THE CLOSET

A story of a young woman attracted to an older man who becomes her lover.  A man she’s curious about, maybe too curious.

Part One

Chapter One

Turning the third, forth key on his private ring, the lock finally unlocking, the door slowly swinging open with the slightest of a shove of her hand, she glances around before stepping in his bedroom’s walk-in closet, a closet she’s never seen unlocked, much less allowed to enter since she moved in with him.

Her hair wet in the puffy white towel, the matching full body towel wrapped around her freshly bathed figure, everything’s in neat order from the shadows of the doorway, obviously the kind of personal things that most normal men would collect. Flicking on the single bulb overhead light with its draw chain, curious of what else he must collect to be so obsessively private about this closet, the secrets he’s so adamant about keeping to himself, she finds herself drawn toward what appears to be a bulky footlocker, maybe even a steamer trunk taking up most of the back corner.

Another lock to bypass as she tugs on the trunk’s handles, rattling the keys on their ring, one finally making a full rotation and she smiles to herself in anticipation.  Momentarily thinking to herself just how lucky she is he forgot his keys today, flipping the lid open, again meticulously arranged belongings in two rows taking up half the space, the other side’s covered with a taut canvas flap.  Attracted to the numbered glossy faced binders in one neat stack next to another mound of likewise numbered cassettes, again reflexively glancing around, momentarily becoming virtually motionless, quite, she reaches down into the trunk for the top binder.

       Shutting the trunk lid for a flat surface, flipping the brilliantly white numbered one binder open she realizes it’s an album.  Color photos, several to a page, a closer look and she again reflexively freezes.  A double take, lifting her hands as she tilts her face closer to it as she holds the binder closer to the light, she realizes the photos are of a bound, naked, blindfolded woman.  Flipping a couple pages, a couple more, the photos appear to be a series of the woman’s images as she’s being tortured.

       Another glance around as she feels her heart thumping in her chest, again flipping the lid open as she kneels, lays the top binder on the floor, she reaches in for the next album.  Flipping the numbered two album open with its binder on the trunk’s edge, another series of photos, another blindfolded woman being photographed in a sadomasochistic scheme, she glances back inside the trunk, down toward what seems to be at least another half dozen remaining albums next to the similarly numbered cassettes.

       Standing, reaching in and lifting out the stack of albums, shutting the trunk and stacking them toward one side, she sits on the lid with another album in hand.  Opening it across her knees, already knowing the theme, she focuses on the initial page.  Yet another woman, obviously in the same predicament, it’s also obvious the photos are taken from the same location.

       Turning page after page, the further the more graphic, more sadistic, halfway through she realizes the photos are of more then a single series but with the same woman.  Bruises, welts, whip marks in one series, needles, clamps in another, breasts suspension, multiple impaling of orifices in yet another, she can’t help cupping her own breasts, press her fingers between her own thighs as she imagines what torment the victim must have suffered.

       Finally skimming toward the rear pages, the mask gone in the last set, she recognizes the face of the spread-eagled woman now being sexually assaulted with her legs bound above her head to a bed board’s posters.  It’s the face of one of his past girlfriends she’s met, her moist eyes with that reddened glow from a Polaroid photo, her rectum being stretched by a hooded man’s cock, his fingernails burrowing into, twisting, tugging her bruised breasts sadistically apart as he pounds at her.  Finally the backside of the last page, a single portrait  photo of the woman, this one out of place for the album, a formal studio type photo with a normal pose.

       Letting the binder shut and setting it beside her, glancing toward the other albums, she’s drawn to the next one.  Taking a deep breath, slowly opening it, starting at the front, again the series of brutal treatments’ fully photographed.  Suspensions, from breasts to inverted spread legs, piercings of breasts, not just a needle or two but sadistic patterns of a half dozen or so to each nipple, even labium and clit piercings, the layouts seem to escalate from a sadistic imagination leading up to the bed again, the tearful woman being savagely abused on the same bed.  As she flips to the back page, again the unmasked face on the rear, a single still of a normal pose the last image, again a previous girlfriend of his with a professional portrait.

       Letting the photo album shut in her hands, laying it on top of the first, she seems drawn to the next as she stares down at it.  Realizing the women seem to be more then just similar, actually just about like herself, young, good-looking and big busted, the stirring deep down inside escalating, even the noticeable aching of her breasts match that between her thighs as she seems to somehow be sharing their torment, even maybe responding to some of the less severe photos.  Finally picking up the third binding, starting at the front, the same backdrop, another also similar woman’s being abused.

       This one initially in black leather straps and silver chains, her mouth spread impossibly wide with dental implements, her first series of photos would seem to be almost erotic if it weren’t for the stark reality she’s not just posing.  A single bondage sleeve, her shoulders also impossibly arched back, it appears the contortions of her naked body’s forcing her to the brink of multiple dislocations.

Flipping through the pages to another series of photos, almost anticipating escalating pain, humiliation, seeing not just needles this set but skewers, long razor sharp prongs burrowing, crisscrossing through the deep titflesh close to her breastbone beneath the bamboo clamps contorting her swollen mounds, she again cups her own breast, reflexively squeezing, releasing, squeezing again and again her own thickening nipple between the tips of her filed fingernails as she stares at the photos of  skewers being thrust straight inward into the nubs of the woman’s nipples, three, four photos with the glistening prongs finally buried at least six inches deep in each bulging breast.  Once more the backside of the final page, the portrait of an out of place smiling face following a brutal sexual attack on what appears to be that same bed in the pages before it.

The third binder set aside, sensing the terrycloth body towel spreading wider, slipping off her still damp shoulders, she glances down between her bare breasts, toward her moist thighs.  Allowing the towel to crumple beneath her across the trunk lid, her breasts twitching, throbbing, the glistening mounds she’s so proud of so firm, globular, she notices the reddened dimples of the self inflicted nail marks on her thickening nubs.  Cupping, flattening a breast, then glancing over at the lowering stack of binders, picking up yet another, she automatically flips it open across her spreading lap.

A deep breath, another before mindlessly caressing her tingling breast as she nervously flips the book open, she commences with the front page.  Naked, bound spread-eagled, appearing to be the same location of a set, again a young, big breasted woman’s being put through similar but obviously escalating torments.  Breasts not only roped but seemingly deeply wired instead until turning a harsh purplish hue, serrated clover clamps digging into her puffy nipples, drool spews from around a bright red ball gag stretching her similarly red lips into a perfect oval.

Dropping her hand from her own responding breast, staring at the continuing series of photos, she almost silently moans to herself as she follows the photos of weights and more weights being added to the ever stretching clamps in ensuing photos, those breasts darkening, bulging, the nipples trickling, oozing crimson as they’re wickedly stretched.  Almost embarrassed in recalling having experimented herself, having felt clothespins on her own sensitive titflesh during some playful sex in the past, but hardly imagining her own breasts being abused this severely, the nipples clamped, tugged anything like in the photos in front of her, slowly nodding to herself in disbelief, she can’t help thinking how the woman’s obviously starting off this album so painfully.

A quick flip through the remaining pages as the punishment becomes too graphic, too humiliating to concentrate on, the back pages of her bound across that bed again, not only being anal penetrated but thick, dark phallus’ crammed in her mouth, her vagina, once more what seems to be a professional portrait of the woman consumes the back page.

The torments escalating to discerning, brutal, she glances down at the pair of remaining journals.  Adding to the stack of already viewed binders, picking up the next to last, she senses mixed emotions as she feels the moisture sticking to her fingers as she presses a hand between her thighs.  Nipples throbbing, glancing down, she can’t help noticing the nubs’ indentions from her nails having become discolored as they almost, somehow not so painfully ache from something more then just her own touch.  Again allowing the album to spread open across her thighs, the glossy cover sticking to her bare flesh, she focuses again on what surely will be another naked and bound woman.

A halting breath, staring ever closer at the very first photo, the completely naked and blindfolded woman’s bare breasts with a series of rubber bands snapping equally apart deep into each protruding mound forcing, molding them into tubular spears jaunting apart, she can’t help thinking she somehow recognizes a tattoo, a singular jet black tattoo on the woman’s left breast just above the nipple, that of a leopard.  Heart throbbing, stomach churning, a flick of a page, another flick and she feels herself on the verge of hyperventilating.

The only photos starting out with a masked woman not being bound, the next series more then makes up for it as she’s duct taped onto a makeshift wooden Saint Andrew’s cross.  Arms, legs severely folded with ankles to thighs, wrists to shoulders covered with defined tight rows of the silver tape, she’s spread out and mounted onto the flat front of the ‘X’ structure, her breasts remaining molded by the disappearing bands still burrowing into her titflesh with her face tilted forward between the bulging mounds.  Nipples tautly spread, veins showing beneath the nearly translucent flesh of her areolas and bulging nubs that’s now also bound with small bands, both labia lips appear to be severely stretched apart, pinned to her inner thighs, all freshly waxed or shaven around the dark, gapping tunnel of her sex.  A closer look, the swollen nub of her clits’ also been bound with a miniature type of rubber band of some sort.  And focusing in, with almost disbelief she realizes its also been pierced with a taut string stretched from it up to between her breasts, to her pierced tongue being drawn downward across her chin.

Silently, slowly shaking her head from side to side in disbelief, fingering her own aching clit as she allows her tongue to torpidly trace across her parted, moist lips, she hesitantly flips through a few more pages.  Almost numb to the brutality of the escalating photos, seeing the still bound breasts being swatted with a multi holed drilled paddle until a couple of the bands break and snap away from the dark purplish flesh, the nipples, clit even darker, she again knowingly glares at the familiar tattoo.

Drawing closer to the back page, to what she knows will certainly be the professional photo of someone she just can’t bring herself to believe she recognizes, flipping past the images of multiple welts crisscrossing those bruised mounds with specks of crimson oozing from around the embedded bands, the similar welts laced with the crimson of the lacerated folds of her labium still pinned to her stretched inner thighs, she again views what seem to be that all too familiar bed.  The now un-taped but fully spread-eagled victim mounted on it as the other two of her orifices are being stuffed to nearly tearing with phalluses even as her discolored, nearly swollen shut vagina’s being consumed by that thick shaft.  Flipping the page, she stares at the professional portrait, into the eyes of the person who introduced her to the man with these secrets, her older sister.

Unmindful to the passing time, dropping the binder to the floor, anxiously reaching down for the final album as her heartbeat pounds, throbs throughout her entire body, she almost rips the cover open across her lap.  Blank pages, obviously not yet used as she flips through, back and forth, front to back, back to front, she starts to toss it on top of the disheveled stack as it flops open to the rear cover.  Eyes widening, her stomach twisting in a knot, she stares at her own full size photo on back of the last page, the very portrait he had her pose for him just a few weeks before.  Cupping both breasts as she mumbles incoherently, defensively crossing her knees even as she hears the bedroom door opening in the background, she notices his shadow as he’s entering the bedroom, his image silhouetting across the poster bed, that bed in the photos.

End Part One…Could be continued   *** BUT ONLY IF REVIEWED!!!*** 

 

       

        

THE CLOSET

Part Two

       The bitter aroma, the acrid taste, squinting while she grunts she finds herself painfully secured in leather bindings as she regains consciousness.  Shoulders throbbing as she hears fading footsteps, a door opening then shutting out of sight behind her, arms bound together at the elbows and wrists tautly stretched behind her back, thighs spread widely apart on what best could be described as some sort of chair frame she’s being forced to do the splits on; even as she tries to twist, shake her head from side to side she quickly realizes she’s in an immobile bondage, a tight, painful bondage not unlike those girls in most of those other photos from the closet.

Drool dripping from either side of the hard rubber ‘O’ ring stretching her lips into an almost perfect oval between the straps encircling her face, even as she coughs she senses her body forced into a contorted painful configuration with her head held firm in that harness.  Chest arched outward, her breasts thrust almost painfully apart, she also realizes she’s still completely naked in the nearly pitch black room.

       Eyes darting, trying to glance around, glaring past the straps toward her left shoulder, her right, all into the darkness, trying to move, to squirm free, the pain escalates in her wrists, her ankles.  A forced deep inhalation, still the stifling aftermath of whatever chemical was used to awaken her, sensing mucus mixing with her saliva as it streaks off her chin to cling between her bare breasts she can sense the pounding heartbeat in her chest, the twitching of her breasts jaunting away from one another, the firm mounds forced to stand upright from the tightness of the straps binding her shoulders into such a painful arch behind her back.

       Another forced breath and cough, another followed by yet another as she tenses, squirms, she senses only her breast’s movements, jiggling, swaying.  Thoughts quickly ranging from bewilderment to anger, to trepidation, then anxiously of the closet with the contents of the albums, she faces the reality she’s about to start filling her own series of horrendous photos.

       Blinking, squinting, blinking again to try to focus her eyes as the darkness becomes blurs of deep shadows, the room almost takes form, a room of dark, curtained walls, ominously of little or no other furniture.  Scraping the tips of her toes across the floor on either side of the anything but comfortable chair, obviously uncarpeted hardwood beneath her feet, her fingers twisting, curling into fists as her bindings dig deeper into her already chaffed wrists, more painful breaths with her futile contortions, she frustratingly tries to relieve some of the pain, to slump back, to find a way to adjust to a more tolerable position.

A couple measured breaths, her mind slowly clearing, remembering, she recalls him entering the bedroom, stepping to the open closet door, that look on his face, that look of contempt, even of superiority as he slowly nodded his head in disappointment while entering the closet.  Her heart pounds even harder as she seems to be able to see the cloth in his hand again, the time seeming to be frozen while he almost calmly pressed it out across her face as she for whatever reason could only hesitate, grab feebly for her towel, attempt to halfheartedly turn away.  Her thoughts returning to the present, to the continuous pain, but for now just the bearable kind of pain in her joints with her shoulders aching, hips burning, she tilts her head forward, her eyes darting downward trying to catch a glimpse of her jiggling breasts.

Staring, squinting, barely making out the silhouettes of those firm mounds standing upright, a sort of relief, at least momentary relief crosses her mind as she attempts to tilt her face forward.  Realizing as obscenely thrust out her breasts appear while she glances from one side to the other, they also appear to be unmarred in the shadows, at least for now.  Pressing her head further forward in the stretching leather straps, trying to see down past her sternum, to her impossibly spread, aching thighs, she comprehends its useless for her to try to crane any further, her bowed chest concealing her lower body as the drool trickles past her hollowing stomach.

Once more sitting upright as much as possible, again squirming to somehow, someway find a tolerable position to maybe relieve just the harshest of the annoying pain throbbing throughout her contorted body, she stares into the darkness, waits, anxiously anticipates what’s in store as she can’t help recalling photo after graphic photo of the different girls, their common denominator being tortured breasts, breasts like hers that’s being forced so obscenely outward right now.  Seconds seeming like minutes, minutes more like hours, the quietness only adds to her escalating anxiety.  A series of deep, irregular breaths as she again squirms, more morbid thoughts of the closet, the photos, the brutal pain inflicted on the girls, especially their breasts.

Just as she feels the tears flowing down her cheeks, a light flicks on from above, bright, harsh illumination of the barren room.  Eyes squinting, she hears the door opening from behind, senses the footsteps approaching as the door obviously shuts.  Feeling hands softly applied on her shoulders, tips of fingers gliding up the curvature of her neck, caressing her earlobes, she continues to squint straight ahead to adjust to the light while holding her breath.  Sensing the hands sliding back down her throat, trace across her shoulder blades, lightly roam over the upper curves of her firm breasts shoved upward, she glances down, watches his fingertips circle her smoothly flat areolas, their nubs jiggling as they point away from one another.

The sensation of his breath on the nape of her neck, hesitantly exhaling herself, still anxiously focusing on his fingernails twirling around her nipples now seemingly instantly puckering, involuntarily responding to his touch even as she notices a sliver of her drool tracing from one breast to the other, she senses his body pressing against her bound arms, her clenched hands about even height with his crotch as he casually steps around the chair, centers his hands above her breasts.

‘You just had to disobey, didn’t you?  The curiosity was just too much, just like all the others.’

His voice firm as usual, but now almost condescending, she remains silent, watches his perfectly manicured nails curling, positioning to obviously burrow into the hardening nipples of those thrust out breasts standing out between them that almost seems not to be hers.

‘You opened the trunk, helped yourself to my private collections.  Ignored my privacy like all the other girls.’

Still remaining silent, the overall body aches, pains now in the back of her mind, the initial twinge of his nails pressing closer together, the nubs swelling, bulging as he tugs not so gently outwards, she watches as her breasts are wrenched to nearly chin level, almost unrecognizably large, almost perfectly round and overly firm from her state of bondage.

‘You saw the photos, all the photos.  I know, I saw the albums on the closet’s floor, all out of order, disheveled.  You showed no respect for my property.’  His voice in a familiar scolding tone.  ‘No respect for my property or my privacy.  None at all, you disrespected me, didn’t you?’

Almost trancelike staring, sensing her nipples throbbing in his clutches even as she listens, focusing on the tips of his fingernails beginning to sink into the tan nubs, inhaling, holding her breath, the pain becoming harsher, almost burning as his fingers and thumbs start to noticeably slip back and forth, back and forth ever so slowly, almost deviously, causing her breasts to painfully rotate simultaneously as they’re held up between them, she hears her own beseeching gurgling grunts through the gag as she obediently nods her chin arbitrarily up and down to hopefully somehow appease him.

‘Well, I think you in the least owe me an apology.  Then again, I think you should also be chastised physically, don’t you?  Yes, I think we need to focus on these breasts for the moment, really focus on them for your punishment, teach you a lesson, it’s time you started knowing your place.’  Eyes momentarily darting from her breasts to his eyes, then just as quickly back to her breasts, she reflexively twitches as he continues his admonishment.  ‘Maybe even with some of the implements you were so interested in seeing.  But then again, that’s after we soften these nipples up some with my nails.’

Reflexively attempting to bow her back, barely able to arch foreword in the taut bindings as her breasts stretch further outward in his clutches, the pain nearly excruciating as he works his fingernails back and forth into her titflesh while scolding her, her head twisting from side to side in the firm straps, fists clenching, toes curling, again mumbled gargles escape the ‘O’ ring as the tears mount, trickle off her cheeks.

A few more agonizing twists, his fingers finally slipping away, her breasts bounce, jiggle to a standstill, the nipples swollen, the indentations from his fingernails crimson tinged.  Another pleading glance up toward him, his condescending smirk as his hands raise past her shoulders, she senses the Velcro mounted to the straps rising past either side of her face separating as his fingers shut the flaps across her eyes.  Darkness, the leather flaps pressing across the bridge of her nose, the dread of being blinded to whatever he has in store for her spreads throughout her body as she tenses, squirms.

‘Now meditate for a moment or so before we start working every inch of these titties, just sit and wait, sit and try to recall all the ways I implemented pain in those photos you just had to see.  You’re going to experience what their pain felt like for disobeying me in the next couple hours.  You’re also going to learn to obey, too.’

Near silence after his comments, just the sound of fading footsteps, the door opening, shutting, she senses the dread, feels the anxiety of his threats.  Quiet, total quiet and darkness, the relentless pain returning to her shoulders, legs, her head held firm in those straps, her body contorted as the tips of both nipples throb with each heartbeat, she can only wait, helpless.

Again unmeasured time, just mounting anxiety, she tries to listen, to hear anything besides her own heartbeat, wait for the dreaded sound of the door reopening behind her.  The dampness of her drool trickling down between her breasts, sensing it collecting between her spread thighs, even as she waits what’s next she’s struck by the thought that she can only imagine being photographed in such a humiliating pose.

‘Thwack’

A startling, stinging pain across a bare nipple, her body lurches as she grunts, spews saliva from the ‘O’ ring.  What seems like a flashing brilliance, eyes blinking in the otherwise darkness behind the leather flaps, the searing sensation of the tip of her thrust out breast being so suddenly struck, she coughs, rasps for breath.  Tensing, fists clenching behind her back, toenails curling, scraping the bare floor on either side of the creaking chair, again all the other aches seem to fade compared to the throbbing of her breast.  Moans, a grunting unintelligible plead though the drenched ‘O’ ring, she feels her breasts swaying, jiggling as her stomach ripples with each gasping breath.

‘Snap.’

Lurching forward once more in her restraints, her breasts jaunting reflexively outward, the other nipple feeling the full brunt of a split-tailed leather crop, her neck cranes as the straps holding her head in place burrow across her face.  Sensing that other similar electrical type flash of light across her eyes in the darkness, both breasts throb as the welted nipples quickly jiggle to a standstill.

Thoughts swirling, struggling for breath as her nostrials flair above her perched lips stretched so severely around the mouth gag, mucus mixing with traces of tears, drools of saliva, she ignores the sticking trails of her bodily fluids crisscrossing her sternum, tracing over the rounded sloops of her thrust out breasts.  Each escalating heartbeat corresponding with searing throbs of both nipples, she can only imagine which crop she’s seen in those photos that she’s being flogged with.  Trying somehow to compose herself, bracing for the whip to borrow into her titflesh yet again, her glistening body tenses, arches forward in the taut straps.  The bindings seeming ever tighter, her chaffing wrists twist back and forth in their restraints as she inhales, exhales, inhales again and holds her breath.

Then, comes that deafening silence as the seconds, then minutes slowly pass, the agonizing darkness and isolation with no way to measure an accurate amount of time.  She braces with each purged exhalation, quickly sucks in another rasping breath only to hold it for however long possible, waiting for the searing pain to be inflicted across her sensitive flesh yet again.  Breasts not throbbing as much as she hears the rushing in her ears, the pounding of each heartbeat, she waits, senses her nipples twitching in aching anticipation of the lash that’s bound to come yet again, sooner or later, to inflict more pain.

Something cool, a chilling gel spreading across a breast, she jerks, tenses.  Another hand melding, manipulating the other aching mound with more soothing gel, she silently moans, senses the caressing fingers being so pleasurable to her breasts even as she wonders how she couldn’t hear him coming back behind her.  Touching, rubbing, yet so carefully circling the bruised nipples, she finds herself almost giving in to the roving fingers after a few moments, somehow not anticipating that threat of imminent pain.  Sensing the gel liquefying even as mores’ added, the lotion dripping off the tips of her nipples as her breasts are worked, carefully melded into firm, round mounds only to be contorted outward, pressed together ever so gently, she feels the goose bumps across her bare flesh, the uncontrollable responses of her manipulated melons.

‘We want these to stay soft, yet firm, unmarred mounds that’s smooth, pliable, don’t we?’

Hearing his voice, as soothing as his hands melding her breasts, she moans through the ‘O’ ring in acknowledgement, most to appease him, but also partly in obvious pleasure.

‘We don’t want permanent noticeable harm, just something to help you along in understanding what I expect of you.  Something to keep you focused, in line.’

Still closely following his voice as his fingers slip outward to circle the tips of both nipples, the pain becoming more of a kind of strange ache as its not his nails but the nubs of his fingertips pressing inward for a slippery grip, gently tugging across the drenched flesh, she senses her breasts continuing to respond to his touch as she briefly nods against the straps.

A finger trailing away from a nipple, tracing around the glistening mound onto the sternum, down the path of dripping lotion across the curvature of her ribcage to the hollow of her rippling stomach, the sensations of that finger burrowing into her flexing navel and the other still manipulating a nipple, she presses her torso outward to accept his touch.

The grunts now almost quiet, anticipating moans through the ‘O’ ring, the lower finger circling her waxed pubic mound, the tip of the finger flicking across the spread folds of her labium, onto the nub of her moistening clit, her naked body trembles, tenses, arches outward against the straps.

‘You have a decision to make that’s only going to affect you, so listen as I continue.’

Widely stretched thighs already quivering, sensing his finger flicking back and forth across her responding clit, his thumb pressing across the slender flesh separating her rectum and vagina, she blinks, squints into the leather encasing her eyes, senses her body giving in even more to his touches.

‘You’re going to be punished.  Your breasts especially, they’ll be bruised, sore for awhile after I’m done to say the least.  Now, you can be contrary and be miserable, or you can learn from it and at a point I promise you the pain and pleasure will meld, just like it’s already happening now with your nipple, among other things.  It’s up to you what I allow you to feel, understand?’

Half hearing his soft words as he presses his mouth closer to her ear, the sensation of the tip of his thumb probing into the puckering rim of her rectum as a finger just as gently forges a couple knuckles deep past her clit, his other thumb and finger still tweaking the swelling nipple being tugged on, she can only try to nod as saliva drools from her chin.

‘If you agree to respond the way I expect you to, I’ll open the blinders, take out the mouth gag.  Then I’ll let you participate, even give you choices of the punishment I’m going to inflict on you, your breasts at the moment.  I may even let you cum along the way, especially since I see you’re already so close.  Agree?’

Multiple sensations, her mind swirling in a blur, his thumbs, fingers fully masturbating her squirming body as the warmth of his breath follows his whispers across her earlobe, she finds herself moaning, mumbling, nodding her head in answer as she uncontrollably shivers in the bindings.

END PART TWO   ***More reviews brings more chapters***      

        

     

THE CLOSET

Part Three

The oh, so familiar contentment as he takes the time to study his latest source of amusement.  His years of dominance, of total control in virtually every single one of his relationships and still he finds the young, attractive girls so very much like her seem to be replenished every year or so to fit his needs.  Stepping around the modified chair, her naked body bound like so many of the others, practically to the brink of but not quite to dislocations, his expertise in female bondage speaks for itself.

Having watched her quivering to his touch, her glistening, taut flesh so near perfection, breasts arguably bordering on too large, too symmetrical not to be augmented; she’s certainly on the list as one of his favorites already, at least her body is.  Hearing her whimpering acknowledgement of accepting his offer, especially under such extreme duress, he senses that rush, that feeling of power that he strives for.

Wiping his hands back and forth with the already damp towel, the moisture hers, he drops the white terrycloth she’d wrapped herself with to the side of the chair as he reaches for one of those breasts jaunting upward, being offered to him.  Firm, globular, the highly centered areola with the perfect nub shimmering with the faintest discolored remnant of a single well placed flailing of the lash, his fingers circle, massages the youthful flesh still saturated with the melted gel still dripping off the tip of the jiggling nipple.  Her eyes still masked by the black leather, the glistening bright red ‘O’ ring forming her yawning lips into such and inviting orifice spewing a random stream of saliva, he watches for what extorted expression she’s still capable of as he grips and tweaks the bruised nub.

‘I asked about your willingness for submissiveness, I’m not sure if you’re so sure of yourself with such a half hearted response.’  His voice firm, even keeled as his fingers twist back and forth, the undertone he’s so proud of during these type sessions, he knows she’s already answered his question the best she can, even how he’s wanted, now it’s just part of the game to make her continue to squirm, for him to toy with her mind just a little while longer before getting into the enjoyment of inflicting some more physical pain on her, explicitly those impressive breasts.

‘I guess the blinders stay in place for now.  Guess we’ll start working on these titties without uncovering your eyes first.’  Watching her back bow out from the chair as he speaks, her breast stretching outward with his crisp tug, he hears the slightest whining grunt from her spread lips as another fresh spurt of saliva clings, drools off her chin.  A twist, another tug of the nipple, he allows his free hand’s palm to cup, rest across her other breast.  Feeling both firm mounds pressing upward as they stand apart, allowing his fingers to spread, slowly rotate as they clench inward across her swollen nipples, he can’t help thinking to himself how her breasts are a bit larger then her sister’s, though maybe not quite as firm.

Then again, a nod toward the open door, she enters in on cue.  Barefoot, actually naked, the similarities are instantaneously more then obvious.  The breasts firm, the body just a tad leaner, she allows the rubber wheeled stainless steel cart to roll along practically silently in front of her.  While she positions herself toward the side of the chair, he quietly acknowledges her presence as she glances equally silent toward him.

‘She’s ready and waiting, I think we’re start with a couple of those.’  He nods toward the neatly formed row of implements on the tray as he lays an index finger vertically across his lips for silence.  Stepping beside the other side of the chair, its bowed occupant, again unsnapping flaps beside either of her ears, folding the leather Velcro tightly across them one at a time, he smiles knowing she’s now not only blinded but deaf to what’s coming.

Glancing back toward the tray, focusing on a couple of serrated Japanese clover clamps from a small cluster, he asks, almost callously.  ‘Are they properly adjusted?  Make sure they’re harsh enough to draw tears from her.  Go ahead and use one of your nipples as a guide first.’

Hesitantly, silently obeying his orders, reaching out, squeezing the tongs spreading apart on a clamp as she lifts it from the tray, she bows her back while she focuses on one of her own breasts as she cups, lifts the firm flesh upward in her free hand.  Fingers spreading, squeezing, the breast swelling, nipple bulging, she allows the clamp’s spread tongs to slip up and over the centered nub.  A noticeable tensing breath as she again hesitates, gnawing across her lower lip she allows the prongs to close, to obviously painfully burrow into her own titflesh.  A not so quiet grunt, her hand slowly slipping off the clamp, still cupping her breast with her other hand she watches the chrome tongs glisten as they jiggle outward from the tan tip of the firm, globular mound.

‘Let go Jodi; hands down to your sides, now how’s this feel?  And this, this?’  His voice patronizing as he reaches his own hand out, flicks the clamp with thumb and forefinger, flicking it a second, third time his eyes remain on hers as he smiles sarcastically.  ‘That’s good; those are tears welling up, aren’t they?’

An obedient nod as her fists clench beside her thighs, a tear streaking down her cheek, her eyes stare downward, to her aching nipple as the clamp springs back and forth to his touch.

‘Okay.’  His voice still firm as he watches the clamp slowly jiggle to a standstill, continuing to reach out, spreading the tongs with a finger, thumb he enjoys the sound of her low groan as the released clamp leaves a deep, crimson indentation on her nipple.

‘Okay Jodi, use it on Jessica now, and make it nice and deep on her tit, understand?’

A glance toward her younger sister, back toward the clamp, reaching out for it, feeling his fingers against hers she slowly nods as she gnaws on her lower lip, reaches awkwardly toward Jessica’s breast.

‘Go ahead, squeeze it, make the nipple bulge before you clamp it.  I want you to work that tit.’

His voice raising a decibel or so while he gives his instructions, he watches as she again tentatively obeys, steps closer to the chair as she spreads the fingers of her free hand below, around her sister’s thrust out breast.

‘Go ahead now, or it just might wind up on yours for the rest of the night!  Get going.’

A nervous nod, a tight grip and she squeezes her sister’s already firm mound into a bulging oval, the nipple swelling as it stands out between her fingertips.  Slipping the spreading tongs around the nub, letting the glistening metal burrow deep onto the areola, the slightest of hesitation and she allows it to spring shut.

Jessica bowing, grunting, her breast thrusting even further outward as the clamp stands almost upright, Jodi steps back a step as she glances back toward him.  He watches, intently watches the both of them, Jodi’s wide eyes, Jessica arching, her grunts spewing saliva across her already glistening bare breasts as she strains, twists in her bindings.

‘Come on, you know you’re enjoying this too, or would you rather be the one feeling the pain instead?  Maybe have a workout yourself; maybe feel those bands you like so much stretched across your tits again?’  He smirks as he steps beside Jodi, grips her hand to guide it toward her sister’s other breast.  ‘I want to see you sucking on her other tit for me.’ 

Reflexively cupping, covering her own breasts with her free forearm as she stiffens, remembering their brutal treatment, the elastic bands, the swatting with the drilled paddle until some of the elastic bands would snap, she nods, mutters under her breath as she reluctantly leans across her sister’s naked body.  Cupping Jessica’s bare breast in her tightening fist, pressing her face across the glistening mounds, she allows the tip of her tongue to slide out from between her spreading lips, to flick back and forth across the bare nub.  Obviously embarrassed, humiliated, gripping both breasts as she sucks, melding the mounds of titflesh between her fingertips, her bare flesh presses against her sister’s as the clamp jiggles high on the swollen nipple above her tensing fingers.

‘Enough for now, now clamp that other tit, then I’ve got something for you to help me with.’  He orders as he steps closer to the two of them.  ‘Do it quick, too.’

Turning, allowing Jessica’s discolored nipple to slip from her lips, her eyes widening as he points toward the tray, once more she unhesitantly obeys, reaches for the second serrated clamp, spreads it apart in her visibly trembling fingertips as she slides it across the glistening mound.  Allowing it to clamp shut into the puckering nub, watching her sister shudder as her naked body bows outward, listening to her pitiful grunts, she can feel the warmth of her own face turning crimson.

‘Assume the position, now.’

Hearing his command, she steps back, lowers her head as she arches her own shoulders back.  Lips parting, eyes focusing on the floor, feet together with palms outward from either thigh, she takes a breath, holds it as he slowly steps behind her.

Watching Jessica’s contorting body with the clamps jiggling from her upturned nipples, glancing toward Jodi, her breasts spreading, swaying outward from her bare chest, he glances over the multitude of implements on the tray.  Watching Jodi’s face, the reddening shade, again feeling invigorated with her forced obedience, he smirks.  ‘Here, let’s get her off the chair, I’ve got something else on my mind for the two of you I think you’ll learn to enjoy doing.’

A quick manipulation of Jessica’s bindings, lifting her up from the modified chair, he holds her upright by her bound elbows as he stands behind her.  Glancing out over her arched back shoulder, the pair of clover clamps jiggling, glistening off her puffy nipples, he glances toward Jodi, the tray.  A bamboo shunt on the bottom of the cart, modified with a series of holes drilled along the shaft with a couple ready made straps positioned on either end, he nods toward it.

‘Get that bamboo cane with the straps looped through it, Jodi; slide it behind your sister’s back here.  Be quick or you’ll be wearing it instead of her.’

Instantly obeying, grabbing, sliding the bamboo between her sister’s shoulders and elbows, she holds it steady as he loosens Jessica’s wrist bindings, lifts her right arm up toward the shunt.  Strapping the wrist a foot or so away from her armpit with the outer strap, reaching across, strapping her left wrist in the same manner, he uses the inner straps to secure the bamboo well up behind her pressed elbows.

Gripping a clamped nipple and twisting, a quick tug and he watches Jessica straining to slide her hands inward, her fingers not even close to either armpit, her breasts bouncing, swaying as she twists, contorts to the searing pain of the tensioning clamp.  A smug smile to himself, he’s satisfied her breasts are unprotected, unreachable by her hands.

‘Okay, okay.’  His voice firm, his hands gripping the straps binding her elbows together again, a quick tug, a final one almost forced as she grunts, her shoulders bow back even further into an almost impossible arch, her breasts spreading ever wider, the jiggling nipples pointing apart in nearly opposite directions with the dangling clamps attached to the nubs glistening from her mounting moisture.

‘Now.’  He smiles as he slowly steps around in front of her and cups both mounds in the palms of his upturned hands.  Glancing toward Jodi, he smirks.  ‘These tits are pushed out just about as far as they can go, aren’t they?’

Watching Jodi’s eyes focus downward, trail from one of her sister’s breasts to the other as her lips remain parted with her own deep breathing, he’s more then pleased, his own private little fetish, youthful but big bare breasts forced to bulge outward into firm, globular mounds only made possible by impossibly restricted shoulders arched back till nearly dislocating, and even better, her sister forced to watch, and even participate.

‘Now that we have her tits just about where I want them, lets use something on the tray to help get that tight little ass of hers in the proper position, and believe it or not, it’ll even push those tits out even further at the same time.’

Having Jodi continuing to watch, actually wanting her too, taking his time, fingering a chrome hook, his specially designed thick hook with a bulb twice the size of a golf ball on the short end, the eyelet on the long end large enough for its short strap to pass through, he holds it up for her to get a better look.

‘She’s going to be the first to try this out for me.  It’s as thick as a phallus, the short end a good ten inches.’

Watching Jodi’s eyes widening, her head slowly nodding from side to side as she stares toward her sister standing bound and naked, and unaware of what’s about to be done to her with that ominous hook, he again feels that incredible feeling of having one sister watch as he torments, humiliates the other one.

‘Don’t worry, it’s not going to be that unpleasant, and besides, its not going up your ass is it?  At least not for now, huh?’

Palming Jessica’s rump, sensing her feet shuffling a few inches apart as he flicks his finger and thumb harshly between her quivering thighs, guiding the hook to slip down between her butt cheeks, the bulb to press into the natural slit between her legs, sensing the bulb spreading her cuntlips, sliding unobstructed between those twin folds concealing her clit, a tilt of a wrist, a slight tug upwards, he senses her body pressing backwards as she tiptoes, grunts through the gag.

The substantial chrome hook surprisingly sliding into her puckered rectum, the bulb barely hesitant in its ‘plopping’ entry, another tug and her hips thrust back, her buttocks bowing as her naked body arches into a near perfect serpentine position with most of the ten inches disappearing between her butt cheeks.  Reaching up, gripping her elbows, slipping the hook’s strap across the elbow strap, a sharp tug, a second and third and her naked body contorts even further, her breasts bouncing outward toward her spreading fingers as her buttocks thrusts a little further back with each tug.

Stepping around in front of her, her body impossibly contorted as her hands clutch mid air well out from her torso, his eyes are drawn to the perplexed expression on her face partially covered by the straps and flaps encircling her head as tears streak off her cheeks.  Slowly focusing downward toward her jiggling clamped nipples already shimmering with a light coat of perspiration, the hard, globular mounds the size of small grapefruits, on down to her ribcage thrust out almost as much as her breasts, to her belly button flexing above her shaven pubic mound, he again glances toward Jodi, her similarly perplexed stare.

‘Now let’s see what her ass, her cunt looks like now.’  His voice cool as he steps close, turns Jessica around by her shoulders, laying a hand on the ‘tramp stamp’ tribal tattoo above her rounded hump, letting his fingers glide down into the forced deep hollow of the small of her back, he glances down between her butt cheeks, past the impaling hook disappearing inside her rectum.  A quick tug upward causing her to tiptoe from one foot to the other, he slips another finger across her spread labium, into the dark tunnel of her sex revealing the nub of her exposed clit.

Staring back toward Jodi to make certain she’s continuing to watch, again allowing his fingers to glide across the hook, flick the taut strap drawing Jessica’s backside so tight, he steps back around, tweaks both clamps between thumbs and forefingers and holds tight as she tiptoes again.  ‘Now, kneel down on both knees directly in front of her.  I want you to make her cum.  Use your tongue and make her have an orgasm while she’s still wearing these clamps or we’ll be switching the two of you.  You’ve got three minutes, understand, Jodi?’  And, stick that ass of yours up in front of me and spread wide.’

End Part Three  

   

  

   

        

          

THE CLOSET

Part Four

Chapter One

       The Florida Keys, Key West to be exact.  That time of year again, Halloween, Mardi Gra, Carnival, bits and pieces of all wrapped into the week long event on the southern most tip of the Continental United States.  Bringing the sisters, both developing into tentative but mostly cooperative submissives, the thoughts of showing them off, publicly and privately humiliating, punishing them in such a celebration of debauchery will certainly make this his most enjoyable trip down here, ever.  And, there’s been some more then memorial occasions over the past couple decades with his annual participation.

       The motor coach decked out, more expensive then most small mansions, it’s equipped for the event.  Luxurious in most upper class ways, yet with the special area in the matching custom built enclosed trailer equipped for his domineering lifestyle towed behind, he’s welcomed, even requested in more then a few of the hottest spots for the more hardcore celebrations, and exhibitions.

       Maneuvering the lone route into the Keys, a roadside stop for campers along the western coast, a favorite spot of his for the first stop to spend a late afternoon and night usually preparing his girl of choice for the festivities, now he has the pair of them to enjoy.  Time to let them get use to being pretty much naked for the duration of the trip, maybe the tiniest of thong bikinis, maybe a couple accessories like stilettos and occasional sunglasses, their bodies will be bronzed from head to toe by the time its time to head back north.

       The same preferred double parking pad reserved, the perfect view of the water in the center of the park, like a castle among huts, the motor coach makes its presence immediately felt in the nearly full site as it pulls to stop.  The early evening’s about to become a lot more interesting for the unexpected tourists.

       Glancing back toward the girls already made up, not much more then strings for bikinis, both matching skimpy sets nude colored, the girls are quite the sight.  Nearly perfectly toned, the past few weeks of intense workouts chiseling their already impressive bodies, they appear more like twins then sisters several years apart.  Hair in tight single woven braids hanging behind their shoulders, their bodies evenly tanned sans a tan line, obviously freshly body waxed, little’s left to the imagination with the spaghetti straps disappearing up the crevices of their butt cheeks and the outer edges of the tan ovals of their areolas likewise exposed.

       ‘See what there is of that beach out front?’  Still sitting in the lounge chair size driver’s seat, the view of the crystal bluish-green water, he nods toward the beginning of the sunset, the sky a crimson hue, a postcard setting.  ‘Okay, time to practice for the Key, getting use to showing off some skin, show a little kinkiness.  Go out there and take a stroll; hold hands and dip those bare feet in the water, and while you let the water splash around your ankles, walk on down toward the far end of the park past those campfires they’re starting up where I want you to give each other a nice long French kiss while you hug on each other.  Then, you can turn around and come back nice and slow after you walk out into the water till your tits are submerged.  Then come back and towel each other off before you come back in the coach.  Oh, and don’t disappoint me, keep those shoulders back, chests out, hands stay below your waists until you’re ready to dry one another off,  and don’t cover-up anywhere that somehow gets uncovered, understand?’

Glancing from one girl to the other, he warns.  ‘You should be getting use to my rules by now, don’t make me have to use a crop on those tits before we even get down to Key West itself.  Remember, if you touch your tits for any reason, I’ll whip ‘em and if I punish one of you for an indiscretion, I’ll punish both of you, remember that.  Now, I’m sure we don’t want any welts marring that hard body look you’ve both worked so hard to obtain for this trip, do we?’

       Giving barely noticeable nods, glancing apprehensively toward one another, obediently toward him, he watches, enjoys their looks, the expressions of anticipation, of nervousness as they hesitate to move, to step toward the motor coach’s side door.

‘Go on, get your butts out there, show ‘em off like you’re enjoying yourselves.  Now!  And leave a couple towels on the front of the motor home to dry each other off with.’

Jodi first, Jessica close behind, the door opens.  Watching them step out, the door shutting, glancing through the front glass he watches for the campers, the group that’ll obviously respond as the girls step toward the front of the motor home toward the water.  Appearing even tanner with the setting sun causing their freshly oiled bodies to glisten, the micro outfits even better then having them naked in his mind as the nude colored thongs meld with their flesh tones, he admires his handiwork, appreciates the fact he can have such utter control of not one but two gorgeous girls on this trip.

The short stroll to the water, hand in hand as instructed, their rounded butts nearly bare swaying in unison, they’re quick to draw even more attention then the motor coach.  Stepping into the water, the handful of bathers spread thin staring at what appears to be naked women; they begin their journey up the coastline as he watches.  Slow steps, faces embarrassingly downturned, he can just imagine their thoughts as their ankles splash through the gentle surf past the awestruck men, the equally obviously peeved women taking in their every step.

Past the campfires with a several minute jaunt, finally turning back, a hug and that tongue swallowing kiss, wadding deeper out into the water, he watches as they slowly return to even larger groups of more then curious onlookers.  Followed by a handful of men, boys, obviously being approached, addressed, wading out deeper and deeper, their breasts finally submerged, hair floating in the waters, he continues to watch their expressions, focuses on them making their way back until at last stepping back into the shallower water.

Having quickly become the center of the camp’s attention, chests, waists, hips raising from the shallow surf with each step inward, Jodi’s breasts totally bared by the current, Jessica’s left breast swaying free, again their white knuckled fists clench together as they step onto the sandy beach, make a slow but straight line toward the coach as both of their practically naked bodies beading with body oil continue to glisten in the setting sun.  Reaching the towels, each grabbing one, taking turns they wipe, swipe each other from neck to ankles, breasts bare, the thong’s strings disappearing into their drenched flesh as the onlookers mount.

The door swinging open, Jodi, Jessica stepping inside with wet towels in hand, the door shuts behind them.  Faces flushed, bare flesh shimmering, their eyes remain downcast as they stand obediently side by side facing the front.  A press of a button on the dash, the curtain drawing slowly shut across the front windshield, he gives an acknowledging smile as he reaches for the towels.

‘Go ahead, strip naked and kneel in your proper poses.’

His voice precise, he watches as they obey, kneel, backs of hands on spread thighs, shoulders arching back, breasts jaunting outward, apart, goose bumps, rock hard nipples forming puckered mounds highlight their poses of submissiveness.  Standing, stepping the few steps toward the girls, he glances from one to the other, their eyes properly trained on the floor down in front of them.  Reaching down, fingers gripping Jodi’s string of a top, slipping it out over her breasts, her shoulders, he reaches over toward Jessica, slips the wet string away from her breasts.

‘Slip the bottoms off, leave them on the floor behind you then assume the pose again.’

His order being instantly obeyed in unison, their breasts swaying, jiggling as they slip the bottom strings down past their thighs, their feet, he tosses the pair of bikini tops on the floor beside them.

‘Okay, we’ll let them dry out; you’ll be wearing them time and again for the next week, and if not, maybe even less.’  He smirks as he steps between the pair, cups Jodi’s right breast, Jessica’s left.  ‘You know you’ll be more or less naked most of the time, so get used to it.’ Feeling the coolness, the nipples hard but cold, the goose bumps circling their breasts noticeable to his fingertips, he tweaks each nipple, compares Jodi’s slightly firmer breast to Jessica’s slightly larger.

‘Think you ought to warm those nipples up, get those tits’s circulation to return after being submerged in that cold water?’  He asks as he again cups the same breasts.  ‘Turn, face each other, press those tits together, flatten ‘em nipple to nipple.  Cup your sister’s breasts in the palms of your hands; pull ‘em against your own chests, then tongue each other, deep, deeper and longer then out there.’

Jessica the first to begin to turn, Jodi following, reaching out, palming each other’s breasts, they shuffle their knees awkwardly toward one another, nipples flattening, breasts bulging as they press together.  Leaning forward with their shoulders arching back, faces inches apart; they can’t help staring into one another’s eyes as their nipples disappear into each other’s bulging titflesh.  Knowing quite well how he’s into having them do each other, go down on each other, licking, sucking each others tits, clit for his amusement, they press their tongues outward, between each other’s parted lips.

‘That’s it, yes, now lower your hands, grab your ankles and lean closer together, keep those tits flattened between you while you deep throat each other.’

Hands dropping, faces flattening together as their naked bodies tilt even further forward, he steps slowly around the pair, takes in their shimmering bare flesh, their spreading butt cheeks, their knees touching even as they spread across the floor.

‘Keep those tits grinding together; keep those nipples in line, nubs to nubs until I decide what I want you to do next.’  He instructs as he grips the end of Jessica’s braid, feels the wetness in his fingertips.  Watching their torsos pressed firmly together, their cheeks flushing; he enjoys what he’s forcing them to do, enjoys playing with their minds.  ‘You’re going to play this game for me now before we call it a night.  First one that doesn’t obey quickly enough or enthusiastically enough gets to stand by the windshield for at least an hour with clothespins on each nipple and clit while posing spread-eagled.  I’m sure there’s plenty of curious onlookers’ still out there keeping an eye on the motor home, understand?’

Stepping back toward his seat, sitting, he watches the girls, watches as they perform for him, tongues each other, grinds their breasts together,  anticipates his next instructions.  It could be a long night.    

Chapter Two

       Off the crowded streets of Key West Jodi and Jessica are surrounded by some of the revilers all with the same ideas, body painting for the festivities.  Standing in their sling shot bikinis, even more revealing then the string bikinis of the past night if possible, they’re drawing considerable attention with their freshly waxed bodies while they await their turn to be painted.  Standing off to the side, he’s discussing his ideas, his adamant plans for what he wants done.  Again he’s going to have the best looking of the lot to parade around, this time a matching pair.

       Jodi first, she steps up onto the small podium in the center of the fetish store’s open air courtyard.  Slipping off her one piece thong, she stares straight ahead as she arches, shuffles her feet apart in their six inch stilettos.  The partiers’ on the streets adding to the other onlookers, customers, her naked body already draws considerable attention away from the few others being costumed in their various degrees of body paint around the normally tattoo shop.  A pair of artists, their brushes slashing, twirling, her bare flesh receives the colors, transformed into the realistic likeness of his idea.  An hour give or take, she stands finished.

       Jessica stripping on cue, she takes her place on the podium.  The same rigid pose, the brushes doing their design as the curious onlookers mount, he continues to watch her bronzed body transforming into his idea for her, completing the theme involving her sister.

       ‘There, just what I wanted, perfect.’  His voice pleased, taking in the sister’s appearances, he nods for the girls to follow him inside.  ‘The painting’s done, now to finish your costumes.’  Into the back dressing room with the shop owner and his assistant, the door closed, the items he’s requested are on the counter.  ‘Let’s start with Jodi.’

       Up a step onto the podium in the center of the floor, again assuming the pose exposing herself to what’s to be done to complete her theme, she stares straight ahead, silent.

       ‘She needs a badge on her left tit.’ He nods toward the shop owner.  ‘Pinning it right through the nipple should do.’

       ‘Pierce it first, Tom?’  The owner suggests as he steps closer to the podium, palms Jodi’s bare breast, cups, forces the firm mound to swell for his inspection.  ‘Straight up and down, a vertical piercing first to allow the thicker badge pin through, right?’

       An approving nod, he answers.  ‘Yea, minimal bleeding that way, then the same with her clit, too.’

       ‘Yes, of course, the ‘O’ ring down there to finish off the bottom of her costume.’  The store owner nods in acknowledgement as he steps back a step, watches Jodi’s breast bounce, jiggle to a standstill.  ‘Nice touch, sets off her painted costume just right, I don’t know where you come up with the ideas Tom, you exceed yourself every year it seems.’

       ‘Well, this year, I’ve got this pair to work with.’  He smiles.  ‘Twice the bodies to play with to dazzle the crowds, and the judges.’

       ‘Twice the hot bodies.’  The owner grins as he locates a packaged hypodermic needle, opens it.  ‘Now, no antiseptic, right?’

‘Of course not.’  Tom nods in mock disdain as he glances up toward Jodi’s widening eyes.  ‘She likes some pain; now she’s going to learn it even more intensely in stages.  She’s probably going to wet herself with the piercings, especially the clit.’

‘Okay, she’d allowed to cup her hands behind her neck to push that tit out for this?’

‘Sure.’  Tom nods as he focuses toward the fresh needle being raised toward Jodi.  ‘You heard the man, push that tit out for him.  And, lock your fingers behind your neck and stay that way ‘till he’s done.’

Apprehensively raising her arms, gripping her fingers until white knuckled behind her neck, she’s got that special look in her darting eyes, Tom thinks to himself as he soaks in her responses.  Her obvious anguish both physically and mentally of seeing the needle being pressed ever so closer to her quivering breast excites him, especially with her accepting the piercing without the usual bindings.  But, he knows the thought of her clit being pierced is much more disturbing to her, and that’s what really can’t be hidden by her eyes, and that’s even more exciting to him.

Having Jessica at his side, sensing her well deserved nervousness, he feels even more invigorated as he cups her butt cheek, gently squeezes the firm rump.  Leaning close to her ear as he watches the owner gripping Jodi’s bare breast, press the needle’s tip onto the  upper edge of the puckered nub of her nipple, glancing down at Jessica’s painted breasts, he quietly whispers.  ‘Your turn’s next, just watch how she handles her piercings.’

‘Ahhhh, oohhhhh!’

Jodi grunts, groans as her breast bulges into a multi colored rounded mound between the shop owners’s encircling fingers, the nub swelling even as the needle sinks inward on the puckering areola, her free breast bouncing, swaying while her naked body twitches to each placid jab.  Three, four trusts, the tip finally piercing the hardened nub, her blurring eyes dart downward toward the pain, toward the ‘plopping’ sound of the razor sharp tip breaking, entering flesh.

‘Uuuuuuuuuummmppphhh!’

Her grunt as extended as the time the lower portion of her nipple protrudes downward on the pointed tip of the pushing needle before another ‘plop’ reveals the sharp metal exiting her sensitive flesh; her knees momentarily buckle as tears trails off her cheeks.

‘Okay, okay.’  The shop keeper nods as he slides the needle back and forth a couple times, just a trickle or so of blood oozing onto his fingertips.  Slipping the needle completely though, seeing a bead of crimson on either edge of her nipple, he nods his approval.  ‘Now for the badge.’  A star, a mock sheriff star in one hand, again palming her globular mound in the other, forcing it to swell, the thicker tip of the badge’s pin centers on the oozing hole, disappears down into the swelling nub.

‘Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’

Again her guttural response corresponding with the thick pin impaling its way through her stretching flesh, the tip appearing across the distorted areola, he flicks the reddened pin shut on the tin star’s clasp.

Jiggling, bouncing her breast a couple times in the palm of his hand, stepping back a step, he glances toward Tom, Jessica.  ‘Not bad, huh?’

Squeezing tighter on Jessica’s rump, another glance down over her shoulder toward her own breasts, the areolas, nipples thickening into hardening, puffy nubs, Tom smiles as he glances back toward Jodi, her tears dripping off her chin, streaking across her painted chest, the glistening star standing so high as it jiggles with each rasping breath on her shielded nipple.

‘Yes, perfect.’  Now for her clit.’

Sensing Jessica’s reflexive tremors across his fingertips still on her hip, focusing on Jodi’s welling eyes, he nods toward the podium.  ‘Straighten up; spread those thighs so he can get at that clit.’

A noticeable if brief pleading nod from side to side, her face flushing, Jodi’s feet shuffle while her fists clench behind her dampening hair.  Her knees jerkily parting as she glances back toward the store keeper, that needle again in his fist as he approaches, her eyes roll as she gnaws across her lower lip.  An assistant stepping behind, gripping her buttocks, the shop owner’s free hand reaching out, finger and thumb parting the painted folds of her labium, the pink nub of her clit fully exposed, he squeezes, puffs the nub outward between her quivering thighs.

Eyes connecting, Jodi’s, Tom’s, he feels the surge inside, the sexual excitement as he allows his thumb to slip down into the crevice of Jessica’s buttocks.  Jodi’s parting lips, the tears she stares through, the multi shaded trembling body sporting his idea of her painted costume, he senses the stiffening between his own thighs, his cock throbbing as the store keepers glistening needle presses against the pinkest of flesh up on the podium.

Tugging on Jessica’s shoulder as his thumb finds the rim of her anus; he lifts, guides more then forces her to shuffle around in front of him.  Spreading her butt cheeks, the sounds of Jodi’s whimpers, Jessica’s grunts as he grips his free arm behind her elbows twisting them tightly behind her back, bows her chest outward as he thrusts forward into her obviously moist sex, his groin throbs as he feels the crown of his shaft penetrate, spread her vaginal walls even as the tip of his thumb ‘plops’ past her rectal muscles, jams into her rectum.

‘Aaaaaaaaaaagggggghhhhhh!’

Jodi’s loudest response yet, Jessica’s painted breasts bouncing, swaying as she also grunts with each forced breath, ramming, withdrawing, ramming again his swollen cock presses into her wet vagina, the vaginal walls encompassing his manhood like a slippery, taut glove.

Harsh thrusts, loud grunts, seeing the needle jamming through Jodi’s swelling clit, he slams his thighs across Jessica’s buttocks, watches, senses the surging so deep inside mounting to a near orgasm even as the shop keeper aligns the ‘O’ ring, presses it open with his tool, clamps it into Jodi’s stretched clit.

Her scream, Jessica’s rasping grunts, his shaft pulsing, throbbing, exploding his load deep inside her sex, his legs tremble as his cock again spurts, spurts again deep inside her while he grips her waist with a hand, holds his thighs firmly against her quivering legs.  His own long deep rasping breath, a stiffened stance, Jessica slumping back in his grip, he watches the shop keeper step back, Jodi bow, twist on the podium to finally stager to an upright position, her painfully completed outfit finished, for now.

Her flesh shimmering in perspiration, the designed body paint, mostly blue, black, white, all giving her the appearance of her wearing a disheveled police uniform, the blouse so erotically offered as being ripped wide open across her chest  in skimpy tatters revealing the inner, outer curves, the under-globes of her bare breasts, the also torn trousers hip hugging down to painted hip boots, the shaded belt buckle open, the zipper slid down revealing her cuntlips, then of course the glistening of the badge, the ‘O’ ring gains his attention.  The only items not actually painted over her bare flesh, the badge covering a shaded nipple, the real ‘O’ ring appears to be secured to the bottom rings of a pair of dark straps stretching up across her shoulders, resembling a bandilaro belt.

So exotic, erotic, realistic, he nods at the perfection even as he allows his still semi-erect shaft to slip out from between Jessica’s buttocks.  Glancing down across her shoulder as the shop keeper helps Jodi from the podium, taking in the multiple stripes of Jessica’s just as revealing, painted tattered prisoner’s uniform, he knows he’ll be mounting Jodi as her sister receives her piercings, even more ingenious add-ons to finish her half of his theme.

End Part Four      

    

 

 

       

          

       

       

       

              

THE CLOSET

Part Five

Chapter One

       Serious.  Punishment time.  Disobedience addressed his way.  Stepping around Jodi, her naked body glistening, dripping sweat, the atmospheres’ awash with humidity, the air so thick it leaves a taste in his mouth.  Glancing her over, the leather straps tight, burrowing into her wrists, ankles as she’s stretched spread-eagled onto the balls of her feet.  Fingers clenching on her nearly white hands lacking circulation, her dark hair matted, strands of it clinging across her bare shoulders from the unraveling tight bun on the top of her head, the black satin mask forms across the bridge of her nose, her eyes.  A bright red ‘O’ ring stretching her lips into an almost perfect oval, saliva drools from the corners of the rubber ring to drip off her chin.

       A vat secured with strap tie-downs off in the corner almost full of brine mixed with an equal amount of vinegar, a half dozen or so of freshly cut hickory switches clump together in various degrees of length visible above the open lid.  His hand reaching in the mix, choosing the longest yet thinnest, it drips its moisture on the floorboard as he allows the switch to flex, bow back and forth a couple times in the enclosed trailer’s practically barren area designed by him just for these occasions.  A couple pulleys awaiting use hanging from the metal supports, a singular light affixed between the closed skylights in the center of the flat roofline, the all metal walls, floor and ceiling allows the slightest disturbance to resonate to the ear.

       Watching her body tense, her head to cock as he flips the willowy switch up and down, back and forth close to her swaying breasts as he slowly circles, he enjoys watching the brine flick across her bare flesh, even his own bare chest beginning to glisten from the heat.

       ‘You ready for me to begin, Jodi?’  His voice dripping with sarcasm, knowing she’s perplexed, confused as to why she’s being punished, he allows the center of the switch to flip across the upper curve of her right breast, to rest with just the tip pressing against her left nipple.  ‘How ‘bout a dozen or so for each tit, maybe another dozen for that tight cunt of yours and I’ll see how well you’re holding out before we finish with that little ass.’

       Her response a gargled unintelligible grunt as even more saliva drools out from the ‘O’ ring, allowing the tip of the switch to probe its way into the puckered nub of the nipple, her breast to contort into a flattening globular mound as he pushes inward, he again feels that familiar, welcome rush, the excitement of knowing the anguish he’s causing her even before the red welts begin rising across her glistening flesh.

       ‘Remember, each painful stroke, each welt, each trickle of blood is all because of your sister’s disobedience.’  He quietly instructs as he watches the tip of the switch dig deeper into the inverted nipple, distorting her breast as he slowly rotates his wrist back and forth.  ‘I’m going to start with your right tit, not the pierced one, I’m sure it’s too sore.  So I’m just going to let the switch flick across the areola just above the nub.  Now, push that right tit out for me and nod when you’re ready, if you don’t, the lashing won’t count until you do as you’re told, understand?  I said, understand?  Shove that tit out here or I’ll whip that sore nipple instead.’

       Watching her chin nervously trembling from side to side as her taut body hangs in her bindings, he soaks in that pleasure of intimidating her, humiliating her.  Smirking to himself as she obviously hesitates, finally reluctantly twists her tautly bound body as much as she can to allow her breast to jaunt barely outward while her head gives just the slightest of a nod, he gives the damp switch a flick just off her jerking breast, close enough she can feel the breeze, collect a few flecks of brine.

       ‘We’ll start on the count of three, then the rest is whenever I decide.  Now show some fortitude, don’t disappoint me and be whiney, okay?  One, two, three.’

The familiar sound of the switch swishing through the air along with the flexing arc of the curve, then the reverse bowing of the willowy rod as his wrist twists back, snaps forward, he focuses on the outer portion of the branch flattening into her breast with a crisp ‘thwack’ as her titflesh seems to momentarily envelope it, the breast dividing into two rounded mounds ever so briefly before it bounces, sways to a standstill with a bright red welt instantaneously appearing horizontally across the puckering areola.

Her grunt muffled as she obviously tries not to cry out, her naked body bowing, arching, tensing as her fingers clasp, her toes curl, he stands back a step, allows the switch’s tip to flick back and forth across the floor beside his leg.  The first slashing always so invigorating, he enjoys the special moment, the sensation, the sight of her perfect breast now sporting a perfect welt as it jiggles to a near standstill.

‘That’s the first one Jodi, good girl.’  He whispers in her ear as he steps closer, watches her reflexively try to turn her head away even as noticeable tears streak down a cheek from beneath the mask.  ‘Remember, it’s Jessica who decided to put you through this.  It’s her fault, all her fault you’re being disciplined because she hesitated to have her nipples pierced for your body paintings.  It doesn’t matter how well you two presented yourselves for the contest after that, I don’t forgive the slightest form of disobedience.

Her whimper, her glistening body quivering even in the taut bindings spreading her so wide, he steps slowly around her, allows the switch to flick back and forth, up and down ever so close to her bare flesh.  Positioning off to her left, allowing the tip of the switch to align once more with her left nipple, inspecting the red stripe, he taps once, twice on the welt, watching her breast quiver, her body tense with anguished anticipation.

‘Thwack’

Another flick of the wrist as he takes a half step back for a perfect alignment, the tip of the switch burrowing into the targeted nub exactly where he intended, a corresponding muffled shriek as her body contorts; he smiles at the smidgeon of blood flicking off the bruised nipple. Stepping back again, glancing down toward her parted thighs as a second welt forms, a trickle of yellowish urine dripping from the folds of her labium, he again thinks of how he always plans ahead, disallows any urinating before a workout like this, yea, plenty of fluids consumed, just not urinated for this kind of humiliating result.

‘Two, and on the same tit, ain’t I being considerate?’  He casually acknowledges as he again leans close to her ear, her matted hair as he also glances down to inspect the pair of crimson welts on the quivering mound.  ‘You’re dribbling on the floor, hold it in.  He mocks as he watches her thighs attempt to press as close together as the bindings will allow.  Yea, you should have done your part, prepared Jessica not to embarrass me, not to disobey me in the tattoo parlor by begging off the piercings.  You came down here with me last year, you know better by now.  At least, you should, that’s why you’re being punished instead of her, right now.’

A tap on the trailer door, swinging it open, he glances back toward Jodi.  ‘Speaking of Jessica, here she is now.’

Entering the trailer from the motor home exactly at the time she was ordered, seeing Jodi’s naked breasts drenched in sweat, crisscrossed with a number of thin welts while tautly suspended, Jessica lowers her eyes as her arms fold across her own barely covered breasts.  The door shutting behind her, reflexively allowing her arms to drop, her palms to turn outward beside each thigh, she takes a deep breath of the smothering air, holds it in as he steps beside her.

‘Strip off that bikini, and here’s your choice Jessica.’  He nods as she undoes the micro bikini, drops it to the floor.  Handing her a fresh switch dripping with brine, he adds.  ‘Her cunt, right up that tight little valley across her clit.’  His voice firm as he continues.  ‘Or you take her place like she’s taken yours.’

Glancing again toward Jodi, eyes dropping toward her own bare breasts jaunting outward, nervously swaying as she exhales, Jessica’s fingers clench onto the moist shaft as its tip brushes against the flooring.

‘So go ahead and whip her, but you know that should be you up there.’  He smirks as he allows his crop to drop back into the vat as he grips another of the fresh switches.  ‘You should be the one being disciplined for your disobedience, but it’s your choice, her or you.’

A glance toward the tip of the switch, another toward her sister, down between her thighs, Jessica takes a couple small steps toward the side, awkwardly flicks the switch backhanded.  Hickory smacking damp flesh, the switch snaps across Jodi’s pubic mound, a puffy fold of her labium.

Smiling to himself as Jodi jerks, grunts at the haphazard tap, he nods.  ‘Close I guess, but just kinda’ close.’  Focusing on the thin, streaking welt rising horizontally across Jodi’s bare pubic mound with the tip of his own switch, he adds.  ‘Not quite close enough to her clit though.’  Tapping the nub, watching Jodi’s thighs twitch, he glances back toward Jessica.  ‘One more half ass try like that, I’ll use this switch on you to show you how, understand?’

Watching Jessica’s eyes widening, glancing toward Jodi, her fingers and toes clenching as her body stiffens, obviously hearing his threat as she grunts, again he feels the power, the mounting excitement of not only inflicting pain, but having pain inflicted girl on girl, better yet, sister on sister, both physically and mentally.  Watching the switch limply flicking in Jessica’s grip, her bare breasts jiggling as she again awkwardly steps toward Jodi’s side, he steps between them.

‘Never mind.  Give me that switch.’

His tone firm as he reaches out, takes the switch from Jessica’s reluctant fingers, he holds one in each hand as he steps in front of her.  ‘Hands behind your neck, push those tits out toward me and spread your feet wide.  I think your nipples need a little taste of these switches.’

Frantically arching while spreading her legs, eyes widening as she appears to regretfully obey, breasts bouncing, swaying as she glances down from one jiggling nipple to the other, hesitantly pressing them outward as she shuffles her feet, she gnaws across her lower lip, anxiously focuses on the pair of switches.

‘No piercings, so both can be whipped.’  He rasps as he lifts the switches outward, allows the tips to slip beneath the tan areolas, lifting them upward.  ‘A couple simple piercings and neither of you would be going through this right now; you realize that, don’t you?’

Waiting for Jessica’s response, her eyes watering, breasts quivering as she responds to the tips of the switches pressing deeper into her swelling mounds, again he enjoys the titillating sensation of causing such discomfort, apprehension to not one but the two naked girls under his control.

A couple more twists of the branches’ tips deeper into her bulging breasts, starring straight into Jessica’s welling eyes, he holds firm for a few seconds, finally lowers the switches, watches her flattened breasts spring back, sway to a standstill.  “You know, I should just send you home to pack your bags.  Just because you’re willing to be disciplined now in the privacy of this trailer doesn’t make me any happier with your overall attitude.’  Again a glance into her eyes, back toward her melon sized breasts jaunting apart, the nipples turning a reddish hue from being manipulated, his thoughts turn to really humiliating her, mentally beating her down.

‘Listen up Jessica, a hand behind your back, then cup a tit with the other.  I want you to shove it up to your lips, suck on it while I give the other nipple a couple taps.’

Focusing on her expression, the fear in her eyes, the anxiety, even the embarrassment, he keeps his expression of sternness as he watches her left hand hesitantly slipping around her backside, the other palming her right breast from below.  Glancing toward Jodi’s drenched body suspended beside them, back toward Jessica’s flesh beginning to bead with her own perspiration, he flips the tip of the switch upward beneath the puckering nub of her left areola.

‘I said start sucking, licking on that tit, girl.’

‘Thwack.’

A light, not so harsh flick of the switch, her nipple jerking as the switch stingingly flicks across its nub, Jessica grunts as her parted lips slip across her right nipple.  A couple light warning taps following across her bare breast, grunting, sucking, her face reddens as she squints, attempts to follow the switch being teasingly played across her bare flesh.

‘Nibble on it, stretch that tit with your teeth, let me see you bite down or the next one won’t be a flick, it’ll draw blood.’

Grunting, grunting again as her eyes momentarily raise toward the ominous switch, her free hand clenches into a tight fist behind the small of her back.  Teeth clenching down, neck craning forward, head snapping back, her spreading fingers, thumb slips down off her stretching breast as the areola, nipple disappear between her parted lips.  Again palming, cupping the contorting mound with clenching fingers, head beginning to bob back and forth, her free breast bounces, sways as the switch’s tip glides ominously around its areola.

‘Yea, that’s it, keep working, yea, now slip your other hand on around and find your clit, give it a tug, stroke it while you keep sucking your tit.’  He orders as he watches her crimson face pressing against her bulging tit flesh while her hand slips between her quivering thighs.  ‘Slide a finger in that slit, pinch that clit and stretch it.  Get into it; grind that pussy with a couple fingers.  Work yourself.’  Again watching her humiliatingly obey, thinking of her  continuous stubbornness, even her disobeying him by begging off the piercings brings a sort of satisfaction as he enjoys the degrees of humiliating her, melding her into what she will inevitably become, eventually like her sister still spread-eagled in her bindings off to the side.

Tracing her jiggling nipple with the tip of the switch, watching her body reflexively twitching, picking up momentum, glancing toward Jodi, her taut naked body shimmering with sweat, glancing back toward Jessica, he slips the switch up across her cheek with a new idea.  “Want to keep sucking on that tit of yours or eat your sister’s pussy?  Your choice, shuffle around and start sucking her cunt or clamp down and stretch that tit way out with your teeth, which is it?’

Her eyes darting toward him, toward Jodi, back toward him, her face an even deeper shade of red; she allows her breast to slip from her parting teeth, her lips as she shifts around one knee in front of the other, crouches between Jodi’s spread thighs, quietly moans while she presses her face across her sister’s crotch as she sinks her spreading fingers across her buttocks.

A smirk as he grips both switches in the same hand, thinking of not that long ago Jodi’s butt being spread as she serviced Jessica on her knees, he lays his free hand across her shoulder while leaning closer to her ear.  ‘Push that ass up here and keep licking.’

End Part Five

     

     

         

THE CLOSET

Part Six

Chapter One

       The exclusive gathering.  The handful of regulars that are brought together annually for a private evening of debauchery.  Never having offered one of his own submissives, the exhibitions easily becoming too brutal for their long term well being, he waits for the curtain to be drawn to start the evening’s festivities as he thinks of Jessica and Jodi being left back at the motor home.

       Black silk eye masks a given, most partakers not giving out their identities to everyone present, only the Master of the estate knows each and every participant by name including the half dozen or so female guests making up about a quarter of the group, excluding the submissives, naturally.

       Lights dimming, curtain spreading, the stage has its initial occupant.  A young female, blue eyed, blond hair strictly drawn back, petite in height but with a Barbie type body of almost unnatural curves, she faces forward on her not so spread knees, fingers gripping opposite ankles with shoulders well back in a standard submissive pose.  A hush as the podium beneath her begins a gentle clockwise rotation, her eyes remain focused straight forward as her body’s displayed, the token tribal tattoo across the small of her back, another tat above a shoulder contrasting with her creamy white complexion.

       Curiously no shackles as yet, her body void of hair from the neck down, he finds himself enthralled by her looks even though he obviously has a thing for darker complexioned brunettes.  Eyeing her assets, the firm globular mounds highlighted by their almost pink areolas and nipples forming puffy little cones, further down between her thighs just a wisp of labia folds spreading open exposing her pinkish clit, he remains as quiet as the rest of the group while her right hand slips away from her ankle to pick up a black leather riding crop with the only sound in the room the whirring mechanism of the gear driven podium.

       Interestingly no one else on the podium to accept the crop, her backside passing from full view, again her breasts already substantial, they appear even larger as her left side rotates toward the front with that firm mound fully exposed, jaunting outward from her thrust back shoulder.

       ‘Thwack!’

       The sound of willowy leather striking flesh, her left breast flattening, bouncing, the nipple jiggling, a bemused murmur breaks the silence in the room as the blonde’s body jerks to a standstill beneath the crop’s stinging slash from her own hand.

       Watching her arm arching back again, the crop gripped in her clenching fingers, once more the slow motion of the crop rising back, snapping forward, the sound of leather smacking across her nipple echoes above the purr of the podium’s mechanism as her breast bounces to a slight jiggle beneath its second red welt.  Focusing on her breast, on her expression, catching a glimpse of her eyes seemingly making contact with his own, he can envision Jodi, maybe Jessica doing something of the same, whipping themselves in front of a group like this.

       A third self inflicted slash, followed by an almost immediate forth as the podium rotates; her body begins to glisten, the red welts crisscrossing the same target of her puckering nipple.  Again facing toward the front, the audience seemingly gathering closer and closer, he finds himself wandering to just a few feet away from her off to the side.  Soaking in the exhibition, exhilarated with the sound of the crop contacting flesh, even the whimpers of her barely audible grunts, he takes in her little nuances, the nibbling of her lower lip with each self abusing thrashing, the blinking of her brilliantly blue eyes welling with yet to flow tears, even the second time of locking eyes, even if just briefly.

       ‘She’ll do virtually anything I instruct her too.’  The voice familiar, someone with a series of submissives almost as impressive as his own, he continues to watch the circling podium, the stinging lashings from the girl’s own hand across that same breast as he realizes who’s standing beside him.

       ‘A dozen, then she’ll spread those knees nice and wide, concentrate on her clit for at least another half dozen or so if I give her the signal.’

       Still staring forward, knowing it’s harmless to converse with him, he nods.  ‘How old?’

       ‘Just turned nineteen.’  The voice hesitating to the crack of another lashing.  ‘Had her for almost a year now, well trained, disciplined.  You like her don’t you, kind of mesmerized by her, huh?’

       ‘Looks like a friggen’ doll, unreal curves.’

       ‘All natural, almost freakish.’  The voice continues.  ‘Has piercings just about everywhere that counts, just have her void of jewelry tonight for the little exhibition.  Obviously can handle pain, too.  And, she’s available for a private session to the right person with a comparable trade, if you know what I mean.’

       ‘Any ideas?’  Responding, intrigued, knowing he borders on dishing out serious harm, yet seems to always stay just within the boundaries, he keeps count of the girl’s self inflicted flogging, now at eleven.  ‘One more, then the cunt?’

       ‘If you want, I’ll give the nod, but, I have a proposition that involves sharing.  Sharing something you have control of.’

       ‘A mutual trade off?’  Knowing what’s happening, watching the glistening body of the blonde quivering, jerking to her self inflicted pain as she rotates, he nods.  ‘Which one?  Jodi or Jess.’

       ‘Actually, both.  The weekend with both while you can do just about anything you want with her.’  The voice cuts in.  “I’ll use restraint; just want to enjoy the pair of ‘em pretty much like you’ve been, but, some mild discipline of course.  What cha’ think, agreed?  The podium’s circling; want to see that tight little slit of hers cropped right in front of your eyes right now?

       ‘Agreed.  But, one weekend night with my girls, I get both nights with yours.  And, don’t let her hurt that cunt too much, I don’t want damaged goods.’

       Again the eye contact as the blonde completes another cycle, faces the pair, her eyes showing a trace of streaking mascara, she stares toward her Master’s reactions, her chin quivering an obviously nervous nod as she shuffles her knees, spreads wide.  Thrusting her hips, her pubic mound forced upward, her arm in an awkward position as the crop raises above her head, the bowing leather snaps downward, the tip disappearing between the spread folds of her labium.

       More hushed gasps suppressing the sound of the crop striking her most sensitive flesh, her head jerking back, breasts jolting upward and away from one another off her arched chest crisscrossed with crimson stripes, the instantaneous welt down across her pubic mound traces into the dark tunnel of her sex.

       ‘More then a couple more down there like that and you might be right, then again one or two’s worth watching.’

The voice beside him jolting him back to the conversation, focusing on the girl’s spread thighs, the visible quivering of her bared vagina with that bright red welt freshly rising, he nods as he visualizes what she can do for him, and with the girls.  ‘A couple more sounds just about right. Then she’s mine for the weekend starting tomorrow?  You can have Jodi and Jessica, all tomorrow night but I get the whole weekend with her?’

Another lashing, yet another as the reddish stripes mount between her thighs, tears drip from her cheeks, streaks across her breasts as her eyes remain trained toward her Master.  Her naked body glistening, breasts jerking, swaying, teeth gritting, a grunting contortion of her body and the harshest lashing of the group flattens across her labium just as he nods to allow the flogging to stop.

‘She’s yours to take with you later tonight if you want; I’ve got other plans anyway.  A serious sadomasochistic gathering I’m attending in about an hour.  It’s a hush hush urban legend type of gathering you’ve got to see to believe.  You’re welcome to join me as my guest but I’ve got to warn you, it’s a different world compared to your style of handling your girls, what‘cha think, wanna’ see some real punishment for the rest of the evening?  It’ll be intense, sometimes brutal and worse.’

Glancing toward the girl again kneeling in her submissive pose in front of the onlookers, listening to the proposition while focusing on the series of welts contrasting with her shimmering milky complexion, he nods.  ‘We’ll leave her here for the next few hours?’

‘She’ll be chaperoned while we’re gone, you’ll be back by midnight to pick her up.’

Thinking of the girl still staring toward them, thinking of the offer to be a guest at a gathering he’s only heard rumors of, he nods, agrees to the offer.

End Part Six…  WARNING, the next chapter will be the longest so far.  Along with being intense, at times it’ll be extremely harsh. 

  

       

  

       

       

       

       

               

THE CLOSET

Part Seven

Chapter One

A short limo ride up through a couple of the Keys, the shadowy drive onto the estate’s guarded grounds; the sadomasochistic evening begins once they enter the stereotypical southern style mansion.  From luxurious surroundings to harsh, the select group once assembled enters the chamber in utter silence, just as expected of them.  Four women shackled along the far wall, worn and tattered burlap sack cloth making up their only garments, he realizes that with just a little cleanup they’d appear none the worse for wear, at least for the moment.  Each with a wrought iron neck collar with its dull chain attached to their matching wrist cuffs in front of them, they stand or kneel barefoot on the redbrick floor.  A setting out of the medieval era, torch mimicked lighting on the walls, various torture devices, only the modern day studio equipment off to the side contrasts with the background’s theme.

Glancing toward the women, he focuses from one to the other beginning right to left as his group slowly passes by in single file.  The first dark complexioned, her short cropped hair evenly trimmed, the sack can barely conceal her breasts, hips as the tattered cloth leaves little to the imagination.  Not so large breasts, not so slender hips, her face even under the torchlight appears on the cute, even attractive side.

The next appearing to be the youngest, a breast actually fully exposed jaunting firmly outward between her shackled arms; the nipple appears bruised as does the sides of both her thighs.  Blond hair twisted in a knotted ponytail hanging across a shoulder, her eyes are the widest, the pupils a dull bluish-green.  Actually quite pretty, her complexion fair, she also appears the most nervous as she crouches on a knee with her face tilted downward toward the disheveled sack that she seems to be trying to hold together.

The third appearing the oldest, maybe pushing late twenties, possibly thirty, her auburn hair not quite actually red, her pale skin also seems heavily covered with light freckles.  Possibly the best proportioned body of the group, her breasts pressing the burlap out enough for the tattered cloth to hang straight down across her stomach, her long legs could be considered elegant, the calves sleek as she stands upright, almost defiant with a piercing stare of her brilliant blue eyes.

The forth and final shackled woman’s naturally jet black hair, her face appearing not quite Asian, not quite European, her dark looks’ near exotic as her breasts jaunt widely apart beneath the torn cloth, the globular mounds the largest of the group with the puffy silhouettes of her thick nipples protruding against the burlap.  Her hips very possibly the smallest of the foursome, her olive toned skin shimmering as her dark, dark eyes appear somewhat blank, she seems somewhat subdued while gazing back down from the group.

It’s obvious to him as the group steps past the unfortunate collection toward another doorway all the women have something in common; all appear attractive and like they’ve just recently been forced into the tattered sack remnants.

A second room, basically stark and foreboding, one woman, totally naked and spread-eagled on a podium near the center of the floor with a bright red ball gag forced deeply between her yawning lips; she’s apparently the initial offering for the evening as the door shuts behind them.  Obviously body waxed and oiled with hair slicked back, appearing to be in her mid twenties, the ropes burrow into her wrists, ankles as she tiptoes from one foot to the other, rasps for breath.  The group allowed to position themselves around the podium in prearranged stools; he takes in her overall look of helplessness, fear, humiliation as her eyes dart toward the ceiling, the creaking ropes tautly stretching down to her wrists from a couple of the swaying pulleys.

His sponsor setting down beside him, sensing his excitement, the lights begin to dim around the room.  Looking up toward her naked body now lit from a singular light from above, the shadowy contours of her glistening form seems so erotic as her stomach hollows with each rasping breath.  Mostly silence until footsteps from behind, in a matter of moments the hulking, hooded figure in an all black robe makes his way toward the stage.

A couple steps up to the platform in the deathly quiet room, positioning himself beside the suddenly wild-eyed woman as she struggles to twist, turn away in her restraints, the sleeve draws back on his muscular arm as he raises a hand, backhands, forehands her across one cheek, the other.  The echoing ‘smacks’ of open fist slapping her contorting face not once but twice in rapid succession, her corresponding grunts through the glistening ball-gag, he steps further behind her, reaches around her ribcage and grips a bare breast.  Harsher grunts from her stretched lips while his fingers clench, twist the firm flesh of the globular mound, her nipple grotesquely swells between his thumb and forefinger as his fingernails dig in.

His free hand sliding around from her other side, reaching up, cupping and tugging at that glistening mound, her naked body defensively arches as her neck cranes back.  More screeches, her body flexing, contorting as his fingers twist, obviously painfully burrow into her flesh, the discoloring mounds stretching outward in his grip, it’s also obvious his filed fingernails are more then just scrapping but drawing speckles of blood.

One hand dropping away, quickly clenching into a tight fist, a resounding ‘smack’ draws a muffled yelp from the gag as her breast jerks, bounces under the blow of a harsh uppercut.  The other hand slipping away with it to forming a fist, another roundhouse form her other side pounds into her titflesh with a dull ‘thud’.  Back and forth, smacks, grunts, breasts flailing, elongating from side to side, smacking together as her naked body contorts in the taut ropes; the brief assault from behind her seeming so much longer as he leans forward in his chair, he takes in the brutal display in utter silence.

Another noticeable set of footsteps from behind, another hulking participant stepping through the group toward the platform in a crimson colored robe, the couple creaking steps up the wooden stairs and he wastes no time in smacking her across the face, plunging a fist into her flexing stomach as the black robed assailant stands behind her, hands sliding down firmly gripping her hips.  Saliva spurting from her gag, her body arching, bending as her fingers, toes clench midair, another smash into her flexing stomach muscles, another and another across her  bruised breasts, down across her pubic mound, her head slams forward as her body shakes in jerking spasms.

Coughing, wheezing, her blurring eyes again darting  wildly as her head somehow jerks upwards and side to side as if she’s trying to find some sort of relief from someone, anyone of the onlookers,  it’s apparent the initial assailant’s black robes’ parting with his hips pushing forward against her buttocks.

A pitiful long, harsh screech from the drooling gag as her body hyperflexes in his grasp of her waist, her dark pupils rolling up into her eyelids, the thickness of his shaft penetrating her rectum, tearing, plunging inward toward her bowels, the crimson robed tormentor steps closer to her side, jams two, three thick fingers between her thighs from the front, thrusting, probing between her stretching labium as her spread hips quiver, bounce on the thrusting shaft impaling her from behind.  His forth finger followed by the thumb, the muscular arm ramming repeatedly upwards, her naked body drenched in sweat jerks sporadically back and forth in the creaking ropes, her head twisting, breasts flailing as both orifices are stretched, abused in full view of the onlookers.

Watching with somewhat mixed emotions, the sight brutal with the obvious signs of blood oozing from her thighs, her breasts as she borders on unconsciousness, he senses the sadistic excitement of his acquaintance’s animated reactions next to him, his enthusiasm obvious as he leans forward, gripping his knees with tightened knuckles, responding to each blow, each brutal penetration of the suffering woman as if he’s also a participant in dishing out her punishment.

Can’t help from thinking of his own recent girls, of his treatment of his own submissives throughout the years even, he tends to think that he himself is more humane, not so sadistic in his tastes, not that their pain to a degree doesn’t excite him.  Then again he doesn’t really like seriously harming, doing permanent physical damage to any of his stable, unless of course, it’s deserved.

More footsteps, yet another robed individual, yet another distinctive color of deep purple, he steps through the group practically dragging the young blond from the other room, her fraying ponytail swaying behind her iron collar as she shuffles behind him in her clanking chains.  Onto the stage, the other men stepping away from the spread-eagled slumping body of their initial victim limply quivering in the taut ropes, the blonds’ grabbed by either shoulder as her chains are harshly removed and tossed off the stage.  Physically forced to kneel, the black robed man’s foot pressing into the small of her back, her arms arched back behind her in his hulking fists with her elbows nearly pressed together, the sack’s torn from her body, her bare breasts jaunting outward, milky white with pert, pinkish nipples already with faint bruises.

Her eyes terrifyingly wide as they catch a glimpse of the naked and bleeding body suspended up in front of her, her head twisting from side to side as she’s bowed backwards into an awkward serpentine type arch while her knees scrape further apart on the podium’s wooden surface, the three assailants surround her, the other two with wide, barber straps in their fists.  Positioned on either side of her as her chest is forced even further upward and outward with the boot thrust harshly against her backside, her arms twisted, abnormally contorted behind her, the straps simultaneously curl forward in matching fists, flail toward her hardening breasts spreading apart into firm, rounded mounds.

A series of ‘thwacks’ resounding across the room, her breasts flattening, bouncing, stretching as they quickly discolor from milky to crimson, to purplish bruises, her anguished grunts are muffled by the constant smacking of damp leather mostly across bare titflesh.  More then a dozen lashings, closer to a score, the ever curling straps also leaving their wide, bruising imprints across her hollowed stomach, shaven pubic mound, the girl’s obviously horrified, barely coherent as she’s forcefully bowed forward, slammed face down onto the platform, ropes looped, twisted around her wrists before she can try to fully curl into a defensively fetus position.

Arms hoisted above her head as she’s jerked, slammed around, shuffled to the front of the stretched but otherwise limp woman spread-eagled in the restraints behind her, the ends of the ropes tugged upwards, wrapped, wrapped again around those battered breasts, the backs of her hands flatten into those swollen mounds as her own legs are severely bent at the knees, ankles bound to thighs.  Lifted completely up off the floor with her backside pressing against the front side of  the barely conscious woman behind her, the weight of her body pulling downward on those bulging breasts above her, her bound knees are forced strictly apart, roped out to the woman’s spread ankles.

The sight of the women bound together, both facing forward in their own spread-eagled configurations, everything seems to be almost surreal, all happening so quickly, so brutally, he thinks as he can’t help glancing down toward his acquaintances’ white knuckles, the hands on knees still almost reflexively going along with the assailant’s motions.

The blonde again the center of attention, the three robed men position themselves to continue with her workout, her brutal treatment.  A jet black ‘O’ ring stuffed inside her mouth as her lips are forced to their limits, what appears like a toothpick pressed vertically into each eyelid forcing her eyes to remain wide open, the whites showing completely around the nearly turquoise pupils, tears well, drip off her cheeks as her fingers clench, spread apart while pressing into the purplish titflesh of the woman behind her.

The trio of tormentors positioning themselves around her, a breast clamp of a pair of curved wooden slats pressed across her chest, hands gripping, centering her bruised mounds to press between the slates forming to her torso, screws tightened in unison on the outer sides of her quickly bulging breasts and each turn of a screw draws the slates tighter and tighter.

Her body bowing outwards as her grotesquely wide eyes dart downward while she grunts with each harsher turn, her fingers clench, flex, clench again as the contoured slates appear to nearly touch deep into her titflesh.  The bruised mounds discoloring to a darkish purple shade, the stretching areolas nearly translucent, the black robed tormentor takes the lead as the other pair step to either side.

Long skewers, glistening chrome in his hand, taking one, pointing it vertical to the top slate of the breast clamp directly above her left breast, shoving downward, her shriek echoes across the room as he continues a deliberately slow thrust downwards.  Her breast appearing to jiggle, saliva drooling, dripping off her chin, again her body spasms as the crimson tip of the skewer appears beneath the lower clamp.  Stepping toward her other side with another skewer in hand while her head cranes, her welling eyes glare as the glistening instrument’s aligned above her right breast. An even more deliberate thrust with a slow steady motion, that bulging breast appearing to quiver as her head rears back against the hollowing stomach behind her, another guttural grunt and the tip of the reddish skewer appears beneath the clamp.

Continuing to watch, the use of the cruel instruments brutal as several rows of skewers are applied with the final set rammed directly into the nubs of her nipples, the hysterical blonde finally appears to slump to unconsciousness.  He again feels that strange uncomfortable sensation, finds the exhibition obsessive, the punishment too sadistic to be appreciated for his own taste.  Yet, his acquaintance next to him seeming almost consumed be the girl’s tortures, he has to wonder about his own girls later being given over to him, even for an evening.

Another murmur as footsteps approach from the rear, yet another full length robe covering a hulking man, this of pure white, the freckled complexioned, auburn haired woman’s being led by a gripped breast swollen, bulging between his clenching fingertips.  Stumbling, nearly tripping as her piercing eyes remain sharply focused as she’s led toward the stage with his forefinger, thumb slipping to her stretching nipple, the chains and collar already removed leaving their bruising marks, her hands now bound by a leather strap behind her back, she stumbles onto the platform, slips to her knees as his fist jerks downwards.

Mouth forced wide, lips spreading apart in gripping fingers, his monstrous shaft slipping out from the slit in his robe, she gurgles as it plunges between her teeth while he grips her bound wrists, forces her arms upward, bowing toward him high above her backside.  The crimson robed man stepping behind her spreading buttocks being forced ever higher, his cock swaying, huge and glistening as it probes outward between the garment’s slit, a forceful thrust and its rammed harshly between her quivering thighs.  Both men already at least halfway into her orifices with single plunges, both thrusting simultaneously, her naked body bows, her breasts jerk, bounce together as her fingers clench high above her back.

Smacking sounds, gurgling breaths as she’s impaled from either end stroke after angry stroke, the black robed assailant steps beside her with a short bullwhip.  The ominous pencil thin leather dripping with moisture, the end appearing split-tailed, he appears to align himself with her breasts dangling, swaying back and forth down from her contorting body already beginning to glisten with perspiration as she grunts, gasps between continuously harsh thrusts.

The swishing sound of the bowing shaft, the instantaneous ‘smacking’ of damp leather burrowing into contorting tit flesh,  her naked body lurches as a breast flattens, elongates, smacks against the other.  Another harsh backhanded stroke of the whip, another resounding ‘smack’ corresponding with her body arching from burrowing thrusts from either end, she again lurches, twists as her tautly straight arms remain twisted up behind her back by a firm hand.  Back and forth, a breast singled out, then both a couple times, then individually again, the red welts crisscross, overlap her quickly discoloring and bleeding breasts even as her glistening body spasms to the cadence of the impaling shafts plunging into her spread orifices.

The sight of the carnage, the semiconscious women suspended together behind the redhead being brutalized, again he wonders at the unnecessary viciousness and haste of the exhibition, the waste of such good-looking women in such quick succession when a single woman could still be exhibited, exercised without so much obviously permanent injuries.  Sensing a hand on his knee, the voice rasps in his ear.

‘Thomas, I’ve a surprise for you, come with me.’

Glancing over toward the smirking face, ignoring the sounds from the stage still buzzing in his ears, he stands, follows his companion toward the back, the door.  Leaving the others as the door shuts behind them, the lone girl left shackled to the wall by the chocker collar’s short chain, he feels a hand on his shoulder.

‘She’s a present, for the next couple hours at least.’

The exotic girl, now naked with her wrists cuffed behind her back as she’s standing upright, her eyes briefly glance upwards, again back down toward the two men’s feet.  Breasts standing upright, the dark areolas melding smoothly with her nipples perfectly centered on the globular mounds, her stomach gently hollows beneath her defined ribcage with each soft breath.

‘I know what you like, had her especially left out here for you.’

Glancing toward him, back toward her, he nods his approval even as he’s somewhat taken by the surprising offer.  ‘She’s ours?’

‘Actually, yours.’  He answers as he hands out a key.  ‘Take this, it’ll unlock he chain.  The other door there’s a private room for the two of you.’  Nodding back toward the faint sounds behind the door they just left he smiles.  ‘Now, I’m going back in there before it really gets serious, don’t want to miss joining in on the fun enjoy yourself ‘till I come and get you.’

Key in hand as he’s left alone with the girl, watching the door shut, glancing at the other, he steps toward the girl.  Her eyes still lowered, her body visibly trembling, he senses her desperation, anxiety as he unlocks the chain from her collar.  Feeling her bare flesh brushing against him, her breasts rising, lowering as she stands motionless, he slides a hand across her shoulder.  Stepping toward the other door, swinging it open, it appears to be well equipped for whatever he decides to use her for.

End Chapter Seven.