by Vonna Harper
Bought. That word again.
“Men might turn to drugs or alcohol, but those things are crutches. They don’t give the same power. In fact they take power away.”
Judging by her expression, the other woman was trying to follow what Master Damek was saying. Her trainer had left after getting her in position, and Willow wondered where he’d gone and what would happen when he returned.
Master waved a slender paddle in front of Willow’s face. “Your father believed in corporal punishment, right?”
Too deep in dismal anticipation to wonder how he knew that, she tried to nod. “Did he ever use something like that?”
She shook her head. Her father had preferred his belt, maybe because he’d never taken the time to look for anything else.
“And you always knew why you were being punished?”
She had the vague feeling he’d asked her this or something like it before. Wincing from the effort, she again shook her head. Looking at the other captive would be easier than concentrating on Master, but she didn’t dare lose focus.
“You pretty much hated your old man, didn’t you? Unfortunately for you, your fear of him was stronger than your hatred. He sensed your weakness and used it to his advantage.
Punishing you for reasons known only to him was part of his methodology. He couldn’t afford a human possession, but he could and did control you.”
Master Damek was saying her old man had had a lot in common with him and the other trainers. What had her mother’s role been in the way she’d been treated? Had her mother had the same need to dominate or had she blindly followed her husband’s lead?
“Thinking about what I just said, are you?” Master ran the paddle over her belly. “Given your current situation, you don’t have much choice.” He demonstrated his point by forcing his fingers between a leather chest strap and her flesh. “Back to the present, slave. Several times you’ve failed to follow the rules. That won’t be allowed, understand. Ever. Absolute compliance on your part is essential. As for what I’m going to get out of it—“
He cupped a breast and pushed it against her chest wall. “I’ll closely observe you to see if you start to slide into sub space. A little of that’s allowed, but I intend to dictate the timing and duration. Also—“ He pointedly looked at the ceiling. “I want to give your audience something to look at.”
My audience.
“Sex is the ultimate intimate act. Until now the only sex you’ve experienced is with someone you trust. You view it as a pleasurable activity. Climaxing is a primitive function, and Carnal doesn’t deny its slaves that release for reasons I ascribe to completely. However, it’s vital for slaves to never confuse their sexual satisfaction in bondage with what takes place in a relationship between equals.”
Frowning, he studied her then glanced at the other bound woman. “I do have a tendency to slip into teacher mode.” His features suddenly grim, he grabbed her left nipple and twisted it. She cried out. “We aren’t equals, are we?”
Determined to do whatever she needed to so he’d stop, she shook her head.
“That’s right. Here’s another demonstration of the gap between us. You need punishing.
I will provide it. End of discussion.”
What discussion? She couldn’t speak.
Looking at someone whose restraints pretty much mirrored hers forced home the essence of what he’d just said. Then Master Damek stepped back, released her nipple, and struck it with the flexible paddle. Just like that she stopped thinking.
Not long ago he’d tattooed her legs and buttocks with the whip. In contrast he now focused on her breasts and belly. He occasionally hit her mons but left her legs alone. Time after time he flogged her vulnerable breasts. The various straps and bonds on her body confused her. She couldn’t think how to move so hung there as if she’d lost her will. The other woman stared at the ground.
Blow after blow landed on her obscenely offered breasts, the sound like a ripe watermelon being thumped. When he adjusted so only her right breast received punishment, she instinctively turned away trying to protect it. Unfortunately, her tightly tethered feet couldn’t respond, leaving her twisted at the waist.
“Fear me, slave. Fear every man with the right to wield a whip or flogger on your body.”
Maybe he’d intended to turn her this way. Maybe he only wanted to see what she’d do.
Whichever it was, she’d trapped herself. Her right breast became a mass of pain. With each blow, agony pushed deeper into her. She shrieked and cursed but didn’t cry. The gag muted most of what she was saying, seemed to force the sounds back inside her. She lost touch with her limbs, could no longer see.
Suddenly he stopped abusing her breast and started massaging it. Utterly confused, she refused to look at him. Despite herself, she was grateful for the unexpected kindness.
“Pleasure and pain,” he said. Using her nipple as his handle, he drew her back around.
“More pain now followed by whatever pleasant sensations I decide to grant you.”
She should have known he wasn’t done punishing her, but her mind was in too much turmoil to focus. Only one thing came through—the paddle had found her left breast.
“Feel my power. Never doubt what I’m capable of, slave.”
He said other things, but her world again revolved around unrelenting pain. He’d restrained her head so she couldn’t look down at herself, not that she had the courage for that.
In her mind’s eye, a cage had closed down around her, squeezed her smaller and smaller, reduced her to nothing.
Agony circling her like a vulture.
She again tried to protect her breast by twisting away only to lose her balance. She all but hung by her upraised arms until she managed to get her feet under her again.
More broken sounds shot past the ball gag. Sweat streamed off her. She drooled and lost bladder control.
“Beg me to stop, slave.” He repeatedly stuck the top of her swollen, throbbing breast.
“Promise me anything, not that there isn’t any part of you I can’t take.”
That she wouldn’t do! She couldn’t hold back the guttural cries, but she refused to break down before him.
The blows weren’t as painful as they’d been at the beginning, either that or her breast was becoming numb. The rhythm remained the same. Relentless. He struck her, struck her, dropped her back down into the deep, dark cage.
“Who am I, slave? What’s my name?”
“Ma-ther.” Oh please, Master. Don’t kill me.
“Who do you belong to?”
Flames licked through her beaten and helpless breast. “You, Ma-ther.”
“What would make me stop?” The paddle landed on her nipple. Yelping, she reared back and again lost her balance. He let her hang. “Say the God damn words.”
Until now he’d sounded in control of himself which, maybe, was why she’d been able to hold onto a little sanity. The new note in his voice deeply chilled her. He spanked her left nipple once, twice, three times more, then did the same to the right.
The other captive shrieked through her gag.
Master Damek stopped with his arm uplifted. His breathing sounded nearly as labored as hers did. He opened his mouth but didn’t say anything. After a few seconds, he dropped the paddle. He wiped sweat from her sides, then stepped back. Groaning with every breath, she waited.
Their eyes met. Lost and frightened as she was, she took note of his changing emotions.
He was pulling himself out of his own cage, laboring with every step, not understanding himself.
How could that be?
Maybe he realized what he’d given away because he closed his eyes and jerked his head from side to side. His breathing still took work.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck.”
What had happened? Who had he become?
“They want to see the whole picture,” he said long seconds later. His expression neutral now, he pointed at a spot on the ceiling to his rig
ht and behind him. Dreading what she had to do, she looked up. A small lens was trained on her. The longer she stared at it, the more she wondered who might be watching. One thing she had no doubt of—whoever it was might eventually buy her.
Master Damek positioned himself between her and the lens and faced it. “She can take a hard beating. Almost anything you want to dish out, she’ll weather it.”
No, she wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
If there was a part of her body that didn’t hurt, she hadn’t found it. Her legs and buttocks still stung from the earlier abuse he’d subjected them to. Far worse was the searing pain in the breasts she couldn’t see.
“Poor little body.” He patted her belly, prompting her to suck in a breath. “What a shame I have to abuse it, but if I don’t, you won’t learn.” His fingers inched toward the space between her legs. “You know what’s entailed in an education. I trust you understand the process we’re going through. Coming to accept your role as a sex slave is a complex process.
Fortunately, I’m ready and, yes, eager, to get you to the point of being able to graduate.”
Hot, sweaty fingers touched her labia. She lacked the strength to try to do anything about it. If only she could pass out.
Or free herself.
“I’ve taken you to the edge in one direction. Now we’re going to turn around and go the other way.”
He stepped out of her line of sight, giving her little to do except wait. Because she’d had so little of it as a child, she now valued her privacy. Having it ripped from her in the form of forced nudity, restraints, and an all-seeing camera eye took a huge hunk out of her. She’d vowed not to break down, but she might not be able to live up to the promise.
“Hmm. Ahhh.”
The sound of a feminine voice broke through her tumbling thoughts. The other captive was trying to say something. Desperate to connect, she struggled to reach out, but the words all ran together.
“Look at that,” a man said from behind her. He laughed. “The animals are getting along.”
“You’re sure about that?” Master Damek asked. “I can’t understand a word they’re saying.”
“It’s not like it matters.” The man stepped into view. He carried gleaming nipple clamps with a long connecting chain. “I’ve got some strong interest in this one.” He rubbed the woman’s breasts. “Her big boobs keep turning him on. If he buys her he wants her nipples pierced.”
What? No!
Master Damek suddenly appeared by her side. To her relief, he seemed more interested in the conversation than in her.
“So what’s this?” Master Damek indicated what the other man was holding. “His request?”
“Yep. And since money talks—“ He lightly slapped one clamp against the captive’s breast. “he’s going to get his wish. He also wants to hear what she thinks of his little idea.”
The woman’s eyes had widened the moment she spotted the clamps. If anything they became even larger as her handler began unbuckling her gag. She spit it out but didn’t speak.
“We’re making progress,” the man said. “Three, four days ago she would have been caterwauling by now. All right, slut, what are you supposed to say?”
She licked spittle off the corners of her mouth. “Thank you for removing my gag, Master Stoker.”
“Hmm.” He glared at her. “I shouldn’t have to remind you.”
“I’m sorry, Master Stoker.”
“You’re going to be even sorrier in a moment.” He looked over at Master Damek. “If I’d known how stupid she was I wouldn’t have taken her. Fortunately the interested party doesn’t give a damn about that. Okay, let’s give the customer what he wants.”
Chapter Twelve
The other woman hadn’t been strapped into leather the way Master Damek had done to her, and now that her gag had been removed, Willow envied her her relative freedom. Or rather she did until Stoker grabbed her left breast and closed a clamp around the nub.
Squealing, she struggled to turn away. Using the chain, Stoker pulled her around so she was facing the camera. She’d started trembling, and her nostrils were flared. The way her eyes rolled up, Willow wondered if she was going to pass out.
“Damn but those knockers are sensitive,” Stoker said.
“Looks like it. You going to finish the job?”
“In a minute.” Stoker let go of the clamp so everything dangled from one nipple. The poor woman repeatedly rose onto her toes. Take pity on me, her expression said, but Willow knew neither man would.
“So,” Stoker asked her master, “what’s next on your agenda?”
“Like you have to ask.”
The man who’d demonstrated control over every inch of her grabbed Willow’s hips and made her she face him. He didn’t have to say a word for her to understand she didn’t dare move. He reached into a back pocket and withdrew a thick black dildo.
“I don’t know where this fits on the pleasure scale.” He slid it between her legs. “Guess we’ll find out.”
Hard plastic touched her opening. After everything she’d endured today, any pleasure was welcome. Her eyes drifted to half-mast and she had to work at not sighing.
“Look at that,” Master Damek said. “Damn but she likes sex.”
She always had, right up to the moment when she started to climax. Then, although it was too late, vulnerability swamped her.
“Like we keep saying, every slave’s different. How about a little friendly competition,”
Stoker said. “You and I see which of our bitches goes off first.”
“You’re on.” Master Damek rotated the toy against her already heated labia. Groaning, she straightened slightly and thrust her pelvis at him. A part of her stood off to the side cursing her easy capitulation. The rest dove into anticipation and escape. Soon, she prayed, her mind would no longer heed her body’s misery.
The sex tool entered her. Her inner muscles twitched around it. If it wasn’t battery driven, she’d be totally dependent on Master Damek to pleasure her, which she didn’t believe was part of his makeup. Yes, he’d forced climaxes from her, but it hadn’t been because he cared about her. Whatever happened now was part of his plan to break her apart.
“Ah, please, it hurts.”
The other captive’s cry pulled her back to reality. Stoker had fastened the second nipple clamp in place and was attaching a weight to the chain. Seeing how the weight dragged the large breasts down, Willow mumbled words of sympathy.
“That one is a pain slut,” Master Damek told Willow. “I suggest you learn from watching her.”
Master Damek shoved the dildo deep into her and let go. She pressed her legs together so it wouldn’t fall out. He stepped to the side so she had an unobstructed view of her fellow captive. Although she didn’t want to, she couldn’t stop looking as Stoker pinched the skin along the woman’s side and attached a clothes pin to it. Sweat glistened on her face, and she shook violently. Stoker attached another clothes pin near the first.
“Please don’t hurt her,” Willow begged. Her words weren’t making any sense, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“Stay out of it,” her master snapped. “It’s none of your business.”
If that’s what you believe, why are you making me watch?
She was relieved when Stoker stopped applying clothes pins and strapped the woman into a pussy harness that included a knob that snugged against her clit. Smiling, Stoker punched something on a remote. Within seconds, the woman started writhing. Stoker used the breast chain to hold her in place.
Vibrations rocked Willow’s vagina. Caught unawares, she shuddered and whined.
“The decision’s up to you,” Master Damek told her. “You can let it slide out or keep it there.”
Much as she hated the idea of taking pleasure from something that had been forced on her, she needed the escape and he knew it.
Judging by her reactions, the other slave’s clit teaser was vibrating at a fierce pace. She couldn’t escape the assault
any more than she could stop Stoker from attaching more clothes pins to her side. Despite her constantly-in-motion body, the man added a last one and then moved over to her other side. Her grunts and groans became primitive cries. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Several times Stoker stopped what he was doing and fingered the remote.
Each time the woman squealed and danced as if she was being electrocuted.
“Turn you on?” Master Damek asked and stepped up the speed on the large, stiff dildo lodged in Willow. “You like seeing someone try to deal with equal measures of gratification and hurt?”
The accusation made Willow sick to her stomach, yet she wondered what it would feel like to be in the same position. She’d hate the clothes pins, but she’d survived cruel attention directed at her breasts. The searing sensations that originated in her nipples had changed over time into what, not enjoyment but an incredible overloading of her senses.
“Top speed,” Stoker announced and tucked the remote in his back pocket.
The woman kept lifting one foot and then the other as if she was standing on something hot. She leaned forward so the weighted chain swayed, causing ripples to roll through her breasts. A moment later she arched her back and thrust her pelvis at her trainer. Her sounds were both awful and wonderful.
“Oops,” Master Damek said, “I forgot to keep pace.”
Willow wasn’t surprised when the dildo began shuddering double-time. The pulsations were stronger than any man’s cock, fiercer than anything she’d ever put in herself. She couldn’t stop moaning and was beyond caring how much she’d revealed about her weakness.
The first session had consisted of one horror after another. Her body had endured restraints she’d never considered and her flesh—had Master Damek thought of her at all as he’d beaten and whipped her?
This gift to her pussy was the only reward she might ever get. Demeaning as it was, she’d cling to it.
A muffled grunt cut into her self-absorption, and she watched as Stoker knocked one pin after another off his captive. Instead of screaming, pleasure sounds rolled out of her. Her body gyrated. Sex juice escaped.
