Puppet on a Rope
by Jennifer Harrison
Part 8 - Games
"How would you like to play a game, Sir?"
"I'd love to, as long as it involves my slaves!"
"Oh yes, it definitely involves them!"
While this conversation was going on, Bethany and I were on the poolside terrace, wrist manacles tied to the trellis above us, ankles wide apart, strapped into spreader bars. It was late afternoon on the second day of our journey into hell. So far that day, we had been rudely awoken by Angelo, who had fucked both of us on the floor of the barn, then made to work in the fields under the blazing sun until early afternoon, when we had returned to the villa to wait on Master and Mistress, serving their lunch as we watched hungrily, not having eaten since the previous evening.
The afternoon had been pretty light, our duties involving applying suntan oil to the doms, as well as keeping them supplied with drinks and snacks as they lay by the pool, sunning themselves. There had been a break in the routine about mid-afternoon, when Bethany had given Master a blowjob while I licked Mistress to orgasm. Mistress had tied us up a little later and now, here we were, waiting to find out what would be happening next. We could already see, on the small table, that she had laid out some items for the game - a crop, a cane, a flogger, a bullwhip, and a bunch of other things I couldn't quite see.
"Okay, this game is called ‘tit-for-tat’," Mistress began, "we start off by subjecting one of the slaves to some mild form of punishment. This will continue until she names a punishment to be given to the other, which we deem to be more harsh than the punishment she is currently receiving. We bet on them, and the loser is one whose slave can't think of a punishment or refuses to name a punishment to be applied to the other. What you think?"
"It sounds very entertaining, Maria," Master replied enthusiastically, "so how do we decide whether we start with Kelly or Bethany?"
"We can toss a coin," Mistress responded, "but please don't call them by their names, Sir, it will only give them ideas above their station. I would advise either just calling them both ‘slave’ and pointing to the one you mean, or we can give them new, slave names. How about ‘cunt’ and ‘slut’?"
"I think those names suit them well," Master laughed, "so, heads we start with cunt" - he pointed to me - "tails we start with slut" - pointing to Bethany.
"Very good, Sir," Mistress smiled, "so, which one do you want to bet on, and what is the wager?"
"Hmm, I think I will take slut," Master said. What?! He was rejecting me, his first slave, for this latecomer?! I’d show him! What I was going to show him, and how I was going to show it, I had no clear idea - maybe I was getting a little sunstroke.
"And, as for the bet," he went on, "if slut wins, you have to satisfy me, sexually, in whatever way I demand. If cunt wins, I will do the same for you. You game?"
"Absolutely, Sir," Mistress responded eagerly, before picking up a coin and tossing it.
"Heads, we start with cunt!" she squealed excitedly, "as I'm betting on her, why don't you carry out the punishment, and I'll do it when its slut’s turn?" I watched as Master got up and went to the table, rather surprisingly selecting a vibrator. What kind of punishment tool was that, I wondered. I was about to find out!
"Now, cunt, I'm going to put this in you on full power," he said, holding the vibrator up in front of my face and turning it on, "you have to think of a worse punishment for slut. However, if you let it fall out of your wet hole, or you cum before you have passed on the punishment, you will receive a penalty of five strokes of the bullwhip, and it will still be your go. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master," I replied nervously. Seconds later, I felt the buzzing monster being eased up into my surprisingly well-lubricated pussy, until it was in as far as it would go. He resumed his place on his sun lounger alongside Mistress, and they watched intently to see what would happen.
I lost myself in enjoyment for a while, revelling in the sensation of the vibrations deep inside me, turning me on, making me squirm and writhe in my bondage. I suddenly came back to reality when I felt the smooth-sided plastic being pulled out of me by its own weight and the slickness of my vagina. Oh shit, I had to think of something, and quick!
"Put this in her!" I said quickly, certainly not wanting to make Bethany suffer.
"Don't be stupid, cunt!" Mistress sneered, "that's exactly the same as what is happening to you! You have to think of something worse!"
I was starting to lose the ability to focus, to concentrate, and I knew I had to hurry.
"Stick it up her ass!" I cried out in desperation, realising I had left it too late and was now having to fight against reaching a climax.
"What do you think, Sir?" Mistress asked casually, as if she had all the time in the world, "you think that's good enough?"
"I think that will do," he responded, and Mistress got up and came over to me, pulling the vibrator out of my body. I slumped, my head bowed, relieved and distraught at the same time, feeling terribly empty. A slight squeal from beside me made me turn my head and I saw the vibrator disappearing into Bethany's rectum. By the way she was squirming around and screwing up her face, it didn't look like she was enjoying it much. As I waited, I realised what a sick game this was – I was about to be subjected to some kind of torment proposed by my best friend! I was really starting to hate Mistress, although I had to admit that she was good at this…
"Use the cane… on her breasts… gently…" Bethany groaned. Already? Jeez, that was quick! Mind you, I thought, I suppose her punishment for me wasn't that bad…
Mistress took the vibrator out of Bethany's rear end while Master picked up the cane and approached me. He began tapping my breasts with it, sharply, causing a quick shot of pain each time, pain which was doubled whenever he caught the end of my erect nipples just so, which was frequently. I thought I could take this but, surprisingly quickly, I was fighting to get out of the way and crying out as each blow landed.
"Hit her! Hit her!" I squealed, "cane her arse! Please, Master!" My caning stopped and Mistress stepped up. Moments later, I could hear Bethany crying out in obvious pain as the rattan stick whipped down across her cheeks, the German dominatrix showing no mercy. I knew it wouldn't be long before my friend cracked and passed the torment back to me.
"Use the flogger!" Bethany shouted in desperation, "flog her back!"
Just as Mistress had planned, the torture was escalating quickly while, at the same time, tormenting me, and I'm sure Bethany, with guilt that we were the cause of such vile treatment of someone so close. The doms, meanwhile, were having a great time, laughing and joking at our expense - it just confirmed to me how cruel they really were.
We quickly moved through using the flogger and then the crop on various parts of each other's bodies, with the violence of each stroke increasing, and the level of pain across my body accumulating until it was virtually unbearable to be touched, never mind hit. At last, Bethany was forced to take what felt like the nuclear option.
"Use the whip!" she screamed, "Whip her back!" I watched with mounting horror as Master picked up the evil-looking whip, it's long tail of plaited leather trailing across the floor as he approached me, and gave it a practice swing through the air. Snap! The crack of the whip made me scream, the thought of it hitting me filling me with terror.
"Please, Master! I can't take it!" I shouted.
"It sounds like your slave is quitting," he said to Mistress in a triumphalist tone.
"Oh no she's not!" Mistress barked, "you will take at least one lash of the whip, cunt, and pass the punishment on!" I looked at her in desperation, trying to convey to her that I really couldn't take anymore, but there was no sympathy to be had there, her face was set in stone as she indicated to Master that he should continue.
The whip cracked, and my back exploded in agony. My screams rent the air, and I'm sure they could be heard from miles away. It felt like there was a line of fire from my left shoulder blade to my right hip. The pain seemed to overwhelm my brain, and all I could focus on was my back and trying to catch my breath, trying to come to terms with the terrible trauma. And then it happened again! Another line seared across my skin, making me feel like it had been opened up, split asunder.
"No! No more! I surrender!" I gasped, hanging limply from my bonds.
"Pass it on, cunt!" Mistress shouted at me, "make the slut suffer, like you! Worse than you!"
"No, Mistress, I can't!" I sobbed, "I can't make Bethany suffer this! I give in!"
"Game over," Master said, putting the whip down, "I'm afraid you lose, Maria. I seem to remember that the loser is to provide the winner with whatever sexual services they require?" The two doms moved together and embraced in front of me, kissing passionately. I shouldn't have been surprised that they showed no further interest in Bethany and me, but I was dismayed by their callous disinterest. They went inside arm in arm, eager to enjoy each other, leaving us suspended in the early evening sun, trying to cope with our distress and discomfort.
A few minutes later, Isabella emerged from the villa and released us, handing me a tub of lotion and advising me to use it on the wounds. Bethany and I applied the soothing cream to each other's welts and cuts. With no other commands and, seemingly, no-one interested in us, we went back to the barn and lay there, trying to console each other as we moaned about the unfairness and cruelty of our treatment. Eventually, we were given food and then locked away until the next day when, we knew, our torment would resume.
Another day, another cruel game devised by our sadistic Mistress. This time, we were made to lie on our stomachs, on the tiles beside the pool, elbows and wrists fastened behind us, ankles pulled up into a tight hogtie.
"This is a straight race," she explained, "all you have to do is get around the pool and back here with your baton." She pushed a stick, cut from a tree branch, between my teeth, giving Bethany something similar - these were the batons, apparently. "The winner gets to watch the loser being punished."
"Are we going to have the same side bet as yesterday?" Master asked with a smile, which was returned by the tall dominatrix.
"Why certainly, Sir," she replied, "but I warn you, I expect to win this time, and you will be eating some prime German pussy later! I'll take the slut as my runner today." That was rather unkind - I had been snubbed for selection on both occasions now! Mind you, I thought, that really is the least of my problems…
Mistress counted us down and fired an imaginary starter's pistol to get us going, and I began to try to shuffle across the hot tiles and move around the pool. Bethany seemed to get the hang of it much quicker and, after a couple of minutes, began to pull clear of me. Moments later, I felt the painful sting of a crop slap down hard across my buttocks.
"Come on, cunt!" Master urged, "get on with it! Catch her up!" I worked to crawl on my shoulders and knees, trying to ignore the scraping on my breasts and thighs, soon bathed in sweat from my strenuous efforts. By the time we reached the end of the pool and made the turn, I was neck and neck with Bethany, who was now being cropped by Mistress.
But as we turned the corner, I realised I was on the outside, and I lost half a length by the time we were going straight again. Despite the ‘encouragement’ I was receiving, I wasn't able to make up the ground and, on the next turn, I found myself behind Bethany, following her, staring between her spread thighs at her glistening pussy.
The far side of the pool led to a grassy bank with a number of flowerbeds, and the only space between the raised edge of the pool surround and the steeply sloping garden was a strip of gravel, along which we now had to squirm. Bethany crawled onto it first, and I could hear her squeals and cries of pain. When I went onto the gravel, I could understand why, as the sharp stones dug into the soft flesh of my breasts, stomach and thighs.
Master was beating me quite persistently by now, and I bit down hard on the stick between my teeth, forcing myself to ignore the scratches and go faster, gradually starting to gain. I heard a sharp cry from my friend next to me, and she stopped moving forward. As I came alongside her, I glanced across to see that she had lost the stick from her mouth, presumably when she cried out, and was now desperately trying to pick it up again. I made the most of my opportunity, crawling past her and moving in to the side close to the pool.
Bethany had regained her ‘baton’ and was crawling after me as fast as she could, but now she had the same problem as I had found - if she tried to overtake me, she would have to go a lot further around the outside.
At last, I made it to the end of the pool and got off the gravel, back on to the tiles, with only the short side to go. Bethany increased her pace, gaining on me alarmingly but, with burning lungs and aching body, I managed to hang on to my lead until I had crossed the finish line.
Both of us lay there, panting for breath, sweat dripping from our beetroot faces, whilst Master crowed about winning again, and Mistress accepted her defeat with bad grace. I looked over at Bethany and I could see the deep scratches and bloody marks on her tanned skin, knowing that I would be similarly marked.
"You let me down, slut!" Mistress growled at the distressed girl, "now I will take great pleasure in delivering your punishment." She released Bethany's hogtie and then dragged her away, into the villa, ignoring her pleas for mercy.
"Meanwhile, you can have your reward, cunt," Master said as he released me from my bondage – the ropes holding me hogtied and binding my arms behind my back, leaving me in my manacles and chains.
By the time I had worked the stiffness and ache out of my shoulders, I turned to see that Master had stretched out on the sun lounger, and had removed his speedo, leaving his intentions very obvious. I knew what I had to do – and, to be honest, had no difficulties with it, in fact in this instance, I was eager to obey!
I knelt beside the lounger and bent over him, using my mouth to encourage him from semi-erect to full tumescence. Once I had achieved that happy outcome, I climbed on board, straddling him and gradually lowering myself until he completely filled me, making me shiver, despite the hot afternoon sun. I began to move on him, slowly rocking backwards and forwards, revelling in the sensations this caused, making me pant and moan in response to my growing arousal.
I kept this up as long as I could, resisting the urge to bring us both to orgasm as quickly as possible, teasing myself to complete distraction. I looked down and, for a moment, thought that he had actually fallen asleep, but then he reached up and grasped my breasts in his large hands, squeezing and groping them deliciously. Gradually, I became more and more sweaty, my thighs sliding over his hips and groin as if I were greased.
Eventually I couldn't hold back any longer and, with increasingly urgent and loud wails and cries, I bucked harder and faster, bouncing up and down on his rock-hard erection, the sound of our bodies slapping together beating out the insistent rhythm of our coupling. At last, I felt his hot seed spurt within me and I came to a beautiful climax, the sensations coursing through my body, energising me as my back arched and my face turned to the sky, emitting an animalistic cry which became almost a howl.
As I came down off my incredible high, I felt exhaustion sweep through me. I managed to stop myself collapsing across Master and wearily dismounted him, sinking to my knees on the tiles and slumping forward, trying to still my racing heart and control my panting breath. In all this time, Master had made virtually no noise - no cries of ecstasy, no words of gratitude expressing his pleasure, not even a grunt.
"Get me a Coke, cunt," he said as he lazily pulled on his speedo, "and get yourself some water." Although I felt slightly offended by his dismissive treatment of me, I was still smiling in the wonderful afterglow as I skipped inside and fetched him a cold drink. This slave life was hard and demeaning, but there were a few compensations!
I had been kneeling quietly at Master’s side for a while when Mistress and Bethany finally reappeared. At least, I assumed it was Bethany. It was actually impossible to tell as the figure being led by Mistress was completely encased in black rubber, from head to foot. It was possible to see that it was a woman by the hips and breasts, but there was no way of identifying who it might be.
The skin-tight rubber had a dull shine to it, and looked quite thick, like a wetsuit rather than latex. Her head was covered by a tight-fitting hood with no visible openings other than two small holes under her nostrils. Her eyes and mouth were hidden under stiff panels strapped tight around her head, clearly allowing no light to her eyes nor air to her lungs. Her breasts seemed very large, framed as they were by the cargo straps which crisscrossed her chest and stomach, pinning her arms tight behind her back. Her hands were trapped inside small bags which forced her fingers to ball into fists, and were bound together by more black webbing straps. She wore black ballet boots, similar to those I had worn at the art exhibition, making her walk with tiny steps, placing one foot in front of the other, making her hips sway sensuously. She was led by a chain locked around her neck.
What a magnificent sight!
Mistress led her to the middle of the terrace and then made her kneel down, facing us. She used more cargo straps to pin her thighs to her calves, forcing her pointed feet beneath her buttocks. The slave sat quietly, her chest rising and falling slowly, the only sound that of air being sucked in through her nostrils. I found it difficult to visualise my best friend under the smooth, featureless rubber. She looked like nothing more than some kind of kinky mannequin.
"Your slave, Sir," Mistress announced with a flourish, "her punishment for failing us - well, me specifically - is to spend the rest of the day imprisoned in her own little world. I've plugged her ears so that she can't hear, she can't see, she can't speak, she can't feel the outside world - except for this." She handed a remote control to Master with a smile. "I hope she might provide you with some entertainment while she suffers."
"As for you, cunt," she barked, turning to me, "your job is to keep her from overheating. If she faints in there, you'll be the one being punished." Panicked, I scuttled over to the rubber-clad figure and placed my hands on her head.
I was alarmed to find that, even though she'd only been outside for a matter of minutes, she was already hot to the touch, and I could only imagine how awful it must have been to be inside that suit, sweating from every pore but getting no relief. I looked around urgently for some kind of container, and saw the ice bucket on the table. I grabbed it and dashed to the swimming pool, scooping up a bucketful of water and running back to Bethany, pouring it over her head and watching it run across the surface of the rubber like mercury. I repeated the exercise half a dozen times before I felt that she had reached a more normal temperature.
Meanwhile, Master had been examining the remote, and now pressed a button and turned a dial on it. I saw Bethany jerk, her back arching slightly, her legs trying to straighten but being prevented from doing so by the straps holding them. A faint mewing sound could be heard coming from her, and she continued to move, though only slightly, as dictated by the straps around her body. I saw her convulsively moving her thighs, parting them, then bring them together, trying to get some relief from whatever was irritating her. And then I heard it, the faint buzzing from within the rubber suit, and I realised that there was a vibrator in there, controlled by the remote held by Master.
She continued to struggle and squirm, the movements only tiny, whilst the desperate mewing sounds managed to escape the panel gag, but only just. Realising this would just overheat her further, I ran back and forth between her and the pool, dousing her with several more buckets of cool water.
"I wonder what this button does?" Master mused, pressing and holding it down. Bethany's struggles suddenly took on a new urgency, and the sounds coming from her were clearly screams rather than moans. She thrashed so much from side to side that she lost her balance and crashed over onto her side, continuing to writhe and squirm on the ground, twisting from being on her back onto her side, and then onto her front, like some tormented snake or worm. Master and Mistress, watching with detached interest, laughed at her distress.
After about a quarter of an hour, the doms seemed to lose interest and jumped in the pool for a swim and some horseplay which you wouldn't get away with at the local pool. I kept watering Bethany, but they had left the vibrator running, and she continued to writhe around in either agony or ecstasy, I couldn't tell which, making her pathetic gagged noises. When I felt they weren't watching, I tried to comfort her by putting my arms around her, but I don't know if she could even feel me through the impenetrable rubber. In the end, I just sat close by, keeping her head in the shade of my body in the hope that she wouldn’t lose her mind during this hideous ordeal.
About an hour had passed and Master and Mistress were lying out, sunning themselves, when I began to get very worried about her fluid intake. I had been drinking lots of water and I still felt thirsty and dehydrated, so she had to be in a terrible state by that point, having sweated far more than me.
"Please, Mistress," I said tentatively, kneeling beside her, "may I remove her gag and give her a drink of water. Please?" She roused herself from her doze and looked at me sourly.
"No, cunt, you may not," she spat, then looked it the prone black figure, which was hardly moving, "however… you can open the valve at the front of her gag and squirt water through the hole. Now go away, and don’t disturb me again!"
"Thank you, Mistress!" I replied, genuinely grateful that she had shown something that could be interpreted as concern, possibly even mercy.
I went over to Bethany and found the small round opening at the front of the panel covering most of the lower half of her face. I twisted it anticlockwise and, to my relief, heard her suck in a breath through the hole. I dashed inside and found a squirt bottle with a built-in plastic straw and raced back out to my friend. I pushed the end of the straw over the tiny connecting tube and squeezed the bottle, watching as water moved down the plastic straw and disappeared into the black hood.
I squeezed the bottle of couple of times, and then I could feel the water being sucked down the tube. Tiny whimpering noises came from the hood, possibly of a desperate need finally being satisfied. Pretty soon I had to disconnect the bottle to allow some air into it, and I could hear inarticulate cries coming from the hole, so I quickly reattached it. She managed to empty the bottle but, as I got up to refill it, I saw Mistress looking daggers at me and, reluctantly, I closed the valve again, cutting off Bethany's whines of protest, confining her once again to her isolation.
I spent the next few hours cooling and watering her, in between fetching drinks and snacks for the doms, and applying suntan oil. Eventually, they decided they would go inside, to shower and dress before dinner but they started to leave without doing anything about Bethany.
"Mistress!" I said as she walked past my kneeling figure, "may I release Bethany?" She stopped in front of me and slapped me hard across the cheek.
"Don't speak unless spoken to, cunt!" she shouted, "I will decide when this useless slave is to be released! Take her to the barn, I may release her later!" With that, she turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving us alone. At least the vibrator had stopped, so Bethany was now quiet and, with the hot sun now setting, I decided to stay there a while, enjoying the late afternoon.
When I decided to make a move a couple of hours later, I realised that I couldn't carry Bethany to the barn, and I couldn't really drag her there either. So I decided to take a chance and unstrap her legs. She couldn't stand at first, let alone walk, as her legs had basically gone to sleep, so I massaged them back to life before helping her to her feet and, together, we staggered back to our night accommodation.
I didn't dare unfasten any more straps or remove any of the rubber, so Bethany must have been completely confused as to why I wasn’t helping her. She was making little whimpering noises, like she was pleading with me to release her, which just made me feel horribly guilty as I tried, ineffectually, to comfort and soothe her. In the end, we just sat there together in silence, waiting for Mistress to come. Despite the fact that Bethany would be freed, I wasn't looking forward to her arrival - the woman scared me silly!
I was right to be worried. When she arrived, the German dominatrix suspended me in the punishment position and, having explained that I was to be punished for speaking out of turn, she lashed me with the flogger ten times each, front and back.
I hung there for a long time, and Mistress had long since left, when Bethany came to help me down. She had been stripped out all the rubber and was back in her slave chains and collar, but she stank of stale sweat, and her skin was red and blotchy in many places, with the outline of where the straps had been fastened so tightly around her. The two of us crawled onto the dirty straw and held on to each other, sobbing as we thought about all we had suffered that day. Eventually, I fell into a troubled sleep, dreaming of even more horrible tortures than we were subjected to in the real world. I woke up full of foreboding about what the day might bring…
"This is called the seesaw horse. Angelo built it to my specifications. I hope you will enjoy it."
This was directed at Master, rather than Bethany and me. Although I didn't really understand what it was meant to do, I could see just by looking at it that we weren't going to enjoy it. No way!
The contraption consisted of a central wooden post about 3 feet high, with a crossbeam on top, three or maybe four feet long. The cross-section of the beam was an inverted V, looking like a steeply pitched roof, with a very sharp ridge. On this ridge were mounted four dildos, two on either side of the centre.
Mistress prepared me by restraining my arms in a box tie behind my back, wrist to opposite elbow, then fitting a ring gag into my mouth. She led me to one end of the device and, as I stood watching, tipped the crossbeam on the joint which connected to the upright post so that the end in front of me was lowered to about my knee height. She had me shuffle over the beam and then raised it, making sure that the two dildos were correctly seated and penetrating me front and back.
Bethany was similarly prepared and brought to the other end, facing me. Mistress pushed the beam down at her end, forcing me up onto my tiptoes and pushing the dildos all the way up inside me. Bethany shuffled on, and she was impaled on the large silicone intruders, returning the beam to its horizontal position and allowing me to put my feet flat on the ground.
But not for long. Mistress came round behind me and pulled on the chain between my ankles, dragging my feet off the floor and bending my legs back until she could hook the chain over the end of the beam. I let out a cry as my full weight drove me down onto the dildos and the sharp edge of the sawhorse drove into the sensitive flesh of my perineum and between my labia. She went to the other end and did the same to Bethany so that we were both precariously balanced on the evil contraption, both suffering severe discomfort. Every move we made to try and find a comfortable position not only failed, but caused the seesaw element of the device to kick in, throwing us both off balance and causing more pain, as the dildos drove in further and the wooden edge cut deeper.
Mistress wasn't finished with us. She attached a crocodile clip to my breast, from which hung a short chain ending in another clip. I thought she was going to attach this to my other nipple, but instead she pulled me forward and clipped it to Bethany's nipple opposite me. She used another chain to join the other breast, then produced a third chain. I assumed this was going to go on my clitoris, but I was wrong. She pulled my tongue through the ring gag and clipped it, fastening the other end to Bethany's tongue. We were now both leaning forwards towards the middle of the beam, held there by the short chains, forcing us to move our pussy lips further onto the cruel edge of the sawhorse and thus increasing our discomfort.
"Voila!" Mistress exclaimed with a proud flourish, "they're all set, Sir. The loser in this game is simply the one who cums first. Who's your money on?" I was struggling hard to cope with my predicament and somehow find a comfortable position, but every move made the beam wobble and pulled the chains tight, making the clamps bite excruciatingly into my nipples and tongue. I managed to glance over at Master and saw that he had come close to evaluate us, seeing who was coping better with the difficult situation.
"I'll take cunt today," he said and, perversely, I felt proud that he had selected me. Talk about Stockholm Syndrome!
"You will need this," Mistress said, handing him a remote, "that controls the dildos in the slut. Mine controls those in cunt. Let the game begin!"
Immediately, I let out a cry as I felt a sharp electric shock in my rectum. It made me jerk convulsively, straighten my back and lean backwards. The effect of this involuntary movement was to set the seesaw rocking violently, sending me down with a bump while Bethany shot up in the air. The chains pulled painfully and, when the beam reached the end of its seesaw travel, I cried out in pain as the dildo in my vagina was driven into me and my pussy was forced down sharply onto the wood. Almost instantly, the dildo burst into life, vibrating within me so hard that it felt like all my internal organs were shaking. Somehow, the combination of pain, pleasure, fear and confusion was making me respond, and I let out a loud moan of desperate arousal. I could feel my juices starting to run, lubricating the huge intruder inside me.
I heard Bethany let out a scream, and the seesaw rocked back, sending me up to the top of its travel so violently that I was thrown into the air - probably only an inch or so - before crashing back down, making me scream as the sharp wooden ridge was driven into my tender pussy. I realised that Master had retaliated by inflicting a similar punishment on my friend, and it was now a race to see who could shock and stimulate their slave to orgasm the quickest.
I don't know how long the ‘game’ went on, but I know that I was fighting to stop myself reaching a climax - I didn't want to suffer another of Mistress’ hideously inventive punishments. I'm sure Bethany was thinking the same, and we found ourselves fighting against each other, squirming and jerking on the evil contraption, involuntarily pulling on the chains joining us, inflicting pain on the one we least wanted to hurt. Once again, Mistress had devised a very cruel and unusual punishment.
As the vibrator continued to buzz away inside me at full power, I used the pain of the clamps, electric shocks and the cutting edge to counteract my growing arousal. But, gradually, the arousal began to overpower the pain, and I knew I was building towards a climax. And then an old joke popped into my head, the one with the punchline ‘I don't need to run faster than the bear, I just need to run faster than you!’ I didn't need to stop myself cumming, I just had to make sure that Bethany came before me!
I felt a pang of guilt at stitching my friend up like that, and that momentary hesitation was probably what cost me. She must have been having exactly the same thoughts but, possibly because she had suffered the previous time, she reacted before me, suddenly leaning forward as far as she could towards me, screwing up her face as she fought to cope with the pain she was bringing on herself by pressing her clitoris down into the sharp edge of the sawhorse. But she achieved her objective as the seesaw tipped violently my way, sending me crashing down to its lowest point.
I screamed in agony as the wedge was driven into my pussy and, momentarily, my arousal dimmed. But the effect of the seesaw was to throw me backwards, driving the anal plug up inside me and pressing the vibrator in my vagina hard against its front wall and, in particular, against the knot of super-sensitive nerve endings which made up my G spot. Almost immediately, my arousal was growing until it was unstoppable. I tried to get myself back onto the beam properly so that I could force it back to equilibrium, but it was hopeless, Bethany was almost on my side of the tipping point, leaving almost none of her weight for me to work against.
I climaxed noisily, my sweat-covered body convulsing uncontrollably as the orgasm swept through me. Vaguely, I could hear Bethany sobbing and trying to say ‘sorry’ with her tongue sticking out of the ring gag in her mouth. I knew what she meant, and I accepted her apology completely - one of us had to lose, and I knew it was my turn.
"I win!" I heard Mistress squealing, "that means that, not only do I get to have you lick me out, Sir, but I get to punish this cunt for losing as well! I think you should suffer the same as the slut did last time - an afternoon broiling in hot rubber!" Master did not look too happy at this outcome, but I didn't think it had anything to do with what I was going to be put through, or even having to pleasure Mistress - he just hated losing!
My day went from very bad to absolutely awful as I was cocooned in the rubber prison. It was even more awful than I had imagined whilst watching Bethany suffer this fate and, by the time I was eventually released that evening, I couldn't stand, all my muscles had turned to jelly, and I felt delirious. Something I hadn't expected was feeling physically sick after smelling and even tasting rubber all day. It certainly put me off diving as a holiday pastime!
As Bethany and I huddled together for another night, I realised that only a week of the ‘holiday’ had passed, and we still had an age to go which, somehow, we had to survive. I was seriously beginning to doubt whether we would make it…
End of part 8
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