But even Honoria, as much of a masochist as she was, could not turn on the arousal she’d come to expect on such occasions, not this time.
***
Antonia stood by the opening to the new room that adjoined the pool house and watched her lover swing a hammer. Stripped to the waist, his muscles gleamed with sweat. She thought of their mingling sweat soaking the bedsheets.
“Hello, my sweet,” she said.
He abruptly turned around and frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you, aren’t you happy?”
“Antonia, you can’t take chances like this.” He furtively looked around, afraid they might be seen. “You’re not supposed to be out without permission.”
“Rupert told me to take a walk. He wanted to talk to my mother—in private.”
“Really?” Rafael finally smiled, put down the hammer and strolled her way. “What, do you think, is that all about?”
“Oh, about the estate or something, so he generously granted me a little freedom.” She spoke in whispers, keeping her eye on the house, just in case.
He stared at her. “You are amazing, girl.”
“Am I? Why?”
“All you’ve been through, you’re still a vision…and a sexy minx.” His voice lowered, vibrating right through her body.
“I wish we could slip into the pool house,” she said, with a mischievous glint in her eye.
Rafael shook his head. “You’re living dangerously, Antonia.”
“But no one’s going to know.”
“We already take too many chances.”
“Oh, please. I see you and all I want to do is take you to bed.”
“You think that I don’t have the same feelings?”
She thought a moment. “Okay, how about tonight in my room?”
“You’re crazy!” He backed up.
“Why not? Rupert won’t be there; he’s back with Sonia.”
“But you don’t know that for sure. Be patient; we’ll have our time together when it’s safe. And don’t you go doing anything stupid, or you’ll find exactly what it’s like to disobey me.”
“And what does that mean?”
“I’m no Rupert, but I can blister a misbehaving ass if I have to.”
Unfortunately, the threat did nothing to squelch Antonia’s desire. It only seemed to make it bloom beyond its bounds. Despite the fact that she could no longer desirously serve her depot husband and enjoy his outrageous demands, she still found a real attraction to this one dominant man whose efforts to contain and rule her were an expression of genuine love.
“Oh, my,” she said, her face coloring with a blush.
“Yeah, oh my,” he shook his head.
“If Rupert were gone? Would you come to me then?”
“We’d arrange something.”
“You will still come to my morning room?”
“I’ll do what’s safe. Now, you’d better get moving before someone sees us talking and starts asking questions.”
The moment with Rafael was only brief, but enough to fan the flames of her lust. She wanted him in more ways than she could fathom now. She thrilled at his threats, at the terse commands. How like Rupert he could be and how very different. Something in the quality of his kindness spoke volumes about his sincerity. Most of all, she trusted him.
Dwelling on these thoughts, she moved back to the house as ordered and slipped inside, confronting Luisa in the back corridor. She looked up at the housemaid startled.
“You’re out, I see,” Luisa said. Her mouth formed a particularly snide grimace.
“Yes. I took a walk to see how the new building was coming along,” Antonia said.
“And Rupert knows this?”
“He does.” She smiled, knowing that she was on firm footing here.
Luisa’s haughty expression dimmed.
“Yes, Luisa, he does. In fact, he sent me outside himself.”
“I find that unlikely,” the maid said, as Antonia pushed beyond her.
“Well then, ask him and he can tell you himself.”
When Antonia reached the morning room, the door was ajar and neither her mother nor Rupert were anywhere around.
Chapter Eight
In a conversation with her mother later that night, Antonia was advised to accept the role that her husband desired of her. Honoria warned her that Rupert had become a much more powerful man with Benito’s estate in his control. It would not be wise to cross him. Antonia should graciously relent to the man when he wanted her, and even if she were unhappy with him, she should be grateful that he had a lover he preferred to her. There was no shame in being the proper wife and hostess, in covering her disquiet with a pleasing smile, and even relenting to the indignity of the sexual relations he demanded. She was told to enjoy what pleasure there was. Once she did that, she’d find her pleasure expanding in ways she did not expect.
Honoria counseled her daughter in exactly the way that Antonia would expect of a mother who had been totally submissive to her own husband—a fact that the younger woman finally realized. And yet, strangely, Antonia also felt a degree of relentless passion behind this unwanted advice. She wondered if her mother had some particular reason for her emotional plea, some motivation she was keeping secret. As difficult as it would be to do, Antonia heard the desperation in her mother’s voice and decided to take her advice to heart.
Within a few days, the routine in Rupert’s household was set. Antonia relented to her husband’s physical demands, even though she would still struggle with the anal sex. Otherwise, she lived her life in this lackluster splendor, waiting for a chance to be with Rafael.
Honoria, unbeknownst to Antonia, became Rupert’s sex pet…his current whip-slut…his favorite toy. He made her strip naked and scrub floors on hands and knees, while his assistant stood over her with a cane and brutally marked her bottom for not working fast enough. Occasionally, Rupert would show one of his pervert friends the compliant slut with the reddened ass, as she worked her way around the hard tiled floors. The pair would laugh at her humiliating condition and give the woman’s ass an extra dose of pain—a wooden slat, a ruler, anything would do as long as they could hear her shriek from the stinging bite. It took Honoria a few days to realize that Rupert didn’t want her to remain stoic in the face of the torment, as she’d been taught by Benito. He and his friends preferred to hear her squeal and watch her body attempt to wiggle away. She also discovered that she couldn’t start the histrionics too soon, or Rupert would know that she was only acting. She quickly learned exactly when to first object and have her master stop abruptly. All he wanted was to see her suffer.
Rupert gave Honoria a drafty back room to sleep in and kept her working hard all day on tasks for the sole purpose of her keeping busy. She rewashed floors, bathrooms and the kitchen—no wonder it sparkled as if no one ever cooked there.
Once a day, Rupert would dress her up so she could spend time with her daughter, just to keep up appearances. The house staff, particularly Luisa, were co-conspirators in this scheme and took great pleasure in seeing the woman ripped from some menial task and required in seconds to present herself as a sociable and gracious lady, while hiding her hurt, whipped bottom. Sometimes, Rupert would stick a thick dildo up her ass and tie it in so that when she visited with Antonia, she’d be reminded every second of the power he wielded over every aspect of her life.
The man’s favorite moments with his new toy were in the dungeon, where he could unbridle his sadistic passions and not worry about screams.
She was bound, whipped, peed on, treated as if she were a dog, gang-raped and tortured. To Honoria’s credit as a masochist, there was little the man could do that truly violated her body. Pain was her constant lover, the euphoria it generated her friend. She could scream all she liked in the dungeon beneath the house and no one would hear but the master and those he brought with him. This was her freedom. She touched her soul in the hardest of scenes and for that moment was made to fo
rget that every day, her life and her daughter’s lay in the balance. They teetered precariously on the whims of an unpredictable man that neither woman could afford to hate. While Rupert tortured the mother, the mother advised the daughter to love the man, to honor him, and to accept him as he was. In her mind, Honoria had no other choice but to surrender.
“Miguel,” Rupert met the man in the back corridor of the house, “take my wife’s mother to the dungeon for me and pin her to the wall so I can use her mouth.”
“Yes, sir,” Miguel said. He was a swarthy, stocky laborer with gnarled hands, a scruffy beard and beady eyes set deep under thick black brows, quite a contrast from his urbanely polished employer.
Honoria had been crouched in a corner on the floor, waiting for further instructions. She’d displeased Rupert that day, her ass particularly sore, and when he wanted her for anal sex, she’d balked, the only time she ever had. She knew with Benito that her complaints would be honored because they were so rare, but Rupert was not Benito and Rupert was pissed when she hesitated.
While the master strode away, Miguel lifted Honoria to her feet and drug her to the cellar stairs. They then moved rapidly through the narrow passageways into the wine cellar and behind the wooden rack where the dungeon was hidden from the rest of the house. Rupert had taken great pains to be sure the room was well insulated for sound; he wanted a place he could work over women unrestrained.
“Down in the hole,” Miguel ordered his charge with a barking command. The demand was new to her, although she’d often noticed the several openings in the floor beside the cold stone wall and wondered what they were for. There was just enough room for her to step inside where her feet hit bottom in the dark space below, and then turn around. She cringed, expecting that any second a mouse or rat would be nibbling at her toes.
Just as Rupert ordered, her mouth was at crotch height. An ingenious design!
Miguel worked quickly, strapping the woman’s naked body to the wall, at the neck, at the waist, and at her thighs. He pulled her arms up and to the side, strapping them at the elbows and wrists so tightly that the rough brick scratched her skin.
When Rupert swaggered in, she knew to be ready for his stiff organ to ram her throat. She gulped nervously, taking on the attitude of surrender, as she watched the man move forward and unzip his pants. Almost before his erection was completely free, he slammed his groin into Honoria’s face, expecting and finding her mouth wide open. He hit his mark and didn’t stop the violent thrusts until he was ready to ejaculate. She was no more to him than a sex doll. And although her jaws could hardly open enough to handle the immense size of his organ, she became what he needed her to be. Her mind disconnected and her body melded with the stone behind her. Her mouth was no more than a soft opening in the hard wall of life that a man could use to assuage his inner fury. By the time Rupert withdrew from her, her bare crotch was dripping sex juice, attesting to her own desire. The liquid slithered down her thigh and trickled to her feet leaving the evidence available for anyone watching to notice.
“Keep her strapped to the wall for now. I have other plans for her later,” Rupert said brusquely, as he zipped his pants, scowling at the vacant expression on the woman’s face. He’d rather see her hurting, but this wasn’t bad for an afternoon’s fix. “I think the needles might inspire a little more anguish in the slut.” He looked at her crotch, seeing the wetness on her thighs glistening in the flickering lamplight, then moved to the door motioning Miguel to follow.
A moment later, the dungeon went black.
Honoria’s bones ached by the time Miguel returned to the room. His lantern blinded her eyes.
He started with her hands undoing the straps, moved to her elbows, her neck, her waist, her thighs, until she was finally freed from the wall. Her limbs were so weak that Miguel had to lift her from the well and onto the table that stood in the center of the room. While her heart begged for some relief, her weary mind understood that another horror would soon follow. Was Rupert trying to break her? she wondered silently.
At least, there was some reprieve for her hurting limbs. She had no idea how many hours she had been bound to the wall—it might have been just minutes. But regardless, her body felt as if it had been beaten for hours.
Honoria was strapped in again, her arms above her head, her legs bent and spread wide apart. The focus was on her sex lips; with her legs so positioned, her crotch was left vulnerably open.
“Ever been pierced?” the surly Miguel asked her.
“No, sir.”
Pleased to hear this, he smiled in his smarmy way and went on with the task.
Honoria watched carefully as the man fit his thick hands into latex gloves; she chilled hearing them snap against his wrists.
From a small metal case, he left lying beside her, Miguel pulled out long piercing needles with razor sharp ends. After swathing her labia with disinfectant, he lifted one plump sex lip and with startling swiftness, shoved the needle through the flesh. A spike of pain rushed her body, causing her to buck involuntarily, though strapped to the table, she hardly moved.
“Ah, yeah, that hurts, huh?” Miguel observed. “And it’s just the first,” he shook his head, “The man says ten, and I tell him that’s a lot in one night, even if she is a painslut. But he insists. What the man wants, he gets. Hey, at least they aren’t permanent.” He talked like a friend. “Course taking them out will probably hurt almost as much as putting them in.”
This was all the apology Honoria would get for the pain that continued to rain through her body like a shower of fiery sparks. Miguel pierced each labia three times, making a row, then he speared the hood of her clitoris. She shrieked, arching her back on that one as the pain turned her entire crotch into a ball of fire. She had almost lost consciousness by the time he moved to her nipples, but she was aware enough that she began to weep quietly. The suddenness of each piercing was not something she could get used to and her sorrowful tears continued until there were two needles skewering each nipple. Each needle was three inches long so they extended far beyond the flesh, making any movement or change in her position difficult.
Her heart beat fast, her breathing was ragged.
“Hey it’s done, slut. Relax.”
Relax? Inhumane! Impossible! Nevertheless, she tried.
The enormity of her pain finally subsided until she was left with a dull but very potent ache that could not be ignored. She hoped Miguel was finished, but the needles were just a start. From each one, he fixed tiny chains on either side of the pierce and connected them to the other chains in her pubic nest. The effect was a heavy weight on the already stretched skin. Her whole being burned with pain.
“I feel faint,” she gulped, as her lightheadedness made it difficult to concentrate.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Miguel assured her, slapping her face lightly to rouse her. “He’ll get rid of you for sure if you fail him.”
Yes, she remembered Rupert’s words. Don’t fail me.
It wouldn’t bother her to fail the man, but it wasn’t her he planned to sell. She had to protect Antonia. “No, no, I won’t fail.” She took a deep breath, and the storm of pain subsided for a second.
“See, I knew you’d be okay,” Miguel said.
Already her mind was coming around. Then with Miguel’s fingers carefully playing just inside the opening of her vagina, a welcome rush of sexual heat transformed her suffering into erotic sensations. This was not pleasure, just yet. But it was bearable.
“You are one fine bitch,” Miguel said, with genuine admiration. “Ah, yes, wet. What a slut!”
She heard footsteps; Rupert coming in the room.
“Stand her up!” he ordered.
“Hey, I’m not sure she can do that,” Miguel said.
“Stand her up!”
Three men pressed into the room behind Rupert. All four men watched Miguel methodically unstrap the pierced Honoria and bring her to her feet. The pain from the needles and the weighty chains almost made h
er knees buckle, but Miguel caught her, and played with her from behind, bringing back the sexual arousal that made the torture sufferable.
“So, here she is, gentlemen,” Rupert proudly presented the woman, while Miguel affixed Honoria’s wrists to a metal bar above her head. “My wife’s mother—but much more importantly, a sex slave on the trading block for whatever the price will bear. I’ve never seen a woman with such submissive instincts as this one. She naturally turns every plight into a source of pleasure. She feeds on abuse. And yet, she retains her beauty. The soft quality of innocent youth has never diminished.” Rupert turned to his guests. “What do you think?”
“You want a price?” One of the men observed Honoria carefully, moving around her body taking snapshots in his mind.
“I hoped to get an idea of her value,” Rupert said.
“What about the girl?”
“She’s possibly available, but not now, not yet.”
Honoria winced inside hearing this, but said nothing. She hoped her submission would save Antonia, but maybe there was nothing she could do to protect her daughter from this savage man.
“I think the pair would be perfect,” the one man said.
“Exactly,” another agreed.
The comments and speculation continued between the four, until they’d seen enough of Honoria and her suffering.
As Rupert was leaving the room, Miguel waited for his further instructions.
For a moment, the master gazed at the woman until at last a cruel smiled appeared on his face. “Oh, she’s been such a good sport. Why don’t you stuff her with a vibrator and see if she can come.”
“So, I’ll remove the needles?”
“Sure. But only after she comes. You’ll like that.”
Apparently, he did. Once the four men were gone, Miguel followed Rupert’s instructions and stuffed a fat vibrator into Honoria’s vagina. This was a delicate procedure considering the way the needles and chains had to be carefully pulled aside. Once he had the dildo inserted, he strapped it in so it wouldn’t slide out. Then he turned it on and stood back to watch.
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