LEGAL DISCLAIMER

All characters, places and events in this story are fictitious. Any similarity to real people either living or dead is purely coincidental. It is also important to be aware it is not the author’s intention to promote or condone any activities that would be considered illegal in many parts of the world. It should further be noted it is not the author’s intention to provide factual information related to any ‘alternative sexual lifestyle’ nor educational resources for safe sexual practices.

The story is intended to entertain open-minded adults and you are encouraged to read this story with your partner. No guarantees or warranties are offered if this story fails to meet your expectations. All comments and other feedback is welcome and should be addressed to slave802120@gmail.com with the subject header ‘Eastlake’.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

All words and images used to illustrate this story are ©2005 Ingrid Hawthorne. They may be downloaded for private viewing but may not be reproduced or redistributed in any form without the expressed written permission of the Copyright owner.

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Case #802120 - Part 12 - Cock Currency

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By late Thursday afternoon, news of Jack filtered back to me through my new guard, Bobby. He told me everybody in the department had heard it too, and the fact he managed to con a lawyer was met with much mirth and merriment by everybody. When I asked about who his accomplice might have been, he said nobody knew for sure, but that it was probably one of Jack's slaver friends.

"And, nobody is going to do anything to catch him?" I asked, ever hopeful.

"Hell no! You can't go around arresting the slavers! Our whole economy would grind to a halt if they started doing that!" 

Bobby said. He appeared to be incredulous that I could even think such a thing.

"Look on the bright side," Bobby continued.

"What bright side?"

"Hopefully he'll spread the word about and somebody will make a bid for you."

"Gee. Thanks." I mumbled.

"Are you being smart with me?"

"No! Oh no! I'm sorry, I didn't meant it that way," I quickly apologized.

"In the old days, I could have had you sent straight to Hills for giving me lip, girl," he said, sounding deadly serious.

"I'm really, really sorry," I mumbled contritely.

"How sorry?"

I could sense what he wanted and I slowly dropped to my knees at his feet.

"We'll see about that," he said.

My eyes followed his hands as he reached for his belt buckle and released it. I expected to see him unzip his trousers next, but he continued pulling the buckle until the broad, leather belt was completely free.

"How sorry are you?" He asked again. He slapped the folded belt loudly against the side of his leg.

"Very, very, very sorry!" I said emphatically. To prove it, I started reaching for his zipper but he pushed my hand away.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he demanded to know.

"I ... I was just ... just going to ..."

"What? Touch my cock?"

"I wanted --"

"You don't fucking tell me what you want! I tell you what I want. That's how it works around here, you stupid bitch."

The insult was like a kick in the stomach.

"Yes. I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I won't do it aga--"

"Do you ever shut up?"

I choked back the apology I was trying to make and looked tearfully up at the guard.

"Well, do you?"

He waited for an answer but I felt impossibly trapped.

"Do you like hearing that stuck-up voice of yours all the time?"

I hung my head and shook it. Tears started to trickle from the corners of my eyes and dripped in small splashes next to my knees.

"I fucking -- hate -- the sound of it. Fuck! I haven't been here five minutes and you're already on my damn nerves!"

I cowered slightly as his violently spat words rained down on me.

"Get on the bed," he said, his tone suddenly hushed and controlled.

I felt numb from head to toe, but rushed to obey him as quickly as I possibly could.

"Face down," he said.

The janitor's cum-stain on the bed still felt cold and damp against my stomach.

"That's it," he continued. "Face down, legs together. Leave your feet hanging over the end of the bed. Put your arms up and hold the bed head.

I buried my face into the mattress between my arms and did as I was told. His rubber-soled boots squeaked on the polished concrete floor as he moved to the foot of the bed. A rope was wrapped several times around my ankles before the ends were tied off between them and then lifted slightly to lash them up under the tubular steel of the bed-end.

"Now, fold your arms behind your back," he said.

I reached behind my back, grabbed my forearms and pulled until my arms were as stretched back and folded as I could manage. His hands reached between them and my back and he tied them in place with another long length of rope. Once he'd finished, I wriggled my fingers and toes a little bit to keep the circulation going and listened attentively.

"How sorry are you?" he asked again.

"I'm extremely sorry," I turned my head to speak so my apology wasn't muffled in the mattress.

"I'm going to whip your ass and you are not to make a sound or say a word unless I tell you to speak. Do you understand me?"

"Yes..."

"Yes, -- who --?"

"Yes -- sir."

"Finally! You're starting to learn some manners," he said. "Don't look at me!"

I immediately pressed my face back into the mattress. The sound of the belt then whistled through the air and it clapped with a deafening crack on my unprotected ass. The instant and blinding pain of it made every muscle in my body flinch and tense.

"Say -- Thank you sir; I deserved that," he said.

I was still trying to catch my breath when I repeated his command. The belt whistled through the air a second time and again, I was made to give him thanks for the horrible, burning pain he inflicted on my ass.

By the time he got to the fifth blow, I could barely breathe. I could feel a large wet patch on the mattress around my mouth from where I had been sucking the fabric to stifle each of my screams.

"Five more," he announced after allowing me a moment to recompose myself. "I want you to count down from five. Do you understand?"

"Yes... sir," I replied, almost forgetting to address him respectfully.

When he started hitting me again, I could hear him grunting with the effort he put into each lash he gave me -- diabolically hard lashes that had me sobbing uncontrollably by the time he finished. I could hear him returning his belt to his trousers and prayed my punishment was over.

"Doesn't that feel better? Doesn't it feel good to know you've done your penance?" he asked as happily as if he was asking me whether I liked eating strawberries and cream.

"Yes, sir. I feel much better now. Thank you, sir --"

"No need to go overboard," he said with a laugh.

I immediately stopped talking. It didn't appear like he was going to untie me, although there was some relief to see he intended going back upstairs. He left me that way for at least an hour and my shoulders were incredibly tired and sore by the time he came back.

"It's nearly time for your phone call," he said on his return.

He untied my arms first and then my ankles. My fingers and toes tingled as the circulation returned and the ache in my shoulders slowly faded.

I was allowed to sit up. My head swirled with dizziness for a minute or so, but eventually all of my senses felt like they were operating in sync again. The guard had brought some kind of strange and perverse looking contraption into my cell and was in the process of plugging in its power cord.

"I've got you a new phone chair," he laughed after he plugged it in. 

It was about the size of a five-gallon drum, cut in half length-ways and with two largish black rubber dildos rising up from its seat. He stood next to it and a pressed a few buttons on a remote control that looked a lot like a video player remote. My cell reverberated with the sounds of buzzing. The dildos started to make slow, obscene gyrations -- increasing to a frenzied pulsing and twisting as the speed was increased. Satisfied that the grotesque device was operational, the guard switched it off and turned his attention to me.

"Here's the deal," he said, placing the telephone from the desk onto the floor in front of the device. "I want you sitting with the larger of those two dildos in your cunt, and the other one in your ass."

My stomach tightened as did a feeling in my chest. My eyes became transfixed on the two dildos. They both were molded like real cocks, with life-like heads, testicles and even a rough sort of a texture, like swollen veins. The larger was stood about 8" off the padded vinyl cover of the drum with the other maybe 6", including the generously proportioned balls on a flat base. The tips of both arced slightly toward each other, but the shafts bowed out like a pair of mismatched bandy legs.

"I've already lubed them. After you're sitting fully on them, and I mean -- fully -- , I'll tell you what I want next."

I nervously got off my bed and slowly approached the device. Their greasy blackness glistened. I positioned my feet either side of the drum and then cautiously lowered myself until I was squatting with the larger dildo poised to penetrate my pussy. The touch of its cold tip against my warm pussy lips briefly took away my breath. I inched the tip of it carefully into my pussy, struggling a little to maintain my balance as it entered my pussy.

The dildo's tip entered easily, followed by a short part of the thick shaft until the second touched the sensitive bud of my anus. I needed to hang onto something and feared I'd suddenly collapse down onto my ass. My hands searched between my legs for leverage and eventually settled onto the front of the padded seat. My ass waved in the air above the dildo and bumped lightly against the tip of second dildo. Once I felt confident I had it aimed correctly, I gently eased the tension of the muscles on my legs and let gravity do the rest. It took several minutes of very slow movements, but eventually I was able to break past the tightly resisting seal of my anal sphincter muscle.

My breathing had become short and shallow, and I worried I might start hyperventilating if I didn't hurry up. I steeled myself to the pain and let my weight slip heavier and heavier onto the two dildos. It proved to be a shorter drop than I had imagined before I felt the first coolness of the rubber testicles against my ass cheeks and clit, but I still felt horribly stretched.

"Now, move your legs around and relax some more on your knees," the guard said.

The sideways movements of my legs, making wide arcs on the smooth floor before being able to be folded up beneath me, caused the two dildos to twist and move uncomfortable in my ass and pussy. The vinyl padding, cool and soft against the insides of my thighs, provided a little comfort, but not enough to take my mind off the torturous pain in my ass.

"Look at me," the guard said.

I looked up at him, blushing in the knowledge that he had just watched me impale myself on the two cocks.

"OK. I want you to follow my instructions here to the letter. If you don't follow them exactly, I will terminate your call and I will not allow him to visit you tomorrow. Understand?"

I nodded a solemn agreement.

"So far, so good. After he answers the phone, I want you to immediately tell him that you are prohibited from talking about any of today's events until he starts recording your conversation on your answering machine. Tell him it's very important that he starts the machine and that you need him to record everything you tell him. Understand?"

The guard quickly stripped completely out of his uniform as he spoke. His cock danced up out of his loins beneath the roll of gut that now bulged freely.

"When he starts recording on the answering machine, I want you to tell him to get online and go to the website of The National Confessor and wait for further instructions. While you're waiting for him to load the page, you are to start sucking my cock and not stop until he after he tells you what he sees there. Is that clear?"

I didn't have time to think about what was going on. The guard lifted the receiver of the phone and handed it to me. He dialed the number and then handed the receiver to me.

"You can start suck my cock until he answers it," the guard said.

I held the receiver pressed to me left ear and gently took the guard's semi-stiff cock in my right hand. He moved close enough for me to feed the tip into my mouth. The shrill tone in my ear rang several times before being answered by my husband. I pulled my moistened lips off the guard's cock and quickly relayed the first instruction to my husband. I heard it click in the background. I then told him to look up the website before taking the guard's cock back into my mouth.

There was a brief silence and then the sound of tapping on the computer's keys. I kept sucking quietly on the cock, masturbating it slowly while my head bobbed my mouth on the tip. I could feel it harden slightly in my hand.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" my husband finally interrupted my cock sucking.

"Um, just a minute," I said and pressed the cold mouthpiece of the phone against my breast. I looked up at the guard and asked, "What's he supposed to be looking at?"

"Tell him to add to the address, forward slash, slave802120 ... no spaces."

I passed on the message and then resumed sucking the guard's cock. There was a very long silence on the other end of the line. The dildo in my pussy started to hum pleasurable inside me. A tiny moan of delight resonated in the back of my mouth -- a tiny zephyr of breath blew briefly the forefinger of my hand holding the swelling cock.

The phone remained pressed tightly against my ear and I listened for any sort of response at all from my husband. The line was still open, and so I imagined he was simply busy reading whatever was on the web page he was sent to. Each minute or so, the vibrations would suddenly stop in one dildo and begin in the other. All the while the guard's cock continued to grow solid in my hand and mouth. Still my husband remained silent.

The vibrations in my ass and pussy soon became more noticeable. Each dildo felt like it had a mind of its own, and together twisted and squirmed in my holes without any particular rhythm. It became increasingly more difficult to remain quiet, and I sucked hard on the Guard's cock hoping to silence my moans of perverted delight. Still no response from my husband.

"Start fucking yourself," the guard whispered into my free ear. "Start moving your ass on those cocks!"

The tiniest movement to rise from the cocks caused an intense burning sensation in my stretched anus. I moaned quite loudly and gently dropped my weight back down. The wriggling of the cocks was actually less noticeable what I was fully seated on them. Each time I rose from them, attempting fractions of an inch at a time, the wildly erratic swiveling actions of the dildos became more intense and torturous.

"Faster. Fuck yourself faster," he whispered again.

An "ah" sound -- a cry of distress -- rushed from my mouth around his cock with increasing intensity the higher my ass rose on the dildo. Sitting reversed the nose, making it sound like a loud, long moan of exquisite pleasure by the time I was fully seated again. The vibrations gradually numbed both holes to the point where I actually wanted to fuck myself harder and faster, just to savor the wonderful sensations of my ass sliding all the way from the top of the dildo to its base.

I became oblivious to my husband on the end of the line and just let myself buck up and down in a frenzied fit of self-gratification. The cock in my mouth leaked juices and my swallowing of them made me want to suck it in an even more ravenous way. Time stretched and distorted as a profound orgasm positioned itself on the fringes of my senses. I could feel it creeping toward me -- like a shimmering, hazy figure of a person emerging from a distant mirage. It was slow coming at first, but as I felt the cock in my mouth start to pulse, it rushed at me and caused me to shriek and jolt with every spasm of ecstasy it whipped me with.

The guard suddenly withdrew his twitching cock from my mouth and immediately began showering my face and hair with long, wispy strands of hot, slimy jism. My mouth, unexpectedly empty and hanging open, began to generate a howl so frightening in my ears that for a second it felt like I was exorcizing some demon from within. After that, I suddenly burst into a machine-gun rattle of laughter and threw the receiver from my hand so I could smear the fresh cum all over my face and breasts with both hands.

It took several minutes to even think about moving and by now, the guard was already half dressed and heading for the door. I gently eased my ass and pussy up off the dildos. My ass in particular throbbed a sore beat. As a vague sense of consciousness returned, I picked up the phone and put it to my ear. The line was dead.
