If you don't like sex stories, don't read it.
If you don't like stories about forced sex, don't read 
it.
If you are below the arbitrary age set for your area, 
don't read it.
If for any reason it is illegal for you to read this 
story, don't read it.

Copyright c 1998 Norm DePloom.  ALL Rights Reserved
This story may not be reproduced in any form for 
profit without the written permission of the author.  
This story may be freely distributed with this notice 
attached.  The author may be contacted at 
'MyStores at normdeploom dot com'

All the characters and events in this story are 
fictional, any resemblance to real people or events is 
entirely coincidental.

It's Only a Game
By
Norm DePloom

He told me to write and tell you how I became his 
devoted slave.  My name is...oh, He said not to use my 
name but just refer to myself as slut, whore or bitch 
just like He does.  He is somewhat older...OK, He says 
I have to be absolutely honest.  He is almost twice my 
age.  As far back as I can remember I've had this 
`thing' for older men.  I think it has to do with...He 
says to forget the analysis and get on with the story.  
He and I had been dating for several months, long 
enough that we had become intimate...He says not to 
use euphemisms.  We had been dating long enough that 
we were fucking on a regular basis.

One day while we were eating lunch in the almost empty 
employee lunchroom He told me a fantasy He was having.  
It was a fantasy about having me chained to a bed and 
using me as His private fuck/rape toy.  I was shocked.  
I was flabbergasted.  He had always been gentle and 
kind to me.  Somewhat authoritarian (which I think is 
what attracted me to him), but kind and gentle.

Lunch hour was over so I rushed back to my desk and 
avoided Him the rest of the day.  As I sat at my 
computer terminal., I couldn't get that image out of 
my mind.  I could see myself, naked, chained to the 
headboard, setting on a bare mattress waiting for Him 
to come back and fuck me again.  I started squirming 
in my chair and could feel my panties and panty hose 
getting soaked as that image floated in my mind.  

Finally I gave up and almost ran to the ladies room.
Once I was safely locked in one of the stalls I pulled 
down my panties and hose and sat on the toilet.  
Reaching between my legs I ran my fingertip up and 
down my swollen cunt lips.  The whole area was so wet 
with lubricant that my finger slipped easily inside 
me.  I bit my lower lip trying to keep from moaning as 
I pushed a second finger into my cunt and began to rub 
little circles on my clit with the other hand.

While I attended to the desperate need of my pussy I 
pictured my self once again on the bed, my hair was 
matted with sweat and cum, I had obviously been fucked 
many times without being allowed to wash my self.  He 
comes through the door.  He pushes me down on my 
stomach.  He holds me down while He pushes Himself 
deeply into me.  Oh god, I remember I came so hard I 
thought every one in the building would hear me 
despite the three knuckles I was biting into.  It was 
the best cum I'd ever had, with or without a cock 
inside me.  I fucked my self twice more before 
quitting time.  Always the same thing driving my need, 
the image of me chained to a bed and Him forcing 
Himself into my body.

The phone rang as soon as I got home.  It was Him.  He 
announced that He was coming over.  It's only a ten-
minute drive from his house to my apartment.  I spent 
that ten minutes trying not to picture my self chained 
to that bare bed, being fucked whenever He felt like 
it.  I also spent the time trying to deny the growing 
wetness of my panties.

I jumped when the doorbell rang.  I pulled my hand out 
of my crotch (I hadn't even realized that it was 
there), and hurried to the door to let Him in.  There 
was something different about Him when He walked into 
my living room that day.  That difference stirred a 
place deep in the pit of my stomach, a place I had 
never admitted even existed before.  He sat in his 
favorite chair, then indicated that I should sit on 
the couch.  As I walked to the couch and sat down I 
had the feeling that He had become the owner of my 
apartment and everything I owned.

"How many times did you masturbate this afternoon?"  
He asked with extreme bluntness.  I blushed deeper 
than I had ever blushed in my life.  I had never 
discussed my `personal' stuff with anybody before, not 
even the men I fucked.  I looked up at his face 
directly into his eyes, there was something in his 
look that compelled me to answer, and to tell the 
truth.

"Three times." I answered my blush deepening.  I felt 
embarrassment and humiliation sweeping over me.  To 
talk about my masturbating was bad enough, but to 
admit that I did it three times because of that image 
of myself chained to a bed was almost beyond what I 
could tolerate.

"We're going to act it out." He announced.

"Oh god, no." I said shaking my head.  I said `no' but 
I felt like a waterfall had been installed in my cunt.

"Don't worry," He assured me, "it's only a game."  He 
stood up and pulled me to my feet.  He walked me out 
to his car then got in himself and drove off into the 
darkening night.  I sat next to him.  I could feel his 
body heat.  It felt like I was on fire where ever He 
touched me.  I glanced down my rock hard nipples 
showed, even through my bra and blouse.  Looking lower 
I could see a dark circle forming in the crotch of my 
slacks where I'd leaked so much cunt lubricant that it 
was soaking through.  My hands were shaking with fear.  
Oh god, I thought, what have I gotten myself into now?
He drove us out into the country then pulled over on 
the side of a lonely, deserted road.  He got out of 
the car, then pulled me out after Him.  We walked to 
the back of the car and He opened the trunk.

"This," He announced, "is where the kidnapping will 
take place."  He proceeded to tie my hands behind my 
back, tie my legs together, blindfold me, and finally 
put tape over my mouth to gag me.  Terror and wetness 
grew in equal measure as I was bound.  After the 
binding was done, He pushed his hand down inside my 
slacks, panty hose and panties to feel my wet cunt.

"You really are a little slut aren't you?" He asked 
with a sneer.  Despite the gush from my cunt triggered 
by hearing myself called a slut, I felt hurt that He 
would talk to me like that.  He pulled his hand out of 
my pants then lifted me and dumped me into the trunk.  
I heard the trunk lid slam and tried to scream through 
my tape gag as the car jerked and bounced down the 
pothole filled road.  I have no idea how long we 
drove, and to this day I have no idea where He took 
me.  I remember He stopped twice to open the trunk 
lid, check that I was OK, feel my tits and cunt then 
slam the lid shut again.

The third time we stopped He lifted me out of the 
trunk and, after untying my legs walked me into a 
building.  I bumped into walls a few times but finally 
He sat me down on the edge of a bed.  I felt something 
stiff being put around my neck.  He stuck His hand 
between it and my neck to check its tightness.  I 
heard chains rattling as He worked with the collar 
around my neck.

I felt him pulling at the corner of the tape over my 
eyes, then I screamed through the tape over my mouth 
as He suddenly jerked the tape from my eyes in one 
motion.  I looked around me.  I was in a bare room.  
There was nothing on the walls.  The only piece of 
furniture was the bed I'd been chained to.  The walls 
were dull, dirty white.  One almost too bright light 
shone from the ceiling fixture.  There was one door 
leading from the room, and no windows.  I was setting 
on the edge of a bare mattress on an ornate but 
tarnished brass bed.

He left the tape over my mouth and untied my hands.  I 
watched the bulge in his pants while He worked.  I 
wanted that in me more than I ever had before.  After 
untying my hands He laid me on the bed and immediately 
tied my hands to the headboard.  Then He shortened the 
chain so I could only lift my head about six inches 
off the mattress before I started choking my self.  At 
this point I was truly helpless, truly under his 
complete control, my very life depended on keeping him 
happy.  He ran his hands over my body on top of my 
clothing.  When He got to the wet crotch of my slacks 
He dug His fingers in deeply pushing the material 
against my clit and cunt.  I moaned through my gag and 
moved my hips pushing my aching cunt against His hand.

"God what a dirty little whore." He said as He turned 
and left the room. Lying on the bed I had to squeeze 
my eyes shut because of the bright light. Tears leaked 
down my temples and dripped off my ears onto the bare 
mattress.  It's only a game He'd said.  I didn't want 
to play any more.  He walked back into the room.  He 
had changed into a pair of sweat pants.  He pulled a 
wicked looking bowie knife from behind his back.  My 
eyes must have bulged out like a cartoon character.  
Now I really didn't want to play any more.

I squealed and screamed and begged through the tape 
gag as that knife came closer and closer to my face.  
The point of the knife loomed only a half-inch from my 
eyes.  Terror is the only word that comes to mind.  
Terror and extreme wetness like my cunt had become a 
fountain.  He put the point of the knife on my skin, 
it was cold, I could feel its sharpness.  He slowly 
moved the point down over my chin and down my neck.

"If I were you," He warned, "I'd lay perfectly still."  
My body was trembling all over, but I stayed as still 
as I could.  He moved the knife over my clothes, not 
cutting, just dragging the tip.  Then in a lightening 
fast move He slashed my blouse from just under my left 
breast all the way to the mattress.  As He again moved 
the knifepoint over my clothes, I closed my eyes, I 
squeezed them tight.  I thought I could stay still 
better if I didn't watch the knife moving over my 
body.  I felt a stinging slap on my cheek, my head 
jerked to the side.

"Open your eyes, bitch." He yelled at me.  Then He 
stuck a small pillow under the back of my head to make 
it easier for me to watch the knife action.  I cried 
and got angry as the knife slashed at my clothes.  I 
was wearing my brand new blouse and slacks.  I had 
only worn them once before.  I had paid more for them 
than I usually do to impress Him.  The pattern 
continued, He would play the knifepoint over my 
clothes and skin then, with a sudden flick of his 
wrist lash out and slash more of my clothing away.  It 
must have taken an hour before my naked body was lying 
on top of the torn rags that used to be my clothes.

His sweat pants were tented out where His hard cock 
pressed against the soft cottony inside.  He looked at 
me then placed the point of his knife on the front of 
His sweat shorts and slashed downward.  Oh god no, I 
thought, I was afraid He was going to cut His cock off 
and I desperately needed to be fucked.  The fabric 
parted and His large hard cock slipped into view 
sticking out through the newly created fly.  It looked 
beautiful, I would have licked my lips if they hadn't 
been taped shut.

I wanted to beg Him to fuck me.  I could not remember 
ever being as scared as I'd been when He was slashing 
my clothes, and I could not remember ever needing to 
be fucked as much as I did right that moment.  With 
His hard cock sticking out the front of His sweat 
pants He approached me with the knife again.  This 
time He teased every inch of my skin with the point, 
edge and flat of the cold steel knife.

When He reached my breasts He spiraled the knifepoint 
up the breast until it was resting on my nipple.  He 
slowly increased the pressure while I held my breath 
afraid to move.  Slowly the point sank into the 
crinkled skin of my erect nipple.  He just barely 
pushed it into the skin, then pulled it out.  A drop 
of red blood appeared on the nipple.  He leaned over 
and after licking the drop of blood from my rock hard 
nipple, pulled my nipple into his warm wet mouth and 
sucked on it like He was trying to get more blood.

I moaned deeply as He sucked on my nipple.  My breath 
was coming in ragged gasps.  My body was covered with 
sweat from fear and from the temperature in the room.  
He released my nipple and moved the knife down over my 
heaving stomach.  He twirled it in my belly button 
before moving it further down through my pubic hair.  
He stopped right at the top of my cunt, just above my 
clit.

"Lift your legs and spread them as wide as you can." 
He ordered.  I did as I was told.  "Now, if you 
treasure your clit be perfectly still."  I froze, more 
in terror than by my will.  I watched with horror 
filled eyes as He flicked the point of His razor sharp 
knife back and forth over my clit.  After playing with 
my clit He moved down lower and began to gently pry my 
sticky cunt lips apart with the knifepoint.  Using the 
thumb and index finger of his other hand He held my 
cunt lips open as He carefully moved the knifepoint 
over the inside walls of my cunt opening.

My cunt was so wet His knife slipped over the walls 
with no resistance.  He scooped a bunch of my juices 
up with the knife blade then, bringing the knife up to 
his mouth, licked them off the blade while He stared 
into my eyes.  I felt another gush of liquid oozing 
out of my cunt and running down toward my asshole.  
God I wanted this man to fuck me.  Wanted? No. I 
needed him to fuck me.  I needed to be fucked hard, so 
hard it hurt.  I was trembling with fear but I was 
afraid of my emotions and overpowering lust not the 
knife He was using to stimulate my body.  I was afraid 
of my need to be fucked like a nasty whore and then 
left waiting to be fucked again.

All my life, even when I was `fucking around' I had 
denied and tried to hide this dark side of my soul.  
Now I had no choice but to give into it, to let it 
wash over me and take over my mind and body.  Please 
fuck me, I yelled through the gag as I stared into His 
bright shinning eyes.  He gently laid his hand on my 
trembling stomach.  With His other hand He grabbed the 
tape gagging my mouth and ripped it off my face.

"OH GOD."  I screamed partially from pain and 
partially from mindless lust.  "Please fuck me..."  My 
request was interrupted by another slap that snapped 
my head over the other direction.  I was sure I now 
had red handprints on each of my cheeks.

"Shut the fuck up."  He said with cold menace in his 
voice.  "No body gives a fuck what a nasty little 
whore like you thinks or wants."  He ran his hands 
over my naked breasts then down over my trembling 
stomach.  "You will not speak again unless I ask you a 
question or give you permission."

"But..." He slipped his hand into my pubic bush, then 
grabbed a handful and almost picked me up off the bed 
by my pubic hair.

"Are you that stupid?" He asked me.  He began to twist 
his handful of pubic hair. "I ask you a question, 
slut."

"NO" I screamed in pain.

"Then why," He asked as He released His grip on my 
pubic hair then gently rubbed my pubic bush like He 
was trying to erase the pain He had just caused, 
"don't you follow the simple rules I lay out for you?"  
He looked at me quizzically, then began to tighten his 
grip on my pubic hair when I did not answer quickly 
enough.

"I don't know." I sobbed.  To my astonishment my cunt 
continued to beg for a fucking through all of this 
pain and humiliation.  If anything my need grew 
stronger with the pain and humiliation.

"Of course you don't." He said, once again soothing my 
pubic region with gentle massage.  "We can't expect a 
slutty little cunt to know why she does anything."  He 
moved His hand lower, curling one finger over my clit 
and into my sopping wet cunt.  My pelvis spasmed and 
jerked my cunt up against the invading finger.

"Oh, does my lil slut want to be fucked?"  He teased 
me as He sank a second finger into me.

"Yessssss.' I hissed in utter desperation.  "Yesss, 
please fuck me." I begged with no regard for how 
slutty I sounded.  Still fucking his fingers in and 
out of my cunt He moved around and knelt on the bed 
beside my head.  Leaning over, He pushed the head of 
his hard cock against my lips.

"You've got to suck me first." He announced, as He 
pulled His fingers from my wet cunt and teased my clit 
with the tip of one finger.  I spread my lips and 
sucked His cock into my hot wet mouth more eagerly 
than I had ever welcomed a cock before.

With expert precision He flicked my clit and kept me 
right on the brink of orgasm while I sucked His hard 
cock deeper and deeper into my mouth.  I had never 
`deep throated' a man before.  I had always gagged and 
pulled back, so I was completely surprised when my 
nose was tickled by His kinky pubic hair.  In my lust 
and need to be fucked I had taken Him into my throat 
without gagging.

With His right hand He continued teasing my clit.  
With His left hand supporting Him self He began to 
pump his cock in and out of my open mouth.  I could 
feel the head of his hard cock fucking in and out of 
my throat with each stroke.  Having my mouth fucked 
like it was a cunt turned out to be not so difficult 
after all.  I just relaxed and swirled my tongue over 
as much of His cock shaft as I could reach.  That and 
sucking in a breath of air every time his cock head 
was pulled out far enough to allow it.
Every time His finger flicked across my swollen clit 
I'd moan against His cock in frustration.  I kept 
thinking that if He'd just flicked it a hundredth of a 
second sooner I'd have cum.  As I moved my hips trying 
to push my clit harder against His teasing finger I 
could feel a large wet spot already developing on the 
bed under my ass.

He moaned a deep growly moan and pushed His cock as 
far down my throat as it would go.  I felt it 
twitching deep in my throat as He pumped cum directly 
into my stomach.  I began to panic, my air was cut off 
and He seemed to be in no hurry to let His `lil slut' 
breath again.  My body began to buck against Him in 
desperation.  Finally He slowly pulled His cock from 
deep in my throat and I gasped for air.

I laid on the bed panting for a few minutes before I 
came to the conclusion that He must be right.  I must 
be one of the world's biggest sluts.  I'd just had my 
mouth raped and my need to be fucked was stronger and 
more urgent than ever.  I didn't want to get slapped 
again (although as I thought back on it I realized 
that each slap was accompanied by a renewed flow of 
lubricant in my cunt) so I stayed quite and waited to 
see what He was going to do next.  I began to gyrate 
my hips, with my legs spread, hoping to entice him 
with the sluttiness of my display.  I felt both 
humiliated and excited by the slutty display I was 
putting on trying to get Him to notice my aching need 
to be fucked.

I was encouraged by the fact that His cock stayed hard 
even after dumping a load down my throat, but my hopes 
for an immediate fucking disappeared when He turned 
and walked from the room.  I pulled on my wrist 
restraints, but they were tight and I could not get my 
hands loose.  All I would have done if I could have 
gotten a hand loose is to fuck my own cunt.  He walked 
back into the room.

"Oh God no." I screamed when I saw what He was 
carrying.  I crossed my legs to hide my wet cunt and 
pulled my elbows in trying to cover my tits while I 
attempted to turn my body away from him.  He held His 
Polaroid SX70 camera up and grinned at me.

"No!" I yelled at him, "No, you're not going to take 
pictures of me like this."  God, how could I allow 
pictures like this?  No telling what would be done 
with them.  I'd just die if any of my family or 
friends saw them.  I could just imagine the snickering 
and whispered name-calling I'd have to suffer through 
if they got out at work.  My reputation would be 
ruined.  My parents would have heart attacks if they 
saw them.  Never in my life, I told myself, would I 
cooperate with this picture taking.

I waited, expecting a slap on the but, or for him to 
sit down on the bed and try to talk me into letting 
him take the pictures.  Other men had tried to talk me 
into it and I'd never allowed them to.  To my surprise 
He stepped over to the foot of the bed and grabbed my 
left ankle (the one on top) and pulled my legs apart 
as easily as I would have a wishbone.  Holding my leg 
up He pointed the camera at my crotch and pushed the 
shutter button.  The flash went off directly into my 
eyes since I had been looking directly into the camera 
without realizing it.

I heard the whir of the camera's motor and the square 
undeveloped picture popped out.  He took the picture 
from the camera and sat on the foot of the bed with 
his back to me.  Realizing that He was going to take 
the pictures whether I wanted him to or not, I began 
to cry softly.  I wanted to burrow my face into the 
mattress, but I could not get turned over that far.

"Please," I begged him softly letting my sobs be heard 
hoping to soften his heart.  "Please don't take 
pictures of me like this."  I waited a minute for a 
response then continued.  "You said it was just a 
game...I don't want this to be part of the game."

"Did I ask you a question?" He finally responded 
without turning around.

"No." I answered meekly.

"Then shut the fuck up." He barked at me. "I don't 
give a damn what you want or don't want to be part of 
the game."  He turned and looked at me in a way that 
actually scared me.  "I say what's in the game and 
what's not."  He grabbed my ankle again and pulled me 
onto my back.  "You just do as your fucking told."  He 
held the developed picture up where I could see it.  I 
was amazed, the surprised look on my face was almost 
comical.  But what really startled me was how clearly 
you could see the wetness shining on my cunt lips, 
pubic hair, and even the tops of my inner thighs.  It 
was obvious that I was incredibly turned on by what 
was being done to me.

"Now," He continued as He pinned the picture up on the 
wall where I could see it but would not be able to 
reach it.  "I have a picture that proves what a dirty 
little slut you are, so you might as well cooperate 
with the rest of them."  He grinned at me.  "You know 
I'll take them anyway."  He was right, I reasoned, 
what use was there in fighting it.

"Lift your legs and spread them just as far as you 
can." He ordered.  Even though I had decided that 
cooperation was the best policy it took all of my will 
power to force my legs up and apart.  I watched as He 
moved the camera in close, about a foot from my cunt 
and snapped another picture.  Then He moved back and 
took a picture looking up between my lifted and 
separated legs so my tits and face could be seen 
framed by my cunt and my spread legs.

"Lick your lips and give the camera lens the sluttiest 
look you can manage." I licked my lips and tried to 
look slutty for the camera.  To my amazement I was 
beginning to ooze cunt juice again.  My nipples were 
rock hard and I was really enjoying looking slutty for 
the camera.  I knew these pictures would give Him a 
level of control over my life that no one else had 
ever had and, I suddenly admitted to myself, I loved 
it.  Suddenly a feeling of freedom and liberation 
flowed over my body.  I spread my legs even further, 
tried harder to look like a whore and a slut for Him.

"Fifty dollars for a fuck?" I said playing out the 
part of the whore.  He laughed at me.  I felt crushed 
and humiliated.

"Fifty dollars?" He asked sarcastically.  "You're a 
ten dollar whore."  I felt like crying.  I didn't mind 
being a whore for Him, but I wanted to be at least a 
fifty-dollar whore.  I thought of myself as a classy 
call girl type, well dressed, seeing an exclusive 
clientele.  He pushed my legs even further apart, then 
spread my cunt lips apart with his fingers so he could 
take a picture looking right down into my still wet 
pussy.

"You my dear are a ten dollar whore.  A slut walking 
the streets willing to do anything any man wants for 
ten dollars."  He turned and walked out of the room 
leaving me leaking tears and staring at the bright 
light in the ceiling.  I didn't want to be a ten-
dollar whore, but what choice did I have?  As it stood 
He could actually sell me for ten dollars and I 
couldn't stop Him.  A moment later He came back into 
the room and pushed a folded up ten-dollar bill into 
my wet cunt then took several pictures of it.  There 
was no question what those pictures communicated.  
They went up on the wall with the rest of the pictures 
and He left the room again.  Leaving me with the ten-
dollar bill still in my cunt.

He came back moments later with a can of shaving cream 
and a couple of towels.  After pulling the now wet 
ten-dollar bill from my pussy he squirted the cream on 
my pubies and began to rub it in.  I had never had my 
pubic hair shaved before.  I had always thought it was 
a really slutty thing to do.  I mean what good decent 
girl would shave of her pubic hair and expose her 
cunt.  I tried to picture what I was going to look 
like without my pubic hair.  I pictured a bare `little 
girl' looking slit with my wet pouty cunt lips 
sticking out saying `hi' to the world.

Once He had me `all lathered up' He produced that 
menacing looking bowie knife from underneath the bed.  
I started to pull away when it approached my crotch, 
then decided I'd better lay still and let Him do what 
He wanted to.  The process of having my pubic hair 
scraped off with that huge gleaming bowie knife 
ignited my passion once again.  The pulling on the 
skin, His hands pulling my pussy this way and that to 
get at my pubic hair soon had my cunt dripping more 
than ever.  He finished the shave and after wiping off 
the remnants of the shaving lotion with a towel, ran 
his hands over my crotch to test its smoothness.
God, I never expected the wonderful feeling of his 
warm hands on my now bare skin.  When he wasn't 
touching me I could feel every little air current that 
wafted by my cunt.  My clit stuck out above my wet 
cunt lips and begged for attention.  After taking 
several minutes to feel the smoothness of my freshly 
shaved skin He ran his hand down over my cunt, curling 
one of his fingers into my hot oh so wet pussy.   I 
moaned loudly with the pleasure of his hand on my bare 
skin and his finger probing into me.

"Oh god please fuck me." I begged on the verge of 
crying from frustration.  He moved his finger in and 
out of me a few more times then removed his hand from 
my crotch.

"No," he said, "you're not ready yet."  I began to 
cry, I cried like a little baby and begged Him to fuck 
me.  He watched me cry and smiled that wicked smile 
that sends chills down my spine even today then turned 
and left the room again.  I crossed my legs and rubbed 
my thighs together trying to bring myself to orgasm.  
He must have been watching me, He came back into the 
room just before I started to cum.

"Stop that you dirty little whore." He bellowed so 
loud that it made me jump.  I had closed my eyes both 
because of the bright light and to help with my 
fantasy while I rubbed my legs together.  My fantasy 
had been simple He was fucking me hard and fast 
instead of leaving me chained and frustrated while he 
played with me and tortured me with pleasure.  He 
stormed across the room and ordered me to spread my 
legs.

"If you close your legs you will really be sorry." He 
warned me I spread my legs as ordered and watched as 
He produced a yard stick from behind His back and in 
one motion slammed it down across my cunt.  I remember 
I screamed.  I also remember I came, hard, harder than 
I ever had before in my life.  As He pulled the 
yardstick back and prepared to slam it down on my cunt 
again I felt my clit and my cunt lips throbbing.  The 
orgasmic wave subsided and it took all of my will 
power to hold my legs apart while I waited for the 
second blow from the yardstick.  I wanted to close my 
legs.  I wanted to protect my tender flesh from the 
bite and sting of that cruel wood stick.

I don't remember how many times he brought that 
yardstick down on my clit and pussy.  I only remember 
that each time it hurt worse than anything I'd ever 
felt.  It hurt, but it also sent waves of orgasmic 
pleasure through my body.  I'd heard about pain and 
pleasure mixing together but until that moment I had 
never really believed that it was true.  Don't get me 
wrong it hurt like a bitch, but that pain drove my 
orgasm to levels of intensity I never new existed.  
And to be truthful, the intensity of those orgasms 
scared me more than the pain of the pussy spanking.
The intensity of the orgasms scared me because I new 
from the very first blow of that yardstick on my 
freshly shaved cunt that I was addicted to those 
intense orgasms and that I would do anything, and I 
mean anything, to have them again.  I also knew beyond 
any doubt that if He could make me cum like that then 
I would be his slave forever.

After the last blow he turned and walked out of the 
room leaving me writhing naked on the bare mattress.  
My cunt hurt from the blows and I was panting from 
multiple orgasms but I still had an over whelming need 
to be fucked.  Even the most intense cum does not 
satisfy my need to have a cock slamming into my cunt.  
Eventually I fell into an uneasy sleep and began to 
dream.

In my dream I was moaning loudly and desperately for a 
fuck.  He came into the room and set up a table with a 
cash register on it.  Through the open door I could 
see a line of men stretching out to the horizon.  He 
started calling in a loud voice like a carnival 
barker.

"Step right up and ride the whore.  Only ten dollars 
per ride.  Step right up.  Pay your Ten spot and ride 
the slut."  In my dream I as so desperate for a fuck 
that I could hardly wait for the first man to climb 
onto me.  The dream dissolved into a surrealistic 
montage of men climbing onto me to `ride the whore', 
His voice urging them to pay their ten bucks for a 
slut ride, and Him occasionally stopping the men to 
take a picture of my cunt.  After labeling each 
picture with the number of men who had fucked me and 
the amount of money collected, He would pin them up on 
the wall then go back to the cash register.

With all these men climbing on and off of me in the 
dream you'd think my need to be fucked would get 
satisfied, but it only made it worse.  The feeling of 
frustration kept building.  It seemed that the more 
the men in the dream fucked me the more desperate I 
got for a real fuck.  Suddenly I snapped awake hearing 
my own voice screaming at him to fuck me.
I laid on the bed, my hands and neck still chained to 
the headboard, and stared at the bright light directly 
over me.  My breathing was hard and raspy.  I squeezed 
my thighs together realizing that I needed to pee, 
desperately.  I was going to have to call to him and 
tell him that.  I put it off as long as I could.  
Having to tell him that I needed to pee was just too 
humiliating.

You need to understand I've always had problems with 
going to the bathroom.  If I think anyone will be able 
to hear the pee hitting the water I always turn on the 
faucet and the exhaust fan if there is one.  At work I 
tell my co-workers that I'm going to get a coke then 
stop by the bathroom on the way back.  Even at home 
when He was there, even if we'd just fucked, I'd close 
the door and turn on the water and the fan before I 
would pee.  I always thought men were lucky, they 
could aim their pee at the porcelain above the water 
line so no one would hear them.

Finally I had to call to him.  If I waited any longer 
I'd pee on the bed, and I just knew that He'd make me 
lay in it all night.  I yelled out `Hey, I've got to 
pee'.  It seemed like an hour passed, I was squeezing 
my legs together trying not to dribble on the bed.  I 
was just about to yell again when He walked into the 
room.  I could tell immediately that this was going to 
be embarrassing, he was carrying a large metal pot and 
his camera.

He untied my hands then loosened the chain attached to 
my collar.  I was led to the foot of the brass bed 
then told to squat with my back against the foot of 
the bed.  He made me reach over my shoulders and hold 
on to the brass footboard.  Then he pushed my elbows 
and my knees as far apart as he could get them.  I 
could feel my face burning with embarrassment already.  
He stood back and snapped a couple of pictures of me 
kneeling with my legs spread.  All I could think of 
was how humiliating this was going to be.  That, and 
how much I wanted Him to fuck me.

He placed the metal pot under me, then produced a 
small recorder from the pocket of His sweat pants and 
after starting it running placed it right beside the 
metal pot.  Then he stood there looking at me.  
Watching me and waiting. I could see His cock growing 
inside his pants.  I looked up at His face and saw the 
superior looking smirk on His mouth.  Despite the 
desperateness of my need to pee, I couldn't relax and 
let it flow.  Every time I started to relax I would 
think about the sound it was going to make hitting 
that empty metal put underneath me, and I'd clamp down 
again.

He reached down and began to stroke himself through 
His sweat pants while He watched me struggling with my 
humiliation and need to pee.  Finally the need to pee 
overcame my humiliation and embarrassment and I 
relaxed.  The sound of my pee hitting the bottom of 
the pot seemed to be louder than anything I'd ever 
heard.  He immediately began to take pictures as fast 
as the camera would operate.  Close ups of the pee 
squirting out of me and overall shots showing my red 
face looking directly into the camera.

It seemed like the stream of pee splashing into the 
metal pot would go on forever.  When it was finally 
over He dabbed me dry with a handkerchief, it felt 
like a jolt of high voltage electricity surged through 
my body when he touched me.  Then picked up the pot 
and recorder and walked out of the room.  He had not 
given me permission to move so I stayed, kneeling 
against the foot of the bed holding onto the brass 
railing over my shoulders with my legs and knees as 
far open as I could hold them.

When He came back into the room, He walked over and 
stood in front of me I looked up into his intense 
eyes.  I wanted to beg him to fuck me.  I momentarily 
thought that he was going to pee on me and the thought 
sent an unexpected thrill through me.  He pulled His 
hard cock out of his pants and pushed it up against my 
lips.  I sucked him eagerly into my mouth.  I'd always 
loved sucking on his cock, and I'd always loved the 
taste of his cum.  The only problem was that I was 
aching to be fucked.  I felt it like a physical need, 
like hunger, like thirst.  I don't know how to get 
across to you how much of this was a real physical 
need, not just a desire.

I admit, I whimpered like a dog when he pulled his 
cock out of my mouth.  God, I thought, if your not 
going to fuck me at least let me suck on it.  He 
pulled me to my feet and after turning me around 
pushed me forward over the brass railing.  My head, 
tits and stomach were lying on the bare mattress.  I 
spread my legs in eager anticipation.  At last, I 
thought He's going to fuck me.  I felt the head of his 
cock rubbing up and done my wet cunt lips.  Don't 
tease me, I thought, I can't stand it.  I felt like 
I'd die if he didn't push His cock inside me.

"Does my little slut want to be fucked?" He asked me 
teasingly.

"Oh god yes," I answered, "please fuck me."

"What are you willing to do to get fucked?" His tone 
became much more serious.

"Anything," I whimpered, "god I'll do anything for you 
just fuck me." I continued to beg.

"Tell me what," He demanded continuing to tease me 
with his cockhead, "and be specific."

"Every thing I have," a sobbed, "you can have it all."

"Will you give your body to me?" he asked. "Forever?"

"Yes, it's yours." I answered without hesitation.

"Will you give me your soul?" he asked with total 
seriousness.

"Yes, it's yours."  I felt a sudden release inside me.  
I realized that this was what I'd wanted for years.  
Total submission to a man.  "Yes, I'll gladly trade my 
freedom and dignity for a fuck." I finished.  It must 
have pleased Him, He sank His large hard cock into me 
in one powerful thrust.  I felt like I was being taken 
more thoroughly than I had ever been taken before and 
I started cuming before he was done with His first 
stroke.

The rest of that fuck is pretty much a blur in my 
memory.  I was cuming the whole time.  I remember I 
screamed repeatedly for him to fuck me harder and 
harder.  I remember promising over and over to be His 
slut, His whore, His slave. I fucked myself back onto 
his cock with more enthusiasm than I'd shown for a 
fuck in many years.  I screamed every dirty, filthy, 
slutty, whorish thing I could think of while he 
pounded into me like a jackhammer.

I don't remember the fuck ending.  I just remember 
that sometime later I was lying in His arms on the 
bed.  I was still chained by the neck to the brass 
rail on the headboard, but I no longer cared.  He 
could keep me chained there as long as He wanted.  I 
snuggled into His neck and kissed gently just below 
His ear. Then I whispered `thank you Master'.  I 
didn't have to be instructed to call Him `Master'.  I 
new down to my very core that He was my Master and 
that He always would be.



  
ItsOnlyAGame