Staked Out Naked

My nipples stinging and my cock and balls feel bruised, even though Mistress has only struck them a few times.

I describe all this to her when she asks, she relaxes my ties so my arms fall to my sides and rushes to write it down.

Then she comes and unties me, and she makes us a late lunch.

I perch, shaky on the edge of the chair and devour a fruit and cheese salad.

I'm starving, but she told me I need to eat only lightly before the afternoon.

We finish eating and I am sipping ice water and drowsing while sat, when Mistress comes over and starts to run her hands over my body again.

Like she owns me.

I guess she does.

"Thank me," she says.

"Thank you for my pain, Mistress," I say quickly.

"Would you like more?"

My spine runs cold at her words.

She stands, waiting for me to answer.

I have to answer.

"Yes please, Mistress. I would like more," my voice breaks as I speak, but even so I realize it's the truth.

I want whatever this woman wants to give me.

She leans in and softly kisses my ear, "Correct answer," she whispers.

I follow her back to the rope.

Trembling as she re-fastens the cuffs.

Why don't I run?

Why don't I fight?

I could easily overpower her.

I just don't know. I don't want to think too hard about the feelings that I am experiencing.

I shudder as my wrists are raised above my head again.

Mistress walks over with a blindfold and gag.

"I'm going to use a strap now," she says, as I start to sweat.

"This is for some painting prep work. I need marks on your body, but I'm going to stick to the front."

She runs her hand down my torso and gently cradles my cock.

I start to stir in her hand.

"That way you can sleep comfortably on your back tonight." She confirms.

As she raises the gag I blurt out, "Mistress, I'm scared."

She sighs slightly as she pushes the gag in and fastens it.

"It's just pain," she says, cupping my cheek, "just pain."

I blink back tears and nod, taking comfort from her hand, then she slips the blindfold onto me.

It's terrifying standing here, unable to even beg. In the dark, I'm whimpering in fear, but I just can't help myself.

The force of the strap takes me by surprise as the first blow lands across my middle. Knocking the breath out of me, almost like a thump.

Closely following by a sharp sensation. It feels like I have been cut.

I don't have time to panic before the next blow lands. I'm swinging on the rope.

Then another, which makes me bellow in agony as it catches my chest and nipples, which feel like they have been cut open.

I can feel something, liquid? Running down my stomach and legs.

I'm bleeding.

Everything goes silent when the strap hits my hard cock. I can feel myself cumming as I pass out.

It all rushes back almost instantly when another blow hits my chest.

I'm begging, sobbing, frantic. Blubbering nonsense behind the gag.

Suddenly light floods in as the blindfold is removed.

Desperate I look down at myself.

I am scored by angry red marks and welts. Bruises already forming.

Ten, maybe twelve.

My nipples are red and throbbing, but there is no blood.

I have sweat running down my body, mixing with cum on my legs.

The salt from my tears stinging my chest.

Mistress pulls the gag out carefully, "There you go, just let it out, I need to do some work while it's all fresh."

She pulls the chair in front of my battered body and starts to draw.

"It looks amazing," she smiles at me.

I just close my eyes and sob.

Hours later the pain has dulled to a heavy throb and Mistress lets me down, allowing me to lie on the couch while she draws close up details, then finally grabs a few photographs for reference.

I am mostly asleep when she brings me a stir fry that I bolt down in record time.

I have half an hour alone in the bathroom.

Mistress knows I am too sore to jerk myself off.

The water feels like more torture on my body.

Finally, I am strapped into my harness, teased by another painful blow job with no happy ending, and sent to bed.

- x

The following morning, I wake up suddenly in the middle of a spontaneous ejaculation.

Groaning I get my bearings and see Mistress is watching me.

I freeze in fear, is she going to torture my balls again?

Saying nothing she unlocks my wrists and leaves.

I use the bathroom and walk out feeling like a hormonal fifteen-year-old.

Mistress is reading a magazine, still smirking.

"You are on breakfast duty," she informs me.

"Yes, Mistress," I say, too embarrassed to mention what had happened.

"A large breakfast or light breakfast?" I ask.

"Just eggs for me, but you fuel up, she says, not looking up from her magazine.

Thank fuck, "No problem Mistress," I say and start to feed myself discreetly as much as possible while I cook.

After breakfast Mistress sends me to the bathroom again and I come out to find new equipment waiting.

She looks lovely today, in a dark purple dress that floats around her knees. I want to kneel and nibble my way up her legs with my teeth.

She smiles a woman's secret smile when she catches me looking, but I don't say anything. I have to find the right moment to make my case.

I'm confused as Mistress hands me a tiny pair of shorts, almost like speedos.

They hardly cover me and when she cuffs my wrists behind my back, it's worse as my erection grows and I bulge out obscenely.

Next, she fixes a collar around my throat and then a long chain leash.

What the fuck, is she doing pictures on bondage outfits today?

Finally, a gag.

It's a large penis gag and I can only make muffled mumbles once she has fastened it.

It's not uncomfortable though.

"No one wants to hear your opinion on proceedings today," she tells me, as she grabs a locally made shoulder bag and my leash.

Oh Jesus, please we can't be going outside.

To my horror, we are.

Even worse, instead of heading to the private beach, she walks me down the path to a lane that runs towards the local village.

I drag my feet and she gives me a gentle tug, "Come along Puppy Dog," she laughs, teasing me.

I know she is just taking the piss, but I'm so embarrassed and my cock starts to deflate, this is just too much.

As we round a corner, things get even worse.

My cock springs back into life as a woman comes into view. She is clearly waiting for us.

She is beautiful.

At least 6ft 5, she is dressed in tiny shorts and a bikini top. The material straining over her muscled frame.

I can't take my eyes from her as we approach. She's looking at me like I am dirt.

The two ladies, so different, greet each other warmly.

I am interested to see that even though the new woman towers above my Mistress, she speaks to her with obvious respect.

"Marta, I need to ask you something about Kitty," Mistress says.

They both disregard me as I walk behind at the end of my leash.

"First of all, how is she?"

Marta glances back and shoots me a look of disgust, "She is dealing with the utmost dignity, she won't even delay her exams."

"I don't want to offend you," Mistress continues, "but I have to ask. Is she sure?"

Marta stops, her face shocked, "Are you doubting her?"

"No, not for a second," Mistress briefly looks at me and I see something in her eyes, maybe concern.

She takes the other woman's arm to comfort her, "Kitty's a good girl, I don't doubt her for a second, but I have to ask. Is she sure of her identification?"

"Why do you ask?"

Mistress seems hesitant, "He's a natural submissive. Not experienced with punishment or pain, but it's like the more I give, the more he craves. It just seems so unlikely."

My heart is pounding hard. Mistress doubts my guilt. This is what I wanted.

Then Marta speaks, biting off her words in anger.

"Kitty went with her brother and her boyfriend, they watched him for some time. She was terrified but she didn't want to make a mistake."

Mistress takes her hand to soothe her.

Marta draws in a shaky breath and continues, "They were following him for nearly half an hour. There can be no doubt."

"Okay," Mistress squeezes her hand, her shoulders seem to drop a little, "Okay, I'm sorry. I had to be sure," she looks back at me disappointment and disillusionment clear in her eyes.

This fucking gag.

Unable to stop myself I step forward towards my Mistress, my eyes pleading. This CANNOT happen.

Marta pushes me back and grabs my balls in her huge hand, squeezing hard.

I choke with the pain and half fall to the ground.

Jesus Christ she's going to rip my balls off.

"You don't disrespect The Lady," she spits in my face, "I'll kill you if you try anything."

"He wasn't going to hurt me Marta," Mistress says, gently taking her wrist, "Come on now, it's okay."

Marta lets me go and I fall to my knees, nearly onto my face with my hands cuffed behind me.

"I'm sorry Lady. I shouldn't have touched him, he's yours."

"It's okay Marta. Don't you worry."

I drag myself clumsily to my feet as they start to walk again.

Neither of them looks back.

I blink tears away. Mistress is convinced of my guilt now, but maybe when we are off the island.

Maybe I'll get another chance.

We walk through a narrow alleyway and come out near a street, into the side entrance of a café.

As we walk into a yard my stomach crashes to my feet. I've been here before.

Sure enough as we round the corner, my two Amazon Goddesses are there.

Pumping iron in full view of the café customers.

It's not packed, but there must be nearly a dozen people.

And now they're all looking at me.

I can feel my face burning as I am led into the café.

There are only a couple of men. Boys really. Staring at me with wide eyes.

The rest are all women, and they laugh and point at me.

Cuffed, gagged and helpless. My cock bouncing in arousal, even as my face flames.

"Is Old Betty here?" Mistress asks as she is shown to a seat.

An older woman sits with her.

"I'm so sorry Lady, she had to go to the mainland. She accompanied Kitty and Byron back to college."

The woman pours their drinks, "She sends her highest regards and hopes you will forgive her."

"Nothing to forgive, don't be silly," Mistress says, and I notice with interest that everyone seems to relax a little.

Why are they so nervous of her?

She sips her drink, "Will Byron be staying with Kitty then, Lyn?"

The woman, Lyn? nods, "Yes, as long as she needs. His job is safe here, he's a good boy. Kitty made a good choice when she decided to claim him."

They are interrupted when the two Goddesses and Marta come in.

"Oh look," they laugh, "you made him all pretty."

"Can we touch?"

"Sure," Mistress smiles and then she hands over my leash.

She hands over my fucking leash!

They pull me slightly away and start to touch the marks on my body from my beating.

"Oh, look, this must have hurt."

"Did you cry bastard?"

"Did you beg?"

They slap my chest and stomach and twist my nipples. I look at Mistress, but she is now engaged in conversation and not paying any attention.

Marta reaches round and grabs my cock, making me groan, "Kitty's my cousin. I'm going to make you pay."

They laugh and force me to my knees, rubbing themselves against my face and pushing me around.

The other customers laugh and point, some of them are taking photo's on their phones, or filming.

My dick is getting harder and harder.

The younger Amazon calls over to my Mistress.

"Lady, may we play with him? We can shave him again for you, make sure he stays nice and smooth."

Mistress flicks me a quick glance, she looks almost hurt, but then she laughs.

"You do what you want girls, as long as your customers are okay with it."

"Oh, we are all friends here," Marta confirms, pulling a knife out of nowhere and slicing through my shorts.

I didn't even have time to be afraid.

The material is ripped away and I'm paraded in front of the customers.

Numerous women pulling at my cock and balls. Slapping my chest.

Laughing and jeering at me.

I'm sobbing, but still my cock stiffens, and starts to leak pre-cum.

"Oh, he's filthy," one woman says.

"You should chop this off," another adds as she twists my dripping cock cruelly,

"then he can't hurt anyone else."

"That will be up to The Lady," Marta tells her, "I would be happy to do it."

One of the Goddesses comes in with the shaving oil and numerous hands start to massage it into my skin.

It smells of lemon, which stings my wounds and makes me cry harder.

Then I am spread over a table and held down as everyone crowds around to watch me be shaved again.

Apart from Mistress.

She is still chatting away to Lyn, not even looking.

I can't watch as the blades come toward me again.

I try to limit my shaking and breath steadily as the razors are dragged with confidence over my skin.

My chest and stomach.

My arms are pulled over my head and they shave my armpits, as everyone laughs.

Down my abs.

I feel sick as again the sharp blade runs over my cock and balls.

I hardly dare breathe.

It's clear they are scared of Mistress; she will be cross if they hurt me.

She won't let them hurt me.

Next the multiple hands turn me on the table, and I'm laid down on my stomach.

With my hands tied behind my back and the gag it's hard to catch my breath.

Then I freeze as my arse is opened.

They are rubbing oil into my arse crack, and into my hole.

No, no, no, what are they going to do?

Mistress please, don't let them hurt me.

I'm pinned down harder as the blade starts to move almost inside me.

They are shaving my crack.

Fucking hell, there are people filming my crack being shaved, it's going to be all over the internet within about ten minutes.

Christ almighty.

I sob, my welts from the beating are throbbing from the pressure of the table and the stinging from the oil.

I feel completely humiliated, and yet --

I'm still aroused.

I'm so hard my balls feel like they are about to explode.

I want my Mistress.

I want her hands on me.

They finish with the blade and I start to relax, but then as Mistress said to me before.

It can always get worse.

There is lots of giggling behind me and then to my despair I feel myself being opened again.

Something is being inserted into my ass.

I moan in misery as I hear the words.

"Fuck him good Marta. Rape him like he raped Kitty."

I almost manage to free myself, turning briefly to see Marta behind me with a strap-on, and an evil grin.

Many hands pin me back down.

My hair is grabbed as well.

I can't move or beg.

Marta enters me in one harsh thrust and I scream.

I cry. I beg though the gag. I try to tell then I'm innocent.

I continue to scream.

For hours.

They rape me for hours.

At one point their grip loosens, as the strap-on is passed to the next lady, and I look around the café.

My heart starts to hammer as I realize Mistress is not there.

Eyes wide I start to panic and one of the women answers my, unable to be spoken, question.

"The lady just stepped out; she'll be back for you."

Then it begins again.

I close my eyes, allow the pain to overtake me and fade out.

When I come around, I am slumped on the floor.

I'm still bound, though the gag has been removed, probably to make sure I didn't accidentally choke.

My ass feels like someone has driven a truck through me, and strangely numb.

I have lots of bruises forming, from heavy slaps and pinches.

It's nearly dark.

We have been here all afternoon.

Most importantly Mistress is sat watching me.

Waiting for me to wake up.

I start to drag myself into a sitting position, then someone lifts me from behind.

It's Marta. The woman has awesome strength.

I don't say anything as Mistress takes my leash and we start to walk back.

Back through the yard.

Back down the lane.

Every step is painful, I've no idea how much damage they have done.

I'm still naked.

I'm still hard.

Marta and my Mistress are talking quietly, they say goodbye when we get back to the bungalow and Marta leaves without even looking at me.

Clearly, I am nothing.

I keep my eyes to the floor.

I feel naked, and it's nothing to do with being without clothes.

I'm astonished when Mistress walks me into my bathroom, strips her dress off and leaving my cuffs on comes into the shower with me.

She is still in her underwear, but I can't take my eyes off her.

She washes me carefully. Gently.

Somehow, I know she doesn't want to talk.

Maybe this is the best chance to explain myself, but I can't bring myself to do it.

As she washes me, I begin to think that I may feel clean again.

I think of Kitty and what she has been through and I start to cry.

Mistress looks at me, I suspect I see a hint of sympathy and I wonder if she would believe me if I told her I was crying not for myself, but for Kitty.

She wouldn't believe me, not tonight. So, I don't say anything.

As she pulls up my harness and fastens my wrists, I don't say anything.

As she leaves me.

I still can't find the words.

- x

The bungalow is quiet when I wake.

No smell of coffee that makes my stomach cramp with longing.

No gentle humming as Mistress showers, or moves around the kitchen, which makes me smile and feel somehow safe, even though I know that pain is coming.

It feels wrong.

Something is wrong.

I walk slowly into the main room and Mistress is sitting on the couch, staring into space.

She looks tired, older. Almost fragile.

I walk over and she stirs as I kneel before her.

"Mistress?"

She looks at me for a moment and then without any energy unbuckles my wrists.

"Go away," she murmurs.

"Mistress? What?"

"I want to be alone. Go away and do something useful."

My heart skitters as I try to think of what useful role I can perform to make her happy.

"I could go for a run," I ponder, "along the beach, but-"

"But what?"

"I would stay within sight of the bungalow Mistress," I add quickly, "but I have no shoes, or clothes."

She huffs with amusement but doesn't smile.

"You wouldn't get far," she promises. Then listlessly rises and removes a rucksack from a cupboard, chucking it down by the table and flopping back onto the couch.

"Take what you need," she says, gesturing at the rucksack.

My hands shake as I walk over and open the bag.

It's my bag. It's my stuff from the hotel.

They have packed me up and disposed of me. Removed all evidence that I had existed on this island.

I slip out of the thigh harness, leaving it on the floor and pull on some shorts and my running shoes.

It feels so strange to wear my own clothes.

Queasy, I stand and look at Mistress.

"Do you need anything Mistress?"

She shakes her head.

"I'll give you some space then. I'll see you later Mistress," she doesn't respond as I leave.

Already breathing hard from the shock of finding my stuff had been gathered up, I jog down to the sea.

For a while I just stand and let myself calm, my mind emptying into the breezy air, then with a sigh I start to move.

I warm up with a jog along the tide line, then once my muscles are warmer, I start to run.

Pounding the sand, my breath heaving as my body rejoices in the freedom to move properly again.

I've been mostly restrained for days, it feels like months, and I'm grinning and laughing as my feet slap against the soft sand.

My breath is coming fast when I stop and brace on my knees.

I didn't think to bring water, but that's okay. It's worth it for this temporary slice of freedom.

Proof that it is temporary comes when a large woman moves slightly out of the tree line.

She is talking on a phone and obviously watching me, clearly unhappy.

She may be one of the women who taunted and shaved me. She is too far away to be sure.