##### WARNING #####
(MF, M dom, bd) The following contains material of a sexually explicit nature. Do not read any further if you are under the legal age in the state/country in which you reside. This story is meant for ADULTS ONLY and is a work of fiction. If you’re not of legal age EXIT NOW.

COPYRIGHT 1999. As the authors of the following story, we claim all rights in accordance with international copyright laws. These rights are claimed legally by us under the pseudonyms of Mark and Debs. All rights are reserved, including the reproduction of it in any form on the net or elsewhere (except ASSTR) without the written permission of the copyright owners, who may be contacted by e-mailing nexuswilson@hotmail.com

Mark
Kneeling at the front door, just clear of the doormat, I wonder yet again whether I have made a horrible mistake. I have carried out the instructions to the last detail. I am naked and facing away from the door, which is unlatched and will open with the slightest push from the hall outside. My blindfold is in position and I can see absolutely nothing. I know the strange collection of accessories he has requested are waiting in the specified places. I have been here 10 minutes now and my knees are starting to ache. I feel incredibly vulnerable, but my body is excited as never before, like being high on some sort of stimulating drug, my nerves ready to overload me with a mass of confused signals at the slightest input to my system. The combination of the cool air here in the hall and the excitement of anticipation has my nipples erect and I can feel that my pussy lips are engorged and swollen between my widely parted thighs, which are also starting to ache a little. I am just contemplating moving to a comfier position until he arrives when I here steps on the stairs outside. They are heavy, confident steps of a man who knows where he is going. He strides purposefully across the landing and I feel panic suddenly rise. Maybe it is not him, it could be anyone. I have few visitors but if one should happen by in this particular half hour it would hardly rate as the greatest coincidence of all time, would it. In a way that reminds me of tales of peoples lives flashing by their eyes in times of dire peril I see a thousand consequences of my foolishness in an instant, but it is done now, too late to escape the predicament into which I have put myself, and I seem to be rooted by fear anyway, my mind suddenly overloaded and unable to issue any concerted commands to my quivering limbs. In another instant I hear the sharp rap on the door which causes it to swing open wide, and feel the cool breath of air fall in from the hall over my exposed rear.

Debs
I wait patiently, my ears straining to pick up the slightest hint of movement, but I hear nothing. Panic begins to well up inside me unabated as I fear the next sound. Breathing deeply, I lower myself down further onto my thighs to make myself feel less open but it just makes me more aware of my nakedness and vulnerability. A draught wraps around my trembling body allowing me the knowledge that I am no longer alone and that someone is watching me, assessing me, and determining my fate. My instructions were clear so I am unable to speak, all I can do is wait for the presence to make itself known, and even then I am not sure if I will be able to distinguish who has entered. After what seems like an age of silence footsteps quietly enter the room and come closer, stopping within arms reach of my body. A hand slowly traces across my shoulder, to my neck and then down between my breasts. I can feel hot breath on the back of my neck as the hand begins to massage and the fingers begin to tease and stretch the nipple, sending showers of pleasure through my body. I moan as the nipple responds to the touch and lean back on my hands, lifting my breasts, exposing more of the dark aureole. With my hands so close to each other I unwittingly make it easy for my visitor to clamp my wrists firmly in cold metal and I am too late to free my hands from the grip of handcuffs. I begin to get an idea for what is to follow.

Mark
He moves away and all I can here the confused sounds of movement around and inside the hallway. Something heavy is moved through the doorway and dumped beside me. I realise it is a case as I hear the catches release. Sounds appear to be coming from all directions, he is moving so fast. The door closes and I hear the lock go on. I start as something cold goes around my neck, then relax as he gently lifts my hair clear to fit the collar. It is wide and just tight enough to constrict my breathing very slightly. Once it is on I shake my hair out and hear loose metallic pieces jangle around my neck. A wide padded cuff is secured to my right ankle and then another to the left. Something falls over to my right. Then I can hear and feel a piece of chain being removed from the case and clipped to the two cuffs. A new wave of apprehension rolls over me as one more means of escape from the predicament I have put myself into is removed. Struggling would now be pretty ineffectual and that only leaves screaming for help. I am almost totally in the power of a man I know nothing of except what he has told me over the internet, a situation any sane person would warn against. And yet I can tell by the feeling between my legs that I am turned on at the same time as being afraid. Being blindfolded seems to magnify my other senses and I am unsure which sounds are from here in the hall and which are from outside. The traffic seems louder than usual and I can even hear people talking from somewhere. As something is clipped to my collar I would swear I can hear something moving away to my left. The collar tugs me upward and I dutifully rise, discovering in the process that the chain between my ankles is only about a foot long. He has to help me up. I put quite a lot of weight on his supporting arm which he takes very well and I judge him to be fairly well built. The collar tugs me forward and I hear the lid of the case fall shut as we leave the hall. I walk slowly, for I am both nervous of hitting something and decidedly apprehensive about where we are going and what is about to happen there.

Debs
Walking forward I expect to feel a chill as the door opens but there is none. My bare feet help to guide me across the floors and the sensation of the different surfaces seems heightened, I never realised that thick pile could feel so delicious. My guide says nothing as we continue on through several doors in the large building totally throwing my sense of direction. I have no idea where we are or where I am being taken but part of me doesn’t want to know. Under my feet the floor changes to cold tiles and I realise we are nearing our destination. The chain on my collar tightens and to my surprise my hands are freed and left to hang at my side, I then feel part of his strength as his hands put pressure on my shoulders and force me to my knees. A heavier door opens and the air changes. The chain suddenly snaps tight pulling me further down so, to my humiliation, I now can only crawl on hands and knees. With my ankles still secure I am aware that my arse must be moving quite alarmingly from side to side but can do nothing to stop it. Without warning my nipples begin to harden at the thought of my situation. My knees are grazed as I am dragged like a dog out of the door and over the steps. Now to further my embarrassment and humiliation I can clearly hear other voices and am painfully aware that I can no longer hide within the protection of the building. At least 3 people are watching me as two male and one female voice are clearly discussing my situation. I try to shift my position and pull myself upright only to hear and feel the crack of a whip sear across my open breasts. A hand pushes me back to my knees so although my breasts will be left alone I fear my buttocks will receive the same treatment. My chain rattles as someone loops it round a post and I feel the cold metal against my face but my head cannot move in any direction. Another pair of hands change the chain between my ankles and secures a bar of some sort so I can now no longer close my thighs. I have never felt so helpless, but yet my pussy burns with desire for someone to abuse it. A muffled discussion is followed by a rude invasion of my body as a huge throbbing cock is rammed not in my pussy but in my sensitive arse hole, forcing me to moan. The cock is pumped hard and deep so I can feel the balls rubbing my flesh, but I know this is not all I will have to suffer.....

Mark
As the man uses me I realise I am even more of a submissive slut than I imagined. He has already betrayed all the trust I put in him by breaking the promises made in his e-mails that my first foray into the world of real live bdsm would be with him alone. I feel humiliated by his lack of respect and know I should be annoyed and protesting against the broken promise, but in fact I am revelling in it all. I am being publicly fucked in the arse while chained to a post like a dog for the entertainment of who knows how many people and finding that I hope there are lots of them to see my degradation and that I only want the fucking to end because I am sure something even more demeaning will follow. My sore knees are almost forgotten now as he powers into me and I thrust my arse back up to meet him. He begins to pant with the exertion and I know he is getting close. Suddenly he lurches forward, grabs both of my breasts around my body and squeezes them extremely hard as he pushes into my arse. I groan out loud but on his next stroke into my abused anal passage he elicits a strangled scream by viciously digging all ten fingernails into the flesh of my tits. As I wail I can feel his cock pulsing out its thick load into my bowels. Several voices are shouting out enthusiastic appreciation as he collapses on top of me, his weight pushing me down into the dirt. He lays there panting on me for a few seconds before telling me that now he has exercised his right to having me first for having introduced me to the group the fun can really begin. I wonder exactly what this ‘group’ might be as he withdraws his softening cock and moves away.

Debs
As my blindfold is removed I am finally given the opportunity to look at the gathering in front of me. Some are wearing masks and from their expressions some of the others are clearly in it for more than just fun. Whips and paddles hang from belts and a large chest of toys waits by a wooden cross in the centre of the garden, although to call it a garden is not strictly correct. It vaguely resembles some bizarre sculpture site with various supports, posts and benches situated carefully, some in full sun and some in the shade of the few trees and the tall hedge. There is no sound of traffic, which is no surprise as the conifer hedge would mask out most noise and the building is in a very secluded area. I see that another slave has been secured to the wooden cross at some point during my previous tortures and she is desperately trying to free herself whilst tears stream down her face. Whether she was the one I had heard earlier, I do not know. The sight of her petite figure struggling against her bonds, despite the pain in my arse and tits, begins to arouse me. I have never seen a woman in such a position of degradation before. Gratefully I feel my chains being released and hands roughly pull me to my feet. The feeling slowly began to return to my sore legs and knees and I totter as I try to stand. My knees finally buckle but the chain continues to pull, dragging me painfully across the grass towards the cross to lay behind staring up at the woman’s creamy skinned cheeks. Two pairs of hands lift me and to my surprise a large cane is pressed into my palm. Trembling I grasp what they have in mind but cannot bear to carry it through. I have no intentions of striking this poor girl.

Mark
I drop the cane and hear a gasp from the audience, who have followed and congregated around the bizarre scene. As I stand there shaking a woman in a mask with feathers on it picks up the cane and simply holds it in front of me. Two others move to stand beside her carrying what look like huge tongs with curved pincer jaws. They hold them up without saying anything, and point out the rather blunt tips and the numbered scale across the arms, which I realise will give a reading of how far the jaws have closed. Their actions strike me as similar to airline stewardesses demonstrating the use of a life jacket, except there is no commentary. The cane is offered but I just stare, feeling a little perplexed. Suddenly many strong hands grip me from behind and I struggle, but soon realise it is useless and force myself to relax. As I do the two pairs of tongs are put up to my breasts, each with one tip under the meat and the other above the nipple. They adjust the scales to zero, then stand back and squeeze slowly until I can just see one on the scales. The tips press into my tits about ten millimetres, causing a faintly pleasurable sensation, and my nipples start to harden. Then they remove the tongs, the hands let go, and the cane is offered to me again. I am totally perplexed and just stare from side to side, feeling rather stupid for not understanding what is going on. Then I am grasped again and the tongs are applied, but this time they keep going until I can see the number two and my tits are gripped quite firmly. Once again I am offered the cane. Beyond the three in front of me the girl is hanging limply from her wrists and looking quite abject and desolate, even though I cannot see more than the side of her face. We run through the sequence continually and by the time the pincers are on and showing five I have it well and truly worked out. My nipples are like doorstops and the pleasurable feelings through the flesh of my tits are searing into pain. When I see the six my sex is wet and I am just dying to be touched down there, but I know that will not happen. The pain is exquisite and a tear rolls down my face. I know I could orgasm massively with my tits being held in these devices, but I also know that will not be allowed and that my breasts cannot take six on the tongs scale without damage more severe than the bruising they must already have suffered. As I am released this time I nervously take the proffered cane, knowing that once again I have submitted to their will.

Debs
The girls dark eyes stare at me pleading, begging me to put the cane down but I know that would not be tolerated so I position myself in front of her dropping my gaze to the area between her waist and her knees. Her shaven pussy glistens with the dampness between her legs and her muscles tense as panic begins to take over. I reposition the cane in my sweaty palm and mechanically raise my arm ready to land a blow on the girls flat stomach. The weapon glides easily through the air and lands with a crack across the bare skin but only just leaving a visible sign. The girl whimpers but does not cry out. Again I raise my arm and flick the cane across the area just below her belly button leaving a slightly more defined line. After three more blows I realise, that without thinking, I have applied more force and definite stripes begin to appear and redden. The girl moans louder with each strike causing my own body to respond and I feel my nipples harden and swell. I am horrified to realise I am actually enjoying it. This state of arousal can not be missed and is obviously visible, a mouth suddenly wraps around my nipple and begins to suck and bite on my hard flesh. Hands are placed either side of my face and my chin is forcefully lifted so I have no option but to look straight into her eyes where her fear is open to me. The cane is removed from my hand by a black hooded figure and I watch as it is carefully dragged over the girls breasts and inner thighs pointing the way. I find myself actually excited at the thought of using the cane on such delicate skin and take it firmly back into my hand. I look into her face as I rain blows on each thigh, not allowing the pain to subside between each one, and then begin on her breasts watching them bounce as each crack lands across them. Large welts appear and tears roll down her face as she screams openly each time the cane meets skin. I can almost feel the girls pain with her but know it was only fleeting and will soon end and then it will be my turn.

Mark
I carry on beating the girls breasts, striking from side to side while enjoying the ministrations being lavished upon my own body, until a hand suddenly grabs the cane from my raised hand and my hands are pinned behind me and roughly secured. Looking at the girls breasts and coming down from the high I have been on I realise that I have allowed myself to get a little carried away. I excuse myself by reminding myself that it was my first time, but remember that no-one else here would know that, and the girl who is being released before me is looking none too pleased, despite her obvious arousal. She is quickly gone and I am spun round with my back to her cross. They strap my thighs to the lower diagonals, forcing my legs wide apart, and bend me over at the waist before strapping something large but fairly light above me. Experimentally I push up and find it stops me when my upper body is just above horizontal, but my head will go up further into a recess in what I think must be a fibreglass moulding. The group is watching attentively, including the girl from the cross, whose eye I avoid. I am just getting tired as wide, padded straps are looped below my lower chest and around my neck and then I am pulled up tight against the contraption. It is obviously moulded on a body and is not too uncomfortable, although I can tell that I am not quite a perfect fit in it. As I hang I am quite conscious of my breast swaying beneath me as I breathe. The girl I caned is passed a bunch of plants in a pot and she approaches me, holding them out for me to see that they are stinging nettles. She is close up now and I cannot help meeting her eye as the neck strap holds my head up firmly. She smiles the confidant, leering smile of one who knows retribution is theirs for the taking, and moves the nettles towards my face. Instinctively, I screw my eyes shut and try to push myself back up through the restraint to no avail, but I am immediately aware that my efforts were wasted as I feel the brush of leaves against my dangling breasts. Opening my eyes I see the girl retreating with an amused smile on her face. She squats down to watch as I begin to feel the nettles stinging. I try to control my breathing to stop my breasts swaying through the nettles, but the neck tie is tight and I can only breathe in gasps. Someone starts to probe my pussy from behind and, to my shame, meets very little resistance as I am very wet there once again. The combination of fingers fucking me from behind and my rasping breath makes keeping my breasts still impossible and now they are feeling quite fiery. Suddenly it is all too much and my shame is forgotten as I struggle to increase the sensations I am feeling. It hardly makes any difference to the amount of movement I actually make, but the effort leaves me very short of breath and I feel myself moving up into another gear of sensuality. I know I am close to orgasm and stare wildly at the girl, brazenly letting her know that I can take it, I love it and I am just about to get the ultimate release from what she has done. I am a bitch in heat, gasping for air, performing on cue, but strangely proud, feeling I have overcome the debasement the watching crowd and the girl have heaped upon me. I am on the very verge of coming when, from the corner of my eye, I see proof that I am nowhere near as smart as I feel in my current oxygen starved state.

Debs
I am getting dizzy with the lack of air and do not notice the going of the pot of nettles. My breasts throb as the nettle rash appears over every inch of my swinging flesh but it does not stop the sensations arising in my body. I know I do not have permission to cum and fear the consequences of doing so more than my current situation so I fight to gain control. The finger inside my pussy delves deeper making it almost impossible to do so and I can feel my own juices running down my thighs. The girl again stands before me with a long tube and bag and I know immediately what will happen next so I clench my buttocks to try and stop further humiliation. I have taken everything they have given but the thought of an enema in public horrifies me. The bag of fluid is enormous, more than I could ever take but there is no way I can get out of my restraints. The girl walks slowly behind me gently squeezing the bag stopping half way to allow a small amount to fall between my cheeks. I gasp as the icy water dribbles between my legs. The finger in my cunt is replaced by a huge dildo which is secured firmly in place with hooks on the fibreglass mould. I can feel it rammed hard against my clit making it almost impossible for me to move without it rubbing the tender flesh. Before I have the chance to catch my breath I feel the tube force its way into my arse stretching my raw sphincter yet again. Suddenly I can feel the gush of the enema enter my body. I fight to stop myself from screaming as the ice burns into every crevice, filling my bowels totally. I struggle to hold it all in knowing instinctively that I must, but clenching my buttocks only makes the dildo press harder on my clit. A masked man moves closer and to my horror switches the dildo onto full power sending waves of pleasure through my body. “You may cum now Bitch.” My body quickly builds to a crescendo but I struggle to hold the contents of my bowels. I can hold it no longer. Ripples of pleasure tear at my restrained body as the orgasm explodes within me. I cannot stop the icy water from pouring from my arse. Tears stream down my face as the degradation of being watched make me feel dirty and totally humiliated.

Mark
I sob quietly, tears running from my eyes and falling from the end of my nose, as I am released. For the moment the sexual overtones of the situation are gone and people break away, discussing me and the drama I have been involved in as though it was an act at the theatre. As I am released from the cross and mould they support me just enough to stop me from hurting myself, but still allow me to fall to the ground where I am plastered in cold mud from the dirt mixed with my own anal emission. I move to get up but rough hands push my body and face down into the mess. I look up through my sodden fringe which drips mud down onto my face and see a small group of men and women pointing and laughing at me. I wonder what on earth I have got myself into and if I could possibly go any lower. Although I knew from the start roughly what I was letting myself in for, I never imagined it would be as severe as this. Then I realise that for all my misgivings I am not actually regretting my actions. I ask myself if I could go back would I do it again and, after a moments thought, I know the answer is yes. Would I do it again? Yes. Do I want more? Not right at this moment, I feel spent and need a moment at least to compose my thoughts. A pair of thigh high boots I have not seen previously splash to a halt by my face sending a lump of mud into my right eye. I begin to suspect that I may be getting more whether I like it or not.

Debs
I lay low not daring even to twitch waiting for their next move. The chill from the damp soil begins to seep into my bones. Even with this final degradation I begin to feel myself wanting more. I can hear nothing but my own laboured breathing but still I wait for several minutes, my muscles taught with anticipation. After what seems like an age I realise that I am on my own and that everyone else has slipped away, their entertainment done. Slowly I rise expecting to be proved wrong but as I lift my face my suspicions are correct. They have used me and abused me and now dumped me as an unwanted toy. Sore, dirty and bedraggled I walk across the garden and enter the building but can still hear nothing. I cannot remember much about the inside of the building but after finding several doors locked finally I open a door to see my clothes laid out on a chair and a shower cubical with no curtain in the corner. A piece of paper sits on the top with just one word written on it. Slut. They are right, that is exactly what I am and what I feel and to make it worse I want more. I want to feel the sting of a whip across my breasts and for rough lips to seize my red raw clit but instead I am totally alone. Feeling more like a woman than I have ever felt before I carefully shower. I wonder whether I am truly alone or being watched, and then I dress and with all the dignity I can muster, and walk purposefully out of the building.

The End.

Mark started this project. To start a story or comment e-mail nexuswilson@hotmail.com.
Debs joined to write this story. Debs will communicate with other parties by e-mail at deb5@nightmail.com. There are buttons on this page.