Two Weeks to Survive

Master Patryk derives great pleasure wielding absolute control over the slave. He exerts his dominance without physical restraints, knowing that power is best wielded through self-humiliation and debasement. In this session, the Vice Chairman has decided to explore his most perverted fantasy ... mating his man-animal with the girl.

Several years ago while exploring the remote island, Master Patryk discovered a colony of humans living in a heavily forested area. Their bodies are covered in hair, faces deformed, yet they possess amazing agility and communicate effectively. The colony reminded him of paintings depicting Petrus Gonzales in 1648, the first recorded case of hypertrichosis.

For weeks, he watched the group with morbid fascination. They communicate using an undetermined dialect, and live much like a remote primitive tribe, having a distinct blend of human and animal traits. They make and use archaic tools, discipline their young as their civilized human counterparts discipline a child, and train the young on life skills such as building shelter, hunting, food preparation.

Capturing a young male, he spent the past several years training its animal side to respond like a domestic pet responds to its owner. Now at sexual maturity, he wants to teach the creature's human side how to dominate and fuck slaves, and this girl is perfect for this purpose.

* * * *

Master Patryk looms over my body, observes my fear, and quietly calculates his next move.

His eyes bore into mine. My shoulders tense, my stomach tightens. A sense of dread washes through me.

He grasps my swollen breasts, his large hand kneading each like lumps of bread dough. Sinking his fingers deeper into my tissue, he pulls me to his groin, his cock aimed at my lips.

Instinctively, I poke my tongue and lick him base to tip, wetting the entire length. Cautiously, I suck the tip, circling the mushroom head with my tongue, lapping the leaking pre-cum as it surfaces. Lifting my eyes to his, he grins like a wolf about to slaughter a new-born lamb, and then he plunges into my mouth. Every inch of his manhood rests at the back of my throat and holds steady, then pushes deeper and moves my tonsils aside. Pressing farther, he completely blocks the entrance to my esophagus, until my airway widens, never breaking eye contact.

His large hands have a firm grip around each breast and my flesh is white where his fingertips dig into the breast meat. My nipples harden like rocks against the palm of each hand. Once again, he slams his cock down my throat, using my breasts as leverage. Withdrawing, he plunges again until my nose is buried in the musty forest of his crotch hair and his heavy balls drape over my chin.

His cock swells, and he grunts and groans louder as each stroke tunnels deeper down my throat. His momentum increases and thrusts longer, propelling my body backward. His rhythm and pounding intensify, his face etched with incredible determination.

Hungry for his gift, I recklessly push my mouth to meet his thrusts, whiplashing my head with each impact. Pleasure surges within my belly in anticipation of receiving his precious sperm. I feel him teetering on the brink of release and increase my suction and swallowing. The friction of his thrusts are frenetic, urgent. Our fluids co-mingle and heat mounts between our linked bodies.

He abruptly stops and withdraws from my mouth. His cock is bright red, fully engorged, his balls hang heavily between his muscled thighs. The moment ends. The room stands still. Silence ensures for several seconds.

He stares into my eyes with an intense, fear provoking gaze.

Short rapid gusts of air partially fill my lungs and expel quickly, making my bound breasts quiver like Jell-O.

He picks up two thick leather bands, both covered with pointy studs that project outwards. He buckles each to my thighs, the left band a few inches below my pelvic bone, and the right band a few inches beneath the left. The thigh studs pierce my flesh and instinctively, I fall into a squat to separate the sharp points from my skin. Tiny droplets of blood surface where a few of the studs broke the skin.

"These straps are a training tool to remind you to keep your legs spread wide regardless of what position you are in or what you are doing. Sluts must always have their legs open wide for accessibility. Later, you will be taught how to walk and crawl gracefully with your thigh straps."

He cups my face in his hands and kisses me hard. "Your sole existence is for the pleasure of men. You as a tool to use in pursuit of our pleasures, our amusements, our perversions." He chuckles and my fear of him builds.

"On the conference table are nipple and clit clamps. Attach each one, raise it high above your shoulder, and then drop it."

Legs spread wide, I carefully waddle to the table.

The clamps have heavy cylinder-shaped weights attached. Examining the first clamp, I attach it to my left nipple, raise it, and take a deep breath, cradling the air inside my lungs in an effort to delay the inevitable. Expelling slowly through my mouth, I release the weight. A split second later, sharp pain engulfs my nipple and my body cringes but I remain silent.

Grasping my right nipple, attaching the clamp, I take another slow deep breath, hold it, and then quickly exhale. The second weight drops filling my chest cavity with incredible pain, but maintain my silence.

The panic of the known is worse than the unknown, but nothing prepared me for the final clamp. I cannot seem to muster the courage to attach it to my clit. Dutifully reconciling my zero options, I pinch my clit and stretch it until it becomes a hard thick point. Fingers shaking from the tension in the clamps, I poise the clamp at the flattened base and look at the Vice Chairman knowing the inevitability of compliance.

Steeling myself, I fill my lungs with oxygen. I bring the clawed teeth closer and release the springs, jumping as the clamp flattens the base of my clit. One more step; release the weight. The weight slips from my fingertips, drops heavily to the end of the chain, and swings nearly a foot above the ground. Air explodes from my lungs. Tortured screams echo within the glass enclosure. My legs buckle and I fall to the floor in an agonizing crumple.

My body twists and turns in absolute anguish while attempting to support the three weights in my hands.

The Vice Chairman gives me a cold stony glare to express his displeasure.

He slips an O-ring behind my teeth and widens it until my mouth is a gaping hole outlined by my crimson-red lipstick. He leads me crawling to the low leather-covered beam. The weights drag on the floor beneath me and the thigh strips poke holes in the flesh between my legs. He guides me face down, parting my breasts and arranging the weights to straddle the sides, each hovering a few inches above the floor. He binds my wrists underneath at the beam's A-frame head, and fastens my ankles to each end of the back supporting legs.

The large glass door opens and a short husky figure enters. He half-walks half-crawls towards me, eyes bulging with an undefined hunger. He is covered head-to-toe with an abnormal amount of long thick body hair and his face is disfigured, resembling pictures of a humanized ape-man. Between his legs dangles a massive black and crusty semi-hard cock.

The creature is more a feral animal than human. He wastes little time approaching me, half crawling, half walking around my body as he considers what to do. His fingers poke and pinch different parts. Spittle drools from his mouth as he leans closer and inhales my aroma. Pre-cum drips from his erect cock.

His smile conjures images of a vile predator surveying his prey. Chipped yellow teeth protrude from his mouth, and a crusty tongue flicks hungrily between his fat hairy lips. Leathery skin looks sun baked and he smells wild, dirty, musty. His hairy hands bat curiously at my dangling breast, stretched to a pointed cone by the weights. His face lights up watching the shiny weight swing when he slaps at my breast. The clamp slides off my nipple as he grasps the weight and examines it.

Master Patryk guides the creature's hand to my breast again and demonstrates how to maul and abuse the doughy mass. Stepping back, the man mimics the Vice Chairman, gingerly pulling my breast and digging his fingers deeply into my flesh. Using both hands, he twists my breast like he is squeezing water from clothing. The skin on my breast forms three rolls, and as he continues to wind tighter, crinkles into smaller lumps of skin until it is a series of circular lines of compressed skin.

Master Patryk leads the creature to the head of the beam, and helps him straddle it until his cock rests on the cool hard wood. Tentatively, he inches his cock towards my opened mouth.

I reach out with my tongue and lick the tip.

The creature quickly backs away.

He milks his cock in his rough hand and then straddles the beam again. Aimed directly at my waiting mouth, he slides his cock into the warm moist opening. He seems unsure of what to do next so he stares at his partially hidden cock.

It expands in length and width between my lips, constantly pulsing and throbbing.

He withdraws and seems intrigued with the trail of thick saliva and pre-cum that links my mouth to his cock.

My eyes widen at the impressive size of his hardened steel cock.

He plunges inside with a long stroke, fast until it rests at the back of my throat.

I circle the cock with my tongue and am surprised that I am not gagging. He partially withdraws and I slip my tongue over my lower lip and across his balls. He jumps back, surprised by the sensation. Thrusting his cock upwards on my face, his balls drop into my opened mouth. He feeds each one to me just as a mother bird feeds her young, dropping each into my mouth to lick and suck. They contract and expand, and pleasure shudders through his body.

His breath comes in short, rapid gasps as he plunges fully to the back of my throat again. His balls slap against my chin. He caresses my body with his furry hands and lightly scratch my flesh with his long nails.

He gently feeds his cock in and out of my mouth, and coats my throat with thick pre-cum.

My saliva thickly coats his furry crotch. My cunt oozes juices. I crave the pleasure his cock will bring me when or if he enters my cunt or ass.

He spreads his legs wider for balance and continues long slow strokes in and out of my mouth. He watches in amazement as his manhood slides back and forth, his dark cock penetrating my pale face and crimson red lips.

He tastes human, maybe a bit more salty.

His pace increases and his cock quivers in my mouth.

Master Patryk pulls him away and guides him to the other side of the beam. He straddles the wood and slips his cock into my drenched cunt. A long deep howling sound escapes from his throat.

He thrusts recklessly into my cunt, greedily pounding my cervix. His balls slap my clit and the beam rocks from his powerful lunges. He drops onto my back, buries his face in my hair, and deeply inhales my scent. Hot breath tickles the nape of my neck.

He moves using only one speed. Evolution and instinct seems come alive inside him. Survival dictates that he rushes to expel his load inside me. He fucks as fast as he can, building a brutal rhythm, thrusting deep, hitting places in my tunnel that have never before been touched. And the way it hurts is wonderful.

Eagerly, I meet his lunges while sensations magnify in my belly. I thrust my hips to meet his cock and grind my backside into his groin.

The Vice Chairman thrusts his cock in my mouth, and slides easily to my tonsils. He grabs my hair and pulls my face to the base of his belly.

I swallow him, squeezing his cock with my throat muscles. His tip swells with unspent semen. Faster, he pumps, hammering from the tip of his cock to the base of his groin while the man-ape fucks my cunt.

The here and now ceases to exist as sensations in my belly escalate. Pressure from the man-ape's plunges, his fur tickling my skin, the tightness of his hairy paws wrapped around my waist blends with the Vice Chairman fucking my mouth, all bringing my orgasm inexplicably closer.

My cunt contracts tightly around the man-ape's cock. My throat locks onto the Vice Chairman's cock. My body squeezes both and holds each a prisoner within my body. I am determined to milk them of all their juices as they eagerly fill my body.

A feeling of exhilaration consumes me. The cocks are a conduit propelling me into the abyss. Sensations soar; the pounding, thrusting, plunging of the men sends me closer to my final destination. I am nearly to the brink with a ferocious fire burning within my belly as I grunt, moan, and wail.

Powerful streams of liquid fills my cunt and throat. The searing heat of semen transports me to a glorious state of ecstasy. My minds-eye travels into a paradise overflowing with pleasure. My cunt contracts and squeezes the cock. My throat clenches and swallows Master Patryk.

Thrusting my hips backwards, I try to trap the magnificent cock in my cunt as I hungrily lap at the softening cock in my mouth.

A warm, slick sheen of perspiration coats my skin, my inhuman guttural sounds compete with the man-ape's grunts.

His howling subsides but his weight presses heavily on me while his large claws scratch at my flesh.

My beaten pussy welcomes this hard fucking. Our juices co-mingle and ooze like hot lava flowing from a volcano. I am breathless as my orgasm subsides. The man-ape withdraws, wraps his arms around my bound body, and licks the sweat from my skin. His display of affection is uncanny as our breathing evens and our bodies go limp.

The Vice Chairman attempts to pull the man-ape off me but is rebuffed with low, threatening growls. He steps away and calls for assistance on the intercom. Two men enter my enclosure and the three have a brief discussion. One man leaves and returns shortly with a fresh thick raw steak, luring the man-ape out the large door and into the dark archway.

CHAPTER THREE

The butler releases me and fills the claw-footed tub with steamy scented water. Wielding a stiff bristle brush, he thoroughly scrubs my body until my skin glows bright red and is hypersensitive when touched. Sitting at the dressing table facing the mirror, I watch in fascination as he brushes and styles my long red hair, each brush stroke gently relaxes my mind and body and allays my fears. He fashions small ringlets to frame my face, then expertly applies my makeup.

He squeezes a tight-fitting bone-corset around my middle. Pushing me forward and face down over the bed, he pulls the corset strings tight until I can barely breathe and laces them securely. The underwire shoves my breasts upwards; the lace extends just below my waist, and a spaghetti-string thong, thigh-high nylons and heels, all colored blood-red.

Working with near surgical precision, he slides a large butt plug between my lips and moves it around my mouth, slowly running it along the inside of my cheeks, the roof of my mouth, and along my tongue. The long soft hair extending from the base of the plug caresses my breasts with feather-soft touches, my nipples harden and thicken. After inserting the lubed plug in my ass, he pushes two small Ben Wa balls deep into my cunt, my body shudders from the hard cold metal invading my hot canal. Crouching between my thighs, he positions a small butterfly vibrator directly on my excited clit and fastens it to the inside of my thong with a clamp.

Standing back to examine his work, he presses the remote and the vibrator springs to life, startling me with the powerful pulsations. He buckles a thick leather collar around my neck with several rings attached.

Gently, he guides me to the conference table area of the enclosure and hands me an empty gilded serving tray with thin gold chains on all four corners. As he connects the chains to my collar, he reassures me.

"The chains support the tray should you lose your grip when serving your masters."

Not finished yet, he attaches clover-leaf clamps to each nipple and fastens those chains to my collar, bending my nipples upwards.

A bartender enters wheeling a cart stocked with beverages and parks near me. Soon after, the group of impeccably-dressed DOMs solemnly enter in single file and take a seat in the twelve executive chairs. The bartender instructs me to collect drink orders and tosses a small pad of paper and pen on my tray. My thong is soaked with juices, the stimulation of the clit vibrator keeps me in a constant state of arousal.

I start with the Chairman at the head of the table. He pulls on the nipple chains, igniting tiny bursts of pain. He reaches between my legs and slaps my cunt several times, and feeds me his fingers to lick my fluid coating his hand and then gives me his beverage order.

Sir David, son of the President of the Republic of Mozambique, is next. He pushes away from the table, bends me over his lap until the serving tray hangs near the floor. He partially yanks the butt plug out and fucks my opening before selecting his drink.

King Osamu, Director of Port Authority for the island, leans me over the table with the serving tray resting under the table's edge. He slaps my butt several times each cheek, reaches between my legs and forces his thumb into my cunt to check my wetness, and then dictates his beverage preference.

Sir Sinan, Director of Legal Services for the island, lifts my leg to straddle his lap facing him. He kisses me directly on my mouth running his tongue between my lips and teeth, a long wet sexy kiss. Pushing me away, he straightens his suit jacket and orders his drink.

Sir Madan, Director of Island Government Operations, guides my face to his unzipped crotch. Reaching my hand inside, I set it free and slurp it to the back of my throat. He shoves my head up and down the stem several times and then lifts my face to his, spits in my mouth, and tells me his drink choice.

Doctor Kaden, Assistant Director, Medical Services, slides several fingers in my cunt, moving the Ben Wa balls around my canal. My cunt lips are so wet and swollen and aroused, his fingers feel wonderful inside me. He feeds me his drenched fingers and I happily lick my juices from his hand as he dictates his drink choice.

A raging inferno roars deep in my belly. Threads of moisture trickle from the puffy folds of my cunt lips, flowing down between my thighs and soaking into the top of my stockings. How long can I last? How much more can I take before I just give in and fuck myself, consequences be damned. This relentless state of horniness, constantly hovering on the edge of climax is driving me crazy, making me want to beg to perform unspeakable acts in exchange for release.

The Vice Chairman, Master Patryk, slaps my face several times, hard smacks that propel my face to one side or the other from the impact. My cheeks sting and my eyes tear. He jerks the chains suspending my nipples and wakes them up from their numbness with a piercing pain. Sporting a wicked grin, he pulls my clit and twists it back and forth before whispering his cocktail choice.

Prince Naolin, Director of DOM and Slave Education Services, bends me slightly forward and slaps the outside of my breasts, crashing one into the other, the serving tray and my nipples sway like a pendulum with each slap, back and forth. As much as it hurts, it also feels good. He finally pushes me away and chooses his beverage.

Doctor Hamidi, Director of Medical Services, removes the nipple clamps and sucks each nipple until the flattened bud reshapes into stretched pencil erasers. He grabs my left nipple, squeezes it, sinks his teeth into it, and does the same to my right, finally his cocktail choice in between the bites.