First Night Sally heard her owner turn the heavy lock in the door behind her as she stepped naked into the small room. She looked around, still with her back to the door, as if to walk in further were to acknowledge that she had become an owned thing and this was her place. A tiny bed for one person, covered in a cream silk sheet... a bare wooden chair... a small chest of drawers, wardrobe, and the door to the bathroom she had used before, her owner had made her squat on the stool with the door open, watching her pee and wipe herself. There was a bath there, a collection of towels, assorted bathroom bric-a-brac. She decided she needed that bath. The feel of sex was still between her legs - her owner had not allowed her to wipe herself after he had penetrated her and apart from the cold clinical shower at the slave pens this morning, she had not touched water for days. But the chest, three drawers, called her as she passed by it and with a sigh, she turned to it and squatting down, inspected it. Her hand trembled a little on the top drawer; she pulled it open, carefully, as if it might explode in her face but she saw it was filled with odds and ends of cosmetics, perfumes, makeup accessories. Some were brand new, some had been half-used, mostly the same brands. She smiled at the thought of her owner engrossed with the calling Avon lady, picking out this and that from the catalogue and then her face darkened a little as she wondered who the woman before her had been. The previous slave. No nice expensive taste, she saw, a little regretfully. Had that been her choice, or their owners'? She found a bottle of skin lotion nearly full that she would have not even noticed when shopping and put it on the top of the dresser. Next drawer... she gasped, a short sharp intake of breath as she saw what she'd been dreading: neatly arranged (unlike the cosmetics in the drawer above) a line of riding crops, canes, paddles. In the corner, a pile of chains and... yes... some leather straps for her wrists and ankles and waist, she supposed. She shut the drawer carefully, and bent to open the bottom one. Three collars arranged neatly on small blue velvet cushions: one silver, one dull grey metal, and one black leather. All were open at the back and had a small ring at the front. She had seen some of the girls at the auction fitted with collars like these, no doubt to entice the clients. A small box. Her inquisitive fingers now had a life of their own as they opened it despite her mind screaming to leave it alone. Inside, three golden ear-rings. Three? The colour sprang into her face as she quickly closed the box and replaced it. She slid the drawer shut with a beating heart and was about to continue to the bathroom when she noticed the wardrobe. Knowing she'd not be able to relax until she had seen, she gently opened the door, as if opening the door of her house to a stranger... disappointingly, the wardrobe was bare. She remembered her owner telling her that she would be kept naked at all times. 'I love clothes so!' she had sighed and he had looked at her with that funny half-amused expression on his face as he told her that maybe one day he would allow her out and then she could wear something suitable. The bare wardrobe summarised her existence. She closed the door, firmly. The warm water was luxury... she moved herself in the bubbly bath with a sinful sense of pleasure (slaves can take pleasure too, she thought, especially those newly arrived at the state.) Her hair was well washed and she had done it up in a towel to dry... she laid a face cloth over her breasts for comfort and swished the water around her. If only the nightmare would go away, she thought, stroking her wedding ring with her thumb... and she would wake up in their nice home which they had worked so hard to get just so; next to her husband with whom she had lived and to whom she had made love for over 12 years; listening to her little girls playing next door or any minute bursting into their room with a cry of 'Mummy!' Once she stopped swirling the water the house was silent. Not a sound. She got out of the bath, dripping water and suds, and began to towel herself... a wicked thought passed through her mind.... there were enough towels here... one round her waist, like so.... another under her armpits.... she rubbed her body with them... No, she found herself thinking. This man wants me naked and that's what he'll have. I've never been bad at anything so far, and I'm not going to start being a bad slave. Rinsing out the bath; folding the towels neatly on the rail; sitting on the chair, rubbing the body lotion into her: her neck, breasts (the auctioneer had called them 'droopy' but they'd always been a bit like that - fitting a C cup bra more than adequately) Her treacherous little nipples were beginning to rise a little again and she glared at them. 'You've got me into enough trouble today already' she said to them. 'Stop it immediately!' Perhaps it was the cold air after the bathroom.... her tummy... firm, waistline thicker than once before - if only her owner had seen her in her prime, she thought wistfully, remembering the touches men would give her waistline and hips; she, made up to kill at a dance or standing next to someone who would feel bold enough to put his arm a little proprietorially round her waist at a party. Her owner had seen her in the pens, beckoned her to the barrier with a toss of his head, and his first touch had been to hold her roughly by the breast as he enquired the price of this one. Her hands had been tied cross-wise in front of her, so that anybody would see her wedding ring above her shaved pubis (some bastard had taken her lovely diamond early on in the process of making her into a piece of saleable meat... she clenched her fingers as she tried to stop thinking about that and recalled the scene at the auction, thronged with men out to buy, the screams of girls in pens and cages... raised voices at biddings... the patter of auctioneers' voices..) Of all the men who had seen and inspected her that afternoon, he was by far the oldest... distinguished grey hair... a tanned, almost boyish face... strong hands that passed over her body expertly... asking had she been shaved specially. 'No sir... we think she's a bit of a sex maniac sir... came like that...' she blushed as she remembered the little secret of her shaved pubis that she had shared with a few boyfriends, and then the delighted man who was to become her husband - she stepping shyly out of her voluminous french knickers one evening, watching him watching her, knowing the effect she was going to have... 'thought she looked younger when we kidnapped her, honestly... asking price for her is $2,000....' the brunette, hardly 19 years old in the next pen, with a lovely streamlined silky body, sobbing madly, was at least twice the price. The man seemed to loose interest in her and became engrossed in watching the young girl. Sally's heart began to sink. 'Want the old bitch or not, sir?' '$1,500' 'Naww.. If we don't sell her today, she's dog meat.' 'You won't get $1,500 for dog meat, young man!' 'We will when we sell tickets at $100 a seat. What the hell, nobody's interested in this old cow.' 'I am. Don't con a con man.' Horrified, she watched the man turn back to cast another appraising eye over her naked body and then start to haggle over her with the auctioneer, finally settling for $1,800 paid note by note in cash into the other's hand. And then she had become a purchased thing as the auctioneer stowed the money away in his jeans and the man who had become her owner turned to her, familiarly already, holding her by the upper arm. 'You don't need me to put a collar on you, do you?' he asked as he led her out of the horrible factory-like building. She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. 'Worth double the price' he drew his head near to her and whispered into her ear. Her eyes misted with tears 'thank you, sir' she had stammered. Now, the sheet of the bed was light over her body, the room was warm and she had found the lights to switch them to darkness, but Sally had never been used to sleeping so lightly covered. I suppose the way the silk folds over makes me look sexy for him, should he come to visit in the night, she thought, shifting her legs in the bed and wrapping the sheet around her a little more firmly for comfort. Please God let me get to sleep. As part of her upbringing, Sally had learnt to keep her emotions at bay and how not to dwell on things that were painful and threatened to disrupt her polished equilibrium. When younger, polish is harder to control but practice improves the art. Yet as she drifted into sleep, all the thoughts that she had been trying not to have started to run through her mind like a pack of baying hounds, who sense they have finally caught the scent and will no longer be denied.. Tom, her owner... a handsome man, was not her husband whom she had loved desparately, even when they had been at cross-purposes and who had first kissed her in the back of the taxi coming back from a ball. Would she really never see him again? Her owner had said he'd send a message to tell him she'd been sold as a slave and was well treated. As if that would console him! She groaned as she thought of his agony on hearing news like that.... better if he thought she had simply vanished into thin air, no? Spent some time mourning her and then becoming indifferent to the memory of a woman who had become indifferent to him? 'People do that sometimes sir... go without warning.' 'But we were always happy together!' 'That's what they always say, them who's been left.' She thought of her girls... surely, a derelict mother was preferable to one who had been disgraced by becoming a slave? Perhaps she should have just gone away one day, before the two men had fallen in with her, one on either side, and had deftly and adroitly maneouvered her into a large waiting car... the audacity of it still took her breath away... on a crowded street, at lunchtime! She should have screamed, shouted, kicked.... instead, she had been handled expertly and was sinking into the large leather seat as the car accelerated away before she even knew it. Think good things, she told herself. He's attentive, he's already had sex with me twice and he gave me food when I said I was hungry. A bit on the rough side... she thought of the crops in the second drawer and hoped against hope that her delicate skin was not going to feel them... what had he said? 'Punishment would not happen today' that meant... she shivered... never had she swallowed a man's cum and yet, the first time he took her, ramming his cock into her mouth, she had swallowed it as calmly and effortlessly as if this was natural. Punishment maybe tomorrow then. He had told her rules and how to behave until her head was spinning with them... think 'slave', it all boiled down to. Grateful for small mercies. The phrase loosed a flood of tears as she made a random connection to her work one afternoon: her boss, standing with one arm on the filing cabinet, laughing with an amused office at the antics of one of their clients... she suddenly realised that her management skills, her knowledge of the money world, her ability to charm, to fix deals, to negotiate, to walk into a meeting room of strangers and to make her presence felt as a representative of a large and powerful corporation... all these had suddenly been locked away with the simple turning of a key. No better than dog meat, she thought, at $100 a seat for the show.... sobbing hard into the pillow. And Tom had paid a paltry sum of money for her and had considered himself lucky to have got her... and what commodity did she supply? A receptacle for sex. A thing to be played with... beaten and punished at her master's whim. Pierced and collared. To leave behind a drawer full of half-used cheap cosmetics. The black dogs that had been chasing her all day finally caught up with her. She turned round at the last minute to face them as they flung themselves snarling at her, leaping for her breasts, her throat... and suddenly, without realising how, Sally passed into the state of sleep... the sleep of a purchased female slave. Sally4Sale, for Tom (4/11/2004)
First Night - Sally finds a deal Sally padded barefoot around the unfamiliar kitchen feeling each movement of the apron ties behind her tickling the little hollow of her smooth back where the crease of her rounded bottom began. She knew his eyes were devouring her from where he sat behind the large oak table dressed in his smart blue denims... the kitchen had been used exclusively by a man for many years it would seem. He had first made her dip her breast in the cold orange juice and had licked it off her, she recalled with half a smile, before suggesting she might be more comfortable cooking in an apron. To serve a man! She placed his plate of fried meat in front of him with a small curtsey and then brought her own smaller plate of toast. He was looking at her again with that small frown - she quickly pulled the apron off, blushing a little as she sat opposite him on the heavy table. They ate in silence, Sally watching him as he attacked his food with the same kind of zest with which he handled her. He had woken her this morning, although she had heard him outside the door and was already sitting up in the bed, her sheet pressed against her when he entered. He had jerked his head upwards a little, and she blushed as she pulled back the sheet, exposing her breasts and shaved pubis to him. He was completely naked she realised with a start. As she showed herself she met his eyes, now crinkled in smiles and her gaze wandered down his body with an effort. His torso was lighter in colour than his head, with light hairs all over it, more intense around his chest and belly, and the top of his cock. She had not seen many naked men in her life, certainly none who paraded themselves as un-self-consciously as her owner. Girls of her vintage had been brought up to be modest and to ignore things politely by not looking at what was private. He told her briefly, by way of greeting, to get up and kneel by the side of the bed, mouth open; no, hands by her sides as he fed his now erect cock into her. Her lips closed over his shaft, and she felt the pressure of his hand behind her head, pushing her onto him, almost gagging as he reached the back of her throat. To her horror, she found herself beginning to stir up inside as she smelt his maleness and her nose brushed against his public hair. Look at me, he told her. Watch my eyes as I fuck your mouth, little fucktoy. His cock began to swell quickly and his eyes closed to little slits as she suddenly felt him burst into her, flooding her mouth and throat with his musky cum. Her throat worked as she swallowed and sucked, she felt her pussy tingle but she realised by then he was already shrinking inside her... she pushed forward to catch every last drop as he looked down at her, nodding. Good girl.... he crooned... take it all, Sally... well done... the very sound of his voice was exciting. Please, she thought to herself, I do, I do... "Come on - time for a shower" reaching for her hand. She obediently rose to her feet again and let herself be led by him like a young girl, into the large and bright bathroom down the hall (his back was also covered in hair, she noticed, and the backs of his thighs in little curly ringlets!) She felt his hands slide over her soapy body, playing with her breasts and tummy, delighted with her - a new toy. His hands were slippery over her wet skin, massaging the soap into her breasts, under them, around the sides, under her armpits, her navel; her bottom (she bent over for him, legs apart, shameless!) he lathered and rinsed her bottom under the cascading water and pushed the soap gently just inside her shaven pussy. And then he washed her hair, as her glowing bottom rested lightly against his thighs, rubbing her scalp more thoroughly than a professional would, rinsing and wringing it of shampoo. The last person who had taken so much care over her had been her mother but the state of sexual tension he had now aroused in her she had never before experienced. Then it was her turn. She washed him carefully, down his chest, his belly, his thighs. Crouched at his feet, washing his legs carefully, he had announced that he needed to pee. She looked up at him, puzzled by his request for a moment until she realised.... and he saw her face colour. "No, really" he smiled down at her. "I just did an excellent job of washing you! Is that what you really thought?" "I don't know Tom.... I just want to be... an excellent slave, that's all... I don't know all that much about these things..." "Good, be thorough my little love slave." She lifted his foot gently to wash the sole, averting her gaze from him, transmuting the sexual desire into a deeper longing for servitude. When their bodies were both dry and he had brushed her hair (gently, carefully!) he had patted her bottom affectionately and told her to go and cook breakfast while he dressed for the day. "Tom?" she spoke gently. His face lifted with a quizzical smile. Her heart began to beat faster as she took a deep breath... "This kitchen.... it feels like only a man has been in it for quite a while... and yet, in the top drawer, there were all sorts of cosmetics and things, some of them half used... was there a Sally number one some time ago?" "Some slaves came with more baggage than you. And I once had a wife." "Oh" she coloured and bent down to the crumbs of toast on her plate, picking them with her finger. "Sorry." "For what?" "Your... wife... I can't imagine you being cruel to anyone!" "She died" - his voice hardened a little and she had a moment of panic as she wondered if she had pushed too far, too quickly but he was already lost in his small story. Everyone carries a little tale inside them, at the kernel of their being, like a sad little pebble - was this his? "Suddenly. Without any thing on my part, and I mourned her. And as for my slaves - I often... I just tired of them and re-sold them." "Ah... there's a re-sale value?" "If used gently. Some - well they really didnt have much re-sale value." Sally got up quietly, beginning to clear the breakfast things, although her hands were shaking a little. She remembered the whips and crops in the second drawer. "Didn't they? Poor girls." "No, not really. They can always be used for sport." She sensed he was playing with her as she bent over to stack the dishwasher, perhaps in revenge for pushing him to disclose too much to her before. "Sport?" she asked breathlessly; she felt as if he had kicked her in the stomach. "Yes. Some men buy them to hunt them. They turn them lose, and they have until dark. If the woman is still alive, they give her enough money to live comfortably." "I see..." she whispered as she tidied the table, bending over so her breasts bounced a little as she wiped the surface, thinking of the young teenage girl at the auction yesterday. As she might be in a few weeks, body marked and disfigured too far for repair, blundering through cold wet woods, her nemesis somewhere behind her. "From what I understand there are a few sadists in the hunt club. They purposedly wound the woman, torture her, but for most - its a single bullet, a single arrow. And I don't even know if the rumors about cannibalism are true." "I don't think a lifetime in finance is going to be much help to me turned loose like that." He pulled her over to him and sat her on his lap, facing her, legs straddled on either side of him so her sex was wide open to him. He lifted her chin. "Are you frightened?" "Yy... yes, I am" she whispered "I want to be the best, you know? I've always been the best." "Good. Do you want to know more?" Sally gulped "Yes please... I hate uncertainty!" He smiled a little wickedly, still playing his game with her "You mean the best even if you're hunted, or the best slave I've ever had, hmm?" "The best slave, Tom..." "What do you want to know?" "So... that's... one ending, is it? Sorry, Tom, I'm used to knowing the ground before I go into negotiation... cannibalism.... my god..." "Ah - but you are my slave - there is no negotiation. I own you -" She suddenly remembered how Alex, her mentor, had laughed at her innocence when the 'First Circle' deal had suddenly gone down, leaving them and their company shirtless. "Yes, but two intelligent parties... they have to make an arrangement of some sort" she gasped. "-and why I doubt that will be your end. You are a very good slave you know. You've pleased me in every way I've asked you without hesitation or demur.'" "Sure... but one has to know the range of outcomes... sorry, Tom... this is all so new... this is a new system for me, with different rules... and the best outcome?" "You will live by my side - always." "Ahh..." Click. As Alex would have said: first base. She looked into his eyes: the game had finished. She put her arms around his neck, feeling her breasts lift and spoke to him softly "I could become.... very faithful to you you know." "I could give you freedom- it's seldom done - but it can be!" "Freedom?" "You better be faithful to me." "Yes... I meant... in my heart." "I think if I have been right about you, I would much rather set you free than sell you to be killed." She suddenly realised that all her life so far, all her expensive clothes, her house, the dinner parties in candle-light, her travels to cities like Rome, Paris, Sidney... the plush hotels, the taxis... all this was a background to what she had now become. She could no more go back to any of that than she could run on water or fly by flapping her bare arms. It was not that she had been taken, but it was the way she had relished the taking of her. That would ever be the little stone in her heart, no matter what happy ending she or anyone else could contrive. Her head swam. "Tom.... don't contact my family" she whispered bending to his ear. "Fine - I will within boundaries accept your wishes." He felt her moving a little under her and her bare legs brushed his jeans. "Thank you. You see? Negotiation is mutually beneficial, always. I just feel so ashamed I've become a slave... and then... it's as if...this is something my life has always led me to." "I'll always try to listen to you - it doesn't mean I will do what you say, but you deserve a hearing at least." She touched her forehead against his. A moment of complete calm in which he stroked her bare sides, down to her thighs, up around her tummy and breasts. "Sit on the table in front of me..." He had first aroused her again with his tongue, then made her squat on him as he lay on the kitchen floor... they made love, at first a little seriously, (she gasped as she had pushed down on his cock) then warming up to laughing and giggling, rolling around, she with her bare legs and arms wrapped round him, he with his jeans pulled down to his knees, she watching his eyes as she felt him pump himself inside her and kissing him gently on the cheek afterwards to take away the emptyness she knew men dread at the end of an orgasm. "Tom, dearest Tom..." He led her back to her room by the hand, and arranged her flat on her back on the bed, draping the silk sheet over her up to her armpits. "This is how I want you arranged" he told her. "Keep your arms out and to your sides." She followed him with her eyes as he looked back and smiled. "For now..." he said, and left, locking the solid door behind him. Sally lay on her back for a while, feeling like the toy that had been put away. She looked up at the bare ceiling, and took stock again. She realised that she now had the luxury of time for it: possibly too much. Yes, he had been kind to her but she was at his mercy. Her imprisonment, however loose it seemed, was absolute; she was locked into a system that she was only beginning to comprehend and her own mind was one of the foces destined to keep her there. She had, of course been taken off-guard and twice at that: firstly into assuming the role of the caring housewife(it was frightening how easily) and then into the negotiator, taking stock of a bad hand. Neither had been successful, whereas standing over Tom with her pussy leaking their love juices, looking down on his ecstatic face had been the role required and the one which had gained his approval. Her fists clenched in anger as she struggled with his arrogance: "rather set you free than sell you!" Alex's friendly owlish face peered into her imagination again for a moment. "This one takes the slow drip treatment, I think" he had said said about another situation a million years ago. She rose, feeling the silk slide off her breasts, down her thighs and onto the floor, and headed for the bath. For Tom from Sally4sale 7/10/2004
Afterwards, Sally could have held her face in her hands and wept for a lifetime. The pattern of the evening was to be repeated many times she realised even then: her life as a slave would unfold in bleak monotony punctuated by moments of madness and terror. She had been tired enough by the events of the afternoon to have fallen into a light sleep, flat on her back on the bed, the silk sheet covering her torso: to be woken by the sounds of the quietly opening door. He entered; locked the door behind him. "Still keeping you on a short leash" he remarked, "get up." Sally rose from the bed, the silk sheet slipping off her body, and stood naked in front of her owner, arms obediently at her side, head cast down a little. "Look up at me. I'm glad you're loosing that ridiculous sense of modesty. Have you been playing with yourself? Part your legs so I can see." Sally quickly parted her legs for him, raising her eyes to his face. Not often friendly when he first came into her room. His eyes had a hard glint in them which always made her feel more naked than she already was. "I've been asleep... Tom. I didn't er... touch myself." She gave a small smile, encouraging him. No. She felt his finger at her pubis, hard and dry. It wriggled between her lips, and pushed inside her. Her eyes grew wide and her heart began to beat faster not so much because of the pain he caused her, but because of the way he was looking at her. One hand in her pussy, he pushed her back, till the backs of her knees were resting against the bed, all the while undoing his broad leather belt with the other hand. Her eyes flicked uneasily between the belt and his face. No clue... was he going to... "Get up on the bed on your knees, grab the pillow with your hands and keep your ass raised high." Her heart beat faster as she saw him switching the doubled belt in his right hand. She quickly climbed up on the bed and bent over, her bottom raised high in the air, feeling slightly foolish... she kept her legs tightly together and hugged the pillow tightly. Crack! The first blow on her backside had a kind of abstract quality about it... she felt neither pain nor pleasure the moment after it happened. Only as she let go of the breath she didn't realise she'd been holding did she begin to feel the sting of it flooding over her. He had hit her full force on both her raised cheeks. Awwww.... she moaned gently thinking, god this is all right, I think I can stand this, I thought it'd be much.... Crack! The next blow landed at the moment she had relaxed her bottom and this time the pain was immediate, like a large burn. She cried out, louder this time, and she heard him grunt. "Going soft to start with honey." Crack! Sally gripped the pillow more tightly.... no.... this was getting worse. She felt herself quivering, her bottom rising and falling... she felt him hold her side just above the hip in his hard grasp and she flinched. "Keep the ass high." Not more! Quivering, trembling, she kept her bottom up high as she could. He beat her with his belt, covering her cheeks and the top of her legs with burning, hot sensation as if he was scalding her with water. She moaned and twisted, marveling how her body stood the pain of it, her face wet in the pillow. There was a pause, a silence, during which the pain somehow absented itself. She felt his hand over her cheeks, cool... searching out her pussy. "You never been beaten on your ass, Sally?" His fingers had found her pussy and were delving into it. She blushed. For some reason, she had got wet during the beating. "N...no, never, Tom." "Not even by your daddy?" "God forbid!" "And you know you've got wet, don't you? Don't be afraid... that often happens when a girl gets a light beating." The words 'light beating' chilled her (you knew it was too easy, she chided herself) and being referred to at her age as 'girl' was... her position left her in no state to protest. As time went by, she realised that she was the kind of woman who does get sexually roused by being beaten. Tom had taught her that by starting her gently. Later, the ferocity of his attack on her would leave marks that sometimes wept blood; always made her wet. "No, don't move. You ever played with a dildo before?" She buried her face in the damp pillow and mumbled "Once or twice... for fun really..." "What? Speak up, girl!" "Once or twice. Just for fun." "Better get used to it... for more fun..." She heard him bring the dildo out of his pocket, and then the buzzing and then the tip of it was pressing between her pussy lips.... it got bigger as he pressed it inside her. Her terror made it almost a sexless act of violence as he pushed it in deeper... well... a twinge in her clitoris... his hands seized her dangling breasts and played with her nipples, pulling them down and squeezing them between his fingers. "Horny yet?" "No..." she gasped as his fingers pressed her nipple hard. "Too bad. Try to. Here, keep this vibrator stuck up your cunt... two fingers over the base... yes.... push down a little... feel it going down you? Bit more... come on..." She obeyed, pushing a little deeper, wincing as her arm brushed her sore bottom. "That's it... keep it up..." she suddenly felt a cold jelly spread between her cheeks.... no silly, she thought, OVER the cheeks! Then as his finger found the little bud of her bottom, she gave a low moan. "Nobody fucked your ass, either, eh? WHAT did you ever do with your life, my little baby?" Ugh, as his finger pushed in. She felt her sphincter tighten around his finger as he probed inside her. He withdrew.... gasp... and then pushed it inside again, this time a lot more easily, but just as hard. "Keep your hand on the vibrator, baby" she felt his sticky hand finger her dangling breast once more, squeezing and pulling the nipple. It was hard not to get excited, and she felt the fear of what was to happen gave her a perverse sense of excitement. "Good girl.... now relax your bottom... yes, there we are..." His cock pushed lightly against her opening. Unbelievably large and blunt! She felt him pushing harder, and incredibly, found her bottom opening wider... her sphincter muscles spasmed as he pushed himself in, ever deeper, until she realised that his entire cockhead had pushed its way through inside her. She gasped. The feeling was revolting, and she would have denied all pleasure to herself, but his hand joined hers over the top of the dildo and pressed the thing deeper in. She gasped at her reaction to the constant buzzing at her clitoris. At the same time, she felt his cock push deeper into her bottom. "Tom!" she gasped. He pushed his cock deeper still, making her feel almost faint with disgust, and at the same time, the dildo also went in further. She could sense the confusion in her body. The dildo was huge and it pressed into her relentlessly with his hand over her fingers. At the same time, his cock thrust slowly into her bowels.... she felt she was going to shit, but of course, the huge cock simply pressed further. She felt the dildo hit the back of her pussy, against her cervix, with a groan, and at that moment, his cock slid all its way inside her. His balls slapped against her, and she felt his thighs against her burning backside. Leaving her to hold the dildo, he grabbed her by the hips and slowly began to push her backwards and forwards over his cock. Each movement was a nightmare, she felt she had lost all sense of control over her bowels and despite the hot tingling in her clitoris, the dildo was pulling her apart, painfully. She let it slide out a little, hoping he'd not notice as she felt him gather momentum, and then suddenly he was roaring and shoving hard inside her and she was squealing and crying as she felt him unload his cum inside her bottom. The vibrator was still buzzing between her legs. Slowly, he came out of her. She could feel her guts being pulled out from inside her body and there was the awful moment as he took the tip of his cock out of her. She lay panting heavily as he slowly extracted the dildo from her. "One night I'm going to fix it inside you all night" he murmured as he rubbed the tip of it over her breasts. Oh gawd. "Yes, Tom... anything!" "And you're going to have to learn how to use an enema and vaseline... dirty little baby." He gave her bottom a slap, perhaps meant playfully, but it stung, hard. "Owwww!" "Go to the bathroom, clean yourself up, and bring a wet cloth and do the same here." She got shakily off the bed, and not looking at Tom, walked quickly to the bathroom, aware of her bottom flaming and her asshole puckered out like a large prune. She sank down on the stool, she saw he was watching her and she tried to push whatever it was out of her, but nothing came except a long low fart. She buried her face in her hands and blushed. "Don't hide your face." Burning, she lowered her arms and let him watch her naked body as she took a wet cloth.... she pressed it against her backside, gently. It felt cool against her skin, and she pressed it gingerly against her asshole.... on my god.... she tried to hold herself in. "You okay honey?" he called, in a much softer tone "Don't worry, you'll be back to normal in a few hours." She got up off the seat, and walked back slowly to him. "I've never had sex there before" she muttered. "Sorry... didn't know what to expect." "Enjoyed it?" "I don't think so. The vibrator, that was very confusing as well. Oh." She saw his limp and dirty cock. "Oh my god, I forgot the cloth for you!" She turned and rushed back to retrieve it and moisten it with warm water and soap. She knelt in front of him and rubbed his cock gently, carefully. "Sometimes, men like you to do that with your mouth, you know." "I could imagine" she shivered and look up at him. "Including this man?" "Hmmm.... sometimes... it'll be easier when you get into the habit of washing yourself inside there, and I may decide to stretch you out more permanently. That way, it won't hurt as much when you're accepting a cock in your ass. Mmm... you're beautifully tight, I'm glad I was able to take at least one virginity from you." He was smiling. A virginity I never knew I had she thought. He pulled her up to sit by him, fondling her breasts, almost absent-mindedly. "This is going to get hard for you, you know that" he murmured. "There's just the two of us in the house these days. And I'm the only person you're going to see. You'll get to dread and love my coming to you, and when I don't come, you'll be heartbroken." He pinched her nipple and smiled a little sadly as she gave a small gasp. "Every time I come in, a little pleasure, maybe a little pain. I don't know if that's going to become a habit for you, but you'd better get used to getting ass-fucked. There are men who will want to do it to you, much more roughly than I." "You'll... give me to other men?" "Of course. We share. You have three lovely holes in your body." She blushed and swallowed the nausea that threatened to rise up inside her. "I'm a bit new to all of this... finding it hard to take, Tom." "I know." He patted her bare knee, so familiarly she almost smiled back at him for his attempt to console her. "Tomorrow, you'll get stuff for an enema, with all the instructions." He looked quizzically at her "I'm sure an educated woman like you will know what to do. And you will cook for me from time to time, not because I can't, but because that will make you feel good that you're doing something for your master. Reward for good behaviour, hmm? And of course learning to be my whore." She looked down at her knees and tried to keep her eyes dry. "You're gong to need something to keep your pussy soft and smooth as well, aren't you? Shaving stuff. You're used to looking after yourself well." "Well preserved for my age?" she smiled, a little bitterly. "Worth twice the price!" "Tom?" "Mmm?" "If you want to keep me in good condition -" "- yes? -" "- there's some body lotion I prefer, suits my skin better." He gave a soundless 'oh' "...and face cream... (she mentioned a brand) and vitamins for my nails... and -" He put his hand against her mouth "- a gag?" She fell silent and bowed her head against his hand, kissing the inside of his fingers. "Any other requests, then, Sally?" He got up off the bed and stood in front of her, legs apart, passing his belt back into his trousers. She looked up at his face. Unreadable again. "Shampoo?" she said in a small voice "and conditioner... I need this brand of conditioner for my hair? Please?" He bent over and grasped her by the nipple, pulling her to her feet by her stretched-out breast. She gasped in shock. "Of course I will. But remember, you're a slave." "Yesss..." "I can do what I like with you." He pulled her nipple, tighter. "Yesss!" He suddenly grabbed her hair and sitting down on the bed pulled her over his knee, as if she was a little girl, squeezing her arm hard tight as he slapped her already sore bottom with his bare palm. "I... own... you.." he cried, fiercely, punctuating every word with a slap. She wriggled and groaned in pain. "Yes Tom!" she shrieked. "Who... owns... you?" "You do, Tom! You DO!" His slapping stopped. "You know the way I've opened you, I'll bet I could get my whole fist into you tonight!" "WHAT???" "Shall we find out?" "Your... fist?" she said weakly. "Yes" he said, lifting it before her eyes "In your ass... or maybe up your pussy? What do you think?" "Uhh Tom... I just wanted to look nice for you!" "And you will. I will get you what I promised. But don't forget you are still only a slave." "Yes, Tom. You made me your slave." "Good, remember that." He left. The door closed, locked behind him. For days, or was it weeks, the pattern followed as he had outlined. Sometimes, he had sex with her, catching her dry and forcing her. Other times, he played with her pussy and made her cum on his hand. She learnt to give him pleasure through her mouth, her pussy, her asshole. And then there were the beatings... her bottom, the back of her legs, her tummy and even sometimes her breasts learnt the sting of his whips, belts, canes. Although, as she discovered watching him, he inflicted pain on her for her terror of it and for the way she writhed and contorted her body as he inflicted it; she believed he was more hurt than excited by the thought of her actually suffering. At first, she resisted the warm feelings he brought out in her when she saw him again and thought in the darkness of her room of the horrible things he did to her. And the awful things he told her. She had learnt to believe him, but surely... for a time, her heart was seared in anger and confusion. The thought of her husband and her children would suddenly hit her like a steel-capped boot in the stomach. She wept a lot in those days, and then would rise and wash her face in cold water, muttering to herself not to be such a silly cow, back to lie on her bed. Always rising with delight as he entered. Holding out her wrists to be bound. She learnt to wash her bottom out with the enema, and blushed when he insisted she do it in front of him. "Very nice" he commented carelessly. "You could go on display in the best whore-houses I've ever been to!" And yes, one night, he put a black leather belt around her which had a cross-strap to which were attached two large rubber penises. He did it up tightly pulling it hard round her waist and doing the cross strap up mercilessly. "Tighter?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips. "As you wish" she gasped, playing the line he had beaten into her another night. "It will do... I need hardly say, don't touch it till I come back?" Ah... that had been sheer agony. First as the straps bit into her, then, as she suddenly realised, when she needed to, she felt afraid to pass water and the dildo in her backside hurt as her bowels tried to loosen. She lay on her back on the bed, unable to sleep, soaking in sweat, fear and terror. "Occupied your mind?" he had asked the following morning. "Oh.... Tom!" Tom, I've lost everything else, she whispered to herself at nights. You're my master, please let me serve you. She sometimes said it to him as well, as he was about to release his orgasm inside her and it made him explode like a bull. She understood, intellectually, what she was going through. She had read about it: the gradual breaking down of an independent person to become a person who depended simply on another's mood and whim, however irrational or incomprehensible. What she had never understood was the sheer pleasure it brought her to be his: to pad around naked in his kitchen as he sat on his side of the table watching her: to smile at him as he came through the door of the room in which he had chosen to confine her. To thank him sincerely for inflicting terrible pain on her body. Another part of her mind was still set in the ways she had been trained. What are the strengths of your position, what are the weaknesses? Itemise them. Balance one list against the other, negotiate. Where do you see the opportunities, what are the threats? Do you hold a credible hand? Are there any weaknesses which may be turned into a strength? Are any threats really opportunities? Both her owner and she wanted in the end but one resolution, and they wanted the same one, together, but he was as mired in his past as she in hers and that prevented them from attaining it, their hearts' desire. Could she ever bring him to the point that he as much as she wanted to reach? Her only method (in the end) her unique selling point: her complete passivity?
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