Sweet Torments: The Best of Alex Jordaine (11 page)

We crept gingerly towards the clearing and, peering through a canopy of leaves, saw that same half-a-dozen naked guys sat on a slope by the stream, stroking their erections. They seemed to be waiting for someone, the ringleader I assumed. There was also another guy there, a beautiful blond-haired Adonis. He was sitting on a rock slightly apart from the others, playing with himself like them but with a noticeably pensive expression on his face. Then the person they’d evidently been waiting for arrived.

Yes, it was the ringleader. Like the others he was buck naked and erect; the glans of his cock was wet with precome. He walked straight over to the beautiful blond who stood up so that they could caress. However no sooner were they in each other’s arms than Blondie broke their clinch and squeezed the ringleader’s nipples hard, causing him to gasp in pain.

Blondie gestured for him to get onto his knees and blow him. He pulled at the ringleader’s hair as he sucked his cock and fondled his balls. The ringleader, alternately licking the head of Blondie’s cock and sucking his balls, seemed to relish his uncharacteristically submissive role. But I quickly realised that it was all an act.

He got up from his knees and began to regain control in this brief power struggle (
if
he’d ever truly lost it, which I now very much doubted). He spun Blondie round, bent him over, and spread the cheeks of his backside. He tongued Blondie’s anus greedily while his lover/rival pulled on his own cock with brusque, short strokes.

The ringleader then began spanking Blondie’s backside vigorously, each smack a sharp explosion of sound as he followed one stinging blow with another in rapid succession. By the time he spat into Blondie’s open anus to lubricate it for entry, his rear was a fierce red from the spanking it had received.

The ringleader pounded his cock in and out of Blondie’s anal hole, fucking him hard to the rhythm of his groans of pleasure. He obviously decided not to come, though, as I heard him say, ‘Let’s save the best until last.’ At this point he withdrew his cock, which was as dripping with precome as was that of the blond.

All the other guys then got into a huddle and began masturbating one another. By this time Paul and I were beside ourselves with lust. It was time to reveal ourselves, we decided, whatever the consequences of doing that might turn out to be. So, into the clearing we both went to join the rest of the wankers.

‘Well, hello!’ exclaimed the ringleader in evident pleasure at seeing me. ‘We wondered when we’d
come
across you again – excuse the pun! – and I see you’ve brought along a horny friend.’

‘That’s right,’ I replied, ‘and he’d like to join your wanking club.’

‘I’ll bet he would and we’d love to have him,’ replied the ringleader. ‘But does he know about the initiation ceremony for joining this select little group?’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘but the trouble is that he’s not into pain at all. Is there any way you could waive the requirement in his case, do you think?’

‘You present us with a quandary,’ the ringleader drawled. ‘We’d love to include this beautiful young man in our perverted circle. In fact, looking at his big, hard cock, I can hardly bear to keep my hands off him. But it’d be unthinkable not to have an initiation ceremony.’

I’m sure my look of disappointment matched the one I saw on Paul’s handsome face.

‘But wait,’ the ringleader added, giving me that wicked smile of his. ‘There might be a way. Tell me: would you be willing to take his place even if it involved your being on the receiving end of
twice
the amount of pain and humiliation that you had to endure in your own initiation ceremony? If you were, I think we’d be able to stretch a point and let your friend join.’

‘Yes,’ I replied unhesitatingly, ‘I’d be only too willing to do that.’

‘No, don’t,’ Paul said, his voice pleading, ‘not for me, please. I’d never ask that of you.’

‘You don’t understand. I
want
to,’ I responded firmly. ‘You see, Paul, I really get off on it.’

And so the extreme version of their initiation ceremony began in earnest as they used leather belts to first tie my wrists together and then upraise them and secure them to the same branch of that same oak tree. They also used a belt to tie my ankles together as they’d done before. The ringleader told Blondie to go and get his rucksack, and from that he took a jism-caked handkerchief. He handed it round to all the guys to use to wipe off the precome from their cocks until the cloth was soaked with boy juice. He then gagged me by stuffing my mouth with it.

The ringleader delved into his rucksack again and this time brought out six wooden clothes pegs. He attached two of these to my nipples and the other four to my ball sack, causing me to shudder with pain. He told Paul to kneel in front of me and suck my cock for all he was worth, instructing me that under no circumstances was I to allow myself to come. Paul wrapped his lips round my shaft and obediently began to give me the four-star blowjob that had been required of him. He swirled his tongue around the head of my cock, flicked it round my come-slit, and then moved it up and down my shaft, tasting every throbbing inch of it. It was pleasure, pure pleasure.

‘Now – pain,’ the ringleader announced and the beating started. All the guys took it in turns to whip my backside with leather belts, stroke after searing stroke as I struggled uselessly against my bonds. The ringleader took over next and beat me with a bamboo cane he’d just cut. Each of his swishing blows smarted vividly, until the pain I was enduring had become a fury that burned agonisingly into my flesh and my eyes were awash with tears.

The ringleader appeared to relent at this point and ceased caning me. He also told Paul to stop blowing me but to remain on his knees. He removed my sodden gag and the pegs from my nipples and ball sack, and lowered the belt that held my wrists to the branch, although leaving them tied. He removed the belt from my ankles and passed it to Blondie. He told him to use it to tie Paul’s wrists behind his back.

The ringleader ordered the kneeling Paul to suck off Blondie and swallow his come. He also instructed the rest of the guys to come all over Paul’s face. He made me bend forward and spread my legs. He knelt behind me, prised the cheeks of my backside apart and licked my anus, my anal muscles contracting around his sinuous tongue. Then he took some lubricant from his rucksack, rubbed it on his hard cock, and pushed it into my rear. The thrill of penetration edged with the pain I felt in my anus, and he started to fuck me, the strokes of his cock slow at first but building steadily in pace.

I panted with desire as the ringleader fucked me ever harder while pulling on my aching tumescence. I watched an ecstatic Paul gulping down Blondie’s come, and then have all the other guys – now masturbating feverishly – each build themselves to a climax and ejaculate over his face in great juddering spasms.

Finally, the ringleader reached his own powerful climax, sending copious amounts of come deep into my punished rear. At the same time he took me with him with his pumping hand around my cock, making me shudder to orgasm, right there in the middle of the deep, dark woods.

Last Slave Standing

Kate and Jay were a kinky young couple, heavily into BDSM and female domination. If their lifestyle was out of the ordinary to say the least, their modern red-brick box of a house was anything but. They decided to buy a place with a bit more character but found this easier said than done. All the houses they looked at were wrong in one way or another: too small, too big, too expensive, or too threadbare. The couple were on the point of giving up the hunt when their luck suddenly turned. They came across a property that was a real find and snapped it up.

The house, which originally dated back to the 19th century, stood in a tree-shaded street in one of the more cosmopolitan parts of town. It was set back behind cast-iron railings and its solid front door was approached by wide stone steps. The house was self-contained and spacious, with tall, arched windows. Inside there were high ceilings and good-sized, well-proportioned rooms. Oh, and it had a large basement. Now, what on earth could a pervy pair like them possibly do with that?

Kate and Jay had played many times in the dungeon of Kate’s best friend, Chloe, a highly experienced dominatrix. They were invariably joined there by Chloe’s house slave, Mark, and often by another slightly older but equally attractive fem dom couple, Carol and Paul, who had also become close friends of theirs.

Chloe, a raven-haired beauty like Kate herself, had hosted some fantastically raunchy play parties in her dungeon that the friends had all attended. Kate and Jay found it wonderful to think that they’d soon be able to reciprocate. But, first things first: they had to create their own dungeon, which would be no mean feat if they were to make a good job of it. And Kate was determined to make an
excellent
job of it.

Jay was at the time off-the-chart busy at work. Kate therefore decided that it would be best to leave him out of this particular equation and made the creation of a dungeon her own personal project. She had the basement fitted out with all they would need for their BDSM games. For this she employed the same specialist firm that had helped create Chloe and Mark’s dungeon.

The work Kate had carried out included the fitting of subdued lighting that focused on various pieces of equipment. Most of this was made of or was partially covered in soft black leather, like the horse, the horizontal torture chair, the whipping bench and the St Andrew’s cross. She had an open cabinet of dark wood fitted that was panelled up to the ceiling and extended the length of one of the walls. Upon the polished wood she hung her large collection of disciplinary instruments. They ranged from simple straps to tawses, crops, whips, paddles, canes, gags, chains, handcuffs and nipple clamps.

Once completed to Kate’s exacting standards, the whole play space gave off the wonderful aroma of leather and screamed out sadomasochistic sex. It was time for her and Jay to give their brand “spanking” new dungeon a proper christening.

Joining the couple for this eagerly awaited event were Chloe and Mark, and Carol and Paul. Jay and the other two slaves, all entirely naked, were kneeling in a row against one of the dungeon walls. They were all sporting impressive erections, their cocks rock hard and throbbing, in anticipation of what was in store for them – whatever that might prove to be.

Their respective mistresses stood together nearby. Carol, her short ash-blonde hair brushed back from a face that was agelessly beautiful, was naked but for a tight corset that cinched her waist and pushed her breasts up enticingly, and knee-length boots with sharp stiletto heels. Both the corset and the boots were of dark red leather. Chloe and Kate were also virtually naked and both looked as seductive as Carol. Chloe was wearing only a black leather bra that left her shapely breasts exposed, merely framing them; and very high heeled shoes. Kate wore a black leather waistcoat, which she had left undone, and knee-length boots, which were also of black leather and were polished like black ice.

Kate was holding two objects, one in each hand. In her left she held a leather flogger that was the same dark shade of red as Carol’s minimal outfit, and in her right, of all things, a cheap plastic battery-operated clock. It was black in colour and carried out its function of ticking the present into the past with noisy insistence. She strode over, her high heeled boots clicking decisively against the dungeon floor, and placed this last eccentric item on top of the whipping bench. Kate performed this act with exaggerated ceremony, as if it were the crown jewels themselves she was handling.

‘What have we here?’ Chloe asked, her emerald green eyes narrowing with amusement.

‘I’ve had an idea for a game we can play to christen this new dungeon,’ Kate said. ‘I’ve called it “Last slave standing”.’

‘Tell us more,’ Carol said, running a hand through her short blonde hair.

‘The idea is that we three dommes all swap subs and then, each in turn, do our damnedest to make our assigned slave climax, using a devilish mixture of pain and pleasure,’ Kate replied. ‘The slaves must do their best to resist and the one who manages to retain his erection the longest, as timed on that clock over there, will be the winner. What do you think?’

‘I like it,’ Carol said.

‘Me too,’ Chloe added, a crooked gleam in her eye. ‘I couldn’t have dreamed up anything more diabolical myself if I’d tried. Are there any particular ground rules?’

‘No gags or blindfolds allowed,’ Kate replied. ‘And we all start our turn in the same place – with our slave’s up-stretched arms attached by the wrists to the cuffs at the end of those two ceiling chains.’ She pointed to the centre of the dungeon where two adjacent chains with leather cuff attachments were hanging, approximately two feet apart. ‘Also, the only disciplinary implement we can use is this one.’ She held up the dark red whip. ‘Beyond that, anything goes. We’ll determine who gets which slave and so on with a quick game of dice.’

The first roll of the dice gave Chloe her choice of slave. She chose Jay, leaving Carol with Mark, and Kate with Paul. Another roll of the dice made Kate the clock watcher except when it was her turn to torment Paul, and a final couple of shakes of the dice determined that Carol and Mark would go first, then Kate and Paul, and last but not least, Chloe and Jay.

Only at this point did it occur to Kate – too late to do anything about it – that she might unwittingly have set Jay up to fail in this game, and she regretted that. It was true that she and he had been on the local fetish scene for about four years by then and were thus by no means novices. The other two couples, however, had been on that scene well before they’d arrived and were arguably its most experienced players. Added to that, both couples were in 24/7 fem dom relationships whereas Kate and Jay were “part-timers”.

There were other problems for Jay too: that final roll of the dice had determined he’d be the last of the slaves to be tormented, which psychologically was the worst place to be in this particular game because he would know what time he had to exceed in order to win. Also, Chloe was notoriously relentless when tormenting a sub and Jay was the least experienced of the three slaves. Things didn’t look good for him, Kate thought. He was between a rock and a hard place, you might say. Correction, he was between his
cock
and a hard place. But, hell, it was only a game, wasn’t it?

Anyway, while it was certainly the case that Jay was deeply masochistic and submissive, that didn’t make him a weakling; far from it. There was a strain of dogged determination in his character that Kate had always found admirable and which had already paid major dividends in his career. She thought it could perhaps work to his advantage on this occasion too. So, on reflection, she told herself, there was still everything to play for, as far as Jay was concerned, in this sadistic game of her own devising.

Kate watched Carol stride with measured steps over to Mark and take him to the centre of the dungeon. She was struck anew by Carol’s great beauty, her lovely face pale and luminous in the half light of the dungeon. She was similarly struck by what a fantastic body she had, with her full, firm breasts tipped with dark nipples that seemed always to be aroused, her shapely thighs and her prominent, hairless mound. Kate had developed a real liking for giving and receiving cunnilingus ever since Chloe and she had started having regular sex together. And she’d become especially partial to Carol’s delicious pussy as soon as she and Paul had begun joining them regularly in Chloe’s dungeon for their outrageously full-on BDSM sex sessions.

Kate greatly respected Carol as a dominatrix too, because of her exceptionally practiced skills. There was also a real aura she carried with her, a sadistic sensuality, which she communicated with her big piercing blue eyes that managed to be both sultry and cruel. She was a force to be reckoned with, there was no doubt about that.

Mark put his arms above his head and Carol attached his wrists to the cuffs on the ends of the two ceiling chains. She stood to his front and masturbated him for a while, her fingers expertly playing the length of his pulsing shaft, before suddenly moving her hands to his chest. She squeezed both of his nipples at the same time, tightening fingers and thumbs over them so hard that it made his handsome face grimace with pain.

Carol then walked round to position herself behind Mark, her unbound breasts jiggling above her tight corset and her shapely thighs rubbing together as she moved. She told him to bend forward as far as the chains would allow. ‘Time for a spanking,’ she said gleefully before raising her hand high and bringing it down with a hard slap on his taut, curved backside. She raised it again and brought it down a second time as swiftly and as hard as the first stroke and then kept on spanking him. Each of Carol’s smacks landed like an explosion and smarted vividly. They steadily accumulated, becoming an angry red heat that suffused Mark’s backside.

Next Carol switched to the leather flogger, which she used remorselessly on his already punished rear. The flogger hissed noisily when she swung it through the air before landing with a sharp crack that resounded around the dark dungeon. Mark felt the harsh sting of the flogger time and time again as Carol swung it through the air faster and faster. Tremors of pleasure-pain began to run through him, his backside now crimson from its punishment. By the time Carol stopped, he was trembling with searing pain that also felt like the most exquisite pleasure.

Carol detached Mark from the ceiling chains and told him to get onto his knees. His erection hung stiffly between his thighs as he knelt down. He was breathing fast and trembling noticeably. ‘Lick the stiletto heeled boot I am pointing at, slave,’ Carol said brusquely, gesturing with an elegant hand towards her right foot. ‘Worship it with your mouth.’ Mark obeyed without hesitation, bending his head forward and pressing his lips against the pointed toe of the red boot. He slid his eager tongue along the leather, his lips caressing the smoothness of it.

‘Lie on your back,’ Carol ordered next, her blue eyes glittering like cut glass. ‘Suck the heels of my boots.’ Again, Mark obeyed instantly, his now hugely engorged shaft rearing obscenely in the air. Mark sucked first one and then the other of the long, shiny red daggers that were Carol’s stiletto heels as she presented them to him in turn. He was utterly absorbed in this ritual, concentrating intently on worshipping her high heels.

Mark’s climax came all of sudden, taking him unawares, Carol quickly moved her boot away from his face to his crotch and dug its heel against his erection. The sharp pain combined straight away with the delirious pleasure of orgasm. Mark called out, a wordless explosion of anguish and desire, as he spurted his climax across her heel. She brought the heel back to his lips. There was no need to wait for her command; he took the hard point of her heel in his mouth, sucking off his come and swallowing it down as his erection began to subside.

‘Thirty minutes, give or take a second or two,’ Kate announced and asked Chloe if she would monitor the clock. She added with undisguised relish, ‘It’s my turn now and I can hardly wait.’ Kate’s sleek, exquisitely shaped body, flawless in its near-nudity, moved with feline grace as she led Paul on his knees to the centre of the dungeon.

Kate really liked Paul. She thought he was as beautiful in his own way as his Mistress Carol. He turned her on as much as she did, as well, and she loved sodomising him with one or other of her strap-ons during their dungeon games or having him lick her pussy, something at which he was particularly skilled.

Paul’s body was lithe and lean, his physique smooth, and there was a sparkle in his dark eyes that was very sexy. He had a lovely boyish grin too, one that belied his years – not that she intended to give him anything to smile about on this occasion.

Kate secured Paul’s wrists to the ceiling chains above his head. She took hold of the dark red flogger and whipped his chest first, each blow stinging and sharp. It made him squirm and cringe in his bonds. She whipped his backside after that. Every skilfully aimed lash struck his rear in a regular rhythm and the pain bit deep. She showered him with blows until his backside was covered in vivid welts and the pain – and pleasure – he felt had become intense.

Kate detached Paul from the ceiling chains and told him to get on his knees. ‘Lick me to orgasm while pulling on your cock,’ she told him. At the same time that Paul grasped his erection and began masturbating, he buried his face in Kate’s sex, which was wet with passion. Paul snaked out his tongue and began moving it around her clitoris, licking it and licking it, while continuing to tug on the hardness of his shaft in smooth, regular movements. Kate opened her quivering thighs to let his sinuous tongue enter her sex more fully. Paul sucked Kate’s juices, plunging his tongue into her pussy as far as it would go, setting the fire raging in her, as he continued to pull rhythmically at his shaft. She let out a low moan of release as he brought her cresting to a shuddering climax.

Kate allowed herself the briefest of moments to compose herself – time was of the essence in this game, after all – before leading Paul over to the horizontal torture chair and telling him to get on it, flat on his back. She swiftly buckled his wrists behind his head, his knees right up and his legs wide apart. His throbbing shaft and the puckered opening of his anus, all pink and clean and ready for her, both looked extremely inviting to Kate in that position.