Slave Ella Ch. 02 - Party Preparation

Throughout the day I visited Ella in her cage every hour, as I had told her I would. With every visit she became a little more agitated as I entered the library, both anticipating and dreading the arousal and denial to come. On each visit she became inflamed quicker and more intensely, so that of necessity each visit became shorter: I had no intention of spoiling my pleasure by giving her an accidental orgasm. On some visits I would use my fingers to manipulate her, putting three or sometimes four fingers inside her while massaging her clit with my thumb until I felt her body begin to tremble with approaching orgasm, when I would stop immediately; on other visits I would just rub her clit while moving her buttplug in and out, in and out. Such was the level of her arousal that even such simple anal manipulation was enough to bring her to the point of coming, but again I stopped well short of allowing her to achieve climax.

By the early afternoon my own arousal was such that I brought her out of her cage, made her kneel before me as I sat in a hard-backed chair, and tit-fucked her. I would have loved to fuck her arse, but worried that it would give her too much stimulation. As it was, I took a tube of lubricant with me on that visit, a riding crop and nipple clamps joined by a chain.

I uncuffed her hands and instructed her to push her tits together; then I clamped her nipples, drizzled the valley between her tits with lubricant and pushed my cock between them.

"Jerk your tits up and down around my shaft until I come," I told her, and she instantly obeyed without question, like the well-trained slave she was, the chain of the nipples clamps jangling and clinking. After a few minutes, for extra stimulation, I removed her ballgag.

"Stick your tongue out and lick the tip of my cock." A short while later; "Now suck the head of my cock. Wrap your lips around it and use your tongue also." Now the suction from her mouth was on and around my glans, her eager tongue was flicking all around it, and her tits were still working up and down the shaft. Her nipples looked sore and swollen from the pegs they had endured earlier, and now the vicious tight clamps. Too bad. I leaned over, and casually smacked her left buttock hard with the riding crop.

"Faster," I instructed, and she did as she was told. If her arms were getting tired she didn't show it - or perhaps she knew that any failure to please would result in ten or twenty strokes of the cane, and that would hurt a lot more for a lot longer than tired arms. Also, of course, any failure in her duty would have extended her period of orgasm denial even longer: as it was she had not been allowed to come for five days, and although this was nowhere near the record - currently seven weeks - I could tell that she was growing desperate for release.

As I felt about to come, I stood from the chair. "Use your right hand to jerk me off into your mouth." Her left hand went behind her back, its default position when not being used, and her right hand slid rapidly up and down my glistening, lubricated shaft. She opened her mouth and put out her tongue, and I erupted in long streams of ejaculate into her mouth, over her tongue and chin, breathing hard. Without needing to be told she swallowed it all down like the good slave she was.

"All of it," I said, and she scooped up with her fingers what had splashed onto her chin, sucked her fingers, and swallowed that too.

"Suck me clean," I instructed again, as I had that morning, and she obeyed, taking my softening cock into her mouth and gently sucking it until there was no race of semen left.

I replaced the ballgag once more: "Now back in your cage."

An hour later I was back again, probing with my fingers, stroking with my thumb...

My guests were due at 8 o'clock. At 7 o'clock I took Ella from her cage, leashed her, and she crawled behind me to the cellar.

It was large for a cellar, though perhaps not quite big enough to be described as a dungeon. The previous owner of the house had used it as a wine store, but I didn't (and don't) drink; I owe it to my slaves as well as myself to stay in sober control at all times. I had removed the wine racks, and replaced them with furniture more suited to my own hobbies and interests. The cellar was easily tall enough to stand up in, and spacious enough for two small couches, arranged to face a whipping cross, a bondage and spanking stool, a suspension frame, a sybian and a set of stocks. Metal armatures stood around, each ending with a dildo, for machine fucking a captive slave. Racks on the walls held an even larger selection of whips, lashes, dildos, vibrators and so on than the cupboard in the bedroom. In addition there were various harnesses, strap-ons and the like. All cleaned regularly by Ella while I sat in one of the couches and supervised.

I unleashed Ella. "Up," I ordered, and she climbed to her feet. She automatically crossed her arms behind her back, and I gently prodded her forward until she stood before the cross. First one arm, and then the other, I raised and attached to the cross's upper arms, then her legs to the lower.

"Time for a larger gag, I think," I said. I unbuckled the small overnight gag she had been wearing all day, tossed it into the wash basket, and chose a bar gag from one of the racks, like a horse's bit used for ponygirl training.

"And a larger buttplug too." I spread her cheeks and gently teased out the rather modest buttplug she had been wearing since the day before, attached a spreader bar to her ankles, a perpendicular metal bar from that, attached a short fat dildo to the end of it, inserted it into her rectum, and adjusted the length of the metal bar so it fitted tightly.

I had intended to leave her there like that until my guests arrived, but she looked so invitingly helpless I couldn't resist taking a light swish down from one of the racks and gently thrashing her butt cheeks, to get us both warmed up. I didn't do it too hard - I didn't want to mark her and let my guests to know I'd started without them - but it had the desired effect: I could see Ella's pussy lips flaring and moistening with arousal as her arse clenched around the squat dildo every time the swish landed on her defenceless buttocks.

I replaced the swish on the rack, returned to Ella and reached around from behind her, taking a breast in each hand and squeezing each nipple hard so she winced in pain.

"Are you going to be a good slave tonight?" I asked her, "Are you going to do everything you're told to by my guests?"

"Yes master," she whimpered around the gag. Of course it hadn't been necessary to ask - I had trained Ella for years to unquestioningly and instantly obey any order given her by myself or anyone else to whom I gave authority - but I enjoyed reminding her of her utterly submissive and helpless position. She had never disobeyed an order yet - never even used either of her safe words - and I didn't expect her to begin now; although of course she could, that's what they were for.

I released her nipples and stepped back to the cellar's doorway to admire my handiwork. When my guests entered the cellar the first thing they would see was Ella, her back to us so that we could observe her but she couldn't see us (even if she hadn't been wearing a blindfold), cuffed to the cross, her legs spread wide, a black dildo disappearing into her anus. Ready for flogging, whipping, lashing, tormenting - or anything else our depraved minds could come up with.

The doorbell rang.

"They're here," I said.