The Whip Or The Vibrator Ch. 03

The Whip Or The Vibrator Ch. 3

Introduction: This story is inspired by and in tribute to some of the women of this site who go in for the edgier and more extreme kinks and fetishes. I hope they appreciate it.

Brief Recap: CapCunt (short for her online name Captured_Cunt_For_Use) is a middle-aged divorcee with very extreme fantasies she's never acted upon before. She's just flown halfway across the country for a tryst with Duke101. After signing a contract that specifically listed Consensual Nonconsent, she was forced into the back of a van by Duke and his accomplice Sado-Chick, and brought up to their ranch in the mountains with their other "guest", Kit-5. The two women were strung up in a barn, and CapCunt was offered the choice of the whip or the vibrator. She chose the vibrator.

I slept soundly in our cage that night, bound and pressed up against Kit-5 all night. I had the five orgasms I'd enjoyed while the poor younger woman was whipped all night to thank for those blissful hours of restful oblivion.

The next night it was the same thing. We were cuffed to the ceiling in the barn again, only this time Kit-5 was given the choice of the whip or the vibrator. She chose the vibrator, of course. I really wondered if anyone ever chose the whip. I doubted it, no matter how much of a maso-pain slut some might be. At least I knew what I was in for, unlike Kit-5 last night. I don't know if that helped or not, but I like to think it did. Still, I'd never so much as been spanked before, even though I'd longed for it ever since I could remember. To go from nothing to the most intense whipping session I could have ever imagined was a real test of my sanity, not to mention my butt.

Kit-5 didn't hold back. She'd been forced to wait an extra day to cum than me, and she couldn't have needed it more. As soon as her gag was out of her mouth, she started shouting all sorts of obscenities at me, encouraging Sado-Chick to really let me have it. But watching her being taken to the edge and over it is what got me through this ordeal.

After the whipping and the fucking, I reflected on the night back in our cage, bodies pressed together. You know what I wanted more than anything? Not to be free, not to be back home, not even to have a backside that wasn't covered in bruises and welts. I wanted to cum again. I just wanted to be able to get my hand down between my legs to rub myself sore for an orgasm. God, I wanted to cum so bad after being whipped and used as a fuck-toy all night. Remembering what Kit-5 looked and sounded like cumming as I was whipped just made me want to cum even more.

The week progressed from there. We were let out in the morning to squat, and piss and shit. It was beyond humiliating to be wiped clean out in the dirt by these people. Then our phones would be presented to us while we squatted. The directional finders had been disabled. Calls would be made to our designated contacts, and we would follow our scripts, letting them know we were doing just fine and enjoying our trips very much, thank you.

On the morning after my whipping, I guess Duke felt Kit-5 had had enough time to heal. After our calls, he put her face down right there in the dirt, and took her anal cherry. He was never gentle, and this was no exception. We were lucky enough that he lubed himself up first. It was the dirtiest, most degrading kind of sex imaginable, as he just plowed into her body after working his cock inside. She grunted there in the dirt as he fucked her until he came, while Sado-Chick videoed it, and I just watched. Then he went to hose off his cock with some soap. As she lay there, face-first on the ground, I had just one thought: I would have traded places with her in an instant. Sado-Chick then rounded us up for a thorough cleaning and feeding in the barn.

Some black SUV's showed up a few days later, with guests. They were all couples. Go figure. Kit-5 and I were fitted with harnesses, blinders and bridals, and hitched up to a carriage for two. We then spent the day hauling the guests around the perimeter. Some were more liberal with the whip than others. It was hard, tough work. I sincerely hoped we were at least going to lose a few pounds with this kind of workout.

That night Kit-5 and I got our first look in the house. As the guests mingled and ate from a bar-be-que, Kit-5 and I were led in after being cleaned and groomed (including enemas). We were placed in these metal contraptions in the middle of the room that held us in place on our knees with our arms facing out. The angles at our mid-points were adjustable, so our bodies could be pitched forwards or backwards. O-Gags kept our mouths open, and we couldn't help drooling. After just being stuck there for awhile watching the guests socialize and ignore us, some guests started coming up to us. First we were fondled, and squeezed, and toyed with. Then the implements came out, and we were whipped. Then the fucking started. We were fucked all night in every hole by the guests and their hosts. A lot of double penetration on each side. I tasted every cock and cunt in the house, and soon learned the taste difference between a clean cock and one that had been in my pussy or ass. At one point, when most of the men had cum at least once and needed a wait for another hard-on, the women staged an edging contest for them. They took turns edging Kit-5 and me with vibrators and dildos. The first one of us to break was then slapped, as the audience applauded. The women also enjoyed their strap-ons, and for the finale, the dildo gags were exchanged for our O-rings, and the women all took turns fucking themselves on our faces while the men fucked us from behind.

Duke & Sado-Chick had vivid imaginations, no inhibitions, probably a wealth of experience, and no shortage of tools, toys & implements. If you can imagine it, I've probably lived through it, and been fucked or whipped by it.

All good things come to an end, right? After a full week of captivity and use, Kit-5 and I were loaded back in the van one morning, just like we'd been loaded in it the first time: cuffed, collared, gagged and chained to the floor. We made the long drive back to SFO. They really were letting us go. I have to confess, I'd been wondering about that quite a bit. I had absolutely no idea where reality and fantasy began or ended. Was this all some elaborate sex fantasy taken to the Nth degree, or was it really kidnapping and rape? I'd signed a contract. I'd agreed to this, at least in theory. And I'd certainly cum every chance I'd gotten. I could have cum on that mattress on the drive given half a chance.

Duke butt-fucked Kit-5 in the van in the parking garage. He obviously wanted one more fuck, and probably figured she deserved this experience, since she'd had to watch me take it before. Then they left us there alone. They returned back later with our clothes, and dressed us there inside on the mattress. At least we hadn't pissed all over it this time. Then we were led out of the van, and Duke and Sado-Chick drove off, leaving Kit-5 and I standing there in the parking garage with our carry-ons. To anyone passing by, we'd have just looked like a pair of bewildered travelers, probably confused about where we parked the car.

The first thing we did was take a good look at each other. We'd never seen each other with clothes on before. I'd gotten glimpses when Kit-5 was stripped beside me a week earlier, but hadn't really been able to see much. She wore a grey and black dress that looked sort of vintage with a hint of Goth After we'd checked each other out, we started walking. Kit-5 and I didn't say a word to each other as we walked back to the terminals together, hit the first restroom we could find for a long overdue pee, found our flights, and separated. But we did walk together. I figured that would be the last we would ever hear from each other.

I slept like you would not believe on the flight back to Indiana, then made it back home from the airport in a total daze. As soon as I got inside and locked the door, I pulled my pants down and hit the couch to masturbate furiously. It made me feel cheap and pathetic, and that just turned me on even more. Then I slept through the night. I had one more day off before I needed to return to work. I wasn't sure what to do with myself, but I'm sure I needed it to decompress and get my strength back. My body sure appreciated the day of rest. I was sore in places where I didn't even know I had muscles. Bruises and welts in all the expected places. I was also a mass of contradictory feelings that day, as I drifted in and out of sleep.

First, I couldn't stop masturbating. Every time I reflected on the past week, it would just fire me right up. I spent a lot of time in bed or on the couch, and took warm baths between bouts of masturbation and napping. I had never been more glad to finally be living alone in my life.

Once I came down from those orgasms, I would start to really think about the week. The first thing I couldn't figure out was why neither Kit-5 nor myself hadn't gone straight to the police, instead of just boarding our flights. We had been abducted and assaulted, after all. Or had we?

I'd signed a contract. I had consented to...well, something. Not what actually transpired, necessarily. There had been no mentions of Sado-Chick's involvement, or being threatened with Tasers, or being transported and imprisoned at God knows where in any of my prior "negotiations" with Duke. Okay, that word "negotiations" is pretty much a joke here. Duke never did offer much in the way of concrete details about what to expect. And, I liked it that way. The mystery was so much of the allure for me. I wanted to be taken, and used. Just maybe not to such an insane degree. I never expected flowers, but I guess I was imagining dinner and a few drinks first.

I thought about that contract. That was consent right there, or close enough to it. What would I have possibly told the police? That I was a sex-starved maniac who was so desperate I'd willingly fly halfway across the country to offer myself to this man, without even sharing our real names or pictures?

Yeah, it became really clear really fast why neither of us had gone down that road. We hadn't even bothered to get the license plate of the van as it drove off. It would have been so easy. I guess Duke & Sado-Chick were so sure of themselves, they didn't think there was any chance of it happening.

I read back through my messaging with Duke. I masturbated. I poured through every detail of his profile. I masturbated. I skimmed through so many stories in the darker erotica and discussion groups, looking for clues to I don't know what. Of course, those just made me masturbate even more. And, I examined every contract in Duke's photo gallery. There were more than thirty of them. All of the names on them were pseudonyms like my own of course. I looked them all up on F*t. Some of those women were nowhere to be found. But some of them were.

I found about an even dozen here on F*t. You would not believe how many of them apparently lived in Antarctica. I wondered if I'd be moving there online as well. As I combed through all of their profiles exhaustively, I wondered why I'd never thought to do this before. Some of these women had just a few pictures, and some had a lot. Some had journal entries or amateur erotic stories too. One belonged to a couple, and I wondered if the male half of the couple had also been part of an arrangement. They all belonged to the same sort of groups that I did. Some of them had gone dark, become inactive on the site, often years ago. Others were very active. I thought about reaching out to them, but what would I say? Yeah, I needed more time. I had some processing to do. I knew it was a risk to do it all on my own, but even the thought of confiding in a professional therapist was too much for me.

Some of those women were in Duke's friends list. Was it telling when some of them weren't? Had they blocked him? I searched for someone who could possibly be Sado-Chick, but I never found her. I'd never heard her referred to by name, so I didn't have that to go on either. Maybe she wasn't even on this site, or online at all. Maybe she was just a ghost, whose memory would never fade.

I was back in my office handling financial transactions the next day. I tried to put the week's "vacation" out of my mind as much as possible and concentrate on the backlog of work. I must say, I was pretty successful at it. I still played with myself in the stalls on my bathroom and lunch breaks. But even though I was back in the real world, I wasn't, really. I had one foot in the normal world, and one foot in this dark shadow world that no one could even guess existed. It eventually started to become an issue, as my ability to relate to the "normals" around me became more and more of a chore. Every day, I felt I was putting on more of an act at work than the day before, just playing this part to make it through the day, and then rushing home to get back to my new real life. If I hadn't had my daughters to ground me, I don't know what I would have become in the long run. But since they were grown and moved out, their influence wasn't very strong. I had too much time on my hands.

My first few nights back consisted of scouring F*t and the internet for clues to I don't know what, and masturbating. Then on my third day back at work, I got an email notification. There was a message waiting for me on F*t. I never checked it at work, didn't even have the app on my phone. Probably just another random dude spamming me anyways. It used to happen all the time, but not so much anymore.

But when I popped into F*t that night, I saw it was a message from Duke101. A very short message:

"The next time will be harder. Harder and rougher."

Next time? What? What the fuck? WTF? What next time? I was lucky to survive the first time. Fuck that!

Then I suddenly remembered what it felt like being pressed by Duke's body into the mattress in that van, what his breath smelled like as he pulled my hair and plunged his cock in past my anal ring, and....you know.

Half an hour later, or maybe 45 to an hour, as I was coming down from a powerful mega-gasm, I found myself back on Duke's profile. In the photo gallery, were two new contracts: mine, and Kit-5's. I just stared at those contracts for the longest time, going back and forth. They were identical, just like all the others. Only the names were different. I suddenly realized that I hadn't even searched for Kit-5's profile before. I obviously didn't want to, but I didn't know why. So I typed Curious_Kitten_5...

...And there she was.

She was 26. A graduate student, up in Oregon. Not much experience. Like me, there were no face photos, just some blurry body shots taken at oblique angles. Like me, she probably had some body issues, and had a hard time seeing photographs of herself. She probably had a real life apart from these sexual yearnings too, that wouldn't lend itself to being outed from face pics. There was no writing to speak of. Her activity mainly consisted of "loving" other people's posts and pictures. But, she belonged to all those same groups that I did. And her fetish list was very similar to mine as well. I thought about reaching out to her, but why? I felt a need to do it, but I couldn't think of any reason that clarified that need...so I didn't. I closed my laptop, went on with my night. Exercised a little, cooked dinner, zoned out on Netflix...and then as I was feeling the need for a pre-sleep wank-session, I opened up the laptop. There it was. A message from Kit-5 was waiting in my inbox. I opened it up: "I see our contracts are up now."

That was it. That was all she wrote. My response wasn't much longer: "Yes, I saw. Did you also get the message from Duke?"

Kit-5: "Yes."

And that was it. What more was there to say? I closed the laptop, played with myself, went to sleep, went to work the next day, and got on with my life, as my bruises continued to heal, and disappear.

I didn't hear from Duke again, and he didn't hear from me. I didn't block him, I didn't report him to anybody, I didn't even hint at our past "relationship" or experiences together to anyone. I just stopped engaging with him, and that was that. I didn't see any sign of activity anywhere else from him either. Now that I thought about it, I first encountered him when he messaged me. That's where all our interactions occurred. That was the pattern, I guess, to never participate in any group settings. One on one. It kept him practically invisible.

I got back to the routine of my life, sure, but I wasn't the same person anymore. Experiences that intense change you, and I was no exception. Soon enough, reliving past "glories" of surfing online while I pleasured myself wasn't enough. I'd had a taste of the real thing, flesh on flesh, cock in ass, punishment by leather. I needed more, but not like that first time...or so I thought. I started reaching out more to people in the cities around me, like Indianapolis, Cincinnati, even Columbus. I soon found myself establishing enough of a rapport with men to make it worthwhile, and travel over the weekend. I didn't find too many candidates any closer than the city (Indianapolis), and still ignored any local munches. I'm not going to lie, I really lowered my standards. Although, how high could they have been in the first place, if I'd ended up at Duke's ranch? None of these men were exact matches for my needs. The ones who came closer than others got my repeat business. Some of them were married. I didn't care, and didn't ask. I needed to be used, punished, fucked, and the more I got, the more I needed. When I found one who could be rough, I would push him to be rougher. I didn't know what I was chasing at the time, but I was certainly chasing something.

I'd originally thought that one exchange with Kit-5 would be it. What could we possibly talk about, unless we wanted to drag each other down rabbit holes of mental illness? But I found myself checking her profile every day. At first, there was no outward activity, like mine. Maybe she was just lurking in the background, like me, or maybe she was gone completely, for her mental health. But one day I finally clicked "Love" on a Hentai image of a woman being bound by a man and a woman, and she "Loved" it a little later. She'd been keeping an eye on me, after all. Then she messaged me.

Kit-5: It reminded me of...you know.

I did know. And that's how it started. We would shadow each other, checking out things the other was loving (never commenting. We were both too shell-shocked to engage that way). Then a very short message would follow. The messaging became more frequent every day, but never developed into any real conversations. Yet that became an ongoing conversation in itself. We had issues, and we were skirting them as much as possible. But one day, about three months after our...shared experience, Kit-5 asked a more pointed question.

Kit-5: Have you been finding men to fuck you?

CapCunt: Yes.

Kit-5: I have too.

And then...

Kit-5: I'm traveling for the long weekend. If I showed up in an Indiana airport, would you pick me up?

I hesitated.

CapCunt: Yes.

Kit-5: What airport would be best?

I gave her the time and airport that would be best for me. Her response?

Kit-5: I'll be there.

And she was. She stepped out of the terminal at Indianapolis International, looking just like she had. If that wasn't the same grey and black dress she was wearing, it was one just like it. We didn't exchange hugs or hellos like so many people around us. We just looked at each for a moment, and then she said "I don't have any luggage to pick up, just this carry-on."

We stopped for a dinner and a few drinks. Conversation was pretty much like our online messaging. I really didn't know what to say, myself. We didn't even exchange our real names. We just never referred to each other that way, and we never talked about our real lives. What we picked up about those was just from observation. After dinner, we drove back to my apartment. We hadn't discussed arrangements either, but I guess we both just knew she'd be staying with me. It was a one bedroom, so I pointed to the couch, and got some things out of the closet for it. I came out to find her sitting down on the couch, opening her laptop. I poured a few glasses of wine to bring in and sat down right next to her. It felt shockingly comfortable to press my body up against hers. She was on F*t, checking her feed. After a few sips and some scrolling, she turned to look me in the eye.