The Toy

by Claire Thompson

  Gina was scared now, and she hugged herself, rocking back and forth, biting her lower lip. Gordon and Frank had never been in the room with her at the same time. She thought of them as completely separate, as two very different parts of her day, of her life. She realized she didn't want to share Frank with Gordon. She didn't want to see Frank the slave boy, with Gordon the master. And yet, at the same time, she was suddenly intrigued at the notion. What would happen? What would the interplay be? Would the focus not be so entirely on her for a change? Would she get to see them interact as slave and master? But Gina had never seen a submissive who was trying to impress his master. She was unaware that a slave is sometimes more brutal than the master would ever be.

  Frank instructed Gina to clean up the room, stacking everything neatly by the door. She did as she was ordered, sighing as she blew out the sweetly scented candles, and as she folded the soft sheets and moved the pillows. Frank had flicked the harsh fluorescent lights back on as he had left the room, the switch being located just outside of her door, and she was again in the sterile bright cage that she had barely left for the weeks she had been held captive.

  Frank returned in a few minutes with a stool, which he placed in the center of the room under the pulley and hook contraption in the ceiling, and with several feet of chain, coiled neatly on a spool. He put a small pillow on the stool and told Gina to sit down.

  Gina was passive as Frank attached her leather ankle and wrist straps, as well as a larger strap around her waist. Each strap was secured with a clip, and to these clips he attached lengths of chain. He didn't speak to her as he worked, but climbed a stepladder he had placed near her for the purpose, and secured the chains together to the pulley. When he did this, Gina lost her balance as he pulled and maneuvered the chains, forcing her back so that she was chained by her wrists, ankles and waist to the ceiling, with only her bare bottom balancing on the stool. The straps were lined with fleece, and he hadn't stretched her limbs so far that it hurt. Gina would be able to stay suspended like this for a long time, and indeed, that was the intention. Frank adjusted the pulley mechanism until her arms were stretched out above her head, and her legs were spread far apart, revealing the dark pink petals of her pussy and the little bud of her asshole.

  Gina was actually grateful for the blindfold he slipped over her eyes. She couldn't tolerate the embarrassment she still felt at seeing her naked and splayed body mirrored back to her from all angles. While she had grown used to being naked at all times, she still could not look at her own private parts without flushing with shame. The fact that she was completely shaved made it that much more humiliating for her. The silken blindfold at least spared her from having to look, though she knew her captors could look all they like, and she could not close her legs, completely immobilized as she was.

  "Frank, I'm scared." This outburst was not typical, for Gina now rarely spoke. But that kiss, it had somehow emboldened her. When he had pulled away, she had seen, just for that moment, his vulnerability, his desire for her. And so she dared to take this liberty and speak without being spoken to.

  "You should be," was all he said, and Gina began to tremble. She believed him completely.

  Satisfied at last with his arrangements, Frank left the room. He returned with Gordon, and as they entered, Gina heard Gordon say, "So she came without permission, huh? Do you remember what I did to you when that happened, Frank?" Gina didn't hear any response, but she heard Gordon's abrupt laugh as he said, "Ah! I see you do remember! Do you think this cunt can withstand what you did? She is, after all, only a woman." The word woman was spat out, like an epithet.

  "I guess we'll see what she can take, sir," Frank said quietly, his voice subdued and respectful.

  "Well, see that you whip her properly. If I think your effort is halfhearted, I'll take the job over myself." Though Gina couldn't see him, Frank's face burned with Gordon's implication that he wasn't up to the job, but he only bowed his head, saying nothing. Then Gina heard that whistling sound she had never forgotten since that first week when Gordon had caned her. Involuntarily she gave a little cry of fear. Instinctively she tried to close her legs, but the chains held her firmly in place, completely exposed.

  She cried out again, startled as she felt fingers on her thighs. They were Frank's hands, large and cool against her flesh. As he caressed her, she relaxed slightly, but adrenaline coursed through her body, making her giddy and constricting her breathing. She felt his warm breath as he leaned near her ear and whispered, "Courage, dear heart."

  Then, without warning, he struck her inner thigh with the cane. A line of pain seared her, but before she could focus on it, there was another whistle and another cut, this time to the other thigh. Gina screamed, and then her howl was cut off as a smaller hand, but still a very strong one, clamped over her mouth. Gina felt panicked, since the hand partially covered her nose as well and she couldn't breathe. She struggled and cried out under the hand, and mercifully, Gordon moved enough so that she could breathe, but he kept his hand firmly over her mouth.

  "Take it, cunt," he hissed. "And next time show some discipline over your orgasms, you whore." Again the cane, slicing her flesh from side to side until her legs felt flayed, as if they were being burned and cut all at once. It took her a moment or two to realize when it had stopped. The stinging of a thousand bees washed over her inner thighs, but Gordon had removed his hand and she gulped in the air between sobs.

  The cane was brought to her face. Between shuddering breaths she managed to kiss the offending object. "Nice," Gordon murmured, as he examined her thighs, tender and welted, a crisscross of red lines on soft white flesh. "Tell me, Frank, is the whore wet? Did she get off on it like you do?" Frank leaned forward and touched her entrance with a finger. He slid the finger up, gently, to her clit, and swirled a teasing circle for a few moments. Gina's sobbing had subsided, and now just the sound of her rapid breathing filled the air.

  As he brought his finger lower, he found to his surprise that she was wet! Was it only his hand just now that had aroused her? Was she so conditioned now by his touch that she got wet? Or could the beating have somehow transmuted into some kind of pleasure for her? He well understood the feeling; he was trained himself just this way. For Gina, these past several weeks of constant stimulation, of pain purposefully mixed with pleasure, was designed precisely to cue her body from either angle. A whipping or a kiss was to have the same effect, that of arousal, of desire, of submission and an implicit need to obey. And here she was, his little slave girl, wet from a caning that had left her marked and bruised. Frank's reverie was disturbed by Gordon who said, "Well?"

  "She is. The slut is wet." Frank grinned at Gordon, who instantly grasped the implication of the success of their training to date. Not that he had doubted it. He had trained dozens of slaves, and though there were some who never took to it, most did, eventually. Perhaps there is something in each of us that longs to submit, if the seed of it is properly nurtured.

  Gordon laughed, a low, cruel sound, and then said, "Let's leave her here for a while. Let her think on her 'sins.'" He laughed again and gestured toward the door. Frank went first, followed by Gordon, who ripped the blindfold from Gina's face as he passed.

  Left alone, Gina lay still for a long time, not even opening her eyes against the bright light. The pain on her thighs had subsided to a dull, itchy sting, and she longed to touch herself there, to sooth the tattered flesh. Her limbs had begun to ache, and her bottom was asleep. She thought about what they had said. She did feel a faint throb in her clit and deep in her pussy. What was becoming of her? A whipping made her wet? She was no better than the fallen girls in the bad part of town she used to smugly look down on while she tried to counsel them about the ways of the Lord.

  But perhaps no worse? It was a novel thought, and one Frank had been trying to teach her; there is nothing inherently wrong with sex, or your body, or desire. The overlay of torture and captivity made it confusing, but she was beginning to grasp, even to be
lieve, the underlying message of sex and sexuality as neutral or even good things, not simply tools for procreation.

  As she thought about this some more, she tried to lift her head, to see herself suspended and spread on the stool. There in front of her was a long legged woman, not quite trim, but certainly no longer plump, with her long dark hair streaming down behind her. Gina barely recognized the strong new body that was emerging from the formerly dumpy shape she was used to seeing, or more accurately, avoiding, in the mirror.

  Then she focused on her bare and spread pussy, on the labia that looked curiously like rose petals. Why had she found it so repulsive before? It was almost beautiful! It looked like a pink flower, dark against the white flesh of her thighs, matching the color of the red welts the cane had raised. She stared for a while at the crisscross of welts. She had endured a caning and felt a peculiar sense of pride.

  But she was thirsty, and her limbs ached. She wished Frank would come and release her. Finally she heard the knob turn, the key scrap, and she became alert at once, rousing herself from the half sleep into which she had fallen. Both men entered again, and Gina felt a keen dismay that Gordon was there too. They were both in bathrobes, and it looked as if they wore nothing underneath. Frank approached Gina and said, "We've decided it's time for you to become a woman, in the full sense of the word."

  Gina looked at him, a question in her eyes. Gordon elaborated. "What my boy is trying to say in his poetic way is that it's time you learned how to be fucked. The virgin has become a slut and now it's time you were shown what a cock feels like in that tight little twat of yours. You are going to be fucked."

  Gina's mouth had opened into a silent O, but no words were formed. She had been wondering when this would happen; knew it was only a matter of time and had been frankly surprised, though also relieved, that it hadn't happened sooner. But she had never thought Gordon would be witness. She had assumed, because he was gay, that he wouldn't want anything to do with it. Of course, now she realized he might want to watch, to control the proceedings since he owned both of them, in his mind.

  She didn't want him there, of course, but what choice did she have? At least they would take her down? Let her be comfortable? Frank came over to her, cradled her head in his hands and whispered, "Don't worry, I'll be right here. Just relax and it will be fine." He stayed by her head, and to Gina's horror, it was Gordon who disrobed, positioning himself between her legs.

  She stared in helpless fascination at his naked body, at his large semi-erect cock. Her heart had begun to pound and she felt panic rising in her throat like bile. Frank sensed her distress, and she felt his hand on her cheek, soothing her, silently willing her to calm down.

  "Make me hard, boy," Gordon commanded, and Frank quickly left Gina to kneel in front of his master. With skill and speed, he took Gordon's cock deep into his throat, moaning slightly as Gordon pulled against the back of his head, and then slowly began to thrust in and out of Frank's mouth. Gina was horrified, but at the same time fascinated by what she was witnessing. She watched with what she wouldn't have admitted was almost admiration for the way Frank could remain perfectly still, Gordon's cock thrust deep in his throat. He didn't pull back or resist in the slightest while Gordon used his mouth. After just a few minutes Gordon pushed Frank away, and Frank came back to her, wiping his face on his sleeve.

  Gordon's penis was erect now, glistening with Frank's saliva. He moved toward the suspended woman's spread and gaping pussy. Using his hand to guide it in, Gordon pushed his penis against her opening, pressing until it popped in, ignoring her cries of fear and pain. "It's almost as tight as your lovely ass," he remarked, grinning at Frank as he began to rape the young woman bound in chains. "Stop her noise, she's distracting me."

  Gina might have expected a hand to be clamped over mouth and nose, but instead Frank muffled her cries with his own kiss, smoothing back her hair and holding her gently. Gordon was careful at first, but insistent. He pressed his large impossibly hard cock against Gina's small opening, holding her legs apart with strong hands on either thigh. Her legs were still hot from the savage whipping she had endured, and he knew his hands must have felt like sandpaper against her injured flesh.

  He marveled silently at his own arousal, even though this was just a woman, but he understood himself and what he was doing well enough to know this wasn't about sex, but about power. Yes, he would choose a male lover, but when it came to the toys, when it came to using them, to breaking them, to torturing them, he didn't care about their sex. He cared about their ability to suffer, their sensitivity and their terror. And Gina had all these lovely qualities in spades. She was turning out to be their most responsive slave to date and now she was being given the ultimate test.

  Frank stood at Gina's head, holding her arms, which were still chained and extended to the ceiling. The stool on which Gina's bare ass rested was just the right height for Gordon as he leaned over to fuck her. The crisscross of welts on her thighs, the tangle of dark hair over white breasts, his slave boy standing over her, it was such an arousing image that Gordon could no longer contain himself. He plunged into the chained virgin; he raped her. Her cunt was deliciously tight, and sheer physical pleasure pulsed into power as he brutally fucked her.

  Gordon pulled out just before coming, and spurted his semen over her belly, and on the welted, creamy thighs of his victim. He wouldn't waste his seed in some cunt. Gina's face was obscured by Frank's head, her whimpers muffled, as he still leaned over her, protectively Gordon thought, feeling a hint of annoyance. He pushed down any misgivings and, pulling on his robe, said only, "Clean her up." There was a faint trickle of blood where he had torn the virgin flesh. "Let's leave her up for a while. I need a shower." Frank followed his master, his expression inscrutable.

  Chapter 5 – The Puppy Dog

  It seemed Frank had only been waiting for Gordon's first use. The master had defiled the slave girl, and now she was 'available' for use. That was how Gina figured it, and in fact she was quite right. Gordon's claiming of her virginity certainly had little to do with sex, and nothing to do with love. It was a rape, pure and simple. An assertion of his power. He did it, in a word, because he could.

  Frank came to her the next morning, and after the daily cleansing ritual, he had led her back to her mirrored room and told her, "Today I'm going to make love to you." He didn't mention that he had been waiting for this moment. His master didn't like girls, but whenever they had one, he was always the first to use her pussy, to claim her in that way. Once he had done it, he lost interest. They had kidnapped several women over the years, as well as several men. The women were much easier to control, of course. The men tended to fight more; to be more physical. But in the end, they all capitulated, all became willing slaves, living, it seemed, only to please their masters.

  But this was the first time Frank had felt something akin to bitterness as he watched Gordon rape Gina. Still, he had to admit that he had liked kissing her mouth while she trembled and shuddered beneath him. The idea of holding down the virgin for such a primal offering certainly had its appeal. But something was different here.

  Usually he was at worst indifferent, at best excited as he watched his master. He didn't understand this new feeling, though on further reflection he had to admit it must be jealousy! He certainly wasn't jealous regarding Gordon. Though Gordon used Frank roughly, Frank felt secure in his position as head slave. So it must be Gina who had made him jealous! He realized with a sense of confusion that he had wanted to be the first one to fuck her. He hadn't dared voice this to Gordon, who would have taken offense if Frank seemed to be regarding one of their toys as anything more than an object for their amusement.

  Yes, something was different here. Something about her eyes; something about the way she stared at him, so silent now, but as if she were speaking directly to his heart. It unnerved him, because it was a new experience. He found that he thought of her as a person, and that he didn't like it sometimes when Gordon was especially
brutal. He found he wanted to protect her.

  Frank didn't know what to do with these new feelings, and for the most part, he was able to ignore them. Gordon had always given him free rein with the toys while he was at work, and when he was home, Frank made sure Gordon was satisfied and cared for. But while Gordon was gone, Frank was in total control.

  Gina had been asleep when he opened the door, though she startled awake, as she always did, when he came in. He saw her relax, understanding that she wanted to see him, not because he was Frank, but because he was not Gordon. He said, more gruffly than he intended, "Lie down and spread your legs; I want to inspect any damage." Gina obeyed him, jumping slightly as his finger touched the still tender area of her entrance. Gordon had torn the skin slightly, but it was already almost healed, after just a night of rest. Her thighs were still mottled and bruised from the caning.

  Gina didn't want to be fucked. She still remembered Gordon's hard penis pressing mercilessly into her, and she covered her pussy with her hands, as if that would protect her from Frank. She loved the new sensation of orgasm, but Gordon's rape had nothing to do with pleasure. She clamped her hands down tighter over her bare sex.

  Frank gently pulled her hands away and she didn't dare resist. His heart melted at the fear in her face. "Shh, don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not Gordon. I won't hurt you. This can be a lovely experience, you know. It doesn't have to hurt."

  Gina didn't believe him, but she was not in a position to argue. Carefully Frank lay next to Gina. She could feel his penis as it pressed hard through the denim of his jeans against her bare thigh. Frank kissed Gina's face, nuzzling her neck and moving lower with his mouth down her belly.