A Gentleman's Property

by Toby Abbott

  “Glad to know you, Sheila,” said Mark, scratching a nipple. The women didn’t say a word, but as the men stepped back, four frightened eyes were riveted to their now fully erect cocks. They had never seen anything like them.

  “Pay attention, Helen and Sheila,” said Sir Roger. “Here are the rules of this game. Reggie and Mark are going to cane your legs, your breasts, your cunts until you ask them politely to fuck you instead. There is no need to wait for each other. It is every woman for herself. If these two gentlemen fail to arouse your lust, there are plenty of others waiting to take over when they tire. I myself will lend a hand if necessary. We have all night. Choose your weapons, gentlemen, take your partners, and begin.”

  As an entertainment, it divided the audience sharply. The Millionaires on the walkway found it both amusing and arousing. The Amazons in the boxes stared through the glass in stunned disbelief, the startled O of their ball-gagged mouths the perfect expression of their feelings. The same dichotomy was apparent among the performers. Reggie and Mark laid on the canes with a will, all the while keeping up a laughing stream of commentary on their tactics and plans. Their partners were not so happy. Helen began to scream for mercy at Reggie’s first blow to her thigh, but Sheila remained stoically silent until her breasts became the target.

  The men soon established a rhythm. Mark would land a solid blow on Sheila, sending the two-woman punch bag swaying away from him. Reggie would wait as Helen’s pleading eyes approached. At the still point, just before she began to recede again, it would be his turn to strike, speeding the departing bundle of pain on its return journey towards Mark.

  The canes were not heavy enough to do much damage in such skilful hands, but Mark and Reggie knew how to awake the maximum of pain by unerringly finding the tenderest folds of skin. Both took their cue from Sir Roger’s master class by using only the tips of their canes, so that their progress up and down Helen and Sheila’s dancing bodies could be traced in livid spots rather than lashes. The pattern created by Reggie around Helen’s virgin cunt was a very creditable effort, considering that it was impressed on a moving target.

  To the surprise of the audience it was the tough but realistic Sheila who surrendered first, leaving the soft and shy Helen to persevere in a lonely resistance to the inevitable. Mark had been experimenting with a series of wide swishes back and forth, intended to catch Sheila’s nipples only. It called for exquisite timing, and the first few attempts had either stuck the sides of her breasts or missed their target altogether. But at last he got it just right. A forehand landed squarely on the swollen left nipple, bending the tender nub flat to the breast as the cane forced its way past. It was enough to break Sheila’s spirit.

  “Please stop, Sir, I surrender,” she called urgently, as she saw the cane rise again.

  “This is not a battlefield,” said Mark, landing a stinging uppercut on her stretched bottom. “You heard Sir Roger. And you should address me as ‘Master’.”

  “Ow!. Please fuck me, Master! Please fuck me!”

  “Well, if you insist.”

  Mark threw down his cane and concentrated on the difficult feat of penetrating this fast-moving double woman. “Any port in a storm” he told himself, quite prepared to accept the first lodgement that offered itself, but Sheila’s cunt was in fact at a perfect height for his purpose. Her position had opened it conveniently, and something unknown had provided all the lubrication a man could wish for. Was it the enforced reminiscences of her last evening dominating Helen, was it her own bondage, or was it perhaps the effect of the cane? It would be interesting and enjoyable, Mark thought, to find out experimentally at a later stage of Sheila’s training. For the present there was more urgent business on hand for a man with a throbbing erection.

  Mark caught Sheila by the hips as she reached the top of her arc and lodged the first inch of his cock in her cunt. As Helen’s weight pulled the duo back towards Reggie, Mark allowed himself to be dragged with it, demonstrating some of the dancing footwork that had made him a fine college boxer. But when Reggie landed his next stinging blow in the crease between Helen’s thigh and mound, Mark braced his feet and refused to give any ground. Helen’s impetus drove Sheila against the unyielding Mark, and another inch of his cock was forced inside her. Reggie quickly adapted to this new twist in the game, and began to speed the rhythm of his strokes. Sheila was soon fully impaled, and Mark’s solid body was added to the compacted mass of flesh already formed by the two women. Warning Reggie to concentrate his blows lower down, Mark reached round Sheila to stroke and tickle Helen’s throbbing nipples.

  Mark had noticed the burning heat of Sheila’s body as soon as full penetration plastered him against it. Glancing down, he was delighted to see her flushed face and breasts, and the eager way in which she was kissing his neck and shoulders. Now she whispered shyly but urgently, “Harder, Master! Please thrust!” Mark withdrew his cock almost completely, and bent his head to kiss the panting Sheila.

  “Are you happy, slave?” he whispered in her ear.

  “Oh yes, Master. Please!”

  Timing his lunge to coincide with Reggie’s next blow, Mark thrust in to the hilt. The cane, torturing Helen’s cunt, redoubled the pleasure of Sheila’s, and she came at once, babbling “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” to Mark and anybody else who might be in earshot. Helen certainly was, and she also felt Sheila’s orgasm rippling along their tightly bound backbones. In despair or jealousy, or a combination of the two, she chose this moment to give in.

  “Please don’t hurt me any more, Master. Fuck me!”

  “Slaves must pay attention,” said Reggie, hurting her again. “Were you not listening when Sir Roger introduced us? ‘My lord’, you should say.”

  “Sorry! Fuck me, my lord! Please!”

  As Mark was still fully erect inside Sheila, Reggie and he were able to play some very enjoyable duets on the tightly strung bodies of the two women. When he first tried to enter Helen’s tight cunt Reggie drove her and Sheila backwards while Mark gradually gave ground, providing too little resistance to promote deep penetration. At the top of the arc, while still fully lodged in Sheila, Mark braced himself on her shoulders and swung himself off his feet, wrapping his legs round the flanks of the women. This added his full weight to the pendulum as Helen’s cunt was forced against the cock of the slowly retreating Reggie. She cried out in shock as it burst in to the hilt, and she felt his wiry pubic hair scatching her clit.

  On the next swing it was Reggie’s turn to hitch a ride on Helen’s shoulders, while Sheila was squashed against Mark. When they had enjoyed enough of that game, the two studs tried to keep the women absolutely still by using simultaneous powerful thrusts that landed with redoubled force. Then they used combined upward thrusts, rising onto the tips of their toes, so that the weight of the women was lifted off their aching wrists and ankles. When Mark and Reggie suddenly dropped onto their heels again, and bent their knees, the women plummeted in pursuit of the receding cocks until their wrists and ankles again took their weight.

  It was one of these thrilling plunges that provoked Sheila’s second orgasm, and that in turn brought on Helen’s first. She was still perhaps under her former mistress’s psychological spell, even in her present fallen state. When she felt convulsive shudders running up and down Sheila’s back, and smelt fresh waves of lust’s perfume rising from her cunt, Helen’s last reserves of pride and modesty crumbled. The stringent bondage gave little scope for physical expression of her crisis, but verbally it was far more strongly marked than Sheila’s. Helen moaned and screamed, invoked various deities, and expressed a most earnest desire that ‘My Lord’ should on no account stop. At the climax she even conflated God and Reggie, but the young master did not appear to be in the least offended.

  The double orgasm of the double woman proved too much for the control of Mark and Reggie. For the benefit of the audience they pulled out and shot th
eir seed copiously on the two bellies. There was generous applause from the walkway, but none at all from the boxes. The hot water had all seeped away by now, and the former Amazons sat in the drain holes, pink and rosy, and terribly exposed, as they watched the shaming of their officers.

  The Helen and Sheila bundle hung motionless in the middle of the hold, emotionally drained and barely conscious. Mingled sweat and semen dripped from its buttocks. As the Millionaires drifted away to their private pleasures, Helen lost control of her bladder, and a stream of piss was added to the puddle on the floor.

  “What shall we do with them, Sir Roger?” asked one of the crew.

  “They are no different from the others now,” the sage replied as he turned to leave. “Box them!”

  Epilogue

  “Revenge must be our watchword, Sisters,” the Baroness told the council of war on Casco Island. It was a sombre meeting, for nobody could think the acquisition of ten slaves, however good their quality, an adequate return for the loss of three officers and thirty Amazons. Only Madame Colet, with a blindfolded and ear-plugged Mary kneeling naked before her eyes as the centrepiece of the table, had anything to celebrate, and her joy was clouded by jealousy and guilt.

  Although she would have denied it vehemently if any of the Sisters had accused her favourite, she was nagged by the suspicion that Mary, misled by penis worship, had been the betrayer of Major Electra and her followers. That was why Mary’s eyes and ears had been taken from her during this important meeting. And fear that she herself might be blamed for the fiasco had prevented Madame from claiming exclusive rights over Mary. If they could not even enjoy the finest of the new slaves - slaves that were all they had to show for the disastrous raid on the ‘Bonaventure’ - the Sisters might make her a scapegoat in addition to the unfortunate Hesione. The former lieutenant, naked and in a chastity belt, was on sentry duty outside the meeting room. Madame had risked her personal safety, and forfeited the privileges she enjoyed as a member of the Millionaires’ Club, solely in the hope of owning Mary, yet still she was forced to share her.

  “It is our duty to rescue our brave Amazons,” the Baroness continued. “They are at this moment doubtless defying the threats and tortures of their ruthless captors. We must act quickly to spare them further pain and temptation. For the present, then, our efforts should be directed to recruiting new Amazons rather than to the acquisition of slaves. We must have enough troops to mount a rescue operation without dangerously weakening the defences of Casco.”

  “This insult must obviously be revenged, gentlemen,” Sir Roger told the Millionaires.

  The extraordinary general meeting of the Club was being held on a small Japanese island belonging to the Morimoto Corporation, while the ‘Bonaventure’ cruised offshore. Hooded former Amazons jacked up onto their tiptoes by dildo stands, calves quivering, were placed at regular intervals around the walls of the conference room, one behind the chair of each man present.. Most of the members were privately inclined to congratulate themselves on having obtained more than thirty fresh women at the price of ten stale ones, but out of consideration for the feelings of Mr Morimoto and Signor Tangelli they suppressed their smiles. Aki was distraught at having lost Mary Bowdler after possessing her only once, and that in the strained conditions of a public performance. Tangelli would not have minded his wife being tortured by dykes if only he had been able to witness her humiliation.

  “The delightful Miss Felicity Conway,” Sir Roger explained, “has given us such a full description of this Casco Island and its defences, that an immediate assault, as advocated by our host, might seem the best plan. But, surely, gentlemen, we cannot suppose that even these lesbians are unable to anticipate such an obvious response. What we need is a stratagem, or a trap.”

  “But we must not let these foul creatures get away with such insolence even for a moment,” said the enraged Mr Morimoto. “Just to think of them pawing our slaves is unbearable. And that deceitful Madame Colet most of all. She must pay for this.”

  “Don’t worry, Aki, she will pay - up to the hilt,” said Sir Roger. “This is one of those occasions when the humbling of women becomes more than a pleasure. It becomes a moral duty.”

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