We’ve been back from Malta for a few weeks now, and today I make a big commitment. Whilst away Ken and I thought long and hard about my contract with Colin. I am enjoying the experience, Ken is too, and the money is making a big difference. So today I confirm the contract for not just the twelve months but also commit to the further two years. This will pay for all our house renovation plans, including the swimming pool in the garden, and more.
Strange isn’t it, I know I am being paid for sex but do not consider myself to be a whore. The contract legitimizes things in my mind.
So it is that I am relaxing with Colin and Alex in the hotel lounge, having signed the contract this morning. We chatted long into the afternoon, like the friends we have become.
“Oh, look at the time, I must be going. I need to make myself beautiful for tonight.”
“You don’t need any help in that department,” Colin gallantly remarks.
“Very true,” Alex affirms.
“Thank you, kind sirs, it never hurts to be told though,” I wink at them as I walk away, leaving two laughing men behind me. My normal persona and dress are far different from my ‘professional’ image. Wearing little or no make-up, with quality tailored and classical clothing, compared to the nicely made-up and seductively dressed ‘professional’.
It’s a 6 p.m. start, quite early, as the clients are taking me to a BDSM club and it is in the suburbs. So a little travelling is involved.
I do not need any special clothes as the client is supplying everything and arranging transport. Alex had asked me a few months earlier if I was OK with this scenario and I had said yes, more out of curiosity than desire. Now it was happening I must admit I felt a little nervous. Although Alex had checked out the club and confirmed it is well run and controlled.
The only instructions I have are to call them Mistress and Master at all times and do exactly as they say.
I knock on their door promptly at 6 p.m. and am welcomed into their room with brief introductions, instructed to call them master and mistress at all times and to do as instructed with no argument.
I agree, “Yes master, mistress.”
“Undress quickly,” the mistress commands.
Standing naked before them, they walk around me admiring my body.
“Oh yes, very nice, you will do well, I think!” master exclaims excitedly.
Mistress hands me a lightweight coat.
“You will not need any clothes where we are going, this is for travelling only, we do not want to get arrested for indecent exposure,” she explains with a smirk.
Slipping it on, it feels nicely tailored but small. It only just overlaps and is short too, barely coming as low as mid-thigh on me. Feeling down for the fastening it is soon apparent that there are none.
“Here’s the belt, just cinch it at the waist,” master grins as he hands me the belt. No belt loops either.
Cinching the belt tight makes the bottom of the coat flare, loosening it lets it slip open. Either I show a lot of my inner thigh, or it slips open showing everything. Leg it is then, just as well the car park or possibly Taxi rank are only a few yards from the hotel.
Walking out of the hotel we go the wrong way. Damn, we are going to the underground station. At this time of night, 6.30 p.m., it is still pretty much peak time, and the trains will be crowded!
Carefully I squeeze through the ticket barriers, gathering not just glances but stares, as so much leg is being exposed. Standing on the escalator anyone looking up from below will get a good look at my bare nether regions! Walking through the crowded platform is a nightmare! I keep a tight grip on my coat as people jostle and push around me. The train will be even worse.
Mistress tells me to stand when on the train and to cross to the opposite side of the carriage from them.
Boarding the train, I have to squeeze through the tightly packed throng of people, dragging my coat against them, trying vainly to keep it enclosed around me. On reaching the space, I turn to face my master and mistress. They indicate I should reach up and hold onto the strap hanger. Tentatively I do, the coat rides higher up my thigh, and opens at my chest. Look down and anyone can see my breasts.
I lurch suddenly forward as the train pulls away, and a young man catches me. His hand whips under my coat and pushes it fully open, exposing my left boob to him. He grins but does not attempt to remove his hand as I try to make myself decent again. Mistress and master grin wolfishly at me.
Slowly, the young man slides his hand down my side and around to my mound. Another hand starts squeezing my bum and slowly raises my coat until it kneads bare flesh.
Quickly a group of men is packed tightly around me, their hands wandering over and under my coat. Not just men, I realize as I feel a pair of breasts pressing into my back. I try to fend them off, to no avail. Being so short, I seem to be invisible to the bulk of people in the carriage, or they are just ignoring what is going on.
The young, grinning man has found his way to my crotch and is beginning to explore my pussy when the train jerks around a sharp bend, and people sway and move. The hands under my coat pull it wide open. I am not allowed by the many hands coveting my body to draw it closed again! I suffer in silence as many hands squeeze and poke at my body. Entering my pussy, which I must admit is wet, and nipping and squeezing my nipples and bum.
The hands and men change at nearly every stop, the newcomers quickly realizing what is going on. I am sure some of them missed their stations!
At last, my mistress and master stand up and reach out to pull me to them, receiving complaints from the men around me. I quickly cinch the coat back up again as we leave the train. A quick glance at the station clock reveals the journey has taken forty-five minutes, it seemed much longer.
“Wasn’t that fun?” master enthuses.
“Yes, master,” I dutifully reply. In truth, it was more like humiliation, however, my pussy is wet and throbbing slightly. My body contrasts with my mind.
Walking out of the station and along to our destination, the stares continue at my attire or lack of it.
We stop outside a burger bar, they’re looking at the menu. “This will do,” the master says, and we go inside.
The master goes to order and the mistress takes me over to the window seating bar.
“Sit on the stool and look out of the window,” she orders.
As I stretch up to the high stool I know my pussy is fully exposed to anyone outside. Sitting quickly I tuck the coat together as far as I can, it still gaps open as high as the belt. My legs are tight together, but anyone looking in the window can see I am naked from my midriff to my shoes. Master and mistress sit on either side of me, chatting to each other, eating their burgers. Pulling my legs apart whenever someone passes by outside. I have never felt so vulnerable.
We leave the burger bar and walk only a few hundred yards more to arrive at the club. An impressive Georgian building, ‘Da Vinci Club’ discreetly sign written on the large black doors. Members-only of course.
We enter through the large doors and walk into an equally large hallway, as the master talks to the receptionist I gawk at the erotic artwork decorating the walls. Roman, Greek, Egyptian, Victorian, and modern-day scenes are depicted in all their gory detail. An equally erotic clock shows it is eight o’clock.
“Good evening Michael, as promised one fresh new thing for you to break in. Sharon, you will now be Michael’s property for the evening, behave for him as for us,” master commands and walks away.
“Remove your shoes and coat and give them to the girl behind the desk,” Michael orders.
I do and am now standing naked before him.
Walking around me he leans into my ear and whispers, “Safe word is ‘amazon’ or circle your fingers like this”, and he puts his hand in front of me.
“This evening will be painful but endurable, there will be no marks left on your body, but you will be tender for a while. Make as much noise as you like, it keeps the audience happy.” He grins.
He then attaches a belt around my waist with a strap leading to a collar which he places around my neck. The strap going between my breasts. Another strap is attached to the belt which he pulls between my legs and up my back to be attached to the collar. The girl from the desk kneels in front of me and pulls my labia apart and adjusts the strap to run neatly between them. Michael pulls it tight, neatly spreading my pussy and forcing my lips to engulf the invading strap.
A matching hood is pulled over my head, it has eye slits and does not cover my mouth or nostrils. No one will recognize me at least.
The whole outfit is uncomfortably tight, and then Michael tugs on the lead attached to the collar and beckons me to follow him. I gasp in pain and surprise as the strap between my legs rubs over my clitoris, the rough leather tormenting it as I walk.
He leads me into a large room, a lounge come bar area with maybe fifty or so people in it. Some are dressed in skimpy sexy clothing, some are not dressed at all, this is the women. The men are generally attired in chinos and T-shirts. Although some do have their cocks out and a few are topless.
He walks me around the room, displaying me to them. The more I walk the greater the torment between my legs, however, it is now turning to pleasure rather than pain. Please I do not want to cum like this!
“Can I touch her breasts Michael?” one man asks.
“Of course,” comes the reply.
Gently at first this stranger strokes at my globes, then firmly squeezes my nipples.
“Umm, they feel firm enough, they should hold a good weight,” breast man comments.
A woman asks to do the same, she is much rougher and confirms the opinion on my nipples.
“Michael, can she suck my cock,” is shouted across the room.
Michael laughs and drags me across the room.
“Suck his cock,” he commands.
The man is sitting on a chair, his cock standing at attention through his fly. I kneel on the floor, bending forward, and take his cock into my mouth. I stick my bum out teasingly too. The up and down motion on his cock is tormenting my clitoris ever so gently, I have to concentrate to prevent myself from cumming. My pussy juices are now flowing freely and we have not yet got to the main event, well I do not think we have!
SLAP, SLAP across my bum cheeks makes me rise in shock. I never heard anyone ask to do that!
Michael pulls me to my feet, much to cock man’s chagrin.
My bum cheeks tingle as Michael walks me out of the room and up some stairs. The stairs are a real torment for my pussy and clitoris! Then along a short corridor to some large red doors.
“This is your last chance to change your mind. Once in here, only the safe word will release you. You are expected to at least endure for a while,” Michael explains.
I simply nod my head.
He then zips the hood’s eye slits closed. Being blind is disorientating, I have to trust Michael completely.
He leads me through the doors.
“My assistant will take your arm and help guide you around,” he whispers.
A gentle grip is taken on my right arm. I can hear the buzz of quiet conversation as we walk along. Then all goes quiet as I am led up three steps.
We walk a few more steps before I am turned around. The strap between my legs is released and removed, much to my relief, and they lay me on a padded surface. Michael and his assistant slide me into the position they want, then pull my arms above my head and secure them. My legs are similarly secured.
I can hear a mechanical cranking noise, and then feel myself being stretched lengthways. It’s a medieval torture rack!
But I do not get taller! The cranking is pulling at my ankles, opening my legs. I am comfortable at what feels like ninety degrees, much less so when it reaches one hundred and eighty degrees. It keeps on pulling me apart, it is now painful. My ankles feel to be level with my shoulders when it finally stops. The pain subsides to numbness. My thoughts run to how my pussy must look!
My nipples flare in pain as vicious clamps are applied to them, and I whimper. They get pulled directly up, stretching them wickedly. I am whimpering and moaning, my nipples are on fire, and then the underside of each breast is whipped in unison, making me scream in shock and pain. Repeatedly they are struck. I lose count of the strokes. Each stroke stretches and pulls my nipples as I react to the strikes, flaring the pain in them. It is surprising how quickly the sting and pain subside once they stop.
Movement at the other end of the table heralds the same treatment administrated to my butterfly lips. Clamps, not one, but I count three, are attached to each lip. Gripped tightly my lips are pulled aside which must afford a view deep into my vagina. Smack, I am hit by some kind of whip right along my open gash, from my nub to my bum crack. I scream in pain. Michael is very accurate as he targets individual areas. Hitting my tender nub, my inner lips, and my gaping pussy. I scream and jerk at each blow. My movement rips at my pussy lips and nipples.
Then the assistant must be joining in as my breasts are once again being assaulted, this time by something much broader and heavier.
Once again the pain subsides quickly when they stop their ministrations.
The clamps are removed, from my nipples and labia, revealing a whole new world of pain as my circulation returns to them. My legs are slowly bought back together, my tethers released and Michael and his assistant lift me off the device. That was not so bad I muse, thinking it’s all over now. My legs are too shaky for me to stand alone and they carry me away, stopping after a few steps.
My arms are pulled above my head and attached to something above me. They let go of me and I sag down, my legs still can’t support me. It is of no matter as I am being lifted off the ground, my feet now swinging clear, the pull in my shoulders is bearable but certainly not nice.
My body spins around as my bum is hit with what feels like a wide flat object, a paddle comes to my mind. The pain takes a second to register, then I am spinning the other way as the other cheek is hit. It is like a game of tennis, hit and return, but without the missed shots. My bum is too good a target, it starts burning with fire.
The expected return stroke does not happen, my left breast explodes in pain, then my right, now my bum. All areas are being struck with a great degree of accuracy and venom. My nipples alone are hit, side to side, up and down. They are so sensitive I nearly scream the safe word when it stops.
They lower me down but do not release me. I am kept suspended and my tits are being bound by what feels like a rough rope. Tighter and tighter they are bound. Then the rope is run between my legs, my lips being parted to ensure full contact with my clitoris and vagina. I scream when this is pulled up tight, as it cuts through my slit. My tits feel as though they will explode, they are so tightly bound. I am lifted again, my nipples are slapped, they are so sensitive now I have to scream, moving down to moans as subservience and acceptance take over.
Heavy clamps are attached to my nipples, pulling them down, they get heavier and heavier, and then they are swinging, as they attack my bum once more with the paddles. My nipples are being tormented and torn with each strike on my bum. Again I am close to using the safe word when they stop again.
The rope between my legs, which has been chafing at my pussy, is removed while I am still hanging. Ropes or something is attached to my ankles and my legs pulled apart, exposing my pussy.
They lower me down and feel something pushes at my pussy entrance, it eases itself inside of me as they lower me down. They raise and lower me a few times letting it slide in and out of my wet pussy. Fucking me gently.
Now they lower me fully onto whatever phallic instrument they are using, so deep I feel it touch my cervix.
Then it starts swelling inside of me, expanding and stretching me. It is growing and pressing on my bladder and stomach. My stomach is expanding, it feels to be the size of a football. There is painful pressure everywhere including on my pussy exit. It will never come out that way! Not without ripping me apart.
They start lifting me again. Forcing this object against my pussy exit. No, No. It can’t come out that size!
Suddenly I shoot into the air as the object leaves my tormented hole. It must have been suddenly deflated, for there was no pain as it left me. My nipples come alive with pain though as they are jerked up and down by the weighted clamps, I cry out in pain. Then it all goes still as they lower me to the floor and remove the ropes and clamps. I cry out as they are removed and my circulation returns painfully.
Michael and his assistant walk me a few more yards and stretch me over what feels like a barrel. My head hangs low and my crotch is pointing forward. They are stretching my legs back around the sides of the barrel, further extending and exposing my aching sex. I feel pressure on my pussy and something slides into me, stops, and then starts moving in and out of my pussy in a slow metronomic motion. A fucking machine flashed through my head. The barrel is moved slightly, changing the angle of entry to my pussy, and I quiver involuntarily as my G spot is found. The adjustment stops.
Every stroke is running over my most erogenous area, tormenting me, teasing me. The tempo is changed, first slow then fast, now slow. Deep penetration, then shallow teasing strokes. Endlessly fucking me as no man can. I orgasm freely, having earned this pleasure.
Then it gets better, or worse. Gasping as an electric jolt runs through my body as a vibrator is applied to my throbbing sensitive and sore clitoris. I orgasm violently, thrashing against the restraints, screaming and moaning. This is all too much I scream and writhe, wishing for it to stop.
It doesn’t, they continue to assault my body for what seems like forever. Even as I scream and beg for the pleasure to stop. I decide you can have too much of a good thing and utter the safe word, but it won’t come to me! The torment continues, it is a wonderful pleasure but it is overwhelming me. Silence, peace, bliss, it’s over.
Michael and his assistant carry me off the barrel and lay me on the floor, which is wonderful until I feel myself being strapped down and spread-eagled open. No! what more can they do to me.
My mask is removed and from teary, blurry eyes I see a crowd of men above me. All wanking furiously, the first shots of cum striking me moments later, followed by a flood as they all unload over me. Hot sticky cum dripping and running over my body. These men finally finish and walk away, only to be replaced by another cohort eagerly wanking over me.
They too disperse and now it is the women’s turn as they come forward and start scooping up and eating the hot liquid covering my body. Or simply rubbing it into my skin, molesting me as they do. A woman goes down on my exposed sex and licks all the juices from around my hole, then proceeds to torment my already tormented clitoris, she very nearly brings me to another climax. The second lady to lick at my sex succeeds! Then they too drift away.
Michael comes back into view and whilst I am still on the floor, he wipes me down with a warm damp towel. How can something so simple be so good? He hands me the towel, and a bottle of water, once he releases me. I finish cleaning myself off. I look up at him, he smiles, picks up the lead, and marches me back through the club.
I look sideways and see a screen with us on it, I stop walking and stare.
“Oh the whole club has watched you tonight, and by tomorrow night the whole world will be able to see you, no need to worry, there will not be any recognizable shots of you” he grins.
He jerks the lead and I follow, back to the foyer where I am passed back to my mistress and master.
“That was excellent Michael, do you think she has the makings of a real slave?” master queries.
“I would think so, she did well tonight, I pushed her as far as I have ever pushed anyone for their first time, and she never faltered,” he confirms.
Well, that is not going to happen!
I glance at the clock. It’s nearly eleven o’clock! Three hours since we came in! I can’t believe it’s been that long. Sure the abuse seemed to go on for a long time, but I never thought it really had. Time flies when you’re having fun it seems!
My coat and shoes are returned. The collar is not removed! Mistress leads me out of the club by it.
“Don’t worry people around here are used to seeing this,” she assures me.
I look around furtively around as we stride back to the station, my coat flapping open on each stride. There is no one around, so I do not bother too much. The station is quiet too, with just a few staff leering and cheering at me. On the platform, I am ordered to sit on a bench and spread my legs. They sit opposite me and stare at my red and raw pussy as we wait for the train to arrive. Thankfully this too is deserted, I am ordered to open the coat, and stand in front of them as they sit and play with my body. Tweaking and pulling my raw lips and nipples, slapping my arse and legs, fingering my sore and tender hole. The journey seems interminable.
A quick walk through the streets and we are back at the hotel, coat gripped tightly around me as we enter, taking the lift. “Drop the coat,” the mistress orders.
I looked dumbly at her, the master rips it from me and slaps my arse hard.
“Never disobey, we still have a few minutes of you,” he berates. I walk naked to their door, and they enter leaving me naked in the hallway. I wait and at midnight my clothes are thrown on the floor before me! Brazenly I walk up to my room naked, sod them.
Soaking in my hot luxuriously bubbled bath I am musing over the last hours. I easily see why people get into the BDSM scene. The pain and humiliation are transient, the pleasure memorable. The downside is that you probably need more of each to keep getting the same excitement and pleasure. A downward spiral perhaps. Would I do it again? Oh yes. Would I like to wear the coat again? Yes again, in the right circumstances. Just as well they gave it to me then. Ken and I have thought about dogging at some point, it would be nice for that I think.
