by Jennifer Harrison
On your way back to the stairs you stumble and Mary has to catch you several times. You are not used to those high heels. But I must say that those heels make you move like an angel from heaven. I find it hard to leave you with Mary, watching you carefully totter down the stairs. But I must return to my office to do some work on that difficult scientific paper.
The house remains silent, and I write uneasily for more than an hour. Your image, with that sexy outfit and your bare buttocks, stays shimmering before my eyes. I can’t even finish just another paragraph. No patience. So I put the computer to sleep, push back my chair, and go downstairs.
It sounds like Mary is talking to you in the kitchen. When I open the door you are standing before the big luxury stove we had installed a month ago. A long thin silvery chain is attached to your collar at one end, and Mary is locking the other end to the gleaming copper rail that adorns the front of the stove. “Hello Robert,” she says happily, “I am attaching her, so she can’t run off.”
“She won’t run off, Mary,” I say, “she signed, remember?”
Mary smiles back at me. Having finished locking the chain with a small padlock, she puts the key in her pocket and says that you should be kept leashed. “She signed, yes,” she says, “but we better make sure. One never knows. She may have liked that little arrangement of ours today, but she doesn’t know what she’s in for. I would not be surprised if she sincerely regrets it all tomorrow.”
Looking at your bare arousing backside, I notice how you tremble upon hearing those words. It gives me a nice feeling of power that Mary and I can discuss you like this, as if we don’t care about you being present. It adds to your humiliation.
Taking my hand, Mary says, ”This chain is long enough for her to reach everything she might need here. So she can cook. I told her to prepare a good meal for tonight. Should be fun having her serve the two of us a fine dinner, don’t you think?” She kisses me on my cheek.
“Yes my love,” I answer, and kiss her back on her mouth, “should be fun indeed.”
We both stay in the kitchen for a while, enjoying your clumsy stepping around while inspecting what is in the fully packed fridge and cupboards. When you are finished investigating, you glance at us with uncertain eyes. But then you receive an encouraging nod from Mary, who tells you she wants you to prepare a big and juicy gammon steak with all kinds of goodies. You turn around obediently, take a box with mushrooms from the fridge and start cutting them, while preheating a big frying pan with oil. And while you cook I can’t keep my eyes off your oh so alluring backside.
Mary watches me closely, smiles and then puts her hands on my fly. “You have some particular needs?” she asks teasingly. I nod and see you turn your head to look at me briefly with a fresh blush on your face before turning back to the frying pan. And while Mary zips my pants open and liberates my already half woken member, I say hoarsely: “Hold her for me, please, Mary.”
“Oh my…” Mary says, watching my swiftly hardening flagpole, “You seem quite eager. It’s big!” She walks over to you, grabs you by your auburn hair and pushes your head down over the frying pan. On those shaky heels you have no choice than to steady yourself by grabbing the stove rail, just enough to prevent you from falling. Your face is close to the heat of the oily frying pan in which the cut mushrooms are already beginning to sputter. I quickly step behind you and freely grab your breasts under their silken coverage. And then I thrust my glorious member in between your buttocks.
“Nooo…” I hear you cry…”No please sir…. Not that… sir… not there… NOOO!!!”
But Mary has now grabbed you by the chain, close to your collar and keeps you bent down for me, while at the same time holding your hands firmly imprisoned on the rail. “Come on, Robert!” she shouts, “spear her before she burns her face! I want to see you pleasure yourself with her.”
But I need no encouragement. Clawing into your breasts, I press my proud manhood on your tight, yes, very tight, anus ring. It’s fantastic to feel the soft flesh of your lovely buttocks move against my loins, trying in vain to avoid my probing. A loud scream escapes you as suddenly your sphincter muscle gives in. I slice brutally into you. Your inner flesh is nice and firm to push into. But I press on and sink myself deep into your arsehole, all the way to the roots of my balls. The warmth of your inside, together with your screaming, overwhelms me. It’s almost as if I have split you in two. I can hardly control myself. While hearing Mary cheer me on against the background of your screeching shrieks and begging cries, I savagely rape you, rhythmically heaving you up from and crashing you down on your high heels, burying my face in your neck, and greedily breathing in your scent.
Soon my body contracts and with great force my fluids spurt deep into your bowels, and I enjoy long jolts of incredibly pleasure. And Mary, still cheering, sees it happen. Then she smiles and relaxes her grip on your hands, but coarsely slides her fingers between your wriggling thighs. Even before I retract my hands from your hard nippled breasts and plop out of you, relaxed and fully satisfied, she exclaims: “Robert, would you believe it, the morsel is wet as a mop.”
Not much later, we are served a very satisfying meal, served obligingly by a proudly smiling you, your pretty face still adorned with dried traces of tears, but already quite steady on your heels.
Early that night, as I take Mary to our martial bed, she whispers: “Robert, my love, I need you to fuck me hard, but first let me play with our little servant whore. It’s my turn now, isn’t it…?”
I stumble as I start down the stairs, and make a desperate grab for the stair rail. Mary's hand on my shoulder steadies me, but I am more alarmed by her other hand, which goes to my bare buttocks. And not a sly, fleeting grab, why should she, there's nothing I can do to stop her, even if I wasn't hanging onto the rail for dear life. Her hand wanders over my soft flesh, exploring, and then her fingers slide between my buttocks, poking and prodding.
"Come on, keep walking," she says, and I realise that I have stopped dead, and have even stopped breathing. I resume my clumsy walk down, but her hand remains in place.
At the bottom of the stairs, you take your leave, and Mary shows me the cupboard under the stairs where all the cleaning tools - vacuum cleaner, brush and dustpan, broom, dusters, polish - are kept, telling me that I will be using them tomorrow. She then leads me into the kitchen and takes something from one of the drawers.
"This is your working collar," she says, holding up a stiff leather circlet, about 2 inches wide and surprisingly thick, "you will wear this when you are working, rather than that pretty choker." She waits while I remove the velvet, then places the collar around my neck. It fits snugly and closes with a loud click.
"One other thing," she continues, moving across the kitchen to one of the cupboards and opening it, "if at any point I say to you ‘Punishment’, you will come to this cupboard and take this out." She holds a long, thin cane in her hands, and flexes it threateningly. My eyes widen and I'm filled with fear - I don't want to feel that! I don't want to be punished, ma'am! I'll do whatever you say!
She smiles when she sees the effect the sight of the cane has had on me and, satisfied, she replaces it. Looking at her watch, she says that we have an hour before I need to start cooking the meal, so I should clean the kitchen floor. I take a bucket from under the sink, fill it with water, add the cleaner, and put it on the floor, taking the scrubbing brush which Mary indicates I should use. I get down on all fours to start work.
"Take off your gloves when you're working, Jenny, and put them in your apron pocket," she orders, "spread your knees wide… Wider! Good, I want you to be like that whenever you are on your knees, understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," I respond meekly, and begin working. The threat of the cane makes me work hard, but it still takes me nearly an hour to scrub the entire floor, and by the time I finish, I am sweating a little. After I stand up and empty the bucket, Mary passes me a towel to wipe my brow.
You walk in as Mary is chaining me to the cooker, and I immediately feel nervous as your eyes roam over my body. I wonder why Mary has put the chain on me, but then, as the two of you discuss it, I become even more frightened at the threat of what you might do to me. I begin to wonder again if I have made a terrible mistake but, bitterly, I realise it is too late for regrets now, I will have to live with my decision.
I begin cooking, frying some mushrooms, but when I look around, I see that Mary has opened your trousers and your erection is standing threateningly before you. Suddenly, Mary grabs my hair and starts to force my head down over the cooker until my face is close to the spitting oil. I grab the rail on the cooker and try to push myself back, but Mary is remarkably strong, holding me in a vice like grip. I’m terrified that she intends to force my face into the hot oil and burn me.
"Please, ma'am! You're hurting me! Please, I'm begging you, you'll burn me!"
My pleas have no effect as she holds me in place and urges you to take me. Now I realise what is happening, but I am so frightened that I continue to struggle vainly. I feel your stiff pole between my buttocks and then, to my horror, it is pressing at my back entrance! I've never allowed anyone to do that to me! Even through six years of marriage, I never let my husband do that, and he asked me on many occasions! I finished with several boyfriends who wanted to do that to me! But now, I am about to be anally raped, and there's nothing I can do about it! I beg you not to, I beg for mercy, but you ignore me, and Mary holds me down…
"Aaaaaaaaaaagh!” I scream as you thrust into me. "Oh my God! Aaaaiyeeeeeee!! PL-AAAAAAAH! NOOOO-AAAAAH!! It’s too-AAAAAAAAAARGH!” I scream and cry at the terrible pain as you violate me, forcing yourself deep inside my virgin hole, stretching me beyond any reasonable limit. I am in agony as my tears run down my cheeks and drip into the hot oil, making it spit at me, burning my neck and chest.
Your attack is brutal and merciless, slamming me against the cooker, even lifting me off the floor with the power of your strokes. It feels like you are ripping me apart, and the sound of my screaming reverberates back off the kitchen walls. And then I feel the sudden hotness inside me as your cum fills me. Eventually, you pull out, but the pain remains, just as if you are still deep inside me.
And then I am alone with my tears and my pain, and this strange, horrible feeling in my bowels. Still crying and unable to straighten up fully, I resume cooking, because I know that if I don't, I will be punished, and the thought of that cane still fills me with fear.
Gradually, I calm down, and I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand. My mind also starts to clear, and I start to think about what just happened. I have just been raped, anally raped, the first sex act of my servitude here. It felt awful, and I am still in a lot of pain, but I have survived! I didn't really know what to expect when I came here and signed that contract, but I was pretty sure that it would involve sex of every kind, and domination. In fact, that is what I was hoping for. Well, I just got what I was hoping for, didn't I? I've just been forced to do something I have never done before, and that, in essence, is my ultimate fantasy, the one I hoped to fulfil when I responded to that advert. It just happened a little more quickly, and violently, than I expected. I am now fully initiated into my submissive role, and it feels incredible!
I have the food ready, I put on my gloves, and… How can I go to the dining room with this chain on my neck?
"Excuse me, sir, ma'am," I call out.
"Okay, come through, Jenny," you reply. I am about to say that I can't, when there is a loud click from my collar, and the chain falls to the floor. I reach up, and find that the ring at the front of the collar has sprung open to release me. You must have some kind of remote control and, now free, I pick up the food and take it through, marvelling at how controlled everything is - or should I say, how controlled I am. I present the plates, place the vegetables and potatoes on the table, pour each of you some wine, then take up a position against the wall which Mary indicates, a position where you can both see me if you wish.
You pass a pleasant meal in conversation, ignoring me completely except to indicate for me to give you a little more food or wine. As I stand there passively, I suddenly feel a trickle down the inside of my thigh, and realise that you seed has dripped from my stretched anus. I squeeze my buttocks together, but it is too late, what has already escaped slides down my thigh. I see you look at me, and down at my leg, amused by my embarrassment and shame. Mary throws her napkin in my direction and tells me to clean myself up, which I do, blushing furiously.
"You can take the plates now, Jenny," Mary says, "and bring us a cheese board." I clear away the crockery and find a board and cheeses in the fridge. Arranging them nicely, I deliver them to the table and pour you each a glass of port.
"Thank you, dear," Mary says, "put the leftovers in the dog’s bowl and do the washing up."
I find a metal dish with the word ‘Bitch’ on the side, and scrape in the remains of the meal – gammon rinds, some leftover meat, the spare vegetables, and the excess gravy over the top. It looks like a nice meal for a dog, although I'm surprised that I haven't seen it so far. I put it on the side and then wash up the dishes and pans I have used.
When I have nearly finished, you both come into the kitchen and watch me, which makes me nervous again, wondering what is next. I dry my hands and replace my gloves, then turn to you for my orders.
"Put the dog bowl on the floor, Jenny," you say, and when I have done that, "and now eat it." I look at you in confusion.
"But, sir… what about the dog?"
"We don't have a dog, silly!" Mary laughs, "you will be eating our leftovers, and this is the way you will be eating them. So, down on your knees, and remember what I taught you earlier." Utterly humiliated, I kneel down, my knees far apart, and start to take off my gloves so that I can eat with my fingers.
"Keep the gloves on," you say, "put your hands behind your back, to keep them out of the way." With no other option, I bend forward and start to take the food in my mouth, using my lips and teeth. Now I regret putting the gravy on top, as I get it all over my chin, nose and lips.
"There’s a good doggie!" Mary laughs, "be sure and eat it all up!" I gradually work my way through the food, chewing on the fat, which is quite disgusting, and finally licking the bowl clean at your insistence. I get up and you pass me a towel before walking out, telling me to bring you a brandy when I am cleaned up. Mary follows you, but doesn't tell me to get her a drink, so I go through to the sitting room with just one glass of brandy. You are sitting reading the newspaper, and I give you the glass, which you take without looking at me or saying anything.
"I'll put her to bed," Mary says to you, "I'll see you upstairs soon." I follow Mary out of the room and up to your bedroom, which is huge, with a massive four-poster bed.
"Undress me, Jennifer," she says, and I obey, unzipping and removing her dress, then helping her out of her shoes, stockings, bra and panties, until she stands naked, with no embarrassment or self-consciousness. I can't help looking between her thighs, and see that her pubic bush is very well maintained and tidy, unlike my own. She takes a see-through negligee from one of the drawers and I help her put it on - she looks incredible, and incredibly sexy!
We go to my bedroom and she unlocks my collar and shoes, and tells me to undress, which I do with rather more embarrassment. She then leads me down the corridor to a small bathroom with a toilet, hand basin and shower.
"This is your bathroom, Jennifer," she says, "you will shower in here each morning before you begin work. Now, do your business." Again, feeling terribly self-conscious, I sit down on the toilet under her steely gaze. I have difficulty going whilst being watched, but suddenly a great flood of my excrement and your semen squirts from my anus. I quickly wipe the mess off me and flush the toilet to get rid of the smell. I use the toothbrush and paste provided, then rinse with the mouthwash, and finally brush my hair - although I have brought my own toiletries, they are nowhere to be seen. I wipe off my make-up, and then we return to my bedroom, where Mary tells me to get into bed naked.
"This is your alarm," she says, pointing at the clock on the bedside table, "it is set for 5 AM, and you will get up, do your toilet, then begin your chores, which tomorrow involves cleaning downstairs. You will bring us breakfast in bed - tea with lemon for me, black coffee one sugar for Robert, toast, rolls, ham, cheese, fruit - at 8 AM. Obviously, don't use the vacuum cleaner before we get up!" She moves on to point at the wall, where there is a bell and two light bulbs.
"This is the night bell," she goes on, "if it rings, it means that you are required immediately. If the green light comes on, it means we are in our bedroom, the red light means we are downstairs." She comes over to the bed and tucks the duvet up around my chin.
"You've done very well today, Jennifer," she says in a kind tone, "I think that, if you continue to obey as well as you have done so far, you will be perfect for us. Oh, one thing I nearly forgot to mention. You must not play with yourself without our permission. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am." She leans down and kisses me on the forehead, then goes to the door, switches out the light, and leaves me in total darkness.
I think back over the day, and all the amazing events, including the anal violation which, while awful at the time, now seems to have been an incredible rite of passage. If Mary hadn't just given me that command, I would be playing with myself right now, desperate for an orgasm. As it is, I clamp my thighs together and try to go to sleep, despite my excitement at all the thoughts and memories running through my mind.
I must have fallen asleep, because I wake up in confusion at the sound of a fire alarm. When I manage to recover my wits, I realise that it is the night bell, and the green light is glowing. I’m wanted! I stagger out of bed and make my way blindly to the door. In the corridor, I see the light under your door and head towards it. Feeling an almost overwhelming sense of nervousness, fear and excitement, I knock on the door.
"Come in, Jenny," I hear you say. I turn the handle…
You enter our dimly lit bedroom completely in the nude, more arousing than ever with that fine agile body of yours. I immediately get hard, although, to be honest, I already was quite on my way with Mary in my arms, and with the warm flesh of her big breasts pressing against my chest. But it seems Mary isn’t that much with me. As soon as she hears you (her face being hidden in my neck), she pushes me away and sits straight up in our bed.
I watch her, my wife, my lover. She too is a sight to behold. I love her this way, her hair unkempt, her make up gone, she’s au naturel, and very enchanting with those thick breasts and that provoking rib cage. Almost as sexy as when I, for the first time, watched her luxurious nakedness.
“Come here, Jenny, she whispers, “I need you to get myself a bit in the mood for making love to my husband.”
You slowly get closer to the bed without saying anything, but I can see the nipples grow and harden on your perky breasts. I love breasts when they are delicate like yours, although I also love to suck Mary’s much bigger ones. You have a smaller frame than she has, more tender, less plentiful. You are like a delicate hors d’oeuvre. Mary is more like a rich main course. In that respect I agree with my juicy wife when she wants you to make her hunger for me.
“Come on, don’t stand there like a dummy, dear.” Mary says. “I want to taste you, to use you, to hurt you,” and she opens up the comforter that covers us. But to my surprise, before giving you the opportunity to get in bed with us, she jumps out. You are as surprised as I am and veer back into the shadows of the room.
“… Madam…” you stammer, “I… eh…”
But before you can explain yourself, Mary snaps: “Don’t get it in your head that we love you, dear. Let’s get that straight. Even if we fuck you, you’re no more than our whore to play with. You are here solely for our pleasure. And you will soon discover that it is one of my pleasures to fuck a woman after hurting her well. I am not like my husband. He is more crude. He likes to hurt women while he fucks them. You may have discovered that in the kitchen. But I am less impulsive. I like my pleasure to be more drawn out. And when I am satisfied with the height of sexual arousal you provide me, I just love to be fucked by Robert.”
Saying all that, Mary produces a long silky white cord from a drawer.
Your eyes grow large and sudden fear spreads over your face. But you remain body frozen to the floor. “Hands behind your back.” Mary orders. And you do as she asks, moving your graceful arms behind you. Mary walks around and, although I cannot see it, your trembling body betrays that she’s properly securing your wrists. But even in the semi darkness of our bedroom I can see you blush. Are you getting excited?
Now Mary takes a chair to stand on, and attaches a long piece of rope to a hook in the central beam of our bedroom ceiling. I see how your anxious eyes follow every movement of her firm lush body. The fear has not disappeared. Good. I like that. I’m sure that, just as I do, you think she’ll attach your wrists to the rope and haul them up until your shoulders hurt badly. But it soon becomes clear that Mary has other plans. She takes the chair away and pushes you forward to stand right under that hook, the rope grazing your lovely breasts and rosy nipples.
Then she curls the rope into a loop. You gasp in horror. Mary is making a noose.
“Don’t worry dear,” my wife says to you. “This is just to prevent you from running around,” and she drapes the noose over your head, moving the knot down to tighten its grip on your throat. You are now the very image of helplessness, a nude female angel trembling in the middle of the room, your hands bound behind you, and your movements restricted by the threat of being strangled.
Now I get out of bed too, smiling at the sexy display before my eyes. This is going to be great fun. And with my member firm and erect before me, I hand Mary my belt.
“You think she’s ready, Robert?” she asks me.
I put my hand between your thighs. “Ah, Mary, “ I exclaim, “ she’s dripping wet down here,” and I thrust a probing finger into your femininity. It slides in, meeting no resistance at all. You gasp and try to avoid my assault on that most sensitive crevice of yours, jerking your hips backward, locking my hand. But the rope around your neck immediately tightens, forcing you to straighten up with trembling knees, whimpering, as you have no choice than to allow me to explore the soft warm flesh of your womb.
When I finally retract my finger and wipe my hand on your hair, I hear your low hushed voice: “Please… please sir, ma’am… please… have mercy…” But I can see on your flushed face that you’re fearfully aroused, maybe even as much as we are.
Then, finally, Mary’s hand swipes through the air....
The belt hits you straight across your breasts….
… and you scream beautifully…!
As I enter the room, I feel a mixture of fear and excitement, but also anxiety – I have no idea what might happen in here; at one end of the spectrum, it could be as simple and as banal as a request for a glass of water, at the other end… my mind can’t even imagine what is at the other end of that spectrum.
I see you both in bed and wonder if I will be asked to join you – the prospect excites me! Mary calls me forward, and I envision pleasuring her to get her ready for you. I’ve never done anything with another woman, not even kissed, but I feel aroused at the thought. I move towards her and see her pull back the covers, and I’m more than ready to join you both, do whatever you want me to do. I hope you will educate me, I’m a total novice at this sort of thing, I’ve never been naked before more than one person at a time, usually my ex-husband. But I’m a willing pupil in this relationship.
Instead, Mary jumps out of the bed and comes towards me. I’m scared, intimidated – she is taller, bigger, more powerful than me – and cringe back as she berates me harshly. Did I think you two loved me, she asks. No, I just thought we were going to have some fun…
She talks about hurting me, and scares me even more. I see the rope in her hand and, petrified by fear, I stand helpless as she binds me. it’s not like the play bondage I’ve indulged in before, an excuse for a bit of kinky foreplay. The rope bites into my skin as she pulls it very tight, securing my wrists behind my back. But as she does it, I find my fear turning to arousal – somehow, I want her to do this, to render me helpless, unable to prevent her from forcing me to do whatever she wants…
Now she ties a rope to the ceiling – what is her plan? All I can imagine is myself being bent over, arms high behind me, arse and cunt available for fucking, mouth available for sucking. I find myself even more turned on at those thoughts.
What is she doing?! Ohmygod, it’s a noose!! This can’t be happening! She’s saying something, but I can’t hear over the buzzing in my ears as she puts the noose around my neck and tightens it! FUCK! Excitement is replaced by pure terror! She’s going to kill me, I know she is! And you came over to watch! What have I got myself into, stupid cunt?! You’re going to kill me and, by the look of that stiff member, fuck my lifeless body! Is that it, are you necrophiliacs?!
You are both smiling cruelly and talk about me as if I wasn’t there – or already dead. I feel your fingers inside me – how inappropriate, when you’re about to hang me! – and realise that, despite my abject terror, my body continues to respond. I know I am close to orgasm, but can’t understand how or why…
“Please…” I croak, my voice cracking with fear and lust, “have mercy!”
Without a word, Mary raises her arm high above me and I see the belt for the first time. I stare into her face, and see the excitement and lust there, sending more shivers of fear through me. And then my world explodes in a firework display of pain.
There is a terrible noise in the room, and I realise it’s me, screaming. My breasts are suddenly on fire and with my hands tied behind me, there’s nothing I can do to protect myself. Reflexively, I stumble backwards, trying to get away from the awful pain, but suddenly the rope around my neck tightens dramatically, choking me, stifling my screams. I fight to maintain my balance as I momentarily hang from the noose, unable to breathe and feeling the blood rush to my face. For long seconds I hang there, before regaining my feet. The noose releases a fraction now that my weight is no longer pulling it tight, and I drag in a rasping, laboured breath.
“Mercy?” Mary says in a contemptuous voice, “I don’t remember the clause in the contract which says ‘The Masters will show mercy to The Servant’. Do you, Robert?”
I look desperately, pleadingly at you, hoping against hope for some sympathy there, but see only an amused smile.
“Are you ready to come to bed and let me fuck you, dear, or do you need to work on this silly girl some more to get you in the mood?”
As I look between the two of you, I realise for the first time – this isn’t a game, a bit of fun, a chance for me to play the submissive. This is serious. I have no control, no vote, no say in what happens. My ‘job’ here is merely to endure, to suffer whatever you decide. But why am I still so turned on?!
When I wake up after a very relaxing sleep, with Mary in my arms, I see that you are still lying on the floor next to our bed. Naked and curled up like an innocent baby.
I wake Mary with a kiss, saying that she gave me a sweet night. She kisses me back, still sleepily, and yawns. She too slept very well. We really must have exhausted ourselves last night. The sun is shining outside, piercing the darkness of our bedroom with thin rays of light from behind the curtains. Life is good. Mary stretches her delicious arms high and then embraces me. I lazily roll myself upon her, kissing her breasts. She rolls her head backward into the pillows and breaths hard. It’s so easy to arouse her in the morning. I caress her lovely face and move over to kiss her deeply on her mouth. Her delicious body is perfectly lukewarm and as appealing as always in our early morning bed. She wraps herself around me almost as in a reflex, with both her arms and her legs holding me firmly against her.
Her belly and breasts feel so lovely below me, so meltingly soft and ready, that there is no need for foreplay. So I simply enter her undulating body, showing her very tenderly how much I love her: as much as she loves me. She comes very quickly, panting and clawing her nails into my back. And I… I wet her insides with jets of sperm.
“That was lovely, Robert,” she whispers when we rest ourselves in each other’s arms, “nothing beats being fucked by you in the morning.” She kisses me again but then pushes the sheets down and gets out of bed. “Oh my God!” I hear her exclaim. “Look at that. We are not alone. The girl is still with us!”
I smile back at her. “What do you expect love? She’s still sleeping, just like you were a few minutes ago.”
Mary stays a while standing between our bed and you, lying at her feet, quietly breathing on the rug like a trusting dog. But Mary is not as enchanted with that sight as I am, and kicks your face with her feet. “Wake up slut! I thought you would have had the decency to get back to your room yesterday!”
You wake up with a start and quickly crawl to a corner against the wall. I laugh as I see fear spread over your face. “Don’t you remember, my dear Mary,” I say, “don’t you remember that after you gave her a treat with my belt, she showed us how her body exploded? Weird if you ask me. Looks like she enjoys her pain almost as much as we do.”
“Shit,” you say. “I almost forgot about it. Right, we watched her having an orgasm, after I used her as foreplay. But she should have left us alone after that.”
“She didn’t, Mary. You did not notice it, because of me fucking you so hard. But she stayed to watch us. Imagine, she even fingered herself spying on us.”
“Is that true, Jenny?”
“Yes ma’am… I’m sorry… I didn’t know…”
“I don’t want to hear excuses. I don’t care when you feel pleasure and when not. But I don’t remember giving you my permission to watch us, let alone finger yourself. You’re not part of it when I’m intimate with my husband, unless you are required to partake.” And she adds: “And your services were not required, if I remember well.”
“No ma’am…” you whisper, looking anxiously up to her. “It won’t happen again.”
“Good. Remember, girl, you are to serve us, both of us, and when we are finished with you you must leave, unless we forget to free you in case you are bound. Is that clear? If you derive pleasure from whatever we do, then that’s your problem, not mine. I don't care. Not as long as you serve our purpose. She smiles and continues, “Now listen carefully, girl, I want always to be there when you experience your orgasms. Or Robert, of course. That means you will never finger yourself without us, or to be more specific, if either of us have not given you permission to frig yourself. Not in our presence, not in our absence. Is that clear?”
“Yes… ma’am… I mean no... yes...”
“OK then, get up and follow me to the shower. I want to be properly washed, especially from the load that my husband put into me.”
Slightly hesitant and still with fearful eyes you follow the love of my life to the shower. The bathroom is next door. Soon I hear the water splash. I remain lazy in bed, waiting until you are finished so I can take a bath. The sound of splashing water remains for a long time. I wonder how you are doing and I relish in the idea that you’ll be there for me as well when I get my bath.
Soon a soft moaning can be heard through the wall and I can discern some words. They are Mary’s. “No… not there stupid girl… yesss… come on girl… no… with your mouth, stupid.… “
Some muffled sound from you, and then Mary again… “Harder… harder!!.”
It goes on like that for a while, until Mary’s words change to exclamations, ending in a sudden throaty scream of pure pleasure, drawn out long. It is followed by the sudden sound of someone falling and whimpering. You.
It’s quiet for many minutes after that. Only a few coughing and retching sounds, I guess from you again. The splashing noise of water stops. And Mary reappears at the bedroom door, wrapped in a big white towel.
“That was nice, Robert,” she says with a radiantly smiling face under her wet hair. “She really can be used for anything. We’re lucky she came to us.” And baring her beautiful body to dry her hair, she adds: “Your turn now, love. She’s running your bath. And tell her to make us a good breakfast when she’s done with you…”
I am on the bed, sitting astride your recumbent body, with you buried deep inside me. My arms are above my head, manacles around my wrists chained to the ceiling, but I don't care, I am in heaven, riding you. It feels so good to have you inside me and I rock backwards and forwards, my excitement mounting and mounting, until a glorious orgasm bursts over me. But I don't stop, I carry on rocking, working you, building up towards another wonderful climax.
Suddenly Mary stands alongside me, shouting at me. I try to get off you, but I can't, we seem to be locked together, like dogs in heat! Mary is standing on the bed now, and she raises her foot, kicking me in the face!
I wake up suddenly, feeling the carpet underneath my body and the sting of her kick on my cheek. It was a dream, I was on the floor here all along, but now Mary is really standing over me and her anger is very real. She scares me so much, and I crawl away from her as fast as I can, squeezing myself into a corner and trying to hide behind my knees, drawn up under my chin. Please don't beat me again, ma'am, I silently plead. I’m riven by conflicts – I hate you both but I want to be here with you; I hate being in pain but I want to suffer for you; I’m so frightened but excited at the same time. What is wrong with me?
Mary is clearly annoyed that I was in the room when you were making love, even though I was half dead at the time. She tells me that I should have left when you were done with me, but I didn't know that was what was expected of me! No one told me what I should do! Please don't punish me for something I didn't know!
I apologise profusely, meekly, hoping to assuage her temper with my submission. She tells me that I must not play with myself unless one of you is watching, in fact, not unless one of you has expressly ordered me to. My sex is not to be under my own control. I readily agree to what she tells me, not because I want to, not because I like it, but because I don't want to say anything which might upset her - ever again!
She tells me to follow her into the bathroom, and I do so fearfully - she seems to make me so much more nervous than you, although I'm sure that you can and will be just as cruel as she. But at the moment, she seems to hate me, and that is what is making me so scared, that she might do anything to me whilst in that frame of mind.
I watch as she turns on the shower and steps under the water, wondering what she wants me to do.
"Come here, girl," she orders, pointing down at her feet, "I want you to clean me out after the fucking that Robert gave me earlier." I think I understand what she expects, and I get on my knees in the shower, reaching out towards her pussy with my tongue. I play it over her soft lips, parting them carefully and seeking out her clitoris.
"No, not there, stupid girl, I want you to suck all of the stale cum out of my cunt first." She grabs a handful of my hair and yanks on it painfully, forcing my mouth over her opening. I start to push my tongue inside her and very soon taste your sperm coming down, still warm but now lumpy. It makes me want to be sick, but I have no choice other than to let it dribble into my mouth and then swallow it. Mary holds me there for many minutes, until there is nothing left for me to lick out, she is entirely clean except for her own love juices, which are now running strongly.
I move back to lick her clitoris, and now she begins to react, moaning and urging me to work harder and faster. Again, she forces my face against her body until I can hardly breathe, and I know that I have to make her climax if I want to taste fresh air again! Her thighs are clamped around my head, squeezing harder as she becomes more and more excited, her fingers tangled in my hair as if she were trying to pull it out. I keep lapping away at her, hoping that I can finally satisfy her.
At last, her body starts to shudder and convulse as her orgasm hits her. It seems to go on and on, and I keep straining to lick her, fearful that if I stop too soon, she will be angry at me. In the end, she has had enough of me, and she thrusts me away, sending me sprawling.
"Not bad," she says, looking down at me, "but you require a lot of training. Come, get up, wash me now." She hands me a sponge and I use the soap to get a good lather on it, then gently cleanse her body all over. I wash her legs, buttocks, stomach, and move up to her breasts. I find myself becoming aroused at touching her firm body, so athletic yet so feminine. I massage the soft mounds of her bosom gently before rubbing the sponge over her nipples until they are firm and erect.
On an impulse I lean forward and take one of them between my lips, flicking it with my tongue. She tastes sweet, but a moment later she thrusts me away violently, and I slam painfully into the wall.
“Get those lips away from me, you filthy whore!” she hisses, grabbing me around the neck, “I’ll tell you what to do with that mouth of yours, and when!”
She pushes down on my shoulders, forcing me to my knees, and she stands over me, her legs apart.
"I should have done this earlier," she says absently, as if to herself, then to me, "open your mouth. Wider."
I do so, wondering what is going on. She grips my hair again and pushes my head back until I am staring straight up at her. She seems to concentrate hard, then a little smile comes to her lips. I feel something warm and wet on my chin and then over my bottom lip and into my mouth. Oh my God! She's pissing into my mouth! I try to pull my head away or turn to one side, but she holds me in a vice-like grip as her urine begins to pool in my mouth, followed by a tinkling sound as she continues to fill the pool.
"Swallow it now, like a good whore," she purrs, a broad smile on her face.
"Nnh, Nnnnnh! NNNNH!" I try to shake my head no, but she's holding me too tightly. My mouth is now full, and she has finally finished. She grips my chin in one hand, forcing my jaws together, and the other pinches my nostrils closed, cutting off my air supply!
"I said swallow, cunt!" she hisses, holding my head back. I look up at her, desperately pleading with my eyes, but I need air! At last, I give in to the inevitable, and to my disgust and horror, open my throat and swallow the foul-tasting liquid. When she is sure it is all gone, Mary releases me and I collapse on the tiles, retching and gasping for air. The water, which has been falling on me until now, stops, and I start to shiver, partly from the cold of my wet body, but also in some kind of shock. I want to be sick, I want to make myself sick, but I'm too scared in case it only attracts more punishment.
Eventually, I raise my head and see the bathroom is now empty, Mary is done with me. But I remember that I now have to run a bath for you, and I struggle over to the bath and turn on the water. I wait for you to enter, hoping that you will be kinder and gentler with me and Mary, but fearing the worst.
Despite my disgust at what Mary has made me do, I feel more horny than ever! I didn't really know what to expect when I came here, but it seems that each new degradation is exactly what I wanted. Now I make my way into the bedroom, frightened and excited once again, which seems to be my permanent state of mind at the moment.
Just as I seem to doze off again, I am woken by your voce.
“Sir, your bath is ready.”
I open my eyes lazily and see you stand next to our bed, adorably naked with wet hair and eyes that seem to ask forgiveness for waking me up. I smile at you and sit up in bed.
“Give me a hand Jenny, girl, and help me get out of bed. Is the water the right temperature?”
You answer hesitantly that you believe it is, and offer me your hand with downcast eyes, as if you do not dare to look me in the eyes. I get out, naked as I am, and ask you why you don’t look at me.
“Madame told me not to be too bold sir,” you answer, but I notice that you quickly steal a glance at my member, which hangs flaccidly over its sack after its satisfying exertion this morning. I smile, realizing you apparently still have some special feelings left after that showering party with Mary. So I ask if you enjoyed Mary’s ministrations?
You seem to hesitate. “Yes, sir,” you stammer, “I mean no… eh… well…” You swallow your words and stop speaking.
“I don’t know, sir,” you say uncertain, “depends on what you mean by enjoying.”
I find that a proper answer for someone who just signed a contract obliging her to obey Mary and me in all things. Taking you by your soft wet hand, I let myself be led out of the room and into the bathroom, saying: “Mary can be quite rude, Jenny.”
“Yes sir, I know.”
“I can be as well, as you may remember from yesterday in the kitchen, but sometimes, like now, I don’t feel that much aggressive, so don’t be afraid.” For the first time since you have joined our household, you smile, albeit uncertainly. “That bath looks very appetizing,” I say appreciatively, and I step into the warm water. The tub is quite full and the hotness of the water engulfs me completely. This is heaven. I see you take a bath towel and wait patiently until I’m finished.
“Aren’t you joining me Jenny?”
Without saying a thing you quickly put the towel away and step in. A bit fast, it seems to me.
“Are you eager for sex Jenny? Has Mary’s treatment made you horny for me?”
You blush adorably, nod your head ‘yes’ and by way of a further answer, you sink down into the water. There isn’t much room, so you have no option than to lay yourself down full length upon my body. And suddenly your arms are al around my chest and your mouth close to mine.
“May I kiss you sir?
“You may… if you must.”
I feel your sweet mouth upon my face, frantically kissing me all over, and finally sucking my mouth. You seem hungry for sex, spreading your legs and pressing my flaccid member against your crotch.
“Ho, ho, Jenny, I'm not that quick. Just fucked my wife this morning. Please go slow and wake me up nicely.” And I gently caress your hair.
You obey immediately, and I feel how one hands grabs and encompass my member wile the other carefully kneads my balls. Gradually you give me the feeling that I’m getting back. My hands start groping into your hair, and I press your face to mine. You taste so heavenly and I have to restrain myself not to bite a piece of flesh out of your rosy cheeks. In stead I take your ears with both my hands and pull your head up. A feeling of power overtakes me. And I say: “This, Jenny is also part of that contract you signed. If I tell you to rouse me, you obey, right?”
There is sudden fear in your face, as I pull on your ears like an angry schoolmaster. But if anything, my stern voice seems to arouse you more and you suddenly begin to wildly gyrate you hips, splashing water all over he tub’s rims. “Yes sir, I know,” you say with a hoarse voice, “I will obey… you make me very happy, Sir.”
I still have you by your ears and now look straight into your eyes. “Never forget, girl,” I say, “It’s me who’s in charge of pleasure. Always. Remember that. It’s me who wants to fuck. Now inquire properly if I am enjoying myself.”
“Are you enjoying yourself, sir…. I mean are you enjoying me, sir?”
“Yes, I do !!” And with a swipe I rotate our locked bodies in the bath, suddenly finding myself on top your delectable frame, squirming below me in the water. Having let go of your head I now grope you all over, kneading your soft breasts, rotating your nipples between my fingers making you yelp, eating your mouth and lips, and finally entering your body with my manly weapon, going in and out of you like a wild beast. You sputter, struggle and gasp for air as water splashes over your face and you squirm furiously below me like a trapped animal.
Suddenly, when I’m close to ejecting my sperm into you, you cough loudly and cry: “May I cum, sir… may I cum…??!!”
“Feel free, little slave !!” I answer with a raw voice and immediately I spear myself deep into you and spray my seed high up into your warm belly.
Is that my voice or yours, as we cramp your bodies around each other in the splattering water? It lasts long, this fine pulsing orgasm of mine.
“Thank you, sir…” you whisper, still panting. And then we lay peacefully in each other’s arms for quite some time.
After a while I pull the plug and the water retreats with a gurgling sound, leaving us shiver against each other. “Well,” I say, “You know your duties. Go dry me off and then make Mary and me a big tasty breakfast. Ham and eggs, some tomatoes, champignons. Come on, get up!. I’m getting cold."
You jump up and hurriedly take up the towel. ”After breakfast, and after you have eaten your morning food from your bowl, I want you to go to the garden shed, bring out the carriage and clean it. We’ll take ride later.”
While you dry my body from top to toe, carefully handling my buttocks, my again flaccid prick and my balls hanging loosely between my legs, you smile and seem very happy. I wonder how long that smile will stay on your lips after you have seen our carriage, and noticed that we have no horse to draw it.
I have to wake you up from your doze, which makes me even more nervous - will I provoke you to more violence? But it seems not, you seem to be in a very relaxed mood, which is a great relief to me. I sneak a look at your manhood and see that it is ‘slumbering’ - perhaps I will be able to wake it later…
You ask if I enjoyed my time with Mary. Did I? I don't know, it was demeaning, degrading, disgusting, but at the same time incredibly arousing, even having to drink her piss was incredible! I stumble over my answer, feeling like a moron - you must both think me an idiot, which is probably true, given that I have effectively signed away my freedom. Just thinking about the contract and its consequences makes me hot and, as you get into the bath, I feel my cheeks redden and my breathing become shallow. As I look down at you, wallowing in the hot water, I feel almost overcome by my need…
When you invite me in, I leap at the chance, sliding myself against your wet body. You can tell just how excited I am, and I blush in my transparency, but I don't care, I rub myself against you, grinding my hips, working my groin into you. I have to kiss you, but I ask permission, it seems the right thing to do, especially after Mary's harsh words in the bedroom earlier. When you grant it, I fall upon you hungrily, desperate for you to take me.
You tell me to slow down, and I try to control myself. I take you in my hands and massage you gently but insistently. Gradually, your member comes back to life, and my excitement grows, surely there is no stopping you now!
Suddenly, you grab my head by the ears, and all my fears return. Your voice is harsh as you remind me that I must obey you at all times. I try to placate you, scared that you will hurt me, but actually more scared that you won't fuck me! You reinforce that I should not think I am in control, or that I can trick you into doing what I want - everything is on your terms. I agree, I would agree to anything at this moment, but the truth is that this is what I want - I want you to control me, I'm desperate for it! Yes, I want you to fuck me, but if you decide not to, if you want to beat me instead, then that would be wonderful too! You can do whatever you want with me, and Mary too. My purpose in life now is only to give you both pleasure.
You flip me onto my back in the bath, and the water sloshing around closes over my face momentarily. Your hands are all over me, and you thrust deep inside me, fucking me hard and fast. Oh God, that feels so good! I am moaning, my mouth wide open, which means that each time the waves break over me, I get a mouthful of water, making me cough and splutter, spitting it out, but I don't care! This feels so wonderful! Fuck me harder, faster! Squash my tits, rip my nipples off if you want! I go under the surface again, and it seems suddenly so quiet, I feel like you might drown me, and that would be just fine! If you want to kill me, just go ahead, Sir!
I break the surface again and suck down a great breath of air. Suddenly, I realise I am very close to climax, and I remember that I have to ask permission! I scream out my desperate request and, when you consent, the orgasm breaks over me like a tidal wave, making me scream and cry in ecstasy! I clutch onto you as my body shudders in convulsion, every muscle in my body seeming to go into spasm as I feel you empty yourself into me. I hold on as long as I can, my arms and legs wrapped around you as I gasp out my thanks for having given me so much pleasure.
The water drains away, and I feel the weight of your body pressing me down into the bath. After the heat of the water and the sex, my body quickly chills and I begin to shiver, feeling you do likewise. As you clamber out of the bath, you give me my orders, and I scramble to obey. I dry you quickly, but taking great care to ensure that everything is properly dry, including that wonderful weapon between your legs, the one I now feel like worshipping, it has given me so much pleasure…
You go back into the bedroom, and I realise I need to get on with my tasks for the day. After quickly wiping the towel over myself, I run back to my room and pull on my dress, stockings and shoes. I lock the shoes in place and then put on my working collar, clicking it shut. I pull my wet hair back into a ponytail and dash downstairs to begin preparing the breakfast. As I go about the cooking and preparation, I can't keep my mind off everything that has happened to me since I arrived here, and how far beyond my expectations it has been. Before I came here, I imagined myself being subservient to both of you in a kind of ‘maid with benefits’ sort of way. Now I realise I am utterly within your power to do with as you wish. I also know how vicious and cruel you can both be. But, rather than making me contemplate escape, all I can think about is what you might do to me next. And all the time, I feel aroused. Even now, doing something as mundane as making breakfast, I can feel the wetness between the tops of my thighs…
I take the tray up to your bedroom, knock and enter. I see you sitting up in bed but not Mary. A moment later, she appears from under the covers, and I guess she has been giving you some tender loving care! I feel strangely jealous…
"Your breakfast, Sir, ma'am," I murmur, placing the tray on the covers before you.
"Thank you, Jenny," you say, "now get on with what I told you to do."
"Yes, Sir," I respond, leaving the room and going back downstairs. You said there was a carriage in the garden shed, so I go out to look for it. The ‘garden shed’ turns out to be almost as big as a double garage, and I open the doors to see what is inside.
There is quite a lot of equipment in there, but the carriage is quite obvious, standing in the middle of the space. It has two large wheels at either end of the leather bench seat, with a canopy over the top, and two wooden shafts from the front, the ends of which rest on the floor. What a strange thing to find here! It looks quite old, and although it is dusty and the wheels a little muddy, it is in good condition.
I lift up the shafts and back out of the shed doors, pulling the carriage with me. I wonder why you have this? It seems so old-fashioned. It is clearly designed to be pulled by a horse or pony, maybe an ass or donkey, but I haven't seen any animals around here. Perhaps they are kept somewhere else, a stable block out of sight of the house, or maybe a local farmer brings the animal when you need it. It's not for me to worry about - I suddenly realise that there is nothing for me to worry about any more, I no longer have to make decisions, you will always make them for me. It feels like a great weight lifted from me - I always hated having to make decisions, maybe that's why I always fantasised about being someone's servant, or even slave…
I get a bucket of water and wash down the carriage, before dusting the canopy and then polishing the leather seat and all the woodwork. I stand back and admire the now gleaming carriage. You and Mary will have a lovely time riding about in it, I'm sure. I wonder if I will be allowed to watch?
Having finished that job, I go back inside and begin my regular chores. I start by cleaning the downstairs bathrooms and dusting in all the furniture, ornaments and shelves. I am just thinking about using the vacuum cleaner, and whether I am allowed to yet, when I hear your footsteps on the stairs. I look around and see that you and Mary are elegantly dressed, and walking arm in arm. I smile at you, but suddenly Mary's face seems to be clouded with anger.
"Punishment!" she barks. For a moment, I stand there dumbly, not understanding what she means, while she looks at me expectantly. Then it comes back to me, and I run into the kitchen, to the cupboard she showed me, and take out the cane. As I return, my alarm and fear grow - what have I done wrong that I have to be punished?! I hand her the cane, which she flexes threateningly.
"You have angered me, Jenny," she says severely.
"Oh no, please, ma'am!" I babble, "I didn't mean to, whatever I did, I didn't mean to anger you, ma'am… what have I done wrong?"
"You fucked my husband," she says in an accusatory tone.
"B-but, ma'am, he… he made me! I had to!" I exclaim, my voice wavering as I watch her swishing the cane.
"You are quite right," she smiles in a not very friendly way, "if my husband tells you to fuck him, you have to fuck him. But that doesn't mean that I have to like it! Now bend over and grab your ankles!"
I feel tears well up in my eyes - this is so unfair! - but slowly I do as I am told. As I bend down, my skirt parts like curtains, leaving my buttocks completely bare and exposed.
"There will be 10 strokes," Mary says, "you will count them out loud and thank us for each one." I look up at you beseechingly, but you merely smile, looking forward to the performance.
"One!" I squeal as the cane slaps down hard across my cheeks. "Thank you, ma'am, Sir!" Fuck, that hurts! I have to really cling on to my ankles to stop myself from straightening up and clutching at my buttocks whilst running around and howling! I don't want it to happen again! Please, don't do it again! Please…
"Two! Thank you, ma'am, Sir!" Fuck fuck fuck!! The tears are flowing now, dripping onto the floor below me. I can't take eight more strokes like this! Please, stop!
"Three! Thank you, ma'am, Sir!" Jesus! This is terrible! Why was I just thinking that I could take this?! I am blubbing like a baby as, time after time, Mary hits me.
"Ten! Thank you, ma'am, Sir!" Thank God it's over! My arse is glowing like I'd been sitting on a five bar radiator! When I am given permission, I straighten up with difficulty, every move making my bottom hurt, then take the cane from Mary's hands and put it back in the cupboard. Hated thing! Gingerly, I feel the marks on my behind, flinching with every touch. My fingers touch the raised welts, tracing them from one buttock to the other, so sore! Then my hand slips between my legs at the back, and I feel how wet it is down there. I don't believe it! I'm incredibly hot, even after that terrible beating… or is it because of that terrible beating?
I wipe the tears from my cheeks and go back to work.
Mary and I dress for the day. When you came back from the shed saying the carriage is ready and clean, I’m surprised you did not seem to be aware where that carriage is supposed to be used for. But anyway, I have to go to the university, to my lab.
After breakfast Mary is busy inspecting your cleaning. I hear your yelp from time to time, somewhere in the house. Maybe Mary isn’t happy with your work, but she might be pestering you as well. She likes that. At breakfast, while you were busy licking your bowl on the floor, she said that she’d like to bite your nipples off. I know that. She is a real sadist. Derives pure pleasure from meting out agony. But I won’t let her. I want to keep those nipples for later. I smile at myself, thinking of Mary ‘punishing’ you in the kitchen for having fucked me. What a crazy argument. It’s just fun to whip your ass. There need not be any other reason.
Mary tells me it wasn’t necessary to restrain you when she whipped you. You wanted to obey. I think you like to give us your body. It’s an arousing thought that you are continuously available. Mary thinks that here isn’t any danger you’d flee from us, because you looked so happy after that bath with me, that you’d take any risk of punishment for that. I am not surprised. It was such a fantastic experience to hear you cry out that you’d want me to do anything with you, even kill you, and then feel you orgasming so ecstatically under me in the water.
But enough of these musings. I must go to the lab. I call Mary that I’m ready to leave. She hurriedly, and red faced, appears in the hallway where I’m waiting with my coat. You follow, meek, naked and with a whipping mark across one of your breasts.
“Where is her dress, Mary?” I inquire, “and her shoes?
“I pulled them off, Robert; she dirtied them while licking my shit from the rim of the toilet. You should have seen how she fought to avoid doing that. But I forced her.” She smiles and, turning to you, she adds: “that was great fun, wasn’t it Jenny?”
“I… eeh… “ you hesitate, then almost whisper, “Not really ma’am, there are things I don’t like.”
“Well Jenny, how nice, that’s the point, isn’t it? I like to force you to do things you don’t like. I’m not like my husband, who seems to enjoy watching you wallow in pleasure.”
You look down to the floor. It seems you really hated tasting Mary’s shit. “Well, Jenny,” I say, changing the subject, “You’re taking us now to the university, and to Mary’s shopping. We’ll take the carriage.” I then ask Mary and if she would like to prepare you. She’s a lot better than I am with leather things that have to be put on you.
You look startled. It’s obvious you do not understand. But Mary takes your hand and draws you with her into the garden and towards the shed. I wait inside the hallway, carrying my coat on my arm. It takes a while, but in the end Mary calls me.
And there you are. I am stunned. Your fine naked body is strapped in leather bands, belts and buckles, and in your half open mouth a bit is clasped. Some spittle drools down from your lips. Your eyes are large and bright, but with some tears in their corners. You look adorably helpless.
I walk around you, admiring Mary’s work. You look at me with pleading eyes, unable to speak. I smile and tell you to stand between the two heavy wooden shafts and then take them into your hands. You hesitate, but the bend down obeying me, grasping the endings of the shafts, lifting them up. It takes an effort, as the carriage is quite heavy and you turn your head and face me with pleading eyes. I disregard your unease and use the leather clasps on the shafts to fix them to your wrists. It obviously hurts, because I see how your face cringes in pain as I tighten the clasps. Some muffled pleading sounds escape from your mouth. But I see moisture glisten between your legs.
Mary now attaches long supple reigns to the metal rings at both ends of your bit. Then we both jump on the leather bench seat on top of the carriage. You give off a loud grunt because of the added weight, having no choice but to keep the carriage in balance on it’s wheels.
Mary now takes the whip and cracks it in the air. “”Let’s go, Jenny slave, take us out onto the street. Take a left.”
I see how you strain your muscles and slowly the carriage begins to move forward. You must exert yourself so much that some foam bubbles leave your mouth and some drops of perspiration appear on your face. It’s hard, especially since you are pulling us on bare feet. We’re going slowly. Mary cracks the whip over your back and calls out “Faster, little whore, faster!!”
The university is not far. A few blocks away. As you strain yourself to the utmost between those shafts, I notice that several passers by watch us with awe. Mary smiles at them and plays her whip along your hips. “Hop on..!!” she cries as she tightens the reigns.
Finally we arrive at the university grounds and turn into the road leading to the lab. Mary doesn’t need to give you directions, she just pulls on the relevant rein and you seem to understand her instinctively. When we arrive at my lab I jump off.
A group of young female students stands next to the building and look at the scene before them in surprise, gawking at what they see. “Oh wow,” one of the girls cries out, “look at that, they have a naked woman pulling that cart.” I approach the girl and say: “Like what you see?”
“Eh… yes, sir…,” she says a bit taken aback at me talking to her.
“Have a closer look.” She comes with me, and her friends, giggling, come too.
When she stands close to you, she hesitatingly stretches out her hand, and then carefully caresses your thigh. Tears of shame spring to your eyes as the girl continues stoking your thigh, higher and higher up, approaching your crotch. “She’s nice,” the girl says, “and her pussy…. can I touch that too, sir?”
“If you like. She can’t stop you, can she?” I say, and then watch the girl’s hand approaches your intimate flesh. You throw your head back in horror and shame, waving your auburn hair in the air, and making a loud whinny sound, when gently she touches the swollen lips of your love mouth. Unable to escape that hand between your legs, tears sprout from your eyes when the girl puts an exploring finger deep into your most intimate entrance…
After my caning, I run upstairs to get out of the way of you, and particularly Mary, and begin cleaning up there. The pain from my rear end starts to ease down to a constant sting and, as I strip and remake your bed, I wonder yet again what I have got myself into and whether I can cope with the demands of this ‘job’. I admit to myself that, as well as my submissive tendency, I also enjoy it when you humiliate and demean me - why is that? It's a question I can't answer, but just thinking about it is making me wet all over again…
I hear movement upstairs and look around fearfully - is it you, looking for me to have sex again, or is it Mary, looking for me to abuse me? I realise that both excite me…
It is Mary who comes into the bedroom, and I see that she has a riding crop in her hand. Oh God, I think, not more punishment! She stands over me, watching everything I do - dusting, sweeping, cleaning - and flicks me with the crop when she decides I am not doing the job properly or fast enough, slapping it against my thighs, my back, my breasts, and my still-sore arse. I squeal whenever she hits my aching cheeks, and become flustered by the constant attention, making more mistakes and being punished for them.
I go into the bathroom and, after cleaning the bath, shower and sink, turn to the toilet. Someone has made a fairly horrible mess here, and I start to clean it up.
"I want you to lick it clean, slave," Mary orders sternly. What?! You can't be serious?! I'm not licking that thing! It's filthy! I turn to look at her, my eyes doing that pleading, disbelieving look which is starting to become my standard expression whenever I am asked to do something revolting.
Mary sees the look and her response is to slap my face with a full swing of her arm, which hits me so hard that I fall on the floor, clutching my stinging cheek. In an instant, Mary is squatting over me and grabs my hair, pulling my head painfully backwards.
"Do as you're fucking told, you stupid cunt!" she spits in my face. "You signed the contract, now get on with it!"
When I still hesitate, Mary wipes her finger across the bowl, getting shit on it, and then forces it into my mouth, ignoring my squeals and attempts to fight her off.
"There," she hisses with an evil smile, "you've got a taste for it now, slut, so get on and clean up the rest of it!" Still holding my hair tightly, she forces my head down into the toilet bowl, pushing it against the porcelain until shit is smeared across my nose and cheek.
Despite my efforts to push her away, I realise that she is going to hold me there until I actually lick it clean. This is sick! I can't believe this is happening to me! And now I can't believe that I'm actually doing this, I am licking the bowl! I retch at the taste and then I am physically sick into the toilet, but Mary still holds my head there, forcing me to carry on.
Eventually, she is satisfied and lets me up, coughing and spluttering, retching and spitting.
"Now you've got your dress dirty," she scolds, "take it off while I unlock your shoes." A few moments later, I am naked, still kneeling on the bathroom floor. Just then I hear you call from downstairs, and Mary drags me to my feet by my hair and pushes me towards the door.
We go downstairs and you question what we have been doing and why I am now naked. Mary takes great pleasure in recounting my humiliation, even asking me how much fun it was, which is really just an excuse so that she can tell me once again that she can do whatever she likes with me. It is a lesson that I am starting to learn.
You say that I am taking you to the University, and that we are taking the carriage. I don't understand, how can I take you, and what do you mean about the carriage? Mary leads me outside and down to the shed, still confused about what is going on, but becoming fearful at the unknown.
"You really haven't worked it out yet, have you, you stupid girl?" Mary says as we stand inside the shed. She takes down some kind of leather harness hanging on the wall. It looks like some kind of tack for a horse.
"The carriage is designed to be pulled by a pony," she explains, "and, today, you will be that pony! Now stand still while I put your harness on."
Staying still isn't a problem, as I am too stunned to move anyway. Me, pull that carriage, with people in it?! It will be too heavy! But, more than that, it will be so demeaning! You intend to use me, not as a servant, a sex toy, or even a slave, but as an animal! A beast of burden! Oh my God! To my astonishment, my heart is fluttering and my pussy juicing – my body thinks this is sexy!
She puts the web of straps over my head and two of them rest on my shoulders. The top of the harness looks like a strange kind of bra, but with steel rings where the bra cups should be. Mary puts them over my breasts, but they are too small for my breasts to fit through, that is until she pinches my nipple between her thumb and forefinger and pulls my breast through the ring. The rings now sit snugly against my chest as she buckles the strap behind my back, pulling it as tight as she possibly can. As I look down, my breasts look like water-filled balloons and are starting to turn red because of the way they are being pinched.
Straps come down from the rings to a wide leather belt which goes around my waist. Again, Mary buckles it as tight as she can, and it feels like a corset, squeezing the breath out of me.
A single strap hangs down from the belt, a very thin one with two small steel rings set into it, and a slit before them. Mary makes me spread my feet as far apart as I can, then bends down to organise the strap. I gasp as she fiddles around trying to sort it out, and let out a yelp as she pinches my clitoris and pulls it through the slit! She goes behind me and pulls the strap through my legs, buckling it to the waist belt at the back. I let out another squeal as she pulls it even tighter than the other ones, and it pinches down on my clit, whilst diving deep between my pussy lips. I can feel the steel rings against my skin, one sitting over my vagina, the other buried between my buttocks and over my anus.
"Every pony has a tail," Mary says, "and this is yours." She holds up what looks like a dildo but with long horsehair hanging from it. I know where that is going, and I'm not looking forward to it! She holds it in front of my mouth with an expectant look.
"If you want it to be lubricated when it goes in, Jenny, you'd better get it wet." I take it from her and lick it, coating it in saliva before handing it back to her and bending over in readiness. I let out a small cry as she forces it in - it's long and thick, like your cock going in, but it's harder and hurts more. I straighten up with some difficulty, feeling it uncomfortably filling me. I look behind and see the tail now coming from between my buttocks. It looks weird, but… kind of sexy!
Mary fastens leather cuffs around my wrists, with short chains which she clips to the rings at either side of my waist belt. Then she gets even more straps in some other kind of harness. Surely not more?!
This one goes over my head, and there are straps down either side of my face, across my forehead, under my chin and around the back of my head. On either side are two square leather panels, and I realise that these are blinkers which severely restrict my view.
But I'm far more concerned about the thing she is putting in my mouth. There are two large steel rings on either side of my mouth and, when I open my lips, she inserts the bit between my teeth. I've seen pictures of ‘bit gags’, which are made of rubber or possibly leather, but this is very different. It is a proper metal bit with a part which extends into my mouth, a heavy piece of metal that traps my tongue on the bottom of my mouth.
I try to get it comfortable by opening my jaws, pushing it backwards and forwards with my tongue, or clamping down on it with my teeth, but nothing works - I can't close my mouth properly any more, I can't bite it because it's metal, and I realise that I can't speak either because of the way it interferes with my tongue. I remember seeing horses with a bit between their teeth and thinking how uncomfortable it looked - now I know that it is just as uncomfortable as it looks! I try to reach up and adjust the bit with my hand, but the chains from my wrists to my waist belt stop me – I am helpless!
"Okay, you're ready," Mary says, "the boots take some getting used to and I don't want to waste time on that just now, so you'll have to go barefoot. Come on, let's show Robert!"
I walk outside, feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed in my latest humiliating costume. You look at me admiringly, but it doesn't make me feel any better. You tell me to get between the traces and, reluctantly, I move between the shafts and you bend down and pick them up. You tie my wrists to the shafts with thin leather thongs which pull painfully tight as you fasten them, and I let out a little, inarticulate cry, which was actually meant to be ’please, sir, not so tight’, but even I couldn't understand it.
Reins are attached to the bit, and then I feel you both get onto the bench behind me - I can't look round far enough to see you past the blinkers! I feel so demeaned, so dehumanised! And now it finally dawns on me - we are going to ‘the University’… out in public like this?! I'm naked! Surely this can't be legal even in the Netherlands?! We’ll be stopped, I'll be arrested! But I hear a crack of a whip and Mary shouting at me to get moving. I don't believe it, but this is really happening!
I grip the shafts, lean forward, and… nothing. Jesus, this is heavy with you both on board! I pull harder, and then as hard as I can, and finally the wheels begin to turn. Gradually, we move along the drive, but it is such hard work! Before we even reach the end, I can feel the sweat dripping into my eyes, running down my sides from my armpits, and I'm panting so much that I'm dribbling all over my chin, flecks of spit flying from my lips.
As we reach the end of the drive, Mary pulls on the rein attached to the bit at the left-hand side. The metal is pulled painfully into the corner of my mouth, and the tongue depressor is forced towards my throat, making me gag. But I understand what she wants, and I turn to the left. She cracks the whip and I feel a stripe of pain from my shoulder to the middle of my back - she's whipping me! This is intolerable! I am being treated like an animal, and not well at that! As she urges me on, I try to speed up but it is so hard, I am soon exhausted and bathed in sweat under the hot sun. I begin to feel dizzy, and lose all sense of where I am or what I am doing, I just concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and responding to the various tugs on the reins. Please let this end! I don't think I can go much further!
Both reins are pulled back at the same time, and I take this as a signal to stop. Thank God! I gasp for breath, my chest heaving. Eventually, I am recovered enough to actually look around at where we are. This must be the University, and then I see you, talking to a group of young girls, maybe first-year students, no older. What the hell?! They're looking at me, one of the girls is pointing at me, what is going on?! Surely, the university don't want their students looking at a naked woman, in chains, pulling a cart?! This isn't right!
Oh my God, you're leading her over here! Get away from me, you sick pervert! I don't believe it, you're encouraging her to touch me! I feel a hand on my sweat-covered thigh. I feel so ashamed! Embarrassed, humiliated! I start to cry as I feel her hand on my buttock, and then playing with the tail sticking out of my bottom. She wiggles it, causing strange feelings inside me, and I feel even more ashamed, letting out some kind of inarticulate howl.
The two of you are talking in Dutch, I have no idea what about, and it seems to dehumanise me even more - I'm naked, wearing a harness, I can't see properly, I can't speak, and I can't understand what ‘the people’ around me are saying. I really have become a dumb animal!
Suddenly, I feel a touch through the steel ring over my vagina. I look down in utter horror and see the girl is sticking a finger into me! How can this be happening?! Why is nobody stopping this?! What is wrong with you all?! I pull frantically at the straps holding me to the shafts of the cart, but I only hurt myself. I try to shake my head and say no, stop it, but the noises coming out of my mouth cannot be understood, and all I do is drool down onto my swollen, distended breasts. Incredibly, the girl seems to be enjoying herself, and she sticks two fingers inside me! Not only that, but she starts to wiggle them around!
To my dismay, I feel my body starting to respond. Oh my God, this can't happen, this mustn't happen! But she keeps on, and soon I am breathing heavily, my cheeks flushed, not by embarrassment now but by arousal. In desperation, I clamp my thighs together around the girl’s hand to stop her. She lets out a cry and says something to you.
"Now, now, Jenny," you say in English, "this young student wants to learn about women like you, who like to play ponies. I think she secretly envies you! Play nicely with the girl or I will get Mary to whip you on that delicate little cunt of yours." I look into your face and see that it is not an idle threat. Defeated and crying, I open my thighs and the girl resumes her teasing.
"She says you are very wet," you say, "she wonders if you have peed yourself." I am gasping for air at this point, so close. I think you see that, and you say something to the girl. She takes her hand away and wipes it on my thigh, before returning to her friends and telling them all about her ‘adventure’ with the pony girl. I, on the other hand, let out a howl of frustration - I was so close to orgasm, but now it's been snatched away! I rub my thighs together in hope of achieving my goal, but all I find is that my inner thighs are slick with my pussy juices.
"Bye, my love," you call out to Mary, "will you pick me up around six o'clock, please? Thank you. Have a nice day with Mary, won't you, Jennifer?" You walk away towards one of the buildings and I feel Mary clamber back into the carriage.
"Come on then, pony," she says from behind me, "you should be able to go much faster with only one on board." I feel the whip crack across my back and I start pulling the cart once more. It is possible to go faster with just Mary, but she is never satisfied, and soon I am exhausted again, and my back is ablaze with pain where the whip has struck.
We leave the university grounds and head away from your house. Gradually, the road becomes more built-up and soon we are in a small town. Cars overtake me, honking their horns, while pedestrians walk by on the pavement next to me, pointing and laughing at the unusual sight of a naked woman, covered in sweat, jogging along pulling a woman in a cart! The pain in my feet, my legs, my back and my arms drives any thoughts about my embarrassment from my mind - all I can do is pull the cart, nothing else impinges on my concentration.
Finally, Mary makes me turn into a small car park in front of a line of shops and stop. She jumps down from the cart and comes around to stand in front of me.
"Well done, my little pony," she says condescendingly, "I just need to go and do some shopping, and I'm meeting some friends for lunch, so you wait here, okay? I'll send somebody out to give you a drink." She strokes my sweat-soaked hair as she speaks, then takes the reins and ties them to the rail in front of me. She walks away, out of my sight behind the blinkers. I can't believe what is happening to me! I've just been left here, naked, bound and gagged, in a public place! I can't sit down, I can't put the cart down, all I can do is stand and wait! Just like a pony…
After about half an hour, I hear someone approaching. A girl in a waitress uniform appears carrying a bucket of water, which she puts down on the ground in front of me. She clearly thinks I should get down there and drink from it, but the reins are too short for me to bend down. She realises the problem and unties the reins, then helps me down onto my knees. She ties the reins to a bar near the ground and then leaves me alone. With no other option, I bend my head down and put my face in the water. It feels so good! So refreshing! I drink as best I can with the bit in my mouth, before dipping my hair in there as well and then feeling the cold water run down my back and over my breasts. Such a relief!
I realise the reins are tied too short for me to get up again, and my knees soon get sore on the tarmac. I can’t sit down properly because of my ‘tail’, so I sort of slump onto one cheek. So tired! Hot and sweaty, still thirsty, if I close my eyes, just for a moment, just to save my strength…
I wake up with a start at the sound of laughter and voices. There are four boys, teenagers, and they are taking pictures of me with their phones! I try to hide my face, but it’s impossible, they shoot me from all angles. Oh God, these are going to end up on Facebook and Twitter, what if people who know me see them?! This just got so much worse!
One of them unfastens the reins and makes me get up, then they all jump on the back and flick the reins against my back – someone even shouts ‘giddyup!’ When I don’t move, too frightened to think, I feel the whip crack across my back and, with a squeal, I slowly pull away. I don't believe it, I’m being rustled!
I'm relieved when I realise that they are only driving me around the car park, not out into the street and away. They make me do several circuits, while they take it in turns to jump down and video their friends driving and whipping me on. That is going to end up on YouTube, isn't it? More exposure, more humiliation. Once more, while my brain says I am frightened and affronted, my body expresses my true feelings…
As we turn for what feels like the tenth time, I see Mary and, for the first time ever, I feel glad to see her. She speaks sharply to the boys and they run away, still laughing.
"I didn't say you were allowed to play while I was gone, did I?" she says to me sternly, "I think that deserves punishment later. For now, we need to get back and pick up Robert."
She mounts the carriage and drives me out onto the street and back towards the university, whipping me mercilessly and urging me to go faster. By the time we get back, I am once more utterly spent, sweat dripping from me, saliva foaming at my mouth, panting for breath, hunched over. Please come soon! I'm so tired, so hungry, so thirsty! I need to get back and sleep! I desperately hope that you will let me sleep - I'll sleep in the shed if that's what you want, but I can't take another night with not enough sleep. Sleep, sleep, I must sleep…
When Mary knocks on my office door it’s only halfway the afternoon. Must have been doing less shopping than I thought. But when she sees me she is annoyed. “The girl is at the end of her tether,” she says. “Maybe I whipped her too hard or something. Seems she can’t hold out much longer. It took us ages just to get here, let alone proceed to home. So please leave work early today and help me getting home.”
Outside, the carriage is waiting and you, between the wooden shafts, are half kneeling on the ground, mouth foaming, tears all over your face and obviously out of strength. Bloody stripes of Mary’s whippings colour your back. You’re sobbing quietly. I turn around and stand in front of you, so you can see me.
“What’s up Jenny?” I ask. I take out your bit, but you do not respond, just continue sobbing. So I caress your hair, moist with sweat. Now you look up and a glimmer of hope appears on your face. “Please make her stop, Robert, I can’t do anything anymore. I'm so tired…” you sob.
"Well, Jenny, if you carry us home, I promise that Mary will stop hurting you. It’s only a few streets. Come on, you can do it."
To my surprise, and certainly that of Mary, you try to get up on your bare feet again. But you fail miserably and fall. I grab your hair and lift your face up to me. “Maybe, you don’t like being treated like a pony, dear, but you’ll do as I say.” When I let go of your hair you try again and this time remain standing somewhat unstable, lifting the carriage slightly up on its wheels. I reinsert your bit, but don't fasten it as tightly as before.
“We better walk next to her, Mary,” I say, “otherwise we might lose her. I don’t want to call a vet because she faints.”
Mary agrees and when I smack one of your buttocks in a friendly way, you take a few steps. Discovering that we are not sitting on its bench, you pull the cart with relative ease now. But before we reach home, you’ve stumbled several times. On each occasion I spur you on. Mary, walking with me, still holds the reins and, although I took the whip away from her, she yells at you for being a nuisance, and that we maybe should buy a real pony, because this performance of yours is far below standard. “Have some pity, Mary,” I keep saying, “she’s with us only for two days. She needs a break.” But Mary just goes on to call you names.
Once arrived, Mary gets in the house and I try to dismount you from the carriage. After I fiddle with the straps and free your wrists, you fall down on the ground, barely conscious. So I take you up into my arms and carry you inside the house. Mary is not to be seen. She always locks herself up when she’s angry and needs to cool down. So with some effort I carry you to the couch in our living room and begin to loosen all those straps of that leather harness of yours. It takes a while, but it gives me the satisfaction of seeing that you open your eyes. With a strong pull I tear the ponytail out of your tight asshole. You react with giving off a short screech of pain, but then you are quiet again.
I throw you over my shoulder like a heavy sack of sand, carry you upstairs to your room and throw you on your bed. You cringe in pain from your sore back. So I get some ointment from the bathroom and put it on you carefully. You now look at me with grateful eyes. “Why are you so kind to me?” you ask. I don’t know what to answer other than that I want you to last a bit longer than two days.
And then it happens, you stretch out your arms to me and whisper that I should not be angry with you for being so exhausted, that it still had been a heavenly experience to be used as a horse, that you, fatigued as you are, feel being treated so nicely by me that you’re getting horny. “Don’t leave me yet, I think I want you inside me.”
It’s an invitation I had not expected, but you are indeed a very delicious piece of flesh as you lie on that bed with your inviting open arms. So I get out of my clothes fast and throw myself upon your naked bruised body. You are nice, soft and warm. Although you must still be in pain from Mary’s whipping, judging by your groaning, you try to caress my back and buttocks. It heats me up and soon I ‘m hard as steel.
And with my arousal my kink side awakens. I take your nipple in my mouth, suck it until you moan, and then bite it hard. You yelp loud. But it is a pleasure yelp rather than a pain yelp, and you gyrate your hips below me, kissing my face passionately. “You're such a cruel man…” you pant in my ear, “I love that hard body of yours, please fuck me now… fuck me to your heart’s desire… fuck me hard, Robert… please!”
I whack you across your face. “You call me 'Sir'; you are no more than a slave girl, don’t you ever forget that. I’m ‘Sir’ to you.”
“I’m sorry Sir… please fuck me Sir…”
The slap in your face has made me wild, and I grab your breasts and maul them with both my hands, noticing how hard your nipples are. Then I bite your throat until you scream to have me stop. It causes me to break into your yummy slit, with sudden force. Your love entrance is hot inside and soaking wet. My assault causes you to provide a loud groan, and I start to pump in and out of your tender frame. You spread your thighs and greedily cramp them around me.
“May I cum, Sir…?!! Please let me cum…!!”
Briefly I look down upon you. And smile cruelly. “Mary won’t like that, little whore, but I do.” At that very moment I squirt and fill you inside with a long series of pulsing seed, biting you deep in your throat. You give off a scream, and I feel your whole body cramp around me in a big and obviously very satisfying orgasm.
When I lie myself panting next to you, your body is wet with perspiration. I love this. But then I see that you’ve fallen asleep like a stone. Careful I get out of bed and decide that we should leave you sleeping all afternoon and all night without disturbing you. Mary and I, we’ll have dinner in a restaurant. You deserve some rest.
End of part 2
Copyright© 2014 by Jennifer Harrison. All rights reserved.