Executive Enslavement

by Bruce McLachlan

  “There, all done for the night,” he stated. Talon patted her cheek and began to walk away.

  Samantha gave a despairing purl that stopped him in his tracks. Fearing that she had angered him, she winced as he turned slowly around. Instead of a scowl, he wore a covert grin.

  “So you still want to play, is that it, pony?”

  Samantha answered his question with another despairing whimper.

  “Okay then, just for a little bit, and only because you were so good today,” he said generously.

  Master Talon nestled down between her legs and ferreted in the case. There was a soft slurp noise then she felt him paying a jelly dildo into her rear. Samantha arched against the cross straps and thigh bonds as the cool lubricant-covered head opened her sphincter. The shock and slight pain of its entry gave way to ecstasy as it stormed into her tracts, riding into her until the head was pressing to her limits.

  Samantha’s howl of answer to the trespass filled the stall and shed all base for piercing treble when the wand returned to lounge against her clit. Talon drew back on the soft shaft and revealed the sedate ribs along its length. The device popped free of her anus then was crammed back in on a steady pitiless drive. The second entry was all the sweeter because her rear was more accommodating and her body was now charged with rhapsody from the quavering lash of the wand on her pussy.

  Words almost emerged onto her lips but she swallowed them and remained dedicated to her animal status. Besides, if she spoke, he might stop to punish her for breaking this taboo. Samantha had seen Daemon manage taciturnity with no impediment, so she should at least be able to keep quiet with a gag in her mouth.

  The dildo rode back into her and was churned around with some small circles of movement before it was deserted. The length started to slip out on its own weight then the wand fled as well.

  A previously unseen strap on the main strut was taken up and brought between her legs. The leather strip ended in a pincer clamp, and keeping it poised in one hand, Talon used his fingers to part the folds of her pussy and expose his target.

  Samantha quaked and fought her bonds with panic as she could predict what was coming. Her fight flew to rigid attention as the padded jaws locked to her sensitive and roused nugget.

  Talon moved the small adjuster ring toward the ends and tightened the excruciating pinch. Her holler jumped out and as she clenched, she pushed the dildo out into the belt that in turn caused the clamp to pull even more unbearably.

  “Now let’s see how you like that for awhile,” he commented.

  Sitting back he picked up a small crop and sat cross-legged before her. With capricious sadism, he watched her struggle and snort as he applied the odd swipe to her inner thighs or a skimming slap to her nipples. Every impact made her jolt and caused the dildo to press into the belt and escalate her woe. Only by relaxing her rear and leaning into the belt could she gather the escaped length back into her body and find meagre relief.

  “You vicious scoundrel,” came a delicious female voice.

  Samantha’s eyes stopped being clenched shut and flashed open. They jumped aside to see Lady Morgana in the gateway. She held a crop and the reins to a very tired looking Tobin.

  “Just having some fun with the new pony before leaving her for the night,” absently replied Talon. “How was your day?”

  “Fun. Yourself?” she answered as she looked over Samantha’s shuddering and angst-riddled physique.

  “Decent enough. But are you sure you didn’t lie to me?” asked Talon.

  “Pardon?”

  “Are you sure she’s a novice,” repeated Talon with a raised eyebrow and dubious look.

  “Impressed are you?” beamed Lady Morgana.

  “I suppose,” he said with a smile then absently removed the clamp.

  Samantha gave a wild throe of answer as the pincers released her and a sudden burst of feeling coursed through the trapped and stretched nodule. The sudden flexing of her body caused the dildo to thunder out and drop onto the straw. The speedy flight accentuated her responses and added sensuous glee. Quivering against her bondage, she almost found herself soliciting a return to the peaks of contrary predicament.

  “Are you finished for the day, then?” asked Morgana.

  “Just about. Shall we head off?”

  “Let me just install Tobin and I’ll be right with you,” she replied.

  Talon gathered up the shed articles and put them back in the leather case. Grabbing the weapons and the items of Samantha’s pony outfit that had been removed he went and stood by the gate.

  “Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Lady Erin sends greetings,” he said.

  “She’s here?”

  “With Fussbudjit and Lynn.”

  “It still amazes me how she pulled that off,” said Morgana with a respectful sigh.

  “She’s an expert, that’s for certain. Crafty, too.”

  Morgana pulled Tobin down onto his knees and used a chain and two padlocks to connect him to the central strut of Samantha’s bondage chair.

  “You two have fun tonight,” she said and with Master Talon at her side she left the chamber, pulled the gate shut, and threw the bolt.

  Tobin scampered forward and lifted his muzzle into Samantha’s pussy. Samantha gave a snort of pleasure and settled into her position with joyous relief.

  Working with devotion and skill, Tobin used his snout to play Samantha’s sex along the smooth leather surfaces. She imagined how her scent must be for him as it washed through the snout, and how cruelly aroused he was by this deed.

  Tobin was selfless in his attention and brought Samantha to a stern series of climaxes. She almost had to beg him to stop as he paused for a moment then continued again, taking her to scintillating peaks of pleasure several times.

  When she was panting and almost reduced to a faint he rubbed his snout against her legs then nestled between her spread feet. Ruled by the most potent contentment and feeling of safety and happiness, Samantha relaxed into her bonds and slid swiftly into slumber.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Morgana had never seen Tom and Thumper in such a position. The two women were clearly not amused that she had handed them to Talon for restraint and use. Nevertheless, as much as they loathed their predicament they would still do it, and love it, because it was a humiliation that they suffered for Morgana’s gratification.

  Both of them had been fastened into latex straitjackets but the arms had not been folded around them as would usually be expected. Tom was suspended horizontally and face up by the large D ring anchors on the custom built garment. The rings held chains that reached up to the ceiling and held her aloft in a firm rubber cradle. Her bare legs were splayed exceptionally wide and elevated to a forty-five degree angle. The dense suspension cuffs stretched the limbs so tight that they could barely move. Her naked toes wiggled in the air as the latex rippled with her struggles. Two straps ran around her inner thighs to leave her accessible while still serving to keep the jacket in place.

  Thumper had been turned face down and with the use of clips and straps, she had been attached to Tom’s underside. Her legs had been parted to an equal and opposite degree and attached via chain to distant rings in the floor. Hanging back to back at waist height, their arms reached back and around their partner before being secured with over-straps and more clips. Their mitten entrapped hands strained against the dense material and their hooded heads were also buckled together. Two mirrored eyepieces hid their wide-eyed, appalled stares, and their mouths were visibly stretched against the impermeable folds by a significant gag.

  Lady Morgana was sat to one side in a large comfortable chair. She was dressed in a vinyl leotard that had a zipped front with a laced section criss-crossing over it. Buckled suspenders were part of the garment and emerged from shoulder and hip to grab the hem of PVC stockings and matching opera gloves. One leg was cast over the arm of the seat to allow the tongue of a naked slave girl access to the covert zipper at
her crotch.

  The girl had caught Morgana’s eye earlier in the day. She was very petite and exceptionally sweet of form and temperament. The moment Morgana had seen her, she had planned to station Tobin with Samantha and ensure she acquired the girl’s oral services for the evening. Later, she would take the slave back to her bed and ensure she was left with a few welts, aching limbs, and a strained tongue for her next day of servitude at the ranch.

  The mansion was a short distance from the ranch. It could not be seen through the trees and could only be accessed via a side road that branched off before the route to the ranch. The owner was a devoted friend and revelled in allowing his home and land to be populated by hordes of eager participants.

  His particular vice was voyeurism, and many covert cameras covered every location and corridor, allowing him to record the various scenes and sessions for his own private collection. The idea that at all times someone was sat in a secured vault of a room, avidly watching their every move never ceased to bring quivers of iniquitous relish to Morgana’s physique.

  “Now, who wants it first?” asked Master Talon.

  The naked form of the dominant male strode from the shadows then grabbed his own raging length. He stood between their collective legs and trailed his cock along their lips, teasing them with imminent penetration but refusing to deliver.

  Talon extended a hand and clicked his fingers. A maid emerged from the dark and reverently handed him a small plastic shaft with a tiny bushel of thin rubber strings spilling from one end. It looked like a fly swatter, except that its target was nothing so insignificant.

  Talon stepped back and pointed down with his extended hand. The maid swiftly obeyed the command and settled down on her knees before him. Taking hold of his bare thighs she sank her mouth deep onto his shaft and began a dilatory fellatio. The subtle noises from her maw testified to a tongue that was working far swifter and harder than the slow steady drives of her head.

  “Let’s warm up these anxious openings first, shall we?” he announced.

  Morgana stiffened as the girl’s tongue dove deep into her at the sound of the first bright slap of the weapon to Tom’s exposed pussy. Morgana dragged one gloved hand along the arm of the chair and reached forward to clutch the girl’s long red curls and rotate her face. She gently ground the slave into her loins so that the tongue could voyage even deeper.

  Tom gave a suppressed jolt then started to struggle as Talon leniently flogged her most vulnerable zone.

  “Oh, but we don’t want to be unfair, do we?” he mused and began to flick underhanded up into Thumper.

  Morgana watched with glee as the muscles of their legs jerked and their toes clawed impotently at the air. The sleeves shuddered with refractions of light as the two of them continued to fight to get free. They knew they were in for a ravishing and could do nothing to stop it. However, they also knew that their owner was watching and savouring the show. This alone would give them the compensation to find at least some shred of enjoyment in their bondage. Morgana chose to ignore that fact and pictured flowing tears beneath the hoods as each sobbed and wept for release, praying that their exclusive female sanctity not be violated. Their prayers for the dark goddess Morgana would go unanswered—their deity was orchestrating and delighting in their degradation.

  Talon started to alternate at random between the two women, depriving them of any hope of prediction. Sometimes they would receive a trio of swipes, then a pause, and another before a deluge and some more uneven gaps between the delicate but unbearable strokes.

  Talon removed the maid from his manhood and held her via a fist in the back of her hair. He pulled away and craned her head back to cause her mouth to drop open. He circled the tip of his glistening cock around her lips. Her tongue emerged and sought to continue to tickle him. He teased her for a short time then pulled back a little further to deprive her of access. Her tongue continued to wiggle in the air and her eyes remained closed as she yearned to devour him again.

  “Now, we have a little quandary here, don’t we? Two slaves, but only one hot, stiff cock to cram into one of them. Hmmm. But we do have this eager little oral slut right here. Eager and warmed up, with a most skilled tongue that I’m sure you little dykes would just loooove to feel on you. But who gets who? That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

  The two captives became maenads of frantic motion to try to draw the attention and favour of Talon, each desperately soliciting the tongue rather than the penis. Talon’s face was a personification of amusement and delight.

  The room rang with the rattle of chains and the dark creak of rubber as it contained the frenzied throes of a panicked and desperate woman. They had both resigned themselves to their lot and had prepared themselves to relish their subjugation, but now one of them had a chance to escape heterosexual use, and they each wanted it to be them.

  “What’s that?” he asked, lifting a hand to cup an ear and aim it toward their entombed faces. The hollers of Tom and Thumper became vaguely discernible even over their stern gags.

  “Is that Tom I hear? Is Tom speaking to me and asking for this sexy, salacious tongue? Or is it Thumper?”

  The signals through the rubber grew to levels that were even more acute than before.

  “Well, I guess that settles it, then,” he pronounced.

  Talon towed the girl even further away. She dropped her arms back to support her arched torso and accepted Talon’s unspoken command. Craning herself into a spectacular bow she launched her tongue up into Thumper.

  The bound woman immediately flashed to a rigid stance. Every toe stretched out as her abused loins felt the warm wet slide of the long and agile organ rolling into her. At the same time, Talon grabbed Tom’s hips, leaned in, and drove into her body. She was sodden with lust from the minor lambasting and just from the notion of acquiring the maid’s oral attention. The day of pony play had left them both sexually charged and the bondage and recent events had grabbed their libidos and raised them to intense levels.

  Tom’s cry could have been interpreted as agony and revulsion, but it was not. Despite all her wish to stay devoted to her singular sexual preference, the feel of a tumescent length diving into her had engineered exceptional bliss.

  Morgana could guess that Tom was imagining her true owner between her legs, driving into her with one of her larger strap-ons. In her mind, Talon had to have vanished and the concocted reality had replaced him to feed on the sensation with added zeal. The change in her motions showed that her fantasy was in full effect. Her belly quivered and groans seeped through her gag as Talon continued to thrust slowly into her. His hands rolled up and down her bare legs, assessing the firm muscles and silken skin of the woman as his cock plundered her most seldom reached regions.

  Talon leant a hand onto her belly and pressed down to feel the covert motion of his throbbing manhood as it travelled against Tom’s tracts. He pulled out and tickled her clit with his head, to swirl against her before sliding back in.

  Morgana could resist no longer and was brought to climax. Her legs stretched out and the pointed toes of her court shoes wiggled in the air. Her head lolled aside and her tongue slipped out of an agape maw. Only when she could take no more did she push the girl back.

  After a moment of recovery, she used her heel to poke at the slave, and with these goading shoves, she formed her like clay, turning her into a ball upon which she might rest her feet. Lifting her zipper over her heated crotch, Morgana crossed her thighs and basked in the warm afterglow of orgasm while returning her attention to the ongoing use of her other slaves.

  Talon’s arms grabbed Tom’s thighs with ferocity as he endured the rising climax. His face was a mask of strain, and beads of sweat hung on his brow like condensation. His teeth were bared and with a final series of drives his head jerked back. A bestial roar of passion thundered from his throat as his arms shot out and formed his fingers into animal claws that rapidly began to travel up and down Tom’s spasmodic legs.r />
  Morgana purred to herself as she watched his muscles ripple from the ferocity of orgasm. He was a stunning vision and Morgana started to entertain the notion of replacing Tom in that accursed pose. She projected the feel of having her legs spread wide and her body served up to his desire. More and more of late, she was succumbing to the temptation of trying a trial period as Talon’s possession.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Samantha was stirred from her deep and consuming sleep by the sudden opening of the gate. Her heavy eyelids fought to lift up and were momentarily confused when she saw only darkness. She had thought that she would be left in her stall until dawn.

  Glancing out of the corners of her eyes, she could see a male and female form. She assumed that Talon and Morgana had returned for a midnight snack of debauchery.

  A small overhead bulb was flicked on and dazzled the two slumbering ponies. Once they were able to squint and assess the new arrivals, they were startled to find out that they were not their owners. Rather it was a stranger, and someone that Samantha had only seen momentarily.

  The woman was a dark skinned vision of chiselled beauty. Tall and delicate of form, she had a cascade of jet locks. The tightly woven tentacles rained down around her features and hung along her back until they touched her waist. She wore leather thigh boots with a tall heel and a slight platform. White riding trousers followed her shapely legs and a tight white shirt clutched her body to reveal an entrancing cleavage. A close-fitting leather vest lay over it and was open down the front. The zipper of the riding trousers clearly reached all the way around from waistband to waistband and a studded belt encircled her trim body.

  Beside her was the muscular man that had thundered passed Samantha in a gig just after her arrival. He wore fitted leather trousers and knee-high boots. His robust torso was clad in a black shirt with a leather tie that matched his short gloves.