The slender quirt, studded with needle- sharp, vicious spikes, whistled through the morning air and cracked into the rounded, luscious, quivering ass of Colette, the Baroness Melichamp's upstairs maid.
The baroness, furiously wielding the quirt, was an Amazonian woman; towering well over six feet tall in her six inch spike tip heels, expensive looking, pampered, beautiful and frostily aloof. She had the haughty and arrogant beauty that only the true aristocrats seem to possess. Long shimmering raven locks cascaded down over her ivory white shoulders, spilling in glory over the rippling upper slopes of her mammoth, thrusting breasts, the hair riding and spilling thru the air with the action of her body.
A close inspection would reveal cold and calculating eyes, and a diabolical smile upon the vibrating, twitching lips.
The great jiggling mass of her alabaster flesh was scarcely contained by her scanty garments. She wore an exciting black costume, one that would meet the requirements of her meeting with her "Bondage Boutique" group, due to be held that very evening.
At the thought of that meeting all of the juices in her huge and wild pussy cave began to stir into churning and spilling action. The whipping, the bondage, the dark and evil domination. It was the evil spice that she lived for, a vile and bitter nectar that sustained her selfish and heartless existence.
She let her flesh quiver and shake within the exciting confines of her costume. Her mid-section was crushed in the wasp-waisted embrace of a shiny, black leather corset, pinching her waist in to an incredible degree. Her huge, bouncing, and big nippled breasts were emphasized and highlighted in all their glory by the constricting action of the corset, which set off the great sweep of her upper torso above the crushed in smallness of the bound waist. Long, pencil-thin garter straps deliciously coursed over the flawless white smoothness of the flaring hips. They anchored to the stretched tops of gossamer sheer black hose. The well proportioned and heavy arms were encased from fingertip to armpit in gleaming, elegant black kid gloves, so agonizingly tight that she was able to grasp the quirt only with extreme difficulty.
"Ou, Madame, why deed you do zat. Colette hasn't had time to be a naughty bitch yet thees morning."
"Because I damn well felt like it, my little wild French slut."
Colette, who had been leaning over making the baroness' bed, sucking and kissing the sheets where her ass had rested, cried and straightened up, rubbing the lush and well striped mounds of her pert little ass. Cream came welling up out of her cunt as she ran her fingers over the whip marks.
"Come on, my wild little bitch. There are things that need to be done if my meeting is going to be a success. So get your lovely little ass to work."
Colette ran her hands under her short black micro-mini skirt. She rubbed the bloody lacerations on her ass, trembling with sexual desire. Her pussy cleft mashed and vised the long black rubber dildo that had been wedged up into her wild bitch's hole.
The sight of her mistress in front of the mirror, fondling her curves as she tantalizingly slithered her body about in its costume, was too much for Colette to bear. Knowing the wrath that was certain to befall her, but not caring, she moved close to her beloved mistress, the hot oil boiling in her pit.
She mashed her naked breasts into the back of her mistress, mashing them flat. She licked the shoulder blades and ivory white shoulders, breathing in the rich perfume as she allowed her saliva to dribble down the Baroness' back. She swept her hands freely and unrestrainedly over the buttocks of her mistress, pinching and poking, kneading and mashing, despite the rate that would descend upon her. Without permission she ran her hands around the white hips, grooving and creasing the white richness as her hands traveled.
Baroness Melichamp's great buttocks ground together, rolling in magnificent unison. The garter straps alternately tightened and sank into the creamy white meat, then loosened and let it ripple and wave freely.
"What do you think you are doing, my dear?"
Baroness Melichamp rolled her buttocks and her back into the body of the maid, her own hands coming back to play with the whore's wild meat.
Her buttocks striped with a hideous pattern of crisscrossing red weals covering the span of the cheeks and running down the whiteness of her thighs. The maid reached around to sink both hands into the great massive teats. She kneaded and rolled them, cupping her hands under them and then shoving them up into the big melons literally buried out of sight.
"Oh Colette, you're so insatiable, so foolish," the Baroness sighed, letting her hands rip and tear at the weals on her maids ass. "You know that I'll have to punish and torture you for this. Its happened so many times that your buttocks are a mass of scars."
Tweaking the big nipples into instant, red- hot erection, the maid said, "I would willingly let you cover my bodee with scars, just for the opportunity to kiss you and touch you... you know where." Colette panted as she lifted the gigantic melons, licking them as they bounced liquidly up and down like the undulating sea.
"Oh yes, you little bitch, I know where you want to kiss me. I know where all right."
Saying this, the baroness sank her hands into the melons of her maid, pulling and rending the white meat, until she was separating handfuls of the pliable and rubbery stuff from the body the two tits bounced and rolled upon.
Sighing with the temptation to let her maid feast upon her, the baroness nevertheless decided to uphold discipline. In addition, the desire to inflict pain and punishment was now strong, and it gripped her with an urgency that she could not deny, or turn aside. Even though her orgasming hot hole was filling up with the fluids to overflowing, the Baroness knew that she had to maintain her authority above all else, even her own bodily demands.
Colette cried out in anguish as her mistress broke free of her flesh sucking and kissing embrace, and secured some lengths of rope with which to begin the torture.
"Now, my little pet, we shall see how you fare against the penalties I devise for you."
Colette whimpered with dread, as the hands of her mistress raked her flesh, the gloved fingers sinking in with cruel violence.
"Kneel on the bed, with your hands down between your ankles," the evil eyed baroness snarled.
She gave her maid a kick between her bouncing and undulating buttocks. The flesh showed where the cruel pointed boot had sank into it.
The terrified maid obeyed, and with the expertise of long and practiced experience, the baroness bound her, making the ropes tight enough to leave marks that would be visible for days on the body of the unfortunate maid. She was finding more torture, rather than the pleasant reward of sucking her mistress' hot cunt.
The baroness stepped back and regarded with satisfaction the inviting target, the lush white ass melons heaped up, humped high in the air quivering and rolling, waiting in terror for the work of her hand upon them.
The baroness selected a weapon. She selected her spike tipped quirt, and her face twisted into an expression of maniacal rage as she flexed it in her hand, against the resistance of her heavy glove.
With lightning speed, the baroness' gloved hand flashed, and the whip sprang forward to rip open the rotund and delectable ass. The cries of the maid filled the room as the needle sharp spikes sank into the lacerated bottom, which ripped and tore under the sting of the whip. Again and again the quirt fanged and ripped the buttocks with the needle sharp spikes.
Colette writhed under the fiery pain. Her face was a study in terror and suffering. Her twitching tail shed a rain of blood as the spikes tore it to shreds.
"Bleed, you bitch, bleed."
"Mercy, mercy, you're killing me. Aiieee. My bottom, my bodee, you are destroying eet."
"You said that you would bleed for me if I wanted you to," the baroness gloated. "Now, let your flesh rip and tear for my pleasure."
The baroness whipped the ass to pieces. She made the flayed and shredded buttocks tear and pour off the scarlet flood until it was no longer possible to find any meat left to lacerate.
Colette's relief that her suffering had ended was short lived. With a snarl of animal hatred and bloodlust, the baroness dragged her maid off the bed and began to stomp upon her ass. She sank her feet into the soft buttocks, digging her heels down into the wounds, butchering them and spilling all of the maid's blood from the ghastly and gory wounds. She dug her spike tip heels into the wounded flesh, sinking and drilling into the lacerations to drive her boot along the wound from one end to the other and back again.
With a measured animal ferocity she slowly and thoroughly ripped every wound apart, tearing the flesh to ribbons.
"Aieeeeee. You're keeling meee."
"Be silent or I might kill you, French slave bitch. Dirty scum."
Finally tiring of this action of cruelty, the baroness went over to her dresser and secured some more rope. She whipped the soft breasts and the firm belly of her maid with it, leaving red angry slash streaks on the white flesh.
"No more. I cannot take eet. Sacre."
"Talk English in my house, you dirty little stupid peasant. Be honored to find suffering at my royal hand. Do not make the mistake of angering me."
The girl thought that she was in enough trouble, and so she kept silent.
The baroness pinched and abused the body of her maid. She bit into the breast nipple pellets, sinking her teeth into the soft material as she pinched and pulled at the heavy teats.
She rolled the breasts from side to side, mashing them into one heavy package of flesh as she rolled and heaved the breasts, piling them together, and then moving them with ever greater force, and speed, until she was making the vibrating breasts shake as if they were going to fly off into orbit.
"Your tits are becoming hot, my little whore," the baroness gloated, with a smirk on her wicked face. "Your pussy hole is just squirting out all of the hot cunt juice."
"I cannot help eet."
"I know that you can't. I'm glad that you're so excited, my wicked little pet."
When she was satisfied with this torment, she raised her maid a bit and wrapped the rope she had secured around the upper torso. She wrapped it around the tits, the upper arms, the belly and the ribcage. She drew it tight, sinking the harsh hemp into the tender white flesh. She knotted firmly in the cleavage, and then she sank into the tender globes, making the dark bands of marking she would leave in the body so pronounced that surely the marks would be visible for weeks.
Taking turns around the waist and the arms, and pulling the ropes as tight as possible the baroness stepped back and admired her work.
"Very good. But now I have to make haste. That grocery boy will be coming around any time now. I want to be ready to receive him. I think it will be safe to leave you right where you are, my little slave."
Looking at her naked body in the mirror as she opened and closed her pussy, sucked on her own huge nipples, and finger-fucked herself, the Baroness decided that she should wear something in order not to frighten the poor boy to death before she could use his gorgeous body. She would scare the shit out of him, if she let him see her immediately in the naked condition she was in.
From her closet she selected a diaphanous black negligee, so sheer and thin that it did nothing at all to conceal the outlined curves and soft swells of her massively fleshed body. She creamed off her hot pussy pit right through the soft black stuff, licking her tongue over her lips as she murmured words and phrases of love to herself.
"The boy will be so thrilled with me that he will have an ejaculation on his pants." She laughed at the thought, remembering the reactions of other lucky young lads who had beheld the wonder of her huge body.
In her closet was a vast array of instruments of torture and weapons for punishment. She wondered if it might not be enjoyable to use some upon this boy.
But it was too soon to think of that. She thought of the Anderson boy, Little Robert. The way she had hung him by the wrists while she had whipped his chest raw. And after that, the weights she had dangled from his cock. How he had screamed.
The father had been a real bother. Threatening to have her thrown in prison for abusing his son. And then demanding money from her. Of course, once she had built up that case of tax fraud against him, amassing the evidence with the help of some of her loyal and devoted slaves, it had been easy to turn the tables on him. In the end, it had been the father's ass she had skinned.
But why should she not initiate the boy today? She would have her pleasures. She selected a wicked looking braided whip that had four rawhide straps attached to the end.
"This will do the trick nicely enough," she said aloud, swishing the whip through the air.
Suddenly, she saw the time. It was getting late, and soon the boy would show up. She would have to be ready for him.
"Oh my goodness, my gloves are terribly soiled." Indeed her gloves were soiled, soiled with the bloodstains of the pathetic Colette. "That horrible girl has bled all over my lovely gloves. I can't wash them, it would ruin them. Well, I shall just have to don a new pair. Bother, bother, bother. Problems all of the time."
In a box on the top shelf of her closet was a stock of black kid gloves. She selected a pair and peeled off the uncomfortably tight gloves that she had on. She began to press the new pair up her arms, inch by resistant inch. The gloves were tight, and they were not going to slide easily up her arms. They strenuously repelled her efforts.
Anointing her arms with oil and with powder, she began to slide the non-supple gloves up. But still it took her all of ten minutes to get the first glove up her arm.
The doorbell rang. She felt a tremor in her honey pot. She knew that it was the grocery boy with his delivery. She thought of his cock, and her juices stirred.
She thought of the huge bulge at the front of his skin tight pants. How he had squirmed when he found her looking at that lump the last time he had been there. Was it real or was it an effect he put on for the benefit of his schoolmates? Well, she intended to find out.
She stood ten feet or so from the door, struggling with the second glove, letting her bobbing tits swing free out of her negligee and bounce around so that he could get a good view. She rippled and bounced all of her flesh around, so flimsily concealed by the negligee, and she called out, "Come in child, the door isn't locked."
He came in, and then he gasped as he caught sight of the wild set of knockers staring right at him. The huge brown nipples spanning fully one third of the gigantic breasts, nipples as long as fingers when fully erect and hard. The boy's astonished eyes wandered freely over the baroness' fantastic curves.
His face turned crimson and he dropped his load of groceries, as he stammered, "O-Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare at y-you."
"Oh, don't be silly Johnny. You wouldn't be normal if you didn't stare at my tits and my hairy cunt. But I am old enough to be your mother. Don't you think so?"
She opened up her negligee and shook all of her wild mass of flesh at him, letting her tits bounce as if they were going to shake loose.
"My mother never looked like that," he said, his face so red that he could have been mistaken for an Indian. He was shaking from head to toe, and his knees were knocking together.
"Don't you think that I have a fantastic build for a woman my age. Am I better looking than your mother, for example, Johnny?"
"M-my mother is fat," he stammered.
She laughed, her breasts jiggling. "Don't you think that I'm fat Johnny," she said, clutching up handfuls of her belly flesh and shaking them at him as she rolled her hips sinuously from side to side.
His knees rattled as he stared at her, trembling with excitement. She was now slipping fingers in and out of her creaming pussy hole. He had never seen a real up close cunt in his life, let alone such a fantastic hunk of pussy meat, and a piece of fabulous cunt flesh being finger fucked by a wild sex bomb as well. It was all too much for him.
"You must have the biggest fucking tits in the world," he said, "But you're certainly not fat."
It was what she had been waiting for, her opening. "In all of my life nobody has ever said such a fucking crude thing to me," she shrieked as she sprang at him, claws reaching out for his neck. She slapped him on the side of the face, spilling him backwards, astonished at her reaction and her strength.
She threw herself on top of him, pinning his shoulders to the floor, straddling him and pounding him down. Her silken knees held him in, and the huge gourds of her tits flopped wildly, inches from his hungry face.
"I'm going to teach you a lesson, you dirty minded little bastard."
"What will you do?"
"I'm going to report this to your parents and to Mister Grimsby," she snapped, bending forward to bounce her jugs upon his shocking face.
His eyes filled with tears, and his voice became choked and penitent.
"You can't tell Mr. Grimsby, please don't do it, please don't, Baroness."
"And why not," she snarled at him.
"Oh, please. I need this job. My father's dead and my mother's sick. I need the money. Don't do it, I beg of you."
She smiled down at him, knowing that she had him. She flopped and rolled her great teats over his face, bouncing the jugs off his mouth. He was almost sick with the nearness of her great melons.
The sight and the touch of her great white mounds caused him, despite his predicament, to get a huge boner in the front of his pants. The Baroness thrilled to the touch of his rampant and hard cock pressing against the front of her negligee thru his pants.
"Perhaps I might be merciful, but you do deserve a punishment. How could I let you off."
"You won't make me lose my job, will you?"
"I can't let that happen, but you still must pay for your transgression," she cooed, wiping her jugs across his wet and frothy lips.
Her tits were not erect and distended, her nipples all blossomed out, and a dark shade of purple brown, the peaks upon them quivering with excitement.
"What shall we do," she prodded him.
"What shall we do about your punishment."
"Could you punish me," he ventured in a tremulous voice.
She laughed, a cruel laugh, full of open triumph and supreme malevolence. She had forced him into it, and he himself had made the suggestion. She had him now, the little soft baby was hers.
"What an excellent idea. Let's get onto it right away. First we must remove your jeans so that they're not soiled by the punishment. And also by your excitement, if you know what I mean."
With a leering smirk, she stripped the boy stark naked, almost making him come off from the strain. Kneeling before him, she started with his jeans. As she expertly worked them down his legs, she saw to her satisfaction that indeed, the boy was the genuine article.
His cock stood up hard and true, straining to burst through the front of his pants and pounce upon her available pussy. It was a temptation to take him right then, but she restrained herself, letting her sadistic instincts triumph, as they had when she had been disciplining her maid. First she must brutalize him, and then she could find her pleasure with his exquisite young boy's body.
She ran her hands up and down his legs. He shivered in fascination and terror, his body beginning to sweat up under the prodding of her hands.
She showed him her whip, and he knew that she meant business. The sight of the four thonged whip filled him with quaking dread. Her face was Satanic, the mouth twisted up into a cruel parody of a smile. Her hands cupped his balls, and he almost lost his erection when she shook the whip at him, making him literally shake in his shoes.
She shrugged the negligee off, her own flesh sheened by a light, frothy dew of sweat. She brushed her hot skin into his, rustling the silken skin upon his flesh so that his teeth chattered and his knees trembled.
"What ails you boy? Someone would think that you had never been near a naked woman before."
"I--I n-never have, baroness."
She clapped her hands to her face in shocked disbelief.
"A virgin, in this day and age?"
"Y-yes, I am," he stammered, his eyes falling to the floor in shame.
"Well, I seem to have found something very unusual. Now come along, my young boy. I have to punish that spicy and disrespectful body of yours."
She dragged him over to the couch, her body still moving and brushing against his. She socked it to him, her fleeced cunt mound rolling upon the slope of his hip.
"Kneel on the couch," she demanded. "I want to spank that wonderful little ass of yours."
She pushed him down next to her, pulling him across her lap so that the tip of her tit brushed his face. As he gasped, she shoved her swollen and gigantic nipple into his mouth. He spewed up spit upon it, the saliva rolling in a stream down her tit as he gagged in shock and sheer embarrassed fear upon her hot nipple, which threatened to erupt into flames in his mouth.
"Why do you pull back, Johnny?"
"I'm sorry, mistress. I-It won't happen again."
She laughed, cramming his face into the slightly moist depth of her vast cleavage. "There's nothing wrong with a little nursing Johnny. That's why some women have large breasts, so that they may be sucked."
She stuffed her big nipple into his mouth. She guided it in, and moved it around inside his mouth, the sharply pointed nipple now as hot as a hardon cock. She mashed the whole glove into his face, sinking his head into the vast bulk of the boob, and stroking fire into his groin with the play of one of her hands.
"Don't be afraid, Johnny. Fill up your mouth with my delicious tit and suck on it. Bite into it, just sink your teeth in along the perimeter of the nipple, and gnaw it around inside your mouth. Enjoy yourself with it until you can't stand any more of it, and then go to the twin and suck on that one. Eat all of the tit you want, and think about all the girls in your school that you ever wanted to sink your cock into. Think about all of the girls with big tits that you wanted to play with. Suck my tits and think of them, you little wild bastard of a child."
So, as the baroness began a steady, rhythmical rat-tat-tat on the grocery boy's hard little ass, he nursed on the swollen nipple, the heat of it boiling the inside of his mouth.
Up and down her gloved hand fell on his hard little rump. His cock shook and trembled with the vibrations of her blows which descended relentlessly and remorselessly on his tight ass.
His bottom took on a hue of ever darkening scarlet as she spanked him. She swept up and down from the small of his back to the midthighs, hitting and hitting, making his flesh shake and tremble, the buttocks undulating wildly, as he nursed at her twin tits with biting, savage teeth.
She hit him until his bottom was all one shade of deep red. Then she went traveling up and down the sweep of his back, all of the way to the muscular shoulders, and then down again, striking fire into his body.
"I'm going to spank your little soft bottom off, my boy. I'm going to make your ass hurt you for a month, you little bastard."
"Yes, yes, do it to me."
She did it to him. Knowing the way that she was warping his sex identity and his desires, whipping pain into him. She beat on the ass until it convulsed under the hammering might of her leather gloved hands.
He sucked at her nipples, dragging the huge filled out rippling and pliable fingers of hot membrane in and out of his mouth. He sawed and gnawed all along the nipples with his teeth, his fingers moving along the fleece of her pussy bush.
His fingers began to probe and explore at the mass of the vulva lips. In and out, in and out his fingers moved, reaming and creaming out her hot hole. His fingers trembled with the hot moisture that he felt spurt along his throbbing fingers. He was in ecstasy, his thing hot and stiff that it was ready to spurt at the slightest touch.
When she had finished the beating of his ass, she ran her hands along his body. She pinched up and tugged at handfuls of his ass, cracking and beating him some more on his big bottom.
(' She began to kick his ass, her spike tipped foot sinking deep into the tender and reddened tissues.
"Do you like being kicked in the ass boy?"
"Eaaah... You're hurting me. Oh, my ass burns so bad. Ouch. Stop it. Please."
"You wanted this, you little punk, and now you're going to get it. All of it."
Later, completely aroused by the way the boy had worshipped and sucked her big nipples, she forced him down to his knees and began to lay upon him with the whip. She spread out the red flushed skin and dug deep down into it, forcing him to experience still more anguish and suffering. His body trembled under her touch, and the thrill of making him fear her caused her quim to generate the hot flow of pussy juice once more.
She had him kneel on the edge of the couch, facing the rear. She tugged his arms up behind his back and bound them, making the ropes sink deep into his skin, hurting him some more. She rubbed off her fevered body upon his back, the tremors of his body in reaction to the touch of her silken skin inspiring her with still more desire to use and abuse this young and virginal victim.
His cock was thumping in rapid fire palpitations, the tip as red as a beet, swollen and extended so that the thing was almost about to burst apart from the uncontrollable excitement the boy felt. The woman was too much for him, and she knew it. Her ruthless hands continued to play at him, brushing everywhere but at the point where his suffering would be relieved.
She let the whip uncoil behind her, snaking and winding along the floor, a living thing about to tear and rip the boy's flesh. She stared at the muscled tension of his back, the slim and trembling waist, the quaking rump cakes. She let the whip run over his skin, coiling it upon his shoulders, letting it hang down upon his chest.
Then she lunged forward, the leather whip whistling as it sliced through the air, cutting into his back with a loud, exploding crack.
Forgotten was the heavy and full cock that waited for her. She wanted his blood, nothing less would satisfy her. She flailed out at him, the four biting lashes tearing his back to bits.
"I'll whip you to pieces, you dirty little boy. I'll show you what it means to want me."
Her voice irrational and terrifying, her words a babble of hateful nonsense, she tore at him again and again, her whip slashing his body to pieces. She lashed him from his shoulders to the rump, hitting him at determined spots, equal distance from one another, a pattern of butchering blows running along his back line to the tail. Then she traveled back up his back once more, the bite of the whip tearing through his body as sharp and tearing as the slash of a knife.
She went to work on his welted buttocks, hitting them again and again. She swept over the expanse of his ass, striking fire into him. She flogged his buttocks until the blood oozed from his lacerated ass tissues, and spattered on the walls from the striking sweep of the four lash tips.
"Aiieeee, you're killing me," he shrieked. "In the name of mercy--owwwww--stop iiitt."
She laughed at his complaints, all of the wild and lush mass of her flesh, rippling and rolling, melon breasts bobbing, ass creasing and pumping. She played with her pit of fire, stroking up a new series of juice spurting reactions within her hole.
"Foolish boy, I'll flay the skin off your body with this whip if I so desire."
Saying this, she lashed out at him with renewed fire and force. Her whip coiled around his body, tearing and fanging his white and smooth chest. She slashed down lower, cracking leather upon the span of his belly. His body quivered and shook in its bondage, her wild fury literally lashing him to pieces.
Soon her craving to get at his manhood overcame her sadistic impulses to inflict still more punishment upon him. She put out her hands and cupped the tight mass of his balls, his body beginning to twitch once more and his palpitating manhood standing up erect in response to her penetrating touch all along the length of his inflamed shaft.
"You really do want it, don't you baby?"
"Yes, yes, oh I can't stand it. Aiieeee. The pain, my back is- torn apart. I'm bleeding everywhere."
"Not everywhere baby. But I'm going to make you explode in a few more minutes. I'm going to do all of the things you've ever dreamed about to you."
She laid him out on the couch with his rampant and upright manhood projected up at the ceiling, ready to burst. She stroked her hands along it again, driving him to the point of sexual frenzy. Saliva flowed from his mouth as he pumped his bloody ass about on the couch. The feel of her black leather gloves was the most maddening part of the whole thing, and she drove him wild, taunting and playing with him.
"Do you want it, dummy?"
He couldn't stand any more of her teasing. His body was about to burst. "Yes, yes, please, please."
She coiled one gloved hand around his big piece of hot salami. She played with the meat, running her hand back and forth along the palpitating, quivering length of burning sex flesh. He dribbled at the mouth in reaction to her hands and the intense pain he still suffered. She played his balls about in the gloved cup of her other hand, mashing them, kneading and tickling. She bounced them, finger scratched them, ran his skin through her fingers. He began to tremble without control, his body sheened in sweat.
She fanned a flame in him that could not be controlled. She made his cock explode, his long and quivering rod spurting out gobs of hot fluid which she caught in her cunning hands.
Noting he was going into orgasm, the baroness was on him with a wild cry. She buried one swollen, gigantic nipple once more in his mouth, mashing his face into the rich foamy softness of the tit as she handjerked his thing off with both hands in frenzied action. She buried his face in the depths of her vast breast, shoving it deep into the rocking, quaking mass of tit meat.
She caught his shooting manhood as it spurted and rammed it into her pussy cave. She trapped it, crushed it with the vise of her cunt. He screamed and shook as she wrapped arms and legs about him and sawed him into the richness of her massive body, smothering him in her white alabaster bulk. He kept on coming, and she held him in, locking him in place even after he had come, and forcing him to come again and again, working his body through one orgasm after another.
He was content to fuck away at her, although it was her powerful body that was in fact fucking him. He was lost in the great expanse of white meat, and her hands clawing and ripping the wounds on his back stimulated him to ever greater efforts and results.
She created, with her gloved jerkoff hands and her lashing whip, a fetish for leather in the boy that would stay with him for the rest of his life.
As he dragged the drained and exhausted shell of his body out of the house, she shoved a ten dollar bill into his back pocket, raking his still bloody rump with her violent and cruel hands.
"A little tip for you, for being an exceptionally astute and hardworking delivery boy."
Joyce Wortham was thinking of the wild and bizarre orgy to come at Torture Boutique. It was an addiction with her, the need to experience ever greater and more degrading torture and domination. It was a growing cancer, a disease that she could not, and would not combat.
But it was an expensive habit, and growing ever more expensive. The price now was fifty dollars a session. Not a small amount of money for a mere secretary. Still, any price was worthwhile if it allowed her to be near the baroness. The mere thought of the Baroness was enough to make her pussy hole overflow with hot liquid.
Spreading her legs, she allowed her pussy pit to slosh open, the cream running out into the curly wild growth of her cunt bush. She had a gigantic mass of blonde hair down at her beaver patch, and it was all golden blonde growth, allowing her hot velvet clit hole opening to show up dark and inviting when she allowed men to look into her pantyless pussy cave.
But she had a problem, she had no partner for that night. Her regular partner, Joe Marconi, had come down with a case of the clap. The bastard had picked a poor time to allow his frenzied sex grind to catch up with him. It was part of the Boutique's rules that every cunt had to bring along a pecker with her. Which left her the problem of finding a cock swinger to take along at the last minute.
Perhaps there was something she could snatch at the office before she left. That seemed to be her best bet. A lot of hungry looking pecker carriers at her office, always wanting a sniff and a taste of her bouncing little tail. There should be the action she needed, if she was clever about it. She could offer her snatch as bait, and then snare her man the rest of the way into the wild scene with the promise of the orgy.
"I like the shade of the hose you're wearing, Miss Wortham." It was the voice of her new boss, Mr. Conklin interrupting her chain of thoughts. "There's something especially beautiful about black hose on an exquisite woman."
She looked up at her boss. He was new with the firm, but she had caught his eye running up and down her free and unrestricted body ever since he had first caught sight of her, that first day he had begun at the firm. He had found his thing going erect in his pants at the sight of the secretary notorious for never wearing anything under her skirt, and she had caught the gleam in his eyes and the stiffness in his pants.
She had considered strapping him one ever since. Well, now was the best possible time. She needed a partner, and here was opportunity knocking. She had her man, if she played it the right way.
He was thirty-five or so, blond and handsome, with the face of a New York stud, his sideburns fashionably long. He looked like an uncomplicated stud type, a fucker who would take in hand any free action that came his way. He would go along with the orgy bit, she was sure of that. He might even get into the domination scene. That would be super groovy, having another one right there in the office with her. Nothing could be handier for her purposes.
"Oh, it isn't unusual today, Mr. Conklin," she smiled, raising one shapely nylon-sheathed limb languorously and crossing it over the other one, causing her micro-miniskirt to hike up to her shapely lap, revealing her charms to his rapt and astonished gaze. "A few years ago I only wore them in my bedroom to please my boyfriends, but now all of the girls wear them."
"B-but not as charmingly as you wear them, my dear," he gasped, the sweat beginning to spread across his forehead and beads and drippings. "I also notice that you aren't wearing any panties."
"That is a bit more unusual," she conceded. "Most girls still wear panties, but I find them so constricting, they don't allow me to express myself." She smoothed her skirt up, slithering it up to her waist, letting him get a good view of her fully exposed gash. "Do you see what I mean by expressing myself, Mr. Conklin?"
She allowed her gash to split open, the vermillion slash peering out at him from the flowering tangle of her golden fleece. She let her flesh ripple and heave, running a series of contractions and slithering bumps and heaves through her wild legs.
It was a move designed to make her cool boss blow the last vestiges of his calm. He was choking on his own Adam's apple now, his chest heaving, face red and sweat stained. He ran his hand through his hair, loosening his tie.
His reaction came even quicker than she had expected. He sprang at her, eyes wild with the desires she had sparked and then ignited in him. He opened up his pants and let his huge erection leap out at her, ready to penetrate her wild bitch's box.
"I am impressed," she gasped, sliding the skirt up to her belly, and spreading her bush open all of the way, milking the juice out of the slot with her hands to get the pit ready for his entrance.
He tore off her clothes, stripping her down to her stilt-heeled pumps almost before she knew what had happened. His hands pumped and primed her big tits, and he caressed the head of his enlarged cock against her hair pelt.
Laying her out on a handy couch, he stripped down to his shorts and socks, and climbed on top of the heaving, eager body. He shoved his cock deep into the warm and inviting gash, a tit squeezed tight into each hand, pumping and kneading the big breasts as he lunged and bucked upon the mare.
"I usually take a little more time getting acquainted," he gasped as he pumped forcefully away, a big naked tit clutched in each of his big hands.
"How about coming home with me where we can become better and even more intimately acquainted," she ventured, biting into his earlobe.
He took up her gambit, and she knew as he fucked her with a wild abandon, buried deep in the fine meat, that she had him for the Torture Boutique. A little more first rate fucking and sucking and he would follow her anywhere that she chose to lead.
That evening at her apartment, he became even more intimately knowledgeable of her wonderful, shapely body. She sucked every inch of his body, her tongue sloshing wet and hot over his skin. She thrust fingers up his ass and reamed out his anus while she sucked his cock. She took it all of the way down into her throat, sawing and pumping it back and forth, lodging it in the depths of her throat as she kept on giving him head.
She had been so anxious to get at him that she had merely dropped his shorts before taking the cock deep into her hungry mouth. Her hands mashed and cupped his balls, filling his nuts full and then drained from him in great drinking, sucking doses.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. When it was insistent and would not cease, Joyce rose to answer it while her boss hastily stuffed his cock back into his shorts and cursed the intrusion. He wondered what the hell it could be.
Joyce's face brightened when she answered the door to find standing there a ravishing brunette, her hair brushed back and her tits bursting out of her bra-less blouse. Her legs were nervously meshing and rubbing together, and the brunette thrust out her hand and shoved fingers up into the blonde Joyce's pussy hole before even exchanging a word of greeting.
"Joyce baby, I'm so horny that I can hardly stand it. You've got to help me out."
"Come in honey," Joyce said. "I have just the thing you need in here with me." She made handjacking motions with her closed fist, letting the overjoyed girl know that Joyce had a man in there with her, a well-hung stud.
The brunette smirked when she saw Mr. Conklin, his cock hastily stuffed back into his pants.
"I see that I'm interrupting something. Well, I don't wish to spoil anybody's party. In fact, I'll join your little party. Two is a fuck, and three is an orgy."
"This is my partner for tonight," Joyce explained, as Mr. Conklin, for the first time, surmised the type of secretary he had, and the action she had planned for them that evening. Well, he was willing. He licked his lips as she talked, his eyes roaming over the new girl.
"Why not make it a threesome of the best," the girl said. "We'll go to the party as a trio. That should be a real kick. What do you say?"
"What happened to your guy, Fred," Joyce asked. "I thought he was reliable."
"Would you believe that he has the clap." Joyce guffawed, holding onto her sides to keep from coming apart with laughter. "This is too much to be true. My guy also has the same problem. That's why I had to find a replacement in one hell of a hurry."
The brunette clapped her hand to her forehead in disbelief. "That is one hell of a coincidence. In fact, it's too much of a coincidence. It makes me wonder just what the hell those two assholes have been up to."
"Do you mean with a girl, or with each other?"
"It wouldn't surprise me," the brunette said. "My Fred is capable of just about any kind of shit. I'm going to have a long talk with that tender ass of his the next time that I see him."
Mr. Conklin had been unable to follow the entire conversation, some of it going past him, but he now knew that he was tied in with a pair of sexual weirdos. Well, it might be interesting.
"What kind of a party are we going to?" he asked.
"The kind that you don't find everyday," Joyce answered. "I'm sure that you won't be disappointed," she said, beginning once more to play with herself.
"Let's show him what he can look forward to," the brunette said.
"Good," Joyce sighed. "I've been looking forward to eating you all day."
Joyce and her boss undressed the brunette, the boss letting his hands roam and travel all over her body. She certainly was stacked, as well built as Joyce.
Shortly, Joyce lay on her back while the brunette sat on her breasts, her head caught in the silken vise of Joyce's thighs, while Joyce peeled down the brunette's panties and licked her lips, at the sight of the ripe, delicious pussy. Mr. Conklin's lips were fused to those of the brunette as he handled her big thrusting tits with wild abandon.
After an hour of sheer, unadulterated sex, the girls decided to give him a further preview of what he could expect to see that night. As their bodies mashed and rolled in wild embrace, hands digging at all of the ripe and wet sex meat, the two girls whispered together and decided to put on a little show of bondage for Mr. Conklin.
Joyce's arms and legs were tied, and then she lay on top of the brunette, their enormous breasts rubbing and thrashing together.
Their heads dipped into the masses of white breast meat that each of them was the proud possessor of, and their teeth bit patterns of bite wounds into lush flesh.
"I have a feeling that I'm going to enjoy myself tonight," Mr. Conklin said as he watched them work at each other, hips and thighs grinding, heads bobbing and biting. He felt the stirrings in his groin and his old faithful began to rear up again, strong and eager. He considered jumping the two of them and slipping it into first one hole and then the other, but he decided to save it for the freaky party they were bound for.
The two girls went at each other hot and heavy. Teeth sank into alabaster ivory meat, spurting pussy pits rolled and writhed, one atop the other, as the floppy vulva lips burned with sex fire.
Lovely Joyce had her butt spanked, the brunette laying on with both hands, pounding red hot hurt into the twin hemispheres which rolled and swayed, heaved and pumped, under the prodding of the hands.
"Sock it to her," Mr. Conklin shouted.
"You give her some," urged the brunette, offering him a hunk of rich and foamy ass cheek.
Mr. Conklin needed no further urgings. He buried his hard hands in the mattress of white ass globe, letting all of his strength go into every blow. He soon had the twin spheres pounded to a shade of bright red, and the lovely Joyce heaved and spasmed, dreaming of the baroness, laying on the punishment with brutal force. She orgasmed and climaxed, anticipating the pain to come that night at the relentless and harsh hands of the baroness.
PART TWO
The meeting of Torture Boutique was in full swing. Regal and dominating, a figure of devotion and terror, the Baroness Melichamp sat in the center of all the activity, a queen surrounded by fawning vassals. She sat on a massive, ornate throne, in a chamber that had been fitted out in authentic detail to resemble a medieval torture chamber. A brunette lay at her feet, licking the boots of the baroness with total servile dedication, her tongue never ceasing to swish out and cover the sweep of the black leather boots.
The room was filled with all of the instruments of torture. Racks, windlasses, wheels, iron maidens, every form of major torture apparatus could be found in this temple of pain. The room was made more sinister and foreboding by the flickering light cast by torches that were fitted to ornate brackets in the walls.
The baroness surveyed her domain, filled with her devoted and slavish admirers. She sneered with a total and callous contempt for all of them, nudging the body of the girl who licked her boots.
Except for the mask that covered her face, and the boots that rose to mid thigh, embracing her sensual limbs in tight black leather, she was garbed as she had been that morning, thrilling them all with the sight of her body bound in the black leather and flimsy black lacy material.
She looked down at the girl licking her boots. The brunette was kissing and licking the boots in erotic pleasure, her face fixed in hypnotic delirium. Even this devotion was not enough for the cruel baroness.
Baroness Melichamp uncoiled her gloved arm and let the long bullwhip snake out, cracking it along the cold stone floor, sending some of her slaves scampering in quaking fear. She then lashed out with it at the girl licking her boots, cutting through the black nylons on the brunette slave's shapely calves, cutting open the flesh below the kiss of the nylon hose. Blood stained the smooth and silken skin.
"Show some enthusiasm for your task, or I'll strip the flesh from your bones. I want these boots so highly polished that I can see my reflection in them as clearly as in a mirror."
This tirade was grossly unfair. The boots were already so shiny from the constant licking of the slave girl that they clearly reflected the sight of the whimpering, cowering slave girl. But the baroness merely wanted an excuse to vent her cruel wrath upon the girl.
She smiled with evil satisfaction as the girl went at her boot with renewed vigor. At fifty dollars a head, it was still amazing to her that she could command such devoted and stupid slavish fawning supplication from these stupid assholes.
But it was this that kept her in leather and in groceries. It enabled her to maintain her estate, doing what she loved the best, and collecting royally for it. Looking them over, it was apparent to her that they lived merely to satisfy her every whim, and to pay her dearly for it.
She thought of the things that she loved. Her wardrobe, the tight pinching corsets, the tight panties with the insert plugs for cunt and asshole. She rubbed her legs together in satisfaction thinking of these things. And all of it paid for by these fools. Her whips, her implements of pain, her masks and her chariot that was drawn by human steeds. Her maid, Colette, that expensive and servile little masochist bitch. All of this cost her money, and these clowns were the source of that wealth.
When her boots were so shiny that further hours of licking would not improve the mirror-like quality, she kicked the slave girl away and stood up, looking down with pride at her sleek legs, encased in the tight stinging clutch of black leather.
"Not bad, you bitch." For a reward she lashed out, cutting patterns in the back of the girl with her bullwhip. The tender skin split and tore under the crashing impact of the heavy bullwhip, the blood flying. She tore open the wealed and lacerated ass globes, ripping the panties that barely concealed the girl's body to shreds. She made the girl crawl along the floor, the whip cutting her to pieces.
Baroness Melichamp whipped a blonde slave girl tied to rings set in the wall. Her bullwhip lashed out to tear at the big, free swinging breasts.
"Aiieeeee. Mercy, mercy," the poor blonde screamed, as one nipple was gashed in half, blood spurting like wine out of a broken winebag.
"You had no permission to speak, you bitch," the baroness cried, laying on still heavier and more ruthless strokes with the whip.
She crisscrossed bloody strokes along both sides of the ribcage, overlapping the red streaks over the span of the smooth, heaving belly. She split apart the soft skin, and the blood ran down her body in waves, pooling between the thighs that were split wide to accommodate the gigantic dildo rammed up the cunt.
Her gash began to heat as she whipped the girl, and the baroness pressed the face of the servile brunette to her ass.
"Lick my ass," she commanded, giving the brunette a few cuts on the tits and the tail to stimulate her to supreme efforts.
The slaves were all in ecstasy watching their mistress in action. The baroness went back to work on the body of the bound brunette, tearing it to shreds. She tore the armpits, bloody, and then set to on the thighs. As her whip traveled along the smooth skin, it encountered the wet membrane of the gash lips. These were split and wealed, and the shrieks of the blonde were so ghastly that all of the slaves were shaken and appalled.
The other slaves began to gather around like patients in a doctor's office, all pleading for her attentions. The women were all dressed in black, skyscraper heels making them totter and stagger with every step. Most of them wore the same type of long kid gloves that the baroness wore, and some had inserts creaming out the recesses of pussy and asshole.
The men were dressed in white briefs, little more than jockstraps. Their welted bottoms were clearly discernable, the straps concealing very little of the whip patterns on their rumps. There was one white, virginal ass, unmarked by any stinging slashes of the whip. The new fish, Joyce's boss, was the only unmarked male, and he intended to stay that way. He had not known how freaky the party was going to be, and he was downright shitass scared of what was taking place around him. But it was too late to get out, some of these people were so freaked out on this whipping scene that they would jump him, a wild lynch mob, if he tried to take off.
Many of the slaves were already trapped within the tight confines of the instruments of torture. Their sweat sheened, bloodied bodies heaved and convulsed, the stench of pain arising from them mingled with the scent of sexual delirium. Many of them awaited the service of the Baroness, and they were wild with the gnawing anguish of waiting patiently for their turn to come. The baroness was fickle and uncaring, she did not grant her touch to a suffering slave until it suited her whim to do so, and she could leave a poor wretch waiting for hours before relieving the anguish.
She looked around for her favorite, Joyce. The girl had a fantastic body, a delight of white meat that never quit. It made the baroness' thighs flash with the quim cream churnings just to think of her favorite little blonde in tight, torturous bondage.
The baroness spotted her lashed to a post at the far end of the dungeon, mouth gagged. She rubbed her gloved hands together, conjuring up visions of the things she might do to the girl.
"Stay here you wretched shit, I'll return shortly."
The slaves all bowed low, obedient to her command. "Yes Baroness," they all replied slavishly.
The Baroness strolled over to Joyce, letting her hands move up and down the bound curves of the beautiful body. "Well, my dear, you look particularly alluring tonight," the baroness said to the fettered girl.
Joyce could make no reply due to the gag in her mouth, but she was ecstatic over the attention of her mistress to her. Her pussy quim began to flood with oil at the touch of the baroness' gloved hands upon her cunt mound.
The baroness hefted one huge tit into her hands. She bit into it, slicing her vampirish fangs deep into the ivory richness, until her mouth filled with blood. She pumped and twisted it, making it get hard and heavy, the heat building up in the big appendage from the thrill she imparted to every vibrating fibre of the girl's body.
"You really do dig what I do to you, don't you, my blonde wildcat?"
Unable to speak, the ecstatic girl nodded her head, drifting along with the thrill that the baroness sent coursing all through her body.
"Your tits. So big, so heavy. Almost as big as mine," the baroness said. She bounced the big boob on the palms of her hands.
The baroness began to stroke and pump the nipple. She yanked it and rolled the heavy tip between her fingers, making it swell into a gigantic red peak with the play of her gloved fingers upon it.
The baroness slipped a strand of strong rope around it, a piece of small rope little more than string in size, but very strong.
"Now we'll see how you like the feel of this, my dear."
The baroness bound the nipple within the noose of rope, sawing it as tightly as she could into the swollen nipple, tweaking the nipple into firm rigidity as she worked upon it.
"I think you'll find this to your pleasure, my little blonde bitch."
The bound and stifled beauty could not give answer to this, but her eyes filled with the wild rapture she always experienced when being tortured and abused by her beloved mistress, the baroness.
The baroness tied off the strand in a slip knot, noosing it tight around the helpless and vulnerable nipple. She pinched up the tip, playing the nipple through her fingers. The look of anguish and the expression of stirrings of mad rapture, mixed together on the face of her victim, filled her with the satisfaction that she craved. A few slaps to the face of the girl brought her to one incredible peak of excitement, and the stirrings within her flowered into orgasm.
The baroness pulled upwards, the slip-knot tightening and sinking into the turgid nipple. It was a simple form of torture, but to Joyce it was ecstasy beyond compare. The sharp little pleasure pains that knifed through her were the most thrilling she had ever experienced.
The baroness glanced back to see if any of the others were watching her. She had ordered them not to, and she was pleased to see that they were obeying her. It would not do for any of the fools to think that she had favorites, or that she was becoming attracted to any of them. But Joyce was quite irresistible, regardless of the rules that the baroness enforced upon the others and obeyed herself out of the need to exert control and order over the organization.
With a soft cry of ecstasy, she leaned down and took the fantastically swollen nipple of the girl into her mouth, nursing on it. She sucked greedily, avidly, her sharp teeth inflicting pain upon the hot little nipple. It became a long and distended wiggling, jelly-rolling appendage in her mouth, and she was astonished to find that the tit milking action of her fingers made the nipple expand and lengthen even more in her mouth.
What a fantastically elastic and pliable piece of tissue, she thought. Too bad she did not have the hours to work upon it that such a nipple deserved.
"She wants me," Joyce thought. "She's attracted to me." This was too much to believe, too good to be true. Her little cunt hole went into wild and climaxing orgasmic delirium over the knowledge that the baroness wanted her.
"You want to suck me, don't you precious?" The baroness said. "Well, maybe I'll just let you do it." She chewed the gag out of Joyce's mouth, biting into the fleshy face as she did so.
"Oh yes-s-s," Joyce moaned softly. "I must... but where... oh where... the others will see?"
The baroness thought about it. She could not let the others see the girl suck her.
"There's a new device I've recently installed. It will prevent the others from seeing you put your luscious mouth to my royal quim and suck it clean. But let's hurry, I'm dying to have you suck me clean."
She ran her hands over the soft flesh. She dug down cruelly into it, ripping and rending, all of the white flesh of the girl in palpitating, shuddering movement from the loved and worshiped actions of her mistress' hands.
She led the untied girl over to a device that consisted of a horizontal board that was topped with a vicious strip of thick steel that had saw teeth projecting from the top of it. One end was attached to a single leg, the other end to a stock, not unlike the type that the Puritans used.
"Oh wow, this is really a far out device, the living end," the luscious blonde said.
"Once you're on it, you'll know just how far out it really is."
"It's so terrifying."
"Straddle it, let your legs and breasts hang down on either side. It will hurt but I know that you will love it. If you're careful it will not leave scars."
As Joyce eagerly, yet carefully straddled the device, the baroness clamped her head in the stock and swung a hinge forward to lock it. Then she clamped Joyce's gloved hands into shackles that hung down from chains on either side.
Joyce was so hot and eager to get at the juice filled gash of the baroness that it almost proved her undoing. She began to shake and quake her bottom up and down, and suddenly she had pierced her bottom with the sharp points, which buried in the tender flesh of her tail. A wave of mind numbing pain slashed at her. The honed points of the saw tore at her flesh at crotch and cleavage, and blood began to pour down the device onto the ancient stone floor. She forced herself not to cry out, for that would have alerted the others to what was going on.
"Good girl," the baroness said. "I won't forget your courage, you little beauty."
She took the girl's face and put one great massive and joggling white teat to the mouth. She buried the whole head in the billowing foam of her hot white tit.
She hoisted the monumental teat in one hand and jammed the nipple between Joyce's eager lips. Joyce worked silently, sucking away, her mouth a suction pump draining all of the heat and the juice out of the ripe tit fruit, the big white burning melon that had been presented to her. She was thrilled beyond belief as it swelled and grew in her mouth.
"Keep on sucking away, my hot little bitch. Don't stop your sucking at my tit, keep it up, drink all of the juice right out of my tit."
The baroness fed her first one tit and then the other, stroking the hair and slapping the cheeks of the blonde girl's face as the incredible girl kept on working at her. Her own excitement mounted higher and higher with every sucking attack of the mouth upon her big nippled, massive boobs.
There was a large block of stone nearby. With amazing and colossal strength the baroness picked it up and deposited it down in front of the girl's eager face. The mouth dripped foam as the eyes surveyed the block of stone, the knowledge of what it was for almost causing the girl to damage her tail once again.
The baroness climbed upon it and her eagerly sought gash was now on eye level with the girl, the hairs curling out of the confines of the pussy that covered the baroness's crotch. The odor of her ripe and already orgasmed cunt assailed the girl, heady perfume which hit her nostrils like an ultimate aphrodisiac. The baroness seized the girl by the hair, tugged down her panties, and then shoved the girl's face right into the V of her hairy crotch, filling the mouth with pussy lips, hair, and vulva tissue. She ground and pounded her pussy meat upon the face of the girl, drawing the wet tongue deep into her vising pussy tunnel, wedging and trapping it in with a cunt so powerful that it could crush a cock flat.
"Eat me you little bitch," she whispered hoarsely. "Eat out my box like you've never eaten cunt before in your entire rotten life."
The dipping, rioting tongue rampaged in the depths of the hairy cunt. The baroness filled her mouth with the meat of her own tit to prevent an outcry. She pinched up her giant nipples and sucked on them in response and counterpoint to the wild play of the tongue in her heated pussy cave. She rolled all of her meaty crotch into the face of the girl, wishing that she could draw the entire head into the depths of her cunt.
The baroness began to come and come again, with one orgasm after another blasting through her body. She thrilled to the sound of her juices running down the throat of the girl. After a long series of multiple orgasms, she became her evil domineering self once again.
"I saw that man you came with. I'd see you privately, make you a steady item, but not to share you with any fucking man."
"Oh Baroness," pleaded the miserable girl, "You're all that I want."
"See to it that he never touches you again. Not any man, ever."
"I swear it, I'll be your devoted slave all of my life."
The baroness slapped her remorselessly, pitilessly across the mouth again and again. "See that you do as you've said, or I'll skin you alive."
She decided to leave her little blonde bitch in this predicament for a while. It would do her good.
"You don't mind my leaving you in this bondage, do you, my little Joyce?"
"No, not at all. Anything you want to do with me, I'll be more than happy to bear it."
"Good, perhaps we can make a good twosome after all, my little slut."
Joyce was hers in every way. She did not know yet what she would do with the girl, but she intended to make her a full slave. Perhaps a second maid. But that would be expensive. It would be better to keep her working for the moment, her money was helpful.
One of the girls was out of uniform, it was unbelievable, incomprehensible, but it was nevertheless true. The baroness was shocked. How could this foolish girl dare to challenge her rules.
It was Florence, a young nineteen year old blonde with outsized measurements, a big overweight girl with huge, drooping, pendulous breasts. A pair of knockers down to her knees, a real giant set of fat melons.
The girl was garbed in long, tight fitting black boots, black kid gloves up to her shoulders, and nothing more. Her arms and legs were vised within the clutching, crushing confines of tight leather, and her torso was free.
"What is the meaning of this," demanded the baroness, .seizing a tit and sinking her strong fingers into it, bruising the flesh black and blue with the cruel power of her too tight grip.
This was an affront, a challenge to her authority. Her orders had been flouted, and this had never been done to her before. She had to stamp out this streak of independence and anarchy before it spread, and with the strongest means at her command.
"What is the meaning of this," the baroness demanded once again. "How dare you wear this costume."
"Oh, but I couldn't resist it. Am I not truly beautiful in it, mistress?"
The baroness had to admit that the girl was alluring in it. The tight restraint of boots and gloves upon her limbs offset her big breasted, overfleshed torso and set it off to maximum advantage. But still, the girl had been disobedient, and that was the point.
"Am I not a desirable bitch," Florence said as she wobbled and wiggled all of her hot meat about, the great bouncing teats sheened with sweat rocking crazily on the upswing, rolling from side to side. Her ass was a wiggling, palpitating, undulating mass of white striped with red streaks and spotted with black and blue marks.
"Yes, you are a fetching piece of ass, my dear. But you have disobeyed my instructions."
The girl moved forward, impishly thrusting out her tits and rolling the great melon boobs up and down along the front of the baroness' torso. Sweat broke out on the forehead of the baroness. Under other circumstances she would have eagerly ripped into this mass of soft white tit, eating all of the tender meat on the girl's bones. But this bitch was trying to provoke her sexually and thus to dominate her with the richness of her flesh, and this the baroness could not tolerate. She would make Florence pay the ultimate penalty for this insult to her, this attempt to make the baroness her sex slave.
Grinning at her, the baroness sank her hands out of sight into the undersides of the big tits. She kneaded and yanked and pulled and poked every inch of the huge globes. Florence was in heaven, feeling the thrills of the big hands at play on her flesh. Her cunt was overflowing with cream, and it dripped down the insides of her thighs, pooling on the floor between her legs.
"You are desirable, Florence. I will take you into a corner and give you all of the attention that you deserve."
"I knew it, I knew it," Florence said, as the baroness did delightful things with her big hanging and swaying tits.
"Oh, I plan to pay particular attention to you," the baroness breathed into her ear as she led her away by the tits, grinding and milking the big nipples. "The rest of you remain where you are," she said curtly to the crowd of assembled slaves. "I'll be back shortly to attend to all of you."
"Poor Florence," one of the men said, shaking his head sadly. "She's really in for it this time."
"Yes, the poor kid doesn't realize what she's doing," answered another man. "She's actually challenged the authority of the baroness over us. Anything could happen to her now, the dumb bitch."
As they moved along, the baroness ran her hands over every creamy inch of Florence's body, spanking and fondling it. She slipped an arm around the girl, gripping the huge melons, hefting the swollen breasts and jiggling them up and down, yanking and corkscrewing them by the nipples.
"Florence, you look so fabulous in those boots and gloves that I can't resist you. I'm going to do things to you that you'll remember as long as you live."
"Oh Baroness, this is too good to be true. I've never dared hope for this... I have a confession to make... I can't stand pain, it's you that I love--only you... I endure all of this just to be near you, to have a chance to see you every week."
This was too good to be true. To have a victim to work on, a young and innocent girl who hated torture.
"My dear," she intoned with hypocritical tenderness, letting her saliva flow down the girl's neck as her hands pumped and primed the fat tits. "You should have told me all of this before, and I would have gotten together with you all the sooner."
"Is it true?" moaned the girl, her face alight with love and lust.
"Yes, I would have spared you all of that suffering and sucked all of the cream out of your cunt, for hours and hours, forever."
The girl had an orgasm hearing this fantastic and unbelievable thing from the baroness. Her quim flooded over, and it ran in thick streams down her shaking legs, while the baroness dipped her fingers into the swirling streams running down the thighs and put her fingers to her mouth to lick the come off her leather gloves.
"Is this all true, you want to suck me? Oh, this is too much, all of my wildest dreams are coming true."
"Yes, but we must fool the others. I will bind you to one of the devices so that they do not guess I want only your luscious flesh, and not the pleasure of your pain."
"Oh, will it hurt?"
"Not too much my dear. Surrender yourself into my hands, and you shall be safe. I will be extra careful with you, my little darling."
She kissed the girl on the tits and on the bush, letting her tongue slide in just a little bit. She spread wide the fat ass cheeks, and poked her fingers deep into the crevice to touch the mucky asshole, drilling leather covered fingers up into the tight anal orifice.
"I can't stand this excitement, it's driving me crazy," pathetic Florence said, her tits shaking and pumping with the excitement she felt.
The baroness led her into the corner of the room where the most diabolical of the devices waited. It was a length of two by two's topped by sharp and piercing metal spikes. It rested between two upright poles, across them at cunt height. The points reflected the light, the fire shining and sparkling upon the wicked razor sharp tips of the spikes.
"But this is the worst device you have in this torture chamber," Florence said in shock, recoiling from the device. She noted that it had been modified as well, a jack placed under one end of the board so that the spikes could be raised, sending the points deep into a suffering crotch.
"Don't worry, child," the baroness soothed her in her sweet and syrupy tones, her face a tender mask of hypocrisy. "I wouldn't hurt you, my sweet love. I'll merely raise it a little bit, just enough to make those fools think that I'm torturing you. Now climb on it."
"But how will you reach my cunt?"
The baroness grinned sardonically. "Don't you worry about that, child, your cunt will have all of the action that it can handle."
The girl failed to see the veiled threat in these velvet words of promise. Like a lamb going unheeding and innocent to the slaughter, she climbed on the board, stepping gingerly on top of the board so that she would not hurt her vulnerable and exposed quim.
"My tender little angel," murmured the baroness affectionately, playing with the tits. She ran her tongue into the girl's cleavage, alone the nape of her neck, and sloshing deep into the moist and flavorful armpits.
"Your tongue is driving me wild," the girl babbled, in a rage of excitement.
"That shall be only the start."
She played with the girl some more, making her tits go hard as stone, making the girl come once again from the play of her leather covered hands.
"Put your hands under the board so that I can tie them," the baroness said.
Almost hypnotized by desire, the girl did as she was told, foolishly putting her hands under the board, where the baroness lashed them together with stout cord.
"Now, to add a bit of spice to this, my little angel."
The girl was still innocent of the intentions of the baroness, but her face went ashen white with astonished terror when she saw the baroness procure three weights with stout cords to bind them to her body.
"But you can't use those weights on me, I'll be drawn down to the board, and my cunt will be stabbed. I'll be torn apart on the spikes."
"Trust me, I know what I'm doing."
Indeed, the baroness knew what she was doing, but the poor Florence did not know.
The baroness soothed her with kind and comforting words as she tied two small weights to the distended nipples of the heavy girl, and the third larger weight to her wrists, pulling the girl's body down with a strong force.
"It's already hard to keep my body clear of the spikes. I'm going to be hurt."
"You won't be on that long enough for the spikes to pierce your beautiful skin. Don't be afraid, keep on trusting me."
The foolish girl went right on trusting her, not knowing where it would lead her.
With an evil grin on her face, the baroness went over to the lever and grasped it in her hand. She seized the jack and spun the metal bar, raising the board. Then with a twisted, diabolical smile on her face, she spun the bar quickly.
The dungeon echoing and reechoing with Florence's unearthly screams as the spikes rammed into her creamy white flesh. The spikes sent a torrent of blood pouring out onto the floor.
"Never again will you question my authority, you wretched and stupid little girl. That big body of yours will be such a mass of scars that you'll never be able to bear showing it to anyone ever again."
"But I love you." pleaded the girl. "Aiieeeee. Owwww, the pain. I'm being killed, I'm going to die."
"Perhaps you will. It won't bother me if you do, you little fool."
"But the weights will eventually force the spikes into me all the way... right up to the board...
Her voice faded away as she realized the potential of horror that awaited her.
"That's the idea, precious," the baroness said to the sobbing girl. "You're going to be ruined for life. That is, you will be if you survive this little ordeal. And there is no guarantee that you will."
The baroness ran her hands up and down the body of her trapped victim, grasping and pumping all of the white meat. She sank her teeth into the tits until her fangs sank through the flesh and she drank the hot blood out of the wounds. She tore and plucked at the girl, her voice rising in shrill laughter with every new surge of agony that the girl felt.
She swung the weights hanging on the raw nipples crazily from side to side, her hands sinking so deep into the flesh of the tits that her fingers were out of sight down to the knuckles.
The dungeon was filled with such terrible screams that all of the slaves were shaken to the core, even those who enjoyed enduring the most horrible of mistreatment at the hands of the baroness.
The baroness secured a whip. She lashed the bouncing, shaking appendages, the huge masses of soft white tit tissue. The rolling tits rippled and heaved, the torso in writhing pain shook with every lacerating sweep of the heavy whip across the soft curves. The baroness split the silken skin apart, tearing long weals into the tender white flesh that shredded the underneath layers of flesh, as easily as ripping a sheet of paper.
The baroness split the flesh apart and then tore into the segmented, dangling, torn strips of butchered hide. She ripped the body until the blood was arcing through the air with every coiling of the whip upon the skin. "Bleed, you bitch, bleed."
Indeed, the girl was bleeding. Her body was in orgasmic pain upon the spikes, with the long needles rammed all of the way up into the torn crotch. The rolling about of the girl upon the board was too much, as the pain sent her into a deep coma of shock.
The bloody ruin of a beauty that was taken down from the instrument of torture was mute warning to all of the slaves to stay in line. They had been shown a fearsome example of the fate awaiting rebels.
"Be good, you scum," the baroness vowed, "Or you'll suffer her fate."
The scum vowed to be good, and to avoid the horrors that had befallen the unfortunate Florence, who left a trail of dripping blood behind her as she was dragged out to her further fate.
The baroness realized that she had allowed things to get out of hand. Looking about her she could see that there was rebellion in the air. There were others in contradiction to her rules, pairing off on their own initiative. She had let things get out of hand, and now she was paying the price for her own laxity.
"Well, I can straighten all of this out in a hurry," she said. "I'll whip the shit out of every rebel."
She came upon Tommy Wetson, a handsome young twenty-five hunk of stuff. The young man had an ass covered with an amusing and absorbing series of whip patterns laid one on top of the other. But this was not what made the baroness give him the once over, her face clouded by fury.
Without heeding the demands that she approved any action, he was putting himself into freak drag, peeling his body of its white briefs, and putting on the beautiful black underwear that only women were permitted to wear.
"Son of a bitch," ranted the baroness. "Is everybody around here becoming crazy?"
He was putting on a pair of black kid hose, prior to anchoring them to a black satin garter belt that girdled his middle. On a block of stone, ready for use, was a pair of black falsies, black kid gloves, and a bra. He was obviously intent on putting all of the paraphernalia on.
"You bastard. What in the world is the matter with you people tonight," the baroness shrieked, as she slashed with her whip across his jutting rump. "You know what the male costume consists of."
Groveling at her feet, he begged for her mercy, but she was not in the mood to grant it. She shredded his ass with powerful strokes, ripping the cheeks apart and laying deep cracks into the meat so that the blood dripped in thick streams down his thighs. She laid it into him, making every inch of his body quiver. She flogged him from one end of the chamber to the other, driving him before her. She stripped off the nylons he had donned, tearing them to pieces and bloodying his legs so that he needed bandages rather than stockings.
She took him into a corner and hung him up by his thumbs from one of the windlasses. She added a heavy weight, which she hung from his flaccid prick.
"If you want to dress like a girl, I'll treat you like one, you faggot."
She shoved a huge dildo up his ass, slamming it deep into his asshole and then hammering it deep into his hot and raw bottom hole.
"That should hold you."
She laid crisscrossing welts on his chest, making them intersect at the center of his chest along the dividing line, crossing the welts one on top of the other. She continued her pretty pattern down his belly, and gave him a few on the cock and balls for good measure.
After reducing Tommy to a beaten, bloody hulk, the baroness left him to see to the rest of her group. The trouble was that the pigs were all turning on to such a degree of high, that they were forgetting their place and her control over them. She had to take them back in hand before things became too serious.
Now she found that tortures had begun without her approval and supervision. The people had begun to pair off. To her horror she discovered a blonde strapped to an upright board studded with spikes, while an old man pumped his meat into the helpless, but obliging girl.
"You dirty bastard. I'll teach you to fuck behind my back. I'll maim you."
She seized the old man by the scruff of the neck and tore him off the girl. She sent him flying across the room with a boot to his ass, and then she belted him across the torso, cutting him from the top of his scrawny left shoulder all across the span of his body down to his right hip, the tip of the whip coiling around him to cut his ass right in the center of the cheek.
"I'll kill you, bastard."
Another massive blow cut him from the right shoulder to the left hip, splitting his body open with a bloody X. As the blood spurted from the wound, he gave a wild cry and keeled over, kicking and screaming. The baroness laid it on him, making his body jump and twitch with the power of her whip.
Many of the others were quailing in corners of the room, appalled by her spree of slaughter.
"Now for you, my obliging bitch," the baroness snarled at the girl bound to the board. "I'll teach you to fuck around without my permission."
"He made me do it," she screamed. "I didn't want to, but he forced me."
"Lying bitch."
"Please, don't whip me. I can't take any more pain tonight."
"Tough shit," snarled the baroness, laying it on with a will. She sent the girl quivering and squirming back on the spikes to get away from the flying stinging whip that cut at her again and again.
The baroness tore her breast globes apart, splitting the nipples into segments. They were big nipples, and the tits bled copiously when the baroness whipped the nipples apart.
"Not quite what you were expecting, is it, you dirty rebel. You seem to want cock in you, even if it is dirty old man tired out cock. Well, I'll see what I can do for you, my little pretty."
The baroness secured a spiked foam rubber dummy attached to a giant black rubber vibrator. She stuffed the dong into the girl and then she tied the dummy to her, letting the spikes sink into the tender meat. She then switched on the vibrator. The screams of the girl filled the torture chamber. The baroness bound the dummy to the board of spikes with heavy chains, crushing the girl between the spiked board and the vibrating dummy.
"A few hours of that will teach you the meaning of obedience, you foxy bitch."
There were late arrivals and some of them had not gotten the word on the reign of terror that the baroness was launching against the miscreants and heretics.
She discovered that there was another woman wearing boots, it was the wife of the mayor, Mrs. Winthrop. She sat on the floor, her gloved hands trussed firmly to her booted limbs, the Duchess of Kensington lapping madly away at the exquisite leather with great eagerness.
This was too much, now a frenzy of bloodlust overtook the baroness. She would teach them lessons that they would never forget. She flailed away at the tender bodies with her whip, slashing the flesh to shreds. They fled the touch of her whip upon their soft bodies, but she was all over them, lashing them to pieces.
The poor mayor's wife could not flee her wrath, bound as she was. The attack centered upon her. The baroness tore her apart, making the blood flow and pool all over the floor.
"She's in a real rage," commented one of the men with dread in his shaky voice, cowering behind one of the other men.
"She's really out to kill. We had better keep out of her way. She won't stop at anything when she's like this, and she's getting worse every minute."
Of course, not one of them would have thought of trying to go up against her, or would have had the guts to try it. She had them all beaten down, and licking the ground she walked on.
The baroness knew what the problem was. It was a simple matter of sex. She had let things get out of hand, and now the fools were more interested in orgying it up then in taking discipline from her. Well, she would soon put a stop to all of that bullshit. She knew that there was no real rebellion against her. It was only an outpouring of overstimulation. Too much kicks, all coming out in individual expression. Well, she would whip and dominate every one of them, until she had broken them all back down to obeying her will.
She looked around for the new arrival, the one that her new favorite had brought, the guy, Conklin. Mr. Conklin stood with his back to her, watching a hefty redhead suck away madly at the organ of a massive, hairy giant. Quickly, the baroness wrapped her whip around his neck and yanked with all of her strength, pulling him sharply backwards. He dropped silently to the floor as if pole-axed, and she glowered down at his limp form with great satisfaction.
"You're lucky that you're a new pig and not one of the regulars, else I would really teach you a lesson."
The baroness then discovered yet another break in her iron discipline. In an isolated alcove of the torture chamber a blonde woman Stood fettered to a series of irons, hanging from chains that were attached to an overhead beam. A slender blond man with an erection was ready to explode out of his briefs was kneeling before her tugging at her panties. The woman wasn't wearing the called for garter belt; instead she was wearing a black wasp waist corset not unlike the one that the baroness herself was wearing.
"You dirty rotten stinking rebellious shit eating bastard son of a bitch," the baroness raved, in tones not those that a baroness should ever use, not to mention the shocking gutter language. But she was a baroness in name and title, not in temperament.
Once again the lash sang a merry tune, in the dark dungeon air, ripping the woman's corset to shreds, not to mention the streaking and wealing of the flesh underneath. Long, brilliant red weals were laid on the alabaster whiteness.
The baroness saw fear flickering in the slack jawed face of the kneeling man. She smiled at him as she whipped the girl, pointing to his ass. "Your turn will come next, you bastard. I'm going to whip your body to pieces, and feed it to my dogs, bastard."
That was the last straw. Something strange happened, something out of pattern. For the first time that night one of her slaves really did rebel. The slim blond man launched himself at her, hand clawing for her throat.
"So you want to play rough, do you?"
She let him have a hideous lash right above the eyes across his brow, one inch above his vulnerable eyes. She tore the skin open, blinding him with his own blood. He fell to the floor screaming, clawing at the wound.
"Now, I'm going to really show you a lesson, you son of a bitch."
She whipped his cock and balls, causing him to double up in jackknifing agony, tearing at his bloody forehead and his hurt genitals. She whipped his ass apart, shredding it with long cutting weals that spanned the rump from hip to hip.
She caught him by one foot, coiling the whip around an ankle. She dragged him along the floor, striking him against the various objects.
"I hope she doesn't go to work on me like that," said the brunette that had come with Joyce, as she sat on the spiked seat while a red headed girl with a big ass sucked away at her pussy.
"We haven't done anything wrong," said the girl sucking away at her. "We're not transgressors, so we should be all right."
"I certainly hope so. She could kill the way she's using that whip of hers."
The baroness was certainly in a mood that allowed her to contemplate killing. She tore the man's back open, laid the bloodied flesh wide open, and then continued to whip away at him, until she had torn his body apart and there was nothing left intact to whip.
Leaving him in a bloody heap, gibbering with fear and agony, she went back to the girl he had been playing with and contemplated her with malevolent eyes.
"Violet, you've been a bad bitch. Now I think the time has come for you to suffer."
She began to whip the fucking shit out of Violet, laying the whip into her, and tearing all of the white meat apart until Violet was a flayed piece of skin and bones covered with blood and swinging half dead in bondage.
Unsatisfied, the baroness stepped up close to her and began to drink the blood out of the wounds. She filled her mouth with mauled, maimed, and lacerated flesh, drinking the blood out of the torn meat, her hands shoving and stuffing the handle of the whip up into the tortured gash.
Satisfied at last with this vengeance, and with the blood running from her foaming jaws, the wild eyed baroness strode around the room, striding proudly and arrogantly, letting them all know that she was in command once again.
She hit them in the tits, the bellies, slapped their faces. One by one they knelt before her, kissed the front of her panties and her boots.
The baroness was now hungry for sex. She turned to a young man bound to a block of stone. He was filled with the same terror as the others, but despite this, his cock swelled gigantically at the sight of her coming toward him.
The baroness took off her clothes, peeling them slowly down her sweat soaked skin, letting her scent overpower him. She threw her clothes over him, drew them over his face, teased and tickled him with them.
His cock was huge and vibrating in his pants. It was all that she required. She began to hook her fingers inside her pussy letting her lips flip open and then snapping the vulva lips loose. She began to poke her fingers in and out of herself, hungry to make him go wild with the wanting of her.
She came close to him, towering above on her skyscraper heels, her broad luscious hips swinging suggestively, her monumental tits swinging ponderously to and fro. She bounced them on the palms of her hands, then opened her gash into an 0 without touching it, socking out her cunt to him and letting him look all of the way into her gash.
The baroness sat on the stone slab in front of him, his enormous erection pointing at her like a cannon. She sighed and hooked two tautly gloved fingers under the elasticized briefs and tugged them gently down.
She pushed her cunt forward, brushing it upon his body, making him almost ill with the desire for her.
"My goodness," she giggled. "You do have quite a salami there, don't you? And it is time for our snack break."
Saying this, she treated herself to a long and luxurious feast of salami, and she ate at it until there was no longer any more hardness in the salami.
