Author's Note: sex doesn't stop at forty, or after kids, and neither should bondage. But, always, beware what you wish for.
Update (2012/09/11): Someone commented that they didn't understand the italics. This represents her inner monologue, her thoughts at the time of the events. Its i the present tense and is meant to provide immediacy. Enjoy!
Update (2012/09/27): Nearly 9,000 views, a 4.7 rating, and only 11 comments?? It makes me want to give up writing. If you read it, make a comment, it takes 2 minutes and its anonymous.
Update (2012/10/27): Okay, I'm over my petulant little hissy fit, thanks for your comments. But don't stop now! Keep 'em coming!
Update (2012/11/03): All good things must come to an end. Thanks for all your comments! Please let me know what you think of the ending.
I knew I shouldn't have done it, of course I did - you don't fuck your daughter's boyfriend, it's Parenting 101. I have no excuses. But there were extenuating circumstances.
I had just had my fortieth birthday, a watershed in any woman's life. I was five years divorced, two years since I'd had a serious relationship, and over a year since I'd had sex with anything other than my vibrator. My attempts to get a man were hampered by the fact that my 18 year old daughter, Ella, still lived at home.
My daughter and I had a love-hate relationship - I loved her unconditionally, because she was my daughter, and she hated me implacably, because I was her mother. I was also the one to blame, in her eyes, for driving her beloved father into the arms of the Italian slut he now lived with in Rome. She hardly saw him, mainly because he didn't want a stroppy teenager invading his love nest and 'cramping his style', but apparently that was my fault as well.
Since puberty, she had always punished me by parading her wildly inappropriate relationships in front of me. She had delighted in telling me she had lost her virginity at fourteen, with a 17 year old boy, in the toilets at a disco she got into illegally. I ground my teeth and told her it was fine as long as she was using protection. This just made her mad.
There followed a string of boyfriends on my sofa - punks, layabouts, borderline criminals - 'sucking face', heavy petting and, on at least one occasion, having sex. They were always older than her, and it was clear that Ella had developed a reputation as an 'easy lay', a slut who always 'put out' on a first date. It was killing me to watch her destroy her life to punish me, but I knew if I said anything it would only make it worse.
When she got a weekend job at 16, she saw it as an opportunity to buy her own clothes, and she took to exclusively wearing miniskirts and hot pants, low-cut tops and ridiculously slutty high heels. Her body had developed pretty spectacularly too. I had always had big boobs and, since breast-feeding, wore a 36DD bra. I knew, as I still did her washing and was expected to buy her 'normal' clothes, that she wore a 32D bra, and she loved to flaunt her body, both to annoy me and to attract the boys.
And, for a brief period, the girls. That had been a weird fortnight, when she came home with Alex, a crop-haired bull-dyke, I think is the phrase, and, as well as kissing openly in front of me, had made sure I saw them on the sofa with her hand in my daughter's pants. I soon put a stop to that, however, by telling Ella how much I liked Alex and how I was glad she had found someone she could really relate to - Alex was history by the end of the week. Reverse psychology is a wonderful thing.
But then there was Adrian. It was a Friday night about 7 o'clock, when I heard the door open and guessed Ella had finally made it back from school. I had my head under the kitchen sink trying to fix a small leak, and didn't bother to look to see - she would probably have just blanked me anyway.
"Hi, mum, lovely view!"
I extricated myself and looked around. There was my daughter, still in her school uniform, skirt hitched up to well above mid-thigh, white blouse unbuttoned to show her bra and tied in front to show her midriff, heavy eye make-up and plum lipstick - the archetypal slutty schoolgirl. But next to her stood the most gorgeous hunk of a guy I had seen in a long time. Elegantly dressed in chinos, smart shirt and, I immediately noticed, good, clean shoes, he looked cool and sophisticated as he smiled confidently down at me.
That's when I realised I was kneeling on the kitchen floor, wearing dirty slacks, a crumpled T-shirt and yellow rubber gloves, no make-up, my hair tied loosely up and sweat on my brow. I probably smelled odd too. Then I remembered what Ella had just said, and realised his first view of me had been of my fat arse, covered in stretched lycra, with visible panty lines on display. I was mortified.
I scrambled to my feet, Ella disappeared upstairs to change, and suddenly I was alone with him. I was totally flustered, offered him a glass of wine, which he accepted gracefully and politely, and apologised for my 'disgusting' appearance.
"You look wonderful, Mrs Henderson," he lied gallantly.
"Oh please," I twittered, "I look a mess, and call me Julia." Good grief, I thought, what am I, 13?
"Ella hasn't mentioned you before."
"I'm sorry, Julia, let me introduce myself," he said smoothly, holding out his hand, "I'm Adrian, your daughter and I have only been out a couple of times, she was probably waiting to see how it went before introducing me." Well, I thought, I suppose there's a first time for everything. His hand was smooth, his handshake firm and confident, without being bone-crushing.
It doesn't matter how few clothes my daughter wears, she still takes forever to get ready. I spent a rather intoxicating hour finding out all about Adrian. I learned he was 30, a city trader, unmarried (although he'd been in a long relationship with a French woman), owned his own house and car, had been privately educated, gone to Cambridge University, and enjoyed riding and playing sports, tennis and squash particularly. What the hell are you doing with my slutty daughter, I thought. She must be good in bed!
Finally Ella reappeared, and I was surprised to see her wearing a quite tasteful summer dress. Too low cut, ridiculously short, and teamed with ludicrous clear plastic shoes with two-inch platforms and six-inch heels, but still better than what she usually wore.
"That's a nice dress," I said, trying not to sound suspicious.
"Adrian bought it for me," she said, trying to sound as smug as possible, "he likes to see me in it, almost as much as he likes to see me out of it."
I was impressed - not that he was seeing my daughter naked on the second date, but that she had found someone who would buy her nice, expensive presents on a second date! Definitely a keeper.
Off they went, and I realised I had had a little too much to drink while Adrian was there. I remembered rather too much giggling for a grown woman, possibly some inappropriate touching of his arm... I took myself off for a shower and an early night.
I woke up in the night when there was a noise downstairs. It was after midnight, and I wasn't expecting Ella back tonight. I got out of bed and put on my silk dressing gown - there was a heatwave, almost unheard of in England, and I was sleeping naked - before sneaking downstairs to investigate. I had just reached the hallway, when Adrian suddenly stepped out of the lounge in front of me, giving both of us a fright.
"I'm sorry, Julia, did we wake you?" he asked with what sounded like genuine concern. I realised I was once again at a disadvantage in my own home, this time nearly naked!
"No, I just wasn't sure..." I trailed off as I saw him glance down momentarily at my chest, and I looked down. My nipples were standing out through the thin material like little bullets, and I immediately went bright red as I put my arm across the offending area.
"Oh! No problem! I'll leave you two to it!" I blustered, before scurrying back up the stairs and into the safety of my room, where I could properly experience my mortifying embarrassment. After calming my heart rate, I took off the dressing gown and got back into bed, but I couldn't get back to sleep, I just lay there imagining what he must be thinking of me now - flirty, then drunk, then half naked and aroused... it didn't look, or feel, very good.
I was hot, in more ways than one, too hot to sleep. I lay there for about half an hour, the covers thrown back, sweltering and obsessing. Suddenly, I started to hear noises. It sounded like they were getting amorous, but the noise was coming from downstairs rather than Ella's bedroom - were they actually having sex in my kitchen, with me right above them?! For some unknown reason, I had to find out. I crept out of bed and listened by the door. The sounds were definitely coming from downstairs and, even though they were indistinct, I could tell the sound of someone - my own daughter - in the throes of passion.
In another inexplicable move, I put my dressing gown back on and sneaked out onto the landing. The noise was unmistakable, but still strangely indistinct - I could hear Ella saying something, but couldn't make out a single word. After a few minutes, it became clear her excitement was building, and from the rhythmic nature of her muffled cries, it was obvious she was being fucked pretty hard. Again, I know I should have gone back to my room and try to ignore it, but for some reason I just sat there on the carpet at the top of the stairs, listening to my daughter getting what I desperately wanted. My hands strayed to the belt of my dressing gown, and it was open, and my fingers were in my pubic hair...
I'm not sure how I stopped myself fingering my pussy as I heard Ella cumming, loudly, passionately, and for a long time. As she finally fell silent, I waited, holding my breath, wondering what would happen next. Suddenly, I saw Adrian walk into the hall, and I was just about to crawl back to my room, when I saw Ella follow him, and she was stark naked!
The sight seemed to freeze me to the spot, and all I could do was watch as they went to the front door, then turned and kissed. It was clear that Adrian was going to leave, but I just kept looking down at them. As they broke the kiss, Adrian flashed a look directly at me. I fell back in panic. Oh crap! Did he see me? I scuttled across the landing and back into my room, trying to close my door silently but quickly. I sat there on the floor, eyes closed, wondering what the hell was happening to me. I was acting like a child, spying on the grown-ups, then touching myself up, masturbating in the dark. I dragged my fingers out of my desperate little pussy and dragged myself to my bed. Eventually, I managed to fall into a troubled and unsatisfying sleep.
"So, what do you think of Adrian?" Ella asked as she wandered into the bathroom, ignoring the fact that I was already in there - no sense of personal space or privacy, that girl. She started wiping off her make-up as I dried myself after my shower.
I had slept badly, unable to get images of Ella and Adrian fucking out of my mind. Soon, the mental image had changed to Adrian and me fucking, and I felt deeply ashamed of such thoughts.
What did I think of Adrian? I thought he was handsome, rich, intelligent, calm, controlled. I really thought she should keep seeing him, he might actually save her from her self-destructive streak. It had nothing to do with me wanting to see him again, oh no...
"He's way too old for you," I said with as much disapproval as I could muster, "I can't believe you had sex with him while I was right here! It was disgusting, and tells me he is a terrible influence!" Ella turned to me with a cruel smile.
"I knew you'd hate him, you're so predictable!"
"I hope you won't be seeing him again?" I asked, feeling a little nervous.
"Hah! I'm spending the weekend at his place, and let me tell you, we are going to fuck every way we can think of - remember that when you're next playing with yourself!"
Reverse psychology, it's a wonderful thing.
I managed to get Adrian out of my head for the next couple of weeks, and act like a proper, grown-up mother. Then Ella was away for the weekend, and I decided to take the opportunity to give her tip of a room a 'deep clean'. Two bin bags of rubbish and a washing basket full of dirty knickers and wet towels later, I could actually see the floor to vacuum it.
I steeled myself, and went to clean under her bed. Among the half-empty pizza boxes and rotting food, I saw her 'naughty box'. Everyone has one - a supposedly secret place where they keep their sex-related stuff. I was a traditionalist, and kept my stuff - only a very plain vibrator, a pair of thong panties and a half-cup bra - in the bottom of my knicker drawer. Ella kept hers in a box under the bed, and I had monitored its contents for many years, trying to get a handle on what my wild daughter was into.
The last time I looked, a couple of months ago, she had added what I eventually worked out (by 'researching' the internet) was a butt plug, something I found weird - how would you get any pleasure sticking something up your bum? I pulled the box out and took it to my own room, feeling once again that I was the naughty teenager spying on my parents, rather than the other way around.
When I opened the box, I saw Ella's vibrator - a much bigger and more hi-tech thing than mine - the butt plug, and a couple of magazines she'd had for years. But my jaw dropped as I moved these aside and saw, nestled at the bottom, the shiny metal handcuffs and the bright red ballgag!
I took them out and stared at them. Ella was into bondage all of a sudden?! My mind suddenly went back to that night I had heard her having sex, and the reason for her muffled cries suddenly became clear - she'd been wearing this gag! Then I had another insight - it was Adrian who was into bondage and Ella, being the slut she was, had agreed to it! In my own house! He had cuffed and gagged my own daughter right under my nose! My heart was pounding, and while I hoped it was with righteous indignation, I really wasn't sure.
And then the thoughts started to come, unbidden. What would it feel like to be gagged? To be cuffed, and taken roughly from behind, by a hunk like Adrian? Without consciously thinking about it, I got off the bed and stood in front of my full-length mirror. Slowly, reluctantly, I raised the gag until it was in front of my face.
'Open your mouth and put it in,' the voice in my head ordered gruffly, and I imagined the feel of a gun barrel pressing into the small of my back. Slowly my lips parted, first a little, then wider, and I pushed the ball into my mouth. I had worried I would mark it by biting down on the rubber, but it slipped in easily behind my teeth. It tasted funny, a little unpleasant, but not awful. It looked incredible.
'Buckle it! Tighter!' I obeyed, feeling the ball pulled deeper into my mouth.
"Please, let me go!" I tried to say, and felt a rush of excitement and arousal at the garbled, muffled sound that came out of my mouth.
'Take off your clothes, slut!' I looked pleadingly at my reflection, but I was to receive no mercy, and I 'reluctantly' pulled my T-shirt over my head, kicked off my flat shoes, and slid my track pants down my legs. Standing there in just my underwear, I begged with my eyes and made another incoherent plea for mercy, but it was useless, I had to unbuckle my bra and step out of my panties. I stood there, trying to cover my modesty with my hands. But then my anonymous tormentor indicated the bed, and I stepped over to it.
I looked down at the butt plug, and felt a surge of nervousness, almost fear, and almost overwhelming excitement. How would it feel? Surely, I couldn't! I picked it up and felt its length, its girth - it couldn't fit up there... could it?
There was a tube of KY Jelly in Ella's box, but it was unopened - didn't she need to use lube? - and she would know if I used it, so instead, I got a blob of moisturiser and rubbed that around my tight little hole - quite a weird feeling - then smothered the plug in it. I spread my legs, crouched down and, taking a deep breath, started to work it into my arse. It was weird, uncomfortable, and briefly painful, but I managed to get it all in, to the point where my little sphincter gripped the narrow neck before the flanged end. I could feel it inside me, like I was constipated. It didn't physically excite me, but it fed this strange desire to be stripped and humiliated which had taken a tight grip on me.
To that end, I quickly picked up the handcuffs and, after checking the key worked, tightened them around my wrists. I moved back in front of the mirror, and loved the way my arms framed and squeezed my breasts together, making them look rather better than when they just sagged there. I let out a theatrical moan, and felt the saliva building up in my mouth. On an impulse, I forced it out past the ball, watching in fascination as it dribbled down my chin, then formed a long strand of drool down onto my chest, where it slid slowly down to my stomach, before finally disappearing into my pubic bush. It felt disgusting, and I was dismayed at how much this degrading behaviour was turning me on.
I went back into Ella's room and continued my cleaning, still wearing the gag and cuffs, and nothing else. I worked hard and fast, imagining I was being forced to do it under threat of punishment. When I had finally got her room shiny clean, I moved on to all those horrible, messy jobs which I'd been putting off - cleaning the bath, shower and toilet, scrubbing the kitchen floor, dusting behind all those things which I never moved. It was like I was punishing myself for behaving in this way, and I was soon sticky with sweat and feeling as grubby as I was acting. I was always aware of the butt plug, feeling it inside me every time I moved, reminding me of my imagined position as some kind of slave. The idea that someone - anyone - would want me enough to keep me naked and restrained was a very appealing fantasy, and a huge turn-on.
After a couple of hours, my level of arousal had reached fever pitch, and I needed to do something about it. I went into my bedroom and picked up Ella's vibrator and the handcuff keys, then went to the bathroom. The vibrator had a sucker cup on the bottom, and I stuck it on top of the porcelain side of the bath. I unlocked one of the cuffs so I could switch my hands to behind my back. At the last minute, I had a 'bright idea', one to make my bondage a little more interesting. I put the handcuff key on the floor of the shower cubicle, turned on the water, and closed the door - now I would have to get wet to get free!
I locked my wrists behind my back and went back to the bath. The vibrator looked enormous, a great silicone cock, complete with a moulded head and fake veins. I realised I had forgotten to put any sort of lube on it, but I was too excited to care. I turned my back and fumbled to find the 'on' switch, then swung one leg into the bath, so I could straddle the buzzing monster. I gently lowered myself onto it, letting out a loud moan as I felt the head pressing against my lips and transferring its vibrations into my body. Gradually I let it slide inside me, feeling it fill me up, and my moans got louder and more urgent. At last I felt my thighs touch the cold porcelain, and suddenly the presence of the butt plug became significant, as the two intruders seemed to meet inside me and multiply the vibrations' effect by a factor of ten! Now I was crying out as I was forced to a climax before I was prepared for it, great waves of shudders ripping through my body so violently that I lost my balance, falling onto the floor, the vibrator coming free from the side of the bath and staying deep inside me.
I was writhing as if I was being electrocuted, the huge cock tormenting me as I continued to feel this never-ending orgasm coursing through me. I had quickly had enough of this, and wanted the vibrator out of me, but of course I had a big problem - my wrists were cuffed behind me, and I couldn't reach to either switch it off or pull it out. I lay on my back, arching myself to try and reach between my legs, but it was no use. Having finally come down off that incredible high and feeling a huge wave of fatigue follow it, my arousal began to build again.
With a growing sense of desperation, I struggled to my feet and staggered into my bedroom, frantically searching for some way to switch the thing off. I tried to rub myself against the bed, to flick the switch, but then I remembered it was a push on / push off button, and I would need something hard to press it against. I was sweating now, and becoming tired, but I pushed myself to keep trying - I didn't want to have to wait for the batteries to die!
I decided my best chance of working the switch would be to straddle the short post at the bottom of the bed and push myself down onto it to press the button. Of course, each time I did that, I was pushing the vibrator deeper into my pussy, increasing the impact of its stimulation, to the point where it was becoming painfully uncomfortable. I had to break off as I was forced to a second climax, before getting back to it, even more drained than before. This had stopped being fun some time ago, and now I was getting a bit panicky.
Eventually, and to my great relief, I got it right and the infernal buzzing stopped. I slumped down, lying across the bed, taking the opportunity to catch my breath. I felt deeply embarrassed by my ridiculous behaviour, but I couldn't deny that I had enjoyed two tremendous orgasms.
I was really regretting my 'bright idea', because I'd had enough excitement for one day, but I didn't have a lot of choice. It wasn't until I got the shower cubicle door open that I realised I had also run off all the hot water, so I had to get into the freezing cold shower and scrabble around trying to pick up the key off the floor. It wasn't as sexy as I'd hoped, but I was certainly getting that 'humiliated and degraded' feeling which had so appealed to me earlier. I crept out, dripping like a drowned rat and shivering, then spent a frustrating ten minutes trying to unlock the cuffs behind my back, which was much more difficult than I'd expected. At last, exhausted, I wrapped myself in a towel, slumped down on the bed, and took the ballgag out of my mouth, moaning in pain as I exercised my jaw.
I was still lying there a few minutes later when I was startled by the ringing of the telephone.
"Oh, hello there, Julia, it's Adrian here."
"Oh! Adrian!" Once again, I felt exposed, even though he couldn't see me sitting naked on the bed, with a plug still in my butt.
"I'm sorry, Ella isn't here, she gone away for the weekend."
"I know," he said, "I was calling to see if you wanted to go out to dinner tonight."
"What?! No! I couldn't... Ella... it's not really appropriate."
"I'm not asking you out on a date, Julia," he said, and I could hear the amusement in his voice, "I just thought you might enjoy a little company. Unless you've got other plans?"
I looked at the yawning loneliness of my pathetic life, and made an instant, fateful decision.
"No. I mean yes, I'd love to."
"Excellent! I'll pick you up at eight."
I looked at the clock and saw it was already 3PM - only five hours to get ready!
"You look ravishing, Julia!"
"Thank you, Adrian," I said, enjoying the compliment. It had taken three hours of make-up and five changes of outfit before I had settled on the classic Little Black Dress. "But I'm afraid I can't go."
"Oh?" He didn't sound surprised, or concerned, just slightly amused. "What's the problem?"
"I can't go out with you in public," I replied, rehearsing the argument I had been having with myself since I'd said I would go, "if anyone I knew, or any of Ella's friends, saw us, it would get back to her eventually, and then there would be hell to pay. I can't do that to her."
"Hmm." As he seemed to be considering this, I took the opportunity to check him out. He was wearing a very well cut suit, expensive shirt, and stylish tie. Definitely shaggable, I thought - but then immediately reprimanded myself for thinking like that. Remember he's your daughter's boyfriend, I kept telling myself, and he's strictly off limits, however much you might want him...
"Okay, if we can't be seen in public," he said with a smile, "I'll take you back to my place and we can eat there. Come on."
"What?!" I exclaimed, astonished at this outrageous suggestion, "going to restaurant might be misinterpreted, but going to your house is totally above suspicion?"
"Don't worry, Julia, no-one will see us out together if we're not out together." The logic was unassailable. "Look, we're just friends having a bite to eat and a couple of drinks. Nothing will happen... unless you want it to happen?"
"Nothing can happen!" I said, realising I was weakening. Five minutes later, I was in his 7-series BMW speeding towards his place, feeling terribly guilty but more excited than I had been in twenty years.
His house, like his car, was large, elegant and expensive. It was in the middle of nowhere, so certainly no-one saw us going there, that was for sure. I stood in a lounge bigger than all the rooms downstairs at my house, and admired the art on the walls while he fixed us a drink. We sat on the sofa and chatted, smooth music played, and there was a distinct lack of cooking. After about twenty minutes the doorbell rang and he went to answer it.
"I hope you like Chinese," he said when he returned with the takeaway he had ordered. I laughed, we went into his dining room and we ate a pretty good meal, washed down with more wine.
"You're a very attractive woman, Julia," he said, apropos of nothing.
"Don't be ridiculous," I said coquettishly, "I'm way too old for you, you're dating my 18-year old daughter for God's sake!"
"Don't get me wrong, I like your daughter, Julia, but I prefer the more... mature woman. Shall we go through to the lounge?"
We went back to the sofa, the lights were soft and low, and I started to think that maybe I'd had a little too much wine.
"I find older women are far more experienced," he went on, "they know what they want and know how to get it."
"Really?" I said, thinking that my daughter had experienced more in her short life than I had in all my years.
"For example, young women think sex is all 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' and get very earnest about the physical act, whereas an older woman knows it's all a game, and they're more likely to play with it." I wish you'd play with me, I was thinking.
It's like he's read my mind. He leans over towards me and, as I sit there like a deer in the headlights, puts his hand behind my neck, pulls me forward, and kisses me. It's heavenly, his tongue entwined with mine, his other hand caressing my waist, then my breast. I become a little light-headed, and it isn't all down to the wine, or even a lack of oxygen. I feel his hand move from my neck to the top of my dress, then slowly the zip is pulled down. This is so wrong, but it feels so good! I ought to stop him, but there is no way I can bring myself to do it. When the zip is all the way down, he slowly pulls the dress off my arms and down to my waist. I feel terrible as I lift my bottom so that he can pull the dress all the way down and take it off me - now I can't pretend it is all his doing, I have actively participated for the first time.
Now his hands roam across the bare skin of my stomach, back and shoulders, as well as massaging my breasts, while his kissing becomes firmer and more urgent. With an expert and experienced touch, he unhooks my bra and starts to pull that away from me.
"Oh, please, don't look at my saggy tits!" I protest, covering myself.
"I love your saggy tits!" he says, gently but firmly moving my hands away, holding them against the sofa either side of my head as he takes my right nipple into his mouth.
"I'm a breast man," he says indistinctly, as he nuzzles and nibbles away. "I love them, the bigger, the softer, the fleshier the better." He doesn't seem to be just saying that either, he seems to be enjoying them. I let out a long, lustful moan - I've always enjoyed having my breasts played with, and he's doing a fine job on them.
His hands are no longer holding my own down but are pulling down the sides of my panties. Again, I shamelessly help him by raising my buttocks off the sofa. I am now naked apart from my heels, and he quickly removes those as well. He sucks hard on my nipples, first one then the other, his fingers running along my thighs as I throw back my head, eyes closed, and wantonly spread my legs. I'm lost, utterly consumed by my desperate, aching need for his touch.
"Have you ever tried bondage, Julia?"
"What?!" I exclaim a little muzzily, as I come back from the trance-like state I have fallen into. "Being tied up? That's... that's disgusting!" I try to sound disgusted, but even I can hear the lust in my voice.
"Many women find it very liberating," he says as he continues to run his fingers tantalisingly around my sex, "they find it allows them to lose their inhibitions and enjoy their true feelings, unencumbered by guilt. After all, you can't blame yourself if you have no control over events."
I arch my back as his manicured nails graze my pussy, sending bolts of electricity through me. I can't take much more of this teasing, as images of myself from this afternoon, cuffed and gagged, swim before my eyes.
"Do what you want to me," I whine, losing all thoughts of resistance, "tie me up, gag me, whatever you want, but fuck me!"
I open my eyes and see the confident smile on his face as he reaches behind a cushion and pulls out a length of white rope. The bastard, he had this planned all along, and was so sure I would go along with it! But I just lie there and watch, as he takes my arm and slowly wraps the rope around my wrist several times, then knots it tightly. It feels so soft, yet so secure! It sends a tingling feeling through my body, and I watch as he ties a second rope around my other wrist. Now he takes my right leg, holding it by the ankle and bringing it up onto the sofa. He ties the rope from my right wrist tight around the ankle, so that my arm is lying along my shin and the two limbs are held tightly together. He repeats this on the other side and there I am, helpless and spread wide open!
As I pull on the ropes, testing what I already know, he is holding a gag up before my face, waiting for me to open up and receive it. I look questioningly at his face - do I really have to? - but his expression is calm, confident, commanding. I swallow nervously, part my lips and allow him to push it into place. The ball is larger than the one I tried earlier, but softer - I can squeeze down on it, but when I relax, it expands and pushes my jaws apart again. There's a hole through the middle of it, a firm cylinder which I can't crush as I bite down, which allows me to breathe easily and, I notice, also allows my moan of desperation and need to escape unmuffled from my throat.
Finally, his fingers part my nether lips and he touches my throbbing little button, sending shivers through me and making me moan even louder. He was right, I can now tell him to stop what he's doing, fight to get free, try to pull my legs together to protect my 'virtue', and it won't make a blind bit of difference, he will do exactly what he wants with me, and I can only lie there and hope it includes a damn good fucking!
He teases and torments me, sucking and biting my nipples, massaging and roughly squeezing my breasts, tickling my fanny, running his fingers tantalisingly over my hot, dripping hole. And I love every excruciating, frustrating second, sure that at some point, he's going to fuck me so hard! My garbled, unintelligible moans now beg him to take me, not release me, but they have the same effect as before - absolutely none. And then, all of a sudden he gets up and leaves the room.
I'm more than a little confused, and seriously begin to think he is going to let me die of frustration, but after a couple of minutes he returns, with a small wash bag. He sits down on the carpet in front of me, between my outspread legs, and takes an aerosol can out of the bag. Oh no, do I stink that badly that he's got the deodorant out? I do smell strongly of sex, and I know I'm dripping onto his plush leather sofa...
"Sorry," he says with a smile, "but I hate getting pubes stuck in my teeth when I go down on a woman."
I don't really understand the comment, but I understand 'going down', and I almost wet myself with excitement at the thought. As I daydream, my pubic mound is covered in shaving foam, and Adrian has a safety razor in his hand. I have never shaved down there, and no-one has ever shaved me anywhere, but it's just incredible. I'm totally aroused already, and the feel of the blades as they scrape over my pussy lips is one of the most erotic experiences of my life. After only a couple of minutes, he wipes away the remaining foam, and I look down at my bald pussy for the first time since puberty.
"That's better," he says, and leans down over me, not to kiss my mound but to run his tongue all the way up my slit. I scream and almost cum right there, the feeling is so intense. Now he settles himself down, and begins torturing me with pleasure all over again. I don't know how long he keeps licking, nibbling and probing - it feels like hours, always at the edge of orgasm, but never reaching it. I didn't know it was possible to be so controlled, and controlling, to know just when one more lick would send me over the edge, and to be able to pull back and watch as I writhe and squirm and moan in my almost-climax. And then to do it again, and again. I'm out of my mind with lust by now, desperate for release, but it just won't come. This is torture, now - beautiful torture, but torture nonetheless.
"Shall we move through to the bedroom?" he asks as he unties my ankles from my wrists. Oh God yes! Maybe there he'll give me what I need now, more than ever!
He gives me a hand up, but makes no move to remove the gag, and neither do I - I know my bondage isn't over, I know how much he is into it, how much he enjoys being in total control. And I don't want it to end either -being totally at his mercy is a turn-on, just as he said it would be. I have never let a man do what he's done to me, and the result has been the most fantastic feeling. All I need now is the final release...
It feels strange to be padding around his house naked, gagged, with ropes still dangling from my wrists, while he's still fully clothed - even while I'm 'free', he's in total control.
I'm amazed when I see his bed. It's a huge four-poster framed bed, but in cold, hard iron, rather than elegantly turned wood. What a perfect bed for bondage, I think, but then I see all the strategically positioned eyelets, perfect for tying or locking chains, and realise it was purpose-built for that - any woman walking into this room knows what to expect. I know what to expect.
He has me crawl up onto the mattress and position myself facing down the bed, leaning down to the rail across the bottom. He ties the ropes on my wrists to the corner posts, stretching me along the rail as I kneel down, bent forward. He stands in front of me with a length of rope, and I watch in fascination and some fear as he ties it into a hangman's noose. When he's done, he puts it over my head and pulls it tight until I can feel it restricting my airway slightly. I've heard of 'breath play', auto-asphyxiation, and now I'm fucking scared, finally realising just how vulnerable I am. He ties the other end of the rope to the bars below me, making sure I am pulled down firmly against the iron bar and there's not an inch of slack. My face is reddening as he strokes my cheek, then walks behind me, out of my line of vision.
I feel something being strapped between my knees, forcing them further apart, leaving me wide open. Then a rope is tied around my waist, hoisting me up so that my bottom is presented at the perfect height and angle. Okay, enough preparation already, I think, let's get to the main event!
But Adrian still isn't done. I watch in dismay as he sets up a tripod and video camera right in front of me. There is a massive flat screen TV on the wall in front of me, and it bursts into life, displaying a larger-than-life image of my face, a flush of red in the cheeks, a look of alarm in the eyes and a strand of drool hanging from my chin. I'm really in trouble now, he's going to record us having sex, and there is nothing I can do about it! All I can hope is that, with that noose tight around my neck, it isn't going to be a snuff movie!
Finally, Adrian takes his clothes off. Wow, his body was worth waiting for - tight, firm buttocks, strong thighs like a tennis player, smooth, strong chest, muscled arms - he clearly enjoys working out and loves his body. Then he turns and I see his erect cock, and I feel the drool running down my thigh as well as down my chin! I don't know inches, but from my vast sexual experience of half a dozen guys, he's considerably better endowed than all of them.
I feel him get onto the bed behind me, and I see him, on the big screen, squeezing a dollop of lubricant onto his hand and then smearing it over my sex - not that I need it, I'm so ready, my pussy is convulsing, ready to swallow him whole! I'm relieved to see him slide a condom down his shaft - no way do I want to get pregnant at my age, and in these circumstances - and finally he's ready.
As he slides into me, I let out almost a howl of pleasure, a release of tension that has been building for the last twelve months, never mind the last few hours. He starts with long, deep, slow strokes, bringing me back to that fever pitch, then suddenly slamming into me, his thighs slapping against my buttocks. I shoot forward, and the noose around my neck is pulled a little tighter, choking me a little more, and it doesn't loosen at all as he pulls back. Three strokes like that, and I cum to one of the most intense, and certainly the most frightening, climaxes of my life.
Adrian goes back to his long, languid, deep penetrations, leaning over and grabbing my breasts hanging below me, pinching my nipples to erection. I look up at the screen and I'm shocked by the look on my face - sweat on my brow, eyes bulging and wide with terror, face red and blotchy from the root of my hair down to the white line of the rope cutting into my neck. This is as scary as it is arousing.
As he senses my arousal rising once again, Adrian drives into me, clearly intent that we should climax together this time. I am really fighting for breath now, and stare desperately at the screen, hoping he will see my distress and stop to loosen the rope, but I can tell from the look on his face that he's enjoying every second of my suffering. All I can hope now is that he, and I, cum before I lose consciousness!
Suddenly, the picture in front of me changes. Instead of my own tortured face, I'm looking at the face of my daughter! She is in exactly the same position as me, tied in exactly the same way, drooling from the same gag, her face bloated and her eyes wide exactly as mine are. I scream at the point of orgasm, and tears are suddenly streaming down my face - tears of fear, of shame, and finally of relief, as Adrian loosens the noose and lets me breathe freely once more. I sag against my bondage, exhausted. What the hell have I got myself into? What kind of monster have I given myself over to?
Part 2 (added: 2012/09/11)
I had a hangover the next morning as we ate breakfast, the kind of hangover you get from too little sleep and too much physical activity. My poor pussy, which had not seen this much action in years, was distinctly sore.
The near-death experience and shock of seeing my daughter being fucked in exactly the same way as me, was only the start of a long night. Adrian released me from the bed and, with me still dazed and groggy from being half-strangled, led me downstairs. Before I really knew what was going on, I found myself stretched out across his dining room table, tied down so tight I could hardly move a muscle. As I tried to look up to see what Adrian was up to, my world suddenly went dark as a bag of some kind was pulled over my head. I started to protest and beg him to let me go, but I found my mouth filled by a ballgag strapped in place over the bag. To add to my bewildered terror, a belt was tightened and buckled around my neck, closing the cloth bag and restricting my airway again.
For several minutes, I heard and felt nothing. Then I felt the most intense vibrations being forced into my pussy from some kind of hand-held device, not a dildo-style vibrator. They were so strong, and the device was pressed against me so firmly, prising my pussy lips apart and squashing my clitoris, that I soon found myself writhing and squirming in ecstatic torment, letting out muffled cries and screams as I was forced to a climax incredibly quickly. And there was no respite, the head of the vibrator continued to be applied relentlessly to my dripping pussy until I came a second time and, eventually, a third. I was in shock as I lay there exhausted, trying to suck in enough air through the cloth covering my nostrils.
I was intensely relieved when I felt the gag and belt loosened and then removed, and the bag whipped away. My head was hanging over the edge of the table, and before my senses had fully cleared, my mouth was full of his cock, and he was forcing it into my throat. I had never given head like this before - I had kissed and sucked my husband occasionally to get him hard, but that was about all - and I was gagging and choking as he pushed his erection in as far as he could. Despite the fact that I couldn't breathe, he took his time, sliding in and then out again, leaving me coughing and gasping down air. Too soon he was back, this time lingering at the point of deepest penetration, as I flickered at the edge of consciousness. He pulled out, and I tried to replenish the oxygen in my lungs before he leaned forward to fill me once more. It was clear he was getting sexual pleasure, not just from the feel of my throat around his shaft, but the purpling of my face and the way my eyes rolled up into my head as I suffered oxygen starvation. At last he came, which presented its own problems, with my mouth and nostrils briefly filled by his spunk, before I could cough it up or swallow it down.
The punishment continued as he released me and dragged my barely conscious body back to the bedroom and proceeded to wrap me in ropes, binding my arms together behind my back, then against my body so that I could not move them. My breasts now received his attention, with rope encircling them, turning them into giant, blood-engorged balloons - they certainly weren't sagging anymore! He produced a new gag, a ring gag, and strapped it into my mouth, then tightened the leather straps under my chin and over my face, which completed the head harness in which the gag was set.
He made me lie on the floor, and tied my ankles to my thighs, so that they were doubled over and I was barely able to move a muscle. Yet more ropes were now attached from a hoist above me to the top of my head harness, the rope around my chest, around my waist and to my knees, and Adrian lifted my body off the floor, until I was suspended about three feet off the ground. As I gently twisted at the end of the rope, I saw him setting the camera up again to record this masterpiece of rope bondage.
By the time he eventually released me from this painfully uncomfortable tie, he had taken the opportunity to fuck me at both ends, several times. I was almost relieved when he laid me down on the bed and tied me, spread-eagle, across it. I fell asleep with him still kissing and fondling my aching body.
It had been a night of filthy, dirty sex. I had always associated sex with love before, or at least some kind of relationship, however brief. But this had been purely hedonistic, pleasure its only purpose - his pleasure. I felt used, as well as abused. But I had to admit that, however disgusting and shameful it was, it had been the most exciting night of my rather safe, dull life.
"I had fun last night, Adrian," I said, with some sadness, "but it must never happen again."
"Yes, me too," he smiled, "but why must it never happen again? That would seem such a waste."
"You know why it mustn't happen," I said urgently, "I couldn't do that to Ella!"
"It didn't stop you last night," he pointed out calmly.
"Yes, that was my fault," I replied guiltily, "I gave in to my base desires. But never again. And I need you to give me that film you made last night." This time he actually laughed.
"Oh, Julia, I couldn't possibly give up your DVD, it has taken pride of place in my collection, alongside Ella's - you're my first ever mother-daughter set!"
"Aren't you listening to me?" I asked, becoming exasperated, as well as a little worried by his attitude - why would he not understand?
"I am, but I think I've heard enough. Now you listen to me." He was no longer smiling, and I was scared by the cold look on his face.
"If you don't want me to send a copy of that disc to your lovely daughter, you will do what I say. Do you understand?" I was shocked - this was blackmail!
"Please!" I pleaded, regretting my earlier tone, "I'll play your tie-up games, you don't need to threaten me, just please, say you won't tell Ella about this?"
"I like to hear you begging, Julia, but it would seem so much more sincere if you were naked and on your knees."
"Adrian, please don't do this!" I urged, bitterly ruing my stupidity last night in letting my lust and desperation get the better of me. I could feel tears coming to my eyes - this wasn't fair! Why couldn't I have consequence-free sex, like a man? And then I answered my own question - there are always going to be consequences when you choose to have sex with your daughter's boyfriend. Adrian was merely delivering the punishment for my stupidity and wantonness rather more swiftly than I expected. I looked at him and saw that the confident smile was back, although his eyes were cold and unyielding.
"It would also amuse me if you address me as 'Sir' from now on - it reflects the balance of our relationship more accurately, don't you think?"
I felt sick, knowing I had been well and truly fucked, in every way. My shoulders sagged, as I admitted defeat and stripped out of my clothes.
"Please, Sir," I murmured as I knelt on the tiles before him, "How may I serve you?" Disturbingly, I felt a thrill run through my body as I said these words.
The next three hours were not fun. I was too sore and too dry to enjoy the sex - vaginal dryness, not something you read about in porn too often - when he tied my arms, my shoulders screamed, and when he tied my legs, I got a cramp in my calf. My breasts ached from being bound so tightly the night before, and my jaw sent shooting pains through me when it was stretched apart by one of his many gags.
At last, he dismissed me from his presence, 'generously' giving me the price of a taxi and packing me off with barely a word of farewell. As I rode home, I felt dirty - both physically, as he hadn't allowed me to shower, so I stank of sex, and morally. I had betrayed my own daughter, and for what - a night of grubby sex with a pervert who treated me like a common prostitute? Hardly the loving relationship I had dreamed about!
As I tried to get the stench of sex and shame off my body in the shower, I realised that Adrian, whilst being a bondage fetishist, was really a control freak. That's why my offer to 'play his games' had been rejected. He didn't want my co-operation, he wanted my obedience, my submission. I wasn't to be a partner, I was a to be a victim, the more unwilling the better. He fed off my fear more than my arousal, hence all the choking. I wondered if he would be concerned if I died when he was strangling me, or would it be the ultimate rush. The thought of finding out scared me more than anything.
"Mum, what the fuck?" I jumped, having been entirely taken by surprise that Ella was not only back, but in the bathroom as I got out of the shower and reached for my towel. I followed her gaze and realised she was staring at my groin.
"When did you start shaving down there?" I could hear the surprise, disgust, and suspicion in her voice.
"Oh! Er... I saw an article in Cosmopolitan which said men prefer women that way these days." She snorted in derision.
"You've got bigger problems in finding a man than a hairy snatch!" she sneered. If only you knew, I thought bitterly, if only you knew.
I really tried to put that whole weird adventure out of my mind. I worked as an administrator in a secondary school (11 to 18 year old), which kept me busy from 8AM to 3PM, but after that I found myself remembering, and fantasising about those 18 or so hours when I had been, basically, treated as a sex object, not as a woman with feelings, or even her own desires - he didn't care what I wanted. What I couldn't come to terms with was how those memories aroused me. I didn't enjoy being treated like a piece of worthless meat, how could I? And yet, here I was, daydreaming about it as previously I would have imagined myself being romanced by Robert Redford (in his gorgeous heyday, of course - I can be ageist too!).
"Hello, Ambleside School?"
"Julia Henderson, please."
"Julia? Hi, it's Adrian. How are you this fine morning?" Immediately, my heart was pounding, and I glanced around furtively to make sure no-one could overhear me.
"I'm fine... Sir. Why are you calling me here?"
"I thought you might like to meet at lunch. What time do you have a break?"
"Er... one o'clock, Sir. But I -"
"I'll see you outside the school gates at one, then." The line went dead.
I can see his car just outside the gates. I can also see the playground full of kids, and the teachers on duty, all of whom would be potential witnesses to me getting into the expensive BMW, which stands out like a sore thumb in this relatively poor neighbourhood.
I try not to look as nervous as I feel as I walk towards the black car with its tinted windows. A quick glance back, then I open the door and get in as quickly as I can, breathing out a huge breath I've been holding, and trying to calm my heart rate.
"Hello, Julia." The irritating smile and calm manner are both there.
"Hello, Sir," I say - maybe if I'm 'respectful', he'll be okay. Fuck, even I don't believe that!
"Turn towards the window and put your arms behind your back." No small talk, no preliminaries, just straight to it, and I feel the handcuffs tighten around my wrists. Oh God, I think as I shuffle back around to face him, where is he going to take me, and what is he going to make me do?
It turns out he isn't taking me anywhere, he just unzips his trousers, takes out his semi-erect cock, and pulls my head into his lap. Great! Here we are, parked in a residential street outside my school, and I have to blow him! Well, first I have to get him hard, then he sticks it down my throat like before, making me utter the most awful gagging noises as I fight to not throw up on him. He's gripping me tightly by the hair, pulling me up and pushing me down, once more in total control. When he cums, I desperately try to swallow every drop of his ejaculation - if it goes on his suit, I know he'll be angry, and I don't want to find out what my punishment would be.
I struggle back into my seat, he releases the cuffs, and I get out, without a word being spoken. As I walk back into school, I hear the car start up and move away, and I look at my watch. It's taken just ten minutes for him to make me feel like the cheapest of cheap hookers. What a total bastard!
"Hello, Ambleside School?" It was 2.55 on Friday afternoon.
"Julia Henderson, please." I felt my heart rate increase
"Please hold." I felt physically sick.
"Julia? Hi, it's Adrian. Do you have a nice, floaty summer dress?"
"Good, wear it tomorrow, with a pair of flat shoes, and meet me by the bridge in your village at 5AM."
"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." I was grateful that at least he wasn't coming to the school again. The line had already gone dead.
"Who are you talking to?" I looked around, startled, to see Diane, my co-worker, with a very confused expression on her face.
"Oh! Er... it was... my father! He's very strict, very old school... used to spank me as a kid."
She looked very doubtful - I could see she didn't believe a word of it, but I had bigger problems to deal with than her!
I'm standing by a bridge, in the rain, at 5 in the morning, dressed in nothing but a thin, flower-print dress and court shoes. I'm cold, wet, tired, and very nervous about what's about to happen.
Adrian's car pulls up and he gets out. He's wearing a thick wax jacket and a hat to keep off the rain. I'm soaked, my hair is plastered to my head and my dress is plastered to my body.
He leads me down to the side of the river, then turns to face me.
"Take off the dress and shoes."
I know there's no point in arguing, so I slip off my shoes, pull the dress up over my head, and hand them to him, leaving me naked and shivering. He puts the shoes in the pockets of his jacket, and then I watch, open-mouthed, as he balls the dress up and pitches it right into the middle of the river and it floats downstream and out of sight. What the FUCK?!
"Turn around and put your arms behind your back."
I don't believe this is happening! I feel the cuffs click shut on my wrists, then rope pulling my elbows closer than they ought to go. I feel tears in my eyes, then a gag being forced into my mouth, a bit gag this time, buckled good and tight. The tears are rolling down my cheeks, mixing with the raindrops. Why is he doing this to me?
"You're going to walk up the river until you get to the pub. I'll be waiting to pick you up in the car park. Understand?" I nod my head in abject surrender.
"Good." Suddenly, I'm going sideways, into the river backwards, hitting the surface, ducking under, scrambling to get my feet under me, standing up coughing and spluttering, water flowing past my knees.
"I'll see you at the pub. Remember - no cheating, you stay IN the river until you get there, or you'll be doing it all again." With that, he goes up onto the bridge, watching me. This is sick! Feeling cold, wet, miserable and scared out of my mind, I start wading upstream, under the bridge, under his watchful gaze. The water is around me knees, then around my pussy, then my waist, before shallowing out again. It's two fucking miles to the pub! Why is he making me do this, when he isn't even watching me do it? There's nothing sexual about this, he's just doing this to make me suffer, because he can. I suppose that gives him a hard-on, just knowing I'm freezing my tits off and panicking that some farmer will be up and about at this ungodly hour and see me.
I come around a corner and there's a weir - a fucking weir! The banks are high here, so I couldn't get out even if I dared - I wouldn't put it past this sick sadist to be following me on the bank, just to catch me out. The water gets deeper as I approach the tiers of water, it's up to my waist, then it's whirling around my breasts - fuck it's cold! I can't afford a miss-step now, as I approach the rocks down which the water is flowing fast. I step up and scramble on my knees, feeling the icy water rushing up between my spread thighs. I slip, screaming as I fall and sit down on the rock, the water now splashing around me and up into my face.
I get up, make it to the top, and soldier on. It's boring, terrifying, freezing, miserable. I think of other things to try and distract myself, but I can't get my mind off him, and me, and this. I wonder if he does this sort of thing with all his women - I guess not, they'd never put up with it, would they? I hope to God he never makes Ella do anything like this. No, this is just for me, because he's blackmailing me, so he can make me do anything, I'm his puppet. I'm doing this because I'm being blackmailed, aren't I? I couldn't possibly get any thrill from it, could I? No, no...
I see the pub. I scramble out of the river and up the muddy bank. I make it to the car, where he's waiting. The car boot is open.
My head drops - I thought it was over, that he'd release me, let me go home for a hot shower. But no, I have to awkwardly get into the boot, and lie down. He slams the boot and drives off. What nightmare am I going to now?
I spent the rest of the day at his house, cooking and cleaning, in preparation for a dinner party he was having. This was like my little fantasy a few weeks ago - he put me in manacles and left the bit gag in place - except this wasn't a fantasy, it was real. I was being used as free labour, with no option but to do as I was told, which I think qualifies as slavery.
I assumed I would be sent home, or hidden away, before the guests arrived, but instead he told me I would be serving drinks, canapés and the dinner itself, and he handed me my shoes and a plain black dress. This was not the LBD, and thankfully it wasn't a cartoon maid's outfit, it was just plain, cheap and thin, and looked fairly awful on me. There was no underwear, and my breasts looked pretty bad unsupported, but there was no point in complaining.
My greatest fear was that I might know some of the dinner guests, but luckily that didn't happen. I acted the perfect servant, and served them in silence and with deference. There was absolutely nothing sexual about any of this, nobody tried anything - it was just another way he could exploit our 'relationship' to his advantage, and control and humiliate me at the same time.
When I had served them coffee and brandy, I retired to the kitchen, my work finally done, and wondered what would happen next - would I now be tied up again, and forced into some disgusting sex act?
"Thank you, Julia, you have done a good job tonight," Adrian said when he came into the kitchen, "you may go home now."
"Thank you, sir," I said, swallowing any pride I might have left, "should I phone for a taxi?"
"No," he replied, heading back to his guests, "it's a nice night, you can walk."
I was rather stunned - it was five miles to my house! But it was clear there was nothing more to be said, so I let myself out and started walking. The earlier rain had cleared away and it was a starry night, but it was cold, and I was shivering as I walked home. It was well after midnight when I finally got in, and I went wearily up to bed. It had been a long, tiring day, and I had hardly eaten, but I was ready for sleep more than food.
"Where the fuck have you been all day? And why are you wearing that horrible dress?"
I couldn't believe this swapping of roles again - it seemed I was the naughty teenager sneaking in late, and my daughter was the disapproving parent!
"I've started a part time job as a waitress," I said, not really caring if she believed me or not. I pushed past her and went into my bedroom, collapsing on the bed. I was asleep in minutes.
I was disappointed when it became clear that Ella was not going to follow her usual dating pattern, and quickly break up with Adrian. This was the only way out of this abusive relationship I could see that did not involve her finding out about me and him. I had hoped he would get bored of her, or me, or both of us, but there was no sign of this happening.
I had to give him a lunchtime blowjob on Tuesday and Thursday the next week and my feelings of humiliation and worthlessness grew - he was definitely getting into my head, making me think this kind of treatment was all I deserved.
"Ooh, who's the new boyfriend with the flash car?" Diane asked as soon as I sat down, startling me, and making my heart race.
"Er... he's just a friend," I said lamely, unable to think of a good story.
"Okay, I get it - your secret's safe with me," she said conspiratorially. I looked at her doubtfully - past experience told me it would be all over the staffroom by the end of the day. Just another humiliation for me.
I wake up to noises downstairs. Oh no, it's Ella and Adrian! I don't get up this time, I burrow down under the duvet, trying to shut out the noise, hoping it will just go away. Fifteen, twenty minutes go by, and I can hear Ella moaning and crying out downstairs, not gagged this time, maybe that's just to torment me. Suddenly, the bedroom door opens and he's in my room!
"What's going on?" I ask in alarm, as I sit up, pulling the duvet up to my neck.
"Shut up and lie on your stomach," he hisses, striding across the room towards me.
"Please, Sir!" I whisper desperately, "Please don't -" I'm cut short by a hard slap across the face, and a few minutes later I am helpless, wrists tied behind my back, elbows bound close together, a ballgag strapped into my mouth. I'm terrified now - Ella's downstairs, what the hell is he doing with me?
Things get even worse when he puts his trademark noose around my neck and yanks it tight. He drags me off the bed by the rope, then downstairs. I'm trying to resist, to hold back, but every time he just tugs the rope and it gets a little tighter, and I can feel my face reddening as the noose restricts my oxygen supply.
As he forces me into the living room, I'm confronted by the sight of Ella's naked body stretched out, wrists tied to the curtain rail above her head, and a spreader bar keeping her legs wide apart. She's moaning, obviously being stimulated, and when I see the rope tied between her legs, disappearing between her bare pussy lips, I guess it must be holding a vibrator inside her, which is bringing her off. But the most significant thing I see is that she is blindfolded, a cloth tied across her eyes, and she can't see me, thank God!
"How's it going, Ella?" Adrian asks, as he is forcing me to kneel on the floor and lie across the coffee table in front of my daughter.
"Oh, God!" she moans, "Please fuck me, Sir, this thing is driving me mad!" I am stunned that she calls him 'Sir', just like me - has he been abusing her in the same way? I don't think I could stand that!
"All in good time, my dear, all in good time," As he's saying this, he's tying the rope around my neck to the table, so I can't get up, then he goes behind me and ties ropes from my thighs just above my knees to the legs of the table, so I am spread obscenely, my pussy gaping and wet.
As I'm forced to watch, Adrian toys with Ella's breasts, pinching her nipples until she lets out a squeal of pain and begs him to stop, then tugging on the crotch rope, bringing her moans to a new level of lust and desperation. The sick pervert keeps looking at me, as if to say 'look at me, abusing your daughter, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it!'
He leaves her squirming, and comes over to me, getting down on his knees behind me and, with no preliminaries, rams his cock hard into me. I bite down on the ball in my mouth, stifling the cry of pain, trying to keep absolutely silent as he fucks me hard. I look up in panic at Ella, but she is making enough noise, as the vibrator does its work, to drown out my muffled whimpers. The last thing I want now is to cum, but the rough, hard fucking he is giving me is too much and I can feel my arousal level rising quickly and uncontrollably. I manage to hold back until Ella's noise level increases, but this means that we reach orgasm at the same time, her screaming out, me fighting to stay silent.
I sob silently at my shame, as Adrian pulls out and walks back over to Ella.
"I don't remember giving you permission to cum, Ella."
"I'm sorry, Sir," she says meekly, "please punish me for my disobedience."
He looks over at me with his supercilious grin, and raises his eyebrows.
"Hmm," he says, seemingly contemplating this request, "maybe I should cane you, like a naughty schoolgirl, or whip you, like a disobedient slave."
Ella looks surprised and nervous at these suggestions (I recognise the slight drop of the jaw, the chewing of the lip), and I guess she's never experienced either before. I shake my head, looking pleadingly at him, desperately hoping he won't carry out these threats and mark my daughter's perfect, smooth, unblemished skin.
"Or maybe I'll be lenient this time. I'm sure I can find some other outlet for my disappointment?" He's looking directly at me as he says this, and the implication is clear. I nod my head, accepting the punishment for my daughter's misdemeanours. He smiles at me, happy that he's found another way to debase me.
He releases Ella from the rail, using the rope to bind her arms behind her back, then forces her to her knees.
"In the meantime, maybe you can take care of this for me."
He forces me to watch my daughter giving him a blow job, gagging and choking in much the same way as I had before. I feel sick as she goes a nasty shade of purple, just as I did, before he finally cums. He makes her swallow some, but then sprays it over her face and in her hair. He gives me another gloating look as he scrapes some off her and smears it across my face.
He ties her legs in a frogtie, ankle to thighs, and leaves her to roll around on the floor, still being tormented by the vibrator, while he releases me from the table and takes me back upstairs.
"I expect you to come to my house tomorrow afternoon to receive Ella's punishment," he says, as he unties me.
"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."
I cry myself to sleep, wondering what is to become of me and my daughter.
Part 3 (added: 2012/09/27)
My daughter looked like the cat that got the cream the next morning - how appropriate, I thought.
"I hope Adrian and I didn't keep you awake last night with all our fucking," she said, trying to wind me up.
"No, I didn't notice," I lied. "I've changed my mind about Adrian, I think he'll be very good for you." I thought the reverse psychology might be worth one more try. She looked at me disbelievingly, and then understanding dawned.
"Oh, I get it," she said, "you're trying that reverse psychology thing on me, aren't you? Well, unlucky, I'm going to keep going out with him, and you can just suffer!" That's the problem, I thought, I really am going to suffer. I had hoped that maybe she didn't like being treated like she had been last night, but like mother like daughter, I guess - she got off on being treated like dirt!
"In fact, I'm going over to his place this afternoon, so there." Suddenly alarm bells were ringing in my head.
"Oh? When?" I tried to hide the panic in my voice.
"About 2. Could you give me a lift over there?"
"Oh, er, sure," I said, feeling a little sick. Just then, the phone rang, and I picked it up.
"Good morning, Julia, how are you today?" My stomach turned over when I heard his voice.
"Er, fine, thanks," I replied nervously as Ella looked at me.
"Aren't you going to call me 'Sir'?" I could hear the amusement in his voice.
"I can't right now, I'm afraid, Ella's here."
"Oh dear, something else for which you'll need to be punished this afternoon."
"This afternoon?" I queried, "I thought you had... other visitors?"
"I expect you to be kneeling at my front door at 2.15, Julia - and I expect you to be naked, gagged and cuffed. You'll find the necessary equipment in your bedroom." The line went dead.
"Oh, okay, Mrs Johnson," I improvised, "I'll see you this afternoon, and we can work out the book club schedule then."
But Ella had already gone - she really didn't care what I was doing. I hoped she wouldn't care later either.
The summer sun is hot today, and I'm sweating as I kneel submissively, waiting for him to come for me. I'm wearing the ballgag and handcuffs he left for me, the ones I'd found in Ella's box, and my clothes are in my car, safely parked down the road and out of sight. I feel sick with nerves - not just about whatever punishment I'm to receive, but about how I'm going to avoid Ella seeing me, assuming she's not going to be blindfolded the whole time.
He leads me into the house, and it takes my eyes a couple of minutes to adjust to the change in the light.
"Are you coming out here, Adrian?" I hear Ella call out, alarmingly close.
"I'll be there in a few minutes, Ella, I just have something to deal with here first," he replies, while leading me down a corridor to a room I haven't been in before - the door had been locked when I was cleaning the other day.
It looks like a gym, full of equipment like a treadmill, cross-trainer, and static bicycle. But I don't have time to concentrate on that, as Adrian removes the handcuffs and then locks leather cuffs around each of my wrists. He pulls a thin chain down from above and hooks the D-rings on the cuffs into a clip at the end of the chain. He picks up a remote control and, with the whir of a motor, the chain retracts back up to the ceiling, and my arms are pulled up over my head, gradually stretching me out until I'm balanced on my toes.
"I hope you're ready to take the punishment I should, by rights, be handing out to your sweet little girl?" I am frightened of what this monster might do, but I nod my head - I can't let him loose on my daughter.
"I'm glad you agree, we wouldn't really want to mark this beautiful body."
As he says this, he pushes a button on the remote. The lights in the room dim, and the black curtain covering the wall in front of me moves back to reveal, not a wall, but floor to ceiling plate glass. Light floods into the room, and I can see that outside the room is a paved area leading to a swimming pool, and standing by the pool, is Ella. She's wearing a very skimpy bikini, with lots of strings and not much material. My level of panic reaches fever pitch - if I can see her, surely she can see me!
As I'm thinking this, she walks towards me, looking straight at me. She stops in front of the glass, just a few feet away! She seems to stare intently, then flicks her hair out of her face, and checks herself out. A wave of relief strikes me as I realise the glass must be mirrored, and she's seeing her reflection, rather than me. She wanders back to the poolside and sits down on a sun lounger. I sag, hanging from the chain holding me, exhausted by the tension and the adrenaline.
Suddenly, there's a blinding pain across my back, and I scream - I'd forgotten why I'm here, and the lash takes me completely by surprise. The pain is across my shoulder blades, and I look around frantically to find out where Adrian is, and what he's going to do next. But before I can work it out, there's an explosion of pain across my buttocks, dragging another scream from me. Now I can see Adrian, prowling around me, swishing what looks like a medieval cat o' nine tails. I'm sobbing, frightened half out of my mind of where and when he'll strike me again. As he walks around me, I try to turn and face him, hoping that if he's in front of me, he can't whip me. I shake my head, and try to speak around the ballgag, trying to beg him not to hit me again.
But there's a look on his face. The smile's still there, but his eyes are shining with excitement, and pure lust. Suddenly, he swings his arm, flicks his wrist, and the leather thongs of the flogger slap against my hip, making me scream and cry out again. He laughs at my pain, I look down and see the bulge in his pants - he's getting off on my suffering! He swings again, and the tails lash across my breasts, reducing me to a gibbering wreck. Please! I scream, no more! But the more I struggle, the more I scream, the more I cry, the more excited he gets. Again and again, the flogger is swiped across my body, whipping my back, my buttocks, my stomach, and my breasts.
I'm hanging, limp, from the chain, every part of my body seeming to scream at me of its agony. I've no more tears to cry, no more breath to scream, no more strength to struggle. I'm barely conscious, but I can feel his hands on my burning skin, I feel him lift me up off the floor, and I feel his shaft penetrate my pussy as he drops me onto it.
I bounce on his cock like a rag doll, as he drives into my unresisting body. There's no pleasure, only pain. He cums inside me, then drops me to hang by my wrists. I hear the door open and close, and I'm alone in my torment.
Eventually, I recover enough to raise my head. I look out at the pool, and see my daughter with the man who has just tortured and raped me. He's kissing her, his hands roaming her young body, fondling her firm flesh, easing her out of her bikini. He picks her up from the sun lounger and brings her towards me, and I can see that she's laughing, her arms around his neck, kissing him. He puts her down by the glass, then picks her up by her thighs, her back pressed up against the glass, and he fucks her right in front of me.
And all the time, he's looking directly at me, smiling.
The 'lovers' were out by the pool, kissing and fondling each other, for more than an hour, leaving me hanging by my wrists and having to watch their antics, before Adrian came inside.
"I love forcing your obedience and observing your humiliation, Julia," he said as he ran his hands over my body, feeling the raised welts on my buttocks and breasts, making me flinch and cringe at the renewed pain, "but your screams when you are thrashed are so much more arousing. What a shame we don't have more time this afternoon to explore your limits a little more thoroughly."
He lowered the chain from which I was suspended, and I gradually sank down until I was kneeling on the floor, having been unable to support myself in a standing position. Adrian unlocked the cuffs and removed the gag, enabling me to rotate my shoulders and exercise my jaw, trying to ease the stiffness.
"Now, I just have a little task for you before you go home."
I looked up in dismay, and saw that he was setting up the video camera.
"I want you to read this script," he said, handing me a piece of paper, "and then say the words into the camera. Okay? Take your time, I want you to read it as naturally as possible, and look cheerful while you're doing it."
I read the hand-written text with mounting horror, but when I looked at him with pleading eyes, he just gave me his annoying smile and motioned for me to keep reading.
It was only a few lines, but it took half a dozen takes before he was happy with my performance - on the first couple, I broke down in tears, the rest were because I sounded like I was being forced to read a prepared statement which, of course, I was. Eventually it came out like this.
"Hi, my name is Julia Henderson, and I just want to put on record that it is my choice to submit myself to the control of Adrian Meadows. I've asked him to tie me up and fuck me any way he wants. Recently I've discovered my masochistic side, and have asked him to beat and torture me as much as he wants, too. It's on his insistence that I'm making this video, to absolve him in the event that I, or anyone else, accuses him of raping or abusing me. Thank you."
"Well done, Julia," he smiled, "I think that will clear things up, if it ever comes to it. I will be able to give a copy of that to the police, or Ella, or anyone else who may be under the wrong impression - the headmaster of your school, for instance."
The threat was obvious - even if I decided to tell Ella the truth, to prevent him blackmailing me further, he could destroy me anyway.
"You can go now."
"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," I said, my will broken.
I staggered back to my car, gingerly pulled on my clothes, and went home. There, I stripped off again, and tried to soothe my welts and bruises by slathering them in Aloe Vera moisturiser. All the time, tears of despair rolled down my face. I felt like I was in a slow-motion car crash, and I had no idea when the car would finally come to a halt.
"Hi, mum, I'm just going to get changed and we'll be out of your way."
I had not expected to see Ella again that day, and I was shocked to see Adrian standing there in my kitchen. Ella seemed to be very happy, which was quite lucky, as it meant she didn't notice anything else, like my blotchy, tear-stained face, or my look of fear when I saw her boyfriend. As she went upstairs, I was left alone with Adrian.
"Hello, again, Julia, good to see you. How are those whip marks?"
"Still painful, Sir," I replied. He expressed no concern or sympathy; it was as if he'd asked about the weather.
"I brought you some clothes," he continued, handing me a parcel, "try them on to see if they fit."
I opened the package and found it contained a black leather skirt and a white blouse. We both knew Ella would be an age, so I took off the T-shirt and jeans I was wearing. The blouse was a slender fit, hugging my waist as I buttoned it up. The buttons only just reached my bra, and left a lot of cleavage on display, and it was so shear that my bra showed through it. I had to shimmy the skirt up over my hips, and I struggled to get the clip on the waistband closed. When it was zipped up, it squeezed high up around my waist, and didn't reach anywhere near mid-thigh. I actually found it a very sexy outfit, if a little slutty. Definitely not my style, though.
"You look very good, Julia, very classy," he smiled. What, like a high-class prostitute, I thought.
"You will wear this to school from now on."
"What?!" I exclaimed - I couldn't turn up to school like this, it was completely inappropriate! The headmaster would have something to say, not to mention the members of staff - "mutton dressed as lamb" sprung to mind. And what about the pupils?!
"You should team it with stockings and heels. And wear the thong and half-cup bra you have hidden in your drawers." My mouth dropped open and I stared at him, a look of dismay on my face. Then I heard Ella coming down the stairs and, realising I didn't have time to change back, stuffed my jeans and T-shirt in a cupboard.
Ella looked stunning in a backless evening gown, with her blonde hair done up and her make-up immaculate. I complimented her on her appearance, but she looked daggers at me. She told Adrian she would join him in the car in a moment and, as soon as he left, she turned on me.
"You fucking bitch!" she shouted in my face, "I know what you're doing, trying to steal my boyfriend!"
"No, I -"
"Shut the fuck up, you pathetic old whore! You stay away from him, or I'll fucking kill you!" With that, she swept out, slamming the door, and leaving me in tears once again. My life seemed to be unravelling before my eyes.
I've spent the last week uncomfortable, embarrassed, self-conscious and humiliated as I've been at work in my slutty outfit of tight, semi-see-through blouse, peephole bra, short leather skirt, stockings and heels. Everyone - teachers, staff, pupils, parents - have stared at me with some combination of disbelief, contempt, disgust, amusement, and arousal. I've heard snide comments behind my back from other members of staff, insults to my face from outraged parents, and lewd or plain vulgar comments shouted at me by pupils. The headmaster called me into his office, and suggested I might want to moderate my dress. Knowing I had no choice in what I wore, but unable to tell him that, I asked if I was breaking a dress code and, if not, I would appreciate it if he didn't sexually harass me over it. He blustered, before sending me back to my desk.
And now, here I am, at his house again, naked, cuffed, and gagged on his doorstep, waiting for him to come and get me. It's midnight on Saturday night, I've already been here for an hour, and I'm freezing!
I don't know where Ella is tonight. When Adrian told me I had to turn up here tonight, I asked my daughter what her plans were, and was firmly told to 'keep your fucking nose out of my business'.
He lets me into the house, and removes the gag from my mouth.
"I have a job for that skilful little tongue of yours, come this way."
As so often recently, he wants to start the evening with me giving him a blowjob, something I never enjoy, especially when he tries to suffocate me, but I've got better at it - I've certainly had enough practice over the last few weeks! But it's what comes after the blowjob that worries me.
He takes me upstairs to his bedroom, and my heart sinks, my stomach turns, and my head is spinning - in front of me, bound spread-eagle to the end posts of the bed, blindfolded and naked is, of course, Ella. How could I have been so naïve as to think he wanted anything as mundane as a blowjob. I look pleadingly at him, mouthing 'Please! Don't make me do this!' He smiles, grabs me by the hair, and forces me down on my knees, inches from her body, so close I can smell her arousal.
"So, what's my surprise, Sir?" she asks breathlessly, clearly excited. I notice she calls him 'Sir' again - maybe she only has to do that as part of their sex games.
"Well," Adrian replies, "you remember we talked about a threesome?" As he says this, he shoves me forward until my face is pressed against Ella's groin.
"Oh my!" Her voice sounds surprised, shocked, and excited. "Who did you get to join in?"
"Well, depending on how well this goes," he replies, looking directly at me, "I may tell you or I may keep it my little secret." The implication seems clear - if I want to keep my identity secret, I'd better do a damn good job!
Feeling physically sick, I lean forward, stick out my tongue, and start to work my way in between her shaved lips, seeking out her clitoris. I hear her moaning and gasping for breath as I work on her - God, this is sick! How can he be making me do this?! I can taste her now, her juices are starting to flow as her excitement grows, and she grinds her hips, thrusting her pussy forward, encouraging me to go deeper. I can't back away, because he's still got me by the hair, pushing me forward.
"Oh, please, Sir, do it harder!" Ella begs. There are tears running down my cheeks as my feelings of shame and remorse mount - how did I ever let it go this far? It's all my fault! But if she ever found out that I'd... it's too awful to contemplate!
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Adrian moving. He climbs onto the bed behind Ella and grabs her breasts from behind, roughly massaging them, pinching and pulling her nipples. I can feel his cock pushing between her thighs and pressing against my chin.
Ella is really going mad now, writhing and pulling at her bonds, moaning and crying out. I just want it to finish, and the only way that is going to happen is to make her cum - the thought is sickening, but I know I have no choice. I wrap my lips around her clit and suck it, while flicking it with my tongue, something I know should do the job. She screams, bucking even more wildly, and I feel a spurt of juices fire from her pussy over my face and her thighs - she has cum, and it's over.
But what am I thinking? Why would it be over, when that sick bastard can think of some novel way of humiliating and degrading me?
He gags me, then leaves me on the floor to watch as he unties Ella from the bed, but reties her, arms behind her back, legs frogtied, and positions her in the middle of the bed. He then makes me get on the end of the bed and ties me to the frame so that I'm facing my daughter, arms tied behind me, my back arched, and my legs spread wide. He gets on the bed behind Ella.
"Time for you to reciprocate," he says, pushing her towards me and guiding her face to my wide-open pussy. Not knowing to whom she's doing it, Ella laps away eagerly at me, as I fight against the feelings surging through my body. Meanwhile, Adrian enters her from behind, thrusting into her so hard she is pushed forward, driving her ever-working tongue harder into me. I'm crying again as I realise I can't stop myself, my orgasm is coming and it won't be denied. I bite down hard on the gag, trying not to cry out, every muscle in my body tensing as I feel the waves of pleasure wash over me in the least desired climax of my life.
It gets worse. Adrian ties Ella spread-eagle on the bed, and I'm once again set to the task of using my tongue to make her cum, but I also have to lick out his cum from her pussy as well, which is totally gross. While I'm doing that, Adrian fucks me from behind, just as he did to Ella. Will this nightmare never end?
At last, Adrian drags me out of the bedroom and back down the stairs, not out of the front door so I can make my way home, but into the gym, the place where he had whipped me before. He thrusts me in the room, then closes and locks the door. It's pitch black in here, and I can't remember anything of the layout, so I just lie where I fall, sobbing in fear at what will happen when he returns, and in despair at the disaster that my life has become. What can I do? How can I escape? I have no idea. All I can do is wait for whatever Adrian has planned for my torment.
I wake up as the room is flooded by light, the curtains being rolled back to reveal a bright and sunny Sunday morning. Immediately, my feelings of fear and foreboding return as I see Adrian walk to the glass wall and slide it open, allowing the cool morning air to circulate in the stuffy room.
"Good morning, Julia, I trust you slept well." He doesn't wait for a reply, before grabbing me by the hair and dragging me to my feet, forcing me out onto the patio. I notice he never just asks me to go somewhere, or leads me by the arm, he has to drag me by my hair - it's all part of his control freakery, I guess. It's certainly painful, and very demeaning.
He takes me to the edge of the pool, and my fear level rises a few more notches, as I see the chain and hose lying by my feet. He bends down and picks up the chain, then wraps it around my ankles, locking it in place. He wraps it around my legs, pinning them together, before locking it securely around my waist. I can see where this is going, and I'm almost wetting myself in terror.
"Please, Sir," I whine, the fear obvious in my quavering, high-pitched voice, "please don't do this, I could die!" He looks at me with that supercilious fucking grin.
"Would you rather I try it out on Ella?" I look into his eyes, and I know he is entirely serious - he would have no qualms about doing it with her, just as he has no concern about what might happen to me. He's loving this power trip, he wants me to be forced to accept this inhumane treatment. Defeated, I shake my head.
"What's that, Julia, I didn't quite catch what you said." I hate him even more - he wants me to say it out loud.
"I want you to... play your sick games with me rather than Ella." His smile broadens.
He picks up the hose, and shoves one end through a polystyrene float, then attaches a funnel to it. At the other end, he pushes it onto a snorkel pipe. He makes me take the snorkel in my mouth, then wraps duct tape around it, sticking the ends of the tape across my cheeks, so that it is held in place. He takes a nose-clip from his pocket and closes my nostrils with it, so that I have to breathe through the snorkel, with its extended pipe. I feel like I'm hyperventilating now, as the moment I'm dreading nears, and I suck hard to get enough air into my lungs.
Adrian disappears inside, reappearing at my side a couple of minutes later with, bizarrely, a bunch of helium-filled balloons. He splits the bunch into two groups of three, and I see that each group has a clip at the end. I watch in fascinated horror as he attaches the clips to my nipples - they bite quite painfully, and I moan into the breathing pipe, making a weird noise.
Without any warning, he shoves me, and I scream as I fall backwards into the pool. The cold water hits me with a shock - fuck it's cold! My weighted legs quickly sink, and the last thing I see before the waters close over me is Adrian's face, twisted into an ugly mask of hateful lust, staring down at me. I close my eyes as I go down, struggling wildly, but uselessly, to free myself from the chain and cuffs binding me. When I open my eyes, I look down and see the bottom of the pool, impossibly deep, then look up to see the surface rapidly receding.
Suddenly, there is a sharp pain in each of my nipples, and I scream into the pipe once again. The balloons are on the surface, and my progress to the bottom has been halted - I'm hanging by my nipples, suspended in the water. The clips bite ever harder and deeper as my weight pulls me down and the balloons hold me up, tormenting me beyond reason. How did this sick bastard come up with this?!
There is a large splash, and I see Adrian in the water in front of me, kitted out in snorkel and mask, with a camera in his hands. He gives me a thumbs up - what, is that meant to make it all okay? - then he starts taking photos of me, breaking off from time to time to return to the surface for air. Meanwhile, this is tormenting my nipples terribly!
He dives back down without the camera and swims over to me, grabbing my bound body and groping my buttocks and breasts painfully. On another dive, he returns with a thin flex, and manages to tie it around my waist and force it between my thighs, to form a crotch rope. He goes back up, taking the free end of the cable with him, and gets out of the pool. A minute later, I feel the cable pull tight, and then I am being pulled to the surface by it. But now my whole body weight, plus the weight of the chain around me, is being borne on the flex, which is cutting into my pussy, splitting my labia and scraping across my clitoris. This is not fun, or arousing, it is fucking painful! As my body reaches the surface, the pain gets so much worse, as my weight is supported less by the water and more by the cable. He ties the free end to the rail of the steps, leaving me 'floating' on the surface.
He looks down at me, the maniacal grin still on his face. The balloons are now in the air above me, tugging gently on the vicious nipple clamps, and I see the funnel on its float near my head. When I look back to Adrian, he has pulled down his shorts and has his flaccid cock in his hand. I don't see how he's going to get off with me trussed up like this, he can't fuck me. But that's not his intention - instead, he starts to piss, in the pool, then in my face! This is so disgusting! When it stops, I look up, and see him aiming, not for me, but for the funnel! Suddenly, the pipe is blocked and I can't breathe! I try to blow down the pipe to clear it, but with only partial success, and I'm out of breath! I have no choice but to clear the pipe by sucking on it. I try to shut out the foul taste, and I swallow it down, so that I can gasp in some air. I'm coughing and choking - it feels like I'm going to drown in his piss! At last he stops, and I have a chance to recover.
He releases the cable, and I sink once again. Oh God, this is so terrifying! I have a very healthy fear of drowning, and it feels like that could happen at any moment. Adrian is back in the water, and he releases one of the nipple clamps. The pain is excruciating, as blood returns to the tortured flesh, but I'm more concerned by the fact that I sink deeper in the water as my buoyancy is reduced, and the remaining clamp bites even harder into me. But then he removes that clip too and, with a stifled scream of pain and fright, I swiftly sink, until I am lying on the tiles at the bottom of the pool. Having watched my rapid descent, Adrian returns to the surface with the balloons and gets out.
I don't know how long I lie there, unable to do anything else but lie and wait. I begin to wonder if he's abandoned me - maybe for an hour, maybe for the day! I realise I don't know where Ella is - maybe she's up there sunbathing, asking why there's a funnel floating on the surface of the pool. No, he wouldn't do that... would he?
Eventually, I feel a tug on the cable between my legs, and I'm dragged, slowly and painfully, to the shallow end of the pool, where he finally helps me out and releases me.
"You're so much fun, Julia," he says ominously, "I don't think I'll ever get bored, playing with you." That, right there, is my worst nightmare. I have to find a way out of this!
Part 4 (added: 2012/10/27)
"Adrian has asked me to marry him and I've accepted!"
The delight on my daughter's face was unmistakable, and I felt sure was only increased by the open-mouthed look of shock and horror on my face. As she stood in front of me, lovingly clutching her fiancé's arm, head on his shoulder, I could find nothing to say.
Ella had been dating Adrian for three months now, and throughout that time, he had been fucking and abusing me on the side. I spent some time during most weekends at his house, sometimes cleaning or cooking like a skivvy, sometimes being used like a common prostitute, sometimes being tortured like a sex slave.
He had introduced me to the 'delights' of anal sex fairly early on, spending plenty of time preparing me by stretching me with larger and more painful plugs. He left me ungagged through this phase, clearly enjoying my cries of agony and pleas for mercy. This had gone on for a week, with me having to report each evening for my 'anal exercises', as he put it. I doubt if he needed to take this long, he was just enjoying making me suffer in anticipation of my eventual defilement. At last, with me tied with my arms up behind me and my bottom in the air, he administered an enema to clean me out, before finally buggering me, hard and deep, ending by pumping his cum inside me. His acute sense for identifying and maximising my humiliation led him to leave me there, and allow the cum to leak back down between my buttocks, before dribbling down my thigh. Once he had taken my anal 'virginity', it became a regular feature of our sessions.
Pain also became a regular feature, one which I dreaded even more than the anal rape. He often flogged me, enjoying my screams and tears, especially when he directed his blows at my pussy or breasts. But he also employed the cane and the riding crop liberally when the mood took him. Many times I had to dress carefully to hide the marks on my body when I went to school, and that task wasn't helped by the skimpy outfits he made me wear.
And then there were those 'special occasions', where I feared either for my life, my sanity, or my reputation. One time which seemed to threaten all three had occurred when he turned up at my house in the early hours of a Saturday morning, having left Ella sleeping at his own place. He had stripped me, tied and gagged me, and bundled me into the boot of his car. Half an hour later, I was pulled out and dumped in the high street of a market town ten miles from my home! I could only watch as he drove away, then I ran for cover, before walking home, risking discovery or a traffic accident on the dark, winding country roads. It took me until just before dawn to get back to my house, where I had to struggle to get my hands free so I could finally go back to bed.
Breath play, choking and strangulation were a big part of what turned him on, but I wasn't quite sure if it was the act itself which aroused him, the frisson of perhaps causing an 'accidental' death, or the terrified reaction it induced in me. On one occasion, he took me out onto his substantial plot of garden, dressed in nothing but chains on my wrists and ankles, and a ring gag in my mouth, making me carry a spade out with me. My natural assumption was that he was going to make me work in the fields like a slave, which he did, but when I realised that my task was to dig a deep hole, I began to fear that a far more likely explanation was that he was making me dig my own grave!
He had brought a flogger, among other things, and he used it liberally on me whenever I tried to stop or even slow down to take a breather. It was a hot, sunny day, and I was soon bathed in sweat as I dug out the hole until it was three or four feet deep, and Adrian told me to stop and get out.
I needed to rest, but immediately he started tying me up, arms behind my back, legs together and then thigh to calf so I could only kneel on the ground, then thighs to body so I was trussed up in a ball. He grabbed a couple of the ropes and manhandled me into the hole, and I really started to freak out, screaming and wailing, struggling pointlessly, as he shovelled the dirt I had taken from the hole back in around me and onto me.
He quickly filled the hole until I was buried up to my shoulders. I hadn't stopped crying and shouting incoherently since he'd started, but suddenly I was silenced, as he pulled a plastic bag over my head and duct taped it tight around my neck. As I tried to suck in air, the plastic clung to my face, sending a jolt of terrified panic to my brain. I had to breathe out, and the bag expanded, fogging up with the moisture from my breath, but as soon as I breathed in again, it stuck to me as if it was vacuum sealed, which it pretty much was. The air was already stale, and I started to hyperventilate as the amount of oxygen rapidly fell. I could see stars, and my vision was becoming blurred, not just from the misted plastic in front of my eyes. I could feel myself passing out, and I knew he was watching me, fighting for my life, while he masturbated over me!
When I came to, I could feel and see that he had made a hole in the plastic bag and fed a pipe into my mouth, through the ring gag, before duct taping the pipe in place. I was still terrified, and for good reason, as he resumed shovelling dirt around me. Gradually he covered my shoulders, then my neck, then my plastic-covered head up to my eyes. He got down on the ground, and looked me straight in the eyes. He was smiling, as always, and I felt him patting me on the head, as he mouthed 'Goodbye!' to me. Then he got up, and I was plunged into darkness as he finally covered my head!
As I screamed continuously into the breathing tube, I heard him somewhere in the distance shouting for me to be quiet, but I couldn't - not until he put something over the end of the tube, probably his hand, cutting off my air supply. He released it again after a few seconds, but I had learned my lesson - I sobbed silently in my tomb!
The next few hours were hell. I could hear nothing but my own, laboured breathing. Every time I felt something on my skin, I panicked, imagining worms and centipedes crawling over my body, and into various crevices. I was constantly worried that something would crawl, or would be put, into the tube providing my lifeline to the surface. I knew Adrian might piss into it, or even wank into it; when he didn't, I assumed he'd abandoned me here - he was probably out enjoying himself somewhere, or fucking my daughter...
When he finally dug me out, it was dark. I went home, got a bottle of wine, got into the bath, and contemplated suicide. It seemed the only way out, but I knew even that would not solve my problems.
His hold on me was the same throughout this abuse - on the one hand, he threatened to destroy my life through exposure at work, at home, and with friends and family; on the other he threatened to destroy my daughter's life, by doing to her whatever I refused to let him do to me. It was a combination I could not find a way to combat. Even after death, he could carry out his threat.
"Aren't you going to wish your daughter well, Julia?"
"Oh! Er... of course," I said, flustered by my initial reaction. We hugged and air-kissed with a mutual lack of sincerity.
"Have you set a date?" I managed to ask, trying to sound like a real mother.
"July 23rd!" Ella said, in obvious excitement, "followed by a whole month on honeymoon!"
I managed to smile and sound enthusiastic as I asked them about their plans for married life, and I tried to look like I was listening to the answers, but all I could think about was, how was this going to affect me.
"Don't worry, Julia, I'm not stealing your daughter away, I'm not going to lock her away in a dungeon - not unless she wants me to, that is." This last was said with the evil, smug grin, and elicited girlish giggling from Ella, with a half-whispered "Ooh, yes please, Master!" I felt physically sick.
"I certainly hope you will come to visit us, I have enjoyed your company very much in the last few months." I glanced at Ella, but this didn't seem to raise any suspicions. Adrian, meanwhile, was looking innocently at me, and I wondered whether he would allow any change to our relationship. My hopes were not high.
I arrive early on Friday at his house to do my work. It's a week to the wedding, but all the joy of preparing for my only daughter's big day has been totally ruined by the unwelcome attentions of her fiancé. There has been no break in the pattern of his use and abuse of me, and now, here I am, the weekend of his stag party, and I'm cooking and cleaning his house for him, in the nude, and with chains on my wrists and ankles.
After a long, arduous day, I'm hoping this is the extent of my involvement in his stag do, but of course, that would be naïve of me. He leads me to the bathroom and tells me to shower, then go to the guest bedroom, where I'll find my clothes for the evening.
When I emerge from the shower, my heart sinks as I see the clothes on the bed. It's a maid's outfit, but not like the one I wore before - plain, cheap, uninteresting - this is a classic design for a stag party. As I pull it on, the black latex squeezes me tight across the bust and the stomach. The skirt flares out from just above the hips and, despite the frilly white lace underneath, it barely covers me, and I know my pussy or bottom will be on display if I bend over even a little bit. There are hold-up fishnet stockings, and four inch high heels to go with the dress, along with a velvet choker and a frilly white band for my hair. I look at myself in the mirror, and I feel depressed - I used to be good looking, but now I look all of my forty years, tired, worn down, defeated. What am I doing here? What does the guy see in me? But I know, this is nothing to do with looks, it's not even much about sex, it's about power - his power over me.
The guests for the evening are about a dozen men, all around Adrian's age, and the early evening activities include a lot of eating, drinking, and watching porn. I'm kept busy providing the food and drink, but there is no 'funny business' - most of the guys look at me as if I'm some kind of freak, wondering why I'm wearing the tarty clothes and displaying myself, when I'm so old! They're probably feeling sorry for Adrian, that he hasn't been able to get anyone hotter to waitress for him.
I get a huge shock when I see, and hear, the DVD of a woman, tied to Adrian's bed, and being fucked from behind by Adrian, while she chokes, a noose tied around her neck. It isn't me, and it isn't Ella, but it's the same scenario as we've both been in, and I immediately fear that this is merely a prelude to our appearance on screen. There's general amusement at the scene, and several of the guests congratulate Adrian on both his performance, and his ability to get the woman to agree to such extreme treatment.
"So, Ade, when does the 'entertainment' arrive?" one of the guests asks, as the DVD ends.
"She's been here all the time," he says, indicating in my direction with a flourish. There's a rather awkward silence as all faces turn to me, with a mixture of surprise, bafflement and some distaste.
"Er, no offense, but she's a bit... old?" someone pipes up. Adrian smiles broadly.
"Julia, would you go upstairs and bring down everything I've laid out on my bed?"
I go upstairs and see what he has planned out for me - the bed is covered in ropes, chains, gags, canes, crops, floggers, and other stuff I haven't seen before. I start to cry, but I still gather it all up in my arms and take it downstairs. When I go back into the main room, Adrian tells me to put everything down on the table, then to take off my dress. I give him a pleading look, but I dare not argue with him, I know he will punish me horribly if I embarrass him in front of his friends. I get a smile, and an expectant look, in return. Slowly, reluctantly, I strip out of the latex, and stand in front of the staring group in just the stockings, heels, choker, and ridiculous maid's hair band.
"Yes, I could have got some young, fit stripper to come along," Adrian explains as he gets up, walks over to stand behind me, and reaches around to massage my breasts, "but Julia here will do so much more than just take her clothes off."
He picks up a length of rope, and ties my arms behind me, wrist to elbow, before using another rope to create a harness around my breasts, making them bulge hideously. To this bondage, he adds a head harness ring gag, and then spreads my legs with a bar strapped between my ankles. I feel mortified to be forced into this situation, to be displayed like this to all these strangers, but my heart is pounding like a drum, I'm salivating, I'm prickling with sweat, and - oh God, the shame of it - my pussy is getting very warm! This is one of my all-time hottest ever fantasies!
"She is very good at giving head, takes it up the arse, and has a very hungry cunt," Adrian continues. "She also enjoys a bit of corporal punishment, if that takes your fancy. Bend over, Julia, and make yourself available to my friends." I do as I'm told, knowing resistance at this point is pointless. Now I'm bent over, my arse in the air, my ballooning breasts below me, staring back at their shocked faces.
"I suggest you use these," he says, producing a box of condoms - a large box, I notice - "not for her benefit, to be honest, but you don't all want to be getting sloppy seconds, do you? Don't be shy, guys. She's as desperate to be fucked as, hopefully, you are to fuck her."
There is a pregnant pause, as they look at each other to see who's going to go first. After maybe a minute, one of them gets up and walks around behind me. I feel his hand on my buttock, then sliding down between my thighs to feel my pussy, which is hot and moist - I am unbelievably turned on right now! I can't stop a moan escaping as his fingers probe my lips, parting them, pushing slightly inside me.
"Fuck! The horny bitch is wet for me!" he exclaims.
I feel my face burning as I see them all staring at me, and I close my eyes for a moment. When I open them, someone else has got up and approached me, standing in front of me, putting his fingers through the ring gag into my mouth.
"I think she's gagging for it," he says, getting a few groans from the others, "you ready to take her, Mark?"
Moments later, I am being fucked in my mouth and in my pussy, while being watched by ten other guys! I cum just from the unbelievable situation, never mind what they're doing to me - how many times have I had this dream? On display, being discussed dispassionately by a group of total strangers, being touched, being fucked, both ends at once, unable to resist...
I taste the cum in my mouth, and swallow it more eagerly than I have ever done before. I cum again as I feel the cock inside me jerk and pump, and my pussy convulsively grips down on it through my orgasm.
"Fuck, she's good!" I hear someone say, and I soon find myself sucking and licking a new cock, while someone else drives into me from behind.
The next few hours are a whirlwind of depravation, as I am taken on the floor, against the wall, on the table, before being forced upstairs and tied to the bed for further sexual assaults. I am buggered, and someone even puts their cock between my bound breasts and 'tit-fucks' me, spurting his cum over my chest and neck. After some effort, three of them manage to arrange themselves so they can fuck me in the mouth, pussy and arse all at the same time. I am soon in a complete daze, so exhausted that I have no idea who is doing what to me, how many times I've cum, whether I'm suffering pain or pleasure from all of this. Any distaste at 'fucking an old bird', as I heard one person say, seems to have been well and truly laid to rest.
Eventually, everyone's sexual appetites seem to have been sated, at least temporarily, and their attentions turn to other interests. It starts with spanking, but quickly escalates to use of the crop, caning, and then flogging. Someone suggests a 'wanking contest', and I'm dragged outside into the night air, forced down on the ground, and I become the centre of a circle of masturbating men competing to be the first to spray me! There is great hilarity as I am covered in their spunk. This is quickly followed by a 'pissing contest', and you can guess what that entails!
At some point in the early hours of the morning, I fall into an exhausted sleep. When I wake, it's daylight, and I'm stiff and aching, having been left tied up as I slept. I wonder if I will now be allowed to clean myself up and go home, but this is not a stag night, it's a stag weekend!
I'm allowed to take a quick shower, before I'm dressed in the maid's costume once again. I have to make breakfast for them all, and the rest of the day is spent waiting on them as they relax by the pool, eating and drinking. There's the occasional break, as I have to suck one of them off, or they fuck me, all out by the pool, in front of the others. I hate to admit it, even to myself, but I find this public humiliation and debauchery incredibly arousing. Adrian, who has been watching all these bacchanalian activities with a cold but amused detachment, can clearly see the effect it has had on me, and moves in to take advantage of the situation.
"Julia, I think we'd all be entertained if you masturbated for us."
"W-what?!" I stammered, totally shocked, "Here? Now?!"
"Yes," he smiled, "right here, right now."
My face is bright red with shame and embarrassment, tears are rolling down my cheeks, but I kneel down in front of them all, pull my skirt to one side to expose my bald pussy, and go to work with my fingers. At first I'm self-conscious as they whoop and cheer encouragement, but I soon shut them out and close my eyes, my hands roaming over my latex-clad breasts, as I lose myself completely in the sensations I'm causing, and the mental images that go with it. Pretty soon, I'm shouting out in orgasm, my body convulsing so violently that I collapse onto the flagstones, finally subsiding into a whimpering, twitching wreck.
"Well done, Julia. Now get me a drink."
When evening falls, I have to cook dinner for them, then the activities of the previous night are repeated. One addition is a chance to watch the DVD Adrian has made of the last twenty four hours! I'm forced to watch it while bound to a chair, ballgagged, and being 'pleasured' with a wand vibrator. I cum twice, noisily, as I watch myself on screen, amusing them all and setting up the evening perfectly.
On Sunday morning, the revellers gradually drift off home, and after I've cleaned the house from top to bottom, I'm allowed to leave too. I go straight to bed, and sleep for fifteen hours straight, before getting up to go to work. Only six more days to the wedding, if I can survive it. Maybe then, things will change?
All week in the lead-up to the wedding, I was tormented by memories of that weekend. I was so conflicted - on the one hand, I had been subjected to cruel and obscene treatment by a group of men I had never met and didn't know; on the other hand...I had loved it, and every time I thought about it, I was ashamed to the point where I cried, but also aroused to the point where I had to touch myself. When I masturbated, I thought of myself in front of all those men - wanton, debased, just a worthless slut performing for cruel, heartless, anonymous strangers... and I would cum again, cringing in self-loathing.
I was in a mess when the morning of the wedding came around. Ella was like an excited puppy and, luckily, couldn't see how distracted and nervous I was. I couldn't help thinking Adrian would have something planned, something to make my day unbearable. As usual, when I thought how evil Adrian could be, I underestimated him.
My ex-husband David, Ella's father, was there with his Italian eye candy Francesca, which didn't make things any easier. When the time finally came for me to leave for the church, Francesca came with me, which led to a long, uncomfortable car ride. She was about twenty five, fucking gorgeous, elegantly - and expensively - dressed, and looked so fucking smug, I could have scratched her eyes out!
When we got to the church, all the other guests were seated, and Adrian was in his place. As we approached the front, Adrian and his best man got up to welcome us, and I stopped dead in my tracks, chin on the floor, the pit of my stomach somewhere subterranean. The best man was one of the guys from the stag do, of course he was, how could I have not realised that! With a kind of sixth sense, I turned to my right, and there, filling a whole pew, were the other guys from the stag party, looking stunned, and then breaking out into smiles!
I was in a daze as Adrian asked if he could have a quick word, and led me into a side room where the register would be signed. I was totally lost as I turned to look at him.
"Take off your dress, Julia," he ordered in a cold, business-like way.
"Please, Adrian," I said, unable to comprehend what was going on, "not here, not in the church!"
"Hurry up, or Ella will be here before you're ready. You don't want to keep your daughter waiting on her big day, do you?"
What the FUCK?! This cannot be happening!
Still feeling like I was in some kind of dream, I took off my summer dress, and stood before my soon-to-be son-in-law in my slip, bra and panties.
"Take those off - quickly, come on!" I tried to fight back the tears as I stripped naked in the cold church.
"Put this on," he commanded, handing me a tangle of leather straps. I sorted it out, and realised it was some kind of body harness, but what took my attention were the two dildos attached to it. I looked up at him in disbelief, wondering again at just how monstrous he was.
"You should moisten those before you try and put them in," he said, pointing at the dildos, "but I'd get a move on, the vicar might come in at any moment."
The tears were flowing as I sucked on the silicone devices, then stepped into the harness and forced them home, gritting my teeth against the pain. The harness went between my legs, around my waist, then split to form a diamond pattern around each breast, then up over my shoulders. Once I had got it on, Adrian stepped in to tighten all the buckles, so it squeezed me tight all over, and forced the dildos even further into me. I heard soft clicks as he padlocked the buckles.
"Okay, now put your dress back on, and we can rejoin the others." I looked around, but he had already disposed of my underwear, and I had no option but to put my dress on over the bondage gear, dab my eyes dry, and follow him back into the main part of the church.
"Are you alright, Julia?" Francesca said as I sat down gingerly on the wooden pew, feeling the intruders move inside me, "you look upset."
"My daughter's getting married," I said angrily, glad to have a chance to vent some of my feelings, "of course I'm fucking upset!"
The rest of the ceremony completely passed me by, as all I could think about was the tight leather constricting my body, the butt plug sitting uncomfortably in my arse and, mostly, the dildo moving around in my pussy. It was uncomfortable, but in a disconcertingly erotic way. Francesca on one side of me, and David on the other, must have wondered if I had ants in my pants, the way I kept shifting and squirming in my seat, and from the little whimpering noises I kept making.
The next thing I really remember was being on the receiving line at the reception, alongside David, and Adrian's parents.
"What's wrong with you, Julia?" David hissed, "You seem totally distracted. Can't you look happy, even on your daughter's wedding day?"
"What's wrong with you, David?" I countered, "Couldn't you manage without your Italian tart, even on your daughter's wedding day?"
"Hello again, Mrs Henderson, or may I call you Julia?" I turned back to the line of guests to find the best man, Mark, holding out his hand, looking at me with a knowing smile, and I remembered him, the previous weekend, looking down on me as he came in my face. I felt my cheeks go red, and I became flustered, feeling a sudden flush of heat in my loins. It didn't get better as he was followed by all the other guys from the stag party, all with their smug grins and suggestive comments - 'great spread, Mrs Henderson', 'glad they finally tied the knots, eh, Mrs Henderson?', 'suck my dick, Mrs Henderson' - oh, no-one said that one, that was just in my head!
The happy couple started the first dance, but then Ella came and pulled Adrian's dad onto the dance floor, and Adrian came and got me up. As we twirled around, I could feel him fingering the padlocks through my dress, and I realised that anyone who danced with me would probably also feel them.
"Please sir," I whispered, "may I have the keys to unlock myself?"
"Later, Julia," he replied, "don't worry, you'll get them later."
When the song ended, I went to sit down, and no-one could drag me out there again. Also, I realised I'd better not drink, as I didn't want to have to go to the toilet with these things locked inside me!
"What the fuck are you doing, mum?" Ella came over two hours later with a thunderous expression on her face. "You've been sitting here, being a killjoy, all night! Can't you be even a little bit happy for me? Why are you trying to ruin my big day?"
"I'm sorry, darling," I said, genuinely regretting I was so obviously looking as miserable as I felt, "I think I just need a breath of fresh air."
I gave her a cheerful smile and went outside. It was a clear night, and the stars were out. Full of romance, I thought, except I didn't feel romantic, I felt uncomfortable, sore, stretched and... horny! I hadn't realised until then just how aroused I was by the dildo inside me.
"I was wondering if you might like to come up to my room later." I turned, and saw Mark, the best man, had come outside and stood behind me.
"Why on Earth would I do that?" I asked incredulously.
"To get these," he replied, holding up a set of padlock keys, "Adrian put them in my safe keeping, as he'll be leaving soon with his new wife."
"Give them to me," I said sternly, holding out my hand. He put the keys in his pocket.
"Later. In my room. In the meantime, would you care to dance?"
Well, I knew he knew about the padlocks, so I thought, what the hell, at least Ella will see that I'm joining in. And the weird thing is, despite the looming threat of what he might do to me in his room later before he gave me those keys, I actually started to enjoy myself, for the first time in a long time. Adrian and Ella went off in a blaze of confetti, tin cans and over-inflated condoms, then Mark and I got back on the dance floor and partied hard. When the slow numbers came along, it felt so good to feel his hands around me, starting in the small of my back but creeping down onto my bum, and my breasts squashed up against his chest. I was getting quite hot for him.
Eventually, people started to leave, then Mark said he was going upstairs and he'd see me later. He smiled, but it was a nice smile, and I was almost looking forward to seeing him.
"Who's the toyboy?" It was my ex, David, the supercilious creep.
"Toyboy?" I said, amazed at his hypocrisy, "tell me, do they not have a law against underage sex in Italy? She looks about fourteen, you fucking pervert!" He went off in a huff, and I saw him and his floozie looking daggers at me a little later. God, it felt good!
At last the evening came to an end and, about midnight, I headed upstairs, as nervous and excited as a teenager on her first date, although not many teenage dates held the threat - or was it a promise - of bondage and wild sex as this did!
"Oh my God!" I breathe. I'm in his room and I am looking at Mark. I am also looking at several of the other guys from the stag party, and half a dozen men I have never seen before - are these friends of Mark, or did he just drag them in off the street?!
"Could I have those keys now, please, Mark?" I ask nervously, looking from face to face. Some are smiling, others are stern. They are all staring at me.
"Hmm," Mark replies, as if considering this request, "How about you blow every guy in this room first?"
I look around again, the fear, nervousness and arousal rising inside me. I can't believe this is happening again! He knows how much this is turning me on, he must do! What is he threatening me with if I don't do as he says? Somehow, instinctively, I know he's not threatening me with anything. In the way I know Adrian is fundamentally evil, I know that this guy, who I first spoke to only a few hours ago, is fundamentally good.
"Yes, sir," I croak, the arousal unmistakable in my voice. I reach behind me, unzip my dress, and step out of it, displaying my body, with its tight leather harness, to them all. I sink to my knees, and they move in around me.
I do them all! My God, I feel such a cum slut as I suck them, one after another, until they cum in my mouth and I drink it down like it's high-class champagne! Mark is last, and I look up as I work on his cock, seeing the happy look on his face, feeling his hand stroking my hair rather than grabbing it and forcing me onto him. Somehow, the whole thing seems... normal.
When he's finished, he helps me to my feet, and unlocks the harness, helping me out of it, watching with a mixture of concern and relish as I gingerly pull the dildo and butt plug from my body.
"Now," he says, with a look of mock seriousness, "I understand several of the these gentlemen would like to sample your rather hot little body some more. Of course, I understand you might demur, in which case we would have to restrain you so you couldn't resist, possibly even gag you to prevent your cries for help being answered..."
"Oh, sir!" I reply, in a ridiculous little-girl tone, "I couldn't possibly agree to you all ravishing me! But, if you tied me up and gagged me - better make it a good one, I can be pretty noisy - I couldn't stop you having your wicked way with me... several times..."
Oh boy! It's one of the best nights of my life! Bondage, sex, it's just amazing! But, you know what the best part of the whole night is? I'm lying on the bed, tied down spread-eagled, all the other men have finally left, and Mark comes over to me. He cups my sweaty, cum-stained face in his hands and kisses me tenderly on the lips.
"You are one beautiful MILF!" he says, then proceeds to drive me absolutely wild with his tongue and his lips all over my body. But the best part was that first, tender kiss - it made me realise that, despite all the sex I had enjoyed, what I really needed was the gentle touch of another human being. And now I have that as well! It feels like a light has gone on in the darkness of my life. And, oh my word, this guy is so fucking good with his tongue!
Adrian and Ella's honeymoon was a honeymoon period for me too, not having to worry that he might phone and demand my presence to suffer his latest inventive perversion. So when the phone did ring, there was a moment of fear, then confusion - who would be calling me on a Saturday?
"Hello, Julia? It's me, Mark, you might remember me from the wedding?" I certainly did remember him, but I wondered what his motives might be for calling me.
"This is going to sound like a dumb question, given your age, and our history so far, but... would you like to go on a date with me?"
"Whaddaya mean, my age?!" I exclaimed in mock outrage, "I'm not your grandmother's age, you cheeky bugger! But yes, I would love to go on a date with you."
So, he picked me up at eight, and I was as nervous as at any time I could remember.
"I have to tell you," he said seriously as we got into his car, "I don't put out on a first date."
I laughed out loud, and the mood for a surreal evening was set - I'd already had sex with the guy, but here we were on our first date! We went to a local pub, had a couple of drinks and a meal, and basically had a really nice time, chatting and laughing. When he took me home, he walked me to my door, we kissed, and he left. That was it! I have to say, I was a little disappointed he didn't make a move, but he stuck to what he'd said he'd do - maybe it was a matter of establishing trust, but it certainly frustrated my desires!
"Okay, second date," he said the following weekend, "You're allowed to grope me, but no full-on sex."
"You're a bit of a prude, aren't you?" I asked with a smile.
"Hey, I don't set the rules," he replied innocently, "these are the immutable laws of dating."
I got into the car and folded my arms, like a sulky child denied her sweets. We went to a very good restaurant and had another very enjoyable meal. When we got back to my place, I grabbed him and stuck my tongue down his throat, while rubbing my hand across the front of his trousers. I was pleased to find that I was having the desired effect where it mattered.
"Couldn't we just pretend this is a third date?" I asked huskily, continuing to massage the bulge in his pants.
"Well," he replied, clearing his throat and trying to control his own burgeoning arousal, "I suppose the wedding reception could be considered a date -"
I clamped my lips over his before he could go any further, kicked open the door behind me, and dragged him inside. Five minutes later we were both naked on my bed.
"You know," I whispered, "I haven't had sex without being in bondage for nearly eighteen months. I'm not sure I can do it..."
"Oh, dear," he said as he lay on top of me, "I can see that might be a problem for you..."
"Third drawer down," I said, pointing to the bedside cabinet - I had bought my own ballgag and handcuffs after I played with Ella's, but had never had the inclination to use them, once Adrian had started using and abusing me.
"Well, well, well, I like a woman who's prepared..."
Despite the fact that I was gagged and cuffed to the headboard, Mark made love to me in a gentle and considerate way, driving me wild by playing interminably with my breasts, then teasing me by licking my clitoris and gently exploring my pussy with his fingers. I was boiling over by the time he raised my legs up in the air and slid his erection into me. He moved slowly, in long, languid strokes, which were an exquisite torture, making me moan and writhe under him.
"Fu' 'eee har'! 'P'eas!" I begged, my plea garbled by the gag, but still very clear.
"Hey, you're cuffed and gagged!" he said with a look of mock outrage, "you don't get to decide how I fuck you!"
He continued to slowly screw me, while bending his head down to suck on my nipples.
"Aah, 'ou bastar'!" I whined, wrapping my legs around his waist and trying to pull him into me.
"You're a very sexy lady, Mrs Henderson," he said, as he kissed my face, and my lips stretched around the gag, "And I intend to torture you for some considerable time!"
And he did, for what felt like hours, pulling out of me when he felt he might cum, and replacing his cock with his tongue. I was constantly on the cusp of orgasm, and alternately begged him to fuck me, then cursed him when he didn't. It was beautiful, but it was torture. Eventually, gloriously, he thrust into me and I exploded, almost literally, in a huge climax. But he hadn't cum yet, and he continued to fuck me, extending the climax from amazing, to incredible, to exquisite, to excruciating. Now I wanted him to stop, but I knew there was no way he could, and I bit down hard on the ballgag to stifle any protest I might inadvertently cry out. I was absolutely shocked when I realised he had taken me through that pain barrier, and I was cumming for a second time, just as he came for the first.
We both lay there for quite a while, panting, covered in sweat, trying to recover from that rather impressive effort. Mark unbuckled the gag and released the cuffs, and we cuddled for an age, which felt wonderful. Later on, he managed a repeat performance, without the bondage, and although I didn't cum, I don't think that was the reason. I just felt so warm and tingly, it seemed even more special. Eventually, I fell asleep in his arms, and all the cares of the world seemed to have disappeared.
When the newlyweds returned, I fully expected Adrian's abuse to resume, and I was trying to think of a way to explain it to Mark, as we seemed to have become an item since the wedding. But, to my surprise, the call never came, and life went on in its happy way for a couple of months. Maybe the responsibilities of married life had brought Adrian to his senses, I thought, though with no great conviction - he didn't seem the type to change his controlling ways.
I was surprised - no, more like stunned - when I opened the door one day to find Ella standing there. She looked as though she had been crying, and like she could start again at any moment. I ushered her into the front room and asked her what the problem was. I guessed that maybe they'd had their first tiff, and she'd didn't know how to handle it, poor lamb. Still, it must be quite serious, to drive her to seek advice or comfort from me - it would be so humiliating for her. I tried to put my most sympathetic face on.
She didn't speak, but I saw a tear roll down her cheek. She unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off her shoulders to her waist. The first thing I noticed was, she wasn't wearing a bra, and her breasts were striped horizontally, many times. I knew from bitter experience that she had been caned, hard. I also saw that her nipples had been pierced, and large gold rings now adorned them. But then she turned her back to me, and I let out a gasp of horror, when I saw the welts, some of which had broken the skin and healed badly.
"Oh my God! Darling, what happened?! When did he do this to you?" There seemed little point in pretending I didn't know it was Adrian - who else could it be? At my words, she broke down completely, and threw herself into my arms, and we hugged for a long time, the desperate sobs racking her body.
"It started... on our honeymoon," she said haltingly, when she had finally managed to regain a little of her composure, "when we got to the villa, he... tied me up... we had played tie up games before, it was fun! But this time, he had this whip... I'd never felt pain like that before, mum!"
She broke down again, and I comforted her until she could resume.
"I couldn't go to the pool and sunbathe, the marks were too bad. He kept me locked in the room, naked and handcuffed to the bed or the toilet, living off rubbish food he brought in, while he went out every night! When I begged him to let me go, he spat in my face and kept me gagged, so I wouldn't annoy him or cry for help. Every night, he came back drunk, and would cane me or whip me... he didn't even make love to me! When we got back here, it carried on even worse. He took me to some sleazy tattoo parlour and made me get these done" - she indicated the nipple rings - "and there's one down there as well!"
I felt sick at the abuse she had suffered, so much worse than I had been through - it was like he felt he now owned her, and could do what he liked.
"We must go to the police!" I said firmly, "This is clear domestic abuse."
"I can't!" she wailed, "There's... he made a DVD of me... of us... it shows me begging him to tie me up and do whatever he wants to me! He'll show them that and no-one will believe me!"
It all sounded sickeningly familiar, and I was lost for words.
"I can just about put up with the beatings," she went on, dabbing her puffy eyes, "but now he's started... strangling me... the other day, he put a polythene bag over my head until I passed out! I really think he's going to kill me!"
"We have to go and confront him," I said, wondering, even as I said it, what it would achieve. But, before we could do that, there was something I knew I had to do, and I wasn't looking forward to it.
"There's something I have to tell you, Ella," I said, then stopped, unsure how to go on. She looked at me expectantly.
"Before you were married, he did all those things to me, too." I saw the look of horror and incomprehension on her face, and rushed on before she could recover.
"I was stupid, and let him trick me," I blurted, skating around the unpalatable truth, "but then he said that unless I agreed to let him do that stuff to me, he would do it to you, and I couldn't let that happen! I couldn't say anything to you, I was so ashamed!"
Now the tears were rolling down my cheeks.
"Oh my God!" she cried and, to my surprise and immense relief, threw herself into a hug, holding me as I'd held her. For the first time in a long, long time, we were mother and daughter, lending each other mutual support and, despite the awful circumstances which brought it about, it felt good.
Ella didn't want to go back to Adrian, but she knew she had little option, and hoped my presence would make things okay. For my part, I just wanted to get it all out in the open, tell him he couldn't blackmail either of us any longer, and tell him Ella was moving back in with me.
I phoned Mark to tell him I wouldn't be able to make our date that night, but had to leave a message on his answering machine. Then we got in my car.
I was scared, but I felt that, now I'd told Ella the truth, the worst was over. How wrong I was!
Final Part (added: 2012/11/03)
How could I have been this stupid! I thought I was dealing with a sadistic blackmailer, who would cave in once he was confronted - I was always taught that if you stand up to bullies, they back down because they're cowards at heart. But Adrian isn't a bully, he's a psychopath!
When we arrived, he seemed his usual calm, pleasant self. He didn't seem surprised when I told him that I knew what he had been doing to Ella, that Ella knew about me and him, and that it had to stop, right now.
"Go to your room, Ella," he said in a level tone, "I need to talk to your mother privately."
Ella meekly went up the stairs, while Adrian led me into the drawing room. As I turned to speak to him, I was doubled up by a punch to the stomach which drove all the air out of me, and I crumpled to the floor. I was still fighting for breath and seeing stars when I felt him grab my arms and tie them behind my back. Seconds later he stuffed a gag into my mouth and strapped it in tight, making it even more difficult for me to breathe.
Now I'm here in his 'gym' room, sitting astride this... thing. It's like an upturned wedge, and I'm sitting on the pointy edge - very pointy! My ankles are tied out to each side, to eyebolts in the floor. My wrists have been pulled out horizontally behind me by a rope which goes up through a ring on the ceiling, and then down, ending in a noose around my neck - if I rock backward or forward, or try to lower my arms, the noose pulls tighter around my throat! All of my body weight is balancing on the few inches of flesh between my pussy and my arse, and it hurts already! My clothes are in tatters on the floor around me, having been cut off me and shredded before my eyes. I let out a cry of pain, and I try to adjust my position, but whatever I do, it hurts like hell!
The door opens, and Adrian re-enters, leading Ella. She's also naked, but she has a leather collar around her neck and leather cuffs locked to her wrists and ankles. He's pulling her along by a lead, like a dog, attached to the collar. Her eyes widen when she sees me, sitting atop this knife-edge, and I see a flicker across her face of... what? Amazement? Amusement? I try to call out to her, but the gag covers half my face with a leather panel, reducing my shout to a muffled whimper. Adrian tugs down on the lead, and she sinks to her knees, back bent and head down.
"I didn't believe you were this stupid, Julia, walking in here, thinking you can dictate to me!" Adrian says, walking towards me. He takes my nipple between his thumb and finger, pinching it, digging in his nails and pulling it towards him, making me rock forward so that my weight is transferred directly on to my vagina, making me scream into the gag.
"But I'm quite pleased with my little slave here, aren't you impressed? I've only been training her for two months, but she went out into the big wide world, and not only didn't try and escape, but brought you here as well!"
What is he saying? That Ella deliberately led me into this... trap? No!
"I think she'll do just about anything I tell her to," Adrian continues, stroking Ella's bowed head. "Sit up straight, slut! Breasts out, legs apart! Head up, eyes down!"
Ella assumes the position he's commanded. Adrian goes to a rack he's had installed on the wall, a rack of whips, canes, crops and floggers and, after some deliberation, takes down a small black flogger with thin-stranded tails, each ending with a shiny bead.
"As a demonstration... Slut! Up!"
Ella jumps to her feet, responding to the degrading epithet without demurring, possibly without even thinking.
"Take this, and whip your mother's cunt with it." Ella flicks a momentary glance in my direction, and I have the horrible feeling that there is a hint of a smile!
"Think about what it felt like to have your pussy whipped with this thing. See if you can make it worse for her."
I don't know what it was like for her, but it is fucking awful for me! She pushes me back on the saw horse, making the noose tighten and choke me, then brings the short leather strands down hard across my pussy lips, already parted slightly by the wooden edge, exposing my moist inner flesh to this assault.
The pain is like nothing I've ever experienced, even childbirth wasn't this bad! I'm screaming like a banshee as she whips me again and again. Please make it stop! She tries all angles to make sure she catches every inch of my venus mound, lips and hole that she can get at. I look at her face, and now the manic glee is unmistakable! Has she lost her mind? Has she been brainwashed? Or does she hate me so much that she is loving making me suffer?
Ella immediately stops whipping me and falls to her knees in front of Adrian. He has his erect cock sticking out of his trousers, clearly aroused by watching me being beaten, and she takes it in her mouth, her head moving forward and back as she services him. It's only a matter of moments before he grabs her hair and forces himself deep into her throat, and I see her turn a nasty shade of red as he cuts off her air supply - such a familiar experience. I shut my eyes to block out the memories, and to try and deal with the throbbing pain in my groin, but I can still hear her choking and gagging on his cock.
"Clean!" Adrian commands, and I know he must have finished. I open my eyes to the sight of Ella, her face and hair dripping with his cum, licking the last gobbets of sperm from his semi-erect member, before he puts it back in his pants.
"You should be very proud, Julia, she's very good, almost as good as you."
He takes my nipple between thumb and forefinger, but rather than squeeze it, he rubs and rolls it until it is firm and erect. Just as I start to feel my heart rate starting to climb, aroused despite the pain still torturing me, I feel a sharp pain from the nipple, and look down to see a metal clamp pinching down hard on it, the jaws closing even tighter as he turns the screw on the clamp until the nipple is squashed and distended.
He repeats this on the other nipple, and now my pain has another centre - it feels as if the only parts of my body that exist are my pussy and my breasts, and the only sensation is an aching, pulsing pain.
The clamps are joined by a chain, and I watch with mounting disquiet as he ties a length of string to the chain, then passes this through an eyebolt on the ceiling.
"Slut! Bring me the weights."
Ella scurries across the room, and comes back with a box, which she holds in front of Adrian, eyes downcast. He takes a metal sphere, about an inch in diameter, with a hook at the top, and ties it to the end of the string. When he lets go, I feel the nipple clamps lift up, pulling slightly. He takes another weight from the box and hooks it around the string, the first weight stopping it sliding off. My nipples are now pulled upwards, not too painfully so far, but Adrian keeps adding more and more of the weights, and now the whole weight of my heavy breasts is being taken by my nipples! As the clamps pull more, they seem to bite deeper into my soft flesh - it feels like my buds will be ripped off!
I lean forward, trying to reduce the pressure, but this just increases the pressure on my tortured pussy, and now I can't move back without pulling on my nipples! I'm stuck, and I can see Adrian still adding more weights!
"Let's give your mother a little time and space to fully appreciate her stupidity, and the hopelessness of her situation. Come, Slut!"
Ella dutifully walks to the door behind Adrian, but just as she reaches the door, I see her look back at me. I see the smile on her face, but what scares me is the look of hate in her eyes. What the hell has he done to her, to turn her into this hateful, cowed creature?
The lights go out and the door slams shut, leaving me alone in the dark with my pain. I know already that I would do anything to stop this agony shooting through my body, emanating from my most sensitive parts. Maybe I'm beginning to understand what has turned Ella into what she has become - I've been suffering this for an hour; she's had two months of it!
How could I not have seen this was happening to her? I realise that I didn't want to see - I knew what Adrian was like, I knew someone must be suffering. I was just glad it wasn't me. And now look where my wilful blindness had got me!
I don't know quite how I survived that night. My pain went from an intense, burning sensation to a dull, nagging ache, and then to the point where I felt almost numb. But then, as the hours went by, it came back with a vengeance, growing to the point where it seemed totally unbearable. But, of course, I had to bear it. I couldn't find any position in which I could obtain any relief. It wasn't just the obvious places which hurt - my nipples clamped and dragged towards the ceiling, my pussy forced down on the sharp wooden point between my legs, supporting my entire body weight - but also my hamstrings screamed at being stretched out; my shoulders protesting at the unnatural rotation of my arms behind me; and the rope tight around my neck, choking me, chafing as it kept me upright on the torture device.
Remarkably, I managed fleeting snatches of sleep, as my tortured body found its balance point for a while, and my mind shut down. When I was awake, there was only one thought in my mind - how could I escape this madman? The only person who had any idea I was here was Mark, and I had no idea if he would even think there was anything suspicious about me dropping off his radar - our relationship was still fairly casual, and I feared he would just think I had ended it. I had very little hope that he would come riding to my rescue. My best hope was that Adrian was just going to torment me for the weekend, as he had done before - although never anything this violent - but somehow I knew this was different. He had revealed his control of Ella, he no longer held that threat of exposure over me, but the implication was that he felt he didn't need it. That thought filled me with fear.
"I hope you had a good night, Cunt?"
I jerked my head up at the sound of his voice - I must have been dozing. He was standing in front of me, that hateful smile on his face, with Ella already kneeling on the floor. I felt pathetically grateful when they untied me from the saw horse, and I slid off it and on to the floor. But then I started screaming into the gag, as the blood flowed back into my nipples and pussy, reminding me how numb they had actually become, and how bruised and damaged they actually were.
"You look tired, Cunt," Adrian said as he turned me onto my back with his boot and looked into my eyes.
"I think you deserve a reward for riding my little pony for so long. Slut, help me get Cunt onto the fucking machine."
I was so exhausted, it was like they were moving a rag doll around. I felt myself lifted onto another piece of equipment, lying on my back, with my legs, head and arms hanging down from the sides of this bench. It was uncomfortable, but I could have fallen asleep if I was left alone. But of course, I wasn't left alone. I felt straps applied around my wrists and ankles, holding my arms below me and my legs above me, splayed wide apart. The gag was finally removed from my mouth, and I exercised my aching jaw. But I was quickly re-gagged, this time with a ring gag, but this seemed to be attached to the bench on which I lay, so that I could no longer raise my head, even if I'd had the strength to do so.
I felt something nudging between my pussy lips, opening me up. It was the head of a dildo and, by the feel of it, quite a big one. I let out a cry as it pressed against my sore flesh, but further expressions of discomfort were prevented, as my mouth was filled by a similar device poking through the ring gag. My cry of alarm, as a third shaft invaded my anus, was stifled to the point almost of silence. Slowly, all three were driven into me and withdrawn, then the motion repeated as the pistons and gears driving them turned.
The overwhelming feelings I had were of being choked, being violated anally, and being tortured afresh in my oh-so-tender pussy. There was no pleasure at this stage, only pain.
"I'll leave you to enjoy that for a while, Cunt, I have things to do," I heard Adrian say somewhere above me. "Slut, you may give her a wax treatment."
"Thank you, Master!" I could hear the excitement in Ella's voice.
'Master?' I thought, 'She's either been completely brainwashed, is terrified, or she's really into this master-slave thing!'
The constant in-out motion of the dildos was starting to have an effect on me. I managed to get my breathing into a rhythm with the one in my mouth, and I tried to ignore the discomfort of having one rammed repeatedly into my rectum - I had become quite desensitised to the awfulness of anal penetration over the last few months, something I generally found depressing, but it was a boon in these circumstances. Meanwhile, the ache in my pussy had begun to be replaced by a familiar arousal, my wetness seeming to soothe the pain of my night's torment.
Suddenly, I felt a searing pain on my stomach and screamed in shock, quickly silenced by the oral intruder. The pain quickly faded, but there was another stabbing feeling close by. I tried to wriggle out of the way, but of course, could hardly move. As I felt the sting bite into me for a third time, this one close to my belly button, I realised what it was - my 'wax treatment'; Ella was dripping burning hot wax onto my bare skin!
It is unnerving to keep being stabbed, as it felt like, with no warning of when or where the next attack would be delivered, and unable to express the resulting pain with a healthy scream. I felt the drips all across my stomach, then dribbling over my chest, even onto my neck, where a little puddle of wax formed and congealed in the hollow just above my sternum. Although I had no way to vent my distress, I was sure Ella knew how much she was hurting me - she'd probably experienced the exact same thing.
"I hope you're enjoying this, Cunt," I heard her hiss at me, "because it's only going to get worse. How does it feel if I do it here?"
As she said this, I felt the wax drip onto the soft flesh of my right breast, then a trail of drips, culminating in one after another landing on my right nipple, until it must have been completely encased in wax. The same treatment was meted out on my left breast, driving me insane with the constantly increasing sensation of burning liquid eating into my skin. I emitted a long, staccato scream, interrupted several times as my throat was blocked by the dildo driving into me. It was unbelievably, excruciatingly painful. How could it be any worse?
Oh, it could be so much worse! I felt her fingers on me, pulling my bare pussy lips apart, exposing my wet, aroused, engorged, incredibly sensitive clitoris!
No!!! You're my daughter! Surely, you can't do this to your own flesh and blood?!
But she was only ensuring that I suffered the same torture that she had endured at the hands of her sadistic husband. That understanding didn't help me cope with what I felt when she dripped the wax onto my already tortured clit. The pain was, literally, indescribable - unless you have experienced it, there is no point me trying to explain, the English language doesn't support it. Just think of the worst pain you've ever suffered and multiply it by a factor of at least a hundred.
This seemed to be her piece de resistance, she left me alone after that, left me to suffer from the aftershocks of her treatment. Any thoughts of arousal had long since been driven from my body, as well as my mind. I heard the door open, and assumed Adrian was back.
"You have done well, Slut," he said as I felt his fingers on my body, picking at the solidified wax, "we'll make a torturer of you yet."
"Thank you, Master!" Ella simpered.
"Observe this easy way to remove all this wax once it's finished with."
Moments later, I felt the fronds of a flogger beating down on my tortured body, lashing me in all the places where the wax had burned me, including across my pussy. My pain threshold had been passed long ago, and I don't know if I passed out, but the next thing I really remember, I was no longer on the fucking machine, or even in the gym / torture room, I was outside on the grass. Maybe Adrian had carried me out there - or, more likely, dragged me out there. The only bondage I was wearing was a pair of handcuffs holding my wrists behind my back, and a rope tied around my neck.
Adrian pulled me to my feet using the rope, and led me to an area of his extensive property I hadn't seen before, with Ella following dutifully behind.
"Unfortunately, I have to go away on business this week," Adrian said as we walked through the long grass, "but don't worry, Slut will look after you."
"But Adrian... Sir... Master..." I said, trying to find some term of address which would get him to listen to me - funny how quickly I sank to calling him Master - "I have to be at work tomorrow..."
"Don't worry about that, Cunt," he replied breezily, "I've already submitted your letter of resignation - you won't be going back there."
I was stunned - he'd 'resigned' me?! How could that even be possible? But when I thought about it, I realised they would just accept that I had left them in the lurch - they already thought I'd been acting weird for months, and the headmaster would probably be quite relieved to see the back of me, with my 'bad attitude' and my slutty clothes. People had commented on me going and sitting in some expensive car at lunchtime, then coming back looking ruffled and flustered. I had some people I called friends there, and they would probably be really hurt at my having just left without telling them, but none of were likely to go round to my house to see if I was okay. I saw myself just disappearing off the face of the Earth, and nobody caring - how sad is that?!
We came to an old barn, and my fear level rose as I imagined the tortures he could subject me to in there. But we went around the building, into a corner of the courtyard which lay behind. There was a big metal plate on the concrete, about two feet by three feet, and it was hinged along one of the short sides, with a huge padlock at the other side. Adrian unlocked the padlock, lifted the metal cover, and I saw that beneath it was a hole.
"This is my holding pen for untrained slaves like you," he said. "You can spend the time, while I'm away, thinking about all the bad decisions you've made in your worthless little life."
He led me to the edge of the hole, and I could see it was lined with metal, and there was a steel ladder on one side. Adrian unlocked my cuffs, and pushed me towards the hole. I contemplated running for my life at that stage, but he still had hold of the rope around my neck.
"Are you going to get in, Cunt, or do you want me to drop you in?" he threatened. Faced with that choice, I put my feet on the rungs of the ladder and descended into the darkness.
I was actually climbing down into an underground metal tank - maybe an old storage or septic tank - about five feet wide, seven feet long, and ten feet deep. The air was cold, damp and smelly, despite it being hot and sunny outside. In the dim light, I could see a bucket in one corner, and a dirty, old mattress in another, and that was all.
"Please! Don't leave me here! I beg you!" I called plaintively up to the two figures at the square of light above me. I'm sure I heard them both laugh, then the metal plate clanged shut, engulfing me in total blackness. I heard the padlock being put back in place, then silence. Absolute silence.
I explored my cold, dark prison by touch. It didn't take long. I sat on the mattress, hugged my knees, and cried. I cried for myself - for my ruined life, my lack of real friends, my missed opportunities, my terrible decisions, my hopeless situation - and for my daughter - whatever she had become, whatever she did to me, she was still my daughter, I still loved her, and I hated to see her suffer.
I was shivering in the cold air, and I hated the pitch black - I literally couldn't see my hand in front of my face. I knew now that, even if someone came looking for me, even if the police raided this place, the chances of them finding me were nil. I was beyond any kind of hope now, nothing and no-one could save me from Adrian.
I wondered what my poor Ella had been through for the last two months. She had been so happy on her wedding day, and had gone off with such optimism, it must have crushed her spirit when she found out that it was all a sham, the man she thought she had married didn't exist, but in his place was this controlling, sick, sadistic pervert.
I slept badly on the stinking mattress, and had no idea how long I had been there when I woke up. I needed to pee, and I felt my way to the bucket to relieve myself. As I sat there for hour after hour, I realised how hungry I was, and wondered if they would feed me, or just leave me there to starve. Adrian had spoken as if he would see me again, and that Ella would 'look after' me, but I was sure that, if it would amuse or arouse him, my son-in-law would be quite prepared to let me die in here.
At last I heard a noise above, and the square of light reappeared, hurting my eyes as I looked up to see who was there.
"Here's your food, Cunt." It was Ella's voice, and something fell down to the metal floor. When I went over, I found a baton of French bread, probably bought a day or two previously, as it was stale and hard.
"Catch!" I looked up and saw something falling towards me, but I couldn't catch it, and it hit the ground at me feet. It was a plastic water bottle, which burst on impact, splashing me with cold water.
"Oh dear, better luck tomorrow, Cunt!"
"Ella! Wait! Please don't do this!" But the light faded and the metal hatch clanged shut like a tomb closing. I felt around for the broken bottle, carefully picking it up to preserve the little water left in it, and retreated back to the mattress with my meagre rations.
I spent the time between sleeping just sitting on the bed, hugging myself, trying to keep warm. When I had to go to the toilet, my bowels were horribly loose, and the whole tank was filled with the stink of my diarrhoea. I gnawed at the bread, but I was still very hungry and terribly thirsty and dehydrated. My head was hurting and I couldn't stop crying.
I kept thinking about Mark, and what I thought was a promising relationship with a fun guy, the only good thing to come out of knowing Adrian, and how that was now just a thing of the past - he would wonder why I hadn't called, probably be angry at me for treating him this way, shrug his shoulders, and move on. It wasn't as though he couldn't get another woman pretty easily, one nearer his own age, not an old slapper like me. I was rapidly becoming totally depressed.
When the hatch re-opened, I got across to be underneath it quickly, and made sure I caught the bottle this time - I needed to drink. Before I even had time to try and talk to my daughter, she was gone, and I was shut in the dark again, my human contact over for the day.
When the hatch opened for the third time, it was raining out there in the world, and as I stood waiting for my food and water, the rain fell on my upturned face, making me shiver even more.
"Having fun down there, Cunt?"
"Please, Ella!" I called up to her, "Please help me! I'm freezing, I'm tired, and I'm starving! I'm going to die down here! You have to let me out!"
"Master said for you to stay in there, so you stay in there! He should be back in three or four days, he'll probably want to play with you then,"
"Please, Ella, why are you doing this to me?" There was a long silence from above.
"I had to spend two weeks in there when I came back from my honeymoon, and do you know what I spent my time thinking about? I was thinking about the DVD my husband had made me watch of my own mother fucking him! The one thing I had of my own, and you couldn't leave him alone could you? You couldn't stand to see me with someone, so you had to have him, didn't you? Well, I hope you're happy now!"
The metal hatch slammed down, and I wept all over again.
As time dragged on, I knew I was becoming weaker. It felt like I had dysentery, and I was permanently shivering. I dragged the mattress under the hatch, as I couldn't catch anything, and needed to break the fall of the water bottles, otherwise I didn't get enough to drink.
I had given up begging with Ella, and she didn't bother to talk to me, so the time when the tank was open and the fetid air could escape was only a matter of maybe thirty seconds. My headache was permanent now, and all my joints ached. I spent more and more time just lying, curled up in a ball, on the mattress. I hardly thought about anything anymore, I just waited. I'm not sure if I was waiting for release, or for death - either was preferable to this.
"Hello, Cunt. Time to get out of your stinking hole now."
I hear Adrian's voice, as if from a long, long way away, but I don't respond, I don't move. I can't move. I have been in here for God knows how long, and my body just won't work anymore.
"If you don't get up, Cunt, you're going to die in there. Do you want to die in there?"
Yes! Please, just let me die in peace! But some instinct for survival I didn't know I had kicks in and, with a supreme effort, I manage to drag myself to my feet, and grab the rungs of the ladder. I put my foot on the bottom rung and push with all my energy. I lift myself up onto the rung, but when I try to take another step, my grip fails and I fall backwards, back onto the mattress covered in my excrement.
"Please, master!" I croak, my voice breaking as I use my dry throat for the first time in days, "Please help me! I don't want to die in here!"
I feel something land on me from above, leather straps on the end of a rope.
"Put those around your wrists, and we'll pull you up."
I fumble with the straps and buckle them as tight as I can, then I feel my arms being pulled upwards, eventually lifting my whole body up into the air. I screw my eyes shut against the incredible brightness of the sunlight, as I emerge from the darkness into the day, sprawling in the dirt and revelling in the heat of the sun on my skin.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Cunt? What have you learned from your time in the dark?"
"That I will do anything you want, Master, as long as I don't have to go in there again! I'm a worthless cunt, and you can do whatever you wish to me!"
It sounds insincere, but I mean every word - I am completely broken. I am as much his slave as Ella.
"Good! Slut! Bring her back to the house, clean her up and feed her! Then set her to work, she's done enough lying around!"
As the days went by, the pattern of my new life began to emerge. When Adrian was around, the time was filled with pain and terror. All restraints on his sadistic tendencies seemed to have been removed by the latest turn of events, and I feared for my life most of the time. The beatings became harsher, the sexual assaults more violent, the asphyxiation games leaving me unconscious more often. Through this, Ella was an eager spectator, sometimes a willing assistant, occasionally a full participant in my torture. Once again, it seemed, my suffering took the place of my daughter's, and she was quite happy about that.
When Adrian was away on business, I was left in the 'care' of Ella, who had clearly been learning from her husband, and treated me with venal cruelty. I had tried to fight back at first, but she was younger, fitter, and stronger than me and, while we were both kept naked except for leather collar and cuffs, mine were chained together, restricting my movement and manoeuvrability in a fight. She took a riding crop to me, and beat me as she forced me to do all the household chores.
As a result, my skin was badly marked from the crop, cane and whip, and my body ached from the constant mistreatment. I was also tired all the time, as I had to sleep on the bare floor, chained to the nearest immovable object, and I was usually left in some form of uncomfortable bondage.
My life had become a living hell, and I could see no way out. It seemed like I had received a life sentence of imprisonment, hard labour, corporal punishment, and sexual abuse. I didn't dare make any attempt to escape, as I was certain that failure would be punished by death. But I seemed to be facing no other prospect than a slow and painful decline, probably followed by a swift and terrifying death. I had finally abandoned all hope.
I'm hanging by my wrists from the whipping frame. My legs are chained to the sides, wide apart, my feet well off the ground. Every muscle in my body aches from being suspended in this unnatural position, but my breasts, thighs, buttocks, and back are throbbing with the pain of the beating I received earlier. It was one of the worst so far, made all the more unbearable by the fact that it was delivered by both of them, simultaneously. There can be no more soul-destroying sight than that of your daughter standing in front of you, mercilessly, and gleefully, flogging your pussy.
I'm exhausted. My head would be lolling on my chest now, if it wasn't for the stiff, high leather posture collar encasing my neck, not only keeping my head up but preventing me from turning to either side. I'm facing the mirrored glass wall which, with the curtains open and the garden in darkness, reflects my image back to me, so I can see, as well as feel, the large weights clamped to my nipples and pulling my breasts down towards the floor. This is complemented by the matching weights suspended from my labia, dragging them out of shape as the lead balls dangle below me. I can also see the red lines across my body where the cane and the whip have struck. They seem to mark every inch of my flesh, and I continue to feel their sting. I close my eyes for a moment against the pain.
"Well, you seem very curious about Julia, so here she is." Adrian's voice drifts into my ears, but I don't respond, preferring to shut out this cruel world behind my eyelids.
"Oh my God! What a mess!" The familiarity of the voice strikes me, and I wearily open my eyes.
Adrian is standing before me, with his trademark grin and cold eyes. But next to him is - Mark! Oh my God, it's the one person who might possibly rescue me from this nightmare! I'm not gagged - Adrian and Ella enjoy hearing me scream and beg for mercy too much - but when I try to speak, my throat is too dry and cracked from my desperate cries and howls of anguish earlier in the evening. I try to signal with my eyes - please save me!
"Here, this'll make you laugh," Adrian says, and I know this is not going to be good.
He drains the bottle of beer he is carrying, then steps up to me, and I feel him fingering my pussy. I'm completely dry, but that doesn't stop him forcing the neck of the bottle into me, eliciting a pained grunt from my ripped throat. He twists and turns the bottle until the whole of the neck is inside me, then continues to work it. I know he will succeed in his nasty little trick - he's forced his balled fist into me before - but I let out a full, inarticulate cry of protest as he thrusts the shoulders of the bottle and half its body inside me.
"Okay, your turn."
I look imploringly at Mark, and see a momentary flicker of doubt, before a broad grin spreads across his face, and he walks behind me. I feel the bottle pressing against my anus, and then, without the benefit of lubricant, the neck is forced into me, stretching and filling my rectum - it is not the longest or the fattest thing I've had up there, but it is very painful nonetheless.
"It looks like she's taken a few pretty severe beatings," I hear Mark say as he runs his fingers along some of the welts, old and new. I try to identify a tone of sympathy, or maybe accusation, but it sounds more like fascination.
"Yes, I like to see her suffer," Adrian says nonchalantly, "Why don't you have a go?"
Mark has walked back in front of me, and I see that flicker of uncertainty again.
"She looks pretty cut up already," he says, with more than a hint of doubt.
"So what?" Adrian remarks disdainfully, "What's she going to do about it, complain?" He laughs, briefly and coldly.
"You have to get over this namby-pamby concern if you're going to be a proper slave owner," he adds, and I see Mark nod in agreement, acknowledging his momentary weakness.
"You're right," he replies, "I have to stop thinking of her as a person - she's just a fuck-toy for us."
"I find it helps to use her new name. Isn't that right, Cunt?"
I make no reply. I feel a tear roll down my cheek, and know it is for the death of hope, so recently kindled - Mark is just another sadistic freak, how could I have thought differently? What an idiot I am!
"Here, give her a taste of this."
I open my eyes and see Adrian hand Mark the bullwhip. Oh fuck! This is a serious weapon, one I've suffered only rarely, but memories of those occasions fill me with terror. Mark has gone out of my sight behind me, while Adrian stands in front of me, staring into my frightened eyes, smiling.
My back explodes in pain, and I scream a horrible, broken scream, torn from me. Another blow, lower this time, another scream. A third, and a fourth - the whole of my back is on fire, and the tears I didn't know I still had stream from my eyes, as Adrian and I continue to lock our gaze, him seeing my pain and terror, me seeing his lust and excitement.
"Harder, Mark!" he shouts, not taking his eyes off me. "Really give it to her!"
As the whip strikes again, I feel the skin rip open, and the hot blood trickling down my back. A second lash hits me across the buttocks, and they are sliced as if with a knife. At that point the pain overwhelms me and I lose consciousness, my brain shutting down to try to protect me.
"...done a fine job there, Mark, I really enjoyed watching her suffer."
The room swims back into view, and the excruciating pain returns. My two tormentors are standing in front of me, fresh beers in their hands, admiring their handiwork.
"Do you know what I'd enjoy watching?" Mark says, with what looks like a nervous grin. "The look on her face as I fuck her... and choke her to death!"
Oh Christ, not you, Mark, not you! I've come to terms with the prospect of being killed by Adrian, but not you! I thought that, in time, I could love you! We had such fun! And all the time, you were imagining yourself strangling me at the point of orgasm?! Now I have no further to fall, I'm at rock bottom.
"Well, well, well!" Adrian says admiringly, putting an arm on Mark's shoulder, "I didn't think you had it in you! Let's do her together, right here, right now!"
"No!" Mark says, with what sounds like alarm, "I mean, I've never done this before... I think I'd want to do it alone, at least the first time."
"I understand," Adrian says proudly, like some jovial uncle, "how would you do it?"
"I'm not sure," Mark replies, "got any advice?"
"I'll tell you what," Adrian says enthusiastically, "I'll not only let you 'off' this stupid Cunt, I'll lend you some of my snuff movies, just for ideas."
"You've done this before?" Oh fuck, I can hear the awe and respect in his voice!
"Of course," Adrian smirks, "when you've done the mother, we can do the daughter together."
"Wow! That sounds awesome!"
"Let's get the bitch ready for transportation!"
I'm suspended by the D ring at the top of the head harness I'm wearing, a position which is incredibly uncomfortable, my whole weight being borne by the leather strap under my chin and the ball filling my mouth. I try to relieve the pressure, to help me breathe, by grasping the rope above me to support my body, but it is very difficult, and I can only manage it for a few moments. We've been joined by Ella, carrying a large number of rolls of black tape.
"This is bondage tape," Adrian explains, as he wraps it around my ankles, binding them together, "it sticks to itself but not to skin or hair, so it makes this job a hell of a lot easier."
He wraps my feet until they are completely covered, as if I'm wearing a black boot into which both feet fit. Once this is done, he lowers me until I can stand on the floor, which is a great relief to me, but I realise it has only been done to make their job easier.
They start to work on me together, Mark wrapping the tape around my legs, while Adrian binds my arms tight by my sides, fingers straight down against my thighs. I watch in the mirror wall as my body disappears under the black tape, pulled tight so that it squeezes me all over, making movement increasingly difficult, and as my chest is encased, making my breathing more laboured.
As Mark reaches the top of my thighs, I can feel Adrian prising my pussy lips apart and pressing something against my clitoris, but I can't see what he is doing. Mark continues taping, covering my pussy and joining up with the taping done by Adrian.
When Adrian reaches my breasts, he wraps the tape over, under, and between them, leaving them bare, but squeezing them tight so they bulge out. The mummification continues across my chest and over my shoulders, then covering the posture collar I am still wearing, and on up to my face. There is a pause only while Adrian forces some short tubes painfully far up my nostrils, then he continues until my whole head is covered, other than my eyes and ears, with the ends of the tubes poking out from the unrecognisable surface that is my face.
"Come and say goodbye to your mother, Slut," Adrian says to Ella, "she's going to be my good friend Mark's slave, and you won't be seeing her again."
Ella steps in front of me, and I can see the curl of her lip, half smiling, half snarling.
"Goodbye, Cunt," she growls, "I hope you do a better job for him than you ever did here."
She doesn't know! I try to warn her, that they're going to kill her, but my muffled cries make barely a sound. As a final insult, she hawks up a gob of phlegm and spits it in the only visible part of my face, my eyes.
"It's been good knowing you, Julia," Adrian says as he replaces Ella in my line of vision, "but all good things must come to an end." He pushes wax plugs into my ears, then adds the final tape, leaving me entirely encased, except for my breasts. I am cast adrift in a silent, sightless world.
I feel myself lain down on the floor. Suddenly, a jolting pain erupts in my clitoris, and I realise that the thing they placed there must be under remote control, and is delivering a terrible shock of electricity into my most sensitive part! I writhe on the floor, screaming into the gag and the tape, knowing I probably look and sound comical to these bastards, as they watch my mummified form judder ineffectually before them.
After a few minutes, the shocking stops, but someone tries to pick me up by the simple expedient of grabbing my nipples and pulling. They start to thrash my prone figure with a variety of weapons, and it is immediately obvious that the tape does not prevent the transmission of the force of a blow through to my skin, and I am squirming in agony once more.
I'm left for a moment, before I feel a rope tied around my ankles, and I'm dragged across the floor, feet first. I feel the resistance of the carpet, then sliding (tiles in the hall?), then bumping down steps, making me think I'm outside. I feel the gravel, before I'm lifted up in the air and put down again.
I feel the vibrations of an engine - I'm being driven away. Driven to my death.
After only a few minutes, I felt the engine stop, and I wondered what was going on - surely Mark wasn't going to kill me so close to Adrian's house? The tape was removed from my eyes, and I saw Mark looking down at me and, I felt sure, looking scared and upset. I could see his lips moving, but couldn't hear anything. I realised I must be in the boot of his car, and he had just stopped on the side of the road. I was frightened, but above all, confused.
He unwrapped my head as quickly as he could, removing the ball gag once he was able. At that point, I could shout 'Earplugs!' at him, and he pulled them out.
"Oh my God, Julia, are you alright?" he asked urgently, not pausing in the task of releasing me.
"W-what?" I stammered in my befuddled state, "Are you going to kill me now?"
"Shit! No! I'm sorry, I had to say that stuff, I had to get you out of there!" I continued to look baffled and frightened at the same time.
"I'll explain everything," he said as he unwrapped me, "first, let's get you free, then I'm taking you to the hospital, then we're going to the police!"
I just lay there as he unwrapped me, a much quicker process than the mummification had been. Everything hurt, including my brain, and I couldn't take in what was happening. All I knew was that I wasn't about to die, and Mark seemed to be showing compassion.
He also seemed to realise I wasn't up to long explanations, and he just said calming things like 'it's okay, you're safe now' while he released me. When I was free from my bondage, he wrapped me in a car blanket and hugged me. Mmm, that felt good! He picked me up and gently put me down on the back seat of the car, where I lay down, almost immediately falling asleep.
At the hospital, they treated my wounds and decided to keep me in overnight, due to my obviously exhausted condition. They also decided to call the police, and it looked bad for Mark for a while, as they assumed he had done this to me (well, he had, but we didn't tell them that). Eventually, he managed to persuade them to view the DVDs Adrian had given to him, and at that point, they started to believe his story, and headed off to raid his house.
They sedated me and I slept like a baby, but when I woke up, Mark was by my bedside and, after some breakfast, I was eager to hear his story.
"I was a bit surprised and annoyed when you blew me off, and then didn't return my calls," he began, "but then I called your school and they said you'd resigned, which didn't sound like you at all. I went round to your house, and saw there was a 'For Sale' sign up!" I was shocked at this -I hadn't known Adrian intended to sell my house!
"I found out from the estate agent that it was being sold by Ella," he continued, "and that, combined with your message, made me think that Adrian and Ella might know where you were. But something stopped me from approaching them directly. What he'd done to you on that stag weekend, and the wedding day, made me wonder. It took me a couple of weeks before I could get Adrian to invite me round without raising his suspicions. When I finally got in there, I couldn't believe what they had been doing to you!"
The distress in his voice started me off, and we hugged for some time while I had a little weep.
"I knew that, if I gave the game away, he could just make you disappear for good, and going to the police with no evidence was worse than useless. So, I had to pretend to be as sick as he is. Having to whip you last night was the worst thing I have ever had to do!"
"God, Mark, I think I love you!" I gushed through my renewed tears.
"That's just the drugs talking," he smiled, "I'll have a word with the nurse and see if I can get some more!"
I was discharged later that day, and moved into Mark's place while things settled down. It took a month to unwind the deal on my house, and to get my job back. The school were nervous at first, but I managed to convince them that my 'unusual' behaviour and sudden resignation had been caused by the events they were bound to hear about in the upcoming court case, but that they would not be repeated.
It took six months for Adrian to finally appear in court, and it was a terrible ordeal for both me and for Ella, as we were the key prosecution witnesses. The defence did their best to destroy both of us in the witness box, making out we were willing participants in everything that had happened. Fortunately, the jury believed us, and he was eventually convicted on charges of false imprisonment, rape, Grievous and Actual Bodily Harm - unfortunately they couldn't prove the snuff DVDs were genuine, so he got off the murder charges.
It took rather longer, and a lot of individual and joint therapy, for Ella and me to come to any kind of reconciliation. Just dealing with the guilt both of us felt for getting embroiled with Adrian, and how we had each betrayed the other, was a Herculean task, and one we are still working at. We also both had to deal with the fact that, at some level and to some degree, we had gone along with what Adrian had done to us, even enjoyed it at some points - obviously not the more extreme, violent and frightening aspects, but, at least in my case, some of the sex and bondage had been intensely arousing.
Now, twelve months later, Mark and I are still together, living at his place. Ella is at our old house, and is divorced. We don't exactly see eye to eye on many things, but we have managed to put that time behind us.
Throughout this, Mark was a tower of strength, and we became ever closer. He has always been very careful to avoid bringing back any unwelcome memories of my imprisonment and torture by Adrian. But, eventually, I came to recognise that, despite all that had gone before, I wanted him to be more forceful, more commanding with me. He took quite a lot of persuading.
"Mark," I explained nervously one evening as we lay together on the bed, flushed from a rather energetic bout of love-making, "I trust you completely, I seriously think I might love you. That's why I want you to tie me up and make me do dirty things to you! I want it so badly! Please believe me, it's really what I need to be fulfilled, sexually."
"Well, what can I say?" he replied with a look of mock exasperation, "if you insist on me forcing you into degrading acts of sexual submission, who am I to argue?"
Literally from that moment on, our sex life moved up several gears. It was as if, as the ropes (and chains and gags) went onto my body, the shackles fell away from both my mind and my libido. It was, and is, sensational! We now regularly play little master-slave games, with me in chains, 'serving' him. He even occasionally gives me a light spanking, just to show who's in charge!
I don't know where my life will go from here. I'm just grateful I still have a life to live, and, touch wood, someone to live it with!