Part Seven
Chapter One
A short limo ride up through a couple of the Keys, the shadowy drive onto the estate’s guarded grounds; the sadomasochistic evening begins once they enter the stereotypical southern style mansion. From luxurious surroundings to harsh, the select group once assembled enters the chamber in utter silence, just as expected of them. Four women shackled along the far wall, worn and tattered burlap sack cloth making up their only garments, he realizes that with just a little cleanup they’d appear none the worse for wear, at least for the moment. Each with a wrought iron neck collar with its dull chain attached to their matching wrist cuffs in front of them, they stand or kneel barefoot on the redbrick floor. A setting out of the medieval era, torch mimicked lighting on the walls, various torture devices, only the modern day studio equipment off to the side contrasts with the background’s theme.
Glancing toward the women, he focuses from one to the other beginning right to left as his group slowly passes by in single file. The first dark complexioned, her short cropped hair evenly trimmed, the sack can barely conceal her breasts, hips as the tattered cloth leaves little to the imagination. Not so large breasts, not so slender hips, her face even under the torchlight appears on the cute, even attractive side.
The next appearing to be the youngest, a breast actually fully exposed jaunting firmly outward between her shackled arms; the nipple appears bruised as does the sides of both her thighs. Blond hair twisted in a knotted ponytail hanging across a shoulder, her eyes are the widest, the pupils a dull bluish-green. Actually quite pretty, her complexion fair, she also appears the most nervous as she crouches on a knee with her face tilted downward toward the disheveled sack that she seems to be trying to hold together.
The third appearing the oldest, maybe pushing late twenties, possibly thirty, her auburn hair not quite actually red, her pale skin also seems heavily covered with light freckles. Possibly the best proportioned body of the group, her breasts pressing the burlap out enough for the tattered cloth to hang straight down across her stomach, her long legs could be considered elegant, the calves sleek as she stands upright, almost defiant with a piercing stare of her brilliant blue eyes.
The forth and final shackled woman’s naturally jet black hair, her face appearing not quite Asian, not quite European, her dark looks’ near exotic as her breasts jaunt widely apart beneath the torn cloth, the globular mounds the largest of the group with the puffy silhouettes of her thick nipples protruding against the burlap. Her hips very possibly the smallest of the foursome, her olive toned skin shimmering as her dark, dark eyes appear somewhat blank, she seems somewhat subdued while gazing back down from the group.
It’s obvious to him as the group steps past the unfortunate collection toward another doorway all the women have something in common; all appear attractive and like they’ve just recently been forced into the tattered sack remnants.
A second room, basically stark and foreboding, one woman, totally naked and spread-eagled on a podium near the center of the floor with a bright red ball gag forced deeply between her yawning lips; she’s apparently the initial offering for the evening as the door shuts behind them. Obviously body waxed and oiled with hair slicked back, appearing to be in her mid twenties, the ropes burrow into her wrists, ankles as she tiptoes from one foot to the other, rasps for breath. The group allowed to position themselves around the podium in prearranged stools; he takes in her overall look of helplessness, fear, humiliation as her eyes dart toward the ceiling, the creaking ropes tautly stretching down to her wrists from a couple of the swaying pulleys.
His sponsor setting down beside him, sensing his excitement, the lights begin to dim around the room. Looking up toward her naked body now lit from a singular light from above, the shadowy contours of her glistening form seems so erotic as her stomach hollows with each rasping breath. Mostly silence until footsteps from behind, in a matter of moments the hulking, hooded figure in an all black robe makes his way toward the stage.
A couple steps up to the platform in the deathly quiet room, positioning himself beside the suddenly wild-eyed woman as she struggles to twist, turn away in her restraints, the sleeve draws back on his muscular arm as he raises a hand, backhands, forehands her across one cheek, the other. The echoing ‘smacks’ of open fist slapping her contorting face not once but twice in rapid succession, her corresponding grunts through the glistening ball-gag, he steps further behind her, reaches around her ribcage and grips a bare breast. Harsher grunts from her stretched lips while his fingers clench, twist the firm flesh of the globular mound, her nipple grotesquely swells between his thumb and forefinger as his fingernails dig in.
His free hand sliding around from her other side, reaching up, cupping and tugging at that glistening mound, her naked body defensively arches as her neck cranes back. More screeches, her body flexing, contorting as his fingers twist, obviously painfully burrow into her flesh, the discoloring mounds stretching outward in his grip, it’s also obvious his filed fingernails are more then just scrapping but drawing speckles of blood.
One hand dropping away, quickly clenching into a tight fist, a resounding ‘smack’ draws a muffled yelp from the gag as her breast jerks, bounces under the blow of a harsh uppercut. The other hand slipping away with it to forming a fist, another roundhouse form her other side pounds into her titflesh with a dull ‘thud’. Back and forth, smacks, grunts, breasts flailing, elongating from side to side, smacking together as her naked body contorts in the taut ropes; the brief assault from behind her seeming so much longer as he leans forward in his chair, he takes in the brutal display in utter silence.
Another noticeable set of footsteps from behind, another hulking participant stepping through the group toward the platform in a crimson colored robe, the couple creaking steps up the wooden stairs and he wastes no time in smacking her across the face, plunging a fist into her flexing stomach as the black robed assailant stands behind her, hands sliding down firmly gripping her hips. Saliva spurting from her gag, her body arching, bending as her fingers, toes clench midair, another smash into her flexing stomach muscles, another and another across her bruised breasts, down across her pubic mound, her head slams forward as her body shakes in jerking spasms.
Coughing, wheezing, her blurring eyes again darting wildly as her head somehow jerks upwards and side to side as if she’s trying to find some sort of relief from someone, anyone of the onlookers, it’s apparent the initial assailant’s black robes’ parting with his hips pushing forward against her buttocks.
A pitiful long, harsh screech from the drooling gag as her body hyperflexes in his grasp of her waist, her dark pupils rolling up into her eyelids, the thickness of his shaft penetrating her rectum, tearing, plunging inward toward her bowels, the crimson robed tormentor steps closer to her side, jams two, three thick fingers between her thighs from the front, thrusting, probing between her stretching labium as her spread hips quiver, bounce on the thrusting shaft impaling her from behind. His forth finger followed by the thumb, the muscular arm ramming repeatedly upwards, her naked body drenched in sweat jerks sporadically back and forth in the creaking ropes, her head twisting, breasts flailing as both orifices are stretched, abused in full view of the onlookers.
Watching with somewhat mixed emotions, the sight brutal with the obvious signs of blood oozing from her thighs, her breasts as she borders on unconsciousness, he senses the sadistic excitement of his acquaintance’s animated reactions next to him, his enthusiasm obvious as he leans forward, gripping his knees with tightened knuckles, responding to each blow, each brutal penetration of the suffering woman as if he’s also a participant in dishing out her punishment.
Can’t help from thinking of his own recent girls, of his treatment of his own submissives throughout the years even, he tends to think that he himself is more humane, not so sadistic in his tastes, not that their pain to a degree doesn’t excite him. Then again he doesn’t really like seriously harming, doing permanent physical damage to any of his stable, unless of course, it’s deserved.
More footsteps, yet another robed individual, yet another distinctive color of deep purple, he steps through the group practically dragging the young blond from the other room, her fraying ponytail swaying behind her iron collar as she shuffles behind him in her clanking chains. Onto the stage, the other men stepping away from the spread-eagled slumping body of their initial victim limply quivering in the taut ropes, the blonds’ grabbed by either shoulder as her chains are harshly removed and tossed off the stage. Physically forced to kneel, the black robed man’s foot pressing into the small of her back, her arms arched back behind her in his hulking fists with her elbows nearly pressed together, the sack’s torn from her body, her bare breasts jaunting outward, milky white with pert, pinkish nipples already with faint bruises.
Her eyes terrifyingly wide as they catch a glimpse of the naked and bleeding body suspended up in front of her, her head twisting from side to side as she’s bowed backwards into an awkward serpentine type arch while her knees scrape further apart on the podium’s wooden surface, the three assailants surround her, the other two with wide, barber straps in their fists. Positioned on either side of her as her chest is forced even further upward and outward with the boot thrust harshly against her backside, her arms twisted, abnormally contorted behind her, the straps simultaneously curl forward in matching fists, flail toward her hardening breasts spreading apart into firm, rounded mounds.
A series of ‘thwacks’ resounding across the room, her breasts flattening, bouncing, stretching as they quickly discolor from milky to crimson, to purplish bruises, her anguished grunts are muffled by the constant smacking of damp leather mostly across bare titflesh. More then a dozen lashings, closer to a score, the ever curling straps also leaving their wide, bruising imprints across her hollowed stomach, shaven pubic mound, the girl’s obviously horrified, barely coherent as she’s forcefully bowed forward, slammed face down onto the platform, ropes looped, twisted around her wrists before she can try to fully curl into a defensively fetus position.
Arms hoisted above her head as she’s jerked, slammed around, shuffled to the front of the stretched but otherwise limp woman spread-eagled in the restraints behind her, the ends of the ropes tugged upwards, wrapped, wrapped again around those battered breasts, the backs of her hands flatten into those swollen mounds as her own legs are severely bent at the knees, ankles bound to thighs. Lifted completely up off the floor with her backside pressing against the front side of the barely conscious woman behind her, the weight of her body pulling downward on those bulging breasts above her, her bound knees are forced strictly apart, roped out to the woman’s spread ankles.
The sight of the women bound together, both facing forward in their own spread-eagled configurations, everything seems to be almost surreal, all happening so quickly, so brutally, he thinks as he can’t help glancing down toward his acquaintances’ white knuckles, the hands on knees still almost reflexively going along with the assailant’s motions.
The blonde again the center of attention, the three robed men position themselves to continue with her workout, her brutal treatment. A jet black ‘O’ ring stuffed inside her mouth as her lips are forced to their limits, what appears like a toothpick pressed vertically into each eyelid forcing her eyes to remain wide open, the whites showing completely around the nearly turquoise pupils, tears well, drip off her cheeks as her fingers clench, spread apart while pressing into the purplish titflesh of the woman behind her.
The trio of tormentors positioning themselves around her, a breast clamp of a pair of curved wooden slats pressed across her chest, hands gripping, centering her bruised mounds to press between the slates forming to her torso, screws tightened in unison on the outer sides of her quickly bulging breasts and each turn of a screw draws the slates tighter and tighter.
Her body bowing outwards as her grotesquely wide eyes dart downward while she grunts with each harsher turn, her fingers clench, flex, clench again as the contoured slates appear to nearly touch deep into her titflesh. The bruised mounds discoloring to a darkish purple shade, the stretching areolas nearly translucent, the black robed tormentor takes the lead as the other pair step to either side.
Long skewers, glistening chrome in his hand, taking one, pointing it vertical to the top slate of the breast clamp directly above her left breast, shoving downward, her shriek echoes across the room as he continues a deliberately slow thrust downwards. Her breast appearing to jiggle, saliva drooling, dripping off her chin, again her body spasms as the crimson tip of the skewer appears beneath the lower clamp. Stepping toward her other side with another skewer in hand while her head cranes, her welling eyes glare as the glistening instrument’s aligned above her right breast. An even more deliberate thrust with a slow steady motion, that bulging breast appearing to quiver as her head rears back against the hollowing stomach behind her, another guttural grunt and the tip of the reddish skewer appears beneath the clamp.
Continuing to watch, the use of the cruel instruments brutal as several rows of skewers are applied with the final set rammed directly into the nubs of her nipples, the hysterical blonde finally appears to slump to unconsciousness. He again feels that strange uncomfortable sensation, finds the exhibition obsessive, the punishment too sadistic to be appreciated for his own taste. Yet, his acquaintance next to him seeming almost consumed be the girl’s tortures, he has to wonder about his own girls later being given over to him, even for an evening.
Another murmur as footsteps approach from the rear, yet another full length robe covering a hulking man, this of pure white, the freckled complexioned, auburn haired woman’s being led by a gripped breast swollen, bulging between his clenching fingertips. Stumbling, nearly tripping as her piercing eyes remain sharply focused as she’s led toward the stage with his forefinger, thumb slipping to her stretching nipple, the chains and collar already removed leaving their bruising marks, her hands now bound by a leather strap behind her back, she stumbles onto the platform, slips to her knees as his fist jerks downwards.
Mouth forced wide, lips spreading apart in gripping fingers, his monstrous shaft slipping out from the slit in his robe, she gurgles as it plunges between her teeth while he grips her bound wrists, forces her arms upward, bowing toward him high above her backside. The crimson robed man stepping behind her spreading buttocks being forced ever higher, his cock swaying, huge and glistening as it probes outward between the garment’s slit, a forceful thrust and its rammed harshly between her quivering thighs. Both men already at least halfway into her orifices with single plunges, both thrusting simultaneously, her naked body bows, her breasts jerk, bounce together as her fingers clench high above her back.
Smacking sounds, gurgling breaths as she’s impaled from either end stroke after angry stroke, the black robed assailant steps beside her with a short bullwhip. The ominous pencil thin leather dripping with moisture, the end appearing split-tailed, he appears to align himself with her breasts dangling, swaying back and forth down from her contorting body already beginning to glisten with perspiration as she grunts, gasps between continuously harsh thrusts.
The swishing sound of the bowing shaft, the instantaneous ‘smacking’ of damp leather burrowing into contorting tit flesh, her naked body lurches as a breast flattens, elongates, smacks against the other. Another harsh backhanded stroke of the whip, another resounding ‘smack’ corresponding with her body arching from burrowing thrusts from either end, she again lurches, twists as her tautly straight arms remain twisted up behind her back by a firm hand. Back and forth, a breast singled out, then both a couple times, then individually again, the red welts crisscross, overlap her quickly discoloring and bleeding breasts even as her glistening body spasms to the cadence of the impaling shafts plunging into her spread orifices.
The sight of the carnage, the semiconscious women suspended together behind the redhead being brutalized, again he wonders at the unnecessary viciousness and haste of the exhibition, the waste of such good-looking women in such quick succession when a single woman could still be exhibited, exercised without so much obviously permanent injuries. Sensing a hand on his knee, the voice rasps in his ear.
‘Thomas, I’ve a surprise for you, come with me.’
Glancing over toward the smirking face, ignoring the sounds from the stage still buzzing in his ears, he stands, follows his companion toward the back, the door. Leaving the others as the door shuts behind them, the lone girl left shackled to the wall by the chocker collar’s short chain, he feels a hand on his shoulder.
‘She’s a present, for the next couple hours at least.’
The exotic girl, now naked with her wrists cuffed behind her back as she’s standing upright, her eyes briefly glance upwards, again back down toward the two men’s feet. Breasts standing upright, the dark areolas melding smoothly with her nipples perfectly centered on the globular mounds, her stomach gently hollows beneath her defined ribcage with each soft breath.
‘I know what you like, had her especially left out here for you.’
Glancing toward him, back toward her, he nods his approval even as he’s somewhat taken by the surprising offer. ‘She’s ours?’
‘Actually, yours.’ He answers as he hands out a key. ‘Take this, it’ll unlock he chain. The other door there’s a private room for the two of you.’ Nodding back toward the faint sounds behind the door they just left he smiles. ‘Now, I’m going back in there before it really gets serious, don’t want to miss joining in on the fun enjoy yourself ‘till I come and get you.’
Key in hand as he’s left alone with the girl, watching the door shut, glancing at the other, he steps toward the girl. Her eyes still lowered, her body visibly trembling, he senses her desperation, anxiety as he unlocks the chain from her collar. Feeling her bare flesh brushing against him, her breasts rising, lowering as she stands motionless, he slides a hand across her shoulder. Stepping toward the other door, swinging it open, it appears to be well equipped for whatever he decides to use her for.
End