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Spirit of Submission

Page 10

by JJ Argus


  “What? You locked her up in the basement, you old pervert?”

  “Not quite. She’s in the wine cellar.”

  “Wine cellar? You don’t drink wine.”

  “Which means there’s a lot of room in there.”

  He unlocked the entrance and let Roy through.

  The wine cellar was brightly lit with both pot lights and recessed track lighting. The expensive woodwork gleamed darkly. A hand rail separated one section of the wine cellar from a step down into a small alcove. The rail was of glossy dark wood, diamond shaped, and Spirit sat straddling that rail, the top portion driven up into her naked pussy so that it all but disappeared. Her ankles were tied tightly with black rope to the vertical bars supporting the rail.

  She was entirely nude, and her skin gleamed with sweat, droplets of which were trickling slowly down her chest as she sat there, back sharply arched, breasts thrust up and out. Similar black rope was looped around the base of each of her breasts, squeezing in, forcing the flesh out even more tautly than her position would otherwise result.

  Her head was drawn back so that she faced the roof, both by a cord attached to her hair, which pulled down her spine and disappeared beneath her, and by a smaller cord attached to her tongue ring which pulled it up and out.

  Similar cords drew on her nipples, stretching them up and out, and distending her breasts somewhat. Her arms were bound tightly together at the wrist and elbow behind her, forcing her shoulders back sharply.

  “Now that’s some expert rope work,” Roy said admiringly.

  He raised his hand and lightly caressed the underside f one of Spirit’s straining breasts, then fingered the nipple.

  “How long has she been sitting like this?”

  “A while,” Dave said, examining her glassy eyes.

  “She seems a little… distressed.”

  Dave smiled and went to a sideboard, then took picked a vibrator. It consisted of a long handle, a narrow, pencil thick rod with a round, oversized marble on the end. He turned on and slid the marble in between the girl’s trembling thighs, jamming it against her sweating flesh at the top of her sex. Roy could hear the buzzing sound as Dave rubbed it back and forth against the girl. Then Dave gripped her hair and pulled.

  That forced her to lean back, which of course, pulled harder on her nipples and tongue, and she gurgled in pain, but then as the marble rubbed up and down against her clitoris she started to tremble and shake and make low, moaning, animal sounds that made Roy’s cock harden.

  “Hot little slut,” he breathed.

  “Just teaching her her place,” Dave said, rubbing the vibrator up and don against the girl’s clitoris.

  They could both see the girl’s hips grinding desperately against the little vibrator.

  “What are you trying to do with her tongue? Pull it out?”

  “Nahh, though a woman who can’t talk would be a blessing, especially this one. Just trying to stretch it out a little”

  “Maybe you should pierce her nipples too,” Roy said, examining the cords, plucking one.

  “I didn’t pierce her tongue. The idiot did that to herself.”

  He reached up and carefully cut loose the cords around Spirit’s nipples. The girl moaned and slumped back a little, then began to shake and tremble and make anguished sounds of pain.

  “Bet those will be swollen for a while,” Roy said, observing the fat, red nipples.

  Dave chuckled. “And be very, very sensitive, too.”

  “Those are big nipples,” Roy said, fingering one.

  Dave untied the girl’s ankles, but then, after examining her a moment, grinned and cut the rope in two, tossing one to Roy.

  “Spread her legs,” he said.

  Roy looked at the trembling girl, bemused, then reached down and took her ankle as Dave took the other. They spread her legs out wide to either side, then wrapped them separately in rope and tied it off.

  He cut loose the cord between her hair and the butt plug inside her, then removed the hook from her tongue ring.

  “Bet that swollen tongue would feel good against my prick,” Roy said, rubbing himself.

  “Be my guest.”

  He stepped back and watched as Roy used the girl's hair as a handle, bending her forward to bring her face low before guiding her onto his hard cock.

  The girl's eyes were glassy, her body coated in sweat, her hair a bedraggled, tangled mess. But she looked deliciously hot and erotic as her pussy ground down against the wood below. Her lovely legs stretched down and out to either side, holding her in place, straddling the wood as Roy forced his cock deep into her throat and started fucking her.

  Dave considered the girl as Roy used her. It was possible the little slut could be a godsend if she were properly controlled. His wife certainly wasn't good for much these days in terms of sex, and he could use a safe outlet. But even more importantly Davie was a dead loss as far as almost everything was concerned. But he was still a vigorous man. He could have more kids, more sons.

  He could breed this bitch.

  It wasn't like Davie was likely to father any kids on her, the drunken, drugged up punk. But if he did it everyone would assume it was Davie. Even Davie, who was too stoned to know what he was doing half the time. The child would look like him, but of course, that wouldn't surprise anyone. And he would have a big share of the job of raising him properly, given how useless his purported father was.

  The wet, gurgling, choking sounds she was giving off as Roy thrust in and out of her throat made Dave's cock throb. It wasn't just that she was a beautiful young girl. It was that she was completely at their mercy. Completely at HIS mercy. He could do anything he fucking well wanted to her. And he was a man who had always enjoyed power.

  All he had to do was get the slut used to obedience.

  To him.

  * * *

  Carey watched the door to the basement carefully, curiously, suspiciously, anxiously. She'd seen her father lead Roy through it, and something about their attitude of smug anticipation and just the hint of furtive sneakiness had caught her attention as she'd sat quietly by the side door trying to come to terms with the strange, shocking explosion of sexuality which had torn apart her otherwise normal and quite virginal life.

  She was mortified at what Spirit had done to her, but the memories cascaded through her mind hour after hour, keeping her nipples hard and her pussy moist and hot. She felt a dark echo of sensual heat combined with the memory of those incredible orgasms the girl had forced upon her. It had left her wide-eyed and astonished whenever she thought about it.

  And she couldn't stop thinking about it!

  When she wasn't remembering all the awful, wonderful, nasty, graphic things Spirit had done and said to her she was fantasizing about other people, men, of course, doing the same sorts of things to her.

  And yet, for some reason, the two men's furtive behavior had caught her attention. She'd followed them to the basement door mostly out of curiosity. What was down there they would be looking at anyway? And then she'd heard – something. It wasn't a voice, exactly, nor a word. It wasn't speech, and yet it sounded, somehow... feminine.

  That, of course, immediately set her thinking about Spirit. She'd found her sister and mother in their predictable routines, so who could be down there with her father and Roy? Assuming, of course, that had been a female voice. Thought it was more of a, a moan or a groan or a cry than any actual words.

  She wasn't sure what she suspected. But her thought of Spirit were now helplessly imbued with lust and heat and dark sexual hunger. Could it be possible her father and Roy... no, surely not! They were ancient! And yet, Spirit was a slut, she thought disdainfully.

  She stayed out of sight, waiting for them to leave. Finally they did, and she hurried to the door, only to find it locked. She pursed her lips in annoyance, then her mind considered and she ran back to mother's little office. The house had many doors, and of course, many locks, so a few years ago a master key had been cut. It was supp
osed to be kept in a secure location, but she'd come across it while looking for something.

  She returned, glancing anxiously about, then unlocked the door, slipped inside, and locked it behind her.

  * * *

  Spirit hung weakly, moaning softly into the gag. She was hanging by her wrists, spreadeagled in mid-air, her ankles bound to rings set in the cold stone floor, her wrists chained above and apart. It was like some old movie, like a dungeon, she thought dazedly. Facing the far corner, away from the wine cellar, she looked upon nothing but cold stone

  They had whipped her.

  They had whipped her!

  Already mentally and physically exhausted, her pussy burning, aching worse than she could ever have imagined, she was hung and then whipped by long, slim, multi-tongued flogs. Each strand was thin enough but the mass of them cutting across her back had been like cat's claws – to say nothing of when they'd whipped her breasts!

  It was all like a dark dream, a dark, sensual fantasy. She hung here now, skin glistening with sweat, ball gag forcing her jaws back, dozens, scores of thin red lines criss-crossing her body, front and back, like a latticework.

  She ached – everywhere.

  And yet the focus of her attention, physically, were the two huge dildos they had forced into her pussy and up her ass. They were so thick her belly felt distended, cramps rippling through her. Thin, rough twine went around them and up around her belly to hold them in place, and her pussy sucked, squeezed and spasmed repeatedly around the one in front.

  She hurt everywhere, and yet she was awash in dark, sensual fantasy, in heat and hunger and lust and need. She floated on a dark, erotic cloud waiting for further use, further torture, harsher sex.

  Her pussy spasmed again and she moaned weakly.

  Movement drew her chin up and she blinked her eyes, moaning into the gag. Sudden fear and excitement rose inside her – then clashed with shock as she realized who was there.

  Carey looked at her in astonishment, her mouth open in a wide O of amazement as her eyes roamed up and down her nude, battered body.

  “Wow,” the girl said in a whisper.

  Spirit closed her eyes in both embarrassment and disappointment. Stupid girl. Go away, she wished she could say.

  But Carey moved in closer, and Spirit felt a quiver of worry. The girl wasn't as mindless and helpless as she had been when last they'd met. She seemed intrigued, and quite a bit more in in control of herself – certainly more than Spirit was at the moment.

  “And how are you today... slut?” she asked tauntingly.

  Spirit glowered at her nervously.

  “I guess Roy... and maybe my father used you like the whore you are,” she said.

  She circled around behind her, and then came to stand in front again.

  “But I bet you liked it,” she said.

  She reached out with both hands, her fingers almost delicately framing Spirit's still aching, swollen nipples. She rubbed them between the pads of her fingers and Spirit felt any defiance melting. Her nipples were horrifically sensitive now, and at first the rubbing made them ache and burn, but quickly that turned to a dark tingling hunger, and when Carey pinched them and pulled them outward pain and heat thrilled Spirit as she gasped and moaned in helpless response.

  “Now who’s all tied up and helpless?” Carey purred.

  She let go of Spirit's nipples and let her fingers traced the thin lines crossing her breasts.

  “Wow,” the girl said.

  Her eyes lit on the flog itself sitting on a nearby counter, and she picked it up as Spirit looked on nervously.

  Carey twisted it in her hands, feeling the thickness and texture of the thin leather strips.

  “Cool,” she said.

  She circled Spirit slowly, tauntingly, pretending to a coolness she didn't feel. In fact, her pussy was burning, and yet a part of her wished she were the one hanging like this, that it was Spirit with the flog about the whip her. What would that feel like, she wondered excitedly.

  She brought the flog down across Spirit's back, not terribly hard, and felt a surge of hot heat in her groin. Another blow, and another, and she began to feel more freedom. Spirit couldn't stop her, couldn't even protest. She could do anything she wanted to the girl. Was this how Spirit felt when Carey herself was all tied up?

  She brought the flog down across her back again, then again, and again, adrenalin and heat flooding her system as she swung harder, exulting in the girl's muffled cries of pain, in her thrashing and twisting and arching as the leather snapped and bit at her back and shoulders and buttocks.

  She moved around in front of her and felt another hot, liquid thrill as she considered the girl's breasts, then swung the flog down across them.

  God, she's so going to get me back, she thought excitedly.

  And that provoked her to swinging harder, letting the thin strips crack down across Spirit's breast and chest and belly as tears spilled from her eyes.

  Serves you right, she thought defiantly.

  But then she dropped the flog and knelt before the girl. She tried to fold her hand around the thick dildo impaling her but couldn't. She traced the line of Spirit's pussy lips clasped so tightly around it and wondered just how deep it was inside her. Then she stared at the hot, swollen clitoris, and leaned in to slide her tongue across it.

  * * *

  Spirit's body twisted and writhed as the girl flogged her. Yet that was nothing compared to what happened when she felt even the gentlest flicker of her tongue against her clitoris. Her pussy had been jammed down on that wood for long enough to make her entire pussy a dark, throbbing pain. She screamed at the touch of that tongue, screamed again, and again as it slid slowly, moistly across her throbbing, burning clitoris.

  She was hyper-sensitive down there, and she twisted and pulled desperately against her bonds to try and get away, to try and signal the girl to stop, and because she couldn't possibly not twist and thrash at the pain as the girl's tongue slid across horribly sensitive nerve endings.

  The pain was far worse than the whipping.

  At first.

  But slowly it seemed to shift, to mutate, to change into something different, into sensations which were higher, sharper, and yet strangely intense.

  And then the orgasms began.

  It was not that they were so intense, so much as there were so many of them.

  One after another, they spilled through her system, making her spasm and shake, her chest locking tight, her stomach fluttering wildly, her head rolling and jerking as the sensations poured over her.

  But when the girl untied the cord and began jerking the dildo up and down they grew more powerful, despite how little she could move it due to its tightness.

  Dazed, she stared down at Carey, who acted like a curious idiot savant, as she examined Spirit's aching pussy, pulling the fat dildo free, then sliding a finger, then two more up inside her. A third followed, then a fourth, as her thumb and tongue stroked at Spirit's clitoris. Then somehow, Spirit's aching, stretched pussy lips were wrapped around the girl's slender wrist, and her fist was thrusting up into her with enough force to send scalding waves of heat and sensation tearing through her nervous system.

  The orgasm were massive, tearing at her mind, sweeping away her consciousness until she was little more than a drooling void twitching and trembling in helpless response.

  * * *

  Spirit had changed. The shocking, extended experiences of submission to both Rutherford and his friends, and now to his daughter, had robbed her of her previous defiance and impudence. But she hardly cared. Between the two of them her life was a wild rush of dark, sensual heat and pleasure. She didn't have to work, not as Davie's wife, and when she bore her first child, a boy, no one even considered the possibility it wasn't his – not even him.

  Four more children followed, and their 'grandfather' was delighted that three of them were boys. People praised him for taking a responsible role in their upbringing, especially, they whispered, give
n what an irresponsible man their father was.

  His business was already solidly in place, now, and unlike when Davie was growing up, he could afford to devote considerable effort to making sure they grew up as responsible young men.

  Spirit was delighted too. She had everything she could want, really, and if the world saw her as such a quiet 'normal' girl now, well, that was because the world had no idea what kind of dark, sensual life she led, or the kinky pleasure she received at the hand of Rutherford– and his daughter.

  End

  * * * * *

  Have praise, suggestions or complaints? writeargus@gmail.com

  Erotic stories & novels by JJ Argus

  Zoe's New Job * Working For The Smiths * What I Learned in College * Two Teachers * Twenty Nine * Tomb of Darkness * The Wolf Girl * The Submission Game * The Student Librarian *The Straight Girl * The Secretary * The President's Slave Girl * The New Neighbors * The Nerd Girls * The Mouse * The Master's Choice * The Interview * The Girls in the Band * The General's Aide * The Director * The Debt Slave * The Dark Passage * The Challenge * The Butler * The Banker Babe* The Arrangement * Stripped! *Stocks and Bonds * Sir * Slave of the Vampires * Rich Man's Yacht * Personal Services * Nigger's Girl * Mr. Black's Personal Assistant * Mister Stirling's Chauffeur * Miranda's Tower * Masters Fine Leather * Kayla's Submission * Journey into Slavery * Into The Past * In the Vampire's Lair * In The Summer Heat * Her Very Own Pirate * Fiona's Need * Erin's Four Masters * Emily's Debt * * Courtney's Boring Life * Courtney Gets Caught * Chained Heat * Bound in Red Tape * Biker Bitch * Behind the Mask * An English Girl in China * A Slave to the Pack *Owned by the Pack * An Office Affair * A Life of Slavery * A Darker Shade of Gray * A Dark Spirit * A Dark Desert Heat * Anything *

 

 

 


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