An Unexpected Master, Part 2

One of the few good things about playing with Charles is that when he wakes up, he wants to get on with his day.  He doesn’t lay in bed or want to play with me for a while.  So as soon as he woke up, he unlocked all my restraints and let me go.  Thank goodness.

I got in the shower and cried for a while.  I felt so violated, not only from the torture that Charles had inflicted upon me, but also because I knew that, unknown to him, we were giving my Master, who I still didn’t know a thing about, a real show.  I was absolutely sure that, right now, an explicit video existed of me being bound, tortured, and fucked by Charles.  I could only hope it remained private.

My tits hurt horribly.  Not only did the nipples burn with the reminder that they had worn the talon clamps for about four hours, but the places where Charles had shocked me with the cattle prod also stung.  So did my pussy, again where I had been zapped, and also from both sets of clamps.  Any touch to my clit brought a sharp stab of pain.  There were significant marks on both parts of me.

I stayed in the shower until the hot water ran out.  Fuck Charles if he wanted some.  I needed to somehow try to clean myself up.  I felt so dirty, considering what had been happening to me over the last few weeks.

Part of me wasn’t surprised when I heard my phone ping with an email a minute after I came out of the bathroom.  I dreaded looking, but I knew I had to.  Refusing to see what was right in front of me was no answer.

The words were simple: “Great show last night.  You looked awesome.”  There were four pictures attached, as before, along with a short video clip.  There was one of me as Charles pulled me up off the bed, showing my breasts prominently.  Another was of me kneeling on the floor, with all the clamps on me.  The next depicted me walking back to the bedroom on my leash, and the last of me fucking Charles.  The video was also of me being fucked, and my cries were clearly audible.  Again, there was a new low for the most humiliating picture ever taken of me.

I heard nothing from my Master through the rest of the weekend.  It was if he wanted to let me rest.  I was thankful for that.

Monday came and we got back into our routine, including the parts Charles was unaware of now.  Returning from my ritual morning trip to the gym, I heard, my Master’s voice from the camera as I came into the bedroom from my shower.  “Present yourself.”

I got up on the bed and knelt as I was expected to do.  After the usual fifteen minutes or so of silence, my Master spoke again.  “Did you enjoy your night in chains?”  I could not lie.  “No, Master.”  The chuckle I got in response was pure evil.  “I didn’t expect you to.  But it is a good warm up for what may happen to you in the future.”  I didn’t like the sound of that.

After a few minutes silence, he spoke again.  “What are you?”  Not knowing what else to say, I said what I was thinking.  “I am your slave, Master.”  “Very good, my little slave.  I am looking forward to training you soon.”  Again, the long silence, with the eventual order to go about my day.

I was so glad I had not been ordered to masturbate.  I didn’t think I could have taken it.  My clit still hurt badly when she was touched.  I hoped for one more day to let her rest and restore.

Tuesday went by much the same way.  After a few minutes at the start of the day, where I simply presented myself and waited until I was dismissed, my Master showed no more interest in me.  I was still nude, of course, and I am sure he was watching, but I was left more or less free to go about my work.

Wednesday was the same.  Then Thursday also.  I was both wondering what was happening and dreading what would come next.  I knew there was no way he was going to just let me go like this forever.

I was right.  Friday started off the same, but quickly changed.  As I came home from the gym, I noticed an envelope on the front porch.  That couldn’t be good.  Retrieving it, I found it contained a door lock fob, like one used for businesses or newer apartments instead of a key.  It was quite small, and looked much like the one I had for those rare days I went into the office.  I wondered what it was for, at the same time fearing the answer.

The answer came when I presented myself to my Master a little while later.  “How do you feel, slave?”  I answered honestly.  “Much better, Master.”  “Good.  Get dressed.  Follow the instructions I send you.”  My email pinged a moment later.

Looking at my phone, the fear hit me full force.  The orders were simple.  Get dressed in bra, thong, jeans, a top, and heels.  Get in my car and drive to an address, bringing the fob.  Further instructions would be provided when I arrived.  The address was downtown, in an area that had lots of offices and apartments.  I didn’t recognize the exact place, but I knew it was a safe area.

Not knowing what else to do, I got dressed as instructed and headed for the car.  I put the fob on my keychain, knowing I wouldn’t lose it there and suspecting it would attract no attention from Charles.  I was guessing now that it would let me in to where I was going, but had not yet figured out where that was.

The drive into town took me about twenty minutes.  Traffic was light, being mid-morning.  I was careful not to use the GPS.  The last thing I needed was for Charles to drive my car, use the GPS, and wonder what was with the strange address.  But I knew the area well enough to find where I was told to go.

It turned out the address was an old brick building that had been renovated a few years ago and turned into high-end condos.  It had a lot of interesting points to it, including very thick interior walls and its own private parking area.  I guess correctly that the gate would open with the fob.  Pulling into the lot, I found a visitors space and parked to wait.  It only took a minute.

My email pinged for an incoming message.  All it contained was a number.  I knew what that had to mean.  Come inside the building and go to that condo.  I was long ago committed, so I got out of my car and walked to the door.

The fob also unlocked the door, and summoned the elevator.  Lots of security here, I noticed.  No obvious guards, but I wouldn’t bet against it.  Lots of cameras too.

The elevator deposited me on the proper floor.  I figured out the numbers pretty quickly and started down the hallway, my heels clicking on the floor.  I have to admit, I love that sound.  Inevitably it make people, men and women alike, look to see who it is clicking down the hall.

I found that the apartment I was looking for was at the end of the hall.  The door was nondescript; no nameplate or other decoration.  It was just a plain door with a number.  Like all the condos, it had a sensor for a key fob, so I set mine to the plate and heard the lock click open.

Pushing the door open, I immediately noticed something odd.  The door was very heavy.  As it came open, I saw why.  It was much thicker than I expected; not a typical apartment door at all.  The reason was not really apparent, although the wall also was thick.  I guessed it was made of brick with a covering, given how this building was built.

The apartment itself was somewhat strange too.  I was in the living room.  There was a white leather couch, several large stuffed chairs, and a TV.  The dining room to one side had a table and chairs in it, while the kitchen also had utensils, a refrigerator, and everything needed to cook.  But nothing looked lived in.

There were none of the signs that someone lived here.  No loose magazines, no jacket over a chair, no small items on the floor.  It was almost like this place was a museum.

Just then, the door fell shut behind me.  I heard the lock click into place.  And then I saw the differences with this condo.  First, sitting near the TV, was a row of four metal boxes.  All four stood open, almost like garbage cans.  They were about 18 inches square and a little deeper.  They had a pair of lights on the front, one red and one green.

The other thing out of place was the surveillance cameras.  They were on every wall, covering every corner of the apartment.  I realized I was being watched, and there was nowhere to hide.

Before I could think another thought, I heard my Master’s voice coming from several speakers.  “Welcome, Dawn.  I’m glad you made it.”  He paused for a moment, then continued, “Go over to the boxes, strip nude except for your jewelry and heels, and put it all in the box.”

I did as I was told.  There really wasn’t any choice.  I was not even certain the door would open for me to get out if I tried.  I took off all my clothes, put them in tan open box, and stepped back.  There was a beep, and the lid slowly shut on its own.  There was the click of a lock and the light turned red.  I knew my clothes were gone until my Master chose to give them back.

“Walk down the hallway.  There is a bedroom on the left with the door open.  Go inside.”  Again, I did as I had been commanded.  The hallway was a normal apartment hallway, except for the eye of the camera at the end.  It had four doors off of it, all but one of which were closed.  I walked to the open door.

Reaching the door, I saw there was a king sized bed inside with the end facing to the left.  It was fully made up, with pillows and a high quality comforter.  I thought it would be wonderful to sleep in, were circumstances different.  The blinds were closed on the far side to cover a full wall of windows.  The other three walls were all mirrors.  Someone standing in the door would be able to have a complete view of anyone in the bed.  It looked perfectly normal, except for the cameras, and the padded leather blindfold laying on a nightstand.  My Master spoke again.  “Get up on the bed and present yourself to the camera on the wall at the foot of the bed.”  I replied, “Yes, Master.”

Once I was in place, he soon spoke again.  “Put on the blindfold.”  I complied.  “Understand some very important things.  I think you already realize you cannot leave until I let you.  The door locks from both directions.  I can also lock you in this room if I want.  Your clothes are also locked in the box in the living room.  Most importantly, this apartment is completely soundproof with brick walls.  You can scream as loud as you possibly can or beat on the walls as hard as you can, and no one will ever hear you.  The windows are mirrored, so no one will see you either.  Do you understand?”  I replied, as always, “Yes, Master.”

Then came the instruction I suspected I would receive some form of: “Get on your hands and knees, facing the same way, head up, and your back straight.  Do not move no matter what happens.”

I had little choice.  I positioned myself as commanded.  I had an awful feeling that I knew what was going to come next.

It took about five minutes before I sensed a movement of the air.  There was no sound of a door, but I realized I was not alone in the condo.  I was terrified and barely holding myself together.

Suddenly, from the direction of the door, not more than a few feet, perhaps just inside, I heard my Master’s voice again.  “Well, Dawn.  I like what I see.”  He was there.  This wasn’t coming from a speaker.  He was standing right next to me, even though I could not see him.  He could see me there, on my hands and knees, my blonde hair laying on my back, my 34G breasts hanging beneath my body, my slim athletic legs holding me up, with my clear platform heels on my feet.  I knew I had to be an erotic sight, displayed nude before a man I had never seen.  I was both terrified and horrified to be in this position, but could not even move a muscle from the fear.

He was standing right in front of me.  I could feel his presence.  My fear was clear on my face.  It was all I could do not to tear the blindfold off and see who my tormentor really was, but that would require moving, something I could not do.  I did not recognize his voice, but that meant very little.  However, I realized that fighting back would only hurt me.  All I could do was submit.

I could feel my Master walking around the bed, inspecting me like an animal being purchased.  Suddenly, I felt his hand touch my face, brushing my blonde locks behind my ear.  Then his hand slid down my neck and reached my chest.  He wrapped it around my left breast as she hung beneath me.

Gently he squeezed her, then lifted her to feel her weight.  I heard a quiet chuckle as he gauged how big my breasts really are.  I forced myself to hold still as he moved his hand down my back, then between my legs to my pussy.  His finger penetrated between my lips and discovered that I was wet and ready, triggering another chuckle.

“Well, Dawn.  I see you are excited.  You know what I am going to do to you.  Tell me the truth.  Do you want me to fuck you?”  I thought for a moment, afraid of what would happen if I told the truth.  I finally decided that he asked for it.

I replied, “No, Master.  I don’t want this.  Please let me go.”  He chuckled again.  “Not going to happen, slave.  And that is what you are – my slave.  And I am going to enjoy my new property.”

With that, I started hearing the sounds of my Master undressing.  The sliding of bootlaces, the click of his belt buckle, and the rough sound of his shirt coming off over his head.  There was the release of his zipper, a clack as his pants fell, and a soft sound for his underwear.  My breathing got deeper and faster as I knew that in just a moment, I was going to be raped.

This was going to be a rape unlike any I had ever heard of.  Every woman thinks about what it would be like to be raped.  We think of them as violent episodes, where a man beats us into submission.  Or sometimes when we get drunk and someone takes advantage of us.  I never dreamed that I would literally take myself to the place I was going to be raped, and then hold still, like a rabbit caught by a snake, for my rapist to assault me.

But I did hold still.  A moment later, I felt the bed move as he climbed up onto it.  I felt the heat of his body as he moved between my legs.  And then, in an instant, there was what I was dreading – the pressure of his cock as he forced his way inside to take me as his slave, as his victim.

I cried out for a moment as his hands came down on my back, grasping me as my Master firmly pulled me back onto his cock, burying himself deep inside me.  He felt so huge, so hot, and so unwanted.  Even though my body was reacting to his presence inside of me, I was terrified in my mind.  I could tell he was bareback.  I could only hope he didn’t give me some disease.

He started stroking into me, hard.  There was none of the gentle start that Charles usually gave me.  From the beginning, he was making it clear that I was here for his pleasure, not my own.  There was no doubt that his intention was to come inside me in as brutal and impersonal a way as he could.  He was marking me as his slave.

Not knowing what else to do, I started fucking back against my Master.  I could tell he liked it.  I just wanted to get this over with.  My tits were swinging beneath me, slapping into each other.  I realized that my Master had kept his word.  Just as he promised when he had Charles fuck me from behind in front of the window two weeks ago, my Master was doing the exact same thing to me now.

Suddenly, he reached down and grabbed my wrists.  He pulled back, for a moment causing me to collapse forward, until he pulled my arms behind me.  Leaning back, my Master pulled my body completely off the bed, until I was held there in the same position as before, with my breasts hanging beneath me, but this time held up by the great strength of his arms.  I screamed as my shoulders took all my weight, and from the increased force of his cock slamming into me inside.

I forced myself back onto his cock as my dam burst and I orgasmed, screaming in pleasure, just as I felt the heat of him coming inside of me.  It felt like he had really put a load into me, hot and sticky.  I also immediately felt dirty and used.  My Master had ripped a part of my soul out of me and taken it as his trophy.

For the better part of a minute he held me there in the air, impaled on his cock, breasts and blonde hair hanging beneath me, all my weight pulled through my arms.  I was so humiliated that he had made me come like that, being raped.  I let my head hang in shame at what I had done.  He had made me his whore.  I started to cry.

Without warning, my Master let go of my arms, I fell straight down on my face, startling me.  He got up off the bed.  I could hear the sound of him doing something with his clothes.  Not knowing what else to do, I pushed myself back up onto my hands and knees.

He must have seen me move.  I felt him walk around to where my face was, at the end of the bed.  I could sense he stood in front of me.  My Master spoke a single word: “Open.”  Realizing what he meant, I opened my mouth.

A moment later, I felt his wet cock in my mouth.  He had come on him, as well as my own juices.  I had never tasted myself before.  I didn’t like it at all.  Understanding what he wanted, I obediently cleaned his cock off with my mouth and tongue, being extra careful not to touch him with my teeth.  I did not want to risk what likely would have been a very painful reaction from my Master.

After a minute or so, he chuckled again and said, “Good slave.”  I stopped and he withdrew.  I stayed where I was while my Master got dressed.  It only took him a minute or so, then he walked to the door.

“You will come here whenever I call.  This was just a taster of what you can expect.  I know you liked being fucked today.  Remember tonight, when your husband fucks you, that you already have my come inside you.”  With that, he walked out of the room.

I knelt there on all fours, crying into the blindfold.  I didn’t know if I could move, if I could leave, anything.  I was terrified.  After a few minutes, again without hearing the door or anything else, my Master’s voice came from the speakers again.  “Take off the blindfold, get up, clean yourself up in the bathroom, and go to the living room.  Your clothes bin is open.  You may dress and go.  Your fob will open the door.”

I got off my hands and knees and sat there for I don’t know how long, crying.  It hurt being raped like that.  Not the way you might think, with physical pain like when Charles tortured me a week ago, but deep inside me, as I realized I had lost even more of what little dignity I had left. 

When I walked in the front room, the can my clothes wee in was standing open with the green light on.  I got dressed and walked to the door.  As my Master had promised, the pad by the door opened the lock when I presented the fob he had sent me.  I got the hell out of there as quickly as I could and headed home.

Fortunately, when I arrived, it was only about half an hour before Charles was due to come home, so I didn’t have to strip.  But I did hear one thing from my Master over the speakers before Charles arrived.  It was simple:  “Be sure to fuck him good tonight, and think about the fact I already fucked you today.”  I collapsed on the floor, crying some more.

I did.  Later that night, I got Charles to put me on the bed on my back, with my legs up in the air while he fucked me, as he stood by the bed.  It made my tits bounce hard, up and down my chest.  He pounded me so hard I was screaming.  I am sure my Master was watching.  But all the time, I was dying inside.  Charles had no idea I had been raped early in the day.  He didn’t understand in the slightest that he has sloppy seconds tonight.  I was so humiliated that I was whoring myself again.

As seemed to have become the habit, I heard nothing more from my Master through the weekend.  It was not until Monday morning that his voice appeared.  As soon as I got out of the shower, he spoke.  “Go to the apartment.  Wear whatever you like with your heels.

I didn’t want to fuck him again.  But I had no choice.  Resistance would only make things worse.  I decided to do this right.  I put on black leggings, a sweater, and my heels.  Heading for the car, I wondered about the GPS.  If Charles looked at where I was going, I might have some explaining to do.  Sitting in the driveway for a few minutes, I discovered the setting that shut off the feature showing prior tracks and then erased the memory.  Hopefully that would end the problem.

I considered myself fortunate, when I reached the condo building, that neither time I had been here had I seen anyone.  It was mid-morning, and most people were going about their business.  I also didn’t have to dress in some publicly embarrassing way either.  I looked like a normal woman in that area, even though, as a slave, I did not feel normal at all.

Arriving at the apartment door, I wondered what I would find inside this time.  My mind was running in overdrive, creating fear for me, imagining what was going to happen.  I knew my Master was into BDSM, having forced me into a situation where Charles could torture me, and I feared that the most.  I hated pain, at least the kind of pain inflicted on a woman for a man’s pleasure.

I opened the door and stepped inside.  Like the first time, the condo appeared deserted.  But, I remember how my Master appeared without warning, and there were several closed doors.  I knew better to attempt to open them, however.

As the hall door closed behind me, I heard the lock snap into place.  I wasn’t going anywhere.  A moment later, my Master’s voice came from the speakers.  “Lose everything but the jewelry and heels.”  Taking my cue, I got undressed as quickly as I could, putting it all in one of the boxes.  When I stepped back, the lid slowly closed, the lock clicked, and the red light came on.

“Go to the bedroom and lie down on the bed.”  That was unexpected.  No command for the blindfold this time.  Perhaps I might get to see my Master at last.  When I got there, I laid down on the bed, on my back with my head on the pillows.  As soon as I got in position, the bedroom door closed on its own.  I heard the lock click when the door was fully shut.  That did not make me feel good.

I had to admit, the bed was comfortable.  I loved the satin cover of the comforter.  The pillows were huge and a firm down, and the mattress had a thick pillow top, so much so I was super relaxed as I lay there, nude.  I could almost forget that I was not here of my own free will.

I wasn’t sure how long I laid there quietly.  Suddenly, I heard the lock click on the bedroom door.  It didn’t open, but for a moment, I thought I heard a voice in the main room.  I didn’t dare move.  I just lay there and waited.

There was a few moments of silence, then the door swung towards me.  I nearly had a heart attack when I realized that standing in the door was another woman.  She was about my age, well-built, had long red hair, and made a pretty face.  More importantly, she was also nude, wearing nothing more than jewelry and a set of 8 inch black and gold platform heels.

I must have laid there staring at her for at least ten seconds of silence, not knowing what to do.  She did not speak either, but my Master did.  “Annmarie, this is Dawn.  Teach her.”  The woman answered, just as I would have, “Yes, Master.”

I lay there in fear.  Who was this woman?  Was she a slave?  Her use of the word “Master” suggested that, but I didn’t know for sure.  Why was she nude?  Why was she here?  What was happening?  The questions drowned me.

Annmarie, as I now knew she was, walked over to the bed as I sat up, nervously.  I looked her over as she approached.  She had beautiful white skin that made her red hair, which hung halfway down here back look almost on fire.  Her eyes were a deep green that I found exciting.  She was slim and athletic, like me.  Her breasts were not as big, probably 36DD or so, but still plenty big.  Her pussy was shaved clean, again, just like mine.  Annmarie looked comfortable as she sat down on the end of the bed, looking at me, although I could see, deep in her eyes, a hint of sadness, as if she was sorry about what was happening.

“Dawn, as our Master said, I am Annmarie.  Before you ask, yes, I am a slave like you.  I have another life, also like you.  Don’t say a word.  Let me explain the rules before you get us both in trouble by blurting something out, ok?”  Not trusting myself to speak, I simply nodded my head.

“You aren’t allowed to ask me about who I am, what I do, where I live, what my full name is, or anything else.  Don’t tell me anything like that about yourself either.  Don’t ask me how many of us there are.  I can’t tell you.  All I know is that there are several of us.  Don’t ask me who our Master is.  Just like you, I have never seen him as far as I know.  And don’t ask me what I have done with or for our Master.  Other than what I am supposed to teach you, I can’t tell you.  OK so far?”  Again, I nodded my head.

“I am allowed to tell you one thing.  Do you see the door across the hall?”  Once more, I nodded.  “If you misbehave, the Master will take you in there.  You don’t want to go in there.  That’s his torture chamber.  Understand?”  Terrified now, I nodded again.

She smiled.  “Don’t worry.  I’m never going to hurt you.  I’m in the same trap you are.  The best thing we can do is try to be happy, all right?”  Trying to put a good face on the situation, quite literally, I did my best to smile.  Her eyes softened some more, and now the questioning began.

“Tell me, Dawn, and this is important, have you ever had sex with another woman before?”  I am sure I turned beet red.  My old boyfriend, who had really gotten me into this mess, had convinced me one night to hook up with another woman.  She was a skank, I didn’t remember anything because I was drunk, and I hated it so much that I vowed afterwards never to do that again.  But I suspected my Master knew that, so I decided to tell the truth.  “Yes, I have, sort of.  And I hated it.”

Annmarie’s face became a little sad.  “I am sorry about that.  I’m sorry I have to do this to you.  But our Master wants you to be bisexual, so I am going to teach you how to pleasure a woman and be pleasured by her.  I was taught the same way by one of our Master’s other slaves, and like you, I didn’t want to do this.  But I learned how, because I don’t want a trip across the hall.  And understand, if you don’t learn, we both go across the hall.  I don’t have a choice, and neither do you.  So let’s try to enjoy it, all right?” 

Her matter-of-fact tone was frightening.  Here was a woman who was beautiful, in some circles more beautiful than me, who had been trapped like me and, like me, had been turned into an involuntary lesbian.  Well, bisexual I guess is the more accurate word, but that really made no difference.  She had sex with other women, not because she wanted to, not because she enjoyed it, but because she had no choice – because a man we had never seen commanded her to do so.

With that, Annmarie crawled up the bed beside me and snuggled up against me as I laid back down on the pillows.  I turned on my side so I could see her.  For a few moments, she lay there looking into my eyes, then she leaned forward and kissed me on the lips.   

She was soft and warm.  I resisted, even though she was gentle with me.  I didn’t want this.  I’m not a lesbian, bisexual, whatever.  I don’t care about who is, but that isn’t me.  But as I felt her tongue slip past my lips, I also felt my resolve weakening.  Deep inside I knew that, unlike the last time where my jerk of a boyfriend was pressuring me, but had no real power, this time, I had no choice.  I didn’t know Annmarie yet, and maybe wouldn’t ever know her well, but I didn’t want to hurt her either.

Annmarie put her right hand on my left breast, her fingers spread wide.  She gently squeezed, enough to make me warmer.  She started kneading the flesh, bringing an unusual, but interesting, sensation to my body.  No man had ever touched me like that, so gentle, yet commanding.

A fell backward as we broke the kiss, rolling onto my back.  Annmarie let me go for a moment, then moved her head so she could reach my right breast.  She went straight for the nipple, sucking it into her mouth.  She swirled her tongue around it, making the most wonderful feeling.  My resistance to having sex with another woman was collapsing fast.

Annmarie’s right hand locked itself over my left breast again, this time trapping my other nipple between her thumb and forefinger.  Unlike a cold, uncaring clamp, she gently manipulated me, making my nipple incredibly hard.  My breath started coming faster and heavier as I lay there, immersed in the sensation.

She released both my breasts, then moved her head to my left breast as her hands started sliding down my nude body.  She was exploring every hollow, every curve, as her tongue caressed my other nipple.  After a few moments, Annmarie slid her leg over me, then climbed up atop me, her head between my breasts.

Her tongue traced a path down across my body.  I knew where Annmarie was going.  Somehow, I didn’t want her to stop.  It felt so good to have her on top of me, her heavy breasts sliding along me, then falling between my legs.  As her head made it there, I reached up and put my hands on her head, feeling her silky tresses, excited by what I knew was coming next.

The touch of Annmarie’s tongue to the top of my pussy made me take a deep breath.  As I looked down, I could barely see her head behind the large swells of my 34G breasts.  Her attentions had my nipples standing up straight and hard, begging for more.  Annmarie looked up for a moment, saw me watching, and extended her hands back up to my tits, grasping both nipples to work them between her fingers some more.  I dropped my head back onto the pillow just as the tip of her tongue touched my clit at last.

I’ve had guys go down on me a few times, but it was nothing like this.  She felt SO GOOD, so perfect.  Annmarie knew right how to touch me, how to excite me.  Her hands kept working my nipples at the same time, harder and faster, matching pace with her tongue.  My breathing sped up and got even deeper.  I felt my head falling deeper into the pillows, their sides collapsing in front of my face.  I couldn’t see a thing now.  All I could do was feel.

It was so different from the terror and pain I felt just a few days ago when Charles was torturing me.  Even though I was almost as blind now as I was then, this was the complete opposite.  I felt like I had someone here who cared about nothing except my pleasure.

Suddenly, Annmarie sped up her lapping at my clit.  In seconds, my back was arching, and then I came with a scream that was so different from my normal sounds.  I couldn’t believe another woman had done this to me, made me come so hard.  As I fell back down onto the bed, I was shocked at my own reactions.  I never believed that I could enjoy being with another woman, but here I was, loving it.

After a moment, Annmarie slid off me and laid back down beside me, her arms wrapped around me, looking into my eyes.  Her emerald green gems seemed to look deep inside me, still with a hint of sadness, like she was ashamed of what she had just done.  I think she knew how much I liked how she had made me feel and wished she had not been forced into it.

I finally spoke: “Do you want me…”  My voice trailed off, as I didn’t know what to say.  I had almost forgotten where I was and why I was here, but her words brought reality crashing down around me.  “You have to.  He won’t let us out until you make me come, and you have to use your tongue.”

I was horrified.  I realized that this was going to be a two-way relationship.  I didn’t know if I could.  I lay there for several minutes, in silence, looking at Annmarie and trying to picture myself pleasuring her.  It frightened me even more.

Annmarie must have known we needed to get moving soon, because she put one of her hands behind my head and pulled me toward her breasts as she lay on her side next to me.  Not knowing what else to do, I took her right nipple into my mouth and sucked on it.  It felt strange.  I really didn’t know what to do.  I hadn’t been this inept since my first time with a man.

Annmarie put her hands on my shoulders, gently trying to encourage me to move down to her pussy.  I figured out that this was what I had to do, but I couldn’t do it.  She applied a little more pressure, but I wouldn’t move.  I was afraid of what was going to happen if I didn’t, but I just couldn’t make it happen.

After a minute or so of silence, I heard our Master’s voice from the speakers.  “Put them on her.”  Annmarie looked at me, clearly scared, sad, and disturbed at what she had to do.  Finally she said, “Yes, Master,” as she sat up.  I couldn’t see what she did, but I heard a drawer open in the far nightstand.

When she came back where I could see her, Annmarie had in her hands what looked like two strange leather belt pairs.  I realized they were restraints of some kind.  She looked at me and said, “I’m sorry I have to do this to you.  If it makes you feel any better, my first girlfriend had to use these on me my first time too.”

With that, she got down by my legs and started to hook one of the belts around my left thigh.  I realized after a moment what they were.  The larger belt went around my leg, while the smaller belt attached to it was going to go around my wrist.  When buckled, they would pin my arms to my sides.

I thought for a moment of trying to fight her off, but I decided there was nothing I could do.  I was locked in a room, inside a locked apartment, with a sort of bisexual woman who was about to force herself on me because a man who had enslaved us both ordered her to do so.  How could I fight my way out of that, especially considering all I had was a pair of heels?  The only option was to submit.

When she had my arms securely bound to my legs, I laid on the bed and tried not to cry.  I didn’t know exactly what was going to happen next, but it was fairly clear I was going to be forced to perform oral sex on Annmarie.  I didn’t want to be a lesbian, and if I did this, I knew I would be one for the rest of my life.  Another part of my dignity was about to be ripped out of my soul forever.

Still with that sad look on her face, Annmarie said to me, “Please just go with it.  I will be gentle.  But you have to do this.”  With that, she slid up to straddle me, then moved forward until she had her pussy right over my face.  Gently she lowered herself down on top of my mouth, so I had no choice but to do what she wanted me to do.

I finally broke and started to cry.  It made no difference.  She slowly pushed herself more firmly down onto me until I had no choice.  I tentatively put my tongue out and started to lap at her clit, which was literally right there.  I was so disgusted with myself that I was doing this, but couldn’t figure out a way to get out of this.

Something must have been going right, because Annmarie started grinding on me.  I could tell she was getting excited from my attentions to her.  I didn’t like this at all.  But I tried to get her to come, just to get it over with.  I laid there, struggling a little bit, but mostly flicking my tongue against her clit.  I don’t think I was very good at it, but I admit that Annmarie did her best to be persuasive to our Master.  She was moaning and grinding, and I do think I was making an impact on her.  But I clearly was unenthusiastic about what I was doing.

Finally, after a few minutes, Annmarie finally orgasmed on my face.  It wasn’t a fake.  I would have known that.  A woman can tell when another woman is faking it.  But it also wasn’t the best one she had ever had, to say the least.  Probably in the bottom third.  I honestly felt badly for her, because she had done so good for me.

She gave it a moment, then got up off me and laid down next to me.  I started crying again.  I didn’t want any of this.  I didn’t want to have sex with other women.  I didn’t want to be a slave.  I didn’t want to be abused.  But it was all happening to me, and I couldn’t escape.  I never realized things like this could happen today, but now I was living it.

Our Master apparently was displeased with us – really me, but he held Annmarie responsible too.  “Annmarie, I am disappointed.  I thought you knew better, after what you went through your first time.  You must do better next time, or there will be more severe punishment than you already will receive.  Go out and get dressed.”  She replied, as required, “Yes, Master.”

Annmarie looked and me and quietly said, “I don’t blame you.  I resisted at first, too.  But you have to do this.  Please learn quickly, for both of our sakes.  See you soon.”  With that, she got up and walked to the door.  The lock clicked, allowing Annmarie to pull the door open.  She looked back over her shoulder at me once, with that sad smile, and then let the door close, cutting her off from me.

I could barely hear some sound from the front room, but nothing distinct enough to matter.  After several minutes of laying there, my Master spoke again.  “Dawn, I am very disappointed in your failure to perform today.  This will require punishment.  You should also know that you have caused Annmarie to be punished, and her punishment will be as painful as yours.  If you ever fail me again, I will see to it that you will suffer at my hand, and worse yet, be forced to watch me torture her for your failure.”

I was terrified.  What was I supposed to do?  Completely change my life?  I don’t want to be bisexual.  But it seemed I had no choice.  All I could do was say, “Yes, Master.”

“Tonight, when your husband gets home, you will beg him to fuck you in the ass while you are bound, and to beat you on your breasts with the cane.  Now, get up, get dressed, and leave.”  Again, all I could say was, “Yes, Master.”

I got up and left the bedroom.  There was no sign of Annmarie either in the apartment or when I went outside.  It was as if she had never been there.  I got dressed, got in my car, and went home.

Again, it wasn’t too long before Charles was expected home, so I didn’t have to strip myself nude again.  I just sat there, trying not to cry, thinking about how I was going to handle this tonight.  He rarely wanted to play on a Monday night, but there were exceptions.  I finally decided on the direct approach.  If I had asked him nicely, he might have asked me to wait to Friday.  I couldn’t risk that.

When dinner was over, I went back to the bedroom without saying anything to Charles.  I got out the steel and leather cuffs, the suspension cuffs, my blindfold, the mouthguard gad, my collar, the spreader bar, the chained clover clamps, the “C” clamps, the cane, and the lube.  I got undressed, but this time put on my silver sequined booties with the 8 inch platform heels, for some variety.

Sat down on the edge of the bed and put the steel and leather cuffs on my ankles, then the suspension cuffs on my wrists.  I had a bad feeling I might end up hanging from my arms before the night was over.  Charles had several years before had put an electric winch in the attic over our bedroom, which could drop its shackle down through a hole he put in that had a cover over it like a fire sprinkler in an office.  I got the controller out and lowered the winch until the shackle was at the point I needed it overhead.

I carefully took the “C” clamps and put both of them on my pussy, holding both my outer lips together, one clamp in front and another clamp in the middle.  That ought to make it clear that I didn’t want fucked that way, especially with the lube being prominent.  Charles had this really neat silicon lube that worked much better than KY, thank goodness.  I am so tight in my ass that it hurts enough with the best lube there is on the market.

The collar was locked around my neck, then locked the spreader bar to my left ankle cuff.  I put the clover clamps on my nipples, trying not to cry out from the pain.  The cane was clipped to the front ring of my collar, hanging between my breasts.  I took the blindfold and, holding the loose end of the spreader bar, carefully walked over to the shackle hanging from the ceiling, trying not to let the clamps swing any more than I had to.

When I got there, I put the blindfold on the top of my head so I wouldn’t lose it, then gently bent over and locked the other end of the spreader bar in place.  I put the gag in my mouth and tightened it down, then pulled the blindfold down over my eyes.  Finally, I reached up and found the shackle.  It had a one-way hook on it, with a safety gate.  I could force the rings of the suspension cuffs onto it, but not back off it.  It took me a few tries in the dark, but I finally got both cuffs in place.  I was now hanging from the ceiling.

Being gagged, I had no way to call for Charles.  All I could do was wait for him.  He used to do this to me, back before I had been unfaithful to him, just like this.  That was why I had clipped the cane where I had.  He would chain me from the ceiling, then clip the cane in place where he intended to whip me.  Hanging from the back of the collar meant my back.  From the back of the belly chain meant my ass, while the front meant my pussy.  If he hung it from the front of my collar, as I had tonight, he was going to beat me on my tits.  Back then they were smaller.  I was terrified of what a beating on enhanced 34Gs was going to be like.

I couldn’t believe I was about to be sexually tortured by my husband for the pleasure of my mysterious Master.  Moreover, Charles didn’t even know what he was doing.  He thought I wanted this.  The complexity of the situation was mind boggling, while the realization of what I had gotten myself into, over a single photograph, was enough to make me want to die.  I had enslaved myself, made myself a torture toy, and now was being forced to become bisexual.  I had lost control of my life.

As luck would have it, Charles didn’t realize I wasn’t around for at least an hour.  He probably was reading.  When he got into a book, he lost all track of everything.  It took him over an hour to realize that he hadn’t seen me in a while and come looking for me.

I heard him coming down the hallway, then turn the corner into our bedroom.  He stopped in the door, looking at me hanging from the ceiling, nude, spread, and clamped, with the cane hanging between my massive breasts.  I think he was surprised to see me there.

“Well, not what I expected.  I see what you want, and I am happy to oblige you.  I can’t wait to see what happens when your new tits are beaten.”  I wished I could tell him that I didn’t want to see it at all.

To my horror, the next sound I heard was the series of beeps the digital camera makes when it comes on.  He doesn’t really go for using his phone to record things he cares about.  Instead, he keeps a good digital camera around to take those pictures.  I guess I was going to get to see what happened after all.  Of course, since I was hanging in full view of the bedroom spy camera, I knew my Master was recording this too.  Once again, the record for my most humiliating photos was up for grabs.

Once Charles had the camera ready, he reached for the cane.  I felt him pick it off my chest, then unclip it from my collar.  Of course, it was under the chain of the clover clamps, so he had to take the opportunity to pull on the chain, causing a flashbulb to go off in my head from the pain of my nipples being pulled and crushed, as well as a scream to be heard behind my gag.

I could hear Charles step back and adjust himself.  After a few moments of silence, there was suddenly the “swish” of the cane slicing through the air before I felt the burning pain of the cane on both my tits at once.  They bounced as I screamed into the gag.  I knew Charles had put a lot into it, but that strike wasn’t as hard others he had given me in the past.

After a few seconds of silence, I heard the sound again just before he struck again.  He put a little more into this one, and the pain was unbelievable.  I didn’t know what was happening.  My scream was even stronger this time.

Charles took a few extra seconds this time before the next swing.  I knew what that meant.  When that one came, it was as hard as he could muster, putting all his strength and weight behind it.  He hit me so hard that I fell off my feet and hung from my arms.  At the same time, I let out a howl that sounded more like it came from an animal than a person.  I couldn’t believe being beaten on my breasts hurt so much more now than it used to.

I couldn’t tell you which breast he hit, or both maybe, or where on them he hit.  It just hurt so incredibly bad.  My agony was far beyond anything that had ever happened to me when beaten before.  What was going on here?

Since I had fallen, Charles took the opportunity to hoist me fully up.  By that I mean he used the winch to raise me up, then some distance further up, so my feet were well off the floor.  He loved to do this.  I knew the sensation of my own weight hanging from my arms, making my shoulders feel like they were going to dislocate.  The pain became even more, causing me to start a low keening sound through my gag, like an animal in pain, which I guess was what I was.

The next hit with the cane caused me to throw my head back and wail some more.  I was starting to grey out, it hurt so much.  This beating created a mixture of sharp pain when Charles hit me, followed by a deeper, intense pain in my chest a moment later, which grew more intense with every strike.

At the fifth stroke of the cane, I felt like I was about to pass out.  I started a continuous scream, again and again, pausing only to breathe.  I must have screamed four or five times in a row, as loud as I could with that hateful mouthguard gag.  I was starting to fear that I was going to die here.

Somehow in that stroke, I realized after a moment that the clover clamps had come off.  I had no idea whether they fell off, they were hit off by the cane, or if Charles took them off.  I couldn’t even feel the usual sharp pain from the blood coming back into my nipples because the rest of my tits hurt so much.

I think Charles finally caught on after that last extended set of screams that he probably should stop.  Or maybe his arm just was tired.  I don’t know, but he stopped.  I guess that’s all that matters.  I hung there from my wrists, still in the dark of my blindfold, waiting for what would happen next.

As I hung there in my bonds, I realized what the problem was.  As I said, it hurt so much more now with my implants than it had when I was all natural.  Of course it would.  I had 600cc of saline inside them now.  Saline – salt water – will not compress.  So unlike before, when my breasts had the ability to “squish” under the cane, now they won’t.  The saline pressed – hard – against the capsules of flesh they were in.  No wonder it hurt so much.  I wonder if my Master knew that.  I suspect he did.

I realized after a moment that I could hear Charles undressing.  That was followed by the winch coming back down until my feet were on the floor again, taking the pressure off my wrists and shoulders.  If you have never hung like that, you have no idea how much pain it causes.  I have done that many times before, but it had been a long time.  I had a bad feeling though that this was not the last time I would hang like that, probably for a lot longer.

Charles let the winch down a little more, enough that he could bend me over slightly.  A little pressure on my upper back convinced me to do just that.  A moment later, I heard the click of the plastic cap on the lube bottle as it opened, then another as it closed.  I knew what was coming next.

He put his hands on my ass as I hung there, pulling me back towards him a little bit.  I tried to relax as much as I could, especially after such a savage beating.  If I couldn’t, the next part of this was going to hurt even worse.

It was just a moment before I felt Charles cock pushing on my asshole.  I really hated having anal sex with him.  I had never been fucked in the ass before I met my boyfriend.  He had been so gentle and made me love being fucked that way.  We called it “my secret desire”.  I could come from being fucked in my ass alone by Jimmy.  It was my favorite way to have my old boyfriend fuck me, but not Charles.  This was the last refuge, the last memory I had from that wonderful time, and I would never accept that Charles could use his cock in my ass even half as well.  I would come from being fucked in the ass by my boyfriend, but never by Charles.

I think Charles knew all of that.  I think he knew I tried to keep him out of my ass because that is what Jimmy and I had together.  He had tried a few times to do it right, but it never worked out.  Now, when he fucked me in the ass, I think he did it to punish me.  Tonight he certainly would.

Charles forced his cock into my ass, breaching through my ring.  It hurt like hell, even though he had used lube.  The pain was excruciating.  He really did go slow, at least at first.  But so often like he always did, he sped up too fast, crushing my rectum.  I was sure he was going to tear something.

I think, deep inside, Charles looks at fucking my ass as a hatefucking.  I think he knows it hurts me, and so he speeds up to make me hurt.  I started crying has he stroked into me, harder and faster.  My tits were swinging hard beneath me, slapping together.  I know how much Charles likes that too.  I bet my Master loved watching this.

Fortunately for me, when he does fuck me in the ass, Charles comes much more quickly.  Tonight was no exception.  Within a few minutes, most of which I spent screaming into my gag as he pounded me, he finally came inside me, spewing his come.  I, of course, received no release this time.

I had a bad feeling of what was going to happen next, and unfortunately for me, I was right in my guess.  Charles stepped back, sliding out of me and letting go.  Still bound nude, blindfolded, and gagged, hanging from the ceiling, he left me there.  I heard him leave the room.  He had done this before, leaving me hanging from the ceiling for quite a while afterwards. 

I knew he would be back, but it still hurt to be left here, hanging as a slave.  What was worse, I knew that my Master was watching me take my punishment for my failure at the apartment.  I realized I had brought this on myself.  I was hanging here, in pain, because I had failed my Master.  I hadn’t done what he wanted of me.  Even though I didn’t want to be bisexual, I didn’t want this either.  I really was sorry for failing my Master.

To be continued…