The Toy

by Claire Thompson

  Gina paled and felt herself swaying, her head light at the thought of her own blood, especially down there! Obediently she climbed from the tub and stood numbly as Frank toweled her dry. He set a fresh towel on the counter and pointed, waiting for her to hoist herself up.

  "Good. Now spread your legs. Oh stop it, I've seen you naked for hours now. Please do get over this modesty thing! It's becoming really tedious." He smacked sharply at her thighs, and Gina reluctantly spread them a few inches. Setting down the razor, Frank used his own hands to push her legs far apart. "Now. Don't you dare close them or I'll tie your legs open. Do you understand?"

  Gina had her eyes shut tight, but she kept her legs apart. First Frank used a small pair of barber's scissors, cutting away as much of the curls as he could. Gina tried to stay very still, frightened by the sharp cold blades so near her tender parts. Satisfied he had done all he could with the scissors, Frank lay them aside.

  Gina felt the soft warm oil as he squirted some on his hand and rubbed it gently across her labia. It was a peculiar sensation; a nice one even, if she could have admitted this. Having been taught that to touch yourself is a sin, Gina had never done so. The sensation he was creating was a new one. She felt an odd mix of shame and pleasure, and longed to close her legs, but she didn't dare.

  Frank was observant, and he noticed the sudden intake of breath, the small sigh that followed as he massaged her pussy lips, grazing over the clit. The virgin isn't a total lost cause, he thought gleefully. His fingers lingered longer than necessary as he watched the confusion and pleasure rushing across her open features, and her skin flushed a pleasing pink.

  Deciding she'd had enough, he stopped suddenly, and Gina's eyes flew open as she bit her bottom lip, looking away as he laughed. He didn't say anything though, and she was grateful for that. The cool metal of the blade grazed her skin, gently removing the remaining hair. He passed the razor over and over her mons until he seemed satisfied at last that she would pass Gordon's strict muster. Finally he soothed some ointment over the area to heal any possible irritation.

  "Ok, get down. It's almost time." For what she didn't know, but her heart constricted with fear at the remark. He had said she was being groomed for Gordon, for the master. The master! That made her a slave! Not just a hostage, but a slave, with the servitude and obedience that implied.

  Frank led her back to her mirrored prison. Without speaking he led her to the center of the room. He lifted her arms over her head, securing her as she had been when Gordon whipped her. Gina began to thrash in panic. "Please! I can't! Please!"

  Frank stopped her by placing his fingers gently against her mouth. "Hush, little one. No one is going to whip you. At least not at the moment." His eyes crinkled sardonically. "Just relax and take a look in the mirror." Gina, instead, looked down at the floor, the familiar feeling of shame at her nakedness flooding her anew. She didn't want to look. But Frank lifted her face, forcing her to see the image in the mirror. There she was, long dark hair curling prettily as it dried. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were dark. Her breasts looked perky and high, with her arms extended above her head. Her eyes were drawn to her bare pussy, the naked little cleft nestled between her thighs.

  With a kick at her ankles, Frank forced Gina to spread her legs. The labia were pooching now, visible without the cover of curls. Gina felt sick with embarrassment. She had never seen her own body so denuded, so truly bare. Frank was also studying her critically. "We'll get you in shape. I think we'll start today with your exercise routine. And I'll cook for you. No more midnight hot cocoa and cookies for you, my love." He laughed and Gina was flustered, wondering how he knew that was her favorite time for a snack.

  She wished she could lower her arms, cover her bare body, but of course she could not. Frank began to walk around her, so close she could smell his breath, which smelled sweet, like spearmint. "Now listen well, my pet," he murmured. "As of this moment your training truly begins. Gordon and I each have our roles as your teachers. While he is your stern taskmaster, which is a part he truly enjoys, I prefer a gentler touch. I will teach you through your body, through pleasure as well as pain."

  As he spoke, he moved very close to her, so that they were standing face to face. She was glad the image of her plump naked form was blocked by his tall lean one. Her heart was hammering in her chest, but she didn't feel the abject terror she had felt when in this position before; when Gordon was caning her virgin flesh. Frank ducked his head so that he was nuzzling her neck, planting a series of tiny kisses on her skin. It tickled slightly and Gina shifted, an odd tension in her groin.

  His head ducked further, tracing the gentle curve of her right breast, his lips moving with rapid little kisses down to her nipple. She felt an electric jolt shoot through her when his mouth reached the nipple. She felt it tighten, as if it were straining toward him. She had had this sensation before, when Dwayne was especially ardent in his kisses, but he had certainly never kissed her there!

  Gina knew she should protest; resist. But really, what was the point? How ridiculous to try to voice her fundamentalist opinions about the female body as something strictly off limits until marriage, and even then only for procreation. She had no choice now. And words might only anger her captor, making him forget kisses in favor of something far worse.

  As his mouth sought and found her second nipple, a little sigh, the tiniest of sighs, escaped Gina's lips, as her eyes fluttered closed. Her worried mind clicked off as, exhausted with the fears and tensions of these past two days, she succumbed to physical sensation at last.

  Frank felt her relax; felt the tension lessen in her body. He smiled slightly, very pleased at her reaction. Kneeling, he let his mouth trail down between her breasts, down her belly to the plump little mons, bare as a baby's. Gina's legs were still spread, and Frank placed an index finger on either outer labia, spreading her pussy slightly.

  Gina's eyes flew open and she jumped back, letting out a little scream. "Hush," Frank murmured, "hush. I won't hurt you. I know you're a virgin, Gina. I also imagine that you've never discovered your own body. Well, it's high time you did, and I'm going to help you do it. You really have no choice in the matter, Gina. No choice at all."

  No choice at all. No choice at all. It became a mantra in her head as Frank spread her lips farther. No choice in the matter as she felt his warm wet tongue dart between the folds. No choice in the matter as she felt a strange hot liquid pleasure begin to build inside of her as his tongue swirled across her little nubbin. No choice in the matter. No choice at all.

  And then even the words were obliterated, drowned out by pure sensation, pure pleasure. She didn't even flinch as he slid a finger into her pussy, which was wet and slippery now with his kisses and with her own juices. The pleasure continued to mount until Gina moaned, and then cried out, her body jerking with spasms of pleasure. Frank held each hip with his large hands, keeping her still as he continued to suckle and kiss her until she was truly spent.

  Gina sagged in her chains; she would have fallen if she hadn't been tethered there. Frank stood up, his face glistening with her juices. The room was ripe with the scent of sex. Gina's face was flushed and her neck and chest were mottled from the rush of blood throughout her body as she orgasmed.

  Frank unlocked the cuffs and supported her as Gina slid to the ground. He held her head on his lap while she recovered. The sensation was completely new to her, and she felt totally spent. When her breathing slowed and he no longer felt her heart pounding against him, he said, "That was the beginning, Gina. Just the beginning. I am going to claim you so completely you will live for my touch."

  Gina felt the gentle throb in her pussy. A quiet sense of euphoria totally overtook the usual feeling of shame and guilt when she and Dwayne exchanged stolen fumbling kisses in his car. Something had started in Gina as irresistible as the first lick of a flame around a match. Gina believed what Frank said. And she realized it wasn't a threat, but a promise.

  ***

 
; Frank left Gina sleeping, but she was instantly awake when Gordon entered, carrying a large multi-tressed whip. He didn't speak to her, but hauled her up roughly and secured her leather cuffed wrists to a chain and then to the ceiling, leaving her straining on tiptoe.

  Taking a rubber ball gag from his bag of tricks, Gordon forced Gina's mouth open and buckled it behind her head. Gina was horrified at the image of herself in the mirrors, with the bright red ball and eyes wide in fear. She couldn't make a sound, as the ball pushed her tongue back in her throat.

  Gordon came close and attached a small alligator clip to each nipple. The clips were connected by a silver chain. As the teeth bit into Gina's tender nipples, she struggled violently, a muffled cry issuing from the behind the rubber ball rammed into her mouth. She was terrified that she was being cut, unaware that the clamps would do no permanent damage. She saw the chain swaying between her breasts, the clips pressing her nipples, reddened, flat between silver teeth.

  Her head felt light and she might have fallen, but the chains that bound her kept her upright. No preamble, no explanation, and Gordon began to whip Gina's back, her ass, her thighs. His whipping was methodical and thorough. Soon every part of her back and ass was stinging, on fire. Then he moved to the front. Though not a tall man, he was very strong, and didn't seem at all exerted from the whipping, which had gone on for some minutes.

  When the lash hit the clamps on her nipples, Gina screamed in agony and swayed, leaning hard into chains, all her weight on her wrists. Her eyes rolled up and she sagged there. Gordon lowered the whip, studying her for a moment. His cock was pressing hard against his jeans, and he shifted it a little as he waited for her to come to.

  A minute or so later the poor girl opened her eyes and, focusing on Gordon with his whip, she jerked back, as if she could somehow escape. But there was no escape. He had promised he would teach her about pain, and he made good on that promise. After thoroughly whipping her front, he removed the nipple clamps. As the blood rushed back, engorging the nipples, tears of pain sprang to Gina's eyes.

  But she forgot this as he attached the wicked clips to her labia. The chain jangled and hit her thighs as she danced in pain, vainly trying to escape the whipping that continued without mercy. Finally Gordon seemed satisfied. He let Gina down, and she lay where she fell, completely immobile, as if dead.

  Gordon felt a flash of concern; had he gone too far? But as he unbuckled the ball gag and removed the clamps from her pussy, she began to cry and he knew she would be fine. It was when they turned 'zombie' that he had to worry. It wouldn't do to frighten them so badly they lost their wits. He liked his slaves alert and completely aware of what was happening to them. Still without speaking to her, Gordon kissed the top of Gina's head, and went to find Frank so he could make use of this delicious hard on.

  Chapter 3 – A Lesson in Modesty

  Gina was asleep on the mattress – there was little else to do – when the door opened and she realized with a little shock that she actually wanted to see Frank. It was certainly better than being alone, she told herself as an excuse. She had come to realize that Gordon must work during the day, because she saw him only after her third meal. She measured time by her meals, having no watch or clock to rely upon, and no window. Frank was her daily and constant companion, and as odd it seemed, she almost regarded him as a friend.

  But it wasn't Frank. It was Gordon. And he was carrying a large bag which Gina was sure had horrible things in it. She sat up, instantly terrified. Gordon said, "Good afternoon, cunt. How are you?" Gina remembered her lessons as fear spurred her tongue.

  "Good afternoon, master. I am your," she pause imperceptibly but forced herself to go on, "slave cunt." Gordon's mouth twisted slightly in an approximation of a smile.

  "That you are, Gina. Good that you are starting to realize it. First of all, let's inspect Frank's handiwork today. Roll over on your back, arms behind your head, and legs spread." Reluctantly, but with the sharp memory of his cane fresh in her mind, Gina did as she was told. Gordon's eyes raked her form and his gaze was like heat running up and down her naked, bare body. Leaning toward her, he stroked her soft smooth skin, his fingers moving from her legs slowly up to her bare and spread pussy. Gina couldn't help but squeeze her eyes shut, but somehow she remained still. Fear of his wrath outweighed any modesty. After some moments, Gordon stood. He seemed satisfied, if no comment meant satisfaction.

  Finally he said. "Ok, cunt girl. You can close your legs now. I've seen enough." Gratefully Gina did so, also wrapping her arms around her torso in a protective gesture. Gordon ignored her. "Today I have devised a few tests for our mutual pleasure. Well, for my pleasure anyway. Frank and I have observed that you are excessively shy, modest to the point of absurdity. He likes to coax, but I prefer a more direct method. I am going to help you overcome your modesty. I will help you realize that your modesty is an affront to me; a personal affront. A good slave is completely immodest. That doesn't mean promiscuous; it means that you are completely open to your master on every level. It means that nothing, no matter how others might think it debases or humiliates you, is to be resisted if your master wants it done.

  "Now," he went on calmly, enjoying the look of terror on her face, the fear in her round, dark eyes, "you seem to be excessively prudish, even for a virgin, and I imagine you are also very, shall we say, private, about your bodily functions. That won't do at all. When I'm done with you, you'll be able to piss in front of me, to move your bowels, to make yourself orgasm in whatever position I have you in and whenever I demand it, to lick me clean from head to toe, to swallow my semen and my urine, if that's what I want–"

  Gordon broke off suddenly, realizing that the poor stupid cow had actually fainted again! He did seem to have that effect on the woman! It was getting tedious. However, Gordon was nothing if not prepared. He took a pitcher of ice water he had brought in with him and dumped it unceremoniously over Gina's face and chest.

  Gina sputtered and shrieked, consciousness quickly regained. "Don't do that again," Gordon warned, as if she could control the waves of horror that had made her so dizzy she passed out. "Next time I'll bring you to with this." He withdrew a long-handled switchblade from his back pocket and Gina felt her breath catch in her throat. As he flicked the blade open, she gasped in fear. Again she felt the now familiar heaviness in her head, the dizziness and nausea, the slight ringing in her ears, and knew she could faint again, easily. But he had said she could control it, and she must.

  She did. The dizziness receded as she focused on his shoes, which were rich chocolate brown leather boots, the outline of which she could see under his pants. "Better," he said as he walked around behind her. He went over to the pile of things he had brought in with him and after a moment said, "Stand up." She did so. "Assume the position." She stood as he had instructed her earlier, with fingers laced behind her head, and legs spread smartly apart, like a soldier at ease.

  "Here, drink this." She wasn't sure if she was supposed to move from 'the position' but he seemed to want her to take it so she reached out for the glass. Snatching it out of her reach, Gordon pursed his lips and said, "That was a test. You failed. I will remember your failure and punish you for it, rest assured. Next time, ask first. You will say, 'Please sir, may I move out of position?'"

  Gina colored, angry that he had baited her this way, but of course not daring to voice it. Instead, she nodded and whispered, "I'm sorry, sir," and then, "Please, sir, may I move out of position?" He nodded, and Gina reached a trembling hand out for the offered glass.

  It was bubbly and smelled like alcohol, something she never drank. "It's champagne. It'll help you for a task I have in mind later. Drink it. It won't send you to hell, I promise." Stung by his slur, she tasted it. It really was quite good! It was dry and wet all at once, and fizzy and sweet, but tart. Hard to describe but very good. She sipped again. Before she realized it, the glass was empty.

  "More?" asked her host, if you could call him that. Gina held out her g
lass as a silent yes and he filled it, smiling with amusement. Gina drained it quickly and suddenly felt the oddest sensation in her head. She was dizzy again! Not the sick, nauseated dizzy she felt when fear had made her faint, but a different kind of silly dizzy! Unconsciously she smiled, which changed her face from merely pretty to actually beautiful. Her grandmother used to say that when Gina smiled it was like an angel jumped inside her for a minute. She fairly sparkled.

  Even though his sexual tastes leaned quite the other way, Gordon could appreciate her beauty, and did so, really for the first time. Up until now he hadn't seen past the plump body, the dark thick tangle of hair, the very 'femaleness' of her which held no allure for him at all. But now he saw something which ignited something physical in him, something almost sexual. He wanted to see her smile again.

  "Did you like that, Gina? That's a really fine champagne. I only drink the best. Have you ever had champagne before?"

  "No, sir," Gina answered, sitting down suddenly without permission. "I've never had any alcohol at all, sir. My parents didn't think I should drink till I got married, and then maybe some wine on our anniversary, like they do."

  Gordon let it pass that she was now sitting, legs tucked under her, without permission. He realized she was drunk and was actually charmed by her total innocence. "Would you like some more?"

  "Please." She smiled again, more a grin than a smile, but she still looked beatific. He poured and watched her drink again. Realizing she'd be good for nothing if he gave her any more, he put the bottle down. He ordered her to get up, which Gina did, stumbling a little as the alcohol upset her equilibrium.

  "Now," Gordon spoke briskly as he brought over a large metal bowl, "lesson number one in modesty. I want you to squat over this bowl and urinate into it." Gina looked up at him, confused. She knew she must be drunk, but found the feeling quite pleasant. The wild edge of terror that had pressed in on her since her abduction was somehow blunted by the champagne. She tried to focus on Gordon. Surely she had misunderstood him.