"That special dildo you made for me is wonderful!" the brunette gushed, "Your design is SO wicked! You just had to put the vibrating clit stimulator all the way at the base, didn't you?"
I smiled, "That was to ensure that you got the full benefit of the phallus!"
"But, oh, how it stretches me!" she said, rubbing her thighs together, "I have to push the whole thing in to get the vibrator to touch my clit!"
"And how did you like the little red button?" I asked mildly.
Samantha gasped, "How did you know I... ?"
"Because I warned you NOT to!" I laughed, "So how was it!"
"Well, I understand now why you made it so it wouldn't work unless it was fully inserted!" she replied sheepishly.
"So how was it?" I asked again.
"Oh my GOD!" she couldn't sit still, thinking about it. "When that collar inflated inside me and I realized it was locked in, I thought I would DIE! But when it started FUCKING me... ! Mike, that thing is MEAN! I came and came and it wouldn't stop! FINALLY, after about fifteen minutes of non-stop orgasm, it wound down and deflated. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed!"
"Yeah, be careful with that." I cautioned, "It's on a random timer. It can keep you going anywhere from five to twenty minutes!"
"Twenty minutes!" she gasped, "I'd die!"
"No," I replied, "there are sensors that can detect if you pass out, thanks to modern technology, and it will shut down automatically."
"That's good to know!" Samantha couldn't keep her legs still.
"So I take it you are happy with your purchase?" I asked, rather smugly.
She nodded, smiling, and said, "A little afraid of it, but happy, nonetheless!"
"So what brings you to my little house in the woods today, Samantha?" I asked, "Need something to stimulate another orifice while my little pleasure giver is at work?"
"Ooooh!" she exclaimed, thighs rubbing together again, "That's VERY tempting, but another time, perhaps! No, I came to you because you seem to have some... At least I'm hoping you know someone who can... That is, well, look; I'm in my late thirties, divorced, and that dildo is the most exciting sex I've had in my life! I want to experience more, but in this gossip driven community, I don't dare! I was hoping you might know someone who can help me fulfill a fantasy or two, without anyone knowing..."
My guard went up. I wasn't really sure if she was on good terms with her ex, the Sheriff's deputy, but I didn't want to take chances, so I shrugged and said, "I can ask around. What kind of fantasies are we talking about?"
Samantha blushed deep red before replying, "This is SO embarrassing! You won't tell anybody, will you?"
I pretended to think, very hard about that. "Let me see... ! Hmmm! Me, the guy who made and sold you a very expensive fucking machine... Should I embarrass one of my customers in public, knowing that my other customers will stop buying from me because I can't keep my big mouth shut? Nah! I guess it's better I don't say anything!"
To be honest, I didn't need the money from the sale of those little custom gadgets that I made for the local women, but it gave me a pseudo-visible means of support, and made me someone with whom people knew they could share secrets, so I got to learn more about the workings of the community and the people in it. If I had wanted to, I could have blackmailed half the leading citizens and embarrassed the hell out of the rest, but that wasn't my purpose. All I really wanted was a little leverage, should I ever need it.
"Well," Samantha began, "I'd kinda like to experience what sex is like with another woman..."
"Okay." I said, "What else?"
When I didn't react adversely to her first fantasy, Samantha became more bold. "I want to be in a sandwich - to see what it's like to have two big, hard, cocks pounding me at the same time!"
"Is that it?" I asked.
"Isn't that enough?" she cried.
"That's up to you. I'll make a few calls, and if I can set something up, I'll let you know."
Two days later, I called Samantha at home.
"Friday night, 8:30PM, my place. Plan to stay overnight." That's all I said, then I hung up.
She drove up a little early, and I checked the security system for any sign that she might have been followed. Neither it, nor the dogs, gave any sign of anyone else being around.
I held a hypodermic syringe in plain sight as Samantha came through the door. It contained one of two knockout doses that Doc had given me.
"What's that for?" she asked, eyeing the syringe suspiciously.
"The person who owns the place where we're going," I replied, "doesn't know if you can be trusted, so he doesn't want you having any clues about how to find the place. This will knock you out for about an hour, but shouldn't leave much in the way of lingering effects. I'm sorry, but that's the only way we can do this."
Samantha was still suspicious, but she finally said, "Well, I guess I have to trust you. You're not going to sell me to some slaver in Timbuktu somewhere, are you?"
"Don't know any slavers - in Timbuktu or anywhere else," I answered seriously, "but if I ever met one, one of us would wind up dead. I believe in slavery only when the slave consents to his or her enslavement. For some people it's a chosen way of life, but for those who don't choose to live their lives that way, it's hell. Believe me when I say that even if I hated you with every fiber of my being, I wouldn't subject you to that."
She saw the truth in my eyes, and simply pulled up the short sleeve of her top, exposing the meaty part of her upper arm.
The drug was fast-acting, and I barely had time to set the syringe down before Samantha collapsed into my arms. I let her fold over my shoulder and used a fireman's carry to get her through the kitchen and down to my dungeon. You know, on TV, when the girl passes out and the hero carries her cradled in his arms? Try that sometime with someone who's truly out! With all the muscles relaxed, it's very hard to keep a body from slipping out of your arms. That's why I prefer the fireman's carry for unconscious people.
Doc assured me that the dose would not last very long and the side effects would be minimal. Amy and I undressed our victim and bound her, face up, on one of the benches, her legs held wide apart.
While she was out, I took the opportunity to pierce Samantha's clit and nipples, installing short, stainless barbells, each with a screw-on ball at one end, and a soldered-on ball at the other. This would help keep her pliable for this session, but could be removed if she didn't want to wear them all the time.
In a short time, Samantha began to stir and I nodded at Amy who took her position astride Samantha's bound body. The first thing Samantha saw when she blearily opened her eyes, was Amy's auburn bush and pierced clit. I watched as her startled eyes traveled upward, taking in my slave's lovely breasts with their shiny jewelry, and landing on her smiling face.
At first Samantha showed no sign of recognition, then some of the fog of the drug cleared away and her eyes flashed wide open!
"Amy?!" she cried, "What are YOU doing here?!"
I answered in Amy's stead, "Amy is my slave. She will help you with the first part of your fantasy. Since you weren't specific about HOW you wanted to be with a woman, I took a few liberties in arranging this little scenario."
"Oh, NO!" Samantha cried, "I can't do this! She'll tell everyone at the diner! I'll be the laughingstock of the community!"
"Amy, please tell Samantha how long you have been my slave." I commanded.
"One year, eight months and..." Amy's eyes looked upward for a moment, "sixteen days!"
"Samantha, did you know that Amy was my slave?" I asked.
"Well, no..." she replied, "I mean, everybody knows you two have a thing going on, but I never DREAMED..."
"So would you say that Amy is capable of keeping a secret?" I interrupted.
Samantha gazed at the young lady's smiling face and replied slowly, "I guess she MUST be!"
"Amy," I asked, "are you going to tell anyone about what goes on here tonight?"
Amy looked as if I had slapped her, and retorted, "Of course not, Sir!"
"Does that ease your mind any, Samantha?"
There was a long pause before Samantha answered, "Yes, I suppose it does."
As if seeing it for the first time, Samantha's wide-eyed gaze swept the dungeon, taking in the fixtures, toys, devices, and restraints.
"What IS this place?" she asked in wonder, apparently noticing a few other things for the first time too, "Why do my nipples and pussy hurt, and why can't I move?"
"The owner of this place doesn't wish to be identified." I replied, "He has allowed us to use it for tonight. You can't move because Amy wants to be paid up front for the services she's about to perform. Amy, would you be so kind as to show the nice lady why her nipples and clit hurt?"
Amy held up a length of cord with a loop tied in each end, so that Samantha could see it. Smiling wickedly, she stepped backward along Samantha's body, until Samantha's breasts were positioned in front of her. Samantha's eyes followed the small loop in Amy's right hand as it descended toward the bound woman's left breast.
.... There is more of this story ...