I know I promised to get the bellydance gif posted. It's nearly done, I promise. I'll get it up in the next few days.
But, I realize that I haven't actually posted any of my written stories, or the partially completed Travel Story pics, here.
So, I'll be turning out a few of those, just to get caught up.
I lay back on the couch with my eyes closed. I could hear my girls working in other parts of my home, cleaning, organizing and cooking. I was enjoying the weight of the young slavegirl’s head resting on my chest and stomach as she caressed my neck and shoulders through my clothes. I pretended to be asleep…mainly because I really was half asleep.
“Master,” she whispered. “You wanted me to wake you at three.”
I turned towards her, and pulled her closer to me so that I could kiss her on the lips. They were full and soft. Her large, naked breasts pressed against me as I held onto her long, luxurious hair.
Brandy had been the youngest of my girls until fairly recently, but her body was far from immature. She was nicely rounded, firm, yet soft. She was maturing into a deeper understanding of her place as my slave. I had been, by and large, passing over this flower for her more matured sisters-in-bondage who already had a good sense of how to please a man. Certainly, I used her, but I should probably spend more time training her to my desires. She showed great promise.
I let my hands roam over her body, caressing her, enjoying her charms. She responded by pressing against me in undulating waves of desire. I kissed her softly again, biting lightly at her lower lip as I pulled away. Then I raised my self up against the arm of the couch to get a better look at her. I was still dressed, and would have to leave for my evenings work soon, but she was completely nude, as most girls are kept, as all of the girls in my house are kept.
I lifted her chin so that I could look at her more fully. She sat motionless for the inspection, leaning half over my body. She had a very fair complexion with a few freckles on her face, chest and arms. Her eyes were bright blue, and her long red hair draped over her shoulders and back. Her breasts were large white globes with large, pink aureolas and small upright nipples. They hung low and just rested on my shirt at my chest. My fingers caressed the smooth skin, then danced over the nipples before cupping one breast and raising it, appraising it. Good quality. My hand trailed down over her smooth belly, and down to her thighs. Her breathing became heavier, and I let my fingers explore her nether lips. She had a very small line of meticulously trimmed copper colored hair just above her vagina. She was the only one of my girls that I allowed any body hair, just to show off it’s dazzling color and to prove that she was a natural redhead. Redheads could be expensive.
I examined her nether lips more thoroughly. She voiced a small moan and her mouth trembled slightly, but she remained motionless. Her Master had positioned her and not given permission to move. She was obedient.
My fingers were getting slick. She was getting very excited. This type of physical response usually doesn’t start to show itself in a girl until she is a few years older. My Brandy was ahead of the curve. I put my left hand in her hair and pulled her close to taste her lips again, never stopping my attentions to her pussy.
“Mmmm,” I stated. “That’s very nice. Warm and welcoming. You like that, girl?” I probed deeper.
“Yes, Master,” she breathed. It was a hoarse whisper.
I slipped a finger inside and she quivered. “I think maybe I’ve been neglecting this little honey-pot,” I said. While I would occasionally use her pussy, I realized that when I fucked Brandy, I usually took her in the ass. It was tight and allowed my hands great access to her breasts. I liked to take all of my girls in the ass, as much as any other way. It showed control and their complete submission.
I also sometimes fucked Brandy’s tits, though more often than not I took her mouth, usually as a preamble to penetrating one of my other girls. She was learning how to suck cock well, though she hadn’t sufficiently mastered the talent enough for me to want to use her mouth for its own sake.
I slipped my finger out and around her vaginal lips before letting it slide further back between her thighs, and up between the round globes of her buttocks to tease her anus. My thumb took its place buried deep in her pussy. She was finding it difficult to breathe.
“Yes, I’ve definitely been neglecting this little gem. I’ll have to remedy that. Tonight, when I get home, I think I’ll lay you on your back and fuck this lovely little pussy until you scream.” She whimpered and almost collapsed on me.
I sat fully upright. It was time to get ready. I hated working two jobs, especially since all I wanted to do right now was take this little vixen to bed. But I had plans, and they required more money than I had, at the moment.
“Jaci! Lisa!” I called. “I have to go! Bring me my boots and uniform shirt.” Soon, two girls scampered in with my boots and shirt and quickly went to work putting them on me. A third girl, this one a little chubbier but with long brown hair and huge breasts, entered and knelt before me, a brown bag lunch proffered up to me. Jaci was just finishing tying my boots, her lips following to the leather of my boot. Lisa and Cindy followed suit, but I grabbed Brandy by the hair and tasted her tongue and rubbed her pussy before allowing her to join the other girls in kissing my boots in farewell.
“Finish what you were doing and get a little sleep before I get home. I’ll be home late. I’ll take Brandy and one of you to bed when I get home.” There were murmurs of ‘Thank you, Master’ as I stepped out the door. I tried to focus on work.
Before I got to the corner, I realized that I had forgotten my work keys, and I had to go back. I opened the door and was immediately furious. The other girls had gone back to their chores, but Brandy was lying on the couch, her hand rubbing between her thighs. She was so enthralled with herself that she didn’t even notice me come in, and continued to stroke her pussy on the couch with me standing there watching.
“What the hell!?!’” I exclaimed. Brandy’s head snapped back at the sound of my voice, and all color drained out of her face. I strode over and grabbed a handful of copper hair and yanked her onto the floor. “I’m not even gone for two minutes and you start breaking rules? Since when are you allowed on the furniture or allowed to pleasure yourself without my permission?”
She was stunned and looked up at me in shocked silence. She was caught, and she knew it. I slapped her face once. “Answer me, slut!” She stammered incoherently, so I slapped her twice more, forehand and back. “Since when can you use the furniture and pussy that I own?” Through her sobs she managed to blubber “I can’t, Master! I can’t! Please forgive me!”
“Forgive you? I was going to treat you tonight, make you a favorite and let you sleep in my bed. And how do you repay me? By breaking my rules. You flaunted your disobedience in front of me! How often do you do this?”
“Never, Master! Never!”
“You did it just now!”
“Just this once! Please, I was so excited. I couldn’t help it! Please forgive me! Pleas…”
I slapped her again, three times, fore and back. I could have broken her neck, I was so angry. Is this how my girls respect their Master?
I looked back for the other girls. Five heads bobbed in the hallway, trying to listen, but not wanting to be noticed. I threw the redhead to the floor and stepped on her hair, pinning her head to the ground.
“You five! Get your asses out here!” There was a flurry as the other five girls scrambled into the front room. “Line up towards the door! On your knees in obeisance.” They scrambled to line up, bodies squished together, knees apart, asses raised and heads to the floor. I reached down and grabbed hair again, pulling the redhead on her knees behind me. I threw her to the floor in front of the others. I didn’t even have words.
I walked out of the room and remembered that I needed my keys for the building I would be protecting tonight. I walked back to the hall and saw all six girls, five kneeling and quiet as death, one blubbering and scrambling to get onto her knees.
I walked forward and pushed her head down roughly. “You will ALL meet me at the door in this position. I want everything laid out for a whipping when I get home, and dinner hot and waiting for me. I’ll figure out the rest of your punishment later.” There were fresh sobs from Brandy. The other girls made no sound, not knowing if I meant to punish one, or all. I wasn’t sure which I meant either.
I pushed Brandy’s face to my boot, and she covered the leather with kisses and fresh tears. I then moved to each of the other girls so they could do the same. I reached down and grabbed an ass as they kissed, not knowing which girl I grabbed. I slapped it lightly, then walked out, closing the door behind me.
And this is how the world ended...and a new one began.
Post Apocalyptic story
Prologue, Chapters One and Two
First let me tell you a few things about myself. I’m middle aged, in fairly good shape, and I think I survived the collapse by sheer luck of having the right hobbies and bad luck in the normal world. How would that help? Because the hobbies gave me the right knowledge and skills, and the crappy luck made me crave something different and give me a ‘must survive’ attitude.
My hobbies: History and re-enacting, ancient skills, clean energy, gardening, the outdoors, and BDSM. The last didn’t actually help me survive the collapse, but did help me succeed in the aftermath. The rest are pretty self explanatory. I learned how to fight, how to hunt, how to collect food and water. I had an organic garden and a collection of heirloom seeds. I could use a bow and sling. I knew how to collect and retain rain water. My military experience and study of history taught me how to recognize and create a defensible position.
My rotten luck is another story. I was born poor, and fought like hell to make something of myself. I faced constant setbacks and opposition from people in various careers who saw me as competition or a threat to their schemes. I learned that life just isn’t fair. I learned to get back up when I was knocked down, to choose my own battles, and that I couldn’t save everyone…nor did I eventually want to. I learned every trick to survive. I learned to get by on the cheap. Even when I seemed to be doing ok, I planned for the worst, though I never expected it to get as bad as it actually did. I learned to live without air conditioning because it was too expensive. When I could afford it, I put a small solar array on my roof that could run the essentials. And I learned to stock up where I could, make the most of what I really wanted, and do without when I had no other choice.
In other words, I did what a lot of people are forced to do. I just did it smarter.
Then the end came: The economic collapse, the class warfare, the outbreak of what could rightfully be called ‘zombie-ism’, and the subsequent fall of society. I don’t think that there were really zombies. These weren’t the undead coming back from the grave. But there was a lot of rampant craziness, like thousands of people contracting rabies and trying to kill each other for one reason or another. Maybe it was a military experiment gone out of control. Maybe there were some bad drugs. Maybe Mother Nature decided this was the way to keep us from fucking up the world any more. Whatever it was, it was damned scary. And after awhile, you couldn’t be sure who had contracted the disease, who was just a looter or thug out trying to get revenge on society, and who had simply lost their mind in the chaos.
In the end, it didn’t really matter. What mattered was surviving the chaos. Most people didn’t survive. They were completely unprepared. I’m not sure what happened to the police or the military. My guess is that they were simply unprepared for the chaos, and after the initial attempts to stop the tide of anger, fear and disease, they simply abandoned their posts and did their best to survive.
I know from early news reports (before the loss of communications), that there was worldwide chaos. Many countries were cracking down with martial law. Many countries were seeing revolutions, complete with the beheadings of dictators and religious leaders. I can’t say that I was unhappy about that. I know that there were crackdowns in our own country, and the subsequent backlash. I tried to stay out of it. Just keep my head low and wait for the chaos to subside.
Then, everything went black. Not that we lost daylight, but we lost power. No more electricity. That meant no more TV, no more computer or radio, no more cellphone. No more news or entertainment. No more gasoline. No more fast food.
The final panic started. People were running out of food and water. Neighbors turned on neighbors. Mass bloodshed. My wife and I prepared early. We filled every container we could find, including bathtubs, with water for drinking. We spent what money and credit we had to prepare. We bought tons of dry goods. A deep freeze. Deep cycle batteries. Charcoal. Lumber to board up the house.
Guns were already hard to get, and I really didn’t want one, but felt I needed one, just in case. I’m glad I couldn’t get one, because the temptation to fight when I didn’t need to would be too great. And ammo ran out fast. Instead, we bought seeds and planting material, survival books, tools, oil and kerosene, and arrows…Lot and lots of arrows and supplies to make more.
When the crazies started coming out, we went beyond boarding up the house. We made it a truly defensible position, with razorwire along fences, and hand weapons stashed all around the property. We cut arrowslits in the wood covering the upstairs windows. I started cultivating wasp nests that were forming over doors and windows, smoking the wasps away then attaching string around the attachment points to the house. I actually got to pull one of those strings and drop a nest on top of some guys trying to break in through a boarded window. I’ll admit to some grim satisfaction in that. Another time, someone actually made it in the front door. I cut him down with a shortsword on the stairs and then boarded up the door. I turned away a gang of hoodlums hell bent on destruction by putting arrows in two of them. The whole group turned and fled.
Houses burned. People screamed in the night. Bullets flew until the ammo was gone. We kept quiet. We stayed in our own home, leaving only when absolutely necessary. We waited out the storm, and eventually, enough people had died that there weren’t enough left to be a constant threat. We could walk beyond the confines of our own backyard, though not far, and armed and ready.
This would be the new normal. Society had completely crumbled, and those of us that had survived now had to find a way to continue on with life, to deal with new threats, to build a new life. This is where the story begins.
It was getting hot already. I didn’t have a thermometer, but the temperature must be in the 90’s. I was stripped down to shorts and my light cotton shirt was unbuttoned. It would probably look strange, a middle aged man wearing workboots, cargo shorts and a long sleeved shirt with a Panama Jack woven hat. I didn’t really care. There was no one left to view me as strange. Only my wife saw me, and since she only wore moccasins, a long sleeved shirt, also unbuttoned, and a black leather collar, I figured I was fairly safe from ridicule.
I was looking at the garden, trying to figure out the best way to protect the plants from the searing sun. It would only get hotter, and you could no longer simply buy a pop-up cover for picnics or gardens. There were no stores left to buy them from. Perhaps I could find something left at the hardware store, and loot it the next time I went out. But, that would be a very bad idea. There were still plenty of wackos out there, and carrying a bulky item 2 miles in the open would just be asking to be killed. I would arrange some sort of tarp or something, instead.
I wished the water spigot still worked. There hadn’t been running water for months. I had plenty of water stored up in the rain barrels. Luckily, the drought had finally been broken by some heavy early summer storms. But a shower would be really nice. The humidity was a killer. I looked into the distance and saw more storm clouds. Maybe we could afford to use a little, as we couldn’t collect any more, and it looked like the rains weren’t over. I could have Cindy make us a bath.
I looked over at my wife. She was diligently collecting the early vegetables, checking each little strawberry, collecting only the ripest broccoli and spinach, leaving the rest to ripen. I got a small lift of excitement as she bent over to reach something deep in the garden, and I got a nice glimpse of her naked backside. I wanted some of that, and since we no longer had to hide our kinky interests, I could have some of that. Later. When it wasn’t so damned hot.
“Cindy,” I said. She turned and looked up at me, expectantly. “It looks like the rains aren’t over, so I think we can indulge in our water usage a bit. This afternoon, I want you to collect some water from each container and put it in the tub for a bath.”
Cindy smiled at me and replied “Yes Master.” I loved that. For years, we’d put this part of our lives on hold. We’d played out these Master/slave games early in our marriage, even having a little sideline business of making kinky leather toys to sell to the local scene. But, as we got older, work and depression from being out of work, our inability to have children, and everyday life in general just wore us down. We drifted further and further from our sexual relationship. The kinky side disappeared completely.
We’d only just recently brought it back into our lives, trying to spice up our relationship, when the collapse of society happened. But we remembered how much we enjoyed it, how comfortable it felt. And now, there was no society to hide it from. I could be in control, she could feel safe knowing that I was in control, and we could both truly be ourselves. Everything seemed more real now.
I walked over and filled a bucket half full from one of the water barrels. I poured it over my head, enjoying the cool water as it soaked my clothing. I filled it again and walked over to where my lovely little slave-wife was picking green beans.
“Put that away for a moment,” I said. She placed her basket full of veggies to the side and knelt expectantly, knowing what was to come. I slowly poured the cool water over her, soaking her long hair and thin cotton shirt. She moaned at the unexpected pleasure of the cool water covering her body.
“That’s nice,” she cooed.
I looked at the drenched woman at my feet. The soaked cotton shirt clung tightly to her large breasts, her nipples standing out through the thin, wet fabric. Bare skin was visible down her front, and I could see her belly and hairless pubis and thighs. “Yes, it is,” I replied.
I bent to one knee, took a handful of her hair at the back of her neck, and brought her close for a long kiss. My other hand roamed over her slick body, sliding between her thighs for just a moment before moving up to her breasts. My thumb played with one hard nipple.
It was hard to pull myself away from her. It was hard for her, as well. Her breathing was getting heavy and she had been lustfully rubbing against me. The passion of our renewed roles was growing every day, enhanced by the new reality of actual life and death struggles.
I looked beyond her at the ruined spot where the cantaloupe vines used to grow. They were destroyed when a man pushed through a small hole in our fence four days ago and tried to steal the far too small melons. He rushed to attack me when I came out, dragging the vines with him. I put an arrow in his belly and he fled back out through the hole in the fence. I found him dead a block away the next morning. The vines didn’t survive the encounter, either. We would miss those vines when fall and winter came.
I looked back at my wife. She was waiting for more. I put my arms around her and kissed her again, more gently this time. “After dinner,” I whispered, “Before our bath. I’ll make sure it’s worth the wait.”
“Yes, Master,” she answered. She wouldn’t question me. I’d make sure that the wait would be worth it.
Dinner had been a fine affair. There was a fresh garden salad with green beans and some baked duck that I had killed and cooked the day before. We had tea, and had even used some of the ice from the deep freeze as a special treat. We followed up the whole thing with the few fresh strawberries.
After dinner, we headed upstairs for some early evening fun. I made her wear leather cuffs that I attached together for most of the evening. There was lots of caressing and fondling, and some light spanking. I tied her hands to the headboard for some hardcore sex. I had to stop after her first orgasm to find a gag to keep her quiet so we wouldn’t draw unwanted attention. That only made her second orgasm that much more intense. We finished with her face down on the mattress, hands tied to the headboard. I had one hand on her very full breast with the other rubbing hard against her clitoris, as I pulled myself in deep and hard for rough anal sex. I made her wait on her final orgasm until I was ready for one, myself.
“Cum for me,” I commanded. She tensed and I released my seed deep in her ass. Wave after wave of orgasm took her body.
I lay on top of her for quite some time afterwards, exhausted. I shifted, and sweat rolled off of my chest onto her back. I nibbled her ear and whispered, “Did you enjoy that, my pet?”
She moaned her assent. I rolled off of her, and removed her gag. “Thank you, Master.”
I untied the rope that attached her to the headboard, and she slowly, sensuously slid further down on the bed. Without a word, she crawled over and between my legs, and began to suck my penis clean. For years, she had resisted oral sex. Now, she eagerly cleaned my cock with her mouth after anal sex. What a wonderful change had occurred in her over these past few months.
After a few blissful minutes, she stopped. “Would you like your bath now, Master?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
She just smiled and got to her knees on the floor. She lifted her hands for me to untie them, and then went to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth, sat on the toilet for a few minutes, cleaned her hands in the basin of water, and then collected our towels.
After she scrubbed my body, we spent what seemed like hours just lightly cleaning and caressing each other. There were light kisses, a little playful fondling, and small talk about building some outdoor furniture and playspace. It was decided that I should probably take her again in the morning, just to make sure that she was thoroughly bedded and in her place.
After a long soak, she dried me with a towel, and we settled into bed to snuggle as the thunderstorms slowly rolled into our area.
I awoke to a noise. Cindy sat up and asked “What’s wrong?”
“I heard something.”
“It’s just the storm,” she said, trying to get me to lie down again.
“No. It was something else.” I got up and pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and deck shoes. I reached for my bow, one of which is always nearby. “Probably some animal getting at our garden. Maybe we’ll have a raccoon skin in the morning.” But I didn’t really think so. I also took out the long knife from behind the bed, a scramasax, and handed it to Cindy. “Get the emergency flashlight and follow me down.”
She didn’t question, but now knew I didn’t think it was a raccoon or opossum. I went slowly down the stairs, listening for movement in the house, or a too strong breeze indicating a boarded window had been removed. Nothing moved.
I moved to the back door, and tried to peer outside through the small glass window, but couldn’t really see anything in the rain. Then I thought I saw movement near the garden. Damnit. Not again. Not in the middle of a nighttime rainstorm. We couldn’t afford to have the garden damaged. I checked the rest of the yard, but could see nothing.
I whispered, “When I open the door, I want you to follow me out. Keep the sax sheathed in your right hand, handle facing me. With your left, hold the flashlight far away from us, facing toward the garden. Got it?”
I looked at her as she nodded her assent. She looked pale and frightened. There were goosebumps all over her naked, trembling body.
I trusted her, though. I silently unlocked the deadbolt, and turned the handle to slightly open the door, hoping the rain masked the sound. Arrow knocked on the string, I put one shoulder against the door. “Now!” I whispered, and shoved the door open.
I was already against the wall with the bow drawn when the flashlight burst to life. It was very bright, and illuminated a wide area. It quickly found the garden, and I was ready to loose the arrow at the figure standing at the edge.
The woman had her hands in the vegetation and just froze. Her eyes were the size of saucers.
I held onto the bowstring, not shooting. I didn’t know why, at first. Then I quickly shouted. “On the ground. Hands on your head. Where are the others?”
I crossed quickly to the woman, who hesitated. “Please, don’t shoot!”
“On the ground, NOW! Where are the others?” I was almost on top of her, now. “Scan the yard!” I told Cindy.
The woman was on her hands and knees now. “What others?! There are no others!”
I put my foot on her back. “Hands on your head!” I commanded. As she did so, I lifted my bow and followed the flashlight beam around the yard. Rain blurred my vision, but I only saw the normal things in my yard, now casting weird shadows in the rain and wind and harsh beam of the flashlight. Rainbarrels, two big trees and one small one, compost heap, small forge. Shadows. Tree branches swayed in the wind, but no living thing moved.
She was crying and pleading in the wet grass. “Please! Don’t kill me! I’m sorry! I was so hungry! Please don’t kill me!”
Cindy was right next to me now, naked breasts pressed into my back, flashlight still scanning the yard and fence. “Point the light to the hole in the fence!” She did so. As I expected, the hole was much larger now, as one board had been broken off. That was the noise that woke me.
“On your hands and knees!” I commanded the woman. She did so, crying, but obeying. “Follow Cindy! Crawl to the door! No sudden moves!” I motioned to Cindy to move back to the door. She did so, a little too fast. The woman scurried to follow her. I followed her in, bow still drawn, still scanning the darkness in case another person was lying in wait.
When we stepped inside, I lowered my bow and closed the door with my right hand. “Give me the light. Lock the door,” I commanded Cindy.
When the door was locked, I looked closer at the woman. She was middle aged, large frame but not fat. In fact, it looked like she hadn’t been eating too well. Not surprising. Her soaked clothes were filthy and ripped. She wore a torn white blouse, sneakers, and shorts that had seen better days. It didn’t look like she had any weapons.
“Lay down on your stomach, hands crossed behind your back.” She was crying heavily, but did as I commanded.
“Please don’t kill me! I didn’t hurt anything. Please!” she blubbered.
“Shut up!” I said. “Cindy, take the light.” I set the bow down, put my left hand over both of her wrists at the small of her back, put my right knee lightly on her ribcage, and with my right hand, touched the point of my arrow to the base of her neck.
“Oh God! OhGod!please don’t killme please don’tkillmepleas…”
“Shut up or I’ll cut your throat right now!” She started whimpering. “Do you want to live?”
“Yes! Yes! I’ll do whatever you want! I want to live! Please don’t…”
“Then. Shut. Up. Don’t move.” Then to Cindy, “Take the flashlight upstairs. Get me some rope. Hurry.”
“OK,” and she was off, leaving us in darkness. I could feel the body trembling beneath me. The point of my arrow was still touching the base of her neck. She didn’t move or speak. I listened for the sounds of other people. Nothing.
Soon, Cindy returned, a length of rope from our sexplay in her hand.
“Drop it here,” I said. “Hold the light up high. Hold the arrow.” She took it. I moved it down the woman’s back, over her lungs. “If she moves, drive it through her ribs. Understand?”
Cindy nodded, but I don’t know that she could do it. In the heat of the moment fighting off an attacker, probably. Against an unarmed person lying on the ground, I’m not sure.
But the woman didn’t move. She was like a stone. I wrapped a length of rope about one wrist, and brought it up behind her head. I brought the other wrist up behind her neck, and soon both hands were tied securely, then the rope wrapped about her neck. I made a quick knot to secure the whole thing. The bondage books had paid off. Then I took the long end and wrapped it about her head, between her teeth and pulled it tight, forming an effective gag. She could no longer really be a threat.
I took the arrow from Cindy’s hand. She held it in a death grip. “Go light a couple of candles, my pet.” I said in what I hoped was a soothing voice. I stroked her face, and she relaxed, a little.
“Yes, Master,” she replied. Then she went to the kitchen table and lit the candle that we keep there. There was a warm glow filling the room. She lit another.
“Get up,” I told the girl. I picked up the blade that Cindy had left on the carpet, and went to the kitchen table, using the rope as a kind of leash. “Kneel there,” I said, indicating a place on the tile floor with my sheathed scramasax. She did so.
I sat down and considered the problem. What to do now? Why didn’t I kill her when I first saw her? She was on my property, stealing my food. She brought me and Cindy out into a potentially deadly situation. I killed the last guy that did that. Was it because she was a woman? Because she didn’t attack? Because there might have been others lurking in the dark and I wouldn’t have an arrow for them? If that were the case, I would have had the blade. And when I saw there weren’t any others, why didn’t I do it then?
Cindy was back, holding a hurricane lamp. She had turned off the flashlight. She no longer looked frightened, but was now looking slightly uncomfortable. Because we had an intruder in our home? Or because she was still completely nude, save for the leather collar? I had more important things to worry about. I motioned for her to kneel down where the other woman couldn’t see her. She could stay nude. I wanted her nearby. Besides, what was this other woman going to say? She’d say “Please don’t kill me”, that’s what she’d say. Well, she would if she weren’t currently gagged and tied up.
What to do now? I looked her in the eye. “You still want to live?” I asked. She nodded emphatically.
“Good. Then do exactly as I say. I’m going to remove the rope from your mouth. I want you to stay quiet and not say anything, except to answer my questions. ONLY answer my questions. Nothing else. Do you understand?”
She nodded again. I removed the rope so that she could speak.
“Why were you in my backyard?” I ask.
“I was hungry.”
“You were hungry? So you steal from me? Instead of coming to us in the daylight and asking for something to eat, you break into my property in the middle of the night and steal from me?”
Nothing. She just looks down, trying not to cry. “Answer me, bitch!”
“Yes.” There is genuine fear in her eyes.
“How did you know there was a garden there?”
“I…I…There’s the wire on the fence. The house was boarded up. I was looking for some food, and a place to hide. I looked over the fence to see what was there.”
“You were wandering around in the rain in the middle of the night, looked over a wood and razorwire fence and saw a garden in complete darkness, then just happened to find the only weak point in the fence?”
“No! I saw it yesterday! From the alley. I looked for a way in and waited for night. I looked through the big garbage cans over by the businesses, then came back here when I thought it was safe.”
“You skulked around, looking for a way to sneak in, then broke my fence in the middle of the night to steal our food? You’re a thief.”
“No! I was just hungry! I just want…”
“Yes! You’re a thief! If you weren’t a thief, you would have asked, offered to barter. Instead, you broke my fence and tried to take our food without asking.”
“I don’t have anything to trade! You might’ve killed me!” She nearly screamed.
I pulled the heavy knife out of its sheath and held the point towards her throat. She instinctively moved backwards.
“That wasn’t a question, and you didn’t have permission to speak.” My voice was icy cold. “Now that I’ve caught you stealing, and it could have caused us starvation, what makes you think I won’t kill you now?”
She whimpered. “Please,” she begged. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Let me make it right. Please don’t kill me. I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” She bit her lip.
I was getting nowhere with this. I put the rope back in her mouth. I was getting angry. I was scared and hadn’t had enough sleep. But I was wide awake, now. I was soaked and dripping water on my kitchen floor, dressed in boxer shorts and a pair of deck shoes with no socks.
I looked at Cindy. “What do you think?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. There was confusion in her voice, and…sadness, maybe?
“If we let her go, then she’s gotten away with it. She knows we have a garden, now she knows the inside of our home and our defenses. If she’s working with someone, they’ll have a big advantage. We’d be in danger. Maybe we should just kill her and get it over with,” I explain.
The woman was shaking her head violently and trying to speak around the rope gag, but it wasn’t making any sense. I held the knife towards her again, and put my finger over my lips. She immediately stopped thrashing and making noise.
“What if she’s alone?” asked Cindy. “Can we really kill someone for trying to find something to eat?”
“Yes,” I reply. “If she’s a threat to us, regardless of her motives.”
The woman was breathing heavy and desperately wanting to talk. Her life was on the line, and she knew it.
I held my knife near her again. “Do you remember our deal? You only speak to answer my questions.”
Her eyes were large. She nodded her head slowly, so I removed the rope gag. She waited for me to speak.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Demi,” was the reply.
“Really? Demi?? Geez. Tell me, Demi, what do you think we should do?”
“Please. I’m alone, I swear. I’m no threat. You could just let me go. I’ll never come back. I promise.”
“Yeah. And who, or what, might see you leave, might guess that we’re here. You said you’d do anything if we let you live. What will you tell the next person who captures you? Would you give us up to save yourself when you’re caught by some roaming gang?”
There were tears in her eyes. She knew that she didn’t have a good argument. There was no way that I could just let her go.
“Please,” she begged. “I’ll do anything.”
I was done with this. This was getting us nowhere. I didn’t really want to kill her. I can kill without a problem, but killing an unarmed woman for stealing food wasn’t in my nature. But I couldn’t very well let her go, either. Let her go, and we’d be in danger, no matter how sincere she was. And I was wet. I was awake in the middle of the night. And my fence was broken. Who knows what damage she might have done to the garden, our main source of food. I was really pissed off, and I was no closer to a solution than when I first woke up.
I stood up and opened the door to the garage. I grabbed a candle and the make-shift leash and dragged the thief into the garage. Cindy followed with the lamp.
Inside the mostly open garage, I found what I was looking for…the cable dangling from a pulley attached to a support beam. We were converting this area into a play area before the collapse. Now, the garage mostly held tools and makeshift weaponry. But the cable and pulley were still there.
I clipped the dangling cable to the bonds holding the thief’s hands together, and undid the knot around her throat. Then I went to the wall and started ratcheting the cable up until her arms were stretched tight over her head, and she was just on her tiptoes. I walked back into the kitchen, leaving her in darkness.
“Go upstairs,” I told Cindy. “Bring me my robe and a better gag. And the handcuffs.”
She nodded and left without a word. I went to the study and pulled my four foot signal whip from its place on the wall. I walked back to the garage with a singular purpose, propping the door open.
When I entered, the woman turned toward me, but it must have taken her eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden light. I set the candle and whip on a worktable, and walked around the woman. “Demi, my girl,” I said as I reached up to the collar of her blouse, “you have been a very bad girl. You’ve caused no end of problems tonight.”
I was just ripping the blouse away from her back when Cindy entered with the much brighter lamp, and the items I had requested. I pulled out the knife and started to cut away at her bra straps. She started to panic.
“There is one tried and true way of dealing with thieves that I know of, “I stated, as I pulled her shorts down to her ankles. I slipped the knife between her skin and the thin fabric of her panties and cut the undergarments away. She was in full panic mode, now. I was angry. I was determined to dispense some kind of justice.
I looked at what my wife had brought. There were three different gags in her hands. I took a soft cloth gag and a soft rubber bridle bit. “Open up,” I said as I removed the rope gag.
“Please! I’ll d…”
I shoved the cloth into her mouth, followed immediately by the soft bit, which I buckled behind her head. “…do anything. Yeah, you’ve said that once or twice,” I said coldly.
I took the whip from the table and uncoiled it. When she recognized what was about to happen, her eyes went wide and she screamed into her gag. Then I struck. Her body arched and she screamed for real.
I know how to control a whip. I didn’t pop it, I let it lay full length across her back. I was angry, but I maintained control, not putting too much force into the blow. I struck again, this time laying an angry red welt across her buttocks and lower back. She danced and jerked. Her body was now facing me. The third blow wrapped around her side, the popper landing between her shoulder blades.
Slowly, I worked the whip over the thief’s naked body. She strained her body and wept openly. She stopped trying to talk. She probably lost all thought in the pain. She tried, but couldn’t avoid the lash as it struck. Finally, she just gave in and tried to accept it, her body jerking when the whip landed on her skin.
Fifteen lashes were struck, mostly on her back, buttocks and thighs. Three had wrapped around, one finding her belly, one her hip and one across both thighs in the front. When I was finished, she sagged in her bonds, weeping.
I left the garage, leaving her dangling from the cable. Cindy followed me out. As I sat on a wooden chair, still seething, Cindy laid her head in my lap and kissed my fingers. We sat like that for minutes, neither of us speaking, the only sounds being muted sobs coming from the garage. I noticed that I was still holding the whip, so I coiled it and set it on the table.
“So, what now?” I asked.
“That’s up to you…Master.” She looked so innocent sitting at my knees, her head resting on my thigh. She was still holding my robe and the other items I requested.
I sat quietly for a few more minutes. “I think maybe she’s earned a bite,” I said. Cindy quietly got up and held open my robe for me. I slipped it on. As I tied the knot around my waist, Cindy gathered some green beans and broccoli together on a plastic platter. Then she knelt before me, holding the platter up to me. She was still completely naked, kneeling on the floor with her legs slightly open and her eyes down. The gesture was sincere and powerful. She was acknowledging that I was in complete control. I felt better about myself and what I was doing, though I was still confused. But this is my role.
I picked up the coiled whip and walked back to the naked girl weeping in my garage. I put my hand in her hair and lifted her eyes to mine. Through the tears, there was fear but also something like resignation, or perhaps remorse.
“Was it worth it?” I asked, but immediately knew this was wrong. “Are you still hungry?” I add. She nodded lightly, my hand still in her hair. I unbuckle the bit and remove it from her mouth, along with the softer gag. “Kiss the whip,” I say and hold the coils to her lips. Softly, delicately, she kisses the braided leather, making no noise and looking directly into my eyes.
I moved the whip away from her lips and set it aside. Cindy is near my feet, holding the tray of green vegetables. I take a piece of broccoli and lift it to the girl’s lips. Cautiously, she takes it from my fingers, then quickly chews and swallows. I lift a green bean, and it is taken with less trepidation. Within minutes, she has taken the entire small tray of veggies from my fingers.
When it is empty, I tell her, “It’s all gone. Now, open your mouth.”
“Thank you,” she says, then opens her mouth for the gag.
After attaching the buckle for the gag, I inspect her body. It’s crisscrossed in angry welts. It will be heavily bruised tomorrow. Her once strong frame is obviously weak from recent malnutrition.
I lower the cable and she sinks to the ground. When I start to untie her hands, she makes no move to resist or escape. I lower her hands behind her back and almost casually confine them in the handcuffs. With one piece of rope, I make a slip knot, placing the loop around the girl’s neck. The working end, I attach to the handcuffs with no slack. I take a very short piece of the standing end and guide the girl to the ground. I then attach it to the leg of a heavy worktable.
“Don’t fight the restraints,” I tell her. “Move too far from the bench, and you will choke yourself. Pull too hard with your hands, and you will strangle yourself to death. Don’t go anywhere. Have a good night.”
With that, I walk away towards the kitchen. The nude and broken body of the hungry girl lay limp and unmoving on the floor. Cindy follows me out, leaving the girl in darkness.
“What to do now?” I ask. Now that the fear and anger were through, I almost felt pity for the girl.
“Master…maybe you could blindfold her and lead her out, far away where she couldn’t find her way back.”
“Look at her,” I glance back into the dark garage, seeing the unmoving mass on the floor. “What would she do? She’s too weak, and lost. She obviously doesn’t know how to care for herself in this world. She’d die of dehydration. Or be torn apart by gangs or packs of dogs. She can’t last. It would be more humane to just kill her here, and get it over with.”
Cindy was silent. She knew I was right. I didn’t want to be right.
“You should get some sleep, Master. Maybe you’ll think of something by morning.”
I stood up, blowing out the candles and taking the lamp with me. Cindy followed. I thought I heard muffled sobbing from the garage. Had she heard us talking about her? It wouldn’t matter, in the end.
I make my way back to the bedroom, knowing that my knots and prisoner are secure. Cindy massages my back silently until I fall asleep.
I woke to the sensation of Cindy’s mouth sucking and caressing my quickly stiffening penis. I moaned and slowly rolled onto my back, her mouth never losing contact. She was learning to master the art of felatio, and I loved every moment of it it.
“Good morning, Master,” she said as she caressed my testicles with her hand before returning her mouth to my cock. She licked around the head of my penis, before taking the shaft in deep.
“Mmmm…what brought this on, pet?”
She moved up to kiss my belly, my cock sliding between her breasts. She squeezed them together, giving me a new pleasure. “It was decided last night during your bath that you should enjoy me again this morning, remember?”
I did remember. It was a pleasant memory.
Her breasts were squeezed tightly around my cock, and she undulated up and down, the weight of her body pushing down on me. She sucked my nipple for a moment before slowly easing back down. “Unless you’d prefer to enjoy your new slave, instead.” She slid down and took my member in her mouth again, eager and desperate.
New slave? What…? HOLY FUCK! The girl from the garden! The one tied in my garage! I started to sit up.
“Master? Don’t you like this?”
“What?! No. Yes. This is wonderful. But…” She went back down on me before lifting her head again to speak.
“She’s secure, Master. Your knots always hold. You have plenty of time to enjoy me…any way you’d like. Unless you want her, instead. I’ll understand.”
No she wouldn’t. I didn’t understand. What was she saying?
“What are you talking about? She’s a thief, not a slave. I couldn’t…”
She looked up at me, eyes wide, my cock still in her mouth. I laid down again for a moment. She came back up to my belly, breasts caressing my penis again.
“You captured her. You have every right. You can’t let her go. You were right when you said that. But you don’t want to kill her. I don’t want you to kill her. I don’t like it, but it’s the only other option.”
She was right, I knew. It was the only safe option. And multiple slaves was always my fantasy. She knew that, too. She was doing this for me. I wasn’t so sure, though.
“It’s not right. It’s not right to just enslave another human being.”
“You enslaved me.”
“You agreed to it. It was your…our fantasy.”
“The world has changed. You know it. You killed a man just a few days ago for doing the exact same thing she did. And you didn’t think it was wrong. You tied her up, stripped her. You whipped her and then made her kiss your whip. That was no accident. It’s what you make me do. You kept her bound, naked in the garage. She’s your slave, now. She’s your responsibility. Besides, she’ll agree to it, just like I did.”
“What makes you think that? Why would she choose a life of slavery to a man she doesn’t know? One who beat and abused her the first time they met?”
“What other choice does she have? You could kill her if she refuses. If you turn her out, she’ll die soon enough. You said that, too, and you were right. And she knows it. She deserved that beating, and more. But instead, you fed her. You showed kindness.” A moment’s silence. “Besides, what women wouldn’t want to be chained to your bed? Especially in times like these. You’re so strong and brave, Master.” Her mouth went again to my cock. I was being manipulated, and I knew it.
My head was swimming. She was right. It was weird, but she was right. The world was changed. There were no laws. Morality is what we make it. And this would be the only way that we could remain safe, and the girl…Demi…would survive.
Cindy’s mouth was distracting me. Maybe that was her intention. I was hard. Aroused. She was working her mouth furiously up and down the length of my shaft. I had to slow that down. I wanted to make this last. I grabbed her hair and pulled her up before I lost control. She looked at me, her eyes wet.
“Do you want me, Master? Or do you want her, right now? I’ll do whatever you want. I belong to you, now. Only you.”
I held her. “You. I want you. That was the deal. In the bath. I would take you this morning.”
“Thank you, Master!” She nuzzled my side. “I love you.” I heard what could only be happy weeping. Back down she went. Then back up. “Master?”
“Will you fuck me in the ass? Like you did last night? I know you like it. It makes me feel…like I completely belong to you. Like you totally control me. It makes me feel safe. It makes me feel like I’m giving you something that you really want. I like that. Please?”
I feel a wry smile cross my lips. “I suppose you deserve a little reward.”
A smile. “Thank you, Master.” She slid down on her belly next to me.
“Uh-uh. No you don’t. Not like that. Climb on top of me. I want to look at you while I fuck you.”
These stories are excellent, Leatherchain. The first one was very erotic, I loved the day-to-day dynamic that was implied, between master and slaves. The tenderness and affection, the pleasure he found in owning his slaves, physical and emotional pleasure. And their contentment and submission were very arousing too. I love when slaves yield, it is one of the most powerful thrills of the slave experience. True, real, lasting surrender to another's will.
Of course, it was great to see the Master was yet a disciplinarian. He was tender but far from weak. I love a Master who has lines that must never be crossed and high expectations for propriety. I love protocols imposed on slaves.
Your post-apocalyptic tale was very captivating in the beginning, the set up was excellent. And then, when Demi is captured... wow, bondage arranged for choking has been a long-time fetish of mine. I loved how he trussed her up for the night, with the noose!
And most of all, what I loved was her fear... it is an integral part of my slavery fantasies that my enslavement be terrifying, so it struck me deep. Really, I believe it's better for the slave in the long-run if she is terrorized at the beginning of her captivity, as this would set up a greater contrast with the eventual trust and kindness, even affection, that her master will give her in reward for her submission. That is normally what happens to me in my fantasies.
I love how she yielded and surrender to fear. How she went quiet when he put the arrow to her. How she behaved as docile as a dove throughout the ordeal. I fantasize of surrendering instantly too, suffocated by terror and dread.
Here's a short bit that never went anywhere. It doesn't tie into anything. But the intro is nice, I think. If anyone wants to take it up and run with it, feel free.
When I heard that I had inherited my uncle’s “estate”, I was surprised and excited. To be perfectly honest, I had almost completely forgotten that my Uncle Timothy even existed. I had only met him very briefly, as a child. My father rarely spoke of him, and since his passing over a decade ago, there had been no contact between us of any kind. I had, in short, forgotten his very existence.
Now, I was his sole heir and beneficiary. I knew nothing about him, and all of his funeral arrangements and financials had been taken care of by his lawyers before I was even contacted. I was told that it took a week to even locate me, by which time the man was buried, and his bills and debts paid in full.
Now I was being driven to his home (now my property), escorted by a lawyer. Though he tried to forewarn me, I was still a bit disappointed as we drove up. I didn’t expect a palatial mansion, but the rundown farmhouse on the overgrown piece of property was far less than what my mind had conceived.
I had taken a week’s leave from my small shop, leaving it in the care of a friend. I had booked passage here, and even paid extra to bring both of my slavegirls along. Now, I was wondering if it was worth it. Worse yet, I wondered how much it might cost me just to get out from under the property and contents. There were going to be hidden costs involved, I just knew it.
I made mental notes of the basic layout of the small property as we drove through the gate. The car bounced as we drove over the pipe cattle-guard. There was dust in the air from the dirt driveway, and tall grass and neglected trees filled with vines encroached from both sides as we pulled up to the door. The wooden steps creaked and the porch desperately needed a new coat of paint. The door seemed solid, though, as the lawyer turned the key to unlock it, then placed the single key in my hand.
I looked back to the car, wondering if maybe I wanted to just get back in and leave. My girls were pulling my suitcases from the trunk. Too late now. I took the door handle and turned it.
Inside was cooler and more spacious than I expected. All of the walls were covered in dark wood with a few animal heads hanging from them. There was a small fireplace. The furnishings were of wood and well worn leather. I was relieved to see a large bookcase along one wall.
Near the door, six somewhat shabby naked slavegirls knelt on the floor, knees spread and hands behind their backs. They put their heads to the floor as we entered.
“The home and property are completely paid for”, said Mr. Reynolds, the lawyer and executor of my Uncle’s will. “It’s all yours, outright. There is also a barn, a truck, and a tractor. Total acreage is 87 acres, including the house and yard. All of the contents now belong to you, as well. Anything that didn’t belong to your uncle outright has either been returned or payment made. The girls, of course, are also chattel, and so pass on to you. There are also some investments that you can decide on, at your convenience, and we’ve already discussed the actual money. Would you like me to show you around?”
“Yes, thank you. It’s all still a bit much to take in,” I reply. We step past the girls and he walks me around the house showing me the kitchen, bathrooms and bedrooms like I was a potential client looking to buy what already belonged to me. As we made it back to the living area, my own two girls had managed to drag my suitcases inside, and were kneeling on the rug in the center of the room.
Sensing my fatigue, Reynolds asked “Do you want me to show you the rest of the property, or would you prefer to explore it on your own?”
“If you don’t mind, I’m feeling a bit drained. Jetlag, I guess. I really think I’d rather take my time and just explore it all on my own.”
“I understand completely. It can be a bit much. Sit down. Relax. Make yourself at home. It’s yours now, after all. If you have any questions or need anything at all, please, give me a call. You have my number.”
I nodded and walked him to the door. We shook hands and I watched him climb into his big sedan and drive away down the driveway and turn onto the main road. I was alone in my new house.
Well, I wasn’t actually alone. There were the girls. But they don’t really count. I slumped into a large armchair. It was comfy. This might not be so bad, after all. I looked at my two girls and thought about sending them to unpack my clothes. I’d have to get up and show them the Master’s Bedroom. I started to rise then realized that the other girls were still kneeling, head to floor. They hadn’t been given permission to rise. They were now my girls, as well.
I stood and walked to them to take a closer look. They were a mismatched group. There were a variety of body shapes, hair colors, and skin tones. One looked young and skinny, with olive skin and red hair that couldn’t be natural. There was a strawberry blonde of more medium build and age. Next to her was another redhead of medium build, but with a larger ass. There was a large brunette with curly brown hair that I hoped was the cook. Beside her was another skinny youth, this one with dark hair and light brown skin, and finally a blonde of firm proportion that looked to be the oldest of the group, probably in her mid thirties. The only thing that these girls had in common were their collars, and the fact that they were all naked with their heads down, legs spread, and their asses in the air.
You tell me. I'm currently just posting random things that I've written over the years. I want to do a little editing before posting the more intricate stuff. Can't fit it all within the 20000 word limit on posts. Need to figure out how to format them. And what is worth posting.
I relax my grip on the bar as we stop, standing in place. The straps leading from the grip pole to the sledge remain straight, but not taut. We can rest a few minutes before resuming our task of hauling the rocks from the field uphill to the village.
Other girls struggle by, carrying rocks to the sledge. Even though the morning weather is still cool, I can feel sweat running down my back and gathering under my breasts. Pulling the sledge isn’t too hard, but the exertion still causes me to build up a sweat. This will be our second trip of the morning, and my body is still getting used to the strain.
I wonder if the other girls sweat and strain like I do. I doubt it. They aren’t as big as I am. I sneak a peek at the girl to my right. She is only inches away, close enough to touch, if we were allowed. She is older than I am, with just a touch of pre-mature grey starting at her temples. It shows prominently, as her dark hair is in a braid falling forward past her collar and over her shoulder. Though older, I think she is pretty. She has big, muscular legs and buttocks, perfect for this task. Still, she breathes heavily around the wooden gag-bit in her mouth, and her naked breasts heave as she breathes. I can’t see the two girls behind us without turning my head. I won’t do that.
Our Master walks slowly into view. I make sure to keep my eyes low, but I follow his movement. He moves slowly, but with self assurance, almost lazy, but with determined purpose. It’s hard to describe, but mesmerizing to watch. He moves like a great beast, casually but seemingly ready to pounce at any moment. My Master is hard to pin down. He seems a kind enough man, though in truth, I haven’t spent enough time under his direct supervision to know for sure.
I say ‘my Master’, but technically we are communal property and belong to all of the men of the village. Still, I think of him as ‘my Master’. He is an elected chieftain of the village, so can claim me as well as any. Of course, he has his own private slaves, but all of the communal slavegirls are his to command. And he is the one who paid for me. I was purchased with a lot of 17 other girls, but he chose us. He gave the coins to the slavetrader who sold us. It was his feet that I kissed as he placed the rope coffle around my neck, marking us as his property. And it is he that I most often dream about serving as I lay bound at night with the other field slaves.
My Master walks towards us. There hasn’t been time enough for the other slaves to fill the sledge, so I know that he is not going to lead us back up the hill. I feel nervous and hope that he is in a good mood. He seems a kind Master, but even a kind man can sometimes be in a foul mood, especially if he did not sleep well, or his breakfast didn’t sit right, or one of his slavegirls was not properly pleasing. I did not wish to feel his wrath.
He stops beside the slave to my right. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him reach out and caress her face. He steps closer, his body touching hers. He weighs and squeezes her breasts, playing with them. My pulse quickens as he begins to explore her body. I cannot see his hands, but I can hear her reactions, small gasps and whimpers. Her bare left arm presses against my right, and I can feel her body convulse one time.
Then, he steps to his right, reaches up, and squeezes my right breast. Oh Master! Master! My nipple gets hard and swollen, and he rolls it between his finger and thumb with practiced elegance before squeezing and kneading the whole breast again. His left hand is doing the same to the left breast of the other slave, enjoying and comparing them. I can’t believe that he is touching me! Is he actually choosing one of us for some mid-morning pleasure? Pick me! Please, Master! Pick me!
Now, both of his hands are on me! Both of my nipples are hard as stones as he fondles my breasts. I am wet between my legs and it’s hard to breathe. My world turns upside down as he lifts my chin and looks into my eyes. He is rugged of feature. His nose is large and wide and has been broken and healed. He needs a shave. He is beautiful. His eyes are half closed, but intense, a deep grey that penetrates my very being to its core and makes me feel weak before him. They are calm and stormy, powerful and perhaps a little sad. Let me soothe your sadness, Master, if only for a little while.
He strokes the back of his hand over my cheek and brushes my hair behind my ear. Paradise. He fondles my earlobe and my breath catches in my throat and butterflies do battle in my stomach. I stare at him, not able nor allowed to look away, as his hand trails down my neck and throat, over the collar that proclaims me his property. I could be nothing else.
Now his hands are back on my breasts, lifting and weighing them, thumbs lazily tracing the circles of my aureolas, rubbing over my hard nipples as the sea crashes against rocks in my blood. I fall ever deeper into his eyes. Master! Master, please!
I can hear whimpering, gurgling noises and realize that they are coming from me. I had not liked the wooden bit strapped tight in my mouth, nor understood its purpose other than to remind me that I am a work-animal, but now I am thankful for it. It keeps me from breaking rules and speaking without permission. Without it, I would scream my love and loyalty and passion, begging to be touched, sobbing my need in an incoherent babbling that I could not control.
I have no control over my body or mind. He does. I am frozen, stone still, unable to move, until he decides to move me. He controls every fiber of my being with his touch and his eyes. I am his, totally. There is no one else in the world except for him and me. Me, sobbing and begging at his feet while he towers above me, alone in my soul, as I stare into his eyes and he touches me as he likes.
He is moving now, to my side, his left hand still on me. Don’t move your head to look at him, stupid girl! Hold position. He hasn’t given you permission to move. Please, Master! Please let me look at you! I stare at the world before me: the field, the trees beyond, the naked slavegirls toiling in the sun, and the few men guarding over them. I see none of it. My world is bright and warm and pulsing, and there is no one but him.
He is at my side, and his right hand traces patterns up and down my back as his left takes both breasts together. His hand trails down and squeezes my ass cheeks, caressing them. There is a dull, throbbing sweet ache as my nipples are squeezed together in his left hand. His thumb plays with a nipple and I stop breathing, my hands gripping the sledge pole tight.
He pulls his head close to mine, and sniffs the skin of my neck. Somehow, my head is to the side and my neck exposed to him. His nose touches my ear, and the stiff hair of his short beard scratches at the exposed flesh of my neck. My breath is ragged. I struggle to stay upright. Don’t faint! Don’t faint! Oh please, Master! Please, please, please, please, please…
His head is no longer close. I open my eyes. When did I close my eyes? Blood rushes to my nipples and my breasts throb when he releases a nipple that I did not realize he had been pinching. His hand travels down my stomach, which quivers and spasms uncontrollably. Please! I feel his palm cover my belly, his fingers touching the smooth, bare skin of my pubis. My asscheeks squeeze involuntarily, trapping the hand that had been exploring their interior, the finger that had been rubbing my anus.
His hand slides down over my pussy. Oh please, Master! My breath is short. I can’t get enough air. Two fingers slide between my labia, slick with the juices of my need to serve. MASTER! They find my clitoris, rubbing around it, stroking back and forth, controlling it. Controlling me. MASTER! MASTER!MASTERMASTER! And then they enter me, filling me. MAAAAASSTERRRRRR!
My world turns red. All I see is throbbing! All I feel is pleasure! My Master’s two fingers stroke inside of me, my labia open, my clitoris throbbing against the palm of his hand. AaaaAAAAHHHhhh! I need release! It’s been so long! Don’t cum! You haven’t been given permission to orgasm! Please, Master! Pleeeaaase!
His fingers are sliding out. NOoohoho! Master, please! They slide over and around my clit AAAaaaahhhhhh!, and they are gone. My world is empty.
His hand is under my chin, two wet fingers and a strong thumb turning my face to look at him. I want to fall into his gaze again, to drown in his presence. A thick finger pumps twice in my anus and is removed, two knuckles sliding out of my gripping rectum and trailing up to the cleft above my butt. When did he do that? How did I not notice?
He is gazing at me. I want to look down, but can’t. I am crying. His hand is rubbing and squeezing my ass reassuringly. He is so generous and kind and powerful. He is everything I could ever want in a Master, and I am not good enough for him. I am a greedy and selfish slave. This whole time he gave me, a mere slave, the greatest pleasure, and not once did I think of how best to please him. I am ashamed. I want to be more for him. I am numb.
And then he smiles at me. It is a half-smile, warm and generous. There is a light in his eyes, and I know that he is not displeased. Oh, thank you, Master! Thank you! He fondles a breast and a buttock at the same time, and then steps over the leather strap attaching the pole to the sledge. My head already turned, I watch him as far as I can. I feel his hand gently sliding across both of my buttocks as he walks by, and then he is gone.
I stand, silent and unmoving, lost in the memory of my Master’s touch. In the distance, a sharp slap and the cry of a girl being struck brings me back to reality. I turn my head forward and hear the whip fall twice more. My Master is behind me now, touching the other two girls.
What was I thinking? What was I hoping for? Did I really believe that my Master would choose me, even for just a mid-morning tryst? He is a CHIEFTAIN! He has girls that are trained to his specific desires. For anything else, he can choose from dozens of the communal slaves. If he wanted the use of another man’s slavegirl, I doubt any of the men of the village would deny him.
So why did I believe, for even a moment, that he might choose me? I’m plain. The slave next to me is prettier than me, and she isn’t good enough for Master. The girls behind me are prettier, younger, their flesh tighter.
If Master chooses one of us pulling the sledge, it will be one, or both, of them. I can hear them reacting to his touch, the same as me, the same as the slave to my right. Any girl would act the same. He gave me no special attention. He just wanted to check all of his options. It is his right.
Still, he did touch me. In those few moments, he gave me the greatest of pleasures. And he smiled at me! I will hold that memory till the end of my days. I don’t know if it was humour, or if he enjoyed the way I look or reacted. It doesn’t matter. My Master smiled. At me. In some small way, I gave him pleasure, and that is all that a girl can hope for.
At the very least, I did not displease him. I could be screaming like the slut in the field being whipped. I have no reason to be unhappy. To the contrary, I should feel overjoyed.
My work isn’t too hard. My Master is not cruel. My Master touched me, deeply and sexually. I gave him some pleasure, and even made him smile. And I will get to listen to him enjoy the girls behind me while I rest. I truly hope he enjoys them. My Master deserves that.
I can imagine what that will be like. I can hear them now, but it will be so much better when he actually puts them to their purpose. They will be much louder, and I will be able to imagine what they are feeling. And I hope he makes noise. I’ve never been close enough to hear my Master as he takes a slave, but I hope that he grunts, or slaps flesh, or even talks, Please talk, Master, telling them what to do or what he will do to them.
Oh, my Master! I’m getting wet again. This is so exciting. So, arousing. I can’t help it. The thought of my Master fucking a girl so close to me It could have been me is too much to contain. Even though I am jealous, I know I will listen intently, enjoying the sound, enjoying the feel of the tether lines getting taut and slack as the bodies strain against the sledge draw pole.
I will probably commit the experience to memory. I won’t be able to get it out of my head. Imagine that it is you in his grasp. You giving him pleasure with your body. Oooohhh! It will repeat in my head, over and over, with the vivid images of sweaty bodies enjoined, my Master controlling her completely Controlling you.When you see it, it will be you over the sound of skin slapping together, moans and grunts.
I’m in need. I’m thankful once again for the wooden gag-bit. And now I am thankful for the pole that I grip, giving my hands a job, keeping me from touching myself. I can hear the slave next to me moaning and whimpering. She is like me, another slut in need, dreaming of our Master’s touch.
It won’t last. The scene is just too much. I can barely contain the thought. I’m still wimpering. And he hasn’t even started yet. It’s only been brief moments since his hands left my body. Control yourself! I must finish the days work. I can’t! I must be a good girl for my Master.
I will control myself. For my Master. As long as I can. But I know that tonight, in the dark, my need will overpower my will. I will break. Stuck between the naked, sweaty bodies of the other bound slavegirls, Perhaps next to the girl my Master uses I will touch myself in the dark. I will touch my breasts, my belly. I will suck my fingers, and imagine my Master. I will use them to touch my clitoris, to penetrate my vagina, perhaps even my anus, as my Master did. I will remember his touch, and I will lose the battle to control my need. I am weak, and I know it. I am a slave. I will break the rules and orgasm without permission, and I only hope that I am quiet enough to not attract the attention of a man or the ire of a girl who will tell a man. It will be worth it. The whipping will be worth it.
Perhaps the girl next to me will do the same. How could she not? I want to look at her, to see her as desperate as me. Maybe she will be coffled next to me. Girls who work together are often coffled together at night, as a convenience to our Masters. Then I could see her need, watch her touch herself, as I will surely do. Perhaps...
I adjust my tongue on the bit and swallow. Perhaps...we could touch each other. I have seen other girls couple at night. I have never felt the desire to do so myself, but I have never felt the overwhelming sexual need that I do right now. It would not be the same as serving a man, but maybe we can help relieve each other. Sometimes the night guards will even allow it, openly. And she is so pretty.
I steel my resolve and gather my courage. Tonight in the coffle, under cover of darkness, if she is next to me, Please be next me I will do it. YES! I will reach out and touch her. If she will allow, I will touch her as our Master touched both of us. I can imagine the taste of her mouth, the feel of her hand on m...
Strong hands are on me. Could he know my thoughts? What was I thinking?!
My Master’s hands are on my hips. He pulls in close. I can feel the rough texture of his trousers against by buttocks. A bulge of linen is between my asscheeks. Is that...?
Fingers grip the hair at the base of my neck, and I am bent forward, my head cocked upward to stare out at the field. I see nothing. And then I feel my Master’s other hand reach down to the bulge of linen PleaseMasterPleaseMasterPleaseMaster and release what is hidden there, struggling to get out.
Something smooth and hard slides between my legs, Ohhh! rubbing across my slick labia pleasepleasepleaseplease! The bulbous head, larger than I imagined, slips across my clitoris Ohohahah!
The fingers in my hair hold me steady, as my Master thrusts lightly with his pelvis. The head of his cock taps my clitoris repeatedly AhAhAh! And finally, his hand adjusts his hard cock MAAASTER PLEEEASE!, and my Master penetrates me!
AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!! I have never felt so filled!
Here is a story about a fantasy camping trip that I wrote quite some time ago. It involves several people that I actually know, so it's not quite as far fetched as it seems. I started re-reading, in preparation for posting here, and decided that I could add a bit to it. Several furious hours of writing and editing later, and this is what I've got. I hope it improved, and not just lengthened.
We pulled up to the curb and I set the parking brake and killed the engine. A pair of lights from a large vehicle pulled in behind us and shut off.
I turned to Bruce in the passenger seat and said, “This will only take a few moments. Why don’t you give Jim a call and make sure that he’s ready? Tell him we’ll be there in 15 to 20 minutes.”
“Will do,” was the reply.
I stepped out of the cab of the truck and walked around to the rear to check the door clearance. The street was dark and empty. I looked at my watch. 4:47 AM. Right on schedule.
The curb was clear at the cargo doors, and Vanessa had left plenty of space between her SUV and the rear of the small moving truck. It helped obstruct the view from the street and sidewalk just slightly, but left plenty of room to open the big double doors.
I walked into the dark courtyard and through to the apartment at the far right corner. The door was unlocked, so I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.
The room was dimly lit by one small table lamp. It seemed bright after the darkness of the courtyard. The girl at my feet was plain, but she seemed very exotic and beautiful kneeling in the half-light, her brown curls partially obscuring her face. When she bent to put her lips to my boot, it was obvious that she wore absolutely nothing but a pair of dust colored ballet slippers and a slim leather collar around her throat. At her side lay two small bundles of cloth and a black leather bag.
“Did you do everything that I instructed?” I asked.
“Yes, Master,” was the reply coming from near my feet. It was timid but clear, and a little excited.
“Everything is here, your car is in a safe spot, and you’ve gone to the bathroom already?”
Again timidly, “Yes, Master.”
I reached down and picked up the off-white bundle of cloth. Her head was still at my feet. I hadn’t given permission to rise. I knelt down and put my hand in her curls, grasping a large handful of hair at the back of her head. My grip was secure, but not cruel. Gently, I pulled her up to a kneeling position again and looked her in the face. She stared at me while I gripped her hair, silent and expressionless, her hands still at her side. Then she broke and bit her lower lip. It was a nervous habit when she was unsure of herself, but I thought it was beautiful and I loved seeing it.
I brushed the cloth across her body and felt her tremble before pressing it against her breast and fondling her. I held her hair tight and kissed her full and hard, her lips responding to mine. She tried to press her body into mine as I explored her mouth, then I pulled her away. “Put this on,” I said as I dropped the cloth into her lap.
As the girl put on the slight bit of covering, I reached my hand into the black bag. There were several items inside, and I pulled out a shaped and padded length of soft cloth. The piece of clothing she now wore was scanty and almost ragged, barely covering her charms. It was a very dull color. She was tying a length of string into a bow around her waist.
I hadn’t yet seen this particular outfit. I had only told her to make it a few days ago. I approved heartily. She looked something like a servant or a refugee in a sex-laden B-movie.
I stepped behind her and slipped the new length of cloth over her eyes. I tied it securely in place behind her head. With the blindfold secured, I asked, “Can you see anything at all?”, as I adjusted it over her nose and cheeks.
“No, Master” was her reply. Her breathing was getting deep and ragged.
I dropped my hands down her chin and throat, lingering for just a second at the collar around her neck before moving down to grope her breasts inside the brief tunic. I rolled one nipple between my thumb and finger and reached in to nuzzle her ear and neck. She pressed back against me, her breath now very heavy.
I put my hand once more in her hair and pushed her down gently. She bent over until her face rested on the floor, her ample ass rising naturally. Her palms were flat on the floor, and she tried to adjust to spread her legs more for me. She arched her back in expectation.
I took her forearm and pulled it behind her, followed by the other arm. I crossed her wrists at the small of her back and pinned them there with one hand. With my other hand, I again reached inside the bag and pulled out a set of leather cuffs. In seconds, they held her hands firmly behind her back.
I pulled her back up to a kneeling position. At this point, she was very unsure of what would happen next. I had not filled her in on any of the details for the weekend. My hand went back to the black bag. “Open your mouth,” I said, and then pushed a thin rubber gag between her teeth. Its leather strap buckled behind her head.
I inspected my work. In moments, the girl had been bound, blindfolded and gagged. She was lovely. I picked up the second bundle of cloth and shoved it in the mostly empty black bag. This bundle was brightly colored and very soft. There were two small boxes hiding under the bundle, and these went into the bag, as well. I reached up to the shelf near the door, opened the CD player sitting there and removed the disc inside. Its case was beside the player, and this too went into the bag.
“Stand up,” I commanded. She rose up on her knees, and then got to her feet. The thin cloth that covered her barely covered her ass when she stood straight.
As she stood, I took the black leather bag in hand and opened the door. She clearly wasn’t expecting to hear the door open as she stood bound and almost naked in front of it. Being blindfolded, she couldn’t see who or what might be outside. She pulled back reflexively, but I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her forward toward the door. She struggled briefly, then reluctantly came along, letting me lead. She really had no choice.
I took the keys from the hook by the door, turned off the light, and ushered my captive into the courtyard. I shut the door and locked the deadbolt. As I guided her through the darkness, she came willingly, wanting to get to our destination as soon as possible.
I peeked out of the courtyard to make sure that there was no one around. Since she was joining me willingly and not nude, I wasn’t doing anything illegal, and I don’t embarrass easily. But being stopped by the police for suspected kidnapping would put a real damper on the weekend, and not all of my friends are as shameless as myself. Luckily, the coast was clear. The streets were completely deserted.
I took the young woman by the arm and led her to the back of the truck. There was no lock on the door, so I lifted the latch and one door swung open. I helped her step up onto the bumper and then into the cargo area. It was dark inside, but the streetlight provided just enough light. In the shadow of the unopened door were four similarly clad bodies, lying bound and gagged on some moving blankets. One bound man was lying against a large bag near the front, with three women crowded on the floor near him. I knelt my captive on the blanket, between a slim Asian woman and my slightly plump wife.
“Lay down,” I commanded, as I guided her down. “Do not try to get up, move around or communicate in any way.” All of the captives had their heads on pillows near the wall of the truck. They were packed in close, their bodies touching. It was very erotic to see. I slid my hand up my new captive’s leg and patted her ass. Then I did the same to my lovely wife. The two of them lying bound against each other was a truly beautiful sight. I stepped out onto the street and closed the door with a thump. I could only imagine the thoughts running through my girl’s mind.
I checked my watch. 4:56. The whole thing had taken 9 minutes. Luckily, Jim was only about 10 minutes away. I got back into the cab of the truck and started the engine.
“Jaci’s secure. That makes five.” I put the truck into gear and pulled out onto the street. Behind us, the lights of the SUV came back on and followed us down the street. We were on our way.
Ten minutes later, we were pulling up to a large house on a residential street. There was a single light in the window. As I got out of the truck, the front door opened and Jim stepped out to meet me.
“Perfect timing,” he said. “They’re waiting in the foyer. I have another bag that I want to take, can I toss it in the back?”
“Actually, I’d prefer if we didn’t put it in the truck. I don’t want things flying around in there. Why don’t you check with ‘Nessa? I’m sure she has room in her vehicle. You’ll be riding with her anyway.”
“Roger that. Let’s get the girls in. Mind helping?”
We walked into the house. Just inside the doorway, two women were kneeling with their hands behind them and gags in their mouths. They were wearing very short, revealing tunics, slippers and collars around their necks. The brunette was thin with straight hair and medium breasts, the blonde was shorter, with large breasts and teased hair. They were both looking up at us with large doe eyes.
“No blindfolds?” I asked.
“I’m not worried about it. I’m more concerned about them twisting an ankle on the curb. Besides, seeing what’s in store will add to their excitement. And they won’t be able to see anything inside the truck, anyway.”
I shrugged and helped the brunette to her feet, manhandling her just a little. Jim had the aforementioned bag in hand and was guiding the blonde out the door. I know that of the two, the blonde is his favorite. He shut off the light and pulled the door closed as I pulled the brunette out to the truck. It only took seconds to get her across the lawn and into the truck. She paused, awestruck, when she saw the other five captives lying on the floor. I forced her down in line and stepped back out.
Jim was ready to help the blonde up into the cargo area. As she stepped up, he said to her “Kneel! Face down!” She complied immediately, facing away from the open door. He reached into his bag and pulled out a ziplock bag containing a red butt-plug. He pushed the plug deep into the blonde’s ass. She squirmed and moaned, then he pushed her down next to the brunette.
“Is that such a good idea?” I asked in low tones as I closed the door.
“What? The plug?” He smiled wide. “She loves that. It puts her in the right frame of mind, especially if someone else watches it happen.”
“I understand that, but it’s a long ride to where we’re going. That thing is going to make her really sore and dry in the hour and half it takes to get there. It looked lubed, but that wears off in the first 30 minutes or so. It could do some damage for the weekend. And I know you’ll want to use her ass this weekend.”
“Damned, I didn’t think of that. I really don’t want to have her think I made a mistake and ruin the experience.”
“Tell you what. We’ve got one more stop to make. I have a birthday surprise for Bruce. Why don’t I pull it out when we stop?”
“Cool! Thanks! I’m just so worked up over this weekend. This was an awesome idea.”
I slapped him on the back and took the plastic bag from his hand. I headed back to the cab. He took his large bag and got into the SUV with Vanessa.
We headed out to the main street and toward the freeway. Bruce and I shared some coffee from the thermos I had brought and listened to the radio. Neither of us was really listening, though. We were thinking of the three day weekend that lie ahead of us and the extraordinary experiences that would come from it. I’m not sure which of us originally came up with the idea of a Gorean style BDSM camping weekend, but it was certainly embraced by all. That’s what happens when you get together a group of re-enactors who somehow all share an interest in BDSM, mainly of the Maledom-femsub variety. Vanessa and her two subs were an add-on, but she’s up for anything. And the girls just mainly love to be dominated.
Just before getting to the freeway, I turned onto a sidestreet. Vanessa and Jim followed in her vehicle. Vanessa knew what was going on, but the other two did not, unless of course she told Jim.
“We’ve gotta make a slight detour,” I told Bruce. “There’s something I need to pick up for this weekend. Mind helping me load it?”
“Not a problem,” he said. We were pulling to the curb. It was still very dark outside.
I grabbed a small bag and we walked to the door, and I pulled out a key. “I know it’s a week late, but I have your birthday present inside. You’ve gotta help me load it.” Bruce gave me a quizzical look.
I flipped on a lightswitch. Kneeling in the middle of the livingroom floor was a naked girl in her mid 20s. She was Asian, just a little on the plump side, but very pretty. “Happy birthday, buddy.”
Bruce was speechless for a moment, then he sputtered, “Errr…wha..?” He was fumbling for thoughts.
I helped him out. “I know your affinity for Asian girls, and it didn’t seem quite right that you were the only one without two slaves this weekend. So, here you go.” He looked at me, stunned. “Now you have your wife, and this one. I hope you like her.”
“Like?” he stammered. “What’s not to like? She’s beautiful.” The girl said nothing but blushed deeply. She never moved. “I just don’t know how….What’s her name?”
“Whatever you want it to be. It’s a fantasy weekend. She’s your slave for the next few days. You can name her whatever you want.”
“Wow!” he said. He knelt down next to her and lifted her chin, looking at her face. Then he fondled her breast, her belly and grabbed her inner thigh. She took a deep intake of breath, but said nothing. She was breathing deeply. I had tasted her charms twice before at a club we both attended, and looked forward to doing so again. I was sure that Bruce would find her quite acceptable.
“Let’s get her ready for the truck,” I said. I tossed a short tunic to her, similar to the others. “Put that on, girl.”
“Yes, Master,” she replied and quickly donned the costume. I pulled out the cuffs, blindfold and gag from the bag I brought inside, and in moments she was outfitted exactly as Jaci had been. We guided her out to the truck, locking the door behind us. Bruce was touching her the entire way.
I opened the truck and helped her up. Bruce’s eyes widened when he saw the extent of our cargo. He knew that we’d have several slaves along this weekend, but the reality was just sinking in.
I helped the new girl down beside Jim’s two girls. There wasn’t a lot of room left. “All of you listen,” I commanded. “This will be a long trip. There will be no moving around, and no trying to communicate. I suggest that you get as much rest as possible. You will have a very long day ahead of you.” After the new girl was situated, I knelt down and put a hand on the back of Jim’s blonde. She was mostly on her stomach. My hand trailed down over her round ass, and I efficiently removed the butt-plug and placed it back in its ziplock bag. She gasped as it came out, and squirmed nicely for a few moments, but she never resisted. To the contrary, it seemed that she was trying to push her crotch into the floor for relief for a moment. Quite lovely.
I climbed out and shut the door. Now we could finally get on the highway and on the way to our site. Our adventure was underway.
We pulled off of the small road and onto a dirt driveway. There was a cattle guard and a thin tree line just inside of a rickety, worn down barbed wire fence. There really hadn’t been anything but wooded areas broken by cattle pastures for the last several miles. The dawn had just broken.
Past the tree line, I pulled onto a large clearing and faced the truck south, towards the road. Vanessa pulled up next to my truck, and the four of us got out.
“Well, this is it,” I stated. “What do you think?”
“This is perfect,” exclaimed Jim. “Isolated. Tree line. No neighbors. Clean pasture. I like it.”
“How do we want to set up camp?” asked Bruce.
“How about this? Let’s set up the big tent parallel to the road, with the side opening facing AWAY from the road. The two smaller tents can set up at the corners, creating a horseshoe. We’ll put the vehicles to the corners to block the line of site between the tents.”
Everyone agreed. “Let’s get set up first, then we can kit-up. Let’s get the slaves to work.”
“Sounds like a plan. Jim and Bruce, why don’t you check the ground around the camp area and make sure there are no major holes or briars or anything. If it looks good, let’s set the big tent right along there. Nessa, you can help me over at the truck.”
“This is so hot!” she said.
“Actually, it’s pretty chilly right now. Should be comfortable all weekend,” I quipped.
“Smart ass! You know what I meant.”
I smiled and started to pull out the cargo ramp. It made a horrendous noise and Vanessa helped me lock it into place. I opened the double doors wide and was greeted with a musky odor. It was a mix of canvas and woodsmoke from camping trips past, as well as the smell of sweat and sexual excitement. Light flooded the interior cargo area, exposing the occupants. There were moans from inside as the bodies quivered from excitement and the suddenly cool air.
I started up the ramp and chose to work in reverse order. I pulled the Asian girl up to her knees and helped her to her feet. I took her by the arm and guided her halfway down the ramp to Vanessa. “Kneel her on the ground right there facing the camp.” I indicated an area to the side of the cargo ramp. Jim and Bruce looked up and started walking our direction. I went back inside for the next girl.
Jim’s buxom blonde was quivering at my feet. She wasn’t blindfolded. She had been trying to sneak a look around. She nearly hyperventilated when I put my hands on her to lift her up. Just darling. I could see why Jim liked her. I guided her halfway down the ramp to Vanessa. She squinted into the morning sunlight. When she saw Jim standing at the side of the ramp over the new Asian girl, she dropped her eyes. Next came his brunette, also not blindfolded.
As I guided Bruce’s wife, also Asian but slimmer and a little older, I saw Jim putting his feet between the knees of the brunette who had just been passed down. He lightly kicked them further apart. “Make sure they’re all in proper position,’ I said. Jim gave me a nod. Bruce looked on as Vanessa put his blindfolded wife on her knees in the grass. I think the scene pleased him greatly.
Next came Jaci, then my wife, and finally Vanessa’s two pets, Kelly and Jason. Kelly was somewhat overweight, with breasts as large as my wife’s. She pressed herself into me when I lifted her to her knees, rubbing her face against me. She was incredibly excited and willing to please, her newness to the scene driving her imagination. Her husband lay next to her, his excitement obvious.
I led Kelly down the ramp trying to keep her moving. I think that she would have happily dropped to her knees and done anything I wanted right there. There was plenty of time for that later. Nessa was a great friend and very enthusiastic about our hobby, but her lack of experience showed in how her slaves behaved. However, what she lacked in experience and control, she made up for in imagination and enthusiasm.
Finally, I brought the male, Jason, down the ramp. He was a little taller than me, and a little round in the middle. He came willingly. When I handed him over to Nessa, she nearly threw him to the ground, being almost as large as he and much more aggressive. And to think that he once ‘dominated’ his once meek wife. She really opened up since joining the larger scene and serving under Vanessa. I think all three were much happier now.
Bruce, Jim, Vanessa and I surveyed our property: seven women and one man, all kneeling almost naked on the grass before us. Their legs were spread, mouths gagged and hands manacled behind them. Their breath was heavy and chests were heaving. It was a beautiful sight.
“Bruce,” I said, “could you remove the blindfolds while I instruct our property on their behavior this weekend?” He nodded and immediately headed toward the Asian girl on the end, his birthday gift.
“Listen closely,” I stated loudly. “You have been chosen to serve as slaves to us this weekend. For the next three days, you are property, and nothing more. For most of you, this will be a dream come true. Do not think it is about you. You are here to serve. You were chosen because you belong at the feet of Masters.”
Half of the women were now blinking into the morning sunlight. Their chests were heaving deeper as they took in their surroundings and my words.
“You will obey any and all commands, from any free person here. For this weekend, YOU are NOT free. You do not know what freedom is, you will only know slavery and servitude. You will show proper courtesy and respect at all times. You will kneel before any free person. Your eyes will be lowered unless instructed otherwise. There will be no idle chatter. You will speak when spoken to. You will hold nothing back from your Masters. Your bodies, minds and emotions will all be completely open to those who stand before you. You will address us all as ‘Master’ or ‘Mistress’, regardless of who your primary master is, and you will obey any who commands you. You may address each other as ‘slave’. There will be no talk of anything outside of this camp.”
All of the slaves were now able to see. There was fear and excitement in their eyes.
“For this weekend, you are on another world. Your old world does not exist. Any deviation from the fantasy, any infraction of any rule will result in brisk punishment. This is your life for the next three days.”
I let my words sink in. Some knew exactly what was planned, to others this would be a complete shock. They would have to adjust to this new reality, and quickly.
“Your owners will now choose their primary slaves for the weekend. When selected, I suggest that you show proper respect, groveling before the person who now owns you.”
The four free persons moved forward to choose their slaves. There would be no surprises. We would each be responsible for the two slaves that we brought. Bruce took his wife by the hair and guided her to the end, next to his gift. I stood before Jaci and my own beautiful wife, both kneeling at my feet. I stared down, and the moment sunk in to them. They both dropped their heads to my feet, my wife on her belly, Jaci bending forward on her knees. I savored the moment. The others were doing the same.
After enjoying a few moments of this attention, I stepped away and walked to the side of the two women. I straddled my wife’s right leg, the one nearest to Jaci, and placed one hand on each of the girls’ asses, stroking and fondling for just a moment. On a whim, I reached between their legs and stroked their crotches. Both were already excited and damp. Smiling, I tore my attention away from their luscious vaginas and undid the connection between each of their leather cuffs, freeing their hands. Groans of gratitude escaped both girls.
I moved and stood before them once more. “Sit up,” I said. They did so, kneeling before me and looking up doe eyed, much like Jim’s girls when I first saw them this morning. I stared down at them and they dropped their eyes demurely. They could tell that I would be very strict about protocol this weekend. I knelt down and kissed each on the cheek. They were both still gagged.
“Stand up,” I told them. They did so, enjoying the freedom of their hands. “It’s time to set up the tent. Get inside and get the two boxes of connectors. Cindy knows where they are. Bring them back to me, and you will get more instructions. Now hurry.” I watched as they hurried to do my bidding, buttocks swinging under the short tunics.
“Bruce, Vanessa! Can you get these slaves to start bringing the poles for the tent? They’re tied to the side of the truck. First, we’ll need the green striped poles and the plain white poles. Jim, can you start moving out some of the miscellaneous camping gear to make more room in there?”
I walked to the area that Bruce and Jim had walked over and decided the best layout for the tent. It was a large garage tent with heavy duty poles and a new heavy canvas covering that Cindy and I had made. Cindy and Jaci walked quickly back to me carrying two large boxes of metal connector pieces.
“Lay those out going across here,” I indicated a line on the ground with my finger. “Jaci, place your pieces on either end, three to a side.” Cindy already knew how to lay out her connectors.
Soon, several slaves were bringing white metal poles with green tape spiraled around them. “Lay those out between the connectors like this.” I took two poles from Bruce’s wife and laid them out on the ground. “Then go back for more. Cindy, show Jaci how to put these together.” I walked back towards the truck. “Nessa, after the white poles, start handing out the ROUND wooden poles. Jim, see if you can get to a big box labeled ‘Roof’. Be careful, it’s heavy. Give it to the boy and send him back to me. Then look for the walls.” I headed back to the area of the tent. Cindy and Jaci were nearly complete with the cross beams. This was going much faster with so many hands helping.
In minutes, the entire roof frame was together. Jason brought the red and purple striped canvas roof, and with the help of several girls, the roof was complete. I sent Jason back for the walls while we inserted the upright poles of the back side of the tent. With all of my workers gagged and submissive, it was an easy job. None of them could talk, so all they could do was listen to my exact instructions. The entire tent was complete in ten minutes, less than a third of the time it takes Cindy and me to do it ourselves.
Soon, the girls were laying out carpets and furniture on the inside. It would be opulent when complete.Bruce started setting up the kitchen fly, while Jim and I unloaded the water barrels. Then, I took a shovel and walked a short distance away, downwind. I started digging a short, shallow trench for the latrine. Then I went back for more supplies, canvas walls and the make shift kitty-litter port-a-potty. “Who needs to pee?” I shouted. “All of you, come over here. We’re going to build the latrine.” Everyone came over.
I handed the supplies to the girls and headed back to the latrine area. Bruce and I drove uprights into the ground and draped canvas between them as a privacy screen. I had the girls lay two wide boards on either side of the shallow trench. Then I stood at the end of the boards, unzipped my pants and peed into a shallow hole at the end of the trench as the others looked on. “Who’s next?” Bruce followed my example.
“Now you girls, two at a time.” They looked up at me, not quite sure what I meant. “Let’s go. Two of you get over here and put one knee on each board. This is the only place and way that you will relieve yourselves. If you need to defecate, you can use the bucket port-a-potty. Otherwise, you kneel on the boards. Pets don’t get to sit on the furniture.”
Finally, Jim’s brunette and then Vanessa’s Kelly stepped forward. They were in obvious distress. They desperately needed to relieve themselves, but they did not relish the idea of doing so in front of other people, especially in such an undignified manner. I guided them down on the boards facing each other, exposing them over the latrine trench. Soon, the brunette could no longer hold back. With tears springing in her eyes, she let loose into the trench as we watched. The sound was enough to push Kelly over the edge, and she too relieved herself, though with much less drama.
“Very good,” I said soothingly, as I placed a roll of toilet paper on a short upright between the trench and the canvas wall. Then I set up the five gallon bucket port-a-potty between the wall and the toilet paper. “With the exception of Vanessa, this is to be used for defecation only. Anyone need to use this instead of the trench right now?” There were no takers. “Next two up. Let’s go.” Most of the girls ended up over the trench in the next few minutes, with varying degrees of shame or nonchalance. Jason knelt on the boards, as well, sensing that we wouldn’t allow him to stand. Soon, everyone was ready to get back to work and away from the very public display of discipline and human needs.
As the last of the light furniture was being placed in the large tent, I decided that I wanted to get dressed properly before setting up my own sleeping area. I grabbed a bag from the truck, walked into the tent and called for my two girls.
“Kneel,” I told them. Once on their knees, I removed the gags from their mouths. They opened and closed their mouths, stretching their jaws to remove the soreness. I kissed them both on the mouth to help. “You will remove my clothes and help me get dressed in something more suitable to a fantasy weekend,” I said. “Start with my boots.”
Each started untying a boot, and soon I was barefoot. Cindy got up and started unbuttoning my shirt as Jaci began to work on my belt and pants. When the last button was undone, I pulled Cindy closer and kissed her again, then pushed her lips to my nipple. Jaci’s job was made more difficult by the fact that my manhood was stiffening rapidly, but soon my pants were around my ankles and then on the floor. I was left in an open shirt and boxer shorts.
Cindy finished removing the shirt as Jaci pulled the shorts down. My cock was stiff and hard before her face. I could see that she wanted to take it in her mouth, but was unsure if she should do so. As much as I wanted to, I decided that it should wait. I wanted to get completely into character, and that included clothes. I hoped the delayed gratification would be worth it.
I pointed to the bag filled with my weekend attire, and soon my girls were busy dressing me. Loose linen trousers with a long, open fly, a brightly colored soft cotton kaftan, and leather sandals completed my fantasy attire. When finished, Cindy and Jaci put their lips to the tops of my feet. This is what I had dreamed of my whole life.
“Back to work,” I said. “Finish laying out the rugs and furniture. Then you can set up the private tents.”
“Yes, Master,” they both responded.
I looked out as the others worked, the slaves almost nude in their rags, the Masters and Mistress in modern clothes. It was almost right, but we weren’t quite there, yet.
“Friends!” I shout. “Kit up!” I indicated my new clothes. There are nods of approval and soon the other three were similarly outfitted in opulent fantasy clothing.