Indentured (15 page)

“I’m going to fuck you now, slave. Do you want me to fuck you?”

That was when I knew I’d lost my mind.

I couldn’t get my mind to cooperate. Too many orgasms, too much pain, and too little sleep had combined to leave me insane. I thought Sir had said he was going to fuck me, but that couldn’t be. He was just using me as an investment. It was Mary he fucked.

He pinched both my tits between his thumbs and forefingers, pulling them up and away, and I screamed in pain.

“I asked you if you want me to fuck you, slave.”

This was real?

“Yes, Sir,” I said as soon as I could manage.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Sir. Please, fuck me, Sir!”

He finally released my tits, but he slapped them each several times.
“That’s a good slave.” He dropped his head and took my right nipple into his mouth, biting into it and pulling back with his head before releasing it. “You know what makes a good slave? She wants what her Master wants. So if he wants her to drink piss, she wants nothing more than to drink as much piss as she can. If he wants to video a hundred men fucking and torturing her, she can’t wait to be tortured and fucked into oblivion. And if he wants to fuck her himself, she fucking begs him to fuck her harder and faster and longer. That’s what makes a good slave.”

I’d wanted him to fuck me for so long, but right now I just wanted to be allowed to pee. I’d come so many times and my bladder was so full, I just wanted to pee and rest and maybe sleep some for once.

But if I didn’t do what Sir wanted, he would definitely punish me.

“Please, fuck me, Sir,” I said as convincingly as I could.

He slapped my face and then bit my other tit like he’d done with the first. “Try harder, slave.”

“Please. Please, fuck me, sir. Fuck me hard.”

“Call me Master.” He punched my lower abdomen, right over my bladder.

I screamed. “Please, Master. Please, fuck me hard, Master. Please…”
I was panting, frantic, sobbing.

Another slap to the opposite cheek. “Keep begging. Don’t stop until I tell you.”

“Please fuck me, Master.”

The clothespin pinched my nostrils.

“Please, Master, please fuck me so hard. Hard and fast.”

Something pinched my right tit, closer than the piercing.

“Please fuck your slave as long as you want, Master. Please fuck me.”

The same happened to the left tit.

“Please.” Heaving, wracking sobs interrupted my pleading, until he punched my abdomen again. “Please! Master, please fuck your slave. Please fuck her like the toy she is.”

I wasn’t sure what made me speak of myself in the third person like that, but he seemed pleased by it. He kissed me again before he went back to work, pinching something tightly over my clit.

“Please fuck this fuck toy hard, Master. Please, Master. Please…”

The fucking machines stopped and he pulled them away. “When I fuck you, you do not have permission to come unless I cut off your air.
Since you’ve aptly described yourself as a fuck toy, you’ll understand that you exist for my pleasure. I fuck you because I want to come, not because I want you to come. If I’m inside you and you have an orgasm without permission, you will be punished. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Master. Please fuck your fuck toy, Master.”

When he came back to me, I felt a massive strap-on at my cunt and his cock at my ass. He drove them both home in a single thrust. In the time since he’d fisted me until now, my chemical enhancements had ensured that both my holes had shrunk back down to merely the size of the dildos from the fucking machine. I screamed in pain, and nearly came just from that.

He gripped my hips and forced me back onto him with equal fervor as he worked his hips, fucking me with a near frantic intensity. “Keep begging, fuck toy.”

“Please fuck your toy hard, Master.”

One of his hands left me, and then I knew why. My piercings jolted to life. It was too much. All too much. I was frantic, desperate, in so much pain and I knew my orgasm wouldn’t hold off for long.

He slapped my face. “Beg.”

“Please fuck your toy, Master. Fuck your fuck toy harder.”

He tugged on a chain connecting the clamps he’d put on me, ramming his cock and the strap-on deep, ripping me apart.

He wasn’t cutting off my air, not yet, but I still couldn’t breathe. I was gasping. “Please, Master. Fuck your toy, Master.”

I felt my bladder release, and I was lost. My orgasm ripped through me, shredding me, and all I could do was scream and convulse as it took over.

I’d only thought he was fucking me hard until then. His thrusts were as brutal as anything I’d ever seen, plowing all the way into me in rapid succession. The strap-on was punching against my g-spot over and over again, and I couldn’t stop my climax.

“Does this hurt, fuck toy?”

It hurt in the most amazing way. I could only nod.

“Do you want it to hurt more?”

I nodded again.

“Beg. Beg me to fuck you so hard it hurts.”

“Please. Please!” was all I could get out.

Faster. Harder. He ripped away the chain, tearing off my clamps, and then put both hands around my throat and squeezed.

I saw streaks of lightning exploding into fireworks, and then I was out.

I wasn’t dead, and he wasn’t done fucking me.

When I came to again,
I was still restrained in exactly the same way, but almost everything else was different.

He’d taken the tape off my eyes, and I blinked into the bright spotlights. The blinking red lights of video equipment caught my eye in at least a few different locations. Sir’s cock was still in my ass, the massive strap-on still in my pussy, but he wasn’t fucking me like a freight train anymore. It was slow and deep, and almost like what I’d think making love was. You know, if I wasn’t tied up and his slave.

He kissed me once I stopped blinking, his tongue working in my mouth in time with his cock in my ass. He cupped the sides of my breasts with his hands when he broke off the kiss, his thumbs brushing over my nipples in a way that nearly brought me to climax again.

I bit down on my tongue, trying to stop it from happening.

He smiled.

I couldn’t remember ever seeing him smile before.

“You were a bad fuck toy, weren’t you?”

Because I’d come before he took away my air. That was against the rules. “Yes, Sir,” I said.

“Master.”

“Yes, Master.”

He increased his pressure on my tits, and I had to fight not to squirm away from his touch. “My fuck toy should never come while I’m inside her unless I’ve taken away her air. But you came hard, and you didn’t stop coming.”

“Yes, Master.”

He pinched my tits, pulling them up and away from my body. I sucked in a breath.

“What should a Master do with a disobedient fuck toy?”

He wanted me to beg him to punish me. I knew it. I just couldn’t seem to make myself say the words.

“What was that?” he said impatiently.

“Punish your fuck toy, Master,” I mumbled.

He bit down hard on my nipple, and I screamed. “Please punish your fuck toy, Master.”

He bit the other, and I was shaking from the effort of not climaxing again.

“Is that what you want? You want me to punish you?”

A slave—a fuck toy—should want what the Master wants. “Yes, Master. Please punish your fuck toy, Master.”

“I will.” His cocks kept pushing into me, long and slow, driving me closer and closer to earning another punishment. “But I’m going to finish fucking you first.”

And that he did, taking his time about it. He easily spent another hour fucking me, teasing and torturing my clit and tits all the while, and driving me to four more against-the-rules orgasms.

I’ve never been the praying sort, but when he finally shot his load deep in my ass, I said a silent prayer of thanks.
When he pulled away, he yanked my catheter out. I said another prayer of thanks for that.

He removed the strap-on and set it aside on a table. For the first time, I looked around the room. I didn’t recognize it at all. The walls were all black, and there were no windows. It was filled with all sorts of contraptions like the one I was strapped to. Over against the far wall, I recognized my old cage, cross, and sawhorse. I doubted he intended to put me on any of them, since they were how he had me sleep for the first month of my time serving him. He wouldn’t consider them punishment.

“So…you came five times that you shouldn’t have, didn’t you fuck toy?” He sounded casual.

“Yes, Master,” I agreed.

“But one of those times, you came for a long time. I think it would be fair to count it as five separate infractions. Do you agree?”

I didn’t, but that was beside the point. “Yes, Master.”

“Excellent.”

He came back from the table carrying all sorts of scary looking things. The first was a gigantic double-headed dildo, which he wasted no time in shoving deep into my empty holes. It had a cord attached to the butt end, which he left hanging. Then he started placing what looked like stickers all over the most sensitive parts of my body
—my breasts, my cunt, my ass, the insides of my thighs, my neck, the soles of my feet, and on and on. And of course directly over my tits and clit, pressing them down hard so they fully covered my piercings. Each of them had a plug, and once he had the stickers all where he wanted them, he plugged cords into the plugs.

He connected the other ends of the cords to a black box. When he flipped a switch on it, I got a jolt of electrical current through each of the stickers. He turned it off again pretty quickly.

“This current will intensify ten times when the stickers are in contact with a saline solution.”

I didn’t understand why that mattered, until he walked away from me and pulled a black cloth off of a clear glass box—big enough to fit a human inside. Cue my panic.

“I can control it with a remote control,” he said. “You’ll have a mask on that will allow you to breathe. Each time I activate this device, it will also remove your oxygen. You will come. If you fail to orgasm when you are supposed to, I’ll add another ten minutes for disobedience. As it is, you will spend ninety minutes in the tank. The dildo in your cunt will measure your orgasmic response in addition to stimulating you with electricity, so I will know whether you’ve experienced an orgasm or not. Understood?”

“Yes, Master.”

He started to remove my restraints, replacing them with other forms of restraints. He put both of my legs together and shoved them into a tight pleather sheath. My arms were pulled behind my back, and he did the same with them. It fit over my hands so I couldn’t possibly remove any of my stickers.

Then he carried me into the tank and fitted the mask over my head. Once again, I couldn’t see anything, which only caused my panic to intensify.

“The time begins when the tank is completely filled and not a moment before.”

The door closed.

I felt water coming in under my ass. It was cold, crazy cold. I hoped the tank would fill quickly, but it didn’t. It was painfully slow.

Once there was enough water that it reached my waist while I was still seated at the bottom, he zapped me. He hadn’t been kidding about the intensity multiplying. All of the stickers that were in contact with the water felt like they were frying me. I screamed, frantic, but I couldn’t make myself come. The fear was keeping my orgasm at bay.