This material is not intended to be read by those under the age
of consent in the jurisdiction in which they are accessing the
Internet. If you are too young to be reading this, DON'T READ
IT! If you are an adult with children and are reading this,
please consider where you store it, and whether or not your
children can and should be accessing it. This is a work of
fiction. Like all works of fiction it has some basis in fact and
personal experience. Copyright: This story is copyright 1995 by
the author, Doc Masterson, under the U.S. Copyright Convention
and the Bourne Conventions. All rights, including: the right to
re-transmit beyond the intitial access, the right to store on a
remote server; and the right to re-print or distribute, are
expressly reserved to the copyright holder and may not be
exercised without permission of the author. Personal and
non-commercial use is not restricted.
Hollywood Hostage
by
Doc Masterson
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Remove his catheter," Breta said "I'm going to give him one
more chance to get his dick together."
I had spent my last hours in the bag realizing how
controlled I had become by sex. There used to be other parts of
my life. That was a thing of the past. It was sex that ruined
everything. Everything. I didn't understand all the mind games
that the two had pulled on me but I knew it had focused my life
on sex.
It took a long time for them to get me completely out of the
sleeping bag. As they unzipped the main zipper, I could smell
the strong smell of hours of gym quality sweat. The smell even
came up the tubes in my nose. It really told me how disgusting I
had become.
"You've got to go into the bathroom and shower," Trixi said
as she finally removed the balloon hood from my head.
"Yes, mistress," I said, finally glad to be able to see and
communicate in the real world.
They took me up to the bathroom off Breta's bedroom suite.
I was glad to get some clean water and anti-bacterial soap on the
many wounds that still were visible on my body. I was tempted to
try to use the warm water and soap to work the rings off my cock
and balls. I knew there would be repercussions, I didn't need
them right now.
"Are you going to take the whole day in there?" Breta asked
in a demanding tone from the nearby bedroom suite.
"No, mistress," I said. "I'll be right out."
When I got to the bedroom, I found Breta was in bed
apparently waiting for me to give her the sex a slave was
expected to provide. My cock was hard, as usual, and ready if
this was really what she wanted. I knew, however, I had to wait
for the order to perform.
"Fuck me, Rick. Get your worthless prick over here and give
me something to remember you by," Breta finally ordered.
"Yes, mistress," I said a little unsure why she would need
to have something by which to remember me.
I climbed in bed with her and took the male superior
position, just as if I were really superior. She was a demanding
client and I had to give her almost an hour of strenuous sex.
Through out it all, I somehow managed to keep my need for orgasm
in check. It was, perhaps, the previous two days in the rubber
sleep sack. My cannon wanted relief, but not if it meant more
pain. I might find a time I could use to masturbate.
"If that's the best you can do, just give it up," Breta said
after what I knew had been multiple deeply felt climaxes.
"Yes, mistress," I said somewhat surprised at the disgust in
her voice.
"You know that when you don't provide the kind of sex your
mistress needs you will be punished."
"Yes, mistress," I said realizing for the first time that
simple multi-climax satisfaction was not going to be enough to
satisfy my mistress.
*****
I had no idea that Breta would choice such a diabolical way
to drive home her point. I expected to be taken to the torture
chamber. I expected them to put me into one of the machines I
had not experienced before. They seemed driven by a need to get
my body into every device they had to offer. It would have been
too much to take if my dick had not been so hard and ready for
action.
The latest device they were using looked for all the world
like an old fashion saddle stand. It had four widely spread
wooden legs and a curved surface made of two-by-fours at the top
where a saddle could comfortably rest between rides. The problem
was that there was no saddle on this stand. My body had taken
its place. My ankles were tied to the legs on one side and my
wrists to the other. Somehow I knew this stand was not going to
be a place for me to just rest.
As I looked up at my tormentors from between my legs, I
could see they were not ready to start my real punishment. They
had a little add-on to make my torment more interesting. Under
the upper rack of the device there was a bracket they used to
install a special appliance. It went between my legs and since
its end contained a tapered dildo, it was shoved up my
unlubricated ass. They seemed to love to fuck my ass with
something large and tapered.
"We use this stand to test our paddles," Trixi said pointing
to the wall I could see behind her.
"Yes, mistress, that is quite a collection," I said mentally
counting more than three dozen neatly racked on the wall by
hocks.
"Some are designed to just get the blood flowing," Breta
said. "That way you will feel the others a little better."
"Yes, mistress," I said knowing they were really just
playing with my mind.
"Some seem to have the effect of giving you such immediate
pain you will pass out," Trixi taunted, "and others will make you
sore for nearly a week."
"Yes, mistress," I said trying to give as neutral a tone to
my voice as possible.
"Are you ready for a warm up?" Breta asked as if I really
had a choice.
"Yes, mistress," I said realizing that it didn't really
matter what I thought about their timing for the torture of my
body.
I could see Trixi get a pair of paddles from the wall. They
looked like large ping-pong paddles with long handles. The
paddles themselves were made of leather so they were flexible.
One side of the paddle seemed to be covered with a rubber like
material and the other seemed to have a substance on the surface
that sparkled like a jeweler's diamond sandpaper.
"Are you ready for your punishment?" Breta asked with her
paddle poised over my butt.
"Yes, mistress," was the only answer I could possibly give.
The two made eye contacts with each other to coordinate
their strokes. They had positioned themselves to take temporary
ownership of my two ass cheeks. They were about to stake a
claim. I tightened my ass muscles in anticipation. I somehow
hoped that a tight ass would be a protected ass.
The strokes came within a fraction of a second of one
another. They were using the paddles smooth rubber surfaces on
my ass globes. Both trainers seemed intent on overlapping blows
that drove the plug in my ass a little deeper. The fire in my
ass cheeks spread in ever widening circles from the center of
their stroke. The plug was driven a bit into my ass where it
opened some of my old wounds.
"Are you thankful we are still willing to train a slave as
unworthy as you?" Breta asked after a few preliminary strokes.
"Yes, mistress," I said struggling to hold back a scream of
pain.
"Then say thank you!" Trixi demanded poised with the
paddle ready for more damaging blows.
"Thank you, mistress," I somehow managed above the pain.
"Thank you for what worthless slave?" Breta brayed as she
took aim on my ass much like a baseball player would prepare to
hit a home run.
"Thank you for paddling my ass," I said trying to make them
happy.
"Your worthless male slave's ass," Trixi coaxed with a smile
directed at Breta.
"Thank you for paddling my worthless male slave's ass."
"And don't you deserve more?" Breta asked in a feigned
desire for more facts.
"Thank you for paddling my worthless male slave's ass. Will
you please do it again because I deserve more punishment?"
"Very good," Breta said with the smile of satisfaction only
winning can give.
"Your wish is our wish too." Trixi said signaling Breta with
her eyes for another pair of blows from their paddles.
"Thank you for paddling my worthless male slave's ass. Will
you please do it again because I deserve more punishment?"
It took the pair about thirty blows to tire of the smooth
side of the paddle. Their proficiency at training slaves, like
myself, showed as they switched effortlessly to the sand paper
side of the paddle. The rubber paddle stung and seemed to make
my flesh tingle with the effects of massive increases in blood
flow. I was sure my ass had taken on a rosy red color.
The sandpaper surface felt quite different. While both hurt
the sandpaper surface seemed intent on rubbing off outer layers
of skin. My reddened ass was becoming tender for the future
assaults they must have had planned. The butt plug was soon
going to draw blood if they kept jamming it up my ass.
We continued to play their little game of their giving me
punishment and my requesting more. It seemed to make them happy,
and I knew they were going to complete their plans no matter
what. I could see no reason to make them mad and add tasks to
their list of planned punishments. The punishment did seem to
make my dick harder and that was about the only pleasure I had
enjoyed lately.
"I think he is ready for some of our good old-fashioned
razor strap," Breta said taking a breather from sandpaper
paddling my ass.
"Are you ready for that Slave Rick?" Trixi asked.
"Yes, mistress and thank you for paddling my worthless male
slave's ass. Will you please do it again with the razor strap
because I deserve more punishment?"
The razor straps were definitely a step up in the pain level
they were expecting me to endure. Each pair of blows would take
my breath away. Although I would tighten my ass muscles in
anticipation, they seemed to sting from blow-to-blow with the
pain. About half the time I heard my voice let out an
uncontrollable squeal of pain before my programmed request for
more pain.
"Thank you for paddling my worthless male slave's ass. Will
you please do it again because I deserve more punishment," I kept
saying no matter what the blows were doing to the flesh on my
once tight ass.
"These paddles have these little holes in them," Trixi said
showing the surface of her next selection to me through my
vantage point between my legs.
"They look like what I need for you to continue paddling my
worthless male slave's ass. Will you please do it again now
because I deserve more punishment?" I said with an impatience I
could not understand.
The razor strap had burned like fire as each blow hit my
ass. The edges of the strap seemed to leave a lasting burn that
continued for several additional whippings. The small areas of
my ass I could see from below seemed to be getting tiny lines
where there was a trail of blood. The redness of my ass was
likely being striped with trails of blood.
The first stroke of the holey wooden paddle proved quite a
different experience. I could not sustain my muscle contractions
in the face of the wood surface, it hurt too much to try. The
paddle itself seemed intent on giving my butt bruises I would
remember for days. It was the holes, however, that hurt the
most. Each hole seemed to be start for a blister.
"Oh, thank you for paddling my worthless male slave's
ass. Will you please do it again because I deserve more
punishment?" I said with the presence of mind of a vending
machine.
The pain was increasing with each blow. They knew the tools
they had available for my ass all too well. There seemed to me a
wide array of implements they could use to make my ass the hot
spot of the day. Each paddle seemed to come in pairs so they
could work on both of my ass cheeks at the same time. The two-sided punishment also made trying to move my ass out of harms way
impossible. If I moved to avoid Breta's blow, I would get it
heavier from Trixi.
"This is called a cane paddle," Trixi gleefully said as she
showed me what they had next jointly selected for my ass.
It was a handle that had what looked like a long broom on
the end. The broom's fibers were, however, quite different.
They were really small cane reeds. They seemed highly flexible
and guaranteed to have quite a whip like action. I had to
swallow hard as I saw this one poised and ready for my ass.
"We got this one from Singapore," Breta said. "You may
remember the controversy a couple of years ago about their use of
the cane."
"Yes, mistress," I said somehow unable to invite them to use
it on my ass.
"There is no controversy here," Trixi added with a glare
that told me I was making a mistake.
"I understand and I thank you for paddling my worthless male
slave's ass. Will you please do it with the cane whip because I
deserve more punishment?" I repeated to again 'get with the
program'.
"He really knows how much punishment he needs, doesn't he?"
Breta asked.
"And he is certainly going to get more than he thinks he
deserves."
They took their first stroke at my ass and I realized all
other paddles had been just preliminaries to this one. The minor
leagues. The second team. My ass was ripped with pain. The
skin felt like it was being shredded by the many knobby shapes of
the reeds. The whipping action seemed determined to tear through
my last resistance. I could not keep from screaming.
"Aghhhhhh, er, thank you for paddling my worthless male
slave's ass. Will you please do it again because I deserve more
punishment?" I screamed, somehow able to remember the demanded
company line.
"You know his ass seems to really understand this paddle,"
Breta said laughing.
"It's getting the bloody point, as they say," Trixi quipped
in a forced British accent.
"Oh god that hurts, but thank you for paddling my worthless
male slave's ass. Will you please do it again because I deserve
more punishment?" was the best I could manage for the next blow.
"This ought to keep his little pecker hard for a few days,"
Trixi said winding up for the third cane whip blow.
"The problem is that it is such a little pecker," Breta said
as the two hit my ass simultaneously.
"Aghhhhhh, oh, shit that just hurts too much. Please no
more with this paddle. I can try anything else, but this one
just hurts too much."
"What was that?" Breta demanded like an erupting volcano.
"I'm sorry, mistress."
"And?" Trixi pressured.
"Thank you for paddling my worthless male slave's ass. Will
you please do it again because I deserve more punishment," I
reluctantly said hoping the next stroke would be enough to enter
a safe unconscious world.
The author of this work does custom fiction starting at $,1000. The author's E-mail address is
an53888@anon.penet.fi. The author's only authorized archive site for this work is The Backdrop.
Visit their World Wide Web Page at http://www.fantasies.com or contact its administrator Robin
Roberts by E-mail (robin@backdrop.com or file.request@backdrop.com) or mail (Post Office
Box 390486 -- Mountain View California -- 94039-0486). Their Phone lines are: Voice
415-965-4499, Fax 415-964-3879, or BBS 415-964-3100.