“Good. Get used to it. It may be the staple of your diet for a while.” The men
laughed. Jessica groaned to herself. What was she in for? And would Michael
ever find out?

As the limo sped on into the day, Jessica could not but wonder what was
happening to her. The men in the car were silent for an hour or two, then she
heard low whispers among them. Abruptly, the large auto slowed and veered off
what was obviously the interstate, but Jessica had no idea where. Her hands
were still cuffed behind her back, and she lay almost prone on the rear seat.
The sperm had long since dried on her face, but the mask was still in place.
She tried sleeping fitfully, but could not bring herself to forget the awful
humiliation of the gang rape and ejaculations on her face.

The car travelled along a somewhat bumpy road for about 20 minutes, and then
slowed and made a sharp turn. It angled upwards, and Jessica felt the huge
machine gear down and climb up a twisting, torturous road. After just a few
minutes, the car slowed to a stop. She heard the rear doors open up, and felt
strong hands reach in and almost haul her out. Her nakedness embarrassed her,
as she had no idea where she was. The torment and anguish were bringing salty
tears to her eyes.

“Why are you doing this to m-” she started to say, but was interrupted by a
rubber ball gag thrust into her mouth again, shocking and almost choking her
with it’s suddenness.

“Quiet, bitch, you’ll talk when asked to. And it won’t be often, believe me!”
she heard a new voice, a feminine one at that, answer. She was led, stumbling,
up a series of rough, stone steps, through a door and into the hallway of what
she supposed was a large home of some sort. Finally the mask was taken from
her face. Jessica felt the dried cum crinkle and snap on her cheekbones. She
blinked in the dazzling light striking her eyes so suddenly after several
hours of complete darkness. When the tearing stop long enough for her to
focus, she gazed around.

The three men who had kidnapped her were gone. She stood in a long, spacious
hallway, with several large overhead windows letting in the summer sun.
Luxurious Oriental rugs lined the marble floor, and expensive works of art and
sculpture were everywhere. Obviously someone with a great deal of money lived
here. The woman, behind her now, spoke.

“Welcome to the Training Center, Jessica. My name is Eva. Before we go any
farther, I should tell you the rules here. One, don’t even think about trying
to escape. The entire property is ringed with a 12 foot stone wall that is
electrified and covered with broken glass. The driveway is the only way in or
out, and an armed guard is on duty 24 hours a day, seven days a week. We also
have several large Dobermans and Mastiffs ranging the grounds just in case you
think you might like to explore – and they love the taste of fresh meat.”

“Two, you are a captive here, and as such have no rights whatsoever. Your
entire life is in our hands. We’ll tell you what to eat, what to wear, what to
say, and where to go. We’ll tell you when you can talk, eat, drink, sleep,
shit, and piss. You will embark on a training regimen that will totally alter
your personality. You will learn servitude, humiliation, and above all
obedience to your master or masters.”

“Three, don’t think your husband can help. We’ve had your telephone re- routed
here, and your mail as well. When your husband calls, we have an excellent
mimic here who will answer the phone and play your part perfectly. In fact,
she’s going to tell him that you decided to take a little vacation and would
be out of touch for several weeks. Do you understand so far?”

Jessica nodded, barely hearing the words. She looked at the woman. She was a
tall, red-haired woman with staggeringly large breasts. She wore only a
leather belt, thigh-high boots and a studded leather collar. Her pubic area
was shaven completely bare, and her nipples looked as if they had rouge on
them. Two small rings pierced each one.

“I too am a slave here, but I was chosen by the masters to help orient the new
slaves. I receive some special treatment, but not much. And sometimes they
single me out for some really vicious treatment.” As she spoke the woman
uncuffed Jessica and removed the gag. Jessica rubbed her sore wrists and moved
her jaw, trying to get the kinks out of it.

“Why am I here? Who did this to me?”

“You’ll find out when it’s time to find out. Until then, you are in our
control. Lars here will take you to your room and show you the way to the
lounge. You will always be in the company of one of the male employees here.
You will never be alone, not even to make your toilet.” Eva gestured behind
Jessica, who turned to see Lars strolling up to them. “Lars, take Jessica to
room 12-B. Have her bathe and then bring her to the lounge. She may as well
get started on the training.”

Lars angled his head to indicate that Jessica should follow him. First, he
attached a long silver chain to a collar similar, though smaller, than the one
Eva wore around her neck. Then he fastened the collar around Jessica’s slim
neck. Her tears started to flow then. Jessica quietly sobbed as the man led
her meekly down the hall and up a short flight of stairs. Down a corridor and
into a room marked 12-B, Jessica could do nothing but weep and try to figure
the situation out.

The fishnet-clad beauty might look mean enough to be the dominating side, but in fact she’s nothing more than a horny girl willing to be controlled And of course she gets what she wants. Clips on the nipples and lips, some foot play, a dildo pound and a couple of other tricks and she’s already begging to let her cum

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“OK, enough already. Finish it off!” he said gruffly. Abruptly Jessica felt
the pounding stop and the penis was withdrawn. She was puzzled. Seconds ticked
by. She though she could hear a light slapping noise a few inches away, and
was completely at a loss. Then it happened.

SPLAT…SPLAT……SPLAT…….SPLAT………SPLAT……SPLAT. Jessica was
horrified to feel the wet splashing on her face and cheeks. She could taste
the wet saltiness on her upper lip. “HE CAME ON MY FACE!” she thought,
shuddering at it. The white streams of Erik’s ejaculate slowly dripped from
her, dropping slowly and wetly onto the upper slopes of her breasts. Jessica
had never, ever, allowed any man to do that.  On occasion, she would perform
oral sex for Michael, and at his insistence, allow him to ejaculate in her
mouth, but always had a tissue ready to spit the semen into. She thought it
distasteful and disgusting. And now, a complete stranger had raped her and
ejaculated all over her face. She could feel herself blush and redden at the
thought. She felt, rather than saw, the flashes of light and noise that
indicated a camera going off. “OH GOD, They’ve taken my picture!” she thought,
horrified.

She had no time for grief, though, as another hard penis was attacking her,
and again Jessica felt the tremors of excitement start to build. Her vagina
gave her away, slickly lubing the passage of the cock as it thrust in and out.
Her clitoris began to quiver and quake, and Jessica allowed a small orgasm to
pass. The man noticed it.

“Hey, Bruno, I think the bitch just came. I think she’s beginning to like it.”
he grunted. “Now the leader had a name – Bruno.” she thought. Jessica wondered
if this rapist would end the same way Erik had. She awaited the sudden
emptiness in her pussy, wondering when it would come. She didn’t have long to
wait.  Again, one second there was a hard, slick cock moving quickly through
her hot channel. And the next second it was gone. She felt the presence of the
man move up her body this time, and again heard the light slapping noise, but
this time she knew what it was – the man was masturbating to climax.

She waited – five seconds, ten seconds. Her breath caught. 20 seconds. Then
she heard a grunt. “Oh fuck here it comes..” she heard the voice say. Then
SPLAT…SPLAT….SPLATSPLAT……SPLAT….SPLAT…..SPLAT the cum rained down
on her features again, mixing and mingling with that of the first man. This
discharge was more copious, Jessica could feel the hot streams hitting her
distinctly. This one seemed to draw great pleasure from spraying his semen on
her. Jessica thanked God for the mask and gag, or she was sure her eyes would
be covered in it, and her mouth, awash. Even as it was, she could feel it
pooling around her lips where they encircled the ball gag. The sperm dripped
down each cheek and her chin and slowly dribbled down her forehead. She knew
it was even in her hair and ears. Jessica groaned again.

Again, the flash of a camera jolted her back to reality. Now they had pictures
of her with two successive discharges of sperm on her. The third penis began
it’s work. This one was larger than the other two, larger than any Jessica had
ever felt. It pushed it’s way roughly into her being, thrusting and bulling
towards her stomach. Jessica felt waves of revulsion begin to roil around her
as the reality of her situation struck her. She had been kidnapped from her
home, assaulted repeatedly in a car, and was being driven God knows where. Her
husband wouldn’t even know about it until at least tomorrow night when he
called, and even then the fact that that phone had been cut off may not alarm
him at all. Jessica shuddered.

This time, the cock did not last long.  “Remove the gag.” a voice said. Hands
quickly pulled the device from her mouth. Jessica drew in a deep breath,
tasting the rapidly cooling semen from her two rapists.  She momentarily
forgot that the cock had just withdrawn from her. Before she could close her
mouth in alarm, two great jets of sperm flew into it, choking her with
surprise and alarm. She quickly clamped her lips down. “Don’t swallow.” the
voice hissed in her ear.  Jessica had no intention of doing that! Strangely,
no more sperm landed on her. “Open up again.”  Jessica didn’t move her lips.
“Open up.” This time, Jessica felt a cold round tube pressing into her side,
just below her armpit. “OHGOD A GUN” she quaked. She slowly opened her lips. A
small pool of white liquid grew at the base of her jaw.  She waited. Then, in
quick succession, three jets of sperm flew from the cock held just inches from
her mouth, and splattered noisily into her mouth and lips.  Others dripped and
dropped onto her face. It seemed like the man would never finish. Jessica
counted seven complete streams of semen flying into her mouth and face.

“OK, now hold it like that. One more for the picture album. ”  Jessica felt a
stong hand grasp her jaw, holding her mouth open. The camera whirred and
clicked, flashing away in the dim light of the car. “Now swallow. And learn.”
Bruno said. Jessica shook her head, mumbling “No, no, don’t make me do that”
as best she could. The gun barrel pushed farther into her side. Jessica
realized that these people meant what they said. She closed her lips and
tilted her face down. She felt the sperm pool at the front of her mouth. Then
she steeled herself, and swallowed. It didn’t all go down the first time. She
had to swallow again. The liquid tasted salty, slightly bitter, like strong
starchy seawater. Jessica reddened and blushed again.

This guy looks huge and mean and in fact that’s what he is. From the very first touch he treated me like the cheapest whore, grabbed me hard and nearly split my face in two, his strong cock struggling inside my mouth. There was weak protest rising from the depth of my mind, but very soon it was replaced by immense excitement which made me yearn even for filthier attitude. I serviced him like a real slut

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The Conversion of Jessica

Jessica married her husband of three years, Michael, right out of college.
Their whirlwind courtship was happy and full of joy and togetherness. After
college, Michael got an excellent job with a large corporation which enabled
them to buy a good home in a nice neighborhood near the city. They lived the
life of the perfect couple. Until that fateful day…..

Michael came home with an unusual frown on his face. Jessica greeted him at
the door, as usual, in sweatpants and a loose top. He grimaced a bit upon
seeing her.

“Hon, I’m afraid I have some bad news.” he started the conversation after he
had dropped his attache and they moved to sit in the living room. “The company
needs to send me to Germany for six weeks to help complete a project over
there, and what with the budget cuts and all, I’m afraid you’ll have to stay
here alone. I just can’t take you with me.” He looked sincerely crestfallen.

“Oh, no!” exclaimed Jessica, her heart falling at the news. They had never
been separated through their married life, short though it was to this point.
“Oh, why, honey, why?” she pouted.

“Look, I’m not overjoyed about it either. But I have to do it. If I turn this
posting down, I’ll never get anywhere in the company. It won’t be so bad, I’ll
call you every other day, and you’ll see, the six months will pass very
quickly. The company is advancing me ten thousand dollars to tide you over
until I get back, so you’ll have no money problems.”

He went on soothing Jessica’s doubts through their dinner and quiet evening
afterwards. In bed, they had sex that was quietly satisfying to them both. A
few days later, Michael boarded the airport limo and Jessica waved a tearful
goodbye from their door. She spent the rest of the day almost numb, in front
of an unseen television set.

The next morning, Jessica was tidying up a bit around the house, dressed only
in her long nightshirt, when the doorbell rang quite unexpectedly.

“Who could that be?” she thought, puzzled. “Who is it?” she called out from
the foyer.

“Western Union, ma’am.” came a voice from the outside.  Jessica walked calmly
to the door and opened it. Three burly men forced their way inside before she
could slam the door shut. Jessica gasped in horror. They were dressed
completely in black, black trousers and black turtlenecks. They were each in
their late 30’s or early 40’s, large men over six feet tall and 200 pounds
each. Her arms were grasped tightly and firmly by two of them, while the third
clapped a large palm over her mouth.

“It won’t do you any good to scream. The neighbors on both sides are out.
We’ve cut the phone line. So, if you cooperate, you won’t get hurt. Now, are
you satisfied?” he hissed at her.  Jessica, her eyes wide with terror, nodded
slowly at him. Her heart was pounding.  “Eric, Lars, get the stuff. And be
fast, we have to get out of here quickly.” The other two men surrendered
Jessica’s arms to the leader and quickly ran to her bedroom, stuffing some
clothes and makeup in to a small bag.

“We’re going to make it look like you had to take a quick journey. And you
are, actually. Just not where they might think you’re going.” the leader said
to her as the two other returned. Quickly they pulled a large black cloth bag
from Erik’s back pockets, and pulled it down over the woman, not before Lars
had handcuffed her wrists behind her back and covered her eyes with a blinding
mask. The leader pushed a gag into her mouth. Jessica was completely
disorganized. She had no idea what was going on. The men roughly picked her up
and carried her out the door, one of them shutting and locking it behind them.
She felt them carry her down the short walk and out to the street, and then
she was pushed/pulled in to the back seat of an obviously large automobile or
limousine. None of the men spoke for several minutes as the car pulled away
from her home and headed away at a fairly high rate of speed. At first,
Jessica tried to keep track of where they were turning, but soon found it
impossible to tell, what with the blindfold and bag over her, and the
near-soundless environment inside the limo. Suddenly, an icy chill ran over
her body.

“Ok, Erik, you do her first. Remember the plan.” she heard the still- unnamed
leader speak. Jessica felt the bag being removed from over her body, and she
was pulled around on the car seat until her legs extended far out into the
middle of the car and her back was against the backrest of the huge seat. She
struggled, but could not loosen the handcuffs or move the blindfold. Suddenly
she felt the nightshirt ripped from her body. She screamed through the gag,
but the man only chuckled. He looked down at her nearly prone, naked form.

Long, slender legs led to a pair of wide, but not too wide, hips. Her
femininity was covered by a fine patch of curly brown hair. A trim waist and
tummy led to what was perhaps Jessica’s proudest asset. Her large breasts
seemed almost out of place on her otherwise petite frame. She had been
embarrassed when they first started sprouting while she was just in sixth
grade. Through junior and senior high, they continued to grow, until now she
went through life with a 37D bra size. They were perfectly conical, with large
pronounced areola and thick, prominent nipples. They heaved with fear now, the
nipples erecting in the cool air, not through any sexual excitement that
Jessica felt. Her slim neck and long brown hair framed an attractive, though
not extremely beautiful face. Around the gag her lips compressed.

The man named Erik quickly dropped his slacks. Jessica felt him reach between
her legs and probe her vagina, feeling the dry fingers invade her most private
areas. He wormed two fingers around and around, trying to stir her up. She
squirmed at his touch, trying to move away, but found it impossible as one
other man held her tightly by the shoulders. The next thing she felt was a
large, erect cock poking at the entrance to her vagina. She tried to clamp her
leg together, but could not. She felt a pair of hands grab each ankle and slip
some sort of smooth, cool rope around them and tie them apart to opposite ends
of the car’s interior width. The cock at her slit pushed itself it slowly, and
Jessica was aghast to find herself becoming stimulated at this situation.
Slowly, then faster, the cock began to pick up speed, thrusting in and out,
not roughly , but with greater force than she had ever encouraged with her
husband. HER HUSBAND!! Suddenly Jessica froze. What would Michael be able to
do about this? He was 10,000 miles away. How could he help? She groaned
inwardly. She endured several more minutes of the thick male member invading
her channel. Then, though the haze, she heard the leader speak once again.

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The slave is brought down from hanging upside down to recover, but it only lasts for a second, as her master is on top of her, jamming her pussy hard with the dildo, and putting a ball gag in her mouth. She puts clips on her nipples to punish her even further, and the master wants to see just how wide she can spread her pussy open.

Finally she had it in as far as it would go.  The leash was
pretty tight but she could still breath; her face had been bright
red before the leash began tightening.  Much of her body was
red now, between the exertion and the welts, and all of it was
sweaty despite her being naked in the chill of the desert night.
The firelight flickering on her glistening form was lovely.  The
sweat pouring down her face had forced her to close her eyes but
close examination confirmed that tears were still forcing their
way out from under her eyelashes to mingle with her sweat.  It
was hard to determine how much of the pain twisting her face came
>from the shaft’s penetration of her most private parts, how much
>from her exertions, and how much had come from the whipping; I
doubt she could have separated it.  “You’ve done well, slave, but
this was part one.  Now that you’ve stretched yourself around it
and lubricated it, the fun part starts.  Now you fuck it; c’mon
slave, up and down”, I ordered, and gave her a stroke on the
breasts to emphasize the point.  She groaned but began to raise
herself up, then to lower herself after rising only a few inches.
The whip kissed her belly, and I said “You can do better than
that”, and she pulled herself up about six inches above the
point of her lowest descent and then started lowering herself
again.  She’d done so well that I decided to go easy on her and
accept that.  It was pretty slow going as she slid up and down
the shaft the first few circuits, but as she stretched herself
further, a process accompanied by a lot of screaming, and, at
the end of each lap by her tearful inquiry, “Can I stop now ?”,
it became easier.  Soon, encourage by strokes to her shoulders
or buttocks, depending upon which way she was to go, she was
humping it good, her T&A bouncing nicely.  Her hair was too wet,
and stuck to her head instead of bouncing, but you can’t have
everthing.  After a few more rounds she ceased asking if she
could stop, I thought because she had taken to heart my repeated
answer, “You’ll stop when I tell you to stop”.  She kept going and
I found I’d no need to use the whip to urge her on, which would
not have stopped me from continuing to flog her had not my elbow
become a little sore.  Since she’d been grunting and moaning with
her face and chest flushed and her face contorted for some time,
it was hard to tell if there was anything else effecting her
performance, but it soon became clear that her pent up lust was
going to find release no matter how it had to do so.  Her
widespread legs were going like mad sliding her up and down on
the wood and the tone of her vocalizations changed from pain to
passion and she started jerking her head back and screaming
“YES – YES – YES” but this time neither of us was under any
illusions that it might be a safeword.  Soon a series of
convulsions surged through her, one after another, and when
she was done shaking, her legs collapsed under her and her head
slumped forwards and she hung limp, impaled on the apparatus.

I rushed forwards to check on her.  She was out, but she was
breathing, and once the leash was off her breathing was regular.
Her heart was pounding but it was rapidly coming back to normal.
I considered whether she could be revived – I’d planned to
unchain her feet and make her rotate herself around the shaft
a few times, but I’d so enjoyed the look of her humping that I
deferred the change in direction – but it didn’t appear likely.
“Well, slave,” I told her inert form, “it looks like you managed
to thwart my plans after all.  I hope you’re happy”.  Sure seemed
that way at the end.

I unchained her and took her off the apparatus, and carried her
to the tent.  There wasn’t any way to place her that she wasn’t
laying on her welts, as she was completely covered with
crisscrossing stripes from her knees to her neck, but in her
current state it wouldn’t matter.  I layed her on her back and
cleaned her face and neck and when she cooled a little covered
her with a blanket and spent much of the night dripping water
with a some dissolved sugar and salt into her mouth and stroking
her throat so she’d swallow.  When I thought she’d been
rehydrated sufficiently, I rolled her onto her stomach and made
certain her mouth was clear and in the open, then went back to
the fire to heat my dinner.  It appeared Patricia wouldn’t be
eating again tonight.  I ate my meal and enjoyed the cool desert
night and warm fire while I replayed the whole glorious day in my
mind.  Then I checked on Patricia.  She was still completely out,
but I wasn’t comfortable sleeping next to her without restraints
– it didn’t look like she would be waking up tonight but I
couldn’t chance her waking up before I did – so I selected some
soft padded leather cuffs and locked her wrists behind her.

She was still asleep when I awoke.  It seemed unlikely that she
would be able to walk back to the base camp, even without
carrying the gear, so after breakfast for me and some more
rehydration for her, I assembled a lightweight cage, tied
Patricia up good and tight and put her in the cage, and lashed
the cage up on a platform in the nearest shady spot.  She wouldn’t
be able to get out and no buzzards or coyotes would be able to
get at her; if my information was correct there were no larger
predators in this area. I moved what gear I couldn’t carry out of
sight; when she woke up she’d probably think she’d been left to
die, an idea that I found pretty sexy.  Maybe she’d be
sufficiently grateful when I came back for her to forget how
she’d gotten there.  Not likely, but possible.

I set the fire blazing so I could better watch the show she was
putting on as she writhed and shimmied and gyrated within the
narrow range her bonds allowed. It was quite a show, the
firelight on her hair and gleaming body very lovely, her face
a primeval mixture of lust and rage that looked wonderfully
savage in this light.  This went on for a long time before
most of her energy was spent and she stood there twitching,
eyes downcast.  I’m sure she wanted very badly to cry but refused
to give me the satisfaction.  “What a performance, Patricia !”, I
said, “if I’d realized how incredible you would be I’d have
arranged better lighting so I could tape it.  But I doubt I’ll
ever forget it.  How about you ?”.  She raised her eyes and
glared at me, and growled, “I am going to remember what you’ve
done to me for the rest of my life, and I will NEVER stop hating
you”.  “How wonderful !  I promised you a memorable weekend.
But, slave”, I reminded her, “the night is young, and I’m not
through with you yet”.

I put a bag over her head ( and over her protests, which
continued pouring out from under the hood ) while I made
an addition to the apparatus.  When I was done, I removed
it so she could see the thick wood pole below her. “So what’s
that, some kind of totem that you to pray to for the ability to
satisfy a woman ?”, she spat at me.  “You know what it’s for,
Patricia.  You wanted something in that hot pussy of yours; you
still do, badly.  You’re wet and ready, if you want satisfaction,
go for it”, I told her.  “YOU GO TO HELL”, she said.  “If my
Salesian teachers were correct in theology class, then I most
certainly shall”, I answered her, “but it’s not my going to Hell
that’s at issue here, it’s whether your anger and pride will stop
you from seeking heaven.  It’s right there, just inches away, why
should your anger at me stop you ?  Yes, I’ve used you cruelly
for my own pleasure today – by the way, I’ve enjoyed it immensely –
and I’m going to continue to use you, but why should that stop
you from taking the pleasure that’s available to you ?  Will you
really do that to yourself just to spite me ?  Yes, I see you
would.  I’m so glad, I was counting on this,”, I said as I saw
her start up and glare at me even more fiercely, “so you see even
this display of independence on your part fits perfectly into my
plans.  Everything you do serves my interests, regardless of what
you want.  What perfection to have a slave do everything you want
them to even while they think they are resisting.  I didn’t want you
to willingly impale yourself on that shaft, not when it would be so
much more fun to watch you rape yourself”, I advised, as I
withdrew the whip from it’s hook.  “You know what to do,” I
commanded.  “FUCK YOU!”, she screamed, and I couldn’t help
laughing, “Slave, even your dialogue is perfect !  No, no, my
lady, you’re not going to fuck me, you’re going to fuck YOU !
NOW, DO IT !”.  She didn’t move and I made the whip crack right
in front of her eyes.  She didn’t react; I hadn’t thought a tough
customer like her would, but knew from unpleasant experience how
terrifying that image of a leather tongue coming to rip out one’s
eye is, no matter how well she masked the fear.  Since I didn’t
want her passing out I concentrated on her largely unmarked back
and the soft skin in the back of her thighs and secondarily on
her buttocks, which had been caned but weren’t too badly
inflamed.  As the first strokes cracked across her back, her pride
and anger kept her from reacting, but much of her strength had
been depleted this day and she was soon jerking as the whip
struck, and then jerking in anticipation as she heard it.  The
terrible image of the whip coming towards her face kept her from
looking back and I could play with her anticipation by letting
the whip whiz past her or crack inches away from her, making her
jerk and twist without touching her.  She couldn’t move much, but
she could move her shoulders enough in her futile attempts to
avoid the whip to make her buttocks jiggle nicely and to make
those sore, aching breasts bounce in a way that was wonderful for
me to watch and excruciating for her to feel.  It didn’t take
nearly as much time for her screams to start as it had earlier,
but the uselessness of bargaining was obvious to her and she
included no pleas or offers in her cries, confining herself to
soaring screeches of inarticulate agony punctuated by screeds in
which she detailed my failings as a person and my dubious
prospects for the future.  “Even if that’s so, slave”, I replied
after one of her more dire predictions, “that fact is, today I
wield the whip and enjoy absolute power over you; you will do
everything I want you to and we will both remember it as long as
we live, and nothing that happens in the future will change this
moment”.  I awaited her reply, but as she had returned to screech
mode it wasn’t very elucidating.

At last, as was inevitable, Patricia’s will broke.  “ALL RIGHT,
I’LL DO WHAT YOU WANT, STOP WHIPPING ME”, she cried through her
abundant tears.  “This isn’t about words, slave”, I said,
cracking the tip of the whip against the soft skin of her right
thigh.  She moved her legs a little further apart and began to
bend her knees to meet the shaft.  I redirected the whip away
>from her legs to keep from knocking them out from under her,
which had happened a few times during the unexpectedly prolonged
flogging ( though I wouldn’t admit it to Patricia, I’d never
imagined that she could resist as long as she did, or remain
conscious through such protracted agony ).  She had the shaft’s tip
on her lips and was grinding her hips to work it into her.  While
Patricia was quite moist, the thick wood shaft was unlubricated,
though the smooth finish ( we couldn’t risk any splinters in
her vagina, could we ?  After all, I might want to use it later )
would slide nicely.  Her efforts to get the shaft inside her were
impeded by her reflex to rise up when the whip hit her buttocks,
so I hit her buttocks repeatedly.  Eventually she stopped
screaming her protests and repressed the reflex, and got it
inside her.  She lowered her legs to take in more of the shaft,
but it was too thick for her to slide onto easily and she had to
keep jerking her hips back and forth to, keeping the thrusting
leg higher than the passive leg, in order to force it further
within herself.  When the leash began to tighten about her throat
she stopped lowering herself, but I knew there was a little more
room and slashed at her shoulders, telling her “All the way,
slave, you’re not low enough yet, lower yourself all the way
down”.