The Misadventures of Gwen Chapter 9 

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WARNING:

This story is fiction, and should be treated as such. The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upsets you, DO NOT read any further. If it is illegal in your location, DO NOT read it.

This is a copyrighted work.  Copyright 2007 by Kirk. Reposting or any other use of it is strictly prohibited without the express, written permission of the copyright holder, except that it may be posted as part of a review or posted to a free-access, noncommercial archive sites.

DISCLAIMER:

All characters are fictitious. Any resemblance to anyone either alive or dead is purely coincidental.

Please!  Send me your comments!
Email to “Kirk” mobiguard-asstr@yahoo.com
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A week passed and I was almost fully recovered.  During the week I was closely supervised by my chambermaids, and often teased and taunted by them.  My pussy and anus were off limits so that they might fully heal.  The only attention they received was the healing ointments that were applied.   

The only negative effect of all of this was my constant state of horniness.  My clit was very sensitive and constantly throbbed it was so hard.  It had been a whole week since I was violated by the Marquis’s guests, and I longed for more of the same.

That evening particular attention was paid to how I was dressed since the Marquis would soon be visiting my chambers.  I was dressed in black leather.  The leather over the knee boots felt so good against my thighs.  If it wasn’t for the five inch heels, I could really get off on them.

When the Marquis entered, I stood and assumed the proper position – feet apart, hands locked behind my head, and my breasts thrust forward. My clit grew hard in anticipation. It had been a week since last he saw me.

He walked over to me and looked me up and down.  “Well, Gwen, I hope this past week has been a relaxing one for you.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied.

He squeezed my left nipple while whispering in my ear, “This morning your car went over a ravine and down an embankment on Route 374 just outside of your hometown.  The car was destroyed by fire. The driver’s body was burned beyond recognition, however, dental records show conclusively that the driver of that vehicle was you, Gwendolyn Donohue.”

What was he saying?  My car went over a ravine?

“You see, Gwen, in the eyes of the world you are dead.  There truly is no turning back, now.”    

I listened to the Marquis in disbelief. My stomach was in knots. This meant that anyone I ever loved or knew now would think that I was dead.  This truly gave him free reign to do to me what he pleased with no repercussions of any kind.  Oh my God, what had I done?  Is this what I really wanted? I knew that I would succumb to any bizarre thing he did to me no matter how much it might initially disgust me.   My initial reaction was one of panic knowing that no matter what he did there would be no repercussions whatsoever. He was above the law now. Would I be able to survive?  What new and bizarre adventures were in store for me?  How much more could my poor body take?  It didn’t really matter did it? It was my choice. I chose to stay, and now I must suffer the consequences of that decision.

He sucked on my nipple drinking the sweet nectar.  I felt a twinge in my private parts.  My clit not only tingled but grew hard, like a little cock.

“One thing that I need to take care of immediately is the issue of body hair.”

“All my body hair has been removed, sir,” I said.

“Not all, dear Gwen,” he replied.

I looked at him confused.  I had no more body hair.  His depilating cream took care of that.  It was all gone.

“I don’t understand,” I said questioningly.

He became irritated.

“You don’t need to understand.”  He viciously twisted my left nipple.  I cried out in pain.

“Get on your knees.  Spread you legs.  I want your pussy fully exposed, and lock your hands behind your head.  

“Monique, bring me my riding crop.”

I did as commanded totally vulnerable to the Marquis. Did my response really warrant such drastic measures?  My breasts jutted out begging for attention as they swayed on my chest now laden with sweet nectar.  He smacked the side of my right breast with his crop.  He then smacked the side of my left breast. I winced in pain. They swayed to and fro with milk seeping out of my aroused nipples. He got great satisfaction out of my discomfort.

“Monique, bring that floor length mirror here so that the slut can see,” he commanded.

Monique rolled the mirror over and placed it in front of me.

The Marquis stood behind me, bent down, and placed his mouth close to my ear.

“Look in the mirror, Gwen.”

I looked at myself in the mirror with fear in my eyes.

“Do you see any hair?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“My head.”

“Yes, very good.  There’s hair on your head. He tapped my head with his riding crop. What do you think we should do about that hair?” He ran his fingers through my hair.

I don’t want to do anything with my hair.  I love my hair.  I have hair to die for. My long golden tresses have always been a source of pride for me.

“I don’t know,” I stammered. 

“You don’t know?”  He reached around and smacked the side of my right breast with his crop and then did the same to the side of my left breast in quick succession.  “Wrong answer!”

Oh my God, he couldn’t seriously be thinking of cutting off all of my hair.  I would look like a freak – a large-titted bald bimbo.  My heart was racing.  Removing my pubic hair was one thing, but to remove my beautiful golden tresses would be devastating.  I would look so bizarre.  I would look like something on the SciFi channel.

“Gwen, do I like hair?” he whispered in my ear as he reached around and stroked my clit with the crop.  

No, sir, you don’t,” I replied. My heart was racing.

“Right,” he said as he continued to stroke my clit.  I was getting aroused in spite of myself.  “What do we do with hair I don’t like?” he taunted.  He moved the crop down separating my pussy lips and probing my hole.

I know what he wants me to say.  Why doesn’t he just do it?  Why must I say it?  I know I have no choice.  I’m going to lose my beautiful hair forever.  He wants to turn me into a freak.  He wants to humiliate and debase me in every way possible, and there’s nothing I can do about it.  I chose to stay. It’s my own fault. I could have left. I could be home right now safe in my home.

I was aroused.  My pussy was on fire.  I couldn’t think straight.  He was waiting for an answer as he stoked the fire.  I must answer, and there was only one answer he would accept.

“We get rid of it,” I stammered.

“Yes, we get rid of it!  So, knowing this, tell me what we should do,” he whispered in my ear as he continued to stroke my clit with his riding crop and bury his tongue in my ear.

No! No!  He’s going to make me say the one thing I would never think of doing to myself - the cruelty of it all.  I have no choice.  I made the decision to stay.  I had my chance to leave this madness, and I didn’t.  I have only myself to blame.  

“Cut my hair off?” I forced myself to say.

“Why, yes, that’s a splendid idea, Gwen?  Is this what you really want?” he chided me.

Of course, I didn’t want this.  I loved my golden tresses.  Him and his games; he was forcing me agree to this travesty and making it look like it was my idea..

“Yes, sir,” I whimpered

“Very well.  Monique, bring over the cart!” he said as he rose, standing behind me.

“You’ve made a very wise decision, my dear,” he chuckled as he combed my hair together as if to make a pony tail.

Emotionally I was a wreck.  I was very highly aroused, and at the same time so scared at what he was about to do.

“Look in the mirror, Gwen,” he ordered.

I looked in the mirror and watched him holding my hair gathered together at the top of my head. He then picked up the scissors and placed them at the base of my gathered hair. 

“Watch me transform you into a new woman,” he said as he cut off my golden tresses.

 One snip and my long tresses were gone.

They were gone!  He held my hair in his left hand which he now deposited in a wastebasket.  All that remained were short pieces of hair all over my head.  He then picked up electric clippers and proceeded to shear off the remaining hair.

A tear escaped my eye and traveled down my cheek.

Next my head was dampened with a warm wet cloth lathered with shaving cream.  The Marquis stood in front of me, making sure not to block the mirror.  

“Watch, Gwen,” he said as he turned my head back towards the mirror with the riding crop. “I want you to watch.”  

Monique took the straight razor and proceeded to shave my head.  I was overwhelmed as I stared in the mirror.  Oh my God, what was happening to me?  

The Marquis removed his clothes. He stood before me.  “Don’t you think you should express your gratitude to me for fulfilling your wishes?”

I took his huge cock in my mouth, and he rammed it down my throat in one thrust.  He held it deep in my throat while Monique finished shaving my head.  I continued to cry silently.  I couldn’t breathe.  He was cutting off my air supply.  I tried to push away – to get some air, but I couldn’t. His grip was too strong.  

“Ah, Gwen, what a commotion you are going to cause at our next gathering,  You know, if you had not asked me to rid you of your hair, I wouldn’t have done it,” he chuckled as he released my head and allowed me to get some air.

I fought to get air in my lungs as his cock withdrew from my throat. I gulped in large mouthfuls of air as I panted, trying to recover form being deprived of oxygen for so long. My breasts heaved up and down on my chest seductively.


 He then applied the dreaded depilitating cream to my head.

I cried for now it was too late.  The cream was already destroying my hair follicles. Hair would never grow on my head again.  I had reached another point of no return.  The Marquis satisfied with himself continued to fuck my mouth with abandon.  

“Claire, bring over the milking machine.  Our little slut is way past due.”

There was a flurry of activity around me as Monique cleaned up from my hair debauchery. Claire at the same time brought over the milking machine.  She reached down and squeezed and kneaded my nipples making them hard. The fire in my cunt was burning out of control.  Once more I was on fire.  The cups were placed over my areolas and the machine sprang to life sucking the sweet nectar from my breasts. 

God that felt good.  There was something arousing about having your breasts milked.  My pussy was overheating.  If only I could reach down there and satisfy my craving.  No one seemed to be watching.  The Marquis had left the room, and Claire was busy adjusting the pressure on the milking machine.  I slowly took my right hand off my head and slid it down towards my clit.  God that felt so fucking good.  I rubbed and pinched my clit sending chills up and down my spine.

SMACK!  Claire slapped me across the face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?  Haven’t you been told to never touch yourself?  Answer me,” she demanded as she slapped me again.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed.

Claire slapped me again.  “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m sorry, madam,” I quickly responded in frustration.

“That’s better, you big-titted bimbo.”  She then removed the suction cups from my tits and took the machine away.

“I’ll be back to deal with you in a minute.  Don’t you dare even think about moving your hands from your head, you pathetic piece of shit.”

Claire was a monster.  What did I do that was so wrong?   Life was not going to be easy with her around.  Life wasn’t going to be easy anyway.  It really didn’t matter.

Claire returned and ordered me to stand up.

“Spread your legs wide,” she said as she kicked me feet wider apart.  She then took a four inch leather belt and put it on me.  She secured my wrists to the two cuffs located on the side of the belt.  

“That should keep your hands out of trouble,” she said as she rubbed my pussy.  She nuzzled up close to me and ran her hands all over my body feeling my tits, caressing my ass, and penetrating my vagina with two fingers.  I was so turned on, I began to rotate my hips.

“Is that better, baby,” she whispered in my ear as she probed my pussy looking for my G-Spot.  “Do you need to cum?”

I was on fire. God, this was wonderful.  She  found my G-Spot, and I was going crazy.  I was so close. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.

“Are you close?” she asked whispering in my ear.

“Oh, yes,” I said as she probed my ear with her tongue.

“How close, love?” she asked as her left hand left my pussy and traveled slowly up to my breast.

“Real close, madam,” I cooed.

She backed off and punched me in the stomach.  She then grabbed me by the nipples and twisted them viciously.

I screamed out in pain.

“That’s too bad.  The Marquis says you can’t cum,” she sneered as I broke down and cried in frustration.

At that point the Marquis entered the room.

“Is something the matter here?” 

“No, sir, I’m just finishing up with her milking,” said Claire respectfully to the Marquis.

He looked at me and then at Claire who busied herself cleaning up.

What can I say?  If I tell him what Claire did, she’ll just take it out on me later.  I sobbed and said nothing.

“I want her prepared for bed.  Call Monique and Evelyn and tell them to be quick about it.”

Monique and Evelyn prepared me for bed.  I took a bath and soaked.  While I was bathing I could overhear them talking about my bald head.  I couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, but every once in a while they looked over at me while they were talking.  I felt so self-conscious.  The reality of the whole situation was just beginning to sink in.  I would never have long beautiful hair again.  Never!  I was filled with such sorrow and hopelessness.

After my bath, I was strapped down in bed and made immobile.    Depilitating cream was again applied to my head for extra measure, although I don’t know why they bothered.  No hair had grown back on any other area of my body, and I only had one treatment everywhere else.

The Marquis returned to the room and approached me.  This was unusual for him to be here this late in the evening. 

“I’ve noticed that your nipples are fairly long, Gwen, but not long enough.  They are approximately an inch in length, and I want then to be at least one and three quarter inches long - actually the longer the better.  A longer nipple is much easier to suck on and, of course, much more sensitive, and a few of my guests complained the other night.  So I have come up with a solution to the problem – an ingenious little invention.”

Why now? Didn’t I go through enough today? How much more could I take. My God, I had my limits too. This could wait until tomorrow.

He produced two small wire mesh cones.  They were circular at the bottom with a circumference the size of my areolas.  They tapered up to the size of my nipple.  Their height was a little over an inch and a quarter. They looked kind of like small ice cream cones.  The Marquis placed one over my left nipple and pushed down into the meat of my tit which forced the nipple up into the tapered end.  When it was fully inserted, he took a metal pin and inserted it through the mesh, and then through the piercing in my nipple, and out the other side. Clips similar to those found on pierced earrings hold the pin in place.  When the Marquis released the cone, my nipple was stretched out a full inch and a quarter. He repeated the procedure on my other nipple. 

“There, after a few weeks of wearing those at night, your nipples should be stretched out nicely. Once they’re stretched out to an inch and a quarter, we’ll replace those cones with inch and a half cones.  You get the idea. You’ll have nice long nipples in no time at all.”

I was very much aware of my nipples.  They were extremely sensitive and these cones raised my awareness acutely.  The effect wasn’t unpleasant, but added to my sexual frustration which was becoming the norm except for those rare occasions when it served the Marquis’s purposes to let me cum. 

With that, I was left alone for the night.  I was left with my own disturbing thoughts, trying to make sense out of all that has happened to me this day. 

