Sex Slave Ch. 02

A/N: This is non-consent. If you do not like this type of story-telling, don't read. It's pure fiction.

*****

I unstrap your panting body from the vertical leather table. You are so exhausted from my preparations that you don't even fight me once the cuffs are unclipped from your wrists and ankles. Instead, you sag into me. I chuckle as I position you on the floor. You whimper through your ball-gag as I lock metal chains around your wrists and ankles-after all, I can't leave you unbound for too long; you might begin to think freedom is near if I do such a thing. Once I am finished, you are kneeling on your hands and knees, legs spread.

I can see you are squirming. No doubt the sex noises from the headphones still covering your ears are turning you on. I set up three small stands. Two of the stands are directly under your sagging breasts; the third is below your clit. Once they are in position, I press a button on a remote control, and the implements rise up. The three feathers, each connected securely to its stand, touch your sensitive parts. You still, not sure what is touching you yet. I press a second button on the remote, and the stands begin rotating slowly, brushing the feathers around your nipples and clit. I leave you to your devices for a moment to grab a drink of water. This is hard work, after all.

I wait about fifteen minutes before returning to you. You are squirming as much as the chains will allow you to get more friction on the feathers that are relentlessly tormenting you. Your nipples are hard, and your clit is erect, but the tantalizing instruments don't give you enough to reach any sort of release. They continue to move in slow circles around your nipples and clit, their pace never wavering.

I set up four video cameras on tripods, one in front of your face, one between your legs, and two on either side of your breasts. I want you to be able to see what you look like later, to learn from your mistakes and whatnot. Standing up straight, I look at my masterpiece. It's picturesque, really. You look like a bitch in heat, attempting to hump the tickling feathers to find your release. I take pity on you and press a button on the remote that controls the stands. Instantly, the feathers begin pressing harder against your sensitive areas and are swirling in faster circles. Your breathing picks up, and you are humping more quickly and with more fervor than before. Your face contorts as you begin climbing to your climax. I can see the anticipation in your face-and so will you when you watch yourself on camera later tonight. But I won't allow you to get off so easily-pun intended. I stop the devices just as you were expecting to release all of your pent up frustration from the past half hour. Your groan is melodious.

I tease you a few more minutes with that routine, allowing you to reach the point right before your climax and then taking it all away to hear your glorious grumbles around your ball-gag. Once I have finished messing with you with the feathers, I put the three stands back in their cabinet along with the video cameras. I unchain you, but not before I clasp a leash and collar around your neck. I tug at the leash gently, urging you forward. Uncertain of what I want, you try to push up off the floor, but I slap your delicious ass, reprimanding you. Then it dawns on you. Slowly, hesitantly, you begin to crawl where I lead you.

I see the blush rise to your cheeks and know that you are feeling completely embarrassed by this form of degradation. I lead you up some stairs, through a hall, then up a second flight of stairs. Finally, I open a sliding glass door and lead you onto a balcony. You feel the light breeze and know you're outside. Immediately, you begin backing up, but I have closed the door already.

Although you struggle now, I easily overpower your slim form and position you how I like. Pressing you up against the glass of the sliding door, I connect one wrist to a cuff hanging in the corner of the doorway and then your second wrist in the other corner. I do the same to your ankles, so you're spread eagle and exposed for anyone to see, your backside pushed up against the glass, your front side available for the neighborhood. I tweak your left nipple, the one that is not pierced, and clip a clothespin onto it. I pull out a vibrator and slowly push it into your pussy to the hilt, leaving it on its lowest setting.

Then I remove your blindfold. Your eyes adjust, taking in your surroundings. You're outside, on a porch on the second floor. There's a parking lot directly in front of you with a few cars in it, but no persons are out and about at this time of night. You're lucky. For now.

I take out your ball-gag, and you move your jaw about, relaxing it.

"You can scream if you want," I say, "But I doubt anything will come of it."

I open the sliding door and reenter the room, leaving you on the porch. When the door is closed and locked once more, I can see your ass cheeks smushed against the door. So creamy and beautiful. I can't wait to play with it in an hour.