Читать книгу The Bitch In Me - Kinky Bedtime Sex Stories - Emma Baker - Страница 5

"Darling."

"Hm?"

"Look."

You glance up see me standing in front of the couch, my arm outstretched. Your eyes widen and your lips part as your eyes focus on the circular metal collar I am dangling from my outstretched hand. "Tonight?"

"Tonight." I nod and sway the collar from side to side. "I got the call a few days ago and didn't want to tell you until I was sure."

Your eyes follow the collar, back and forth, and a radiant smile spreads across your face. You finally look up at me. "I need to take a shower, I need to...wash my hair, and what clothes am I gonna wear? Like, what's even allowed? I have to—"

"Shh." I flash a grin and crawl on top of you. "You'll make all the preparations you need to and I know you will look great, you always do."

You throw your arms around me as we settle into each other in our familiar way. "Somehow," you muse, "I don't think I could wear any clothing that would actually matter for tonight."

"Yeah." I pull you close to me and murmur into your lips. "They are pretty inconsequential, aren't they?" "Can I wear it?"

I pull back and my heart jumps at the excited gleam in your eyes. "Yes, you can, if you're ready to keep it on."

You kiss me deeply and breathe a yes into my lips. I sit us up and hold the collar between us.

It is a finely crafted piece of silver, carefully polished and embossed with the symbols of the organization that commissioned its existence. The largest two are the letters P and S, delicately engraved on opposite sides of the circle. In between those is a hinge, and opposite the hinge is a clasp with a plastic joining piece, keeping the collar from being closed. Below the S is a metal ring.

I pull off the plastic piece and look you in the eyes. Silently, I reach over and clasp the silver collar around your neck. You blink as the lock clicks into place.

Neither of us have the key.

Later

The city glitters beneath us, becoming more and more distant as the elevator rises. Faintly, I can see your reflection in the glass. You're wearing a simple, yet elegant pencil dress that highlights your curves, coupled with heels. Your makeup, as far as I can tell, is subtle but beautifully done, with a little more emphasis on your eyes. Your hair is done in a bun, and you are the most beautiful woman I've ever known.

I can't tell if you're nervous. The dreamy expression on your face belies nothing about what's going through your head. I reach over and squeeze your hand. "Hey."

You look at me. "Hey."

"Ready?"

You smile and squeeze my hand. "Ready."

The elevator slows to a stop and the doors open. I squeeze your hand a final time, and lead you into the Penthouse. We are greeted by a large set of oak double doors and a tall, well-kept man in a suit behind a podium. Before either of us could say anything, he addressed us.

"Welcome to the Penthouse. Do you have a reservation?" I could feel him giving me a once-over. His eyes landed on your collar, and he nodded as if it were all the response he needed. "One moment while I confirm your reservation details." Both of us smile nervously as he types something into his computer.

Finally, he looks up at us again. "May I store your electronic devices?" I hand over my cell phone; we hadn't bothered to bring yours. He takes it, attaches a small sticky note to it, and locks it in a cabinet under his podium. After this, he turns to face us again.

"Everything is in order. Please, come in." He smiled and stepped to the double doors, gesturing us to follow. We walk into a hallway with red carpet and soft yellow light from lamps mounted on the walls.

At the end of the hallway is a large, Victorian-style room, centered with a semicircular, ornate dining table. Other guests are already here, lounging on sofas and talking. You and I can only take this in for a moment before you are approached by an individual dressed in all black, with the word "Handler" stitched in silver on the lapel of their collar.

"Miss? Are you ready?"

I look at you, and your eyes flicker to me for only a moment before you reply, "Yes." The handler wordlessly attaches a cord that seems to be made of golden rope and steel links to the ring in your collar and begins leading you away from the dining room, towards a small door. You look back at me once, just as your hand is pulled from mine.

I can only admire the curve of your ass swaying as you are walked to the door at the end of the hall. As you step inside, I can see the handler saying something, and I see you sink to your knees. You place your hands on the floor, and the door closes.

I stand there for a moment, looking at the door, until I am approached by a man I assume to be a host.

"This way, sir." I follow my guide to the area beside the dining table, where other guests, men and women, are mingling. All the people I see are dressed well and they look to range in age from mid-twenties to early fifties. In terms of demographics, it seems to be a fair mix of races and ethnicities. As I look around, I estimate there are less than 20 people.

The general social atmosphere, however, is very different than any other I've ever encountered. The people in the room, presumably strangers, seem very familiar and relaxed with one another as they chat amicably. The pressure to meet any social standards at all is notably absent, and each personality in the room feels genuine.

I easily slip into a group of guests. "Hi."

"Hey!" A tall woman with thick glasses and numerous bracelets swivels to face me immediately, grinning. "I don't remember you! Which means this is your first visit to the Penthouse, am I right?"

"Right." I nod, a little taken aback by the intensity of her response. "We only found out about this place a few years ago, and obviously it took a while to get invited and cleared—"

"Totally." A guy with surfer-style blond hair and a neck tattoo flashed his perfectly white teeth at me. "It actually took us three times."

"So which one's yours?" The tall lady interrupted. "You can call me Sasha, by the way."

"Sasha, hi, nice to meet you." I turn my attention back to her. "I'm here with Carolyn."

Sasha nods thoughtfully. "I'll look for her on the menu. It is 'her', right?"

"Yes, her." I smile, suddenly reminded of what's happening to you right now. "Who are you here with, Sasha?"

"Well, I'm usually here with Travis, my sub, but this time I decided to treat a friend. You'll find her under 'Lydia'."

I wanted to ask Sasha more things, like how long she had been coming here, but then a tone played across the room, not unlike the sound that accompanies the seatbelt sign on airplanes. It was followed by a woman's voice.

"Good evening, all. The last guests have arrived, and the entire menu is now being prepared. Dinner will commence in 20 minutes, followed, of course, by a social event in the Playroom."

Sasha squeezes my arm. "Let's go sit." I follow her and the rest of the crowd to the table, which is set with fine dinnerware and black menu cards. I pull out a chair and sit.

Sasha takes a seat to my left, and I look down at my menu. The front lists various main courses, including fish, lobster, chicken, and steak, as well as drinks. The back is much more interesting.

Slave List:

Astrid

Averell

Carolyn

Edgar

Evelyn

Franco

Jennifer

Lucille

Luke

Natalia

Oliver

Patrick

Piper

Slaves are served freshly spanked and edged to the specifications of their owners. Slaves may be fed from the table and shared. All slaves will be chained to rotating serving platters and presented in the center of the table. All slaves will be served to all guests to ensure that each guest receives a sample as a prelude to the social event. Between each permutation, each slave will be lightly washed and spanked (by request).

Next to each name is a picture, and I see yours next to Carolyn. We took that during sex one night; you still had a plug inside you. I decide to order a steak and root beer.

The food is served first, by stone-faced servants dressed in black. The steak is delicious, but I feel like I'm eating it in the third person somehow, distracted by anticipation. A bell rings, and everyone looks around expectantly.

Sasha leans over and nudges me. "Here we go!" She whispers excitedly.

The voice of the Penthouse addresses the table. "Ladies and gentlemen, your slaves are served."

The servants roll out wooden carts with the slaves chained to rotating platforms on top of them, as the menu specified. The slaves are naked, entirely hairless from the neck down, and bound with both metal chains and rope in various positions. Every slave is blindfolded and fitted with a ballgag, and each ass that I can see is rosy red. The foremost slave is a slave boy on his side, with one leg stretched into the air and tied to a wooden post extending upwards. His other leg is bent at the knee and tucked beneath him and his wrists are secured to his collar. His cock, like that of all the male slaves, is fully erect.

The servants position his cart so that the serving platter lines up with the rails laid into the table. Effortlessly, the servants slide him into and across the table. I reach out and stroke his leg as he passes.

Shortly following him is a slave girl tied in a doggystyle position, with her collar secured to her platform and her arms behind her back. The platforms come to a rest, and recognize the slave in front of me as Natalia. I glance at the rest of the carts and see you down at the very end, in front of a relaxed-looking male guest with long hair.

Natalia is displayed on her back, with her heels secured by her neck in an impressive display of flexibility. Her olive skin is smooth and unmarked, save for some faint welts on her exposed thighs and ass, presumably from her dinner preparations. I see Sasha give an approving look before groping the upraised ass of the slave girl in front of her. I tentatively run my hands up Natalia's thighs, feeling the heat still emanating from them. All around me, the guests are happily talking and laughing as they examine, feel and taste the slaves in front of them. Across the table and a few spots down, a woman is licking a slave's cock as she feeds him mashed potatoes, having removed his gag. Elsewhere, the guest that currently has you laughs as he pushes his fingers in your mouth.

Inspired, I lower my face to my slave's pussy and lick. She squirms slightly, hopefully in pleasure. I close my eyes and keep licking, eventually moving my tongue to her asshole.

She was wet when I started (another product of dinner prep), and I can feel her getting wetter as I work. Pleased, I rise and rotate her platform, bringing her head and feet to me.

I press a piece of my steak through her lips and slowly lick the soles of her feet. I hear her moan faintly as she chews. I lift my head and pull down her blindfold, looking curiously into her eyes. She stares back at me dreamily as her mouth hangs open, likely in an unconscious gesture of submission. I slip a finger into her mouth and she automatically closes her lips around it and sucks, still looking into my eyes.

The next bell rings, and the slaves' platforms begin to shift across the table. I replace Natalia's blindfold and give her a soft kiss on her lips as she is wheeled away, and soon the table is empty of slaves.

The next order is headed by a redheaded slave girl suspended upside down by a metal structure. I scan the rest of the lineup and I see you, secured on your knees with your hands behind your head and your collar attached to a metal pole perpendicular to the platform. I reach out and slide a hand down your back as you pass me. Your platform comes to rest to my side in front of Sasha, and a lightly muscled twink slave appears in front of me, face up with his legs in the air. The guests again begin tasting their slaves, and Sasha winks at me before taking your face in her hand and giving it a long, slow lick.

I idly jerk my slave's cock and watch Sasha play with you. She removes your ballgag and blindfold and whispers an instruction to keep your eyes closed. She kisses you softly while gently squeezing your exposed, hanging boobs. I turn my attention back to my slave for a moment; his cock is throbbing in my hand.

I hear his breathing getting heavier. I don't want him to cum just yet, so I release his cock and insert a thumb in his ass. I hear you moaning loudly and turn my head.

Sasha is aggressively fisting you, with one hand deep inside your pussy and the other arm around your back, pulling your ass into her face. She herself moans; I think she's tasting your asshole.

Seeing how easily Sasha is controlling you, and how helpless you are to all these people, is getting me hard. More excited, I start fingering my own slave more deliberately, pressing my thumb deep into his ass. His hips start to move, and I decide to edge him again. I lean down and spit on his cock, and after a moment's thought, I lick its full length and take him into my mouth, sucking hard. Now he moans, and I move down to lick his balls as I stroke his cock, now lubricated with my spit.

You and Sasha are now face to face again, and she has her fingers in your mouth, making it hang open. You're drooling, and I'm pretty sure that it's the same hand she used to fist you, making you taste yourself. She's whispering to you again, probably telling you to call yourself a whore, or a slut, or a piece of meat whose only purpose is to be served for dinner. You answer as best you can, drooling, naked, chained, and put on display for the crowd.

After a while, after all of the guests have sampled all of the slaves, the final arrangement of slaves is wheeled away. I catch your eyes as you pass me; your expression is glazed and distant. Your cart disappears, and dessert - real, proper dessert - is served as a palate cleanser. The voice addresses us once more.

"Attention all guests, the social event will commence in ten minutes in The Playroom. All slaves will be cleaned, prepped and displayed for public use. Toys and implements will be provided at tables throughout the room, and attendants will be on hand to facilitate the bondage and transportation of slaves for enjoyment. Guests are encouraged to play with multiple slaves, and most importantly, to share."

Everyone at the table, including me, is leaning back in their chairs, at once full and incredibly aroused. Some us the guests are smiling, laughing between deep breaths of exhilaration, others are idly touching themselves with dreamy expressions on their faces. The slave tasting did exactly what it was meant to do: give everyone a sample, so they'd know what they wanted during Playtime. I know my own favorites, Natalia among them, but I'm not sure yet if I want to visit you or just watch other men and women use you.

I follow the crowd as people get up and return to the lounge. I feel a tug on my shoulder and turn around.

Sasha grabs my hands and pulls me in. "Oh my GOOODDD," she gushed. "Carolyn was amazing, thank you so much for bringing her. That ass?" She pulls away and gestures with two open hands, as if demonstrating your curves. "Actually divine. I almost got lost. And I love the way she kisses."

She thumps me on the shoulder. "You, sir, are a lucky man. Actually," she laughs, "We're all lucky in here. I bet she's going to be real popular in there." I smile and begin to say something, maybe a comment about how I loved seeing her use you, but my breath is stolen from me as Sasha suddenly lunges forward and kisses me deeply.

She pulls back and meets my startled expression with the most seriousness I've seen from her yet. "Seeing couples like you do this is the hugest turn-on for me. Translating the romance and love and trust into sharing your wife with strangers is just so deliciously dirty, and it's so sweet at the same time..."

She licks the side of my face, from my jawline to my ear. "She's not the only one of you being shared tonight. At some point during playtime, I am going to fuck you, and we're gonna make her watch." She grinned, overcome with whatever mix of lust and alcohol had consumed her. "I want to see her face...and then I want to sit on it."

I stared into Sasha's grinning face, taken aback by her words but simultaneously turned on by them. I knew what to expect from this evening, but this woman's unbridled sexual enthusiasm was singularly exciting. Right then I very much wanted to see her fantasies play out. I brought you here to be shared, to give you to others to be passed around and fucked. It made sense that others would be eager to take you.

"I'll make it happen." I flash a grin at her, imagining her naked on top of you.

Another announcement rings through the room:

"Attention all guests, playtime is ready to begin. Please make your way over to the Playroom. Remember, share and be considerate of other guests."

Sasha beams at me and takes my hand, moving to my side. We watch the other guests replace their post-dinner lethargy with lustful anticipation and hurry toward the ornate double doors. Sasha's hand in mine feels soft and strong. She gives it a tug, and we move together to join the flow of guests into the Playroom.

The Playroom is a vast, ballroom-like space, decorated as one would expect a king's banquet hall to be. The atmosphere was similar to that of a movie theater; seductively dim with areas of warm light. Dark red curtains flowed around the walls, accented with black and gold tassels. As far as I could see, there were no windows save for an opaque skylight curved around the high ceiling. Several large cages hung from that ceiling, suspended by thick chains. featuring some of the evening's slaves in various states of bondage.

Below the cages was an assortment of tables, platforms, and other structures to which the rest of the slaves were each affixed. Every slave was displayed like an exhibit at a museum, complete with a small descriptive plaque. The manner of display for each slave seemed to be random, but complimentary to each slave's best attributes. Slaves with exceptionally full asses had them hoisted prominently into the air, some had decorative plugs inserted into one or both holes. Breasts were thrust out, legs were spread wide, and every slave with a cock was erect and ready. Oil had been rubbed into their skin during the preparation and the slaves' bodies gleamed invitingly in the soft light.

Just inside the entrance stood a plain table with hundreds of bottles of water, several standing racks for clothing, and a table filled with floggers, whips, ropes, ballgags, plugs, and several other kinds of penetrative devices and spanking implements. Along the walls of the room, black-suited attendants stood ready to assist with slave handling and repositioning.

It was a glorious display of sexuality, objectification, and ownership. Sasha and I stood motionless for a moment, watching as the crowd began to move among the displays. A bit late, the third and final announcement came:

"Playtime has begun. Guests are encouraged to visit and use a variety of slaves. Have fun!"

Suddenly I felt a light touch on my chin and my face was turned. I had only a moment to register the manic gleam in Sasha's eyes before she pulled me in, pressing her body against mine and thrusting her tongue in my mouth. "Catch up with me later," she whispered before turning and moving toward the crowd. In one fluid motion, she unzipped something and slipped out of her silky dress, handing it to a silent attendant with a flourish. She twirled once for me, in just her heels. I watched her now naked body melt into the erotic throng.

I smiled slightly and started on my own path through the 'exhibits'. Nearest to me was a female slave displayed on its back, with its legs secured in the air in a V position and its hands tied to its sides. Two guests were dominating it currently, a powerfully built man and a dark-haired woman wearing nothing but lacy panties and a sheer top.

"You are not to cum without permission." The woman spoke sharply, but her face was ecstatic. Her orders were accompanied by two of her fingers gently pumping inside the slave's cunt. The man, silver haired, shirtless, and well-built, had his hand over the slave's mouth, forcing her head back. "You are nothing but a plaything," the man intoned, staring into the slave's eyes. It nodded as best it could and attempted to moan its agreement.

Its legs trembled violently as the woman sped her up her hand, at the same time lowering her mouth to the slave's overstimulated cunt. The man then withdrew his hand and moved nearer to its head. "Open," he commanded. It turned toward him in response, its mouth in a wide O and its tongue out. Roughly squeezing one of the slave's tits, the man slid his cock into her throat. The combination of being throatfucked and eaten out was driving the slave crazy; I could see its outstretched legs shaking. Even as contorted as it was, I recognized the slave from the dinner menu. Evelyn.

The man and woman switched places, and I circled the platform as they moved. The woman wiggled out of her panties and carelessly tossed them behind her. I looked into Evelyn's face, and she met my gaze. I saw nothing but submission and fearful excitement in her eyes before her face was obscured, buried deep in the woman's ass. I looked back and saw the man fucking her energetically. Even through the woman's voluptuous ass, her lustful moans were audible. The only other expression she could manage was to flex her toes, which she did.

I ran my hands over her torso and cupped her tits as the man continued his fucking and the woman, laughing, started to bounce over the slave's face, sending waves rippling through her very full ass. Her smile was radiant as she enjoyed the sensation of the slave's tongue going in and out of her asshole. Roughly, I squeezed the slave's tits, and heard a perceptible increase in its moaning for a moment. Pleased, I left the duo to their conquest and continued among the displays.

I came across a male slave on its back. It had a fair complexion with a smattering of freckles across its nose. It had curly, light-brown hair that was being tightly held by a woman, to hold its head down on its platform. Another woman, dress pulled up, was gleefully riding the slave's cock, rubbing her clit as she bounced. The slave's arms and legs were tied to its platform, and both women taunted it.

"Don't you dare cum, little boy. I'm not done! This cock needs to stay hard for me, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," the slave replied through gritted teeth. It was using whatever techniques it knew to prevent itself from cumming; it blushed with the effort. The woman holding his hair laughed and spit down in his face. She then slapped it a few times, hard, twisting its hair with the other hand, making it moan in pain. As the lady bouncing on the slave's dick started to moan with her impending orgasm, the herculean effort of not cumming forced the slut to tense every muscle in its tight, lean body.

The woman reached orgasm, exhaling dramatically, then stood up, towering over the pathetic slutboy. "Not bad, little slut. You didn't even cum!" She stepped on him, pressing her bare toes into his face. "Thank you, Mistress" the muffled reply came.

"He's had it too easy," mused the woman at his head, stroking his hair. "A girl on his dick? That's every guy's dream. This slave boy needs some adversity in his life."

"Absolutely," the first woman agrees emphatically, continuing to mash her bare foot into the slave's face. With a few quick instructions to passing attendants, the boy was mounted with his feet on the floor, legs apart, bent at the waist with his arms straight and up behind him. His chin was placed at the end of a cushioned pole extending from the floor, forcing him to look straight ahead, and he was fitted with a large ballgag that completely inhibited any sort of speech.

The two women invited passersby to sample their prize, and I drifted forward. Amused, I forced my thumb into the slut's asshole, up to its full length. With my other hand, I reached around and slowly jerked its cock. Delighted, the women berated the pathetic slave boy, slapping him and telling him he would be horrifically punished if he cums. It moaned, and its ass flexed and tightened with the continued effort of not cumming. Intrigued by how it might be punished, I nonetheless gave the slave's cock one last stroke before removing my thumb from its ass. Before I stepped away, I reached under and squeezed its balls, hard, kneading them in my palm. I was rewarded with a muted groan of agony and a slight convulsion as the slave tried to resist my assault.

A large bear of a man, as much hair on his broad chest as on his bearded face, approached the two women then. He gestured to the bound little beta male. "Is this hole free?" I released my grip and moved closer.

"Yes, please feel free! He's only ever had the strap before, but I've been so anxious to give him a real cock. Use him all you like." The woman looked at her slave, smirking. Its eyes widened in panic, and it started to form some pleading sound around its gag. It doesn't get much out before the huge man spreads its plump little asscheeks with his meaty hands and slams the full length of his sizable cock into its almost-virgin boy pussy.

Its screams fill the space even with the huge gag. To add to its misery, the women laughed and took turns twisting its nipples and slapping its cock. Notably, the slave was fully erect and leaking precum, a fact not overlooked by the women as they continued their admonishment that it should not cum. After a decently long period of time -- about 20 minutes -- the man filled the slave's belly with his load. He groaned in relief, and with a final slap to its ass, he allowed his thick member to slide out of the slut's widened hole. Not even addressing the slut, he thanked its handlers and sauntered away. Two more men approached the women, and they talked excitedly. The slave whimpered as his gag was removed and the men took their places on either side of him. More well-endowed guests lined up, hungrily patting and stroking the trembling slave as they waited their turn. As I turned to leave, the men expertly spitroasted the slender boy, choking and stuffing him with cock for what was apparently only the second time in his life.

I heard a familiar moan and glanced around. You are suspended from an iron arch, tied with your arms behind your back and your knees to your chest, parallel to the ground. A slender woman with two full tattoo sleeves spoke softly to you with her fingers in your mouth. Mildly curious, and fascinated by someone else controlling you, I drifted a bit closer to hear.

"You're a nice little toy, you know." Her British accent captured your attention perfectly as her manicured, deep red fingernails played with your tongue, keeping your mouth open. "Such a fat ass you have, too, little pet. Lots of people here are going to enjoy using that, don't you think?"

"Uh-huh..." Your speech is limited by her hand prodding further into your mouth. She smirked, watching you drool helplessly.

Behind you, a few guests talked amongst themselves and inspected you, casually fingering your holes. The topic of discussion seemed to be which buttplug best suited your ass; several plugs of various sizes were being inserted and removed from your asshole. Your eyes were wide as the woman in front of you reached under and started rubbing your clit. Pleased, I decided to leave you there for the moment. People seemed to be having fun with you.

I wandered into a circle of guests surrounding a female slave on her knees, doing her best to service everyone. Across her chest was written "cockslut". One of them motioned for me to participate. Acquiescing, I disrobed, handing my clothes to the nearest attendant. The slave's mouth was roughly passed around, eventually getting to me. Cockslut proves to live up to her name; she took me far enough down her throat to press her nose against my pelvis. Excited, I throatfucked her vigorously a few times. Her eyes flickered up to me and I felt her moans as her throat vibrated. I enjoyed this sensation for a while before considerately taking her by the hair and forcing her mouth onto my neighbor's cock.

After a few more rounds, a woman stepped into the circle and led the slave, crawling, to a nearby fucking platform, positioning the slave on her back and securing her with built-in restraints. Turning, the woman addressed everyone in the vicinity. "This slave needs to be fucked. Every hole is free use!" Men and women encircled the slave like sharks in frenzy, and everyone was giving orders. The slave struggled to keep up, and was soon obscured from my view as she was used like the fucktoy she was.

I felt a hand caress my shoulders. Sasha slid around me and pulled herself in, pressing her tits to my chest and lightly dragging her nails down my back. She was fully nude with her hair slightly mussed, and she smiled up at me. "Come on," she whispers. "Let's go see her. They're spanking her."

"...yeah." I murmured my response into her mouth as she kissed me. I allowed myself to be led through the throng, past a multitude of slaves being whipped, fucked, and dominated, to where a man in a black silk shirt, sitting atop a platform, had you draped over his knee. The tattooed woman sat beside him, regarding you sternly. I knew by the rhythm and severity of the blows that this was a disciplinary spanking, and that you had been instructed to hold your hands on your head. Judging by the redness of your ass, I estimated that fewer than fifty have been delivered.

Smack. "Fifty-two, Sir!" you announced, your voice clear. I've trained you well, but he's just getting started, not even using an implement yet. Your plight has drawn a small audience that teases and taunts you. I joined them with Sasha on my arm and hung back to watch the show.

"Why are you being punished?" The man in silk asked you in a low voice.

"This slut is being punished for failing to use its tongue properly, Sir." Your voice wavers slightly.

Smack. "What did you fail to use it for, slut?"

"Fifty-three, Sir. I failed to make Mistress Lydia cum in less than five minutes, Sir." Mistress Lydia regarded you with a mock coldness from her seat.

Smack. "What are you?" The man kept his hand on your ass, grabbing a handful and squeezing.

"Fifty-four, Sir. I am a useless slave cunt, Sir." I'm proud of this declaration.

Smack. "You should be grateful that I am here to correct you." Your ass jiggles violently, but your face remains composed.

"Fifty-five, Sir. Thank you for correcting me, Master James, I need correction."

"Why do you need correction?"

"I need correction because I'm a dumb slut, Sir."

Smack. "That's right. Good whore." Master James produced a paddle and ran it lightly over your ass. "Dumb sluts like you need lots of correction, don't they? That's why I use these." He leaned over and dangled it in front of your face, letting it swing back and forth like a pendulum.

Your eyes follow the paddle as you respond. "Please spank me, Sir, I need it..." I can feel your apprehension. The next 35 spanks bring you close to tears.

Smack. "Eighty-seven, Sir..." Your arms tremble and there is a real tremor in your voice now.

Smack. "Eighty...eight....Sir!" You gasp.

SMACK. "AHH...eighty NINESIRNINETYSIR!" He disrupts his rhythm with the next spank. Leaning down, he speaks softly to you.

"I'm going to give you an opportunity to correct your little mistake, and if you do, we'll forgive the last ten spanks. Okay, slut?"

"Yes, Sir...please, Sir..."

"Are you going to make us proud?"

"Oh yes, Sir, I am, please let mmmf-" Mistress Lydia suddenly reached down and clamped her hand over your mouth. She gave you a hard look into your eyes, and enunciated three words.

"Make. Me. Cum." You nod frantically, and are allowed to lower your arms. Mistress Lydia's chair is repositioned so that she can sit directly in front of your face, with her pussy level with your mouth. Master James starts fingering you, and you go to work on your task, licking and sucking Mistress Lydia. Your fervor is rewarded soon enough as Lydia cums explosively, grabbing the back of your head and furiously humping your face. Master James laughs, and delivers a final spank to your punished ass.

The crowd laughed and cheered as James hoisted you to your feet to present your newly disciplined behind, bending you at the waist and leading you by the back of your head, forcing you to spin in place. Lydia spread your asscheeks, showing everyone your perfect slut holes. Leading Sasha, I approached the platform and caught James' attention.

"Nice job. This one's mine, do you mind if I steal her for a moment?"

He laughed. "Not at all. A beautiful ass, absolute pleasure to spank. On behalf of everyone, thank you for bringing her."

"Thanks for spanking her." I reply with a small smile. "She does desperately need the punishment."

Pleased with his work and showmanship, he complied gracefully, handing you to me and melting into the crowd with a flourish. Lydia smiled at me, then drew your mouth open with a finger and spat into it. With that, she walked off.

I drew you close, lifting your chin with a finger. As I've trained you to do, you opened your mouth and hung your tongue, like a dog panting in heat. Your arms went back up, locked behind your head. I looked into your eyes, deeply. I know you inside and out. Something about the way you looked back at me tells me that you love this, love being publicly used, displayed, shamed. Sasha beamed at you and planted a kiss on your cheek, to which you fluttered your eyelids to show your appreciation.

You tilted your head slightly, and I can sense a silent plea; you wanted me to do that to you now. To show everyone how completely I've made you mine, how much of a slut I've molded you into. I stuck two fingers into your open mouth, sliding them across your wet tongue toward your throat. You convulsed a little as you attempted to suppress your gag reflex, your already brimming eyes in danger of overflowing, and I smiled.

In a few moments, I had you on all fours secured to a spanking horse. A few of your admirers were still gathered around, to my delight, and Sasha stood by your head. She's smiling, cooing and stroking your hair, as if you were her pet. I tightened the last strap. With the help of Sasha, I was going to make a show of you.

I moved around you and whispered into Sasha's ear. She turned her head slightly to me, not moving her eyes from you. Finally, she giggled and nodded. "Can I get a chair?" She asked an attendant floating nearby. Within seconds, a black leather chair materialized, and she elegantly sat in front of you.

Nude in her chair except for her heels, she looked at you and formed her lips into a playful pout. "I've been walking around all night, and my feet are so sore. They ache." She gently placed the bottom of one of her heels square in the center of your forehead. "Are you gonna help me out?" Unable to raise your head to look at her, you nevertheless answered clearly in the affirmative. "Yes, ma'am, I will."

Standing beside you, watching my little foot fetish fantasy unfold and idly groping your ass, I watched Sasha's visage become darker and more dominant, the picture of a powerful and sadistic mistress. She raised her leg from your forehead and angled her foot just below your mouth. "Undo my shoe." There was no playfulness in her tone. I watched the back of your head as you struggled to undo the complex buckles of her heel with your teeth. Members of our audience, milling about with drinks and idle chatter, laughed at your efforts. Sasha allowed you to struggle for about a minute, relishing how helpless you were and how futile the task she had set for you was. Finally, she let out a comically exasperated sigh and undid her own shoe, leaning in to chastise you.

"I asked you to help me out, didn't I? Don't you want to make my aching feet feel better?"

"Yes ma'am, I'm sorry ma'am!" You are, by now, very used to the feeling of apologizing for failing to complete impossible tasks.

"Can't you complete simple tasks? I only asked you to take my shoe off."

"I'm so sorry, ma'am, I'm trying-"

"Call me mistress. You really are a stupid little slut, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress, I am!" You love degradation.

"Say it. Tell all these people, in fact. Say it to everyone!" She takes your hair in her hand and turns your head toward our very amused audience.

Having no choice, you speak, addressing the room at large. "I....I'm a stupid slut, everyone!"

Your declaration is met with jeers and laughter. Some people stepped forward to slap your ass and thighs. Working my hand between your legs, into your exposed pussy, I can feel you getting significantly wet.

Sasha slapped your cheek to bring your attention back to her. "Good girl. Now. My feet still ache. Maybe you'll be useful for something after all, slut." Deftly undoing her other shoe, she placed her feet next to each other and raised them up. Her soles were white, creamy and, to my estimation, slightly larger than average. The curve of her insole is whiter than the pink outer region and her toes descend in length, Egyptian style. She parted them slightly, to look you in the eyes as she issued her next command. "Lick my feet."

Your tongue extended once more, and she lowered her soles to your face. I moved closer to watch you run your tongue up and down her soles. She pressed her right foot into your face, using her left to hook around your neck and draw you closer.

"Do you like my feet?" She slid her foot down to rest the ball of her foot over your mouth, with her toes just under your nose. Her nails were painted a stylish black.

You nodded in response, and she tutted at you and forced her foot into your mouth. "Suck my toes. You'll learn in time to be more enthusiastic, little girl." Driven by instinct now, you closed your eyes and sucked dutifully. Sasha glanced at me, now kneeling beside you to observe, and inquisitively offered me her other foot. I accepted graciously and pressed her sole to my face. Sasha leans back, relishing the power. She wiggled her toes into my mouth now. "Between my toes," she directed us both, and we complied.

Her feet felt as soft as they looked. After only a few seconds of both of us sucking her toes, she lowered a dainty hand to her pussy and started masturbating. Slowly at first, then furiously, directing us to suck, bite, lick her feet with more and more rigor. The crowd cheered as she came.

Sighing with pleasure, Sasha leaned back in her chair as I thoughtfully wiped her feet with a towel presented by an attendant. You looked at her with an expression that was almost hungry. I turned your face to mine and kissed you deeply. Our tongues swirled, and we shared the taste of Sasha's feet.

I pulled back. "Good girl." Standing, I nodded at Sasha, signaling an end to her break. She turned back on and knelt in front of you, taking your face in her hands. I circled you and spread your beautiful red ass wide. Lovingly, I tongued your asshole, pushing as deep as I can go.

"You like it when your Master tongues your ass, huh?" Sasha cooed at you, gently squeezing your face in her hand, forcing your lips into a pucker and rendering you incapable of speech. "Mm-hmm!" Your enthusiastic nodding reverberated through your body to where I am connected to your asshole and shook my head a little.

"You've been very good, huh? You were a very good girl for that spanking!"

"Mmmm...."

"Your cute little ass is so red, isn't it?"

"Mm-hmm! Mmm..."

"And you have such a pretty face, too..." You tried to force a "thank you" through your trapped lips.

"You know what I want to do with this pretty face?" She wiggled her hand, momentarily turning you into a bobblehead. You looked up at her in tempered excitement. She leaned in so that your noses were almost touching, and whispered. "I want to smother it with my ass."

Turning, Sasha presented you with her immaculate, heart-shaped ass. This elicits cheers of approval from excited onlookers. She then slowly, sensuously, pressed her ass into your waiting face.

I can hear and feel you moaning into Sasha's ass. Squeezing your asscheeks together one final time, I withdrew my face from your ass. There's a small *pop* as my lips and your hole part. I'm delighted to see you with your face buried in her lovely ass, licking as eagerly as you can. Sasha, for her part, was overjoyed.

"Yyyyyesss! Use that tongue...slut!" She was almost breathless as she pushed the back of your head with her hand, guiding you even deeper into her backside. "Lick my asshole, that's a good little girl..." I resumed playing idly with your clit, and I watched Sasha begin to bounce her ass on your face in her quest to get your tongue as deep into her asshole as possible. "Ohhhhh...." She throws her head back and gyrates her hips, making your head sway. "...good girl."

Satisfied, I turned to address the crowd. "This pig slut needs breeding. Any volunteers?" Out of the crowd, a nude man materialized, leading a female slave on a leash. Master James. He thrust his hand up, flashed a grin at me, and confidently proclaimed, "I volunteer!" His cock is conveniently already hard, and of a suitable length and girth for you. He will do nicely, I think to myself. I nod and motion him forward. He handed his leashed slave to a crowd member, who pulled it over their lap for a casual spanking. As he stepped up, I spoke into his ear.

"Don't be gentle. I want her well fucked tonight." His eyes swiveled to meet mine. I saw his playful demeanor replaced by a primal lust. His grin changed, more predatory than playful now, and he nodded his understanding. Your former disciplinarian takes his position behind you, and I move to meet Sasha at the front.

I knelt in front of you. Behind me, Sasha has arranged for a platform to be brought for the both of us. She tapped my shoulder and handed me a ballgag, something I asked her for earlier. Without turning, I took it and wordlessly gagged you with it, tightening the strap well enough that you can do nothing with your mouth but drool. Slowly, I clasped one hand around your throat.

"I'm going to fuck her now. You will watch as you are bred, like the pig slut you are." Your eyes are frantic as adrenaline, lust, jealousy, exertion and fear battle for control. You make a sound from deep in your chest. All I hear is the lowing of a helpless animal. Rising, I turned and saw Sasha, spread and ready for me.

Sasha's screams of delight filled my ears as I fucked her. Inches away, I watched you being mercilessly pounded by Master James' cock. As I requested, you are being treated like no more than a set of holes. Your tormentor has fully mounted you with his hands at your throat, no doubt whispering endless degradations in your ear. Concentrating again on Sasha, I leaned down and bit her neck, squeezing one of her large, bouncing tits. She locked her legs around me and ran a hand through my hair, whimpering as I increased my speed. I hear you make that noise again. I looked up and saw you, being fucked, your ass rippling with each thrust, seeing me, deep inside her. The noise came from you again, a low, guttural moan of pleasure, before it is drowned out by the cheering crowd.

With a final thrust, Master James slowly pulled out of you. He didn't cum. He stepped off the platform, to applause, and reclaimed the slave he led earlier. Unceremoniously, he shoved his cock in its mouth to finish him off. Sasha pulled me down for a wet kiss, and I slid off of her. Catching a nearby attendant, I asked, "Can we get her on her back now, unsecured?" I motioned to you, quivering and glistening under the light. The attendant nodded, and you were swiftly removed from the spanking horse and flipped on your back on the platform that Sasha and I just used. For a moment, I allowed you to just lie there, panting with your eyes closed. Your tits are reddened from the pressure of being mounted. The moment passes, and I move between your legs.

"Get your legs up, slut," I command. Your eyelids flutter and your knees slowly bend. Sharply, I reach back and smack your thigh. "UP." That was the jolt you needed. Your eyes shoot open and your legs spring up in a perfect V, just as you're trained to do. Despite that, your legs tremble, and I smile. Sasha appears by your head and looks down at you dreamily. "Finally," she sighs as she spins and, with her ass facing me, pertly sits on your face.

I see your hands go up to cradle Sasha's hips as she gyrates on you, no doubt imploring you to give her a second orgasm. I lower my face to your navel and kiss you there, running a hand up to squeeze your tits. Your back arches; I can tell you want me. As Sasha gyrates more furiously, I slowly and deliberately push myself into you.

Fucking you is unlike fucking anyone or anything else. It's not just fucking, it's me claiming you as mine. Owning every curve, every inch of your flesh, every recess of your mind. You are a thing, and it is owned. My pig slut. Sasha repositions to face me, again lowering her pussy onto your waiting mouth. Looking into her eyes, I take one of your feet and hold it close to my face. Your feet are small, but incredibly soft. The curve of your arch cradles my face as I kiss your foot and run my nose along the pads of your toes. Enthused, Sasha takes your other foot and sucks your toes, gently bouncing on your face. I fuck you harder. You moan into Sasha's pussy, and, screaming through your toes, Sasha cums on your face.

Breathing heavily, Sasha pulls me toward her for a final kiss before sliding off of you. She bends down and gives you a kiss now, mixing her tongue with yours. Smiling, she wanders into the milling crowd and disappears.

You and me now. Chest to chest, one of my hands gripping your throat, the other in your mouth, forcing it open just the way I like. I fuck you as hard as I ever have.

"Little cunt." I can pass you around like an object.

"You like being passed around, don't you, slut?"

"Yeth, Master"

"What are you?" My hand in your mouth moves to the back of your head, cradling you and locking you in my grasp.

"I'm a stupid, worthless cunt, Master," you gasp in between thrusts.

"You're a dumb piece of ass for all these people to enjoy, yeah?

"yeah....I am, sir, I'm a dumb whore!" You scream these words, approaching climax, looking in my eyes.

I look down at you, at your wide brown eyes, your delicate cheeks, your pink tongue.

"Fucking slut." I love you.

"Master...Master...!"

"...slut."