by Jessica Rael
Rebecca’s personal plaything was already in the room, prepared and awaiting her owner’s arrival. The girl was a beautiful blonde Brazilian of mixed race. Rebecca had always loved the way her blonde hair contrasted with her coffee-colored skin. From that perfect face, with its flawless complexion and golden halo of hair, shone bright green eyes that were quite breathtaking in their beauty. She was an exceptional catch, even by Cruza standards. Rebecca acquired the girl about five years ago, in an opportunistic deal with a Peruvian drug dealer. She was a beautiful virgin and he was going to marry her, but the minute Rebecca set eyes on her she had to possess her. The price was understandably high, with Cruza operatives giving safe passage to a cocaine shipment with a street value of around seven million dollars.
Rebecca was the only person the girl had ever known sexually; the dealer was as good as his word, the girl was indeed a virgin. She even had an intact hymen, rare even in true virgins. The Inquisitor had taken that from her the first night, with a twenty-four carat gold dildo, fucking the girl as soon as she arrived back with her prize. In celebration the girl had been forced to drink champagne from Rebecca’s pussy while the woman held up the dildo like a hunting trophy.
Rebecca still found the girl irresistible, and in five years she had lost none of her beauty. The girl was currently strapped to a curved bench, bending her bronzed, slim body back in an arch. The top of the bench was bolted to the back of Rebecca’s exercise bike so the girl’s head rested where the bike’s saddle should be. A little clichéd, the Inquisitor thought, smiling to herself, but lots of fun anyway.
She climbed elegantly onto the bike, swinging a shapely leg over that perfect face till she stood upright on the pedals, her shaved vagina gently touching the tip of the girl’s nose. She smiled down into those jade eyes and they looked back up with resignation. Rebecca had watched the girl’s stare change slowly over the years, from horror moving through disgust at what she was being made to do, to shame and humiliation and finally… resignation. She had come to accept what her life was about. No husband, or children, or cars, or dresses, or friends, or career; just a sexual plaything. Nothing more than that – ever. A stranger life than she could ever have imagined. When she was not entertaining her owner she was being pampered, as a host of Rebecca’s servants worked to keep the toy beautiful.
Rebecca worked out for an hour every day, building up a sweat on the bike, with the girl between her thighs. Instructions were unnecessary; the green-eyed girl knew the routine. She turned her head and began to lick the insides of her owner’s thighs, moistening them initially so the woman’s skin wouldn’t chaff as it rubbed against her face. It was only necessary for the first few minutes, for the girl knew only too well that things would get very wet as her owner began to sweat and juices leaked from her pussy.
Rebecca lowered herself onto the girl’s face and began to pedal. Her muscular thighs slid against the girl’s cheeks as the girl worked her tongue into her owner’s pussy. She nuzzled the woman’s soft wet cunt as it bounced and ground on her face. She licked the wet entrance and pulled on Rebecca’s clit with her lips as it slid across her mouth. After twenty minutes or so the girl’s face was coated with Rebecca’s sweat, juice, and her own saliva. Rebecca drove harder into her workout. The girl closed her mouth on her owner’s labia and sucked the silky flesh. Rebecca came instantly, but then the girl had been learning what made her happy for five years. The woman pounded on the machine’s pedals, driving herself harder as the girl struggled to drink all that leaked from her panting owner’s vagina.
There was a short bleep as the timer told Rebecca she had completed her workout. She wiped the sweat from her brow and relaxed on the girl’s face. The slave’s golden hair was damp with Rebecca’s sex juices, and rivulets ran down her throat, dripping to the tiled floor. The girl knew by now that she would have to get down on her knees and lick up anything that spilled after the session, just as the maids who cleaned her would wipe her face with a white silk cloth, which they would then make her suck until every drop of her owner’s fluids were gone, just as Rebecca had instructed.
The Inquisitor sat unmoving on the girl’s face, catching her breath. The golden slave continued to work her tongue on her mistress’s pussy, bringing her owner to another shuddering orgasm before she climbed off.
Rebecca released the girl from the bench, though she still wore her padded cuffs. The girl stood up, hands bound tightly to her sides, and then began to lick the sweat from her owner’s body. Starting with her shoulders and arms, sucking each finger, then Rebecca’s neck, moving down to her breasts, then her flat stomach. The girl licked the woman’s back and buttocks, and then worked her way down her thighs to her calves, stopping at her ankles. Rebecca pulled up a small stool and sat down, the girl kneeling before her, and then she slid off her tennis shoes and socks and sat quietly while the girl sucked on her toes. After the elaborate ritual was concluded the Inquisitor chained the girl to a metal ring on the wall where the maids would collect her, and headed for the shower.
Pink Lip-gloss and a Length of Rope
Amber sat on her bed looking at rainbow girl as she knelt on the floor. The young woman had spent some time in the medical center, and now her skin was fairly well healed. Amber had also had the curators subject the girl to a thorough cleaning after her removal from the Black Glass Bar. Now the young blonde sat on her haunches, freshly scrubbed and perfumed. She was still naked and bound, but then that’s how she would always be. The woman belonged to the Cruza now, but even though the organization was her ultimate owner, everyone knew she was Amber’s pet. Everyone had one – sometimes two or three – and it was customary not to use another member’s pet without asking first.
Amber reached across to the dresser by her bed and picked up the thin cane. She watched rainbow girl’s eyes closely, and could see the memories there, everything that had happened to her that night in the grimy dungeon still vivid. She backed away slightly from the cane, but she couldn’t go far. Amber was curious; the way the captive’s ass had been punished impressed her – and excited her as she imagined being able to inflict pain with such professionalism. It made the girl even more determined to cast off her past. Sure, she had always liked hurting girls, and the more her father had hurt her the more she enjoyed inflicting worse on others, but in her own way she’d been fumbling in the dark, learning as she went.
There was nothing particularly special about the white trash trailer park where Amber had grown up, a ramshackle collection of paint-flaking aluminum boxes and rusting trucks. The population of washed out women and feral kids presided over by a patriarchal collection of men: misfits, drunks, and criminals, in no particular order. About the only thing that held them together was their mutual love of bullying violence, alcohol, drugs and guns. The average white trash male ruled over his little slice of the kingdom using a simple rule; women were easy targets, and little girls the easiest of all. Under the stewardship of the unwashed, gun toting, truck driving bullies the trailer park became a violent zoo, seething with abuse, cruelty and loose sexuality. A place where teenagers roamed in hunting packs, preying on the weak and idolizing the strong, while little kids with poor hygiene and crappy diets lurked in the shadows of their older siblings, learning so they could recreate the same shitty world for themselves in a few years.
Mostly things were predictable; girls got pregnant at fourteen, marrying some loser who knew how to beat them just like their daddies did. The guys usually served their first jail term at about the same age. Amber had always known her pathetic bunch of so called friends just couldn’t wait to walk the path, a can of beer in one hand, a baby in the belly, and a broken nose on a Saturday night. They just couldn’t wait.
So Amber wasn’t very old when she figured out that some people simply resigned themselves to abuse. It was as if they were raised to expect little else. But she had to wait till she was eighteen before she discovered another variety, a type born in the passion of sex, and it
was about the same time she also discovered that some people might actually need it, might actually crave this kind of abuse. They sought it out. They thrived on it.
The last trailer on the park was tucked away by the service road. There were no kids, so she’d never had any cause to get to know the residents. Just some useless drunken old hag – Amber had never bothered to learn her name – and her quiet, withdrawn daughter, a woman in her late twenties called Jackie. It was Jackie who taught Amber who and what she really was, and it was an interesting lesson for the teenager, a girl who had fought back against abuse her whole life, who wouldn’t back down, who would never accept what was being offered by the world. The hard-fighting, sharp-witted, and by a lucky dip of the gene pool, very pretty redheaded girl was suddenly confronted by someone excitingly different, someone who could only truly exist when she was being used, and the more she was, the more she thrived. A woman who, in a paradoxical way, was a little like Amber herself, sort of the flipside; the more you hurt her, the more alive she became.
It began one warm July evening when Jackie was sat out by the road watching the cars pass by. The teenager bumped the woman then shouted, ‘Get out of my way, bitch!’ Or something like that. Amber couldn’t remember exactly. Her father had just hit her again and she wasn’t in the best of moods. Usually you got into a fight pretty quickly if you talked to trailer trash that way, even if they knew you, but Jackie just stared at the ground and moved out of the way. So like a true pack animal Amber moved in for the kill, determined to press the advantage. But while she cursed at the strange, quiet woman the teenager noticed something in her eyes, or rather the lack of it. Despite timidly accepting the tirade of verbal abuse from the younger girl, her eyes lacked fear. The woman was allowing this to happen, encouraging it even, by her very silence. On impulse Amber slapped Jackie’s cheek, a stinging blow, but the woman just stared at the ground. She didn’t fight back, nor did she run away. It was something the teenager had never encountered before.
From that point on Amber became a little obsessed with the woman. She was someone the girl could control completely, someone she could hurt, someone who would never resist, never tell. The redhead knew it was a sexual thing, and while most of the white trash girls were fucking guys on a regular basis, Amber knew she wanted something different. Every night, after she’d found some excuse to hurt Jackie, watching as she took it all, puzzled by how her eyes seemed more alive than at any time she’d known her, the teenager would lie in bed and masturbate over what had happened, thinking about what she was going to do to the withdrawn woman tomorrow.
Amber even got a key to Jackie’s trailer. She just demanded one and it was handed over. Even the smallest act of compliance would make the teenager wet, simply telling Jackie to get her a soda would dampen the domineering girl’s panties. Amber would head for Jackie’s trailer most evenings; the woman’s drunken mother was hardly ever around, and the teen’s father couldn’t give a shit where she was, so things worked out pretty well. Amber was never very sophisticated with her new hobby, nothing like she’d seen at the Black Glass Bar, and certainly nothing like the Cruza. Back then, well, she’d been pretty crude at applying her natural talents, but everyone had to start somewhere. Certainly not bad for a white trash teenager making it up as she went along. The teenager was still experimenting, still not quite grasping what she was, so she would just beat Jackie with her hands, slapping her while she cowered by her bed, not fighting back, not even trying to protect herself from the blows the crazy teenager rained down on her. She just absorbed the abuse and never told, never changed the locks, never avoided the pretty redhead, and every day her eyes were more alive, taking more care over her hair, make-up and clothes.
One night when Amber was particularly fucked off with life, she tied Jackie to the bed. Just like that, she had no idea why, a crazy girl acting on impulse. Jackie lay there; her wrists bound to the bed frame with a piece of old laundry line. The woman lay still for a few minutes then she began to thrash around, pulling at the rope. That just excited Amber, watching her struggle like that, powerless, and if it occurred to Amber that Jackie should have struggled before the rope was put on her, she never thought about it. So the teenager just stood watching the woman struggling, moaning, thrashing around, and the damp patch in the girl’s panties grew larger until she found herself looking around for something to hit Jackie with.
She rummaged through all the crap in the closet, and it took her a moment to realize she’d found what she was looking for. She stood looking at the leather belt in her hand for a moment, and then she stripped off her jeans, throwing them over the bedrail, and stood there in her crop top T-shirt and white socks. She twirled the leather belt around her head, glowering down at her struggling victim like a demonic cheerleader. Jackie started whimpering but she didn’t pull back or curl up, in fact it almost seemed as if she almost imperceptibly raised her buttocks, taunting the teenager, so Amber brought the belt slicing through the air, landing with a satisfying thwack on the woman’s ass cheeks. It couldn’t have hurt much for the struggling bitch was still wearing her denim shorts, but she yelped anyway.
‘Shut the fuck up, whore,’ Amber shouted, lashing her again. But Jackie didn’t shut up. Instead she started to moan, wriggling and struggling against the cord wrapped around her wrists, so again on impulse Amber pulled off her white socks and shoved them in Jackie’s mouth, muffling the annoying sounds. It was a gross thing to do, and the idea of her socks filling the woman’s mouth excited her, and then she went on another search.
It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for. In the bottom drawer of the kitchen cabinet, just next to the refrigerator, lay a roll of silver duct tape. She knew all the trailers kept some, especially the really crappy ones like Jackie’s, because when it rained they leaked like sieves. She also found an unexpected prize; a six-pack of beer at the back of the refrigerator. She took them out and popped a tab on one of the chilled tins, rubbing it against her forehead. It was a hot, sultry night and the condensation mixed with the sweat on her brow, ran in rivulets down her cheeks and throat to disappear into her cleavage. A small damp patch appeared at the front of her white T-shirt as she held the can to her lips and let the chilled liquid trickle into her mouth, held the fizzing liquid there for a moment, enjoying the sensation, then swallowed, smacking her lips in satisfaction.
The yellowed lamp in the grimy bedroom illuminated the scene on the single bed. The teenager knelt on the woman’s chest while she peeled off a length of tape, then she pushed the socks deeper into her mouth, squeezing her jaws shut tight, then pressed the tape firmly over her lips. Much better.
Jackie went strangely quiet, and instead of struggling against the new degradation Amber could hear her gently sucking on the cotton socks. The teenager stood by the bed, looking down at her victim while she swigged cheap beer from the can, then she raised the belt and lashed the woman’s buttocks again, giggling at the muted yelps punctuated by sucking sounds. The alcohol seeped into her excited mind, unlocking buried desires like a magic key. She grabbed the waistband of the woman’s denim shorts with strong hands and tugged them off. Jackie’s panties came with them, leaving her naked from the waist down, and now she went wild, thrashing around like a freshly caught fish on a riverbank. The redhead thought the scene was electrifying, and stood watching until one of the woman’s flailing feet kicked her in the leg. Jackie hadn’t done it on purpose, but she just couldn’t go around kicking people and get away with it. Amber grabbed the offending foot and wrapped more of the thin nylon rope around the ankle. It was oddly easy, almost as if the woman had paused her struggle in order to allow this further act of abuse from the girl. Amber then sat on Jackie’s calves, grabbed her other leg and tied the ankles together.
There was no hesitation in the tipsy teen now. Amber wasn’t thinking anything through. If there were any thoughts about possible consequences in the girl’s brain, they were quietly drowning in th
e cheap beer. She flipped the woman onto her front and lashed at her buttocks with the belt again. This time it was sweetly different, the satisfying sound of leather meeting bare skin was electric, and Amber felt the unmistakable wave of pleasure surging within her as she orgasmed, her supple limbs riding the aftershock of the most powerful moment of pleasure she’d ever known as she stood beside her victim, her own plaything, shaking gently as the sensations passed.
Amber knew she was completely lost in the game, just as she wanted. She also knew instinctively that Jackie was as lost as she was, unable to go back.
Raising the belt once more she began whipping the naked butt cheeks, raining blow after stinging blow on the reddening flesh. She owned that ass; it was hers, like the rest of the stupid bitch. Jackie was sucking her socks, it was symbolic, she had signed herself over completely. There was no going back now, not as wave after wave of orgasms rippled through the girl, making her moan in pleasure. The teenager slid her free hand into her panties, frantically rubbing herself while she thrashed her victim, her property, with the improvised whip. She slipped two fingers into her vagina as she began to flail the back of the woman’s thighs, working her slim fingers in and out of her pussy. She was really wet, juices coating her fingers and soaking her panties. Then after one last orgasm that rippled through her she collapsed on the bed beside her softly whimpering plaything.
Amber lay next to the trembling body beside her for a few moments, enjoying the warm afterglow of a sexual frenzy, and then she grabbed Jackie by the hair and turned the woman’s face to her. She smiled as she peeled away the duct tape and removed the saliva-soaked socks. She still had two fingers buried deep in her vagina, twirling them gently around. She knew Jackie could hear the squishy sound her pussy made. There was a faint sucking sound as she removed her hand and rolled her panties down her legs, pulling them over her feet, the insides of her thighs soaked. She rubbed them together, feeling them slide slickly, then she lifted her sticky fingers to the woman’s face, letting her smell her musky juices. Then she stuck her fingers roughly into the woman’s mouth.