Slave Girl Emily Ch. 02

The frame was just that: a big wooden rectangle with a soft leather cuff attached to each corner by an adjustable cord. Master had me stand in the frame facing the wall. He attached my wrists first, leaving the cords loose, then my ankles; he tightened the cord holding my wrists so I was spreadeagled and helpless. As he tightened the cords for my wrists he said, quietly, "Remember: Yellow and I back off a bit; your safeword and I stop; Red and we leave."

Someone handed him a cat o' nine tails, much bigger and more dangerous looking than the little whip that Andrew and I had bought. I didn't have much time to look at it, because Master moved behind me, out of sight.

The first blow was a soft slap on my upper back that hardly made me twitch. But that, I knew, was just a warm up. He'd hit me lightly for a few minutes, and then harder as my body released endorphins, the magical substance that would make my pain pleasurable. He was a good flogger, pausing every so often to let my body adjust; then he'd resume, hitting harder. Soon my skin was burning and I was sobbing, but my whole nervous system was alight with pleasure, nipples and pussy hot and needy.

I have no idea how long the flogging lasted, but eventually he stopped, came to me, pushed my tail aside, put a hand between my legs, and stroked my clitoris with one finger as he slid another into my vagina.

"What now, Famula?" he said. "Had enough?"

"Oh, Master," I sighed, thrilled by his touch, "that's not for a mere slave to decide." I didn't care what he did at that moment, painful or pleasurable, as long as he didsomething. I craved his attention and longed for him to master me - everything else was unimportant.

He took his finger out of my pussy and put it in my mouth. I closed my eyes and sucked it, feeling wanton.

"I think that's enough discipline for now," he said. "But be warned: another infraction will bring more severe punishment."

I was a little disappointed when he released me from the frame. He held onto my leash as he moved around the room chatting with friends. I was already aroused from the whipping, and his hand on the leash and the people indulging their kinks all around us were making matters worse. I'd had no sex since May, and my frustration was becoming palpable.

I thought about how to get his attention. Speaking out of turn would probably get me nothing more than a rebuke, but I couldn't think what else to do. We'd been here an hour; the party could easily go on for three or four more, and I didn't know how I'd get through it. Master was having a long conversation with an older man dressed in black latex. I watched a man wearing only a leather top and a blond girl about my age, naked like me and with a collar like mine, having anal sex a few feet away.

From my angle I could see his cock penetrate her anus and her sphincter flex as he plunged into her. I could hear his raspy breaths, her moans, and an occasional fart as air escaped around his shaft. I wondered what Master's cock looked like and tried to imagine the sensation of it in my ass. Would it feel like my butt plug? To judge from the young woman's reactions, it would feel either much better or much worse. I'd take either.

The young woman turned around and sucked the man's cock. She noticed me watching and fixed me with a longing gaze. I'd never wanted sex with a woman before, but now I imagined kissing her, licking her anus where I'd seen the man's cock plunging in, eating her pussy.

Oh, it was unbearable. I put my hand on my pussy and masturbated as I gazed into her eyes and watched the cock slide between her lips. I couldn't help my heavy breathing, my heaving breasts, the moan that escaped me . . .

"Famula!" my Master exclaimed, his voice a sharp rebuke. "I didn't give you permission to masturbate!"

"Master,please," I whined. But I took my hand off my pussy.

He said, "And I didn't give you permission to speak!"

I whimpered. I was really ashamed and afraid, and I was getting more turned on every second. Beside me, the man in leather groaned and came in the blond girl's mouth.

"It's a troublesome slave," Master said to the man he'd been talking to.

"I can see that," said the man.

"Bit of a slut, I'm sorry to say," said Master thoughtfully.

"Got no shame at all, rubbing her cunt like that, right here in front of all these people," said the man.

My face was hot with humiliation; people were turning to watch, and my body was spinning out of control.

"No telling what a slutty vixen like this wouldn't do," said Master, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. "On your knees, slave," he said as he pushed down pants and underwear together, "and suck my cock."

I sank to my knees in front of him. I was intensely aware of all the people staring - but hadn't I been staring at a girl sucking a cock just moments ago? It had been sexy watching, and now the blond girl was among the watchers, excitement in her eyes.

I looked at Master's cock - it was long, thick, straight, and veined. I was overcome with longing for it and closed my lips around it. I drew it deep into me, enjoying its warmth and the way Master was growing more excited and thrusting deeper. Soon I was gagging a little, thick saliva flooding my mouth and running down my chin. I didn't know how to deep throat and was scared I might throw up if he went much deeper.

Still, I whined in protest when he pulled his cock out of my mouth. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back so I had to look at him. He still had on his white shirt, vest, tie, and suit coat. He said, loudly so his voice carried across the room, "You liked it when everyone was looking at your asshole, didn't you, slutty vixen? You want everyone to watch you get ass-fucked, don't you?"

After wishing for so long, I was finally going to get anal sex, and it would be as a punishment, painful and degrading. A crowd was gathering, eager to watch.

My heart was full to overflowing with mortification and heat; it was all I could do to nod in answer to Master's question.

"On your elbows and knees, slave," he said.

I raised my ass to Master, feeling exposed, vulnerable, and ashamed. I hid my face in my hands. He drew out the fox-tail butt plug and smeared more lubricant in my crack and anus. I heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper . . . a few seconds passed, and then the head of his big cock pressed against the opening of my anus, stretching the muscles - I thought it was going to split me open. Oh, it was more thrilling than any spanking, more painful than the whipping, a hundred times better than when Bobby hit me. I heard a thin, piercing shriek, like a teakettle left on the burner too long, and was startled to realize it was me.

When Master was deep inside me, he slapped my ass, two-handed, the blows loud and stinging. Tears dripped on the floor between my hands, and I squealed with every slap and every thrust. I lifted my head and looked at the rapt people watching my first butt-fuck. There was the man in latex vigorously jerking off, the blond girl masturbating and twisting a nipple, her partner gloomily fingering his soft cock, and others too, playing with themselves or just staring. I fell from my elbows onto one shoulder, freeing a hand. I reached between my legs and found my clit - no one stopped me this time - and with the sting of Master's slaps, the pain and stimulation of his cock in my ass, the humiliation, and my masturbation, I came with a wail. And a short time later Master came too, thrusting painfully, groaning. He pulled out of me, and I collapsed onto the floor, curled up, and tried to make myself disappear.

But Master said, "Here's your tail, Famula," and he made me stand up and bend over, legs spread, so he could put the butt plug in me again. He straightened my ears, caressed a cheek with his fingertips, and kissed me. He said, "Well done, my slave," and I smiled and shivered with pleasure.

Master dressed again. The pale, beautiful girl in the black dress came and collected the condom. We stayed another hour, Master holding my leash while he moved about the room, talking to his many friends. I was docile now. I stayed quiet and watched the fucking, the whippings, and the other things that were going on all around us, until he said, "It's time to go."

He sent me to dress in the bedroom where I'd taken his bag. I packed away the fox ears and tail and went out to the party room again, not delaying this time. Master said his goodbyes, and the girl in black let us out. I glanced back at her as we walked away, and she met my eyes and licked her lips.Strange, I thought.

"Would you like to come home with me tonight?" Master asked as we rode down in the elevator.

"It makes me happy to obey Master's commands," I said.

"Come home with me, then," he said.

We took a taxi to an apartment building on East End Avenue. His place was much less grand than the one where the party had been, but spacious and comfortable.

We had a snack in his clean, modern kitchen, and then he said, "It's time for bed."

"Command me," I said.

"Come to bed," he said.

I did, and - gently but firmly, and without asking - he took my body for himself.

I pressed myself against him and felt safe. Of all the world's dangers, he was the only one I feared - but not tonight. "Was the party all right for you?" he asked. "I wasn't too . . ."

"Master did what he had a right to do," I said. But then I softened and said, "I'm very happy." It was true: I was happier than I'd been all summer.

"I'd like to talk to you about becoming my slave," he said.

"I'd like that," I said, suddenly feeling a hundred times happier.

"We'll discuss it tomorrow," he said.

I knew we had a lot of hard work ahead of us. We'd have to draw up a contract (my friends were appalled that Andrew and I hadn't had one), in which the terms of my enslavement - rules, limits, schedules, protocols - would be laid out in excruciating detail. We'd labor at it for days, perhaps weeks, negotiating and consulting with experts and friends until we'd gotten everything right.

But in my heart he already owned me.