by John Argus
She gasped only slightly when he knelt and began to tease her clitoris, spreading her legs, drawing back her knees and grinding against his fingers as she continued to writhe in sensual delight. Sexual heat built rapidly and soon enveloped her in a steamy sense of delicious pleasure. Then he stopped and rose to his feet and she felt a deep disappointment as he moved to the wall. But then he returned, holding a thick plastic phallus.
She spread her legs in anticipation, and groaned in delight as he slowly pushed it into her. It was thicker than the metal probe, and much softer. It slid easily into the soft moist flesh of her pussy, and a moment later it was fully within her, the flat of his hand pushed against the base to force even that inside her, almost.
Perhaps a quarter inch protruded, holding her pussy lips tightly open. She luxuriated in the deep penetration; the feel of it was so very much softer and gentler than the unyielding metal had been.
But then he seized her arms and lifted her back up onto her knees. He moved to a corner cabinet and opened it, and she blinked in surprise to see a small television monitor. On a shelf above it was a video recorder, and atop that…
‘Oh no, wait,’ she gasped.
‘Getting shy?’ he mocked, taking down the video camera and setting it before her. Gwen stared at the unblinking eye of the thing anxiously, then turned to look at the television, which was showing her what the camera was recording. For the moment it was focused on her head and shoulders, her breasts below the level of the screen.
‘Tell us what a little slut you are,’ he coaxed smoothly, utterly in control of the situation.
She stared at him, then at the camera, swallowing nervously.
‘Um… I’m not sure I—’
‘Are you a slut?’ he persisted.
She inhaled deeply. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.
‘Louder.’
‘Yes.’
‘Say it.’
She hesitated. ‘Yes I – I am a slut,’ she said.
‘A whore?’
‘Yes, I’m a whore and a slut,’ she breathed.
‘Describe your present position.’
‘I – I’m on my knees.’
‘What else?’
‘I’m naked.’
‘What else?’
She felt her chest tighten, and glanced sheepishly at the monitor. ‘My hands are bound behind my back and… and…’
‘Go on.’
‘And I have a large dildo inside me,’ she blurted.
‘Where inside you?’ he taunted.
‘In my vagina,’ she said.
‘Your cunt.’
Gwen closed her eyes in shame. ‘Yes.’
‘Say it.’
She took a deep breath, and repeated, ‘Cunt. I have a dildo in my cunt.’
‘And have you been punished recently?’
‘Yes,’ she admitted faintly.
‘How were you punished?’ His questioning was relentless. Gwen had nowhere to hide.
‘I was spanked,’ she said.
‘Why were you spanked?’
‘For wearing your pyjama top,’ she said, trembling slightly. ‘I’m not allowed to wear clothes, and certainly not yours.’
‘Because you are here as a sexual toy.’ It was a statement rather than a question. ‘Because you enjoy being a sexual toy.’
‘Yes, I enjoy being used as a… as a… What are we doing here?’ she asked plaintively.
‘Whatever I decide,’ he said simply. ‘Tell me what you were doing on that frame this morning.’
He nodded at the X-shaped frame and then panned the camera that way.
‘I was tied to it,’ she gasped.
‘And the wooden implement? Where was that?’
The camera turned back to her and she dropped her eyes. ‘Inside me,’ she whispered.
‘Where?’
‘In my cunt,’ she said harshly.
‘And did you like it?’
She nodded instinctively. ‘Yes, I… yes.’
‘And did you have an orgasm?’
‘Yes,’ she replied instantly, without having to think about it.
The image on the monitor widened so that her breasts came into the picture, then the entirety of her, from head to knees. She watched the camera zoom in a little and saw the base of the dildo protruding down a little between her thighs.
‘Do you want to be used now?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she whispered, the erotic tension making her voice crack a little.
‘Then beg for it.’
Gwen closed her eyes, her mind spinning. She thought of who he might show the video to, of the dangers of letting such a thing exist, and yet her arousal was so powerful that the wickedness of saying things before it was simply too captivating.
‘Please fuck me,’ she implored. ‘Please fuck my cunt!’
He moved around her, holding the camera. ‘Position yourself properly,’ he ordered. ‘Face down, bottom up.’
She fell forward submissively, sighing as her shoulders touched the floor, her head twisting up to stare at the monitor. He was directly behind her, the camera showing her from behind, bottom raised, legs apart, her sex openly displayed. The camera was positioned carefully to one side and she stared, captivated, at the sight of his fingers approaching her unprotected sex, watched as they stroked her wet lips, her bottom writhing back against them. She watched two straighten and push into her, pumping in and out. A moment later a finger began to stroke her clitoris, and still she watched, eyes wide as the monitor showed her in bright, perfect colour.
He produced a dildo, a thick one, and sank it into her. She stared at her clutching sex lips as they were spread apart, watched as more and more of the dildo disappeared into her body. Then he began to pump and her hips rolled and her eyes stared, held by the captivating sight. And then she yelped even as she saw the hand slap down across her buttocks, yelped again as it spanked a second time, then came, crying out, jerking back against the dildo and his slapping hand.
He left the dildo lodged within her and moved back, circling with the camera, zooming in to her glazed eyes and slack jaw, then pulling back to zoom in on her glistening sex. He filmed her from all angles, then put the camera away and closed the cabinet.
He moved back behind her and knelt, then pulled the dildo free. She heard his zipper sliding down and a moment later gasped as he thrust into her. As before, he used her roughly, powerfully, her bottom aching as his groin slammed against it, her insides punched rhythmically by his pistoning organ as he stabbed into her with all his fury. Yet she knelt and accepted it, unprotesting, gasping and groaning and grunting as he rode her.
And then he finished and rose, and still she knelt there, bottom raised.
‘Slut,’ he spat.
And she was. She felt both shamed and empowered. Then he gripped her by the arm and dragged her upright to her knees. He held her biceps with both hands, staring down at her without expression. It was impossible to know what was going on in his mind, and she felt anxious and wary again.
Then he unbuckled the restraints and removed them. ‘Come with me,’ he said.
Chapter 5
Having watched her shower and freshen up he eased a new dildo into her sex, with an attitude of detachment that Gwen found strange, and led her down the hall to the entrance area where the lift was. ‘We’re going out,’ he said, and Gwen stared at him in astonishment as he fetched her coat and shoes from a closet. He held it out and she slipped into it automatically, and then stepped into her shoes.
‘Where are we going, sir?’ she asked with trepidation.
‘To get you properly fitted,’ he replied mysteriously as the lift doors whispered open and he guided her inside.
‘Fitted, sir?’ she probed, though no
t really sure she wanted to hear the answer.
‘Just a few things,’ he said noncommittally. ‘They need to be sized exactly.’
She nodded as if she understood and then sighed softly; each time she moved the pressure of her thighs against the base of the dildo made a little whisper of pleasure sweep through her.
‘Are you going to be obedient?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘Yes, sir, I will be obedient.’
He reached out and cupped her face, lifting none too gently. She grabbed at his wrist at first, but at a scowl from him dropped her hands, standing unsteadily on her toes.
‘Yes, I think servile obedience is your natural state,’ he said, nodding sagely.
Gwendolyn felt indignant but kept silent. He released her chin as the lift stopped and she blushed as the same chauffeur as before stood by the car. She was all too aware of her nudity inside the coat, and averted her eyes as she passed him and climbed into the back of the Cadillac. She sat down gingerly, her bottom sore from her strapping, the dildo still protruding from her pussy. She felt additional pressure inside her as the round base pushed down against the soft seat, and she winced a little.
He climbed in beside her. ‘Are you embarrassed that Paul saw you as a naked whore the other day?’ he asked.
She nodded weakly.
‘Yes sir!’ he snapped.
‘Yes sir,’ she blurted, jumping a little at the sudden ferocity of the rebuke.
‘Well, you shouldn’t be.’ His voice was instantly soothing again. ‘You should be proud of being a whore, and proud of your naked body. You should want to display it to as many men as possible.’
Gwen made an effort to smile, but said nothing.
‘Open your coat,’ he ordered.
Her heart gave a lurch and she stared at him. ‘Now?’ she whispered.
‘Now,’ he confirmed. ‘Open it wide.’
‘But, sir—’
‘Now, slut,’ he ordered, the angry tone returning.
She didn’t have to, she told herself. She should tell him to stuff it. But the idea, even while hideously embarrassing, was also darkly exciting, and she was slowly undoing the buttons even while her mind was screaming against it. The last button came free, and she opened her coat a few inches, face reddening, but he tugged it wide open, baring her completely.
‘Now spread your legs,’ he told her.
She felt the words hit her like a blow and could not obey, but his demanding hands gripped her thighs, the fingers like iron, and pried them apart, pulling her bottom forward on the seat so she slumped back a little, making the base of the dildo all too visible.
‘Get used to being seen naked,’ he hissed venomously, his moods seemingly ever-changing, unsettling her. ‘Paul won’t be the last man I show you to.’
Gwen stared out of the window, seeing nothing, face burning, stomach churning, glad the window was tinted to hide her nakedness from the traffic around them. Then she heard a whir and turned to see the glass divider between front and rear gliding down.
‘Paul, this is Gwendolyn,’ Richardson said, as though introducing them at any normal gathering.
‘How do you do, Miss Gwendolyn?’ Paul said, his eyes grinning at her in the mirror. Gwen gasped and indignantly turned her eyes away.
‘Gwendolyn,’ Richardson said dangerously, so she turned her gaze back to the mirror, trembling slightly.
‘H-hello, Paul,’ she managed.
‘What do you think of Gwendolyn’s body, Paul?’
‘Very nice, sir,’ the chauffeur said, without elaborating.
‘Her breasts?’ Richardson cupped one, casually lifting it for his employee.
‘Very nice, sir,’ Paul said again.
He wanted her; of that Gwen had no doubt. She could see the desire in his dark brown eyes, and a shudder mixing lust and shame churned through her and she had to turn her gaze away again.
She was in a daze as they moved through the traffic, body and mind flustered and confused. Cars drove past them on both sides and people rushed along the pavement. None could see through the tinted glass windows, but she still felt horribly exposed to the world. She flinched as Richardson’s cold hand slid between her thighs and he began to rub her clitoris. She shuddered and tried to control herself, determined not to orgasm in front of the chauffeur again.
They turned into a narrow alley and pulled up before a black door. Gwen quickly closed her coat as Richardson got out, scurrying after him, trying not to look at Paul. The door opened before they could reach it and a short man in a black suit welcomed them inside.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Richardson,’ he gushed. ‘It’s good to see you again.’
‘Thank you, William.’ Richardson went through the niceties with little sincerity. ‘Is everything ready?’
The plump little sycophant nodded. ‘Everything is ready, sir.’
He led them along a narrow, dingy hall, smelling vaguely of old leather and sawdust, then down a flight of steps to a musty, cluttered room.
‘The boots first,’ Richardson decreed.
‘Of course, sir,’ William acknowledged with a subservient nod, led Gwen to a chair, then pulled a low stool in front of her as she sat.
‘Your foot please, miss,’ the little creep said. Gwen swallowed nervously, but raised a foot, quite aware of her nudity beneath the coat and wondering if Richardson would show her to this horrible little man, too.
He measured her feet quite carefully, then her ankles as well. ‘Stand up please, miss,’ he said when satisfied, and when she did as asked he indicated the coat. ‘If you’ll now open that, please.’
Gwen stared at Richardson in mute appeal, but he merely nodded.
‘But I… I don’t have anything on underneath,’ she blurted, testing his patience by stating the obvious.
‘Mr Kenton has seen naked young women before,’ Richardson replied.
Reddening again she opened her coat a little, hesitating, but Richardson grabbed it from behind and roughly snatched it off, leaving her naked before them.
Gwen cringed as Kenton examined her, his beady eyes crawling over her flesh. She felt like dying, like falling through the floor and curling up into a ball. She could hardly breathe for the humiliation.
But, despite the availability of her beauty the man simply got to work, using a tape to measure her legs. She was required to stand still, feet slightly apart, as he knelt before her and ran the tape up the inside of first one leg, and then the other, his fingers almost brushing her bare sex, and the back of a hand actually did briefly touch the base of the dildo. She was fighting to control her breathing, for despite the humiliation she was feeling a deep and growing sexual desire at being so exposed before the seedy little man. A flush spread to her cheeks as he worked methodically; standing to roll the tape around her breasts, directly over her erect nipples to take her bust size.
When he was done, even taking measurements of her head, she was permitted to put the coat back on and do it up.
‘All right, sir,’ he finally said. ‘It’ll take a day or two, of course.’
‘Of course,’ Richardson acknowledged. ‘You have the address.’
‘Oh yes, sir,’ Kenton said, chuckling. ‘I have the address.’
Richardson nodded, and motioned a confused but relieved Gwen towards the steps.
They were not done for the day, however. Their next stop was a lingerie store of sorts. They were the only customers and the proprietress, a grey-haired woman, treated Richardson like a king.
Again Gwen had to strip, the dildo still shockingly in place. The woman and Richardson looked at a variety of items, trying the ones he liked on her as though she were a tailor’s dummy. The woman never spoke to her, and had no hesitation in adjusting her breasts inside the cups of the bras, or testing the tightn
ess of the strings on thongs, panties or G-strings.
The items he selected would be delivered.
Their next stop was a dress shop. Once again they received private, personal attention, this time from two women, one a few years older than Gwen, the other in her mid-thirties. Once again Gwen had to remove the coat, and this time the younger woman seemed slightly embarrassed and tried not to look at her.
The dresses he bought were all designed to display a woman as provocatively as possible, a few just barely shy of indecent, and that was assuming one was elastic about one’s standards.
The younger woman continued to appear slightly flustered by the whole experience, which kept Gwendolyn embarrassed as well. And worse still, after a time Gwen realised the shy blonde was looking at her in a very particular way. That deepened her embarrassment. She had been propositioned by a number of females in the past, but always rebuffed their attentions. It wasn’t that the idea especially repulsed her, so much as she was honestly uncertain about just how things would work with a girl. She had no idea how to treat a female lover, and was used to the men taking the lead in things. It was all too confusing, so she’d been quite happy to stick with men.
But now this female was obviously finding her presence deeply arousing.
‘Try this,’ the older woman said. It was little more than a slip dress, silky and light as a feather. The blonde held it for Gwen, who put her arms out and then raised them as the blonde slid the featherlike material down her arms and over her breasts. One hand brushed against a straining nipple as she pulled it down and Gwen experienced a little static charge of sexual energy.
The white silk was quite tight over her breasts and hips, and fell to just below her buttocks.
‘Yes, I like it,’ Richardson said. ‘What about that slip we saw for around the house?’
‘Andrea, fetch it,’ the older woman ordered curtly.
The blonde moved away quickly, returning with a small box containing a gold chain and what appeared to be a large scarf. She set it aside and then reached down for the hem of the slip dress, sliding it up. Her fingers gently stroked Gwen’s thighs and hips, and then her ribs to brush against the sides of her breasts. Gwen did not respond, raising her arms obediently as the blonde pulled it off.