Captive in Dark Leather: Full Novel

But I don't let it affect my service. My tongue does not waver from its steady strokes on her boot. I know my place. The Woman has demonstrated her complete dominance over me tonight, and shown me who she really is with her whip, and her cruel manipulation. But she is still the Woman, and I still crave the security of the taste of her leather.

I lick, until I hear the command to stop.

Captive in Dark Leather Ch. 6

The sound...it's all around me.

I lick.

The sound is excruciating. Men, women...screaming.

I lick the Woman's boot.

The sound of leather against flesh is constant.

I lick the black shiny leather.

Each blow, followed by a scream. Some are muffled, some are not.

As I lick, I keep my eyes focused on her boot.

Whipped, beaten, tortured, fucked...

Her boot is my whole world. It has to be.

In between the screams and the beating, it feels like a party in here, as the new masters & mistresses whoop it up. We're the entertainment. We're the toys.

After the Woman gave her opening speech and unveiled the female slaves chained to the ceiling, she made her audience watch as she gave them a show. Now they've been let off the leash, so to speak. While I huddle down at the Woman's feet, licking her boot, her clients are having the time of their life...at the captive slaves' expense.

I am relieved to be doing this. The humiliation of being beaten naked in front of an audience seemed so bad at first. Then the pain took over. I can't imagine what my backside looks like right now. It must be so red and swollen, probably covered in welts. Maybe even bloody. But I try not to think about that. I will lick, until I hear the command to stop.

The sounds around me in the enormous hold of this ship are terrifying, and horrific. I'm glad I can't see any of it. Listening to it is bad enough. I am so thankful I was commanded to lick after my whipping. I need this now. I am trying my best right now to make my world consist solely of this leather boot beneath my tongue. Maybe I'm reading a sense of compassion into the Woman that doesn't exist. But I can't help but feel that she is protecting me from these masters & mistresses gone mad. Oh, I have no illusions about her. She is as cruel a human being as I have ever encountered. She clearly enjoyed every second of the long, hard whipping she gave me. She certainly put her back into it. As did I, in another way entirely. And the Woman is the one who put my husband in the position of having to be turned on by my whipping in order to make it stop. But now, I feel that she is letting me have a break, as if I have done my duty for the night. Keeping me here at her feet sends a message to the rest...I am hers. The rest are for their depraved enjoyment, but not me, not tonight at least.

One thing I like about licking the Woman's boot is that I lose all track of time. That's important in a place like this. I disappear into my little world of leather, and hours could pass by for all I know. But nothing lasts forever. I feel the tug of my leash being yanked up. I am forcibly removed from her boot.

I look up at her as I am tugged upward. She is looking away from me with her hand out. Someone places something in it, and she leans down to stuff it in my mouth. It's a black rubber penis-gag that fills me completely. She has no need of my tongue now. My service is done.

The Woman turns me around and positions me on my knees in front of her. There's a high metal chair behind her, and I hear her sit down on it. I feel my hands grabbed and stretched out behind me by unknown hands. They are cuffed to something, probably the back of the chair. A leather hood is placed over my head. But this one is different from the one I was trapped in before. It covers my head completely, except for an oval slit for my eyes (and nose holes for breathing, like the last one). She wants me to watch now.

Is imitation the sincerest form of flattery, or is it just imitation? The first thing I notice in the blur of bodies everywhere, are couples imitating the Woman's act with me and my husband. Women are being whipped on tables while their bound husbands are being jacked off in front of them. So much for imagination. As I look further, I start to see the variations, as other couples give vent to their twisted desires.

Some of the women are whipped and caned where they stand, with the chains from their collars to the ceiling still taut. I see them struggling to maintain their balance on their precarious heels, as the blows reign down on them. A few are played with. One of them even seems to be cumming from the attention. Is her body betraying her, or is she giving in, in hopes of a little mercy? Or maybe she's really turned on by all this.

A middle-aged, matronly looking woman (must be in her 50's) is on her knees with her hands duct-tapped behind her back. She licks the shoes of a mistress while a master fucks her in the ass. The master pulls his shit-smeared dick out of the slave's ass, hauls her up by the hair, and plunges his dick in and out of her mouth until it's clean. Then he shoves her face back down to his partner's feet and goes back to butt-fucking her.

I notice a peculiar statistic among all of the aggressors: They are all couples. That must be a rule of the club. Only couples are permitted in. I imagine that must really limit the clientele base, since it narrows it down to rich, dominant, deviant couples without any interest in the law. Then again, maybe deviance and dominance are natural characteristics of the ultra-rich. Why not, right?

Either there is a stringent dress code for the clients here, or they all chose to dress for the occasion. It's all fetish attire. Black is the color of the evening. Corsets, fishnets, boots, heels, straps, military caps...what have you. A lot of tits and dicks sticking out, not to mention the butts and cunts. Masters who don't have their dicks wagging out don't keep them in for long.

Nearly all of the "masters" are matched up with "mistresses", but there are some same sex couples spread out among them. A pair of rather mature looking mistresses sandwich a very young woman still chained to the ceiling. She must be in her early 20's. They rub and grope away at her. Another mistress with a punky-buzz cut and very muscular physique has ahold of a black woman on her knees by the hair. She is literally shoving the black woman's face into the ass of a really big, but muscular, mistress. The poor black woman's face disappears between the mistress's immense butt-cheeks.

There are a few pairs of masters focusing exclusively on what they came here for, the male slaves. They are mainly whipping and slapping them. The raging hard-ons they sport must be subjects of frustration to them, since the Woman has declared sex with the husband-slaves off limits for now. She's going to auction off their anal and oral virginity later. All of their victims are ball-gagged, probably to curb temptation from their masters. I must say, if the woman was looking for a way to aggravate these men's violent tendencies, she found it in spades. They are basically using their poor victims to beat their frustrations away. I imagine the built-up frustration will really free their wallets up when auction time comes around. I feel for my poor husband Phillip. Taking forced cock up his ass is not what he signed up for.

There is no compassion here, no humanity. Just unchecked sexual aggression and unbridled lust. They have no regard for us, only what they can do to us. I am lucky that the Woman has claimed me for tonight. My suffering is over on one level, but I will never be able to un-see what's unfolding in front of me. And the screams I hear tonight will resonate with me for the rest of my life.

I feel a pair of hands on either side of my head. They gently turn me. It's the Woman. She guides me towards the left and then stops. I stare out, wondering what I'm looking for, and then I see it, through the haze of leather and bodies. My husband Phillip, he's with two masters. He's still naked and collared, with ankle cuffs and his hands bound behind him. His cock is also still in it's leather sheathe.

The master in front of Phillip holds him in place, caressing his neck and cock with either hand, while licking all over the ball-gag, and face. The master in back whips him with a leather strap, from his back down to his thighs. This is beyond cruel. Phillip looks like he's in even worse hell than he was when he was jerked off while he watched me being whipped.

I can't help it of course. I watch. I can't take my eyes off them. It starts having a hypnotic effect on me as I become used to the rhythm of the whip. Then I feel something down in back of me. I jump slightly. Something rubbing down at my ass, it advances down along my cunt. I look down. I see the tip of a boot peaking out under my cunt. It's the Woman's. She moves her foot around, massaging me down there. I feel her hands around my head again now. She tilts me up. She wants me to watch Phillip while she plays with me down there.

It feels good down there. I don't want it to, but it does. I can't help myself. I don't want to feel this, but I do. I try to distract myself, but that's impossible. My thoughts just go back to the taste of her leather on my tongue. Knowing her boot is rubbing me down there just heats me up.

I try to close my eyes, but what's the use? The Woman synchronizes her rubbing down there to the rhythm of the whipping. I lose myself in it. The screams and other sounds fade into the background now, an ambient soundscape of brutal sexuality and violence. I don't want to be turned on by any of this, but I can't help it. No matter where I try to go in my mind, the taste of her leather comes back to me.

Will I cum from this? Can I? Without a vibrator? It seems possible. Maybe if I just lean into it and get it over with. After all, how bad could it be to have an orgasm now?

Suddenly I feel something quite different. The sound of a body shifting behind me. Something brushes against my body, working itself up. I'm pulled back, and then...it's her other leg! The Woman has draped her other leg up on my shoulder around my head, pulling me back into her, between her thighs. The back of my head presses against her warm cunt. I can't feel it as directly with this hood on, but I know that's where I am.

She presses back with her leg into my face. I can just see above it. This is torture! Does she know what she's doing? The leather of her thigh-high boot presses right into my mouth, but I can't taste it! My mouth is blocked by the penis-gag, and the leather hood over it. I feel her leg rubbing against my face. The scent of her leather is intoxicating. It makes me want it so bad in my mouth, but I can't have it. If I could bite and chew through this gag and hood, I would. Does the Woman know this? I'll bet she does.

The Woman starts moving and rubbing her leg against my face in rhythm to the whipping, and rubbing her other foot down against my cunt in time as well. Oh my God, I've never felt anything like this before. The master whipping my husband looks this way. He must have made eye contact with the Woman. He's keeping up his pace for us. He's going to whip my husband until I cum. Now I have to do it.

As I start getting that feeling, I notice more movement. Her hand has a grip on the top of my head. She's using me, moving me...oh my fucking God! She's rubbing my leather-hooded head against herself. She's using me to...to...

This puts me over the edge. The combination of the Woman's boots against my cunt and face were already overpowering, but this...the feeling of being used as a helpless object for gratification pushes me over the top. I suddenly cum, screaming as much as the penis-gag will let me. She holds me even tighter with her hand and leg as I buck against her body. Oh God, I've never cum like this before. This is like a tsunami wave of orgasmic feeling. It seems to last forever, yet also fade away in moments. The Woman holds me in place as I come down from it. My eyes closed at some point. I open them, and see my husband across the room, staring into my eyes. The whipping continues at that same rhythm, while the other master continues to lick and grope him. The Woman renews her rhythmic movements with her legs.

I'm sorry, Phillip. I can't help it. This is too much for me. I ramp up in no time, and cum again, even more powerfully than the first time. I bite down so hard on that rubber penis as I scream. I feel myself squirting, flooding the Woman's boot in my juices. The thought of having to clean it afterwards just sends me even higher in the orgasm.

It's epic, but it finally crests and subsides. I collapse into the Woman in a pile of sticky sweat as I struggle to catch my breath, confined to only taking in air through my nose. I look out at Phillip. He's still being whipped, looking at me with dead eyes. His cock is hardening in that harness. I don't know what that says about his state of mind right now, or about us.

The master whipping my husband suddenly ramps up his speed. The blows come down faster on Phillip's body. Why? Wait, I get it now. The Woman hasn't stopped using me during all this. She's rubbing my leather-encased head into her cunt. I feel her other hand back there. She must be working her clit with it. The whipping is ramping up to meet the rhythm she's working me against her with. I'm...I'm...I'm being used as her masturbation tool. I'm her living sex toy. I guess I'm not the only one who has a thing for the feel of leather. In my sweaty weakened state, I just go limp and let her use me. With the sound and the feel of her body all around me, I can tell she's ramping up as well. Something will probably happen in no time. I steel myself for it, but...

...Nothing happens. What's going on? She seems so close. I then feel her intensity going down, but she's still using me. There's nothing I can do. I'm trapped here, so I just have to kneel and take it. After a while, she ramps back up again. She seems to be getting close, but then it's back down again.

I finally get it after awhile. She's edging. She's an edge queen. She's going to tease and tease her body until she's finally ready to commit to it. I also get the other reason she's doing this...Phillip. The whipping continues, matching the pace of how she uses me. The Woman is doing it to prolong his pain and agony as much as anything else. And her foot is still down there, rubbing against my cunt. The smell of her cunt is now just as powerful as the smell of her leather to me. It's all mixing with the ambient smell of sex and sweat in the room. So many masters and mistresses have fucked the female slaves now that it smells like the brothel from hell in here.

The smell, mixed with the rubbing, mixed with the feeling of being used, while watching Phillip, and now the memory of the taste of her leather on my tongue is back again...

...Oh God! I'm cumming again. I didn't even feel it sneaking up on me, but now I'm getting close, and...and...

The Woman cums! Her leg pulls me in to her like a vise, nearly choking me, as I feel her shudder all around me. She comes like you would expect a Woman like this to cum, in a powerful show of force. She screams, yells, squirts all over my head. Her other foot beneath me stiffens, nearly lifts me off the floor. All this sends me over the edge too. I cum again, just seconds after she's started to. We're a pair of screaming, cumming banshees, with our bodies intertwined together. I've never felt anything like it. I know Philip's never seen anything like it. I want to think that the Woman's never felt anything like it either, but I don't allow myself to go there fully. She uses women like me for a living, and it's clearly not just a job to her. I'm sure she's used people for her sexual needs every which way she can think of. I'd like to think this was a new wrinkle for her tonight, but I'll never know. All I know is, I felt something...something more powerful than I've ever felt before.

The Woman milks her orgasm for all it's worth, taking me right along with it. We finally come down from it. The feeling is different now. I feel her body around me, heaving as she breathes heavily, coming down from her exertion. The smell is so much stronger now. The pungent aroma of her blocks everything else out, even her leather.

I allow myself to collapse into her. I close my eyes as I retreat into myself. At some point, I realize that my mind has gone back to the taste of her leather on my tongue. That's where it always seems to go now.

The sound is gone. I open my eyes and look out. The masters are done whipping Phillip. He just stands there now, an exhausted mess, trying to keep his balance with his hands still bound behind him. The masters are in front of him. The one with the military cap is on his knees, sucking off the bigger one who was doing the whipping. The Woman keeps her legs under and around me, and makes no effort to move us. So I just stare as this man sucks off the other man. It takes a few minutes I guess. I really have no concept of time at this point. They're practically putting on a post-coitus show for us. I've never watched a man suck another man off before, so I have to say, this is a novel experience.

At some point the master standing grips the kneeling master's head with both hands, and forcefully face-fucks him. The kneeling master grabs the other's buttocks, and pulls him in. The standing master thrusts and thrusts, and then stops, holding his cock in there. He must have cum. Then he pulls out. The kneeling master looks at me, and smiles. Then he stands up, grabs my husband, and licks all over Phillip's face. He stands back, and I see Phillip's face covered in cum. Oh Phillip...how things can get even worse for you is beyond me.

The masters than reverse positions. What are you going to do, right? The guy who did the all the sucking has a raging hard-on, so something's got to be done about it. After the whipping master has gotten a mouth full of cum, he also spreads it all over my husband's face. Then they put their arms around each other, and walk off, just leaving my poor husband standing there, staring at me.

That's when I feel my hands being uncuffed from the chair. I hear the scrape of it moving against the floor and feel the Woman getting up behind me. The show is over for her. Then I feel the tug on my leash. I pivot to get down on all fours just in time to crawl after her before I can be dragged across the floor.

Chapter 7

The woman had been merciful, in her own way. After whipping me with her strap, and making me explode orgasmically while I watched my husband be whipped, she let a handler bring me back to my cage for the night.

I slept. It seems inconceivable that I was able to even close my eyes, but I was so exhausted, that I probably passed out before my cage had even been locked. That's the benefit of the punishing, physically exhausting schedule they've forced on us. I'm seeing benefits to this whole experience. Can you believe it?

The woman's boot is right there, outside the cage. It's so close. My face is pressed against the bars, my tongue is stretched out as far as it will go, straining for her boot, for the taste of her leather. It's so close, but I just can't reach it. Why won't she move a little closer? She knows how badly I want it.

I am suddenly woken up. It was just a dream, of course. Just the latest variation on the same dream I've been having for days. I can't remember ever having had another one before.

My eyes slowly adjust to the light as the handlers strike my cage and shout for me to wake up. It takes me a moment to realize why the light is such a tremendous shock, and then it comes to me. I have been sealed in a leather hood every night before being put in my cage. This was the first night I had slept without it. And after I open my eyes fully to look around, I realize why.