Chapter 2
The handsome yet subservient stud felt the pain of the leather and bamboo horse whip striking his ass after a fraction of a second of hesitation.
The pain was so terrible, so severe, that he thought he might pass out from the intensity of the horrible sensations he was being subjected to by the evil woman.
Mistress Marjorie was convinced that she was the Mistress of the devil himself-and there were many of her sex slaves who believed that this had to be true.
She could see that a huge red welt had formed across both of the man's ass cheeks at the same time from the initial blow of the slave's whipping.
"AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH," the man hollered loudly.
His voice echoed off the stone walls of the chamber.
"Hurts, huh?" the woman said with a broad grin.
"It hurts so fucking much," the subservient replied.
The woman wasted no time raised the crop up over her head once again. Again the man heard the whistling sound as the whip moved through the damp air of the makeshift dungeon.
Again the man could hear the gunshot-like sound of the horse whip making direct contact with the naked and vulnerable flesh of his ass cheeks.
Fresh tears rolled down his face. His cheeks were becoming stained by the tracks of those rivulets of saltwater.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch was laughing.
The gorgeous black-haired female was having the time of her life. She rarely had more fun than she did when she had a whip in her hand.
ABOUT the only thing she liked better was raw sexual pleasure, and she knew that it wouldn't be very long at all before she was pondering the handsome man to give her some of that too.
SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK.
The woman was careful not to strike the man twice in the same place. That would have been a bloody waste of time as far as the woman was concerned.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch knew from experience that the man's nerve-endings were numbed and deadened by each blow. She knew that if she struck him twice in the same place she would be hitting him in a spot where he could no longer feel the pain-and she didn't see any point in that whatsoever. She made stripes across his fanny, all up and down the cheeks of his ass.
SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK.
The man could feel the sharpness of the pain begin the fade. He could feel the sharpest of the pain dulling into an ache.
Somehow that ache was blending perfectly with the ache of desire the submissive man had been experienced all along. Just as his fear and arousal had merged inside his mind earlier, now his pain and his pleasure were becoming all but indistinguishable inside his reeling mind.
SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK.
The woman did not limit her savage blows to the cheeks of the man's thoroughly ravaged ass.
The black haired bitch also brought the horse whip down onto the small of the man's back.
She whipped him very close to the y-shaped cleft at the top of the crack of his ass.
She whipped at the backs of his thighs, once frighteningly close to the base of his balls.
She even whipped at the backs of Thomas Froelich's knees, where she knew his nerve-ending were clustered particularly densely. She knew that the pain when he was whipped at the backs of his knees would be extraordinarily sharp for him, and it was.
The woman whipped the center of his back-all the way up and down the entire length of his backbone, concentrating her attention on the hypersensitive area directly between his rather broad shoulder blades.
The woman striped the entire backside of the man's body with angry red welts before she decided the savage whipping was complete.
"How's that?" the woman asked her bound subservient.
"I want more," the man said, pleading with his intonations.
You can't have more, slave-I'm sorry," she said.
"But I need more whipping. I need more pain."
"That's precisely why I won't give it to you."
"You're cruel," the man whimpered.
"You'd better believe it, Jack," the woman said.
"You must be the meanest woman in the whole wide world," the subservient exclaimed.
"I'd like to think that is true, slave. Yes, I'd like to think that is true." The leather-clad dominatrix bitch pondered this silently for a moment with her hand on her chin.
The man had long stopped trying to struggle against his bondage. He had conceded in his brain that he was not going to be able to move a muscle again until the dominatrix bitch determined that this was to be so. He was without power. He was helpless.
Hopeless.
Defenseless.
Filled with despair.
He whined with discomfort, and again she laughed.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel a tingling of desire in his tight little asshole-because he knew that that was the part of him that was going to be abused next.
He could feel the tingling of desire starting at the outermost portion of his asshole-at the mouth of his pink and puckered rectum.
The handsome yet subservient stud soon discovered that the tingling of desire was spreading inward. It spread inward to his tight tubular sphincter muscle-and then into his colon. He could feel it spreading inward deeper still-right into the pit of his bowels, right into the smelliest core of his manhood. He could feel an itch forming deep up inside him.
He could feel the itch growing in intensity with each passing second-and he could tell that it would not be very long before that itch was practically demanding to be scratched.
He hoped that whatever the woman chose to fuck him up the asshole with was long enough to reach the itch up inside him. He wasn't worried.
She said that she was the best in the business at abusing and appeasing submissives, and so far Mistress Marjorie had given the man no reason to suspect her words laden with hyperbole. She was the best in the business, all right.
The submissive hunk of a businessman could just tell.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch whipped her slave until she bored with this form of abuse.
The gorgeous black-haired female whipped the backside of the subservient male until her right arm began to feet fatigued with the exertion of her abusive effort. She tossed the riding crop away carelessly-without even bothering to turn her head to see where the horse whip went.
The man could hear the leather and bamboo riding crop scuttling its away across the uncarpeted floor into the far corner of the torture chamber-the corner that was furthest from the doorway that led to the rest of the leather-clad dominatrix bitch's apartment.
"You know what happens now, slave?" the woman asked.
"I g-g-g-g-g-g-get f-f-f-f-f-fucked?" he asked.
"You got it, mother-fucker. I am going to fuck you right up the asshole, just like MOMMY used to do," the bitch said. The gorgeous black-haired female could feel her clitoris readying to explode at any second from the intense swelling she felt down there. Her clit felt like it would burst from the internal pressure. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch felt as if her little man in the boat were about to come popping right out of the top of her poontang slash at any second.
"You like being called names, don't you?"
"Yes."
"You like it when I call you scumbag, huh?"
"Yes."
"You like it when I tell you your face looks like a pizza with extra cheese, huh?"
"Yes"
"You like it when I tell you that you are a sick and diseased soul, and that there is no hope for you, huh?" the woman said.
"Yes."
"You like it when I tell you that you have breath like a fart, huh?" the dominatrix taunted, shivering with anticipation.
"Yes."
"Yes, you do."
"I need it," the man said in a whispery voice.
"What? Tell me what you need, slave," she said.
"I need to be f-f-f-f-f-fucked," the man replied.
"I ain't gonna use a broomstick on you, slave."
"What are y-y-y-y-y-you gonna use?" he asked.
"I'm gonna use a dildo," the evil woman replied .
"A dildo that vibrates?" the subservient inquired.
"No, a dildo that straps around my hips," she said.
"You mean you are going to wear it like a real cock?"
"That's right."
"And you are going to fuck me with it as if you were-as if you were-as if you were-"
"A man."
"A man."
"Yes, that's precisely how I will fuck you."
"Wow, no one ever did THAT to me before," he said.
"That's because you are an inexperienced wimp and a fool," the black-haired woman retorted.
"Yes, Mistress Marjorie. It is true," he said.
"I LOVE fucking wimps," the dominatrix laughed.
"I came to the right place. I love getting fucked by obviously infinitely superior women," the man said.
"I am going to make you feel as if you have never been fucked before, slave," the woman said.
"How so?"
"You haven't seen the dildo I am going to use yet."
"Is it big?"
"I think big is an understatement, mother-fucker."
"Oh my, I hope you don't hurt me too badly."
"Liar. You want me to hurt you VERY badly."
"It's true," Thomas said with a audible sob.
"You want me to wreck your rectum, don't you, slave?"
"Yes."
"You want me to plow deep into your bowels, right?"
"Yes."
"You want the dildo to come out bloody, right?"
"Yes, bloody and shitty, Mistress Marjorie," he said.
"Well, you came to the right place, cocksucker."
The woman went to the far side of the torture chamber. The handsome man turned his head so he would be able to see what the cruel woman was doing at all times. Thomas Froelich was determined not to miss a trick-so to speak.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch swung her hips passionately from side to side when she walked. This pendulum-like movement was intrinsic to her natural gait-and was not the product of affectation.
Her ass moved like gelatin on springs when she walked.
It would have been an understatement to call the dominatrix bitch shapely. She was broad where a broad was supposed to be broad-there could be no doubt about that. He could see that the woman had a perfect hourglass figure.
The handsome yet subservient stud could see that the woman had hair as black as pitch. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch had ebony tresses that were long-and spilled thickly over her shoulders and down her back.
Her hair spilled most thickly of all down the center of her back in between her rather sharp shoulder blades.
Her hair was very shiny, and reflected even the dim and indirect illumination of the torture chamber.
The dungeon-like portion of Marjorie's apartment was lit with blue bulbs. Everything was affected by the creepy hue of death those bulbs cast.
Her face was extraordinarily gorgeous, he could see. The handsome yet subservient stud could see that she had the face of an angel-to go with the brain of the devil. Looking at her and judging her just from her facial features, one might have thought that Marjorie had never had a naughty thought in her entire life. Of course, nothing could have been further from the truth.
The woman was having evil thoughts all the time. The woman couldn't go more than a minute or so without having an evil thought. She was mean and savage through and thorough.
Perhaps it is important to note here that the woman was not born evil. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch had been made evil. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch had been trained to be evil, by an incestuous parent of her own.
Ah, but more about that subject a little later on.
The woman had smooth skin that was dark in complexion. She had an olive complexion-the sort of skin that tanned into a golden brown after a summertime of exposure to the bright beach sun. The woman was heavily into sunbathing. She liked to lay out in the sun until people began to ask her if she were from Malaysia or something.
Her skin was very smooth-and it was obvious to all who looked at her that she had been one of those lucky teenagers who had never once suffered from a facial blemish.
She looked as if she might have some Latin blood in her.
The shapely woman remembered her teenaged years very well.
After all, Mistress Marjorie was only twenty-two years old. She was already a millionairess, however, because of her extraordinary dominatrix capabilities. She was a "phenom" in the bitch biz.
Her eyebrows and her eyelashes were every bit as black as the hair that grew from her head.
Her eyebrows had been neatly plucked.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch had eyebrows that were slender and femininely angular.
The gorgeous black-haired female had eyelashes that were long and curled upward at their tips.
Her eyelashes were so long that they licked lightly at her high cheekbones each and every time she blinked-or winked for that matter.
The handsome yet subservient stud could tell that he would not have to wait very long now before his asshole was being brutally reamed- reamed inside out perhaps-and he could feel the tingling of desire at the mouth of his rectum her worse as he had this thought.
The woman had large brown eyes. Her eyes were very dark brown-so dark that they appeared as ebony as the hair in the torture chamber's limited light.
Her eyes were almond-shaped. They were very expressive. And they changed color depending on her mood. They darkened when she was angry.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch was angry most of the time-as her sex slaves knew so well.
The woman had a small straight nose. Her nostrils were a little on the pinched side-but they had a tendency to flare wide open whenever she was feeling excited about something.
The woman was very excited at the prospect of fucking the sex slave up the asshole with her favorite ersatz boner.
The woman could feel her clit swelling up to a size a good five times as large as it was normally. Her love button became so large that it looked a hell of a lot more like the head of a baby boy's cock than like the center of a woman's passion.
The woman could feel the insides of her finely tapered thighs getting sticky as the juices continued to dribble from her aromatic twat. The woman could smell the scent of her own cunt juices wafting up from between her legs toward her anxiously flaring nostrils.
The woman sucked the smell of her cunt deep into her sinuses and then exhaled with a sigh.
She loved it.
The smell.
The smell of cunt.
She felt dizzy.
She felt as if she were becoming intoxicated.
She was drunk with the smell of her own juicy swampland poontang at that delicious moment.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch could feel her horniness enhanced by that fishy aroma.
The beautiful woman could feel her face getting hot-and she could tell she was red as a beet.
The gorgeous black-haired female could tell she was severely flushed with her passion.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel his cock being numbed as it was crushed against the hard wooden torture table.
The handsome man could not tell what kind of wood it was. The table was oaken perhaps.
The gorgeous ebony-tressed bombshell did have a large mouth. But her lips were full and sensuous.
Her lips were plump. They looked juicy. They were very red-asked as cherries, in spite of the fact that the woman did not use lipsticks. She had a tendency to nibble on her nipples however-and perhaps that was what made them so red.
She had a pouting mouth, and it had been said that Mistress Marjorie was walking through life looking like she needed to be kissed very badly.
There was a lot of truth in this, to be sure.
But the black haired woman did not get kissed as often as one might think. Kissing is a little affectionate for most sadomasochistic sex sessions. Marjorie liked to kiss mostly during her spare time, when she was getting it on with one of her lesbian friends.
Oh yes, the woman was bisexual. Completely. She was equally turned on by cocks and cunts-and that had been the case for as long as the bitch could remember.
She tended to save her affectionate love-making for her lesbian affairs, but she had sexually abused both genders in her day. She would whip anyone- whether they wanted to be whipped or not. This was just one of the many ways the evil woman got her kicks.
She grabbed the dildo.
She put it on.
It was black.
Rubber. Hard rubber.
Ten inches long.
Very thick.
Thomas shivered.
He felt fear.
He felt lust.
"Fuck me," he said.