by Dan Bruce
Despite the poor light, the new man didn’t remove his sunglasses. He placed Emily’s Chanel bag on the washbasin then crossed his arms menacingly and stood back. Emily didn’t like the look of him at all as she eyed him warily. A chug on her leash brought her attention back to Her Nemesis.
“My friend would like to see you fully naked, Blondie. Take off your clothes and show him your body. Strip slowly – we’re in no rush,” he told her.
The tears flowed anew down Emily’s face. They weren’t quiet tears. They were accompanied by sobs and hiccups. Emily raised her hands up in protest and shook her head, the poor woman a mass of upset and confusion. She had accepted a return, accepted a repeat... accepted that she wanted all this. Now that she’d seen him again and smelled his manly aroma, Emily yearned to be taken and used once again... But not like this! Not something to be shared with a scary looking stranger. Hades stood quietly staring at her, his face expressionless like a death mask, whilst Her Nemesis scrunched up his ruggedly handsome features, furious at Emily’s continued defiance.
SMACK!
The back handed blow sent Emily’s head spinning, her cheek suddenly aching, adrenalin pumping into her system.
“Do as I tell you,” screeched the man in Emily’s face, flecking her with spit as he bawled out the words. “And stop all this snivelling – I’ve heard enough of your pathetic whinging.”
“I’m sorry,” Emily bleated, wiping her tears.
SMACK!
Emily hissed in a breath as the man’s hand struck powerfully across her other cheek.
“You’re forgetting your manners, Blondie. What did I tell you to call me?”
“Master,” Emily sobbed, unable to obey part of the command. She wiped her eyes again, and stroked her flushing cheeks, feeling the heat of Her Master’s slaps. And right at that moment, if there had ever been a doubt, Emily knew she was totally hooked. Her heart was racing and her clit was throbbing, thrilled by the dominance and surety of the man. Her pussy was pulsating, gagging for a fucking, so needy for Her Master to take her and give her those hours of rutting he had promised.
“That’s right, Blondie!” snarled the man, emphasising the point. “You’re my bitch and I’m your Master. Now before you strip, kiss my boots. Lick them, Blondie. Show my friend what an obedient bitch you are. Kiss my boots then lick them. Lick them all over like a faithful dog.”
This was so much more humiliating than the previous occasion. Being smacked and ordered about was degrading enough, but to have someone present to witness the indignity was hideous for Emily. And to be treated like a dog – the bitch that she had become - was another added layer of crushing mortification. Yet Emily did as she was told, perversely excited to be here again and have all her dignity stripped away – to be an obedient slave, used and abused, and hopefully get fucked good and hard at the end, which in the depths of her depravity was what Emily craved.
Pulling herself together, slowly accepting her disgusting nature, Emily placed her hands upon the damp cement floor that reeked of male urine. She bowed her head at Her Master’s feet and kissed the top of each of his boots. She shuddered to think of what a sight it must look – this act of submission, the ultimate in deference – to kiss a man’s feet. Every social bone in her well bred body was screaming in repugnance, yet Emily continued to obey Her Master, revolted, but thrilled beyond measure as her tongue flicked out to lick the black boots, tasting the dust of the street and the office along with the tobacco like tang of the leather.
One boot then the other was washed all over, Emily getting ever more excited, panting out her lust as she lashed the leather, sniffing and nuzzling, rubbing her head against Her Master’s legs, truly a bitch now brought to heel.
“That’s more like it, Blondie,” Her Master finally said, satisfied with the worship and the obedience being shown. “Now be a good bitch and do the same for my friend. Drag your tongue over to him – taste the floor.”
Layer after layer! How much could she endure? To lick the floor that stank of piss. Would the depths of her depravity know no end? A voice of sanity was screaming in Emily’s head: ‘Stand up and tell them to go fuck themselves!’ But this cock loving submissive had already lost that battle, totally enslaved, body and soul, defeated by Her Nemesis who had renewed his claim to mastery, and by the simple little word ‘need’.
Her stomach twisted when her tongue made the contact – the hard cement floor rough and damp, pungent and acrid. Emily thought she might be sick, it was so disgusting. Trailing her tongue, she fought another battle, and this one she won – holding down the bile and vomit in her stomach as she inched her way the yard or so to where another pair of boots, fine and expensive, waited for her attention.
Emily performed her duty and licked the footwear, less enthusiastically, but she still made a good show – doing what Her Master ‘needed’ her to do. Five minutes of humiliation that was enjoyed by all. Then it was time for Emily to get naked. It was time for her to get fucked and thoroughly abused – another little chore that was apparently ‘needed’ – for reasons that would be made known in the fullness of time, but for now her role was to blindly obey.
Chapter 4
Kneeling on the wet floor between the guest of honour and Her Master, Emily’s hands were shaking as she began to strip. First she took off her bolero jacket, pragmatically folded it neatly and placed it on the floor to her side. Next came the blouse. It took her several tries to unbutton the thing, but she was finally able to loosen the garment. It slid off her shoulders easily, and again got folded and added to the jacket. It was at this point the new man got involved in the action – he picked the garments up, stroked the warm silk blouse like a pampered cat, before placing the clothing on top of Emily’s bag. An odd piece of consideration, but continentals can be funny like that.
Feeling a little better towards this stranger who was destined to screw her and do God knows what else, Emily removed her bra slowly, taking her time, obeying Her Nemesis Master by prolonging the process. Both men watched patiently as she finally bared her treasures: two beautiful creamy orbs that were full and pert, crowned with coral coloured nipples that were shamefully fat and painfully sensitive. On seeing their glory, the Italian let out a groan – a rare sign of appreciation that Her Nemesis picked up on.
“Play with them, Blondie! Put on a show and include the shade thing – you know what I mean.”
Emily knew all right! It had been one of his earliest taunts during their weird courtship in the elevator, guessing a closely guarded secret that the shade of her lipstick matched the colour of her nipples. Deeply thrilled by the memory, Emily caressed her left breast, massaging the flesh before pinching the hard nipple, making herself moan with the self inflicted pain that was all the more delicious because it had been ordered by Her Master. Then she repeated the trick she had performed the last time she was here: raised the tit to her bowing head and kissed the hurting bud. As she did so she raised her eyes to the stranger – sapphire blue eyes that sparkled through drying tears, eyes that conveyed a fearful acceptance: I’m doing this for you because My Master commands it. You can take what you want, but I’ll always be His.
There was a further few minutes of tit play, which Emily performed for the new man, putting on a good show, acting the wanton slut – playing the role she knew was needed. And Emily took strength from the knowledge she was providing him a service. It made her feel good. It made her feel shockingly horny. Then a cough from the stranger indicated enough – it was time to get on with the strip and show him another couple of treasure!
When it came to her skirt, Emily looked to Her Nemesis for guidance – should she stay kneeling or should she stand up to remove it. The man understood her quandary without any exchange of words, and with a firmly pointed finger instructed his bitch to remain where she was. Emily unfastened the zipper and shuffled down her skirt; then once at the knees she lifted one then the other so the skirt slipped under and she could slide it along the dirty wet floo
r. She took off her shoes and placed them beside the crumpled skirt. The quiet man collected them and added them to the attire on the Chanel bag at the basin.
Practically naked, Emily paused for a moment. The stranger was looking with hunger on his shaded face, and Emily could envisage the sight she portrayed: a trim slender body with generous curves; dressed in pearls and a collar with a leash; the last vestige of her modesty covered by a thong, the gusset of which was shamefully drenched and hiding a surprise that wasn’t meant to be shared.
With a tinge of regret but accepting her lot, Emily removed the thong, repeating the process she had performed with the skirt. With another groan of approval on seeing her exposed sex, the quiet man picked the skimpy thong up. But he did not add it to the rest of Emily’s clothing; instead he took a sniff, a dog smelling to check if the bitch was in heat. Then satisfied he placed the thong in his jacket pocket – a little souvenir of London for him to take back to Milan.
Emily observed all this out of the corner of her eye, not daring to look directly at the Italian for fear her boldness might offend. Her mind was elsewhere though, wondering and listening, hoping for some form of acknowledgement from Her Master. Over the weekend she had shaved the landing strip of pubic hair, supposedly as a treat for her husband Les, but Emily knew fine well she had done it for Her Master, wanting to please and entice him to use the part of her body he had promised to rut for hours. Nothing came, which was a bitter blow. Emily wondered if she’d made a mistake and would be punished instead for this piece of initiative. Life was so uncertain down here in the basement with a man that was impossible to fathom or read.
Silence ensued, a lull before the storm. Then a chug on her leash heralded the first roll of thunder. Emily’s Master motioned to the bench in the middle of the room and bade her to kneel on it. She crawled to the bench and slowly got on it, unsure of what was to follow.
She could have guessed!
With her eyes averted downward, focused on Her Nemesis’s feet, Emily only heard the sound of the zipper as a cock was released from it confines. She didn’t look up, although she was itching to gaze upon that beautiful phallus again. She heard sounds behind her – the new man now moving and approaching the bench, but there had been no suggestion that he had got out his cock. Emily found herself wondering what it would be like when he did - would it be in proportion to the rest of him – massive and foreboding. The notion both thrilled and terrified her.
Emily was dragged out of this reverie when she felt the new man’s groin rub against her bare ass, the swell of his covered erection pressing into Emily’s fleshy buns as he straddled the bench behind her. Emily gasped as she registered the mass that was there, all her fears and hopes apparently fulfilled; but her focus was again changed when the strong hands of Hades grasped the back of her head. One hand had fingers curled into her blonde hair, the other gripping the collar round her neck. He jerked Emily’s head up and brought her face to face with the familiar cock of Her Nemesis. Suddenly and brutally the throbbing member was pressed against Emily’s lips.
Emily opened her mouth instinctively as the thick hard cock pushed its way inside, giving her no time to react except to utter a muffled cry. The familiar ache in her jaw came back quickly, and she tried to still her tongue as it worked reflexively in an attempt to push the phallus from her mouth.
Her Nemesis stood absolutely still with his hands on his hips, but the hands that grasped Emily’s head and collar pushed her forward to engulf the big cock completely, forcing the length into her agonised throat and bringing fresh tears to Emily’s eyes. The fingers in her hair tugged, pulling her back quickly. The hand on her collar pushed Emily back on, effectively impaling her mouth again. Over and over, the big man behind her pushed and pulled, forcing Emily to fuck herself in the face with Her Master’s rigid cock.
She gagged and sputtered at first. The drool came easily and in copious amounts. Her hands instinctively came off the bench as she tried to control the violation of her face. A hard pull on her hair made her place them back down; Emily gripped at the sides of the bench to hold them in obedience.
Again and again she was pushed and pulled, repeatedly mouth fucked by her stationary Nemesis. She remembered being pummelled from the last time and struggled to relax her throat in order to take the invading organ deeper, and do so without retching and incurring Her Master’s wrath by vomiting on his trousers. It wasn’t easy.
This new plan of attack was just as brutal as the first time, only it was Emily’s head that was moving towards the man instead of his hips pounding against her. Back and forward she went, the harbinger repeatedly impaling Emily on the cock before her face. But after a few minutes, the hand gripping her collar was only rested there, and while the fingers still curled in her hair, Emily’s head was moving of its own accord. Her mouth slurped greedily at Her Master’s cock, and she was stunned to realise that she was doing so on her own.
Emily licked and sucked at the member fed to her. In her enthusiasm she moved her hands again, only this time the purpose was not to push away, but to find the man’s hips and pull him in so she could worship his dick all the better. The new man allowed her, loosening his grip even more on Emily’s collar and hair. Lost in her depraved lust, Emily’s tongue danced its way up and down Her Master’s length, dipping into his piss slit to taste the flowing pre-cum, hungry for this flavour that she still found offensive yet needed like an addictive drug.
“See what a slut she is for a big cock! The dirty whore is trying to get her tongue all the way down it. She’s trying to draw out my spunk. Well, if that’s what you want, Blondie, then that’s what you’ll get. I said I’d fire down your throat the next time.”
That brought Emily back to full alert. She had been enjoying acting like a cock slut, feasting on the meat, but having the man come in her mouth – that would be something else. Emily was horrified at the thought for she detested the taste of spunk, and she fought to try and prise the man away, but Hades was behind her holding her head firmly again. Her Nemesis started to pump in and out, gathering momentum with long lusty strokes. Emily could hear his groans as he humped at her throat - there would be no escape from her spunk tasting fate.
The exchange was made quickly. Her hair and collar were freed by the new man only to be captured a moment later by Emily’s Nemesis Master. He continued to pump his cock into her mouth, the head sliding down her throat making Emily retch and gag. It was an agonising torment, and the thought that he would soon fill her mouth with spunk made her forget about the new man for a moment. Then suddenly the Italian had her full attention...
CRACK!
The searing pain on her ass brought his presence back with a vengeance. He had removed his thick black leather belt, quietly as in all things, and brought it crashing down on Emily’s proffered buttocks. Emily jerked violently at the contact; she almost tumbled off the bench from the shock and burning ache. She gripped the bench again to steady herself and bear the assault at both ends of her body. Her Nemesis continued pumping - ramming his big cock down Emily’s throat; and the new man continued belting – delivering Emily another blow to her aching ass.
CRACK!
Emily screamed. The screech was muffled by rock hard meat and exploded in her head instead of the room.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The cock pumped in and out; the belt came thudding down. To the front she was mouth fucked and to the rear she was ass flogged. Emily held her position and seeped... watery tears down her face and thick juice from her pussy.
Faster and faster Her Nemesis mouth fucked her, and harder and harder Hades lashed out. She heard the man grunting in front of her; she could feel his cock swell against her tongue. Another whack on her ass sent Emily forward to meet him as Her Nemesis growled loudly and thrust all the way in. There was a roar with the action that heralded so much; then suddenly her throat was flooded with warm thick liquid. Emily instantly gagged and tried to pull away, but the hands held her there. The man pulled
his cock out so only the head was resting on Emily’s tongue. Another blast was unleashed and Emily felt more warm creamy cum squirt onto her tongue and splash onto her palate and tonsils. It was followed by another and another. Emily’s mouth became swollen with the man’s cock and his spunk. Her Nemesis was groaning and ramming his ejaculating rod into her mouth so hard it hurt.
Flavour and texture and the warmth of life – it washed around her oral senses. The taste was revolting, but Emily held it in her mouth. She could feel the cum escaping from the corners of her lips and dripping down her chin. Finally the man stopped thrusting and spurting. He pulled his dick out and slapped it across Emily’s wet cheeks, leaving behind a trail of cum on each one. Emily closed her eyes and winced at the act, disgusted and depravedly thrilled.
“Look at me!” yelled the man.
Emily opened her eyes and looked about wildly. The man stood before her, his beast of a cock lobbing up and down, a globule of spunk clinging to the eye. He grinned down at Emily and then snarled out the next order.
“Show it to me, bitch! Show your Master his cum.”
A hard chug on her hair from the big man behind her pulled Emily’s head back. Panting in disgust, Emily opened her mouth. More cum dribbled out to run down her chin. Emily was desperate to spit it all out, but she didn’t dare – all she could do was obey.
The big man leaned over for a better view as the next order was given.
“Swill it round with your tongue,” snarled Emily’s Nemesis Master.
Fighting back the urge to vomit, Emily did as she was told. Holding her head back to keep the semen in, she lashed her tongue around, coating her palate again with the noxious flavour.
“Now swallow it! Swallow my spunk, you fucking cum slut!”