Sheila fretted on her Master’s bed. She lay face down into the pillow, her wrists cuffed to her ankles. Her bared bottom was high in the air making her vulnerability and shame complete.

She had been in this position many times before awaiting her Master’s pleasure. But tonight was very different as she had angered her Master like never before. She had gone too far tonight and His face had been purple with rage. One look from Him had her hurrying home from the party in some distress.

The night had began well enough with Master taking her along to meet His many friends, the majority being Masters like Himself accompanied by their slaves. It was Sheila’s first party and she was determined to make Him proud of her and also to have a good time. She dressed very carefully in her black leather mini skirt and matching halter-top. She wore thigh high leather boots and wore her favourite gold Celtic jewelry, which Master had given to her when He had collared her and made her His slave. Her full lips she coloured fuchsia pink to match her nails. There was one thing missing, but Master came in and adorned her neck with His collar. She was complete. He smiled at her and she her eyes shone, as she knew He was pleased with her appearance.

The taxi whisked them away to the grand old Country House and she walked in behind Him, her head bowed. She was introduced to His friends and then after the buffet the men retired to play snooker and smoke cigars and the slaves chatted excitedly amongst themselves, about their favourite punishments and the like. Sheila was having a great time and they encouraged her to drink wine with them and not wanting to appear different she drank many glasses. This was the point when things started to go badly wrong. She was unused to drinking alcohol and it rapidly loosened her tongue and her more usual quiet reserve. She was relishing being with other slaves and had never giggled so much in her life.

By the time the Masters rejoined them Sheila was well and truly drunk. She was unaware that she was talking louder than anyone else was and was also staggering to some extent. She saw a flicker of annoyance in her Master’s eyes but took no notice. Why couldn’t He let her enjoy herself for once? She started to goad him, mocking him, saying out aloud that He was too stuffy to enjoy himself and spoiled all her fun. This behaviour at a formal party was unforgivable in any circumstance, but for a slave to address her Master in such a manner was treacherous.

Unfortunately worse was to come. Sheila moved forward toward her Master ‘insisting’ He get her another drink. As she stepped towards him proffering her empty glass she lost her balance and ended up face down on the floor at His feet. Her skirt was up around her waist and made no secret of the fact that she wasn’t wearing any knickers.

She suddenly felt disorientated and proceeded to be sick on her Master’s shoes. Her humiliation was complete, not to mention that of her Master. As she struggled vainly to get back up her white rounded bottom was thrust upward for all to see. Her legs were spread and her shaven pussy lips, moist and pouting. Everyone had a perfect view of the puckering of her tight asshole and the bright pink inner lips leading to her gaping cunt, as she swayed on all fours.

She was vaguely aware of the other slaves tittering, but also of Masters tutting and saying how they were glad she didn’t belong to them. One even commented that her Master had been too lenient with her and had no idea how to train slaves properly.

When she heard this she started to sob uncontrollably, now fully aware of the shame she had brought upon her Master. He pulled her up by the hair and nearly dragged her out of the room and into an awaiting taxi. Her pleas of sorry fell on deaf ears. He didn’t even look at her, never mind speak to her, all the way home.

She was then thrown unceremoniously down onto His bed and bound in the way she now found herself. Her head was still spinning and she felt nauseous. She couldn’t tell how long she had been there but it felt like forever. Her body ached all over from the continued forced position she found herself in. She remembered her Master saying something about needing to consider her punishment carefully after He had calmed down and then leaving her in the darkened room.

By the time He returned she was distraught, imagining what painful punishments lay in store for her, but mostly her distress was due to the hurt she knew she had caused Him. She blamed the drink, the other girls, but knew in her heart it was all her own doing and she had no excuse worth listening to.

Masters Taking. Torture tits and pussy DVD. Duration: 01:23:03. Click to preview scenes >

She looked into His eyes, still black with anger, but also sadness. Her own large desolate eyes pleaded silently for leniency and forgiveness, none of which she found. Finally she spoke, ‘Are you going to beat me severely Master? I know I deserve it and am so sorry. Please discipline me and make me Your good slave again.’

He looked down at her pitiful appearance; her eyes were streaming with tears forcing her mascara to run down her cheeks and her lipstick smudged over her mouth. His eye cast over all the implements of punishment that covered the walls of His bedchamber. But instead of choosing one He walked towards her and removed His collar from her neck. ‘You are not fit to wear this’, He said, looking coldly into her eyes. He then turned and walked out the room.

He heard her anguished wailing into His pillow long into the night, until exhaustion finally overcame her and she fell into a fitful sleep. She truly thought He had abandoned her and the overwhelming sinking feeling she felt, was like nothing she had experienced before.

Unbeknown to her however, her Master had already decided to give his foolish slave another chance, but knew this was the cruelest punishment He could inflict on her – that of rejection. She needed to be taught a hard lesson today.

He smiled to himself as He imagined how grateful she would be in the days and weeks ahead when she realised He was giving her the opportunity to redeem herself. She would greet him every morning on her knees, and without being asked suck greedily on His cock in an attempt to make amends. He would make her suck until He came, sometimes making Her swallow every drop while He lashed those delicious sensitive buttocks of hers, or other times cover her face and breasts with His cum.

He wouldn’t weaken and tell her that He had completely forgiven her. He loved her to distraction and couldn’t imagine a body He would rather punish.

Sheila apart from being the most obedient slave a Master could ever wish for has never been drunk again from that day to this…

BDSM Community with 1000’s members. Click here to join and find your BDSM partner. It’s absolutely free! No any money needed! Welcome!

You can read the article about wooden horse/pony here

The place looks to be over a century old, shrouded in a cluster of large oak trees. Threatening dark clouds and thunder signal that another rainstorm is going to hit, so you quickly make your way up the long gravel road to the front porch. A knock on the door reveals that there is no one home. The windows are boarded up; the roof and sides of the house are riddled with neglect.

Deserted.

Rain begins to fall. You circle around to the back and find the entrance to a cellar. A rush of warm air strikes your face as you pull the storm doors open and quickly descend the stairs. Squinting in the darkness, you fumble with your pockets for the matches. You almost jump as a large rat scurries across the floor and disappears into another room. Outside, the heavy rain is pounding the earth, but you feel little comfort in your refuge.

Using one match, you slowly venture forth to the opposite end of the room to try the light switch. Nothing. There is a small white candle sitting on a dusty shelf, so you light it. The cellar looks to be completely empty. You wander through, what seems like an endless maze of rooms, when something catches your eye. Carved into the very foundation is a doorway that doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the house. You approach it, holding the candle in front of you, and peer into the small passage. There is a steep, narrow stairway that spirals downward and out of sight. The ancient stone masonry gives you the impression that this was here long before the house was even built. Throwing caution to the wind, you decide to investigate and slowly descend the stairs.

A powerful scent of wet stone and rotting wood lingers in the air. The flickering candle is just bright enough to illuminate the first and last few steps around you, before blackness creeps in and consumes everything.

Suddenly, a noise makes you stop dead in your tracks.

At first, you only hear your own breathing and the soft, distant sounds of dripping water. But then there’s something else — the faint, muffled cries of a human being, looming up the winding stairwell. Then it stops. Could someone be calling for help? You quicken your pace until you reach the bottom step. Through the dim candlelight, you see what appears to be a long corridor. Claw like pillars reach up to grasp the hulk of the low ceiling that weighs down upon you. The end of the passageway takes a sharp turn. What lies beyond it is a mystery. You’re feeling very uneasy now, uncertain as to who or what you’ll find if you continue on. You listen again for the muffled sounds, but there is nothing. Slowly, you make your way through the corridor. When you approach the corner, you stop for a moment, take a breath, and make the turn.

Directly ahead is a narrow doorway. Holding the candle outward, you step through and find yourself standing in a small empty chamber. The light does not fill this place. There are corners that remain in shadows, and an odd, almost heavy mist that somehow seems to interfere with your vision. Then you hear the noise again, just off to your left, and very close. One sweep of the candle in that direction reveals a sight that makes your heart jump.

In the very center of the room, there is a young woman standing alone in dark with her back to you. She appears to be in her early to mid-twenties, with sandy blonde hair flowing about her shoulders — and she isn’t wearing a stitch of clothing! What’s more, the girl has been forced into a spread-eagle stance, with her arms hanging wide above her head and apparently chained to the ceiling, her nude body stretched tight by the bonds on her ankles. For the moment, you remain frozen in the doorway, stunned by your own disbelief. The candlelight immediately announces your presence though, and she casts a wide-eyed glance over one shoulder in your direction. Her lips are drawn wide around a red, rubber ball that has been secured to the back of her head with leather straps. She tries desperately to call out to you, but the only sounds she can manage through the strange-looking gag are muffled, inaudible moans.

Inquisition World – Medieval torture of witches!

Of course, your first reaction should be to help the poor woman. After all, you were raised to believe that real men were chivalrous by nature, and it was clearly expected that if you saw another man hurting a woman, you would intercede and rescue her from the villain. On the other hand, you didn’t expect to stumble into this tempting scenario, and that presents a whole new set of issues, such as whether or not she’s really alone, and if she is, for how long. Not to mention the obvious question of what the hell was she doing down here in the first place! Going against your better nature, you decide to ignore her exasperated pleas for now and step forward for a better look.

Just as you had assumed earlier, she’s most likely in her mid-twenties with the sleek, well-toned figure of an athlete, yet still very feminine-looking. Her young breasts stand out provocatively from her ribs like two round melons. Her skin is lightly tanned all over, leaving just the slightest hint of a bikini line. Overall, this girl is definitely worth the look.

She watches helplessly, unable to offer even a token resistance, as you lower the candle down to the V of her body to bring it into the light. Without a doubt, her pussy is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen! She sports a recent shave that leaves no trace of hair between her thighs, only smooth flesh surrounding those luscious, pink folds. Just the sight of it, alone, is enough to make your swelling organ rear up to full readiness.

But of even more interest at the moment, is in the way she’s been restrained. Her wrists are bound with leather cuffs, and each connecting chain runs through a pulley in the ceiling, then downward to a large hand crank. Her ankles are also cuffed and fastened to a pair of metal rings spaced about 4 feet apart and bolted to the floor. The entire setup has been carefully designed to keep her limbs pulled outward in the shape of an X, leaving the woman no choice but to remain standing, trapped and helpless, with every naked curve displayed provocatively from all angles. Then, as if to add even further insult to her suffering, fastened to the base of each nipple is a type of spring-loaded clamp, with a delicate chain about 10 inches in length linking them together. Another chain is clipped to the center of it and secured to the wall she is facing. The clamps look menacing enough by themselves, like cold-steel replicas of clothespins with insidious-looking jaws, and the tension of both chains keeps her upper body still, so that even the slightest movement would cause the links to tighten, and the metal teeth to bite down even deeper into her swollen nubs.

The room itself resembles a makeshift dungeon. An array of whips, crops and an arsenal of other devices, some completely foreign to you, hang neatly on one wall. You’ve leafed through plenty of adult publications in your day to know that this young beauty is obviously a submissive or ‘slave‘, and in the process of being disciplined. Her ice-blue eyes seem glassy and tired, yet there’s also a look of intensity and defiance in them that draws you in like a moth to the flame. Whoever left her down here must surely be nearby, but where? You step back for a moment to ponder the situation. By now, any initial concerns you may have had for the woman are completely forgotten, but you also know you’re running the risk of getting caught if you remain here much longer.

Then something in the far corner of the room catches your eye, draws you in. Sitting ominously in the shadows is a wooden frame that looks very much like a carpenter’s sawhorse, only this one has the 2 x 6 crosspiece mounted upright at a 90 degree angle, leaving one side of the board jutting upward. That top edge has been sharpened to a rough point from end to end. You study the board closely, then gaze at the beautiful slave girl standing only a few feet away with her long legs spread wide apart. The height looks perfect.

Yes, now this has possibilities worth investigating!

The woman strains to look around, as you drag the horse out and position it behind her with one end pointed toward the crack of her buttocks. Then you slowly push it forward, it’s legs screeching and jerking ponderously across the floor. She hears the approaching noise, and instinctively raises herself on her toes, not realizing the predicament she has just placed herself in until it’s too late. Quickly, you slide the horse underneath her and center the board between her thighs so that she straddles it. The board’s sharp edge sits just low enough to avoid any painful contact with her most sensitive flesh, that is, as long as she remains on her toes!

Click here to see full gallery with girl tortured by wooden horse

Click here to read more about wooden horse or pony torture

The woman looks at you, wide-eyed with panic. A soft whimper escapes her lips. The chains allow some movement, but not nearly enough to break her stance and dismount. There is little she can do now but wait helplessly while her legs begin to tire.

You take a step backward for a moment to admire your handiwork. The feeling is almost intoxicating, the lust, the sense of power you have over this gorgeous creature. In the dating world, you would never have gotten anywhere with a woman like this. Your thoughts reach back in memory to all the women that have spurned you over the years, laughed at you when your back was turned. You convince yourself that this one is no different, only now, the tables have turned. You can do whatever you want with her, take anything you want. Who could blame you for using this opportunity to finally make things right?

You approach her again, circling her. You slip your finger under the leather straps around her wrists to test them for unwanted slack. Quite unnecessary from what you can see, but a lovely effect nonetheless. Taking hold of her wrists, you slide your hands downward into the soft, moist hollows of her armpits to check her grooming. She utters a cry of protest and squirms frantically against your unwelcomed advances, only to suffer a painful reminder that her nipples are still tightly clamped and chained to the opposite wall. This beauty isn’t going anywhere, in spite her struggles. You can feel her heart beating faster as you shift your attentions to her breasts, tracing lazy circles around the outer curves before taking them into your hands. She draws a sharp breath when a finger strays against one of the clamps.

Remarkably, she manages to stay on her toes as you run your hands up and down her lovely body. Reaching behind to grasp the cheeks of her smooth ass, you give them a squeeze, then you let your fingers travel down her legs and back up to her hips, and finally, inward to the tender parts she is working so hard to protect. By now, the muscles in her thighs and calves are clearly visible from the strain she is just beginning to feel. It’s only a matter of time before they give out altogether. She tries to adjust her feet just a little, but almost loses her balance and shrieks when the clamps give her nipples another sharp tug. You step back and pull up a chair, content for now to admire her impeccable form, and the way it sways ever so slightly as she strives to remain motionless.

After several long, excruciating minutes, the woman has no choice, but to give in to the fatigue that she has been fighting off for so long. She must now use what little strength she has left to lower herself as gently as possible onto the board. In spite of her efforts, she can feel the sharp, jagged surface pressing hard against her sex. She closes her eyes tight and whimpers softly behind the gag. Beads of sweat begin to trickle down her body. After a brief and painful rest, she regains enough strength to point her toes again and relieve the pressure between her thighs, but only for a few minutes before she must straddle the board again. It takes much longer for her to summon enough strength to rise a third time, thus repeating the excruciating cycle of pain, fatigue, and then more pain. You are impressed with her endurance and self-control. In fact, no woman has stirred your darkest emotions as much as this one has during these desperate moments, and only you alone, have the power to grant her any relief from the incessant torture that she is being forced to submit herself to.

Masters Taking. Torture tits and pussy DVD. Duration: 01:23:03. Click to preview scenes >

Time passes, long and agonizing minutes of torment. Her legs are quivering now from over-exertion. As she tires, more time is spent with her weight on that most sensitive region, eliciting a series of gasps and whimpers from her gagged mouth. The long struggle finally ends when her legs give away completely, and she has to lower herself, full-force onto the hideously cruel device, with it’s edge planted firmly between her swollen folds.

A shiver of excitement runs through you, and if possible, you’re even more turned on than you were before. You can feel your cock getting heavy at the thought of fucking that sweet little pussy and bringing your encounter with this lady to it’s ultimate climax.

But not yet. You’re not about to let this one off that easily!

Quietly, you move to the wall and scan the vast assortment of weapons until you’ve made your choice – a black leather hand flogger with metal studs on the tails. You take your position behind her so you won’t be seen, then slowly, you bring the flogger up over your shoulder, placing the first stroke in your mind. Without warning, you swing your arm forward and down, slapping the ends of the leather strands across the center of her buttocks.

CRACK!

She yelps, surprised by the assault, then begins to pull helplessly against the chains as you strike her again and again, first one firm cheek, then the other.

CRACK! CRACK!

Her body trembles and squirms with each blow, driving her pussy even further into the board. After giving her ass the full treatment, you move to the spot just below the bra line and continue the assault on her back, striking her just hard enough to achieve the response you want without causing any permanent damage to her beautiful skin. You stop for a moment to give her a rest. Carefully, you remove the steel clamps from her nipples, not in consideration for her, but to gain better access for what you have planned next. The pull on her arms stretch the full swells of her breasts tight across the ribs, creating a condition of maximum presentation and minimum protection. You take full advantage of the exposure and deliver a dozen or more stinging blows to those delicate curves.

CRACK! CRACK!

You snap the flogger across her ribs next, and all around her upper thighs. Her beckoning moans now seem to mingle with the sounds of the leather slapping against her naked flesh, promoting an exquisite display of pleasure and pain. By the time you return the weapon back to its place on the wall, the poor girl is completely exhausted. Her body is covered with a sheen of her own sweat from head to toe, her helpless gaze, signaling total submission to whatever may happen next. You decide to test her compliance, and for the first time, you speak to her in a low, commanding voice,

“Rise.”

The sudden break in silence makes her shudder, yet she remains still. You take a short breath and repeat the order, followed by a slap to her hip with the palm of your hand.

“RISE!”

Her legs are shaking from over-exertion, but she somehow manages to push herself up off the board again with what little strength she has. She breathes sigh of relief, then relaxes as you slide the wooden horse out from between her legs. Even in the soft candlelight, you can see her clit glistening like a pearl, her arousal clearly evident. Pain and pleasure are obviously one in the same for this girl! You approach her again. Reaching down between her thighs, you run your hand against the pink, swollen flesh. A muffled moan pours out from behind the gag and you watch with fascination as she squirms around your rough caresses. Your own lust seizes you again, more terribly and urgently now. You pull the red ball out of her mouth and quickly turn her head to kiss her. She eagerly parts her lips, allowing your swirling tongues to meet. Then you step back to unzip your pants. Her breathing quickens with anticipation when she sees your throbbing cock bulging outward from the tight confines of your cotton briefs.

BDSM Community with 1000’s members. Click here to join and find your BDSM partner. It’s absolutely free! No any money needed! Welcome!

Taking firm hold of her ass cheeks, you lift her hips up and slide the entire length of it into her soft, wet pussy. She draws in a sharp breath as you enter her, then stretches her lithe body into a full arch and drops her head back in complete submission. Her young breasts are right in front of you now. Her nipples are hard and erect. She gasps, both with pleasure and pain as you take each nipple into your mouth and suck on them viciously. You begin to work your cock inside her, pulling it back slowly, then driving it back in with a quick push, again and again as she dangles helplessly on the chains. Her vagina feels wonderfully hot, tight and moist, gripping your club-like manhood like a second skin!

You squeeze her ass cheeks even harder, then quicken the power and pace of your thrusts, her body jerking and shaking with each motion, eliciting deep, sexy moans from her mouth that seem to echo through every dark room and corridor, until you both climax in unison. You can still feel the walls of her vaginal tract clinching and massaging your cock as streams and streams of hot cum spill into her womb. For the final few moments, you hold her tight and quietly relish the feel of her warm body against you.

As your head clears, your thoughts suddenly turn to the owner of the house. You realize that you’ve tested your luck long enough by remaining here, and that you must leave NOW before you are discovered. Without saying a word, you quickly replace the gag on her mouth and fumble to get dressed. The poor girl looks at you, confused at first, then alarmed. You can almost hear her pleading,

“Look, I gave you what you wanted, now PLEASE let me go!”

She squirms and whimpers as she, once again, feels the cold bite of the steel clamps on her nipples. Picking up the candle, you whisper, “Thank you,” then give her a wink before stepping out of the room, leaving the young damsel exactly as you found her — standing spread-eagled and alone in the dark. Her muffled protests can still be heard from the black pitch below as you retreat back up the narrow steps to the cellar.

Outside, the rain has stopped, and the warm sunlight is already breaking through the clouds. Quietly, you close the cellar doors, and then proceed down the gravel road from which you came, quickening your pace until the old house is far from view.

Click here to read more about wooden horse or pony torture

Story by NightOwl64

Sent by Kelly (27 y.o., sub, Bonn)

Undisciplined Subs – Girls collared, spanked, tortured as you wish!

Hours later, she awakens, she attempts to move, only to find herself chained. Her wrists crossed over her head to a ring in the ceiling, legs spread wide each ankle chained to rings on the floor. Her eyes widen as the cool air hits her naked flesh. Still groggy, and trying to focus she starts to panic, her eyes moving around the room, till they stop on him, sitting across the room from her, as if he had been watching her. He rises and slowly moves toward her the whip dangling from his hand. “Do you know where you are slut?” With a shake of her head she says softly “no.” He laughs then, a deep-throated laugh, as he reaches her his hand raises the whip, it’s five blades caressing her flesh. With a flick of his wrist it snaps with a CRACK against her bare breasts. She jumps in her chains her eyes wide, nipples suddenly erect, as a red welt rises on those soft mounds.

With an evil grin on his face, he walks around her, dangling the whip across her flesh, teasing her. Every once in a while he snaps it with a CRACK against her. Once on her ass, another on her back, yet another on her treasure, all over her body. With whimpers and moans, she trembles, never knowing when the whip will strike her again. As suddenly as it started he stops, moving in front of her again, he squats and with the handle of the whip raises her chin. “You are mine now slave. Do you understand that?” Looking to him, her eyes showing a mixture of fear and awe, she whispers softly, “Yes Master.” Those words uttered so softly, send a tremor through her whole body, as the realization hits her, the cold truth of his statement and her reply. With a smile on his lips at her response, he moves whip handle from her chin, to her full trembling lips, pushing the end of the handle against her mouth, he forces those lips open, and with a laugh, taunting her, “pleasure the whip slave.” Her small soft, wet tongue, snakes around the end of the whip, caressing it, licking it, the he pushes it further into her mouth, she tightens her mouth around it, and as he moves it slowly in and out of her mouth, each time it hits her throat, the muscles relax to allow the handle to slide down. His breathing quickens a bit as he watches her suck the whip, the bulge in his trousers showing his growing desire for her.

Slowly, he pulls the handle from her mouth, it wet with her salvia, and he trails it down her chin, across her throat, to her full breasts, circling the wet end around her hardened pink nipples. Her back arches in her chains, her thighs open as the dew of her treasure glistens with her growing need. He laughs at her then, and with a sudden movement smacks her breasts with the whip handle. Tears spring to her eyes as the pain shoots through her, and that whip handle trails down across her belly, taut with fear, pain, and need. She dares not speak, eyes riveted on the whip handle as he moves it lower, and lower, tracing the outside of her treasure softly. She whimpers those thighs spreading painfully as wide as her chains will allow, her juices dripping slowly on the handle. Again, with no warning, not a change in his expression, his wrist tightens and the handle slams against her treasure. Her eyes roll, and she almost faints, as the pain screams through her lower body, but her clit instantly hardens, throbbing, and quivering. Seeing that, he licks his lips, and then sneers to her “did you like that slut?”

She trembles, pain and pleasure moving in waves through her body, and stares into his dark eyes. Trying to find her voice, she doesn’t answer quick enough and he grabs her hair cruelly tilting her head way back to stare down at her, his other hand still with the whip handle, teasing circles around her throbbing clit. He growls at her “answer me slut” as the whip handle taps against her clit. She almost screams the need building inside her “Yes Master!” He laughs then a cruel cold laugh. “Do not release slut, if you do you will be beaten within an inch of your life.” As she nods to him, her teeth biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood, he laughs again as he rams the handle deep into her treasure, moving it in and out slowly, twisting it around, always making sure to scrape it against her clit as it comes out then slamming it back into her. Her body writhing, his hand still tightly holding onto her hair she moans and cries, her willpower fighting the torture to her clit. Her every sense alive and screaming for release, he sees she is right on the edge, and as quickly as it started, the handle slides out of her now soaking wet treasure.

He releases his grip on her hair, the grip was so tight, strands come away from her scalp entwined between his fingers, and he moves behind her. Her chest heaving as she struggles to regain some type of composure, tears streaming down her face, her clit aching with the need to release. Blood dripping down her chin, small droplets landing on her swollen breasts, as her teeth have bitten through her lip. Silently he watches her, that whip handle still slick with her juices, he runs the handle along her spine, causing her to shudder, goose flesh rising on her flushed skin. Down her back to the cleft of her ass, along the crack, he then suddenly pushes her forward, and with one hand spreads her cheeks. With the handle slides it across her anus, to push against that swollen clit again.

A load moan escapes her, her legs shaking as her clit throbs against the handle end. Then suddenly the handle is at her anus. With one hard sharp thrust he slams it into her ass, laughing as she screams. The handle inserted, he watches her quiver as he eases it in and out of her ass, slow at first then faster and harder as his own cock hard as a rock strains against his pants. He slaps her ass cheek with the palm of his other hand, while that whip handle moves in and out at a lightening pace. Her eyes rolling, as she struggles to breathe, her anus being ripped cruelly, her clit on fire. She bites down on her ruined lip to maintain consciousness.

With one final thrust, he pushes the handle deep into her ass, almost to the blades, and leaves it there, the 5 blades dangling down making it look as if she has a tail. Then he reaches up unchaining her hands. Bending her back cruelly so her treasure is exposed to him, he unzips his pants, stepping out of them. His large cock standing straight up he moves to her one hand spreading her treasure, the other reaching around pushing the whip handle deeper he slams his cock into her soaking wet treasure. He brutally thrusts his cock in and out of her while his hand thrusts the whip handle in and out of her ass. Raping both holes at the same time. Her moans and screams mix together echoing through the house as he bends his head, cruelly biting her swollen nipples. Then his tongue snakes around her full breasts as his hips thrusting his cock into her becomes more savage, his arm muscles straining as he slams the handle of the whip deeper and deeper into her ass. His head then rises as his teeth grasp her earlobe and he whispers. “Do not release…”

She looks to him her eyes have taken on a wild hunted look as the waves of pain mixed with pleasure rack her body. Her pussy muscles tightening against his now throbbing cock, as she can feel his release building, she struggles to maintain, her mind starting to cloud with the struggle. With one last brutally savage thrust of his cock and the whip handle, he explodes into her as she screams, and swoons, his seed fills her. His thrusts slow, and he just rips the whip handle from her ass, he then pulls from her, laughing as her limp body drops to the floor. Semen and blood trickling down her thighs, he throws the whip aside and bends down, slapping her awake. With a moan her eyelids flutter staring at him towering over her. He grabs her hair pulling her head up and thrusting it to his still erect cock. “Clean it now slut,” forcing it between her ruined lips. Shaking her clit still throbbing with the release it was denied, her mouth and tongue work to clean her own juices mingled with his from his cock.

As she finishes, she stares at him, need, desire, love, awe all shining in her eyes. Her body red blotches from her abuse shining on her skin, he bends down and unchains her ankles, one at a time, as she falls back, legs too shaking to hold her, he smirks, as she can’t even close her thighs her clit is swollen so large. With an evil glint in his eyes, he lowers in front of her, grabs her hips and thrusts her treasure to his mouth, teeth pulling on that throbbing clit. Her eyes roll back into her head, and her choked voice cries out..”please..please Master your girl begs for release…please!!” As his head pulls back from her treasure one last snake of his tongue flicking her clit he laughs. “No!” He then grabs her throws her over his shoulder, giving her red sore ass a hard slap, carries her to a small cage in the corner of the room. Opens it and tosses her in and locks the door, then steps back and regards her. The cage is small; 4 x 4, and she cannot rise higher than her hands and knees, small hands clasp at the bars as he watches her. “Sleep well slave..you are going to need it.” That said, he laughs and turns walking away.

The next day, he returns to the room. She is awake, still filled with need and the urge to release, but had not dared to do herself, she looks to him, pitifully as he stands there. Her soft voice called to him “Master?” Smiling to himself he regards her, “Yes girl?” “Master May I please have something to eat?” he smirks then and shakes his head. “No girl you may not” But then he opens the door and points to a bowl of water on the floor, “you may drink though, on your belly, do not use your hands.” Giving him a grateful look for the water, slides out of the cage, and worms on her belly to the bowl her parched tongue lapping the water thirstily until it is gone. Seeing she is finished he grabs her by the hair and takes her to a pot in the corner. “relieve yourself.”

Mortified as he stands there watching her, she does as bidden and moves on her belly to his feet. He then grabs her hair again, and thrusting a gag in her mouth, and a hood over her head, darkness surrounds her as she tries to whimper, being denied even the ability to see him. He takes her to the center of the room and lays her on her back, taking her arms and spreading them, chaining them to rings on the floor, then doing the same with her legs. Leaving her in a wide spread eagle, he begins to walk around her, inspecting every inch of her body. He move to a table numerous instruments lying on it, and takes a long hollow needle, and three rings all small and moves back to her kneeling at her side. He bends his head flicking his tongue at one nipple. As it hardens he pinches it pulling it out then in one deft movement, stabs it with the needle. Her body tries to jump but the bindings hold her fast, as he slides one ring into her nipple, releasing it and moving between her legs.

Grinning as he sees her clit is still swollen, he grabs to with a thumb and forefinger, pulling it to expose it more. Her legs shake uncontrollably as a small orgasm takes her, unable to stop it, he laughs and pinches it hard then stabs it with the needle. Her scream is muffled by the gag, as her clit throbs on the needle, he then quickly slides the ring on, closes it and lets it go. The ring moving up and down with the force of her tortured clit’s throbs. He then moves to the other side of her and raking a fingernail across her nipple, pinches it as it hardens and pierces that one as well sliding the ring on. Tears streaming down her hidden face her body shakes on the floor, he smiles at his work and rises, putting the needle back on the table and getting a fine long gold chain. Moving back to her, he bent looping the chain through the rings on her nipples, wrapping it around her waist, then down her pelvis through the ring on her clit, clasping it there. He chuckles giving the chain a tug at her waist, this pulling on all three rings at once, he watches as her head shakes back and forth, and a tremor moves through her.

With a grin he playfully smacks her full breasts watching them jiggles and the rings pull on each other, then moves to the fireplace and pulls out a branding iron, sticking it deep into the fire to heat. He moves back to her and undoes the hood and gap, her face flushed red hair sticking to her from the heat of the hood she struggles to move, each movement of her body, pulling on those rings, with her eyes wide she holds still, staring at him. Looking down at her, he smiles to her “doesn’t it feel good when you move now?” She swallows and whispers “yes Master.” He nods to her then turns moving back to the fireplace pulls the iron out and grins seeing it is white hot. The brand is small his initials in a circle as he moves to her inert bound form. He looks down at her as he kneels between her legs and smiles softly to her his eyes were for once kind “You may scream little one”.

Her eyes widen in shock and incomprehension at the sight of the iron. With one last look to her he then lowers the iron, pressing it into the soft flesh of her inner thigh holding it as he counts out loud a slow count of 5 seconds. The searing iron, smokes and burns into her flesh as she throws her head back screaming in one agonized wail. He pulls the iron away and smiles at the clean brand. Rising he places the iron in a bucket of water with a hiss and returns to her with a ointment, his large fingers gently coating the brand so it heals well. That done he unchains her and lifts her, moving her to a rug on the floor in front of the fire, with a softness she had not seen before he brushes the hair from her face, then from a nearby tray, holds a small piece of cheese to her lips. “Eat.”

Looking up at him, her eyes showing her awe of the man, she leans down and with small bites eats out of his hand. Once done, he lays her down. “Now sleep my little one.” With a smile and a soft nod of her head she whispers “Yes my Master.” And closes her eyes and sleeps.

The next day, her third with him, he comes in and rouses her from the rug. He has a thin gold band, about the size of her throat in his hand, a locking clasp in the back, he holds it to her showing it to her. Her eyes look to the collar, then up to him, love and devotion shining in them. “Do you know what this means little one?” He asked her his eyes never leaving hers. “Yes Master” she replied in a soft tone. He nods then regards her “submit” he says softly. Sliding to his feet on her belly lovingly places soft kisses to his feet, then struggles to her knees raising her arms over her head, crossing her wrists and lowering her head to nestle between then, she says, “I am yours Master, I submit myself to your pleasure and whim, I only live to serve and please you, may you collar your slave and allow her to serve you with all the love her body and soul has for you.”

He smiles down to her and gently raises her chin, closing the collar around her throat and locking it. He then sits back pulling her to him, so her cheek lays against his thigh, his hands running through her hair. He then begins to speak softly “your name is Ann, you will answer only to that name with me. I will allow you to continue with your life before, at my whim. But, know at anytime, should I see fit I can take it away, and you will just remain here naked serving me. She gazes up to him, eyes shining having waited all her life for such a Master, and nods “yes Master. Ann understands Master. He nods then and points to her clothes in the corner. “Now dress yourself, your car is outside, you will be late for work if you don’t hurry, and if you are you will be beaten when you get home.” With a bright smile she moves to her clothes dressing quickly and then runs to him placing soft kisses to his feet she then rises and moves to the door. “I love you my Master”.

It was a new woman that sat in her office that day, a glow to her skin and her eyes, as she flew through her day, thinking of what pleasures he would want when she gets home. Her boss, noticing the change, comes in to compliment her on what a weekend she must have had. She smiles brightly to him. “Oh yes I had a magical weekend.” Her head held high, her pride in being owned by such a man shining in her eyes, her collar glints off the florescent lighting. He boss smiles and says “what a lovely necklace.”

Story by Liandrin

Sent by Lorain (34 y.o., sub, Madrid)

Masters Taking. Torture tits and pussy DVD. Duration: 01:23:03. Click to preview scenes >

He was already home when I got there. I would normally meet him in town so it was a little unusual to see his car in the garage. I walked inside, called out to him, and went into the bathroom to turn the shower on. When I came back into the lounge I realised that, depending on the decision I made in the next few minutes, we wouldn’t be going out that night, or maybe for the whole weekend. Lying on the coffee table was my collar, and if I picked it up, it would mean I was his slave until he took it off me.

When the collar is out it means that I am to be used as his slut, his playground, and a body for his pleasure. Either of us can bring the collar out, but he is the only one who can take the collar off once I have it on. Sometimes he will use me for a couple of hours and at other times he will keep me as his slave for a couple of days. He is a good master of the collar and I experience great pleasure when I am his slut.

I looked at the collar lying there, small silver studs glistening in the fading sunlight. My tiredness seemed to fade as I thought of all the pleasure of the collar and I looked around to see where he was. He was not in the room and I could only guess that he was upstairs waiting to see what my decision would be. Another rule of accepting the collar is that once I pick it up I must present myself to him, and he will attach the collar to me. I must be naked and be ready for him from the moment I present with the collar. Being ready means having hard nipples and a wet pussy. Mostly I get wet as soon as I accept the collar, but I always pinch my nipples and rub my pussy just to make sure I am ready to serve.

I left the collar lying on the table, went, and took my shower. I would make him wait just a little longer before I let him know the kind of weekend I was prepared to have. I rubbed my hands over my tits, feeling my nipples harden as I washed them. Then I took the showerhead off the wall and slipped it between my legs. I didn’t want to be punished for not being completely clean for him. I thought about letting myself cum with the shower, but I decided against it. I would be completely his for as long as he wanted and I would wait until he allowed me to cum. I knew that part of his pleasure was watching me cum, so I would get my fair share of indulgence.

After I was thoroughly clean, I dried myself off. With my skin still warm I went into the lounge, picked up the collar and headed up the stairs. On the way, I pinched my nipples, but no where near as hard as he might pinch them. I walked into our bedroom and stood before him with the collar in my hand. His face lit up, and he smiled one of his wicked sexy smiles. ‘Good girl’ he said as I walked towards him. He took the collar and as he was putting it around my neck he asked me his usual question; ‘Are you my little slut?’ ‘Yes’ I answered as he pushed my shoulder to turn me around so he could fasten the collar. I felt him buckle the collar and I knew from that moment on I was there solely for his enjoyment until he decided to uncollar me.

He reached his hands around my body and grabbed my tits. ‘Good’, nice hard nipples’ he said as he slid his hand between my legs ‘and my pussy is nice and wet too’. ‘You are my slut and I am going to play with you and fuck you all weekend. You will cum only when I say you can, beg me if you must, but you must not cum without my permission. Do you understand?’ The rules of play always changed and he always spelt them out clearly after my collar was on. ‘Your body is my playground you slut, I am going to fuck you, and fuck you hard. You are going to suck my cock, and do whatever I want. At no time are you to touch yourself unless I tell you to. Is that what you want you little slut, to be my slave?’ ‘Yes it is, please use me to make yourself cum, please make my body your playground. I am a slut and I need you to use me like one’ I replied. As the exchange of rules and agreement went on, I could feel my pussy starting to throb.

‘Good we are clear on the fact that you are a slut’ he said as he grabbed my nipples again. His grip on them was tight. As he twisted them, he pulled them, stretching them out from my body. I put my head back into his neck as I moaned. This made him twist them all the harder, pulling them as far as he could. He bit my neck as he continued to play with my tits. He went from kneading them to pulling my nipples over and over again. I could feel his hands digging deep into my tits and I could feel his cock growing hard as he pressed against my back.

My tits are large and round, and I have good nipples. I know that he loves to play with my tits as he does so at every chance he gets. He let go of my tits and moved away from me, but only for a moment. His hands reached around again and it was then that I felt the pain that I loved. Nipple clamps gong on each nipple. The clamps had a chain between them and he tugged on it hard, pulling my tits and nipples downwards. Then he attached a thin leather strap with beads onto the chain. He let the strap drop to the floor. I had no idea what this could be for. ‘Bend over slut’ he said as he pushed my back. I bent over and spread my legs as he commanded. He reached between my legs and grabbed the strap. I moved my hips so that I might feel his hand on my flesh. ‘Stand up’ he ordered and as I did so I felt the strap divide into two pieces where the beads ended, he took these over my shoulders. The beads on the strap were pressed hard against my pussy and ass. It was like a harness that slipped along my pussy and gave him reins to control it with. Oh god, what wonderful new toy has he made for me this time I wondered. He always spent a lot of time making new toys for both our pleasure, and I was always amazed at the ideas he came up with.

‘Kneel on the floor slut’ was his next command as he pushed me away from his body. I knelt down where I was, still not facing him. He moved infront of me, grabbed the leather straps and pulled on them. My nipples were being pulled and the beads were running along my. I could feel the leather and beads moving over my ass, a hole I loved him to play with and that I knew then was going to get a lot of attention over the weekend. He took his cock in his hand ‘make me cum slut’ he said as he pushed his cock between my lips. My hands were free so I grabbed his thighs as I sucked his hard cock. I loved sucking his cock and making him cum, and this time it was even more fun with him pulling on the leather straps. The harder I sucked the more he pulled. My nipples were being stretched as far as they would go, the beads were working my pussy, and the feeling on my ass was incredible. I worked his cock with my mouth, sucking and licking every inch of it. I took it as deep into my throat as I could and when I did, he grabbed the back of my head and shoved his cock deeper into my mouth. ‘Suck it good you dirty little slut’ he commanded as I felt his legs start to quiver. I licked his balls as my mouth slid to the base of his cock again, and with this he tugged harder than ever on the strap, ‘good girl’ he shouted as I sucked him to climax. His cum filled my mouth and I sucked every last drop out of him that I could. He quickly pulled his cock out of, my mouth and stepped back to watch me swallow his cum and lick my lips. I tasted every last drop that I could as he continued to pull on the straps.

I let out a moan as my pussy felt the beads and my ass the leather drag over it. ‘Oh, she likes that does she’ he said with a smirk on his face. ‘Get on the bed, and present yourself for me’ he said as he pushed me to the bed. Presenting myself meant getting on all fours, with my legs spread as wide as they would go. I obeyed him without saying a word. I got into the middle of the bed and positioned myself accordingly. ‘Good, you are truly my little slave’ he purred, his voice full of excitement. He tied my hands and feet to the bed, so tightly so that I could not move from where I was positioned. ‘Let me see my pussy’ he muttered as he moved between my legs. I could feel his breath against my pussy lips as he examined the wet juicy flesh that was there for his pleasure. He pulled on the leather strap a couple of times and I knew he would be watching the way my pussy twitched with the movement of the beads.

He reached his arm underneath me and took the leather strap off the nipple clamp chain. He tightened the clamps and pulled on the chain as hard as he could. I couldn’t help but moan with the pain and the pleasure it bought me. He laughed and pulled it again. It was then for the first time that his fingers slid onto my pussy. Tickling the edges of my lips was enough to make me cum. I didn’t have time to ask him, before I felt the rush through my body and the wetness trickle down my legs. ‘You didn’t ask me if you could cum, you slut’ he barked at me. ‘I’m sorry’ I whispered, waiting to see what his reaction would be. ‘You want to be punished?’ he asked. ‘Yes, please punish me, I need to be punished’ I replied. He went to his chest of toys and I felt the paddle crash hard against the cheeks of my ass. Not once but three times, hard smacks that made my skin ache. ‘You are my playground slut, you are here for my pleasure you cum when I say’ he said as he let the paddle go against my ass for the fourth time. He caressed my ass for a few minutes, and I could feel the sensation of the spanking creep into my pussy.

‘Does my pussy want me to spend some time with it?’ he asked. ‘Yes, it is your pussy, please touch your pussy’ I begged softly. I felt him run something hard along my slit. It was warm, but hard and I wasn’t sure what it was until I heard him turn it on. He had a vibrator to use on me. ‘Oh god’ I moaned in pleasure as he stroked it up and down my lips. Dragging the tip of the vibe up and down my pussy felt so good ‘please may I cum?’ I asked him. ‘No, slut, you may not’ was his gruff reply. ‘Please may I cum’ I begged again. ‘No, you must wait’ he said with a satisfied tone. He teased me a while longer in the same manner. All the time I felt my orgasm building inside me, not sure how much longer I could wait. Then I felt his finger slide to my ass. His finger was lubricated and he circled my ass gently with it. ‘Please please let me cum’ I shouted at him. ‘You may cum’ he laughed, just as I felt my pussy throb with the power of my orgasm. My pussy was drenched. ‘God, oh god’ I screamed as the waves of delight shot through my body. He laughed as my body released and his only word were ‘I’ve only just begun slut.’

He kept working his finger round my ass until he slipped it inside me. Little by little I felt the tip of his finger creep inside me. “You’ve got a great ass’ he said as he started the vibrator again. This time he didn’t play with my pussy at all. I felt the head of the vibrator resting against my pussy and then he shoved it deep inside me, twisting it as he pushed it in as deep as it would go. All the time his finger was working my ass. ‘Cum you little slut, cum for me’ he shouted as he fucked my pussy with the vibrator. I did not have to be told a second time, I came harder than I had minutes before. When my body stopped quivering, he removed his finger and the vibrator.

My pussy ached to feel his cock inside me. He was so turned on I knew I wouldn’t have to wait long. I felt him position himself between my legs on his knees. He reached beneath me and pulled on the nipple clamp chain, just as the head of his cock touched my pussy. His cock felt so hard I was ready to be fucked by him. ‘I’m going to fuck you like you deserved, you slut’ he said as his cock drove deep inside me. His cock felt so good. He knew how to work it inside me better than anything I had ever known. His hips grinding into me as he went as deep as he could, was a feeling that I loved. Sliding his cock gently and then as hard as he could drove me wild. ‘I’m going to cum you slut, oh god I’m going to cum so hard’ he moaned. I came first and then his cum filled my pussy so much I wasn’t sure I could take any more. He left his cock inside me for a couple of minuets before he collapsed onto the bed. He lay there for a minute before getting up and untying my feet. ‘You dirty little slut’ he said with a grin, as he slid underneath me. He removed the nipple clamps and as he did so told me, ‘I’m going to suck your tits’. He untied my hands and started to suck my tits with great passion, biting and nibbling, teasing and tweaking them with his teeth.

I don’t know how long I slept for, but when I woke up, he was sucking my tits again. This was going to be a long slutty weekend.

Story by Cete

Sent by Lorain (34 y.o., sub, Madrid)

Undisciplined Subs – Girls collared, spanked, tortured as you wish!

Knowing she couldn’t move and that attempting to would only cause her more discomfort, she focused her mind on surveying the room. There was what appeared to be a table of some sort in the center. It was larger than a normal table, much larger and made of steel. Along the far wall she could make out what looked like chains that she imagined would have been used in medieval dungeons. Along the wall to her right was a sink and some drawers and cupboards. She shuddered to think what might be concealed in those cupboards. In the corner on that wall stood a door. The wall behind her seemed bare from what she could feel and the wall to her left had various “instruments” hanging from it. She took a deep breath and wondered about the type of person who had taken her to this dungeon. Just then she heard a noise above her. The sound of footsteps moved towards her right and then she heard a door open and close and the sound of footsteps on stairs. She found herself holding her breath and concentrated on letting the air out and then taking even breaths.

The door opened and a man walked in. He was in the shadows so she couldn’t make out his features. Her first impression was of a man of incredible height, but this could have been heightened by the fact that she was on the floor. She strained to see his face and then heard his deep voice break through the silence like the crack of a whip “Close your eyes.” It was not yelled, but his voice was like steel and she obeyed, not daring to tempt that anger that was behind that statement. She listened as his heavy footsteps slowly moved closer to her. It took all her self control to keep her eyes closed. Finally, she could sense that he was standing right over her. She heard a soft chuckle and then she was roughly pushed on to her back. Her hands were crushed under her in this position and she winced in discomfort. Her eyes opened from the shock of being moved and the pain radiating from her wrists. Just as her eyes opened she felt the slap of a hand across her cheek. “I told you to fucking close your eyes, bitch.” She was swift to obey, her cheek still stinging.

Tied like she was, she couldn’t adjust to relieve the pressure on her hands. She felt his breath on her neck and shiver went through her body. It should have been a shiver of pure terror, but there was excitement and arousal mixed in despite what her rational mind told her. She knew she should be trying to figure out a way out, but at that moment, her mind was zoning in on this overpowering man and she could only think to obey. She jumped and gasped as she felt the tip of what she instantly knew was a very sharp knife. Her captor ran the tip along her neck, just below the rope, leaving a red scratch in it’s wake. Raven dare not move. Her chest rose and fell as she did her best to control her frenzied breathing. Suddenly, the knife stopped moving and simply rested against her neck. She could feel the blade pressing in to her delicate skin and focused on staying still. Before she could utter a sound the blade was removed and she relaxed. Too soon. Pain and shock surged through her body as her bra was cut from her chest. A small trickle of blood ran down between her breasts. A whimper escaped her lips as she heard the man give a growl of a laugh. She shook in alarm and yet in excitement. She felt her underwear being similarly cut from her and heard the man give an outright laugh. Her underwear was shoved in her mouth and she could taste her juices on them.

“Your body doesn’t lie, slut. You like this.”

Raven whimpered and tried to deny but couldn’t get the words out. He was right, her body was responding to him whether she wanted it to or not. Once again she felt the knife against her throat and then a mouth on her nipples, alternating kissing and licking them. She held back a moan. He bit her nipple hard and she jumped from the force of it causing her neck to press against the knife. A gasp escaped her lips and she swallowed slowly. Her senses were in overdrive. Her mind swimming from the pain and arousal this man was stirring in her. Just as she felt like she couldn’t take anymore he stopped. The knife was removed and she heard him move away. She wanted to open her eyes, see where he went but she dared not. Just then she was lifted in his arms and then placed gently on her feet. She had to struggle to keep her balance but she was grateful to be off her hands. Her eyes were still closed, her mouth filled with her damp underwear and her body neatly tied. She imagined she must be quite a sight. She heard a click and then the smooth sound of her captor’s voice.

“Open your eyes, cunt. I want you to see yourself.” She opened her eyes and found herself standing in front of a mirror that had been hidden from her view when she was on the floor. The image that confronted her both surprised and scared her. Her fear was not brought on by the way she looked, but by her response to it. Seeing herself like that was stirring something deep within her. She stared at her creamy white skin, illuminated by a bright bulb hanging above her. The rope was frayed and pressed in to her skin, and there was still a tiny trickle of now drying blood right in between her naked breasts. A small red line could be seen on her throat from where the knife had been pressed and there was a tiny bruise forming on her cheek. Her pussy was glistening in the light from her body’s involuntary response to his treatment of her. She was exposed, naked, vulnerable, helpless. She was his. The thought hit her like a swift punch and she felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Just then she saw him step in to the light behind her and then bite down hard on her shoulder blade. She crumpled and the only thing that kept her from falling to the ground was an arm that he looped around her stomach.

“Tell me what you see,” he growled as he took the underwear from her mouth.

“I see,” she paused trying to think of what answer she should give. “I see a prisoner.”

“Close,” he said and then kissed along her neck, still supporting her with his arm. “But not quite right. A prisoner usually doesn’t take such pleasure from her captor. Would you like to know what I see, slut?”

“Y-yes,” she stammered as he alternately bit and kissed up and down her neck.

“I see a slave. I see a slut. I see a whore who enjoys being put on display like this.” He smiled at her and then with one movement swept her off her feet and carried her to the metal table in the center of the room. He sat her on the edge of the table and then looked at her with an intense, unblinking stare.

“Are you a slut, a whore?” he questioned.

She paused, her lips parted as she wrestled with the question. His hand seemed to appear out of nowhere, hitting her cheek with such force that her head snapped to the side.

“I asked you a question, whore.”

“Yes, I am,” she admitted her shoulders slumping slightly.

“Much better,” he smiled. “And don’t look so sad. You make a lovely little slave,” he chuckled.

She looked up at him and studied him for a moment. He was the same man from the bar, but in this setting, he had a completely different look. Pure power seemed to radiate from him, his movements, even his voice were strong and in control. A tiny shiver went down her spine as she looked in his eyes and she quickly dropped her gaze.

He slowly walked up to her and then pulled the knife back out from a sheath on his waist. He smiled at her then cut the rope from her ankles first, then her wrists and finally her throat. The blood rushed to her hands and feet and her body shook from the pain. She wondered if he was done with her, then almost wanted to laugh out loud at the absurdity of that thought. An eyebrow rose as he watched her expressions change.

“Amusing thoughts, whore?”

“No, I mean, yes. I’m not sure,” the words tripped out of her mouth.

“Lay down. And shut the fuck up. You can’t even answer a simple question.”

She obeyed and lay down on the table. Her legs were still dangling over the edge and she heard him move again. Before she could react, she was being pulled further up the table by her hair. Whimpering in pain, she pushed up with her feet, helping him move her in an effort to lessen the strain on her hair. He let her go and now her whole body was layed out on the cold, steel surface. She waited, silent, still, wondering what would happen next. The only sound in the large room was the rasping of her breath.

“Give me your hand,” he commanded from her right. She reached out her hand and then felt it being secured by a metal ring. The same sequence of events was repeated for her left hand and then for each ankle. The final result was her lying on her back, spread eagled, secured to the table. The metal was cold against her skin and the restraints were unyielding. A tiny wisp of fear circulated through her veins even as her cunt became even more wet in its exposed state. He stood above her, surveying his handy work and then disappeared in to the shadows. It felt like an eternity to Raven, but only a few moments passed before his figure returned. He had a candle and vibrator in his hands. She wiggled slightly and he raised an eyebrow.

“I see I caught your attention, cunt.” He lit the candle and began methodically dripping the wax along her exposed body. A drop on her right nipple, one of her stomach, one on her thigh. With each new drop, Raven cringed. A loud gasp escaped her lips as he let a large drop of wax fall directly on her clit. He then added the vibrator and she writhed under the sudden attention her little love bud was receiving. While her clit was being tease and attacked by the vibrator he began kissing up her thigh to the spot where the wax had landed. He circled the wax with his tongue and then bit down, hard. She cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. His teeth scraped the wax off her skin. He slapped her cunt with the vibrator and then clamped his mouth over her swollen clit, scraping the wax off as he sucked and bit her. She moaned and tried to move away from the intense sensations he was giving her. His touch was relentless, however, and she couldn’t move. Finally, he stopped his assault on her clit and moved to the drops of wax covering her body. At each spot, he bit down hard leaving teeth marks and making Raven cry out in pain. After he had finished scraping all the wax off her body, he moved to the bottom of the table and without warning shoved two fingers in her cunt. She was dripping wet and his fingers slid in quite easily, but the surprise made Raven cry out. He yanked his fingers out and walked up to the head of the table shoving them in her face.

“Lick them off you dirty slut. You are so pathetic. Lick them off and taste how wet your dirty cunt is right now.”

She licked them off trying not to gag on them as he shoved them roughly in her mouth. He laughed and then took his nails and raked them down her body. Her pussy was aching and her clit was throbbing. She couldn’t think straight. Her sense were swimming. He laughed again as he walked away, leaving her trembling.

She couldn’t tell how much time had passed. Her arms and legs ached from staying in the same position and her body longed for release. Not just for physical release, but also for sexual release. Raven couldn’t remember the last time she had needed to cum so badly.

The dungeon was dark except for the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. There were no windows and no way to tell the passage of time. Raven found herself staring at the ceiling, begging for something to happen. Anything. Her skin still burned and tingled from the wax and her captors merciless bites. Where was he? Occasionally she heard some movement in the room, but she could not turn to see despite her best efforts. Ultimately, she gave up and just waited. Exhaustion began to kick in and her eyes fluttered shut. She fought the urge to fall asleep, not knowing what would happen were she to give in. No matter how hard she tried though, sleep was quickly taking over. Her eyes had just closed for the 20th time when she felt the sting of a blow to her ribs. She jolted and yelled in shock just as a riding crop was brought down on her hips.

“Did I give you permission to sleep?” Another blow from the riding crop, this time across her breasts. She tried to move, to curl up, to lessen the blows, but she couldn’t. She could hear the riding crop slice through the air again before it smacked hard against her legs. Her only option was to endure whatever he chose to gave her, so she bit down on her lips and braced herself. The pain was very real, but to her dismay, her pussy was getting wet yet again.

“You’re pathetic,” he barked at her as he dealt another blow with the riding crop. “Look at you, writhing in pain and yet your pussy is dripping, begging for more. Well I decide if and when you get more. Do you understand, slut?”

She nodded and was rewarded with another sharp blow from the riding crop. “Say it!” he commanded. “Say that you are a dirty fucking slut and that you will take whatever I decide to give you.”

“I’m a dirty slut and I’ll take whatever you decide to give me,” she breathed.

“Good girl,” he cooed. She heard him throw the riding crop to the side and then felt his fingers exploring her slit once again. They were quickly covered by her juices and he smiled at her as he licked them off.

“What a pathetic little cunt.” With those words he moved to her ankles and released them. THen he let unhooked her hands and she curled up, a hand moving down to her wet pussy. He slapped her hand away. “I know you want to touch, but you are not allowed to, now get off the table, whore.”

She quickly climbed down from the table and stood in front of him. He grabbed a handful of her hair and threw her to the floor. “How dare you try to stand in front of me. I didn’t give you permission to do that.” Her head was yanked back fiercely and she yelped in pain. “Open your mouth, slut!” She obeyed. He opened his pants to reveal his hard cock. There was precum leaking from the tip and he rubbed it against her cheek. “Do you want to suck my cock, whore?”

“Yes,” she stammered. He pulled hard on her hair as he thrust his cock all the way in her mouth. She gagged slightly but he didn’t care. He mercilessly pounded his cock in and out of her mouth as she desperately tried to keep up. Letting go of her hair, he cupped her face in his hands and slowed down just enough so she wasn’t gagging anymore. “Do you want me to cum in your mouth, slave?” he asked her. Her eyes grew big as she nodded up at him. He thrust his cock in her eager mouth a few more times before pulling it out and slapping it across her face. “When will you learn that it’s not about what you fucking want? The correct response would have been, “Do you want to cum in my mouth, sir?” Cumslut!” He stroked his hard cock while saying these words to her and with the last word shot his load all over her face and hair.

She stayed kneeling at his feet, covered in his cum, still aching to have some release of her own. “Stand up, slut. I’m not done with you.” Obeying, she stood and he led her to the wall with the chains. He shackled her legs to the wall about shoulder width apart and then chained her hands together and shackled them above her head. “Do you want to be fucked, slut?” he asked her as he dragged his fingernails down her chest.

“Do you want to fuck me?” she replied.

He smiled and nodded. “You are a fast learner,” he said as he rubbed his fingers against her throbbing clit. A moan escaped her lips and she closed her eyes. A slap across her face made her open her eyes. “Keep them open, whore.” He went to retrieve the vibrator he had used on her earlier. Pressing the vibrator against her clit he began to finger her, licking and biting along her neck as he did so. “You’re such a pathetic cumslut aren’t you? You want nothing more than to have me fuck you right now. You don’t even care if I used my fingers, just so long as your pathetic pussy gets to be fucked. Am I right?”

“Yes,” she moaned and he sped up his movements.

“Slut. Whore. Slave.” he whispered as he kissed along her neck. “Don’t you even THINK of cuming until I fucking say you can.” She let out a moan and he stopped fingering her and took the hand that was covered in her juices and wrapped it around her throat. As he chocked her, he shoved his cock deep inside her and she let out a strangled moan. He pumped in and out of her fiercely as she struggled for breath. Letting out a moan of his own he continued to ram his cock in her as his cum spilled out inside of her. She shook from the effort of containing her own orgasm and just when she thought she couldn’t possibly take it anymore she heard him rasp out one word. “Now.” The orgasm that shook through her body was unlike anything she had ever experienced. He let go of her throat as her body writhed in ecstasy. As the last wave of her orgasm coursed through her body she became limp and the only thing holding her up was her chained hands. He pulled his cock out of her and then unchained her ankles, then hands. As the chains fell off, she slumped to the floor. Walking to the sink he washed his hands and then reached above in to a cupboard and pulled out a towel. He threw the towel at her and ordered her to clean herself up and then walked out of the room. The thud of a deadbolt rang out in the empty room as Raven sat on the floor, gasping and shaking.

* * *

The smell of pancakes floated up to him in his sleep and he stretched lazily in bed. He could hear the sound of his wife moving around in the kitchen and decided it would be nice to go join her.

“Good morning,” she said as he walked in the room. Raven placed a plate of food in front of him the moment he sat down at the table. He smiled up at her and pulled her in to his lap. They kissed and then he let her go, swatting her butt as she walked away from him. She glanced over her shoulder at the man of her dreams and then her eyes wandered to the door that led down to their basement. A content little smile spread across her face as she recalled the birthday present he had given her the day before. She couldn’t imagine a more loving Master and she hoped that He would allow her to spend some more time in the dungeon soon…

by twisteddesire

sent by MasterDo

Infernal Restraints – website with girls tortured in basements and dungeons!

To see free photos with girls tortured in basements and dungeons preview click on Gallery 1, Gallery 2, Gallery 3, more >

More than the indignity of being turned into ponies, there is the bite of tight cords and the kiss of the whip upon bare flesh to constantly remind them of their status, and to encourage them to run their fastest. Terrible and painful are the punishments handed out by harsh Masters, to those who falter or fail.

An extract:

“I got this idea a couple of nights ago,” Henry said as he tightened a strap. “I figured that we use horses for much more than racing. They plough fields, pull wagons and can be ridden from place to place. There.”

He had buckled the strap and was standing back to look at his invention.

Wildflower was standing there, looking rather scared. It was seven days after her punishment for losing the race, a punishment that continued for two days and left her a weaker and generally much more submissive ponygirl. This day, however, she had recovered from the worst of the punishments and had regained enough of her former personality to be afraid of what was about to happen. She was standing in front of one of the stables and being attached to a curious looking device. It was basically two large wheels with a seat attached to the axle. Two lengths of wood pole were also attached to the axle and came forward to where their ends were attached to her waist. This was done by means of a wide leather belt secured around her narrow waist and bolted to the ends of the wooden arms.

As was usual, her hands were bound behind her, wrists crossed, and she was wearing only a very short skirt made of leather. The bottom of that skirt came to less than an inch below her sex, which, in keeping with Mary’s suggestion, was completely shaved.

Henry was admiring his invention that fine, warm morning when Mary came up.

“Is this the cart you talked about?” she asked.

“Sure is. I got the idea from what they call ‘dog carts’ in Belgium. The farmers would attach a large dog to a cart and let it pull the cart, much like a horse does. Well, I attached a ponygirl to this cart and intend to let her pull me around.”

Wildflower turned an anxious face towards her owner at that announcement but said nothing.

“Of course, there is no use having a large cart,” he continued. “Too much weight. So I took the sides off. Then why use a floor on the cart when all you really need is a seat? Eventually it dawned on me that all you really need is a seat and some poles to attached to the ponygirl. So here it is.”

“Will she be able to pull your weight?”

“We shall see, won’t we?”

With that, he carefully climbed over one pole and positioned himself on the seat. Immediately his weight lifted the poles until the belt was pushing against her ribcage. He shifted his weight forward on the seat until the balance was more even. “Going to have to adjust the position of the seat,” he muttered.

“You’re missing something,” Mary said cheerfully.

“What?”

“Try going someplace.”

“Hand me that whip.” When she did, he snapped the whip once to get the ponygirl’s attention, and then said, “Gitty-up!”

Fearing the whip behind her, Wildflower leaned forward and began pulling. The cart started out slowly, but it did move. Henry smiled and cracked the whip again. “Faster!”

Wildflower picked up the pace until they were moving along at a good walking clip. Then Mary called out, “Turn around!”

It was then it dawned on him that the missing element was a set of reins.

“Turn left!” he commanded.

Wildflower obeyed although it took her a while to learn how to steer the cart with her waist. Her bare feet dug into the dirt with the effort to turn the cart and still continue its motion.

They completed a full turn and were headed back towards where Mary stood smiling, as Henry was busy thinking up new additions to his ponycart. “Whoa!” he commanded when they reached the starting point.

Dismounting, he left the cart and ponygirl standing while he went into the stable. A few moments later he came out with a handful of leather straps.

“There should be a metal bit to go into her mouth, just as we do on horses,” he explained to Mary. “But those I have are all too big for her mouth. Besides, they all have reins attached and the harness is made to go over a horse’s head. But I think I can rig up something that will do the same thing.”

He laid out the straps on the pole next to the ponygirl. Taking one, he bent it in half to make a loop in the center. That part he put over her head. “Open your mouth.” She obeyed, but with apprehension in her eyes. He inserted the leather strap into the open mouth and tied it behind her head, leaving the ends trailing down to almost her bound hands. Then he tied two more straps to that around her head and ran them back to the seat.

This time he started out holding both reins in his hands. For a short distance he let her go straight, but then he pulled back on the left rein. It was then he saw the fault in his system. Both reins were tied to mouth strap at the center of her head. When he pulled on either, all it did was to pull her head back. A little experimentation showed that for her to be able to tell which direction he was pulling, he had to hold his hands as wide apart as he could. And even then it did not work very well, because mostly she was feeling her head being pulled back, the normal command for a horse to slow down or halt. This was unsatisfactory.

He ordered her to a stop, and dismounted to walk her back to the starting point.

“Mary, would you please put her away in the stable,” he asked. “I have some work to do.”

He unbuckled the belt from around her waist, then the reins at the back of her head. When he told her to step forward, Mary came up and took the short straps hanging down her back from what was now nothing more than a gag. She brought the straps around in front and happily led the ponygirl away.

“It is my guess,” she told Wildflower when they were inside the stable, “that he wants to use you again later. That’s why he asked me to put you in the stable instead of back in your cell. But he didn’t say how I should secure you in the stable.” She looked around at all the overhead beams, ropes, straps, stalls and benches. She led Wildflower into one of the stalls and turned her around. Using the ends of the strap tied through her mouth, she secured the girl in the center by tying each end to an opposite side of the stall.

For a few long seconds she simply stood there, looking at the young woman, especially at those firm young breasts. Her hand reached out to gently stroke the right one. The light touch sent shivers down Wildflower’s spine. The touch of a woman was nothing new to this captive. It was, in fact, rather nice. Still, the tied girl was wary of any attention from this particular woman. She had recently suffered greatly at her hands and knew all too well just how much she enjoyed inflicting pain.

The fingertip stroking continued, even teasing the nipple, which responded normally by hardening. When Mary lowered her head and took the nipple in her mouth, Wildflower moaned. This normally sadistic woman lightly teased with her tongue, running it in circles around the nipple. She gently sucked and was rewarded with another moan of pleasure. The attention continued for a long time and in a most loving fashion, having, not unexpectedly, the normal effect on the tied girl. Her breathing came harder, and she thrust her breasts forward for this wonderful attention. In turn, both breasts were treated to this kindness until both were tingling happily.

When Wildflower was sufficiently excited, a hand reached down and unbuttoned the short skirt. It fell to the straw covered floor, exposing her bare sex. That same hand began a light stroking of that sex. It was met by a thrusting of the hips. As the lips were parted to allow one finger to stroke the most sensitive part of any woman, the moaning increased. Soon the ponygirl was pushing herself against that hand, eager for its attention, totally forgetting that only a few days before that same hand had stuffed foul, hurting nettle leaves inside her. The stinging had gone on for hours and had nearly driven Wildflower crazy.

With a woman’s sense of such matters, Mary knew when Wildflower was about to blossom into an orgasm. At that time, she withdrew her hand and mouth. Standing back a few feet she watched the pained expression on the young face and enjoyed knowing that she was now undergoing a different type of torture. Frustration can be very intense for a woman craving the ultimate satisfaction and denied it. It is, as Wildflower was experiencing, a terrible form of wonderful/horrible torture. She moaned through her gag and pleaded with her eyes.

Mary grinned, and walked off without a backward glance.

Wildflower cursed and jerked at her bound wrists. Then she tried to bring her hands around in front to touch herself where she so badly needed it. Her hands came nearly half way around, but the questing fingers fell just a little short. She cursed again and probably would have rubbed her pussy against some post or the edge of a bench had she not been secured in that one place. She began to cry.

This is an extract of a new novel from John Savage “The Great Ponygirl Race” was edited by Susan Strict, published by Strict Publishing International.

My feet found the chair and pushed up to relieve the terrible pressure on my neck. The noose loosened, for which I was grateful as I sucked in that wonderful air. I had feared when the noose had been pulled down snug around my neck that perhaps it would not loosen when my life depended upon it. But it did, and I was again standing on that wooden chair in the hot, dusty attic. My ass was still burning but that minor point had been forgotten in the struggle to get back on the chair.

As I stood there, breathing heavily and more scared then I had ever been in my life, a strange thought flashed through my mind. What did I look like, I wondered? For a second I envisioned the scene as it appeared to the man standing behind me with the whip in his hand.

First, there was the naked young woman standing on the chair. She was twenty-two years old, rather pretty, and with a wonderful ripe and full figure. Long shining black hair hung down onto her shoulders and danced around wildly when she had been struggling against the ropes. Oh, yes, there were ropes holding her prisoner, tight ropes, ropes on arms and legs, ropes from which she could never hope to loosen or break free. She was, in a word, helpless.

Second, a rope looped around her neck, then passing up over a beam and down to a metal hook screwed into the wall for just that purpose. The rope had been pulled snug so that this naked woman had to stand very straight upon the chair.

And third, a gag filled her mouth, a rubber ball with a strap passing through it and buckled tightly behind her head. The rubber pushed down her tongue and made speech impossible. The rubber filled her mouth. This foolish woman had insisted that the man place that gag in her mouth for she wished both not to disturb the neighbors and to feel the increased helplessness from being unable to talk. And, although she did not openly state it, it was also so that she would be unable to call a halt to the torture she had ordained for herself.

Torture was the right word. The ropes were uncomfortably tight, especially those around her elbows, but the part the man was to play was much more than just binding her body. He had his orders. Stand behind the chair, a wicked looking black leather whip in his hand, and then lash the bare bottom before him ten times with all the strength of his masculine arm.

I had only felt the kiss of that whip once, and that had been quite painful. It was thin, with a thong at the end that felt as if it were cutting the skin. I knew that long before the ten strokes were finished I would be screaming and begging him to stop. Hence the gag. Wasn’t I a smart girl to insist upon that gag?

And there was my diabolical added touch: the noose. It would be bad to have to endure the whip, a great deal of pain and a tremendously intense helpless feeling. But if I jerked too hard or lost my balance, I would be hanging by my neck, totally unable to do a thing about it. Lord, that was an exciting idea when I first came up with it! But as I stood there, the rope tight around my neck, helpless and about to endure terrible pain, it had seemed more of a foolish idea than a grand one. Yet the excitement I felt within was incredible. It was as if I were intensely alive, every sensation vivid and colorful. The feeling of the ropes cutting into my flesh, the swaying of my body as I tried to hold still on the chair, the beating of my heart, and the heat between my legs, were all deliciously potent feelings. I was both extremely frightened and incredibly excited.

I’m not stupid. Tom had his instructions. If I hung and could not get my feet back on the chair for more than five seconds, he would move the chair so I could. If I knocked the chair over, he would immediately retrieve it. And if something should go wrong, he had a sharp knife with which to cut the rope. I wanted to experience extreme emotions of fear and pain and helplessness, but not to die.

Tom, for his part, was reluctant to do as I bid, but he came around. After he realized that we could do it safely, he became very interested. He had given me many spankings, often as hard as his male hand could deliver, and enjoyed my squeals and struggles as the pain brought tears to my eyes. The idea of whipping my bottom, actually whipping it with a real whip designed to inflict maximum pain, was turning him on, too. So I had my willing associate.

And what had I looked like in the few seconds after that first blow? I could see myself, feet slipping off the chair as my body jerked hard in response to the sudden burst of pain. Then the surprised look on my face as the thick rope tightened around my neck, cutting off the air. I had just let out with a cry as my weight pulled upon the rope, so my lungs were not full. Immediately I was gasping for air but got none. It was surprising how painful that rope around the neck was. I’m sure that my efforts to get my feet back under me were frantic.

I hoped that Tom enjoyed the little show.

Then I heard myself whining at the thought that this was only the first stroke, only the introduction to coming pain. The thought flashed through my brain that maybe I should try to tell him it was all a mistake and he should let me down. Then came the second lash of that whip and I cried out loudly, almost a scream. But fortunately the ball gag muffled its intensity. Yet I had not expected that stroke, and again my body instinctually jerked. Then I was again choking as I partly hung by the neck. My feet sought and found the chair and again I gasped as I sucked in a lungful of fresh air.

Tom was behind me, so I couldn’t see his reactions. I could only hope that he was being vigilant. I had told him to space the strokes out so I could enjoy the fearful anticipation of each new one. So it would be a while before the third was to come. Meantime I had to wonder about my poor bottom. It felt as if that whip had cut through my flesh and I envisioned trickles of blood creeping down my beaten ass. The frightening thought occurred that maybe this would leave scars upon my bottom that would last the rest of my life — constant reminders of my first real whipping. The idea both scared me and excited me.

I heard the swish announcing the coming of the whip and tensed for it, resolved not to jerk this time. Horrible pain exploded in my rear and again I screamed into the gag, but this time I held my position with only a sideways jerk of my shoulders. The rope around my neck tightened then loosened as I returned to the upright position. My bottom was burning something terrible and I was beginning to cry. As the whipping continued, tears flowed freely down my cheeks to wet the gag strap and then fall upon my breasts.

With the fifth stroke I lost all resolve. This had to stop; it was too terrible to endure. I tried telling him to stop, but my tongue could not move enough to form those words. And my jaw was held open by that same ball. I could make only pathetic, hurt animal sounds.

I turned my head as best I could to look over my shoulder at Tom. Through my tears I could make him out, a tall man, trim from playing tennis, and with a whip trailing from his hand to the floor. I could not really see the expression on his face, and had to wonder about his emotions. Was he enjoying this? Sexually aroused — as I was? Or was he fearful of hurting me too much and wondering whether he should stop. I whined a plea for mercy and tried to shake my head in a negative so he would understand.

My reward was to see that arm lift the whip and then swing it in an arc to impact viciously upon my poor, tortured flesh. I screamed, not a gasp or yell, but a full-throated scream. I didn’t care whether the neighbors heard anything or not. I simply had to let out that expression of the pain I was feeling. And again I was unable to keep my position on the chair. It is almost impossible to keep your body still when pain is exploding inside you. My feet slipped as my body tried to curl up into a ball, and I was again hanging in mid-air. I sought to push my bound feet backward onto the chair, but missed. Desperately I tried again, only to find that my feet were hitting the edge of the chair instead of going on top the seat. I lifted my legs and tried again. This time my bare feet found the wooden seat and I could ease the strain off my neck.

I was gasping as I stood there. Apparently, the rational part of my brain informed me, the rope had stretched when taking my full weight on it. So when I hung there, my feet were lower than the seat.

Please, I pleaded with Tom, please stop this! I’ll die! My bottom will be cut to ribbons. Oh, please stop!

Of course the words never formed. My sounds were pitiful in more ways than one, but definitely not intelligible. Still, he had to know what I was trying to communicate. He had to!

Then I remembered myself briefing him just before I took my clothes off. Under no circumstance will you fail to deliver the full ten strokes to my bottom, I told him. No matter how much I plead or seem to be distressed, you will complete the whipping. If you don’t, I told him as seriously as I could, you will never get me to bed again.

What could he do? Faced with the loss of his favorite “piece of ass” (as he sometimes referred to my sexual favors), he could only comply. Besides, I think he enjoyed the idea. Of course, he was not the one with the burning ass and wallowing in more pain than I ever thought possible.

As the sixth stroke lit up the nerve switchboards in my brain, a wild idea overtook my rational part. If I were unable to get my feet back on the chair, he would have to cut me down! Without bothering to analyze the wisdom of that idea, I kicked backwards and was rewarded with the sound of a chair hitting the floor.

Suddenly I realized what I had done and was more scared than I had ever been in my life. There was no chair to reach for, nothing but thin air for my kicking legs to find. The crushing pressure on my throat was terrible, as was the inability to suck in air. I remember kicking my legs, although why I don’t know. And struggling against the rope around my arms and legs. It as a wild, illogical fight against the white cotton clothesline binding me, but still I struggled as hard as I could.

As the long seconds dragged on, I became aware of a roaring in my ears, and a pressure behind my eyes as if they were trying to bulge out. My face was tingling. Later I figured that was just the nerves starving for oxygen. All I could think about was that I was going to die. Right there and then, hanging naked in the attic of my house, a victim of my own stupidity.

Why the hell wasn’t I falling to the floor? Tom should have cut the rope by now, the thought rushed through my mind. Was he going to let me die…?

Then something was gripping my ankles and forcing my legs backwards. Then there was a hard surface under my bare feet and I eagerly, frantically, pushed down onto it. The rope loosened slowly, as if it did not want to release its deadly caress on my neck. But then the first fresh air rushed down my windpipe and I was incredibly grateful to Tom for saving me.

I looked down into his eyes, searching for mercy. There was none. It was not that he was mean or hard looking. In fact I could see that he understood what I was experiencing — as much as any human who was not actually having this happen to them could understand. But there was also the glow of sexual excitement and something else. What that something was, I am not exactly sure but maybe it was a little sadistic streak. Hell, a big sadistic streak. But whatever, I knew that he would not pay the slightest attention to my wordless pleas. I would have to endure the four remaining strokes. And I had the feeling that the last few would be applied with particular fierceness.

They were. And worse, they were applied over flesh made sensitive and sore by the previous slashes. I had all I could do to keep from falling off the chair again. But when the tenth stroke had been delivered and the pain began fading from the mind-numbing intensity to merely terrible, I felt a wonderful sense of relief. I had survived! The damage to my poor bottom remained to be seen, but there would be no more horrible pain explosions, nor any more of that frightening hanging by the neck.

Wrong!

Tom came around in front of me. For a minute he only looked upon my naked and trussed up body. His eyes were glowing with sexual excitement and much more intense emotion, and I could see a huge bulge in his pants and knew that he was as excited as I.

Oh, yes, it was true. I was one turned-on chick. There was a heat between my legs to match the one on my bottom. I wanted his arms around me and his huge penis inside me, pumping away so wonderfully strongly.

Then he did something that astonished me. And frightened me incredibly. He kicked the chair out from under me!

I fell a couple inches and felt a horrible jerk as the rope tightened around my neck. I looked to Tom. Was this joke? It had to be. He would let me hang for a few seconds then let me down. It would be no worse than the hanging I had already done and survived. Sure, that was it. He just was teasing me. A horrible way to do it, I thought, but still only teasing.

As I watched, he unzipped his pants and let loose that monster he keep hidden there. It sprang to full attention, larger and firmer than I had ever seen it before. An ache of passion overtook me at the sight of that. But what was he going to do? Screw me as I hung there? Then I remembered that my legs were tied together, so he couldn’t do that. And, besides, I was hanging too high up for him to reach.

As I gasped and wiggled, I could see him stroking his rod. The bastard! He was masturbating while I was horny as hell and wanting him inside me so bad that my whole body ached. And while I was being strangled before his very eyes!

Long, long seconds passed. I hung in increasing pain and fear. He continued to stroke his hand around his penis. I was getting desperate. How long does it take a girl to strangle? A minute? Two? Surely I had been hanging for at least that long already. How long would it take him to get his damned climax?

I would have whined and made other desperate noises but nothing would come out. With my neck so constricted, I couldn’t get air in or out. I pleaded with my eyes. And was ignored. Then I saw him getting glassy eyed and knew he was approaching a climax. No! I wanted to scream. Don’t make me hang her while you get your pleasure. It isn’t fair!

It felt as if my head were going to explode from the pressure inside it. My vision was being to get black at the edges and I could feel my struggles weakening. With a last burst of strength, I kicked my bound legs out, hoping to connect with him and get his attention back to my plight. But I connected only with air; he was just out of reach.

Suddenly I saw the white fluid shooting out of his penis. An incredible amount came spurting out and leaping unbelievably high into the air. In spurts I saw the life-giving substance arch through the air straight at me only to fall short to the dusty floor.

Then everything began to fade to black and the universe folded in around me. It had been so exciting when Tom had wrapped those ropes on my body. He did it tightly as I had instructed, cinching down all the main windings and knotting each section tightly three times before going on to restrict another part of me. First my wrists behind me, palms turned towards each other. Then my elbows, corded and pulled in tightly until I could feel the strain on my shoulders and my breasts stuck out proudly. Then my legs, above my knees and at the ankles.

This is an another novel from the bondagemaster – John Savage.
“Marla’s Submissive Secrets” was edited by Susan Strict and published by Strict Publishing International.