Chapter 5

"Thank you, Mistress." My plaything's words so soft, but their meaning so plain to see in her eyes. '3' stood behind her as I lowered the winch and released my girl's bonds. With 3's assistance my plaything had just enough strength left to walk back to the cell. Once inside '3' guided her into the shower and again washed her quickly but thoroughly, before drying her and helping her to the bed. My plaything was asleep before '3' left the cell, closing the door behind her.

Sleep did not come as easy for me that night. My plaything's words kept repeating, "Thank you, Mistress." I did not doubt their sincerity, however my girl had spirit, which was quite obviously not broken, these few days were not sufficient time for her to become so willingly submissive, were they? As I considered what to do to test my girl, my gaze drifted to the row of pictures, focusing on each one, until at last I reached the last one, the empty seventh frame, my mind picturing my plaything, dressed in the house style, white leather and black lace. Decision made, a few quick calls and everything was arranged for tomorrow.

The big screen in the study showed my plaything busy about her morning preparations. I had almost finished my morning tea when Master Richard joined me, accompanied by '3' who had shown him the way, and who now knelt beside my chair, my plaything's breakfast bowl in her hands. After reminding Master Richard of the limits I had set, and receiving his assurance all would be as agreed, I made my way to the Dungeon, bowl in hand.

My plaything was kneeling in her proper place, her posture perfect, the look from last night still reflected in her eyes. As I took my place in the chair opposite the cell, the door lock clicked, my plaything opening it to crawl forward until she was again kneeling, this time at my feet. "Good morning, Mistress." Her voice soft, sure of her words yet unsure of my reaction. I smiled as I placed her breakfast bowl not on the floor, but on my lap. As I selected each morsel and fed it to my plaything, she listened intently to my commands.

"For the next twenty-four hours you will serve Master Richard. You will obey him as you would obey me, take care to show unhesitating obedience, for any failure will be punished both by Master Richard and again by me, and you know what that means..." My plaything's reaction was both predictable and tightly controlled, her desire to please me quite obvious, but mixed with trepidation at the thought of her next task...

"Whilst you are serving Master Richard, you will at ALL times maintain contact with his cock, hand, mouth, cunt or ass, as appropriate, each break in contact will add a full day to your punishment." My plaything shivered at the thought, then stilled as I cupped her chin in my hand, our eyes locked as I spoke. "I heard you last night, you pleased me, complete this task and I will please you." Her eyes answered for her, no words were needed.

"Master Richard is staying in a guest suite here, he may choose to spend the time in his suite, or in any other part of the guest wing." On cue, '3' opened the Dungeon door, Master Richard entered, his eyes taking in the sight of my beautiful plaything kneeling so perfectly before me, as he crossed the dungeon to join me. I stood, lifting my hand from my plaything's cheek, that my fingers had been unconsciously caressing.

"Your task begins," I told my plaything, watching as she turned slightly, so as to be kneeling directly before her temporary Master. Reaching up, she carefully unzipped his trousers and eased his cock out, cupping him in her hand, before leaning forward to kiss the cock-head.

"Stand." he commanded, before walking from the dungeon, making no allowance for my plaything, who hurried to maintain her hold and obey my commands. I waited until the door closed behind them, then turned to '3', time to attend to her continued training...

I want to think, I need to think, but I'm too tired and exhausted after this day and fall asleep before I hear the door of the cell being closed. I'm not feeling too good when I wake up, I dreamed weird and frightening dreams and woke up two or three times during the night, covered in sweat, disoriented and confused, struggling to remember where I am and to separate dream from reality, but can't remember my dreams anymore.

After a visit to the bathroom I kneel behind the door once again and hope that I will have some time to think now. There's so much I don't understand, so much I want to ask and need to know, yet so far I had never had the chance to ask. Well, maybe I should have just gone ahead and asked, but I got the impression that blurting out my questions without permission would only get me into trouble. And then there is one thing I really have to think about. I close my eyes and try to picture myself, kneeling on the floor of the cell.

Yes, there's a lot to think about, confusion, conflicting feelings and emotions, what is expected from me, my behaviour ... Like yesterday, for example: I actually thanked the bitch for letting me cum. Hell, next time I'll probably thank her for a whipping, too.

Get a grip, Jamie!!! You're being held captive here, have been forced to do things you never wanted to do! The bitch has done things to you that shouldn't be done to any human being! You don't say "Thank you, Mistress" to such a person. You kick her ass. Hard, repeatedly. And then again, only harder.

Yeah, right, and spend the next week upside down, hanging from my ankles, having my pussytitsassthighs whipped until the skin breaks open and peels off like the bodystocking on the mannequin. Or some other devilish punishment. Besides, yesterday and the day before have been wonderful, at least partially. Yesterday's orgasm easily makes it into the 'list of the best five orgasms ever had by Jamie.' Probably right on top. But then again, it was just an orgasm. I don't live only to cum. There are things I want to do besides that. Ok, not that many, granted. But still, I had a life. I had plans. All that has been taken away from me. And worst of all, I am left with no choice.

On the other hand I had just been a whore, although I preferred to think of myself as an escort. It was still whoring, I'm not going to fool myself about that. It was basically the same as what I'm doing here, only more boring and less painful.

The door opens before I can finish my line of thoughts. I quickly decide that for the time being I will try to do what I'm being told until I have some more time to reflect on everything. I quickly make my way to her feet and she tells me about today's programm while she feeds me. The thought of having to suck or hold a cock or be fucked in any hole - probably all of them - during the next 24 hours sends a shiver down my spine.

"I heard you last night, you pleased me, complete this task and I will please you." Uh huh. Right. I look into her eyes without saying a word. I know I'll try and do my best to please her, and I also know that she knows too.

Then the door opens and a man enters, followed by the girl. I turn around to face him. He's quite young, only a couple of years older than I am, lean, with dark, short cropped hair above eyebrows that could do with some trimming. His eyes show admiration and lust as he looks at me, but his jaw is set and if I had to name the expression on his face it would have to be 'stern'.

I unzip his trousers and get his cock out to kiss it, figuring that he'll like that. Next he orders me to stand and starts to walk away, while I struggle to keep him in my hand and follow him at a brisk pace. We go upstairs, then through a long corridor, I look into a room on our left and see a large salon with a small stage, probably the place where I have been yesterday, when everybody touched me and where I had been assfucked by a cock and facefucked by a pussy.

We turn a corner and I have to quicken my pace to keep up with him, down another hall until he stops in front of a door and pushes it open.

The room is quite large, like a hotel room, except for the large mirror on the ceiling above the king size bed and a couple of ringbolts in the ceiling. Guess you can't really enjoy a room if you can't hang a poor girl from a ringbolt.

So far he hasn't spoken a word except for the "stand" and he doesn't turn out to be the talkative type now either. He walks to a chair, turns around so that I quickly have to reach around him with my other arm, struggling once again not to lose contact with his cock.

'Asshole', I think, as he sits down. 'Fucking asshole'. As if it weren't ridiculous and humiliating enough to have to keep contact with a cock for 24 hours. No, the jerk has to make it extra difficult. However, I'm not stupid enough to let him know what I'm thinking and I'm also not stupid enough not to know what is expected from me. So, I go down on him and start to suck him off. Giving him a blowjob is a homerun. I'm good at cocksucking.

He obviously thinks that too, at least he pats my head as I lick the last drops of his cum from his dick and my lips.

"Well done, cunt," is all he says. My head jerks to glare up at him for a split second. "Just because I have a cunt doesn't mean I am a cunt," I want to spit at him but luckily I can hold myself back at the last moment.

From then on, it gets kinda awkward. He wants to look at me and I have to pose in front of him, all the time touching him, showing him my ass, my pussy, thrust out my tits, everything. Then he decides he wants to see my ass again and I have to stand with my back to him, bent over, legs spread, one hand reaching for his cock between my legs. I stand like this for some time, until he tells me to move away a bit. Next he gives me a hard slap on my left buttock. I yelp, not because it's that painful, but because I didn't expect it.

"You thank me for every slap, bitch," he orders and in the next thirty minutes or more I get to say "Thank you for spanking me, Master Richard," a couple dozen times. I wonder why he spanks me, but then I recognize that it doesn't matter at all. He might do it because he likes to see my butt turn red, he might do it because he likes to inflict pain on me, or because he likes to see me suffering. Or he might do it just because he can. It is no difference for me.

It might not have hurt in the beginning, but it sure does after a while and by the time he's finished, my butt feels like it's on fire and I scream after every slap and before I can say my thanks. But then it's over and I have lift my leg over my arm and kneel in front of him again, my ass aflame, stinging with the pain.

"Next I'm gonna whip your cunt before I fuck you. I love to fuck a freshly whipped cunt." I remain silent and I don't look at him and I don't nod my head in agreement. I'm not going to fake approval of what I'm not approving.

The training session with '3' went well, right up to the point when the back of my neck started tingling. There is a spot, right at the top of my spine, that if caressed ... well anyway, the same spot is responsible for alerting me to a subconscious felling of ill-ease, and part way through the session it started positively prickling. I paused from tormenting '3' with the violet wand, letting her twist and writhe as I considered the cause for my unease. The answer was obvious, Master Richard.

The purpose of his stay was to learn some additional skills, the introductory part complete, I had thought him both a suitable and available Dominant to the assist with my plaything's training, but now, thinking back to the Dungeon, there was something out of place. A young Dominant, offered the opportunity to have a slave attend to his cock constantly for twenty-four hours is likely to react in one of several ways. Master Richard displayed no such response. Signalling to the camera to lock onto '3', I checked her, released her bonds, ordered her to remain in place, and walked quickly to the study, the big screen monitor would confirm my suspicions.

Switching channels the screen showed Master Richard administering a reasonably severe spanking to my plaything, turning up the volume I watched and listened as he continued, my plaything by now screaming after each blow, before obediently responding as he had no doubt instructed. "Thank you for spanking me, Master Richard." My concern was indeed justified, not because of the severity of the spanking, but because of his demeanour, the expression on his face was not unfamiliar, it was however repulsive.

A true Dominant, even those of the sadistic genre, understand their responsibilities, the difference between hurt and harm, between inflicting pain and outright abuse. Until now Master Richard had been under instruction, as a Dominant without his own submissive nobody had observed him when alone and unsupervised. The speaker filled the study with his words, "Next I'm gonna whip your cunt before I fuck you. I love to fuck a freshly whipped cunt."

Part of my purpose in having my plaything spend twenty-four hours in constant cock-worship was to give her body a chance to recuperate from the punishment it had already absorbed, a pussy whipping breached the limits I had imposed upon Master Richard's time with my beautiful plaything. The intercom allowed instant contact with the staff, my instructions were precise, Gore would be ready, in the event that certain of his skills were required...

'Master Richard' gets up and walks to a table, me scrambling after him on my knees. If it weren't so humiliating it would be funny. Then back to the bed where he has me lying on my back, head towards him, stroking his semi-erect cock, feet pulled up under my knees and my hips raised, my pussy nicely exposed. I close my eyes when he raises his hand and brings it down, a scream escapes my lips in anticipation of the pain.

But the pain never comes. I open my eyes again and look first at my legs, where the cane is hovering just an inch over my parted pussy lips. Then I look up at him. I can't make out the expression with his face being turned upside down, but I'd bet my left hand that he's grinning evilly. I also notice that his cock isn't semi-erect anymore. The cane touches my pussy, my clit, lightly taps it a few times, then a bit harder, once, twice, just hard enough to send a little jolt of pain through it.

I feel myself reacting to it, that familiar tingling sensation. Noooo, I don't want to get wet and horny, but I know that I will. I keep looking up at him, slowly stroking the dick, waiting. The tapping stops and the cane slides between the lips, slowly moving forth and back, the soft friction arousing me even more. This goes on for a while until he brings the cane in front of my face. I don't need to look at it to know that it's glistening with my juices.

"See that, cunt?"

Of course I see it, you idiot, I'm gifted with the ability of eyesight... "Yes Sir."

"You enjoy it, cunt?"