Diana's Dark Desires Ch. 04

I plunged my tongue deep inside her, and she again came in seconds, writhing and bucking her slim hips, and screaming loudly, as if I had hurt her.

Then, just as suddenly, she pushed me roughly away across the bed, 'Now go to your room. I'll see you in the morning.'

I got out of her bed, and, picking up my gown, made for the door. As I emerged into the corridor, Gala was there, silently hovering. I shuddered as I saw her. Her eyes were almost as black as her raven hair, and her skin was alabaster-white. She was thin and sinewy, with muscular limbs. She led me to my room, without a word, opening the door for me to enter, and closing it quietly behind me.

I went to bed naked, revelling in the soft feel of thee silk sheets in the warm room, and slept well, but was rudely awakened when my door opened suddenly. It was still dark.

'What - what's going on?' I spluttered, 'what time is it?'

'It's six-thirty,' said a harsh voice I recognised as that of Gala, 'and time for your punishment.'

She flicked on the light, temporarily dazzling me, strode up to my bed, and seized my wrists in a bony hand, reaching up and pulling down the overhead chain with the other.

In a trice, she had clipped my wrists by the rings in my cuffs to the snap-link at the end of the chain, and had pressed a button whose existence I hadn't known of, by the side of the bed. A low whirring noise ensued, and my arms were drawn upwards, until I was forced to follow them, and ended up in an extended kneeling position on the bed, my arms high above my head. It was acutely uncomfortable.

I heard, rather than saw, the sultry maid open a cupboard, and take something out, then she was close behind me, running an exploratory hand down between the cheeks of my arse.

'Nice,' she said, then without warning, there was a harsh swishing noise, and I felt a terrible sharp sting as she struck my lower back. I shouted out, and she responded by roughly stuffing a thick wad of damp material into my mouth. Then she lashed me again, lower down, and I didn't think I could bear it. I writhed and threw myself around under her awful lashes. She gave me only five of the terrible strokes, but the pain was so fierce, I doubted I could have taken more without fainting.

'Now you know what a real whip feels like,' she said when she let me down, and took out my gag, 'and next time we may well rub salt into your wounds, instead of this!' She was anointing me with soothing oil as she said this, and I twisted around, to see that I had gained a few bright red stripes where she had struck.

Within a few minutes, she pronounced herself satisfied, and said, 'Right, I'll send Astrid up with your breakfast - she can dress you too, then Donald will take you to the office.'

I put on a robe, and Astrid appeared with a tray of fresh rolls, orange juice and coffee, telling me to ring for her when I had finished. I hadn't noticed the bell-push by the headboard.

As soon as I summoned her, she came, and laid out the clothes she thought I should want for the day in the office - they coincided nicely with my taste; a pleated skirt, silk blouse and stockings, with patent heels.

Soon after Donald had delivered me to the office, my buzzer sounded, and Helen's voice summoned me to her office. Once there, she had me stand in front of her desk and lift my skirt, to show her the new stripes Gala had given me.

'Very pretty!' was her verdict, 'we must make sure you are whipped regularly, Diana.'

I must have looked unhappy at the prospect, because she said then, 'Is there a problem with that?'

'No Mistress,' I said, 'it's just that I don't like Gala doing it - she's so.....I don't know........so sullen. I wished it were you whipping me.'

'Come here,' she said, and rose from her seat, walked around the massive desk, and took me in her arms. She kissed me tenderly, then held me at arm's length, and said, 'Look, I shall not be home tonight, I have to go to Stockholm for a meeting, but I'll be home tomorrow afternoon early, and we are having guests for dinner. I have told Gala to leave you alone tonight, but I want you to do something for me.'

She walked back around and sat down at her desk, opened a drawer and took out a box, handing it over to me. When I opened it, I gasped. It contained a huge butt-plug, complete with a leather harness.

'But it's too big,' I protested.

'Nonsense,' she said, ' bend over the desk!'

'What, now?'

'What, now, what?'

'Oh sorry, Mistress,' I said, 'I had forgotten.'

She was already behind me with a tube of lubricant, had my skirt up around my waist, and was smearing the gel around my arsehole in liberal dollops, talking as she worked it into my anus.

'Tomorrow night we have a special guest who will want to use you there, you may be sure. If you are very good, I may well let you whip Gala as a treat, something I know she craves more than anything. Would you like that?'

Her words, and the thought of the evening's entertainment in prospect, was taking my mind off the pain Helen was about to inflict upon me. It wasn't that my arsehole was virgin territory, but the sheer size of the plug was terrifying, and I felt I should never be able to accept it inside me when she started to introduce it into my reluctant portals. But Helen wasn't without experience in these matters, and, with the help of the gel, the mighty plug wormed its way up, up, past my guardian sphincter, until I thought it would split me in two, and my legs wriggled and squirmed against one another as the fierce pain was joined by a thrilling new sensation which started deep within me, and gave rise to a shortness of breath, a speeding-up of my pulse so dramatic I felt I would surely pass out. I came, and screamed, only then realising that my Mistress had all four fingers of the hand that wasn't pushing hard on the plug deeply embedded in my sopping wet cunt.

'Oh, Mistress,' was all I could say, as she fitted the leather harness about me.

'Keep this in place until tomorrow evening,' she said, 'I'll come to the office from the airport, and you can go home with me. Have a nice evening tonight, dear.'

I had difficulty in walking around with the butt-plug in place, and it was even worse sitting down, but I gradually got used to it, and the day passed without further incident.

Next day, still wearing the fiendish plug, Astrid dressed me, and I was driven to the office again by the silent Donald. Soon after lunch, Helen arrived, and rang for me. She looked as fresh as if she had just been on holiday, instead of at a hectic business meeting, dressed formally in a business suit, and silk blouse.

'Help me file a few papers, Diana, then we can go home,' she said. I was surprised, as it was so early.

In the car, on the way home, she was unusually talkative, and asked me if I was happy being with her. I said I was, and she said, 'If you are still with me at the end of your week's trial, I think I shall have you branded. Would you like that?'

'But wouldn't that hurt terribly, Mistress?'

'Yes, for a time, but it would pass. Cattle are branded all the time.'

I didn't know if I should protest at being compared to livestock, but decided to let it pass - I found the idea somehow horribly fascinating, anyway.

When we got home, Helen told me to go and take out the butt-plug and undress. She said Astrid would be sent to bathe and dress me.

I wandered about my heated room naked for a while, revelling in the freedom of being without the huge plug in my arse after so many hours of being effectively fucked by it.

Astrid came in her maid's uniform and ran my bath, turning on the Jacuzzi jets for my added pleasure. I spent a long time soaking in it, and when I invited Astrid to join me, she slipped out of her little black maid's dress, and stepped daintily into the big triangular tub beside me. Her lithe body, devoid of any hair, and with almost no breasts, was like a child's, but for quite prominent nipples, which were hard under my fingers. Her mouth yielded softly when I kissed her, and she moaned quietly when I felt between her slim legs under the warm water, and she opened herself to me with complete abandon. She came convulsively, in mere seconds, and said, 'Oh, Miss Diana, thank you, thank you!'

Unsure of the house rules, I asked her if she would be allowed to sleep with me, and she said that she thought it would be alright, looking really pleased at the prospect.

When she had helped me dry myself, she brushed my hair, and did my make-up, then told me it was time for me to dress. I asked her what Mistress Helen wanted me to wear, and she looked surprised.

'Why, your evening gown, of course,' she said, 'you must always wear one of them, even when there are guests.'

I was surprised by this, expecting to be allowed to wear something special, but let Astrid put out for me a long translucent pale green gown, which hid no detail of my body. I let her shackle my ankles, stepped into a pair of stiletto-heeled mules, and clipped a silver chain around my waist.

'You look wonderful, Miss Diana,' said Astrid, and helped me down to the dining room, where Mistress Helen and her seven or eight guests were waiting.

Helen looked completely transformed from the business-woman I knew, and was dazzling in a long white silk dress, backless, so that just the hint of the start of the cleft of her buttocks was visible. And I was astonished to note the fading but unmistakeable marks of a whipping on her elegant back. I thought she had worn the dress deliberately to draw attention to them.

All eyes turned to me as I joined the people stood around. All the rest were dressed in more-or-less formal evening attire, so that I felt very vulnerable, and when we sat down to eat, myself at my Mistress's side, she took my leash from her reticule and attached it to my collar, as if to reinforce her ownership of me. The conversation was, however, like that at any dinner table, until we relaxed over coffee. Then Helen clapped her hands and Astrid appeared, in her maid's uniform, leading in the shackled and handcuffed naked figure of Gala, slim and arrogant-looking, despite her chains.

'My maid Gala has displeased me in several ways recently, and must be punished,' she announced somewhat theatrically, 'please chain her to the wall.'

At this, Astrid led Gala to one wall, where two ringbolts were placed above head-height, and attached her to them by her cuffs, facing the wall, leaving legs shackled.

Now Helen stood, pulling me gently up by my leash, and led me over to just behind Gala.

'Fetch the tray, Astrid,' she said, and the blonde responded by producing a large tray with an assortment of whips and paddles.

'Choose!' said my Mistress, and I picked up the riding crop - a whip I knew well enough.

'A good choice,' she approved, and to Gala: 'Are you ready?'

'Yes Mistress Helen,' she said in a clear voice.

I stood away, and lashed her across the shoulder blades. She scarcely flinched, even though I thought it had been a sharp stroke.

'What's this, a kindergarten?' one of the female guests, a woman in her forties dressed in black velvet, demanded.

'Much harder,' responded Helen, 'you must hurt her, Diana, or it will not have any effect. What's more, you will be next!'

Summoning up more strength, I drew back my arm, and thrashed her middle back, bringing up an angry red welt. But there was still no response from the stoic Gala.

'Here, let me show you,' said Helen, and taking the crop from me, gave it a quick twirl in the air, then brought it swishing down between the two marks I had made, with vicious force. Gala cried out, a sharp, 'Oh,' as the crop fell and her body writhed in her bonds. Helen handed me back the crop without a word, and I copied her action as best I could, picking up her technique. When I had administered ten strokes, I felt I was meting out real punishment, and had Gala bucking and dragging at her chains, and even crying real tears.

'Stop for a moment,' ordered Helen, and pulled forward a man she had introduced as David.

'You can see if she is enjoying it, if you like,' she smiled.

With some alacrity, he stepped up and thrust his hand between Gala's legs.

'A bit damp,' he reported, 'but I think she needs a bit more!'

I took up the challenge and lashed her again, across the fleshier meat of her buttocks, and the red wheals that resulted even showed tiny pin-pricks of blood coming to the surface. She was now moaning in agony by the time I had whipped her three times in quick succession, each time a little lower down, and, unbidden, I thrust my own free hand between her legs, to find her crack now oozing with her abundant juices.

'Give her two more on the insides of her thighs,' ordered Helen, 'and that will do.'

I complied, and knew that these last strokes hurt her more than any others. She was sobbing when Astrid unclipped her chains, and I was almost too fascinated watching her being carried to a couch by David, to be aware that Helen was pulling me away by my leash. But she led me off to another couch, and forced me to my knees on the floor, then unclipped the shackles from my ankles, and kicked my legs apart, roughly yanking my gown up to my waist. She dropped to her knees behind me, and put the flats of her hands on my arse-cheeks, pulling them wide apart.

'What do you think, then, Kurt?' she said, to a tall figure whose shadow was now looming over me.

'I like,' said a deep, heavily-accented voice, 'she has been well-prepared, I think.'

He took Helen's place, and I felt an exploratory hand trace my crack from the ring in my clitoris-hood, where it paused and gave a little tug, as if amused, then through the dampness of my slit, up to my waiting, expectant arsehole, where he immediately plunged in two fingers, right to their very limit.

'Yes,' he breathed, 'I shall enjoy your arsehole. But first you should see what you are going to get.'

He stood up, and walked around, unzipping his trousers as he did so, and pulling out the most massive cock I had ever seen. I had scarcely taken in the fact that he was dark-skinned, by no means negro, but probably with some African blood - I was quite terrified by the sheer dimensions of his mighty weapon, which I felt sure would tear me terribly. He played with it in front of my face for a few seconds before resuming his position behind me, whereupon, Helen came back and sat on the sofa by my head.

'Now perhaps you see why I had you wear the plug?' she said.

'Yes mistress,' I replied, as Kurt spat on my arse, then started to push at my delicate anus with his great thick shaft. I wriggled and twisted around to try and help him as he thrust at the entrance with the doubtless tender crown of his cock, then he was past the first agonising penetration. I saw the wisdom of what my Mistress had said, and found that she was stroking my hair, enjoying the sight of my arsehole being violated by this tremendous organ. Now she kissed me, and I returned her kiss with great joy, letting my tongue stud play over her own snaking tongue as I felt the awful pain in my arse worsen, and turn to near-unbearable agony as he took my anal sphincter by storm. Then he was right inside me, and Helen said, 'Control him! Hold him!'

She knew how to give true pleasure, and conveyed it to me, as I now cupped her breasts with my hands, through the thin silk of her dress, feeling the taut, erect nipples that watching me being taken had brought about. My pain was still acute, as his enormous length and width filled me totally, but I was on the verge of a mighty orgasm too, and knew that it couldn't be controlled long.

I yelled, 'Kurt, give it to me, NOW, you bastard!'

To order, he stiffened, and I felt his huge wad of hot spunk shoot right into my bowels, as my own orgasm overtook me in a great scarlet storm.

When he had pulled out, my arsehole was on fire, and Helen cradled me on the sofa, where I was only dimly aware of Gala being vigorously fucked by David beside us.

After a time, my Mistress said quietly to me, 'Go now, Diana, and take Astrid to bed with you. Sleep well!'

I could hardly believe that she was giving me permission to do what I really wanted, and, letting her fasten my shackles again, I shuffled meekly from the room, extending a hand to my maid as I reached the door, so that the young blonde came with me.

Once in my room we both slipped into short silk nightdresses, and I took her in my arms.

When I awoke, sunlight was streaming through the shutters, and our limbs were still entwined. As it was Saturday, we lay together for a long time, enjoying each others' bodies to the full, and I brought her to climax two or three times, just with my fingers.

'Oh, Miss Diana, I so want to become a slave like you,' she said, 'I long for the day when the Mistress will allow me to be punished.'

'You are still very young,' I replied, 'just enjoy learning for now.'

She went to fetch me breakfast, and I slumbered a while longer. When the door opened, I was in for a surprise. It was not Astrid, but my Mistress, wearing a black corset, elbow-length lace gloves, high black stockings, and stilettos. Her breasts were perched atop the corset, which was no more than a platform. She carried in her hand a bull-whip.

'You wanted me to whip you, instead of Gala, didn't you?' she said, 'get up, and strip!'

I did as she told me.

'I'm not going to tie you up, or chain you - you should have learned to be still for ten strokes. Kneel!'

I knelt.

'Hands behind your head, and hold your hair up!'

When I had complied, she stood back and I heard a fearsome howl as the whip's long lash flew through the air, then felt the terrible pain of its kiss on my upper back. I bit my lip, and tasted blood in the effort to stem my cry. Again there was the awful swish and crack as the fiendish weapon struck me, and my torture started to grow into that dimension beyond pain, where agony becomes ecstasy, where reality stops and fantasy takes over. A monstrous orgasm blotted out the pain of the next three terrible violations of my flesh, and I heard myself pleading with my Mistress not to stop punishing me, but she threw down the whip and took me in her arms, and pulled me on top the bed, where I grabbed her beautiful platinum hair and forced her mouth into my cunt, so that she lapped my juices, then I eased her into a '69' position so that I could do the same to her, finding my Mistress's pussy the sweetest I had ever tasted. We both came more than once.

The rest of the weekend passed without incident, and Helen had to go off to one of her meetings on the Monday.

When I got to the office on the next morning, my buzzer went, and Helen's voice asked me to come to her office. When I got there, and knocked, her voice bade me enter.

I did so, and the room was in total darkness.

'Close and lock the door, then put on the light,' said her voice.

I did as she told me.

Blinking I looked across to her desk, and there was Helen, silk dress around her waist, bent over her desk, showing the lovely globes of her bare arse to me, wearing nothing below the waist but her heels. She looked back at me without changing her position, and lifting a slim cane from the desk beside her, waved it in my direction.

'You can give me ten strokes, Diana,' she said.

I was more than a little surprised, but she said, 'Come on, girl, don't you think I want to be hurt sometimes, too?'

Shrugging, I took the cane from her. It was a wicked instrument, which I knew would hurt a lot, so I went easy on her, but she protested immediately; 'Do it properly - or don't you think I can take it?'

I lashed her with a vengeance, and wrung an 'Oh' from her elegant lips. When I had got halfway, I felt her lovely pussy, as was normal, and she was certainly wet, so I carried on, counting to ten, whipping her arse and inner thighs ferociously, and raising pretty red welts on her soft flesh.