Pierced and Ringed | Tamara 6 | doctor and slave bdsm stories

For several months, Tamara and Aimee’s training continued in like manner; sometimes with and sometimes without the assistance of the insidious drug. Sometimes they were tortured and raped together, sometimes not. It seemed that both Tamara’s and Aimee’s course was now set. Even without the drug’s influence, both girls came more and more to depend on their daily fix of sex, combined as it was with the delicately balanced doses of torture and punishment.

Imprisoned permanently either in the cellar or in the cell, the enforced mixture, leading as it always did to the single pleasure of orgasm, led them to subconsciously welcome their daily torture routine, though their conscious minds still rebelled against some of the disgusting things they were made to do. Now, even the simple act of kneeling in the ritual slave position caused Tamara to react automatically; her nipples and clitoris swelling and her vagina oiling itself as if in anticipation of the pleasure/pain to come.

For her part, Madame was reasonably satisfied with both their progress. Now, however, it was time the training took a different, and most important, turn.

One particular day, some four months after they had been brought to the island, Madame Annaliese stood on the little terrace at the rear of the Manor House looking down at the two submissively kneeling, naked figures with considerable relish.

Both girls had been brought up from the torture cellar for the first time since they had arrived and were posed in the ritual slave position with hands clasped at the back of necks. Evidence of the harshness of their training was easy to see, fresh cane and whip marks overlaying earlier weals from previous punishments. Each girl stared straight ahead, eyes blinking at the unaccustomed sunlight. Neither moved a muscle, having learned from bitter experience that this would bring immediate and severe punishment. They made a quite lovely sight. Jason was in attendance as usual, an unmistakable half-erection tenting his jodhpurs a silent testament to the eroticism of the scene.

Madame flicked the ever-present quirt sharply against one of her own highly polished riding boots and chuckled when both girls visibly flinched. For both Tamara and Aimee, the past months had proved to be absolute hell on earth, even though the daily whippings, canings and other tortures had lessened to a degree as they’d become grovellingly ever more servile and obedient to their captor’s wishes and commands.

Of course, throughout this both girls had been subject to intimate training of a more sexual nature.

They could now expertly suck a penis or service a vagina with their tongues to the extent that neither Madame nor Jason could honestly find fault with them. Their own sexuality had been increased as well. Not even wearing the tight-fitting crotch belts securing ever larger training dildos in their bottom holes seemed to faze them. The reason, Madame had told them soberly, was to stretch their anuses so that a Master might use this particular orifice without discomfort.

Originally, for Tamara, this had been hard to come to terms with. Until her abduction, her little asshole had been entirely virgin. Even so, each day the dildos slid into her, gradually increasing in size until, as Madame observed, she was now ready to accommodate a fully-grown man.

By this time Tamara hardly remembered the halcyon days of her freedom and even those dim memories had begun to take on semblance of unreality. The training was working, as it always did.

She didn’t realise it, but she was already a long way towards accepting that she was now nothing more than a slave. Sometimes, in the sanctuary of her cell, she even wondered if she had ever been free at all.

She had not seen Matthew Ryan for over two months, though in the early days he had often been present at training sessions. Distantly, she wondered if she would ever see him again.

Madame broke the pregnant pause. „I have had a message from your Master, slaves. He is pleased with the results of your training up until now and has decided that he now wishes you to be trained as ponygirls.“

Madame paused for a moment, as if for effect, before continuing. She tapped Tamara gently on one whip marked breast with the quirt. „From now on your name is ‚Big Tits’.“ She turned to Aimee. „You are renamed ‚Red’. These are more fitting names for ponies.“

Aimee’s shoulders were shaking and she jerked forward convulsively, unclasping her hands from the back of her neck as a strangled whimper of protest issuing from her mouth.

Madame smiled grimly and whiplashed the quirt savagely across the girl’s out-thrust breasts.

„Get those hands back where they belong and be quiet!“ she snarled.

The response was predictable. „Ayyyyyyyyyiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii,“ shrieked Aimee, curling into a foetal ball and writhing on the floor.

„Get up!“ snarled Madame, slashing the quirt right down the crease of the agonised girl’s buttocks. „Assume the position!“

„Aaaaaaaargh! Aaaaaaaargh! Oh God, have mercy, please, have mercy!“ Painfully, desperately, Aimee resumed her former stance, shoulders shaking with huge, racking sobs while the tears flowed freely down her cheeks. The dark red welt across her breasts was already turning a bluish black and her bottom blazed with pain.

The Amazon continued implacably. „As I was saying; your Master requires that, in the shortest possible time, you shall both be broken into obedient ponies. You will, of course, be housed in the stables where you will be trained as trotting ponies, learning complete and absolute obedience to the whip, reins and spur.“

Tamara listened almost in a daze. Whip, reins and spur; she and Aimee to be kept in a stable like animals? To be a sex slave was one thing; but to be used as a pony, an animal? What more degradation could be heaped on them? Yet they had to comply. There was just no other choice.

„I see you find this all a little difficult to take in,“ chuckled Madame dryly, obviously amused by each girl’s expression of consternation and disbelief. „Nevertheless,“ she continued, „I can assure you that everything I say is true. You will obey, or you will die.“ She spoke in a cool, matter-of-fact way, as if she was merely explaining a perfectly normal situation.

Tears were flowing freely down Aimee’s cheeks and she was still sobbing softly to herself, shaking her head slightly from side to side as if in denial of what was being said.

Tamara, in turn, was fighting to maintain the slavish position in which she and Aimee were required to maintain. With great effort she continued to offer her breasts by squaring her shoulders and sucking in her stomach, though tears were already staining her cheeks. More and more she was coming to see that both her own and Aimee’s position was hopeless. Their Master - such was the fiendish and effective nature of the training, that she now quite naturally thought of Matt Ryan in this way - had quite obviously planned this for too long for there to be any real possibility of escape.

Oh God, what was she to do? How could she possibly bear this further degradation?

Madame moved behind the two kneeling forms and buckled a studded leather collar and lead, much like a dog’s only wider, tightly around each neck. „There are many who will pay handsomely for the privilege of being in total control of a human animal; usually a naked female,“ she said calmly, „although we have been known to train the odd young man in similar duties.“ She smiled and reached round to caress Tamara’s large breasts with both hands, pulling firmly at the nipples as if to test their resistance.

Tamara winced, yet managed continue to thrust the wealed orbs up and out as was expected.

Madame’s nails dug in cruelly and she gave a little cry, still holding the position. She smothered a sob of humiliation, feeling the familiar wetness at her crotch and the excitement building in her loins.

„Getting you to the point where you are entirely proficient in your duties,“ Madame continued as if nothing at all out of the ordinary was happening, „will require Jason’s complete attention, as well as making certain minor alterations to your bodies to make control easier and more complete.“

Tamara’s mind was reeling. To be trained as a pony; and now body alteration? This was rapidly becoming a nightmare; a nightmare from which there was no escape.

Madame smiled again, sweetly this time. „First, two teeth will be extracted from each side at the back of your upper and lower jaws,“ she said calmly. This will be make it possible to close your mouths around a proper horse bit.“ She ignored the swift intake of breath from the kneeling girls.

„We use many types of bit here. Basically their function is to direct the pony via the reins and render it silent. However, it also serves as a curb and reminds the slave of his or her animal status.“ She paused for a moment, amused by the expression on the faces of her captives, then reached down to take hold of one of Aimee’s nipples. She tugged at it viciously and Aimee was forced to bite off a scream. „Secondly, for tethering purposes,“ she continued calmly, „you will have steel rings ... „ she tugged at the nipple again „ ... inserted through these.“ Aimee started violently and Madame smiled beatifically at her trembling captive. „Also, similar rings will be inserted through your cunt lips and clitorises.“

Tamara could hardly believe what she was hearing. To have her back teeth removed just so a horse bit could be inserted into her mouth was bad enough; but on top of that to have rings inserted in her nipples and sexual parts just horrified her beyond belief.

„Lastly, you will both be branded.“ The Amazon’s voice was casual, as if what she was saying was of no real import. „The brand will take the form of your Master’s initials, clearly identifying you as his slaves.“

It was all too much for the by now terrified Tamara. „Oh no, no, no!“ she babbled. „Please no!“

Madame grinned and raised the quirt again.

„Aaaaaaaargh! Aaaaaaaargh! Oh God, oh God. No more, no more! God, please, Madame!“ screamed Tamara as the vicious instrument came down again and again, first across her breasts and then her belly and, when she squirmed over on to her stomach in a vain attempt to avoid more blows, agonisingly across her buttocks and the backs of her thighs. Six times the quirt fell across her defenceless, naked flesh, leaving her moaning and sobbing breathlessly, writhing vainly face down on the floor.

„Back to your knees, quickly, slave!“ snarled Madame. „Unless you’d like another six across your tits.“

„Oh God,“ sobbed Tamara as she squirmed and scrambled as quickly as she could back to her knees. „Please, Madame, no more! I can’t take any more, please.“ Shaking like a leaf and sobbing bitterly, she shrank back as the quirt tapped forcefully at her wealed tit flesh.

„Disobey again, slave, and you really will wish you were dead! Now, stick those big udders out!“ snapped Madame. „Square your shoulders and suck in that fat stomach.“ She snorted disgustedly. „Try to look attractive even if you’re not! If there is one thing I cannot stand it’s a slovenly slave. There is no excuse for it! Understand?“

„Yes, Madame,“ sobbed Tamara, squaring her body with great effort. „Thank you, Madame.“ Desperately, she did not wish to feel the kiss of the quirt again.

Madame hadn’t finished yet. „At your Master’s order, all piercings are to be done by means of a red-hot needle and no anaesthetic.“ She looked pointedly at both Tamara’s and Aimee’s mounds and smiled. „Also, your pubic hair is to be removed; permanently.“ She chuckled. „The little girl look is becoming very popular with Masters these days.“

She turned to the young Negro. „All right, Jason, you can take them to the stables and secure them now! The doctor will be across shortly to see to the extractions and ringing. Measure both of them for their bits as soon as the extractions are completed.“

„Yes Madame, of course,“ Jason replied respectfully. „Er, what about, er?“

Madame smiled. „Yes of course. As ponygirls they are both fully available for use.“

Aimee’s expression was one of resigned foreboding as the woman’s meaning immediately became clear. ‚Fully available for use’ meant exactly that. The punishment sessions in the basement torture room had only emphasised that their bodies were no longer their own. Now that they were to be housed outside the Manor House, they could be fucked by anyone of the staff who wished to do so.

The walk to the stables was accomplished quite quickly, if a little uncomfortably, Jason encouraging both girls with frequent sharp tugs on the two leashes. They entered the long building and the sight that met her eyes almost halted Tamara in her tracks. The long wooden building was divided down each side into twenty or so stalls, a dozen or so occupied by trussed, naked girls.

Both Aimee and Tamara gazed around wide-eyed at their future home.

In the centre of the barn were two large tables. On the first were laid out various items of ponygirl tack: belts, harnesses, collars and bits. The second, standing threateningly on sturdy legs, was empty though heavy leather straps and buckles at each corner made its purpose quite clear.

Each of the occupants of the stalls was chained by the neck to heavy rings set in the back wall, arms fastened securely behind her back inside a full length, single leather glove. Astoundingly to Tamara’s horrified gaze, a long, flowing tail similar to that of a horse sprouted between each set of hindquarters. As Jason appeared with Tamara and Aimee, each occupant of the stalls scrambled to assume the ritual, thighs-wide, shoulders back, slave position insisted on by Madame Annaliese.

The occupant of the first stall was a really buxom brunette; a woman of indeterminate age with huge pendulous breasts. Tamara thought she might have been in her early forties, though age was difficult to gauge, given her uniform and the other quite horrible things that had been done to her body. Her body was deeply tanned, as though she spent a lot of time outdoors and a wide leather belt was buckled tightly around her waist. Heavy steel rings were set in the flesh of her large nipples and also in her labia, clitoris. Even more horribly, a thick steel ring hung from the septum of her nose. On her feet were ankle-length, soft leather boots. Whip and cane marks covered much of the tanned flesh.

The occupants of the next three stalls were much younger and looked like sisters. All were similarly tanned and accoutred, though none of the three had her nose ringed.

A loud creaking sound caught Tamara’s attention and she looked to the far end of the barn, where a sweating, naked girl was chained to a structure reminiscent of a huge water wheel. Wrists fastened to a heavy crossbeam above her head, she was turning the wheel by the simple expedient of mounting the succession of moving steps one by one. The laboured motion showed the effort it took. Above the wheel was what looked to be a meter-indicator. With each complete turn of the wheel, this clicked once.

Tamara stood wide-eyed, looking at the struggling figure in horror. She felt a sickness building in her stomach and for a moment thought she might faint. Even from where she stood, Tamara could see that the young girl was fighting for breath as she climbed, chest heaving mightily, striped buttocks wavering from side to side as her shaking legs sought a secure footing on the steps. She, too, sported a long, flowing horse’s tail to match her jet-black hair.

On and up climbed the girl, lathered like a horse after a hard race, limbs leaden-like, her hair soaked with sweat, one tortured step after the other. The indicator clicked, registering another turn.

Obviously there were a certain number to be completed; the long, plaited whip hanging on the side of the apparatus coupled with the weals criss-crossing the girl’s lower back and buttocks telling graphically how completion was encouraged.

Quickly and methodically Jason shepherded Tamara into an empty stall opposite the big breasted older woman, clipping her leash to a hefty staple on the back wall. She sank to her knees automatically in response to an imperious click of his fingers. His voice was calm and reasonable, as if he was talking to a regular employee. „All right then, Big Tits. You stay exactly as you are!

No talking! Doc’ll be here very soon and you’d better not give him any trouble!“ He paused for a moment and smiled down at her upturned face. „You remember the consequences of disobedience?“

Tamara nodded and widened her thighs as much as she could. She squared her shoulders and thrust out her breasts, determined not to give further excuse for punishment.

Taking a leather single glove from a hook on the wall, Jason quickly fastened her arms behind her back. He turned away, leaving her leashed and helpless while he manoeuvred Aimee into the next stall down the line, securing her in exactly the same manner and giving her the same warning.

Just as Jason finished securing Aimee, a man in his forties dressed in a long white doctor’s coat entered the barn. The young black was already busying himself with the slim figure of Aimee.

Roughly he positioned her bent forwards before thrusting his already erect penis straight into her already stretched bottom hole. Aimee made no protest, just remained quietly with her head in the straw while her attacker brutally sodomised her.

All the while, the rumbling and creaking of the torture wheel continued from the far end of the barn.

Meanwhile the white-coated man had stepped into Tamara’s stall and begun to examine her. At least, it had begun as a medical examination, but quickly deteriorated into something else. First he ordered her to open her mouth, looking perfunctorily at her back teeth before moving on quickly to her breasts, caressing, fingering and then twisting the nipple flesh, stretching the sensitive nubs until Tamara was forced into a series of soft moans. The man smiled as he recognised the pain/pleasure sounds coming from her partly open mouth. Swiftly then, as if drawn by a magnet, he directed his attention to the glistening, soft and puffy lips nestling so invitingly between the wide-spread thighs.

„Hmmm. Oh yes,“ he murmured cheerfully, driving two fingers straight up into her vagina to confirm her wetness. „You’re a juicy one and no mistake, my beauty. Are you always like this when a man feels you up?“

Tamara hung her head in shame; but she couldn’t deny the fact. It was true. Whether by design or not, her innate sexuality had been increased immeasurably since she had first been pushed into Annaliese’s torture cellar. Sex was now the main thing occupying her mind during her waking hours. And many of her sleeping ones, if the truth were known. Her currently dripping orifice was proof enough, if proof were needed. Now, of course, as Madame had just decreed, she must be subservient, even slavish, at all times to all people, if she was to escape further punishment with the cane. A prospect which filled her with absolute dread. „Yes sir,“ she whispered miserably.

„That’s good. Very good. Now then, turn around and put your nose to the floor!“

Dutifully, Tamara shuffled around and bent so that her nose and chin were pressed to the straw covered floor. „Nnnnnnng,“ she groaned as a finger, still wet and slippery from her own juices, slid unceremoniously into her anus. She fought to stay still as the digit twisted and crooked inside her, scratching erotically at the walls of her anal canal. „Nnnnnnng,“ she groaned again, her passions beginning to rise even further, despite her feeling of self-loathing at the ease with which she was being aroused.

„You like that, girl?“ he asked. „Does my finger in your bottom also get you excited?“

Tamara was bright red with embarrassment, yet once more felt she had to answer truthfully.

„Yes, oh yes, sir,“ she gasped.

The man smiled. „Don’t be ashamed, child!“ he said cheerfully. „Just be thankful you are what you are. It will help you no end while you are here.“

Trembling with suppressed passion, Tamara said nothing. The man’s meaning was quite clear.

The less control she had over her libido, the better for her keeper’s purpose. To them she was nothing but a sexual animal, to be trained for the pleasure of others.

Abruptly, the finger was removed. „Now then! Kneel upright, facing me as before!“ came the soft order.

Tamara obeyed, still trembling and the finger was offered to her mouth for cleaning.

Automatically she opened her mouth to take it in, licking thoroughly in an effort to remove her secretions.

Satisfied, the doctor moved from Tamara’s stall into Aimee’s, examining the older woman similarly. The red head, somewhat predictably, was found to be just as satisfactorily wet; though her smaller breasts did not attract as thorough an investigation as had Tamara’s. Once again, there was a thorough anal investigation, after which Aimee was also required to lick the finger clean.

Then it was time for the extractions.

Picking up his leather bag, the man took out some shiny instruments and stood astride the kneeling red head, holding her tightly between his knees. Tamara watched in horror as, to a continuous series of screams from the writhing Aimee, he quickly yanked out four of her back teeth.

After wiping a trickle of blood from the side of his groaning victim’s mouth, he left her and moved round to Tamara’s stall. „Open wide, my dear,“ he ordered. „The sooner this is done, the better.“

Trembling, Tamara obeyed, a similar series of small screams and groans escaping her open mouth as she felt first one then another and another and another of her back teeth being yanked out.

Tears blinded her eyes and dizzying unconsciousness threatened as the molars were callously removed. Abruptly, it was over, just a horrible blinding pain in both her upper and lower jaw as the pliers were removed.

Jason took careful jaw measurements of the two sobbing girls before selecting two leather covered pony bits from the harness room. Quickly and efficiently he buckled them to the two helpless subjects.

„All right?“ asked the man.

Jason grunted. „They’ll do for now. I’ll have the real ones ready for tomorrow.“

„Fine. Now let’s get to this ringing business, shall we?“

Drooling around the strange-tasting leather covered object in her agony filled mouth, Tamara heard the words as if from a great distance. Of all the things that had already happened to her, this was the thing she feared most, especially as the piercings were to be done without anaesthetic.

The doctor now brought in a small brazier with red-hot embers, expertly heating a thick needle before bending the trembling Tamara’s head back to secure it in a large, wooden vice-like apparatus fitted to the side of the stall. When the needle was red hot, he slowly pulled at one of her nipples with a pair of slim-jawed pliers while at the same time guiding the needle through the living flesh. The pain was agonising while the needle burnt its way through the membrane. As soon as the needle was removed, a pre-greased stainless steel ring was slipped through the still-smoking wound. Although Tamara was unaware of it, the ring had a built-in catch and locking device that, in a similar fashion to a bull’s nose ring, completed the circle pretty well permanently. If it was ever to come off, it would have to be cut. Swiftly, her other nipple was dealt with similarly and the second ring inserted. The grease with which it was covered seemed to have a kind of numbing effect on the burn and Tamara groaned in some relief as the pain eased to the point where it was just about bearable.

Now a strange device was produced by Jason. The thing looked like a small electric generator with a length of small diameter plastic tube attached to one end. Inserting a finger into her vagina, the doctor began to gently caress her clitoris, encouraging the tiny organ to emerge from its sheath.

Swiftly then he slid the plastic tube over the fleshy nub and reached down to switch on the machine.

Immediately, Tamara’s clitoris was sucked deeper and deeper into the tube, stretching the tender flesh so that it was easy to push the red-hot needle through the little organ.

The atrocious pain washed over the captive girl and a series of strangled screams escaped her twisted mouth as, swiftly, efficiently, a thick metal ring was inserted through her most sensitive place. In turn, her labial lips were ringed in the same way as her nipples while she sobbed and writhed desperately, twisting her body in a vain effort to ease the pain which, despite the numbing effect of the grease, was now throbbing right through her body.

„Don’t fret, girlie!“ soothed the man, spreading more salve on the rings and twisting them gently back and forth through their holes. „The pain’ll go away soon enough. Meantime, you can rest a while. It’s your friend’s turn now.“

Aimee struggled frantically as the two men approached her with the brazier, her mind already in a whirl of agony and desperation at the un-anaesthetised extractions and what she had just seen done to Tamara. Despite pulling and jerking desperately at the bonds holding her, her efforts were useless. Within moments she, too, had been tightly secured, screaming her pain as the red-hot needle burnt its way through the flesh of her nipples. Then it was the turn of her clitoris and labial lips, though by the time the doctor came to fit the hefty steel rings she had fainted clean away; blessed unconsciousness finally relieving the burning pain.

The doctor revived her with a hefty dose of smelling salts before coolly fitting the prescribed clitoral and labial rings. Once more the building rang to desperate and heartbreaking screams before Aimee mercifully lost consciousness.

Then it was Tamara’s turn again, tied down firmly on the large table in the centre of the stable for her depilation; legs splayed wide, a large straw-stuffed pillow under her bottom forcing her sexual parts helplessly upwards. First the doctor trimmed her already neat bush with the aid of a pair of scissors, before settling down to the real business of slowly and painfully plucking out each individual hair with a pair of tweezers. It would, of course, been far quicker just to have shaved her but, as Matthew Ryan had decreed, that would have been too easy and not nearly painful or humiliating enough. Also, of course, the depilation had to be permanent. Tamara’s screams and entreaties filled the building for a half-an-hour or more while the man’s fingers expertly searched every nook and cranny of her sexual parts, delving right inside the vagina to expose the fleshy lips surrounding that intimate part to close scrutiny. Notwithstanding her pitiful groans and cries for mercy, the painful defoliating went on and on until, eventually, every last hair had been removed.

To finish, a dull, viscous paste was carefully kneaded into the whole area, followed by a vigorous rubbing with a rough cloth.

Tamara heard the grating sound of something metal being dragged across the stone floor and turned her head to see the cause, almost losing control of her bladder right there and then. Jason was dragging another larger brazier filled with hot coals towards her from which something which looked suspiciously like the handle of a branding-iron protruded.

„Your last ordeal today, slave,“ said the doctor sympathetically. „It is your Master’s will that you and the other slave both bear his initials as a permanent mark of his ownership. I won’t lie to you, it will hurt like blazes, but it will all be over very quickly.“

Tamara ‚nnnnnnngd’ plaintively from behind the drool-making ball wedged in her jaws, but drew no response from the grinning young Negro. Jason set the brazier down between her and Aimee and, utterly terrified, she closed her eyes and waited for the agony to come.

„No. No. No!“ Tamara tried to shout as the heat of the iron approached her skin. She smelled the odour of burning flesh an instant before the pain struck, distinctly hearing the sizzle as it touched her shrinking flesh. Microseconds later the agonising, burning pain engulfed her helpless body and her muffled screams reverberated around the barn. For three long seconds the doctor held the iron to her flesh of her depilated pubic mound, marking her deeply and cleanly with the initials M R.

Abruptly, silence descended. For the tortured Tamara it had all finally been too much. Clouds of darkness had closed in on her from all sides and she slid down into that black nothingness which rescues us all from that which is unbearable.

Hours later, she opened her eyes to find herself lying face-up in the straw of her stall. She looked through the bars and saw that Aimee was lying similarly in her own stall. The deep wound on Tamara’s mound, now covered in some kind of ointment, felt as if it were on fire, though the pain had actually diminished to the point where she thought she might now be able to bear it without screaming aloud. She tried to sit up and found that she was once more denied the use of her hands, her arms still confined in the leather glove, though this was not currently attached to the collar around her throat. Her collar, though, was padlocked to a slave ring set in the bars of the stall.

The two girls stayed in their stalls for three days, during which time the doctor kept a vigilant eye on them to make sure their brands healed properly. After the three days, they were both declared fit enough to begin ponygirl training.

Strangely, to Tamara’s mind, Matthew Ryan had not put in an appearance and she wondered why he had not come to see the results of their bodily alterations. Was his vengeance now complete, she wondered? Had he lost interest in them now they both bore his rings and his initials were permanently burned into their flesh? The question simmered in her mind. The answer was not readily forthcoming, but she feared it might be close to the truth. The spectre of the brothel in Marseilles continued to haunt her.

At the end of the third day, Tamara stood submissively in front of the so-called doctor. Once more her arms were laced tightly into the leather single glove and attached to her collar. She felt the jab of a needle in her thigh, the sudden sharp pain followed almost immediately by a peculiar but definite shift in her senses. This, in turn, was succeeded by an unmistakable quickening of her previously pain-dampened libido; the discomfort of her piercings and brand receding mistily into the background, her vagina moistening itself automatically as a strong feeling of desire began to sweep over her.

„Kneel down and display!“ ordered the man.

Tamara looked up at him in bewilderment, not really understanding what he meant.

„Like this,“ he said patiently, manoeuvring her so that, once more, she was on her knees facing away from him, her forehead buried in the straw of the stall. She heard the sound of his zip and the unmistakable feel of a healthy sized penis parting the lips of her now hairless vagina. Her haunches quivered with a sudden almost overpowering feeling of lust and she opened herself to him. „Now then, my beauty,“ he said thickly, „move that lovely bum of yours or I’ll take the skin right off it!“

Unbelievably, Tamara found herself actually feeling thankful that this brute wanted now to use her body. The feeling of desire churning in her belly was getting stronger by the second as the drug did its insidious work; to the point where she wanted nothing more than to suck the invading shaft deep inside her quivering channel. Mindlessly, with a muffled ‚nnnng’ of pleasure/pain, she abandoned all other thoughts and thrust her hips backward, impaling herself right to the hilt on the thick, veined shaft.

Whatever was to happen in the future, the pleasure she was experiencing now made it all seem so unimportant.

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