The Long Weekend

The weekend was intended as a surprise with a difference! He drove them down to Devon early one Saturday morning. The autumn colours were magnificent en route, as he deliberately skirted the main motorway. She was gagged, and sat respectfully alongside him as he drove slowly along the Exmoor road, through timeless villages with their charming pubs. She had dressed as instructed. Simple white blouse, dark skirt, stockings and black patent boots, with modest heels. He had kissed her as she joined him in the car, an intake of breath revealing her delicate perfume, so fitting for her. She was naked beneath these outer garments, and she blushed with shame, as he reached around her to lift up her skirt to reveal her nakedness, and left it so for the journey. She had several hours to endure, the wondering if lorry drivers or bus drivers would glance down and see her in the passenger seat, helplessly exposed.

At last they seemed to have reached their destination, a castellated manor house, with a long gravel drive approach. He stopped, and sense returning, bade her rearrange herself to make herself presentable at the manor. He opened the door for her and offered his hand, slightly caressing a breast as he helped her out of the car.

The entrance hall was grand and impressive all wood panelling and oil portraits. They were greeted somewhat formally by a stern looking receptionist, and she accompanied them to their room on the first floor. He bade her sit down on the bed whilst he unpacked. His opened suitcase revealed a startling (to her eyes) collection of paddles, switches, rope, lengths of chain, and various butt plugs of extraordinary sizes and dildos equally endowed, in addition to what seemed to be medical implements and tubing, that must certainly have been for administering an enema. There were also garments in a range of materials, from latex to leather, for him and for her. He made sure she saw everything as he unpacked, and lay items alongside her on the bed. She experienced a panoply of emotions: excitement, anxiety, and the anticipation of humiliation and shame. Next, he opened the champagne from the ice bucket, and offered her a glass, toasting them both and their lust for life.

The phone rang. There was a brief conversation, during which he simply accepted what was said with a yes, and mmm, OK, and then he asked her to disrobe. She did so slowly, knowing this was expected. And as her body was revealed, he asked her to masturbate in front of him. He then bade her dress in a special set of garments, her slave costume for the weekend. These were of leather, body hugging, but with holes cut in places leaving her exposed where she least wanted to be. He put on a black boiler suit and then to her shame, led her out of the privacy of their room, down the corridor, down the main elaborate staircase, and down, down into the basement. They were greeted at the foot of the stairs by the same receptionist, who looked at her with approval, and a hint of lust. He saw this, and frowned in possessiveness: it was clear what this signal meant.

They entered a dimly lit room, where she was vaguely aware of other figures. There were benches upholstered in a sort of doctor's surgery style, and on these sat a collection of other slaves, some male, some female. They were dressed in similar style to her, and she puzzled at this, immediately unsettled. She was excited now, at this intensity, this focus. She knew he had promised a surprise, but this quite took her breath away as she realised his intent. She would be punished in front of others like her, and they would also be punished in front of their masters and mistresses in turn.

He led her to a bench, where a strange machine was positioned at one end. It was all metal wheels, and cogs, and drive belts. He instructed her not to let him down, and to obey him in all that followed. She had the safe word, but he knew she would not need it. He strapped her on the bench, with her legs wide apart and fixed into strirrups. She was gaping wide, and totally exposed now, her puffed lips red and glistening wet in the half light. He moved over to the control console and made some adjustments, then positioned the machine close to her. He attached a large dildo to the rod at the end of the machine, and with some levers arranged it at the tips of her pussy. Then he waited. Others were doing likewise, and on a signal, the machines were switched on simultaneously. The male slaves were on their knees, and they were entered from behind in a first slow thrust. The female slaves were in her position, but arranged so they could all see each other. They all received the first thrust together. The dominant figures in their amorphous black uniforms raised the tempo, and soon there was a mixture of sobbing and groaning. One poor boyish young slave was pitiful in his pleading, and was later to be beaten soundly for the feebleness he displayed.

She took the pummelling with the black monster phallus with a resigned contentment. She had overcome the shock of her position, and now she lay there, a showcase of submissiveness, her soul bared and raw. She knew not how long this lasted, but she came and came, as the machine tempo waxed and waned, and his probing fingers added torments and teasing to the menu of this sexual feast. She loved this, the forbidden nature of it all, the outrageousness of the organisation involved, and the long build up including the journey. It all came to pass, and when she felt a second phallus enter her other hole she sighed and greeted it with inner delight. He stroked his slave, he was proud. She was taken from this room of mechanical torment, to their room, and she was feasted with his tongue and cock, until exhaustion overcame them both. Sweat smooth bodies lay side by side....a truce until the morning would once again lead to fresh assaults on her aching body, and no doubt she would feel the taste of the paddle or cane until she cried in his arms to stop.

The following day began conventionally enough, with a delicious breakfast in bed, followed by a lengthy session of oral delights. He used his tongue to cover her all over, and then made a special feast of her upper thighs, backs of knees, and behind the ears, before dwelling with intent on her clit. He took her to the edge of orgasm several times, and she thrashed about on the bed, before he denied her thrice.

They bathed, in fine smelling waters, and emerged refreshed. The phone rang, and he answered it, listened intently for an age and then simply replied saying we will be ready in 15 minutes. He used this time to stroke her and hug her, and to make her feel secure. After a while, he gagged her, then blindfolded her by placing her in a mask. She was now naked and vulnerable. Like this he led her down the hall, and once again to the basement. Here she was covered in massage oils by what seemed like many hands. She was then attached to a maltese cross, her hands and feet bound tight by what seemed to her like rough hemp. The shock came as the whip landed right on her cleft. She was not anticipating the whip, yes, the crop perhaps, but after so much tenderness from him, the whip, no! And then he was with her, stretching her pussy with his fingers, reassuring her that this would be over soon, and she realised he was not the one beating her. She cried, but could not give in and request that it be over. The pain turned to warmth, the flood of preorgasmic waves washed her, and took her through this ordeal. But it was not over.

She was led into another room, and hands were all over her. Many hands, and cocks too, and also hard phalluses, probing, glancing across her tits and arse. She was penetrated by a hot throbbing cock in the mouth, and one in her anus, and there was another thing entering her pussy, huge and inanimate. All the time he whispered in her ear, that it was his turn next, and they were under stronger powers. Then something was strapped on her and it hung between her legs, weighing downwards. She was led to a body, a slim boyish form. The mask was removed, and another slave, a male, was strapped and bent over a bench, with his legs apart. Somehow, she knew what she must do, and she entered him in one thrust, and all around there as a murmur of approval from the assembled Masters and Mistresses. As she entered the young lad, a Mistress took her from behind with a huge dildo and they moved in unison, and she could not stop herself from coming, a car crash of an orgasm that held all the frustration of the morning. She looked across, and could see her Master being beaten by another man, and her Master had his mouth filled with a large black phallus strapped on a Mistress.

They were taken away afterwards, and returned to their room. Was it real? Was it true, She could feel the afterglow of all the penetration and the beating, and he held her, and it was good. Could they both have grown from this, to both feel the pain and the humiliation together, under forces beyond their control, with her Master as vulnerable as she. He told her that it was a test for them both, and they had passed. Now they would be allowed into the Castle, but that part of their journey lay ahead, and she must wait and pass more of his tests before then.