The man who sat beside me watched his luscious teenage niece being forced to go down on the pussy of a buxom brunette dominatrix.
The girl's name was Sally. She was young, in her very early teens, and her pink naked body had barely begun to ripen into womanly curves.
Sally's breasts were small and budding, with tiny pink nipples. Her thin-lipped pussy was hairless, but that was not because she was too young to grow a bush-what hair she had between her legs had been shaved clean.
That was what we did to all the little teen slave girls imprisoned in the Castle, shave their little pussies to make them feel younger and even more helpless.
Tina was the dominatrix. She was a full-grown, full-bodied woman with big breasts, fat nipples, a plump bottom, and a thick-lipped pussy which dripped with wetness.
Tina took hold of Sally's ears and pulled the kneeling girl's head between her legs. The teen captive's face was pressed against the adult's pussy.
The man beside me was Sally's uncle. Here at the Castle, we had trained the youngster into a sexually submissive slave, for his pleasure-and ours!
CHAPTER ONE
My name is Anthony Michaels. For years, I have been employed by the fabulously wealthy multi-millionaire, John Blairsford Lipton.
Mr. Lipton is a man of peculiar and perverse sexual tastes, as he would be the first to cheerfully admit. His libido is most complex.
Unlike the rest of us, Mr. Lipton has the money and the means to make his most bizarre sexual fantasies come alive in the flesh.
Indeed, Mr. Lipton did just exactly that. He remains sexually potent and virile even now, in his middle seventies, but is hardly as active as he used to be.
When his age prevented him from taking such an active part in his sexual deviations, Mr. Lipton found a new and exciting source of sexual gratification.
Many millionaires become philanthropists in later life, giving their cash donations to charities and the like-Mr. Lipton took a different course.
Like some fabled caliph out of the Arabian Nights, Mr. Lipton has devoted his recent years to making the sexual fantasies of others come to life.
This is where I enter the picture. As Mr. Lipton's agent, I help screen and select worthy candidates for this most unusual activity.
Not long ago, I sat in a small room with a man who was the latest recipient of Mr. Lipton's unique generosity.
This man's name was Oliver Gilman. He was a middle aged, middle class citizen, decent, law-abiding, hard working-a perfectly ordinary fellow.
Strangeness had entered his life with my arrival.
Like all the rest of us, Oliver Gilman was hardly so conventionally normal as he seemed from his outward appearance.
As Mr. Lipton's agent, I had arranged for Oliver's most secret sexual fantasy to come true. I was now seeing the successful conclusion of his case.
The two of us sat in a small, comfortable viewing room. Seated in well cushioned and padded armchairs, we faced a wall with a glass window.
This window was wide. Beginning at the waist-height of a standing man, it occupied the space of the wall, affording a view into the next room.
Oliver Gilman had a bony skull, with pale flesh slick from too many hours spent working under unnatural fluorescent lights in business offices.
Oliver was a bookkeeper-an arranger of other people's finances and money. His lifetime of hard work had failed to provide him with much material success.
He wore a baggy brown suit, a white shirt, dark tie, rumpled trousers, brown wingtip shoes. His eyes were watery behind the lenses of his steel-rimmed glasses.
The glass wall was made of an ingenious two-way glass. It was perfectly transparent on our side, permitting us to see into the next room.
On the opposite side of the glass, however, it appeared to be nothing more than a mirror, reflecting what happened in the next room.
The room itself was slightly larger than the one in which Oliver and I sat. The room had white walls, a cot, a toilet in the corner, a sink, and a chair or two.
The perceptive viewer would have noticed that attached to the cot were a variety of restraining straps, which were not in use at the present time.
Set in the center of the floor was an iron ring, bolted to the concrete.
Fastened to this iron ring was a long length of brightly glittering chain, with a cuff at its opposite end-a cuff which was locked around the ankle of a naked girl.
There was enough slack in the chain to permit the youngster to wander freely in the confines of the small, cell-like room.
The room was sealed with a stout metal door. A small square viewing panel was set at face-height in the door.
The girl was alone in the room. She was quite a pretty little thing. She was a very young teenage girl, a delicious nymphet.
Sally was her name. She now sat on the cot, with her feet on the floor. Of course, she did not have the slightest idea that Oliver and I watched her through the mirror on the wall of her cell.
She was a slim blonde with a round, juvenile face which was softened with its babyfat. She had wide brown eyes, an upturned nose, and a pink-lipped mouth.
She was quite naked, except for the iron cuff locked around her slender ankle. There was not a stitch of clothing in the room for her to wear.
For a girl of her tender age, she was most nubile, with a pair of high firm breasts with soft pink nipples. Her flesh was pale white and shining.
She had a trim little waist and soft hips and firm thighs. When she opened her legs, the cleft of her young pussy was clearly exposed.
Sally's pussy was thin-lipped, the labia colored a soft, dusky pink. When she was first brought to the Castle, her pussy was partially covered by a soft brown bush, but that had been shaved clean on the first night she arrived.
That had been some time ago-nearly six weeks.
When she was first kidnapped and brought here, Sally was a naughty little girl. Despite her youth, she was no virgin.
It took only a few days for the sadistically skilled matrons in Mr. Lipton's employ at the Castle to break Sally's rebellious spirit and will.
In the time since, she had been kept prisoner in her cell. The matrons had trained and transformed her into a submissive pleasure slave.
This had been done according to Oliver's request. He desired to have the girl transformed into a wanton pleasure slut free from inhibitions.
It was his fondest dream to possess the girl. He knew Sally quite well-she was his niece, the daughter of his sister.
His dreams would have remained only vague masturbatory fantasies, if the hand of John Blairsford Lipton had not reached into his life.
I was Mr. Lipton's agent. After convincing Oliver of the genuineness of the gift, and discovering his deepest desire, I helped make it come true.
Today was the day that he would take delivery of the girl. Throughout Sally's training regimen, he had observed every perversion and indignity suffered by the teen.
Sally now looked up, toward the door, alerted by the rattling of a key in the lock. The door swung open, and a woman entered the room.
This was Tina, one of the matrons on duty at the Castle, one of our newer recruits who had proven to have a special aptitude and lust for domination.
In point of fact, Tina had once worked as a professional dominatrix in a house of dominance, manhandling male slaves for fat fees.
That was where she was discovered and recruited for the Castle.
Tina Ormantly, or Mistress Tina, as she preferred to be called, had taken to her dominant duties at the Castle like a fish takes to water.
And why not? In the Castle, fantasy had become reality. This was the real thing, not an elaborate scenario play-acted by paying customers.
The girls and women--and men and boys, for that matter-who were imprisoned in the Castle were held prisoners against their will.
These captive slaves had been snatched out of their daily lives, stolen away, and locked in the impenetrable cells of the Castle.
This was no game for them. Their slavery was real and inescapable. They could not resist the sexual perversions and indignities performed on their flesh.
Young Sally was a classic case. Pain and humiliation at the hands of the matrons and masters had schooled her in strict obedience.
Now that Tina Ormantly had entered the cell, we would watch her put young Sally through her submissive paces.
Tina closed and locked the cell door behind her. Clipped to her wide black leather belt was a ring of keys which gave her entrance to most cells in the Castle.
Technically, she did not need to lock the cell door, since the chain fastened around Sally's ankle prevented that girl from going anywhere.
However, Mistress Tina was most thorough and efficient, and had locked the cell door strictly as a routine precaution.
Sitting next to me, Oliver leaned forward in his chair, licking his lips as he watched Tina go to young Sally, his degraded niece.
Tina was in her early thirties, a buxom brunette, large and powerful.
Her thick hair, black as coal, was pulled back into a bun, accenting the hard but handsome lines of her wide, cruel face.
She wore a uniform consisting of a long-sleeved blouse, a thick black leather belt, and a long flowing skirt which fell to her booted ankles.
While this skirt was seemingly modest at first glance, a closer examination proved that the very opposite was true-it was a sexually explicit garment.
This was due to the fact that the skirt was slit up the sides to the very tops of her thighs, thus affording a view of her lower body.
Tina was a woman of most impressive physical dimensions. Her breasts were lush and oversized, with a bustline measuring over 40 inches.
Her massive breasts pushed against the front of her blouse, straining the seams of the tight top. Her nipples were clearly outlined, and quite large.
Her middle was thick but not fat, with hips which widened into lush, alluring curves. The skirt was stretched taut across her plump buttocks.
From the knees down, her legs were covered with black leather boots, boots with sharp spiked heels and pointed toes.
Beneath the fabric of her uniform, her breasts bobbed and her buttocks jiggled as she crossed the floor the short distance to Sally.
Tina's leather punishment strap was fastened to a holder on the right side, on her belt. The strap dangled from it.
The strap was over two feet long, its knobbed handle made from braided black leather, and its long paddle section made of the same material.
As soon as she entered the room, Sally quickly hopped off the bed.
Sally knelt on the cool concrete floor. Her thin legs were folded under her. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to the concrete.
She crouched there submissively while Tina came to her. Tina sneered down at her. She planted her booted feet shoulder-width apart, resting her hands on her broad hips.
Her right hand covered a long and narrow object covered completely by a black leather pouch. She rubbed her foot against Sally's face.
The polished black leather rubbed the girl's smooth pink flesh. Sally pressed her puckered lips against the slick boot top, and began kissing it.
Tina smiled. Her face was dramatically made up, with high arching brows, wickedly curved; cold dark eyes widened by eye liner and shadow, and full lips painted with glossy red lipstick which glimmered like a coat of fresh blood.
Sally kissed the boots. Tina ordered her to lick them. Without hesitation, Sally parted her pink lips, extending her long pointed tongue.
Pressing the tongue to the leather, she licked long wet lines across the boot with the flat part of the tongue, polishing the boot.
Tina put the pointed toe of the boot in the girl's open mouth, wedging it inside, stretching the corners of the lips, forcing the girl to suck.
Beside me, Oliver leaned so far forward that I though he might fall out of his chair as he peered through the two-way glass at the scene of degradation.
After Sally had paid oral homage to Tina's leather boots, a lengthy process which left the polished black leather glimmering with sleek saliva, Tina ordered the girl to crawl to the cot and get up on it.
Red spots of color glowed in Sally's pale round cheeks as she crawled.
Sally's face was wet and shining with the saliva which had smeared on it while she had tongued Tina's boots.
Her lush nubile breasts dangled as she crawled, the sides of them slapping her arms. Her rounded buttocks rolled as she crawled.
Her chain rattled as she climbed up on the bed. I saw that Tina's nipples now loomed larger and harder than ever against the tight uniform.
Tina smirked down at the girl as she picked open the drawstrings of the pouch. When it was open, she pulled it free from the object it covered.
It was a dildo, long, thick, flesh colored, with a rounded and streamlined bullet-shaped head and a thick shaft.
This was a special dildo, with a vibrator built inside it. Tina parked her broad bottom on the bed, sitting down beside the youngster.
Oliver grunted like he had been punched in the stomach when he saw the vibrator dildo.
His eyes were wide behind his glasses' thick lenses.
Sally's eyes were wide, too. Tina reached out and felt Sally's breasts, kneading and squeezing the mounds, weighing them in her hands.
Tina performed this operation with the upmost familiarity, as though it was the sort of thing she did every day-and indeed, she did.
Her fingers squeezed and stroked the girl's breasts. Tina flipped on a switch which was located at the base of the dildo.
A low electronic buzzing hummed in the room, the sound of the vibrator inside the dildo. I must explain that a concealed audio pick-up, a "bug", enabled Oliver and myself to hear every sound inside the small cell.
Tina pressed the rounded dildo head against the girl's breasts, running it over them. The breasts rippled from the vibrator's high-speed humming.
Sally's bosom flesh yielded to the dildo as it pressed into the mounds, dimpling them. The rounded dildo head rolled over the breasts.
Sally moaned softly, her nipples stiffening under the stimulation of the vibrator. Tina leered when the tiny pink nipples became erect.
She lowered the humming vibrator dildo down the girl's body, rubbing it against Sally's taut tummy, pressing the dildo tip into the youngster's hollow navel.
Tina's nails were long, sharp, and polished with the same blood-red shade as the lipstick which glimmered so wetly on her wide mouth.
She took hold of one of Sally's nipples, pinching it cruelly between the nails of her thumb and index finger, digging them into the flesh.
Pain flickered across the girl's face. Her pink-lipped mouth formed into a wide moaning O as Tina viciously dug her nipples into the flesh.
But Sally had been well trained. Despite the obvious pain she suffered, she made no move to resist, or even to pull away from the torment.
Still gripping the nipple with one hand, Tina lowered the vibrator dildo down between the girl's thin legs, pushing the thighs open.
The instant that the dildo head pressed her pink and rounded thighs, Sally obediently opened her legs, spreading them wide apart.
Smirking, Tina guided the vibrator dildo between the girl's legs, pressing its humming head against the smooth-shaven lips of Sally's young pussy.
The delicate labia rippled and shook as the buzzing dildo massaged them.
Tina continued to pull Sally's nipple. The abused point of delicate and sensitive flesh was now raw and angry red from the cruel treatment.
She pulled it away from the pert mound of Sally's trembling breast, stretching the nipple out of shape, distending it.
Sally's wide suffering eyes moistened with tears, which spilled from the corners and slowly rolled down her quivering cheeks.
I glanced over at Oliver. Sweat poured from the shining flesh of his face. He was so aroused that I would not have been surprised if his glasses steamed up.
Looking down between his legs, there was no missing the tent-like bulge of his stiffly erect penis, thrusting against the crotch of his trousers.
Inside the cell, Sally moaned and whimpered as her nipples were maltreated, and her pussy lips were massaged with the vibrator dildo.
Tina released the girl's nipple. It was angry red, and stiffly swollen to twice the size of its unabused twin nipple on her other breast.
Sally's face was wet with tear tracks. Her chin trembled from her efforts to keep from crying. She shifted and squirmed on the cot.
Tina switched off the vibrator dildo. There was a sudden silence when the constant electronic humming ceased. She put the dildo aside.
Tina unclipped the leather strap from her belt. Sally moaned with the knowledge of the painful punishments to come, but she did not resist.
Tina stood up, ominously tapping the leather strap against the palm of her big strong hand. She held the strap across her wide thighs.
She reached up to caress her own breasts, breathing deeply, her nostrils flaring.
Tina pulled her blouse out of her belt and the top of her skirt. A leather thong was attached to the knobbed handle of the strap. She slipped the thong around the wrist of her right hand, where it dangled in place.
Tina hastily unbuttoned her blouse, took it off, folded it, set it aside.
Her massive bosom was supported by a black leather brassiere. The weight of her heavy breasts caused the support straps to cut deeply into her broad smooth shoulders.
The leather bra cups were stretched by her breasts, and the fat nipples thrust against them. The swelling breast tops jiggled as she breathed.
Reaching behind her, she unhooked the back of the bra, its strap coming open. She slipped the straps off he shoulders, down her arms.
Her lushly abundant breasts jiggled as they came free from the bra cups. There were grooves indented in her shoulders where the straps had pressed them.
Her nipples were over-large. Even in their unerect condition, they were the size of the first joint of her little finger.
Erect and throbbing, as the nipples were now, they were almost twice the size. The roseates surrounding the nipples were wider than silver dollars.
Tina cupped her breasts in her palms. Soft bosom flesh covered them, oozing over the edges of her hands as she tauntingly lifted her breasts.
They jiggled wildly as she released them. Taking up her leather strap, standing over cringing Sally, she rubbed the strap against the girl's flesh.
A shiver ran through Sally as Tina glided the smooth leather strap over the youngster's thin shoulders, mockingly caressing her.
The strap moved down, down to Sally's breasts, which Tina lifted and poked with the leather strap.
Tina ordered Sally to stretch out face down on the bed. Sally sniffled and choked off a sob as she obeyed. Her chain rattled as she moved.
The mattress was covered with a white plastic covering. This covering was standard issue for all cots in the slave cells, since it was easy to clean, and would not stain from blood, semen, saliva, or urine.
Sally's breasts were pressed flat against the cool and slick plastic covering on the mattress. She buried her face in her folded arms.
Tina spread her legs wide, taking up a stance over the girl. She lifted the leather strap high, her heavy breasts arching and lifting.
The strap whooshed through empty air on its quick descending arc, an arc which ended square across the center of Sally's cupcake buttocks.
The bottom cheeks rippled from the impact. Sally's cry of pain was drowned out by the crack of leather against her soft bottom flesh.
When Tina lifted the strap, there was a broad red mark stretching across Sally's buttocks, the mark of the first stroke of the strap.
This was only the beginning. Again and again Tina swung the strap down, slamming it into Sally's behind, swatting the girl's soft bottom.
Sally grunted with pain for the first few strokes. Under the influence of Tina's hard-hitting hand, Sally soon lost what little self-control she had, and began weeping loudly, crying in pain with each punishing new stroke.
More times than I bothered to count, the strap laid its sizzling strokes on the buttocks. Soon Sally writhed in pain on the bed.
Tina's eyes shone with sadistic delight as she tormented the young girl.
Further proof of young Sally's submissiveness and slave status could be seen in the fact that no matter how much she suffered, the girl made no attempt to resist Tina, or to protect her backside from those painful strapping swats.
Tina was most excited. As she whipped the girl with the strap clutched in her right hand, she moved her left hand inside her dress.
The skirt covered her from the waist down, but the slits in its sides provided easy access for her groping hand as it slipped inside.
Through the slits in the skirt I saw her legs, her strong plump thighs and her shapely calves which were covered by the polished black leather of the boots.
As she groped for her sex, the heavy black bush of her pubic hair was revealed, a triangle of tangled fur which reached halfway to her navel.
Her pussy lips were thick and full. She shivered as she touched herself between the legs, her fingers writhing over the pussy lips.
Color glowed in Tina's cheeks, and her eyes were glittering slits in her red sweating face. Stiff nipples throbbed at the tips of her jiggling breasts.
Sally's thin shoulders shook with loud sobbing, but Tina was inclined to show no mercy-in fact, the strapping became more severe when she began fondling herself.
Her skirt flared opened and closed as she continued the punishment, affording glimpses of Tina's legs, her white thighs and black boots and thick-lipped pussy.
Looking over at Oliver, I saw that he was unself-consciously fondling his stiff penis, squeezing and kneading the erection through his trousers.
From the small of her back to the tops of her thighs, Sally's bottom blazed bright red, with blisters and welts rising on the rounded globes of abused bottom flesh.
Tina set aside her strap. Sally lay stretched across the bed, sobbing brokenly. Tina hiked up her skirt, lifting it to her waist, bunching it up.
Her bush was a thick black triangle in the middle of wide white hips. Her pussy lips shone with secretions which her fondling fingers had rubbed on them.
Sally cried as Tina took hold of her hair, twisting it by the roots. Tina forced the whipped and weeping girl to turn over and lay on her back.
Sally's howl of pain as she put her weight on her abused backside brought a wide grin to Oliver's face. His hand rubbed his erection harder.
Tina's heavy breasts bobbed as she swung her long thick legs up on the bed. She straddled Sally's red sobbing face.
Tina folded her legs under her, so that her thighs bracketed Sally's upturned face on either side. Her wide bottom rested on the girl's chest.
Tina's pussy was held directly over Sally's mouth. I could imagine the rich, pungent aroma of female sexuality which rose up from Tina's pussy.
Tina leaned forward, grinding her crotch against Sally's face, which vanished from sight as it was covered by Tina's wide hips.
Tina pressed her wet pussy against Sally's mouth. The labia split and spread, smearing secretions on Sally's face.
CHAPTER TWO
Tina's face glowed with cruel lust. From the ecstatic expression which showed on her face, I could tell that Sally tongued her clitoris.
Sally had been schooled in slavery. Her first and most important lesson was that she existed only for the pleasure of her masters and mistresses.
When she first came here, she was a typically normal heterosexual girl, a naughty and flirtatious miss who was more than a little bit of a tease.
If she ever had had the impulse to make love to another female, she had never acted on it. The Castle matrons had changed all that.
No slave girl graduates from the Castle until she is skilled at giving pleasure with her mouth, and Sally was no exception to the rule.
She was young in years, hardly in her middle teens, but she was skilled in oral sexa skill which had been beaten into her until she mastered the techniques.
She was in pain, of course. Not only had she been severely and painfully strapped on her bare buttocks, but now all her weight, and the weight of Tina's heavy body, pressed down on the girl, forcing the heated and sore bottom flesh into the mattress.
One of Sally's legs dangled off the edge of the cot, the leg which was chained to the ring in the floor. Her body was tense, rigid.
Tina was a hefty, solidly built adult female. Her plump buttocks pressed down on Sally's naked chest, crushing her and leaving her breathless.
The girl's tear-stained face was pressed by Tina's thick, strong thighs, and by the polished leather boots covering her legs below the knees.
Tina's folded legs held the girl's head in place. She leaned forward, rocking her hips, grinding her pussy against the girl's mouth.
Here was where discipline and strict training proved their worth. Despite her sufferings, young Sally applied herself to Tina's pleasure.
Sally knew that failure to obey would result in stricter and much more painful and bizarre torments being inflicted on her body.
Her tongue was pressed to Tina's clitoris, licking and lapping, polishing the throbbing button of flesh, firing Tina's already heated lust.
Tina's breasts bobbed and jiggled from her thrusting movements as she ground her dripping wet pussy against Sally's mouth.
As she raped Sally's mouth with her pussy, Tina fondled her own breasts. She held them, clutching the massive fleshy mounds one in each hand.
As she squeezed her breasts, soft bosom flesh oozed through the spaces in her gripping fingers, the hard nipples jutting from between them.
Tina opened and closed her fingers, squeezing the stiff nipples. Her movements became more forceful and rough as her passions mounted.
The hoarse rasping sound of Tina gasping for breath mingled in the viewing room with Oliver's own moaning gasps as he fondled his erection.
His hand worked in his lap, stroking and squeezing the stiff erection which thrust demandingly against the front of his trousers.
Tina rocked faster and faster. Her bush dripped with Sally's saliva.
Tina climaxed. She groaned from deep in the pit of her stomach. Her mouth was open and moaning. She shook as the orgasm rushed through her.
Once more Tina ground her pussy hard against Sally's face. She squeezed her thighs tightly against the girl's head which was trapped between them.
Sally's nostrils and mouth were filled with wet, slippery pussy membranes as Tina sat on her face, momentarily smothering her.
Sally had been a slave long enough to expect something on this order, so she gulped for air when Tina's climax came, and held her breath.
Tina moaned. Her masses of soft flesh jiggled and rippled. Her body shook like a wet dog throwing off water, and sweat flew off her in fat drops.
Her body was rigid when she orgasmed. As the force of the orgasm left her, she gave a final wrenching shudder before her big body sagged with relief.
Her head tilted so that her chin rested on her heaving chest. Her bosom jiggled as she panted for breath. Sighing, she climbed off Sally's face.
Sally gasped for air. Her face was bright red from holding her breath while Tina covered her nose and mouth with the wet pussy flesh.
From the hairline at the top of her forehead, to the tip of her trembling little chin, Sally's face was shining with sweat and Tina's pussy secretions.
Tina swung her booted feet to the floor. Her thick thighs fell open, showing that her bush was frothy with saliva, and her pussy lips were wet and quivering.
Tina sat on the bed's edge, savoring the afterglow rising up from her pleasured pussy. Her eyes were glazed, and she sighed deeply, her breasts bobbing.
There was a grunt to the left of me. Oliver shook in his chair like he was being electrocuted. Convulsively he squeezed his member.
I knew that he had masturbated himself to orgasm while watching the show of domination and degradation.
I had other duties to attend to, and this looked like an oppurtunity for me to excuse myself and see to other slaves in the Castle.
As soon as Oliver had caught his breath and stopped shaking from his orgasm, I excused myself, saying I would give him the chance to rest and recover.
I pointed out the bell which would summon a matron, should he require anything. I suggested that he relax and refresh himself.
When I returned, I would supervise the meeting between him and his niece, which would certainly be something to see.
As I left the room, Oliver mopped his sweating forehead with a damp handkerchief. He leaned forward to peer through the glass wall.
Sally lay curled on her side on the mattress,. taking as much weight as possible off her strapped and sore behind. Tina relaxed.
Making sure that Oliver would be well taken care of, I exited the room into the hall. Locked cell doors stretched out on either side.
Inside the cells were a variety of slaves, males and females, boys and girls, men and women. I did not stop to examine them at this time.
At the far end of the hall, a matron named Hope sat in a chair behind a desk, reading a true detective magazine.
This was Hope, a middle aged woman built like a female wrestler, which she had indeed been years ago, before being hired for the Castle.
Hope made Tina look thin. Hope weighed close to 250 pounds. She was a living mountain of female flesh, awesome in her impressive dimensions.
She looked up from her magazine when she saw me coming down the hall.
Hope wore the standard uniform issued to all the matrons, a uniform identical to the one Tina had worn, consisting of a blouse, belt, skirt, and boots.
Hope was in her middle forties. Her face was round, moon shaped. She had beady glittering eyes twinkling in the fat folds of her fleshy face.
She had a broad meatball nose and thin lips and shaking jowls. Her mouse brown hair was short and stiff with the hair spray saturating it.
Her dimensions were most impressive. Although all the matrons are large women, Hope was easily the largest of them all.
While a variety of extra-large uniforms were kept on hand, her uniforms had to be specially tailored and custom-made.
Her breasts were mammoth. Each one seemed as large as my head, although that might have been an exaggeration caused by her overall massiveness.
She was corseted in a special foundation garment, but despite its wired and reinforced support, her breasts were heavy and sagging slightly.
The nipples pressing against the straining fabric of the blouse looked as though they were the size of thumbs as they jutted from her breasts.
Hope carried no leather strap. It was her boast that a spanking from her hand was as painful as any beating a strap or paddle could deliver.
The boast was true, and many were the slave girls who had been reduced to sobbing obedience after a spanking session at her hands.
I passed the time of day with her, and exchanged pleasant greetings. I told her that I intended to go down to the basement dungeon to check on a few cases.
I asked her where Molly was. She informed me that Molly was just finishing a punishment session with a young boy who was being trained as a toilet slave.
That was a most interesting case. The boy was the son of a young woman who had died giving birth to him. He was being raised by his grandmother.
The embittered grandmother resented the boy for her daughter's death, and desired to punish him accordingly, with an emphasis on degradation.
Her desires would have remained in the real of fantasy if the agents of John Blairsford Lipton hadn't sought her out and selected her.
Now, that grandmother's wishes were being made a reality. The boy was imprisoned in a cell, and would remain at the Castle until his enslavement was a fact.
Hope said that she would check to see if Molly had finished. I said that I had no intention of interrupting any session, and would wait for her to complete it.
Hope checked the clock on her desk and said that Molly was scheduled to complete the session a few moments ago. Hope buzzed her on the intercom.
Sure enough, Molly had finished the session. A few moments later, she came down the hall to meet me, her long legs taking bold strides.
Molly Kreel was the headmistress and dominatrix-in-chief of the Castle.
She was a tall woman, 40, of Amazonian proportions. In her bare feet, she stood only an inch or two less than six feet tall. In her high heeled boots, she was taller than that, and indeed towered over me.
Molly was Irish, with red hair, green eyes, ripe red lips, and a creamy and flawless complexion. Her body was stunningly voluptuous.
Over ten years ago, Molly had been a showgirl in revues in Las Vegas. She had the height, the good looks, and the big breasts and long legs required for such a job. In the decade since then, she had put on a good deal of weight, but was solid, not fat.
Her impressive physique was curved in the classic hourglass figure, abundantly voluptuous, rippling with dominant power.
Her hair was dark red, like fire. Its long tresses, which reached past the middle of her broad back when free and unbound, was now wrapped in a single fat braid which was curled into a prim bun at the top of her head.
Her breathtaking body was offset by the stern lines of her face. Her cold expression was haughty and superior, and quite intimidating.
Her eyes were cold green, like the sea on a winter's day. Her nose was slightly upturned, and her strawberry lips, which were side and sensual, were usually compressed in a thin tight line.
She wore the standard uniform of a matron, with a few extras to designate her superior status in the hierarchy of the Castle.
Her shoulders were broad. Molly was a female body builder, and regularly worked out lifting weights in the gym which was part of the Castle.
Her arms were as strong as those of the average man-stronger, in fact. Her biceps bulged, and the muscles of the arms were sharply defined.
Thanks to the top condition in which she kept her body, her breasts were high and firm despite their abundant endowment of bosom flesh.
Her bustline was a size 42-DD, giving her a pair of fleshy mounds which were the size and shape of globes, round and full as grapefruits.
She wore a bra, of course, but her breasts bounced and jiggled inside her blouse as she came down the hall to meet me.
Attached to her wide leather belt was a strap, a pair of handcuffs, and a key ring which admitted her to any and room of the Castle, with no restrictions.
Her lush breasts strained against the blouse, and the buttons running down the front of the blouse looked in danger of popping off if she took a deep breath.
Her belly was rounded. Her hips flared out into wide, womanly hips. Her rounded buttocks twitched as she walked, rolling from side to side under her skirt.
Fastened to her boots was a pair of silver spurs, a special sign of her authority, a gift from Mr. Lipton, who was so very pleased by her fine service.
The key to selecting the proper personnel in such a place as the Castle was motivation. Molly had more than enough motivation.
When she was a showgirl, she often had to sleep with managers of clubs, agents, and others in order to get and keep her job.
She was filled with resentment and a burning age to dominate men and women alike-an urge which now was given full and free expression in the Castle, whose cells were kept freshly stocked with male and female slaves.
Her silver spurs jingled as she crossed the floor to meet me. We exchanged greetings. She shook my hand like a man, with a man's strength and more.
Hope asked Molly how the toilet training of Larry was proceeding. Larry was the young man whose degradation was his grandmother's fondest desire.
"Oh, he's coming along just famously," Molly said. "He's already a confirmed piss-drinker, and just guzzles my golden showers. I'm ready to move his training program to include solid waste very shortly."
"I'd like to see that!" Hope chortled, her jowls rippling with laughter.
"I'm sure that you will," Molly said. "In fact, you can be a big help to me in his training. But we'll discuss that later."
Hope's small dark eyes glittered with the eager expectation of dominating and crushingly humiliating the captive boy.
Molly turned to face me, and asked what I required. I told her that I would like to check up on certain cases, to see how they were progressing.
"Fine," Molly said. "Where would you like to start first?"
"I'd like to see how Rachel is coming along," I said. "Mr. Lipton has taken quite an interest in the case of her and her husband."
"So have I." Molly's red lips pulled back, flashing a double row of white even teeth in a cruel smile. "As a matter-of-fact, you've come at just the right time. I've been softening the bitch up all afternoon."
Hope pressed the electronic button which unlocked the dungeon door. There was a loud buzzing, then a metallic click as the lock opened.
The metal door set in the wall was similar to the bulkhead doors between compartments in ships. Molly opened the door.
Below it was a spiral stone staircase, a remnant of the original structure of the Castle, which was over two hundred years old.
Of course, the above-ground levels of the Castle had been totally redone and restored when Mr. Lipton bought the piece of property years ago.
The dungeon was kept dim and dark, adding to its sinister nature. A damp smell rose up from its dark depths. Molly started down the stairs.
Behind us, Hope closed the door, which automatically sealed shut, locking again.
Lights, soft and dim, were installed inside recesses set along the stairs. Molly looked more massive and imposing than ever, thanks to the heavy shadows.
The leather soles of her boots scuffed on the stone stairs as she made her way down the spiral staircase, to the dungeon depths below.
The dungeon was deep indeed, and sunken well into the ground. During the Revolutionary War, the site of the Castle had been occupied by a military fort.
What now served as the dungeon had been the armory, where ammunition was stored. Green slime clung to the porous stone.
As we approached the dungeon floor at the foot of the staircase, I heard the sounds of a moaning young woman, and the rattling of chains.
Now we were in the dungeon. Its arched ceiling was lost in the gloom. There were a series of galleries, and we were in the first.
"There she is." Molly pointed to the naked slave chained to the wall. 'That's Rachel, getting her latest lesson in slave training."
A beautiful young woman writhed in torment. She was standing up and chained to the wall, with her back turned to us.
She was in her early twenties. Her hair was like shadow, so dark and black was it, and it fell down her back in long shimmering waves.
This female was lean and lithe, slender, with high firm breasts, a long elegant back, a narrow waist, rounded lush bottom, and long legs.
Her arms were chained over her head, with iron cuffs locked tightly around her slender wrists. Her legs were spread, and her feet planted wide apart.
She heard us, and twisted her head, looking over her shoulder at Molly and me.
The girl had a hawk-like profile, with dark brows, a sharp nose which was quite strikingly attractive, high cheekbones, sunken cheeks, and a wide-lipped mouth which moaned from the pain of her bondage.
As Molly and I neared Rachel, I could better see and appreciate the perverse ingenuity which had gone into tormenting her.
Rachel was standing, with her hands manacled and chained over her head. The chains were pulled tight, so that she was forced to stand on the balls of her feet.
Her feet were spread wider than shoulder width apart. Her slender ankles were circled by grim iron cuffs. Each cuff had a short length of chain securing it to the floor. Fettered as her feet were, she could not close her legs.
There was more. Rachel faced a spiked board. This board, measuring six feet high and some four feet wide, bristled with dozens of sharply spiked needles.
Jutting from the spike; board at approximately waist height, at right angles, was a vertical bar, which ran between her spread legs.
The top of the bar was a row of jagged, saw toothed wooden edges, rough and splintered. It pressed against the softest, most intimate part of her body.
The only way Rachel could relieve the pain of her stretched and sore shoulder joints, and her feet which ached from standing on tiptoe, was for her to sit on the wooden bar. This pushed all her weight directly on the saw teeth, which of course pressed against her sensitive pussy.
Rachel also had to beware of pressing the soft front of her body-her breasts, belly, crotch, and thighs--against the spiked needles.
It was a hard struggle. Her lithe body was taut with strain and dripping with sweat, so that she looked as though a pail of water had just been throw over her.
She looked over her shoulder at us as we approached her. Her deep brown eyes were bloodshot from the many tears she had shed during this day.
Rachel's personal history was most interesting. She was the spoiled child of wealthy parents, and had been married for the last year.
Richard, her husband, was a hardworking medical student, studying to be a doctor. He came from humble origins-in a word, he was poor.
Richard had been totally dependent on the funds supplied by Rachel and her family in order to further his education. But Rachel demanded a high price.
In another word, she was a bitch. Knowing she held her young husband by the purse strings, she dominated him and controlled every aspect of his life.
Richard was unhappy under her mastery, since Rachel was a sarcastic and sharp-tongued young lady, used to getting her way and belittling others around her.
She had alienated and driven off his friends. With her own friends, her husband was trotted out like a pet dog or prize-winning horse.
Things looked grim for Richard. Leaving Rachel meant that he must abandon his cherished dream of becoming a physician, a medical man.
Then John Blairsford Lipton entered the picture.
One of the many agents he employs to scout out new prospects reported the case of Richard and Rachel to him. Mr. Lipton was fascinated.
With Mr. Lipton's authorization, I contacted Richard, and spoke to him in the upmost confidentiality of the unique philanthropy of Mr. Lipton.
Mr. Lipton would finance Richard's education, and see that he was established in a practice when he had successfully graduated.
Not only that, but he would put Rachel under lock and key, where she belonged.
Like almost all of our contactees, Richard could not believe his good fortune.
In the words of the old saying, he was "wary of Greeks bearing gifts". At last, after I had established our bona fides, he was convinced of our sincerity.
A successful case is a masterpiece of logistical planning, similar to waging a military campaign. Many details had to be arranged.
When all the plans were successfully carried out, Rachel was abducted and brought here, to be trained and molded to Richard's specifications.
Arrangements and a convincing cover story were made, so that Rachel's relatives and friends believed that she had merely gone on a long and restful vacation.
She had taken a vacation from the world of normality, and entered the uniquely bizarre world of the Castle.
Molly and I went to Rachel. Her moans of pain were transformed into babbling pleas as she sobbed and begged for release from the bondage.
Molly smiled. "This girl has surely changed her tune since this morning. When I first brought her down here, she cursed me and called me vile names."
Molly put out her hand and touched Rachel's hair. She let it run through her fingers. The silken, shimmering hair was like ink, so black was it.
"She is a beautiful girl," Molly said.
Rachel shivered and sobbed as Molly ran her hand down Rachel's shoulder, caressing it. The hand went to the girl's breasts.
Rachel was in her early twenties. Her breasts were delicious-high firm globes of flesh with fat pinkish-brown nipples and wide roseates.
Molly cupped the breast. She pinched and pulled a nipple until it stiffened. Tears spilled from Rachel's eyes and trickled down her face.
"Look at those big fine nipples," Molly cooed. "Don't you think that they'll look just divine when they're pierced and equipped with golden rings?"
I agreed with Molly. In truth, I was feeling highly stimulated. Tina's exhibition with young Sally had already fired up my libido.
As Molly freely felt and fondled the chained girl, my penis felt heavy. My balls tingled. My member stirred and shifted inside my pants.
My voice was thick with lust when I suggested to Molly that she ease some of the girl's torment, by removing the saw toothed board which pressed her sex.
In order to justify such mercy, Rachel would have to suffer something else-a strapping at Molly's hands. Molly went ahead.
She unfastened the board which ran between the girl's legs, lowering it to the floor. I took the opportunity to examine Rachel's pussy.
I leaned over her. Her naked breasts brushed my face. The sweet scent of her sweat stimulated me. I examined her, putting my hand down between her legs.
Rachel's thick black bush was damp with sweat. Her pussy lips were raw and red and angry from the painful pressure of the saw toothed board, but the flesh of her pussy had not been broken-however, it was chafed and inflamed.
The pussy lips were swollen. Rachel cried when I gripped one of her labia between my thumb and forfinger. The pussy lip was soft and hot in my fingers.
I pulled back the pussy lips, exposing the slippery pink membranes within her sex. The seashell pink walls pulsed, quivered.
Rachel groaned as I pressed my middle finger against her pussy lips, which pulsed at my touch. I slid my finger deep inside her.
I buried my finger in her up to the knuckle. She was tight, hot, and wet. My finger easily entered her. I wiggled it around inside her.
I took my finger out-her juices shone on it. I brought the finger up to my nostrils and sniffed, savoring the delicious aroma of her young pussy.
I then stuck the finger in my mouth and sucked it clean. Her juices were fresh and tangy on my tongue. I smacked my lips in appreciation.
I straightened up and walked behind the girl, facing her back. She had a lovely bottom, one which was full and firm and voluptuously rounded.
Molly unclipped her leather strap from her belt. Chains rattled as Rachel writhed, begging Molly to spare her from the pain of more punishment.
Molly pressed the stiff strap against the bulge between my legs. "I see that this slave has had a most stimulating effect on you, Tony."
I smiled. My member was stiffly erect. It looked like a section of pipe, or a piece of cable, tucked in the crotch of my pants.
Molly gently rubbed the flat of the strap against my erection, which stood straight up as it jutted against the front of my trousers.
I removed my coat and hung it up on a hook nearby. As I unknotted my tie and took it off, Molly took up a stance behind Rachel.
I undressed. Electric heaters kept this dungeon warm-for the convenience and comfort of the masters and mistresses, rather than the slaves-although we certainly had no desire to have a punished slave get pneumonia from being imprisoned naked in a dank damp dungeon. We keep our slaves in fine condition.
And why not? After all, slaves are property, and a smart investor and owner will take good care of what he or she owns, especially if it's a slave.
Rachel's bottom was white and shining. The pale flesh revealed that she had not been punished with a strapping or whipping recently.
Molly set about remedying that lack. First, she teased the slave girl, by caressing Rachel's rippling buttocks with the flat of the strap.
The masses of soft bottom flesh jiggled as the black leather strap glided over them. Rachel bit her lip to keep from moaning.
Molly began to slap the strap across the chained girl's bottom. She started lightly, but rapidly increased the force and tempo of the strokes.
Rachel squealed in pain as the strokes began landing on her bottom with real force. She shook her hips from side to side in an attempt to minimize the pain.
Molly was just getting warmed up. Her lovely face was shaped in an expression which showed a real love for cruelty and the giving of pain.
I took off my shorts and set them aside. I now stood naked in the dungeon. My member jutted straight out from my hips, thick and rigid.
My penis was so hard and throbbing that it felt almost sore. I gripped it. It pulsed heavily, like a beating drum, when my fingers encircled it.
My hairy balls were swollen. I stroked the red shaft of my member while I watched the strapping. The strokes were falling on Rachel's behind with real force.
Rachel was in a double predicament. When one is lashed on the buttocks, the natural impulse is to pull away, and minimize the pain.
If Rachel pulled away, however,, she would press her body against the viciously spiked needle points which bristled on the board in front of her.
I would wait for Molly to finish the whipping before I made my move.
CHAPTER THREE
Rachel's gasping sobs of pain turned to squeals as her breasts grazed the sharp points of the spiked needles bristling from the board.
The sheer force of Molly's hard-hitting strokes pushed Rachel into the needle points. Her soft breasts were the first to be jabbed.
She sobbed in hopeless desperation. The sound of the strap hitting her buttocks had become almost mechanical, so steadily did Molly deliver the blows.
Molly's cream-colored face glowed with warm rosy red spots at the cheeks. Her eyes were hot, lustful. Her breasts jiggled as she struck again and again.
The color of Rachel's soft bottom cheeks was transformed from a milky white to a deep blushing rose-red under the rough lashing of the strap.
Rachel jerked under the impact. Her muscles shook from the strain of trying to keep her body immobile and unmoving under the punishment of the strap.
Molly could have gone on for much longer, and might well have done so, but I had other appointments on my busy schedule, and soon would have to move on.
More importantly, the stiffness and heat of my throbbingly erect member would not permit me to delay more than a moment or two.
I caught Molly's eye and signalled for her to halt the strapping. Molly slammed one last vicious stroke on the girl's plump buttocks.
That last one rose Rachel up on her toes as her long lithe body twisted and tensed with the pain. A shriek was torn from her.
Molly set aside the strap and moved over. I padded barefoot across the floor.
Rachel sobbed and collapsed-that is, she collapsed to the extent that her chains would permit. She hung limply in them, gasping, sobbing.
Her lush breasts shook as she sobbed. Sweat plastered strands of her hair down on her back. Her buttocks twitched and jerked as though still being strapped by some invisible whip-wielder. The chain links rattled softly.
Molly came to me. There were dark wet circles of sweat under her arms, and the tops of her breasts, which I could see at the unbuttoned and open neck of the blouse, were shiny with a glimmering sheen of sweat.
Her nipples were stiff inside the bra cups which supported her heavy breasts, which now rose and fell as she panted for breath from her exertions.
Molly reached out and took hold of my stiff penis. Her fingers were cool but her palm was sweaty. My member throbbed heavily at her touch.
She said, "I'd like to get you up in those chains one of these fine days!"
I smiled. She gave my penis a final caress before releasing it.
I moved up in back of Rachel. The centers of her twin buttocks burned a bright, angry, and welted red, with blisters rising.
She was so keyed-up, with her nerves strained to the breaking point, that she shrieked when I put my hands on her hips.
They were slick with sweat and hot from the internal furnaces of her body. The heat of my hard penis was even greater.
I peered over her shoulder at her front. There were a few dozen tiny pinpricks on her breasts, caused by the spiked needles jabbing them as she writhed and twisted under the punishment. The breasts were speckled with tiny red droplets, like ruby tears.
Below the red moons of her whipped bottom could be seen the delicate lips of her pussy, lips which were also red, from the irritation and chafing they had sustained during her time on the saw toothed bar.
I put my hands on her bottom and squeezed. She whimpered. I clutched the buttocks one in each hand. They blazed from the strapping.
I felt and fondled her buttocks, my erection bobbing and jerking with each fresh whimper of pain forced out of her.
I pushed into her, my erection rubbing the red-hot globes of her bottom. I pressed the sensitive underside of my stiff rod against her soft, wounded flesh.
I rocked my hips back and forth, rubbing my penis against her buttocks. I reached around to the front of her and felt her breasts. I guided my member down between her legs.
Gripping my rod just below the rim of the head, I pressed it against her quivering pussy lips.
She moaned and twisted, rattling her chains. She still had to move carefully, since the tips of the spiked needles were only inches from her flesh.
I placed the tip of my penis against her pussy lips and pushed it forward. The wedge of my member's head pried open her soft pussy lips.
Her labia were sore and throbbing with irritation, and more moans were forced out of her as I stuffed my erection's head inside her.
She was hot and wet inside. My member's head tingled as it was rubbed with the sleek and slippery flesh of her perfect pussy.
I was eager now. I pushed into her, stabbing her with my member, stuffing its head deeper inside her, so she could not Shake it loose.
I was in deeply enough so that she could not shake me loose with any chance movements of her hips. I circled my arm around her narrow waist.
I pulled her to me. My forearm was hooked around her waist, which caused her upper body, her breasts, to scrape against the spiked needles.
Holding the squealing slave girl tightly, I thrust my hips forward, forcing my erection deep inside her, stretching her membranes with my rod.
The red shaft sank between the pussy lips. Now it was my turn to moan, but with pleasure not with pain, as my rod was buried deep inside her.
I started thrusting. I gripped her hips tightly in my hands, holding them in place while I drove my rod in and out of her sex.
There was delicious sexual friction for me as my stiff red rod was massaged against the hot wet velvet of her tight pussy.
And it was tight indeed, so tight and narrow that I had to push forcefully to bury its length all the way inside her.
As my passion mounted, the speed and vigor of my thrusts increased. I drove in deeply with each stroke, so that my member's base was gripped by her labia.
When I thrust into her, my hips bumped her spanked buttocks, causing her to squirm with pain. Her added movements were a delight to me.
Heat rose inside me. I gasped for breath, my chest rapidly rising and falling as I pumped my stiff penis in and out of her slit.
The knot of tension in my belly told me that my orgasm was only seconds away. I pulled out so that only my knobbed cock head was inside her.
I took hold of both her nipples and viciously pinched them.
As she squealed and writhed in pain, I shoved forward, burying my rod all the way inside, holstering it within her dripping pussy.
I was not a second too soon. The instant my rod was planted inside her, it twitched against the walls of her sex, like a hose with the pressure turned on.
Semen jetted from my rod. Lust exploded inside me. I felt like I was being turned inside out as come gushed in thick spurts from my rod.
The orgasm shook me, tearing cries of passion from me. My erection felt like a hot rod which was dissolving in the molten semen.
Finally the force of the orgasm faded, and I returned to some kind of sanity. My body pressed Rachel's, as I held her tightly in place.
As I recovered and caught my breath (and collected my scattered senses, which were dazed and confused from the intense orgasm) I kept my penis planted deep inside her.
My member simmered in a mass of her pussy secretions and my own semen. The orgasmic fit had ended, but the tingling afterglow was just beginning.
I felt like a floating globe of pleasure pulsed between my legs, centered in my genitals. Liquid warmth raced through my veins.
Taking a last final gasp, I blinked my eyes to clear the sweat from them, and pulled out of the girl, rocking my naked hips backward.
An additional thrill was mine, and it was caused by the gliding of my sensitized member as it rolled across her quivering membranes.
The red rod was greased and shining as it emerged from inside her. The knobbed head came free from her labia with a liquid popping sound.
My member was semi-erect, throbbing, quivering.
I felt lazy and relaxed. Molly smirked knowingly at me as I weakly gathered up my garments and cleaned myself off as well as possible.
I told her that I would not need her to escort me out of the dungeon, but would go by myself, leaving her here with Rachel.
This pleased Molly, since she had hardly begun to work out on the captive brunette. As I prepared to leave, Molly took off her clothes.
She stripped down until all she wore was the pair of high heeled black leather boots which reached from her knees to her toes.
Before I left, I took the time to admire her stunning physique. Her breasts were milky-white, with pink nipples which were so dark that they looked almost red.
Her breasts were massive, her torso was lushly curved, and her hips were wide and womanly, with one of the most stunning bottoms it has been my pleasure to behold.
Her bush, which was fleecy and tangled and softer than the softest fur, was a deep brick-red color, and covered her dusky, fleshy labia.
How bizarre it was to see her strap on the dildo she intended to use on Rachel. The flesh colored dildo jutted from her unmistakably female hips.
I made my farewell. As I climbed the spiral stone staircase out of the dungeon, a moan of deep pain made me turn and look back.
Molly, grinning, was taking Rachel from behind, raping the captive brunette with the dildo, jamming it inside the girl's sex.
At least there would be no need for lubrication-my semen would grease the dildo as it penetrated Rachel. My member throbbed as I made my exit.
Three-quarters of an hour later, I was freshly showered, shaved, and refreshed.
Spread throughout the Castle were facilities for bathing and grooming. There were separate and unequal facilities for masters and slaves.
I rejoined Oliver Gilman in the viewing room. He barely looked up as I sat down beside him, since his attention was fully on the scene in the cell.
Tina was taking her pleasure from Sally's mouth. Tina sat on a wooden four-legged stool, while Sally sat in bondage at her feet.
During the time I had seen to Rachel, Tina had made a change of garments. She was now dressed (or undressed) in a pair of stockings and high heeled shoes.
Tina's broad bottom pressed the polished wooden seat of the stool. Her feet were firmly planted on the floor, with her knees far apart and her legs spread.
She looked more bizarre than ever. Her pussy was made to look twice as lewd than it would have been if she had been completely naked.
The stocking tops came up to the tops of her thighs. These stockings were not secured in place with a garter belt, but rather with round individual black leather garters which were circling the stocking tops.
The flexible garters kept the sleek stockings firmly anchored, so there was no risk of the nylons slipping to show unsightly wrinkles.
The reason for her change of costume was a simple one-Tina liked variety.
Also, she knew that she was being observed as she put Sally through her paces. There was not a cell in the Castle which did come equipped with its own adjacent viewing room. She knew the changes of garments made for a more interesting show for the spectators, as well as interesting her.
Tina was excited. On her heavy sagging breasts, the stiff nipples jutted like fat pink pebbles pasted to her breasts.
Sally sat on the floor facing Tina. The only thing which Sally wore was the rope which held her in bondage. Her upper body was tied.
Her hands were tied behind her back. The wrists were crossed, and ropes bound them together, ropes which were so tight that they cut into the tender flesh.
Additional strands of rough, coarsely fibered manila rope curcled her upper body, tying her arms tightly to her sides.
These rough ropes were sadistically tied so that they dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her breasts, punishing them with heavy bondage.
One reason that the bondage was so heavy was because Tina had cleverly arranged two strands of rope so that they captured Sally's nipples.
Sally's little nipples were stiff, red, sore. They jutted from the mounds of her breasts. There were strands of rope above and below them.
The strands were tied so that they held her nipples between them. They exerted a cruel and constant chafing pressure on the sensitive little points of flesh.
There was an expression of extreme revulsion on Sally's face, as Tina put her hand between her legs and fingered her own pussy.
This somewhat puzzled me, since it seemed that Sally was disturbed by something other than the pain of her punished nipples.
I asked Oliver what was happening. He spoke without once taking his heated gaze from the spectacle taking place in the opposite room.
He pointed at the simple toilet sitting in the corner of the cell. He told me that just before I arrived, Tina had squatted down on it and urinated.
Tina had not wiped herself clean-she demanded that Sally provide that service with her lips and tongue.
Clearly Sally had no desire to obey. I watched with interest, wondering how she would respond. I knew Tina would make her obey or suffer-possibly both.
Tina slapped Sally's face. For Tina, it was a light little slap, one which she delivered with the cool contempt reserved for a teenage slave girl.
The slap cracked loudly as flesh struck flesh. The echoes rang in the cell. But if Tina had hit Sally with even half her force, she might have knocked the girl out.
This physical reminder of Sally's slave status did the trick. There was a bright red mark on Sally's cheek, the imprint of Tina's hard-hitting hand.
Tina grabbed a fistful of Sally's hair and twisted it by the roots. Sally screeched. Tina's heavy breasts dangled as she leaned forward.
Sally sat with her rounded cupcake buttocks against the cold concrete floor, and her thin legs spread out and extending in front of her.
Pulling the girl by her hair, Tina dragged Sally caveman-style to her. Sally's face reddened and her muscles stood out from the strain.
Tina pointed to her pussy. Sally, whimpering, leaned forward, pressing her face between Tina's spread thighs. Tina smirked with satisfaction.
Sally's face pressed Tina's crotch. The girl stuck out her tongue and glided it over the intricate folds of Tina's full-lipped, fleshy pussy.
That was too soft for Tina. She took hold of the girl's ears, one in each hand, causing them to stick out like they were jug handles.
Sally's squeals of pain were muffled as her mouth pressed Tina's pussy.
Tina rocked forward on the stool, grinding her damp pussy flesh against Sally's face. Sally licked and lapped at the dripping pussy.
Sally's head bobbed as her tongue glided over the pulsing pink pussy membranes, licking the last golden drops from them.
Tina gurgled with satisfaction. Now that she had been licked clean, she directed Sally's tongue-and attention-to her clitoris.
Tina's lush breasts bobbed as she shivered with delight as Sally's tongue rolled over her pussy lips and up her dripping slit to the clitoris.
Tina's clitoris was a marble of flesh, round and pink and throbbing. No doubt its throbbing increased when Sally applied her tongue tip to it.
Sally's head bobbed as she polished the clitoris. Muscles flexed under the sleek nylons sheathing Tina's heavy thighs.
As she rocked her bottom on the stool, thrusting her pussy in response to Sally's tonguing, the soft smooth flesh of Tina's upper thighs rippled over the stocking tops.
One of Tina's big feet rested on the floor between Sally's open and spread legs. Tina wore black patent leather high heeled shoes.
The shoes had sharply pointed toes, sleek and gleaming. She slid the shoe across the floor until it contacted Sally's pussy.
Sally flinched. Tina twisted the squirming girl's ears, holding her head firmly between her thighs, and her mouth firmly to her dripping pussy.
Tina pressed the pointed toe against Sally's thin pussy lips and pushed it in. Sally moaned as the labia were parted and split.
As her little pussy lips opened, the bright wet pink of her membranes was exposed. Tina was able to dram the tip of her shoe inside the girl.
She moved the shoe upward, so that the tip of the pointed leather toe now pressed Sally's clitoris.
Sally's moans rippled through Tina's heated, slippery pussy membranes.
Tina now concentrated on her own pleasure, rather than inflicting more pain on Sallyalthough the pain of others gave pleasure to Tina.
Sally's golden hair spilled across Tina's crotch and hips. Her blonde head bobbed as she applied her tongue to the clitoris.
Tina's breasts shook as she was stimulated. Finally she cried out as she climaxed. She squeezed her thighs shut, pressing Sally's head.
Tina grunted and groaned. Her head was tilted back, so that her neck muscles were corded. Her face was taut and haggard from orgasmic fury.
She cried out as she came. Her breasts bobbed as she exhaled with a deep hissing sigh. Her thighs fell open, releasing sobbing Sally.
Now that her legs were open, her pussy could be seen. Sally's saliva dripped from Tina's labia, spattering softly on he floor below.
But Tina was far from finished with Sally. For the moment, Tina savored the erotic afterglow of her orgasm, and regathered her strength.
After a moment, she rose with a deep sigh on legs which still were shaky from the intense pleasure she had just experienced.
She bent over Sally, her heavy dangling breasts rubbing and nuzzling Sally's head. Tina hooked her hands under Sally's bound arms.
Tina lifted the girl to her knees, then put her hand at the back of Sally's head and pushed it down so that the forehead pressed the concrete floor.
Sally now knelt with her head to the floor and her rounded buttocks raised high in the air. Her bottom was still richly pink from the earlier spanking.
Lifting her foot, Tina rested the leather sole of her high heeled shoe on Sally's ripely rounded bottom. The heel dimpled her soft bottom flesh.
Tina jabbed the sharp spiked heel into the soft buttocks, dimpling them. She guided the stiletto heel into the bottom cleft and pushed it against Sally's anus.
Sally cried out. Tina sharply warned her to keep still or suffer a whipping. Sally sobbed, but remained in position-her slave training had taken.
Tina pressed the tip of the heel against Sally's anus. Sally whimpered, then cried out as Tina forced an inch of the heel inside her delicate rosebud.
Tina kept it there for a moment before removing it. She took off her shoe, then knelt down facing Sally's backside.
Sally's thin-lipped pussy could be seen below the rounded cheeks of her ass. Tina roughly pushed the girl's knees farther apart.
This opened Sally's thighs, leaving her pussy vulnerable. Tina now held her shoe and pressed the tip of the spiked heel against Sally's pussy.
Tina wedged the heel into the pussy lips. Sally cried out as two inches of thin but rigid heel were fed into her pussy.
Beside me, Oliver Gilman stared hotly at his niece's humiliation. He chewed little flecks of skin off his lips in his nervous eagerness.
I said, "I believe that what you have seen here today demonstrates that young Sally has been trained and transformed to your specifications, Mr. Gilman."
"You're dern too tin', bub!" was his reply.
I said, "I'm sure that you will be more than happy to take care of Sally's training yourself."
CHAPTER FOUR
There's something indescribably delicious about the soft sobs of a very young teenage girl at the moment she realizes that her former, frivolous way of life has ended, and her new existence as a slave has begun.
Sue Wilson was such a girl. She was young, younger even than Sally. Sue was in her early teens, with light brown hair and a thin, delicately featured face.
Her face showed stark fear as she was stripped naked by the matrons in the examining room. The girl sobbed helplessly and hopelessly.
Sue was one of our most recent arrivals. Her training program was just beginning. She was in the examination room, under the cold fluorescent lights.
Sue had not come alone to the Castle. Her mother, Karen Wilson, had also been taken captive for what promised to be a most amusing and stimulating experiment in double domination, since both mother and daughter were destined for slavery.
Like all other rooms in the Castle where key operations were performed, the examination room was equipped with a viewing room next door.
I sat in that viewing room. Seated beside me was Sue's step-father, Jeff Wilson.
Jeff Wilson was a perfectly ordinary middle aged man. He was in his late forties, and his thinning hair was liberally sprinkled with gray.
He was a tall man, around six feet, with broad sloping shoulders, a wide chest, and a paunch which swelled over the top of his trousers.
He had a square-shaped face, a wide nose, thin lips, and dark eyes which stared through the special viewing two-way mirror with delighted disbelief.
Jeff was a surbanite who lived and worked outside the city. He was the owner and manager of a moderately successful sporting goods store.
Like many men his age, Jeff had been divorced and remarried. Karen, a lovely captive who was now imprisoned in another part of the Castle, was his second wife.
Sue, who was being stripped and dominated by Molly and Hope, was Karen's young daughter and Jeff's step-daughter.
Karen was a good ten years younger than her husband. He had been in love with her, but she saw him more as a meal ticket and breadwinner than a lover.
After the marriage, Karen and Sue had teamed up to make Jeff's life miserable. He was not supporting them in the style to which they wished to grow accustomed.
He worked long hours six days a week at his store to supply them with the goods and luxuries which they craved, but which failed to satisfy them.
It was the old, old story. It might have turned out in the usual way, with mother and daughter squeezing him dry, then moving on to greener pastures when he was finished.
It might have been that way-if the agents of John Blairsford Lipton hadn't entered the picture, and selected Jeff as a candidate for the Castle's philanthropy.
Jeff sat beside me now. All had been arranged to perfection. Mr. Lipton's agents had furnished a convenient cover story to satisfy Karen's friends and associates as to why she and her daughter would be gone for a month or two.
Karen's friends and relatives believed that she and Sue had gone on a trip, financed by Jeff. Indeed they had-a trip to the Castle.
The unsuspecting females were drugged and abducted and brought here. Sue was still somewhat woozy from the effects of the drug.
The examination room was part of the infirmary. There was a leather covered examining table dominating the white-walled room.
Cabinets with glass fronts lined the walls. They were stocked with drugs and medication. A stainless steel sink was on one side. In the opposite corner of the room was a white porcelain toilet, with no private partition.
Sue was slim and slender, a lovely young creature. She had light brown hair which was pulled back into a ponytail at the back of her scalp.
She had deepset eyes, a long straight nose, and soft pink lips. Her flesh, fair in the best of times, now was deathly pale from fear.
Sue was about five and a half feet tall. Her breasts were tender budding mounds of flesh which rose gently from her chest.
Her torso was lean, with the ridges of her ribcage plainly visible below the soft skin. Her hips were narrow, with sharp and jutting pelvic bones.
Her little rounded bottom was soft and smooth and high and firm, with a deep cleft running between the pair of smooth rounded globes.
Jeff had confided that, to the best of his knowledge, Sue had never been subjected to corporal punishment-certainly not by her adoring mother.
From the way Sue whined and whimpered as Molly handled her, I knew that Sue's slave education would not be a pleasant one for her.
But it would be sheer joy for the step-father who had been the butt of her sarcastic comments and needling and smirking jokes about his inadequacies.
This must have been the first time that Jeff saw his step-daughter in the nude. She was a delightful little piece, and well worth seeing.
Her pussy was a pale pink thin-lipped slit, dusted with a light and faint covering of dark brown hair, too thin to be called a bush.
Hope and Molly towered over the girl. Sue, a small youngster, looked more frail and vulnerable than ever thanks to the presence of the pair of Amazons.
Hope licked her thick lips. Young girls and boys were her pleasure, and I knew that her juices must be flowing from the contact with sweet little Sue.
Sue was, to put it simply, a spoiled brat. There was a peevish tone in her voice which might have set my nerves on edge, if I had not been fully aware of the pain and degradation she would soon be subjected to.
She was terrified now, and doing a poor job of restraining her fears. Her eyes shone with moisture which threatened to spill at any second.
Her lips were tightly compressed, and her chin trembled from the effort of holding back her cries. She glanced fearfully at Molly and Hope.
Molly was dressed in a medical uniform.'A pale green plastic cap was pulled over the bun of red hair coiled at the top of her head.
The cap covered her hair, so that only her face showed, making her look more stern and severe than ever, and that was quite fearsome indeed.
Over her standard uniform she wore a green plastic smock, made of material identical to the surgeon's cap she wore. It was similar to an apron.
Its straps went across her broad shoulders. The apron covered her from her neck to her knees, and was knotted in a bow at the small of her back.
Her heavy pointed breasts thrust against the green apron front, pushing it out of shape. Her breasts bobbed as she moved.
Hope's outfit was also medically themed. Pinned to the top of her round wide head was a stiff starched white nurse's cap.
Hope held Sue. She stood behind the naked girl. Sue's arms were pulled behind her back, and Hope gripped both the girl's thin wrists in one large hand.
Sue was making quite a fuss, which was perfectly understandable under the circumstances, but far from acceptable behavior from a novice slave.
Only a few days ago, Sue had been a typical teenager, with her life centered around school, friends, and primarily her own selfish needs.
Now, she would exist only for the pleasure of others, with her own desires and likes and dislikes becoming totally meaningless.
Sue shrieked, demanded, and swore unceasingly. Molly warned her to keep quiet, before she was given a real reason to scream about.
Sue foolishly failed to obey. The reality of her situation had not yet reached her. She was about to get a painful education.
Molly said to Sue that she was a spoiled little brat in need of strict discipline, discipline which would be immediately forthcoming.
She told Hope to secure the girl for punishment. Sue's shrieks grew wilder and more high-pitched as she realized the extent of her helplessness.
Hope handled the girl as easily as if she was a doll. She dragged Sue across the room to a four-legged wooden table. Molly joined them.
Molly opened a cabinet drawer and took out some lengths of rope, thin but strong. Sue squealed in pain as Hope forced her across the table.
Sue was made to bend face down across the narrow table, with her feet remaining on the floor.
Effortlessly Hope held the squirming, cursing girl down on the table. Molly looped one section of rope and threw it over Sue's hand.
Presently Sue was bound to the bondage table. Her head, arms, and small soft breasts hung over the table's sharp wooden edge.
Sue's arms stretched down along the sides. Each of her hands had been bound in front of her to one of the table legs.
Molly did the tying, and she made the knots painfully tight. Sue screamed at her to stop, but got nothing but laughter from Molly and Hope.
Molly knelt down at the side of the table. Sue kicked and thrashed her legs to keep Molly from catching them and tying them.
Hope jammed her hand between the girl's thin thighs, wedging them apart, exposing her pussy. She took hold of the labia and twisted them.
Sue yowled in pain. She became hysterical. All her defiance vanished as she shrieked for the painful abuse to end.
Hope somewhat relaxed the pressure, but kept a firm grip on the labia, clutching them between her thumb and forefinger, ready to put on the pressure if the girl acted up. Sue's slender body shook with pain and fear.
She gave Molly no more trouble. Molly threw a loop over Sue's foot and pulled it tight on the ankle, so that the rope dug into the tender flesh.
Molly secured the free end of the rope to one of the table legs. In short order she repeated the process with Sue's other foot.
Sue now was bound hand and foot to the bondage table. Her legs were tied open so she couldn't close them.
I pulled my gaze from the stimulating scene and glanced at Jeff Wilson beside me. His face dripped with the sweat of excitement.
Sue squirmed on the table. The undersides of her small soft breasts were pressed by the rough wooden edge of the table.
She twisted her' head from side to side, whipping her ponytail across her smooth slender shoulders and her narrow upper back as she tried to look behind her to see what Molly and Hope were doing.
Molly said that Sue had to be taught an elementary lesson in manners before the examination could proceed. She would learn to obey.
Pain was the punishment for disobedience. Sue had put up a struggle. She would be punished for that with a sound spanking.
Sue groaned with dismay. Molly picked up the nearest device at hand, a simple foot-long wooden ruler with metal edges.
Molly stood over the girl. Sue babbled frantically, begging, pleading, tears rolling down her frightened face as she promised to be obedient from now on.
It was the old familiar song which Molly had heard scores of times from other victims who had just realized the extent of their powerlessness.
And, just as it had been for those other victims, Sue's frantic pleas could not spare her from the punishment which she so richly deserved.
There was a flat slapping crack of hard wood striking soft flesh as Molly slammed the flat of the ruler across Sue's soft buttocks.
Sue's shrieks became more hysterically frantic as blow after punishing blow of the ruler slammed down on her shaking, squirming buttocks.
Jeff Wilson sat upright in his chair, hypnotized by the scene. He gripped the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles whitened.
"My God!" he whispered. "My God!"
Jeff did not know it, by concealed video cameras with audio pickups were recording his reactions throughout the session.
In the examining room, a similar camera set-up was recording Sue's spanking. There was not a cell in the Castle which did not have its own hidden cameras.
This was done for the amusement of Mr. Lipton, whose money and generosity had made all these scenes possible. His reward was the supreme pleasure he got from viewing edited tapes of the various scenes enacted throughout the Castle.
Molly was quite mild with Sue, although Sue would not have believed that. But compared to some of the beatings she had given to naughty little captive girls, Molly took it easy on Sue, and could not have spanked her more than twenty-five times.
When Molly finally halted the spanking, Sue's quivering backside blazed bright red. Sue moaned, exhausted and drained from the violence of the punishment.
Jeff Wilson blinked the sweat from his bulging eyes. His orbs were not the only part of his anatomy which bulged.
His penis, stiffly erect, made a tent-like bulge in the crotch of his trousers.
His voice was hoarse as he whispered, "Damn! Giving that little brat a spanking is something which I've dreamed of for a long, long time!"
I told him that he could give her one now, if he liked-after all, we here at the Castle were interested in making his fantasies come true.
I suggested, however, that he postpone that pleasure for a few days.
It would be best, I told him, for him to allow our trained and skilled matrons to bring his step-daughter farther along the road of total enslavement before he confronted her in the flesh.
One of the prime conditions for enslaving our captives was their total removal from any kind of familiar environment of their daily life.
Here in the Castle, the captives were in a private pocket universe, as sealed and self-contained as a ship or a prison, a world with its own rules.
For Sue (or any other captive) to see someone from their former life so early in their training process would bring up associations from the outside world, from the world where the captives were people with ideas and desires of their own.
Jeff wisely accepted my suggestions, although I made it clear than we would arrange things to his liking. He relied on our discretion.
Still, he was uncomfortably aroused, with a stiff member which cried out for attention. It would only get harder as Molly and Hope continued with Sue.
I decided to get him some relief. Activating the intercom system, I ordered one of our more well trained slaves to be brought to him.
I settled back to watch what was happening next in the other room.
The last strands of rope fell away from Sue's slender limbs as Molly used a scalpel to cut them open. Hope pulled the freed girl off the table.
Sue wailed from the pain of moving her sore, blazing buttocks. Her eyes were wet, and tear tracks glistened on her terrified face.
This was probably the first time in her young life that she had been the victim of force and violence, and her will to resist had crumbled utterly.
Slave training is behavior modification developed to its ultimate degree. Pain-the slave's pain-is the basis of of the training.
Take Sue, for example. She was the product of conventional middle class morality. She was programmed by society to react in certain ways.
The average teenager, while possessing strong sexual drives, is restricted to certain forms of behavior.
Sue might have been willing to give up her precious pussy to a romantic high school football team quarterback, for example.
It was most un-likely that she would allow herself to become the total slave, the sexually submissive plaything of adult men and women.
But we would make her do so-and willingly. We would take out all the old rules of church and school and family, and make her obey our will.
Pain was the key. The pain of her body would be more immediate than any abstract ideas about "Being a good girl", or being "normal", or any other trash like that.
She had been disciplined. She knew pain. When a baby sees a hot fire for the first time, it might unknowingly reach out to touch the pretty flames.
But after it has burned itself, it will never make the same mistake. So it would be with Sue, at each step of her slave training.
She had defied Molly and Hope-her masters. Sue had still been operating under the assumptions and rules of the outside world.
In that world, she was free and easy and did as she liked. Molly had changed her attitude in the most direct way, by inflicting pain on her.
More than anything else would have, that pain demonstrated to Sue that she was in a new world, a world where old concepts of freedom no longer applied.
Our system of slave training was simple and basic. Good behavior was rewarded. Bad behavior was painfully punished.
At each step of her training, Sue would be confronted by situations which would frighten or disgust her. Pain would overcome her resistance.
My musings on the theory and practice of slave training were interrupted by new developments, as Sue's examination continued.
Sue moaned when she put her hands on her backside and rubbed the cheeks to try and take some of the soreness out. Hope swatted Sue.
Sue broke down and cried. Hope shook her like a rag doll until Sue was too frightened to cry. Hope told her why she had hit her.
One of the rules of the Castle was that slaves were not permitted to touch their sexual parts unless ordered to do so by a master or mistress.
Sue sobbed in a shaking, cracking little-girl voice that she had been rubbing her bottom, and not a sexual part of her body.
Molly and Hope both laughed at the uncomprehending girl. Molly told Sue that she would soon discover that the backside was one of the most sexual parts of the body.
Sue was then put through a routine exam. She was weighed on a scale, and her height measured. Molly made the appropriate entries on Sue's file.
Next, Sue was forced to sit on the examining table. The leather covered table was covered with a strip of slick, white, hygienic paper.
Sue wailed and whined as she put her red blazing bottom on the table. She sat on its edge, trying to keep off her punished backside as much as possible.
The girl kept her knobby knees pressed tightly together, so that her closed thighs protected her pussy.
Molly shone a light in the girl's eyes, measuring and recording her responses. She peered into Sue's shell-like ears, her nostrils.
Sue opened her mouth so that Molly could insert a flat wooden tongue depressor. Sue gagged until Molly removed the examining instrument.
Sue squirmed, shifting her weight from .side to side, from one spanked bottom cheek to the other in a vain and futile attempt to ease the pain of it.
Molly told Sue to stretch out face down on the table. Sue asked her why. Molly passionlessly slapped Sue across the face, making her cry.
When Sue's sobs died down, Molly told her that slaves don't ask questions when given commands by their masters-slaves simply and silently obey.
Sue fearfully lay face down on the table, her soft pink flesh pressing the cold slick white paper, which was similar in texture to wax paper.
At this point, my attention-and Jeff'swas momentarily diverted from the doings in the examination room by a new arrival.
Liz, another matron, had arrived with the slave girl I had requested. She escorted the young nymphet beauty into the viewing room.
Betsy was this slave girl's name. Betsy had been with us a while, and was well schooled in submissive sexual slavery.
She was an adorable youngster who looked like the girl next door, except the girl next door is rarely outfitted with a black leather slave collar locked around her neck.
Betsy's honey colored hair was tied in a pair of pigtails which sprouted from the sides of her head like two small ponytails.
I felt sure that would excite Jeff, since his step-daughter Sue had a ponytail.
Liz the matron was a tall and lean Texas girl. She had a bouffant hairdo, stiff from spray, which covered her like a plastic helmet.
Her face was wedge-shaped and sharp-featured. She had small high breasts, a nicely rounded backside, and long, long legs.
Betsy wore a one piece garment. We like to keep the slaves naked (except when they are put into sexually oriented garments like lingerie, rubberwear, and the like), but the slaves are often clothed when travelling through the Castle, to keep them from getting chilled or cold.
This is something you may not have thought about, but even the loveliest slave girl loses some of her attractiveness if her head is stuffed with a cold and mucous runs from her dripping sinuses. We keep the slaves in good health.
Betsy's garment was a skin-tight sleeveless dress made of white latex. Holes were cut in the chest of the garment to permit her breasts to hang out.
The dress was tight at the torso, and had a short flaring mini-skirt which barely reached the tops of her rounded thighs.
She was a luscious little piece, with plump breasts, a soft round face, and a lush bottom. She was an inch or two over five feet tall, and quite well developed.
I thanked Liz for bringing the girl to us, and said that I would notify her when Betsy's services were no longer required.
Liz made her exit, leaving Jeff and myself alone in the room with Betsy. Jeff's attention was turned from his step-daughter's humiliation at the hands of Molly and Hope, to this new young lovely who knelt before us, bowing low in respect.
Pointing at the stiff bulge in Jeff's crotch, I said, "This master needs relief and release, Betsy-see to his pleasure."
The slave girl moved to obey.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jeff Wilson's attention was now totally focused on blonde Betsy kneeling at his feet, awaiting his command.
I was amused by Jeff's reaction when confronted by this willing nymphet slave. I had seen the same reaction from many other guests at the Castle.
Nothing in his conventional middle class existence had prepared him for this bizarre reality, where lovely slave girls were open for his pleasure.
It took me some time to get used to it myself. But, as the old saying goes, a fellow can get used to anything, even being a master in a house of slaves.
It's like a nudist camp-first-timers there are embarrassed and self-conscious but after a few visits, one grows accustomed to the naked body.
Betsy asked Jeff, "Master, how may I serve your pleasure?"
Jeff's face was red with embarrassment and arousal. Since he was unused to this kind of situation, I intervened, so things would run smoothly.
I said, "Betsy, the master wants to look into the next room. It would pleasure him if you would take his member in your mouth and suck it off."
Jeff shook his head in happy disbelief, but Betsy did not so much blink an eye at my command-in the Castle, slaves were often required to carry out much more painful and bizarre tasks than this-this would be pleasant for the girl.
I asked Jeff, "I assumed that you would not object to Betsy servicing you with her mouth? I assure you that you will find her most delightfully skilled."
Jeff had no objection. He stood up, so that his groin was level with Betsy's round, lovely face.
I suggested that Jeff make himself comfortable by taking off some of his clothes before he began. He wore a three-piece suit and tie.
I supervised the session. At my command, Betsy rose and helped Jeff Wilson take off his clothes. He stood over a head taller than the girl.
He stared down, his sweating face red and flushed as he looked at Betsy's calm face, then lower, to the plump firm breasts jutting from her garment.
The dress was as tight as a swimsuit on Betsy, with the white latex molded to every rise and fold and fissure of her nubile young body.
Her breasts were stuffed through the twin holes in the chest of the garment. They were lush globes which were firm with the tautness of youth.
Betsy's nipples were thick and flat and soft pink in color, with wide roseates. This was the reason why all the slave garments had holes in the bosom-so the masters could enjoy the pleasures of fondling and mouthing naked breasts without having to first remove the garment. And the kinky design enforced the slavery.
For our male slaves, there was a similar garment, one which had openings for the genitals in front, and the buttocks in the back.
Jeff took off his jacket, and Betsy hung it up on a coat and clothes rack. All viewing rooms were similarly equipped, since sexual sessions often took place in them.
I glanced into the examining room. Sue still lay face down on the table, with her face buried in her folded arms.
Hope came to her. A slender glass rod, the tip of a rectal thermometer, jutted from between Sue's cupcake buttocks, which still blazed bright crimson.
Molly had inserted the rectal thermometer while Jeff and I were occupied by the arrival of matron Liz and slave girl Betsy.
The thermometer had been inside Sue's rectum long enough to take an accurate reading of her temperature. Hope reached for it to remove it.
A stifled sob came from Sue's hidden face as Hope's thick fingers spread the girl's buttocks, gripped the thermometer, and withdrew it.
As soon as she pulled the thermometer out, Sue's spanked buttocks closed, pressing together to shelter with soft bottom flesh the vulnerable rectum.
I idly wondered if the heat from Sue's spanked behind could possibly effect the reading on the thermometer by heating it up.
Hope held the thermometer to the light to see the red line of mercury. The glass rod glimmered with the lubricant used to oil Sue for its penetration.
Hope announced that Sue's temperature was running a degree or so above normal, but was nothing to be concerned about.
Jeff Wilson's moan caught my attention. Betsy had caressed him as she undressed him. She rubbed her breasts against his flesh.
He was now bare from the waist up. His broad chest was covered with soft black furry hair, as was his swelling belly.
He put his hands on her breasts, cupping those soft globes in the palms. He lifted them, as though weighing them in his hands.
Jeff stroked her nipples, which now jutted stiffly from the tips of her nubile breasts. One hand dropped between her legs.
Betsy took hold of the hem of her short white latex skirt and raised it, exposing herself from the waist down.
Her pussy was smooth and hairless-like most of the other slave girls, her bush was shaved smooth and clean.
Jeff's hands shook with excitement as he fingered her pussy. His thick trembling fingers probed her naked hairless labia, rubbing and touching them.
Betsy parted her thighs, spreading her legs so she could open more of herself to him. He slipped the first joint of his finger inside her pussy.
In the examining room, Sue now lay sobbing softly and squirming on her back. Hope attached a canvas restraining strap across Sue's middle.
The strap was designed to resist the escape efforts of the most homicidally violent mental cases-there was no chance of a young teen like Sue breaking them.
The strap ran across her middle, right below her breasts. It pinned her arms to her sides, holding her. Sue's fearful babblings increased.
Hope moved her awesome bulk to the foot of the examining table. Seen from behind, her buttocks looked as wide as a pair of garbage can lids-an exaggeration, of course, but one which should give you some idea of her size.
She waddled into place, then raised a pair of metal stirrups which were attached to the foot of the table, lifting them up.
Using thin but tough strips of white cloth, Hope bound Sue's slender ankles, one to each stirrup, so Sue was unable to close her legs.
In the viewing room, Jeff Wilson put his hands on Betsy's smooth shoulders and pushed her down to her knees. Betsy folded her legs under her.
Jeff's hands trembled as he unbuckled his belt, opened his pants, and took down his trousers and shorts, freeing his stiff erection.
He had a long thick rod of red flesh, an impressive penis with a fat knobbed head and a thick, blue-veined shaft.
A mass of thick black pubic hair surrounded his genitals. His balls were tight and swollen in the sac. His erection bobbed, jiggled.
Betsy's face was only inches from the tip of his member. Jeff gripped it below the head and guided it to her pink-lipped mouth.
Betsy puckered her lips and pressed them against the head of his member. Her lips made wet smooching sounds as she ardently kissed his rod.
Jeff rubbed his cock head against the smooth downy flesh of her face before again bringing it back to her mouth, which Betsy opened to receive his rod.
Jeff groaned as she took the knobbed head between her lips. Her lips were curled over her teeth, and gripped the rod below the head's rim.
Betsy's tongue flickered across the cock head, licking inside the tiny hole in the tip of the stiff penis. Wetly and ardently she sucked and slurped.
Betsy pulled her head forward, taking him deep into her mouth and golden throat. Like most men, Jeff was amazed at her expertise in oral sex.
Betsy took most of his rod into her mouth. Jeff's fleshy buttocks clenched tightly as he rocked his hips back and forth, fucking her mouth.
His red rod pumped in and out of her mouth, so that only the knobbed head was left inside. Betsy sucked and slurped at his member.
Saliva oozed out of the corners of her mouth, which was stretched by the thickness of the erection which was planted in it.
Betsy's head knowingly bobbed back and forth as she mouthed him to bring him maximum pleasure. Her mouth made liquid sucking sounds.
I sat close by, dividing my attention between Betsy and Jeff, and the scene in the examining room.
Molly peeled the cellophane wrapper off a pair of hygienically sterile rubber gloves. She pulled them on her hand with loud snapping sounds.
The gloves came up to her wrists. They were made of pale pink rubber which was stretched skin-tight across her hands.
Hope wheeled a stainless steel instrument tray to the foot of the table, then peeled back the sterile white linen which covered it.
I thought that Sue might faint when she glimpsed the array of coldly glittering steel instruments laid out on the tray.
Sue had lifted her head from the table and craned her neck to see what was happening. When she saw the instruments, she flopped back limply on the table.
It was a good psychological tool of mind control. Is there any one of us who doesn't fear a visit to the doctor, and horrors of the operating room?
As a matter-of-fact, those instruments were there precisely to intimidate slaves, and leave them helpless with terror-which is what happened to Sue.
Sue finally found enough strength to beg in a cracked and broken voice for Molly not to torture her. Molly laughed merrily.
Molly reached between Sue's legs to squeeze her thin, quivering thigh. Molly assured Sue that they weren't going to hurt or damage her.
After all, Sue was now a valuable piece of human property, and they would be wantonly wasteful to damage her.
This was only an examination, Molly went on, an exam similar to the kind a doctor would give the girl.
Sue's terror was hardly eased by the pair of forceps which Molly brandished.
It was a handheld metal instrument with a pair of metal legs joined by a rod which could adjust the width of the distance between them.
Sue squirmed and squealed in high-pitched terror as Molly reached between the teen's legs with the forceps, guiding them to Sue's pussy.
The tip of each metal leg was pointed and slightly hooked. Sue shivered and sobbed as Molly inserted the device between her pussy lips.
The hooked edges held the pussy lips, while not penetrating them, or even breaking the skin. The forceps were closed, with the twin legs close together.
Now that it was secured inside Sue, Molly opened the metal legs by turning a dial on the rod. Slowly and surely the forceps spread wider apart.
Since they were securely lodged inside Sue's thin pussy lips, the labia and the tender inner membranes were stretched wide open as the forceps were widened.
When Molly stopped, the instrument held Sue's pussy spread wide open for the examination. Molly shone a pocket flashlight inside the girl.
Molly's quick exam disclosed the startling and delightful fact that Sue was a virgin, with an intact maidenhead.
When this happy discovery was made, Molly quickly closed the forceps, so that Sue's pussy lips once more met and covered up her intimate recesses.
In this permissive day and age, it is hard to find a virgin among even the youngest of our adolescent captives, which made the find doubly pleasing.
While Hope attended to Sue, Molly pulled off her rubber gloves and discarded them inside a pink plastic disposal basket under the examining table.
Molly made a notation of this fact on Sue's physical file.
The fact that Sue was an intact virgin would effect her entire treatment and training while she was held here at the Castle.
Nothing must be done that would risk breaking her maidenhead-the pleasure and privilege would be reserved for her step-father alone.
Jeff Wilson was hardly aware of what was happening in the other room. He was focused on what Betsy's mouth was doing to his heated member.
His rod was red and blazing when it emerged from inside her puckered lips. He thrust faster and harder-he trembled on the brink of orgasm.
Betsy's chin was shining with the saliva which she had slurped on his rod. Jeff rocked back and forth, fucking her mouth like a pussy.
He wheezed and panted for breath. He pressed his sweating palms on her cheeks, holding her head in place as he buried his rod deep in her mouth.
He went so deep that he might have choked one of the other, less orally accomplished slaves than Betsy, but that adorable nymphet had the skill to take him deep.
Now that his rod was buried in her mouth, his thrusting stopped. He groaned from deep in his belly, rising up on his toes as he came inside her mouth.
Semen spurted from his member. Betsy's jaw and throat muscles flexed as she gulped his come down, sucking it from his rod of flesh and swallowing it.
His member pumped semen into her throat. Jeff cried out, then tried to stifle his cry, as though fearing the females on the other side of the wall would hear him.
But there was no worry about that-each room was soundproofed.
Betsy did not have to be told to swallow his come-that was standard operating procedure for all the slaves, male and female alike.
Slaves who were too inhibited or disgusted to swallow semen were punished by being forced to swallow other, more objectionable liquids.
But there was no worry about that where Betsy was concerned. That skillful little miss always correctly performed the erotic tasks assigned to her.
In the examining room, suffering Sue was subjected to yet another probing-the most intimate she had undergone yet.
As I said earlier, Hope loved young teens. She now stood at the foot of the table, where Sue's legs were still spread and secured to the stirrups.
Hope rested her broad palms on Sue's smooth shaking thighs. Her massive breasts strained the seams of her garment as she leaned forward.
She lowered her head to Sue's crotch. Sue squealed in horror as Hope pressed her face to the quivering pussy lips and kissed them wetly.
Hope rubbed her blubbery lips against the delicate and quivering labia of the girl. Sue's bound legs jerked and shook.
Hope ground her mouth into the girl's pussy. She parted her wet lips and stuck out her tongue, which was broad and fat and pink, with white saliva on its edges.
She laid that tongue across Sue's pussy. Sue squealed and moaned. She was not totally terrified, as she had been earlier, although she was still fearful.
Hope's wide head bobbed as she licked up and down along Sue's pussy, rolling the fat tongue across the pussy lips, licking and slurping.
Within seconds, Sue's labia and bush were dripping with Hope's frothy saliva. Hope squeezed and stroked the girl's shaking soft thighs.
Hope now pressed the puckered lips of her mouth against the quivering lips of Sue's pussy.
Sue sobbed as Hope pressed the tip of her tongue against the labia and forced it between them, the fat tongue wedging open the pussy.
Hope shoved her tongue inside Sue. She moaned, whipping her head from side to side, straining against the canvas restraint strap pinning her down.
Hope pushed her tongue inside the pussy and licked the smooth pussy walls, slurping wetly at the membranes, licking them.
She dipped deep, getting a preview of how Sue tasted. In the days-and nights-which lay ahead of Sue, she would be passed around from matron to matron.
Hope lifted her wet face from Sue's quivering crotch. Sue gasped, now that the hot wet engulfing mouth was lifted from her pussy.
Hope smacked her lips. Molly paused from filling out an entry on Sue's file to ask how the girl tasted. Hope smiled broadly.
She said that Sue tasted fresh and sweet, the way a young girl should. She suggested that Molly take the time to have a taste.
Molly laughed and said she would do that in due time. There was still one more task which had to be done-Sue must be shaved cleanbetween the legs.
While the matrons prepared to shave Sue, her step-father, Jeff Wilson, finally took his penis from out of Betsy's sucking mouth.
Betsy had milked him dry. His member, red and wet with semen and saliva, was semi-erect, and bobbed and jerked as he groaned with afterglow's electric pleasure.
Jeff sank into a chair and rested, sighing heavily. Betsy stuck out her tongue and swirled it across her mouth, licking up strands of his semen.
Jeff looked up with interest as Hope shaved Sue's pussy clean of all hair.
Hope squirted some green gel from a tube onto her thick, sausage-link fingers, then massaged the stuff into Sue's crotch.
Sue had already been prepared for the shaving by having the majority of her pubic hairs clipped and cut with a small scissors a moment before.
Sue groaned as Hope's massaging hand worked the gel into a frothy pale green lather. She took up a razor and went to work.
"Now just hold still and don't wiggle around, unless you want to get cut," Hope cautioned Sue, whose slender white body was rigid with terror.
With practiced skill, Hope shaved the girl's crotch smooth and clean as a whistle. This was standard practice for all the new slaves.
The reasoning behind it was simple. It focused the slave's attention on the genitals, where the hairless condition produced feelings of childishness.
It was a psychologically effective technique whether used on males or females.
I looked at my watch. It was just about time for Oliver Gilman to be reunited with his niece, Sally. Time for me to move on.
I excused myself from Jeff Wilson, telling him that Betsy would see to his needs. She could be trusted to be left alone and still remain obediently docile.
After making sure that Jeff Wilson was comfortable, I exited the room and made my way through the halls to the room where Sally waited for her uncle.
Sally was in a painful predicament.
She looked lovely. She had been freshly bathed, and her soft skin was pink and shining. Her fair hair was freshly shampooed and set, and hung in shimmering curls.
She had been made pretty for the man who would be her new master-Oliver.
She also was being softened up-which is where her pain came in.
Her hands were cuffed behind her back, the wrists secured by thick leather cuffs linked with a short length of chain.
Having her arms pulled behind her back in restraint caused her nubile breasts to thrust forward even more prominently and alluringly than usual.
But it was the sinister chair, or stool, which she squatted over, which was the bizarre instrument of her punishment and discipline.
It was a short wooden stool with a circular seat. But this seat was modified-rising vertically upward from it was a bristling mass of sharp needle spikes.
Sally squatted with her crotch directly over it. Her feet were planted on either side of the stool, and her legs were spread and open.
Cuffs linked to chains bolted to the floor kept her feet locked in place so she couldn't move them. This was only the first part of her torment.
There was a hole in the center of the stool's seat, free from spikes. Attached to the base of the stool was a foot-long candle which burned steadily.
The candle's heat rose up through the hole in the circular seat, radiating against Sally's soft parts, her pussy and crotch and backside.
The direct flame did not touch her, but the heat made her more than uncomfortable, to say the least. She gasped and moaned as she felt it.
Here was where her problem came in-the only way she could relieve the tension of her bent legs was to lower herself down-but that brought her pussy closer to the heat, and also caused the needle points to press against her soft flesh.
Sally's body shook from the strain of holding herself in that position.
Oliver Gilman entered the room where Sally was held, Molly and I sat in the viewing room, watching the show. Tina escorted Oliver into the room.
Tina had been the primary master and instructor of Sally's slave training, so it was only fitting and proper that she show Sally her new master.
At first, Sally was so preoccupied with her painful problem that she did not recognize her uncle. Instead, she begged Tina for release.
Tina said, "That's not my decision to make, slave girl. Only your new lord and master may decide if you are worthy of being released, or should be punished longer."
Oliver stepped forward. Sally gave a wordless cry of recognition. Her eyes misted with tears.
"Uncle Ollie! You've come to save me from this awful place!"
"Well, not exactly, Sally." Oliver leered at her. "I've come to save you, yes, but for myself. You're going to belong to me from now on."
Sally momentarily forgot her pain as her uncle informed her of the situation.
He, Oliver, had wanted her since she was a little girl. She had been trained here for him. He now would see how well her training had taken.
If she would agree to be his totally submissive slave, she would soon be released from the Castle, and she could resume her normal life-with a difference.
The difference would be that she would live at her uncle's beck and call, and serve him faithfully in all ways, obeying his every whim and command.
If she did not agree to this arrangement, she would be sent back for further discipline and training, until she had learned how to obey.
If she agreed, and later broke her vow of submission, she would someday be retaken and brought back to the Castle for stringent punishment.
If she broke faith, she would never know a moment's peace. The Castle's agents would bide their time, but sooner or later they would take her.
There was no place she could run to, nowhere to hide, where the agents of the Castle would not eventually find her. They never rested until they had recaptured a runaway slave girl, and their revenge would be terrible.
This was the choice which Sally had to make-a limited choice, to be sure, but as a slave her options were necessarily limited.
She could live under her uncle's benevolent mastery, or she could remain here at the Castle until she had a change of heart.
When he finished outlining her future, he demanded to know what her choice would be.
The heat of the flame, which she had been able to temporarily block out due to her overwhelming shock at seeing the familiar face of her kindly Uncle Ollie, was now making itself felt once more, and she quivered and squirmed with extreme discomfort.
"Yes, yes, Uncle Ollie, I'll do anything you want, anything!" she moaned at last. "Only please, please, put out the flame-PLEASE!"
He waved a chiding finger in front of her anguished face. "Only when we are with strangers or family will you call me 'llncle Ollie'," he said. "When we are together in private situations such as this, you will address me only as 'master'."
"I'm sorry, master! Please, master, please let me out!"
Tina looked to Oliver for instructions. He nodded. Tina unclipped her key ring from her leather belt, dropped to one knee, and unlocked the cuffs which held Sally's feet chained to the floor. In a moment, they fell open.
Oliver reached for his niece and pulled her to him.
Sally sobbed and shook. Oliver reached for her and enfolded her slim soft body in his embrace, pulling her close to him.
Sally buried her sobbing face in his chest. His hands shook with eagerness as he hugged her shaking body. His eyes glinted wildly behind his glasses.
Tina unlocked the cuffs which held Sally's hands behind her back. Oliver's hand drifted down the smooth straight line of her spine, to her bottom.
He patted her buttocks. At first, his touch was soft, tentative-then he realized his mastery of the girl and the situation.
He cupped his hand on her soft buttocks and fondled them. Sally's sobs were muffled against his chest. He caressed her slim hips, her soft smooth thighs.
Holding her, he walked her across the room to the bed. It was a double bed with a stout frame of dark wood and a wide, well cushioned mattress.
Tina blew out the candle on the chair of punishment. Smoke curled from the charred wick, rising up to the ceiling where the cameras were hidden behind panels.
Oliver sat down on the edge of the bed, resting his feet on the floor. He pulled Sally down on his lap. Her pink bottom nestled against his crotch.
He circled her slender waist with his arm and hugged her. Her eyes were closed, and she rested her head on his shoulder, her fair hair spilling down his back.
His face was red, excited. He stared down at the soft pink nipples which rose from the tips of her lush breasts--breasts which now were his private property.
Sally gasped as he put his hand on her breast, but she did not dare to pull away. Oliver squeezed and kneaded the soft mound of flesh.
He said, "Let's see how well you've learned your lessons, slave girl."
CHAPTER SIX
Oliver showed his stiff penis to his niece, Sally.
Sally lay on her back on the bed. Her thin legs were open and spread, and her hand was between them, rubbing her crotch.
Oliver had ordered her to show him how she played with herself. Sally had obeyed his command, and fingered and felt her pussy while he undressed.
Sally rubbed her fingers over her thin pussy lips, stroking them softly. The labia quivered. She rubbed slowly and steadily increased the pace and force.
The pussy lips darkened in color from the stimulating effects of the caresses. Sally moved her other hand to her bobbing breasts.
Her blonde head lay on the pillow. She closed her eyes but Oliver told her to leave them open so she could watch what was happening.
Sally played with her nipples. They puckered and became stiffly erect. She pinched them lightly, and rubbed her pussy with more vigor as her heat mounted.
Tina helped undress Oliver. Since this was a critical phase in Sally's slave training-the transfer of her ownership from the matrons of the Castle to her uncle-Tina had remained to make sure that the transition would be a smooth one.
If Oliver had been disturbed by her presence, or simply didn't want the matron with him and Sally, Tina would have left as soon as he requested it.
But he was glad to have her stay. Tina was a most attractive woman, with a lush physique whose voluptuously mature curves contrasted nicely with Sally's slender build.
Also, Tina's presence would constantly remind Sally of the discipline which would be hers if she failed to properly obey.
Sally's thin fingers rubbed and rolled over her pussy. Her fondling caresses caused the pussy lips to spread, flashing bright pink membranes.
Secretions oozed from her pink pussy walls, moistening her labia and fingers as she continued to fondle herself. Color showed on her face.
Tina helped Oliver off with his clothes, which she hung neatly on the hooked stand nearby. Oliver was stripped down to the waist.
Tina stood behind him, her breasts pressing through her uniform and rubbing his bare back. Oliver was breathless with excitement.
His member bulged in the crotch of his trousers. Tina reached around his hips to his front, and squeezed his penis through his pants.
Oliver kicked off his shoes. Tina unbuckled his belt and opened the top of his pants and pulled down the zipper. His erection bulged in his shorts.
Oliver wore a pair of old-fashioned boxer shorts. His hard member, a rod of red and rigid flesh, could be seen through the flyhole.
Tina's hand pulled and kneaded his penis. Oliver gasped with excitement. She rubbed her breasts against his back and manipulated his member.
She stepped back, releasing him. Oliver's erection bobbed and jiggled inside the shorts as he walked to the bedside, up by Sally's head.
Sally turned her head to the side so she could look at him. She continued to rub herself, since she had not been told to stop.
Her juices glistened on her fingers. Oliver looked down at her, chewing his lips. He pulled his shorts down off his hips.
His stiff member sprang up, freed from the shorts.
Sally gasped softly as her mother's brother's nakedness was revealed to her for the first time in her young life.
It was a sweet moment which Molly and I, on the opposite side of the looking glass, appreciated almost as much as Oliver and Tina did.
There was a peculiarly intense sense of Biblical sin in the incestuous passion the uncle had for his niece-a passion which now would be consummated.
Oliver's voice was choking with thick lust as he commanded Sally to stop touching herself. Her writhing fingers froze on her pussy.
He told her to get on her knees on the bed. When she had done so, her blushing face was inches away from his hard hot member.
He took hold of his rod and ordered her to kiss it. Sally inched forward on her knees, and pressed her lips against his heated rod.
She covered his cock head with quick wet kisses, making Oliver squirm. Tina sat to one side, watching avidly, ready to come forward if the need arose.
There was no need-Sally was tamed. The punishment chair with the spiked seat and the candle's heat had reminded the slave girl of the numberless torments which waited for any slave foolish enough to disobey.
Oliver's hands shook as he fondled the girl's soft hair. His fingers explored the soft contours of her fair and lovely face, stroking the skin.
The tip of his hard, red penis pressed her puckered lips. Sally parted them and wrapped them around his cock head, curling her lips over her teeth.
She took him by mouth. He pressed his palms against her cheeks and pushed his stiff penis deep into the moist hot recesses of her mouth.
Erotic excitement forced a sob of pure pleasure from Oliver as he forced his member deep into Sally's mouth.
Liquid sounds were made as she slurped and sucked at his member. Tina nodded with approval at the slave girl's oral skill and inspired performance.
Sally reached up and rested her hands on Oliver's hips, which shook with excitement. His buttocks were tightly clenched as he thrust back and forth.
In and out of her mouth pumped his rigid penis, gliding over the smooth wet insides of her lips, a massage by mouth which made his member heat up.
His balls were stiffly swollen in the sac. Sally took him deep, so that her lips pressed the base of his shaft, and his balls slapped her face when he thrust inward.
He rocked back and forth. She bobbed her head in response to the thrust he drove down into her throat. She was able to take him deep.
After some minutes, Oliver came inside her mouth.
His spurting member was holstered in her throat. He groaned as semen was pumped from his swollen balls, up the hard column of his erection, and down her throat.
Sally's throat muscles flexed as she swallowed his shooting semen. Her face was red and hot, with hair falling across her eyes.
Oliver groaned like he was going to pass out. He gripped her soft smooth naked shoulders for support, his fingers sinking into her flesh.
He kept his penis in her mouth long after he stopped coming. Finally he pulled it out, withdrawing it across her puckered lips.
His member already was sensitized from the orgasm, so his thrill at having the hot flesh massaged by her lips on the way out was intense.
Oliver had to rest. He was not a young man, and this sort of supremely intense excitement was a heavy strain on him.
He sank down on the bed. His movements were lazy, relaxed. His eyes were glazed and dreamy. He stretched out alongside Sally.
He said that he had enjoyed watching Tina use his niece earler. He hoped that she was in the mood to do it again, since he would love to watch it.
That was the only invitation Tina needed. Her passions had been fired by watching the incestuous sex as the young niece mouthed her uncle's penis.
Tina's strong fingers plucked open the buttons of her blouse even as she rose up from the chair. She took off blouse and bra.
She was naked under her skirt, as could be seen when she gathered its hem and held it bunched around fter waist. Sally crawled on hands and knees to the foot of the bed.
Tina stretched out on her back, naked from the waist down, her head and shoulders proppped up by pillows. She spread her legs and fingered her pussy.
Tina beckoned Sally to her. Sally crawled between Tina's legs, her breasts shaking and jiggling. She lowered her head to the matron's crotch.
Tina sighed with pleasure as Sally began licking and kissing her thick-lipped pussy. Oliver put on his glasses so he could have a better view.
As Tina was being mouthed, she reached across the bed and put her hand in Oliver's crotch. She delicately stroked his swollen, sensitive balls.
She felt and fingered his genitals while Sally's head bobbed, the teen's hot wet mouth kissing and tonguing pleasure into Tina's dripping sex.
I exited the viewing room, in a state of high stimulation.
Haunting my thoughts were stimulating mental image pictures of raven-haired Rachel, the new slave whom I had fucked earlier in the day.
It was much later, but my thoughts still were centered on her. I remembered her lithe white body, her high firm breasts with their dark stiff nipples, her heart-shaped bottom, and her tight and narrow pussy.
I requested Molly to prepare Rachel for my pleasure. While Molly left to carry out the command, I went to the refreshment room.
I supped lightly on a meal of fish, vegetables, salad, and a fine white wine. The food was gourmet-class, delicious and satisfying without weighing me down.
After coffee and a meditative brandy, I could restrain my passions no longer. I hurried to the cell where Molly was preparing Rachel.
Rachel had been brought from the dungeon to the upper level. Molly was in the cell with her, seeing to Rachel's chastisement.
Rachel hissed and gasped in pain, while Molly laughed cruelly as she tormented the brunette beauty who was bound standing to the wall.
Rachel's arms were behind her back. Twin ropes bound her, one for each arm, with tight loops fastened around her slender wrists.
Her ankles were tied as well, so that her legs, spread wide open, could not be closed. Rachel twisted and squirmed.
The sight of the brunette fired my senses. Heat rose up in my groin. My tingling penis shifted and stirred, rubbing inside my trousers.
Molly stood alongside Rachel. The redheaded dominatrix clutched a rod of chastisement, a rubber truncheon which bristled with wicked hard rubber spikes.
This club was roughly two feet long, like a length of rubber hose similar to the kind used by police forces a generation ago for giving suspects the third degree.
The rubber spikes which bristled from it were made of hard rubber, like the kind used in the making of balls for handball or raquet ball.
Since it was rubber, the club was flexible and whippy. One side of it was flat and free from spikes, so it could be used for whipping purposes.
Apparently Molly had just finished using it for just that purpose. When I walked to one side of Rachel, I saw that her bottom blazed a bright hot red.
Lines of ugly, angry red welts from this morning's earler strapping still remained to mark her buttocks, and criss-crossed them.
But the deep red bloom which covered Rachel's rear from the small of her back to the tops of the thighs had been delivered only a few moments ago.
I made sure of that by taking hold of Rachel's buttocks, feeling and fondling them. They blazed hot at my touch, which made her moan.
Rachel turned her suffering face to me. Choking with sobs, she appealing turned her moist, tear-damp eyes to mine, silently begging for mercy.
I saw no need to interrupt Molly yet. Molly had stopped the strapping, but she continued Rachel's torment, an act I approved.
Rachel came from a background of family wealth and power. She had to be humbled and brought low before she could learn to serve.
When I squeezed her soft bottom, the red flesh turned white where my fingers gripped it. As soon as I released her, the flesh turned red again.
Molly brought the spiked rubber club up between Rachel's spread, bound legs.
Roughly Molly rubbed the hard rubber spikes against the smooth soft flesh of the captive brunette's soft smooth inner thighs.
Rachel writhed, twisting in her bonds. The ropes creaked as they were pulled tighter and mote painfully into her soft flesh. molly laughed as she continued the torment. She scraped the hard rubber spikes against the thighs, leaving angry marks which did onot break the skin.
Molly moved the rubber club higher up, pressing it against Rachel's pussy.
Like any other slave girl, Rachel had been shaved clean between the legs. Every other day, she was brought to Hope for another shaving.
Rachel was a young lady in her early twenties, so her pussy lips were more fully developed than those of some of the younger girls.
She had a most exquisite sex indeed. My penis, stiff and hard as a rod of iron, hot as if it had been taken out of a fiery forge, bulged in my trousers, eager for insertion in her hot wet sex.
Molly smiled with sadistic pleasure as she scraped the rubber spikes back and forth over Rachel's nakedly vulnerable pussy lips.
Rachel squealed and twisted. Her lush breasts bobbed and jiggled wildly. Her lovely face showed not a sign of haughtiness as she sobbed for mercy.
When Molly halted, Rachel's labia were red with anger and irritation. Rachel gasped for breath, and made choking sobs, her breasts bobbing and heaving.
Molly was far from finished with the slave yet. She reversed the rubber club in her hand, so that its handle was pointed at Rachel's crotch.
The thick handle was shaped like an erect penis-it was a rubber dildo.
Molly used it for that purpose. She first prodded the knobbed club handle, which was streamlined and bullet shaped like the head of a stiffly erect member, against Rachel's soft and sore pussy lips. Rachel broke into fresh sobs.
Grinning, Molly moved the rubber club up along Rachel's soft flesh, which rippled as the black rubber handle pressed it, gliding upward.
Molly pressed the handle against the soft and yielding underside of Rachel's breasts. While doing this, she did not neglect to use her free hand to punish the nipples.
Molly mockingly caressed Rachel's face, which was taut and lined with strain. Her almond-shaped dark eyes were fearful and cringing.
Molly said, "Let's see how good you've become with your mouth, dear."
This was something which Richard, her young husband, had specifically requested. In their married life before Rachel's enslavement, in the bedroom, she would never take his member by mouth, although she insisted that he mouth her pussy.
Richard wanted his young wife to be schooled in oral sex, since he intended to use her mouth to a great degree to take his rod and his come.
The knobbed head of the club was a fat black dildo. Molly forced Rachel to lick and suck it, pushing the club handle deep in Rachel's mouth.
She reminded Rachel that it would be wise for her to do a good job, and get the dildo club dripping wet, since her saliva would be its only lubricant when Molly used it to rape Rachel's pussy, a few moments from now.
Rachel sobbed and shivered, her breasts and whipped buttocks shaking, as she mouthed the rubber club, taking it deep into her throat.
Her puckered lips pressed hard, flexible black rubber which drove in and out of her mouth.
When Molly at last removed the dildc club from Rachel's mouth, it was coated with a dripping covering of silver saliva, some of which spattered on Rachel's breasts.
Molly moved the dildo club down to Rachel's crotch. The hairless pussy lips quivered as Molly rubbed the wet and dripping club against them.
Molly pressed the knobbed head against the pussy lips and pressed it in. The pussy lips split and spread, wedged open by the fat dildo head.
Rachel grunted and groaned as her sex was pried open and penetrated. She whimpered as the fat dildo head was pushed deep inside her, stretching her.
Inch by inch, the black dildo shaft sank into her pussy. Molly worked it back and forth, fucking Rachel with it, making her moan.
As she worked the dildo back and forth over the sleek and slippery pink membranes inside Rachel, Molly found time to abuse the slave's bosom as well.
Molly's strong hand pulled and kneaded the soft bosom flesh working it like lumps of clay or putty, squeezing and pulling the breasts.
She dug her fingers into the soft flesh, sometimes leaving purple bruises. She paid special, painful attention to the fat pinkish-brown nipples.
Molly pushed the dildo deep into Rachel. She pressed her lowered head to Rachel's breasts, fastened her open mouth on a nipple, and sucked it.
When Molly finally straightened up and let go of the dildo, its smooth shaft was planted deep in Rachel, while the spiked section jutted from her pussy.
When Molly released the device, it remained where it was, clutched by the tightness of the captive girl's pussy. Rachel moaned from deep inside.
I had Molly take out the dildo and free Rachel from her bonds. I had something much better to insert in her pussy than a mere rod of hard rubber.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I was on the bottom, and Rachel was on top-but our respective positions in no way indicated our roles. I was master, she was the slave.
It had been a long day, and I was a bit tired. I had decided to lay back on the bed and let Rachel do the work of riding me to orgasm.
Rachel was delightfully submissive and eager to please. She had no desire to be put back in bondage and further disciplined for failing to please.
And Molly was in the room, looming over Rachel, ready to strike if the brunette's bed performance was found wanting.
Earlier, while Molly untied Rachel, releasing her from her bonds, I had taken off my clothes, hanging them up as I stripped naked.
My rod was as red and hard as it had ever been. It jutted from my hips, shaking with eagerness, fat blue veins throbbing on the red shaft.
There was a single cot in this cell. When I had removed the last item of my clothing, I padded barefoot across the floor and got on the bed.
The white plastic covering felt sleek and cool against my heated flesh as I stretched out on my back on the bed and waited for Rachel.
The last rope was released from her. Rachel choked back her tears as she massaged her wrists, which were grooved where the ropes had bit into them.
Red bands of irritated and chafed flesh circled her wrists and ankles like cuffs. Her plump breasts bobbed as she came to me.
She moaned from the pain of moving her sore and smarting buttocks, which burned redly with the heat of the whipping Molly had given her.
As I lay on my back, my erection rose up from my hips like a tilted flagpole. I spread my legs, making room on the bed for Rachel.
She swung her long white legs on the mattress, folding them under her as she knelt between my open legs. She rose up on her knees.
She did not rest her bottom on the backs of her heels, since her rear was painfully sore and pulsing. Her puckered nipples were stiff, erect.
Her nipples were a dark shade of pink, almost brown, so that they starkly contrasted with the ivory whiteness of her skin.
Long luxurious hair is a fetish of mine, and Rachel was able to gratify that craving in abundance, with her long jet-black tresses.
Her hair, parted in the middle of her scalp, fell down past the middle of her back, a black mass of shimmering, shining tresses.
As she knelt between my legs, her hair fell across her smooth shoulders, falling across her breasts, partially veiling those mounds of flesh.
Her stiff nipples peeped through the masses of hair. Reaching up, I took hold of her hair, my rnember throbbing heavily as I caressed it.
The hair felt softer than silk as it sifted through my fingers. Twisting some strands around my hand, I pulled her head down to my crotch.
My stiff penis quivered and throbbed as its heated length rubbed and brushed her soft face, which was still damp and shining from the tears she had shed.
I hold my penis upright in one hand. Rachel ardently pressed her lips against it, kissing it. I commanded her to lick it all over.
Parting her ripe lips, she stuck out her tongue, pressing the tip to my cock head.
Like a little girl licking an ice cream cone on a hot day, Rachel glided her tongue over my heated member from the tip of its swollen head to the base of the shaft.
I had her lick my swollen balls as well. I shivered with lust as she glided the lithe wet tongue down the divide in the center of my sac.
The hairy balls rippled as the tongue glided over them, creating intense sensations, increasing my lust for her lithe, long-legged body.
Molly stood over us, still clutching the rubber dildo-club. I looked at her over Rachel's back and bobbing head.
I put my penis in her mouth. As she sucked it wetly, her hair fanned over my groin and hips, stimulating me with the soft sensual caress of silken hair.
The knobbed head of the member was in her mouth, whre she slurped and sucked it, her tongue tip flicking over the tiny slit in the head.
When I took the member out of her mouth, it was hot, hard, wet, ready. When I squeezed it, a single drop of clear semen oozed from the tip.
Rachel lapped it up and swallowed it down. I commanded her to mount me.
I moved my legs together while she straddled my hips. Her thighs were smooth and caressing as they pressed my flanks.
Rachel pressed her lips together in an attempt to stifle the moans she was forced to make from the pain of moving her throbbing, punished bottom.
Rachel rose up on her knees, so that her pussy was over my crotch. She took hold of my member, holding it upright, so that it pointed directly at her sex.
Gripping it under the swollen head, she rubbed it against her pussy lips. I oohed and aahed, quite excited by the softly sensual massage.
Her lush breasts bobbed as she rocked her hips back and forth, rubbing her smooth warm pussy lips against the heated head of my hard member.
My voice was weak and quavery as I ordered her to take me inside her. Rachel guided the cock head back to the junction where her pussy lips pressed together.
She guided the swollen cock head inside her. The wedge of the erection's head pushed open her delicate and exquisitely hairless pussy lips.
For an instant, I glimpsed the sleekly shining and pulsing pink membranes of her pussy. Then my cock head was inside her.
I breathed deeply, thrilled by the sensation of having my heated cock head enveloped by the hot wet velvet of her pussy.
I was inside her, with the head deep enough so that it would not be easily shaken out or dislodged. She lowered herself down on me.
The rigid red column of my shaft was swallowed up inside her pussy. She was a wet furnace inside, and my member tingled and throbbed from her heat.
She lowered herself down, her nipples stiff, her mouth open and softly moaning as she took the full length of my rod inside her.
At last her pussy lips pressed the base of my shaft. Reaching up, I brushed aside strands of her hair, and pinched and played with her nipples.
The stiff nipples were throbbing buttons of flesh which I squeezed and teased. Her pussy squeezed my rod convulsively as I handled her.
I put my hand at the back of her neck and pulled her upper body down to me, so that her breasts dangled above my hot face.
I nuzzled her breasts, swaying my head from side to side against the soft smooth bosom flesh with its stiff nipples.
Guiding her breast to my open mouth, I fastened my puckered lips around her throbbing nipple, and sucked her breast greedily, like a hungry child.
I reached up and put my hands on her soft hips, which were lushly padded with a sleek coating of the smoothest, softest female flesh.
While I sucked at her nipple, Rachel rocked back and forth, riding my rod, exciting it with the sexual friction generated from rubbing her hot wet pussy.
My senses were on fire. She rocked rhythmically back and forth. Each movement of her hips generated heat in the rigid rod of flesh planted inside her.
As I savored the pleasures of her flesh, my mind drifted off into memories of some of the early days when she had first arrived at the Castle.
Rachel had just come from the examination room, where she had been humiliated by the forced administration of an enema which had cleaned her out.
She was shaken and frightened from the ordeal, which had brought home the powerlessness of her enslaved condition. It had helped to break her will.
After the humiliation came another phase of her training.
Rachel was taken to a cell where she was bound naked to a high-backed chair.
Her hands were tied behind her. Other ropes held her upper body secured to the back of the chair. Her feet were on the floor, and were each tied to the front legs of the chair, so that her legs were open, exposing her pussy.
Her pussy had been shaved, so that she was smooth as a billiard ball between her legs. Additionally, this chair had some special modifications.
The seat of the chair was removed. Rachel's hips were supported by the wooden framework, while her bottom and crotch hung down through the hole.
Rachel had looked up fearfully when the door to her cell opened. She shook with fear when Tina entered the cell.
Tina was not alone. With her was Betsy. Betsy, dressed in her white latex slave's outfit, was on her hands and knees, collared, leashed, and crawling.
A thick black leather slave collar was locked around Betsy's neck. Clipped to a ring on the collar was a dog leash, made from thin, tough chain.
The opposite end of the leash ended in a wide leather loop, which was worn around Tina's wrist. Tina and Betsy went to Rachel.
Rachel's face showed her astonishment. She was new to the Castle, where the sight of a girl down on her hands and knees like a dog is as common as dirt.
Betsy's lush nubile young breasts dangled through the holes cut in the chest of her outfit. Her breasts swayed as she crawled to Rachel.
Betsy stared at Rachel out of the corner of her eyes. She liked what she saw. Rachel was a beauty, with her midnight black hair, her high firm breasts, her lithe long-legged body. And Rachel was helpless in bondage.
Rachel feared that she would receive more pain at the hands of the matron and the slave girl, but she was mistaken-Tina and Betsy had another objective.
The pain of discipline is only one-half of the slave training process. Pleasure is the other half. They would use pleasure to mold her.
Tina let go of the dog leash, At Tina's command, Betsy crawled under Rachel's chair. The chair had high wooden legs, and Betsy squeezed under the seat.
Betsy sat with her bare bottom pressing the floor, since the hem of her latex skirt was so high that it failed to cover her rear.
The girl was hunched and huddled under Rachel. It was a tight fit, but Betsy was a petite young miss, and able to fit her small body in the confining space.
Betsy's knees were bent so that her chin touched them. Her bare pink legs were bent, and she hugged them, clasping her hands in front.
Inches away from Betsy's upturned face, Rachel's pussy and white shining buttock pressed through the hole in the seat, dangling over Betsy's hot blushing face.
Tina stood facing Rachel. Rachel's soft breasts trembled as she shivered on the seat, not knowing what would happen next.
Rachel had already suffered at Tina's hands, and she knew the respect which fear brings where the buxom matron was concerned.
Rachel flinched and whimpered as Tina reached out for her. Tina laughed. She said softly and soothingly that she wasn't there to hurt Rachel.
Rachel was going to learn a lesson about her true nature. Tina said that Rachel was a lesbian, no matter how much she tried to deny it.
Rachel's voice cracked as she denied the charge. She had never been with a female and hadn't the least bit of desire to do so.
Tina's laughter boomed again in the small cell room. She said that she would prove to Rachel that the matron knew Rachel better than she knew herself.
Rachel groaned with revulsion as Tina lovingly fondled her hair, running the long shimmering black tresses through her hands, feeling and fondling them.
Tina made free with Rachel's naked breasts. She stroked and caressed the quivering mounds of flesh, teasing them with skilled caresses.
Tina commanded Betsy to do her part in Rachel's sexual awakening.
Under the chair, Betsy tilted her head back. Rachel gasped when Betsy started kissing and licking the smooth white globes of Rachel's bottom.
Betsy's tongue glided over the soft round buttocks, while Tina continued to stroke and fondle Rachel's breasts, kneading and feeling the mounds of flesh.
Betsy pressed her mouth against Rachel's pussy. The ropes binding Rachel tightened and creaked as Rachel anxiously squirmed and twisted on the chair.
Betsy's mouth made loud smooching sounds as she kissed Rachel's pussy. Rachel softly, whisperingly begged for the sexual arousal to cease.
Rachel's tingling nipples puckered, stiffened, became erect. Her face burned with red shame when Tina called Rachel's attention to that face.
Tina said Rachel would find it impossible to deny the fact that she had lesbian desires, now that her nipples showed Rachel's arousal, with their stiffness.
But Rachel's arousal was only beginning. She gasped, writhing on the chair, as Betsy pressed her tongue to the labia and licked them.
Betsy's tilted head moved back and forth as she licked Rachel's hairless, quivering pussy lips, covering them with a shimmering coat of silver saliva.
Betsy's red, heated face nuzzled deep into Rachel's pussy. Rachel's breasts jiggled without restraint as she felt the tongue slide inside her.
Rachel's breathless pleas for the sexual stimulation to stop became weaker and fainter as her arousal mounted.
Tina knelt down, bringing her head in line with Rachel's breasts. Tina rested her palms on Rachel's rounded thighs as she pressed her face against the bosom.
Tina nuzzled the breasts. She pushed them together, lifted them, pushed them apart.
Tina's licking tongue glided over the trembling bosom flesh, which rippled as the tongue passed over it, leaving wet, shining tracks to show its passing.
Rachel's nipples jutted like brown thimbles of flesh from her breasts. Tina held Rachel's breast, sinking her fingers into the soft bosom.
She clutched the breast so that the stiff nipple jutted from the top of her gripping hand, She held it so she could whip it with her tongue.
Rachel received another erotic shock. Betsy took her long pointed pink tongue out of Rachel's pussy, where it had licked the membranes.
But this gave no rest for Rachel, since Betsy pushed her tongue up along the wet-quivering lips of Rachel's slit to the top.
Rachel shivered as Betsy's tongue dipped under the labia and probed for the clitoris. Rachel moaned when Betsy started licking the throbbing button of flesh.
Rachel was being used by a pair of hot mouths. Betsy tongued her clitoris from below, while Tina worked on her breasts above.
Rachel pressed her eyes shut. Hair swept across her back as she whipped her head from side to side, as though trying to deny her arousal.
It was futile. Her pussy was wet and dripping, as Betsy knew well, since the secretions were smeared over her mouth and face.
Betsy kept her tongue tip pressed to the pink pulsing clitoris like it had been glued there. Tina greedily mouthed Rachel's stiff nipple.
It would have taken someone with much more self-control than Rachel had to resist the stimulating effects of what Tina and Betsy were doing to her.
The cell room was filled with the liquid sucking sound of mouths working on soft female flesh.
As the oral stimulation continued, Rachel's gasping groans became deeper and more prolonged, with a desperate wailing quivering through them.
Her body was rigid with tension. Suddenly she cried out as she climaxed.
What a supreme moment that was! Rachel was crying and laughing at the same time, torn by conflicting emotions and sensations.
When my multi-millionaire employer, John Blairsford Lipton, saw the tapes of that particular moment, he was so stimulated and so pleased that he rewarded Tina and myself with bonuses, for doing such a fine job.
Rachel's defiance was shattered by pleasure instead of pain. When she had recovered her scattered senses, Rachel was taunted by Tina.
Tina gloated that she had proved that Rachel's sexual response to the female lovemaking, and her shattering climax, indisputably proved that she was a lesbian.
Rachel was unable to deny it, since she was still breathless and shaking from the orgasm's force. She cried, confused and uncertain of her nature.
My thoughts and memories were jarred from the past to the present by my own sexual arousal, which had reached a fevered pitch from Rachel's loving.
While I had shut my eyes and recalled the scene of her and Tina and Betsy, Rachel herself had continued to ride my rod, heating it to the boiling point.
My internal tension told me that I would come in a split-second. Rachel squealed and gasped as I clutched her buttocks, digging my fingers into the flesh.
I held her tightly, with my throbbing member deep inside her. It twitched against her pussy membranes, then exploded in a white-hot orgasm.
Ecstasy shuddered through me as I came inside Rachel.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Matrons Tina and Molly were working on one of our newest female captives at the Castle-Karen Wilson, Jeff's wife, and young Sue's mother.
We all were in the examining room. Tina and Molly were doing the work, while I was present as an observer-at least, until I decided to join in.
At the present, I was content to let the matrons take care of business. Karen suffered from my mere presence, since I was a male witness to her degradation by the matrons.
Karen was a strikingly attractive brunette in her early thirties. She had a lovely face, and a full-breasted, lushly delicious physique.
Most of that physique was on display, since captive Karen wore only a white latex bra and a matching pair of bikini panties.
She would not be wearing them for much longer, either.
Somewhere in the outside world it was night, but time ceased to exist in the Castle, where the lights always burned in windowless rooms.
Here, time was measured not by the passage of the sun and moon across the sky, but rather by sessions of pain, punishment, and humiliation.
It was Karen's time to go through all of these. She had been a captive long enough to have learned to fear the matrons who would give her pain if she defied them.
I looked Karen over, and was stimulated by what I saw. As much as I am attracted to nubile nymphets in their very early teens, I am also highly aroused by a mature, fully developed, and full-bodied adult female-and Karen was all of that.
Tina and Molly hovered over Karen, intimidating her with their Amazonian bodies.
Karen was gagged and in restraint, with her hands cuffed behind her back. The gag was a red rubber ball gag crammed between her jaws.
The rubber ball was coated with saliva which had oozed from the corners of her mouth. Her trembling chin was wet and shiny with the stuff.
The ball filled her mouth. Piercing the ball was a black leather strap which was buckled closed at the back of her head, under her hair.
Karen was frightened. The examining room's stark clinical atmosphere never fails to have that effect on male and female slaves alike.
Her legs were shaky and her knees were weak. She was marched into the room by Tina nad Molly, who flanked her, standing on either side of Karen.
The matrons held her under her bound arms, supporting Karen, whose fear threatened to overcome her at any second.
Karen's eyes darted fearfully when she saw me. I smiled pleasantly. She was not reassured. The matrons marched her to the center of the room.
Karen was lovely. Her hair was a rich shade of chestnut brown, and it fell to her shoulders, framing her wide face with its high cheekbones.
She was an inch or two over five and a half feet tall. In their bare feet, Molly and Tina would have been taller than her; in the high heeled boots they both now wore, they towered over Karen, dominating her with their sheer size.
Karen's breasts were full, heavy, womanly. Her fine physical condition kept her bosom high and firm. The latex bra gave her little support, but luckily she needed little. The thin rubber bra was skin-tight, and molded to her breasts.
The panties, equally tight, showed the arched mound of her pussy, and the folds of her labia.
The matrons sat Karen down in a chair which faced where I was sitting, so I would have a front row seat for the show of domination to come.
As soon as she was sitting, Karen closed her thighs and pressed her knees together, as though trying to protect her pussy.
Molly wheeled the instrument table to where Karen sat. Karen made agitated sounds behind the gag which filled her mouth, muffling her pleas.
Molly picked up a simple item whose very ordinariness seemed out of place-it was a clothespin, made of wood, the kind used by millions of housewives.
Tina's breasts pressed against the front of her blouse as she leaned over Karen and slid the shoulder straps down to her arms.
Karen groaned fearfully as Tina pulled the tight latex bra cups off her breasts, which tumbled free as they were released. The bra now hung below them.
Her breasts were luscious and lovely. Her nipples were large and dark pink, with wide roseates which took up a good part of the tips of her breasts.
Attached to the chair was a canvas restraint strap whose ends were bolted into place on the chair itself. Tina strapped Karen down.
The strap buckled across Karen's slim waist like a seat belt, pinning her to the chair. At the foot of the chair were cuffs fastened to the chair legs.
Tina knelt on the floor. Through the slitted sides of her skirt I could see her plump pink thighs, smooth and round, and the polished black leather of her boots.
She fettered Karen's slender ankles to the legs of the chair, locking them in place so that they were open and could not be closed.
Molly grinned as she showed the clothespin to Karen, whose face showed her fearful puzzlement at what they would be used for.
The clothespin was a pair of wooden legs held together by a small steel spring which pressed the pin part closed tightly with steady pressure.
Molly squeezed the clothespin, opening the blades. Karen's wide eyes followed Molly's hand as it moved the clothespin to her breast.
Karen squealed inside her gag as Molly fastened the clothespin to her breast.
Molly put the clothespin on the swelling top of Karen's lush, full breast. When she let go of the handle, the clothespin, under the pressure of the spring, was tightly fastened to Karen's tender flesh.
Tina took hold of Karen's nipple, the nipple on the same breast to which the first clothespin was attached. Tina viciously pinched Karen's nipple.
Karen cried and squirmed helplessly in the bondage chair. Tina dug her sharp nails into the nipple, punishing it, pulling and twisting it.
Karen's ivory flesh turned even paler from the pain. Her face was contorted with anguish, and her body was rigid and violently shaking.
She sagged back in relief when Tina released the nipple-but the relief was short-lived, and lasted only as long as it took Molly to pick up another clothespin.
Karen's punished nipple was red and stiff and sore. It was twice the size of its unpunished twin on her other breast.
Her eyes, widened so that sheer white showed around the dark irises as she saw Molly move the clothespin toward her punished nipple.
Molly fastened the clothespin to the nipple. Karen shook and squealed with pain, but her gagged and muffled cries were drowned out by the laughter of the matrons.
I felt a delightfully tingling warmth in my groin as I watched the punishment.
Laughing gaily, enjoying themselves and having a fine time, Molly and Tina repeated the same punishment process on Karen's other nipple.
Before much time had gone by, the two matrons fastened ten clothespins in all on Karen's bosom, in all the most strategically punishing places.
Clothespins were fastened to her nipples, to the tops and sides of her breasts, and to the full and rounded undersides of her full bosom.
Tears spilled from her moist eyes, rolling down her cheeks. Karen fought to keep from sobbing in pain, cince her crying only caused her breasts to shake, which in turn increased the pain which the relentless pressure of the clothespins caused.
I was most amused. The clothespins looked like the kind of barbaric ornaments worn by primitive people in the jungles for adornment.
The clothespins pinched her flesh as they rose vertically from the soft bosom They quivered and shook as she moved.
I nodded to the matrons, signaling them to halt-for now. This was only the softening-up process, but there was more fun to come.
The fun really started when Liz brought Sue to the examining room.
Sue sat in a wheelchair. Bondage restraints held her in the chair, a prisoner. Liz stood behind her, wheeling her into the room, the chair's rubber wheels squeaking on the slick linoleum of the floor.
Mother and daughter cried out simultaneously as they saw each other. Of course, Sue's cry was much clearer and louder than Karen's, since Sue wasn't gagged.
The teen's pretty little pink-lipped mouth would soon be put to good use.
I rose. "Now that all the guests are here, the party can begin."
Liz unstrapped Sue from the chair. A blanket had covered the slim youngster, but when Liz pulled it off, it was revealed that Sue was naked under it.
Liz opened the buckles of the restraining straps, opening them, letting them dangle at the sides of the chair while she lifted Sue from rt.
Liz was tall and thin, but there was real strength in her lean, wiry body. Her thin lips were curved in a cruel smile of anticipation as she lifted Sue.
If it had been humanly possible to break free from the chair, Karen would have done it, so wildly did she twist and turn and pull at her bonds.
But, alas for Karen, she was unable to free herself. Her eyes were wild, and she babbled ceaselessly-babblings which the gag effectively muffled.
Sue cried out in a thin, wailing, piteious little voice as Liz dragged her to the examining table. "Get moving, brat!" Liz hissed.
Molly thoughtfully turned Karen's chair so that it faced the table. Karen would have the privilege of witnessing her child's degradation and domination.
Liz laughed as Sue shrieked hysterically, the girl cursing her. It was an amusing contrast to hear such vile obscenities coming from Sue's young face.
Molly stood behind Karen, resting her hands on Karen's smooth shaking shoulders. The matron's eyes glittered with anticipation as she watched.
Tina joined Liz at the table. Both of them stood well over a head taller than small, petite, panicking Sue. Tina winked knowingly at Liz.
Sue's frantic shrilling cries were getting on my nerves, so I ordered that the little teen should be gagged-but I would use that mouth later.
Liz took a wad of surgical gauze and squeezed it into a tight ball.
Realizing that she was about to be gagged, Sue abruptly halted her shrieking cries for her mommy, who was surely in no position to help her.
Sue stubbornly clamped her jaws shut. Her blue-eyed gaze was wild as she looked from Tina to Liz and back again. Not a shred of sympathy for Sue could be found in the faces of either matron, only cruel lust and eager anticipation.
If Sue thought she had prevented her mouth from being gagged by shutting it tightly, she was immediately disabused of that naive notion.
Tina held the squirming, struggling, naked teen from behind. Sue's little budding breasts jiggled wildly as she uselessly tried to resist Tina.
Liz pinched Sue's nostrils shut. Sue's round, juvenile face quivered as it turned purple from holding her breath. Her eyes bulged, and veins stood out on her forehead.
When she opened her mouth to gasp for breath, Liz stuffed the wadded ball of gauze into Sue's mouth, filling it and gagging her efficiently.
Tina clapped her palm over Sue's mouth so the girl could not work the gauze ball out. Liz peeled two strips of surgical tape off a roll.
When Tina moved her hand, Liz slapped the strips of tape over Sue's mouth in an X-pattern, sealing it shut and holding the gag safely inside.
Now that Sue was gagged, Tina continued to hold her. Liz spread a thin, pale green rubber sheet across the examining table.
Tina reached around to Sue's front and gripped the girl's small budding breasts, one in each hand. Tina's large hands hid the small mounds.
Tina pressed her palms against the bound and gagged teen's small pink nipples.
When the sheet covered the table, Liz and Tina bodily lifted the girl.
Sue could not have weighed much more than a hundred pounds, so petite was she. She was laid face down on the table, with her front pressed against the rubber sheet.
Tina strapped the girl down to the table. The strap ran across the middle of Sue's thin back, above her bound hands, which remained cuffed behind her back.
Now that it was quieter in the room, and I could speak without having to raise my voice in order to be heard over the teen's shrill shrieks, I said, "It's most improper for such a young girl to have such a filthy mouth."
I went on to say that Sue's behavior reflected poorly on the upbringing her mother had given her, and that both daughter and mother were in need of a heavy treatment of corrective discipline, which was the reason why they were in the Castle.
Karen flashed me a hate-filled glare which amused me no end. Before I was through with her and her daughter this night, her narrowed burning eyes would be bloodshot from weeping. Karen was so enraged that she didn't notice the pain of the clothespins on her bosom.
I said to Tina and Liz that Sue would have to have some of the nastiness cleaned out of her with an enforced enema-after she was strapped.
Sue's cupcake bottom was still pink and rosy from some of the earlier punishments it had gotten, while the rest of her flesh was pale white.
When she heard me pronounce a sentence of punishment, the squealing gagged teen captive writhed violently on the table, jerking against her restraints.
It was useless-those restraints were designed to hold the most vicious and maniacally violent mental patients without breaking.
Liz and Tina took up leather straps, then stood on either side of the examining table. They carefully positioned themselves so that their bodies would not stand in the way of Karen's view of her daughter's sufferings.
At my signal, the spanking began. Karen's face was red and swollen with rage, but she could do nothing except sit there and watch each swatting stroke of the leather straps as they sizzled down on her daughter's rounded bottom.
The cupcake buttocks rippled under the impact. The room was filled with the steady sound of leather swatting soft flesh.
Tina and Liz had good precision timing-as soon as one of them had strapped the girl's bottom and lifted the strap, the other matron's strap would slam down on Sue's bottom. Each matron must have swatted Sue twenty-five times-each.
My penis was stiffly erect, bulging in my trousers. I kept changing my gaze from Sue's spanking to her mother's violent reactions at watching the discipline.
I knew from previous experience that Tina and Liz were only getting warmed up. They loved to punish young girls, and they would have given her not twenty-five but a hundred and twenty-five strokes each if I had not signalled them to stop.
Both matrons were excited. It was warm in the examining room, and dark circles of sweat could be seen under the arms of both matrons. Their eyes glinted hotly,, and rosy red spots of color rose up in their cheeks.
Speaking of cheeks, Sue's buttocks twitched and jerked, as though the punishing strokes continued to fall on them. They burned a bright crimson color.
Blisters and welts rose from the rounded globes of the buttocks, which was red shading into purple, and darkest in the center of the bottom cheeks.
As for Sue, her defiance had long since melted away, somewhere about the fourth or fifth stroke. She had gone beyond hysteria. .
Her shoulders shook with sobbing, and her face was wet with tears, but she lay limp on the pale green rubber sheet, too exhausted to struggle.
Tina and Liz seemed hot in their uniforms, and they were glad to follow my suggestion that they make themselves comfortable, since we all would be here for some time.
Liz and Tina took off their blouses. Liz left her long slitted skirt on, for now, but Tina removed that as well.
Liz was tall and lean, with a long neck, bony shoulders, and small high breasts with long pink nipples which were stiffly erect, and small neat roseates.
Tina now wore only her knee-high black leather boots with the pointed toes and high spiked heels. Her nipples jutted like fat thimbles of flesh.
Tina's breasts and buttocks jiggled as she prepared the enema equipment. A red rubber bag was filled with a warm solution of hot soapy water.
Tina hung the bag on a metal stand, then wheeled the stand to the examining table while Liz spread Sue's legs and cuffed them open and apart at the table's edge.
Sue's will was so broken, and she was so fearful of getting more punishment, that she made no move to resist, and limply allowed Liz to move her.
But young Sue groaned in dismay through her gag when she saw the size of the enema nozzle which Tina tauntingly brandished in front of the teen.
The nozzle, which was close to six inches long, was full and thick like a douche nozzle, rather than being thin like a regulation enema nozzle.
It was a large object to insert in the tight and tiny rectum of so small and petite a teenage girl-I was looking forward to the show.
Liz and Tina decided that Liz would have the pleasure of actually inserting the nozzle inside the girl. Liz pulled on a pair of pink rubber gloves.
Tina handed her the jar of lubricant, its cap already unscrewed and removed.
Sue squealed when Tina took hold of her red and burning buttocks, clutching them one each hand, digging her strong fingers into the punished flesh.
Tina's breasts dangled heavily as she leaned over Sue and opened her bottom, prying the buttocks apart and exposing the tight and tiny anus.
By this time, I had moved close to the examining table, since I wanted to watch every intimate detail of the session of humiliation scheduled for Sue.
Her anus was an adorable little rosebud of pinkish-brown flesh whose wrinkled folds sealed an opening whose width looked smaller than a dime.
I glanced over at her mother, Karen, who was shaking with rage. But Karen's rage was matched by the dismay she felt for her young child's predicament-a predicament she could do nothing to ease.
Liz dipped her rubber gloved fingers into the lubricating jelly, scooped out a fat dollop, and smeared it in the crack of Sue's ass, the buttocks held open by Tina.
Sue jerked, muscles flexing in her thin thighs as Liz stuffed the lubricant into her rosebud. Sue gurgled in her gag as Liz pressed her finger inside Sue.
The index finger forced its way in, opening the wrinkled flesh. Sue looked more shocked than hurt. She seemed unable to believe this was happening to her.
I said that it hardly seemed fair for the daughter to have to undergo such punishing discipline while her mother was suffering only the mild punishment of the clothespins on her breasts, which hardly seemed to bother her at all now.
Molly agreed with me. Taking hold of the thin edges of the white latex bikini panties covering Karen's pussy, Molly pulled it, snapping it open.
Breaking the panties open at both sides, Molly easily slid the white latex triangle of the panties off Karen's hips, so that she now was totally naked.
Going to the instrument table, Molly took hold of a pair of clamps.
These clamps were made of metal. They worked on the same principle as the clothespins, that is, a strong steel spring held them closed, and pressure was required to open them. Molly took one and faced Karen and bent forward.
Molly squeezed the end of the clamps, opening them. Karen squirmed helplessly in the bondage chair, her breasts bobbing as Molly reached between her legs.
The cuffs on Karen's ankles fettering her to the chair legs kept her from closing her legs and thus preventing things like this from being done to her.
Tina and Liz had halted in the process of administering the enforced enema to Sue, so they could watch what their compatriot Molly was doing.
I thought Karen would explode from tension, since she held her body as rigid as stone, so that she looked like a statue of white marble.
Molly reached between Karen's legs and ran her fingers over Karen's pussy lips, which had been shaved as hairless as those of any twelve year old nymphet captive.
Molly gripped the pussy Up at its base. Karen's labia were thick and fleshy. She groaned as Molly pinched the pussy lip and pulled it, stretching it.
When it was stretched and distended, Molly fit it between the metal clamps, then released her grip, so that the clamps closed automatically.
Karen hissed like she had been dropped into a scalding hot bath. Her eyes bulged in her head, and her face was contorted with pain.
The dangling long clamp shook but was not dislodged-it pressed too tightly to be easily shaken off. In short order, Molly had attached a second clamp to Karen's other pussy lip. Now the mother suffered along with her daughter.
Now the fun could begin.
CHAPTER NINE
Karen and Sue Wilson were a suffering mother and daughter pair.
It was too bad that Karen's chair had not been placed where she could closely watch the intimately humiliating details of Sue's enemaas I was doing.
On the other hand, Karen had been placed where she could have the big picture of the scene. Her view took in the slim white teen with the red bottom, bound by tan canvas straps to the green rubber sheet covering the top of the black leather table.
By the time Liz was prepared to insert the enema nozzle inside Sue, Karen had recovered, or gotten used to her pain, enough so that she could watch what was being done to her young daughter, and suffer sympathetically along with her.
The enema nozzle, made of flexible white plastic, was over six inches long. The coating of lubricant made it shine and glow with reflected light.
Tina stood the side, holding Sue's squirming buttocks apart. I stood at the foot of the table, compulsively fondling my stiff penis.
Liz smirked as she guided the nozzle between the red spread bottom cheeks. Sue's anus quivered and contracted, as though trying to shrink in on itself to escape.
But there was no escape. Sue moaned dully through her gag when the enema nozzle tip was pressed against her quivering, squirming rosebud.
Its folds of wrinkled brown flesh were pushed open and apart, stretched by the long thin nozzle. Liz fed it in slowly and surely.
The white nozzle vanished from sight as it sank inside the gasping youngster. Liz fed almost the entire length of the nozzle to Sue.
With the white plastic nozzle planted deep in the girl's tight rectum, Liz let go. Tina released the girl's spanked buttocks.
The red, twitching buttocks closed on the nozzle. From inside the cleft of the cupcake buttocks rose the long looping tube connected to the bag.
Liz opened the valve on the bottom of the bag. Fluid gurgled through the tube. Sue gurgled as the fluid rushed inside her.
I knew that this process would take some time, since the matrons would not be satisfied with giving Sue one enema, but would flush her out two or three times.
I took my leave, knowing that everyone would still be there when I came back.
Out in the halls, it was the same as it always was, day or night. There were no windows on the outside world to mark the passage of time and season.
The anal action in the examining room had excited me. I knew what I wanted. Since Tina and Liz were occupied, I went looking for another matron.
My first thought was of Hope. That burly, massive matron would undoubtedly get a real thrill out of what I planned to do.
But she was occupied with Larry, the youth whose grandmother wanted him degraded beyond the point of no return. Hope was assisting in that process.
Inside the cell, a naked boy lay on his back, his nude body strapped down, his head covered by a box-like seat with a toilet mounted over it.
Sitting on the seat with her skirt raised was Hope. Not wanting to disturb her, I went in search of another matron. Luckily, I encountered Molly.
She had stepped out of the examining room for some refreshment. The discipline session in there was likely to run for most of the night, so she knew she would miss little if she took a leave of absence.
Molly was in a small cell with two female slaves. She sat on a chair, with her blouse open and unbuttoned, so that her big breasts were naked.
The slave girls were Sally and, surprisingly, Rachel-and Rachel was just the girl that I had desired. But I would wait for Molly to finish with her.
The slaves were aware that I had entered the cell, but they dared not look up and away from what they were doing, for fear of Molly's wrath.
Molly sat on the cot. Sally was on one side of her, and Rachel was on the other side. Both slaves were stark naked.
There was an eight or nine year gap in the difference in ages of teenage Sally, who was in her early teens, and Rachel, who was around twenty years old.
Sally was all pink and shining. Her smooth skin was a bright glossy shade of scrubbed pink, showing that she had recently come from a shower to clean up after having been the sex toy of her uncle, Oliver Gilman.
Oliver was now resting after a long and exciting day. We have guest rooms for special visitors at the Castle, and Oliver rested in one of those rooms.
He would be here for the next few days, participating in sophisticated and kinky scenes, watching Sally being put through her slave's paces.
In less than a week he would leave here, taking Sally with him. She would go back to live with her parents-who lived only a few blocks away from Oliver.
Her parents knew nothing. They believed that Sally had won a special prize involving a trip across the country. Sally had made phone calls and written letters to her parents, designed to make them believe in the hoax, which they did.
When she was released from the Castle, she would live a strange double life.
No longer would she be imprisoned in the Castle, but she would never be free of it. Never would she forget what had been done to her, and what she had been forced to do.
And she would never be able to forget that the Castle would always be there, waiting, waiting for her if she should defy or disobey her uncle.
She would go back to junior high school, and, on the surface, live the life of a typical American teenage girl-but she would be a secret sex slave to her mother's brother.
But for now, Oliver rested, and Molly took advantage of the fact, and of Sally, as well as of Rachel.
I admired the contrast between Sally's budding body and Rachel's lithe womanhood. Sally was still a girl, but Rachel was more mature.
Sally's breasts were small, budding mounds of soft white flesh, the nipples little pink points surrounded by neat round small roseates.
Rachel's breasts were full and heavy, pear-shaped, with fat pinkish-brown nipples and wide blurred roseates.
Sally was petite, small-boned; Rachel was long and lean. Sally's fair hair was yellow like sunlight and honey, Rachel's hair was black as night.
And Molly was enjoying both delicious slaves at the same time.
Her massive breasts, naked and free and full, were simultaneously mouthed by Rachel and Sally. Molly looked as pleased as the cat who ate the canaries, except that it was the sweet little slave canaries who were eating her.
Sally's mouth was a pink puckered rosebud wrapped around Molly's fat nipple. Rachel's mouth was a red-lipped O wrapped around the other nipple.
Molly sat with her broad strong arms around the shoulders of each girl, holding their heads firmly in place at her breasts.
Silently I signalled to Molly that I was in no hurry, and that she should take her time and have her fun, which I would watch.
I sat down in a chair facing the bed. My penis had softened somewhat when I left the examination room, but it stirred with renewed vigor.
Rachel sat at Molly's side. Rachel's thighs were closed, her knees pressed together, and her bare feet tapped nervously on the floor.
As she nursed at Molly's nipple, Rachel darted nervous glances in my direction. She knew that I was far from finished with her.
Molly gently disengaged both females from her bosom flesh. Her stiff red nipples shone with the saliva left by the licking sucking mouths of the slaves.
Molly's heavy breasts shook and rippled as she stood up. She undid the catch of her long skirt and unwrapped it from her hips.
Molly's pussy had a fat, dark reddish-brown bush. It was refreshing and stimulating to see that furry triangle of soft fleecy hair.
It made her look more mature and adult than the slave girls she dominated, whose pussies were shaved clean, making their sexes look immature.
Molly put her hands on each of the girls' shoulders and pushed downward. The girls bent their knees and knelt on the floor.
Molly stood between them. Sue faced Molly's broad bottom, while Rachel was face to face with Molly's red-bushed, thick-lipped pussy.
Molly spread her booted legs wide apart. Looking over her shoulder, she reached behind her, taking hold of Sally's hair and pulling it.
She pulled Sally's wet face to her, so that it pressed her bottom.
Sally stuck out her tongue and licked. Her tongue was long, pink, pointed. She laid the flat of it on the buttocks and covered them with saliva.
While Sally performed that function, Molly next turned her attention to Rachel.
Rachel's face stared at Molly's crotch, which was only inches away. There was a pungent and sweaty aroma in the room which I found stimulating.
Molly smirked down at Rachel. Like a good slave, Rachel kept her face expressionless and her body motionless as she waited for the command.
Molly put her hand on the back of Rachel's brunette head and pulled it to her crotch. Rachel silently kissed and licked the pussy.
Molly was now being orally serviced from both ends, front and back. Her wide face glowed with pleasure and was red and flushed with lust.
Her broad bottom cheeks rippled as Sally's tongue glided over them. Sally's face now was covered with saliva. Her head bobbed up and down.
Rachel's tongue glided over Molly's pussy lips. Molly held Rachel's head and ground her crotch against it, splitting and opening her pussy lips.
Her sleek pink membranes dripped with the rich secretions of sexual arousal, an arousal which had been brought to the boiling point by the kinky doings in the examination room where the mother and daughter were degraded.
Her juices smeared on Rachel's face. The slave's eyes were closed, the long thick lashes fluttering, her face burning red with hot shame.
Rachel pushed her tongue inside Molly.
Molly murmured with satisfaction as Rachel rolled her tongue over the pussy walls, licking and lapping.
Pleased that Rachel was fulfilling her appointed task of oral love, Molly turned her attention to Sally.
Molly pushed Sally's wet, red face away from her bottom, which glistened with the coating of saliva applied by the slave girl.
Molly clutched her buttocks, one in each hand, the soft shining bottom flesh oozing through the spaces of her gripping fingers.
She spread her buttocks to the sides, pulling them apart, opening them to expose the deep dark cleft of her rear, and her wrinkled, puckered brown anus.
Her anus was a single brown eye winking at Sally. Sally pushed her face forward, wedging it between the bottom cheeks, which partially hid it.
I knew that inside those fleshy buttocks, Sally's pink mouth was pressed against Molly's anus in long and loving kisses.
Molly shivered with erotic delight as Sally -rimmed her. Sally's tongue pressed the anus, forced its way inside, and licked her sticky rectum.
Molly had Rachel apply her tongue to her fat and throbbing clitoris. Rachel pressed the tongue tip to the flesh button, caressing it.
Molly was a human candle burning at both ends. Sally's tongue lanced in and out of her sensitive rectum, leaving her breathless.
At the same time, Rachel's tongue polished the bright pink marble of her clitoris, each tongue stroke firing Molly's passions to a new height.
Molly fondled her own breasts. She cupped and lifted them, the soft warm bosom flesh covering the palms and oozing over the edges of the hands.
Molly's breathless moans came from deep inside her. They came faster and faster until she came. She cried out as she climaxed.
The cry of passion came from deep in the pit of her stomach.
After Molly recovered from her orgasm to the extent that she was able to move, she pushed away from the kneeling wet-faced slaves.
Molly hurried to the cot and exhaustedly sank down on it. She closed her round smooth thighs, pressing them against the quivering lips of her wet pussy.
I walked to her. I paused between the slaves and ordered them to bow low in submission. They pressed their foreheads to the floor and kept them there.
I sat beside Molly. Her wide face shone with sweat. I put my mouth close to her ear and whispered what I wanted her to do for me when she recovered.
I told her not to hurry, but to relax and savor her orgasm. I was going back to the examination room to see how things were progressing there.
Molly promised that she would see to it that all was arranged to my liking.
On my way out of the cell, I puased by Rachel. She flinched but said nothing when I nudged her soft, luscious bottom with the toe of my shoe.
I said, "I'll see you in a little while, Rachel."
I would let her think and worry and dread what I was going to her. In the meantime, I exited the cell and hurried to the examination room.
Things were moving along nicely. I did not interrupt or interfere, but stood just inside the door and watched the show.
Some things had changed. While I had been in the cell with Molly, Tina and Liz had switched Karen and her daughter Sue around.
It was Karen, the mother, who now lay in bondage on the examining table.
Karen was on her knees. The clothespins had been removed from her breasts, and lay in a neat pile on a nearby table.
Karen's buxom breasts showed the marks where the clothespins were attached to her soft bosom flesh, ugly angry red marks and purple bruises.
Her nipples were red, raw, stiffly swollen. They had taken much abuse.
The twin metal clamps were likewise removed from her pussy lips. Those soft, full, delicate labia, were red and angry and sore from the mistreatment.
Karen was still gagged. She was a slow learner, since she continued to futilely curse and shriek at the matrons who tormented her daughter.
Karen's long legs were folded under her. Her body was huddled, with her arms stretching along her sides. Her hands were tied to her ankles.
Her thighs were pushed apart. Karen must have taken a whipping while I was gone. Before I left, her round white buttocks were white, untouched.
Now, over a dozen red raw lines criss-crossed her fleshy buttocks, striping that rounded smoothness. Her whipped bottom twitched and quivered.
Karen was positioned so that her backside, which rested on the heels of her folded legs, was close to the edge of the table she knelt on.
Below her whipped bottom I could see the red, chafed lips of her punished pussy. They were the target for more intended abuse.
Liz had joined Tina in taking off her clothes. Liz wore nothing but a pair of black leather boots. Her crotch was naked.
She had a flat belly with a neat small navel, thin hips with jutting hipbones, and a narrow, thin-lipped, dusky pink pussy with a brown silky bush.
Liz held a dildo-vibrator. Made of slick white plastic, it was long and streamlined with a bullet shaped head.
Karen ignored her own pain-was oblivious of it. She was totally focused on the humiliation which her young daughter was undergoing.
Tina dominated the girl. They both stood on the floor in front of Karen's face, so that the girl's mother would see every detail.
Sue was broken in spirit. She was weak and drained from the enema she had been given. Her lank hair was plastered across her pale, sweating face.
She was naked and on her knees. Her eyes were bloodshot from the tears she had shed, and moist with the promise of tears to come.
Tina faced the girl, with her naked crotch inches from Sue's face. She was giving Sue her first lessons in the art of eating pussy.
She held a handful of the girl's soft hair curled around her big fist. She pulled Sue's head to her, twisting the hair by the roots.
Sue shook with revulsion. She made gagging sounds in the back of her throat. But there was no worry about her being sick-the enema had cleaned out the contents of her little tummy. But the girl whimpered fearfully.
Seeing Sue's hesitation, Tina demanded to know if the girl would prefer another spanking and a second enema instead of mouthing Tina's pussy.
Sue cried out quickly that she would do what Tina wanted. Tina ordered her to give her pussy a great big kiss. Sue pressed her lips to it.
Karen snarled. Liz mockingly patted her whipped bottom, telling Karen not to worry, that she would not be neglected.
There was a low droning hum as Liz switched on the dildo-vibrator. The vibrator inside the dildo buzzed, shaking it.
Karen writhed as Liz began rolling the dildo over her pussy.
The humming, buzzing, sleek plastic bullet head of the dildo-vibrator glided over the pussy lips, up and down Karen's slit.
Liz had a purpose. Karen had been disciplined, programmed with pain. Now, Liz used the dildo-vibrator to give pleasure.
The body has a will of its own. It does not know or care what the source of its pleasure is, it only knows that it enjoys that pleasure.
A naive man whose greatest thrill is to have his stiff penis mouthed and sucked by a woman, may often recoil with horror at having the same service performed by another maleand yet, there is no difference between a male and female mouth. A blindfolded man would be unable to tell if the mouth sucking his erection belongs to a man or a woman. The difference it strictly mental.