Author's note: this is a work of fiction. It never happened, and likely never will. My thanks to my muse for her careful editing. And to all my many readers for your support over the years. I hope some of you like this.
His heartbeat quickened as her beloved shape emerged into International Arrivals. Smiling, he grabbed her roughly and kissed her brow. Moved back, still holding her, as she tried to pull his mouth to hers. She looked a question at him but knew better than to ask it.
- Welcome home darling. I hope you have your slave-collar handy, as I instructed you?
His face was smiling, but his eyes were not.
She fumbled in her bag, produced the new collar.
- Put it on.
- Not here, please?
- Put it on.
- But I thought...
- I didn't tell you to think, I told you to put it on.
She knew it was her right to refuse. The agreement was that it was her choice to become his slave. Blushing, she hung her head to bare the neck of her long hair, fumbled to fasten the collar.
- Thank you. Now the leash, please.
- NO. You... I... can't -- she glanced around nervously -- not here, please...
- The leash. Now. You can't refuse. You're my slave.
- Jesus, I never imagined...
Her blush spread down her neck, shoulders, the tops of the tits exposed by the slutty dress he'd told her to wear for the long trip. Her hand shook as she handed him the dog leash. He clipped it to her collar, gripped the luggage trolley. She was dragged after him through the crowded airport as he strode for the car park, folks staring. Humiliation she'd never felt before. Her so-called lover -- what the fuck?
- Darling, what... what is this?
- Shut up bitch, you put the collar on yourself.
She bit back a response, said nothing till they arrived at the car. Noted that it was in a corner on its own in a car park emptier than normal. He dropped the leash to load her things into the vehicle, then abruptly lifted the slutty dress to feel her cunt.
- Good bitch, no panties and very wet. Get in and fuck the gearstick.
- Jesus sweetheart...
- Not sweetheart: Lord. Now do as you're told.
His glare told her of his seriousness. She manoeuvred herself nervously into the winter-cold car, knelt gripping the backs of the seats, lowered her groin till her cunt touched the large knob on the head of the gearstick.
- Do it. Be thankful I was kind enough to lube it when I parked.
She slid down onto the cold slick plastic. She was aware that he was leaning half into the car, watching intently. She started to move her cunt on the stick. The knob was much bigger than any cock she'd had in her. As big as a stallion's cockhead, flashed through her mind. Christ... She eased herself down on it, arousal building as she shut her eyes and fantasised.
Then he was in the back of the car, his cock prodding her mouth insistently as she crouched toward the rear seat. She took him in obediently, felt his fingers slide down the front of her slut-dress as he fucked her face. The agonising thrill as fingers gripped her nipples, tugged, twisted.
Her cunt spasmed round the stallion's cock. Her lover withdrew from her mouth and slapped her cheeks, one blow on each, hard enough that her head swayed wildly.
- Good bitch. Now we can go home. Pull your slut-dress right up so that everyone can see your leaking cunt.
She obeyed, sat trembling and exposed, utterly humiliated, for the half-hour ride home through the snow.
Inside the flat, he closed and locked the door. Began stripping her clothes off in the hall. She made to speak, remembered the slave collar, remained silent. When she was naked he lifted a black silk burka from the coat-rack and slid it over her head. Just slits for eyes and mouth. Then dragged her to the living room.
- Tea for the slave, I think?
Her nod was barely perceptible. Her head swayed as he slapped her face again, twice.
- Yes, mas... Lord. Your slave would like tea. Thank you Lord.
He strapped her to the chair, round her waist, so tightly the belt bit into her stomach through the silk. He fussed in the kitchen.
- So, slave -- placing a mug on the table beside her -- how was the flight? I bet the slut outfit got a few folks interested in you?
He was smiling now, his real warm smile, full of love. Her confidence rose for the first time since she met him at the airport.
- Um, yes.. Lord. I had some expressions of interest, especially when changing planes at Schiphol. I thought about your instruction to let a man fuck me in the toilets. But... I couldn't. Sorry... Lord, just couldn't. Went on my own and wanked, thinking about you.
- I didn't think you would. That's OK -- he laughed -- I didn't ask you to wear your slave-collar for the flights. If you had chosen to wear it and you had disobeyed my instruction, you would know the force of your Lord's wrath now. Now, drink your tea like an obedient slave.
She lifted the mug, sipped through the slit in the burka; noticed the different taste, raised querulous eyes to him over the mug.
- It has valerian in it to help you sleep now. You need to rest for a bit.
She didn't see the lie in his eyes. Sipped again, then took a gulp. The mug fell from her hand, emptied on the table. She slumped forward. He unstrapped her from the chair and carried her to the bedroom. Pulled the burka up above her glistening cunt and slid the new vibrator into her. Switched it on full. Cuffed her to the bed. Then pulled the duvet up, turned on the baby alarm so he'd hear her wake, and returned to the living room to read the paper. He knew she'd not be out for long, his medic friend said the anaesthetic lasted less than an hour. The vibe batteries would run much longer.
He rose to her waking moans, audible over the buzz of the vibe in her cunt. When he entered the bedroom she was prisoner to her orgasm, keening, eyes white through the slit in the slavegarment. He pulled back the duvet and raked long nails over her belly. Traces of blood in the scratches. His cock surged.
- Good sleep?
- You basstard...
The belt cracked on her gaping cunt, driving the vibrator right in. She screamed, and his cock dripped inside his suit. Fuck, this was so beautiful... He pulled the pulsing toy from her body, and replaced it with two fingers. Stroked, then tugged, rubbing hard, careful to keep only the pads of his fingers on her internal flesh:
- You wanted love my slavedarling... this is love.
Her hips rose involuntarily and his nails scraped her. She squirted then, jets of sex. He knelt between her legs and drank slavelove for the first time. Unable to contain himself any longer, he unzipped and squatted over her torso. Wanked till he roared, spunkspurt on the head of the black silk burka.
The doorbell sounded. He fastened himself and went to the door. She heard a male voice, deeper than her lover... Lord's. Sounded familiar. Then heard the lounge door shut. Just a low hum of voices.
She was scared now, she'd had no idea he could be so cruel. Laughter sounded, his and the other's. Eventually a door opened, footsteps in the hall. She looked up now, straining to raise her head against the restraints. Fuck: David. His closest friend.
Her Lord's voice -- was he her Lord? ...sweet jesus -- sounded:
- Get your clothes off and fuck her David. She's your slave for as long as you want her. Or rather, she's my slave, that's her choice, and I'm lending her to you.
David entered the room hesitantly. There was a tremor in his voice:
- Jesus lassie, is that you?
- He's gone insane David. Just do as he tells you. Strip and fuck me.
The door flew open and he stormed in:
- Insane is it? I will be if I get any more of this, slave.
This time the whip cracked on her cunt. She'd never felt such pain. David watched horrified as she writhed. The door slammed, but she knew he was right outside.
- Get your clothes off and fuck me man. Give me your cock. I know you've been wanking for me for a long time. He won't be happy till you fuck me. Do it. He'll punish me if you don't; say it's my fault.
David's cock was in her for some time, gently and with care at first. But now he was in fuckfrenzy, impaling her to the cervix, gasping in need as he took her. Neither she nor David heard her Lord enter the room. They started in the camera flash, and the man's cock exploded in her.
David didn't stay, too embarrassed to speak to either of them. The bedroom was dark. She lay panting in the spunk-stained burka, shuddered with occasional sobs. At least David had had the decency to draw the long garment down before he left. She smiled as she felt his spunk dribbling from her cunt, down her arsecrack, pooling on the silk. Jerked in surprise when the torchbeam hit her eyes.
- So, my slave enjoyed him taking her cunt?
She couldn't read his voice. It sounded neutral, but in the state he was in, who could tell?
- Taking your slave gave him pleasure. He told me that mine was his first cunt for years. It gave me joy to pleasure your needy friend Lord, yes. It was your express wish.
- Do not dissemble slave. I know the whole matter is deeply exciting for you, that you are realising fantasies. I know you orgasmed as he took you.
Whether it was his eyes or the torchbeam, she couldn't look. Shut her eyes. Shivered as another glob of the man's spunk ran out of her, clung to her anus:
- Yes Lord. I always orgasm when you fuck me. I orgasmed when he fucked me. Um, three times. The last was total explosion, when he was spunking me. When you took the picture. You'll see my orgasm in it.
He was leaning over her to free her wrists, kissed her mouth softly, edging spunked burka silk into it:
- Thank you for your honesty. You are a good slave.
Then he freed her ankles and slid the garment up her legs. She lifted her arse and the crumpled silk moved under her, then sat up to let her Lord lift it over her head. When he switched on the reading light on she blinked in the strangeness, looked in his eye:
- Thank you... Lord. I'm glad if you think I'm a good slave. I need to please you in every way. That's what this collar means.
- I will understand if you wish to remove it now. I'm happy if you do.
She fingered the leather, smiled:
- No lord. I am your slave for the rest of the day. The collar remains around your slave's neck, where we both want it.
His cock jerked. Fuck, she was more perfect than he'd ever dreamed she could be. His slave. He'd never entertained such a scenario until she told him recently that it had always been a strong fantasy for her, to be used as a slave. The thought had excited him ever since, and now here she was, his slave indeed.
- Good, your Lord is glad. Lord and his slave have much more to explore together. I'm pleased we share that understanding. There are no boundaries, there is no safeword, when you're my slave.
He pushed her roughly down on her back, and re-secured her, pillows under her arse so her genitals were displayed. Then drew something from the box beside the bed, held it before her.
- I ordered a new toy to use on my slave. I don't care whether or not she likes it. It pleases me to flay the slave, to punish her for enjoying being taken by David.
She gasped as she studied what dangled before her eyes. It was a flogger, but quite unlike the toys they'd used before. This one had fine leather thongs, lots of them, tipped with metal. Shining pointed metal. She shivered, shut her eyes. Fear yes, but a new excitement that liquefied her guts. She felt him carefully fasten the eyemask and gag on her head. Ease plugs in her ears. Silent black new world.
She tensed as she felt dozens of hard sensation-points scrape lightly up her legs, one then the other. Drag on her hips. Over her belly. Avoiding her genitals. Then stop.
Her nipples were hard as the clamps were attached, and she flinched when the pain bit. Then the flogger tips traced her bound hands, down her arms, lingered touching stretched oxters. Her muscles were getting sore: he'd fastened her wrists and ankles tighter than ever before.
Gentle scraping over breasts, shoulders, neck. She felt the wetness oozing from her, no longer David's spunk, but her excitement.
Then agony in her nipples as the chain was wrenched. But she knew this was nothing, knew her strange Lord was going to punish her with the wicked flogger.
Punish her indeed! He knew she always orgasmed during a fuck, and he'd given her no instruction not to cum when David took her. Being fucked by another hadn't even been discussed between them, though she knew when she fastened the slave collar that she'd given up all rights to anything.
But it still wasn't fair, punishing her for a normal sexual reaction.
She spasmed as another sharp tug on the chain sent torment crashing through her nipples momentarily. Then felt movement at her neck, continuing pain as her nipples were stretched. She moved her head. Agony. Fuck, he'd attached the chain between the clamps to her collar. She daren't move her head.
His mouth opened on her cunt, lapping. Then the cold vibrator was buzzing in her. She intuited his departure. Bastard, the throbbing in her cunt would make her writhe and cum, and every movement would inflict agony on her abused nipples. *****
- So, how is my slave?
He was crouched over her, naked now. There was singing in her ears where he'd removed the plugs, no gag any more. The cold words roused her from the doze. She didn't know whether she'd just fallen asleep. Or perhaps passed out, from the intensity of the pleasure-pain which had ripped through her firm tortured nipples, when she'd orgasmed to the vibe pulsing in her cunt. The toy was no longer in her. And the clamps were off her nipples.
- I'm... I'm fine Lord. I think...
- You must have had some orgasm. Your cunt contracted so much it expelled the vibe. Now, I have to ask you something. Do you want to remain bound and lacking sight and hearing when I punish you with the new toy? Or would you rather be unrestrained, in control of your senses?
- I'm your slave, Lord. That is your decision.
- I'm making it yours, and you will obey me in all things...
She heard the swish, felt explosion of pain on her cunt as the flogger bit into her. It was some time before she could speak.
- I need... to be restrained Lord. I'd hate to squirm so much in pain that it upsets your aim. I want to see and hear. Communicate.
- Thank you slave. That answer pleases your Lord. Here is his gift to you.
The eyemask came off and she watched as his head bent between her legs, laving and worshipping her sex. Then he moved up her body, his mouth fastened on hers, and his hot rigidity slid into her wetness.
- Always remember slavegirl, that your Lord loves you.
This was different now, her lover back with her, and she knew his want for her as his thrustfucks increased in speed and pressure, moving just as she needed it, lovesex becoming hardfuck, him losing himself in their love as he always did, till she knew she was just a body being fucked, being used by him. Her cunt clutched at him greedily and she felt herself rising to meet him, giving him her sex, her being, till the orgasm crashed through her.
She cried out as he left her then, unspent himself. Relief flooded her when she felt the ankle restraints fall off. He lifted her knees to her shoulders and the spear of need entered her arse, fucking her with an intensity she couldn't remember, using slavegirl to sate his lust. She was as lost in sexneed as he was, floating now, nothing but his cock taking her arse, his pelvic bone grinding her clit as he thrust into her being. When his teeth sank on her throat the spasms shook her, his spunk filling her, completing her.
He fell on her, sweatsoaked:
- Christ I worship you slavegirl. Maybe I won't punish you. The new flogger scares me to just look at it. Of course I tried it on myself, different strengths of blow, but couldn't bear to direct it anywhere sensitive.
- I want it on me Lord. I... I'm scared, but I want to feel it on me, giving me the pain I deserve.
- Jesus. Then you'll have it.
She knew his excitement from the cock twitching anew in her arse.
He withdrew from her then, and unfastened her wrists:
- Slavegirl must turn over now. Lord will start gently on his slave's back and arse.
She complied, wondering if she was sane. But she wanted to know, needed to understand how much she could take from him. He'd never taken her near her limits before. When she was secure on her belly, pillows pushing her arse in the air, she felt him lick down her spine. Lap at the soft hair in the small of her back. Part her arsecheeks roughly to tongue her there. He withdrew and she tensed.
But there was no pain, only the steel tips of the flogger tracing her shoulderblades, down her spine, over her sensitive arse. She shivered.
Then they struck, needles of pain on her arsecheeks, blows raining evenly, measured strokes. She gasped:
- More Lord, please.
- Oh yes slave, more indeed...
The pain intensified, sharp caress of thin leather flaying, deeper bites of metal on skin. Fuck...
- More Lord...
He moved to sit on her shoulderblades, and she felt his cock and balls squashed wetly against her spine as he leaned forward, arm swinging relentlessly, pain visiting her as she couldn't remember it. She could feel her blood flowing now from the tiny vicious wounds; no longer felt pain, just heat and need. Subspace. Fuck, this was madness, but...
- Slavegirl, my sweet?
He'd stooped the flogging immediately he felt the change in her. Moved off his slave. She'd passed out. He regarded her welted and lacerated arse, needlepoints flowing blood, trickles rather than rivers. Took photos, had to, she had to see, to know. Then he removed the restraints, fetched cold water to wipe her blood. Patted her dry, and applied lotion to reduce her pain. He gently removed the collar, then wiped her face with a cold wet towel. Was very relieved when her eyes fluttered open instantly.
- My sweet darling. The collar's off now. You're my lassie again.
- Ohh... I.. I was just resting. Hard work being a slavegirl.
She smiled weakly:
- Now give me the collar. Want it back on... it feels right... to be your slave. Lord. Please give it to me.
- Darling, you don't have the energy to raise your head, let alone collar yourself again. So no, request refused. Get some rest sweet. I'm going to stroke you back to sleep with my love, then leave while I get dinner organised. Dinner in bed tonight I think. Not too sure your poor arse will want to be sat on for a while.
He was preparing their dinner in the kitchen, Christy Moore's soft compelling voice filling the wee room. Didn't hear her enter, just noticed a new scent before he felt her kiss on the back of his neck. He turned.
She was wearing the slutdress she'd arrived in: was heavily made up. She almost never wore makeup, and seldom perfume. Now she looked and smelt as he imagined a whore might. Wearing her slavecollar. She fingered it, smiling:
- I told my Lord that he has a slave for the whole day. The day hasn't ended.
- Jesus fuck darling...
- Slave would prefer to eat at the table, if her Lord permits that. Slave examined her arse in the mirror before dressing. Slave's cunt is wet.
He was wearing his dressing gown. She knelt on the kitchen floor and took his cock in her mouth, but he pushed her away, getting back in mode after his surprise and excitement at the collared whore abased before him. Thinking fast.
- No. Not now. Go and open the curtains in the lounge. Then kneel on the dining table. Facing the window. Right in front of it.
He followed her from the kitchen, moved the reading light from his desk, set it on the table in front of his kneeling whore. Switched it on to illuminate her. He rolled a joint. Lit it and handed it to her. He watched her draw deeply on it. They passed the joint between them, eyes but no words. She knew that he understood exactly the effect it would have on her. She took a last draw and stubbed it out.