by David Saxon
“Thank you,” she said sleepily. I couldn’t believe my ears. She had changed unbelievably from a cast iron bitch to a nymphomaniac in less than twenty-four hours. It was so astounding that I shook my head in amazement and asked:
“What’s with you, woman, you obviously enjoy love-making yet you deny yourself for years with your husband? I just don’t understand that!”
Her eyes remained closed and she did not answer me. I shrugged my shoulders, uncaring of an answer. Perhaps the explanation was too trite and obvious to be voiced. I dropped it and set about preparing for her one last thing before wishing her a good night. Dismounting, I went to a nearby table laden with bottles and jars and mixed a sleeping draught. I didn’t want her worn out by a sleepless night for there was much to be done tomorrow. Into the small beaker with the liquid draught I put a spoonful of a special powder, one I had had a chemist mix for me designed to promote lactation. I wanted those beautiful tits to produce milk. Kerry Roget had to learn of all the pleasures she had denied herself and her husband. And, besides, I really wanted to suckle on her. I stirred the concoction with a small amount of water and delivered it to her. “Drink this.” I ordered. “It will help you sleep.”
“What is it?”
“I want you well rested tonight and perhaps in the morning you may feel a very pleasurable tingling in those delicious breasts.”
“Why, what do you mean?” She tried to push the beaker away. “What are you giving me?” No ... no!” “Just a gentle medication to help you to produce milk”
“No! … I … No!” She shook her head.
I grabbed a handful of hair and held her head still. “You, darling girl, have no say in the matter. Now drink it like a good lass or I will hold your nose and pour it down your throat.”
Chapter 2
When I descended into the cellar the next morning I found it cooler than I had expected and was obliged to crank up the heat just a little. In her cubicle I found Kerry awake and spitting fire. “You left me down here alone all night!” she wailed angrily. The blanket, I saw, had slipped to the floor so I guess she must have been a little cold.
I examined her restraints with leisurely ease, testing each part of rope and chain to see that it was tight and that the chastity belt was comfortably in place. I had no doubt, of course, that it would be. The restraints I had had made were of the best and would not give an inch no matter how long I chose to keep her secured in them. “But you slept the whole night through?” To show any spark of sympathy would have given Kerry something to exploit. She was, I knew, very quick at finding any such weakness so my voice was harsh. I could not afford even the slightest hint of opportunity for a snapdragon like her. Are your breasts tingling with the medication?” I reached for the jellied mounds and thought them to be a little firmer. I grasped an erect nipple and tweaked it hard “Ooooow … Stop that!”
“We have a busy day ahead of us.”
“So what? Get these damned things out of me! I want the toilet!” “Were they nice and uncomfortable.”
“I slept most of the night, how the hell should I know? They bloody well are now.”
I smiled knowing that she was not ready to admit to me the pleasure she got from the chastity belt. “They use these things on wayward school girls in Japan.” Releasing the lock I gently unscrewed the front dildo and withdrew it.
“Aaaah! I can’t help it … ooooh!”
Her warm pee flooded over my hand. Now here was something interesting. The dildo I had inserted into her sex was big enough to stretch it nicely but it would not prevent urination so Kerry must have held it all night. I gazed into her eyes trying to guess what motivation prevented her from peeing. I shrugged my shoulders, presuming it to be nothing more than natural instinct not to wet the bed. I said nothing and she hated my silence.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”
I thrust a hand beneath her, letting it slide through the cooling pee and began to unscrew the rear dildo. She sighed and cried out in anticipation.
Slowly I withdrew the steel shaft from her rose hole. I watched carefully for any signs of mishap. It came out reluctantly. There were a few traces so I thrust it into her mouth for a cleaning. She gagged and cursed until I threatened her with a slap and a gag to hold it there for a long time. I worked it in and out of her mouth for a minute or two, holding her chin to keep it there, until the steel was brilliantly clean then took it away. Disgust welled up in her eyes. I must erase that emotion from her completely. She had to learn that there is nothing sexually that can be done between two consenting adults that is disgusting. Okay, so my definition of consent may be a little awry. Her rose hole was going to get the very stiffest of attention and very frequently indeed. Anal tightness was something of a predilection with me as she was going to find out.
“Now,” I said, “I am going to take off the chastity belt. Was that so very uncomfortable?”
“You asked me that before. What d’you want me to say? My stomach churned a little as if I … eh … you know … but no...”
“Whether it was or it wasn’t is immaterial. You shall wear it every night for as long as I see fit.” My tone was sharp and brooked no dispute. I helped her off the couch. She fell into my arms.
“My legs are so stiff, you bastard, keeping me locked up like that all night, damn you!” “You’ll grow to love it, you’ll see.”
“Ooooooh … the toilet ...quick!”
An hour later, exercised, bathed and breakfasted on milky cereal laced with more lactating powders, fruit juice and toast with butter and marmalade, Kerry was restored enough to face the rigours of the day. I was keen to stretch her by putting her to every one of my machines in order to find those to which she would readily adjust to on a daily basis. I have learned over the years that to subject a slave to something she would find really abhorrent was entirely unproductive. Besides I was growing rather fond of Kerry and wanted her to enjoy the experiences. Of course, as the saying goes, there is no gain without pain.
That day I decided to try her on the beam. This is a length of timber, about two inches thick, with a rolled edge uppermost supported on four adjustable legs. I urged her to straddle it and took pains to ensure that her pussy lips were spread so that it prised them apart. In this position I tied her with ropes from a broad neck collar to hold her upright and two more from the sides stopped her from keeling over. Her feet were flat on the floor. I bent low to examine her seat upon the bar and urged her with a gentle pressing of her shoulders to put her weight on the seat by bending her knees.
“How’s that?”
“Eeeem ... rather nice actually.”
Each leg of the bar was fitted with a crank wheel with which to raise and lower it. I bent to one of the back ones and turned it to extend the leg several notches. She moved herself slyly but I saw a glistening sheen of her sex mucus on the varnished wood. I went round to the left and raised the other back leg to the same amount. Her ankles lifted so that only her toes touched the floor. That alarmed her slightly. To the front of the machine I bent and raised the left leg so that the horse was now canted. The toes of her left foot were clear of the floor. Her weight was settling on the beam very nicely. When the final leg was raised and her whole weight was pressing down on her pussy lips she cried out and called me a bastard. I had repeatedly warned her about that so now, tired of her objections, I fetched the tawse and gave her several cracks across her large, beautiful rump. She howled in a most satisfactory way so I continued and demanded that she count the strokes. For a long time there was silence in the room save for the slaps of the tawse applied with increasing force to create a pattern of dark, blood-suffused stripes on her delightfully wobbling ass and her hoarse counting of the strokes. She knew better than to cry out. At fifty I relented and stopped.
“I’m sorry ... sorry … sorry!” she cried.
I dropped the tawse not
because I was tired or because I had given her enough but because I had a sudden urge to add another little pain intensifier to her beautiful body. I was gone but a minute yet Kerry Roget managed to follow me all the way with a string of adjectives that would make, as they say, a Marine blush. She was not sorry at all but she very soon would be. Her unseemly behaviour made me all the more determined to inflict upon her everything that was necessary to bring her to order. Her pain threshold, I had already discovered, was high, but now I was going to play one pain off against another to open up a whole new dimension.
Nipple clamps, like the bar itself had the added piquancy that after a longish spell enduring the pain of compression the pain of decompression was almost as great. The clamps I favour are fitted with screw threads so that tightening and releasing can be done with minute adjustments over a nice long time. Not like those crude spring-loaded things that are about as subtle as Torquemada’s hammers. Carefully I screwed the first clamp to her left nipple, teasing the nub to erection then winding the screw until the tiny padded faces had closed over it and were squeezing with little more pressure than a pair of demanding lips. I went round to the other side and did the same with that nipple. It is an interesting aside to note that a woman’s breasts are seldom of the same size. Kerry’s left breast was slightly larger than her right one. Reaching across her and smiling into her happy face I began to tighten both clamps together. She looked down at my working hands and covered them with her own. It was a gentle touch of love. How fickle are women! I turned the screws slowly, watching each nipple as it was squeezed. Kerry’s breathed became heavier. Her chest rose and fell and her skin flushed a glowing red. “Aaaah!” she cried out and went entirely rigid. Her body radiated an intense heat. She cried out again. Her breathing became ragged and quick. She clutched my hands tightly and sighed and squealed. The natural scent of her invaded the small room as she came with an echoing cry. She was thrown against the supporting ropes in violent paroxysms. Her arms dropped to her sides and her head fell forward. The climax had exhausted her.
When she was calmed down and recovered I continued to screw the nipple clamps closed. I tightened them more quickly now. The little pads closed on her nipples until there was less than a couple of millimetres of compressed flesh between them. That must be painful I was sure but apart from wincing once or twice as the clamps tightened Kerry made no sound except for shortened heavy breathing. She behaved almost as if as if she didn’t notice. That contented half smile played on her lips. I was noticing now, in her many small mannerisms, that Kerry was beginning to enjoy a newfound and meaningful awareness of the power and sensitivity of her body.
I kissed her lovingly on the mouth, forcing her lips apart so that our tongues intertwined wetly. It was an intimacy I seldom accorded a client. Her lips moved excitedly, crushing against mine with the eagerness of the hungry. Again I wondered why such a sexy woman had deprived herself for so long. She brought her hands up and held my face as she kissed and pecked at it enthusiastically.
“I love you … I love you!” She spoke between kisses and her scented breath was hot on my face. I returned the passionate kisses with interest but only to make her mouth really wet. With one hand I unzipped my trousers and pulled out my raging cock. I guided one of her hands to it. She clasped it and began to stroke up and down tightening and loosening the grip as it slid from glans to base moving quicker and quicker as my excitement grew. I was not usually given to wanking off even at the hand of a woman but something in the sheer power of her being was an aphrodisiac that could not be denied. She tossed me off. Her breathing was loud as I kissed her face pecking at her soft skin in my turn. My hands rifled through her hair and as my cum boiled up in my balls I gripped a handful of it and forced her head back so that I could kiss her throat and neck, one of the woman’s most erogenous zones. She gasped into my nuzzling; breathed into my quickened breathing and in the moment drew from my rampant cock the elixir of life.
“Oooooh fuck it, that’s it … oh!”
I came with a loud cry and spattered her hand, her arm and her thigh with my copious offering.
Kerry sighed as she watched the cum arc on to her body. She made a disappointed pout of her lips. “I don’t like wasting the beautiful stuff,” she said softly. “It should be inside me somewhere.”
I felt very like Pygmalion who brought his beautiful, cold, stone statue of Galatea to life. I had in Kerry converted a stone cold body into a beautiful woman of warm flesh and blood. It was gratifying but I had to be careful that she didn’t fall for me too hard. Unlike Pygmalion I didn’t want her for myself, however desirable her body is and her mind would become, remembering that sooner rather than later, I was obliged to send her back to her husband and her children. God, though, she was heart-rendingly beautiful.
“Somewhere?” I asked with raised eyebrows.
She smiled again, coquettishly. “Yes.” She made a movement of her body within the tight restraints of the ropes and, so far as the bar would permit, left me in no doubt as to her wishes. I knew the movement must have crushed her pussy on to the bar because I saw a shadow of pain cross her face. She didn’t cry out and soon settled down once more apparently content to let her pussy be compressed on the hard timber.
“All in good time, my little love bird.”
“Are you going to leave me like this all day?” “I had rather thought so.”
“With my hands loose so that I can undo these ropes?”
I nodded. “If you unscrew those clamps you will see how painful the returning blood flow is.”
Kerry cupped her breasts looking down at the tightly squeezed nipples. She contemplated them for some time. I didn’t know what was going through her mind but the vision she presented astride the bar was truly magnificent. She rode it like a true champion. I wondered if she was seriously thinking about releasing herself from the bar but came to the conclusion, judging by the look of happiness on her face, that she was content to stay put for as long as I wished. Just to make sure I decided to cuff her ankles and from those padded rings take a few turns of rope through ring bolts set into the floor, tightening them enough to increase the pressure on her pussy a little bit more. The pain of that compression would increase gradually as the day wore on.
“Ooooh ... you didn’t have to do that!” “True.”
Kerry adapted very well over the next fortnight. After daily rides on the bar, often for more than four hours at a time and her harnessing into the chastity belt with its two penetrating dildos every night she became wonderfully acquiescent. The harsh diet I had imposed was effective in reducing her small spare tyre so that her waist was now beautifully trim. The daily milk inducing drugs had increased her breast size by two brassiere cups and milk was beginning to flow. When I suckled on them I received the rich sweet nectar in rewarding trickles.
The remainder of each day was devoted to housework. Under no circumstances was I going to allow her to wear clothes but I demanded that she wear splendidly high heels so that she walked with a seductive wiggle that I never tired of watching. I loved the way her bottom cheeks rolled.
A tight fitting plug I had inserted into her rose hole was removable only when she needed the loo. At all other times, I warned her, whenever I came into the room she was to bend down and show me, by prising her cheeks apart, that it was well in place. I bent her over so that I could put the finishing touches to the pose I wanted her to adopt every time. Her gloriously large bum with smooth skin, blemished only by marks of the tawse, was a wonder to behold. It always threw me into heated turmoil and to hard erection. I was so eager to fuck her ass that the torment of making her wait for it was playing more havoc with my own emotions than I believe it was with Kerry’s.
Then one day I could no longer hold back and decided, right there and then, that I was going to enjoy what I knew would be the most astounding of pleasures for both of us. It was after I had cause to give her
a really sound beating for spilling water on the floor. I had laid it on with a will. Her beautiful bottom was raised in perfect posture as I bent her over the arm of a settee. So large and rounded I stroked it, kissed it and admired it with all my nerves tingling. Perfection itself was that reddened and well heated ass yet so cool to the touch yet so alive, so entrancingly active that it radiated a wanton heat. My cock had hardened to iron rigidity and was ready to penetrate that virgin hole. My balls were tight with the massive load I was going to inject into her hot receptive bowels. But first I had to give her the punishment I knew she craved. It had taken me a long time to train her to count the strokes of the tawse. In the midst of counting I would lay on a particularly hard stroke that caused her to cry out, a sin in itself justifying another three strokes. Losing count meant I had to start all over again so that say twelve strokes to her left cheek, right cheek or both together extended often to thirty or more. I felt sure that on occasions she deliberately miscounted to extend the pleasure she got from the chastisement.
The lashings always brightened her bum to a hot incarnadine hue criss-crossed with marked stripes of darker shades that radiated an intense heat. She wriggled so sweetly under the tawse that my desire for her reached a climactic peak of excitement I never before remembered with any of my clients. Well, now the moment was come. I threw down the tawse impatiently neglecting to let her kiss it or even to thank me for the chastisement.
“Don’t move in inch, Kerry,” I warned in a haggard voice. “The time has come, little Miss Prim, for the ultimate joy.” So rampant was I that, done with words, I fell to my knees between her legs and removed the plug against a natural suction and straightway plunged my face between her hot roseate cheeks. My tongue was long and stiff in its penetrating. It slipped through the tight rubbery ring and searched within savouring the delicious heat. Kerry wriggled anew at the violation.