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Mistress Gina’s fingernail dug into the soft flesh of Laney’s tit, setting off a little shriek inside her victim. “Does that hurt?”
Laney didn’t know to answer.
“I asked you a question!” the woman came quickly to her front and slapped her face.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Better,” she conceded, though she was hardly conceding anything. The t
wisted smirk on her red lips yielded nothing in this slave’s favor. If it were possible to hate a stranger with the venom of an injured spouse, then her contempt was proof that this was possible. Curling her lips with judgment, she strutted around the anxious Laney carrying her baton, occasionally whapping the cutting end against the slave’s thighs, buttocks and breasts—to which Laney jerked while she silently screamed inside.
“I don’t suppose you’ve ever been in suspension bondage?” the harsh woman postulated.
This time, Laney wisely didn’t answer, having guessed correctly that the question was purely rhetorical.
“It’s not a feat any initiate should be subject to… but you, you’re special, aren’t you? You can take the worst of it. What your friends in slavery are enduring would be so easy for you,” she mockingly referred to the bound Elise and Sandra, while digging the end of the baton into Laney’s side. “Look how they squirm… how their muscles are being primed for the worst… look at them…” she grabbed Laney’s chin and forced her gaze first at Elise and then Sandra. Each one was inside some present pain, Essex and Darius working them to profound depths. Laney envied them.
“My friend is going to have his way inside that little bitch’s ass,” Gina continued her mocking monologue. “He’ll widen her until she screams, then fuck it like a crazed lunatic. And your tenderhearted blonde bimbo gets Darius… some say he took the master’s course from hell—some say he’s kin to our Marquis. Me? I work the craft because it keeps me sane.” The woman paced defiantly, finding more barbs inside her mind to preach. “When it’s over, when this island is just in your dreams and the three of you are basking in triumph, back in control of your world, you will remember this day, you’ll remember me. I won’t let you forget, slut. You’ll have something to haunt you. Trust me, you worthless bitch, you will never forget.”
There was movement in the room, to Laney’s left where the doorway opened into the cellar corridor. Guests from upstairs were slowly making their way into the dungeon, moving cautiously to meld with the awesome activity they witnessed.
“You’re strong, you work out. You have handsome muscles in these arms,” Gina strutted about the anxious slave inspecting Laney’s physical assets. “Let’s see how you survive this struggle. Let’s see.” She turned away. “Darius!” she called to her fellow master, finding the man disinclined to obey her commanding voice until he was ready.
Having his own slave to torture, he continued working Sandra with small torments that shocked her system raw. Adding to her confining bondage were a string of clothespins in a semi-circle from mid-thigh to mid-thigh. With each new pin added to the slave’s crotch, Sandra winced, though her gaze remained focused on the master’s eyes. His, like love, enveloped her. If only that fierce glance didn’t stray, she would be safe.
“Gina,” he finally turned to the waiting woman. “You want your chattel strung up?”
The haughty femme smiled.
Turning back to Sandra, Darius captured her gaze again. “Focus on me, slave. Not on my eyes—but on what I do. Keep them focused no matter how they wish to stray and you’ll survive this. Let them drift, the pain will burst through you in contemptuous strikes and you will not contain your agony.”
It tore at Sandra’s soul to have the master turn away. His glance was barbarous, but it kept her transfixed. Would his warning do as well to ease the throbbing beat of pain arising from her pinned groin? She stared his way intently. As more people gathered in the room, some moved toward her as if they’d steal away her thoughts; but she kept her focus forward and her mind on Master Darius while she said her desperate prayers.
In the corner of the room, Mistress Gina crouched behind her slave, attaching heavy bands around Laney’s ankles, while Darius peered into the depths of this slave’s moist eyes.
“Suspension can be heaven, or you can make it hell,” he said. He had her hands in his warm, efficient ones, lacing long sturdy cuffs snuggly around her wrists. The bonds were specifically designed for suspension, having extra padding at stress points to minimize the physical strain. Already feeling the pull on her muscles, the arousal in her crotch began to breed. “She is brutal, but perhaps you need this, slave.” He snickered, then mused aloud, “Perhaps, someday I’ll tug your strings as darkly as this mistress will today.” Taking each of Laney’s wrists, Darius stretched them high, and fixed the rings embedded in either side of the cuffs to chains on the ends of a three-foot bar. “Don’t cry,” he warned, “keep your humiliation inside.” He gave her one last stare, and having said his piece in his straightforward fashion, he moved to the side of the room to operate the pulleys.
Mistress Gina, having finished binding Laney’s ankles to a spreader bar, stood back watching as Darius turned the crank to draw the chains up tight and slowly lift the slave’s feet off the floor. Laney’s muscles responded, giving her some support, though there was terror etched in her expression as she worried how much she could bear. Every minute would be its own forever. It was wrong to fight the suspension and her fear. Struggle would be useless and only strain her muscles further. With a quick, nervous glance at the side of the room, her eyes fell on Erik as though he might give her some support. But his stare, like that of every other master and mistress in the room, was calculatingly cold and without empathy. Slaves didn’t deserve as much.
A ruthless show greeted Jason, Matthew and Erik when they entered the cellar’s dungeon. The frightening exhibition at first annoyed them all. Seeing their slaves in bondage to other masters was a stab of humiliation at their lack of control none of them liked. But the poses were hot, and their slaves looking unabashedly carnal with a lustrous layer of perspiration to makes their bodies glow. While Laney’s eyes were languidly mellow, Sandra’s breathed in erotic rhythms as she adjusted to the pain moving through her crotch. And Elise’s ass, getting worked with a leather paddle, anal plugs and fucking fingers seemed to dance weightlessly on air as it took the heavy punishment. Each gave dark witness to the depths of their erotic surrender, and the power it had to guide them far beyond what was sane and merciful.
“Yes, he’s here, bitch. But you’re mine now,” Mistress Gina snapped, with lips pursed venomously as she noted Laney’s roving eyes. “Trust me, he’ll give you no sympathy, nor will any other master or mistress in this room.” She forcefully pulled Laney’s face around with a hand that grabbed her chin like a claw. “You’re gonna get the shock of your life, so you’d better be very good to me. You’d better beg me well, and you’d better prepare to give me everything I want. That clear?”
“Yes, Mistress.” Her eyes didn’t waver now. She didn’t dare. While the Mistress Gina moved around, crashing her thin baton against her flesh, Laney gazed forward, thoughtlessly, letting sensation rule and her thoughts disappear.
On the far rack, Elise’s ass was riddled with red blotches of color appearing all over the fleshy orbs and down her thighs. Essex increased the size of his anal probes as though he had some specific purpose in mind. The more the distressed portal widened, the more thrilled he became, the more his hands probed deep when he withdrew the dildos and plunged his fingers inside. His stressed slave had never been worked so determinedly, her body never abused with such vile intent. Though each device shoved into her ass seemed more impossible to tolerate, she refused to reveal the agony. Letting the pain go free, she accepted more and more of Essex’s dogged probing, becoming anxious to please the man and give him all he asked for.
The final expanding dildo remained for some minutes in the slave’s behind as Elise adjusted to the augmentation, and Essex stepped away. The businesslike master snapped a slick latex glove over his hand and lubricated it with a slippery liquid. Returning to his slave, the master slowly withdrew the anal dildo and prepared for his finale.
The last thrust of Essex’s hand was the best of all. Elise squealed when he forced his way inside her, but her mindless acceptance of the invasion allowed the inevitable end to follow. Essex’s fist—quite slim for a man?
?s—at last slipped fully into her nether regions and settled deeply working the channel in a slow, rhythmic pulse.
Elise could hardly contain the pain and the deepening pleasure of this physical battle, as she struggled to remain in control of the awesome sensation bounding through her. The fire moved from her ass, to other regions of her body, sparking an inward, orgasmic feel quite different from a clitoral spasm. Even the weighted chains tugging at her nipples and breasts added to the extremes of this crude indulgence. Her whole body turned into one great climaxing feast.
It was not enough that Essex fucked her ass with his fist. Sensing her mounting cum, he started to withdraw and prepared for the final assault. Cock perched and ready, the hefty thing slipped inside the empty cavity and rocked the slave with the force of thunder. Her body crashed into its climax with Elise tearing at her bonds. But remaining bound, she was contained and inside the pleasure, while Essex finished himself and offered her to the gathering throng.
While Elise came, in the other corner of the dungeon, Sandra’s eyes pleaded for mercy with Darius standing before her with his whip. Readjusted to his liking, the rack was now horizontal, giving him full and easy access to both Sandra’s cunt and mouth—he’d use both.
