Depraved
by Jennifer Harrison
Part 5

Author’s comment: this is result of a collaborative effort between me and mrhungry.

Amanda woke up with that slightly disoriented feeling many of us suffer – where am I, what was I doing before I fell asleep, why am I tied to the bed? – but it quickly passed as the events of the previous evening came back to her. She was relieved to find that the cincher and boots had been removed, but she was alone, and she wondered where Ingrid was.

"Good morning!" the gorgeous German sang out brightly as she entered the bedroom carrying a tray laden with food, and a solitary red rose rising out of a delicate glass vase. Amanda lifted her head as Ingrid approached, and after taking in the beauty of her naked friend, looked over the items on the tray as it was set down on a side table. It seemed the woman had brought a wide assortment of breads, fruits, and juices, hoping to supply something Amanda might find appealing. However, the most appealing thing in sight was the woman who sat next to her on the bed. Ingrid leaned over Amanda's outstretched body and kissed her passionately, her lips lingering there, lightly touching Amanda's, before smothering her with another lust-filled kiss.

“How are you this morning, Amanda?” she asked as she broke the kiss.

“I feel wonderful, Miss Ingrid,” Amanda replied, gazing lustfully at the naked body above her, then eying the breakfast tray hungrily.

“Excellent,” the supermodel said, smiling, “do you like honey?”

“Yes, Miss Ingrid.” She watched as Ingrid picked up the small pot of honey, and took out the honey dipper, allowing the honey to drip off the wooden implement and back into the pot. Then she moved the pot and allowed the honey to ooze onto her own breasts.

“Oh dear,” she said in mock surprise, “I seem to have had an accident! Perhaps you would be a darling and clear it up for me?”

A response wasn’t needed, as she leaned forward and positioned her breasts in front of Amanda’s face. The younger woman needed no further encouragement, reaching forward to lick and suck first one sticky, sweet nipple, then the other. Ingrid let out a satisfied moan, almost a purr, as she felt her nipples sucked, licked and gently nibbled.

“Hmm, that is so good! Would you like a little more, honey?”

“Oh yes, please, Miss Ingrid!”

Ingrid sat astride Amanda, who watched the honey drizzle onto Ingrid’s manicured pubic hair and slide between her labia. The bound submissive could hardly wait to get her tongue into that cleft and lick out the sweet nectar. Ingrid swiftly turned around so that, as Amanda worked to stimulate her clitoris, she could reciprocate. Both women lapped away eagerly, while at the same time responding to the delicate touch of the other. As the minutes passed, so did the delicacy of their desire. As each woman began to feel the warmness inside grow, those feelings of arousal caused their attentions upon the other to become more concentrated, more focused on inciting the pleasure each yearned for. Nearly simultaneously, they climaxed in a crescendo of moans, yelps, and muffled cries.

“I’m glad to see you ladies are enjoying each other,” Janes said as he leaned against the doorframe. Ingrid straightened up, a little out of breath, but with a broad smile on her face.

“Why don’t you join us Victor, I’m sure we’d all enjoy a threesome?” Amanda desperately wanted to add her voice to try and persuade him, but knew it wasn’t her place – the dominant ones here would decide what to do with her, she had no say in the matter. She also doubted whether the man she so desired even saw her in that way – she was just another client, another sad, desperate woman who had to pay for sex, at least the kind of sex she wanted. Janes employed other people to fuck her, he was clearly not interested in her himself.

“I’d love to, Ingrid,” Janes replied with a wry smile, “but you need to catch a plane and I need to get Charlotte to the fair.”

“Hmm,” Ingrid purred, “I could get a later flight, and you two could be a little late.” Janes walked over to the bed and slapped Ingrid on the buttock,

“Get thee behind me, Satan!” he laughed. “In the shower, both of you! I want to leave here in twenty minutes!”

It took rather more than twenty minutes, as they showered together, giggling like schoolgirls, before indulging in some heavy petting, which eventually led to a mutual orgasm under the warm spray.

“Please may I ask a question, Miss Ingrid?” Amanda asked as they dried themselves.

“Ask me anything, little one.”

“Have you… you know… with Him?” Ingrid smiled at the capital ‘H’ she heard in the sub’s voice.

“Not once in the ten years I’ve known him!”

Amanda looked crestfallen. “Do you think he’s… gay?”

Ingrid laughed out loud at this. “Victor? No way! He just doesn’t screw his clients – either way.”

Amanda looked thoughtful as they went through to the bedroom. She only knew Janes – she couldn’t call him Victor, even in her thoughts – because of their professional relationship, which apparently prevented her from having a personal relationship with him, something she desired above all else. She seemed to be in a Catch-22 situation, and she couldn’t see a way out of it – telling him her feelings and opening herself up to possible rejection was not something she could bring herself to do. He’d turned down a supermodel as stunning as Ingrid, for God’s sake, he was hardly likely to settle for a dowdy little frump like her!

As Ingrid dressed in sexy underwear and an elegant black dress, Amanda looked at the clothes she would be wearing today. There was definitely a red theme – another pair of outrageous shoes, 8 inch heels with 4 inch platforms this time, a masquerade-style mask with red sequins and feathers, and red silk opera gloves. There were also a piece of red ribbon and a couple of decorative bows, but she wasn’t sure what they were for. As she put on the shoes, gloves and mask, Janes came in to help. He tied the ribbon across her hips, then passed it between her legs, looped it over itself behind and brought it back between her legs, before tying it off in a pretty bow. It was like a crotch rope, except not so tight, and in fairly wide red silk, so that it – just – covered her labia and vagina. The decorative bows, she now realised, constituted the rest of her costume, as Janes peeled the cover off the adhesive patches and stuck one on each of her nipples.

“Oh my,” Ingrid murmured as she came over to the younger woman, “you look like my dream Christmas present!” She traced a line across Amanda’s breast with her perfectly manicured and polished nail, sending shivers up her spine. She circled around the covered nipple, while Amanda’s eyes closed and her lips parted, quickly becoming aroused by the German’s feather-light touch.

The spell was broken as Janes roughly pulled her arms behind her back and bound them, wrist to elbow across the small of her back.

“This will look perfect,” Ingrid said, as she applied a blood red liquid gloss to Amanda’s lips. As soon as she was finished, Janes again spoiled the moment between the two women, by making Amanda part her lips so that he could fill her mouth with an equally bright red ballgag.

“Oh, I wish I could come with you two,” Ingrid said regretfully, “but I have a photo-shoot in Hamburg later. Goodbye, darling, perhaps we can get together again sometime. Victor, until the next time.” She gave Janes a peck on the check and swept imperiously out of the suite, leaving Amanda with a strangely empty feeling, as if a light had gone out of her life. The feeling was soon swept away as Janes led her out of the hotel and into the exhibition centre.

Her appearance in bondage and not much else caused as much of a commotion as it had done the previous day, and by the time she reached the sanctuary of Dieter's demonstration stand, she had already lost the bows hiding her nipples. To her dismay, Janes took the end of the ribbon and pulled. The bow unravelled and, with a quick readjustment, he tugged the ribbon off her and threw it into the crowd, leaving her naked. As a cheer went up, Amanda blushed furiously and tried to cross her legs to hide her nudity, but it was futile.

“Good afternoon, Fraulein Charlotte,” Dieter said enthusiastically as he came over, “I see you are already prepared for the day. I cannot wait to try out my latest design on you.”

Janes and the German inventor dragged a low perspex table into the middle of the demonstration area, where a circular turntable was built into the small stage. Dieter’s table was beautifully crafted, the clear material about an inch thick with smoothly rounded edges, a slight hourglass curvature to the top, and two six-inch diameter holes towards one end. Clear plastic straps lying loosely along the right side of the table gave some indication to Amanda that she was to be bound to that table, and then, most likely, tortured in some way. The woman looked at the smoothly rounded contours of the two holes and knew which two parts of her body would soon be hanging through those holes. She felt nervous, frightened, and excited in equal measures. While Dieter spoke to the crowd of eager spectators and prospective customers, giving his sales pitch and showing off the features of his bondage frame, Janes picked up a jar of lubricant and coated an area around the base of Amanda's breasts. Turning her so that she faced the gathered throng, she yelped when she felt his gooey fingers touch her arse. "Bend forward slightly and spread your legs," Janes ordered. Amanda's face reddened as she saw that many of the people in front of the demonstration stage were watching her, not the presentation. Still, Janes had given her an instruction, and by the firm tone of his voice and the hand pressing against her shoulder, she knew she must comply – she wanted to comply. She leaned forward and closed her eyes as Janes' lubed fingers coated the flesh around her anus and then pressed gently inward. She felt a wave of arousal pass through her at the realisation that Janes was using her, controlling her, dominating her. Okay, it might only be for the purposes of the demonstration, and to satisfy the contract between them, but she could pretend he was the master, she the slave. Janes released Amanda's arms and led his client over to the table just as Dieter seemed to be wrapping up his introduction. The practical demonstration was about to begin, and more curious people came to crowd around the little stage to observe. Amanda was guided to her knees and then instructed to lean forward and lay fully on the top of Dieter's creation. As she lay flat, her breasts pressed uncomfortably against the holes meant to trap them and she thought for a moment that the holes were too small to accommodate her. She was just beginning to think that it was a shame that the holes had been cut too small, and that this might just ruin the demonstration when, to her surprise, both of her breasts popped through the holes and hung freely below. The tightness of the perspex around her breasts was instantly felt, and Amanda realised that the holes were cut small for just that reason. She looked through the clear table top to see her tits bulging beneath her, and turning a rosy red colour. Rosy red... it made Amanda think of the rose Ingrid had brought for her with breakfast earlier. She felt saliva oozing out from the corners of her mouth around the ball gag and quickly lifted her head and swallowed. Breakfast! Other than honey and pussy, Amanda had not eaten! As if on cue, her stomach grumbled. The feeling of something being brought across her waist jolted Amanda out of her daydream. She looked back and saw that Janes was pulling one of the clear plastic straps across her waist and threading it through a slim rectangular slot on the opposite side of the table. Once fastened, the strap held her firmly in place. Still imparting some information in German into his headset microphone, Dieter helped Janes loop the remaining clear plastic straps across Amanda's arms, and then held her calves against her thighs while Janes pulled straps around each bent leg. Dieter stood and said something to her, and Amanda saw every head turn her way. Janes nudged her bent leg with his shoe and said, "Struggle, Charlotte, try to get free." He nudged her again, a little harder this time. Amanda began to pull against the sturdy plastic straps, but felt no give whatsoever. It was then that she realised just how helpless she really was. She felt her breasts swaying below her and then heard applause from the crowd of people in front of her.

Dieter approached her, and she saw the flogger in his hand, then felt its tails as he lashed it across her back and buttocks. He aimed a couple of blows underneath against her breasts, then two or three between her legs and onto her pussy, making her scream into the ballgag. But the thrashing was over almost as soon as it started, and Dieter moved away, putting the flogger back on the rack, before returning empty-handed. Amanda realised that he was just demonstrating that, while the way the frame held her was perfect for delivering a flogging, this was not to be the main highlight of the demonstration. She wondered, with some trepidation, exactly what that highlight might be.

She saw Janes bend down beside her, and saw the clamps in his hand. She steeled herself as they were applied to her nipples, grimacing against the pain. Dieter came over and passed him a perspex box, filled with clear plastic balls, which looked like Christmas baubles to be hung on a tree, but moments later Amanda felt the tug on her nipples as the weights were added to the lines hanging from the clamps. She started to moan as they tugged down on the clamps, making them bite harder into her. More and more were added, until it felt like her breasts were being stretched all the way down to the floor. Janes disappeared from her view, and moments later she let out a startled squeal, as she felt clamps biting into the soft flesh of her labia. Once again, the pain intensified as he strung the weighted balls onto the clamps, and Amanda’s moans became almost constant.

Janes moved away, and Dieter returned. He removed the ballgag, replacing it with a spider gag, its ‘feet’ pressing against her cheeks, chin and jawline. The gag extended some way into her mouth, the tube tapering a little, further in. Meanwhile, Amanda could feel Janes behind her, pushing something similar into her vagina. This was uncomfortable, but she really began to vocalise her distress when she felt him forcing another of the tapered tubes into her anus. All her orifices were now gaping wide, and ready to receive. Surely they weren’t going to fuck her, right here on the stand?

Dieter brought out a new object, a perspex tower about three feet tall, with some kind of mechanism visible inside it. What was obvious was the perspex rod sticking out of it, with a clear silicone dildo on the end. He put it down in front of Amanda, and attached two of the tripod legs to the legs of the table, the third leg sticking out in front to provide stability. The inventor adjusted the rod, bringing it forward and guiding the dildo through the tube attachment of the spider gag and into her mouth. He pressed it forward until he could see her eyes bulge and her face redden, as she choked on it, unable to breathe. He tightened a screw, then pulled the rod back until the dildo was only just in Amanda’s mouth, while she was coughing, retching, and gasping for breath.

Now the German went behind his human guinea pig, and positioned a second tower, this one with two dildos, which he calibrated in the same way as the oral invader, ensuring that at the furthest point of travel, Amanda was penetrated in vagina and rectum as deep as possible.

“Alles ist bereit, Herr Janes,” he said, with an eagerness in his voice Amanda didn’t share. Janes stood in front of her with a remote in his hand and a smile on his face. Amanda broke out in a sweat as he spoke to the crowd in German, and then hit the switch.

The crowd watched, enraptured, as the pistons slowly drove the dildos into the naked, masked blonde strapped to the semi-transparent frame. Each time the dildo pushed into her mouth, she sounded like she was going to die, choking and gagging, and as it withdrew, she sounded even worse, coughing and retching. She was soon bright red in the face, sweating, and crying uncontrollably.

Janes was able to control the three shafts independently from the remote, and he used it to reduce the travel on the oral dildo considerably, on the anal dildo slightly, and to make the vaginal dildo drive in even deeper. He then increased the speed, so that the phalluses gradually drove into her harder and faster.

For Amanda, the effect was to change the feeling that she was about to choke to death, to one of only deep discomfort and pain, as her arse was reamed so violently that it almost completely counteracted the arousing effect of the penetration in her cunt. The mechanical fucking seemed to go on interminably, with no prospect of a satisfying conclusion.

But there was one more feature of the design to be illustrated. Janes slowed the pistons, while Dieter stepped in to make a final adjustment. He fixed a new attachment to the frame between Amanda’s thighs, then tied the strings from the clamps on her pussy lips to it, spreading them wide and leaving her sex exposed and vulnerable. He fitted the wand vibrator into its slot, adjusted it so that it was pressed hard against her clitoris, and stepped back. Pressing a small button on the floor with his foot, Dieter began the motor that rotated the turntable that his bondage frame, and their bondage victim, sat upon. The crowd responded to the impressive display with enthusiastic applause. Janes increased the penetration depths and speeds on the three dildos, and then stood back to watch. The effect on Amanda was instantaneous and electric. Everyone in the vicinity, and many people across the hall, heard her desperate cries, alternately stifled and then released by the silicone cock in her throat, as the infernal combination of clitoral stimulation, vaginal penetration, and anal rape quickly drove her to an orgasm screamed out to the crowd. There was no let up either, the machines relentlessly pumping her towards yet another climax. Janes watched her genuine, and desperate, attempts to free herself, tugging at the straps holding her in place, as the tears streamed down her cheeks. He was trying to judge when she had had enough and should be released. He had already seen her capacity for pain, and knew of her desire to be punished, but this time she really seemed to be suffering.

He considered halting the mechanical penetrations, but stopped himself as he saw Amanda looking directly at him, her eyes pleading for release. He decided that to release her now would ease her immediate discomfort, but would not bring her the feeling of being truly dominated that she so craved, whether she truly understood that or not. This was the need that she had paid him so handsomely to satisfy. This was delivering the anonymous humiliation she sought, the humiliation that brought arousal to her.

Janes felt he knew Amanda better than she knew herself. The tears, the pleading eyes, all revealing her unspoken desire to be utterly dominated. It had been a long time since Janes had owned a slave, since he had learned just what was required on the part of the Master to truly satisfy the needs of the slave. Now, he looked at the bound woman before him and felt the desires – to own her, to possess her – returning. This woman, Amanda Beale – he had known who she was since their first meeting, it was his business – could be the one to fill the void within him, the void left by slave jasmina.

He had to see just how much Amanda could take. It was not for her benefit that he reached up and removed the flogger from the rack; it was for his own. The sounds of the crowd barely filtered through his mind as he seemed to be alone on the stage with his sub, his slave, his woman. His arm came down in a practiced swing, the technique of a good lash forever in his memory.

The sound of the leather tails striking her sweat-soaked back was sweetness to his ears. The heavy flogger came down again, hard, eliciting a tortured scream from his beautiful sub. She was perfect, her reactions, her cries as his tool crashed down upon her flesh over and over. He marvelled at the torture this wonderful creature was absorbing, as the three dildos continued to assault her, bringing her closer to what she sought.

Yes, he could see it now in her eyes as the turntable rotated her to face him again. The arousal her torment was bringing her was evident in her half-closed eyes. Her body seemed relaxed, straining against her bonds no longer a concern to the woman, as her ‘real’ orgasms approached. Janes knew that what Amanda would soon be experiencing would be more intense than anything she could ever have imagined.

As the length of her body was presented to him, Janes knew he must help her over the edge, to reach the level of orgasm a truly submissive woman like her could only achieve while helplessly bound and receiving extreme punishment. His arm came down again, lashing Amanda’s buttocks, and then again across her bound legs¸ causing her body to react to the impact.

Sounds from the audience filtered through briefly, as they gasped at the severity of the abuse they were seeing on the stage. Certainly, nothing so violent had ever been demonstrated at one of these fetish fairs in the past. Dieter was busily handing out order forms, as his friend seemed to be getting into some sort of rhythm with this remarkable woman he had brought with him. He was a little concerned at the intensity of the beating he was giving her, but he assumed Janes knew what he was doing.

Amanda’s orgasms rolled through her body now, one cascading into another as the punishment seemed to become ever more extreme. She must have really angered Janes for him to treat her like this, but she could not work out what it might be. Maybe the sight of her and the supermodel together had aroused some latent jealousy – perhaps he really did want Ingrid, and he felt that she had succeeded where he could not, and now she deserved the awful flogging he was meting out. Her thoughts were interrupted by another spasm that built in intensity until no thoughts could compete with the terrible pain and intense pleasure filling her mind. She felt a strange serenity, as the darkness seemed to close in around her.

When Amanda regained consciousness, she was lying on the floor in the cupboard at the back of the stand. Every inch of her body hurt, and it felt as though the vicious brute of a machine was still violating her, as her throat, pussy and arse throbbed and ached. For the first time, she felt things had gone too far – she had suffered more than she had thought she could possibly take, and more than she had signed up for.

But that was not what she was thinking about. All she could see in her mind’s eye was the look on Janes’ face as he had thrashed her – it had been a bewildering mixture of lust, intense concentration, and something she interpreted as fear – maybe fear of just how far over the line he had strayed, maybe at how out of control he had become. If Dieter hadn’t stepped in and dragged him away, she didn’t know how far he would have gone. For the first time, he had scared her – really scared her. She had always felt safe with him before, an island of calm and reason in the madness she requested and he delivered. Now, she knew just how dangerous he could be. And yet, and yet… she had never felt more alive than in that brief time, when she had been completely in his power, suffering to please Him…

She rested in the quiet area for the next couple of hours. Dieter came in to check on her, and gave her food and drink. He also rubbed a salve into the welts over her back.

“Where is he?” Amanda croaked, her throat sore from the ill treatment it had suffered.

“Herr Janes has gone,” Dieter replied, “He told me to let you rest, and to give you this.” He handed her a bag, in which she found a set of normal street clothes, and the envelope containing her passport, credit card and air ticket.

“I can get you a taxi to the airport when you are ready. I’m very sorry, Fraulein Burton, and I apologise for my part in these events.” Amanda smiled wanly at him, and he went back to his eager customers.

The journey back to England was a quiet and lonely one. Amanda knew she had some serious thinking to do, but for now, she just wanted her bed, sleep, and for the pain to stop. She realised that the scars she had suffered were not all physical…

End of part 5

Copyright© 2012 by Jennifer Harrison. All rights reserved.