The Submission of the Widow Cavendish

Part 5 - A True Masochist is Revealed

I went quickly to the wagon and grabbed the saddle bags, pausing for a moment to take a look at Mrs Cavendish from behind. She looked a little different than she had a while ago. She was still tied the same, but there was a cast to her shoulders, and her head was raised now, not slumped as before.

I walked back and placed the bags on the floor in her sight, opening the bags and pulling out items, placing them carefully on the floor.

'I spent some time in India in my past, where my interests in the female form in pain were awakened. As such, I purchased some things that I have kept with me since then, though I never found anyone to use them on.' I picked up some additional lengths of rope and crossed to stand next to Mrs Cavendish. 'I suspect this will never be an issue again.'

The first thing was to secure her to the rail, so she would not fall whilst I repositioned her legs and hands. This was done by using ropes I wrapped around her neck, the ends of which extended out both in front and behind her, which I tied off to the rail, using knots that I could easily pull on to increase the tension. I pulled on the front a little more than the back, and watched as Mrs Cavendish's hips rotated forwards, moving the contact point with the rail onto her most sensitive flesh, bringing an audible moan from her lips.

Her legs were next, the ropes to the legs that held her ankles untied, allowing me to bend her legs up and back, until I could tie her ankles to the rail. This left the pegs in the ground, and I used another pair of ropes from these to her knees, increasing the tension just enough to bury the rail deeper into her sweet cunt.

She was moaning again now, a long, low sound and I paused a moment before I tackled her arms. 'Reach into yourself. This pain is what you want, what you need. Ride it like you would a thoroughbred.'

She nodded, and she started to move her hips, rocking them forward and back, as she muttered 'Sweet Lord....' under her breath.

I moved quickly now, untying her arms and then retying them, wrist to opposite elbow, until the were folded behind her back just below her shoulder blades, pulling her shoulders back and bringing her rock-hard nipples in to even greater focus.

I grabbed a pair of metal objects from the items I had placed, and raised one so Mrs Cavendish could focus on it.

'Jewelry was also something I saw in India, Many women there had pierced ears, and even nostrils, so delicate gold chains could be strung from ear to nostril, looping under the cheek bones. It accentuated their beauty, and I may as well ask you to do the same.' I turned the metal object around in my fingers. 'This will accentuate the beauty of other things'

The object was a steel ring, with four threaded rods sticking out at ninety degrees from each other. I turned one of the rods, and I could see Mrs Cavendish's surprise as a sharp needle-like prong extended out towards the center of the space enclosed by the ring.

I reached for her right breast, placing the ring around her swollen nipple, and started to advance the rods, one by one, until each needle was pressing into, but not piercing that tender flesh. I looked up at her face, seeing her nostrils flare as the new sensations flooded through her.

I started on her left breast, until both nipples were adorned with steel. Mrs Cavendish was almost frantically riding the rail now, and I knew that I would pay any price to have this woman

I reached down with one hand, down to the now soaking fleece of her cunt. 'One final test, my slave...' I paused and she moaned as the import of that word hit home, 'one final test. You are now mine, body and soul. I want to hear you beg. I want to hear you beg me to hurt you, beg to allow you to spend...'.

'O....oh..sweet Jesus.... Please... Please... I nnnn....need you to hurt me.... Please....'

I reached with the other hand to one of the threaded rods.

'Ddddoo it! Do it....Mmmaster!

I gave the rod a sharp turn, and she exploded as the needle pierced her nipple. She tossed her head back, screaming incoherently, a gush of liquid soaking my hand and shirt cuff, as I continued to play with her button, whilst she writhed and undulated on the rail, driving herself to plateau after plateau, until, with fresh sweat streaming down her chest, she slumped forward as much as the ropes would let her.

-*-

The crowd of people in front of me whooped and hollered as the Widow Cavendish climbed up into the bed of the wagon, wheeled now into a clear space, where bidders could gather for the auction.

The auctioneer was a local slave trader, and well versed in what would get the best price, so he had her turn, to display her charms, describing her as a 'fine specimen rarely seen, a creature from the North, ready to be used as anyone would see fit'

This brought a barrage of cries 'I know how to use that n--- lover', 'Godamn, why not let us use her right now!'

I had eyes only for her form, glistening as if oiled by the oil of the coconut in the low slanting light of the evening. Truly a gem of exquisite beauty.

'Gentlemen, Gentlemen!' the auctioneer raised his hands for quiet. 'Once you have bought her, you may do as you please!' Even though she knew what was to happen, I still saw her shudder at those words.

Now, Gentlemen, who will start the bidding for this fine filly? Do I hear five hundred dollars?'

I smiled as the bidding went up, six hundred, seven, seven hundred and gifty, until only a pair of the richer men of the area were left, and even they stalled out at nine hundred and fifty dollars. All through this, I pushed my way through the crowd, until I was at the front of the crowd, a bag of clinking gold in my pocket.

' I hear nine fifty once.... I hear nine fifty twice...are there anymore bids Gentlemen....?

'One thousand dollars!' I tossed the bag at the auctioneer's feet, the bag opening just enough for the gleam of gold to be clear for all to see.

There was a moment of silence before the crowd erupted in oaths both mild and profane, almost drowning out the sound of the auctioneer... 'Sold for One Thousand Dollars!'

I looked up at the slave Cavendish, who was looking at me, a smile on her face.

The End.