by John Argus
She entered his bedroom and began to go through his drawers and cabinets again, trying to get more of an understanding as to what kind of a person her ‘master’ was. Finding a photo album helped somewhat. It showed him on various horses and out at what she realised was an oil-drilling platform. He wore a cowboy hat or hardhat and dirty jeans then. He was pictured with other rough looking men, drinking beers together or leaning against fence posts or pipelines. She wondered if oil was how he had gained his wealth. There were no pictures of women, which she thought odd.
His office contained a variety of reports and documents, few of which she could understand. She wished then that she had given some thought to those business classes her stepfather had often urged her to take. Perhaps there was something in what he had kept prattling on about after all. She did, however, determine his name at last.
‘Ian Richardson,’ she said, tasting the sound of it.
The name seemed so normal for such an odd sort of a man.
Chapter 4
Gwen went into the kitchen and made herself a snack, then went to the tiny theatre and spent a while playing with the controls of his satellite dish, trying to figure out how it worked. Eventually she was able to get something to watch and felt quite at home as she sprawled back in a comfortable chair and sipped a glass of wine.
‘I don’t recall giving you permission to use this.’
Gwen yelped and almost fell out of the chair. ‘I – I didn’t think you’d be home so soon,’ she blurted.
‘Obviously.’
‘Well, I’m not doing any harm am I?’ she said defensively.
‘Sir,’ he reminded her uncompromisingly.
‘Sir,’ she echoed obediently.
‘And take that off at once,’ he said, indicating the pyjama top with his eyes, his tone harsh and cold.
‘Yes sir,’ she gabbled, hurrying to obey. ‘I’m sorry, sir, but I had nothing to wear.’ She peeled it off immediately, feeling a sense of menace even as the low hum of sexual heat grew in strength.
‘Then you ought to have remained naked,’ he said simply. ‘I think women like you should be kept largely naked anyway.’
‘Yes, sir,’ she said meekly, not really understanding him.
‘Come here.’
Breathlessly she hurried over to him and he took her arm, leading her out and along to the main living room.
‘Ouch,’ she squealed, and jumped as a hand cracked against her bare buttocks.
‘Don’t ever presume anything, slut,’ he warned. ‘You will go nowhere and use nothing unless I give you permission.’
‘Yes, sir,’ she panted. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I’m new at being a… a servant.’
‘So you are,’ he acknowledged, and then pushed her belly against the back of a chair, then bent her over.
Crack! His hand swept down hard against her raised bottom and she jerked sharply, crying out in pain. She tried to rise but a firm hand on the back of her neck shoved her over again as his hand came down in a fast tattoo, cracking repeatedly against her vulnerable bottom. The pain hit her from one side and the humiliation from another. To be beaten in such a manner made her feel like a naughty child. Of course, bent over and revealing herself as she was, was far from childlike, and that was an entirely different sort of embarrassment. Her buttocks warmed quickly and she yelped repeatedly at the stinging pains rippling through her body.
At that moment Gwen did not feel as though she was playing a game. In fact, it felt as if she really was being spanked. And it hurt!
Then he was pulling her up again, casually, with no regard or respect. She felt badly used in that moment and swung at him, tears in her eyes. ‘Bastard!’ she hissed with venom.
He swung her round roughly and again bent her over, pushing down between her shoulders, jamming her face against the seat so that her toes could barely hold contact with the floor. Again his hand began to rap against her bottom, harder still, and she sobbed in frustration and pain, twisting and wriggling. She tried to claw at him but he simply pulled both her wrists up and pinned them with one hand, then resumed the spanking. Her bottom was on fire, the burning intensifying with each new blow.
‘Stop it! Stop it!’ she screamed pitifully.
He yanked her upright again, still holding her wrists. ‘Do you want to go home to daddy?’ he demanded coldly.
Gwen sobbed helplessly, but shook her head. He gripped her hair and forced her head back, making her back arch. ‘Are you going to stop acting like a spoilt little girl?’
‘I… I…’ She only wanted to protest that he was hurting her, but was too flustered and upset to get the words out. Besides, it wasn’t just the pain, she knew. It was the casual infliction of it outside the sexual games; outside the thrilling excitement his knowing fingers gave her. It felt too much like, well, like punishment.
Which was entirely silly, but still outraged her.
His strong hand forced her to her knees and he glared down at her as she fought to control her sniffles. ‘Do you think you can just do what you want around here?’ he demanded. ‘Do you?’
‘No,’ she said weakly.
‘Do you want me to throw you out so you can go peddling your little ass around the clubs again?’
She hadn’t done that – or at least, it wasn’t like that.
It was all so very unfair, and his hand shoved her forward and down until she was lying on the floor. He knelt beside her, still gripping her wrists and hair, pushing down so that her face was forced against the floor.
‘You’re about as high as that,’ he sneered. ‘An inch off the floor. You should thank me for anything I do to you.’ He let go of her and stood up, but then his foot came down against her back, shoving her down just as she started to rise. ‘Who is your master?’ he demanded icily.
‘Y-you are,’ she whimpered.
‘And I can do anything I like with my servant, can I not?’
She grunted with the effort of breathing with his foot pushing down on her back. ‘Yes.’
His foot lifted and he caught her by the arm, wrenching her up so quickly she stumbled and almost fell. A quick slap to the face sent her reeling back, but then he embraced and held her tightly. ‘Are you going to be a good, obedient little slut?’ he asked quietly. She stared at him dazedly, and he shook her. ‘Are you?’
‘Y-yes, sir,’ she said with a fragile voice.
He let go of her after a final shake and she slumped. ‘Go and fetch me a drink,’ he ordered.
Gwen stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, then gathered her wits and turned away, moving to the bar as he sat down. She rubbed her buttocks ruefully, wincing slightly as they throbbed. She felt very much like a humbled girl, glancing resentfully over the top of the bar at him as she searched out the bottles. He hadn’t had to spank her so hard, after all. And it wasn’t fair!
Accepting the drink he pointed down and, blushing slightly, she dropped to her knees so he could study her while he drank.
‘Have you remembered your manners?’ he asked.
‘Yes, sir,’ she said quietly.
‘Then bend over that,’ he nodded at the coffee table.
Gwen felt a new surge of anxiety at the instruction, but turned slowly and leant forward over the low piece of furniture, laying her soft breasts against the enamelled wood.
‘Now I want you to spank yourself,’ he directed.
She blinked at him in astonishment.
‘Now. If you don’t like me spanking you, you’ll have to do it yourself.’
Her bottom was still hot and tingling from his spanking, but she fought down a protest. Complaining that her bottom hurt would be too… too childish. So Gwen reached back awkwardly and spanked her own bottom.
‘You call that a spank?’ he said, voice dripping with contempt.
/> She bit her lip and spanked harder, wincing as her backside flared hotly.
‘Harder, you miserable little bitch!’
She spanked harder, whimpering at the pain, for it was twofold; her buttocks hurt, but so did her pride.
‘Faster,’ he demanded. ‘I want to hear nothing but the slap of flesh on flesh.’
Somehow it did not occur to Gwen to refuse. She spanked herself faster, trying to ignore the heat in hand and bottom, as well as the indignity of what she was doing.
‘Enough,’ he said finally. He produced a collar and leash and then led her, crawling on all fours, back along the hallway. Gwen moved hesitantly, the floor cold on her knees, her bottom on fire. She felt a great sense of relief that her punishment seemed to be over, but was still gripped by resentment at the way he treated her, and confusion about just what she could do about it.
He led her back to the small dungeon room, and across the floor to what she had taken to be a small table. He whipped back the cloth covering it and she saw it was, in fact, a cage; a very small cage, but made of strong metal bars. It was less than two feet in width and height, and not very much longer. One end had a small round opening, and the other opened completely.
He unlatched the opening end and ordered her inside. She crawled in reluctantly, not at all surprised to find it too small for her to fit entirely within. But then he was at the other end, unlatching the upper half and lifting it away. He motioned her forward and she reluctantly obeyed, so that her head protruded out of the end. He pushed down on her head until her throat was pressed into the bottom half-circle, and then slowly brought the top half down onto her neck so that her head was inextricably locked in place. He moved back to the other end of the cage and closed the door, which pressed firmly against her bottom and forced her to shift her feet apart and raise them slightly.
Gwen heard him continue to work at that end, and then yelped slightly as something pushed against her. She tried to shift aside but was only slightly successful as her room for movement within the cage was minimal.
‘Hold still,’ he ordered.
Again she instinctively tried to look back, but with her neck caught in the hole she was unable to. She could feel something cool pressing and shifting until it rested against her sex. Then it pushed forward and she knew there was little point in trying to evade it. Instead she concentrated on relaxing her muscles as the thing, a dildo of some sort – hard and chilly as steel – pushed deeper and deeper into her soft warmth.
It was thick, but not much thicker than his erection was, and though hardly aroused she was able to accommodate it with little difficulty. A moment later he appeared once more, and to her surprise he placed a padded blindfold over her eyes.
Her hands were free, but the strips of metal were too closely fitted to get more than a few fingers through, thwarting any hopes of removing the blindfold. She reached back instead, sliding a hand between her thighs and feeling the thing inside her. It was thicker than she had thought, and definitely metallic. Her fingers traced the tightly clasping lips of her sex as they gripped it, then moved along the metal dildo to where it seemed fixed to the rear wall of the cage. She tried to move it, but to no benefit.
She sighed and assumed the most comfortable position she could, given the circumstances, letting her head fall and bracing herself on hands and knees.
Gwen considered herself sophisticated, but this sort of sexual punishment, if punishment it was, evaded her understanding. In truth she really had no greater understanding of what aroused and seduced people than most girls her age. The fetishes and perversions which interested those not within the mainstream were more than a little beyond her understanding. Not in any fantasy or nightmare had she ever imagined anyone would place her in a cage, nor would it have ever occurred to her to purchase such a cage – as he had done – for the purpose of imprisoning others. It was a truly bizarre thing to do, and she was feeling more than a little put out by it.
On the other hand, she was a young woman who had recently been exposed to the wicked joy of being dominated and used, and in that light being caged in such a manner did make her feel aroused.
The rise in heat was slow in coming, awaiting the fall of the annoyance and pique gripping her. Once that gave way to boredom, however, she began to slowly experiment with the only likely source of diversion within her cage. She found she could slowly push herself backwards until the metal which encircled her neck was jammed against her jaw and the base of her skull, and that in doing so her warm pussy could swallow several additional inches of the dildo.
She reached down between her thighs once more, now mildly excited, and began to gently rub her clitoris as she worked against the metal dildo. The heat began to rise much more quickly, and she was soon gasping excitedly as she rode back and forth along the now warm, slick metallic tube.
Her first realisation that he was still present came with the snap of clasps holding part of the cage together. It was not the front part, nor the back, for they remained firm. But moments later she felt his hands gripping her wrists and pulling both up and behind her back. He said nothing, merely handcuffing them together there. Then she heard a clang of metal on metal as the cage was closed once more.
Having been startled – and embarrassed – by his sudden presence she held still, trying to tell if he had left. Her new position was considerably less comfortable than her old, for without her hands to hold up her torso her back was beginning to strain, and she soon had to lay some of her weight on her throat as it lay clasped in the hole. With some effort she worked herself forward so that her shoulders were propped against the front of the cage, and held herself like that for some minutes.
But then, certain he had left, she began to work herself backwards again. Despite the strain on her back she began to grind onto the metal dildo, gasping with the effort as well as the pleasure.
Then she heard the sound of the snaps being released again and cursed mentally, halting her motions. ‘Sir?’ she asked in a breathless, quavering voice.
He did not reply. She felt straps being placed about each thigh, and then grunted as they were pulled backwards, the pressure digging the leather into her soft skin as they pulled her sharply onto the dildo. Her head was pulled back against the hold to the point of pain as her jaw wedged in tightly. Then she felt the pipe pushing forward.
‘Ungghhhh… that’s too deep!’ she cried, but there was no reply. She heard the sound of the cage being closed, and again there was silence. ‘Sir…? Sir…?’
Her head was caught painfully tightly now, and she could not move forward to release the pressure. Nor could she lean against anything to support her upper body. Her back was forced to hold her in that uncomfortable position, for she could lay only a small amount of pressure down on her jaw where it was trapped inside the hole.
The dildo was deep within her now and she could do nothing to release that pressure either. Aside from twisting her wrists within the handcuffs or wriggling her torso a little she could not move at all. ‘Sir?’ she called again.
Her insides throbbed uncomfortably with the pressure of the dildo, but her back was by far the more painful problem. She called several times for him, promising to be good and apologising for her misbehaviour, but was answered only by silence.
It was difficult to tell how long she remained caged in that fashion. It seemed like hours though she eventually discovered it was much less. A finger along her jaw wakened her to his presence and she babbled her apologies again even as the finger slid along her lips and then eased within.
‘Do you want to please me, slut?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she cried.
His finger pressed against her tongue and began to slide in and out of her mouth. ‘Show me.’
Her confusion was brief, and she closed her lips around the finger, licking as he pumped it slowly in and out. She sucked despe
rately, eager to show him her remorse that he might release her. One finger became two, then three, and she slurped and licked at them, heedless of the indignity, caring only about the pain and discomfort gripping her.
The fingers were withdrawn and his penis rubbed her cheek. She opened her mouth submissively and it pushed between her lips and slid over her tongue. She closed her lips around it and sucked, her tongue pushing up against the underside as he pumped lazily in and out.
‘You’ll do anything I tell you, and you won’t complain,’ he said.
She tried to nod in agreement.
‘You’re not a weak little girl, are you?’ His tone was of irritation and scorn. ‘You’re an adult. You embarrass yourself by losing control over something as trivial as a spanking.’
She blushed a little, for of course he was right.
His cock continued to slide steadily in and out of her mouth and she worked on it as capably as she could, hoping the pleasure she gave him would cause him to relent and let her out of the cage, but then her mouth filled with his viscous spending without warning, and after a moment of surprise she swallowed, feeling his organ beginning to soften between her lips.
He withdrew, and moments later she felt the cage opening. He undid the handcuffs and then released the straps binding her thighs. The front part of the cage came up and he slipped off her blindfold. She saw then that the entire top of the cage came open as well, and heaved a sigh of relief as the metal dildo slid backwards and the pressure on her insides disappeared.
The back of the cage was opened up and she backed out, groaning as she was able to straighten up. She fell onto her side, arching her back and stretching in every direction. The relief was wonderful and she felt a wonderful sense of languor spreading through her body.