Tersely Pertinent

So after the mostly successful Copper Flogger, I decided to see how my experience would transfer over to a stainless steel tube.   

The first problem I encountered was the Outside Diameter (OD) is smaller than the one on the copper tube.   I ordered 1 inch OD but when the first one got was less than 1 inch.   Figured they sent the wrong size, so I ordered another.

Second one came in and was the same size of the first.   So I figured this was the industry standard and made adjustments.    Already had some collars for the tube and put a chrome pull on the end.  The final handle construction looks like this:

To go with the look I wanted, I decided get a black hide.   Yak, this time to continue to exotic rhythm. Yak would also provide a heavier fall.

It took forever for the hide to show up here.   Not so much because of the shipper, but the Post Office bounced it around NE Kansas for almost a week.    But it finally arrived:

Now this stuff is much thicker and tougher than I had figured.    Attempting to cut it with my exacto knife got me poor results, so I ordered new blades for my rotary cutter.   

Titanium coated blades!

When those arrived, I was cleaning the packing oil off one of them and found out how sharp they were:

It was like I was in an SNL skit about Julia Childe 

But was able to clean up and get back to business.    My goal was to make it only 13 falls this time, figuring that the weight would make up for the thuddiness.

So the final problem came when the thicker falls went into the smaller tube, only 11 falls would squeeze in.   So the flogger is sitting on the work bench til Thursday to let the glue cure and we will see how it all works out:

The slave hung in the air like a puppet who’s master was pulling her from the stage.

Only instead of strings controlling her, it was a hook suspending her from the ropes around her tits.   The pain was enormous!  As the weight pulled her down, the rope yanked her bound breasts up and over the wooden horse.

Through it all, her mind focused on the cow bell swinging on her collar.   It clanked loudly to her.  All she could think of was the SNL skit: More Cowbell!

The slave didn’t even feel her Owner’s hands clasp itself around her ankles and swing her over the horse.    All of her attention was on the pain and the cowbell.   Even the bottle of milk, pee and cum she should be sucking on was forgotton.

The Owner centered her and went back to hoist rope.   He slowly lowered her on to the horse, stopping now and then to make sure she was going to settle on it as He wanted her to.

With the pain on her tits relieved, the slave was able to come back to reality.   She found herself with a leg dangling on each side of the triangle of the horse.   The top edge of it was beginning to bite into her pussy and ass.    The slave could feel the edge separating her lips and pushing into her clit.

As the Owner came back to her side, she blinked her way to full awareness.   She watched him bring a small stepstool  and set it next to the horse and climb it until he was face to face with her.

“That is a good cow, Bessie.”  He told her as he tilted her head backwards, so the end of the bottle pointed at the ceiling.  “Let’s get these ropes off your udders.”

The slave kept her eyes on the ceiling as she felt Him undo the hook and got the knots out of the rope.   She tried to get a sigh of relief as the ropes fell off her tortured tits, but the milky liquid gushing down her throat wouldn’t let her.    She didn’t even mind the small pain of His fingers twisting and pulling her nipples.

The Owner leaned over a bit, to reach the ropes binding her wrists behind her back.   These He undid and moved her hands in front of her body.  He then retied her wrists and raised them, placing the rope on the hook still hanging next to her.

The slave found her upraised arms caused her body to push down more.  The biting on her pussy and asshole was increased.   Nodding in self appreciation of His work, The Owner stepped down from the stool and went again to the hoist rope.

Only this time he did not move the rope very much.  Just enough to raise the slave’s hands slightly above her head.    Not far enough to even fully extend her elbows.    

But placing her arms as such brought more pressure down on her body.   It made her feel like her weight was increasing.  

As was the pressure on her cunt.

The Owner strode from the hoist rope and went over to a metal cart nearby.   On it was two rather large stainless steel cylinders.  One of the cylinders had two clear tubes: one running to the second cylinder and the other to two medium cups.

He bent over and picked up an object from one of the lower shelves of the cart.  It was a digital clock.   Placing it on the top of the cart, He then rolled the cart over to the refrigerator.   Opening the door, he retrieved a second baby bottle from inside.

Thus equipped, The Owner rolled the cart next to the slave on the horse.  After putting the two cups into a pocket, the tubes hanging out, He flipped a switch and a pumping sound started coming from the second cylinder. Climbing the stool again, He took ahold of the bottle strapped to the slave’s mouth and unscrewed from her gag.

“Looks like you are getting a little low, Bessie.  Let’s trade you out before you get started.”  He told her as the milky substance gushed from the bottle, running over her breasts and legs. 

“Look at the mess you have made, silly Bessie!  I’m going to have to clean it up!”

The Owner leaned his head down and licked the mess from her tits.   He made sure to take each nipple into his mouth and suckle it, ending with a fierce bite with His teeth.  After the bite, The Owner placed a cup onto the nipple.  

The slave felt her nipples being sucked into the deep into the cup and then release.  But not enough to let the cup fall from her breast.   Then the sucking again, then the release.

After attaching a cup to each breast, The Owner patted her on the thigh.   He turned to get off the stool but then turned back to her and placed a hand on each shoulder.  Pushing down very swiftly, He made sure she was firmly seated on the horse.  

Satisfied with her placement, He deftly skipped off the stool and went back to the cart.    Once there, He reached out a hand and flipped a switch on the clock.   It lit up and started recording the passing seconds.

“Now we will see how long you can take it, Bessie.   How long are you going to last for me?”

The slave, still soaking wet from her shower, padded into the building behind her Owner.   Her bare feet left little puddings from the concrete slab outside into the white, sterile she found behind the door.   The cow bell attached to her collar clanked with every gooshy step.

Looking around her, the slave saw more and more white: walls, floors, even the doors and cupboards and cabinets. The only things not white were the stainless-steel carts, refrigerators and….

Her brown eyes open wide at the sight of the last object.  Something she hadn’t ever seen before, maybe only in videos and articles talking about medieval torture devices.

In the middle of the room was a wooden horse.  Made of polished wood, it was formed by a large, long triangle sitting on two stainless steel poles coming up from the floor.  The top edge of the triangle looked very sharp to the slave.  

Not wanting to think anything more of the horse, she shifted her gaze to the ceiling and saw an old style block and tackle hanging down, above the horse. The slave shivered.  Not so much from the coolness of her still wet body and the temperature of the room, but understanding what the ropes were for.

“Stand right there, Bessie”.  The Owner’s voice brought her out of her reverie. He had placed her close to the horse and then walked over to one of the refrigerators. 

Opening the door and reaching in, He retrieved what she saw as a baby bottle with leather straps attached to the cap.   He then closed the door with a kick of his heel and took a small coil of rope from a nearby cart.

Walking back to the slave, He grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around.   Grabbing both her wrists, he looped the rope around them until they were bound tight together.   He then turned her back around again and held the bottle up to her eyes.

“Time for your feeding, Bessie.” 

The slave saw the bottle contained a white liquid.   Something like milk she thought.  Looking back at her Owner, she saw he had a puzzled look on his face.

“Looks a little lite, doesn’t it Bessie?  Not enough for a growing cow like you.  Guess I am going to have to top it off.”

She watched Him as he lowered the bottle to the zipper on his jeans.   After unscrewing the cap from the bottle, The Owner’s other hand undid his pants and took out His Cock.  The slave saw it was already half erect and rather large.  

The head dripped with a small amount of pre cum, as He began to massage His member.  He put the head of His dick into the mouth of the bottle.  His breathing deepened as His massaging quickened.  

After a few minutes of this, The Owner closed his eyes and gave out a loud grunt and his load exploded into the bottle.   He then squeezed His penis, as if to make sure every amount of cum he could get into the bottle.

Taking His cock out of the bottle, The Owner held it up to his eye and scrutinized the mixture. “Still not enough for you, Bessie”, He told her as He again lowered it to his crotch and reinserted the head back in.

He looked her straight in the eye while he emptied his urine bladder into the bottle.   The slave broke contact with Him and watched as the golden liquid mixed in with the milky substance.

With a small piss shiver, The Owner took out his dick and recapped the bottle.   Shaking the bottle, He put away His cock and redid his pants.  Completing his tasks, He then approached the slave and told her to open wide.

The slave opened her mouth and tilted her head back.   As the nipple of the bottle entered her mouth, she began to suck on it, even as she felt His hands wrap around her head to buckle the bottle to her.

The milk tasted cold, adding the chill of her body.   She was hoping the body temperature fluids would help her warm up, but it didn’t help.

After strapping on the bottle, The Owner lifted her chin up and patted her on the head.  He then then went over to a long rope that was hooked up the block and tackle on the ceiling. 

He let out the rope and lowered the set up until it was shoulder height next to the slave. She watched it settle while she continued to drink from her bottle.   Her gaze shifted back to The Owner as he fetched another coil of rope from the cart.

“Don’t pay attention to me, Bessie.” He spoke to her as he strode up to her, “You finish drinking as I hook you up.”

Concentrating on her bottle, The slave suddenly felt a crushing pain from both of her breasts.    Not wanting to lower her head to look down, so the bottle could keep draining, she felt His hands squeeze and twist each tit.   

The pain subsided as he let go, but was replaced with the rough feel of the rope, as he wound it around and around each breast.  They felt as if each one were being crushed by a giant hand.  The slave almost dropped to her knees from the pressure and wanted to scream but the ever flowing milk didn’t allow her.

The Owner stepped back to admire his rope work and gave each tit a smack.   “I think that should do it!” He told her, as she reached over to the tackle hanging next to her shoulder.  

On the bottle of the tackle was a heavy-duty hook.  This He put through a loop of rope he created on the rope between both breasts.   The Owner then walked back to the rope running down to the wall and drew it in some.

This action pulled on the block and made the tackle raise toward the ceiling.    As it went up, the slave stood herself on her toes, to keep the pressure off her tits.  

The Owner walked back to her and inspected the hook and rope.  Nodding again in satisfaction, He flicked the end of the bottle and told her to keep drinking.  Strutting back to the rope, He yanked on it very quickly.

The slave felt her feet leave the floor and the pain in her breasts tripled.   She hung freely in the air, as her legs flailed around, trying to find purchase.

“Now the fun begins.”  The Owner said to no one, while he watched her dangle.

The slave wallowed around in the mud, like the good little piggy she was.

The dark, thick much covered most of her body.  Arms, legs and her tits were covered with it.   She knew her ass was well and half her face, from being thrown in the mud pit by her Owner.

The only area not covered was her back.  But, she did didn’t want to roll over because she was afraid she would lose her piggy nose and ears He had put on her.   She also didn’t want to dislodge the pig tail that was sticking out her asshole.

She moved around the pen, giving her something to do.   Occasionally the slave would look back towards the building across the dirt track from the pen.   She knew the Owner was inside there and was waiting for him to come back.

The slave decided to investigate the other end of the pen.   She noticed it had a awning over it and thought it might be good to get of the sun a bit.   

After getting under the awning, she found there was a trough of water and another of dry breakfast cereal.    The water reminded her how thirsty she was from the morning run with the cart.   Placing her hands on the edge of the trough, the slave dipped her lips into the water.

She closed her eyes, feeling the cool liquid slide down her throat.  In response to the soothing touch, she grunted like the piggy she was. 

The problem was the water caused another sensation in her body.  She had to pee.   Looking around, she decided to do what piggies did and moved off to the part of the pen furthest from the gate.   Once there, the slave lowered herself on all fours, to the point her chin was resting in the top layer of the muck.

Closing her eyes again, she let loose her bodily fluids into the mud.   She kept her eyes closed and grunted again as the fluids left her body.

“Here piggy, piggy, piggy!  Here piggy, piggy, piggy!  Souiee!  Souiee!  Here piggy, piggy, piggy!” 

The slave snapped her eyes open as she heard the voice of her Owner.   Seeing him walking up the gate of the pen, she trotted over as fast as she could to meet Him.   

He leaned down over the gate and shook His head in disgust at her. “You are a filthy piggy!  Now I have clean you up!   Get your ass over here!”  He told her as he unlatched the gate and opened.   She crawled though the gate, leaving a trail of the mud as she exited the pen. 

“Get on your feet, piggy, and try not to get any of your filth on me.”  The Owner barked at her, as she clipped the end of leash to her collar.

The slave stood up and looked rather embarrassed at the mud dripping from her body.   But that did not last long, as a sudden tug of the leash made her move forward, following The Owner as he crossed the dirt track towards the house.

However, instead of going in the front door He has used earlier, The Owner guided his dirty piggy around the side of the house to the back.    There, the slave discovered, was a concrete slab about 10 feet long by the same distance wide.   In the center was a drain and off to one side was a water pipe.  The pipe went up and over the slab with a shower head at the end.   She also saw a garden hose coiled up and connected to the pipe.

“Get under the shower, filthy piggy.” The Owner ordered her, “I have to get you clean before we go inside.”  

The slave nodded with her pig nose and ears bobbing up and down.   Kicking off her swim shoes, she walked over to the center of the slab and looked up at the shower head to see if she was in the right place.

Just as she glanced, cold water poured down, hitting her full in the face.   The slave raised a hand to make sure the headband with the piggy ears did not fall off.   “My God, this water is COLD!” she thought to herself, as it cascaded over face and down her body.

Suddenly the slave felt a hard scrubbing over her tits.   Looking down, she saw The Owner had gotten a brush on a long handle and was brutally running it over her breasts and belly.  

“Turn around, piggy, and bend over.”  He told her.

She did as he ordered.   Keeping centered under the chilling waterfall, the slave placed her hands on her knees and widened her stance.   She then felt the brush scrape over each leg and over her ass.   Looking down, she also saw the brush pass between her legs and then turn over.

The Owner used one end of the brush to remove the mud from her cunt, roughly running the bristles over her lips and clit.  He pressed up so hard, the slave felt he was trying to stick the end inside her.

He then moved the brush over her ass and back.   Scrubbing hard, she wondered if he was trying to remove skin as well as the mud.

As suddenly as the water started, it stopped.  The slave stood there shivering as she dripped huge droplets onto the concrete.   She stood up and was just wiping her eyes when she felt his hand  grab her throat from behind.

“I didn’t tell you to stand up, cunt.”  His hand tighten as she felt the pig ears ripped from her head.   Then the pig nose was violently ripped off and the tail yanked from her anus.

“But you aren’t a piggy anymore, are you?” The Owner asked her. “No you aren’t.   Now, you are a sad, little cow.” 

With this statement, he brought around a small cowbell into her field of vision.   He clanked it two or three times and then affixed it to her collar.    Then letting go of her throat, The Owner used both hands to grab her nipples and pull them straight out.

The slave bit her lip to keep herself from giving out a big yelp! 

He pulled out her breasts until they were as far from her body as they could.   Twisting the nipples, he said to her “Let’s go inside and see if I can get any milk from these things!”

The morning sun beat down upon the slave, as she pulled the cart up the dirt track.

The air was dry and the breeze stirred up dust around her.  The problem was she was sweaty from her work and the dust coated her naked body from head to foot.   Lucky for her, her head harness seemed to be soaking up the sweat from her brow before it got in her eyes.

“Pick it up, cunt.  We have places to go.”  Said the voice of The Owner, coming from the seat of the cart.  The horse whip bit her ass again, and she sped up her pace.   

Almost trotting, the slave saw where the track curved around some trees.   The bit in her mouth tugged slightly to the right, a signal from The Owner that she should follow the curve.  When they completed the curve, she saw they were arriving at another building alongside the track.

It was a small one story building with a porch and some old time milk cans sitting out front.  On the other side of the track was a large fenced in area.   Getting closer, she could see the inside of the fence was a lake of mud.

Again the whip cracked and the sting was on her back.   The slave began to run!  Grabbing each rail of the cart, she moved her legs as fast as she could!   The swim shoes on her feet pounding the dirt and raising more and more dust.

The bit pulled again to the right as she got closer to the fenced in pen.   Suddenly, her head was pulled back from both reins and His voice said “Whoa, cunt!”

The slave stopped the cart as best she could.    The sweat on her palms let the rails slide, but she was able to keep control of the cart.   When it was fully stopped, she could feel it shake as The Owner got out of the seat.   

She blinked the sweat out of her eyes as he came around in front of her.   He reached up around the back of her head and undid the harness.   Pulling it off, He tossed it on the seat and told her she was a mess.

The slave merely nodded and looked down at her dust covered body.   She saw her skin was beginning to redden under the sun. 

“Here, let me help you.”  He told her as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.  This, he spit into and then rubbed over her face while holding her hair close to the scalp.

Twisting her head from side to side, The Owner inspected his cleaning and nodded in approval. He then dragged her by her hair, along the fence to a small gate.   After opening the gate, she shoved the slave through, so that she fell face first into the mud.

“Get on your hands and knees, cunt, and get over here”  He barked at her.

The slave forced her arms and legs down though the muck until she found somewhat solid ground.   The mud was thick and deep enough to cover her hanging tits halfway up.    Slowly she found some purchase and was able to turn herself around.   She crawled as quickly as she could back to the fence.

Looking up at The Owner, though her mud caked face, she saw He was leaning down at her.   With His hands on the top rail of the fence, He said “I got to get some things ready in the milking station.   You roam around here like a good little piggy and I’ll be right back.”  He half turned and then turned back to her, “Oh I forgot.  Here.”

The Owner reached out and tied a fake pig nose to her face.  He this wrapped a headband on her, giving her pig ears.  “Turn around piggy.”

The slave obeyed and slowly turned around.   She then felt her ass cheeks being separated and an object shoved into her rectum.   

Slapping her on the ass, The Owner cackled “Gimme an oink, piggy! Souiee!  Souiee!”

The slave oinked and grunted in response, turning again to watch Him head to the building across the track.  The cackling continued until he entered the building and closed the door behind him.

(You may want to read this  Trigger Warning before continuing) 

The Owner led His cunt through a doorway into another part of the building.  As the slave entered the area, she looked around and was amazed at what she saw.

It was like she came into a barn.   Wooden rafters with support beams, stalls for animals and bales of hay everywhere.   Looking down, she saw she was crawling on loose straw that was sticking to her hands and knees.

The Owner yanked on her leash to pull her of out her revery.   She quickly followed after him.   He walked her over to something she had never seen before.  A cart of some kind.  

It two wheels on the rear with a single seat between them.  Extending out from the base where the seat was, were two thin rails.   The ends of the rails were resting on the straw covered floor, so the cart was tilted downwards.  She also saw that next to the seat was a horse whip.

The Owner tied His end of the leash to the cart and said “Sit.  Stay.”, then wandered off to one of the stalls along the wall.  The slave sat back on her heels and watched Him as he left. 

Wondering what He was doing, she went back to looking around at the barn interior.   The slave could not get over not knowing all this existed.    But, she shrugged mentally, she’s really only seen one room, and the inside of crates and cages.

Hearing His footsteps return, she looked up and saw He was carrying a few items:  Long leather straps, a bit gag head harness and a pair of rubber shoes.

“Stand up, cunt.” He ordered.   The slave obeyed and when he stood next to her, He handed her the shoes and said “Put those on, and be quick about it.”

She got to her feet as fast as she could.  Brushing off the soles of her feet, she put the shoes on.  The slave saw they were swim shoes, rugged but worn.   “At least they fit fairly well,” she thought to herself.

The Owner nodded in approval and then reached up to her head.  Opening her mouth, He stuck the bit part of the gag in and proceeded to buckle on the harness.   Luckily, her red, brownish hair was rather short and the harness fit fairly close to her scalp.

One of the things that the slave noticed about the gag is the large rings on each end of the bit.

To each of these rings, He clipped on an end of the leather straps.    With the other ends in His hand, The Owner pulled the slave the front of the cart.    He then pushed her in between each rail and told her to pick them up.

The slave bent over and grasped a rail in each hand.   The cart shifted and moved slightly as she did this.   The Owner nodded again in approval and then circled the cart, wrapped each rein to the whip next to the seat.

After circling the cart to see if everything was in proper order, He walked in front of her and opened the two big doors in front of the cart.   Morning sun poured in and almost blinded the slave.

Seeing how she was blinking at the light, when he returned, The Owner reached into a pocket and took out a pair of sunglasses.  These he put on her, fitting the ends of them under the straps of the head harness.  He then climbed into the seat and took a rein in each hand.

“When I do this,” He told the slave’s backside, “turn left.”  He pulled the left rein hard enough for her chin to touch her left shoulder. 

“When I do this, turn right.”  He repeated the action, but for her head to snap to the right.

“This, means stop.”

The slave’s head snapped backwards, and the bit dug deeper into her mouth.

Suddenly the slave heard a loud CRACK and felt a sharp, stinging pain on her right ass cheek.  “He Yah!”  The Owner crowed, “Get along, cunt!”

Slowly but with a quickening pace, she pulled the cart out of the barn and headed down a dirt paved road.

(You May want to read this Trigger Warning Here)

The slave woke up in her cage.

The cage itself wasn’t very big.  Maybe four feet by four feet, but it was only thirty inches tall.   When her Owner told her to go lay in it, she wasn’t sure she could fit.   Originally she curled up in a ball when He closed and locked the door, but couldn’t stay in that position all night.

She found the bars of the cage were far enough apart she could pass her arms and legs through them.  The slave found that laying on her belly allowed her to relax and finally get some sleep.

She raised her head up from the pillow her Owner had provided and looked out of the cage to see Him at the workbench.   It was the sound of His puttering around that had awoken her.  He, in turn, heard her movements and turned his head to speak to her.

“About time you got up, cunt.  I have things to do and you are slowing me down.”  He told her gruffly.  

Leaving the bench, He walked over to her cage and used his keys to unlock the door to it.   The slave pulled her arms in and crawled out.    She moved slowly, as she knew her blatter was full and didn’t want to pee on the floor.

As she got fully out of the cage, she raised herself to her hands and knees.    She kept her eyes down, focusing on his ankles before her.

“Do you need to go to the pee or crap, cunt?    Are you hungry?”  The Owner asked her, seemingly almost to care.

“Yes, Sir.” She spoke to his feet.  “I am thirsty and hungry and I need to pee, Sir.”

“Crawl over to the litter pan in the corner and squat there.   Don’t crap in it though.   I have bucket for that.”  He replied.  “I’ll get you some breakfast and then we can get on with the day.”

The Owner turned his back on her and walked to a small kitchenette in the corner of the room.   The slave turned her head to look for the litter pan.   Seeing it, she crawled on all fours in its direction.

When The slave got to the pan, she turned her head to look back at where The Owner was.   She could hear him in the kitchenette but could not see him.   Doing as she was told, The slave got up to her feet and straddled the pan between her legs.  She then squatted down and got her pussy as close to the kitty litter as she could.    She then looked up at the ceiling, closed her eyes and gave release of her blatter.

The urine streamed out of her like a reverse fountain.   It made a great puddle in the litter and soaked itself in.    Breathing a sigh of relief, The slave finished and then looked around for something to wipe with.   Not seeing anything handy, she waved her hips back and forth to get the last of the urine off her and stepped around from the pan.

“Breakfast, cunt.  Come and get it!” The Owner’s voice came to her from the kitchenette.   She got back down on her hands and knees and crawled her there.

Arriving in the kitchenette, she saw The Owner bent over two medium sized steel bowls on the floor.   He was breaking up what looked like a power bar into one of them.   When He was finished, He straighten up and told her she could eat but not to use her hands other than to hold the bowls.  

“But hurry up.   You are costing me daylight.”  He finished and walked off.  

The slave crawled up to the bowls and saw one was indeed filled with the ruminates of maybe two power bars.   She saw the other was filled with clean, clear water.   Going to that one first, she dipped her head down and drank the water in as best she could.

She never tasted water so good, she told herself!

The slave had to stop herself from over filling and knelt back to look at the bowl before drinking again.  Then her gaze shifted to the other bowl and her stoumach began to growl.   My God she was hungry!

Leaning down on all fours again over the food bowl, she managed to tongue one of the larger pieces in her mouth.   Her jaws happily crunched the sticky rice crispies, almonds, dried cranberries and what all.  After swallowing, she stuck her mouth back in the bowl and ate again without sitting back.   When all the big pieces where gone, The slave held the bowl with both hands and licked the bowl clean, as best she could.

When she was done, she leaned back over the water dish and drank deeply again.    As she finished her second draught, the noticed The Owner was standing next to her. 

He patted her on the head and asked “Are you finally  finished, cunt?    Took you long enough.”  The slave looked up at him and nodded.    He then leaned down and affixed the end of a leash to the collar around her neck.

“Let’s go cunt.  I have chores to do on the farm and you have to get me there.”

(Before you read this post, you may wish to read this Trigger Warning Here)

The slave didn’t know how long the van drove around.    It seemed to go on for hours.    Through various turns and straightaways, it never stopped moving.  

She spent her time waiting and trying to move around the crate as best she could.    First one way, then another, to keep her arms, legs and back from cramping up.    Surprisingly, her wrists felt fine.   She was worried the handcuffs would close more and cause some damage, but they seemed locked in position.

During one of her shifting attempts, the van finally did stop.  But, for only a short period of time.   Then it back up for a piece and then stopped again and the engine turned off.

The slave heard the back doors of the van open but could not get turned around to try to see what was going on.   Suddenly the crate itself moved.   First up and then side to side.   All the while it seemed as if she could hear machine noises.

After awhile she felt the crate lowered to solid something and the noises faded away.   Footsteps replaced those sounds and something else.   Something The slave could only think of something turning.

Then with grunt, the top of the crate lifted off and light flooded her.

“Get up.” His growl said.

She felt Him grab her hair again and pulled straight up.   Her legs scrambled to get under her body and help her stand.   The Man then pulled her out of what was left of the crate and walked her to a nearby chair.

This He slammed her on then turned His back.   The slave watched as he went over to a standing work bench.   On it she saw various tools and the like.   Screwdrivers, hammers, pencils.  She also saw other things.   Dildos, clamps, ballgags and other things.

But she couldn’t see what was in front of Him. The slave watched his arms move but didn’t know what he was doing.   With a final movement, like He was pulling something from the pegboard in front of him, The Man stuffed items in the side pockets of his coat.

Turning around, He walked back over to her chair and went behind her where her arms were.  The slave could feel Him undoing her handcuffs and heard him toss them to the floor.  

Breathing a sigh of relief, she was suddenly bent forward in the chair, as he forced one arm up.   After a few seconds, she felt that one drop and the other arm lifted.  Then again, it was let go.

With a flash, His own arms shot out in front of her and pulled back.   A grabbing feeling was around her neck and she heard metallic sounds behind her.   The slave reached her hands up to her throat and discovered a thick leather band around it.

He had locked a collar on her.

Her hands felt around the collar and when got to the front of it, She found the end a leash attached.  While she ran her hands down the leash, The slave also saw where The Man had replaced the handcuffs with leather ones.

A harsh tug on the leash pulled her from the chair.  Turning away from the workbench, She was forced to follow him across the room, to one of the side walls.

He then grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her around and pushed her up against the wall. Sliding His hands down her arms, He grasped both leather cuffs and clipped them together. The other end of the clip he used, he attached to the end of a rope that was hanging over The slave’s shoulder.

The rope was run though a pully above The slave and the other end ran to an electric wench.    Activating the wench caused her arms to slowly raise above her and began to pull on her wrists.  She had to get on the toes of her sneakers to keep her weight off her wrists and arms.

Happily grunting to himself, The Man switched off the wench and got face to face with The slave.   He then gripped her chin and turned her head from side to side, looking her over.   As she was forced to look to her left, He leaned further in and ran his tongue over her ear and deep inside.

She tried not to move as He explored her, but she needed to move her legs to keep on her toes.   Keeping her head turned to the side, she felt His other hand run down her torso.   First over one breast then the other, grasping and twisting each one in turn. 

Then the hand slid down her belly, which ended with a short jab of His fingers.    This caused The slave’s breath to explode from her mouth.  

When she caught her breath, she begged of him “Please Sir, tell me what you wish of me.”

This only caused The Man to grunt laugh again.  Letting go of her jaw, He shifted his hands to her the top of her jeans.   The Slave knew what was coming next and shut her eyes, even while not facing Him.

But she could feel him undoing her jeans.   First the button and then the zipper being pulled down.   The Man then took hold of the jeans on either hip and ripped the jeans down to her knees. 

The slave began to whimper as he made sure the panties followed the jeans down.   The man began to chuckle and brought his hands up to his own face.    After spitting on each one, He stepped close to her and jammed one in her vagina and the other across her mouth.

“This is the only thing that matters,” He told her, shoving her fingers inside. “This cunt is now mine.   I own it.   The rest of you is nothing more than life support for this.”  To give emphasis to His words, The Man tightly gripped her cunt and twisted.

“Your name is now Cunt.” He told her.

(Before you read this story you may wish to view a trigger warning Here)

The slave sat at the airport restaurant with her bag next to her feet.   There wasn’t much in it, as the man had told her she wouldn’t need much.   Just some personal care things and a couple of her favorite toys.   He said he would take care of everything else.

She glanced herself over again, wanting to make sure everything was in order.   Her loose fitting blouse was the same color as her hair: reddish brown.   Her jeans were snug, so much so that she was sure her panties were showing through them.   She was surprised when he said he didn’t care if she wore them or not.  All the others told her not to wear any.

She had been sitting there awhile, thinking things over.  Their talks online and his coming out to Raleigh and meeting her face to face.  My God, she thought to herself, He was so confident and his eyes were so hard.   Maybe too hard, she said to herself again.

Looking down at her cell phone, to see if she missed a text from him, she wondered where He was.   She had flown out from the east coast to the middle of America to meet this Man on his home ground.   Did I make a mistake, she asked herself.   Was He not going to show up?

She looked around the room and started to panic.   Slumping down, she put the cell in her lap and logged on the website they met at.   Nope, no messages there either.

“Sit up straight.   You look like a slob like that.” A voice told her, very sternly.  

The Slave’s head snapped up and there He was, right in front of her.   The Man had somehow seated himself at her table without making a sound.   She sat upright as fast as she could, back barely touching the cushion of her chair. 

“Hello Sir!  I’m sorry for not sitting properly.  It won’t happen again.” She told him, as she tried to make herself as presentable as she could.

“Quiet.   When I want to hear from you, I will tell you.”  He sternly replied. 

Reaching into his inner coat pocket, The Man pulled out three objects and set them on the table in front of her one at a time: a car key with a small tag attached to it, a hotel room card, and a small packet of papers.

“This is your last chance to back out.” He told her.  Picking up the card and showing it to her, “This is room at the hotel next door.  It is paid for.”  Next He showed her the packet, “The room has been paid and you can stay for 3 days.  This also has a return plane ticket to home.”

Setting the packet back on the table, his forefinger then tapped the car key.  “This,” He told her as His eyes never left hers, “is a key to a cargo van at the back of the parking lot.  You will use it to unlock the back door and climb inside.   There you will find a crate inside and in that will be a set of handcuffs. You will put them on and kneel beside the crate until I come out.  Leave your bag here.”

“Choose now.”

The slave blinked at Him and then at the three objects on the table.   Slowing reaching out her hand toward the card, she found herself suddenly darting towards the car key.   Picking it up, she seemed to be floating as she rose from the table and headed for the door of the restaurant.

The Van was parked where He said it would be, with the rear facing away from the restaurant.  Walking to the back, she found the key did indeed fit the lock and she could open the door.   Still standing outside, she could see in to look the interior over.  

There was the crate He mentioned.   It was like a rather large dog kennel, but much sturdier.   It was constructed of heavy duty plastic and had a large metal grate for the front door.   On top, she noticed a rugged padlock.

With a sigh, The slave climbed in the van and then reached back to shut the door.   The roof of the van was not very tall, so she had to crawl to the crate.   When she got to it, she undid the latch and reached inside.   There she found the handcuffs.

They were ordinary police handcuffs.   The kind she saw on cop shows all the time.   The slave had seen them used on various scenes down at the club, but never used any herself.    Looking over the cuffs, she moved her eyes to her wrist.  First one then the other.

She sighed again and snapped one cuff around her left wrist.  The ratcheting sound seemed to echo within the van.    With a gulp, she put both hands behind her back and spent some minutes getting the other cuff on her right wrist.    When she finally got it locked, she knelt down beside the crate and closed her eyes.   Waiting.

It what seemed forever to her, The slave heard footsteps outside the van.   Then the sound of one of the front doors opened and a thump of something hitting one of the seats.   The door slammed shut and the footsteps returned.

Behind her, the sound of the back door opened, and the van shifted as someone got in with her.   Suddenly The slave’s head snapped back, as a hand had grabbed her hair and pulled hard.

“When I tell you to do something, do it right!” His voice growled in her ear.  Her head was thrown forward and she fell down to the floor of the van.  She then felt His hand wrap themselves around her wrists and the pressure of the cuffs increased.

She was trying to tell Him how sorry she was when the air was forced from her by His body laying on top of her.  Trying to catch her breath, her head snapped back again, and his voice was saying “Now get it that crate before we have some real problems.”

Turning her head, she again looked at the crate and tears started to drip from the corners.  “Yes Sir” The slave whispered and felt His weight disappear from her body.    She inched herself as fast as she could toward the crate.  

Pushing with her still free legs, she managed to get in up to her waist.   That was when she felt His foot on her butt and pushed her in further. Shifting to her back, she bent her knees until she could feel all of her in her the crate.

She shuttered when she could hear Him click the padlock on the grate behind her.   

As many of you who follow my writings on here know, I like to create stories that celebrate various aspects of the D/s Lifestyle.   

In most cases, they show how there can be loving connections of horrendous acts that attract us and can repel us at the same time.    But I do try to show, at the end, these are acts of a consensual nature.  Participants engage in knowing what is going to happen by the time the story ends.

However, the next story is going to be something different.     While it will be consensual in nature, it is going to be very different in what I usually put out.   

It won't be for everyone.    But, it is going to show a different  side of the lifestyle, something a little more violent.

I'm not going completely off the rails, but some may find it adverse.   

You have been warned.