

"So you want me to beat you slut?"

 

"Oh God yes God yes please."

 

He smiled and started, bringing the cane down against her beautiful flesh, shining from the sweat of her lust.  He started on her stomach, taut and hard because of her suspension, and, as she twisted and cried out, attacked her breasts and nipples.  The cane, thin and flexible, whistled through the air as he struck her, his garage filled with the sounds of her ragged breathing, her cries, her moans, and the sound of the cane striking her young flesh.

 

He watched her writhe in her bonds, marks from the cane spreading across her body as he kept beating her, now focusing on her gorgeous ass and back, ignoring her long, straight, light brown hair.  Her moans became louder, her breathing more ragged; he dropped the cane and stepped in front of her, grabbing her slender thighs, wet with her juices, lifting them even as she reached out with them to capture his hips, her ankles locking around his back, pulling them together, his cock plunging into her in a single stroke.

 

She screamed, and her cunt spasmed around him; he grabbed her by her hair and yanked her head back brutally, her mouth pulling open, her eyes focused inward even as he bent over her and kissed her hard, tasting her mouth and her moans as she came, bucking and grinding against him.  He held on, keeping himself on edge, her body small and light against his, until her body quieted, and she let out a long, low moan into his mouth as her legs slipped down his thighs.

 

He grabbed her thighs, sliding his hands down her legs as he lifted them up, until he was grasping her slender ankles at his shoulders, her body jackknifed in mid-air, still fully impaled on his cock.

 

"Oh God," she moaned, her eyes gazing down at her body, at where they met.

 

Then he started fucking, hard, brutally, slamming his hips against her upturned ass, drawing sharp cries from her each time his cock punched against the back of her cunt, the sound of flesh against flesh reverberating through the garage.  Her head hung back, her hair, heavy with her sweat, flying about beneath her; he felt her shudder and shake and her young, teenaged cunt clamp down on his cock as if trying to keep it from leaving.  Again she came, and again, and finally, a fourth time and he couldn't hold it, the sight of this young girl, her fresh, nubile body, her uncontrolled passion, his domination of her, her grasping, clutching, spasming cunt was too much, and he came, his cum splashing into her.

 

She was kneeling in front of him while he leaned against his workbench, her soft mouth around his cock, caressing it, cleaning it, bringing it back to life.  Her hands, still bound in front of her, were at her crotch, her fingers playing with her clit as he commanded, keeping her ready for him.  As she slid her throat down his cock, her lips meeting the base of him, she rolled her eyes up to him in adoration; she loved him, as only a 13 year old girl could.

 

Her body was pressed, face down, into the hard, concrete floor of the garage, her body covered by his, her breasts crushed beneath her, her stomach and thighs and arms scraping against the unyielding surface as he pounded his cock into her ass.  She writhed against the floor, against him, greedy for the pain and the pleasure that was consuming her body.  Her mind drifted into a maelstrom of sensation as her body flushed and spasmed in another orgasm, her muscles involuntarily clenching, cramping, pain exploding out from it, ripping a scream from her throat and another orgasm from her body and it went on and on and on.

 

Finally it stopped, and she was left panting and sweating and spent on the ground as his cock popped out of her ass.

 

"You should get home, poppet, it's past 1.  I'll see you tomorrow, midnight, as usual."

 

"Yes sir."

 

------------------------------------

 

My master told me to keep this log, and to start from the beginning, and to pretend that I didn't know what was going to happen.  When I asked him when the beginning was, he smiled and said it was at the barbecue last summer, just a month before I started high-school.  Thinking back, I remember that my father invited a few friends and neighbors, and I invited a few of my friends, including my best friend, Kaley.

 

We were all hanging out away from the adults when Kaley brought up Brooke.  Brooke was very big news.  Just a week before she had been found wandering around in the woods, naked and beat up, and three guys from the high-school had been arrested for rape.  We were all gossiping about it, wondering if they had really done it and what had been done to her and if she had deserved it or asked for it.  Kaley was our inside girl, since her brother was friends with one of the suspects.

 

I remember she started talking about pictures that one of the guys had taken of her on his cell phone.  None of us could believe it--pictures!  And all of us wanted to see them.  Kaley denied she had seen them, but said they were brutal.  We continued to gossip, Kaley in the center of everything, her eyes shining as she recounted various scandalous things she had heard about Brooke.

 

Kaley is my best friend and has been since we were in first grade.  She's a tiny girl, only about four-nine and eighty lbs or so, and sometimes the other girls tease her about having the body of a boy (except for her long, straight blond hair, which she always wears pulled back into a ponytail); they never tease her for long--she can be a real bitch, and is always in charge or in the center of things.

 

So we're gossiping, and I remember starting to totally obsess about those pictures; I mean, I really, really wanted to see them.  I kept asking her if she had seen them, and if she could get them, and wondering what was on them, until she started to tease me about being a sicko and a perv.

 

My master says that this is when he first noticed me; he said I had a look in my eyes when we were talking about Brooke.

 

Nothing really happened until the next day.  I should explain something.  My dad and our neighbor, Mr. Cameron, both work at the same company, and he's got a pool.  He's been letting me and my friends use it whenever we want since I was 10, and lets us use his kitchen and bathroom, so I've got a key.  He's cool.  Kaley thinks he's hot, but he's old, not as old as my dad, but at least 30.

 

So, the next day, Sunday, me and Kaley were hanging out by the pool, and Mr. Cameron was sitting at a lawn table working on his computer, when she called me over and pulled out her laptop.  We both huddled over the laptop, keeping the sun off the screen, keeping our voices down because she was clearly about to show me something secret, when she pulled up THE pictures.

 

They were of Brooke, and oh my god they were brutal.  There were only four, and they weren't that clear, but I couldn't take my eyes off them.  I remember when Kaley showed me the first one I couldn't believe it; it was of Brooke, senior Brooke, kneeling naked in the woods, her arms behind her, tears streaking her cheeks, her full breasts marked and bloody, her flat stomach pulled in and criss-crossed with welts, the front of her thighs also marked up.  God, it was unbelievable.  Kaley kept zooming into different parts of the picture, going on and on about how fucked up "the bitch" was, and what a job they had done on her.

 

I don't remember much except that I was obsessed; every mark on her body seemed to make my heart pound harder, and my breathing quicker.  I didn't know what I was feeling, but I couldn't look away.  The next picture was a view from partly behind her, showing her bent over a log, her hands tied behind her back; and somebody was clearly fucking her, but you could only see his hips and ass.  I remembering shuddering, the only words I could say were 'oh my god'.

 

Kaley was similarly obsessed, zooming around the picture, pointing out to me every little degradation that Brooke must have suffered, pointing out that he 'must be fucking her ass'.

 

The third picture showed her across the log again, but it was a closeup of her crotch, her ass and the back of her thighs covered in welts, and thick branches jutting a couple inches out of both her pussy and ass.  It must have hurt so much; it was so brutal.  I couldn't stop thinking about how brutal, how humiliating, how painful it must have been.  I remember Kaley was talking but I couldn't hear her through the pounding in my head.  I remember gripping the top of my thighs with my hands as I leaned in close to Kaley.

 

The fourth picture, the fourth picture showed Brooke on her back, her arms still bound behind her back, her back arched off the ground, her feet flat on the ground and her thighs wide as a huge branch was being shoved into her cunt.  You could see the hands of one of the boys on one of the the branch as he seemed to be lifting her up by her cunt.

 

I remember the only thing Kaley had to say about that picture was 'Damn.'  We must both have been looking at it for a while because when I looked up I saw Mr. Cameron looking at us.  I flushed in embarrassment, coming out of a haze, stood up, and jumped in the pool.  I made Kaley promise to send copies of the pictures to my secret e-mail address.

 

------------------------------------

 

She stood in front of him in his garage, dressed in one of her old cheerleading uniforms, the top molded to her body, emphasizing her young breasts, leaving her belly exposed; the skirt too small, coming down to mid-thigh.  She stared intently at the belts in his hands as he ran his eyes over her body, anticipation making her quiver.  Her breathing quickened as he approached her, and she gasped as he slapped her across the face.

 

"Oh God."

 

"Kneel, slut."

 

She knelt on the concrete, her feet together, her naked buttocks resting on her heels, her knees apart, her skirt riding up her thighs, the cloth dipping between her spread legs.  He walked behind her and pulled her arms behind her back, gripping her painfully, pulling a soft moan from her lips.  The strap tightened around her elbows, drawing them together, pain radiating out from her shoulders.  His hands pulled her wrists together and her wrists were similarly bound; she began to pant with lust as the ache in her shoulders intensified.

 

"Down."

 

He accompanied his command with a kick to her back, knocking her down.  He kept pressing until she was flat on the hard concrete floor, her breasts flattened beneath her.  She moaned, a soft, long moan of desire.

 

"Crawl to the drain, slut."

 

So she crawled on her belly, her arms bound behind her, the breasts dragging over the concrete, grit and grime digging into her thighs and stomach, her top tearing at her tits as she dragged herself across the ground, sharp cries of pain followed by deep moans as her sexual excitement grew.

 

"Turn over.  Feet flat."

 

She had reached the drain, and painfully rolled over, a sob of pain and lust as her weight came to rest on her bound arms.  She placed her feet on the ground, near her ass, her knees bent, her skirt falling around her hips, exposing her cunt and ass to his eyes.  She looked up at him, her heart beating hard, her mind swirling with lust, her breathing rapid.  He had stripped, his cock semi-erect as he stood between her legs, towering over her.

 

Surprise, shock, and then lust washed through her as she watched a stream of urine come from his cock, striking her breasts, splashing onto her face, the acrid smell of piss filling her nostrils, coating her lips, soaking her top.  Her nipples, hard already, seemed to harden even more, her whole body shuddering and arching as the stream struck her face, filling her moaning mouth with piss, running out from between her lips, the taste burning, humiliating, degrading her as she writhed on the hard concrete.

 

The stream slid down her body, across her stomach, soaking her skirt, to splatter against her spread cunt.

 

"Ohgodohgodohgodogod" she moaned, her hips bucking upwards and rolling erotically as if welcoming a lover, her eyes open but seeing nothing as pleasure blasted through her, making her young body jerk lewdly on the floor until finally she collapsed, panting with release.

 

She lay there, lost in her degradation, the smell of his urine strong, her top and skirt warm and clinging with his piss, making her feel dirty, slutty, worthless except as his slave.  She started, arching up as a hard stream of cold water struck her stomach, bringing her out of her reverie, making her shiver with cold.  She closed her eyes as he continued to spray her down like an animal, her lust reignited as he brought the stream against her cunt.

 

He watched as she bucked her hips up against the stream of water digging into her cunt, tearing at her clit.  It was like she was fucking an imaginary lover, her breaths coming in gasps as she brought herself closer and closer to orgasm.  He waited until she was close and moved the stream to her breasts, the stream digging into her soft flesh, her face dripping water.  He played the stream over her teenaged body for a good ten minutes, teasing her with its uncaring brutality, beating her flesh with the stream until she was writhing and bucking and moaning in lust.

 

He fell on top of her, his body crushing her beneath him, his cock plunging into her warm, welcoming, spasming cunt, a scream torn from her throat as she came.  He pounded brutally into her, trying to drive himself through her, his lips locked on hers as she panted and moaned.  Her legs lifted around his hips, her ankles locking behind his back as she greedily pulled herself into him; she came, and then came again and he couldn't keep from cumming, filling her young belly with cum as pleasure burned through him.

 

He had cum in her mouth, her arms still bound behind her, and had made her show him his own cum before allowing her to swallow it.  She had wanted him to fuck her again, but she was his to do with as he pleased.  She shuddered in lust at that thought as she climbed back through her window.

 

------------------------------------

 

My father has installed kid-spy software on all of our computers, so I really can't share secrets on email or chat; luckily, both Kaley and Mr. Cameron let me use their computers, so I keep a secret email address (xxxxxx) for all the juicy stuff from my friends.  The next day was Monday, so Mr. Cameron was at work, and I couldn't keep my mind off of those pictures of Brooke.  As soon as I could, I put on my bikini and headed over to my neighbor's pool, texting Kaley, asking if she had sent THEM yet.

 

As I waited, I reclined by the pool, my eyes closed against the sun, letting my mind drift.  I remember that I couldn't help but think about those pictures.  They were so dark, so brutal; Brooke looked so tortured, so humiliated, so broken.  The images ran through my mind, and I imagined what led up to them, but instead of Brooke, it was me.  It was me lying across a trunk, the rough bark tearing at my tender skin, my wrists burning from the bonds cutting into them, screams being torn from my throat as the boys took turns beating my ass and thighs with switches.  And then quiet, except for my sobs, before one of them grabbed me by my hips and shoved himself into my ass.

 

The images in my mind switched, and now I was laying on my back, exhausted, beaten, aching, my arms still bound behind me, my legs spread wide; I think they are done with me; I think it's all over.  Then shock as one of them steps on my neck, and another on my stomach, pinning me down; shock as I feel another thick branch against my pussy, and I begin to cry in humiliation and pain as it is shoved into me, tearing my insides.  The other boys release me, and the one with the branch in me began to move it around, moving me about like a puppet, making my hips thrust up and down and back while the others looked and laughed.

 

I remember what I was thinking because for the first time in my life my body seemed to be burning with lust, although I didn't recognize it at the time.

 

My phone ringing shocked me out of my thoughts:  Kaley's message read, "Sent them last night.  Enjoy :)".

 

I jumped up and practically ran into Mr. Cameron's living room, where he keeps one of his computers.  I logged into my secret email account and there they were; bigger, clearer, more detailed.  The pictures.  I remember pulling them up one by one, staring at them, my mind hazing over, one hand on the mouse and the other clenching my thigh.  I don't know how long I was sitting there, but I do know that I was staring at the last picture, the picture of Brooke impaled and controlled by the branch, when it happened.

 

I don't remember what happened next, because I only really remember what I felt:  panic, fear, uncertainty, humiliation, desire -- god the desire became so powerful.  My master tells me that this is what happened:

 

I practically jumped out of the chair when I felt a hand grip my shoulder; I tried desperately to hide the picture, but another hand covered my hand on the mouse.  It was Mr. Cameron, practically holding me in place, his face next to mine as I opened my mouth to explain, my body tense and my heart racing with panic.

 

"That's my favorite, too."

 

I didn't say anything; I was in shock.

 

He took his hand off of my shoulder and pointed at the screen, "You see how her back is arched, how the muscles in her ass are clenched?  See there?  How he's holding the branch?  He's forcing her into that position--she must be in agony."

 

"Mr. Cameron, I'm ..."

 

My master thinks I was going to apologize, but I don't even remember that I said anything.

 

"What would your father say if he knew you were looking at these?"

 

I must have been on the verge of panic; he would have killed me.  "Please, please Mr. Cameron ...".  He let me dangle there for what seemed like forever.

 

"Does it turn you on?"

 

My master says that my face registered shock at this question.  I stammered something, and then I remember pain as he grabbed the back of my neck and squeezed, demanding.

 

"I asked, do these pictures turn you on?"

 

"I... I don't know."

 

He says I blushed red as he swept his eyes over my body, covered only in a bikini, coming to rest at my crotch.

 

"That damp spot on your crotch says you are."

 

My master said that he had never seen such a mortified expression on anybodies face, ever, than mine when I looked down at myself and saw my bikini bottoms, soaked with my girl-juice.

 

"So, are you the one holding the branch, or the one receiving the branch?"

 

He was leaning over me now, his forearm resting on my shoulder, he face next to mine, facing the picture.  I had my hands in my lap, my head down, like I was trying to disappear.

 

"Amy?", he repeated himself, "holding or receiving?"

 

In a whisper, "Receiving."

 

I remember the next part; his hand was on my breast, covering it and my bikini top completely, and he started squeezing.  Pain flooded through me, but also desire, and I gasped.  It seemed to go on forever, his hand, the pressure, the pain, the desire, my heart pounding in my head, my breaths coming shallower and shallower, my mind spinning.

 

And then he let me go and stood up.

 

"I have to get back to my study and do some work.  Sneak out of your room and meet me here at midnight tonight and I won't have to mention this to your father, and maybe you'll be able to experience just a little of what she's receiving."

 

------------------------------------

 

She straddled his body, her cunt engulfing him, her hips grinding and lifting in small circles, her hands flat against his chest as he reclined in an easy chair.   Her hair hung down over her face, sweat covering her body as small moans escaped between her panting.  A small, plaid skirt covered their groins, brushing against his pubis whenever she ground into him.  A small bell, attached by a strong clip to her right breast, jingled constantly with her motions. Her eyes were lidded, her vision turned inward as she felt every inch of his cock inside her, stretching her, grinding against her cervix.  Her muscles ached from exhaustion and her ass still throbbed and burned from the paddling she had received almost an hour ago.  She had already come 5 times.

 

When she had arrived he had made her strip and put on a plaid skirt that barely covered her ass.  He had sent her to his room to get the paddle, a tool slightly larger than a ping-pong paddle with holes drilled in it, and made heavy by the metal studs set in it.  Without a word he had pulled her down across his lap as he sat in his easy chair and started beating her.  He had been relentless, beating her firm young ass until his arm tired, until she was sobbing deep, heaving sobs at the pain, until her ass was a mass of dark bruises.  Then he had switched sides and used his other arm until that too was exhausted.

 

When he was done, he had to practically lift her up, she was in such a state, tears streaking her face.  He placed her over him, and told her to place his cock inside her.  Still sobbing, she had reached down, her small hands encircling his cock, and guided it into her cunt.  He watched her face as she slid down on him, her lips parting in a silent 'O', her body shuddering as she flattened her groin against his, his cock pressing hard into her cervix, her expression transformed as her thighs shook and she came.  He took a small bell and clipped it to her breast.

 

He had been instructing her for the last hour, teaching her how to use her body and her cunt for him.  He had told her to grind her hips in slow, teasing circles, pulling halfway off his cock as she pulled her ass back.  The bell was to jingle constantly, her firm young breasts kept in constant motion.  Once she had mastered that, his hands instructing her, slowing her down, speeding her up, showing her how to rotate her hips, he had started to teach her how to use her cunt.  As she slid his cock out of her, she was to tighten her cunt; releasing it to receive him back in.  Tighten, release, tighten, release, broken only by her orgasms.

 

He had already come in her once, telling her not to stop.  As he watched her, lost in her own pleasure, he grew close again.  His neighbor girl, his 13-year old neighbor girl:  slim, lithe, beautiful, sexy.  She was his, his plaything, his toy, his sweet, sweet slutty little masochist.  She joined him in his orgasm, collapsing on top of him, her small body hot against his as she drifted off into sleep.

That day I didn't know what to do.  Kaley called, but I didn't want to see anybody.  I stayed in my room, thinking about how incredible it had felt with Mr. Cameron's hand crushing my boob, thinking about how horrible it was that he was such a pervert, worrying about him telling my father what I had been doing, worrying that if I told anybody what he had done nobody would believe me.  I didn't eat well all day, and kept telling myself that I wasn't going to meet him, that I wasn't going to show up.  But then I thought I should, and just talk to him, so he wouldn't tell my father what I had done.  But then I knew that if I showed up he would want to do things to me, awful things, things like those boys had done to Brooke, and that thought made my mind spin, remembering his hand hurting me.

 

All day I obsessed about it, and told my parents I wasn't feeling well so they would stop worrying about me.  I went to be early, but couldn't sleep.  I kept watching the clock, my body seeming to grow hotter with each passing minute.  I was shaking when the clock reached midnight; I still didn't know what to do.  I had to go over there; I knew if I did he would fuck me, but I told myself I was just going to talk to him, knowing that I was lying to myself.  I got up and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and grabbed a pair of slippers.

 

It's easy sneaking out of my room--I used to do it all the time when I was 10; open the window, climb down the trellis.  It seemed like as soon as I made the decision I was in his yard, sliding his back door open, and stepping into his house.  He was sitting in the living room, the light from the TV the only one in the house, and he turned when he heard me enter.  I froze as he stood up and started to walk over to me.

 

"You're late."

 

"..."

 

He took me by the shoulders and I grew warm and kept my head down as I felt his gaze sweep my body.  He was so big compared to me, I remember thinking.  Six feet tall maybe, like my father; and maybe one-seventy.  I was only five-four and ninety-five lbs.  He was in his boxers and a t-shirt.  He turned and led my by my shoulder.

 

"Come on."

 

I was in a daze as he led me upstairs, and I tried to protest, thinking he was taking me to his bedroom, but he quieted me, telling me he was taking me to his study.

 

His study was the size of my room, but had two computers, a desk, a filing cabinet, and several bookshelves.  He hit a key on the computer and my eyes were drawn to the screen as it came to life, the fourth picture, the picture that I was caught looking at, came up.  He sat down, pulling me into his lap, my legs straddling his.  I was shaking by now, knowing what was coming, not wanting it and wanting it.  I could feel his cock against my ass, and tried not to move.

 

"Tell me, tell me why this picture turns you on so much."

 

His voice was commanding, his hands hot against my stomach as he held me to him.  The picture seemed to fill my sight.  I started babbling,

 

"It's...it's how she must have felt.  How she must have thought it was all over, that they were done with her.  And then this."  Through my shaking I shuddered.  "The pain as that branch ripped into her.  It must have hurt, hurt so much.  Tearing her, ripping her.  And the despair, that they weren't done with her, that she had to suffer more.  It's like she wasn't human to them; she was nothing.  Something to play with, to torture.  That they could do anything to her and she could do nothing.  That even her most private spot could be violated and used against her, used to control her.  It's so brutal.  It's so awful."

 

I went on and on like that, I don't know how long, but I know that his hands had moved, and one had slid between the buttons on my pajama top and his hand was hot against my breast, squeezing, the pain making me shiver and shake and my teeth chatter so I had a hard time talking.  I remember thinking that I had to keep talking; it was like I was trying to ignore his hands, his hand on my breast, his other hand under my pajama bottoms, under my panties, his fingers rubbing my clit, making me gasp and chatter out my words.

 

I stopped talking as it built up in me; it hurt, but it felt so good I didn't want it to stop.  I felt his cock hard against my ass, his fingers sending electric shocks through my cunt, his hand on my breast making my whole chest ache in the most wonderful way.  He seemed to engulf me; there was nothing I could do.  The feeling grew until I felt like I couldn't stand it anymore, and then I came, my back arching against his grasp, panting, shaking, my first orgasm ever seeming to burn my body.  I went limp in his arms.

 

"Girls like you," he spoke softly in my ear, "don't want to be made love to."  I noticed a set of padded wrist restraints for the first time as he reached across me take them from his desk.  "Girls like you want to be raped."  He slid one on the restraints on my wrist and tightened it.  "Beaten."  He slid the other one onto my other wrist.  "Fucked."  He leaned me forward in his lap, pulling my arms behind me, my mind spinning.   "Their slutty cunts pounded by cock."  I heard a click and my arms were bound behind me.  I moaned, desire seeming to pound through my body with each heart beat.  "Fuck-sluts."  He stood up, lifting me easily.  "Rape-toys."  He was carrying me somewhere; I didn't care where.  I was in some other place.  "Cunt-meat."

 

We were in his garage; it was dim, lit by a single bulb.  He carried me to an old mattress lying on the ground and dropped me onto my back on it.  He tore my pajama bottoms off me, and my panties, and he was leaning over me, ripping open my top, exposing my tits.  I was exposed, and watched as he stood and stepped out of his boxers, his cock looking huge to me.  It was happening so fast I couldn't think, I couldn't react.  I lay there listening to the pounding of my own heart and shaking with desire, realizing that that huge thing was going to be inside of me, fucking me, hurting me.

 

He practically fell on me, pushing my thighs apart, pushing his cock against my virgin cunt.  I was staring up into his chest as he pushed harder and harder.  I was saying "Oh god oh god" over and over and then I screamed and arched as he entered me, sliding into my slick cunt in one slow, agonizing thrust.  It was torment; I was being torn apart; I didn't want it to ever stop.  He began thrusting, and I began grunting.  Every time he thrust in his cock jolted my insides, sending shooting jolts of electric pain through my body. 

 

He was covering my completely, crushing me beneath him as he pounded into me.  I felt that feeling again, that pressure building up until I thought I was going to go crazy.  It was like last time, but more, worse, better, and then I screamed when I couldn't take it anymore and came, pinned down beneath him.  He didn't stop though; he kept fucking me, bruising my thighs and cunt with his pounding.  He seemed to speed up and I was overwhelmed; the pressure hadn't gone away, it was getting stronger, and stronger, more painful, more pleasurable.  I was babbling and moaning, my head turning from side to side under him, my face rubbing against his chest, my legs flopping up and back.  I felt him stiffen on top of me and I thought I was going to pass out as I came again.

 

------------------------------------

 

She was bound, spread-eagle, to his bed.  Her wrists and ankles were encircled by padded leather cuffs.  The cuffs at her ankles were linked by a single chain, wrapped around the posts on his bed.  He stood at the foot of the bed and watched her naked body stretch as he used a bar to twist the chain, shortening it.  He heard her joints crack, and she moaned, a deep moan of desire and lust.  He kept turning, hand over hand, and the chain kept shortening, and her moans came longer and loader, and her body became tauter and tauter. 

 

He sat down on his bed next to her, running his hand along her flattened stomach, amazed by the narrowness of her waist.  This young girl was his, his willing sex slave.  He smiled as he saw the wetness at her crotch, and reached over to the nightstand to get this night's entertainment.

 

Her eyes widened when he showed her the pins, four of them, each one inch long and topped by a small round head.  Her breathing quickened and she shuddered in anticipation as he turned to put all but one of them down.  He grasped her nipple, hard with lust, and pulled it away from her flattened breast, torturing the small, pink nubbin between his fingers.  She wanted to arch her back, she wanted to thrust and roll her hips, but only her head and hands and feet were free to move.  She moaned as the pain hit her, as he slid the needle slowly through the flesh just below her areola, pushing it through her stretched breast meat until it came out the other side.

 

Her breathing was rabbit quick, her diaphragm pulled so tight that she could hardly breath.  Her head was back and her eyes closed, drinking in the sensations from her body.  He pulled up her other nipple and inserted the second pin, earning another long, low moan.

 

She felt him shift on the bed, and then felt his fingers spread her pussy lips open, exposing her clit.  The tip of the needle scraped against her clit, sending shock-waves through her bound body; her mind reeled and blood pounded through her head.  She couldn't breath, her body too stretched to let her breath.  Every breath was a soft, rasping scream as he tormented her clit with the needle.

 

For long minutes he toyed with her, torturing her clit with the needle, barely drawing blood and then pulling back, watching her thighs and stomach quiver under his assault, his fingers and the bed-spread becoming soaked with her juices as she screamed and moaned for him.  He stopped, letting her recover, letting her breathing return to normal, stroking her thighs and her stomach as she calmed.  He reached down between her legs again, using his fingers to separate her ass, and slowly pushed the third pin into her perineum.

 

She felt the pin slide in; it didn't hurt, but her tits throbbed, and her clit throbbed, and now between her legs throbbed.  He had one more pin, and she started crying, knowing where he was going to put it, and wanting it and not wanting it so badly.  She felt his hand stroking her cheek.

 

"Now Amy, I have one more pin.  You know where I'm going to put it, don't you?"

 

"Yes, oh god yes."

 

"Beg me."

 

"Oh god, oh god, please, please."

 

"Please what, Amy?"

 

"In my clit!  In my clit!  Please put it in my clit!"

 

"Very good."

 

And he was at her clit, pulling at it, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, making her sob and cry in pleasure and desire and fear.  He slowly began pushing it into her, and she started screaming, and he pushed, and she screamed, and he pushed until his thumb mashed her clit against her steaming flesh, a small metal ball pinning it to her.  Her vision darkened as she panted and moaned and thrashed her head back and forth.

 

Suddenly he was over her, and she felt him press into her sopping cunt.  Then his weight came down, and her body joints cracked under his weight, aching pain flooding her, joining the throbbing in her tits and ass and the fiery agony in her clit.  She came screaming, and thought her body was going to fly apart; and then his groin hit hers, grinding the pin deeper into her clit, and orgasm seemed to tear her apart.  Her eyes were open but she couldn't see, only feel as he began slowly fucking her stretched, tortured body.

 

He took his time, enjoying every little quiver of her bound, teenaged body.  Her cunt seemed to be spasming continuously, and her breath was coming in short, quick gasps.  Her head was thrown back, her eyes open, starting at nothing.  Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen as he teased himself with her body.  He sped up, beginning to pound into her hard, and she screamed and her cunt seemed to suck his cock into her and hold it there.  He came, and when he looked up, she had passed out.

 

------------------------------------

 

I can't believe I fell asleep.  I don't remember falling asleep in my bed that night; I only remember my mind spinning in big, crazy circles around what had just happened.  My neighbor, Mr. Cameron, had fucked me.  He had practically raped me, and I had loved it.  My body flushed with excitement remembering, just a few minutes ago, how I had been used and degraded.  It was awful; it was wonderful.  I couldn't tell anyone.  I wanted to tell everyone.  Everything had changed.  He had told me to come back the next night, same time, and to wear something sexy.  I didn't want to go.  I knew I would go.  Something had gotten ahold of me, a deep, uncontrollable craving.  As much as I was humiliated and ashamed of what I had allowed to happen to me, I wanted more.  More.

 

The day was weird.  Life went along as it always did; breakfast with my parents, talking with Kaley and a few of my other friends on the phone.  Arranging to meet up at the coffee shop at around noon.  It was all different, though, because I was so different.  I still don't believe that they don't see it, that everybody is so blind to what happened, is still happening, to me.  It's like I entered a new world where I was looking out of my own body and nobody else could see in.  Fear of discovery tinged everything, made all my actions, all my words, dangerous.  Knowledge of sex, of the pleasure it could give made me wonder if my friends had experienced it, if they too had a deep, dark secret like me.  Knowledge too of what the looks some boys gave me and my friends really meant, their desire for our bodies seeming to blaze from their eyes, made my body tingle with thoughts of 'if they only knew'.  Finally, awareness that at midnight I would be standing before a man, a real man, and he would do things to me, such things, tinged everything, every word, every look, everything I did, fogged my mind with lust.

 

I think Kaley noticed something was different, because I recall that she gave me a few strange looks that day, and kidded me for being a space-case.  I acted like I always did and waited for midnight, for when he would take me again.

Mr. Cameron stood over her, watching impassively as her slender body heaved as she vomited directly into the drain in the garage.  Her splendid eyes were puffy and bloodshot, tears streaming down them, her lips swollen and bruised, her skin glistening with sweat, her hair tangled by his hands, her arms bound behind her back, wrists to elbows.  She leaned back up, still on her knees, and opened her mouth for him to wash out with the hose, shuddering as the cold water poured over her.  Finishing, he grabbed her by the hair, his hands seeming to engulf her head, and brought her mouth back onto his cock.

 

Lust burned through her young body as the smell of her master's cock overpowered the rancid smell of her own puke.  It had been three days since he had fucked her, three days in which he had denied her release, three days of training her to take him to the root, three days that had filled her mouth and sinuses with vomit that had burned her throat raw.  She had never felt so used, so degraded, so owned, as she did kneeling before him, servicing him without recourse to her own pleasure.  As he pulled her head closer, she felt his cock start to press against her soft palate; she started swallowing and focused on her breathing, feeling the air course through her nose.  She tensed her stomach muscles and worked the back of her tongue against the underside of his cock, her cheeks hollowing to allow them to provide him with friction as he slid his cock in and out of her mouth.

 

Again his cock pressed against the back of her throat, and again she felt her bile rise, fighting it down, wanting to please him, wanting to make him happy.  Then she was there, his pubic hairs tickling her nose; an indescribably joy filled her as she rolled her eyes up to look at him looking down at her, his hand possessively on top of her head.  He moaned a soft moan and it made her shudder as he directed her slowly back off of his cock, only to thrust it back into her throat, harder this time.  His hand clenched in her hair now, and he started to fuck her mouth with long, slow strokes of his cock. 

 

With each plunge of his dick down her throat she clenched her stomach, sending a low buzzing through her ignored cunt.  She rolled her eyes to the side, gazing into the full-length mirror he had set up so that she could see herself, could see his cock sliding in and out of her mouth, her soft lips encircling him, so that she could see herself kneeling submissively as he used her.  The sight made her lust flair and she moaned around his cock, her hips unconsciously gyrating lasciviously. 

 

She watched herself in the mirror as she ground her cunt against his leg, his leg wet with her spend, getting herself off like a 'good bitch', her face red in humiliation.  She remembered how his cock had pulsed in her throat as he came, pressing her face into his groin, her head swimming as her air was cut off, and she came, grunting out her pleasure like the animal she was.

 

 

------------------------------------

 

 

The second night.

 

The second night, before I went to bed, I looked through all my clothes, looking for the sexy.  I remember thinking that sexy meant a short skirt and a halter top, but I didn't have either, since my parents certainly wouldn't allow me to go out in an outfit like that.  I remembered that I still had some old clothes when I was 10 years old, and old skirt I would wear it when it was cold, with tights, and it came down to mid-thigh on me, and a couple of old t-shirts, way too small.  I thought I would look ridiculous in them, but I figured that more flesh meant sexy, and the skirt and the t-shirts would show a lot of flesh.

 

As the time approached, I lay in bed, dressed in my too-tight clothes, an unbuttoned skirt barely covering my ass and a top that came down just over my breasts, the fabric pulled tight around my chest, and quivered in excitement.

 

I don't remember getting over to his house; I just remember opening the sliding glass door from his backyard and stepping into his home, looking for him.  I saw him sitting in his chair, his back toward me, in his living room.

 

"Mr. Cameron?" I said, querying, as I moved toward him.

 

"Call me Sir," he said, and his voice made me shiver.  "Come here and let me look at you."

 

I walked over to him, my feet bare against first the tiles of his kitchen and then the carpet of his living room.  I stepped in front of him, about five feet from his chair, not daring to look at him.

 

"Turn.  Slowly."

 

I glanced at him, wearing only boxers, sucking in my breath at the sight of him nearly naked, and slowly turned, my face burning, my lust rising as I felt his eyes devour me, desire me.  When I finished turning around I felt more than saw him close to me, and then his hand was in my hair, gripping hard, pulling my head back, my mouth gasping just before his locked on mine, his tongue plunging into my mouth as his other hand gripped my ass painfully and pulled me against him, the heat from his body burning against mine.

 

I melted.  Heat flooded through my body and my limbs went weak.  I was his, all his.  And then, as suddenly as he had taken me, he stepped back and dragged me to the ground by my hair.  I cried out in pain as I landed hard on my hands and knees, lust flooding me as he pulled my face into the carpet.  I felt his breath against my ear as he leaned in close, his hand still clenched in my hair, sending tendrils of pain through my scalp.

 

"Stay like this, you sexy little slut.  Head down and ass up."

 

I sensed that he stood, and I imagined him standing over me, looking down at my body, the side of my face against the carpet, my palms flat on the floor, my breasts partially flattened as I my ass thrust into the air, my knees wide apart, almost beside my head.  I was breathing hard, an overwhelming need to be used flowing through my body.  I was an offering to him, a sacrifice, a piece of meat for him to do with as he pleased.

 

I felt him kneel at my ass, his hands sliding my skirt up and around my waist, my body shuddering at his touch.  Then his hands were at my hips, rolling down my underwear.

 

"No more underwear when you come over.  Rape-toys don't wear underwear."

 

His words and touch scalded me, my underwear cutting into my thighs, his fingers driving hard into my exposed cunt, my body rocking forward, a grunt torn from my throat as pleasure flooded through me.  He worked his fingers in and out of my sopping cunt, my hips gyrating wildly, animalistic cries coming from me as I approached the bliss of orgasm.  Oh god it was so good.

 

Then it stopped, and his hands were at my hips again, and I moaned, a deep moan of need as I felt his cock press against my cunt.  It slid in, stretching me, hurting me, the pain igniting a dark need, and I jerked back against him, impaling myself, craving a hard, deep pounding, a brutal rape of my body.  His fingers dug into my hips, holding me still, completely impaled, quivering on the end of his cock.  I heard him growl, and then I cried out in disappointment as he ripped himself from my body, leaving me empty.

 

I tried to rise up, but his hand found the back of my head again, shoving my face back into the carpet, his weight carrying me down as his body covered mine.  And then I felt his cock, slippery from my own cunt-juice, press up against my ass.  Wonder and fear and a deep, dark excitement flooded through me as he started pushing into my virgin ass.

 

Pain blossomed, burned, took my breath away as his cock slowly, oh so slowly, penetrated my ass.  My body instinctively fought, but I was small and weak and pinned beneath him, and could only lay there as he violated me, as he hurt me.  My cunt throbbed as he pressed his groin against me, flattening my ass-cheeks with his body, his hand pressing hard against my scalp, keeping me in place for his use.

 

He started fucking my ass, a slow, steady withdrawal, sucking at my guts, making me moan, followed by a hard, brutal thrust, slamming his hips forward with all his might, the slapping of his groin against my ass shocking the air with is violence as he spiked his cock deep into my ass, my body rocking forward, my vision going dark as pain flared through my body.  Again and again and again and again and again and oh god I was crying and moaning and shaking and gasping as he brutalized my ass with his cock.

 

With each withdrawal my pussy throbbed, needy, wet, dripping juice down my thighs, the pleasure blotted out by the pain as he slammed back into me.  More pleasure, more pain, until they seemed to swirl together and I started a low keening as something seemed to snap deep within me; it seemed to take forever to come, building in strength as I lay, a helpless fuck-beast, beneath him.  I came, wave after wave of pleasure blasting through me, my toes curling, my fists dug deep in the carpet, my body spasming uncontrollably, buffeted by an unbridled lust that was consuming me.  I never wanted it to end.

 

Afterward, he made me go to the bathroom and get a towel and washbasin to clean him as he reclined in his chair, before taking his cock in my mouth and bringing it back to hardness.  He told me to strip, and he took me out to the garage, where he tied me, bent over a saw-horse, my arms and legs bound apart to the legs of the horse.  He took his time, playing with my cunt and clit with his fingers as he sawed his cock in and out of my ass, making me beg for more, calling me 'his little masochistic fuck-toy', 'his sexy teenaged rape-meat', 'his cute little slut' while telling me that he was going to find new ways to hurt me very night.

 

His words, my begging, the bondage, his fingers pinching and prodding my most sensitive flesh, his cock churning in my ass-chute were a heady mixture that sent me through three orgasms before he finished, dumping his cum into my ass.

 

------------------------------------

 

Frustrated lust clouded her mind as her fingers slid quickly over her reddened, swollen clit, her hips thrusting erotically as she leaned back, supported by her other arm on her ankle, her knees spread, her back arched, her head thrown back, her breathing heavy and ragged.  Her breasts glistened with sweat, her nipples hard with desire.  A small checkered skirt was bunched around her waist, making her look even more like a debauched schoolgirl.  She felt herself grow close, and raised her head, her eyes drawn to the cock of her master, turgid, huge, jutting from his body as he sat feet from her and watched while she performed for him.

 

"Please, master, may your stupid cunt be allowed to cum?"

 

Lust flooded her as she spoke the words, and she slowly ran her fingers up and down her slit, else her orgasm would overwhelm her.  Hope welled up in her when he didn't answer immediately, her fingers picking up now, pressing harder into her tender cunt-flesh, sending waves of pleasure through her young body, her orgasm so near, so near.  She had been kneeling before him for almost an hour as he instructed her on how to pleasure herself for his benefit; how to best show her tits and her stomach, how to roll and thrust her hips, how to run her fingers up and down her slit, highlighting it, before moving back to her clit, how to moan and cry out in pleasure, and especially how to beg to be allowed an orgasm.

 

"No."

 

She moaned, her head falling back, her fingers dancing lightly against her clit, torturing herself with pleasure, tears of frustration burning in her beautiful brown eyes.

 

"Lay back.  Grab your ankles, and keep your knees spread."

 

She trembled in excitement as she obeyed, her heels tucked under her ass, presenting her cunt like an offering.  God she hoped he would take her, use her, anything at all; she needed the release so badly her whole body trembled.  She looked up when she felt something cold press against her mons, seeing her master towering over her, pressing what looked like a cattle prod against her pubic mound.

 

Lust flared in her for an instance before the pain ripped into her, snapping her head back, every muscle in her slender body shaking as voltage pounded into her cunt, a scream of pain rocketing from her throat as her young mind was overwhelmed in agony.

 

Then it was gone, and the lust came back, stronger, more insistent, making her writhe on the ground, her hands locked around her ankles as she muttered 'Oh godohgodohgod' over and over again under her breath.  Her hips thrust blindly into the air as her body mindlessly begged for more.  As the prod touched her tender flesh a second time, an orgasm welled up in her, to be torn away by another blast of voltage, the sound of her own screams seeming to echo in her mind.

 

It stopped, leaving her sweating and panting and trembling with need on the ground.  A third time it touched her, this time digging against her swollen clit, her body arching up against it like it was a lover, her long delayed orgasm building higher and higher as he ground it against her cunt, waiting until her trembling thighs, her curled toes, her clenching hands, her twitching cunt showed him her orgasm, before sending a maelstrom of pain tearing through her body, swirling with the pleasure from her cum until she couldn't distinguish the ecstasy from the agony, until it was all overwhelming sensation, her body cumming again and again in response, her mind blank, her mouth hanging open, her slender form trapped spasming and jerking to his will.

 

He was on top of her, his cock slamming in and out of her throat as she lay spread-eagled on the ground.  Each thrust made her grunt and her body shudder lightly.  She was mostly limp beneath him, spent from her torture, as he gazed down at her pale, teenaged thighs, so firm, so slender, so delectable; her soft, inviting, abused pussy, seemingly made just for him.  He thought of what a beautiful piece of masochistic fuck-meat she was as his cock pulsed deep in her throat, his cum sliding straight into her stomach.

My master wants me to jump ahead to 'more interesting' events; I can come back to describe the rest of my first week with my master later.  Just going back and thinking of it has made me realize how much I've changed, how much the world seemed to have shifted from under me.  I was such an innocent, not seeing what was all around me, what was in me.  Now, I see how men's eyes are drawn to me and my friends, how our bodies, our clothes, our posture, our every movement draws them in, promises them things, dirty, nasty, sexy things.  I feel the maddening lust, the unbridled desire, that lurks just beneath the surface at my school, at the mall, seemingly everywhere I look.  I see how I use it, how Kaley uses it, how all my friends use and are used by this hidden passion, consciously, unconsciously, spawning vortexes of frustrated need around us as we move through the world.

 

It was exactly a month after my master had first taken me, and a week until my freshman year in high school started.  For thirty nights I had been taken, used, abused at his whim.  I had done things, felt things,  I hadn't thought possible.  My body ached all the time, in a dreamy, distant kind of way, as if to remind me every moment of what I had done, and was going to do.  I was beginning to see the world around me differently, see how people reacted to me, how they looked at me, to see the lust in their eyes.  It made me act differently, more shy, more bold; I didn't even realize what I was doing, but Kaley noticed something, and kept pestering me about it.

 

That day we were laying by Mr. Cameron's pool after our morning practice (we were trying out for the Frosh cheerleading squad at our school) and Kaley started quizzing me about it again.

 

"Come on, tell me what's up."

 

"Nothing.  Nothing's up.  Why do you keep pestering me?"

 

"Come on.  You should know by now you can't lie to me.  Just tell me and I'll stop bothering you.  It's not nice to keep secrets from your best friend," she wheedled.

 

"..."

 

"Geez, it's not like I didn't see how you acted around that sales-guy yesterday.  You were practically begging him to jump your bones."

 

I quickly thought back, and realized she was talking about when we had been in Banana looking at tops, and one of the sales-guys had come over to help.  He was good looking, but was at least 20 years old.  Kaley had kept him around and flirted with him a bit; I hadn't said anything.

 

"Now way!  I didn't even speak to him.  You were the one flirting with him."

 

"Sure, but he barely looked at me.  He was too busy checking you out.  Hell, the way you were leading him on I though he was going to jump you right in the store."

 

"I wasn't playing him!  I wasn't doing anything."  I remembered, though, how he had looked at me, and how it had made me flush and look at my feet, thoughts of what he might want to do to me, brutal, violent, painful things, flashing through my mind as I stood there and Kaley chatted him up.

 

"Sure, sure.  Whatever."

 

It was quiet for a while before she started in again.

 

"It's just that I've noticed, in the past few weeks, that every guy we've come across looks at you like your a nice, juicy steak."

 

"Jealous much?"

 

"Bullshit.  You don't have some secret boyfriend you're not telling me about, do you?"

 

"No!  You're with me practically every day all day.  When would I have time?"

 

"Nobody's, you know, taking advantage of you, in that way, are they?"

 

"Come on Kaley.  Nothing is going on.  Please just drop it."

 

She dropped it, but then said, "You're lying.  It's not nice."

 

I could tell that she was mad at me, but there wasn't anything I could do.

 

She went inside to get a drink a bit later, and didn't come out for a while.  I figured that she might be sulking in the kitchen, and was shocked when she came running out of the house and grabbed my arm.

 

"Come on!  Come on!  You've got to see what I've found."

 

She dragged me inside.  I was willing to go along with her, since I didn't want to make her madder, but found her leading me upstairs to Mr. Cameron's bedroom.

 

"Kaley, we aren't supposed to be in here; Mr. Cameron will get mad.  He might even stop letting us use his pool."

 

"Don't be such a baby.  You've got to see this."

 

When she opened the door, my eyes took in the room in one glance; for all the time I had spent over at his house, I had never been upstairs, and never been in his bedroom.  It was a standard bedroom, with a dresser, two nightstands, a closet in the wall with sliding, mirrored doors, and a king-sized bed in the middle of the room.  What shocked me was what was on the bed.

 

Kaley had clearly pulled a storage bin from floor of the closet and lifted it onto the bed.  It was open, and I saw cuffs and belts and a leather hood of some sort, and those were only on the top.  Kaley practically leaped onto the bed, kneeling next to the bin, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement as she dug around among Mr. Cameron's sex toys.

 

"Check this out," she crowed, holding up a leather hood.  It was black, made of soft leather, with a strap covering they eyes and another one going around the back of the head and under the chin.  Another strap went around the neck, with buckles obviously meant to allow the hood to be tightened.  A ringed hole was open where the mouth would be.

 

She tossed it on the bed and pulled out a studded paddle, with holes in it.

 

"Kinky."

 

She dug into the bin again and came up with a pair of cuffs.  Kaley was in heaven, practically bouncing on the bed as she dug through his stuff. 

 

"He's into some nasty games.  I wonder if he likes to be tied up or to do the tying?"

 

"Come on, we shouldn't even be here.  Let's go," I begged.

 

She ignored me, and pulled out a large dildo with balls and all, giggling as she started masturbating it.  "What a dirty old perv.  Now I'm mad at him too.  He won't even look at me and here he's got all this pervy stuff here."  She pouted and looked at me.  "Come here.  Come on, come over here."

 

"Please Kaley, let's leave."

 

"I want to try something first.  Come here."  Butterfly's were running through my stomach as I gave in, like I always do, whenever Kaley really wanted something.  I didn't want to be here, in Mr. Cameron's room.  I was scared that Kaley would find out about us, that Mr. Cameron would be mad and not want me, that he would tell my father, that things would go really, really bad.

 

"Sit down.  Come on, sit down.  Now try this on."  She held out the hood to me and I recoiled.

 

"No!  Let's go!"  I stood up.

 

"I'm staying until you try this on.  Come on, I just want to see what it looks like."

 

I gnawed at my lower lip, knowing that she would, that she would sit there for hours, playing with his stuff, until he came home and found her.  God, I didn't want that. 

 

"Okay, okay."  I sat down on the bed in trepidation while she grinned like a monkey and scooted over to me, the hood in her hands.  It went on easily, a little too large for me.  She quickly tightened the neck strap and I was blind, pads pressing softly against my eyes, any sound muffled by pads against my ears.  My breathing quickened as she tightened the straps around my eyes and the back of my head until I was snuggly cocooned in the hood.

 

It was a weird sensation, to be sitting on a bed in my bathing suit wearing a leather hood, blind, sound muffled.  I felt exposed, and crossed my arms over my bikini top, hiding my breasts, glad I was wearing boy-short bottoms instead of a bikini bottom.  My mind swirled.  I wanted it off; the humiliation of being so exposed, so helpless in the hood made my skin burn, and I was terrified that Kaley would see what it was doing to me.

 

"God Amy, if I didn't know it was you under there, I would have no idea."

 

"Can I take it off now, please?"  I don't know why I asked.  I could have taken it off myself without help.  It had just always been that way with Kaley.

 

"Just wait a second.  One second."  I heard her move around, digging through the bin, and then I felt her at my neck, and heard a click.  "There we go."

 

"What did you do?"

 

"Oh, I just attached a leash to the strap around your neck.  It clips right under your chin."

 

"I'm done," I said, and reached up to take off the hood.  What happened next happened so fast I was stunned.  A sharp jerk on the leash unbalanced me, dragging me onto my hands and knees onto the floor.  Then it felt like she had stepped on the leash near my head because my face was yanked hard by the neck onto the floor, the rest of my body flattening in sympathy, leaving me laying on my stomach on the ground.

 

I started to struggle when I felt her straddling my lower back and grab at my right wrist.

 

"Kaley!  What the...OWWW!" I yelled as she twisted my arm behind my back and I felt familiar sensation of my wrist being circled by a cuff.

 

"Stop it!  What are you doing!?" I shrieked as she grabbed me by my other wrist as I twisted and struggled on the ground beneath her, trying to buck her off of me.  She was small, but Kaley was strong, and easily bound my other wrist.

 

There I was, a hood covering my head, my hands bound behind my back, my best friend, in her one-piece swim suit, straddling my lower back.  I had stopped fighting when my other wrist had been captured, and just lay there for a minute, my mind in a whirl.

 

"What are you doing?" I asked, my body registering every sensation it was undergoing.  My breasts pillowed under me, pressed hard against the hardwood of the bedroom; Kaley's thighs were warm against my sides, her weight heavy on my back; my wrists encased in soft leather, pinned against my back.  My heart raced at my helplessness, my near nudity, my complete physical domination by my best friend.

 

I felt her shift on top of me, and then she was speaking.  Her voice was hard, angry, hurt.

 

"You are going to tell me exactly what you are hiding from me.  I'm not kidding, Amy, you had better tell me right now."

 

"You freak!" I screamed, my voice shaking both with anger, fear, and a deep, dark lust I was trying to hide.  "Get off of me!"  I started struggling, writhing and bucking on the ground, trying to stand.

 

I felt her shift on top of me again, and then she was straddling my back backwards, with her head toward my feet.  Pain exploded through my ass and a sharp retort echoed through the room.  I screamed, and she beat my ass with something hard again and again, my body bucking and writhing beneath her, bruising myself on the hard hardwood floor as I struggled, shock and pain and humiliation and helplessness coursing through my body, dragging unwanted lust from deep within the pit of my stomach, a dark craving that I had to suppress before I began grinding myself against the floor like a bitch in heat.

 

"STOP!  STOP!, I'll tell you!  I'll tell you!"

 

She stopped, and I could hear her panting, and then she was off of me, helping me stand, my legs weak, my breathing heavy, my heart slowly calming.  I could feel her sit me down on the bed and sit down next to me.

 

"Tell me."

 

"Take off the hood first."

 

"Tell me, and then I'll take off the hood."

 

I paused, thinking hard, knowing that I was going to have to tell her something, and deciding to use the cover story that my master had given me.

 

"Ever since you showed me those pictures, you know, the ones with Brooke in them, I've been sneaking over here at night, you know, to use the computer, because mine is watched."

 

"And," she prodded me.

 

I swallowed audibly, "and, well, I've looked around the web for, you know, dirty stuff."

 

"You mean porn?"

 

"..."

 

"Porn?"

 

"Yes, porn.  And stories.  Nasty porn and stories.  And I touch myself, you know, to make myself feel good."  I was burning in humiliation and embarrassment underneath the hood, the pain in my ass still sending tendrils of lust through my body.

 

Kaley started laughing, and I was mortified.  I felt her move around and she was removing the hood and uncuffing me, saying, "You silly little twit!  That's your big, embarrassing secret!  That you wouldn't tell your best friend!  That you look at porn and frig yourself!  Jeez, you are so cute I could just eat you up!"

 

She was laughing and smiling and her eyes were ablaze with humor as she buzzed around the room putting all of Mr. Cameron's toys back while I sat there and watched her as if seeing her for the first time.

 

"I can't believe you were willing to risk our friendship over something so stupid."

 

"It wasn't stupid," I insisted, "and it wasn't any of your business."

 

She whirled on my, eyes hard, "Bullshit.  Here you are, acting all different, keeping secrets from me.  It hurt.  My best friend cutting me out of her life.  It really hurt, Amy."

 

"Well, you hurt my ass."

 

"You deserved it.  Now we're even.  Now let's get out of here before Mr. Kinky gets home."

 

I obediently followed her outside, back to the lounges beside the pool, Kaley insisting on my attention, acting as if that bizarre incident had never happened.  I realized then that that was how our relationship had always been:  whenever I had stepped out of line, done something in some way that Kaley didn't approve, Kaley had always jerked me back into line, taunting me and teasing me and badgering me until I did what she wanted. 

 

She was sitting across from me, holding my hands, looking at me earnestly.

 

"Come on Amy, it's no big deal.  I mean, I've been doing it since I was ten."  I was shocked, and it showed.  "That's right.  It feels good, so why not?  It's not like I'm hurting anybody, or being a slut or anything.  Just me and my porn and my fingers."  She grinned at me.

 

"You never told me."

 

"I never thought you would care.  I mean, you were always little miss innocent, even when all the boys would drool over you."

 

"They did not."

 

"Oh come on Amy.  Remember Tommy in seventh grade?  What do you think he was up to?  All he wanted was to get into your pants.  And Mike, and Jim?  And you were so clueless, and trusting.  If it weren't for me watching out for you you would have ended up like Becky, being passed all over the school."

 

"..."

 

"So, I figured that you didn't have any interest in any of that stuff, so I didn't tell you.  I figured that if you did have an interest, you would talk to me, your best friend, about it."

 

God, she was right about school.  I had never really thought about it before, had never thought of myself as especially desirable, but there had been a lot of boys circling around me, but there had always been Kaley, acid-tongued, quick-witted, tomboyish Kaley there to make them all look like fools, embarrassing them, keeping them away from me.  But Kaley, my Kaley, looking at porn and masturbating?  I was shocked, even though, in my situation, I knew I shouldn't be.

 

"Amy, I tell you what.  Why don't we have a sleepover tomorrow night at my place and I'll show you my stash?  It'll be fun.  We'll play truth or dare, and then we'll learn all of each others secrets."

Her muscles screamed in agony as voltage pounded directly into her, the metal cock sending wave after crashing wave of pain straight into her tender, teenaged cunt.  Sweat flew from her body, her back arching as she shook and strained against her bondage, her breasts stretching out into sharp, fleshy cones, blood dripping from nipples caught in strong, remorseless clamps. 

 

She was mounted on a metal horse, v-shaped (cutouts in the metal just below the peak allowing for attachments), positioned like a man riding a Japanese racing bike, her knees bent beneath her stomach, straps built into the side of the metal horse encircling her thighs and her calves, holding them in place.  Her arms, pulled cruelly behind her, were strapped at the elbows and wrists and pulled away from her body by a rope around the wrist strap leading up to the rafters.

 

Wires led from the base of the horse to her breasts, locked on to her tender nipples with strong, spring-loaded clamps,  They were stretched taut, pulling her small breasts away from her body.  A metal triangle stretched up from a cutout just below the join in the horse, locked in place by several clamps, at top holding in a single clamp a long, thick soft plastic dildo.  The fake cock disappeared between her soft lips, pressing cruelly against the back of her throat, only her training keeping her from gagging, effectively silencing her screams.

 

The metal cock, eight inches of unforgiving, hollow steel, was placed in a mounting affixed near the end of the horse, angled to accommodate her position, her own weight pressing it painfully against her cervix.  Her ass hung off the end of the horse, as did her feet; her master loved the way her ass shuddered and her feet curled as she writhed in agony in her bondage.

 

The way she was positioned, the way she was bound, left her helpless to keep the weight of her body off of her tortured mons, the soft flesh around her clit bruised and aching, filling her mind with unrelenting agony, broken only by the pounding torture of the electrical shocks her master chose to pour into her cunt.

 

When she had shown up that evening, dressed in a short, pleated skirt and a white, buttoned down top, he had ordered her to strip and had led her to the garage.  Her stomach knotted and a slight sweat broke out on her body when she saw what was awaiting her.

 

He had build her her own horse, an inverted steel V, about four feet long, resting on four wooden posts, designed so that a lever could lift them an inch to engage the wheels next to each post.   Slits had been cut all over the sides of the V, and straps hung from them.  Beneath the tip of the V, all along the length of the horse, the metal had been cut and folded down, leaving a working space just beneath where she would be straddling. 

 

"Oh god," she breathed, her eyes melting as they met his, his smile wolfish, greedy, cruel.

 

He grabbed her by the back of the neck and pushed her to the ground, forcing her onto all fours, forcing her to crawl toward her mount.  He made her stop along the way, at the metal torturer that was going to be buried in her pussy, making her caress it with her mouth; at the twelve inch soft plastic dildo that was going to fill her mouth, making her rub it against her slick, burning cunt, driving it up into herself, gasping at its girth, its length; at the clamps, huge, cruel, that were going to  be crushing and tearing at her tender nipples, making her put them on, shuddering at the awful pain, her thighs slick with her lust; at the straps that were going to be encircling her elbows and her wrists, making her run her tongue along their length, worshiping her own bondage.

 

By the time he had her stand next to her mount, waiting while he affixed the metal cock to the horse, she was trembling in need, her young mind flooded with desire.  His hands were hot on her waist as he lifted her bodily over the horse, she bending her legs to help him as he lowered her onto her metal master. 

 

The top of the V, slightly rounded and polished smooth, pressed into her cunt, making her groan as her weight settled onto her pussy, the V spreading her lips like a lover.  The weight on her cunt was an ache, and she clamped her thighs against the smooth metal of the sides, sliding herself imperceptibly back and forth along the metal, sparks of pleasure twisting up her spine.  He had her hold onto the top of the metal horse as he bent her body forward, sliding her back and lifting her ass up, sliding her onto the metal cock, putting all the weight of her body on her mons and her clit.

 

He bound her arms next, pain spreading through her shoulders and elbows as he tightened the strap brutally, making her moan.  The pressure against her cervix built up, turning to a dull, aching pain, and the weight of her body crushed the flesh protecting her tender clit, sending tendrils of pain into her brain.  Her legs followed, bound tightly to the sides of the horse, and then the dildo, pressed deep into her mouth, almost gagging her.  Her tits were last, pulled taut by wires to the bottom of her mount, restricting her movement even more.

 

Her eyes had focused inward as pain blossomed through her body, a deep, unrelenting ache caused by the bondage and the pressure on her mons, feeding a growing lust that seemed to burn her skin and consume her thoughts.  Almost immediately she had begun writhing, slowly, sensually, within her bonds, trying to relieve the awful, tormenting pressures on her body.

 

His hands on her ass had quickened her breath, her nostrils flaring as she felt him press into her ass, taking her, using her, owning her.  He was brutal, uncaring, craving only his own release, driving into her ass mercilessly, slamming her slender body down hard against her unyielding mount, tearing deep, pained grunts from deep within her chest.  She had cum twice before he spent within her, the pain in her body amplifying the ecstasy of her orgasms, bringing tears to her eyes.

 

That had been over an hour ago.  Since then he had settled down, his lust blunted, in a comfortable chair where he could watch the torment of his young, sexy masochist.  He had yet to find her limits, had yet to find that place where pain was only pain, and pleasure was out of reach; he regretted the need for secrecy, for keeping her (mostly) free of marks and scars.  Oh, when she turned eighteen, the things he could do to her. 

 

He watched as she writhed on her mount, the agony of her bondage growing, occasionally switching on the voltage in the metal dildo, delighting in her bucking, her screaming, the way her young naked body twisted and shook in its bondage.  Each time he thought she had had enough, that she had reached her limit, he had stood and slowly caressed her body, running his hands gently down her back, tickling her sides, across the sides of her breasts; pressing hard against her thighs, her calves, and gently across her ass.  And each time, the moaning of her agony had altered, and her hips had quickened their sensual dance of pain, and he watched in awe as her body trembled in orgasm, her toes curling, her ass and thighs clenching, the tendons standing out on her neck.

 

He checked his watch--1:30 am.  He sighed.  He wanted to keep her here all night, to see how long it took the horse to break her, but he had already kept her too long.

 

She whimpered when she felt his hands on her body, unstrapping her, freeing her from her tormenting bondage.  Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, her face streaked with dried tears, small, animalistic noises coming from her throat as he lifted her exhausted body off of the horse and laid her on a mat in the garage.  She was so grateful, so grateful to him that it was over, that her torture was over, but a part of her wished it had gone on and on and on, and that those brutal, terrifying orgasms that her helplessness, her hopelessness, and her pain had pulled from her would never end.

 

Then she felt him cover her, his mouth finding her lips, his tongue stifling a whimper as his cock pressed against her cunt.  Emotions swirled through her mind as she lifted her legs, crossing her ankles behind his back, her arms pulling at his sides, pulling his body into hers, her tongue meeting his.  Feelings, feeling need, needed, desire, desired, lust, lusted after, owned, love, engulfed her as her cunt engulfed him, pain making her cry out even as she orgasmed around him.

 

He rode her, whimpering, crying, grunting, through two more orgasms before dumping his cum into her belly.

That night I told my master all about what had happened with Kaley.  He seemed only slightly interested, but only used my mouth and throat that night, forbidding me from cumming.  It drove me crazy when he did that; I could barely think the next day, my mind obsessed with desire, everything reminding me of what my body needed, craved.  When I left, he gave me explicit instructions, my stomach knotting as he spoke.

 

The next evening I was over at Kaleys for the night.  Her parents were gone as usual, and we were sitting in our pjs (panties and long t-shirts) in front of the TV gossiping about the day's cheerleading practice.  All of a sudden she switched gears.

 

"Come on, let's go up to my room.  I want to show you my stash."

 

We ran upstairs and we sat in front of her computer.  I waited while she typed some stuff in, chattering about how she had everything encrypted so that if her parents got suspicious they wouldn't find anything.  Then she pulled up a program and started scrolling through her 'stash'.

 

"You see, I've got over a thousand gigs of stuff, so I archive my old stuff on DVDs.  The newest stuff, and my favorite stuff, I keep around.  I've organized everything:  I've got my photos here, my dirty comics and drawings here, my porno movies here, and lastly my porno cartoons here."

 

She was sitting cross legged in her chair, fully focussed on the screen, where I saw thumbnail after thumbnail of women bound, women bound and being fucked, and women bound and being tortured.

 

"See, this is my photo stuff."

 

"Geez, Kaley.  It's all bondage stuff."

 

"Hey, don't judge."  She glanced at me quickly, and I realized she was a little embarrassed.  "It's just that they look so sexy like that, you know?  Like they aren't really even women anymore.  Just flesh, you know, to be used?  See, like this."  She pulled up a picture of an asian woman, her knees pulled underneath her, her arms bound to her ankles, a collar around her neck, her back curved in her bondage.

 

"It's like she's being presented as a package.  God, it's so sexy.  And look at this one."  She scrolled through a few more, and I caught flashes of women in strict bondage, until she stopped at one where this beautiful blond was bound on her back, forearms to calves, her knees bent, while a man had lifted her up by her hips and was driving his cock into her.

 

She was talking quickly now, almost breathless, looking to me every now and then to gauge my reaction.

 

"I've also got a lot comics.  Did you know the Japanese do all kinds of really dirty comics?  I've got a bunch of translated stuff here."  She pulled up a comic of this woman in a bikini being defeated in battle and dragged into a dungeon.  "This is my favorite right now.  The art is great, and see how they break her?  Forcing her to cum before they rape her?  And then making her cum while they rape her.  See, at the end, how she's completely submissive?"

 

I saw, and I squirmed in my seat, my nipples hardening as she kept up her quick patter, gazing at the pictures on the screen while she explained them to me.  I was shocked.  This was Kaley, my best friend. 

 

"I even have some great movies.  Check this out."  She launched her movie player and leaned back.  I watched, riveted, as the title, 'Rough Sex', came up, followed by a pretty black-haired girl sitting on a couch talking about how much of a slut she was, and how she was a piece of shit, and how she wanted to be treated like a piece of shit.  Then the action really started, and we say a good-looking buff guy start slapping her around, grabbing her by the throat with both hands and fucking her face.

 

We both watched the movie, over twenty minutes of it, in silence.  When it was over, I was breathing hard, my body warm, my mind swimming.  We looked at each other and Kaley smiled.  "Hot, huh?"

 

I nodded.

 

"Come on," she said, pushing her chair away from the computer and pulling mine in front of it, "show me what you like to look at."

 

"It's not much, really, just a few sites."

 

"Show me."

 

I pulled up a story site, specializing in bdsm; and then another, also specializing in bdsm, and then I went to front of a pay site of women being given forced orgasms.  As I pulled up each site, I saw Kaley nodding.

 

"Yah, I keep up to date with that site.  And that one.  And I wish I could get into that one, but its pay only."  She looked over at me slyly, "Huh.  It looks like sweet, innocent little Amy likes her kink too."

 

I blushed, and she laughed and spun in her chair.

 

"Truth or dare!" she exclaimed, looking at me expectantly.

 

"Truth."

 

"What's your favorite story?  And you have to describe it."

 

I looked down.  My master had picked one for me, and made me read it while he had slowly fucked my ass.  It was a story about a runaway girl who was brutally used, and then sold, by a procurer of girls.  It was written by somebody called MarkEDassad (http://www.asstr.org/~pervman/newsite/stories/stories/C001/ChickenHawk1_Karen.htm).

 

As I described the story, Kaley's eyes lost focus, and I noticed her breathing quicken.  When I finished, she said,

 

"That was hot.  Your turn."

 

"Truth or dare," I asked.

 

"Truth."

 

"Do you use any, um, aids, when you, you know, play with yourself?"

 

Kaley looked at me, and jumped out of her chair over to her nightstand.  She grabbed a strange looking tripod device (http://www.sharperimage.com/us/en/catalog/product/sku__HF500) and pressed a button on it, dropping the vibrating thing in my lap before sitting down again.

 

"Usually I just use my fingers, but sometimes I use that.  It's intense."

 

I held the vibrating thing in my hands, acutely aware of Kaley across from me.

 

"Truth or dare," she challenged.

 

"Truth."

 

"What is your deepest, darkest, fantasy."  She looked at me intently.  My skin felt hot, and I looked away from her, embarrassed.

 

"Brooke."

 

"What?"

 

"Brooke.  You know, to be like Brooke."

 

"You mean...?"

 

"MmmHu."

 

"Damn.  That's intense.  Really?"  I just nodded.  "Damn," she said again.

 

"Your turn," she prompted when I remained silent.

 

"Truth or Dare."

 

"Truth."

 

"You don't think I'm a freak, do you?"

 

"No!  Well, sure.  But look at me.  I'm a freak too.  I've got a porn stash that some of the perv boys at school would be proud of, and mine is kink.  I know it's not normal, but I'm not hurting anyone, and neither are you."  I didn't respond, but relief flooded me.  Kaley had been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and I didn't want her to think less of me.  I realized, though, that tonight was going to change our relationship; I was just hoping that some things would remain the same.

 

"And besides," she continued, "my deepest, darkest fantasy isn't exactly normal either."  I looked up to see her looking down.  "Usually, I get involved with an older man, and find out that he's actually works for a slaver organization, training beautiful women.  He takes me under his wing and teaches me the trade, you know, turning these women into mindless sex-beasts.  Stupid, huh?"

 

When she looked back up, I shook my head, and she smiled shyly.  "Truth or Dare," she said.

 

"Truth."

 

"Yesterday, when you had that hood on and I was swatting your ass, did that turn you on?"  I blushed red, remembering it, the helplessness, the humiliation, and my breathing quickened.  I looked into her eyes.

 

"Yes.  God yes."  She moved so quickly I didn't react until she was straddling me on the chair, her slender body pressed against mine, her hands in my hair, hard, insistent, tilting my head back, her lips clumsily on mine.  Her lips were soft, her tongue inexperienced; I opened my mouth, accepting her passion, the heat from her body radiating lust into me, sending tingles down my spine.

 

When she broke the kiss we were both panting.  "Me too.  Oh, at that moment the things I wanted to do," and then her mouth was back on mine, my hands sliding under her shirt, her skin soft and hot under my palms.  She ground her groin down into me, gasping into my mouth.

 

After what seemed forever I broke the kiss and breathlessly said, "The bag.  My bag.  The outer pocket," I insisted.  She looked into my eyes, and I saw her lust, a clear-eyed, demanding beast, making her hands and body tremble against mine.  She got out of the chair and went directly to my bag while I watched, too overwhelmed to move, my own body trembling with desire.  God, it was so different with Kaley than with my master, both more and less.

 

When she opened the outer pocket to my bag and looked inside, she smiled up at me, "You kinky little slut," the words from my best friend jarring me, lust flooding me, melting me as she pulled out the hood she had used on me yesterday,  the leash already attached, followed by the cuffs and the dildo she had been playing with, setting each one on the bed, a predatory gleam in her eye as she looked at me again.

 

"Come here."  It was a command.  It was Kaley.  I went.

 

"Kneel."  She took my arm and guided me down, so that I knelt before her while she sat on her bed.  Her hands were trembling as she leaned close, her breath hot on my neck as she reached down and pulled my t-shirt over my head as I helped.  A spasm of lust shuddered through me at what I was doing, kneeling almost naked in front of my best friend.

 

Kaley was just looking at me, her hands resting on my shoulders, her eyes devouring me.  Then she slid one hand to my breast, her eyes locking on mine, and her fingers found my nipple, hardened with lust.  She started squeezing, her other hand tight on my shoulder, her eyes boring into mine.  I gasped at the pain, a long, moaning, 'Aaaaahhhhh' escaping me as she twisted my tender flesh, need flashing through me.  I saw lust flair in her eyes at my response, and she quickly released me, leaving me panting, as she fumbled with the hood.

 

After she put the hood and cuffs on, pinning my arms behind my back, she had me kneel on the bed, face pressed into the sheets, my breast hanging below me, my ass, still covered by my panties, presented to her.  I waited in the dark, the frustrated need of last night seeming to heighten my lust, my body trembling in anticipation.

 

I yelping in pain as a belt or strap struck my upraised ass; and then again, and again, until I was moaning and writhing in pain on the bed, struggling to keep my hips up as I jerked under the onslaught, the pain touching a craving deep inside me.  Oh god, I wanted her to touch me, to give me release.  It seemed to go on forever, until tears were streaking my cheeks and I was sobbing, both in pain and need.  Then I heard her voice, strained and panting.

 

"Roll over."

 

So I did, pain making me moan, the humiliation and helplessness of being blind and bound making me thrust my hips up, begging for her to make me cum.  I think I shouting in shock when the strap came down on my breasts, tearing at my tender nipples, pain flaring across my chest.  I rolled back and forth, yelling with every blow on my breasts, thrusting my chest out between strikes.  I thought that if she beat me just a bit more, a bit harder, I could cum.

 

It stopped, and I could hear her panting even through the muffling hood, and then she was at my thighs, pulling down my panties even as I humped my hips up at her, spreading my legs as my panties came off.  I felt a pressure at my cunt, and then I felt the dildo slide up into my slick channel, thudding hard against my cervix, the fake balls spreading my ass-cheeks, making me gasp, bringing me oh so close.

 

"Oh godohgod," I moaned, and then groaned in disappointment when I felt her move away from my cunt.

 

"Me first," she growled, her voice husky and strained, and then her hands encircled my head, pulling my head onto her cunt, grinding it against the mouth opening of the hood.

 

"Use your tongue.  Use your fucking tongue!" she practically shouted as she shook my head, and I stuck out my tongue as far as I could, feeling and tasting something wet and acerbic as she moaned on top of me.  She screamed out as her orgasm shook her, her thighs shaking and clenching around my face as she came and came. 

 

There was a pause, and then I felt her shifting, and felt her fingers at the base of the dildo, drawing it out, and then shoving it back in.  My breathing quickened and I spread my legs even further, begging for it with my body.  Her thumb found my clit, and an electric shock flashed through me; I came, hard, my hips trembling in the air as my body shook with the strength of it.

 

She kept rubbing, and I moaned as I came down from my orgasm, my body trembling.  I grunted, jerking my hips; she didn't stop--she kept rubbing my clit, hyper-sensitive from my cum, the sensations overwhelming.  I rolled my hips, trying to dislodge her fingers from my clit, panting with effort, my mind screaming with the intense sensations flooding my body. 

 

"Stop!  Stop!  Stop!  No more!"  I cried out, but she used her forearms to pin my thighs, her weight on my legs holding me down, both her hands now at my clit, tormenting me with the intensity of it.  Then I screamed and jerked and came again, her fingers digging into my flesh.

 

Then her mouth was on me, sucking my clit into her mouth, gnawing on the flesh around it, animalistic noises coming from deep in my chest as I writhed on the bed, twisting and bucking to escape.  Her tongue dug into my swollen nub, rasping against it, and I arched and screamed and came again. 

 

She kept sucking, as if trying to devour my sex, her tongue stabbing and crushing the soft flesh of my pussy, her teeth biting at me as I bucked like a wild beast, the bed shaking and rocking as I tried to push her off of me.  I jerked my hips to the side, and felt my flesh slip through her teeth, until they clamped around my clit, hard and brutal, tearing at the over-sensitive bud as my jerking ripped it from her mouth, threw her to the side, feeling as if she had ripped it from me, my body flopping like a fish as another orgasm overwhelmed me, leaving me panting and gasping on my back on the bed, Kaley laying beside me, her breathing heavy.

 

Dazed, I lay there, sensing Kaley shift on the bed, and then I felt a tug on the leash, and groaned.  When her voice came I could tell she was close.

 

"How many times, slut?  How many times did you come?"

 

I shuddered at the words, at the way she said them, lust flaring back into my spent body.

 

"Four.  Four times.  I came four times."

 

"Greedy pig.  I only came once.  That means you owe me three cums."  With that, she pulled me up by the leash and positioned me, my legs still weak from my ordeal.

 

"Kneel, slut."

 

I knelt, my knees apart, responding to the direction of her hands.  Then I felt her thighs against my face, and a hand behind my head.

 

"Lick me, and don't stop until I've cum three times."

 

I stretched my tongue out as my hooded mouth was forced against her cunt, searching out her clit, making her gasp as I lapped at her tender fleshy bud.  Sounds came on, and I realized she was watching one of her porno films on her computer.

 

My world became the sensation of my tongue against her flesh, my jaw aching, the sounds of the porno, sharp cries and moans and hard, dirty words mixing with the moaning of my friend as I pleasured her.  By the time she pulled my head hard against her cunt for the third time, her thighs shaking, a soft cry coming from her lips, the movie had ended, and my jaw was sore, exhausted, my tongue numb; but as exhausted as I was, lust thrummed through my body at being used like this, like a thing to give pleasure, my spread thighs slick with slippery cunt-juice.

 

"Oh, that was good, that was very good.  I think you deserve a reward.  Stay there."

 

I heard her leave, and I waited, my heart pounding, my mouth dry, blind, bound, and helpless.  It seemed like forever until she returned.  Her hand squeezed my breast, and I yelped as I felt my nipple crushed, I found out later by two medium sized binder clips (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Binder_clip).  It ached, and my other nipple joined it as she attached a clip to it also.  I felt a tugging at my nipples and groaned as she pulled me up by my nipples.

 

I staggered, my breasts distended as she gave them sharp jerks (she had obviously attached them to some type of string or wire, and was yanking on them), sending sharp pain through my sensitive nipples.  She led me downstairs, a hand on my shoulder to prevent a misstep, all the time drawing sharp hisses from me by pulling on my tortured nippled.  When I felt tile under my feet, I realized I was in the kitchen.

 

I stood there, shifting my weight between my feet, as she dropped her hold on my breasts and moved about the kitchen.  Anticipation gnawed at my stomach, my nipples throbbing in time with my beating heart, as I waited, wondering what perversion she had in store for me next.

 

"Spread your legs.  Good.  Like that.  Now bend at the waist.  Further," she guided me until I was bent at a ninety degree angle, my legs spread, my ass in the air.  I felt a straw at my lips and sucked gratefully at a juice box she had placed under my head.  I figured she must have me bending of the counter, since she wasn't holding the juice.  Instead, she was at my ass, her hands hot against my flesh.

 

I rotated my hips as I felt her fingers slide against my cunt, and then she began to push something into me.  My thighs shuddered as I felt something rough slid into my slick channel.  I clenched my cunt, delicious sensations scraping along my inner flesh as Kaley slid the cock-like object into me (I found out in the morning she had used a zucchini).  My breath quickened as her palm ground against my cunt, the thing deep inside me, and I pushed my hips back against her, greedy for her touch.

 

She kept her hand there, massaging the soft flesh of my pussy, making me shake with need.  Then I felt something press against my anus, and gasped as she pushed the dildo past my tight sphincter, a wave of pleasure washing over me.  I could feel every inch as it slid in, fighting for space with the phallus in my cunt, until I felt the fake balls pressing against my perineum.

 

I felt her grasp my cuffs, and realized she was tying something around the short chain than bound my wrists together.  My mind raced and I twisted my hands to get a feel of it, but she slapped them away and had me stand, bound and stuffed with fake cock.  I felt her thread something through the loop on my neck where my leash was attached, and hunched when I felt her pull it tight, a coarse, thin rope digging into my crotch, feeling like sandpaper as it pulled against my mound.

 

I moaned in discomfort as Kaley tied off my new bondage, changing to moans as her fingers reached down to my cunt and spread my lips, letting the rope nestle against the soft inner flesh of my slit, coarse against my swollen, throbbing clit.

 

"Come on, slut.  Let's go for a walk."

 

With that, she grabbed the rope and began pulling me along, dragging me around her home.  Pain radiated from my crotch as I wobbled after her, the fake cocks buried in my pussy and ass churning my insides like butter, washing my guts in an eerie sensation of fullness, the rope rough against my tender cunt-flesh, each step seeming to shred the soft flesh, pain radiating from my cunt up my spine, intense, unbearable, soft, panting cries coming from my throat as Kaley pulled me along.

 

With each step the pain grew, the intensity of sensation rubbing my flesh raw, bloodying my sensitive clit, making my mind spin, lust boiling up in me, desire for more pain, more abuse, flooding me as I staggered, the rope pulled violently from Kaley's hold as I fell to my knees, the last jerk sending me crashing though a powerful orgasm, my mind seeming to splinter as I shuddered on my knees, hunched over, my tits and clit and cunt throbbing together in pleasure, grunting through the oh so wonderful and horrible cum.

 

When it had left me panting, still bound, still hooded, on my knees, Kaley grabbed the rope again and lifted me to my feet, the rope digging painfully into my crotch, pressing the fake cocks deeper into my cunt and ass.

 

"Greedy slut," was all she said before continuing our walkabout.

 

Neither of us slept at all that night.  Kaley seemed to want to drive me crazy with orgasms, as if it were her job to make me cum in the most horrible ways she could imagine until I was a mindless mass of girl-flesh.  There was the crotch-rope, the belt, more binding clips, a beater, hot pepper oil, more zucchinis, and always the hood and her fingers and her nails and her insatiable lust, her endless wonder at my body and my own lust, making me lick and suck her nipples, her cunt, her ass, her toes, her fingers, her own pleasure seeming driven by my craving for abuse.

 

By morning, we were both exhausted and spent, and my cunt was unbelievably sore, a mass of swollen, aching flesh.  As if by common consent, she unbound me and our tryst was over; we were just Kaley and Amy, friends, not kinky, dirty lesbo sluts.

Kaley released a long, low moan as she pushed her hips forward, driving the strap-on slowly into her friend's ass, her body quivering with sadistic lust as she watched Amy's sphincter stretch tight around the fake cock, pressure against her own clit sending waves of pleasure crawling up her spine.  Amy was bound hunched over an ottoman, ankles and wrists bound to its feet, her knees bent awkwardly, her ass jutting out, primed for abuse.

 

Amy whimpered at the slow, brutal penetration of her ass, the strap-on thicker than anything that she had experienced before, the stretching, tearing pain in her ass making her cunt spasm involuntarily, a small trickle of liquid down her thigh betraying her excitement.  When she felt Kaley's hips press against her ass-cheeks, her whole body shuddered with lust.  She felt Kaley's hands in her hair, the strap-on angling painful in her ass-chute as Kaley bent over her, yanking her head back, pain in her scalp and neck making her gasp, her nipples painfully hard against the leather of the ottoman.

 

"Beg, slut," Kaley demanded.

 

Lust flooded through Amy's body; she knew what Kaley wanted, needed, to hear.

 

"Please, Mistress Kaley, please rape this slut's ass.  Please hurt this slut.  Oh god, please rape this worthless cunt's asshole."

 

Kaley hissed through clenched teeth as her friend's words hit her, desire making her tremble as she wrapped Amy's hair in her hands and leaned back.   Slowly she slid the strap-on back, reveling in the feeling of power, of domination, it gave her, watching her friend quiver and gasp in bondage as she was used for pleasure.  She watched as her friend's anus gripped the fake cock tightly, like it never wanted to let it go, and then, pulling the makeshift reins of Amy's hair, jerked her hips forward as hard as she could, burying the huge cock in one stroke, tearing a cry of pain and desire from her friend's throat, gasping herself as her lust spiked.

 

Again and again Kaley slammed her hips against her friend's, her heart pounding, her body sweating, her teeth clenched, her body shaking from exertion and lust.  Short, pained cries, soft whimpering and gasping, panting, and the sound of flesh against flesh filled the room.  As Amy grunted and her body shook in orgasm, Kaley growled and sped up, her thrusts more violent, more determined, her own pleasure, her own lust, driving away fatigue.  She rode her friend through another orgasm, Amy's thighs slick with her spend, and stopped her pounding, grinding her own hips against her friend's firm ass.  She leaned forward and reached around to Amy's face, sliding her fingers into Amy's mouth, curling them inside her cheeks, controlling her, dominating her, her body covering hers.

 

"You greedy," she gasped, her own orgasm taking her, "slutty," making her shake, her toes curling, her fingers tearing at the soft lining of her friends mouth, "little cunt!" she shouted, ecstasy blurring her vision as she came.

 

Amy screamed as the thin dowel whipped down onto her exposed slit, smashing into the tender flesh of her clit and cunt, pain rocketing through her body, a thin spray of mist rising up from the blow revealing her arousal.  She was bound in a laz-e-boy chair, slouched down, her legs hanging over the arms of the chair, ankles bound to the front feet of the chair by lengths of rope attached to leather cuffs.  Her arms were lifted, bound over her head, a rope connecting the cuffs on her wrists to the back legs of the chair.  Her cunt, swollen, twitching in pain, was exposed to her friend's sadism.

 

Her breasts heaved as tears of agony ran down her face, another blow on her helpless slit tearing a scream from her, making her buck in her bonds, her hips gyrating madly, her thighs quivering and shaking, her stomach clenching and unclenching as her friend beat her mercilessly. 

 

Kaley brought the dowel down again, Amy's screams sending shudders of lust down her spine, her fingers digging into her own cunt, sliding along her swollen clit; each blow, each scream, each bucking, thrashing response from her friend sent her over the edge, each orgasm crashing down on her, making her knees weak, her hands shake, her body jerk forward as she grunted in ecstasy.  At the sixth blow she collapsed to her knees, gasping, her mind swirling with lust, and crawled over to her friend, driving three fingers brutally into her exposed, tortured hole, her other hand reaching for Amy's clit, squeezing it, pinching it, digging her nails into the slippery, swollen bud.

 

Amy howled, her whole body arching, her cunt clamping down on the torturing fingers scratching and twisting in her tender hole, her thighs shaking as her mind screamed in a pain-induced orgasm, the horrible agony radiating from her clit and cunt transforming into a horrible, unbearable pleasure that seemed to stop time.

 

And then it was over, and she was gasping and mewling and whimpering and spent as she felt Kaley tear her fingers from her body and climb up on the chair, shoving her cunt in her face, her hands insistently gripping the sides of her head, her hips rocking, sliding her dripping slit across her friend's face, demanding a last bit of pleasure before releasing her slut.

 

------------------------------------

 

I told my Master all about what had happened at Kaley's house the previous night while riding him, bells clipped to my nipples, my arms bound behind me, and my cunt still sore from Kaley's overeager attentions.  He demanded everything, our every action, my every feeling, my every thought.  It took almost forty minutes to tell, and he kept slowing my down, adjusting my motions, telling me to keep him on edge, even as the agony of my abused cunt and the retelling the events that of that night that caused it sent me crashing through orgasm after orgasm, my body shaking atop him as I squeezed my cunt around his cock.  When he finally allowed me to make him cum, his hands gripped my breasts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, bruising it, tearing at it as his hips pressed into mine, sending me exhausted into another orgasm, my mind dulled with lust and pleasure.

 

The rest of the week went on as normal.  Kaley and I didn't get a chance to 'play', as she kept referring to it, together again; we were so just Kaley and Amy, it was strange.  The sexual tension, the sexual need that I felt radiating off me seemed invisible to her and our friends, except, every once in a while, she would look at me with lust in her startling blue eyes, holding a promise of brutal, horrible, perverse things that would send a chill up my spine and quicken my breath.  It didn't help my state of mind that my master was being exceptionally cruel, not letting me cum since the night after Kaley, leaving me each night in trembling need, whining and begging to be allowed release.  Then, being so close to Kaley, to someone I knew wanted me as badly as I wanted her, but being unable to do anything because of friends and parents and practice and preparations for school seemed to conspire to make me mad. 

 

Exactly a week since I had spent the night with Kaley, I stood straining in my master's garage, my legs spread by a spreader, my arms stretched, bound together, over my head, stretching me, forcing my to my toes, my breasts flat against my chest.  I was nude except for a short flared, pleated skirt wrapped around my hips and a blindfold around my head.  He had kept me there for almost ten minutes, until the heat from the lights and the strain of standing on my toes had brought out a slick sheen of sweat to cover my body.  My lips were parted and I was panting lightly, my heart racing with lust as I waited, knowing something special was in store.

 

"Slut."  My master demanded my attention.

 

"Yes sir."

 

"I've been thinking about your friend, Kaley."  A flare of concern and lust and jealousy flared through me; what was he going to do?  Was he going to take her?  Crazy thoughts raced through my mind.  "I think you are doing her a disservice."

 

"I don't understand, sir."

 

"You plan on letting her use your body, correct?"

 

"Yes sir."

 

"How well do you think you are able to pleasure her, slut?"

 

"I don't understand, sir."

 

"You're barely adequate to pleasure a man, and I've been training you for months now."  Shock and desire and fear flooded me at his words:  to be trained, to be nothing more than an animal, a sexual beast, rocked me; the reminder of my place sending chills of lust up my spine; his judgment of my progress, my fear of disappointing him, making my belly hollow with fear.  All those sensations spilled through me and I moaned softly.

 

He continued.

 

"How do you think Kaley feels, to have her own, personal fuck-slut be so inexperienced?  Well, slut?"

 

"I don't know, sir."

 

"Don't you think she deserves better?  Deserves someone whose a bit more experienced in girl-fucking?"

 

"Yes sir."  I knew the answer he wanted, but I didn't know know where he was going with this.

 

"Good.  Then we both agree that you need to be trained to be a good lesbo slut."  There was a pause, and I felt him near me.  "I've asked one of my good friends here to give me a hand.  She should be here any minute."

 

A thrill shot through me at his words; somebody else was going to be here; to use me; to train me; a woman.  Humiliation and fear flooded me; my cunt spasmed; my body burned.

 

"Please sir, please don't, don't let anybody see me, please sir..."

 

I cried out when he slapped me, my head jerking to one side.  I gasped as his hand closed around my neck and squeezed, making my head swim, two fingers of his other hand pressing into my mouth.  I closed my lips, still dizzy with the sudden violence of it, and sucked his fingers, lust making me quiver in reaction.

 

"What are you, you dumb cunt?" he growled.

 

"A rape-toy, sir," I mumbled around his fingers, now thrusting in and out of my mouth, his knuckles bruising my lips, his other hand loosening its grip on my neck.

 

"Do rape-toys get to have opinions?"

 

"No sir."

 

"What to rape-toys get?"

 

"Raped, sir."

 

He pulled his hands off me and slapped me again, leaving me panting with desire, wanting, needing more.  I almost begged him to keep hurting me, but then I hear the doorbell ring, and my stomach flip-flopped.  She was here.

 

I waited, listening, my body and mind burning, shivering in the heat.  The door opened and closed, voices, steps, and then the door to the garage opened again, and I heard the click of high heels on the concrete and I almost came from the sheer mortification of knowing someone else, a stranger, was looking at me, looking at me practically hanging by my wrists, naked, my legs spread wide, knowing what I was, what I was there for.  Oh god.

 

"Jesus H. Christ."  Her voice was soft, low, sending a thrill through me.  "How old is she?"

 

"Thirteen."

 

"Dammit," click-clack, click-clack I heard the heels approach, and I felt her body close to mine, and I shuddered, "This is some dangerous shit here."

 

"Don't worry.  She's addicted.  She can't get enough.  Just check out that cunt of hers, it's leaking like a sieve."

 

I felt a soft touch, and she ran her fingers lightly across my skin, slick with sweat.  I was shaking as she caressed my skin, hanging from my wrists, the ache in my shoulders forgotten as she circled my nipples, hard with lust.

 

"Gorgeous, isn't she?"  It was my master.

 

"She's like cat-nip for lesbians."

 

I hissed as her fingers found my cunt, sliding gently across it, parting my lips, touching my clit.  I bucked against her touch, but she kept it light, teasing me, tormenting me.  Then her body was against mine, her clothes rough on my skin, one arm encircling me, pulling me tight against her as her lips found mine, soft, experienced, thrilling lips.  Her fingers stayed at my clit, squeezing, sliding around the slick bud, bringing me closer and closer.

 

I cried out into her mouth, my head jerking back, as her nails bit into my clit, my hips jerking back and forth, trying to escape even as her other hand gripped my ass hard, holding me in place as she ground my clit between her fingernails.

 

I screamed as the orgasm crashed through my body, tearing at my straining muscles, my body spasming in its bondage as pleasure overwhelmed me, cumming for a stranger, cumming for someone I had never seen, cumming like a true slut.

 

I hung there gasping and hear my master ask, "So you'll train her?"

 

There was a pause, and I heard her breathing, heavy with lust.  "Yes."

 

She grunted hard through her sobs as he drove his cock brutally into her bowels, spearing her ass in a single thrust.  Her whole body shook from her abuse, her hips bruised against the one-foot high bar she was bent over, her knees spread wide, her face pressed hard into the mat as he leaned heavily on her head, his hands tangled in her hair.

 

When she had arrived that night, he had rushed her, slapping her hard across the face, his hand grabbing her hair, dragging her to the couch, throwing her down.  The violence had sent her heart racing, her cunt juicing, goose-pimples rising on her smooth young flesh.  She gasped as he mounted her, brutally yanking her arms behind her back, his strength overpowering.  Her breathing quickened when she felt the sleeve bind her arms, her shoulders aching with the strain.

 

His weight on her back had been oppressive and exciting as he lifted her skirt and started beating her ass with a modified paddle, her ass turning to fire and her throat becoming raw as she screamed as he beat her until his arm tired and her teenaged ass was a reddened mass of flesh.  When he had finished, he tore off her skirt and a knife took care of her top as she panted and gasped in pain, her body trying to adjust.

 

Grabbing her hair, he had dragged her bodily across his floor into the garage, her legs kicking wildly, her lust a burning cauldron underneath her pain, feeding on his abuse.  He had left her lying on a mat in his garage, her mind spinning at the suddenness, the brutality of his attack.  Her need rose up in her, a dark craving for pain and humiliation and abuse, and she clenched her thighs together, the agony in her beaten ass driving her lust higher, her thighs slick with her juices.

 

He had come back with a small bucket wearing latex gloves and straddled her stomach, looking down into the face of a twisted, broken, lusting angel, her brown eyes filled with need, begging him for more.  He dipped into the bucket, coating his fingers in oil, and then rubbed it all over her breasts, thrilling to the way her eyes widened and she began to moan and keen in pain as the chili-oil began to take effect, burning her sensitive nipples, turning the creamy white flesh on her breasts an ugly red.

 

He had turned, his weight keeping her thrashing body pinned beneath him, and, dipping his fingers back into the bucket, began rubbing the oil around the outside of her cunt, matting the sparse pubic hairs, torturing the sensitive flesh of her labia, making sure to rub it hard into her clit.  He had stood, watching her as she moaned and thrashed on the floor, her body writhing in agony, tears filling her eyes, her legs scissoring as she tried to relieve the burning in her cunt; she had flipped over, rubbing her tortured breasts against the mat.  She was such a gorgeous sight, her slender, thirteen-year-old body bound and tortured.

 

The pain had been unbearable; she barely noticed when he dragged her over to the bar, her hips pressed against the bar, her knees on the mat, spread wide, her ass and cunt open for more abuse.  She barely noticed something thin and cold sliding into her cunt from behind until she felt liquid fill her, and she sobbed and cried out as her insides turned to fire.  His cock breaking her ass, his hands holding his weight on her head fogged her mind with pain even more.

 

The agony was unrelenting; her cunt throbbed, her clit burned, her tits were on fire; her body was rocked by his brutal thrusting; her mind consumed with pain, and underneath, a dark, twisted, perverted part of her gloried in the abuse, craved it, needed it.  Slowly through her fog she heard his voice, commanding, adding to her humiliation.

 

"Say it!  Say 'I'm a rape-toy'."

 

"I'm uhh a rape uhh toy," she repeated between her moaning and grunting, the burning in her cunt and clit and tits seeming to spread throughout her body.

 

"I'm a thing to be used..."

 

"I'm athing uhh aggg tobeused..."

 

"and abused..."

 

"Ahhhh uhhgg andabused..."

 

"for the pleasure of others."

 

"forthepleasure uhh ofothers."  She seemed to be on another plane, the agony narrowing, becoming sharper, the words spilling from her as fast as she could say them, the words seeming to drive spikes into her mind.

 

"I'm a fuck-pig..."

 

"Uhhgg I'ma ahh fuck-pig..."

 

"An animal born to be fucked."

 

"Ananimal uhhg ahhhgg born uhh tobefucked."

 

"I'm a cum-dump..."

 

"I'm ahh a cum-dump..."

 

"I'm three holes..."

 

"Ahhgg I'mthreeholes uhh..."

 

"to be filled..."

 

"tobe aahhhgg filled..."

 

"with men's cum."

 

"withmen'scum aahhhhhggg."

 

"I'm a pain-slut."

 

"Ahh I'mapain uhh slut."

 

"Hurt me."

 

"Uhh hurtme."

 

"Beat me."

 

"Ahhh beatmen uhhgg."

 

"Rape me."

 

"Rapeme."

 

"Use me." 

 

"Ahhhggg Useme."  Her whole body shuddered, her stomach churning, the burning in her body flaring, a bizarre pressure building in the base of her skull.

 

"Say it!" he commanded, and, through the fog of her agony and lust she knew what he wanted.

 

"I'marapetoyafuckpigapainslutafuckpigacumdumpusemehurtmerapemeI'mafuckholearapepigusemehurtmebeatmefuckpigrapetoypainslutfuckslutpigrape," she repeated over and over and over, grunting her out between her sobs and cries as he rode her ass brutally, spiking his cock deep into her bowels, slapping her tortured ass, making her scream even as the words burned themselves in her mind, like glowing spikes pinning her, driving into the flesh of her consciousness, possessing her, owning her.

 

It was too much.  Something seemed to break inside her, and the burning, agonizing torture ravaging her body shifted, merged with something else, something dark and twisted and deep inside her, joining together in an unbearable pressure, an unbearable pleasure and she screamed out as her body went rigid, her thighs and stomach shaking, her cunt spasming, her ass clenching, her fingers and toes curling, her mind cleared of everything except the ecstasy overwhelming her as the pressure broke, her orgasm flooding her, her sobs turning to weeping as the pleasure slowly drained from her body, leaving her spent.

 

He had come when her ass had clamped down on him, her body spasming in orgasm, her scream sending a chill of lust and power surging to his groin, making him lose control as he filled her with his cum.

 

He had her wash him and suck him to another orgasm, her young body still burning from the oil; he made her masturbate herself while she swallowed his cock, dragging another orgasm from her spent, abused, teenaged body, all the while the words he had made her say running through her mind, imprinted there.

 

"Fuck-pig.  Rape-toy.  Pain-slut.  Cum-dump.  Use me.  Beat me.  Hurt me.  Rape me."

 

------------------------------------

 

I was humiliated, mortified, and incredibly turned on.  I had just come at the hands of an unknown stranger in front of my master, and a woman at that.  She had agreed to train me.  I could barely wrap my head around it.  It was crazy.

 

"Let's let our little slut see her mistress," she said, her voice sending a shiver through my body as she removed my blindfold.  I blinked at the bright lights, my eyes slowly adjusting, my gaze coming to rest on my new mistress--the idea making me shudder in lust.

 

She was Asian, about 5'5", with a perfect figure.  She was wearing a black miniskirt with black boots and a black bustier, her long black hair accenting her outfit.  Dark red lipstick emphasized her lips, and her eyes were highlighted by expertly applied eye-shadow.  She was gorgeous; she was sexy; she looked just like that actress, Kelly Hu; I was jealous and excited and frightened.

 

Her hand snaked around my back, sliding down my skirt, hot against my ass, as she pulled me against her body, tilting her head down to look into me eyes.  Her lips parted, and her hand on the back of my head guided my lips to hers.  The kiss was soft, demanding, patient, insistent; it sent chills down my spine as I responded submissively, letting her have her way.  She pulled away, holding my gaze.

 

"Not bad, but we'll have to work on teaching you how a woman likes to be kissed."

 

She smiled, and walked over to a bag she had brought and pulled out a belt.  It was a standard leather belt, but with metallic loops on the outside, all the way around.  She came back and cinched it just above my skirt.  My waist, already pulled tight by the bondage, was restricted even more, my breathing coming even shorter.  When she finished she undid my bondage and I fell gratefully to my knees, the ache in my shoulders and arms slowly dissipating.  Two kneepads landed in front of me.

 

"Put those on.  I like my sluts on their knees, and I don't want to mark you up too badly."

 

I looked at her, and at my master, watching us with interest and lust in his eyes, and slid my legs out in front of me to put the pads on.  I could feel her eyes on me, making me hot, as I slid the pads up my legs to cover my knees, my small skirt only seeming to accentuate my nudity, falling gently between my thighs, barely covering my swampy cunt.  When I was finished I saw her reach into her bag again and pull out two of the largest vibrators I had ever seen.

 

I must have gasped, because her head snapped around and she smiled at me, a predatory smile filled with lust and promise.  She walked over to me and dropped them between my legs.

 

"One for your cunt, one for your ass.  Put them in.  Oh, and leave the skirt--I think it looks sexy."

 

Humiliation burned through my, my face turning red.  I looked at her as I took the larger vibrator, the molded plastic cold in my hands.  It must have been twelve inches long, and really, really thick.  I swallowed and leaned back, my legs falling open, my knees pulling back to my chest as I opened myself to be penetrated.

 

I placed the vibrator against my cunt, humiliation flooding me as I began to push it into myself, whimpering in pain at being stretched so much, humiliated at doing this in front of a woman whose name I didn't even know.  I was so wet that it slid in easily; my breathing was now panting, my excitement growing as I penetrated myself until I felt it stop, and I couldn't push it in any further, leaving a good four inches of the monster cock outside my hole.

 

"Keep going, slut," my mistress commanded.

 

I pressed, and whimpered, and pressed some more, but the pain flashing through me every time I pressed dissuaded me.

 

"Move your hands, you dumb cunt," my mistress barked.  "Hold your knees back.  Good, like that."

 

I was on my back, my knees on either side of my breasts, a huge dildo over half-way buried in my cunt, my body totally exposed as she looked down at me.

 

"The first lesson, slave, is that you will obey every single one of my commands.  When I say to put a vibrator in your cunt, you put it in your cunt." 

 

She placed the sole of her boot on the end of the vibrator and began to lean into it, slowly, painfully, forcing it into my body, breaking whatever resistance had blocked it.  Pain flooded my groin, a deep, searing agony made me close my eyes, tears running down my cheeks, my hands gripping the back of my knees painfully.  I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, all I could do was feel as she forced that huge thing deep into me, until I felt the sole of her boot pressing against my cunt-flesh.

 

"That wasn't so bad now, was it slave?"

 

I didn't answer, my groin still aching from the monster vibrator buried in my cunt, the pain clouding my mind.  I gasped when she dug her foot into my cunt.

 

"The second lesson is that you will answer me when I ask you a question."

 

"No mistress, that wasn't so bad," I lied.

 

"Now the one for your ass."

 

The ass vibrator wasn't as big as the one already inside me, making every movement of my lower body painful; it had a flared end and an indentation ring around the base.  I used my mouth, making it slick with my saliva, before sliding it into my ass.  It hurt, but it wasn't as bad as the one already in my cunt.  When I was done, stuffed as never before, I looked up to my mistress for her approval.

 

"Very good.  Now on your knees."  She was holding a thin rope in her hand, a small knot in the middle of it.

 

I struggled to stand, the fake cocks buried inside me churning my insides, every movement sending a dull ache through my pelvis.  I wondered what it would be like to walk around like that, with two huge cocks buried inside me while I was at the mall, or at school; how people would look at me if they knew, what they would want to do to me.  I was shaking with lust by the time I managed to lift myself to my knees, my thighs parted, my hands by my sides.

 

She got down on her knees herself, and her closeness sent a surge of warmth through my body.  She ran her hands over my breasts, teasing my nipples, sending heat through me.  Once she was behind me I felt her tying the cord to a hook on the belt constricting my waist.  Her hands slid under the band on my skirt, sending chills down my spine, and I felt the cord drop to the mat, hooked to the belt.  As she moved to my front, her hands stayed on my thighs, and I could feel them tremble slightly as they brushed the base of the vibrators spearing me.

 

I exhaled hard as she brought the cord up between my thighs, tightening it against my groin, pressing the huge objects further up into my holes; I closed my eyes as she tied the cord off to a hook on the front of the belt, the thin rope sliding between my gaping labia, pressing against my swollen clit, sending a shock of pleasure through my tortured body.

 

When I opened my eyes, I saw her looking at me, and we locked eyes; I saw amusement and lust in them as she reached down to my groin and fiddled with the cord.  My breathing was short and rapid, and I gasped when I felt something slid on top of my clit--she had slid the knot on the cord so that it pressed hard into my throbbing bud.

 

"Perfect," she muttered as she quickly snapped a leather collar with a leash around my neck.  She stood quickly and looked around and, obviously not finding what she was looking for, went into the house.  I waited, kneeling, panting, lusting, starting at my master as he stared back at me.  Oh god I so wanted, needed to be used.

 

My mistress came back, awkwardly lugging a full-length mirror, and put it down in front of me.

 

"Put your hands behind your head.  Now look at yourself, slave.  Tell me what you see."

 

Oh my god, I thought, I was such the little lesbian fuck-pig.  I saw a young girl kneeling on blue mat, white kneepads on her knees.  Her slender thighs were spread, and a short, pleated checkered skirt hid their junction, enticing the gaze to those same thighs.  Above the skirt she was nude, except for a leather belt studded with hooks cinching her waist, clearly impeding her breathing.  A thin cord ran from the hook just below her bellybutton underneath her skirt, clearly binding her most private parts.  Her stomach was flat and hard, her breasts soft and full, wobbling slightly with the short, quick breaths forced on her by the belt.  Her small, pink nipples stood out, hard and seeming to quiver with her every slight movement.  Her neck was circled by a black leather collar, a leash attached to it, indicating that she was owned, controlled, ready to be used. 

 

Her face--oh my god, her face.  I didn't recognize myself.  Her face was a mask of desire and lust and need.  Full lips glistened, slightly parted; a soft, rounded face seemed to glow; small wisps of brown hair had escaped the pony-tail and, wet with perspiration, hung wildly in front of her face.  The eyes, the eyes, big, brown, wide eyes seemed to speak:  innocence, submission, want, and lust all shone from them, making the girl seem both too human and no more than a beast ready to serve.

 

I swallowed.

 

"I see your slave, mistress."

 

"Good answer, slave.  Now, before we continue, rule number three.  You will cum only with my permission.  If you need to cum, ask my permission.  Understand?"

 

"Yes mistress."

 

"Good."  With that she reached into her bag and pulled out two controls which she had taped together, sliders on the front of each device.  She slid both of them up at the same time and I yelped as the vibrators came to life, churning deep inside me, turning my insides to Jello.  I moaned, my hips gyrating as she stopped them at the halfway point, the vibrators vibrating the cord, the knot against my clit sending thrills of pleasure through my body, my motions causing the knot to slid back and forth against my swollen nub.

 

"Nice," I heard my master comment, "wireless?"

 

"Yep, but the range isn't so good."  She turned back to me and picked up my leash.  "Crawl."

 

She started to lead me to the door to the house as I dropped to my hands and knees, my eyes drawn to the mirror to see myself on all fours, bound and being led like an animal to be used.  Desire flared, and as I crawled, the knot against my clit slid back and forth, the vibrators churned around inside me each time I moved my knees forward, their vibrations causing my whole body to thrum, my body throbbing to the quick beat of my heart.  Halfway to the door I stopped, on all fours, my knees apart, my hands apart, my head hanging down as I tried to slow my breathing and my heart.

 

"Mistress...."

 

"Huh?"  She stopped as the leash tightened.

 

"Mistress...please mistress.  Please may your slave cum?"

 

I was desperate to cum.  My body shook in repressed need as I tried to get myself under control, to keep from being overwhelmed by me need.  I felt her kneel before me, her hand possessively caressing my back, feeling my trembling, as her other hand lifted my head by my chin as she looked into my eyes.

 

She held my gaze for a long time, and my humiliation and my excitement grew, and my sight started to turn inward as I started to lose the battle against the lust inside me, my orgasm building deep within me.

 

"No.  You may not cum, slave."

 

She said it abruptly, and quickly turned off the vibrators, leaving my body feeling strangely empty, my orgasm receding, still lurking, but not threatening anymore.  A sharp tug on my leash reminded me that I was to follow her, and she led me inside to kneel in front of my master's easy chair.  She dropped the leash and, asking my master for a pair of cuffs, cuffed my wrists behind my back before sliding off her skirt and underwear.

 

I couldn't take my eyes off of her, she was so sexy.  The way she moved, with such grace, the play of muscles under her skin, her firm, round ass, the sparse line of pubic hair hiding her pussy, the strong, full thighs, all made me want her, want to do what she wanted.

 

"Tonight I'm going to teach you how to property eat pussy."

 

She said it as she positioned herself on the chair, her knees over the arms, her pussy spread wide, its folds damp and dark with lust.  She leaned back, the leash and the vibrator control in her hands, and pulled me close into her.

 

For the next two hours she trained me, guiding me in how to use my mouth to please her:  where and when to use my lips, where and when to use my tongue, where and when to engulf her with my mouth, when to sense when she was close, and when to back off and when to bring her to completion.  Throughout she played with the vibrator control, their vibrations pounding my insides into jelly, making the knot on my clit dance, my degradation at being bound and trained and used feeding my lust, bringing me close to orgasm time and time again.  Each time I would ask, and each time she would deny me, turning down the vibrators, leaving me nearly weeping with frustrated lust.

 

Four times she had me break from my licking and sucking and kissing to lap water from a bowl on the floor like a dog, driving home my humiliation.  Four times she came, hissing as her thighs trembled and her hands gripped my head.  After two hours and her last orgasm she pushed me away and went to the restroom, taking her clothes.

 

When she came back she was dressed, and, looking down at me, still kneeling, my body humming with frustrated desire, gave me my instructions.

 

"I'll be back tomorrow.  You are not to cum.  You may masturbate, but no orgasms.  Do you understand?"

 

"Yes mistress."

 

She turned to my master as he walked her out, leaving me there.

 

"Thanks.  I'm really going to enjoy this."

 

"No problem.  Don't forget me when you want to make one of your sluts prove herself to you."

 

I watched as she left and my master came back to me, wondering at that exchange, finding out later that she and my master had a long standing relationship.  Whenever she had a lover she wanted to humiliate, she would have the girl prove her love by doing more and more disgusting things, one of which was to put up the attentions of a man.  My master would have free reign with the woman, threatening to tell her lover on her if she didn't perform.  In return, my master would do the same with his conquests, passing them to her to use and abuse.

 

At that moment, though, I merely watched as he stripped off his pants and underwear and, grabbing me by the back of my head, slammed his cock deep into my throat and started brutally skull-fucking me.  He came quickly and unbound my arms, leaving me to remove my other bonds and to slide the huge vibrators from my cunt and ass.  I wanted to beg him to make me cum, but knew that he would deny me.

 

As I was leaving, my body still craving release, he stopped me and told me that if Kaley wished to use me, she was allowed, but that I was to convince her to keep me from cumming.  I went home late to a sleepless night tossing and turning on my bed with fantasies of being bound and beaten and raped running through my mind.