Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Jane's Brief Respite Before Mr. Black Holds a Session on Property Rights BDSMerotica

Part Eleven of Dick Pig's Story

The girl sobbed when she realized she couldn't make it back to the room.

No Goddamit! NO! GET UP! She shouted at herself from the depths of her own mind. It was no use, her body had simply reached its limit.

She recalled the agonizing rise to her feet, her aching thigh muscles screaming in protest, before her twitching legs gave out and she fell to the carpeted floor. Numbly she tried to roll over and crawl to the door but her exhausted body refused to move. She lay there for a long moment with her eyes closed, come trickling from between her legs, before she started to cry.

"Quiet 801." The Shopkeeper's voice was oddly subdued as she knelt next to the girl.

"Yes ma'am." The girl whispered hoarsely as she rolled onto her back.

Just a couple minutes to pull it together. Come on Jane. Get your shit together!

She was intensely aware of the woman crouching next to her, like a giant spider ready to suck the life out of whatever was unfortunate enough to get caught in her web. Despite her eyes being closed, the naked girl could practically see the woman grinning down at her.

Desperate to not lose the opportunity to spend the time in the room, the girl struggled to sit up.

"Stop. Stop 801. Just stop for a minute." Something in the woman's tone cut through the haze of the girl's exhausted mind as she felt the Shopkeeper gently pushing her back to the carpet. The woman sounded almost... human. The girl sank back to the carpet, lying on her back with her twitching legs splayed open.

She jerked when she felt the woman's hands touch her quivering right thigh. Cautiously, she opened her eyes.

The Shopkeeper was rubbing the girl's right thigh gently but firmly. There was something on the woman's hands, lotion or oil maybe, and the pressure made the girl gasp. Her hands hands reached involuntarily towards the Shopkeeper but she was able to catch herself in time.

"That was wise 801." The Shopkeeper did not bother looking at her as she continued to massage the knotted muscles of first the girl's right, then her left thigh. The girl moaned and squirmed as the woman's firm grip pushed the knots of pain slowly from her trembling muscles.

"Thank you ma'am. Thank you." The girl moaned her gratitude through clenched teeth but still the woman did not look up. Her face was hidden by the hang of her long ebony hair as she silently kneaded the young girl's muscles. Incredibly, the girl began to get the sense that the Shopkeeper was avoiding her gaze.

So she is human after all. The girl thought to herself. With a trembling hand she reached up and touched the Shopkeeper on the shoulder.

"Thank you ma-..." She never finished her sentence.

Crack! The woman struck the girl like a snake, the open handed slap splatting against the swollen, gooey mess between her legs. The girl howled like an animal and arched her back, digging her heels into the carpet and raising her ass off of the padded surface. Pain roared through her, starting in her sore pussy and rushing through her body like a wildfire.

In a flash the woman was on top of the girl, straddling her hips and leaning so close their noses touched. 801 was gibbering in pain and fear, desperately trying to defeat the laws of physics and melt away into the carpet.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! She thought wildly. I should not have done that. I should not have done that.

"Know your fucking place dick pig. Do not... DO NOT... mistake the fact that I am caring for you as actual care for you. They are very different things." The girl could feel the woman's lips brush hers as the words hissed out of her mouth; her voice a tangled, seething web of anger as she spoke. For a brief moment she imagined the woman would lunge forward and take a bite out of her the same way a mad dog would.

"Yes ma'am. Yes ma'am. Yes ma'am." The girl's voice was quiet, almost a whisper as she fought the urge to scream.

For a long moment the woman said nothing, just pressed down on top of the hapless girl, allowing the tips of their noses to barely touch. With an abrupt movement she rolled off of the girl and stood up. 801 sighed in relief and let her body relax slightly.

Jesus fucking Christ. Jesus.

801 heard the sound of the door opening and raised her head slightly. She could see the raincoat man strolling towards her with a bemused look on his face. He had the demeanor of someone who might have just enjoyed a long stroll through the park, not the look of a man who had recently taken turns on the girl lying in a sticky puddle at his feet.

"Take her to the room. She needs help getting there obviously." The Shopkeeper waved in the girl's direction, voice practically dripping with derision and disgust.

The raincoat man stopped by the girl and reached his hand out, palm up. With a shaking hand, the girl reached up and grasped the man. Her hand felt incredibly small in his and with an effortless tug the man pulled her up and to her feet. With a small cry the girl fell forward against the man's chest. Even leaning on him, it was all she could do to stand.

The raincoat man shifted the girl slightly so she could walk leaning against him, and they made their way slowly to the door. The Shopkeeper was silent as they left and 801 didn't have the nerve to look back. The door closed behind her and mind racing, she limped down the hall.

The walk was interminable. Her knotted thigh muscles were only part of the problem as she realized how sore her pussy was. The men had fucked her for a long time, some of them twice, with nothing but her wetness and their spit for lube. Between her aching cunt and screaming thighs, she could barely make it down the hall.

They stopped once, in a kitchen of sorts, so the girl could be fed. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until she smelled food and her stomach began flip flopping. Wordlessly, the man helped her down to her knees and she was fed and watered out of two silver dog bowls. It was some sort of bland, meatless stew complemented with crisp, cold water. When she first started eating she imagined she could faintly taste the men's salty discharge in the stew, some of the residue she missed still on her chin perhaps.

She was too hungry to care. So much so in fact, that the raincoat man had to stop her from wolfing down the food and choking.

When she was finished, the man helped her to her feet. She could feel some of the stew running down her chin and in between what little cleavage she had. She idly wondered why she wasn't embarrassed but then felt the thin trickle of someone's seed running down her inner thigh.

Oh yes. That. Kind of made the food stains irrelevant.

They walked wordlessly, the girl taking tiny half steps, leaning heavily on the man walking patiently beside her. All she could think about was the room, the shower, the bathtub. The thought of cleaning the mess from between her legs and out of her hair was the only thing that kept her going. One foot, then the next. One foot, then the next.

When they arrived at the room the man opened the door and she staggered into the room. The cool crisp air felt like angels breathing on her naked skin. It was pleasure. It was bliss.

"On your dog bed 801." As he spoke, the man directed her to the small pad at the foot of the bed. With a moan, the girl sank into the soft padding and in seconds drifted into unconsciousness.

She had no idea how long she had been sleeping when she was shaken awake by the raincoat man. Ten minutes? An hour? Two? There was no way to measure time in this place. It was just an endless stream of sex, humiliation, and punishment.

"On your knees. Forehead on the floor. Spread your ass cheeks for me." The man spoke conversationally, casually, as he gave the instructions.

"Yes sir." Groggily, the girl responded, rising to her knees and then leaning forward and resting her forehead on the carpet. Reaching back she spread her ass, waiting patiently for the next command. In a detached sort of way, her mind wondered about the promise the Shopkeeper had made, three hours alone.

What was this about then?

She tensed as she felt something slick and cold on her anus. A sharp cry escaped her as the man pushed just the tip of his lubed finger into her tightly clenched hole.

What the fuck? Her heart started beating wildly.

She had fought to keep her mind from thinking about this possibility although she knew that it would probably happen. She absolutely loathed anal. She had only let two people take her that way. Her first boyfriend, and then only once. And of course, James who wanted to fuck her ass every time they had sex. Even with him, she rarely acquiesced and she shifted uncomfortably at the man's touch.

This is probably not a great time to be doing this raincoat man. She thought to herself.

She didn't know what to do. She was torn between her desire to obey and the desire to give him what she knew to be very relevant information. She felt herself flushing with embarrassment at the prospect of telling the man.

She inhaled sharply as the man slid something into her tight hole. It was quite small, not stretching her at all and she let out a small chirp as she felt the cool liquid flooding the depths of her.

Oh...

She shifted uncomfortably, for some reason feeling more shame in this moment then when she was on her back with her legs wrapped around the man. It was deeply personal, a violation really. As she felt the pressure in her gut mount she exhaled slowly, doing her best to remained relaxed as the raincoat man finished filling her.

She felt the raincoat man slide the tube out of her and stand.

"Stay that way until I say otherwise." He spoke in that same conversational tone of voice as he walked over to the bed and sat down. She could see his shod feet out of the corner of her eye, brown shoes and blue socks she noted with disapproval.

"Yes sir." Her voice was muffled by the carpet and she shifted again. She could feel the pressure in her already, her gut felt heavy with the pent up liquid. She clenched herself tighter and tried to maintain an even pace as she breathed slowly in and out through her mouth.

Her mind raced as she considered what this meant. He was leaving her so it was unlikely he was going to fuck her in the ass. At least right now. She thought grimly to herself. Still, someone was going to or they wouldn't be bothering with this. Her heart sank as she realized that someone could be more than one someone. She remembered the men taking turns on her less than an hour before and she shuddered at the possibilities.

Any thought of panic was being quashed by the pressure building in her gut though. She groaned and swayed slightly as she fought for control.

"Sir?" She said in the meekest voice possible. She didn't want to appear impertinent but she had to believe if she made a mess in this room there would be hell to pay. They would probably let the Shopkeeper skin her alive.

"Hmmmm?" The man seemed distracted as he answered.

"I have to go sir. I have to go to the bathroom sir." She was beet red as she spoke, flushed with the shame and awkwardness of the situation.

"You need to wait twenty minutes. It's been nine. Relax, I'll tell you when you can get up."

Oh my god. Eleven minutes. No way. No way. Her mind panicked at the thought, and she had to force herself to keep her breathing calm and measured. She groaned again, a small mewling cry, as a cramp traced its way through her gut.

As the minutes ticked by, she grew desperate, barely able to control the urge to ask the man how much longer she had. Her forehead was sore from holding position on the carpet and her legs still ached, but both of those things paled in comparison to the crisis she was having with her swollen gut.

It had reached the point where she wasn't sure if she could make it even if the man gave her permission.

Fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck. She thought. This is it. I have to go now, permission or not. As she steeled herself to make a run for it, heart pounding in her chest, the man spoke.

"Twenty minutes it is 801. Feel free."

As he spoke the girl considered rising to her feet but thought better of it. Windmilling her arms and legs wildly she scrambled towards the open bathroom door. The few feet seemed like miles as she felt the pressure in her gut threatening to release with each rise and fall of her knees. The tile tore at her bruised and scraped flesh as she scrambled across the bathroom floor and up onto the toilet.

She groaned audibly as relief flooded through her.

"Weird how personal this moment is, isn't 801?" The man was standing in the doorway of the bathroom as the startled girl looked up.

"Oh my God." The girl covered her beet red face with her hands, shame flooding her now that the crisis was ending. Fucking kill me right now. She thought to herself as the man continued.

"I mean, you sucked my cock right in that shower and yet this... Strange isn't it?" With a chuckle the man slid the door closed, presumably indicating that the girl's three hours were counting down. She heard the exterior door close as well and she began to relax as she finished up her business.

Time to clean up. Three hours! She thought happily as she wiped herself, rose, and walked towards the shower.

She stopped, stunned, as she saw her reflection in the mirror. Her chin and chest were stained from the food she had gulped down like an animal. There was a name, she couldn't make out what it actually read, scrawled across her flat stomach. Her face was a wreck, there was no other word for it. An absolute wreck. Twin riverbeds of mascara streaked her cheeks and she could see where her hair was matted to her head, presumably by someone's thick load of come. She stared wordlessly for a moment at the block letters scrawled across her tits. Despite being reflected backwards in the mirror, she could easily read what it said.

DICKPIG.

After a long moment of simply staring at herself, the girl made her way to the shower.

She took almost two full hours in the shower and bath. The warm water cascading on her tortured flesh was an absolute pleasure rivaled only by the bliss of soaking in the almost scalding bubble bath. She was refreshed from her nap certainly, but there was something about being clean that made one feel energized. Made one feel whole again.

She glanced approvingly at the mirror as she saw the black pen marks had been scrubbed completely from her skin. Her mind drifted to the events of the day as she dried her hair and applied her makeup.

The Shopkeeper, she decided, was insane. She needed a warning label. Something like I AM A HUMAN BOMB stenciled on a shirt that the government mandated she wear. Still. the taste of her, and the way she could pull climax after climax out of the girl... She had to admit there was something compelling there.

And the men... She felt no shame over what she had done. She accepted it. If anything the memory of it excited her. She felt herself growing wet with the memory of their hard bodies on top of hers, relentlessly pounding into her, taking her over and over. Two days ago she would have been horrified, now it was all she could do to keep her hands from between her legs at the thought of it.

She wandered out into the room and found herself waiting there for the second time that day. The morning seemed ages ago, although she had no objective way of knowing exactly how long ago that was. Four hours? Ten? No idea. She mentally shrugged as she stood waiting by the door.

There was a clock of sorts in the room, counting down from 180 minutes. Glancing at it she saw it was mere seconds before someone arrived. Assuming they were punctual, which of course, they would be.

She jumped as she heard the sound of the doorknob turning and reflexively fell to her knees. She fell harder than she expected, her legs still too weak to lower her gently to the floor. Still, she was in position when the door opened and her heart started pounding as she saw who had come to retrieve her.

It was Mr. Black. He smiled as he looked down at the kneeling girl.

"I see you have cleaned yourself up. Stand up so I can see you."

"Yes sir." Obediently, the girl rose and stood, feet apart, arms crossed behind her back, and eyes at the man's feet. Her heart continued to beat wildly as he walked closer.

Mr. Black stepped around the girl, whistling softly to himself as he looked at the marks the Shopkeeper had left on her skin. His hands wandered over her body, gauging her reaction as his fingertips brushed the scarlet and white welts. She inhaled sharply as he slid his hand between her legs, his fingers making sure she was smoothly shaven before sliding between her lips to check how wet she was.

Apparently satisfied with what he found, he turned and walked towards the door.

"Follow." Other than that he said nothing as he left the room.

Taking care to not plummet to the ground this time, the girl lowered her aching body to her hands and knees and began to scramble after the rapidly disappearing man. Concrete floors again as she crawled down the hall, scurrying to catch up. She had stopped trying to figure out exactly where in the complex they were. There was no point. Every room held some sort of mystery, some debasement for her to endure.

What did it matter which one it was?

She managed to keep up with the man, despite his rapid pace, and they arrived at the standard metal door. Despite not specifically trying to keep track of where they were, she was pretty sure they were at the kitchen for some reason. The thought was confirmed as Mr. Black swung the door open and strode inside.

She moved quickly through the door, using the brief window its momentum afforded her to keep from having to push it open. Her stomach growled as she smelled the faint aroma of the stew she had eaten earlier. It must have been a while ago if she was so hungry.

How long did I sleep? She wondered to herself.

There were no bowls however, just a metal table standing in the center of the room. That and the ever present camera. Nothing else save for the standard kitchen stuff - cabinets, sinks, and a gently humming refrigerator.

"Rise." The same flat expressionless voice he always spoke to her in. Nervously, she rose to her feet.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the objects on the table. The first was a paddle, the longer rectangular kind carved from a single piece of wood. The second was some sort of bar with what were obviously restraints on it. They reminded her of thick iron shackles, the kind one would see in an actual dungeon. The last thing was oddly, an apple.

The incongruity of the objects puzzled her, but her eyes kept getting dragged back to the paddle. She didn't want any part of that.

No way.

Focus! She thought to herself. She snapped her attention to the man as he spoke. His voice was, as usual, cool and quiet, the epitome of serenity.

"Dick pig. How crass. I find the nickname distasteful. Your father would be disappointed in you." The man's words took the girl completely by surprise and she found herself blushing as he spoke. Disappointed was an understatement.

"Still, an apt description given your recent achievements, wouldn't you say?" The man looked at her meaningfully as he asked the question. She felt herself blushing harder, the heat rising to her face. Despite his having never touched her sexually, she found herself craving the approval of Mr. Black above all others. His words got to core of the girl in a way no one else at the complex was able to match.

"Yes sir." She kept her voice low and even despite the sting of the man's words. She could see the paddle out of the corner of her eye and she guessed it stung worse.

Much worse.

"There are many challenges during the testing process, most of which you are familiar with. Physical and emotional limits. Intellectual capacity." Again, the meaningful stare before the man continued.

"However, there are some consistent patterns that we have learned to recognize over time. Things we had to learn from the test subjects themselves. The first is the fact that often times, the test subject becomes emotionally attached to one of the testers. We have developed methodologies for dealing with that and it rarely happens anymore. I assume you have no emotional attachment to any of my colleagues?"

"No sir." Again, a profound understatement. The man continued.

"The second is the tendency for the subject to game the system. Everything becomes a quid pro quo. For example, you fuck one of my associates and he lets you sleep on a dog bed. Or use a shower. I could go on but you get the point." His slow careful words belied the tension in the room. She sensed something was coming, and it wasn't going to be good.

"We have methodologies for that as well." He looked at her for a long moment and the girl swallowed nervously. Whether from cold, fatigue, or anxiety the naked girl started to tremble as the man stared at her.

"Get on the table dick pig. On your knees, ass in the air. Place your left cheek on the surface so you are looking at the camera. Extend both of your arms straight back under your stomach so your wrists are aligned with your ankles. Now." Although he had not changed the pitch of his voice there was a finality to the last syllable that made the girl jump.

"Yes sir!" Something was coming and whatever it was, she wanted to make sure she didn't make it worse.

Groaning inwardly, she pulled her aching body on the table and did her best to assume the prescribed position. The cold metal table pulled goosebumps to the surface of her naked body. As she slid her hands back under her body, the man slid the bar under her ankles.

Her suspicion regarding restraints was confirmed as he latched the metal rings around her ankles and her wrists. They fit snugly, not quite painfully, but she was locked firmly in position with her palms facing up from the table. Her wrists and ankles were perfectly aligned by the bar, the thick metal cuffs holding her in place. She had no ability to lower her ass, move her arms, or extend her legs in any direction. The spreader bar had her knees apart, and she could feel the cool air on her pussy. She felt vulnerable, exposed.

She shivered with dread at what was coming.

"What are you dick pig?"

"Property sir. An object sir." Her response was automatic. She barely acknowledged the question mentally before the response flowed smoothly from her lips.

"Correct. You are property."

The girl gasped as Mr. Black deftly slid his index finger into her pussy. A small cry crept from her lips and she reflexively clenched her wet, pink hole on the man's questing digit. She was desperate to grind against the man's probing touch, but she had very little movement available to her due to the steel spreader bar that had her pinned firmly in place.

Her breathing picked up its pace as Mr. Black left his finger inside of her and continued talking.

"And property does not negotiate. It does not make deals. It gets used as desired. It is important you understand this dick pig. Sometimes, you just get put in your place because your owner feels like it. This is the point of your next lesson. Do you understand?" As he finished speaking, the man slid his finger out of her quivering, wet cunt and with a steady motion pushed it insistently up her tight ass.

"Oh my God!" The girl gasped in surprise as the man pushed his finger deep inside of her. The wetness from her cunt eased its passage and she could feel her tight hole spasming around the man's finger. Wordlessly, he slid his finger back out and walked to the head of the table.

"Not wet enough." He said by way of explanation. As he did so, he took his finger and pushed it into the girl's gasping mouth.

"Mmmmph!" The girl was shocked by the sudden movement, and horrified by the idea of his finger moving directly from her ass into her mouth. Her face reddened and only her vulnerable position and newly ingrained desire to please kept her from biting the man.

"Wet. I want it wet dick pig." Obediently, she sucked his finger, making sure to get it as wet as possible.

With a soft plopping sound he pulled his finger out of her mouth and walked back down the table. Moving quickly, he used her spit to lube up her tight ass. The girl grunted, staring into the camera lens, as he slid his finger in and out of her. Her heart was racing now, she had no idea what was happening.

What he was going to do to her.

"Ohhhhh..." A small steady moan was pulled from the girl as she felt something hard press into her tight hole. It wasn't painful, if anything it was much smaller than the tail plug she had romped around the yard in. It had an odd texture though. Bizarre. She was breathing in small hard gasps now.

Mr. Black walked to the head of the table and placed his fingertips gently on her head as he spoke.

"Have you ever heard of figging dick pig?" As he spoke, the man gently pulled the girl's hair back and tucked it behind her ear. She realized he wanted to make sure her face was not obscured, that whoever was watching her, could see the expression on her face.

James. She thought to herself.

"No sir." As she spoke she tried to wiggle her ass back and forth but could barely do so, her lateral movement restricted by the metal bar and cuffs. There was a slight burning sensation now, she could feel it growing around whatever the object the man had slid into her anus.

"It has nothing to do with figs actually. Rather it has to do with the word feaguing, the etymology of which is unknown to me." As he spoke the man picked up the apple and polished it on his sleeve. She could feel the burning growing now, and an unbearable itching as well. Her eyes widened and her hands clenched and unclenched, immobilized by the steel cuffs attached to the bar.

"Ooooooooh GOD sir. It burns sir!" Her voice was cracking as she pleaded with the man. He ignored her and continued.

"Originally the practice involved horses, dick pig. Unscrupulous vendors would lodge a piece of ginger in the poor animal and let the oils in the root seep out and cause an intense burning and itching sensation. It would really vex the animal, causing it to appear more lively and active than it actually was. Do you understand dick pig?"

"Yes SIR! GOD SIR. Please sir!" The girl was begging him now, the burning sensation so intense it was making her toes curl.

"Obviously over the years some creative mind applied the same practice to people and here we find ourselves." He leaned close as he spoke to the now red faced girl.

"I have been told it is much worse when you clench around the ginger root. I urge you to relax as much as possible." Mr. Black spoke in that same calm, maddening tone as the girl whimpered and moaned.

"Siiiiiirrrrrr..." She mewled petulantly as sweat began to dampen her brow.

Mr. Black took the apple and placed it near the girl's mouth.

"Bite it dick pig. Not completely through. I want it lodged in your piggy little mouth." As he spoke, the man pushed the apple towards the girl's gritted teeth. She groaned as the the burning sensation crept deeper inside of her, and tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes. Opening her mouth as wide as she could, she partially bit the apple, lodging the fruit in her mouth.

As she fought the urge to bite through the red orb, the realization of what was happening made her flush with shame. Here she was, trussed up on a table, apple in her mouth. A living caricature of the traditional roasted pig.

DICKPIG. She thought to herself. She had to hand it to Mr. Black, the man new how to degrade a woman.

"Mmmmmph!" She was already drooling around the sides of the apple as she fought to pull oxygen around the bulbous fruit. She struggled mightily to keep from biting through it, and it was all she could do to keep from clenching her tight hole on the ginger root. The burning sensation raged in her now, and her hands clawed wildly and ineffectively in a futile struggle for release.

Her eyes widened when she saw Mr. Black pick the paddle up off of the table.

"Pleathe thir! Pleathe! Thir Pleathe!" The panicking girl begged the man, her eyes rolling wildly as he walked out of her sight and towards the back of the table.

"Time to learn another lesson dick pig. Sometimes there is nothing you can do but take it. Life as property isn't always about punishment and reward. Sometimes it's just about being owned." As the man spoke he laid a firm stroke on the girl's upturned ass. She screamed and would have surged forward and off the table but for the spreader bar.

"FUUUUUCTH!" The naked girl's scream was raw, guttural, almost animalistic in its intensity. Her toes curled and uncurled and her fingers grasped wildly, finding no purchase in the air. The man continued to speak in the same, soothing voice and the girl tensed for another blow.

"I am going to give you fifty of these dick pig. Fifty strokes. You are going to count for me. If you drop the apple, we will start over. If you bite through the apple, we will start over. If you forget to count, we will start over. Do you understand?" The girl's eyes shut tightly and she moaned in fear and pain as she realized what was coming. Still, she was able to answer the man.

"Yeth thir!" As she babbled her answer, the man laid a stroke on her ass that sent a shock wave of pain coursing through her body. She screamed into the apple, the veins on her throat bulging with the effort.

"Oneth thir!" The girl began to count.

With a sharp crack! the man laid another stroke on the girl. This one pulled another scream of agony from her immobilized form and she began crying and shuddering from the intense pain. The burning was so intense she felt like someone had pushed a hot iron bar deep inside of her. She didn't know what was worse, the burning or the brutal paddling the man was administering.

"Tooth thir!" The girl managed to grunt the count through the haze of pain clouding her mind. Her face and neck were beet red, the thick arteries bulging with the effort it took for her to maintain her calm through the pain of the brutal strokes.

She couldn't imagine forty eight more of them.

Another blow and another tortured scream. Snot bubbles formed on her nostrils as she wildly sucked air in and out of her nose, unable to draw enough oxygen from her stoppered mouth.

"Three thir!"

Again and again Mr. Black methodically paddled the screaming crying girl. Her agonized cries echoed off of the cold kitchen walls as she suffered at the hands of the man and the seeping oils of the ginger root. The table around her mouth was a puddle of tears, drool, and gooey discharge from her nose as the girl's shuddering heaving form wailed in agony.

"Twenthy fiveth thir!" The girl screamed at the halfway point. She was in real distress now, almost delirious with the overwhelming barrage of sensations coursing through her pain wracked body. Still, Mr. Black calmly continued.

"Twenthy thix thir!"

"Twenthy theven thir!"

At the thirty eighth stroke the girl found herself once again disconnecting from the situation, her mind fleeing to a distant place while her body endured the harsh reality of the moment. The punishment proceeded quickly from that point, each blow eliciting an automatic response from the girl.

Mr. Black laid the final five blows in rapid succession, causing the girl to scream out the count quickly, one after the next.

"Thorty thix! Thorty theven! Thorty eigth! Thorty ninth! THIFTY!" The girls body was a quivering mass of flesh by the time the final blow landed. Dimly she heard Mr. Black lay the paddle on the metal surface and walk around to the head of the table. Reaching down, he pulled the apple from the girl's mouth. It was a slick with the drool, tears, and snot that had poured from the unfortunate girl's orifices. Grimacing, the man tossed the apple into the sink. It made a dull thud when it hit.

The girl was whimpering and staring into the camera. Other than her gentle mewling sounds, the room was deafeningly quiet.

"Well done dick pig. How are you feeling?"

"It hurts sir. It still burns." Her voice was calm, detached, almost serene as she answered.

"Would you like me to take it out now?" Mr. Black's tone matched the girl's, equally calm, equally collected.

"Yes sir. It burns sir."

The sound of the man's footsteps echoed in the room as he walked towards the back of the table. A small grunt escaped the girl as he pulled the root from her burning anus. She could feel her violated orifice reflexively opening and closing, spasming from the effects of the ginger oil. The air felt cool, almost cold as it wafted against her burning, itching hole.

She felt the steel manacles on the bar move and dimly realized that the man was releasing her from its steely grip. As he pulled the bar out from under her wrists and ankles, the girl allowed her knees to slide down the table until she was laying flat on her stomach. The burning itching sensation was starting to push its way back into her consciousness and she moaned with the intensity of it.

"I have something for you." As he spoke, Mr. Black showed the girl a metal butt plug. She could see the faint beads of condensation on the shiny surface. It looked cool, not cold, but cool. Her eyes widened at the sight of it.

"Please sir. Please put it in me." The girls lips trembled as she spoke, tears running down her face as looked imploringly up at the man.

"Spread yourself then."

"Yes sir." On command the girl reached back and spread her ass cheeks. She grunted in pain as the man pushed the tapered plug slowly but firmly into her clenching and unclenching ass.

"God..." She exhaled deeply as the metal object slid into her burning hole, the cool metal providing an almost immediate relief for the twitching, quivering girl.

"What are you dick pig?" The man asked.

"Property sir. An object." The response was immediate, calm and collected.

"What can an owner do with their property?"

"Anything they want sir."

"Good answer. I see you get the point." Patting the girl gently on the head Mr. Black continued.

"Lay here and collect yourself. Someone will be here to retrieve you shortly." Without another word the man turned, and left the room.

The door shut silently behind him.



Submitted May 20, 2015 at 11:10PM by iheartpainsluts http://ift.tt/1FBnnYc BDSMerotica

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