The Private Collection {CLOSED}

[Fira]

The blow stunned her as she went sprawling. And while it had quieted her incessant denials of her situation, it did nothing to actually calm her. Anne quickly curled into a fetal position, her sobs silent even as they tore through her body.

“Useless cunt.” The derogatory name spun through her head, repeated over and over. No one had ever called her such names. In all honesty, no one ever really called her anything. She was the girl that your eyes slid over in a brief instant, quickly forgetting the face seconds later. The girl that was always on the edge of whatever was going on. She was a good student in school, but even her teachers tended to forget what her name was, looking puzzled for long moments after she would pass them in the hall and murmur a soft “hello”. The world slipped past Anne on a daily basis, as if it had forgotten that she might find something to enjoy in it if it would only slow down long enough to allow her to grab hold. Only her closest friends knew the true girl beneath the surface, and there really weren’t very many of them. Most had gone off to other colleges, to pursue their own dreams.

She tried to think if Maddie would wonder what had happened to her, and decided she wouldn’t.

They had planned to meet during spring break and make the week a memorable one, and they had done just that. The two girls had gotten together and partied long into the soft spring nights on the beach, and Anne had loved every minute of it. They had gone into clubs that they normally wouldn’t have had the courage to attempt, wearing cute little outfits that they had seen other girls wear. They kept to themselves for the most part, but on about the third night, Maddie had met some guy on the dance floor and they had started spending a lot of time together. Anne, as shy as she was around people she didn’t know, clammed up and just watched her friend enjoying herself. Once again relegated to the sidelines while everyone around her let loose and had fun. That’s when Michael had shown up.

Almost as if he had been waiting for an opportunity to approach her, it seemed. One minute she was sitting by herself in the booth, watching Maddie dancing with her new guy friend, and the next, this handsome man is asking if she minded him joining her. She looked rather lonely, he had said, would she mind some company. Unable to articulate a coherent sentence around a complete stranger, let alone a man that exuded such refinement and confidence, all Anne could do was nod her head. Somehow, he managed to drag her a little way out of her shell, whether it was the man himself or the alcohol he plied on her, she wasn’t entirely sure. But she found herself opening up and talking to him before long. He was very comfortable and easy to be around, and she found herself enjoying his company more and more.

They had sat and talked throughout the evening, and she was quite surprised that he was satisfied with just that. She found herself looking for him the next night, and the next, and he didn’t fail to disappoint her. As soon as Maddie was off in her own little world, Michael would show up and keep her company. It wasn’t long and Anne was open and teasingly fun with him as she was with her friends of many years, and she marveled on that fact, wondering just what it was about him that allowed her to be so at ease and relaxed around him.

Anne was suddenly pulled back into the present once again, the cold cement of the floor a rude reminder to the flesh heated by memory. She let the woman pull her head around to her lap, afraid that if she struggled she would be struck again. She tensed for a moment when Demi began to speak. Anne was having a difficult time reconciling the words the woman spoke now with her actions of a few moments ago and the blow to the side of her face. All the talk of Masters and Sisters was confusing enough, but the mention of being trained as a slave caused her to draw back, her head beginning to shake in denial again. Visions of every type swam through her head. From scrubbing floors in rags with chains keeping her in place, to working in fields til her hands bled, to…but she wouldn’t let her mind go there. She had grown up hearing horror stories about the sex slave trade that some young women found themselves a part of. She would just as soon be offered as a virgin sacrifice to some devil worship cult than be forced into sexual acts!

It was too much for her to take in at one time. Senses reeling from the blow, her head spinning and stomach churning from the hangover, the pain, fear, and uncertainty of her situation, it all finally got the better of her. Without warning, the alcohol and food that remained on her stomach from the night before came up in a torrent, completely covering the front of the woman just as she asked if Anne had any questions.

 

[Leopald]

Michael

As far as cleaning of sexual fluids was concerned, his first slave was generally quite reliable when tasked. She was so adept at cleaning without causing additional arousal, unless told. But this time seemed to be different, and Michael had missed it until the point had passed.

While standing there, a handful of his bitch's hair in his fist, she worked on his organ lovingly, attending to its cleaning with the devotion she always offered. But his mind wandered aimlessly, first to Angelique's actions in the garden, and then to a general curiosity about how his new acquisition was faring. Would Dee use a soft or firm hand on the new girl? Would she require much in the way of breaking, or would she accept her new role with ease. One thing was certain; Dee was very good at what she did for her Master.

He looked down to realize that his exerted manhood was growing erect once more, and he frowned at a shriveling girl at his feet. Rather, she would be shrinking, if not for the powerful grip his fist had in her deep red hair.

Whether or not he truly punished her for things such as this often depended on his mood. When he was stressed or frustrated, he couldn't be bothered with anything more than a general ignorance of his slave, entirely. He knew this usually hurt her more than most savage beatings and heavy berating. But when he was in a good mood, such as today, he absolutely relished giving the depraved slut exactly what she deserved.

Throughout the house, spread at random, were hidable tools and contraptions for ease of use. Like, for example, the removable hook in the center of the living room, where he was dragging the girl roughly by her hair. He wouldn't allow her to stand, nor could she keep up with his speed if she crawled, so he laughed mockingly as her legs tried uselessly to get beneath her body.

Upon their arrival, he threw her to the ground, narrowly missing the low table centerpiece of the living room set. He reached into a drawer of the end table and withdrew a nasty set of cuffs and a wicked-looking flogger, with its many heavy strands of leather hanging stiffly as he moved. The cuffs were around thin wrists, and a malnourished body was lifted effortlessly up. Her cuffs were run through the hook, and since it was too tall, her feet dangled in the air as she slowly spun helpless and naked before him.

It was then that he noticed Clara curled up by the window. He smiled softly at her, his eyes shining with glee. He knew she had nothing to fear from the sadistic side of him, as he never enjoyed punishing her. He only did so out of necessity, and never to this extreme. Turning back, he regarded his first slave once more.

The flogger landed hard on her flesh as she twirled slightly, striking savagely on every bit of exposed flesh over a dozen times before he paused. Nothing had been safe from the flogger's weighted blows, and her body was a pattern of angry red marks, from neck to toes. As her front passed again, his hand caught the chain connecting her piercings, and he pulled her forward with it, glaring menacingly into her eyes.

"You fucked up, cunt. You're lucky I'm feeling charitable..." The chain was released, and the flogger went to work once more.

 

[fuckmeat]

Her breath had caught as he dragged her into the lounge, his long stride so swift that she would have had to jog beside him even if he had let her stand. As it was she hung from his fist, scrambling after him until he flung her to the floor. She kept her eyes down as he fetched things, resisting her curiosity, terrified and excited in equal measure. When he was genuinely disappointed in her, she simply ceased to exist to him. Master could keep that up for days at a time when he chose to as well, leaving the other girls to sneak her enough food to keep her from collapsing while she drowned in self loathing and despair. She had a plastic tumbler by the sink and he never prevented her from drinking water... well almost never but when she was caged and utterly at his mercy her bodily functions were an inconvenience to him. However this might look to a bystander, they both knew it was not punishment.

She hung from the hook like the slab of flesh she was to him. There was virtually no meat on her bones though, nothing to soften the flogger blows that Master rained on her. Her pale flesh reddened and warmed as one bucked and whimpered. It was not incredibly painful but she had learned long before Master had gone to work on her pain threshold that when he dished out violence he expected to enjoy witnessing pain and fear. She could have been still and quiet but then there would have been no fun for him, so she dutifully played his game. He knew the difference between her writhing in masochistic pleasure and the coping mechanisms she employed when he seriously tortured her so there was no deception here. Hanging as she was, one was brought up level with his face. Usually her eye contact with him was strictly limited but this time she was free to drink in his malicious grin as he beat her and she slowly spun. Her arms began to pull but she wasn't strong enough to raise her upper body and mitigate the feeling that her shoulders were going to dislocate.

One spotted Clara in the windowseat as the room swirled around her. She was reminded forcibly of when Clara had first witnessed the nasty side of Master's 'play' with her. There had been something else on his mind altogether that day, something else he had been taking out on her and one never did find out what it was. Master rarely discussed his life outside their home with her and one never felt able to ask. He had been wound up tight even before she knocked an ornament and broke it while cleaning. One had knelt to gather the shattered pieces and Master's boot had connected with her ribcage, kicking her across the polished wooden floor to crash into a nearby wall. She had lain there, winded, until he dragged her up by her throat, pinning her to the wall with her feet off the floor, demanding to know how many of her pitiful meals it would take to replace his designer trinket. He'd been positively foaming at the mouth, not even one had ever seen him quite like it. He backhanded her viciously, busting her lower lip, then simply opened his fist and let her fall to the floor.

Ordinarily, that would be the extent of his wrath for a genuine accident. That day though, Master had just been warming up. She smiled inwardly as she relived the scene to distract her from the flogger strokes.

Master yanked on the chain connecting her piercings, making her arch painfully in mid air and pulling one back into the present as her tits and clit squealed in agony. He drew her close to him, eyeballing her as she hung there.

"You fucked up, cunt. You're lucky I'm feeling charitable..." Master told her. One knew he was acting in his own sadistic self interest but she wasn't about to say so. She tried once more to draw her upper body up a little and ease the pain in her shoulders but failed and hung there as he continued working on her. Now he was laying fresh welts over raw, swollen, tender skin. One began bucking and moaning with more conviction, swallowing hard and reaching inside her head for the rest of the punishment that Clara first witnessed, anything to help her handle the pain. There was never any telling how much Master was going to inflict. He could be done in moments or he could spend hours torturing her to correct her behaviour.

 

[monique_minx]

Mystery watched the new girl go to pieces with the information Dee fed her, she silently shook her head and clasped her hands at the small of her back. She said a small saving grace that this girl was not a fighter, not like Myst; Dee would’ve relished it. No, this girl was more for Angelique, scared and crying on the floor. Mystery had always imagined Clara had needed the soft touch like that whereas Myst had told Dee to go fuck herself on more than one occasion.

There was no shame in being terrified, Mystery had sometimes wished to know release like that, to cry and cuddle someone in a corner. She had never been a coddled child, never known a loving home, her parents had kept her at arm’s length from birth. She was their meal ticket and not more, life on the street had been harsh but the comparison to home made the streets easier for Mystery. Sucking Michael off was still the preferred choice to some old fat man with a two inch cock and a foot fetish.

Mystery was brought back to the present when Dee’s arms wrapped her, Myst’s eyes widened in shock and confusion, she stiffened and patted Dee’s back awkwardly. She was rarely hugged and wasn’t even sure why Dee had done it.

"Go let Master know that this one will take some time, and then please send me Clara. If you happen upon Angelique let her know that she will be needed in a bit. Oh and thank you."

Dee’s hand connected gently with her ass, Mystery struggled to hide her surprise as she bowed her head in respect, consent and subservience whilst exiting the room. She wasn’t sure why Dee was being so kind but could only guess that it had something to do with Anne’s behaviour and the room itself.

Mystery recalled her first time within its confines, she had rolled her eyes over the horror movie décor but found later that it served a purpose; to terrify its victim. She had smart mouthed Dee the first time she’d said her little speech and had been dismissive of the woman. Dee had ruined her first flogger that week, Mystery couldn’t keep her tongue in line and she would constantly forget the rules. Her first encounter with the Master had gone down just as badly, she’d been sarcastic and bratty from the moment he opened his mouth and her flesh had paid dearly for it. Still she was relentless. Myst smiled; lost in her memories as she entered the lounge room in search of Clara.

One had become the centrepiece of the room, Mystery licked her lips as the flogger came down on her flesh and she attempted to quell the rising desires within her. She moved over to Clara, trying to avert her eyes from the scene before her unsuccessfully. She tapped Clara’s thigh and gave her a small smile, leaning close to her.

“Dee wants you in the dungeon, I think it’s something to do with helping the new girl.” Myst whispered quietly in her ear, doing her best not to disturb Michael or One too much.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

Disgusting. That’s what this new girl was. Disgusting. Dee looked down at the slut in her lap; she stood up suddenly, dumping the filthy girl on the floor. Dee stripped off her clothes with a huff and threw them at the girl. Dee could smell it. She had, once in her early life been a C.N.A, she had dealt with piss, and shit and anything else the human body could throw at her, this, while disgusting, merely made her gag. Which she did, wrinkling her nose as she looked down at the girl and made sure she was covered in her own puke.

“You know what you filthy fucking cunt, you may have needed to puke, but there ain’t no reason for you not to have turned your head to politely puke all over the fucking floor. But seeing that you are nothing but a rude and useless little bitch, you decided to puke all over your sister.”

She sneered down at the puke and clothing covered slut on the floor, and circled her, her heels snapping at the concrete in a mad little clips the punctuated her anger. She wanted to hit her, to kick her, for the disrespect that Anne had shown.

But Anne did not belong to her, she belonged to the Master. So Dee contained her anger, most of it anyhow.

“If you want to be a filthy, useless, smelly little cunt, then you may stay here and rot, bitch.” Dee punctuated the point by spitting on the girl and then storming out the door and locking it behind her. She leaned against the door and caught her breath, before storming up the stairs, naked, and steaming mad.

She saw that the Master was busy beating One, and she nodded at Clara as she stormed past them all. Even He wouldn’t stop her if she was in one of her moods. She headed right to the shower, knowing her petite soeur would meet her when she was clean.

The shower did little to calm her, and Dee scrubbed her body ferociously, trying to get rid of the stink. The stink is what killed her, vomit smells like nothing else. She flipped her curls over and made sure the smell was out of them, she used the expensive soap that Michael had gotten them all when he had made a business trip last year and couldn’t bring them all with him. She usually saved it for nights that she was with Him, but today was just as well.

Stepping out of the shower Dee, toweled off her body, admiring herself a little in the mirror, her tattoo’s circled her body, and accented her curves rather than detract from them. She had several vines running up her legs, a butterfly on her back, and the Master’s initials on her breast. She applied her lotion, and padded into her room, to grab a new outfit, this time choosing a sleeveless cotton shirt, and a jean mini. Her shoes were ruined, and she didn’t really want to deal with heels in the basement, so she stepped into her flip flops.

Dee was getting ready to leave the room when she felt, rather than saw her little sister behind her. She smiled, softly.

“Clara, petite soeur, would you like to help me with the new girl? She’s being ever so rude.”

Dee turned from her room and reached out to hold the girl’s hand, which she squeezed softly when they finally fell into step together as they headed down the stairs. Dee said nothing, listening to the girl talk about her plants and what was going on.

Dee smiled and inclined her head to the Master again as they passed and headed back into the cellar once more. They stopped at the locked door.

“Hold your nose Little one. She made a mess. And if I can guess she’s probably made several more. We shall have to take a hose to her. And if you could the dishes have been broken, it’s my fault, sorry. Will you help me with them? ”

Dee was taking her time before opening the door; she wanted the little cunt to stew in her own mess.

 

[Mephistophelily]

Clara had merely peered over the back of the couch as she heard the commotion of Master and one, her eyes widening slightly before slinking back. She knew he would never treat her in that way, not unless she had done something horribly, horribly wrong, and even then, he was never as cruel to her as he was with one... but still, the sight and sounds of it left her a bit scared. One was used to this. It was her bliss, and Master's release. It had scared Clara the first time she ever bore witness to it, thinking that she was next on his list. She had wanted to run, hide, escape from what she saw... But couldn't find the way to make her legs move.

She had only been here a few days. She didn't understand.

The initial contact made after the innocent accident with his trinkets- Even that had scared her. But the continuation, the absolute anger and hell's fury unleashed over such a tiny little thing...

She had wanted to help her. Beg him to stop. But Ahm Dee had warned her, stay out of his actions with the other girls. Unless you are summoned, simply stay aside. But.... it was just... so...

Clara had learned to try and block it out. FInd something to clear her head. She tried, so incredibly hard, to keep things from bothering her. Even now, it was still so hard to do.

Mystery's arrival was a pure blessing. Her eyes widened as she looked up to the redheaded sister, quickly getting to her feet and hurrying out of the room. *Thank you,* She repeated over and over in her head, hurrying off to find Dee. Usually she could handle being around Master in that frame of mind, but that hook- it was always a thing of bad memories for her, and she herself had never even been attached to it.

...And there went Ahm past her.

She looked after her curiously, gasping as she saw the fury in the woman's eyes. What was that?! What has happened?!

She followed after her, trailing behind like a doting puppy. She waited at her door, listening to the shower, her fingers reaching up to play with her hair. Oh no. What had that horrible new sister done?!

Ahm soon left the room, smiling over to her and asking for her help. Clara immediately nodded. "Of course, Ahm Dee," She agreed softly, taking the offered hand and following her downstairs. "I would rather be with you right now, Ahm Dee... I had finished my flowers, all of the plants, and then Master and one came in and... I don't like being in there for that. It's scary. To see that look in his eyes..." She kept her eyes focused on Dee as they passed the room in question, shivering as she heard one yet again. To the basement, to the new, naughty sister.

"She did that to you, Ahm?," She gasped, her eyes widening as they worked their way down the second flight of steps. This girl was horrible, to do such a thing to Dee-! At the question of the dishes, she nodded firmly. She knew Dee had a temper to her... And from the sounds of it, New Sister had certainly envoked it. "I will help however you wish, Ahm Dee." She smiled at her, though it slipped away for a moment as she heard the girl still inside the little room.

 

[Fira]

She couldn’t even move. Being sick had left her feeling weak and even more miserable than before. She didn’t register the words slung at her, nor the filthy clothes that rained down upon her. She barely even noticed Dee getting up.

By the time the door closed behind the angry woman, Anne was lost in another time again, reliving the fun and companionship of the last week with Michael.

They had sat and talked for hours and hours. Politics, school, life, books, movies. She had bared herself to him in ways that she had no one else. She felt like she had known him all her life. They had laughed, danced, taken walks on the beach. And through it all, he had remained the utmost gentleman. He was never forward, vulgar, or in any way caused her to feel alarmed or uncomfortable.

She had unburdened herself to him about her family life. An only child of divorced parents who took little to no interest in her or her life. She excelled at everything she put her mind to, not because her parents expected it of her, but because she was striving to be noticed by them in any manner she could. And she refused to allow herself to sink to the lows that many of her peers in her situation did. Drugs, sex, partying till all hours. It just wasn’t her style. Oh, she had done her share of partying with her few close friends in the past, she confided to Michael one night. But she tended to prefer watching others and their silly antics to being an actual part of the scene. She had laughed as she told him this, explaining that being able to recount the events of the previous night to her friends, and the horror on their faces when they realized what they had done was the best part about it. She was the one that always remembered the night before. And her friends learned to count on her to keep them from doing the really stupid things that could really go wrong.

This time though, she was determined to not be anyone’s designated anything. Not driver, not conscience. It was her time. And Michael helped her with that. As long as he was providing the drinks, Anne kept drinking them. In her drunken stupor the night before, she confided to him her sexual fantasies. All of them. Still a virgin, all she had to go on were pictures and stories from others. And a few voyeuristic scenes that she had witnessed when drunken friends had turned a beer bash into an orgy. She was immensely aroused by the things she saw taking place in front of her, but her shyness wouldn’t allow her to participate. She couldn’t imagine actually having sex in front of others, or more than one guy taking her at a time, like she saw her friends doing…but damn! She would go home and masturbate furiously, wishing she had been the one in the middle.

Her body heaved once or twice more to no avail. Her stomach was empty, her head finally starting to ease. She managed to push the dirty clothing off of her and moved slowly across the floor away from the smell. She didn’t get very far though, before the door was opening again.

 

[Leopald]

Michael

As Michael was busy engaging in one of his many favorite workout routines, the living room seemed to spring to life more than usual. He chuckled at the timing, as Myst showed up, and he didn't miss the look of almost envy in her eyes, locked on the useless cunt as she passed. But he never missed a stroke when she moved past them to speak quietly to Clara, and the timid girl left the room as if on fire. He couldn't blame her, really, as public beatings and torture were never her thing.

No sooner had she left than a naked and fuming Dee came through like a rocket. Was that puke in her hair? She was followed by Clara, who had just apparently left to find her. Off to the shower, most likely. He wondered what this strange turn of events was, but was only half-focused on it as his flogger on his bitch's flesh was more important at the moment. It took him a moment to realize that Myst was still there, watching wide-eyed, no doubt. For different reasons than Clara, he knew.

A pause in the strikes came when Michael stepped towards Myst without turning and reached out a hand to catch her hair. After dragging her close, he simply held her in place while the flogger went back to work. He could have sworn he saw her lick her lips out of the corner of his eye, but it could have just been his imagination. As much as Mystery tried to hide or suppress it, Michael had noticed her masochistic tendencies long ago, but rarely, if ever, exploited them. Today would be an exception, and she probably had no idea.

The flogger finally fell silent, and he released Myst's hair long enough to reach up and pull One down from the hook. The seemingly broken girl hung in his arms as the cuffs were released and she was tossed easily onto the floor.

And then he was on Mystery, catching the closet-painslut's wrists and locking them into the cuffs the same way One's had just been. He accepted no fighting, paid no heed as he lifted her arms over her head and picked her up. Within moments, the 'working girl' was in the exact same position she had seemed to envy, complete with feet dangling above the floor. Except she was still wearing clothing.

Since he had bought all the clothing in the house, he cared little when he started tearing it from the squirming body.

"Time for some fun, fucktoy..."

 

[fuckmeat]

One hung there, a distant smile playing across her lips. She wasn't aware of the searing pain in her shoulders, nor the layers of agony Master was striping her tiny body with. There was sensation, an abundance of sensation but the adrenaline coursing through her coupled with the length of time she had been hanging there at his mercy meant that the pain was... incidental. Just as creatures in extreme danger can keep fighting and running even when seriously wounded, flying on pure adrenaline, so one's pain threshold had hit the wall and pounded through it. Her body was distancing her conscious mind from the pain, she felt each stroke and reacted to it but she felt the pressure and location more than anything, the heat of her red, welt covered skin. It was all just shades of sensation now and it all heightened her sexual arousal. She could have come many times by now, had he commanded her. Instead everything was pent up inside her slender form, dammed back but still there and still rising.

One wasn't even in the room with him any more. She was in that special zone her Master could send her to and only at these rare times when he used her in such a way. She couldn't go there if he was angry or disappointed in her and she couldn't go there if he required her to keep her wits about her and serve him. Only when she was bound, with no option but to take whatever he dished out could she slip into subspace. Her body was a web of sensation, the pain indistinguishable from the pleasure. She immersed herself in the flashback she had been enjoying, trying to occupy her conscious mind and keep everything from overwhelming her. To cum without permission would get her in the worst kind of trouble after all the training she had had in forcing her body to obey his will.

"Get up." Master had snarled the words at her, towering over her as she lay at his feet, physically shaking, her lower lip bleeding, he was daring her to defy him.

One had dragged herself to her feet without hesitation. Hesitation when her Master was in this kind of savage temper was a very bad idea. He had trapped her against the wall, crowding her with his taller, broader frame, slapping, backhanding and punching her upper body. He had only used a small degree of his strength but to Clara, it must have looked truly brutal as one's head ricocheted off the wall, blood welled from her lip and still she dared say nothing but "I'm so sorry Master." Over and over in her clipped British accent.

"Damn right you're sorry." Master growled. "You're the sorry bitch who flew around the world to beg me to treat her like shit." He laughed in her face. One nodded, her tears streaming freely now. She raised her skinny little arms again and again to shield herself, only for Master to smack them aside like bugs. "You think you're special cause you were the first, cause you were willing? You think being fucking stupid scores you points with me, huh? Look around you cunt, I got plenty of willing bitches with luscious tits and asses now, bitches with tight holes that I haven't fucked a thousand times. You know what cunt? I'm struggling to remember what the fuck you're for!"

Master gripped her chain and twisted it, curling it around his fist until she was doubled over trying to keep her tits and clit intact. He rammed two fingers into her and smeared her pussy juice across her face disgustedly, smacking it into her skin. Having laughed and shouted at her, he now bent to murmur low in her ear.

"You're not even really a submissive, you know that? You're just sick... fucked in the head. I got you all figured out too. I know everything you'll do and think, there's no fun even in beating your useless ass these days. You're predictable... and I'm bored with you."

He released her chain after a final spiteful tug and hooked one finger in her collar to make her lift her head and look at him. Master pushed one's head back and her body back down to her knees, towering over her as she stared up at him through her tears. Everything drained from his face; the anger, the mockery, the sadism and... the possessiveness. Master's eyes went dead and cold, his expression now totally indifferent to the shaking, sobbing, battered and terrified girl at his feet, whose pussy was wetter than her streaming, bleeding, juice smeared face.

"M-Master... please." She wept, crying harder than she had ever done for him before. One might as well have been beseeching a statue.

The man who had been her Master for five long years freed his cock and stood over her, stroking it in her face and choking her with his other hand. Even as he pleasured himself his gaze remained glacial, as though there was nothing at his feet but an empty patch of floor. One could only watch him, her face reddening, her hands futilely trying to dislodge his huge fist from around her throat. Before long her arms fell away, her eyes lost their abject terror and failed to focus. She tried to remember her own name and couldn't. Perhaps God would know. Her back arched and she came reflexively, her pussy convulsing and dripping onto the floor as Master blew his load into her face. Her eyes stung and closed as she lost consciousness. Master left her there, slumped against the wall.

One would later learn that it was only as he turned to stalk to the bathroom that Master saw Clara and realised she had been there the whole time. She was convinced he had committed murder and she had taken quite some calming. Dee had clucked over her for days, silently reproaching Master for traumatising her protege so.

One had dragged her own ass off the floor and to the bathroom, cleaning up the blood and cum and patching herself up. She then returned to clear away the broken pieces of the ornament, which were where she had left them. She had seen Master's eyes on her as he fussed over Clara but once he deduced there was no lasting damage his attention waned. Later that evening though, he had cornered one alone and lifted her into his arms, wrapping her legs around him and holding her against a wall as his hands roamed her slim body, checking her over himself. He kissed the livid marks rising on her neck and then claimed her mouth with his, invading gently but insistently past her busted lip as the strong arms that had attacked her earlier embraced her passionately.

"You're MY useless cunt, understand? Mine." He reminded her, before lowering her gently to the floor.

What Clara had also witnessed though, was the profound contentment that radiated from one's bruised and aching body in the days that followed. Master had put her on half rations for a week but even that didn't knock the happiness out of her. She had served him devotedly, even though the strict diet weakened her considerably.

One was still bleeding and crying and dying for Master as he unshackled her and flung her to the floor. Hitting the polished wood didn't even bring her back to the here and now. Master could have yanked her out of her daydream, though sometimes he did let things take their course, even pushing her further into the subspace zone with continuous, rhythmic stimulation like flogging or fucking, pushing one harder and harder, as though to see whether there was a point of no return, some place deep inside her head that she could never return from. They hadn't found it... yet.

She convulsed gently on the floor, more a violent shiver than anything. Her eyes were fixed on middle distance and they didn't blink. Her breathing was light and shallow, a reflexive afterthought. Her cunt was soaking, bereft and ready for him. She would come down and regain her senses on her own but without the neuro and psychological release of cumming, or her Master forcing her to focus it would take a little while.

 

[monique_minx]

Mystery Storm

Clara muttered her happy thanks over and over to Mystery as she scurried from the room in search of Dee. Mystery turned around with the intention of leaving but One’s face captured her attention, she was almost moaning and just gasping now. No screams were elicited though the red stripes couldn’t be wrong, it was painful and yet…she seemed to be…enjoying it?

“No way…” Mystery breathed out, inaudible to Michael or One with the sounds of the flogger falling against her skin.

Her eyes were locked on the scenario in some bizarre and twisted fascination. If someone had told her a year ago that she’d be witnessing this kind of thing? Much less participating in it? She’d have told them they were crazy and to lay off the drugs. She didn’t notice Michael’s sidestep, he never looked at her though the flogger fell by his side as his hand lashed out and entangled in her hair. She gasped and her eyes welled up as she moved closer to him in an attempt to alleviate the pain while he dragged her.

He just wants me to watch or something, Mystery thought to herself as he continued to work One over, his hand gripping Myst’s hair tightly; holding her in place. She watched as the flogger fell endlessly, red stripes slashing over pale skin while One seemed very far away. Finally it ended and Michael let Myst go in order to release One. Mystery stood up straight and stretched out a little, scowling that he’d forced her into a bend for so long.

He tossed One to the floor, Myst’s eyes were on her when Michael captured her wrists, she gasped with suddenly wide eyes as she attempted to step back from him. He didn’t take her silent ‘no’ for an answer, pulling her forward and up into the same position One had been in. Her feet dangling as her shoulder’s screamed in objection, the bite of the cuffs was severe and she raised her hands to grip the chain; trying to lessen the pain.

Her eyes bored holes into him as he moved in on her and began to rip the scant clothing from her body, the stringy covering falling apart in his hands easily. She writhed like the proverbial fish on a hook and glared angrily at him while he did it. He took it all too quickly, her teeth clenched hard when he stepped back.

"Time for some fun, fucktoy..."

The inevitable, involuntary shiver ran through her body as he called her that special little name he held only for her. She shook her head and bit her bottom lip, her body was a little more filled out than One’s but it was her height which made her seem a lot skinnier than she was. She wasn’t malnourished but the doctor did insist she was a little underweight. She ignored it as always, the doctor disliked everything she did with her life; every inch of it was unhealthy so why bother caring now?

“Don’t call me that…” She muttered, a deep blush rising in her cheeks as she hung there, her muscles tense and prepared for anything he might throw at her - so to speak.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

Dee wrinkled her nose as she entered the room, still holding Clara behind her, the smell was overpowering.

"Ugh. Alright. I hope she's done. It's time to sober her up."

Dee pointed to the shards of glass for her little sister and shook her head when she went to pick them up with her hands.

"No ma petite, the broom."

Dee stepped over the pile of vomit as she moved towards the hose in the corner, she turned it on, and began cleaning up the mess, careful of the spray, she got all of it down the drain and then turned her attention to the girl.

She held the spraying nozzle at her feet and wrenched the girl to standing. She realized that Anne couldn't stand on her own, so she dropped the hose, grabbed a nearby rope and bound the girl's hands, she pulled the girl's hands over her head and hooked the girls bound wrists to it, her feet barely touching the ground.

Dee smiled a very sweet content smile, as she turned the hose on Anne, she made sure the cold water doused the girl from head to toe and that any remnants from her mess where down the drain.

She may of washed the girl a little bit longer than was strictly necessary or spraying at the juncture between her thighs, for a moment just to see the girl squirm.

She turned the hose away, and smiled over at Clara, and turned her attention to Anne.

"This is your last chance, are you ready to train?"

Dee held the hose ready, for any onslaught or bodily fluid that might erupt from this girl.

 

[Leopald]

Michael

Michael stared at Mystery as she squirmed on the hook. She seemed upset to the untrained eye, but he wasn't fooled for even a moment. Breaking through her emotional shell was difficult, and he was still working at most of it, but he had learned some useful information since her arrival. Things which he knew she would rather keep hidden or ignore completely, he was pushing to expose everything for herself and his own pleasure. Like, for example, the fact that she seemed to respond rather well to pain and humiliation, which was why he'd chosen her nickname... Fucktoy.

“Don’t call me that…” was her usual protest, but he was getting tired of it. He gripped her jaw in his powerful fingers, and stared into her eyes, his nose nearly touching hers.

"I'll call you whatever I want, fucktoy. Don't forget, I own you... Now, eyes down. You don't deserve to look at me." He released her jaw roughly, and stepped back just a bit. The flogger brushed across her flesh, rising up her stomach before snapping back and flying forward to catch her right below the left breast. A chuckle escaped him, and he reached forward to catch a nipple in his fingers. The nub was pinched and twisted, and he watched her carefully for her reaction.

Unlike his treatment of One, which was generally savage and unpredictable, his treatment of Myst was more calculated, collected. Still unpredictable to her, yes, but not to himself. The flogger snapped again, and her thigh was caught this time. His eyes never left her form, as she slowly spun as One had. Her backside was exposed now, and three more flicks raked her skin, while the leather strands spread with each. But something was missing, and he sneered as he figured exactly what. He looked down at the pathetic bitch shivering on the floor, and reached down to scoop her up by the hair. She had obviously slipped from the realm of reality, but he needed her to snap out of it.

He growled softly in her ear, "Snap out of it, you useless whore. I have a job for you..." With that, her face was thrust in between Myst's thighs, before he even bothered to check if she was lucid enough to comply. He smiled at Myst while holding One's head in place. It was time to see how much she could take.

Soon enough, the slow strikes of the flogger continued, and angry red marks started to form on the captured girl, to match her depraved sister's.

 

[monique_minx]

Mystery Storm

Mystery’s face hardened up as he gripped her jaw and moved in close to her face, a bug could barely squeeze it’s way between their noses. Her misty chocolate eyes blasted him in spite of the pain he was inflicting on her jawbone.

"I'll call you whatever I want, fucktoy. Don't forget, I own you... Now, eyes down. You don't deserve to look at me.”

Several shivers ran down her spine, her skin reacting to him as she tried to fight the sensations coursing through her veins. He shoved her jaw back and sideways, her eyes dropping to the floor as she cursed him in silence for his hold over her. He loved using eye contact restriction on her and she could have sworn he knew how much she enjoyed it too but she’d never let that trickle of a smile be seen much less tell him. Behave Myst, just behave and don’t take the bait, you know the brat likes it far too much. Mystery told herself silently and let out a long, deep breath.

The flogger trailed over her exposed flesh and broke her from her thoughts quickly. It was a blur but the flair of pain was very sharp and precise when the whip landed beneath her right breast and caught the sensitive tissue that resided there. Her head snapped back as her mouth issued the soft cry and Mystery started to breath faster; remembering all that Dee had taught her about breathing through the pain.

Her head drooped back to the floor, her arms tensing around the dangling chain as Michael took her helpless nipple between his fingertips and proceeded to twist and squeeze it. Her eyes tightened and she bit down on her lip to suppress any and all noise he might force from her. Finally he released her and she started to spin, the joints in her arms screaming at her for the torture they were enduring as she held the chain tightly to alleviate it a little.

Mystery’s body responded to the flicks of the flogger with spasms as she breathed through the stinging pain. Her face had a bright red hue to it as she started to sweat from the many kinds of strain he was putting on her body. Mystery’s eyes widened and followed Michael to One as he wrenched her over to Myst’s vulnerable and suspended physique, forcing her between Mystery’s thighs. His smile could only be compared to that of a villain in a movie in that moment, Myst quivered and dropped her gaze down to One’s head; praying the girl wasn’t yet lucid enough to obey Michael and knowing at the same time that she’d do it robotically if she had to. A command from him would wake her from a six month coma!

His flogger continued to lash across her skin, licking flames of fiery agony over her powerless body but Mystery was determined and resilient even if she was incredibly aroused by what he was doing to her - she would do anything to ensure he didn’t see that. She’d die if he commented on it, humiliation was a severe weakness for her as well as the pain and she’d be damned if he was going to take advantage of it as well.

 

[fuckmeat]

One

"Snap out of it, you useless whore. I have a job for you..."

One was yanked up by her hair and bucked violently, feeling like she was falling. She barely had the time to focus her eyes before Master buried her face in Mystery's cunt. He held her head in place, partly to exert pressure and urge her to do her job but also because One would have found it hard to hold the position as her body shivered. She was barely able to breathe, pressed as she was into Mystery's wet, fragrant flesh but One was used to that. She snatched fractions of breaths through her nose as her mouth went to town on the other girl's pussy. Her tongue flickered over Mystery's clit, applying as much pressure to it as she could. One lapped up the juice leaking from Mystery's lips and occasionally moved to push her tongue right up inside the other woman, while her nose pressed and rubbed her sensitive clit.

One's own pussy was still soaking and aching, desperate to be filled by Master's cock. Now that his attention was on Mystery, he was unlikely to fuck her but One's cunt leaked wantonly anyway, trickling slowly down her inner thighs. Her hips bucked slightly with the same rhythm she applied to Mystery's pussy, her back arched and her body still in a high state of arousal.

Master started raining flogger strokes on Mystery once more and each one rocked through Mystery's body as One worked on her. One moaned into Mystery's pussy as she imagined the flogger falling on her instead. Her flickers and sucks to Mystery's pussy, along with the circling of her own hips fell into the staccato that Master set for them.

 

[Fira]

She didn't even bother to look up. She let out a yelp of surprise when Dee's hand grabbed her and yanked her up. And as soon ass she realized what Dee was about to do, she began to struggle weakly. Once shhe was hanging by the hook in the wall, she lost all hope. Images flashed through her mind of the death she was expecting at this point. Dee could spout all the pretty words she wanted, but that didn't make any of them true.

Anne wondered how long it would be before anyone missed her, if they did at all. She had a habit of disappearing for weeks on end when she was stressed out about something and just wanted to escape. Probably it would be her teachers that noticed her absence before anyone else. Even when she went silent on her friends, she still showed up for classes.

She cried out as the cold water hit her body, twisting in her bonds to try to get away from it. Warm tears coursed down her cheeks, replacing the icy water in slow trails. It wasn't long before the stream of water at her thighs had her squirming for other reasons. She went limp when the onslaught stopped.

"This is your last chance. Are you ready to train?"

Anne raised her head slightly to look at her tormebtor. If it would giive her a chance to possibly escape, she would do whatever was asked of her. A small nod was the only response shhe could muster from her battered body. She let her head drop again, her mind wandering off again.

 

[Leopald]

Michael

The flogger fell silent, and cluttered to the ground, discarded and forgotten rather quickly. Michael's strong hand ran up from Mystery's pelvis along her stomach and finally rested on an abused breast. Fingers squeezed, then withdrew to lay a heavy slap on the flesh. His mouth drew close to her ear, as he unleashed his weapon over her. Humiliation.

"Admit it, fucktoy... Even without the bitch lapping at your cunt, you would still be sopping wet, wouldn't you?" His voice lowered in a mock growl. "Secretly, you're just a sex-hungry little slut... That's why you got into porn in the first place, isn't it? Get paid to do what you crave... Yeah, that sounds like something a true sopping little whore would do."

He hadn't really indulged in a whole lot of humiliation with Myst before, but he was growing impatient with her overall separation from the house. It seemed no matter how much he or the others tried, there was always an emotional barrier protecting her from truly opening up and enjoying her life. Michael doubted very much she would actually leave if given the chance, but she always seemed like she was ready to. It was like she was waiting for something; either to get bored or tired of the lifestyle, or maybe...maybe something to force more out of her. He could tell the girl had so much more, a deeper level of submission hidden under carefully crafted layers of brattiness and emotional withdrawal. If only he could unlock that inner devotion, peel back the facade and show her and everyone else what truly lie beneath. The key hadn't been found yet, but he had a feeling that humiliation was the beginning to unlocking her heart.

The hand that had slapped the breast closed on it once more, this time pinching and rolling a nipple. One thing he knew for certain was that she couldn't cum by oral stimulation, and she would soon be desperate for that release. And he didn't intend on granting it to her yet. Not until she got a bit more compliant in their session, at least.

"And here you are now, strung up like a piece of meat in the middle of a living room, leading a slave's lifestyle when you could leave at any time. Why do you stay, fucktoy? Why do you put up with wearing next to nothing, with having a collar around your neck at all times, sharing one man with so many other girls?" The nipple in his fingers was tugged hard, before another slap to the breast was made. All the while, he watched his first's head moving slightly as she ate the captive cunt dutifully. "Do you enjoy this? Some part of you, deep down, that knows what you really are? Tell me..."

His face set in determination as he grabbed both nipples and pulled them away from her body, stretching the already tortured tits lewdly.

"Answer me, fucktoy."

 

[monique_minx]

Mystery could barely pay attention to Michael’s wayward fingers as they made their travels up her flesh. She was far too distracted by the woman between her legs for that, One’s ministrations saw no sign of slowing and Mystery was unable to cum on oral alone. Each time One’s mouth passed over her clit, Mystery’s pelvis jerked while a soft cry was issued from her full red lips. As Michael’s hand came down on her chest however, Myst was brought back to him by its painful sting. She held her breath for a moment and then checked herself as she released it loosely, trying to remember the last time anyone had really taken her on for an actual scene like this. His voice made her forget everything else though.

"Admit it, fucktoy... Even without the bitch lapping at your cunt, you would still be sopping wet, wouldn't you? Secretly, you're just a sex-hungry little slut... That's why you got into porn in the first place, isn't it? Get paid to do what you crave... Yeah, that sounds like something a true sopping little whore would do."

Mystery moaned, her mouth agape as One went for her clit again and she clenched her jaw, looking at Michael who could probably see the spreading blush he’d caused. She was struck with so many sudden desires; one was to retort with something sarcastic which was nigh impossible thanks to One’s mouth being latched to her cunt. Another was to look away from him, to hide her humiliation from him but her stubborn pride forbade giving him the satisfaction of that. She wanted to be angry at him but that was a defence mechanism, she couldn’t lie so to say he was wrong wasn’t allowed; he wasn’t technically incorrect about her. Mystery finally decided to hold her silence; fuck him, he wasn’t getting shit out of her.

His hand closed around her helpless nipple and he started to pinch and roll it, forcing Mystery to get a better grip on the chain as she moaned some more. One didn’t have to hold a thing back, there was no danger of Myst cumming if One went all out on her cunt; something One was particularly skilled at and even Mystery could feel that much. Her body reacted to the stimulation as any other woman’s would but it couldn’t push her over that edge. Her eyes flickered back to Michael as he started speaking again.

"And here you are now, strung up like a piece of meat in the middle of a living room, leading a slave's lifestyle when you could leave at any time. Why do you stay, fucktoy? Why do you put up with wearing next to nothing, with having a collar around your neck at all times, sharing one man with so many other girls? Do you enjoy this? Some part of you, deep down, that knows what you really are? Tell me..."

She jolted and cried out with the slap, the sensations were beginning to overwhelm her as the desire for release grew fast. She didn’t want to fake an orgasm, she wanted a real one and it didn’t matter how much she pushed against One’s face or bucked, writhed or squirmed on the chain; it just wasn’t going to happen.

She was determined not to answer him though and her face read as much, he seemed to get the message because he took both of her nipples and started to pull them away from her body. When he got a certain distance, it began to hurt and fast! Mystery hoisted herself higher on the chain and thrust her breasts out as much as possible but it was useless because Michael just shuffled backward further. Mystery’s eyes welled up in tears of pain, One’s attentions never waned, she just moved with Mystery, seemingly attached to the cunt she was working on. Myst almost wanted to kick her for her devotion to the task but at that moment she was just about the only reason Mystery wasn’t screaming her head off in pain. Her cunt gushed with more of her juices, flooding One’s mouth with her arousal and Mystery eyed Michael off before her face contorted painfully, her eyes pleading with him in silence.

"Answer me, fucktoy."

Mystery shook her head vigorously, crying out as he continued to pull and a curtain of tears washed down her face, “Yes! Fuck! Stop! I’m a fucking whore and I know it! Stop! Sir! Ahhh…” She gasped and panted heavily, it didn’t help her case any that her chest moved in and out like that as he pulled either, it only served to further the pain.

 

[fuckmeat]

One did not know Mystery well enough to be aware that she couldn't cum through oral. She was therefore beginning to panic... and fantasise... that Master would punish her for not doing her job properly. Mystery was clearly highly aroused and her cunt was leaking hot juice into One's mouth as she swayed with every movement the cunt made, never letting up the pressure or pace, snatching fractions of breaths through her nose so she could devote herself completely to her task.

"And here you are now, strung up like a piece of meat in the middle of a living room, leading a slave's lifestyle when you could leave at any time. Why do you stay, fucktoy? Why do you put up with wearing next to nothing, with having a collar around your neck at all times, sharing one man with so many other girls? Do you enjoy this? Some part of you, deep down, that knows what you really are? Tell me..."

One's own cunt was soaking and aching as Master taunted Mystery. She never had been able to resist that sardonic fucking tone of his, it melted her into a pool of depraved lust every time... except this one, as it wasn't directed at her... yet. One's hips began bucking on air as she drew Mystery's quivering clit into her mouth yet again, sucking hard on it and lashing her tongue over it. She began to wonder whether she should start fingering Mystery for good measure but all the signs were telling one that the other girl was on the brink. If Master told Mystery to cum, perhaps then One would thrust three of her small fingers up into the soaking cunt but for now One knew she was part of Master's game. He wanted Mystery to beg for it and being Master, there was no guarantee that he would indulge her even if she did.

One's upper body continued to work rhythmically, all her strength going into pleasuring Mystery even though her tongue and lips were tiring and her neck ached terribly. If Master left her there all day to suck Mystery's cunt, One would do so, welcoming the pain and drinking Mystery's delicious juices until her muscles seized up completely or she collapsed.

Master had once tasked One with punishing herself, handing her a vicious leather cat and making her cast it over her shoulders to flog her own back. She couldn't even remember what her transgression had been that day but she would never forget that punishment. Master had stood over her, telling her how he wasn't even going to lower himself to touching her, how utterly depraved she must be to flog herself at his command... and how truly pathetic she was to get wet as she did so. He had strode away to answer a phonecall, as the girls never answered his phone. Then he became distracted by Dee, catching her in the kitchen and doing things to her that made the pans rattle and the kitchen table gradually scrape across the floor while she moaned for him. By the time Master had returned to One she had flayed her back bloody. She was exactly where he had left her, struggling to swing the heavy leather cat by this time but letting gravity deepen the lacerations to her back again and again. Dee would have taken the cat by force and made her stop but Dee had been... occupied.

Master had never acknowledged that he had forgotten about her, nor suggested that she had dished out anything more than a fitting punishment to herself. On returning to see her in such a pitiful state, his first impulse had been to laugh at her. Master had even watched her deal out a couple more exhausted strokes before he finally took the cat from her hands. Dee had treated her back and then One had spent the rest of the day disinfecting the cat before lovingly rubbing leathercare cream into the tails that had abused her so brutally. Master had exercised caution since then though, and rarely left her with a task that she could perform indefinitely. One was simply too strongly hardwired for blind obedience where he was concerned. Like an OCD sufferer, she could not make herself stop and if anyone but Master tried to intervene she became distressed and even combative.

“Yes! Fuck! Stop! I’m a fucking whore and I know it! Stop! Sir! Ahhh…”

Mystery's cunt convulsed on One's face and One went nuts on it, convinced that the other girl was going to cum. Mystery should know better than to cum without permission but that wasn't One's concern. She had been tasked with pleasuring Mystery and would do so to the best of her ability, whether it landed the other girl in trouble or not.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

Dee

Dee watched the girl on the chain and shook her head. No fire. This one was all weak. She might have puked on Dee as some sort of retribution but Dee wasn't impressed. Dee smirked and turned her attention to her little sister, Clara.

She was tempted to walk out of the room, and go upstairs with her sister. She couldn't believe that she was already this bored with the new girl. Dee smiled inwardly and thought of Mysts first days, the howling and screeching filled the house. She swung between happy and pissed she couldn't leave. Dee relished every opportunity to swing a flogger at her. There was never a dull moment.

And Clara. She looked over as the girl dutifully cleaned up the mess, that was great too. She was so terrified as she came through the door, but the two of them took to each other right away. And it was rare that Dee needed to even flog the seemingly innocent girl. Her first days had been easy, but filled with raw emotion as Clara worked past her previous issues and came to trust those in the house.

Their best moment consisted of a tear filled drumming session. Dee had used the rhythmic pounding to relax the young girl, the sticks creating a sort of cadence that echoed the heartbeat. Dee had applied this up and down her legs and back. She waited and watched as Clara clung to the pillow under her, and then finally broke. The tears pouring down her cheeks, then Dee knelt and held her as Michael flogged the now warm back, finishing the scene. They cried in each others arms, and Dee was hooked. As much as the others intrigued and made her happy, she adored her little sister.

Dee moved over the wet concrete and ran her hand softly over the girl's cheek. Dee took the tray from Clara and set it on top of the table, and led her to stand in front of Anne.

"Clara this is your new sister. Now she doesn't believe that we are here to take care of her. How would you tell her? Shall we show her?"

Dee kissed Clara's cheek and was vaguely aware of the Anne's eyes on them. Hopefully this one perked up, otherwise, she wouldn't need to do much, just hand the limp girl over to Michael.

 

[Mephistophelily]

Clara barely looked up as she worked on cleaning the mess, hating to hear Ahm Dee having such troubles with this new sister. The sound of the hose made her shiver and cringe, trying hard to keep her attention on the broken dishes instead. Oh, why did New Sister have to fight? It wasn't like things were truly that horrible here. If she just gave it a chance, maybe she could see that. But no, she had to fight and argue and be terrible.

It nearly brought Clara to tears.

The sudden silence after the hose surprised her, causing her to steal a quick glance over to see if New Sister was even awake still. Had she fainted or something? No, she was still with them, nodding and just hanging there. Looking back to her pile of broken pieces, she scooped them onto the tray, glancing up in surprise as Ahm took it from her, a hand brushing her cheek. Clara just smiled softly, getting to her feet as the woman led her closer to the new.

Oh, no. She didn't want to get closer. But if she tried to do anything mean to Ahm again, Clara would certainly do her best to protect her. Horrible new girl.

She listened to Ahm Dee as she explained things in her calm, loving tone, Clara glancing to the new arrival with a somber look in her eyes. "Of course, Ahm Dee...," She replied softly, a light smile managing to make it across those features as lips touched her cheek. "I think she's very wrong... Sir and youself- you both treat me very well. I've never been happier than I am with you, Ahm. You're both- No. No, everyone here... They're all my reasons. Even if I don't quite understand some of my sisters at times... I love them all."

 

[Leopald]

Michael

The admission from Mystery made him smile coldly, and he dropped his hands from her body. This was what he needed from her, and what he had received; a full acceptance of what she really was on the inside, what she craved to be for him. His green eyes narrowed and gazed at her for quite a while, and the entire time, he could see his first bitch still going to town on Myst's cunt. She had to be close and needy by now. But he let her hand for another few minutes, saying nothing, doing nothing, content to watch and wait.

Michael knew from experience that One would continue eating that displayed cunt till her tongue fell off, if he let her. It was her type of service that demanded she give her all in an effort to be viewed as more than just a worthless set of holes by her owner. Of course, if he ever did display that he valued her even a little, she would feel she didn't deserve it. This was the lifestyle she needed, this was what made her whole, and gave her a sense of belonging. And he wouldn't have it any other way, to be perfectly honest.

Finally, his hands reached up and settled on the cuffs holding Myst in place. The movements were slow and deliberate, the latches coming undone gradually, knowing that even taking this much time would be more tortuous to the strung-up plaything. Still, he took his time in releasing her from the bonds. After what seemed like forever, the girl's wrists slipped free of the cuffs and attached hook, and he caught her in his arms. He used his foot to brush the whore on the floor away, then dropped Myst in a pile unceremoniously. He crossed his arms and gazed down at her, a crooked grin crossing his lips. This was going to be fun, and would seal the deal for the session, for sure.

"If you want to cum, then finger your little cunt. Play with your clit and scream for your owner, fucktoy."

He watched and waited, arms crossed, while fairly certain she would do just that. His hand came down and drew One's head close to his hip, and to his hard member. It had been a fun session, and the evidence was in his body as well, though not as much as the other girls'. But it didn't change the fact that he wanted his own release. He slipped the head of his shaft in between One's surely tired lips and began guiding her head in a slow rhythm. She knew there would be no disappointing him in this, so she had better give her all to his pleasure, as she always did.

His eyes never left Myst, though.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

Dee

Nothing Clara said roused the girl. She turned her little sister and kissed her softly again. Dee felt the passion run through her, she was usually this way. Give her the chance to paw her sisters and she was always interested. Give her the chance to paw at Michael and invariably things got broken. Poor One, having to clean up the messes she and Michael made.

She chuckled softly in Clara's ear, thinking of Him. Her hands sliding down her sister's back, teasing fingertips.

She had been baking, not that it happened often because Dee, while immaculate and amazing with a flogger, couldn't cook to save her life. But she was trying, and the kitchen had been proof of her efforts, there was flour everywhere. Michael had come home from work to find her frustrated and he had laughed at her. Dee of course had decided to paint his nose with flour, in retaliation of his laughter. So he dumped a bowl of it on her head, still laughing at her, stunned, she kissed him.

Distracted, Dee ran her fingers through Clara's hair and pulled her closer, leaning down to kiss the girl's shoulder. Her lips soft and pressing against the skin, feeling Clara shiver in her arms.

He kissed her back, and it was on. She jumped up on the island in the kitchen, and pulled him close, loosening his tie and tossing it aside, pulling open his shirt, and dripping chocolate on his chest to lick it up, he was still softly chuckling at her, but let her lick the syrup from his skin.

Dee still had Clara close to her, and she couldn't help but push her against the wall, and pull Clara's leg around her hip, dipping her head to place soft little kisses on her lips, while their bodies pressed together, their kisses were light, barely there.

She had pulled him between her legs, shaking her hair out, and covering them both with flour. His kisses were beginning to sear her brain. He knew and pulled her harder against him. She quickly obliged and opened his zipper, freeing him from his pants. He growled at her, she shivered, and lifted her skirt, pulling her panties aside so he could have her. He did, shoving his length deep within her. She cried out, and flipped her head back, tossing another layer of flour over the kitchen.

A deep breath, an even deeper kiss, pressing them together, her hands in Clara's hair. Tightly coiling it around her fingers, sliding her other hand up and down the back of her sister's thigh.

Michael had shoved himself into her, grunting her sobriquet over and over in her ear. Her nails ran up his back, until he pushed her back onto the island and pulled her top down, filling his hands with her breasts, pinching and rubbing.

Clara's soft sighs filled Dee's ears, and pushed her further, nibbling on the girl's bottom lip, dancing her tongue over the now sensitive lip. Tasting her sister, pulling her head back, so that Dee could drag her teeth over the gentle curve of her sister's neck. Listening for the soft intake of breath.

Dee left her hand prints in the flour, she left them on her body. They were both covered, sitting up, she sunk her teeth into his shoulder. He gasped and grabbed her ass, lifting her and slamming her into the cupboards fucking her against them.

Dee came up for breath, moaning with the effort of pulling away. "Oh Fuck, little one." She smiled down at her sister, and ran a finger down her cheek. "You are simply irresistible."

They had been found like that when the girls returned. One had waited for Michael to slam his release inside Dee, then she started cleaning up the kitchen. While He went and showered, Dee had calmly, while blushing, helped her to clean.

Taking Clara's hand into hers, she looked at the new girl, who hung there limply, one eye watching the two of them.

"You're Master's problem now. Shall we go sister?"

 

[monique_minx]

Her admission seemed to appease him and Michael released her nipples, allowing her body to hang limply from the chains, swaying back and forth while One’s tongue never went a second without a movement. Her jaw must’ve been killed her by now but Mystery couldn’t think on it, she was going mental with the amount of stimuli she was receiving and still unable to orgasm. It left her in a state where she could no longer suppress the moans or the desperate whimpers that slipped from her lips and still, he stood there. He stood there knowing as he watched her, seeing her despondency and he revelled in it. Mystery hated him but didn’t, she couldn’t admit it but having him watch her suffer with her ecstasy was such a turn on. Her idiotic cunt didn’t seem to understand that it was not a normal thing and it continued to gush as he regarded her.

Her eyes were pleading helplessly with him, she refused to beg him anymore than she already had; pride is such a limiting sin. He made slow steps, every motion was at snail pace as his hands lifted to release her from her bindings and if Mystery could do more than moan her ravenous need; she’d have bitten him viciously for it. It took an eternity, those few minutes played out forever before she finally fell into his arms, her legs continuing to spasm in his hold. One was detached from her cunt at last and then Mystery felt the give in his arms as he dropped her on the floor without a care. Her side split in agony but her mouth merely delivered a groan of acceptance when she hit the floor and slowly rolled onto her back. She looked up at Michael and saw that grin as he folded his arms, it sent a sliver of fear spiralling through her body and she closed her eyes for a second when it happened.

Fear had the strangest effect on Mystery, most people scream in terror or run away, their skin crawls or they edge back. She didn’t do any of those things. When Mystery was afraid; she was aroused. Her sex drive would go into overdrive and it had delicious repercussions for her but it was something she tried to hide; it was humiliating but being afraid of Michael was something that had drawn her to him faster than anything. She feared so little and yet the fear of what he could do to her if he wished it was what kept her chained invisibly to him. The moment passed and she opened her eyes to the sound of his voice.

"If you want to cum, then finger your little cunt. Play with your clit and scream for your owner, fucktoy."

She couldn’t stop it, the inevitable whimper, the eyes peeled wide as they looked up at him and the quivering of a lower lip as it drew in and sunk beneath her teeth. She feared this humiliation above all and god, how she hated him for this. Her body had been teased without release to the brink of insanity and this was just how he wanted to push her over. She couldn’t masturbate in front of others; it was an extreme humiliation for her and his eyes didn’t make this any easier. One wasn’t watching her so much as focused on the cock between her lips but Michael was staring down at her, expecting her to do this and knowing she’d crack. He would win this either way. If she was stubborn enough not to comply then she was left on the edge with an aching cunt and he had won. If she did then she had obeyed and he had won.

Mystery’s hands sunk down and her left overlapped her right while her middle and index finger over her right hand started to work her clit over. Her left applying the required pressure to get her there. It didn’t take very long before her legs were tensed and trembling violently, her moans exceeding normal volume and her ass was lifting clear off the ground. She couldn’t look at him though; she’d closed her eyes and turned her head away should her eyes open at all. If she looked at him then she’d react as aroused, a purr or growl she couldn’t cease and she knew it. Myst kept her head turned firmly until the moment she shot her eyes up at the ceiling and her spine curved into an arch.

“Mmmm fuck! Please let me cum Sir! PLEASE!” She screamed out on the very precipice of her orgasm; always ask permission…that had been a lesson she’d not forget because Michael had very limited patience for orgasming without permission and her skin had bore the damage for a very long time to follow.