by Lacey Kane
Again, Jones went to the wall of mystery boxes and brought back my prize. “A banana. Open wide, sugar.”
With Thornton still holding me in place with my arms locked behind my back, Jones fed me the banana a bite at a time. As he did, Bradford toyed with the clothespins on my breasts and my clit, jiggling them back and forth. It was hard to concentrate on eating, but if I didn’t, there was no telling how long it would be before I had a decent meal.
“Another number, Fuck Toy.”
“Nine, Master.”
Jones brought back a candle and lighter. I sucked in a breath, wondering what they would do with that. He lit the wick and then passed the taper over to Bradford, who held it for a moment, letting some of the wax melt at the top.
“Put her on her back and hold her down,” he said a minute later.
Thornton pushed me to my knees and kept pushing until I was on my back. He held both my wrists in one hand, stretched up above my head. Jones held my ankles in place. And then Bradford was leaning over me, dribbling the hot wax down onto the skin of my belly.
I flinched at the contact and gasped, but I managed to avoid letting out a scream. Thornton shook his head. “Stay quiet or I’ll make you stay quiet, slut.”
The next bit of wax poured on the inside of my upper thigh, way too close to my pussy for comfort. A moment passed, and then it came down on the tender flesh of my underarm.
I whimpered with that one, and immediately Thornton’s free hand came over my mouth, smothering my ability to cry out.
Two more spots over my stomach. Then Bradford used his fingers to spread my pussy lips, and I struggled to get free. There was no way I could get Thornton and Jones to let me loose, though, and Bradford poured a long stream of the hot wax over my aching, tender flesh.
By this time, I couldn’t stop myself from writhing beneath them, though I didn’t know if I was desperate for it to stop or desperate for more.
Another stream over my belly button.
Then he moved up higher, taking a position right over one of my breasts. I tried to call out to stop him, but Thornton’s hand prevented anything more than a muffled whimper.
Bradford poured the wax directly onto my nipple, and I screamed. When he repeated the process on the other tit, tears came to my eyes.
But then he blew out the candle. Was that it? I’d lost count.
Jones released my ankles, and Thornton removed his hand from my mouth.
“Give me another number, Fuck Toy.”
After that, I figured it might be better to get rid of the higher numbers first. The anticipation was more than I could bear. “Twenty, Master.” My voice sounded shaky, since I still had tears coming from my eyes.
That cubby had a bottle of water, and my next choice, fourteen, had a grilled chicken breast. They’d pulled me to a sitting position for those, and I was starting to feel a bit more confident. Then I requested, “Eighteen, Master.”
“Oh, sugar.” Jones shook his head. “You’ll wish you hadn’t picked this one so soon.”
Bradford took great care in placing the eighteen thumbtacks just so on the floor in front of me, with the pointy end sticking up. I tried not to think about how they were going to put me on them…whether I would stand on them with my bare feet, or if I would be laid down with them beneath some body part, or if I’d be on my knees. There really wasn’t a good option, as far as I was concerned, and thinking about it was only making me crazy.
I didn’t have to think about it too much longer.
Bradford moved out of the way, and then Thornton and Jones jointly lifted me. They bent my knees beneath me, and then I knew. As they lowered me back down onto the thumbtacks, they took great care to place them where they’d be beneath my knees and lower legs.
I shifted slightly, and immediately regretted it. The thumbtacks weren’t so bad as long as I was still, but even the tiniest movement was sheer torture.
Thornton secured my hands behind my back with handcuffs, making it impossible to use my hands or arms to support myself.
“Give me another number, Fuck Toy.” Bradford apparently didn’t want to give me time to assimilate to the latest changes.
Thornton knelt beside me. I opened my mouth to answer just as he slipped three thick fingers inside my passage. “Nineteen, Master,” came out on a gasp.
Jones moved to retrieve whatever was inside the cubby hole, but I couldn’t pay attention to what it was. I focused all of my efforts on not moving at all, which was far easier said than done considering the need I felt to press my hips closer to Thornton’s hand.
A paddle struck me firmly on the ass. Each blow drove me closer to Thornton’s tormenting hand, and pressed me down harder onto the thumbtacks. On the nineteenth, the force of it was enough that it shook the clothespin on my clit free and I cried out as the blood rushed back into it.
Bradford picked it up off the floor, and I thought he was going to put it straight back where it had come from. He didn’t, but the alternative was probably worse. He swept his hands across my breasts, sending all of the other clothespins flying and the blood rushing painfully back where it belonged.
“Number?”
Sixteen earned me a piece of toast, but then eleven brought eleven strikes from a riding crop directly onto my clit. We kept working our way through the cubby holes. I was given steamed vegetables, a few strawberries, and a piece of string cheese, plus a sip of orange juice.
I would have had more juice than just a little sip, but Thornton had taken to twisting the butt plug around in my ass while he frigged my cunt, and then all of a sudden he pulled the plug free and slammed it home again right as I was trying to drink, and I spilled the rest of my juice.
In between all of that, I was flogged on the breasts, caned on the bottoms of my feet, had a spiked wheel drawn repeatedly over my breasts and abdomen, had ice cubes held against my tits and clit, and then finally had a tingling, stinging sort of cream rubbed all over my way-too-fucking sensitive skin. At every point, Thornton worked on my pussy or ass, or Jones would suck and bite at my tits, never leaving me even so much as a moment without some sort of crazy, sexed-up need going on.
And then we were down to the last cubby hole.
“Give me a number, Fuck Toy.”
“One, Master,” I said through my tears of desperation. I couldn’t tell you what I was desperate for anymore. More pain? An orgasm? An end to it all? I didn’t know.
Jones once again crossed the room. When he came back, he handed Bradford some sort of device that looked like a whacked out microphone.
Bradford hit a button, and the thing buzzed to life. “Don’t come until I tell you to.” And then he bent to the floor and pressed it against my clit, and I nearly came off the ground from the shock of it.
I subconsciously tried to back away, but Thornton pushed me closer. My entire body bowed back, trying to both escape the touch and get more of it. I was screaming, and tears were flowing freely, and my legs writhed beneath me, and still Bradford pressed it into me.
The need to come was so great that my hands and feet cramped into crazy positions and I couldn’t move them at all. “Please, Master,” I begged, no longer caring about anything other than reaching the orgasm that had been building since I woke up this morning.
A few more minutes of his torture passed, and then finally, he turned it all the way up to high. “Come, Fuck Toy.”
I exploded like a supernova.
The next thing I knew, I was straddling Jones on a bed, with his cock buried deep in my cunt, rubbing against the butt plug through the thin membrane with each thrust. My hands were still cuffed behind my back, and I could still feel a few of the thumbtacks pressed deep into my knees and lower legs, though at least they were on a mattress now and not a concrete floor. Thornton came over and shoved his cock down my throat, grasping my hair to guide me exactly how he wanted me. I’d barely swallowed him when I felt Bradford toying with the plug in my ass, sliding it in and out a few times before removing
it completely.
Almost as soon as he did that, he climbed onto the bed behind me and buried his massive cock in my abused ass hole. No matter how many plugs they’d had in there, I wasn’t well-stretched enough for his invasion.
I screamed onto Thornton’s cock, and he held my head tight against his body, my nose pressed against his pelvis while the other two fucked me in a near-frantic rhythm. Finally, he released me and I gasped for air.
I barely had a full breath before he put one hand over each ear and held my head in place while he picked up the same thrusting pace as the other two. The mattress squeaked beneath us as the three men filled me in every way, and the room was filled with wet, slapping sounds and grunts and moans, not to mention my garbled screams.
Jones reached down between us and rubbed hard on my clit, and the pain sent me over the edge into ecstasy again, and my limbs turned to rubber, and I collapsed.
A minute later, Jones shot his load deep inside me. Bradford and Thornton soon followed. I fell asleep where I lay, with three cocks still buried in my three holes.
Ice cold water woke me up the next morning. When I gathered my wits, I realized I was in the shower. My arms were strapped to the same bar as before, holding me up. But I was alone—and I had another gag shoved between my teeth, so I couldn’t call out.
I couldn’t move to get out from beneath the cold spray, either, so I just had to take it.
Shivering, chattering, I stood there until finally the bathroom door opened. But it was Dustin who came through, not Bradford, not Jones, not Thornton.
He took off his clothes, and his cock was already straining. Reaching down, he stroked it, and naturally my eyes stayed glued there. “You’ve done pretty well, Jenna,” he said. “I’ve been watching, and damn have I enjoyed myself.”
I’d already seen much of what he would have seen, so I could well understand the sentiment. Whether it was something I’d wanted or not, I’d been horny as hell for about thirty-six hours or so, non-stop.
“So here’s the deal. It’s Sunday, so you’re still my own personal sex slave for the rest of today. Now you know you get off on pain and being tied up…now I know you get off on pain and being tied up, and it isn’t just something I suspect any more…so for the rest of the day, I’ll call you slave, and you call me Master. Then we’ll see where we go from there, okay?”
Right then, I would have agreed to anything if he would get me out of the freezing shower. I nodded and mumbled something into my gag.
Dustin reached into the shower and added some hot water to my cold water. When it warmed up, he climbed in and soaped me all over, then rinsed me off. After turning off the water, he released my hands from the bar and then tossed me over his shoulder, carrying me dripping wet into the room with the stocks.
He tossed me unceremoniously onto the floor, and then took a collar from a table, fastening it around my neck. Then he attached it to a hook in the floor, so that my head was down on the ground, and attached both of my wrists to the same hook.
Moving between my legs, he put a bar between my ankles, and then attached it in place to two more hooks sticking up from the floor, leaving me in a seriously uncomfortable doggy-style position.
His tongue came down on my sex, and then he bit and tugged on my clit, forcing it back out of hiding so he could do as he pleased with it. Instantly, my cunt flooded with my juices. Dustin didn’t need any more invitation than that to shove his fingers inside me, stretching me with first three and then four.
My hips pressed back into him, desperate for more. As over-sexed as I’d been all weekend, I was already on the verge of another orgasm…but Dustin sensed it. He knew my body way too well.
“Same rule applies with me as it did with Bradford and his men. You don’t come unless I tell you to come, slave. Your cunt exists for my pleasure, not for yours.”
I whimpered and fought to control the urge as he continued to work over my clit with his teeth. He hadn’t shaved since before the party Friday night, and his stubble scraped against my swollen, tender flesh.
And then, while his hand still worked in my pussy, he licked a path up to my asshole, pressing his tongue inside. Somehow, over the last day and a half, that had become highly erogenous area for me. Instead of wishing he’d leave it alone, I wanted more.
But then he pulled away. When he came back, it was with the swing of a rattan cane against my cheeks.
I screamed into my gag in shock and pain, and yet another tug happened in my center, and I was wetter than before.
Dustin knelt down next to my head and removed my gag.
A stream of drool hit the floor.
“That’s right, slave. Scream for me.” He swung again, then again, over and over again, picking up a rhythm. I screamed and cried, over and over again, until I was begging him to fuck me and there was no more line separating pleasure and pain.
Finally, he put down the cane. When he came back to me, he pressed a vibrator inside my cunt and turned it on. Then he took me by the hips and ran his hands over my stinging cheeks. “I’m going to fuck your ass, slave.” Dustin squeezed out some lube and spread it all around my hole, pressing his fingers up inside to lubricate me there. “I’m going to fuck you hard, and you’re going to beg me to fuck you harder, and it is only when I’m in your ass that you’ll be allowed to come. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Master.” I was breathless, waiting for him to push inside me. But still, he just ran his fingers over my anus, adding more lube, driving me batty with anticipation.
“Understand this…once I’m inside you, I’m going to keep fucking you until I’m good and done. You beg me to stop, and I’ll keep fucking. You beg me to let you come, and I’ll keep fucking.” Dustin pressed three fingers inside my asshole and shoved them up as deep as they’d go, causing me to suck in a breath. “You beg me to slow down, and still I’m just going to keep fucking. Is that clear?”
He’d already seen Bradford fuck my ass. He knew I could take it deep and hard and fast…and get off on it like there was no tomorrow. There was no point in arguing. “Yes, Master.”
I’d barely gotten the words out of my mouth before he pulled his fingers free and replaced them with his cock. He pressed all the way in on the first thrust, forcing my head down onto the floor harder than it already was. Then he pulled out, all but an inch or so, before driving back inside me.
And then he was fucking me like a madman, hard and fast and so damn good. Each thrust pressed against the vibe, sending shockwaves through me to my clit, my tits, my toes. I called out, but have no clue what I said. I do know it sounded something like, “Gruuunnhhhhhhhh.”
True to his word, he didn’t slow down or ease up at all. In fact, any time I did anything, whether it was moan or press my hips back to meet him, he somehow increased his intensity.
I felt his cock harden and grow within me, and then his sac tightened. He was about to come. Dustin moved his grip from my hips to my breasts. “Come for me, slave.”
And I did. I shattered, and felt like I was floating on the clouds while he shot his load up inside me, spurt after spurt after spurt.
He pulled his cock out, but left the vibe working in my pussy. Then he left me for a while, with my ass sticking up in the air, covered in cum. Eventually he came back and cleaned me up with a cloth, but still he didn’t release any of my bonds. When he was done, Dustin sat down on the floor by my head and stroked my hair while he rejuvenated.
We spent the rest of the day fucking when, where, and how he saw fit. I screwed up once and came while he was flogging my pussy, even though he’d forbidden me to come at any time without his cock in my ass, and certainly not without his permission. Because of that, he punished me by chaining me naked to the basketball pole out on the beach and painting a sign on my chest that read Free Blowjobs.
I sucked off six college guys while the others fingered me before Dustin decided I’d had enough of a punishment for that infraction. Then he took me back inside, brushed my teeth
and made me gargle, and then let me suck his cock while we watched the video of me, Bradford, and Jones at the spanking horse.
When the sun started to set, Dustin bent me over a sofa with my hands and arms belted behind my back, and fucked me in the ass again…and let me come. While I was recovering from that, he put a two-headed dildo inside me, one part in my cunt, the other in my ass. He spun me around and connected clamps to my tits and clit. Then he walked me out and put me in the front seat of the car, buckling me in such a way that he could still tug on the chain connecting my clamps.
The whole way home, he would reach over and tug on it occasionally, and I’d moan. We nearly caused countless wrecks, because the other drivers would stare at me. But eventually, we pulled into the garage and he let me out of the car.
I stopped short when I walked into the house, though. Bradford and Jones were sitting in the kitchen, sipping from cups of coffee.
“Did you enjoy your weekend, Fuck Toy?” Bradford looked cocky as ever.
I couldn’t deny that I had. I just nodded.
“Your man hired us to help you out, sugar,” Jones said. “He knew you’d be into it if we could break down your barriers…and he was right. And now he wants to make it a bit more permanent.”
“Permanent?” As in all of them? I shot my eyes over to Dustin, and he winked at me.
“Just me, slave. They were only for the weekend.”
“Of course, if he ever needs to hire us again…” Bradford let that hang in the air.
I probably wouldn’t mind their assistance from time to time…if it meant I could have as many orgasms as I had this weekend. Still, this was all just a little weird.
“What about my job?”
“You’ll go to work. I’ll go to work. All of that will be normal.” Dustin moved up behind me and fingered the dual dildo inside me. “But then when we come home, it’s Master and slave.”
And lots of sex.
I thought about it for a moment. But it really didn’t take all that long.