Puppet on a Rope
by Jennifer Harrison

Part 9

Part 9 - Festival

The next couple of weeks went by in a blur of exhaustion, pain and pleasure. The exhaustion came from the punishing schedule we were forced to follow, being roused at shortly after dawn each day and spending the morning performing hard manual labour, either cleaning the villa, working in the garden, or slaving in the fields under the hot sun. This usually ended in time for us to serve Master and Mistress as they rose late and enjoyed a late breakfast or lunch.

The pain and pleasure came from the games which our inventive doms came up with to provide them with entertainment as they lazed around the pool. The seesaw horse got a number of outings, although not in quite the same way as the first time. Sometimes, the dildos were not switched on, and the aim of the game was to work oneself to orgasm by riding the horse. On others, the dildos were completely removed, and the object seemed to be merely to endure the pain of sitting on the sharp wooden beam for hour after hour. That was definitely not fun!

There were some scary games, such as the time we were each tightly bound and tossed onto lilos in the pool, with the instruction to race from one end to the other without falling in and drowning. I wondered, if either of us had toppled over and fallen in the water, whether either of them would have bothered to save us - I really wasn't sure!

An even more frightening occasion was when we were each wrapped in chains and, with a nose clip and breathing hose, tipped into the deep end, where we sank straight to the bottom. We then had to crawl to the shallow end, where Angelo fished us out and dumped us on the side to recover.

There were also games which were quite enjoyable, usually the ones involving sex. One day, Beth and I had to provide relief to Master and Angelo, the winner being the first one to get a mouthful of cum. This was followed by a similar game in which we raced to make Mistress and Isabella climax.

The most fun was when Bethany and I were strapped together, my arms to her legs and her arms to my legs, with a belt pinning our bodies together as well. I'm sure that, once you visualise us like that, you can work out the object of the game quite easily, but it took a surprisingly long time to determine a winner, as we both struggled to protect our crotches from the marauding tongue of our fellow slave. I'm afraid to say that I lost this one when my will to win was overcome by my desire to cum. Still, losing had its compensations!

It was when I lost that game that I found out something else. It had become obvious to both Bethany and me that Mistress had a thing for rubber, as she insisted on encasing one or both of us in it every day. She took such pleasure in helping us into it and in fondling us once we were fully dressed that, on occasion, it seemed like she might cum from the preparation alone.

Anyway, she took me inside to administer my ‘punishment’ and released me from my slave chains and collar. I could immediately see that what I was to wear was not the same rubber outfit I had worn before but something new. It had integrated feet, the arms ended more like a straitjacket than a wetsuit, and there was a hood attached to the back of the suit. When I picked it up, it was much heavier as well, indicating that it was much thicker than the original suit.

"You'll need to use this," Mistress said, handing me a large plastic bottle. I squeezed some of the contents into my hand and saw that it was a thick creamy lotion which smelled of coconut. I began to smooth it onto my legs but, unlike normal body lotion, it didn't soak into the skin, it just sat there, forming a slimy coating.

When I had put the cream on my legs all the way up to my hips, I wiped my hands clean, picked up the suit and began to work my legs into it. It was incredibly tight, and I had to pull very hard on the rubber to make any progress at all, and it was obvious that, without the lotion, I would have had no chance at all of putting it on. Eventually, I managed to get one foot fully in, and I found that the thick rubber was so stiff that it was impossible to wiggle my toes - I could hardly move my foot at all.

Having got my feet into place, I worked the suit up my legs, feeling it squeezing my calves and then my thighs almost painfully tight. I found it restricted me so much that I could hardly bend my knees, having to do so slowly and with considerable effort. By the time I had the suit around my waist, I was actually quite out of breath. I glanced over at Mistress, noticing that she had said nothing as I struggled, and saw that she was staring intently at me, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip, her nostrils flared. She was clearly intensely aroused by watching me and seeing the effect that the rubber was having on the look and shape of my body.

I put lotion all over my upper body, covering my breasts, then reached back to put my hands into the arm holes, shrugging myself into the suit like putting on a jacket. As my arms slid into the sleeves until my hands were in the pockets, the main body of the suit rose up until I felt it against my back all the way up to my neck, and the front of it closed until there was only a small gap between the two sides of the zip which ran from my navel to my neck. There was nothing I could do now - I realised that I couldn't even get out of the suit without help, even though it wasn't even fastened yet - and I looked towards Mistress. She walked over to me slowly, drinking in the view as she approached, before reaching out and pulling the main zip closed.

"You look good in rubber, cunt," she murmured hoarsely as she ran her hands over my body, feeling my buttocks, my breasts, my thighs, stomach, between my legs. As she did this, I felt virtually nothing of her touch, even though she was not being in any way gentle.

"So smooth," she whispered, "so… inhuman." She shook her head, as if having to make a physical effort to bring her mind back to the job, then reached behind my neck and pulled the hood up over my head.

Like the rest of the suit, the hood seemed too small for me, and it took a lot of effort to work it over the top of my head and into place. I realised that it didn't have any eye holes, and as it was pulled down over my eyes, I could feel thicker pads of rubber pressing down against my closed eyelids. There were no holes over the ears either and, as Mistress worked it into exactly the right place, I felt her pushing plugs deep into my ear canals, cutting off all sound. When she positioned the rubber over my nose, it turned out that the nostril holes were at the end of short rubber tubes which were pushed up inside my nose, flaring my nostrils and, while allowing me to breathe, they felt uncomfortable and very alien. I could feel the rubber squeezing down on my face everywhere except for a small, round hole over my mouth. I felt a zip being pulled around my neck, joining the hood to the rest of the body, sealing me inside.

To my surprise, instead of the imprisonment in the rubber continuing, I was lowered to the floor and made to lie on my back. I was confused until I felt something hot and wet pressed down on my mouth - Mistress, taking a last opportunity before I completely disappeared underneath the rubber, was now sitting on my face expecting me to use my tongue to satisfy the arousal which had been stoked by my transformation.

As I licked her enthusiastically, I couldn't see or hear anything, but I knew she was excited by the way I felt her body bucking against me. My task of bringing her to climax was made more urgent by the way her movements frequently pressed her soft flesh against the tubes in my nose, cutting off my air supply, though thankfully only temporarily.

It wasn't long before I knew she had cum by the sudden flush of juices into my mouth and over my lips. I drank her down greedily, licking her clean, knowing she expected nothing less. When she finally rolled off me, I gasped for air, feeling the tight rubber constricting me almost as effectively as a corset. It was actually as if my entire body was in a corset, being squeezed at every point and from every possible angle. I found it quite frightening - not only had my senses of sight and sound been removed, it seemed my sense of touch had also been reduced to almost nothing - but, somehow, it was also turning me on!

I was pulled to my feet again, and the process continued. I felt something pressing against my lips and opened my mouth, which was quickly filled by a cock-shaped phallus made of foul-tasting rubber. It pushed all the way in to the back of my throat, making me retch, and it stretched my lips wide apart, forcing my chin down against the resistance of the hood. As it was pressed against my face, I could feel that the panel to which the cock was attached covered the whole of my lower face, including my cheeks. It was held in place by multiple straps around my head and fastened behind.

As they were gradually pulled tighter, the gag panel seemed to melt into the rubber of the hood, forming an airtight and soundproof seal. I felt further straps being pulled under my chin, across my face and over my head, also fastened very tightly, and the way they seemed as though they kept pulling tighter made me think that they were rubber straps rather than leather. My whole head felt like it was in a vice, being gently but inexorably crushed. Once again, I felt fear and completely inappropriate excitement surging through me.

Suddenly, the monster in my mouth began to expand, forcing my jaws even further apart until the straps under my chin and over my head became painfully tight, and my tongue was flattened against the floor of my mouth, rendering me unable to move it even a millimetre. I screamed in panic and, although I heard the sound echoing in my head, I knew that almost no noise has actually escaped my body. I had never had my head bound so tightly, or my mouth gagged so effectively. It was so disorientating that I couldn't even think straight, my mind overwhelmed by terror.

My chin was lifted and I felt a posture collar being fitted and then adjusted to ensure that I had no ability to move my head up or down, or left and right. My right arm was twisted up behind my back and, when it was released, I could not pull it back down - the strap on the end of the sleeve had been buckled to the back of the collar. The same was done to my left arm, and I was now in the reverse prayer, a position so uncomfortable that I had not believed it could be achieved - until I had been forced into it, that is.

Straps were now placed around my body, pinning my folded arms against my back. The straps, placed above and below my breasts, were like those on the head harness, squeezing me tighter and tighter, making it even more difficult to fill my lungs. What had started out as rubber fetish was now becoming serious breath play!

I was dragged forward, presumably by a leash clipped to the posture collar, and almost immediately I felt the hot sun warming the black rubber which covered my body. I don't know whether there was any reaction when I emerged, cut off from the outside world as I was - as far as I was concerned, everything was silent, there was no breeze, I could feel nothing touching me except the burning heat of the afternoon. As I thought of my other senses, I realised that taste was overwhelmed by the revolting flavour of the dildo filling my mouth, and the short rubber tubes in my nostrils meant I could smell nothing but rubber. Rubber had become my entire world!

I was forced to bend forward until my upper body was horizontal, squeezing the air out of my lungs and leaving me desperately trying to suck enough oxygen in through my nose. My feet were kicked apart, and I felt the zip between my legs being opened, allowing me the brief sensation of the breeze on my pussy which, I was startled to realise, was dripping wet.

Something pressed between my buttocks and I screamed in pain as a huge butt plug was forced past the sphincter of my anus, sliding deep into my rectum until its progress became agonising. As I tried to cope with that, a dildo was also being thrust into my vagina, its ridged and bobbled surface causing me further anguish as it quickly filled me beyond the point of comfort, let alone arousal. The zip was pulled closed again and I was made to stand up straight, making the intruders shift within me and cause me even more pain.

Straps were now added around my thighs, knees, calves and ankles, pinning my legs together so tightly that I was struggling to try to balance without the ability to spread my feet. In fact I quickly lost the battle, and screamed desperately as I began to fall. But I was stopped by a sharp pull on the top of my head, and I realised that the head harness had been attached to something above me so that, as I lost my footing, I was left hanging by the harness. The strap under my chin was pulled tight, but the harness must have been attached to the posture collar in some way, because the load was spread. It was definitely not comfortable, but at least I wasn't going to be strangled, which was some relief.

But Mistress wasn't quite finished with me yet. To my astonishment and horror, I felt myself being lifted into the air by the head harness until my feet no longer touched the ground. I don't think I was raised very high, but I was left there, swinging and twisting lazily, like some kind of wind chime. Suddenly, the dildo in my pussy burst into life, vibrating and gyrating inside me, quickly driving me wild, even though I could immediately tell it wouldn’t be quite enough to make me cum. Now I was struggling and squirming in my impossibly tight bondage, which made me swing even more, from what I imagined to be a gibbet, like a hanged prisoner in the final throes of life!

I don't know how long I hung there, and I don't know what was going on around me, although I assume that Bethany must have doused me at some point because, although I was very hot and could feel my sweat trapped against my skin by the impermeable rubber in which I was cocooned, I didn't overheat and faint.

I was almost dozing, really only kept awake by the vibrator buzzing away inside me, feeling time drifting by, when my safe little world was shattered by a sudden sharp pain on my hip. This was quickly followed by another laceration across my breasts. I started to struggle wildly, trying to escape this new attack but, of course, all I managed to achieve was to set myself swinging from side to side. I felt another excruciating stripe of pain across my buttocks, and I realised that I must be being whipped - not the kind of flogging I had become familiar with, this was the terrifying bullwhip in use, it's heavy leather tail managing to hurt me even through the thick protective layer of rubber.

I screamed as the blows rained down, knowing there was nothing I could do to avoid the torture I was suffering. I was actually grateful for the rubber suit which, although it didn't prevent all the violence of the beating being transmitted through to my body, was protecting me from the worst of it, and was certainly stopping the cruel whip from covering my skin in cuts and bruises. It didn't make the experience any less traumatic, though.

The whipping seemed to be interminable - I'm sure Mistress and Master took it in turns to torment me - but eventually it did end, and I was left hanging there, like a fly waiting to be eaten by a spider. Hours went by, and I drifted in and out of consciousness, strange thoughts and dreams wandering through my addled brain. I was given water, which I had to suck through the penis gag, and occasionally I felt the temperature of the rubber around me drop, indicating that cooling water was being poured over me. Other than that, the only sensations I felt were the constant pressure of the suit, the ache of the butt plug, and the frustrating teasing of the vibrator.

Eventually, I was taken down and dragged away. I felt the straps around my body loosened, my arms freed and, finally the posture collar, gag and hood removed. My eyes hurt from the unaccustomed brightness, and my vision was blurred from the pads which had been pressing down on them, but when I could focus, I was startled to find that bending over my prone body wasn't Bethany, as I had assumed, expected and hoped, but Mistress!

"You did very well today, cunt," she smiled down at me, "I think I will reward you." She leaned down, and then her lips were pressed against mine, giving me a hot and passionate kiss, tongues and everything! I was rather breathless and confused by the time she finally pulled away. I saw the remote in her hand, and then the vibrator inside me began working at a furious intensity, much higher than it had been all day.

As I gasped and whimpered under its assault, Mistress unzipped the front of the rubber suit and pulled it apart, exposing my sweat-soaked chest. She grabbed my breasts, massaging them roughly, squeezing the nipples and pulling on the rings, merely adding to my arousal.

"Cum for me, cunt! Cum for me now!" I have to say, it was one of the easier commands of hers to obey, and I did so speedily and noisily, thrashing from side to side, arching my back and crying out at the moment of climax.

"Don't expect such treats often," she said sternly as I lay gasping for breath like a rubbery fish out of water, before she got up and walked out. Bethany came over to help me out of the suit and I just lay there on the ground, utterly exhausted from everything that had happened to me over the past few hours, trying to make sense of it all.

My conclusion was that Mistress really scared me. With Master, I felt like I knew where I was - usually providing sex in one form or another, occasionally being embarrassed, humiliated or beaten for his amusement. But with Mistress, her creativity and inventiveness when it came to punishments and pleasures meant there was no ‘usual’ with her, everything was weird and unsettling. And one of the most unsettling things was not knowing how I should react to what she put me through - should I be enjoying this? Or should I be shocked and affronted? It never seemed that clear to me…


"Our last day of holiday in Spain!" Master exclaimed as Beth and I knelt in front of him, Mistress by his side. "But Maria has organised a wonderful outing for us, which I am sure we will all enjoy!" I glanced at Mistress and saw the sly grin on her face, which made me suspect that us slaves weren’t going to enjoy it quite so much…

"Malaga holds its Fiesta de Verano today," Mistress said, "and I have arranged for us to take part. It will be very useful for you, slut, as it may provide you with some ideas for projects next year." Bethany looked rather more nervous about that than excited, a feeling I shared wholeheartedly.

We were taken to the Jeep, and Angelo made us stand in the back, where the luggage was normally put, then tied our wrists to the roll bar behind us. I was astonished - we were still wearing our slave chains, manacles and collars, as well as being naked! Surely they couldn’t be taking us into the city like this?! I wanted to protest, but I knew that it was not only futile, it would also result in some kind of punishment. I swallowed my complaints and kept quiet.

"We can't let you go like that," Mistress said as she walked over to us, "we'll get arrested! They are liberal over here, especially with tourists, but they draw the line at public nudity." Thank God! We were going to get some clothes!

Well, sort of. Mistress fastened a thin gold chain around my waist and then threaded a long, thin piece of red silk, like a scarf, under the chain behind me, between my legs, and under the chain at the front. The silk hung down to about mid-thigh front and back, just about covering my ass crack and pussy, but not much more. It was, quite literally, a loin cloth. Bethany was ‘dressed’ the same way, and then Mistress got into the car alongside Master. Clearly, the good folk of Malaga wouldn't object to seeing young girls topless and in chains!

The journey down the hills and into the city was not much better than when we arrived, Master being almost as aggressive a driver as Angelo. As the roads became wider and busier, we got more and more looks from other drivers as they spotted us as we passed. Lorry drivers sounded their air horns in appreciation, while male drivers who stared too long got grief from their wife or girlfriend.

Once we entered the city, we slowed down to a crawl in the heavy traffic, which meant that we became the centre of attention for pedestrians as well as passengers in the cars around us. There was much whooping, hollering and clapping from groups of young men ogling us. They also shouted out to us, but we didn't understand the language so were spared that embarrassment. That was, until we drove past some English tourists, who told us exactly what they wanted to do with us in graphic detail. I blushed, which was surprising given what I had been doing for the last few weeks!

Eventually, we pulled into a courtyard on a small side street and came to a halt. I watched as Master and Mistress got out of the Jeep and went through a door into one of the buildings, without a glance at either of us. I wasn’t surprised that we were just ignored – I’d kind of got used to the idea that we weren’t important, had even started to accept it as my place in this twisted relationship – but I was worried that we had been left in the full glare of the early morning sun.

As the heat built up in the small courtyard, the absence of any breeze soon had both of us slumped in exhaustion, overheated and covered in sweat. Eventually, I couldn’t stop myself sinking to my knees, even though this meant my arms were twisted painfully behind and above me, the ropes cutting painfully into my wrists. I leaned forward as far as I could to ease the twisting pressure on my shoulders and elbows, but it was still excruciating.

The torment and, frankly, tedium were interrupted when a van towing a trailer covered by a tarpaulin pulled into the courtyard and stopped alongside the Jeep. Two men got out, one quite young, the other one older, possibly his father. They both saw us immediately and exchanged comments in Spanish, then the younger guy came over. He was a rugged hunk with a white vest over his bulging chest and grubby blue jeans over his bulging…

He grinned widely as he stared at both of us, his jaw moving incessantly on the gum he was chewing as he drank in the expanse of naked, glistening flesh before him. He reached out and grabbed Beth’s breasts, making her moan and then squeal as he groped and squeezed them with his big, rough hands. The older man called over, and he reluctantly went back to the van. I honestly felt a little cheated!

They unhooked the trailer, pulling it over to one side, then got back in the van and drove off. So it was back to the tedium of sweating and waiting for some release.

Actually, it wasn't that long before Master and Mistress came back out of the house and approached us. But, wow! They looked amazing! Master was stripped to the waist and seemed to be wearing a skirt down to his ankles made of shiny gold material. He was also adorned with gold bracelets around his wrists, gold snake-shaped devices around his biceps, and a gold necklace decorated with red, green and blue ‘jewels’, which was so large that it covered most of his bare chest. He was wearing make-up around his eyes which made him look like an Egyptian pharaoh, and on his head was a magnificent golden crown. All fake, I know, but it looked damned impressive!

But he looked positively underdressed by comparison with Mistress. She wore a dress made from the same golden material, a halter neck which left her back completely bare and was split to the waist, the two strips of gold just barely covering her breasts, then a skirt down to the ground, but with slits in front and back to the knee, and in each side to the waist, allowing us to see that she was wearing golden high heeled sandals with straps criss-crossing up her shins. She wore similar jewellery to Master, although her necklace was even more blingy than his. She was made up like Cleopatra, blood red lips and black eyeliner giving her that very distinctive Elizabeth Taylor look.

The crowning glory, literally, was the headdress which rose a good two feet above the top of her head, a glittering golden monstrosity studded with jewels which sparkled dazzlingly in the sunlight. I was gobsmacked.

"You look amazing Mistress, Master!" I said quietly, sounding rather awestruck.

"Aww, that's very nice of you to say, cunt," she said with a proud smile, "I'll even overlook the fact that you spoke without permission."

She untied us and helped us out of the Jeep and pointed across the courtyard at a tap on a standing pipe by the wall.

“Go freshen up, girls,” she said, and we raced over, desperate for the divine spring. I stuck my head under the running water, letting it splash onto the back of my neck, before turning over and opening my mouth wide. I swear I would have drowned if Beth hadn’t pushed me out of the way to do exactly the same.

Meanwhile Master pulled the tarpaulin off the trailer, to reveal a festival float which matched the blinginess of the two doms, who would, undoubtedly, be riding on it. I knew it was all plywood, papier mache and gold paint, but it looked pretty good to me – Mistress’ artistic talents had clearly been at work . It looked like a miniature Egyptian scene, with columns at the four corners, urns of flowers and a miniature pyramid, all surrounding two very ornate golden thrones. The platform of the trailer had been painted a sand colour and was strewn with flecks of golden confetti. Very impressive!

Master rigged up a canopy to provide shade for the regal occupants of the thrones, and then attached two chains to the front of the trailer. I immediately began to get a bad feeling about this, which was only reinforced when Mistress pulled my arms behind my back and locked the manacles on my wrists together. She put a wide leather belt around my hips and marched me to the front of the trailer, attaching one of the chains to the back of the belt. She did the same to Bethany, and it was clear that we were to be used as the draft animals to pull the float along!

Master and Mistress mounted the trailer and took their seats on the thrones, looking every part the Pharaoh and his Queen. I became even more alarmed when I saw the long riding whip protruding from a holder by Mistress’ feet.

"Walk on!" Master called out, "take us out of the courtyard and wait." I glanced at Beth and saw that she was as nervous as I was. We turned away and took the strain, pulling the chains taut and trying to move forward. I was leaning forward at quite an angle and could feel the leather belt pressing hard across my hips, but nothing was happening. I looked at Beth to see if she was putting in the same amount of effort, and was not surprised so see the strain on her face as she struggled alongside me.

"Come on, you sluts!" Mistress shouted, and I heard the whip crack overhead. I redoubled my efforts and, to my relief, the trailer began to, very slowly, move behind us.

We managed to drag the heavy float over to the exit from the courtyard and inched forward, as instructed, until we were across the pavement but not blocking the road in front of us. Crowds of people had already started to line the street, and they were very interested by our little display - you can't blame them really, given that there were two topless girls in chains pulling a festival float behind them, probably not as sight you see every day!

After a few minutes, during which Beth and I got used to the humiliation of being stared at, as well as hearing what were probably ribald comments in Spanish, accompanied by peals of laughter, we heard the sound of a band approaching. Soon, the festival parade came into view and passed right in front of us, a long procession of marching bands, jugglers, dancing girls, clowns, and other floats, most much bigger than ours, if not better. However, I did notice that there were no other topless or semi-naked girls - oh great, I thought, we're the only ones being displayed like this!

The parade took a good while to pass and, at the very end, Mistress cracked the whip over us once again and shouted for us to ‘move out!’ Getting the trailer moving again was hard work but, slowly, we managed to pull out into the road and turn to join the end of the line.

As we went along, we were getting closer to the centre of the city, and the crowds on either side got thicker, four or five deep at some points - everyone from miles around, and all the tourists, must have been out there, looking at us, pointing, laughing. The only saving grace was that we couldn't understand what they were saying.

"Oi, darlin’! Come over ‘ere and I'll give you something to suck on!" I looked over to see where the broad cockney accent was coming from, and saw a man with a can of lager in one hand and his crotch in the other. The British tourist abroad - what a wonderful example to the world!

The parade became something of a nightmare for Beth and me. We couldn't look behind us, we didn't want to look to either side, and while the dancing girls in front of us were very pretty and lively, staring at them got boring after a while. Anyway, dragging the heavy trailer behind us was becoming increasingly exhausting in the hot Spanish sun, and soon all I could do was stare at the road a couple of yards in front of me, blinking the sweat out of my eyes.

This torture must have gone for at least an hour when, finally, thankfully, the line in front of us turned off the road and we followed them into a large car park in front of a stadium. When Master ordered us to stop, I sank to my knees and rested my forehead on the tarmac in front of me, gasping for breath. Mistress unhooked me from the cart and pulled me up onto my knees, spraying cold water from a bottle over my head, into my open, parched mouth, and down my body. It felt so wonderful!

When we had recovered for a few minutes, Master and Mistress helped Bethany and me to our feet and led us towards the stadium, and I noticed that the crowds from the street were walking in the same direction, entering through the turnstiles. Master and Mistress, however, flashed a pass at the staff and we were ushered through a private entrance into the cool, dark space below the stadium.

"Now we get to watch the entertainment, rather than being it," Mistress said, though I wasn't sure if it was to all of us or just to Master. Things clarified themselves in the worst possible way when she turned to Beth and me.

"Go with these nice gentlemen, girls," she said pleasantly, but with that tone of command in her voice that we had become so familiar with, "we'll see you later." Oh no, I thought, what are they going to do with us now?!

The ‘nice gentlemen’ turned out to be men in clown outfits - red noses, make-up, white gloves, baggy trousers, big shoes, the whole works - and they led us through the complex, one holding each arm. Our wrists were still locked together behind our backs, so there was nothing we could do to resist, and we went along meekly, resigned to whatever fate our doms had decided for us.

We suddenly came out into the bright sunlight and, when my eyes adjusted, I realised that we were in the middle of the stadium. Seats rose around a circular area surrounded by wooden walls about eight feet high. The floor of the stadium was covered in sand - no, I realised, it was sand - and, as we were led to the centre of the circle, the crowd in the seats all around spotted us and let out a deafening cheer.

The clowns, as is their wont, began clowning around. One of them squeezed my breast and made a honking noise with his hooter, while another gave me a slap on the bottom and mimed gales of laughter to the audience. The first clown now pulled my head down to the plastic flower on his lapel, and I found myself getting squirted in the face. The audience found all of this hilarious, by the sound of it, though I was struggling to see the funny side myself. Clowns, who needs ‘em?

Suddenly, there was a loud animal roar from somewhere under the stands. The clowns looked to a large wooden door with what appeared to be fear written on their faces. All of them stopped playing with me and Beth, dashing pell-mell for a wooden structure against one part of the arena wall and desperately scrambling over it. There was another roar, and this time it sounded like the furious bellow of… Oh fuck! I had just realised what this place was - it was a bullring! We were in the middle of a fucking bullring!! And the bull didn't sound happy!

I panicked, looking around for some means of escape, but the gate through which we had entered was closed and chained. The clowns had disappeared into their small protective stockade, and there was no way, with our arms shackled behind our backs, that we could clamber over the wooden walls as they had done. The only other exit from the arena was the door from behind which the terrible noises were emanating. The sound came again and, to my horror, I saw the door slowly opening…

I felt like I was about to wet myself in sheer terror, while Bethany was running around in small circles wailing ‘Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!’ With no idea what to do to save ourselves, we moved to the centre of the sandy arena, huddling together for no discernible reason, staring at the spot where the terror was going to appear. The crowd was hushed, a silence fell, the sun beat down on the condemned slaves, sacrificed like Christians to the Lions…

And then the terrible beast appeared!

I blinked the sweat out of my eyes and stared at the apparition. It was definitely… a man. A very big man - at least six foot six and very muscly - covered from head to foot in black latex. Well, I say ‘head to foot’, but his feet were actually large hooves, and his head was a grotesque representation of a bull’s head, with huge horns and big nostrils with a ring through them. And I say ‘covered’, which he was, all except for a hole over his crotch, through which poked the biggest balls and longest dick I had ever seen!

The crowd roared its approval at the appearance of the ‘bull’ and he, in response, milked the reception, putting his arms above his head and clasping his hooves together as he began to walk around the perimeter of the arena, acknowledging the audience with theatrical bows and waves. Bethany and I rotated on the spot, keeping our astonished eyes glued to him. I can't speak for Beth, but I'll admit that my eyes were firmly fixed on the enormous appendage swinging from side to side as he swaggered his way to a complete circuit of the arena.

When he came to a halt, he looked around and, as if seeing us for the first time, did an exaggerated and comical double-take before letting out another terrifying bellow - there must have been a mic in that bull's head, because the sound came from all the speakers around the stadium. Bethany and I backed away, almost as terrified as if it had been a real bull - what the hell was all this about? What was he going to do?!

He scraped his ‘hoof’ in the sand, lowering his head and pointing his horns directly at me. Suddenly, he began to run towards me and, with a squeal, I tried to run away. I made it about four steps before the chain between my ankles tripped me up and sent me sprawling on the sand. Unable to get to my feet, I tried to crawl away, gibbering like a maniac, literally scared out of my wits. I tried to look around to see where he was, if he was still pursuing me, but then I found him standing right in front of me, legs akimbo, hands on hips. Hands? I realised that the hooves at the end of his arms were not enclosing his hands, which were covered with black latex gloves. As I looked up into that angry bull’s face, I saw steam coming from his nostrils. Holy fuck, I was scared!

He reached down and took hold of the ring on the front of my collar, pulling up until I was on my knees in front of him. Because he was so tall - I guess those hooves on his feet were actually boots with big platform soles - his cock, which was now semi-erect, waved above my face like the sword of Damocles. I watched, mesmerised, as he gripped it firmly and slowly moved his hand backwards and forwards, bringing the enormous weapon to full erection. He gripped the back of my head and gradually, irresistibly, pulled me forward until the tip of his cock was pressed against my lips. As if hypnotised, I opened my mouth and felt him sliding it in, further, further, further…

It can't have been more than three-quarters into my mouth when it hit the back of my throat and triggered my gag reflex, making me retch as if I was about to throw up. He pressed harder, and my instinctive reaction was to swallow. Instantly, the head of his penis thrust into my throat, cutting off my air supply and making me panic. I tried to pull away, but he not only held me tightly in place, he pushed my shoulders down and lifted my face up, so that my neck and his cock were in a straight line, and he could force it even further down my throat!

I know my face was turning red by now as oxygen starvation started to kick in, and I could feel my consciousness fluttering, my eyes becoming unfocused… I was going to suffocate! I think he must have seen the tell-tale signs at exactly the same moment, because he withdrew and allowed me to take several deep breaths as I desperately sucked oxygen into my lungs, feeling myself pull back from the brink. But then he was back, and I was gagging on his cock once more!

This went on time after time, with me suffering a near death experience every time he forced himself all the way in and held it there for maximum sensation. I couldn't see anything, I couldn't hear anything, my whole world was his cock and my throat. As stars swum across my visual cortex, I hazily wondered if I would ever be able to speak again, because I was sure he had ripped my vocal chords to shreds!

At last, I felt him spasming and jerking as he approached his climax. I saw his head go back and another huge bellow rent the air before, moments later, I was hit by the deluge of cum spewing out of him. I had never seen so much cum in my life outside of a very strange porn clip I saw once on the Internet. It started shooting down my throat but then, as he rocked back, it filled my mouth until it was leaking out of the corners of my lips and running down my chin. Then he pulled all the way out and his firehose of a cock sprayed me all over the face - in my eyes, in my short, bristly hair, across my cheeks, over my nose, you name it, he spunked it!

When the flow finally slowed, he let go of me and I fell on my back, staring at the sky, exhausted but, strangely, at peace with the world. Now I could hear the crowd cheering, there were roses falling on me, thrown from the stands, as if I was some prima ballerina or darling ice skater being feted by my adoring audience. The stadium seemed to be spinning around me, and I closed my eyes, just for a moment, to recover…

I think I may have spaced out at that point. When I came back, I struggled up onto my elbows and looked around for the animal who had just given me my first ever throat-fucking. I saw that he was now chasing my friend around the arena, and that she was doing rather a better job of it than me, managing to stay on her feet as she dodged away from him, her breasts swinging and bouncing ludicrously as she ran. The crowd were obviously enjoying the entertainment, as they clapped, cheered and laughed at every twist and turn.

Her capture was inevitable, though. The bull-man, who I had called ‘Bully’ in my head, grabbed her from behind, his hands crushing her breasts, and lifted her off the ground, leaving her little legs kicking futilely beneath her. He walked around the arena showing her off to the crowd, before dumping her in the sand right in front of me, her knees and face touching the ground, leaving her bottom invitingly in the air. He grabbed the end of the red silk and whipped it from between her legs, waving it to the ecstatic masses as they looked down on her now-bare pussy.

She was facing me, only a foot or so away from me, and I could see the desperation in her eyes as she tried to get up and escape. But he knelt down behind her and, with one hand holding the gold chain around her waist, prevented her from any movement away. I could see that his full erection had returned, and he positioned it, ready to impale her. As she felt the tip of the enormous phallus pressing against her opening, she stared straight at me, her eyes saucer-like as she silently shook her head - no, she was telling me, there's NO FUCKING WAY THAT THING IS GOING TO FIT INSIDE ME!!

He thrust forward, like an assassin delivering the coup de grace, and her mouth formed a perfect O. A look of pain passed across her face as he forced his way into her, but it was fairly quickly replaced with one of ecstasy. He began to hump her, moving her whole body backwards and forwards in the sand. She was gasping, moaning, biting her lip, but she was definitely enjoying it!

The fucking went on for bloody ages, and I became quite jealous! Finally, I heard Bethany screaming out in orgasm - I'd heard it many times before, I knew what it sounded like - and, not long afterwards, the trumpeted bellow of Bully signalled his own climax. Bethany slumped down on the sand, barely able to turn her head to one side so that she could gasp for breath. Meanwhile, Bully rose to his feet and acknowledged the acclaim of the spectators, raising his arms in triumph and swinging his limp but still impressive cock from side to side, as if taunting the crowd, and us, with his indomitable sexual prowess.

Eventually, he bent over me and Beth, grabbing the rings on our collars and pulling us to our feet. With one held in each hand, he turned to the crowd and bowed, pulling us down into a bow as well, then repeated this to the four corners of the compass. The crowd went wild, applauding, whistling, cheering, throwing a few more roses. Then, the bull-man led us out of the arena and into the cool space under the stands.

A woman came over and released my arms from behind me, handing me a towel to clean up with, before moving on to Bethany. As I wiped the cum from my face, head, and my body where it had dribbled and congealed, I watched our assailant as he removed the bull's head.

"Brilliant performance, girls!" he said enthusiastically, his Australian accent taking me completely by surprise. "If I hadn’t been told otherwise, I would have said you were definitely professional actresses! That look of fear on your face was priceless!" His broad grin, lantern jaw and wavy blonde hair made my heart, and certain other parts of me, melt - he was gorgeous! When teamed with his muscles, his stamina, his technique, and his enormous dong, it was like having a Greek god walking, and fucking, amongst us!

"That wasn't acting," I managed to say in as flirty a tone as I could, "that costume and that… thing" - I pointed at his groin - "are enough to scare any girl!"

"Crikey! Sorry!" he exclaimed, looking genuinely upset, "if I'd known, I would have… you know…"

"I didn't say I didn't like it," I said coquettishly, giving him a coy smile.

"Oh, for God's sake, get a room!" Bethany said in exasperation, "or, better still, why not just go out there in front of the crowd again and give them an encore?!" We both laughed, a little sheepishly.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," the woman who had given me the towel interjected, "your Master and Mistress said you should come up immediately." We said our hellos and goodbyes to Shane, thanking him for his ‘attentions’ in the arena, and hurried off with the woman.

She took us up various flights of stairs until we emerged once more into the sunlight, now high up in the stands. People around us immediately recognised us and began cheering and clapping, which quickly spread around the ranks of seats.

"Acknowledge your applause, slaves." We turned to see Master and Mistress sitting in what looked like VIP seats. Beth and I went to the rail and waved to the crowd, smiling self-consciously at our nakedness, but not bothering to cover up.

"And now," Master continued, "come over here and kissed our feet like good little slaves." Without a moment's hesitation, we both went down on our knees and bent to the task. As I conscientiously kissed Master's feet and licked between his toes, I wondered what would be next on our bizarre holiday agenda…

End of part 9

Copyright© 2014 by Jennifer Harrison. All rights reserved.