A Month in the Highlands Chapter 1 I was recently shipped to Glasgow, a dark and dreary city in Scotland, to spend a full month as Mistress Maggie's sex toy and body slave. She had won me at a get together in London, having bet my perfect Mistress that she could break me before the establishment closed for the day. I failed my perfect Mistress miserably, and she became so distressed that she doubled the time of my stay with Mistress Maggie and announced that there were no conditions to my servitude. Mistress Maggie decided to take her at her word and had already told me that she would do something to prevent me from ever having erections again, perhaps even having me castrated, or worse still, fully converted into a feminized maid. In that treatment my balls would be first crushed, then a few days later hot irons would be used to burn the damaged mass of flesh away. Next my penis would be flayed completely, coated with layers of acid jelly for approximately two days, then what remained would be burned away with electric needles. According to her, if done properly, the sub, namely me, would be conscious and in excruciating pain for the entire process. I blanched at the prospect of surviving such torments. In parallel I would receive massive injections of female hormones and sex stimulants that would result in the development of large breasts that would be further enhanced with injections of irritants and toxins that would cause addition swelling. Despite my inability to ejaculate the sex stimulants were designed to keep me in a sexual frenzy for which there could be no relief. My vocal cords would be surgically shortened to produce a voice of a much higher pitch. My facial features would be transformed with the aid of collagen injections as well as the scalpel, and my body would undergo a variety of procedures to supply me with a nicely rounded ass and hips, as well as a flat stomach. The aforementioned operations would be performed without the benefit of anesthetic, instead depending upon proper use of restraints to keep me steady while my flesh was cut away, rearranged and molded into new and more erotic contours. Every hair on my body would be removed using electrolysis, a very painful process that literally burns the follicle down to the skin level and then follows the root to its base, burning everything away as the acid solution migrates to the base of each hair root. A special surgical procedure would create a nearly fully functional vagina located in the region formerly housing my penis and testicles. It would be angled slightly differently and sheathed with a special artifical skin giving it the texture of a normal cunt. It would even be equipped with a lubricating system that would operate once my "vaginal" cavity was fully filled with whatever toy, tool or organ that was being used on it. I must confess the prospect of being able to fully service both men and women excited me no end. This was not lost on Mistress Maggie who amused herself by seeing how much humiliation and degradation I could endure. She had me caned for thirty minutes every morning and again before I was stored for my rest cycle. My bottom was soon a blistered mass of pulpy, raw flesh that constantly oozed all manner of liquids. My penis was tortured for hours each day, usually when it could no longer get hard enough to satisfy the mistresses or their friends. Mistress Maggie had a wide circle of mistress friends. Most of these goddesses also had friends who enjoyed abusing me. Many of the mistresses had figures that were utterly awesome to me. I have always been attracted to women with large breasts and fleshy bodies, perhaps due to my first and greatest love, my mother, who taught me much in the ways of pleasuring the superior sex. I remember the happy times when I would be allowed to lick her perfect cunt and suck her perfect asshole for hours on end as she manipulated my penis, never allowing me to cum, but always giving me the hope that one day I would be allowed to squirt my seeds onto her perfect body. My dream was never fulfilled. It wasn't until many years later that I realized my perfect mother-mistress only loved her own kind, despite the fact that I was of her womb. Today was to be decision day on my fate according to what the other mistresses told me. As a result there were quite a few of them assembled to have their way with me for perhaps the last time, or at least until my transformation or castration were completed and I had healed. My morning caning was extended since most of the mistresses wanted one last go at my bleeding, oozing ass. For nearly an hour they took turns giving me as many of the best as they could deliver in their allotted time. On this occasion I was fixed to the praying bench which allowed the ladies easy access to my mouth while I was taking the cane. My nose and tongue were buried in their fragrant mounds, burrowing deep inside to take my mind away from the agony being generated as bits of flesh were literally beaten from my bleeding ass. It grew even worse when someone brushed my bloody bottom with a cloth soaked in some astringent solution that made me feel as if my hind end was aflame. The pain was so bad that I lost control of my bowels and bladder, a rare event and one that brought cheers as well as gasps from the assembled group. The caning resumed with a fury I had never experienced. I began to sincerely doubt that I might not survive this utterly vicious treatment. It was almost as if they knew I was doomed and were determined to give me the type of sendoff that would become the stuff of legends. It was Mistress Maggie herself who announced time, perhaps saving me from death. I had begun to tremble uncontrollably toward the end and it was starting to get very hard to see. Breathing was almost impossible, my face was buried so deep into the hairy cunt of Mistress Clara that I was suffocating. Perhaps this feeling of rapture, inhaling her scent and all the other elements that made up her fabulous cunt may have prevented me from dying of asphixiation. I recall that Indian mystics could go into a trance that allowed them to control their breathing to the point that they could survive on as little as one breath in a minute. When the cloth was again rubbed over my devastated ass I howled to the skies and nearly broke free of the thick leather straps that held me while I was caned. To my amazement, within minutes the level of pain had dropped substantially and the maddening pulsations from all the damaged flesh receded as well. Then it was off to the bathroom for breakfast. Even though I have been here for more than two weeks, I still have not become accustomed to the food that these people consume. It is made doubly difficult since all my food and water has to pass through the mistresses before I am allowed to partake of it. In point of fact had I not been receiving so many enemas from the various mistresses I'd likely have swollen up like a balloon from everything they were feeding me. This morning I was once again properly attached to the large commode. My arms were pulled back and cuffed together behind the base of the throne and my head bent back into the correction position. I was now ready to accept the delicious offerings of the mistresses who chose to feed me. The ladies lined up, led as usual by Mistress Jana. Mistress Jana, a frail looking lady in her late 50s at least, makes it her business to only do her business in my mouth. She is a most punctual mistress, arriving prompty after my morning bout with the cane or canes, depending upon who is in attendance. She places her puckered asshole to my lips for a good morning kiss and an affectionate lick before the release of her first day's urine, a torrent of strong smelling and tart tasting liquid that seems to flow forever. She has this habit of moving her bottom a few inches each way as she sprays her dark, golden stream down my throat, then pausing for perhaps a minute before releasing another lengthy spurt. While she pauses I am expected to busy myself cleansing her asshole that will soon be straining to release a string of well formed turds that I must chew carefully before swallowing; under no circumstances am I to gulp my food. Mistress Jana is most fastidious about her personal hygiene and woe to the sub who fails to meet her exacting standards. Breakfast would be a rather lengthy process this morning based on the number of mistresses waiting to feed me what might become my last meal. As usual while I obediently chewed and swallowed, my penis was manipulated to produce the first few spendings of the day. Under normal circumstances two ejaculations would suffice. I would be allowed to lick my freshly milked semen from the leather-gloved hand of the mistress who had induced it, sort of a palate cleanser before more breakfast was served. Today my twitching, throbbing sex organ was stimulated mercilessly, nearly a continuous process of strong steady strokes that sooner rather than later produced the desired effect. I had learned from Mistress Maggie that a good sub was one who could become erect and remain in that state for lengthy periods of time while the mistress amused herself with it. To guarantee this type of situation, in a manner of speaking to take the edge off, the breakfast exercise had been instituted for all subs. My stomach became full to the point that I was experiencing quite a bit of discomfort. The mistresses were not amused. Mistress Caroline, a massive woman with pendulous breasts featuring the longest set of nipples I had ever seen, became most displeased with my behavior. Her enormous hams hovered over my upturned face while she jammed her finger down my throat. Even before the first involuntary contraction began to propel portions of my large breakfast from me, she lowered her massive weight against my open mouth, preventing the release of that which had roiled up. I began to rapidly drown in my own vomit, as it had no suitable outlet. At this moment, just before darkness overtook me I had a tremendous spending that I was told had utterly astonished the mistresses. It was almost as if I were being dropped from the gallows and had begun to sow my mandrake seeds. To my utter amazement I returned to the world of the living none the worse for wear. I opened my eyes to see Mistress Maggie with an expression of concern on her face, something I was not at all familiar with since my arrival. She puffed her cheeks out and then said, " You didn't really think I would allow you to escape so easily, did you now? I have much in store for you today, much indeed. It will be akin to your visits to the club, all rolled into one." I shuddered at her remark. The club was perhaps as close to hell as I have ever experienced. In my brief visits it had already left me literally marked for life. (To be continued)
A Month in the Highlands Chapter 2 My first visit came the night after my arrival at Mistress Maggie's home. The moment I followed Mistress Maggie inside I knew that this was something beyond the pale. Hanging from the bricked wall was a naked man, or what was left of him. He bore knife marks from his neck down to his toes, many fresh and still bleeding. He had a large penis trapped in a cock ring. Its head had been pierced and from it hung a weight that bent it into a trembling arc of agony. Every square inch of his straining sex organ was covered with some form of tattoo. Midway on his long length of stiff flesh was a narrow metal strap that was screwed so tight that it was cutting his penis in half at an infinitesimally slow rate, but nonethless unless it was relieved, it sooner or later would sever his penis. I was terrified and appalled at the same time that anyone could so be cruel to even the lowest sub such as he. I almost lost control of my bladder when Mistress Maggie selected a dagger from those cutting tools mounted beside this lump of tortured flesh and casually cut a slit from just above the base of his penis to his navel. The few people in the vicinity smiled or made complimentary comments on her action. The fact that not a sound issued from him after Mistress Maggie's cruel cut made me wonder whether it was self control or he had lost his power of speech. Mistress Maggie dragged me into the main room of the club where all matter of things were occurring. There were more mistresses than masters in attendance based on what I saw. Of interest, in this part of the world the masters dressed as one might expect with the emphasis on leather and metal. The mistresses wore their own unique garb that initially gave one pause because it was so pedestrian and decidedly on the non-threatening side of things. I had been most curious when Mistress Maggie appeared to take me with her, wearing what could only be described as a well-cut, rather conservative, business suit. Within a few minutes my mistress and I were surrounded by a number of women dressed in such items as teddies over underpants, girdles and bras of the most functional material, and one who sported a corset over a pair of latex panties, matching black suspenders, hose and high heels. Some also wore snoods and curlers in their hair. All were well upholstered with one exception, a thin, sharp faced woman in a housecoat wearing horn-rimmed glasses with curlers in her hair. I was to learn later to my dismay that she was the ranking sadist among the mistresses in attendance. Subs were almost as numerous as those in command and more were men than women, although at times it was difficult to determine sex. They were uniformly thin to gaunt. Like myself, they were fettered in some way or another and without clothing of any type. Most were covered with a mixture of scar tissue, open wounds of various types and past injuries that were in the process of healing. All the women had rings through their nipples, and one or two also wore heavier rings embedded in the breast meat itself. The men also generally had nipple rings,and the more standard cock rings, cinched tight, and pierced scrotums from which dangled weights of various shapes and sizes. About half the female subs had groups of rings piercing their labia, usually weighted. I noticed that one or two females had been circumcised, a brutal ritual popular among the more hard edged dominant groups. The thing that was quite a bit different was the age groupings of the subs. There were almost as many in the 50 and over category as in the more traditional 20 to 35 age group. Before leaving with my mistress I had been dosed with a number of pills that resulted in a rigid erection and the uncomfortable feeling of wanting to have sex with anyone who had a hole. It was astonishing to realize that the tip of my twitching penis was nearly to my navel. Moments later I nearly ejaculated when, once comfortably ensconced within the security of the club, Mistress Maggie removed her business suit to reveal her opulent body clad in only a brief pair of dark red, frilly, bikini panties and a matching suspender belt attached to black hose. When she pulled her panties to the side, revealing her thick mat of dark curly pubic hair I could not take my eyes from that plump mound. My new mistress was also blessed with a set of pendulous breasts that any woman half her age would be proud to exhibit. The sight of all this marvelous flesh so fetchingly revealed for all to see and appreciate was almost too much for me, and I felt myself on the verge of swooning. I managed to retain a soupcon of dignity and avoided making a scene. However once she removed herself from my view, I began to fixate on a gaunt man in his early 50s who was totally limp, but possessed an asshole that gaped wide. Sodomizing male subs was standard practice no matter where one served. Perhaps I was obsessing over this unfortunate soul because I knew that before Mistress Maggie and her circle of friends were done tormenting me, my asshole would likely resemble his. A middle-aged blonde woman wearing a corset that ended below her impressive breasts and just above her smooth shaven cunt, ran her long finger nails up and down the length of my stiff penis and purred. " Oh, fresh cockmeat, and I'm so hungry just about now for a nice big load of hot boiling cum." I was at a loss to respond to her overture, my mistress had disappeared into the throng leaving me abandoned and at the mercy of any and all who might wish to amuse themselves with me. Little did I know at the time that there was a strict protocol that had to be observed in the case of unattached subs. No master or mistress was allowed to physically harm the sub in any way, but they were welcome to use them sexually. I was to discover after some time at the club that "using" a sub, be it man or woman could mean pairing them with other subs, those in command, or even animals. The mistress, Mistress Bonnie, took me into a secluded corner and had me lie on my back upon a low bench. She settled herself on a plush ottoman beside the bench and began to apply her warm, wet mouth to my twitching penis. I was a bit taken aback by this; normally a sub such as myself would never have the pleasure of a mistress placing her mouth upon his penis. It was at that moment that she dug her teeth into the sensitive region just below the tip of my imprisoned penis. I attempted to free myself of her and received a harder bite for my impertinence. She was a true mistress, proving it with each well timed bite to my rock-hard appendage. She gave me great pain but never broke the skin. Her teeth marks would however be visible for most of the evening to the delight of her friends and the other mistresses. When she had her fun, Mistress Bonnie release my penis from her mouth and closed a leather gloved hand around it. " Now for that nice helping of hot, creamy cum. It had better be a large load with plenty of chewiness or it's back to the meatgrinder for another more serious session this time." I shuddered at that prospect and started to will my testicles to manufacture as much semen as a sub could produce under such circumstances. It was a lengthy and most frustrating process. She brought me to the verge and then would give me a wicked smile and squeeze my testicles until tears came from my eyes and my penis began to lose some of its rigidity. Then she would resume delivering those long, hard strokes that soon had me teetering on release. Once again there would be terrible pain that overwhelmed my urge to ejaculate. She kept this cycle going for what seemed like an eternity. Another senior mistress wearing a teddy over a pair of bloomers stopped by to witness my torment for a time. She licked her lips and asked if I was available once Mistress Bonnie was done with me. My tormentor laughed and nodded, adding " Come back in about fifteen minutes or so. By then he'll either have covered my glove with a nice layer of thick, chewy cum or I'll be putting some additional teeth marks on this miserable sub's worm-like cock." Mistress Bonnie proved to be a very accurate forecaster. She was licking the last traces of my enormous offering from her glove with obvious satisfaction when the other mistress returned to claim me for whatever she planned. Mistress Bonnie glared at me and said in a voice dripping with menace, "I am not done with you yet. Our paths will cross again and I will make you beg for mercy. Perhaps your mistress will be so kind as to invite me to her home so that I may assist her in your training. There is much for you to learn." She raked her fingernails up and down my stiff penis, still hard from the drugs I had been given, leaving a set of deep furrows in my swollen flesh. I followed my new mistress, Lady Martha, towards the rear of the club, frantically searching for a glimpse of Mistress Maggie. Then I was upon her, but ignored. She was busying herself with a gaunt female sub who was trying to burrow inside her plump mound to escape the flogging a second mistress was giving her. Every time the whip slashed across her bony body, its razor sharp tips tore bits of skin and flesh from the sub's bleeding form. Mistress Maggie added to the female's misery by lashing her shrunken ass cheeks with a small barbed whip that ripped away her skin and sent a shower of bloody froth into the air. "Pay her no mind, Mistress Maggie is too preoccupied to care about the likes of you. Start thinking about what you'll have to do to satisfy me and no one else. I am offended by your insolent display of that piece of male pride. I intend to take the starch out of that little nubbin in due time." I still had not realized that I was shielded from the type of physical pain that I was witnessing all about me, and so her veiled threats towards my hard penis were a source of grave concern to me." Having been in the city only a few days and they had been extremely busy, it was still a mystery to me why all the subs I saw were so thin. Then from the corner of my eye I caught sight of one who appeared to be the exception. Upon closer inspection I realized the male sub manacled to the open wooden frame was emaciated. What I had mistaken for corpulence was merely his bulging belly. A plastic hose ran from his propped open mouth to a large funnel. As I watched, a plump woman in hair curlers and a bra with a forest of thick black fur sprouting from her pits and pubic mound squatted over the funnel and released a stream of dark yellow urine that wended its way to the sub's mouth. From the looks of his distended stomach he had been servicing quite a number of masters and mistresses during his stay. Lady Martha cuffed my ear with a loud slap and ordered me to pay attention. We moved on toward her destination. I soon found myself in a precarious situation and one that did not suit me well at all. I'd been placed in a prone position on a rough wooden bench which had a portion of its middle removed. My wrists were cuffed behind my back and I was held against the bench by a wide strap. Another strap held my head fast and unsupported, placing a considerable strain on my neck muscles. A rather large chair mounted on blocks was arranged against the head of the table. As soon as Lady Martha settled her body in the chair and splayed her legs over the comfortable arms to reveal the angry gash of her hairy vagina, I knew what was expected of me. That did not present any immediate problem since I am an extremely well trained pussy eater, and would not be daunted by the owner's personal hyigene. When another male sub with a large erect penis scrambled up onto the table, I knew things were not going to go well for me. It became even more uncomfortable when a large, rough hand captured my testicles and a mouth that was definitely not feminine began to suction my painfully hard penis with a great deal of aggression. Lady Martha's eyes glittered as she settled her malodorous cavern directly against my mouth. "I hope you will enjoy the attentions of my two subs, One and Two. One, who is below you, has not had anything to eat except shit and piss for months. I'm sure he will do his best to drain you dry of the nasty stuff you males generate, as this will no doubt be a treat for him. Two on the other hand has been held in a cock cage for ten weeks and teased unmercifully over that time. I'm sure you will ultimately enjoy his enthusiasm and skill as he widens and deepens your bum hole for hours on end. I, on the other hand, will not tolerate anything less than perfection which is exactly what my magnificent genitalia deserve. If you fail to please me, it will go bad for you, very bad. There are many ways to hurt a male without leaving any evidence. I can't imagine that Mistress Maggie will pay any heed to your existence until she has gone through at least half a dozen female subs, who she seems to favor these days." At this point I gave up to despair. During the three years with my perfect Mistress, she and a few close friends had stretched and plumbed my anus on a daily basis with a variety of toys and tools. What was happening to me currently was not too much different except for the fact that what was being used on me wasn't a replica and in no way was this sub anything like any mistress that I had encountered. The sub was more like a rutting animal, which made the experience most distressing and humiliating, that is, if a sub like myself could be humiliated in the truest sense of the word. Two's relentless assault on my asshole also resulted in my prostate being stimulated. Combined with the ravenous way that One was suctioning my penis resulted in a large mouthful of cum which One speedily disposed of. Lady Martha realized that I was feeding her sub his treat and redoubled her efforts at suffocating me, thrusting herself into me with a great deal of energy. I attempted to match her thrusts with some practiced tongue maneuvers that I had been taught over the years. She was not mollified. I was going to be severely challenged at this rate. Two's battering ram slowed, and a warm, wet feeling began to work its way up from my anus. It proved to be only a brief respite for me and then once more Two began maniacally pronging my bottom hole with his rampant sex organ. Part of me was enjoying the suctioning of my penis, the taste and aroma of Lady Martha's vagina along with the stimulation of my prostate. Another part began to realize that no mistress had ever penetrated my rectum with the fury and power that Two had developed. I realized with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that Two had been dosed with powerful sex stimulants that were partially responsible for the ferocious attack he was making on my sore sphincter. I doubted I could survive his frenzied assault for very much longer; I was beginning to experience pain. Moments later One vacuumed another load from my churning testicles. Lady Martha made some adjustments and now I was licking her anus which evidently had been recently cleaned in a perfunctory manner, leaving some residue for me to deal with. While I did the required housekeeping on Lady Martha, Two took a brief rest, then resumed trying to drill through me. He had shifted his position slightly and now his thick member was penetrating me to the maximum. This tended to slow his speed slightly and I gave thanks for this small favor. (To be continued)
A Month in the Highlands Chapter 3 In order to prevent panic from overcoming me, I concentrated all my energy on polishing Lady Martha's rosebud to glistening perfection. My tongue tickled and probed that tight fortress of muscle that protected her anal passageway. My efforts seemed to have some effect upon her, as she began to push herself back in an attempt to force my tongue through her sphincter and into that warm musky chamber that held all manner of delightful tastes and smells. Then One took a different tack and broke my concentration. I suddenly felt his mouth closing around one of my churning testicles, then the teasing of his tongue as it bathed my tight testis with a coat of saliva. From there the sensation changed to one of pressure as he sucked hard on my imprisoned gonad until I began to feel pain instead of pleasure. Two must have sensed in some way my discomfort and he took this opportunity to shift himself so he could pound me with short, quick strokes as his hands dug into the flesh of my hips. I felt myself approaching another climax. One also sensed it and redoubled his efforts to tickle my gonads into producing as much semen as possible for him to ingest. His mouth moved from one to the other, applying pressure that was surprisingly gentle although quite insistent. I realized that this was his lot in life and in order to survive he had become most adept at what he did. Two was alternating his thrusts, moving from side to side as if trying to open me further. I thought that strange, in my experience a tight bottom was always desireable, and I took great pains to keep mine as tight as possible, which had seemed to make my nistress and most of her friends happy. At this point Lady Martha expressed her discontent over my performance. I was receiving so many different signals that it was nearly impossible to focus on any one of them to the exclusion of the others. I was reminded rather forcefully that the only signal I must acknowledge and respond to was from her. It was she who was in charge; the rest of us were only slaves and as such were equal in that we meant nothing to those exalted mistresses and masters. Suddenly I felt Lady Martha's hands trying to rip the hair from my head. The pain was so great that I forgot what I was doing. I could not have done anything worse than to leave her glistening anus unattended. My head was yanked back and forth as she tried to tear my hair out by the roots. One and Two continued their activities unabated, knowing from my body language that I was being buffeted about by their mistress, but caring only for their desperate needs. She abruptly shoved my face into her crotch and ground her hairy vulva up and down from my brow to chin as she grunted and shuddered. I suddenly realized that my anal activities had nearly borne fruit, but I was sufficiently distracted that I was not aware at how successful I had almost been. I knew in a flash that I would pay dearly for this extreme insult to her person. What followed was not unexpected. Lady Martha began to box my ears, first with her open hands and then with her fists. All I was able to do was bury myself deeper into her furry furrow and suck as if my life depended on it, and perhaps it might. My efforts seemed to calm her down a bit and her thighs clamped around my head, keeping me tightly attached to her pungent vulva. I quickly insinuated my tongue into her slit and began licking for all I was worth. She humped herself against my face and shuddered through the first stage of what proved to be a massive orgasm. It was beginning to be very difficult to breathe, trapped as I was by her dripping vulva and pebbled thighs. I opened my mouth wide and tried to catch a small wiff of air. For a brief moment I was able to capture some life sustaining air and so I resumed my attentions to her vagina, trying to get as far into that sodden channel as I could. She wiggled her hips and went through another set of spasms letting me gain more air. Each time she allowed me a precious breath of air I outdid myself with the kind of stimulation I provided to her increasingly wet tunnel. It began to sink in that while I had been bringing Lady Martha to her orgasm, her slaves had slacked off in their attempts to, in the case of One, make me cum or in the case of Two, et him cum. I was most impressed by their training, these two for all their brutishness knew instinctively what their roles were in this particular event. I immediately was made to understand that now that their mistress had achieved her main goal, they could resume. Two shifted into another gear it seemed and now One had managed to get both of my testes into his mouth, creating a unique sensation that I had not previously experienced. Lady Martha was not finished with me either as I discovered. She yanked me by the hair until my head was out from her crotch and glaring at me she said in a voice that made my blood freeze, "If you were not under Mistress Maggie's protection, I would have you flogged until there was no room left on your miserable body that could be made to bleed. You will suffer greatly for inconveniencing me, but it will have to wait until your next visit when you will be available for any and all manner of discipline from anyone who cares to indulge. I shall make sure that I am in attendance to exact justice from your miserable self. You shall have earned whatever befalls you then." No sooner had these words been spoken when she began to pummel my face with her clenched hands. I was helpless and unable to even dodge these blows that rained down on my unprotected face. It was astonishing to me how much force this matronly woman could develop. I knew by next day my eyes would probably be nearly shut from the swelling that she was creating with these heavy blows. Sometime during this vicious beating I realized that I was ejaculating into One's greedy mouth and that somehow Two had managed to drive his thick organ even deeper into my sore rectum. Then once more I felt that strange wetness begin to envelop my anal passageway, and knew that Two had found his release as well. My temporary mistress soon tired of venting her anger on me, and set me back to once more worshipping her anus and grooming her hairy pubes. She struck me soundly across the skull every time she wanted me to transfer my attentions from one region to the other. Meanwhile One and Two resumed their tireless assaut on my penis and rectum. I know that the drugs Mistress Maggie had made me take prior to our departure were still working at full effect. I was eager to have Two split my bottom into two chunks of blistered meat and turn my insides into mush, another side effect of drugs that stimulated one's libido. It allowed all sorts of hidden pleasures and desires to escape from the depths of the slave's mind, and mine was no exception. I lost track of time and merely concentrated on making sure that I responded quickly to the cuffing that I received from Lady Martha whenever she wished me to turn my attentions to her dripping vulva or well moistened anus. I managed to successfully bring her to another rather explosive orgasm; she nearly suffocated me inside the folds of her soaked vulva as her vagina spewed a gusher of salty fluid into my mouth. Twice I spurted into One's demanding mouth; his tongue, lips and even his hands were in constant use to milk me of whatever my churning testicles could provide. I was thankful for the advantage that the sex stimulant drugs gave me, but realized I would pay a very painful price once the effect wore off and my sex organs had to cope with the outrageously excessive demands that had placed upon them. Once more, that is the lot of the slave. The slave's life is a series of tradoffs between pain and pleasure; this is the siren call of the life. Only a slave, one committed to total service to a goddess, can understand why it does what it does. How can a slave possibly explain what it means to be in the company of a being so much greater than themselves, that one minute of happiness derived from being her slave can more than overcome a year of pain and suffering? Two had slowed down slightly. Even with the assistance of drugs his stamina was compromised by his less than optimum diet. Lady Martha also noticed his decrease in vigor and began to berate him for his less than sterling performance. He responded by redoubling his efforts to sodomize me in the manner that his mistress expected of him. She finally waved him away and then decided to have me service him orally. I was rearranged on the table so he could present his still rigid penis for my attention. As I knew it would be, his member smelled and tasted foul, being covered with various and sundry secretions from both of us as well as whatever was lurking in my colon, awaiting removal. I did what was expected of me and in a very short time my sucking and licking had brought him to the verge of cumming. At this point Lady Martha began to use a strap on my buttocks, slashing away, but not hard enough to draw blood. I knew that this was one of the advantages I had since this was my initial visit to the club; no drawing of blood and no permanent marking of my body. However this did offer the membership some leeway in punishing me for any real or implied act of disobedience. I would experience some rather creative expressions of this very shortly when Mistress Fawn decided that I was in need of being taken down a peg or two. I felt Two's hands grab my hair and then use this grip to control my movements. I was doing my best to make him spurt, having surmised that the beating I was receiving from Lady Martha was somehow connected to me ingesting Two's semen. He began thrusting deep into me, his penis poking against the back of my throat and making me gag. Quickly I was forced to begin spewing saliva over the length of his member as he slammed mindlessly into my mouth. Snot was literally issuing from my nostrils as the battering continued. I was now having difficulty getting enough air to breathe, so deep was he now penetrating my throat. My vision became blurred and my focus on things became diffused as I approached my limit, still being unable to make Two deliver his seed into my waiting mouth. Then things became dark and that is all I can recall. (To be continued)
A Month in the Highlands Chapter 4 "It lives, how nice." This new voice dripped with menace, and I debated whether to remain with eyes shut and possibly incur her wrath, or open them and confront my fears. I opted for the latter choice and stared into the glittering eyes of the sharp-faced woman in the housecoat who I had observed previously. Her horn rimmed glasses gave that face an even more sinister look; she reminded me of one of those birds of prey hovering over its next victim, which in this particular case was me. Mistress Martha complained bitterly at my lack of staying power, stating that other slaves had endured far more from Two than I had, and still were conscious and able to take even more punishment. I mentally took exception to her remarks, but wisely held my tongue. She went on to admit that she had tired of me since this foolish rule about no blood was preventing her from doing other more entertaining things to my body. Her grim-faced companion said nothing, but I could feel her sizing me up for whatever she had in store for me. "Follow me, on your knees and be quick about it. We have much to do before your mistress seeks you out." I crawled after her as she strode imperiously towards a rather inobtrusive entry way partially concealed by a dark curtain. This was her own private lair, not officially of course, but due to the nature of who she was and what she did to those slaves unfortunate enough to fall into her clutches. All this knowledge, which was gained in the most painful of ways, might have allowed me to better prepare for what was to occur. I crawled into a small, dimly lit room where a number of slaves waited for their mistress to bring back the latest meal for them to fed on. She shouted instructions as two of them placed me against a low rectangular wooden frame and lashed me to it with my legs bent and pulled up to the rings used to anchor them in place, and my wrists pulled to the sides and fastened to another set of rings. Then my head was forced back until it hung over the top portion of the frame. A leather collar was fitted to my neck and attached to the frame to keep me in this awkward and decidedly uncomfortable position. I was now staring upwards at the dark ceiling, my naked body spread upon the frame, vulnerable to whatever torments this cruel mistress could devise. I suddenly realized that in this position my head was about the same height as a normal man's crotch. The implications caused my blood to chill. A fixture resembling a ruff, only more bowl-shaped, now captured my head. It was pulled tight around my neck, inches up from the leather collar I now wore, causing me to have some difficulty drawing breath. It was then that I felt a coarse hand begin to manipulate my penis, which was still stiff from the stimulants I had been dosed with before I left with my mistress for the club. "That's not good enough, give him some of these pills and make sure he swallows then down with a goodly amount of piss." Her words added to my fear that something terrible was about to occur to my person. A hand grabbed my hair and yanked hard as another voice shouted, "Open that trap of yours and swallow these pills if you know what's good for you!" At the same time I felt the disembodied hand pulling the foreskin back from my uncut penis until tears filled my eyes. I did as I was instructed and then I heard a laugh before a stream of foul smelling piss began filling my mouth. I was hard pressed to keep up with the flow but I was determined not to choke which would make matters only worse. My plan was thwarted when someone kicked me in the stomach. I coughed up the pills and some of the piss that had been flooding my insides. I was punished with a second kick, lower, more into the groin area and I was lost. I choked and sputtered, all the while still taking on this seemingly unending stream of rancid tasting piss. Again a hand forced a handful of pills into my mouth, and a voice said, "You puke these up, I'll crush your balls into paste." The piss stopped and I was allowed to regain my equilibrium. Within minutes the pills began to take hold. My penis began to feel warm and then hot as more and more blood flowed into it, increasing its girth and even its length. For the first time I felt her dust-dry hand touching my twitching shaft, running her fingernails up and down its length and then scraping the tender flesh of my glans, no longer protected by a layer of foreskin. "The next time you visit my little parlor I think I'll circumcise you to get rid of this ugly wrinkled skin that makes it so difficult to get at the more sensitive regions of that sticker of yours. It will be very painful when I do it. I believe in giving those I operate on as much pain as possible; that's why the knife I use will be dull, very dull. It will be even more painful when I cauterize that nasty tool to prevent you from bleeding to death. I use a lit cigarette to perform this part of the operation and it can sometimes take up to an hour, which means many cigarettes, before the job is done. Then I'll make you hard as steel and let you enjoy your new penis in the asshole of one of my slaves, preferably a young one who is still tight to add to your discomfort." Despite her threats and my dismal prospects for leaving this dark and dreary countryside with my body intact, my penis grew even harder. I could not believe it was entirely the pills doing it. I fear that the masochistic side of my personality was becoming excited about the prospect of having my penis mutilated. I remember how I felt when my new mistress was describing what she might do to turn me into a pretty maid with a fully functional vagina. The idea of being able to pleasure a male as a woman while I was simultaneously pleasuring a dripping female's secret places with my well trained tongue was a thrilling diversion. The closest I had come to such a condition was being sodomized by a dominant male while at the same time I was licking and sucking the vagina of a mistress who was in her period. My introspection was destroyed by this terrible pain originating in the vicinity of my scrotum. My testicles felt as if they were in a vise that was crushing them to a pulp. There was this awful sensation of having my scrotum being torn from my body. I began to panic as the pain increased; there was nothing to do except shreik. I received another kick to the stomach for my troubles, followed by an even harder blow that landed inches from my straining penis. "I didn't know you were a sissy slave disguised as a male. A real male would hardly notice a one stone weight added to his nut sack." Her voice mocked my pain and cut into my self confidence as the pain leveled off at a point that was barely below my limit. The mental torment began anew. "I suppose you'd make a great deal of noise if I added another one stone weight to the head of that little thing you call a cock. I guess I'll have to make due with another little exercise of that stiff thing." As she spoke I could feel something wrapping around the exposed head of my penis and then tightening until I thought it would cut into my sensitive flesh. I bit my lip to prevent myself from cryng out and being mocked further. "Good, you're capable of learning, there may be hope for you yet, but not too much my sissy slave in disguise." The pain from this thing noosing my penis head reached a crescendo and then my organ began to accommodate itself to the pain once I realized it was not going to either cut or competely sever my penis. I began to calm down and see if by relaxing I could better deal with the numerous painful sensations that were bombarding me. Without warning, the pressure on my scrotum disappeared; my heart leaped with relief for a brief moment and then the one stone weight was dropped and I was revisiting that world of agony, now intensified by the speed in which it returned. I heard her cackling in the background. Now something was being pushed into my rectum; it felt rather small almost like a suppository. Another followed and I waited, anticipating some new pain or unpleasant surprise. I was not disappointed. Gradually whatever they were began to create a burning sensation within my rectum and as time passed the prickling turned to a steady fiery assault on my sensitive flesh. She leaned close to me and almost whispered, "These are cloves, my sissy slave; they are used to make certain types of show horses keep their tails in the air. I wonder if they'll work the same way on that lttle cock of yours." Then I felt her fingernails raking the length of my penis once more and this time when she dug her talons into the head of my penis I nearly fainted from the pain. Things took a decided turn for the worse when one after another, people began urinating onto my face. With time I began to realize that the ruff was acting as a cistern, capturing and holding the urine that I didn't swallow. What frightened me was the fact that no effort was being made to force me to ingest the acrid fluid that showered down upon my upturned face. A chair was provided to allow the women, evidently all slaves, to add to my misery. Some of them even balanced themselves precariously so that I could lick their rancid cunts and thighs clean of any residue. The stench of my surroundings began to take its toll as the cascade of waste continued unabated. Now as the urine splattered into the pool that had formed around my head, the splashings started getting into my eyes and nostrils. For the first time I was facing my chief tormentor, and she gave me a smile that froze my blood. "It looks as if my sissy slave is going to have to start swallowing these golden offerings or drown in them. This should be so much fun to watch." I knew she was correct, and so I began to swallow as much piss from these people as I could. Gradually I felt my stomach becoming rounder and then bulging as the flow of urine continued. My mind struggled to rationalize my predicament. Sooner or later there would be no more slaves left to provide this never ending golden shower; I would survive. It was then that someone kicked me in my bulging stomach and I began to vomit up most of what I had just ingested. I was on the verge of losing control, panic was beginning to set in. Now someone was painting my eyes with her stream of stinking liquid waste.I instinctively shook my head and managed to get more than I bargained for as a considerable amount of urine got into my nostrils and began causing me to choke. Again a heavy foot planted itself in my belly and I brought up more urine as well as a few chunks of my morning meals, which had been considerable. Now there were half digested feces floating inches from my face. I heard her voice once more. "Enough, let the sissy slave marinate in his own shit and piss for a time, then I'll introduce that little cock to my friend, Rex." For a moment I relaxed, which was a mistake. My belly was caved in once more by a ferocious kick from a booted foot, most likely a master come to have some fun with the new slave. I regurgitated the remaining bile and other noxious material that was being converted by my stomach's acids. I felt very close to losing my senses and allowing this sea of filth to have its way with me. (To be continued)
A Month in the Highlands Chapter 5 Things had now reached a precarious state of equilibrium and I concentrated on breathing properly and doing my best to calm down. I kept reminding myself that no matter how dire the situation seemed to be, I was still safe, thanks to being under the protection of Mistress Maggie. They might be able to frighten me, and to date my antagonists had done an excellent job of it, but the rules forbade them from permanently harming my person, (if a slave might be so described) in any way, or drawing blood, which eliminated many additional torments that might have been visited upon my body. So I waited for what new surprises would be sprung upon me. They wasted little time. I felt something warm being dripped onto my penis; it did not burn or for that matter irritate it in any way. I continued to concentrate of breathing properly and doing my best to control my heart from jumping from my chest. Then I felt my foreskin being pulled back to its limit; the pain was quite intense and I had to finally release a few screams and the like to acknowlege that my limit had been reached, and perhaps even exceeded slightly. Silently I prayed that this forceful handling of my sensitive foreskin might draw some blood, thus freeing me from any further interaction with this extremely cruel woman. Such was not to be the case. Now I felt some kind of binding that assured that my penis would remain in this extremely vulnerable position. More of this strange flowing material was added, now concentrated on the newly exposed portion of my penis. Then I realized in a flash what was happening when this large fleshy tongue began lapping up the substance that had been deposited on my rigid prong. I was going to be forced to have sex with a dog, a very large dog if it's tongue was any guage of its size. Perhaps the words "to have sex" were not correct. It was more likely that I was going to be raped by this animal, since I was definitely not interested in willingly having any form of sexual congress with it. The lapping and sniffing continued unabated, its tongue searching out all the crannies and crevices for more of whatever it was scooping up from my penis. As the search continued, I began to feel some pain from the raspy tongue that was now beginning to irritate the exposed flesh that was normally protected by the foreskin that was now pulled back and held fast to allow me no shelter from the beast's assault. More of that substance was applied to my sore penis and the dog continued to lick it up with long swipes of its tongue, each pass further irritating the sensitive flesh. Then some was applied to my scrotum, and the dog's tongue quickly followed. By now the pain in my penis was significant and I could feel some type of fluid beginning to dribble from the tip of my cock. Now it was someone's finger scooping up this fluid and sampling it with a loud smacking of the lips. I was not prepared for the vicious blow that the person delivered to my rigid member. The pain was blinding, but not sufficient to mask the growling of the animal, now distracted from its feast. Things were becoming perilous and I was utterly helpless to prevent whatever was going to happen next. I did not have long to wait. I felt a hand grasp my stiff penis and then I felt something poking at the head of my member. The poking continued awhile until I suddenly experienced a sharp pain as something entered my pee hole and began moving through the length of my penis. I had never felt anything like it; the pain was considerable, and I thought that something hot was moving inside my shaft. The pain continued until whatever it was was fully entered. Now my bladder began to empty itself almost unbidden by my own muscles. Later on I would learn that I had just undergone a catheterization process. My bladder was now totally vulnerable to anything that could be put down that narrow tube that ran out from the slit in my hard dick. Then I heard a chuckle that froze my blood, followed by a voice that said, "Now let's see what we can pump into this haughty slave's bladder. I know what we'll do, let's pour some of that piss he's trying not to swallow back into him and see how much he can hold. After all a bladder is something that can expand greatly, isn't it?" As it turned out that comment was far from being accurate. The level of waste in the ruff was lowered substantially, a harbinger of what was to be pumped into my bladder. However I was not to be spared any relief from that which I was immersed. I was given a Hobson's choice as a thick penis was presented to me. "What shall it be my pretty, a nice long drink directly from the tap, or the prospect of consuming a bit of shit along with that aging piss that surrounds you in order to avoid drowning in this filth?" I realized that ingesting this offering would only delay the inevitable, but I desperately needed some time to marshall my strength for whatever was to come. I opened my mouth and soon a stream of acrid waste began squirting down my throat. I did my best to keep up with the flow that was steady and quite powerful, evidently issuing from a very full bladder. I could feel my belly growing as my unknown tormentor continued to fill me with his yellowish offering. Then I felt the overwhelming urge to urinate. It caught me unprepared and I automatically tried to open the muscle that would allow the urine to flow from my filled bladder. This reflex had no effect whatsoever, I could not relieve myself! To make matters worse my concentration had been broken and now I was coughing and choking on the seemingly endless stream of urine that was splattering across my face, into my eyes and mostly landing within my mouth. I struggled blindly, panic now gripping me in its powerful grasp. The pressure on my bladder increased slowly and I despaired. I had never felt such a sensation of fullness, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. In order to make the pain associated with the back filling of my bladder my main focus, they ceased pumping anything more into my full bladder, waiting until I finished swallowing the last of this torrent of urine that made my belly feel as full as it had been in some time. A set of sharp fingernails raked my bulging belly and I heard that blood chilling cackle once more. Initially I felt very little as far as pain as the mixture from my ruff was once more pumped slowly into my bladder. Then abruptly I felt the first lancing pain as my bloated bladder began to react to the pressure being applied from what was pouring into it. I groaned as the discomfort grew. My reaction evidently was disturbing to whoever was in charge of my humiliation. "Give the slave something to chew on, his natterings are bothersome to my ear." I heard and felt someone searching in the mess that surrounded my head and then a hand grabbed my hair and pulled my head back painfully. "Open wide my pretty, and chew on this." A large turd was squashed into my mouth and a hand held it inside and waited for me to begin chewing on it. I had no choice, especially when my nostrils were pinched shut. My jaws began to dutifully work on the soft mass of waste material, as I heard laughter in the background. I have never felt the need to urinate as badly as at this moment. The pain was excruciating. Once more those long fingernails raked across my flesh, this time passing over my bloated bladder and providing a degree of pain that was inexplicable. I screamed until my voice grew hoarse. My reward was to experience another pass of those talons. I began to lose hope of ever escaping this torment. What was to become of me? How would Mistress Maggie react to my unfortunate demise? Worse still, how would my perfect Mistress respond to the news that I had passed away unexpectedly? The propect of dying in such a dreary place was perhaps the only thought that kept me from competely giving over to utter despair. The voice whispering in my ear broke my fixation, returning me to the matter at hand; how to survive this perilous situation I found myself enmeshed. "It seems as if you are stuffed to the gunnels and yet there is much more I wish to do in this regard. Tell me slave, what would you suggest?" That blood chilling cackle that followed was even more terrifying in close proximity to my ear. I felt numbed. How could I possibly make any kind of a reponse that would make any degree of sense to this voice, considering her objective was to make me suffer to my limits and perhaps beyond? Those wicked nails dug into my nipples and I gasped from the pain. "I guess I'll have to improvise since you have not chosen to cooperate with me on this matter. That will be on your head and that of your obese mistress, who obviously cares little for your well-being." Moments later someone began pissing into the ruff locked round my neck; shortly thereafter another stream joined in and I was deluged with their acrid showers. The level in this cistern that they had constructed rose precipitously, threatening to submerge me. Then the flow from the pair stopped, leaving me less margin than ever. My head was bent back and my neck stretched to its limit to keep my nostrils clear of this noxious sea that surrounded me. Then wonder of wonders, I began to feel my bladder releasing its contents. I was utterly exhilarated at this feeling of relief, so much so that I failed to appreciate what lay in store for me. "You have only one choice my stubborn slave, find some storage place for what I have just had removed from your bladder. Once you accomplish this deed I will extract another amount from your reservoir and feed it into your bladder. Then one of my slaves will once more restore the level, leaving you only one option when it comes time for you to handle the additional waste material that I will make available from your rather well stretched bladder. This will continue for a time, perhaps longer than you will be capable of keeping pace, but that will not be my fault. This will be laid at the feet of your current mistress, the uncaring one." It was then that I realized I was just a pawn in a power struggle between these two dominant and demanding creatures, the type I wished to spend my life serving. How ironic to die in such a drab, dank place with no one to observe my fate and perhaps at some later date inform my perfect Mistress of what transpired, and how I had only thoughts of her as I gave up my existence. True to her word I was forced to ingest everything that was pumped into my burning, roiling bladder. My belly became full to bursting within a few cycles. My aching bladder was now to its limit, perhaps a pint of that noxious mess surrounding my head had been moved through my still erect penis. At each exchange my stomach grew fuller and more rounded. I did not really know just how much was too much, but I realized that I was having some difficulty in gaining breath. The issue became completely academic when a foot sank deep into my belly causing me to begin vomiting up its contents, now even more toxic thanks to the reaction with the acid in my guts. At first the relief from the pain that grew with each moment from my distended belly overcame the realization that I was on the verge of drowning in an ocean of waste, turds floating in a sea of urine and god knows what else. Then I inhaled my first mouthful of this fetid muck and struggled to regain my composure or else face imminent death. The second mouthful became a partial lungful and I lost consciousness, absolutely convinced that I had breathed my last. (To be continued)
A Month in the Highlands -
Chapter 6
I awoke to darkness and pain. My
surroundings had dramatically changed, but my scrambled brain had no idea
precisely where I was. According to the vibration and smell of exhaust fumes, I
was in an automobile, probably in the trunk. Although not bound in any way,
there was no freedom of movement. It took me some time to realize that I was
inside of a kind of sack. Moving my hands over the smooth leathery surface of
this container led to contact with a metal strip of some sort, but further
investigation using only my sense of touch yielded no way out from this tiny
prison. It was then that the foul taste in my mouth became my focus, the
residue of the humiliating things that were done to me. I now recalled my final
moments before passing out, and shuddered.
Who had rescued me and where were we going
at present? Was one of those harpies dedicated to my destruction and utter
degradation still in control of me? I prayed to whatever god would hear my
pleading and promised anything if I could be returned to the safety of Mistress
Maggie, a cruel but just mistress. That led to other questions. What was in
store for me if indeed we were returning to my current mistress's home? What
kind of penalty would I be made to pay for my less than perfect behavior at
that horrible place?
The
ride over the rutted roads of this god forsaken land jostled me sufficiently
that I vomited a number of times, making my accommodations even more inimical
to my health and well-being. To take my mind away from its surroundings I began
to contemplate my near term future based on two scenarios, either we were
headed for the home of Mistress Maggie, or someone who had plans for me that
were likely to challenge my continued existence.
The more I thought of it, the more it
seemed apparent that they were returning me to the realm ruled by Mistress
Maggie. Then I began to muse over what lay in store for me there. If indeed she
had reclaimed me from the monsters that had been tormenting me, she would
likely exact something in exchange for her generosity in rescuing me from what
appeared to be my demise. That prospect instilled a high degree of anxiety as
the car bounced over potholes and ruts on the way to its destination.
At last the car slowed down and after a few
minutes came to a halt. There were muffled sounds of someone exiting the
vehicle and the door closing. I waited for my fate, but was disappointed
initially. Many long minutes passed before the trunk popped open and voices
foreign to me began to converse in loud voices. Then the bag containing me was
being dragged across the floor of the trunk, but not lifted or opened. I
remained silent and unmoving although the stench of my previous vomiting was
thick within my leathery prison.
Abruptly my container was lifted and then
dropped to the ground by these strangers. Now came the sound of someone
fumbling with the lock that held the bag fast, and briefly the zipper opened
slightly, only to be quickly closed as whoever it was got a whiff of my
container. I could clearly hear the sounds of footsteps receding into the
distance, and began to fear that they were going to leave me out here in the
elements overnight. Already I could feel the icy grip of the damp night air
through the leather, and my body began to shiver in a vain attempt to generate
sufficient heat to shield me from the cold.
Considering what happened shortly
thereafter, I might have been far better off being left to shiver in the
darkness. The zipper on my leather prison once more opened, and something
slithered inside to join me. At first my imagination took it for a snake of
some sorts and nearly lost control of my bladder. Then it began to hiss, but
before I could react to even more evidence that my companion was a reptile,
water began to spray over me.
Whoever they were had inserted a hose into
my bag and were now filling it with water. Panic seized me by the throat,
fearing that their intention was to drown me. Despite my struggles to increase
the opening in the bag, I was thwarted. Over the rush of water my ears picked
up voices and laughter as the amount of water increased steadily within the
leather bag in which I was contained. Soon my face was pressed against the
opening since the water level had reached my neck.
Rather than giving in to panic, it would
have been much wiser to realize that drowning was out of the question unless I
gave up all hope of survival. My salvation lay in keeping my face in its
present position and allowing the water to rush around me and exit, bringing
the container and myself, into a tenuous state of equilibium. As my body
shivered and shook, its heat being sucked off into the chilly water that was
now spurting from the bag, reason began to once again take control.
They had no present intentions of drowning
me, what was happening was simply a matter of making me minimally presentable,
free of the vomit and other rank odors that had been emanating from my naked
body. This made the rest of my ordeal much more bearable, and as I had
surmised, the water finally stopped and the hose was withdrawn. Moments later a
harsh male voice ordered me from the bag.
I eagerly complied despite the damp chill.
"Spread those legs and be quick about
it! Now put your hands behind your back so I can properly cuff you. Make any
false moves and my partner will use his baton to calm you down straight
away."
Not being in a position to disobey my
captors made it easyt to immediately comply. The cold metal circled my wrists
and the click that followed immobilized them. My teeth began to chatter as the
cold wrapped itself around my soaking wet body like a cloak. My ears pricked up
when next my jailer spoke.
"Stand up straight and try to look
more like a man than the slave you obviously are. The mistress will be down
shortly to personally speak to you before we transport your miserable carcass
inside to temporary quarters, such as they are. Say nothing, but nod your head
when it is appropriate. Now buck up and try your best not to shiver and shake,
it shows weakness and you shall need every ounce of your strength to handle
what is to follow."
It seemed as if I'd been standing in the
chill for an eternity when the mistress of the manor loomed from the icy fog
that develops this time of the year up here in the highlands. She was cloaked
and her face hidden by the cowl that protected her from the elements. I did not
recognize the voice that came from this indistinct figure, but it was a woman,
of that there could be no doubt.
"So there you are, in your native
state I see. Your present mistress has been so kind as to lend me your services
while my sister and her two nieces are visiting my home. She informs me that
you are on loan from your mistress for some transgression that she didn't wish
to discuss. Mistress Maggie assures me that although you are a slave, and thus
ignorant and untrustworthy, you are very capable of providing the type of
service that will be required while these visitors remain under my roof."
"Obey them as you would me or any
other mistress, and you may escape with a relatively whole skin. Be warned that
they are most demanding, the young are in many ways more of a challenge than we
who have matured and know the limitations of our slaves, even those merely
visiting or passing through on their way
to some other assignment. The three of them are to be addressed only as
mistress. To you they shall be nameless, quite fitting considering the gulf
between their state and yours. Woe to you if ever I hear of any unhappiness
originating from your behavior, no matter how small the offense."
My new mistress turned and disappeared
from whence she came, leaving me trembling from the cold as well as what lay in
wait for me. My handler, which in truth he was, prodded me in the direction of
the brick covered manor that looked to these eyes to be almost as large as one
of those ancient castles which now and then pop up on the terrain, their towers
in disrepair, their walls failed and open to whatever animal now chooses to
occupy its innards.
Once inside the building we descended to a
level well below the ground. If anything it was even colder in this area than
outside. He walked me into a cell like room that was at least heated by a
brazier of glowing coals. He uncuffed me
and waved his hand as he described the chamberpot, blankets and a small ewer of
water that had been prepared for my arrival. He pointed to my shriveled
genitals and made a crude joke about needing them to be in good working order
if what he had heard about the guests of
the mistress was accurate.
"I've been told that the three ladies
are a humorless lot with rather healthy appetites in certain areas.That reminds
me, are you gay or straight?"
To a slave like myself the idea of having
any say or control of one's sex partners had no meaning. What did my sexual
preferences have to do with such things? So without even thinking, I merely
shrugged my shoulders and told the other that gay and straight meant nothing to
me. I probably would describe myself, if allowed, as omnisexual. The quizzical
look on his face told me that my choice of words was a poor one. So I used
blunter terms, stating that a hole was a hole as far as I was concerned and
that went for mine as well. He roared with laughter at this, then stopped
abruptly and his face hardened.
"Does this omni whatever include
animals? The reason I ask is that I've already seen the dogs that the young
ones have brought with them, and they could only be for three reasons,
protection, hunting and....."
His pause spoke volumes, but once more I
shrugged, and he nodded his understanding without a word more. Then he finished
our discussion by first telling me that the mistress wanted me to fast for the
next two days, but I'd be allowed all the water I wished. Then he gave me a
small, nasty smile and added that the morning would start with me taking a
large ice water enema. I was too tired
and cold to care much about what the morrow would bring. All I wanted to do now
was to fall into the embrace of dreamless sleep.
( To be continued - lex
ludite )
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