Nipple rings | Tamara 8 | bdsm stories

At precisely seven thirty the following morning the grooms once more entered the barn and went about their duties. The tortured dark-haired ponygirl was finally released from the rack and taken back to her stall where she was once again bitted and fitted with the single glove. Exhausted after a second night of little sleep, Tamara almost welcomed the black hands on her body, rubbing away the aches and pains. The same slimy porridge-like substance was poured into her trough. Tamara was ravenous and waited impatiently for her bit to be removed; the porridge already seemed a lot less revolting than earlier.

Jason’s cheery voice came from behind them as, like the other ponygirls, she dug her nose deep into the trough. „Morning, sluts,“ he called out. „Like I said, big doings at the house tonight and some of you lucky fillies are gonna be allowed to take part in the festivities. Just for tonight, you can forget you are really ponies. Tonight, we’re gonna make you girls again.“ He chuckled. „Now, fill your bellies and clean those troughs; then the ones chosen for the party can rest for a while! No pony training for you today. Later, I’ll take you over to the house and fill you in on your duties.“

Around mid morning, Tamara, Aimee and eight other girls, including Alyssa, Annette, her three daughters and three girls from the other end of the barn, were all taken over to the big house where they were separated and taken away by their grooms. Tamara was taken to a small bedroom with a barred window on the second floor. She looked around the room and was astonished to see a proper bed with sheets and pillows, and, wonder of wonders, an en-suite bathroom with shower, bath, washbasin and flush toilet. She could hardly believe her eyes. After all the weeks of washing with a bucket of tepid water and squatting over another one to pass her wastes, here was a proper toilet and bath, just for her.

Her black groom, whose name she had learnt was Harif, smiled at her, white teeth shining in the black face. He waved a hand casually at what, to Tamara’s eyes, was a luxurious bedroom. „I leave you here, Big Tits,“ he said slowly. It was obvious that English was not his native language.

„You rest for afternoon. Tonight you are maid at party. Meantime, take bath, wash hair, put on make-up and maid’s dress! I come back later, take you to party! You understand?“

Tamara nodded, words failing her.

The black boy lifted his quirt threateningly. „You understand?“ he repeated.

„Yes, sir,“ she replied hastily.

Satisfied, the boy left the room and Tamara heard the key turn in the lock. So, she was still a captive. In a luxurious cell, to be sure, but still a captive. She walked into the little bathroom and looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the wall. She gasped in horror. It was like looking at a stranger. The heavy rings in her septum, nipples and between her legs were the first things that assaulted her gaze. She gazed at them for a long time, her heart heavy as she thought how far she had come since arriving on the island. For a second or two she almost forgot why she was there and the fact that she was now a slave. A surge of fierce hatred for Matthew Ryan surged through her mind momentarily, then was gone in a flash as the careful conditioning imparted by Madame’s training regime took over.

She saw herself in the mirror again. First, her long hair was a mess and, second, her excess baby fat was completely gone. Apart from the hideous-looking rings, her body to be looked in an extremely healthy condition, her muscles honed to near perfection.

She looked around the little bathroom and her heart leapt. There was soap, shampoo and even a plastic container of conditioner on the side of the bath. She suppressed a sudden impulse to sing.

She was still a prisoner, she told herself, even if the cage she was in was gilded. Still, at the very least she could make herself feel like a human being again; even if it was only for a little while.

Much later, lying full-length in a bath full of warm water, she began to think about what was to come. So she was to be a maid at this party or whatever it was. She remembered Jason’s words earlier and her heart lurched. She was a ponygirl now. Why would they want to make her into a girl again?

She got out of the bath and went back into the bedroom and picked up the maid’s dress from the bed, offering it up to her still-wet body. It was short, very short, too short even to be decent and very low cut at the front. There were no underclothes or shoes, of course. She sighed, getting the general idea. Sure, they would have her carrying out maid’s duties; but dressed like this she was bound to be a target for any predatory male, or female for that matter, who was likely to be at the party.

And what kind of party was this gathering likely to be? The question was academic. What sort of party would one expect it to be in this place where young women and girls were kept as slaves and ponygirls? She had a pretty good idea of what to expect, yet when the time came and Harif came to fetch her downstairs, the actual reality was far from anything she might have imagined.

The large function room on the first floor was in semi-darkness. Furnished like a small night-club and illuminated for the most part by subdued lighting, which helped to cloak the identity of twenty or so guests either sitting at tables or swaying to the music in the cleared centre of the room with the companion of his or her choice.

On a raised, spotlit walkway, Annette’s two teenage daughters, Elizabeth and Penny, were bending and curving themselves sinuously around two large poles in time to the heavy beat of the music. Both were wearing nothing more than crotch belts with straps pulled tight between their legs, each strap threaded through a ring in the head of what was unmistakably a large dildo.

Suspended from the ceiling was a large metal cage illuminated by a strong spotlight in which Annette herself swayed and rolled her huge ringed breasts in time to the music. She, too, was naked and looking closer, Tamara saw that the older woman’s wrists and ankles were manacled to the top and bottom of the cage; leaving the fading bluish-black weals marring the skin of her thighs, belly and breasts quite open to view.

Wreaths of smoke from cigarettes and fat cigars around the large room drifted upwards through flashing beams of light keeping time to the insistent disco music.

A raised platform at the rear of the smoke-filled room drew her attention. The backdrop was painted to resemble a scene from Dante’s Inferno, and a knot of real fear formed in her belly as she saw what was highlighted by one of the spotlights.

Hanging naked and spread-eagled from a metal frame facing out towards the auditorium, Aimee was being caned slowly and methodically by Madame Annaliese. At present, the dominatrix was caning Aimee’s buttocks, the well-striped breasts, belly and thighs stark evidence that no part of her body had been spared.

Aimee was strangely silent, though she was not gagged. Her eyes, however, were glazed with pain and perspiration shone dully on her body. She was gasping and biting her lip at each carefully placed blow. Despite her initial revulsion, Tamara was immediately fascinated by the redhead’s response to what was happening. Each time Annaliese lifted the cane, Aimee seemed to position her body as if welcoming its kiss. Was she doing it because she was ordered to or, unlikely though it seemed, because she wanted it? The woman moved around to the front of the frame, lifting the cane threateningly with one hand and crooking a finger at her victim with the other and Tamara couldn’t help a gasp of amazement as, incredibly, the spread-eagled girl actually thrust out her breasts as much as she could.

Wsssssshhshht.

The sound of bamboo biting into the soft flesh was loud, brutal and Tamara flinched, only just resisting the urge to place her hands over her own breasts. Astoundingly, there was no scream of pain from Aimee, just a long, drawn out sighing groan, while her hips moved sensuously as if to capture some imaginary lover between her quivering thighs.

A sudden, startling revelation filled Tamara’s mind and she remembered the drug and what it could do to a girl’s mind and body.

Wsssssshhshht.

Another stroke striped Aimee’s belly just above her depilated and branded pubis and she shuddered, giving vent at last to a series of groans. There was a sheen of sweat all over the spread-eagled body now; breasts flushed a pinkish red; nipples standing erect. Astonishingly, Aimee’s hips began to move even faster and Tamara could only surmise that she was actually on the verge of orgasm.

Wsssssshhshht!

The final cut was made cruelly upward right between the parted thighs, landing precisely on Aimee’s well-presented sex. She howled and her body jerked spasmodically as the blow sent her over the edge into her climax. For long moments she jerked and writhed in a mixture of agony and pleasure until, finally, she was hanging limp in her bonds. A series of little moans came from her gasping mouth; her pain induced orgasm gone, leaving just the pain.

Stepping smartly back, Annaliese turned to face the spectators and, smiling broadly, gave a little bow to a round of appreciative applause, then leapt lithely down from the stage.

Tamara, in turn, was already shivering with a mixture of apprehension and dawning sexual excitement. Her attention was drawn to the myriad of photo lights and video cameras, some on tripods, others hung from wires descending from the darkened ceiling, all positioned around the stage to capture every nuance of the hanging Aimee’s pain and humiliation. Quite obviously someone was determined to capitalise on tonight’s so-called entertainment.

„Hello, Big Tits,“ drawled a voice behind her and she turned to see a smiling Matthew Ryan. For a long moment Tamara gazed terrified at the man who was responsible for her being there. He was dressed in an immaculate tuxedo and, menacingly, one of Madame Annaliese’s ever-present plaited leather quirts hung carelessly from his right wrist.

Matthew’s face darkened into a scowl. „Well?“ he demanded.

Tamara acted out of pure instinct, dropping immediately to her knees and bending her head to the other’s feet, licking and sucking assiduously at the leather of his shoes as she had been so painfully taught. From behind, she heard Madame Annaliese give a satisfied little grunt.

Using the business end of her quirt, Annaliese flicked up Tamara’s skirt to reveal the fading weals on her bare backside. „What d’you think, Matthew?“ asked the dominatrix, softly. „Marks well, doesn’t she?“

Mathew Ryan grunted what was obviously an assent and bent down to casually stroke the soft martyred flesh with his hand. The kneeling Tamara shivered violently at the touch, yet continued to lick feverishly at his shoes.

„Up you get, slave!“ snapped Annaliese. „Time to go to work.“

Tamara was a trifle slow in scrambling to her feet and Annaliese immediately laid a scorching line of pain across the back of her thighs. With a strangled scream, Tamara clasped at her wounded flesh. The pain was excruciating and she stared at her tormentor with tears in her eyes, yet already she could feel her sex channel oiling itself.

„When I tell you to do something, slut, you do it right away!“ snarled Annaliese.

„Yes Mistress,“ gasped Tamara, only too conscious of Matt’s amused gaze.

Annaliese beckoned and a grinning Jason, dressed for the occasion in a tuxedo, pushed his way through the small crowd towards them.

„Yes, Madame?“ he drawled.

„Take this slut to the kitchens and get her started! She can wait tables to begin with.“

Jason nodded and took Tamara by the arm, deftly steering her between dancing couples on the tiny dance floor towards the kitchen. The kitchen was busy as they stepped in and she had an impression of people running hither and thither with at least three chefs attending to the various grills and ovens. There were two swing doors, one for coming in and one for going out.

Other girls, dressed like Tamara, were frantically engaged in taking food out and returning with empty plates. One of them was Alyssa, taking out a large tray piled high with food. At the far end of the kitchen, two more girls, both stark naked, laboured mightily at washing a wavering pile of pots and empty dishes. One of the young black stable grooms stood over them with a cane and Tamara could see that both nude washers-up bore the clear marks of punishment on bottoms and thighs.

Jason took her over to one of the chefs who, with a broad grin, casually ran a hand under her short skirt to feel her bottom, his fingers brushing painfully over the recently raised weals.

„This is Tamara,“ said Jason. „One of the ponygirls come to help out. Madame says not to spare the rod.“

An amused look on his face, the chef continued to investigate under the abbreviated maid’s outfit.

„She available?“ he asked.

Jason nodded. „Yeah. Madame says not to wear her out too much, though.“

Tamara continued to squirm as the man’s fingers tugged painfully with the metal ring transfixing her clitoris and, whatever else happened, she made a silent vow to do everything she was told without hesitation.

„Well you’re a cute one and no mistake,“ grinned the chef as Jason turned away, transferring his attention to Tamara’s breasts, which he proceeded to scoop out of the little dress. Looking at her swollen and ringed nipples, he shouted over his shoulder: „Hey, come over here and check this out!“

It was impressions, rather than a specific realisation of what was happening that came to Tamara next as other men crowded around. Turned around and around and pushed from man to man, she was left with the impression of muscled arms and hard, hard cocks under the white coveralls. Also, there were the hands, brutal hands, all over her body, everywhere at once.

It was only after they dragged her into the tiny storeroom at the back of the kitchen that she realised that there were only three of them; three big brutes with huge, throbbing hard-ons revealed as they stripped of their own clothes. Two of them picked her up as if she were no more than a child and held her up in mid-air. Grinning, the first man moved inside her dangling legs and forced them wide apart. Reaching down to grab her ankles, he lifted her feet so that one rested on each of his shoulders, his free hand guiding his massive erection straight up into her unprepared sex channel.

„Uuurrrrgh!“ Tamara grunted as he slid forcefully into her, his rippling penis stretching and filling her as he shafted all the way in. She felt it almost immediately; the magic, the thrill of sexual electricity shooting through her, radiating outward from her suddenly violated pussy, filling her whole body and charging her with its intense, sensual, lascivious energy.

Powerful arms locked behind her back, hands joined under the bottom cheeks to give her a living seat complete with a back at just the right height.

„The man between her legs adjusted his stance slightly and began to fuck her in earnest, his dark eyes devouring her scantily clad form. She shook with the sudden electric power coursing through her disgustingly responsive body. Here was a complete stranger fucking her as two other held her up for him; a stranger locked with her in this rape which by civilised standards was so wrong yet, if she were honest with herself, she would admit to actually enjoying.

Now the man’s hands reached around her raised thighs to help themselves to her boobs, teasing and stretching the ringed nipples until she thought he might tear them from their base. The action seemed to excite him still further and he continued to plough away at her now dripping orifice while the other two brutes held her firmly in place.

„Unngh! Unngh! Unngh!“ Low, brutish, animalistic grunts emphasised the man’s long, fast, powerful thrusts and Tamara smelt his hot, garlic-laden breath on her face as he shafted in and out of her with mechanical efficiency.

And she was responding! And not just to him!

She was getting hotter and hotter, from the fucking and from the presence of the two other men holding her so tightly and intimately, their hot, hard, muscled bodies pressing against hers as their comrade continued to fuck her long and hard.

Tilted as she was, she could see little except the shoulders and muscular arms of the men holding her and, of course, the face of the man between her legs. Now he was climbing, building towards his climax and she felt the butterflies in her own abdomen begin fluttering their wings, sensitising her vagina, her drooling cunt, and her whole body. As he shot his thick load into her she responded, her multiple orgasms making her pussy snap, milking him of his jism which already threatened to fill her to overflowing.

He withdrew from her still-milking sex slot with a cry of triumph. „Jesus, she’s hot,“ he cried.

„Here, Giorgio, come and get it while it’s fresh!“

The men changed places quickly and immediately her legs, which were hanging down loosely as she sat in her human chair, were scooped up and placed on the broad shoulders of the most thickset and hairy man she had ever seen.

Grasping the back of her thighs, the man lowered his head and burrowed his face into her sex, thrusting his tongue deep inside, licking and rolling her ringed and swollen clitoris methodically around his mouth.

Fresh thrills began to course through Tamara’s body and, once more, the bizarre sensation of being held by two men while a third had his way with her lent an added dimension to the feelings of lasciviousness being generated in her sex channel.

„That’s enough, Giorgio!“ said the first man after five minutes or so during which Tamara had to thrust her clenched fist into her mouth to stop herself screaming encouragement to her strange lover.

The thickset man discontinued his attentions and stepped back with a leer at the shaking girl held so degradingly open in front of him. „You liked that, huh?“ he sneered.

The storeroom door opened and closed. „Here, let me give you a hand, boys,“ grinned another white coveralled man. He replaced one of Tamara’s holders, who promptly once again raised and spread her legs, supporting them, too, on his shoulders as he guided his stiff ramrod into her newly cleaned, freshly stimulated crotch.

The thickset man and the two men holding her were all watching avidly. The three heads were all so close together that they were literally breathing the same air while the fourth man’s thick shaft pistoned in and out of the juicy hole with mechanical force and regularity, oblivious to anything else.

He climaxed quickly, much too soon for Tamara to cum again, and she groaned in disappointment as he withdrew and stood back. „Ok Giorgio, come and get it! Vitamins awaitin’.“

Giorgio promptly dived back between Tamara’s shaking legs to take up his position once more, burrowing into her slot with added vigour to do his duty. Nonetheless, he was soon back watching as the most recent member of the horny group took his place in the saddle, finishing her off quite nicely and bringing her to another shattering series of rippling orgasms that left her breathless.

Almost as soon as he had withdrawn, Tamara was set back on wobbling legs. Grinning, the leader pointed to a small washbasin in the corner. „Go and clean yourself up, sweetness!“ he ordered. „Be quick and get yourself back in the kitchen! There’s plenty to do out there.“

Still gasping for breath, Tamara stumbled over to the washbasin and ran the water. It was cold and there was no soap, yet she did the best she could. Miserably, she stripped off the maid’s dress and stood naked in front of the men, struggling to wash herself clean with the aid of water from her cupped hands. There was no towel so, once she had finished, she pulled the tiny dress back over her still wet body and walked wearily back into the kitchen.

The place was still busy and people were still rushing about. Nobody seemed to have noticed anything untoward. For the next hour or so, she was kept busy taking food and drink out to the tables, her damp, absurdly abbreviated costume doing little to cover her body or prevent the many hands taking embarrassing liberties with her private parts.

In company with Alyssa and carrying a tray of champagne and glasses, Tamara looked up as they passed the stage and her stomach lurched. Starkly illuminated by spotlights, Aimee was now spread-eagled upside down on an apparatus which looked suspiciously like an operating table. The table top on which she was strapped was flanged and hinged in several places, obviously to facilitate its widening, shortening, lengthening, heightening, or even dividing of the metal surface.

Right now it was positioned so that it was facing out towards the centre of the big room and tipped down to an angle of about eighty degrees. The upper and lower halves had been widely parted to form a large ‚X’.

The spotlighting was so good that, even from some thirty feet or so away, Tamara could plainly see the marks of whip and cane all over Aimee’s body. The red head’s mouth was stretched wide around the familiarly large metal ring jammed behind her teeth. Wires were clamped both to the rings in her nipples and to her ringed clitoris, each leading to a control box attached to the metal upright. The little redhead was drooling helplessly.

Horrified, Tamara saw the huge phallus penetrating the smooth, hairless lips and saw the wires snaking away. Just how deeply the electrified imitation cock had been forced inside Aimee’s sexual channel was anyone’s guess. A similar wired object also protruded from her anus. As before in the torture cellar, the control box was alive with a mixture of red and green winking lights and from the way the girl’s body was jerking in time with their sequence. It was plain that the nipple clamps and the devices in her twin holes were all electrically active.

On the other side of the stage, strapped similarly to another table, Tamara saw one of the young ponyboys from the barn. Like Aimee, he was completely naked and, amazingly considering his predicament, sporting the most enormous erection. His body was completely hairless and a thick metal ring was clamped tightly around the base of his darkly swollen penis. Looking closer, Tamara could see that tightly tied thin leather thongs also painfully separated his testicles. The young man’s mouth was also stretched wide around another large, drool-making steel ring and, like Aimee, the unmistakable shape of an imitation penis protruded from his anus. Horribly, the head of his own erect penis had been pierced and also housed a thick, steel ring.

The young man had been branded, too; the letters ‚DOBBIN’ burned deep into the flesh of his lower belly just above his genitals. As with Aimee, he was wired to one of the little black boxes. It was hot under the spotlights and sweat was running in uncontrolled streams down the ponyboy’s jerking body to join the little pools of drool under his straining head.

Even as Tamara watched, the young man suddenly contorted, straining outwards from the table as far as he could go, every muscle and tendon clearly defined. He remained like this for five seconds or so, his blood engorged, darkly-swollen penis pumping uselessly into thin air, before slumping limply back down as the electric current obviously switched itself off.

Twenty seconds or so passed and then, abruptly, the young man’s body was once again at full stretch as the current came back on again. As Tamara watched in fascination, the sequence was repeated again; then again and again, over and over; each time subjecting the spread-eagled, sweating body to a five second jolt of electricity.

Tamara’s heart thumped alarmingly. Despite the apparent savagery of what was being done to the hapless suspended pair, she had to confess to being somewhat aroused by the spectacle. Briefly she wondered if Madame would ever do the same to her.

„Isn’t it dangerous?“ she whispered to Alyssa.

„No, not really,“ replied the other girl in the same whisper, „unless you have a bad heart or something. The shocks are from quite small batteries; not enough to do any real damage.“ She pointed a finger at herself. „They put me up there at the last party. Madame said it was to teach me my place.“

„My God,“ said Tamara. „You were tortured like that?“ She looked at the spread-eagled, jerking prisoners. „God, it looks awful.“

„Not too bad, as long as the power isn’t turned up too much.“ She indicated the tied down boy.

„Michael has been here before, too. His Master brings him for the parties. Look, he is enjoying himself. See his cock! He likes what they do to him.“ She looked towards the girl on the other table and frowned. „I don’t know about the girl. She’s your friend, isn’t she? Maybe she’s not having such a good time. Oh, you can see she likes the dildo in her cunt, we all do; but I don’t think she’s quite so keen on the wires to her nipples, or that thing up her ass.“

Tamara looked at the couple with a mixture of horror and curiosity. How could anyone actually like something like this? Yet, picturing herself being spread on the metal table, she was forced to admit to a distinct if bizarre thrill of excitement and arousal. She felt herself getting wet again and, once more disgusted with herself, closed her eyes for a moment. What kind of monster had she become, she thought helplessly, that such things could cause her such excitement?

„Back to work now!“ whispered Alyssa urgently. „Don’t let anyone see you slacking or we’re both for it!“

Reluctantly, Tamara turned away and returned to work, carrying the champagne and glasses to the table at which sat four expensively dressed men.

As she reached awkwardly right across the table to set out the glasses, Tamara felt her short skirt lifted and a rough hand insinuate itself between her legs. She jerked in alarm and one of her breasts slipped out of the absurdly low-cut satin bodice.

„Hey man,“ chortled one of the men, a white-haired, good-looking guy of around fifty or so.

„Get a load of those tits. Someone’s already given ‚em a couple of good licks and, Jesus, they’ve even ringed her nipples.“

As if the accidental display was a trigger, the other three men were at her immediately, hands pawing and probing everywhere. There was a tearing sound and the low-cut bodice of her dress was torn open to the waist, allowing her shapely gourds to spill out completely. In what seemed to be a planned and co-ordinated operation, Tamara was grabbed and roughly turned over on to her back, held spread-eagled across the table while the men investigated her helpless charms. Her branded mound and the rings in her labia and clitoris seemed to fascinate them and, quite unable to resist, she could only splutter her protests when the white-haired man unzipped his fly to reveal a quite monstrous erection. Ignoring her protests he thrust the thick veined shaft straight into her gaping mouth. At the same time one of his companions inserted his own hardening penis into the still sopping wet channel between her widespread legs.

The two men were very excited and came very quickly, immediately withdrawing from their shuddering victim to allow the other two to take their place. Gasping and crying, Tamara could do nothing but lie helpless on the table while her mouth and sex slot were ruthlessly plundered.

Unluckily for Tamara, as had the first two assailants, these men also climaxed very quickly, spurting their hot seed into her squirming body before she had a chance to climax; leaving her sprawled helplessly across the table totally unsatisfied.

„Thanks a lot, girlie,“ laughed one of the men breathlessly, reaching between her spread thighs to tuck a folded twenty pound note into her gaping, semen-leaking channel, then helped her from the table to stand on rubbery legs.

Tamara looked at their laughing faces and any sexual feelings she might have deserted her in a moment, leaving her sick and ashamed. Walking gingerly back to the kitchen, holding her torn dress about herself as well as she could, she was brought up short by a hand taking a talon-like grip on her shoulder. Turning, she saw Annaliese with a look on her face. Grinning broadly, Jason stood just behind her.

„Well now, slut,“ said Annaliese, reaching out to snatch the soiled note from where it still protruded from between Tamara’s thighs. „You just couldn’t wait to get some cock in your mouth and up your cunt, could you? Well, I’m going to teach you what happens to silly little slaves who give blow-jobs and get themselves fucked without permission.“ Taking Tamara by the hair, she began to drag her towards the back of the room.

„Oh, please, Mistress“ whimpered Tamara. „It wasn’t my fault. They held me down. Please, Mistress. I couldn’t help it.“

„Balls,“ snapped Annaliese. „You could have resisted, couldn’t you? Waitresses are here to be played with; not fucked.“ She nodded at Jason. „We both saw what happened. You were enjoying it. We could both see that. Well; that deserves punishment.“

It wasn’t fair, of course; the fuck, although admittedly enjoyable, had not been something she could possibly have avoided. And as for resisting, this of course was strictly forbidden to slaves.

They passed through a door at the back of the room and the sound of music was abruptly reduced to a murmur. Still dragged by the hair, Tamara allowed herself to be pulled into a dressing room complete with bath, dressing table and a large mirror.

„Get this big-titted slut ready for display!“ snapped Annaliese to Jason. „Tonight she goes in the pillory. I’ll clear it with her Master.“ Releasing Tamara’s hair, she looked her with an icy gaze.

„Now then, slave,“ she said harshly. „You do exactly as you’re told without argument or Jason will personally take the skin right off that fat ass of yours. Understand?“

Tamara nodded, more tears forming in the corners of her eyes. It was all so unfair. Her behind, though shapely, was certainly not fat now; and what had happened either at the table or earlier in the kitchen had certainly not been her fault.

„Don’t take too long, Jason!“ growled Annaliese. „As soon as you’ve cleaned her up, inside and out, mind, take her out and put her centre stage. Ok?“

„Yes, Madame,“ said Jason. Grinning even wider, the he turned to Tamara and held up a shiny pair of handcuffs. „Ok, Big Tits;“ he said gleefully, „get those clothes off and hands behind your back!“

Reluctantly Tamara slipped out of what was left of the ruined maid’s outfit, then reluctantly turned and placed her hands behind her back.

„Open wide!“ said Jason cheerfully.

Sick at heart, Tamara opened her mouth to accommodate the enormous ball gag that strained her mouth to its maximum.

„You know, Big Tits,“ Jason chuckled, „you don’t seem to have much sense at all.“ Smiling, he closed his hands around her heaving breasts. „They are somethin’, though.“ His fingers closed painfully on her swollen nipples. „Love the rings. Bet they’re sore, aren’t they?“

Silently, a tear forming in the corner of her eye, Tamara nodded, standing as still as she could while the young black fingered her poor transfixed nipples. When he tired of these, he moved his attention down to her slippery vagina, casually slipping a couple of fingers deep inside and causing her to rotate her hips in automatic response.

Jason chuckled at her automatic wetness. He wriggled his fingers to and fro in her vaginal canal while her automatic, rocking, coital movements increased; then stopped abruptly and withdrew the shiny digits. Tamara moaned in frustration and he chuckled again. „Sorry Big Tits; you’re just gonna have to wait. First I’ve got to clean you up like Miss Annaliese said.“

The following ten minutes were an education for the helpless Tamara. Once again denied both speech and the use of her hands, she was dumped unceremoniously into a tepid bath by the grinning Jason, who then proceeded to soap and sponge her thoroughly, no part of her body escaping his intimate attentions. To her embarrassment and extreme discomfort, the insides of both her vaginal and anal canals were also thoroughly cleaned and rinsed with the aid first of a round brush with prickly bristles, and then a small hose-pipe arrangement fitted to the portable shower head.

When she was eventually cleaned to his satisfaction, Jason finally removed the drool-making ball from Tamara’s aching mouth, efficiently cleaning her teeth with brush and toothpaste before helping her out of the bath, where he finally dried her with a rough towel.

Tamara broke the silence first. „Please, sir, what’s happening? What are you going to do to me?“ she croaked, moving her stretched jaws with some difficulty, automatically widening her legs as he roughly dried her lower belly and pubis. „Please, can’t you tell me!“

Jason grinned and sawed the towel backwards and forwards painfully between her legs. „Sorry.

Can’t. Orders.“

„Please.“

„Shhhhhh!“

Tamara abruptly subsided into silence as the young black reached round to squeeze one nipple painfully between his thumb and forefinger. With another grin, Jason held up a thin leather hood in his other hand. The mouth opening was padded around a large oval shaped ring, obviously designed to fit behind the wearer’s teeth.

Tamara looked in horror at the thing, sizing it up quickly. The padded ring was big, much too big to go in her mouth and, though there was a hole designed to fit around the wearer’s nose, the hood had no eye or ear apertures. Panic began to take over. „Please!“ she protested wildly. „I can’t stand being blindfolded. Don’t put that thing on me, please! Oh God, please sir, I’ll do anything you want, I promise.“

Jason, somewhat predictably, was totally unsympathetic. „Open wide!“ was all he said, offering up the padded ring to her mouth.

Defeated, Tamara closed her eyes and opened up, grimacing as the thing was forced between her teeth. Widening her jaws to a point where she thought she might never get them closed again, all was abruptly dark as the leather of the hood was peeled over her face and snugged tight at the back of her neck.

She gave a little scream as one nipple ring was tugged forcefully out from her body, then relaxed a little as she felt what could only be a thin rope being passed through it. Then it was the turn of the other ring to be similarly threaded.

„Nnnnng,“ she gurgled, as Jason’s casual: „Come on, then!“ was accompanied by a none too gentle, painful tug on the rope. Eyes and ears completely covered by the hood, Tamara stumbled blindly after her huge captor, steered somewhat painfully by her nipple reins.

Somewhere in front of her a door opened and, even under the all enveloping hood, the level of the music suddenly rose by a couple of hundred decibels. Obviously they were back in the main room.

„Five steps upwards right in front of you.“ She heard Jason’s voice faintly over the music.

Blindly, she felt for the first step, then forced herself to climb the stairs, each move accompanied by a painful tug on her reins. Climbing blindly with her hands cuffed behind her back was quite terrifying, especially as her only real connection to the world outside her hood was by the rope attached to her extremely sensitive and painful nipples.

„This way, Big Tits!“ came the order as she finally mounted the last step. Encouraged again by sharp tugs on the rope, she moved forward until she felt her lower belly bump up against something padded. Some kind of seat? Realisation flooded suddenly into her mind as Jason turned her round and she felt heat radiating from somewhere overhead. Spotlights? She must be on the platform where Annaliese had caned Aimee to orgasm.

„Nnnnnnnnnnnnng. Nnnnnng.“ she gurgled, which loosely translated as: ‚Please, don’t!’

„Shut up!“

Forced to bend backwards over the padded seat, Tamara gurgled uselessly as Jason guided her neck into the centre recess of what was obviously some kind of pillory. Tamara forced herself to remain quite still as her hands were also guided backwards to their appropriate recesses.

Click.

A heavy metal bar came down to imprison both neck and wrists.

„Spread your legs!“ came the growled order, coupled with a painful tug at her ringed and swollen nipples.

„Nnnnnng,“ she gurgled as a wide spreader bar was buckled between her ankles.

What happened next was worse.

„Nnnnnng. Nnnnnng,“ she protested as the cords from her nipple rings were stretched agonisingly upwards and secured to something directly above her now elongated breasts. She breathed hard through her open mouth, the extreme vulnerability of her position painfully impressed upon her. As uncomfortable and degrading as it was; so long as she stayed exactly as Jason had placed her; mouth, vagina and breasts presented conveniently for the attention of anyone who cared to use or abuse any or all of them, things wouldn’t be too bad. Of course, if she tried to move she’d automatically cause herself real pain, as she found out straight away, groaning and wriggling mindlessly on the probing digit when a hand insinuated itself between her thighs to tease and investigate her already moistening slit.

„Feel good, Big Tits?“ chuckled Jason.

Tamara’s hips rolled and she groaned anew, her tied-off nipples feeling as if they might be torn from her body. How much of this could she stand, she wondered? How much would she have to stand? Knowing Annaliese’s twisted mind, she was probably going to be here for some time, trussed up like some kind of offering to satisfy the bizarre sexual appetites of someone, but who and how many?

„See you later, Big Tits,“ chuckled an obviously amused Jason as he walked away. „Just stay as you are and be a good girl!“

For a long time she was left alone until, pain-filled aeons later, she heard footsteps approaching across the stage. Lighter than Jason’s. A woman? Then she recognised the familiar chuckle.

Annaliese!

„Well, I must say you look pretty good, slut.“

„Uurrrrrgh.“ Tamara groaned through the steel ring as the quirt teased her breasts, her captive nipples once more bearing the brunt of the fresh assault.

„I shall turn the spotlight on in a moment or two,“ whispered Annaliese softly in Tamara’s ear.

„Then the boys and girls can come up to play with you.“

The footsteps receded then, nothing. Just the muted, incessant, mind-numbing, thumping music and the faraway, interminable buzz of conversation from the floor of the large auditorium. Tamara groaned, her throbbing nipples adding to the strain of the humiliating position in which she had been placed. Yet the brutal carnality of what was being done to her was overwhelming and she had already begun fantasising that a never-ending succession of men and women would shortly step up to use her helpless, indecently presented body. That part of her mind still in touch with reality kept insisting that this was just fantasy, yet the shocking image of the naked and spread-eagled Aimee actually lifting her breasts to the cane was already incredibly prompting her own pouting slit to uncontrolled wetness.

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