index


Message-ID: <32412asstr$999810602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: - - <ninebol@excite.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
Subject: {ASSM} Make Mine a Double (Mff, bd, blackmail, nc)
Date: Thu,  6 Sep 2001 17:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Make Mine a Double

by Nineball
   
An intern actually noticed the shortages first, and brought them to Bill's
attention immediately. Certain accounts were coming in short. As the CFO, he
arranged it so only he would be examining the affected books. He did not
have enough information to pinpoint where the missing money had gone and he
wanted to get to the bottom of it. After several weeks of probing he
realized just who it was. It was Jean Williams, that gorgeous blonde in
Marketing. Jean was a skinny chick with big tits and a nice round ass. She
was a successful marketer, and had been given a quite generous budget. She
didn't think anyone would notice; double submit this, inflate that. She
looked great and talked a good line, which made her good at her job, but she
was so clumsy in her attempts to cover her deeds, even an intern had seen it
right away. Bill took control of the matter from the intern, telling him
that Bill should monitor the situation. Then at the end of the internship,
the kid went back to college and Bill saw to it that no one but he knew
about the thefts.

An opportunity like this might come along once in a lifetime, let alone
twice to the same guy. So Bill let it go on, watching the size of her
stealing grow. He kept full records of it all, but hidden from others. Jean
started small, but soon became dependent on the additional `income.' She
liked buying fancy clothes, treated herself to a company paid trip to
Mexico, bought a new car. Within a half a year, the offense had grown well
into to felony proportions. Finally Bill decided to act, choosing the Friday
afternoon of the company picnic, knowing that the place would be completely
empty after about five o'clock. He prepared all of the records, assembled
some documents, and set a trap for the pretty girl. If what he had heard
about Jean were true, she would step into his snare with both feet.

Jean got an email requesting a meeting with the corporate controller.
Immediately she was nervous, she was well aware of the possible consequences
of her actions. Bill Evans held quite a bit of power in the company, and
could have her fired without any questions asked. She rearranged her
schedule for the late afternoon meeting. The time made her suspicious. She
had used sex before, mostly to open doors and seal deals. She might have to
use it to get out of a jam this time. She resigned herself to that prospect,
and mentally prepared herself to seduce Mr. Evans. 

When his secretary showed her in, Bill said to the secretary, "Print out the
memo to Jones, then file these reports, Marge" handing her some folders.
"Then you may go home for today."

"Yes, Sir."

That cinched it for Jean. "The jerk figures on screwing me to keep quiet,"
She thought.

"Please sit down, Miss Williams," he said. "We have a very serious matter to
discuss."

Jean sat down and crossed her legs, allowing the hem on her skirt to rise up
her legs unchecked. "I'm not sure what it is you are talking about, Mr.
Evans." She pulled her shoulders back to emphasize her bust, but lowered her
head and pouted her lips innocently. 

"I have uncovered some irregularities in your accounts, Ms. Williams. I am
afraid I must ask for an explanation. As these spreadsheets show, some
rather large amounts of money are missing from accounts under your control.
Do you have an explanation?"

Jean turned on the tears. Men love it when a woman cries. It lets them feel
powerful. "I don't know how it all happened. I had some difficulties with
some bills at home, and decided a little loan wouldn't hurt. I planned to
pay it all back." She blathered on about how she was going through some
tough times, but had turned the corner and it was all getting better. 

Bill appeared sympathetic, but insisted that the money be paid back. Jean
decided to change tactics from tears to sex. "Is there some other way I can
repay the money?" She sat forward on the edge of the chair. She undid the
top button on her blouse, looking squarely into Bill's eyes. You could have
cut the sexual overt undertones with a table knife. "I'm sure I can make it
worth your while."

Bill kept his best poker face on. Sounding crisp and businesslike, "I'm
sorry, Ms. Williams. There is only one remedy that I can consider. You must
pay the entire amount back to the company. You have been a valuable
contributor to our business. If we can correct this mistake, I can be
convinced that you understand the gravity of your actions. I could convince
the rest of management to be forgiving of the theft." He carefully concealed
the fact that under the desk he sported a raging hardon.

Jean popped open two more buttons, her bra was in plain view. She didn't
have the money, it was long gone. "Really, Mr. Evans, Bill, may I call you
Bill? I'm sure we can work something out." She brought a finger to her lips
and traced lazy circles around them.

"I'm sure you are quite charming, Ms. Williams. But I cannot accept this
kind of offer. There is going to be an external audit in three months. I
cannot hide your thefts from them. Perhaps we can arrange to garnish your
wages to make up the amount. Maybe you have some savings? You might be able
to borrow against your retirement account." Bill knew she wouldn't have
anywhere near enough money to pay back the theft. His plan required him to
go through these motions. "Please button your blouse, young lady. Come see
me Monday morning. Be prepared with a plan on how the money will be repaid.
Now I have quite a bit of work to do, if you will excuse me. You may see
yourself out." He opened a folder and began writing notes.

Jean was in shock. No man had ever resisted her advances before. Her offer
had been plain as day, and he had refused. She knew she was in deep trouble.
She stood up and closed her shirt and left without another word. She stopped
by her desk to get her purse and rode the elevator down, staring blankly
ahead, ignoring the other passengers. She was screwed and she knew it. She
began calculating how much money she could scrounge up in a pinch. She had
only a little in savings, plus her retirement fund. She would have to sell
the BMW, and probably borrow from her aunt. This was terrible, how could she
have been so stupid.

"Miss Williams." The front desk guard startled her out of her self-pity.
"Mr. Evans called down. He would like to see you in his office, if you
wouldn't mind."

"Thanks, Tony." She smiled weakly. Maybe he had changed his mind. Maybe her
charms had worked after all. She went by her desk to check her makeup and
put on some bright red lipstick. Right outside his door she opened up the
top button again, then knocked on the door. 

"Come in" she heard, and opened the door.

"Sit down Jean." He didn't sound as sympathetic as before. "No, not there.
Use that stool over there." He pointed to a tall wooden stool. As she walked
across to the chair he had indicated, she saw something that she did not
expect. Next to his desk knelt his redheaded secretary. She was naked, her
knees were wide and her weight was resting on her heels. Marge's head was
bowed down and she did not look up. She had one hand on a breast, kneading
it and the other hand between her legs stroking herself. She humped her
pelvis against her hand and her whole body undulated in time to her
masturbation. 

"What ..." she began to ask.

"Shut up and sit down!" he ordered. 

His command voice penetrated her and she complied. Her legs didn't reach the
floor from the tall stool, which made it uncomfortable, so she crossed them
nervously. A video cart had been wheeled into his office and was right next
to her. 

"There is something you should see. Press play on the VCR." Bill went to the
door and locked it. As the corporate CFO, he knew all the dirt in the whole
corporation. Everyone knew he was balling his secretary, so no one disturbed
him when his door was locked.

Jean started the VCR. The tape showed Mr. Evans sitting at his desk. There
was a knock at the door, and Jean saw herself being ushered in. A hidden
camera had captured the whole thing; Jean admitting to the theft; Jean
offering sex for silence, Bill refusing in a very professional manner, him
suggesting some remedies, her leaving. Jean did not know what to say.

Bill did, "You are in some deep shit now, girl. I have conclusive evidence
of some serious criminal activity on your part, enough to put you in a
federal penitentiary for ten to fifteen years. Do you know what happens to a
beautiful woman like you in prison? Some strong willed dyke will add you to
her prostitution ring and sell your body to the other prisoners. She will
use you as barter with the guards for favors. You will spend week after week
in a straitjacket being raped by guards and fellow prisoners, each day
hoping someone gives you food and water and cleans up your filth. Tattoos,
pierced parts. Believe me, you don't want to go there."

"Please, I'll do anything you want" she broke into real tears this time. "I
don't have the money. I spent it." Jean was looking at Marge, "I suppose you
want me to sleep with you?"

Bill chuckled, "Sleep with me? Oh yes, that and more. Let's get one thing
straight; always refer to me as `Sir.' Got that?"

"Yes, ... Sir."

"Unbutton your blouse."

Jean hesitated, and Bill growled, "Open your shirt or I'll rip it all off
and you will have to go home topless!"

Jean complied. He said, "You see, I own you now, and you will do exactly as
I say. Uncross your legs. ... That's better."

The stool had low rungs and some higher ones. She rested her feet on a lower
one. 

Bill said, "I have several documents I want you to sign. Sign this one
first."

He handed her a clipboard with a multi-page document. She started to read
it.

"I didn't tell you to read it, I said to sign it."

"But I don't know what it says."

"That doesn't matter. You are refusing an order, and you didn't address me
as Sir. That's two infractions of the rules. If you don't sign it right now,
I am walking out of here. You have two seconds!"

Jean looked down at Marge. She was acting like she was not listening, knees
wide, head down, masturbating. Jean flipped to the last page and signed it. 

"Take your shoes off. ... Now, at the bottom of each page by the number is a
line. Sign each page."

Jean complied. Bill took the clipboard and handed it to Marge, speaking to
her for the first time. "Sign the last page. You are a witness."

Marge took the clipboard without looking up, flipped to the last page,
signed and returned it. She resumed her masturbation.

"Jean, dear, you have just signed a detailed confession of your crimes. This
document describes exactly what you did and when. It lists each amount, the
date you stole it, and what you spent the money on."

"No, you can't..."

Smack! Bill slapped Jean hard across the face. "Yes I can! And I did." The
first time Bill had touched her had been a slap. "Say it again. This time
use my proper title."

"Please, Sir, I didn't think it would hurt anybody."

"I will be keeping this and the tape, and this folder of records in a safe
place. If you ever refuse me or displease me, I will turn it all over to the
DA, and you will wind up a prison whore. Here is your own copy to read
later. Take off your nylons." Bill put the signed copy into a large envelope
along with the folder of records and the videotape while Jean removed her
shear stockings.

Bill held out his hand. "Stand up and take off your underwear."

Jean knew she now had no choice. She figured up front she would have to fuck
this creep a couple of times. Surely that would have gotten her out of this
mess. Now things seemed out of control. She cautiously stood, lifted her
skirt, and peeled off her panties, giving them to Bill. 

"When you sit down, flip your skirt off the back of the stool."

When Jean did, the cold hard wood chilled her buns and she momentarily
squirmed. 

Bill spoke to his redhead, "Move over here." Marge scrambled over on all
fours until she was next to the stool, right in front of Jean, and then
returned to her kneeling position as before. 

"Now, put your feet on the top rung of the stool."

Jean slowly lifted her legs up and hooked her feet on the top rung. The
position was awkward and she had to hold onto her knees for balance. Bill
pushed her knees wide. "Keep them apart, like this" he said. Her uncovered
pussy was in plain sight. Jean felt her face get hot as she blushed with
embarrassment and humiliation.

Bill turned the panties inside out and rolled them into a wad with the
crotch panel on the outside. He pressed the panty wad under Marge's nose.
"Look up, Whore." 

Marge looked up at the hairy snatch in front of her. The stink of the
panties filled her senses. She knew well what was in store for her. Bill had
been obsessing over this scene for weeks, describing it in great detail
whenever he fucked her, having her rehearse it over and over. During these
months of gathering evidence against Jean he had been extremely horny, and
he had become quite abusive with her. She too was glad for this day to come.
Maybe Jean would now absorb some of Bill's aggressions.

Marge took the panties and held them against her face, licking the yellow
stain and inhaling deeply. She had licked pussy before. Several times, Bill
had hired some prostitute, making Marge clean out the results of a busy
night's work with her tongue, laughing at her while she did it. Then he made
her wash her mouth out and brush her teeth before sucking him off. For a
while Bill had a sexual relationship with an unusually beautiful woman. He
let her order Marge around and it seemed to help him get into her pants, but
he ended the relationship when he figured out she was more interested in
having Marge's face between her legs than Bills cock. Those were always
transient events, though. Marge knew that Jean was now trapped like she was.
She would be licking Sir's come out of Jean's pussy on a daily basis, for
the foreseeable future. He had been telling her that so often for the last
few weeks that she had begun dreaming it.

Bill took his clothes off, and then began pacing circles around the two
women, his hardon bobbing about. He casually prodded Jean with a finger,
starting with her shoulders, pushing hard enough to disturb her balance. He
moved on to her arms and back, progressing to more intimate areas. As if he
was inspecting a horse for purchase he squeezed her here and there, checked
her body fat, peeled her lips back and examined her teeth. The effect was to
dehumanize her, wear down her defenses.

"Allow me to introduce you, Slut. This cock-sucking whore's name was Marge.
Several years ago I caught her pulling some shenanigans similar to what you
have done, though not quite a serious. That day I confronted her about it,
within moments, she was on her knees giving me a blowjob, a damned good one
too. So good, I decided to keep her. I arranged for her to be assigned as my
secretary, which was actually a demotion. She gave up her apartment to live
with me. Now she gives me at least one blowjob a day and sex any time I
want. She must have been pre-wired for slavery, because it came naturally to
her." 

Sir was right, thought Marge. As a teenager she had entertained some mild
fantasies about herself being treated like a slave. She had even ended some
relationships because the guy was too nice. She had now slipped so deeply
into her role as a slave/servant, she couldn't imagine what it would be like
any other way.

Bill pulled Jean's blouse off her shoulders and dropped it on the floor. He
unsnapped her bra; off it came. She was now only wearing her skirt. He
produced a neck collar and a set of ankle and wrist cuffs, all made of
well-oiled leather. They didn't look new, but well used instead. He
continued his inspection of her body while he buckled them into place

"I was quite honest when I said I cannot hide your theft. There is going to
an external audit that I cannot stop. I can't make $90,000 just appear out
of thin air. That money has to be put back. Have you any suggestions?"

"I - I don't have it. I'm pretty sure I could come up with 30 or 40
thousand, but not 90."

There was a long silence where Bill said nothing. Jean felt horribly exposed
and vulnerable right now. She had stolen money, she had signed a confession,
and now she was sitting on a tall stool spreading her legs for two
strangers. He was just staring at her. Jean looked down at the kneeling
woman who was still licking the wadded panties. Marge kept her eyes
dutifully locked on Jean's snatch and did not look up. Jean watched as
Marge's body stiffened and shuddered, grunting softly, apparently in orgasm.
Marge rested only a moment before she resumed masturbating.

Finally Jean said "What?"

He reached over and gripped a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He
started whit a light pinch that got tighter and tighter. "Stupid slut! How
are you supposed to address me?"

"Ow, ow, Sir! Please, that hurts."

"It's supposed to. Now say it again, the right way. Do you have any
suggestions?"

"I can raise 30 or 40 thousand dollars, Sir, but not 90." Her back and hips
were getting tired, so she tried moving her feet to the lower rungs of the
chair.

"Put you feet back up! Did I say you could relax?"

"But my back is getting tired, Sir, and my tailbone is sore."

"Do you think I give a rat's ass? Put them back up. Now tell me, how are you
going to come up with 90 thousand dollars?" He placed clips from the ankle
cuffs to the top rung of the chair, then regained his grip on her nipple He
was now touching her tits, thighs and labia with the index finger on his
other hand. They were rude, harassing pokes, meant to add to her
humiliation.

"I told you I don't have it. I spent it; it's gone... Sir." She added.

Bill stood in front of her. He glared directly into her eyes and drummed his
fingertip rhythmically on her clitoris. His silence ate at her and the way
he was touching her sex was irritating. His erection was pointed right at
her pussy, one quick hip thrust and he could be in her, all the way in. She
wished he would just get it over with. Tears welled up in her eyes and one
rolled down her cheek.

Bill let go of her nipple and stepped back. "Take your skirt off." 

Jean pulled her skirt off over her head and threw it on the pile of her
other clothes. She was now naked, spread, sobbing, broken. Yet in the midst
of it all, she knew she was excited, too. Her labia were now puckering out,
flushing with blood. Her vagina was lubricating, preparing itself, for it
knew it would be receiving a cock soon.

Bill retrieved an envelope from his desk. From it he pulled a thick stack of
dollars and fanned it for Jean to see. "This is the entire amount; 92,378
dollars. Do you want me to put it back? Make your crime less visible?"

"And what do I have to do in return, Sir?" arrange 

"Sign this." He held up another stapled document.

"What does it say, Sir?"

He got right in her face, growling, glaring. He put one hand behind her
neck, fingers laced through her hair, and used his grip to twist her head
back. She could smell whatever he had for lunch on his breath, the head of
his cock was pressed against her clit. She could feel it throbbing. "It's a
loan agreement. Sign it, or go to jail. You choose. Right now."

Click. She relented, signed the document.

Bill backed off. He had Marge cosign the document. He tossed the papers onto
the desk. Grabbing Marge's head, he pulled her face into his crotch. She
automatically began licking his balls with open mouthed, energetic strokes.
One hand helped hold them while she licked. Her other hand stroked
rhythmically up and down across her pussy, her middle finger was inside her.


"You will read your copy of that document later. For now, let me give you
the short version. I have loaned you the full amount to hide your criminal
activity. It is a permanent loan. You will never pay back the principle of
the loan. You must, however, pay me interest on the loan. That makes you my
indentured servant. You will pay me with services. The contract does not
limit what services will be performed. It leaves it up to me to determine
what you will do, allowing me complete control. No type of activity is
excluded. You will cook my meals, clean my house, and fuck me without
hesitation. You will wear whatever clothes I say, groom yourself according
to my instructions, and entertain me by performing whatever act I say with
whomever I choose. Just like Whore here, you are now my sex slave, my
private slut. Care to comment on that, Slut?"

"I am not a slut, Sir" is all she could manage.

"You do what I tell you to do, and you are what I say you are. I will call
you Jean in public, but your real name is Slut. As soon as you realize what
a slut your really are, you'll actually like being called one." He pulled
Marge's lips away from his balls. "How `bout it, Marge. Do you like it when
I fuck you in the ass and call you a Whore?"

"God, yes, Sir! Your slave loves to take you up her ass."

"And what are you?"

"Your slave, Sir, your private whore."

He pulled her face back into his crotch and Marge resumed scrubbing his
balls with her well-practiced tongue. "She's being quite honest. She really
does love anal sex. She actually looks forward to her menstrual period, so
her butt only has to share me with her mouth."

Marge's mouth was too busy to speak, but she nodded her head in enthusiastic
affirmation.

"Let's see how good you are at taking orders. Slut, have you ever had sex
with a woman before?"

"No Sir. I'm not a lesbian."

"I didn't ask if you were a lesbian, I asked if you'd ever had sex with a
woman."

"No Sir."

"Have you ever wanted to?"

"No, Sir. It's not natural, it's not something I've ever wanted to do."

"All the better. Well, now is as good a time as any. Marge, you've been a
good slave lately. It's its time you got some reward. Up on the desk, Roll
Over."

Marge lay down on the top of Bill's desk. She scooted down until her
tailbone was off the edge of the desk. She folded her legs up so that her
knees were next to her ears and her ankles crossed behind her neck. She
reached down and put her palms on her ass. When she had first become Bill's
slave, she had to work at it to get into a posture like this. This was one
of Sir's favorites, though. Now it was easy, and she could stay like this
for hours. 

"Off the stool." He said to Jean, releasing her ankles. It felt good to
stand. He led her over to the desk and brought the stool with him, setting
it in front of Marge's exposed pussy. He had Jean bend forward over the
stool, placing her stomach on the seat. Her face hovered over Marge's pussy.
He lifted Jean's feet up and clipped her ankles to the top rung of the
stool. That suspended her in a squatting position with her butt pushed out
back. The stool kept her knees wide and her pussy lips opened up like a
flower. Bill attached Jean's wrists to the stool. He laced a short piece of
chord through a ring in Jean's collar and handed the reins to Marge.

This was Jean's first good look at Marge's body. Up until now she had been
kneeling down and bent forward and not much was visible. Marge's entire
crotch was smooth and hairless, not even a hint of stubble. Her pussy was
adorned with five pieces of jewelry, two seamless gold rings through each
labia and a large curved silver stud through her clitoral hood. Looking up
she saw that Marge's navel was pierced twice and both of her nipples sported
seamless gold rings. Marge's pussy was swollen with blood and looked raw and
sensitive from being rubbed. The puffed up area of Marge's labia and mound
was colored a bright red. It looked like she had applied lipstick between
her legs and her areoles were a dark chocolate brown. Jean had never been
this close to another woman's pussy before and the stink repulsed her. 

Bill stepped up behind Jean. She felt his hardon pressed against the crack
of her ass, the hair on his balls tickled her labia. Marge pulled on the
reins and slowly Jean's face descended onto Marge's eager pussy. Her nose
touched first. 

"Lick it" she heard Bill say. "Taste Whore's pussy. You've already watched
her orgasm while licking your soiled panties. She likes it, you will too. In
time, you will come to crave it."

Jean tentatively stuck out her tongue. The moment it came in contact, Marge
jerked on the reins, which sent her tongue down into the inner folds. Marge
started humping up with her hips while pulling down rhythmically on the
reins. It dragged her nose and lips down the length of her pussy. Bill
matched the rhythm, humping his hips against Jean's buttocks. This pushed
her nose and tongue back up Marge's pussy. The two of them cooperated,
rubbing Jeans face in Marge's cunt. Jean's excitement overwhelmed and she
began to participate. The taste was sort of musky-sour, and her nipples got
even harder.

Bill pulled the belt from his pants. "You screwed up earlier. Mistakes get
the same punishment as disobedience. Whore, make sure she is quiet. We don't
want to wake the neighbors."

Marge held Jean's mouth firmly against her mound while Bill dealt out five
hard whacks with the belt. The excitement got to Marge, being licked by
another woman who was getting her ass whipped. Her body lurched in orgasm,
but true to her training, the only sound she was allowed to make in Bill's
office was hard breathing and very soft grunts.

Jean realized Marge was coming. Bill's other slave had orgasmed while Jean
was getting her ass whipped. Again the humiliation made a direct connection
to her sexual excitement.

Bill placed the head of his cock against the opening to her pussy. She
started wagging her ass back in forth, now eager to feel him inside her. "Do
you want it, Slut?"

She was consumed in a haze of lust. Of course she wanted him. She nodded her
head, keeping her tongue busy flicking across Marge's clit. Marge was
retuning from her last orgasm even though Jean was doing her best to keep
her there.

Bill grabbed her hair and pulled her head up. "I asked you a question, Slut.
Do you want it?"

"Yes, Sir, fuck me! God, yes fuck me."

"You horny slut, say please! Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

"Please, Sir, please fuck me."

"And tell me what you are and who you belong to."

It was true, and she knew it. Her whole body was shivering in anticipation.
"I'm your slut, Sir."

"You know exactly what I want you to say."

"I'm your property, Sir. I am your slave, your private slut. Please, Sir,
fuck your horny slave." 

Close enough. He let go of her hair and Marge pulled her head down again.
Gripping her hips and pulling hard, he thrust his full length into her. She
tried to wail out her satisfaction, but the sound was completely muffled by
Marge's cunt. He reached forward and began massaging her tits. He pressed
his weight forward and moved his hips from side to side, seating his cock
fully inside her, feeling her labia kiss the very base of him. He held still
against her, savoring this first thrust into his newly acquired slave.

"Feel that, Slut? That cock that is filling your cunt is your owner.  You
have no value except to serve my cock. You will eagerly welcome my cock in
or on any part of your body. There is no part of your anatomy that you may
consider `private.' The terms modesty and discretion are no longer part of
your vocabulary. You've begun a new chapter in your life. You are now just
an obscene sex toy, a pussy licking, cock sucking fuck toy. As long as you
continue to please me, I will reward you with my cock and with Whore's
tongue. But if you displease me or disobey me, you will be punished."

He started stroking with his full length. She could feel his balls press
against her clit each time. He kept up the pace and Jean/Slut felt her own
orgasm beginning to rise. Jean felt Marge's body begin to stiffen, her hips
pulling up. She wanted Marge to come again, so she quickened the pace of her
tongue. Marge came first, her grip on the reins became painful. Jean joined
her immediately and only a moment later, Bill spent himself deep into Slut's
pussy. Bill was supremely satisfied, having two beautiful naked orgasming
slaves on the end of his cock. As he pondered all of the possible perverted
entertainment, he slumped over Slut's back, and grunted rude profanity in
Slut's ear. His hips kept up their spasmodic jerking for several minutes as
he extended his orgasm as long as he could. If he were in bed, he would have
passed out right now.

Finally he slipped out of her. He staggered to a chair and sat. "Whore, you
know what to do. Lick it up."

Marge got off the desk and dutifully knelt between Bill's legs. Jean rested
her head on the desk, recovering from her orgasm. Marge took the whole thing
into her mouth and sucked hard, drawing out the last drops of come. This was
certainly not the first time she had licked the fresh juices of another
woman from her owner. This was different, though. Given that Jean Williams
was now Slut, this taste would become a regular part of her diet. Marge was
not simply resigned to this fact. Her slave conditioning was so complete
that she embraced the concept warmly. She felt him getting hard again. That
affirmed her self-image; she could still get her owner hard, he still wanted
her. 

Whore slipped her hand down into the upholstery of the chair where she kept
a tube of lubricant hidden. She spread some of the surgical jelly on the
head of his cock, and smeared some on her ass hole. She sat on his lap
sending him well up her ass. He humped her for a minute or two then had her
get off him. "Sit!" he said to Whore. She was instantly on her knees, head
down, her hands busy on her tits and cunt.

Bill lifted Jean's head up and sat on the edge of the desk. Jean had heard
the sounds of sex, but had not watched. When she looked at Bill's hardon,
she initially opened her mouth to receive him. But the stench of Marge's
shit hit her and she instinctively pulled back and turned her head to the
side.

Smack! Bill slapped her hard across the face. "Never ever refuse me! You got
that, you miserable useless slut?" He got one of his dirty socks and stuffed
it into her mouth. He wound some tape around her head so she couldn't spit
out the wad. She was silenced.

He spread a dab of the surgical lube on her ass hole and roughly forced
himself in her. He only could get about a quarter of his length in at first.
He humped as hard as he could. In only about 3 or 4 more strokes he had his
full length in, but the stool on which Slut was teetering tipped forward and
stopped, leaning against the desk. Bill had slipped out of her. Bill picked
up the stool and scooted it up right next to the desk. Jean's tits flattened
out on the cold desktop. Bill picked up the belt, folded it in half, and
started whipping Jeans exposed butt. He swung the belt hard, raising bright
red welts across her ass. 

After five or six strokes he jammed his cock back up her ass. He formed a
loop by passing his belt through the buckle. Passing the loop over her head,
it formed a constricting noose. He pulled hard on the noose while raped her
ass for about a minute and she could feel her windpipe crushing. Just as she
was about to pass out, he pulled back out of her ass, removed the noose from
her neck, and used the belt to whip her some more. This time her directed
his strokes up her back and down her legs. Bound and gagged like she was,
she was completely powerless to stop this madman. He alternated between
whipping her and butt raping her several times, then settled into a rhythmic
nonstop sodomy with his belt around her neck, choking her. Having just had
an orgasm only a few minutes earlier, he was able to stay hard for a long
time. Jean passed out several times, but each time she came too, he was
still thrusting up her ass, fucking her like a wild boar. Finally he came in
her. After a bit he withdrew and sat down. 

"Let her loose" he instructed Marge.

Jean rolled into a sobbing ball on the floor. Her whole backside was a dull
ache and her rectum hurt. Bill let her rest. After a while he said, "When I
tell you to do something, I expect you to do it without hesitation. It does
not matter what you think, or if it somehow offends you. What matters is
that you do exactly what I say when I say. As my slave you are not allowed
personal considerations. Your mouth, your nose, your ears, your tits, pussy
and you just found out, your ass hole. They are all my property, to be used
or abused at my discretion. I may from time to time ask your input, but I do
not need your opinion, because your opinion is meaningless. You are, after
all, a meaningless miserable slave. Do you understand?"

Slut nodded yes.

"Take that filthy knot out of your mouth and answer me."

Slut fumbled with the tape a bit, then finally removed it and the wadded
sock. "Yes Sir."

"Yes what? Tell me what you are."

Jean mumbled, "I am a meaningless miserable ..."

"Speak up! Speak clearly when spoken to."

"I am a slave, Sir." She was choking on her tears.

"Now, lick me clean, Slut."

Jean had learned her lesson. She responded as quickly as her confused,
broken condition allowed. Bill's limp, filthy cock was stained red with her
blood. She knew her asshole would hurt for days while it healed. Unwilling
to feel his wrath again, she began scrubbing him with her tongue. The bitter
taste of her shit was repulsive, but she completely hid her disgust. She
gave it her best.

Marge watched it all carefully. Bill had not been that hard on her in
several years, he hadn't needed to. But watching had rekindled some fears
she had not felt in quite a while. She felt some sympathy for Jean, but
dared not interfere. She knew better. She stayed in her default position as
before, on her knees, eyes down, one hand kneading her tits, the other
stroking her cunt. This time she felt no excitement, though, no orgasm
rising. She was mechanically carrying out instructions.

Bill was spent for the time being. He decided to take is captive home and
bed her. He had them both get dressed. He kept Slut's bra and panties,
telling her she would have to earn the right to wear underwear. He removed
the leather cuffs and collar for the trip home. He gave them to Marge and
whispered a few instructions in her ear. He sent the two women ahead
together, telling Jean she must do whatever Marge instructed. They were to
take Jean's car directly to Bill's home with Marge guiding and making sure
Jean didn't bolt. 

Bill waited a half an hour then left alone. He went to a bar for a drink, to
give Marge some time to carry out his instructions. When he got home, he was
somewhat relieved to see Jean's black BMW in the drive. He knew that if Jean
had any sense of control left, she would be gone. But having driven her own
car to Bill's house, Jean had accepted her subservience to him. The rest
would be easy, ... and fun.

He went inside and directly to the basement and found them just as he had
instructed. Slut was bound to the grooming rack, her mouth gagged. Bill had
this `grooming rack' custom built out of polished stainless steel. It had a
short vinyl-padded pedestal, just long enough to support a torso from the
hips to the shoulders. It had stirrups and manicals for feet and wrists, and
an adjustable cradle for the occupant's head. Once strapped in, the slave
was both helpless and exposed, yet well supported for long term abuse. Over
the rack hung a showerhead.

Marge sat on a chair with her face between Jean's legs, lapping away. 
Slut's hair was still wet from the shower and her pussy was now bald,
smooth, and swollen. Marge looked up for approval, but did not stop. 

"Enough. Heel." He said. As Marge stood up he added. "I didn't tell you to
bring her down here!"

"But, Sir, I ..."

Marge was stopped mid sentence as Bill punched her hard in the solar plexus.
She doubled over and dropped to the floor, struggling to breath. Bill
crammed a ball gag in her mouth and dragged her over to a corner. He wrapped
a short chain around her neck, looped it through an eyebolt in the wall, and
locked it. Marge was now attached to the wall.

With Marge silenced, Bill went to Jean and removed her gag, but left her
strapped down.

"Are you OK? Did she hurt you?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

"No, Sir, I just did what she told me to do."

He spent a few moments rubbing his hand across her hairless mound, checking
the quality of the shave. He applied a dollop of surgical jelly and started
rubbing with firm long strokes. 

"I have made it Whore's job to make sure your pussy is always carefully
shaven. If I ever find a hint of stubble or a stray hair between your legs,
she will be punished. Likewise, you are now responsible for her grooming.
Several times a day you are required to check her over for any sign of pubic
hair growth. Check her from her tailbone to her navel, and check her
armpits, too. These areas I am spreading this lubricant are the places I
want you to examine. 

Bill had spread the lube around in her armpits. She squirmed a little
because it tickled. He also spread the lube up her stomach past her navel,
up her inner thighs half way to her knees, and down the crack of her ass to
her tailbone and out onto the mounds of her butt. The coolness of the lube
on her skin distinctively indicated what areas he meant.

"Your lips and tongue are well endowed with nerve endings, so you will use
them to conduct your inspections. What that really means is every few hours
you will be kissing her pussy and licking her ass hole and she'll be doing
the same to you. You may soon learn how often you need to shave her, up
until now she has been shaving herself two or three times a day. I noticed
your cunt hair was soft and wispy. She may only have to shave you once a
day, but she has my permission to spread shaving cream between your legs ten
times a day if she wants. You may not refuse her. You must spread your legs
for her, without hesitation, whenever she asks. If she wants to lash you to
this rack and fuck you with a strap-on dildo, she may. Every time she does
you, you will do her in kind. I guarantee you will get complete cooperation
from her. You should be careful what you do to her, because she is under
orders to do the exact same thing to you. Do you understand? Do you have any
questions?"

"Yes Sir, I understand."

"Repeat after me. You may no longer refer to yourself as `I', instead: `Your
slave understands'."

"Yes Sir, your slave understands."

"You two are no longer responsible for your own personal hygiene. You will
bathe each other, shampoo each other's hair, and apply the other's makeup.
You will wipe the other slave's ass after she shits and you will change her
tampons as needed. You are absolutely forbidden from doing these things for
your self. For the time being, you may brush your own teeth, but you two
must share a toothbrush. You are to keep the other well groomed and
attractive at all times. You screw up, and I take away your toilet paper and
make you use your tongue."

"Yes Sir, your slave understands."

Bill released Jean from the rack and carried her thin frame up to bed. He
seemed suddenly gentle and caring, and they made love several times that
night. 

When Jean woke the next morning, Bill was in the shower. She got up,
borrowed a tee shirt and went down to the living room. There she found Marge
working out to an exercise video in the nude, her skin shiny with sweat. The
sound track was loud, and Jean watched her going through the motions, and
found herself getting turned on, lubricating. Suddenly she felt a finger
intruding her inner folds from behind; Bill had snuck up on her. She jumped
a little, but he put a hand on her shoulder and worked his finger in and out
of her for a bit.

"You're all wet and ready aren't you? Watching her, looking at her naked
body, made you horny, didn't it? Look at those tits, those hard nipples, and
her hot little ass; makes you want to fuck her doesn't it? Oh, you're a
Slut, alright."

He let go and walked over to Whore. When she saw him, she paused the video
and gave him a huge, affectionate, open-mouthed kiss. Whore opened his robe
and clutched his balls and hardon eagerly while Bill wiped Slut's juices
from his finger under Whore's nose. She wallowed her face against his hand
and licked at it hungrily. He pushed Whore onto the coffee table and got on
top of her. He hesitated a moment to say, "Go make breakfast, Slut." Then he
thrust into her and paid no more attention to Jean.

She went into the kitchen and familiarized herself. She found all the
standard stuff, and cooked up a meal. Jean was confused a little. He had
angrily abused Marge and left her chained in the basement all night. Now she
acted like it hadn't happened and had received him like an eager teenager.
Bill had made tender love to her all night, and had just ordered her around
like a servant. She muttered to herself while she cooked. Just about the
time she had set the table and was ready to serve, Bill and Whore came from
to eat. Marge looked happy and content but Bill was frowning. 

"Shirt off, Slut." His voice was low and curt.

"Get on your hands and knees on the table. ... Turn this way. ... Head down, arm
here. ... Other hand here, finger like this, now rub."

Jean didn't know what was up, but did as she was told. She was now in the
middle of the table on her knees. Her head rested on one arm, her eyes
tucked into the nape of her elbow so she couldn't see. Her free hand was
masturbating with the middle finger buried two knuckles up her cunt.

Marge served breakfast and two of them ate. They seemed to be ignoring Jean,
for they carried on a regular conversation. When they finished, Marge
cleared the dishes and put the food away. 

"All right, Slut. Let's go."

"But Sir, I haven't had breakfast."

Bill acted as if she hadn't even spoken. The three when back into the
basement play room. Without a word, Whore hopped onto the rack, strapped her
own feet to the stirrups, and presented her wrist to the manacles, willingly
offering herself. Bill set the chair between Whore's legs and pushed Slut
roughly into it. 

"Lick her right there, there, and there." Bill pointed to each of Whores
outer labia and the mound above her pussy. Jean hesitated only briefly, then
stuck out her tongue and began rubbing it around the areas indicated.

"I didn't sat touch it with your tongue, I said lick it, Slut."

Slut did as she was told. 

"Do you feel that? There's stubble growing between her legs! When I was
fucking my Whore in the living room, I went to lick her, and her pussy was
not perfectly smooth and hairless. Feel how rough it is? I don't like that!
I told you last night what your duty was, and you screwed up. So instead of
shaving her like you are supposed to, you stood there and watched her
dancing, getting all excited and drooling all over yourself. You fucking
screwed up!" He was shouting in rage.

He pulled a cable down from the ceiling that had a pair of heavy leather
cuffs attached and strapped them onto Sluts wrists. The cable went through a
pulley anchored to a beam above. Bill pulled the other end of the cable
until Slut was standing with her arms stretched over her head then fixed the
free end. He picked up a whip and started in on Slut's tits. In a rage, he
screamed at her while he beat her, "What a fucking screw-up! Can't you get
anything right? I thought I was perfectly clear! You said you understood
what I said! Apparently not! You worthless piece of shit! You ugly useless
slut! When are you going to learn?"

Bill had been hitting her with fierce strokes. When he quit and released the
cable, Slut collapsed to the floor, sobbing. Bill unbuckled the cuffs and
yelled "Get up! Get up and sit down." He hit her twice with the whip and she
scrambled up into the chair.

Whore had become extremely aroused watching her fellow slave get whipped.
She had been masturbating rigorously as she watched Slut get whipped. When
Slut was again in the chair, Whore put her hands again up by the open
manacles. Her hips pulled up rhythmically, humping in excitement.

Bill brought a basket with shaving supplies. "You shave her, she shaves you,
the first thing every morning, every afternoon, and again before you
pleasure me for the night. Smooth, hairless, swollen and lubricated. That's
how I want you both to be all the time. Got it?"

She nodded, still weeping and quivering.

Bill looked at Whore. "We discussed what I want you to do. Any questions?"

"No Sir. Your slave understands."

Bill left, muttering as he went "Stupid fucking idiot, fucking screwed-up
slut, one of these times I'm gonna ..."

Whore waited a bit while Jean sobbed softly and calmed down. "You had better
get it straight, Slut. You have two main jobs round here, fucking him,
pleasuring him in whatever way he wants, and grooming me, making sure I look
sexy and my pussy is always ready to fuck. You were so quiet this morning I
didn't see you. If I had, I might have prevented this. Although, wearing
that tee shirt probably soured his mood some. We're not supposed to wear
clothing at home. You should get started, here. You still need to lick my
armpits and ass hole before you shave me."

"I don't want to touch your anus. He isn't here, Marge, do I really have
to?"

"You are not allowed to call me that. My name is Whore. Yes you have to kiss
my ass. You don't have to want to, you just have to do it. If you don't,
I'll tell him. And if I don't kiss your ass, you'll tell him about it too.
You will tell him because he will beat the truth out of you. Don't worry,
Slut, you'll get used to it."

Jean was still confused about something. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything. We're not allowed to keep secrets."

"Last night he beat you and put you in chains. Yet this morning, you seem so
cheerful, like it didn't happen."

"I don't expect you to understand it, but I liked it. He was rewarding me
for following orders. I'm just a whore who gets off on rough sex. I
sometimes have orgasms while he smacks me around." Whore grinned devilishly
and shrugged. "You haven't learned to appreciate it yet, so it's best to
just do as you're told. He's going to be gone for a couple of hours on
errands. Take your time and try to enjoy it."

Jean thought it strange, but not entirely objectionable to use her tongue in
Whore's armpit, so she started there. She slipped forward to put her face
close enough. The pedestal supporting Whore's torso was narrower than her
back which left nowhere for Slut to put an elbow or a knee to support her
weight. She rested her body on top of Whore and the skin contact had a
calming effect on her. She stuck out her tongue and touched the tip to
Whore's pit. She rubbed it around in little circles.

"Come on, Slut. You are supposed to lick me, not just dab it around. Here,
let's switch places." Whore knew she could break the ice by doing a thorough
job on Slut. She released her feet and stood up. 

Slut lie down and set her feet on the stirrups, but kept her arms folded
across her chest. Whore set the straps on Slut's feet, then coaxed Sluts
arms up and closed the manacles on her wrists. Whore deftly stuffed a ball
gag into Slut's mouth and set it's buckle behind the support for the head
cradle. This silenced her and immobilized Slut's head. 

Whore pressed her stomach against Slut's exposed pussy. She started pinching
and twisting Slut's nipples. "You are required to do the same things to me
that I do to you. Lucky for me I like it when I am strapped down while I'm
getting fucked, so I'll do this to you a lot. On the other hand, I have to
repeat whatever you do to me. So if you want to be fucked some other way,
then you'll have to take the lead when we shave to show me what it is you
want in return."

With that she started laying down long wet licks in Slut's armpits. After
they were both thoroughly soaked, she slithered down to Slut's cunt. Here
she applied long firm strokes that went all the way from the perineum to her
bellybutton. Soon Slut's hips were pulling up in response to Whore's tongue.
After she switched to the inside of her legs, Slut calmed down. Whore
finished by licking Slut's two buns and a thorough scrubbing of her asshole.


Whore spread a generous amount of cream to Slut's armpits and between her
legs. She carefully dragged a disposable razor across each armpit, moving
methodically. That done she worked over Slut's entire crotch, checking and
rechecking with her fingertips, dabbing more cream over a spot and stroking
it with the razor again.

That finally done, she gave Slut another shower, just like the night before.
Dangling over the rack was a spray nozzle on a hose, similar to the type
used by restaurant dishwashers. First she hosed Slut down. Then using a bar
of soap and a soft washcloth, she washed every square inch of her body,
careful to keep the soap out of Slut's eyes. While covered with soap, Whore
used the razor on Slut's arms and legs, making them as smooth as her pussy.
Whore shampooed her hair, using conditioner. After rinsing her off, she
combed Sluts long blonde hair carefully. 

Whore brought over a full-length dressing mirror. She set it in front of
Slut and tipped it so Slut would have a good view of herself. While Slut
looked at her squeaky clean nakedness, Whore left the room for a while.
Since her head was still immobilized, the only way she could avoid looking
at herself would have been to close her eyes. But she didn't. She carefully
examined her magnificent tits, her shaved cunt, and her gagged mouth. Bound
like this, she would be powerless to stop Whore from doing anything she
wanted to her. Knowing what she did of Whore's tastes, there was a lot of
room left for imagination.

After quite a while, Whore returned with an armload of things. First was a
hair drier. Whore carefully dried and fluffed Slut's hair. She applied
lotion to Sluts arms, legs, and tits. She then removed the gag and started
to apply fresh makeup. Slut watched as her face was painted over, starting
with a thick foundation. Heavy mascara and eye shadow followed, then bright
pink lipstick. Slut watched herself transformed into what would pass for a
prostitute. Large hoop earrings completed the look.

"Now we switch places, Slut. And remember, you have to do exactly the same
things to me. After that I must teach you some new commands and what they
mean. We have to practice them until you have them down pat. Then we can
play."

Bill was gone well into the afternoon, making arrangements. When he
returned, he went right down to the playroom. What her found both surprised
him and pleased him. Whore's wrists were cuffed behind her back and her
elbows were strapped together. Her arms were pulled toward the ceiling by
the overhead cable keeping her torso bent forward. A spreader bar held her
legs wide apart and a ring gag kept her teeth apart; her drool ran
unchecked. She was standing in front of the rack so that her head was held
near the lower part of the seat and her face would be in the crotch of
someone in the rack. Slut wasn't on the rack, though. She sat in the chair
behind Whore pushing a vibrating dildo in and out of her pussy. 

"What a nasty Slut!" he said, "Heel."

Slut scrambled immediately, standing just behind his left elbow. The buzzing
dildo was still lodged in Whore's pussy.

"Good girl." He kicked off his shoes, dropped his trousers, and peeled off
his shirt. He moved Whore's shackled feet around which turned her away from
the rack. He pointed to the spot on the floor in front of her and said,
"Sit!"

Slut knew the commands, now. They had practiced them over and over while he
was gone. She dropped to her knees, copying the position Whore was in when
she first met her, left hand kneading her tits, right hand masturbating.
Bill stepped between them and turned to Slut.

"Get me hard, Slut." She lifted her chin up and licked his cock and balls,
teasing an erection from him. As soon as he was hard, he went behind Whore's
exposed backside, pulled the dildo out of her and pressed himself into her.
She let out a series of satisfied yelps, and as he picked up a thrusting
rhythm they softened into happy sounding grunts. He reached forward and
grabbed Whore's tits and tugged playfully on her dangling nipple rings.

"Well, Slut, lets see how well your obedience training is proceeding. You
figured out `Heel' and `Sit'. Lets try Roll Over.

She rolled backwards over her and onto her back. She pulled her legs up and
tried to get her ankles behind her neck. She was not as flexible as Whore
though, and she struggled trying to get them there. Bill pinched Whore's
nipples hard, rewarding her and she wiggled her butt around in response.

"Please, Sir. I can't quite do this yet."

"That's OK. Over the coming months you'll get lots of practice. Next show me
Shake."

Slut turned over onto her hands and knees. She arched her back and placed
her knees wide so her pussy crack was unmistakably offered. Her tits were
hanging down and she quivered her body so that they shook back and forth.
Bill pinched Whore's nipples hard again and ratcheted up the force of his
thrusts.

"Now my favorite. Beg."

Slut flipped over onto back again. She bent her knees and spread her thighs,
lifting her legs until only her toes touched the floor. She lifted her torso
up until her weight rested on her elbows. Her hands cupped under her tits,
pushing them together, forming a nice cleavage. She tightened her stomach
muscles to pull her hips up. Her pussy and tits were now nicely presented.
Bill was now mauling Whore's tit abusively.

"Now, Slut, `Say Please'. ... Ya, like that."

Slut shifted her weight onto one elbow and sent her free hand to her crotch.
She put her long middle finger lengthwise down between her labia and began
rubbing.

"Whore, you done good." He pulled out of her pussy and pressed the head of
his cock into her anus and worked the rest of him in. Bill had her impaled
on his cock. He walked forward a bit, gripping her hair to guide her. He
maneuvered her head until her string of drool was directed onto the back of
Slut's masturbating hand. Whore cooperated by working up a large wad of spit
and it dripped down. Slut accepted it and spread it all around her crotch.
Bill started thrusting again. The swaying motion caused the continuing
stream of spittle to be splattered all across Sluts stomach and chest. Again
Whore used her tongue to encourage a renewed flow of saliva. 

Whore felt her orgasm rising. Her labored wail started rising in pitch. Bill
felt his following. Just as Whore stiffed her body, revealing that she was
coming, Bill pulled out of her, stepped around and stood right over Slut.
Grabbing Whore's head, he plunged his full length down her throat and
started his orgasm. His semen coated her larynx and esophagus. His length
blocked her windpipe and her shuddering from orgasm turned into a struggle
to breath. Bill liked the way this felt, having his slave struggle for
breath while he shot his seed straight down her throat. He held his hips
pressed forward, as her struggle became frantic. He continued to hold firm,
and while his orgasm subsided her struggle weakened into arrhythmic jerking.


Just before she went unconscious, he pulled out. Her first reaction was to
inhale. As she did, she sucked most of Bill semen down her windpipe and into
her lungs. She coughed long and deep, trying to clear her airway. 

Slut looked up in fear at the choking, coughing slave above her and forgot
what she was doing. Not for long, though. She didn't see it coming, but felt
the sting of the whip across her tits.

He only whacked her once. "Did I give you permission to stop Saying Please?"


Slut picked up the pace again. 

"I want you to stay just like this and masturbate until you orgasm. Then let
her go. Shave each other, fix your makeup, and leave her in the rack when
you are done. Put the mirror in front of her so she can see herself, and
then come upstairs to dress. I'll leave out what I want you to wear. And
don't be all day, Slut. There is someone I want to introduce you to."

Jean did as she was told. As Whore cleared her windpipe, the gunk she spewed
landed right on Slut's hand. She masturbated herself all the way to an
orgasm with her pussy lubricated by Bill's spent semen and Whore's choked up
phlegm. She let Whore loose and hopped onto the rack for a shave. Having
just rubbed extensively down there, she knew she didn't need a shave right
now, but he had given a direct order. They did each other and she left Whore
strapped down and staring in the mirror. Whore asked that she be gagged.

As she went upstairs, Bill was on the couch watching some college football
game. On the bed were only three things to wear; a tube top, a miniskirt and
a pair of high heels, no underwear. The top was a simple tube made of thin
stretchy spandex. It was bright pink and very tight fitting. It hugged her
like a second skin and her nipples were plainly visible. The miniskirt was a
black knit material. I t was barely long enough to go below her crotch when
standing. It was slit up the back clear up past her tailbone so that her
butt crack was on display. The pumps were red and probably belonged to
Marge. They were a full size too small and started hurting her feet the
moment she stood on them. She checked her hair in the mirror. The makeup;
the clothes; she saw a prostitute reflected in the mirror.

She presented herself to Bill for inspection. "Sir, is this right?"

"Turn around and show me your backside."

She did.

"Legs a little wider. ... Bend forward a little and stick your ass out."

The skirt opened up in the back.

"Squeeze your tits and make your nipples hard. ... That's good. Now hold them
like that."

Jean stood there, displaying her ass and holding her tits together, and
watched the game with Bill. When she got tired, she asked if she could rest.
He said no.

Finally at halftime Bill turned off the TV and they left. 

They drove to a rough part of the city and stopped at a grungy shop. The
name in front read `Tribal Rites'.  It only had one window in front, covered
by security bars. The glass was papered over so you couldn't see inside.
Bill and Jean went inside. An acidic smell hit her nose right away. 

Bill growled in her ear. "You will do what ever she asks. Do not embarrass
me." He tapped the service bell.

After a minute out came a woman dressed all in black. "Bill! There you are.
I've been waiting, you're late." She had straight, black hair kept in a
boyish cut. She wore dark purple makeup and nail polish. Though not fat, she
was chunky and muscular looking.

"Sorry, Morgan, the Warriors were playing, and it was a pretty good game."

"So this is you new toy, eh? Very nice, may I? ? Uh, lock the door would
you?"

"Well of course. I believe you have to anyway, to get your work done."

"Yes, but my touch is different between work and play. Wow!" she said as she
squeezed and hefted Jean's tits, judging their size and weight, like produce
at the store. "Are they real?"

"Yes." Said Jean.

Smack! Morgan slapped her across the face. "I didn't ask you." She turned
her head to face Bill. "Are these things real?"

"So far as I can tell. I can't see any evidence of surgery."

Morgan shook Jean's tits up and down, side to side. Then she started
massaging deep with her fingers, feeling the tissues.

"I'll look. I know what to look for. Some cosmetic surgeons are pretty
damned good these days. What's her name?"

"Slut."

Morgan giggled, "That's you Bill, simple and crude." Morgan stepped around
behind Slut. She ran a finger down the crack of Slut's ass and rubbed it
rhythmically across her anus, which had finally stopped burning from its
previous abuse. Her other hand went inside the tube top and found a nipple.
"She really is gorgeous. Hell, I'll give you a hundred and fifty thousand
for her right now."

"Shit, Morgan, no way. You know you'd only keep her strapped to your little
workbench for a week or two and then sell her for twice that. Besides, we
are barely acquainted. I've only been up her ass once. I won't be selling
her until I'm bored with her."

Morgan let out an overly dramatic sigh. "Always a bridesmaid, never a
bride." She winked at Bill. "Alright, Slut, take off these clothes."

Slut was visibly quivering from fear as she heard herself talked about this
way. They were treating he like a farm animal. Her nakedness made her feel
very vulnerable.

Morgan asked, "We discussed what you wanted a couple of weeks ago. Are you
plans still the same?"

"Yes, actually. I want her to have the same as my other slave, twins you
might say."

Are you sure you don't want a stud in her tongue?"

Jean's eyes widened. He's going to have me pierced like Marge! She fell to
her knees in front of Bill. "No! Sir please no! Don't hurt me like that! I
don't want my body like that! I'll do anything you want!"

He grabbed her hair, "Shut the fuck up, Slut. You are nothing but a
worthless slave. What you want is meaningless. You will always do anything I
want anyway, so buck up baby."

Morgan held a back door open while Bill dragged Slut through. In the next
room was a grungy, old-fashioned OB/Gyn exam table. Despite her struggle,
Slut was thrown onto the frightening thing, fastened in place and gagged.
Her head was strapped to a headrest to make sure she could not look away.

Morgan said, "Damn, I like it when they struggle. You're absolutely sure
about the tongue? I'll tell you what. I'll give you a discount on the whole
package if you let me do her tongue. Your know, slaves always give great
blowjobs with a tongue stud."

"She's such a slut, she gives great blowjobs, anyway. Besides, Morgan, what
about my other slave? I'd have to get her done too. I want them to be the
same."

"Whore doesn't struggle, she'd be full price."

"You charge a lot for your discretion, and I've already invested a hundred K
in her." Bill mused for a moment, "Sure, why not, go ahead." 

They both thoroughly washed their hands and Morgan put on latex gloves. Bill
picked out the jewelry he wanted and Morgan put it all in a dish of alcohol
to sterilize it. She wheeled over a small cart covered with unfamiliar
tools. Morgan went to an autoclave and returned with several sealed
packages. She carefully washed Slut's crotch with antiseptic soap and then
swabbed it with a solution that was cool and tinged a little. 

Morgan started rubbing Slut's pussy. Despite herself, Slut felt her labia
begin to fill with blood. Morgan asked, "Does she get off quickly? I need
her to come several times to be sure I can identify the full extent of her
swelling."

"I've only seen her come once or twice so far. I really don't know what to
tell you. You'll just have to do your magic."

"Piece of cake."

Morgan used both hands. She rubbed both thumbs up and down the full length
of Slut's outer labia. Massaging deep into the tissues. She got in close and
planted occasional kisses on Slut's clitoris. Soon Slut couldn't help
herself and she started humping her hips up in response. Morgan stopped her
thumbs and started rhythmic licks across Sluts clit. Slut felt an orgasm
rising. Morgan sensed it and switched to the thumb action. Slut calmed a
bit, and then surged again towards orgasm. Morgan switched again, this time
to poking a dildo in and out of Sluts cunt. Each time she could see Slut
approaching orgasm she would switch tactics, denying her release. Soon she
had Slut bucking her hips wildly, thrashing her head from side to side.
Finally she returned to quick pecking kisses and kept it up until Slut came.
Morgan kept on for a while, kept Slut at the peak of ecstasy. 

She stopped for a few moments, allowing Slut to calm. Then she repeated the
kisses that had sent her over the edge until she came again. Then again, and
again. After five or six rapid-fire orgasms she finally stopped. Morgan took
a small towel and dried the juices off Sluts crotch and carefully inspected
the area. Satisfied, she took a marker pen and drew an outline around Sluts
pussy. The line surrounded the area that was now engorged with blood and
blushed pink. Then she used a small ruler and the marker to place four dots,
two on each labium, paired carefully opposite each other. 

One more time Morgan swabbed her down with disinfectant. Using a forceps
with a looped end, She clamped onto one of Slut's lower lips. Using a
sterile needle, she sent it through. Slut wailed through her gag and lurched
up at the pain. Morgan let go of her equipment and backed away for a moment.
With tears streaming down Slut's cheeks, Morgan placed a wide strap low
across Slut's stomach. She tightened it and added two more wide straps, one
around each thigh close to the hip. Slut could no longer move her pelvis at
all and her hips were stretched painfully wide.

Satisfied that Slut was quite immobilized, Morgan prepared to pierce the
opposite labium. Slut squeezed her eyes closed. 

Whack! Her eyes opened at the unexpected pain. Bill had borrowed Morgan's
cat. Whack, whack. He whipped her three times, hard across Slut's tits. 

"Keep your eyes open, you filthy Slut. Carefully observe everything that is
done to you."

Unwilling to endure more whippings, Slut watched in horror as Morgan
systematically punctured Sluts labia three more times. Morgan used a cotton
swab to tease up Slut's clitoral hood. She packed under it with gauze so it
would hold its shape. She pierced it twice, one on either side. She dabbed
up the accumulated blood and turned her attention to Slut's navel and
nipples. She scrubbed the areas with the strong soap and rinsed. Then she
applied the disinfectant. Using the hooped forceps to control the skin, she
punched two holes in her navel, one left and one right. Working efficiently,
she completed the work on Sluts nipples. She dabbed up blood again and
applied antibiotic cream to all the new holes.

Morgan left the new jewelry holes unfilled as she moved to the next task.
She set up a tattooing gun with a fresh needle. She inserted a cartridge of
bright red dye. Sitting on a padded stool she applied the tattoo dye between
Slut's legs, methodically moving across her genital area, staying within the
line drawn earlier. She took her time, stopping from time to time to rest
her hand. While Slut watched, her pussy was permanently painted a brilliant
red. At first she struggled at the limits of her bounds. After a time, Slut
became detached from the pain. She felt it, but it didn't really register.
The buzzing of the tattoo gun and the permanency of what was being done to
her body began to emotionally crush her. Morgan even teased open Sluts lips
and colored the inner folds and lips cherry red. She colored the hood, and
when Slut felt the stinging sensation on her sensitive clitoris, the
personality that was Jean retreated into a shell to be locked away. That
being done, Morgan announced that she needed a break. 

Bill asked, "She is in a lot of pain. Is it all right if I fuck her? It
won't cause any permanent damage or anything will it?"

"The worst part would be the possibility of infection. I'd advise against
it. Besides, I'll gladly help you out with your ... problem."

After giving Bill a quick blowjob Morgan changed the dye cartridge, this
time she used dark brown. Now she worked over both of Slut's areoles. She
meticulously darkened Slut's nipples and areoles the same dark chocolate
brown that Whore had. Being very thorough, it took quite a while again. Once
Slut mistakenly closed her eyes, and Bill had to remind her with two quick
whips to her inner thighs. After Morgan finished with Slut's tits, she
rested again. She ended by adding a dark brown ring around Slut's anus. 

Slut's new pierced holes had long stopped bleeding by now. Morgan slipped
four golden rings through the labia. Using clamps and a shield to contain
the heat, She welded the ends together. The rings would have to be cut to
come off. Same with the nipples, gold rings were inserted, welded, filed and
polished. For the navel, Bill had chosen a large single ring that went
through both holes and hung down. For Sluts hood, Bill had selected a large
gauge half-circle stud, but the holes were not large enough. Morgan grumbled
a little bit about extra work. She produced a tool that looked like a
leather punch. She had to carefully sterilize it and scrub Slut's pussy
again. The tool was quick, though and soon she had larger holes in her hood.
It took a while for the bleeding to stop. Eventually though, Sluts pussy was
crowned with the silver jewelry.

Morgan walked to Slut's head and unbuckled the gag. "Stick out your tongue,
Slut."

Slut clamped her mouth shut. She did not want her tongue messed with. 

Morgan smirked. She placed her hands along side Slut's neck, sliding her
thumbs up and down Slut's throat. Finding the pulse, she pressed firm, but
not hard. She pinched off the blood supply to Slut's brain. Within moments,
Slut felt the world swirl around and she lost consciousness. When she came
too, hard rubber pads had been wedged between her back teeth and her jaw was
stretched wide open. Some sort of circular clamp had been placed around the
base of her tongue and she couldn't pull it back in.

Morgan stood over her with that wicked punch tool. Slut screamed as loud as
she could as the evil device did its work removing a plug of flesh from the
middle of her tongue. She sobbed uncontrollably now, deep grieving sobs.
Morgan applied antibiotic solution to Slut's tongue and repeatedly had to
mop up fresh blood. Finally she was able to place a high quality gold stud
through Slut's tongue. Bill wanted it fixed permanently, but Morgan would
not do that. 

"In case of infection, you need to be able to remove it. Come back in a few
weeks and I'll replace it with one that cannot be removed."

The restraints were removed and Slut was helped out off the table. She
collapsed in an easy chair while Morgan reminded Bill of the rules on how to
take care of Slut's body modifications. Blowjobs were OK, as long as she
gargled with an antiseptic afterwards. Vaginal and anal sex was out for two
weeks. Be patient, let her heal, use your other slave.

Money changed hands, a lot of it. 

Slut dressed again. The tight top clearly revealed that her nipples now
sported rings. She walked slowly with a distinct waddle, partly because the
skin between her legs had been violated, and partly because her legs had
been forced as wide as they would go for hours. 

Before they left, Morgan admonished Bill. "You gotta let her heal, Bill. No
sex for at least a week. Longer is better. I can handle small problems that
might arise, but if she winds up needing real medical attention, you're on
your own." She gave Jean a big wet French kiss. "Take care, Slut. You were
fun to work on. You've made me very horny."

After they left, Morgan gathered up the tattoo gun and went to the back of
her shop and down some narrow stairs. Behind a heavy bolted door was a
sterile white room. In the center of the room was a gleaming stainless steel
table. On that table was a naked muscular young man, strapped spread eagle
and gagged. His body was covered 80 or 90 percent with bizarre tattoos, some
complete, others barely begun, and he had nearly fifty different piercings
spread all over him. Morgan cupped his balls in one hand and stroked him
with the other. Soon he was erect and she slipped a plastic ring around the
base his cock that would keep him hard for hours. She straddled him and
guided his cock into her. He started humping, fucking his captor. He knew
well what would happen if he failed to please.

Morgan said to him, "I have two new colors for you: a dark brown and a
bright cheery red. I haven't fucked with them so far, but that last client
gave me an idea. I think I'll turn your cock and balls a nice bright red,
and turn that purple head brown. You know, Danny Boy, you shouldn't be
sharing these needles with so many people. Some of my clients are pretty
sleazy. One of these days you might catch hepatitis, or even aids."

Slut rode home in total silence. She was an emotional wreck now, completely
broken and beaten. Body jewelry could be removed; the holes would heal in
time. But the tattooing, her genitals and her breasts had been permanently
desecrated. Even if she somehow got free from Bill, she was marked. Any man
she might sleep with from now on would consider her a cheap slut. And they
had talked of her being sold like property. 

`Property' she thought. Stockholm syndrome had started to set in while she
was on Morgan's exam table. `Bill owns me. He can do whatever he wants with
me. My wants do not matter. I am a servant, a sex slave. Yes, the only
reason I have any value is because by my owner fucks me. If I am not a good
fuck, he might sell me.' She did not want to be sold. Her next owner might
be cruel to her. Last night Bill had been wonderfully loving and kind to
her. He was only rough with her when she was disobedient. She had screwed
up. It was her fault he had to beat her. If she could not satisfy him, she
deserved what she got. The permanent marks she now bore, they made her more
desirable to her owner, so the pain she was feeling was necessary. `Pain
keeps me obedient, and an obedient slave has value. Pain is how my owner
shows that he loves me. Now I understand. Punishment is love. I am loved.'

Having successfully navigated this rationalization, Slut's mood began to
lift. She still clearly felt the pain between her legs, on her nipples and
tongue. But it had a purpose; it made perfect sense. A weak smile came to
her face. 

Bill had ordered some fast food at a drive up. She didn't normally care for
this kind of food, but she knew she would eat it. They were next in line to
pay when Bill said, "Give this kid something to dream about tonight. Flash
this pimply teenager your tits, Slut."

Without hesitation, without reservation, she pulled the tube top down off
her tits. She cupped her hands under them, pushing them up and together.
They pulled up to the window.

The kid said, "That'll be $17.97, sir." His face took on one of shock as he
looked at the beautiful woman flashing her tits for him. `She's got rings in
her nipples!' he thought. He stammered a bit and stumbled away for the food.
He hurried back with the food and gave it to Bill. He handed over the
change, and Bill lingered extra long as he counted the change and stuffed it
into his wallet. The poor kid was frozen in his tracks.

As they pulled away Bill said, laughing "Very good, Slut. Did you like
that?"

"Yes, Sir. I did like it." She was being completely truthful. Showing off
her tits in public was a sluttish thing to do. Her name was Slut. Besides,
he had told her to do it. Doing exactly as her owner told her was always the
right thing to do. 

Bill was frowning, "Say it the right way."

"Yes, Sir. Your slave liked showing off her tits."

"Excellent. Cover yourself and eat."

They went straight home. Bill sent Slut down to tend to Whore. She was
thirsty and hungry. Slut was to hand feed her, but first she excitedly
showed off her new body.

"Sir has exempted me from being shaved for the next week while I heal. Your
job is to treat my wounds, make sure they heal well. See my tongue? You're
going to get yours pierced too!"

Whore wolfed down the sandwich and fries, finished the drink. Even though it
hurt Slut's tongue, she licked Whore in the prescribed way and gave her a
very thorough shave. Due to her wounds, she was unavailable to Sir. She knew
Whore would be servicing him. She needed to keep Whore's pussy in peak
condition for the next few days.

They slept together that night. Slut watched in envy as Whore received his
seed three different times. She held his balls and massaged his butt,
feeling his rhythm. When she licked him clean, she wished it were her own
juices that she tasted.

Bill woke up lying on his back, a slave sleeping peacefully on each
shoulder. He slipped out of bed without waking them and showered. When he
came out they were still in bed, but they weren't sleeping. Despite the dull
ache in her freshly pierced nipples and tongue, Slut held her slave sister
in a full embrace, limbs entwined, French kissing her, completely oblivious
that there was a naked man standing next to the bed. Bill smiled, Slut's
transformation had proceeded in ways he didn't expected. Less than two days
ago she had claimed she wasn't a lesbian. Now look at her. 

He left them alone and went down to make breakfast. When he brought it up on
a tray, Slut was just finishing with Whore's morning shave. They made a game
of feeding each other while holding obscene poses. Even Bill got into the
act, showing off in overdramatic `he-man' poses while his two adoring slaves
fawned over him, peeling his grapes, admiring his muscles, worshiping his
manhood. They laughed, they played, they fucked like crazed weasels all
morning long. 

After lunch they went to Slut's apartment to begin moving her stuff. Bill
supervised what clothing she was allowed to bring. No pants or slacks were
allowed. From now on Slut was only to wear dresses and skirts. Her underwear
drawer was ceremoniously dumped into the trash. Bill announced that he would
choose all new bras for her and that she would never be allowed to wear
panties, ever again. As a sex slave, he informed her, she was to be
immediately available at all times; pants and panties were out, skirts and a
bare smooth pussy were in. Very few personal effects were packed. She was to
abandon her formal life. Bill had no interest in her furniture. The girls
stripped the best things from the kitchen. They packed generally useful
stuff like towels and linens. It all fit in their two cars. When they left,
Bill confiscated her only key.

Slut was assigned her own bedroom for her stuff. By the time she was
unpacked and moved in, it was time for bed.

The next morning Slut called in to ask for the week off, explaining that a
family emergency had arisen. Bill used his authority to see that it was
approved. They left Slut home alone all week to rest and heal. Bill cuffed
her ankle to the bed with a short chain and gave her a jar to piss in. She
was given a bottle of water, some food, and a stack of pornography with
strict instructions to carefully study the contents, looking at every single
picture and to copy exactly the postures of the models. Bill set up a video
camera on a tripod and told Slut that her sister slave would review the
tapes each day to be sure she complied. Whore had actually bought all the
magazines, on orders from Bill, of course. She had a huge collection in her
room and had them all memorized. Each day Bill had her pick out her
favorites for Slut to study.

One afternoon that week, Bill took an afternoon off. He and Slut went to her
bank and she emptied out all of her accounts, taking cash. She cashed in all
of her retirement funds and sold all of her stocks, certificates, and
anything else of value. She sold her car and cancelled all of her insurance
policies and credit cards. Bill had all of the money placed in a secret
overseas account and arranged for her paychecks to be directly deposited to
that account. Slut was now destitute, totally dependent on Bill. After all,
a slave is herself a possession, and has no need of money.

Four days after her visit to Tribal Rites, Slut insisted that her shaving
resume. By week's end, she was happily having frequent sex with both Bill
and Whore, even though it hurt a little. By the time she returned to work,
she had adjusted to her new reality so successfully, no one in her workgroup
suspected a thing. She was model, contented employee, still very good at her
job. If anything she seemed happier and sexier than ever before. 

At first Bill had to enforce the regular licking between his slaves. He
found it highly entertaining to watch. Slut found it particularly upsetting.
Bill made them do it in some embarrassingly public places: taxicabs,
theaters, restaurants, elevators, behind bushes at the park, under each
other's desk, before, during, and after every meal. Sometimes the oral task
was thorough, but often out of the blue he would have them lift their skirts
and trade a slow, single stroke across the anus. His intention was to make
it dehumanizing and desensitizing. But the regime ended up having an effect
he didn't expect.

Jean and Marge quickly became extremely close friends. The frequent licking
and shaving became a routine and ritualized part of their everyday lives.
Each slave found that she craved having the other slave's tongue between her
legs a dozen times a day, every single day. The stale aftertaste of pussy
was constantly on her tongue and in her mind. Having their pussies and
assholes licked so often demolished any sense of physical privacy or modesty
they may have had. Soon all other barriers between them collapsed:
emotional, psychological, moral, intellectual, spiritual. They selflessly
shared their most intimate secrets and desires. They had bizarre dreams
about each other and excitedly told each other the explicit details. The
expressed every fantasy they ever had and acted them out together, no matter
how weird, unrealistic, or unconventional. After a few months their
menstrual cycles synchronized, which made their bond even stronger. Their
personalities merged and over time they stopped thinking of themselves as
individuals, but as a single slave with two bodies dedicated to the
unrestrained pleasure and selfless fulfillment of their owner. Bill wound up
with exactly what he wanted: two stunningly beautiful constantly horny
bi-sexual fuck animals that were loyally dedicated to Bill's happiness and
gratification and utterly committed to a life of sexual servitude under him.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations.         |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+