“Ahhhhhh, sir!” she drooped into his chest, but he pushed her back upright.
“Remove your clothes.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered. It was too quiet in the building to speak loudly.
Her fingers flew, nervous and inefficiently, though she had her dress falling to the floor just seconds after his demand. It was all she wore except a pair of shoes—and she stumbled out of them, too. Becoming naked was an easy order to obey.
Barefoot and buck naked, it would seem she’d give herself away… pussy wet, chest heaving erotically, lust written with every labored breath.
“Take off the collar, too,” he said.
This was harder with the leather heavy and the buckle thick and unwieldy. She jerked and tugged for several seconds until the clasp finally popped free and the simple leather band was discarded at her feet. Her nakedness seemed even more profound without the collar to define who she was.
A second later, the door opened from the inside and she stepped forward, pushed from the rear by Justin Booker’s firm hand.
The Guild office was simple: faded Oriental rugs, antique chairs, an antique desk and table, several stools and props of the same vintage, and finally the accoutrements of sadomasochistic scenes: dangling ropes, chains hung against a wall, a female poised on hands and knees as an end table between two over-stuffed chairs, while another stood naked at attention with a drink tray in her hands. A third female could not be seen from the doorway; she was crouched with her nose in the corner, collared, bound and posed for punishment.
kari’s stirred emotions beat on anxiously. She could smell the leather and hear it creak when one of the masters in the room squirmed in his chair. She expected suit and tie, or smoking jackets and the aroma of burning tobacco from fat cigars. Against the backdrop of a decaying but refined world, these masters seemed too casual, too modern. However, they would do even in casual clothes, one in pressed jeans and a starched shirt, another in a T-shirt, denim, boots and a cowboy belt.
They were all easy on the eye…with grim expressions that were practiced either over time or natural for their dominant sensibilities. kari focused on the blonde man first…the one in the pressed jeans and the starched shirt, with facial bones that looked as if they had been sculpt in granite. He had the appearance of the perfect master, the blue cold eyes of a falcon and a presence so commanding that it held the entire room in its grasp. It told stories… a dozen easily flipped through kari’s mind, of when he mastered women, drove them to their knees, and had them breathless and panting for more of his taking power. His voice would rip air, snap like ice against steel.
She knew without being introduced that he was the master of this Guild.
“On your knees.” His voice was no less than kari anticipated, though it did not rip or snap, it simply ordered in simple terms that she could easily obey.
kari found the carpet surprisingly soft, made for a submissive’s tender knees. How appropriate and comforting.
While she knelt in the center of the room, Justin took his seat with his friends, grabbing a beer from the serving slave’s tray. When the tray was empty, she was excused to pull refills from an antique Coca-Cola cooler placed against the far wall.
Though the new slave expected some ceremony, initially the afternoon seemed little more than a social visit of Guild Doms. kari remained positioned in the middle of the semicircle of masters, ignored while the five men conversed. They talked in terms kari understood as she listened from her bowed pose. The other slaves were as paralyzed, all waiting for their next command.
The conversation covered concerns about the Guild’s website, the use of the single tail bullwhip in S&M scenes and the profiles of several new slaves who were not quite ready to be bought or seasoned. Lastly, they focused on pertinent matters that instigated the meeting in the first place.
“I bring her only because she says she wants to stay,” the blonde dominant addressed the issue first.
“Because she wants to stay. When has that ever mattered?” the lanky cowboy Dom asked the pointed question, while he ran one hand through his dusty brown hair.
“She’s slaved for five years… that’s a long time. You know I’m rarely generous with the willful and rebellious properties…this time, however, I make an exception. I think it’s due considering her long term of flawless service to me and Sir Flanagan.”
“What’s her crime?” Justin asked.
“Her contract with me has expired, extended only until I could arrange for another master. The terms were clear and she understood what I expected. Last Friday she left the Fortress without permission—permission she knew I wouldn’t have given her. When I discovered that she was gone, I thought she had permanently disappeared. I was surprised she left, knowing how much she needs the discipline of slavery. But I was even more surprised when she turned up the next day saying she wanted back.”
“Back as your slave?”
“No. That wouldn’t be possible. Back as Guild property.”
“She forfeited that status when she left,” the cowboy Dom chimed right in as if there was no question what the response should be.
“I understand that. However, in the process of throwing her out, she made a sincere plea. I’m rarely moved, but this time I was. kei’s true substance is submissive. I think the momentary insurrection proved that point. She would not live well outside this life.
“You have a bleeding heart, my man. Is this something new we should expect?” The Dom laughed as if the whole discussion were a joke.
“Jack, give me credit. She’s worth the time.”
“So what do we do?” he asked. “Punish her and hope she won’t bolt again. Did she tattle like they all want to?”
“I’m sure she didn’t.”
“But you don’t know?”
“I know her,” was all the man could say, though he said it strong enough to have everyone in the room convinced except the unwavering cowboy.
He shook his head. “Do what you want, I don’t advise it, but we have to trust each other.”
The blonde master turned to the submissive in the corner where she crouched penitently. Her body breathed humility, her quiet astounding—as if she weren’t even there—unworthy of the space she occupied.
“kari, to my side,” Justin ordered his slave.
She scampered quickly, glad not to be the center of this conclave, for they had turned grim. She wondered about her purpose here. Unknown, except as an accompaniment to her master, like the other slaves in the room were to theirs.
“kei, here now!” the blonde Dom barked, his voice reeking with passion, fueled by anger and disappointment, which now bubbled through the surface of his implacable calm.
kei, the rebellious slave, crawled on hands and knees to the same spot before the semicircle of masters that kari had just vacated. She breathed subservience through every pore of her contrite, comely body. Her head remained bowed, her naked body composed, though she seemed certain to shiver with fear underneath her placid manner. Presenting herself to the five masters, she collapsed before them, flat on her belly, arms extended above her head, her feet spread wide apart.
In her posture of subservience, she created a lush picture of robust femininity—with a broad fleshy ass the focal point of the pose.
“She’s yours Jack,” the blonde master turned to his cowboy friend.
A sullen smirk filled the fellow’s face… while the wicked gleam in his brown eyes made the whole room jump with excitement. Pulling himself to his feet, he circled the woman staring down at her prostrate demonstration.
“You know all the moves, don’t you?” he said, kicking her gently with the toe of his boot.
She raised her head, whispering, “Yes, sir.”
“Keep your comments to yourself, slut. You don’t need to be ‘siring’ me. I’m no sir to you.” His toe caught her at the armpit. She flinched for just a second, while the cowboy strolled to the far wall and snagged a riding crop—the kind with a lo
ng shaft and six cutting inches of braided leather. Strolling back, he stopped between her parted legs and pressed the hard end of the crop into her ass. She flinched again… knowing what was coming, as the rest of the room waited breathlessly for the man to strike.
However, he wasn’t that easy or in a hurry. He worked a slave the same way his voice lazily drawled…almost as though he didn’t care whether he began or ended the scene. His outward appearance contradicted his inner demons; although in his eyes, it was possible to see traces of his venomous bite.
He was used to riding crops—even over his single tail whips. The cut was fast and mean; he could rip and tear if he were being exceedingly cruel, or strike lightly as a leaf falling quietly to the ground. He didn’t like this submissive—didn’t like slaves who jumped ship for any reason. His world was black and white, no grey, no in-between, no room for wavering sluts.
kei was here for punishment—this was something he understood.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiipppppppppppppppppppp! The savage cut split the sweltering air into shreds. The slave jumped. The masters flinched. The other slaves in the room recoiled at the sound. Then everyone breathed easier realizing that the slave was still free of marks, her creamy skin, yet untouched. Not a blemish, not even the remnants of bygone punishments appeared to mar the look of her pristine purity. The dreadful sound was nothing but air crackling from the cutting blade.
“Surprised you, didn’t I?” the cowboy smiled with wicked fun as his eyes surveyed the room. “Surprised you, too. Didn’t I?” he poked the prostrate slave on her left buttock. “The sound gets in your bones, gets you all quivery and warm. I’ll bet your innards are just dazzling right now… like someone has just lit a firecracker up your butt.” He moved the aim of his crop to the cleft of her ass, pressed the end down the middle and finally jabbed her hard, right where the puckering rear hole should be.
“Yeeeeah!” she yelped softly, then settled.
“Justin, loan me your slave,” he looked toward kari.
“Do as he asks,” Justin pushed his submissive forward.
“Get the heftiest dildo you can find inside that closet,” the cowboy pointed toward the far wall. “Make sure it’s the kind for asses. You know what I’m talking about.”
“Yes, sir,” kari blinked. Staring into the cowboy’s face, she shuddered head to toe. Ruthless, wicked things were happening inside her as she met the man’s eye and understood the command. Quickly moving toward the chosen cabinet, she plucked the needed item from a dozen others. The fat thing seemed to pulse, begging her to choose it. There was no mistaking the purpose of the pink latex anal probe. It narrowed at the end, widened in the center, and narrowed again to a flat piece that rested outside the rectum.
“Shove it in her ass,” Jack ordered.
“Dry, sir?”
“I really don’t care. But if you’re too chicken to shove it in dry, salivate it first.” The man got meaner as the minutes ticked by, his scowl more loathsome and more thrilling.
Experiencing a bizarre shudder of satisfaction, kari knelt between the slave’s legs to comply with the master’s order. She knew first hand that the staff would not go in without some lubrication—the possibility was even frightening. To ease her task—and kei’s—she twirled the dildo around her lips for several seconds, coating it with spit until it was glistening wet. She would have preferred some soothing cream to ease the entry, but this would have to do since she was offered no other choice. With the wet plug in hand, kari opened the slave’s anal cleft and pointed the narrow end at the woman’s taut rosette. Pressing the dildo firmly at the base, she worked the shaft into the channel, watching anxiously as kei’s rear muscles clenched and then relaxed, then finally allowed the rod to breach the portal. The poor girl squirmed fitfully as her bottom was forced to open wide.
“Yeeeaw!” she voiced another gentle yawp, when kari gave the thing a determined shove and forced the broadest part through the opening muscles. Poor kei went rigid with pain.
kari stroked the slave’s behind, thought soothing things inside her head and hoped that kei would understand that she meant her no harm. Easy, baby, easy… she repeated to herself. With a steady shove, the plug eased its way inside until kei’s muscles finally relaxed so the whole of it could nestle deep.
“Good work, slut,” Jack interrupted as soon as kei’s behind had swallowed the device. He pushed kari off with the side of the riding crop and took his place between the slave’s thighs. “You hold that in, all the way in, bitch. Keep that bumhole tight around it and you’ll do just fine,” he told her, teasingly, as he ran the end of his crop over the plump pink mounds of her ass. He pressed the tip of his tool against the plug’s base, and then with astounding speed, pulled back.
Rippppp!
“Yiiiiach!” kei jerked, muffling her further cry.
Rippppp!
Another cut landed next to the first, leaving two red-hot ribbons of scorched flesh to rise high on the slave’s behind.
He came down harder, repeatedly, until the prostrate submissive writhed in agony, back and forth from hip to hip, rocking on bones, desperately fighting to absorb the shocking sensations that fired through every nerve. This was impossible. The blows were far too ferocious to endure with any kind of slave decorum. Thankfully, none was expected. No one believed she could maintain her submissive poise, or keep her lungs from crying out in despair and pleading. This was penance of the worst kind. Even for a woman who thrived on her masochistic inclinations, this punishment was horrifying. There was no end, with one and then another cut ripping into her ass with force. The cowboy had a certain skill, laying each strike on a place that meant new pain. He laid the cuts on fast, the tempo furious from that scintillating beginning until the moment he stopped.
The whipping over, all was quiet except for kei’s soft and woeful sobs. Her body eased as a sensuous warmth replaced the pain. This would be her only reward. The silence was deafening, no one stirred… even kei was motionless. The slaves in the room waited, holding their breath for a master to make a move. None did. It was the cowboy’s call and he was enjoying the aftermath as the crude thrills rushed through his gritty system. Tall, stoic and immovable, he stared down at the wounded woman, viewing the results.
The skin was broken in several places, though no blood flowed from the damaged pink skin. This red rash wouldn’t fade for days. She’d nurse it with cream to soothe the resulting tightness, and, if she were a fit slave, she’d remember the horror as something pleasant, not something she despised. kei would touch herself remembering, and if given permission, would get off to those fantasies, relishing every moment of this profound castigation.
“Bind her feet,” Jack finally spoke. He moved away, playing with the riding crop as he sauntered to the wall and replaced it on the rack of tools.
Bind her feet.
Was that an order for a slave and if so, which one?
Kneeling on the floor next to Justin Booker, kari looked to her master for an answer.
With just a nod of his head, she moved forward again, while a second slave who’d been bowing at her master’s feet fetched rope from the cabinet of implements. While kari pulled the woman’s legs together, the second slave expertly bound kei’s ankles so that they were firmly tethered, circled six times, and then anchored in the middle.
“And now her hands behind her,” Jack calmly spoke. He had plans. Simple ones. Simple enough to make the discipline stick—so the remembrance of this day would not be so sweet in kei’s mind. The taste of mutiny would be sour on her lips.
With the bondage finished, the gangly cowboy strolled back to kei’s bound legs and reached down, grabbing the rope knot between her feet. Getting a firm handhold on the thick cords, he dragged the woman across the carpet, around the semicircle of masters, and across the bare wood floor to another corner of the room where a thick meat-hook hung from heavy-duty rigging. Securing the steel claw through the ropes at her ankles, he then turned to a crank fixed to the wall and
began to draw the slave into the air. He didn’t stop until her head had lifted off the floor and she was dangling like a side of butchered beef.
He pushed her so she spun, so the rest of the room wouldn’t notice the tears that dampened her eyes, the pained expression on her face, and the blood that was rushing there. Jack toyed with her pubis, which made her roused body spasm as though she were trying to cum. He tapped the dildo lodged in her behind, pushed it in with his fingers pressing the base until he heard kei gasp. Then he back off, grabbed for another crop, and worked her hips and the front of her thighs with soft strokes and a few biting ones as reminders, then her belly and pubis while the punished slave bucked savagely, fighting the bondage, and fighting the blows. Her fear had gone too far, she had no more will left to endure as a well-trained submissive would.
“Might say you reached the end of your rope,” the cowboy laughed. “Ah, I could torture you more, but I think you’ll do just fine on your own.” He replaced the crop, and meandered back to his friends. “That what you wanted?” He looked at the ceremonious blonde master.
A faint smile crossed the man’s lips as he stared Jack down. “I guess I’ve forgotten what a hard ass you can be?”
“Hey,” he shrugged amusedly. “Suppose this brand of sadism keeps me sane.” Plopped down in his chair, he sat back, rested one ankle on the other knee and folded his arms across his chest.
Meanwhile, kei twisted in the corner, strung up and forgotten by the other souls—at least for a time.
Later that same afternoon…
“I’ve never been suspended, sir,” kari confessed as she bit into a piece of sausage pizza. Her mouth languished in the flavors, as the taste worked its way through her body. Something about her afternoon enlivened every physical sense while alarming them at the same time.
“Well, then, I suppose this afternoon inspired you.”
“I know it made me famished,” she smiled.
His Latest Acquisition Page 4