The metal closed around her wrists. The cold feel of it
so familiar yet still so terrifying as the restriction tightened and her hands
were hoisted above her head. The same coolness embraced her ankles and her
breath hitched in her throat as the cold metal at her ankles became a cold knot
of fear that slid up from her stomach to close thin, icy fingers around her
throat. She fought down the fear, experience helping her to keep her emotions
in check. The crowd were not here to see her fear – once perhaps, that would
have been just what they wanted – but no more. She was S and they wanted
to see her strength, her stamina, not her fear.
Her eyes surveyed the crowd, her gaze never resting on
any one person long enough to determine features or even gender. But then the
breath caught in her throat when she saw him. His cold gaze telling her
of his hunger for her. She knew that he couldn’t be there. That this life was
far removed from the life that he had tried to carve out for her. She knew that
it was just her adrenalin making her see things but still he stared back at her
from the crowd. Sergeant Kent. The man who had started her on this
unbelievable road during one night that had changed her life forever. Police
Sergeant Kent had used his position and threats of worse to come if she didn’t
do as he commanded, to turn her into a tool for his desires and for his own
ends. At best she was a fuck tool, at worst she was an unwilling agent for his
investigations. Investigations that had seen her gain unlawful entry to a
dominant’s home. Thoughts of Gary Marshall, the man who Kent had wanted
her to steal evidence from, made her blink and the man in the crowd morphed
into just another hungry onlooker. A moment later the man beside him shifted
and now it was Marshall who stared at her. He had given her a simple ultimatum,
one that she had seen no choice but to take. A year of making sex films or
return to Kent empty handed. What choice had she truly had? The face morphed
back to the unknown man as another turned and Samuel stared at her. Samuel
Thomas. The man who had stood behind the cameras, directing the abuse that
was heaped upon her, the man who had filmed as the ornate S had been
tattooed into the flesh of her hip and pelvis, the man that she had fallen in
love with. His face faded quicker than the others. There was no place for love
in this world. There was only sex and pain and her extraordinary ability to
handle more of both than the vast majority of slaves. Master Jeffrey had
seen the potential in her. His face did not appear amongst the crowd. A
secretive Master who guarded his privacy as his most precious commodity, she
refused to see his face here. He had treated her more fairly than anyone had in
her entire life. He had been both vicious and cruel but he had shown her
things, made her feel things that no ever had. She might have been tattooed and
abused as a slave, but he had made her a slave, molded her into one who
could find pleasure with the whip. She had been truly happy with the life he
had made for her, but it wasn’t to last. For a time, she felt that he had
broken her heart when he had passed her on to the young Master Jake. But he had
done what was right for them both. Interest was being shown in her, the slave S
was becoming infamous and that was too dangerous for Master Jeffrey. Master
Jake, the young, ambitious master, did not stare at her from the crowd as
the other creations from her memory had. She had no need to conjure him because
he stood right beside her, waiting for the crowd to
settle so that he could introduce her properly.
And so this was how far she had come. From street rat to
one of the few elite slaves who could command the silence of the crowd. A
silence that was required before her master would allow the demonstration to
begin. But he would not ask for it. On the contrary, he required the crowd to
notice that they were ready to begin and to settle themselves. His slave deserved
that, after all, she was the highlight of the night’s entertainment. She calmed
herself with this knowledge. Whatever they did to her, she would suffer it all
– not for the whims of the crowd as it had once been – but for their respect
and for the growing status of her Master. She deserved this. She had suffered
greatly as she had climbed from the depths as a House Slave in the Movie House,
to her now elevated station that afforded her some security, some peace and at
least some reward for all she had been through. She couldn’t know that soon she
would see everything that she had worked so hard for put under threat.
But for now there was just the crowd and their
expectation of what was to follow...
Another night. Another demonstration. The crowd was
silent as the slave S was brought to stand in front of an ornate
display. The ornaments that lined the table were befitting the situation – ten
dildos arranged in order of size. Her Master had already explained the rules of
the game and now it was up to S to choose a starting point. In a
moment, she would be bent over the table, her arse and pussy presented to the
crowd. The crowd remained silent, expectant and excited at the prospect of
another fine demonstration from the infamous S. Her Master had coached S
on how to play the crowd. They were eager for her to choose so that the fun
could start – yet at the same time, her demonstrations were like sex,
the anticipation was just as important. Mia glanced to the side of the stage
where a kneeling slave nervously awaited her part in the game. The slave stared
back, lust and fear shining in her eyes in equal measure. Such a gaze was
common. S was beautiful. She was strong with a well-toned, muscular body
and good sized, well-shaped breasts. She wasn’t as tall as she appeared. Master
Jeffrey and his female companion had taught her how to stand, how to carry
herself. She had poise and she had a reputation that only heightened her
allure. Dominants and slaves alike wanted to fuck her. But more than anything,
they wanted to see what she could take and what she could give.
‘Master,’ she said softly but loud enough for the silent
crowd to hear, ‘If it pleases you, please begin with number five.’
The crowd erupted with cheers of approval as she moved to
hold the edge of the table, pushing her arse backwards. The lights on the stage
faded, leaving a single spotlight shining on her smooth buttocks and glistening
pussy. She waited, head lifted and eyes forward. She held her legs straight,
strong. The crowd waited. Anticipation like a storm cloud gathering overhead. The
crop seemed to come from nowhere as it flew from the shadows to line her arse. The
light caught the blow perfectly and the crowd roared as her buttocks swelled around
the rod. When it was lifted from her flesh, a quickly darkening line was
revealed. Another blow and the crowd applauded, wanting more. Mia gritted her
teeth, she had to be strong, that was what the crowd
wanted. She quivered as another harsh blow found her arse. Her buttocks were
quickly lined with swollen welts and her pussy was glistening even more. The
crowd noticed and applauded her for it. It pleased them to see S aroused by the
lick of the whip. The cloud of expectation grew heavier.
The crop disappeared and the impressively sized dildo
that she had chosen was brought into the light. The crowd fell silent again,
wanting to hear her as she took it. Many of the dominants watching had slaves
that would be unable to handle such a phallus but for S, this was just
the starting point.
‘Are you ready, S?’ her Master asked, resting his
hand against her bruised rump.
‘Master, I am yours to do with as you please.’ Her words
pleased the crowd and they murmured their approval because even a slave such as
S should still demonstrate the proper subjugation.
Jake’s hand slapped her sore rump, making her yelp with
surprise. She lowered her head for a moment, tightened her shoulders and then
slowly relaxed. The tip of the dildo pushed between her labia lips and into her
cunt. She breathed slowly as she was stretched more than any usual cock. Her
buttocks quivered with delight as she was filled, the sweet friction igniting
the desire that had settled deep inside her the moment she had been brought
naked onto the stage. The eyes of the crowd and the knowledge of everything
that was to follow soon had her gasping. Her eyes alighted on the line of
dildos and the four progressively larger ones that were still to be used on her
– if she could stand to take them. The thought of each one sliding into her
made her quiver and she closed her eyes, letting the sensation of her filled
vagina flow through her. The sweet friction continued. Filled and stretched, it
was a delight to be screwed by her Master. She closed her eyes, quivers running
up and down her spine, making beads of sweat stand out along her skin. Her
pussy throbbed with delight, her nipples hardening to points. Her brow creased
and her lips pulled back from her teeth as her body contracted, aching for
release.
‘Master?’ she cried after just a few minutes, ‘May I
come? Please?’