Sarah's Weekend

Sarah's Weekend

PART TWO

By ROSS MARTIN

Tom passed the jar of marmalade to Sarah. It was orange, her favorite. He could be such a gentleman when he wanted to be or when the setting was right. She dabbed a portion on her slice of buttered toast and took a bite. Her stomach was not quite right because of the ordeal it had been through during the night and the toast sledge-hammered this fact to her, but that was fine. She was on her second cup of coffee and wondering what the day would bring. More hardship if she knew her Master and his designs upon her. He was so good/bad to her.

Underneath the white robe she wore Sarah was completely naked. The seat she was perched on was enhanced by a soft cushion. Even so she was well aware of the heat in her backside from the previous day. Her breasts, which were big and floppy, had sustained less bruising and no doubt could be worked on a lot more. In fact she knew they were going to be worked on a lot more. She suspected he was saving them for something special. Either this day or the next, things would happen to them, of this she could be certain.

Her nipples were still skewered by bobby pins but they were no longer attached via a line to a bobby pin in her pesky knob. Ten years ago this would have been more than enough for her but not any more. It merely wetted her appetite for what further the Master had in mind.

"Ready for another day?" asked Tom with a devilish smile. "You almost quit on me last night."

Shame rose for a few seconds heating her face. Yes, the enema, the bobby pins and the swallowing of the pregnant woman's pee had almost been too much. Then there were his random torments.

"You made me continue, Master," she said with a touch of gratitude.

"Yes, I did. Are you sorry?'

"For letting you down, Master? Yes, I am sorry. But you, Master, you did the right thing. It was so very kind of you."

"I haven't heard you beg like that in some time."

"Oh, I haven't, Master. I haven't."

Tom clapped his hands together and a young Italian girl with long curly black hair and pouting lips painted a deep purple came into the room. As far as Sarah could tell, she was in her mid-twenties and was wearing a similar robe. Her hands were handcuffed together in front of her and her brown eyes had a fierce dark quality that challenged both Sarah and her Master.

"This is Lucy," said Tom as he approached the girl. "Short for Lucinda. Notice the heavy mascara around the eyes and how her fingernails, her eyelids and her mouth are painted up like she's a whore."

"Yes, Master," said Sarah.

"Disrobe for Sarah," Tom told the girl and she let slip the cloth from her rounded shoulders. It couldn't fall all the way because of the handcuffs but it did fall enough to reveal all there was of importance. Lucy had firm, high breasts with large dark nipples, admirable curves and long, dainty legs. Her triangle was black as the hair on her head and wild but no blacker or wilder than Sarah's. She trembled and was looking down in humiliation or what Sarah took to be humiliation.

"Touch her Sarah," said Tom. "Run your hands over her."

"Yes, Master."

Sarah got up out of her seat and faced the girl who was using her hands to cover up as much of herself as she possibly could. Sarah moved toward Lucy and Lucy backed away until she was against the wall.

"Don't," said Lucy in a whisper as Sarah touched the girl's shoulders then followed the natural curvature of her body down to her ample but firm melons.

"Don't!" Lucy cried when Sarah's right index finger slipped down to her belly button and suddenly leapt to her overly hairy triangle. Lucy tried to force Sarah out by squeezing her legs together but Sarah managed to get into and stay inside the Italian's love pot.

"Please no!" moaned Lucy. "You know this is not right, Master. It is wrong! Dirty!"

"Remove your digit, Sarah," said Tom and Sarah did as she was told. Lucy looked relieved. Then he added: "Disrobe, Sarah."

The older woman complied, dropping her garment. It landed in a heap on the floor. Lucy gaped in surprise. Revealed all at once were the bobby pins still in Sarah's big, blockish nipples. Lucy found herself staring at the horror of what had happened to the other woman for perhaps too long. This amused Tom. The bobby pin in Sarah's knob was not so clear because of the coal-colored tangle weed but once noticed it made Lucy shiver.

"He did this to you?" asked Lucy, pointing at the pins going through the older woman's nipples.

"Yes," answered Sarah.

"What was it like?"

"What do you think?"

"Why did he?"

"Because he wanted to and I wanted him to."

"That doesn't make sense."

"It does to me."

"Touch them," said Tom, looking at Lucy. "Touch them if you're that curious."

"Touch her breasts?" asked Lucy, looking coolly into Sarah's milder eyes.

"Yes," said Tom. "I know you want to."

"No!"

"Then touch her vagina if you can find it amongst all the scrub. If you can't find it I'll at least give you points for trying."

"Never!"

"Never? Don't you like Sarah?"

"It is wrong!"

"Very well," said Tom after a moment's contemplation, "I thought you may have changed your mind. To the dungeon then. Sarah, you will accompany us."

"I have to pee first," said Sarah apologetically. "At least I have to with your permission, Master."

"Fine," said Tom, pointing the way to the toilet. "You, Lucy shall watch."

And so, Master and new offering watched as Sarah unselfconsciously pissed into a bowl. It was a thick stream of yellow and it made Lucy blush.

"I could have had you drink that piss," said Tom to Lucy. "I could make you take it in the mouth. Perhaps someday I will."

The passage leading from the kitchen to the stairs down into the wine cellar/dungeon was short, a mere two hundred yards and the steps were even shorter. The sort of foam used to contain sound in recording studios lined the narrow walls as it did the wider walls of the dungeon.

The dungeon was a dark, dank place containing a number of blocks of wood nailed together and, like the room that had held the pregnant woman; there was a variety of whips and canes on the walls for Tom to choose from. Both Sarah and Lucy looked with foreboding at what might well be used upon them.

Tom had Sarah remove the handcuffs holding Lucy's hands in front of her and also take away the robe from her completely. Lucy fought to keep the robe but Sarah was stronger. The robe got tossed into a corner and there it would stay for what would seem a very long time.

Naked, Lucy covered up her overgrown pussy and her breasts as best she could with her hands. Tom dropped his pants showing her his manhood. She glanced at it only the once then looked away in disgust. Sarah looked at it for a considerably longer time.

"Filthy!" Lucy cried. "Wrong!"

"Suck me off," offered Tom, "and that will be that. You'll be free to go. The contract will be honored."

"Never!" cried Lucy angrily as she tried to cover even more of herself from prying eyes.

Tom had Sarah handcuff Lucy's hands behind her back. This wasn't difficult since, apart from a cold glare with truly exquisite hazel eyes, Lucy did not resist. Tom then handcuffed Sarah the same way with a pair he had on his belt.

"Never is a long time," said Tom as he inspected Lucy. He touched her lips and breasts with his fingers but did not go any further.

He had both Lucy and Sarah lean over a railing and then attached a hook to each woman's set of handcuffs. With a dozen turns of a wheel the rope attached to the hook in Sarah's handcuffs pulled her arms painfully upward. She gave a faint grunt. When it happened to Lucy there was more of an outburst. This was followed by a slow whimpering.

Tom took a pair of tweezers out of his pocket and showed it to Sarah who couldn't help but smile. He showed it to Lucy who simply didn't get it. She looked to Sarah for some clue but Sarah kept quiet.

Lucy found out what was what when the hairs on her armpits were ever so roughly pulled out. They came away a dozen at a time from her left armpit and then a dozen at a time from her right. And she squealed and struggled and launched all sorts of profanities in Italian at Tom. For his part, Tom simply continued to pull away until he had a nice handful to show his now heavily sweating and shaking victim.

"Don't! Don't do that again!" cried Lucy energetically.

"Oh, don't worry," said Tom, "There's plenty more where that came from and we do want you to look your best."

"Don't!"

"You'll suck my cock?"

"No!"

"You'll lick Sarah's cunt?"

"No!"

"Then I'll just get me another handful or two."

Lucy began to squeal again and then Tom stopped abruptly. He took Lucy's face in his hand a moment and said: "You are not to close your eyes again, understand? If you do I will have you for a whole week, contract or no contract, and do terrible things to you, do you understand?"

"Yes!" cried Lucy and, for the remainder of her time with Tom she was careful not to close her lovely peepers.

Letting go of her face, he began plucking once more until he had what he thought was a nice second collection of her underarm hair. She squealed continually throughout and both he and Sarah were satisfied with the music-like noise. Her voice was beginning to crack when Tom decided he had enough from her underarms.

Exhausted, Lucy watched as Sarah was plucked. Master was relentless and merciless with the older woman but couldn't get more out of her than a few grunts and foot stampings. It was as if she didn't feel what the younger woman had felt though this was definitely not the case. The truth was that Sarah's knob was beginning to react marvelously to this unusual bit of abuse and that was a good thing for her. At the end of it Lucy said softly to Sarah: "You felt nothing?" In reply Sarah said: "On the contrary I felt everything."

Tom let his charges alone for a while. He got out a newspaper and began to read. This may not have seemed very cruel but one must remember the terrible stretching of the arms of both Sarah and Lucy. Sarah didn't make a sound during this time but Lucy serenaded her with at first soft pitched moaning then moaning that was truly exquisite. She wondered why Master just didn't gag the bitch then realized he was probably enjoying it too.

Time ticked by and the stretching only got worse.

"Comfortable ladies?" asked Tom as he finished with the sports page and put the paper down.

"May I ask," gasped Sarah, "who won at cricket?"

"We thrashed the Poms if that's what you want to know," said Tom matter-of-factly. He went over to her and lifted her drooping head by her hair so that he could look into her eyes. They were narrow, squinting away the droplets of moisture from her forehead. He also noted her mouth was quirked in a kind of half smile.

He dropped his pants in front of her exhibiting a champion rod.

"You didn't answer my question," he said, waving his member under her nose. "Are you comfortable?"

"Comfortable enough, Master," Sarah lied through gritted teeth.

"Very well," said Tom, "you can thank me by giving this a polishing."

By polishing, Sarah understood he meant a licking of the helmet and eye and a general sucking of the length. This she did slowly, rhythmically knowing full well that the other woman was watching and turning up her nose at what she saw. How much this nose turning was for real she'd never know and perhaps that was just as well. She was there doing this thing for Master and the Italian was muttering something in her native tongue all the while. It could have been a prayer for deliverance.

The polishing lasted about ten minutes and then Tom was ready to really ram his point home. He went to the back of Sarah and got on with it. There was no need for KY gel or anything of that nature because his targeted female's pussy was already dripping quite nicely. This does not mean, however, that he was gentle. The extra movements of her body with his ins and outs put incredible strain on her already strained upper limbs and she could not help but cry out in pain. It was as if they were about to be pulled out of their sockets. "Am I hurting you?" he asked and withdrew for a moment. "Yes, Master!" cried Sarah with a great wracking sob. "Good," he said and got into her again, pushing and savaging her to climax with himself.

When he withdrew he was limp but eager to try Lucy's services. But he went around to Sarah's face first to kiss her on her pouting lips and wet with crying cheeks. And she thanked him ever so cutely for the kiss and for what he'd just put her through. He then came around to the younger woman's face and showed her his dick. "Well?" he asked. She closed her mouth tightly and shook her head. "It seems," he added, "that you haven't been sufficiently entertained. My bad but we can fix that."

Tom put his pants back on and removed Sarah from her awkward and somewhat excruciating position. He had her sit in a corner, naked, with her hands still secured by the handcuffs behind her back but her arms no longer in a problematic pose. "Stay!" he ordered and she stayed. Tears, he noticed, were still running down her face from the pounding he'd given both her upper limbs and her cunt at the same time. She looked pretty that way. "Love you," he added softly then turned to Lucy.

He took the darker woman down from her agonizing situation, marched her over to a St Andrew's cross, removed the cuffs from her wrists and bound her with leather thongs to the cross. This way her arms and legs were spread wide. Naturally, she howled in real agony shaking her head furiously when he secured her arms. They were still very sore and any movement, let along large movements of the affected muscles, caused terrible pain. But he didn't seem to care or, as Sarah knew, he cared a lot and was simply enjoying himself.

"I won't see if you're wet down under," said Tom, "because that's not part of the deal unless, of cause, you say so."

"No," murmured the helpless, glassy eyed girl through trembling purple lips.

"What was that?" asked Tom speculatively.

"No!" cried the girl louder through lips that managed to tremble even more.

Tom took a satchel down from one of the numerous hooks and showed her the contents. It was full of needles of various sizes in various pockets including the sharp surgical type a foot long. The sight frightened both Sarah and Lucy.

"They've been sprayed so you won't catch any nasty germs from them," said Tom. "They won't, however, be very pleasant for you."

"Mercy!" cried Lucy. "Take me down now!"

"And you will do what for me?"

"Nothing! Not that…filthy thing you want."

"Nothing for nothing I'm afraid."

Tom chose a small sewing needle with a pearl head to begin with slipping it neatly into the upper most part of her firm but large left breast. She hissed gently as it entered. She also hissed as the second and third went into the same general area. He did the same with her right breast.

"Not such a big deal so far," he said before skewering her left nipple with a needle. "Ow!" she cried and, when he shoved the second one mercilessly through the same spot but on a different angle crossing the first she made a wheezing sound with her voice and a huge droplet from her right eye landed on his hand. It was black from the mascara. He examined her face with his hand and said: "Are you going to be sick?" She looked at him in her pleading way but, for once, her face began to register surprise, even doubt. "No, not that," was her answer, streaks of black now running down her face. At this he showed her another needle and said: "For your right nipple then?" Uncharacteristically, she nodded in the affirmative and he proceeded to skewer away. Before long both of her nipples were crossed with tempered steel. "Lovely," he commented, adding more sewing needles to her left breast, this time going for the base of the breast. To even things out, he did the same to her other breast. "Can't have things uneven," he comments warmly.

Now she had sixteen needles in her and he was squeezing her already tortured left breast to add a third needle to the collection pinning her left nipple. This one, however, was going straight through the center. She struggled and screeched for this not to happen but it happened anyway. "Can I kiss you on the lips before administering the next one?" he asked her and she nodded in the affirmative. "Is that a yes?" he asked. She sniffed back a tear and said: "Yes!" It came out as a great galloping hiss. And he did kiss her, full on the lips, before pushing savagely through this terrible needle of needles. It left her gasping and shaking her now rather shaggy looking head.

"Will you give me more?" he asked ever-so-politely.

"No!" she sobbed and twisted in her bonds. "No more kisses. No more nothing!"

"Very well."

He took out a foot long needle and proceeded to shove it through one breast. He had medical training so he knew how to do this without either risking her life or causing her permanent damage. This does not, however, mean that there was any mercy on offer. The needle was strong enough to make it through without the possibility of snapping but thin enough so that he didn't need to make a small hole in her breast with another instrument in order to make the passage of it safe. In any case, she screamed more than Sarah had ever heard anyone scream but neither screams nor struggles could help her. The flesh was rubbery and unwilling but Tom had the strength and presence of mind to see it through. She simply had to suffer this supreme of all intrusions. And oh how she did suffer!

It took Lucy a while to gather her senses after this devastating assault on her femininity and to deal with the after shock that made her tremble all over with goose bumps as big as strawberries. Tom waited so that the needle which he then pushed through the right breast could also have maximum effect. It did, sending more screams Tom's way.

At the end of it she was definitely dripping down under and he was as hard as a post. Knowing this he whipped off his pants to show her. Through a red haze of suffering she acknowledged his change of appearance by uttering the word no. It sounded timid, even unsure of itself, but it was still no. He couldn't have been more delighted.

At this invitation, Tom took one of the long needles, found her knob amongst her voluminous vaginal hair and skewered it. She jerked at this swift violation, sobbed a great gulping sob at the sharp agony ripping through her nervouse system from that delicate point and said in a rocky, hesitant voice: "Now you can have your woman kiss me there, in my cunt."

"Maybe later," said Tom, taking a ball gag and shoving it in her mouth. "It's way past my lunch hour. Also, I'd rather fuck you or have you suck me off."

So, while Lucy remained on the cross with all that metal in her and a great red ball stuck in her mouth, making her drawl on her intensely hurting boobs, Tom took two candy bars out of his pocket. He ate one and shared the other with the still bound Sarah, happily hand feeding her. He also shared a canteen of water.

"So what do you think of Lucy?" asked Tom.

"I'm impressed, Master," said Sarah. "What you did to her even frightens me."

"Yes," he agreed warmly. "It's not often I have such a subject. You see her problem is she has grown up in a situation where sex of any kind is considered to be so evil, so foul that only through torture can she realize her needs in this area."

"And so, Master, you torture her."

"Yes but it must be real, not play. Otherwise she will never give in and never be satisfied. She knows what she must say and do for me to end her discomfort and slowly now she is relenting. She is coming around."

"She's a lot tougher, Master, than at first I thought she'd be."

"She doesn't enjoy what I am doing to her on the same level that you do. In fact, she tells me she has a rather low tolerance for pain but, as it seems, a rather high religious barrier to get over. She sees herself as a sacrifice and so it will take some doing to break her. The cross was her idea, the needles mine."

"What, Master, are you going to do next?"

"Remove the needles," he said, approaching the Italian girl and proceeding to do so. As Sarah was aware from less drastic past experiences, the needles coming out were worse for their victim than they had been going in. Still, it had to be done though not as slowly and as dragged out as Tom was making it for Lucy. And as bad as the regular needles were, especially the ones going into the center of the nipples, the long ones covering the most territory were absolutely horrendous. It took a lot of pulling to get them out and the droplets here and there of blood made Sarah, let alone Lucy who was experiencing it all first hand, feel queasy. The needle in her knob made the tortured girl wailed loud and long, despite the gag, as it came forth. Spittle flew everywhere.

After this was done, Tom removed the gag, wiped Lucy's face with a towel and said: "Had enough?"

"Don't," sighed the girl in a choppy voice. "Don't do any more I'm begging you. I am pleading with you."

"You'll suck me off and allow me to fuck you?"

Lucy shook her head at this and Sarah wondered what more Tom would do. She quickly found out when he took a bag hanging on a hook and began to rub the contents into the Italian female's wounds. At first Sarah thought it was just some sort of white powder then, as Lucy fought and yelled volumes for mercy, she came to realize it was in fact butcher's salt.

"Enough!" cried Lucy with widening eyes and streams of black washed down from her eyes. "You win! Do with me what you will! Take me! Fuck me! I will do with the other woman, too. Just get it off me! Get it off!"

"Very good," said Tom, a great big smile on his face. He took a bucket of water and threw it on her. She shivered with the impact and the coldness. He then proceeded to rub her down all over. "The effects of the salt will continue," he said, knowingly, "but now in a less potent way."

He untied her from the cross and had her bend down on all fours so that he could mount her from behind. This she did and, when he was finished ramming it home to her cunt, making her gasp as loudly as he could, he lubricated her asshole with juice from her cunt and rammed home there as well. Her face ran beet-red at this but she endured. She even endured having him make her lick his dick afterwards.

"What now?" Tom asked speculatively.

"Whatever pleases you," blubbered Lucy, rubbing her backside and then her very sore breasts.

"Would it please you to lick Sarah's nipples and cunt?"

"No!"

"Then do it!"

With some reluctance Lucy complied. By doing so she touched of sparks in Sarah due to the bobby pins being in the way and this resulted in the poor girl getting the pungent aroma and taste of fresh cum up close and personal. He also had the still smarting female lick the other woman's armpits which were stinky with sweat though not as hairy as they once were. Sarah marveled at this attention and endeavored to remain still during it all. It was not easy for Lucy to do the armpits action the way Sarah was cuffed but she managed to do so with great devotion to the taste and even greater results. She found herself sighing ever so contentedly and wishing she had a few more arm-pits to spare.

As the afternoon turned to night, Tom fucked Lucy three more times before letting her go. And when she went, she left the dungeon with her head held high, dressed in her white robe, and with a look of utter contempt on her face for Sarah.

"Satisfied?" asked Tom, seeing her out.

"Yes," said Lucy. "You live up to your reputation. I will see you again when I am in the need for your services."

"Did you like what you did with Sarah?"

"No. Not at all. You shouldn't have made me! You were utterly despicable. It was filthy lesbian stuff! ... Will you make me do such things again? … Such despicable things?"

"Yes."

"Good!"

All was quiet at Lucy's departure. Tom, in his wisdom, decided to end his work for the day and have Sarah, after a hot meal of three veggies, steak and an orange juice, and a shower, spend the rest of the night locked away naked in the dungeon. There she had nothing but a bucket to piss in and a small candle to provide some light. The one overhead fluorescent tube she was forbidden to use. Her hands were not tied because for safety reasons she needed the circulation but all she had to sleep on was some moldy old hay. And as she slept, she wondered what her last day with her Master would bring. She fingered reflectively the bobby pins still in her breasts and in her knob as she did so. Surely he had something really nasty planned for the morning and, truth to tell, part of her could hardly wait. He was, after all, so bad/ so good to her.

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