© Copyright 2010 - Torquemaster - Used by permission
Storycodes: Sbf; M/f; F+/f; bond; rope; cuffs; bdsm; tease; slaves; toys; oral; mast; cons/nc; XX
The “Ding” of the elevator bell announcing the cars arrival on the third floor shook Carrie out of her trance. So dazed was she by the maze of thoughts and feelings rushing through her brain she didn’t even remember what she had been day dreaming about. She looked down at the note on the piece of paper Mark had left in her mail box. It was a full page of instructions. She read the room number, 315. She didn’t need that information though. She had been here before. She knew the room well. She had even called it “Their room” even though she knew it belonged to the hotel she felt like it belonged to them because of the “special” things they had done there. Tonight would go well beyond the bondage games they had experimented with in the past. Tonight would be her graduation night.
She gazed at the dull reflection of a beautiful young girl in the stainless steel wall of the elevator. She admired the full curves of her body, the full breasts billowing out of the tight low cut top, the long wavy dark hair. This was such a lovely, innocent girl. How had she come to this point? What crazy twist of events could bring a young naive college girl just days past her 22nd birthday to even consider what she was about to do. Carrie’s mind began to glaze over as her eyes darted back and forth like searchlights reaching out for someone to help save her from this storm swirling in her head. The eyes shifted from Mark’s note, to the heavy bag slung over her shoulder, to the numbers on the hotel door before her just across the hall.
The elevator door clanged against the duffle bag slung over her arm. It was trying to close and the bag was pinched between the door and the frame. The rattle of the handcuffs and chains in the bag woke her from her trance and she realized the bag was caught. Swiftly she yanked on the bag causing it to make such a clatter that she looked down the hallway to see if anyone had heard the racket. The door released its victim and opened once again. This time Carrie found the courage to step out into the hallway and come face to face with the door to room number 315. Her fate lay just beyond this door.
Once again her mind faded back to a time only a few months ago, yet it seemed so long now. She was dancing in a gentleman’s club in a small mid western city. It was nothing big or fancy. She would never make her fortune there, but it paid the bills, kept her one step ahead of the landlord and made the college tuition payments. Besides she liked dancing, it was fun, she met lots or interesting people, (for the most part) and even when some guy got too fresh she was a tough girl and knew how to handle herself. One night when a guy started groping too much she hit him so hard it knocked him out cold. She also liked the power trip dancing gave her. When she was doing a lap dance for a guy SHE was in control. She would occasionally let a guy get pretty fresh with her in the private dance room but only when SHE was having fun and he did the right things to turn HER on.
On the first night she met Mark at the club she sensed he was different. He was not young, he was not well built, and he was not unattractive but not what you would call sexy. Yet there was an air of confidence and power that surrounded him. They talked a long time and soon he had cleverly transcended the conversation down the pathway to a level of erotica she had never known existed. She found herself telling him personal details she had never told any lover before, even her closest girlfriends would have been shocked by the frankness of their conversation. It was as if she was hypnotized by this man. Bondage had been a word she had never used before yet like many girls she owned a pair of handcuffs and had been tied to the bed on several occasions during sex with different partners. She liked it, it turned her on, but she never understood the psychology of why this was such an intensifying experience.
Here was a man who not only understood this phenomenon but practiced it, lived it and had even written erotic stories and produced videos about bondage experiences. Her mind was soon swimming in a flood of new phrases, expressions, ideas, and visual images she never knew existed. As they talked her hand drifted to her crotch and she touched wetness that she had not expected. She looked down at the skimpy bikini top that tried to contain her large swelling breasts and she noticed her nipples were very hard and straining to tear thru the front of the material. The outlines of her small nipple rings were clearly visible thru the flimsy cloth. She looked up at his eyes and suddenly realized he had stopped talking and was staring at the perfectly formed impressions of her ringed nipples in the front of her bikini top as well. A smile formed on his lips and she asked him if he wanted to go in the back for a lap dance. He replied that he thought she would never ask.
Carrie was experienced at this business having been a dancer for several years and possessing the perfect body for her craft, so it was easy to execute her routine and she had it down cold. She knew how to start out slowly with the customer, keeping her distance and his touches just out of reach. Stripping each piece of clothing slowly and moving in closer and closer, letting him feel her breath on him but making sure his hands remained at his sides. SHE could control the pace and build his excitement slowly, stretching this routine out over several dances and extracting every dollar the man had until he had willingly emptied his wallet out on her. All of this went immediately out the window with Mark. For reasons she did not understand she quickly stripped off all of her clothes down to her g-string. Mark sat still on the couch and extended his arms to touch her. She moved in close to him and pressed her full breasts around his head. Instead of just doing the usual grinding of her breasts on the side of his ears she pulled back after that and swung her huge nipple ringed breasts back and forth raking the tips of her nipples on his thick mustache. This not only surprised and pleased him but the course hairs of the mustache stroking the tender tips of her nipples set them on fire.
Meanwhile Carrie wrapped her legs around his thigh and began grinding her pussy into his jeans. She was going to get off on this guy! He wrapped his arm around her and drew her in, pulling her nipples to his lips. His tongue licked the tip of each nipple over and over again teasing them and making them even harder until they ached for more. It was like their brains were connected. He sensed her passion growing and at just the right moment drew her nipple deep into her mouth and began sucking on it. He sucked, nibbled and stroked each engorged little bud with an expertise she had never felt before. My God she thought, this man knows his nipples. It was like he understood everything she needed, everything her breasts wanted.
Carrie always had sensitive breasts. That is why she had gotten the nipple rings long ago. But this man knew how to take those rings and use them to drive her nipples wild. Together they set her nerve endings on fire and pushed her further then any man had before. Then he suddenly stopped and withdrew his mouth from her nipples. He leaned back and moved his eyes up and down the quivering bundle of nerve endings before him. He had her right where he wanted her now.
What the fuck was this! Carrie though. Why did he stop? She had totally forgotten they were in a strip club. Had he been counting the songs, she had lost stack? Was he out of money? At this point she didn’t care if she got paid or not she just needed his mouth back on her nipples. She was about to speak when he leaned forward and kissed each nipple while his hand went to his back pocket. Carrie though, Fuck its over, the prick is going for his wallet. Damn, this guy gets his rocks off bringing a girl to the edge and then leaving her high and dry. This sucks! Then his hand appeared and she saw dangling from it a pair of shiny steel police issue handcuffs. Now some girls would have screamed at this point “Shit I’m busted” for the contact they had made at this point was well beyond the laws of the town they were in. Carrie however knew that was not the case. She knew from their earlier intimate discussions that Mark was into Bondage though he had not mentioned that he was “Packin” it was no surprise to her. One look in his eyes and she knew the game was about to be kicked up a notch.
Without hesitation and with a swiftness that surprised even her, Carrie stood up and pulled her swollen pussy off of Marks wet jeans. She turned around with her backside to him, placed her hands together behind her back and closed her eyes. It didn’t take long before she felt the cold hard steel encircling her wrists, one after the other, drawing them ever so close together, pulling her shoulders back and stretching and lifting her heaving breast up and out. She had been handcuffed to a bed before and played with her own cuffs in private but this was different, VERY different. These cuffs sent chills and shock waves to every part of her body. It was like they were taking control of her. With every click of the ratchet crashing in her ears even over the thundering sound of the rock music pouring out of the overhead speakers she felt her control slipping away. Then with the last click of cuffs, she knew. Carrie belonged to him now.
Now his hands went to work on her. Clenching her ass cheeks and kneading, pulling, slapping and massaging her bottom. Then he moved to her back, shoulders, sides, thighs, and neck. Large hands, strong hands gripping her flesh and setting it afire with his strong, raw primeval touch. Carrie’s hands too reached out searching for him and found his crotch. Beneath his jeans she found what she was seeking. His cock was long, hard and responded to her searching. Her cuffed hands gripped it and squeezed.
Mark responded by moving his powerful hand up her back to her throat. He encircled it with one hand and pulled her back onto his chest. Holding her in a firm choke hold, his other hand again went to work on her breasts. Oh God thank you, Carrie thought as her screaming nipples had never ached so much for attention. His touch sent instant heat flashes once again thru her body. It was like hot melted chocolate was being poured all over her body. The feel, the smell, the heat was all so intoxicating.
Both Mark’s hands encircled her throat like a thick leather collar, firm un-yielding but not choking. Restricting her just enough to control her, to own her. He pulled her up and she responded by standing once again but now on very wobbly knees like a new born fawn. Grasping her cuffed arms he turned her around and sat her down again on his knee. The lips of her drenched pussy sprang to life again when they contacted the course cloth of his jeans. She clamped her legs around his leg and pressed her pussy into his thigh and they were once again as one.
Mark went back to work on her nipples. Kneading, sucking, nibbling, biting, and setting them on fire. His hands pressed her tits close together and his lips pulled both of her nipples deep within his mouth where his tongue went to work on both of them at the same time. Her nipple rings were like electric conductors sending jolts of electricity thru her chest as his teeth rattled them and turned them into vibrators. They began to feel like white hot lightening rods piercing her most tender flesh. Bolts of electric shock waves were bouncing back and forth between her pussy and her tits. Her mind was going numb. She was aware that sweat was pouring down her chest like Niagara falls, her heart was pounding like a race horse on the final leg of the Kentucky Derby and she was beginning to see stars.
Then as if on clue Mark reached behind her and grabbed a hand full of her hair and suddenly jerked her head back with a snap. All Carrie could see was white light and she later figured she had passed out for a few seconds but she awakened lying on top of Mark in the lap dance booth. Without speaking a word he kissed her on the lips and began unlocking her wrists from the handcuffs. She began mumbling excuses like “it had been a long time since she had come like that” and “I’m sorry I usually don’t sweat like this”, but what she really wanted to say was “What the fuck! That was great”! Soon the “Take Control” dancer in her began to come back and she gained her composure long enough to just stare in his eyes. He stood her up and gave her the biggest, warmest, longest hug of her life. They stared into each others eyes again and the words did not need to be spoken. They both knew they would do this again.
That was 3 months ago and yes Carrie and Mark had met many times since then and each time was better than the last. Over time they had gotten to know each other and become interested in each others lives. Carrie learned just how deeply involved Mark was in bondage and how much it drove him. Carrie wanted to learn more about the burning fetish that fueled this fascinating man. They had done about everything they could get away with in the club. Both knew they would need to take this experiment outside if Carrie was to learn more and she was a very, very eager student.
They had met at Mark’s room. He always stayed at the same hotel, RM 315. There he had tied her up in various ways but he was very gentle with her and they did not go far beyond what they had done in the club. Carrie was a good student but wanted to take the game slowly. They both had a lot of fun and got to know each others hot buttons very well. Carrie knew there were still many things Mark was holding back from her. The game had played out its course and soon both knew it was time for Carrie to graduate to the big leagues.
One night Carrie was working at the club and Mark came in as usual. But instead of waiting for her to come to his table he approached her while she was doing her required number on the stage. He slipped a few dollars in her G-string but also placed a note there as well. Then he turned and left the club. After completing her dance she read the note. A wicked smile slowly grew on her lips. She went back into the dressing room and got out her phone and quickly typed a one work reply to Marks cell number. “Yes”.
Now she had come full circle. Carrie stood at the door to Marks hotel room holding his note. She stood frozen in time, trying to find the courage to put his words into action. Nothing in the note was shocking or surprising to her. True she had done none of it before, but she trusted this man and wanted to try these things, partially from curiosity but mostly because she wanted to do it to please him. She loved the feeling of being controlled by him, owned by him. She was truly a slave seeking a master and these written words were the master’s commands. Carrie looked down once again at the note she had read a dozen times on the way here from the club. She had no need to read the words. The detailed instructions were burned into her mind. She suddenly realized just how daring and dangerous this act would be. She had danced naked in front of hundreds of men but that paled in comparison with what she had earlier agreed to do. She had the heart, she had the desire, but did she have the courage to go thru with this.
Slowly the courage came to her, from where she did not know. It seemed to be emanating from beyond the door.
As if in a zombie like trance Carrie began to remove her clothes. She removed her tank top and short jean skirt placing them on the floor beside the bag. Next to fall was her bra, releasing her full overflowing tits and revealing the special nipple rings that Mark had bought for her. They were shaped like horse shoes having a long oval shaped loop dangling down from each nipple. The long silver stud passing thru each nipple locked the ends of the loop together with large silver captive retaining balls screwed at each end. Next she reached down to the open duffle bag and dumped its contents on the floor at her feet. The clatter of chains and locks making a loud racket but the young girl never flinched from her trance. She picked up the 2 tweezer type nipple clamps. Her nipples had never felt the bite of clamps before and she did not even know how to apply them. She stared at them for a moment and then closed one over the loop on the left nipple ring. He would know what to do with them she thought as she applied the other one to the right nipple ring. The collar was next. She knew how to apply it having worn it many times at the club. She tightened the buckle to the last eyelet. The buckle had a loop in it for one of the small padlocks on the floor. She picked one up and not even looking around to see if there was a key in the bag locked the padlock in the collars buckle. Ensuring the collar would not be coming off until the master wanted it to.
Next up was the ballgag. The bright red 1 7/8 dia. ball fit snuggly behind her teeth. Mark had brought this to the club also and she had tried it on only for a few moments. She noticed it too had a locking means just like the collar. She picked up another padlock from the floor and after tightening the gags strap to its last eyelet locked the second padlock in place. The leg irons were simple to apply. Just handcuffs for the feet she thought. Shackles, Mark had called them but she remembered for a moment another dancer who had joked about her boyfriend putting a pair of them on her one night. She had called them shickles. Her mind might have thought this was funny but the expression on Carrie’s face never strayed from its trance like determination to complete her task. Her master demanded it. Next was the dreaded crotch rope.
This took some more detailed explanation in the note but Carrie understood the function. She took the rope from the floor and passed it around her waist several times and then hesitated. She still had her panties on and wondered if she should remove them before pulling the rope up thru her pussy. She looked down at the note and saw the words NAKED. She removed the panties and pulled the rope from the back loop between her legs and up thru her pussy lips to the front and looped it over the waist loop just under her new navel ring. She knew the function of the rope was to rub her where women wanted to be rubbed the most but she did not know how tight to make the rope. The doubled rope set just outside of her labia resting snuggly between the slightly swollen lips. She thought about this for only a moment and then closing her eyes pulled down as hard as she could on the rope. She bit hard on the ballgag and sucked in a torrent of air as she gasped for breath. The force of the rope thrusting itself up and into her crotch finally resting hard against her clitoris yanked Carrie up on to her tip toes. Not wanting to turn back now and feeling her courage start to wane she quickly tied the rope off now several inches under her navel.
Now almost completed with her task Carrie started to squat down to pick up her clothes and place them back into the bag. As she did the crotch rope raked quickly across her labial lips and dug even deeper into her pussy turning a million nerve endings loose and setting her on fire. The resulting heat wave almost knocked her over. Recovering from the shock Carrie wiped her forehead and was surprised by the amount of sweat. The hallway felt cold now. She looked down at her nipples which must have been feeling it now because they were swollen to twice their size and appeared to be rock hard. She touched one of them with her finger. She immediately felt an electric shock all the way down to her toes. Carefully she bent over at the waist and placed her clothes and all but the remaining two items in the duffle bag and closed it. As she finished this a line of drool slipped out from around the ballgag and puddle on the floor. She tried her best to stop it but her mouth was powerless to speak or to stop the drool. She felt embarrassed as she looked at the mess on the hotel carpet.
As she stood holding her last two items of bondage her fingers went to her pussy. It too was wet, very wet. She felt a small line of fluid trickle down the inside of her thigh and she feared it too would begin to puddle on the floor. She had to complete her task soon. Looking at the small dildo like vibrator in her hand she quickly set about preparing for its use. Adjusting the control knob on the end she set its multi-function switch to “Random Control” and slipped it under the crotch rope just above her pretty shaved pussy. The ropes immediately transferred the vibrations directly to those thousand nerve endings still screaming for relief. The effect brought Carrie once again to her tip toes as she tried to hold off the inevitable for just a few precious moments. She bit down hard on the ballgag and gripped her left nipple hard with her finger nails. The pain caused her to scream but the ballgag trapped everything within her throat and all that came out was aaammmmmmppppp. Carrie realized she had only given herself a few seconds reprieve and had to work fast now.
It was time for the final act. The one that meant there was no turning back. Everything she had done to this point was reversible, or so her mind told her it was. She could always turn and run back into the elevator and escape, never mind the fact that she was gagged, crotch roped and shackled with no idea where the keys were. These were the incoherent thoughts rambling thru the mind of a woman desperate for relief from a fire within her that would not be denied. A fire that could only be squelched she told herself by what was behind the door to room # 315. One act, one great act of courage stood between her and that relief. With that one thought consuming her mind Carrie raised the handcuffs to her eyes. The bright light from the hallways florescent tubes twinkled on the shiny chrome surfaces and was caught by her eye. She examined the hard unbreakable steel links that would soon hold her prisoner. She raked her fingernails across the teeth of the locking jaw that would soon measure out her last bit of freedom. She closed the jaw around her left wrist. She went slowly at first one click then two, three, and then rammed it home until the jaw closed tightly on her wrist bone. Her mind barely registered the pain, so overloaded was it with sensations from a thousand nerve endings tingling with excitement from every corner of her shivering body.
“Still time to turn back” a voice from deep within her mind was screaming. But that voice was being drowned out by the pounding of a blood roaring thru her veins and crashing into her ears. Courage which she never knew she possessed pulled both her arms behind her now. It was as if Mark was behind her dragging her hands together as he has done many times before. Her left hand gripped the open jaw of the free handcuff and when it made contact with the right wrist the jaw snapped shut. “Crap now you have done it, slip your hand free while there is still time” the fading little voice in her head tried to scream out but it was as if the voice was also gagged and helpless. Her left hand gripped the jaw and her thumb pressed it closed. Click, click, click, the sounds bounced off the metal doors in the empty hallway and resounded in her ears until the last click, and then there was silence. A silence Carrie had not expected. She heard nothing except her breathing. The pounding of blood had subsided or had it, had she gone deaf? She wasn’t sure. Seconds passed into minutes and faded into an eternity of emptiness. She felt nothing for what seemed like forever and then slowly like a wave approaching a quiet deserted beach at dawn she awoke to a crashing wave of fire within her. The orgasm building within her would soon be upon her and would consume her. “No, No not yet” she tried to scream. She was not ready. She wanted to come so badly but not here, not in an empty hallway. She wanted to come in his arms on the other side of this damn metal door with the number 315 on it.
Carrie stepped forward and with far too much force kicked the door with her foot. Pain shot up from her big toe exposed by the open toed high heels she was wearing. The pain was welcomed as it temporarily held back the impending orgasm but her poor toe hurt really, really bad. She looked down at her poor toe. It was red and already swelling and it appeared she had broken the nail. She leaned forward to get a better look at the trickle of blood under the nail and she lost her balance. She fell forward crashing her forehead into the hard metal door. Instantly she saw stars and the room began to spin. Crap I’m going to faint she thought. Her mind was struggling to focus on just how she was going to deal with this when she was distracted by a sound, a sound coming from behind her.
“What the fuck is this, Christmas come early”? A voice from over her left shoulder spoke. Carrie only had a moment to react as she turned to see a very tall muscular black woman in her mid thirties standing in the doorway of the room behind her with her arms crossed. She stared intently at the bound package before her. As the imposing woman’s eyes scanned and took in every detail of Carrie’s beautifully bound and helpless body before her, a chill ran up the length of Carrie’s spine and a lump grew in her throat. If Carrie had any chance of escaping the woman’s intentions it evaporated when she saw the long cat-o nine tails whip hooked on the woman’s belt and a long coiled whip dangling from her hand.
Frozen in her tracks Carrie stared at this Amazon Mistress slowly crossing the hallway and stopping inches from her. Carrie closed her eyes as the woman approached. She was hoping the nightmarish images now flashing thru her brain would disappear when she opened her eyes. She could feel the woman’s hot breath on her bare shoulders yet it did little to melt the freezing chill that held her entire body rigid with fear. Carrie gasp and sucked in air from around the ballgag when she felt the woman’s hand cup her left breast. She screwed her closed eyelids even tighter knowing what was coming next. This familiar feeling she had felt many times before and under most circumstances welcomed it but when the woman’s fingers gripped Carrie’s nipple ring it was like a bolt of electricity shot thru her body. Carrie felt her knees weaken and suddenly she thought she was nauseous. Carrie felt the woman’s hot breath on her ear and heard her whisper “we are going to have such fun with these”.
Carrie opened her eyes just in time to see the long coiled whip being lowered around over her head and tightened around her slender neck. She felt the firm tug of the whip at her throat and her body react to the force by jerking back but even if she was not bound she was no match for the muscular woman. Still Carrie tried again and again to break free of the noose pulling her closer and closer to the mistress’s doorway. Carrie opened her eyes and looked into the doorway which she was being drug into and saw 2 more women inside peering out from the edge of the doorway. These 2 women were smaller than the Amazon. They were both white, both blond and petite like Carrie. As her captor drew her closer she could now see that they were both nude, both apparently bound with their hands behind their backs and she could make out ballgags in their mouths like hers. As she reached the doorway she could see other people in the room. The room was a large suite and she could make out 10-15 other shapes. She was sure they were women, not from their faces because from what she would make out they were all wearing masks, but she could hear the unmistakable sound of female laughter.
“What the hell was she being dragged into”? Carrie thought as she doubled her efforts to fight the powerful tug of the noose. This only succeeded in tightening the grip of the whip on her throat and this began to cut off her air supply. She could hear women’s voices now. “fresh meat for the slave auction”, wow this ones prettier than the other two, how do you do it Wanda”, “I can’t wait to whip her”, “look at the size of those boobies lets try out these nipple clamps on them”, “fuck that, look at that ass, lets try out your new butt plug on her” yelled out the voices from the crowd.
Carrie turned her head back to the 2 bound girls now stepping back from the doorway. Their eyes met and exchanged a brief message of fear that Carrie knew was not good. Whatever was going on here was more than a game. The struggle along with the lack of oxygen in her brain started to take effect and she started feeling dizzy and light headed. Her eyes dropped and she saw for the first time the naked breasts of the two girls. Each had something on their nipples like clamps or something but her vision began to blur. She caught a flash of light and focused on it. She could tell now that each girl had a something metallic suspended on a chain strung between each nipple. The metal piece appeared to be a tag of some kind and she could make out large letters SLA… was all she could see when suddenly the world went dark.
Some kind of bag or hood or something had been pulled down over her head. She felt someone pulling the noose off of her neck but then another force like a wide flat strap was pulled tightly around her neck. There was tugging at the back and then she felt and heard the unmistakable click of a large padlock. It was hot, very hot inside the hood but still she seemed to be getting cool air around her nose so she could survive this she thought. Survive it except for the fact that Carrie was claustrophobic. Putting the collar and the ballgag on were the most frightening things she had ever done and now what the fuck was this she though. Let me out her mind screamed but her voice was crushed under the tight collar and the hood. It didn’t matter anyway because the gag would have kept any sound from coming out.
What was feeling like hours to Carrie inside the hood were in reality only a handful of seconds in real-time. Her brain had little time to recover from the lack of oxygen and her state of semi-consciousness was never relieved when the assault began. Carrie had nearly blacked out when from every direction she felt hands, fingers and tongues, groping, pinching and sucking every inch of her body. Her mind snapped to attention and she tried to scream but her body was not listening to her brains commands. All of her senses were being overloaded. At first she knew she had been pulled to the side of the bed and sat on the edge. From there the hands and mouths began working on her now heaving breasts and diamond hard nipples. Fingers tugged at her nipple rings and mouths sucked so hard at her nipples and made them so hard that they hurt. She felt bites of pain all around her breasts as something like clamps or clothes pins were placed all around each boob and then down her sides and arms. Hands played with and swatted each little clamp sending jolts of pain all over her body. More than she could count, more than she could endure.
Just when she felt she would pass out, the hands stopped, and for a moment she felt nothing but the dull bite of the little monsters. Then the whip came crashing down on her poor tortured titties Whack! Whack! Whack! With each crashing blow more and more of the biting little clamps were being painfully ripped from her tits and chest. Here body was on fire. 'Stop! Stop! Oh God PLEASE Stop' her brain screamed but she was unable to utter a single sound other than the constant moaning which her throat had involuntarily been doing since the assault had begun. Just when she thought her heart would explode something strong gripped her nipple rings and pulled hard. She tried to get up to ease the pain but she was too weak. They are going to pull my tits off she thought. My god what are these women sadists? Am I going to be sacrificed in some bizarre devil worship? At the moment she was sure her flesh would begin to rip strong hands gripped her shoulders and lifted her up and rolled her over. As her chest fell onto the bed spread something sharp pressed into her right breast. She tried to move to ease the pain when her body was jolted by the first crack of the whip on her bare white ass. Whack! Whack! Whack! The blows shook her body and she bounced on the bad like a trampoline. Then a dozen hands descended on her backside. They were everywhere, smacking pinching squeezing and probing her tender flesh. They lifted her ass up so that the invaders could probe her pussy and her virgin ass hole.
Her knees were spread wide and she felt someone slide in between her thighs and a very strong mouth take hold of her pussy lips and sucked them in. Whoever was down there was a pro at eating pussy. Carrie was shocked at how wet she was and how wide her lips spread to welcome this invasion of her most private parts. Within moments her hips began to rock with the stroking of the tongue and fingers probing deeper and deeper into her. She barely noticed the fingers pressing her tight ass hole until she heard the click and hum of the vibrator coming to life. Pretty pussy likes vibrators she thought. But that was not where the deep roar of this vibrator was headed. When the tip of the big black pulsating monster touched Carrie’s ass hole all hell broke loose. Carrie began thrashing about the bed as the waves of a gigantic mind blowing orgasm broke free of their bindings and began tearing their way through every inch of her body. Spasms jolted her and rocked her hips nearly throwing several of her captors on the floor. Two of them holding the big black pulsating monster steadied themselves and pressed home their attack on her ass hole pressing the dildo harder and harder on her tightly clenched asshole. This is the point at which the unstoppable force meets the immovable object and despite her body being racked by violent jolts of pleasure, she put up a valiant fight, but she was losing ground. Slowly the giant invader was penetrating her and the pain was excruciating. Please stop, please stop, she wanted to plead with the room full of laughing masked women. They could not hear her cries however. Nor could they see the river of tears poring down her cheeks and pooling in the leather hood. All they felt was their own pleasure and all their ears heard was their own laughter.
Suddenly everything was stopped. The pounding on Carrie’s asshole ceased and she heard silence all around her. The pounding in her brain subsided and she released her death grip on the invader in her ass but it penetrated no further. Her mind began to spin and she felt herself beginning to drift as if in space. She heard voices again. “What was that, was that the door”? Knock! Knock! Knock! “Pizza delivery”, a man’s voice came from a distance.
“Damn Wanda, did you order pizza too”, spoke a female voice? Carrie heard the chain on the door rattle as it was released and then a loud boom as the door was kicked in. Then the room erupted in screaming.
“Oh my God he has a gun”, “I’m sorry I’m sorry I wasn’t doing anything”, cried several female voices.
“What the hell do you bitches think you are doing here”, boomed the male voice.
“You can’t just barge in here”, yelled a voice that sounded like the big black Amazon woman.
Then all Carrie could make out were sounds of a struggle. It sounded like several people rolling on the floor and then suddenly a stampede of high heels running out into the hallway. “You can’t do this to me”, she was sure that was the big woman’s voice. “The hell I can’t”, was that Mark’s voice? Then she heard a sound that was unmistakable. The rapid click, click, click ratcheting of handcuffs being closed. “You mother fugmmmgfhhmmm”, screamed a woman whose words were quickly being muffled by something in her mouth. Suddenly the fight came to her and something slammed against the bed. Carrie was pushed off the side of the bed and crashed into the wall. Her impaled ass slamming into the wall sending a jolt of pain to her head at the same moment that her hood covered skull crashed unto the floor. In an instant Carrie’s world was dark.
The pain in Carrie’s forehead was fading but she could still tell it was there. She raised her hand to feel the knot there and was suddenly struck by the fact that she could move her hand. It was not bound. It was still dark. No, it wasn’t dark she just had not opened her eyes yet. When she did the sun struck them and momentarily blinded her. It took a few minutes for her to focus on her surroundings. She was lying on her back on a bed. She turned to the side and there was a man next to her. It was Mark. A slow scan of the room revealed she was in RM 315 where she had intended to be. She saw her clothes folded over the desk chair on one side of the room. On a table next to that was her duffle bag and next to that her handcuffs, gag, collar and other bondage gear. The clock on Mark’s side of the bed said 8:45 and he was apparently sound asleep. She sat up in bed. The throbbing in her head started again. She reached up and felt the knot on her forehead. She started to remember the events of the night before. She remembered tying herself up in the hallway. She remembered falling forward and hitting her forehead against the door. Did that knock her out?
Slowly she climbed out of bed. The urge to pee was strong now and she began to walk to the bathroom. She began to recall other events. The big black Amazon woman and the masked bitches in the room and the whip and……? But those memories were so clouded. They were only images, sounds, feelings, no faces, nothing clear. Could all that just be a dream? Did she really pass out in the hallway and was carried to the bed by Mark? He was that kind of guy. A throw back, a real gentleman who had probably carried her inside, freed her from her bonds and put her gently in bed without waking her.
By the time Carrie reached the bathroom she had convinced herself that her nightmare was just that. One look at the red knot on her forehead in the mirror sealed the deal. Wow what a crazy dream she thought. Suddenly she heard a moan from behind her. She turned but saw no one there. Again she heard it. The sound was coming from behind the shower curtain. Quickly Carrie grabbed the curtain and threw it aside. She gasped for air when she saw what was behind it. Lying in the tub on top of each other still handcuffed and gagged as she had first seen them in the hallway were the two petite blond girls. Their legs were bound at ankle and knee and she saw again that each of them had some kind of a tag attached to one of their nipples. She turned away from the sight and came face to face with her image in the full length mirror on the wall. There dangling from her right nipple ring by a permanent metal clamp was a chrome engraved dog tag bearing her new name SLAVE # 3.
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