Mastering Jacqueline

by Jordan Church

  When she wailed, the slave, obviously sympathetic to her situation, craned her neck as much forward as she could to relieve the terrible pressure. Gratefully, Fishy recovered her self-control to continue with her original intent. She wanted to give this slave some pleasure. She twisted and rocked her body to get her mouth directly over that hot disfigured pussy.

  Fishy licked delicately at the pierced clitoris poking out above the stretched flap of labia. She wanted to give satisfaction but worried the clitoris was too sore from the piercing. She flicked the metal loop through it rapidly with her tongue and the slave stiffened with agonized pleasure. Why had Fishy worried? A slave here, like this, would obviously be an extreme masochist.

  Fishy put her tongue confidently to work poking and swabbing that pulsing nubbin. Her vigorous attack got results. The slave thrust her pelvis up clumsily as well as she could, bouncing Fishy’s head and causing harsher collisions between head and crotch.

  The jouncing caused Fishy’s open mouth to make contact with the studs and loops of metal lining the poor slave’s pussy. Fishy’s teeth clicked on the bits of metal and she had the odd thought she was glad she didn’t wear braces. Her teeth might have gotten stuck! The goofy thought made her pussy blaze with renewed lust. She’d be stuck, face in pussy, until someone, anyone, showed up to do whatever they wanted to the two restrained women. Treating them both like naughty shameful slaves needing punishment. Oh my, Fishy thought she was going to come again, maybe even before the needy slave did for the first time.

  The unknown slave craned her neck forward and back with as much strength as she could muster. The effort caused the pink rubber dildo to work several inches over and over in and out of Fishy’s stretched flushed pussy. Fishy realized the aroused slave was now truly participating in the sex play. The thought caused a stronger flow of juices, most of which were funneling through the portion of the grille over the slave’s entrapped chin. They were both working hard just like two slaves equally striving for satisfaction during “slave exercise”. Fishy doubted Sharer and Swampy could be having as much fun in their room with each other.

  Fishy knew what she wanted to make it all perfect by the moment of mutual orgasm. It would be difficult but once she had the thought she knew she had to try to make it happen. That stifled slave pussy bouncing her face smelled incredible. Her senses were all so involved and attuned, all except her sense of taste. Fishy wanted to be completely immersed.

  She struggled to keep her mouth clear of the pussy for a second, “Oh, oh, keep pushing that cock in my pussy! But hold still down here. I need to do something. No wiggling. “

  The slave obeyed immediately, stilling her pelvis while driving the dildo with her head with renewed vigor.

  Fishy licked delicately up and down the stretched fold and worked dollops of saliva into each of the tiny wounds caused by the piercing the slave had endured. It gave the slave some measure of relief while raising her passion.

  Fishy carefully got her teeth gripped on one loop ring. It was so hard to maintain her concentration with the sliding dildo thrilling her. She turned her head slightly to one side and up. The move succeeded in getting the teardrop loop of metal off the metal stud it was hooked on. The slave paused all movement a second, moaned in pleased realization, and then renewed her head thrusts powerfully.

  One by one, Fishy performed the same little freeing trick with each of the remaining three studs and rings.

  She nosed and tongued the labia lips back into a normal position and then used her tongue to split the pussy lips wide open. The slave made a series of odd little happy sounds, like stifled coos, that further thrilled Fishy. The pussy gaped and a torrent of musky fluid slid out and ran down into the slave’s ass crack, then mostly soaked into the bedding.

  Fishy thought the fluids smelled odd. In fact…

  She cautiously scooped some into her mouth with her tongue, rolled them around and savored them. It wasn’t just pussy juice! There was a load of sperm mixed in with it making a musky cocktail. Fishy was surprised but her lust forbid her from rejecting the polluted mixture. Perhaps this was the real surprise the tattoo indicated?

  Fishy put her mouth back to work trying to collect all of the exotic mix she could get. Her chin rolled the slave’s clitoris as she angled her mouth and it resulted in pleasing wavering moans.

  Fishy didn’t realize the slave had been holding back until the pleasures Fishy inflicted spurred the trapped head to start thrusting that dildo awkwardly again. At the same time the slave relaxed her flexed ass muscles and her pussy flowered further open. The slave slut had been holding out on her! Why? Oh, Fishy thought she understood. The slave knew her pussy was holding a load of sperm and must have been mortified when she realized Fishy was freeing it. Still, what the hell did the slut care anyway? It was Fishy doing all the come consumption. Come-sumption. Fishy smiled a moment against the woman’s wet mess and then went back to trying to drive her wanton.

  The slave arched a little in passion instead of resistance and her belly tensed causing more rivulets of come to run down between her legs. Damn! That come was being wasted. Fishy forged a seal with her lips around the woman’s nether lips and then sucked hard. She extracted a mouthful of come and the flaps of the woman’s inner lips were in Fishy’s mouth for a suctioned moment before Fishy sucked them clean and spat them out.

  Several things happened at once. As the needy lust of both women expanded impossibly Fishy’s hair flipped over to pool between the slave’s thighs as she sucked her pussy. The tickling contact accentuated the slave’s arousal and Fishy’s knowledge that her hair was pooled in mixed secretions, soaking them up, spiked her twisted lust. Just then the passionate slaves heard the door to the suite buzz unlocked and heard someone step in. The knowledge that whoever it was must be watching their antics drove them both into thunderous climaxes muffled by ball gag dildo and hot thighs. They were long deep orgasms.

  Fishy just wanted to lay exhausted with her face and hair in the puddle of juices but several slow claps of appreciation forced her to look up and confront the sight of their one person audience. She expected this would be her releaser and she would be able to rest at last at home, jobless but free of this dreamy nightmare.

  Chapter 11

  It was Wayne Jones.

  “My compliments on a fine show. “

  Fishy’s first instinct was to try to gain some physical composure and cover herself but she stopped the effort before she even started. He’d seen everything, his avid eyes were enjoying the fluid smears on her face, there was no point in trying to hide now. She saw Jones wore a casual suit, leather shoes and all. It was odd to see him dressed and free.

  He obviously noticed her noticing, “Now that my collection of release papers is assembled I am dressed and ready to go. Freedom will be sweet. At least for me. Bitter for some others I’m sure. “

  “Gloating? Hardly royal behavior, King Jones. “Jackie’s sarcasm was her only armor against him.

  “I suppose any conquering king, to the defeated, must appear to be merely gloating when he savors the victory. “

  Fishy flopped around clumsily, trying to get off the slave despite her hands cuffed behind her. It caused her body to slip and slide all over the slave’s sweaty form. The sound of Jones stepping closer added urgency to her struggles.

  He spoke appraisingly, “If only you could see yourself, Fishy. I wonder if friends and family could even recognize you. Would your old self recognize you? “

  Jones rested one hand firmly on her lower back effectively pinning the weakly exhausted Fishy on the slave’s lax form. Fishy panted, in part from the struggle and in part still from her tremendous orgasm. She felt panic. Was Jones not going to let her go? His words did effect her. She envisioned how she must look. What would Jacqueline Thorpe have thought? Wait a minute, wasn’t she…

  “Fishy! Pay attention, Fishy. “
Wayne Jones’ abrupt tone shocked Fishy back to herself.

  “Are you going to release me? “

  She felt him working on her handcuffs and her hands were quickly, strangely, free.

  “Of course. You’ll need your hands free. “

  He backed away from the bed and she finally managed to dismount the dildo-helmeted slave and stand trembling.

  “Is it just my hands free or is it all of me free? “

  “Ah, well, that is going to be up to you. Free will is a fine thing in theory but can easily, oh too easily, backfire. It’s a dangerous weapon much more likely to wound the owner than help her -- sort of like a loaded handgun on a bed stand. You own it, now, but you don’t have to keep it. You could hand it over to me. “

  “What? “

  “You could disarm yourself. “

  “I already refused to sign that agreement to be committed. I’ve won, you’ve lost. At least, on that score. “

  “You haven’t heard my best offer yet. I’ve won my freedom but I have yet to win your freedom. I don’t yet feel like a completely conquering king. Wouldn’t you admit you also don’t feel victorious? “

  “I had to free you. You’re sane. I had to try to free Sharer and Swampy. Now that I know they’re willing -- whether that makes sense or not -- it is no longer my goal. Now I’ll be free of this place and of you. I guess it worked out. “

  “Little Fishy, you only think so, but, not yet. You are fooled for the moment by the pleasing orgasm you just experienced. What happens when the need, the lust, returns, as it will, stronger and stronger with no real means of satisfaction? What then? Also, aren’t you concerned about the plan for revenge I’ve mentioned in the past? Aren’t you feeling guilty about all the other women I’ll subjugate now that you’ve allowed my release? Guilty and perhaps a bit jealous as well? “

  “I suppose neither of us gets total victory. “

  “It does not have to be that way, Fishy. One of us can have total lasting delightful victory… if the other embraces total defeat. “

  “I don’t picture you surrendering to me. “

  “Of course not, Fishy. “

  “Well, I won’t surrender to you either. “

  “It would be best if you did and I’m sure you want to but you don’t have the courage. “

  She was silent. It would be impossible to persuade him different, especially when she wasn’t as sure as she’d like to be. What would happen when she went home and the thoughts and needs returned and built and built, water gathering behind a dam, with no release gate?

  Jones made his offer.

  “I suggest a simple wager that would appear to be tilted completely in your favor. I know you feel guilty for my release, guilty for your sexual behavior, and fearful of having no set role in the future. I am a compassionate king. Here is what I offer:I read a minion’s report that mentions you have an intelligent and beautiful neighbor. I’ll tell you what. If at any point in time you have any sort of sex with her you must agree to indefinite commitment here at the Goethner-Varner Mental Health Hospital. Did I mention I’m renaming it The Institute of Submission? Sexual acts with your neighbor means for you the complete and absolute loss of free will for all time. If that situation takes place at any point in time you will voluntarily sign your own commitment and you will be my slave forever and ever and ever. Until that takes place I will remain here incarcerated and I will not take any revenge on anyone, and neither me nor my minions -- at least, not at my command -- will seduce and corrupt or enslave any more slaves. Doesn’t that sound like a great deal for you? “

  Yes, it did, but it seemed curiously easy.

  “Well, Fishy, will you take me up on this once in a lifetime deal? “

  She stood naked, hot, tired, and damp all over. She couldn’t just… leave. If she did, she would forever know she was at least partly to blame for all the imaginative wrongs Wayne Jones committed. The deal was easy. Her neighbor Melissa was extremely pretty and Fishy now knew she enjoyed lesbian encounters after all but it would be easy to steer clear of Melissa. There were, as they said, plenty of fish in the sea. Wait, what if they somehow forced her to have sex with Melissa?

  “What if you force me or something? “

  “No, only of your own free will at any point in time. Just to be clear, sex to completion between you and her and no threats either. “

  “So, not that I would, but I could just make out with herand it wouldn’t count against the bet? “

  “Correct. “

  She had to take this offer and they both knew it. Jones knew this was the exact right bait for this species.

  Fishy heard a muffled gurgled wail and she looked behind her at the helmeted slave twisting and bucking on the bed. What was her problem? She still wanted sex, already? The desperate whines increased in volume.

  Jones was clearly irked. He pressed the intercom button, “Send Sharer and Swampy in here to deal with this slave. Specifically, the slave on the bed. “

  In less than half a minute the women entered. By now the helmeted dildo-gagged slave was flexing her entire body back and forth, arching about.

  Sharer and Swampy each had a short thick whip and they immediately went to work blazing trails of fire all over the slave. The whip cracks and the muffled screams rose to a crescendo and Fishy and Jones watched equally fascinated, waiting for the uproar to conclude so they could finish their conversation.

  Fishy was curiously unsympathetic to the slave’s plight. She’d brought this on herself, should have known she’d get a whipping out of it, probably wanted one, definitely deserved one. This is what happened to slaves.

  When the volume died down to a mute pained silence save for the slave’s difficult breathing the two slave-converted Psychoanalysts set aside the whips and tenderly went to work instilling pleasure into the abused slave’s body. Moans of hellish pain, then protest and denial, gradually evolved into passionate gusty intakes of air.

  “Where were we, Fishy? “

  She took a deep breath, felt out of her depth, felt like she was drowning in open air.

  “Agreed. “

  “Good, Fishy. From his suit jacket Jones pulled out a fancy ballpoint pen and several papers. He handed them to her and she reluctantly grasped them, refusing to look.

  “There you are. Go ahead and sign it. I so command. “

  Her eyes widened with horror. He seemed so casually confident. How could he be so confident? She finally looked down. There they were. The same papers Swampy and Sharer tried to make her sign. Two forms putting Carol Milligan and Shara Tillings in charge of all decisions regarding her and another form that, if signed, she would specifically agree to indefinite -- almost certainly everlasting -- commitment and incarceration in the Institute of Submission.

  “I’m not going to sign it until after I have sex with Melissa. You just want me to hang onto these until then? I may as well throw them away since I’ll make sure that never happens. “

  “No. Sign them. “

  “Never! “

  “Always, my little Fishy, always. While you think about it go ahead and release that impassioned slave over there you just had sex with fifteen minutes ago. She looks aroused from Sharer’s and Swampy’s fine efforts but also oh so uncomfortable. Have mercy on her. Go ahead and free her to experience other levels of her slavery. “

  Puzzled but feeling tremendous foreboding Fishy turned to her assigned task. She was highly aware of the anticipatory eyes of Jones, Swampy, and Sharer upon her.

  Undid the straps of leather tying down the ankles. That horrible tattoo on the slave’s knee. So fresh and raw…

  Released the tension on the rope stretched across the slave’s trim tummy. The slave’s muscles were toned and tight, the complexion of her skin glowing healthily despite the sweat and streaks of smeared e
ssences. The body of a young woman….

  Fumbled a bit and then finally undid each of the strapped cuffs imprisoning the young woman’s arms to her sides. Fishy’s eyes darted to that flushed, mutilated, and wet-with-need pussy. It was wide open, still unpinned. For a surreal moment Fishy wondered if she should stretch the labia lip across and reconnect the teardrop rings to the studs. Those pierce holes were all so fresh…

  As the slave sat up the slick pink dildo poking out from the mouth of her mask bounced wildly. The slave turned, resigned and eager, so Fishy could, with some difficulty, undo all the straps and buckles holding the dildo helmet in place. She lifted it off and dropped the foul thing. Blonde hair…

  Melissa’s wet puffy face whipped around, “I tried to tell you! “

  Fishy backed away. She tried to get her heart rate under control. She tuned to Wayne Jones half-defiant and half-appealing, “No, no, no. We just made the agreement. I had sex with her before the agreement and not since. This changes nothing. Right? “

  “Fishy, you are so adoringly naive. I specifically stated ‘at any point in time’. I used that phrase three times to make sure to give you a fair chance to note that phrase. A ‘point in time’ can be either in the future or in the past. The past is an impossibly long series of points in a time. At one of those ‘points in time’, about fifteen minutes before our agreement, you had sex with your neighbor here. Your past and future neighbor! I’ve won in totality. I now reign supreme over your life, all your activities, your future, your soul. “

  “No! It was a trick! “

  “Tricks count, Fishy. They count best of all. “

  “I… I can’t sign this. . . “

  “You can’t not. The agreement was recorded on video. Refuse and the video goes to all the news outlets. Your family and everyone who ever met you will see it. More than that, I’ll make it a point to find and seduce, tame and enslave, any and all attractive females among your friends and family. Sharing your DNA, no doubt they have submissive tendencies as well. “