Abigail's Abduction

Abigail's Abduction (M/F, F/F, D/s, BDSM) by Calandria ================================================================================ Abigail's Abduction Chapter 1 ============================================================================

First a bit of background: ========================== People have been telling me, for as long as I can remember, and far too often, that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth.' Quite right, I suppose; Daddy is Something in the City' and I was brought up in a large Tudor house, set in wooded gardens, in rolling Sussex parkland. We always had a cook, a maid, a gardener and a chauffeur, and Mummy did charity work, if she did anything at all. (except, I grew to suspect, fuck the chauffeur) I was packed off to boarding school when my older brother James went up to Cambridge, and it was there that I learned more than the `three R's.' Sarah, who slept next to me in the dorm, showed me more about my body than all the dry lessons in human biology could begin to show me, and together we explored the delights of masturbation whenever the opportunity presented itself. I knew instinctively that sex was going to be a major influence in my life. During the long summer vacations, spent wandering about the house, the gardens and woods, I met Mark, the gardener's son, on leave from his first year in the army. I gave myself to him readily, none too anxious to retain my virginity. He returned to his ghastly duties on Salisbury Plain immediately after that first, rather unsatisfactory union, but I wore my new status with something akin to pride when I went back to school, and soon had a rather more fulfilling -- if brief - liaison with a young policeman who came to lecture us on traffic safety. I was recruited into Daddy's company, and hated it roundly for two years --

the boredom, the hours, the false people -- in short, it wasn't for me. I decided to go to university, and Daddy was a gem, paying all my bills as I progressed to a modest degree in economics at Sheffield. I won't bore you with details of the sexual encounters I had -- suffice to say there were several, of little importance. When I finished there, I was promised a nice job in Paris, but a year on. There was nothing for it but to do what a lot of young people (mostly a bit younger than my 22 years) do, backpack around for a while. Australia came first, and a dalliance (nice, old-fashioned word, that) with a muscular guy who, if he wasn't called Bruce, should have been. There was, I was starting to realize, something missing from my life, something I couldn't put my finger on. The sex was fine, but I found myself faking orgasms too often -- not really getting out of these affairs what I felt I ought to be. Was there something wrong with me? I really didn't know. But I left Australia, when Melbourne got too cold, and flew to the USA, to have a look at the Big Apple -- that's where this story has its true beginning......

Although Daddy continued to be generous, Manhattan hotels weren't for me, and I found a nice enough small hotel in Brooklyn, just a few minutes on the subway from the fleshpots of Times Square. A week into my stay, having done most of the touristy things, I was mooching around Greenwich Village, trying to decide whether I really wanted another coffee or not, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Looking around, I found myself face-to-face with my old school friend, Sarah. I could scarcely believe it, and we talked over two or three coffees and a long lunch. She told me she was sharing a fourth floor walk-up in the Village with three more girls. Suit you!' I remarked. Catty!, she rejoined, but part true -- I go both ways these days, darling, and you?' I didn't know how to reply. Straight, I suppose,' I said, hesitantly. You don't sound too sure.' It's just that....no, it's silly really.' Hey, I'm Sarah, remember, your old friend!' I was going to say that there's something missing from my life, and I can 't begin to tell you what.' A woman's touch?' she suggested. No, I don't think it's that.' She looked a trifle crestfallen, so I elaborated: It's not that I couldn't respond to...to another woman -- I'm sure I could, but there's more. Oh, I can't explain.' She laid a long-nailed hand on mine, and said softly, Then don't try, darling. Look, we're going to a party in Queen's tomorrow night -- please come!' I don't know,' I said lamely. There'll be lots of hunky guys there,' she said. You've talked me into it, but what to wear?' None of your backpackers' gear,' she replied, strictly sexy, eh?' But I've only got jeans and shorts and stuff.' Then go cane your credit card,' she said. Before we parted, I gave her the address of my hotel, and she told me she' d get a guy called Ben to collect me there at eight the next evening. We parted with a kiss. Next morning I set out to Hiy Fifth Avenue in a big way, and, after a lot of trying on, plumped for a backless mid-blue mini-dress in a material that looked and felt like silk, but wasn't. I tried it on in the cubicle with my bra on, and realized it would look quite different when I wore it for real, as there was no way I could wear a bra under it. Whilst musing on that, I took a good look at myself in the big mirror. A raddled backpacker looked back, hair like rats' tails, make-up so-so..... I decided there and then on the next punishment for my credit card, and found a ruinously expensive beauty salon just a few doors away. With a silent thanks to Daddy, I slipped inside and booked a full treatment package' for that afternoon. I filled in the intervening time buying shoes (strappy stilettos, suitable for a party) and some costume jewelry, as well as some make-up items I had been neglecting for months. When the time came for my appointment, I was almost nervous, but the pretty young assistants set me at ease, and I was soon enjoying being pampered. They shampooed, cut and styled my long black hair so that I hardly recognized the glossy mane I saw in the mirror, praised my long eyelashes, to me I needed no false ones, and made them up expertly. Turning their attention to my long-neglected nails, they tutted a little, then suggested a set of porcelain ones. I was soon fitted up with awkwardly long, silver-glossed nails, which were going to take some getting used to. After treating my skin to a long, lingering massage with scented oils, I certainly didn't begrudge the cost. Back in my hotel room, I rested until an hour before the appointed hour, then started to get ready. I stripped off my customary jeans and tee shirt, bra and panties, and took a long hard look in the mirror. My half-Italian mother's legacy of jet-black hair and big brown eyes were my best features, I thought, but the exercise I had been putting myself through, trudging around with a massive rucksack, had hardened my already lean body, so that what I saw was a flat stomach, firm breasts with nice, puffy nipples -- which always brought memories of Sarah sucking on them and muttering about how nice they were -- and a tight but nicely rounded arse. Before I dressed I took a razor to my black bush, and trimmed it back to the nice little triangle I had kept it to when I had been used to wearing my bikini in Aussie. You'll do, girl,' I said, to the mirror, some lucky bastard may get this view -- who knows?' But the truth was that I wasn't anticipating the usual selection of chat-up lines, the inevitable groping, awkward fumbling undressing, the equally inevitable premature ejaculation, with any pleasure. When I dressed in the new mini-dress, however, I took narcissistic pleasure in walking towards my wardrobe mirror, and watching how my breasts jiggled ever so slightly under the silky material, the jut of my nipples obvious through the soft material. I wore nothing under the dress but a pair of white silk panties, and stepped into my new stilettos, clipped a little gold anklet I had bought around one slim ankle, and put in a pair of large gold hoop ear-rings. I felt ready. When I went down to the hotel's reception to await my lift, the middle-aged receptionist, who had never before seen me in anything other than a pair of jeans, did a double take, and I smiled sweetly at him. Ben turned out to be a slightly overweight young man with thick spectacles and a crew-cut, but he seemed pleasant enough, and kept glancing sideways at me as I sat beside him in his Taurus. It only took us about forty minutes to negotiate the heavy city traffic and arrive in front of a big, clapboard house, from which music could be heard issuing long before we drew up in a line of cars. A big room had been cleared of furniture, and was already full of people, so early in the evening, though nobody was yet dancing. I caught sight of Sarah, dressed in a long, shimmering gold sheath, with spaghetti-straps, so low-cut that her nipples were only just covered. Her blonde hair was swirled up on top of her head in an elegant style, making her neck look long and swan-like. You look lovely, darling,' I told her. So do you....what a transformation!' she replied, and started to introduce me to more people than I could hope to remember. We drank from the free bar, and, when everybody started to dance, as if some secret message had been passed and understood, I danced too -- with a variety of partners. The noise level being high, and the dancing of the disco variety, my partners didn't seem to matter all that much. But then, the music was interrupted and somebody made an unintelligible announcement. I asked Sarah what it was all about, and she told me that we were having a half-hour break for food. I was grateful, as my stomach had started to rumble. As I ate the usual party fare, I looked around at the assembled gathering, and decided that there was absolutely nobody there that I fancied in the least, except possibly Sarah, which made me grin to myself. Just then, though, I turned around, balancing a paper plate with a portion of quiche, intent upon heading for the bar to get myself another glass of merlot, and found my way blocked by the tall form of a guy I hadn't seen before, wearing an immaculate cream linen suit and an open-necked black shirt.

He must have been about forty five. There was a slightly sardonic half-smile on his aristocratic face, as he looked me up and down, with unashamed curiosity. And to whom to you belong?' he asked. I thought it a very odd question, and bridled somewhat at its lack of political correctness. To myself,' I replied, and if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get a drink.' Allow me,' he said, merlot, isn't it?' Yes, please,' I replied, wondering immediately why on earth I had let this stranger get me a drink, then deciding that it didn't matter anyway. I watched him walking back with my drink and his, perhaps a gin and tonic, or a vodka, I thought. He was really very handsome, greying hair slightly longer than was fashionable, and a lithe grace about his walk which promised a still-hard, athletic body. When he was beside me, handing me my drink, he said, I was being slightly disingenuous. I already know who you are, Abigail.' I looked up at him in surprise, and found his grey eyes regarding me intently. Who...?' I began. Your friend Sarah has told me about you.' Why would she do that?' I wanted to know, more than a little angry that Sarah had been discussing me with a complete stranger. She thought you would interest me,' he said. And do I?' I asked, a trifle more coquettishly than I had intended. Your odd mixture of evident good breeding and a synthetic dress is fascinating,' he said, tweaking the hem of my dress between finger and thumb as he did so. I made to pull away from him, feeling insulted, and he laughed, taking my arm lightly but firmly. Stay and have a drink with me, at least. I have a feeling you are much more interesting than most of the gathering here.' He indicated the swarm of people now starting to dance again as the music obliged him to raise his voice. `I think we can go and sit out on the terrace --

it isn't cold.' Meekly I followed him out through double doors, and we sat and watched night fall as I found myself relating my trip around Australia to this stranger, without finding out anything about him. When, finally, I asked him his name, he said, You can call me Bruno, for the time being. Later, we shall have to see.' I thought that a very odd answer. Would you like to dance?' I asked him, much later. No,' he said, I believe I should like to take you to my home now, where we may enjoy some privacy.' My God, Abigail, I thought, as I stood in the driveway waiting for Bruno to get his car, what is all this about? I had agreed to go to the home of a perfect stranger, old enough to be my father, with a slight foreign accent, and a direct, even insulting manner. No come for coffee' even -- no -- we may enjoy some privacy' -- shit! After a few moments, a flaming red Ferrari drew up, and the passenger door was flung open for me. I was impressed, and then by his driving skills as we hurtled away from Queens, past JFK, and out, I thought onto Long Island, though my local knowledge was very limited. I had imagined he would live nearby, but we drove fast for more than an hour, arriving in an area of large suburban mansions, set in wooded gardens. After driving in concentrated silence for the entire journey, Bruno touched a remote control console, and pair of huge iron gates opened onto a long gravel drive. At its end, we pulled up on a circular space in front of a well-lit brick-built house, not much smaller than my father's, with at least six windows on each of its two stories, flanking a big, pillared portico. He got out, and came around to open my door and hand me out of the low car, a maneuver which I tried to accomplish as gracefully as possible. He led me up the steps and opened a big, varnished door. Waiting beside it, standing at a respectful distance, was a very pretty girl, with short hai r as black as mine, wearing a short dark blue pleated skirt, embroidered peasant blouse, fishnet hose and high heels. Good evening, Sir,' she said to Bruno, and he nodded perfunctorily to her, without making any introduction. Taking my arm, he led me through into a large, comfortable-seeming lounge, with at least four sofas. Ana, fetch us a bottle of the Merlot 76, will you?' he called, and gestured for me to sit down. No sooner had I done so than the maid had returned with a silver tray, two glasses, a plate of assorted nibbles, and an open bottle of wine. Bruno sat beside me and poured, then raised his glass and waited until I mirrored his action. When I did, and clinked mine to his, he said, I think we may drink to the start of a new direction in your young life, my dear.' I looked at him in surprise, not even beginning to know what he meant. His grey eyes had a hypnotic quality, and I was seized with an insuperable desire to kiss him. I even felt wetness starting to build between my legs. I put my glass down on the coffee table, having taken only one sip of the smooth liquid, and, my lips slightly parted, leaned towards him, but he swayed back as if in rejection, and said, No, my dear, your lips are too precious for mine.' Gently, he put one hand to my head , whilst, with the other, he deftly unzipped his fly. He must have been wearing no underpants, because an impressive shaft sprang proudly erect, into his hand. Rounding my lips, I fell upon it, and took his crown softly into my mouth, teasing the very tip with my tongue, taking a tiny drop of pre-cum away, and looking up into his eyes as I did so. His tool seemed to swell and grow, pulsing as I licked its whole length, massaging his balls with my hand, and when I finally allowed him to plunge his great length deep, deep, into my throat, he groaned and arched his back, quivering with passion as he pumped his cock hard into my mouth. I sucked in a way no-one had ever taught me, and reaching down below his balls as I did so, I found his arsehole, and thrust my forefinger deep into it. He came in huge, hot gushes, right into the depths of my throat, and I swallowed every salty drop, then licked him clean. He let me do it in silence, then, without even tucking himself away, he picked up his glass and took a deep draught, then called, Ana!' She came clicking in on her high heels, seeming to ignore completely the sight of his flaccid cock, which lay there in the opening of his trousers, to my embarrassment, but seemingly not his. Did you do as I asked?' he queried. Yes, sir,' she said. Then kindly take Abigail to her room, will you?' I couldn't believe what I was hearing. But...but...I'm not staying here!'

I protested, I have a hotel room -- I must go, Bruno, please take me!' Your hotel has been notified,' he said, and a room has been made ready for you. I'm sure it will be to your liking.' But...I can't possibly stay here,' I insisted. He fixed me with those grey eyes again, which bored right into me, saw into my very soul, Yes you can,' he said, sleep well, and tomorrow we'll talk. Now go with Ana.' Obediently, I followed the maid up a broad carpeted staircase, to a polished wood corridor, and into one of the many rooms which led off it. She left me alone in the room as soon as she had shown me where the light switches were. It was beautifully furnished, with a big double bed, a couch and a dressing table, and there were mirror-fronted wardrobes, which seemed to be full of someone's clothes. There was an en-suite bathroom, which appeared to contain all manner of toiletries and cosmetics. I raised the shutters and tried to look out of the window, but all was darkness, so I gave up the attempt, and decided that I had had enough for one day. It was almost two o' clock and time for bed. When I turned to the bed, I found a long silk nightdress and negligee, lace-trimmed and luxurious, lying across it. They appeared to be for my use, so I undressed and slipped into the nightie, then climbed in between satin sheets and slept immediately -- a dreamless sleep, which lasted until sun found chinks in the shutters. I glanced at my watch -- it was nine-thirty -- shit! An instant realization of my situation hit me and I slipped on the negligee, intent on going in search of Bruno, to put an end to this nonsense. The door was locked! I was locked in! What was going on? No answer was to be found by looking out of the window, which looked out over empty woodland, but just then a key turned in the lock, and in came Ana, with a tray of coffee and hot rolls, which she placed on the dressing table. Why was the door locked?' I demanded, what the fuck is going on?' You can ask the Master yourself,' she said, and left, almost at a run, leaving the door ajar, but, before I could follow her, Bruno was stood in the doorway. Fuck, I fancied him! He stood there in a paisley dressing gown, and as I faced him, my knees turned to jelly, and the protest that was about to spout from my lips died a horrible death, in the face of this fascinating figure of a man, unlike anyone I had ever met. Sit down and drink your coffee before it gets cold,' he said, and I'm sure you're hungry. While you have breakfast, I'd like to put a few things to you.' Did you need to lock me in to talk to me?' I managed to ask. He smiled. I needed to be sure of your security, my dear,' he said smoothly, and passed it off as a matter of no importance, as I tucked into a delicious fresh roll and drank deeply of the freshly-ground coffee. Now,' he said, settling himself on the arm of the couch, I should like you to listen to what I have to propose. Please do not interrupt -- you may ask questions when I have finished.' He looked at me hard to see if I was attending well, and, satisfied, continued: Our mutual friend Sarah Beaumont, whom you may not know practices as a psychologist here in New York, has directed you to me, to answer both of our needs, as she sees them. She has identified you as a submissive, and knows I have need of one, since my last one met with a tragic accident last year.' I could scarcely believe what I was hearing. Me, a submissive -- and Sarah, my so-called friend, discussing me with strangers. I stifled a protest, remembering what he had said about interruptions. He saw my mouth opening and closing, and held up his hand. You must search your mind, Abigail, and see if it isn't true that your real wish is to be dominated, to be humiliated, even tortured, by your master. Dwell, if you would, for one moment, on an image. This image is of you, you, Abigail, tied naked to a post, being whipped, flogged cruelly, raising red welts on your pale flesh. What effect does that image have on you?' I was unaware of the dichotomy of my response. It's revolting,' I said, but my voice wavered, and as he had painted the picture in words, my mouth had fallen open, and I had squirmed, my legs rubbing together unbidden as moisture welled up in my pussy. Right,' he continued, as if I hadn't commented, my proposal is simple enough. You stay here with me as my slave. You will have no onerous duties, as all housework is carried out by Ana and another girl you haven't yet met, Clara. You must decide now whether you will accept my conditions or not. If not, you are, of course, free to leave. If you elect to stay, you will become effectively my possession, for a minimum period of six months.' But what are your conditions?' I asked. I have them written down here. Please read and, when you have done so and are prepared to either sign or reject them, ring and call for Ana.' He indicated a bell-push I hadn't seen before, beside the window, passed me a typewritten sheet and a pen, and left me with it, more than a little shocked. I read:-

CONDITIONS FOR ABIGAIL ====================== 1. You will be the possession of the Master, who will do with you as he pleases, loaning you to whomsoever he wishes, whenever he wishes. 2. You will always address him as Master' or Sir' and never look directly into his face unless so instructed. 3. Your body must be kept completely devoid of hair at all times. 4. You will wear only the clothing which is provided in your room. 5. When the Master returns home from any journey, you will greet him at once dressed in a transparent gown, your ankles shackled. 6. You will undergo `special training' to enlarge your anal passage and ensure your Master's pleasure. 7. You will consent to be whipped at least twice a week, at your Master's request. 8. Your Master may wish to have your body permanently marked in some way. You will consent to this.

I agree to the above conditions, signed:.........................................(Abigail Trent)

I read it through twice and shook my head in disbelief. Wow! What was I letting myself in for? But then, I realized I was really going to sign! I was.

The truth was, I was damp again just reading the conditions. I scrawled my

signature and rang for Ana, who quickly appeared, smiled at me knowingly and scurried off with the paper. Minutes later she was back, and said, Come on, I've got to help prepare you for the Master.' She pulled me gently into the bathroom, and helped me off with my negligee and nightdress, then told me to take out the ear-rings I still wore from last night. She got the shower running for me and I climbed into the cubicle to enjoy the hot jets playing all over me, only to find that Ana had suddenly joined me and was soaping me thoroughly, her nice, tight young body slippery against me. It was a lovely feeling. I could get used to this,' I told her. Mmmm,' she replied, rubbing her firm breasts against my back, I'm glad you consented to stay, though I'll hate to see you whipped.' Is it so bad?' I asked. He'll hurt you,' she said, but maybe that's what you want?' Maybe,' I agreed. We left it at that -- I really didn't know what I'd let myself in for, and preferred not to think about it. I only knew that the thought of life as a slave' to Bruno excited me beyond belief. I've got instructions to shave you,' Ana was saying, as I dried myself, and I submitted meekly enough as she lathered my pubes, while I sat on a plastic stool, and took infinite care in taking off every vestige of hair, asking me to lift my legs up so that she could work her way all around my labia, right back through my crack to my anus, finally removing all the tiny hairs that grew around my little puckered arsehole. As she did so, she poked the tip of her finger into the very start of my anus, and said, My God, Abigail, you're so tight -- you're an ass-virgin, right?' I've never had anal sex, if that's what you mean,' I said, stuffily -- I knew very well what she meant. I'll get you a little plug, if you like,' she said, it'll make it better later.' I nodded yes, while Ana smoothed oil around my pussy and on my mons. It actually felt rather nice to be clean-shaven, I had to admit, but I knew I should have to maintain myself like that, as any growth of stubble would be intolerable. Ana wanted to show me my wardrobe, and I let her get dressed while I dried my hair. I was staggered by the quantity and variety of clothes all neatly arrayed on hangers -- evening gowns at one end, many of which appeared to be at least partly transparent, whilst at the other end were day-outfits, dresses, skirts and blouses. Below were shoes, all of them with ultra-high heels. I opened a big drawer, and found several corsets and garter belts, together with packets containing stockings. There were also two bras, both platform types, designed to leave nipples exposed. There are no panties,' said Ana, because they are prohibited -- for us too!' To emphasize the point, she lifted her short skirt, and I saw that she was, indeed, naked under it. I've been instructed to dress you now,' Ana said, the Master wants to take you out to lunch.' I was faintly amused at the idea of being dressed' -- I had always managed perfectly well by myself -- but didn't have much option now that I had signed, so let Ana pick out the clothing and accessories I was to wear. The Master particularly asked that you wear a corset today,' she said, and had me stand in front of the mirror and button a whaleboned black corset up the front. It fit very snugly, my breasts resting on top of the lacy frill which formed its upper edge, its bottom cut high in the back, so that my buttocks were totally exposed, long garter straps hanging down my legs. But just when I thought it was a comfortable fit, Ana came around behind me and tugged hard on the laces which tightened the garment fiercely around me, cinching my waist to tiny proportions, and causing me to gasp out loud as she tied it off. The tightness also had the effect of thrusting out my buttocks and pushing up my small breasts. Ana had found me a long sleeved black nylon blouse, which buttoned up the back, and was completely transparent, so that my nipples could just be seen as they poked through the lace at the to of my corset. She rolled a pair of seamed black stockings up my slender legs, and had me step into a very tight, knee-length satin skirt, which so restricted my movements that I had difficulty in walking. She completed my outfit with a pair of extremely high patent leather heels, and helped me put in some very long, heavy silver ear-rings. Your first time in restraint clothes?' asked Ana. Yes,' I replied. You look nice,' she said, come on!' She led me downstairs -- I was mincing along in my extra-tight skirt, a touch uncertain on the heels too, so that I practically ran into Bruno in the entrance hall, where he was waiting for me. Oh,' I said, and he smiled as he looked me up and down. Very nice,' he said, just one more thing, for now.' He took from the pocket of his velvet jacket a beautiful, diamante-studded silver collar, with a thick silver ring set in it, and put it around my neck, fastening it at the back. It was a perfect fit. That is a symbol of my ownership of you, my dear, and you may not remove it at any time, is that understood?' Yes,' I replied. Yes, master,' he corrected. Yes, master.' Right,' he said, now we're going to lunch; come along.' He led me outside, and got into a different car, a big SUV. Bruno explained: Although I can be cruel, as you will no doubt discover, I am also considerate, and I thought the Ferrari would be uncomfortable for you, dressed as you are.' Thank you, Master,' I said, humbly. He drove for no more than ten minutes and we pulled up outside a Country Club, parking alongside an array of expensive cars. Again the perfect gentleman, he helped me out, and escorted me in to the stately entrance, where a maitre d' met us an led us to a table, where another couple was already installed. A more ill-assorted pair it would have been hard to find. She might have been a fashion model, blonde and willowy, with an aristocratic air, wearing a silk dress which gave an ample display of her perfect cleavage. He was like the missing link' -- hairy to the point of repulsiveness, overweight and altogether gross -- and, when he spoke, his voice grated on me horribly. A more revolting human being I had yet to meet. This is Marcus, and his wife Jane,' said Bruno, Jane likes me to fuck her from time to time, don't you, darling?' Yes, you ravishing man,' said Jane, and Marcus doesn't mind, if you lend him your latest slave. Who is this lovely creature, may I ask?' This is Abigail,' he said, and I haven't yet had time to train her, so you'll need to be careful with her, Marcus.' Marcus laughed, a horrible, guttural chortle, and when he kissed my cheek, his ample black stubble grazed my flesh repulsively. We all sat down to a delicious meal, spoiled for me not only by the acute discomfort I was feeling from the restriction of my clothing, but by the feel of the gorilla Marcus' eyes boring into me, greedily taking in my nipples, which peeked coquettishly through the lace top of my corset. I was also conscious that Bruno was busily fondling Jane under the tablecloth, and drawing faint gasps from her as his hand reached the top of her slender thigh. When we had finished, we were invited to Marcus' service apartment, which was on the premises of the club itself, and the last word in luxury. We were soon installed in a huge lounge, Bruno and Jane holding hands on a long low couch, whilst I tried to shrink from our host on a big sofa, and get as far away as possible. When a maid had brought us drinks, however, Bruno called to me; Behave yourself, Abigail -- do you think I have brought you here to play games? Take your skirt off -- now!' His tone brooked no disagreement, so I stood up, and unzipped my skirt, and wriggled out of it, stepping out of the satin pool it made on the parquet floor, and feeling more naked than I had ever felt in my life, displaying my shaven pubis in front of not only my new master, but these two strangers. And I refused to believe that the hirsute brute sat watching me intently was actually going to fuck me. What happened next surprised me. Jane, whose lovely breasts were now uncovered, as Bruno was kneading them, teasing her nipples to erection, said to me, Take off your blouse, then sit back on the sofa, darling, will you? I' d like to see you masturbate.' I looked at her for a moment, then unfastened my blouse and slipped it off. I was now naked except for the corset, stockings and heels. I did as she said, but hesitated before letting my hands go to work in my pussy. What are you waiting for?' asked Bruno, you heard the lady!' Yes, sir!' I said, and spreading my labia with two fingers of one hand, I sought my clitoris with the other, the unaccustomed length of my nails grazing it into life and causing me to suck in breath sharply. As my clit burgeoned and grew, I lost myself, as I always did when I masturbated, and soon

was plunging two fingers deep into my wet cunt, already moist before I started, after the excitement of the restraint clothing and the nearness of my master. My breath now came in ragged gusts, as I neared a throbbing climax, and I saw that Bruno was now kneeling on the floor between Jane's legs, his cock -- MY cock! -- spearing her arsehole, whilst Marcus had dropped to his knees in front of me and watched my fingers working at close quarters as I was finally overcome by a shuddering orgasm, and squirted my vaginal fluid liberally over him, causing him to laugh his horrid, gurgling laugh. If I had thought I should have time to lay back and recover, I needed to revise my thoughts, as I realized to my horror that Marcus had his trousers open, and, in his hairy hand, he held the biggest prick in creation! It must have been close to a foot long, and as thick as my wrist, sprouting from a dense forest of black hair which covered a pair of prodigious balls. He shoved me back on the sofa, clambered up between my legs, and I felt my poor cunt being stretched as if I were having a baby in reverse. Somehow he got the dreadful shaft inside me, and I screamed with the pain, feeling sure he as tearing me as he pounded, animal roars coming from down in his throat. Thankfully he couldn't last long, and stiffened suddenly as he roared even louder, and released a flow like hot volcanic lava, which seemed to fill me to bursting. I squirmed out from under him as he laughed his awful laugh once again. On the way home, Bruno saw I was crying, stopped the car, and cradled me in his arms. Just a start to your training, my dear,' he said, and you did well.' But he was so horrible!' I wailed I'll overlook the fact that you are talking about my friend, Abigail,' he said, just bear in mind that he spared your anus -- for that you should be grateful.' But...but, Br..er...Master, I couldn't take him there, not possibly!' I know, my dear, and I've told Ana to start work on you this very afternoon.' But, Master, won't it hurt terribly?' No, only a little at first, but then you will know true pleasure, and give me much pleasure too.' We were drawing up outside the house by this time, and Bruno dismissed me: Go now, and sleep for a while. I'll send Ana to you in a couple of hours. ' It was a blessed relief to shed all my restrictive clothes, and climb naked into bed, my pussy till throbbing from the pounding it had had from Marcus ' enormous tool. What seemed like two minutes later, Ana woke me up from a deep sleep. I had been dreading the moment, my anus always a sensitive spot, and I had never really understood why people enjoyed anal sex. But I had to be resigned to this, I knew, and tried to steel myself when Ana showed me the plug she had brought for me. It was a smooth black plastic cone, the size, I supposed, of a small carrot, with a wide square flange at the wide end, whose width I could scarcely believe would fit where she proposed to put it. Ana, though, was sweet, and showed me how she was smearing the plug liberally from a tube of KY jelly, before telling me to get onto my knees and spread my cheeks as wide as I could. My position felt terribly vulnerable as Ana now smeared some more jelly around my little puckered hole, tutting, presumably at its tiny dimension. I'm going to hurt you a little now, Abigail, but you know I have to, don' t you?' she said, and I nodded. She prodded tentatively at my anus with the greasy tip of the plug, and wriggled it gently around until it had worked its way just a few centimeters into the very portals of my back passage. Then she pushed harder, and I grunted as the increased width of the cone forced its way into me and brought the first tears to my eyes. Oh, Ana, that hurts!' I complained, then she gave me all the more reason for complaint as she quite suddenly thrust the whole length of the terrible plug in, in, past my protesting sphincter, and I moaned loudly as an altogether new sensation wracked my body -- and it wasn't all pain. Some pleasure surprisingly seemed to mingle in with the agony the plug brought as it invaded my velvet passage, and Ana kissed me deeply, knowing what was happening to me. You see, it's not all bad, is it?' she said. It fucking hurts,' I said tearfully, but she knew, she knew. We lay together for some time, and Ana explained that Bruno wanted me to wear the plug full time for at least two days, when it would have to be changed for a bigger one, or, she said, maybe a set of balls.' I asked Ana what her relationship with Bruno was, and she told me she was merely a servant, like Clara, who I still hadn't met, and not a slave. But doesn't he fuck you?' I asked her. Oh yes, sometimes,' she said, and Clara to, but we are never punished and never taken out with him, and we are always in uniform. You will have lots more privileges.' I wasn't so sure -- it just seemed such a totally unreal situation into which I had blundered, that I felt like some sort of erotic Alice.' Feeling very awkward with the great plug in my arsehole, I showered, brushed my hair, and made up carefully, then spent a long time selecting a gown for dinner. After much deliberation, I chose a long sheath of black lace, with long sleeves, which would have covered me modestly had it not been completely transparent. Before I slipped into it, I took time to rouge my nipples, so that they would be seen through the lace, and hung a heavy silver chain loosely about my waist. That too could be seen clearly through the flimsy material. I still hadn't got used to my shaven pubes, and felt doubly naked as I stepped into extra-high stilettos and tottered downstairs to dinner. I was desperate to make a good impression on my Master now -- since my arrival, he had allowed me the privilege of giving him a blow-job; meanwhile he had fucked the lovely Jane right in front of me, and I had learned that he was not averse to shagging the servants, either. But when I entered the dining room, dressed in a formal white jacket and black tie, I knew I wanted him, wanted his body, wanted him to do with me whatever he wanted -- he could kill me if he so pleased. As I stood, mesmerized by his elegance, and him unaware of my presence, a tall jet-black girl with long, straightened hair came in and started laying the table, her short uniform skirt riding up so that the dusky flesh above her snow-white stockings was visible. Bruno turned to her, took two strides towards her, and fetched her a playful slap on the arse. Oh, sir!' she said, and skipped out of his reach. It was then that he realized that I had appeared, and started almost guiltily. Ah, Abigail, my dear, you look quite stunning. You must meet Clara, who would love to change places with you -- wouldn't you, Clara?' he teased the black girl. Oh yes, sir,' she said. Well, we'll just have to see. One day I may need another slave -- who knows? Now go and get us some dinner, there's a good girl!' He turned to me, I like to keep my servants in hopeful anticipation. It keeps them on their toes. Now how does your plug feel?' He changed the subject and asked me such a delicate question as easily as if he were enquiring after a cut finger, and I colored up as I told him that it had hurt a bit, but that I could stand it. We dined companionably, like man and wife, I thought, until, as we took coffee, Bruno turned to me and said, I've given you an easy introduction today, my dear, but your appearance excites me, and you have signed my document, which tells me that you are prepared for what I have in store for you. I have before me an image of you bound and in pain -- pleasures which I believe you are eager to share with me, is that not so?' You can do with me as you please, Master,' I told him. I could sense that he was enjoying the anticipation of what he planned to do to me already, and, to be honest, moisture was welling up in my pussy as I saw myself in chains, and, above all, being whipped like the slave-girl I had really become. He came round my chair, took my head gently in his hands and kissed me, with infinite tenderness', letting my tongue flirt with his, before pulling away, and calling, Clara!' The black girl came trotting in on her heels, and gave a respectful little curtsy. Clara,' said Bruno, show Abigail your piercings, please!' The lovely negress took a couple of paces, stood before me, and put her tongue out, revealing a decorative silver stud, not the usual bar-bell, but a pretty knob sat flush on top of her tongue. That's nice,' I said, but she hadn't finished. She raised her short skirt, showing a smoothly-shaven pubis, below which there sat a silver ring with two links of chain and a little set stone dangling prettily from it. I could see that the ring was threaded through a piercing in her clitoris-hood. Thank you, Clara,' said Bruno, I should like you to take Abigail to be done later this week, please.' So that's what you meant by marking, sir?' I asked. Well no, not exactly,' he said, but that's for later.' I knew not to pursue the matter further, and I loved the idea of being pierced -- had always wanted to have it done, but never plucked up the courage, no the decision was being made for me! Bruno was speaking again: Now, my dear, it's been a long day. I think you need to rest. Go and sleep. After breakfast, Ana will prepare you and bring you to me.' Alone in my room, I put on a short silk slip, which seemed to caress my body, in its site of anticipation, and sliding between the satin sheets, I masturbated myself to sleep, images of Bruno, pounding the arsehole of the beautiful Jane, while I was pinned down by her brutish husband, his enormous cock threatening to split me apart, then more imaginary scenes, of myself, suspended by my wrists, being flayed by medieval monks, filled my head, and merged into dreams. When I awoke, it was still dark, and I was soaked, with

sweat and my vaginal secretions. I got up and showered, went back to bed and slept soundly. The next thing I knew, sun was streaming into my room, and Ana stood there with my breakfast tray. I drank my coffee gratefully, but picked at the croissants, full of nervous excitement, and was shaking with it when Ana returned, and took the tray from me. You're very nervous,' she observed, a bit superfluously. I'm excited,' I told her, and she looked at me with an expression I couldn't read. Was it disbelief, or envy, or something else? While I was making up, Ana fussed around, selecting this and that, and then came and put my hair up in a French twist. She next fitted me with pretty ankle and wrist restraints, broad bands of silver and diamante, each with a

large stout ring set into it, matching my collar, which I wore permanently. They all fitted snugly. She gave me a long white transparent nylon negligee to wear, with long, voluminous sleeves and a cord at the waist. You will always wear this when you are to be punished,' she told me, the Master likes ritual.' Ana clipped foot-long lengths of steel chain between my ankles and wrists Today, you are to go barefoot,' she said, and completed the job by clicking a leash into my collar ring. Come on,' she said, you're ready,' and led me out, along the corridor, and down to a room I had never seen before. This is the library,' she said, the Master's private place.' I looked around. It was a large, rather gloomy room, and cold. I shuddered when I saw the immense wooden pillars that held up the gallery floor at the far end, for into them were set ring-bolts, with chains dangling from them, and more chains hung from the soffit of the gallery itself. On racks on the wall behind were whip and canes of several kinds, all neatly arrayed. We were alone there, but not for long, because the door opened a minute later, and in walked Bruno, wearing a wine-red dressing gown. Good morning, my dear,' he said, as if we were going shopping or something. He looked me up and down, and taking my lead from Ana, led me to a point below the gallery, where he unclipped my leash, removed the chain from my wrists, and told me to take off my negligee. I did so, and stood there, feeling cold, naked and barefoot on the tiled floor, my ankles still shackled. He took my wrists and, lifting them above my head, clipped them deftly together, to a snap-link on the end of a chain which hung below the gallery. He walked slowly around me, the tension building within me, my whole body screaming -- if you're going to whip me, get on with it!' But he was in no hurry. I want to do some things to you before I whip you, Abigail,' he said, and took from the pocket of his dressing gown two little silver clamps, connected by a length of chain, I had never seen before. These are nipple clamps,' he said, and I want you to get used to wearing them sometimes. I think they will hurt quite a lot.' I watched, wide-eyed, as he opened up the clamps, then slipped them onto my nipples, already distended by the cold. Then he tightened them down hard and I gasped at the sudden pain which shot through my breasts as the blood supply was cut off. He hung a silver weight on the connecting chain, and the pain grew worse, but my nipples were always sensitive, and the pain had a sexual component, not unlike the pain I was getting used to from the butt-plug which now felt much more comfortable in my rectum. But Bruno hadn't finished with his fiendish ideas, and whilst he was turned away from me, he had taken a small box from his pocket. Now he opened it up, and I saw it contained several long needles, with plastic handles, like hat-pins. He looked into my eyes, and taking one of the needles out of the box, he pierced the tender flesh just above my right breast with it -- it was agony, and I yelped with pain. He repeated this twice more around my breasts, once just above the nipple, which hurt terribly, then treated me to two more in my buttocks. Ana, meantime, had been stood nearby, an inscrutable expression on her face, and I couldn't help wondering what was going through her mind. But the time had apparently come for my whipping, and Bruno walked slowly around behind me, and whispered in my ear, I'm going to whip you now, you little slut. It's what you want, isn't it?' Yes, Master,' I whispered. Louder!' he rapped, and you must ask me for it!' Please whip me, Master,' I said. One thing,' he said, I'm going to use the riding crop on you. You will not cum until I give you my permission. Is that understood?' I looked at him, not knowing if he seriously thought I was going to have an orgasm while being whipped. Is that understood?' he repeated, And don't look directly at your Master -- you will get extra strokes for that.' I heard him say something to Ana, which didn't sound very friendly, then he strode over to the racks on the wall and was back at once with a long, leather crop. I closed my eyes, and suddenly thought -- My God, all my young life so far has been leading up to this! It's what I'd always longed for -- a man to dominate, humiliate and even torture me. Hurt me, please! I heard the crop whistle through the air, then felt the first awful, stinging pain as its leather thong bit into my pale flesh just above my shoulder blades. I gritted my teeth and remained silent, but couldn't suppress a small oh' at the second vicious stroke, a fraction lower. That's lovely,' said Bruno, you're going to have some very pretty welts. I can't wait to whip you with the singletail.' He laid into me again and again, each time lower, an expert at his trade, and I squirmed and writhed in my bonds as he struck, but managed not to cry out. When he reached my lower back, he felt my crack with his free hand. You're very wet, you little slut,' he said, I do believe you're enjoying this.' When I didn't reply, he said sharply, Are you?' I couldn't trust myself to speak, and merely nodded dumbly. Four across your buttocks, then you can cum,' he said, and when I didn't respond, he said, did you hear?' Yes Master, thank you Master.' He returned to his labor, and fetched me four ever sharper, awful strokes on my tender arse, but the juices that had built up in me were demanding release, and it took every bit of self-control I had to hold off my shattering

orgasm until I had counted the fourth cruel stroke, then I screamed as the

flood-gates burst and I squirted spectacularly, some of it hitting my Master as he returned the crop to its rack. Ana was giggling, off to one side, and, fortunately, Bruno saw the funny side, and joined in the fun, as he unclipped me, then gave Ana instructions to tend my wounds. I'll see you for lunch,' he said, here.' Ana proved to have gentle hands as she soothed my welts, which were no more than superficial, anyway, with some magic lotion she had, and she seemed almost envious of me when she asked me if it had hurt, and I replied that it wasn't as bad as the butt-plug had been. That reminded her, and she said, Don't go away!' and disappeared, to return a few minutes later with a small box. I was already lying naked on top of my bed, and now she asked me to spread my legs. When I did so, she grasped the flange of my plug, and out it came, the suction making a cute plop.' We both laughed at that, then she showed me what she had brought in the box. It was a string of five silver balls, the size, I suppose, of ping-pong balls, with a silver ring at the end of the string. She had also brought with her a pink dildo, and was busily lubricating it while I looked at the balls, thinking there was no way I should be able to get those into my arsehole. Spread your cheeks for me,' Ana said, maybe it would be better if we put a pillow under you?' I shoved one under my stomach, and reached back, spreading my arse-cheeks, wincing slightly as one hand touched a crop-mark. I felt the lubricated tip of the dildo be inserted, at first very slowly and gently, into my anus, then its greater width following up, as it invaded me, penetrated my velvet tunnel, took away my last secret, virgin opening, passed my sphincter, causing me to squirm and moan as the agony and ecstasy merged. It was much longer than the plug had been, more like a real prick, and I felt for the first time what anal sex really might mean to me. Oh, Ana, please,' I groaned. Do you want me to stop?' she asked, it's nearly in full length!' Oh no, please carry on!' She gave another thrust, and I pulled her bodily around, while she still had a hand on the end of the dildo, grabbed her hair, and kissed her, my tongue questing into her sweet mouth. I came, for the second time that morning, a hot, onrushing orgasm, which swept through me like a tropical storm, and I soaked the sheets of my bed. Wow, Abigail,' said Ana, I know what the Master saw in you, I really do. ' She had removed the dildo when I had cum, and I now sat on the edge of the ruined bed, and watched in the mirror while she was on her knees in front of me, feeding the impossibly huge balls into my surprisingly commodious anus. It was true to say that they filled me, and I felt very uncomfortable at first, when I walked about with the balls in place, the ring dangling lewdly out of my arsehole, but with corsets, tight skirts, plugs, high heels and clamps, I was becoming well accustomed to discomfort, even beginning to welcome it as a part of my new life -- there was something intensely erotic about suffering for sexual ends and this permanent type of discomfort was a constant reminder of more acute pains which would surely follow. Dressed in a short cotton print sundress and, of course, high heels, I lunched with my Master, who asked solicitously after my wounds, and was a perfect gentleman. As we took coffee, he said, Would you care to come to my bed for the afternoon siesta, my dear?' Oh, yes please, Master,' I replied. He treated me like a young lover, tenderly stroking my body, kissing first my mouth, then teasing my nipples to their easy erectness, then licking his way down to my mons, and running his tongue the length of my crack, opening me gently with delicate fingers, then allowing me to guide his stiff, rampant prick slowly into my waiting cunt. I used my vaginal muscles to alternately grip and release his shaft, as he kneaded my breasts, and I wrapped my long legs around him, pulling him deeper within me as his strokes became more urgent. I whispered to him as he plunged ever harder within me that I wanted him to cum deep within me, and to emphasize my point, I rammed my forefinger deep into his arsehole. He came then, in a great gush, which filled me, not only with his sperm, but with happiness. He withdrew, and worked my clit the very short time necessary for me to have yet another climax. I was fast losing count of the number of times I had cum, and, with that thought, I slept, in my Master's arms. I awoke to find my Master looking at me tenderly, running a finger lightly over one of the welts on my back. I wondered if he was going to apologies for whipping me, but he just said, Come on, it's time to get up, sleepy!' and, as I slid out from between his black satin sheets, he gave a playful tug at the ring dangling from my arsehole. I felt one silver ball pop out, and presented my rear to him, so that he could poke it back in. That's nice,' he said, `you should be able to take me there by tomorrow, I think. Now we'll go and get some exercise, then dress for dinner.' He took me to yet another corner of the house I hadn't seen and showed me his gymnasium, and we worked out, side-by-side, both of us naked, for an hour, then took a leisurely swim in the indoor pool. I felt refreshed when it was time to dress for dinner. Left alone, I pottered around in my walk-in wardrobe, deciding on the very sexiest thing I could wear -- my Master deserved nothing but the best. I had

worn lace the night before, so I decided that silk would be in order, and found a beautiful, long, white, flowing halter-neck gown in soft silk, completely backless, so that my prettily-striped back would be obvious, and the loose top would allow my unfettered breasts to jiggle around nicely as I walked. Apart from a waist-chain and my collar, I wore nothing else, brushed my hair out to a rich sheen, stepped into customary stilettos and was ready for anything. I got a surprise when I arrived in the dining room. My Master hadn't told me that we weren't dining alone, and the gorgeous Jane was stood, sherry glass in hand, also wearing a backless dress, though hers was black, and short, with a flared skirt. Her gross husband, Marcus, was talking to my Master and another man, taller than either of them, all dressed in tuxedos, Marcus smoking a cigar. But it was the woman stood with Jane who commanded my attention. She was of -- probably -- east Indian extraction, her hair longer and, if anything, blacker than mine, her face a thing of sculpted beauty, her body slim and magnificent, with long, long legs. She wore a black dress, with alternate diagonal stripes of opaque material transparency, beneath which I could see she had on a pair of tiny white lace panties, tied at their sides by huge white ribbons. The effect was startling, and my eyes travelled to her full breasts, naked under the excuse for a dress, one dark, almost black, aureola with a prominent nipple jutting out through a transparent stripe. I thought her the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen, and knew I wanted to fuck her, desperately. But I was also aware that slave-girls were not supposed to have their own desires. Bruno was at my shoulder. Hello, my dear, you look ravishing tonight. And I see you have noticed Trina; she is very beautiful, isn't she?' I risked a glance, and he was smiling sardonically as he said this -- he knew somehow what had been going through my mind. He introduced me to her, and I went slightly weak at the knees as I took her languidly-offered hand, its long, slender fingers tipped by long, long, blue-polished nails, and decorated with many rings, then he presented me to the man he described as her escort,'

-- a strange term, I thought -- the tall guy I had seen earlier, a young stud by the name of Jason. When the time came to eat, I found that a sheet had been placed over two chairs at one side of the table, and one at the other. The other chairs were uncovered, as usual. Bruno directed me to the covered chair in the centre at the far side, whilst he took the uncovered one opposite, flanked by the two women, whilst I had Marcus and Jason either side of me. Remove the sheets, ladies, please, then we can all it down,' he said. I whisked the sheet away, and saw that it was a special chair, with a huge, slightly curved, realistic-looking dildo firmly set into its seat. I'm afraid you'll have to raise your skirts, and remove any underwear you may be wearing,' said Bruno, and looked pointedly at Trina, who seemed to be the only one wearing panties, but who looked not at all embarrassed when all eyes turned to her as she flipped the bows on the little white silk numbers she wore, then let them fall. We moved around our seats, and, at least in the case of the three women, maneuvered ourselves carefully into position before sliding down gently, accompanied by some sighing, onto our seats. I couldn't see how we could eat like this, and caught my Master's cynical smile -- he was, of course, aware that I had both holes well filled! I hope the ladies enjoy the little extra entertainment I have provided to go with the meal,' he said, you'll find a little button on the right arm of your chair, which will give you a rather interesting dinnertime, and afterwards, we shall have further diversion.' I pressed the button he mentioned, and the dildo that I had worked up into my cunt started to vibrate -- not the normal, buzzing kind, but a longer, throbbing beat, setting my juices moving instantly. Glancing at Jane and the lovely Trina, I saw from their faces that they were experiencing the same sensation, and then I became aware that my Master was watching me intently, and felt his foot touch mine under the table, in a silent incitement to cum for him. I abandoned myself to the sheer hedonistic joy of being fucked by a stiff, inhuman object, and allowed my pussy to rule me. I came, squirting copiously, as ever, though nobody could see more than my closed eyes, and hear my shuddering little moan. My slave cums a great deal,' said Bruno, to all and sundry, she's a multiplier!' Everyone seemed to think that was a good reason for a laugh, though I noticed that Trina didn't really join in -- then dinner was served. I turned off the vibrator, and sat enjoying my food, still acutely conscious of the invader in my pussy -- if I moved slightly, I had to relax my cunt-muscles to accommodate it -- but I got lost in a bit of a day-dream. What's

a nice girl like you doing, I thought, without a deal of originality.............I had been back-packing around aimlessly, almost ready to go back to an equally aimless life in England, probably marry a chartered accountant or something, then -- wham! Here I was, cumming half a dozen times a day, being whipped and enjoying it, about to lose my anal virginity and looking forward to it -- and, on top of that, wanting another woman more than I could remember wanting anyone in my life. Shit! But Bruno broke into my reverie with an announcement: I trust you are all well fed. We should all now go to the library, where the evening's entertainment awaits!' Grimacing with the other two women, I eased myself up from the chair. As we made our way to the library, I found myself beside Trina, who said quietly, That was once I didn't want to leave the table -- it takes me a long time.' I looked into her big brown eyes, and said, `I'd love the chance to help you solve that problem.' There, I'd come right out with it -- I really was a slut! -- and she didn't look taken aback, so I knew then that somehow, I was going to get her in bed with me. I thrilled at the prospect.

Abigail's Abduction Chapter 2 ============================================================================ ==== What to do? I had just watched my Master being led away in handcuffs, and it felt as if my world had come to an abrupt end. I sat on my bed, head in hands, and tried to think. Only the day before I had been taken to be pierced for him, and had been so proud when he admired my new piercings, and shown his pleasure by taking me in my still-tight anus, filling me with his cum. I had lain in bed before going to sleep, thinking about the last thing my Master had said to me, how he proposed to have me marked. I was to be branded with a red-hot iron--a terrible prospect, but I now knew that was what I had really wanted him to do, to assert his ownership of me. I had looked forward to presenting myself to him, my ankles in chains, each evening, and to the times when he whipped me cruelly, then loved me with a tenderness beyond belief. I wanted my Master, right now! My bedside phone sounded. Can you come down, Abigail? You're wanted,' said Clara. I pulled the heavy silk kimono tighter around me, had a quick check in the mirror that I was more-or-less presentable, and went downstairs. Trina stood in the entrance hall, and my heart missed a beat, as it invariably did at the sight of her. She looked a million dollars, her coffee-and-cream complexion perfect, her jet-black hair tied up in a glossy chignon, held in place by a black velvet bow. She wore a pale blue silk jersey suit with a pencil-slim skirt and matching blue high-heeled sandals. In her slightly-accented deep voice, she said, Hello, Abigail, I was hoping you'd still be here.' Where would I go?' I queried, realizing from her remark that she knew Bruno had been arrested. She ignored the question. You may as well know,' she said, he's not coming back, at least not any time soon.' I must have looked shocked, because she said, Sit down, and I'll fill you in--at least as far as I know.' I sat shakily down on the leather couch, underneath a glowering portrait of some nineteenth century patriarch. Trina sat gracefully down beside me, and patted my knee, sending a little shiver through me, despite the seriousness of the occasion. Bruno, Jason and Marcus have all been arrested early this morning.' she began. As you obviously know, Bruno was doing very well for himself-- hence all this...' She indicated the grand house we sat in. Marcus and Jason were almost equally well heeled. You don't get to have money like that in any honest endeavor, and they have been investigated over a long period. I have to tell you something you won 't like me for.' She paused, and looked at me searchingly. I have helped the FBI put them away, I'm afraid.' Shit, Trina,' I began, but she put up a hand to shush me. While I thought it was just money-laundering, and shady deals in the city, I tried to ignore it--after all, I was enjoying some of the fruits of it all. But then I found out--don't ask me how--that drugs were involved, and in a big way.' I couldn't believe it--my Master, a drug-baron, fuck! So now,' she said, you know what it's all about, except for one thing.' I looked up and into her lovely face. One thing?' She seemed hesitant about telling me the rest, but made up her mind and went on: I am not going to be popular with their associates, to say the least, and the Feds have offered me a move under their witness protection scheme. Jason put the house in my name, so I shall be well off once it's sold, plus I' ll get paid, wherever we go.' We?' I said, you...you don't mean you want me to come with you?' Yes, darling, I'd love you to,' she said, and leant over to take my face in her hands and kiss me tenderly on the lips. But...but,' I stuttered, you scarcely know me.' I know I want you,' she said simply, and that you need to be dominated-- and that's something I can do.' I suddenly remembered the sight of her lashing the little blonde slut Zia, who Bruno had imported for our evening's entertainment. You'd like me to be your......slave?' I asked. Yes, Abigail, if you think you'd be happy, there's nothing I want more in the world.' Oh, Trina,' I replied, I'd follow you to the ends of the earth.' I meant it, too, but should I start calling you "Mistress?"' No, darling, I don't think that will be necessary--you'll know who is truly your mistress, though,' she smiled, and I knew the truth of what she said. Where shall we go?' I wanted to know. You can leave that to me, but far away, for sure--we don't want to be looking over our shoulders, do we?' We kissed again, and she left me in a state of excited anticipation. To be going away to live with Trina--to obey her, be her submissive--there was nothing, nothing, that I wouldn't do to please her, and I found that my pussy was wet through, just imagining my life with her. My Master had taught me to be a good slave, to submit to his will, take his whip on my back, be humiliated by him, but I had no doubt at all that Trina could be at least as cruel and dominant, and the very sight of her was enough to set my juices running. Still in my kimono, daydreaming in the entrance hall, I was surprised when the doorbell rang. Ana glanced in my direction as she hurried to answer it, dressed, despite our Master's sudden departure, in her maid's uniform of a little black skirt, her long legs clad in seamed black nylons, heels clicking on the tiles. Two youngish guys, Ivy League types, in three-piece suits, followed her in. You are?' the taller of the two asked, and looked as if he was accustomed to getting an answer. Abigail Trent,' I replied. You English?' the guy wanted to know. Yes,' I replied, and, seeing my nervousness, he said, Don't worry, we' re not from immigration. But do you have somewhere else to go?' Do I need somewhere?' I asked. I'm afraid you do,' he said, Mr. Belloti's girl....,' he paused and looked at Ana, who supplied her name, ...Ana, can stay for the time being to look after our team. We're gonna take the place apart, so you and the other chick will have to make yourselves scarce.' Clara had been standing in a doorway, and heard the end of the conversation. How long do we have?' she asked. Until tomorrow,' he told her. Clara and I went into a huddle--she told me she could stay with her sister, and wanted to know what I was going to do. For some reason, I didn't want to tell her about my offer from Trina, and waited until she had gone off to pack before I called Trina's number. She answered right away, and told me she would come and get me that afternoon. Just pack a minimum, darling,' she told me, we can sort you out some things later.' Before she rang off she said, `There are new developments, by the way--it' s just as well you're coming today, I was just about to call you anyway.' Intrigued, I went to my room to dress and pack hastily. Half an hour later, I threw my grip into the back of Trina's shining silver

Lexus. Nice car,' I remarked, as I sank into the soft leather seat. It's something else I can sell,' she said, In fact my sister, who also happens to be my lawyer, is going to sell my house and everything else. She 's coming round this afternoon.' It's all happening very quickly,' I said. You haven't heard the best of it,' she told me, we're going tomorrow!' Where to?' I asked. Brazil,' she said, the Feebies have a place for me there, and want me to move right away.' They think you're in danger then?' I said. Yes. They are mounting a twenty-four hour guard outside my house until I go.' When we got to her gateway, an ostentatiously armed guard was gloomily picking his nose outside, but straightened up at our approach, and opened the gate to let us in. I helped Trina pack. She told me she wasn't going to take very much--just a change of clothes and toiletries, but then she decided she couldn't leave her toys behind, and we had a hilarious time selecting various dildos and vibrators, and speculating on the scandal if our baggage were to be searched. Trina told me she was going to take me shopping when we arrived, and that we should want for nothing. Exhausted after a day of such upheaval, we ordered a pizza, picked at it, with a glass of wine, then went early to bed. Too tired for sex, it was nevertheless wonderful to get in between Trina's silk sheets with her, both of us naked, and fall asleep in each other's arms. Our plane dropped over the ridge of green hills, down onto the hazy coastal plain, over the seething ravels of Rio de Janeiro, and in to land at the surprisingly neat international airport. A smiling young man announcing himself as Jadel, held up a board with Trina 's name on it as we emerged with the other passengers. He guided us out to a none-too-new Mercedes, and aimed it out into the racing traffic on the coastal highway. An hour or so later we turned inland, heading up over thickly-forested hills, and down into the busy town of Nova Friburgo. Trina had surprised me by striking up a conversation with Jadel, who had no English. Where did you learn Portuguese?' I had asked. I was born in Goa,' she said, and a lot of people there still speak the old colonial language.' Now she translated for me what Jadel had told her: Nova Friburgo is a centre for lingerie manufacture. He says they make a lot of sexy things here.' That accounted, I thought, for his leer as he had looked around at us when he said it. Trina admonished him and told him to keep his eyes on the road. We emerged from the town and drove another half hour into a pleasant agricultural area of rolling fields, many with cattle, then turned up a newly-asphalted road, coming to a halt at a sentry-box, with a red and white barrier across the road. Jadel spoke briefly to an armed guard, and drove us through, up a narrower road, infested with speed-bumps, took a left and drew up,

behind a small car and beside a high wall, with a wrought-iron gate. He skipped out and opened our doors for us. We had arrived. Waiting at the door of the modern chalet as we approached was a huge, brawny woman, who presented herself as Rosa, then led us inside, showing us around all the rooms, including the well-stocked larder. The chalet was spacious, set in a nice, secluded garden, with lawns and a small pool. Rosa had a few words with Trina, then withdrew discreetly and we heard both cars drive off. We were alone at last. Let's see what the pool's like,' said Trina, and I didn't need persuading. I was through the French windows, and stripping off beside the pool in no time at all, and I found the water agreeably warm, despite the fact that it was early spring there. Trina joined me in a flash, her long, lithe body sliding up to mine as I clung to the edge in the deep end, I turned and wrapped my legs around her, imprisoning her. I don't ever want to let you go,' I told her, I can't believe we're here together.' She towed me gently to the shallow end, and we sat together on the tiled steps in a foot of water. I pulled her to me and kissed her, letting my new tongue stud run around her own, snaking, restless tongue. Come on,' she said, the swim can wait.' She skipped lightly out of the pool and held out her hand to me, then led me back through the French windows into the lounge. She threw herself down on the sofa, not considering for a moment that she was soaking wet, and spread her lovely long legs wide. Her dark brown labia were puffy with desire, and she fingered her pussy, spreading the inner lips wide to reveal her glistening pink cunt. The sight of her was enough to bring me to the brink of an orgasm, and I quickly got down on my knees between her slim legs, plunging my tongue into her crack. She moaned deeply when my stud grazed her fast-growing clit, which emerged from its protecting hood, and as I flicked at it with my tongue, I drove two fingers deep into her cunt, finger-fucking my new Mistress furiously. But what she needed was something else, and I instinctively knew how to satisfy her. I pushed a long-nailed forefinger as far as I could into her arsehole, and she gasped with joy, but when I joined it with another finger, and twisted them around, she came in an instant, creamy liquid oozing from her cunt as she writhed in my arms. Clean me up now, darling,' she told me, a new authority in her voice, and I licked and licked until I had removed all her juices from her gorgeous pussy. That was wonderful, Abigail,' she told me, as your reward, you can tell me the things you would like me to do to you, when we've had that swim!' We swam up and down for a while, and I was all the while thinking about what Trina had just said to me. What was it that I wanted? Her love, yes, I was desperate for her caresses, to know she wanted me--I was wildly in love with her--but that wasn't all, was it? Trina had told me, back in Bruno's house, what seemed a century ago, but was a mere couple of days, that she wanted me to be her slave. I now wondered whether she could really dominate me, as my beloved Bruno had done. When we lay on sun-beds, her golden-brown skin glistening as droplets of water dried on it, her hair a wet rope down her long back, I decided to try and tell her what I wanted. Trina,' I said, you said you wanted me to be your slave.' Yes, darling,' she said, not sounding at all the dominatrix. That's exactly what I want to be, what I think I need.' Slowly, she turned her head in my direction, and I looked into her deep brown eyes, as she licked her luscious lips, and smiled. There was something intensely erotic about the gesture, and I found myself getting damp just looking at her. I can be very cruel,' she said quietly, I have been imagining some of the things I may do to you. Does that shock you?' No, because I too have been picturing myself as your slave, Trina.' That's wonderful, darling,' she said, then, after a pause, Rosa's taking us into town tomorrow--we need a lot of clothes and so forth--and I don't propose to mark you beforehand. I may whip you when we get back; would you like that?' Yes, Trina,' I replied simply, and she nodded and turned over. Although I had my own room, Trina invited me into her bed that night, and we slept entwined together. I thought I should burst with happiness. Next day we breakfasted on the terrace as the sun warmed the garden, drying the dew which had formed on the lawn. As I didn't have much in the way of options, I slipped on the cotton print sundress I had brought, and Trina said `snap!' when she saw me, as she too wore a simple cotton button-through. I still went without underwear, the habit Bruno had ingrained in me holding good. Rosa was punctual, and proved amiable enough as she drove us in her little Peugeot the half-hour ride into town. There were lots of nice shops there, quite sophisticated ones too, and Trina told me that anything I wanted was mine for the asking. She helped me buy several dresses, skirts and blouses, and bought some for herself as well. We went, following Rosa's directions, to a specialist lingerie store--an outlet for one of the most famous factories. Here we bought a quantity of silk garments, admiring each other when we tried them on, nightdresses, slips and garter belts. When I told Trina that I never wore panties, she said she would try to do likewise, so we bought none, and giggled like schoolgirls when a shop assistant watched us both strip

off to try on corsets, and looked from one to the other of us, showing her

surprise. We tried on several models of corset before we found the cruelly

restrictive ones we sought, which laced up the back, pulling our waists in

substantially, yet left our breasts perched high on top of the garment, and arched high at the back to expose our buttocks. Before we had finished, Trina ordered a new car from the Toyota concession, and we had lunch in a pizza parlor. On the way home, sat in the back of Rosa's car, I whispered, Something I don't quite understand.' What's that, darling?' I know why you had me buy a corset like that, but one for you as well?' Maybe I want to taste my own medicine from time to time--had you not thought of that?' I looked at her, and thought how much I loved her, but how little I knew her. When she turned to me, she slipped a hand up under the hem of my short dress, and slid it straight up my thigh to my naked pussy. Oh, Trina!' I gasped, and glanced hastily at the rearview mirror to make sure Rosa wasn't paying attention. Trina brought me close to my climax before we arrived home, and I had to go to my room and masturbate, as was my habit, in front of the wardrobe mirror, until I came, a gushing orgasm which left me weak-kneed and soaked. I felt, rather than heard, Trina enter my room. You little slut!' she said, you just came, didn't you?' Yes, Trina, I couldn't help myself.' Go to my room,' she said sternly, and undress!' I went, trembling with anticipation--I wanted to feel my Mistress's whip on my back. The thought crossed my mind that she didn't have a whip, but when she entered the room, she went to her still-not-unpacked suitcase, and brought out a short leather riding crop she had packed with the rest of her toys.'I shall have to buy some more things,' she remarked, almost to herself, when I get the car.' I stood by her big double bed, in nothing more than my heels, apart from the fine gold chain I had taken to hanging loosely around my waist.Kneel on the floor, darling,' she told me, and put your hands behind your head. You do want me to hurt you, don't you?' With all my heart,' I replied, aching for the kiss of her crop on my tender flesh. I knelt where I could see myself in the big mirrored wardrobe door, and see Trina too, flexing the crop as she stood, prepared to strike. Her face bore no expression of hate or violence, but of love and tenderness, despite the cruelty she was about to inflict on me. As if to confirm my impression, she took a pace towards me, pushed my hair back from my face, and kissed me, the kiss of a true lover, then she stood back again, and I heard the hiss as the crop flashed through the air before scoring my back, just below my shoulder blades, the stinging blow making me writhe and cry out sharply. In the mirror I saw that my back now bore a deep scarlet welt, and knew that Trina was going to hurt me as I had never been hurt before--and I wanted her to do it! She now thrashed me again, just as hard, and lower down, so that I let out a long moan of agony as she prepared third, even fiercer, stroke. `Oh, Trina!' I wept, as her crop drew a pattern of bright red stripes down my back, and I wondered what she was doing when he put down the crop after no more than six vicious lashes. Then I saw that she had picked up a flogger, a short handle to which was attached a bunch of wicked, thin, sharp-edged leather thongs. She now stood beside me and flogged my breasts with this new implement, which not only hurt abominably, but excited me beyond belief. I felt a huge orgasm building within me, and when she brought the flogger down to inflict more pain on my stomach, I could hold off no longer. I screamed loudly, and came, squirting hot gushes of my fluid right across the room. I practically blacked out then, and remember nothing until I was cradled in Trina's arms on her bed, my body scarred and damaged, my mind at rest. Next morning, Trina attended my sore back and breasts with great tenderness, and told me to rest for the day--she was going to interview girls in the search for a maid--so I gladly concurred, and sat by the pool as a succession

of young girls came and went. Trina surprised me not at all by giving the job to a pretty, lithe little thing with long, platinum blonde hair and long slender legs, who was half-American, and spoke good English--her name was Bea. I had spent a really lazy day, and woke next morning ready for anything. Just as well, as it turned out! Bea arrived too late to prepare a hot lunch--she had been to buy the clothes she needed, with the money and instructions Trina had given her. When she had changed into the little black pleated miniskirt, white silk blouse, black seamed stockings and patent heels, she looked altogether different from the girl who had appeared for interview, clad in jeans and a sloppy t-shirt. I knew Trina would have forbidden underwear, and felt a brief pang of jealousy, with the knowledge that Bea would claim a little of my new Mistress' s attention. As we were finishing our salad, the telephone rang, and Trina picked it up,

replying in Portuguese. When she hung up, she said, We've got a visitor, a guy from Immigration--he's coming about seven.' Immigration?' I queried, in some alarm. It's alright,' she smiled, they're in touch with Quantico, and he's bringing us our new papers.' At seven o'clock precisely, the front gate's bell sounded. We had dressed for dinner, not just to impress our visitor, but because Trina had decided we should make a habit of doing so. I was wearing a long white silk gown, the material soft and luxurious, with a halter neck, my marked back prettily exposed, while Trina wore a short, tight latex sheath, shiny midnight blue, which hugged her lovely body and restricted her to short steps. When our visitor was led into the lounge by Bea, I did a double-take. He was gorgeous! Perhaps in his late thirties and a trifle over six feet tall, he was well-muscled, in an athletic sort of way, and moved with easy grace. He wore his dark hair a touch long for current fashion, curling over the collar of the white open-necked shirt he wore with beige slacks and loafers. His eyes were of the palest grey, and when he smiled, he showed rows of even white teeth. Luis Silva,' he announced himself, at your service, ladies!' He spoke excellent English, with an appealing accent. He gave us all the papers we should be likely to need, including credit cards in our new identities, saying that our money would have been transferred to the local bank already. I was glad when Trina invited him to stay and dine with us, an invitation he accepted readily. Bea served us with her first cooked meal, a nice roast, but when she showed signs of pampering our guest, Trina said, That will be all, thank you, Bea!' and she scuttled off to her room. When we sat down to coffee, which Bea had left on a hotplate, Trina sat down on the sofa next to Luis, whilst I was opposite them in an armchair. I couldn't help noticing your back,' the Brazilian said to me, it looks sore. What happened to you?' She was whipped,' said Trina, as if commenting on the weather, but looking directly at our guest, whose mouth dropped open at the news. But....why?' he asked, Had she done something wrong?' Oh no,' replied Trina, don't you find it.....er, interesting?' Very,' said Luis, and, quite suddenly, Trina's slender fingers were sliding up his trouser-leg. Yes, I think you do find it.....interesting!' she said, as she located the growing bulge in his slacks, and stroked it lightly. Abigail, would you masturbate for our guest, please?' It was an unexpected request--order, really--but the sight of my Mistress, her fantastic body tightly encased in shiny latex, releasing the man's ramrod-stiff cock from his trousers, and caressing it tenderly in her hand made me eager to seek release. I slid the soft silk of my dress up my legs, which I then hooked over the arms of my chair. My eyes didn't leave the tableau opposite as Trina took the very tip of his long, slim tool into her lips. I parted my labia with the fingers of one hand, then, with the other, opened myself as wide as I could, so that Luis could see deep into the dark hole of my wet cunt. Then, as Trina took his whole length into her mouth, and started to suck audibly, I matched her rhythm, finger-fucking myself while I massaged my clit with the other hand. Luis's eyes never left my pussy. Just when I thought our guest was certain to cum, Trina grasped the base of his shaft, an came up for air. Don't cum!' she ordered me, and kneel in front of your chair, now!' I did as she told me, and without having to be told, lifted up the hem of my dress, baring myself to the waist. Open your legs, just a little,' said Trina, and spread your buttocks!' My face crushed down on the warm velvet of the chair, I reached behind me and opened up my buttocks with both hands. In no time at all, Luis was behind me, kneeling between my legs. Trina held his cock, and guided it home, into the portals of my arsehole. Oh,' he groaned, as I sheathed his stiff prick in my velvet tube, feeling the sensation of a hot, living weapon, filling me to bursting. Oh, fuck me hard!' I told him, and he drove as deep into me as was humanly possible, holding it there for a moment as I savored the ecstasy of having my arsehole penetrated again. Fuck me, fuck me now!' I shouted, and felt Trina's hands massage my tits as he did so. He thrust hard into me, and I was conscious of moaning with sheer joy, until Trina left my side, and went around Luis's back. I suddenly heard him roar, and felt him stiffen and give one almighty thrust, as he felt Trina's forefinger go hard up his arsehole. He shot his hot wad deep into my bowels. At that precise moment, I came too, great gushing floods of my vaginal fluid running down my legs, and my mind completely devastated by the cataclysmic climax. When I had recovered sufficiently to speak, I said to Trina, I came, but what about you?' Oh,' she said, I came too, darling.' Luis went on his way, promising to call and see us again, and Bea served us with mugs of hot chocolate as we watched television, curled up together on the sofa. Next day Trina's new car was delivered, and we went shopping again. After some hilarious attempts at asking the locals, we eventually located a sex shop, where Trina bought some new toys' including several dildos, a long bull-whip, handcuffs and other restraint and bondage items. She also got from the proprietress the phone number of a carpenter who would come to the house and make necessary alterations, with complete discretion--at a price. She wasted no time in contacting him, and he promised to start work the next day. After buying some shoes, an expensive video camera and tripod, and more clothes, we went home in time to spend an hour by the pool before it got too chilly. Two days later, we were relieved when the middle-aged, overweight carpenter bade us farewell. I thought he would dearly have loved to try out the work he had done most efficiently for us, as he looked longingly at me when we provided him with a sandwich, and made a poor attempt to cover up the fact that he tried to see up Bea's skirt, but he settled for the large fold of notes that Trina gave him. We inspected his work, and I was mildly surprised by what Trina had instructed him to do. In a spare downstairs room, which Trina had already dubbed the playroom' she had had a St. Andrew's cross installed--but instead of being up against the wall, it was firmly fixed horizontally a foot above the floor. At the extremities of each arm were steel rings, to which ankles and wrists could be attached. A whipping post had been placed against one wall, also with rings set into it, and a stout wooden chair, topped by a sybian, with a huge dildo attached, had been bolted to the floor. Chains depended from the ceiling in two places, with snap-links attached to their ends.I'd like to try out the cross tomorrow, darling,' said Trina, would you like that?' Oh yes, Trina,' I replied. It had been a little while since I had been whipped. My welts had faded, and I longed again for my Mistress's whip, but I appreciated that she always gave me notice--time for delicious anticipation of the pain I craved. Little did I know what was really in her mind. At dinner, Trina was aloof, as she could sometimes be, and when I told her there was a lovely old film on the television that evening, she said, I shall not be watching it, I have something else to do.' Then she went into her shell, and it wasn't until we were having coffee, that she spoke to me again, then she said, I have told Bea to come to my room this evening. You may watch on the television, if you please--I can set up the video--but you are on your own this evening.' I was stung and upset by what I saw as Trina's treachery, and told her I felt unhappy, so she stood up and came across to me, where I sat in my usual armchair, where I had been fucked so recently by Luis. She bent and kissed me, saying, Don't be sad, darling--I love you, you know. If Bea does well, I'll let you have her too, but tonight she is mine.' I cheered up a bit at that, but was still unhappy when Bea took away the coffee things, and Trina said to her, Don't bother washing the pots, my dear, just go up and wait for me.' I had decided not to take her up on her offer of watching them, but soon after Trina went up curiosity got the better of me, and I switched on the telly, navigating to the communication channel. What I saw was Bea standing, shifting from high-heeled foot to high-heeled foot, in her little pleated skirt, silk blouse and stockings. Trina was nowhere to be seen, but then she came into view, out of her private bathroom, wearing a gorgeous short white nightdress, quite transparent, fur-trimmed at hem and neckline. Her glossy black hair, which she had worn up at dinner, was loose, cascading down her back to her waist. I ached for her touch, and longed for the moment when I should be strapped to the cross, her whip lashing my back. Trina sat on her bed, right in front of the camera, and said, Undress, Bea! Slowly, if you please.' Bea shrugged off her blouse, and crossed her arms over her breasts. Don't be shy, my dear,' said Trina, let me see you.' The maid dropped her hands by her side, and her small, pert, firm breasts came into view, in contrast, I thought, to the sharp outline of Trina's lovely tits, whose dark brown nipples poked at the transparent material. Bea unclipped the waistband of her skirt, and let it fall down her long bestockinged legs, then stepped gracefully out of its little pool on the floor. She presented, I had to admit, a beautiful sight, standing there in very high heels, long black, lace-topped, stockings and a little satin garter belt. Jealousy was a bitter pill, and I almost turned off the television as Trina beckoned to the maid to come to her. But curiosity again won the day, and I watched, horribly fascinated, as my Mistress sat back on the bed, lifted the fur-trimmed hem of her nightdress, raised her knees, and opened her legs, so that her glistening pink pussy was lewdly displayed. Hesitantly at first, then more eagerly, Bea knelt between my Mistress's legs, pushed her long, silky blonde hair away over her shoulder, and ducked her head down into Trina's waiting crack. She was obscuring my view, but the slurping noise which issued forth from the video's sound system told me all I needed to know--and more--and when Trina began to moan and caress Bea, stroking her hair, then kneading her young breasts, I switched off in disgust. But in minutes, I felt compelled to have another look, and they were now in a full 69' position, Trina with her face buried in the girl's shaven pussy, the sounds of their incessant moans assaulting my ears. I turned off the set, and went to bed, crying myself to sleep. I slept surprisingly well, and awoke as sun streamed through my window, becoming suddenly aware of someone by my bed. It was my Mistress, carrying my breakfast on a tray. She was smiling gently at me as she sat down beside me on the bed, and pushed my unruly hair out of my eyes. I love you,' she said, simply. But you took Bea....' I began. That's right,' she said, and it was nice, but it's you I love, my little slut -- no-one can take your place. Enjoy your breakfast, then slip on the dress I have put out for you and come and see me in the playroom. I'll show you how much I love you.' Feeling much happier, I enjoyed the coffee and rolls, then got a surprise when I saw what she had laid out for me--it was a black latex dress, just like the one she had worn the evening we had entertained the man from Immigration. I struggled into it--thankfully it had a long zipper under the armpit-- and it sheathed me so tightly I could hardly breathe, the hem fitting tightly around my knees so that I felt completely restrained. I stood into a pair of extravagantly high needle-heeled sandals, which laced up my ankles, and had difficulty bending over to fasten them. I walked carefully down to the playroom, to find Trina sitting on a chair in a black negligee. I did a double-take when I saw that she had clipped on thick leather ankle- and wrist-restraints, each bearing a metal ring. I looked a question at her. She smiled back. I've been bad, and now you must punish me, Abigail,' she said. But, Trina, I love you, I can't... I won't!' Yes you will, darling, I want you to, please!' She had already walked over to the big wooden, horizontal cross, and was sliding the negligee off her shoulders, and I now knew she meant it--I had no option but to do as she wished, even though I was no dominatrix, and had serious doubts as to whether I could do it. You look lovely, darling,' she told me, and ran her hand down my latex-covered body, I can hardly wait for you to whip me.' Resigned to doing her bidding, I watched her lay down, spread-eagled, on the cross, and slipped the snap-links closed onto the rings in her ankle-and wrist-restraints. I had to admit she was a fantastic sight, naked and vulnerable, her honey-toned flesh an invitation to whatever I could do to her. I stroked her thighs and her gorgeous rounded buttocks, felt the wetness of her slit, and couldn't resist sliding two fingers briefly into her moist cunt. She said nothing, just gasped faintly as I did that. What would you like me to use?' I asked. Start with the strap,' she told me, then maybe the cane, if you want, but I want you to hurt me.' I picked up the strap, which was, in fact, a pair of rubber thongs, about a foot and a half long, mounted on a leather handle. I gave her a tentative stroke across the buttocks. You're going to have to do much better than that,' she said, I told you to hurt me.' I wielded the strap and thrashed her much harder, but she turned her head and looked at me scornfully. If that's the best you can do, I'll have to find someone else--perhaps Bea could do better?' Stung by her words, I lashed her with all my strength, and she flinched this time, as a reddening appeared on her bottom. I started to become more expert with the strap, and laid into her buttocks, lower back and thighs, until they were well-reddened, but I knew from my own experience that it was the cane she really needed, and changed implements. Using much the same force with the thin bamboo cane, I immediately saw results, and traced a narrow red wheal across both buttocks, drawing a low moan from Trina. Alarmed, I asked her if that was too hard. Oh no,' she gasped, go on, go on!' When I lashed her hard across her superb, graceful back with the cruel switch, she squirmed and cried out loudly--I knew she had cum as her agony turned into the ecstasy that only pain can truly bring. I carried on whipping her several more times, listening to her tortured moans, and now enjoying my work, so much that I too was on the verge of an orgasm. I stopped and squeezed the handle of the cane up my skirt, until I encountered my pussy, bringing myself immediately to a shuddering climax, and leaving my legs too weak to stand. I sat on an extremity of the cross, and began to unfasten Trina' s bonds. Her back and buttocks were criss-crossed with red stripes, and I wanted to tend them, make her better. She allowed me to rub in some cream, but said, I understand that rubbing salt in is very painful indeed--I don' t think I could stand that, but perhaps we'll try it out on you some time?' I blanched at the idea, but felt myself nodding my assent--my God, I thought, I am a real pain-slut, no mistake! Later, we lay beside the pool, idly watching Bea swim lengths--it was her free time, and she liked to keep in trim. You caned me well,' observed Trina, I came on that cross, you know.' I knew,' I said, and I came when I had finished whipping you.' I love you,' she said, let's both take Bea to bed tonight, shall we?' I'd like that,' I replied, but I'm still waiting for you to whip me again.' Then I will,' she said, come to my room after lunch, in a long silk nightdress, please.' This seemed a strange request, but I knew better than to question Trina's orders. After a cold lunch, during which I was suddenly quite nervous, I went to my room, stripped naked, and slipped on a floor-length, peach-colored silk nightgown, soft and luxurious, caressing my skin as I walked along the corridor in a pair of high-heeled mules. When I got to Trina's room she was waiting for me, still dressed in the tight black cocktail dress she had worn at lunch. Go into my bathroom!' she ordered, and followed me there. I started to take off my nightgown, but she stopped me. Go and stand under the shower,' she said, and I stepped into the big, open, tiled shower space, feeling strange, still wearing the nightgown and mules. Trina clipped handcuffs onto my wrists, and lifted them up to attach me to the shower-head, high above me. Then, without warning, she turned on the cold water tap, full-blast. The ferocious, icy-cold jets stung me, even through my nightgown, the soft silk immediately saturated, clinging to my body like a second skin. Trina reached through the torrent and turned off the tap, and when I had the chance to breathe again, I looked over my shoulder, to see her stood there, riding crop in hand. Without a word, she slashed the crop with all her strength across my back, and the sting I instantly felt was all the worse for the wet silk between my flesh and the cruel, braided leather. I cried out, but that inspired my Mistress to greater effort, as she landed another vicious stroke, lower down than the first. I groaned with the agony of the awful whipping, as again and again the crop gave me a new insight into the searing pain it could inflict. Shall I stop, darling? Had enough?' Trina asked, and someone--it must have been me--said in a tiny voice, No, please hurt me more!' The truth was I craved the pain my Mistress's whipping brought to me, and my desire for her

built to a peak as she continued my punishment. When finally she put down the crop, I was sobbing, not only with the agony she had inflicted, but with emotion at my love for her, and in the aftermath of the orgasm that had shaken my very soul. She unfastened my cuffs, helped me strip off the soaked nightgown, and turned me about, so that I could see the new red welts on my back--nowhere near as serious as they had felt, but a pretty ladder of stripes I was going to be proud of for several days--or until my next whipping, I thought. After lunch, I was stretched out, face down, on a lounger by the pool, enjoying the warm spring sunshine, when Bea came to tell Trina the bank manager was on the phone. When she went off to answer the call, Bea lingered, and said to me, Did it hurt?' A bit sleepy, I replied, Did what hurt?' These marks on your back--you've been whipped, haven't you? I heard you scream this morning, anyway.' I turned to face her, and smiled. I can't expect you to understand, Bea,'

I said, but I live for the time when my Mistress will next punish me.' My God!' she exclaimed, it's certainly hard to understand, but it' s.....er.... exciting, though.' She traced one of the wheals on my back, a fingernail lightly touching my injured flesh, suddenly bent over and kissed the place, and then scampered off, looking embarrassed, towards the kitchen. After dinner, Trina invited Bea to join us for a drink, and when we were all settled down with glasses in our hands, me in my armchair, Bea next to Trina on the sofa, Bea said, after a couple of false starts which made us laugh, Miss Trina, I want to ask you something.' Go ahead, my dear, what is it?' said Trina. I don't know how to put this,' started Bea, but I wonder if you'd be prepared to....Oh, I don't know!' Look,' said Trina, if there's something you want to ask me, then out with it!' In a tiny voice, looking at her knees, she said, I think I'd like to be whipped, like Miss Abigail.' You don't know what you're asking, girl,' said Trina, harshly, you haven't thought about it, have you?' Yes, Miss Trina, I have,' said Bea, please don't reject me!' I'm not doing anything of the sort,' said Trina, its just that I think you're too young.' No I'm not,' she pouted, I'm nearly twenty, and...and, well, it's what I want -- at least it's something I'd like to try.' Trina looked at me, What do you think, Abigail. Do you think she should be whipped?' I didn't know what to think. I didn't want Bea taking my place, and I hesitated, but Trina saw my reluctance to reply and laughed softly, saying, You have nothing to be afraid of, darling--I love you, you know, and if I agree to punish Bea, you will be at my side. I may even let you whip her yourself.' Then if she is sure, yes. I think she's very pretty, and it would be very exciting to see her chained up and whipped.' Then I agree, Bea. You have tonight to decide if that's what you really want. If it is, I shall whip you tomorrow, after breakfast. Now, would you like to come to bed with us tonight?' Oh yes, Miss Trina,' she replied. Half an hour later, we lay together on Trina's huge bed, Bea between the two of us. Subdued light from the bedside lamp made the maid look more beautiful than ever, her soft, platinum blonde hair fanned out on the pillow, pert young breasts pointing at the ceiling, where Trina's carpenter had installed a big mirror. I kissed one breast while Trina teased the other, biting the erect nipple with her white teeth, so that Bea gasped. I explored her crack with my fingers--it was beyond moist, so I transferred my mouth down to her waiting pussy, sought her clit with my tongue-stud, then licked the whole extent of her slit, pushing apart her labia, before forcing my tongue into the dark promise of her arsehole. Oh, Miss Abigail!' she cried, oh please!' You want me to stop?' I asked. Oh no,' she said, no, please go on!' It was obvious she was no anal virgin' and moaned with pleasure as I tongued her velvet tunnel, her orgasm coming quickly, as she writhed, then stiffened, cried out something in her native Portuguese, then was still. Trina pushed her gently aside and concentrated on me, our tongues entwining rapturously, as she provoked my clit with her long sensitive fingers. Suddenly she thrust the tips of all her fingers into my wet cunt, twisting hard as she sought entry. Oh!' I called, as the point made by her fingers widened into her fist, and then she was inside me, and I couldn't hold back any longer, my climax coming at me like an express train. Go to your bed now!' Trina ordered me, I'm having Bea to myself.' I was put out by this, but did, of course, as she told me, casting a backward glance at the two of them, in time to see Trina grabbing a handful of Bea's fine hair, and pulling her had down between her long legs. In spite of what I saw as a rebuff, I slept well, and woke to find Bea standing by my bed with my breakfast tray. Did you enjoy your night?' I couldn't resist asking. Yes thank you, Miss Abigail,' she replied, but most of all when you.....when you er...did that to me, you know.' When I tongued your arsehole, you mean?' She looked away. Yes.' I want you to do it to me, too,' I told her, perhaps when you've been whipped, if Miss Trina doesn't mind?' Oh yes, Miss Abigail,' she said, and can I ask you something?' Of course.' Does she hurt you when she whips you? You see, I've never been whipped before.' Yes, it hurts,' I said. But you still want her to do it to you?' `Yes, Bea, I do.' She left me then, but was unable to resist another look at the stripes on my back, as I sat up naked on the bed. Bea had been told by my Mistress to put on a long silk nightgown, and I wondered if she was going to punish her in the shower, as she had done me, but realized that the gown was, in fact, a part of the ritual Trina had formulated. She herself was clad in a severe long black latex skirt, so tight it must have been very uncomfortable, and a whaleboned black corset which left her gorgeous breasts uncovered, perched above it. She had affixed weighted nipple clamps, unconnected to each other to her protuberant nipples, and wore her long black hair piled on top of her head. Black patent heels of a prodigious height completed her ensemble. I wondered if I was correctly dressed, having also selected black, a tight, backless cocktail dress which showed off the pretty pattern of stripes on my back. When Bea arrived in the play-room, just after I did, Trina ordered her to strip, and I watched as she slid the white, virginal nightgown off her shoulders, and let it whisper to the floor around her mules. I knew my job, and when Trina passed them to me, I clipped the restraints around Bea's ankles and wrists,

and pulled her gently towards the horizontal cross, where she was soon spread-eagled, her beautiful hair falling down over her face, her round buttocks an open invitation to be whipped. She was trembling noticeably. You are frightened, aren't you?' said Trina, as she selected a short riding whip from the rack. Yes, Miss Trina. P-please don't hurt me!' stuttered the maid. It's too late for that, my dear,' said Trina, of course I'm going to hurt you. It's what you wanted, isn't it?' Yes, Miss Trina, but....' Trina, stood close to Bea's head, grasped a handful of her hair, and pulled sharply. Be quiet now!' she ordered, then, to me, Feel the little slut's cunt, Abigail darling, will you. I'm sure she's ready.' I obeyed, noticing that her anus, which I had probed the night before, was now more dilated, and I knew that Trina had penetrated her with one of her huge dildos during the night. Her pussy was wet, little droplets of her vaginal fluid glistening on her labia, and I couldn't resist opening her, and looking at her inviting pink cunt, which it was all I could do not to fall upon and tongue. Trina impatiently tapped the whip against her latex-clad thigh, so I stood back, as Bea started to whimper, having seen the whip. I'm going to give you twenty strokes. Count please!' said Trina, as she tested the cruel whip through the air, then she touched it lightly to the soft flesh of Bea's buttocks, drew her arm back, and there was a swishing sound as the leather thong flew through the air, and a crack as it struck Bea' s lower buttocks. Her scream filled the air as the whip's vicious sting drew a thin red line across both arse-cheeks, but Trina yelled at her, Count, you slut!'One,' gasped Bea, just in time for another violent stroke to surprise her by landing in the small of her slim back, where I knew it would hurt terribly. Two!' sobbed Bea, but the whip was already on its way again, this time slashing into her shoulder-blades. Trina was expert in making the next stroke land where it was least expected, and Bea's slender form was wracked by her sobs as the lash drew a brutal pattern on her. She squirmed and struggled against her bonds, and when Trina paused half-way, and nodded to me, I went up between the servant's legs and put my hand to her crack. It was soaking now, and I could tell that she was on the verge of orgasm- Don't cum yet!' ordered Trina, ferociously. Oh, Miss Trina!' wept Bea. I'll tell you when you can,' said my Mistress, and lashed the girl hard over her upper thighs. Eleven!' she managed to mutter, just before number twelve rained down on her lower back. When Trina reached the seventeenth stroke, she paused and went to Bea's head, lifted her hair from her face and said quietly, You can cum now, my dear.' As the next fierce stroke bit into her buttocks, Bea's scream was louder, more agonizing, and I knew her release had come--that she had climaxed. Milky fluid trickled out of her cunt, and dripped to the floor as Trina belabored her with the last two strokes. Bea had taken her first punishment. Thank you, Miss Trina,' she said, as I released her from the cross. Take her to her room, Abigail,' said Trina, and tend to her back, will you?' When I had finished soothing scented oil into her superficial welts, Bea showed her gratitude by going down on me, sucking my clit, her sharp white teeth teasing it unbearably, then she transferred her attention to my anus, pushing her tongue as deep as she could into my ready velvet tube. I came in a gushing torrent, soaking her face and neck. Oh, Miss Abigail,' she said, I've never been so happy in my life!' Later, at lunch, Trina told me she was keen to have me marked. I r emembered that Bruno had talked of having me branded, what seemed like a century ago, branded with a red-hot iron. I had agreed then, and now my beloved Trina wanted to mark me, to give me her seal. I told her she could do with me as she pleased, that I would die for her, and she came round the table and kissed me. We discussed the project as if we were having a room painted--Trina told me she had a contact, through someone back in New York, who would arrange it, and have a brand made, with Trina's family crest. We coolly discussed the location of my mark, and Trina decided it should be on the small of my back, where a lot of girls got tattoos. A lot of people will see it there,' she said, whenever you swim in a public place, or when you wear a backless dress. I trembled a little as I imagined the terrible pain I should surely feel, but Trina reached across the table and took my hand, stroking its back with her long-nailed fingers, soothing me like a dose of valium. So then, it's decided,' she said, `you'll be marked as soon as the brand is ready.' She licked her lips in a characteristic gesture at the prospect. When we made love that afternoon, I gave myself to my Mistress completely, surrendering to her every whim.

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