I was a free man once, not very long ago, but it seems to me to have been in another life. I can recall all of the emotions of freedom from that existence, but it seems to be the remembrance of something from childhood that has been long left behind.
I am a slave now, a completely domesticated and subjugated body-slave. The fact that there are others under me who I am allowed to mistreat and dominate as I am myself enslaved and dominated affords me the primary satisfaction of my existence. No, that is a lie, I prefer being a slave and that is my primary life satisfaction.
Once I had fancied myself a domineering and virile lover, holding my women as my personal slaves and enforcing my every harsh command with authoritative and ruthless force. There was not a woman I ever enjoyed that did not feel my hand and belt rip her bare bottom. I spanked them and whipped them and commanded them to grovel before me. And they did so. I was a king. I had the power. But that was another life, an eon ago.
I had met Linda at an orgy, she had been the one you would notice first at such an affair, the blatant one who gets the action going. She wore nothing except a pair of nearly transparent cherry panties with the magic number 69 on them in large golden threaded splendor. Little bits of sparkle glass embedded in the numbers caught the light with ever-changing sparkling star points.
She had heard of me before, from other wild nympho girls that experienced the controlling power of my hands. I wanted no time in preliminaries. I did not ask her for her desires or permission to fulfill my decipherings of her desires. I did what I pleased with her. I put her across my lap and dropped her panties and spanked the living shit out of her. She bawled and protested but I could feel the heat generating through her and soon the wetness spilling out of her staining the front of my pants. She bounced her tail up and down emitting musical grunts of pleasure. I gave her to others to spank and then I placed her on her knees kneeling in a corner and set up a blow-job line. As she gave head to over a dozen men I watched her vast enjoyment, hot sticky come coating her face and breasts as the loads filled her mouth and spilled out onto her white skin. She was really digging it and so was I.
Damn fool that I was, I married the bitch without the waiting period necessary to penetrate the many mysteries of her personality. I would still be a free man if I had taken the time to explore the facets of her character. I assumed her to be a masochist, I was wrong.
The first weeks went well, an orgy of sex and spanking. I kept her tail hot in all manner of ways, both inside and out. I tried out mild bondage on her and she went for it. Everything seemed to be going well for me. It was the deceptive lull before the storm. Never trust a fuckin' woman. I should have been warned by meeting her friends, dominating broads every one of them, real manbreakers. I did not heed the signs.
Her subtle hints concerning the pleasures of shared domination did not alert me either.
"The man is the king and the woman is the slave," I answered her, slamming away at her pert bottom. I spanked a deep sheen of crimson into her, feeling that enrantured reaction to the spanking which I always aroused in her. So how could I possibly have realized what a bitch and a sham she truly was?
I was totally unsuspecting that grim day we went to the whorehouse in Los Angeles, the special place that catered to the most bizarre of tastes. There were strange rumors floating around about it, when you have a reputation for beating the asses off of your girls you hear things. They said that this place, The Pleasure Dome, specialized in freaky sex shows and way out attentions paid the hosts by the girls. Well, that sounded all right.
My Linda had talked to me about the place, how groovy it was, how she knew the madam and many of the girls, what good friends they all were. I asked her how she knew these people as I teased her by spanking her in baby diapers. She told me that she used to go there for parties with her friends. She told me about the shows and the details she related to me in that sexy cool voice of hers had me panting for the real thing.
And so we went. It started off all right. We were admitted by a bouncer-type who had the look of an ex-football jock. You know the type. The Madam of the house greeted Linda like a long-lost sister. Then she gave me the once over, and there was something about the way she appraised me that sent chills up my spine, although I couldn't really tell what was wrong. She was a stunner herself, all soft white skin with piles of black hair on top of her beautiful head. She was more out than in of a bizarre black leather outfit complete with thigh high boots. Really kinky. Her name was Vanavia.
"This is my husband, Frank," Linda told her, proudly.
"Glad to meet you Frank," Vanavia purred. She kissed me on the cheek, and as she did so she touched my balls with the tips of her fingers. That really got to me.
"This way to the best viewing room in the house. I think you'll find everything to your satisfaction. Ring for whatever you want. Yvonne will be your serving girl."
Linda clapped her hands joyfully.
"I haven't seen Yvonne in such a long time. You'll like her baby. You two will be such wonderful friends."
That was something to think about, having a pro friend. Especially a girl working in this freaky setup. It would be a new experience.
A stark naked redhead led us to our room. I was gratified and excited by the pattern of red whipping streaks that marred the white richness of her rippling ass as she walked in front of us.
Linda could read my mood. "Spank her baby, it's one of the things that you can do here." She kissed my ear.
That was all the encouragement I needed. I slipped my arm around her waist, feeling her hairy triangle against my wrist. Slam, slam, I slapped away at her tender tail, turning it crimson. Linda slipped up on her other side and also began to spank her. Her tits came up hard and rigid as we slapped her ass. She really enjoyed it. I slipped my mouth onto one of those tasty peaks and bit into it, savoring the flavor of the nipple, the corona going hot as I chewed it. I could hardly control myself, when we got to that room I pulled the bitch in and threw her onto a huge triple-size circular bed that almost seemed to fill the room. I fucked her as Linda sat on her face, the warm-tailed bitch-girl slurping away at my Linda's hungry pussy as I fucked her. I rode her cunt and Linda rode her head. Linda's miniskirt flared about her waist and she lifted it high to give me an unrestricted view. I played with the girl's tits. It finally ended. She went staggering out the door, breathing hard. She wouldn't forget that session in a hurry. What would come next?
"Darling, look through the mirror, our show is beginning."
One entire wall consisted of a two-way mirror. We could see the action that was taking place. There was a girl tied by her wrists to a pillar. She was naked of course, and the first part of her body that drew my attention was her magnificent ass, one of those over-packed jobs that literally ripples with compacted rolls of soft meat that you love to run your fanned hands across incessantly.
A huge massively muscled bruiser whose overdeveloped body shimmered and mirrored light under a sheen of glossy oil went through his paces welding a many corded whip with diamond shaped tips. I squeezed my Linda's boobs with horny excitement as I watched the scene and anticipated the wonderful show that would shortly commence.
He hyped it up a bit, flexing his bulging muscles and terrorizing her blonde captive by running the whip along her curves, prodding at the well buried cave of her ass slot with it. He stroked the puffy lips of her shaved pussy, and probed at the mouth of her cunt with the butt of his torture tool. I watched entranced, my cock going rigid, playing with the charms of my own blonde bitch, thrusting wicked fingers into the slots of her cunt and ass, feeling warmth and oil beginning to flow and spread in her. I fanned the expanse of her ass cakes with my grasping hands and pulled her across my lap so that I could spank the crimson into her ass as we watched the hooded muscleman beat the scarlet out of the trussed blonde.
He drew his arm back. The strands of the whip danced in the air as he shook the whip ferociously. Then he struck. I could see the many cords sink and recoil from the rubbery padded layers of her mammoth butt. Lines of scarlet immediately patterned her skin, small trickles began to run from line to line. She screamed and lunged spasmodically, her head reared back emitting terrible screams which we could hear on a speaker system, and I wondered if she were really faking it. The punishment was certainly real. He whipped the other cheek of her arse. Splat. Then four in rapid succession, splashing droplets of blood as the heavy bundle of whip throngs slammed against the heavy rolls of her ass with the power of his out size arm behind it. She almost climbed the pillar in her pain, emitting incessant wailing gut-ripping shrieks of pure anguish. Her feet went out from under her, her weight dangled from her wrists bound overhead. I continued to spank my broad's soft ass to a crimson pudding as I watched the blonde victim getting her ass beaten off. Now he changed stances, and brought the whip straight down in a verticle cut, the ends, the diamond shaped heads, biting the curve of her ass at the horizonatal reach of the arc. I could see the waves ripple through her ass, the welts danced together as the dreadful down-strike wroke wrinkled her butt, and red shot from her bloodied ass. She screamed afresh, as he continued in this way, left side, right side, carving a bloody map into her tender behind. How I envied him his pleasure.
The girl hung limp. This part of the show had ended. She was dragged out by the whipwielding muscleman by her heels, leaving red tracks along the floor marking the drag of her bleeding ass.
I rolled over and over with Linda, spanking her butt, biting her bared tits.
"How did you enjoy it, my darling bastard," she whispered feverishly in my ear, her breath tight and rasping.
I demonstrated how I had enjoyed it with a series of hard slams to her soft butt. I was really getting started when the door opened. A brunette was standing there, a girl with waist length unbelievably beautiful hair. Her breasts were mammoth white melons topped by cones of amber. Her thighs arced in a magnificent curve of feminine form, and the cup between her thighs was incredibly perfect. There were red ribbons throughout the long mane of her hair, and there were tiny ribbons as well in her rich pubic thatch. I wanted her right then more than I could have ever imagined wanting any piece.
"Oh Yvonne," Linda squealed, "I'm so happy to see you again. Come over here, this is my Frank. Say hello to each other."
The brunette surveyed my wife's crimsoned behind with an appraising eye, a cool smile on her face.
She came over and leaned close to me, her waves of cascading hair brushing my shoulders and chest. She reached out shamelessly and felt the rigid outline of my cock through the thin fabric of my pants with her fingertips sending tremors through me. I stroked the ribboned beauty of her cunt thatch, and ran my hand over the cunt mouth, feeling the well filled lips of her cunt. I slipped my fingers up the tunnel, and ran my other hand over the cones of her tits. The boobs went warm and hard under my pressing hand.
"Yvonne is here to serve us Frank, make any demand you want upon her, and she will obey it."
"Yes Frank," she purred at me, "I am your slave for the duration of your visit here. Make any demand whatsoever."
Well, I was not the one to let an opportunity slip by. I soon had her kneeling between my legs, her luscious mouth enclosing the throbbing head of my cock within its sweet recesses. I had her go slowly, drawing it in inch by inch and then letting it slide almost free, just putting enough effort and tongue play into the sucking to keep it from going limp. As she sucked at me I ran my hands through the voluptuous lengths of her flower bedecked hair. I really dug long hair on a cunt, it was one of my hangups.
She was a good sucker all right. I let her finish me off, and was impressed by the way she swirled every drop cleanly down her throat, just vacuuming it down. A real pro.
I wanted her luscious ass next, and I pulled her down on the bed. Her eyes were atwinkle with mischief and the thrill of being hurt.
"Are you going to whip me, master," she inquired in a straight tone of voice that did not disguise the desire to experience this punishment.
"I'm going to warm your bottom up a bit," I replied laconically.
I set to work on her soft bottom, a fleshy one, with high, shapely cheeks that flattened out in a pleasant manner when she lay on her belly. I put my own bitch wife next to her, to work on both together. They squealed with contentment at this.
I slammed and whammed away at the beautiful tails, turning the four cheeks an angry flush of crimson. I spanked and spanked their soft bottoms, delighting in their dainty moans of pain and passion. They were wiggling about pretty soon and toying with one another's bouncy boobs. I kept at it, determined to spank into the hundreds.
Another sex show came on as I worked on their tails. A huge, naked black girl of Amazonian proportions was engaged in a wrestling match against one of the huge musclemen that The Pleasure Dome apparently used in a goodly supply. He was an outsize heavyweight, but no match for her. She literally bounced his ass off of the walls, tucking him up under one armpit, grasping him around the waist, and then swinging his body around in ever widening arcs, carooming his tail off of hard walls and against the pillar the blonde had been shackled to.
Watching this drove me even wilder, my incessant spanking of the two girls rose to a crescendo of violence, I swung both arms with all of my might, maliciously trying to outdo every previous effort with each reinvigorated flurry of blows. Their bodies danced up and down on the soft bed, I pinioned them by mounting their backs and used the improved leverage to increase still further my efforts. The deep crimson turned to a fuller, stronger shade of bright scarlet in the two reddened ass slabs, they were crying bitterly now and making desperate efforts to tear loose. Suddenly they threw me off with a cunning display of strength and dexterity that utterly surprised me. I was amazed and perplexed a few moments later to find myself staring up into two flushed and deeply angry faces filled with mayhem, my own body now trapped under their combined weight and my arms locked immovably into judo holds that sent spasms of pain through my muscles. I had never before experienced a turning of the tables by women and I felt my trigger-quick temper start to flare.
"All right," I bellowed, trying to cast them off or rip my arms loose from their grips, "get the fuck off of me already. What the hell kind of a game is this? This isn't on the program, you dumb bitches."
"But it is on my program, you domineering bastard," Linda proclaimed, her face twisted into a leer of treachery and lust.
I had never seen my wife with that sort of an expression before. I had always considered her temperament to be predominantly masochistic, why else would I have married her, the perfect willing victim?
What happened next came with such bewildering suddenness and inexplacability that I was dazed and uncomprehending. Yvonne reared up and pulled at the bell ring to summon service. I took the advantage of her shifted weight to throw her off and wiggle out from under my Linda. I was speechless with rage now and they both quailed before my aroused fury. I was getting ready to rip their tails off when the door shot open and the Madam herself swaggered in flanked by two hooded musclemen. I was glad to see her at first, ready to vent my displeasure loudly and forcibly. I was fuckin' pissed off at the two bitches, especially Yvonne. I was dead certain that the customer was always right in a place like this.
"What's the problem," the Madam inquired calmly.
"This stupid bitch wife of mine is getting out of line and so is Yvonne here. You said that this place aims to please and I can tell you that...."
To my astonishment Linda heatedly interrupted me.
"I'm tired of fucking around, take the stupid bastard."
I was gawking at her completely shocked and bewildered when the two gorillas swooped at me on a signal from Madam. I was slow grasping what the hell was happening, but I knew when I was in a fight. I lacked their ponderous builds but I was athletic, agile, and well versed in combat techniques. I caught one with a hard shot to the gut, stopping him, and ripped off a combination on his partner, sending him reeling back. Yvonne leaped at me from behind and looped her leg around my thigh before I could do anything about it. She acrobatically dropped to the floor, throwing me on my face. The first muscleman came down on me with a sickening thud, and twisted my arm up behind my back as the Madam put me out cold with one vicious kick to the head.
Darkness broke up and arced away from me. There was light, and a splitting pain in my head, and pain almost everywhere. I found myself naked and spread out on an X-shaped wooden cross, strong cords and chains holding me fast. I was on display before a jeering, leering pack of naked whores. Linda sat on Madam's lap, and they were playing with each other's bite covered boobs, and Yvonne and Constance played with their pussies kneeling before them laughing at me, and a score of others crowded around them in a fragrant, sweaty pack. A wall of whore meat mocking me, the mighty, self-assured dominant male.
I tried to speak, but my mouth was gagged with a foul rag. I tried to move but could not. I waited and wondered fearfully.
Madam spoke. "Now listen to this, I will only repeat it once. This is a whorehouse that specializes, as you are aware, in displays of whipping and bondage. Our girls are all genuine enthusiasts, none of them are actresses or fakes, everything that occurs here is for real. We also perform services of another type, the training of slaves for those who can afford the prices of the schooling we provide. We perform this service almost exclusively for women, and most of our students are males to be trained to serve domineering women. We also have girls in training, but very few of them are for male masters, I generally prefer to train men to serve and women to rule. Your wife, our own beloved Linda, who was sent to us to be trained by her lesbian stepmother and stayed on to work here for two years as one of our most popular girls, has decided to enroll you in our training program to teach you the meaning of obedience to the rule of women. You are the victim of a conspiracy that had been hatched even before you married her. She came to me before that and told me what she wanted done. The paying is over, the charade has ended, and the masks are now removed. Look upon our naked faces. We are the masters, and you are a lowly slave. You will stay here to be trained by us and used by us as we see fit. You will participate in the shows and sex parties to earn money for me. You will be used as a male whore at my whim by both men and women. You will be trained in rubber and leather and lace. Etcetera and etcetera. I see from the panicky expression on your stupid mug that you are beginning to understand the situation and your present permanent predicament. I don't expect resignation nor despair from you yet. I leave you then to contemplate and muse. Desperation and rage will sit with you tonight. And consider this: no one has ever gotten their asses out of here if we did not permit it. Your training will begin tomorrow."
The tittering pack went trouping out in a flashing wild pandemonium of grab-assing and tit-squeezing and butt-slapping.
I was left painfully alone with my thoughts, and my head didn't feel altogether on right. Of course it didn't register at first, it took some time for the disbelief to wear off. My treacherous bitch wife had left me in this lunatic house to be trained as a male slave to lick the cunts and beg for the whips of dominating women. It was absurd, maddening, ridiculous. And yet: who knew that I was here, who could help me, and could not a place that provided thrills for jaded and warped appetites provide still more outlandish services.
I thought that I would be alone all night, but I was awakened from a feverish nightmare sleep by the hot touch of naked female flesh against mine. A voice whispered obscenities in my ear. I was again mocked with laughter. It was Yvonne. She pirouetted round and round, whooping and dancing, so that I thought she was high on hash. She scared me shitless, helpless as I was.
"C'mon baby," she whispered heatedly in my ear, "let's ball."
The bitch raped me as if I were the broad and she the man. Her clawing fingers gouged great pieces of skin from my chest. She hammered my guts with her fists until I thought my insides were coming loose. She beat the crap out of me for kicks. And when she finished she patted me benignly on my head as if I were a pet dog that had performed its tricks well.
"I really like you baby. I'm gonna take fuckin' good care of you."
As I ruefully watched her swaying ass go skipping out the door I wondered how she treated people she hated.
CHAPTER TWO
I was hanging by my wrists from a pulley in a basement torture chamber. All about me were terrifying implements designed for producing pain, racks, wheels, whips, chains, things I couldn't identify or decipher the meaning of. The gnawing pain in my wrists brought me back to my own situation.
The black Amazon was socking it to me. She was really fantastic, all decked out in sheer nothing, except maybe a thin layer of oil to make her body sheen in the light. Her mammoth bouncy tits with long nipples ending in blunt, finger-like nipples, her rolls of ass meat that were surprisingly hard and firm. Her name was Melinda, a dainty name for a vicious sadistic broad like her.
I screamed in agony as she began on me with the whip. It had a short handle and three long tapering throngs of heavy leather, and it felt like my back was being torn off piece by piece. Whap. It slashed across my back below the line of my shoulder blades. Then it hit me across the shoulders, then it hit the same area from another angle crossing the tracks it had previously made and causing unendurable pain. I almost bit through my tongue, as I drummed my heels in the air and threw my head madly about. I cursed the bitch but she only laughed and hit me again. The ends of the whip came slicing around my left side to crack against my chest, I saw them hit along my chest and a moment later felt the searing onrush of the pain. My head swam, and when I looked down once more I could see the scarlet lines it had left.
This was my early morning introduction to my new training program. Some damn program. I was helped down and washed off by that bitch. She felt me up as she did it, playing with my balls, groping my ass, sticking her tongue in my ear. My wrists were chafed raw and bloody and my back was a mass of welts. I was dizzy and weak, but nevertheless I was fighting mad and ready to murder someone.
I buried my fist in her mammoth soft gut. The next thing I knew I was riding through the air across one huge warm thigh. I hit the concrete floor so hard I almost broke my ass. She drew me to my feet, agonizingly twisting one trapped arm to control me. She cupped my head in her powerful hand under my chin, and I could see stars as she put the pressure into those hard fingers of hers.
"Don't ever hit mama again baby, not ever," she lectured. She punctuated her statement with a stinging slap that felt as hard as a roundhouse and dropped me on my ass once more.
I soon met the boys, the rest of my classmates. I was not the only idiot there. There were about a dozen of them, a scurvy looking crew, and I took an instant dislike to most of them. There were a few tough looking muscle boys and a few faggots. The rest looked to be what a bunch of punks who allowed women to dominate them would be. Soft, weak, ready to be given orders. I had never allowed myself to look that way. I would be on top again soon, and my Linda would be minus the skin on her ass.
It was shower time. We went trouping off in an obscene hairy mass for the showers. They were all playing with each other, grabbing cocks and balls and welted ass slabs. It disgusted me, especially the way a few of them were eyeing me. I was ready for someone to try something as I gingerly showered off my welted back. Sure enough, one oversize butch muscle fag went for my ass. I let him have one foul hook low in the groin and two short rights to the jaw as I held his head steady. I banged his head against the wall for luck. He slumped at my feet and I nonchalantly went on showering, ignoring the creep. The others stared at me aghast and enraged, but no one made a move toward me.
Suddenly three of the broads were in there, striding toward me determined and looking quite pissed off. I was nonplussed for a second, but then the thrill of combat and my rage combined and I went for them. I might have taken them but the whole herd of slave creeps came down on me and I got in only a few shots before I was dragged out of there unable to move a muscle.
I was taken before Madam. She surveyed me with the look reserved for an idiot child that couldn't learn simple lessons. "No fighting here, no resistance, do as you are required to. You are supposed to play with the other children, to fuck and suck with them. You will do so as part of the program I have in store for you and as part of the shows you will engage in. I don't want any more trouble from you, any fighting, any bullshit."
I was bent over. Madam strapped on a huge dildo and fucked my ass with it. I screamed and cursed and lunged with all of my might but there were too many holding me. I lay there afterwards shocked by humiliation hardly noticing how I was being whipped on my ass with a riding crop.
I went through the rest of the day in a daze, responding to commands and pain, but hardly remembering a minute later what had occurred. I was given a treatment on the rack that evening. The fiendish Melinda administered it, her ebony body gleaming in the light of the torches illuminating the dungeon it occupied. Slowly she turned the wheel, pulling taut the chains I strained against as they drew me out, ripping at the internal connective fibres of my body. The wheel turned and I was stretched out, a screaming mass of agony. And then she whipped me, cutting my chest and belly, covering my hurting body with scarlet gashes. Down she worked, ever further down, taking her time, until with a hissing sound of pure feline malevolence she braced herself for a careful, calculated shot, and let me have it across my nuts and cock. I screamed, a howling animal sound rising through the crescendo capable of being produced by a human voice. She threw back her evil head and emitted howls of fiendish laughter.
"You have a giant hard-on, you dirty little worm. You really love getting your lumps from a beautiful chick."
Of course I went for her when released. I was totally insane. It took a horde of others to prevent me from killing her right there.
They swarmed all over me, smashing and grasping at me, bearing me down with their superior numbers and weight and strength. I could fight well enough, I was nobody's pigeon. I smashed back at them with short chopping karate blows, and back alley elbow and knee tactics that I had learned the hard way in the streets when I was a kid. My sole advantage was the differences in our intent, they had to overpower me without inflicting any permanent or long sustained damage, I was out to maim and cripple them.
The two apes soon had my arms outstretched and pinnioned under their greasy bulks despite all of my efforts. Melinda loomed over me, leering at me with a look of triumph and savage hatred, her face contorted in her sheer raging fury. As she sneered down at me I contorted enough under the two gorillas holding me down to jackknife my legs and smash both feet square into her guts before she could get out of the way. I laughed maniacally despite my hopeless position, laughed the poor malicious laugh of triumph one feels seeing an enemy suffer. The black bitch rolled and threshed on the floor, madly bellowing in pain and cursing me with every obscene name she could think of.
Yvonne kicked me in the groin, ending my laughter and desperate struggles. Her own features swimming before my watered dazed eyes as I whimpered out my hurt were twisted into a mask of cold dispassionate determination. She was in no way ready to take any shit from me. Her spike heel threatened my face, informing me that the nonsense had ended. I felt the grip of despair once more. I let them haul me roughly across the floor and bind me once more to the X-cross. They were none too gentle, digging the looping ropes cruelly into my flesh. They cursed me as they worked binding me to the implement, and I endured silently wearied by my struggles and hurting everywhere from my multiple injuries, the pain a hot swirling tide through my skull, searing waves of pain flooding my dazed brain. I felt myself passing out.
A flood of icy water revived me. Yvonne stood there smirking at me, her face a reflection of the mockery she felt for me. I was was tightly bound to the apparatus with tough cord as I could be, my body swelling in rolls about the cords that bit at my circulation.
"All right baby," Yvonne slowly drawled, her voice syrupy with menace, "now you learn what happens to bad little slavies who haven't learned their place and strike their masters." A bellowing black shadow came hurtling onto me, I felt a massive voluptuous body slamming massively into me. Melinda, I thought, she'll kill me.
"You dirty bastard," she roared into my ear, "I'm going to rip your fuckin' head off."
Her massive boobs ground into my face. Her heavy hands contorted into fists, she began to batter away at me. She was past all reasoning and intent only on demolishing me. I screamed in terror. Her massive fists crashed into my belly, ripped into my groin, hammered my battered jaw. My head danced left and right under her slashing hooks. I felt the blackness crashing down again. As I suffered this way the others came to my rescue. They couldn't allow the ebony Amazon to smash me to pulp in her maddened fury. She would probably have killed me if they hadn't pulled her off. She kicked and smashed at them, and caught me with a few terrific blows as they wrestled her away. I thanked God that they were there.
Yvonne came sauntering back when her berserk colleague had been carried off.
"You've made a bad enemy there, you idiot. Better hope that she cools off, because sooner or later she'll get you alone. Damn giant probably could tear your head off."
She played with the bruises and cuts on my face, pulling my imbedded lower teeth loose from the ballooned lip they were buried in, causing searing agony, ripping away a hanging flap of skin. She twisted my battered features into funny faces, laughing at her cruelty, her hand slippery with blood from my nose, mouth, and numerous cuts.
"Melinda did a terrific piece of work on you in the few seconds before we got her away."
Yvonne added to the quota I had been dealt. She picked up a long, supple length of cord and dipped it into the well of water, twisting and bending it, tightening it up as she swirled the two ends round and round, corkscrewing the entire length of it. Then she bent it double, and tested her makeshift whip, smashing it with terrifying slushy thuds that sent tremors of belly loosening fear through me against the walls and the torture apparatus. Judging it sufficient for the task she advanced on me, playing with my terrors like a cat with a cornered mouse.
Slash. I screamed as the doubled up, rolled up wet length of rope whipped across my chest. Again, and yet again. Slowly, without haste or hesitation, every blow measured and calculated. She ripped open a half healed welt and worked at the bleeding, widened crease, tearing expanses of my hairy chest bloody, increasing the raw scarlet areas. She worked down the bruised muscular sections of my belly, looping her blows underhand to let the doubled end of the cords hit my gut like a bludgeon. The cross left me no slack to struggle against, not an iota of an inch to move left or right as I lunged futilely to escape the unavoidable agony of the whip.
Her mood changed once more. She wanted me. And in self loathing and disgust I could measure my own arousement and reaction to the beating. My rod rippled and straightened up hard. It stood out now, full erection, the veins pumped full of blood. The head was purpled and almost leaping free hungry for gash. They were right about me, whipping turned me on, I enjoyed being dominated by cruel women.
"I'll must milk that little thing dry for you baby, but not the way you're expecting me to. Felix needs a drink, he's a growing boy, and that is the perfect elixir to put hair on his chest."
I quailed in nausea at the mention of this horrible degradation which I felt assured she fully intended to carry out and probably had already done so numerous times in the past.
She fitted a plastic nozzle over my cock, attached to a powerful squeeze bottle and a plastic flash attachment to catch and hold the pumping come which she began to milk out of me, one hand manipulating and squeezing my balls as she pumped away at the squeeze bottle. The sucking pressure pulled at my distended cock, my swollen out tool. Her hand moved along the plastic tubing enclosing my cock, pumping it. I felt the hot breaking out surges rip through my milked cock, I looked down miserably and saw the white sticky shots of hot sperm jet into the flask which she detached when the degrading milking-masturbation had ended and she went scampering off with her treasure leaving me battered and depleted. I was more degraded and demoralized than I had ever imagined it possible to be.
I spent that night in the slave-boy barracks on my belly. There were clumps of harsh gravel beneath the sheets I lay on. Throughout that unending night the other slaves came to laugh and jeer at me, to play with my ass and obscenely fondle my unprotected cock and balls. They enthusiastically followed their orders, harsh fingers roved up the tunnel of my ass. Cocks carressed my face and were thrust into my mouth. I was helpless, bound and enfeebled, I could do nothing.
In the morning I staggered out of bed when the bonds were removed from me and collapsed in a weak bundle of battered meat at the feet of Melinda.
I sobbed piteously and begged for forgiveness, all trace of my former spirit broken. I whimpered and pleaded and heard the jeering laughs all around and heard the obscene suggestions.
"Let's have a gangbang....Hang him by his toes....Let him suck everybody off...."
Melinda let me suck her juicy cunt for atonement. I thrust my tongue through the thicket of her bush, shoved it into the wet, sticky, fragrant tunnel and sucked and licked until the thin pleasant trickle came and filled my waiting mouth.
"Go get your shower now, boy," she ordered, laughing heartily, but in good cheer. She kicked my ass across the room almost with a strange feeling of affection.
I took a three minute shower in icy cold water and was sincerely grateful for the sweet revitalizing enjoyment I derived. It was what I needed in my condition.
I was taken before the Madam. Her whip looped about my waist. She mumbled approval at my lack of reaction, and tested me further with a lash right square along both buttocks. I gritted my teeth and buried the scream in my throat. A line of fire had been gouged into my tail.
"Very good," she commended me. "Quite a vast improvement since you first arrived among us. And now, child, time for you to start earning a bit of repayment for the lavish and loving care we've been pampering you with. You're going to participate in your first public show. You know the prices our patrons pay, and their patronage of this establishment entitles them to the highest and most professional quality in their amusements. So act accordingly. Don't give me cause to be displeased with your performance."
Yvonne took me in tow, her instructions and treatment of me almost friendly now that I had graduated in my role. The girl that had led Linda and myself up to that viewing chamber so long ago, almost a lifetime away, was chosen for my partner. She hung her head almost shyly as Yvonne instructed us in our little charade.
The viewing chambers held the patrons who we were to entertain. It was time to begin. I was to be the conqueror once more, if only on stage. Constance, my partner, was wheeled onto the platform on a whipping cross, hung upside down with her legs spread wide and inviting. I went to work on her. I was stark naked except for a hood of leather which concealed my identity, a precaution taken with all of the performing males. Many of them were initially victims such as myself, of wives and mistresses.
I began. I held up high a pair of strange transparent rubber panties, with a snap on flap that went up between the legs to fasten them in place. The whole affair snapped on like a belt, rather than being stepped into the way an ordinary pair of panties is donned. But that was far from the strangest thing concerning this garment. There were two rings which fit over the asshole and cunt of the wide spread crotch of my victim. The rings were half an inch deep, and fitted with a screw groove all along the inside perimeter. I began to screw two rods into the rings, rods fitted with massive rubber ball heads, heavily greased. And as I screwed the rods through the rings they traveled into Constance, channeling up the constricted passage of her anus and along the wide well-broadened channel of her vagina. Both of these passages were overfilled and extended by the traveling rubber ball heads of the penetrating rods. Inch by straining inch I screwed them into my shrieking prey, until they would travel no further. Now her passages were filled with the rods, topped by the even greater distensions caused by the balls which had been screwed into her, turning around and around as they traveled deep into her sex vitals. Only the greasing of the balls had lessened the terrible friction pressure that even the soft rubber caused her.
Her shrieks were maddened now and she was quite ready for the whip. I fed it to her, one inch of her body at a time. I had seldom whipped my girls, preferring spanking, but my experiences and the resentments and frustrations welled up inside me drove me to full efforts, and besides, I was acting under orders and had no choice. I ripped at her dangling upsidedown ass, crisscrossing a searing series of welts across her tender seat. I was pleased with the series of welts my efforts were rewarded by. A pattern of bleeding gashes marked her tail. I went up the luscious columns of her thighs, spacing my shots an inch apart, doing pretty well although I was not an expert with the implement. Her back also suffered the treatment of the whip, and her entire body jiggled and threshed under my whip, her bonds confined to her wrists and ankles to grant her the freedom of movement necessary to fully display the extent of her sufferings. I had no right to judge these actions, I was the one beating her, and I would gladly have been present as a spectator if I had not been wielding the whip.
I was enraptured by the bouncing, jiggling action of her ass as the embedded ball-headed rods were rubbed along her spasming front and back tunnels, causing her to orgasm in pain pleasure of indescribably intensity as I worked at her, on and on. I had no intention of quitting yet, but the authoritative voice of the Madam over the speaker system informed me that my act had ended.
I helped her down. She was a limp ball of sweat-sheened flesh. The muscles under her damp skin jumped and twitched with pain and shock. I helped her up. I unflapped her panties, the strips of plastic dropping off rivulets of sweat from her streaming ass and crotch as they hung between her legs from the rings into which the two rods had been screwed deep into her.
She swayed and staggered off the platform, spraddle-legged, her back, legs, and ass welted with scarlet bloody whip gashes, her ass and cunt filled with the rods that puffed her insides open. As she walked the outline of the ball up her cunt was visible through the wall of her belly. I had to help her out.
Yvonne took my whip away from me. Melinda stood backing her up if needed, a bullwhip over her wide shoulder. I was in no condition or state of morale to tangle ass with anybody right then. I had been totally cowed this last time. I wanted only to avoid trouble for a while.
"You really enjoyed socking it to her, didn't you," Yvonne queried. Her knowing smile recorded the answer she already knew. "What you still have to understand, baby, is that you are supposed to enjoy receiving more than giving. It might take us a bit more time, but we intend to hammer it into you."
There was another show to come. I had not been informed of my participation for a good reason, I was the sheep in this one. Huge and Barry, two of the musclemen, readied me to receive my punishment. There were three parallel bars, one at waist height and the two flanking it a foot or so from the ground in height. I was spraddled across the center bar, my wrists tied to the low bar in front of me, bending my head down to the floor. My ankles were similarly bound to the bar behind me. I was now helplessly bound head down, my exposed and vulnerable ass the highest point of my anatomy.
The bars were on a cart, and the device with me bound in this manner was now wheeled out onto another platform in another section. I was surprised to discover another torture performance stage, I had not realized the scope and extent of the activities of The Pleasure Dome. They had more than one stage, with simultaneous performances when the occasion warranted. They must have been raking in a mint.
Yvonne had drawn the pleasurable assignment of breaking my ass for my unseen audience. I thought that the strutting bitch had probably gotten it on request. She really had a thing for dominating me. But what the hell could I do about it?
She took her time, teasing me with the suspense of waiting, increasing my fearful apprehensions, torturing me mentally this way. She turned the cart round and round under the highlighting display searchlights, showing off my already well marked ass. Then she flexed the whip and told me to get ready for it.
I gritted my teeth, steeled my muscles as best I could, but no one can ready themself for muscle jellying, flesh ripping pain. The first lash cracked into me. The second. I screamed with the wailing full intensity bleating of a child. Or a lamb being slaughtered. The whip slashed grooves and cannals and canyons into my bunched up, upraised ass tissues. It danced and tore at my legs, split open the skin on my back. It came ripping at me again and again as I peered fearfully through my widespread legs at the striking black snake of agony that struck its venom into me again and again. I was suffering now worse than ever, I could feel old cuttings once again split open, I could feel the new channels red and deep spilling out scarlet blood with the agony of a million bites. Pain is the measure of the number of nerves affected, a whip can still inflict terrible agony not quite matched my anything else.
Of course I begged and pleaded, futilely and aware of the futility before I even babbled the pleading cries for mercy. I kept on with it anyway as I had before, while my demoniacal nemesis kept on whipping my ass, slashing new patterns into my flesh.
I could never have been prepared for the finale. My screams rose afresh to new intensities as she rubbed salt into my bleeding wounds, handfuls of the coarse white crystals that caked into my welts with the searing fire of acid. She sloshed and rammed the salt into every scrape, tear, and crevice, handfuls of the caked white crystals scarlet with blood spilling onto the floor. I could feel it everywhere. All up and down the dozens of cuts in my back, ass, and legs. Every nerve in my body twitched, I felt my insides twisting over, I almost emptied my bladder, but this final indignity I managed to hold back. I passed out screaming bloody murder.
CHAPTER THREE
How can I describe the indignities and wild perversions, the tortures and orgies I participated in or was the victim of in the following weeks. It was not all unpleasant as I showed a genuine talent as a performer in the torture acts that the place specialized in. I had the ability to know when to improvise. Oh, those who came to see me got their money's worth. Constance was usually my pigeon, I had a true feeling for her, a rapport, I could always figure out intuitively the things that would make her scream. I loved to whip complex patterns across her wonderful ass and up and down the white expanse of her back. I would hand her upside down with her legs wide and fill her ass with three quarts of hot soapy water. I would douche her with another quart of water. And then, it really got wild as I pounded her ass with a paddle, pounding those quarts of water out of her. With every smash I sent water jetting out of her two flooded tunnels. I could almost see the hysterical reactions in those viewing booths. Mostly though, I loved to spank and whip her.
Yvonne and Melinda loved to play with me in the same way and that was not all so disirable. They could be really rough. I received one spanking a day from Melinda, across her lap. Her powerful arm carrumped my rump with greater force than most of the other girls could put into their paddles. Oh, it was really agonizing. And then she would catch hold of both cheeks of my ass, almost grinding the handfuls of firm flesh into sacs of oozing pulp with the terrible pressure in her hands. Sometimes I felt the almost uncontrollable compulsion to strike out at her once more, but I always managed to resist it.
Her whippings were even worse, especially those on stage. She would also wrestle me on stage, and I had the opportunity then to fight her if I could. But I was no match for her in a test of strength. And after an hour of being crushed, mauled, and bounced around in those Amazonian arms, feeling her sweating hot body constantly rubbing into mine, the caressings of her nipples, ass, thighs, and cunt; my tool would stand up as straight as a flagpole and she would pull or suck me off in front of the gaping frenzied freaks in their viewing booths and then sit on my head, and wallow me on the floor, smothering me in her massive ass.
Yvonne was the worst tease imaginable. She had a way of backing into me with her ass, her hot spanked ass that had been beaten crimson, and she would roll that inflamed and inflaming butt into my groin, grinding it into me, masturbating my cock with it, jacking me off with her wiggling, rolling ass. And she would clean her ass off afterwards with my tongue, and laugh with sheer drunken maniacal joy all through it. And she made me love it.
She loved to put me on the horse, a strange steed of bronze with a wooden saddle into which bronze spikes had been driven, and diamond headed steel spikes. The stirrups locked onto the feet and could be tightened until they gripped with the terrible slow crushing pressure of the suffered punishment for it but I managed to at least get some shots in.
I soon figured out the setup there. The main bread came from the slave training. It was a risky proposition but so very lucrative. The secondary bread came from the sex shows and normal prostitution activities. Yvonne, Melinda, and several of the other bitches were employees, generously paid but subject to strict rules with narrow interpretations. Everybody there got their ass beaten in regularly regardless of status so there was a certain fairness and rough justice to the whole business. Most of the other inmates were just that, inmates, prisoners, slaves the same as me. Wives, mothers, girlfriends, had put them in there for the treatment, to teach them the role and functions of slavery. There was nothing being done to me that had not been requested by my wily witch wife. A real champion bitch.
So I had to make the best of it. Because I was there for the duration of my training program, a program that I had no real clue to the nature of. I knew that every student was handled in an individual way in regard to the requirements of the mistress. I questioned Yvonne about it, but she would not tell me a damn thing and washed out my mouth with soap for the crime of curiosity.
Constance was different, like several of the girls she was a slave, placed in there by her lover, a rare instance, a man placing the woman in slavery. She was my only real comfort, the thrill of breaking her ass compensated somewhat for the degradation of my own ass.
The days went by slowly. The whipping shows I was in became rougher. I based my expectations on them, by putting on a terrific show I could gain some status and perhaps it would ease my own training. I conceived a brilliant piece of whipping drama, a true masterpiece.
I tied Constance to a pillar. She shuddered with fear, this was a special performance with sold out booths and she knew that something special was going to happen to that tender ass of hers. She begged me not to be too cruel, kissing me on the cheek and promising many rewards, but I only patted her affectionatley on the tit and told her to get ready for it.
Yvonne brought in an enormous basketfull of pins, and a collection of whips. Melinda was taking moving pictures of the whole thing, the film was merely an additional source of revenue. I was all ready.
I began with cigarettes. I puffed on it, serenely watching the red flaring in the end, getting it hot as I puffed smoke into my pigeon's frightened face. I touched it to her butt, running it almost tenderly along the rounded curve of her ass cheek. She screamed and her whole ass writhed convulsively.
"A AA AAiiiieeeeee."
I touched it to the flesh hard, grinding and twisting, leaving an angry red circled on the white skin. I puffed it hot again and planted a twin mark on the other cheek. She screamed incessantly now as I planted tracks and spotted circles on her ass. I kept it up until I had run through several cigarettes. My hands were shaking with the pent up feelings of savagery and lust the business aroused in me.
Now I was ready for the pins. I ceremoniously pressed each one slowly against a cigarette mark, arousing tearing cries of agony merely by touching them to the burns. Then I plunged them in, feeling the easing pressure of the flesh with a strange thrill as the skin gave way after a futile struggle against the pressing sharpness. I fancied that I could gauge the recoil capacity of each piece of skin on her ass against the pins I jabbed into her. There were very few trickles of blood, just a few minor spillings of scarlet that made pretty patterns flowing down her ass. Drops of water stood out distinctly now on her body and a continuous serine of shudders ran through her. She made low moaning sounds that were nevertheless clearly audible on the loudspeaker system. I kept up the torture until every mark had been centered with a pin.
I now considered it time to begin the whipping. First I carefully pinched and prodded every inch of her ass, increasing the intensity of her agony. Her reactions were sublime. I wiped her forehead clear of sweat and kissed her on her cheek.
"Hold on, baby," I whispered in her ear, "the main event starts now."
I started with a paddle. It was oaken, highly polished, tapering to a handworked handle, good craftsmanship. I arced that first blow against the resillient globes of her bottom, experiencing the satisfaction of drawing from her an almost unbelievable bellow of anguish. She almost blew the speaker system. I concentrated on each blow, starting with a general area attack, then spreading my shots and trying to center the strike on the pin centered burn spots. Each driving smash that caused her behind to vibrate as if it were being exploded jogged those pins embedded in her, seared those burn spots and tracks. Every previous mark on her bottom that had not healed stood out distinctly, renewed in intensity by the paddling I administered. I kept it up, noticing a swelling out of her crimson cheeks, and a steady leak of scarlet from the numerous pinholes in her ass.
I changed to the whip after that. I first had to throw a bucket of water over poor Constance and then give her a few sniffs of smelling salts to renew her. I really would have loved doing this to my bitch wife instead of her, but this was what I had before me, so she was out of luck. I used an ordinary and rather mediocre whip on her, a short leather one with one throng and a short handle. It was easier to work with and I was not a fancy hand with the whip the way Yvonne, Melinda, and some of the others were.
I slapped it across her ass, looping the end around one white unmarred hip. She let out a scream with fresh vigor. I gave her another that crossed the track of the first quite closely. I took my time, I wanted the show to last a while. I whistled as I whipped. I strolled about changing position, causing the volleys from changing angles to complement each other. I whipped horizontal cuts intersected by verticle ones, the whole forming an indistinguishable mass of welts that completely covered her soft tail tissues in blood. Her ass was a mass of scarlet, the texture of the paddled skin under the scarlet blood almost matching that darker sinister shade. It ran freely down her legs and a shallow channel flowed along the deep crease between the cheeks of her ass.
I spread wide the cheeks of her bottom, and slammed the tender length of that trench with the butt handle of the whip, a clumsy method, but one I hoped still appreciated by the connoisseurs annonymously watching through all of those two-way mirrors.
I then followed up with the paddle once more. The implement was soon spotted with dabs of sticky blood from her seat. I began to splash drops of it from her ass as I slammed it time and time again. Her screams were deafening. She tried to literally climb that pillar she was helplessly moored to, pure futility.
I would have regretted the pain I was heaping mercilessly upon her if I had not been enjoying the whole thing so much.
The final act of the torture drama was an act of mercy. As she hung unconscious, slumped in her bonds I took a long pair of tweasers and pulled each pin free of her flesh. The first tug revived her. It was no act of mercy at all, getting a good hold through all of that slippery blood and then in one yank tearing out the deeply embedded pin. Each one came out crimson with blood, and blood shot out in small jets for a few seconds from each exit that had been enlarged from the beating of the paddle upon her flesh, causing the pins to jump about.
I splashed a bucket of ice water on her ass as she was carted off. A few other slave girls, their faces pale with terror, took her away to tend to her. Now that it had ended I regretted it a bit. But I had to show that I could fulfill a function well here.
I sauntered off that stage. I swaggered past a few awed girls and spotted Barry, one of my chief tormenters, a muscle freak in his usual black hood. I kicked him in the balls with pure unexpected malice, laughing like a maniac as he went down screaming. I was allowed to get away with it, and even allowed to kick him in the head a few times. I was not tied that night as reward and therefore had a chance to defend myself. I knew many bitches were glued to those mirrors watching what we did to each other. I got fucked again, but I got a blow job from a short blond faggot, and beat a lot of heads. Perhaps in time I would be able to call the shots at these night sessions.
The following morning in the showers some of the creeps were almost friendly with me. I joked and played with them soaping cocks and balls, letting them kiss me, chew my nipples, stick soaped fingers up my ass. I guess I was even weirder than I thought I was. Maybe I was a bit fruity as well.
Yvonne took me in tow. She whipped my ass as she walked me along the corridors. I slipped once and she slapped me hard along the side of my head.
"You were pretty damn good yesterday," she admitted. "But don't be getting any strange ideas. Your wife put you here, and she's my friend as well as Madam's friend. You're supposed to be learning subservience, and any domineering notions you may have are strictly for that stage. You leave when she says you're ready, not before."
She pulled my head back by the hair, and glared into my eyes with half-feigned anger. "Do you get me," she growled in a feminine impersonation of Cagney.
I laughed at her impression, but got another shot across the ass for it. She marched me into a chamber and had me kneel before her. I spent the entire day on my knees learning humility. I fetched balls, rolled over, kissed every single inch of her feet until my tongue was shriveled up with dryness. She took my newly regained arrogance away. She ground me down. My arms were tied behind my back, and pulled up until my shoulders strained at the sockets. I was rolled over and over tied in a human ball, until I was so giddy that I vomited on the floor. I had to clean it up, and lick the floor completely clean afterwards, and that almost made me sick again.
I cursed her and almost lost control in my fury, but I managed to hold my hands back from her white throat. I was learning. She kept me at it. I ate my meals out of a dog dish. I drank my water from the toilet. I went down on her repeatedly until my mouth was dry and sticky with her oil.
I tried to distract my mind by concentrating on the finely etched pattern of welts in her own naked ass. I imagined myself doing it to her, and it aroused keen satisfaction. If only it were reality instead of fantasy. She caught me admiring her welted ass. She glared at my erection.
"Do you like staring at my ass, boy. Want to know who did this to me? Madam did it. No fuckin' man whips my butt, only Madam and Melinda whip it. Know something, dummy, I asked Madam to whip my ass."
For my curiosity I was rewarded with the cat o' nine tails. Curiosity killed the cat, but in this situation the cat almost killed me.
Up and down my back, the terrible tearing, smashing fury of it. The most terrible of whips, the sound it makes as those nine tails come whistling at you. The song of pain it sings to you. Then up and down the front of my body, cutting me up good. Her face was flushed with vicious passion as she flailed at me. I begged for mercy. Her hand never hesitated and she whipped away at me cruel and immovable. Just the way I was.
I had not yet experienced the personal hand of Madame Vanavia. After several more days this final terror occurred. The other slave boys were full of the amplified legends of her prowess, terrified of her fury and domineering cruelty. Finally I was called to her office.
Linda was there too. Her face was flushed and beautiful with an unnatural excitement. She had changed quite a bit. She was naked, her body covered with bruises, welts, cuts and bite marks. She ran up to me lovingly and threw her arms around my neck, mocking me in my misery with loving false tenderness.
"I've been a very bad little girl baby. I've cheated on you with dozens of men and women, with menages, trios, groups, mobs, and the hordes of the Mongols. Look at my body, see all of the love trophies I've gathered up. Have you been getting much lately, baby."
"Look at him, Linda, the slob is crying." Madame Vanavia's voice was full of mockery.
"Don't cry baby, mommy came all the way down here to find out how her little man is getting on. Have you learned the proper way to show respect for the superior sex."
Her mood had changed now. She was cool, superior, reveling in her power. The times I had walloped her ass were long behind. In my folly I had thought that I possessed her, all the time taken in by her treacherous jest.
She gestured toward me. "Does the boob know what's in store for him?"
"No, not in the slightest. Want to tell him?"
Linda turned toward me. I felt icy terror up my spine.
"Well, all of this had been for openers, strictly a way of setting you up for preliminary training. I want a man who can dish it out to others when I command it, but essentially exists for the satisfaction of my own pleasures. I have a preference for certain types of domination. Your advanced lessons will be in rubber and in transvestia. Have you ever thought of being a transvestite, baby?"
I had little time to think of this. Linda wanted Vanavia to give me a treatment. She almost bounced up and down with eagerness in that naughty girl style of hers.
Vanavia tied me belly down across a table. She started on the soles of my feet with a ruler. Sharp knife-like stabs of pain went through my soles as she whipped my feet with the ruler, and my shrieks of pain were music to my hateful wife.
She then gave me a treatment with a lighted cigar. I really bellowed at the top of my lungs as she goughed me on the shoulders and all along my back with it.
"Stop crying you big baby, this is the same thing you've done to Constance, and Jackie, and other girls for customers. You should be able to take your own medicine."
That was a goddam lie, I had used cigarettes on them, there's a hell of a difference. But she kept at it, working on my abused ass now, touching me for a fraction of a second, then touching me a bit harder on the slightly reddened spot, inflicting a deep crimson mark.
Of course a whipping followed, what would a session be without a whipping. My wife scampered around joyfully eating up every detail of my agony. My back felt as if it were being flayed. I screamed bloody murder every time that damn whip hit me across one of the burn marks, and that happened more than a few times. I was being pressed beyond my limit of endurance.
Linda couldn't just watch any longer, she had to participate. She picked a nail file out of her bag and began to gouge the sharp hurting tip under my toenails, channeling out the tender skin under each nail, adding still further to my collection of hurting pains.
"Aaaaiieee, ooohh, please ... aaah h ... stop it baby."
"You never showed very much mercy when you felt the urge to whip my ass off. I'm just giving you some of your own medicine back, Frankie."
Of course, there was one hell of a difference between a spanking and what had been done to me these past weeks. But she knew that and was just being a hypocrite. She cheered her buddy, Madame Vanavia on to further efforts. Vanavia began to massage my battered flesh with her knuckles. She pressed in hard and then ran her hands down along my flesh, following the deep tracks she had made with the whip. I screamed as she quite literally squeezed the blood out of me, testing her knuckles into the whip marks, and running them along the length of each mark.
Linda lit up a joint and puffed it, coolly watching my agonies. She blew some of the smoke in my face, in my condition it didn't help me, but almost made me sick. I cried unashamed, as if I were a baby. Vanavia just kept at me with her hands, slapping welts, squeezing them, snapping her fingernails against cigar burns.
Linda clawed my back with her free hand, leaving dozens of long claw marks on my skin. She picked up a paddle and started to smash my ass with it, always hitting me on the same spot. The entire experience began to remind me of what I had done to poor Constance, and this increased my suffering still more.
"I want to see a show," Linda cooed, in her baby talking way.
This won me a reprieve. They went up to a viewing booth, taking me along. They sat on me watching the show, Linda on the back of my head and Vanavia on my sore aching butt. They slapped and tickled me as they watched, and played with one another like the lesbians they were at heart. At least it ended my session.
I watched the show. It was the Amazon, Melinda, breaking the ass of one of the musclemen, probably George from what I could see of his build. They were both wearing those damn helmets of leather. Melinda's beautiful black body glistened in the floodlights. She had him set up with his ass over an exercising jump horse, and his wrists and ankles bound to ringbolts in the floor with heavy cord. And she was kicking his ass off. She skipped back three steps, did a ballet pirouette, and then went dancing in to slam her foot into his ass with those spike heel shoes she wore. I winced, knowing what those damn things felt like when they hit your ass. Back she went once more, spun around, and went dancing in. His ass recoiled under the awesome impact, the horse actually rose an inch or two from the ground, the ringbolts groaned under the power of that crash.
His ass was covered by massive bruises, blue-black marks from the kicks she plastered his rump with. She finished kicking his ass and began to whip it. She stood with his head hanging down the side of the horse imprisoned between her thighs and whipped his ass raw with a whip made up of several short, but very broad strips of leather fastened together. As she swung this lash the straps of leather flared out like the blades of a fan and slapped down on his upturned bottom leaving broad, thick ride-like crimson marks on his butt. A few applications of this fiendish device soon had his ass entirely marked with purplish-red welts several inches wide that merged together to form one massive raised mess on the entire expanse of his ass. I felt for his suffering, but at the same time it excited me and I could tell that I had a massive hard-on. I began to rub myself into the soft material of the bed, but Linda put a stop to that by gouging my shoulder with the tip of her joint.
"None of that baby, watch the show like a good boy. Then you can kiss mama good-bye."
I was overjoyed to hear she was leaving. What I failed to suspect was that the more terrible phases of my suffering were about to commence.
CHAPTER FOUR
I'm Yvonne Amandeau, the baddest, roughest mother in the entire Pleasure Dome. I loved whipping the ass off of Frankie. After the first phase of his bondage training ended he passed into my capable hands for the continuation of his education. Rubber was to be the crucifixation with which I finally broke him down and ground him to rubble.
I demonstrated my techniques to him, causing him to tremble with his entire body a quaking shuddering mass of greasy jelly. He almost shit when I put on my demonstration for him, expounding on the power of rubber.
I use Minnette for my demonstration, a tender little thing with big boobs and a jealous girlfriend who had caught her doing no-no's with a large crowd of people. Now she was in my hands to learn the meaning of obedience and to experience the deeply rewarding pleasure (rewarding financially to ourselves and not to her) of acting in dramas upon the stage. Ass-breaking little pageants.
I set Frankie up with his neck fixed by a metal collar to a heavy crossbeam between two walls, his widespread arms affixed to the beam as well, holding him immobile with this simple and minimal bondage. He would be all nice and comfortable for the little show I was treating him to. The bitch was brought in, naked of course. I watched his face with interest, I enjoyed the way he lighted up and got randy at the sight of a new naked piece of girl meat. Minette was a fetching little piece I had to admit, short but not too short, with heavy things that tapered into a beautiful wasp waist. Her curly little bush was amber red as was the pile of locks atop her head. Her boobies were large and long, the pointed tips the type that seem to embrace the entire expanse of the tits. She had a goodly pattern of welts and burn marks embedded in her skin to properly offset her beauty.
"Kneel before me, my little witch," I commanded in my usual pear-like tones. I had a beautiful voice, even when twisted into the harsh growls of domination talk.
"Ye-ss, mistress," she stuttered out, her voice quavering with well reasoned dread.
I let her kiss my toes for a while, tingling in the sensitive areas of my feet and calves. I let her put her lips to the leather sac concealing my mound of Venus, my only garment-held in place by a few strategic straps.
"Put on the rubber suit," I commanded her. "Not hesitation of I'll give you a taste of the cat across your breasts."
She slipped the one piece skin-tight garment on, every aspect of her body, every curve showing clearly through the thin black rubber, as she pulled it up to her waist. I had to help her finish dressing in it. I pulled up the zipper that ran from the cleft of her ass up her spinal column to her neck. I locked the thread of the zipper into the thin chain at the top of the collar, and now she oculd not remove the rubber costume without help. The hands were enclosed in fingerless gloves further restricting her.
"Lift up your arms," I commanded.
The costume was covered by D-rings and catch rings so that she could be bound in any number of ways. I bound her elbows together with leather straps, pulling them painfully tight. I forced her arms back, bending her hands down toward her back. There were two rings set in the tips of the gloves, and I ran a thin strong chain through these and through a ring between her shoulder blades, tying off the chain and binding her hands firmly together between her shoulders, her elbows pointed up. She moaned in agony from the ache in her arms, especially through her elbows and shoulder blades. Tears trickled down her cheeks. I felt stirrings of lust in my own body at her predicament. I gloated over her suffering form and played with her tits outlined through the sheer black fabric. I could feel every detail of her boobs distinctly as I squeezed them through the rubber.
Only her head was free of rubber, and sweat poured in streams down her face from the constriction of the poreless rubber which was causing her body heat to mount up, the subsidiary torture of binding a victim in rubber.
The real suffering was about to commence. There were two rings in the front and back of the rubber suit positioned over her cunt and ass cave. Attached to the insides of the rings were two strong, transparent diaphrams of the finest fucking rubber, the type used in the finer grades of contraceptives. I picked up a long thin rubber prod from the table piled high with my implements of punishment and used this to force those two rubber membranes up the long passage of her cunt and up the narrow closed passage of her ass. The two rubber diaphrams were greased with an exciting oil composed of greases, irritants, and arousing oils. The first pleasant sensations of warmth aroused in her soon gave way to maddening itches and building pressures of sexual torture.
"Ohh, pl-please take it out of me ... aaahh-mistress."
I slapped her face hard, impatient with her lack of spirit.
"Don't complain, you little baby, until you have a reason to."
I soon provided her with that reason. I fastened to her a terrible device, a T-belt chastity harness of steel and leather. I locked it into place, embedding within her two distended holes enormous vibrating dildos of hard wood which rocked about and lunged back and forth within her held immobile by the harness locked around her loins, only the twin membranes between her delicate tissues and the sawing rods of wood.
She fell screaming on the floor, kicking frantically and trying to damage or dislodge the mechanism, but the efforts were completely futile, the heavy harness of leather and steel powerfully locked in place mocking her efforts, impervious to them.
I cupped Frankie, quite aroused by the spectacle, under the chin and brought my eyes closed to his transfixing his eyes with a snaky evil stare. I knew how to inspire terror.
"That's a sample of rubber domination, Frankie, how do you enjoy it?"
I slipped a pair of transparent rubber panties onto him, leaughing at his desperate efforts to prevent me from putting them on him. There was a hard rubber dong embedded within the panties and of course this device was squeezed into the only opening that he had to receive it. Then I turned around and began to butt-masturbate him, holding on to the rings fastened t the sides of his rubber panties to give myself the necessary leverage. We watched Minette groan and writhe on the floor as she suffered and came and came and suffered, her flesh under that rubber suit a veritable ooze of moisture, and I ground and jiggled my ass into his crotch, the outline of his penis under the rubber hard as a rock, rubbing him off the way I had so many times, the way we both loved it.
I could feel the hot jetting emptying of his cock within the rubber panties, his sticky white-threaded shots of come that stained his flesh. He hung his head his entire body going crimson from shame, as I felt up his panties with my hand, being able to clearly see the shots of sperm on the inside of the clear transparent rubber, swiggling it around in there, messing him up, causing it to clot where I wanted it to on his cock and balls and groin, catching it in flows within rolls of the rubber that I pulled away from his body, then rubbing it against him, enjoying every second of my little game.
I picked up a whip. I had trouble deciding who to use it on first, but Frankie gave vent to some incessant and annoying screams for mercy and this decided the matter in his favor.
Crack. A scream of agony as the whip snaked across the seat of his panties. Another one, and then three in rapid succession. I whipped the seat of his ass hot, the whip being hampered by the rubber inflicting welts that were transitory, faint red marks that would pass quickly to leave the area free for other whip lashes. It is sometimes best to whip protected flesh, there is so much more opportunity to pile on the whiplashes by the hundreds. I whipped his ass and he kicked his totally unbound legs in every direction, and his panties rustled, and the clotting come in the front of his panties spilled about a bit, against his diminished cock, increasing his humiliation a great measure, throwing together masturbation and torture.
My friend Melinda, came sauntering in to join the fun, decked out in a rubber and leather wasp-waisted corset, wearing thigh high rubber boots. She cracked the whip she held across the tail of Minette going through wild convulsions on the floor, and as she continued to crack the whip across that ass, Minette found the strength of desperation she needed to come out of her pain squirmings and lunge to her feet to run madly all around the room. Laughing fiendishly, Melinda followed closely on her heels, whipping her rubber clad ass, as her prey ran faster and faster now, and they kept going around the room. I couldn't understand how Minette could run that quickly with those two vibrators swishing away inside her meaty parts, but the sight was a monumental source of pure hilarity.
I whipped my Frankie-boy's ass faster and faster, coming with excitement from this rousing and violent spectacle. I whipped his ass until I inadvertently tore the rubber, and since it was too late to amend that action, I kept it up tearing the rubber more and more, slicing tracks of blood into the exposed flesh, causing the rubber to tear away in strips. Flaps of it hung down, and Frankie hung limp in his bondage emitting feeble groans and whimpers, the entire area of his buttocks well sliced with darker than amber slashes and his whole ass just hanging out through the torn off rear of his panties. Strips of rubber were on the floor.
I love rubber. My thoughts flashed back to the rubber circuses I had enjoyed with his wife, Linda, my good soul friend who had brought her unsuspecting husband to this den of domination and turned him over to me. The things we had done to one another.
I had bound her into a rubber straight jacket with attached rubber helmet tightly in place leaving only her nostrils exposed so that she could breathe. I hung her from the ceiling by her helmet, a chain through the steel ring in the top of it, and I hauled her legs wide, wide out, attached by her ankles to rings set into the opposite walls. She hung there, her upper body concealed in black rubber, her arms fixed across her breasts, blinded, deafened, silent except for her screams which penetrated the fabric. Her lower body was completely bare, and I fastened a rubber belt around her waist, drawing it tight to the last loop, her flesh standing up in folds above and below it. A leather strap dangled from it and I passed this between her thighs, drawing it tight into her spread crotch, fastening it pitilessly despite her wails of pain. I adjusted the two rings over the front and back of her body, the rings that were threaded on the inside with screw threads, that were over the front entrance and back exit of her body. I screwed the long thin hoses into these two rings, feeling the tremor that ran through her body as she felt the coldness of the nozzles touching her, as I squeezed those nozzles between the puffy lips of her cunt and into the puckered mouth of her anus. And then I slowly turned the water on, and the water filled her cunt in a matter of minutes, but took longer to slowly fill her ample guts with quart after quart of hot soapy water, her midsection bloating out under the inflow of the water into her. Her screams rose and became incessant, a keening, kewing sound through the distortion of the rubber covering her mouth so immovably.
I left her that way for a very long time. Streams of sweat cascaded from under the rubber straight jacket. Her abdomen billowed out from the water that filled her and had no point of egress form her distended inwards. I knew the point of permanent harm, and avoided any real damage. I released her finally, and it took over an hour before she could walk and move her arms.
I dumped her into a tub before I unscrewed the hoses, and as they came out they were followed by a deluge of water, foul and browned out of her ass, and I quickly turned on the taps to wash away the filth and left her there in that tub happily soaking and being washed as her inwards literally flowed out of her and washed down the drain.
That had been a festival of rubber with which other festivals paled in contrast. Enemas are an integral part of the texture of rubber bondage, so are all aspects of wetness.
I would hand up rows of girls and boys clad in rubber, I would go down that row inserting the nozzles into them, administering multi-quart enormous enemas, inserting shock wires under the thin openings of their suits to send electric shocks through cunts and asses and cocks, watching those black clad forms vibrate in shock, the electric shock imprisoned and amplified by the impervious rubber, the bodies jerking and twisting in agony.
I had the slaves indulge in rubber orgies. Moths that were free of restraint slipped hungry saliva wet tongues through narrow rings into mouths that had to be opened by effort against the locking action of rubber hoods that locked under the chins. Fingers slipped through rings into wetted cunts, up the moist pussy holes, frigging and tunneling around, causing sticky cunt cream to stain the insides of the rubber costumes. Fingers were thrust into the tight ass holes through the back rings, and every curve of every body was explored by licentious lecherous hands through rubber It developed usually into a grope session as the rings hindered most activity, especially with large tools. Girls groped boys, boys groped girls, girls groped girls, boys groped boys. It really sent me off to watch two guys playing with their hanging erector sets outlined by the tight clutch of the rubber suits they wore.
There were innumerable aspects to rubber domination. To run in the sun in rubber is a terrible punishment. We had a pony cart track set up for discipline and the delight of our paying patrons. They would gather about the tracks on those infrequent racing days, clad in masks and exotic costumes, our long time regulars, incognito to one another but their identities well known to ourselves.
I would set up a pony girl completely clad in rubber, bound to the harness, the dildos buried inside her. As she pulled the cart I rode my whip would incessantly crack at the pumping slabs of her I drove her galloping around the track faster and faster, her body aswim in moisture under the confining rubber. They would iterally be drying out under those costumes as I forced them around the last of the laps, and when the rubber was peeled from the spent unconscious forms you could turn the costume upside down and spill the water out.
There was also the sex rape in rubber. This was the wildest and essentially most vicious ordeal of all. Rubber diaphrams fitted tightly into mouths, cunts, and assholes. They were completely sheathed in rubber, inside and out. The gangbanging lineup would form the cruel jibes and mocking, inhumanly lecherous laughter driving the awaiting victim into a frenzied panic of madness. For hours I would allow the raping to continue, the money piling up in the coffers. Hours of mouth raping, ass fucking, cunt plugging. Sometimes two holes at once, the poor girl held belly down as her assailants plugged their huge pricks into her ass and mouth simultaneously, the long hot heavily veined throbbing tools filling out the rubber sheaths that almost choked their throats and filled their pained assholes, spent come spilling out and being ploughed out as the cocks rode in and out of the entrances of the body. The rubbers were quite soon spilling out loads of come, the strange sensations of being raped without the touch of skin sending several of those who underwent this strange ritual of fucking into states of hysteria, or into states of acute nymphomania. The bitches would stagger around sweltering in rubber, being plugged by cock after cock, literally filled with the meat, sometimes even all three holes together, but the rubber always holding, imposing a strange sort of virginity upon the raped flesh that was penetrated yet untouched.
I would peel the limp costumes from their trembling forms, catching clots of sticky, thready come in my fingers, lapping up and chewing the hot fluid that was turning crystalline and hard. The rubbers in their mouths would be pressed halfway down their throats to the point of suffocation. Extracting these rubbers would sometimes induce vomit, and it gave me a strange thrill to watch the eruptions that flooded the insides of those rubber hoods. They would crawl whimpering to the washtubs and miserably hang their heads over the edges, washing their faces clean, but the stain of the dishonor and degradation of their flesh remaining.
I had a thing for rubber all right, it was my special calling.
The sessions with Linda had been the best, and now I had her husband to train in rubber. After that would come the reduction to transvestia, which was the special realm of my colleague, Melinda.
Melinda dragged out the screaming, pleading Minette. She returned with Constance, the voluptuous redhead's breasts rippling with every step she took through her thin rubber blouse studded with spikes gouging deeply into her flesh. Tear tracks ran down her well structured face. She was gagged to smother her screamings, a pear choke gag well buried in her soft mouth. Her cunt and ass had been filled with rubber tubings, eliptical shaped transparent rubber membrances somewhat resembling the shape of footballs. Air had been pumped into these shapes, causing them to swell up inside her, filling and distending her cunt hole and asshole. The two shapes now filled her tunnels, her belly distended by the bulge of the rubber air filled sac within her cunt, and she showed on her face the hellish agony of every step that she was forced to take at the crack of a whip across her well marked behind. Melinda whipped that butt to a pulp, tracing gouges in the soft flesh through which the scarlet blood oozed and ran down her column perfect thighs.
"Look at what I've done to her with rubber, my fine slave boy," r sneered at the suffering Frankie. I gnawed on his ear lobe and ran my fingers up his ass, causing him to jump.
Melinda marched the captive up to me. I pulled her close to Frankie by one well imprisoned boob, tingling to the magic touch of rubber under my hands. I thrust my fingers against the lump in her abdomen. She winced but was helpless.
"Would you like to try this little trick on the stage, Frankie? It's part of a skit being played next week. Perhaps you'll be doing it to your little friend here. Rubber does have its strange applications, don't you agree? Imagine for example, being constantly filled with rubber, walking, sleeping, eating in it, only having it removed during those moments when the call of nature cannot be ignored. Imagine that Frankie."
He made gurgling noises. I really had scared the bastard.
I kicked the legs out from under my prey. She fell on her back, the rubber objects within her body making slight muffled squishing sounds. I threw myself on her, chewing and squeezing those rubber boobs. I rolled her over on her back and spanked those well bloodied cheeks of her soft little tail, feeling immense satisfaction from the pain I inflicted.
"Sock it to her," Melinda whooped me on.
She reached down the front of Frankie's panties and wet her hand with his come. She held her hand up in front of his face, leering obscenely at him.
"I thought you gave this up when you became a big boy." She wiped her hand clean on his hair.
I grabbed up one of the flaps of bloodied rubber whipped off of Frankie's panties and used it on Constance's cunt, nipping and squeezing and pulling the lips of her cunny hole, pinching her little erect hot clitoris, making her come and come.
As I worked on the girl Melinda went to work on Frankie finishing the job I had started on his ass. He would learn the meaning of rubber domination in ways he had never expected.
CHAPTER FIVE
Linda followed the rapid progress of her poor dominated husband through his many phases of bondage training. The rubber training was her favorite phase next to the climactic transvestite domination which would cap off his training.
The thought of her Frank, encased in rubber, being whipped and bound sent her into wild fits of orgasmic fantasy. She decided to submerge her own sex life into rubber adventures during his period of his training.
Barbara, a thin, tall blonde with a Mediterranean almond shaped face and slinky eyes had moved in with Linda during this period. They went to parties together, Linda clad only in her panties and Barbara magnificently attractive in a fur and rubber and leather outfit that slit up to her breasts, leaving her dancing hairy triangle to lunge free of covering with every step she took. She would stand statuesque and distant and superior at these parties, leaning against a wall with some guy sucking away between her legs. Linda would watch her play this way, the distant cool stranger, and would emit peals of laughter at this technique so in opposition to her own pose of total availability and letting it all hang out. Linda would be decked out on her back on something soft, preferably a couch, a man mounted upon her in the head to crotch position of sixty-nine, her sex flesh already moist from other suckings, her mouth tasting of the salty sea flavor of fresh come.
Barbara played at rubber with her in her new compulsion. A rubber body suit was obtained cut to Linda's exact measurements. The transvestite slave who measured her took the opportunity to feel and explore every inch of the luscious girl's body, Linda lending full encouragement by stroking his face with the soft skin of her thigh.
The suit was black, with large breast cups of reinforced elasticity to put added squeezing upon her boobs. Barbara laced the leather throngs about Linda's waist quite tightly, pulling them to the limit. The eyepieces were covered by curved pieces of mirror glass that reflected from the outside but allowed clear vision from within, miniature two-way mirrors. Linda's cunt, ass, and entire crotch area was left hanging out of the outfit.
They went to another orgy with Linda garbed in this bizarre outfit. Her ass was aflame with the welts of Barbara's whip. Barbara led her by a leash of gold chain attached to the spiked collar about Linda's neck. Linda wore the outfit of an animal trainer transformed into a rubber creation. Their rich, twin, throaty laughs of perverted excitement mounted as Barbara played with her friend's enflamed gash, palms stroking the surface of her sex tissues, fingers probing deep into the recesses, turning her tunnel into a warm, flooding pipe as she caused Linda to come repeatedly.
At the party the two girls in their bizarre finery were the immediate center of attention. Barbara wound up flat on her back with a lineup of men plugging cocks into her mouth as a bull lesbian chewed away between her legs.
Linda was taken into a bedroom by a crowd of horny guys, most of whom she knew. She thrilled to the rough hands kneading and pinching the welted contours of her ass. She wallowed on her belly on the bed, feeling the hot tight embrace of the rubber causing the moisture to well up on her skin. She wiggled and lifted her ass to the eager hands that spanked her. Hard hands pounded and pinched her rump and she writhed within the sweet warming embrace of the rubber, that thrilling texture and poreless warm indescribable embrace of it everywhere but upon her crotch and ass driving her to wilder and wilder manifestations of her blatant desires to be whipped, spanked, and screwed. A man mounted her ass, his cock held in one hand, hard and hot, thrusting at the closed but stretchable channel in her ass. She trembled with longing as it ground between her cheeks, deep in the cleft against the locked door. She wiggled in her rubber, clawing her rubber covered nails along her rubber enclosed thighs sending tingles up the insides of her thighs flashing to the center of her lust. Her dripping come juice made a small pool of wetness under her. The cock moved into her asshole, inch by inch up it as she went wild in rubber. The man fucked her ass, driving up and down as she raised and lowered her tail, trying to move up as hard as possible, wanting to experience all of the thrills of coming in rubber.
"Come on Linda, you wild fucking bitch, give me some good head," exclaimed Brad, a salesman of heavy equipment who enjoyed playing sixty-nine with wild Linda.
Linda opened her mouth to take in the throbbing head of his huge tool. The skin drawn tight on the purple distended spear point quivered against her tightly pressing lips and teeth, she gnawed it and sloshed it around and tongue washed it as the jerky, back and forth movement began, her head thrown back to straighten the line of mouth to throat so that she could better embrace the length of it and swallow it down the passage of her throat and eat the load of seed when it shot into her mouth.
As she sucked the cock in her ass hardened and spasmed, piercing the inner depths of that tight sheath with pumping come.
Another guy mouthed her back, pulling the rubber ringing her ass tight together in his hand, covering her ass, the stretch of it driving her wild with the feel of the bunched rubber. He slapped his hand against the outlined buttocks, driving Linda mad with lust and rubber fever. She came as he blasted her ass, then came once more when he dipped his short but thick cock into the opening that had been so pleasurably ploughed up by his predecessor.
After the orgy had finished and Linda lay drained and satiated, fucked in the ass, cunt and mouth, fed piss, and finger-fucked, the host of the party smoked pot with her and Barbara, talking about things that most of their circle were unaware of, such as Linda's domination habits and the fate of super stud Frank. The host, Gregory Stanswer, a weird type of try-sexual played with the well used and still sloshy cunts of his two guests.
"How is Frank making out," he queried.
"He's into the rubber thing right now. I was talking with my pussyhole buddy, Yvonne on the phone a few days ago. I'm going up there next weekend to spend a few days watching him being trained. I'll get a few whacks at him myself, and try out some of the new slaves.
"What about me coming along," Barbara suggested. She laughed with delight at the thought of those slaves being tortured and the live whipping shows that went on below those enclaves of viewing booths.
"I wouldn't mind it myself," Gregory added. "I've never been to that place. Anyway, just what is being done to Frank by those ladies?"
"All sorts of things really. For example, they give him a special rubber enema every morning. A rubber intestine is shoved up into him, and then filled with hot water, filling out and being pushed up into him at the same time, actually down into him since he's hanging upside down at the time. Finally it's all filled with water and following the passage and twisting of his own guts, a couple of feet of it buried inside him. He stands there, feeling rubber all along the inside of his guts for a few minutes, before the water is pumped out and the emptied membrane carefully withdrawn from him. Quite an interesting treatment."
"Go on," Gregory pleaded, his excitement unsatisfied, "what happens next?"
"Oh, all sorts of things. They stake him out on his back completely encased in rubber, only his nostrils free. There's a flap in the front of his rubber pants and the male slaves in training with him open up that flap and play with his cock and balls. He can't see what's being done to him or by whom, and all he can do is bear it in silence. They jerk him off and tickle his balls and sometimes he's staked out belly down and gang-banged the way I was so pleasurably tonight, cock after cock worming its way into him, spouting off and being replaced. Oh shit, just thinking about it makes me horny."
Barbara reached up under the rubber front of Linda's costume to grope at her naked, sweet skinned bubbies. She pinched the nipples cruelly, grinding and twisting the tender tips, making them stand up hard and slapping the points together roughly.
At the apartment they shared Barbara decked her friend out for a night in rubber bondage. She stuffed rubber balls up into the gaping cunt and tight ass of the rubber lusting bitch-girl. The balls were crammed tightly into her long pussy sheath, causing the beautiful dominatress-slavegirl to begin orgasming all over again. Spots of heat flared within the apparatus of her sex organs. The rubber balls were crammed tightly into her, filling cunt and ass so that her belly showed the outlined spheres within her as she tottered about. A rubber membrane wrapped around and around her crotch like a bandage and tied off round her waist sealed the balls inside her.
Linda writhed and tore at herself in rubber madness. She clawed grooves into her tits and twisted and pulled her own nipples, torturing herself. She squeezed her legs together as hard as she could, bringing on waves of faintness as she pressed the balls embedded in herself flat out. She lay on her back and bicycle-pumped her legs in the air, causing herself to faint. Her legs kept jerking as she lay unconscious.
Barbara worked on the sprawled form, stuffing the ample legs into rubber pants that were split-toed in the manner of Japanese sandles in the foot coverings, setting her big toes in opposition to the others. She fastened shoulder length rubber gloves onto her friend, buckling the gloves together by straps reaching across her shoulder blades. The gloves were fingerless save for the thumbs. The thumbs were bound to the big toes with cords through small rings on the tips of the toes and thumbs, drawing Linda's body backwards into a bow. She regained consciousness in this excrutiating position, a rubber ball gag stuffed into her mouth, rubber plugs in her ears, resting on a rubber sheet spread on a deep layer of foam rubber into which her body sank in exquisite comfort offsetting her strained posture and stuffed cunt and ass. She spent the night in this way.
Linda's desires soon changed to domination of others in rubber. Barbara was a perfect subject. She wrapped Barbara in a rubber sheet, cording the rings that ran around the border of the sheet so that the girl was unable to extricate herself unaided. Only her head lunged through an opening in one side. The opening was tightly bound up around her neck and the sheet was suspended from a pulley stem leaving Barbara hanging into the air horizontally with only her head free. Linda then simply ignored her pleas to be freed. She spent hours each day brushing Barbara's lustrous hair, stroking and caressing er, sucking and licking and kissing and biting every bit of Barbara's face. She fed her ample supplied of food and copious amounts of water, so that Barbara was soon wallowing within a pool of sweaty piss and enduring the indignities of being covered with her own shit. Her body seated pools of water each day and the piss she had to evacuate each day added to this. But the piles of shit that grew between her legs surpassed all of these other discomforts.
Linda carried on the punishment long past the point of limitation that both knew was not to be passed, and the frenzied curses that Barbara heaped upon her treacherous friend were indescribable. Linda washed Barbara's mouth out with soapy water, three quarts of it stuffed into the dangling girl from an enema bag. She whipped the rubber bag with a rubber truncheon, thrilling to the awesome sound of rubber striking rubber as she flailed at her too trusting roommate. She was caught in the throes of rubber madness and could not release Barbara.
She whipped and whipped at that soggy rubber sack filled with the reeking, liquid stained, befouled body of Barbara, thrilling to Barbara's groans, taking greater and ever greater satisfaction from every aspect of the torture she inflicted.
"How does it feel in there baby? Do you want to come out of that sack?"
"Oh please release me. I can't take any more, I'm clotted with filth. I can feel it crawling between my legs. I have to wet myself again."
The whip hit her. "Ahhh, you dirty rotten bitch, I'll skin you alive when I get out of here, I'll hang you by your toes and stuff every inch of this rubber sack up your rotten ass. I'll show you the thrills of rubber."
"It would be very stupid of me to turn you loose after all of the terrible things I've forced you to undergo these last few days. You would be certain to take out some sort of diabolical revenge on me. But don't think I won't figure something out."
Linda already knew what she was going to do.
When she arrived at The Pleasure Dome by car there was a large bundle packaged in the trunk of her car, wrapped in rubber, a living package covered in its own filth that fought and screamed when dragged out of the rubber sack and thrown headfirst into a pool of water. The filth was scraped off of the disheveled statuesque beauty and she was carried over the shoulder of mighty Melinda, kicking and protesting, having her delicious ass beaten raw all the way along the interminable corridors, to be thrown into a dark, dank cell, trembling and filled with terror at the thought of her fate.
This was the perfect solution to Linda, enslaving her friend, and it occurred to the cruel deceitful girl that the enslaving of her loved ones was becoming a regular habit. This time she would not pay the bill for it.
Madam was somewhat hesitant over the terms of the new deal she struck with Linda.
"I seldom take on slaves in this manner, there is always someone committing them to my care for a lot of heavy bread."
"Barbara is one hell of a high class broad, and just the type of new talent you need in this whorehouse."
"My dear, don't use that term," Madam cautioned.
"It may be crude, but is the apt one, now you just break her in the way you want her and keep her here. She can hand it out fine and you'll be able to teach her how to take it. Trust me, Barbara will become a real favorite with your patrons. Now, I want to see Frank."
A man clad in leather was ushered in, staggering and tottering about blinded by the eyeless rubber mask strapped to his head. There was not enough of his body showing to allow his wife to recognize him if she had been unaware of his true identity.
"Take a look back here," Madame Vanavia urged Linda, spreading the cheeks of Frank's buttocks. "We keep this dildo up his ass now most of the time, spreading and permanently increasing the girth of that opening. Makes it a hell of a lot easier to fuck him."
"A hell of a good idea," gloated Linda. "When I take him back I'll keep a dildo up him most of the time."
The cruel wife twisted it around, wedging it in a fraction of an inch deeper. She pinched the rubber covered ass slabs, and tweeked the tip of his cock. He stumbled about in helpless confusion.
"When I get him home I'll ram an even larger one up into him."
Madame kissed her ruthless friend. "You are one hell of a foul bitch. You'll always have a home if you want to come to work for me again."
"Maybe on a part time basis, but I prefer my freedom too much to be tied down here. I like to take it one day at a time now and not make too many plans."
Linda had Madam garbed in full length rubber sheath outfits that glistened under layers of polishing oils. The miserable man was stripped and forced to kneel at their feet, licking the slick rubber with his tongue. The oil gave it a strange bittersweet flavor. They thrilled to the subtle touch of his tongue and hands under the rubber. He moved up their well formed calves, column smooth thighs, curvaceous pussies, up bellies that were flat and taut, up rounded rubbery buncy tits, up to their throats. It took him the better part of an hour and as he worked on one the whip of the other would urge him on with a continual biting and snapping at his much whipped battered ass.
He was released at the end of an hour to partake in a scheduled performance. He was part of a team of two whipping Constance front and back. Linda and Madame retired to a choice viewing booth to witness the proceedings, Linda taking up a position across Madame's lap, still clad in the rubber outfit and just aching for an ass warming spanking. Madame socked it to her as they watched the show, the soft, kissing rubber sleek against Linda's body, spreading the sweet trickling liquid from between her cunt lips across her thighs.
Frank and some muscle clown flailed away at the much abused Constance, this show not a subtle or a cunning one, but a rather brutal display considering all of the damage already acrued on the girl's form in the nature of semi-healed welts, bruises and burns.
Frank poured alternating buckets of ice-cold and scalding hot water over the girl, glorying in his temporary release from slavery in order to fulfill the role of the master. But the role was not as powerful within his fantasies as it once had been, and he realized in dismay that his domineering impulses really were being submerged.
In a fit of anger he whipped the sensitized flesh of the long-suffering girl, finding a temporary release to his pent-up frustrations. Constance bucked and fought and kicked at the slackness of her bondage which allowed her plenty of capacity for movement. It was all part of the sport. But there were two whips at work on her, slashing her flesh bloody, tearing her raw, ripping her much battered skin to shreds.
Madame slammed away on the upturned ass across her lap with both hands as the whipping increased in frenzy until the victim's body danced under the whips, streaming blood from dozens of weals in the back, ass, tits, belly, thighs and shoulders. The muscleman concentrated on the armpits, the tip of his implement, whipping around and gouging the bleeding breasts.
"That girl does seem to get more than her share, Madame mused as she walloped away. "Hardly an inch of her body that hasn't felt the sting of the whip. But she does appeal to our patrons, and that just makes it too bad for her."
"OHH, aahh...." Do they like to see Frank get his ass whipped off," Linda inquired as she came once more.
"Quite a hell of a lot, he screams in such an amusing way when you whip him, and he does put such feeling into it."
Frank threw a few buckets of water over Constance to revive the girl who had fainted from her pain. He kissed her tenderly on the lips and poked his fingers tentatively into her cunt to the delight of the viewers, no doubt. He knew which window his bitch wife and Madame were at and he wished fervently that it was their asses he was working on.
He started in again on the begging, pleading girl's soft breasts. He began to feel more like his old self and increased the force of his blows, ripping thin flaps of skin loose that hung from her swaying and well whipped tits.
Linda stirred uneasily. "I know you always guarantee success and part of the arrangement is that you use Frank as a stud and show freak. But I'm absolutely certain that you should get him off the girl whipping habit for a while if you're really going to break him to my will. I know he's thinking about me when he whips her ass that way."
Madame laughed. "Be extra nice to me and I'll consider it." She punctuated her statement with a fresh flurry of hard swats across the rubber bottom, which already felt very warm through the black glossy fabric. Linda lay there enjoying the spanking and watching the whipping and having a ball.
CHAPTER SIX
The raven-tressed Madame of The Pleasure Dome, the sinister Madame Vanavia cracked her whip across the rumps spread in a half-crescent arc for her sport. All of the sniveling males in her clutches had been shackled and bound together for a mass punishment, a veritable festival of domination. Rubber was the keynote of the whole affair. The girls walking among the quaking pansires with busy whips were clad in rubber, as were their victims, totally encased in the shiny material except for their exposed asses which leaked scarlet trickles down the black rubber suits.
The idea had occurred to Vanavia when whipping Frank in his leather and rubber penitence suit.
Yvonne snapped her whip about the waist of a simpering little gay blond boy whose mama had turned him over to the house. Another cracking blow ripped a flap of skin loose from his spasming behind. Her next shot was upset by Judy, a sassy blonde who chose Yvonne's target to rake with her cat o'nine tails. Cursing at the impudence Yvonne turned her attention to Frank, whose well belabored ass slabs provided a tempting target.
"Take that, idiot," she snarled, slashing another red notch into his ass. "Try a few across that rubber," she laughed, whipping the black expanse that gave his back a measure of protection, however, slight.
Vanavia began to whip with a fury and wild abandon that sent her girls scurrying for safety. She swung the whip in great tearing arcs, ripping half a dozen asses with every blow, then slashing them even more fiercely with terrible backhand returns. It was indeed a whipping of monumental proportions, as she worked on twenty bleeding, torn up behinds simultaneously. The air was filled with terrible screams in an unbearable cacophany as flesh was rent and gouged mercilessly.
Vanavia began to whip the rubber clad bodies, the thudding sounds of whip leather upon rubber adding to the screaming chaos that assaulted the ear. Of course, the effort of such whipping could not be maintained for any considerable period, and soon her weary arm bade her halt her activities.
The girls went to work on the men once again, this time applying a series of rubber torments to them. Long thin rubber tubes were forced down their throats, to allow the ingest of portions of salty water into their stomachs. Dried mouths were further tortured in this way, as the salted brews worked in their guts. Enema bags, bulbs, and lengths of tubing were put to work everywhere. Piteous pleadings for mercy were as usual totally ignored. Pots of hot soapy water were prepared. Upside down bodies were pumped full of quarts of the degrading liquid. Frank quailed and writhed in sheer loathing as the mob of cackling jeering girls filled his ass with the foul liquid, humiliating him in this awful way, pumping quarts into him, There was a general run for the bathrooms, loads of water and filth being disgorged in a splashing slippery trail of mess as the men went scurrying and falling over one another, carooming off of one another and the walls, great spurts of water shooting out of their asses as they made for the bathrooms and piled up at the doors.
Linda would have found the sight unbelievably arousing if she had been there, but she herself was at an entirely different rubber affair, a mass orgy of rubber clad lesbians, dozens of writhing bodies clad in rubber, black and red and pastel pink the shade of baby skin. Hands stroked nipples and clits, pinched tits and slapped bottoms. Linda was on a couch with another blonde girl, their mouths glued together, tongues embraced, exchanging swirling balls of saliva with one another. Linda squeezed her friend's hot tits outlined through the rubber, nipples so hard and so revealed that it was as if they were immersed within a layer of skin.
Leather whips cracked across rubber covered bodies turning flesh red and raw and beating soft curvacious bodies to pulp. Linda squealed as a tall woman with only her burning wild fanatic eyes showing through the slits of her rubber helmet pulled Linda's partner away and took her place. Linda rolled about frantically as the stranger whipped her tits, the whip making muffled cracking noises as it slashed against the rubber. Lances of fire seared through her tits which were protected by the rubber costume.
Linda felt her over strained bladder disgorge once more. It was a wild sensation to slowly piss in her costume as she was whipped. The air was filled with the strong mingled odor of piss and sweat, there were continual splashing sounds as each woman moved about. The tall woman threw herself on Linda, forcing the butt of her whip into the one opening that exposed Linda to her, the wide ring in the zippered flap over Linda's crotch. Linda went into contortions of pure sex hysteria as the whip handle was shoved into her wet pussy, rammed up hard and twisted all about. The woman chewed into the rubber covering Linda's tits, the rubber of her own mask and the rubber of Linda's costume holding back the force of her biting teeth. Linda dug her hands into the tall girl's ass, pulling her close, feeling the shape of a piss bag under his costume between her buttocks, filled with the hot liquid that the girl had pissed into it. Linda pounded at the bag, trying to burst it inside the girl's costume. The tall girl realized what she was trying to do and arched her ass to help Linda break the bag. She ripped with teeth and claws at the sensitized tits under Linda's costume as Linda tried to beat the piss out of the rubber sac. She broke the bag, a splashing cascade drenched the girl's ass and thighs. They squished each other's rubber costumes, rubbing their legs together, foot pieces soggy with liquid.
Two other girls came over and began to whip the two girls locked together. The whips slashed across the ass of the tall girl as Linda held her immovably for the two whips, to slash at. A tear was sent in the rubber that protected her ass. The two immediately went to work on it, whipping the rent into a large tear across both cheeks of the ass, then increasing the size of it, knocking off pieces as the tear gaped larger and larger and the flaps of rubber danced and bounced as the whips enlarged the tear. The tall girl screamed and threshed as her behind was slashed to crimson shreds by the two whips. Small bits of skin were torn away. Linda held her fast, thrilling to the stranger's agony and the squishing sound the puddle's of piss under, their costume's made as they were whipped.
Linda left the girl, ass draped over an arm of the couch, being flogged mercilessly, her entire ass a raw flayed piece of meat; and went into the bathroom looking for more action. Girls were under the shower, soaping their rubber clad bodies as another girl whipped at them, the whip splashing water everywhere. She had no control over her action and thus was a real menace with the implement, striking at them through the falling cascades of ice cold water. Linda got in, taking first several searing lashes across her bottom that ripped the rubber wide open. Linda felt blood running from her split open buttock and reached behind to claw her own flesh with a masochistic madness that made her foam at the mouth. She plunged into the wild mass of squealing girls in the shower, half spilling over each other, soaping, grabbing, pounding, beating. One had caught the whip across the face and had a gaping cut, but didn't care. Linda caught this girl about the waist as they both fell and rammed fingers through the cunt ring on her costume, scratching the inside of the girl's cunt in her uncaring sadistic eagerness for sensation. They slapped each other back and forth across reddening faces, claret beginning to run from slapped noses. Linda brought a trickle of blood from the girl's mouth, a delicate rivulet that flowed from the corner of her mouth. Water flowed on it, turning it to a breaking dissolving pool, washing it away. The whip caught Linda across her tit. The girl squeezed Linda's whipped tit hard with both hands, turning the searing welt line into a bolt of fire tearing through Linda's breast. They pulled one another's hair in maniacal glee, tearing loose wet thick tufts which they stuffed into each other's mouths, slapping faces once more, poking and biting rubberized tits. They stood up and ground into the other two, all crowding under the shower. Linda felt the seat of her costume being clutched and ripped, torn until her ass hung out. Her ass was clawed bloody, long furrows were clawed into it, she welcomed the pain passionately, turning so as to better receive it. She stepped out from under the water, trying to clear her enflamed head, feeling the kiss of fire as the girl with the whip slashed away at her bleeding hanging out ass. Linda ground her cheeks together, jiggled the globes up and down, positioned herself to be more thoroughly ass whipped. The long wet lash was dangerous and unpredictable in that unmanageable space in the hands of that wild girl with flaming spaced out eyes who wielded it, and especially as it was soaking wet with water. It clung to the flesh it butchered, tearing long furrows of skin, loose. Linda soon went down under the punishment and lay contently in the tub playing with the water and watching the fun.
A friend came in there to use the toilet. She dropped the flap that formed the rear of her suit and was about to empty herself out when one of the girls under the shower reached out for her. She pissed under the shower crowding in with the others, her piss streaming onto Linda's face as they all tripped over each other and went down in a heap half burying Linda. Linda staggered out of the bathroom dripping pools of water, her legs filled with water, blood streaming from her battered behind.
Most of the girls had now discarded costumes or parts of costumes. Linda discarded hers, wincing now at her torn ass. She threw herself on an enormous fat girl garbed in pink rubber, the body squishing and recoiling under her as if she had landed on a huge rubber ball. Linda sank her hands into rubber soft tits and belly fat, punched both fists into the fat girl's mammoth ass, her hands vanishing past the wrists. The ball of rubber lad fat rolled over on top of Linda, clawing at the white skin. Linda bit and chewed the fat rubber covered flesh, pulping and squeezing and groping great handfuls of the meat.
The fat girl seized a huge dildo and hauled Linda's tail up under one arm. She rammed the thing up Linda's ass with one vicious wild heave that almost sent Linda into shock. The fat girl picked up another dong, twice the size of the first one and slammed this device up Linda's snatch also in one cruel lunge.
Linda pulled open the slit over the fat girl's cunt, a massive opening with huge thick pink lips and great masses of curly black pubic hairs. Linda plunged her entire hand into this cavern, balling it into a fist to twist and thrust and move it all about inside that huge tunnel. The fat girl gasped in shocked reaction and began to move the huge dildos embedded in Linda back and forth with redoubled energy.
They locked into a mutual bundle of threshing hurting and sex depravity. They went mad together, chewing and tearing flaps of rubber, pulling and poking, slapping and beating. The fat girl drove both rubber dongs home right up to the bases of the shafts, rammed them in ruthlessly. Linda in turn buried her hand up the come sloshy hot cunt of the fat girl, almost up to her elbow, causing an immense tearing orgasm of pain-pleasure to send the entire fleshy body into convulsions. Linda yanked out her hand and buried both fists in the oversize belly of the fat girl. She seized the two kingsize nipples hard against the rubber suit and twisted them together, grinding the huge boobs into a single fleshy pudding. She rolled the heavy girl over and began to work on her ass, jumping up and down on the billowy cushions, pounding and spanking them. Linda secured a whip and started to whip the rubber protection off of the huge many layered globes. She tore great flaps of rubber away revealing the much welted and whip scarred expanses of dimpled, wrinkled slabs of white flesh. Linda whipped scores of interconnected, joined welts, gouging great rips into the soft piles of white meat. Linda whipped jagged flaps of rubber into the blood oozing welts and jumped up and down on the soft bloody package.
Linda felt her pussy overflowing with churning pussy come and the dildos sent fire and lightning searing through her passages, front and back. Linda threw herself on the giant ass in a frenzy of passion, biting great mouthfuls of the tasty scarlet blood flavored meat. Linda began to tear away pieces of the delicate thin rubber and shove them up the fat girl's ass. Their antics were so out of it that a crowd of spectators who had ceased their own activities to watch gathered about them.
All of the people crowded about watching her drove Linda on to even greater excesses. She jammed great pieces of pink rubber stripping up the fatty ass and used the handle of the whip as a plunger to ram them up. Someone handed her a small dildo and a fiendish thought instantly occurred to her wild imagination. She rammed the dong up the ass and then drove it all the way in out of sight, using the whip handle to actually drive it out of sight up the tunnel of the huge bottom. The fat girl went into a swoon, and Linda turned to other bodies to satiate her frenzy.
Her husband, Frank was enjoying quite a different type of rubber activity.
He hung from a ceiling by a rope secured through a ring in the rubber helmet that had been locked under his chin. This was the totality of his means of suspension, but of course he had no opportunity anyway to free himself. He was bound into the rigorous confinement of a rubber suit. His legs were within a single leg covering without any seperation between his two legs. Leather straps around his ankles completed the binding of his legs. His arms were secured in a straight jacket arrangement. He could see out of eye pieces what was being done to him. A ball gag had been jammed into his mouth, he swayed slightly back and forth by the ring, as he was whipped and beaten at frequent intervals. There were flaps in the front and back of his discipline suit for the entrance and egress of rubber tubings used in various ways.
Yvonne walked up to her captive and caressed the bulge in his crotch. She inserted her hand under the flap and rocked him back and forth by his cock. She laughed at him as his tool began to heat up in her and, and then let his half formed erection die and zipped his flap shut again.
"If you've a very good little man we might do that one later. As for right now, We have an entirely different program in mind."
Frank knew what that meant, another ass breaking whipping. The pain was somewhat muffled at first by the rubber, but the irritation of the material against his sweaty skin caused the heightened sensitivity that made succeeding barrages upon the well battered flesh more and more painful.
The first searing blow fell upon his ass. The kiss of fire crossed the massive network of red streaks already completely covering his ass under the rubber, the idea was to completely whip every inch of his butt crimson without breaking the skin through the protection of the punishment suit thereby greater multiplying the range of the beatings that could be inflicted upon him.
"How did that feel? Are you ready for more of the same?"
The whip became a blur of continuous motion as it hit him again and again, looping around his waist, wrapping all the way around the dangling black form to swing it wildly to and fro, back and forth. Frank felt himself going sick from the continually changing motion, the whipping pain, and the inability of his body to rid itself of the coats of moisture accumulated on his skin.
Yvonne gave him twenty sharp cracks across his ass, in rapid fire succession, every blow within an inch on the previous one, the whole flurry forming an almost continuous band of weals upon previous still fresh layers. There was not an inch of Frank's rump that was not in dire and dreadful pain.
"Enough of that for a while," Yvonne told him, throwing the whip into a corner. "I don't think you could take any more for some time."
She steadied the swaying half-conscious body. The eyes were half glazed with suffering and fatigue, the total confinement of the body had caused cramps and then numbness enhanced by the unbearable discomfort of not being able to shed sweat under the hot suit. Frank was literally drenched in his own moisture, and this added burning itching sensations to every weal and mark, every chafe and multi-tongued welt mark. His agony was almost total.
"I think that after a few more sessions in rubber you'll be actually glad to move on to transvestiteism." She gave him a dose of the smelling salts under his nostrils. "Come on dummy, you're not that far gone on me. We still have a few games on the program."
Yvonne opened the flap in the back of his rubber suit. She surveyed the damage she had done. The ends of the myriad welts met in confused streaks and joinings across the crease of his ass cleft. She would have been interested in seeing the total expanse of his butt, but that would have meant removing his suit for a while.
Yvonne shoved a long thick rubber tube up his ass. The other end was attached to a bicycle pump. Yvonne began to pump air up his ass. The feel of the air blowing up his anal passage sent Frank into wild spasms of twisting and threshings. Muffled sobs and whimpers came through his gag.
"What's the matter now, don't you enjoy this? You're pretty full of hot air anyway, so a little more isn't going to hurt you very much."
Yvonne pumped away as fast as she could, sending great spurts of air up his ass. When she had finished she closed the flap. The man groaned in misery as the air enema sent little stabs and pangs of pain through his guts. He passed gas in loud fartings which embarrassed and degraded him utterly. Yvonne helped the process by prodding and poking his belly.
"Lucky for me you have that suit on," she mockingly informed him. "If not it wouldn't be very comfortable standing downwind from you. This should do for the moment. You can relax, you dummy crybaby. I'm going to leave you alone for about an hour."
Before leaving Yvonne began swinging him back and forth in great arcs that almost raised his body horizontal at the apex of the swing. She left him that way, swinging in ever lessening arcs, farting the pockets of air out of himself, his ass a burning patch of fire, arms cramped and numb, every inch of his body a total blanket of agony.
Linda would have found that scene incredibly satisfying. But she had her own activities going. The massive rubber dyke orgy was finally breaking up after several wild days. Linda was still going strong though, along with several other hardy and overstimulated rubber bitches. Linda was working on the fat girl once more, shoving rubber implements into her. She rammed an oversize double headed dong into the fat blonde girl, and tied on a massive pair of rubber diapers over them. She used wrappings of leather strips and bandages to bind the entire mass firmly in place. The girl had been filled with three gallons of hot soapy water up her overpadded ass, and she staggered around, filled with water and rubber. A few girls whipped her rubber covered ass to spur on her faltering steps.
Linda played 69 with Juci Lucy, a friend who enjoyed dominating males clad in rubber baby clothes and transvestite gear. Juicy Lucy would help Linda dominate her husband when he had completed his training, she was a real expert and derived an extra kick from dominating a male who was not her own property.
"How is that bastard, Frank," Lucy inquired in between mouthfuls of cunt. "What's he into now?"
"His rubber training chapter should be just about finished. After that Madame Vanavia will break him into transvestite servitude. There's nothing like being a half-female to shatter the domineering instincts of a male."
"Well, just make sure you never get too careless with him. Some of them never do become fully domesticated, always a bit of the wild left in them."
"I want a bit of a wild streak in Frank," Linda replied. "I want to dominate couples with him and I'll need a bit of masterhood from him occasionally. Not against me, of course."
The entire floor and furnishings were covered with torn bits and pieces of rubber costumes. There were pools of water and streaks and droplets of blood everywhere. Whips, dildos and other implements littered the premises.
Several girls were in the John trying to retrieve a dong that had been wedged up a girl's ass so far that it had become lodged in there and they could not get a grip on it. She was quite hysterical about the whole thing. They had to pin her down on a bed and try to catch the thing out of her with a set of oversize giant tweezers. That failed so she had to go home that way with the dong up her ass and try to explain that away to her square stupid jerk husband as best she could along with the numerous welts and bruises on her body.
Linda shoved a well used dong inside her own cunt. It was heavily coated with dried come stains and smelled strongly of cunt. Linda could smell cunt everywhere, the air reeked of it. She went to the shower and stood under it, letting the water run over her torn body.
She was the last to leave the party after one last little double spanking session with Trudy Arnsworth, the hostess. It had been a fantastic party and she would feel the effects for more than a week. She wanted to be alone for a while.
She spent several days in her apartment garbed in her favorite rubber suit. She slept in it, ate in it, bathed in it. It was great fun to let the water cascade down the suit, washing out at her ankles, refreshing her body within the garment. She contented herself sexually with vibrators and rubber dongs, walking around with tickler dongs up her ass and embedded within the richness of her cunt.
She thought of her husband Frank, and of the friend she had delivered over to The Pleasure Dome. Soon she would see them once more, and her very good friends working the house.
Barbara had fallen in with the routine of the place. She could see that the only way she would ever be permitted to leave could be as an employee rather than a slave. She was a good hand with the whip, although her first callings as a slave were to take punishment rather than hand it out.
Yvonne set her up for her first whipping performance. There was really little to do on her part except to scream lustily and give the truthful impression that she was suffering. She was bound to a wall, her hands shackled above he head. Her legs were then drawn up and shackled at the ankles to ringbolts embedded in the walls beyond her hands. She was now shackled in a tight package to the wall, peering out fearfully between her thighs, her ass completely exposed and her whole hairy cleft vulnerable to harm. It was a frightful position to be in.
"Now just wait here honey," Yvonne chuckled. "Your audience will be filing in within a matter of minutes. You won't be able to see them of course, but they'll be up there within those tiers of booths all around the walls. Those windows are mirrors from this side, but they can see everything that goes on as if they were watching through glass."
Yvonne puffed at a joint. "Want a drag," she inquired.
Barbara nodded and received the solace of several long puffs of pot. Yvonne patted her on her doubled up and wide spread bottom.
"This is certainly in the right position for plenty of treatment. I wish that I was on the program to whip it instead of Pete. Maybe after the show it would be a good idea to let the patrons come down and inspect the meat at first hand."
Barbara quivered in dread.
"Please, anything but that."
The conversation was cut short at this point by the commencement of the show. Barbara stared fearfully at the heavily muscled torturer clad in nothing but a leather hood, his huge organ standing up with the thrill of whipping her wide spread ass. The cat o'nine tails he wielded was capable of doing the job.
Barbara screamed in sheer agony when he slashed her across her bottom. A network of scarlet tracks was left across her rump on both cheeks by the whip. Her screams rose to maddened levels of pain as the whip continued to strike her, leaving torn red patches of flesh, great bands of deep gashes that spilled lines of claret down her butt to trickle down the walls or splash little pools on the floor drop by drop. It was a memorable first live show for Barbara, a beating she would never forget.
CHAPTER SEVEN
They were now going to make a transvestite fag out of me. Frankie the faggot. I was bound to a stool, the spike tips on the surface pricking my tender ass which still oozed blood from a succssion of merciless beatings. Michael worked on me. They called him Mickie. He fluffed about me, in a pink miniskirt which flared about his waist as he pirouetted about to reveal the rose patterned pink panties he wore. There was a rubber cock shoved up his tender rear and he apparently enjoyed the feel of it quite a pot. His skin was hairless and soft as a girl's. His chest had been mashed and compressed into breast buds with constricting bands and waist cincher. Under his blouse it looked real, especially aided by his well tipped falsies. His hair was long, blond, shimmering and highlighted. As he worked on me he sang merry as some damn bird and made love to me, playing with my cock with his long girlish fingers, kissing my ears and throat, and running his tongue over my lips. He made tss-tssing sounds over my well butchered ass and touched his fingers gingerly to the hurting places on it. But I was in no mood to be paled with by this TV as he turned me into a creature like himself.
"Get away from me you little faggot bastard. Touch me again and I'll rip your head off."
He looked at me with wide eyes and the hurt expression of a doe and then loudly rattled the chains binding my hands as if to tell me that I had forgotten that I was bound helplessly. As if I could forget.
His butterfly fingers danced over my skin. He shaved me with consummate skill, working on one area at a time, inch by inch with unhurried professional skill. He whistled and hummed as he transformed me without the slightest attentions to my entreaties or pleadings for him to cease. He shaved my chest hair, my legs, every inch on my body. He brushed and polished with silken rags, piled and lathered me. He rubbed my flesh with baby powder, and kept right on working.
Melinda came in to aid him, lending him the muscle and authority necessary to finish the job. I quailed before her might and violence.
He stood me up, running his hands up and down my hips, the tips of his fingers along the globes of my testicle sacs. I felt tingles of desire as he worked on me despite myself. The idea of becoming a pseudo woman, a sex object to be worshipped and desired and used also filled me with that strange sinking desire that I had fought against.
He put the panties on me, tight black lace panties that held my cock and balls in tight silken embrace. The very images that they called to mind were alien and feminine and I could already gauge the strange new sensations that played at my mind. He carressed long black nylons up my legs, constantly moving his fingers to knead and explore the bulge in the front of my panties. The panties left the greater bulk of my ass slabs free and came an inch below the upper limit of the crease of my ass, and Melinda laughing with delight moved behind me to goose me with her fingers and slap my ass.
I felt fingernails running along the strands of the fibrous nylons sending girlish shivers of pleasure through me as I felt hands playing with my soft tail, welted and battered from whippings.
"Look at the baby's thing stand up Mickie, he's really digging this TV trip. Pretty soon he'll be a little playmate for you pet." Melinda ran her hand affectionately through Mickie's hair as he blushed self-consciously and went back to his transformation of me.
My hair had grown longer in those many weeks, and it had been shampooed and oiled and treated until it sparkled. Nevertheless a luxurious blond wig was added, a masterpiece of long golden tresses spilling to my waist. I felt more and more girlish with each additional application to my new role and less and less did I resemble both inwardly and outwardly the domineering man I had once been.
A heavy makeup base followed. My beard had been shaven quite closely and already the electrolysis treatments had commenced and the first small patch of it had been irretrievably lost of be followed by the rest bit by bit. Eyeshadow and false lashes and a touch of lipstick. More degradation, more thrills. My face had been changed to that of a girl, the masculine lines and crags and shape of it mocking this false mask that had been added onto it.
I slipped into a dress, a simple thing with a very short skirt that allowed my panties to show as I walked. No bra, a simple and subtle effect not ruined by grotesque overdressing. I staggered about on my high heel shoes, under the orders of Melinda imitating as best I could the walking of a woman. Mickie also broke up watching my clumsy efforts and soon had me walking in better form. He led me through the movements, putting a graceful swaying wiggle into my hips as I walked about the room. He felt me up as he tutored me, his hands under my skirt, palms across the white curve of my ass fanning and clenching the soft flesh.
I walked down those corridors of The Pleasure Dome attracting whistles and coarse obscenities, "Who's the new girl-I want a piece of that soft white ass-can she suck my cock for a while?"
I was felt and handled coarsely by male and female hands and reacted to both, almost fancying that I was really becoming a girl.
Madame Vanavia was ecstatic over my new appearance, giving Mickie a hot ass spanking across her lap to show her appreciation. He simpered and groveled happily and licked the points of her leather shoes clean with his tongue. I turned from the sight.
"Join him," Madame Vanavia commanded harshly.
I had no choice, I jumped at the two word command and fell groveling at her feet. I washed the shiny leather with my tongue, filling my mouth with the tip of her shoe. Mickie rolled his hip into mine as we worked and Vanavia tentatively played with the locks of my new blond wig, examining it to see if it was well set in place.
Vanavia raised the front of her skirt, and I lifted my head between her legs and let the flap fall back over my head burying my face between her soft warm thighs, the aroma of her gash filling my nostrils with spicy perfume, the rustling skirt soft against my wig as I sucked gently at her, mouthing her lips, running the puffy rolls of lip between my own moist mouth lips, boldly exploring and thrusting with my tongue. Mickie pulled up my own skirt and dropped my panties, running his hands over my ass globes exposed to Madame, seeking and finding her approval to continue. He thrust his tongue into the crease between my cheeks, ran his tongue along it, moistening it thoroughly on both sides with the underside of his tongue, filling my body with thrilling and exquisite sensations. He palmed my nuts and grasped my cock, fingering the line of the vein, that raised crooked line of blue that ran from the base to the head. He played with my cock and balls as he licked his tongue in and out of my asshole, and I kept on sucking at Madame Vanavia's heating and ever moistening quim, wishing that I had one of my own to be played with so wonderfully.
"Keep it up, go faster, oh don't stop, don't stop," she directed.
Mickie replaced my panties and then continued what he had been doing before right through the exciting fabric. I almost went wild with joy. I felt the cunt that I sucked at becoming agitated and soon my tongue was greeted with the flowing fluid that signified the mounting pleasure of Madame Vanavia.
Mickie became my constant companion over the next few days. He was a great propagandist for transvestia, always harping on the wild pleasures of the cross dresser. Of course, all of my pleasures were hampered by the severe bondage and discipline that was constantly meted out to me. And it was a bitter thing when Constance sneered maliciously over my new disgrace. I would take it out of her ass for that.
Mickie constantly necked and played with me. His tongue and hands were never still. He sucked me off when I lay bound in bed dressed in a shortie nightgown. He then eased his body onto mine and spent the night wallowing on top of me. My body was soon covered with saliva and little nipping bite marks. In the showers the next morning the results and activities of the past night were clearly evident.
Of course my status with the other slave males had changed once more now that I was in TV training. I was fair game for all and the shower ritual was a maddening session of gropings and goosings. Under the prompting of Yvonne who came striding into the shower room naked on this occasion a gang bang followed. I did not fight it this time, I let it happen and enjoyed it.
Yvonne carried a bar of perfumed soap into the showers with her. She began to soap and wash her jiggling wiggling ass, maddening us with her tantalizing yet unavailable body. Then she began to soap me, my hairless chest, my soft ass. She laughed her evil bitch laugh as she did it, urging the others to join her.
"If you haven't got a girl a good clean boy is always a good substitute." Her hands soaped up my ass. "Who wants the first trip into here? I promise you an exceptional ride, he's all ripe and ready for it."
Unfortunately she was right, I was ready for it. I wiggled and stuck up my butt, bent over and begged for it. Cock after cock slipped hard and hot into me, reamed me out, made its wild dance inside me, and dropped out spent. A pleasant hot pain rose within my over abused asshole and lingered with me the rest of the day. It was pleasant.
I let myself go, I ceased fighting. Better to be a slave, a transvestite, to sink into it and let it happen. No more worryings and useless plottings, dire dreams of unobtainable vengeance, I was there until I broke without any mistakes, I could not fool them so why go on fighting.
Mickie put me into my outfit. The usual ritual, the shaving and body cream rubs to tenderize my tough masculine skin, the dressing in high heel shoes, panties, miniskirt and halter. This time I had a bra, a padded one, and it added to the effect.
I lent myself to every aspect of slavery thrust upon me. I kissed the shoes and boots of every girl. Some of them rose me about, and I took it in good nature, trying my hardest and reacting to the hands that alternately stroked and spanked my smooth panty clad bottom.
"Almost a shame to whip him, Melinda commented when she hung me up for a beating, "he looks so damn much like a girl now."
She tenderly teased my ass. She had stripped me except for my stockings, shoes, wig, and bra. Hanging by my wrists, that black Amazonian bitch playing grabass with me and grabtit with my falsies, I felt increasingly feminine. The screams I greeted the whip with were girlish squeals of pain. I was all the way gone now, and would never go back.
I was trained each day by Mickie in the aspects of impersonating a lady and serving as a domineering woman's maid. I served Vanavia and Yvonne and Melinda and all of the others. I drew their baths and cleaned their bodies, prepared the food, helped to clean their asses after they used the toilet, dressed and undressed them.
I would kneel quivering at Vanavia's feet. She would imperiously point out the nylons she wished me to place upon her magnificent legs. I would get them on the double and begin. She was seldom pleased with my efforts, no matter how competent they were and her whip continually slashed my tender bare shoulders to give tangible form to her discontent. I kissed her ten toes one by one, the toes I had already carefully manicured and tended, the toenails still glistening with the shine of fresh nail polish. I caressed the stocking up those magnificent tanned legs, taking those liberties which were expected, being careful not to cross over the line that would earn me harsh discipline.
I kissed the hairy triangle between her thighs, caressing the puffs of her cunt lips with my tongue. She nodded her approval coldly and I continued. Her panties were next if she wished to be fully dressed, often black leather panties of a thrilling softness and smoothness of texture, exciting panties with the spicy fragrance of newly worked leather. I slowly worked them up her thighs, taking care not to damage the stockings, a serious offense.
"Not too bad today," she commented as I eased them into place, feeling the glorious curves of her bottom responding a bit to my touch.
"Now get me into my boots, the Spanish pair. Make it fast, cretin." A snap of her whip across my shoulder urged me on.
I enjoyed this most of all, the aiding of her legs into her boots which were invariably thigh high. They were tight and it took a considerable effort to ooze them up her legs without damaging those stockings. She never appreciated this of course, or pretended not to, and plied the whip freely to spur me on, hampering me in my delicate work.
Things went on in this way for a while, but the training of a transvestite is always an ever changing fanciful situation. They decided that my new role would be used professionally at last. I was selected to serve one of the couples in a chamber. They were not viewing a torture show, and had come for relatively straight pleasure.
They wanted a transvestite to play with and I was their boy. I was apprehensive and filled with terror when I entered their chamber. Sheer loathing gnawed at my guts. I was clad in my foremost finery, silvery high heeled shoes, long black nylon stockings fastening to my garter belt, thin, wispy transparent black panties, a miniskirt that barely covered them and a halter that was a small wisp of silk over my padded bra. My long golden wig flared and rippled in waves about my waist as I walked. I was well made up and quite a tempting sight.
I was ushered into the apartment and left there with the two of them. I didn't know anything about them not that it mattered. The male was in his early thirties, an olive skinned handsome swarthy type with oily black hair and a cruel face under heavy black brows. The wife was a hard-faced but attractive blonde a few years younger. She had on a pair of black leather hot pants and a completely transparent blouse showing off her fine set of tits underneath it.
"What's your name, little girl?" The man queried in a sneering tone, contempt for me showing in his appraising eyes. He looked pretty dangerous and vicious as he sipped his wine and waited for my reply.
"F-Frank," I managed to blurt out. I hung my head low in humiliation.
"Don't be shy, little girl," he taunted me. "No reason for a pretty thing like you to blush. Frank is a man's name however, so I'll call you Francine, sounds much better than Frank."
His wife laughed. It was a cruel laughter, the type I had become so very experienced with in those terrible months.
"Come over here Francine, don't hang back in shyness. Here, have some wine with us, it's quite good. I highly recommend it."
I pranced across the room in my woman walk and took the offered cup, meekness and daintiness in every gesture as I had been trained. He ran his hand up my leg, touching the bare skin above my stockings below the edge of my panties. It made my flesh run cold with shivers.
"Come over here beside me, Francine," his wife commanded. "Let's have a little girl talk, just the two of us."
I lay down beside her. She felt me everywhere, testing the texture of the skin of my ass. She rolled me onto my belly and delivered a hearty crack across my butt with her hand.
"Very soft skin," she commented.
My panties were dropped down to my ankles. I lay there in misery with my ass exposed dressed like a girl, her hands fanning out over the expanse of my bottom and delivering cruel hard smacks to the tender flesh. She ran her hands through my thick strands of wig hair and nibbled the lobes of my ears.
I couldn't help being turned on by her. Her husband came over and joined us. They ran their hands all over me together, teaming up to drive me wild.
"Would you like to have a real good look at my wife, Francine," he asked me. Of course I wanted a look at her, I was hot as a pistol.
"Francine wants you to show her your stuff, Janet. Get up off your derriere and put on a show for her."
Of course I didn't know about the two of them, and was unprepared for what came next. Janet got up and began to slowly strip off her clothes. She started with the see-through thing she wore on top. She stood there after removing it and played with her tits, palming them and lifting the tips, letting them bounce. She came close and let me touch them. I almost felt like my old self for a moment and had a mad impulse to knock this creep cold and mount his old lady. But my training and sense of caution instantly removed this mad thought from my mind.
"Do you like that, Francine?" he asked me, breathing harshly in my ear as he clutched at my false tits.
"Very much," I replied in falsetto voice.
"Show him your ass next, baby."
The hot pants went down her ass inch by inch. There was nothing under them. It was a beautiful ass enhanced by the tracks of the whip across it. It looked like he used a tawnse, a knout, and maybe a cat on her. He reached out and touched the heavily marked skin.
She danced around, belly socking and swaying on her high heels.
"Now show the lady your pussy, baby. Would you like to see a truly unique cunt, Francine?"
I nodded eagerly."
"Turn around baby."
Janet spun around quite suddenly and showed me her cunt. I almost fell off the bed. It wasn't a cunt, it was a complete natural set of tools, cock and balls. Janet was a fake, a man. A transvestite like me, except a more complete job, with shape and tits and the works. A soft cuddly doll with cock and balls.
"Janet was trained as a TV by her parents from earliest childhood. Those knockers you admire so much are the results of hormone shots plus surgical implants of silicone. You could maybe develop a half decent set of boobs, but nothing like those, it's too damn late in the day for that. Would you want a real set of your own, though?"
He played with my rubber tits. Janet bounded over to join in. She-he moved that superb artificial yet real body against mine, knockers mashing into my foam rubber boobs. Our mouths met and molded together, tongues entwined, hands mutually busy groping and exploring. The hair was also real and I ran my hands through its rich thick softness, its finely spun golden texture. Janet's saliva filled my mouth. Her laughing husband felt up both our rear ends. He started to spank us. I felt a sharp twinge of anguish as for a moment I saw what I had become, a little transvestite pansy with my soft butt upraised for any punishing hand that wanted to belabor it. I had really fallen low, all the way.
The bastard spanked our tails off, Janet tittering and giggling all through it and laying with me, reaching across to put her hands on my warming rear end.
After the spanking Janet got cuddly with me. Our cocks rubbed together as we played about. Janet took my cock in her mouth and began to suck it, taking long deep pulls at it. My cock throbbed with its animal heat in her mouth, the head all filled out, huge and mallet hard, getting ready to explode. My stockings were down to my ankles and my blouse and skirt had been removed. The greasy bastard played with my inflated boobs while his male wife sucked my dick. It felt good. I was actually getting a charge from having my false boobs toyed with, it was all in the head but felt great. Janet ran her sharp nails in gentle fanning movements along the perimeter of my ass cheeks.
"Nice cakes you have," her husband commented. I felt another twinge of remorse, cakes was a term usually used by gay types.
"Keep sucking, Janet, it looks like he's ready to come. Sock it to him, my dirty little girl."
I came and hot, hot spurts shot into her mouth. She kept on sucking until I had gone limp ignoring the cream load shot down her throat, prolonging and building the afterglow inside my tool.
That had been good, but now it was my turn to turn them on. I hesitated of course, but a few hard slaps across my face soon reminded me of what the situation was. I obeyed. I took his hard stiff thing into my mouth, just the head at first, grinding away at it, using my teeth a little bit, starting the motor going inside him. His erection built up hard as wood, his gun was soon ready to shoot. I took some more of it in, with less reluctance I have to admit, as Janet's clever hands worked on me with a maddening teasing action. Her husband's tool showed that telltail inner stress and recoil signifying the build up of the load and the readying of the ammunition for the cannon to fire. It came into my mouth, filling it with a heavy thick fluid, all clotty and thick threaded, a ripe white color as I let it run down my chin, down my throat, letting my mouth empty out. Janet went for my throat, sucking away at the seed spilling from my mouth, lapping it up, cleaning my mouth and face and throat, eating up the thick sticky clots of come. Her laughing bastard husband roared with wild sadistic mirth.
After that it was Janet's turn, and then things built up and continued for many hours. The whips were brought out later, much to my regret. I could not get away from them. When this session finally ended I was quite subdued and ground down. My subservience had become abject, and there was nothing faked about it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Linda wanted to be part of the last phase of her husband's bondage slave training, to be there firsthand. She wanted to witness his changing subservient personality emerge.
The man she found when she arrived at The Pleasure Dome fitted perfectly the new life she had planned for him. At first she really did mistake him for one of the girls until she saw the eyes full of subservience and defeat that she recognized, flashing back to the past and remembering them full of fire and spirit, thinking of the way he had lambasted and smacked her ass, spanking and whipping her bum to a crimson jelly.
"Hello darling, let me look at you. Man, you are really something in that get-up. Turn around and let me see the back."
Frank's outfit consisted of micro short hot pants, long tapering rubber boots, and a thin whispy piece of gauze that barely hid his foam rubber tits. The wig was gone, his own hair had grown long enough to be molded into a creation, it piled upon his head in curls and swirls, and locks fell across his forehead. His ears had been pierced and earings with tiny tinkling bells had been inserted. His movements were feminine without a trace of impersonation, he could pass for the real thing.
"Oh, you are really exquisite, Frank baby. I can't wait to show you off to my friends."
"Everybody calls your boy Francine around here," bellowed Yvonne, who came running up naked to kiss her friend.
They embraced passionately and Linda ran her hands over the bleeding fresh welts on Yvonne's bottom.
"I see Madame still gives you your share now and again. But thanks for telling me about Frank's new name. Francine is more apt when he's like this. A few months ago he never would have believed he could look like this."
"Put him through his paces, baby."
"Sure, why not." Linda turned haughtily toward Frank who stood meekly by with his eyes downcast.
"Kneel before me, Francine." The order was complied with. Linda felt a mounting excitement. "Kiss my feet, slave. Every inch of the shoes. Then show your worship for me by kissing my pussy."
Frank obediently kissed his wife's leather shoes, using his full tongue to lick every inch clean, even the soles. The task filled his mouth with a queasy, sick taste. He would never adjust himself to the task of shoe licking. Then he raised his sights toward a more taste-tempting target. His wife wore no panties as was her custom. He dipped his tongue into the hotbox through the puffy lipped slit, the hairs of her pussy locks tickling his face. He kissed and licked, and wondered at the fresh whip tracks on Linda's ass, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the sight of them knowing all the time that such pleasures would not be his to inflict on her.
Linda pushed against his chest with her foot to make him desist. She did not want to come just yet.
"What have you done with my friend, Barbara?"
"Some friend you are to her, putting her in here. She's being whipped on the wheel. Come along with me, if you want to see her."
Yvonne whipped Frank's ass as he was forced to walk before them. His hot pants hardly covered his strategic areas. His bottom was soon streaked with whip marks, a few drops of blood breaking the surface of his skin. Linda could hardly get over how beautiful he was, and kept petting and stroking him. He was not a girl but a reasonable facsimile in any case. His beard had been removed and this added to the impression.
Barbara was found in dire straits pleasing to the vindictive Linda. Her betrayed friend had been bound to a great turning wheel that plunged the screaming girl into a large pool of icy water every time it made a revolution. It was in actual fact a waterwheel, somewhat reduced in size, and Barbara was its struggling victim. She made a continuous clanking sound as she struggled against the confinement of her chains, a sound pleasing to the ear. Melinda was the fiend torturing Barbara, she added constantly to the girl's quota of agony by thrusting pins into her breasts as she rose up headfirst out of the water. The wheel had been in motion for a long time and the girl's breasts had been turned into pincushions.
"Frank might enjoy a taste of that wheel," Yvonne cooed. She rubbed her ass into the front of Frank's hot pants, trying to provoke an ejaculation as was her custom.
"That would spoil his lovely makeup," Linda answered. She slapped her friend across the hip." Stop grinding at Francine already and let's go. I've seen enough of this, your wheel is a bore. You're losing your imagination around here."
Frank would not have agreed with that remark, the things they could conceive were quite imaginative.
"Come on, let's go pay respects to Madame. She has someone you might be interested in. It's our number one TV, Mickie. He had a major hand in the more knowledgeable aspects of your husband's TV training, I provided the muscle of course."
In Madame's luxurious office Linda was introduced to the delectable TV, Mickie. She examined the boy greedily, lifting up his skirt to inspect his cock and balls. She pinched his ass and was amazed by its smooth softness.
"Very good, a hell of a lot more of a lady than Francine here, would this one be for sale?"
"You know that we can't sell any of our guests, Linda. This one has a master already. Do you want to see this delectable creature go through his routine?"
Mickie crawled around the room on all fours wiggling his bottom. He kissed the feet and hands of the ladies, and then began to service them. One by one he knelt before them, head buried under skirts, sucking sounds emanating. Their faces went pink and flushed and the hard breathing indicated the success he achieved with each of them. His lips were flexed with the dried liquids of the hot and juicy cunts he sucked at.
"Oh man, he is good," Linda sighed, as he worked at her hot box. "He is a lot better than Francine."
Linda lifted the boy to his feet and kissed the mouth reeking of the pleasant taste of crotch. The boy had a mouth like a girl and kissed the way a girl did. Linda put her tongue into his mouth, slurping up the taste of cunt.
"Over my lap," Madame Vanavia snapped at him.
Mickie hastened to obey. He lay down on Madame's lap wiggling his panties at her. Madame Vanavia dropped the garment to reveal his ripe round white bottom. She picked up a heavy thick oak paddle. Mickie pumped his bottom up and down in anticipation. Madame Vanavia put her hand to his mouth and ordered him to kiss it. The TV slave obeyed her readily.
"This little lady really loves to have it socked to her. Don't you, little girl?" Yvonne asked.
"Oh yes, I love to be punished and to dress as a girl," Mickie replied.
Madame Vanavia brought the paddle down with a loud crump on the soft tender meat. Mickie lunged spasmodically as his left buttock instantly turned red under the impact. Another blow colored its right hand mate. Madame Vanavia began to spank him harder and harder, delivering the blows with a measured egularity.
Linda felt herself going hot all over, beginning to fetch off watching Mickie's ass being battered. She wanted a piece of Frank.
"Come here, Francine," she ordered imperiously.
Frank knelt at her feet He kissed the extended foot meekly. Linda ordered him to stand up in front of her, bending over. Linda dropped her husband's panties and explored his bottom. She held the cheeks apart and probed the tight enclosure of his anus with her nails. He flinched visibly under her touch. This pleased her. She had plans in store for him.
"Yvonne, bring me a big dong. I need one at least two inches thick."
Frank shuddered. He knew what she had in store for him.
Yvonne cupped him under the chin and kissed him lightly on the forehead. She delivered half a dozen ringing cracks to his ass and shoved the dong she had secured under his nose for his inspection.
"You're about to receive another artful penetration, Francine," she assured him, gloating at his helplessness.
Linda held his ass cheeks wide and Yvonne prodded the closed doors with the rubber implement. Frank jumped reflexively as she began to force it into him.
Yvonne punched him in the mouth, knocking a line of blood loose from the corner of his mouth.
"Hold still, goddam you. Linda, get some rope on this bastard."
The two women bound Frank tightly, stripping his torso down to his padded bra. The ropes dug deep into his hurting flesh and gouged into the foam rubber tits. Yvonne squeezed them, wishing they had been real so that he could feel pain. They threw him down on the sofa on his face and planted their weight on his back. He bucked and lunged but was totally helpless. Linda whipped his soft white behind with a strap, slicing raw broad grooves into his butt.
Madame watched the activities with keen excitement continuing to batter her own victim. Each successive blow further reddened the swelling crimson slabs of the transvestite's ass. Madame grabbed his breasts and twisted the nipples, turning the tips in her hand, causing the flinching agonized boy to scream and scream again. Madame began to laugh in a fit of sadistic pain lust, reveling in her power to hurt and dominate.
All of them were now obsessed with the urge to inflict pain and the original intentions had been forgotten. Linda and Yvonne worked brutally on Frank, and shoved the oversize rubber cock up the narrow passage of his asshole. They squeezed and oozed it up the too narrow passage, ignoring his maddened screams, intent on forcing it all of the way in. It was too large and ungreased, but it did move into the pathetic man, inch by inch. Yvonne pounded the base of it with her fist, and forced it to plow in a whole two inches with one massive blow. Linda grabbed Frank's asscheeks and dug her hands into them, trying to force the aperture closed as much as possible against the object rammed up it. Uncontrollable mucle spasms ran through his agonized bottom causing the cock up his ass to visibly vibrate. His anus was stretched to a limit not imagined by him but the two were not satisfied and continued to push and force it until its full length was buried in him.
"Move over on your back," Linda ordered him.
"Oh please, it hurts so much," he wailed, "get it out of me. I'll do anything you say if you remove it."
"You'll obey our orders anyway, you pathetic wretch, now get over on your back. Muy pronto."
The wretched slave followed her instructions. He looked a strange sight, his makeup streaked and ruined by tears and sweat, his girlish hair disheveled, the huge cock rammed up his ass with the end of it barely visible.
Linda mounted his face, grinding her wet pussy into his face, positioning it over his mouth. Frank's mouth was dried out and he dreaded sucking her now. But as usual he had no choice in the matter. He stuck his tongue into the juice brimming tunnel and licked the succulent cunt tissues that were hot and osorous and running with oil.
Yvonne grabbed the cock up his ass and worked it back and forth as best she could, there was little movement possible with the tightly wedged object. She whipped his ass with her other hand and also his back. She used the strap across his shoulders, inflicting long and wide crimson stripes on his flesh. She whipped him across his two buttocks causing bloody torn welts to appear as she continually whipped him on the same exact area over and over again. She gave him a series of fan shaped patterns across his back, then crisscrossing X's and then a flurry of blows across his shaven thighs, tearing his stockings to shreds. She continued to move the dong around as much as she could while whipping him cruelly, and the unfortunate could do nothing but continue to suck the hot cunt of his wife who was becoming more and more wildly excited due to the beating he was receiving. He licked every inch of the spicy crease skin between her cunt and anus, and pushed the tip of his tongue inside her rear entrance, moistening the dry, spice tasting rim inside the puckered mouth of her asshole. Yvonne continued mericlessly whipping him all the time.
"Get over there with your friend," Madame Vanavia ordered the sobbing Mickie, emphasizing her command with another blow across his swollen purple tail. His makeup had run in streaks of salty tears all over his face and his clothes had been torn off in small pieces. His breasts were bruised and the tips red and puffed from the torture inflicted by Madame's hands. His rump was oozing scarlet blood from a few half-healed whip welts broken by the paddling. Madame Vanavia had wearied of paddling his bottom and wanted some more amusing action.
Frank was ready to collapse. The rubber phallus rooting around up his butt was causing searing throbbing pains all through his lower body. His back, ass, and legs, were a mass of bleeding whip welts once more. Linda closed her thighs over his head, grinding him into his crotch, forcing the half fainting victim to continue applying his tongue to her body. She ruthlessly applied pressure with her strong legs, half crushing his skull.
Vanavia pulled Frank away from the two tormenters and slammed him against Mickie. She forced the two sobbing beaten wretches to embrace. Frank took the tip of Mickie's knocker into his mouth, biting into the battered nipple.
"That's it, you transvestite bastard, keep it up. I want some action." Vanavia emphasized her demands by smashing the two across their rumps with her paddle.
"Oh make them do things to each other," Linda begged. She shoved her fingers into Yvonne's pussy and the whip girl reciprocated. They frigged each other, biting tit and fingering hot pussy oil out while watching the two girlboys make love under Vanavia's proddings.
Mouths mashed together, tongues swirling and exchanging saliva they ground their crotches together. Frank flinched in pain as Mickie raked his bloody back with sharp nails, ripping scratches into his skin through the painful tracks left by the strap. The nails made the strap welts sting with a not altogether unpleasant searing sensation.
Vanavia selected a short leather whip and went to work on them again. They were spurred on to greater and more violent actions by the cruelly welded whip tearing into their backs. Vanavia concentrated on Mickie who had received less punishment than Frank. He was whipped all along the white curvacious column of his back, soon streaming scarlet lines down his back, along his ass, running down his legs he swayed and tottered and relied on Frank's strength to hold him on his feet. He continued to rub his tool into Frank's and to rub his tits across Frank's foam rubber front. Frank kneaded the well shaped knockers, lifting them up and palming them roughly, squeezing the soft tissues. They kissed away the streaks of tears running down their faces.
The two overheated guns began to shoot as they rubbed and scraped into each other. Hot shots of sperm stained bellies and crotches, ran down cocks and balls, mixed into one gooey clotting mass. The three women joined together into one orchestra inflicting pain upon the bleeding jiggling bottoms, pounding the four belabored buttocks with strap, paddle, and whip. They smashed the asses with a terrible crescendo of punishment, sending pumping spurts of blood shooting from tears and gashes as hot jumping snakes of sticky come blasted from the nozzles of their cocks. Their bloody asses bled from dozens of mouths torn open in the scarlet pudding mass of pulpy flesh. Yvonne whipped Mickie unconscious, blasting him off his feet with the power she put into the paddle she swung. Vanavia and Linda caused Frankie to follow in short order as their united efforts slammed him across the room, lifting his ass clear off the floor with the fury of their maniacal beating.
"What do we do to them next," asked Yvonne mopping her brow. It had taken long moments of deep frenzied breathing to regain the equilibrium to even speak coherently. Linda had gone into a daze of over stimulation and just stood there staring into nothingness still swinging that whip in her mind.
After a break to regain their energies the women revived the two unconscious transvestites and applied some hasty elementary nursing to their shattered bottoms. But they were determined to carry on with the torture. Linda procured a lipstick and began to write obscenities on Frank's chest. She wrote 'FUCK MY ASS RAW' in large block letters. She was pleased that such a thing could still cause him to flinch in shame. She wrote 'WHIP MY ASSHOLE' across his belly and 'FUCK' on his forehead. She wrote 'BLOW ME' on his face, blow on one side and me on the other. She added a red hyphen across his nose for the fun of it. She added more and more words, and her friends joined in. Vanavia wrote 'FUCK MY GODDAM ASSHOLE UNTIL IT BLEEDS' across his ass. Yvonne wrote 'I EAT SHIT AND SUCK COCK' on his back. For an added touch these messages on his back and ass were partially written in his blood. The very touch of fingers and lipstick on his aching skin caused him terrible suffering.
Linda proudly surveyed their artwork.
"Pretty damn good, but now we have to put it to use. If Frankie boy here enjoys being marked up with dirty words all over he had to live up to his own graffiti. Am I right, baby?" she asked, slapping him across his tear streaked face to provoke an answer from him.
"Of course you are right, mistress," he answered in a groveling tone.
"Let's take them both to the dormitory and let the boys take care of them in style," Vanavia ordered.
With peals of sadistic laughter ringing in their ears the two slaves were driven along the corridors whipped and beaten. Yvonne slapped their faces until blood ran from both noses.
All that had already happened to them was as nothing compared to the degradation in the dormitory. Yvonne playfully rubbed the lipstick off of Frank with a towel. She deliberately bore down on his whipped backside, causing the towel to be stained with liberal quantities of fresh blood as well as lipstick. Frank was showered off and then redressed in drag. Some of the guys slipped long nylons up his legs while others forced the humiliating padded bra onto his chest. Thin almost transparent panties followed, plus miniskirt and halter. He was pawed and groped throughout the dressing. Vanavia applied his makeup, deep eye shadow to mask his tears and rouge to put some color into his pallid cheeks. Lipstick and a careful primping of his wet mop of hair. He once more assumed his feminine appearance.
Mickie was likewise treated. His tits received a vicious barrage of fondling, twisting, and pulling. One big butch guy sank his teeth into the globes until they bled profusely. His soft bottom was continually cupped, groped, and blasted by hard calloused hands. He was squeezed into an undersize matching black lace panties and bra, stylish high black rubber boots, and a totally transparent negligee.
The two were then required to put on an obscene fashion parade, prancing around, groping and rubbing each other, dropping panties, reaching into bras and down the fronts of their undergarments. The herd of bully boys also felt the living hell out of them.
They were then required to go down the lineup of nearly twenty males, sucking each cock, licking every ball. Their mouths dripped come when they had finished this task. The hairy clefts of the three women were awaiting them at the end of the line. Frank was gagging and almost ill from the excess of oral activities he had been forced to indulge in. Hands kept socking it to his bottom. His panties were dropped down and a hard dick crammed into his ass. He sucked the cunt and ass his wife presented to him, and endured the suffering she heaped upon him. She spit into his mouth when he had finished.
The two battered males in drag lay in a battered insensible heap when all of this had finally ceased. Linda ran her nails over the nylon garbing Frank's thigh, the only part of his costume that was still intact, and laughed madly, over and over out of control.
Vanasia threw a pail of water on her to snap her out of it. The maddened girl sat on Frank's back, grinding her spike heels into the blood paste under his torn panties.
"Oh he really is just about ready for me. Can "I want him a week from now in TV drag. I in-
"Sure kid. Any more of this training and the dumb bastard will be all used up. How do you want him packaged?"
"I want him a week from now it TV. drag. I intend to keep him that way for a solid month. After that I'll go back to rubber."
CHAPTER NINE
A package arrived from The Pleasure Dome for Linda. The package contained a huge living doll, a thing of plastic, manikin. It was a special life-size doll with a very unusual core, within the skin of hard glossy plastic her husband Frank had been placed. Only the living eyes of the huge manikin moving fearfully about, darting in panicked terror here and there revealed the true nature of the object.
Linda delightfully set to with hammer and chisel cracking the plastic shell, releasing the meaty form inside it. Frank had been done up as a girl before he had been improsoned within the plastic model of himself. It was a diabolical device, a supreme bondage inducing a total panic with its unlimited confinement.
Frank's hair had been dyed a creamy shade of blond. His lipstick was pale pink, offsetting his pallid complexion from his long deprivation of the sun. He wore a pair of pink lacy panties and a matching bra well padded with a finely coned set of foam rubber goodies. His bulge of male sex parts had been confined within a sac of plastic that held it close in. The bush of hair upon the plastic crotch pad gave him the appearance of a cunt, increasing the illusion that he was a real woman.
Linda removed the strips of adhesive tape bound across Frank's mouth. He gagged and spit to clear the foul tastes clogging his dry mouth.
"You're all mine now, you bastard," Linda snarled. "Everything I order you to do you will do. You will obey my will. Kneel before me."
Frank was alone with her at last. His strength was superior. His moment had come if he still possessed the will and spirit for it. Something flickered in his eyes for a second, then was gone. Obediently and quite contrite he knelt before his mistress and ruler, pressing his mouth to the toe of her boot. Linda felt a surge of relief. Despite the assurances of Madame she knew that this had been a perilous moment, and it was only the subduing of his spirit that allowed her to reign over him. But a slave in mind is the only truly subjugated person.
So Frank and Linda began their new lives together. Linda eagle spread her husband on the floor of the basement to four ring bolts she had hammered into the cement. She then applied his makeup, an elaborate facial makeup with copious quantities of rouge and powder that gave him the appearance of some sort of circus clown. Linda spent hours sitting on his belly, chest and face, tickling and teasing him. She slapped his face, hit his ear lobes until they bled, kissed his mouth brutally, slapped him silly. She chewed his flesh, biting great mouthfuls of flesh on his thighs and chest, breaking the skin occasionally and causing him to bleed. His feet were especially sensitive to her tickling, and she twisted his toes and spread them wide apart, pulling them against the sockets until they were almost ready to break. She sat on his face and buried his nose in the cleft between her cheeks, rubbing it into the brown.
Frank slept that night tied to a pole suspended over the bed. His knees passed over the pole and his wrists were bound to it, causing him to hang rear down over the bed, a prey to the riding crop his wife welded lying languidly on her back contemplating his suffering. There was nothing he could do but finally collapse into a pained sleep.
She awakened him the next morning by dropping him on his ass from the pole. She roared with laughter as the brutal treatment awakened him from his deep sleep. He painfully hobbled onto the kitchen to prepare breakfast for his wife. The breakfast was unsatisfactory, the toast had been burned.
"You stupid ass motherfucker, can't you get anything right? Look at this damn toast, it's burned black. You'll pay for this you cretin."
"Please, I didn't mean it. I haven't cooked very much before. I promise I'll get it right next time."
Linda slapped him across the face to stop his sniveling apologies. She was interested in punishment, not in explanations.
"Bend over the table and get your ass up in the air. Drop your panties down first you idiot. How can I do anything to you with your panties on?"
The quavering TV dropped his panties.
Linda kicked him right in the gap between his ass slabs.
"Now hold it steady you bastard."
Linda took the dry burned slices of toast and cracked them into small pieces. She began to shove them up Frankie's ass. Frankie screamed and threshed about as the jagged hard bits of crumbly toast were wedged and shoved and crammed up his raw much abused butt opening. By the time Linda had finished the task Frankie had been reduced to a quivering sweaty mass of sniveling pulp.
Frankie went through the nightmare routine of the rest of that first day at home, getting into more and more trouble with every passing hour. Nothing he did came out right. His punishments continued all day, ever mounting in severity. He was kicked in the ass, ridden around the living room as a horse, forced to parade in undergarments with gravel in his high heeled shoes, forced to imitate famous movie queens under the promptings of a never still whip, beaten, slapped, strung up by his ankles, whipped, paddled, forced to lick his wife's ass clean, tied into a ball and rolled around the house for over an hour.
At the end of the day he painfully dragged his broken body up to his wife's feet, paying homage to them with his dry, swollen tongue. His mouth tasted brackish from the foul things he had eaten from the dog dish for his lunch.
"Congratulations, you haven't done too badly today. I'm going to a party this weekend and I'm taking you along. We'll see if any of your old acquaintances can recognize the new you. There should be a number of people we know at this thing."
That condition did not fill Frankie with any great joy. Many times his quavering fantasies had been turned to the reactions of friends and acquaintances to his new personality. He could imagine the mocking laughter.
He had the next day to rest up and recover his strength. Except for a few mild whippings he was almost left alone. He spent hours soaking his weary flesh in the comfort of a tub of water.
The party was a worse nightmare than he had imagined. There were few people who knew him, but that didn't really matter. His wife Linda went wild as usual in her 69 panties, jumping guys all over the place. She was instantly engulfed in a knotted mass of bodies enjoying a great groping sucking orgy.
Frankie dressed in high drag found himself the center of attention of a knot of people. A tall brunette with a love symbol tattooed between her long dangling tits, reached out to lift up his too short skirt and play with the tool pressed against his sheer panties.
"Let me give him a spanking to get things started," she suggested to the others. "Do you enjoy having your backside warmed, little baby girl?" she asked him mischievously.
Frankie nodded his head resignedly. A mass of groping hurting hands shoved and half carried him to a sofa.
He found himself across the girl's lap stripped below the waist. The feel of his cock across her hairy bush as he lay on her legs filled him with hot flashes. This wasn't so bad after all. He decided to relax into it and enjoy the compensations offered.
The girl spanked his bottom briskly. His ass turned baby pink, and then beet red as she increased the tempo and strength of her blows. The network of marks on his ass informed them all that he was a whipping addict, whether willing or not. The whip tracks stood out strongly on the canvas of his skin as the spanking pumped color into them.
"Sock it to him Valerie," a short bald man prompted her. "Get that piece of beef all warmed up for me, I'm going to eat it all up."
Valerie spanked him with her other hand. Frankie began to cry as the pain built up in him. A few of the others lent their help to Valerie, delivering sharp flurries of spanks to his quivering cheeks.
He was pulled to his feet. A man shoved hard against him, seizing and kneading the ass meat. His foul breath sickened Frank. The man pulled his belt off of his pants and brandished it threateningly.
"Give him a taste of this thing, Valerie baby," he suggested.
Valerie took the strap from him and began to whip it back and forth across Frank's ass cheeks, raising a fresh crop of broad scarlet streaked strap weals. Frank's tail danced about under the lashing as two men held him locked into position for his punishment. There was nothing he could do to escape it. Actually if his will had still been strong he only had to walk out of there. But he had been thoroughly reduced to slave status.
Linda was on a bed with two men sucking her cunt simultaneously. They buried their frantic faces between her thighs and sucked merrily away, tongues sliding together into her hot quim, experiencing a homo thrill as their mouths moved sloppily together, tongues mashed into each other.
Linda whipped their backs with a cat o'nine tails, slashing great spider web patterns of weals into the hard muscular flesh, covering the total expanse of their backs with the ugly welts. Her arm rose and fell, rose and fell. They were slavish types and tolerated her abuse, reveling in it. Linda thought that the world was filled with masochistic males. There was an ever new and fresh assortment of flavors for her to choose from. Could these two have been students of Vanavia?
Frankie was locked at that moment between two bodies. Valerie was giving him a butt end job the way Yvonne had often given it to him, standing in front of him with her ass against his cock, rubbing him off. A man was behind him with his cock buried to the hilt in Frank's asshole, fucking the shit out of him. Frank felt his tool go hard, then began to come as the man behind him shot off up Frank's ass.
After this Frank had to put on a fashion show for them. He was clad only in his bra and panties and his face was flushed with shame and degradation as the telltale stains on the front of his panties told that he had shot off recently. They did not allow him to clean himself off. A freaky looking man licked the come Frank had deposited on Valerie's ass off of that delicious platter.
As Frank paraded about his haunches were subjected to continual abuse. Straps and hands beat a tattoo on his long suffering bottom. His tormenters soon tired of this sport. Frank was once more thrown across Valerie's lap.
"Do you want another spanking from mama, baby boy," she cooed in his ear.
"Oh please, lady, no more. I'm so hot and hurt back there now that I couldn't bear another licking."
"Well, that doesn't sound quite truthful."
Her hand began to splatter him with ruthless force. "Let's just see if you can take any more."
Of course any ass can always endure a further allotment of punishment. Frank had his ass mercilessly spanked and strap whipped all over again fresh and screamed and bellowed at the top of his voice, but he endured it.
Linda raved about the party all of the way home. Frank only slumped in a ball of misery, his bottom a battered mass of scars, trying to keep as much pressure off his hindquarters as possible. His torn panties had "been stuffed into his mouth as a gag and his arms bound behind his back completing his helplessness.
After this the routine of their new lives gradually fell into a pattern. The aid of being independently wealthy eliminated many problems. For the next several weeks Frank endured life as a transvestite slave. When this period had passed he would be forced to undergo the even more unpleasant agonies of rubber slavery, so he was a loser all around.
Linda forced him to perform all of the chores, every bit of work she could conceive of. He received at least three whippings a day. Linda used a variety of implements on him, including the bullwhip, knout, and cat o'nine tails.
He was constantly in women's clothes. His costuming became more elaborate as the days went by, slips and half slips, girdles, corsets, long evening gowns. Hormone creams softened the texture of his face which had long since been rendered permanently beardless.
He swished and pranced and paraded. He endured spankings while imitating movie queens. His hair was constantly changed in styling, bobs, pileups, pageboys. He almost began to think of himself as a girl.
Linda moved another girlfriend into their lavish apartment. This girl, Helen Jarrish, was even more cruel than his wife, if such were possible. She smoked immense cigars and used Frank as an ashtray. She would lie back in her bath puffing it as Frank in a maid's costume tremblingly tended to the soaping of her breasts, knowing that the cigar might be applied to it at any time. Staring ahead absentmindedly, without even glancing at him, Helen would thrust the hot glowing end of the stogie into his hairless chest, perhaps running a path along his skin, or else twisting and turning it, putting a black mark into his skin. She would order him to bend over a table with his ass well raised into the air and would then burn his ass with the cigar. She sometimes seared her initials or Linda's initials into various parts of his anatomy.
She had a favorite ritual of humiliation that she would force the hapless transvestite to undergo.
"Who are you?" she would question him, snapping a whip around his waist.
"I am a girl." His reply would be accompanied by further whipping.
"What kind of a girl are you?" Another flurry of lashes.
"A pretty shitty one," he would reply, starting to hand job himself.
Fortunately for the poor wretch Helen did not stay very long, but took off one afternoon after first whipping Frank's ass into a bloody pudding. Frank was more than glad to see her go, he was not sure how much longer he could have lasted under her ferocity added to that of his wife.
One day after she had left Linda questioned him as to his preferences in torture. It was a difficult thing to answer, he was not allowed to reply that he didn't want any torture.
"I prefer bondage," he replied after a long consideration. He guessed that the torture he selected would be inflicted upon him and he had no stomach just then for a whipping.
"I expected that answer from you, you sniveling dog. You're just trying to get out of having your butt beaten off. Well, it won't do you the slightest bit of good, because you're going to take whatever I want to dish out to you. Yur preferences have no meaning at all."
"Won't I ever have any control over myself or my fate?" he blurted out in despair.
"A little bit. When I bring couples around to be subjugated I may let you work them over. But I will always be in charge. This will never change. You would be a total idiot to ever expect it to be different."
Linda hung Frank up by his feet, spread wide and locked by steel ankle shackles to a pulley arrangement. His evening gown hung down over his head. He threshed about with his arms that had not been bound. Linda jabbed her toe into his gut. "Hold still, you idiot."
Linda worked on the pulley arrangement, pulling wide the ropes that bound his legs apart. The arrangement increased the spread of his legs, his panties began to split down the middle, his genitals spilling out of the ripped fabric. Linda tore the rest of the panty material off and used it for a gag. She stuffed it into his protesting mouth.
"I'm not going to tie that in place, but if you spit it out or pull it out I'll give you something to really be sorry for, you idiot."
Linda shoved a rubber hose up his ass. His legs were spread by now in an extreme and agonizing split and it was easy to insert the tubing into him.
Linda used an air pump to fill his asshole with great spurts of hot air. The air enema sent spasms of belly ache pain ripping through his guts. He held his belly and wailed into his muffling gag. Linda drew out the tube and jammed a long thick cork into his ass, wedging it in and then hammering five inches into him to prevent the expulsion of the gases that were inside him.
Linda picked up a strap and began to whip him, slashing him across his belly, stirring the gases inside his gut into motion. Frank kicked and threshed madly. The gag was literally screamed out and his body swung about, his legs widespread, his asshole blocked, the swirling hot pockets of pain provoking air in his guts driving him mad. He desperately reached back with his free hands to get at the cork blocking off his back tunnel, but when he did this Linda belted him in the guts with her fists and the strap. As he jackknifed in agony, his torso rearing up well clear of the floor, Linda increased the split of his legs, sending sharp slashing waves of knife-like pains through his crotch.
Linda whipped his ass raw for the 11,000,000th time. She whipped his back, agitating the gas trapped inside him with every blow, causing his screams with the gag eschewed to rise in intensity, louder and louder.
She finally removed the plug from his rear after he had lost consciousness. He let out a great outrush of air that drove her out of the room. He hung there unconscious for hours.
He was useless to her for a long time after that. He had belly cramps that lasted for days. But he was forced to serve her by the next day despite his disability. Pity was an emotion alien to her character.
She grinned savagely as he caressed the stockings up her thighs serving her as maid, his face visibly contorted by his terrible cramps.
"How does it feel darling," she inquired innocently.
"It burns like fire.' It hurts terribly, and it keeps coming back in waves. Maybe you did something permanent to me. I think something like that could kill somebody."
"Nonsense," she replied. "But I do think you're right about one thing. That positively was the worst thing I ever did to you. If you're very obedient I won't try to top it. Think that over carefully."
Linda was almost gentle with him for several hours, helping him into his best outfits to parade about, testing new shades of lipstick on him. He was beginning to enjoy the role of a woman and they both knew it.
Several weeks later the couple once more went a-visiting to The Pleasure Dome. Melinda and Yvonne and the other girls greeted Linda with rough camaraderie. Frank received a welcoming barrage of spanks across his butt. The musclemen were allowed to greet him with elaborate wet kisses. Hands explored his rump and probed under the thigh length slit in his evening gown.
Madame Vanavia was delighted with the improvements in his female effect. The hormone creams and lotions rubbed daily into his facial skin had a softening effect on the texture.
"Is the effect permanent?" Melinda inquied. "I wouldn't want my man with skin soft as a baby's ass."
"No it's not. If I stop using it for a few months and give him some good strong sun lamp treatments for a while he'll be old leather cheeks again. But I think I may keep him this way for a long time."
The swishing transvestite that had once been dominant male chauvinist Frank was paraded through the school and introduced to the new arrivals. A young blond boy with girlish features was particularly terrified at meeting him.
"This could be done to you if you don't watch your step, smart ass," she informed him. "Frank was also a bad boy, and now take a look at him."
"I'm here as a customer," Linda informed Vanavia, "don't forget that. I want to see a show."
"Why not let Frank work out in it. He used to be pretty good. I wouldn't bet that he's entirely lost his taste for whipping female ass. Have you Frankie?"
Linda wanted Frankie watching the show with her. "Frank will take a rain check on this one. I want him in the booth with me."
The wine and the reefers had been laid out for them. Linda gave a joint to Frank. It was the first one he had been allowed a long time. He lit it and puffed. It tasted damn good.
On the stage a girl was being tied to the whipping post. It was Barbara. Linda chuckled at the sight of the friend she had betrayed into bondage slavery. Barbara's back was a roadmap of whip markings. She had been given a lot of treatments.
Melinda took up position behind the shackled girl. Barbara kicked at her and cursed vehemently. The ebony voluptuous beauty only laughed at her useless struggles and loud obscenities.
She picked up a long pair of hat pins. She plunged them without any preliminaries or time for Barbara to brace herself into the richest portions of the girl's ass. Barbara jumped into the air howling in pain. She wrapped her legs around the post and tried to climb it, screaming in pain. Melinda rammed another pair into Barbara's ass. Barbara fell off the post and dropped to her knees. She had plenty of slack in her long chains.
The torture continued. Linda's eyes began to light up. She gestured to Frankie. He took his place across her lap, his face a mask of resignation.
"Are you my good little girl," Linda asked, pulling his panties down. The spanking began. It fell upon well butchered meat. Frank shifted in agony, but the new position did not help of course.
Frank rubbed his stockings together, feeling tingles through his shaven thighs at the rustle of the fabric. He thought of the future. It would not be all that bad. There would be those subservient couples to dominate. He thought of the men and women cringing under his whip. He would always be Linda's slave, but he did have that one compensation coming to him. You had to take what life offered. A slave had to, anyway. It was the way of things. With a meek smile expressing the sincere depths of his enslavement to her he raised his bottom to the whip that Linda raised slowly above her head.