Driving my rental car back from Cov’s – Earnie’s Mistress – I glanced frequently at Hillary in the seat next to me. She was nude, but I’d left her wrists unbound, instead of cuffed behind the headrest like they’d been on the trip out. She’d been subdued the whole day, since I accepted the group decision that she would be the one to accompany me. She’d been compliant – that was the best word – in giving me some background on her former friend, and then taking the part I’d instructed in the event itself.
She’d turned downright pensive afterwards, when she’d knelt beside me while I discussed Earnie’s future with her owners, Cov and Hun. Earnie’s _short_ future.
“Talk to me,” I said, about halfway home. “What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing.” Her voice was flat, and she stared straight forward.
I checked the mirrors – I’d been doing so even more regularly than I’d been looking at my slave: Driving on the wrong side of the road was going to take some getting used to – for traffic before looking at her again. “Oh?”
“Nothing, _Master_” stressing the title.
I braced myself against the wheel and slammed on the brakes, throwing her forward into her seatbelt, and then sped up again, throwing her back.
“Lying to me is bad,” I said as I steadied the car again. “I’ll punish you worse if I catch you in a lie than if you say something I don’t like. Now what’s bothering you?”
“You’re going to eat her?” She still didn’t look at me, but at least her voice had some emotion in it.
“Yes, a slice or two. Just to see what it’s like.”
“But that’s cannibalism,”
“Only technically. Legally, I suspect I’d cause more offence eating roast beef in a Hindu temple.”
She was quiet for another couple of miles. But it was a different quiet to earlier.
“It’s real, isn’t it? You could to exactly the same to one of us,” she whispered very quietly.
“Yes it is, and yes I could.”
***
Arriving home, I set Hillary to preparing dinner, and quickly padded down to the basement to see how my other two slaves were getting on.
The basement of my new home was very much a product of the last seven or so years. There were attachment points all over the place, and a movable pulley system like a mechanic’s chain hoist on tracks from the ceiling. There was also a heavy diagonal cross – a Saint Andrew’s, I think it’s called – built into the wall
Most of the fittings had been stripped by the previous owner, but the most permanent installations had been left in place. I’d taken a couple of photos on our shopping trip the day before, in order to get some advice in refitting everything, and the manager of the local slave outfitters had recognised it instantly – he’d done most of the original installation work.
With his help, I‘d brought most of what I’d needed to bring my dungeon back up to scratch, and had orders in for the rest. It was certainly enough to provide Noreen and Tia with sufficient ‘entertainment’ while I was out.
Tia was strapped tightly into the cross, cuffed ankles and wrists pulled out with ropes threaded through pulleys at the tip of each arm. Most of her weight was being supported by wide leather straps around her thighs and waist. Her breasts were squashed flat between two balsawood boards. Not tightly, but enough so that she would feel it s something tugged on them.
That something was a rope that passed down between he legs, behind the cross, up through a series of guides to the ceiling, along to the hoist and down. To Noreen’s wrists.
Noreen was positioned in the middle of the room, her feet spread wide in a set of ‘ankle stocks’ and bent over at the hip because her arms were bound together behind her back and lifted away from her in a classic strappado.
It was a nicely tuned little system. To avoid pulling on Tia’s breasts, Noreen had to lift her arms above a point that she could hold for very long. Conversely, Tia could pull on her wrist ropes and cause the cleverly built cross to sink on springs and create just enough slack to give Noreen a respite. The tension in the springs could be adjusted, and I’d set it – after some trial and error – so that she should hold it about the same length of time as Noreen could raise her arms.
At neither extreme should the bondage seriously damage either woman, although I expected Tia’s chest to be tender for a while.
To mix things up a little, both women wore ring gags and had electronic dildos inserted that randomly varied from pain to pleasure.
As a last, and probably cruel, touch, I’d had them bring one of the new televisions downstairs and it was looping a DVD that I’d quickly put together the previous night from the promotional videos for some of the goods I’d brought from the slave outfitters and some training movies.
As I arrived, the programme was just finishing “Basic Passive Sodomy” and beginning the promotional spiel for the various lethal collars offered by the supplier. There were a surprising number of ways to die from a collar around your neck and the video showed all of them.
Everyone was familiar with the ‘greater’ explosive collars that blew a slave’s head right off, but there were also the ‘lesser’ explosive collars that used a much smaller charge to blow out the throat or spine. There were collars that used a fine wire to garrotte the victim, and ones that used a broader metal band to choke them to death. Overcharged electric shock collars could do the job, too, and there were poisons, venoms and even acids for the more exotically inclined.
I’d had one of the store slaves explain them all in detail to my slaves, and they paled when I chose one of the exotics. Tetrodotoxin – Puffer fish poison – was one of the more painful and messy ways to go, the store slave explained, with the victim often remaining conscious through increasing gastric distress and then paralysis over the course of four to six hours. The promo showed a strongly sanitised version of this, but I had a full length movie record from exposure to expiry that I was saving for a penultimate warning.
I checked my watch and decided that this was the third time they would have seen this, so I reached for the remote that I’d left by the door.
The movement attracted Tia’s attention, and she called out an obvious, if incomprehensible, plea to be let down.
That caught Noreen’s notice and she twisted to see who was there, which, of course pulled on the rope. I laughed and slipped out of my clothes as Tia yelped and Noreen groaned in frustration.
Naked, I wandered slowly across the room, paused for a rope-jerking slap on Noreen’s ass and stopped in front of Tia. A quick examination reassured me that there didn’t seem to be any significant damage and I unclipped the rope from the boards, letting it fall to the ground.
“Nearly done,” I told her as I reached down between her legs to flip switch on the dildo from random to pleasure. She shuddered as the toy began its gentle stimulation.
Noreen felt the tension release as the rope fell and was beginning to straighten up when I picked up the rope and pulled it painfully taut again. “Not quite yet,” I called out to her. “Hold position for a couple of minutes.”
I picked up the claw/hook that I’d used to thread the rope through the ceiling pulleys and unthreaded it again, back to the last pulley above Noreen. I flipped her dildo to pleasure, then grabbed to rope and pulled her wrists far enough up to force her to bend till her head was at the level of my crotch.
My intent when I stepped in front of her was obvious, and she went to work immediately, wiggling the opening of the ring gag to get it over the head of my penis, then laving her tongue liberally over everything it could reach.
It was unfair, I suppose: Earnestine had left me drained. Still, I managed a stand, so I pulled out and, stripping the rope down through the last pulley, undid the ankle stocks and led her over and used it to secure her to one of the padded horses.
Out of perverse whim, I left the dildo in place as I lubed up her sphincter and forced my way past. Yeesss, much more comfortable than the virginally tight Earnie.
I could feel the bulk of the toy filling her other orifice, but not its more subtle electrical effects, as I started o saw in and out to the rhythm of Noreen’s grunts. Unless that was a slight tingle, just at the sensitive spot on the underside of my cock?
Wow! I DID feel it when the dildo started vibrating! I started pounding harder and faster and then lost all control when Noreen orgasmed and squeezed her asshole tight. I came hard and shot what little semen I’d been able to regenerate into her colon.
“_That_, I liked,” I whispered in her ear as I undid all of her bondage and helped her upright, and then made her squirm by running my tongue into her ear.
Releasing her with a playful slap on the butt, we proceeded to release her fellow slave.
“Si, thank you patron,” were her first words as I removed the gag. I waited until her dildo brought her to another orgasm and then released the boards on her breasts at its peak. Her moan started to turn into a gasp, but reverted to a moan as I licked, and then gently sucked her right nipple. Motioning Noreen to join me, we spent a couple of minutes soothing her abused flesh before continuing.
Bracing myself in front of her, I had Noreen undo the waist belt, and then release the arm ropes so that she flopped down onto me, wrapping me in a tight embrace while Noreen freed her legs. Tia leaned her whole weight on me briefly before getting her feet under her. I used the opportunity to give her a good hug as I let her go.
“So, my pretties, did you learn anything?”
They both nodded and Noreen added “But you tied me down too tightly to try anything.”
“You’ll get another chance, but it’s Tia’s turn tonight. You’re in the pussy eating hogtie.”