You are the Thirteenth Hole

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of fictional mind control, rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.

[Task: if you're feeling adventurous, do something special while listening to this story. Insert a dildo into your pussy. Ideally, have the dildo mounted on a pole standing on the ground. Loosely tie your legs together. Stand with your arms at your sides and your eyes closed until the story ends.]

The life of a slave girl is often dull. You've been waiting a surprisingly long time in your cell for your next job. The cell is quite small. You're kept naked. There's a screen outside the cell that you can see, but it just streams BDSM videos. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. There is literally nothing to do but masturbate while watching girls like you being bound and gagged and disciplined.

You look forward to new work assignments, but dread them as well. Sometimes they're not so bad. You like the ones where you wait on customers at parties, serving beverages and snacks. It's nice to get out and about and meet people. Sometimes you even get to use your arms. Often, your arms are strapped tightly behind your back, and a tray is mounted to your waist, so all you can do is walk around and let guests help themselves.

Your most recent work assignment was another matter entirely. You were a bondage decoration as part of an art show. A dozen slave girls, including you, were tightly bound in unusual poses and kept on display in a gallery. Breaks were brief and infrequent. Your days were nothing but being helpless, motionless, just a living piece of art to be admired by art enthusiasts and perverts.

When you hear footsteps coming towards your cell, you aren't sure whether to be excited or apprehensive. But then your handler says you'll be working at a country club. Specifically, on the golf course. You'll get some fresh air and sunshine in wide open spaces with beautiful scenery! That sounds so fun! You're guessing you'll be a cart girl. You like the idea of wearing a cute little skirt and driving a cart around the course, making sure the rich old men are all happy. That will be such a nice change from being completely immobilized and on display!

An hour later, you are on duty. Fresh air and sunshine indeed. You can feel the warm sun on your skin, but you can't see that beautiful scenery.

It turns out this is no ordinary golf course. Apparently there's this new sport that's been overtaking golf courses. It's called jolt golf. It relies heavily on technology... and slave girls.

You are naked, except for some sort of thin, fine mesh that doesn't conceal your nudity in any way. You are mounted on a steel pole, with a dildo deep in your sex. Your feet rest on a horizontal crossbar a foot above the ground, with metal cuffs firmly binding your legs to the pole. Your wrists are cuffed to a waist chain. A metal mask completely covers your head except for a small airhole. Apparently this mask is for your safety.

You faintly hear some male voices. The next group of golfers must be nearby. You wait in nervous anticipation, squeezing your thighs together in a way that makes you prominently feel that dildo inside you.

You have a vague idea of what's happening. You got a quick explanation as you were being mounted in place. You were lucky you got even that; slave girls don't need thorough information, after all. This golf game isn't played with clubs and hard little balls. Instead, they're throwing some sort of little contraptions called jolt bolts, something between a dart and a paper airplane, but it's electronic? You didn't fully understand the explanation, and you didn't get a chance to see what they looked like. When thrown with force, they can glide a decent distance, but skill is needed to keep them on a gently curving path to the destination without wobbling wildly off course.

Then you feel it. Something hard and fast moving smacks into your right thigh. An electric shock snaps painfully where it struck. You squeal softly into your ballgag, more out of surprise than anything. There's a pinching feeling at that spot. The bolt has snapped onto your tender flesh with its metal jaws, like a clothespin or nipple clamp. It hangs heavily from that spot.

And your pole slowly starts to rotate as the dildo slowly, agonizingly slowly, starts to piston up and down inside you.

Unlike golf, the objective is not to have the lowest number of strokes - or throws, in this case. It is to get the highest score. The bolt must latch onto skin; it will bounce off your metal hood or shackles. The mesh you're wearing is part of some kind of system that tracks the hits and their points and reports them to apps on the player's phones. Different body parts have different values. Your breasts are worth more than most. Your clit is the most valuable of all, but it is also the smallest target. And whenever a bolt latches onto you, you start to spin. The more points earned, the faster you spin. So although taking a large number of throws does not penalize a player, the more players that latch on before them, the faster you will spin, making it much harder to hit a valuable area of the target. A valuable area on your sensitive, vulnerable flesh.

Another bolt thunks into you. This time on your upper left arm. The sudden hard impact hurts a little. The electric shock spiking into your arm hurts more. The bolt latches on. You try to ignore the pain of the clamp, but being unable to see, it's hard to focus on anything else. Your spin increases slightly and the dildo starts moving slightly faster. At least, you think these things happen; the arm isn't a very valuable target, so it doesn't have much impact.

You hear a clank, but don't feel a bolt. It must have hit some of the steel. Maybe the pole or your wrist shackles or something. You continue turning around slowly, like some kind of rotating centerpiece.

An unusually hard throw impacts the underside of your left breast. You wince from the strike on your soft flesh, and the vicious electric shock. The clamp hangs heavily from your tit, pinching mercilessly. You start spinning significantly faster. The rotational velocity causes the bolts to swing outwards, pulling harder on the clamps on your skin. It hurts, but the dildo distracts you - it's moving up and down much faster now. It feels really, really good. You're getting a little dizzy, but you're feeling good. You've been out here for a while and some pleasure is very welcome. Too bad it didn't get your nipple. That clamp would hurt like heck, but the dildo would be giving you so much more pleasure now.

The next bolt thunks painfully into your right butt cheek. That was likely more luck than anything. Generally players try to aim for the front of the body. The player must have misjudged timing due to your spinning and just gotten lucky to get a decently scored area. The electric shock and clamp hurt. You start spinning faster, and it's starting to get unpleasant. But the dildo is moving rapidly up and down and now it's actually starting to vibrate. That doesn't always happen, but this group has gotten good enough scores to give you more pleasure. Yes!

If only someone would land on your clit! You know it would really hurt, but you want it desperately. The vibration would kick up to its highest gear and you would cum so hard, right here on the golf course, maybe even more than once! It would be so worth it.

Come on, come on! Clit shot, clit shot, clit shot! You never thought you'd be rooting for your poor little nub to be tortured, but being bound and horny and helpless to do anything about it has given you a new perspective. A girl has needs!

The final player's bolt thunks into... your left breast. Further out than the other one that hit there earlier. You're not sure what's worse. The pain of the impact and the electric shock snapping across your already-abused breast, or the disappointment of knowing you won't get as much pleasure as you hoped for.

You do spin a little faster. The dildo does move up and down slightly faster.

The vibration does not increase.

You are so close. So freaking close! Maybe this is an unusually large group and there will be another player? Just one more! One good shot is all you need!

You hear the rich old men talking, although your metal hood muffles it.

You hear the voices getting closer. No, no, no!

They walk right up to where your naked, helpless, spinning body is on display. The first bolt is always the hardest. Someone grabs one of the bolts clamped to your breast, and the force of your spin yanks your breast out of the clamp. That hurts so freaking much!

Your spin slows, and the other players open the jaws of their jolt bolts, retrieving them for use on the next hole. With each removal, your spin slows further. The dildo stops vibrating. Then it stops moving altogether.

As you slowly come to a stop, you hear the voices moving further away. You are panting and sore. Your pussy juices are running down the dildo that is embedded deep inside you.

Once again, you are left aching and needy and without orgasm. Once again, all you can do is wait until the next group plays through. There are eighteen of you slave girls here today, spread over the course, immobilized and mounted naked under a bright blue sky you cannot see, used as game equipment by the wealthy. You are just one of them. You are the thirteenth hole.

You're really, really hoping for a clit shot.