by David James
‘Lean away from each other,’ commanded Diane, and obediently the two girls moved as far apart as they could, moving their shoulders back and tilting their heads, exposing more of their breasts and erect nipples.
Diane moved to the side, and raising the whip above her head she swept it down between them, so that the two pairs of milky breasts received the full force of the leather thongs. The pain was agonising and the girls’ screams rent the air as their backs arched and they stumbled heavily to one side, dragging the cleat from the ceiling before falling onto the couch, still locked together. Diane looked down on them and eyed Martha’s exposed sex, leaking glistening juices, and reached down to finger her boss, pinching the sensitive labia and taking great pleasure in watching her wince.
Mistress released the girls from their restraints, but for Martha it was a temporary reprieve. Still crying, she was quickly spread-eagled on her back on the floor, her wrists and ankles fastened to rings that held her firmly down. Diane eyed the unmarked flesh of Martha’s front, save for the crimson weals across the tops of her breasts. She crouched down and drew back the leather crotch of her thong, so that her own wet sex was directly above the welts, and rubbed her juices across the bright red ridges she’d raised. Lifting herself slightly she slipped her fingers deep inside herself, then brought them out and offered one, slick with her juices, for Martha to lick, before spreading her cream into the marked breasts.
‘What,’ she asked in her low voice, ‘would be the most humiliating experience you could imagine?’
‘I... I don’t know,’ Martha replied uncertainly.
‘Think,’ Diane commanded. ‘I want to know.’
‘Being beaten?’ came the tentative reply.
Mistress interrupted. ‘Being beaten can be physical humiliation, yes, but what about mental humiliation? It’s intensified if the person thrashing you is someone you’re close to rather than someone like me, providing a service you pay for.’
The mists of pain were beginning to clear as Martha considered their point, stretching her back to ease the discomfort, and then she cautiously offered, ‘And even worse of that person was someone I’d expect to look up to me, someone I would normally delegate to, not the other way around...’
Diane smiled wickedly. Things were going her way.
‘And what about mental humiliation?’ asked Mistress.
‘Being tied up and not knowing when I’m going to be released,’ Martha said, opening up with the gentle prompting. ‘Or being forced to do sexual things that I might normally find a real turn off.’
‘And what might you find a turn off?’ Diane probed.
Martha winced and tried to think through her discomfort. She was still eager and Mistress could see by the flexing of her tummy and thighs that the idea of further humiliation excited her. She knew when Martha had first come to her and been held down so that Sophie could force her strap-on into her bottom she’d sobbed that she couldn’t bear it. But after Sophie had eased it deep inside her and was thrusting rhythmically she not only loved it, she orgasmed powerfully and afterwards wanted more. Mistress knew she would choose something she felt she shouldn’t be prepared to accept but that she would actually welcome.
‘I want an answer,’ demanded Diane. ‘What couldn’t you cope with? Would you like me to start matching those marks on your tits with more across your stomach?’
‘No, no,’ Martha hastened. ‘Please, no.’
Diane picked up the whip and ran the knotted thongs across Martha’s tummy, screwing the solid end of the shaft from which the fronds sprung between her thighs and dragging it between her swollen labia. Martha writhed and twisted as she tried to accommodate the pain still burning her back and buttocks with the probing of the tender flesh of her sex lips.
Diane lifted the stock, now wet with Martha’s juices, and examined Martha’s honey-gold curls. They were thick and glossy and had been carefully trimmed to a neat triangle, the edges providing a clean line between hairs and the crease where her thighs curved into her torso. She crouched down and pulled the hairs reflectively, pinching a tiny clump between finger and thumb before yanking them out sharply.
Martha screamed. ‘Ow! No, please,’ she cried again.
Diane repeated the spiteful act, and then mused, ‘This will take far too long. Sophie, bring me a pair of scissors and a razor.’
Martha protested, but strapped down and helpless as she was there was nothing else she could do.
‘For goodness sake don’t fuss,’ Mistress snapped. ‘All slaves should be shaven. It puts them firmly in their place. I can’t think why you should be an exception.’
Martha was shaking as Sophie returned with the scissors and a cutthroat razor, and sobbed while her lovely curls were firstly snipped away. Diane delighted in the golden surround to Martha’s pouting sex gradually being removed, but handed over to her Mistress when it came to using the razor.
‘Now, be still,’ Mistress commanded. ‘I don’t want to inadvertently nick you with this. It’s extremely sharp, so be warned.’
She rubbed a little shaving cream into the remaining stubble, and then expertly drew the blade across her fair skin, leaving a pristine finish behind. ‘Open wide,’ she ordered, and when Martha didn’t immediately respond she slapped her denuded and tender sex mound, whereupon Martha gasped pitifully, lifted her hips and parted her thighs so Mistress could remove every last trace of hair.
‘There, that looks much better,’ Mistress said with satisfaction. ‘And it has achieved two objectives; you really look like a slave now, and you have a better understanding of what true humiliation means.’
She crouched down beside Martha, and although she thought she knew the answer she whispered, ‘We can go on, or we can stop if you prefer.’ She reached down between Martha’s legs and felt the continuing seepage of juices.
‘Puh-please do whatever you want with me, Mistress,’ Martha stammered, blinking back her tears. ‘You must be the judge of the punishment, and I must try to endure.’
‘Quite right, Martha, you are learning your lessons well. So now you have to thank me and Mistress Dee.’
‘Thank you, Mistress,’ Martha said quietly. ‘Thank you, Mistress Dee.’
‘No, no; I think you can do better than that...’ Mistress taunted.
‘Oh, Mistresses, you have both been so understanding of my needs,’ Martha tried again. ‘I really am so, so grateful.’
‘That’s a little better,’ Mistress declared. ‘So perhaps you deserve a little treat.’
Diane stroked the smooth and naked mound of Martha’s sex, and pressed a hand between her legs, parting her lips and examining the hard clitoris peeping expectantly from its hood. She gently caressed the quivering nub and felt Martha tense as her body reacted to the unexpected but very welcome pleasure. Her buttocks rose and rotated despite their soreness, and she began to flex her hips. Her ordeal had drained her physical reserves in one sense, but now she desperately needed to feel a climax coursing through her, allowing the exquisite relief that can only be attained through a sexual peak. Diane gave her clit a little more stimulation, feeling her own channel beginning to flow with juices as she did so.
‘You’re very wet, little one,’ Diane whispered. ‘Are you sure this is all sex juice and you’re not leaking from that lovely little piss hole of yours?’
Martha was immediately brought up short. She ached with the need to orgasm but she was horrified by the embarrassing suggestion. ‘No,’ she objected, ‘it isn’t.’
‘Well, it certainly looks suspicious.’ Diane leaned closer and sniffed. ‘Yes, it seems you have become over excited. That’s very naughty, Martha. You’ll have to be punished again, I’m afraid.’
Diane’s voice, although still low, was very matter of fact. Martha had behaved badly and must therefore pay the price. A quiver of anticipation ran through her as she realised that the ultimate humiliation of M
artha was within her grasp. She dabbed a little of the secretion onto her fingertips and held them beneath Martha’s nose. ‘What do you think?’
Martha sniffed carefully and blushed a deep red. ‘Yes, Mistress Dee, perhaps you’re right,’ she said meekly, feeling deliciously like a naughty little girl. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I think we’ll have to teach you another little lesson, my dear. Just for your own good, you understand.’ She rose and stood over Martha, magnificent, sexually exciting and extraordinarily beautiful - in what she now realised was her element.
‘Now what would be an appropriate punishment?’ she mused theatrically. ‘Ah, I have it. Sophie, get the special flask from the fridge.’
Sophie was the only one who caught the sharp intake of breath from the cell as Chloe realised that the urine drained from him a few hours before was going to be used to further debase Martha. He had only picked up a little of the scenario going on in the training room, but he already felt instinctively close to Martha and wanted to protect her. But on the other hand, there was absolutely nothing he could do and if he drew attention to himself he might incur the wrath of his Mistress, so he decided to keep quiet.
Sophie moved across the room and returned a few moments later, as Mistress crouched down beside Martha once again. ‘You can stop this if you want to,’ she whispered.
‘No, Mistress, whatever you both do, I know it will be good for me,’ Martha replied bravely.
Diane crouched on the other side. ‘You have a choice, little one. In the flask is urine that we took from one of your companion slaves, a male, a few hours ago. You can drink it, or you can drink directly from me. The flask is chilled and my urine will be warm. Another difference is that you can see how much is in the flask but you have no idea how much I have stored in my bladder. Which is it to be?’
Martha turned her head towards Mistress. ‘Must I, Mistress?’ she whispered.
‘You may do as you please, Martha, but as a slave I imagine that you want to please Mistress Dee and me first and yourself second. You’ve been given a choice, which I consider very generous of Mistress Dee.’
Martha’s body relaxed. ‘Of course, Mistress, I’m sorry... I’ll drink your pee please, Mistress Dee.’
She settled back and closed her eyes, fully accepting her submissive role for the first time. She sensed rather saw Diane take off her thong, and knew she was standing over her. She opened her eyes for a moment and thrilled as she saw the long, silk-clad legs bend, one each side of her head, lowering and easing open her labia onto her mouth.
Diane slid forward slightly. ‘Lick me first,’ she commanded. ‘I want to know that you really want me to do this.’
‘I do, Mistress,’ Martha was able to gasp, before she began to tongue Diane’s clit with a passion and yearning she’d never felt before.
Diane rocked backwards and forwards on her slave’s face, enjoying the sensation of her lips and tongue working against the engorged sensitivity of her wet cunt. She moved more quickly as Martha’s enthusiastic tongue began to stimulate waves of glorious vibrations through her body. At the same time she was mentally celebrating the incredible sensation of raw power over the person who virtually ruled her working life, and the ultimate humiliation of another human being. The twin excitements were building to a climax she was sure would be one of the most momentous of her life, and that feeling persisted as the heat built within her body and the spasms wound through her muscles, tensing every sinew as she ground down on Martha’s mouth and squeezed the inquisitive tongue deep within her sex.
Her climax erupted and continued wave upon wave for many delicious minutes. Each time she seemed to be coming down from the incredible peak of extraordinary pleasure, her slave’s ministrations took her back up to another summit. The perspiration seeped from every pore of her body and she could feel the juice from her cunt flooding into Martha’s mouth. But slowly, inevitably she came down from the heights and relaxed on her slave, allowing her warm golden liquid to flow into Martha’s mouth and convulsing throat.
The intensity of Diane’s orgasm transferred directly to the supine, trapped, exhausted Martha, and she also enjoyed the most incredible climax. The power, strength and confidence of her Mistress’s release created a warmth and flow of love, affection and devotion from her, and she luxuriated in the knowledge that it had been her suffering and humiliation, both past and to come, that allowed her Mistress to react so strongly. She felt a tide of goodwill as she felt the climax ripple through the toned body of the woman squatting on her flushed face. And as her tension subsided she knew that all she needed to complete her total and joyful subservience to Mistress Dee was to relax and allow her Mistress’s rich, golden liquid to be released into her open, expectant mouth. Her horror and disgust at the prospect had disappeared and she rejoiced in being able to fulfil her Mistress’s needs.
As she tasted the first rich drops of urine she sucked against Mistress Dee’s cunt, willing her to know that she wanted and welcomed her gift and, in fact, saw her acceptance of the warm liquor as her own gift to her Mistress. She swallowed hard as the stream increased to a torrent, before eventually slowing to a dribble, and she was left sucking the last drops as Mistress Dee flexed her muscles to squeeze her bladder empty.
Diane herself was drained in every sense as she allowed her stomach muscles to totally relax so that the full flow of her piss streamed directly into Martha’s mouth and was eagerly swallowed. Both collapsed, exhausted from their comings, Martha settling back onto the floor despite the pain from her marks, and Diane flopping down across her.
Sophie gazed wide-eyed at the scene, her own sex throbbing with desire, but nor daring to interfere. Her Mistress took pity on her.
‘Come here, my darling,’ she whispered, ‘and suck me until I come. If you do well I’ll let you come too.’
She lay back on the couch, her bottom at the edge, and raised her knees up towards her breasts, allowing her thighs to part and her succulent sex lips to open, exposing her pinkness for Sophie to attend to.
‘Oh, thank you, Mistress,’ Sophie replied gratefully as she knelt down on the floor and her Mistress draped her calves over her shoulders. She leaned forward and had the satisfaction of sensing her Mistress’s body relax as her tongue began its exploration up and down the luscious cleft. Her Mistress’s secretions were positively bubbling forth and she lapped them eagerly, slipping the tip of her tongue deep inside the opening slit and savouring her delicious juices before swallowing them. She locked her mouth to the soft labia and licked deep inside her Mistress before moving her mouth up and concentrating all her being on teasing the swollen clit. She swirled her tongue under, around and over the hard nub, savouring the taste of the fluid that coated her busy lips and seeped down her throat. Her Mistress’s muscles began to shudder and flex and Sophie clamped her hands to her hips, so she could hold herself in exactly the right position as her Mistress writhed and quivered, and then bucked and groaned with the amazing explosion of her orgasm, wrapping her legs tightly around Sophie’s head, trapping her between her thighs. Sophie was in her seventh heaven and continued to move her tongue inside that sublime, clutching tunnel as her Mistress gradually returned to earth.
As she relaxed she asked Diane to strap a large dildo onto Martha. ‘I promised you an orgasm, my dear,’ she told Sophie as Diane buckled the harness on the languid Martha. ‘You may choose to ride her as you wish, and wherever you want to be penetrated.’
‘Thank you, Mistress,’ Sophie replied. ‘I think it’s too big for my bottom, but can I at least try first?’
‘Of course; I think you have greater capacity than you think.’
Sophie reached for the small jar on offer and covered the phallus in KY jelly, allowing it to slide down its length and drip through the harness onto Martha’s naked sex mound. She began by squatting, facing Martha’s feet, but Diane suggested that she would have greater pleasure if she
watched the slave as she reached her orgasm, so she turned around.
Martha was still weary and uncomfortable, and winced as Sophie brought her weight down on the bulbous head of the dildo. She knew that the base, held by the ring attached to the harness, would be pressing on Martha’s tender, shaven mound and that the twisting and turning pressure required to force the phallus inside her tight rear passage would bring more discomfort for the woman beneath her. But her need came well before any discomfort experienced by Martha, so she began to press her rear entrance down on the rounded head of the phallus. She felt her sphincter give way gradually under the pressure. Her vagina flooded again with the juices of her need and she pressed, feeling her muscles protesting, protecting the tightness of her anus. A sharp pain reminded her of the size of the intruder she continued to press her ring of muscle down upon until, with a yelp of mingled pain and excitement she felt the length of the shaft slide up into her rear tunnel.
Beneath her Martha was exhausted but realised that her part of the mechanism was to give her friend pleasure. So despite her discomfort and fatigue she began to engage her hips in time with Sophie’s thrusts. Sophie moved up and down, savouring the solidity of the phallus, grinding herself down upon it and allowing it to delight every nerve, sinew and muscle of her anus and cunt so that she engendered a massive climax that shook her body and sent waves of exquisite excitement right through her. Even though she was quite exhausted, Martha’s pleasure was rekindled as her movements reflected those of Sophie, and as the dildo finally consummated its objective and Sophie shrieked her pleasure, Martha also underwent a final, shattering climax.
The four women remained silent and unmoving for some time, each of their physical and mental dreams fulfilled. Mistress was the first to raise her fatigued body and suggest that they adjourn for first a shower and then a glass of wine.
The others gradually roused themselves, Sophie reluctantly allowing the phallus to withdraw with a deep, sucking sound. She wondered whether Mistress would trigger the ultimate humiliation on Martha and suggest that Diane remove her mask and reveal her true identity as Martha’s personal assistant. She could imagine nothing more undignified for a woman of Martha’s power and prestige to discover that after the privations of the last few hours, they had been heaped upon her by someone whom she considered little more than a servant.