A New Life

Snark

Chapter 1

       A woman known as Sarah sat on a simple wooden chair looking at the box.  Gun metal gray; long handles ran the length of each side.  A rounded top with lock holes on each end.  It looked exactly like a coffin; because it was.  It was her coffin.  She had ordered it, it had been delivered. Some else had modified it.  She looked at it as she sat, nude, her beautiful copper hued hair dropping almost to her shoulders; swaying as she glanced back and forth.

       She reflected on its' requirement.  In the few previous years she had deconstructed her life; almost meticulously, certainly after she had realized what she was doing, quite deliberately.  Before her “conversion” she had had only a few men; afterward, hundreds.  Perhaps more.  Perhaps all.  She had learned to enjoy pain, to relish humiliation.  She had acquired an appreciation for the taste of piss, a craving to taste semen.  Men marveled at the tightness of both her holes, quite amazing, really, considering the number and size of cocks and other insertables that had ravaged both orifices.  Women desired her, and had enjoyed her.  Some had savagely abused her; she had enjoyed them all.

       She had crossed many lines, perhaps too many.  She had also crossed too many people.  A few she had seriously pissed off. To some she was a hindrance, a problem.  To a few others a plaything to abuse.  To still others a piece of meat to be devoured.  It became time for the woman known as Sarah to die.

       “I wonder if I will die, too?”  She thought.  “My persona will be dead, but will I join it?  Will they simply transport the coffin to a cemetery and bury it?  That would be the cruelest joke possible.  Or will they transport it to …somewhere? ...as agreed?  And if they do, who will I be?  What will I be?”

       The room wasn't large, just 4 stark white walls, a floor, a ceiling, a door.  She knew that she was being watched.  The cameras were well concealed, but she knew.  She stands her long body and limbs seeming to unfold.  Her large, perfect breasts stood proud, nipples crinkled, the nubs extending what looked like an inch from their dark bases.  Her emerald eyes appeared sad as they swept the length of the interior of her new home.  Firm buttocks clinched revealing dimples on their sides, the not quite hidden pucker twitched.  The movement of her legs telegraphed a slickness between her firm thighs

       “I'm wet?”  The thought at first astonished her.  “Why not?  Everything else arouses me.  Why not my death?” She looked down, the bud of her clit peeking out; red and swollen.  She sighed.  “You were the death of me.  Until the very end.  And beyond.”  She snickered at that thought.

       She stepped into the coffin and lay down.  Three wide, thick steel bars positioned at her ankles, waist and neck stood on end at the hinge side of the box.  Locking manacles on short chains matched each point of confinement.

       “It's for your arrival. They won't be needed for the trip.”  They had said.  Hopefully the bindings were proof that there would be an arrival that would include opening the lid.  Hopefully the next thing she would hear would not be dirt hitting the top.  

       As she fitted the bar and locked the rings around her ankles she remembered her auction.  It was online; anonymous persons somewhere in a different place, perhaps a different planet, certainly a different world, bid and paid a substantial sum for her. Surely that was an indication of her reincarnation?  Or was it just an elaborate hoax at her expense?  The money, if it was real, would repay her financial debts.  The personal ones would be paid when the locks secured the lid.

       The bar for her wrists came down next but she didn't fasten it.  She needed her hands to secure her neck and pull the lid down. Then she would fasten her hands.  Once the lid came down it would trap the bars to complete her restraint.  Only then would the next phase of her death begin.

       She lay in fitted foam covered in satin, the same feel that a corpse would experience, if it could.  She wondered if it would be her last contact as well.  She fumbled in the darkness to secure her wrists.  She had practiced doing it without the coffin but with her eyes closed.  Somehow this was different.  Her hands hadn't trembled before, why did they tremble now?

       The lid was raised perhaps an inch.  A silhouette peered in, features unavailable, 2 reflections from eyes appraising the bindings.  She thought she heard words,

       “Sarah is dead,” before the lid dropped again.  Mechanical sounds from each end signaled the locks being fastened.  Her next life was about to begin.  She hoped.

       A sweet smell came to her nostrils.  A gas.  Anesthesia?  Poison?  Surely not poison.  If they meant for her to die, why go to the trouble?  Just let her suffocate.  Or die of thirst while they pissed on her coffin, her parched lips yearning for just one more taste.  The smell filled her senses; her memories filled her dreams.  Which was memory?  Which was dream?

Chapter 2

       She was on her back, the floor wet around her.  Her hair stank of piss, her mouth was filled with cock.  Her legs were pulled up with her ankles on either side of her head.  Weight pressed her down.  A cock...or something filled her cunt, then her ass.  It was long; too long.  It pushed inside her, filling her, deeper, it couldn't be a cock.  Suddenly she could see; a woman grinned down at her, sharpened teeth revealed, ruby lips that dripped...what?  The woman's hand was sinking into her ass, then her arm. Impossible.  Her shoulder was now pressed against her buttocks, she felt a fingernail scratch the inside of her throat. 

       A loud cackle, almost a screech filled her ears and she was flung into the air, the arm slipping from her ass, her entrails a tether, dangling her upside down over a chasm without bottom; a void dark and sparkling.  A flash and whips caressed her back, her sides, her front.  They struck again, this time not a caress; striking again and again, tearing her flesh, the blood running down onto her face, soaking her hair, dripping into the void.  The whips wrapped around her breasts, tightening, binding them.  The breasts swelled, expanding, 2 purple balloons with grotesque protuberances; what had been nipples now resembled black rosebuds ready to burst.  The whips snatched her upright, dangling now by her chest, the pain flooding through her mind, a familiar pain she had experienced before.  She bounced on the lines, a marionette dancing to an unseen puppeteer, each movement sending glorious spasms to her cunt and asshole.  Would she cum as she did before?

       The whips uncoiled from her breasts and she watched as the balloons shrank and felt the whips wrap around her neck.  She was lowered to a surface were she lay wondering.  The whips became leashes, one suddenly attached to a large Doberman, his penis impossibly huge, red, swollen, dripping.  She felt him on her back, pressing against her.  His prick found her cunt and thrust inside, filling her.  He pumped wildly, her hole stretching to accommodate him, it went on for what seemed to be hours then she was empty but then filled again, her ass now full, the pumping uninterrupted, her cheeks being pounded, her chest squeezed by his forepaws.  His dewclaws, not removed, gouged her sides, then her breasts.  They stabbed her flesh; she felt holes torn open as the claws sank deeper into her breasts. They punctured again, becoming skewers that crossed between each globe.  Suddenly it wasn't her ass that was filled, it was her mouth.  The shaft sank into her throat, cutting off any chance of a breath, the knot swelling behind her teeth, locking the cock completely inside her mouth.  Her eyes bulged as her lungs felt as if they would burst, the cock seemingly sliding deeper into her throat.  She felt it in her chest, felt the tip touch her heart.  A burn began inside her chest, her ears rang.  Her fists were clinched into fists, locked to her sides; her ankles had grown to her thighs.  She tasted only his cock, smelled his musk, felt the wiry hairs of his abdomen pressing her nose and forehead.  Was this truly her death? A dream? A memory?  Darkness enveloped her and she felt the penis evaporate.

       She floated, bobbing; then she began to sink.  She slipped beneath the surface, urine filled her mouth, her nose, her sinuses burned, her lungs burned.  She drank to empty the ocean of piss, more, every swallow burning its way down; eyes covered in yellow, a yellow world surrounded her. She sank seemingly forever.        

       Awareness of...nothingness...Pressure against her lips.  Not smooth, wrinkled.  Seeing through closed eyelids she saw the rounded mounds of two mountains, staring through a narrow pass.  She realized that it was a pair of ass cheeks.  The ass cheeks of a woman.  A giantess? Or had she followed Alice down through the rabbit hole?  The corrugation was a pucker; an anus.  The anus of a prostitute.  She could almost remember the whore's name.  The pucker opened, her lips attached, opening, spreading wide, wider, stretching her mouth painfully open.  Could it open wider?  Would it?  She was wishing it would.  Her mouth was inundated with cum, an ocean filled her mouth, a tidal wave across her tongue.  Johns used condoms, didn't they?  Not in this universe, apparently.  The cum tasted as she recalled, then it changed, the flavor tainted from the other contents of the vessel.  She swallowed, it filled her belly.  The consistency changed, became thicker, lumpier, the original contents now filled her mouth.  Bitter, stringy, pungent smells invaded her nose, it was as if she could hear the taste, growing louder, filling her head.  Her belly grew, then her abdomen; then it wasn't flowing into her mouth, it was flowing into her ass.  An enema of gargantuan proportion, not liquid but paste like concrete, the stones rubbing her asshole; being poured into her gaping hole rather than flowing through a tube. In a moment of clarity she wondered,

        “Is this a dream. Or merely Hell?”  The caustic mixture burned, the rough texture chewed through her anus, her bowel expanding, swelling, bursting in a brilliant flash.  Nothingness returned.

       

Chapter 3

       She slowly became aware that perhaps she was alive.  She could hear herself breathing in a confined space.  Soft fabric rustled against her skin.  ALIVE!  At least so far.  Noises, mechanical noises.  A scraping, turning. She felt but could not see the lid lift from her enclosure.  Unseen hands lifted the bar, raising her head.  The ring around her neck was removed and replaced with another; tighter, more constricting.  Something was tethered to it, perhaps a leash or chain.  Her hands were lifted with the bar, the manacles replaced with hinged cuffs, her hands behind her.  Wide bands encircled her wrists, twisting was difficult, separating impossible.  Her ankles were enclosed within another set of manacles, these with a short hobble chain.  She still couldn't see.  Did the gas leave her blind?  Was this an added punishment? 

       She was lifted from the box and carried upright along what sounded like a passageway.  Her legs were still too weak to support her, the massive hands on either side of her were quite sufficient. There was a pause, more mechanical sounds and a door was flung wide. The glare was blinding, revealing that her eyes did function; now they functioned to deliver pain through her retinas to her brain.  She slammed her eyes shut, tears trickling down her cheeks. 

       When she was able she again opened her eyes, she was being carried down a hall way; it opened into a large chamber.  A glimpse around hinted at opulence, tall windows high on higher walls, paintings, tapestries.  Rich carpets strewn across marble floor. Other women, naked and wearing chains -slaves? - knelt before a throne placed in the center of the room. It rested on a dais, legs long enough to require a footrest.

       The woman seated on the throne was more than regal.  She was magnificent.  Golden blonde hair, blazing blue, almost turquoise eyes. High cheek bones covered with luscious skin of alabaster.  Wide shoulders, long arms connected to hands with long delicate fingers.  Her large breasts were covered, barely, the gown just sufficient to contain them.  A narrow waist above the flare of hips, legs that seemed too long reached to delicate feet wearing 4 inch heels. 

       “Our newest acquisition has joined us.”  A velvet, husky voice spoke.  The woman who had been Sarah blinked at the woman before her.  The hands lowered her to her knees, continuing to support her.  They held her to also constrain her, though that wasn't necessary.

       “This is the first day of the rest of your life.”  The woman continued.  “Whether it is a short or long life depends on me.  Also, to some extent, on you.  You came here voluntarily, I was told.  Did you have any expectations?”  She gazed at the kneeling form, a slight smile upon her lips.

       The kneeling figure shook her head.

       “No, ma'am.  None. It is all a mystery.”  She answered.

       “Very well.  It will be revealed to you.  A small bit at a time.  You will come to appreciate me.  To adore me.  To worship me.  Or you will die for me.  Truly die this time.  Without reincarnation.”

       She waved her hand and a low, wheeled table was brought forth.  Upon it lay a female form.  A beautiful smiling face shown under a gleaming bald pate.  She was attractive while bald, a smooth, unblemished skull, symmetrical, almost perfect. Her body was also almost perfect.  Breasts standing high, nipples aroused, a firm toned abdomen, tight hips without any sag.  And that was all there was.  The arms and legs were missing.  Smooth skin bearing only faint scars covered her shoulders and hips. Her pussy was also hairless, the clit standing out from its’ hood, pulsing slightly.  The labia were parted, each lip laid out to display its’ perfection.  It glistened, fluid dripping down the crack, spreading across the surface of the hips, where legs should have been.

       “Do you like her?”  The woman asked.  “She is pretty, is she not?”  The kneeling woman just nodded, her mouth dry, both from the anesthesia as well as fear.

       “She came to us much like you did, though by a different conveyance.  She was whole then.  She had glorious legs.  Her hands and fingers were exquisite.  You may see them one day.”  The woman who once was Sarah jerked at that and tore her vision away from the body on the cart and looked at the woman on the throne.  She was smiling.

       “They were just too pretty to throw away.  She had decided that she didn't want them anymore.  That she wouldn't need them anymore.  So they were preserved.  You may be amused by their new function. She, too, came here without expectations.  To determine her purpose, her destiny, took time.  As will yours.  That is appropriate, since time is all you have.  And that belongs to me.  As do you.”  She waved her hand at the figure below her.

       “She provided quite a lot of entertainment while her fate was being determined.  She suffered wonderfully.”  The woman smiled down at the partial person. “And you enjoyed every gloriously painful second of it, didn't you?”  The head nodded, smiling widely. She addressed the kneeling woman again.

        “We have many very imaginative people here.  The photos and videos of your previous exploits were interesting.  Consider them an appetizer for what you will enjoy here.  This example before you was used at least as stringently as you; now her life is simpler.  Now she has several responsibilities.  She provides pleasure and relief in the stables and kennels.  Demonstrate for our new possession, dear.” 

       The figure on the table squirmed a bit, the muscles around her lower abdomen twitching.  Slowly her pussy opened and her lubricating fluid flowed out, puddling on the table.  It continued to expand, gaping, revealing an astonishing ability to accommodate cocks of large girth.  Her female escort rolled her over, she then showed an equal capacity from behind.  She was returned to her back, her open mouth revealed smooth gums. 

       “Her teeth make a beautiful necklace.  With matching earrings.”  The kneeling woman shuddered, but her pussy twitched.  “She is a favorite with the stallions.  They know her well, both carnally as well as by her fragrance.  When they smell her they become quite animated.  The occupants of our kennels also find great delight in her favors.  Generally her beverage is tepid water and horse's urine.  She specifically dislikes the taste of dog's piss.  So of course she gets that regularly as well.”  The former Sarah felt her pussy start to moisten. “It took many months of chastisement – some might call it torture, we prefer to call it 'enlightenment' for her to convey to her trainers what she would become.  She didn't actually tell them, of course, because she didn't know herself.  It is revealed slowly, just as your destiny will be revealed.  Occasionally she is granted a treat.  Today is just such an occasion.” 

       The limbless figure quivered, perhaps in anticipation and twisted her head around, looking up at what was happening.  A narrow table was placed under the throne.  The beautiful blonde stood upon it and started pulling the hem of her gown up to her hips.  As she did this another slave removed the center of the throne bottom revealing an open dished section that resembled a toilet seat.  She sat back down, placing her feet on the footrests to either side of the table while the form was pulled from one table to the other, the face of the bald head placed under her mistress.  The table apparently had a mechanism for movement.  The mistress placed her fingers on the side of one armrest and moved the head into position. 

       “Her favorite beverage comes from me.  I'll treat her shortly.  First I get a treat.”  She said.  She pushed a few buttons and the head came up closer to the blonde's pussy.  The bald head had to strain to reach the labia with her lips.  The mistress teased the tongue, allowing a taste, a drop of fluid, then pulling away.  A small moan was heard from the head.  The tongue kept searching, the neck straining to afford access.  At last the mistress settled down and allowed the tongue and then the lips and mouth to feast on the flesh and the moisture within.         

       The kneeling woman watched, fascinated at the display.  This woman who had been monstrously violated worshiped the pussy of the very woman who had inflicted this terrible punishment upon her.  She lapped and drank as though it was the most glorious thing in her life.  The new arrival could tell that is exactly what it was.

       “Thirsty?” The mistress asked of the head beneath her.  The head nodded without breaking contact.  The mistress rose and dipped her hips slightly.  She parted her labia with her fingers and delivered a slow stream into the mouth waiting below her.  The woman who had been Sarah watched, thirsty, wishing it was her lying there, swallowing.  She too swallowed as she watched the slave's throat move.        

       The mistress continued to piss as the mouth swallowed, the throat showing the function.  She finished and settled down to allow the lips and tongue to clean her. 

       “Hungry now?”  The mistress asked.  The eyes under her gleamed and the head nodded enthusiastically, the toothless mouth opening wide.  Another touch of a button and the head moved slightly back.  The majestic blonde reached under her and spread her cheeks to provide a better view.  She motioned to the guards to bring the new acquisition forward.  They placed her close to the side of the throne.  Emerald eyes watched the space between the spread ass cheeks and the open mouth below. 

       The mistress settled down and relaxed.  She allowed a large morsel to pass into the waiting mouth beneath her anus.

       “Chew it slowly.  Show us how much you enjoy it.”  She commanded.  The mouth closed but a smile remained nevertheless.  She chewed, masticating with her gums.  Her eyes closed.

       The kneeling woman glanced from the chewing mouth down across the quivering body.  The cunt was again starting to open and close as if preparing for a lover.  Her body’s lubricant began to flow again, spreading over the smooth skin.  Her mistress watched the signs of her arousal, the cunt swelling; the clit growing out from its hiding spot.  When the diminished body began to shake with her passion her mistress commanded:

       “Swallow.  And cum.” Immediately the figure arched, supporting herself with the crown of her head and her ass.  A spurt of liquid erupted from her cunt; she shook several more times as her throat worked and then she dropped down flat onto the table.

       At the command the woman once known as Sarah also swallowed, surprised that her mouth was full of saliva, though she did not have an orgasm.

       When the toilet opened her eyes she again opened her mouth.  An even larger prize was given.  The slave's eyes widened as she struggled to close her mouth.

       “You may enjoy that all night.  I'll visit you tomorrow to find out how much. Then you may swallow it.”  The body was pulled out onto the flat cart and she was wheeled away, her cheeks bulging.  Another slave quickly slipped in under the throne to finish cleaning up.  The new spectator watched while the slave eagerly took to her task, continuing long after the skin was clean; worshiping her mistress's hole.

       “That will do.  Your mouth is soiled.  Another.” She motioned among the slaves, another slipped down to press her mouth against the shaved pussy, she fastened her mouth as would a leech, sucking and licking.  The muscles in her throat displayed her enthusiasm.  The mistress turned and looked down at her new property.

       “Perhaps you will get an opportunity to do that, providing you prove your worth.  Would you like to worship at my rear altar?”  The new slave nodded; she realized she was still salivating. She swallowed.  Was it necessary to lose her arms and legs to be allowed the pleasure of worshiping at that altar?  Was it worth it?  She thought perhaps that it was.

       

       

Chapter 4

The Mistress looked behind the kneeling figure beside her and motioned with her chin.  The woman felt a large hand slip behind her; thumb entering her asshole, two middle fingers entering her cunt.  Massive fore and pinkie fingers clamped her labia together against the middle fingers.  The flesh was squeezed like it was in a vise.  The other hand clamped her breast in a crushing grip.  Simultaneously his partner picked up her ankle chains, folding her knees up to her thighs and grabbed her other breast.  They picked her up as if she were a folding lawn chair and carried her toward a steel door.

       

She started to look around when the voice belonging to the thumb in her ass said:

“Down. You only look down.”  He said while squeezing her pussy even tighter and bearing down with his thumb against his palm for emphasis.  His voice was very calm, impassive.  Her entire crotch felt like it was being crushed. She looked down and saw the bottoms of athletic shorts, two pair of incredibly large legs extending down into equally impressive feet clad in deck shoes, one on either side of her body.

“Are you thirsty?”  The same voice asked.  She nodded, not knowing whether or not to speak.

The door opened as they approached; they passed through and down a series of hallways to an elevator.  They entered, still holding her, she felt their descent.

“How far?”  She wondered.  The trip was smooth; there was no sensation of speed, or even of stopping.  Suddenly the doors opened and they stepped through and turned right.  At the third doorway they stopped at the opening and she was carried in.  They turned her from left to right, displaying her new quarters. A low, narrow, short bed was against the left wall.  It was adorned only with a thin mat, covered with a sheet of coarse cotton.  A flannel sheet was the only blanket.  In the far left corner was a funnel shaped three inch hole, less than 2 feet away was a small bucket.  The walls were white painted cast concrete, extending 9 feet to a concrete ceiling.  A flush mounted light fixture spread diffuse light into the chamber.  They carried her over to the hole. Thumb spoke again:

“That's your toilet.”  He paused while they turned her a few degrees. “That's your water bucket.”  It was half full of a pale yellow liquid. 

“Looks like it needs topping off.”  The voice of the other one said.  They gently placed her on her knees on the floor.  The thumb that had been in her ass was presented to her mouth for cleaning.  The fingers and palm were soaking wet.

“Damn!”  She thought.  “I've sucked smaller cocks than this.”  And she began to treat it like a cock.

From the corner of her eyes she could see the other one pull from his shorts a cock that would impress a horse.  This made her eyes widen.  The cock began pissing, filling the water bucket.  She released the now clean thumb and watched with her head bent down as the other one pulled out a cock of similar gigantic proportions and also added to the bucket.  When they had finished the bucket was filled to the brim; foamy and bright yellow. 

       

One of the massive hands grasped the back of her head like she would hold a baseball and pushed her face into the bucket.

“Drink.”  Was his only command.  Her entire face was submerged, she had no other choice but to drink.  She swallowed as fast as possible.  The urine filled her nose and sinuses, burning.  She drank, the familiar taste warm on her tongue.  She began to run out of air.  Her lungs began to burn, her throat spasmed.  Her body jerked, then her head was pulled up long enough for her to get a lungful of air and then it was returned to the bucket.  The memory of drowning in an ocean of piss that she had had during her transport came back.  Her face was only in a small pail; it might as well have been the Pacific.

“Cunt, you're going to have to learn to drink faster than that.”  One of the men said.  Through the haze of pain she felt her hips being lifted up, her head not moving a millimeter.  She felt a large blunt object at her asshole and then felt it press into her. 

“Oh, no,” she thought “I can't take that dry, it would be difficult with lube...lots of lube!”  She was wrong, of course.  The cock forced into her pucker, the pain from her ass adding to the pain in her chest and head.  He thrust into her; her body almost upside down.  She continued to drink, getting an occasional opportunity to breathe.  She felt him pull her ass tightly to him and then he jerked several times.  The cool rush of air into her asshole as he withdrew helped sooth the pain.  Her head was released and she was handed to the other one.  He too plunged into her ass, his entrance aided by the stretching from his partner and the copious amount of semen left behind.  As she was pounded by the second one the first one presented his tool for cleaning.  She was suspended between the two behemoths.

“No way that thing is going down my throat.”  She thought.  This time she was right; but not before a valiant attempt to achieve that goal was made.  He relented to her getting the head and a few inches into her mouth, then licking the shaft clean. 

She felt the second one jerking hard against her ass and then her hole was again empty.  They returned her to her knees to finish her hygiene chore.  When she had finished, a hand reached behind her and unlocked the cuffs.  Without releasing her wrist her hands were brought in front of her and the cuffs re-installed.  A short metal cable with a loop welded on one end was slipped through a ring on her collar; a metal ball slightly larger than the ring welded to the other end secured it.  The loop was pushed through a hole in the hinge of the cuffs and a padlock snapped onto the loop. 

“Welcome home.”  Thumb said.  His voice sounded like he might have been smiling.  She watched their feet walk out the door and the door slide shut. 

After a few minutes she edged over and propped her butt onto the mattress.  She leaned over and pulled the sheet away, squirming onto the pad. The bed was too short to fully stretch out on, so narrow that her shoulder was on the edge.  Her copper hued hair was soaked, piss dripping onto the pad; she realized that she was soiling the cover with the remnants of her sodomy, brown smears streaking the sheet.  She ignored it; what else could she do?  The lights dimmed then went out.  She drifted into a slumber.

Chapter 5

She dreamed that she was lying under a waterfall.  Torrents of liquid splashed down over her face, filling her nose, then her mouth.  She awoke to two fire hose size streams of piss coming from the same two cocks she had experienced the day (or was it night?) before.  She reached up with her bound hands to block the flow and allow her to get a gasp of air.  Her knees came up and swung off to the side; tangling the flannel sheet and dragging it along with her body to the floor.  She knelt, the two streams following her movements and aiming around her hands; piss again soaking her hair and face.  Rivulets ran off of her body, soaking into her blanket.

“Think she'll learn?”  One of the men asked.

“Maybe.  Hope not too soon, though.” The other answered.  “They're more fun while they're stupid.  Hey, cunt.  Who said you could get off the bed?”

She began to untangle her feet and legs and to scramble back up onto the bed.

“Stop.  While you're down there, stay down.”  She was told.  The streams faded, urine dripping from her head and body.  One of the men pulled her by the arm so that they could stand on either side of her. Again the thumb and fingers found her convenient “handles” and lifted her up.  She thought of her self as a large, irregularly shaped bowling ball.  They carried her towards the door.  She told them:

“I can walk.”

“Fine. Go ahead. Now shut up.” The vise at her crotch tightened another notch. They kept going as before, through a maze of hallways, the floor revealing little about her surroundings.  Soon she saw that they had arrived at a shower and toilet area.  It looked large; she couldn't tell just how large but she gathered in her few peeks that a small group could shower there.  The two escorts put her down in front of a shower head and lifted her hands. A looped cable hung from the ceiling; it was slipped through the hole in her cuffs and a padlock kept her in place.  Without a word the two men left; a stern looking woman wearing only wrist and ankle cuffs connected by chains began preparing her shower. 

The water was turned on; it was warm.  At least she wouldn't freeze.  After she was soaked the woman applied shampoo and lathered her hair.  Once that was rinsed the woman turned to get a sponge.

“Where am I...what is…” The bound woman started to say. Her words were cut off by a sharp crack as a pain struck her left ass cheek.  She wondered if she had been hit by lightning.

“Quiet. Not. Another. Sound.”  The admonition came from another woman; attired like the first; that had slipped in unnoticed.  A large towel with one wet corner hung from her hand.

“That's going to leave a mark.”  The almost suspended woman thought as she winced.  Again, she was correct.  They finished the shower with a cold rinse, then a rub down with a large towel. 

The two escorts returned and delivered her to what seemed to be a gathering or common area containing tables, chairs and benches.  They deposited her next to a chair before a table.  She repeated the thumb cleaning.  A plate of scrambled eggs mixed with ham and a side of hash browned potatoes was placed on the table in front of her, a glass of milk and a plastic spoon accompanied the meal.  She ate hungrily; the eggs and potatoes were excellently prepared.  After finishing one of the escorts told her:

“You have an invitation.  Come with us.”

“As if I have a choice?”  She thought.

This time she was allowed to walk, one man ahead of her, the other behind.  She caught peeks around until the one behind popped her ass with something, possibly a crop or maybe just a massive hand.

“Look down. You must be slow.”  Was all he said.

They arrived at a door.  A brass plaque, out of the captive's sight read “Office”.  The door opened and they stepped inside.  The escorts stepped back and disappeared out the door; it slid closed behind them.  She stared down at the floor, trying to get a grasp of what was in the room.

“Again, welcome home. You may sit…in the chair.” He motioned to the chair in front of the desk. “And you can look up in here.”  A male voice told her. 

She looked around and found a comfortable straight backed chair and sat.  She took the offered opportunity and examined her surrounds.  The room was simple; carpet, several black and white framed prints of women in extremely uncomfortable positions adorned the walls. A dark brown leather couch sat under two of the prints. A wooden file cabinet and a credenza were against the back wall. The man who had spoken was seated behind a simple desk with a glass top bearing an open laptop computer. He was perhaps 40, not much older than that.  His hair was light brown and cut short; eyes gray. He wore a pale blue polo shirt and khaki chinos.

“Deck shoes.  Must be the uniform” She thought.

He seemed fit and sat relaxed in the plush leather office chair.  He seemed a bit taller than average, thought being seated it was hard to tell.  A slight smile played across his face as he watched and waited for her reaction.  She finally noticed that the front legs of the desk were exactly that: female legs, the soles supporting the glass, the other ends finished with a wide base.  The back supports were arms, the flat palms holding the glass.  The shoulder ends terminated in bases matching the legs.

“OHH!”  She gasped, looking at the limbs then back at the man.  She paled and drew back into the chair as far as she could.  She was almost paralyzed by fear.

“Are those...do those belong...”  She couldn't get the question out. She pointed with a finger while both hands held her face.

“Are you asking about the desk legs?”  The man asked.  “Actually; legs and arms.”  He seemed amused.  “Are you asking if they belong to the female who attended the mistress yesterday?” She nodded.  “Yes.  She didn't want them anymore.  They are just to pretty to discard.  Don't you agree?”  She didn't move nor speak.

“You'll learn more about them later.  First;  while in here you may speak.  You may ask questions without any recrimination.  Of course if your questions become tedious the visit might be cut short.  You will only come here by invitation.  You can refuse the invite, if you wish.  And nothing will come of it.  But an invitation is rarely refused.” He smiled. “The irony is that the only thing you can refuse is an invitation to come here.  Everyone calls it 'The Office.'  It isn't the only office, of course.  But it's the only one most of our occupants ever see.  Did your welcome meet your expectations?”

“Which welcome...?”  She replied hesitantly.  “The demonstration of the...donor.”  She gestured towards the desk, “Or the one in the room?”  The man laughed softly.

“Mainly the demonstration,” The man laughed. “Your escorts are the “Roscoes”.  They aren't biological twins, but they're pretty close to it otherwise.  They weren't being either particularly brutal, or imaginative. They can be extremely imaginative as well as brutal.  You may find out.  They were following instructions.  And they follow instructions quite well.  Most all the staff does.  Otherwise they find positions elsewhere. My name is Charles, though for you that will be mostly irrelevant for some time.  If you do have the occasion to speak to me, you may address me as 'Sir'.  As you will to every other male to whom you might speak.  Females are either ma'am or 'Lady'.  Of course your mistress is ‘Mistress’. It's unlikely you will speak much outside of this office for at least a few weeks.  You are permitted to answer direct questions. Your education will begin as soon as you leave here.  So if you have any questions; ask them now.”

“Where am I?”  She asked, “Sir.”  She added.

“You are here…at home.”  He answered.

“Where is here, sir?”  She again inquired.

“Your question is tedious.  Don't waste the opportunity.”  He said calmly.  She thought for a moment.

“I was bought.  Was I expensive?”  She asked.

“Expensive enough,” He said flatly.  She was suddenly apprehensive that she was boring him.

“What will I do here?  What can I expect?  Who am I?”  She questioned. He smiled.

“A better line of questioning.  I'll answer them in the reverse order.  We don't know who you are; yet.  “But since you arrived on Tuesday, for now, that will be your name. For example, it took many months to determine Helena's name.  She's the donor of my desk supports that you saw yesterday.”  He motioned to the desk. “She didn't know; no one knew, exactly what her true purpose was until she and her...instructors...arrived at her true desire.  It was determined that she wanted to...specialize.  And that her specialty would not require the use of her arms and legs.  She asked that they be removed.  When she visits here she doesn't even notice them.”  The woman seemed incredulous.

“She ASKED that they be amputated?”  Tuesday asked, astonished.

“Quite.  Begged, in fact.  The mistress permitted it with reluctance.  But, she was right, after all.  Her self imposed immobility suits her uses perfectly.  Hopefully you, and we, will find your position with such certainty.”  Her mind was reeling. “Everyone has a purpose here.  We are very good at helping each one find their purpose.  As to your expectations, they too, will partly be up to you to decide.  I can assure you that any experiences you may have had prior to coming here will be mild compared to what you will experience here.  I've seen the videos and stills; the web site captures. You were quite the party girl. We party much, much rougher than that.”  She swallowed, scared. “There will be pain.  That seems to excite you, to arouse you.  You will be aroused; that is part of the intent.  Then taken way past that.  Humiliation excites you.  A few weeks as a personal toilet for anyone who wants or needs your services will satisfy as at least one source of humiliation.  You will probably get a chance to join Helena in the stables and kennels.”  She straightened slightly. He noticed her reaction and corrected himself.  “Let me change that.  You WILL assist Helena.  And she'll need a toilet as well.”  Her face paled.  “As for what you will do here...you've just heard a little of it.  But these things are more for your preparation.  You were purchased with expectations of providing a return on our investment.  How you develop will determine how we might expect to get that return.  You will do anything that you are instructed.  Some of the instruction will teach you how to behave and interact with others here.  Other parts will be to determine how best to utilize you and discover your purpose. To that end both you and we will learn.  It will be more uncomfortable for you.  It will be entertaining for us.  Perhaps even for you.”  He paused and smiled.

“How...how was Helena's name determined?”  She asked.

“From the movie.  'Boxing Helena'.  In that movie the female lead lost her limbs, at least at first.  Here, it isn't a fantasy. You watched her yesterday.  Would you think from what you saw that she is satisfied here?”  He asked Tuesday.

“Yes.  Somehow.  I...I don't understand how.  What she did...did she really have an orgasm?”  Tuesday asked.

“Oh, yes.  She absolutely adores and truly worships her mistress, as do all our acquisitions.  You will too, be assured.  Or you better be deserving of an Academy Award.  We have never had to forfeit an investment. Don't be the first.” He said.

“What do you do here?  To get a return on your investments, I mean.”  Tuesday asked.

“Many things.  Not all returns are monetary.  Though many, if not most; are.”  He thought for a minute. “We host certain individuals for different lengths of time.  Some desire a particular erotic experience.  We aren't a high priced brothel.  Some could consider it so, but it is much more involved than that.  In fact, some of our patrons don't spend a penny of currency...but it is still very expensive when we collect on the bill.   We provide acquisition services; we also provide custom training services for individuals. We occasionally combine an acquisition and training process, usually to specification.  About half of our acquisitions come through an auction. We also acquire individuals who have proven to be… intransigent. These are generally private transactions; the intent is to provide a more thorough training practice and then when they are proven to be successfully trained, to place them in other settings at a profit.  We have misjudged the individuals in a few instances.  These examples typically end up in the pleasure industry, in obscure areas where there are great language differences.  Southeast Asia, for example.  If the individual is mute and sightless she is much more malleable.”  He shrugged.  She shuddered.  “Not all investments are winners. That’s the nature of any business.”

“What did you have in mind for me?”  She asked. “A specific placement?”

“You are a most unusual acquisition.” He said, his fingers forming a steeple.  “Most of the individuals are much younger.  I believe in your previous life you were a licensed professional?” He asked.  She nodded.  “Those qualifications are irrelevant now, of course. You’re dead. But they do demonstrate your intelligence and mental competence.  That provided a certain cachet for you.  Your selection of your profession was based on certain cerebral passions.  Your future activities will be driven by more physical passions…and reactions.  Your mistress was intrigued by your beauty and past activities.  And that you volunteered.”  She looked at the floor.

“I deconstructed my life.”  She began. “I had help…you could say someone pushed me along.  But I could have stopped it.  At least I could have at one point.”  She sighed and looked at him. “Then I realized it was too late.  By then I didn’t want to stop.  I threw away my marriage; my profession…finally my family.  My life.”  She paused.  “Sir, may I ask my mistress’s name?”

“You may ask anything.  You won’t always get an answer.  Her given name is Christine.  I doubt that you will get a chance to call her anything other than ‘Mistress’ for quite a while.”  He answered.  She just nodded.  “She has some ideas for you.  We will have to see how you react to your initial training.

Some of our services are delivered out of house.  Insuring secure transport is expensive and tedious; so that happens infrequently.  But it does happen.  The instructional events are recorded.  The recordings are utilized in various ways, including for training other places. Pain, like sex, sells.  As does humiliation, I might add.  You were quite popular before.  I expect you will be popular again.  Unfortunately, none of your previous partners will be able to sample any of your newly learned skills.  They will not even recognize you; should they happen to see a recording.” 

Tuesday looked first startled, then frightened at this. If these people could amputate a woman's arms and legs and turn them into furniture, how might they render her unrecognizable?

“Relax.”  Charles told her. “We aren't going to disfigure you.  Unless you request it; and even then I would seriously doubt it.  Your beauty is one of the reasons you were acquired.  You are certainly quite beautiful.”  He glanced down at her legs and back to her breasts before returning to look into her eyes. “Cosmetic surgery is not anticipated.”  Tuesday relaxed a bit. “There are other ways to hide your identity.  I haven’t seen any unusual birthmarks or tattoos. The recordings are certainly not mass marketed.  Many are a bit too esoteric for local mores. Even if someone were to figure out your old identity, they would be fellows within our circle of...acquaintances.  The one thing to concentrate on is to learn to achieve the same level of enjoyment that you used to know at the new levels of...discomfort...that you will experience here.  You seemed to enjoy pain. And rough sex. We will provide plenty of both. That goes for your other passions as well.  I watched you hang from your breasts.  Also being drowned.  Did these things arouse you?”  She stared at nothing, remembering, thinking.

“No...and yes.  They were very... extremely...painful.  After it was over I discovered that I was wet.  But I didn't realize it during the experience.”  She answered.

“You're a natural.  That might make it easier for you to learn. You should hope so.  It doesn't matter to your instructors, of course.  They will follow the curriculum.  Regardless.”   He replied.  And then he smiled and stood.  As he rose the door opened and The Roscoes stepped in.

“May I walk, please? Sir?”  She asked Charles.  He grinned.

“Yes.”  He looked up at the two huge men before him.  “Let her walk.  She might be a tad sore after your welcome.”  The almost giants looked amused.

“I'll bet she almost enjoyed it.”  One opined.

“Maybe she'll enjoy the next one even more.”  The other offered.  She was amazed that even their voices seemed identical.

“I must be getting soft.  Or maybe because she's so lovely.  She used to enjoy it rough so give her a chance to enjoy the next one.  We'll see.”  Charles directed. “This one is different from the usual.  Don’t damage her.  Her Mistress would be unhappy.  She isn’t fragile…so abuse her.  Just don’t break her.”

“Yes, Sir,” One of them answered.  The other took her firmly but carefully and unlocked one of the cuffs and put her hands back behind her.  He bent her arms up toward her neck and the other turned her collar around so that the ring was at the back.  He pushed the loop through the cuff and locked it, forcing her hands into a reverse prayer position.  The manner of fact way that he did it started her wetness flowing.  As they turned her she looked back at the man behind the desk. She smiled at him.

“Thank you, sir.”  She said.

“You're welcome.”  Was his reply.

Chapter 6

“You may look up.  But don’t look into anyone’s eyes.  Understand?”  One of the Roscoes told her.  They were standing outside of the closed office door.  The attitude had changed slightly.

“Yes, sir,” She answered.

“I’m Joseph; Master Joseph, that is.  The little guy is Master John.”  She looked at them both, avoiding looking into their faces.  She seemed confused.

“Joe is an eighth of an inch taller than I am.   But my cock is bigger.”  Master John said, grinning.

“By a millimeter. Big deal.” Joe responded.  “Maybe we’ll blindfold her and see if she can tell the difference.”  Tuesday began to feel her mutinous pussy start to betray her and start dripping.  “Want to try?”

“Thank you, Master Joe.  Yes. Please.”  She replied.  Both men grinned at each other.

They proceeded down the corridor, Joe - (or was it John?) led the way.  The man following her admired the shape and tightness of her buttocks, the way they swayed slightly and the smooth curve of her thighs.  Her legs moved gracefully on slender ankles.  He noticed her fingers curling and uncurling as her hands writhed within the cuffs.  The hinged cuffs were chosen both for their security as well as their “comfort”.  The edges were rounded, not sharp; still the metal was unyielding, pressing into her wrists.  Her shoulders bunched and twitched; biceps and triceps straining.  

“How long it will it take to stretch her enough so that her elbows as well as her wrists will touch?”  He mused to himself.  “That will really make those beautiful tits stand out.”   They stood out quite proudly now.  He dipped his head to get a look at her sex as she walked.  He could see the flesh was shining from moisture; with his head bent over he could smell a faint wisp of her aroma. “Hopefully she won't go off the deep end, like the other one did.”  He thought.  “Those legs are gorgeous.  That would be such a fucking waste.  We're going to enjoy this cunt.”

Two minutes after the Roscoes escorted Tuesday away, the door to the office opened.  Charles looked up as the tall graceful figure slipped in and closed the door behind her.  The blonde hair fell to her shoulders, the incredible blue eyes danced over a bemused smile.  Royal blue leather stretched across full, high breasts; the broadly displayed cleavage a valley of hidden delights.  The leather continued down over tight hips and long, trim legs; ankle boots with three inch heels completed the ensemble.  With the heels she was six feet, one; an inch shorter than Charles.

“Hello M'love.”  Charles greeted her. “How's the morning so far?”  He reached around and pressed a button hidden under the top of the credenza.  The covert recording equipment shut down. 

“Fine. I thought I'd stop by and see how the initial interview went.”  Christine said. She stepped around to the side of the desk as he stood up.

“Didn't you watch?”  He asked.

“Of course.  I want to get your perception.  Did we choose well?  Will she work out?” Christine inquired.

“You mean, 'did you choose well?'.  I just paid the bill.  But I think so.  She is beautiful.  And intelligent.  She's aware of things. A large difference from most of the young tarts we've had through here. I think we'll enjoy her.  Might even make a buck or two.”  He replied and smiled.

“How are things going, financially?”  She asked.

“Okay.  She will impact the bottom line for the month.  No big deal.  Now what is a big deal is how my cock feels after being in the room with her.  That woman is hot!  Time for an interest payment on my investment.”  He grinned at her. 

“You can put it on my tab.”  She said grinning back.

“Nope. I'm going to put it in your mouth.”  He responded.

She moved back around to the front of the desk while he retrieved some chains and manacles from the file cabinet.  He slipped the leg cuffs around her ankles and she knelt, placing her hands behind her.  The wrist cuffs were installed.  A short chain connected the wrists and ankles, keeping her in place.  Charles pulled the chair over in front of the lovely woman, dropped his trousers and then sat.

“My, sir, what a big cock you have!”  Christine teased, smiling.

“The better to fuck your throat with, my dear.”  He returned.  He offered his cock to her lips.  She moved toward him, opening her mouth just enough to grasp him snugly with her lips; then keeping her eyes locked on his, began a slow in and out motion on his cock.  Her mouth slipped almost off the head, then moved forward to cover a little more.  Back, but not as far as before, then a bit deeper.  She continued the stroking until her lips touched his belly, her eyes never leaving his.  When her lips reached bottom she stopped.  He sighed.  She began her trip in reverse, until she got to the tip.  She opened her mouth wider and grinned at him.

“Do you enjoy this as much as I do?”  She asked.

“Maybe.  Keep doing it and I'll let you know.”  He answered.  She grinned at him and repeated her reciprocating oral voyage down his cock.  As she finished her fourth trip she gave the head a strong suck and, still looking into his eyes said:

“Please.  Fuck me.  Fuck my throat.  Like the Roscoes would.  Please.”

“If I were equipped like them, I could.  Of course you'd never be able to speak again. Your larynx would be somewhere down around your asshole.”  He quipped.

“Mmmmm.  It might be worth it.”  She replied.

“Not to me.”  He answered and grasped her head with his hands.  He firmly held each side of her head and pulled her mouth down on his cock.  His actions sped up, he thrust his hips into her mouth as he pulled her to him.  She maintained her suction on the cock; her cheeks hollowing with each retraction.  Her tongue swirled around the shaft; around the head when he pushed away far enough for her tongue to reach it.  He continued; his cock sliding into her throat until his belly touched her lips, his scrotum rocking against her chin. She thrilled at having her face fucked like this; being used as an objet’ d’lust. He gazed into her eyes and smiled.  He blew her a kiss and winked.  She returned the wink, still maintaining a suction on his cock. At last he began to shudder, bending down to put his cheek on the top of her head.  His first shot went down her throat without her tasting it, the head of his cock well into the tunnel of her throat.  He pulled back after the first one to deposit the rest of his semen on her tongue.  She loved the taste and texture of it; a thrill went down to her wet cunt.  He raised up slowly and watched her mouth as she worked her tongue around, opening her mouth to show him her prize.  She closed her mouth and her eyes, swallowing.

“Mmmm. Yumm.  My favorite snack.”  She said opening her eyes and returning her gaze to his. She smiled as she said it.  “I get so wet when we do that.  I'm wearing a thong with an extra thick crotch today.  I'll have to find a likely candidate to suck it dry.”

“Make sure it's recorded.  But, no cumming until later.  I want you hot and bothered tonight!”  He told her.  She pouted and stuck her lower lip out at him.

“For that, then, you'll get your pussy licked at least three times today.  A minimum of an hour apiece.  Recorded.  If you cum I'll lock a chastity belt on you and whip you for a few hours.  And then the belt stays on for another day.  Then, MAYBE, I'll let you cum.”  She stuck her lip back in. 

“Yes, sir.  You can be so mean.  Thank you.  I'll be hotter than a volcano tonight.”  She said, a bit more deferentially.   He grinned at her.

“You love being teased.  You love the tension of holding it back.  And I love doing it to you as much as you love getting it.  Tonight, if you behave yourself, I'll fuck your lights out.  Obey.”  He stood and pulled up his pants; then stepped behind her to release her from her bonds.  He assisted her to her feet and kissed her cheek.

“Your breath smells like semen.”  He said, smiling.

“Delicious!” She smiled back.

“Where are you off to now?”  He asked.

“I'm going to see if Helena has been enjoying the snack I gave her yesterday.”  She replied.

“Think she's swallowed, yet?”  He inquired.

“I doubt it.  She loves to show it to me and then makes a big display of swallowing and cleaning the inside of her mouth with her tongue.”  She gave a little shiver.  “That woman loves her subservience.  I'll give her something to wash her mouth out with as well.  I'll record it, of course.  Would you like for her to give me my first hour?  She would love it.  May she cum, though?”

“Yes, to both.  We'll watch it this evening while you suck my cock again.”  She blew him a kiss as she left the room. He sighed as he made his way back behind his desk.

Chapter 7

Joe led the way to a large room that could only be described as a torture chamber.  It wasn’t dark; nor was it dank.  No torches on the wall. Instead it was well lit, clean, organized; with polished terrazzo floors.  But… the apparatus clearly demonstrated its’ purpose.  X Crosses, sharp edged horses, padded whipping benches, racks – multiple – one in the form of an arch with strange accessories underneath.  A variety of hoists and pulleys dangled chains and cables.  Some of the cables were finished with loops such as she had already experienced; others held hooks or carabiners.  Stocks of various configurations were intermingled.   The lighting was bright but diffuse.  Cameras hung from brackets attached to the ceiling.  Cabinets along the wall hid the tools; several rolling carts were lined up awaiting use.  Some of the components looked to be modular for multiple applications.  Tuesday had never imagined some of the equipment she saw; how they might be used raised her level of apprehension.

She stood between them, hands secured behind her back, attached to her collar.  Master John – or was it Master Joseph? – reached out and gently grasped her left breast at the base.  His fingers were extended to cover the entire globe.  Even as large as her breasts were, his hands were big enough to encompass it.  He began to bring his fingers together, squeezing the flesh into a cone.  She could not comprehend how one hand could apply the amount of pressure she was feeling.  He started slowly to give her time to adjust; within two minutes the adjustment was over and tears formed at the corners of her eyes.  Then the other Master duplicated the move one her right breast.  Without them even revealing a strain she felt herself being lifted from the floor.  She was soon dangling from their fingers by her breasts.  She rolled her head back and moaned.  She couldn’t tell which was worse – the compression of her breasts or the feeling that they were being torn from her chest.

She felt the floor again with her toes, she hadn't realized they had lowered her. She straightened her head again, her eyes filled with tears.  Joe knelt down and removed her ankle chains and grasped one ankle, pulling her legs farther apart. He ran a fingertip along the folds of her pussy; the lips parted and a strand of drool dripped down.

“Hmm.  Enjoyed that, eh?” He inquired.  She nodded her head, eyes closed. Maybe you'll enjoy this as well.  Maybe not, though.  But we will.”  He walked over to a wall cabinet and removed a spreader bar and a set of suspension cuffs.  John moved her to stand under one of the ceiling cables.  He picked her up effortlessly and turned her upside down.  Joe attached the cuffs to her ankles and then to the bar.  They lifted her up and clipped the spreader bar to the cable.  He clipped another cable to an ankle to prevent her from spinning. Her wrists were released and reconnected to a ring inset into the floor. The two men stepped over to another cabinet to select their toys.

Joe selected a two foot long tawse, John a slender fiberglass cane.  They walked back, Joe stood at her front, John at her back and slightly to the side.  Simultaneously the tawse came briskly down on her pussy while the cane struck the junction of her thighs and buttocks.

“Ohhh!”  She gasped, twisting slightly.  Another set of blows landed; again, together.  Another gasp.  The next blows caught her breasts and shoulder blades, the tawse sweeping across first one direction, then the other.  The cane left two lines an inch apart across her back. 

“These guys have been practicing.”  She thought.  She could feel her clit begin its’ rebellious swelling.  Her nipples also responded to the touch of the lashes, the areolas puckering and tips extending.  The strokes continued, finding her armpits with both devices, her thighs and calves getting the same treatment.  The impacts grew sharper; the marks brighter.  Her breathing became gasps; she tried to keep from crying out.  Their goal was to hear those cries, and they were not to be denied.  Finally they broke her.

“AAHHH!”  She wailed. And wailed again when they each gave her three swift successive strokes.  They stepped away and Joe returned with a blindfold.

“At last.”  She thought. “Time for the contest.”  But no.  They simply blindfolded her and each picked up a medium length bullwhip.  There were far heavier versions in the cabinet; they didn't want to destroy her.  Just abuse her.  The whipping abuse continued for another thirty minutes.  When they were finished she was covered with stripes and small bite marks from the snapping end of the whips.  A few drops of blood fell from several of the bites.  They put the whips down and stood in front of her.  Her hair was wet from perspiration and tears, copper curls stuck to her forehead and wrapped around an ear. Sweat ran down from her armpits to her elbows.  Joe reached over and spread her puffy labia, dipped in a finger.  He stuck another beside the first; then a third.  When he plunged three deeply into her cunt she grunted.  His fingers came away dripping, he stuck them to her nose and her mouth automatically opened; her tongue began to clean them. 

When Joe decided that his fingers were clean enough he pulled his shorts down and dropped them to the floor.  He had to squat to reach her mouth with his cock.  She felt the cock bump her lips and she opened her mouth.  He pushed his cock to the bottom; her head jerked in response to her gag reflex.  He anticipated her movement, so when she tried to return to her previous position she found her mouth impaled on the cock, her head bent back uncomfortably.  She swallowed; trying to get the cock to enter her throat, to no avail. She choked around the shaft, the head preventing any air from entering her mouth.  She breathed through her nose, but that was difficult with her head bent back and the cock pressing hard against the back of her throat.  After almost a minute that felt like ten she began to shake and he relented, allowing her to swing her head back down and get a breath. Again the cock bottomed out in her mouth, pushing her head yet again.  He continued this game, never giving her a chance to actually render any pleasure, just punishing her with his cock. 

John grew tired of watching this, while Joe just grinned and pushed.  John swatted at Joe's arm and gave him a push. Joe gave a snicker and stepped aside, and then John began the same game.

Tuesday couldn't tell any difference by size, only that this one was dry; but not for long.  Not only was she drooling all over the meat, but her nose also contributed to the mess that was accumulating on her face.  Saliva and snot ran down her cheeks and over the blindfold.  Soon it added to the sweat matting her hair.

“She can't suck a cock worth a shit.”  Joe said.  It was really an unfair statement, since they hadn't actually given her a chance to suck either of them; they just battered her throat with their rams.  Her throat was bruised, her uvula felt like a punching bag.  She was raw from both the punishment and from straining to swallow upside down.  They unfastened her handcuffs from the floor, she felt herself being lifted up and the cables disconnected.  They left the spreader bar on and carried her over to a padded whipping bench and re-fastened her wrists to the floor on the other side. 

Joe rubbed his cock along the slit of her cunt, holding his hand underneath to catch some of her dripping drool.  John stepped in front of her and pulled the blindfold and wiped her face with a warm, wet towel.  John had already lost his shorts and stuck his cock back into her face; this time allowing her to actually lick and suck on his cock.  Joe pushed his cock into her pussy as John's tool entered her mouth.  She had been impaled like this many, many times, but never as fully as she experienced now.  Joe hit bottom quickly and he proceeded to pound her cervix much harder than he had pounded her throat.  She grunted as the cock sent shock waves up into belly, tears formed again and this time ran down toward her mouth.  Joe tired of the lack of the depth of penetration he desired and withdrew from her pussy.  She had an idea of what was next and her expectation was met.  He pressed the head of his cock against her pucker; but rather than just shoving into her he gave her a chance to relax and allow his entrance.  She opened her anus to give him a welcome and the tip slipped inside.  He waited for her to adjust to his girth and began a slow push into her bowels.  “This isn't too bad.”  She thought.  “About like a large fist and forearm.”  He continued his stroking, finally pressing his loins against her butt.

“Another short cunt.”  Joe told John. “When are they going to find us a slut with a cunt deep enough to actually get a good fuck?”  He asked.

“What's the matter?  Tired of sheep?”  John grinned at his partner.  “Helena can take it.  Maybe this one will learn, too.”

“Helena can take all of this cock?”  Tuesday wondered as the cock plundered her ass. “In her pussy? How?  Did they remove her uterus and cervix, too?  She would have to be hollow up to her sternum to handle this pole.”  His assault continued as she sucked and licked.  After what seemed like an hour (it was only thirty minutes) she felt the one behind her – she still didn't know which one it was – to stiffen and to plunge hard against her once, twice, thrice; then hold tight and felt his cock dance and twitch in her ass.

“Ass is nice and tight, though.  Give it a try.”  Joe said.  John withdrew his cock and stepped away. Joe's cock appeared before her face for cleaning, which she dutifully began.

John repeated Joe's action, gathering some of her drool and wiping it over his shaft.  It too, quickly bottomed out in her cunt.  He made sure to contribute to her pain, wanting her to have a long memory of this day whenever she moved or sat down.  He banged away; never tiring of the game. She expected that pissing would be agony for a few days.

Then it was John's cock in her ass.  She was already stretched from her first fucking, so he didn't take as long to warm her up.  He just enjoyed long, deep strokes into her ass, pausing at the bottom before withdrawing and re-plunging into her hole. It wasn't unpleasant; in fact it felt rather nice.  She enjoyed anal and this was a respite from the earlier abuse.  The cock at her mouth was now clean, but since it hadn't been removed she continued her ministrations. Fingers found her clit and pinched it.  First tight enough to hurt, then more of a pulsing and milking.  She felt the pressure build.  Her gaping pussy flooded even more, fluid dripping to the floor; drool hung in long strands as John kept up his rhythm.  His fingers continued his attack when suddenly her breasts were also assaulted.  Joe didn't try to tear them off this time, just squeezing enough to be both painful and pleasurable. His fingers slipped down to her elongated nipples and gave them both a squeeze and a twist; then she was gone.  Her orgasm swept over her; crashing into her mind, racking her body into gasping convulsions.  She jerked again and again; they wouldn't allow her any escape from herself.  After too many climaxes to count she was vaguely aware of John pressing himself hard against her and his crotch bucking against her cheeks.  Joe released her breasts and John pulled out of her ass.  She felt like she was open and hollow up to her lungs.  She lay collapsed on the bench.  After a few minutes John pulled her head up by her hair.  She smelled her ass on his cock; her eyes were still too clouded from her exertion to see. She opened her mouth to finish the job.

It took another ten minutes for her to clean the cock and recover enough to be able to stand.  They helped her to her feet, sans spreader bar, and put the handcuffs back on her.  The collar tether was left off for now.  They cleaned her up, top and bottom with another warm wet towel.

“Dinner time.  You've already had lunch.”  Joe said.

“Thank you, Master Joe, Thank you, Master John.”  She responded.  “I couldn't tell any difference in either your height or your size. I'll have to try again, if it is permitted.”

“Oh, it's permitted.  In fact, it's required.”  Joe answered.  “Maybe next time we'll do a sandwich.  You can be the meat.”

“Sounds like 'pressed ham' to me.”  John added, grinning at her.  She could see their faces, though was careful not to look them in the eyes.

“More like 'roadkill'.”  She replied.

       

       

Chapter 8

Christine left the office and went to find Helena.  Obviously Helena would be wherever she had been left; in this case in her cell.  Helena's cell was different from the rest – more like a shallow broom closet.  Her bed was a shelf that was the size of the floor of the closet – four feet wide and 3 deep, just above knee level.  A single vertical board 8” high across the door way kept her from rolling out.  She had learned and practiced squirming with her head and torso and could in fact move a bit.  But the vertical side was too high for her to go over.  The door closed even with the side so with the door closed she was completely isolated.  As a further source of aggravation, a lid was hinged on the back and usually left fastened up; when dropped it left her feeling like she had been closed in a drawer.  Or a coffin.  Any claustrophobia (which she did occasionally experience) only made it worse. 

The bottom of the shelf was padded and covered in a waterproof ultrasuede.  A slight incline toward a drain six inches from one end of the shelf made clean up easier. The drain also served as her toilet.  A faucet with a short hose hanging from it was plumbed into the wall at the drain end. She was no longer considered a full member of the little society that lived in the mansion; she had been reduced to a living object: a pet.  That had been decided both by her and by her trainers as her goal; her purpose.  And so she had achieved that goal. 

Christine pulled a cart from a closet next to Helena's cell; it was designed and constructed for the transport of the limbless female.  Christine touched the electronic lock pad next to Helena's door; the door slid open silently revealing the torso inside.  Christine smiled as she saw how the plaything had been left. Helena wasn't a large woman before she was diminished, now she resembled a broken doll.  A broken doll with remarkably large breasts.  A large chain had been locked around Helena's petite neck, each end locked to eye bolts anchored in the concrete wall.  It was symbolic; there was no possibility that she would ever leave the shelf by herself, besides the fact that there was no access to the door lock from the inside.  The chain would simply be an additional reminder of her helplessness.  Alone in the dark, unable to do more than squirm around; even this small ability was denied her.  The small space was filled with the stench from the contents of her mouth.  Christine winced and waved some fresher air into the area.

“Whew!  Have you been enjoying the snack I gave you yesterday?”  The bald head nodded.  “Show me.”  Helena opened her mouth to display the contents; it resembled thin pudding.  The stench increased.  “Flush it.”  The mistress said.  Helena closed her mouth and swallowed. She worked her tongue around and swallowed again.  “Time for a drink.  I need to piss anyway.  She examined the chain.  A key for the lock hung on a hook attached to the shelf lid.  She removed the chain and pushed it to the side. 

“So. It looks like someone wanted to be sure that you didn't manage to escape.  Was it the Roscoes or the Lady Beth who installed the chain?”  Christine asked.  Helena looked up at her mistress.  She was the only one other than senior staff and Charles who was permitted that luxury.

“Lady Beth, mistress.  She thought it was humorous.” Helena responded.  Her gums displayed the remnants of her snack.

“A joke.  A cruelty joke. Do you like it?  Or hate it?”  The mistress inquired.  Helena shrugged.

“I notice it occasionally; it rubs my throat.  It's no big deal.  I think she was doing it to be annoying.  If so, it didn't work.”  Helena was very stoic about her condition; she might as well be. 

“Lady Beth?  Being annoying?  That's what she's best at.  I'll tell her to try harder next time.”  Christine offered.

“Thank you, mistress.  You're most accommodating.”  Helena replied.  It was difficult to determine whether the comment was sincere or sarcastic.  Christine snickered at that.  The mistress unlocked the chain, dropped the side of the shelf.  The side was hinged to provide an extension that bridged the space to the cart. The cart butted against the extension and Christine maneuvered the torso onto the cart.  She pulled the body over until the bald head hung off the edge then lifted the hem of her dress and removed the thong.  The mouth opened and Christine filled it with her piss.  The mouth swallowed; was refilled.  Christine said:

“A treat to suck on while we get you cleaned up.”  She placed the crotch of the thong into the open mouth and began to push the cart away.  The cameras installed in the ceiling of both the cell and the hallway captured the event in its entirety.

As she pushed the cart Christine reflected on the chain that had secured the pet.  She addressed the figure being transported.

“You know you're not here to enjoy life.  You forfeited that when you crossed the threshold of this house.  You acknowledged it further by demanding to be diminished.” She paused, then continued “I've got a treat for you.  I'm going to have my pussy sucked today.  You get first turn.  How long do you think you can suck on me?”  The woman's face broke into a grin.  She pushed the fabric away with her tongue.

“All day.  Do I get to suck your asshole, too?”  She asked.

“Yes.  But be careful.  I'm saving my orgasms for later.  You are just to warm me up.”  She answered.  “And you don't get all day.”  The face below her pouted.

“Ummm.  Mistress's pussy and ass.  Thank you.  I don't get to worship you two days in a row very often.”  Helena said.  “Have I done something special?”

“Not really.  You're just convenient.”  The mistress told her.

“Thank you anyway, mistress.”  Helena saw the slightly peeved expression on her mistress's face but chose to ignore it.

They made their way to the showers where Christine turned her charge over to a female slave for cleaning.  She made her way over to the dungeon, or “chastisement room” to look in at the Roscoes having their way with Tuesday.  She watched for a few minutes as the woman danced upside down to the rhythm of their whips. 

“She's going to be fun, that one.”  Christine said to no one.

By the time Christine returned to the showers Helena had been washed and dried; her mouth cleaned, gums scrubbed shiny. 

“Shall this female assist the Mistress?” The slave who had cleaned Helena asked.

“No, I'll take her myself. Go clean her bed and let it air out.”  Christine ordered.

“Yes, mistress.”  The woman hurried off to comply.

Christine pushed the cart with her pet to an elevator; they rode up to the main floor and found a cozy lounging area complete with a comfortable chair designed for mistress worship. She slid the torso onto the bench built under the chair and pushed the shiny bald head up to the proper position.  The ass stuck out the back; the seat bottom was open and designed to slightly separate the ass cheeks, not unlike a toilet seat.  Christine removed her skirt and sat in the seat. She found a remote control for the flat screen monitor that was mounted a comfortable viewing distance away and lifted the wireless keyboard and trackball from beside the chair.  She would have to find something to keep her distracted while the hungry lips and mouth worshiped at their altar.

She logged onto the in house surveillance and recording system and watched the Roscoes work Tuesday over for a few minutes; this certainly wouldn't work.  She found some e-mail that needed attending and began to work.

Underneath, Helena reveled in her opportunity.  Her lips pulled gently at the labia hanging in her mouth.  She noticed that her mistress was already slightly swollen. Perhaps she had enjoyed some pleasure earlier?  While the pussy was quite wet, there was no evidence that a male had partaken of her mistress's delights.  Which was a shame, as she enjoyed the added flavor of semen to her mistress's delicious juices.  One of her joys was cleaning up both of her mistress's holes after she had been ravished by which ever lover - or lovers - she bestowed her charms upon.  Her searching tongue found the hole she was desiring and swiped around inside, reaching as deeply as she could. 

Christine looked down between her legs to the top of the face visible there.  She began her usual harangue. 

“Having fun, slut?”  The mistress asked.  The bald head nodded, the tongue never leaving its duty.  “You know I’m still annoyed that I allowed you to convince me to have you diminished?”  The head bobbed again.  “Against my better judgment I allowed a valuable property to be damaged.   You certainly have a much smaller value on the market; in fact you’re likely to be unsellable. There might be a few whorehouses in the far east that could use you as a display curiosity.  But your maintenance becomes a liability that is greater than your asset value.  So, except for the duties you perform here, you’re pretty much useless.” 

Helena had used an “invitation” from Charles to plead for a similar audience with her mistress.  A long series of sessions had ensued.  The eventual result was Helena’s current condition and a near cessation of such meetings for anyone.  Charles was pissed at Christine’s allowance of such a procedure.  Nevertheless he permitted it since it was his wife - the figurehead director of the place - who had agreed to it.  Christine was grudgingly supported in her decision but Charles made sure that she paid a hefty price for her fiscal mistake.  The modification resulted in a human oddity and an extreme rift in Charles' and Christine’s relationship for a few weeks.  For while everyone in the house thought that Mistress Christine was the supreme dictator of the household; Christine and Charles knew better.  It was Charles that provided the wherewithal that supported the operation; She knelt at his feet in private.  During the weeks after Helena's diminishment not only did Christine kneel, she suffered and occasionally bled.

The maelstrom that was Helena's mind led her to seek her amputations, but it also needed her worthlessness to be reinforced both verbally as well as by her treatment. Degradation fulfilled her.  After all, anyone who could desire such a procedure so desperately must surely deserve it.  Circular logic.  Most of what passed through her mind as logic was at best circular and at worst remarkably self destructive.  Her childhood was so full of evil treatment, trauma and despair that in response and refuge her mind had created parallel identities. One was hostile and self loathing, one was penitent and grovelling, one was a frivolous child, one was darkly demented.  All were submissive and each masqueraded as the same person.

“As a human, you're pretty worthless”  her mistress continued.  “As a toilet you're remarkably expensive.  You do flush yourself, but then you leave behind a mess someone else must clean up.  I guess the horses and dogs think you're better than just being horny all the time.  Have you learned how to take a horse's cock all the way down your throat yet?”  She asked.

The head between her thighs shook negatively.  Tears formed in the corners.  Her worthlessness was being reinforced. 

“We may have to consider some surgical options to widen that portion of your anatomy.  It may cause you to lose your ability to speak.”  The eyes widened at that hint. “But then, other than your screams, you don't really have much to say of any value anyway.  Your screams can become tedious.  I doubt that I will miss them.  You'll just have to grunt.”  Christine didn't really plan any such treatment.  It was the mental cruelty that she sought.  She found it very frequently.

“The Roscoe's will likely enjoy it as well.  They won't have to worry about damaging anything                     when they fuck your throat.  Maybe I'll ask the surgeon if he can leave large lumps of scar tissue in your throat to help stimulate the Roscoe's cocks.  They work so hard.  They deserve a little treat once in a while.”  While the Roscoe's did work hard at pleasing their employers; they also had probably the best position in the place.  All the sex and other benefits of the job, nothing very strenuous considering their size and virtually no responsibility.  For Christine to act as if they were challenged in their duties while the limbless torso beneath her served as a toilet for people and a whore for livestock - who might be further destroyed to better serve as a toy - was a cruel ploy indeed.  A snuffling noise came from the region of Christine's cunt as Helena snorted back a mixture of snot, tears and vaginal juices.

“Don't be such a sissy.” Christine retorted.  “I might even have the surgeon use anesthesia.”  Christine watched as tears poured from the eyes beneath her, the head nodding slowly.  Christine eased and rotated her hips back a bit to better line up her urethra with the mouth serving her.  “Time for you favorite beverage.”  She said and released her bladder once again into the waiting mouth.  The cameras caught every drop as it fell.

Christine used the one-sided discussion to keep her mind off of her bodily sensations while the minutes ticked away.  She knew that Charles would preview the recordings.  He would enforce every second of his command.  The dutiful ministrations kept a steady stream of juices flowing into Helena's mouth.  She swallowed frequently and when her mistress moved to provide clearer access to the pucker the fluid continued to flow, running into her ears and nose; pooling under her pate.  She massaged the anus with her tongue, pushing and probing, relaxing the muscle enough to gain entry into the dark, moist hole.  She at last succeeded and as she did her mistress stopped what she was doing and closed her eyes; leaning back against the chair as she felt the tongue slip in and out, orally sodomizing her. Helena sealed her mouth against the opening and alternatively stuck her tongue as far inside as it could reach and then sucking when she withdrew it.  After some minutes of this she was rewarded with a small nugget that she quickly gummed into a paste and swallowed before Christine realized what she had done.  Christine opened her eyes and looked into the face under her.

“Swallowed without permission, didn't you?”  She stated.  The eyes gleamed in triumph and the head nodded.  “For that I've got a special punishment for you.  I expected you might take advantage of my generous gift you've been enjoying.  So now you're going to provide some entertainment.  Clean me up.”  The mouth and tongue began licking to clean rather than to stimulate.  When she had finished that task her mistress stood, picked up her skirt and dressed. She transferred the body onto the cart and began pushing her out of the lounge.  She stopped  and picked up a telephone receiver at the door, pushed a button and waited for an answer from the other end.

Chapter 9

“Mr. Tanner.  I am on the way with this worthless whore you're supposed to manage.  Please send someone to meet me at the lower door.”  She listened and hung up. They were met by a thirty something male at the door, leaving the lower floor on the side of the stables.

“Thank you, Kenny.”  Christine said. “Is everything prepared?”

“Yes, mistress.” Kenny replied.  “Will you be joining us?”

“Certainly.  I can't wait to see just how long she can hold on.”  Christine responded.  Helena could only lie there and wonder what was about to happen.  Kenny pushed the cart to an area close to the stables.  A suspension beam with hoist was set up, several reflective panels had been arranged to provide additional light to the area under the beam.  Two men holding cameras and another assistant waited.  The cameras were mounted on each man's shoulder and they pressed their eyes to the viewfinders. The red lights on the cameras began glowing.

Helena had difficulty seeing the apparatus from her position so Kenny and Mr. Tanner held her up so Christine could describe the coming event.  The mistress picked up a rubber ball the size of an orange with a ring attached to it.  She showed it to the figure before her.

“This is for your ass.”  She said.  She picked up another one, slightly smaller.  “Your mouth.”  She added.  Then she picked up a pair of “L” shaped hooks with a ring in each end separated by a spreader bar.  The rods were at least an eighth of an inch in diameter. “Your cunt.” She said lightly and saw Helena tremble.  “And these are for your boobs.”  She held up two rings, the inner edge lined with spikes; each spike alternating 1” and 2”. The spikes slanted in toward the center of the circle.  Each ring was cut and joined by a thumbscrew that allowed them to be tightened into a smaller diameter.  Four chains connected each ring to a smaller ring for hanging.  Helena saw the suspension beam above her.  The men arranged Helena in line with the beam and stepped back.

“This may sting a little.” Christine said as she picked up the first spike.  She lined it up with the top of Helena's right labia and began to tread it through the flesh until it popped out just above her anus.  Helena whimpered and gave a moan when the tip reappeared.  She gave a small scream when the second one pushed through the soft flesh. The spreader bar was long enough to open the woman’s pussy.  It gaped wetly in the sunlight.   Christine then placed one of the rings around the woman's right breast and tightened the screw.  The ring drew up and compressed the breast.  The orb began to swell, the spikes digging into the tender meat.  The other breast was similarly adorned.  Christine then put the smaller ball into the toothless mouth.  Then before she pushed the other ball into the waiting anus she asked:

“This is what is going to happen.  We're going to suspend you by lines attached to the balls in your mouth and your ass.  The hooks and rings will be attached to the same lines but the tethers on them will be a bit longer.  So when you get tired of holding a ball with your mouth or asshole, you can rest by hanging from your pussy and your boobs.  But here is the fun part. Once your mouth and ass are available, all the guys that aren't busy get to fuck your holes while you hang there.  Isn't that just great?”  Christine looked up at Mr. Tanner and Kenny. They just smiled and nodded.  Helena looked horrified and looked from person to person, stunned.

“I hope that little treat was worth it.  I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to reflect on it while you're hanging around.”  Christine said.  “This is video will be a great seller. I hope you can last a long time.  The longer you can last the longer the video will be and the more we can make on it.  Would you like some lube for the ball going in your ass?  It won't hurt so much going in.  Of course, it might make it a tad more difficult to hang onto.”  Christine smiled into Helena's face. The woman looked back, her face pale.

“O...O hank...Oo.”  Helena answered around the ball.  She closed her eyes and shook her head.  She realized that this had been set up well in advance of her little bit of misbehavior.  Her mistress was just using that as an excuse to blame her for the torture that would have happened regardless.

Christina picked up the larger ball and watched as the legless ass expanded to accept the ball.  She worked the ball past the sphincter and attached the lines to both the ball and the hooks.  The lovely mistress stepped to the other end and attached the remaining lines.

The two men holding cameras signaled that they were ready.

“Up she goes.”  She said and Mr. Tanner pushed a button controlling the hoist.  The slack was taken up and the torso rose on the cart. Almost instantly a line of perspiration appeared on Helena's forehead.  A similar line sprung up over her upper lip.  Next the area that would have been her armpits, if she had arms, began to drip. Her loins glistened. Rivulets began to run into her naval. Her head began to gleam again.  The fluids from her lady's cunt had dried but the sweat helped to rinse them off.  Her body responded in another way to her predicament.  Christine saw the impaled labia begin to part, aside from the hooks residing in each lip.  They were swollen already from the piercing, but the light glistened off of fluids exuded for another reason.  Christine knelt down and put her mouth close to Helena's ear.

“I bet you really want to let go of those balls so you can feel those cocks fucking you, don't you?” The head didn't move; no sound was uttered. “You want to feel the spikes puncture those boobs. You need to feel those pussy lips stretching and tearing while cocks are pounding your holes.  You want to hang like a piece of meat while each man...each HU-man tears off a piece of your ass.  Maybe literally. After all you're not really a person anymore.  You're a thing.  A living toilet.  A life support system for three fuck holes. You want them to do that, don't you?”  She taunted.  The head gave an almost imperceptible shake “no”. 

They watched as she hung, trembling and twitching.  The cameramen got close ups of each ball, her eyes, the spikes as they pressed; ready to stab into each breast.  She lasted longer than Christine thought she could, giving plenty of opportunity to record each of her points of punishment. 

The scene made Christina wet, her pussy began to drool.  She felt her upper thighs become slick.  She decided to push things along.

Helena hung on, not wanting to feel either ball slip from her grasp.  Her sphincter burned with the exertion, her tongue adding pressure to the grip her jaw held on the orb trapped behind her lips.  She concentrated on maintaining the pressure, ignoring all else, every fiber focused on each end. Then she felt it.  A small pressure against her side.  It left.  It returned soon her other side.  Then her hip.  Then her right breast; pressing a bit of the bulge of her boob against the tip of a spike.  Then she felt it push against her asshole, starting her to swing slightly. 

“NO FAIR!” She thought, but couldn't say anything.  Another push.  She grunted, almost losing her hold on the ball in her mouth.  She heard Christine say softly:

“Looky what I've got...”

She opened her eyes and almost opened her mouth. Christine was standing next to her. In her hand was a red shocking wand.  It looked like a butane fireplace or grill lighter, but the electrodes were exposed. It functioned like a miniature cattle prod, delivering five thousand volt pulses when activated.  Instead of lighting a gas it would light up anyone it touched when the trigger was pressed.  Helena knew that the time for her fucking was nigh.  She felt the end of the device push against her asshole, right next to the ring on the ball.  She felt it start her swinging again.  The swinging would only make the sudden drop and catch all the worse.  On the third push the point held her against the return arc and Helena felt her ass explode.  The ball slipped out and her weight fell onto the hooks spearing her labia.  Her scream released the ball in her mouth and she felt a short drop.   The sudden stop cut the scream off with a gasp. 

Christine was watching; she saw the scream form and start, only to end as Helena tried to breathe.  Christine watched as Helena fell.  The spikes in the rings around her breasts punctured the underside.  The longer spikes pushed against the skin on the top; forming a circle of bumps under the skin, but not penetrating all the way through.  The labia stretched white as if frosted; all of the blood squeezed out by the pressure on the strained flesh.  The pussy gaped open revealing the pink, glistening meat.  Bubbles danced on the surface from the juice she had been exuding just prior to her fall.  Her skin quivered, sweat ran down her sides, dripped from her ass cheeks.  Christine just smiled at the sight.

Helena’s fall was halted at the same instant that her boobs were assaulted by the double ring of spikes waiting to pierce the captive flesh.  Her breasts burned as the spikes dug through the skin. She felt her labia stretch.  Her hole felt like it could easily accept a basketball. For an instant both she and Christine thought that her labia were going to be torn from her body; but despite being pulled out beyond human belief; they held.  The tethers on the labia hooks were attached to the spreader bar, so the spreading was both horizontal as well as vertical.  She felt her cunt gape open.  Her fluids bubbled up and dripped over her asshole which itself was gaping; still strained by the effort to retain the ball. 

Christine knelt next to the head and watched the tears flow over the side of her head and drip to the ground.  She applauded softly and pushed the cart out of the way.

“Bravo.  Good show.  I love the way your belly trembled when I fired the sparkler. Now, would you like a nice hard fucking?”  Christine asked gently.  The mouth hung open; Helena's jaw muscles were exhausted.  She shook her head.

“No.  Please, mistress.  No.  No. Please.”  Helena begged.

“Now, you know that I don't like that word.  Especially from worthless little shit sucking horse fuckers. From insolent legless dog suckers.  From uppity piss drinking toilet sluts.  That's what you are, aren't you?”  Christina mocked.  The head nodded.  “Then don't you think you need a good hard fucking by these nice men who have gone to all of this trouble?”  The head didn't move. “Answer me, cunt.”  The voice turned harsh.  “Don't you deserve to get your holes filled with cum?” 

“No, please.”  The mouth whispered.

“Mr. Tanner.  Can you rig this suspension up to the belly of a stallion?  I think it would be interesting to watch her hang like this with a horse's cock in her mouth while he trots around the paddock until he's tired.  Then we can turn her around and hang her from another one's belly and have him fuck her ass until he's tired as well.” Christine asked the stable manager.

“NO!  NO! Please!  The MEN.  The MEN.  NO HORSES!”  Helena began to scream as loudly as her exhausted throat and strained lungs would permit.

“What did you say?”  Christina asked into Helena's ear.  “What word did you say?  What word that I don't like little shit sucking toilet sluts say?”

“Please MISTRESS!  P...PLEASE!  Let the men fuck me.  Let the men...fuck me.”  She wailed.

“You insulted these nice gentlemen.”  Christina said, indicating Mr. Tanner and Kenny.  “You're going to have to make amends for that.  Beg them to fuck you. Maybe you can convince them to touch your nasty, worthless holes.” 

“Please.  Mr. Tanner. Please fuck me. Please fuck my mouth.  Or my ass.  My throat.  Please fuck my throat.”  She begged.  “Mr. Kenny.  Please.  You like to fuck my asshole.  Please fuck my asshole.  I want to feel your cock deep inside my ass.  I want to taste my ass when I clean it off with my mouth.  Please.  Mr. Tanner.  Sir?  Will you please fuck me?  Instead of the horses?”  Helena was desperate.

“I don't know.”  Mr. Tanner began. “I think it would be right interesting to watch her hanging under Ace's Wild's belly as he fucks her ass.  He likes fucking her too.  I'll bet he could fuck her all afternoon.  He's been loafing the last few days.  He needs a good workout.”  He winked at Christine without Helena seeing it.  “What do you think, Kenny?  Think it would be fun to see how long old Ace can last?  Then maybe let Brickbuster have her mouth.  She's never got the whole thing down her throat. Yet. I bet four or five hours hanging under him giving him a world class blow job might loosen her up to get that hose all the way down.”

“Well, Mr. Tanner.  It would be right entertaining.  But I've got a serious piece of wood.” Kenny answered. “What if we fuck her first?  Then we put her under the horses.  The best of both worlds.” 

Helena dropped her head.  She was lost.  Her mistress wouldn't need the surgeon after all.  And she could be sure that the horse wouldn't have anesthesia.  Nor mercy.  She tried one last time.  She lifted her head and looked at her mistress.

“Please.  Mistress.  I want the men to fuck me.  Hard.  Then I want to clean each cock that's been fucking my ass. Clean it with my mouth.  Then please have mercy.  Please have someone smash my skull with a pipe. Or slit my throat. Then put me under the horses.  At least it won't hurt so much.  Please, mistress.”  Her eyes showed that she was past defeat.

“No.  No pipe.  No killing.  I'll consider not putting you under the horses.  In the mean time, Mr. Tanner, please choose your hole.  Kenny, you take the other one.  Kenny, I believe you're familiar with the cameras?”  She asked.

“Yes, ma'am.” He answered.  She looked at the lead cameraman.  He nodded in assurance.

“Fine.  When the two of you are through, I want Kenny to take a camera and the recording crew take their turn.  While they are having a bit of fun, I want you, Mr. Tanner,” she turned to face the stable manager, “I want you to get on the phone and round up as many swinging dicks as are available.  Tell the Roscoes that this is a priority.  I'm sure they would like a shot at her like this.”

“Yes ma'am.”  Mr. Tanner said.  He looked up at Kenny and grinned.  I'll start in her mouth.  And I'll finish in her mouth.” He bent down close and looked into Helena's eyes. “And I'm going to fuck your ass in between.  I still want to see you and Ace to give it a try.”  The look in his eyes was close to evil.  She closed her eyes and shuddered.

“Oh! Men...”  Christine told them. “Remember, those hooks sticking out of her pussy are sharp.  I hung her that way so her head would be lower than her ass and if she slipped she wouldn't come off of the hooks. The angle helps keep the points away.  So; mind that you don't stick yourself on them.  That might hurt.” Mr. Tanner grinned in response and turned to Kenny.

“Kenny, how about grabbing a couple of those large bottle corks in the tack room.  And while you're there get a bottle of liniment.  I suspect that her muscles are going to sore from all this fucking.”  He told his assistant. Christine grinned.

“Mr. Tanner.  I believe you've got something else in mind for that liniment.”  She said laughing.  He laughed with her.

“Just want to keep her attention. Don't want her to get bored.”  He added.  “She fucks so much I thought she might not focus on what she's doing.”

“Just say “Aces and Brickbuster” every so often.  I'm sure she'll pay attention.”  She turned and stepped away.  She watched as Mr.  Tanner lined up his cock with the open mouth.  With Helena's head hanging down he would have a straight line to her throat.  She turned her head slightly to look at her mistress as she felt the cock enter her mouth and slip effortlessly down into her throat.  She relaxed, breathing through her nose.  Mr. Tanner pressed his groin against her face, paused, and began stroking in and out of her mouth.  His cock had spent many hours in this embrace.  She was starting to relax into a familiar situation.  She felt Kenny push two fingers into her distended cunt and draw out a glob of her lubrication.  He wiped some on his cock and some on her asshole.  She opened her ass for his cock.  If only her labia and boobs didn't burn like fire she could enjoy this. 

The adrenaline and endorphins that flooded her body when she thought that she would spend the day slung under the belly of a stallion provided a little natural relief from the pain from the hooks and spikes.  The endorphins continued to fill her body, enabling her mind to wander.  Her different personalities pushed and shoved each other; the events happening to her body seemed to be happening to someone else.  When Kenny stuck his cock in for cleaning she barely registered the change; she just sucked it into her throat and laved it with her tongue.  She stayed in cruise control until the Roscoes showed up.  Christine watched the almost twins ravage her body for a while.  She knew that they would abuse her sufficiently.  There would be little left for anyone else to enjoy after those two professionals had their way.  She turned and walked away.  She could watch the rest of it tonight as she deep throated Charles's wonderful cock.  She would see what Tuesday was up to, but first, a bite of lunch and a drink.  It was hot out and all the activity had left her thirsty.

Chapter 10

Mistress Christine found Tuesday bent over an arched rack.  Her arms and feet attached to spreader bars, her back bent back sharply.  Tuesday discovered what the unusual apparatus underneath the device could do.  A frame holding blunt pointed metal pyramids pushed her away from the rails of the rack.  The points were spread out; several inches between each one.  Her back was bent almost to the breaking point, the points bearing all of her weight.  The spreaders pulled her arms and feet wide open while stretching her across the points. Her mouth was held open by a spreader gag.  A woman – Lady Beth – sat on a stool focused on the gaping pussy before her.  Tuesday had been curious why she hadn't been allowed to shave her pussy since she began her journey.  She now mightily wished that she had.  Lady Beth was playing with the pubic hair, now grown out sufficiently to grasp with tweezers.  And that was what she was doing.  After having had the “pleasure” of the Roscoe's little game she had been delivered for bodily cleaning.  Then it was time for her depilatory cleansing.  Lady Beth would select a hair and slowly draw it from its pore.  The torment of this became clear after the first half hour.  The rack and points burned into her muscles.  The slow pull of each pubic hair made her twitch.  Thus she added to her own torment.

Christine watched for a while, noticing how Tuesday's eyes would dart around after the root of each hair released its hold on her body. She stepped over to Lady Beth.

“Good afternoon Ms Beth.  How are you and Tuesday this afternoon?”  She asked the woman as another hair drifted to the floor.

“We are wonderful, mistress.  And how is your afternoon?”  Lady Beth replied. Tuesday didn't quite agree with the assessment but didn't bother to disagree.

“Quite interesting so far. I have a bit of a desire.  I want a pussy sucker.  Do you think that cunt on the rack there can manage such an easy chore?”  Christine asked her.

“I would certainly enjoy the pleasure of sucking your delicious pussy, if you would but give me an opportunity.”  Lady Beth answered.  Christine smiled.

“You may get that opportunity.  But I haven't yet had a chance to try this tongue.” She waved at Tuesday. “Her videos certainly indicate that her tongue can find its way around a pussy.  And she does have a penchant for drinking piss.  Have you used her mouth yet?”  Christine asked.

“Not yet.  I was going to strap her face on for a few hours after I finished here.  Would you like me to find the mounting stool so you can try her out while I finish this?”  The Lady inquired.

“Hmmm.  Yes.  I think so.”  The mistress replied.  The Lady Beth located a contraption that mounted on the frame of the rack.  It was a seat not unlike the one she had occupied earlier; only this one mounted on the rack over Tuesday's face and open mouth.  Footrests provided a stable position; the back was slanted slightly back.  A small stool provided an easy step up to the seat.  The spreader gag was removed and Christine stepped up and sat down over Tuesday's face.  Tuesday's head was bent down at such an angle that she couldn't really see her mistress, just her drooling pussy and asshole.

“You may worship at your altar, cunt.”  Christine said to Tuesday. “I wish to see if you are as talented in person as you appeared on video.”

“Thank you, mistress for this honor.”  Tuesday's muffled voice came from under the seat.  She twitched hard as a searing pain shot across both breasts. The pain repeated several times.  Lines of fire stretched from rib to rib, intersecting at her nipples. The pain reflected from the points pressing into her back, shoulders and legs as she squirmed.  Her breasts continued to burn as she furthered tortured herself by moving.

“Who gave you permission to speak, you worthless cunt!”  Lady Beth admonished her.  She had been waiting for any indiscretion, holding a short whip at the ready.  Christine blocked most of the screams with her pussy.

“Nicely done; Lady Beth.”  Christine complimented her senior female trainer. “How about a few matching strokes on her cunt.”  The Lady nodded and stepped to the other end of the rack and delivered three quick slashes across the spread open gash in front of her.  Tuesday twitched and shook again, her screams filling Christine's cunt.  The mistress tilted her head in commendation to her trainer.  “You do nice work.  You may resume your hygienic tasks.”

Lady Beth sat back down in her stool and picked up her tweezers.  She ran her hand across the newly rising welts on the flesh before her.  She could feel the body trembling, noticed that Tuesday's chest rose and fell in shuddering gasps as she tried to breathe through the sopping pussy pressed against her face.  She chose a hair shaft close to the clitoral hood and began her slow extraction.  She smiled as the thighs on either side tightened again.

“Lady Beth.”  Christine began.  “I found Helena chained in her cell this morning.”  The Lady looked up attentively.  “She related that you applied the chain as an annoyance.  Is that so?” 

“Yes, mistress, I thought it might remind her of her position in the household...I should say her bottom position in the household, while she slept.”  Lady Beth answered.

“Well...apparently it didn't work.  She simply put it out of her mind.  Perhaps you could use something more...cerebral to work on her mind instead.”  Christine recommended.

“Yes, ma'am, perhaps she'll respond to a rumor I was thinking of starting.”  Lady Beth responded.

“And what might that rumor be?”  The mistress inquired.

“That this new slut currently feeding at your pussy wants to take her place as the primary worshiper of your lovely and delicious pussy.”  The Lady grinned as she said it.  She saw Tuesday stiffen at the suggestion, so she embellished her idea a bit further. “This one could be used for people while Helena could be moved to the stables exclusively.  And after the amputations you could have matching furniture.”  Tuesday began to tremble.  She didn't dare moan or make any sound at all.  Christine noticed the tension in Tuesday's body and decided to continue the concept.

“I think that you may have come up with something.  These are lovely arms and legs.  And her torso length would be better suited for the floor stand as a door greeter.”  She looked down and addressed the head beneath her.  “Slut! TUESDAY! Stop for a minute.”  The tongue stopped as she listened.  “You haven't had the opportunity to see what the Lady Beth is talking about.  On some days Helena is placed upright on a pair of large dildos and held by a frame at the door of the Great Theater.  There she gives blowjobs and pussy sucks to anyone that comes by.  I think your longer torso would be a better fit.  What do you think?”  There was no response.  Then the fire revisited her breasts.  “I couldn't hear you.  What did you say?”

“THANK YOU!  MISTRESS!”  Tuesday screamed into the pussy against her face.  “Whatever the mistress wishes.”  She gasped as the pain shot through her body yet again.  She had no idea that the other two women were laughing at her distress.

“Thank you, Beth.  I think your idea bears serious consideration.”  Christine smiled as the Lady Beth grinned and knelt, placing her mouth close enough for Tuesday to hear clearly.  “Helena begged that her amputations be done without anesthesia.  But if you behave and learn your duties quickly the mistress might allow you to have it.  My ears still ring sometimes from her screams.”  The Lady could see Tuesday's eyes darting back and forth, tears streaming down her forehead.  Beth sat back down and resumed her task.

Chapter 11

       The Roscoes silently eased into the cell where Tuesday slept.  They turned the lights up enough to watch the sleeping beauty as she snoozed.  The blanket was pulled down to her waist.  She was lying on her side; beautiful, large breasts splayed down, one on the other.  Bruises from her chastisement days earlier showed a mottling of green, yellow, blue and black.  She breathed heavily; her hands, bound to her collar by eight inch chains, were tucked under her chin.  They could see the flat abdomen and curve of her hip.  The freshly defoliated cunt was covered by the blanket, but would have been unseen regardless; it was secured by a chastity belt. Her gorgeous hair fell mostly behind her, one lock framed her face.

       “Good Morning!”  Master Joe said loudly while turning the lights up full.  Tuesday blinked awake, seeing the legs of her escorts - usually her tormentors - standing in front of her.  She braced herself for the expected deluge of urine; but it didn't happen.

       “Good morning, Master Joe. Good morning Master John.”  She answered, careful not to look above their waists.

       “Nice catch.  Did you really recognize my voice or was it a lucky guess?” Joe asked pleasantly.

       “A lucky guess, Master Joe.”  She replied.  He grinned, though she couldn't see it. She started to slide off the bed onto her knees.

       “Well then.  Stand up.”  He said.  She caught her movement and stood rather than knelt.  He turned her around and unbuckled the chastity belt from her waist. “Go relieve your bladder.  Then come strip this nasty bed.  You're living in a sty.”

       She stepped over to the hole in the floor that served as her toilet.  She took a deep breath; the chastity belt was tight enough to restrict her breathing.  Her supercharged libido; the cause of her forfeiting her previous life, had vanished temporarily after her transition to her new life.  But after a few days it had resurfaced and her new owners had her fitted with the belt to prevent her from enjoying any unauthorized orgasms.  That, plus keeping her hands shackled to her collar when she slept insured that her ravenous desires would keep her in a state of sexual frustration.  All the better to train her with.

       She emptied her bladder and returned to the edge of her bed.

       “This thing stinks.”  Joe stated, referring to the bed Tuesday had just vacated. “Strip it and let’s go.”  She removed the bed clothes and gathered them into her arms.  The remnants of the prior golden shower and her freshly fucked, uncleaned ass rendered the linens somewhat fragrant.  The short chains meant that she had to hold them close under her chin, allowing her to further enjoy the aromas. They turned as one and she stepped between them and the trio proceeded down the hall.  The linens were dropped off and she was delivered for a shower and breakfast.  The Roscoes returned to the café area as she was finishing her meal.

       “Time for an examination.”  John told her.  She looked a bit quizzical. “A physical.  Make sure the powers that be are totally familiar with your body.”  She nodded and stood, then fell back in line. 

       Tuesday was seated in a gynecological chair, strapped down, legs spread uncomfortably wide. Lady Beth stood between her legs, a slight smile on her lips.  She pulled a stool up and sat down to examine the widely splayed pussy before her.

       

       “Recognize this?” Lady Beth asked.  She was holding a slightly kinked rod, one end was flattened.  Tuesday shook her head.  “It’s a sound. I guess you’ve never been sounded, then?”  Again, a negative shake.  Lady Beth smiled.  It wasn’t a pleasant smile.  She picked up a tube of sterile lubricant from a cart next to the chair.  She smeared a bit on the sound and put the end against Tuesday’s urethra.  Tuesday cringed slightly as the rod slid into her opening.  She jumped as the sound popped into her bladder.  “Did that hurt?”  Lady Beth asked.  Tuesday shrugged.

       “A little.”  She answered. Lady Beth pulled the rod out and selected another, with a slightly larger diameter. She applied lubricant and inserted this one, quickly sliding it home.  Tuesday jumped more than the first time.  Lady Beth said nothing, just wiggled the rod around, removed it and selected the next larger size.  Again, she applied the lube and pressed it against the opening.  This time however, the hole resisted.  She pressed harder and Tuesday started to rise from the chair.  The straps prevented much movement, but the actions indicated a change of reaction.  Tuesday groaned, but said nothing.  Lady Beth stopped her pressure, leaving the rod in place.

       “Hurt?”  The Lady Beth asked.  Tuesday just nodded, eyes closed.  Lady Beth proceeded to push again, more slowly, twisting the rod back and forth.  The rod began to move.  Tuesday’s body was tensed, straining against the straps.  Drops of perspiration sprang out on her forehead and upper lip.  Lady Beth pushed on, until she felt the resistance at the opening of the bladder.  She watched Tuesday’s face as she held the rod, not pushing yet.  She plunged the rod through and smiled as Tuesday jumped again, straining and twisting.

       “Smarts a bit, doesn’t it?”  Lady Beth asked, smiling.  Tuesday just nodded, eyes still closed.  The Lady picked up a tuning fork, noticing that Tuesday wasn’t watching.  She struck the tuning fork with a reflex hammer and held the end of the fork to the end of the sound.  Tuesday began to quiver.  She was already straining against the straps, now her mouth opened and her eyes opened wide.  She gave a short moan.

       “QUIET!’  The Lady Beth ordered.  Tuesday tried to obey, but the sensations overruled her brain. Unintelligible noises continued from her throat.  Lady Beth removed the tuning fork and pinched Tuesday’s clit between two sharp fingernails.  “I said QUIET!”  She ordered again.  This time Tuesday quieted.  She could understand the pain to her clit.  Having her bladder penetrated and then vibrated was a new sensation that she couldn’t easily process.

       “How do you expect to have a man, say one or both of the Roscoes fuck your pee hole if you haven’t had it stretched a bit?”  The Lady Beth asked.  Tuesday stared at her, eyes bulging.  She shook her head, flinging sweat across the room.  Her hair was damp from her exertions, the strands flinging in strings about her head.   She wanted to speak but knew that it was forbidden.  Her lips moved but no sound came out.

       “Cat got your tongue?  Okay, you can speak.  What do you want to say?”  Lady Beth looked amused.

       “Fu…uck my pee…peehole?  What do you mean?”  Tuesday asked.

       “Your urethra.  Your peehole.  You like to take cocks everywhere else.  That’s the next level.”  Lady Beth answered.  Tuesday fell back, no longer straining.  This was an impossibility.  Besides, the Roscoes were so big they could hardly fit into her ass. She was already exhausted, both physically and mentally.  What had she done?  Why had she taken this path?  But it was too late for second choices.  She didn't see what came next.

       Out of Tuesday's vision, Lady Beth picked up another sparkler, identical to the one that Mistress Christine had used to torment Helena.  She held the tip to the end of the rod and pressed the trigger.  Tuesday's eyes snapped wide, her mouth a gaping hole.  She thought that perhaps her bladder had exploded. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. After an instant she was able to emit a piercing shriek.  When she paused long enough to gasp a fresh lungful of air she started another scream.  A second squeeze of the trigger cut that one off as Tuesday slumped back, unconscious.  She had experienced the effects of a sparkler on her nipples before with similar results.  But the literal shock to her bladder was much worse than anything she had felt before.  

       Lady Beth turned to the Roscoes and said:

       “You fellows are going to have to toughen her up a bit.  She needs conditioning to stand up to life around here.”

       “Okay.  It's a tough job, but someone has to do it.”  John answered, both men grinning at her.  “We'll do what we can.”

       Lady Beth removed the sound, wiped it, and placed it back in the case.  She picked up a pair of slender forceps and began probing at Tuesday’s clitoral hood.  Tuesday started to stir, feeling something happening to her pussy.  Beth slipped the end of the forceps under the hood and moved it to examine the space around the clit. The Lady lifted the hood and separated it from the clit, teasing the clit to swell and extend from its’ hiding place. The forceps bumped and jostled the nub, next she opened the jaws and grasped the tender flesh and pulled on it.  Tuesday again started to rise against the straps as she felt her clit stretched out.  It didn’t hurt all that much yet, but she anticipated a difficult experience to come.  The forceps twisted back and forth; stretching and pulling; not too far, but testing the limits of her tolerance.  She released the clit from the grasp of the forceps and pushed the jaws between the slit and the hood and opened the space again.  She set the ratchet, holding the jaws open and picked up another pair of forceps.  She used them to sort through a selection of shiny, pointed objects lying in a tray of alcohol.  They resembled tiny jacks, the toys that children play with.  These however, were much smaller with sharp, hooked points.  The Lady Beth selected one and held it up for Tuesday to see.

       “They’re called ‘stars’” She said.  “They’ll make you focus to have an orgasm.  You might not like them.”  She smirked at that remark.  She lifted the hood away from the shaft of the clit and placed the star at the base of the tender nub.  She moved the forceps to another spot and inserted another star.  She placed four stars between the hood and the clit and put the forceps down.  Then she placed her palm against the top of Tuesday’s pussy and rubbed it briskly, setting the hooks into the tender flesh of her clit and its hood. Tuesday jerked against her bonds and gasped.

       “See?  It holds your attention, doesn’t it?”  Lady Beth asked rather rhetorically.  The moisture over Tuesday’s eyes and lip returned. Tears moistened her eyes as well.  “The points are curved so they will stay put.  Don’t want them coming out and stinging some poor guy’s cock, now do we?”  She laughed lightly.  She turned to Joe who was smiling.  He shook his head.

       “No.  I think they should stay where they belong.  Tucked up inside her little clit hood.  Up tight and out of sight.”  He joked.  Lady Beth removed the pressure and Tuesday eased back down into the chair. 

       “Now, the mouth.”  The Lady said.  She moved up and pressed her finger on Tuesday’s chin and the mouth opened.  She peered inside and picked up a semicircular dental tray from another cart and pushed into Tuesday’s mouth, testing the fit against the upper teeth.  She removed it and did the same on the jaw.  She prepped a casting compound and pressed it against Tuesday’s upper teeth, let it set and pulled it out; then made a similar casting on the lower teeth.  As she removed the lower tray she remarked:

       “Can’t do a full extraction and plate prep without accurate originals.”

       Tuesday froze at the statement, remembering what The Lady had said earlier.  Was she serious?  Were they getting ready to replace Helena with her?  Was tooth extraction the first step?  She began to shake in fear.  Her eyes darted back and forth, not daring to look into the Lady’s face.

       “Relax.  It won’t happen immediately.  You’ve got lots of training yet.  And they used Novacaine on Helena.”  The Lady informed Tuesday.  The helpless female continued to shake.  She couldn’t believe this was happening.

       A soft chime sounded from somewhere in the room.  The Lady and the Roscoes all looked up.  They knew that this was a summons for the Roscoes to visit the Mistress.

       “Go ahead.  I'll deliver your little darling here to the stables.  She can get acquainted and play with the critters.  You can pick her up there after she's had some fun.”  The Lady Beth told the two behemoths.   They nodded.  Joe told Tuesday:

       “Y'all have fun, now, hear?”  She just looked away mournfully and nodded.

Chapter 12

       Mistress Christine was sitting behind her desk when the two men entered.  She looked up and greeted them.

       “Good morning, Joe.  Good morning John.”

       “Good morning, Mistress.”  They said in unison.  Christine smiled and gave a little shake of her head.

       

       “I'd like to brief you on the plans for Tuesday, at least short term.”  The Mistress began.  “You both have seen the preliminary videos from her previous life?”  Both men nodded. “We've been able to gather some additional information about her.  Not a lot...we couldn't without raising suspicion.  We had an investigator ask around, like he was investigating her disappearance.  People tend to be a bit more forthcoming with a PI rather than a cop.  But she was quite a busy little slut.  And her...mentor introduced her to a variety of kinks that should prove very helpful in her future training.  She didn’t sell cheap.  And I don't want her damaged.  Severely abused, yes, absolutely.  We're going to give her a serious mind fuck.  In fact Lady Beth has already started.  She proposed 'replacing' Helena with Tuesday.  We aren't of course.  But we are going to make her think that it might happen.  And that Helena will be...eliminated.  Helena will be told that as well.  We need both of them to think this.  Helena will freak out, of course.  But she's already mentally FUBAR'ed anyway.  She'll be so relieved to find out that she isn't going to be discarded that maybe she'll settle down.  That's probably wishful thinking.”  Both of the men nodded at that remark.  The way the Roscoes reacted identically was eerie.  Christine gave a little shudder.  Thank goodness they were good natured; other than being deliciously, imaginatively sadistic, that is.

       “The plan - phony plan, that is – is to have Tuesday go through a multiple amputation just like Helena did.  You can show her a little of the videos, but not much.  I don't want her to go completely off the deep end. Give her a glimmer of hope so that she won't give up all hope of life.  Helena, on the other hand, has already been told that her throat will be enlarged sufficiently that either of you could fuck her throat all the way to the hilt.”  With that bit of news the Roscoes turned to each other and gave the other a high five.

       “STOP THAT.”  Christine laughed.  “It's not really going to happen.”  The guys looked disappointed. “I said that this is a phony plan.  Such a procedure would also allow her to accommodate the horses as well. And if she were to be replaced, then Tuesday would become a candidate for the same surgery as well.  We've been teasing both of them about whether or not anesthesia would be used.  What we haven't yet told them is how Helena will be disposed.”  She paused, watching for their reaction.  “The ruse is to have Tuesday present and both watch as a surgeon performs an autopsy on Helena.  Pre-mortem.  Without anesthesia, of course.  The idea is that after her throat has been ruined she won't be able to scream.  Less painful on the spectators that way.”  The two men were placid about the idea, though Joe grimaced a bit at the thought of the screams they had heard during Helena's first set of amputations.  His ears still rang a bit from that.  Christine was uncomfortable even imaging doing such things to human beings; the Roscoes seemed unmoved.  “These guys can be scary.”  She thought, but didn't say anything.

       “I want Tuesday to be conditioned to orgasm only when stimulated both sexually and through pain.  Pain and humiliation, preferably.  The humiliation part might be a little more difficult to attain.  Considering what she did before, I doubt that fucking a Great Dane on the capital steps would faze her.  But I'm sure you'll do your usual best.  An introductory gangbang is being scheduled in the theater in a few weeks.  A gangbang was her introduction into debauchery.  Another will signify her re-birth.  I've got a special surprise for her for the group fucking.  Her appetite for painful sex needs to be ravenous by then.  It's possible that her clitoris might not survive that little party.  Which would leave us with a horny, frustrated; beautiful painslut.  A pity.”  The expression in Christine's eyes indicated that it would be anything but a pity. “She'll need to be kept extremely frustrated but rewarded with an orgasm occasionally.  Questions?”   She looked from one to the other. They looked at each other as well and both shook their heads negatively.

       “No, ma'am.”  Said Joe.

       “None.” John said at the same time.  Christine lifted an eyebrow.  It was a rare occasion that they said something different

Chapter 13

       The Roscoes found Tuesday in the stables, on her knees fellating a stallion.  It wasn't  her first.  Her hair and face showed the rewards of her earlier efforts.  Semen clung in streaks to her hair and dripped from her face onto her magnificent bust. Her eyes were red from crying.  Whether it was from the impact of the horse's cock upon her throat; her gagging on the thick shaft or just her predicament couldn't be determined. Helena was on her cart offering encouragement.  It might have been encouragement.  Helena was describing Tuesday's current activities as well as previous lifestyle in a way that indicated that she thought Tuesday enjoyed it far more than she actually did. 

       “You obviously enjoy sucking horse cock at least as much as dog cock.  Ace has a nice flavor, doesn't he?  I could tell you like Brickbuster.  You drank plenty of him.  Once you finish with another stallion I'll see if we can introduce you to the pups.  They'll like you, too.”  Helena taunted.  She was propped up on a stand.  Her stumped hips rested in a curved base, molded to fit her body.  A metal band around her chest, under her boobs, held her to a post fastened onto a base plate.  Her throat was collared to the post with a chain.  That was superfluous, but always included.  She blew at a fly buzzing around her face.

       “I thought you could catch them like a frog.”  Joe teased Helena about the fly.  “A treat to go with all the semen you drink.”  She scowled at him.

       “I'm just here to keep your new girlfriend company. She seems to have had some experience with sucking large cocks.  Have you been helping her learn?”  Helena asked. She noticed that Tuesday had stopped and was watching and listening.  “HEY!  Who said you could stop?  Ace needs to get his rocks off.  Besides, I heard you were really into bukkake.”  Tuesday returned to her task.

       “I heard that she is your protege, short slut.”  John said to the diminished female, smiling.  Helena raised her eyebrow at the comment.

       “Says who?” She asked.

       “I understand that Lady Beth proposed the idea to the Mistress.  And that the Mistress thought it might be a good idea.”  He watched Tuesday to see if she had any reaction.  He thought that she had stiffened at the suggestion.  “You need to teach her everything you can while you can still talk.”

       

       “What?”  Helena turned her head suddenly to face him, as best as she could.  He was standing slightly behind her.  She had to twist to catch his eyes.

       “Yeah...after your next modification, talking might be a little tough.  And you sure won't be using sign language.”  He chuckled at that.  John was grinning and apparently laughing to himself.   Helena paled.

       “What modification are you talking about?”  Helena said nervously.

       “You know...the one that will let us fuck your throat all the way to the bottom.”  John offered.  Tuesday was watching while she sucked.  Her eyes got wide at this news.  Tears appeared in Helena's eyes.

       “Who...who told you about that?”  Helena asked, her voice quavered.

       “The Mistress herself.  I think she has alternative plans for the both of you.”  Joe watched Tuesday as he said this.  She was visibly shaking. “Of course plans can change. But changes depend on circumstances.”

       “And attitudes. And performances.”  John added.  “The Mistress likes enthusiastic sluts.  You know that.  She -” he pointed at Tuesday “will soon learn it. Of course it doesn't take much to be more enthusiastic than you are, short slut.”  Helena was crying steadily.  Tuesday saw this and her eyes welled up as well.  Fortunately she didn't need to see to suck a horse's cock.  At that moment Ace snorted and quivered, lifting one hind leg.  A blast of liquid filled Tuesday's mouth, choking her.  She gagged and choked.

       

       “Don't you dare spit that out.”  Helena called to her.  “That's your reward.  Swallow every drop, cunt.”  Tuesday tried to obey, but her lungs didn't want to co-operate.  They wanted to expel the gooey substance back out of her mouth.  She swallowed and coughed. The next blast caught her face as much as her mouth.  Her hair was soaked, horse cum streamed down her breasts, the flow continued, not waiting for her to catch up.  Helena just shook her head, distracted from the idea of having her throat stretched and larynx removed.

       “You've got to do better than that, cunt.  That horse deserves better than that.  He deserves better than you.”  Helena sneered at the mess kneeling under the stallion.

       “Think he deserves you, short slut?”  John asked.

       “Fucking A.” Was her reply.  The Roscoes grinned.

Chapter 14

       Tuesday was allowed to crawl out from under the big horse and step to the side.  John used a hose to wash the semen from her head and body.  Flies were swarming around, attracted to the mess coating the beautiful woman.

       Kenny showed up to lead Ace's Wild away.  Before he left, John asked:

       

       “Which one is next?” 

       “Well, she's already had Brickbuster so I guess Dante's Son is next.  He's one of your favorites, isn't he, horseslut?”  Kenny was directing his inquiry at Helena.

       “He's a nice fellow.”  She replied. “He's sweet.  So is his cum.  Cunt over there will like the way he tastes.  He doesn't take long, either.  She'll have plenty of time to visit the kennels.”  Kenny led Ace away and went to fetch Dante.  When he returned leading her next treat, Tuesday got down on her knees in preparation.  She crawled on her knees and elbows over to his cock.  The horse knew from long experience what was going on; his cock was already extending from its' sheath.  Tuesday found it hard to crawl holding her thighs apart.  But the stars tucked into her clit hood reminded her to keep them separate.

       She lifted her bound hands.  The chains attached to her collar prevented her from stroking very far.  When she had mentioned this fact to Helena at her start on Brickbuster, the diminished women just said:

       “Duuhh...”  Tuesday got the message.

       “I don't see how you can get them off without hands.”  She had asked.

       

       “Practice.”  Her instructor had said. “Just like anything else.  Practice, practice, practice.  Fortunately for you we've got plenty of horny animals that are just waiting for you to practice on.  I heard that doggy cum is one of your favorite treats.” Tuesday didn't rise to the bait.

       “I prefer human cocks.  But dogs are okay, I guess.”  She answered.

       Helena was correct, Dante didn't take long.  Soon Tuesday was retreating from under him as well.  Joe hosed her down again.

       “I was tempted to use something other than water.”  He said. “But I figured the dogs might object and try to cover my scent. Though, that might be fun to watch, too.”

       Tuesday shivered, both from the cold water and the thoughts.  They all departed for the kennels, Tuesday pushing Helena to her passenger's direction.

Chapter 15

       Several days later.

       

       Lady Beth watched as Tuesday was marched into her domain; a not so small room off of the “chastisement center” where Tuesday had been abused before.  A number of cabinets lined the walls; similar restraints as in the larger room adorned the ceilings and floors.  The gynecological chair that Tuesday had enjoyed the day before stood awaiting her.

       “Mount up!”  Lady Beth ordered her charge.  The Roscoes stood by watching.  Lady Beth strapped Tuesday down and then pulled up the stool to sit at the captive's crotch.  She picked up the forceps again and lifted the skin of her clitoral hood, examining the installation of the stars. She plucked them out one at at time and dropped them into a tray of alcohol.  She used a spray bottle of alcohol to spray out the area around the clit.

       “SSSsssss.” Tuesday hissed as the antiseptic burned the small sores left behind by the stars.  Lady Beth looked up at her and caught Tuesday's eyes, Tuesday quickly looked away and bit her upper lip. Beth used a swab to wipe the alcohol around and scrub the irritated flesh.  She squeezed a bit of cream from a tube and applied it to the affected skin.  She used the forceps to replace the stars in different locations around the clit.  She grinned at the Roscoes,

       “Can't have an infection, now can we?  It's okay if she has a bit of discomfort from one of you fellows, but not from some nasty microbe.  No one likes a pussy full of puss!”  The lady seemed amused at her own description.  The Rosocoes made faces showing their agreement.  Beth released Tuesday from the chair.

       “Stand.  And walk over to the bowling pins.”  Lady Beth indicated several bowling pins standing by a cart.  “Time for your exercises.  We're going to get you in shape so that Joe and John will enjoy your charms even more. So will the horses.”  That made Tuesday shiver.  Not from the idea of returning to the stables; but doing it as an amputee.  Beth followed her over.  When Tuesday stopped the Lady put two fingers into the slave's cunt.  It wasn't very wet.

       “Hmm.  Joe and John, your assistance, please.”  Both of the men stepped up to Tuesday. “Please display your nice assets, gentlemen.”  The two men pulled their cocks out of their shorts…” You -” she indicated Tuesday, “get on your knees and start sucking cock.”  Tuesday obeyed, expecting some sort of trap.  Which one should she choose first?  She chose the closest one to her mouth and began licking it.  She sucked on it and got as much as she could into her mouth while stroking the other with her hand.  Then she switched.

       “And why didn't you start on mine?”  Joe asked her.  She tensed, knowing that the trap had been sprung.

       “Because mine tastes better.”  John retorted chuckling.

       “Really?  You can do that?  Can I watch?”  Joe replied.

       “Naw, I've got it on good authority.  Right, cunt?”  John asked Tuesday.  She knew she was in a losing situation.  She just shrugged her shoulders and kept sucking and stroking.

       “She knows better than to answer that.”  Lady Beth told them. “She just likes to suck cock.  Any cock.  The closer the better.  Right, slut?”  Tuesday shrugged again.

       “RIGHT, SLUT?”  The Lady growled.  Now Tuesday began to nod frantically.  “That's better.  Lots of cocks.  Lots of cum.  You like cum, don't you?  And fucking.  You love fucking, don't you?”  Again, Tuesday nodded.  “Now let's see.”  Lady Beth stuck her fingers back into Tuesday's cunt; it was open and flowing.  “I thought that would work.  Got her all juicy.  Okay, stop that and squat over that pin.”  She pointed to a boiling pin nearest her.

       “Hey, no fair!”  Joe protested. John complained as well.

       “Put it back in your shorts.”  Beth said derisively. “You'll get a chance to use her when I'm finished.”  Tuesday had complied and placed her pussy over the top of the standing bowling pin.  “Open your cunt and slip the head inside.  Then clamp down on it and lift it up.”  Tuesday tried to obey, but when she lifted it up it slowly started to slip out.  She clamped down harder and stopped it from moving for a minute but her muscles soon tired and it began its slow drop.  Again she bore down, but the pin slipped down and landed with a clunk.

       “That gives us a base line.  By the time we finish with this part of your training you'll be able to walk around all day carrying that thing.”  Lady Beth picked up a small rod, not much larger than a pencil.  She stuck it into Tuesday's pussy and said:

       “Clamp down on that.” Tuesday obeyed, but the rod slipped out as soon as Beth let go. “You'll be able to hold one that size with a ten pound weight attached.  But we have a long way to go.  I'm sure that these two fine gentlemen will be happy to lend you some encouragement while you train.”  The Roscoes grinned.  Lady Beth retrieved a pair of clover clamps with sharp points on the clamp faces that were joined by a chain.  She took another chain with a ring on one end and a spring clip on the other.  She applied the clamps to Tuesday's nipples and slipped the spring clip of the other chain through the ring.  She dropped the loop of the chain around the neck of the bowling pin and motioned for Tuesday to once more squat on the pin.  When her pussy had swallowed the head of the bowling pin Beth snapped the clip on the chain between the clamped nipples. There was just enough length to stretch the chain taut.  She used a pair of handcuffs to secure Tuesday's hands behind her back.

       “Lift.” The Lady Beth ordered.  As Tuesday lifted the pin Beth slipped a flat plate under it that was connected to a digital display.  “Down she commanded.  She touched a button on the display and numbers started to count down.  “When it gets to zero, lift the pin and hold it until it counts back to zero.  Then rest it until zero again.  Then you repeat it.  Understand?”  Tuesday nodded, watching the display.  When it read zero she lifted the pin and held it. 

       “Not so high.  I want your knees to be bent. That will help work on your thighs as well as your kegels.”  Lady Beth said. “If you miss your timing, the Roscoes will remind you.”  She handed each of the men a fiberglass cane.  They immediately began to swish them around.  An ominous whistling filled the room as they swung the instruments.  “The timer will buzz if you're one second late.  That's worth five strokes each.  Two buzzes are ten.  Each.” Tuesday began to perspire, not from exertion but from fear.

       “It's all about performance, right Joe?”  John asked his partner.

       “Yep.  Expectations and results.”  Joe answered.  Tuesday understood the veiled threat.  After twenty five repetitions Tuesday began to show signs of tiring. 

       “Stop.”  Lady Beth ordered.  She unclipped the chain from the nipple clamps and motioned Tuesday to rise.  When she did Beth removed the chain and placed it around a different pin.  She motioned Tuesday to repeat her actions and clipped the chain in place.  Beth moved the pressure plate over to just in front of the new pin.

       “Lift.”  When Tuesday lifted it she realized that this new pin was quite heavier than the first.  As the pin rose Beth slipped the plate under it and watched the muscles in the beautiful legs tense.  “Begin.”  She said. And the exercise began again.

       The first set had been a thirty second lift with a five second rest.  After a series of forty second lifts with the heavier pin the head started to slip from her pussy.  When it pulled on the chain connecting the nipple clamps Tuesday gasped and set the pin down hard on the switch plate.  Beth had been behind her, waiting for this to happen.  She held the sparkler at the ready so that when the pin made a loud clunk on the plate Beth reached out and pressed the point of the instrument into the crease between Tuesday's thigh and buttock.  She fired two quick bursts.  Tuesday jumped and howled, first at the shock and then at the weight of the pin pulling her nipples down almost to her waist.

       “Stop!” Lady Beth growled.  “Stand still!”  Tuesday froze, expecting to hear the pin hit the floor as her nipples were torn off. “I don't want you damaging my equipment.  I doubt that you have any means to pay for replacement.” Lady Beth scolded. Tuesday whimpered with her eyes closed, shivering from pain and fear.

       “Gentlemen.  Five apiece, please.”  Tuesday heard the twin whistles just as lightning struck the backs of her thighs.  Her knees buckled but the pin didn't strike the plate. Again lightning attacked her legs. She managed to straighten a bit before the third stroke. Again her knees bent.  She thought that maybe the pin touched the plate, but didn't hear anything from her tormentors so hoped that it hadn't been noticed. After the final stroke Lady Beth said.

       

       “Rest. Down.”  Tuesday slowly lowered the pin, legs shaking so that she could barely stand.  “Now thank the nice gentlemen for being so easy on you.  I think they're just horny and want an energetic fuck later. I was expecting them to tear you up for that.”

       “Th...thank you Ma...master Joe.  Thank y...you Master John.”  She was truly grateful that they hadn't struck her as hard as she knew that they could have.  She thought that they could amputate her legs with a cane as strong as they were.  Maybe they were practicing?  As if Lady Beth could read her mind she said:

       “Maybe instead of a surgeon these fellows could just pop your legs off.  Think that they could?”  Tuesday nodded, her head bent down, legs bent and still quivering; her eyes were closed. Tears fell to the floor.

       

       

Chapter 16

       The opportunity to acquire the woman now known as Tuesday was an unexpected one; Charles and Christine had no time to formulate a plan of acquisition and transformation.  She was quite the rare find – she wasn’t purchased through negotiation and although she was a volunteer for auction, she wasn’t wanted by the police.  She was the subject of a missing person’s investigation, but she hadn’t committed a crime.  There were certainly people who wanted very much to find her but not for anything the police would be called for. Christine had been enthralled by the redhead’s beauty and poise.  Her price wasn’t cheap, but it could turn out to be a bargain.  The excerpts from the web site that her prior mentor had put up were also intriguing; the woman who would become Tuesday had become a total slut, her pussy dripped from humiliating scenes, she would endure remarkable agony to have an orgasm.  Piss was a delectable beverage to her, she would suck a cock fresh from her asshole, then suck the asshole it was attached to like it was a delicacy.  Her pussy seemed hungry for a fist, her asshole equally accommodating.  Her cock sucking prowess was astounding.

       

       The website had been restricted and was taken down right about the time she was available for sale.  Nevertheless, once something is on the internet, it can almost always be recovered with enough effort and a bit of money.  Along with the various audio, video and still photo uploads recovered from the former website, Charles hired an investigator to probe a little deeper into her private associations.  People who had enjoyed a rather esoteric relationship with a woman who has just disappeared are usually a bit more forthcoming with an investigator posing as a family hire rather than the police.  Interviews with men and women who had sampled, or indeed, feasted on her feminine charms revealed a lifestyle that was remarkable for both her variety as well as her ravenous appetite.  She had truly been a sexual gourmand.

       The specialty of the facility was in transforming an acquisition into a marketable asset; either through outright sale or through “renting” of the asset’s talents.  Videos, of course, also contributed to their value.  Tuesday presented a unique challenge.  She had already begun transforming herself, now the question became: into what?  Christine thought that perhaps her addiction to orgasms could be used to further increase her tolerance and appetite for pain.  She had demonstrated her willingness to accept pain to get pleasure; could she be trained to accept pain AS pleasure?  She had reveled in displaying herself to her web viewers in scenes most people would consider to be humiliating in the extreme night after night.  That, too, could be added to enhance her transition.  The key, Christine thought, was to make Tuesday to be not just the object of the transformation, but an active instigator of it as well.  She had demonstrated a reluctant participation in causing her own pain in exchange for an orgasm in her prior life.  Now it was Christine’s plan to change her reluctance into enthusiasm.  Avoiding becoming what Helena was could be used as an impetus and reward.  Fear is a tremendous motivator…the prospect of becoming like Helena was terrifying.

       In the two years prior to Tuesday’s “death and resurrection” She had awakened to a world of new and exciting (sometimes terrifying) sexual experiences.  She had been first encouraged, actually shoved, into the new lifestyle; she had cuckolded a husband and even contaminated her parents, all due to a libido that once awakened had become ravenous.

       The shock of her new life had temporarily stymied her addiction to sexual satisfaction, but as she quickly became accustomed to her environs her desires re-emerged.  Now sex wasn’t just a demanding adjunct to her life, it was the only reason she existed.  But the sexual activities weren’t for her enjoyment, but for others.  Just as her first mentor had conditioned her by restricting her orgasms, her new owners wished to continue her torment by controlling the availability of her release.  Once again it was to be used as a reward for her own self defilement.

       She slept with her wrists shackled to her collar, sometimes in front, sometimes behind.  Her fingers were never allowed access to the aching nub at the top of her cunt.  She was fitted with a chastity belt that held a cup over that sensitive spot to prevent her from rubbing against anything in her surroundings.  The belt allowed complete access to either of her holes, but her cunt would only receive internal stimulation.  Her clit was left to starve – almost.  Her abusers were careful to stimulate but not over stimulate her “g” spot.  Orgasms were to be desired but denied until the reward was earned.

       Tuesday first met the Toymaker when she was first fitted for her clitoral chastity belt.  She was led by the Roscoes into Lady Beth's little chamber of horrors; where she went for pussy and ass exercises.  She was led in, Lady Beth strapped her down onto the exam seat; then left.

       “Good morning.”  A man of medium height and slim build addressed her. “How are you this morning?”  He asked.

       “Quite well, thank you sir.”  Tuesday replied, not looking at the man.  Her peripheral vision was all she trusted to see him.

       “I'm known as “The Toymaker. Some people simply refer to me as TM.  Some slip up and call me Tim.  That is not my name.”  He told her.  She continued to look down.  “This will be a different experience for you.  By the way, you may look at me when I am with you.  In fact, I insist on it.”  She looked at him in surprise.  “I will not be directly participating in your training...but I will be enjoying the fruits of those labors.  I am an administrator of your...transition.” 

       The Toymaker pulled a rolling stool up between her legs and put a large briefcase on a short table within easy reach.  He sat down and began examining Tuesday, starting with her feet and toes, working carefully all the way to her pussy.  She watched as he examined her, touching her skin, pinching lightly, scratching at small bumps and bruises.  He occasionally looked up at her and smiled.  He spread her labia apart, stretching each one to see how far they would go before the skin started to turn white from the stretch.  She didn't say anything; didn't make any sounds of discomfort.  Nothing he was doing was significantly painful.  He opened the briefcase; the lid blocked her view of the contents.  He picked up some type of instrument and began gently probing at her pussy, opening it and moving the labia around.  His expression was one of a child with a new toy or perhaps a pet.  He glanced up at her and said:

       

       “You may speak freely to me...respectfully of course.  Sort of an informal “invitation”. Master Charles and Mistress Christine are a bit more reserved.  If you ask questions that they find tedious or invasive they may simply cut the “invitation” short.  I, on the other hand, have things I need to do or ascertain and will continue.  I have other ways of redirecting the conversation.”  With that Tuesday felt a sharp point jab her clit, not terribly hard, but enough to make her jump; especially since it was unexpected.  “Understand?”  He asked.  At first she nodded; she had looked away when he poked her.  “UNDERSTAND?”  He asked again and gave her another poke.  She jumped again, but not as much.  Her eyes instantly found his. 

       “Yes, sir.  I understand.”  She answered him.

       “Good.”  He grinned at her.  “I was testing your reflexes.  They seem to work.  It's more fun this way than banging your knee with a rubber mallet.  I have those, too.”  She watched him as he continued to stretch and prod.  He picked up a set of digital calipers and a forceps.  He measured her clit, pulling the hood back, pulling the nub out gently, twisting it slightly, and pulling it back and forth.  He measured it in many different positions.  He proceeded to measure everything between her legs in every direction she could imagine.  His case contained a variety of instruments and devices; most of them she had never seen before and had no idea what they were for. All measurements were carefully noted in a notebook.   She watched as he picked up a urethral sound, lubricated it and introduced it to her small opening.  It slipped in easily, surprising her at the lack of any discomfort.  He withdrew it and smiled at her as he picked up a larger one.  This one too went in without much discomfort.  The next one met resistance and she winced at the intrusion.  He made a note in his book.  The Toymaker picked up an unusual speculum, lubed it and put into her pussy. It had a dial on it, a linkage to each side. 

       “Squeeze down on this.”  She bore down, he made a note.  “Again. And hold it. Again. Again.”  Each time he noted how much pressure she was able to exert on the device and how long the pressure lasted until it waned. He was working on a computer connected version, but it wasn’t ready yet.  He had her do this ten times.  Lady Beth would be interested in the results.

       A conventional speculum gave him access to her cervix.  Again he measured and probed.  He took a small smooth probe and pushed it into the opening of her cervix.  She tensed at the intrusion.  He probed again, going deeper.  The probe widened along its length, opening the cervix as he pushed.  She grunted after a moment.

       “Hurt when I do this?” He asked, pushing the probe in further. 

       “A little.  I feels strange.”  She answered.

       “Mmm hmm.”  Was all he said.

       

       Next, he measured her anus for stretch, gazing into the opening as if searching for a precious jewel, turning the adjusting screw on the speculum until the opening gaped obscenely. He removed it and then stood and walked around to look down at her.

       “I'm not necessarily going to do anything to deliberately cause you pain.  Maybe some things will cause discomfort.  My job is not to hurt you; that’s’ up to Lady Beth or the Roscoes or some other people.  What I do may be uncomfortable occasionally.  That's all.  I evaluate.  I'll also take some pleasure.  Sometimes when I do that, it may be uncomfortable.  And I will like that.  You might, too.  That's part of the objective. You are a most incredibly beautiful woman.  I thought so the first time I saw you, four or five years ago.”  At this bit of news Tuesday stiffened.  Her eyes widened in astonishment.  “No, you haven't met me. In my previous life, well actually I still have part of my previous life; I worked in the aerospace industry.  To a much smaller extent I still do.  You and your team came through my company on an observation visit prior to designing a new facility.  I was experiencing some...difficulties...of a personal nature.  My partners and I decided that it would be a good idea for me to reduce my profile in the company a bit.  Not long after that I left my position and later arrived here.  I also met your old mentor briefly.  A real estate thing: marketers and investors, buyers and sellers.  I later obtained the password to your website as well.”  He watched her reaction.  She blushed and squirmed, to his satisfaction.  “You’re blushing.  I’m surprised, considering the things that you've done before an audience. You seemed reluctant the first time you sucked the cock of a Great Dane…but you looked like you enjoyed it shortly after you got started.  The audience also looked like they enjoyed it.  Except for the older couple.  I take it that they weren’t into sex shows?  Or just not into doggy sex?”  Tuesday blushed even more as she shook her head “no”.  She remembered the night vividly.  The Toymaker enjoyed refreshing her humiliation.  He was a stranger to her, yet he knew of her “secrets”, if one who had performed on-line for thousands could have such secrets. “I didn’t know that Christine was bidding on you until it was over.  You have no idea how delighted I was when I found out.  I enjoyed watching you on-line.  I’m going to enjoy you more in person.” 

       Tuesday had started dripping soon after he had begun manipulating her pussy, now her opening gaped and poured.  Her musk was redolent in the air.  The Toymaker stuck two fingers into the hole and scooped out some of her lubricant and spread it over her asshole then plunged the fingers inside.  He spread them apart and sawed them in and out, back and forth; testing the resiliency.  He was going to enjoy using that hole.  While doing this he asked her:

       “You got used here a lot before. I know you've taken fists.  How do you like the Roscoes back here?”  His question was meant to reinforce her discomfort.  It made her all the wetter. 

       “They…they are…big.  It hurts.  Sometimes if I’m really excited it’s a good hurt.  But it still hurts.  I’ve never seen men that big. They're bigger than the hands I was used to.”  She answered.

       “Lady Beth will get you used to them.  If you don’t get used to them…then it will just hurt.”  He informed her.  He smiled at her, but it wasn’t really a friendly smile.  More like carnivorous.

       The Toymaker got up and pulled the table around with him as he moved up to her chest.  He lifted her beautiful breasts one at a time, squeezing, pulling, pinching.  She couldn’t tell if he was doing it for examination purposes or because he just liked it.  Actually, it was both.  He could have been gentler...but where was the fun in that?  He measured each breast, each nipple, and each areola.   He twisted the nipples, pulling and stretching, measuring all the while.  He made notes in a notebook on each dimension.  He laid her down flat then used a scale attached to a toothed alligator clip fastened to her nipple to determine how much force it took to stretch each breast.  He compressed them and measured the force necessary to obtain the greatest flattening. She felt like she was having the mammogram from hell.        

        Finally he seemed to be finished; he raised her back up and returned to the stool between her legs.  The flow hadn’t abated.  He had placed a small bowl under her ass to catch the drool.  He sat it aside and moved closer to her pussy.  Since she had come fresh from the shower she was clean; at least as clean as she could be after leaking at least a cup of juice into the bowl.  Her fragrance was intoxicating.  He pulled her labia apart and looked at her as she watched him.  He grinned, this time lasciviously. He leaned in and licked her clit twice before capturing it with his lips, pulling and flicking it with his tongue.  She stiffened again, pushing against the straps, trying to put more of her pussy into his mouth.  She pressed her head back against the headrest and clenched her eyes shut.  He nipped her clit with his teeth.

       “LOOK at me!”  He ordered.  “Always look at me!”  Her eyes snapped open.  “You do NOT have permission to cum.  Understand?”  She nodded and muttered through clenched teeth

       “Yeesss…yes…sir.”  Moisture broke out on her forehead and upper lip. He licked again and sucked some more.  He felt her start to shake and he stopped.  He picked a small hand towel from his case and wiped his mouth.  He stood and walked around to her head and looked carefully at her.  Her eyes were glazed; perspiration covered her face and chest.  She looked up at him.

       “Sir?” She asked.

       “Yes?”  He replied.

       “May I…may this…slave suck your cock?”  She inquired.  He smiled and unfastened his belt and pants, pushing both his slacks and boxers down to the floor.  His cock was rigid.  Until her arrival and meeting the Roscoes she would have considered him to be large.  Now, he was not so impressive. Still, he wasn’t small.  He stepped closer to her and she stretched her neck to reach him with her tongue and lips.  She sucked him into her mouth, taking him all the way until her lips reached his abdomen.  She swallowed and worked her tongue against the underside of his shaft, sucking hard.  He felt like she was going to pull him inside out.  It was an interesting feeling.  He stood for a few minutes; then he pulled up another taller stool and let the back of her chair back down.  He returned to her mouth.

       “Sir…may I enjoy you for a while?”  She asked.

       “Probably not as long as either of us want.  But we’ll do this again.  Many times again.”  He answered.  She smiled at him.

       “Thank you, sir.  I’ll try to make it last.”  She proceeded to work more slowly, moving her head, working her tongue and lips.  She nibbled on the head and swirled her tongue around it, then plunged her mouth down, taking it into her throat.  He had never had a better blowjob.  Not even close. She fucked her throat with him, finally he could resist no more. He thrust into her throat and spasmed, blowing spurt after spurt down her gullet.  She never had the chance to taste it.  As he pulled out she licked and sucked the last few drops and licked her lips.

       “Thank you, sir.  I enjoyed that.”  She told him.

       “Then that makes two of us.”  He grinned at her.  He stepped back to the bowl on the table and picked it up.  “Open wide.”  He told her.  She didn’t know why he asked, but she did as she was told.  He tipped the bowl and poured the thick, slimy liquid into her mouth.  “Down the hatch.”  He told her.  She swallowed, watching his eyes.  She licked her lips and smiled back at him.  She was going to be a LOT of fun!

       

Chapter 17

       The Toymaker put away his tools, closed the briefcase and gave her pussy a sharp spank.         “I’ll see you in a while.  Lady Beth has a few things to do now.”  He smiled widely at her and winked.  She pursed her lips and blew a kiss at him.  She hadn’t had an orgasm, but it had been enjoyable.  She was literally quivering with desire.

       The Lady Beth came back in and sat on the stool between her legs.

       “Whew!”  She exclaimed.  “Your name is wrong.  It should be Lucy.  As in Juicy Lucy.”  Tuesday blushed yet again.  “I know that the Toymaker can be fun but you must have had a blast.”  The reddening deepened. Lady Beth was enjoying this; it was part of the conditioning.  “You are a much bigger slut than we had anticipated.  We knew that you would fuck anything, anywhere, anytime, but I had no idea you juiced up like this.  Did you ever accost men on the sidewalks and demand to suck their cocks?”

       “No...no Mistress.  Never.  I was always told where to go and whom to fuck.  Or they came to see me.  But I could never refuse.  Then again, I never wanted to.  Once I had been...converted, you might say, I enjoyed it immensely.” Tuesday answered.  “I love it.”

       “That's fine.  But here you have to earn it.  Or face the consequences.”  She looked at Tuesday, who wasn't looking back, as ordered.  Her face showed her reaction to the “consequences”.  “Good.” Thought Lady Beth.   The Lady Beth turned to a young house slave who had accompanied her into the chamber.  The girl, in her twenties, had been silently standing by, watching.

       “Towel.” Lady Beth said to the girl, who quickly fetched a towel for her mistress.  Lady Beth wiped the spread open pussy before her, scrubbing around the clit, pulling back the hood and cleaning around the nub.  She noticed Tuesday close her eyes and bite her lip.

       “NO orgasms.  Understood?” The Lady directed.  Tuesday nodded.

       “Yes, Mistress.”  She replied.

       “Piercing kit.”  The Lady said to the slave.  The girl scurried off to a cabinet and returned with a wide plastic box.  Tuesday looked startled and watched as the Lady Beth set the box on the same table that the Toymaker had used and began to put on a pair of latex gloves.

       “I know you're not latex sensitive.  I saw you fuck yourself with a variety of rather large toys on screen.  After those things I don't know why you complain about the Roscoes.” She told the bound woman, sorting through some of her tools. She wiped the labia with a betadine sponge, waited and then wiped most off with an alcohol soaked wipe. She picked up a sterile marker with one hand and stretched out the labia with the other, examining both sides.  Four marks were made on each lip, the forceps applied and the piercing needle was pressed through.  Bars were inserted into the piercings.  “I'll start stretching these later.  She picked up an alcohol swab and cleaned the top of Tuesday's pussy, wiping all over the clit, then picked up another and wiped the inside of the area between the hood and the clit itself. “Now for the fun part.”   Lady Beth adjusted the legs even wider, spreading Tuesday until she felt her hips about to pop.  She picked up a pair of looped forceps and applied them to the upper section of the clitoral hood.  She then picked up a long, hollow piercing needle and spoke again to Tuesday.

       “This will sting.  Enjoy it.”  She said.  Lady Beth pulled the hood up, stretching it away from the clit.  The point of the needle was placed under the clit, above the urethra. She pushed the needle through the flesh, hearing the muted gasp and hiss of air between clinched teeth. The point of the needle passed deep, through the root of the clitoris, eliciting a short scream from Tuesday.  Tears began flowing down her cheeks. The point appeared, poking under the skin above the top of her pussy.  Another push and it popped out.  Tuesday released the breath she had been holding with a rush.  A curved bar with a ball attached went through the hole and another ball screwed onto the end.

       “It's called an “Isabella” piercing. It goes through the shaft of the clitoris, deep inside.  That's why it stings. This bar is smooth.  I'm not going to use the rough one until the piercing heals.”  The Lady Beth told her.  The Lady put the forceps on either side of the clitoral hood, inside the inner labia.  The pinching was tight against the crease.  She secured the forceps, drawing another hiss from Tuesday.  Gloved hands picked up a shorter curved hollow needle.  The point was pressed against the tender flesh and slowly pushed deep inside, producing a deep hood piercing.  The needle went close enough to the bar already inserted to rub it, which is what she wanted. She inserted the point of a ring into the point and followed the needle back through.  Spreading pliers held the ring while a ball was screwed on.  Blood flowed freely from the deep piercings; the ring and bar could rub against each other when they were moved. Lady Beth paid little concern, simply picking up pairs of alcohol soaked pads and pinching the flesh between them.  The pressure forced alcohol into the fresh wounds.  Tuesday stiffened and moaned slightly, her lips drawn tight across her teeth as she sucked air through the small slit of her mouth.  More pads were required to finally stem the flow.  Lady Beth picked up a small box of styptic powder and sprinkled it around the ring and bar where they passed through the flesh.  She moved the table around to the upper end of the chair and drew up the stool that the Toymaker had enjoyed. 

       

       The Lady Beth wiped out the navel; first with a pad, then with a soaked ball and the forceps.  The looped forceps pinched the top of the navel and soon the dimple was adorned with jewelry.

       Tuesday watched as the Lady Beth held the right breast, squeezing it and manipulating it such as the Toymaker had done.  She produced a small ruler and laid it across the nipple, measuring the width of the areola.  She then wiped the area with another alcohol pad and carefully made a spot on either edge of the areola, marking the position for a horizontal piercing.  Again the forceps were applied, this time a larger gauge needle was selected.  As the point was placed against the dark pink skin, Tuesday accidentally looked into Lady Beth's eyes as the Lady looked into hers.  The Lady grinned at her and began to slowly push the needle through.  The Lady looked down to be sure that she was pushing the needle straight across.  She took her time, knowing that it would hurt all the more.  As the point reached the other side the skin began to stretch, showing the point.  Lady Beth paused, savoring the pain that she was causing before increasing the pressure enough to break through.

       “Uhhh...”  Tuesday moaned, and bit her lower lip.  A large ring was installed and the Lady pulled the table around to the other side.  Tuesday watched, knowing what to expect.

       “Would you prefer that I do this one fast, or slow?”  The Lady asked.

       “Fast, please, Lady Beth.”  Tuesday responded.

       “You wish!”  Lady Beth grinned at her.  Tuesday caught the grin out of the corner of her eye.  She wasn't surprised.  The process was repeated, even slower this time.  The pain certainly wasn't as bad as the “Isabella”, but it was the anticipation and the tensing before the actual piercing that amplified the pain.  As the ring was secured Lady Beth noticed another tear trickle from the corner of each eye. 

       The Lady Beth returned to the stool at the juncture of the beautiful thighs and noticed that the piercings had completely stopped bleeding.  She used a sterile wipe to clean up and began unstrapping her victim.

       “Time for exercises.”  She told Tuesday.  “Sheila here will run them today.  She will tally up all infractions.  I'm sure there will be some.  Then she will lead you through a series of other exercises and some yoga.  We want your body to be in excellent physical condition.  And it should especially be extremely limber.  Flexibility will be critical.  Can you lick your own cunt?”  She asked Tuesday.  The woman shook her head.  “Well, we'll see if we can improve on that.  It's a rare talent; one that many people like to watch.  You've been watched before by many, it will be something new to add to your repertoire.  The Roscoes will see to your punishment later.  Then you'll have another visit from the Toymaker.  You have a busy day ahead of you.”  The Lady Beth turned to her slave assistant:

       “You know the regimen?”  The girl nodded, looking down as always. “Then proceed.  If she bleeds, spray the area with the alcohol bottle.  If it persists, use the styptic powder until it quits.  While you're waiting for it to quit she can suck on your cunt. You have permission to cum...she doesn't.  Don't leave her alone.  If you need to piss, use her mouth; she likes it.  In fact, do it anyway.”  With that the Lady Beth took a collar, locked it around Tuesday's neck and locked it to a thin stainless steel cable hanging from the ceiling.  The cable ran up to a pulley mounted on the ceiling then over to another at the wall, then down to an electric winch at waist level.  A remote control allowed enough slack to reel out so that Tuesday had enough to move around.

       

Chapter 18

       The girl retrieved the timer and pressure plates and gathered the bowling pins.  A white board and marker was setup on an easel close by. The alligator clips were attached to her nipples vertically, the fresh piercings burned at the abuse.  This would provide even more impetus to succeed.  The lifting proceeded, only this time her anal sphincter was challenged first.  There had been discussions about whether to stretch her rectum until failure, necessitating her always having to wear either a butt plug or a diaper. The humiliation of such a condition was desirable.  It was decided however, that for hygienic reasons, as well as the pleasurable accommodation of cocks smaller than that of the Roscoes; that instead she should be trained to grip an anal visitor with the same force as a vaginal one.  The Roscoes also preferred that she be kept unbroken.  That way they could hurt her more when they enjoyed her ass.

       Tuesday passed the first set of lifts with her asshole without demerit.  The nipple piercings oozed blood from the pressure of the clips alone.  Sheila sprayed them a few times, but they continued to ooze.  The pussy lifts were a different story.  She had only managed a few lifts when the Isabella and deep hood piercings began to drip.  The pain and strain of holding the head of the bowling pin was too much for her.  She was doing only an inch lift but the pin slipped to the plate. She sobbed as Sheila made a vertical mark on the board.  Sheila went to a cabinet and brought back a long pad.  She placed it behind Tuesday's feet and unreeled more slack in the cable. 

       “Lie down.”  She said.  Tuesday obeyed then made a mistake.

       “How long have you been here?”  She asked the slave.  Sheila didn't reply.  She stepped over to the board and made four more marks next to the first one, crossed all with a diagonal line and drew another crossed block.  She stepped back and looked into Tuesday's eyes and said:

       “Silence.  Unless permitted.”  Tuesday paled, understanding what the lines meant.  The Roscoes would have some fun today!

       Tuesday lay down on her back, trembling with new fear. It wasn't just about the next punishment but what it might lead to.  Sheila sprayed, paused and then wiped the bleeding areas.  She applied pressure for a few moments, then gave up and wiped them dry and sprinkled styptic powder generously over the piercings.  She then knelt down, straddling Tuesday's head facing her feet and spread her own labia.

       “Open.”  She said.  When Tuesday opened her mouth and tipped her head back Sheila filled the cavity with urine. “Flush.”  She told Tuesday.  Tuesday blushed and complied, reopening her mouth.  Another fill, another flush.  “Wipe.”  Tuesday licked the opening clean.  “Tongue fuck me first.”  She felt the tongue slide into her, watching the piercings to make sure that the bleeding was diminishing.  Tuesday tasted the slickness emanating from the girls pussy.  Sheila certainly didn't flow like Tuesday but her volume increased as the tongue laved and probed.  She enjoyed sucking a wet pussy almost (but not quite) as much as sucking a hard cock.  There wasn't usually a sudden reward at the end like a man produces; but at least she got to slurp all along.

       The bleeding had stopped so Sheila turned around and looked down into Tuesday's eyes.

       “Make me cum.  But not immediately.”  She instructed.  Tuesday began to nibble and suck at the clitoris over her mouth.  She smiled up into the pretty face above her, watching as Sheila straightened up and thrust her pussy harder against her mouth.  Tuesday stopped and just licked the bud very slightly; enough for Sheila to know that she hadn't quit, but not enough to get her over the edge.  Sheila's knees spread out a little more, settling hard on Tuesday's face, pinning the head firmly to the pad. That was fine with Tuesday.  She enjoyed being the captive, forced to suck, having no other choice but to pleasure this pussy on her face, either swallowing or drowning.  She took her time, drawing as much pleasure from the act as she was giving.  Her fingers found their way to the bar of the Isabella, Sheila not able to see what the fingers were doing.  Each touch felt like lightning.  The ring produced similar sensations.  The pain was exquisite, like wiggling a loose tooth, but a hundred times more.  She couldn't stand to touch it.  She couldn't stand not to.  Sheila at last shook and came, but as she was recovering she noticed that Tuesday also was shaking.  She turned her head and saw what had happened.  Tuesday had cum as well.

       “SHIT!”  Sheila exclaimed, scrambling off of Tuesday's face.  Startled, Tuesday put her hands on her sides.  Sheila was pissed.  She strode back and forth, Tuesday could hear low mutters coming from the slave as she paced.  Finally she stopped and went to the board.  She drew another crossed block next to the first ones then moved her hand to the other side of the board wrote “Sheila” and under it drew an additional crossed block.

       “STAND!”  She commanded loudly to Tuesday.  Tuesday obeyed, hanging her head.  But heavens, it had felt SO GOOD!

Chapter 19

       Timing is everything and Sheila's was perfect.  Perfectly bad, that is.  Because at that moment the Lady Beth arrived.  Sheila didn't know that the Lady had been monitoring their activities remotely.  She didn't need to know.

       “Well.  What seems to be going on here?”  The Lady Beth asked brightly, knowing all.

       Sheila hung her head. 

       “She came.  I'm sorry.  I failed you.”  Sheila pointed at the board.  Fifteen marks on one side, five more under Sheila's name.

       “Hmm.”  The Lady said.  She glanced at the contrite women. “So you have.  Looks like the Roscoes are going to have a bunch of fun today!”  Sheila and Tuesday both cringed at this news.  The Lady turned to Tuesday and said:

       “Chair.  I want to check the piercings.”  Tuesday complied, Lady Beth strapped her down.  The areas were once more sprayed with alcohol, and then the Lady found some Betadine swabs and painted her pussy and nipples brown.  “It's not very pretty, but it'll wash off eventually. She touched the bar through the clit and Tuesday jumped.  “I thought you’d like this.  Made you cum, didn't it?”  She asked her captive.  Tuesday nodded and replied:

       “Yes, Mistress.”  Tuesday's eyes were closed.

       “Have you ever had an orgasm from pain before?”  The Lady inquired.

       “No, mistress.  But this time I was drinking Miss Sheila's cum at the same time.  I had never had such an opportunity before.”  Tuesday answered.  This was music to the Lady's ears.

       “You've never felt pain while eating a pussy?”  The Lady asked.

       “Not like this, Mistress.”

       “And this gave you an orgasm?”

       “Yes, Mistress.”

       “What was being done to you the last time you felt pain while eating a pussy?”

       “My ass was being cropped, Mistress.  It felt very different.”  The Lady Beth paused, thinking about this.  Perhaps the Mistress Christine had been spot on!  The Lady went over to a wall phone and pushed a button.  After a minute she said “Time?”  She waited for a response. “Okay.”   She replaced the handset and walked back over and began to unfasten the straps holding Tuesday to the chair.  She turned to Sheila and said:

       “Your turn,” pointing at the chair.  Sheila pressed her lips together hard and stepped over to the chair and sat down.  She placed her legs onto the pads and feet into the stirrups while the Lady strapped her down.  She opened the legs wide and pulled the stirrups close, bending her knees.  This forced her ass up as well, exposing her cheeks as well as the pucker between.  She then pulled a pair of cuffs and a chain from a cabinet and fastened Tuesday's hands behind her back and pulled them up, attaching the chain to her collar.  A quick press of the remote and Tuesday found herself standing on tip toe, struggling to breathe.

       A moment later the Roscoes appeared.  They surveyed the scene and glanced at the board.  When they high fived each other, both Sheila and Tuesday paled.

       Master Joe stepped over and looked at the girl strapped to the gynecological chair.  He examined the straps and position then he leaned the chair further back and grinned at Lady Beth.        “Our choice?”  He asked her.

       “Your choice.  Five apiece.”  She replied.

       “And dessert?”  Master John asked.

       “Of course.”  She answered.  Sheila moaned.  “Two more apiece.”  She snapped at Sheila. The boy’s grins got even bigger.  Master John stepped over next to his partner and leaned over to get close to the girl's face.  She had to press her chin into her neck to keep from looking at him.  He said slowly:

       “We've...been...waiting...for...this.  You...are...truly...FUCKED!”  Master Joe clarified:

       “Well.  Not YET!  But you will be!”  They high fived again.  Tears started trickling down Sheila's cheeks.

       They each picked fiberglass canes from a cabinet and gave them some test swings.  Their ominous swishes sizzled through the room.

       “Who's first?”  John asked.

       “Ahh, you're the old man, you go first.”  Joe answered.  John was two months older.

       “Suits me.”  Said John as he lined up beside Sheila's right foot.  He laid the cane across Sheila's ass, the rod bisecting her anus.  He grinned up at his partner then grinned at Sheila.  She was looking down, as usual.

       “Look at me.”  He told her.  As she looked into his eyes she saw that they twinkled with devious delight.  His eyes never left hers as he swung the cane back sharply, the rod flexing at the return from the backswing, landing precisely on the pucker.  Sheila tried to move, to jump, to explode.  But all she could do was scream.  And she screamed twice more.  The Lady bent over to the screaming girl’s ear and said loudly:

       “Two more.  Apiece.”  The scream became a whimper then Sheila began to shake, her eyes clenched shut.

       “Look at me.”  John said gently.  She opened her eyes and saw him cock his head; then she remembered the protocol.

       “Thank you, Master John for my correction.  Will you please correct me again?”  Her tone was pleading, though she really didn't mean it.

       “Why, certainly Sheila cunt. My pleasure.”  He meant it.  He lined up on the same spot.  A blister all the way across her ass and through her anus had already formed.

       “This one might sting a little. Keep watching me.”  He said, amused.  It did.  She managed not to scream, though the Lady Beth couldn't see how.  Sheila's eyes bulged, as did her cheeks.  She shook and actually twisted slightly in her straps.  She managed to gasp out her request.

       “One more for good measure.”  She met his gaze, tears pouring down her cheeks.  A sizzling swish, a sharp crack and Sheila passed out.

       “Tisk, tisk.” John remarked. 

       A wave of some ammonia salts revived the girl, as she regained her senses she repeated the correction mantra.

       “Nicely done.  You avoided an extra.”  He turned to face the Lady Beth. “I do believe she's learning.”  He stepped around in front of her.  “Now, that was three.  Six left, I believe.”  Lady Beth nodded.  He lined up the cane on her left labia.  He glanced into her eyes and before she could blink the stroke fell.  Instantly the labia began to resemble a purple balloon.  She sobbed out her request. The right labia came next.  She could barely get the mantra past her parched lips.  He reached out and pulled the now dry pussy open, spreading the swollen lips to provide access to the soft flesh inside.  Everyone knew what was coming.  Three of them waited with anticipation.  Two waited with dread.  He lined up on her clit, sawing the rod back and forth.  When he looked into her eyes this time he didn't lift the rod.  He slipped it down and gave a full roundhouse swing, landing on the tender bud but not stopping there, but following through so that the full surface of the rod not only compressed the clit into her Mons, but wiped through it, pulling the bud back out.  Again, darkness claimed her.

       “Follow through.  Always follow through. Just like a good golf swing.”  He said to nobody in particular.  The Lady gave her a few minutes before reviving her.  She seemed dazed when she came back around.  John stepped up to her side and waited for her to remember her request.

       “Certainly my dear.”  The rod crashed into both breasts, right across the nipples.  The breasts were crushed with the force of the impact.  Her breasts were nowhere close to being as large as Tuesday's...but then few women were. A blister rose halfway across both breasts, the nipples bulged unevenly like a pair of lopsided cherries.  Before she could speak the last two strokes fell in the exact same spot.  She was breathless for a few minutes; finally she said her thanks.

       “Damn, boy.”  Joe exclaimed.  “You took all the best spots first.  I'm going to have to hit her even harder just so she'll notice them.”

       “Bitch, bitch, bitch.  Always complaining.  Just do the best you can, young un.” John jibbed at him.  Joe didn't draw it out like John had.  There wasn't any reason to.  He simply wanted to deliver the punishment and start fucking her – their dessert.  He delivered his strokes to the same spots as John, pausing for the request, waiting for her breathing to return to normal.  He didn't care if she looked into his eyes; he was saving that for later.  Sheila passed out twice more.  She almost forgot the request once but remembered just in time to avoid extra strokes.  She didn't scream, she didn't have enough strength. 

       After he was finished with Sheila, Joe walked over to where Tuesday was hanging.  Lady Beth had loosened the cable slightly when she noticed that Tuesday was turning purple.  He put a massive finger under her chin and said quietly:

       “Look.”  When she looked into his eyes he said “You've got fifteen coming.  They are going to hurt.”  She trembled under his hand.  “Sheila owed us, so we were a little bit rougher than we'll be on you.  Just a little.  You don't have to thank us.  You haven't been trained to that yet.  We'll take care of you after we've had dessert.  You can clean up after we finish with her.”

       “Thank you, Master John.”  She said. 

       “Two more.  I'm Joe.”  He grinned at her. She slumped onto the cable, punishing herself.

Chapter 20

       When Joe turned around he found that the Lady Beth had unfastened the straps securing Sheila to the chair but that she had made no effort to move.  She hadn't been told to; she could hardly move anyway.

       “John,” Joe asked “Do you think she looks more like a swinger or sandwich meat?”

       “Hmm” John responded. “I think she would swing well for a while.  Then we could turn her into pressed ham.”  Joe grinned at that.

       “That'll work for me.” Joe replied.  He went over to one of the many cabinets lining the walls and found a swing designed for sex play.  It would be play for normal size people.  With these two it became punishment.  He unpacked the swing and hung it from one of the ceiling hoist hooks.  John motioned to Sheila to get up.

       “Up and at it. Time for dessert. Well, we're having dessert.”  John told her.  Sheila gingerly climbed out of the chair and walked slowly over to the swing.  She was still a beautiful young woman, but the effects of the canes had temporarily altered her appearance.

       Her breasts were already turning several shades of purple.  Vivid red streaks ran across her chest from one side to the other.  Her nipples were swollen, irregularly shaped bulbs attached to her beasts.  Her pussy was also swollen, one labium slightly larger than the other, also decorated with stripes that ran from her asshole and ending halfway to her navel.  She was beginning to purple out to her thighs. By tomorrow the tops of her thighs would show purple as well. The larger labium oozed droplets of blood.

       She stood while Joe held the straps of the swing open.  John picked her up effortlessly and put her into the cradle.  The swing was mainly straps with a flexible seat.  A spreader bar kept the straps untangled and provided a connection point for the ankle straps.  It was a variation of several designs available commercially but the finished design was a creation of the Toymaker.  John strapped her wrists to the spreader, adjusted the straps so that her legs were widely spread and her knees drawn up close to her chest.  Her head was lowered so that it was at the same height as her cunt and ass.  John adjusted the height with a remote control, putting the head of his cock against her cunt and touching the remote buttons until she was just right.

       “Wait.”  Said the Lady Beth.  “She's a bit messy.”  She pointed to the blood oozing from her labia.  It slid down to her anus where it pooled slightly before dripping to the floor.  The pucker resembled a small bagel with a purple ridge that ran across both cheeks and through the middle of the damaged orifice. The Lady Beth retrieved the spray bottle of alcohol and stepped over to the swing.  Sheila saw what was coming and held her breath.  The Lady Beth peeled each labia back and sprayed the purplish swollen flesh.  Sheila jumped with every spray.  A rough swipe with a towel elicited a gasp.  She pressed the towel hard against the girls mangled crotch for a few minutes.  The Lady then found some extra large condoms in a drawer. “Here.  I don't need any incidental infections from fucking that cunt you turned into hamburger.”  She said holding out a box to Joe.  He opened a packet and began to unroll a condom onto his cock.  It was a struggle to get them on, it was expected that they would shred several before they were finished.  They always did.  The Lady held out a large jar of Albolene for lubrication.

       “I think you're getting soft, ol... Lady Beth.”  Joe grinned at the Lady as he took it.

       “Careful, there, BOY!”  The Lady grinned back.  “I just don't want you doing any more damage than you already have.  I expect you'll do some, anyway.  You usually do.  Just too much of a good thing.  Or maybe I should say two good things.  Just use plenty.”

       Sheila was thankful for at least this bit of kindness.  As swollen as she was even with lubricant it was going to be rough.  These two were never gentle with her.  She had gotten off on the wrong foot with them early and things never got much better. She grimaced as a large handful of the slippery stuff was applied to her crotch.  Joe was actually being rather gentle.  His massive fingers spread the puffy purple sausages that had been her labia apart and spread the opening, pushing the thick goo inside. Her clit was still lightly oozing blood. When he did the same to her asshole the tears began anew.  She knew better than to say anything.  It wasn't just the pain of his fingers, but the anticipation of what was to come would be much worse.

       “Heads or tails?”  Joe asked.

       “I'll flip her for it.  You call how she lands.”  John responded.  Sheila stiffened.  They might not be joking.

       “You're already covered.  I'll put one on after I do her head.”  John said.  Joe shrugged.

        Sheila had been struggling to hold her head up when Joe walked over, rubbing the lubricant over his latex clad pole. It resembled a light pink bologna with a reservoir tip. John placed the tip of his cock against her cheek.  It was time for the finale of her destruction.  She let her head fall back and opened her mouth.  Much to her surprise he didn't attempt to strangle her with it, but rather let her lick and nibble.  'Maybe it won't be so bad.  Or maybe I'm hallucinating.' She thought.  'It's always hell with these two.'  She kept at it, trying to take as much as she could, breathing deeply, waiting for the massive organ to begin it's inevitable attack on her throat.  She had experienced this many times; never had either one been able to breach her throat.  There would come a point when her air would be shut off by the huge organ; it was just a matter of time.  She felt the blunt head of Master Joe's cock bumping against her cunt.  He spread her labia apart and pushed directly against her opening.  He bumped lightly, letting her swing onto Master John's cock and back against his shaft.  He rocked his hips, pushing her forward, letting her pussy bang against his cock head.  She was incredibly sore and sensitive.  But he didn't push hard, letting her stretch to accommodate his girth.  Meanwhile she was trying to accept the head of his partner into her mouth.  She opened her mouth wide, swallowed and tried to relax more. She knew that soon her jaw muscles would tire and fight the distension, but for now she was managing to keep up with the flow. John held her hips and started pushing a bit more forcefully against the pussy his cock was trying to enter.  She had accepted both of them several times before, though not without some difficulty.  The swelling and bruising wasn't helping; they really didn't want to damage her any more than they had to.  They could be sadistic bastards when they wanted to be; now wasn't one of those times.  The huge head of his cock finally made its’ entrance, he heard her gasp around the mighty shaft in her mouth.  He waited then repeated his gentle rocking motion. He made slight progress, but slight was sufficient.  Meanwhile John was enjoying the ministrations of her tongue.  He knew that attempting to assault her throat was not only a waste of time but would engage the wrath of the Lady Beth.  Not that it bothered him...he just didn't need the hassle. She did the best she could with the mass in her mouth.  Perhaps if she demonstrated her enthusiasm he wouldn't punish her further.  John watched the progress his partner was making in penetrating her pussy.  He knew that she couldn't take all of him – they had never found a woman yet who could take all of them completely, not even Helena.  He saw that Joe was apparently bumping into her cervix; he could feel a sharp exhale past her lips as she bottomed out on the shaft.  Joe was rocking harder now, pushing her up till she almost gagged on the cock in her mouth then slid back onto his cock.  She had loosened up enough that the slide back was a smooth motion rather than an incremental step down until the end banged into her cervix as he plunged forward again.

       “How about a sandwich?” Joe asked.

       “Sure.  You want front or back?”  John responded.

       “I've got her loosened up.  Your choice.”  Joe said.

       “I like it tight.”  John answered.  He pulled away and started opening a condom wrapper.  Joe pulled out and saw that, indeed, he had split the one he was wearing and went for a fresh one as well.  Joe lubed up his cock and wiped his hands on a towel.  He then released Sheila from her restraints and picked her up.  She braced her hands on his arms as his cock again found the swollen opening between her thighs.  He walked over to the mat holding her poised over his shaft, wiggling his hips to find the right point of penetration.  As he moved into her he knelt down onto the mat and held her up until John could join them.  John knelt down behind her and scooted up to press the tip of his cock against her anus.  Joe stretched her cheeks apart and bumped her up and down onto the head of the cock trying to gain entrance.  As he did so she was bumping her cervix on the cock in her cunt. This did not bode well...it never did.  John added more lube onto the swollen pucker and tried again.  Joe kept bouncing her; John kept rocking his hips up to meet her as she came down.  Her eyes widened and she gasped as his cock made an entrance.  The lifting, bouncing and rocking continued.  Sheila closed her eyes and the impalement progressed.  She had never tried sitting on a traffic cone.  She imagined that it would feel like this.  At last they were both inside her as far as they were going to go without major surgery. 

       “Look at me.” Joe told her.  She opened her eyes and looked into his.  He let go of her hips and let John guide the motion.  Joe reached up and started to gently roll her nipples between his fingers and thumbs.  If they hadn't been so viciously caned it might have felt good.  It didn't.  He watched her eyes widen and then narrow as he increased pressure.  He could probably crush them like a ripe grape; right now he didn't need to, they were already damaged.  He rolled them harder.  She moaned slightly and bit her bottom lip.  She didn't dare make too much noise.  She started breathing hard as tears ran down her cheeks.  Her nose was stuffed up; it too, began to run.  She had to open her mouth to breathe but was afraid that if she opened it she would cry out.  Joe saw her face was turning dark and he eased off on the pressure.

       “Lady Beth?”  He called out.  “How about a little snot control, please.”  Sheila blushed but said nothing.  The Lady Beth came over with a hand full of tissues and wiped Sheila's nose then held a bunch for her to blow into.  The task completed, she stepped away.  They hadn't missed a stroke.  He continued to torment her nipples - rolling, pinching, twisting.  The tears continued to flow.  She breathed through her mouth, scrunching her eyes to squeeze the tears out so she could see.  Her pussy ached and burned; her asshole was past pain and had started to go numb.  In another 24 hours she would be one large ache.  Walking would be a challenge.  Pissing would be agony.  She decided to fast for a week.  One small bowel movement might be fatal.  Both Masters felt that familiar tingling at the base of their cocks.  They started bouncing her harder, her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out.  They paid no attention; they kept fucking her for another few minutes until they finished.  Then they carefully laid her on the mat to rest.  Each man stood and stretched and then slipped off the shredded latex.  Their cocks weren’t as rigid as before, but they were still swollen.  It would take a while for that much blood to return to circulation.  Master Joe walked over and released Tuesday from the cable.  She had been watching, mesmerized by the display. She had learned to enjoy rough sex; she had reveled in it before.  Watching such a demonstration of pain and fucking, the men having little apparent regard for the agony they were inducing (she didn't know that they were really holding back) made her realize how far into “rough” she had to go. Her pussy was dripping again; a pink froth covered her pussy.  Her juice combined with a residual bit of bleeding, making her pussy resemble a strawberry parfait.  Neither man said a word; she sank to her knees and began to clean Master Joe’s cock with her tongue.  After a few licks and a nibble she turned her attention to Master John.  Back and forth she went, holding the base of each cock with her hand.  Her fingers reached about halfway around.  After a little while they were satisfied.  Master Joe looked down at her.  Her eyes were looking at their knees.

       “Time for your punishment.”  He said.  She shivered.  Master John took her hand and led her over to the same hook the swing was attached to.  Joe removed the swing and found a pair of spreader bars and another pair of cuffs. He attached her wrist cuffs to one bar and clipped it to the hook.  The other bar went to the cuffs on her ankles.  She was hoisted up until she was on her tiptoes. 

       The masters each selected a light bullwhip.  With a heavy whip they could kill a person (once John almost did.) The whips were made of plaited leather but did not have a lead core.  They could extract remarkable pain but without doing as much serious damage.  In the hands of the two masters they were extremely versatile.

       “Seventeen.  Each.  That’s all.”  The Lady Beth said to them.  She stepped up to Tuesday and said “You’ve been whipped before.  Before you came here.  You survived then; you’ll be alright now.  But it will hurt.  That’s what punishment is.  Learn from it.”  She stepped away and the first lash wrapped around and snapped on her back.  The surprise made her give a small scream.  She didn’t dare scream loudly.  The next came from the other side and landed close to the first.  They whipped her to hurt, not to damage.  It did hurt.  She sobbed and twisted, dancing on her toes.  The lashes never touched any of the newly pierced areas.  They lashed her slowly, methodically; giving her plenty of time to recover before the next one landed. By the time the tenth stroke fell she realized that the pain wasn’t so bad. Tuesday had experienced worse while hanging from her tits.  She also realized that her arousal was rising. The froth was sliding down her legs, washed away by the flood of fresh fluid flowing from her cunt.  They knew exactly what they were doing; the only question was in determining how much, how fast?  Apparently it was enough.  She continued her dance, but not in agony.  It DID hurt.  But it hurt SO GOOD!  It ended almost too soon. They released her and she dropped to the floor, feeling the different pains in different parts of her body.  Her endorphins had flooded her system; she was not completely cognizant of the world her body was in.  Her mind was very elsewhere. 

       

       They left her there and found Sheila, awake, watching.  The Lady Beth spoke to her:

       “You were supposed to give her some instruction in yoga and do some light exercises today.  So much for that idea.  You’re not out of the hot water yet.  The Mistress will decide the rest.”  Sheila hung her head and slowly struggled to her feet.  She waddled out of the chamber.  The masters sauntered along behind her.

       Tuesday began to stir, recognizing her surroundings.  When she looked up The Toymaker was squatting down next to her.

       “Rough day already?”  He asked.  She nodded. “It’s about over.  Just a few more things to do.”  He helped her to her feet and led her back over to the exam chair.  He strapped her in loosely; she wasn’t going anywhere.

       “You don’t need to bind me.”  She said.

       “I know.  I like to.”  He smiled at her.  She smiled back.  The stirrups were still adjusted for Sheila’s punishment.  He adjusted them down and stepped between her thighs.  He held a strange belt in his hand.  He pressed the center portion down over her pussy, wiggling it around to check the fit. 

       “What do you feel?”  He asked.

       “Nothing…no wait.  A slight touch.  On my clit.  That’s all.”  She replied. He shook it back and forth while pressing down.  She looked confused.

       “I feel…a little tickle.”  She told him.  He picked up the device and did something to the inside and replaced in on her cunt. He shook it while pressing, but not as hard.

       “I feel a little something just touching my clit.  About every other time you move it.”  She said.

       “Okay.”  He unbuckled her and assisted her up; she held the belt for him.  He put the belt around her waist and pulled two thin straps between her legs.  She looked down at the belt and realized that her clit was covered by a bulge, a hole for her urethra to drain fitted snugly around the opening.  She felt the covering.  The material was more flexible around her piss hole but became much stiffer as it rose over her clit. It fit too tightly for her to get her fingers under it and it was too hard to push into her clit.  Her pussy and asshole were accessible for use. The belt itself was light and flexible; she wouldn’t notice it after a few hours.

       “Walk around.”  The Toymaker told her.  She did. Every few steps she could feel something touch her clit.  She tried to jump but decided that she was too sore for that.  She wiggled her hips and decided that there was definitely something almost touching her clit.

       “I can feel something touching me. But very slightly.  What is it?”  She asked.

       “A clit tickler.  I’ll adjust it again tomorrow. It’s just to help keep you aroused.”  He said.

       “Like I NEED something to do THAT?!”  She exclaimed. “My pussy stays soaked as it is.” 

       “Well…the belt keeps wandering fingers from wandering too closely.  And it helps to keep you from being punished.  The tickler is punishment for needing it.”  He smiled.  She pouted. 

       “You had this in mind before I diddled myself this afternoon.”  She said.  He nodded.

       “Mistress Christine figured that as soon as you were pierced that your fingers might get you into trouble.  She was right.  She’s pretty sharp like that.”  He told her.  She pouted some more.  He laughed at her expression. “You can earn your orgasms.  That’s the only way you can have one from your clit.  She thinks you might find one another way.”

       “I’ve almost had them from fucking my ass.  I think I could with a more normal sized cock than what I’ve had lately.  The Roscoes…”  She didn’t need to finish.

       “If you could have them from one of the Roscoes fucking your ass, what do you think they would be like?”  He asked her.  She thought a few moments.  She shook her head.

       “I have no idea.  I can’t imagine that.”

Chapter 21

       The next day Tuesday awoke again to the Roscoes standing in her cell.  They were dressed in their usual fashion:  knit shirt, khaki cargo shorts and deck shoes.  She remembered to not look higher than their knees. Her hands had been left unattached to her collar. The chastity belt took care of the fingers problem.

       “How does the pussy feel?”  One of them asked her.

       “Sore, sir.”  She responded. “My clit is throbbing.”

       “I thought it did that all the time?”  The other asked.

       “Not like now, sir.”  She said.

       “Do your morning thing.”  She was told.  Tuesday crawled over to the hole in the floor.  It was close enough to the wall that she had to turn around and face the door to squat over it.  When she turned she saw the enormous cocks out, semi hard, pointing to her face.

       “Thank you, sirs.”  She said taking each in a hand and licking the heads back and forth. She sucked on the ends, trying to fit her mouth around the heads, finally stretching her jaw enough to get them in.  She milked them with her hands, banging the end into the back of her throat.  Fortunately she had long before learned to control her gag reflex; still the pressure stretching her throat made it difficult.  It would certainly require surgery to get them in any deeper.  She squatted there, over her toilet.  She had finished with her bladder, now she needed to finish with them.  She loved sucking cocks, but these two were a challenge.  They had grown to full hardness, filling her mouth and leaving little room for her tongue to do what she did best with it.  At last she felt the first one start to jump.  She pulled her head back far enough to catch the cum rather than having it blast directly down her throat.  She sucked harder, feeling her reward fill her mouth.  When he had at last finished spurting she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, tipping her head back to show them her prize.  She swallowed and turned immediately to the other one to finish that one as well.  She continued to stroke the first one gently as it softened. Her second reward came soon after; she repeated her display and swallowed her treat.

       “Thank you, Master Joe, thank you, Master John.  You are very generous this morning.”  She said, her eyes looking at their knees.  She licked her lips to catch any stray drops.  The two looked at each other and grinned.  Joe answered her:

       “Good job.  I think you could be a keeper.  After all, your performance is crucial.”  She nodded her head slowly, considering his words. “Up. Time to start the rest of your day.”

       She followed them to the shower.  Master John removed the chastity belt and they watched as she washed.  He put the cuffs on and attached them to her collar.  The belt would be left off for a while.  They took her to breakfast and then back to see the Lady Beth.

       “How's the cunt, cunt?”  The Lady Beth inquired. 

       “Sore, mistress.”  Tuesday answered.  “My clit throbs a lot.”  The Lady smirked at the Roscos.

       “More than usual?”  She asked.

       “Yes, mistress.  It usually doesn't hurt when it throbs.”  Tuesday replied.

       “In the chair.  Let's take a look.”  The Lady Beth pointed to the exam chair. Tuesday climbed in, the Lady belted her down.  She ran her fingers across some of the lines left from the previous days whipping.

       “How do these feel?”  She asked.

       “Not too bad, mistress.  Not like my cunt.”  Tuesday answered.

       “First, let me tell you something.”  The Lady Beth began.  “It's not 'your' cunt.  You are an acquisition; an asset.  As such both you as a whole and your parts are not owned by you.  It's time you started thinking like that.  It belongs to the Mistress, but if she isn't around it belongs to whoever is in charge at that moment.  Right now it belongs to me.  To do with as I wish.  If I cause damage beyond what the Mistress wishes, I answer to her.  I can cut it out or sew it shut; or these two Neanderthals can destroy it – and I mean a whole lot worse than you watched yesterday – and we don't owe you an apology.  Of course the Mistress might extract a rather painful fee for such actions; but it is she who would decide. She may replace Helena with you.  Or not.  You will refer to yourself in the third person from now on.  'This slut.'  'Your whore.'  'This cunt', 'Master Joe's and Master John's devoted cock sucker' and so on.  But you are not a slave.  Not yet.  You may never be one.  It's up to the Mistress or Mr. Charles to describe to you the hierarchy here.  But you have a ways to go to be a slave.  Sheila was a slave until yesterday.  Today she's back to the same status as you.  You're both meat for the grinder.  These two guys turn the crank.  I tell them how fast.  Understand?”  Tuesday nodded.

       “Yes, mistress.  Thank you for the instruction.”  She said trembling.

       “Relax. So far your performance has been pretty good. Other than that little faux pas you made yesterday you're doing okay.  That's what the belt is for.  To prevent another little fuck up.”  The Lady said. She didn't add that it was also to keep her pussy drooling.

       “Thank you, mistress.”  Tuesday replied.  The Lady continued to examine the marks, noting the placement and how even the lines were from start to end. The lines carefully avoided the piercings while targeting the sensitive spots. The guys really did know what they were doing.

       The Lady started by examining the nipple piercings.  The nipples were red and swollen, but not abnormally.  A Betadine sponge was used to clean each one, a pinch across the piercings forced some of the antiseptic into the wounds.  Tuesday winced, but didn’t utter a sound.

         She pulled a cart with a box of first aid supplies around to the side close to one of Tuesday's knees and sat on her stool.  She donned a pair of latex gloves and gently pulled the labia apart.  Tuesday bit her lips, not daring to moan.  She didn't know if it was allowed; but after seeing what had happened to Sheila, didn't want to take a chance.

       The clitoris was swollen; that was as expected.  Some redness as well, but not beyond normal.  The Lady Beth picked up a syringe, filled it with Betadine and carefully slipped the point to the edge of the bottom of the Isabella piercing.  She depressed the plunger slowly, soaking the piercing until the solution ran out of the top and leaked slightly from one side.  She moved the point to the side piercing not leaking and applied the antiseptic to that one.  It flowed from all three other openings.  A sterile cotton sponge soaked up the excess.  She pulled the labia apart again, opening the vagina and displaying her cavity.  She then slipped a sound, one of the smaller ones, into the urethra and wiggled it slightly. Tuesday didn't react so a larger one went in.  When she got to one that caused her to wince slightly she stopped and pushed it into the bladder. She jumped a bit when it passed the bladder sphincter, but not as much as she had originally.  Leaving the sound in place, she lubricated her gloved finger and gently rubbed the end of the clitoris.  Tuesday's eyes sprang open, startled.  Her eyes roved the room, not daring to look into any of the faces as the rubbing continued.  The Lady picked up a small vibrator and turned it on.  It was very quiet; when the tip of it touched the end of the sound Tuesday jumped again.  A glance into the open pussy revealed to the Lady that her ministrations were having a profound effect.  The cavity was now filled, threatening to spill over onto the asshole.  She stopped rubbing the clit, not wanting Tuesday to have another unearned orgasm; wanting to see the effect of the vibrator against the sound.

       “Mistress...please...may...may your slut...may your whore cum?”  Tuesday was quivering as she spoke.

       “No!”  The Lady responded. “You may not.”  She put the vibrator down and began moving the sound in and out, wiggling it around, tapping the bottom of her bladder as it went.  Tuesday went back to biting her lip and holding her eyes tightly closed.  A larger sound was inserted, the largest one yet.  Again the vibrator and the clit rubbing.  Another vibrator was applied to the bottom ball of the Isabella.

       “Mistress!  Please!  Your slut...is about to cum.  I can't help it!”  Tuesday cried. The vibrations ceased.  Now a puddle had accumulated on the floor under her ass.  The Lady took a handful of cotton sponges and stuffed them into the soaking cunt, absorbing the copious juices.  She mopped them around and then stood and told Tuesday:

       “Open up.”  As her mouth opened the sponges were stuffed inside. “Enjoy.”  She said.  Tuesday nodded her thanks.  The lady removed the sound and began to release the straps. She told her property:

       “Get up.  And clean up my floor.”  Tuesday got out of the chair on trembling legs and looked at the mess she had made on the floor.  She got down on her knees and pushed the sponges to one side within her mouth with her tongue and licked the floor clean.  Master Joe replaced the belt and locked it then offered her his hand to stand.  She did so and he released her hands from the collar.

       “Thank you, Master.”  She said around the fabric.  She was pretty sure he was Joe, but didn't to chance it.  Mistakes around here could have serious repercussions.

Chapter 22

       The rest of Tuesday's day turned into what would become a routine.  She was led to the stables and kennels.  Both Mr. Tanner and Kenny took turns fucking her at both ends – mouth and ass – but not her pussy.  The sexual activity excited her, the tickler inside the chastity belt simply added to her frustration.  Two members of the camera crew also sampled her talents.  They recorded her as she sucked off two stallions and four dogs.  One of the photographers used a Red One, the new camera that records at equivalent or better than 35mm film.  He shot close to her face, catching every nuance of her efforts.  While he did this Tuesday wore a tiny “earbug”; a radio receiver inside her ear canal that allowed her to hear a constant commentary on her actions.  Her tongue work, her lips, how much she was sucking – was all described and pointers given, the point being to add to the humiliation of her actions.  At times her tears flowed.  Her pussy flowed constantly.  During the commentary she was frequently compared to Helena; the concept that she could be a replacement always at the front of her mind. 

       She was returned for a shower and another quick check by Lady Beth.  Tuesday's belt was removed; wrists attached to her collar, and then was motioned onto the exam chair and buckled in.

       “Let's see how you are doing.”  The Lady remarked cheerfully.  She was healing normally, so another light dousing of antiseptic was all that was required.  “Do you notice the touching sensation on your clit?”

       “Sometimes, mistress.  Especially if I...excuse me...your slut is being fucked. Lady Beth, is using 'me' allowable?”  Tuesday asked.  The Lady frowned.

       “Yes.  Unless changed by Mistress Christine.  She may.  How many times were you fucked today?”

       “Four times, mistress...well, by four men.  Mr. Tanner, Mr. Kenny and two photographers.  Your slut doesn't know their names.”  She answered.

       “I will give instructions that you be introduced to everyone by appropriate name.  You should be able to properly thank everyone for their attentions. Did you thank the crew for the pleasure of their cocks?”  The Lady asked.

       “Yes, mistress.  They seemed to enjoy it.”  Tuesday replied.

       “You will start meeting some more of the staff and assets.  I want you to be quite familiar with everyone's genitals. I want your tongue to know every swell, crease, bump and flavor.  I want you to be able to identify every cock, pussy or pucker blindfolded. There will likely be a quiz. ” The Lady told her.

       “Thank you, mistress.  You are most generous.”  She said.

       “Mistress Christine’s orders.  You're going to be the house slut for a while.”  The Lady said. “That means that you are to offer…no…not just offer…solicit enthusiastically the use of your mouth and ass to everyone to meet each day.  That’s everyone, management, staff, asset or acquisition.  We refer to those as ‘a&a’s’, by the way.  You address them as Mr. or Miss, not master or mistress.” 

       Men? Tuesday was startled.  Men as slaves here…but…why not…?

       “They will address you in the same way.  You will not refer to yourself as “their slut” but as slut Tuesday. It is your job to entice them to use you for their pleasure in any way they wish.  And that includes being their urinal.  If they wish for you to suck their assholes, use lots of tongue.  If they want to fuck your ass, you’ll clean them off – of course you should be doing that anyway.  Make sure that they understand that they are doing you a favor to let you drink their cum or their piss.  Some will make you beg for it.  You’ll beg.  You’ll grovel.  Whatever it takes to get them to use you; or abuse you.”  She picked up a quirt.  The two rough rawhide ends were twelve inches long.  The end of each one was knotted, two more knots were tied into the last third of each strand.  A small loop on the handle end held a double snap clip; it was snapped onto the ring on the front of Tuesday’s collar.

       “Here’s how it works.”  The Lady Beth began. “Your performance in convincing everyone to use you AND how well you please them is graded with this little quirt.  If you aren’t convincing enough for them to use you, they’ll stripe your back three times.  If they use you and are displeased with your performance, they’ll stripe whichever orifice they found disappointing.  Except for your mouth.  Your face is not to be marked.  They’ll use the soles of your feet instead.  If you do a lousy job, say of sucking a cock, you might get both your back and your feet slashed.  Don’t give a good enough ass fuck and the enema hose might sting going in.  I’ll examine your marks every day.  I’ll determine how well you are performing by your marks. Understand?”  Tuesday nodded.

       “Yes, mistress.  Understood.”  She replied.

       “You are the lowest worm in the compost pile.  Everyone is to be treated as your better, though I understand you have a different…agreement with the Toymaker.”  There was a bit of a smile on the Lady’s face as she said it.  Tuesday could hear it in her voice.

       “If…if the Lady says so…mistress.” Tuesday said hesitantly.  What the fuck??  She looked around the floor, trying to figure out what was going on.

       “Don’t worry about it.  Apparently he has a soft spot in his head…and a hard spot in his pants about you.  Seems he is haunted by a previous life.  When you’re around him you do as he says.  Got it?”  The Lady seemed amused.

       “Yes, mistress. Thank you.”  Tuesday answered.  The Lady picked up the quirt on the ring and dropped it onto Tuesday’s chest. 

       “Your performance is critical to determining your final purpose.  Enthusiasm is critical.”  As the Lady Beth was finishing unbuckling the straps the Roscoes arrived.  Tuesday began her groveling.

       

       

       

       

       

       

Chapter 23

       Tuesday awoke to the presence of someone in her room.  The lights had been turned up, a female form stood next to the bed.  She felt that it was earlier than usual, though without windows nor clock it was just her body rhythm that told her.

       Sheila stood before her, hands behind her back.  The bruises from the previous day were in full bloom.  Ridges in angry red, black and blue ran across her chest. Her nipples were irregularly swollen.  Her pubis was also swollen, the labia puffy and grotesque. She was bruised from just below her navel, down the inside of her thighs.  Tuesday expected the other side to look no better.

       “Wake up.”  Sheila said evenly.  Tuesday began to slide to the floor and remembered her requirement to beg.

       “Stop.”  Sheila said.  “You don't beg me.  I'm your escort today.  The Roscoe's have work to do, so they can't devote all their time playing with you.” 

       'Playing?”  Tuesday thought.  'I would hate to see the results if they got serious.'  But said nothing.  She nodded.

       “Part of your instructions still pertains to me.  I need to pee.  That's still your job...you may ask me, but you don't have to beg.”  Sheila told her.  Tuesday looked around, then knelt at the slave's feet. Sheila spread her feet apart, watching Tuesday. The beautiful redhead was trying to figure out the protocol.

       “Ms Sheila, will you please use my mouth as your urinal?”  Tuesday asked as humbly as she could.  Sheila sighed, nodding.

       “I can't use my hands to help you” Sheila said, swiveling to show her cuffed wrists behind her.  “Open me gently...VERY gently. Then put your mouth on my pussy.”  Tuesday obeyed, noticing that Sheila grimaced as her labia was gently parted. 

       “Look at me.”  Sheila told her.  Tuesday looked up.  “You can look at me.  We are equals now.  I would be the house slut now if the fellows hadn't bruised me so much.  Go ahead; I'll explain a few things while you drink.”  Tuesday applied her mouth and instantly the girl released her bladder.  She had been holding it since she got up and was uncomfortable.

       “Ahhh...that's better.”  She said as the pressure reduced.  “I'll probably be the next house slut again after I heal.  They really didn't lay into me like they could have.  I've been a smart ass to them since shortly after I arrived.  This was payback.  There wouldn't have been pay back if you hadn't cum like that.  But you didn't know and I did.  I was responsible for you.  I wanted to be mad at you...but I fucked up.  And I paid for it.  I'm still paying.  So I expect to wear the quirt next.”  Sheila finished, Tuesday gently cleaned her with her tongue.  Sheila hadn't washed yet either, so Tuesday asked:

       “Shall I clean you some more, Ms Sheila?”  Sheila nodded.

       “A little. But it hurts, so just a bit.”  Tuesday carefully parted the swollen folds with her tongue, licking as carefully as she could, drawing out enough saliva to lubricate her tongue and sooth the battered flesh.  The usual morning musk combined with the residue from the previous day left a larger chore to do than would have been normal.  But Sheila was in no condition for a more thorough washing.

       “That's enough.  It hurts too much.  But thanks.  Now, you go pee.”  Tuesday crawled over to her toilet, squatting over the hole and releasing her bladder and bowels. She cleaned up and crawled back over to her escort.

       “You can stand.”  Sheila said. Tuesday obeyed. “Today you will start meeting people. The Lady Beth explained yesterday what you are supposed to do?”  She asked her charge.

       “Yes, Ms Sheila. I am to beg for everyone to use me for whatever they wish. May I ask a question?” Tuesday asked.  Sheila made a display of looking around and replied.

       “You may ask a relevant question. Understand?”  She answered, sweeping her eyes around.  Tuesday understood that their actions were being recorded, both audio and video.

       “Thank you.  You said you would be the house slut again.  Have you been one before?” Tuesday hoped the question was permitted.

       “Yes.  Everyone who gets acquired gets to be the house slut for a time.  The length of time depends on the slut and how the Mistress Christine determines how the slut is accepting the role.  I hope you like it rough.”  Sheila told her.

       “Yes.  I do.”  Tuesday grinned at her.

       “Then you'll enjoy it. Let's go.”  Sheila said, motioning to the door.  As they walked into the hall Sheila said “Stay a half step behind me to my right. We can talk a bit in the hallways, and some of the rooms.  The cameras are everywhere, but the microphones aren't always turned on.  The video controllers can watch more screens than they can listen to.  But keep it low just in case.”

       “Yes, Ms Sheila.”  Tuesday answered.

       “It’s just Sheila, now.  I expect you'll get a chance to abuse me soon enough.”  Sheila told her.

       “How long have you been here?”  Tuesday asked.  Sheila paused before answering.

       “Two years or so; I think.  We don't see much of the outside world and we don't have calendars.  This is our world.  At least while we're here.”  She replied.

       “Where are we?”  Tuesday asked.  Sheila turned and looked at her rather sharply.

       “That's not a good question to ask.  I don't know.  I have my ideas, but that's all.  And I don't share those.  That is not a good question to ask.” She repeated. “Be careful who you ask.”  She answered.

       “Were you a...volunteer?”  Tuesday asked.  “Is that a safe question?”  Sheila smiled at that.

       “Yes…Sort of.  I had...obligations and...issues…that were going to be very difficult to resolve.  This was an escape for me.  A safer haven than what I had.  If you can imagine this as being a safer place, then you have an idea what I was facing.”   She responded.  “Even if I get whipped and fucked half to death I'm going to be taken care of.  The alternative would have been worse.”  She snorted a little; then sniffed.  “It’s actually not too bad here.  It's just bad if you fuck up.  But it can be worse outside.”  Tuesday nodded at that.

       “I...understand.  That was sort of my option, too.  It seemed like either the frying pan or the fire.  I chose the fire.”  Tuesday said.  Sheila raised an eyebrow.

       “So did us all.  Do you know the name of our home?”  Tuesday shook her head.

       “Phoenix House. It's symbolic of the rebirth through fire that everyone who comes here to...live... has to experience.”  Sheila told her.  “I didn't tell you that.  Okay?”  Tuesday nodded.

       “Why did you say 'live' like that?”  Tuesday asked.  Sheila thought before answering.

       “We each came here to escape one life.  We found a completely different one.  An unexpected one. For some it’s not a real 'life', it’s just an escape.  A voluntary prison; but still a prison.  An escape into a prison.  Some came here not to live...but to not die.  It’s hard to explain.  We have no set sentence, no parole hearing.  We're in limbo.  Maybe it’s purgatory.  This is still the fire.  We don't know if we will ever fly.” 

       They reached the common dining area.  For the first time since her introduction she saw a group of people.

       “Show time.  I hope you enjoy it.”  Sheila said, and began the introductions.

Chapter 24

       

       They approached a table with one male and three females sitting around it.  All were naked other than cuffs and collars.  The man was slouched in the chair, leaning back; one arm hanging down across the back of the chair, the other on the table. He was strikingly attractive.  High cheek bones, a shock of dark hair crossed above an eye, both of brilliant blue. They all watched as Sheila brought Tuesday up to meet them.  As they approached closest to the male he stood up.  He was lanky and taller than Tuesday.  He watched intently as the two women walked up to them.

       “Mr. Donald...this is slut Tuesday.”  Sheila began.  “Slut Tues...”  He interrupted her before she could finish.

       “Tuesday.  You're delicious.  In fact I'm going to ask the Mistress if she will change your name.  I think Delicious is a much more suitable name.”  He grinned as he said it.  “I watched your introduction to the house...but you were probably too busy to notice.  The Mistress let short stuff have all the attention that afternoon.”

       “Mr. Donald!...” Sheila began; then stopped, remembering her newly reduced status.

       “It's okay!”  Donald laughed. “She knows I call her that occasionally. Only because it's true. The Mistress likes to display her for the shock value.  It works every time.  I use her too...but not for the shock value.”  Tuesday listened, curious about this man in front of her.  Her first impression was that he was gay...from his movements and mannerisms.  But his words didn't sound gay.  He reached out and grasped the quirt, the movement startling her.  He released it from the collar and looked into her eyes.

       “I heard that you were going to be the new slut.  I've been waiting to meet you. You're just as gorgeous as I first thought.  So...”  He looked at Sheila “I'm the first of the herd to try her out?”  Sheila looked peeved, but only said:

       “You will be the first of the assets to try her out, yes.”  He sat down, holding the quirt in one hand.  His cock was already hard; fairly long but not too thick.  In her previous life she might have been impressed; after the Roscoes anything smaller than what a bull carried was almost small.  He motioned to his shaft.

       “Work on that. I'll start you off easy.”  He said.  She dropped to her knees and put her lips around his cock.  She looked up at him; he returned her gaze, smiling.  She left her hands on her thighs and began to engulf him with her mouth.  She slid down his length, watching him.  Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, slowly pushing all the way down until her lips pressed against his abdomen.  She held her vacuum, withdrawing until just the head was in her mouth; then began another trip.  His smile broadened; he glanced up at Sheila.  She stood, and amused look on her face.

       “She's good.  I'm going to find out for sure...but so far I think she's very good.”  He smiled at Shelia and looked back into Tuesday's eyes. “And you like it too, don't you?” He asked. She didn't say anything, just nodded and winked at him, her eyes smiling, and kept moving back and forth.  She held her tongue tight against the underside of the cock, pressing it up firmly against the roof of her mouth.  She was careful to keep her teeth away, only flesh touching flesh. She kept this up for a few minutes and then brought her hands to play.

       She gently cupped his balls, caressing them, lightly tickling with her fingertips.  She pulled her mouth off of the shaft and ran her open lips down the underside to his balls; taking one into her mouth and tickled it with her tongue.  She released it and took the other one, repeating the action.  She washed his scrotum with her tongue; then with a smile, lifted the package and dropped her head down.  Donald slipped forward in the chair and raised his knees by lifting his heels.  She continued her washing, moving down to his anus.  Her tongue circled and probed, pressing into the pucker.  She gave a light sucking kiss to it then made a return trip to his balls.  She sucked both of them into her mouth, her tongue dancing and darting.  She slipped her mouth away and licked back up to his cock.

       Donald's eyes had narrowed, but they never closed. Most other men she had done this to had closed his eyes and lost his load by the time she had sucked him back into her mouth

and begun her deep throating again.  Donald gently placed his hand on the back of her head and pressed her against his belly.  Tuesday had conquered her gag reflex years before, so this wasn't scary to her as it might have been otherwise.  He held her and moved his hips, fucking her face, slowly and strongly but not brutally.  He pulled her back by her hair and grabbed her arm.  He spun her around and pushed her down.  She knew what to do; elevating her ass for his use.  Her belt allowed access to both her pussy and her ass, but her pussy held no interest to him right now.  He pressed the head of his cock against her asshole, she pressed back and relaxed her pucker.  He slipped in, paused then pressed all the way home.  She moaned slightly, turned to look at him and blew him a kiss. 

       Donald laughed at this and began to stroke her harder.  She put her head down on one forearm as he pounded her ass. He didn't last long this time.  He gave a hard lunge, holding her hips tight against him, then another lunge, then a third and held her close to him.  Holding her hips, he backed up and rose, slipping out of her as he regained his seat.  He pulled her arm to turn her back around, but she anticipated the move and caught his cock with her mouth before he had settled into the chair.  She sank her mouth all the way to the bottom, her tongue washing over the still hard meat.  She expected him to soften, but to her surprise, he didn't; rather he began to fuck her face again, holding her head between both palms, moving it back and forth.  It didn't take as long as she had expected for her ministrations to work.  She pressed her mouth tightly to him as he shot the second load down her throat.  He relaxed his grip and she sucked her way off of the finally softening cock.  A polite scattering of applause from the others at the table brought a blush to her cheeks.

       “Nice.”  Donald said. “You're definitely a keeper.  If I wasn't wanted in so many places I'd talk the Mistress into selling you to me...then find an out of the way place to do that every day.  Maybe all day.”

       “Wanted?  Where?” One of the women at the table said.  “You mean someone actually WANTS you?”  Her voice sounded incredulous, though it was an act.  “I can't imagine what for. Other than being an insatiable goat, what good are you?”  They all laughed, including Donald.

       “Well...they wanted me to get rid of me.  I saved them the trouble by coming here.”  He replied, laughing.  They all laughed with him.

       Sheila looked around, determining whom she would introduce Tuesday to next.  She decided on the one who spoke up.  She was elegant, with a long neck and delicate features, long brunette hair and hazel eyes.

       “Miss Priscilla, this is Slut Tuesday.”  She let Sheila do the introduction without interruption.  “Slut Tuesday, this is Miss Priscilla.”  Donald passed the quirt to Priscilla without comment. Priscilla pushed her chair away from the table, turning it to face into the room.  Tuesday crawled over to her and began.

       “Miss Priscilla...may this slut please offer her mouth and body to you... as your urinal or to provide pleasure?  It would give this slut great happiness to give you such service.” She waited for a response, but got none.  Tuesday continued.

       “Miss Priscilla, this slut begs you to allow her to service you, to worship your glorious pussy and ass, to quench her ravenous thirst with your delicious golden nectar...”  Donald interrupted her from behind.

       “She'll change that idea on the first mouthful.  Priss has the nastiest tasting piss of any woman I've ever tasted.”  Her reply was a raised middle finger that garnered more laughter, including hers.

       “You should know, Donnie boy.  You've probably drunk more of it than anyone else here.”  She replied.  They all laughed again.

       “Try decaf for a change.”  He offered and more laughter followed.  Priscilla picked up a bottle from the table and poured some into a glass.  It was a dark amber color.  She handed it to Tuesday saying:

       “Swish and gargle with this.”  Her tone had suddenly changed.  She was no longer laughing, but had a cutting, dismissive edge to her voice.  “I don't want a mouth that just sucked off a shitty cock getting close to my pussy without sanitizing it.  I'd prefer decontamination, but we don't have the facilities.  Her face held a scowl as she said it.  The abrupt change startled Tuesday, but she meekly took the glass, pouring the bitter contents into her mouth and swishing and gargling until Priscilla growled:

       “Okay.  Long enough, cunt.  You can chase it with this.”  Priscilla spread her legs and before Tuesday could finish swallowing found herself pulled by an arm and her face pressed into Priscilla's very wet pussy.  The previous show had stirred Priscilla's desire. Tuesday had barely finished swallowing and opened her mouth before Priscilla's piss began flowing.  A little splashed on her nose before she could get her mouth over the urethra and seal her lips to it. She swallowed quickly, sure that the woman was pushing it out as hard as possible, probably to make her spill it and earn a punishment.  She was able to keep up, however and the flow soon stopped.  She sucked at the opening, seeking the last few remaining drops. 

       Tuesday felt her head being pushed down, Priscilla arching her hips to push her juicy pussy into the awaiting mouth.  Tuesday licked and worshiped the soaking wet opening, but Priscilla didn't give her much of a chance, wiping the face all over her pussy, smearing the thick slime all over Tuesday's face, from her chin to her forehead.  Much to Priscilla's surprise Tuesday moaned slightly, aggressively pressing her face against the woman's cunt, seemingly wanting to be used like this.  She looked at the woman, eyebrows and eyelashes covered in secretions. Her tongue was out, mouth wide, as she sought to bath her face with the fragrant fluid.  Priscilla released her; immediately the mouth found the open source and sucked the juices into her mouth; then clamped her lips around the clit, sucking and licking. 

       Tuesday's fingers found the labia, stretching them, revealing the nub, pulling the hood away to get better access for her tongue.  She felt a light shudder go through the woman's body; she saw her eyes start to close.  She let go of the clit with her lips and simultaneously lifted the woman's legs up over her shoulders and separated her ass cheeks with her fingers.  Her mouth found the pucker and she attacked it with her tongue, determined to find entrance.  The woman gasped and put her own hands down to assist Tuesday, spreading her ass cheeks even wider.  She relaxed, allowing the searching, plunging tongue to find entrance.  Priscilla felt the tongue slip into her asshole, enjoying the rimming, now grabbing Tuesday's head and pressing harder. While the ass worship felt wonderful, her clit was demanding more attention so her hands directed Tuesday to return.  The lips found the clit once more and she began a circling with her tongue, three laps around, a serious suck, then again.  Rather than maintaining the hard pressure, Tuesday let up, her tongue now flicking gently around, giving a gentle kiss, a suck, and then back to flicking.  This ramped up Priscilla's desire even more.  Tuesday was now suddenly in charge.  Priscilla looked down into the beautiful face, pussy juices smearing the hair and cheeks, her eyelashes were covered; one stuck up against the upper lid, the other covered, the substance smearing down glazing the eyeball.  Priscilla saw a smile form on the face tantalizing her and felt a finger, then two sneak into her asshole.  That was all it took.  The fingers spread and moved in and out, suddenly the lips returned to their previous hard sucking and licking and the orgasm crashed through Priscilla's brain, waves of ecstasy sweeping across her body, her head lolling back and forth, eyes rolled back into sightlessness. 

       Tuesday continued, the body against her mouth shaking and quivering.  The hips bucked several times before she felt hands wrench her face away.  She grinned up at the woman as she saw her return to normalcy. A slow smile crept across Priscilla's mouth as she looked down at the mess between her legs.  She looked over toward Donald with a sleepy look.

       “You're right.  She is a keeper. Maybe we can go in together to buy her.  I don't think either of us could afford her separately.  I might even put up with you to have her.”  She said.  Another round of applause rewarded the performance.

       Sheila stepped over beside Tuesday.

       “Miss Priscilla, would you wish to punish slut Tuesday, or did she perform acceptably?”  She asked.  Priscilla picked up the quirt, looking at Tuesday.

       “I'll bet under slightly different circumstances you'd rather I used this on you, wouldn't you?”  Priscilla asked.  Tuesday nodded. “Well, maybe later I can.  But I found your performance to be acceptable...so I won't send you off with any marks.  They will come later, I promise.” 

       “Thank you Miss Priscilla.”  Tuesday replied. “You are most delicious.  Piss included. I look forward to your promise.”

       “But now you're a mess.”  Sheila said.  “Let's get you cleaned up and come back here for another round, if anyone can stay.”

       “Hurry.”  Another woman offered. “We'll stay for at least one or two more rounds, but then we may have to go.”  Sheila motioned with her head toward the door.

       “You heard her.  Let's hurry.”

       

       

Chapter 25

       Sheila led the way to the shower/toilet area.  They were able to get in a few words as they walked.

       “At first I thought Donald was gay...obviously not.” Tuesday offered.

       “He's bi.”  Sheila replied.  “He can be as gay as he wants to be...sometimes I think that's really his preference.  He'll fuck anything.  And I mean anything.  Helena once challenged him to a suck and fuck off in the stables.  Some said it was a tie; I think he won.  Of course he could cheat.  He has hands.”  Tuesday considered this while Sheila added. “You did well on those two.  Let's see how the rest turn out.”

       The conversation in the dining area was, as expected, about Tuesday.

       “You seemed like a bit of a bitch there for a few minutes.”  Donald said to Priscilla. “I didn't think that was your style.”

       “I thought I would see how easily intimidated she was.  She isn't.  But she has a great tongue, I'll give her that.”  Donald nodded.

       “She's spectacular.” He turned to the other two women. “You've got a treat coming.”

       All the slaves and assets were normally kept in a state of sexual frustration.  All had high levels of sexual desire; that was one of the criteria for acceptance.  All received just enough opportunities to release that desire but to keep it at a quivering pitch.  In anticipation of Tuesday's new status everyone was recently satiated.  The previous night held a flurry of fucking, all under the careful control of the staff. Otherwise, Tuesday would have found her tasks all too easy.  They watched her return.

       The Lady Beth was watching too, by remote video display.  Charles and Christine also enjoyed the scenario from the comfort of their apartment, as did the Roscoes from their office. Sheila brought Tuesday over to the next woman selected.  Tuesday noticed that the other occupants of the room had left.

       “Miss Dawn...this is the new house slut Tuesday.” Sheila began the introduction. “Slut Tuesday, meet Miss Dawn.”  Tuesday dropped to her knees in front of the woman, her forehead almost touching the woman's bare feet.

       “Miss Dawn.  May this slut please you...serve you with her mouth and body.  Would you be so gracious as to fill this mouth with your piss or allow me give you pleasure with it? Please allow me to serve you as a slut should.” Dawn lifted her chin with a toe. Tuesday saw a lovely face; a strawberry and cream complexion with high cheekbones, emerald green eyes surrounded by auburn hair so dark as to almost be brunette.  She looked down at the beautiful face, now clean of Priscilla's slime.

       “You may.  Start with this.”  Dawn wiggled the toe that had lifted her chin.  Tuesday sucked the toe into her mouth and began to swirl her tongue around it. She treated it like it was a small cock.  She teased it and sucked it; then moved to the next one.  One by one she orally worshiped Dawn’s little piggies. 

       “Slut.  The term fits you.  You’re not a whore.”  Dawn began. “A whore has a business.  She rents her body or her mouth for money.  You do this because you like it.  You like sucking cocks and pussies.  You get wet wanting to slide your tongue into someone’s asshole.  Admit it.”  She watched Tuesday as she spoke, the eyes looking back over the foot in her mouth.  She saw Tuesday smile and nod slightly to the accusations.  Tuesday stuck out her tongue, and grinning began to wash the top of her foot.

       She licked the top of the foot up to the ankle.  Then she started over on the sole.  Fortunately the floors were washed several times a day.  Since most everyone went barefoot and very few went outdoors, there was little dirt available to soil the feet of the occupants.  Tuesday began licking the bottom of the foot in her hands, placing her mouth against the arch, sucking and licking.  Dawn squirmed from the sensation. Tuesday held the foot up and began licking the ball of the foot.  She opened her mouth, pressing it against the skin just below the toes.  She swirled her tongue while dragging her upper teeth down the sole toward the heel.  She gently scratched the sole all the way to the heel, returned to the ball of the foot and repeated the process.  The third trip was all Dawn could stand.  She jerked at the hands holding the foot firmly to the sucking, teasing mouth. 

       Tuesday lifted her face from the foot, grinning at the woman above her.  He held on to the foot with one hand and grasped the other foot with her free hand.  The ankle of the next target was held firmly and Tuesday placed her mouth on the ankle just above heel and bit gently.  She chewed on the Achilles tendon, biting carefully and sucking at the skin.  She reversed the trip that she had made on the first foot; finally arriving at the toes for their sucking and licking worship.

       Tuesday then placed her tongue on the top of the second foot and. while smiling into Dawn’s eyes, began drawing it up the ankle, past the shin, over the knee to the thigh, arriving after a slow tortuous trip to the juncture with Dawn’s abdomen.  She began sucking the tender skin in the fold of the leg.  She continued her washing over to the other fold, plucking with her lips and licking at the stretched skin.  Tuesday placed her hands above the woman’s pubis and stretched the skin, opening the pussy and revealing the clitoris hiding within its hood.  She placed her thumbs to either side of the protuberance and pulled the hood away, exposing the sensitive fleshy knob.  She gave it a lick and then blew across the wet flesh.  Dawn quivered as the cooling breeze swept across.  Tuesday repeated the action, paused, then applied her lips and gently sucked.  She widened her oral attack and licked at the clit, then narrowed her lips to suck again.  After several times she stuck out her tongue and slid it down to the dripping opening below.  She slurped the fluid, thick and stringy, not nearly as copious as what Priscilla produced. She stirred the goo with her tongue, dipping in and retrieving what she could.  Her tongue drug a thick slug of the slippery stuff back up to bathe the clit.  She began to massage the nub with the slime, adding her saliva to the mix. She trapped the clit with an open mouth, swirling the liquid around while licking and sucking. She swallowed only a small amount, using the liquid as a hydraulic amplifier as she pushed and pulled with her tongue.

       Tuesday brought her fingers to the opening of Dawn’s pussy, slipping two fingers inside under her chin.  She reached up to rub the clit from underneath.  She looked into the brilliant green eyes as she swallowed the mouthful of fluid and began to simply lick and suck the clit.  She saw Dawn’s eyes grow wide; her eyelids fluttered and started to roll back under her upper lids.  Her mouth quivered and opened; Tuesday felt her body tense and knew an orgasm was imminent.  She didn’t expect what came next.  She kept rubbing the inside while sucking on Dawn’s clit.  The first spurt caught Tuesday’s chin, then Tuesday backed away slightly and caught the next spurt with her mouth.  She continued the rubbing  and suddenly Dawn jerked and bucked, the fluid spraying across Tuesday’s face and hair; as Dawn squirmed and shuddered with closed eyes she continued to spray as Tuesday rubbed.  Her fingers stopped and Dawn slumped into her chair.

       Tuesday slowly rose from the floor and moved to place her mouth close to Dawn’s ear.

       “I want to spend an afternoon sucking your ass and pussy.  Then I want you to hang me upside down and whip my pussy while pissing in my mouth.  Please?”  She spoke quietly so no one else could hear.  Dawn’s eyes fluttered open during Tuesday’s request.

       “Your place or mine?”  Was all she said.

       

Chapter 26

       Tuesday stood up and looked around.  Sheila was standing, watching, amazed as the rest of the spectators.

       “Who’s next?” Tuesday asked.  She saw the remaining unsatisfied woman at the table, eyes glowing and licking her lips.  She had dirty blonde hair, hanging just above her shoulders.  Dark blue eyes seemed to dance while full lips were caressed by a long and practiced tongue.  She was lovely, as were all the assets.  Her large breasts were tipped with wide areola and long nipples.  Her waist seemed too small, accentuating her hips.  She spread her legs revealing labia that were swollen and parted.  A large clit peeked out from between the lips, the entire area moist and dripping. 

       Tuesday’s eyes widened at the sight.  The woman was smiling in anticipation of what she would require of the new house slut.  She crooked her finger at Tuesday, beckoning her.  Tuesday walked over as Sheila made the introduction.

       “Miss Rebecca…this is slut Tuesday.” She turned to a smiling Tuesday and said “Slut Tuesday, this is Miss Rebecca.”  Tuesday began to kneel and opened her mouth to begin her begging.

       “Hush. We've all been there.”  Rebecca said quietly while placing a finger against Tuesday’s lips.  She smiled at the new house slut and took her by the hand and turned her so that her back was against the table.  She pushed Tuesday back, onto the table, never breaking eye contact.  The table was rectangular; Tuesday was laying along its length.  Rebecca pulled her over until her head fell off one end.  Rebecca stepped up and spread her thighs apart, her fingers opening the wet swollen folds and placing them against Tuesday’s mouth.  She sighed as Tuesday began to worship the pussy placed onto her face.  As Tuesday sucked, Rebecca leaned over and began slapping the inside of Tuesday’s thighs.  The legs spread open, the knees falling over the edge.  Tuesday hadn’t yet earned her cuffs and collar but she felt cuffs being applied to her ankles.  They were pulled down and fastened somewhere; she couldn’t pull them back.  Rebecca reached over and began pulling at Tuesday’s labia, stretching and opening her pussy.  Her fluid began to spill onto the table, puddling under her thighs.  Rebecca slapped at the stiff bulge protecting and teasing the clit beneath.  The impacts served only to remind Tuesday that the tickler was still there, the disturbance added little to the stimulation that she was already getting.  Her mouth was covered by the open, flowing hole between Rebecca’s thighs, her nose poking up into the fragrant pucker.  Breathing was difficult at best.  She could mouth slightly, getting a brief gasp with her mouth or a sniff with her nose; but air was becoming a priority.  Rebecca lifted up onto her toes and spread her labia with her fingers as Tuesday was about to raise an alarm.  As her mouth opened and a welcome gulp of air entered her throat, it was followed by a blast of hot salty urine.  Tuesday choked and sputtered, swallowing as she could, breathing between gulps. The piss burned her throat beyond where her breathing passages started.  Her eyes burned as well, tears flowing to drip to the floor. Her ears were covered by Rebecca’s thighs so as not to be able to hear the instructions of her new captor. 

       Rebecca directed that Tuesday’s feet be drawn back up and fastened to her thighs, spread and secured widely apart. Lines were wrapped under her knees and pulled back to open and reveal both Tuesday’s cunt and asshole.  A bottle of lube was produced.  Rebecca had finished her pissing and settled back down on Tuesday’s face.  Tuesday was able to tip her head back far enough to gain an opening for her nose between the cheeks of the ass imprisoning her face.  She felt the lube being poured across her open pussy and down the crack of her ass.  Fingers probed her pussy, spreading the folds and revealing the pink wetness inside.  The opening was stretched and Tuesday could feel fingers pulling and probing, finding the hot cavern within.  A hand was pushed into her cunt; fingers spreading, twisting. A fingertip found her cervix; a fingernail scratched the opening, pushing for an entrance.  A second fingernail joined the first, scraping and punishing the swollen aperture.  Then Tuesday felt fingers spreading the slickness across her asshole and realized what was coming.  The fingers spread her anus, one; then two sliding inside.  They could have been far more brutal than they were; almost like she was simply being given a rather pointed welcome to the group.  More lube was poured over the fingers, another then a fourth was smoothly plunging in and out, a bit deeper each time.  A push…then her anus felt stretched almost to tearing.  Her muffled cries were ignored, her mouth opened to complain filled with the flowing juices of her tormentor.  Priscilla’s eyes were shining, mouth laughing as she pushed her hand past the wrist into Tuesday’s ass, Rebecca’s hand deep inside the soaking cunt.  Rebecca reached over with her other hand, placing it behind Priss’s head and drew her mouth to her own.  Both mouths opened and tongues explored the others' mouth, exchanging saliva, tasting as one. They separated gently; then returned for another exploration.  Their hands had stilled during the interlude; upon parting they resumed their harsh manual fucking of the respective orifices. 

       Once each hand had gained complete entrance and Tuesday was able to secure a source of air, the sensations began to build within her.  Sheila realized what the women's intentions were.

       “She’s not allowed to cum.”  She stated to both of the women plundering Tuesday’s body.

       “Then tell her that.”  Rebecca answered. “It’s not my problem.”  Both women laughed at this.  Shelia stepped around and put her face down under Rebecca’s ass.

       “You can’t cum.  You CAN’T CUM!”  She said loudly to the face captured by Rebecca’s thighs.  “Remember the penalty…”  The threat from the Lady Beth wrenched Tuesday’s mind from the rapturous feelings and she clamped down on both hands inside her.  The many hours of exercise had strengthened those muscles and the women found that their hands were immobilized by the pressure.

       “What?”  Said Rebecca as she felt her hand imprisoned in Tuesday’s internal swamp.  The muscles held each hand like it was captured in frozen syrup.  Movement was possible, but difficult.  Tuesday's mind was in a panic.  She had almost allowed herself an orgasm; the consequences might be too horrendous to bear.  She felt the hands struggling within her loins, but had no intention of letting them complete their intent.

       Rebecca glanced up at her partner in lust and grinned.

       “I think our newly found slut figured out the game.  Too bad.  Now we get to punish her. I guess that's her catch-22.”  Rebecca said to Priscilla.

       “Let her get you off first. You'll enjoy her.”  Priscilla answered.  They each stopped their churning with their hands, relaxing them so that they could extract them.  Tuesday relaxed her muscles and felt the hands withdrawing.  She redoubled her efforts to satisfy the cunt covering her face.  She felt the thighs part slightly and the pussy press a bit more firmly to her mouth.  She began licking and sucking in earnest, moving from the flowing hole to the clit and back.  There was enough opening for her to reach the woman's tight pucker with her tongue; she added that to her targets. 

       Rebecca leaned over and rested her torso on Tuesday's body, her eyes mere inches from the fragrant, open slit of her pussy.  She watched the fluid seemingly bubble up from within as she felt the tongue caress her asshole and pussy. She had to admit; the others had been right.  Tuesday knew what to do with a tongue.  Rebecca could feel the cushions of Tuesday's breasts under her tummy, her own supporting her on the belly beneath her.  For no good reason she began to examine the hard shell protecting the pierced clit beneath.  She thumped it and wiggled it, pulling it to see if there was any slack.  There wasn't.  She attempted to slip a finger under the edge, but the Toymaker knew what he was doing; there was no access. Finally she reached under her and stretched her own pussy open, giving more open access for Tuesday to reach the clit before her tongue.  Tuesday took the opportunity to attach her mouth like a leech to the swollen bud, licking, sucking and generally attacking it as vigorously as she could. 

       That was what Rebecca wanted.  She felt her orgasm building, cresting as she gripped the table and shuddered into Tuesday's hungry mouth.  Tuesday felt the passion, a fresh flood of juice sliding into her mouth; though not the flood that Dawn had treated her with.  Her hands and feet were untied before the thighs capturing her face were removed.  Hands lifted her head and pulled her onto the table and lifted her up to a sitting position.  The transition from down to up left her dizzy; she was aware but unassisting as she was moved down to the floor.  She felt herself being moved away from the table and without warning her back was slashed once, twice, three times with the quirt.  The lashes were delivered with strength, the impacts stung fiercely.  Tuesday's eyes filled with tears, both from the pain and confusion.  She had obeyed the Lady Beth.  Nothing else mattered.

       “I believe she had good reason to reject your efforts.”  The Lady Beth's voice came from behind her.  She turned on her knees to see Lady Beth standing before the group. She was wearing a tight, short dress; slit up one thigh.  It appeared somewhat oriental and fit her like skin.  She wore black stilettos; the Lady was exquisite.  Through teary eyes she watched the Lady Beth step up to her and shimmy the hem of the skirt up to her waist; she wasn't wearing underwear, just a garter to hold up the black seamed stockings. The Lady Beth spread her legs and using one hand, parted the lips of her pussy.  A solid stream of piss struck Tuesday's face before she had a chance to react; then her mouth opened and Tuesday began to swallow and attempted to catch the stream as it moved around, soaking her face and hair.  The stream became a trickle; then a drip.  Tuesday moved up to wash her mistress's pussy with her tongue; then moved her face to the floor and began to slurp and lick the piss that had puddled there.

       “Come along.  You have exercises to do.”  The Lady said and turned on her heels.

       

Chapter 27

       Tuesday followed the Lady Beth back to the Lady's lair; after first making another detour through the shower. Sheila was there waiting, standing painfully, wrists still cuffed behind her. The Lady motioned for Sheila to sit on the floor, when she complied cuffs were added to her ankles and locked to her wrist cuffs, leaving her lying painfully hogtied on her swollen cunt and breasts.  The Lady Beth removed Tuesday's chastity belt and pointed to the exam chair.  Tuesday sat down and watched as the straps were secured.  The Lady pulled a stool around to between Tuesday's thighs and drew up a cart with assorted implements on it.  The Lady began her examination,  She noted how swollen the clitoris had become, both from the constant irritation by the tickler as well as the sexual activities she had performed.  The  labia were also swollen; the opening between was wide and dripping.

       “it would appear that you enjoyed the mornings festivities.”  The Lady remarked.  While looking at her breasts Tuesday nodded.

       “Yes, Mistress.  It was quite...stimulating.  Thank you.”  Tuesday replied.

       “For what?”  The Lady asked.  “For pissing on you?”  Tuesday blushed at that comment.

       “Yes, Mistress.”  She began. “That and being allowed to pleasure the others.  I...this slut has missed the opportunity to interact like that.”

       “I noticed your enthusiasm.  I suspect that others did as well.  Its important that you maintain such an attitude.”  The Lady said.  “Your position as house slut will continue for a few days...at least until your fellow slut there,” she nodded toward Sheila “is well enough to take your place.” She turned to the form on the floor.  “You have been a recalcitrant little bitch since shortly after you arrived.  Do you know what has been proposed for Tuesday, here?” Shelia shook her head negatively.  “I suggested to the Mistress and she is considering a proposal that Tuesday complement Helena.  Complete with diminished modifications.  But her attitude seems to be much more suited for more versatile roles.  You, on the other hand may be a more suitable choice.”  Sheila paled.  She had simply been told that there would be “consequences” for Tuesday if she had another unauthorized orgasm.  She had no idea that the consequences were so drastic.

       “A matching pair of sucking and fucking torsos...I don't remember...do you enjoy sucking off horses?”  The Lady Beth said smilingly.  Actually, she did remember very well.  Like the rest of them, Sheila had been made to perform in the stables.  Her vomiting after each course was impressive.  Sheila closed her eyes, shivering at the memory; her stomach churned in reflex.  She shook her head violently, afraid to speak.

       “Well.  A particular surgeon is wishing to practice some new...techniques.” The Lady Beth continued. “They are somewhat outside the norm of everyday practices.  And he is able to pay handsomely for a willing subject for that practice.  The problem is that no one is willing.  The mistress would hate to lose such an opportunity.  He might be persuaded to use anesthesia...”  The Lady's comments trailed off; she watched as Sheila squirmed.  From the action of her abdomen it seemed that she might be sick.

       The Lady turned back toward a worried but slightly relieved Tuesday.  “But don't get your hopes too high just yet.”  She told her beautiful captive.  The Lady Beth selected a catheter from a tray, lubricated it and introduced the end to Tuesday's urethra.  It slid home; as it passed the sphincter the Lady picked up a shallow bowl to catch the urine. The bladder finished draining; the Lady shook a few drops of the end and withdrew the catheter.  The few drops remaining were added to the bowl.  The Lady stood and carried the bowl over to the trussed Sheila.  The bowl was place under Sheila's nose producing a grimace.

       “Enjoy.” The Lady said to her bound former assistant.  “It's time you gathered up some enthusiasm for the duties that all assets are expected to perform.  I'm afraid I misjudged you.  I recommended you for acquisition and at first it seemed that you were a fit.  But over the past months you have failed to embrace the concepts and activities we employ.  I thought that by bringing you into an assisting position that you would better accept the philosophy that was very specifically described to you before your debt was settled and your...physical liabilities...is that an accurate description of what you were facing?”  The Lady paused as Sheila nodded; tears streaming into the bowl under her mouth.  The Lady continued “Your physical liabilities were rescued.  So you are now back at the beginning.  You were responsible for Ms Tuesday here and failed.  The Mistress happened to be watching.  It distressed her to see it.” Sheila paled and quivered.  “Of course she let me know of her distress.  Since I was responsible for you, your failure reflected upon me.  I was kind enough to request – request, mind you.  They didn't have to honor it- that the Roscoes be easy on you.  You pissed them off a long time ago.  Those boys are remarkably intelligent as well as patient.  If they had been fully unleashed on you, what was left would have made a rather meager meal for the kennels.”  Sheila just nodded her agreement.  “So you are no longer under my protection.  The Mistress doesn't want to lose her entire investment.  The payment from the surgeon would about cover that.  If he performed without anesthesia, the video sales would provide a nice profit.  And she could still sell you overseas.  Helena's procedure taught them the expedience of first removing the vocal cords. And probably the eyes and eardrums if she intended to export you.  Nothing but an immobile, quiet, Caucasian fuck toy for some whorehouse or warlord.  Capisce?” Sheila nodded so hard that she rocked from top to bottom; her swollen cunt not even registering its pain in light of this new information.

       “Now...drink.”  Sheila began lapping at the yellow liquid, unconcerned at the flavor.

       The Lady picked up a sound, lubricated it and inserted into Tuesday's urethra.  It slid home without much resistance.  She continued increasing the size until she found one that caused discomfort.  That one she wiggled and stroked in and out.  Tuesday squirmed without complaint.  The Lady Beth noticed that the action caused an increase in the fluid flow from her cunt.  When the stroking failed to produce sufficient discomfort another, larger rod was used.  While stretching out the tube inside, The Lady Beth examined the piercings.  She wiggled each end of each rod, noting the reaction each caused.  Between sound size changes she squirted another shot of Betadine into the holes.  They seemed to be healing properly.  New jewelry would be appropriate soon.  She picked up a gold ring and secured her labia at the top piercing.  She repeated the procedure three more times.  Tuesday’s labia were effectively locked together.  Her mouth and anus were the only orifices available.

       Chapter 28

       

       Tuesday's position as house slut continued.  She met all of the remaining staff and assets and visited most of the facility.  It was much larger and more complex than she had imagined.  Her escort was still Sheila; the bruises were starting to fade to a more sickening red, yellow and green. Her cunt, nipples and breasts were still misshapen, but were begin to normalize.  Tuesday wondered if some of the damage was permanent.  Sheila wasn't very talkative and Tuesday knew not to ask.  Her escort's demeanor was alternating between depressed and terrified.  Tuesday certainly understood why.  She was slightly buoyed by the Lady's revelation.  If Sheila was now a candidate for the modification, then perhaps Tuesday could escape such a fate.  Surely the Mistress wouldn't have such a radical procedure performed on both of them.  Would she?  But Tuesday didn't really know the Mistress.  Her exposure to her new owner was extremely limited.  And questions weren't exactly welcome.  Could anyone be so...callous? Or sadistic? Or...how could you describe anyone who would allow such?  Sociopathic?

       Tuesday suddenly realized while she was on her knees sucking the cock of a rather well endowed black male asset, that sociopathic behavior could possibly describe the foundation of the facility she was currently residing in. 

       Of course, she was quite wrong.  But her confusion was understandable, because it was deliberately encouraged.

Chapter 29

       Tuesday wasn't quite so much sucking the cock of the black male asset as she was fucking it with her throat.  It was one of the more brutal encounters she had had so far and she was reveling in it. He had requested to cuff her wrists behind her.  And because he knew the system made a loud declaration as he removed the quirt from Tuesday's collar.

       “I am not marking this slut as a sign of disappointment of her performance.  She hasn't performed yet.”  He said loudly in an English accent, looking around and looking directly into several cameras.  “I am exercising my prerogative of an asset to obtain a bit of entertainment from a house slut.”  He stood back, waiting to see if anything might occur to prevent him from enjoying his pleasure.  When no one appeared he smiled down at the beauty kneeling before him.  He was tall, built sparsely yet strongly.  He was rather good looking with narrow features and a dark caramel color.

       “Lovely tits.”  He said.  “Do you like them to be hurt?”  She looked down and nodded slowly.  “Good.”  And he began to whip them.  He was practiced with the instrument.  He marked her carefully; delivering stripe after stripe, turning her lovely breasts into an angry red mass.  Several overlapping strokes produced small beads of blood, but mainly the globes swelled and hurt.  Her nipples seemed ready to burst.  She moaned a few times and sucked in a gasp several more; never did she scream.  After a while tears began to run down her cheeks.  She looked up at her tormentor several times; an amused slight smile decorated his countenance; he never said a word nor seemed anything but relaxed. As the pain built her pussy began to flow.  She had experienced torture that could be compared to professional levels; it had trained her to react to it as an erotic stimulant.  Up until now she had not be able, or perhaps been unwilling, to relax and let her previous chastisements excite her.  But this time, she did.

       The black asset, named Howard (Howie to his friends) watched as Tuesday squirmed as he started his exercise.  She opened her thighs, spreading her knees and settling back on her feet.  At first he thought she was simply in pain, but quickly realized that she was simply finding a more comfortable position to enjoy her pain. Her labia swelled against the rings, trying to part and shortly a thread of her fluid stretched down to the floor.  It wasn't long before the thread became a puddle. Howie was both surprised and delighted that the beautiful red head before him was evidently a painslut of the first order.  His delight continued and he modified his delivery to extend both his pleasure and hers.  This cunt was going to be fun!  His smaller head began to exert its dominance, however.  The beautiful woman's pain may have been exciting to the larger head, but Howie's rather impressive member was lobbying for equal time, or at least equal access.

       Howie put the quirt on a handy table and drew a chair up to the sweating, trembling beauty, busy pouring her lubrication onto the floor.  He sat and looked into eyes that weren't focused on him; perhaps not focused in this dimension. He put a large hand behind her head and gently guided her mouth to his cock.  Her lips automatically formed an “O”, her eyes closed and her cheeks hollowed.  He watched in amazement as her mouth slid down to the base of his cock and the suction increased.  He thought she was going to suck him inside out when she slowly began to withdraw her mouth until just the head was inside.  Her tongue laved and stroked him.  She seemed to return to awareness as she looked into his eyes and winked at him.  The “O” of her lips turned up at the corners and she began her trip back down to his abdomen.  Her strokes began to increase in speed, perhaps also in intensity.  With the actions of her tongue and her sucking, her lips and an occasional moan to vibrate his glans, he couldn't be sure just what was happening.  He was sure that it was exquisite.  If he could manage to extricate himself from this situation...he would sure as hell buy this bitch!

       It didn't take long for her to realize her reward.  As she held his balls and carefully caressed them with her fingers she felt them start to tighten and lift.  She continued looking into his eyes as his thighs shook and his eyes glazed over and broke contact; rolling back into his head.  He jerked as he came, his hands loosely around her head, holding it as he thrust into her mouth, holding her tight to his body.  Once, twice, three times; the fourth thrust more a twitch than an actual thrust.  He relaxed his hands and they fell to his sides.  He looked through narrowed slits at the grinning beauty kneeling before him.

       “Did this slut perform adequately, sir?”  She asked.  He nodded, his head lolling around.  He looked at the others sitting and standing around, a light patter of applause rang through the air. 

       “Shit. Motherfuu...”  Was all he could get out.  He swallowed, trying to find a drop of moisture to lubricate his lips. “Donald is right.  Your name should be 'Delicious'.” She grinned in reply.

Chapter 30

       Charles and Christina were watching the performance as Tuesday sucked Howie into a state of delusion. 

       “You were quite right.”  Charles told his lovely, sexy wife as they watched the performance on the projection screen.  The screen covered most of the wall; Tuesday was several times larger than life size, projected in extremely high resolution.  The magnified details of every pore and hair could have been almost grotesque if the scene hadn't been so sexually hot that the screen might have started smoking.  Charles had one hand cupping his wife's breast; her hands were holding his cock and balls; her head in his lap, her tongue curling around the head of the member, licking the pearls that appeared on the tip.  They were reclining in their bed; watching as their newest acquisition fulfilled her rites of passage through the trials of being a house slut.

       “I've never doubted your talent in selecting assets.  This time you have outdone even yourself.” He said, caressing the soft curls on the head in his lap with his other hand.  “This one is spectacular.  How is her tongue?”  He asked.  She lifted her head, breaking contact between her mouth and his cock.

       “Wonderful.  She is an extremely talented cuntlicker.  Apparently she is equally talented at sucking cocks.”  Christina replied.  “When are you going to try her out?  I want to see your reaction.”

       “Hmm.  I was considering giving her an invitation this week.  Want to attend?  Or just watch on screen.  You are an incorrigible voyeur.” He answered.  She rose up until her head was even with his and looked at him incredulously.

       “ME?”  She said loudly.  “ME?  Who specified the whole damn audio and video surveillance and recording system for this place?  Who had to have the most advanced, highest detailed video recording cameras, the literally miles of fiber optic cable...the amplifiers, the switchers, PETABYTES of recoding capacity!  Who put the hidden camera in the bathroom to record every drop of piss that fell from my pussy...who planted a camera in the office ladies room of the company you used to own...”  Charles interrupted her at last.

       “OKAY!  So I like to watch. I just happen to share a fascination with Chance the gardener.  I like to watch.  But so do you.”  She settled back against the pillows, her hand still on her husband's cock.  She turned her head to look at him as he watched the images on screen.

       “Peeper. Pervert peeper.”  She accused, smiling as she said it.

       “Guilty.”  He said.  “That's why you love me.”  She leaned over, taking his cock into her mouth, swallowing him to the root.  She worked her throat muscles over his cock, holding her mouth against him as she swallowed.  As she at last pulled away she replied.

       “Just one reason.  One of many.”  She sank back down on his cock, engulfing him until her nose pressed against his curls.

Chapter 31

       “You have an invitation” Sheila told Tuesday as they arrived at the dining area.  Tuesday turned to look at her escort who was still wearing handcuffs.  The quirt under Tuesday's chin swung back and forth.

       “An invitation?”  She asked excitedly. “Why didn't you mention it before?”

       “Because you would have had too many questions.” Sheila replied. “Hush.  Eat.  It’s for after breakfast.”  They ate, Tuesday barely able to sit still.  Her mind churned.  She would be able to ask Charles...what?  Whether she would be maimed?  Whether she would be turned into a monstrosity?  If the woman who ran this place was a monster herself?  Whether she would be given the chance to simply slit her own throat...?  She already knew the answer that one – no!  She was of no value dead.  How could she be of much value as a blind, deaf, voiceless torso.  Three hot holes.  A voluptuous fuck toy trapping a once intelligent woman in an endless hell.  She shook her head as if to sling the thoughts away.

       “Are you alright?”  Sheila asked.  Tears were streaming down Tuesday's cheeks.  Tuesday just shook her head; looking down at the table, tears dripping onto the surface like so many raindrops. They finally finished breakfast.  Tuesday trembled as she followed Sheila to the Office.

Chapter 31

       Sheila knocked on the door, paused then opened it.  As it swung open she stepped aside so Tuesday could enter.  Tuesday stepped into the doorway as Charles looked up.  He saw the gorgeous redhead standing in the doorway.  She looked different from the first time she had visited this room.  He almost stood as a sign of courtesy but caught himself.  Her face was cast slightly down in deference; her eyes searching the floor. But her head was erect, her back was straight and shoulders held back, holding her magnificent breasts high.  They showed the effect of the quirt Howard had used.  They were very swollen; apparently the Lady Beth had exchanged the bars for longer ones; still the nipples puffed out around the metal.  The orbs were mainly a blue-black, streaked with red.  The areola were swollen enough to give the impression that the nipples were erect; though they really weren't.  Her clitoral protector was a glossy black, bulging from the top of her pussy. Her pussy was also swollen; the lips strained against the golden rings that held her pussy closed. Swollen from the pain?  From...what?   He considered what Donald had said...she really was Delicious.

       “Good morning Tuesday.”  Charles greeted her.

       “Good morning, sir.”  She replied.

       “Are you well today?”  He inquired. She was looking around the room.  Some of the decor had changed. Large framed prints on the wall depicted women in various states of bondage.  All were beautiful; all were exquisitely tortured.

       “Yes, thank you sir.”  She answered, still examining the prints.  She wasn't allowed to look at him and couldn't take her eyes from the prints.  He watched her examine the art work.

       “Do you like the prints?”  He asked.  She nodded.  “They are by Robert Bishop.  He went simply by “The Bishop.”  He's dead...but his work lives on.  Would you like to experience

some of the positions?”  She nodded and gave a quick glance toward him without looking at his face.

       “That can be arranged.  I think you would be quite lovely...and arousing... duplicating his art in real life.”  He paused.  “Of course you'd have to endure it for a while.  That is the whole point...to provide artful arousal while you suffer.  I would make sure you suffer.  A lot; for a long time.  Would you like that?” She nodded and stole another quick glance.  He was smiling.

       “Please.”  She answered.  She really was curious; but more so hoped that she might further display her willingness to co operate “with enthusiasm.”

        “Please...sit.”  He motioned to a chair. “You have been quite impressive as a house slut.  I believe that you enjoy performing in that capacity.  Do you?”  She sat and considered his question.

       “Yes...yes, sir.  I do.”  She answered.

       “Why is that?” He asked.  “And you may please look at me when we talk from now on.” That startled her; she looked at him almost in amazement.  He was smiling gently.  “This is a place for you to relax a bit...a respite from the responsibilities that await you outside that door.”  That gave her pause.  She didn't really have any responsibilities that she could think of.

       “Responsibilities, sir?”  She asked.  He laughed.

       “Well, not so much yet, but you will.  At least you can escape the threat of punishment.  How's that?”  He asked.

       “Thank you, sir.”  She smiled at him.  “It is still a bit...intimidating.”

       “Yes.  It is supposed to be.  When it ceases to be intimidating, then someone isn't doing their job correctly.”  He paused before continuing.  “I wanted to tell you that we think that your progress thus far is encouraging.”  He told her.  Her heart began to thump. “You have demonstrated a remarkable enthusiasm.  And you are quite lovely.  I think our acquisition of you was a wise choice.  I am in great favor of keeping you intact...your appearance wouldn't be enhanced by having you diminished.”  Tuesday's heart began to pound. “And your attributes would certainly be seriously curtailed.  I am going to recommend that you be trained toward the goal that your talents have demonstrated thus far.”  Her heart leaped at the news.  She trembled as she asked.

       “What is that, sir?”  She looked into his eyes as she asked the question, searching for more signs of encouragement.

       “You thrive on sex and pain.  We shall encourage that diet.  Until one is incomplete without the other.”  He said simply, still a slight smile on his face.

       She dropped her head and held her face in her hands.  She took a large gasp, then another and released it, tears flowing from between her fingers.  She looked up at him, eyes shining.

       “Thank you sir.  Thank you.  I...I can't understand why Helena...but I...I couldn't...” She covered her face again.  She heard him say quietly:

       “It won't happen.  Not to you.  Not ever.”  She looked at him again.  His face was kind and caring.  Her relief was total.  Her whole face showed her joy.  “That's not to say that it won't happen to anyone else.  But not to you.”  She considered this.

       “Shelia?”  She asked.

       “She isn't your concern.  You are your concern.  I'm not saying that to be callous...but just like outside these walls, we all have to be personally responsible.  You cannot carry someone else without hindering yourself.  You don't have to step on anyone else...but you can't expect someone else to carry you, either.  That is something that a few others have yet to learn.  If one expects to be carried by others, they can't complain if the load gets lightened.” He never changed his expression, but she understood his meaning.

       They were interrupted by a single knock on the door; then it swung open without invitation.  The Mistress Christine entered the room.  Charles stood up and instantly Tuesday did the same, her face tilted down; eyes toward the floor.

       “Hello Charles.”  Mistress Christine said, as if she hadn't seen him yet that day.

       “Hello, Mistress.  Welcome.”  He replied.  Tuesday didn't know what to say so she remained silent.

       “Cat got your tongue?”  Christine asked of Tuesday.

       “Sorry, Mistress.  I...this slut...doesn't yet know the protocols.  Hello and good day, Mistress.”  Tuesday answered.  Christine grinned at her discomfort.

       “You're quick...you'll learn.”  The Mistress replied. “Have you had an interesting visit, thus far?”

       “Yes ma'am.  Yes, very.”  She replied.  She still hadn't looked up but she was smiling at the floor.  Christine was still grinning.

       “What has been most...interesting?”  Christine asked.  “And you can look up.”  Tuesday looked up, her eyes filled with tears.

       “Mr. Charles...” She was terrified to say what she wanted to say.  What if the Mistress didn't concur?  “Mr. Charles said that he preferred that I wouldn't be...diminished.”  She blurted out.

       Oh? Did he?”  Christine said with a raised eyebrow and a questioning tone in her voice.  “Then let's sit down.  I want to hear his opinion.”  It was an act, but one that Tuesday was unaware of.  They sat.  “Charles.  What IS your opinion about this?  I think the Lady Beth's idea held some merit.  Perhaps Helena could use some...companionship?  Or maybe competition?”

       “Perhaps she could.  But I think that it would be a waste of a very valuable investment for that person to be Tuesday.  She has demonstrated a particularly popular talent as a house slut.  I believe you have partaken of her skills...what is your opinion of her talents?”  He answered.

       “Hmmm.  She does have quite a talented tongue.  Eager...long enough.  She knows how and where to lick.  But have you had the experience yet?”  Christine asked him.  He shook his head.

       “I guess I'm the last one to sample her charms.”  He replied.

       “Then it is time.”  Christine said.  “I'll observe. You judge her talent; I'll judge her enthusiasm.”  Charles then stood and walked around to the front of the desk.  It was a standard desk; Helena's contribution to the furniture arts had been removed to another area. He slipped off his shoes – deck shoes, Tuesday noticed – then his slacks.  He folded the slacks up and reached over, placing them on the chair he had just vacated and pulled his boxers off and tossed them over as well.  He pulled another straight chair from against the wall and sat down.  He looked at Tuesday with an amused smile and said:

       “You may begin.”  Tuesday dropped to her knees on the floor and crawled over to him.  She gently parted his knees and slipped closer.  She glanced down to see where his cock was; it was beginning to firm up and point toward her face.  She grinned at him and without taking her eyes from his dipped her head enough to get the tip of his cock between her lips.         She nursed the head, licking carefully and lightly, sucking at the tip, gathering saliva to wash it with.  She continued to look in his eyes as her mouth slipped a bit further down, covering the entire head now, still licking and sucking.  She massaged the fleshy knob with her tongue, applying various pressures, changing the speed of her tongue.  She continued this for a few minutes.  Then he saw the corners of her mouth curl up a bit as she suddenly sank her mouth all the way to his belly, sucking and swallowing.  His toes curled up even more than her lips and he stiffened, the action thrusting his erection further into her throat.  She pushed back as if trying to gain another millimeter of flesh.  When she felt him start to relax, she eased back until her mouth again covered only the head.  She began again.  She repeated the act; sucking and licking.  She continued for many minutes, judging how aroused he was becoming.  As she felt him tremble she made one more trip but this time as she bottomed out she reached down with her hand and cupped her palm under her pussy.  She worked a finger under the rings securing her labia together far enough to release the flood that had been trapped there.  She caught the palm full of fluid and reached further back, smearing around and in her anus.  She repeated the action, making sure that her pucker was well lubricated.  Charles was very well hung.  Obviously not the largest cock in the house, but excepting the Roscoes, one of the largest. 

       She caught another dollop and looked over at Mistress Christine as she withdrew her mouth from the base of his cock.  The Mistress was observing very carefully.  Her legs were crossed; the short skirt ridding up her thighs.  If she were to uncross them, a very soaked thong would be revealed.

       Tuesday pulled her mouth off of Charles' cock and smoothly brought the pussy slime up and coated it with the fragrant liquid. Then in a continuing movement she turned around, bent down slightly and squatted, guiding the shaft into her anus.  She sank down and began to put her exercises to practice.  She couldn't see, but Christine could, as Charles' eyes widened and he swallowed, just before taking a deep breath.  A moan followed as he closed his eyes.  Tuesday turned her head around far enough to assure herself that her efforts were effective.  Then she lifted her butt from his lap and began to fuck his cock with her ass.  Christine squirmed, watching the performance.  She would need a bit of personal attention herself in a few minutes.

       Tuesday clasped the cock in her ass and massaged it with her sphincter.  She effectively milked the shaft, trying to determine how close he was to losing his load.  She didn't want that to happen yet.  His hands were on her hips, stroking the firm flesh, running his hands up and down her thighs. She felt him begin to tremble again so she slipped off the cock, turning back around and swallowed the shaft to the bottom once more.  Christine jumped at the action and saw a grinning Tuesday looking back at her.  Tuesday lifted his balls and caressed them carefully; then she pulled her mouth away to give his balls a quick but thorough washing.  She returned her mouth to his cock and again looked into his eyes.  She started bobbing her head while swallowing, sucking hard all the way to the root and back to the head.  Her cheeks hollowed, her throat muscles working hard.  She felt his hands on the side of her head as she watched his eyes roll back and close.  She pressed her mouth hard to his loins and felt the shaft jerk as it jetted his load directly down her throat.  She swallowed and kept swallowing until he gently held her head and moved it away.

       “Stop.” He croaked.  “At least for a few minutes.  No more right now.”  At last he opened his eyes, looking at her; but they didn't seem to focus on her.  Tuesday glanced over at Christine.  She had uncrossed her legs, holding them squeezed tightly together; her hands clenched into fists pressing into her crotch.  She was biting her upper lip and her eyes looked to be moist.  Tuesday sat back on her heels.

       “Was this slut's performance satisfactory, sir?”  She asked.  Charles nodded, pursing his lips.

       “Very.  Very.”  Was all he said.  She turned to Christine.

       “Ma'am?”  She asked.  Christine was apparently surprised as well as pleased.  She just nodded her head.

       “Yes.  Most satisfactory.”  What Christine wanted right then was to grab Tuesday's head and force her face into the very wet crotch Christine was holding with her fists.  And Tuesday would have been more than happy to oblige.  But that wouldn't fit into the cool, collected character that Christine cultivated.  So she simply said:

       “I think that modifications won't be required.  I believe you are equipped rather well already.  We'll just continue your training.  Anything else, Charles?”  She asked.  He shook his head.

       “Not at this time.”  He said. He had regained a bit of composure.  “That was rather spectacular.  And I've had spectacular before.  You may go back to your day.” 

       “Thank you, sir.  Thank you, Mistress.”  Tuesday smiled at them both and rose, turned and went out the door.  Once the door had closed Charles looked over at his wife.

       “Darling...you're wonderful and I do love you tremendously.  But that was as good a blowjob and ass fuck as I've ever had.  Donald is right.  Her name should be Delicious.”  Christine gazed back at him.

       “Delicious, then, she is.”  She replied.

       

       

       

       

Chapter 32

       As Tuesday stepped through the door, Sheila closed it behind her.

       “How was it?”  Sheila asked.  She could see that Tuesday's attitude was much improved from when she went in.

       “It was...it was great.”  Tuesday replied.  Her happiness over not being diminished was tempered by the fact that Sheila might be.  Sheila saw the change in the middle of the reply.

       “What's wrong all of a sudden?”  Sheila asked.

       “They aren't going to have me chopped up like Helena.”  Tuesday said, but her tone was guarded.

       “That's GREAT!”  Shelia gushed.  But she noticed Tuesday looking at her from the corners of her eyes, but not looking at her directly.  “Something's up.  What is it?”  Tuesday hesitated then replied slowly:

       “They aren't going do do me.  But that doesn't mean that they aren't going to do...someone.”  Sheila thought for a moment.  She paled.

       “Ohh....oh God!  NO!...You don't....”  Sheila stopped, turned pushed into Tuesday, her cuffed wrists preventing her from grabbing Tuesday and shaking her.  She pushed Tuesday up against the wall in the hall way.  Tears streamed down her cheeks, a grimace on her face.

       “YOU”RE LYING!  NO!  THEY CAN'T! THEY...”  The realization sank in that, indeed, they could.  Sheila sank down to the floor.  She sobbed, looking back and forth at the floor.  Tuesday knelt beside her.

       “They didn't say that they ARE going to do it.  They said that the possibility still exists.  They...actually it was Charles...said that 'everyone has to be personally responsible.'  They think that you've not been living up to their expectations.”  Tuesday spoke calmly. “Just like what the Lady Beth said.  I don't know the whole situation here, but you need to talk to Charles.  Ask Lady Beth for an audience.  Talk to some one about it. They changed their mind about me.  Maybe if you talk to someone...”  Sheila interrupted. 

       “You don't ask for an audience.  You get an invitation.  That's how it works.  It's her house.  Her show. She makes the rules.  If you don't like it - tough.  They cut your arms and legs off and sell you to some whorehouse.”  Sheila had calmed somewhat but her words were bitter as acid.  Tuesday took the blonde's shoulders and turned her to face her.

       “What did you think when you came here?  I don't know why you're here, but it had to be because you fucked up or fucked over somebody.  She paid your debts.  Gave you an escape.  You traded your future for your past.  She paid for your past.  She owns your future.  Coming here was a new start.  A chance to change.  If you don't change in the way she wants, she'll change you to the way SHE wants.  You better get over it while you still can.” 

       Tuesday saw some realization come to Sheila's eyes.  The blonde tried to wipe her eyes on her shoulder; Tuesday helped her by wiping the tears with her fingers.  Sheila's nose was running; neither had anything to help that.

       “Let's get you cleaned up.”  Tuesday said, helping Sheila to her feet.  They went to the shower and toilet room.  Tuesday helped her blow her nose and washed her face.  They went to the Lady Beth's lair.  They found her sitting in a chair; an amused expression on her face.

       “It took you long enough.  Did you stop for coffee?”  The Lady asked.

       “We...we stopped by the toilets, mistress.”  Tuesday answered.  Sheila wasn't yet safe to answer.  Her eyes were still red and swollen, obviously upset.  The Lady stood and walked over to Sheila.  The Lady took Sheila's chin in her hand and turned her face back and forth, studying her countenance.  Sheila took great pains to not look into the Lady's eyes.  Fear danced her eyes back and forth.

       “Is...something...wrong?”  The Lady asked slowly.  Sheila closed her eyes and shook her head.

       “No...Mistress.  Noth...nothings wrong.”  Sheila answered shakily.  The Lady tilted her head to one side.

       “Look at me.”  She ordered quietly.  When the blonde opened her eyes and looked into hers the Lady continued.  “Let's try that one again.”  The Lady glanced at Tuesday then back into Sheila's eyes.  “Is...something...wrong?”  This time Sheila broke down.

       “She...the Mistress...she's going to have me...diminished.”  The girl began to sob again, her head drooping down to her chest.  Her shoulders racked with sobs.

       “Well.” The Lady said somewhat lightly “That's a bitch, isn't it?”  Sheila's head snapped up, anger in her eyes.

       “Not for fucking you, it's not.” Her words were loud and harsh.  “You're not the one who's going to be turned into a warm bag of fuck holes for some bastards in Bangkok or somewhere to fuck like a meat puppet.”  The Lady stepped back a half step and sharply slapped Sheila across the cheek.  The resounding crack made Tuesday jump.

       “That's the attitude that could get you that reward.  When you came here you understood that you would be property, didn't you?”  The Lady asked sharply.  Sheila nodded. “You were told, just like Tuesday here, that if you became what you were supposed to you would live.  If you didn't...that you would die.  Weren't you?”  Sheila nodded again.  “Did you think she was just kidding?”  Sheila shrugged her shoulders.  “She wasn't.  This isn't a nursery school.  Most everything here is pretty much legal...though there are a few people who would like the opportunity to challenge that assertion.  You came here after agreeing to the terms.  The Mistress paid a ton of money to get your lazy ass out of a major jam.  Would you be alive today if she hadn't helped you?”  Sheila frowned and pouted, shaking her head.  Would you rather take your chances with a certain fellow from Columbia or be a 'bag of fuck holes' in Thailand?”  Sheila paled again at the choice.  Tears began to run down her cheeks once more.

       “I'd rather die.  I'd be dead anyway after Carlos finished with me.  But he would take a long time.”  Sheila looked into the Lady's eyes.  “Being a meat puppet wouldn't be any better.  It would just take longer.”  The desperation in Sheila's eyes told the Lady that Sheila had reached her nadir.

       “So.  Maybe there is an alternative.”  The Lady paused to see if her words were sinking in.  Sheila was listening intently.  “You will not be given an opportunity to harm yourself.  You are the Mistress's property; you have no right to harm it.  Suicide is out of the question.  If she wants to make an example of you, she will.”  The Lady looked over at Tuesday.  “Now I have another problem.  Sheila is supposed to be your escort...but now she can't be allowed to have such a responsibility.  You're the house slut until she heals sufficiently.  But that might be a few more days.”  The Lady began to examine the bruised breasts and pussy of the girl before her.  The swelling was less, but she wasn't quite ready for the abuse that the Lady knew she would receive when her turn as house slut began.  The Lady looked up at Sheila.  “Do you want another chance to start over?”  Sheila started nodding vigorously.

       “Please.  Lady Beth, please let me start over. Please.  I'll do anything...”  The Lady interrupted her.

       “WRONG!  IF the Mistress allows it...and I don't know that she will...you will NOT do anything!  You will do exactly what you are told.  When you are told.  For as long as you are told.  And you will not just put up with it.  You will enjoy it.  WHEN...if you get the chance...when you are told to suck off every stallion in the stable you will enthusiastically get on your knees and attempt to get those cocks down your throat.  You will experience bliss when they fill your mouth with semen.  You won't be a retching, puking worm when they get off.  You will enjoy it as much as they do. When you crawl into Joker's kennel you'll grab his cock and stuff the whole thing, including the knot, into your ass and be sad when he finally fills your worthless ass with cum and jerks his knot away.  Then you'll crawl over to clean it until he cums in your mouth.  Understand?”  Sheila gulped and nodded again.  “The Roscoe's will have their fun with you...” Sheila blanched at that thought.  “You'll take their cocks up your ass every time they slow down long enough for you to climb on.  You can't take them far enough up your nasty little cunt for them to feel much....Of course if they want to, you'll accommodate them...but you'll take them in your ass until you feel a lump in your throat then rub your belly to get them off faster.  Your first stint as house slut wasn't too bad.  Everyone was taken by how cute and innocent you played.  That's over.  They know you now.  And IF you get the chance, I'll encourage them all to remember all the little things since then.” 

       Sheila hung her head, tears falling to the floor, her head nodding in agreement.

       “Would all that be better than Carlos...or Thailand?”  The Lady asked.  Shelia looked up and nodded slowly.

       “Thank you, mistress.  Thank you...”  Sheila started but the Lady cut her off with a wave of her hand.

       “I didn't say that this is going to happen.  I said I would ask.  That is all.  For all I know the Surgeon is already scheduled to arrive.  If that is the case, then another start won't happen.  I'll ask.” The Lady said firmly.  Sheila fell to the floor and started kissing the Lady's feet.

       “Please.   Please.  Please ask.  Thank you for that.  I can change.  I will change.  I won't be a bitch any...”  The Lady reached down and held her chin and spoke to her:

       “There isn't any 'I'.  You're a slut.  You just crawled lower than Tuesday in your private little compost pile. You've seen Helena worship the Mistress's asshole?”  Sheila swallowed and nodded.  “You're going to worship mine.  Perhaps the Mistress's as well.  Definitely Helena's.”  The Lady looked up at Tuesday.  “Ever had your asshole sucked clean and empty?”  Tuesday shook her head negatively.  “Sheila here would love to do just that.  Wouldn't you, worm slut?”  Sheila swallowed again, considering. 

       “Yes.  Please.  May this slut worship your asshole, Miss Tuesday?   May this slut serve your ass all night, Lady Beth?”  Sheila asked contritely.  “May this slut serve this house in any way desired?”

       “We'll see.”  The Lady Beth answered.

Chapter 33

       “When do we announce 'Delicious' to the house?”  Charles asked his wife.  Christine was still holding her fists against her crotch; certain the chair seat was soaked beneath her.

       “We'll have a 'coming out' party, or maybe it will be a 'cumming all over her' party.”  Christine answered.  “It'll be a gangbang, of course.  Nothing she hasn't done before.  But I want her to have a different experience at this one.  But I need something along those lines         right now.”  Her face was flushed, perspiration ran off of her forehead.

       “She is exciting, isn't she?”  Charles asked.  “Got your motor racing just watching.”

       “Darling, she's incredible to watch.  She's incredible to experience.  Now I just need a big cock to suck and fuck for an hour or three.  But after seeing what she did to you I don't know if you're ready...”  Christine said.  Charles shook his head.

       “Not for a while.  Tonight - certainly.  But I gather that you don't want to wait that long...”  The exchange was interrupted by the phone ringing.  Charles went around to the other side of the desk, opened a drawer and picked up the handset.

       “Yes?”  He said sharply.  A voice on the other end apologized but said he might want to watch a recent recording.  Charles moved his clothes and sat down, motioning for his wife to join him.  He pressed a button and a section of the desk swung up on a hidden hinge, revealing a 21” flat screen monitor and a keyboard with trackball.  He touched the switch and rolled the track ball.  A menu of files popped up.  He chose one titled 'Office hallway' with the day's date on it.  He clicked it and the split screen showed two views of Sheila and Tuesday right after they had left the Office.  The two owners watched the interchange between the two women and Charles closed the page and returned the screen to the recess.  Charles picked up the handset and pressed a button.  There was a pause as the person picked up.

       “Nice catch.  Thank you.  Good decision to call.  Can you enhance the audio a bit?” A murmur came from the other end and Charles replied:

       “Fine.  Very good.  There's an 'attaboy' coming for that.” Charles hung up the phone.  He turned to his wife.  “They are going to see if they can get a clearer audio out of it...but I think we already have the gist of it.  He's already recording what's happening in Beth's little dungeon.  Now...do you really have to get that hot little cunt stuffed...or can it wait until tonight?”

       “If you don't object, I can get Helena to give me a few quality minutes.  She hasn't had a chance to worship at her alter lately.  Would that be permitted?”  Christine asked.  Charles considered the request.

       “Make sure she spends at least one hour getting you worked up.  Then at least three cums.  In a row.”  He answered.

       “Charles.   You can be so cruel.  I'm already worked up.  And if she gets me off three times I might pass out.  I'll be frazzled tonight.”  She smiled and batted her eyes at him.

       “I could make it two hours and six cums...and have the Toymaker bring up something to entertain your ass while you suck my cock all evening.”  He smiled back at her, a twinkle in his eye.  She stuck her tongue out a little and pouted.

       “Meany.  Thank you for the hour and three.  You're still the cruelest person I've ever known.”  She said teasingly.

       “You wouldn't love me if I wasn't” Charles retorted.  “Or at least not as much.”

       “I can't imagine how I could not love you as much as I do.  Even if you weren't so cruel.”  Christine answered.  She bent down and attempted to deep throat him with her tongue.  Her fingers teased his cock.  When it twitched she giggled. 

       “Keep it happy.  I want to make it delirious tonight.”  She said.  She gave a little wave as she left the room.  Charles gave a sigh and sat back in his chair.  When they built this place he hoped it would prove interesting. 

       “Curiouser and curiouser.”  He said to no one.

       

Chapter 33

       The Lady Beth decided that Sheila would be put in “storage” for a few days; at least until her bruises had healed sufficiently to allow her to take the abuse that returning to duty as house slut would garner.  She was secured on a bed in her cell; wrists, ankles and collar locked to cables anchored to the floor. All were padded to protect the skin.  A hood insured that ear buds would stay in place and that her eyes were looking at the image projected on the screen mounted on the ceiling.

       Remarkably, Tuesday was present to watch the process of putting Sheila into storage.  The beautiful redhead stood in one corner of the small room as the Roscoes efficiently went through the process.  Occasionally one or the other of the huge men would glance at her and grin, but little was said.  Sheila was silent through the ordeal, her attitude more resigned.  As they finished John leaned down close to her ear and said:

       “It's just for a few days; until you've healed enough.  The decision will be made by then.  This training will be good practice for you regardless of which way she decides.  Are you going to learn to be a good little cock sucker and ass fucker?”  She nodded, smiling around the soft plastic penis in hr mouth.

       “Yes Master.  This slut will be a good little whore for you and Master Joe.”  She replied. Joe leaned down and surprised her by giving her a gentle kiss on her temple.

       “Whores get paid for it.  You're going to do it because you love it.  Just like Tuesday” Joe said after his lips left her skin.  She nodded.  They dimmed the lights and left the room, Tuesday walking between them, her quirt gently swaying as she walked.

Chapter 34

       They returned to the Lady Beth's domain where the Lady motioned for Tuesday to lie face down on a padded massage table.  Her wrists and ankles were secured as usual, but her face rested in an oval cradle.  A strap across the base of her skull insured immobility.  Another strap crossed her upper back.  Tuesday felt the cool sensation of liquid being spread across the base of her neck.  She smelled Betadine and wondered what would happen.  A burning sensation grew from the area where her neck joined her shoulders, low enough that her collar wouldn't irritate it.  She felt another pain as something stuck into her skin, she could feel the tightness of her skin from whatever was poking her.  The poking stopped but the tightness remained.  Another stinging as the Lady Beth applied surgical adhesive to the small incision she had made.  Tuesday's RFID tracking chip was installed.  Tracking transceivers were mounted at all entry points throughout the facility, in each room and at measured points along each hallway.  A computerized tracking system kept tabs on all chipped assets continually.  This allowed immediate access for those authorized to check the surveillance system and watch any asset in real time or review recorded views of previous activities.  It wasn't a cheap system.

       Tuesday guessed what was being done.

       “Mistress?”  Tuesday asked.

       “What?”  The Lady Beth asked in a suspicious tone.  Tuesday remembered the admonition against questions.  Her observation of Sheila's storage just moments before quenched her curiosity.

       “Please excuse this slut for speaking, Mistress.”  Tuesday replied.  Smiling, the Lady Beth began cleaning off the Betadine.

Chapter 35

       Since Tuesday was tagged, had met the residents and had an assigned responsibility; she was given more freedom to move about the facility.  Everyone, including Charles and Christine was required to exercise a minimum of an hour a day.  During the days prior to her introduction she worked out in the exercise room accompanied only by Sheila or another assistant.  Now she was allowed to use it at any time; as was everyone else.  Charles and Christine worked out in their own suite, but dropped by occasionally to watch the rest. 

       This gave her ample opportunity to be used by everyone.  The hour minimum rule was strictly enforced, so any dalliance to sample Tuesday's delightful talents had to be made up in exercise time.  But freed from the threat of amputations and a life as “a bag of fuckholes” as Sheila described it; Tuesday was able to revel in the life of house slut.  Her clit was still locked away, being constantly stimulated and her pussy was still sealed behind golden rings.  That left her with a talented mouth and an asshole that was still being trained for an additional hour each day.  She became a constant joy for the residents; receiving stripes only for their enjoyment, never as punishment.  Her pussy leaked its' fluid past the locked labia, streaming down her legs; a puddle under her kneeling form a common sight.

       Tuesday stepped into the exercise area as Don and Howie stepped out of the showers, finished with their workout.  Don grinned at Howie and received a smile and a nod in return.  Don grasped Tuesday's arm and gently led her over to a padded exercise horse.

       “Good morning Ms Tuesday.”  Don said lightly, smiling.

       “Good morning Mr. Donald.  Good Morning Mr. Howard.”  She replied with a grin.

       “Front or back?”  Howie asked Don.

       “Back, of course.  At least to start.  Want to do a stick and swap?” Don replied.

       “Works for me.”  Howie answered, showing a mouthful of beautiful teeth. 

       Tuesday draped herself over the horse, spreading her legs widely.  She spread her ass cheeks to accommodate Don and opened her mouth for Howie's tool to find its delightful place.  Don had found some oil from somewhere, applied it to his shaft and slipped inside Tuesday's ass.  Howie watched as Tuesday pressed her nose against his loins.  Her tongue and sucking mouth brought a grin back to his face.

       “Wonderful!”  Howie exclaimed.

       “She's delicious!”  Don answered.  A few yards away, Master Joe on an exercise bike and Master John on a rowing machine watched, also grinning.  Their turn would come next. As Tuesday fucked Howie's cock with her throat she could feel the quirt swaying from her collar.  Maybe one of them would tickle her ass or tits with it?

Chapter 36

       It was decided to leave Sheila “in the dark”, both literally and figuratively for a while longer.  Tuesday, however, received a change in responsibility.  Her enthusiasm for her position was so impressive that it was decided that her training would be incorporated into her house slut activities.  Stripes would still be a determinant of her performance, but now she had to beg FOR them.  She would find herself kneeling, groveling not just to be used sexually, but abused as well.

       “Turn around. Slowly.”  The Lady Beth instructed.  Tuesday was standing before her, undergoing her daily inspection.  “Right sole.”  Tuesday obediently lifted her right foot to reveal the lines delivered earlier.  “Left sole.”  The other foot was decorated similarly.  “Up.”  The Lady Beth indicated the examination chair.  Tuesday dutifully climbed in and watched the straps being applied.  As the Lady was finishing up, the Toymaker appeared, carrying a box.

       “New toys for the slut.”  He said, presenting the box to the Lady Beth.  She opened the box and glanced over the contents.

       “Nice.  I'm sure she'll hate them.”  The Lady responded.

       “Well, at first she probably will.  Hopefully they'll grow on her.”  He replied.

       “Some of these look like they might grow, sure enough.”  She laughed.  “This is gonna hurt.”  She said holding up a small cylinder.

       “Yep.  I figure it will.  For at least as long as she is wearing it...maybe even after it's removed.”  He said.

       “And this?”  She said indicating a strange device attached to some tubing.

       “Ahh yes.  The scrubber.  And this…” He pointed to a bottle containing some grayish liquid “Is the antiseptic.  It should be diluted.  You know the strengths, I believe.”  She nodded in response. “There is a video on the server on how to utilize it. Perhaps in conjunction with a more vigorous training level.”

       “You mean you don't want me to use all of them together?” She asked, jokingly.

       “Not the first time.  The point is to acclimate her to each of them.  Maybe all together later.  But the scrubber is really a limited use item.  I suspect that it will be pretty intense.”  He told her.

       “Intense?  A cattle prod against the cervix is intense.  She would probably like that compared to this!”  The Lady said, now laughing.  She gave the Toymaker a gentle nudge in the ribs with an elbow.  “You're really a sick fucker, you know that?”  He grinned.

       “So you don't want to use these little goodies?”  He asked.

       “Oh heavens. I can hardly wait. I'm at least as sick as you are.  Hell, I'm thinking about giving you a blow job just for thinking up these little toys.”  She said, still laughing.  The Toymaker's eyes grew wide and he turned to look at Tuesday.

       “SHE offered me a blow job!”  He exclaimed, shocked at the thought.  “I thought you only went for pussy.  And management pussy at that.”

       “You're management.  And sometimes you can be a pussy, too.”  She teased.  “I'll get the Roscoes to hold you down while I blow you.”  He grimaced at that thought.

       “You don't need the Rosoces.  I'll cum quietly.” He grinned at the joke.  “Or at least peacefully.  Would you care for a gentle poking first?”

       “Maybe.”  She replied.  “Would you mind if I closed my eyes, though?  Those things scare me when they get too close.”

       “What about the Roscoes?”  He asked.  She shuddered.

       “I have nightmares after just watching them fuck someone.”  She said and shuddered again.  “You're quite large enough, thank you.”

       “Tonight, then?”  He asked.

       “You're serious?”  She asked in return.

       “I never joke about sex.  At least not about scheduling it. Don't let your lips write a check your tongue can't cash.” He answered, grinning.

       “Hmm.  Maybe.  Your place or mine?” She inquired.

       “Mine.  I have better toys.”  He said.  Her eyebrows went up at that.

       “I'm sure you do.”  She replied.  With that he winked at Tuesday and left. 

       The Lady Beth stirred around in the contents of the box, examining the toys that the Toymaker had made.  Tuesday had a large knot growing in her stomach.  The exchange didn't sound too inviting.  The Lady turned and looked at her captive.

       “I think you already know the plan.  The goal is to turn you into a true pain slut.  You're already well on the way.  So we're just going to finish the job properly.  There will be pain, but also pleasure.  Up until now you haven't been allowed to have an orgasm.  Now, at certain times, you will.  Sometimes you'll have a lot of them.  Eventually you'll only be able to orgasm accompanied with pain.  And you're going to want to cum a lot.  The Mistress is good at it. You have a lot to look forward to.  I'm going to enjoy every minute of it.  So will you.”  She smiled at Tuesday, but Tuesday still wasn't convinced.

       The Lady pulled a stool over between Tuesday's spread thighs and pulled a cart with the box of toys over next to it.  She sat down, examining the pussy displayed before her.  The rings held the labia closed, though fluid seeped out past the swollen lips.  She tapped the hard shell of the clit shield.

       “This thing keeping you horny?”  She asked

       “Yes, mistress.  Very.”  Tuesday replied.

       “Good.  That's the point.  You're going to keep wearing it for a while, but you get to use this thing as well.”  She flicked the rings with a finger.  The Lady Beth began removing the rings from the labia, replacing them with individual bars.  When she completed that task she picked up a speculum and gently parted the lips.  Tuesday was already soaked; extra lubrication wasn't necessary. The Lady wiped the ends of the speculum around, picking up the natural lube and introduced it between the labia.  Tuesday relaxed her muscles and the speculum slid in easily.  The Lady turned a wheel and the sections parted, revealing the glistening, pink interior.  She picked up a small, curious circular item and examined it.  Tuesday couldn't see it, so she didn't try.  Another small device was fitted to the circle.  The Lady looked carefully at the sharp prongs curled around towards the inside of the circle.  Two plastic bars crossed over the center of the circle; small spikes protruded from the underside of each.  At the center where they crossed another, longer, thicker but blunter spike protruded out.  The circle itself was of a gleaming, grey-white metal.  Everything but the points themselves was polished smooth.  The Lady guided the circle with the inserter, manipulating it to surround the cervix; the center spike slightly sliding into the opening itself.  Tuesday squirmed and jerked as the circle was pushed home, the ring fitting tightly around the protuberance, the claws sinking into the soft flesh.  The Lady picked up a sound and pressed against the crossed bars in the circle.  They flexed, and as the spikes sank into the sensitive spot Tuesday gasped.  The center spike served to fuck the opening of the cervix itself. The spikes weren't sharp enough to cut, but certainly sharp enough to feel. After a half dozen or so large, energetic cocks battering it, that little nubbin would be sore for sure.

       The Lady removed the speculum and reached around to release the belt.  She examined the piercings which were healing nicely; and cleaned up the area.  The Lady removed the curved bar in the Isabella and replaced it with one slightly thicker, longer and with much larger balls on the ends.  The deep hood piercing received a larger and heavier one as well. She replaced the tickler with a larger one to stimulate the clit even more and then refastened the belt.  The straps were removed and the Lady motioned for Tuesday to rise.

       “Walk around.  Move. Bend, squat, kneel.  Tell me what you feel in different positions.”  The Lady told her.  Tuesday got up and obeyed her mistress.  She bent over, twisted around, squatted; knelt.  At once point when she squatted down close to the floor Tuesday winced.  Also when she bent over and twisted.

       “Mistress, it hurts in a few positions...but not terribly.” Tuesday said.

       “Is it a sensual pain...or just hurts?”  The Lady asked.

       “It hurts.  It feels strange.  It isn't a turn on.  I feel the bars in my piercings move around.”  Tuesday replied.

       “Hmm.  Okay.  That'll work.  Because eventually I want you to be able to cum from a toothache.”  The Lady stated.  Tuesday frowned at that.

       “Will this slut be given a toothache, mistress?”  Tuesday asked and suddenly remembered about questions.  “This slut is sorry, mistress.  Questions are forbidden.  It's hard sometimes to remember.”  Tuesday said apprehensively.

       “That's alright.  This time.  And no, I don't plan on giving you a toothache.”  The Lady answered.  “Now it's time to go do your chores.”  The Lady motioned to the door.

       “Yes, mistress.  Thank you mistress.”  Tuesday said.  The Lady looked puzzled.  “For your kindness.”  Tuesday filled her in.  The Lady smiled.

       “Carry on.”  She said. And Tuesday left.

       Tuesday had daily chores as well now.  All assets were required to perform cleaning and similar maintenance duties as well as their slave duties.  Recording for sale wasn't done everyday, nor did visitors come to enjoy the pleasures available daily.  It was a big place so cleaning was a constant activity. 

       Tuesday was assigned to the common area showers and toilets.  Generally her wrists were cuffed behind her; a cleaning brush attached to a cock gag strapped into her mouth with a head harness.  When someone wished to avail themselves of Tuesday's delights they would remove the harness for her to beg, plead and grovel for her punishment and fucking.  Some simply removed the harness and plugged their cocks into her mouth or held their pussy against it, using the quirt to slash her ass.  She would also beg for them to use her mouth as their urinal before they left...which most did.  Once she had spent a few hours in the toilet, she went in search of more candidates.  Each doorway had a red and a green led set discretely in the door frame.  Areas restricted to her would signal with a soft chime and a red led.  If she proceeded past the area someone – probably the Roscoes – would retrieve her none too gently.  She found a restricted area and walked up to it until the chime sounded and backed away.  She expected that whoever was in the monitoring office would see her, so she did this several times.  When she figured that they were watching she sank down onto her knees, pulling her labia apart.  She thumped the clit protector and cupped her hand to catch the fluid running out of her pussy and licked her palm.  Then she looked up at the cameras and grinned at the viewer. 

       “MMMmmm.  This is so good.  Would you come down here and whip me?  And fuck me?  Please?”  She ground her ass against the floor.  “I need a good whipping.  And a good fucking.  Please?  You haven't fucked me enough.  Please?”   She would use the quirt to slash her breasts and moan, then lick her lips and her palm; renewing the flavoring sauce. She continued the action until, sure enough, one of the video techs showed up.

       “Seems like the little house slut is horny.”  He said.  He grinned at her, she grinned back.

       “The house slut needs a good hard fucking.  There seems to be a shortage of hard cocks around here.  Perhaps you can help.  Would you be so kind as to whip my tits and ass.  Then give me a good hard fucking?  You're Master Chuck, I believe.”  She asked.  She offered the quirt to him.  He took it.

       “Mr. Chuck.” He corrected. “Lean back.”  He said. She leaned back, supporting herself with her hands on the floor. He checked the nipple piercings then gave a smooth, light slash across her breasts.  He followed it with another, backhand.  His swings increased in strength, the lines forming across the mounds.  He moved up to just under her neck; then back down to the tops of her breasts.  He pinched one nipple, holding it up and stretching the boob so that the skin on the underside was tight.  He began slashing the underside, holding the nipple over so that the middle flesh was exposed.  She softly moaned continuously, eyes closed.  The tech dropped the nipple and pinched the other one, hard.  He twisted as he lifted and continued stroking the quirt across and around.  Once he had assured himself that both breasts were thoroughly stimulated he pushed against her chest until she was on her back.  Chuck put her left ankle next to her left ear; she automatically followed with the other one.  She reached down and spread her pussy open.

       “This cunt has been naughty.  It needs to be punished.  Please?”  She asked.  He grinned and knelt down in front of her.  She grasped the back of her knees and pulled herself even further over, exposing her ass hole, squirming to spread her cheeks even more.  He grinned and swung the quirt.  The slash made her gasp.

       “Thank you.  Another please?”  She asked.  Another slash.  “Ahhh...more, please.  Can you make me cum? Please?”

       “I'll try.”  He said.  And try he did.  But she wasn't ready to cum from just whipping her asshole and pussy so finally he dropped his shorts and plunged his cock into her soaking, burning cunt.  The end of his cock hammered the ring on her cervix.  She gasped and cried out; the mixture of pleasure and pain conflicting within her mind.  The larger tickler did its job, stroking and teasing her clit as Chuck pounded away.  The new bars in her piercings flopped back and forth as she was pounded. The rubbing on the inside of the root of her clitoris produced new sensations. Tears flowed down past her ears as he filled her cunt, her cervix spasming from the spikes while the tickler worked its magic on her clit. 

       She came first; she grabbed him, holding him to her, bucking her hips back against him.  Her intensity sent him over the top, filling her with his fluid, adding to the soaking mess in her cunt.  He relaxed, laying on her, until at last he pulled out and rolled over onto the floor.  She sat up and immediately took his cock into her mouth, cleaning it and sucking on it until he pushed her head away.

       “Enough.  I'm too sensitive right now.”  Chuck told her.  “You really are phenomenal.”  She grinned at him lifted the hand that had been cupping her pussy, catching the torrent that flowed.  She put the palm to her lips and put the other hand back down to catch more of it.  She continued grinning as she harvested the results of their fucking.

       “And together we're delicious.”  She said, licking at her hand.  “Don't want to waste this.  And beside, the floor has just been cleaned.”  He shook his head, marveling at the beautiful woman glowing beside him.

       

Chapter 37

       Tuesday was assigned the task of being one of the monitors of Sheila's storage.  Video and audio monitoring was done constantly, but a human also visited at least hourly to make sure that there weren't any problems that the remote monitoring might have missed.

       Sheila was “enjoying” several of the Toymaker's designs.  Conductive adhesive patches were attached to either side of both nipples.  Another was applied the hood of her clit.

A large phallic probe with a conductive tip was mounted in her pussy so as to maintain contact with her cervix.  A double bulb enema retention nozzle was installed in her ass.  A circular contact area on the inner bulb pressed back against her sphincter.  Her bowels were flushed several times a day; most of her nutrition was delivered through her colon by retention enema. In front of her mouth, actually sticking into her mouth; was a sensor cock.  The device registered how often and how deep the shaft went into her mouth.  A switch mounted on the flange at the end required that her lips push it hard enough to register.  The phallus was long enough that her gag reflex would be tested with every stroke.  Sensors detected how much suction and how much tongue pressure was applied.  All this combined to determine how much liquid or semi-liquid nourishment she would receive.  It would also indicate how enthusiastically she performed. 

       The conductive pads were connected to a modified Tens unit.  A lack of enthusiasm would cause her to receive a variety of shocks to encourage better performance.  The shocks would also be delivered just to punish her.  Sheila had to throat fuck herself with the phallus to prevent being shocked so often as well as to earn her food and water.  The food was a protein based smoothie, though not very favorable.  Really...it tasted pretty nasty. The reward varied between the smoothie and semen provided by the males – both human and non-human; and water and urine, also from the same sources as the semen.  She had no idea which one she would receive next; or how many strokes it would take for her to earn a reward.  She had to fuck herself, regardless.

       At the same time a series of videos were projected on the screen above her.   She could stroke and watch at the same time.  The earbuds provided a variety of audio lessons.  It would vary from the actual audio from the video or “motivational” lectures provided by the Lady Beth, the Mistress herself, or others.  The command to stop arrived periodically, giving her a chance to relax her burning neck muscles.  The rest period never seemed to last long enough.

       Tuesday stepped in, understanding her orders to inspect Sheila for bedsores, any raw marks from the manacles, or any other issues she might see.  She stepped up to the side near Sheila's head and looked into the girl's eyes.  Sheila, not able to hear Tuesday's approach was startled; then glanced up at the screen and back down at Tuesday.  She looked back up at the screen and Tuesday reflexively followed her gaze.  She glanced back down at Sheila who looked back toward the screen.  Something registered in Tuesday's mind and she looked back up to the ceiling.  The image puzzled her.  The image was clear, though lacking in color and was somewhat grainy, as if it was shot in a low light area. On screen a lovely pair of legs framed a pussy being fisted by its owner while another woman's wrist protruded from the asshole, her fist grinding around.  The surroundings seemed familiar, somehow; but somehow not.  Suddenly the scene registered in Tuesday's mind.  It was her hand and her pussy on the screen!  It was the first time she had been double fisted; the act occurring in a lesbian bar she had been escorted to.  She had never seen this recording before; she didn't know anyone had been recording.  It was probably taken by a cell phone, she realized.  Considering the circumstances, it wasn't such a bad recording.  Tuesday's pussy and asshole twitched at the remembrance.  A string of fluid escaped her pussy and stretched toward the floor. 

       The scene shifted to one recorded in house; Tuesday glanced down at Sheila, cheeks burning.

       “Did you enjoy it?”  Sheila asked around the cock in her mouth.  Tuesday nodded slowly.

       “Eventually. It was a shock at first.  A lot of things were.  Have you seen a lot of me up there?”  Tuesday pointed at the screen.

       “Some.  I don't know how much you've done.  But some of it must have hurt plenty.”  Sheila said.  Again Tuesday blushed.

       “Yes....it did.  Until I learned to like it.  Then I learned I needed it.  I became a pain junkie.  Pain and rough sex.  Humiliation.  Piss and gangbangs.  All of it.”  Tuesday answered.

       “Then I've got some more to see.” Sheila said.  A sharp tingle in her nipples reminded her to suck more and talk less.  She began sucking and stroking energetically. 

       Tuesday watched for a few minutes then looked up at the screen.  She wasn't the current feature so she checked Sheila's conditions and left the room.

       

Chapter 38

       A few hours after Tuesday left the Lady Beth stepped into Sheila's room.  The projection ceased; Sheila saw the Lady approach from the corner of her eye.  The Lady swung the phallus away from the bound girl's mouth and spoke; microphones in the room delivered her words to the earbuds.

       “The Mistress is still quite pissed.”  The Lady started.  Tears welled up in Sheila's eyes. “She has decided to give you the choice.  It is not an easy one.  Either way, you could be really fucked.”  The tears rolled down the side of Sheila's head.  “You will have until tomorrow to decide.  Here are the details.  One.  You can choose to be diminished...”  Shelia started shaking her head.  “Stop.  Do not respond until you hear the choices.  I will not accept a choice until tomorrow, anyway.”  The Lady began anew.  “You can choose to be diminished, with anesthesia, and retain all your other functionality.  You would be kept here as a compliment to Helena...sort of an almost matched set.  You would have similar duties as Helena both in the house and in the stables and kennels.  You would have to beg to be sold away...unless you really fucked up again.  You certainly have that potential.  Two.  You can be repurposed.  You would start here, tomorrow.  Your stay in storage will become very painful.  You will be trained as a paintoy fuckslut.  For the initial term, yet to be decided, you will be both a house slut and a stable slut.  Which includes the kennels. Three days a week in the house; four days a week outside. You will be a urinal for anyone.  You've been watching a little of what Tuesday went through before she came here.  You recognized her?”  Sheila nodded; silently, crying.  “She went through what she did because she enjoyed it.  You will learn to enjoy it.  Understand?”  Shelia nodded again. “Otherwise...here is the penalty.  I suspect that it will be worse than this, but this is the gist so far.  All without anesthesia.  You will be muted.  Either by cutting a vocal cord or injecting the larynx.  A little botox works, but it might wear off.  Other meds that will kill the nerves will also work.  They hurt.  But you won't be screaming loud enough for us to hear you.”  The Lady gave a grim smile.  “Your nipples will be removed with dental floss.”  Shelia looked puzzled.  “Extremely fine dental floss will be tied around your nipples.  Once the flesh swells you won't be able to remove it without tools.  Which you won't be able to use...because your thumbs will be dislocated and bound against the palms.  In a few weeks you'll have paws, not hands.  The nipples will die from lack of circulation.  The black scabs will be peeled off and the dead flesh cauterized. You will be circumcised.  First the clitoris will be extracted.  Not just excised with a scalpel; but pulled from your body like using a strawberry capper.  I'm sure the Toymaker has a design ready to be built.  The resulting cavity would be cauterized before being sutured shut.”  Sheila's eyes closed, a shudder went through her body.  “LOOK AT ME!”  The Lady shouted.  “Pay attention!  This isn't just some horror story to scare you.  This is what WILL happen to YOU!”  She paused while Sheila shook. “The labial lips will be removed back to a smooth surface.  The inside of your vagina will be scoured and sutured closed. All you will have will be two small holes; one to pee through and one for your menses to pass.  It will be too small for fucking; beside your cunt will have grown to itself so there won't be much in the way of a cunt behind the hole.  All you'll have to please a man with will be your ass and your mouth.  If you haven't fucked up too badly she might...MIGHT! Let you keep your tongue.  Only to bring a better return at auction.  Without a tongue you're even more limited in a whorehouse. Really fuck up and your eyeballs will be razored. You'll be sold at a no reserve auction.  If you don't know what that means...it means that you will be sold cheap.  A whorehouse in Thailand or Bangladesh.  Maybe a throwaway to an oil sheik in the mid east.  At that point you could be cheap entertainment as a disposable body for animal games.  When you lose...you become dinner.”  The Lady paused.  Sheila was in shock.  Nothing more would get through to her.  That didn't matter, though.  It would be played back to her later, the Lady's words repeated several times through the earbuds while the image played on the screen above.  By the time the Lady came back diminishment might seem to be the better option.

Chapter 39

       The projection stopped, the sound of footsteps resonated through Sheila's earbuds.  She looked down and watched the Lady remove the abhorrent phallus from her face.

       “I guess you've thought about your decision?”  The Lady asked.  Sheila nodded.

       “Yes, mistress.”  Sheila answered.  She wished this could take longer than it would.

       “What have you decided?”  The Lady inquired.

       “To be repurposed, mistress.”  Sheila looked at the Lady's chest, but not at her face.

       “Look at me.”  The Lady said.  “Tell me your answer again.”  Sheila complied, looking into the Lady's eyes.

       “Please allow me to be repurposed. I will...this slut will succeed, mistress.”  Sheila said. The Lady looked grim.

       “I doubt that you'll make it.  But I'll be pleased if you prove me wrong.  I'd rather see you succeed than either of the alternatives.  But if you fuck up you're going to spend the rest of your days in a living hell.”  The Lady said gently.  “Your time here won't be a picnic.  Especially the first few years.”  Sheila swallowed hard.  “Your repurpose training will take a few years.  The Mistress is still really pissed.  She's going to make it hard to succeed.  That's why I don't think you will.  Do you want to change your mind?”  Sheila shook her head.

       “No, mistress.  Please retrain this slut.  Find a suitable use for her.  For it.”  Sheila spoke through tears.

       “Yes...'it' is a better adjective.  You will be treated more like an animal...or an appliance...than a human.  But it's your choice.  You're absolutely sure?”  The Lady asked again.  Sheila nodded once more.  She looked into the Lady's eyes.

       “I'll be the best damn toilet you've ever put your ass on.  You're going to think your ass has grown a tongue.”  She smiled weakly and waggled her tongue at the Lady.  The Lady smiled back.

       “Bon Appétit!”  The Lady responded.

       The Lady Beth looked up toward the ceiling. 

       “Cart!”  She spoke to no one.  Suddenly a cart was pushed in by one of the female assistants.  A variety of items decorated the top.  The adhesive patches were abruptly removed; the sting of their removal nothing compared to the replacements.  The Lady Beth squeezed Sheila's left nipple and thrust a large fish hook through the base of the areola, running the point all the way to the other edge before turning it and pulling it the point through.  Two needles went through the nipple itself.  The process was repeated on the other side.  Monofilament lines trailed off of the eyes of the hooks.  The Lady stepped down to Sheila's crotch.  Four more hooks went lengthwise through each labium, their tails pulled off to the side.  The Lady spoke to Sheila:

       “This will sting a bit.”  The Lady lied...it hurt like hell.  The clitoral hood was stretched back and the clit pinched and pulled.  It swelled and stood out while the Lady's fingers held it steady.  Another fish hook was positioned with the point at the tip of the nubbin and slowly pushed down like she was threading a worm onto the curved stainless steel.  Sheila gasped and started to scream but a single “Don't!” from the Lady made her bite her lip instead.  Blood ran down her chin as the hook was turned and the point came out the bottom close to the base.  She flinched as the Lady tugged at the line tied to the eye of the hook.  Her clitoris resembled a small piece of bait.  The shaft in her pussy that had nestled close to her cervix was removed, replaced with a worse device.  This one could move.  The end was blunt, covered with metal pyramidal points.  The front section of the device could be slowly withdrawn, pulled back against a spring by an internal thread.  The base of the shaft was connected to the hooks passing through the labia.  The lines were tightened until the points were firmly pressed against the cervix.  The unit was already cocked, as short as it would go.  When released, the  shaft would slam hard against the cervix, the points battering the sensitive spot while an electrical charge would attack the flesh.  The path of discharge would be through a clip attached to the hook in her clit.  When the device was triggered the spring would stretch the labia, holding it from moving away from its target.  The sides were inflatable to further keep it aligned.  A very nasty device.

       Her double enema bulbs were removed.  The center tube was now an inch and a half in diameter.  The side of the outer bulb that contacted her anus was ringed with sharp metal points, the inner bulb also had points but the path of conduction went through her anus. 

       The line from the clit hook was fed through a pulley and attached to a spring connected to a weight.  Any movement would cause the weight to dance about on the spring, tugging merrily on her clit.  Similar pulleys provided mounting of sprung weights for the hooks in her areola.  A thin wire was attached to each hook as well as another to a needle in each nipple.  Naturally a catheter was threaded into her bladder and the retention bulb was inflated.  A conductive retention bulb. The catheter was clamped closed.

       “Your cuisine is being changed to better reflect your new diet.”  The Lady said as she replaced the cock in Sheila's mouth.  “More piss, less water.  Your smoothie will taste pretty shitty as well.”  She paused.  “This new storage condition will last until you are healed or until the Mistress decides to return you to your new duties.  Some of the chastisements will be to help you change...some are punishment.  It doesn't really matter at this point which is which.  The intent is to make your time in here uncomfortable.  Remember.  It can easily be made to be worse.  Enjoy your suffering.  That's the real message here.  Learn to enjoy it.  It was your decision.”  Sheila nodded as much as she could with the shaft stuck into her mouth.

       “Ank oo istess.”  She mumbled.

Chapter 40

       Sheila's training, i.e. punishment, began as soon as the Lady Beth closed the door.  The projector came on as the lights were dimmed. The process was certainly not scientific.  It was more a way of punishing Sheila for her prior recalcitrance.  The videos and accompanying shocks were used to perhaps motivate or educate her as to what her new preferences were to be.  Vanilla sex scenes featuring vaginal sex with orgasms were punctuated with a variety of shocks to her labia, clit and nipples, the pussy pounder was used to accentuate such orgasms.  The electrical impulses could be tuned to provide stimulation that was less than painful and could enhance arousal.  Never to the point of actual orgasm for her, however.  Oral and anal sex, especially accompanied with chastisement of some degree garnered less vicious stimulation.  More unconventional activities, such as golden showers and piss drinking, asshole worship or extended flogging, were delivered with arousing stimulation to enhance her reception. 

       Many of the videos were recorded in the house.  Others were either commercially produced or provided by associates of the house. The Toymaker had designed the pulley system so that they could be backed off, releasing the tension on her nipples, labia and clit when the less punishing episodes were shown. The hooks were still in place, but the reduced tension provided relief from the constant pain.

       Midway through the second day a video came on that was clearly recorded in house.  The scenes followed a woman that Sheila had never seen before.  In her earbuds a voice that sounded like Mistress Christine said “Watch very carefully”.  It appeared that this asset, an attractive brunette with green eyes, had been acquired and transitioned out before Sheila had arrived.  What struck her as unusual was that many of the scenes seem to mirror Sheila’s own behavior.  Her reluctance to perform enthusiastically, whether in the stables and kennels, performing her house slut duties or her attitude in general, all seemed familiar.  The videos were all produced with the house professionalism, a familiar look to the bound Sheila.  The scene changed, drapes that were recognizable to a member of the house, though not necessarily to an outsider, disguised an area that Sheila wasn’t familiar with.  The girl was accompanied by strange men, not easily identifiable. A vise mounted on a metal framed pyramid sat on the floor.  Hands that Sheila recognized as the Toymaker’s (though his face was never shown) manipulated thick cuffs with rivets protruding from one side.  The woman’s wrists were slipped inside the cuffs, the cuffs placed in the vise and the vise closed the cuffs so that the rivets entered matching holes in the other end of the cuff.  A pneumatic riveter was used to fasten the cuffs, anklets and collar permanently on the woman.  While her hands were locked behind her dental floss was looped around her areolas and tightened severely.  Her shocked face was interrupted by the installation of a cock gag shoved into her mouth and pulled tightly around her head then locked.

       The next scene showed a desolate landscape. A sweeping panoramic shot displayed miles of nothingness.  The camera panned rough terrain and sparse scrub with nothing within sight until it stopped on a group standing not far from an SUV.  In the distance a figure was lying on the ground; a man was driving a stake with a sledge hammer.  The scene cut to a closer shot of the hammer striking the end of the last stake.  The shot was pulled back to reveal the woman Sheila had last seen being cuffed in the house.  She was stretched out on the ground nude, her other limbs already attached to other stakes.  A closer shot revealed that the manacles had been worn for several days.  Her wrists showed sores and bruises, evidence of harsh treatment. A worn blanket was under the nude form, providing scant protection from the rough ground, actually used to minimize the accumulation of dirt. 

       A rough leather strap was cleaved across her mouth, tied tightly behind her head.  A gas burner was set up and lighted, the flame confined within a wide metal ring.  Notches in the ring provided a resting place for several iron rods with wooden handles.  The area was cold, as evidenced by the jackets the men were wearing and the bluish skin of the trembling woman staked out before them.  The gas flame offered little relief from the cold. One of the men removed his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves.  He knelt between the thighs of the woman and unrolled a small bundle.  The woman lifted her head to see what was happening.  Off camera a man said something unintelligible and the others appeared to laugh.  The woman looked back and forth frantically, not understanding what was happening.  The shot tightened on her right nipple.  It was still bound by the dental floss.  More days than Sheila originally thought must have passed. The nipple was puckered and crinkled.  A black swollen mushroom on an angry red globe.  The nipple was cracked in several places.  It was a horrifying sight.  The shot stayed close, showing only the tormented nub.

       A hand appeared in the frame, a finger flicked at the blackened nipple.  A gurgled scream could be heard from off the scene.  Another flick, another scream.  The hand disappeared, then reappeared holding a cauterizing scalpel.  Fingers from the other hand held the blackened piece of flesh while the scalpel removed it, cauterizing the flesh as it moved.  The breast moved as the nipple was removed.  The woman was stretched taut…but she still found enough mobility to move slightly.  The camera panned over to the other nipple and the procedure was repeated.  The lens was zoomed out to reveal the woman shaking; her head jerking from side to side.  The chains to her legs were tightened even further. 

       There was no urgency in the actions.  Various shots showed the men to be relaxed, enjoying their fun.  Cigarettes were smoked, conversations in whatever language the men spoke sounded light.

       The man with the scalpel moved down and knelt between her thighs.  The lens was zoomed in to frame the woman’s pussy. Forceps lifted the hood of her clit. The scalpel slit the hood from the top edge back to the Mons; followed the small bit of flesh to the left, severing the half of the hood from her body.  Gurgling screams continued from off screen.  The scalpel returned to the beginning point and dissected the remaining portion.  The flesh was an angry red scar with blackened edges, but little bleeding was evident.  The forceps were used to grasp the clit and stretch it as far as it would go.  The hot scalpel plunged into her flesh at the side of the stretched nub.  The body shook, even against the tension of the chains; then relaxed.  She had passed out.  The scalpel continued around, gouging out the clit, leaving a ragged, burned hole in its place.  The burned clit and the scalpel disappeared, the scene static.  The lens widened and a man waved a small white object under her nose.  The ammonia capsule awakened her and her screaming and shaking continued.  The man with the ammonia capsule delivered a swift slap to her face along with a loud order in the unintelligible language.  She stopped screaming, but not the shaking. Then a white hot iron rod was pushed into the opening, burning out any remaining remnant of her clit.  The lens zoomed in and panned over to a hand with the forceps holding the clit, still steaming from the extraction.  

       The camera refocused on her pussy.  Thin long clamps were placed on each labium.  The right one was stretched out and the scalpel returned to do its job very slowly.  The other labium followed; then the inner lips were added to the trophy pile.  A few points of bleeding oozed.  The glowing iron rod was used to touch up the leaking.  The scalpel wielder picked up a device that resembled a small kitchen whisk with a cover over it.  The cover was retracted to reveal not wires, but very slender blades.  The cover was pushed back over the blades and a tube of surgical lube was squeezed into her pussy and the covered blades were inserted.  With only the handle protruding, the cover was slipped back off of the blades and the handle given a quick spin.  Again the shaking; and screaming could be heard.  The handle was turned while the device was extracted, blood dripping from the blades.  The device disappeared and a surgical stapler appeared.  The opening to her cunt was stapled shut, a finger used to size the remaining orifice.  The once pretty cunt was now an ugly scar.  Any pleasure that it had ever given to its owner or companions was over, never to be repeated.

       Sheila shook with fear, the brutality beyond her comprehension.  Tears filled her eyes, snot dribbled down to collect on her upper lip.  Perspiration joined her tears running down the side of her face.

       Now one of the men knelt next to the woman's head, holding it firmly still.  A white hot rod was lifted from the gas flame and carried over to her face.  The camera shifted and zoomed in on the woman’s face; terror delivered an open, trembling mouth and wide, shifting eyes.  The rod was held close to her right eye.  The heat began to scorch her cheek and eyelid, tears flooded down her face.  The rod was held until it began to fade to a medium red.  By then the cornea was damaged and the retina ruined from the glare. The rod was briefly touched to the orbit and the eye was destroyed.  The rod was returned for reheating.  The damage was soon symmetrical. 

       The equipment was swiftly gathered up and put in the back of the truck.  Then the men stepped up and stood over the woman’s head.  A close shot showed three streams of piss pouring down on her face, ruined eyes bleeding and crying.  The men stepped away, returning to the truck.  The cameraman also got into the truck, holding the sight of the woman in the frame.  The stretched woman receded into the distance as the truck drove away.  Loud words and laughter in a language Sheila couldn’t identify echoed inside the truck.

       Sheila suddenly realized that she had barely been breathing.  She was stunned at the casual brutality she had just witnessed.  She began to take big gulps of air, tears filling her eyes and streaming down to the thin mattress beneath her.  Her sobs wracked her body; she kicked and pulled at the chains; as if her motion could offer some relief to the terror she felt.  She at last calmed down, still breathing quickly. Words in her earbuds startled her:

       “She did not die.  She was picked up later, after she had a chance to think about her life.  She was delivered to a brothel were she works today.  She is used for cheap anal and oral sex as well as cleaning up the other girls after they have serviced their johns.  She licks them clean, occasionally cleaning the johns as well.  They left her the tongue and vocal cords, though she doesn’t have anything to say.  You should learn from her experience.”  The voice was the Mistress’.  The projector started up, displaying a shot of Sheila sucking on a horse in the stables, a look of revulsion on her face.  Sheila watched, remembering.  She winced and shuddered as she watched herself puke violently when the horse had filled her mouth. 

       “Not acceptable” The Mistress’ words rang loudly in her ears.  A sudden shock was delivered to her clit and cervix as the points pounded into her.  Sheila watched through her tears as a pretty blonde crawled under the belly of another horse and delightedly began to suck on the huge cock.

       “Pay close attention” The Mistress said.

       More videos of woman and horses as well as with dogs were shown.  Tuesday and Helena were featured as well.  After two hours the recordings of the reluctant woman began again.  Again, Sheila was terrorized by the cruelty.  Another several hours of recordings ensued, advancing to a series of scat videos.  The women gleefully played and ate the brown mess, reveling in mouthfuls of piss. Another series of videos showed women playing with oversize toys.  Plugs and dildos of immense size, even larger than the Roscoes stuffed pussies and assholes to the point that Sheila expected bloody ruptures.  One showed a pretty blonde perched atop a four foot tall traffic cone.  A close shot of her ass showed that she had sunk down until six inches of width across her asshole supported her body weight.  She smiled and laughed as she enjoyed the impalement.

        Both times as Sheila watched the horrifying video she noticed more details.  The third time she followed it with the Lady Beth’s description ringing clearly in her mind.  She didn't realize that the temperature in the room was decreasing as the video started for the third time.

She also hadn't realized that during a previous checkup visit the weight on the hook lines had been doubled.  When the video began once again the pulleys were released and the increased weight stretched her nipples and pussy even more.  As the scalpel moved the various hooks delivered electric shocks to mimic the action on screen.

       When the video reached to point where the glowing iron rod was held in front of the woman's eyes, halogen spotlights that had been aimed into Sheila’s eyes came on, temporarily blinding her.  She screamed and convulsed, her head jerking back and forth, matching the scene projected above her.  She continued screaming as Tuesday entered the room, checking to be sure she was alright. 

       The lights were out but Sheila’s eyes still burned from the brightness, unable to determine that Tuesday was standing next to her.  Though she couldn't see, the audio continued to fill her ears, the video wasn't required...it was still playing in her memory.  When the sounds from within the retreating truck began, this time they were in accented English.

       “Do you think she learned anything?” One man said to accompanying laughter.

       “She was a slow learner before.  Perhaps this will prove motivating.” Another voice, more laughter.

       “If she has to come out again for another lesson, we let her crawl back. We'll put the feet in the truck.”  The first voice said and the soundtrack faded out.

       “Oh my God!  Oh my God! Oh my God!...” Sheila repeated over and over.  She was barely able to breath.  The effect was to give Sheila a small example of the experience. Her mind couldn’t fathom that happening to her…but she knew it was a too real possibility.  Perhaps a probability.  The Mistress wanted her to fail.  For her to go through THAT!  Tuesday held Sheila’s shoulder, shaking her gently, then harder.

       “Sheila!”  Tuesday said loudly.  “SHEILA!”  She almost shouted.  Sheila came around, recognizing Tuesday standing next to her. 

       “I…I…I have to do it.  I don’t…know…how.  But I will.  Help me!  Please!  Help me.  I’ll do the horses…the dogs.  I’ll…I’ll be a toilet.  Anything.  They can’t do that to me!”  Sheila was clearly panicking.  Tuesday was puzzled by this outburst since she hadn’t seen the video.  But she recognized that Sheila had experienced an epiphany of sorts.  She had literally seen the light.  Tuesday checked everything and determined that nothing unusual was happening, other than Sheila’s panic.  She smiled down at the stricken woman and left her alone, shaking on the bed.

Chapter 41

       Tuesday was reveling in her new role.  The freedom from the threat of diminishment allowed her to embrace her goal.  She was allowed to orgasm occasionally, always accompanied by increasing amounts of pain and humiliation.  Her toilet cleaning duties took twice as long, as did her daily workouts, because she was constantly being stopped for sex.  The other members of the house were delighted as well.  They enjoyed having her as a mandatory fucktoy, being careful to follow the instructions about how she was allowed to cum. 

       “This is exactly what you were placed on this earth to do, cum sucker.” Howie said to her with a growl as he pulled her face hard into his loins.  He and Donald (who was balls deep in her ass) had once more found her in the gym and cock spitted her on one of the mats.

       “I've never seen anyone who enjoyed cleaning a shitty cock as much as you do.” Donald added. “And the way you suck my piss is delightful. You're quite the toilet slut.”  Howie noticed that she smiled around his cock, her eyes dancing as she heard the “compliments”. Being humiliated thrilled her, especially when it entailed describing the actions she was performing.  As usual, a puddle formed under her on the mat as they fucked her.  She would get to lick it up after she had cleaned their cocks.

       Her exercises continued.  She was in excellent physical condition, stunningly beautiful as she went through her routines.  Half of her exercises included stretching and flexibility movements.  She also utilized the exercise pool; a small swimming pool with a powerful pump that forced a current through the water so that the swimmer could swim strongly without moving forward. 

       The Lady Beth also provided more personal exercises.  Tuesday could pick up large, heavy items by closing either her cunt or her anus around them, as well as a rod the size of a finger.  Her Kegel muscles where astounding, and she utilized them frequently to the delight of the male members of the house.  Even the Roscoes were impressed.  While they couldn't get the depth from her pussy (her cervix prevented that) she could give them a wonderful squeeze with it; her asshole, however accommodated them well, providing the three of them with glorious pleasure.  When the two huge men spitted her, her eyes would glaze over, drool spilling out from her lips as they stroked in and out of her.  Her throat wouldn't allow any more depth than her pussy, but her tongue and sucking mouth more than compensated for the depth her ass allowed.

       The Lady Beth brought Tuesday back to the chair to install another one of the Toymaker's devious little devices.  Tuesday had a prominent clit, one that had led her into much of her troubles in her adult life.  The Lady strapped Tuesday down and moved to her stool at the juncture of Tuesday's thighs.  The Lady picked up a clit vacuum cylinder and hand pump.  She gathered up some of the ever present goo from Tuesday's cunt with the opening of the cylinder and placed upon Tuesday's clit, drawing it into the cylinder; the flesh stretching and swelling from blood being pulled into the nub. Tuesday's lips formed a line as the Lady pulled the clit into the cylinder.  The Lady detached the cylinder, leaving it protruding from the cunt.  While the clit was stretched, the Lady busied herself with the new device.  Tuesday could see part of what was happening.  Another cylinder, a bit smaller than the one sucking her clit was being manipulated by the Lady.  Beth slid the cylinder inside the barrel of a modified syringe, the end being open to accept the device.  The Lady picked up another copy of the device loaded into the syringe.

       The Lady carried it around to show Tuesday what it was.  The small cylinder fell apart lengthwise, revealing the inside.  Two grooves circled the outside of each half, a small hole through the clear plastic in each groove.  The inside was filled with rows of thin flexible plastic needle points, all pointing towards an end with threads around the exterior.  Tuesday realized where it was going...and felt a squeeze on her heart.  The Lady just smiled and returned to her stool.

       “This will be an addition to your jewelry.”  The Lady said, indicating the curved bars buried under the clit.  The Lady released the vacuum sealing the tube on Tuesday's clit.  She placed the new device over the swollen nub and pushed it down, simultaneously withdrawing the plunger.  Tuesday watched as her clit was pulled into the new cylinder, the needles causing a burn in the sensitive flesh.  Tuesday gasped as the plunger passed a small opening in the body of the syringe and the vacuum was released.  The clit tried to retract but was captured by the thin needles as they buried themselves into the retreating flesh.  The Lady pulled the syringe body back slightly to reveal the first groove.  She produced a pair of forceps clamped around a small sharp pin.  She placed the point of the pin into the hole and pushed in, skewering the clit.  Tuesday sucked in a sharp breath as the Lady rolled a castration band off of the syringe and into the groove.  She backed the syringe up to the second groove, inserted another pin and band and removed the syringe completely. 

       Perspiration rolled off of Tuesday's forehead, into her eyes.  Her cunt burned, not unlike when her clit was originally pierced.  The Lady picked up another piece and displayed it for her captive.  It took Tuesday a moment to recognize its function.  The Lady grinned as the realization sunk into Tuesday's mind what it was.  The Lady held a small plastic cap, threaded on the inside.  Captured in the center of the cap, but loose to move, was a one inch long needle.  The outer end of the needle was flattened and had a small hole through the flat.  The Lady placed the end of the needle against the end of Tuesday's clit and smiled as she pushed it home, impaling the clit on the needle.  Tuesday gasped and bit her lip, afraid to utter a sound. The cap found the threads on the cylinder and The Lady screwed it on.  The end of the needle stuck out from the cap.  When the Lady touched the flattened end of the needle the sharp end moved within the clit.  Tuesday jumped and moaned, not able to resist the reaction.  Her clit felt like it was being branded.  Perspiration poured from Tuesday's head and body.  Drops pooled in her navel, dripped from her crinkled nipples.  She held her head hard to the headrest and closed her eyes, lights flashing against the inside of her eyelids.  When the Lady snapped a sparkler on the end of the needle, darkness claimed Tuesday's mind.

       

Chapter 42

       As Tuesday left Sheila's room the Lady Beth returned.  Sheila was still shaking, terrified.  The Lady began disconnecting the implements she had installed in the quaking girl.  She removed the weights; then cut the eyes on the hooks.  Once all the hooks were ready betadine was gently poured over the piercings left by the hooks as they were withdrawn.  She assisted Sheila up, the girl's eyes not completely registering what was happening.  The Lady helped her down to sit on the floor; she snapped her fingers and another girl brought a tray holding a bowl of chicken soup and a mug of strong tea.

       Sheila numbly began to eat, her fingers trembling so hard that she could barely get the spoon to her mouth.  Her hands had settled down by the time the soup was gone.  Sheila finished the tea as well and looked up at the Lady Beth.

       “This slave is sorry, mistress.”  Sheila began.  “This slave understands the penalty now. Perhaps you were right.  Perhaps diminishment would have been better.  But your slave will succeed.  She will.”  The last words were spoken with conviction...and a trace of fear.

       “Can you walk?”  The Lady asked, holding out her hand to assist Sheila in rising.  Shelia nodded.  Together they got the weak and still shaking girl to her feet.  They made a stop in the toilets before moving to The Office.  Sheila took a deep breath as the door opened.  She stepped through it and the door closed behind her.  She saw Charles behind his desk as usual...and then she saw Mistress Christine sitting in a large leather chair next to the desk; legs crossed.  The mistress was wearing a tight, dark blue leather dress; the tops of her breasts rising out of cups barely large enough to cover half of them.  The hem stopped just above her knees, a pair of matching pumps with 3 inch heels graced her feet.  Her hair and makeup were perfect.  Sheila's heart stopped as she fell to her knees, then to the floor; her arms stretched out above her, palms up, her face pressed into the carpet. 

       Charles figured that she was holding her breath, so he waited until he saw her back rise and said:

       “You may rise.”  Sheila rose up to her knees, being careful not to look up from the floor.        “You may approach your Mistress.”  He told her.  Instantly Sheila began to crawl over to Christine’s feet, stopping at the sole of the shoe protruding from an extended leg.

       “You may.”  The Mistress Christine said and immediately Sheila began to wash the sole of the shoe with her tongue.  When she had cleaned it sufficiently, the Mistress recrossed her legs to present the other shoe.  Sheila began to wash that sole without a word.

       “Enough.”  The Mistress said when she was satisfied.  “Stand.”  Sheila stood, shakily, keeping her gaze downward.  “I believe you have a better understanding of the choice you made?”  She asked the slave.  Sheila nodded.  “You may speak.”  The Mistress told her.

       “Yes Mistress.  This slave understands now.”  Sheila responded.  “This slave is...terrified...Mistress.  Failure is not an option to me.”  Her voice shook; she tried to keep emotion out of it but failed.

       “Failure is always an option.  But the consequences are rather severe if you do. The consequences are not delivered here...as you saw.  We will sell an asset and try to obtain the most return for our investment as possible.  It would behoove you to become as valuable as possible.  The asset you saw was not very valuable when she left here.  Her new owners felt that she could provide some cheap entertainment to those men as a reward.  I don't think you want that, do you?”  Sheila shook her head.

       “No, Mistress.  This slave wishes to become very valuable.”  She replied.

       “Sit.”  Charles said, motioning to the chair on the other side of the desk.  Sheila sat, again keeping her eyes down.

       “This is now an invitation.  Your Mistress is here, but this is now my meeting.  Relax.”  He told her.  Sheila tried to relax, but began to shake instead.  She brought her hands up to her eyes and sobbed quietly.  She settled down and slowly moved her hands down from her face.  A box of tissues had appeared on the corner of the desk closest to her. She gave Charles a faint smile and took a tissue.

       “Thank you” formed on her lips, though no sound came out.  She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

       “The Mistress is skeptical that you can succeed. I'm of the opinion that you may be more motivated now.” Charles said. Sheila didn't answer, just nodded slightly, glanced at her Mistress and returned her gaze to Charles.  “You have never formed any real associations since you arrived.  While we don't encourage close relationships here...primarily because all assets are subject to transfer at any time...you have permission to discuss what you have experienced with someone of your choosing.  I don't want you to fail because of not having any support.  Be aware, though, that anyone you talk with is still subject to removal.  Your Mistress has a long list of goals for you to achieve.  They will not be fun.  Had you been the asset we had expected you to be when you arrived here, this would not be necessary.”  He told her.

       “I suspect that some of our protocols were ignored when you were first interviewed.”  The Mistress began. Her tone was even; cordial. “I also suspect that some of your declarations were...well, if not fabricated then exaggerated.  I'm fully aware that your predicament was dire.  But that wasn't our problem.  We helped you with your problem...and you failed to live up to our expectations.  Did we fail to deliver on what you were told about the house?”  The Mistress asked calmly.  Sheila shook her head, tears filling her eyes.

       “No, Mistress.  I...this slave...didn't quite understand.  She had unrealistic expectations.  Everything here is exactly as was described.”  Sheila answered.

       “Just didn't believe it, did you?”  The Mistress asked, somewhat amused. Sheila shook her head, tight lipped.  Then she answered softly.

       “It didn't seem possible.  When I found out that it was, it was too late.  I'm sorry.  But I understand now.  Very, very well.”  She said.  She gave a flat, slight smile.  “I'm going to make it.  Will you allow me to worship your ass, Mistress?”

       “Eventually, you may.  But you'll worship all the other ones under this roof first.  And the stable roofs as well.”  Her Mistress replied.  Sheila gave a faint nod of understanding.  She turned to Charles.

       “May I suck your cock, please Master Charles?”  She requested.

       “A bit later, perhaps.  You weren't very good the last time.”  He answered with a slight smile.  She shook her head in agreement with his assessment.

       “The next time will be great.  Promise.”  She said.

       “I believe you mean that.  And it better.”  He said this rather matter of factly.  Sheila understood the significance of that.

       “Stand.”  Charles told her and Sheila stood. He appraised her bruises. “You haven't quite healed completely.  That will just make your slut duties that much more of a challenge.  Tough.   As of now you're a house slut.  You will show appreciation and gratitude for your chastisements.”

       “This slut will revel in her pain and punishments, master.  She will succeed, Master.  She will become very valuable.”  Sheila said.  And she meant it.

       

Chapter 42

       When Sheila stepped through the door the Lady Beth was waiting.

       “Let's get you fitted.”  She said.  This puzzled the girl, but she knew better than to say anything.  They proceeded down the hall and arrived in an area she had never been in.

       The Toymaker met them in a room adjacent to his shop.  A large vise stood on a metal framed pyramid.  She recognized it and it gave her a bad feeling.  The Toymaker produced a metal collar like the one she had seen fitted on the unfortunate girl        in the video.

       “New hardware.  A bit of a reminder for you.”  He said.  One end of the collar had rivets protruding, the other end matching holes.  She trembled as she saw them.  He slipped the collar around her neck and motioned for her to kneel at the vise.  Her legs shook as she knelt.  The collar was lighter than she expected; apparently it was made of an alloy rather than steel.  She knelt and he positioned her collar in the vise.  He closed the vise slowly, making sure that the holes lined up with the rivets.  He made an adjustment and the rivets slipped into their holes.  He produced a pneumatic riveting gun and told her:

       “Turn your head.”  When she did he put a pair of safety goggle over her eyes and earmuffs on her ears.  She felt and heard the impacts of the riveting gun as he made the collar a permanent part of her body.  The collar had four “D” rings hinged to it on equal quadrants.  The matching cuffs and anklets only had three each.  When he finished he allowed her to rise.

       “I think you should thank The Toymaker for his gifts and the work that went into them.”  The Lady Beth said.

       “Thank you Toymaker.”  Sheila told him. “Your gifts are precious to me.”  The Lady arched an eyebrow.

       “I think you can do much, much better than that.”  The Lady told her, glancing at the Toymakers crotch.  Sheila caught the meaning.

       “Toymaker, can this slut suck your cock, kind sir?  Will you fuck my ass and pussy?  Will you fuck my throat?  Your cum is a wonderful treat that this slut is anxious to savor.”  Sheila said, dropping to her knees.

       “I only have time for one right now.  A blow job...maybe a throat fuck...is all.  Perhaps you would like me to punish you later?”  He replied.

       “Please, sir.  That would be a pleasure. Thank you.” She answered, reaching to remove his cargo shorts.  He produced a chair for himself and another one for the Lady Beth.

       “Let's see if you can do better than the Lady did the other night.  But that won't be easy.  She gives great head.” He said, chuckling.  The Lady smirked as she heard him. 

       “Be the last from me for a long time, too.”  The Lady told him and grinned at him.  “This                                                                                                                                                       little cunt can do that job from now on.  Or your girlfriend.” The Toymaker narrowed his eyes at that remark.

       “Hmmpf.”  Was all he said.

       Sheila pulled his shorts to the floor along with his boxers.  She immediately put her mouth on his cock and started sucking vigorously.  She worked her mouth all the way down to the root of his shaft, gagging when it entered her throat.  She swallowed and kept at it, sucking and licking while fucking her own throat with the cock.  Tears streamed down her face but she didn't slow down. She continued, a taste of bile from her gag reflex occasionally rising.  She swallowed it without slowing.

       “I think that perhaps she's taking all this seriously.”  The Toymaker said to the Lady Beth.  “This is much better than any she's given me before.”

       “I'll see how much she is improved at eating pussy and ass in a little while.”  The Lady Beth replied.  Sheila looked up at her through tear filled eyes, but maintained her pace.  She pulled her mouth off of the hard cock and gently took his scrotum into her mouth.  She licked each orb within the sack, sucking her saliva off as she withdrew, to return to impaling her face with his cock.  It took a while; The Toymaker was enjoying it and he had substantial staying power.  But he knew he had other things to do, so he finally relaxed, spilling his cum down her swallowing throat as she pressed her nose tightly into his belly. 

       He pulled her off of him by her hair, her lips tight around his shaft, sucking her saliva dry as she withdrew.

       “Much improved.  That was a decent job.  Not as good as the Lady's...but I guess it will pass.”  He told her and the Lady.  As Sheila stood the Lady snapped a quirt onto the ring under her chin.

       “Let's go.  You've got a few more to give before we go back to my quarters.  And I'm feeling full so you'll have to hurry.”  The Lady said.  Sheila told The Toymaker:

       “Thank you, sir, for your delicious gift.  You are most generous.”  The two women hurried off.

Chapter 43

       The Lady Beth and Sheila found Tuesday resting, strapped into the chair where the Lady had left her.  The Lady directed Sheila to kneel under Tuesday as she elevated the captive's legs higher and pulled them back closer to her chest. Sheila's eyes widened at the device attached to Tuesday's clit.

       “Suck her ass.  I want you to make her come.” The Lady told Sheila.  Sheila dutifully began to worship the lovely woman's asshole.  While Sheila licked and sucked the Lady held a large bulbous vibrator set to medium to the flesh just above her clit.  The vibrations carried into the cylinder, causing it to bob slightly.  Tuesday squirmed and panted; she held her lower lip between her teeth.  The sensations were incredibly intense; her pussy poured its lubricant over Sheila's face.  The pain was too great for her to overcome and translate it into pleasure.  She gasped out to the Lady:

       “Mistress...this slut can't get past the pain...she can't cum for you.  It hurts too much.”  Tuesday said.

       “Stop.” The Lady told Sheila; the girl backed away slightly.  The Lady removed the cap from the cylinder, withdrawing the needle impaling the woman's clit.  Sheila gasped as she saw what had been buried inside the tender nub.  The Lady produced a scalpel and slit the bands holding the device together and pulled the two halves apart.  She picked up the syringe body again and put the cylinder back together and slipped into the barrel.  Once more she placed it onto Tuesday's clit and pulled the plunger back, drawing Tuesday's clit into the tight, stinging tube.  She put fresh bands into the grooves, this time without skewering the clit sideways with the pins.  Another cap, sans needle, was threaded onto the cylinder.

       “Better?'  She asked Tuesday.  Tuesday nodded her head.

       “Yes. Thank you Mistress.”  Tuesday replied.

       “Again.  This time like you mean it.”  The Lady directed Sheila back to sucking the drenched pucker under Tuesday's cunt.  The flow had covered the curve of her ass cheeks, dripping onto the floor. Sheila washed the fluid with her tongue and returned to worshiping Tuesday's asshole.  She pressed her face hard against the crack, wanting desperately to demonstrate her enthusiasm.  Again the vibrator was pressed to the top of Tuesday's cunt.

       “Let's try this again.”  The Lady said, smiling at Tuesday.  Tuesday nodded, closing her eyes while enjoying the sensations.  This was an unusual treat; to be pleasured and allowed to orgasm without other distractions.  The Lady did pinch a firm puckered nipple between two sharp fingernails and twisted; but this was just added stimulation.  She moved the vibrator down slightly until the head just touched the cylinder holding Tuesday's swollen clit.  The transfer of the vibrations resulted in Tuesday bucking against her restraints, twisting and straining.  She gasped as she came, flooding Sheila with her juices, soaking the girls face and hair.  Sheila grinned up at the Lady as the pussy spurted into her face.  She kept sucking; the Lady held the vibrator firmly against Tuesday's Mons.  Tuesday began to thrash around; the climaxes building into a crescendo she couldn't stand.  Her clit and pussy were super-sensitized by the stimulation, the pleasure turning into agony.  The Lady intended for this to happen...and it would happen many more times in the days to come.  A loud howling moan came from Tuesday's mouth as her head thrashed back and forth.  Never did she ask for it to stop.  She knew better than to do that.  She endured the torment as best as she could; but couldn't be still or quiet.

       The Lady finally removed the vibrator and motioned for Sheila to back away.  Tuesday was once more in a land separate from consciousness. 

Chapter 44

       Tuesday regained her awareness once the vibrator was removed.  She still felt drained, but it was a satisfied tired.  The Lady unfastened the restraints and moved the leg supports so Tuesday could get up; she motioned for Sheila to stand as well.  Sheila's wrists were locked together behind her back; Tuesday noticed the new restraints and wondered about their meaning.

       The three of them went to the community room.  All but the Mistress, Charles and the video tech on duty were there – Toymaker included. She directed the two women to stand in the center.

       “Tuesday is ordered to cum.  But make sure she is in pain when she does. Do not damage her or her beauty.  I'm sure that all of you can figure out a way to accommodate the conditions.  Sheila may not come.  Make sure she is thoroughly...and I mean THOROUGHLY fucked.”  The Lady Beth paused and looked around the room at each of them. “She is now a house slut and will be until further notice.  She should be chastised for all shortcomings....or just because you want to.  Her face is to be spared.  The rules against serious bodily injury still stand, but all else is a fair target.

       Mr. Tanner grinned and waved at the Lady Beth;

       “So everything from the neck down is okay, just no stitches or broken bones?  Burns?”  He asked.

       “Only less than 3rd degree.  No open, oozing flesh.  She's being punished, not tortured, Torquemada.”  The Lady replied sarcastically.  Tanner grinned at Sheila; she paled and felt her stomach flop.

       “Hey, Tanner, save us something to play with, will you?”  Master John quipped, watching Sheila shudder as he said it.  She knew that her life had suddenly changed forever.

         “Bon appétit, everyone.”  The Lady said.  She turned on her heels and left the two women to the ravenous crowd.

       

Chapter 45

       Master Joe reached out a huge hand and crooked a finger at Sheila.  With eyes downcast, she moved over to him; the crowd parted wordlessly.  She knelt at his feet, trembling.

       “Master, please abuse this slave.  How would you like her to entertain you?”  Sheila announced; her voice loud, but shaking.  Joe stepped behind her and produced a short stainless steel cable from one of the pockets of his cargo shorts.  One end was affixed to a ball slightly larger than the ring on the back of Sheila's collar.  The other terminated in a small loop.        He lifted one hand behind her back and slipped the loop through the ring on her cuff, and then did the same with the other cuff.  A padlock from the same pocket snapped through the loop.  Her hands were locked in close to a reverse prayer position.  He looked over to the Toymaker.

       “Got the new piece?”  He asked.  The Toymaker nodded.

       “Yep.  Right here.”  The Toymaker answered and stepped forward with another piece of metal.  The device was a cup shaped thing with a bar rising from the lip of the cup.  Two loops in the shape of a figure 8 were attached to the bar; open cuffs that connected to the bar.  Joe took the cup and placed it on Sheila's left elbow and drew the elbows together.  The cuffs went around the forearms and locked together; finishing the reverse prayer position.  The action caused Sheila's shoulders to arch back, extending her breasts.  It only took a minute for her shoulders to start burning.  How long would she be locked like this?  She wondered.

       As if reading her mind Master John announced.

       “Get used to it, slut.  This is going to be your new way of life.  You don't need arms or hands for what you're going to be doing.  If Helena can suck off horses without them, you can too.”  Sheila paled, knowing that he was right...and that the Mistress had figured out a way to achieve a similar condition without the surgery.

       Master John stepped over with another one of the Toymaker's designs.  It was a stainless steel belt with two flat straps extending from it.  Each strap held two open cuffs, one larger than the other.  She had a good idea what would happen next; She was correct.

       John put the belt around her waist, the straps ran down her thighs. The larger cuff locking around her thigh; her ankles were pulled up and locked into the cuffs, securing her ankles to her thighs.

       “The Lady told you that you were the lowest worm in the compost pile.  Now you get to understand the fact of that condition.”  John told her.  As he said this the Lady Beth appeared, pushing a cart similar to the one that Helena used.  The height of the cart left all of Sheila's holes at a perfect height for abuse.  John reached down and grasped the bound girl's ankles in one massive hand and put his under hand under her elbows.  He lifted her like she was a sack of potatoes, placing her on the cart.

       “This is for their use...not yours.”  The Lady told her.  “When they aren't fucking you or abusing you in some fashion, you'll squirm to wherever you need to go.  And you better learn to squirm fast.  Maybe you can balance on your knees and walk that way.  We'll have fun watching.”

       Mr Tanner spoke up, “I like her on her knees better.”  Everyone chuckled.

       “Hell, you'd have everyone on their knees if you could!”  Master Joe remarked, which earned a laugh.

       “Damn right.  Just where they deserve.”  Tanner retorted.

       “Toymaker...the finishing touch, please.”  The Lady Beth requested.  The Toymaker stepped up to the girl on the cart and turned her over so that she was on her arms and feet.  The pressure forced her shoulders back even more.  The Toymaker pulled a pair of hard rubber blocks from his pocket and produced a metal head harness.  He pressed on Sheila's chin; she opened her mouth.  The blocks were fitted between her molars; he then fitted the harness.  It was similar to the medieval brank; an open cap with metal straps running down the cheeks to a chin cup.  He started by placing the cup under chin and pressing up.  He was able to tip the cap portion over her forehead and snug it down over her scalp. Another strap ran down the back of her head; at the bottom was a flexible woven metal collar.  This went around her neck and locked; a short rod connected to the chin cup, making sure that everything was secure.  All the locks were of the Toymaker's design, he handed the key to the Lady.

       Tears were flowing from Sheila's eyes and pooling on the material under her head.

       “There.  Now you're complete.  You're probably wondering how you're going to eat with  your mouth locked open.”  The Lady Beth asked.  Sheila nodded, her eyes closed.  “I'm happy to tell you that we have already anticipated that.  The cook has formulated smoothies that you can earn by sucking them from your practice cock.  But the Mistress has told me to inform you that most of your meals won't come from the kitchen.”  She paused for the effect.  “Most of your meals will be soft...very flavorful...and predigested.”  Sheila gave a short gasp that turned into a sob.  “That's how you will become a more valuable asset.  Have you heard of 'The Human Centipede'?”  Sheila shook her head negatively.  “It's a movie...a horror movie.  You're going to play the second position in a temporary version of that movie...a supporting role.  Helena is already studying her part for the lead in the play.  She's just eating it up!”  The Lady Beth laughed.  Tuesday gave a gasp; she did know the premise for the movie and had seen parts of it.  She had been on her knees, her mouth locked onto the cock of one of her mentor's “friends”.  Her bondage at the time was similar to Sheila's, she had been sucking the cock for two hours with unknown hours to remain.  The owner of that cock had watched the movie, Tuesday got the occasional glimpse and listened to dialog; along with comments from her host.  He made sure that she got to see pertinent portions of the flick; even picking up his cell phone and proposing to her mentor that she would be perfect for a real life version of the movie, though in a forced temporary situation.   Exactly like Sheila would find herself in.  Tuesday had escaped that fate...Sheila's fate was sealed.

       The Lady Beth stepped away from the cart.  “Help your selves.”  She said.  Immediately Tanner stepped up and turned her sideways across the cart, pulling her head off the side.  His cock found the wet hole and plunged in.  The width of the cart made it convenient for someone else to find her asshole.  Her pussy wasn't the slightest bit wet as Tuesday's might have been; and was.  Howard stepped up with a handful of lube, already applying it to his shaft.  He smeared the rest on the pucker perched between the folded legs, working it in with two, then three, fingers.  He wiped them on her abdomen and held her steady against Tanner's thrusting efforts to push her off of the cart.  He pressed the head of his cock against the pucker and let Tanner drive the asshole onto his cock.

       “Thank you, Mr. Tanner.  You are most kind to provide assistance.”  Howie said.  Tanner grinned.

       “Don't mention it.  Always happy to help.  We can switch in a minute, if you  wish.” He said.  Howie looked down.

       “I'll probably need a bit of hygiene improvement in a moment...so yes, if you don't mind.”  Howie answered.

       “She a bit shitty today?”  Tanner asked.

       “Yes...there is a bit of mess.”  Howie replied.

       “Hmmf.  Just like her attitude.  Well, just like her attitude used to be.  But we're fixing that, aren't we sweet cheeks?”  He asked down at the face he was impaling. A grunt that could have been affirmative along with a bouncing of her chin seemed to be her response.  “Good slut.  We'll turn you into a a grade A cocksucking, ass munching slut in no time. Of course, it might not SEEM like no time.  But you'll be amazed how time will fly while we're having fun.”  He laughed at the girl's plight.  Her tears dripped to the floor.

Chapter 46.

       Priscilla moved over to Tuesday and looked at the tube attached to her clit.  She knelt down to get a better view. Her finger lifted it while she examined the device.  As her fingers surrounded it, the Toymaker spoke up:

       “The inside of the tube is covered in sharp bristles...all pointing out.  If you pull on it, it will likely damage her clitoris.  I suspect that Mistress Christine would make you enjoy the same effect.  Or just give her yours.”  He said calmly.  Priscilla carefully lowered the tube.

       “I've made one for everybody...so you all will be able to enjoy the experience.”  He looked into Tuesday's eyes.

       “You're wearing the simple cap.  Did she put all of the extras on first?”  He asked.  Tuesday nodded.

       “Yes sir.  It was too much.”  She answered.

       “Tell the others what the extras are.”  He ordered.  She looked around at the others and then looked down at the tube.

       “There are two needles that go through it...side to side.  They were under the rubber bands that keep it together.  And there is a different cap...”  Her voice trailed off and she swallowed.  “It has a needle in it too...A long one that sticks into the clit....It goes deep.”  She swallowed again.  “I couldn't cum with those sticking in me...so she took them out.  She says that eventually I'll be able to cum with them.”

       “I believe the intent is for you not be able to cum WITHOUT it.”  The Toymaker said, smilling.

       Dawn knelt down and look at Tuesday's entrapped clit.  She turned and look up at the Toymaker.

       “When can we get ours?”  She asked, sounding anxious.

       “Never I hope.”  Donald retorted.  They all laughed.

       “That's up to the Mistress.  Would you like yours now?”  The Toymaker asked.  A smile spread across her face and she nodded.

       “Please, Toymaker.”  She replied.  Donnie shook his head, Howie looked grim, Rebecca and Priscilla looked shocked, their eyes wide, their heads slowly moving back and forth.  The Toymaker smiled at the blonde.

       “I'll check on it for you.”  He said and her smile turned into a grin.  Priscilla and Rebecca had turned pale.

       Priscilla took Tuesday's elbow and led her to the table, helping her to climb up on it, turning face up.  Priscilla pulled over until Tuesday's head hung off the side; then stepped up to her face, spreading her legs wide and putting her pussy against Tuesday's mouth.  Tuesday dutifully began to lap at the slit, teasing the labia, licking the fluid as it ran from the opening.  After a few minutes of slurping Priscilla leaned forward for Tuesday's tongue to reach her clit.  Tuesday's lips found the swollen bud and began to suck and lick.

       Meantime Rebecca had been spreading the ever flowing fluid that was pouring out of Tuesday's cunt. Rebecca had wiped her hand all over the pussy in front of her, getting the slippery stuff over every single pore. When she spread her fingers the viscous goo bridged between them.  She scooped up another palm full and made sure that her hand was soaked.  Then she folded her fingers into a funnel shape and began to slide them inside the messy cunt.  It didn't take long for all five fingers to disappear...soon Tuesday's pussy appeared to have eaten the hand up to the wrist.  Rebecca pulled her hand out far enough to bring out another dollop of juice, which Rebecca caught with her other hand.  This she spread around the puckered asshole and her other fingers.  Soon both hands were gone, wrists extending out of Tuesday's lower orifices.  She plunged her hands in and out, sometimes together, sometimes in opposing strokes.  The depth of the hand within her asshole became astounding.  Tuesday's cervix limited the depth of that hand.  Tuesday felt a finger tip and fingernail rubbing around the mound of her cervix, the finger determined to fathom the further depth.  Tuesday gasped at the pain as Rebecca pushed hard, the finger tip gaining entrance.

       Tuesday continued to suck and pleasure the pussy at her mouth.  She licked and swallowed, sucking where the woman directed her mouth.  She felt the finger make progress into the mouth of her womb as the thumb found her g-spot.  Tuesday's passion, always high, began to boil.  The pain of the stretching of her holes, the intrusion into her cervix and the pressure against her g-spot  sent her over the edge.  She tensed and shuddered, her hips rising to meet the hands inside her.  She gasped into the pussy on her face, the juices from the woman above her coating her face, clouding her eyes. She snorted the juice up her nose in an effort to clear her sinuses and breath.  And the stimulation never slowed down.  The fists continued stroking inside her; the thumb and fingertip building her towards another climax.  Again her pussy and asshole spasmed, again she came, swallowing the increased of flow into her mouth.  The women wouldn't let up.  They had been ordered to make her cum and to be painful about.  They expected the pain would really start to build after the third or forth orgasm, and they were right. Tuesday was wearing down...Rebecca and Priscilla were just getting started.  Rebecca wanted some of what Priscilla was getting; Priscilla was happy to switch.

       Priscilla backed off, she had enjoyed two or three orgasms..they had pretty much run together.  Rebecca removed her hand from Tuesday's ass and presented it for cleaning.  Tuesday obediently licked it clean, then Rebecca's other hand as well.  Rebecca presented her pussy for slurping while Priscilla started lubing her hands.  Tuesday welcomed the relief...but realized that it would be short lived.  She was correct...her orgasms continued a few minutes later.  The afternoon stretched toward a long night.