by Sean O'Kane
“That’ll give him the scent,” Mistress Scarlet said. “Now let’s go and whip them up a bit.”
Upstairs Danny and I were mounted in the rectangular whipping frame, wrists raised and spread, ankles wide apart. We were tied face to face, our bodies pressed hard against each other’s for their entire length. Because of his height my face was pressed against the hairs of his chest and I could feel his flaccid penis against my midriff. It didn’t stay that way for long. As soon as I had been positioned against him and it became clear that we were to be whipped in that position, I felt it begin to tumesce and had to draw in my stomach to allow it to jerk into its fully upright position. In the meantime I saw Madam selecting a heavy, flat bladed flogger and my nipples attained full erection against Danny’s muscle-ridged torso. Mistress Scarlet disappeared for a moment and came back with the longest and whippiest of the crops.
What followed was the slowest beating I had ever taken, and the most exquisite. They took it in turns, circling around us, so that I got the thumping impact of the multi-lashed whip followed some time later by the searing bite of the crop. They took their time too, comparing the marks the different implements left on the male and female body, and the way the lashes wrapped around my slenderer back to thud into the side of my breasts, while Danny’s back took it full on. It was obvious that these discussions were for our benefit, making us wait for the next lash while we savoured the full effect of the previous one. The result was that I felt each stroke of the whips as a steady build, the third lash re-igniting the pleasure and pain of one and two, the fourth building on the previous three and so on. But it was so slow! Cool fingers traced the weals on my back and buttocks and comments were made on how much more easily my flesh marked than Danny’s. I became aware that I was moaning in frustration and burying my face against his chest as I waited for the next lash, then it would come, scalding my shoulders and jerking me against Danny who was, in turn, pushed against me by the force of the lashes across his back. I felt his cock press harder against me and began to rub myself against it, rocking and circling my hips, licking at his chest. Laughter came from behind me, but I didn’t care. I really was in heat by then; I needed the whip and I needed that cock deep inside me. The whipping began to pick up pace at last and the slow burn from the lashes really took hold between my open legs. I rubbed everything I could against the hard male body I was tied to but the only response I got was the jerk of his hips at each lash. He made no sound at all while I shamelessly moaned and yelped as the heat built up. I had no idea of how many lashes I had taken when I felt fingers run down my buttock crease, along my sex lips and then push up into my vagina.
“A few more yet my little bitch and then we’ll let Danny loose on you,” Madam said.
Both dominants then let fly for a few minutes, a full-blooded flogging, no more teasing. The whip hammered down on my back and I slammed against Danny, time after time, with an ache in my sex and my lips fluttering in desperation to get his cock into me. I was nearing a climax of pain and agonised pleasure from the whip and from my blatant frustration when they stopped and took us down. I was practically sobbing as they did so and couldn’t take my eyes off Danny’s throbbing erection with its steel piercings. They no longer made my skin crawl, I was just desperate to find out what it felt like to have them deep inside me.
I had never had sex in front of an audience before but even that prospect didn’t bother me. My whole body throbbed with whip heat and desire - pure lust. Fortunately the two dominants were turned on as well by then and wasted no more time. Madam hauled me over to the whipping trestle and made me brace my arms on the crossbar while sticking my rump out and spreading my legs. I hardly had time to settle myself before I felt Danny’s helm begin to push my swollen lips apart and slide smoothly up until he had full penetration. I gasped in appreciation and dimly noted the feel of the barbell at the base of his shaft as it came to rest against my lips. Inside I got a definite feel of more than usual friction on my front vaginal wall from the piercing through the helm. As soon as he was in I started moving on him, swivelling and rotating my hips.
Madam pulled my head up and began kissing and nuzzling me.
“You’re in for the fuck of a lifetime,” she whispered. “He’s trained not to come until she tells him to. And we’re going to make you beg for mercy before he shoots his load.”
Naive little fool that I was I nodded eagerly at that prospect. Being fucked was a new experience for me. I mean just having a man in me for the pleasure of the physical sensations without any kind of relationship at all. Martin and Ben had had me plenty of times obviously, and lots before them. But always there had been some kind of relationship. However rough Ben was with me after a whipping, I loved being taken by him precisely because it was him doing it to me. But that night all I knew was that I had a complete stranger’s penis right up me and I was loving it. It could have been a dildo for all that I cared.
“Shove it to her, Dannyboy,” Mistress Scarlet called out, and I heard the crop land on his buttocks. “And if you dare come before I tell you to, you worthless lump of shit, I’ll make a pincushion out of your balls and keep you in your kennel for a month. Now fuck her!”
He immediately grabbed my hips and began to batter at me, his pelvis slapping against my bottom while his shaft rammed in and out, the steel balls at his helm and his urethra rubbing my inner tissues. Madam laid a couple of lashes across my shoulders and I began bucking and pushing against him in earnest.
“Fuck him, you bitch!” she yelled and lashed me again. To their shouts of encouragement and for their pleasure we two slaves performed a frantic coupling. I came very quickly with all my usual yelling and crying, while whips slashed and Madam and Scarlet shouted obscenities. It was a shattering orgasm but even while the lights were fading in my brain, I felt Danny grab my hair to brace himself better and just keep on going. In, out, in, out. Rubbing constantly at my vagina and already starting me on the way up again.
Madam grinned down at me as she saw realisation begin to dawn on me.
I’ve been taken by many slaveboys subsequently. My present Master in particular has enjoyed watching me servicing them while I am forbidden an orgasm myself. But I’ve never liked them; they just feel wrong to me. Danny was something else though. Later on I found out that his mistress made a small fortune hiring him out to bored trophy wives and rich older women. I wasn’t surprised, he was just an endless fuck on legs. How she had trained him I never did find out, but the result was that he could quite simply go all night without coming.
My arms buckled under the assault of my second orgasm and I finished it slumped over the crossbar. But Danny hauled me up again by my hair and just continued pistoning in and out, slowly, relentlessly. My sex began to sting but it was so juicy I could feel as well as hear how it was overflowing around his cock as it withdrew and then rammed in again.
“No, please Madam!” I begged. “Please, rest…”
She laughed into my now seriously frightened face. “Did you know, you whip-hungry little slut, that to a slavegirl like you Danny’s tool can be more terrifying than any whip? How many orgasms can you take, do you think? Well, we’re going to find out.”
They did but I lost count long before I was allowed to stop.
In that first session I can remember counting four climaxes and then the orgasms came so fast they overlapped, like waves pounding onto a beach.
At last Mistress Scarlet must have told him to stop because suddenly he withdrew completely and I almost screamed in shock as my muscles suddenly clenched round nothing and my lips fluttered in spasms. My knees buckled under me and I collapsed onto the floor cupping my sex with both hands. It burned and stung like never before and I writhed for a moment or two until I realised that I wasn’t the only groaning female in the room. Slowly I raised my head and saw that Janet had been fetched from her position of disgrace downstairs. She was now backed a
gainst one of the walls with the two dominants on either side of her, tweaking and pulling at her nipples while she masturbated with a monstrous dildo. Her legs were spread wide apart and I could see how the huge shaft spread her labia as she rammed it into herself so violently that her breastflesh quivered at each thrust. She was nearing her peak and was gazing at Danny’s still rampant sex with shameless lust. Her cries mounted until she froze at her climax, both hands holding the dildo at full penetration and the two dominants pulled and squeezed her nipples spitefully hard. She gave one last shuddering cry and subsided.
I was grateful for the rest but it had been all too short. Madam saw me sitting up and strode over to haul me up and lead me over to the broad topped whipping bench. She pushed me down on my back and immediately I began begging for mercy. I had a horrible feeling that Danny was nowhere near finished with me and I didn’t think my sex could take much more pounding. For the first time ever, I became seriously frightened. I was scared of what damage that glistening pole which jutted out from Danny’s black pubes might to do to my insides. Madam made no response to my pleas and I could only struggle weakly. In a few moments she had rolled me half over, clipped my wrist restraints together behind my back, rolled me back again, raised and spread my legs and clipped my ankles to a spreader bar hanging from the ceiling.
“Okay, fuckboy,” Mistress Scarlet said, “she’s ready to go again.”
“Noooo!” I managed a scream but it was choked off by a grunt of pure agony as he speared me again. I was tight but still sodden with juices so he had little problem getting in, but from my side it was terrible. It felt like he was splitting me wide open. I craned my head up to beg him for mercy but he was expressionless as he placed his big hands round my upper thighs and began rocking his hips back and forward in that murderous rhythm I was now so scared of. But there was absolutely nothing I could do and pretty soon the inevitable happened. The orgasm was so intense I nearly passed out and they let him stop for a moment until my heart stopped hammering, but then they made him start again. I was terrified of the next orgasm and screamed as it hurtled over me, blinding me, throwing my body helplessly against its bonds, paralysing me with an ecstasy which overloaded every sense and every nerve. It wasn’t pleasure and it wasn’t pain; it was simply the outer limits of both. And I’ve come to believe that it is a region that only slavegirls attain. And having watched other girls forced there by their masters, I can see why they enjoy pushing us to those limits, we make a spectacular show as we arch and twist and scream in sexually induced dementia. Maybe there is some envy there; it’s one place we go to where they can’t follow. Maybe, but I’ve never had the courage to ask a master about that.
“Now that was a true slave’s orgasm, K.” From a long way away I heard Madam’s voice. Slowly I opened my eyes and looked blearily up at her. Danny was still inside me but he was waiting for the command before he began shafting me again. I saw no end to my torment in her expression, and worse, she was running the lashes of a strange little whip through her fingers. I couldn’t speak, just shake my head desperately. The lashes of the whip were thin and only about a foot long, they looked almost like thick shoelaces and I could see that Madam’s gaze was fixed on my heaving chest as I fought to control my breathing.
Whack!
With no warning she swished the whip down and I arched in agony as a stinging like a hundred bee stings burst over my left boob.
Whack!
Again those thin laces bit down, into the soft flesh of my right boob, the very slenderness of them allowing them to bite more spitefully than anything I had yet experienced. She paused to let me gasp and whimper for a bit while I contemplated what she had in store for me next. She waited until I was about to beg again, then she nodded at Danny and simultaneously brought the whip down.
How I twisted and bucked and howled as Danny mercilessly shafted my burning sex and Madam flicked that awful little whip again and again over breasts and hardened nipples. But once more I was helplessly drumming my bottom on the table as my body prepared to throw itself into the abyss again, and again I hurtled into the darkness of tormented orgasm. And this time I couldn’t stop. Danny battered at me between my legs and Madam slashed at me with that horrible little whip and time and again I dissolved into helpless overload until at one final peak, which I thought would surely kill me, I fainted into merciful oblivion.
I was still on my back on the table when I came round, but my wrists and ankles were free. I was immediately aware of the agonising pain in my crotch and moaned as I rolled into a foetal position to cup it with both hands.
“Ah, she’s back with us,” Mistress Scarlet said. “Come on, Danny hasn’t finished with you yet.” She hauled me up to a sitting position and I just leaned against her, too exhausted even to beg, too dazed from the orgasms and too badly beaten by Danny’s prick and the whip to do anything more than accept whatever was coming. But I would gladly have gone under the whip again if it meant avoiding another session on that wretched cock.
Scarlet yanked me off the table and I crumpled into a heap on the floor, my legs just wouldn’t work. Madam bent down and showed me the bootlace whip, I groaned and made an attempt to get knees and elbows under me but it still took several cuts across the buttocks before I could even kneel up. And when I did I found myself staring at a still-rigid, steel pierced weapon which even after all that, jutted in proud erection from Danny’s thick pubic hair. It gleamed with my juices.
“Suck him. And do it well or I’ll have him fuck you again,” Madam ordered.
I nodded and shuffled over on my knees. I couldn’t speak; I needed all of my remaining strength to avoid being fucked unconscious again.
When I got to Danny I had to reach behind him and hold his buttocks to support myself, and for a while all I could do was lick the scrotum and tease at the two gold rings which pierced it there with my tongue. I can’t say whether they excited or repelled me by then. All I was concerned about was doing a good enough job to escape having him screw me again. Some female readers might find it hard to imagine a woman being so desperate to avoid having a good sized cock inside her, but all I can say is that being driven helplessly to repeated orgasms without end until your body is quite beyond any control is far more frightening than a whipping.
After a few minutes, and in response to a growl from Madam that I should ‘get on with it’ I began licking up the shaft, investigating the barbell and then moving up again until I could lick around the strange piercing at the slit of the helm which emerged from the underside of the urethra itself - a Prince Albert as I subsequently found out - and finally I stretched my mouth open to its fullest extent and let my lips close softly over the whole of the polished roundness of the helm itself while my tongue flicked at the slit and tasted the metal of the piercing. I got the softest of groans from Danny as I did so and began to relax - I was doing okay. Even though he obviously had permission to come in my mouth, he held out for quite some time, but at last he grabbed two fistfuls of my hair and began bucking his hips at me and ramming my face down onto him simultaneously. I dug my hands hard into his buttocks and tried to ready myself for his ejaculation even as I felt him begin to slide right into my throat at each thrust. I tried to relax but then suddenly I felt that tell-tale swelling of the urethra and he erupted. That’s the only word I can find for it. It was as if he was manufacturing sperm at the same rate at which he was discharging it. At first I took my usual pleasure in having stimulated a man to orgasm in my mouth but as fast as I swallowed he pumped more into me. Once again he reduced me to panic; I began to make muffled squeals of fear as he held my face down onto him and my throat worked overtime but the panic tightened it and slowed the swallows down. His shaft filled my mouth and I had no choice but to choke through my nostrils so that the salty emission splattered out onto him as I snorted and coughed while spurt after spurt splashed out into the tight little cave of my mouth.
I must have made a pretty picture of defeated femininity when he finally let me go. I was laced with crop marks and had bright red patches from the flogger all over my back, my breasts were striped with thin, livid welts, my vulva was reamed raw and sperm dripped from my chin and face. I just lay in a heap while Janet was summoned to lick up what I had spilt and then Danny picked me up - still without a word having passed between us - and took me to bed in the spare room. And still Madam hadn’t finished with us.
Janet was chained down first, spread out on her back then I was laid down on top of her face down and chained in exactly the same way. Then the two dominants left us and took Danny with them - it was the only blessing we were granted. I was totally exhausted and in desperate need of sleep, but Janet was just plain desperate. She had only been permitted one climax all night and had had to watch me being fucked unconscious. She heaved and squirmed and moaned under me, squashing our boobs together and trying to grind her pubic mound against mine. All I could do was let her lick my face to get the last of Danny’s ‘slave spunk’ off and then I fell into a light sleep despite Janet. My last thought was that surely, surely this time I had plumbed the depths of sex slavery. It comforted me enough to allow me to sleep, but of course I was wrong.
By noon of the following day I was back at home, had had a long wallow in a hot, foam filled bath and was feeling a little better - even a touch proud of myself. After all it is not every girl who gets to be screwed into oblivion by a stallion like Danny, even if it is terrifying at the time, and the various floggings had been satisfactorily painful. I could admire now the mesh of thin stripes across my breasts and feel proud of having endured it. Ben would be proud of me.
