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Sex Slave For A Day


Whipped In Cellar

Lucy was standing in front of me.

She was wearing black thigh length PVC boots, a black PVC basque which supported but did not cover her breasts, black gloves which ended above her elbows, black studded collar around her neck, a little black mask across her eyes and a pair of PVC knickers which consisted of a waistband and a narrow strip of material not even wide enough to cover her pubic hair. She had gathered the crotch so that it ran like a string between her inner cunt lips, broadening slightly to cover her clit, so tight that her clit bulged through the material.

Lucy was standing with her fists clenched on her waist. In her right hand she held a large coiled whip. In her left hand was a leather collar and lead.

My mouth must have dropped open in surprise. I just stared at her.

"Lucy," I said. "I'm not sure I'm up to this. I'm shagged out."

"Quiet!" she shouted.

I shut up.

"Now we'll see how slaves should really be treated. Stand up, turn around."

Reluctantly I stood up and turned my back to her. She fixed the collar around my neck.

"Now come with me."

"Alright," I said shaking my head. "But I really don't feel like it." I thought I should go along with her for a while to show willing, then I'd be off. How ironic that when she finally dressed close to my fantasy all I wanted to do was go home and have a cup of cocoa.

She led me down to the cellar. Hanging from the two rings in the middle of the ceiling there were now two manacles. And attached to fixing points in the floor were two more.

"Oh no, come on Lucy. I'm worn out. Some other time? Please?"

"Come on," she said, stepping out of her dominatrix role. "Just for a bit?"

How could I refuse? "OK then," I said, but without enthusiasm.

She fixed the manacles around my wrists, my hands hanging just above my head.. The ankle chains were about a foot long, but not quite long enough for me to be able to put my feet together. I was thus restrained right in the middle of the room.

Lucy stood back and looked at me. She walked around me. The mirrored wall was to my right. I watched her in that.

"Hmm, now that's what a slave should look like." She stood in front of me again and tried to crack the whip, but it hit the ceiling.

"Hey, careful with that thing," I said.

"Quiet slave," she said. She circled around me once more. She swung the whip so that it coiled around my waist, its end coming to rest just above my pubes.

"Hey, hey, hey, watch it with that!"

She didn't say anything.

She had brought her box of things down here into the cellar. She dropped the whip into the box, picked up her cat o'twenty tails and stood beside me. Then she brought the cat down hard across my bottom.

It may only have been made of light strips of leather, but it hurt.

"Ouch. Come on Lucy, that's enough, let me out now."

She stood in front of me and shook her head.

"You haven't got it yet, have you?" she said.

"Got what?"

"We're not playing now."

"Hmm?"

She started to walk out of the cellar.

"Hey, where are you going?" I said.

She didn't answer, she just flounced up the stairs and was gone.

While she was out I tried to slip out of the shackles but they were much too tight for that.

Lucy reappeared carrying a glass and a newly opened bottle of wine. She poured herself some and stood in front of me drinking it, her feet wide apart.

She put the glass down on the floor and picked up the cane. I strained at my bonds.

She went behind me and poked the cane through my legs, prodding my balls, flicking my cock as Gloria had done.

"You liked my lezzie friend Gloria, didn't you?" she said. "Gloria turned you on when she did this, didn't she?" Lucy struck me across the bottom with the cane.

"Ouch, that hurt! I really haven't got the energy for this."

Then thwack gain, not across my bottom this time but across my back, just below the shoulder blades.

"Yeow! Bloody hell, Lucy, that wasn't funny."

"If you complain, I do it harder."

"Come on, I..." but I saw her raise the cane threateningly, so I didn't finish the sentence. I realised there wasn't much I could do other than play along with her

She tapped the cane across my chest, hitting my nipples. When I didn't wince she did it again, harder.

She dropped the cane, picked up her glass of wine and drank. With her other hand she pulled upwards on the waistband of her knickers, pulling the crotch up into her crack, pulling the material more tightly against her clit.

"I'm gong to drink this bottle of wine," he started slowly, "then you're going to lie on that mat and I'm going to stand over you and I'm going to piss all over you. Slave."

"No you're not," I said. "Now please, undo me, now. I've had enough. Really."

Suddenly she darted forward and slapped me.

"Shut up!" she yelled into my face.

I was shocked. For a moment I just stared wide eyed at her.

"Lucy," I started hesitantly, "please..."

I was going to ask her what the hell had come over her but she was in no mood to listen nor to stop. She picked up the cane and whack, whack, whack hit me on the side of my thighs.

Maybe it was because she hit me so hard, maybe I was just very tired, perhaps it was the surprise of her lashing out like that, but whatever the reason I momentarily lost control of my bladder. A small jet of pee splashed down onto the floor.

"You disgusting little shit," she snarled. She drained her wine glass then held it under my cock. "Fill it, fill it!" she shouted at me, her face only inches from mine.

I wanted to tell her I wasn't going to, but in the state she was in I didn't risk it. I peed a little into her glass, but once in flow I couldn't stop and it overflowed onto her hand.

"You dirty, dirty little shit," she said. She took a step back then threw the glass of piss over me. Immediately, she filled the glass with wine and drank.

What had come over her? This was simply not the Lucy I knew. I began to feel a little afraid. I was unsure of her, of what she might do. And I was helpless, unable to escape or resist.

Lucy picked up a string of wooden beads. She went behind me and tapped the insides of my thighs with the cane so that I parted my legs wider. She started to push the string of beads up my arse.

"That hurts," I said.

Then, swish! She cracked the cane across my bottom again.

"Every time you utter a sound," he was speaking slowly and deliberately, almost whispering into my ear, "every time you yelp or complain, every time you piss me off you'll get this..." And by way of demonstration she stood back and thwacked me again. Then she whispered: "So fucking, shitting, cunting, buggering bloody well keep quiet."

And with that she shoved a finger up my arse pushing the string of beads painfully far into me.

She paused for a glug of wine and a clit rubbing pull on her PVC knickers.

Hanging down my back from my collar was the long leather lead. It reached my knees. Lucy pulled its end forwards through my legs and pulled upwards so that it went into the cleft of my arse. She pulled it up tight beside my balls then wrapped it round the base of my cock and my balls and tied it so that it squeezed them away from my body.

She picked up the cat o'twenty. She hit the side of my body with it. She walked around me striking every part of me now, my legs, back, my front. Even my balls and my cock were not spared. I was in pain but trying not to show it or complain lest this anger her further.

Even though I wasn't shouting and complaining she must have known she was hurting me. But she did not care.

Lucy got onto the exercise bicycle and began to pedal. She was directly in front of me, facing me, smiling at me. She was sticking her bottom out behind her and I could see that she was pressing and moving her clitty against the saddle as she peddled up and down.

She caressed her nipples. She seemed suffused with pleasure, her face was aglow. I hung there limply in front of her.

She dismounted and crossed to me. She reached out and pinched both of my nipples so hard that I cried out in pain.

Her hand went for my imprisoned balls. I used all my freedom of movement to get out of the way. But she simply put a hand to my chest and pushed me hard back so that my wrists and ankles strained at their shackles. Then she cupped my balls. I closed my eyes for the pain that was to come. But it did not. Instead she fondled my balls, then held my cock and kneaded it, trying to induce an erection. But it would not rise.

She moved behind me. With one hand she fondled my buttocks, reaching round with the other to fondle my cock. Then she pulled the string of beads slowly out of my arsehole, bead by bead popping out past the leather strap that ran from my balls via my arse crack up my back and to my collar.

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