Boudica Pt. 10

Louetta here. This is Boudica Part 10. Everybody mentioned in this story is at least eighteen.

At this point, I'm working in Amsterdam at a BDSM club with my Dutch female cousins. My long-term goal is to get into video and film work and I needed to get experience performing in the nude, to do the kind of roles I wanted. While here I met members of the German BDSM organization Das Erwachen, and wanted to do scenes with them, but first I had to be admitted into their organization. My new-found friend Tilly, an experienced Erwachen girl, put me up for membership and the top two local Erwachen officials, both men, agreed to let me undergo a trial to evaluate my potential. Privately, Tilly informed me that, although I would be soundly whipped as part of my trial, to the men, my "potential" was largely my willingness to engage in sex acts, rather than my skill at handling BDSM challenges. To me, this was not a problem, as I was willing to do just about anything to join up, including opening my bunny hole as many times as was required.

In the last chapter, I completed the first part of my trial which involved giving some blowjobs and undergoing some mild BDSM. Next, I was supposed to prove my willingness to have real sex by having a train run on me, which I was happy to do if it meant getting into Erwachen. By now it was about 2AM, and I was in the dungeon at the top of the BDSM club building. Three of the bouncers, Aart, Gerrit, and Kees, showed up to prepare me for what was to come. I knew them and liked them and had no particular problem if they were going to fuck me, given the circumstances. They liked me, and we all knew this was business, not personal. I wanted to get into Erwachen and the price for me was letting them do me. Then we'd go on working side by side as if nothing had happened, except we would all know they had all of me. In a big city like Amsterdam, where jobs were at a premium and girls were plentiful, it was common for girls to put out and to continue to work next to, and maybe for, guys who had fucked them.

So they retrieved me, bareass naked, from the dungeon and gave me back the black shift and red panties I had worn when I came in two hours before. My red bra was missing, later to be displayed on the wall in the BDSM club security room, a trophy for the guys who had fucked me. Though I was going to spend the rest of the night bound naked they let me put on my panties and my dress. I stayed barefoot. I was going to get it on the four-poster one floor upstairs in the penthouse that belonged to the manager of the BDSM club, the bed in which many of the girls who worked there had. We went out to the elevator and the guys produced a special key required to get the elevator to go up there. Upstairs another key was required to enter the penthouse itself. There was a large living room, several bedrooms, and a kitchen and dining area. Across the living room were glass doors that led out onto a porch, partly covered and partly open to the night sky.

To one side of the porch was a metal fire escape-type staircase which had to be unlocked and pulled down to get upstairs to the roof. Once up there the staircase was pulled back up so no one could interfere with what went on unless they had the staircase key. Up there were the Folterkammers, the torture chambers, the perfect place to do whatever the men wanted to do to girls, especially if they were reluctant, for however long they wanted to do it. And with me they had plenty of time. I heard the clock on the church below strike half two AM. They had all night before I would be missed. I had heard about the Folterkammers. If necessary girls could be held there for days, without food, water or sleep, if no one who cared enough to look for them. My cousins Eefje and Juliette had been there before me and I knew what went on.

The Folterkammers were basically bedrooms with additional equipment for facilitating BDSM activities, and it was there that anything a girl might be reluctant to do took place. Which included getting a train run on her, which was to be my fate. I was willing enough, as I have mentioned, but what I had in mind was me getting tied to a bed on my back and getting serially fucked in the manner God intended. I soon came to find out that that was not what was planned for me. I was an anal virgin and I had been told that this would be held against me in my efforts to gain entrance to Erwachen. In addition to the main activity of doing BDSM, I was going to have to make myself available for all sorts of sexual acts. I had already shown my willingness to blow guys and figured I was about to show my willingness to let them fuck me in my vagina, all the while while securely bound, but the manager it turns out expected to give it to me in the bum. And so did the bouncers.

Anyway, in my innocence, I entered the Folterkammer area. It was Kafkaesque. A corridor off which there were four beautiful apartments, each with a large bed, a small bathroom, and a porch that provided a beautiful view of Amsterdam from fourteen stories up. We started down the corridor past the first apartment, and I was able to see into the first one, and what I saw both fascinated and frightened me. There in the middle of the room was a woman in chains, hung bent over from her middle, padlocked in a kind of strappado style. She was completely naked. She was about forty years of age, had a bountiful middle-aged woman's body, ample bosom, soft, slightly large bottom, shapely legs, a slightly chubby midsection, some stretch marks, a very pretty face.

I gazed at her in awe. I had seen her before, one of the waitresses in the BDSM club. She was about forty years of age and had been working there for several years, participating in various sexual activities to help keep her job and earn extra money. She had medium length black hair which was disheveled and soaking wet, in fact her whole body was wet as she had been asked to take a shower before she was chained. She had a black metal collar around her neck, locked on with a gold padlock. The collar was attached in front of and behind her neck to two shiny silver chains, one of which ran up to the ceiling and the other to the floor, where they were securely fastened. It was the collar and the length of the chains which forced her upper body to be bent over at a ninety-degree angle.

She was in great discomfort. It appeared she had been imprisoned that way for quite some time. To increase her discomfort, her wrists were handcuffed together behind her back, and her arms had been pulled up strappado style and padlocked as high as they would go, to the chain that ran to the ceiling, to guarantee she remained bent halfway over. Her ankles were cuffed together. Her ample breasts hung temptingly beneath her chest. And, possibly most painful of all, something I had never seen before, each of her large breasts had a shiny metal cuff affixed around it, close up against her body, squeezing each breast tightly so that most of each spilled out beneath her. She was moaning audibly, and in obvious pain. Kees saw me staring at her helpless figure.

"Don't be alarmed, she's getting paid well. She's trying to put her kids through college and is the boss's favorite partner. I'll give her some water," he said and walked into the room. There was a bottle of water on the nearby chest of drawers. Her clothes were nowhere in evidence. A set of keys hung from a peg in the doorframe of the bathroom. Kees picked up the water bottle, went to her, pulled her head up by the hair, and helped her take a drink. She wanted more than he allowed her.

"More, Kees!" she begged, but it did no good.

"I'll do this for you!" he said, and ran his hand over her bare ass and down in between her legs, fingering the wetness of her pussy, giving her a nice tickle. Then he slapped her on each butt cheek and left the room, taking the water.

"I'll need this for you and Erika." Erika was one of the boss's personal assistants, someone he had recently hired. At this point, I didn't know why he mentioned her.

"What is being done to her and what did she do?"

"She's done nothing, it's just a game she plays with the boss."

"Why is she bent over like that?"

"He wants to do her in her bum and it's a good position and she enjoys the pain. He'll be up at four." The club closed at four. That meant she would be imprisoned like that for more than another hour. I hoped he was right and that she enjoyed the pain.

"Would you like to have him do you that way? In your ass?"

"No!" Next day I realized I had just been given all the clues I needed to know what was intended for me. He wanted to bum fuck me too. I didn't get the idea then, but at least I later was glad I had seen the keys and knew when the boss was coming up.

Kees took me down the hall to the second room where Aart and Gerrit were waiting. Then I saw there was another person waiting with them. The aforementioned Erika. She was lying on the couch inside the room, bound and gagged, naked except for a pair of blue jeans. She was squirming as hard as she could and trying desperately to talk through her gag.

"The boss wants her too," Kees said. "But she's always uncooperative." Like every other girl here, Erika was very attractive: nineteen, German, pretty face, pale skin, a young and very good body. She had been bound with white cotton rope. Her wrists were tied behind her back and her ankles were tied together. Her feet were bare. She had also been tied in a chest harness, with rope running double thickness above and below her ample boobs, around her arms and secured under each arm by loops that held the ropes over and under her tits in place. To try to keep her silent they had shoved a cloth into her mouth and tied another through her mouth and around the back of her head to keep the first cloth securely in there. She was obviously angry and kept staring at me and trying to cry out as if trying to talk to me, which she was. All the time she kept struggling to get free. Aart sat down on the couch and leaned over her upper body with his and began taunting her and feeling her bosom. She was furious.

"You mustn't worry about her. She's always like this, but she never wants to leave us. Now, you must take off your dress, because we have to tie you up for the boss to have his way with you," intoned Kees, with some seeming reluctance. Of course the guys knew I did not know that I was going to get it in my bum. Erika became even more aggressive when Kees mentioned the boss doing me, but I was willing to be here, I just didn't know what I was there for, exactly. Gerrit got some duct tapeand placed three eight-inch pieces across her mouth in various places, and she was almost totally quiet.

Anyway, I started to strip. I stood next to the bed, knowing I was going to end up tied to it, and many guys would then fuck me, just not in the hole I expected. There was just a mattress on the bed, no bedclothes. There were a few cabinets in the room, but they only contained implements, nothing made of cloth. There were no towels in the bathroom. Nothing anywhere a girl could cover herself with. Once they took my dress and my panties I would be completely naked and stuck with it. Of course, all the bouncers had seen me bare to the waist and bare-legged when I was working the front desk greeting customers, and they were working as bouncers. And they had seen me entirely naked when I did my strip tease act. But this was different. Getting naked in the BDSM club was part of the job. This was for their private entertainment, seeing my body and, eventually, using it to provide them with great pleasure. For as long as they wanted, how they wanted, and I had nothing to say about it.

Since it was inevitable, I crossed my arms in front of me, reached down to the hem of my shift, pulled it up over my agile rump, up my back, over my head, and down in front of me, my titties bared, and pretty much everything else that wasn't covered by my panties. I stepped out of my dress and handed it to Kees. I could feel the ache inside me that only a dick could cure. One in my vagina, that is. The guys stared at my compact, neat, curiously immature body, every inch of me desirable from head to foot. Gerrit produced the rope that would be used to bind me and handed it to Aart. It was pretty rope, purplish, and soft to the touch.

"Put your hands behind you," requested Aart, politely, and I did, politely. He took a sixteen-footer from the pile of rope and doubled it over. He pulled both my arms up behind my back by the wrists and began tying them tightly together with my palms facing each other. I winced slightly.

"I'm sorry, this has to be tight so it will hold you."

"OK." I really didn't mind. I had two boyfriends back in America who liked to tie me up and have their way with me. I remembered the first time I was tied to a bed and fucked and loved it. Later I would ask them to do other things to me. All the things that had been done to me came back now as I felt the wetness inside my pussy, the hardness of my nipples, the bite of the ropes against my skin. Now there was no return. I shivered somewhere deep inside, fear began to grip me, my mouth, after only a minute, went dry as sand. Sweat began to appear under my arms and glistened on my still-covered pussy. My body was so taut. The guys were laughing, joking. Clearly, they liked me naked, or near to it. I heard the church tower clock in the street strike 3AM. One hour until the boss arrived and I'd start getting fucked, the hot hollow of my groin already needing it.

Done with my wrists, Aart had me lean forward slightly and Kees stepped forward to hold my arms up behind me parallel to the ground so Aart could tie more rope around both my arms just above my elbows. I winced again as he pulled my arms together. Bent over as I was my breasts hung tantalizingly low and Kees stroked them lovingly with one hand while holding my arms with the other. He pinched my nipples and it hurt. But it turned me on to be felt up while I was helpless to resist.

"Does it hurt?" Aart meant the rope around my upper arms.

"Just a little," and it did.

"How are you feeling?"

"Excited. A little bit scared."

"There is no reason to be scared, nothing bad can happen to you."

Actually, I was scared shitless. Thousands of miles away from my home in America, the beauty of my dimpled body stripped of my innocent cotton frock. High up in this secret room in a building where my only connection was work on the bottom floor. And the room in which I was kept bare to the walls. And once they took my dress and underpants there was no more trace of me ever having been there, naked or clothed, fucked in front or in back. And they could keep me here for days without food or water or sleep. And in the supply box there was an assortment of whips and other torture devices. And there was a bed on which I could be chained and fucked by innumerable guys I hardly knew and a few I didn't. What was there to be scared of?

"Do you enjoy being tied up? Does it make you horny?"

"Yes. Yes twice." And I did. Whenever I was tied up I just basked in the glow of my nude body, of what was being done to it, maybe having my arms stretched high above me, my body displayed at full length in front of some guys. The feelings were delicious. Being naked and helpless I'd kind of throw my hair back and stick my tits out and grind my hips a little. My honey brown body, with the white negative imprint of my bikini patterned against my tan, my pale breasts firm and high, just a hint of pubic floss left to glisten on the plump little hillock above my girlhood. I squeezed my thighs together and felt the warm wetness of my cunt and the tightness in my abdomen that I always felt when I needed to cum. For a minute I slipped away inside my own little world, but I came back down when Aart stood behind me and put his arms around me down by my waist and gently placed his thumbs inside the waistband of my panties.

"We have to take these panties off," said Aart, softly. And he did, running his thumbs inside my waistband around to the side and gently pulling them down, first in the back to bare the soft whiteness of my ass cheeks, firm and shapely from thousands of hip thrusts, but soft as foam rubber pillows. And then in front, where the wetness of my pussy now showed through the fabric clearly, and then the pinkness of my labia was revealed, hanging low and partly hiding the tender slit that made me a girl, and I could smell myself, the musky scent that said more clearly than any words that I need to get it. Then the panties came down over my thighs and then they were at my knees and then down to the floor, and I was told to step out of them, and I did, and they were kept for a souvenir of what the guys had seen and done to me.

So I was naked. Having spent hundreds of hours in the gym I flatter myself I was looking fine. I was white as a sheet except for my nipples and both sets of lips. I was shaved bald as a cue ball. My tummy was flat as a board, my bum and my thighs suitably firm. My boobs were large and well-proportioned. I was the perfect model, I thought, for an Erwachen girl. And speaking of being horny I was so far along now I could scream. And I knew they could see me glisten down there. Everyone expects girls to get wet when they are about to get laid. But for me, it also happened when I was put into a situation where I felt helpless. Being surrounded by a bunch of guys at summer camp. Being caught without all my clothes on. Being forced to take my clothes off. Being tied up or held down. There were things I did on my own that made me wet. Stripping and looking at my body in a mirror. Going out in a little bikini. Undressing where I knew someone would see. Stripping for a nude photo session.

I was aware of them staring at my naked eighteen-year-old body. They had to be at least thirty. I knew they wanted me and I didn't blame them. I could see the attraction watching a girl strip and tying her up had for guys. And probably I was ideal. The younger and more virginal you are the better they like it. Not that I can claim to be a virgin, that went the day after I turned eighteen. But I still looked innocent and pure, especially my lack of cunt hair. The fantasy works for some people. And for me, and for the boys I had been with, during something like this, a certain amount of emotional intimacy is created between the person being stripped naked, which would be me, and tied, also me, and the people doing the stripping and tying. And I'm sure that same type of intimacy is created during a casual fucking, which I was about to endure for the first time. I mean with anyone, just some guys like these. In any case, I was soon to find out.

"OK, we need to tie your ankles." Aart bent over and had me place my feet right next to each other and tied them tight too. I closed my eyes with the feeling but purposely didn't cry out.

"One more piece." He doubled over a rope and put the middle behind my neck, then ran the two ends over my shoulder blades and under my arms, feeling the wet in my armpits, then both ends went up to where he started and got tied off. Then they went down my back and got looped under the rope above my elbows and then back up to my neck, pulling the elbow rope up tight to make sure my arms wouldn't come undone. Then they laid me on the bed. The same bed I presumably would soon be tied to and fucked on. All the while, of course, Ericka, though she couldn't speak, struggled on her couch. The guys turned me on my back and began to enjoy my helpless, naked body, as any guys would.

Gerrit started caressing my breasts, running his fingers over them and down along the sides, hungrily, and I caught my breath. My nipples, already hard as rocks, got seemingly harder and I could feel the heat rising down below and my pussy start to moisten.