Cute Girls

Tales From Subspace

OPENING

I started with a phone call. A pay phone call to a number found in the back of a new-wave newspaper that advertised Alternative Lifestyles. [Alternative Lifestyles. I had never felt like an alternative anything, but maybe I get ahead of myself.] It was not easy to make the call. My fingers could barely find the numbers on the keypad in the dim light. My breath came short and fast. Sweat slickened my palms and I was wet. Moist heat between my legs, throbbing with my pulse. Pounding emotions I thought long dead, forcing the very center of my being to vibrant flaming life. My skin heated up slowly in the cool air and my eyes blazed with this ill-concealed inner fire. Dark passions filling my body with need. I wanted pure physical satiation again. Hands, lips, cock, on me and in me, once again. It had been six long years of self-imposed isolation. I was ready to reach out but did not want true commitment. The thought of the traditional world of dating turning my stomach. I needed what I had been fantasizing about for so many years. Taking a deep breath, I dialed the phone.

10 Years ago…

Nobody ever just falls into the life. It is a long torturous process that for some of us covers many years. It is an enigmatic tour through the dark recesses of your own mind. A journey not for the timid or shy. I have always believed that these cryptic images were always inside me. I just suppressed or hid them. Like most of us. It did start about ten years ago. I was an innocent. Weren’t we all once?

I was back from Karate class. Bag slung over my shoulder, sweaty, hot, hair plastered to my forehead. I walked into the small house that I shared with my boyfriend Rob. He was waiting for me. My riding crop tapping restlessly against his knee. I dropped my things and put my hands behind my neck. Falling gracefully to my knees, careful to keep them apart. Eyes away from his face and trained to his belt. My face was burning with embarrassment.

“Come here.” He cooed. I crawled the distance necessary to place myself at his feet. The thick cream wool carpeting was harsh on my knees. I looked straight ahead at the dark tweed pants that I had bought him for his birthday. Cut full in the crotch to accentuate how gifted he was there. It was tempting to raise my eyes but I didn”t want to see the slow smile of triumph my breaking of the rules would bring over his handsome face. I tried to empty my mind of anticipation. [What would he want of me this time?] Any number of menial humiliating tasks awaited me. Things I would have to do on my knees without complaint. He addressed me again. His voice had changed, becoming huskier, more breathless.

“Open my pants.” I did it, undoing the zipper with my teeth. “Make me hard with your lips only.” I freed him and took him into my mouth. Smelling musky salt. A unique aroma that was all his own. My hands snaked around his thighs to his buttocks. I kneaded them softly, as I balanced my own movements. Swallowing him down until air no longer moved into my lungs. He wasn’t enormous, by any means, but easily on the high side of normal length. It was that Rob dripped sex. Every look, glance, touch was an assessment of someone else’s erotic potential, mostly mine. Suddenly, he backed up. His hands gently forcing my mouth away. “Go into the bedroom, remove your clothes, lie face down on the bed. Wait for me.” I went as quickly as I could. My hands trembling on my clothes, until finally I was nude. I lay face down on the waterbed. Feeling the cool percale sheets rubbing against my breasts, hardening the tips. Making me shiver as I spread myself like a starfish. Arms reaching, legs spread. My face lying to the right. Eyes closed, as always when there was any chance of seeing him while we played. It wasn’t that we never had vanilla sex. At one point, that was all we had. Until we got engaged. Suddenly that diamond ring became a band of iron. Every orifice I owned was his to play with. Yet so slowly did he introduce these delicacies that I hardly noticed. One day he was holding me down to make love to me. The next, it seemed, he was breaking a riding crop on my virgin buttocks and taking me that way. No one ever knew except an uncle who brushed against me inadvertently and felt the garters that Rob made me wear without underwear. My uncle started to make a joke of it, but my furious blush made him back away quickly in confusion. The family could never know. I insisted upon that. They still don’t and if they do. Well, they don’t say anything. Rob came in. I could hear him. He secured my wrists, but left my ankles loose, so I could bend my knees. Just how he liked me, easily accessible. “Open your eyes!” He commanded and I obeyed. I looked into his dark eyes, noting again the intelligence there. Not truly handsome, his features were arresting. His hair cut almost military short. His smile endearingly crooked. When we were in High School together, I thought he was sweet. “Did you enjoy your class?” He asked carefully.

“Yes, Rob.” His hands moved to my spine. His long supple fingers wandering to the cleft between my buttocks, which tightened involuntarily.

“I bought something new today.” He walked away from me then. I heard the water in the bathroom running and knew that he was washing whatever it was that he had bought before using it on me. He kept the new toy behind his back and opened the drawer for the lube. He sat between my legs, Indian style, and ordered. “Bend your knees for me.” I complied, feeling my buttocks separating to give him access. Rob really knew Greek. It had to be one of his favorite things to do. Not once during our two-year affair did he ever damage me back there. I never bled, not even the first time he took me that way. A thorough douching softening me, weakening my resolve, my fear.

I felt his fingers, wet with lube, opening me. That was one of the few lasting gifts that Rob gave me. The gift of orgasm that originates somewhere other than my clitoris. I tried to relax as I felt that first finger, become two, then three. Rob taking his time, never in a hurry when he had his favorite orifice before him. I felt four fingers slide in and involuntarily clenched against him. I had never had four fingers in my ass at one time.

“Relax, Anne. You’re resisting me and I don’t much like it.” I felt him work the ring of my anus slowly until I relaxed working lube in much deeper than he had ever done before. “Breath slowly and evenly. You’re going to love this.” I felt the tip of the `toy’ pushing between two of his fingers. It felt slippery slick with K-Y, and I pushed out hard. Feeling his warm human flesh replaced with firm unyielding rubber. The pressure built to a pleasurable plateau and went beyond into aching unrelenting strain for my body to accept this impossibly wide dildo. I groaned, trying to close my lips against the sound. “Come on, push out. It’s not much bigger than I am around.” He kept pushing, forcing my anus to stretch around the thing painfully. I felt tears in my eyes. It seemed to go in forever. Past any point of comfort, causing a cramping in my stomach much worse than anything menstrual. I bore down to expel it, get it out of me and felt Rob push it home. The base slightly smaller so it wouldn’t slip out. He sighed with satisfaction. Nestling the base carefully between my butt cheeks and laying my legs flat with a jerk. I lay immobile, impaled by pain. He stroked my back and I felt the electric tingle of his touch along my entire body, arousing me in spite of the burning dilation behind me.

“Hurt?” I nodded, not trusting my voice. “I’m going to take my crop to your sweet ass. Then pull that toy from you and give you something warm to replace it with.” A quick shot of fear went through me. Fear of more pain. Knowing it would hurt but Rob would be so hard and so good afterwards. I wanted him to whip me. It was the least that I could do for his pleasure and, as I was discovering, my own, as well. He stood up from the bed, making waves in the water. Rob hit me then so hard across the buttocks that all air left my lungs in a surprised whoosh. I turned my face into the pillow and took it into my teeth, gagging myself with it so he couldn’t hear my pain.

This time was different for me. The phallus, the feeling. The total surrender of my body to the punishment that I was allowing him to inflict on me. He was hitting me harder than he had ever done before and it seemed like for longer too. I lost all self-control. I went totally beyond thought, trying to free my hands, but unable too. Yet, never using my voice to tell him to stop, it was too much.

I felt the pressure, building in my arms and legs. The fire on my buttocks, spreading its warmth all over my body. I gasped with the extent of his power over me in that one enlightening second and surrendered to it. Trying to pull air into starving lungs by raising my head. I tautened, bucking upwards and pulling on the bonds. Sensation sweeping over me and through me. Churning against the phallus impaling me and pushing me over the edge of the abyss. I came against the bed, beyond thinking. A low animal growl tearing from my throat as my body wrenched into heaven. Rob suddenly forcing his fingers into my sex as the last of my orgasm clenched around his hand. His soft reassurances breaking me open further.

I came while being beaten. I was annihilated on a spiritual level. How could I have ever orgasm while he was beating me harder than he had ever done in the past? Something had clicked into place inside my head. Some deeply buried connection between Pleasure/Pain was forged inside my head and I inexplicably started to weep. Deep quiet sobs as I realized what had been done to me with my complete cooperation. I was changed. Eternally and profoundly different from all the Vanilla people that I knew. I was weeping because I knew that the possibility existed that I could never go back to the way I had been.

My arms were released and he pulled me up off the bed. Leaning me against the dresser that had the big mirror behind it. I looked up and saw my red tear-stained face reflecting back at me. When Rob leaned down to slide the phallus out of me, it resisted removal. He stroked my buns and told me to push it from deep within myself. I was bearing down against it with determined steady effort until I felt it being drawn out of me. Leaving me empty until Rob’s cock took its place roughly. His hands holding my hips steady against his driving jabs into my canal. Fucking me hard and fast. I was so open that it didn’t even feel unduly indelicate to me. He was stroking my wet clit at the juncture of my sore thighs. My backside burning from the beating he had just given me. His breath harsh, hot and animal-like against the back of my neck. Suddenly, he drove into me hard. Pinching my clit sharply so I came as well, to a lesser degree than before but still an orgasm.

Rob collapsed over my back, his breathing harsh. Cock still jerking slightly in reaction to our passion. His weight against me almost collapsing me to the top of the dresser. Gradually he came to himself and slipped his cock from my ass with a swift pull. Patting me gently and wiping the tears from my face. I closed my eyes and didn’t move, hearing the sound of his condom hitting the garbage can.

He took my arm and led me into the master bathroom. I was weak with exhaustion. My muscles pulling with hurt and exertion. I let him lead me into the bathroom and sit me on the toilet while he started the shower. He pulled me in. Washing my hair with rough hands, nice. Using ivory soap gently between my legs, slipping one soapy finger into my anus to get the lube out. He said something. “What?” I asked, and then gasped as he pinched one of the marks on my butt. I rested my arms on the tile.

“I didn’t tell you to speak, precious.” Oh, God, he wasn’t finished yet! His hands soaped my breast, tormenting the nipples. Taking care with every part of my body, leaving me squeaky clean. He stepped from the shower, letting me rinse thoroughly as he dried. When he took me from the shower he led me to the kitchen table and made me sit on the edge. “Don’t fuck with me, you know how I want you.” His voice was cold. My hands balled into fists as I lay back. He pulled my hips to the edge as he brought a ladder-back kitchen chair up between my spread legs to sit on. Close but not too close. I put my ankles into the notches on the back of chair, hating every minute of this position. Coldly reminiscent of a gynecologists office. The once a year torture that all women go through.

Rob opens the outer labia, heedless of my humiliation and dryness. His fingernails scraping against the delicate tissue roughly, yet deliberately. He spread my knees wider and played with me. Tracing the parts of me gently. Clitoris, urethra, vagina, anus. Slowly methodical. Tiny delicious pressure against the tender parts of me.

“There are parts of you that I have never explored, Anne.” I answered his comment respectfully. “I like watching you orgasm, but only when I tell you too.” Suddenly his hands had a meaning. I felt a tear well up in my eye. I was in trouble. He put his face against me, starting to eat me with expert flicks of his tongue against my flesh. He kissed my crotch tenderly until the juices started to flow again and I hungered for release. Rob stood up and slid his fingers into the willing tunnel. “You came without my permission. You ever come without my express permission again, and I will keep you like this for a month. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” I whispered absolutely miserable. He pulled away suddenly when my breathing deepened and the involuntarily clenching of my sex told him that I was really enjoying his attentions.

“Take your legs down. Go to the bedroom and wait for me on your side.” I did it. He came in and tied my arms to the headboard so I couldn’t take care of my hungry orifice myself. He lay down beside me and went to sleep.

Pretty prudent of him. I was tempted to relieve myself and would have done it if he hadn’t tied me. I’d done it before when I wasn’t secured this way. Taking some satisfaction in the fact that I was getting off in the same bed as a man that thought he controlled that kind of thing.

This was different because I was in such torment. Pain from my buttocks throbbing with my pulse cause a chain reaction to move straight through my sex. I needed more attention. Craved it and along with the craving I had questions running through my head.

How had Rob known that I would like this kind of sex? How had he known that I wouldn’t balk at the whips, chains and phalluses that he used on me? How did he decide to introduce me to this delicacy on the menu of sexuality?

It came to me suddenly. He didn’t know. He had studied me, worked at my resistance. Figuring out how he could get what he wanted from me. My eyes caught sight of my riding crop on the floor. He had broken it while beating me. It’s expensive leatherhead hanging from the shaft.

I almost came just from the sight of it, then closed my eyes and shivered in fear. This is part of me now. The link had been forged between pleasure and pain. They were inexorably connected inside my head. I would never be the same again.

That was only one night of many. Routine and ritual Role-playing and rape scenes. Anything that Rob wanted I gave to him without question. Nothing he asked for repulsed or sickened me. At least, not that I ever let him see. Some of the things that he liked baffled me. Like his fascination with controlling my bodily functions, but since he liked it I let him do it. Sex was good with him. A head-trip as well as body. I found myself trying to please him. I was punished enough without deliberately courting disaster.

All good things must come to an ended however. Rob and I really ended on my 23rd birthday. He asked me what I wanted and I told him. I wanted one night on top. He was beautifully stunned by my request but he agreed. It was almost as though he simply could not believe that such a statement had come from me. Since he had mapped out my psyche. I could have no desire for such a thing. It was unthinkable. Surprise. I don’t know why he agreed, he was obviously uncomfortable with the whole idea, but he did. It was a real revelation for me. I liked it. I liked pushing limits. I liked having to pay attention to what I was doing, not just being done too.

It wasn’t a real good scene. Rob was uneasy and couldn’t really surrender to it. More importantly, Rob couldn’t take it. He balked. Suddenly, I was the one that had more self-control. Higher limits. I thought less of him for that. From that moment on I absolutely coveted punishment. Rebellion at every turn. I never even let him see me cry after that night. The frustration was driving him insane because I don’t think he could figure out what had happened. He just knew that every time he tried to knuckle me under, I stiffened my spine and took it. My seed of contempt had become a big old tree. His lack of discipline had broken the bond between us, forever.

He broke up with me, 3 or 4 months later. I wasn’t really sorry. He lacked mettle, you know? I just figured that a chapter in my life had closed and moved on. I’d just go back to the way I was before Rob and be okay.

I am okay but I missed something. The problem was that I couldn’t find it in the white-bread Republican world that surrounded me. I went out with a 32 year old virgin and married an abusive SOB that couldn’t figure out why I fought back when he attempted to do real violence to me. I rapidly developed backbone. Not something that I needed before then. It has, however, stood me in good stead.

P.D- post-divorce. I discovered that I was not the only pervert on the planet. They actually wrote books for people like me to read. Exit to Eden by Anne Rambling, The Story of O, The Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure. Pat Caliphia, Laura Antoniou. The whole gamut of sexual diversity available at the local bookstore for feverish reading at my home. Intoxicating.

It was while reading these books that I felt something that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Desire. Considering for the first time that this was why I was not satisfied with dating Vanilla men. I was not like that anymore. I was too hot for them. Too diverse. Too willing to explore the dark side of my sexuality.

My husband liked missionary style, period. I just assumed that the older you got. The more boring sex became and since I did not want to be boring. I would be alone forever. A martyr before the throne of business, neutered sexless.

The only problem was that I didn’t feel neutered I felt… horny. I didn’t want a 32-year-old virgin or a wife-beater. I wanted someone like Rob, or better yet. Someone like me. A focus for all this repressed sexual energy. I was only 27 years old.

Luck was with me. I found Eric. A 32-year-old artist. We car-pooled to college together. We were both older than the kids who went during the day and gravitated together. He was intelligent and funny. Eric was good to me.

One weekend Eric’s mom went away and he asked me to dinner. I got over there and we started to laugh. Having a riot and drinking wine, discussing the movies available for viewing. When, as though it was meant to be, we ended up on the floor. Kissing. We were pulling pieces of our clothes off, but when I reached for his zipper, he stopped my hand.

“I have a problem.” I felt my heart sink. I figured he was impotent, or HIV, something catastrophic. I schooled my features to neutrality and waited. “I have a real hard time reaching orgasm. Sometimes I can’t at all.” He looked embarrassed. “I want you to know that before we go any further.”

“Do you get hard?” He nodded, and I responded by reaching back down for his zipper. Let’s see how much of a problem it really is. Part of me thinking that a hard man that has a difficult time coming could be a lot of fun. I gave it a try.

“Oh my God.”

Vikki was starting at my lap with a look of amazement.

To her credit she quickly got a grip.

“Party tricks aside, what about the information you’re passing.”

“I’m passing? I think the photographs will show that it wasn’t me leaving the hotel nor me going into the Post Office.”

“Don’t fuck with me!”

Vikki touched my arm gently to prevent any further outbursts.

“Let me tell you a little story about your boyfriend here. The recruits here are trained in squads of eight and legend has it that at least one recruit in every squad will be failed. Now with that in mind it stands to reason that each squad will quickly identify their own weak link and they will be sacrificed. On the face of it they are all one of the squad and everyone helps everyone else but in reality, consciously or otherwise, the weakest are marked out.

Your boyfriend’s squad comprised seven men and one woman. A very exceptional woman. Her physical and mental scores were high even by the standards that we set but she was a woman and so it stood to reason that she must be the weak link. He and she were paired together for a night manoeuver. They had to rendezvous on a Norwegian mountain top but she went lame. She spent the whole night radioing for assistance but he had the only radio tuned to her scrambled frequency. He got back to base and claimed that he had heard nothing. She nearly lost a finger to frostbite and was dropped from the programme.”

All the guilt that I had harboured over the years welled up in me. I could not deny her thinly veiled accusation but the remainder of my squad had made it perfectly clear that if it was not her then it was going to be me.

Vikki looked at me.

“Is this true?”

“Of course not.”

She looked into my eyes and she knew. Her expression of concern transformed into one of loathing. She held very strong opinions on women’ rights and she had always assumed me to be a staunch supporter of equal opportunities.

Katrina watched the interplay with amusement

“Does the name Dawkins ring any bells?”

I could immediately see her as if it were yesterday. The dark eyes seemingly larger because of her close cropped dark hair and her all too feminine body the appeal of which could not be concealed by the practical army fatigues. As the image came to mind so it slowly metamorphosed until, with a frightening realization, I appreciated that she and the first woman from the hotel were one and the same.

Katrina struck whilst the iron was hot. She turned her attention back to Vikki.

“It’s no coincidence that the worlds’ armies are run by men and we have continual conflict. If women got the promotions they deserved and moved into the upper echelons then things would be different. I have made contact with some like minded women and, with the judicious exchange of a little information, we are giving each other a leg up.”

At that moment I saw that I had lost Vikki. Katrina was ringing all the right bells to appeal to her fundamentally feminist nature.

“But why him?”

“We need a go between and a male camouflages the feminine nature of our scheme.”

“But what about…the other things?”

“After what he did to Dawkins he deserves to pay a little penance and what better way for him to serve it.”

Vikki went very quiet and I could almost hear her mind at work. I touched her hand.

“Vikki?”

She half turned away from me and addressed herself directly to Katrina.

“I want to see more.”

Katrina smiled a victor’s smile.

“When Dawkins was on the mountain she had a code name and an agreed distress message. She had to radio “Syracuse is waiting”.”

I heard the words and the world around me seemed to suddenly turn to monochrome. When colour bled back in, I heard laughter slowly growing louder and I found myself standing naked with my hand around my erect cock.

“He’ll do anything I want?”

“Anything. Do you want me to leave you alone together?”

“No. Stay, just in case.”

I tried to talk sense into her but my mouth would not form the words and I stood stupidly keeping my cock rigid with slow strokes of my fingers. My frustration must have been evident from the expression on my face but it elicited no sympathy from Vikki. She looked at me with condescending amusement before turning to Katrina once more.

“You know his most annoying habit? He was quite good with his tongue but he was always in a hurry to get it over with; always thinking with his cock.”

I had no idea that she thought of me as perfunctory. I prided myself on my technique and I knew that I could bring her to the boil. I assumed that she thought of it as I did, foreplay, an “amuse de bouche” before the main course. She always came so violently with my cock inside her that I assumed that that was what she wanted.

“Do you mind?”

“No, of course not, make yourself comfortable.”

Vikki had stood, with her fingers at the fastening of her skirt, and now, with Katrina’s affirmation, she took it off and laid it over the back of the sofa.

I found it almost impossible to believe that they could be so comfortable with one another after such a brief acquaintance. It was a facility that men just simply do not share with women and in this case their bond was almost subconscious. They were two alpha females used to getting what they wanted and recognizing, instinctively, that they could be of value to one another.

My eyes were inevitably drawn to the familiar bulge in her sheer panties. If her pubis could be summed up in a word it would be intimidating. Vikki kept her body well toned but her pubic mound was extraordinarily well developed, it looked as if it had done body building all of its own. She underwent regular electrolysis to keep it perfectly smooth but this only served to exaggerate its firm plumpness.

She was fully aware of its attraction and, when on the beach or around the pool, she always wore bikini’s which were cut in such a way as to draw attention. Men could not help but look and even other women appeared envious. It was as though she exuded womanhood.

She waited until I cast my eyes downwards, as she knew I inevitably would, and then she slowly peeled her panties down her legs but, as she did so, I noticed that she turned very slightly towards Katrina. It might have been interpreted as some form of subconscious challenge but Katrina seemed unmoved. She took in Vikki’s semi nakedness at a glance and only the faintest raising of an eyebrow betrayed the fact that she might have been impressed with the view.

She sat back down on the sofa, her legs spread with a casual nonchalance usually reserved for someone secure in a long term relationship.

“Come and eat me.”

I had worshipped at that particular shrine so many times but, no matter how often, I still hated to be on my knees. When we were lying in bed together there was some form of equality but with her sitting and me kneeling there was a clear inference and Vikki had emphasized it in the expressive way that she had said those four simple words.

Vikki’s disloyalty made me even more determined to defy her but her words echoed in my head becoming a mantra against which I was powerless. Her smile broadened as she watched me take a first stumbling step and once that step was taken there was no going back. I went down to my knees and leant forward.

I could feel the heat radiating from her sex, which had the roundness of a baked apple, and, as I made one final attempt to resist, it split open as it yielded to the pressure of her excitement.

I was lost. I sealed my mouth over her pudenda and pushed my tongue into the warm pulp where the taste was not cinnamon but the familiar tartness of her arousal. I wormed further in, easing her deep lying labia further apart, and then I began to suck gently.

She immediately put her hand on my head but this was not the recognizable touch of loving encouragement. Instead, she twined her fingers in my hair and pulled me more tightly to her signaling me to get my tongue deeper still.

For the next few minutes it felt like a conflict. I had no choice but to try and please her but she was using her well trained muscles to squeeze me unmercifully as she worked towards her own satisfaction. Under normal circumstances she would be unashamedly noisy but, probably due to Katrina’s presence, she was showing a degree of restraint. The only indication I had was an occasional, involuntary, guttural groan.

It took nearly fifteen minutes before she closed her legs about my head and gave in to a wrenching orgasm. Her thighs, hot and slick with perspiration, held me in place for a long time afterwards and prevented me from following their laughter punctuated conversation. When, finally, she allowed herself to relax I extricated my aching tongue but she quickly clamped me once again.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re not finished yet.”

I remained still, notwithstanding my instincts, and yet again the depth of my conditioning alarmed me. I was not just responding to specific commands I was obeying in anticipation. I was a thinking automaton.

Glasses of wine had materialized and Vikki took a long sip from her chilled glass before speaking once more.

“Start again. Concentrate on my clit.”

Her sex was relaxed and slightly open revealing the narrow lips which were still flushed pink with excitement. In my mind I fell upon her with an uncharacteristic violence, hurting her even as I brought her pleasure, but the thought was reined in even as it was formed and I took up my place with the docility of a domestic pet.

My natural instinct would have been to use my fingers to make her clitoris available to my tongue but, without knowing why, I understood that I was to use only my mouth. I started by licking gently at her labia which were still greasy with her juice and, over the next few minutes, they seemed to swell as her sex opened further and her scent grew richer.

“This is so incredible. How many men have you done this to?”

“I wouldn’t like to say.”

“How long does it last?”

“For as long as I want it to.”

“Can you undo it?”

“If I want to.”

“So have you?….Released anyone?”

Katrina did not reply but simply laughed.

“You haven’t have you? They’re all still out there. You could just pick up the phone…”

The sentence remained uncompleted but the implication was not lost on me.

“Can they not find someone else to reverse the conditioning? There must be other experts.”

All the while this conversation went on I laboured with my tongue but Vikki acted as though I was not even there. She took occasional sips from her glass as she gave her attention to Katrina.

“One of them tried. He found a hypno-therapist in the States. Do you know what I did to him?”

She said this with a hint of malicious glee in her voice and I felt Vikki tense with excitement as she waited to hear more.

“He had the gall to phone me when he returned to gloat about his triumph. It only took him a few seconds to realize what a mistake he had made. The poor fool thought that there was only one trigger phrase but how was he to know?

Once I took him under I made sure he was addicted to me or, more particularly to the taste and smell of me. He can never achieve orgasm unless he has his face buried firmly between my legs.”

“You can do that?”

“Men’s cocks are ridiculously easy to control.”

As she said it I was aware of both of them looking down at me to where my erection still raged undiminished and unfulfilled.

“So, do you let him?…Have an orgasm?”

“I told him what I had done to him and he lasted about a week; then he turned up here begging my forgiveness. I let him go down on me one last time but I didn’t let him come.”

“And now?”

“I sent him away but I made him forget who I am. He’s out there now with an uncontrollable and desperate urge to bring me pleasure but no way of knowing where to find me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wound up in an asylum.”

As I listened to her I grew more and more appalled but I also felt that she had overplayed her hand. Vikki has a fundamentally humanitarian spirit and I was sure that she would be revolted by Katrina’s story but even before it came to a close she pulled at my hair drawing me on to her clitoris after which it was only a matter of seconds before she reached a second shattering climax.

She held me there whilst her sex pulsed its last few drops of moisture and then she let me go. I tried to slink away unnoticed but she brought me up short.

“Do you want a turn?”

“Why not. Come here.”

My tongue was sore and swollen, my face was sore from repeated wetting and my knees were sore from the hardwood floor on which I had been kneeling but still I did as she asked. I feared that her command over me was somehow growing insidiously stronger.

She did not remove her skirt. She lifted herself slightly and slipped off her panties before making herself comfortable with her legs apart. She had seemed cool and detached the whole time that I had been serving Vikki but now that I knelt once more with my face inches from her sex I knew it had been a charade.

There was a dark, wet, line drawn through the centre of her auburn curls and a pearl of moisture was trailing its way down her perineum. Her fragrance seeped around me like an invisible mist and it was obvious that she had been awaiting this moment.

I swallowed, my mouth still coated with Vikki’s taste, and tried to back away but now she did not even have to put it into words. My treacherous mind was filling in the blanks and I knew what I had to do.

I leaned in and eased my tongue into the sodden thicket. I felt the rasp of wiry hairs as I tried to lick her open fighting my way through to her thick labia which themselves were glistening with moisture.

With Vikki I could feel the shape of her sex, defined by its firmness, but Katrina’s was a complete contrast. Her labia seemed to squirm beneath my tongue almost playfully, at one moment beckoning me like a matadors cape only to slip away at the last. She, herself, remained unmoving as I turned my tongue slightly in an effort to split her.

In the end she grew impatient and she pressed with a finger on either side of her sex to show me the way. With her labia parted I worked my tongue inwards and upwards to be greeted with a fresh surge of moisture which momentarily threatened to choke me. I managed to keep control and homed in on her clitoris which, notwithstanding her excitement, was still trapped in its fleshy cave.

I used the tip of my tongue to coax it but it did not entirely free itself. It grew firmer by degrees and peeped out more boldly but the area that was open to my tongue seemed particularly sensitive. It did not take long for her to reach an initial climax but this was very much a precursor.

She began to pant, as though in labour, and I kept my tongue at work but as her breathing returned to normal her sex grew hotter and wetter and I knew she had more to give.

As I continued to lick in slow circles she stayed poised on the plateau that I had taken her to but then she began a final ascent. She moved forward bringing herself closer to the edge of the chair opening her legs more widely as she did so. The signal was not lost on me and I began to lick more firmly taking in the whole area of her clitoris with broad sweeps of my tongue.

Over the next two or three minutes she started to soar higher and higher her muscles tensing so much that they must have threatened to cramp. I suspected that, in part, the tension was due to her trying not to cry out, to show Vikki that she was in control, but as she finally surrendered to her bodies’ need she closed her eyes and came with a series of muted grunts, each one punctuated by a tiny ejaculation of moisture.

When it was over I sat back on my haunches completely spent. In the not too distant past I had completed triathlons but my body had never ached as it did now.

“How does he compare?”

Katrina took a deep breath and composed herself before replying.

“To the others? Not bad, a little more endurance would be useful, but I’m working on that. Sometimes they can be a little over enthusiastic in their efforts to please but he is going to be my masterwork. He is going to learn ever nuance of a women’s body. He will not need telling, he will read all the signals. He will know when to go fast, when to go slow, when to go deep. When I’ve finished with him he will be able to use his mouth for hours to bring women the ultimate pleasure.”

I heard all this, as I was intended to, with rising anger but I was rooted to the spot and, as I tried to swear my mouth would not cooperate. Even as my rage burned some rational part of my mind took in the bizarreness of the scene from a standpoint that seemed disembodied. Here was I, a prime specimen of masculinity, pinned by the power of another’s mind whilst they discussed me like a laboratory experiment.

I wanted to shout at them, to tell them to look at themselves, at least to get them to acknowledge the abnormal situation. Vikki was sitting, still naked form the waist down, but her legs crossed pose just made her seem sexier than ever. Katrina, for her part, sat with her skirt rucked up casually running her fingers through her matted pubic curls as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

My train of thought caused me to lose the thread of the conversation and I forced myself to pay attention. I was desperate for any clues which might help me out of my predicament.

“How far can you take him?”

“What do you mean?”

Vikki paused slightly before replying.

“Well, when we were together, there were certain things he would never do.”

In the next few seconds something almost telepathic passed between them and then Katrina smiled.

“Oh, he’ll do anything…anything you want.”

I knew. I knew exactly what she wanted and I almost drew blood as I dug my nails into the palms of my hands. I hoped that self inflicted pain would somehow bring my body back under control but Vikki was already playfully beckoning me with her finger. I could feel the tendons standing out on my neck as I tried to hold myself back but I was moving towards her as in a dream.

As I drew nearer she unfolded her legs languorously and then lifted them so that her heels were resting on the seat of the sofa. She looked as if she was preparing to give birth but it was not her sex that she was offering up.

“You know what I want…”

She brought her hands down and gently prised open the taut hemispheres of her arse to reveal the perfect starfish that lay within.

I knew that other guys were prepared to debase themselves in this way but it was something I just could not do…or so I thought. She had planted a seed of a command and it was already taking root. Even as my stomach threatened to turn over I was moving closer and I could not look away from the puckered grey-pink opening. The last few inches seemed like a chasm but the gap inexorably closed sealing my fate.

She gasped at the first tentative touch of my tongue whilst I absorbed the taste of slightly stale sweat and the leakings of her sex. I licked along the clearly defined furrow, avoiding the thing itself but she knew, as I did, that I was only delaying the inevitable.

She began to groan uncaringly and, as her excitement mounted, so did my compulsion to break down the final barrier. I closed my eyes and licked more boldly taking in the petite depression with each long sweep of my tongue

For the next minute or two I prayed that this would be enough and, as her breathing grew more ragged, it seemed that my prayers may have been answered but then, with a single word, my world became darkness.

“Inside…”

She whispered the word hoarsely, expectantly, and notwithstanding my total revulsion I was already pointing my tongue.

I held a breath and then applied myself. As I scanned the surface of her skin with my tongue I was surprised by the firm texture of the muscle opening which was not unlike an erect nipple but it was with relief that I found it totally unyielding; there was no way I could do as she wanted.

“Do it!”

There was almost a hint of desperation in her tone but nevertheless it was a terse order and it had the desired effect. I pushed more firmly and was shocked to feel the opening relax for an instant and then pinch at the tip of my tongue. I flinched away momentarily but quickly tried again. In the next few seconds I was put in mind of a boa constrictor swallowing prey. As I pushed with my tongue she opened up to greet me and once past the tight portal it was drawn in and slid easily the rest of the way.

“Oh God!”

She could not believe that I could actually be brought to do it and now I could feel her internal muscles pulsating with pleasure. We stayed frozen for a few seconds, me with my tongue rooted deep inside, and she reveling in her new found power.

The taste was not as bad I feared. It was slightly musty, like stale bread, but my senses were being slowly overwhelmed by her reeking sex.

“Deeper!”

I tried. I sealed my mouth to her and stretched my tongue until it felt as though it would be pulled out by the root but she was heedless of my suffering. She had her fingers on her clitoris and, as she rubbed ever more quickly, a steady trickle of moisture leaked from her and found its way inexorably into my straining mouth.

Fortunately, the novelty of this new excitement quickly brought her to the edge but, as she started to come, my tongue was squeezed more persistently than an empty toothpaste tube. She did not release me until she was completely spent by which time, perversely, my tongue felt twice its normal size.

“Was that as good as it looked?”

“It was incredible.”

“Then perhaps I had better try it ….”

*Chapter 5*

* *The journey back passed almost in silence. I wanted to have it out with her but I could not trust myself not to break her neck, assuming that that particular urge had not already been suppressed. Vikki spoke just once and I took her question as rhetorical.

“How could you have done that to that poor girl?”

The mention of Dawkins reawaked my fears about the depth of my conditioning. I had been trained to remember faces and yet her identity had been veiled from me until Katrina had chosen to reveal it. I was also fearful of the fact that they had made me act with only indirect commands. Just how far could they take me?

I dropped Vikki at her flat and drove off without a goodbye. I already had the outline of a plan in mind and I wanted to get started.

At home, the first thing I did was to turn off the phone and then I began to pack. I was going to book a ticket to France first thing in the morning and, once there I would do my research. I knew that Katrina had told the story of the guy who had tried to undo his conditioning as a warning but the sort of person I had in mind would not be found in the yellow pages.

I went to bed early and fell off to sleep quickly but after a couple of hours I awoke. I felt an urge and my first instinct was to head for the bathroom but once there I could not use the toilet. Only as I caught sight of Katrina’s confounded contraption sitting on the shelf did I realize what the urge really was.

I closed the door and went back to bed determined to ignore it but after another hour sleep would still not come. I felt fidgety, agitated and felt unbearably hot. These feelings were purely physical and I could get the better of them but the trouble was that I was going to need all my faculties over the next day or two and insomnia was not going to help.

In the end I did the only rational thing I could. I went back to the bathroom, filled the device, and for the next hour I put my aching tongue back to work.

I went back to bed and slept until six a.m. After a quick shower and shave I phoned for a taxi and by seven I was queuing for a ticket. I had just a few minutes to spare which gave me time for the one phone call I needed to make. I dialed impatiently and then realized my mistake.

“Syracuse is waiting.”

I could not believe what a fool I had been. I tried to cut the connection but the phone seemed glued to my ear and my hands would not cooperate.

“I hope you didn’t get too far. I need you to do a personal favour for my cousin. Here is what I want you to do…”

It seemed perfectly natural to me to kill the next four hours sitting on the concourse. I had some breakfast and then bought myself a newspaper and a paperback. At exactly eleven a.m. I went outside and found myself a taxi

The journey was long and expensive and took us out into open countryside. We finally pulled up at an impressive pair of security gates through which I could see a tastefully appointed Georgian house off in the distance. The guard at the gate would not let the taxi go any further and so I unloaded my luggage and dumped it unceremoniously at the gate house before proceeding on foot.

A, broad, well kept gravel road led the quarter mile to the house itself which, judging from the number of windows, probably ran to eight bedrooms or more. Once at the front door I tugged on the old fashioned bell pull and was mildly disappointed when I heard a very modern bell sounding somewhere in the depths of the house.

After a second pull the door had still not been answered and I decided to try the back of the house. The ground fell away to the rear and in the near distance there was a paddock in which someone on horseback was practicing over a very professional set of jumps. The rider caught sight of me and raised an arm to acknowledge my presence; two minutes later the horse was cantering towards me.

The rider, fully kitted out in red hunting jacket, jodhpurs and riding boots, pulled up a few yards short.

“Follow me to the stables.”

The voice was female and the tone peremptory and I walked after her retreating form as she trotted across to a small, modern, stable block that stood apart from the house.

I arrived just as she was dismounting and she paused for an instant longer than necessary as though she could feel my gaze fixed on her impressive seat. She unfastened her riding helmet and set it down before shaking out an impressive mane of dark curls. This had to be Katrina’s cousin. The family resemblance was there. She had the same dark eyes and full mouth but the face that I was now looking into was familiar in an altogether different way.

She must have been in her forties but she still was still the same arresting beauty that my father had ogled on a Saturday evening as he tuned in to his favourite detective show. She smiled as she saw the look of recognition in my eyes.

“Katrina wasn’t lying. You’re quite a specimen”

As she spoke she picked up a crisp towel, took a seat on a straw bail, and patted her glowing face.

“Come and help me with these boots.

I knelt down and she lifted up her leg so that I could get a purchase on the expensive leather.

“Why am I here?”

“Were you not told not to speak unless spoken to?”

The answer was that I had not been but my mind was already interpreting her question as a desire and I was struck silent.

As I tugged off the boots I thought about running but I immediately felt a wave of guilt, a feeling that I was letting her down. With her boots removed she stood up and unfastened her jodhpurs.

“Help me with these.”

It was no easy task. The material was skin tight and she had been perspiring. I had to work them down her legs by degrees whilst trying to ignore the fact that she was not wearing panties.

“You know what they say about women on horseback, what a turn on it is? Well they are absolutely right. I’ve already come once but now you’re available…”

She sat back down on the bale with her legs brazenly spread and I was left to ponder the exchanges that had brought us to this point. Had Katrina simply picked up the phone and told her cousin that she could provide a man who would do anything she asked? Surely, her cousin would have considered it a joke? But here she was waiting expectantly as though it were her natural birthright.

For a fleeting second I thought about standing up and forcing myself on her but I knew, full well, exactly what was expected of me. I leant in towards her and the whole atmosphere was equine; the smell of fresh straw, leather and saddle soap, and the fact that her sex was demarked by a narrow mane of dark hair.

That she was aroused could not be in doubt. Her inner thighs were hot and flushed and her labia looked tired but at the first touch of my tongue they began to sleepily unfurl as they found their second wind.

“I like that…”

Her will was my command and I carried on licking along her prominent lips pausing occasionally to draw them gently into my mouth. The taste was almost rank, a mixture of her essence, sweat and leather, but as she became more turned on so it grew fresher but that made my task no less unpalatable.

Once or twice I tried to venture upwards but she was not having it and then I felt a sharp sting on my lower back. She had picked up her previously discarded riding crop and now she was using it to playfully urge me on.

“I’ll soon have you schooled. Let me feel your tongue inside.”

I pushed through her outer folds to a beyond that was hot, wet and somehow ill defined. Over the years she had been linked with many men, actors and otherwise, and I wondered how many of them she had had on their knees where I was now.

She was slapping me with the crop at regular intervals but every now and again she would administer a sharper snap. She sensed my growing anger but she seemed to be reveling in it.

“What a better place the world would be if all men could be trained like horses.”

Finally, her carnal needs overcame her amusement and she drew me up on to her clitoris. Instinctively, following the unwanted urge to bring her pleasure, I wanted to use my fingers but these women seemed to share a common bond. They wanted me to use my mouth alone with all the degree of submission that the act portended.

She came quickly jerking herself into my face as though she was still in the saddle and then the moment passed and she simply kicked me away.

She got up from the bale and stripped out of the remainder of her clothes strewing them nonchalantly onto the floor and then, reading my thoughts, she spoke.

“One of the girls from the village will be up shortly. She’ll groom the horse and tidy everything up. I let her ride if I am away. Follow me.”

She walked with the poise of a woman happy with her body and, even at forty, it was a body to be proud of. At the end of the block was a shower stall and she stepped in without bothering to close the door.

For a couple of minutes she seemed content to simply stand under the cascading jets but then she set to washing her hair a process that took a further quarter of an hour. I simply stood, wreathed in steam, and watched.

“Come and sponge me down.”

She handed me a large natural sponge and a bottle of shower gel and over the next few minutes my clothes became soaked as I tended to her but I hardly noticed as she outlined her plans for me.

“In six weeks from now I am taking my theatre company to Beijing. We will be there for seven days performing Shakespeare and Ibsen. You will be coming along, ostensibly in the capacity of my personal security advisor. In reality, Katrina wants you to meet someone. She says you will know exactly what to do.”

This was the last thing I had expected to hear.. I had harboured hopes that Katrina would consider her revenge complete before very much longer but this suggested that she had some sinister long term plans for me. My mind raced. If Katrina thought that I could slip into China unnoticed than she was doing their security services a grave injustice. My military background itself might be a sufficient prohibition but I was willing to bet that they would have a special dossier on me. At best they would refuse to issue a visa. At worst they would let me in but then find a pretext for detaining me.

As I digested the implications she stepped out of the shower and touched her wet hand to my crotch where I was sporting a vigorous erection. The problem was that I had not even been aware of it. I hated her for what she was doing to me but some part of my mind had decided that she would be flattered by my obvious excitement.

She stepped away from me and toweled herself down before donning a short, white, silk robe and a pair of comfortable mules.

“Come with me. It’s time for you to start paying back what Katrina owes me for this.”

She led me the short distance across the courtyard to the back door of the house.

“Take those wet clothes off before you come in. Leave them at the door.”

I did as she asked and followed her in but immediately I did so I had to make a hasty effort to cover myself. There was a woman, small, uniformed, mopping the stone tiled floor.

“Get a move on. Don’t worry about Dahlia.”

I found it worrying that the maid was far less put out than I was. It seemed that the sight of a naked man padding through the house was nothing out of the ordinary. I continued to follow but she suddenly pulled up short.

“Dahlia, is she up?”

“Yes ma’am. She’s just finished in the shower.”

I was led right through the house and then up a wide staircase.

“Enjoying the view?”

She was sashaying her way up in front of me and I had been caught taking an instinctively furtive peek.

We arrived at a sumptuously appointed bedroom with a pair of tall windows which gave a spectacular view over the countryside to the rear of the house but I was given no time to appreciate it.

“Is this him?”

I turned at the sound of the voice and I could not disguise my surprise. Up until that moment I had completely forgotten about her daughter. The beautiful “wild child” had made herself the darling of the tabloid press and now, seeing her in the flesh, the resemblance to her mother in her heyday was remarkable.

The newspapers usually caught her arriving at events or leaving nightclubs the worse for wear but none of the pictures did her true justice. She was a little taller than her mother and slightly larger busted but it was her eyes that held my attention. They were wide, dark blue, bespeaking innocence, but as she held my gaze there was a hint of mischievousness, a suggestion of a worldly knowledge beyond her years.

“Yes, this is him.”

“Does he know?”

“No, but he won’t complain.”

The younger woman gave an involuntary squeal of excitement but then gathered herself and spoke again.

“I want to make a start. How does it work?”

“He will do whatever he is told to do and he will not speak unless you want him to.”

At that moment the only thought in my mind was that most men in the country would be willing to go down on this young beauty and now I was going to be forced to do it and no one would ever believe me.

She was undressed to the same degree as her mother. She, too, was wearing a short robe that left nothing to the imagination and with a brazen lack of modesty she undid the loosely tied belt and allowed the silky material to fall from her body.

At different times the paparazzi had caught her going topless on beaches around the world and I had ogled the photo’s as much as the next man but her breasts were magnificent. They were solid weighty globes with dark nipples that were almost perfect circles. Nature had given her what other women would spend a fortune to achieve.

She was definitely not a beanpole. She shared her mother’s classic curves and I noted that, uncharacteristically for a fashionable young woman, she maintained a lush growth of pubic hair.

I refused to catch her eye, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing I was suitably impressed, but I could not control my body’s natural response and for the first time in days, it seemed, I felt myself coming to a natural erection.

“Go and stand by the bed.”

The voice of authority came to her as naturally as it did to her mother and as I turned to do as I was told I saw that she was proffering a gift wrapped box to her daughter.

“Happy eighteenth my darling.”

Behind me now there was another squeal and the sound of impatient unwrapping.

“Oh my God! It has a choice.”

“They simply click on but this one is recommended for beginners.”

I desperately wanted to turn around and see what was going on as they dissolved into peals of laughter but, once again, I was a captive, pinned in place simply because I knew it was wanted of me.

I felt her mother’s warm hand on my shoulder and then her mouth whispering at my ear.

“It’s hard to know what to get the girl who has everything but there was one wish I could fulfill. Her father left me because he found his occasional fondness for other men was more than just an impulse. We both found that hard to believe. How could a man married to one of the most desirable women in the country find greater pleasure with someone of the same sex? What pleasure is there in it? Well now we can find out for ourselves.”

At that moment I felt a knot of fearful anger and I did turn my head. Her daughter was standing, laughing, with a web of straps around her hips and thighs and a pink rubber phallus jutting out obscenely from her crotch. In truth, it was short and slim, probably no thicker than my middle finger, but the whole idea repulsed me.

“Bend over the bed. Your arse is mine.”

I literally snorted with effort as I tried to rebel but her mothers hand at the back of my neck was insistent and irresistible. She pushed me down until my forehead was touching the counterpane and I had never been so conscious of my own vulnerability. I felt myself breaking into a sweat as I waited for the inevitable but then I was startled by the sudden loudness of an aerosol. My buttocks were being sprayed with a cooling liquid which was to act as a lubricant.

Her fingers were slimmer than her mothers as she tentatively took hold of my hips and then, despite her renewed laughter, she seemed at a loss. The phallus was prodding at my ball sac and she needed her mothers helping hand to position it properly. It seemed, then, that the greater obscenity was not what they had in mind for me but the very fact that they were mother and daughter.

“Now?”

“Yes, push gently.”

My body resisted simply because it could not relax. She pushed once or twice sliding almost comically away from her target but then her mother took charge again holding it steady.

“Pull yourself onto him.”

It occurred to me, at that moment, that she had done it before, that she had already found the answer to her own question and this was more about empowerment, a means of demonstrating to her daughter the weakness of men.

She held my hips more positively and then, with a grunt of effort, she broke through.

The pain was not as great as I feared, I had, after all, been subjected to some very stringent medical examinations, but I had never had anything so deep and the discomfort was excruciating.

“How does it feel?”

By way of reply she shifted her hips moving the thing around inside me.

“Quite nice against my clit.”

She slowly withdrew and then pushed back in again as her mother stroked the back of my head.

“You can be a little rougher than that. He’s a big boy. He can take it.”

For the next couple of minutes she worked the thing in and out breaking now and again only to giggle. Fortunately, notwithstanding her mother’s exhortation, she was careful but the feeling of violation almost made me sick.

“You know what? This doesn’t do it for me.”

With that she withdrew completely but it felt as if she had left an open wound. I lay there, humiliated, still unable to master my own muscles.

“Why not try the double ended one?”

Her mothers heartless words made me retch and I barely managed to keep my stomach under control. I could take no more but the choice was not mine to make.

Behind me, out of sight, I heard the harness being adjusted accompanied by more mocking laughter before the spiteful imp spoke again.

“I think I’d like to see his face.”

“Good idea”

She took hold of my hair none too gently and pulled me upright.

“Turn around and sit on the end of the bed.”

I looked over her shoulder but the imp had her back to me as she concentrated on the final adjustments and then, as I sat down, she was lost to sight behind her mother.

“Lie back.”

I lowered myself, balanced half on and half off, and she immediately bounded onto the bed beside me. She arranged herself so that she was kneeling upright by my head with her knees together.

“Put your head in my lap and let me have your ankles.”

I moved backwards, resting my head as I had been told to, and there followed a few seconds of futile resistance before I bucked my legs upwards. She grabbed my ankles with the skill of a circus acrobat and then held my legs apart.

I lay there staring stupidly through the vee formed by my legs and then jerked convulsively.

“Stay still!”

I could not help myself. She was walking towards me looking faintly ridiculous but the menace she now presented was gut wrenching. She had slotted a new device through the opening in the harness. One end of it was buried inside her, accounting for her awkward gait, but the other protruded a good eight inches from her groin. It was a reasonable facsimile of a real cock, complete with veins and glans, and it was already glistening with lubricant.

I desperately wanted to appeal to her, to convince her that what she was proposing was a punishable assault, but I remained mute.

“Are you ready for this?”

Whilst her face was a gloating smirk I tried to compose my features, to strike fear into her, but she was confident now that I was completely under control. She playfully teased the tip of the thing across my buttocks before calmly centering it.

I could feel sweat breaking out all over my body and the onset of an uncontrollable tremor but her mother simply tightened her grip on my ankles and pulled my legs a little further back making my own centre of gravity work against me.

As before, my mind was telling me to co-operate, to give her what she wanted, but some deep-seated instinct was causing my muscles to tense. For the next few seconds she nudged painfully to no effect.

“Use your weight. Push from the hips.”

Heeding her mother’s words her face was set with renewed determination. She took hold of the thing in her slender fingers and then leant into me. The pain grew and grew as we fought one another but there could only be one outcome. After a few seconds my muscles relaxed for an instant as I girded myself for another effort but she sensed the change. With a heartfelt grunt she gave a relentless shove and she was through.

For a heartbeat it was almost a relief, allowing my muscles to give up the fight, but then it felt as though I had been cleaved in two. She went with her own momentum and rammed home the whole eight inches.

The three of us remained frozen, they almost in disbelief, and me painfully impaled, my eyes fixed on her breasts which were heaving with excitement.

She slowly regained her composure and then she began to withdraw but the thing was so tightly lodged that she actually started to pull the shorter end out of herself. These seemed to her liking and for a moment or two she rocked herself backwards and forward riding the static rod.

“Oh fuck! This is more like it.”

Her every movement served to work the thing deep inside me and to compound my misery but worse was to come. She took hold of the shaft and held it as she pulled backwards and this time it did start to move but it felt as though my innards were being sucked out with it. out with it.

The respite was temporary. Having withdrawn almost completely she plunged again driving it right back where it had come from and then she found a rhythm. She was like a porn actress as she worked the thing in and out of me ever more vigourously and this time she was going to make damn sure that she reached a climax.

I tried to switch off, to disassociate myself from the wretchedness that threatened to swamp me but then, without warning, her mother slowly opened her legs. I sank, as my support was removed, until I was lying with my head between her thighs

I knew what was to come but could do nothing about it. In a single movement she raised herself, moved forward and then came to rest on my face.

Her daughter’s pleasure had obviously transmitted itself. Her dank pubis was like a laden sponge and, as she settled herself, squeezed moisture seeped into my mouth. She made no attempt to ride my face. Her daughter’s athletic exertions provided all the movement and stimulus she needed.

“Do it harder, really fuck him.”

It was a struggle to breathe which seemed ironic because it felt as if air was being pumped into me. The thing was moving easily now but, as she gathered pace, she was driving it deeper. The initial pain had eased to be replaced by a sensation of stomach cramps and an ache that was transmitted all along my spine.

My vision was obscured by her mothers toned buttocks but I managed to open my eyes every now and again when she worked her clitoris over my nose and chin. I was veiled by her white robe which allowed a translucent light but, in my mind, it was the fogged light of a steam room. I was sweating profusely and every breath I took seemed humid and deprived of oxygen.

The imp reached a climax first. Her groans of pleasure came to me as stifled echoes as she rammed herself home one last time and held herself in place. Her mother, not to be outdone, began to work her hips grinding herself over my whole face until, with a final bursting of the dam, she slicked my face with moisture.

Once again we remained frozen in place, they drawing deep lungs full of revitalizing air, leaving me to fight for every molecule whilst still pressed beneath her now relaxed buttocks.

I was on the point of passing out when I felt the thing slide, almost reluctantly, from inside me and then her mother lifted herself allowing me to draw a gasping, life-giving breath.

She remained poised just above me with her well used sex an angry red within the mess of her pubic hair and then she hopped off the bed altogether.

“Let’s swap.”

*Chapter 6*

* *I collected my luggage from the gatehouse and less than four hours later I was in France. Common sense told me to go to a hospital and get myself checked out but I somehow knew that the damage would not be lasting; the wound to my pride would take longer to heal.

It was imperative for me to get as far away as quickly as possible and I could always seek medical assistance in France if needed be.

That first night, in a nondescript hotel, was bad. I deliberately sabotaged the phone but I soon became hot and restless. Sleep would not come and I found myself flicking my tongue reflexively. It did not seem to matter that I had left Katrina’s infernal contraption many miles away.

The next morning I found an internet café and started to work but I felt dog tired and I did not count the day as productive. I dropped by a pharmacy on the way back to the hotel and pleaded neuralgia. He gave me some pain killers and, more importantly, something to help me sleep. It worked to a degree, I was slightly less agitated and I was able to doze for minutes at a time. When dawn broke I felt a little better but the urge to get to a phone was growing greater by the hour.

I knew I had to work fast; I could not hold out for very much longer. It was mid morning when I finally turned up the details I wanted on the computer. I felt a rush of excitement when I found a local address for Dr. Hachimi Khalid.

His home turned out to be one of the better properties in the Algerian quarter but I had to wait until the evening for him to come home. I came up behind him as he opened the front door and he did not look pleased having recognized me after a gap of nearly three years.

“I no longer have any involvement with the military.”

“I need your help.”

Khalid had been working with NATO when I first knew him. His line of work was not dissimilar to Katrina’s role at home and I had met him at a three day seminar in Marseilles. The subject was the legitimacy of torture in the fight against terrorism and Khalid had spoken in favour of psychological methods including hypnotism. I had found his lecture fascinating particularly in light of my own experiences at that time.

It transpired that Khalid had fallen out with his military paymasters over what he saw as increasing persecution of the Muslim community at large and I was able to work with that. I told him about my conditioning and suggested that, were he able to help me, it would be a spanner in the works of the military machine.

It took a supreme effort of will to allow him to administer the necessary drugs but I took heart when, almost immediately, he was able to overcome the urge that I felt to make a phone call. Over the course of the next few days I submitted to him and allowed him to re-map my mind.

I offered him money but he refused to take it. He seemed happy that, in some small way, he had got one over on the authorities.

On the last afternoon I went back to my hotel and packed. Just before I left I dialed Katrina’s number.

“I’m coming for you.”

I hired a car at the airport and drove towards Katrina’s cottage contemplating revenge.

If she had any sense she would have gone into hiding so I was a little surprised to find her at home. She opened the front door and, without a word, ushered me inside. The reason for her apparent calm was immediately obvious. Seated in the living room were two military policemen, one wearing sergeant’s stripes.

“We would like you to accompany us sir. There are some questions that we would like to put to you.”

I sneered at Katrina.

“This won’t save you. I’ll be back.”

The presence of the policemen was an inconvenience but it had little effect. I had intended to go to the military authorities to tell them what I knew and this move simply brought my plans forward. I was more confident of being believed now that I could call on Khalid’s medical testimony to corroborate my story.

They remained very polite and simply asked me to follow them in my own car. The drive took about twenty minutes as we headed east and I wondered why the area was familiar to me. It was only when I saw the complex that I remembered that the region was home to the largest military prison in the country.

I felt slightly uneasy but we drove beyond the older buildings, with their barred windows, until we arrived at a modern block which sat innocently in it’s own landscaped gardens. Nevertheless, security was tight and I was card swiped through three sets of doors as we moved deeper into the building.

“If you would wait in here please.”

I walked into the room without thinking and it was only as the door was slammed closed behind me that I realized that I was in a cell. It was antiseptically white with a bench seat doubling as a bed and a simple stainless steel toilet and basin in the corner.

I convinced myself that it was merely a formality and that someone would be along soon but an hour later no one had come and I started to bang on the locked door. By the end of three hours I badly needed the toilet but I found myself reluctant to go as it somehow seemed like an acceptance of my circumstances. Soon after I gave in a meal was shoved through a flap in the foot of the door. I bellowed my lungs out but there was no answer.

I was there for three days.

Meals arrived at regular intervals through the flap and a pair of shorts and a singlet were delivered in the same way along with a set of toiletries.

At the end of the third day the door finally opened. Two men came into the cell, dressed in nondescript grey coveralls, and in my fury I lunged at them. I did not see the stun gun until it was too late. The current surged through my body paralyzing me in an instant and as I lay quivering on the floor Katrina entered the room.

“Hold him down.”

She knelt and fastened a metal collar around my neck snapping it closed with an obvious effort.

“You can go.”

The two men left, locking the door behind them, leaving Katrina and I alone. I fought for control of my vocal chords.

“What the fuck is all this about.”

She turned to sit down on the bench before replying.

“You have proved more enterprising than I anticipated. Hachimi Khalid was a clever choice.”

“How did you know?”

“His allegiances have been in doubt for some time. The French have been watching him and they asked questions of us when you turned up on the radar.”

“And what the fuck is this place?”

I was slowly regaining some feeling in my limbs and I managed to get myself into a sitting position on the floor.

“This place? This place doesn’t exist, not officially. You see, the nature of our business throws up casualties of war not only physical but mental. There are some military secrets which are just too sensitive to remain trusted to an unsound mind. You might like to think of this as a retirement home.”

“You have to be kidding.”

“I’m in deadly earnest. In here my word is law. In some instances we can use the techniques that you are familiar with to make adjustments and the patients can be released but in other cases….”

“And what the hell has this got to do with me!”

“You are privy to a particular scheme of mine that needs to remain secret.”

My anger grew and I snarled at her.

“So what are you going to do? Hypnotize me again?”

“Unfortunately that is no longer an option. You have already undergone two drug induced programmes a third could cause irreparable damage.”

At that moment it dawned on me that she intended to keep me incarcerated and something in me snapped. I launched myself at her with my hand formed into a fist but I

never reached her. The pain gripped my neck like a noose and dropped me to the floor.

She came and stood over me and showed me the tiny controller which she held in her hand.

“All the staff carry these. If you behave you can earn privileges, in fact many of our guests have come to enjoy their retirement, but if you choose to make waves then you will be brought back into line.”

“This is bloody inhuman! What about the Geneva Convention!?”

“Consider it suspended. You know as well as I do that the government turns a blind eye when it chooses to. This is one such instance. Consider yourself lucky, we could follow the example of some other countries and use a cheaper and more permanent solution.”

“You can’t keep me here!”

“You think not?”

She touched the control and I felt a steadily growing cramp in my neck.

“You know what? I’ve missed you in the last few days…”

As she said it she started to unwrap her skirt from around her waist.

“You’re out of your mind.”

“Just because you’ve managed to overcome your conditioning doesn’t mean that I should miss out on my pleasure.”

“So help me, I will kill you…”

The pain in my neck suddenly increased. It was as if I was carrying a milk maids yoke and someone had just added to the load..

“I could force you with the controller and, believe me, you would break but I haven’t got time for that.

Let me give it to you straight. Most of the guards here are male and they all carry controllers. We have only ever had two female guests and both are long gone. Now, are you getting the picture? You either do as you’re told or I leave you here with my friends for an hour. We will then see if you are any more amenable.”

She had me and she knew it. Under normal circumstances I could have killed the guards with my bare hands but until I knew more about the controller I had to bide my time.

She saw the acquiescence in my eyes.

“That’s a good boy. Come and show me what you can do…”

She sat back down on the bench with her legs wide open and it was obvious that she had been looking forward to this moment. Her labia were puffy and her pubic hair was matted to a dark brown but the final evidence was a glistening line of moisture which ran down her inner thigh - she had been masturbating in anticipation.

I went quickly to work between her thighs plunging my tongue straight into the molten maw that her sex had become.

“Yesss!…Suck me!….”

She took hold of my head in both hands and pulled me in tight. She had waited long enough and she wanted it quick and rough. I drove my tongue in and out of her bringing her quickly to brink but my mind was working furiously I suspected that that neckband could not be forcibly removed but if I could snatch the controller from her I might be able to use her as a hostage.

“Don’t even think about it…They are watching us and they can use the controllers from the other room.”

I could not help myself. I stopped what I was doing and looked around the room for evidence of any unseen cameras.

“You should be grateful. Those boys jack off fantasizing about me and you get to be the lucky one. Now let’s finish what you started.”

It had been bad enough to start with but now, knowing others were witness to my humiliation, it seemed so much worse. She hauled me back in and she was wetter than ever. Having an audience excited her and she played to it.

“Get your tongue inside…isn’t that the sweetest taste…”

“…suck it all out of me…”

“Oh God! I’m wet!”

“Now! Lick my clit…that’s it!”

She was flooding and, as I worked hard to stay with her jerking limbs, she started to come spraying my face with each exultant contraction.

She held me in place as she rode out the waves and I struggled to breathe as she smeared herself all over my face. When it was over she leaned forward and whispered, theatrically, into my ear.

“Why don’t we give them a real treat…”

She pushed me back and then stood over me as she removed the remainder of her clothing with the aplomb of a high class whore. When she was naked she teased her nipples to even greater prominence and then whispered once more.

“Isn’t the army a wonderful thing? They are probably sitting there now with their hands on their cocks drooling over a body they can never have and when I leave the room they are going to have to salute me and cut their own throats if I tell them to.”

With that she arranged herself on the bunk. She knelt with her head low and her arse raised high. She brought her hands behind her and, digging her immaculately manicured nails in deep, she parted her cheeks.

“I’m sure you get the idea.”

The prospect was repulsive but even as I stared at the tight opening, which even now was flexing in excited anticipation, I was reminded of my own possible fate if I refused to co-operate.

Her cleft was darker hued than her general complexion and there was tiny fringe of auburn hairs along its length which, somehow, made the opening itself seem darker and more foreboding.

“Lick me first.”

I presented my tongue and made a first tentative pass picking up the taste of salty, stale, perspiration and then I licked more quickly. The, almost insignificant, hair felt like a prickly growth under my tongue, even when it had been moistened, and I found it difficult not to baulk but I braced myself and carried on.

She luxuriated in my attentions for a few minutes and groaned every now and again no doubt for the benefit of the spectators but my nose told me that she was reaching a new peak of arousal.

“Use you hands. I want to feel it nice and deep.”

I placed the flat of my hands on her cheeks, as she removed her own, and was almost overcome by a momentary urge to tear her apart. She felt so physically fragile but the power she now had over me was crushing.

I speared my tongue and pressed it to the dark ringed opening which yielded with surprising ease. My tongue was enveloped and the taste was strong, almost rank. Once inside she squeezed me tight almost threatening to eject me but I held to my task. I opened my mouth wide, formed a seal, and pushed even deeper.

I was now forced to breathe through my nose, which helped me to ignore the spicy tang and then I simply held myself in place as she brought her fingers into play and began to stimulate herself.

She was in no hurry. Her first orgasm had been quick, almost violent, and this time she wanted to stretch it out. She used her fingers lazily as he gave a periodic commentary.

“Keep it there, deep inside.”

“You’d better get used to the taste. You’re going to be spending a lot of time in this position from now on.”

Fortunately, she seemed stimulated by her own words and I felt her hand pressing against my chin as her fingers began to move more purposefully. As far as I could judge she had two buried deep inside herself whilst she used her thumb to rub her clitoris.

I no longer had the strength to work my tongue and it was now held in place simply by the pressure of her muscles. As her movements became more frantic it was being tugged by the root but, having come so far, I hung in as best I could. As her climax neared she drove her fingers deeper and I could feel the pressure across the divide.

She lifted her head, driving me lower, and spots of perspiration having formed in the small of her back coalesced to form a runnel which trailed downwards to enter her cleft and irritate my nose.

She came with a wail which, under other circumstances, might have sounded despairing, but it trailed off into an undoubted cry of pent up release. She fell forward onto the bunk ripping me painfully free of her in the process.

After a few moments she got up and dressed unhurriedly and headed towards the door which was opened at her approach. As it did, my instincts got the better of me and I threw myself towards her but I was caught mid flight as she activated the collar without even looking back and dropped me to the floor.

*Chapter 7 *

I did not see her for another four days and my frustration grew by the hour. Books and magazines were delivered and even a television set but it was withdrawn for twenty four hours after I threw my meal tray across the cell in a particular fit of anger.

Each day I was taken to a fully equipped gymnasium and allowed to exercise. This room, like my cell, had no windows but that did not stop me contemplating the possibility of escape.

I tried to chat to my guards but they refused to be drawn into conversation and confined themselves to a few necessary grunted commands. They all wore the same generic overalls but Katrina’s remark about being saluted suggested that they were all part of the military establishment.

On the fifth day I opened my eyes instantly when I heard the cell door being opened. It was not the regular time for the gymnasium and I lay still on the bunk coiled and ready to spring.

“Wake up sleepy head.”

I turned over to find Katrina standing in the middle of the cell. She was wearing a toweling gown and her damp hair suggested that she had just showered.

“Don’t look so surprised. My office is in this building now. I was promoted over a year ago and this is now very much my personal fiefdom. I am left to run things just as I wish as long as total secrecy is maintained.”

Her words, whether by design or not, struck fear into me. I would not let myself believe that things were as she had suggested and I had hoped that I would have an opportunity to appeal to a higher authority. It now seemed that the only conduit to the outside world was through her.

“You can’t keep me like this. I’ll be missed; there will be an investigation.”

“You think so? You have no living close relatives and you betrayed the one woman who loved you. As far as the authorities are concerned you disappeared in France.”

“There are flight records.”

“You mean there were. You know better than anyone how things can be influenced.”

I was desperately seeking an angle, a way to outmaneuver her, but she was one step ahead.

“Don’t expect any help from Khalid. He was taken into custody by the French and they put the fear of God into him. It’s amazing how tough they can be when their own interests are threatened.”

One by one the pit props were being knocked away and, galling as it was, I had to try a more conciliatory approach.

“Look, you have nothing to fear from me. I have no interest in your schemes, I’m just happy now that Khalid has put things right. You can let me go and I’ll be out of your life.”

She looked at me for a second or two with a look of almost genuine concern and then she smiled.

“You know, I could almost believe you…almost…but in spite of your other faults you are still touchingly patriotic. I just couldn’t trust you, and besides I still have other uses for you.”

She slowly unfastened the belt of her robe and let it fall open. Another man, at another time, might have melted but I was overtaken by a preternatural anger. With a roar that caught her off guard I rushed at her. I drove her against the wall and felt her breath explode from her lungs but it was the last thing I heard. The collar changed from an inert circle of metal to seemingly living device almost in an instant and I felt as if I was being throttled as I fell to the floor.

I put my fingers under it instinctively but, whilst its circumference had not obviously changed, I choked for breath and continued to do so until I was finally overcome by a welcomed darkness.

When I came to I was lying on my back and it took a few seconds to realize that I had been moved to the gymnasium. I was prone on one of the padded exercise benches staring up at the fluorescent lights which did not help the pounding headache I was suffering with.

I steeled myself and tried to sit up only to realize that I was bound in place by a series of webbing belts which crossed my body from my chest to my shins.

“Welcome back…”

Apart from a heightened colour Katrina looked no worse for her recent experience.

“…that was a very stupid thing to do”.

She pressed her fingers painfully into my cheeks and turned my head to one side. There, just a few feet away, stood one of guards. He had his trousers unfastened and was nursing an erection that would not have been out of place in a porn movie.

“Katrina, don’t do this. Look, I’m sorry…”

“How sorry?”

“Please, let me make it up to you.”

“What do you want to do?”

She wanted me to debase myself and I was more than willing. The alternative was too nauseating to contemplate.

“Let me lick you.”

“Where?”

Her tone was playful but there was no escaping the underlying hint of menace.

“Let me lick your pussy”.

“Is that the best you can do?”

She half turned as if to walk away and I almost shouted after her.

“I want to lick your beautiful pussy!”

She replied over her shoulder.

“Why?”

“I love it…the taste of you…no one ever tasted better.”

I feared for a moment that I had overdone it but she turned back to me with a smile.

“That’s very good. I think you’re learning.”

Her robe was still unfastened and now she let it fall from her shoulders. Off to the side I heard the guard groan and Katrina gave me a knowing smile. There was no preamble. The bench was narrow and she stepped over it and straddled my face with her feet just about touching the ground.

“You winded me rather badly. It’s painful when you have to struggle for breath…you already know that…but it doesn’t seem that you learned your lesson.”

She was already relaxing her legs, lowering herself. She settled over my mouth and then with cold deliberation she parted her labia with her fingers and allowed them to close around my nose.

The slippery folds of skin formed an effective seal and my air was cut off. I gave it a minute and then began to struggle. I could go longer but I hoped that she would relent. I hoped in vain. She remained firmly seated and the purpose of the straps became obvious. As the second minute passed my body tried to spasm but I was held as fixed as a displayed butterfly.

Breathing through my mouth was not an option, her weight would not allow me to unclench my jaw, and so, as I grew more lightheaded, I tried to take a despairing breath through my nose.

It was the worst thing I could have done. I felt her moisture bubbling in my nasal cavities and then it began to choke my lungs. The taste of her swamped my senses with a deadly import. The only time I had ever felt this way before was in the tanks when, on one occasion, I had come close to drowning. Then there had been friendly hands to pull me out but now there was no hope of rescue.

Her weight seemed to grow as she stayed rigidly in place, riding out my ever more desperate struggles, and I gave a final scream as unconsciousness took me.

I was dragged back to reality by the violence of my own choking but it was to find that I was still securely fastened. Sweat was running freely from my pores as I tried to cope with the distress.

“Back with us?”

Katrina loomed over me, still naked.

“Time for you to go back under.”

“Please don’ mmmmff!”

She straddled my head once again, this time facing down my body. As she settled she parted her cheeks and closed them around my nose.

It was a repeat of the session in her home but this time the scent of her triggered a primal fear, the fear of a cornered animal with nowhere to turn. With that the reality of my situation hit me; I knew she was right, she had the power to make me disappear from the official records. No one knew where I was and no one would know if I died right there, suffocating beneath her.

I could not even rely on the guards. The evidence of their own participation in the abuse of the “guests” suggested that they had too much at stake in every sense.

I began to struggle in earnest, and I’m sure I heard her laugh, but as my movements became more forceful she reinforced her dominance over me by the simple expedient of lifting her feet from the floor.

Her whole weight was now crushing down onto my face, the pressure adding to the pain in my head brought on by oxygen deprivation.

Long seconds ticked by and I felt myself growing weaker and, as I did so, she began to grind her hips.

I went under more quickly the second time but it took a lot longer to come around. My eyesight was blurred, my ears were buzzing, and my head felt twice its normal size but more than anything I was aware of the stench of arousal. She had climaxed on my face and with copious results.

I could not take another session. Trained as I was there was bound to be some permanent damage but it seemed that she was sated. She put her robe back on and turned towards the door pausing only to turn to the guard.

“He’s all yours.”

Over the next ten days she visited me at irregular intervals and, now mindful of the consequences of non cooperation, I was a willing subject. She seemed to use me as stress relief, turning up at any time of day or even into the night.

Sometimes she would undress perfunctorily, sit on the bench with her legs parted, and no words were needed.

On other occasions she demanded more. Her favourite was to have me lie on my back whilst she rode my face to a couple of orgasms. These sessions would invariably end with my tongue deep in her fundament whilst she brought herself to a final climax with her fingers.

Through all this my every waking hour was taken up with thoughts of escape but the collar proved an insurmountable obstacle. My exercise regime now included an hour a day in a walled yard but it was made clear to me that the walls were electronically monitored and any attempt to scale them or, indeed, to break the building perimeter in any way would result in the collar being automatically triggered.

I even tried to rebel, forcing them to use the collar, in the hope that whatever charge it carried would be exhausted but, after a particularly demanding session between Katrina’s thighs, she took great delight in telling me that it was charged by induction. The whole time that I was in my cell it was taking up a charge from an unseen wall unit.

Katrina punished my rebelliousness in her own way by reintroducing the training device and demanding that I practice with it twice a day.

After two weeks I was desperately angry and trying not to give into despair. I had neither seen nor heard any evidence of other “guests” and this sense of isolation, as much as anything, was wearing me down. I even began to wonder if what I had been told was true. More than once I considered the possibility that the whole thing was an elaborate sham but then came a day of revelation.

The guards came and told me to get undressed. Satisfied that I was not hiding anything they led me, still naked, left along the corridor. Up until then we had always gone right towards the gym and the yard now we were going in the direction from which I had first entered the facility.

I desperately trawled my mind for the local geography but we did not go far. I was ushered into a room just a few yards from my cell and the door was closed behind me. In front of me was an opulently appointed office. It was dominated by large desk and leather chair but there was also a guest sofa and a consulting couch. The walls were lined with shelves of medical journals but my eyes were drawn longingly to a huge picture window which gave a view of the gardens.

Unfortunately all of this was separated from me by a glass partition which effectively formed one wall of the room. The area I now occupied was altogether more austere. The walls were white, as in my cell, and the single piece of furniture was an aluminium seat, with rounded edges, which was bolted to the floor. Even the lush carpet finished at the partition leaving me standing on grey thermo-plastic tiles.

I was tempted to test the glass but I would not give them the satisfaction. It would almost certainly be laminated to withstand any threat.

I took a seat and waited. I tried to remain outwardly calm but inside I was consumed with curiosity. Eventually the office door opened and when it did I was shocked.

I was expecting Katrina and my heart almost stopped when Vikki entered the room.

“Vikki! How did you find me!”

In the next second or two I intuited that she had been in the room before. She was completely unfazed by the bizarre layout and she seemed even less surprised to find me completely naked.

She crossed the room and sat on the sofa which faced directly into the space I was occupying. She crossed her legs and my eyes were drawn to them in almost Pavlovian fashion.

“Vikki, you’ve got to get me out of here! At least let someone know that I’m still alive.”

She looked at me almost quizzically and for a moment I felt like a laboratory specimen. When she finally spoke it was with a measured calm.

“First off, you should know that Katrina and I have become good friends. She tells me that you are now a threat to national security.”

“That’s bullshit! You can’t believe that!”

Even through my anger I noticed that the partition allowed us to converse almost normally, as though there was no impediment.

“Secondly, I have only come here to show you something. When I leave you will never see me again.”

“Vikki! For fucks sake! This is deadly serious! If anyone is a threat it’s Katrina.”

She ignored me and got up from the sofa. She walked to the door and opened it.

“Come on in.”

If seeing Vikki had been a shock then seeing Shauna was unbalancing. She was Vikki’s best friend and the last time I had seen her was the night of our betrayal. In fairness to Shauna I knew that she had a thing for me and I had plied her with alcohol; the petite Irish girl was almost too kind hearted and would never have betrayed Vikki otherwise

Unlike Vikki Shauna was obviously bewildered by her surroundings.

“Vikki, what’s going on? You said we were having a meal. What is this place and what is he doing here?”

When she looked towards me she did not seem to notice my nakedness such was the contempt she held me in but I had to try.

“Shauna! I’m being held here against my will! You’ve got to let somebody know!”

Vikki sat back down on the sofa and when she had my attention she spoke.

“Syracuse is waiting.”

The phrase echoed in my mind but I could not help but give a grim smile. Khalid’s treatment had been effective and I knew that I was safe from that threat at least.

It was a small triumph but it was very short lived. Even as I watched Shauna went down to her knees.

“What’s happening to me!?”

She was genuinely panicked but Vikki ignored her and addressed herself to me.

“You see Katrina has taught me one or two of her parlour tricks.”

As I watched she hitched up her skirt.

“Shauna, come and take off my panties.”

The look of incomprehension on Shauna’s face turned to one of horror. She was fighting Vikki’s request with all her will but she was already moving forward on her knees.

“Vikki! Stop this!”

Shauna sounded like a little girl trapped in the dark but Vikki was already lifting herself slightly to allow her erstwhile friend to do as she was told.

Shauna’s body was visibly shaking as her hands reached forward to peel the silky material down Vikki’s bare legs.

“Vikki! This has nothing to do with her! Leave her alone.”

She ignored me as she reached forward to put a hand to the back of Shauna’s head.

“I’ve been thinking of this all the way out here. I’m surprised you couldn’t smell me in the car.”

“Vikki, please, I’m not like that…you and I are just friends.”

“Were friends, I’ll think you find. You are always so high and mighty with your ‘church on Sunday’ ways. Well now you’re going to get down and dirty. Come and get your tongue in my cunt.”

It was not a word I had ever heard her use before and there was an almost unnoticeable hesitation as she said it but it had the desired effect on Shauna. She flinched as if she had been slapped. To shock her further she brought up her legs so that her feet were resting on the sofa and her sex was displayed in all its magnificence.

“Please…I can’t”

In her mind she was appalled but her body continued its betrayal. She was bending forward and to my shame I felt disappointed that my view was now obscured.

“That’s right…Lick it all over…I’ve been creaming for hours…”

Every word was designed to increase Shauna’s humiliation and I could hear her sobbing even as she carried out Vikki’s bidding.

“You little bitch…I knew you’d be good at this…get your tongue inside. I want to see how deep you can go.”

I was not sure what was worse. She could have conditioned Shauna to enjoy what she was doing but she had chosen to make her an unwilling puppet. I was sure that the former would have led to greater physical pleasure for Vikki but I could see, by the look on her face, that she found Shauna’s tears almost as arousing as her tongue.

“Let me hear you sucking …drink it!”

She did not last long. Within a couple of minutes she was screaming in ecstasy holding Shauna’s face tightly to her sex as it erupted.

In the silence that followed Shauna’s piteous weeping tugged at my heart but that did not prevent me from sporting a healthy erection. As Vikki come down from on high she noticed it too and her smile was wicked.

“Well, well, well…somebody’s eager…Don’t even think about touching yourself. If you do I’ll let Katrina know. She tells me that she has some interesting ways of keeping you in line.”

I did indeed feel an urge to take hold of myself. It had been a long time since I had been aroused but a combination of Katrina’s abuse and other incidents I cared not to think about had effectively neutered me.

She slinked up from the sofa and picked up a cushion which she dropped on the floor just a couple of feet from the partition.

“Shauna, get over here.”

Under normal circumstances Shauna is a beautiful woman but as she turned towards me with her makeup badly smeared and her gorgeous green eyes red with tears she looked broken.

“Lie on your back, head on the cushion.”

“Please…no more…”

“Just do it.”

She came slowly, as if dragging a ball and chain, and with a fresh wail she laid herself down.

Vikki stepped over her, her feet planted either side of her head, and then she slowly undressed. Once she was naked she slowly came to her knees so that she was squatting directly over Shauna’s face.

“Do you remember that you once said that you wished you had an arse like mine?

Well here’s your opportunity. I want to feel your tongue right inside.”

She reached back and parted her cheeks and Shauna’s pathetic scream was drowned out as Vikki slowly came to rest.

Shauna’s body convulsed as she fought the command and no doubt fought for air but from the broad, almost surprised, smile on Vikki’s face I could tell that Shauna had lost the fight.

“Oh yes! I bet you just love that.”

She let go with her hands allowing her cheeks to come together entombing Shauna more deeply under the weight of flesh.

“Come on you can do better than that…stretch…get it deeper.”

She settled herself more fully and then she brought her fingers to her sex. Holding my gaze she began to stimulate herself with one hand whilst teasing her nipples to aching stiffness with the other.

“Do you see what you’re going to be missing?”

Her words were ragged as somewhere beneath her in the closed, hot, darkness Shauna’s reluctant tongue worked it’s magic.

For my part my erection was so strong that it was painful but I could not run the risk of using my hand. I was forced to simply sit and watch as Vikki moved closer to a second orgasm.

When it came her fingers were almost a blur as she ground herself viciously over Shauna’s face and once it was over she stayed in place as she continued to lazily stimulate her nipples.

It was with obvious reluctance that she finally got to her feet and Shauna looked as if she had been in a boxing match.

As Vikki dressed I could see Shauna clenching her fists but she knew, as I did, that even without hypnosis it would have been a physical mismatch. She resorted to threats.

“I’m going to the Police.”

Vikki simply smiled.

“Oh no you’re not you little bitch. I’ve not finished with you yet, not by a long way. You’d better get used to being on your knees because my cunt is going to become your second home.”

Shauna’s brave front collapsed like a house of cards and she fled from the room in tears. Vikki chased after her but she paused at the door.

“Oh, by the way, don’t build your hopes up. By the time she gets back to town she’ll have forgotten she was ever here.”

*Chapter 8*

* *She was true to her word. She did not return.

Immediately following her visit I asked for paper and pens and was mildly surprised when my request was granted. My first thought, as they no doubt guessed, was to write down all the details as I remembered them, times, dates, names in the hope that I could smuggle it out. That script was found and Katrina laughed as she shredded it in front of me.

This document is more veiled and they seem happy with it, safe in the knowledge that no one outside of the facility will ever read it. It has been something of a catharsis to write all down and I do not bother trying to hide it even though I know it brings them great amusement when they read it.

In the weeks that followed Katrina continued her visits and I felt that as time went by that I was more an object to her than a person. Any questions regarding the length of my incarceration resulted in a withdrawal of privileges

On the sixtieth day she came in and announced that she would be going away for a few weeks. She was being seconded abroad and I was told that new arrangements were in hand for me.

The following morning I was taken back to the office where the episode with Vikki occurred. Seated at the desk on the other side of the partition was a woman in the uniform of a full Colonel in the medical corp.

I was amazed at how happy I was to see a fresh face and the more so when she displayed a totally professional demeanour. She told me to take a seat and began to flick through a folder in front of her on the desk.

“The details on you are a little…scant.”

I found it hard to keep the sarcasm from my voice.

“That’s probably because I have never been accused, tried or sentenced.”

She gave a resigned smile.

“We both know the nature of this facility, certain niceties have to be dispensed with, but even by the standards of our usual ‘guests’ your case seems unusual.”

Now I grew really angry.

“Look, I have been held here with no contact with the outside world and I have been subject to abuse.”

She raised an eyebrow at this.

“Even in here we recognize certain codes of conduct. If you wish to make a formal complaint I will have the forms delivered to your cell.”

At that point the interview was terminated. I was escorted back to my cell but, true to her word, the forms were delivered.

A second interview took place two days later. The forms did not go into detail: they basically required me to set out the broad nature of the complaint and to confirm my intention to pursue it. On this occasion the woman introduced herself as Colonel Winslett. She briefly set out how the process would work and told me that she would forward the papers.

For the first time in a long while I took heart. Winslett was a model of professionalism but I sensed a warmer side to her. I guessed that she was in her forties and she did not wear a wedding ring. She wore her blonde hair swept back in the prescribed military style and if she wore make-up it was very minimal. That said, she had striking features. She was a heavy set woman with a round face that benefited from high cheek bones and Nordic blue eyes.

I heard nothing for a few days until I was escorted back to my cell from the gym one morning to find Winslett sitting on my bunk. The first thing I noticed was that she wore a musky perfume which had pervaded the cell. The second thing I noticed was the manuscript in her hand.

“I want you to be absolutely straight with me. Does this document give a truthful account of what has happened to you here?”

“Yes, it does.”

She was silent for a full minute as she flicked back through the pages and then she put them aside and stood up. She walked to the door and closed it, the locks automatically thudding into place.

Standing in front of me she began to unfasten the buttons of her uniform tunic.

“What are you doing?”

“Your story seems a little…far fetched. If I am to bring about the ruin of a serving officer I’ll need proof.”

As realization dawned I lost my cool.

“The cell is monitored. Take a look at the bloody tapes!”

“Unfortunately, they are wiped daily.”

She took off her tunic quickly followed by her crisply starched blouse.

“I don’t know what you have it mind, but it stops right here!.”

I had no sooner made the threat than the collar throttled me with a sudden violence bringing me to my knees. Only then did I see the controller in her hand.

She slowly finished undressing until she stood in just her underwear which was at odds with her formal uniform. The matching bra and pants looked expensive and I was surprised to see that she favoured stockings and suspenders.

She knew how to make the best of herself but there was no disguising that she was a heavy woman in her forties battling with time. Her breasts were large but kept in proportion by her broad shoulders. She was carrying a little extra weight around her waist and in another year or two her belly would be quite pronounced. Fortunately for her she was a little above average height, which helped her disguise a few pounds, but she had thick thighs which, to her credit, she kept well toned.

She stood still whilst I appraised her safe in the knowledge that, in the final analysis, it did not matter what I thought. After a few seconds she looked up, presumably towards a camera, and seemingly have come to a decision she took off her bra.

Her breasts immediately sagged a little but her dark up tilted nipples suggested that it would be some time yet before gravity finally took its toll. I processed these thoughts automatically, as any man would, but then the implications came home to me.

The guards had to be watching, she would be relying on them to restrain me if it became necessary, and there was, therefore, no way now that she would report them.

The sense of betrayal lay upon me like a winter storm and I rose to my feet with a red mist before my eyes. I hit out at her, but it was a wild swing, and she saw it coming. She swayed backwards, displaying surprising reflexes, and then hit the controller.

She must have instinctively pushed it to maximum because I was felled like a tree and lay on the floor shaking uncontrollably. Without missing a beat she moved closer to me and slipped off her panties. I was left looking up at her from the floor and as I did so she moved her feet apart.

She was a natural blonde but oddly, for someone who obviously spent time and money when choosing her underwear, she did not go in for a great deal of personal grooming. She had a thick, unruly, growth of pubic hair which formed a high line on her crotch and spread to her inner thighs.

“Show me what see makes you do.”

I tried not to but she increased the current in the collar by degrees and I writhed up from the floor like an uncoiling snake. She took hold of my hair, forced my head back viciously, and then pulled me under her.

My mouth was suddenly full of her sex and I was immediately overcome by her taste and smell which was redolent of the perfume which she must have dabbed between her thighs.

I had to open my mouth to breathe but as soon as I did so it was filled with springy hair tainted with her arousal.

I could have resisted, perhaps should have resisted, but it was easier on myself to submit. I could probably have borne the agony of the collar until it rendered me unconscious but I could not bear the shame of having the guards let loose on me.

I put out my tongue and probed through the undergrowth until I reached the hot spring. Her sex was gaping, larger than any I had known. I had never been with a woman who had been through childbirth but this was how I feared it would be.

Her labia were slippery and ill defined and for a second or two I was not sure whether or not I had penetrated her but the question was answered when she moved forward slightly increasing the strain on my neck.

Her sex seemed to ooze over me, like something from a Dali painting, and then I was covered with her viscous outpouring. I felt as if I was being sucked in but I continued to lick blindly.

I wanted to open my eyes but each time I did I was irritated by stray hairs and I was forced to close them again.

She was breathing heavily through her nose and it was not a pleasant sound but at least it hinted at some measure of success. Unfortunately, my own breathing was hampered by the smell of her perfume. Mixed with her own natural scent it formed a heavy fragrance which clutched the back of my throat with every laboured breath that I took.

I guessed that this was a new experience for her. I could tell that she was close to orgasm but she was trying to hold herself back, to wring every last drop from it, before she allowed herself relief. Then, suddenly, she stopped breathing altogether and her body began to quiver. For a count of ten she remained poised on an unsteady tightrope and then, with a rushing gasp and a drawn out groan she flooded me with her climax.

Once started, she seemed reluctant to give it up, each heavy heartbeat pumped more syrupy sap into my open mouth but choking was the least of my worries. With the onset of her climax her muscles had relaxed and she was bearing down on me even more heavily threatening the fragility of my spine.

Without warning she released my hair and let me fall away from her. It was over and, without a word, she got herself dressed and left the cell. the door having opened at her approach.

When she had left I wanted to weep. I had foolishly built up my hopes only to have then cruelly dashed.

That same evening she returned. There were no preliminaries, no niceties, she put down the case she was carrying and proceeded to undress. I just had time to notice that she had changed her underwear before she removed it and hung it over the back of the chair with the rest of her uniform.

“God, I’ve been horny all day long just thinking about that tongue of yours.”

She stepped over to my bunk and picked up my pillows. She placed them, one on top of the other, midway down the bed and then draped herself, face down, over them.

In this way her hips were elevated and, as I watched, she opened her legs slightly. She looked back at me from her new position with an evil smile.

“I’m sure you don’t need telling …”

In my mind I raised my hand and brought it down on her flesh with a resounding crack but in reality there was no such option. I walked to the foot of the bunk knowing the guards were watching me and no doubt hoping that I would step out of line. The one thing that kept me going was the thought of revenge. I would escape, somehow, and I would track them all down.

I moved up behind her and took in the contours of her raised cheeks. She was pale skinned but I could clearly see a tracery of stretch marks and three tiny, but distinct, pitted scars.

Her lewd position revealed her sex, which gave off her scent like a damp pelt, but we both knew what she wanted. I went higher and as I got closer my breath on her skin made her shiver with anticipation and the tight opening, which had now become my focus, slowly dilated as though to beckon me in.

I applied my tongue reluctantly and, at the first gentle touch, her muscles clenched reflexively.

“MMMmmmm…lick me…”

I stroked my tongue along the valley picking up the now familiar taste of musty perspiration. It was tempting to stoop low and engage her sex in the hope that I would be spared the greater misery but I guessed that, with her new found streak of cruelty, I would only be postponing the inevitable.

For a few minutes she seemed content with my efforts but as she grew more exited her flesh took on a rosier hue and I could feel the heat rising from her.

With each pass of my tongue I skirted the opening itself but she read my unwillingness as a deliberate tease. She was not upset by it, why should she be? After all she had but to say the word.

After a few more seconds she curled herself more tightly around the pillows.

“…now.”

I closed my eyes and braced myself. My mind conjured up an image of Vikki but her tight globes bore no comparison with the fleshy hillocks that I was now called upon to serve. My tongue drew ever tighter circles as the black hole at the centre slowly sucked me into its gravity well.

As I made contact she let out a long groan of contentment and it took surprisingly little effort to push my tongue through the opening.

It took a second or two to register that the sharp taste was, in fact, a fragranced soap and I had visions of her preparing for this moment. She had cleaned herself well, no doubt drooling as she contemplated the prospect of having my tongue as deep, if not deeper, than she had obviously had her finger.

I held my tongue in place and it was squeezed by a series of excited pulsations which wanted to draw me in. As seconds passed the clinical tang of soap was soon dissipated to be replaced by a more natural, dank, taste redolent of clammy caves denied the light of day.

I hoped that she would tire of the novelty and allow me to finish her off with my tongue in her sex but it was not to be. She shifted awkwardly as she reached underneath herself to take hold of her nipples. She began to squeeze the engorged teats almost savagely and, in less than a minute, she reached a spontaneous orgasm.

As it came to a finish my tongue was squeezed free and I ran it round inside my mouth gingerly whilst she slowly got back to her feet. I saw that my pillow was soiled by a large damp stain and she smiled when she saw my look of revulsion.

She picked up her clothes and, on leaving the cell, she mimed a deep sniff.

“Sweet dreams.”

I saw no more of her for two days but it was a mixed blessing. My routine remained fixed and I could still not engage the guards in conversation.

It was almost exactly one a.m. when I saw her next. I was alert as soon as the cell door opened and looked at the luminous dial of my watch without thinking. She had obviously been out for the evening as she was wearing an expensive, purple brocade, dress. It fitted her snuggly, and I suspected that it had been made to measure, but it brought to mind images of Mae West.

In fairness to her she had far softer features than the actress and with skillfully applied make-up she was able to bring out her natural beauty. I was in no way attracted to her but I could see how she might appeal to certain men.

“Stay as you are.”

The ambient temperature in the cell was such that I slept naked on top of the blankets and I was reaching for something to cover myself with.

She moved closer and I caught the smell of wine on her breath but she appeared perfectly sober. She stood a couple of feet away from me and, whilst holding my eyes, she reached beneath her dress to remove her panties.

As she tossed them aside I noticed that she was not carrying the controller but she had seen where I was looking.

“Don’t even think about it. Your room is monitored twenty four hours a day.”

With that she slipped onto the bed as though by divine right. For a second or two she straddled my hips and I thought that she might want to engage in straight forward sex but I was quickly disabused.

“Take a breath. I’m going to ride your face.”

She was like a young girl swearing in front of her parents to see what reaction it would get and I wondered how new to this she was. Only later did it occur to me that I might have been the architect of my own downfall and that it was possibly my own narrative that was fuelling her boldness.

She shuffled forward, her dress awkwardly rucked around her hips, and used her knees to pin my shoulders. After that was only darkness. She nestled on my face and pulled her dress down like a curtain.

She was aroused, and probably had been for hours. As I was sealed in I was almost overwhelmed by the richness of her scent which could not escape the heavy brocade. It also served to raise the temperature to an unbearable level and my face began to run with sweat.

She moved uncertainly at first, bearing down with very little weight, but once she found how easy it was to rub herself over my face, and the pleasure to be had from it, she grew in confidence. Her movements became more vigorous and she parted her knees slightly squashing my features more heavily

I kept my mouth closed but the taste of her still bled between my lips and with every laboured breath my nostrils burned.

I started to count. Each time I reached sixty I started again and ticked off another mental minute. I was into the seventh counting before she came but it was not the end. She worked her hips in a vicious circle as she screwed down on my face and her whole body shook as she took flight.

As she came down from on high she seemed to take delight in slowly smearing the product of her orgasm all over my face but, in so doing, she started to build the tension once more. It was not long before she started the slow, inexorable, climb towards a second climax.

This one, building on the dying tremors of the first, came more quickly helped by the fact that she was working her hips like a steam piston. She showed remarkable agility for someone of her size and, at the finish, she was pushing herself back and forth across my face once a second almost as though she feared to lose it should she not keep up.

Beneath her, my whole head ached. My nose was being repeatedly crushed and even my eye sockets felt as though they were being punished. This, combined with the heat and the fact that I had not been able to breathe properly for some minutes, set up a dull but insistent throbbing that grew within my skull.

She did not slow down at the trigger point, if anything she moved faster, but, mercifully, it was over quickly. Even before it had run its course she lifted herself from me. It was as though she did not trust herself not to go for a third.

She remained poised above me and I could feel the heat radiating from her. It was like being too close to a fire and not being able to turn away. With every heavy breath her buttocks quivered and I lay there fearing the avalanche that might bring them down upon me.

Finally, with an obvious effort and a degree of reluctance, she got up from the bed and, without another word, she went to the door which was unlocked for her by one of the ever present guards.

In the weeks that followed I prayed for Katrina’s return.

In that time Winslett grew more and more demanding. She would turn up unannounced at any time of night and day. Simply going down on her became a blessing. More often than not she wanted my tongue deep in her arse but her favourite pastime was to ride my face.

She had read what Katrina had inflicted upon me and she seemed determined to outdo her.

One evening she arrived with a package and when I saw what it was my rage overcame me. I hurled a stream of invective at her and I had my hands around her throat for some seconds before I was overcome by the collar.

For a second time I found myself strapped down in the gym and I could not resist as she closed the helmet around my head.

It was formed of heavy rubber and a Velcro fastening at the back ensured a snug fit. It had small eye holes but she closed these off by the simple expedient of a little gaffer tape. I was left in a close darkness unable even to hear what was going on around me.

My mouth was filled with a bulb of rubber, about the size of a small orange, attached to a rubber phallus which protruded eight inches from my face.

It must have had tiny air holes because I found that, with an effort, I could draw air through it which was just as well because the opening for my nose was so tight that my nostrils were almost pinched closed.

I had been trained to overcome claustrophobia but the silence and blackness coupled with the uncertainty was putting a severe strain on my sanity. Fortunately, I was not kept waiting for long. I felt the bench give as her bulk loomed over me and then, in a single easy movement, she impaled herself.

She slid down the shaft slowly and I had to bite down on the bulb to stop it being driven to the back of my throat. As she came to rest on my face the rubber of the helmet was stretched so tightly against my skin that I could feel it tugging at my eyebrows threatening to pull them out.

I could no longer breathe through my mouth and I barely had time to breathe through my nose before her pubis, with its nest of curls pressed suffocatingly against the nasal opening.

She rested there for a moment, making sure that I fully understood the implications, and then she began a slow rise and fall. She was a big woman but in my fevered imagination she had become a giantess. Each time she reached the bottom of a downstroke she paused for a couple of seconds, letting me bear her weight, and I thought I would loose my teeth.

I timed my breathing so that I took shallow draughts of air through my nose each time she rose but I was simply not getting enough oxygen. In a panic I tried to suck through the bulb but all I got now was a rancid distillation of her juices.

I lost track of time in what, for me, had become a fight for survival but it was not too long before she picked up the pace and the increased volume of moisture dripping into my mouth suggested she was close.

When it came she was resting fully on my face and, in a final act of sadism, she used her fingers to pinch my nose closed. I was caught in an earthquake as her bodyweight rocked on me and then quivered in a series of violent aftershocks.

Eventually, she found the strength to lift herself from me but I close to fainting. It was unnaturally hot inside the helmet and I recognized some of the symptoms of heat exhaustion. I tried to calm myself and took measured breaths through my nose, the shaft itself still yielding nothing but moisture.

I must have lain there for a quarter of an hour when I sensed someone close by and I could not help myself from trying to yell. I felt fingers at the back of the helmet and I gave a silent sigh of relief but then I felt the thing drawn tighter. Seconds later she was back on my face and this time I knew she was facing down my body. Her buttocks now dictating my air supply and I tried to cry out in despair.

And so the pattern was set. Sometimes the sessions could last for hours as she rode out orgasm after orgasm. She even insisted that I shaved twice a day and threatened me with permanent depilation.

She rarely used the controller, knowing that the threat of the guards was enough in itself, but on two occasions she did use a strap on to humiliate me. Fortunately, I do not think she took any physical please from acting the man but my discomfort obviously amused her.

It was five weeks to the day since Katrina left when Winslett entered the cell with a beaming smile and a companion. The new arrival wore a sergeant’s uniform but it must have been tailored especially for her. She was tall, an inch or two over six foot, and, whilst an army uniform is not the most flattering form of attire, it hinted at a shapely but athletic body.

She was very dark skinned and I guessed that she might be Ethiopian. Her face had the natural beauty of that race and when she smiled she had almost impossibly perfect teeth. Her head was shaved to a short frizz, that went further than regulations dictated, and if I had seen her in the street I probably would have pegged her as a lesbian.

I was still wondering what her visit entailed when Winslett took pleasure in enlightening me.

“Katrina won’t be coming back. She has accepted a permanent position but you’ll be pleased to know that I will remain in charge here for the foreseeable future and Sergeant Lielit

will be taking over as head of the guard detail.”

I could feel my psychological foundations slipping. The news that Katrina would not be back was a body blow. She was the reason for my being there and, even now, I hoped that I might appeal to her. I thought that I might even get her to hypnotize me again, regardless of the dangers. I would risk death if it meant that I could regain my freedom.

“I’ve told Sergeant Lielit all about you and she can’t wait to try you out…”

“This document came to light on the internet following the recent well publicized fire. The government has denied that the military facility was ever used as a “prison within a prison” and strenuously refutes the allegation that unsentenced inmates have now been moved elsewhere. ”

“It is believed that the original manuscript was recovered and made public by a fire crew. The version given here has only been altered slightly to give a narrative thread but all other details remain unchanged.”

“The official death toll from the fire is put at four persons who, at this time, still remain unnamed.”

“No. No, mistress.”

She fastened the collar around his neck, then pulled a long leash out of the drawer and attached it. She walked him from the bedroom through the living room and into the kitchen, then she opened the back door onto the wooden patio.

“Oh, my God,” he gasped “What if somebody–one of the neighbors–sees?”

She opened the outer door and he reluctantly reached out one hand and then the other, followed by his knees.

“Good. That’s a good boy,” she cooed, patting him on the head. “Now down the steps, and into the yard.”

The wood was hot in the mid-summer heat and it scorched his palms and knees, making him draw in his breath

He began to crawl down the three steep wooden steps.

“Stop!” she commanded. He froze with his hands on the bottom step, his face close to the ground, while his legs were on the top stop, his back slightly bowed, the pearly white buttocks pointed up to the sky. “I just love this view,” she sang, standing behind him. “Your cute little ass is high up in the air and I can see your balls just dangling down between your legs. Go slow,” she said, lightly tapping her fingertips against his balls “I love to watch them bounce.”

At the bottom of the stairs there was a narrow cement path, which hurt his hands and knees to walk on.

“O.K. Onto the grass and sniff around.” He did as he was told, slowly sniffing his way forward, embarrassed, terrified that the next door neighbor might look out the window and see him.

“Ah,” she said, pointing several feet ahead and to the left. “I think that’s your tree.” He crawled slowly towards it, sniffing the ground as he went.

As he reached the base of it, a woman suddenly pushed open the fence door, bounded into the yard and gave a yelp of surprise.

“Oh, my God, oh my God,” Billy muttered, dropping his head and trembling in humiliation.

“Patti, what the–?”

“Oh, Carol. Hi. This is my little pet.”

Carol’s jaw had dropped, and, even though she and Patti–best friends for years–had often exchanged some of their most wicked domination fantasies, she hadn’t the slightest notion that Patti had ever gone so far as to act on any of them. She stared speechless.

“We. . .we had made a date to play tennis this afternoon,” Carol said, as matter-of-factly as she could.

“I forgot because we,” gesturing down to Billy, “Had this unexpected change of plans.” Standing behind him, with Carol directly opposite, Patti leaned down and said loudly, “You can lift your left leg now.” After a second, she placed her hand lightly on his rump and looked up to Carol, feigning apology, “He gets a little shy, especially in front of strangers. Maybe you can help?”

Carol, by now having caught on, gave a nod.

“I think you can just chuck him under the chin and lift his face and maybe pat his head. I’ll tickle his balls from behind at the same time–sometimes that helps him go.”

Carol gently put her fingers under his chin and lifted his face and cooed, “Ah, there’s a boy. . .there’s a boy.” Smiling broadly, her face inches from his, she patted his head lightly while Patti played with his heavy-hanging testicles like a golfer absent-mindedly jangling a couple of golf balls.

He thought he ought to weep; he was surprised that he did not and instead that he lifted his left leg with resignation.

“A little higher, I think. Don’t you, Carol?”

“Yes,” she answered, now eagerly joining her friend.

They waited in silence until the stream of urine splattered against the tree.

“Good boy! Yes, that’s a good boy!” Patti cooed, patting him on the head. “Carol, chuck him under the chin and tell him what a good boy he is.”

Carol leaned and, putting a finger beneath his chin, raised his face to meet hers; she smiled and tickled him there, then petted the top of his head. “Ah, You look so sad!” she said in her most sympathetic voice.

“There, that’s a good boy,” Patti said, patting his flank then tickling his butt with her fingernails, “Yes, that’s a good boy!”

“Ah, there’s a good boy, there’s a good boy!” Carol repeated, again patting him on the head.

“C’mon, wag your tail for Carol,” Patti commanded.

He moved his hips from side to side.

“You know,” Patti said, “He really likes getting his belly rubbed.”

“Does he!” Carol squealed, grinning ear to ear as she lifted his face up to hers.

Patti instructed him to roll over onto his back.

“Well? lift those legs up to your chest and then spread them wide,” she said, looking to Carol with mock exasperation. “He really hasn’t been trained yet.”

Carol was already tickling his chest and under his arms, then let her fingertips scrape up and down his belly.

“He’s adorable, just adorable. But he’s so quiet. Oh, why are you so quiet?” she said, bringing her face to his chest.”

“Yes, don’t be so quiet,” Patti echoed.

He let out a whimper.

“There’s a boy,” Patti said.

Carol lightly tickled his soft genitals and thighs. Patti joined in her laughter. “Oh, you’re so cute,” Carol squealed, her fingertips quickly darting all over his genital area again. “And how cleaned up he is!”

“Yes, we needed a shave today,” Patti said, almost beaming, then, as if wanting to boast, “You know, he really is a mite more impressive than he appears. He seems shy but I think he likes it if you tickle his balls.”

As Carol did so, Patti began stroking his penis.

“Oh, my, my, my you were right!” Carol cried, as the penis swelled. “So when do you play with him next?

“Every day at four-thirty.”

“Tell me,” Carol mock whispered, “Is this a totally ‘committed’ relationship?”

Patti beamed. “Of course not. We’d love to have you come play.”

“Can’t wait,” Carol said, giving Billy’s belly a final rub. “Bye-bye Billy.”

Once inside the house, Patti removed the collar and chain and told Billy to dress.

Patti walked Billy to the back door and, handing him his shirt said, “So–tomorrow at four-thirty.”

Meekly he answered, “Tomorrow at four-thirty.”

She lifted his downturned face and, smiling warmly, she said, “Hey, don’t look so glum! Remember what they said at the end of ‘Casablanca.’”

“What?”

“‘I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship’.”

She lays under his weight trying to catch her breath, her grip on him begins to relax as her orgasmic tremors lessen. She can feel his heart pounding through her chest, both of their pulses still racing, gradually slowing toward a normal pace. He moves his hips, stirring his cock inside her & she pleads, “Please don’t move Master.” He grins evilly & rotates his hips, slowly grinding into her. She whimpers as he slides his hand down between them & begins to rub her clit vigorously. “Nooo,” she begs, trying to push him off of her & she begins to cum yet again. He tugs on the chain between her nipples, sending sharp jolts of pain through her breasts as the pleasure bursts from her sex. He kisses her deeply, taking her breath away as she moans helplessly into his mouth. Biting her lips as he breaks the kiss, he smiles looking into her eyes. She lays panting & exhausted, her skin still criss-crossed with pink stripes, a sheen of sweat covering her body.

Gingerly he removes one of the clamps, bending to softly kiss & lick her sore nipple. She sighs as he does the same with her other nipple, then lays his body along side of hers. The air is cool on her burning skin, her body aching deliciously she looks over at him & smiles weakly. She takes his hand, kisses each fingertip, then kisses his palm & breathes, “My beloved Master.” He cups her cheek & kisses her tenderly, trailing his hand down, stroking her throat. “My precious petal,” he whispers toying with the collar around her neck. His eyes gleam impishly as he says, “You know I shall have to punish your for the glass you broke.” The indignant look on her face makes him chuckle & he pulls her close, kissing her deeply. “Not to worry lover, I won’t punish you too severely.” he teases & she giggles. “Anything you say Master.” she purrs cuddling closer in his arms.

I pull his head away from the wall and untie the buckle of the leather strap attached to the ball gag and pull it out of his mouth. I slap him across the face and then grab his hair and bang the back of his head against the wall of the closet. I then pull his head forward by pulling his hair and force his mouth into my crotch again. He can feel the soft material of My dress over his head and feels my naked skin against his lips. He opens his mouth and begins to lick. I put one of my feet on his shoulder and lean down so that I am half sitting on his face, half bracing my back against the side of the closet. I allow him to lick and order him to suck till I climax.

I turn around and bend over and reach around and push his head into my ass. I am holding him by the hair behind me pulling him into me as he licks my ass. I put my hands on the side of the closet in front of me and push hard so that I am pushing my ass into his face, forcing him back against the side of the wall behind him and smother him. He is unable to breathe as I push harder and harder against the wall, smashing his face into me and the back of his head into the wall behind him.

When he is struggling, I move forward and he feels the hem of my dress brush the front of his face. He is still unable to see as the blindfold is still covering his eyes. I then walk out of the closet, close the door and lock it again. He lays back against the wall and waits for my return. It is getting very cold because he is in the basement where there is no heat and he is dressed only in his shirt and shorts.

He lifts his feet and rests them on the other side of the wall of the closet to get them off the concrete floor. When I come back and unlock the door, I swing the door open and stomp on his crotch and kick him over and over again. He is leaning to the rear of the closet trying to escape the blows of my boot in his side. I then raise him to a standing position and take off the blindfold again. I unlock his wrists from the handcuffs and tell him to take the clothes out of the dryer and put them in the basket. He does as told and picks up the basket and walks in front of me up the stairs and into the house as I close the door behind him.

I lead him over to the couch and tell him to put the basket down on the floor in the middle of the living room. I pull his hair and pull down so that he follows and is now sitting on the floor with his legs crossed in front of the basket. I bind his wrists in rope and tell him to fold the clothes. He takes his time and does the best he can folding the clothes with his wrists bound so close together and manages to do a decent job. I am pacing behind him as he is folding the clothes and smacking him with the black riding crop every few minutes ordering him to hurry it up. He is just happy to be in the warm house again.

As he is folding the clothes, I come behind him with a collar and attach it around his neck, buckle it in the back and attach a lock to it. I attach a chain leash to the D-ring in the front. I pull on the leash when he is finished folding, which pulls him up from the floor. I tell him to get the clothes and then I lead him around to the various places the clothes go as he puts them away.

When the clothes are all put away, I sit down on the bed and order him to remove my boots and then make him smell my feet. I push his head away from me with my feet, stand and then lead him with the leash into the kitchen and untie his wrists from the rope, but leave his ankles bound. I leave the collar on, but remove the leash.

I tell him to lay down in front of the kitchen counter with his head close to the stove, face down. As he lays down on the floor, his cheek lands in something sticky and he notices all the crumbs and dirt on the floor and thinks to himself that he should really clean this up for me.

I then walk into the kitchen and balance myself along the counter while walking up his thighs and stand on his butt which is even with the kitchen sink. I walk over to the middle of his back and then step off and get some items out of the refrigerator. I come back and step on his back again putting the items on the counter between the stove and the sink. He can feel my heels digging into his back and is having trouble breathing. I can hear him grunting beneath me, but I don”t care and continue to chop the vegetables and cutting the meat on the counter while standing on him.

I then get the pan and put it on the stove. I alternate between the sink, rinsing the dishes and vegetables, step onto his back as I am chopping them or putting them into a bowl and then stepping with both of my bare feet onto his head as I put the meat into the pan and stir it as it”s cooking. Every once in awhile, he feels a hot drop of grease fall onto his arm and it makes him jump.

As the meat cooks in the pan, I order him to turn over and face up, but remain laying on the floor. He turns over and I sit on his face. Every once in awhile I stand up and stir the meat, then sit back down on his face again, my dress flowing all around him, covering his head and half his body.

When I stand up to stir the meat, I stand on his face. As dinner is finished, I continue walking on him from his face as I”m at the stove, to his stomach as I”m at the counter putting the food onto the plates, then on his crotch as I put the dishes in the sink. I step off him, attach the leash to the collar and pull him up.

I pull him over in front of the couch and order him on his hands and knees. I put a stool in front of his face. I go back to the kitchen and get two plates of food and bring them back to the living room. I place one of the plates on the stool in front of him and say that he can eat. I place the other plate on his back, using him as the table and tell him that if he spills the food, he’s dead.

He eats his food slowly as he is afraid to move an inch for fear that the plate will fall. I turn the TV on and eat my dinner from his back, watching him eat his from the stool in front of him. Every once in awhile, I take a half chewed piece of meat from my mouth and drop it onto his plate and tell him to eat it. I laugh watching him eat my food.

When we are both finished eating, I kick back and put my feet on his back, relax and watch TV. When my dinner has settled and I”m done watching TV, I order him to take the dishes into the kitchen and wash them. I stand behind him watching his every move.

I then open the cabinet under the sink and point saying, “Get in.” He looks into the small crevice and looks back at me, incredulously. I grab the back of his head, bending him down and begin pushing him towards the small hole. He sits on the floor, bending at the waist and slides himself sideways into the opening. His head is pushed clear into his knees and his knees are brought in so far that his feet are almost touching his butt. I close the cabinet and he hears a locking sound on the other side of the door.

I leave him in there all night. In the morning, I pound on the outside of the door, scaring the shit out of him. I then unlock the padlock and help him out as he is very cramped and aching all over. He closes his eyes as the light is too bright. I tell him to lay down and I begin kicking his thighs. I say, “I”m helping your muscles to loosen up.” and laugh.

I stuff a white, plastic ball into his mouth and then wrap duct tape around his mouth and head. I order him to get up and make breakfast. When he turns around, he notices that all the food is laid out on the counter for him. First I say, “Oh wait. I forgot something.” I detach a pair of metal handcuffs from My belt that has a chain about a foot in length between the cuffs to his wrists and then say, “Ok, go ahead now.”

As he is cooking at the stove, I pull his shorts down and remove them. I then shove a plug into his ass and then tie him up in a harness around his hips, through his legs and butt and tie it off in the back. He is feeling very weak, a tad bit exposed and extremely humiliated.

When breakfast is ready, I tell him to take the plate and follow me. I sit down on the couch and order him to kneel in front of me with the plate and feed me. As he is putting bites of food into my mouth, I put my foot into his crotch and press down, increasing the pressure with each bite.

When breakfast is finished, I tell him to go get his plate of food and bring it to me. As he stands there with the plate in his hand, I brutally rip off the duct tape from his mouth. He screams in pain when it is removed and spits out the ball. When he hands me the plate, I put it on the floor and then step on the food with my bare foot, smashing it between my toes. I then unbutton my pants and slide them down my thighs. I squat over the plate and urinate all over his food. After standing up and buttoning my pants, I smile at him and say, “Ok, now it”s your turn to eat.”

I watch as he eats the nasty concoction before him. Every once in awhile, I put my foot into the plate and pick up a piece of food then order him to eat it from my foot. He obediently puts his mouth over my toes and sucks the food from them.

When he thinks he is done eating, I order him to lick the plate clean and make sure that no juice is left on the plate. When the plate is spotless, I get up, take the plate, set it to the side and grab him by the hair pulling him up. I push him to the side of the couch, get behind him and push him over the end of the couch. His butt is exposed to me.

I remove the waist harness and butt plug, only to replace it with the strap on. I fuck him with the strap on repeatedly till he is absolutely humiliated and I am extremely turned on. I decide that he is going to satisfy me once more before I get ready to go out. So after removing the strap on from inside him, I order him back on his knees facing me. I attach a mask to his face with a dildo protruding from it. I then take his handcuffs off and put his hands behind My back and handcuff them behind me with a pair of smaller cuffs.

I remove my pants and order him to fuck me with his face. As he enters me with the dildo attached to his face, I reach behind his head and grab a handful of hair and push him in and out of me. I continue to go faster and faster until his neck is very sore, but as I look down, I see his hard cock and give it a kick as I come to orgasm.

When I pull his head away and the dildo releases itself from my orgasmic grasp, I dress then release him from the mask. As I come back with his clothes from the bedroom, I also come back with a roll of ace bandage. I wrap his cock and balls into a sort of cast and then order him to get dressed. I put his jacket over the handcuffs and lead him out the door and into the jeep.

We drive to the store, get out of the car and he follows me into the store. He is walking around in handcuffs under the jacket, but no one seems to notice. Every once in awhile, I will stomp on his foot when no one is looking. When we have the items paid for and leave the store, I have him load the items in the trunk.

We drive back to the house and I have him unload the groceries from the car. He notices that I have bought some strange items, such as dog food, cat food, sardines, anchovies and other various things. He remembers that I have no cat or dog. When the items are put away, I lead him back to the living room where I unlock the handcuffs and order him to lay on his stomach.

When he is all stretched out on his stomach, I tie his hands and feet behind him and then tie them together at about his butt. I then strip, lay down in front of him and lift his head by the hair as I slide underneath him and then let his mouth rest against my clit. I lay back and enjoy the feeling as he slides his tongue inside my pussy then up my lips to my clit. I turn on the TV and watch TV as he licks.

When an hour has gone by, I ask if he is getting tired, he looks up at me, but says nothing and continues to lick. I am satisfied with that answer and leave him there.

i feel Your hand on my ass, then the applicator sliding into my hole, the water sliding into me. The cramping beginning, Your hand rubbing my tummy again, then my clit. i gasp!

The need to empty is so strong!!!! The water stops. “Let go of your cheeks alexslut.” i do… i whimper, “Master!”

You grab me, lift & turn me and sit me down on the toilet. i feel the pressure releasing as my bowels empty almost as soon as my legs touch the seat. i moan and whimper - still mortified that You are there witnessing this, yet so grateful to share this most intimate of moments with You. Surrendering even this privacy to You! After a few moments, You again get a damp clothe and pat my quivering hole with it. As You draw Your hand back between my legs, it slides between my spread cunt lips and against my clit - i gasp, “Master, god Master!!”

You lean forward and kiss me. Then You rinse another clothe and wipe my face.

Of a sudden i feel my tits tightening more… god! i’d forgotten them! Like You know exactly what i’m feeling, i watch, and feel, Your fingertips grazing over my throbbing nip tips beyond the rings swaying from them. Then You lean over and run Your tongue over my right nip, the ultra-sensitive one, and opening Your mouth to encompass the ring into it You close down behind where the ring holds my pink nip and bite down as You watch my face.

i whimper… then moan… then arch my back — offering my swollen tits to You. You take them, biting harder!!! i feel it in my clit… oooooohhhhhhhhhh . You release it and taking my hands, drawing me to my feet. You walk me into the bedroom, stopping me at the bench at the end of the bed. You grab pillows and tell me to get on the bench on my knees facing the headboard. You pile the pillows on the bench.

You lean forward, run Your tongue over my ear then bite the lobe. i tilt my head to the side to give You full access.

“Now,” You whisper next to my ear, “now, I take your slut ass and make it completely Mine. I promise you, little slut of Mine, You will never forget My cock in your ass, fucking you, claiming you, branding you as Mine. Forever.”

i feel the shiver flow through me that is Your words, “oh please, Master, please, take Your slut… use her ass for Your pleasure… stretch it… fill out…. ram it… then oh please oh god… please Master…………….. mark my insides with the heat of Your cum!!”

Your hands push me forward… “spread slut.”

i do. i spread my legs, and reach back to spread my cheeks wide for Your invasion and conquest of me. The one i have so anticipated. So dreaded. So longed for. So needed. So craved!

“Please Master… please now… put Your hard cock into me!!!!”

i hear the lid on the tube snap open as You squeeze lube on Your cock. Coating the huge head with it, then squeezing a dollop onto my ass hole and working it into my ass with 2 fingers.

“Thank You Master,” i am thankful that You thought of lube… i am so wracked up that i didn’t even think of it!

Suddenly, i feel the soft skin of Your hardness pressing against my dark hole. As much as i want this… need this… i still tense.

“Shush baby. Push out for Me. Help Me inside you”

i do as You say… don’t i always?! And as i push out i feel Your cockhead pressing into me, then popping inside my ring of muscle. You have me trained so well Master… i moan deeply at the feeling…. “ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Master… more please Master. i want all of Your fabulous huge cock inside my ass —” i press back toward You, feeling Your cock slipping into me, spreading me. It hurts, but oh Master…. “more please, give it all to me!”

i press back harder, opening my ass as much as i can… as You have trained me to do…. Flexing the muscle open as i press back.

i hear, i feel You moan, “god alexslut… you have accepted and practiced your training well My little cock slut”

“Master… yes … oh yes for You” i slide my hips forward, slightly, grasping Your cock tightly with my muscles. i am rewarded by Your gasping moan and the feeling of Your cock swelling more inside my ass, Your hands tightening on my hips.

Then, You began to fuck my ass… in and out. Slowly at first, then more quickly.. and i feel it… the beginning of my orgasm from Your ass fucking of Your slut.

i moan out, “Master!!!! God oh Master, may Your slut cum for You?!”

“No slut… not yet… hold it back!!”

“Master, please Master, my love!!! i’ve waited so long to feel the strength of Your cock fucking my ass. Master, am i pleasing You Master? Does this slut.. Your slut… please You?”

You moan out, “yes alexslut… you are much pleasing Your Master!!”

i feel Your cock swelling, impossibly bigger… impossibly huge. Filling me, taking all the space within me. Removing the space between us!!

“Master!!”

“Now My little pet slut! Now! Cum for Me as I fill Your ass with my cum!!”

i feel my body exploding around Your cock, my cum rushing out of my cunt, my cunt spasming… moaning, crying, “Master! Master! Thank You Master! Thank You Master!”

And i feel it… i feel Your cum splashing inside my body, i hear You roar “Mine! My slut!!”

i cry out… “Master… may…i … cum … again for YOU?!”

You moan into me, “Yes slut… cum again. Let Me feel your muscles milking My cock with your orgasm!”

i do… hard… arching up and back and squeezing and spreading around You… then into You… Then i collapse forward onto the bed and You come with me, wrapping Your arms around me pulling me tightly against Your chest to cuddle me.

“Mine!” You say.

“Mine!”

“Mine.”

i smile as i fall asleep pressing against You - Your cock still part of me. my soul Yours.

Yours.

Tags: Fetish, Story