I still remember the first time that Doug told me about his dream.
I lay totally exhausted at his feet. My body utterly battered, beaten and bruised. My hands were still tied underneath my back, my legs were widely spread as ordered as Doug began to speak in a quiet, hushed voice as his toes dove in and out of my spread cunt lips and occasionally he would curl his toes and pull on my pubic hairs as I wreathed at his feet.
"You know, Chrissy, if I could obtain about ten more like you I could start fulfilling my dream."
His toes curled around again and pulled some of my soaked hairs and as the delightful pain swept through me, I asked, "What dream, Master?"
"My dream for Chattel Castle."
"And what is Chattel Castle?"
"Well, right now it just a dream. I remember the first time I dreamed it. I was all of sixteen."
"I had just dropped off Maryann after a delightful date. Maryann was always one to experiment and that night she had asked me to spank her ass."
"At first I thought she was joking, but then she assured me that she wasn't. And to be honest the thought of hitting her gorgeous ass with my hand sent a thrill through me. So I did."
"I flipped her over my lap and brought my hand down to her waiting ass cheeks."
"And at that first contact ... well, it's hard to explain. But it changed me forever. I liked the feel of my hand sinking her ass cheeks. And as my hand and her ass heated up more and more with each stroke, as her cheeks turned from pink to red, as my cock filled to the point of aching, I knew that I would always want to inflict pain on women."
"Well, that night I spanked her ass over and over. She began to squirm and twist. She pleaded with me to stop."
"But I didn't. I hit her ass over and over. Again and again. Her tears dripped onto my legs and I got even more excited. My hand became a blur as it landed again and again. And then Maryann began to change."
"She still cried. She still twisted and turned on my lap as I held her in place. But she began to squirm in passion."
"I knew it and so did she. I hit her ass even harder and instead of trying to avoid the blows she began to raise her ass for the next one. And then it happened."
"She came. God, did she ever come over my lap. Her reddened cheeks clamped and unclamped. Her asshole twitched in passion and her cunt flooded my cock."
"A second later I dumped her off my lap, knelt behind her, grabbed her hips and jerked her to her knees. I jammed my cock presumptuously and it sunk up her ass with one swift stroke. And God, did we ever fuck."
"Neither of us could get enough. We slammed into each other like demented devils bent on destroying each other. I used both hands to beat her red ass as my cock fuck away inside it."
"Her gripping ass milked me with each blow I landed. She screamed, she begged, she cried for me to hit her again and again. And I did. Over and over until the ungovernable happened. We came and then came some more."
"It was like my cock was a never ending machine as I dumped load after load into her."
"Well, naturally, after a while we calmed down and then we began to talk about what had just happened. We both came to the same conclusion- pain was a very potent stimulant."
"Of course it was opposite for us, me giving and her receiving, but we were both hooked on it."
"And that night was the first time I dreamed of Chattel Castle."
"So what is Chattel Castle?"
"In my dreams it's an ancient castle atop a hill, perhaps in 16th century Europe."
"It's a fully defendable castle, complete with turrets, battlements, siege repelling equipment, archer slits in the towers, drawbridge, moat, bailee, keep and all other necessary means of defense. And of course there are the serfs, merchants, knights, squires, craftsmen and servants that live within the walls that depend on my protection."
"But there is no need to protect Chattel Castle because of what it offers."
"And what does it offer that makes it so important, Master?"
"It is a castle for sex. Any type of sex that you can think of. The entire staff, from scullery maid to the captain of guard, is there to fulfill your every wish concerning sex. And the specialty is painful sex."
"There are three levels of dungeons that willing victims can be taken to for punishment. Of course they don't think of it as punishment. No, to them, the willing victims, it is a reward to receive pain."
"If you want the illusion of struggling they will fight you as you tie them up, string them from chains. And as you whip them, or burn them, or bind them in yards of chains or rope, or whatever your wish is, they love it."
"Naturally most of the victims are ravishing beauties, but if you have a hankering for male flesh to defile, it too is available. Or if your taste tend toward Rubens, they are there too."
"There is room after room filled with every known method of torture. Racks, burning rods, whips, canes, crops, cages, every know instrument to inflict pain. Even the serfs and merchants that fill the open air market in the courtyards get into the act. Some giving pain, others receiving it."
"You can trade a jeweler your body for a trinket that you desire and he will tie you to the post that borders his stall and whip your body until he is satisfied with your payment in flesh."
"Or if you want to take the serving wench that brings your meal you can drape her over the table, paddle her ass then fuck it as the other dinners look on. Then when you are done she will calmly continue to serve the other guests. And for those who are into animals there is a vast collection of them available too: horses, snakes, dogs, cats, goats and so on."
"And of course I am the Lord of Chattel Castle and I collect the outlandish fees that people are willing to pay to have their fantasies come true."
"If some guy wants to whip a charming wench until she faints from the pain, I can arrange it. Do you have a fetching young thing that you want trained to fulfill your every wish, well just give her to me with instructions and I and my staff wilt train her in any manner you wish. For the correct fee, of course."
"And that, my dear slave, is what I dream of. Chattel Castle. Beautiful slaves that will submit to anything. And rich bastards that will pay through their balls to get it."
As he finished his words, he again dug his foot into my spread cunt. Shamelessly I screamed as the end of his foot entered me but I kept my legs well spread as the ball of his foot slammed into me over and over again. When he tired of teasing me he removed his foot and leaned back to relax. I laid there at his feet in my pain and thought of what he had just told me.
To say that just thinking about Chattel Castle made my passions soar would be putting it mildly. And the more I thought about it the more it turned me on until I could no longer keep it to myself.
I mastered control over my battered self and brought myself to my knees before him, as I lowered my head in supplication as I begged him, "Master. May I be the first slave to volunteer to serve at Chattel Castle?"
I dared not to raise my head as I heard him take a deep breath. I heard him change positions and a moment later his hand was caressing my free flowing hair. He tightened his hand in my hair, hutting my scalp, and brought my face up to look into his magnificent green eyes.
He smiled at me and my body turned red with passion for my Master. "Yes, you may. And I accept you as my very first slave to serve at Chattel Castle. But to make sure you can serve well in that complicacy, I personally will train you."
And train me he did. That night, even after he had beaten me earlier, he took me to the slave room and again I felt his love.
I hung in my chains as for the third time that day he whipped my slavish flesh.
* * *
That night was five years ago and now in my seventh year of life (for I count my life beginning when I became my Master's), Chattel Castle is a reality.
It took my Master over a year to find the right location for the castle and another three to have it built. And for the last six months we have staffed it as befitting his dream.
At this point in my narrative I will transgress a bit. My name was Christine Smythe until I married my Master Douglas Jefferson six years ago.
Perhaps you are not familiar with the name Smythe, but if you lived near my home state in New England you would have heard of the Smythe's. My forefathers came over in the ship that followed the Mayflower, but over the years they changed from their Puritan origins and became wealthy merchants, shipbuilders, sea captains, one was even a pirate and they prospered. God did they ever prosper.
If all the branches of the family ever got together it would be seen that we owned at least one third of all New England, not to mention holding in every state in the Union, plus all major foreign countries.
In other words-we're richer than Midas ever dreamed of being.
I am the only daughter of James Springfield Smythe, III. My two older brothers, James the IV and Matthew, now run the family businesses as rather is retired. To say that the men in my family are powerful, determined, masterful, enterprising, successful and dynamic is like say the sun is warm.
From the moment of birth they know what the future holds for them-whatever they want.
But the females of the family are totally different. From the moment of our birth we are taught that men are superior and we are on earth to serve them as they see fit for us to serve. To the world we are all very prominent women. We are dynamic forces that fit with our dynamic males. We are on every church board, charity committee, and worthwhile position in the state that we live.
We dress in the height of fashion, at times setting the fashions. We are all educated to our personal limits and desires, as long as we serve in a subservient position, never outshining our male counterparts. And if, as we grow up we rebel at our treatment we are quickly put back into our proper place.
From my earliest recollection, I have never been spared the rod of correction. Prior to the age of five my flesh was corrected with broad hands. From five to ten it was a belt. From ten to eighteen saw the introduction of whips, canes, crops and whatnot to keep me under control.
But to be fair, I must admit that by the age of thirteen I craved all the pain that was inflicted upon me and even went out of my way to insure that I obtained it regularly.
When I was fourteen my brother James informed me that he had arranged for me to marry Mr. Douglas Smythe Jefferson, a fourth cousin on my Father's side. James and Douglas had attended Harvard together and became even closer by that association and when Douglas made a comment once that he found me attractive James and Father conferred and I was given to Douglas.
Naturally at fourteen we didn't wed, but from that date I was trained to be Douglas' wife. And a very strict training it was. I more than eagerly complied with all his wishes.
Naturally I was to come a virgin to my husband but in all other respects I was to be trained as his total slave. And I was. Twice a year, on my birthday and Douglas', he was allowed to observe my training to assure himself that I was being treated as he desires. And for the six years between fourteen and twenty when we married, he did just that. Adding refinements here and there that he wished incorporated in my training.
When I was twenty we married and I moved to his home. At twenty-two I gave birth to his son. I At twenty-four his second son. And at twenty-six his daughter.
Currently I am twenty-seven and my Master is thirty-eight.
We are the host and hostess of Chattel Castle.
When Chattel Castle was nearing completion we set out to staff it as it deserved to be staffed-with the best. As Chattel Castle was no secret to our vast family, staffing was easily accomplished.
With our family's personal philosophy it was a simple matter to recruit. Every state and foreign country that we had dealings with was combed for candidates and they began arriving for interviews.
Denise and Nicole came from France, complements of Uncle Thomas. After checking their willingness to undergo the required pain they were assigned the task of correlating requests and reservations, along with occasional stints of being slaves for use.
Kim came from Illinois, complements of Cousin Richard. She had been his slave for a year and had bore his bastard son which she brought with her when she applied for the position of Nanny for all the residing children. Her one stipulation being that she required at least two beating a week and that she be offered as a victim for piercing (her personal favorite).
Jenny came from Connecticut. She is my first cousin and as such was raised the same as I. But at twenty she had no prospective husband and thought that Chattel Castle might provide one for her. Her main responsibility was to manage the kitchen help.
Kathy came from California, complements of Aunt Catherine who had a craving for female flesh. Kathy, a nimble black beauty, became the mistress of the female slaves at Chattel Castle where she could indulge her desire for female flesh as she swung back and forth from mistress to slave depending on her mood.
Elizabeth came from a New York orphanage that was controlled by Cousin Robert where he had know that she had been submitting to sexual degradation for over five years. Mr. Keene, who ran the orphanage, kept a lookout for Cousin Robert if a likely candidate came along and from the age of twelve she had been trained in the family tradition. Her main responsibility was the running of the open air marketplace in the courtyards of the castle.
And so on they arrived and were assigned their places. Second and third sons of the family were offered positions at the castle where they oversaw the daily running of their departments. In fact they ruled over the women that headed the departments in name only.
Then came the recruitment of the marketplace staff.
With our vast diversity we had ample contacts to choose from. Jewelers came from our New York offices. Produce from our far flung agricultural ventures. Livestock from our vast breeding farms. Seamstresses from our fashion concerns. Meats from our packaging companies. And applicants from around the world.
When they began to arrive it became obvious that some sort of coding was needed to separate the wheat from the shaft, so to speak and I came up with the "ribbon system" of identification.
As the castle began to fill it became noticeable that it was a problem of knowing who was into what. Was she a slave or a dominate? Did he want to worship your feet or slam his fist up your cunt? And that is where the ribbons came into play. Each color of ribbon that was worn by all in residence had a significance behind it.
Red was for total slaves. Pink for slaves in training. Yellow for observer. Black for master or mistress. Green was for staff members who provided a service but did not participate in any activities. Gold was for upper staff (like my Master) who could be called upon to clear up disputes or special requests. A rainbow ribbon was for those that switched around; one day wanting to be a slave, the next a dominate or observer.
And then there were the white stars that some of the women wore to signify that they were producing mother's milk (something that was ever in demand we were to learn).
And thus we opened the gates to guests. We were fully staffed and opened for business. A very profitable business. Rates were assigned and publicized for every activity that we offered. They ranged from $10/whip stroke to $1,000 to tit hang a female slave for fifteen minutes.
Our first month saw a profit of over $750,000 after expenses.
CHAPTER TWO
Mark Sanders had made an advance payment of $20,000 toward his two week stay at Chattel Castle. The self-made millionaire arrived precisely on time in his private jet where he was met by Cousin David and driven to Chattel Castle where he was welcomed and shown to his suite. Here is his story.
Mark Sanders was met in his suite by Molly, a buxom nymph of twenty, who instantly began to put his personal belongings away as she managed to show him ample cleavage and her twitching ass.
"I wish you a very pleasant stay at Chattel Castle, sir. And if I can be of any service, don't hesitate to ask."
"Thank you, Molly, I'm sure we will have a lot in common. But before we begin, could you explain how things are run?"
"My pleasure, sir. I assume you are familiar with the ribbon system and basic rates?" She waited for his reply, then continued.
Well, that's good. Your money is on deposit here and these tokens," showing him the stack of tokens on a table, "are to be used instead of money. As you can see each token of different color is for an different amount. The blue are worth $100 the green $50 and so on. The amount is stamped on the token."
"Let's say that you wanted to spank my ass, which I would not object to at all, as you can see I am wearing a red ribbon. That would cost you a dollar each time your hand touched my ass. So if you did it twenty times it would cost you $20 and I would take a $20 token and place it here in my waist purse. And as you can see the purse is locked and attached to an alarm so I can't be robbed, or anyone else."
"Fine. But what if I gave you $20 and then proceed to do more than spank you for the allotted twenty times?"
"Oh, that's where the gold ribbons come in. Anyone wearing a gold ribbon would come to my rescue and they are all over the place, in case you haven't noticed."
"And if you refuse to pay for what to take you will be removed from Chattel Castle and all of your deposit will be forfeited. But if you just happen to get caught in what you're doing and don't pay in advance a gold ribbon will keep track and collect the fee when you're done and put it in the correct purse. Or you can just give a gold ribbon person a handful of tokens before you start and not have to worry about it and you will receive your correct change when done."
"Quite an ingenious system. And your suggestion sounds like a very appealing way to begin."
Thus saying he tapped on his door and a big brut of a man wearing a gold ribbon came in and he turned his attentions back to the delighted Molly. "Get that damned skirt out of the way, bend over and present your ass."
"Yes, sir. But before you start there is one thing I forgot to say."
"Which is?"
"If you want a red ribbon to submit or struggle, you have to say so."
"Snuggle," was no more out of his mouth than Molly was running away from him. A second later he was in pursuit.
Molly ran toward the bathroom door but before she could slam it in his face Mark grabbed a handful of material at her back.
"Let me go you bastard. I'm a serving maid not some doxy for you to be a playing with." The material gave with a jerk and her back was bared.
"And what the hell do you think a serving maid is for?" He twisted her around and pulled the torn cloth from her heaving breasts. "She is to serve. And you will damned well serve me or pay the consequences."
As his hand grabbed a handful of heaving breast Molly's hand connected with his cheek leaving a pink outline of her hand. "Damn you to hell. You've ruined me best dress."
Using one hand to pull her hair back, Mark brought the other one to her tit and gave it a smart slap. "The hell with your clothes, bitch. I'll rip them all off you, beat you're damned ass then fuck it to boot."
"Oooooo damn you. Let me go." Molly tried to twist herself away from his punishing hands, but it did no good.
With one hand firmly attached to her hair, the other using her tit as a handle, he drug her over to the massive bed, sat down and promptly threw her over his lap. A second later his hand connected with her skirt covered ass.
"Damn you noooooo."
"Damn you yes." came his reply as with one jerk the skirt split and a second later all of her clothes except for her hose and garter were lying on the floor and he was pounding away at her now naked ass.
"Oooweoooo ... you bloody bastard ... ooohhhh you can't do this to me."
His powerful hand continued to land on her inviting anatomy. "And who the hell says I can't? It sure looks like I am and my hand tells me that I am doing it. And if you know what's good for you, you'll stop your damned complaining."
"Nnoooooooo ... damn you nnnooooo ... God that hurtssss."
"It's suppose to hurt, slut. You willing to stop fighting me yet?"
"Nnooooooo ... damn you nnnooooo ... oowwwwwwwwww."
"I'll keep it up until you stop fighting me, slut. Then I'll fuck your ass like it's never been fucked before."
Molly's ass was heating up very nicely as he continued to pound away at it. She felt his cock poking at his pants beneath her soaking twat and decided that it was time to get some relief for both of them. Her face was streaked with tears of pain/pleasure as she suddenly went limp across his legs. His hand landed again.
"What's the matter, slut? Can't take any more? Or are you horny?"
He didn't wait for her answer as again he brought his hand down as a cracking sound filled the room. But he didn't remove his hand. He brought it between her legs and felt just what he thought he would. She was drenched.
"You're no better than a whore. You're damned cunt is a swamp. You love a hot ass don't you, slut?"
Again his hand landed. Molly remained still and silent. "Well if you want my cock so damned bad you're gonna have to beg for it bitch." And with that he brought his hand down again and again.
Molly lasted for five more before she did what they both knew she would.
"Yeeesssssssss ... dammmmnnn you ... I want you. I want your cock."
"And where do you want my cock, slut?" He continued to pound away.
"Ffffucckkkk meeee."
"Where?"
"Ffffucckkkk mmmmmmyyyyy dammmned asssss ... pleassssseeeee. Fuck my ass."
"Whatever you say."
He stood up and dumped her on the floor. "Get your damned ass up, slut, and keep begging or I'll stop."
Molly brought her knees under her, her red ass waiving in the air.
"Ooohh God, plleeasssssssee fuck meeeee. Fuck my damned assssss."
His cock felt cool to her ass as he placed it between her blistered cheeks.
When he was done he pulled them to the floor where they gasped in each others' arms as reality returned. Using his finger he pulled away a damp hair from her face and asked, "You ok, Molly?"
"Ohh I'mmmm fine, sir. Just fine. But you'll have to pay for tearing my clothes."
"No problem. No problem at all."
He looked at the guy with the gold ribbon and saw that he was holding several tokens that he had taken from the table in his hand. Mark nodded his head and the guy brought them to him and he dropped them one at a time into Molly's purse as she curled up next to him.
After refreshing themselves Mark looked at his itinerary as Molly tied a black ribbon around his neck. He was free until after lunch at which time he had been scheduled to meet Karen in room five of the second dungeon level.
Dinning at Chattel Castle was an eye opener. Ail present were dressed in old fashioned costumes, from ladies of the manner to scullery maids, from nobility to stable boys dressed in a leather over-tunic and tights, Mark looked to be a well filled out scribe or perhaps a courtier to some noble house. A gold ribboned man lead him to a table and offered him a menu.
Anything could be ordered at Chattel Castle from lobster to dog food, caviar to cold gruel, the finest pate to fresh bodily excitements.
"And what can I be a gettin' you, sir," a saucy redhead straight out of "Moll Flander" asked Mark as she approached his table. The red ribbon with a white star around her neck set off her very pale skin as he smiled at her.
"A trencher of mixed meats in sauce, a tankard of ale, followed by an apple turnover and mother's milk provided by you, wench."
"Aye and you be a discriminatin' gent, ain't ya? I'll be taken your order to the kitchens right away, sir. Is there anything else I can get ya before it arrives?"
"As a matter of fact there is. After you deliver my order how about you return, crawl under my table and see if your dainty little mouth can find something to drink?"
"You be a meanin' you wants me to take you cock in my mouth, sir?"
"That is precisely what I mean, wench. Do you have a problem with it?"
"Oh, not me sir. I'll be back in a jiffy, you just see if I ain't, sir."
And that is just what happened. Her red curls could be seen as they went up and down his cock until she did indeed get a drink'.
When she served him his apple turnover she flipped one huge tit out of her loose top and in between bites of tasty turnover he washed it down with her warm, rich milk.
Across the room one gal was submitting to a strapping. Another lady was drinking from a private well of masculinity standing beside her chair and another man was using a birch branch on another waitress with a red ribbon around her neck.
At one o'clock Mark Sanders entered room five, second dungeon level.
A statuesque blond with a gold ribbon checked his itinerary and led him to a dark corner where he saw what he assumed was Karen. She had been prepared as requested.
Karen was lying on the damp floor. Her hands and feet were tied behind her back and she was laying on her side as ordered so Mark could see that her massive tits were bound in stringent rope bondage almost cutting them off from her rib cage. The deep blue color of her bound tits gave evidence that she had been bound for some time and the golden nipple rings stood out with arousal.
Her long blond hair was in complete disarray as if she had tossed it back and forth in agony for hours.
Bending down next to her Mark brushed the hair from her face. She was beautiful. The huge deep blue eyes that stared at him were full of pleading and pain but she uttered not a word as his warm hands caressed her cold tits.
"Are you ready to repent, Karen, for disobeying me?"
Karen knew the scenario, it had accompanied his application. She was to pretend that she was his wife and had gone against his wishes by fucking his worst enemy, Jim Talbert, and he had found out about her disobedience. And as the story went, she was now to pay for that lapse of judgment with her body.
"Ooohhh I'm sorry, Mark. Truly I ammm. Haven't I suffered enough all ready? You've ahhh had me tied up for over two hoursss. I aaahh ache alll over. My back is killing meeee, mmmyy titttsss feeelll like there are hundreds of knives in themmmm."
"No, my dear." He brushed the rest of her hair off of her face. "You haven't suffered nearly enough yet. But you will before you leave here. When I am done with you you wouldn't even be able to look at Jim without cringing."
"How could you do it, Karen? How could you actually fuck my worst enemy?"
"I could forgive you if he had taken you by force, but you went willing to him. That is what I can't forgive. That is why I am going to punish you. And you are going to beg for the punishment I give you, aren't you? Because you know, if you don't I'll kick you out without a dime and you like the life style I can provide."
"So let me hear you, Karen. Let me hear you beg me to hurt you as you know you deserve to be hurt for what you did to me. Beg me Karen. Beg me loud and long." And to emphasize his point he reached for one of her nipple rings and pulled it savagely away from her bound tit until she screamed.
"Aaaahhhhhhoooooooooowwwwww ... yeeeeesssss Mark yessssssssss hurt mmeeee plleassssssecccccccc huurrrrttttttt mmeeee."
"That's it, bitch. Beg me to hurt you over and over again."
He pulled on the other ring until she screamed again then he walked away. Taking the hook that was hanging from a rope in the ceiling he brought it to her and slipped it under the rope attached to her bloated tits. It clipped into place as he signaled the gold ribboned blond to hoist her into me air.
Karen's bound body slid across the floor as the rope pulled her to the center of the room by her bound tits and her screams filled the stone walled room.
Just as the rope was starting to pull her off the floor another couple entered the room and took a bench against one wall to watch. Mark gave the couple a glance-the man wore a black ribbon, the woman a red one and her hands were manacled behind her back.
He ignored them and turned his attentions back to Karen as she was raised off the ground by her bound tits.
He saw her blue hands try to reach for the rope that was pulling up and up, but they stayed firmly behind her back still attached to her ankles as her entire weight was supported by her bound tits and her screams filled the air.
"Jim kissed those tits, didn't he?"
"Yyeeeeesssssssssss."
"And you enjoyed it didn't you?"
"Oohhhh Godddd yeeeeeeesssssssss ... aaaaaaahhhh pleassseeeeeeeeeeee beat awaaaaaaaaaayyyy his touch from mmmmeee ... pleassseeeee."
"I will, my dear. I will. You just keep begging me to hurt you."
Mark picked up the slender rod that was lying by his feet and brought it down across both bloated tits.
"Yyeeesss beatttt mmyyyy damneddddd titttss."
He brought the rod to her again. That time her almost black nipple split with the blow and her screams filled his head as he did it to her other nipple and got the same result.
With both nipples split and bleeding he proceeded to use the rod on the entire area of her bound and bloated tits.
Karen screamed and begged with every blow of the rod to her massive, pain filled tits. Over and over the rod landed until she could stand it no more and she begged for mercy.
Mark knew what that word meant at Chattel Castle-it meant stop, the victim was at the breaking point.
But he was far from disappointed as he landed the next stroke of the rod to her opened cunt.
"He fucked this cunt, didn't he?"
"Yeessss ... aaahhhhh beattt hissss touch away from it tooooooo ... pleasssee."
And Mark did just that. He hit her opened cunt time after time as she hung by her bleeding tits and begged for each and every blow that landed.
Five. Ten. But by eighteen Karen again begged for mercy and he stopped. A quick glance at the gold ribboned blond informed him that he still had about two minutes left of her tit hang.
"What about your ass, Karen? Did he touch your ass? Did he kiss it? Did he fuck it?"
"Yyessssssss."
"Yes, what."
"Alll threee ... Godddd pleaasseeee ... beat his touch away frommm mmmyyyy aassss ... beat it pleasse."
And in the remaining two minutes Mark used the rod on her ass as much as he could considering her position.
When the time was over the blond helped him to lower Karen to the floor and remove the rope from around her tortured tits.
Karen shrieked in abject suffering as the blood began to return to her tortured hillocks.
In between one of Karen's screams Mark heard another scream and looked at the couple who had entered earlier.
And as Mark let Karen rest before they continued he watched the man as he tore first one then the other nipple ring out of his slave's nipples as she squirmed atop the bench. After pulling them from her flesh, Mark watched the man as he placed them back in the torn nipples. When they were again in place he used a clamp on both to keep them there as the slave screamed for him to fuck her.
He watched until they were done then turned back to Karen.
Bending down close to her ear, he whispered, "Are you ok?" Placing his ear next to her mouth he heard her gasp a "Yes." before he continued.
"Get your damned ass in the air, Karen, so I can whip away Jim's touch."
"Higher. Spread your legs wide. Now beg for the whip again. Let me hear you scream."
Karen did as ordered. Bringing her legs under her she raised her slightly whipped ass into the air and spread her legs out to her sides as Mark finally got good leverage to pound into her twitching cheeks.
"Beeeaattt mmmyyy aassss ... wipe his touchhhh awaaayyy."
On and on she begged as he brought it down again and again on her upraised ass until he could no longer withhold his need.
Mark dropped the whip and sank behind Karen's twisting form. One quick squeeze of his shaft and he knew it was as hard as it was going to get. He tipped his hips forward and sank his cock up her switched ass.
Karen screamed as her ass fought his entry but when it suddenly yielded to his massive wedge she had no problem with begging him to continue his ravishment, as across the room the other woman's screams and beggings joined hers.
CHAPTER THREE
When Nicole showed us the request form from Mr. Jason Weatherbee it became obvious that we needed some additional staffing.
Mr. Weatherbee had particular tastes. He wanted his two slaves to be very robust, way past Rubens' standards. They were to be no taller than five five and weigh over two hundred. He would settle for no less than DDD breasts that he intended to pierce, among other things.
His check of $30,000 informed us that he was totally serious and we began contacting our worldwide network to satisfy his wants.
Great Uncle Harold, who was still acting like a twenty year old, gave us our first lead.
He informed us, via international telephone, that he was currently in Australia where he had gotten his copy of our communication and he was investigating a possible candidate. He gave us the basic information about Caroline and informed us that he would have further contact within two weeks.
Surprisingly I found another candidate. I was in New York City on my monthly purchasing trip when I learned about the rotund Becky.
As was my custom, I was canvassing the S&M clubs around the city for possible personnel. I entered one club at 11:00, took a seat next to the stage, ordered a drink and began to look around.
I had been there only a few minutes when Mike, the owner of the club, came up to me (we had purchased several slaves from him in the past and he knew my reason for being there).
"You on another recruiting effort?"
"Yes, sir. We received a request for a very full bodied female slave. Among other things she must submit to tit piercings, female to female relationships and whippings. Anyone come to mind, sir?"
"Hummm. There was a real obese one in here about two weeks ago, but no one would take her on. I mean she was HUGE. The only one that would have anything at all to do with her was Tim Harrison."
"He consented to whip her, burnt her several times using her for an ashtray, and used her for a footstool, but he refused to fuck her."
"So what happened to her?"
"I don't know. But I can find out, Tim is over there. Want me to check about her?"
"Yes, please."
Mike talked with Jim for several minutes then came back to me.
Her name was Becky Moss and Tim knew her address.
Five minutes later I was taking a cab to her address-not in the better part of town either. I had to bribe the cabbie $50 to take me there and wait while I interviewed her.
I climbed the rat infested stairs to the third floor and knocked on her door. Fortunately she was home, at least her TV was blaring away.
A moment later a voice asked who I was. I gave her my name and told her that if she was the Becky Moss that had been at the club a couple of weeks ago, I had a proposition for her to consider. The door opened a crack and I was staring at a fat cheek and the most beautiful green eye I had ever seen. A chain was undone and I was invited in.
Becky Moss more than fit the bill for Mr. Weatherbee. She was enormous. She tipped the scales at well over two hundred and I don't think there was ever a bra made that could encase her massive tits. Her dress looked like a tent as it billowed around her massive girth.
After questions and answers, an inspection of her scared flesh, it was determined that she was a bona fined candidate and willing to submit to prove herself. Using her phone I called my Master's agent in the city and we scheduled an appointment for Becky. Fifteen minutes later we were both in the cab, her suitcase packed in the trunk of the cab and heading for my motel.
The following day we got acquainted and I liked the overweight Becky tremendously. And her story was a simple one.
She had always been on the hefty side, dated little because of it, and when the few men that she did manage to date treated her like shit she willingly accepted their treatment until ill treatment was all she desired.
Her last lover had even insisted that she gain even more weight, which she easily did. And her two year stint with him saw her graduating from belts and humiliation to whips, canes, piercings and degradation. The more he did to her the more she wanted done and when he dumped her three months ago she became desperate.
She started visiting the local clubs trying to find another to treat her the way she needed to be treated. Thus far she was unsuccessful and more than willing to accept my offer for her to be tested for Chattel Castle.
By 4:00 the next day she had been tested and passed with flying colors by my Master's agent and we were taking the limo back to the castle.
Caroline arrived three days later and Nicole contacted Mr. Weatherbee that his women were now available. He made his reservations for the following week.
Jason Weatherbee was a tall string-bean of a man. He stood well over six foot and couldn't have weighed more than one forty. He looked like your typical nerd, complete with thick lensed glasses, but there the resemblance stopped. His personality was the same as the male members of my family-powerful, assertive and demanding.
He was one of those wiz kid wonders who had made his first million at the age of eighteen and had added to it over the past fifteen years making him well on his way to being a billionaire. His one unfulfilled desire in life was a woman. And not just any woman either.
When Jason Weatherbee entered his suite of rooms Becky and Caroline were waiting as directed. Their massive flesh was on blatant display.
Caroline was tied spread eagled on the king size bed. Her massive tits were bound up in so much rope chat they stood straight up in the air, her nipples were ten inches above her chest wall. Her fat rolled legs were so wide apart that her cunt was on display, complete with dildo in place. A cat-of-nine tails lay between her legs.
Becky's bulk was presented over a huge desk that sat in a corner. Her legs were tied to the legs of the desk, her tits pressed to the top surface as she bent at the waist. Her long brown hair hid the cock gag in her mouth but Jason could see the cock-handled whip sticking out of her ass. Her hands and arms were free and as he entered she was caressing her sand dollar, sized nipples.
"Oh my, they are beautiful," came from the entering Weatherbee as his guide placed his suitcase on a nearby table.
"I must have them immediately."
The gold ribboned guide nodded his head and went to stand by the dresser that held Mr. Weather-bee's tokens as Jason quickly discarded his clothes on the floor as he advanced to Caroline.
Kneeling beside her bulky frame on the side of the bed Jason reached out to caress her mountain of tit flesh that escaped from the binding ropes.
"Mmum," came from Caroline as his thumb and finger pinched an exposed nipple.
"Oh beautiful lady, I just have to whip these."
"Yes. Yes, whip my tits." Caroline was more than eager to start. Her avid eyes watched him step down from the bed and take up the cat that was lying between her legs.
He untangled the strands, his long slender cock pointing toward the ceiling, and brought his arm back. He watched her eyes, saw a flicker of fear, and brought it down to crash on top of the rope bound hills.
Caroline screamed as the strands cut into her bloated nipples and curled around her rope bound tits. Her billowing stomach shook like jello.
He struck her nipples again. Again she screamed but he also heard a squashing sound. Locating the source he turned his head in time to see the dildo pop out of her snatch. He smiled and hit her tits again and again.
Meanwhile across the room Becky raised herself up and watched. With every stroke of the whip to her companion she twisted the hell out of her own nipples and began to moan with desire.
She clinched and unclenched her ass cheeks to stimulate the cock handle in her ass as she stretched her reddish-brown nipples like slabs of taffy. Her tongue slid over the cock gag in her mouth as she wished to replace herself with Caroline's bound form on the bed.
Jason could see no more pink flesh on Caroline's tits, it had all turned red or black and blue, when he altered his area of attack and buried the whip strands into her shaking middle as she screamed to high heaven. When he curled several strands of the cat to kiss her spread cunt she screamed for him to stop as she begged for mercy.
Jason knew the rules of Chattel Castle and no more blows landed on her opened cunt, but they did land on her legs, stomach and again on her bound tits.
The anticipation of his dreams finally caused him to drop the cat and straddle her atop the bed. As his long cock sank into her saturated cunt flesh he used his hands to unwrap her tits.
When they were finally free he clamped his mouth on them like a starving man seeking life's sweetest nectar. He loved huge tits. Loved to suck them, kiss them, bite them, whip them and fuck them and the two in his possession were all he had dreamed they would be.
He slammed his frame into the flesh beneath him, shook with her quivering padding as his lips, teeth and tongue began to draw her blood to the surface as his cock pounded away.
Then having waited so long to fulfill his dreams his teeth bit down as his come splattered her pulsating tunnel. With the last of his seed's release he crashed upon her and smothered himself in her massive mounds.
Somewhere in the distance he heard moans of pleasure coming from someone else.
When reality returned, and still hearing the other moans, he turned to seek out the source and saw his other slave for a week who was tied to the desk.
Using Caroline's tit as a pillow he really, for the first time, looked at the other girl.
Her wide spread legs were trembling with desire. Her pudgy hands were twisting and pulling her massive nipples and her face was flushed with heated desire. Then turning his head slightly as he remembered that there was a cock handled whip up her ass, he looked to see if he could see it. And see it he did.
The strand of leather that hung from the handle deep within her ass was twisting back and forth across the floor between her legs. And if he was any judge of such actions she was coming from observing and her own hands on her tits.
And he was an excellent judge for that was exactly what Becky was doing, and that thought caused his cock to start unfurling in Caroline's swamped snatch.
Gathering his strength he withdrew from her body and approached the girl at the desk.
"Did you use your hands on your cunt to come, pretty lady?" He asked her as he used a hand to caress some of her hair out of her flushed face and awaited her reply.
Jason smiled when she shook her head in the negative and presented her hands for him to smell. The lack of female juice smell on her hands peeved that she had responded truthfully. There was no scent of her juices on her hands.
"Are you one of those one in a thousand that can come from breast stimulation alone?" He wasn't all that surprised when she nodded her head confirming his statement. He smiled and placed her hands back on her tits.
"Come for me again, pretty lady. Come by pleasuring your magnificent breasts for me. Let me see how you please yourself. Show me what you like."
And Becky did just that. Her strong fingers and hands moved around her breasts. She pulled them, tweaked them, dug her long nails into them as her eyes never left his as he watched her. Then only as she again climaxed did her eyes close.
Caught up in her own pleasures she hardly noticed him spreading her cunt lips to watch her twitching clit bob up and down as her fingers dug in and held on as her tremors began to fade.
When she again opened her eyes she was met with the sight of his renewed shaft pointing at her quivering tits.
Raising her eyes even more she saw the satisfied smile on his face.
"You treated them roughly, pretty lady. Is that what you like?"
Becky nodded her head as she again sank her fingers into her heated flesh.
"And what about the rest of your magnificent body, does it like to be treated just a harshly?"
Again she nodded and again he smiled.
Reaching around her head Jason removed the gag from her mouth. "What is your name, pretty lady?"
Bringing moist tongue to parched, dry lips, she answered, "Becky Moss, Master. Rebecca Lynn Moss."
"Rebecca Lynn Moss you have eyes like emeralds, breasts like billowing clouds and a body that is driving me wild. I must have you. May I have your body to do with as I want?"
"Yes, Master. I give my body to you freely to do with as you want."
"And if I want to whip it would you object?"
"No, sir."
"What if I wanted to drive needle after needle into you?"
"I would thank you with each one, Master."
"What if I wanted to whip your naked body through the marketplace of the castle?"
"I would count myself blessed, sir."
"Have you no shame, Becky?"
"None, sir. I would tie myself to a float at a Fourth of July parade, hand you a whip and beg you to beat me the entire distance if it would please you, sir."
"And it just might please me. But for now I want you to stand there, keep your hands at your side, while I use the whip that is in your ass to beat your come inducing breasts. Can you do that, Becky? Can you stand there unrestrained and let me whip your breasts?"
"I ... I hope so, sir."
"We shall see."
Thus saying Jason Weatherbee knelt and untied her ankles from the desk, turned her around, led her to the middle of the room, and removed the cock-handled whip from her ass.
Becky moaned in pleasure when ten inches of the handle was jerked free but otherwise remained standing with her hands at her side.
"Shake your breasts for me, Becky. Wake up my target."
He brought the whip behind him and watched her do as asked. While they were still quivering back and forth he snapped his arm forward and drove the black leather deep in her breasts.
She didn't scream.
He did it again and saw her curl her fingers around her ass cheeks to hold her hands in place as a moan escaped her opened mouth. Three quick blows landed on her stripped mountains, a gasping grunt was released from deep in her throat, her knees bent a second before she again locked them straight and her tongue came out to lick her red lips.
"Aaaagggggg," came spiraling out of her when the seventh blow landed directly across her left nipple. Her fingernails were beginning to cut into her ass cheeks as she used them to keep her hands out of the way.
"Shake them for me, Becky. Make them beg me to hit them."
Becky took a deep breath, turned her shoulder to the right then quickly back to the left. Her hands hung on for dear life in her ass as her upper body twisted back and forth as with each turn of her torso the whip landed on her swirling breasts.
When the fourteenth lash stroke landed directly on both swinging nipples Becky finally screamed and came. Her legs collapsed beneath her, her nails drew blood from her ass cheeks and Jason stopped in total awe.
His fingers eased their grip on the whip handle as he dropped to his knees on the floor too. "Place your hands behind your back and lay down, love, and I will come to you."
His words filtered through her brain.
Becky pulled her fingernails out of herself, brought her hands to her back, dropped them behind her, flipped her legs out and as she lowered herself to the floor she crossed her hands in the small of her back.
A second later Jason's full weight was pressed on top of her as his cock entered her pulsating slit. Savagely he pounded into her. Becky withheld nothing from her responses. Jason had no remaining doubts as to how his new slave wished to be treated.
Roughly. Extremely rough. Just the way he like to treat her, and all of his lovers.
They spent the night together. The three of them.
The following day I was required to attend to a matter in the marketplace of the castle and I saw for myself what transpired between the physically opposite couple.
Becky was dressed as a scullery, maid. The pleated white bib of her dress was stretched to the limit as it tried to cover her massive tits and as Mr. Weatherbee led her through the marketplace by a leash attached to her neck.
I paused to see what they would do. I had read his request and was curious to see if he would be doing what he had written.
Becky carried a woven basket in each hand as she followed him down the lane that contained the fresh produce. Sure enough he stopped at the carpenter shed before continuing on.
I chose a place near the entrance to watch.
"My I help you, sir," asked the carpenter as they walked to the workbench that stood at the front of his stall.
"Yes. I require a five foot length of wood that is approximately two by two inches in width. Do you have something in those dimensions?"
"I believe so. Let me check. I'll be right back."
The village carpenter turned to his supplies and a few minutes later he returned with the requested piece of wood. "Is this what you had in mind, sir?"
"Yes. Yes, that will do nicely."
"Will that be all?"
"No. I will also need two of the longest, fattest nails you have that will not split the wood."
"Yes, sir."
The carpenter made a quick search of the bins that held his supply of nails and extracted two from a far bin. "I think these are the largest that won't split the wood. And will that be all?"
"That is all I need to purchase, but if I might have use of your workbench and some blocks of wood, I'd be most appreciative."
Mr. Weatherbee dropped a $100 token on top of said workbench.
The carpenter smiled, pocketed the token and you could literally hear the whispers spread through the marketplace. After all this was Chattel Castle and many began to guess what was to happen.
And as the carpenter set two huge blocks of wood atop the bench a crowd was beginning to form around his stall.
Mr. Weatherbee placed the five foot long piece of wood on top of the two blocks that were on the workbench. He smiled when he noted that they were at the correct height.
"Remove your breasts, my dear, and place them correctly."
I watched with the others as Becky pulled her massive breasts from her dress, curling the material beneath them and walked toward the carpenter's workbench. Taking a tit in each hand she placed them on top of the five foot length of wood and centered them.
When she was done her huge reddish-brown nipples hung over the edge of the wood and rested on top of the blocks, an equal amount of wood was on each side of her nipples. Her hands were shaking and her face was covered with sweat.
"Now place your hands behind your back, Becky, and I will tie them where they will be out of the way."
"Yes, Master." Becky crossed her hands behind her and in a matter a seconds they were tied by Mr. Weatherbee.
She took a deep shuttering breath and licked a drop of sweat from her upper lip as Mr. Weatherbee asked the carpenter if he might have use of his hammer.
The carpenter's stall was circled with bystanders as Mr. Weatherbee asked Becky, "Are you still prepared to carry my purchases, my dear?"
Becky's unsteady voice answered, "Yes, sir." as my envious cunt began to drool.
"Then we may proceed."
Jason Weatherbee picked up one of the nails that he had bought and placed it just above the darkened area of her left tit. Not satisfied with the exact placement of her nipple he rearranged it. When he was done all of the dark skin was hanging over the two by two, five foot length of wood and her hardened nipple lay on the block.
Again he placed the four inch long nail just above her nipple and held the hammer in his other hand. "This is your wish?"
"It ... ah is my wish, Master."
Satisfied with her response Jason pressed the ball of his hand into her tit as his thumb and first finger held the nail just above her nipple and pressed the end of the nail into her.
A collective gasp was heard from the surrounding spectators as he raised the hammer.
Then total silence. Not even a bird chirped as the hammer began its descent.
Metal striking metal filled the air as hammer connected with the flared end of the nail and sank into Becky's breast.
Her scream filled the marketplace as other gasping sounds surrounded her.
Becky's knees unlocked and her legs trembled as the hammer descended for the second time as nail penetrated wood.
Several screams filled the air.
I knew others were being tormented by masters or mistresses in the surrounding crowd but I never moved my eyes from Becky's pierced breast.
The hammer landed again, driving the nail into the block of wood atop the workbench as more screams filled the air, Becky's being the loudest.
Content that the nail was firmly attached, Jason walked around Becky's shaking form, in passing he caressed her cheek.
Standing to her right he moved her right breast into place and the process was repeated. Again three blows were needed to drive the nail into the block as more screams filled the marketplace that surrounded the carpenter's stall.
Becky was very efficiently nailed to the length of wood and to the blocks that it rested on.
But Jason did not require the blocks so all watched as he used a crowbar to pull the nails out of the blocks. As the nails struggled to remain in the blocks they were further pulled through Becky's breasts until they popped free and a tortured Becky finally allowed herself to drop to her knees amid the saw dust on the ground.
All gathered looked on with awe as she knelt on the ground.
Two four inch nails could be seen-metal, breasts, wood, then metal again-shaking with each breath that Becky took and many were surprised at the small amount of blood that was evident.
Becky made not a sound as her hair whipped back and forth around her head and tears glistened her chubby cheeks.
A loud thunk was heard and many looked as Mr. Weatherbee dropped the hammer on the workbench.
A moment later he stepped in front of Becky's kneeling form, lowered his zipper, removed his swollen cock and placed his legs outside of Becky's and brushed her hair from her sweat and tear coated face.
"Pleasure me Becky then we will continue with our shopping."
Becky blinked her eyes, trying to clear her vision.
Finally seeing what was before her, she said, "Yes, Master," brought her mouth to his straining cock and began to worship it as she knelt on the ground.
Loving the crown of his long shaft Becky covered it with her saliva and took it into her mouth. As inch by inch it entered her Jason began to shuffle his feet toward his kneeling slave. When the last of him was within her slavish mouth his legs began to push the wood nailed to her breasts into her billowing tits.
A gurgling moan came from around his cock as he pushed the wood deeper and deeper into her breasts as she laved his twitching cock with love.
Her huge pierced breasts quivered as her head went up and down on his shaft and his legs pressed the wood into her more and more as he hips slammed back and forth with the age old motions of man striving for sexual release.
I couldn't take my eyes off the couple in the carpenter's stall but I did hear evidence that Becky and Mr. Weatherbee were not the only ones seeking the same goal.
Becky ignored the obvious pain in her pierced tits as she very efficiently brought her Master to climax.
I knew the moment that his jets of cream began to feed her slaving mouth and a moment later it was a blatant fact as he pulled out of her mouth and sprayed the remainder on her wet face as other moans filled the air.
For several minutes I watched those around me and the couple in the carpenter stall.
One man could not be seen as he was under his mistress' dress and all knew what he was doing.
Another female slave was on her knees as she too paid homage to her Master's cock in her mouth.
Yet another couple were doing their own experiments with tits accepting pain as he used her nipple rings as handles while making his hands go in ever widening circles as she knelt on the ground and wreathed in agony.
Then again my attentions were brought back to Becky and Mr. Weatherbee.
He had aided her in rising and as many of us loaded on he placed a weaved basket on each end of her wooden "yoke".
A moment later he took up the leash that was attached to her neck and began to lead her down the isle of the marketplace.
The five foot length of wood made her passage difficult through the bustling crowds and occasionally the ends of her "yoke" would be jostled by passers-by, some intentionally some not, as Mr. Weatherbee did indeed shop for fresh produce.
At the fruit stand he placed several apples in one basket that was supported by Becky's breasts and even from my distance I could hear her painful moan.
The apples were followed by several oranges placed in the other basket. And on and on they progressed.
I was informed later that Becky's breast yoke took a total of five apples, four oranges, a bunch of grapes, two cucumbers, four carrots, a head of lettuce, two cantaloupes, a pound of string beans, four kiwi, and a half of watermelon.
Twice she had fallen to her knees in pain and climax, but both times she again rose to follow her Master.
Their collected food was taken to the kitchens and prepared for their lunch.
Two days later I was informed that they wished to marry. And as this was not a real unusual occurrence at Chattel Castle they were married that every evening in one of the dungeons.
It was my pleasure to act as Becky's Matron of Honor. The following day they flew to Mr. Weatherbee's home in Texas.
Caroline agreed to stay on at the castle. She agreed to work in the kitchens when not otherwise engaged.
CHAPTER FOUR
I had not received my bi-weekly beatings for two weeks and was beginning to wonder if my Master was beginning to tire of me, but such was not the case.
My Master informed me that I was to be used as one of the common slaves. This had happened twice before since opening the castle so it came as no surprise.
I was more than willing to submit to being a common slave as I knew my Master enjoyed lending me out to others.
I also knew that what I was to receive would indeed be very painful for I was only used when others could not be found.
On a cold, windy, rainy day in late September my Master removed my gold ribbon and replaced it with a red ribbon with a white star and two slender bands of purple (the purple showed that I was of the ruling family, a very expensive piece of merchandise).
I knew that this day I would serve others to please my Master. And perhaps if I was lucky my Master would join in too.
Ordered to dress, I donned the clothes that my Master had laid out for me-a dark green silk dress with semiprecious stones sown in the white lace that trimmed the bodice, a tightly laced corset that pushed my creamy tits up so much that they threatened to spill over the edges, silk stockings, garter, five full, lacy under slips and satin slippers.
A hairdresser came in and arranged my hair atop my head with long slender curls escaping to frame my face. When she was finished my Master placed a diamond and emerald necklace around my neck, the largest emerald resting between my pushed up breasts and matching earrings in my ears.
There was no doubt that I was to be a very high ranking lady-I began to wonder what was to happen to me.
My Master, dressed in similar lavish style, led me to one of the main reception rooms of the castle.
Upon entering it was obvious to see that a ball was in progress as musicians played and other lavishly dress couples danced around the mirror lined room.
We had staged many of these balls in the past as it seemed to be a favorite of our customers and when my Master lead me to the dance floor I thought nothing of it.
As we danced to a lilting waltz he explained to me what was to happen.
"Do you remember the request form from a Mr. Craig Williamson?"
I did remember it and my blood began to flow faster in my veins as he continued.
"You are to be the Duchess of Seville who is accused of heresy against the Holy Roman Church.
"It has come to the Church's attention that you have aided several dissenters in escaping their just do from the Holy Inquisition. Naturally you did aid them and naturally you will deny it, and thus you will be taken by the Inquisition."
"Mr. Williamson and his friends have paid $50,000 each to get your confession so make sure they get their money's worth. When you can take no more you are to say mustard and I will stop the proceedings, but try to last."
"They want it continue for at least two days. Understand?"
"Yes, Master. It will be as you wish."
Mr. Williamson had requested that he and two of his friends be allowed to torture females in the Spanish Inquisition room.
I quickly recalled some of the things they wanted to do-whippings, the rack, trial by fire, cage imprisonment and piercings. In total they requested two slaves along with some minor damage to common slaves and I wondered who the others would be as my Master whirled me around the dance floor.
For two hours we danced and dined in opulent splendor of the privileged.
Servants catered to our every wish and occasionally we could see couples engaging in validations as noblemen would sink hands into plunging necklines of willing partners.
Several women were danced around the floor with both breasts exposed to the flickering candle light. One woman was dancing totally nude except for her stockings and shoes.
Our customers really did enjoy these fantasies of former times.
After over three hours of role playing I began to forget what was to happen but suddenly I was reminded as the doors to the ballroom were thrown open and the room filled with armor protected soldiers.
The long metal pikes of the forty soldiers surrounded the room, the guests forced to the center of the room and the priests of the Holy Inquisition entered.
Playing his part superbly my Master walked to the priests and demanded to know why his ball was being interrupted by the Holy Order.
A small man dressed in the black robes of the Inquisition stepped forward and began to read the proclamation.
"Be it known that the Holy Roman Church and the most reverend Inquisition charges the Duchess of Seville and her handmaid, Kimberly, with aiding at least five dissidents to escape the tribunal of the Holy Inquisition."
"It has been decreed that they submit themselves to the justice of the Inquisition."
"That is ridicules. The Duchess of Seville is my wife and her handmaid has been our servant for over five years." My Master enjoyed playing his role.
"Step aside your grace unless you wish to follow you wife and handmaid to our justice."
"I most assuredly will accompany them. And if, as you say, they have aided dissenters I myself will willingly see them punished for their crimes."
"I will not have my name shamed by false accusations, if they should be found innocent, nor by their actions if found guilty. I demand attendance."
"As you wish, your grace. If you would be so kind as to inform us which of the two ladies we are to take into custody, we may begin."
A few minutes later Kim, the nanny to Chattel Castle who had joined me before in the Spanish Inquisition torture chambers, and I were being forcefully drug down to the third level dungeons where the Spanish Inquisition room was located.
Each of us were escorted by a pike carrying soldier as we fought every step of the way (after all we had a part to play). We caused quite a sensation as we made our way to the dungeons and many followed in our wake to see our fates.
By the time we arrived in the Spanish Inquisition room we were practically naked as our struggles had forced our guards to be quite harsh.
The beautiful, black Kim only had the remains of a tattered chemise covering her and I wasn't much more covered as I had only the tightly laced corset, stockings and a few remaining shreds of green silk covering my flushed flesh. My jewels were safely hidden by one of my guards.
Upon entering the Inquisition room we were hit by the intense heat of the burning braziers and the stares of the three black robed priests that awaited us. And as we were drug to stand in front of the priests, spectators began to file into the chamber and take the benches that lined the walls.
One of the priests stepped in front of me and began to speak.
"Do you, Christine Seville, Duchess of Seville of mighty Spain, admit or deny that you and your maid, Kimberly Degus, aided heretics to escape the justice of this high tribunal?"
"I deny any and all accusations. I know of no heretics. I offered no aid to anyone. I demand to be released this instance."
The guard on either side of me dug their hands deeper into my arms and pulled my hands behind my back as the black robed priest slapped my face three times. "You lie, lady. Bring the prisoners forward." Three common female slaves were brought forward, each showing evidence of some punishment on their bodies, and confessed that I and my maid had helped them to escape the priests of the Inquisition by hiding them in my cellar until they could be taken away.
"What say you now, Lady Seville?"
"I say they are lying. I have never seen these women before in my life. And I demand, again, that you release me instantly."
That comment was answered as my guards forced me to my knees and the priest again slapped my face.
"Lying heretic. We have their confessions and we will have yours too. Take her to the rack."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw my Master smile as I was drug across the stone floor and hulled up to stand beside the rack.
I fought my guards as much as I could to no avail. My wrists were soon attached to the leather cuffs above my head.
As they were trying to ties my ankles to the other cuffs I managed to kick one of my guards in the stomach.
He retaliated by slamming his fist into my stomach and as I tried to catch my breath from his blow my ankles were firmly encased in the leather ankle cuffs, my remaining clothes cut off me.
When they stepped back I was effectively bound, stretched out in an X as chills covered my naked body.
Meanwhile the priests were questioning Kim and that cheeky black beauty was having one hell of a time as she cursed a blue streak at the black robed priests and called them every know word of repulsions.
She denied helping the heretics, she denied being my handmaid and she denied the priests authority over her.
Needless to say, none of which did her any good. Because of her ebony skin she was stripped of her remaining clothing and Inspected for signs of the devil, and when a small mole on her left breast was discovered it was determined that it was a mark of her serving the devil.
The hissing black entrancetress was soon chained to the stone wall as each priests thoroughly inspected her devil sign.
As one priest squeezed her tit a stream of pure white milk was forced from her nipple.
"She not only serves the devil but feeds his offspring's too," came from one of the priests as I watched his cock raise the front of his robe.
"Remove the devil's drink from the bitch," the high priest said and I assumed him to be Mr. Williamson.
The other two then must be Mr. Herin's and Mr. Straitfield.
A cart was pulled to stand in front of Kim and shortly thereafter two huge stone with a wheel on top and bisecting the stones was placed on top of the cart.
Kim and I both knew how the breast press operated as it had been used on us many times before and I knew of Kim's love of tit torture. My own cunt gave a pleasant twitch as Kim licked her lips in anticipation.
Kim screamed out her defiance as her tits were placed between the upper and lower stones.
Slowly one priest began to turn the wheel and the two stone came closer together, Kim's tits trapped between.
She called them bastards, scum of the earth, lecherous horny half-men as the wheel was turned more and more.
As the stones came closer and closer together her mother's milk began to flow. At first a dribble, then a steady stream of pure white milk exited her ebony breasts that were getting flatter and flatter by the moment.
Each drop was collected in a silver tray that was attached to the front side of the breast press and we knew that later it would be sold to some of the spectators at an over inflated price which they would willingly pay. After all, how often does one get to drink mother's milk that has been pressed from tortured tits?
Kim's full tits were compressed to no less than two inches next to her chest.
I knew she was in extreme agony and loving every second of it. When she had joined us at Chattel Castle as Nanny for the residing children she had demanded occasional tit torture. And she was getting it as the stones pressed together more and more until her screams filled the room and the last drop of milk hung from .her hardened nipple.
"Confess to your crimes against the church, bitch. Confess and you will be freed."
"Go ... toooo hellll ... you bloody ... bastarrddd."
"Turn it again."
"Aaaaaaahhhhhheeeeeeeeee ... go ... tooooo hellll."
"Do you confess, bitch?"
"Nnnooooooo ... you bastarrrrddd."
"Remove the cart."
Two of the priests pulled the cart from under the breast press and the two stones were supported by Kim's swollen, squeezed dry tits.
When the cart was jerked away the bottom stone crashed into her ribs and that along with the weight of the stones hanging from her breasts made Kim scream like I had never heard her scream before.
"That's right, bitch. Pray to our sweet Lord for your salvation. Do you confess to aiding the admitted heretics?"
"Nnnnnooooooo ... you bastarrrrddd."
"Let her think about her sins for a while. It's time to question the Duchess."
Thus they left Kim chained to the wall, the stone breast press hanging from her smashed tits and came to me.
"Lady Seville do you confess to aiding the heretics?"
"I confess to nothing. I did nothing against the Mother Church and I demand that you release me."
I was still chained to the rack but otherwise quite comfortable. My hands were beginning to get cool as they lacked blood from being over my head and my feet still rested on the stone floor.
The massive wooden rack that was shaped like a V on its side had yet to be extended by the huge screw that resided near the point of the V. The two ends of the V had wide forks that held my arms and legs wide apart, but as yet they were not pulled apart by the screw at the juncture of the V.
All of my body was totally available as I stood at the ends of the rack.
"Father Michael would you be so kind as to turn the screw?"
One of the black robed priest walked behind me and a moment later I heard the ominous creaking of wood on wood as Father Michael began to turn the screw.
Slowly my wide spread arms began to rise toward the ceiling and with each turn of the screw the priests asked me to confess and I denied to do so.
The upper forks of the V began to raise me off the floor.
My shoulders took up my weight and my hands became numb from lack of blood.
The priests continued to ask for my confession and I continued to assert my innocence.
The upper forks of the rack kept pulling me further and further toward the ceiling and the bands around my ankles began to pull me toward the floor.
I was beginning to be stretched by the rack as the priests droned on and on.
I felt my muscles and bones starting to protest but all I was really conscious of was my drooling cunt that was in danger of climaxing as the pain filled my strung out body.
I had been trained to come when pain was inflicted upon me and what they were doing to me was making it happen as I screamed out in pain and pleasure.
As I gloried in my pleasures I heard the head priest ask for a whip. I opened my eyes.
Father Michael turned the screw another revolution and the head priest brought his whip forward to land on my milk filled breasts.
I screamed. I came.
Milk began to seep out of my whipped nipples.
"Another that feeds the devil's spawn," came from the head priest as he landed the whip on my dripping nipples again.
My left shoulder gave a pop as it threatened to come out of the socket.
Father Michael turned the screw again and the head priest landed the whip again as the third priest knelt between my wide spread legs, saying "We must check for the devil's cream here too."
The priest between my legs did nothing priestly to my eager cunt. He dove in like a man possessed. Lips, tongue and teeth were well versed in taking pleasures from a woman's cunt and I gave him what he wanted.
I flooded his mouth with my devil's cream as I came over and over as the rack was screwed further and further apart and as the whip landed again and again on my pain loving tits as the milk became a steady stream.
I felt my right shoulder give a pop as the rack pulled me some more. Fearing that my joints would be pulled apart, against my Master's wishes, I screamed, "Mustardddddddddd" and I felt no more pulling.
None but my Master knew our code word so I knew that he had stopped Father Michael from turning the screw. Knowing that he was observing me gave me untold thrills.
I needed to please him. The others were instruments that he used, but it was my Master that I obeyed. I had to last at least two days to please him.
I felt the whip land again and again against my breasts.
I felt the man drink of my juices between my legs.
I wondered what Father Michael would now do that he wasn't turning the screw.
Then my world changed.
My breasts were no longer being whipped and I felt a very large cock enter my seeping cunt and a moment later one entered my willing ass.
I hung there stretched by the rack as two priests made use of my body.
I came over and over again as the head priest fucked my cunt and drank my devil's milk from my whipped breasts and the other priest's cock checked out my asshole for other signs of the devil.
Opening my tear filled eyes I saw Father Michael remove the breast press from Kim's tits and sink his took of the church up her cunt to their mutual satisfaction.
When the priests had finished their churchly duties Kim and I were again questioned.
We both still refused to sign confessions and were rearranged for further interrogations.
I was chained, my back to the stone wall, my feet didn't touch the floor. There were two wooden boards behind me, one pressed into my shoulder blades the other pressed into the fleshy part of my ass.
My cunt gave a twitch of delight because I knew the purpose of those wooden boards.
Again I was asked to sign a confession, again I refused.
Kim was taken over to the whipping post. It was ten foot high and eight inches square. Her back was to the pole and her hands manacled above her head as she stood on her tiptoes. Other manacles were attached to her ankles and a moment later her feet were pulled behind the pole and secured.
She hung by her wrists. She gave a groan of pleasure when she refused to sign a confession.
The priests had discarded their robes and sweat could be seen on their flesh in the stifling hot chamber as they approached the bound Kim.
Slipping from their roles they gave scant attention to obtaining her confession as they approached her and fondled her tits. Each man had an eight inch needle in his hand.
The first man grabbed her left nipple and pulled it away from her body as he poised the needle at the top of her tit.
"Confession is good for the soul." He touched the needle to her tit.
"I agree. I confess that I'm hornier than hell, you damned bastard. So what are you going to do about it?"
She licked her lips as she stared at the needle.
She shook her body, making her tit sway in his hand then looked him straight in the eye. "You gonna pierce my devil tits, bastard? You think that God doesn't know you're horny too just thinking about my magnificent black tits?"
"May the Lord protect us from sinners like you."
He pulled her nipple further away from her and jammed the needle through the fullest part of her tit.
Kim screamed and her hips jerked forward in her climax as he worked the needle back and forth in her tit, the pointed end jabbing her chest wall beneath her full pierced tit.
"Did you help the heretics?"
"Nnnnoooooooooo you bastarrrrddd."
"Very well. Father James."
He stepped back and the other man came forward, his needle held in ready.
"Confess, woman." He pressed his needle to the top of her right tit as he captured her nipple in his other hand.
"I confess ... that you have one damned fine hard on. Do you confess that you want to fuck this black devil's maid?"
We all saw his cock give a jerk at her words. He licked his own lips as he drove the needle through her tit and as her scream filled the stone room a drop of precome glistened on the tip of his cock.
He stepped away and the head priest came to her.
He had his needle in one hand and a pair of pliers in the other. His shaft was leaking fluids too.
"Do you confess to the all mighty God that you have sinned against his church?"
"Yes. I confess that I have fucked men that weren't my husband. Including you, you damned bastard, if your swollen cock is any indication. Do you want to fuck me too, you bastard of the church? Can't you just feel your slimy cock sinking into my devil's cave?
"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeee."
Kim's scream echoed around the room as the head priest drove the needle through the side of her left tit, pushing it way in.
Then using the pliers he pulled it through some more and started to press it into her right tit.
Kim screamed and even from my distance I could see her clit jerking up and down as he pinned her breasts together. When he stood back all could see that there was a needle in each of her breasts and one that connected them together as she sagged against the whipping post and her clit twitched up and down in her multiple climaxes.
"Do you confess?"
"Iiieee confesssss thattt I'mmmm hornier than hell, you damned bastards of the church."
The head priest turned to his assistants, and said, "Heat the next needles that pierce her. She will confess."
Each of the priests held their needles in a pair of pliers so they wouldn't get burnt themselves as they held them in the flames of a brazier.
Then one at a time they drove the red hot needles into Kim's tits.
Her screams and the smell of burnt flesh filled the chamber, along with the scent of aroused woman.
Three, then six red hot needles were buried in her quivering breasts and still she refused to confess to anything but her horniness and theirs.
Three more red hot needles were driven through her tits and they began to look like a very full pincushion. Then as each of them did it again they each fucked her to everyone's mutual delight.
When they were ready to come to me again Kim had fifteen needles piercing her tits and had come at least four times that I was aware of.
"And what of you, my lady? Are you ready to confess yet? Or do we continue with our interrogations?"
By that time I was ready to confess to anything they wanted me to confess to if they would only make my body sing with the pain that I loved.
But to make it sing I couldn't confess to the charges of aiding and heresy.
"I confess that I am envious of my maid, but not to the charges that you accuse me of. I did nothing against the church."
"So be it. When you are ready to confess just tell us and we will stop."
He turned to his assistants and said, "Let us begin. Father Michael you may have the upper crank and Father James you can turn the lower one."
I knew what his words meant but many of the bystanders that still watched didn't.
I searched their faces to see if any of them knew but when I saw my Master's face smiling at me I smiled back and watched him as the priests began to turn the cranks that were attached to the boards behind me.
As they turned the cranks my body was forced away from the wall. Turn after turn my tits were pushed forward by the board behind my shoulder blades and my cunt was forced forward by the board behind my hips.
As they cranked and cranked me away from the wall I could hear the others in the room murmur as they began to understand that I was attached to a different kind of stretching rack.
I felt some small bones in my back crack as my body arched away from the stone wall.
My head fell back as my tits and cunt reached for the center of the room. My arms and legs again began to pull at my joints.
My nipples were hardened nubs and my nipple rings stood out at the ends of my tits. The ring in my clit was sticking straight out too as my arousal climbed and the rings in my cunt lips flapped in the air as my legs slowly slide behind me as my hips were thrust forward in lude invitation.
My body was in a U shape. My hands and feet back, my torso forward as my head hung and my long hair waved above the stone floor.
More bones cracked in my back and my joints complained of harsh treatment and when I felt a tendon start to snap I again screamed out "Mustardddd" and the cranking stopped.
I was breathing in short gasping gulps.
Tears were streaming to the sides of my face. I felt like a bow ready to release an arrow for an incredible distance.
"Confess, lady, or your devil rings will be pulled to the tearing point. We can see your servitude to the devil. You wear five of his rings. Confess or those rings of the devil will be put to use serving our gracious Lord. Confess!"
"I ammm ... not a heretic ... I helped no hereticss ... I serve only the trueeeee Lord."
I had been attached to this device before but on those occasions I had been whipped, never had I had my rings pulled in that position and I eagerly awaited to see what it felt like. I didn't have long to wait.
I felt what I assumed to be slender ropes being attached to my five rings and as I struggled to bring my head forward to verify that I saw my Master.
I saw his avid attention riveted to my bound body so I looked.
My rings were not being attached to slender ropes but to copper wires that sparkled in the lights of the room. Wire couldn't be stretched like rope. Was that their sole purpose, or was I to be given electrical shocks too?
I had been tortured with electricity before but never in the Spanish Inquisition room. My Master always adhered to the timetable of that room and electricity wasn't invented by that time period.
Would these priest of the Inquisition use electricity? Or did they use the wire for other reasons?
I didn't know, but I knew that I and the others would soon find out.
My eyes flashed to Kim.
She was contentedly still bound to the whipping post, the needles were still embedded in her tits and the combined come of the three priests was dripping out of her snatch.
But soon I concentrated on myself alone as I felt my rings being pulled away from my body.
I groaned as my nipples grew another two inches.
I screamed when my clit did the same.
Then I felt my cunt lips being pulled toward the floor and I screamed again.
I couldn't breathe well with my head back so I tried to bring it forward and just as I did all five rings were pulled at the same time and my screams reverberated and bounced off the stone wall of the chamber.
"Confess!"
"Nnnoooooooooooo."
I felt the tension ease against my rings and I relaxed as much as I could.
But when I heard a collective gasp from the bystanders I again tried to raise my head to look.
The head priest was walking toward me.
His hands were in heavy gloves that protected them from the cast iron brazier that he carried in his hands. The brazier was one of the smaller round ones. It had three hooks around its upper edges, equally spaced, to it could hang and not spill its contents.
The brazier was filled with red hot coals. He walked between wide spread legs and I began to understand.
My cunt and clit gave twitches of delight as I awaited for the wires to be attached to the hooks in the brazier.
I felt the heat of the coals sink into my cunt and inner legs as the head priest held the brazier in place as his assistants attached the wires that were hanging from my cunt lips and clit to the hooks.
I felt the wires slide through the hooks and the brazier came closer to my opened cunt. I felt the wires being secured. The two assistants stood back and the head priest began to withdraw his support of the brazier.
I screamed. My God did I ever scream as he withdrew his hands from the brazier and my three rings took charge of holding the weight of the case iron brazier filled with red hot coals.
My clit and cunt lips reached for the floor as the heat of the coals- began to roast them ever hotter and hotter as the brazier hung suspend from my rings.
I heard a sizzling sound and realized that a drop of my cunt juices had plopped onto the hot coals.
Now I knew why wire was used, rope would have burnt from the intense heat.
I screamed and screamed some more.
I began a frantic search of my Master. I finally found him standing just to the left of my body. And just as I was ready to scream "Mustard" I saw his expression.
He was bent forward inspecting my clit, cunt rings and the heated brazier. His eyes twinkled. And his fully engorged cock was outside his pants. He was aroused by my suffering and I knew that it took a lot to make that magnificent cock rise to its full stature.
I was pleasing him. He was enjoying my suffering and I couldn't fail him.
I swallowed the word I was about to scream out and let the pain sink into me.
I wallowed in my pain.
I felt my clit stretching more and more.
My cunt lips felt like they were two feet long and the heat of the coals was sending waves of heat up my stretched opening, roasting my central core with pain.
The brazier was beginning to heat up the wires attached to my rings and they too began to heat up.
As I was allowing myself to float with my pains I became aware that something was being done to my tits as well.
The wires attached to my nipple rings had been wrapped around a wooden arch that stood in front of me. The arch was wide and didn't interfere with anybody coming close to me.
One of the priest had climbed a ladder and he was in the final stages of securing my wires to the top of the arch. As I felt the pull of my three lower rings, he pulled my nipples toward the top of the arch and tied them off.
The top of the arch was about a foot above my straining nipples. He bent down and when next I saw his hands, he was holding two very fat candles that were aflame.
My blurry eyes watched as he laid the candles on their sides at the ends of the wires attached to my rings.
Even in my pain filled state I wondered about the significance of the candles and then I understood as I saw the heated wax follow the path of the wires toward my pulled nipples.
Slowly the wax traveled the wires until it reached my nipples. The heat of the wax settled around my tormented nipples and sank in with a vengeance.
Somewhere in my pain filled brain my ears registered the words, "Do you confess?" but I paid the words scant attention.
The wax began to build up on my nipples and spread over my tits.
My clit felt like it was ready to leave my body as it strained toward the heated brazier.
My cunt lips felt like they grew another foot toward the floor. A steady plop of my juices landed on the hot coals with a sizzle.
Then I felt a hand touch my left hip and I turned my head to see who it was.
It was my Master.
I came like never before as his hand caressed my hip and my fluids cooled the heated coals hanging beneath my roasted cunt.
I was in a world of my own. Vaguely I could hear the others in the room as they too strove for completion but all I was truly aware of was my Master's hand caressing my hip as I came over and over again and again.
Finally my world went from swirling lights to the deepest darkness I had ever known.
When I came to, I realized that I was still in the Inquisition room.
My body was curled up in one of the opened metal cages. I had been forced into a crouching position, my knees were widely spread and tied, digging into the metal bars at the bottom of the cage. There was a gag in my mouth and my breasts were encased in rope, cutting them off from my chest as they hung lower than my knees. Bars pressed into my back but I could tell that no metal was around my ass and the only bars below me were the ones that my knees pressed into.
I was in the access cage.
My ass, cunt, breasts and mouth could be approached by anyone yet I couldn't escape the confines of my cage. My cage was suspend in midair and it was moving.
And the reason it was moving was because Kim was hanging from it.
Her hands were tied to the bars that my legs were tied to and she was being whipped by all three priests.
Clearing my eyes I saw her. The needles were still in her breasts as the head priest whipped them. Another priest was whipping her stripped ass as the third used a switch on her twisting legs and feet. Then suddenly as if miraculously cured I heard her screams.
Kim must have been under the whips for quite some time as she was covered with their marks. But the occasional words that could be understood were still words of denial.
The gutsy bitch was having a, grand time as she twisted below me. All at the castle knew she could take literally hours of abuse and even more to her pain loving tits. And those tits were getting the pain. The head priest that was whipping her pin-filled tits was using a cat that made those needles move around like crazy.
I could smell her scent above my own, and I knew it well for many a times have I tasted it.
Kim's screams were beginning to dwindle when the priests set their instruments of torture aside and my cage was lowered until she could stand on the floor with her arms lowered to her sides.
As we were lowered she was placed to the rear of my cage and it stopped its descent when her face was in line with my ass.
"Service your mistress, slut. Wash the devil's shit out of her as we wash Satin's from you."
I turned my head as much as possible and saw the head priest sink his swollen shaft up Kim's willing ass as his hands twisted the needles in her beaten breasts.
But soon I had no other thoughts as Kim's very talented tongue began its entry into my own willing ass.
I shivered with her first touch and with the second I came. And so it went. Each priest washed away the devil's touch from her ass as she did the same to mine as we both came time after time.
When the last priest took his relief from Kim and she withdrew from me I finally looked around.
There were few spectators left in the chamber and I easily found my Master standing near my head. He was smiling.
Kim was taken to the side of the room and bound over a piece of equipment that looked something like a saw-horses. Her needles were removed. When they had finished with her, her ass and cunt were abundantly available.
Then my cage was lowered further until my openings were level with most people's crotches. As the priests left the chamber they told all that remained our bodies could be used for their own relief.
The priests would return in five hours to continue our interrogations.
My Master came to me then and removed the gag from my mouth.
"Chrissy, my love, you were unsurpassing."
His hands caressed the hair out of my face as I licked some moisture to my parched lips.
"Did ... I please ... you Master?"
"You pleased me very much, slave. For six hours you have pleased me with your servitude. And now I wish for you to serve my body"
"Please, Master. Please let me serve your body."
I could see his magnificent shaft as it pointed toward the ceiling. It was everything a slave could ask for-long, vein lined, thick and throbbing. I truly worshiped it.
"How would you like to serve me, slave?"
"In any way you desire, Master. I am your to command. My body will accept you anyway you wish it to."
"No. You must choose the way, slave. What is it to be?"
In all the years of our marriage my Master had never shown any preferences in relieving himself with me. I so wanted to pick his favorite but he had none that I was aware of.
So I chose the one that made me feel the most slavish-my ass.
He smiled at my choice as if I had chosen the one he desired. How like my Master to make me feel that way.
A moment later he had walked to the other end of my cage. I felt him grab a bar on either side of my hips and pull me towards him. I felt the velvet knob of his manroot kiss my eager astrict and I opened myself for my Master's love. Pulling my cage back more he sank in me.
My entire body trembled in need as he filled me to overflowing. And shamelessly I came. Over and over again as his masterpiece drilled me. I used all within my power to please his cock as it drove in and out of me until finally I felt the kiss of his masterful cream soothe my slavish needs.
My escalated screams of pleasure were cut short as my mouth became filled with another cock.
I had not noticed the presence of the man before but when I did I worshiped his cock too.
And that had no more than happened than I was aware of several more coming to me.
Two women drank from my bound tits and as my Master withdrew from my ass he was replaced by another cock up my seething cunt.
Hands were touching me all over. My mouth and cunt were filled. My breasts were giving drinks. I was totally consumed with pleasures.
Across the room Kim wasn't lacking attention either.
A huge brute of a man was straining over her hips, I didn't know if he was in her ass or cunt and somehow I knew that for Kim it made no difference.
A man and a woman were lying on the floor in front of her nursing her breasts with eager mouths as hers was paying homage to a well spread cunt in her mouth.
And so it went for the five hours that the priests rested. All who wanted Kim and me had us. Every opening we had was used over and over again and again to everyone's very satisfying conclusion. No overt damage was done to us, just mild torments that heightened everyone's pleasures.
Then the priests returned.
CHAPTER FIVE
We were in our private suite.
My Master had just finished whipping me and I was still hanging from the rings in the ceiling, his love juices leaking from my happy snatch when Nicole knocked on our door.
Asking who was there and receiving her answer, my Master told her to enter.
Nicole gave a quick, and envious, look at me before she spoke about her reason for coming.
"I was just taking to a Mr. Jered Kennedy, sir, and I didn't know how to answer him."
"What is the problem, Nicole?"
"Mr. Kennedy wishes to make reservations for himself and his two slaves, sir."
"So what is the problem?"
"He wants to rent out his slaves to the castle and partake of our staff himself. I told him that we didn't normally use others slaves at the castle but he insisted that I ask."
"According to him both slaves, females and attractive, are totally trained and will submit to anything. He even made a point of saying that they will submit to tit hangings, multiple piercings, burnings and all other major forms of torture."
"He even said that one of his slaves has submitted to having her tits cut through almost to the point of severing and is willing for it to occur again. And that comment reminded me of the request of Mr. Adam Hendricks that we have been unable to fulfill."
"Humm, I see your point. Did Mr. Kennedy make mention of financial considerations?"
"Not in so many words, sir. But I got the impression that money was not a major consideration. He sounded more interested in finding more inventive ways to keep his slaves happy."
"He said that he was running out of new ways to treat them and wanted to come to Chattel Castle for ideas. And his slaves made their wishes know that they would welcome attentions of others to please their master and to see if they could learn anything new in the process."
"Sounds interesting. Tell you what, Nicole, why don't you call Mr. Kennedy back and see if he has hard copy proof of what his slaves submit to. Photos or videos of their treatment and sustaining power".
"Explain that if we are satisfied with their endeavors we would be willing to pay him half of our usual fees for what his slaves submit to, but make a special point of including Mr. Hendricks -wishes that we have so far been unable to fulfill."
"Yes, sir."
As Nicole was turning to leave my Master stopped her as he said, "When you have concluded talking with Mr. Kennedy, please return Nicole."
"Yes, sir."
"And after that business is out of the way I'll want you to join Chrissy and me in a short session, if you are in agreement."
"Yesss, sir."
Nicole's eyes sparkled with that sentence as she made her exit.
All of the female slaves at Chattel Castle begged to be under my Master's care and Nicole had been once before and loved every second of it.
I was sure that her conversation with Mr. Kennedy would be as short as possible.
And I was correct.
Nicole returned in less than twenty minutes, all of which I had remained chained to the rings in the ceiling. Mr. Kennedy said that hard copy proof would be sent the following day by express mail.
That out of the way Nicole and I found ourselves bound together faces to dripping cunts as my Master made us totally happy.
Mr. Jered Kennedy and his two slaves, Amy and Ellen, arrived on the same flight that Mr. Adam Hendricks had taken. The four of them rode the limo to the castle and as they fell into conversation they realized that they would be seeing more of each other.
Mr. Kennedy had had ample hard copy proof of his slaves willingness to submit, including the one episode of Ellen's tits being almost severed, so we had few qualms about them joining our staff on a temporary basis.
After all, we had had a very frustrating time finding someone who would submit as Mr. Hendricks had asked. Most of our slaves will submit to many things being done to them but none were eager to have their tits literally split opened, but Ellen would. And she would with Mr. Hendricks.
As they had arrived late in the evening they were shown to their suites, changed into the historic costumes and donned yellow ribbons of observers.
I was in charge of their tour of the castle's facilities and got to watch their reactions first hand. There was no reasons; be believe that any would leave disappointed.
Five times during die tour they had copulated with each other when they had become stimulated and all were eager to participate more fully the following morning as their schedules had been planned.
Mr. Adam Hendricks' first appointment of his stay had him scheduled with my cousin Jenny who was still on the lookout for a husband.
They had been introduced at breakfast in the east dining room and both seemed comfortable with each other as they made their way to room nine of the second dungeon level for their two hour time slot.
Adam Hendricks was your basic average looking guy. He stood about five ten, had slightly thinning brown hair, brown eyes and was of medium build. And naturally being a client of Chattel Castle, he wasn't lacking in financial means to support his unusual sexual habits.
Jenny is five two, with long blond hair, green eyes and has all the right kind of curves, full breasts and gently padded hips with a slender waist.
They looked to be an ideal couple, and except for Mr. Hendricks desire to literally cut female flesh, they were well matched in their sexual wants.
Making their way to room nine Mr. Hendricks calmly asked Jenny to offer up her wrists for the bands and she just a calmly did.
Minutes later she was hanging from the bands as Adam selected a braided whip from the wall rack that held a varied assortment.
He glanced at the gold ribbon, and stated, Twenty-five. Fifteen to breasts and ten to back."
Jenny took a deep breath and to gold ribbon nodded her head.
Adam was in no hurry to reach the total of twenty-five.
At times several minutes lapsed before the braided whip landed again and the anticipation was driving Jenny wild. By the time she had received four on her every loving tits and two on her twitching back Jenny was begging him to do it faster.
"Why? Do you wish it to be over, or for it to continue?"
"Oohh God, both. I wanttt to feel it all ... not justt this teasing."
"Am I teasing you, Jenny?"
"Yesssss."
"But look what you have to look forward to."
"But IIII wanttt it nowww. Please, Adam."
"As you wish, my dear."
The remaining nineteen landed so swiftly Jenny couldn't even count them as her body more than eagerly registered the pain.
But as her body soaked up the pain she wanted more. She needed more. To come.
"Ppllllleeeassssssssssseee."
"Please what, Jenny," Adam asked as his eyes devoured her red streaked flesh that hung before his eyes.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Mmmmoooorrrrree ... pleassse Adam ... morrrre."
"More what?"
"Whippp mmmmee morrrre. Pleasssseeeeee."
Adam gave her more.
But to her utter frustrations he returned to his slow administrations.
The braided whip dug into her heaving breasts then he stopped to caress her swishing hair.
Another one to her right tit only, then he gently fondled her left one as she twisted and begged him for more.
But he denied her wishes.
Dropping the whip to the floor he took each of her knees in his hands and walked his cock to her spread cunt.
"Yeess ... fucck mmee ... fuck me hard and deeppp."
He heard her but denied her request.
He sank his bursting cock very slowly into her gasping tunnel until he was balls deep then withdrew even slower as Jenny wreathed before him and begged him to take her harshly.
But Adam Hendricks did it his own way.
Slowly.
Very slowly as Jenny wrapped her free legs around his waist and tried to pull him to her. Her strength was no match for his determination.
Slowly he pushed in her and slower still he withdrew as Jenny turned into a blithering idiot. She begged, she pleaded, she tried to pull him to her, tears streamed down her face in frustration, but Adam continued his slow steady pace for over twenty minutes.
Then finally his own needs made him do as she wanted and they soared to sexual bliss together.
When he withdrew and lowered Jenny to the floor he held her in his arms as they caressed and calmed each other.
"You must learn to appreciate the better things in life, Jenny. Learn to savor them slowly and to their fullest."
"If you had been free our time together would have been much less."
"But I didn't want to wait. I needed it then."
"But, Jenny, you must realize that men can only come so many times. Women are different. Some can come forever. But not the male of the species. So I have learned to lengthen my pleasures."
"Yes, I could have whipped you twenty-five times then fucked you within ten minutes, but think of how you felt. You were on the edge of coming for over thirty minutes. Thirty blissful minutes instead of one shattering moment that passed so swiftly."
"You must learn to savor life's pleasures to the fullest. Here, I'll show you again."
He took thirty minutes to tie Jenny for the next part.
Slowly he bound her ankles in restraints.
Slowly he attached those restraints to rings in the floor.
He caressed her tense body for ten minutes before he urged her over top of the board that would support her hips.
Then he teased her arms and hands for another five minutes before he bound her wrists to rings in the floor and pulled them tight, straining her body.
When he was done Jenny was bound over the board, her feet and hands tied to rings in the floor, her legs, ass and cunt spread wide for his attentions.
He picked up the cat, caressed her straining whipped back, and said, "Think of your pleasures, Jenny. Feel your body craving for release. Savor your heightened arousal. Take yourself to the edge of fulfillment and as you hang on that edge feel your pleasures."
"Feel them, but don't allow them to come. Wallow in your striving, for when it's over, it's over and there is nothing to look forward to. But if you savor the wanting it can last for hours."
"Savor it Jenny. Savor."
And savor Jenny did.
She had no choice in the matter as Adam took forty five minutes to whip her ass twenty-five times.
She was going insane with want. She would feel herself cresting and Adam would stop. She cried.
She begged. She pleaded. And she waited.
Finally he entered her demanding ass, but he gave her no relief as he slide in and out just as slowly as he had her cunt earlier.
"Savor, Jenny. Anticipate how greattt it will feelll when youuu finally come shattering over the precipice."
And that was precisely what was driving Jenny insane-the anticipation.
She had never been on the brink for so long.
Her moans, begging and pleadings were like a two year old with her first spanking. She literally ached with her need to find fulfillment but Adam kept her at the brink and refused to let her crash over until he could no longer deny them and he pounded into her like a demon possessed and their screams of release echoed throughout the dungeons and they clasped, totally drained.
A half an hour after Jenny was released she was prostrate on the floor begging my Master to schedule her with Adam Hendricks for all he had contracted for at Chattel Castle.
He showed Jenny Adam's request form, including his desire to split a slave's breasts with a knife, and still she begged to be his for whatever he wanted.
After conferring with Mr. Hendricks, his schedule was changed to having only my cousin Jenny serve him for his entire stay at the castle.
Jenny kissed my Master's feet and ran to Nicole and Denise to verify the reservations for Adam Hendricks.
Jenny spent the entire week of Adam's stay with him.
He had whipped her, burnt her, hung her by her tits for over an hour.
He had placed so many needles in her that she called herself his personal pincushion.
By Tuesday Jenny would have begged Adam to kill her, if it did it slowly enough.
But Adam had no desire to kill Jenny.
Bring her to the brink of death maybe, but not kill her.
Thursday was his last day at Chattel Castle and true to his motto of doing things slowly it was the day for him to cut Jenny's breasts.
Many, including Dr. Hubbard, were present. It was also decided that the session would be filmed on videotape.
For no apparent reason, Adam requested the American Indian room for his final session at Chattel Castle and it was granted.
The room, filled with spectators, teepees, victim posts, roaring fires, and implements of torture was filled by noon.
Few at Chattel Castle had ever seen a slave submit to having her tits cut in half, including myself and my Master.
It was a major attraction.
The spectators made way for Adam and Jenny as they entered the room.
It was easy to see that Jenny was far from unharmed as she calmly knelt on the dirt floor in front of the block of wood that would serve as her cutting board.
Adam was true to form.
It took him over a half an hour to bind Jenny to the block.
When he was done Jenny's chest was tied to the twelve by twelve inch, four foot long block of wood that rested on posts sunk into the ground. Her hair had been pulled into a pony tail with a length of rawhide and the other end bound her wrists to her hair.
Her neck was arched way back, her hands almost touching the back of her head.
Her knees were tied to the posts that entered the ground pulling her legs far apart and leaving her cunt exposed for all to see.
Adam took over an hour to whip her already whipped tits fifty times.
Many of the observers were getting restless.
Jenny was again hovering on the brink of fulfillment and begging for release and there wasn't a flaccid cock in attendance as he took up the knife for the first time since entering.
Jenny was bound so stringently that all she could move was the pony tail that hung down her back.
She could tense and untense the muscles underlying her tits but she couldn't move them a fraction of an inch otherwise.
"Look at it Jenny."
Adam held the razor sharp knife over her head so she could see it.
The blade was twelve inches long. It was three inches wide at the hilt and tapered to a point as slender as a needle at the tip.
The surrounding lights and fires made if flash. Turning the knife so the reflected light blinded Jenny's eyes, Adam continued.
"Can you imagine it cutting into your perfect breasts? Can you feel it cutting you open? Can you feel your breasts opened like a side of beef?"
"Feel it Jenny. Anticipate. Savor."
If it wasn't for Jenny's screams you could have heard a pin drop as Adam made the first incision in her left breast where breast was attached to the chest wall.
It took him over five minutes to cut his way to her nipple.
He then did the same to her other breast. Taking just as long.
A red blood line decorated each breast as he returned to her left tit to make his cut deeper.
Jenny was out of her mind as she begged hm to do it even slower.
When he was finished with the second cut on each breast everyone could see Jenny's nipples lying open on the block of wood and two inches inside her flesh.
By the third cut only about an inch of Jenny's breasts remained uncut from chest to nipples, the inch that rested on the block.
Many people left the room to seek out a place to get sick as Adam pulled apart her breasts and thoroughly inspected them from inside out.
Removing his hands from her breasts Adam used one finger to touch her clit. His finger had no more than made contact than everyone knew she was having a mind shattering climax.
As soon as she started to come Adam called Dr. Hubbard forward to close up what he had just opened.
And believe it or not, Jenny continued to come the entire time it took Dr. Hubbard to clean and sew her closed.
Before Dr. Hubbard finished with his task you literally could not escape the room because of the mass orgy that was process.
The last to find sexual relief was Adam, for he had waited until the doctor was done and Jenny released before he eased his cock into her mouth.
Jenny had learned her lesson well.
It took her over a half and hours to make him come.
When Adam finally had his own release the room was empty.
Dr. Hubbard gave Jenny some antibiotics and Adam carried her to her room where they spent the remainder of the day.
It was a surprise to few that Jenny accompanied Adam when he left Chattel Castle.
Two months later we attended their wedding in Vermont. Jenny's unhealed breasts displayed by her low cut wedding gown. Family and guest thought nothing of her condition, after all she was a Smyth.
CHAPTER SIX
Being a pain lover I had few questions as to the popularity of B&D and S&M, but when my master insisted that animals be available at Chattel Castle I had my doubts about the expenses involved in keeping them for I didn't know of the demand for human-animal relations.
I soon learned that they more than paid for their keep. Few days have gone by at the castle when animals are not used and never has a week gone by.
My first encounter came about by a request by a Mr. Terrance Wakefield, an innovator in the auto industry.
He stated in his request form that he was always surrounded my machinery and wanted to get a more personal look at humans and their relationship with animals.
In point of fact, he was willing to pay to force a human female to copulate with a stallion.
And because of my master's foresight Mr. Wakefield was able to choose from several willing slaves when he arrived.
He made an excellent choice in picking Lynn, who worked part time as a dairy maid at the castle.
Marcus, the stallion, had been trained long before his arrival to fuck women, in fact he had been taught a unique technique so a platform wasn't needed to protect the woman.
The morning after his arrival at the castle I was assigned to accompany Mr. Wakefield as his personal gold ribbon.
To a casual observer we appeared to be faking an ambling stroll, but in fact our destination was the livestock area that was to the south side of the inner courtyard.
Lynn had been assigned to milk the cows that morning and she knew the part she was to play.
Getting into the spirit of the castle, Mr. Wakefield asked, "Are you having any labor problems with the serfs in this area?"
"No, none at all. As you can see our serfs are well taken care of here in the domain. They have ample food and can trade for other items with their surplus.
"Over here you can see our dairy farm. Master Thomas is a marvel at training our serfs and we produce the finest cheeses in the country. See over there," pointing to Lynn who was in the process of milking a cow, "how well trained our serfs are. Our animals are well treated and give good quality products."
"Care to watch Lynn as she takes the milk to the churning room and see how our milk and cheeses are made?"
"Yes, that would be very helpful. As you know I am in the process of acquiring a dairy herd too. I would appreciate observing how yours is run. Shall we?"
I'm sure Lynn saw us but she gave no indication of seeing us as she took her wooden bucket of fresh milk to the churning room.
We followed her.
There were seven girls in attendance, each processing the incoming milk, three including Lynn were wearing red ribbons.
Some were making cream, others butter, but most were working on making cheese which we actually did produce.
Lynn emptied her bucket in a collecting vat then made her way to a prepared butter churn and began thumping the plunger up and down, thereby drawing attention to low cut bodice and her swaying bosom.
Mr. Wakefield noticed her displayed breasts but maintained his play-acting as I continued to discuss our processes.
The churning room is made of thick stone that keeps the interior cool, but you would never had guessed it as Lynn made every pretense of sweating so much with her labors that she continually had to wipe the perspiration from her bobbing tits.
Mr. Wakefield was slowly ignoring me and when Lynn managed to expose a breast by her continual wiping, he no longer heard a word I said and I stopped my efforts.
Lynn proceeded to act as if she was entirely alone in the building as a scant few minutes later her other breast became free also.
Mr. Wakefield's attention didn't falter from her swaying, bouncing tits until the enterprising Lynn took things a step farther.
Her hands no longer brought the plunger up and down.
Instead she began to caress it like she would a very pleasing cock.
His eyes followed her every movement.
Still pretending she was alone Lynn stood up, tucked her long skirt into her waist band and straddled the upright plunger and lowered her pussy to it.
Then she again began to churn the butter along with churning herself. The swish-thunk of the rising and falling plunger had Mr. Wakefield's cock standing at attention.
Up and down the handle went. Up to Lynn's churning cunt, down to churn the butter.
Her freely bobbing tits was a masterpiece of arousal as Mr. Wakefield approached her and asked, "Gould you use some assistance?"
Lynn smiled, took his hand and placed it on the wooden plunger as her hands began to remold her upstanding, bobbing breasts.
He kept the same rhythm on the handle that she had used until her moans egged him to faster efforts.
Soon a good eight inches of the handle was entering her as his hand pounded into her cunt as his arm moved faster and faster. And then it happened.
Lynn came and screamed at him to enter her even more.
He complied and before Lynn shuttered to a halt twelve inches of the handle was deeply buried within her seething tunnel.
Slamming the plunger into the churn Mr. Wakefield grabbed Lynn around the waist and flung her to the floor and covered her, his cock leading the way.
Five minutes later he was lying beside her trying to catch his breath as Lynn berated him for coming to fast and lacking the length and breathe to satisfy her.
Naturally the bitch was lying because I know of a fact that she had come an additional two times, but it was all part of the game.
Leaning on an elbow beside her, Mr. Wakefield asked, "Are you saying that I am inadequate?"
"Well, now don't get me wrong, sit It's just that I'm use to men of larger proportions."
"You've nothing to be ashamed of, but being around the animals and robust men as much as I am, I'm use to larger cocks filling my cave."
"Oh? And if I could get you a larger, cock, what would you say?"
"Why, I'd said thank you, of course. But how can you get a larger cock? To my knowledge men come only blessed with one."
"Well just come with me little lady and I'll show you a cock that will make your cave seem small. Interested?"
"Interested? You just lead the way, sir."
Lynn offered him her hand and they walked out of the churning shed.
Somehow Lynn forgot to lower her skirt or to cover her swaying breasts as we made our way to the stables.
Several people stared and a few followed us.
Entering the stables, Mr. Wakefield said, "there is one stipulation that you must agree to before I bring in your large cock."
"Oh? And what is that?"
"I insist that you be bound first. I have offered this cock before and when the wenches saw it they ran."
"The choice is yours. Let me tie you up or you don't get to even see the huge cock. What will it be?"
"Well aren't you the sly one? How am I to know that you'll keep your word if n I allow myself to be tied?"
"You don't. Except for my word that I'll produce the largest cock you have ever seen or dreamed about filling your cunt. So?"
"Oh, all right. What am I to do?"
"Just take your clothes off and stand still while I tie you."
"You promise that this cock of yours will fill me full?"
"If it doesn't, you can't be filled." He gave her an easy smile and Lynn began to undress.
A moment later he was wrapping her in rope.
He started by tying her wrists, looping the other ends of the rope in rings that were embedded in posts that supported the roof of the stable.
Then two more ropes were secured to her ankles.
He told her to lay down on the ground and when she did he called two stable boys over to hold her in the air. At which point Lynn began to protest, but it did her no good and soon she was tied by her wrists and ankle several feet above the straw covered stable floor.
Her warm body was hanging from four posts sunk into the ground that supported the roof of the stable.
She could be accessed from all directions.
A crowd had gathered by the opening of the stable and several had entered and were sitting on available bales of hay and straw.
"Hey, now wait a minute. I've changed me mind. You can just keep this mysterious huge cock and let me go."
"Too bad. I haven't changed my mind."
Turning to the stable master, he said, "Please bring Marcus out. He has another filly for stud."
Lynn, ever the actress, began bewailing her fate and calling him every know name that had ever been invented as an insult.
She twisted her body as much as her bonds would allow, and if I hadn't know her, I would have sworn that she was truly terrified when Marcus was brought in and led between the posts that held her legs up and widely spread.
Marcus' handler brought the huge black stallion between her legs.
"There you go Marcus, another fine filly for you to mount. Wanna take a whiff of her scent, oh boy?"
Thus say he urged Marcus' flaring nose to Lynn's leaking pussy.
Marcus was more than interested in her scent as his huge tongue gave it a long slurpy lick that sent Lynn crashing into orgasm.
"Get that dammmmnnned beast away from me you bastard. Get him away."
"But my dear, he is the owner of the cock I promised you. Can you see it? Marcus finds you very appealing."
"Look, you can see him growing by the second. In a moment his long, wide, slick cock will drop into view. Can't you just feel it growing to enter you cave? Your cave that needs to be filled so badly."
"Look at it, it's starting to drop. He likes your scent. It's making him grow to large proportions."
And sure enough it was.
Marcus took two more healthy licks of Lynn's pulsating pussy and his stallion club was leaving its sheath and straining toward the floor.
Six, ten, then twelve inches slid out of his horsely pouch.
The lights played on the wet sheen as it grew some more as his whinny of excitement could be heard around the castle grounds, as Lynn continued her mock struggle to be free.
"Ye be ready for her, Marcus? Atta boy. Come on and you can have her. Forward boy. That's it. Now UP. UP MARCUS."
All watched in amazement as Marcus did just that.
His forelegs waved in the air. His crushing hooves waving above the now still Lynn.
When ordered to step the black stallion had indeed stepped. With his back legs.
Like a trick dog walking on his hind legs Marcus walked forward, his forelegs still waving in the air above Lynn.
One, two, four, then five steps he took. His trainer judged him in place and ordered him to come down.
Marcus brought his front legs down right between Lynn's wide spread, tied arms.
Lynn looked up and could only see the under belly of the stallion that was standing over her.
She didn't move a muscle. It seemed she didn't even breath.
"Atta boy. Ye want the bitch don't ya? Yea, I can tell ye do. So what you a waitin' for? Bring that horse dick ov'n you up and take her. That's it. Plug her good and proper. Atta boy."
His long, twitching, lubricated dick rose to the occasion as it sought out what his tongue had just licked.
"Atta boy."
His handler gave his mighty cock a slight nudge and the end of Marcus' cock found what it was seeking-Lynn's flowing cunt.
The slightly slender head began its entry. . "Oohhh my Goddd ... that- damned beasst is entering me ... aaahhh Godddd ... make him stoppp ... he tooo bigg ... ahhhhh nnoooo ... aahhhhh nnooo ... he'sssss ripping me apart."
In fact it felt like heaven.
But Lynn couldn't say that.
As Marcus' shinny dick eased into Lynn's even more wet pussy, there was absolutely no resistance at all.
Lynn had one of those cunts that was tighter than hell no matter the size of what entered it.
She could take a finger and make it extremely happy or she could stretch to Marcus and more. I had seen her take two fists up her cunt at the same time and five minutes after they were removed make a man with a five incher feel like he was fucking a thin necked bottle.
She shook her tits and brought her nipples back and forth across the velvety hairs of Marcus' barrel chest as she tipped her cunt up for further penetration.
Her audience watched, as inch after inch of Marcus entered her gasping pussy.
The red head was totally within her.
Soon more followed as he whinnied out his lust.
Eight. Ten. Twelve inches of red slid in. Fourteen, then he was totally within her.
It must have felt like a man had shoved his whole fist and arm up her.
But did Lynn object?
Well, yes. But only to maintain the illusion of being forced.
She was loving every damned second and every damned inch. Her words were of protest but her motions were of woman in heat.
I was amazed at the amount of thrusting she managed in her bound position. But lunge toward the cock that was spearing her she did.
Her tits flipped back and forth as she stimulated them on his satin hairs.
And then Marcus became a true stallion.
He was in the bitch below him and he was now ready to take her as his animal instincts demanded.
His huge, silky muscles rippled as he started to withdraw.
Out. Out. Out some more then he slammed back in and I'm not real sure if Lynn's screams were of fake pain or not.
Then Marcus found his stride. Faster and faster his monstrous dick slammed in and out of her and no one had any doubts any more.
Lynn was screaming in avid pleasures.
Marcus sounded like he was screaming too as his feet moved with his every thrust. His hips curled forward and he was out of control.
His only goal was to dump his seed in the warm cavern that he was in.
Lynn wasn't objecting either as he began to swell.
And then it happened. His giant fire hose was spraying her with enough pressure to put out a fire. He shivered. He shook and he pumped in some more.
His horsey cream couldn't be held as it squirted out of her coming cunt as fast as he pumped it in.
Marcus and Lynn seemed to freeze. Only muscles under their skin moved as a steady plop, plop of cream landed on the straw beneath them.
Then finally Lynn jerked.
We all watched as Marcus began to shrink and slide out.
"Nnooooooo. Don't go. Fuck me. Fuck me."
Marcus shook his head as if in denial and his diminished dick hung in the air for a moment before it retreated to its satin sheath and he gave a mighty whinny.
"Atta good boy, Marcus. Ye filled her good and proper ye did. Just take a sec to catch your breath. Atta boy. All right back up a bit. That's it. A bit more."
"Now, Marcus, UP. Up boy. That's it. Now back. BACK. Good boy. Down Marcus. Atta boy. Come on boy, you desire a hearty meal after that. Come on boy. Atta boy. Let's go."
The trainer lead the satisfied stallion out from between the posts and headed him toward his stall.
"Well, was that cock big enough for you, bitch?" Mr. Wakefield asked as he stood to her side and began to smear Marcus' juices over her still twitching cunt and mound.
"Or was it too big? Ready to settle for my smaller cock now. Or are you so stretched that a sword could be shoved up you without even touching your damned cave walls?"
"Fuck mmee ... pleassse oh God ... fuccckkk meeee."
"I'd get lost in there."
"Pleassssee ... fuccckkk mmmeee."
"Aaahh ssshitt. Why not?"
Mr. Wakefield walked between her legs and his very stiff cock played with the deposited cream between Lynn's legs.
"Pleassssee ... fuccckkk mmmeee noowwww."
Mr. Wakefield could see her clit still twitching up and down with delight as he slid his cock into the come soaked pussy.
"Damn. You're tight."
He slammed in and few had any doubts that Lynn's slick walls were anything but tight. "You gottt a drawstring on thattt cunt ooooffff yourssss? Damnnn ... aahhhh yea squeezzzee mmmeee ... aaaahhhh ssshittt."
Unfortunately Mr. Wakefield didn't last all that long and Lynn was anything but satisfied or wanting to stop.
But that matter was solved as three men lined up between her legs to see to her needs.
When she was finally released she was very content. Sore, but pleased as she took the rest of the day off to relax.
That evening I saw her take on six more men as they cavorted in the hay strewn floor of the stable when I went to check on another matter.
Lynn had a secured future here at Chattel Castle.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I gave scant attention to the preparations of Ali Haffett's arrival.
We had had visiting Arabs before, even ones that were high ranking political figures.
But Kim couldn't seem to talk about anyone else. It was Ali this and Ali that. It soon became obvious that the man fascinated her, so I began to listen more closely to her frequent praises.
Ali Haffett had become prominent during his country's bid to enter the twenty century. He was well educated, attractive, a force to be reckoned with, not only in his country but in the Middle East and according to Kim, even in America. And a reputed sports enthusiast.
The more I heard about him, the more confused I became.
Evidently he was noted as a peacemaker in politics. But his personal life was an entirely different matter.
It was reported that he kept a bevy of harem girls and reputedly kept all of them not only in constant pain, but also sexually satisfied.
That was what interested Kim the most. His sexual prowess. And his much talked about fourteen inch cock.
From the moment that his reservation arrived, Kim wanted him. She willingly took on assignments to earn being assigned to Ali when he arrive.
She was successful.
Ali Haffett arrived on schedule and Kim was awaiting him in his room as requested.
The six foot two, slender black man did not have to strain himself to see Kim upon entering his room.
She was tied to his door.
Kim's arms were tied behind her back, the rope to her hands tied to the doorknob.
But the reason he couldn't miss her was the fact that she was literally hanging over the door.
Her arms were on one side of the door and her body on the other, forcing her bent back arms that were resting on the top of the door to support her entire weight.
Which, by no lack of foresight, left her cunt at exactly the correct height for Ali's mouth. And he didn't have to search for her cunt either. It was widely spread by the simple addition of a spreader bar attached to her ankles.
Letting his escort deposit his luggage were he so desired, Ali approached the strung up Kim.
"Good evening, my dear," came out of his smiling lips as he ever so casually inspected his hung trophy.
With one very long slender finger, he probed her opened offering. "How are you today?"
"I'm ... I'm ahh fine, sir. And you?"
"I couldn't be better. So tell me," as he calmly leaned against the door frame, "how do like your position? Do you find it interesting?"
"I ... ah find it very ... ahh stimulating."
"Are you a true pain lover?"
Before Kim could answer, Mr. Haffett curled his fingers together and suddenly his entire hand was up her cunt pressing into her cervix.
"Aahhhhaaa ... yessssss."
"How delightful and how about this?"
Kim didn't know what this was, but she had no trouble registering the sudden pain that enveloped her left tit.
Eyes totally unfocused, her throat suddenly sore from the sheer volume of her scream, Kim tired to lower her head to see what had just been done to her.
A trap.
A metal, spring loaded animal trap had just been violently closed around her left tit.
A steady stream of milk was flowing from her left tit as she watched in total amazement as he proceeded to trap the right one too.
That time Kim saw it happen.
The opened trap came to her tit, held by his one hand, the other was still up her cunt.
Her nipple triggered the pad in the center. Both metal jaws dug into her tit. One clamping on the top, the other pressing up from the bottom.
It snapped shut.
Kim screamed and both breasts were squirting jets of milk into the smiling face of Ali Haffett.
He licked it off like it was the most delectable drink in existence.
"You didn't answer my question. Do you like the traps? Do they cause you enough pain?"
"Yyeessss ... I ahhh like themmm."
"Excellent. And this too?"
His hand and wrist pressed up. Firmly. Enough that he was supporting part of her weight with his hand in her cunt.
"Yyeesss ... I doooo."
"Excellent. Excellent."
And with those words, he withdrew his hand, wiped her milk off his face with a handkerchief, and finally walked into his room, leaving Kim atop the door with traps on her pain loving tits.
Within the first two minutes of meeting Ali Haffett, Kim knew what she wanted.
Him.
As she allowed the pain in her breasts to sink into her she had no problem remembering the massive lump that had formed in his slacks when she had watched him attach the second trap to her.
The stories she had heard were correct. He was massive. And within his five day stay she would have ample time to verify for herself his stamina.
After removing his jacket, tie and shirt, Mr. Haffett returned to his captive.
"What is your opinion of sports? Do you enjoy them?"
"Ssssppoortts?"
"Yes. Sports. I am fascinated by them. Or to be more correct, by the equipment involved in various sports. Like the animal traps on your breasts."
"Many people consider hunting to be a sport. They casually set out traps like these to capture unsuspecting animals. But I don't like to prey on unthinking animals. I prefer humans to sport with."
"Would you care to join me in my sporting?"
"Yyeess ... I'll dooo anything you want."
"How generous of you. You don't even know what I want, but you are willing to do what I want. How generous indeed. Perhaps I should tell you about my interests in sports."
"Several interest me. Hunting, which you've seen. Baseball. Football. Shot-put is fascinating. And of course there is riding, rowing, canoeing, archery, and weight lifting. I even enjoy darts on occasion. Still interested in joining me in my sporting endeavors?"
Kim wasn't sure if she understood all that he was implying, but if hunting meant traps on her tits, what would the others entail? Riding could mean a crop. Rowing and canoeing could be paddles. But what about the others? Only one way to find out.
"Yyesss ... I'm aahhh still interested."
"Excellent. I enjoy people who are willing to give things a sporting chance. How about we start with weight lifting? It's an ancient sporting activity, after all even the Romans used weights to strengthen the Gladiators of old. Ready to try the sport of weight lifting?"
Having a good idea of what weight lifting entailed, Kim was more than eager to start.
"Yyessss."
"Excellent. But first we have to set the hunting aside." Thus saying, he removed the traps from her breasts.
The impetuous rush of blood back to her breasts caused Kim to scream in agony. But neither of them missed her other reaction.
A dripping cunt that just happened to be in the midst of an extremely satisfying climax.
Allowing Kim a few moments to compose herself, Ali then released her.
Ten minutes later they were in room ten, dungeon level two that had been reserved for them.
"To get you warmed up for the weight lifting, I think you should start with some deep knee bends, don't you?"
Deep knee bends? Why not, she thought as she stood in the middle of the room and began to do them.
"No, no. Not like that. Spread your legs and bend. Yes, that's it. Spread them wide. Get your ass as far down to the floor as possible. Excellent. Keep doing them while I prepare your weights."
Kim did deep knee bends with her legs widely-spread, as out of the corner of her eyes she watched him pursue the contents of the room.
Up and down she went. Her ebony body began to shimmer with a coating of sweat.
"You may rest while we try these weights."
He held two ten pound weights in his hand, each was connected to a chain. Chains that could be used to pull a car. Each link was three inches long, one inch wide and weighed a half a pound each.
Ten links per chain, ten pound weights at the end of each, made a total of fifteen pounds.
Kim reached out her hands to take the weights.
"How generous. You want to hold them while I attach them. By all means, hold them for me. It will make it easier if my hands are free."
Beginning to suspect that more was involved, Kim held the two ten pound weights in her hands.
Mr. Haffett connected the end of the chain to her right nipple ring.
The weights trembled in her hands as the other chain was clipped to her left nipple ring.
There was no more suspicions as to what was going to support the weights in her hands when she began her weight lifting.
Fifteen pounds of weigh would hang from each nipple. Her pain loving body had the audacity to quiver in anticipation.
"I'll take them now."
Kim's nervous hands transferred the weights to All's hands as she tried to prepare herself for what was to happen.
She didn't succeed.
Ali dropped the weights.
Kim's tits headed for the floor.
She screamed as the pain ripped through her nipples and breasts.
Her nipples started to tear but when she reached her hands toward the weights they were stopped.
"Oh, no. That's not giving the game a sporting chance."
And before she knew what was happening, her wrists were cuffed, a clip attached and her arms were heading toward the ceiling via another chain.
As her arms headed up more strain was placed on her weighted breasts and she screamed.
"Nnnooooo ... Godddd nooooo."
Mr. Haffett saw her nipple starting to tear. Saw her entire body shake with pain and was quick to ask, "Are you begging for mercy?" He knew the rules and had no intention of being expelled.
"Nnnooooo ... ooohhh nnnnoooo."
A quick glance at the gold ribbon guard who shrugged his shoulders was all the remaining confirmation Ali needed.
He smiled. His money would be well spent.
"Then perhaps we should increase your weight lifting, hum?"
"Yyyeeesss ... aaahhhh anything."
Kim was too caught up in the pain that she loved to deny him or herself more pleasure. A ton sounded fine just then.
Mr. Haffett wasn't thinking in terms of tons, but pounds was another matter entirely.
He walked over to the collection of weights on a nearby bench and selected some more.
Two five pound weights. And five pounds of attaching chains.
"How about your cunt rings doing some weight lifting?"
"It will be my pleasure, my dear. My pleasure. But first the weights."
Clipping one chain to her right cunt lip, he gently lowered it until her ring accepted it.
Kim screamed.
Kim came.
He attached the other chain and weight. Kim came again.
Stripping off his slacks, he asked, "Cunt or ass?"
"IIIII donnn't ... care. Just fuckkkk me. Please fuckkkk me nowww."
He close her ass.
After all, he didn't want to get hit by the swinging weights.
Her one glimpse of his cock was all she needed. For that cock he could hang from her cunt rings if he wanted.
It was huge. And it was all hers.
The fat knob ironed out all the wrinkles of her asshole.
It sank in. And Kim went bonkers.
His cock filled her like she had never been filled before. Long. Wide. Firm. It was an instrument of total sexual pleasure.
He slammed in. He jerked out. The weights bobbed. They slammed together. They pulled her tits and cunt. And with the combination of weights and cock, she came.
Not once. Not twice. But continuously.
His hand found her pulsating clit. He massaged it. She came some more.
Then he came. Fourteen inches up her ass.
He flooded her. And she came some more.
He withdrew and was ready for some sport.
Removing the weights and chains, he set them aside and picked up the paddle and oar.
"Now to combine rowing and canoeing."
Walking to the front of her, he asked, "Which one where," as he held up the canoe paddle and the rowing oar.
"Which one to breast? The other is for your ass."
Kim had had a variety of weapons used on her body. But to her knowledge, never had she had a canoe paddle nor a rowing oar used on her. Which would be best where?
"Paddle ... my breaassts."
"As you wish."
Thus saying he motioned the gold ribbon man over. Handed him the oar then, took a good grip on the paddle.
The sound of the paddle slamming into her breasts was enough to make Kim shake with desire. But there was more than the sound.
There was the pain too.
The eighteen inch wide blade smashed her tits flat against her chest. They instantly registered the pain.
And as she was screaming out in that pain, Ali switched weapons with the gold ribbon, and the oar landed on her ass.
Paddle to her breasts.
Oar to her ass.
Back and forth they landed with Kim trapped between. And loving every blow landed.
Her tits that craved pain so much were at their limit. And still she came with each blow.
Her ass felt like it was on fire. And she came with those blows too.
Paddle tits. The oar to her ass. Over and over. They landed. She came. Twenty.
By twenty-five he stopped, set the paddle and oar aside and took up two iron weights the size of baseballs.
Baseball hadn't been invented by the time period of the Castle, but cannons had. So instead of baseball he used cannon balls for his sport.
"Now for a little backyard baseball."
Kim didn't have much of an opportunity to contemplate his words before he was shoving the iron cannon ball up her recently fuck ass.
He shoved.
She stretched.
He shoved some more and she opened.
Her ass was the proud possessor of a cannon ball.
But Ali Haffett was far from through.
That cannon ball was attached by chain to another.
It found the same home.
So did the third ball.
The three balls and chains up her ass made his cock seem tiny by comparison. Her ass was more than full. It was almost tearing.
Never had she felt so much pain.
But he wasn't through yet.
Picking up the other chains and weights, he again attached them to her nipple and cunt rings.
Twenty pounds of metal in her ass. Fifteen hanging from each tit. Ten from each cunt lip.
Forty-five pounds of weights and she couldn't stop coming.
Then it was riding time.
Ali whipped her weighted tits with the crop.
He whipped her stuffed and oar paddled ass.
He whipped her weighted cunt.
The crop landed. And landed.
Kim came and came.
Her world was pain.
Her world was a totally paradise of pain loving sexual bliss. Never had she been so totally filled, filled with pain and pleasure.
But in that she was wrong.
His cock was filling her cramped cunt.
The weights moved with each of his movements. And he was anything but motionless.
Seeking a way to show him her gratitude, she found his mouth.
It was a total kiss. A kiss to total surrender.
If, at that moment he decided to kill her, she would have been content to let him.
Tongues intertwined.
Cock and cunt were one.
Ali and Kim were one. They knew the other's needs and provided more than was required.
Knowing that she could take even more, he told the gold ribbon to whip her.
The whip landed on her stuffed ass. His cock filled her cunt. The weights pulled her this way and that.
And as she felt the kiss of his come bathing her cervix the weights were jerked from her ass. The ultimate climax filled her. Then her world turned gray. Then black.
When she came to she found herself in Mr. Haffett's room.
An immediate inventory told her the story. There wasn't a spot on her, or in her, that didn't hurt.
A moan and she curled into his warmth and went to sleep.
When next she awoke it was morning and she was delightfully filled.
Ali was buried deep within her cunt. His cock head jabbing into her womb entrance.
It filled her, rammed her, and threatened to rip her apart, like cheap cloth.
The sensation was almost too intense to bear ... except she had no choice, and so she endured it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Castle was well established and running smoothly when Mr. Jeremy Cotheran made his reservations. Devoting his adult life to the legal system, Mr. Cotheran had a fantasy centering around the court systems, specifically those of olden times.
He wanted to be a judge in Merry Old England during the sixteenth or seventeenth century when they were all powerful. And feared.
Being assigned his escort, I was able to observe his "first day at the Castle.
Arriving on time, I escorted him to his suite, explained how the Castle was run, allowed him time to change into costume, then escorted him to room two, level one of the dungeon.
The interrogation room contained a bar enclosed cell that was filled with whimpering convicts'. Matted straw filled mattresses, wooden cots and a slop bucket made-up the furnishings. Along With the five victims.
"Your ship leaves for the colonies tomorrow at dawn but I have decided that one of you will remain here in England. With me. Anyone interested in staying?"
All five clamored to be chosen. Arms reached out between the bars begging to be chosen, not wanted to go to the barbaric colonies where savages did unspeakable things to people.
"Quiet. That's better. As I said, only one of you will be allowed to remain with me. But she must be willing to pay to remain. To pay with her body."
Almost instantly the four women began to disrobe. Tits were bared in record time. Asses and cunts came into view. All except for one vied for his attention. .
Spying the red head cowering in the back corner, judge Cotheran beckoned her forward. "Do you wish to go to the colonies?"
"Nay your lordship."
"Then why aren't you trying to please me?"
"Ye don't want her governor. The guards have had their sport with her and she ain't quite sane anymore. Beat her to a bloody pulp they did. You ain't wantin' the likes of her. She's grown to like the switch, ifn' you know what I mean."
Ignoring the woman who had spoken to him Judge Cotheran again turned his attention back to the red head. "Is that true?"
"I ... aye your lordship. 'Tis true."
Unlocking the door Mr. Cotheran held out his hand and Kathy accepted it and stepped out of the cell.
"Remove your dress."
Kathy was in her element now. Play acting and submitting were second nature to her. She had applied for Mr. Cotheran when his request came in.
Acting like the demure, hesitate, confused victim, she slide the sleeve of her tattered dress off her shoulder.
I had to smile myself when I saw the twinkle in her eyes as her whipped breasts came into view. Mr. Cotheran didn't miss them either.
"Why were you beaten?"
"Because the guards wanted to beat me ... and because they knew that I ... liked it too, m'lord."
Mr. Cotheran cleared his throat and tried to get back into his role. "Why are you being deported?"
They say L. killed a man. But I didn't, m'lord. He just up and died in me arms."
"And why was he in your arms?"
"We ahh we was a havin' a good time, ifn' you know what I mean."
"You were fucking him? Is that it?"
"Aye. We were. And he just up and died. They didn't believe me when I told them that. They only saw me beaten body and thought I did him in to get away."
"He had beaten you? It didn't start here with the guards?"
"Aye he did. Me mam had given me to him for a shilling, like she had others. He thrashed me with a whip, he did. Then had his fun and died."
"But the beating wasn't against your will?"
"No it weren't. Like she said" nodding toward the woman who had spoken earlier, "I like it, m'lord."
"Did he tie you up?"
"Oh, no, m'lord. There weren't no reason to do that. I hold still for my beatins, I do. My mam taught me right, she did."
"You mean to tell me that you stand still while being beaten?"
"Ifn' they want me to, I do. Or knee, or lay down, or whatever they want me to do."
"I don't believe you. No one can do that."
"But I can, m'lord. I can prove it ya, ifn' you want."
"I do want. Stand there. Place your hands on your head and don't move while I whip you."
"Aye, m'lord."
I don't know if Mr. Cotheran noticed her smile or not, but I did. Kathy was a unique gal at the Castle. Yes, she liked the pain. But for some reason she didn't like to be bound in any fashion. Refused to be in fact. And many found her fascinating. Including Mr. Cotheran who didn't like to bind his victims either which created some difficulties for him. Many could withstand the pain he inflicted, but not without being restrained while doing so.
Which is the reason Kathy and Mr. Cotheran had been paired up in the first place.
I wasn't the least bit surprised when Kathy did as ordered.
She stood straight before him, raised her hands to her head, spread her legs for balance and waited for him to begin.
A moment later he did.
Taking up the nine stranded cat that had been hanging on the wall, Mr. Cotheran straightened the strands and brought it back. Then forward.
All nine strands landed on her thrusted forward, all ready whipped, breasts.
Kathy's sigh of utter contentment filled our ears.
He did it again. That time causing her to clamp her mouth shut to swallow her scream of pain. Her legs began to tremble. The cat landed again. And again.
My job was to keep track of the blows landed to collect the correct fee when finished. Twenty to her breasts landed before he switched to her back and ass which got twenty each.
Then as he stood in front of Kathy again he brought his hand down the strands of the cat until only about six inches remained. .
"Spread your legs as far as possible."
Kathy spread her legs. Leaving her cunt totally -unprotected.
Standing to her left, Mr. Cotheran began to twirl the ends of the cat in a clockwise direction. Faster and faster the ends spun around creating a whistling sound in the room.
Then he moved the ends of the swirling cat to her opened cunt. Thwack, thwack, thwack the ends peppered her opened cunt like a spinning wheel.
Kathy's hands twisted together above her head. Her cunt tipped forward to receive the battering cat in her cunt. And she came.
There was no doubt about that fact.
The ends of the cat became wet. Drenched. Saturated. And still it spun into her until she close-up on the floor unable to hold herself up any more.
But Mr. Cotheran wasn't disappointed in the least. Dropping the cat he flipped her over and jammed his cock up her whipped cunt as fast as he could to their mutual satisfaction as the other women and I looked on.
Following that scheduled event, Mr. Cotheran requested Kathy for the remainder of his stay at the Castle. It was granted.
They were a perfectly matched pair. Each enjoyed the infliction of pain without the restriction of bondage.
A similar case was Mr. Jacobs and Noreen. But there was a slight twist involved.
I was again in the City on a recruiting venture when I entered one of the clubs that had nightly entertainment.
As I took a seat near the stage I saw the enchanting naked Noreen take center stage. The lights dimmed as she was spotlighted.
Taking up a microphone that was lying on the floor, she issued her challenge.
"I am willing to bet $100 that there isn't a person here that can make me beg to stop. The bartender is holding my money and if anyone wants to challenge me, give your $100 to him too."
"First, let me set the rules."
"Only this whip is to be used," she held up a five foot, single strand whip for all to see. "No blows to land above my neck. I am to remain unrestricted at all times. No bondage of any kind is to be used. I will assume any position you require and maintain it until told otherwise."
"I will use supports as needed. Five minutes per challenge. Maximum number of challenges is three, with a five minute break between. Those are my rules. Any challengers?"
The smirking smile on her face let all know that she didn't think any could defeat her.
I was intrigued by her.
Standing tall, all six foot of her, in the spotlight, she was an imposing figure. Full breasts, flared hips, a slightly padded posterior and long legs all showed signs that she could, or at least had, endured the whip before. She still had some slight bruising on her breasts, back and ass.
I got out my note pad and began to take some notes. Here was a possible candidate for the Castle.
Amid murmuring two people approached the bartender and laid down their money. A quick discussion and the order was established.
The taller man hopped onto the stage and took the whip from Noreen's hand.
Reaching up and grabbing a rope that was hanging from a beam on stage, he brought it to her.
"Hold onto that bitch. Arms up and out of the way and legs spread wide."
Noreen calmly did as requested. When she was in position the man began using the whip with a vengeance.
All the length of the whip wrapped around her again and again. It sank into her breasts, the end snapping her spine. It curled around her hips, the tip striking her hair covered mound.
It became a blur of motion. Landing again and again.
Yes, Noreen screamed. Both in pain and in pleasure, but for the full five minutes, for the full fifty-seven times of the whip's landing, she did not beg for him to stop.
At the end of his allotted time he stepped down from the stage.
I don't think he bemoaned the loss of his money.
All were eager to begin again during the break time as Noreen refreshed herself at the side of the stage.
Out of curiosity, I watched the man who was to v be the next challenger.
He didn't seem worried about losing his wager. His entire attention was focused on Noreen at the side of the stage.
What was he watching for, I wondered and turned back to observe her also.
When the bartender, and official time keeper, said it was time again, the man stepped up on stage and took the offered whip from Noreen's hand.
They silently apprised each other in the blinding light. The man slowly walked around her, apparently looking for some clue as to how to go about winning her money and the challenge.
Seemingly satisfied with his inspection, he said, "Place yourself across the horse, hands on ankles, and I will begin."
The horse was basically in the style of a saw-horse, the only difference being the top was padded for the victim to drape over.
Noreen assumed the assigned position with a calmness that belied the situation, in my opinion.
I assumed, and I think everyone else did too, that his target would be her already whipped and bruised ass. If that was the case, we were all wrong.
From the first swing of the whip, it was obvious that the man was no novice to wielding a whip.
Just the very tip struck the back her right knee, leaving a vivid red streak in its wake.
Evidently Noreen was expecting an ass attack too, for she screamed and almost stood up when the tip of the whip landed on the back of her knee.
The second landed in the exact same spot. There was no increase in size. But there was in pain.
Noreen screamed louder than at any other time that night. And I knew why. There are many nerves at the back of the knee and each one had been painfully awaken.
I looked closer. Inspecting her non-whipped left knee I saw what the man had seen.
No marks.
She had never been stuck behind her knees before, thus no experience in handling pain there. As an experienced pain lover I knew what the man was doing.
Any new area to receive pain didn't have minor nerve damage. They were all intact and registering a high level of pain. That is what he had been looking for. Virgin territory. And he had found it.
By the tenth stroke to the exact same spot I knew that Noreen was struggling not to beg him to stop.
Her lips were compressed so deathly together they were invisible. Her knees kept refusing to remain straight for the whip. And her screams erased all remaining skepticism that shortly she would indeed beg for him to stop.
But just when I was sure she was going to beg him to stop, he switched target.
He aimed for the back of her other knee.
Noreen's body snapped up in pain and screamed.
"Nnnooooo ..."
But again before she could beg him to stop, he switched the landing zone of his whip.
He struck her ass.
She screamed, but it wasn't as intense. She could take it there and again laid over the top of the horse.
A minute later the bartender called a halt to the man's time.
Instantly he stopped, stepping forward he took her into his arms and held her.
Suddenly I knew. He wanted her to win her challenge.
And so did I.
As fast as I could I went to the bartender and placed the required $100 in his hand.
Five minutes later I was whipping Noreen. But I made sure it was where she could withstand it. I wasn't harsh, nor was I gentle. I recognized a soul mate and made both of us happy.
When I had had my five minutes, I asked to see her at my table at her convenience. She agreed, almost as if she understood what I had done.
By the time she came to my table Mr. Jacobs and I had had a long talk and my suspicions were confirmed. When Noreen arrived and after talking all of us knew what had transpired and why.
CHAPTER NINE
My master had always felt challenged when offered a dare and the one my brother James gave him came as a special one.
James and his wife Diane had been married for ten years, and had had five children, when we opened Chattel Castle and they came to our grand opening.
We showed them around the facilities and they appeared truly impress with our operation. Always the one for one-upmanship James soon pointed out a feature that we had over looked-a performing theater.
He said that what we had was great but we didn't have a large enough place for real good audience participation.
When asked to elaborate, he did.
James said that what we needed was a very large building that could hold hundreds of paying customers. Customers that would pay to watch what the castle was famous for-the infliction of pain.
"What you need is a place where slaves are on display for people to see. To watch them undergo their punishments or take part in administrating that punishment."
"Yes, your dungeon room are fully supplied but you are missing an entire market of people. People who would pay graciously to just watch a sweet bitch wreath under a whip, or two nimble slaves bound together head to cunt as they jerk to the sting of a crop."
"Can't you just see them? Hundreds of them packed into a huge building. Watching what happens on a big, well light stage. Asking themselves if they could do that to someone, or have it done to themselves."
"And to spice up the fair you could have challenges. Just imagine if I bet you that my Diane could take more than your Chrissy. We could charge people to be judges. Or punishers. Or just to watch which slave can take the most."
"Picture it, Douglas. Our wives are bound at center stage. The building is oppressively hot with the packed customers. And step by step we take our wives through their paces. Whips, canes, weights, fire, needles and on and on."
"We could collect bets as to who will last the longest before begging to be released. You could take the house share of the bets. You could sell their punishments just as you do for other castle services."
"But the building couldn't be within the castle. It would have to be separate. With ample parking, which naturally you charge for."
"When people pay for their tickets they could also rent a whip or a crop or a whatever to use on the victims of the night. But to keep it interesting, only have one show a month."
"If offered daily or weekly it would become commonplace. And what I can envision is nothing at all like common."
"And just to prove I'm serious, I will challenge you personally. Your opening night would feature Diane and Chrissy as the challenged slaves. What do you say? I'll even go in halves with you on costs and profits."
Well, needless to say my master accepted my brother's challenge.
It took almost a full year to chose the sight on our five hundred acre estate, build the theater and the other necessary items, such as the two acre parking lot.
Three months before the scheduled opening night we started our publicity campaign and the reservations starting rolling in.
Because of the size of the place, it was decided that four huge screens would be placed around the room to show what was happening on stage.
Film crews were hired and videos of the event would be sold. Each patron would be given two drink tickets with the admission price and be limited to just those two drinks.
We didn't want any rudeness.
Three hundred could be seated in the theater. All surrounding the stage that was in the middle of the building.
The admission price was $100 and we were not so prudish as to forbid our audience from finding sexual satisfaction as the evening progress.
There would even be twenty female and fifteen male slaves from the castle in attendance for those who wished to purchase their services. Cash in advance was the rule.
For two weeks before the opening night I was frustratingly unabused so I would have my full strength to call upon.
We knew that my brother was totally serious when he made his own bet with my master-the loser would sign over half of his share in the theater to the winner, giving the winner control of the theater, and an additional bet of $250,000.
The rules of the challenge were simple.
The master's slave that begged to stop lost. Each slave was to receive the identical damage and would alternate in being first to receive it. For example I would be whipped, then Diane, then Diane would be say burnt then me. Back and forth.
If a slave fainted she was considered the loser. Everything done was to as identical as possible including what the customers paid for. Minimum time of the challenge was to be three hours.
The opening night finally arrived. The doors opened at 4:00. The "Slave Challenge" would begin at 6:00.
By 4:28 every swivel chair in the theater was filled and the food caterers were doing a booming business.
One hundred and seventeen people were denied entrance.
By 4:45 one hundred people had paid for the upcoming video to be mailed to them as soon as it was available.
James, Diane, Douglas and I arrived at 5:45 and entered the tunnel beneath the theater.
James and Douglas were dressed the same in leather, skin tight pants and leather boots.
Diane was wearing a full length sable that matched her black hair.
I wore a full length chinchilla that matched my silver blond hair.
We were a contrast of black and white. Beneath our furs we were both nude except for our rings (five respectively) and cuffs on our wrists and ankles.
As we took our places on the round platform that would raise us to the center of the stage we could hear the announcer of the theater call for quiet and for everyone to take their seats please as the "Slave Challenge" was about to begin.
The crowd hushed. The lights dimmed.
The four huge screens were filled with the scene of the stage.
Our platform began to rise, and I don't know about Diane but my skin was covered with goose bumps.
As our heads came above the level of the stage floor I was blinded by the bright lights and my ears filled with the avid applause of our appreciative audience.
With a click our platform locked into place.
"Ladies and gentlemen may I present the challengers of the evening. Master James and his slave Diane."
James gave a slight bow and took the fur from Diane.
More applause, whistles and yells filled the room as I Mane took a bow then stood straight and tall in all her beautiful splendor.
When the noise level died down a bit the announcer continued. "And Master Douglas and his slave Chrissy."
I felt my master remove my wrap and greeted my own applause with a bow then stood straight and proud before them.
"Welcome to the Theater of Pain. We hope that all of you will be thoroughly entertained as Diane and Chrissy challenge each other in a duel of pain. The rules of the challenge are simple. The first to beg for their torment to stop is declared the loser. And tonight the special word is 'Eagle'."
"Each slave may use any other word during her torment. She may beg for mercy, say stop over and over, or any other word. But when she says "Eagle" she is admitting defeat."
"To make sure that each slave knows the code word, would she please say it now."
Diane and I both said "Eagle" and I'm sure that both of us prayed that we would not say it again before the night was over.
"The only other way to stop the challenge is for a slave to faint. If she does faint she is again declared the loser of the challenge. If there are no questions, we may now begin."
The room was totally silent except for some heavy breathing.
"The equipment on stage has been tested. Each set is as equal as possible. The first piece of equipment to be used is the paddling machine. Please attach the slaves to their machines."
Two identical paddling machines had been placed to our right.
In front of them were two paddle horses that Diane and I were bound to. Our wrists and ankles were attached to rings in the legs of the horses.
Our asses faced the paddling machines. The paddle machines were similar to baseball pitching machines, but instead of throwing balls they swung a wooden paddle.
"The first to met the challenge of the paddling machines will be Chrissy."
A chill went up my spine.
"She will receive ten strokes at setting number one. Each stroke will be thirty seconds apart. The pressure per square inch on setting one is ten pounds per square inch."
The first stroke landed on my tensed ass.
The smacking sound filled the room along with the murmuring of the crowd. By the time the tenth one landed my ass was definitely tender.
"Chrissy, do you wish to stop?"
I shook my head.
"Do you remember the code word? If so, say it now."
I said "Eagle".
"Now for the challenger."
I turned my head to watch Diane get her ten strokes. She made no sound either. When the tenth stroke was over she too was asked if she wanted to stop and if she remembered the code word.
And so we progressed our way through the paddling machines.
Each of us received ten strokes at each of the ten settings. By the last setting our asses were receiving one hundred pounds of pressure per square inch. And every stroke landed in the same place for each one hundred strokes.
Neither of us managed to get to the end in silence. We were moaning and screaming by the eight round but neither of us said "Eagle" except to confirm that we remember it.
"You may release your slaves. The next challenge will be the weight competition. If you will kindly attach your slaves to the beams while I explain to our audience what is to happen."
The beams were two huge twelve by twelve beams that were attached to hoists. Our ankle bands were attached to rings in the floor and our wrists to the beams.
After each beam was raised to adjust to our individual heights Diane and I were held firmly in place in the classic X. The beams did not pull us off the floor but they stopped just short of doing so.
"As you can see, either by being close enough or by one of the screens, each slave has five rings piercing her body. There is a ring in each of her nipples. A ring in each vaginal lip and one through the center of the clitoris."
"Now you can see that each master is attaching a hook to each ring of his slave. Those hooks weigh four ounces each. During this challenge weights, each weighing a half a pound, will be hung from each hook in rotation."
"Master James if you would select the first target. Then Master Douglas will place his the same, then he will select and Master James will copy. So on alternating back and forth. Please begin."
Diane and I were back to back on the stage but there was a split screen in front" of each of us.
The top half showed Diane as my brother hooked the first weight from her left nipple ring. I saw him slowly remove his hand and her breast pull toward her stomach.
My master came to me and did the same as I watched myself on the lower portion of the screen in front of me.
As my nipple took the weight I felt my nipple pull and my ass muscles tighten.
My master whispered, "Left nipple again," before he slid the next weight onto the same hook that hung from my left nipple. As he eased his hand away I couldn't help but moan.
I watched the screen as James did the same then place his next weight on Diane's right nipple ring hook.
My master copied him then knelt down and I felt the first weight hang from my left cunt lip.
And back and forth they went as Diane and I supported the weights by our rings. When the last weight was used we were both screaming our heads off, but neither of us screamed out "Eagle".
Each of us had eight pound hanging from each nipple, five from each cunt lip and three pounds were pulling our clits several inches away from our leaking snatches.
Our weights were removed and we were freed as the announcer informed the audience of the next challenge.
"The next challenge will be the whipping from the audience. As the slaves are bound into place let me explain to the participants."
"Many of you have paid for the privilege to whip the challengers. None of you were sold and odd number of strokes because you are to divide your strokes equally between the challengers."
"So if you purchased, say, six whip strokes, you would apply three to each slave. You are to place them in the same places. For example if you whipped Diane three times across the breasts then our other three would have to be applied to Chrissy's breasts."
"We ask each participant to try to use the same force and target for each slave. Our aim is to see who can stand the most pain, so try to be as equal as possible."
"If it is judged that you inflict pain unequally, you will be denied the remainder of your blows or required to leave. If there are no more questions, we may now begin."
"Would the person holding the green ticket number one please come forward?"
Upon arrival the audience had been able to buy tickets to participate in the challenge. They paid for the number of punishments and for the area of application.
For instance it cost more to whip cunts that it did to whip asses and the tickets were marked to show what and where that they had paid for.
Diane and I had no way of knowing who would do what to us.
Only the Punishment Master had a master list of how had paid for what and he was the sole determinator of the order of application.
As Diane and I hung suspended from the beams again, our feet attached to the floor, we had no idea of what was to happen to us.
The Punishment Master took over the micro? phone and began his job for the evening. "Ticket holder number one will administer five whip strokes to each slave, beginning with Chrissy."
"Each stroke is to land directly across nipples. Number one please begin."
I saw an average sized man approach me.
He carried a three foot whip in his left hand.
He smiled at me before he brought his whip back. An instant later the whip dug deeply into my previously stretched nipples with tremendous force.
I screamed my head off.
He did it four more times then did the same to Diane.
He must have been fair because she screamed just as loud as I had.
Number two was called to the stage, then three and so on. ,
Number two applied three whip strokes each to our paddled asses.
Three landed four each on our breasts.
Number four managed to land seven each on our spread cunts, fortunately we were standing upright and he couldn't get them all that well, but there was no doubt that our cunts had been whipped when he stepped off the stage.
And so on they came.
By watching the video later I know that Diane and I received 194 whip strokes each from the audience.
We were anything but unblemished when the last whip was collected.
A fifteen minute break was called after the whipping was over..
Diane and I gladly accepted the rest period. We were definitely battered and bruised. And both of us had come so many times that we had lost track of the number.
We were given drinks and tried to find a comfortable way to relax while given the chance.
During our break many in the audience took the opportunity to find some sexual relief, order copies of the film, or buy refreshments.
I paid them scant attention.
"The next challenge will be the challenge of piercing. If you would attach your slaves to the beams again we may begin."
"Each slave will be pierced with various items and any part of their bodies may be pierced. Their own masters will place the piercing articles, again using a rotation. Master Douglas you may have the first selection."
My master chose a safety pin and drove it through the tender skin in my right arm pit, pulled it all the way through and snapped it shut.
Then James used an eight inch needle through Diane's stomach so that her navel was covered by the needle piercing skin on both sides of it.
Next came a self-piercing ring to our left nostrils.
And so on it went.
We had needles, pins, little drilling bits that resembled cork screws, safety pins, rings, serrated clamps that cut into us and others covering most of our bodies.
There were eighteen items in each of our tits, ten in our cunt lips, over twenty-five in our asses, three in our clits and so on. In total each of us were pierced identically over a hundred times.
They hurt almost as much coming out as they had going in.
We were given another break before the final challenge of fire.
Viewing the video, I'm still amazed that neither of us had asked to stop. Neither of us could move all that well when we were bathed and ointments applied to our flesh during the final break.
Both of us had almost totally lost our voices from our many screams but each could, if we dared, still say "Eagle".
After over three hours the final challenge began.
Again we were bound to the beams and floor as the announcer informed the audience that the instruments to be used on us would come from the same dispenser, whether it be one of the heated ovens, or from a burning brazier.
Each item was to be times to assure equal amounts of heat. When he was done we began our final and most demanding challenge.
Heat and fire are very potent implements of torture. But for them to be used on flesh that was already whipped, clipped, pulled and tormented was pure agony.
Diane and I were anything but refreshed.
We were drained, weak and in severe pain before the first heated rod connected with our abused nipples.
As more and more of our skin was turned red and blistered the rules were changed.
We were to be harmed simultaneously.
Everyone knew that both of us were on the verge of total collapse.
The bottoms of our feet, the tender skin behind our knees, asses, tits, arm pits, stomach and thighs were all blistered when the final area of our opened cunts was challenged with open flames.
Our cunt hairs were singed way. Our entire mounds looked shaved.
And Diane screamed out "Eagle" as James held the flame to her clit.
The announcer confirmed her request to stop.
Diane again screamed out "Eagle" in her weaken voice and James began to remove her from bondage.
When my master whispered his request in my ear, at first I thought he was insane. But when he explained that it would confirm a unchallenged victory, I agreed.
I don't know how, but I agreed.
When James had freed Diane my master asked him to watch.
James turned his head, the camera zoomed in, and all could see my master as he used the candle that had just burnt my clit slam into my opened cunt as I hung there.
The flame didn't last all that long inside my soaked cunt but I felt every fraction of a second that it burned away within me.
Then keeping the candle in me like a dildo, my master released me, bent me over on to my hands and knees and fucked my ass as the finale.
The Slave Challenge was over.
I had won, but somehow I didn't feel like celebrating.
After the Challenge I was under a doctor's care for over a week. And it was sixteen days before I again was administered any pain, but my master was kind enough to fuck me several times during that period.
The slave challenges are still held monthly at the theater and they still draw large crowds, but to date I have not participated again.
Many people have suggested having a Challenge of Champions, but so far my master has refused.
