by Argus
She stared, cross-eyed, at the long shaft of the dildo. It looked very real and as it pushed forward, she sucked even more thirstily. It gave out little moisture, but some, as she sucked, and her parched mouth and throat sucked down every greedy drop. Then the light went out, it went away, the buzzing stopped and she was left hanging.
Moaning softly. She stared at herself in the mirror, disbelief swirling again at how her wrists and ankles had been gathered up together and bound to the chain, her hair pulled back as well, until she hung there, bobbing and turning gently, breasts hanging down.
More time passed. She had no idea how much. Then the soft yellow glow reappeared, and the glistening dildo caressed her lips. She opened them and sucked on it as it slid in. The buzzing of the vibrator started again between her legs. She started to expect it, to brace herself for the initial discomfort, for her clit ached, and then the strange, quivering sensations.
This happened repeatedly through the night – or through the day. She had no idea which. She never was able to suck more than a little water down, but any water was better than none.
And then the light appeared again, and the dildo slid into her mouth. She sucked thirstily, licking and moaning as her lips closed around it. The dildo pushed in and out slowly as she felt the now familiar buzzing against her sex. Yet something was different, and she slowly realized that this wasn't a dildo but a man's cock.
But that hardly mattered. It had been dipped in water, perhaps, and was soaking wet. She sucked, she licked, and when it seemed dryer, it was taken back, then pushed forward, wet once again. She fixated on it, sucking and licking as it pushed into the back of her mouth.
There was much more liquid, this time. Her mouth was finally able to moisten, and the water trickled slowly but insistently down her throat. Then the cock pushed down after it and she moaned weakly around it as her face was pressed into someone's groin. She felt no urge to gag, and merely stared dully at the dark fabric of someone's trousers until the cock slid back out.
It withdrew and she felt her body shift, felt herself being lowered. She groaned as her breasts came into contact with the rug, as her body slowly came down atop them, as the pressure finally eased on her wrists, ankles and then her hair.
“Would the slave like more water?”
Hannah couldn't speak at first, then gasped out a yes, her voice weak and gravelly.
Hands gripped her hips, raising her bottom, and positioned her knees under her.
“Up. Up,” the voice insisted, accompanied by sharp, stinging blows to her buttocks that forced her into obedience.
Then... nirvana! A bowl of water was placed on the floor before her! Hannah jerked her wrists against the restraints still looking them behind, then angled her head slowly forward, trying to put her weight on her shoulders. She was exhausted, but thirst was a powerful motivator, and she managed to get her lips and tongue into the bowl to raggedly slurp down its contents.
Hands lifted her up and carried her out of the room. She squinted against the light, moaning. She was carried into a large bathroom, and then into a large bathtub filled with warm water. She wasn't alone in it. O'Neil sat in it and held her in his arms across his lap. The water was up to her chest, and he gently bathed her, whispering softly into her ear, calling her a lovely slave girl.
Chapter Seven
She woke. She hadn't remembered falling asleep, but Hannah suddenly felt alert, staring up at the ceiling overhead. She was on a bed, a soft bed, but it had no sheets, blankets or pillows, and she was bound to the four corners. She was neither gagged nor blindfolded. Her body ached all over, but she wasn't in any actual pain.
All of which was a vast improvement on her previous state, she thought weakly.
But she was still helpless and firmly bound in place.
This time she didn't have to wait long. The door opened, and O'Neil was there dressed in a very expensively tailored suit.
“Ah, the slave awakens. Would the slave like something to eat?”
“Y-Yes,” she said in a weak croak.
“Yes, master,” he said.
She blinked at him uncertainly, her mind still half asleep. “Yes, master,” she whispered.
“Louder, slave.”
“Yes, master.”
“You will have to work for your food, slave.”
He walked over to the bed and undid the chains binding her ankles down. He undid her wrists, as well, and for the first time in a while, Hannah was unbound. She groaned and sat up slowly, bending arms and legs with relief.
As with the other room, the floor was highly polished hardwood. There was a rug placed in a large open area, and O'Neil, holding a thin crop or switch, pointed at it.
“On your knees, slave.”
Grunting with effort, gasping with the pain of strained muscles, Hannah slid out of bed and onto the floor. She felt more awake than she had in a while now, but her stomach grumbled angrily, and she knelt quickly in hopes he would get to the food part.
“This is a test in obedience. If you obey promptly, you will be rewarded. If you fail or hesitate, you will experience pain.”
That sounded both hopeful and ominous. Hannah looked at him anxiously.
“Keep your back straight at all times,” he directed. “Ease your heels out from under your buttocks. You can't maintain that position for very long. That's right. Spread your legs wider. Wider, slave,” he ordered. “You will have to become more limber. Hands on your outer thighs, facing up. Head back. Do not look at me, slave. Look past me.”
She obeyed, her stomach rumbling. She had no idea what this was in aid of, but it was easy enough to do, and certainly less painful than most of the positions he'd had her in of late.
“Now, you will lean forward as you bring your arms up and then down and kneel on all fours. Keep your head up and and back straight.”
Again, Hannah obeyed, on her hands and knees, her neck aching a little as she looked forward.
“Allow your hands to slide forward on the rug until your upper chest is against the floor, but keep your bottom high, and spread your knees apart.”
Again she obeyed, grunting as her breasts pillowed out beneath her. A slap by the crop across her bottom stung as he moved behind and ordered her knees wider.
“You must keep your upper legs at a ninety degree angle from your body, but spread out to either side, the bottom raised high, the sex open and inviting,” he said.
As he spoke, he let the tip of the crop slide up and down against Hannah's pussy, and she felt a flickering of sensation, both pleasant and unpleasant, for she was still sore down there.
Eroticism took a back seat to hunger at this point, however, and she simply wished to get this over with.
“Take care to remember these positions, slave, for you will be required to repeat them often. Once you are directed to assume a position you will assume it and not move from it until directed. Is that clear?”
“Yes, master,” she said softly.
He had her slide back up to all fours, then back on her heels, or off them, as it were, then went through them all again, and then again, as her stomach grumbled.
The door opened, and the middle aged woman she'd seen before appeared, with a plate of something she handed to O'Neil. The woman looked at her, sniffed, then withdrew and closed the door.
She had no idea what was on the plate but her mouth started to water as O'Neil pulled a chair over before her and sat down.
He did not set it on the floor for her to eat, as she half suspected he would. Instead he plucked a piece of some kind of meat, dripping in sauce from the plate, held it up a bit, then extended his hand.
It took a flickering moment of indecision before she realized she was not to reach for it, not to take it, but merely open her mouth. She did so, and his fingers slipped inside. She closed her lips, and with barely a bite, she gulped down the food hungrily.
Another bit of meat followed, then another. Then O'N
eil ordered her to simply open her mouth wide. He tossed the next bit into her mouth, and Hannah was too hungry to care. She gulped it down, and the next, but he missed with the next and she scooped it off the floor and popped it into her mouth.
He glowered at her and stood.
“Did I give you permission to move?” he demanded.
Hannah felt a sudden jolt of anxiety. “No, master!” she gulped.
Looking darkly at her, he moved to dresser and opened it, then drew a long, slim strap and moved behind her. He squatted behind her.
“Arms behind your back,” he snapped.
She obeyed, and felt the looped strap go around her arms above her elbows. It circled and circled, drawing her elbows back tighter and further, until her shoulders began to ache. She groaned as she felt the leather tightening around her arms both above and below her elbows, then her elbows themselves were pressed together, her shoulders burning.
He came around in front of her again, frowning.
“You do not move once placed in a position, slave. This has been explained to you!”
“I-I'm sorry, Ma – .”
He slapped her face, and she gasped, her head thrown to one side, almost unbalanced. But the slap was not hard enough to knock her off her knees, despite her surprise.
“You do not speak unless asked a question. I am not interested in your apologies. Place your face to the floor now!”
That was awkward given her arms bound so securely behind her back. Hannah grunted as she fell forward in a somewhat controlled fashion, to land on her right shoulder. She rolled to her left, grunting again as she spread her knees.
“No. Keep your knees together, bottom raised.”
She obeyed, and saw him pick up the crop with a sense of anxiety.
“Any deviation from your orders will be punished,” he said.
The crop snapped down across her buttocks and Hannah cried out at the sharp, stinging pain.
“You will learn to obey,” he said.
Crack!
“You will learn your place.”
Crack!
“You will learn your true nature.”
Crack!
“You will become a slave in mind and body and soul.”
Crack!
She gasped as she felt him twining her hair around his fist. She half expected the pull and tried to rise, but the majority of the force came from his pull on her hair as he drew her up and back onto her heels.
“Resume your previous position, slave,” he ordered.
Panting, her bottom hot and aching, Hannah quickly knelt again, back straight, heels beside her buttocks as he sat down with the plate once more.
He held out his fingers and she licked the food off it, desperately relieved that her punishment did not include continued hunger.
Sometimes he held the bit of meat, rather like a small meatball, in the palm of his hand and had her lick it off. Sometimes he held it in his fingers and let her lick it form there. Sometimes he tossed it into her open mouth. Hannah didn't really care so long as she got to eat it.
When the plate was done he pulled her to her feet but the hair and led her into an ensuite bathroom. There he filled a cup with water and let her drink from it. Then he brushed her teeth, and wiped her lips when done.
He led her back into the other room and knelt her before the chair, then pulled off his trousers and shorts and sat down.
“Please me, slave,” he said.
There was such an arrogance to his words that it left her momentarily breathless. Then came a sense of outrage a sense of indignation, and a squirming sense of heat at the sight of his full, thick cock. Still, she knew she had no choice. There was no point even thinking about whether to do as he ordered. She briefly considered whether his order allowed her to move, decided it did, and then cautiously rose off her heels and leaned forward between his legs.
“Slowly, slave. Take your time. Impress me, or you'll taste the crop again.”
Hannah felt a jolt of anxiety, and licked her lips, then licked lightly along the base of his cock.
“Start at a distance and work your way in, slave,” he said.
She licked at his thigh instead, rubbing her cheek against it, then rubbed her cheek against his cock and balls, letting her lips brush over them. She had given lap dances often enough, and considered that her face could simply substitute, to some degree, for her buttocks. She rubbed herself against him, her mouth sometimes open, sometimes closed. She let her tongue slide out only a little, then more, licking at his belly, at his abdomen.
She used her face to push his cock up and back. The feel of the soft yet hard flesh against her skin made her pussy throb hungrily, and she took one of his balls into her mouth, sucking on it, licking it, feeling the deepening sense of erotic hunger starting to affect her mind. She drew the other one in, using her lips and mouth and tongue to massage him. Finally, she licked at the base of his cock, letting her tongue trail slowly up its length until she could suck the head into her mouth.
He brought his hand down on his bare thigh and she rolled her eyes up.
“You will raise your head when I seek your attention.”
Hannah obediently leaned up and back.
“What are you?”
She looked at him in confusion.
“You are a slave. Say it.”
“I-I am a slave... master.”
“Again.”
“I am a slave, master.”
“Again.”
“I am a slave, master.”
“Continue, slave.”
She leaned in and took his cock between her lips, sliding her lips slowly down, drawing it in across her tongue and deeper into her mouth. She licked and sucked at it as her lips bobbed up and down, then drew her mouth off and began licking at his balls again. She let her cheek and face rub back and forth against him, kissing it along the shaft, then at the head, drawing it back into her mouth once more.
Rarely did the men she performed oral sex on want her to draw it out. Their need was immediate and urgent, or if it wasn't when she started it certainly became that way very soon. O'Neil was clearly in no hurry. And Hannah found herself enjoying the oral sex, aroused herself by her own actions, by her own helplessness, by her sense of sexual slavery.
Hannah took a while before increasing the force of her gentle licking and sucking, and before forcing her lips lower. By the time she felt him slipping into her throat and forced her lips all the way down to the base, she was becoming a little anxious at his lack of visible response.
Most men she had known would have been groaning and demanding more by now, or pulling her up to fuck her. O'Neil simply watched her. His rigid cock was the only sign that he was aroused.
Of course, it was a fairly obvious sign.
She held her lips in place as long as she could, then slowly drew her head up, sucking as she did, until the head popped out of her throat and into her mouth. She drew herself off and then resumed licking and sucking at his balls, but sucking harder now, then licked her way up the underside of his cock, using her lips to massage the shaft until she could take the head back into her mouth.
She slipped back down its length again in stages, bobbing up and down on the first third, then taking the second third, then the whole thing, somewhat proud of herself that she was able to bob her lips up and down without gagging while he was inside her throat. She sucked harder, licking faster as the head came into her mouth, and was relieved when she finally felt her mouth filling with liquid.
There was little other sign in O'Neil that he had come, but then his hand came down on her head and forced her slowly down the length of his cock until he was buried in her. He held her there for long seconds as she felt him soften and shrink, then pulled her off.
“Adequate,” he said. “But you will have to learn more proficiency. I will have someone teach you.”
Hannah frowned indignantly and then gasped at a slap to the
cheek. As before, it stung, and knocked her head aside, but mostly by surprise. It was not strong enough to leave a bruise.
“You express disapproval, slave? You express unhappiness? A slave expresses neither. A slave expresses only her enthusiasm to please her master in any way she is permitted to do so.”
“Face to the floor,” he said, getting up.
Hannah fell on her shoulders again, raising her bottom as he brought the crop whistling down onto her buttocks. She cried out softly at the sting, then again, and again, and again as ten sharp blows landed on her soon-burning bottom.
“Make no attempt to ever reprove your master, slave,” he warned sternly. “You are no longer permitted such thoughts or feelings. You are no longer human. You are something less than human. An animal, perhaps: a pet.”
He drew her back up to her knees by the hair.
“You have much to learn, slave. Spread your legs wide.”
Moaning, she obeyed, but instead of another blow she felt his fingers against her, then felt herself being penetrated. His fingers were slippery with something as they slid up into her pussy, dipping in and out, then pushing more deeply as she felt her mind starting to squirm with a newly risen heat.
His fingers withdrew, but something else pushed forward, a dildo, she guessed, moaning as it filled her and was driven deeper. Then his fingers were at her back passage, and then another dildo pushed deep, achingly deep inside her.
“Do you hear me, sex slave?”
“Y-Yes, master,” she panted.
She felt him undo her arms and groaned as they came free.
“You will put your arms underneath you, sliding your hands back down past your belly. Do it now, slave.”
Hannah obeyed, gulping as she felt the snap of the crop, but more lightly.
“Legs wide apart, slave. Remember what you are. You're a sex slave. You're a randy little slut who wants a cock inside her.”
Hannah flushed at the words.