Some Call It Play

SOME CALL IT PLAY

By Charles E. Campbell

CHAPTER 2

STRENGTHENING OUR COMMITMENT

This Chapter, like the first one, is also dedicated to Master David and His slave girl, diana. I can find no words to express my thanks to them for all their candor,  patience, and forthright assistance in creating this story. It is important to note that this story bears no intentional suggestion of their life together. That is their personal shared commitment, and relationship. Thank You, Master David. And thank you, slave diana.

I know that many people would say that I am making this next part up. Fabricating it even. Just in an attempt to create a positive spin on what diana and I do. They would, however, be wrong. Horribly wrong. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. Our relationship became even stronger, more committed to each other as a direct result of our renewed exploration of our true selves in the dungeon space we call our own. Our love became deeper, more complete, as a result of My enslaving diana, and from her total submission to Me. We developed a closeness that neither one of us could have ever thought was possible. And furthermore, it is important to note that we do not engage in bondage, S & M, or any other like activities 24/7, or even daily. We sometimes have gone as much as ten days or even two weeks between our visits to our dungeon space. Our need for fulfilling this portion of our lives is real. As further evidence of our collective need for this fulfillment, I submit to you that it has been diana, as often as Me, who would suggest we spend time in the dungeon.

Before I continue, I wish to make it absolutely clear that I am in no manner, shape, or form, trying to make what diana and I share seem typical, common, or even normal. Those of you living in a vanilla world cannot possibly grasp the concept of what we do as being anything other than deplorable degenerate activities. However, for diana and I, there can be no other way to fuse ourselves from two into one.

By the beginning of the summer, I had begun to formulate a plan to make diana even more subservient to Me and My wishes. I knew that the only way to effectively do this would be if I was to make her submit to all sorts of things which she would never ever consider doing otherwise. To make her obey me in doing things she would vehemently oppose and avoid. By breaking down these barriers of hers, she would become more fully My slave, and therefore, happier.

A typical summer for diana and I usually revolved around mutual free time spent together. I always teach a workshop or two early in the summer. Grad students and local area teachers looking for a few extra credits are the enrollees. Generally, these workshops run for a week, sometimes two. Six hours per day, four days per week, garnering the student two credits each. Other than that, the summers are mine. We get to spend more time together because diana always works a reduced schedule, usually Monday, Thursday, and Friday. This leaves us a mid week “weekend” for our enjoyment.

As hard as it may be for some of you to grasp, slave diana is not at all comfortable with her body. She does whatever it takes to keep it hidden under wraps. Since she reached puberty, only her doctor and I have seen her naked. In fact, the first few months of our marriage, she would only undress in the bathroom, donning a nightgown, which she would only removed when safely tucked under the bed covers. It has taken her many years to get to where she is today.

Whenever we have gone to the beach, she always wears a bathing suit of a matronly one piece style. And this is hidden under one of My long sleeve dress shirts, or even a caftan to conceal even more of her. This was something I knew had to change.

The first Monday after My final class had ended, I announced to her, over dinner, that we would be going down to the Jersey shore on our mid-week “mini-weekend” for an overnight. Neither of us is much of a beach buff, but we both enjoy reading and relaxing in the sand, strolling the boardwalk at night, and dining in small clam bars. Over coffee I reached out and took her hand, saying, “I’ll clean up the kitchen. I want you to go and prepare yourself. Then meet me in our dungeon.”

Her training kicked in immediately, as she dropped her head down, averting her eyes as she replied, “Yes, Master.”

I cleaned up the kitchen and could hear the water running in the shower as she began to get herself ready. I knew that the butterflies in her stomach would be a constant companion to her as she prepped herself for the unknown that was to come. I wrote some directions on a sheet of paper and stuffed it into an envelope. Descending the basement stairs, I taped the envelope to the dungeon door and slipped outside before she could discover me.

Once she was ready, diana put on her white silky gown and went straight for the basement and her rendezvous in our dungeon. She stopped at the heavy wooden door when she saw My note. Opening the envelope slowly, her hands shaking slightly, she read My instructions:

“Remove your gown and enter our dungeon naked. Put cuffs on your wrists and ankles and make certain they are fastened snugly. Select three different whips for us to enjoy. Master”

Unceremoniously, she slipped the gown off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Pushing the heavy door open revealed the dimly lit dungeon. A shiver coursed up her spine, as it does each and every time she enters our private place. Heading straight to the chest, she removed the cuffs and buckled them tightly on her wrists and ankles. Then she approached the wall where all of our whips are in prominent display. Her eyes scanned through them all, her mind reliving the sensations each one was capable of. She selected a riding crop, a leather strop, and a soft, black suede flogger. Placing her chosen instruments of torture on the table, she knelt with her back to the cross and waited for me to join her.

I let her remain like that, kneeling, for almost half an hour, letting the cold hard concrete do it’s work on her knees. I knew her mind was running wild over the possible scenarios she might have to endure. I also knew that perspiration would be dripping down her sides from her unscented armpits, and that her pussy would be soaking wet as well from the anticipation.

At long last, I pushed the door open ever so slowly, letting the hinges creak under the strain. Instinctively, she looked up at the shrill ear piercing sound. And then, just as quickly, she lowered her head, hoping I hadn’t seen her infraction, and knowing that she would be punished if I had. I didn’t say a word, preferring rather to let the tension build in the absolute quiet of or concrete dungeon. A few moments later, I stepped down the stairs and strode over to My slave..... My wife. I studied her in her submissive nudity as she knelt before Me. “Worship My cock, slave,” I ordered her.

She raised her face only up high enough to see where My crotch was, and she undid My Levi’s, unbuttoning them and pushing them down around My ankles. Her hands folded behind her back, she sucked My already stiff cock into her warm, wet, inviting mouth. Touching Me with her hands, without My express permission, is a major infraction, and is subject to harsh punishment.  She knows this, and she is more than satisfied that I deem her mouth worthy or receiving me.

I reveled in her technique. Her tongue sliding all around me as she sucked me deeply into the back of her mouth. Tears streamed from her eyes as she fought to overcome the gag reflex that threatened to make her expel me from her caresses, but never once did she look anywhere but up at Me. A women’s face must be studied as she sucks cock. The nuances in the eyes , the stretching of the mouth, the lips distorted, the nostrils flaring as she breaths.

I am enjoying this too much. She brings Me to the brink far too quickly. Abruptly, I pull out and slap her across the face, hard.  “A greedy slave, aren’t you?  I thought you ate enough at dinner. Have no fear, you’ll get more after you’re marked.”

“Thank You, Sir, she whispers,” saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth.

“Let’s see what choices you made for Me tonight, shall we?”

It’s a rhetorical question. Requires no response. I take the three steps to the table and pick up the flogger, handling it, feeling it’s weight. Setting it down I examine the crop and then the strop. “I think we’ll warm you up with the flogger. Then we can use the strop for color, and the crop for accents. After that, I have a wicked little surprise just for you!”

Before she could catch herself, her eyes shot up and met mine. I glared back at her, and she lowered them to My feet. “Insolence will not be tolerated, slave. You’ve been trained better than that!”

I helped her to her feet and then lowered the winch and spreader bar. I clipped her wrist cuffs to the bar, then I attached her ankle cuffs to the rings in the floor, forcing her legs apart. I raised the winch, pulling her arms up. Not too tight. Just enough to stretch the skin on her belly and flatten her breasts a bit.

The flogger played all over her, shoulders to knees Front and back. A light pink hue replaced the normal pale white. No hard strokes now. I just wanted to get the skin to glow and start to heat up.

“You look ready to Me,” I assessed, laying the flogger down on the table. Let’s see what this will do, shall we?”

I held the thick black strop in front of her face before slowly and sensually caressing her pussy with it. The oiled leather glistened as her juices gradually coated it. Both sides. She was moaning softly as the waves of pleasure ever so slowly began to radiate to her core. Her eyes were closed. She was lost in the gentle ministrations she was receiving.

With a gentle tap on her clit, I stopped, and  I waited. She lifted her head to look at Me, and then spoke: “Please Master. Whip Me.”

“Certainly My pet.” I grabbed a handful of her thick hair and brought her face to mine, raping her mouth with My tongue as I kissed her deep and hard. Her breasts were heaving as she fought for air, before I broke the embrace. “I’m wish to mark you tonight, slave. Heavily. I may find it necessary even to draw blood.”

She didn’t hesitate even for an instant. “If it pleases You, Master, I would be proud to wear your marks and earn them with my blood.”

I didn’t answer her. Rather, I raised the strop high, and slashed it across her belly. She screamed loud and long as her skin erupted in fire. I didn’t wait. I had no intentions of making tonight a long sensual evening in the dungeon. This was to be different. I wanted, and we needed, to get past our “accepted” limits. Lines had to be crossed, barriers broken down. There would be no limits tonight.  This was to be a beating.

To accomplish this, I was going to have to get past My natural instinct of stopping when diana had reached her limit. I was going to have to flail into her, not heeding her screams, her begging Me for mercy, or even the damage I would inflict. I meant to hurt her. For her part, diana would have to place a never before required level of trust in Me. It wouldn’t be about strength or resolve for her, it would be finding the acceptance in her inner being for what I required of her. Somehow looking inside herself and offer herself up for us both. I raised the strop again and again; one stroke aimed at her breasts, the next her thighs, then her belly. Her back, ass, rib cage. I wanted the welts to meld together into one swollen angry testament to our commitment to each other. She twisted and turned with each lash, screaming, her head flying back and forth, as a nasty series of two inch wide welts emerged.

When it was over, she hung from her wrists. We were both bathed in sweat. But it wasn’t finished. Not yet. She had forgotten about the crop, but I hadn’t. I wasn’t going to shirk My duty now. We had come too far.

I lifted her head, and she opened her tear filled eyes. They  focused on the crop. Our love took a giant leap at that very instant, as she took a deep breath and said, “Please, Master.......... I beg You. ............Please. ............Beat me with our crop.”

Her head dropped back down. Broken. Resignation. Submission. Acceptance. Love. The limits had been removed. The barriers broken down. She had just given her body to Me, completely. I owned her now. No going back.

She took her beating, I won’t say she took it stoically, because she screamed and pleaded with me the whole time. She would have sold herself to the devil to make it stop. But deep within her she knew it would do no good. By the time I was through diana was a mass of welts from her armpits, which I learned were an exquisite target, to just above her knees. I put the crop down and stepped behind her, cupping her red hot tender breasts in my hands, and kissing her gently on the neck.

“Thank You, Master,” she whispered faintly.

I slid my right hand down and over her pubic mound, toying with her sopping wet engorged clit.

Her breathing quickly picked up it’s pace, and she shuddered as the violent climax took control of her.

I held her tight as the climax slowly ebbed and her body relaxed. Kissing her neck once more, I nibbled her ear and said, “Are you ready for your surprise, slave?”

“Yes, Master. Thank You.”

I kissed her and gave a big squeeze before letting her go. Her eyes followed Me as I left her alone for a few minutes in the dungeon. Upon My return she spied the bundle of cuttings I had taken from a forsythia bush in our yard. They make excellent switches. Something we had never experimented with before.

I selected a relatively short hard one and let her see it, before I rubbed her belly and breasts with it, so she could sense the texture of the fairly rough bark. “The switches are for punishment, diana. You raised your eyes to Me at least twice tonight. You will receive your punishment on your breasts, individually, and your thighs, front and back. I think three each should be sufficient, don’t you?”

“If I may differ, Master. Three is not enough for my lapses in training. Please give me five each.”

“So be it.”

I tapped her left breast with the switch, watching as the tortured teat bounced and jiggled. Then I slashed it with the switch. A thin dark line appeared almost at once as diana danced and screamed. The right breast received the same identical treatment. First bouncing and jiggling obscenely, then the slash. Left and right thigh front, then back followed, and each had received one blow.

By the fourth blow, blood appeared on her thighs and breasts. Scabs would form on these I knew. The fifth and final cut of the switch was administered with a bundle of five switches held together in my hand.  These were delivered with great intensity, drawing blood along the length of the five lines.

She was ready for the second stage of My plan. I undid her bonds and left her to sleep alone, on the floor. Locked in our dungeon.

Tuesday morning dawned bright and cloudless. A touch of humidity in the air told of a scorcher in the offing. We got up early, 5:30, packed an overnight bag, and hopped into My fully restored 1960 Triumph TR 3 for a leisurely drive from the Hudson Valley to the Jersey Shore. Diana had no idea as to where we were actually going. She has always left arrangements of this kind to Me exclusively. The sun was bright and the sky a vibrant blue, now highlighted by wisps for high clouds scattered occasionally. We enjoyed the ride and the occasional looks My car always draws. We arrived at the motel at 10:00, too early for check in, but the desk clerk was kind enough to let us use the back office to change into our suits. We grabbed a couple of towels from a room service cart and headed for the beach at Sandy Hook Two lane roads wound from the small no name motel out to Gateway National Park, and My intended destination, Gunnison Beach.

I parked the car, we gathered up our things, and headed for the sand. Each time I would spot one of the signs warning visitors that it was a clothing optional beach, I would distract diana’s attention in a different direction. I wanted for her to experience the hundreds of naked bodies without a hint of what was going on. Cresting the dunes, she stopped dead in her tracks as a grossly over weight naked woman walked right in front of us. Her meaty and pendulous breasts swaying back and forth as she strode through the loose hot sand. The fat on her massive thighs rubbing together from her groin to her knees, and sloshing around with each labored step.

“Strip yourself, slave,” I commanded, before diana could get a word out.

I saw the fear in diana’s eyes as she realized what it was I wanted from her. This was the first time I ever had carried our Master/slave commitment away from our house and our dungeon.

“Please, Master,” she implored Me. “Please. Don’t make me do this. I can’t! Not this. Not here!”

“Silence, cunt. Remove your bathing suit at once. I will not tell you again.”

She paused. Not moving at all. Her eyes scanning the sea of naked bodies that confronted her. All varieties and types of bodies. Hairy/Smooth. Fat/Rail skinny. Black/White. Male/Female. Straight/Gay. All manner of forms and shapes. Her breathing had become shallow and I knew her heart was racing out of control, so I intervened.

“It’s alright, My pet. It’s alright. You have nothing to be ashamed about. Most of these women would give their right arm to have the body you have.” I kissed her gently on te lips and said, “I will tolerate your insolence no longer. I wish to display that which is Mine! Strip!”

Gathering what little resolve she still possessed, diana slipped My denim shirt off her shoulders and handed it to me. Then, slowly, and with great trepidation, she pulled one shoulder strap of her bathing suit down, followed by the other the other. She pulled the suit down, exposed her welted breasts first. Bunching the suit up with her hands, she bent over at the waist, pulled it to her ankles, and stepped free of it. Standing up, she handed that to Me as well. I took it from her and looked proudly at My wife. My slave. Standing in the hot sand as I ordered her. Naked and heavily welted, for all to see.

“Follow me, slave, “I ordered her.

We found a spot to park our blanket down near the water’s edge. I wanted to make her walk as far as possible first. I applied sun screen all over her body, except on her breasts. I wanted them to receive a good burn as punishment for her reluctance to obey Me. I wasn’t sure whether she was more embarrassed by her public nudity or the fresh stripes and scabs her body bore from last night’s  whipping.

I kept My cut-off jeans on but removed My T-shirt. A Master shouldn’t be seen naked with His slave unless, of course, he is taking her. We stayed at the beach about three hours, occasionally strolling the shoreline among the nude bathers, cooling ourselves off in the mild surf, and reading on our blanket. 

When it came time for us to leave the beach, I wouldn’t allow her to get dressed until we had reached the showers. Then I allowed her to put her suit back on and have My denim shirt as well. Her breasts had gotten a bright pink color from their first ever exposure to the sun. Tonight would be particularly uncomfortable for her I was sure.

We discovered a small seafood restaurant a short few blocks from our motel and then we strolled the boardwalk for a few hours, people watching and holding hands as we went. Upon returning to the motel for the night, I pleasured Myself in her mouth and ass for a good hour. I placed her soiled panties in her mouth as a gag when I took her in the ass, as I didn’t want her confined by the thought of disturbing the other guests with her screaming. I hadn’t brought any implements with us for the overnight stay, so her tender burnt breasts were treated to being slapped with My hands as I fucked her in the ass doggy style.

We weren’t in any particular hurry the next morning, so we stayed in bed til about 9:00. I spoiled her with a pre-breakfast of cum deep in her throat before we headed off to a diner for breakfast. After eating a light meal that consisted of bagels, juice, fruit and coffee, we went back to the motel to check out. Diana started to get dressed for the car ride home, but I stopped her saying, “It’s a beautiful day again today. Why don’t he go back to the beach for a while this morning. We’ll check out of here, pack the car, and then we’ll be ready to leave right from there later this afternoon.

She agreed and started for the shower. I reached out and grabbed her arm and said, “I have a new rule for you, My pet. From now on, I want you to keep your cunt freshly shaven. Daily. Maybe we should investigate having a Brazilian wax every month or so. We’ll talk about that later. Anyway, I want you smooth at all times. Also, I want you to let your armpits go natural. No more shaving there. Is that understood?”

I could see she was about to protest. She detests the natural look of hairy armpits on women. The punishment of her sunburnt breasts must have stopped her mouth from saying something she would later regret. “Yes, Master. As You wish.”

After showering, diana started to don her bathing suit, but again I stopped her. “No suit today. Wear this.” I handed her the denim work shirt, the tails of which would just barely cover her buttocks and crotch. And then, only if she was standing up straight.

Her eyes pleaded with Me, but she held her tongue and obeyed. Her training was paying off.

I sent diana to the front desk to check out and settle the bill while I loaded th car. On the way over to the beach, I stopped at a gas station to top off the Triumph’s small tank. New Jersey has a quirky law that requires a service station attendant to pump the gas, so we both sat in the TR 3, the top down, as the man filled up the tank. His eyes kept ogling diana’s bare thighs. She tried to pull the shirt tails down and maximize her limited coverage. “Leave it alone, slave,” I corrected her. I was certain he caught more than a few glimpses of her smooth naked lower lips.

She was mortified. The embarrassment showed clearly on her face as the unkempt attendant snuck “covert” peaks at her. His ogling got progressively more bold when he realized that neither diana nor I was doing even the slightest thing to conceal her nakedness. He even went so far as to offer to wash the Triumph’s minuscule windshield to prolong his treats.

As we pulled out of the has station, I caught diana wiping a tear from her eye. “I could go for a cup of coffee. You want one,” I asked, not ready yet to confront her misery.

“I don’t care,” she answered curtly.

I spotted a Dunkin’ Donuts up the block and headed for the drive through. “Unbutton the shirt, cunt,” I ordered her as we pulled off te road. Without looking up, she did as she was told, allowing the sides of the shirt to droop open, exposing about four inches of her from her throat to her lap. I ordered and drove up top find a sixteen year old girl taking the money and handing out the orders. Her jaw dropped when she saw us pull up. The TR 3 sits so low to the ground that the girl hand to bend way out and down to give me the two cups of coffee. I thanked her and pulled out onto the road.

“Do you no longer love me,” she half whispered.

“What,” I countered, simultaneously floored and yet half expecting the question from her.

“Have you lost Your love for me,” she whimpered, fighting back the tears, and losing.

I knew she was upset, and I also knew why she was upset. The Dom in Me said to ignore it, make her work through it herself, while the Husband, and lover, in Me said I had to comfort her. Reassure her. I pulled the TR 3 into the parking lot of an abandoned Burger King and drove to the most remote corner. Killing the engine, I turned in My seat to face her. “Diana,” I began, wanting to make her say what she needed to say. “What’s wrong?”

Sniffles greeted me at first, then a brief but torrent flood of tears, before she mustered the strength and asked, “Do You still love me?”

I knew how deeply this ran, and I also knew she had more going on, so I answered, “What makes you feel that way, diana?”

She was sobbing more freely now. I saw her tits heaving. So it took several minutes until she got herself together enough to continue. “Why are You doing this to me? Why are You making me do this? You know how uncomfortable I am being naked. It took me years to get to where I could even let You watch me get undressed and not feel sick to my stomach at the thought. And now you have me naked on a beach with hundreds of people. You have me expose myself in front of some filthy man in a gas station, and a teenaged girl in a drive through.

“Have You stopped loving me?” Her red eyes brimming with tears looked into Mine. I held her gaze for what seemed an eternity before I replied.

“You ask if I have lost My love for you. If I still love you.

“I love you more right now, at this very instant that I ever would have believed was possible. I loved you more as we sat in that filling station and you didn’t cover yourself in front of that stranger. I was overcome with My love for you at the beach yesterday as you disrobed and followed me across the beach, naked, and wearing My whip marks in front of all ths people.

“You are My wife. You are the mother of our children. You are My best friend, and closest confidant. You are My lover. You are My slave. You share your life with Me, and for that I can never give you enough thanks.

“Why am I doing this, you ask? It is because I must take you to the most difficult places you can go to in order that you become more fully enslaved to me. It is because true and absolute slavery mandates that comfort, be it physical or emotional, must be stripped away. Forgotten. Relinquished. Banished. It is because you must learn to give yourself over to Me, in all fashion, manner, and form, if you are to really be My slave, and I your Owner and Master.

“Love? Do I love you? I ask you, slave, could I even entertain My expectations of you if I didn’t love you with My entire being?”

She reached over to Me with her tiny fragile hand and squeezed My hand tightly in hers. “I guess that when You told me you wanted to more deeply explore our S & M interests together that it was just going to be bondage and whipping. Forced sex. Those sorts of things. Making me do things that I secretly wish to do, but could never think to do. I never anticipated that it could, or would, go outside and beyond that.”

She stopped for a minute, looking at her bare feet. “I am sorry David. Both as my husband and as my Master. I am sorry that I could ever have doubted Your love for me and Your intentions with me. I hereby make this vow to You, that I will never again question Your reasons for doing anything with me. Furthermore, I give myself over to You completely, and I will strive to never again hesitate to follow a command.

“I ask that you please punish me for embarrassing You and questioning You. I have no right. Please punish me severely. I must be made to understand what my doubts could do to our love”

“Rest assured that I will punish you, slave. Be certain of it. And also, be certain that it will be the most severe punishment you have ever received.”

I leaned over and we kissed long and hard, holding each other tightly. Tears were running from both of us, mingling on our faces as we kissed and cried together, as one. We both became cognizant of the pinnacle we had just reached, and crossed, successfully.

“Now, let’s get back to Gunnison Beach. I want more people to see your welts, and I want your breasts to be burnt some more.”

My slave remained true to her word, doffing My denim shirt as soon as it was legal to do it. We walked hand in hand through the nude bathers, but this time, her welts, stripes, and bruises were a source of pride for her, and therefore, for Me as well.

A few weeks after our initial beach excursion I remarked to diana how much I liked the contrast between her bald pussy and her densely furry arm pits. It was My deepest hope that the hair would grow long enough to be easily spotted peeking out even when her arms were down at her sides. .Tank tops would be in order. I was pleasantly surprised when she informed Me that she really didn’t mind having hair under her arms, and that she felt having her pussy smooth made it that much more prominently displayed and exposed. It was she who suggested getting a Brazilian wax to make the area even more smooth. I told her to call Francine’s, her regular salon, and  make an appointment to have that done. She had no idea of how much I intended to display and expose her. But she was to find out three weeks later.

We got back down to Gunnison Beach one more time after her welts were all healed and had disappeared. I wanted her to experience being displayed and exposed one more time before the next stage of My plan of action. Like the first trip to the beach, I allowed her copious amounts of sun screen everywhere but on her breasts. The sun was more intense on this visit, as it was a hazy and muggy two days, and she even developed some blisters on the skin of her breasts.

After getting home late Wednesday afternoon, I informed her that we would be having three guests for dinner Saturday, and that they would, in all likely hood, be spending the night with us as well.

“Who are we entertaining,” diana asked, clueless at My not having spoken with her about it before this.

“Marie and a couple she’s been teaching summer courses with.”

Silence was her reply. She has always detested My step sister Marie, from the first moment they were introduced, better than thirty years ago.

Marie was the eldest daughter of My step father. My mother married Marie’s father five years after My father had died. I was already in My teens and Marie was long past adulthood, and living in a city in Europe, teaching at University there. We never lived together, Marie and I, and we saw each other very infrequently, but we did stay in touch with the occasional phone calls, Christmas cards, and the ever so rare meetings.

Marie is an adjunct Professor of Gothic Literature now at a small college in Georgia. She holds three Masters degrees and a PhD, has published a few books and numerous articles in prestigious journals. She is a much sought after lecturer and travels globally in response to the many requests she receives.

Diana has always found Marie to be pretentious and arrogant, two qualities she has little use for. In Marie’s defense, I must say that she never did anything or said anything to make diana feel this way, but the two on them are barely able to maintain a polite tolerance when in any proximity to one and other. Saturday would push that tolerance to the limit.

“They’re coming in Saturday afternoon after they visit West Point,” I explained. Marie’s guests are from New Mexico and have never been in this area before. They’ll spend Saturday night here with us, and then they’ll take the train down to New York Sunday, maybe catch a Broadway matinee, and then they’ll board their plane for New Mexico, and Marie for Atlanta.

Diana remained silent. “I’ll take care of dinner,” I offered. I was thinking a barbeque would be easy and nice. That way you won’t have to do much, diana. Having two other people here with her should make it easier for you.”

“I’ll try, David. You know I will. I just can’t stand Marie. You know that.”

“I know, I know. But it’s been over four years since she last came through here, and I’m sure that at seventy-five she’s slowing down some in her travels.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I’ll try and make it as pleasant as I can. I promise.”

“Thanks, honey,” I cooed as I hugged her. “I know you will.” I smiled to Myself, thinking of what was in store for My slave.

Diana had gotten the appointment at Francine’s for her Brazilian waxing for Saturday morning at 10:15. She had explained to me when she made the appointment that she would have to stop shaving for it to work. “You’ll just have to offer it up, Master,” she kidded Me, “if You want me that clean and smooth.

“I want all the details when you get home,” I said as she headed for the salon.

Upon arriving at the salon, she was ushered discreetly into a small private room in the back by a young very gay male hair dresser.  “Joanne will be with you momentarily,” he said, holding the door open for her. “Please get undressed and put on a robe from the drawer.” He indicated to a small cabinet with draws in it.

After he closed the door, diana looked around at the stark little room with a chair very much like the kind one would find in a gynecologist’s office. Diana got undressed and put on the flimsy paper gown, but she opted to stand, rather than climb into the chair. Looking around, she found a few magazines, but just as she was picking one up, a soft knock on the door caused her to jump. Joanne walked in.

“Good morning, diana,” she said cheerily. “Not the usual color or trim today, I see.”

The instant redness on diana’s face gave away her shyness and embarrassment. Joanne picked up on it right away, and quickly added, “Nothing to fear, diana. I’ve done dozens of these, even get them myself, see?” She lifted her short dress exposing her smooth white mound, with thick rings in each labia as well as another even thicker one through her hood. “Much easier than shaving around that steel,” she quipped. Dropping the hem of her skirt, she said, “Up in the chair now, feet in the stirrups.

It took all of an hour or so for Joanne to complete the waxing. “You’ll need to have this done about every five to six weeks,” Joanne admonished her, as they stood together in the full length mirror admiring the immaculate smooth expanses of skin. She paused a moment, tugged on the tangle of arm pit hair and asked, “You’re sure you don’t want me to do your underarms too. It’d only take a few minutes.”

“No, thank you, Joanne,” she said matter-of-factly, as she started to get dressed. “ I like them natural.” diana tipped her and came home, dreading the evening with My step sister.

Marie and her friends arrived sometime after 4:00 Saturday afternoon. It was obvious that diana was taken aback when she realized that the “couple” who were accompanying Marie weren’t a husband and wife as she had assumed, but were instead two lesbian women. One in her early thirties and the other was around our age. 

The younger of the two, Carole, was a stunning blond, with much more than a trace of Scandinavian genes in her angular and well articulated features. Very thin, almost too thin, no chest at all to speak of, with long slender legs that brought her to a solid six feet in height. A wide beaming toothy smile and shockingly blue eyes added to her girl next door beauty. 

Lesley was just the opposite. Short, barely five feet three, round in shape, and a good fifty pounds over weight. Overly large breasts sagging freely under a loose fitting t shirt. Her salt and pepper hair was cropped short, never requiring much more than a quick comb running through it.

Carole was wearing a very short pair of shorts, which allowed the curve of her buttocks to be seen clearly, with a pair of stiletto heels, which added a few more inches to her towering height. She had a skimpy tank top on which exposed almost all of her flat belly and pronounced rib cage. If you’ve got it, flaunt it, I guess. Lesley, on the other hand, wore a well worn pair of white Chuck Taylors with a  pair of cargo shorts that came well below her knees. 

They each were wearing a silver necklace with a large pendant shaped like half of a heart. The pendants, if joined together, would create one whole heart. They walked into our house with Carole’s arm draped causally over Lesley’s shoulder, and Lesley’s right hand buried deeply in the rear pocket of Carole’s shorts.

My wife is very liberal, and she is definitely not a homophobe, but she was really sideswiped by Carole and Lesley, and her initial reaction was surely obvious to the two women. “I’m Lesley,” the shorter one said, not offended by diana’s facial expression. She extended her right hand to Me. “This is Carole. She belongs to Me.”

I wasn’t sure if the true implication of her introduction was lost on diana or not, but I certainly understood it, and followed in kind, “It is My pleasure to meet You, Lesley,” I answered, meeting her more than firm handshake. “Let Me introduce you to diana, She is My wife,...........and My slave.”

Diana’s eyes shot wildly to mine as she heard My words. I could tell she was about to say something, but the intensity of My glare caused her to think twice before opening her mouth.

Acting as if this was an every day occurrence, I leaned in to Marie and hugged her, saying, “You look great, Marie. How was your trip?”

“It was fine, David.” Her voice sounded quite a bit older and weaker than I remembered. “I’m doing well, thanks. Not as much energy as I used to have, I fear. I’m thinking this may be my last year of teaching. I’d like to retire next May and maybe move to Portugal. We’ll see.”         

Carole showed no uneasiness at all in being left out of all conversation, but diana was completely bewildered by what she was seeing and hearing.

“Marie tells Me you’ve had Your slave branded, David. May I see it,” Lesley asked.

We all heard diana gasp out loud when she realized I had told Marie of our new relationship.

Lesley gave diana a stern look as she admonished her, “No one is speaking to you, slave. Kindly show Us the courtesy of being polite.”

“David, I’m afraid her training is far from complete. I would never tolerate such an outburst from Carole. You shouldn’t either.

“Now, I would like to see the brand.”

“I’d be pleased to show you, Lesley. I did it Myself, You know.”

“Really? Now I’m even more anxious to see it.

“May I?”

“By all means, Lesley.”

“Slave,” Lesley said to Carole, “Undress Master David’s slave for me.”

“Of course, Mistress,” Carole responded.

Tears were filling diana’s eyes, but she held her ground and didn’t move as the soft hands of Lesley’s slave unbuttoned the light summer dress she had chosen to wear. Carole stepped behind diana, unhooked her bra and slid it forward off her shoulders, exposing her now tanned breasts. Then she hooked her fingers in the cotton panties and pulled them down diana’s legs, slowly, holding them for her while diana stepped free of them. Finished with her appointed task, she knelt back on her knees.

“Here it is, Lesley. On her right thigh,” I pointed.

“Very impressive,” she offered. Her short stubby calloused fingers feeling the texture and depth of the scarred skin. “It’s as fine a brand as I have seen.”

“Look Marie,” Lesley said, “feel how deep He burned her.

Marie let her hand glide from diana’s buttocks to the brand and then all the way around to the front of her smooth waxed mound. Now diana’s humiliation was complete.

“I might consider doing that to carole,” Lesley reflected aloud. “Something small, not too ostentatious. Maybe on one of her little titties. Or even a more intimate location.”

A true slave, carole grinned slightly at the prospect of bearing her Mistress’ mark on her body. Diana’s face was was ashen at the thought of such tender young skin being seared and burned away forever.

“Slave carole, present yourself to My friends.”

“Of course, Mistress,” she replied very eager, hopping up from her knees and pulling off her top in one fluid motion. She deftly pulled down her shorts and stepped out of them. A casual toss and they were discarded as she assumed a practiced posture of presentation with her head held high, hands clasped behind her head, legs spread apart, eyes closed and mouth invitingly open.

She possessed the body of a nubile young teen. Very slight at the hip, perfectly flat hairless belly, and only the faintest hint of swelling at the breasts. Her thick nipples stood out proudly from her nickel sized areolas. She looked so fragile on her pencil thin legs atop the stilettos

Marie helped herself to a handful of the long honey blonde hair and pulled carole’s face down to meet her’s. The kiss was open mouth, and their tongues alternated exploring each other’s deepest recesses. It was twenty seconds before they broke the kiss. “Beautiful,” Marie half whsipered to her, licking her wet lips.

“Thank You, Mistress.”

“Slave diana,” I said, “bring our guests some wine and cheese. Slave carole, would you assist her?”

“Of course, Sir,”she answered happily.

Diana and carole headed off for the kitchen as I lead Martie and Lesley out to the patio in the back of the house. They made themselves comfortable on the cushioned wrought iron furniture while I lit the grill up.

“So how are you, Marie,” I asked, it’s been a long time.

She sighed and reflected before answering, her voice a shade weaker than I remembered. “I’m doing fine, thanks. Not as much energy as I once had. Even considering making this my final year of teaching. I’d like to retire next May, maybe move to Portugal or Andorra. We’ll see.’”

“So she’s okay with being Your slave, David?” Marie asked after I sat down across from her.

“Well, as I told you on the phone, we’ve engaged in S & M ands bondage activities throughout our marriage, Marie. But we are just now starting to take it to an entirely different level. I’m hoping that having Lesley and You here with Her slave will help in that regard.”

“Marie told Me that you’ve installed a basement dungeon, David,” Lesley inquired.

“Yes, we have, Lesley. I designed it and built it myself. I even built the devices that we have in it, like the pillory, the St. Andrew’s Cross, and the rack.”

“I’m so eager to try them all out,” She sais smiling, just as carole and diana came back carrying the wine, cheese and crackers. “It’s always such a pleasure toi use new equipment on such willing slaves,” she added, mostly for the benefit of carole and diana. The sparkle in Her eyes was obvious to us all!

The two slaves remained naked on the patio as the three of us talked. They were excluded f4rom all conversation, except when one of us was discussing our slave. I cooked up some chicken, beef and veggie kabobs and served them with a fresh tossed salad and French bread. We sat at the table on the patio, while the slaves ate theirs out of bowls on all fours at our feet.

When the meal had concluded, I suggested that Lesley, Marie and I clean up, and let the two slaves go and prepare themselves for the evening’s activities.

“Why don’t we send the slave to the dungeon and let them get ready. We can relax and have another cup of coffee while they prepare for Us.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea, David,” Marie responded, staring at diana. “I’m really looking forward to seeing what you’ve done down there.”

“As am I,” Lesley added. “I’m ready to play.

“Carole,” She barked, “I want you to go down to the dungeon and diana and prepare yourselves for Us! I fully expect you to make Me proud of you when we arrive. Is that understood?”           

“Yes, Mistress. As You wish.” She took diana’s hand and they left us alone in the yard.

“Lesley, David doesn’t .like to refer to His dungeon as a play space,” Marie corrected her friend.

“No?”

“I have a pet peeve about it actually, Lesley,” I explained. “I don’t think that what we do is playing. It seems to Me that it trivializes what we’re doing. It’s a wasted attempt at rationalizing it, or making it seem normal.”

“I see what you mean,” she said, her furrowed brow showing that she was mulling the idea over. “I guess I have also fallen into that trap of using euphemisms to disguise what we do.

“I agree wholeheartedly with you, though. It isn’t playing at all, and it shouldn’t be made light of like that!”

After their second cup of coffee was cold, Marie and Lesley excused themselves so they could go upstairs and get ready for the evening. I said I would straighten out the kitchen and wait for them there.

The kitchen was clean and I was sipping a third cup of coffee when My sister and her friend came in. Lesley was topless, showing all the rolls of fat around her belly and under her sagging breasts. All she was wearing was a tan buckskin breechcloth like the Plains Indians wore. On her feet were a pair of flat thong sandals.

Marie was dressed in a ruby red skirt. Very tight, very short. Her breasts were modestly covered by an alluring red and black lace push-up bra that lifted her smallish breasts up, accentuating her cleavage. She was barefoot, and in her right hand she held a small satchel.

“Are we ready to enjoy our slaves,” Marie asked?

“Certainly, Marie. I’m so happy you could be here with us, and I’m equally happy that You could be her as well, Lesley.”

While the three of us were upstairs, diana had given carole a quick tour of our dungeon, showing her the St. Andrew’s Cross, the stocks, the electric winches, the rack, and the whip display. “This is so amazing, diana,” carole remarked with obvious excitement as she tried to take it all in. “We must really do our best to present ourselves to them!”

“I’m guessing your husband likes the St. Andrew’s, judging by the brand you share with it.”

“He does bind me to that more than anywhere else, I suppose,” diana replied sheepishly.

“Then you’ll be presented on the cross for them. Get some cuffs on your ankles and wrists and we’ll get you set up. I have something else in mind for me!”

Carole set about binding diana tightly to the cross. Her arms were locked to the topmost eye bolts near the end of the beams. And her legs were spread apart very wide at the bottom. Carol’s hand found diana’s open pussy and she dipped two fingers in. “You’re as excited as I am, diana,” carole observed, much to diana’s embarrassment, as she licked her glistening fingers.

When diana was prepped and ready, carole lowered one of the winches as low as it would go, almost to the floor. She put cuffs on her own wrists and ankles and then placed a lock between the ankle cuffs, hobbling herself. She locked her wrists together and then hooked them to the cable from the winch. There was enough slack in the cable for her to slowly make her way to the switch the activated the motor. She made her way back under the winch and waited as the cable slowly pulled up her hands, then her arms, and then the rest of her, until she was finally hoisted to the top of the ceiling, dangling by her bound wrists. Her already flat belly was now taut. Beads of perspiration were forming in her clean shaven arm pits.

That was the spectacle that greeted us as we opened the door to the dungeon. I was mesmerized by the sight I beheld of the two naked slaves bound in My dungeon. Marie and Lesley, however, seemed far more enthralled by the dungeon itself, and they spent the better part of fifteen minutes examining the room and the various implement I had built.

“I love the stocks, David,” Marie commented, running her hands through the rough hewn wrist holes. I could see that she had spotted the dried blood from diana’s abraded wrists in the wood. “I can’t believe you built this place. It’s amazing!”

“Yes it is,” Lesley chimed in sitting on the rough wood of the rack. “I’m truly impressed with the attention to detail. It’s sop well thought out, and really looks like an authentic torture chamber from the Spanish Inquisition or a medieval castle somewhere!

“The decor sets the mood the instant you walk through that massively heavy door. The lighting, the devices, the whip display. Everything!. I can’t wait to try it out on our lovely and fortunate slaves!”

“Then let’s begin,” I offered.

Marie strode over to the cross and by bound wife and slowly began to caress diana’s naked flanks, her hand feeling the brand, lingering there as she inspected it more closely then she had upstairs. She supped diana’s left breast and watched as My slave’s eyes closed to half slits as the hands massaged the soft skin. Her hand slowly slit it’s way down across the belly and sought out the furrow between her splayed legs. Marie was enjoying the sensation of the smooth hairless mound. And then she suddenly shoved her middle finger deep into diana’s pussy, eliciting a sharp gasp as diana’s eyes flew open wide in startled shock from the unexpected  intrusion.

Marie probed the soaking wet hole, sliding it in and out freely as she rubbed the already swollen clit. She leaned forward and whispered in diana’s ear, “I know how much you dislike Me, cunt slave, and tonight I intend to give you even more reason to loathe and hate me even more! But know this, when all is done. When it all is over. I will present you and your Master with a present that will overwhelm you both. And possibly even soften your feelings toward Me.”

As she said the word ‘Me,” Marie pinched diana’s clit hard between her thumb and middle finger. Diana screamed in pain. Lesley, carole and I all looked in tyheir direction as she wailed. Marie held on for almost fifteen seconds, twisting and pinching the delicate bud before finally setting it free. She stepped back slightly and slapped diana hard between her legs. The sharp crack filled the concrete dungeon.

As if nothing was amiss, Lesley said, while fingering the pussy and ass of Her dangling slave simultaneously, “You have a lovely display of whips hanging on the wall. But there is one whip which is glaringly obvious in it’s absence.”

“What whip is that, Lesley,” I asked, scanning the wall foe a missing whip.

Lesley picked up the satchel Marie had brought and said, “This one!” as She produced a beautiful dark brown leather single tail. “It’d My favorite of them all. Have You used one before?”

“No I haven’t,” I responded. “But I have seen the damage they can cause!”

“They don’t necessarily have to cause damage. With practice, and in the right hands, they’re capable of covering the entire spectrum: Soft tickling caresses to searing slashes of ice and fire. Light soft pink lines decorating the skin, to deep gashes leaving permanent scars. D all this with every degree in between.

“Would You care for a little demonstration? I’d be more than happy to provide You with some instruction to get You started. Both You and Your slave will become even closer through it’s kiss.”

“Certainly Lesley. Thank You. I’d like that very much.” I looked over at diana and saw th panic in her eyes, as she heard My answer. She too had seen videos of single tail whippings and it always made her shudder in fear.

“Darling,” Lesley whispered to carole as her hand became a blur of activity in Her slave’s pussy, “Would you mind terribly?”

“Of.......c....c.....course n....not, M.....Mi.....Mistress,” she stammered as a wave of orgasm took hold of her. P....Pl.....please.........please....wh.......whip me!”

Lesley took the whip in Her right hand and lest the rest of it crumple to the floor at Her feet. My eyes went back and forth between Mistress and slave. I could see that they were both going inside themselves to some inner place. A place they had both been before. A place  where they both shared what they were once again about to share.

Carole’s eyes opened first, as she hung by her wrists, her hands now a deep reddish purple color. Lesley’s eyes opened few moments later and met and held those of her slave. An ever so slight nod of assent from carole indicated that she was ready.

“I’m not a believer in warm-ups, unless the slave really requires them. I much prefer to watch the reaction to the initial strokes. Before the endorphins  have a chance to kick in. Better for me. Better for the slave.”

Lesley walked behind carole and studied the naked body hanging in waiting for the kiss of Her whip. She seemed to be sizing up, measuring even, the distance between Her and Her subject. Then, suddenly, and with lightning speed, Her arm came back and then forward as the whip swished and snapped, wrapping completely around carole’s slender waist, and cracking just above her pierced  naval. The ensuing scream from the slave was unlike any I had heard before. More like the wail of a banshee, as the skin tore in a three inch long gash half an inch wide at the point of impact.

“Some pointers,” Lesley began, speaking over the screams and tears of Her slave, seemingly uninterested in her suffering. “You must keep Your eye right on the spot where You want the whip to strike. Never take Your eyes from that spot. Your hand will quickly learn to place the kiss of the whip, the tip, right where You want it to kiss the slave’s flesh.

“Try and use Your wrist, not Your arm. If done properly, You shouldn’t break a sweat during a lashing. Have patience. Allow each stroke to ne savored, both by Your slave and by You. Allow the welt to develop so You can determine if You want the follow up stroke harder or softer. You will learn how to read the welts as the swell. Also, waiting between the strokes allows the slave to calm down a bit. To get past the pain from the previous lash. And, most importantly, to anticipate the next stroke. Where will it land? Will it be harder than the last? Listening for the telltale swish of the leather just before the kiss cause the skin to explode in a precise fiery ball of pain.”

Carole’s wails had ebbed down to short sobs. I could see by how she hung in her bonds that she had gained control of herself, and was, in fact, anticipating the next stroke. She didn’t have long to wait. In a blinding flash, Lesley struck. The whip coiled around carole’s pelvis, wrapping itself around her until it’s evil snap struck her left cheek, a mere inch from the deep crevice in back.

Instantly, carole was wailing again, Twisting on the chain that hung her in offering to the whip. Drool escaping from the sides of her mouth. A swollen red line began to appear, encircling her tight ass.

Lesley didn’t wait this time, instead, She brought the third lash right away, slicing the slave across her narrow chest, culminating on the areola of carole’s boyish left breast. Carole had lost it now. I saw a steady stream of urine running down the insides of her legs.

“She’ll clean up after herself when we’re through,” Lesley said, angry at her slave’s inability to control her bladder under duress.

The suspended slave’s lithe body dripped in sweat as she hung suspended off the floor. Her hands had long lost feeling. I glanced over at the bound diana, who just stared with her eyes transfixed at the spectacle she had been witnessing. Marie stepped over to carole and dipped the fingers of Her right hand into carole’s pussy. “She a slopping wet mess, Lesley!”

“I’m not surprised, Marie. I’ve never come across a pain slut like her before. Pleasure her a bit for Me, would You? Just don’t let her get off just yet. She needs to earn that. Don’t you, cunt?” She added rhetorically to Her slave.

“Yes.....Mistress,” came the weak reply. “Whatever pleases You.”

Marie had obviously spent some time with carole before, as She had her twitching almost right away. But Marie kept a close watch on the slave’s face, looking to telltale signs that her release was nearing. Then, at just the last possible moment, she pulled her fingers out and raised her hand to carole’s face. She waited while carole licked and sucked her juices from the extended hand.

“Another thing the single tail is useful for, David,” Marie started again, “Is that it can isolate specific targets. This technique is more difficult to master. One must become very accustomed to the length of the whip so You can judge exactly where You should stand. Again, keeping Your eyes fixed on the intended target is even more crucial for this.

“Notice, if You would please, how her mound stands out. Pale. Raised. Untouched?”

“Yes,” I said, staring at the gentle rise above the hairless slit.

Lesley stood stock still staring at her chosen target, measuring the distance, making mental calculations. Then she waited. She raised the whip and lashed out in a smooth, practiced motion. The thin leather strip at the tip kissed carole’s mound an inch above her slit. The high pitched snap instantly making her jerk and scream. As she continued to dance dangling from the chains, a thin bright crimson line erupted on the tender skin. Lesley picked another target and laid the whip just under the navel this time.

“Have You ever whipped your slave in the arm pit?”

“Yes, I have. Not often, though.”

“I thought You might have. An excellent spot. Ultra sensitive. The softest skin. Easy to damage. One must be careful here. But still, all in all, it is one of My own favorite places.”

Expertly, the whip snapped in the taut right arm pit of Her slave. Carole passed out mid-scream, hanging limply from her cuffed wrists. The whip had bitten so hard that it split the tender skin, opening a two inch long cut. 

Nonchalantly Lesley strode over to Her slave and back handed her across the face, splitting her lip and rousing the inert woman. She turned Her back from carole and said, “Would You like to try it, David?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Fine. Stand here,” She pointed, handing me the whip. “Let’s try a few wrap-arounds first. That’ll help You get the feel of it. She turned My shoulders square to carole. “Move up a bit. A little more.......Good!. That’s fine

“Now remember. Keep Your eyes where You want the whip to strike. Don’t take Your eyes from Your target.” I stared at carole’s all but nonexistent breasts for a few moments and then lashed out. The whip cracked as it sliced around her back and across both tits at once, snapping on the outside of her left one.

Carole’s response was to jerk and scream, causing me to flinch. I had used only the barest minimum of effort, far less than what the crop would have required to elicit that level ofresponse for sure.

“Not bad for a beginner. I think You’ll pick this up quickly. Why don’t You wrap her thighs with the next one.”

“Okay.” I lowered My eyes a bit to the long shapely legs and raised My arm. Again the wicked swish of the leather cutting through the quiet of the dungeon as the whip wrapped around her legs. Twice, before snapping on the back of her right thigh.

“Her legs aren’t as wide as her chest. That’s why the whip went around twice. You’re too close,” Lesley admonished Me. She had to raise Her voice for me to hear her over carole’s screaming. I looked over at diana. She was ghostly pale, mentally placing herself in carole’s bonds.

I whipped carole three or four more times before she passed out again. The single tail is an exceptionally cruel and wicked whip. Very effective.

“I would be very pleased if You would accept this whip as My gift to You and Your slave, David,” Lesley said, as I tried to hand the whip to Her. “Your display needs a single tail in it.”She nodded towards diana adding, “And she needs to learn the touch of it’s kiss!

“Would You please be so kind as to lower her?” Lesley gently caressed Her slave’s flanks as I hit the button to reverse the winch. As her feet made contact with the cold floor once again, her knees started to buckle. “Stop!” Lesley called out.

I shut off the motor. Lesley looked into carole’s half open eyes and leaned in to kiss her fully, but softly on the mouth. The intensity of the kiss grew rapidly, and Lesley’s right hand found carole’s clit hidden in the smooth folds. She started rubbing it hard and fast. In less than ten seconds carole was moaning and shaking in the throes of a powerful orgasm. But the Domme didn’t stop, rather, she redoubled Her efforts with both hand and mouth, brining the slave to a seemingly endless succession of cumming.

When She finally stopped, Lesley just watched carole’s face until the eyes opened once again and some degree of awareness replaced the blank spent look. I saw Lesley raise an eyebrow, and carole took the cue, saying, “Thank You for whipping me, Mistress. Thank You for whipping me, Sir David. Thank You for allowing me to cum, Mistress.”

Lesley nodded to Me and I lowered the cable until Lesley could undo the cuffs without having to reach up for them. “Clean up your mess, cunt,” Lesley ordered sternly, pointing to the puddle of urine carole was standing in. She dropped to her hands and knees, bowed her head, and started lapping up the cold urine.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        “Now,” Marie announced, “I want to use diana!”

“Nothing would please Me more, Marie. Lesley, please feel free as well. What is Mine, is Yours!”

Marie stood in front of  the cross feeling diana all over on her breasts and belly. Occasionally she would let her hands drift over the hairless mound and down onto the puffy pouting lower lips. She toyed with the dense tangle of hair in the arm pits, all the while never taking Her eyes from diana’s. At long last, She dipped two fingers into diana, one in her pussy, the other up her rectum. “She’s a wet one. Especially for someone her age. She’s more of a slut whore than I thought.!”

Diana’s face reddened deep as her secrets were revealed by the person she most detested and reviled. Marie started to slap diana. Her face, breasts, belly and thighs. No rhythmic pattern. Sometimes hard, other times lightly. Some times the same place would get slapped four or five times without a break, sometimes She would adhere to a sequence: face, left breast, right breast, stomach, left thigh, right thigh. Repeated. Marie kept at it until diana was glowing a pink to light red splotches. Then she stopped.

Slipping a finger through the labia she wallowed in the dank wetness, then made the slave lick her own juices from the fingers.

Marie was now primed. Still using just her hand, she began the assault anew, redoubling Her efforts, only this time it varied between an open hand and sometimes a closed fist. Diana started to cry. Her lower lip was split. Marie pummeled My wife’s breasts, working like a boxer on a speed bag. A few times she even kneed My slave in the thigh and crotch.

When it had ended, Marie was winded, and diana had slumped over, hanging off the cross, bathed in sweat and crying freely. I tried to catch My wife’s eye, hoping she wouldn’t forget her manners, but it turned out I had nothing to fear. Ever so slowly. Proudly. Defiant even. Diana lifted her head and said, “Thank You, Mistress Marie, for paying attention to this worthless cunt slave.”

Lesley was watching the broad smile grow on My face. “Nice training, David. Very impressive!”

“Get over here, bitch,” Marie screamed at carole, grabbing her by the upper arm. “Eat this cunt out. I want to hear her screaming and begging to cum!”

The young slave got down on her knees at the foot of the cross and buried her face in diana’s open legs. Leaning in, she covered the wet hole and stated sucking and nibbling. Marie resumed her punching of diana again. No slaps anymore. Just hard balled up fists to the stomach and breasts. Diana was lost in a sea of pain and pleasure, no longer able to separate one from the other. Unable to distinguish one from the other. She succumbed to the overwhelming sensory input. Just as diana started begging for permission to cum, Marie hit her under the left eye with a hard right cross that drove diana’s head back against the cross, and knocked her out cold. She never enjoyed the incredibly intense orgasmic waves that coursed through her.

My slave awoke a few minutes later, aching and sore. She could taste the blood from her split lip, and her left eye had swollen almost shut. She had a persistent Charley Horse in her left thigh and her stomach hurt like mad. As the fog that swirled around her head began to clear, she became aware of a strange sharp painful tugging sensation on her breasts. Gazing down, her eyes focused a bit more, and she saw that both of her nipples had metal alligator clamps biting into them. Each clamp had a cord tied to it, and the cords ran from the clamps up to the ceiling and then down, culminating in heavy weights, which effectively pulled the breasts up and out at the same time.

“I see you’ve deigned to join us, slave,” Marie mocked her. “Glad you could make it.”

“Thank You, Mistress Marie,” diana offered feebly, her tone had lost it’s sarcasm, replaced, instead, by sincerity. “I hope I wasn’t disappointing to You.”

Marie studied the bruised and battered face, cupping her chin gently. “You are welcome, slave. And no, you didn’t disappoint Me at all. Quite to the contrary in fact. You far exceeded My expectations of what you could take.”  

I flicked the weights slightly, getting diana’s attention immediately. “Lesley has a gift for us, darling. What do you say?”

“Thank You, Lesley, but it really isn’t necessary. This has been our pleasure to have You all here with us!”

“Nonsense, My pet. The pleasure has been all Mine!

“Carole, fetch My bag!”

“Yes, Mistress.” carole sprang to her feet and padded over to the table where Lesley had set down Her bag. Handing it to her Mistress, carole resumed her place kneeling at the foot of the cross on the cold concrete.

Lesley reached into the bag and removed a small wooden box. She opened the box and held it toward Me. The box contained two different sized pairs of nipple jewelry. The larger pair had a bar three inches in length and about 3/8 of an inch in diameter. Suspended from the bar was another piece of 3/8 inch metal in the shape of a “U.” Half inch balls capped the ends of the bars.

The second pair was identical, except that it was smaller, the bars being 3/4 of an inch long, made of 1/8 inch metal, with the “U” being just large enough to hang under a nipple. All of the jewelry had been crafted out of the finest surgical steel.

“Marie, would You please be so kind as to prep her for Me?”

“Of course, Lesley.

“Carole, please?”

Marie pulled on a pair of latex gloves that carole handed her.  She poured some alcohol on a sterile pad and bathed diana’s breasts in it. Satisfied, she took a bottle of Betadyne solution from carole and painted diana’s chest. She stepped back slightly when She was done.

Lesley took diana’ left breast in Her hand and placed two marks on it, deep behind the areola. Eyeing it carefully to see that it was straight, She nodded to carole, who handed her Mistress a long thick needle. I saw diana close her eyes in anticipation of what was to come. Marie set the point of the needle against one of the marks and slowly pushed it through the soft flesh.        My slave was stoic in her acceptance, whimpering, not crying as the needle bored through her tit. Once it popped through the other side, carole handed a bar and “U” to Lesley, who pushed the bar into the fresh hole as the needle was pushed out. It was a tricky maneuver, requiring three hands, so carole held diana’s breast, so that Lesley could juggle the bar, “U”, and needle.

Once it was set in place, Lesley tightened the ball caps at the ends. She didn’t stop to admire Her work. Instead, She pierced the other breast exactly as She had the first one.

Carole handed Lesley a smaller thinner needle. “Here, Marie. This should be the proper size.”

Marie got a pair of gloves and the pen from carole. After donning the gloves, she marked diana’s nipples with the pen, deep. Right at the base of the nipple where it grows from the areola. Accepting the thin needle from Marie, she lined up the needle with the mark She had put on diana’s right nipple and slowly increased the pressure, wanting to make the pain last as long as possible. Diana gritted her teeth to strengthen her resolve. I know she didn’t want to give in to the pain. A loud hiss came from her clenched teeth as she inhaled, but that was it, and the needle was through. Marie fitted the smaller bar and “U” and then did the left nipple.

With the four bars set and the ball caps tightened, Marie opened the alligator clamps. “Ow!” diana chirped. We all looked and admired the steel in My slave’s breasts. The fit was snug enough to force the nipples to stand out hard and straight, and her areolas were pinched together just slightly, causing them to appear more puffy and pointed.

“I think the track is next,” Marie said? “Carole, remove this slave from the cross and bind her to the rack.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Carole undid the bonds that held diana to the St. Andrew’s. She had to help lower her arms, as they had gone to sleep. Once she was down from the cross, carole took her by the arm and helped her over to the rack.

Of all of the equipment I made for our dungeon, I think that I am most proud of the rack, both from an aesthetic view as well as from the carpentry skills it required. All of the wood I used had been salvaged from construction sites and junk piles, so it has a  weathered, used appearance. I modeled the spool for the rope from the idea of a garden hose caddy. Even the ratchet was made of wood, with the locking mechanism controlled by a bungee cord. The rough bed was littered with gouges and splinters, and I found an old piece of hawser from a school gym to coil around the spool. I left the feet chocks rough, like the stocks.

Diana laid back against the bed and lifted her feet into the chocks. Carole locked them in place and then tied diana’s hands together with the stiff thick rope. It only took a few turned of the handle on the spool and diana’s hands were above her. Not tight, but already inescapable and uncomfortable.

“Marie, if You would be so kind as to do the honors,” I offered.

A sly grin on her face told us all that She was looking forward to this. Taking the handle, Marie began to turn the crank. The slow steady click, click, click, of the ratchet the only sound.

Diana slid up as far as her chocked feet would allow, and then the tension really started to build. All of her joints began to ache at the same time. Marie stopped her cranking and leaned over to feel diana’s tight skin. She lingered at the hairy arm pits, twirling the hair and giving it a few teasing tugs. “Three more clicks, diana,” She said. “I want you to take three moire clicks for Me. Will you do that?”

“Y......yes...........Mistress.  Th.....thank You.”

Fear covered diana’s face as Marie once again took the crank ion her hand. Slowly she turned it. “Click.” She paused and assessed diana’s reaction. Diana nodded slightly to Her, and Marie turned the crank again......”Click.”

“That’s two, diana. Only one to go. Ready?”

“Y.....yes. Please.”

Marie clicked the ratchet once more. Sinews showed the tightly stretched skin on diana’s tortured body. Her hands had already gone a deep red and her feet had been pulled into an awkward angle.

Marie unzipped Her skirt and stepped out of it. Stepping up on the rack and straddling diana’s face, She squatted down, lowering Her crotch onto diana’s mouth. “Pleasure Me, slave. And make it last!”

I saw Marie’s eyes close as diana’;s tongue sought out it’s moist hairy goal. Lesley nodded to carole who then wiped diana’;s cunt with alcohol. She twitched a bit at the sudden cold in her pussy, but the rack didn’t allow any freedom of movement. After the alcohol bath, carole applied Betadyne to the area. Lesley had the same thin needle that had been used on diana’s nipples. Taking a pair of forceps, she pulled on diana’s clit, exposing the hood. She lined up the needle by eye and in one quick stab, She ran the needle through the clit hood. A muffled scream escaped from under Marie’s pussy. carole handed Lesley a ring with a short chain and disk attached to it. Marie slid the ring into the new hole and closed the clasp. She held the disk for me to read. On one face in bold raised letters it read: MASTER DAVID. On the obverse side, engraved in lower case letters, it read: slave girl diana.

“Thank You;, Lesley,” I said admiring it in My hand. “It’s beautiful.”

Diana’s humiliation and enslavement was almost complete. So many milestones had been attained. Limits passed, removed, destroyed. She had been naked in front of strangers before at the beach. But now she was naked. Before strangers and submitting to them, for Me! She was also naked and submitting to someone she knew! Someone she abhorred! Detested! Reviled! She performed oral sex on a person other than her husband for the first time in her life, and it was a woman! There was just one remaining barrier that had to be removed. Torn down. One last taboo that had been be exposed.

Marie removed the latch on the spool and cranked the handle in the opposite direction, loosening it. While She untied diana’s hands, carole unlocked the chocks that had held her ankles. Diana lay still, the dull ache in her joints now different than when she was bound. Different, but still intense. Still painful.

I ordered her to get on her hands and knees on the rack. Head down, resting her arms from hand to elbow on the rough wood, with her ass facing us. I knew this was going to be hard for her, but I also knew it was going to be the easiest thing I had planned for her.

“Carole,” I commanded, “Ready My slave’s ass for Me. I want to use her.”

“Yes, Sir,” she answered. She knelt on the concrete floor and bowed her head in, her tongue seeking out the tightly puckered musky hole. Diana buried her face in her hands, trying to hide form the shame of it, but this could not be allowed. “Lift your head cunt. Open your eyes, show us your face.”

Her head came up slowly. Her face red. Mortified. Tears welling in her eyes. No one had ever performed analingus on her before, and the dichotomy  of the pleasure she was receiving and the repugnance of what was happening was tumultuous to her.

Lesley wanted in on the action and removed Her loincloth. She laid it with reverence on the rack and sat with Her legs open in front of diana. “Taste Me slave. Pleasure Me.”

She took hold of diana’s head with Her right hand and pulled her face down into the tangled mass of salt and pepper pubic hair. Carole was rimming diana now, her head thrusting back and forth as her wet tongue pushed more easily passed the tight sphincter.

I couldn’t wait any longer. Grabbing carole by the hair, I tossed her aside, sensing her sprawling to the floor. “Open yourself for Me, cunt.”

Diana reached back with both hands and spread her cheeks as wide as they would go. Her cunt glistening and open. Her ass soaked in saliva and ready. Marie leaned over and let a long dribble of spit fall into the open hole. I spit on it as well. I stepped out of My jeans ans slid My rock hard dick up and down in the crack, lubricating it in the wetness.

“I’m waiting, slave,” I mocked her.

She reached back with her right hand and took hold of Me. Guiding the tip to her rear entrance, she held it there. I waited, wanted her to have to anticipate it all. Not knowing when the oresurre would begin. She held My cock poised at her ass, while Marie and carole watched, and all the while, she was lapping at a strange woman’s cunt.

Very slowly and deliberately I pushed forward, watching as the hole expanded, growing wider to accept Me. I pushed forward until I was buried as deeply as I could go. Diana had put her hand back on the rack, moaning from the pleasure deep within her. I stayed still. Not moving. Feeling her muscles involuntarily trying to expel Me When the contractions ceased, I pulled out almost all the way, and then drove forward. Hard. She yelped in shock. I stayed buried again and waited for her to relax. Then I began a slow steady rhythmic assault. I never took My eyes from her hole. Watching as she caressed Me with her tightness.

Lesley came first, diana’s ministrations brining Her to a noisy cum. I started pounding into her harder, and faster. Fury overtaking My ravaging of her ass. I felt My own release near. I dumped My seed deep within her bowels, something else she can stand the thought of, and I didn’t pull out until I had gone soft.

“Clean her, carole,” Lesley commanded. Carole got back on her knees and worked to suck all My cum from the still gaping hole. I didn’t know she was saving it in her mouth until Lesley said,” You had better share, slave.”

Carole got up and walked around the rack. Kneeling in front of My slave, she cupped her chin, bringing their faces together. As they kissed carole spit my cum into diana’s open mouth and held the kiss until diana swallowed the concoction of semen, saliva, and ass.

I took diana by the hands and helped her off the rack., her breasts and their new adornments jiggling. When I was sure she was steady on her feet, I pushed down on her shoulders, making her kneel at My feet, next to carole. “Have you anything to say, slave,” I asked rhetorically?

“Thank You, Master David. Thank You, Mistress Marie. Thank You, Mistress Lesley. Thank you, slave carole.”

My wife/My slave. Complete.

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