Captive in Dark Leather Ch. 05

Captive in Dark Leather Ch. 5

For what I believe are the last three days, my reality has consisted of darkness...naked, bound and gagged. My head has been encased in a hood of solid leather, with only nose-holes for breathing. I can feel I'm on a ship, surrounded by other women. I can hear them when they don't follow their commands. That's when they are beaten and punished. There are also our captors. The one in charge, the Woman, has taken a special interest in me. It's probably because when she first commanded me to lick, I licked. I tasted the leather of her boot. I've since been dragged around by a leash, caged, bathed, fed and trained to crawl. I've found my center when I'm commanded to lick, and taste her boot all over again.

It started with a naughty vacation with my husband. We were flying in to the Bahamas to stay at a special BDSM-themed resort, Club De La Desclos. It would have been our first time trying anything kinky...if we'd made it there. The last thing I remember is boarding the shuttle at the airport. Then I awoke on a floor in this ship, in the darkness.

After three days, I've finally found some answers. I knew I wouldn't like them. I was prepared for this evening, put into my hood and dildo-gag as well as heels, wrist cuffs and arm-binders. I was led into a room, and chained to the ceiling standing up. My hood was removed after the Woman had addressed her audience. What I saw shocked me. I was chained in here along with 22 other women. They had all been on my plane, or other flights. We were tricked. This is the real Club De La Desclos we thought we were taking naughty vacations to. We were lured here, kidnapped, and are now the captive slaves of a very exclusive clientele, who have paid a lot of money to have their ways with us. There are no limits. No safewords. No rights for us. Just the expectation that the guests will get their money's worth, by using us to fulfill their darkest, cruelest, most sadistic needs. That's what they paid for, and the management believes in customer satisfaction.

I've been looking around since my hood was finally removed. The women around me are in various states. Most have bruises or welts here and there. A few are covered in them. They don't follow their commands. I follow my commands. I've only felt the whip twice, to let me know it's there when I don't.

I've also finally been granted the privilege to see the Woman who's been commanding me these past three days. She is a stunning vision of pure dominance. Mid-40's. Close-cropped hair, dyed jet-black. It offsets her pale skin and blood-red lipstick. A one-piece black leather corset-bustier envelops her mature, slightly curvaceous body. She sports those shiny thigh-high black leather boots, whose taste I have learned to crave. Her eyes are a piercing grey. After her tongue has cruelly invaded my mouth, she says this to me:

"There's something else I've been waiting to do for three days. We'll get to it in just a moment."

The Woman continues smiling, as she looks me in the eye. I struggle to maintain eye contact with her, instead of staring at that cruel looking whip in her hand. I thought it was a strap at first, but now I can see it more clearly. It's an equestrian whip, black leather, for whipping horses. A horse whip. Surely she knows she won't need that with me. I have followed every command she has given me without hesitation. I cannot recall the taste of anything else but the exquisite leather of her boots. She started my training yesterday, and I did so well I thought. I crawled when I was told, and heeled when I was told. She seemed so proud of me. So why the whip?

Something happens behind me. I feel a release, as the chain keeping me tethered to the ceiling is unclasped from the ring on the back of my collar. While maintaining eye contact, the Woman hooks her finger through the other ring at the front of my collar, and pulls. I am led forward as she walks. I struggle to keep my balance and keep up with her in my high heels, with my arms and wrists bound behind me. She leads me back and forth from side to side between the women on display and the people out there. She's parading me in front of the clientele, giving them all a good look. Then she stops in the center and addresses our audience.

"Notice how she struggles to keep up with me, but never falters, never gets out of line. She's not the youngest, and certainly not the prettiest here. But look at her body. Barely a mark on it. Why? Because this one knows how to follow commands. She is one of the easiest slaves to train that I have ever encountered. She listened to the sounds of punishment around her, and submitted instantly. She has yet to give cause for punishment. I almost hate to do this, because she has been so obedient. But I'm like you...I have my needs. And the more she has behaved, the more it's made me crave this."

I start to feel a panic in my stomach building. She pulls me, with that finger in the ring of my collar, over to a table that some handlers have placed front and center on our slightly raised platform (it's a stage, of sorts). It's padded around the sides. Why?

The Woman pushes me against the side of the table, and bends me over it. Helpers appear. Are they the same ones who have bathed me, fed me, caged me, and cleaned me after I've taken a shit in front of them every morning? I feel my legs spread apart while one holds me down against that table. My ankles are cuffed. Leather cuffs? My ankles are secured tightly. I can't move them. A chain is clipped to the front ring of my collar and pulled taut. I am immobilized, bent over this table. Now I know what that padding is for. I am grateful for that tiny mercy. A black ball is suddenly shoved into my mouth. It's pulled tight as it's strapped around my head. I've been ball-gagged. Even though it's nowhere near as intrusive as the dildo-gag that's filled my mouth for most of the last three days, it's still a gag. It's still de-humanizing.

"There's no need to muffle her screams here, of course. But we want just the screams...no actual words to get in the way of our enjoyment. A gag like this prevents her from being able to articulate anything. Now, we take a moment to savor this sight, and..."

Nothing happens for a moment. I can feel everyone's eyes on me in the absolute silence of this cavernous hold. The only sound is my breathing. Then, a quick swish, and...

Whack!

"Mmmmffffff!"

I scream through the ball-gag as leather makes first contact with my ass. She's right, there's no way to talk through these gags, just scream unintelligibly. The whipping hurts. Oh, why is she subjecting me to this? I followed my commands. Isn't that enough for her?

I close my eyes and tense up, ready for the next one, and...

Nothing. Nothing happens. I open my eyes to look around as much as I can. My body relaxes a bit. Why isn't she whipping me? Isn't this why she had me trussed up over this table?

"Now, anyone can whip a slave like this. But to truly get under her skin and make her feel the pain, you have to look for ways to make things...interesting."

I hear a sound in the silence. Shuffling, off to the side. It's faint at first, and then becomes clearer as I catch them in my peripheral vision. Two men lead a third person towards me. The men on either side are captors, handlers. They lead a naked person in-between them, another slave. A black leather hood covers the slave's head. Was that the same kind of hood I was trapped in?

This is a slow process. The slave's ankles are chained together like mine were. They can only move so fast because of this. The wait is agonizing. When they finally reach me, they stop about five feet in front of me and turn to face me. I am shocked when they do that. Why?

Because this slave is a man. His flaccid cock catches my eye first. It's encased in a leather harness of some kind along with his testicles. I can't seem to look away from it. But then I finally do, and take in the rest of him. His hands are bound behind him. He's naked otherwise, except for the chained ankle cuffs, collar and hood. He's also bruised. There are fresh welts on his body. This man has not been following his commands.

Isn't that crazy? The thought that goes through my mind is that he hasn't been following his commands? I'm adapting far too well to this place. After making a note of that, I start putting things together. This man proves that they don't only keep the women for slaves here. Presumably he's a husband...

Wait! The Woman strides up to him. She cups his cock and balls in her hand, gives them a gentle squeeze, and caresses them. It starts to stiffen, but only slightly. Oh my God, I know that cock. I know it so well. It's...

The Woman gestures for his hood to be unzipped, yanks it off with a flourish, and turns to look me in the eye.

It's Phillip! My husband! He's alive, but he's also here, a slave like me. I am frightened and relieved at the same time. I'm so glad he's alive, but with both of us here, I know there's no one searching for me out there. From the looks of Phillip, he's been resistant. It hasn't gone especially well. I hope he's learning his lesson, and becoming more obedient. It's the only way I can see to get through this horrible ordeal.

Phillip and I lock eyes. There's a mixture of panic and relief on his face. He's glad to see me, but not like this. He can't say a thing, because his mouth is jammed with a huge bright red ball-gag.

"Now then", says the Woman, "we have a slave ready for action down there on the punishment table, and her nice strong husband here."

The Woman caresses my husband's cheek.

"What to do, what to do" she murmurs as she strolls from my husband back to me. She's behind me now. I hear the swish of the whip, and...

Whack!

"Mmmmffffff!"

Another blow to my ass. Phillip flinches in the hands of his handlers, who hold on to him tight. I can see it in his face: he wants to find a way to get free and rescue me. But the Woman's not looking at his face. She's looking at something else, down lower.

"Isn't that something?"

She walks back over to my husband and takes his cock in her hand.

"I'll bet he's been fantasizing about taking the whip to her ever since they booked their little trip. Probably building it up in his mind during the long flight. But look at him now. Soft. So very, very soft. What's the matter, big boy, reality not measuring up to your dirty little fantasies?"

She gives him a little squeeze. He moans, and it's not a moan of pleasure. I can hear the fear, frustration, and pain in his moan. She absentmindedly strokes his cock while looking him in the eye. Then she caresses his cheek. Oh God, he looks in agony over this.

"Well, don't worry, I know how to handle cases like this. You'll like what I have in mind."

The woman lets go of his cock and his cheek and wanders back over to stand in back of me. Then she gestures to her handlers and snaps her fingers. One of the men takes my husband's cock in his hand, while the other cups my husband's balls.

"Now, then, I am going to finally take my pleasure with your sweet, obedient wife, and give her the whipping I've been looking forward to for three days. While I work her over here, my staff are going to work your cock and balls at the same time. I warn you, if you know what's good for both of you, you'll get hard fast. For you see, I am going to whip the living shit out of her...until you cum all over her face."

Suddenly, the room is filled with ooohhhs and ahhhhhs from the audience. They didn't see this coming. Neither did I, nor my husband, judging by the horrified look on his face. But unlike my husband and I, the audience absolutely loves this idea. They can't wait for the "fun" to start.

"I warn you, I'm not one to hold back when my fun comes into play. She is going to feel pain like she never felt before, and the louder she screams, the more I'll like it. But how long she suffers is entirely up to you. Her best-case scenario would be for you to be a premature ejaculator. That would sure get her off easy. But maybe you're the type who takes a long time to build up to it. Mmmm...that wouldn't be so good for her backside, would it?"

The horror of this plays out on my husband's face. To save me, he needs to get turned on by watching me be whipped.

"Don't worry, you'll have plenty of help. My men here are very experienced with this sort of thing. They've worked plenty of men to completion. You literally could not be in better hands. Now, if you want to spare your wife some pain, I suggest you get turned on real fast, and spray a nice gooey tribute all over her pretty face."

I can't see it, but I can feel the Woman's arm rear up in back of me. While that goes on, my eyes dart back and forth between my husband's eyes and cock. His eyes are filled with pure anguish. The hands on his cock and testicles are still. They're waiting for it. Then I hear the quick swish, and...

Whack!

"Mmmmffffff!"

As I scream into my ball-gag, the men start on Phillip. One pumps his flaccid cock, while the other gently massages his balls. Such a light touch for a man whom I'm sure can be called on to be as brutal as he needs to be. The audience roars at all this.

I hear another swish, and scream into my gag again as I feel the cruel leather against my ass. Then the Woman grabs a fistful of hair, pulls my head back, and starts really whipping me. She keeps to a steady, brutal rhythm, one blow after another. I pull and squirm against my bonds as I scream into that gag with each blow, while she keeps that tight grip on my hair. And while this goes on, my eyes keep going back and forth between Phillip's eyes and his cock. And I see a big problem as I'm being whipped...

Phillip is not getting hard.

His handlers are certainly doing their fair share, giving his cock and balls plenty of tender loving attention. But that's part of the problem. My husband isn't bi-curious in the least. He finds the idea of sexual contact with men repulsive. It's just not for him. I can't imagine the humiliation he's suffering as these men fondle him in front of a crowd, on top of everything else.

And then I get it. It all clicks into place in the space between one blow and the next. The Woman knows this about Phillip. She knows everything about him, and about me. We both filled out extensive questionnaires about our sexual histories and preferences when we booked our stay at Club De La Desclos. And we did them together, and encouraged each other to be as honest as we could. I remember, we learned some interesting facts about each other that night, and had quite the fuck-fest afterwards. The Woman has access to all this information. She knows how Phillip feels about men. And she's using that to make this situation even worse for him. The Woman is truly a sadist at heart. A cold, cruel, evil, heartless sadist...who loves to swing a whip and have her boots licked.

The Woman also knows I've never been whipped, or even spanked, before. She knows I was open to the experience, but the idea of it really turned my husband on. And like any true sadist, she's using that against us.

It's amazing that all this can go through my mind as I'm being whipped. Frankly, it's amazing that anything can go through my mind at all. My ass is really taking a beating. The Woman clearly loves her work. She's certainly putting her back into it. I keep hearing cheers and revels between hits and my own screams. The Woman really knows how to play to her audience...at my poor ass' expense.

I don't know how much of this I can take, and I'm not sure what the worst part of it is. The pain is excruciating. She's really laying into me. I can't tell if every hit is harder than the one before, or if they hurt more because my ass gets more tender with every blow. There's the humiliation and fear too. Being beaten like this while my husband is emasculated is mortifying, and I don't even want to think about what's going to happen to us afterwards, especially if that crowd gets their hands on us. And there's a feeling of abandonment and failure that I didn't expect either. During my days of captivity, the Woman's voice, and the taste of her boot, have been the only things to get me through this. I followed her commands out of fear at first. But then I grew to look forward to her voice, commanding me to lick. It was soothing, the only thing I had to hang on to. I felt like I was pleasing her with my obedience. Now, even though I recognize her true nature, I can't help but feel like I disappointed her somehow, failed her even, and must be punished for it.

And then there's Phillip. He's suffering something I can only attempt to imagine. There's the revulsion of literally being manhandled in front of an audience while he's bound and gagged like the slave he now is. These men on either side of him are dominating him sexually. But he's also wrestling with the existential dilemma of his wife's predicament. I'm being whipped right in front of him, and it's up to him to stop it. But in order to do that, he needs to show everyone, with his body, that this whipping turns him on enough to cum all over my face. The honorable thing is to refuse all feelings of arousal, to protest my treatment. But doing that just prolongs my agony, as well as his. What should he do? It's an exquisite setup, really. The Woman is a true artist at her craft.

I strain and pull at the chain on my collar and the bonds on my ankles with every hit. My body is feeling every blow. Tears stream down my face. I don't know how long I've been crying.

"I'm not sure if I'm impressed by his will power or concerned about dysfunction. But one thing's for sure, this could go on all night. Well, I can take it if you can."

What!?!

"Actually, I know you can't take it. Matter of fact, you might not be able to take much more of this at all. Would you like to do something to make this end?"

I can't help it. I whimper into my ball-gag. I really do want to get this over with.

"I'll tell you what, then. Sometimes our men just need a little encouragement. Why don't you give it to him?"

I know what she means. Oh God, I know what she means. The ball-gag is unstrapped and pulled out of my mouth. I know what I have to do.

"Phil...Phil...Phillip! I...I need you to do something for me. I...I need you to cum."

The look on his face says this is the worst thing I could ask of him. But I can't help myself. I need this! To emphasize it, she whips me again. I scream extra loud this time, since I didn't feel it coming, and my scream reverberates around the room without the ball-gag in my mouth. It takes a moment to catch my breath before I can talk again.

"Phillip, I know you don't want to do this. I know who much you care about me, how much you love me. And I know how humiliating this must be to be...to be..."

"Try jerked off, pet", offers the Woman.

"Jerked off, by men. But you can do this, and I need you to do it."

The Woman leans down over me. Her mouth is millimeters from my ear as she speaks softly into it, while she caresses my aching bottom.

"He obviously needs to be jumpstarted a little", she says. "The power of suggestion can do wonders with a man's mind. Think about what he might have been expecting when he flew out here with you. Come on, I know you can do this. You're so obedient. I have faith in you."

I look down as I take a moment for this to sink in, and then look back up at him. I look him in the eye.

"Phillip...think about what you wanted to do with me. Don't I look sexy here? I can scream for you, Phillip...my master. Don't worry about what you think you look like to me right now. Don't even think about it. Just remember that no matter what happens, you will always be my master. It's your whip I want to feel on my butt. It's your cock I want in my cunt...and my ass. I want to be butt-fucked for the very first time by you, Phillip, and then I want to suck your cock dry as I clean it with my mouth."