When I stopped her head rolled back weakly and she moaned, dazedly I slammed my fist into her belly and her head was flung forward as she grunted in pain.
“You are a cheap little piece of cunt meat!” I snapped. “You don’t have any will. You do what I order! Do you understand!?”
I gripped her hair and jerked her head back, putting my face inches from hers.
“Do you understand?!”
“Ye… yes,” she gasped.
I slammed my knee up into her bare pussy pad and she grunted explosively, her head falling back again as she began to sob.
I moved behind her, running a hand over her smooth, soft skin, then went to my toys and examined them.
I started with the cane. It hissed through the air each time I swung it, and cracked against her round behind with a satisfying sound and weight. She sobbed and moaned and shook in pain, water still dripping from her hair.
I laid a couple of dozen quick slashes across her ass, then put down the cane and picked up the buggy whip. I lashed her back and buttocks and thigh, mostly for the satisfaction of it. The whip was too light to really cause her the kind of pain I wanted.
I put it aside and picked up the crop, and her screams rose in intensity and desperation as I began whipping her buttocks, then moved slowly upwards, lashing her lower back, then her middle back, then her upper back, raising blows down on her shaking, trashing body as she shrieked and screamed.
I put down the crop when her reactions were starting to dull, when the pain from her back was obscuring the fresh pain of each blow. I went to the box and picked up the bull whip, letting it uncurl and fall to the floor.
My cock was bulging against my pants as I stared at her reddened back and buttocks, crisscrossed with marks of pain. I gave her several minutes while I snapped the whip at a chair on the other side of the room, practicing until it cracked nicely.
It wasn’t too hard once you got the hang of it.
I returned to find her moaning and whimpering, mostly unchanged, her hair still dripping a little.
I positioned myself behind her, looking at her gorgeous body in front, in the mirrors that showed her head dropping down, eyes closed. Well, her eyes were going to open wide in a minute.
I swung the whip forward, and it cracked solidly across her shoulders.
Her head snapped back and she screamed in startled horror, her body shaking and straining violently as an angry red welt appeared among the lighter marks of her back. It ran across her shoulder blades and along her ribs at her side.
I gave her a minute of sobbing moaning pleading to contemplate the next, then swung the whip. Another angry line slashed across her lower back and again she thrashed violently as her screams filled the basement.
The whip lashed out again and again and again, laying lines of fire across her back and buttocks, drawing a wonderful response from her.
I put the whip down then. I had been very careful with it, four the blows were so harsh against her flesh that if the whip lashed across one of the welts already on her it would have cut her and possibly left scars.
I didn’t want any scars on my fuck toy, not on the outside.
There were five thick, dark red welts across her back and buttocks, and that would do for now.
But I wasn’t finished with her punishment, not by a long shot. She would learn that she had to obey me no matter how disgusting she thought the request.
I went to the table. There were two things there I wanted. One was an anal hook. It was like a dildo, only it was about four inches long instead of eight, and it curved sharply like a hook, and had a ring on the end.
The second was a simple cord, which I had tied into the ring.
I went back to the sobbing, moaning girl and gripped her hair, pulling it together behind her head and winding it into a kind of rough braid. I then forced the dildo hook up her anus. It hooked under her tailbone, and I lifted the cord, pulling back on her braid, forcing her head back further and further, until her eyes were facing up at the ceiling.
Then I tied it to the cord and moved around in front of her.
She could no longer even see me, for her head was bound tightly back, looking up at the ceiling behind her.
I picked up the buggy whip first, then slashed it across her belly. She sobbed in pain, but nothing like the shrieks the bull whip had earned. That was okay.
I lashed her belly and thighs, then looked at her taut round breasts, straining outward because of her arched back. I raised the buggy whip and lashed it across her right breast, and she screamed in startled shock and pain.
I whipped her left breast then her right again, then her left, as she sobbed and shook and moaned in pain, straining and writhing as the whip cracked across her taut melons.
Next came the flogger, turning her belly and breasts red as I whipped it down on them. After that came the paddle, which I had not yet used. Finally came the riding crop, and her screams rose as I cracked it across her belly and thighs, then on her quivering breasts.
Her melons bounced and jerked as the crop bit deep, and she shrieked and howled in agony as her fiery breasts were thoroughly beaten.
I dropped the crop, winded, and moved around behind her. I undid the cord binding her hair then shoved her head forward. Her chin dropped onto her chest as she grunted, only barely conscious.
I plucked the hook from her anus then thrust my iron hard boner deep up into her shitter. Quickly and violently I sodomized her, then spewing my load in her guts.
I pulled her down finally, but only to hang her upside from by the ankles again, the hood over her head, and her arms bound behind her. I put the headphones on and left her there for the rest of the day.
I let her down in the late evening, and all she could do at first was lay there, moaning weakly. I got the cane then, and started yelling. Yelling like a drill instructor, cursing her, slashing out with the cane when she didn’t obey quickly.
I had her crawl up the stairs on her belly, had her do tricks, roll over, sit up, beg, jerk off, lick my toes, lick her own toes. At a barked command she crawled this way, or rolled that, or positioned herself in a way I had ordered. Any slight hesitation brought the cane whistling down across her burning back or buttocks or breasts.
Then it was back upstairs to the tub, where she knelt, slack-jawed as I pissed into her mouth. She swallowed it all down dully, then thanked me for it. I washed her roughly, then made her crawl into my room, where I applied a soothing salve to the marks on her body before circling her with rope like a cocoon and leaving her on my bed, gagged.
When I woke the next morning all I had to do was roll her onto her belly. Her legs were bound together, which made for tight going, but I managed to get my cock down into her ass for a quickie.
I pulled her gag free and let her drink my piss. After chugging down my piss I untied her and let her crawl on her belly down the stairs and into the living room.
There, with the aid of the crop, and the promise of food if she did well, she lurched from position to position, now on all fours, ass raised, now on her knees, hands up behind her neck, now on her back, legs back and apart, ass and pussy displayed.
I let her crawl into the kitchen on all fours, then put down a bowl of milk, which she was permitted to drink like a dog. After that I made some light soup, and let her drink that. It didn’t take her long to lick the bowl clean. It had been two days now since her last morsel, after all, and she was starving.
Then as a final reward, I let her kneel and lick a few morsels of bacon and eggs from my fingers. I ate while she knelt at my feet, then let her crawl alongside me upstairs, where I applied more soothing salve to her skin. She was all marked up, after all, and I wanted her soft, unblemished skin back as soon as possible.
I let her rest on a blanket on the floor for a couple of hours, then it was up to perform her tricks again. I barked them out rapid-fire, making her race from one to the next.
I didn’t want to mark her up any more, so I inserted the shock tube, the egg thing, back into her anus. The slightest pause or hesitation in her tricks, or the slightest lack of enthusiasm in her actions and I jabbed the button.
I used the egg on her that day and the next, and hung her by her ankles for long periods of time with the tape playing in her ears.
Then I started treating her nice. I removed the egg, I hugged her a lot, and stroked her hair and kissed her gently, and spoke softly and complimentary to her. This confused her at first, but then she performed even more eagerly, wanting to please me, not wanting me to go back to screaming and yelling at her, not to mention beating her.
I produced some sexy lingerie, and let her put on a fashion show for me, complimenting her on her beautiful or how sensuous and erotic and sexy she was. I began working on her body, stroking it softly as she lay across my lap, or beside me on the sofa.
I tied her spread eagled to my bed and then ate her out, using every trick I knew to finger and stroke and suck and lick her nipples and breasts and crotch to repeated orgasms.
I used the vibrator on her, and other little toys, feathers, brushes, ice cubes, to drive her into orgasmic madness again and again.
Then let her sleep in bed with me, her hands bound gently in front of her, a loose line binding her collar to the bedpost, my arms around her.
Then I caught her doing something wrong. Oh, it was only wrong by my definition, of course. I’d been looking for something to catch her at so I could punish her again.
This happened to be turning on the TV to watch a show without my permission. She was teary eyed when I called her on it, and threw herself at my feet, kissing and licking them and promising to never do it again. She begged me to forgive her, but I told her she had disappointed me terribly.
“I will have to punish you, Gwen,” I said sadly.
“Please, nooooo,” she sobbed. “I won’t do it again, Michaaaeeellll!”
“Let’s go down to the basement.”
She sobbed in misery, and crawled towards the basement.
“Wait,” I ordered. “It might be that you don’t need the full punishment. Maybe, if you have enough discipline, if you really do love me, that…”
“Please! Please!” she gasped. “Anything!”
She kissed my ankles and I backed away.
“Are you strong enough to take your punishment without being tied down?”
“I… Yes,” she gulped.
“If you can, then I won’t have to use the bull whip.”
She shuddered and hugged herself fearfully.
“Or the riding crop. Nor will I have to hit you nearly as many times. Do you think you can be strong?”
“Yes!” she gasped.
I pretended to consider.
“The last time I punished you I hit your behind with the cane twenty times, then with the buggy whip ten times, then with the crop twenty times, then with the bull whip four times.”
She shuddered again.
“Then I used them all on your back. After that I used them all on your belly and thighs and breasts. Except for the bullwhip, which I didn’t use on your front.”
She whimpered slightly.
“This is what I’ll do. Instead of that, I will only use the cane, and I will not hit you more than thirty times in total. But only…” I pointed my finger at her warningly, “... only if you can maintain your position, and not move without permission. If you move, or try to evade the blow, or try to turn away, then you go downstairs and get hung from your wrists.”
“And this time,” I glared. “You’ll get fifty blows across the back with the bullwhip, and fifty more across the breasts. I don’t know if you’ll live through it.”
“I’ll do anything you want,” she begged.
“You will try. Wether you’ll succeeded depends on wether you have learned any discipline in the past week or so. Now strip off your lingerie. Until you prove you deserve to wear them you’ll have no clothes on your slutty little body.”
I went and got the cane, and when I returned she was sitting on her heels, back straight, naked ready for her punishment.
“Dog-fuck,” I said.
She sprang forward onto her hands and knees, spreading her legs and sticking her ass up at me. I moved behind her and examined it. All the marks were gone now except for a couple of fading lines from the bull whip. Her pussy was cleanly shaved, of course.
“Remember, if you try to move or escape your punishment you know what you’ll get.”
“I won’t,” she promised, her voice quivering.
I drew back the cane and slashed it across her upturned ass. She cried out softly, and trembled, but held her position. I lashed it down again, loving the feel of it as it struck into her soft meat. Again she cried out, choking off the sound.
Three more times the cane cracked across that lovely teenage ass, and though she was sobbing weakly she kept her position.
“Heels,” I barked.
She scrambled quickly back and sat her ass down on her heels. She winced and moaned, but ignored the pain as she straightened her back and spread her knees apart.
I moved in front of her.
“Five down, fifteen to go, slut. Think you can take them.”
“I’ll do anything you want, Michael,” she gasped.
“Hands behind your neck. Arch your back. We’ll see just how much discipline you have now.”
She knew what I was aiming for, and sobbed as she threw her head back and brought her hands behind her neck. I poked at her breasts with the cane, then drew it back and cracked it down lightly across her right breast.
She gasped, clenching her teeth, beads of sweat starting to break out on her skin.
I cracked it down on her left breast, just a bit harder.
She let out a low gurgling sob.
I cracked it down on her right breast, harder still, and she cried out in pain, tears spilling from her eyes.
I swung the cane down on her left breast again, still harder.
She jerked and moaned and cried out in pain, but she kept her hands where they were and kept her back arched.
I slashed it down hard now, the sound loud as it cracked into her right breast, then her left, then her right, then her left.
She was sobbing and crying out continuously, her torso swaying and shaking and jerking as the cane descended, swishing through the air and cracking against her meaty orbs, but after five blows to each breast she had managed to hold her position.
I lowered the cane and admired her gorgeous torso, sweating heavily now, her breasts crisscrossed with red lines.
“That’s fifteen. Only five more to go.” I said softly as I kneaded her cherry red breast. “CAT!” I snapped.
It was another of the positions I’d trained her to do. She all but fell down onto her back. Laying on her back Gwen jerked her legs up and pulled them back, until her heels were pressing against her rump. She then grasp both of her ankles with her hands. She lifted her ass up as high as she could while at the same time spreading her knees wide apart. Lastly she pooched out her bald pussy. With her pussycat on display, she laid there, gasping and whimpering, her eyes gazing down at her muti-striped breasts.
“Five more and it’s done,” I said. “If you can hold your position.”
I had to kneel for this final portion of the punishment. I raised the cane, and she stared at it, whimpering, watching it swing down hard, watching it crack directly across her soft, bare pussy mound.
She shrieked in pain, rocking back and forth on her bent spine, howling and sobbing as her head thrashed from side to side. I thought for a minute she was going to unbend, but she managed to keep her arms tightly against the backs of her legs, her hands griping her ankles tightly.
I cracked the cane down onto her pussy mound again, then again, then again, swinging hard.
She howled with each blow, but though she rocked and writhed and her head thrashed alarmingly, she didn’t change her position.
The final blow, as hard as I could, cracking into her soft cunt mound, directly along her cleft so it mashed against her clit.
Another shriek, louder than the others, and more thrashing and shaking, but she held herself in place.
“All done,” I said. “You may thank me now.”
She let her ankles go with a ragged sob, her hand clutching her pussy weakly as she rolled onto her front and crawled to me, licking at my feet and thanking me.
I slid down beside her and carefully and gently licked along her breasts, sliding my tongue along the red lines the cane had made, tonguing and suckling at her nipples, which hardened quickly, then down her body to her pussy.
She whimpered as I touched it, but I was gentle, my tongue soft, sliding soothingly over her clitty as she spread her legs wide. Her cunt was incredibly tender, of course, as were her breasts, but she was such a fucking slut now that she couldn’t resist my tongue, and was soon writhing in climax, whimpering and moaning in joy as my tongue brought her off again and again.
The next time I “caught” her at something, I arranged for it to be with a vibrator buried in her snatch. She was as hot as steam, and on the verge of coming when I “discovered” how she had broken a minor rule.
She was in shackles at the time, and I was calling her my sex slave, my slave girl, and she was getting into it blissfully I made her assume the same positions she had before, only wasn’t quite as heavy with the cane.
This time she obviously got off on it, gasping in both pain and pleasure as I caned her breasts, moaning as she lay back and brought her knees back.
There wasn’t the screaming this time, but instead loud grunts and choked cries of pleasure. I hit her pussy five times, then six, then seven, as she moaned and writhed in delirious passion. On the ninth time she came, screaming in pleasure.
I whipped the cane down as fast as I could then as she rocked and shook and thrashed in orgiastic wonder.
Then when she went limp I dropped atop her and rammed my cock down her whipped pussy, fucking her violently.
Well, all good things had to come to an end. My parents returned home after three weeks. Neither noticed anything amiss, of course. Gwen acted pretty much the way she always had around them. Not that she was around them much, nor that they paid much attention to her when she was.
I still had her on her knees sucking me off every afternoon, of course, but was unhappy with the restrictions my parents’ presence placed on discipline, not to mention on fucking her in the evening.
So I bought a little place just outside of town. It had three things going for it. One, it had no really close neighbors, two, it had a garage, and three, it had a bomb shelter under the basement.
I moved out of the house, leaving Gwen behind for now. I returned every day, of course, fucking her, making her do her tricks, making her jerk off and dance for me, and caning her when she broke some minor rule of mine.
I gave her an assignment, though. She was to think of girls for me to grab, the most beautiful, luscious, adorable girls she knew, ones roughly her own age. She was to go to malls and beaches, and anywhere else she needed to go to find more of these girls, to get to know them, to befriend them.
In the meantime I asked around, and found some kinky, high class clubs in the city where the really rich gathered to do disgusting things. I spent most evenings in them, learning as much as I could about the kinds of the various rich guys there, and what kind of people they were.
I wound up getting to know a rich guy named Peter Martin. He was in his late fifties or early sixties, extremely wealthy, and loved putting the whip to beautiful young women. Of course, everything in the clubs was consensual, so there was a limit to what he could do.
Even the girls who got paid to take abuse would only take so much, and there have always been few enough of the true masochistic whores with dynamite bodies willing to bear great pain for lust. So despite his great wealth, Peter was unsatisfied. I was going to do my best to capitalize on that.
Gwen was wearing a pair of loose shorts and a halter top when I showed up at my parents house. But this time I wasn’t alone. I wanted her to get used to fucking people other than me, to being nude around others. That had been a part of her education I had failed in to date, and something I needed to take care of.
She was a bit confused when I walked in with Mark Phipps I hadn’t told her that I was bringing anyone. As for Mark, I’d promised him a hot, nympho whore who would do anything. I hadn’t told him she was my sister, or anything about how she’d become like she was.
“Hi, Michael,” she said with an anxious smile.
“Hello, gorgeous,” I said.
I walked up to her and slid my arms around her, kissing her deeply, sliding my hands down onto her ass and squeezing.
She was tense and anxious, probably wondering how she should act in front of a stranger. After all, she was my sister, and had to be afraid people would find out about that. And that was quite aside from the ordinary shyness a teenager who’d never exposed herself to anyone but her brother would feel.
I pulled back and slipped my arm around her waist as I turned to Mark.
“What’d I tell you, Mark? Is she gorgeous or not?”
“Oh yeah,” he said, looking her up and down.
Gwen smiled shyly.
“She is one of the most natural little sluts you’ve ever met in your life,” I said. “Maybe the most natural. Plus, she’s got a body to die for. Don’t you, beautiful?”
I slipped around behind her and hugged her, then slid my hands up to cup her breasts.
She stiffened with a gasp, but didn’t say anything. Obviously she had no idea what to do. She didn’t dare refuse me anything, yet was quite embarrassed at being groped in front of a man who was a complete stranger to her.
I mashed her breasts together as she stood there, quivering, then pulled my hands back behind her and untied her halter. Her arms came up for a second, as though to cup her breasts.
“Hands down,” I whispered.
Her hands lowered and I slipped the halter off her, baring her breasts.
“What do you think?”
“Maaaan,” Mark said, eyeing my sister’s gorgeous breasts.
I cupped them and squeezed them.
“These are a set of the finest shaped tits I’ve ever held,” I said. “Give a feel.”
I pulled my hands back and Mark stepped forward, eyeing Gwen uncertainly.
“You don’t mind if Mark squeezes your tits, do you, Gwen,” I said.
“N… no,” she breathed.
Mark reached up and cupped them gently, then squeezed them, lifting them upwards. I looked over her shoulders and watched his fingers squeezing the soft round flesh.
“Nice, huh?”
“Gorgeous,” Mark gulped.
I slid my hands on to her belly then eased one down between her legs, cupping her crotch through her shorts. I rubbed her pussy as Mark squeezed her breasts, then slid my hand down the front of her shorts and over her cunt mound, rubbing my fingers along her slit.
Somewhat to my surprise, rather than being stiff with fear, her body was melting against me, her pussy moist and steaming. I rubbed her clit as she sighed and laid her head back against my shoulder.
“What a hot little fuck toy,” I grinned.
I eased back then pulled her shorts down. She had no panties beneath, and groaned as Mark eyed her naked slit.
“Shaved slit,” I grinned. “Nice, huh?”
Mark dropped to his knees in front of her, his fingers stroking her slit. He peeled it open and began to tongue her cunt cleft as she gasped and whimpered and started humping in wild pleasure. She came in less than a minute.
Mark and me took turns with her, and joined in together. We took her on all fours, with him fucking her pussy and me fucking her mouth. Then she climbed on my cock while Mark fucked her up the ass. She loved it, and came repeatedly.
Over the next week I brought other guys over, one, two, even four, and Gwen danced for us, jerked off for us then milked our cocks dry.
Finally, I brought Peter over. I had warned her beforehand that Peter was someone I wanted her to work especially hard to please, and that, unlike the other guys I’d brought over, this one would be more than straight sex.
I had gotten Peter over by telling him something about Gwen, not that I’d trained her, not that she was my sister, but that I had a slave who would serve me utterly, a gorgeous young nymphet who would obey my every wish.
She greeted us in shackles, on her knees, and licked our shoes as we stood together over her. Peter was extremely excited from the first sight of gorgeous Gwen, and his cock bulged as she slid her face up his thighs and undid his pants.
I let her blow him there on her knees, swallowing his juice, then put her through her paces for him, changing positions rapidly, begging, jerking off with her fingers and a dildo.
Then, as the final act, I made her assume the position, with her hands behind her head and her back arched, and used the cane on her breasts, then on her pussy, making her come.
Peter was so hot after witnessing this he jumped atop her and fucked her wildly for half a minute before dumping his juice into her pussy.
I then placed her against the wall, shackled her wrists above her head, put the hood over her head, and began to talk to Peter about how I might, for the right price, be able to find him a girl similar to Gwen.
Both of us talked around the idea of where such a girl would come from, of whether or not she would be willing to do as Gwen did, or whether she’d be forced to.
Since I told him it would take me about a month to train such a girl I think he had no doubts she would be an unwilling captive, at least at first. I don’t think he wanted to know, though, just so long as the girl would be as obedient and beautiful as Gwen was.
“Describe to me your perfect slave,” I said.
He looked at Gwen, licking his lips. “That one comes pretty close,” he said.
“She’s not for sale. She’s… special.”
“Well, one just like her, maybe bigger breasts, and a redhead, a natural redhead, without the shaved slit. That’s attractive, mind you, but… I want to see her red fur.”
I nodded.
“Big, big nipples,” he said, “Pierced, with rings in them, and a ring in her clit. Big blue eyes, but stupid, real dumb, and obedient like her.”
“I think I can find such a girl,” I said.
“I’ll give you… ten thousand.”
I laughed. “Twenty.”
“How much do you spend on whores now, Pete? I mean, you hire them every week, and what do they charge? A thousand bucks a pop? Two? More?”
“How much?” he asked.
“A hundred grand. That’s a bargain. It’s no more than you spend in a year, and it’s chump change to you anyway.”
“That’s a lot of money for pussy,” he said doubtfully.
“Bull. You know how much a street corner hooker pulls in a year? Maybe two hundred grand. Sex is expensive, my man.”
“Done then, on one condition.”
“What?”
“I keep her until you bring my own.”
“No way.”
“Then it’s no deal.”
“Come on, Pete. This one is my personal slave. She’s not for sale or rent.”
“I’ll give you an extra twenty grand.” I looked at Gwen, licking my lips, considering.
“I have to have her back.”
“Of course.”
“Unharmed,” I said firmly. “No scars, no broken limbs, no burns, nothing different than she is now.”
“Absolutely.”
“All right.”
We shook hands, and he looked at Gwen possessively.
“I’ll deliver her to your place this evening.”
“Why can’t I take her with me?”
“Because I have to take care of some things and talk with her before she goes.”
“All right,” he said reluctantly.
“Just have the check waiting for me.”
He left and I went over to Gwen. She hadn’t heard anything because the hood was thickly padded over her ears. I stroked her body, sliding my fingers up and down her slit. She humped up at me eagerly.
I was gonna miss the little brat.
I untied her, then had her write a letter to my father. It told him she was going to Hollywood to be a porn actress, and that she’d phone him in a month or two, and maybe come back for a visit then. She was excited since she thought she was coming to stay with me.
I had her pack some things then put a couple of suitcases in the trunk of my car. Meanwhile I fetched the tape I’d made over the past week, the tape that had Gwen fucking and sucking various guys jerking off with dildos, and dancing her lewd dances. I figured dad and mom would find it… interesting.
Then I shackled her again and sat her down.
“Peter, the guy who was here today?”
She nodded.
“He wants to buy you.”
“Bu… buy me?” she asked in confusion.
“That’s right. He wants to buy you as his slave girl. He offered me a great deal of money for you. I said no. However, we made a deal. You’re going to stay with him for a month while I get another girl for him. Then he’s going to pay me a huge amount of money and then you’ll come and live with me.”
“But… but I don’t want to live with him, Michael,” she whimpered. “I love you.”
“I love you too, fuck toy, but I need the money. He’s offering me over a hundred thousand dollars.”
Her eyes opened wide and she mouthed the amount.
“He’s incredibly rich, and lives in a big mansion. All you have to do is be his slut slave fuck toy for the month, then you can come and stay with me.”
“But… but when will I see you?” she whined.
“Not for another month. But don’t worry, he’ll be a good master for you. You really turn him on. Just obey him like you would me, or I’ll whip the shit out of you when I get you back.”
She didn’t like it, but she clearly didn’t know how to deny me, and I didn’t ask her permission. I put a rain cape over her and put her in the car then drove to Peter’s mansion. He buzzed me through the gate, and I drove up the long, winding driveway.
“Some day I’ll have a place like this,” I said to her.
We stopped in front of the front door and I got out, then went around to the other door and pulled Gwen out. She was naked under the cape, and stepped gingerly on the pavement as I led her to the stairs, then up them to the front door.
I rang the bell and a bald guy in a butler’s outfit answered.
“Uh, is Mr. Martin in?”
“This way, sir,” he said.
I led Gwen in and the guy closed the door behind us then led us to a huge living-room where Peter was sitting in front of a fireplace. He stood up when we arrived.
“Ahh, I’m so glad you finally got here,” he smiled. “I’ve been eagerly looking forward to this.”
He smiled at Gwen.
I gestured towards the butler.
“Don’t mind Jerome,” Peter grinned. “Nothing bothers him. Does it, Jerome?”
“Nothing, sir,” Jerome said, face blank. Peter removed Gwen’s rain cape and sighed in delight at her lush young body.
“Is this something, Jerome?” he exulted. “Look at this? Isn’t she gorgeous?”
“Yes, sir. Quite,” Jerome said, face as blank as though Peter had shown him a new watch, or couch or rug.
Gwen looked a little embarrassed, but knew better than to try to hide herself as Peter groped her breasts with heavy hands. “There’s your check,” he said, motioning to a nearby table.
I went and picked it up, whistling at all those zeros. “Okay,” I said. “Remember, nothing permanent.”
“Of course,” Peter said impatiently.
Gwen gave me a pitiful look as I walked away.
I waved to her, said to be good, then closed the front door behind me and drove off.
I had gotten Gwen’s list of girls from her, but none really matched what Peter wanted. So I had to spend a week at the beaches and malls before spotting one that would do.
She was a doll, masses of curly red hair and a body with double D breasts and a tight little ass. She was a bit shorter than Gwen, but had a pretty face and blue eyes. She was all but falling out of a tiny bikini when I first spotted her.
Little slut, I thought.
It was fairly easy to grab her, and within a day she was spread-eagled in midair as her body tasted the various whips. I used more pain on her than I had on Gwen. Not only wasn’t she my sister but she was a lot more reluctant than Gwen had been.
I used the bigger electrical machine on her too. I clamped alligator clamps to her nipples and crotch and pumped varying levels of electricity into her body, shattering her nervous system and making her almost unable to speak for hours afterwards.
For the first week she received punishment no matter what, designed to break her mind. She spent all her time bound.
She spent each evening upside down and blindfolded, listing to Gwen’s voice tellin her she was a whore and a fuck toy. Each day she was hung by her wrists and whipped, then shocked.
I raped her long and often, of course, and mauled her fat, beautiful tits all the time. The first time I sodomize her I thought she would faint from shock and horror. I also did something I’d neglected to do with Gwen, teach her deep throating.
I simply chained her on her back with her head hanging over the table, then forced my cock right down her throat. I throat raped her every day for a week. She got the hang of it by then.
After that it was tricks and obedience, using the portable stun gun, the cane, and the little egg which I slipped up her ass.
In a month she was ready, a total fuck toy desperately eager to do anything and everything to please her master. I called Peter and arranged delivery, then brought Tammy over to exchange for Gwen.
I led Tammy into his mansion as I had Gwen, shackled. She wore nothing, though, since I knew Jerome was in on things. Jerome didn’t even blink when he opened the door to us, just stood aside and waved us in.
We found Peter in the living room, and he was clearly pleased at the sight of Tammy.
“Oh ho!” he said gleefully, his hands immediately going to her huge breasts.
He squeezed and mashed them together, then slipped his fingers into the rings and pulled on them, making her wince.
“Looks great,” he said enthusiastically.
“Glad you like it,” I grinned.
He motioned Jerome over. “Take her down to her quarters, Jerome.”
“Yes, sir,” Jerome said in a bored monotone.
“Where’s Gwen?” I asked.
Jerome led her away while Peter turned and went to a nearby table.
“Peter?”
“Uh, there’s uhm, been a slight problem,” he said reluctantly.
“What problem?” I demanded, moving over beside him.
“Uhm, well… uh… here.”
He pushed a check into my hands. It was for a hundred grand.
“What’s this for?”
“Uhm… as I said…”
“I told you I wasn’t going to sell Gwen to you.”
“I uh, realize that, Michael, but unfortunately… I uh, got a little carried away one night. I’m afraid she’s dead.”
I stared at him in shock.
“What?” I growled.
“I didn’t mean it, but… well, I was using the bull whip and… I just couldn’t stop. You know how these things are,” he said, grinning apologetically.
My hands shot out and fastened around his throat, and I jerked him around and slammed him against the wall as he gurgled for air. I lifted him off his feet, and he choked and coughed as he tried to pull my hands free.
“Don’t,” he gasped. “I… erg… uhgggh.”
I was going to kill him. Really I was. But he managed to get a couple of words out that I recognized.
I lowered him to the floor and loosened my grip on his throat.
“What did you say?” I snarled.
“A… alive,” he coughed. “She’s… alive.”
“Where?!”
“D… down… stairs,” he gasped.
I let go of him, throwing him back against the wall.
“Then why’d you tell me she was dead, you ass-hole?”
He massaged his throat, gasping for breath.
“I… I showed… Gwen… to a friend of mine,” he coughed.
“He… wants one too. I… thought I’d… give him… Gwen.”
“Where is she? I want to see her right now!”
“Look,” he gasped, massaging his throat. “How about if I keep her another month while you get another girl. Then I can…”
“No,” I said flatly. “If this guy wants a girl I’ll get him one, but until then he does without.”
Jerome returned and I glared at him.
“I’ll pay you another twenty thousand,” Peter said.
“No. Get her now!”
He sighed and looked at Jerome. “Go and get Gwen,” he said.
Jerome nodded in his bored fashion and disappeared.
“I don’t like people who lie to me, Peter.”
“I didn’t think you’d mind so much,” he said. “I thought you’d be a bit peeved but — I mean… I didn’t think you’d actually care about the little slut.”
“We’ve known each other a long time.”
Jerome returned with Gwen. She was wearing a gold collar and gold shackles. There was a foot long chain linking her ankles together, while her wrists shackles were linked together.
Her eyes widened when she saw me.
“Hello, Gwen,” I grinned.
“Hello, Master,” she gasped.
“I’ve come to take you home.”
She looked at Peter, who sighed and waved his arm.
“Yes, that’s right. You’re leaving, slave.”
“What about that other girl, Peter?”
“A blonde, big tits, young,” he said. “Payment on delivery this time since you’re not leaving a loaner.”
“That’ll be fine,” I said.
I took Gwen and tried to remove the shackles to leave them behind, but couldn’t get them off.
“How do I take off these shackles?”
“You don’t. They’re welded on,” he said. “She’s a slave. Slaves wear shackles.”
I rolled my eyes, then led her out front and put her in my car. I draped a blanket over her to hide her from passing traffic then pulled out.
She didn’t say a word until we passed through Peter’s gates, then she sighed and slumped in her seat.
“Happy to be going home?” I asked.
“Yes, Master.”
“Knock off the Master shit. I don’t need it.”
“Yes, Master. I mean, Michael.”
“How was Peter?”
She trembled briefly.
“He’s mean,” she whispered. “He likes to hurt me. Even when I’m good he hurts me.”
“But you like that.”
“Sometimes,” she said. “But… sometimes he… he does stuff…”
“Like?”
“He… made a dog fuck me,” she squeaked barely above a whisper.
“He what?”
She blushed deeply.
“A dog?”
“A big ugly one.”
“And did you cum?”
“Yes, Michael.” She blushed even deeper, giving me my answer. “And he beat me a lot.”
“Well, you’re with me now, little fuck toy. No more beatings except when you’re bad.”
I drove her into my place and took her to bed. I examined her. There were plenty of marks from recent beatings, even on the soles of her feet, but there was nothing that wouldn’t fade within days.
I made slow love to her, surprised at how happy I was to have her back. I ate her slit out until she sobbed with pleasure, then mounted her and fucked soft and slow, letting her slide her arms over my head as we kissed.
I was nice to her for the next several days. I liked her eager and enthusiastic, not jumpy and frightened. Then we went over hey list and she picked out a blonde she was sure would fill Peter’s needs.
She helped me get the girl, and a week later I started her training. It was easier third time, and I found Gwen a surprising help once the initial beatings were done.
Over the next years I was to sell a number of girls, always carefully screening my clients, always being very selective of the girls I grabbed. It made me a lot of money, and brought both Gwen and me a lot of happiness together.
Gwen was to stay my personal sex toy, she bore me eight kids as well, six girls and two boys. The girls were raised as sex toys, of course, while the boys were taught how to treat women properly. One day they would take over the family business, after all.
“You are a cheap little piece of cunt meat!” I snapped. “You don’t have any will. You do what I order! Do you understand!?”
I gripped her hair and jerked her head back, putting my face inches from hers.
“Do you understand?!”
“Ye… yes,” she gasped.
I slammed my knee up into her bare pussy pad and she grunted explosively, her head falling back again as she began to sob.
I moved behind her, running a hand over her smooth, soft skin, then went to my toys and examined them.
I started with the cane. It hissed through the air each time I swung it, and cracked against her round behind with a satisfying sound and weight. She sobbed and moaned and shook in pain, water still dripping from her hair.
I laid a couple of dozen quick slashes across her ass, then put down the cane and picked up the buggy whip. I lashed her back and buttocks and thigh, mostly for the satisfaction of it. The whip was too light to really cause her the kind of pain I wanted.
I put it aside and picked up the crop, and her screams rose in intensity and desperation as I began whipping her buttocks, then moved slowly upwards, lashing her lower back, then her middle back, then her upper back, raising blows down on her shaking, trashing body as she shrieked and screamed.
I put down the crop when her reactions were starting to dull, when the pain from her back was obscuring the fresh pain of each blow. I went to the box and picked up the bull whip, letting it uncurl and fall to the floor.
My cock was bulging against my pants as I stared at her reddened back and buttocks, crisscrossed with marks of pain. I gave her several minutes while I snapped the whip at a chair on the other side of the room, practicing until it cracked nicely.
It wasn’t too hard once you got the hang of it.
I returned to find her moaning and whimpering, mostly unchanged, her hair still dripping a little.
I positioned myself behind her, looking at her gorgeous body in front, in the mirrors that showed her head dropping down, eyes closed. Well, her eyes were going to open wide in a minute.
I swung the whip forward, and it cracked solidly across her shoulders.
Her head snapped back and she screamed in startled horror, her body shaking and straining violently as an angry red welt appeared among the lighter marks of her back. It ran across her shoulder blades and along her ribs at her side.
I gave her a minute of sobbing moaning pleading to contemplate the next, then swung the whip. Another angry line slashed across her lower back and again she thrashed violently as her screams filled the basement.
The whip lashed out again and again and again, laying lines of fire across her back and buttocks, drawing a wonderful response from her.
I put the whip down then. I had been very careful with it, four the blows were so harsh against her flesh that if the whip lashed across one of the welts already on her it would have cut her and possibly left scars.
I didn’t want any scars on my fuck toy, not on the outside.
There were five thick, dark red welts across her back and buttocks, and that would do for now.
But I wasn’t finished with her punishment, not by a long shot. She would learn that she had to obey me no matter how disgusting she thought the request.
I went to the table. There were two things there I wanted. One was an anal hook. It was like a dildo, only it was about four inches long instead of eight, and it curved sharply like a hook, and had a ring on the end.
The second was a simple cord, which I had tied into the ring.
I went back to the sobbing, moaning girl and gripped her hair, pulling it together behind her head and winding it into a kind of rough braid. I then forced the dildo hook up her anus. It hooked under her tailbone, and I lifted the cord, pulling back on her braid, forcing her head back further and further, until her eyes were facing up at the ceiling.
Then I tied it to the cord and moved around in front of her.
She could no longer even see me, for her head was bound tightly back, looking up at the ceiling behind her.
I picked up the buggy whip first, then slashed it across her belly. She sobbed in pain, but nothing like the shrieks the bull whip had earned. That was okay.
I lashed her belly and thighs, then looked at her taut round breasts, straining outward because of her arched back. I raised the buggy whip and lashed it across her right breast, and she screamed in startled shock and pain.
I whipped her left breast then her right again, then her left, as she sobbed and shook and moaned in pain, straining and writhing as the whip cracked across her taut melons.
Next came the flogger, turning her belly and breasts red as I whipped it down on them. After that came the paddle, which I had not yet used. Finally came the riding crop, and her screams rose as I cracked it across her belly and thighs, then on her quivering breasts.
Her melons bounced and jerked as the crop bit deep, and she shrieked and howled in agony as her fiery breasts were thoroughly beaten.
I dropped the crop, winded, and moved around behind her. I undid the cord binding her hair then shoved her head forward. Her chin dropped onto her chest as she grunted, only barely conscious.
I plucked the hook from her anus then thrust my iron hard boner deep up into her shitter. Quickly and violently I sodomized her, then spewing my load in her guts.
I pulled her down finally, but only to hang her upside from by the ankles again, the hood over her head, and her arms bound behind her. I put the headphones on and left her there for the rest of the day.
I let her down in the late evening, and all she could do at first was lay there, moaning weakly. I got the cane then, and started yelling. Yelling like a drill instructor, cursing her, slashing out with the cane when she didn’t obey quickly.
I had her crawl up the stairs on her belly, had her do tricks, roll over, sit up, beg, jerk off, lick my toes, lick her own toes. At a barked command she crawled this way, or rolled that, or positioned herself in a way I had ordered. Any slight hesitation brought the cane whistling down across her burning back or buttocks or breasts.
Then it was back upstairs to the tub, where she knelt, slack-jawed as I pissed into her mouth. She swallowed it all down dully, then thanked me for it. I washed her roughly, then made her crawl into my room, where I applied a soothing salve to the marks on her body before circling her with rope like a cocoon and leaving her on my bed, gagged.
When I woke the next morning all I had to do was roll her onto her belly. Her legs were bound together, which made for tight going, but I managed to get my cock down into her ass for a quickie.
I pulled her gag free and let her drink my piss. After chugging down my piss I untied her and let her crawl on her belly down the stairs and into the living room.
There, with the aid of the crop, and the promise of food if she did well, she lurched from position to position, now on all fours, ass raised, now on her knees, hands up behind her neck, now on her back, legs back and apart, ass and pussy displayed.
I let her crawl into the kitchen on all fours, then put down a bowl of milk, which she was permitted to drink like a dog. After that I made some light soup, and let her drink that. It didn’t take her long to lick the bowl clean. It had been two days now since her last morsel, after all, and she was starving.
Then as a final reward, I let her kneel and lick a few morsels of bacon and eggs from my fingers. I ate while she knelt at my feet, then let her crawl alongside me upstairs, where I applied more soothing salve to her skin. She was all marked up, after all, and I wanted her soft, unblemished skin back as soon as possible.
I let her rest on a blanket on the floor for a couple of hours, then it was up to perform her tricks again. I barked them out rapid-fire, making her race from one to the next.
I didn’t want to mark her up any more, so I inserted the shock tube, the egg thing, back into her anus. The slightest pause or hesitation in her tricks, or the slightest lack of enthusiasm in her actions and I jabbed the button.
I used the egg on her that day and the next, and hung her by her ankles for long periods of time with the tape playing in her ears.
Then I started treating her nice. I removed the egg, I hugged her a lot, and stroked her hair and kissed her gently, and spoke softly and complimentary to her. This confused her at first, but then she performed even more eagerly, wanting to please me, not wanting me to go back to screaming and yelling at her, not to mention beating her.
I produced some sexy lingerie, and let her put on a fashion show for me, complimenting her on her beautiful or how sensuous and erotic and sexy she was. I began working on her body, stroking it softly as she lay across my lap, or beside me on the sofa.
I tied her spread eagled to my bed and then ate her out, using every trick I knew to finger and stroke and suck and lick her nipples and breasts and crotch to repeated orgasms.
I used the vibrator on her, and other little toys, feathers, brushes, ice cubes, to drive her into orgasmic madness again and again.
Then let her sleep in bed with me, her hands bound gently in front of her, a loose line binding her collar to the bedpost, my arms around her.
Then I caught her doing something wrong. Oh, it was only wrong by my definition, of course. I’d been looking for something to catch her at so I could punish her again.
This happened to be turning on the TV to watch a show without my permission. She was teary eyed when I called her on it, and threw herself at my feet, kissing and licking them and promising to never do it again. She begged me to forgive her, but I told her she had disappointed me terribly.
“I will have to punish you, Gwen,” I said sadly.
“Please, nooooo,” she sobbed. “I won’t do it again, Michaaaeeellll!”
“Let’s go down to the basement.”
She sobbed in misery, and crawled towards the basement.
“Wait,” I ordered. “It might be that you don’t need the full punishment. Maybe, if you have enough discipline, if you really do love me, that…”
“Please! Please!” she gasped. “Anything!”
She kissed my ankles and I backed away.
“Are you strong enough to take your punishment without being tied down?”
“I… Yes,” she gulped.
“If you can, then I won’t have to use the bull whip.”
She shuddered and hugged herself fearfully.
“Or the riding crop. Nor will I have to hit you nearly as many times. Do you think you can be strong?”
“Yes!” she gasped.
I pretended to consider.
“The last time I punished you I hit your behind with the cane twenty times, then with the buggy whip ten times, then with the crop twenty times, then with the bull whip four times.”
She shuddered again.
“Then I used them all on your back. After that I used them all on your belly and thighs and breasts. Except for the bullwhip, which I didn’t use on your front.”
She whimpered slightly.
“This is what I’ll do. Instead of that, I will only use the cane, and I will not hit you more than thirty times in total. But only…” I pointed my finger at her warningly, “... only if you can maintain your position, and not move without permission. If you move, or try to evade the blow, or try to turn away, then you go downstairs and get hung from your wrists.”
“And this time,” I glared. “You’ll get fifty blows across the back with the bullwhip, and fifty more across the breasts. I don’t know if you’ll live through it.”
“I’ll do anything you want,” she begged.
“You will try. Wether you’ll succeeded depends on wether you have learned any discipline in the past week or so. Now strip off your lingerie. Until you prove you deserve to wear them you’ll have no clothes on your slutty little body.”
I went and got the cane, and when I returned she was sitting on her heels, back straight, naked ready for her punishment.
“Dog-fuck,” I said.
She sprang forward onto her hands and knees, spreading her legs and sticking her ass up at me. I moved behind her and examined it. All the marks were gone now except for a couple of fading lines from the bull whip. Her pussy was cleanly shaved, of course.
“Remember, if you try to move or escape your punishment you know what you’ll get.”
“I won’t,” she promised, her voice quivering.
I drew back the cane and slashed it across her upturned ass. She cried out softly, and trembled, but held her position. I lashed it down again, loving the feel of it as it struck into her soft meat. Again she cried out, choking off the sound.
Three more times the cane cracked across that lovely teenage ass, and though she was sobbing weakly she kept her position.
“Heels,” I barked.
She scrambled quickly back and sat her ass down on her heels. She winced and moaned, but ignored the pain as she straightened her back and spread her knees apart.
I moved in front of her.
“Five down, fifteen to go, slut. Think you can take them.”
“I’ll do anything you want, Michael,” she gasped.
“Hands behind your neck. Arch your back. We’ll see just how much discipline you have now.”
She knew what I was aiming for, and sobbed as she threw her head back and brought her hands behind her neck. I poked at her breasts with the cane, then drew it back and cracked it down lightly across her right breast.
She gasped, clenching her teeth, beads of sweat starting to break out on her skin.
I cracked it down on her left breast, just a bit harder.
She let out a low gurgling sob.
I cracked it down on her right breast, harder still, and she cried out in pain, tears spilling from her eyes.
I swung the cane down on her left breast again, still harder.
She jerked and moaned and cried out in pain, but she kept her hands where they were and kept her back arched.
I slashed it down hard now, the sound loud as it cracked into her right breast, then her left, then her right, then her left.
She was sobbing and crying out continuously, her torso swaying and shaking and jerking as the cane descended, swishing through the air and cracking against her meaty orbs, but after five blows to each breast she had managed to hold her position.
I lowered the cane and admired her gorgeous torso, sweating heavily now, her breasts crisscrossed with red lines.
“That’s fifteen. Only five more to go.” I said softly as I kneaded her cherry red breast. “CAT!” I snapped.
It was another of the positions I’d trained her to do. She all but fell down onto her back. Laying on her back Gwen jerked her legs up and pulled them back, until her heels were pressing against her rump. She then grasp both of her ankles with her hands. She lifted her ass up as high as she could while at the same time spreading her knees wide apart. Lastly she pooched out her bald pussy. With her pussycat on display, she laid there, gasping and whimpering, her eyes gazing down at her muti-striped breasts.
“Five more and it’s done,” I said. “If you can hold your position.”
I had to kneel for this final portion of the punishment. I raised the cane, and she stared at it, whimpering, watching it swing down hard, watching it crack directly across her soft, bare pussy mound.
She shrieked in pain, rocking back and forth on her bent spine, howling and sobbing as her head thrashed from side to side. I thought for a minute she was going to unbend, but she managed to keep her arms tightly against the backs of her legs, her hands griping her ankles tightly.
I cracked the cane down onto her pussy mound again, then again, then again, swinging hard.
She howled with each blow, but though she rocked and writhed and her head thrashed alarmingly, she didn’t change her position.
The final blow, as hard as I could, cracking into her soft cunt mound, directly along her cleft so it mashed against her clit.
Another shriek, louder than the others, and more thrashing and shaking, but she held herself in place.
“All done,” I said. “You may thank me now.”
She let her ankles go with a ragged sob, her hand clutching her pussy weakly as she rolled onto her front and crawled to me, licking at my feet and thanking me.
I slid down beside her and carefully and gently licked along her breasts, sliding my tongue along the red lines the cane had made, tonguing and suckling at her nipples, which hardened quickly, then down her body to her pussy.
She whimpered as I touched it, but I was gentle, my tongue soft, sliding soothingly over her clitty as she spread her legs wide. Her cunt was incredibly tender, of course, as were her breasts, but she was such a fucking slut now that she couldn’t resist my tongue, and was soon writhing in climax, whimpering and moaning in joy as my tongue brought her off again and again.
The next time I “caught” her at something, I arranged for it to be with a vibrator buried in her snatch. She was as hot as steam, and on the verge of coming when I “discovered” how she had broken a minor rule.
She was in shackles at the time, and I was calling her my sex slave, my slave girl, and she was getting into it blissfully I made her assume the same positions she had before, only wasn’t quite as heavy with the cane.
This time she obviously got off on it, gasping in both pain and pleasure as I caned her breasts, moaning as she lay back and brought her knees back.
There wasn’t the screaming this time, but instead loud grunts and choked cries of pleasure. I hit her pussy five times, then six, then seven, as she moaned and writhed in delirious passion. On the ninth time she came, screaming in pleasure.
I whipped the cane down as fast as I could then as she rocked and shook and thrashed in orgiastic wonder.
Then when she went limp I dropped atop her and rammed my cock down her whipped pussy, fucking her violently.
Well, all good things had to come to an end. My parents returned home after three weeks. Neither noticed anything amiss, of course. Gwen acted pretty much the way she always had around them. Not that she was around them much, nor that they paid much attention to her when she was.
I still had her on her knees sucking me off every afternoon, of course, but was unhappy with the restrictions my parents’ presence placed on discipline, not to mention on fucking her in the evening.
So I bought a little place just outside of town. It had three things going for it. One, it had no really close neighbors, two, it had a garage, and three, it had a bomb shelter under the basement.
I moved out of the house, leaving Gwen behind for now. I returned every day, of course, fucking her, making her do her tricks, making her jerk off and dance for me, and caning her when she broke some minor rule of mine.
I gave her an assignment, though. She was to think of girls for me to grab, the most beautiful, luscious, adorable girls she knew, ones roughly her own age. She was to go to malls and beaches, and anywhere else she needed to go to find more of these girls, to get to know them, to befriend them.
In the meantime I asked around, and found some kinky, high class clubs in the city where the really rich gathered to do disgusting things. I spent most evenings in them, learning as much as I could about the kinds of the various rich guys there, and what kind of people they were.
I wound up getting to know a rich guy named Peter Martin. He was in his late fifties or early sixties, extremely wealthy, and loved putting the whip to beautiful young women. Of course, everything in the clubs was consensual, so there was a limit to what he could do.
Even the girls who got paid to take abuse would only take so much, and there have always been few enough of the true masochistic whores with dynamite bodies willing to bear great pain for lust. So despite his great wealth, Peter was unsatisfied. I was going to do my best to capitalize on that.
Gwen was wearing a pair of loose shorts and a halter top when I showed up at my parents house. But this time I wasn’t alone. I wanted her to get used to fucking people other than me, to being nude around others. That had been a part of her education I had failed in to date, and something I needed to take care of.
She was a bit confused when I walked in with Mark Phipps I hadn’t told her that I was bringing anyone. As for Mark, I’d promised him a hot, nympho whore who would do anything. I hadn’t told him she was my sister, or anything about how she’d become like she was.
“Hi, Michael,” she said with an anxious smile.
“Hello, gorgeous,” I said.
I walked up to her and slid my arms around her, kissing her deeply, sliding my hands down onto her ass and squeezing.
She was tense and anxious, probably wondering how she should act in front of a stranger. After all, she was my sister, and had to be afraid people would find out about that. And that was quite aside from the ordinary shyness a teenager who’d never exposed herself to anyone but her brother would feel.
I pulled back and slipped my arm around her waist as I turned to Mark.
“What’d I tell you, Mark? Is she gorgeous or not?”
“Oh yeah,” he said, looking her up and down.
Gwen smiled shyly.
“She is one of the most natural little sluts you’ve ever met in your life,” I said. “Maybe the most natural. Plus, she’s got a body to die for. Don’t you, beautiful?”
I slipped around behind her and hugged her, then slid my hands up to cup her breasts.
She stiffened with a gasp, but didn’t say anything. Obviously she had no idea what to do. She didn’t dare refuse me anything, yet was quite embarrassed at being groped in front of a man who was a complete stranger to her.
I mashed her breasts together as she stood there, quivering, then pulled my hands back behind her and untied her halter. Her arms came up for a second, as though to cup her breasts.
“Hands down,” I whispered.
Her hands lowered and I slipped the halter off her, baring her breasts.
“What do you think?”
“Maaaan,” Mark said, eyeing my sister’s gorgeous breasts.
I cupped them and squeezed them.
“These are a set of the finest shaped tits I’ve ever held,” I said. “Give a feel.”
I pulled my hands back and Mark stepped forward, eyeing Gwen uncertainly.
“You don’t mind if Mark squeezes your tits, do you, Gwen,” I said.
“N… no,” she breathed.
Mark reached up and cupped them gently, then squeezed them, lifting them upwards. I looked over her shoulders and watched his fingers squeezing the soft round flesh.
“Nice, huh?”
“Gorgeous,” Mark gulped.
I slid my hands on to her belly then eased one down between her legs, cupping her crotch through her shorts. I rubbed her pussy as Mark squeezed her breasts, then slid my hand down the front of her shorts and over her cunt mound, rubbing my fingers along her slit.
Somewhat to my surprise, rather than being stiff with fear, her body was melting against me, her pussy moist and steaming. I rubbed her clit as she sighed and laid her head back against my shoulder.
“What a hot little fuck toy,” I grinned.
I eased back then pulled her shorts down. She had no panties beneath, and groaned as Mark eyed her naked slit.
“Shaved slit,” I grinned. “Nice, huh?”
Mark dropped to his knees in front of her, his fingers stroking her slit. He peeled it open and began to tongue her cunt cleft as she gasped and whimpered and started humping in wild pleasure. She came in less than a minute.
Mark and me took turns with her, and joined in together. We took her on all fours, with him fucking her pussy and me fucking her mouth. Then she climbed on my cock while Mark fucked her up the ass. She loved it, and came repeatedly.
Over the next week I brought other guys over, one, two, even four, and Gwen danced for us, jerked off for us then milked our cocks dry.
Finally, I brought Peter over. I had warned her beforehand that Peter was someone I wanted her to work especially hard to please, and that, unlike the other guys I’d brought over, this one would be more than straight sex.
I had gotten Peter over by telling him something about Gwen, not that I’d trained her, not that she was my sister, but that I had a slave who would serve me utterly, a gorgeous young nymphet who would obey my every wish.
She greeted us in shackles, on her knees, and licked our shoes as we stood together over her. Peter was extremely excited from the first sight of gorgeous Gwen, and his cock bulged as she slid her face up his thighs and undid his pants.
I let her blow him there on her knees, swallowing his juice, then put her through her paces for him, changing positions rapidly, begging, jerking off with her fingers and a dildo.
Then, as the final act, I made her assume the position, with her hands behind her head and her back arched, and used the cane on her breasts, then on her pussy, making her come.
Peter was so hot after witnessing this he jumped atop her and fucked her wildly for half a minute before dumping his juice into her pussy.
I then placed her against the wall, shackled her wrists above her head, put the hood over her head, and began to talk to Peter about how I might, for the right price, be able to find him a girl similar to Gwen.
Both of us talked around the idea of where such a girl would come from, of whether or not she would be willing to do as Gwen did, or whether she’d be forced to.
Since I told him it would take me about a month to train such a girl I think he had no doubts she would be an unwilling captive, at least at first. I don’t think he wanted to know, though, just so long as the girl would be as obedient and beautiful as Gwen was.
“Describe to me your perfect slave,” I said.
He looked at Gwen, licking his lips. “That one comes pretty close,” he said.
“She’s not for sale. She’s… special.”
“Well, one just like her, maybe bigger breasts, and a redhead, a natural redhead, without the shaved slit. That’s attractive, mind you, but… I want to see her red fur.”
I nodded.
“Big, big nipples,” he said, “Pierced, with rings in them, and a ring in her clit. Big blue eyes, but stupid, real dumb, and obedient like her.”
“I think I can find such a girl,” I said.
“I’ll give you… ten thousand.”
I laughed. “Twenty.”
“How much do you spend on whores now, Pete? I mean, you hire them every week, and what do they charge? A thousand bucks a pop? Two? More?”
“How much?” he asked.
“A hundred grand. That’s a bargain. It’s no more than you spend in a year, and it’s chump change to you anyway.”
“That’s a lot of money for pussy,” he said doubtfully.
“Bull. You know how much a street corner hooker pulls in a year? Maybe two hundred grand. Sex is expensive, my man.”
“Done then, on one condition.”
“What?”
“I keep her until you bring my own.”
“No way.”
“Then it’s no deal.”
“Come on, Pete. This one is my personal slave. She’s not for sale or rent.”
“I’ll give you an extra twenty grand.” I looked at Gwen, licking my lips, considering.
“I have to have her back.”
“Of course.”
“Unharmed,” I said firmly. “No scars, no broken limbs, no burns, nothing different than she is now.”
“Absolutely.”
“All right.”
We shook hands, and he looked at Gwen possessively.
“I’ll deliver her to your place this evening.”
“Why can’t I take her with me?”
“Because I have to take care of some things and talk with her before she goes.”
“All right,” he said reluctantly.
“Just have the check waiting for me.”
He left and I went over to Gwen. She hadn’t heard anything because the hood was thickly padded over her ears. I stroked her body, sliding my fingers up and down her slit. She humped up at me eagerly.
I was gonna miss the little brat.
I untied her, then had her write a letter to my father. It told him she was going to Hollywood to be a porn actress, and that she’d phone him in a month or two, and maybe come back for a visit then. She was excited since she thought she was coming to stay with me.
I had her pack some things then put a couple of suitcases in the trunk of my car. Meanwhile I fetched the tape I’d made over the past week, the tape that had Gwen fucking and sucking various guys jerking off with dildos, and dancing her lewd dances. I figured dad and mom would find it… interesting.
Then I shackled her again and sat her down.
“Peter, the guy who was here today?”
She nodded.
“He wants to buy you.”
“Bu… buy me?” she asked in confusion.
“That’s right. He wants to buy you as his slave girl. He offered me a great deal of money for you. I said no. However, we made a deal. You’re going to stay with him for a month while I get another girl for him. Then he’s going to pay me a huge amount of money and then you’ll come and live with me.”
“But… but I don’t want to live with him, Michael,” she whimpered. “I love you.”
“I love you too, fuck toy, but I need the money. He’s offering me over a hundred thousand dollars.”
Her eyes opened wide and she mouthed the amount.
“He’s incredibly rich, and lives in a big mansion. All you have to do is be his slut slave fuck toy for the month, then you can come and stay with me.”
“But… but when will I see you?” she whined.
“Not for another month. But don’t worry, he’ll be a good master for you. You really turn him on. Just obey him like you would me, or I’ll whip the shit out of you when I get you back.”
She didn’t like it, but she clearly didn’t know how to deny me, and I didn’t ask her permission. I put a rain cape over her and put her in the car then drove to Peter’s mansion. He buzzed me through the gate, and I drove up the long, winding driveway.
“Some day I’ll have a place like this,” I said to her.
We stopped in front of the front door and I got out, then went around to the other door and pulled Gwen out. She was naked under the cape, and stepped gingerly on the pavement as I led her to the stairs, then up them to the front door.
I rang the bell and a bald guy in a butler’s outfit answered.
“Uh, is Mr. Martin in?”
“This way, sir,” he said.
I led Gwen in and the guy closed the door behind us then led us to a huge living-room where Peter was sitting in front of a fireplace. He stood up when we arrived.
“Ahh, I’m so glad you finally got here,” he smiled. “I’ve been eagerly looking forward to this.”
He smiled at Gwen.
I gestured towards the butler.
“Don’t mind Jerome,” Peter grinned. “Nothing bothers him. Does it, Jerome?”
“Nothing, sir,” Jerome said, face blank. Peter removed Gwen’s rain cape and sighed in delight at her lush young body.
“Is this something, Jerome?” he exulted. “Look at this? Isn’t she gorgeous?”
“Yes, sir. Quite,” Jerome said, face as blank as though Peter had shown him a new watch, or couch or rug.
Gwen looked a little embarrassed, but knew better than to try to hide herself as Peter groped her breasts with heavy hands. “There’s your check,” he said, motioning to a nearby table.
I went and picked it up, whistling at all those zeros. “Okay,” I said. “Remember, nothing permanent.”
“Of course,” Peter said impatiently.
Gwen gave me a pitiful look as I walked away.
I waved to her, said to be good, then closed the front door behind me and drove off.
I had gotten Gwen’s list of girls from her, but none really matched what Peter wanted. So I had to spend a week at the beaches and malls before spotting one that would do.
She was a doll, masses of curly red hair and a body with double D breasts and a tight little ass. She was a bit shorter than Gwen, but had a pretty face and blue eyes. She was all but falling out of a tiny bikini when I first spotted her.
Little slut, I thought.
It was fairly easy to grab her, and within a day she was spread-eagled in midair as her body tasted the various whips. I used more pain on her than I had on Gwen. Not only wasn’t she my sister but she was a lot more reluctant than Gwen had been.
I used the bigger electrical machine on her too. I clamped alligator clamps to her nipples and crotch and pumped varying levels of electricity into her body, shattering her nervous system and making her almost unable to speak for hours afterwards.
For the first week she received punishment no matter what, designed to break her mind. She spent all her time bound.
She spent each evening upside down and blindfolded, listing to Gwen’s voice tellin her she was a whore and a fuck toy. Each day she was hung by her wrists and whipped, then shocked.
I raped her long and often, of course, and mauled her fat, beautiful tits all the time. The first time I sodomize her I thought she would faint from shock and horror. I also did something I’d neglected to do with Gwen, teach her deep throating.
I simply chained her on her back with her head hanging over the table, then forced my cock right down her throat. I throat raped her every day for a week. She got the hang of it by then.
After that it was tricks and obedience, using the portable stun gun, the cane, and the little egg which I slipped up her ass.
In a month she was ready, a total fuck toy desperately eager to do anything and everything to please her master. I called Peter and arranged delivery, then brought Tammy over to exchange for Gwen.
I led Tammy into his mansion as I had Gwen, shackled. She wore nothing, though, since I knew Jerome was in on things. Jerome didn’t even blink when he opened the door to us, just stood aside and waved us in.
We found Peter in the living room, and he was clearly pleased at the sight of Tammy.
“Oh ho!” he said gleefully, his hands immediately going to her huge breasts.
He squeezed and mashed them together, then slipped his fingers into the rings and pulled on them, making her wince.
“Looks great,” he said enthusiastically.
“Glad you like it,” I grinned.
He motioned Jerome over. “Take her down to her quarters, Jerome.”
“Yes, sir,” Jerome said in a bored monotone.
“Where’s Gwen?” I asked.
Jerome led her away while Peter turned and went to a nearby table.
“Peter?”
“Uh, there’s uhm, been a slight problem,” he said reluctantly.
“What problem?” I demanded, moving over beside him.
“Uhm, well… uh… here.”
He pushed a check into my hands. It was for a hundred grand.
“What’s this for?”
“Uhm… as I said…”
“I told you I wasn’t going to sell Gwen to you.”
“I uh, realize that, Michael, but unfortunately… I uh, got a little carried away one night. I’m afraid she’s dead.”
I stared at him in shock.
“What?” I growled.
“I didn’t mean it, but… well, I was using the bull whip and… I just couldn’t stop. You know how these things are,” he said, grinning apologetically.
My hands shot out and fastened around his throat, and I jerked him around and slammed him against the wall as he gurgled for air. I lifted him off his feet, and he choked and coughed as he tried to pull my hands free.
“Don’t,” he gasped. “I… erg… uhgggh.”
I was going to kill him. Really I was. But he managed to get a couple of words out that I recognized.
I lowered him to the floor and loosened my grip on his throat.
“What did you say?” I snarled.
“A… alive,” he coughed. “She’s… alive.”
“Where?!”
“D… down… stairs,” he gasped.
I let go of him, throwing him back against the wall.
“Then why’d you tell me she was dead, you ass-hole?”
He massaged his throat, gasping for breath.
“I… I showed… Gwen… to a friend of mine,” he coughed.
“He… wants one too. I… thought I’d… give him… Gwen.”
“Where is she? I want to see her right now!”
“Look,” he gasped, massaging his throat. “How about if I keep her another month while you get another girl. Then I can…”
“No,” I said flatly. “If this guy wants a girl I’ll get him one, but until then he does without.”
Jerome returned and I glared at him.
“I’ll pay you another twenty thousand,” Peter said.
“No. Get her now!”
He sighed and looked at Jerome. “Go and get Gwen,” he said.
Jerome nodded in his bored fashion and disappeared.
“I don’t like people who lie to me, Peter.”
“I didn’t think you’d mind so much,” he said. “I thought you’d be a bit peeved but — I mean… I didn’t think you’d actually care about the little slut.”
“We’ve known each other a long time.”
Jerome returned with Gwen. She was wearing a gold collar and gold shackles. There was a foot long chain linking her ankles together, while her wrists shackles were linked together.
Her eyes widened when she saw me.
“Hello, Gwen,” I grinned.
“Hello, Master,” she gasped.
“I’ve come to take you home.”
She looked at Peter, who sighed and waved his arm.
“Yes, that’s right. You’re leaving, slave.”
“What about that other girl, Peter?”
“A blonde, big tits, young,” he said. “Payment on delivery this time since you’re not leaving a loaner.”
“That’ll be fine,” I said.
I took Gwen and tried to remove the shackles to leave them behind, but couldn’t get them off.
“How do I take off these shackles?”
“You don’t. They’re welded on,” he said. “She’s a slave. Slaves wear shackles.”
I rolled my eyes, then led her out front and put her in my car. I draped a blanket over her to hide her from passing traffic then pulled out.
She didn’t say a word until we passed through Peter’s gates, then she sighed and slumped in her seat.
“Happy to be going home?” I asked.
“Yes, Master.”
“Knock off the Master shit. I don’t need it.”
“Yes, Master. I mean, Michael.”
“How was Peter?”
She trembled briefly.
“He’s mean,” she whispered. “He likes to hurt me. Even when I’m good he hurts me.”
“But you like that.”
“Sometimes,” she said. “But… sometimes he… he does stuff…”
“Like?”
“He… made a dog fuck me,” she squeaked barely above a whisper.
“He what?”
She blushed deeply.
“A dog?”
“A big ugly one.”
“And did you cum?”
“Yes, Michael.” She blushed even deeper, giving me my answer. “And he beat me a lot.”
“Well, you’re with me now, little fuck toy. No more beatings except when you’re bad.”
I drove her into my place and took her to bed. I examined her. There were plenty of marks from recent beatings, even on the soles of her feet, but there was nothing that wouldn’t fade within days.
I made slow love to her, surprised at how happy I was to have her back. I ate her slit out until she sobbed with pleasure, then mounted her and fucked soft and slow, letting her slide her arms over my head as we kissed.
I was nice to her for the next several days. I liked her eager and enthusiastic, not jumpy and frightened. Then we went over hey list and she picked out a blonde she was sure would fill Peter’s needs.
She helped me get the girl, and a week later I started her training. It was easier third time, and I found Gwen a surprising help once the initial beatings were done.
Over the next years I was to sell a number of girls, always carefully screening my clients, always being very selective of the girls I grabbed. It made me a lot of money, and brought both Gwen and me a lot of happiness together.
Gwen was to stay my personal sex toy, she bore me eight kids as well, six girls and two boys. The girls were raised as sex toys, of course, while the boys were taught how to treat women properly. One day they would take over the family business, after all.
No comments:
Post a Comment