U.P.S.S.
BY
SYLVESTER HORNE
2nd Edition


© Copyright Sylvester Horne 2008

The right of Sylvester Horne to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988.

      All rights reserved.
      
      Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author. 
      
      All characters in this book are at least 18 years old, including those described derogatorily as children, and have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
      
      This electronic book published by A1AdultEbooks :
       http://www.a1adultebooks.com
      

Chapter One

      
Jodie steered the little old Corolla along the snaking road as it made its way ever higher into the Mount Lofty Ranges, the driver’s window open due of the stifling heat, the car so old it had no air-conditioning. At the top of the climb was the T-junction, she going to the right. The terrain levelled out somewhat, but all the same she had to concentrate for there were several tight bends to negotiate.
      Increasingly, she was becoming more nervous, was it the drive, the heat or anticipation of meeting him again – possibly all three, she reckoned, but the latter was probably the main cause. She had not seen him in the flesh for twenty years but they had of course exchange photographs occasionally, usually tucked in with their Christmas cards. Spasmodically, they e-mailed each other. That was why his telephone call had taken her by surprise, she not even knowing he was in the country. As usual, his conversation was brief, he merely inviting her to visit him for lunch. Why he had decided to stay out in The Hills was a mystery to her, there always the risk of bush fires for a start. On top of that, what relatives he had in South Australia all lived in the city suburbs. Her mother was his first cousin and Jodie was wondering why she had not told her of his arrival when they had met late last week.
      After three miles, she took the sharp left turn. Carrying on she had to slow down to take the hairpin he had warned her about. A hundred yards later, she spotted the splay of the drive and pulled in, stopping beside the intercom and pressing the button. “Hi, it’s me,” she said.
      “Come right up,” his voice replied, sounding like he was giving a command rather than a request. But then he had always been good at giving orders.
      Her heart skipped a little beat whilst butterflies started to emerge from their chrysalises within her stomach. 
      The controlled gates rolled back and she moved forward, she momentarily seeing them closing behind her via her rear-view mirror as she followed the serpentine bitumen incline of the driveway. She passed through the screening-belt consisting mainly of assorted eucalypts and on into a large area of well-watered grass, dotted about with a few specimen ornamental trees, there one giant red gum located at the centre of the front lawn. 
      “Wow,” she mumbled, seeing the house for the first time. “Phew, Drake must be spending a fortune on rent.”
      She stopped the Corolla on the forecourt in front of the six-car garage and got out, pulling her skirt down to her knees, adjusting her hair by means of forked fingers. Her butterflies started flapping their wings. Scanning about, she tried to take in every detail. It was a sprawling single storey building, one of those multi-million dollar fancy creations that an architect produces when their imagination run riot and their client has plenty of cash. The roof was blue tiles, the walls were part rendered, painted cream, and parts were made from dressed blocks of limestone. Going up the three steps, she followed the limestone-flagged pathway as it curved its way towards what she took for the front entrance, it meandering between two kidney-shaped flowerbeds. These contained some large specimen boulders together with drought-resistant Mediterranean plating, and the soil was covered in a layer of limestone chippings. Pausing momentarily, she slowly executed a three hundred and sixty turn, noting there was also a water feature to one side of the lawn area, in the form of a stream that cascaded over rock and passed through a series of various sized pools and ponds.
      Continuing, she arrived at the front door, the portico was flanked either side by a pair of fluted columns, and potted bay trees, clipped to look like pompoms on sticks. This part of the house appeared to be two storeys – well, there were two large dormer windows set into the roof. But she guessed that the hall would be two storeys high and they merely let extra light into the interior. Nevertheless, she thought, if only you could look out through either of those upper windows then a person should get a magnificent view out over the hills and even possibly beyond over the sea and as far as the Eyre Peninsular.
      It was an hour before midday, the temperature already somewhere close to forty degrees Celsius. Thank God, she thought, there was quite a pleasant breeze up at this altitude otherwise she might well be sweating. And that would give the wrong sort of impression. She was trying her utmost to look calm and cool, she not wanting to give him the slightest hint that he might misinterpret as some sort of strong feelings for him. They would always be friends, but what happened between them in the past was now firmly in the past. Nevertheless, she was feeling quite nervous, those butterflies trying to batter their way through her stomach lining.
      “Get on with it,” she told herself, stretching out her arm, using her right index finger to push the door bell.
      One of the fancy wood and glass-panelled doors swung open revealing him standing there, dressed in a lemon-yellow polo shirt, buttons undone, a pair of casual linen trousers, and a pair of black-leather loafers. He had hardly changed in the last two decades, she swiftly concluded, still an impressive six feet two inches tall, broad-shouldered, slim-hipped, his curly black hair only showing a few flecks of grey at the bottom of his sideburns. His close-cropped moustache and beard, which merely covered the front of his chin, were as black as they had always been. Combined with his swarthy complexion it still gave him the appearance of possessing some Spanish blood – which evidently had occurred nearly two hundred years back in his family tree. The cold, steel-grey, eyes glinted, his mouth formed a smile, but his square jaw, his overall appearance and demeanour once again conveyed the impression to her that if he were acting in the movies he would be playing the part of the cruel and evil villain. 
      Once again, and much to her surprise, she started to lose her resolve, her heart now pounding and her legs were going weak at the knees. 
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      

Chapter Two
      
      
Drake’s eyes flicked up and down, scanning her from top to toe and back again. His one-time lover was standing there, pulling a smile. He was not disappointed, reckoning that even now she was very attractive. She still looked every inch the: “my five-foot-seven piece of pussy heaven”. That had been the epithet he had happily bestowed on her not long after they had first met. He much preferred the use of Imperial measurements, not those simplistic metric ones that had merely been devised for illiterate peasants who needed their fingers in order to count.
      She had aged, obviously, it nearly twenty years ago since he had seen her in the flesh. Her cheeks were not as plump, and her lips were thinner. Her breasts looked if anything slightly bigger but no doubt they drooped a little seeing as they had been E-cups when he had previously known her and he presumed gravity must have had an effect. If anything, her waist appeared slimmer despite her having produced three children. He simply hated those women that went to fat after starting a family. Her hair was still shoulder-length, a sort of sun-bleached blonde, and she was wearing the pair of little black disc ear-studs with the silver swastikas on them that he had given her all those years ago.
      “Come in,” he said, stepping back a couple of paces before kissing her on both cheeks. She smelt good. The hint of sandalwood soap brought back memories, his cock going stiff down the front of his trousers. He simply knew then, he was going to have to screw her before too long.
      Her soft lips reciprocated his kiss, pressing against each side of his face and, if he was not mistaken, he reckoned the tip of her tongue protruded slightly as she did so.
      “You’re looking good, Jodie. You’ve hardly changed,” he said.
      “Flatterer,” Jodie replied. “I’ve aged. It’s been twenty years, barring a month. But you haven’t, you’re just the same except for those flecks of grey.”
      “Let me have a good look at you,” he stepped back four more paces. Impishly, she did a little twirl. Her legs were still shapely although her green pleated skirt reached her knees whereas in the past it would have been eight inches higher. The green blouse was tight and buttoned to the neck but he could make out the outline of her bra beneath. She wore a little matching jacket which thankfully was unbuttoned. “You’re still in great shape, whatever you say.”
      “I do what I can. Swim a little, yoga and badminton. What about you?”
      “I work out.” He assumed she would know what he meant – weight training, gym exercises, and plenty of sex. 
      She let out a knowing chuckle, so he deduced from that that she did indeed recall his near-daily regime. 
      Taking her hand, he led her from the hall into the family room, saying, “I thought we’d eat out on the patio in about an hour or so.” He pointed through the glass doors, indicating the poolside paved area. “In the meantime, let’s talk. We’ve a lot to catch up on.”
      “This place must be costing a fortune to rent,” she said, cocking her head to one side, apparently fishing for an answer. 
      He was happy to give it. “Three months back I won the equivalent of fifty million dollars on the lottery back home so I’ve bought it—”
      “You’ve what?” she interrupted.
      She had patently heard, so he merely carried on with his story. “I’ve applied to emigrate but whilst I wait for them to deal with the application back in London I thought I’d come out for a long holiday. I’ve been here about month now.”
      “Mum never said when I saw her last week.”
      “I only told her two days ago, when I checked up that you were here.” He knew Jodie had spent much of the last two decades outside the country, in one or another Third World nation, and most of the rest of the time up in the far north of Australia. “I didn’t want to get involved with my relatives until now as I had a lot to get sorted. They’d mean well, asking me to barbecues, etcetera, but it would have simply been a hindrance. I’ve had workmen here that I had to organise, business people to meet, preparations to formulate. So, you’re the very first relative I’ve invited up here. For old times’ sake.”
      “That’s sweet of you.”
      It was not sweet of him at all. He had very fond memories. Jodie had visited him in England as part of her post-school year of travelling that most Australians insist on doing. In the event, she was away from home for nearly a year and a half. Originally, she had only been meant to stay with him for a few days, but in the end it was five months. Five passion-filled months of sex, he introducing her to the BDSM scene he had by then been involved with for seventeen years, since he was eighteen. 
      Jodie leaned against the arm of one of the leather settees, she saying, “Fabulous house.”
      “I’ll show you around in a few minutes. How are the kids? Michaela must be … what … nineteen, by now?” He knew precisely when she had been born, seven months after Jodie had got married. Nothing had ever been said or written but how many seven month pregnancies were there? He was certain; Michaela was his, not Ray’s, who he doubted would have ever indulged in pre-marriage sex. Anyway, Jodie had only left him and returned to Australia two weeks before her wedding day.
      “She’s fine. She’s travelling overseas at the moment, before going to uni. But, she’s promised to be back for my fortieth birthday.”
      “Oh, yes. That’s coming in four weeks time or so, isn’t it?” He was playacting, he knowing the precise date of that too. “I must try and do something special for you, to mark the occasion.”
      “That’d be nice. Ray’ll probably simply give me another cookery book or a set of shuttlecocks again.” She smiled, appearing to surreptitiously lick her lips. “The twins, Sarah and Luke, will be eighteen two days later. If they had arrived as I planned all three of us would celebrate on the same day.”
      She had become pregnant real quick after Michaela was born, he always reckoning that she had done that deliberately to put up a smokescreen and make her husband believe he was extremely virile. “And, what about Ray?” he asked, actually not particularly interested in hearing about him.
      There was a long pause before Jodie eventually replied, there no real warmth in her words. “He’s fine. He’s finished at Billabong Creek so we’ve come back to stay for a while.”
      Drake despised Ray, for no particular reason, he just did. In his view he was a short-arsed, holier-than-thou, sanctimonious, do-gooder wimp. What Jodie ever saw in him, he, for one, was hard pressed to understand? From what she had said, she had known him for about five years before coming to England, he her church’s pastor’s son. They had been engaged for more than a year before she started her travels and they had even arranged the marriage date. Her mother had evidently approved the match, but in Drake’s opinion his cousin had always been far too keen on all that religious bullshit. He suspected all along that Jodie had had some immature romantic idea about marrying a good man and helping him to assist the Third World. Her mother had a lot to answer for, in his opinion, filling her daughter’s head with such rubbish. He had done his best to liberate her, but the religious brainwashing and the deep-seated romantic notion had simply proved a little too strong. As a consequence, Jodie had spent most of her married life at one mission school or another, in the South Seas, South-East Asia or the Northern Territories, in what Drake assumed was nothing better than an assortment of wooden shacks.
      What a waste, Drake thought. Although he was fifteen years older than Jodie their fling had been lust-filled – and, she had been turned on by the BDSM scene and what that entailed. Now that he had money, he was determined to take his life from what he of late considered increasingly mundane and routine and move it on to practising full-blown sadism.
      She looked pensive, her cheeks flushing slightly, her breaths becoming shallower. Her tongue kept moistening her lips. Her eyes glistened vibrant blue, he recalling how that was a sign she was building to heat. “I always remember the last time we met,” she said, the words sounding husky in her throat.
      He did too. He having spent the whole of her wedding night fucking her, Ray stone-cold out of it on the hotel bedroom floor. And, with those words of hers stimulating his libido, he knew there and then he was simply going to have to have her again.
      For a few seconds you could cut the tension with a knife. Stepping closer, opening his mouth, he leaned forward, she reacting by parting her lips. The kiss was explosive, his containing twenty years of eager anticipation. For her part, he reckoned, there was the release of twenty years of pent up frustrations. 
      Moving his hand, he cradled her head, his other swiftly set to unbuttoning her blouse. His leg pressed between her thighs, her knee massaging his crotch, although his stiff cock really did not need any further stimulation. She looped an arm around his neck, her other set of fingers pulling on his straining zipper, her actions allowing his prick to spring forth from its restraining linen housing.
      His hand went under her skirt and slithered into her cotton panties, rubbing over her hair-covered area. That would have to be heavily trimmed or removed, he told himself. He yanked at the panties as best he could one-handed but they were too strong to rip. She clearly sensed the problem, levering herself up off the settee’s arm for a few seconds, allowing him to get them down her thighs, gravity doing the rest to take them to meet the polished-stone floor. 
      Right hand grasping his prize possession, he unsheathed his bulbous end from its foreskin. His other set of digits were rubbing her clitoris and fingering her labia. He eased two inside her opening. Horny slut, he thought, she was already wet inside. From memory, he recalled, she had always been quick to lubricate, particularly when he had anything to do with it. Prising her labia apart, he guided his penis to its target, thrusting his hips forward, driving his spike into her juicy interior. 
      “Oooh, Jodie,” he managed to moan during a short break in their smooching, his straining cock slithering right up her until its end butted her cervix. His balls bounced against her flesh. Her curly hairs chaffed at his bald skin, he always keeping his pubic area depilated for it made his equipment look even bigger than it was, and he reckoned it gave the right impression to those liberated people with whom he regularly partied. 
      Being buried to his balls in Jodie again was thrilling. She might not be as tight as she was when she was young, but what the hell, she had ejected three sprogs through that tube, and anyway, he was cuckolding that arsehole Ray again. 
      Flicking the clip of her bra, he yanked a cup down and grasped the pineapple-size content. It was perhaps a bit bigger, a little softer, than last time but it was still in great shape and condition. He doubted she had done much breast feeding, she not the type, he believed. The nipple was already standing proud and hard so he merely tightened his hold on her breast and cruelly pulled it upwards. Breaking off from his kissing, he sucked the raspberry-sized teat, grinding it gently between his teeth, whilst at the same time he rhythmically flexed his hips, pumping his cock back and forth.
      She started to whimper, top lip showing signs of perspiration, her pelvic region bucking to meet his thrusts. Other than the whore he had had in Singapore on the journey out to Australia and the prostitute in the Melbourne brothel on arrival, he had not had a woman for twenty-eight days. As a consequence, he knew he was packed with sperm that were eager for release. Happily, he felt a wad of his seed move from their silo and start to course through his drill.
      “Uuurrrggghhh!” he growled, bliss sweeping through him as he planted a copious amount into her womb. He kept pumping, making certain every globule was ejected, endeavouring to ensure Jodie reached climax. 
      The muscles in her vagina contracted, she evidently not having forgotten her training on how to squeeze out every last drop of a man’s seminal fluid. “A-a-a-a-a-a-aaah,” she moaned quietly, he well aware she had not been one for noisy orgasms, well not on the first one anyway.
      Smirking, he knew they still had that spark and he was certain he would have her in every orifice by the time she took her leave today. He calculated that she might try and say no, but he doubted she had become such a fool. She was a bright woman and knew the score, that he never took no for an answer. The way she was responding, he had every confidence that they would be fully fledged lovers again, leader and acolyte, ready to move onto the next stage in fulfilling his cravings. Some might think his hopes were depraved, but as far as he was concerned, they were the logical progression of his licentious life. Now that he possessed plenty of money he eagerly anticipated that the pair of them would soon be pursing every perversion his mind could conjure up.
      “Hell, Jodie, you’re still one fabulous screw,” he said, pulling a lecherous grin. 
      “Oh, Drake, you’ve no idea how I’ve missed you. How I’ve missed getting a real hard fucking. But … but … I shouldn’t have let you. Ray would be heartbroken.”
      “Good,” he said, coldly, that precisely what he intended. But for the moment he had to work on enmeshing her back into his life. “Let’s go and have a dip in the swimming pool, then we’ll eat.”



      
      

Chapter Three


Lolling against the arm of the settee, Jodie watched Drake walk to the glass doors that led outside onto the paved area, an array of thoughts and recollections popping into her head. Jodie knew she should not have had sex, she a married woman. Before arriving, she had assumed that after twenty years all they would have done was talk and reminisce. But her body had betrayed her. Her nipples had gone hard and her pussy had lubricated practically the second she had stepped over the threshold into the double-storey-high hall. She had felt sparks fly the minute Drake had kissed her cheeks. When he clamped his mouth over hers and probed with his tongue any feeble intention she might have had of resisting had flown, her libido simply erupting into flame. And anyway, she reasoned, how the hell was Ray ever going to find out. Not knowing was not going to kill him, and so what if he did find out, he would probably say nothing, simply pray for her soul. But, hell, did she really give a shit? She had had Drake’s big prick up her again and it had felt absolutely wonderful.
	He had taken her in the same way as before, with little tenderness but had given her a really thrilling hard fuck. She may not have squealed out her pleasure, but God she had had an orgasm – something that had been missing every time she copulated with Ray. As far as she could recall, the last time she had climaxed during sex was two decades ago, when Drake had fucked her on her wedding night. That night she had slipped the Mickey Finn that Drake had supplied into Ray’s complementary glass of champagne, leaving him lying upon the floor beside the bed for over nine hours whilst she and Drake fucked and fucked. Drake had been like a sex machine, humping her in every orifice several times. In fact, he did not stop all night, not until Ray made the first signs of rousing from his drug-induced slumber. Afterwards, it had been all right for Drake, he simply going on his way to his room to sleep the morning away, leaving her life forever. She however had to play the radiant bride looking forward to her honeymoon down in Victor Harbour, which was all Ray could afford. What with no sleep and having to walk bandy-legged it was a wonder she could pull it off, but she did, feigning a headache whenever he tried to become anything like intimate. Headaches had played a big part in her married life ever since. 
      She had known, even before she had set foot down the aisle, the marriage would be a mistake. But she had gone through with it because she was aware she was pregnant and thought Ray would make a better father. And, because of her upbringing in a strong Christian household, she had had this fanciful childhood notion of finding a good man, and helping him spread Christianity and assisting Third World children to read English. She had accepted his proposal of marriage, given her word long before setting foot in England. With Drake, it had been simply sex – lots of it, she had to confess. If she had reneged on her word to marry Ray her mother would have had a fit – and sex wasn’t everything. Well, at the time she had thought there were other things beside the constant pursuit of pleasure.
      Back then, at the start of her visit, her intention had been to stay at Drake’s for only a couple of days but on the second night he had raped her. Once however he had gotten that big dick of his into her she was well and truly nailed. He was fifteen years her senior, assertive, masterful, taking what he wanted. On their first weekend together he took her to a BDSM party, gagged and on a lead. The whole ambiance of the event had amazed her, she being intrigued and fascinated, and she was simply awestruck when she watched how many women he screwed that night, many of them appearing to treat him like some deity – but then he possessed remarkable staying powers.
      He told her afterwards that everything in the Scene was consensual, that no one could beat a submissive beyond the boundaries they set. She informed him that she did not like being a slave. After that, he quite happily trained her to be a dominant. She found that making a submissive do her bidding was arousing and gladly threw herself into the unbridled, multi-partner, sex that was the mainstay of each party.  
      They had shared many fantasies with each other whilst in a state of post-coital bliss. His were truly perverted, but they did not really revolt her, strange that, she thought, not only then but now.  He had not been wealthy, merely having an income sufficient for his needs and to enable him to spend alternate weekends at one or other BDSM party. Now, he had apparently won a fortune and she just instinctively knew he would move his game to a much more vicious and depraved level.
      She was glad that both Michaela and Sarah were in their late teen. In several of their past post-coital chats he had often told her what he would love to do to any daughters he had. Of course, her eldest had been fathered by Drake, not that she had told anyone, but she presumed he was clever enough to have worked it out. Ray, if he knew, was way too polite to talk about such a thing. If anything, he would have probably apologised to her – he was always so damned conciliatory. 
      Her mind came back to the present. Drake opened the French doors wide and stepped out onto the rough-hewn flagstones. Pulling off his shirt, he tossed it towards the patio furniture, his trousers following as did his loafers. For a man of fifty-five he still possessed an impressive body, she concluded, torso well muscled, upper arms like hams, flattish stomach, and that enormous prick swinging like an elephant’s truck.
      “Come on, Jodie; join me in a nude swim,” he said before diving into the swimming pool.
      Watching him do the Australian crawl to the shallow end, she was thinking that time did not always treat women fairly. She had kept herself pretty trim and fit but appreciated she was no longer like she had been at twenty. For a start, her stomach bulged slightly, like a teenager with puppy fat, and her breasts sagged a little.  
      Standing up, he wiped the water from his face with his hands. “Don’t be bashful. Remember, you’re a liberated sexy woman.”
      No one had told her that since he had the morning after her wedding. She was in a quandary, knowing that if she joined him now there would be no turning back. If he wanted her, she would be his. Ray would effectively be abandoned as she indulged in secret trysts. Could she do that to him? “Fuck it,” she said loudly, proceeding to peel off her clothing. She stood there hesitant for a few moments, so he could see her naked, praying that he still found her attractive.
      “Hell, Jodie, your sexier now than you were twenty years ago. I love that little curve of your stomach, reminds me of those college girls I always want to fuck.” And as if to reinforce his words, his cock reared up out of the water. 
      That was it, he was obviously lusting for her, and she was certainly lusting for him. She launched herself into the pool, the silken texture of the warm, ozone-purified, waters feeling simply wonderful against her totally bare skin. Powering herself down the pool, she had always been a powerful swimmer, hence her well-developed boobs, she came to a stop beside him. Reaching out her hand, she stroked the head of his penis, it feeling hot and very firm. “You realise this is a big step for me. I’m in danger of abandoning everything that’s been my life for twenty years.”
      “God, Jodie, you’ve still got a better body than most girls half your age,” he said, his hands starting to gently caress her breasts, fingers pinching her nipples to an even more painful hardness. 
      She was not naive, he had had plenty of girls over the years and undoubtedly would in the future but her ego soared. Somehow though, she knew he meant what he said. “Thank you, honey; you really do know how to flatter me.”
      “No need to flatter, it’s the truth. And, you needn’t worry about your future. Trust me, if you give yourself unrestrainedly I promise you’ll be happier than you ever imagined possible.”
      That remained to be seen, she thought, cocking her head slightly as she weighed his words. He had certainly re-fired her libido and reignited her long-dormant baser nature. She had a good idea what she would be getting into, knowing that if she did give herself wholeheartedly there would be no turning back. Could she trust him? She decided, it surely better to have a short life packed with the sort of excitement he had in mind rather than live long and be filled with regrets. And, barring those first few days in England, he had never forced her to do anything against her will. She decided, saying out loud, “Fuck the consequences, I’m yours, honey.”
      With that she moved up close and kissed him this time, sliding her tongue deep into his mouth. Their arms enfolded each other, caressing, massaging and fondling. He pressed his knee against her clitoris, not that she need much stimulation, her pussy already juicing up. Pressing her thigh to his genitalia, she felt how hot and stiff that wonderful big muscle of his was. He keeping that area devoid of hair had always been such a turn-on for her, and it was again now. 
      His hands cupped her buttocks and lifted her part way out of the water, and he pushed her up against the side of the pool. Slithering her hand down between them, she took hold of his prick and guided it to her hungry opening, he doing the rest with a powerful thrust of his pelvis. “Oh yes,” she whispered, lovingly wrapping her legs about him, crooking an arm around his neck before returning to kissing his gaping mouth.
      Throughout her active sex life she had not been much of a shouter, except when with Drake and/or at one of those BDSM parties. The boys she had dated prior to that were, well, boys, simply after a quick lay. Ray did what he evidently saw as his duty and she would fake it, but he was literally not half the man Drake was, and he certainly did not possess the same sort of insatiable debauched appetite. He was strictly a missionary position once a month type. Now, it was like the two intervening decades had rolled back, she happily shouting, “Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!  God, Drake, hammer that cock into me!”
      “That’s better, baby, let your hair down! Be liberated! Be wanton!” he responded, snorting, driving up and down inside her, humping harder, delivering fantastic-feeling long strokes, stoking her rapidly building pleasure.   
      He really was still a sex-machine, she concluded. “Harder! Harder! Harder! Make me squeal!” His thrusting was ever faster, driving her over the brink, she blissfully wailing as a luscious orgasm swept from her cunt, “O-o-o-yeeeaaahhh!”
      “Uuurrrggghhh!” he grunted, planting his sperm, continuing thrusting until he squirted out every drop.
      Squeezing her thighs tightly, she had another delightful climax. “O-o-o-yeeeaaahhh!”
      Smirking with obvious contentment, he carried her whilst still embedded, over to the fan-shaped set of steps that were in the corner of the pool and up them onto the patio, to the teak garden table. An array of food was waiting, under fly-proof covers, there also a couple of cool-boxes too. 
      “Was that to your liking?” he asked, lowering her until her buttocks were sat firmly upon the tabletop, he proceeding to ease out his now-deflating sword. 
      “Oh, hell, Drake, you know it was.” She felt alive, tingling all over.
      “Better than that wimp Ray?” He did not await her reply, simply lowering his head, setting to work eating her out. His tongue rasped against her clitoris, instantly sending a shockwave through her.
      “O-oh, o-oh, G-god, honey, d-don’t mention R-Ray. He’s not … n-not in the-the same l-league as y-you.” Perhaps she should be wrestling with her conscience, she thought, but lust was fortunately blotting out all of her hang-ups. He had not lost his touch, Drake certainly knowing how to use his tongue, lapping her labia and on into her interior, taking her to yet another orgasm. “O-o-o-yeeeaaahhh!” By the time he had finish, her legs felt like jelly, it all she could do to slither to her feet and quickly sit down on the nearest wooden-slatted chair. 
      The food was good – it plain and simple. He poured her a glass of chilled chardonnay – he clearly remembering her favourite drink. They chatted away between mouthfuls, he telling her how he had seen the house for sale on an internet site, and bought it sight unseen, he relying on a friend of a friend in the BDSM scene to confirm it was as described. She told him a bit about her life – living as a missionary’s wife in Papua New Guinea, Vanuatu, the Philippines, Borneo, and in various Aboriginal Settlements in the Northern Territory. 
        He told her frankly about the many women he had had over the past twenty years. She confessed that there had only been Ray in her bed, and that she had binned the small collection of vibrators Drake had given her, just in case her husband discovered them, so her fingers had become well-practised. She felt a lot was left unsaid, but it was after all effectively only their first date. Certainly, she was keen to ask him what his intentions were but decided against it for the time being, she certain he would tell all the next time they met. All she knew at that moment was that she suspected that by the time she went home this afternoon he would no doubt have had her in every orifice. It sent a quiver of anticipation down her spine.
      Glancing at her wristwatch, she reckoned they had at best a couple of hours before she would need to leave. He topped up her glass before levering himself to his feet, coming to stand at the end of the table, his prize salami semi-hard and arching out in front of him. She picked up her last peeled banana prawn, swirled it in the remaining rose-marie sauce, and proceeded to feed it between her lips seductively. Taking a mouthful of her drink, she swished it around and swallowed, cleaning her palate.  
	Holding his proffered hand, she pulled herself up onto her feet. Leisurely, she planted little delicate kisses to his chin and neck, moving down over his muscle-bulging chest as she sank gradually to her knees. Her tongue played in his navel, then trailed down to the base of his great snake, the shaft rubbing against the side of her face. Opening wide, she sucked in the expanding crown, waggling her tongue from side to side, tasting the tang of dried sperm and vaginal juice. Using one set of fingers, she played with the hairless scrotum, gently stretching the soft skin, manipulating the contents – as he had taught her to do back in those days in England. Depilation was part of his way of life and he would no doubt expect her to follow suit. How would she explain that away, she wondered?
	Stretching her jaw to its limit, she put her head back, straightening her airway in an attempt to swallow his length. Standing over her, he fed his prick in, ever deeper down her windpipe. Like riding a bike, she was pleased to discover she had not forgotten how to take a cock deep-throat. Starting to emit a resonant hum, knowing it would stimulate him more, she left it to him to control the throat-fuck, she in no position to move her head. His hands clamped the sides of her skull, he easing his manhood up and down. She knew he would take his time so breathed in when able, holding her breath as much as possible. If she got into difficulties she knew the signal to make, both arms outstretched, and she had every confidence he was not going to hurt her, merely intent of pleasuring the pair of them. 
      “Urrrgh … urrrgh … urrrgh,” he started groaning, she feeling his cock twitching. His body tensed, muscles tautening, his one-eyed serpent spraying out a copious amount of sperm, she feeling the generous globules slither down towards her stomach. “Uuurrrggghhh!” he snorted.
         He carefully withdrew and helped her up onto her feet. She was delighted to see the glint in his steel-grey eyes and that primeval smirk of satisfaction on his face. Using her little finger, she spooned a droplet of his cum from her chin, depositing it onto her tongue. Before she could swallow, he slobbered a series of passionate kisses to her mouth. “You’re mine again, aren’t you, Jodie,” he said, more in the fashion of a statement rather than a question.
      Conflicting heartstrings were being plucked. A part of her wanted to say no – a little part. But she knew, she was hooked again and this time suspected that he would never let her go. And, with all that money he claimed to have, she was certain his future play would emulate his fantasies. “Oh, Drake, you’ve been the only real man in my life but I’m married to Ray.”
      “Choose, Jodie. You’re going to be mine one way or the other.”
      She understood the nature of his threat. He wanted her and would have her regardless. What was the point of resisting, she asked herself? He was arrogant, he was demanding, but all this simply excited her, brought out all those baser desires she had done her best to suppress for all these years, and anyway all that money meant she would never need to go without again.  
      Making her mind up, she oozed, “Oh, Drake, honey, you know I want you.”
      A look of triumph swept onto his face. “I prayed you would. I promise, Jodie, you won’t regret it. But now, baby, press those gorgeous tits of yours to the table.”
      Well aware of what was coming, she did as requested, squashing her breasts against the slats. Reaching behind, she clasped her buttocks and pulled them apart. “Remember, honey, I’ve had nothing up there for twenty years so please do be careful.”
      Leaning over her, his hardness pressing against the back of her left thigh, he reached for the tub of olive-based spread, popping the lid off. Sticking two fingers into the soft contents, he scooped out a large dollop, soon massaging it around her sphincter. Forcing the fingers in, he worked them around and around, lubricating the opening, stretching it. Never having been buggered since her wedding night, she involuntarily tensed.
      “Are you telling me that loser Ray has never had you in the arse,” he said, snidely. 
      “Ray would have a fit even if I suggested oral never mind anal. He’s strictly missionary,” she replied, candidly.
      “What a fucking jerk,” he snorted contemptuously. “Just relax, baby. You know how to take it.”
      His fingers were still massaging her anal ring when he stretched out his other hand and took another helping of spread, she presuming he was using it to coat his big end. His digits were extracted from her anus, something thicker and hotter being pushed against the entrance. Maintaining a remorseless pressure, his prick slowly but certainly forced it to open. 
      “Ooowww, a-a-a-a-a-aaarrrgh” she groaned, recalling the same sensation of discomfort the first time he had buggered her. On that occasion it had been worse, he had taken her by force that second night of her stay. He had only shown any consideration when she had elected to join him, become his trainee dominant. 
      His penis spread her rear tube as he probed deeper. Stopping and pulling back, he thrust forward, repeating the action again and again. As the sensations started building it brought back happy memories of the wantonness of it all. It was, she reckoned, one of the great perversions available to the human race. Knowing he had fired four loads already today, she guessed she was in for one long fuck. 
      “You all right?” he asked.  
      “Owww, hell, yes! Go on, bugger me! Harder! Screw my arse off, honey! Phew!” Her nerve endings were tingling, sending lascivious sensations to her brain. She was starting to perspire, her breath was rasping, her back was bowing, her hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles turning white. 
      “Sure, baby. Any-anything you-you say!” Drake replied, starting to puff. His hands slipped under her, grasping both breasts tightly. He bucked his hips faster, pressing his sweat-covered chest against her wet back, his tongue licking at her right ear. 
      Her rectal muscles went into spasm, giving her an anal orgasm, it soon followed by another, and another, and another. “O-o-o-yeeeaaahhh, fuuuckiiing heeell!” she squealed. 
      It did not stop there, he simply continuing to pump up and down. It felt as if her back passage exploded, a really stupendous fifth climax literally rocking her to the core, “Yeeeeeeaaaaaahhhhhh!”
      At that same moment, she felt him stiffen and pour forth a jet of semen, he growling as he did, “Uuurrrggghhh!”
      He collapsed down onto her, they staying in that position of post-coital bliss for something like fifteen minutes, all the time he planting little kisses to her shoulders and neck. At length he spoke, saying, “Oh, Jodie, baby, you’ve not lost that ability to give a man a great time. Why the fuck I didn’t take you away from that arsehole Ray on your wedding night I don’t know. I must’ve been crazy.”
      Her ego soared, that was praise indeed coming from him. She did not want to admit it, but she too wondered why she had not abandoned Ray on that night. 
      Drake straightened up, there that delicious feeling as his flaccid cock slipped out of her still-buzzing rectum. Then there was the sensation of a modicum of her pulverised excreta seeping out of the gaping opening, it trickling a warm path down the inside of her thigh. In the past, a submissive would have been expected to lick her leg and his manhood clean. There however was no submissive available. Thinking it would show her commitment, she was about to turn around and suck him when she felt him press his face between her bum-cheeks, his tongue rimming her anus. He poked his tongue deep and tickled her swiftly to yet another orgasm, she unable to avoid secreting a soupcon more of liquefied effluent. Worrying that he might be annoyed, she looked over her shoulder, thankfully seeing him grinning at her like the proverbial Cheshire cat. He really was debauched, she simply hoping that she had the nerve to emulate him.
        Slithering from the table, to her knees, she shuffled around, coiling a finger and thumb about the base of his shaft. Even flaccid it looked plump and gorgeous, it currently bedecked with ribbons of his cum and her own brand of chocolate sauce.
      It made her gag a little, the taste musty, but nevertheless she worked along one side and then the other, licking it clean. She lapped the crown carefully, paying particular attention to behind the corona. Taking the end into her mouth, she closed her jaws ever so slightly before pulling away, using the backs of her teeth to roll his foreskin into its cloaking position. 
      “Hell, Jodie, you’re one horny woman. I never thought you’d do that without prompting. Suppose I’d best buy you a birthday present to celebrate our reunion. How does that sports car you’ve always wanted sound?”
      Being with him did indeed seem to hold out the prospects of material benefits besides the wanton ones. “Oh, Drake, you remembered. Make certain its black, like your heart and mine.” 
      “Hmm, hmm,” he chuckled, as if agreeing. 
      Glancing at her wristwatch, she suddenly realised how late it was getting. Rubbing her breast against his body, she snaked her way upward to get to her feet. “Sorry, honey, I’m going to have to fly. Ray will start fretting if I’m home late. He’ll think I’ve been in an accident or something.”
      “Who gives a shit about Ray!” he emphatically stated. “Let’s have a quick swim and then I’ll show you the master bedroom where I’ll fuck you again whilst I give you some idea about my plans and we can also arrange when we’ll meet up again.”
       It only took her milliseconds to arrive at her conclusion. “You’re right. Screw Ray. Fuck me, Drake, honey. Fuck me again!”




Chapter Four


It was four weeks after that first meeting, Jodie nervous as hell, and excited too. Juice was seeping out of her vagina, wetting her labia and her perineum, she worrying that a wet patch may soon appear either on the front or rear on her best frock as she was not wearing any panties.
	She was yet again steering the Corolla along the road to Drake’s home, but this time Ray was sat beside her, and Michaela, Sarah and Luke were in the back seats. “I know, Ray, I can see the bends!” she snapped, irritated, he having constantly been “back-seat driving”.
      “Mum, I still don’t know why we’re going to see this guy, we don’t know him,” Luke said.
      “I’ve told you. Drake Harmon is my mum’s cousin. He’s come out to Australia on holiday to see if he likes it enough to emigrate here. He was at mine and your father’s wedding. Your grandma saw him the other day and reminded him that today is my birthday and our wedding anniversary. Evidently, he’s due to go back to England in a day or so and this was the only evening he had free. So, he’s invited us up to celebrate in this big house he’s renting,” she replied, slightly irritated at the question, hoping she lied convincingly.
      She had maintained the pretence that she had not seen him for twenty years – it better that way, keeping her family in the dark. But of course she had, not only that first time four weeks ago, but three or four times per week since. Sometimes she sneaked up to the house, other times it was in a discrete motel in the suburbs on the days he had business in the city. She never stayed overnight, although he did on a couple of occasions, she always leaving at 4.00 p.m., Ray having been exceedingly anxious on the day of the first tryst, it gone 7.00 p.m. when she had gotten home. He had been on the point of calling the police. Drake agreed with her, it was best not to get Ray so concerned about her safety that he did something that might lead to them being found out. 
       Of course, Drake did not spend those nights in the motel alone, she well aware he made use of prostitutes. She had seen one too, accidently. Running late, she had just climbed into her car to go home when she had seen an obviously high-class whore, a leggy blonde, aged about eighteen, walk up to his door and swiftly go inside. There had not been even the slightest twinge of jealousy on her part, she well aware she would be sharing his bed on a much more permanent basis pretty soon. She had simply marvelled at his stamina.
      Thank God, she thought, as at last she steered into the end of his driveway. She announced their arrival over the intercom, the gates rolling back. The first sight of the house brought forth gasps of amazement, she joining in as part of her charade.
      Drake greeted them cordially, giving them a conducted tour of the seven-bedroom, nine-bathroom, building. “All the ceilings except that in the hall, which is twice as high, are twelve foot,” he said, so that helps to keep them light and airy. She wished he would use metric. He showed them the gymnasium with its small indoor swimming pool, as well as the much bigger one outside. Her children seemed impressed, Ray not so. She reckoned he was a little uneasy about the ostentatious display of wealth, he having always stated that it was immoral whilst so many people in the world struggled to survive on a dollar a day. If he had his way, everyone on the planet would live in similar-sized wooden cabins. 
      When they at last arrived in the dining room, they found it laid out ready, the long built-in sideboard laden with an assortment of foods and drinks. “I have to confess, I got outside caterers in. I wanted it to be edible,” Drake said, before inviting them to take their seats.
      Jodie sipped a glass of chardonnay, Drake and the two girls doing likewise. Ray and Luke, a chip off the same block, took a moral stance and confined themselves to water.
      They ate their starters and their main courses before Drake excused himself and went to the kitchen, returning carrying a tray on which were six, long-stemmed, margarita glasses.  “This is a lemon sorbet. It’ll clean the palate ready for the pudding,” he said, handing them out.
      That was her signal. A shiver of anticipation ran up and down her spine, butterflies started exercising their wings. “I’ve got to go to the loo. Please excuse me,” she said, getting up and teetering towards the door.
      “Are you all right, darling? You look rather pale and unsteady on your feet,” Ray said, showing concerned.
      “Don’t fuss! I’ll be fine once I’ve been to the bathroom!” she snapped. 
      “Use one of the en-suites, the bedroom wing is the nearest to here,” Drake advised, obviously throwing up a smokescreen, trying to ensure no one suspected she fully knew her way around the house. The last words she heard him say as she walked into the corridor were, “The rest of you, do tuck in. There’s no point in letting the sorbet melt just because someone has a weak bladder.”
      Whilst walking to the master bedroom she did indeed develop a need to urinate, her stomach starting to knot. She made her way straight to the on-suite. The seat was up. Typical, she thought, Ray would have ensured he left it down, Drake on the other hand that it was up, he having no intention of pandering to women. There wasn’t time to mess around, she had to be quick. Hitching up her dress, bending her legs slightly, she hooked open her labia and proceeded to piss like a man, spraying out a jet of warm fluid. “God, that feels wonderful,” she muttered. “I’ve not done this in a house for twenty years.”
      Not bothering to wipe down, she stepped back into the bedroom whilst unclipping the hooks and eyes of her four-year-old best dress, it a brown colour covered with cream polka-dots. She let it drop to the floor. Hopefully, she would not need to wear it again. Unfastening her bra, she tossed it aside. 
      Spread out on the giant-sized bed, awaiting her, was all her new gear Drake had had made for her as a birthday present. She had not worn leather since her days in England, before returning to Australia for her wedding. Now there was a complete set of items crafted in the finest maroon-coloured morocco leather.  She slipped on the thong, the tiny triangle merely covering her clitoris and hairless labia, she having shaved away all her pubic hair surreptitiously this morning. Pulling the straps of the bustier tight, she ensured that the half-cups held her breasts snugly, her nipples cradled in the concave cut-outs. She slipped on the arm-length fingerless gloves before fitting the spiked cuffs around her wrists and collar about her neck. “They do look pleasingly vicious,” she muttered. Sliding her feet into the thigh-boots, she pulled the long zippers up, hoping she could still walk on five-inch spike heels. Picking up the riding crop, she strode purposefully back to the dining room, feeling empowered, feeling that same buzz that she had experienced all those years ago.
      “Hope you like what you see, honey?” she said, stepping through the door.
      “You look fucking gorgeous, baby,” Drake responded, grinning evilly, he rising from the table revealing a prominent bulge in his trouser front.
      Contentedly, she noted how both Ray and Luke’s eyes seemed to slowly saucer, their mouths seeming to open in slow motion. Michaela and Sarah sluggishly swivelled their heads to look in her direction, their faces commencing to register surprise. “Are they, you know, honey?” Jodie asked, wondering if his plan had worked.
      “It was as easy as fucking pie. The drug will keep ’em really stupefied for at least an hour or two but we still need to work fast.”  He went to a drawer in the sideboard and pulled out four black-leather hoods, tossing two of them at her.
      She pulled one over Ray’s head making certain his nose poked through the only hole, and that the hard-plastic lug fitted into his mouth, before securing it. She proceeded to do the same thing to her son whilst watching Drake fit one over Michaela’s head. As soon as he had done that he pushed his hand down her cleavage, saying, “I’m pleased my daughter has inherited her mother’s big tits.”
      It was the first time he had raised the subject. “So you do know she’s yours then,” Jodie said. “Yes, honey, they’re as big as you like them.”
      “Of course I know she’s my daughter.” After extracting his hand from between Michaela’s breast, he did the self-same thing to Sarah. “Not bad. Not pineapples but certainly as big as large oranges so I presume she’s got them from Ray’s side.” 
      She had gotten much from her father, Jodie surmised, the girl being three inches shorter than her half-sister, and more delicately built too, and brown eyes instead of blue.  Jodie almost creamed herself with wanton excitement when it sank in there and then as to what she had done. She had freely given her soul to the most evil man she had ever met, wilfully selling her family into slavery. Hell, it felt so good. 
      “I can hardly wait two days to give Sarah my eleven-inch present. But never mind, I’ll be patient as there’s Michaela to play with first. Now, let’s get them downstairs.” With those words, Drake came round to her side of the table and pulled Ray from his chair and slung him over his shoulder. “Always secure the biggest threat first, Jodie” he reminded her, he having taught her that way back.
      Assisting by opening the door, Jodie accompanied him, curious to see the finished underground complex.  She had only seen it that first visit, men still working to finish the job. The whole project had been completed in record time, the friend of a friend having found the necessary craftsmen from contacts in the Australian BDSM scene. Slave labour had been used too, illegal immigrants forced to work for their owner who kept them on his property in Queensland. If, by any misfortune, any nosey official ever found out about the place Drake intended to say it was a nuclear bunker that doubled as a safe place in case of a severe bushfire or attack by a criminal gang.
      They went through the kitchen and down six broad steps into the sunken wine-storage area – it not a proper cellar, the floor only a metre below the surface of the ground. She pressed the secret buttons, easing one of the racks away from the wall. Extracting a bunch of keys from his pocket, he gave them to her to unlock the reinforced door. This revealed a long flight of wide steps leading down to an even more substantial air-tight steel door. Beyond it was a hexagonal lobby. The left-hand angled wall facing them contained a double-door that she knew led into a large circular chamber some twenty-five metres in diameter – although Drake would insist on saying seventy-five feet – there a storeroom and a machinery room leading from it. She unlocked one of the double doors in the right-hand angled wall and they stepped into a corridor, there twelve cells and a kitchen down one side, twelve more and a storeroom down the other. At the far end of the corridor there was a further room that containing two toilets and a large shower area. 
      “We’ll use the first cell on the right,” Drake said, pushing the door open with his foot.
      It was Spartan inside, merely a wooden-slatted bed with a plastic storage box upon it. There was nothing else except for two short lengths of chain, a hook on the end of each, dangling from sockets in the ceiling. Laying Ray on the floor, Drake said, “Right, baby, get him stripped whilst I get what we need.”
      “Okay, honey.” Jodie squatted, ripping open Ray’s shirt, yanking open his trousers, pulling all his clothing off.
      Out of the box, Drake produced a set of cuffs, a bar-stretcher, a tube of KY Jelly, a medium-sized butt plug made of black plastic and a retention harness. “No wonder you came back to me,” he sniggered, pressing his foot to Ray’s limp dick, it certainly no match for his.
      Between the two of them they soon had Ray trussed, the butt plug forced into his anus and fastened into place. She accompanied him on his three further trips as he carried the others down to their cells, the same procedure adopted as with Ray.
      “Are you going to start training any of them tonight?” she asked, hoping that perhaps he was.
      “God, Jodie, you’re an eager bitch. It’s probably why I love you so much,” he replied, ushering her from Sarah’s cell, locking the door behind him. “Much as I crave getting up my daughter’s cunt tonight it’ll have to wait until tomorrow. The drug won’t fully wear off for some time and there’s no point in training someone who is stupefied and therefore not truly terrified. So, it’ll be best if we go upstairs and finish our meal.”
      Back in the dining room, she did not make it to her chair, he spinning her around and pulling her tight to him, both passionately kissing the other. Breaking for air, she said, “Hell, Drake, I never fucking thought we’d pull it off.”
      Smirking, he replied, “I had doubts myself, baby, but we have. You do fully realise though, there’s no turning back? The die is cast, this merely the start. We’ve stepped into what many would think was an immoral abyss and we’re going to be practicing every depravity we can devise.”
      She did understood, possibly not fully, but she had made a conscious decision. There had been some concerns obviously, some moral hang-ups, her conscience had tried its best to influence her judgement, but thank God, her mother’s favourite words of admonishment during her childhood and teenage years had conquered – “You’re a bad girl, Jodie, and you’ll go straight to hell.” Now, she intended to prove her mother correct. “Depravity is something I crave, Drake, honey!”
      Using an arm to sweep some of the crockery and cutlery out of the way, he pushed her backwards onto the tabletop. She spread her legs, unclipped the thong and pulled it off, exposing her cunt, eager for him to push his thick meat into it. 
      His fingers parted her labia, his thumb stroked hard against her clitoris. “Jodie, baby, you’re such a horny bitch. Your snatch is simply soaking.”
      He was right; she was as horny as hell, having anticipated being fucked for most of the day. “What did you expect? I’ve been gagging for a real man up my cunt,” she cheerily replied, happy for him to do whatever he liked.
      “Love the bald pussy.” He eased his penis from his trousers, exposed the crown and then pulled her labia apart, pushing in his giant pleasure stick. 
      “Ooowww, yeah, that’s so nice.” She ripped open his shirt, buttons pinging in various directions, intent on kissing his chest, and getting her nails to scratch his skin.
      “By the way, you’re going to be busy tomorrow. First thing, go see your mother and tell her the cover story. Then go into the city and hand over the Corolla to one of my friend’s acquaintances. I’ll give you the details later. He’ll get rid of the car and the contents of the house you’re renting. Buy a few clothes if you like at Myers whilst your there. But you’ve got to take a taxi to the beauty parlour at Clover Ridge as I’ve arrange for you to have some pampering. After, walk across the road to Beckwith’s Motors and pick up your sports car.”
      Surprised, she squealed, “Oh, honey, you’re so good to me!” She was delighted; secure in the knowledge she had indeed made the right decision, materialism already proving to be far more rewarding than spiritual things. Pleasure was starting to flow from her crotch. “Ow-ow-ow-ow,” she moaned. “But-but promise me-me you won’t do-do anything … anything tomorrow … without me. I-I want … want to see you … see you rape my daughters!”
      “Nasty. You’re one real nasty bitch. Hell, of course I’ll wait. I’ll just have to, won’t I? Now, wrap those legs of yours around me and your arms too. I’ll carry you to the bedroom. Then we’ll fuck to celebrate our achievements so far.”
      He was of course as good as his word, it therefore very late when the pair of them settled down to sleep.
      Early next morning, Drake woke her with a gentle shake, handing her breakfast on a tray. There was some fruit, a bowl of cereal, a tumbler of orange juice and a glass filled with what looked like a strawberry milkshake. “That’s an elixir I use, it helps give me the stamina for all this sex. Drink it up,” he said.
      She ate and drank quickly and was soon on her way. A modicum of nervousness started to build as she drove to her mother’s, worrying that she might not be able to lie convincingly enough. Remarkably, or so she thought, the anxieties evaporated when she walked through the front door. Confidently spinning her story, she explained that Ray had received an urgent call to take up a position in a remote part of the Cape York Peninsular, the present incumbent having died in a tragic accident. She and the whole of her family were therefore leaving in a few hours. Kissing her mother farewell, she strode from her old home smirking, congratulating herself on her ability to be deceitful. 
      Parking in the multi-storey car park, she spotted the tubby man Drake had told her would be there and handed him her car keys and those for the property she and Ray had been renting, he employed to dispose of everything. In the department store she used the credit card Drake had given her, drawn on one of the businesses he had set up, purchasing six frocks, some skirts, blouses and several sets of underwear. Armed with six bulging carrier bags, she hopped into a taxi, making a dash for the beauty parlour that was located in the suburbs. 
      She had the works, starting with a massage and a facial. Her hair was dyed a deep reddish-brown, her eyebrows plucked, her legs and crotch waxed, the latter having the remaining miscreant hairs removed by the use of tweezers. For a bit of a giggle, she had a set of long, thick, false eyelashes fitted, she reckoning they making her look a bit like a stripper or hooker. That gave her a bit of an impish thrill, she believing it would also be right up Drake’s street. Opting to have long, square-cut, acrylic nails fitted, she sat patiently as a pretty little Australian-born Vietnamese called Mai did the work and gave them a coat of clear lacquer.  Jodie could not help herself. Whilst staring at the girl’s serene face, she wondered what it would be like to have her as a personal slave. Perhaps Drake would consider letting her have such a maid at a later date?   
      Jodie had arrived wearing that old polka-dot dress of hers. The only other clothing she had at Drake’s house was the leather gear and, as much as it appealed, she had decided not to wear it outside just yet. So, she opened one of her carrier bags and took out some red high-heels, a matching patent-leather skirt and a see-though chiffon blouse, putting them on without underwear. 
      Whilst paying with the credit card, she asked if it was possible for Mai to help carry her bags across the street, she wafting her nails and advising that she had no wish to damage them. The pair of them stepped out of the shop and across the bitumen, making certain she hung back a little, so that she could examine the girl’s rear. It was beautifully rounded, and swaying. If she was going to get Drake’s approval to her idea she had to be able to get his libido interested. As the girl waggled in front, Jodie simply juiced, a delicious wicked feeling starting to percolate in her vulva.  
      “Just put the bags down here, Mai,” she said, once they we safely inside the showroom. She handed Mai a fifty dollar note, making certain she caressed her hand, trying to appear to be innocently over-friendly. By being generous with the tip, she hoped to win the girl’s confidence, make her feel appreciated. One day in the future it would make it so much easier for her to execute her still-formulating plan. “Thank you so much for your assistance. You can run along now but I’m looking forward to seeing you later this week,” she oozed, shaking the girl’s hand.
      A salesman in a suit, with slick-backed hair, came bustling over, his eyes clearly scanning her. “G’day, madam,” he said, seeming to have difficulty in keeping his tongue from lolling out of his mouth.
      It gave her a buzz, being lusted after. “Good afternoon. I believe a Mister Drake Harmon has arranged for me to pick up a car. It’s a surprise anniversary present. I’m just hoping he wasn’t joshing me when he said it was a sports car.”
      “Yes indeed, Mrs Harmon, it’s a top of the range SL65 in black and it’s all ready for you. Let me give you a hand with you bags,” the salesman replied, stooping to gather up her carriers. 
      Fuck me, she thought appreciatively; she could certainly get use to playing the role of Drake’s wife if it meant these sorts of rewards. 





      

Chapter Five


Having watched Jodie go on her way, Drake went into the gymnasium and did what was his normal early morning routine.  He warmed up by prancing around the punch-bag whilst hammering it with his fists. Afterwards, he pumped iron on the multi-gym for fifteen minutes, following that with five minutes of skipping. Sweating profusely, he plunged into the tepid waters of the indoor pool before climbing out, drying himself on a big fluffy bath-sheet as he made his way into the kitchen. 
	Going to the larder cupboard, he lifted out one of his pre-made elixir drinks. Giving it a violent shake, he unscrewed the top and gulped down the contents. It was stuff he prepared himself, having been shown how to do it in England. The contents included ingredients to bulked-up his muscles, increased his testosterone, and provided something akin to Viagra that kept his libido high. Of course, it would be banded in most parts of the world if the authorities knew about it. But, all he cared about was that since he had been taking it, for the last five years, he had never been fitter, never more aggressive or never so damned horny. He had given Jodie half a dose this morning, merely to see what effect, if any,  it had on her during the next twenty-four hours, hoping it would stimulate her in a similar way without giving her the same sort of muscles as he possessed. Depending on what happened, he would tell her about it tomorrow, or the day after. 
 	Walking out onto the patio, he dived into the pool, swimming ten lengths. Climbing out, he patted himself dry as he wandered indoors, into the study and switched on the computer. Catching a glimpse of his genitalia reflected in the screen, before it booted up, he put his hand to his balls, fondling them, they big and weighty. If they were not in action there was nothing he liked better than playing with them whilst thinking about their future use. 
      He was a lucky guy, he appreciated that, but that was why he made damned certain he employed his equipment to the fullest. As far as he was concerned, he had an absolute right to use it anyway he could. There had been plenty of women before Jodie had come to stay with him in England, and plenty since. He reckoned that there must have been two thousand different ones after her. Then of course there were the males he performed with, just for the power-thrill that buggering gave him. But all this had only expanded his cravings, some of which were satisfied when he had met his special friend, Graham Parker, who freely admitted himself that he was a bit of a sleazy fitness trainer. It was Parker who had given him the elixir’s formula. He had also introduced him to a clique who had trained their offspring to satisfy men’s urges. What was more; it was Parker as a member of the tight-knit group of five men who, when one died, invited Drake to join them. Their predilection was to snatch a teenager, rape him, torture him and then kill him. The trouble was, as far as Drake was concerned, that only happened about once a year, and then it was all sort of hurried and done in some squalid hovel. Drake wanted to do such things leisurely and in style. Now he had the money, he was determined to indulge himself. 
      Sitting down in front of the keyboard, reaching for the mouse, he aimed it at the email icon, clicking and watching them start to fill the inbox. Whilst waiting, he pondered several thoughts. He did have reservations about Jodie, but thankfully she at present seemed keen to assist him. Her sexual performances were definitely fantastic, she appearing more horny and enthusiastic than when she had been twenty. But perhaps that was solely due to two decades of chasteness and would merely burn itself out? However, she hadn’t baulked at anything he had said and had gone along with his suggested solution to removing the impediment for her to practice unrestrained self-indulgence – turning her husband and children into slaves. Of course, he had not told her everything about his plans, it best to keep her in the dark.   
      He went through the emails deleting most, printing two, before he came to the one that he had prayed for. Eagerly, he opened it. There was apparently no originator, simply a short message: “Expect 4, last Friday of August – U.P.S.S.”  
      That was only four weeks away. His cock reared up excitedly. The next phase of his plans had just received the green light. Taking the purple highlighter, lifting the page of the calendar, he circled 29th August, saying, “Hurry up Jodie and get home. We’ve work to do now.”
      There was little chance of her returning early, he knew that, she was shopping and at the beauty parlour – she was a woman and would therefore be hours. He was desperately keen to get downstairs, but he had promised to wait, so wait he would.  To while away the time, he flicked though dozens of porn sites, admiring some of the pussy on display, impressed with some of the cocks. He had a snack for lunch then burnt off some of the calories by going back to the gymnasium and pumping iron once more. 
      It was only mid-afternoon when the door chimes played their alternative tune, a signal that someone had punched in the correct access code for the front gates. Someone with the combination was on the way to see him. Dripping with sweat, he broke off from his exercises and walked to the front door pulling it open in readiness. He glimpsed the black sports car pulling up on the garages’ forecourt, pleasantly surprised that Jodie was home so early. Soon, she was skipping along the path, carrier bags in hand. She looked ravishing, his cock hardened at the sight, the short leather skirt revealing eight inches of firm-looking thighs, her unfettered boobs clearly bouncing beneath the chiffon. 
      “Someone’s pleased to see me,” she quipped.”
      “Grrr!” he growled appreciatively. “God, you look fucking sexy. Those eyelashes make you look like a porn star and that’s a real turn-on.”
      “And you’ve had experience of porn stars, have you?” she said, in teasing fashion.
      “If only. Seen plenty on the computer screen and on DVD, but alas I can’t recall having one in the flesh.”
      “You’ll simply have to make do with little old me.” She flapped her eyelids, and shook her upper torso, causing her breast to sway from side to side.
      “Grrr!” he growled again, coiling his hand about his penis, jerking it a couple of times to show his future intentions.” That hair really suits you, baby. Makes you look ten years younger. Even your mother would hardly recognise you.”
      “That’s part of the idea, honey. Don’t want the fucking cow accidently seeing me somewhere and instantly recognising me, do we?” Jodie slobbered a kiss against the side of his face, lapping her tongue from his jaw to his cheekbone. “Hmm, nice. That’s just how I like my man, hot and sweaty. But I hope this doesn’t mean you started without me … you promised.”
      “Keep you knickers on, I’ve been patient.”
       Hooking fingers under her skirt, impishly grinning, she pulled up the front, revealing her naked pussy. “Not wearing any. I’ve bought several pairs but I’ve decided not to wear them … unless that’s the only item I’ve got on.”
      “You don’t seem to have spent much, baby,” he commented, pointing at the half-dozen bags.
      “I didn’t want to push my luck and look greedy, honey, particularly now I’ve picked up that gorgeous Merc. You shouldn’t have, you’ll spoil me,” Jodie replied. 
      He grasped her breasts through the material, plonked a kiss on her lips and said, “Yes I should. You deserve to be spoilt and pampered. You’re going to earn every penny of it anyway … trust me.” He moved a hand to his cock and waggled it, knowing she would fully understand.
      She laughed, then replied, “Honey, that’s not work, that’s fucking pleasure. Anyway, if truth be told, I only got some elegant clothes in the city just in case you ever take me anywhere posh but they really didn’t have the sort of slutty gear I’m keen to wear around the house. Been to that place you got my bitch suit from, Hide & Bound.  I’ve ordered twenty-four different sets of made to measure stuff, in leather and PVC, so you’ll have a fair old bill for that. And, the guy is getting me a catalogue from some American company he deals with that produce all sorts of slut-wear in silk, satin, Lycra and the like.”
      He liked the sound of all that. “Good. If it gives me a thrill, baby, I’m more than happy to pay for anything. But for now, will you hurry up. I’m desperate to get downstairs and rape.”
      Leaning forward, she pressed her tongue just above his navel, lasciviously dragging it up through the hairless valley between his pectorals, up his neck to his chin. “Okay, honey.  I’m going to enjoy seeing you sweat. Give me three minutes and I’ll be ready, promise.” With that she skipped off down the corridor towards the master bedroom. 
      Sauntering, he went to join her, arriving to find the bags scattered on the bed, her skimpy clothing discarded. She slide her legs into the maroon thigh-boots, he pulling up the zips for her as she rooted around in a carrier, fetching out two new leather items. A tiny pair of crotchless hot pants and a quarter-cup bra that ensured her breasts were fully exposed. He could not resist taking the opportunity to give each nipple a quick suck seeing as they were pointing in his direction.
      “Thought you’d like the bra, it sorta puts my tits on display, doesn’t it.”
      “Sure does, gorgeous,” he said, fitting her spiked collar about her neck. 
      He picked up the matching cuffs, but she said, “Leave them off, honey, as I might end up spiking myself in the excitement.”
      “Okay. Now, come on,” he ordered, taking her hand and leading her to the door, she snatching up her riding crop as they left the room. “By the way, you know that friend of a friend I mention—”
      “The one whose name you haven’t told me?” she interrupted.
      “Oh, haven’t I?” He knew full well he hadn’t. The least she knew about U.P.S.S. the better at the moment in case things never actually came to fruition. “He’s called Hammond Strickland. Well, he’s coming to stay with us in four weeks, for the weekend. He might even bring some friends—”
      She interrupted again, wafting her fingers before him this time. “That’ll be nice, honey, but these nails will be ruined with all the extra housework.”
      He let out a chuckle before saying, “Don’t be silly, Jodie, baby, that’s why we need these slaves trained by then. They’ll be doing all the housework in future. You don’t think a mistress does chores, she merely pleasures herself and sees to it that the slaves service their owner’s needs.”
      “Oh, goody. I didn’t realise you’re going to let them come above ground. That’s okay then, the more guests the merrier. Whilst we’re on the subject, there’s this pretty Vietnamese chick at the beauty parlour, did my nails. Lovely round arse, tits a bit small for your liking” – she half-turned and rubbed her chest against his upper arm – “but I want her as a personal maid. So, Drake, honey, do you think I could have her, sometime in the future, of course?”
      “We’ll see. Let me have her details and I ask Strickland if he can make the necessary enquiries. Got to be careful, of course, we can’t snatch too many people locally, so I’ll see.” His cock was responding to the thought though, he pleased Jodie exhibited the right attitude. “But, we’ve got to get the four we already have sorted first.”
      Strutting into the complex, they entered the first cell on the left. Michaela was huddled in a ball, having somehow wriggled her way to the corner of the room, there a little puddle where she had been originally dumped.
      “Dirty, slut,” Jodie said, “you’ll have to clear that up.”
      “She can’t hear you with that hood on but we won’t take it off until she’s in the Panic Room.” Reaching down, he grasped the bar-stretcher and proceeded to use it to drag Michaela across the floor, through the lobby and into the round chamber, she grunting protests as her bound hands and shoulders scraped over the concrete.
      “Wow, honey, this does look impressive now it’s finished. You’ve got loads of exciting-looking equipment too.” Jodie pointed to an array of contraptions spaced around the wall. 
      “Yes it is, I must admit. Strickland’s contacts have done me proud on the equipment side too. Thankfully, there’s still more than enough room for me to use a full-length bullwhip. I’ve put all the smaller items in the storeroom.” He pointed to the double doors. “That little hum you can hear is the air-pumps in the machinery room.” That was located behind the other double doors. Fresh air being brought down a pipe to the complex, the exhaust pumped up another, the intake and outlet disguised as chimneys up on the roof of the house. 
      “This,” he said, “is what I call The Tree and I think we’ll use it to break in Michaela, don’t you?”
      “You’re the master; I’m merely your adoring trainee. I’m here to learn.” Jodie pulled a little wicked grin.
      Pulling the contraption into the centre of the chamber, he locked the brakes. Whilst she walked around it, examining it, he went to the storeroom and loaded his medical nine-rack drugs trolley with the things he wanted and wheeled it to his selected work position. Lifting out a little primus stove, he lit it, putting a few items into the flame to heat up. 
      “Right, honey, I think it’s time to get started,” he said to Jodie. Selecting a bottle of spring water with a plastic tube fitted, he walked towards Michaela, his cock stiffening with every step. “We’ll need to give her plenty of water, don’t want her having a dry throat so she can’t howl.” Kneeling down besides her, unfastening the hood, he dragged it off. Jodie came and stood on the other side of the girl. 
	Michaela blinked frantically, eyes darting about. “W-w-what’s h-happening? Mum, w-what’s going o-on?”
      “Splat!” The flat of his hand delivered a wallop to her face. “Shut up, slave!” As her mouth gapped in surprise, he inserted the drinking tube and proceeded to squeeze the bottle, emptying a third of its contents into the orifice, she having no alternative but to swallow otherwise she would simply have choked. “You’ll need that to keep your throat lubricated so you can scream. I call this place the Panic Room, ’cos you’ll learn to panic with fear every time I bring you in here.” He snorted a sniggering laugh, pulling the tube from her mouth.
      “Mum, w-what’s he talking about?” 
      “Shut the fuck up, you cheeky little slut!” Jodie shouted, stamping the sole of her boot in her daughter’s stomach, causing her breath to be expelled. 
      The action pleased Drake no end, it clear Jodie was learning fast that this was not like BDSM where things were more restrained, designed not to permanently injury the submissive – with sadism it did not matter what you did, the victims were merely disposable.    
      He shuffled down to Michaela’s feet, unlocking the stretcher’s mechanism and proceeding to extend the telescopic bar, forcing her legs four feet apart. Lifting his knees in turn, he moved over her left thigh to take a position between her knees. “This cunt hair might have been trimmed a little but it will have to go completely. As your mistress knows, I like baby-soft cunt so I don’t want to be fucking my daughter in this state after today.”
      “I’ll see to that, honey, soon as you like,” Jodie said.
      “Mum! What’s he talking about?” Michaela squealed. “What does he mean by daughter?”
      “You’re supposed to be so fucking clever surely you’ve realised before now you ain’t that arsehole Ray’s! You’re nothing like your brother and sister. This hunk with the big gorgeous eleven-inch cock is your father, and he’s going to fucking rape you!” Jodie sounded increasingly excited, she reaching out her hand and stroking Drake’s face in an affectionate gesture. 
      Putting his head down to the hair-covered pussy, he proceeded to lap his tongue against Michaela’s inner labia, pushing the tip inside to see if she was wet – she wasn’t. He ground his top teeth against her clitoris before sucking the nub until it went hard. Pushing a pair of fingers into the slit, he worked them around, confirming she was no virgin. Two fingers from his other hand were also forced in, he stretching and pulling the entrance apart, and causing the lips to swell a little.  
      Michaela kept up her protests, even wriggled and squirmed. “Leave me alone! Mum, tell him! Mum, help me please! How can you let him do this?”
      “Remember when you were younger and I used to beg you to work with me and not be so confrontational! Well, you didn’t, did yer! So, don’t expect me to help you now! Instead, look on this as the commencement of your punishment!” Jodie yelled in reply, whacking her riding crop a couple of times against one of her daughter’s breasts. “Go on, Drake, honey, rape her! Fuck her! Fuck her!”
      “Oh, Jodie, baby, you really do understand what your daughter needs,” he said, stroking the length of his shaft against Michaela’s love-lips and clitoris. 
       He peeled back his foreskin, licked the palm of his hand and coated the plump crown with his saliva. Depressing his weapon, putting the end up against the opening, he slowly but certainly started to slid in. She was still not really lubricated. So what, he thought, why should he care? Stretching his arms, he grasped her superb breasts, they very much the same as her mother’s had been at her age, and yanked on them at the same time as he callously thrust his pelvis violently, driving his spike deep.
      “Argh!” Michaela wailed, “Pleeease!”
      Smirking with contentment, he merely replied, “God, it’s great to rape! It’s fucking wonderful to be doing incest again after all these years!” 
      At school he had seen an adage of questionable origin marker-penned on the back of one of the girls’ toilet doors, when he had be humping Gail Smith, it saying: “Sex is great but incest is better.” It had fired his imagination, so when he got the opportunity he raped his sister. He enjoyed the thrill, and did it several time after that, it culminating in him trying to have anal with her. Two days later, she hung herself, everyone assuming it was due to the pressures of all her A-level studying. Fortuitously, he had found her note. He felt no remorse or regret, except at not having succeeded in buggering her.
      Now he was up his daughter, the wickedness of it giving him a real buzz, and this time he would make certain he had her anally. She was wonderfully tight but was now juicing up nicely. This enabled him to more easily pump back and forth, his penis pressing against the dividing wall and clearly feeling the butt plug in her anus. His pleasure was building towards a crescendo. “Urrrgh! Urrrgh!”
      “Please! Please!” Michaela begged. “Please, Mum, I’m your daughter!”
      “You’re not a daughter anymore, your Drake’s slave,” Jodie sniggered, she pushing the spike-heel of her boot into Michaela’s mouth, stopping the noise.
      “No, Jodie, she’s not merely my slave, she’s ours. She’ll learn obedience and to slither across the floor to suck my cock and lick out your cunt. Remember, baby, this is a joint pleasure trip.”
      “You’re so good to me, Drake, can’t think why I never left with you after that wedding night.”
      “Urrrgh! Urrrgh! Uuurrrggghhh!” he grunted, enjoyment erupting, he spurting copious amounts of cum deep inside his daughter’s womb.  He had succeeded at last, he having been able to nail a daughter of his good and proper. 



     

Chapter Six


Panic-stricken, Michaela decided she was in some sort of hell, and there did not seem anything she could do about it. Her wrists were fastened behind her back, her legs spread wide by some form of metal bar. The man she had only met for the first time last night was raping her, his monster of a penis currently spraying a vast amount of sperm into her vagina. If that wasn’t bad enough, her mother was encouraging him. Surely no amount of teenage confrontation warranted a mother assisting in her daughter’s rape?
	Worst still, her mother claimed this animal was her father. Now that the words had actually been uttered, her long-held suspicions burst to the surface. She had always done her very best to suppress the idea. But, it was pretty obvious really, she having her mother’s figure and looks, her half-siblings more those of Ray and his own mother. Ray had been a decent father, always kindly, always indulging. In fact, he was irritatingly good sometimes, but on balance she had always wanted to believe he was her father. What was more, she was constantly able to wrap him around her little finger – she bet she would be unable to do that with the bastard who was raping her.  
	When the creature called Drake finished pumping his sperm into her, he pulled out his penis and stood up, smirking down at her, looking like the cat that had had eaten the canary. The extraction in itself was quite a relief, that freak penis having pummelled the inside of her vagina, making it sore. On top of that, it had pressed hard against her interior wall, rubbing up against the thing she had embedded in her anus, causing her further discomfort. Suddenly, she realised why that was probably there, a wave of trepidation sweeping through her.
      That bitch of a mother of hers removed her high-heel from out of her mouth and stepped over to Drake, sinking to her knees and starting to lick and suck his penis. Dirty slut, Michaela thought.
      “That’s real nice, Jodie, baby,” he said, running his fingers through her mother’s recently dyed hair. It suited her, Michaela thought, wondering why on Earth she was thinking about trivia whilst in her current predicament – concluding it must simply be one of those female things to notice such changes.   
      Drake returned his gaze to her, saying in snide fashion, “See, slave, what your mistress willing does. You too will live to suck my cock and to lick your mistress’s cunt.”
      “Fuck you!” she yelled, doing her best to shuffle away from them.
      “No, Michaela, it’s your master that’ll be fucking you … and me of course,” her mother oozed, smarmily.
      Drake reached down and grabbed the bar-spreader, arresting Michaela’s feeble efforts to try and get away. “Not so fast, slave.”  He put his other hand under her mother’s chin, encouraging her to stand. “Now, Jodie, go to the trolley, you’ll find a can of shaving foam and some disposable razors, fetch them and shave her cunt.”
      “Sure thing, honey,” her mother replied, prancing over to a cabinet on castors. 
      “Now, slave, we’ll start your training right now. Rule one: I’m your master, Jodie is your mistress, so every order we give you will be obeyed without hesitation or dissent. Rule two: Always show us proper respect. Say, yes, master, or yes, mistress. You were going to go to uni so you’re clever enough to work it out. Rule three: You’ll be beaten every time you fail to please and whenever it amuses us to do so. Rule four: As a slave you exist to serve and give pleasure to me, your mistress and any of our friends. There, that’s not too difficult is it? The sooner you submit, the easier you’ll find it.”
      “Fuck you! This is just some sick joke, right?” Michaela was hoping it was. She had set her heart on going to university, for a start. “Let me go now! Pleeease! I’ll say nothing—”
      She stopped mid-sentence, her mother spraying shaving foam onto her pubic area and quickly scraping away the hairs. “Keep telling yourself it’s a joke, slave, and you’ll simply have to be beaten for far longer,” her mother smarmily said, rubbing a wet-wipe over the now-bald area. 
      Drake dragged her over to a wooden piece of equipment, hauling her to her feet, saying, “This is what I call The Tree and you’re the lucky one to try it out first. By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll either slither across the floor, begging to suck my cock and lick your mistress’s cunt or you won’t be alive.”
      His words “won’t be alive” felt like they had instantly been etched with acid into her brain. Surely he did not intend to kill her? But there again, since that hood had come off she had studied Drake, his eyes were cruel, his demeanour was callous, she was certain he was nothing more than a vicious animal capable of anything. Her mother was no better, appearing totally indifferent, seeming to have quickly developed into something fiendish, eyes devoid of any hint of compassion. And, the bitch kept menacingly wafting that riding crop she was holding, occasionally trailing the flapper over various parts of her body in a taunting fashion. 
      She tried to suppress the implications, she having more pressing things to think about right now. The Tree was made of wood. It consisted of a solid base, at the centre of which sprouted a sturdy cylindrical upright, two timber arms reaching from the top to form a Y. Halfway up the upright, projecting at a forty-five degree angle, was a two-inch diameter prong, it about twelve inches long, the end rounded, making it look like a phallus. At sight of that, Michaela shivered with fear, instantly surmising what it was for. At the same height, two horizontal arms branched from the other side of the upright, forming a V. 
      “Please, no,” she begged. “For the love of Christ you can’t do this.”
      “Oh yes we can,” Drake replied, sounding excited.
      “Christ can’t save you! You’re your master and mistress’s plaything now!” her mother shouted, finishing with an evil-sounding cackle.
      There was no time to think about it. Drake gripped Michaela about the waist, lifting her into the air as if she weighed no more that a sack of feathers. Her mother, without needing any instructions, prised apart her labia and guided the opening onto the prong. Drake let go of her, she slithering down about a third of the prong’s length. “Ouch!” she yelped, it chaffing her already-sore interior. He soon had her arms released from behind her back and secured by affixed straps to the upper branches. Her mother meantime removed the bar-stretcher and splayed her legs either side of the upright, fastening each ankle to an arm of the V. 
        “Baby, fetch the grease and the big butt plug so I can get her arsehole prepared for later,” Drake said, he pulling the current insertion from Michaela’s posterior.
      “Ooowww,” Michaela moaned, partly from relief, partly from pain. Soon however he started to force in the replacement. “Nooo! Nooo! Pleeease!” She trembled and shook as he pushed ever harder, her own reactions causing her to impale further down the prong, creating yet more pain. 
      “You’ll be grateful later, slave, make it so much easier when he buggers you,” her mother said, oily.
      “Aaarrrggghhh!” was her only reply, he having succeeded in twisting it in, the rim lodge inside her sphincter ring.
      He grabbed her left breast and jerked it up to his mouth, he grinding the nipple between his teeth, she annoyed with herself that it went near-instantaneously hard. “Nice tits,” he said, before glancing to her mother. “They’re just like yours, Jodie, baby. And these’ll look real good adorned.”
      “We’ll have to make certain we don’t ruin the teats otherwise she’ll have difficulty suckling the sprogs you intend to give her,” her mother said, there no trace of pity in her words.
      “Children? You can’t be serious! That’s perverted!” Michaela shrieked, her brain in a spin, it trying its best to take everything in. She was obviously in the hands of really evil perverts. “You sick bastards!”
       “You don’t know the half of it,” Drake said, smarmily, sounding proud.  Walking over to the wall, he returned with a long black carriage whip. “Remember the rules. I’m your master, Jodie is your mistress.” 
      Without further ado, he lashed the long flexible shaft of the whip across her buttocks repeatedly. “Whack!” – “Whack!” – “Whack!” 
      “Argh!” she howled after every blow, streaks of fire burning into her gluteus, tears rapidly welling in her eyes.
      “Whack!” – “Whack!” – “Whack!” He turned his attention to her back. She lost count after fifteen deliveries. Every blow caused her to jerk, the end result of which was that she was driven a few fractions more down the accursed wooden phallus. She also lost control of her bladder, urine forced out between the surface of the prong and her stretched labia. 
      “Good. That’s so pleasing to see. A slave pissing with fear,” he said, coldly. “You’ll lick that up later.” 
      At that moment she would have considered doing anything to stop the beating, her throat getting sore from all the shrieking. Thank God, she thought, when he cast aside the whip, he’s going to stop. Drake went over to the trolley and lifted something from off a gas-fired primus stove. A primus stove! The object he picked up had a wooden handle and a metal shaft, the tip was glowing white-hot. White-hot! Her brain screamed. 
      “I think we’ll brand you on your left buttock,” he said, as if announcing something of no importance.
      “No! For God’s— Aaarrrggghhh!” He pressed the iron to the side of her buttock, turning fear into terror, singeing pain burning into her flesh, the smell of charring skin rising to her nostrils.  
      “It’s in the shape of a flying duck – a drake really,” he informed.
      “Oh, Drake, that’s so cute,” her mother cooed, she standing there in front of Michaela blatantly rubbing two fingers against her own clitoris.
      “I thought so too, baby.” Drake turned to Jodie, lapping his tongue against her face lasciviously, she responding by slobbering a kiss. 
      The sight of their sickening display was turning Michaela’s stomach. What was worse still however was the pain, it making her body tremble, she impaling herself yet further onto the merciless prong. “Evil bastards!”
      Shrugging, he went to the trolley and laid the branding iron down. Opening a cupboard door, he produced a little stainless steel kidney-shaped dish, the sort that doctors make use of, and then removed a bodkin from the stove. Handing the dish to her mother, he pinched Michaela’s right nipple and stretched it painfully, forcing the red-hot tip of the bodkin through it.
      “Argh!” Her whole body shook, she however could sink no further on the prong, the tip of it now grinding against her cervix.
      “Fit the ring, will you, Jodie. We’ll do the rest later,” he advised, smirking yet again.
      Dropping her riding crop to the floor, her mother handed him the dish as he headed back to the trolley, she lifting the contents out. She held up a gold U-shaped fitment, holding it to the nipple and pushing the securing rod though, screwing it tight with a tiny screwdriver. “You’re goin’ to look like a real slave-slut before we’ve finished,” he mother said, obviously excited.
      “Pleeease …” is all Michaela managed before her mother twisted the ring cruelly, sneering as she did so. “Argh!” 
      “Slave, you must learn that every time your master or I do anything to beautify you, you really must say thank you. An ungrateful slave must be punished.” With that her mother retrieved the riding crop, and lashed it against the throbbing breast three times in quick succession. “Whack!” – “Whack!” – “Whack!” 
      “Argh!” – “Argh!” – “Argh!” Michaela squealed. “Please, Mother, how can you do this to me? I’m your flesh and blood!”
      Her mother snorted a laugh before elatedly saying. “Beg all you like! You’re no longer my daughter, you’re a slave! The sooner you realise that fact the better!” With that she landed three more blows. “Whack!” – “Whack!” – “Whack!”
      “Argh!” – “Argh!” – “ARGH!” Michaela responded. “Please, God, help me! Sweet Jesus, protect me from these fiends!” Her eyes were aching from crying, tears streaming down her cheeks. Surely things could not get any worse?
      “I don’t go in for all that religious crap myself as I believe in more earthy things,” Drake advised. “This is going to be a bit of an experiment but it’ll be real fun if it comes off.”
      Holding up what looked something like a clear-plastic goldfish bowl, he pushed the opening over her left breast, she noting it had a tube about six inches in diameter and length projecting from what should have been the base. Next thing she saw was a jar-like container in his other hand, he shaking it before her bleary eyes. It contained thirty or more wasps. WASPS! Deftly, he unscrewed the top from the jar, holding the opening to the tube and tapping the container until all the wasps had moved into the goldfish bowl, he then screwing the top over the end of the tube. 
      “I didn’t know whether to go in for bees, wasps or hornets. But bees can only sting once and hornets might be a bit too powerful. We’ll see,” Drake said, all too nonchalantly for Michaela’s liking, she staring in disbelief, wondering how anyone could be so evil.
      “Ooooooh, honey, I bet this is going to be real fun,” her mother said, slavering like a rabid dog, several of her fingers playing with her vagina.
      Drake tapped the bowl repeatedly, the insects getting angrier and angrier, causing a buzzing noise that seemed to vibrate the plastic. 
      “Ouch!” Michaela yelped following the first sting. “Ouch! Ouch! Oouch! Oouuch!” The pain was increasing with every poison-filled prick. He kept tapping the bowl. The wasps were getting angrier. “Argh! Arrgh! Arrrgh! Arrrgggh!”
      “Yes, this is real fun,” Drake oozed, his left hand now stroking back and forth along his penis, it jutting out from his body at ninety degrees. 
      “Yeeeeeeaaahhh! Make the fuuuuuucking slut squeal!” her mother shrieked, left hand now nearly fully inserted in her vagina. 
      Michaela’s skin was oozing fear-induced perspiration, it trickling in rivulets, some of it flowing into her eyes and irritating them ever more. Her head seemed to spin. Her brain was on fire. Her breast felt like it was being used as a pincushion for ten thousand red-hot needles. The striped tormentors were in an attacking frenzy, stinging and stinging, delivering a constant stream of pain, emptying the contents of their poison sacks into her tender flesh. “Arrrgggh! Arrrgggh! Arrrggghhh! Aaarrrggghhh! Aaarrrggghhh!  AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!” Then, she passed out. 
      Coming round, Michaela concluded she had not been out for long, Drake standing in front of her squirting water at her face and into her mouth. Her right breast felt fit to explode, it having swollen to near twice its normal size. The pain was made ten times worse when he yanked and pulled the goldfish bowl away, so painful in fact that she urinated again and squealed, “AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!”  
      Tipping the apparently-dead wasps into the jar, Drake screwed on the lid, calmly announcing, “They’ve died from lack of oxygen. But, hell, that was a truly great experiment.  Wonder what it’ll be like if I put them against your cunt?”
      That suggestion filled her with terror. “P-p-p-please, no!”
      Some of the wasps must have been so frantic that they ripped their abdomens for Michaela noted some stings were still imbedded. Looking flushed, glowing with evil, her mother started plucking them out, using those ridiculously-long fingernails that she had on her sticky-wet left hand.  
      “See what’ll happen if you don’t submit. You can’t thwart us. There’s no escape from this place as it’s been carefully planned to keep people like you here as slaves. You’d best understand, you’re now only a slave,” her mother hissed, before screaming, “A fucking useless slave and nothing more!” She pinched the agonised swollen nipple and pulled it, Drake pushing the red-hot bodkin through it.
      “Aaaaaaaaarrrggghhh!” Michaela howled.
      With no hint of gentleness, her mother fitted the nipple ring as if dealing with an inanimate object. If that wasn’t bad enough, at the same time, Drake gripped her swollen, aching, clitoris and pushed the bodkin through. 
      “Aaaaaaaaarrrggghhh!”
      Whilst her mother fitted the third ring in similar manner as the others, he took the bodkin back to the trolley but did not return it to the flame, he turning off the primus. “Aren’t you going to do her nose?” her mother asked.
      “No, not if she’s a good girl. I’ve things in mind for her and it might be best for her appearance if she wasn’t ringed there. I’ll tell you about it” – he looked at his watch – “later tonight, well, at this rate, tomorrow morning.” 
      Carrying a pot of lubrication gel, he sauntered to a position behind Michaela. Guessing his intentions, her body lost control, it shaking uncontrollably, it causing her vagina to abrade itself ever harder against that evil prong that she was impaled on. Twisting the thing back and to, he at last extracted the anal plug with a mighty jerk. “Aaarrrggghhh!” she yelled. Some of her excreta plopped out, landing on the base of The Tree with a “Splat!” 
      “You’ll lick that up in the morning,” he said, matter-of-factly, his fingers roughly massaging a measure of gel around her anus. 
      She was only thankful the gel was cool, it giving the tiniest bit of relief to the fire she was experiencing in her anal ring. But it did not last long, she feeling the hot tip of his penis press up to the hole. Thank God it had not had time to close, she thought. She felt the crown nestling immediately inside the entrance. Both of his hands came around to her chest, grasping both breasts and squeezing them cruelly, he thrusting at that same instance, driving in nearly all of his length. “AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!”
      Her mother was squirting water at her face, keeping her from blacking out. Her left breast felt about to burst open in the manner a watermelon does if you stamp on it. As for her right breast, it appeared to be gripped by a mountain lion. And, her rectum was being pummelled by something akin to a baseball bat. Worse still, the wooden prong in her vagina felt like it was attempting to perforate her insides and push right up into her stomach.
      “Urrrgh! Urrrgh!” he snorted, like a pig with sinus problems, continuously pumping that freak thing up and down her back passage, he never releasing his grip on her poor breasts. “Urrrgh! Urrrgh! Uuurrrggghhh!” 
      She felt scalding cream hose high up in her colon, he continuing to ejaculate several shots. After he had squirted all that he could, he released her breasts, and leaned against her back, panting. Minutes passed. Then there was a feeling of some bliss, he slowly extracting from her rear. And although she would never admit it, that action did create quite a pleasing sensation, sending her nerve endings tingling. 
      He swaggered from behind her, bending his head and kissing her tortured left nipple. Michaela could hardly believe her eyes, and it seemed to take Drake by surprise, her mother sank to her knees in front of him without hesitation and lifted his penis to her lips. The thing was covered in a slime that contained excreta, sperm and blood. Blood! That gave her the shakes. Her mother however did not seem to bother, she licking and sucking the semi-rigid monster, cleaning it and getting it hard again.
      “See what is expected of you, slave. I do it out of love, you’ll do it at the very least out of duty,” her mother crowed before rising slowly to her feet, her tongue lapping sweat from off Drake’s chest.
      “You’re mother’s right, slave. You’ll learn to eat cunt, rim arses, and to suck shit-covered cocks,” Drake said. “And as for you, Jodie, baby, you’re fucking gorgeous. Let me take you upstairs and fuck you brains out.” Gripping her about the waist, he lifted her up before lowering her onto his penis, she wrapping her arms and legs about him. 
      Michaela prayed they were leaving, but he returned to her rear and shoved the plug back into her rectum. “Oooh, pleeease,” she moaned, pleading.
      The bitch lashed her riding crop against the tormented left breast. “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!”
       “AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!”
      “Remember you manners. You should always be polite and thank your master and mistress for everything they do for you. We’ve got some fucking urgent business in the bedroom right now but we’ll be back in the morning to start your training all over again. Unless of course you show us tomorrow that you’ve actually learnt how to behave,” her mother said, she finishing with a peel of demonic-sounding cackles.
      It appeared Drake easily managed to carry his load out of the chamber, switching off all the lights, leaving Michaela in the dark alone with her thoughts. Her thoughts were numerous and jumbled, her brain was in near overload. She wished most of her body was not buzzing, every part of her hurting like hell. There was nothing she could do other than remain as still as she could, trying not to exacerbate the agonies she was experiencing. She could not stop her eyes weeping, and she was certain secretions were oozing from her vagina, she praying it was not blood. Drake was incredibly strong, she concluded. He was an animal, driven by lust. Her mother was evil, she seeming to have quickly developed a taste for foul language and lewd conduct. At that moment, Michaela wished she was an orphan. Although she could not stop recalling all the instructions Drake and her mother had given her, she was damned if she was ever going to submit. She was a free, emancipated, Australian woman and she’d be buggered if she would simply roll over and be a slave. 
      The word “buggered” gave her uncontrollable shakes. She had been easily buggered. Fear gripped her. Perhaps she should not be too hasty, she thought, starting to reconsider, starting to realise she was at the mercy of a very cruel master and mistress.
      

Chapter Seven


Jodie was truly impressed with Drake’s strength, bearing in mind his age, he having no difficulties whatsoever in carrying her up the long flight of steps and into the bedroom whilst she constantly writhed up and down on his prick. Arriving at the bed, she leaned backwards, grasping the corner of the cover and wrenching it onto the floor, carrier bags and all. “I’ll hang them up in the morning!” she advised, talking loudly, she so elated. Clothes were currently the least of her interests, she in a state of high sexual arousal. “Fucking hell, honey, I feel so horny! I can’t believe the things we’ve just done; they were such a fucking turn on! I don’t know why, Drake, but I feel slightly different somehow! It’s as if I’m empowered and can do anything. And, I just wanna fuck and fuck and fuck!”
       “Ah, I have a bit of a confession to make. The elixir I gave you this morning contained a half-measure of the same stuff I take every day. It’s packed with steroids and all sorts of things that bulk me up, makes me aggressive and give me a near-constantly stiff prick. So it’s little wonder you’re fired up. Just hope it doesn’t turn you into one of those muscle-bound female freaks. Best be careful how much I give you,” Drake replied. He pushed her backward onto the bed, going with her, landing on top and starting to flex his hips. 
      The elixir certainly appealed. “I like the idea of a bit more muscle definition … nothing too big and gross though. I’d also love a flatter stomach too. And, if my chest muscles were better developed my tits would stand out more. Oh, and anything that’s goin’ give me this unquenchable urge to fuck and fuck is fucking all right by me!” Her mind switched to more pressing matters. “That’s it, Drake, honey, fuck me! Pump that bloody great cock of yours into me!”
      “My pleasure,” he said, face sweating, he already in a delightful rhythmic motion. “I have to say, baby, you were really impressive down there to say you’ve done nothing for twenty years and you’ve had to move your game up two or three notches in one go. You’re certainly turning into a real evil bitch. And, I love you for it.”
      “Thank you, kind sir,” she said happily, ego boosted. She did not want to disappoint him, she desperately keen to play a full part, even more so now she had a taste of real sadism. “That’s it, baby, keep that up! Do you … do you … think … think, Michaela’s going … going to … to make a good slave? O-o-o-yeah! Yeah that’s it, baby! Fuck me! Fuck me!” She clawed her new nails up and down his back.
      “Urrrgh! Urrrgh!” he gave a couple of extra-powerful thrusts before continuing as before. “Yeeeah, she’ll be a slave before too long. Might take a day or two to really break her but she’s on the way. She’ll give a little each day, thinking that that’s okay and that we’ll ease up. But each inch she gives we’ll take and that’ll bring her ever closer to complete subjugation. She’s already losing that fire in her eyes and that’s one sure sign that she’s getting resigned to her situation. I’ve seen it before in groomed kids when they know they’ve got to service their father’s friends or in those boys I’ve help torture and kill. They just give up resisting. Urrrgh! Urrrgh!”
      “Y-y-ya didn’t … didn’t tell me … me why ya didn’t … d-didn’t r-ring … her nose!”
      “Urrrgh! Urrrgh! ’Cos I’ve got plans to use her as bait, in nightclubs and such like, to attract girls and boys her age to drop their guard so we can snatch ’em and make them slaves! Urrrgh! Urrrgh! Uuurrrggghhh!” He tensed, arching his back, and fired his seed.
      “Owwwhhh yeeeah!” she shrieked, part from the pleasure, part in agreement with the idea. “Oooooooooyyyeeeeeeaaahhh!” Her body was rocked by enjoyable convulsions.
      Lying there in each other’s arms, they exchanged kisses, she still gently clawing at his back, he playing roughly with her breasts, they grinding their crotches together, milking out every drop of satisfaction. All too soon, she felt his prick ease out. Standing, he took her hand, and said, “Come with me.”
      Guiding her into the giant walk-in wardrobe, he pulled back a curtain on the far wall, revealing a huge mirror. She had never had time yet to explore every nook and cranny, and remiss as it may have been, for after all she was a woman, she really had not been too bothered about clothes and their storage facilities. “So what?” she said, slightly bemused. “Two of the walls in the bedroom are covered from floor to ceiling in fucking mirrors.” They were there so that performers on the bed could watch themselves having sex. 
      He pressed against the right-hand edge and the whole thing proved to be a cupboard door, it popping open to reveal shelves of sex toys of every imaginable sort. “I thought you might like these. To keep you amused if I’m not around or I get tired or you’re simply bored.”
      “Wow!” The contents certainly set her imagination racing. “There’s no way a woman could take that thing,” – she pointed to a dildo that was as thick as a fence post and a metre long – “well, not without a lot of practice.” Reaching in, she snatched another dildo that could easily have been modelled on Drake’s penis. “Come on, honey, let’s try this out before we go to sleep. It’ll go in my cunt whilst you pump my arse, then I might let you sleep.” She noted him smile. “As I said earlier, I’m so fucking horny.”
      Awakening some seven hours later from a deep and untroubled sleep, Jodie put her hand down to her pussy and scratched, sending a pleasing tingling sensation through her still-swollen labia. Opening her eyes, she looked about, there no sign of Drake anywhere. Getting up, she padded along to the kitchen, finding him there preparing breakfast. “What are you doing?” she asked, although it looked pretty bloody obvious to her.
      “Mixing up the elixir,” he replied, turning on the liquidiser. “Thought I’d try you on a quarter portion from now on, just in case.”
      “Fuck that. Give me the same as yesterday. I want to be a female version of you, remember. And, you better get me pumping iron or whatever as I want to get rid of this,” she said, patting her belly.
      “Okay. But I’ll email my friend Parker back in England later today, get his advice, see if this is all right for a woman or whether there’s a female version.”
      “Whatever. Just remember, I want to be aggressive and to have the strength to manhandle the slaves, and I want my libido to be like it was last night. You were fucking awesome, by the way.”
      “So were you. You’re still the gorgeous nypho I remember but I get the message, I’ll see what can be done.” 
      Once they had breakfasted, they went into the gym, she copying much of what he did. She liked thumping the punch-bag but soon gave up on the skipping, swiftly concluding that without a sports bra she was in danger of knocking out her own teeth. They concluded by going outside and swimming ten lengths in the pool, it making her feel truly invigorated. In the bedroom, she slipped two sets of love-eggs into her vagina and two sets of Thai beads into her rectum before putting on the tiny maroon leather thong.  “I don’t want to be constricted by too many clothes,” she advised, deciding merely to wear her thigh-boots as well. 
      The moment Jodie strode into the Panic Room, riding crop in hand, a delicious wick thrill coursed through her veins at the sight of their very first slave still impaled on The Tree.
      “I hope you’ve learned some of your lessons,” Drake said, picking up the carriage whip from where he had discarded it yesterday.
      “Y-yes … I-I … think so,” Michaela replied. 
      “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” He lashed the whip against her back and buttocks repeatedly.
      Jodie stepped closer and maliciously rained down blows with her crop against the still-partially-swollen left breast. “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” 
      Shuddering and shaking, tears streaming, Michaela opened her lungs and continuously squealed, “Aaarrrggghhh!” Something inside however must have crumbled, she eventually shrieking, “M-M-Master! M-M-Master! M-M-Mistress! P-pleeease, spare me!”
      Drake stopped beating, Jodie reluctantly doing the same. 
      “See, it wasn’t so hard was it?” Drake said. “Think how much pain you might have saved yourself. Now, you get to be come off the tree.” 
      Jodie released the legs as he unfastened the leather straps that kept the slave’s arms in the air. Drake lifted Michaela off the prong and casually dropped her to the floor.
      “Ooouch!” Michaela yelped.
      “Thwack!” He delivered a stroke to her left buttock. “What do you say?”
      “T-t-t-t-t-thank y-y-you, M-Master.”
      “Thwack!” – “And, what about your mistress?”
      “M-Mistress. T-thank y-you, Mistress.”
      “Good,” he said, stepping back fifteen paces, taking Jodie’s hand so she had no alternative but to go with him. “Now, slave, slither over here and kiss your mistress’s boots and lick her cunt. Then kiss my feet and suck my cock.”
      Jodie thought the idea delicious, she casting aside her thong in readiness. Her pussy was bulging beautifully, she thought, the lips wonderfully swollen, and her fingers confirmed what she sensed, her juice was seeping out. 
      Suddenly, Drake dashed forward and stamped his foot into the middle of Michaela’s shoulder blades with a “Thump!” she yelping in reaction, “Ooouch!”
      “Press your fucking tits down to the floor!” he roared. “I don’t give a shit if the concrete rubs them raw.”
      “Y-yes, M-Master,” she responded, bursting into yet more tears.
      He resumed his position beside Jodie, she still scraping her nails against her labia, it increasing the flow of her juice, making her feel ever more horny.  Michaela arrived and kissed each boot. Rising up onto her knees, she poked out her tongue timorously. Grabbing the slave’s head, Jodie pulled it whilst thrusting forward, grinding her crutch against the face. The tongue made contact with the insides of her labia and Jodie felt a judder go through her, a little orgasm having been ignited. “Aaaaaahhh!” she moaned happily. She could have stood there all day but realised there was work to be done, so she pushed the slave away, watching as the creature bent and kissed Drake’s feet before lifting her head to lick and suck his penis.
      “You’re learning, slave,” he said. “Now, go to The Tree and lick up all that shit you sprayed on it last night.”
      Trembling, looking stunned at the instruction, the slave’s bloodshot eyes opened wide, she saying, “P-please don’t make me do—”
      “Splat!”Drake slapped her face so hard she went sprawling. Seizing her by the hair, he dragged her to the contraption. “Fucking well lick that up or I’ll remove the butt-plug and you’ll have to eat what comes out!”
      Watching the action simply gave Jodie a few extra jolts of sadistic electricity. 
      “P-p-pleeease—”
      Giving Michaela no time to finish her words, his left hand clasped one of her thighs, hauling it into the air. His other hand gripped the butt-plug, twisting it violently, yanking it out of her posterior. As the stopper was removed a big sloppy stool plopped out and formed a conical-shaped mound on the floor.  Releasing her thigh, he bent down and used his cupped hand to scoop up most of her discharge.  Pinching her nose tightly, he jerked her part way onto her knees. “Open you fucking mouth!” he yelled. 
      Spotting an opportunity to help, and to get a closer look, Jodie bounded over, delivering a powerful punt to the slave’s stomach. The mouth opened as a reaction, Drake instantly scraping much of the excreta into the gaping opening, clamping his hand over until she was forced to swallow. Upon release, the slave sank to the floor coughing and groaning. 
      “Open wide!” he instructed, holding his penis in his left hand and pointing it at her face. Jodie stamped on her daughter’s stomach encouraging her to do as she was told, he proceeding to spray out a pint of urine, filling the mouth four times.
      “Let’s give her a bit of a shower and get her back to her cell. Bring that bar-stretcher with you, will you, baby?” He clutched a handful of Michaela’s hair, dragging her all the way to the showers, swiftly using a hand-held spray to clean her and himself. Still dripping wet, her slung her over his shoulder and carried back to her cell. There he fitted the bar-stretcher, hooking it to a chain he lowered from the ceiling before hoisting her into the air. “Now, slave, remember your lessons. Your mistress and I will be back later today. If you’re obedient when I drop you down to the floor, and you do as you should, you might even get fed and watered.”
       “Remember, you’re a fucking slave and nothing more!” Jodie screamed excitedly, lashing her crop four times against the upturned cunt lips. “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!”
      They exited the cell to the joyous sound of a genuine slave shrieking with pain. “Hell, Drake, this is so fucking unbelievably delicious that I’m so glad you gave me this chance to help turn your – no our – fantasies into such an awesome reality. Thank you so much.” She meant every word, convinced that if she had not joined in wholeheartedly she would now be occupying one of the cells too. But she wasn’t doing any of this out of fear, oh no, she was doing it because she earnestly wanted to, because it gave her one big continuous sexual buzz. “Who’s next?” she asked, rubbing herself against his wonderfully muscled body.
      “Well, it’s the twins’ eighteenth birthday today and I believe Luke popped out of the pod first so it’s only right he gets his present before his sister. Don’t you think?”
      “Yeeeah, that sounds good.” She wanted to find out how to train males, hoping to have several of them in the future to slake her baser cravings – hot cock generally being better than cold plastic.
      Luke was dragged to the Panic Room and dumped on the floor, Drake advising that as there was plenty of room the used equipment could stay where it was, the slaves would clean it and put it away before very long. He wheeled the trolley into the storeroom, she accompanying him. It was a revelation, there racks and rack of things, cupboards full of stuff too. In the corner, standing on a table was a large cube made of Perspex inside which was a giant wasps’ nest. Mesh covered openings let air circulate and a sugary solution was drip fed via a small-bore pipe from a bottle affixed to one side. A short tube projected from the front, a screw cap on the end, there also a sliding door affair close to where it was joined to the cube. Taking a small bottle from a cupboard, he put a drop of its contents into his transportation container, saying it was a pheromone. Explaining and demonstrating at the same time, he moved to the cube. “I remove the cap off the tube and then screw this jar into it, like this. Then I open up the inner door and the smell of this pheromone wafts in and the wasps think they are under attack. As soon as enough have swarmed into the tube I close the inner door, whip out the jar, lid it and put the cap back on the tube. Hey presto. We’ve one jar of angry wasps.”
      “Are we going to use wasps on Luke too?” she asked, hoping the answer was yes.
      “We’re an equal opportunity employer. No sexism here,” he said, finishing with a raucous guffaw. “Trouble is the boy’s got no real tits and I’ve not designed anything yet to put ’em on his equipment.”
      “What about his face?”
      “Trouble with that is it might blind him. Not that that’s a real problem but it’d be a bit of a waste, he being crippled so soon. And what fucking use is a blind slave, unless it’s merely to torture and kill?” Drake said, deadpan.
      Then and there she realised that his blatant indifference towards what was one of her children did not distress her in any way whatsoever, on the contrary, she found his callous attitude electrifying and inspiring. Yippee, she thought, I’ve sunk into the abyss and turned into a real nasty bitch.
        Back in the chamber, she assisted him as he pulled what he called The Frame away from the wall and into some open space. The whole thing was made of metal, except for some affixed leather straps. It consisted of a rectangular frame, one short end being adjustable, able to slide back and forth. The frame was supported on both sides by study stanchions, a rod passing all the way from one to the other, it acting as a spindle, allowing the frame to be rotated. “Right, let’s get the boy loaded,” he said, once the frame was in a horizontal position.
      Lifting Luke from the floor, he unfastened his wrist but held him in a full nelson whilst Jodie removed the bar-stretcher from his ankles and the hood from his head. “Morning, boy,” she said, as sneeringly as she could. “Welcome to your new life as a slave.”
      Luke instantly started questioning,” Mum, what’s going on? Why’ve I been trussed up and kept a prisoner? Where am I? Mum—”
      “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” She landed two strokes of her riding crop across his face, shutting him up and creating a pair of pleasing red stripes and a real startled look upon his face. “Shut the fuck up and listen very carefully! You’re going to be turned into a slave! I’m your mistress, Drake’s your master! So, you’d best learn bloody quickly that you’ve got no caring mother now … slave!”
       The boy shouted and struggled but Drake had little trouble in manhandling him to the frame, upending him and plonking him onto it and then holding him down. Dropping her whip, Jodie needed both hands to grab a flailing leg and to secure the ankle into the cuff at the corner of the frame. It was no easier with the other leg, he nearly succeeding in shoving his foot into her face, but in the end she triumphed, as she knew she would, securing it in the other corner.
      Already fitted onto the spindle were two lengths of broad leather belting, the rod itself passing through a steel-reinforced hole at the end of each one. One had the eyelets, the other the buckle, and Drake fastened it tightly over the lower part of Luke’s back, pinning him down. After that it was much easier to control him. No amount of shouting or wriggling by Luke made any difference. Drake adjusted the sliding part of the frame so that it ended up under the slave’s clavicle and then, in turn, proceeded to stretch his arms along it, strapping them down at wrists, elbows and armpits. 
      “Now, boy, I’m going to give you the four basic rules of slavery whilst your mistress, the gorgeous Jodie, goes over to the trolley and sets up the primus stove,” Drake said, coldly. He blew Jodie a kiss. She responded by plonking a real one on his lips before he went on, “Baby, bring the big butt-plug back with you as we must prepare his arsehole ready for his fucking.”
      “Don’t you dare! Buggery’s a sin! It’s against God’s law!” Luke cried out.
      “So you claim, but that’s not stopped me before,” she heard Drake say as she walked away. He called after her, “Oh, and, baby, you’ll find a small gas blowtorch on one of the shelves of the right-hand door. Bring that too when you come.”
      “Sure, honey,” she replied, intrigued.  
       As Drake recited the rules, Jodie contentedly lit the primus, putting the branding iron and bodkin into the flame. She found the blowtorch easily, it one of those stainless steel jobs that a chef might use to burn the sugar on top of crème brúlée and such like dishes. Greasing up the bigger butt-plug first, she returned to The Frame, items in hand. 
      Drake was just finishing reciting his instructions.  “Thanks, baby,” he said, moving to the slave’s posterior. With one violent yank, he extracted the current stopper and proceeded to twist and screw the new one into place.
      “Argh! No! Please! Argh! Aaarrrggghhh!” the slave squealed.
      Picking up her riding crop, she slashed it down against his back a couple of times. “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” and coldly saying, “Don’t be such a fucking cry baby, your sister didn’t make half the fuss you are and she got raped in two holes.”
      Drake pulled a lever on one of the stanchions, releasing a locking mechanism, he then swinging the frame ninety degrees so the boy was in an upright position. Taking the blowtorch, he turned the tap on and pressed the button, igniting the flame.  Adjusting it, so it was not blazing fiercely, he wafted the flame over the boy’s chest, stomach and genitals, shrivelling the hairs. 
      “Aaarrrggghhh!” the slave howled.
      “Don’t worry, boy, I’m not going to fry your balls … just yet.” Drake finished, extinguishing the flame. “Now, baby, shave all that stubble off will you, then we’ll ring him.”
      She lathered him up and proceeded with the razor. Not having shaved a man’s balls for twenty years, she was pleased she recalled the technique, reckoning she did a good job. She ran her hand over Luke’s chest, down his belly and fondled his scrotum to check it was indeed smooth.  His penis started to respond. Bending over, she commenced sucking him, impishly determined to get him hard. How many men can resist the actions of a woman’s mouth, she thought, even if it’s from an incestuous source?  Luke couldn’t, she soon pulling her oral orifice off his stiff prick. Sniggering with contempt, she turned to Drake and advised, “Hey, honey, he’s not half the man you are.”
      “Few men are … or so I’ve been told on many occasions,” Drake relied, smugly. “Why don’t you try him out and find what he’s like at coming.” 
      It took her only a few milliseconds to work out what he was hinting at. The perversion of the proposal was really appealing. “Oh, yeah! Now, you’re talking!” Poking two fingers into her saturated cunt, she pulled out the first set of love-eggs, quickly followed by the others. “Oooh, that’s so nice,” she cooed, a joyous feeling having been created by her actions. 
      Wrapping her arms about the boy’s neck, pulling herself up, she easily slotted her gapping opening over his penis before she allowed herself to slide down its full length.
      “Mum! Mum! What are you doing? This is gross! It’s a mortal sin! For the love of Jesus Christ stop!” the slave yelled, fear sweeping his face.
      His words had the opposite effect than was obviously intended. The very immorality of what she was doing inflamed her more. Wantonness was now her god. “Do you think I give a shit? Fucking is all that matters to me! And what’s more, slave boys simply exist to service their mistress’s needs!”
      She rode up and down, faster and faster. If, however, she had not already been on the brink he would never have given her an orgasm, she was certain of that, for he ejaculated far too quickly for her liking, and to cap it all only emitted a relatively quiet grunt, he certainly no snorting stud. “Aaaaaahhh,” she moaned, as her immoral wave of pleasure passed up from her crutch. “You’ll need to improve, boy, if I’m not simply going to cut your balls off for being useless.”
      As she slithered back down to her feet, she saw he was crying. “You’ll have to get use to it, boy. You’ll soon be entertaining your master and mistress by fucking with your sisters.”
      “No! Pleeease, that’s sinful! Please!” he wailed.
      “Sin is what it’s all about, boy,” Drake said, sneeringly, pulling the lever and turning the frame another ninety degrees. The boy was now suspended under it. “Jodie, baby, see how good this Frame is. It lets you get to both sides of the body quite easily. We’ll ring him now.”
      Drake pushed the bodkin through Luke’s nasal divider, his nipples and the upper skin of his scrotum, where it attaches to the penis. Happily, she fitted the rings, making no attempt to be gentle. After all, a slave has to suffer. As a consequence of both Drake’s and her actions Luke never let up on his squawking and begging.
      “Now, baby, I think I’ll let you brand him on his left buttock. Do you think you can do it?” Drake said, rotating the frame a full half-turn so Luke was uppermost again.
       Did she like strawberry cheesecake? Did she like fucking? Of course she could do it. “Yes, please, honey.”
      Adrenaline flowing at the prospect, she skipped there and back, returning from the trolley with the handle of the branding iron clutched in her right hand. And, once Drake had advised which way up he wanted the motif, she pressed the glowing tip to the side of Luke’s bum-cheek. The skin burnt, the flesh sizzled, a wisp of smoke rose, she holding it there heartlessly, watching as the surrounding area got redder and redder, her pussy flooding with orgasmic secretions, stimulated by the brutality of what she was doing. “Yeeeeeeaaahhh!” she crooned. 
      “AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!” the slave shrieked, at the top of his lungs.
      “Fetch the wasps and the goldfish bowl, please,” Drake said, easing her hand back, so that the branding iron disengaged. 
      Once she had complied with the request, he pressed the bowl’s opening to the fleshy right rump, but allowed her the agreeable chore of doing what was necessary to transfer the wasps from the container. Both of them tapped the bowl, causing the striped marauders to go into frenzy, stinging and stinging.
      “AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!”
      It took longer for the insects to succumb than was the case yesterday, Drake advising, “I suppose there’s more air in the bowl this time as Michaela’s tit must have filled half of it.”
      Too soon, as far as Jodie was concerned, the dead wasps were being poured back into the container, the top screwed on, Drake saying, “It’s a precaution as they may only be drowsy. Don’t want the little bastard waking up and stinging my cock.”
      “Nor my tits and cunt,” Jodie quipped, shuddering at the thought, proceeding to use her nails to scrape off any stings that were still embedded in the rapidly swelling bum-cheek. “What are we going to do now?” 
      “We’re going to thrash him. You okay with that riding crop or do you want a carriage whip too? If you do, get one from the rack.”
      Of course she wanted a carriage whip, it longer and therefore able to inflict more pain. Fetching one of the flexible fibre-glass whips, she stood on the opposite side of the frame to Drake, doing her best to study his technique, copying him. He started raining blows at a point just above the back of the knees, moving up the thighs, buttocks and back, she landing hers in nearly the same spots, a few blows behind him. She was not as adept at it as he was, but then he had practiced a lot, but tried her utmost to make up for the lack of skill by delivering as hard blows as she could muster. 
      “Aaarrrggghhh!” – “Aaarrrggghhh!” – “Aaarrrggghhh!” – “Aaarrrggghhh!” the slave squealed repeatedly, simply encouraging Jodie to beat him more, the sound like enthralling music to her ears.
      Inflicting pain was exhilarating, she unable to resist forcing three of her left-hand fingers into her cunt, stoking up her fires even more. She and Drake carried on, landing blow after blow. When at last they stopped, she was awash with sweat whilst Drake’s body was shinning with a coating of perspiration. The back of the trembling, gibbering, slave was flushed a delightful vivid-pink, dozens of red and purpling welts standing proud. 
      There was no need for anyone to tell her what was going to happen next, Drake’s penis rigidly pointing before him like a road sign. Ducking under the frame, he came up between the slaves thighs. Wanting a better view, Jodie moved closer and lean over the prostrate body, her fingers still working between her labia, her tongue slavering due to her shameless anticipation. 
      “Be prepared to be arse fucked, boy,” Drake said, jubilantly.
      “No! No! Buggery is a sin! O Lord God, save me! Sweet Jesus, help me pleeease!” the slave shouted.
      “They’ll not save you! You’re a slave now and you’re goin’ to get fucked!” Jodie yelled, relishing the prospects. “Go on, Drake, fuck him! Screw his arse!”
      “Aaarrrggghhh!” the slave yelped, as the butt-plug was yanked from his rear.
      Jodie could not believe the size of the hole, she reckoning that with little effort she could easily get her fist in and made a mental note to try doing that sometime soon. 
      Drake stroked his cock in the cleft of the arse a couple of times before pressing the bulging purple head against the gapping O. Gripping Luke by the waist, he thrust forward, his whole magnificent length slithering in.
      “AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!”
      As he fucked, Drake slapped his hands hard, one against the branded cheek, the other one against the wasp-swollen one.
      The slave simply kept squealing, like a skewered pig, constantly interspersing his pain-filled wailing with pleas to be spared. “AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!”
      The object that she had once looked upon as her son had now been beaten, branded, ringed, abused and buggered, in short, turned into a whimpering slave boy for the amusement of her and his master. And, all that mattered to her was the perversity of it all was such a mental aphrodisiac, which, combined with what her left hand was doing, caused Jodie to erupt with a massive explosive orgasm. “O-O-O-O-O-O-YEEEAAAHHHHHH!”














      

Chapter Eight


Sarah was lying curled in a ball, feeling chilled, tired, hungry and thirsty too. She was in desperate need of a toilet, she had already been unable to stop herself urinating several times but her back passage was blocked by something hard and uncomfortable, and she really did want to do a number twos. Sarah had no idea where she was except that she was on a cold, hard, floor. What was worse, as far as she was concerned, was that she was obviously totally naked, but thankfully she did not think she had been raped, although what had happened to her anus was a cause of concern. It might hide the fact that she had been sodomised. 
      Her last recollection was being at a dinner party, suddenly feeling numbed, and someone pulling a hood over her head that took away her hearing, sight, and ability to speak. She also recalled, the host had groped one of her breasts, the very thought of that giving her a shiver, he older than her father. 
      That man, Drake, she remembered his name, was apparently some “long-lost friend” of her mother’s, but quite why her mother had been friends with him she was not certain. After all, he was fifteen years older than both her parents so couldn’t have had much in common, surely? But, she had to admit, he seemed in far better physical condition than her father, being tall and broad-shouldered, and looking like he worked-out regularly. However, she had not taken to him. There was simply something that had made her wary. His swarthy face and that beard and moustache that framed his mouth made him look like the villain in a low budget movie. And, as for his glinting steel-grey eyes, well, they reminded her of the illustration in one of her childhood books, of the wolf sizing up Little Red Riding Hood. 
       The first thing she knew there was anything happening was when her legs were jerked upwards and she was dragged, her shoulder blades rubbing against the floor. She tried grunting protests but could tell they were indistinct. She tried kicking her legs but they seemed restricted and unable to operate separately. The journey did not last very long and then her legs were dropped back to the concrete – well, she assumed it was concrete. Then, nothing seemed to happen for quite a while.
      Her head was lifted, and the hood removed. Lights blinded her temporarily, but when she got use to them she realised she was in some vast, round, chamber, all sorts of gadgets positioned close to the wall. Looking down at her, were her mother and the man called Drake. Her mother’s hair was a different colour, but it was definitely her mother, and she was half-naked, wearing just maroon-coloured thigh-boots and a matching bustier that cupped her breasts – those items of clothing seeming vaguely familiar. He was totally nude too. And, Sarah could not believe her eyes. For arching out from the front of his body was a giant penis – far bigger than anything she had ever seen, not that she had seen many. Of course it could be fake, she told herself. But she suddenly had this very unsettling suspicion that she might be finding out whether it was real or not in the near future. 
      “Welcome, slave, to what I call the Panic Room,” Drake said, “for this is where you’ll learn to panic every time you’re brought to it.” He laughed, her mother sniggered, it apparently some private joke they had.
      “What do you mean, slave? Panic room? Why am I tied up? Mum, what in God’s name is going on? Why are you dressed like a slut—” Her words were cut short, her mother kicking her hard in the stomach. “Ooogh!”
      “Shut the fuck up! You’re a slave now so listen to what your master tells you! And in future, remember I’m your mistress so address me as such!” her mother yelled, slapping a riding crop against the side of her boot, over and over.
      Slave? Master? Mistress? Had her mother gone mad, she wondered? Was this some sort of prank?
      “Jodie, baby, I think we’ll change her butt-plug first as I can hardly wait to get up her arse,” Drake said, Sarah noting the obscene way he ran his hand up and down his penis.
      “Good idea. Then we can thrash her before sorting out her front. Where are you going to put the wasps this time?” her mother responded.
      “Thrash? Wasps? What in God’s name are you talking about, Mum? Mother, it’s me, Sarah your daughter, what are you on about? Why am I tied up?” Sarah queried, nothing yet making sense.
      “Baby, be good enough to get the primus lit and then bring the bigger plug whilst I get this slave spread over The Bridge,” Drake said, in calm, icy, tone.
      Bending, he looped his arms under Sarah’s armpits and pulled her up from the floor, dragging her backwards, her heels scraping the floor. The Bridge turned out to be constructed in steel. The arch was made up of metal rods, the crest of which was about three feet from the ground and stood proud above the height of the low sides by about half that amount. The sides extended a couple of feet either side of the arch’s span, giving the device a sturdy look. She noticed there were three little wheels, like the traditional ship’s variety, on the outer face of one side. Milliseconds later, she was unceremoniously dumped stomach downwards onto the arch. 
      “Ouch!” she yelped, the air knocked from her again.
      Removing the bar-stretcher, he fastened her ankles into cuffs attached by chains that disappeared into holes in the sides of the machine. Releasing her wrists, he pulled them to another set of similar cuffs. He spun the left and right wheels, one cranking the chains that restrained her feet, stretching her legs, the other one doing the self-same action to her arms. Using the central wheel, he made a slight adjustment to the curvature of the arch, raising it slightly, bending her more noticeably.  
      “What the hell are you doing?” she asked, panic rapidly building. “Let me go, please. Where’s my father? Where are Michaela and Luke? What have you done to them? Please, this is ridiculous.”
      “Splat!” He slapped her face, hurting the inside of her mouth, causing her to well with tears. 
      “Shut up. Your brother and sister and father are now slaves too. They were broken easily and accepted slavery within a matter of hours, as you will if you have any sense. I’m your master and the gorgeous Jodie is your mistress. There are only four little rules to remember and the sooner you obey them, the better for you. Rule one: I’m your master, Jodie is your mistress, so every order we give you will be obeyed without hesitation or dissent. Rule two: Always show us proper respect. Say, yes, master, or yes, mistress and so on. Rule three: You’ll be beaten every time you fail to please and whenever it amuses us to do so. Rule four: As a slave you exist to serve and give pleasure to me, your mistress and any of our friends. So, are you ready to begin?” He said all this in such a matter-of-fact way it gave Sarah the jitters. She could certainly believe he had such monstrous ideas, but surely not her mum.
      “Fuck you! Let me go!” she blurted out, somewhat surprising herself in the process, she not one for aggressive behaviour.
      “Not very ladylike,” her mother said. “We’ll have to curd that fucking foul mouth of yours as its no way to speak to your master or mistress!” 
      “Butt-plug first, I think,” Drake stated, moving to somewhere behind Sarah. 
      She soon found out where. His hand wrenched the blockage from her anus, causing her pain, but also giving her some blessed relief. Instantly, she had a bowel movement, three sloppy stools plopping to the floor. What an embarrassment, she thought.
      “I’ll make you lick that up later,” his voice said from behind her.
      “You’re crazy if you think I’m— Arrrggghhh!” Her words were cut short by him ramming something back into her anus that felt ten times bigger than what had been previously there. 
      “Now, baby, brand our new slave, will you.”
      “Sure will, honey,” her mother said.
      Brand! The word electrified Sarah’s brain, she frantically looking to her left, seeing her mother swiftly go to and from some hospital-like trolley, coming back with something whose end was glowing white-hot. “Please! AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!” The pain was unbelievable – well, she could believe it, she was experiencing it. Fluid flooded from her tear ducts, urine sprayed from her urethral opening. Her body was rocked by shockwaves. How could her mother do such a wicked thing?
      There was no time to contemplate that question, the evil pair now standing either side of her holding those long whip-things that she had seen on television being used by people competing in carriage-driving events. “Pleeease,” she begged hoping against hope that they were not going to do what she feared.
      “Remember the rules, slave. Submit and you might be spared,” Drake said before he lashed the shaft of the whip down across her buttocks. “Thwack!”
      “Argh!” One half of her posterior was already throbbing from the branding, now the other side started to smart too.
      “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!”
      “Argh!” – “Argh!” – “Argh!” – “Argh!” Sarah shrieked ever louder, the evil pair continuously raining blows down onto her body, from the backs of her thighs to her shoulder blades, they laughing at her plight and her desperate but futile efforts to break free. The whole of her rear was as good as being on fire, each delivery causing more and more streaks of throbbing pain. 
      “Thank God,” she yelped when they eventually stopped.
      “Oh, no! It’s your master and mistress you thank for beating you and for taking the trouble to train you to become a good slave!” Drake yelled. “But now, slave, I think I’ll arse-fuck you before we turn you over!”
      “No! Pleeease!” she begged, the plastic stopper was bad enough but she had seen his size whilst semi-flaccid so guessed that when hard he would be far bigger. Her apprehension was confirmed when she caught a glimpse of the thing, it standing proud like some monstrous cudgel. 
      “Yes, Drake, honey, give the slut’s arse a real good screwing!” her mother shouted, looking quite inflamed. “Let me grease your cock.”
      Her mother must be possessed, it the only explanation – surely the devil must have gotten to her somehow, Sarah concluded. The stopper was cruelly twisted repeatedly and then jerked free causing her to yell, “Aaarrrggghhh!” She felt some relief when a little cooling oil was wiped around her ring-muscle but, before she could grit her teeth properly, an excruciating pain engulfed her rear passage as something warm and hard pushed in. “AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!”
      Gripping her hips tightly, Drake pumped back and forth in her rectum, she feeling his testicles slapping against her flesh when he pushed in to his utmost, she wondering if he was attempting to stab right into her stomach.  
      “Urrrgh! Urrrgh! Urrrgh!” he grunted, the speed of his strokes getting ever faster, his grip on her hips getting tighter. She felt her anus spasm, felt quite a pleasurable twinge too as he snorted and sprayed hot seed. “Uuurrrggghhh!”
      After he withdrew, Sarah shook the sweat away from her eyes and twisted her neck to look, she hardly able to believe what she was seeing. Her mother was on her knees, sucking and licking his soiled prick, swallowing three or four inches. Whatever had happened to her mother had definitely turned her into a whore.
      “You’ll be doing this soon, slave,” Drake said.
      “No way! I’ll never lick excreta from anything!” Sarah however noted the callous sneer her words brought forth upon his face, she going cold in the pit of her stomach, assuming that it was his way of saying, “that’s what you think.” 
      Once her mother had finished her filthy business, the pair of them rammed the butt-plug back into her battered passage. “Aaarrrggghhh!” 
      Drake and her mother proceeded to unshackle her ankles and wrists, hoisting her up and turning her over, plonking her down again, her stomach uppermost this time. “Aaarrrggghhh!” she shrieked, the metal pressing unflinchingly against her poor beaten and bruised back and posterior. 
      They secured her and tightened the strain on her limbs again. Drake adjusted the curve of the bridge, making the bow of her back less extreme. As he was doing that, her mother came closer and bent forward, pressing her open mouth over Sarah’s.  She refused to open her lips, but her mother squeezed her cheeks in a vice-like grip, those horrible long nails she had clearly so recently acquired digging into the flesh painfully. Left with no choice, Sarah parted her teeth and her mother pushed her incestuous tongue deep. It tasted foul and musty, and it made her want to heave. 
      The kiss was over in a minute or two, her mother sneering down and saying, “See, I can do whatever I fucking want with you now. And, when your master and I are finished you’ll be begging to kiss me, lick my cunt and lap my arsehole.  Won’t she, Drake, honey?”
      “She’ll be begging all right. Living in fear of displeasing either of us in the sure knowledge of the pain we’ll inflict. She’ll be a good obedient slave before too long, trust me.”
      It was obvious to Sarah, her mother must be on some sort of drug, she animated like she had never seen her before. Her eyes blazed like those of a striking eagle, her face wore a near-constant look of contempt, and her skin seemed to be warmer than normal, as if it encased an inferno blazing inside. 
      “Open wide,” Drake said. 
      Before she knew why, her mother had hooked two fingers from each of her hands into Sarah’s mouth and pulled it wide. 
      “It’s time for you to eat your own shit.” Drake advised, his cupped hand dropping a large dollop into her orifice as her mother quickly withdraw her digits. “Make here swallow it, baby,” he instructed. 
      “My pleasure.” Her mother used a hand to clamp Sarah’s jaw shut, the other to pinch her nose. Sarah was determined not to swallow, but resistance proved pointless, the excreta so liquefied it simply started to seep down towards her stomach, and her throat did its instinctive thing, it gulped. She wanted to vomit.
      “Can I wash it down with my piss, please, honey,” her mother asked.
      “You sure can.” Drake prised Sarah’s jaw wide.
      Her mother pressed her vagina over the waiting hole and a stream of warm, acrid-tasting, liquid sprayed out, hitting the back of Sarah’s throat. She swallowed, in the belief that at least the urine would wash out her mouth, the taste marginally better than the more solid material she had been forced to eat.
      Once the flow stopped, the pair of evil bastards went away to the trolley and used wet-wipes to clean their hands. Much as she hoped, she was disappointed, they not bothering to wipe her grubby face. Her pubic hair was the next thing to go. She had kept it fairly well trimmed, having read about such things in celebrity-gossip magazines and had seen a few girls in that condition when at school up in Darwin, they reckoning that it was better due to the humid tropical heat.  
        Losing her pubic hair was a comparatively pleasant experience, her mother seeming quite skilled with the razor. But then it was only a precursor to a painful rude awakening. The bastards had a red-hot bodkin and some heavy gold U-shaped rings. Her septum was pierced first. “Argh!” One of the adornments was fitted. Then it was her nipples quickly followed by the worst of all, her clitoris. “Aaarrrggghhh!”
       Surely, there was nothing further they could do to her, she asked herself. If there was, she did not know how much more she could take. She felt exhausted, on the verge of both physical and mental collapse. As her brain started to grasp what her state was – slavery – Drake waved something akin to a goldfish bowl close to her face, and her despicable mother shook a container of wasps. WASPS! She was uncertain what they were for exactly but she sure as hell knew she was not going to like it. “O most merciful God, help me! Please, Dear Lord, save me from these animals!” she yelled.
      “God’s little creatures are going to make you howl. We’re going to try them out on your cunt, see how many hundreds of stings they can deliver!” Drake shouted, both he and the bitch moving, disappearing from her view. 
      Sarah was unable to see her lower regions but guessed that the evil tormentors were close to her thighs. She felt something pressed to her once-private area and felt tiny vibrations. It was too much, she was simply terrified of what she guessed was coming. Trembling, she pleaded, “No! Please. Pleeease … I’m begging you! Please … M-M-Master … M-Master, M-Master, pleeease I’ll do anything! Don’t do this! Please, Mum … M-M-Mistress … for pity’s sake!“
      “Slaves don’t deserve pity,” her mother sneered. 
      “Argh!” – “Arrrgh!” – “Arrrgh!” The wasps started stinging, continuous little spikes of fire going into her recently shave area. Her stomach heaved up and down, she in a blind panic, tears flowing, pores oozing sweat. “AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!”
      She must have passed out; that bitch of a mistress was slapping her face, bringing her around. Her sex area was in torment, and she could feel something hot and hard being rubbed against her poor swollen labia making the pain worse. 
      “Ask your master to favour you with a fuck, slave, then we’ll leave you in peace for the rest of the day as I’m now so horny I need his fucking attention for several hours,” the bitch of a mistress said. 
      “Oh, pleeease. No more pain,” Sarah pleaded, yet again.
      “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – Thwack!” The riding crop hit both of her breasts in rapid succession, twice. 
      “Aaarrrggghhh!” Her fight was gone. She would do anything now to avoid more pain. “P-please! P-please! M-Master, f-fuck me! Fuck me!”
      “I think I might simply do that,” he said, smarmily. 
      He rubbed this penis several more times up the entire length of her cleft, increasing her suffering. Without warning, he pressed the end between the inner labia and thrust in violently, going in all the way to her cervix, his crotch area rubbing against her inflame clitoris and chaffing against her excruciatingly tenderised pubic area, creating a veritable tempest of pain. “AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!”




      

Chapter Nine


He surely was one lucky guy, Drake told himself. Here he was humping into a sweet eighteen-year-old the day after her birthday, and what was better still, she was his slave. He could do whatever he liked with Sarah and there was nothing she could do about it. And, when he had finished her training, there was nothing she would want to do about it either, she would simply accept servitude. If however, by some mischance, she did not submit then there was always the final solution. She was a good-looking girl, not as attractive as her half-sister Michaela, but few men would ever consider kicking her out of bed given even the half-chance to fuck her. But, if he had to, he would not hesitate to kill her. After all, he could never let her go. The only question was, what would her mother think about that?
	The gorgeous Jodie, she looking like a woman ten years younger, was currently masturbating with her left hand whilst lashing the riding crop held in her right against the slave’s tits. She was proving a revelation. Although the elixir might be the cause for some of her current enthusiasm it certainly could not account for the majority of it. Graham Parker had told him that its primary function was to enhance what was already there, that it was most unlikely to turn a wimp into a strong man, but should make a strong man stronger, turn a sexual person into a wanton-sex athlete. So, there must have been a very genuine but latent sadistic streak in her that, now given free rein, had grown and blossomed quickly. She had gladly given her family to be slaves but he was still not certain how she would react if one of her children ever needed to be put down. He decided he would cross that bridge if the situation ever arose. 
	Pleasingly, the slave was howling from the effects of pain. Besides her mistress’s action, her welted back was rubbing against the metal of The Bridge and he was ensuring his lower abdomen pressed against her sting-swollen flesh, her pussy lips for a start were bulging so wide that if his cock was not embedded he would have been able to easily see right up into the interior of her womb. 
	“Urrrgh! Urrrgh!” His bliss was mounting, his sperm on the move. It was no good, he was going to have to ejaculate. He did. “Uuurrrggghhh!”
	“When are you going to fuck me?” Jodie asked, she slavering like a bitch on heat.
	“Give the slave plenty of water to drink then we’ll leave her here for a few hours whilst I take you upstairs for a night of passion.”
	“Sounds good to me,” Jodie replied, although there did appear to be some hesitation in extracting her sticky fingers from her own vagina.
	He gave her a piggyback up the staircase and they spent the late afternoon playing in the swimming pool, discussing how things were proceeding and what they would do next. A night of passion was pursued and in the morning they followed their routine – breakfast, training and a swim. He never bothered to dress around the house but he liked to see Jodie in some clothing, it making her even sexier, so this morning she put on every bit of her maroon-coloured leather gear he had bought her.
	 Opening the door of the first cell on the left, he stepped in, Jodie behind him carrying a tray, they finding Michaela asleep on the wooden bed, she covered by the thin sheet she had been given as a reward. She woke with a start and scrambled to the floor, looking terrified, a sight that truly delighted him. 
	“I’m sorry, Master, Mistress, I did not hear you come in,” Michaela said, frantically wriggling across the floor. She kissed her mistress’s boots before getting to her knees and licking the labia that pouted so much it was hard to tell there was actually a thong stretched tightly between them. Bobbing her head, she kissed his feet and proceeded to kiss his penis, rolling back the foreskin and frantically sucking the crown.
	“That’ll do, slave!” he snapped, more for effect than in need. “As you’ve made some satisfactory progress your mistress has brought you some fruit and cereals and orange juice besides the usual bread and water.”
	“Thank you, Master. Thank you, Mistress,” she replied, taking the tray when it was offered. “It’s very kind of you. May your slave thank you properly, Master?”
	“Later. We’ll be back so I can butt-fuck you whilst your mistress dildo-fucks your cunt.”
	With that he and Jodie left, locking the door behind them. Turning to his soul-mate, he grinned, saying, “I’m amazed how quickly Michaela has submitted. But the boy is another fucking story. Let’s go and see him.”
      Jodie bent down and picked up the large steel dog bowl that had been put in readiness by the door. He turned the key, and they stepped in. Luke was suspended by the ankles, his bar-stretcher hooked to the chains handing down from the ceiling. “Good morning, slave,” Drake said, proceeding to lower the boy so that his collarbone was now touching the floor.
      “Let me go, pleeease,” the slave replied, apparently having forgotten all he had been taught.
      “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” Jodie laid her crop twice to each half of his buttocks. “You useless piece of shit! Haven’t you learned anything yet! You’re a fucking slave, so show some proper respect!” Smirking, she addressed her next words to Drake, “Honey, I don’t think he deserves any food.”
      “He needs to eat something to keep up his strength so that he can receive ever more punishment. Give him the bowl,” Drake replied, he and Jodie going through their prepared spiel. 
      She placed the bowl, which already contained chunks of crusts, close to the slave’s head. Drake unshackled the slave’s wrists. Then, taking hold of his personal hose, he proceeded to fill the bowl with his urine, saying, “There you are, slave, bread and hot piss. Eat it up. We’ll be back later to see how you’ve got on and to thrash you for all your failures and any disobedience.”
      Cackling, the pair of them left the cell, leaving the slave to effectively make up his own mind as to how many misdemeanours he was going to accumulate. Each one would result in a punishment, he already in line for a beating for not showing proper respect.
       Sarah was still spread over The Bridge, not apparently asleep, more in a trance. He ran his hand over her body, squeezing a breast.
      “Ow,” she groaned, quietly, obviously now conscious. “Please, that’s so sore.”
      Moving his hand along her body, he brought his fingers to her painfully-looking, still-swollen, labia and tickled them before pushing two digits into the gapping gap.
      “Ooow, no, please.”
      “Splat!” He slapped his other hand hard against her pubic area.
      “Aaarrrggghhh! Pleeease.”
      His cock had hardened without him having to touch it. He rubbed it against her sex before pushing it in.
      “Aaarrrggghhh!”
      “You will learn, slave, that you exist for my pleasure and if that proves painful to you then so much the better. You’ve displeased me already this morning with your rudeness so you’re going to get a beating,” he advised, coldly.
      “Shall we do it now?” Jodie asked, sounding excited.
      “No, I don’t think so. Later perhaps, when she’s had time to reflect on her failings. And, I see no reason to waste sperm on such a useless creature.” He withdrew, as he had always intended to do. Tormenting a slave was all part of the fun. 
      Jodie unshackled the wrists, he the ankles, before he slung Sarah over his shoulder, taking her to her cell. Her wrists were secured in cuffs, the bar-stretcher fitted to her ankles, it attached to the hooks on the dangling chains which were hauled up, leaving her hair dusting the floor. 
      “We’ll be back later to punish you for failing to be a good slave,” he happily advised, relishing the prospects.
      “Fucking well remember your lessons from yesterday, you stupid slut!” Jodie roared, lashing her crop four times to the bulging genital region. “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” 
       “AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!” the slave howled. They closed the door on the glorious sound.
      Crossing the corridor, they entered Ray’s cell, he in a foetal position. He had been left there since the night of the dinner, with no water or food and his butt plug inserted. Drake noted the little puddles of urine, and assumed Ray had simply pissed and then slither a few feet away each time. Quite smart, he thought, shows some initiative. Bending his knees, he reached down, grasping Ray’s upper arms and dragged him backwards, through the puddles and out of the door. He headed to the shower room, removing the butt-plug and plonking him down on one of the toilets.
      “Hey, honey, what are you doing that for? Why not make him eat it?” Jodie asked, looking slightly puzzled.
      “I’ve got other plans, baby. Anyway, it’ll probably be so dehydrated it’ll be like concrete.”
      One long stool came slowly, coiling into the bottom of the pan. Drake pressed the flush, even wiped the arse before reinserting the plug. Gripping the bar-stretcher, he dragged Ray to the Panic Room. Unshackling him, he secured him to The Frame and put it in an upright position. Satisfied with the arrangements so far, he wheeled the trolley into the store room, replenishing a few items. 
      “No wasps?” Jodie queried.
      “Well, I didn’t think they were that bad on Luke so I’ve got to think of a way to use them on men’s genitals. When I next go to the city I’ll see the man that made the goldfish bowl, see if he can produce something better. I’ll give my brain a work-out; see if I can come up with something. Anyway, we’ve got weeks to work on these slaves so there’s no rush.” He knew that was not strictly true, important visitors were due in less than four weeks.
      Pushing the trolley back into the chamber, he parked it ten feet from Ray’s front, making certain the cupboard doors were facing the other way. He reckoning, not being able to see what was inside increased the sense of foreboding in any slave. Knowing that even he would need to stand on tiptoes to deal with Ray in his current position, Drake fetched a sturdy wooden stool, placing it on the floor behind him. “Now, Jodie, get rid of the crop and pick up one of the carriage whips. Make certain your thong is tight into your cunt as it’s far more blatantly sexy that way. And, put your shoulders back so your tits are displayed to perfection. The first thing I want Ray to see is one real horny bitch that’s hell-bent on being his nemesis.”
      “Sure thing, honey,” she replied, doing as asked, additionally pulling her nipples until they were as hard and prominent as organ stops.
      Greasing up a bigger butt-plug first, Drake carried it with him as he stepped up onto the stool. Taking hold of the hood in his left hand, he jerked and pulled it from off of Ray’s head, saying, “Welcome to the Panic Room, an earthly hell where you’ll learn to panic, Ray, my slave.”
      “Jodie … Jodie, darling … is that you,” Ray said, sounding uncertain. “You’ve done something to your hair.”
      “Who the fuck else do you think I am?” she snapped back.
      “But-but what are you doing dressed like that? You look like some streetwalker. That costume’s so obscene and lewd.”
      Drake watched over Ray’s shoulder as Jodie put a hand to her pussy and started stroking it, saying, “The clothes are meant to be lewd, as you put it. They’re fucking great, I’d say.”
      “Darling, please don’t use that sort of language, you know it’s so rude. Why are you talking like that anyway? What’s going on? You owe me an explanation. And another thing, I’ve been held prisoner, why?”
      “Because, Ray, boy, you’re our slave,” Drake crooned, putting his head close to Ray’s ear.
      “I knew you’d be involved somewhere in this. There was always something about you that … well, made me feel uncomfortable … what do you mean, ‘slave’?”
      “Well, slave, I’m going to make you more uncomfortable still.” Drake took hold of the fitment in Ray’s anus and yanked it out, shoving the other one in its place.
      “Arrrggghhh!” – “Aaarrrggghhh!” Ray responded.
      “A slave, Ray, is someone like you,” Drake happily advised. “And, slaves exist to be whipped, buggered and tortured by their master and mistress for their own perverse amusement. And hell, Ray, I’m so looking forward to wiping that holier-than-thou smugness off your face.”
      “You’re mad. You’ll never get away with such nonsense. People will find me. The children will …” Ray’s words trailed to an end.
      Jodie was shaking her head, saying, “You pathetic arsehole, don’t ya think we have thought of that. No one knows where you are. Everyone thinks we’ve all gone north to Queensland. And the children are slaves too—”
      “You leave my children alone!” 
      Shaking her head again, Jodie said, sounding smarmy, “Tut, tut, how fucking stupid you are. And, don’t you tell me what to do, ever again. I give the orders from now on. Anyway, it’s too late for you to save the children, Drake’s already had them.”
      “O Sweet Jesus, protect me, protect my children. Save us from … from these evil fiends.”
      “Only two of them are yours, Ray, and I made use of them both, just as I did with my own daughter,” Drake crowed.
      “What do you mean, only two are mine?” Ray yelled, sounding flustered.
      “You are a stupid fool, Ray, surely you realised Michaela isn’t yours? Surely you realised I was pregnant when I married you!” Jodie shouted back. “Only came home ’cos of that! At the time I didn’t think I wanted Drake raising any child of mine, but now I wouldn’t give a shit! I’m just after having a horny fuck-filled time!”
       “I always suspected there was something …” Ray said, commencing to cry, shoulders shuddering, it as if his worst thoughts had been confirmed.
      Drake coiled his left arm about Ray’s neck, pressing it tight across the windpipe, using his other hand to pull out the butt-plug so recently lodged. His cock was hard, he inflamed with lust to inflict yet more degradation on the object of his contempt. Pressing the now exposed purple crown up to the hole, he sniggered before yelling, “Prepare to be buggered, boy!” With that he shoved upwards, forcing open the sphincter, pushing in his cock. 
      “AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!” Ray howled. “M-may G-God forgive you! T-this is a w-wicked t-thing y-you do!”
      “Urrrgh! Urrrgh!” Drake snorted, thrusting with renewed force, driving higher up the rectum. Putting his lips close to his victims left ear, he whispered, “That sanctimonious crap ain’t going to save you. I’m going to use you like some teenage rent-boy and also inflict all manner of pains onto you. And when I’m ready, I might just fucking kill you for the thrill it’ll give me.”
      “My earthly body … matters not. Whatever God’s purpose … is for me … is his prerogative alone … not yours. My soul is his … and that’s all that matters.” Ray replied, between taking gasps of breath.
      Drake’s whisper had evidently not been as quiet as he had thought, Jodie stepping right up to Ray, fondling his genitalia and saying, “Promise me, honey, if you do decide to kill this arsehole then you must let me castrate him first.”
      “Sweet, Jesus … Jodie, darling … what’s got into you? How can you … even suggest such … a thing? What sort of devil … has possessed you?”
      “Sex and sadism, Ray. Fucking and inflicting pain are my gods now. And after all, Ray, what do you need balls for, you never used them that much even when you had the chance.”
      “Aaarrrggghhh!” Ray yelled, she having twisted his scrotum.
      “Doesn’t look like you’re going to get much mercy it that quarter, does it, slave?” Drake hissed, humping harder, building to his climax, it coming with a satisfying gush. “Uuurrrggghhh!” 
      “He’s one hell of a randy fucker, don’t you think, Ray? Gives me a good seeing to every day. I just love it. Always reminds me of our wedding night, which he spent humping me whilst you were passed-out on the floor,” Jodie advised, malicious gleam on her face. 
      “You what!” Ray cried out, obviously shocked.
      “A real bitch, isn’t she?” Drake happily advised, thinking, she has certainly developed a really nasty gift for twisting the knife. “Hey, baby, why don’t you brand him whilst I shove this butt-plug back into his arse?”
      “Sure, honey.” Jodie skipped to the trolley and was soon back, pressing the hot iron.
      “AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH! O God! O God! Help me, Lord, to endure these sinner’s torments! Give me the strength to overcome their evil and to walk in your righteous path!” Ray was patently doing his best to be stoic. Drake pushed home the big plastic stopper. “Aaarrrggghhh!”
      Stepping down, Drake lifted the stool and moved it to a position in front of the slave. “Give me the hot bodkin, baby, I’ll ring his nose, nipples and scrotum.” 
      Ray yelped with pain as the bodkin was pushed through, but nowhere near as loud or as long as Drake would have liked. He fitted the rings in the nose and nipples, Jodie that in the scrotum, before the pair of them set to lashing the newest slave’s back. The slave however commenced repetitively reciting Psalm 23 followed by Psalm 21. 
      “I’ve had enough of you wanting to be some sort of modern day martyr! Shut the fuck up, will you?” Drake snapped, tossing his whip aside.
      “Repent and the Lord Jesus will welcome you back into his flock,” Ray replied.
      “He gets these holier than you episodes! Same when we were fucking married! Have a row with him and it’s all one-sided, he’d start spouting scriptures, trying to make you feel guilty! The only way to shut him up is put the bloody gag back!” Jodie shouted. Her face was vividly flushed, she clearly in a rage. 
      “I’ve a better idea.” Drake stomped to the trolley, putting the bodkin back in the flame. Going to the storeroom, he opened several drawers, extracting the items he wanted. “Hold these will you, baby,” he said, on his return, passing them over. 
       “What are you going to do?” she asked.
      “Stop his tongue wagging.” Drake picked up the bodkin and stepped up onto the stool before reaching down and taking the long-jawed pliers from Jodie’s hands that he had given her. He used them to grip Ray’s tongue and stretch it to its fullest, pushing the bodkin through about an inch from its tip. Dropping the bodkin, he told Jodie to join him and fit the ring whilst he took the remaining items from her. She was an expert now at fitting rings, he reckoned, she quickly having this new one in place. He attached a foot-long chain to the ring, and then a metal weight the size of a golf ball to its other end. Letting it swing free ensured that Ray’s tongue was dragged from his mouth. It did not stop his prattling, but it certainly made his words far less coherent.
      “Oh, honey, I’d never of thought of that. It’s so wickedly funny, quite effective too. I only wish I could’ve done that to him for the last fifteen years or so.” Jodie gave Drake a long French kiss, he presuming that it was delivered, in part, to rub Ray’s nose further into the dirt. “Give me a real hard fuck will you? I’m so fucking horny. And anyway, I think the slave needs to see how his mistress gets her kicks and how his master gives them to her.” 
      “What a good idea.” He simply knew it would give the slave mental anguish to see the two of them fornicating. And mental torture was nearly as good as physical when it came to breaking a slave’s will. Stepping back off the stool, he stroked his penis five times, bringing it to attention. “Okay, baby, impale yourself.” 
      With a sneering backward glance towards Ray, Jodie did as requested, her warm and wet cunt slipping easily over his cock, giving him yet another opportunity to fuck and fuck and fuck.

      

Chapter Ten


It was three weeks later and Drake and Jodie left the house at the same time that morning, he setting off in his BMW X5 to collect various bits of equipment he had ordered, she leaving in her Mercedes. 
	Parking her sports car in front of the Clover Ridge beauty parlour, Jodie got out and went inside. “Good morning,” she said, cheerily “I hope Mai is ready for me as I’ve got a lot to do today.”
	That was not strictly true, the day was near enough free. After this visits she only had to go to Hide & Bound to collect all the remaining clothing that had now been made for her, but she liked to keep everyone on their toes these days.
	 “I’m sorry Mrs Harmon but someone phoned in to say she’s sick today,” the receptionist replied.
	It was now her habit to attend the beauty parlour twice a week, and this was her sixth such trip. Drake insisted that she should pamper herself and she was not going to argue with that. “That’s a bummer! Mai knows how I like things done!” Jodie snapped, peeved that her favourite was not available. “She’s no right being sick!” She was well aware she sounded selfish; owing slaves meant she now expected everyone to jump to satisfy her requirements.        
	“But Sandra will take care of you.”
	“Oh, very well,” she replied, flouncing over to the cubicle.  Unbuttoning her long silk dress, she let it slip from her shoulders and sat in the waiting chair naked, she having no underwear on. Spreading her legs and putting her hands behind her head, she said, “Right, Sandra, I want my armpits shaved and then my pussy waxed. My nails need attention and I want a pedicure. Get a move on.” 
	She no longer had any qualms about being naked in front of anyone, she used to being semi-naked most of each and every day. Such a state of undress was liberating and gave her a feeling of wicked decadence. In the last three weeks her body had gotten into far better shape, her belly was nearly flat, her stamina was noticeably better, and her muscle definition was improving. Everything in her life seemed to be coming together very nicely. Three of the slaves were progressing well, Michaela and Sarah in particular, Luke still showing some hints of defiance but Drake advised the boy should be cured of that in a few more weeks. As for Ray, they had all but given up on him; he reciting scripture at every opportunity afforded him and claiming to be a modern-day Christian martyr. They therefore kept him gagged and lock in his cell most of the time, Drake saying they would deal with him properly once his “friends” had visited. 
	As yet, Drake had still not explained very much about these friends, he advising he would do that at that appropriate time. There was no point on pressing him, she having rapidly come to understand that when he was secretive it was for a good reason. These friends were due to stay next weekend and as yet were not technically friends, Drake having never met them. According to what Drake had told her, they were involved in the Australian BDSM scene and were coming simply to make their acquaintance, see if they could party together some time in the future. She had noted however, Drake seemed slightly ever more on edge as the date of the visit drew nearer, as if this visit was truly important to him. And, she did not have to be a genius to work out that these visitors must be more than the run-of-the-mill BDSM enthusiast for such people would not normally keep slaves in the conditions she and Drake did, they would be more involved with the consensual side of things. All she hoped was that she did not let him down in some way.
	Sandra did a good job. She was not quite as gentle as Mai but it was passable, Jodie thought, handing over a tip, and her credit card to settle the bill. Jodie then drove to Hide & Bound, collecting her garments, filling the boot and the passenger seat with lots of packages. Arriving home, she discovered Drake’s car was already parked in front of the garages, but then of course he had not been to a beauty parlour so had no reason to take half a day on his errands. 
	Climbing out, she raised the boot lid and was about to lift out her packages when Michaela’s voice said, “Please leave those for us to carry for you, Mistress.”
	Turning, she was somewhat surprised to see Michaela, Luke and Sarah coming down the steps. Drake must trust them enough to let them be outside, she told herself. They were naked except that they each sported a new leather harness. The harnesses were made of leathers strapping jointed by metal rings, and the waist belt was actually steel, hinged in several places to ensure a snug fit. Riveted onto the rear of the waist belt were two D-shaped tubes, each about three inches long. 
	“Where did you get those harnesses,” Jodie asked, instantly thinking it was a stupid question, it was obvious.
	“The master brought them for us this morning, Mistress,” Michaela answered, doing a little bobbing curtsey. 
	“So what do those tubes on the back contain,” she said, pointing to those on Luke’s belt, he currently lifting items from the passenger seat of the car.
	“One contains a radio transmitter/receiver to track us, the other an explosive device that the master says he can remotely detonate and blow us in half if we’re foolish enough to run away,” Michaela replied, quivering a little when she mentioned “blow us in half”.
	“That’s a cute idea,” Jodie said, thinking that Drake did seem to think of everything. “Well, don’t stand around basking in the sunshine! Get those packages into the house, now, you lazy fucking slaves!”
	She strutted ahead, confident they were following. “Hi, honey,” she said before giving Drake a kiss, he standing in the hallway holding the door open. “I like the slaves’ new harnesses. And, particularly that nasty built-in sting in their tails.” 
	“I thought it would give us more freedom to have them above ground, save us having to constantly watch them. The explosive charge can be set off up to five miles away so if they try and run we’ll simply kill them. And of course, if anyone tries to take the belt off or defuse the device without the electronic key then it’ll go bang as well.” He held a key that was attached to a chain about his neck, waving it from side to side. 
	“That’s good.” Jodie beamed with approval. The three slaves stepped over the threshold, all laden. “Don’t stand there like lumps of shit! Get my things into my fucking bedroom now if you don’t want me to thrash you!”
  	 “Yes, Mistress,” they all three replied, trotting on their way.
	Striding after them, she entered the bedroom. “Michaela, Sarah, unpacked everything, put them into the walk-in robe, quickly. Luke, come here and kneel down before me.” She proceeded to drop her silk dress to the floor. “Lick my slit, make me juicy.”
	“Yes, Mistress,” he replied, sounding resigned to what he had to do.
	“Splat” – “Splat!” She slapped his face and gave him a backhander. “Think yourself fucking lucky, slave! You get to pay homage to your mistress’s cunt whilst the others do the work!”
 	Pressing her crotch to his face, gripping the sides of his head, she raised and lowered herself a little, repeating the action over and over, grinding her hungry sex against his lips and tongue. 
	“I hope you’re not going to spend all afternoon doing that as I’ve got something to show you downstairs,” Drake said, from somewhere behind her.
	“What?” she asked, presuming it was concerning a new piece of equipment or had something to do with Ray.
	“Get dressed and I’ll show you.” One of Drake’s hands caressed her bum.
	Glancing over her shoulder, seeing him grinning, she yelled, “Sarah, bring me that new black PVC flared-skirt and the zip-front bustier! They’re in the same bag! Oh, and there are a pair of black two-inch platforms with double ankle straps! I’ll need them too!” 
	She shoved Luke backwards, causing him to topple over.
	Sarah assisted her to dress. Michaela finished putting away the garments. Soon, Jodie was striding after Drake, her high-heels clicking against the polished-stone floors, each end of her riding crop gripped in a clenched hand. The slaves trotted behind her. Drake opened and closed all the various doors during their trip. Once in the underground complex, they went into the corridor that serviced the cells, he telling the slaves to line up and kneel down. 
	Unlocking the door of the third cell on the left, he open it and said, “Here you are, Jodie, baby, a sweet little present for you to train.”
      Amazed, Jodie found a hooded and trussed girl lying upon the floor, she instantly coming to the conclusion that she knew who it was. “It’s Mai, isn’t it? How on Earth did she get here?” 
      “Strickland’s man, the one that got rid of your car and emptied your house, snatched her this morning on the way to work. I met up with him and exchanged her for cash. Hope you approve?”
      “Oh, honey, you’re wonderful to me. I’m assuming I can treat her anyway I like.”
      “Yes just as long as you turn her into a slave. Except there is one little condition, and that’s that I get to rape her.”
      “No problem. Let’s start now shall we? Pick her up for me, will you, and bring her along?” Jodie’s vagina was already juicing at the prospects of possessing her own personal piece of property.
      Drake slung Mai over his shoulder, she wriggling and twisting, making a nuisance of herself. She would soon be cured of that, Jodie decided, holding open the double-doors into the Panic Room, the other three slaves filing in, reticently. 
      “I want The Bridge for this one, slaves, so move your arses and position it in the centre of the chamber. Then, get on your knees and watch,” she instructed, walking into the storeroom to collect the trolley and a supply of wasps.
      “Strip her naked, honey,” she said on her return, beaming towards Drake. 
      Drake soon had the new slave untied, stripped and un-hooded, he gripping her in a full nelson.
      Looking frightened, Mai wailed, “Mrs Harmon! What’s going on? Where am I? Please—”
      “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” Jodie created a red strip on each of the girl’s cheeks with her crop, the sight pleasing her no end, juice starting to secrete between her labia.
      “Argh! Argh! Please, Mrs Harmon—”
      Interrupting, Jodie shouted, “Shut the fuck up, slut! You’re now a slave! I’m your mistress and you’ll only speak when spoken to! This man is your master” – she pointed her crop at Drake – “and he gave you to me so you can be my personal maid! You will be beaten, whipped and punished until you’re broken and submit to my will! Your training starts now!” Jodie felt adrenaline coursing. “Put her on The Bridge, honey. Stomach upwards, please.”
      Whilst Drake carried out her request, she advised Mai of the four rules, playfully slapping the flapper on the end of her crop against the slave’s cheek, deliberately tormenting her. Once he had finished, she set to work, slashing the crop repeatedly against Mai’s breasts, belly and thighs. “Thwack!” – “Thwack!” – “Thwack!”
      Weeping, Mai shrieked after every delivery, “Argh!”
      Jodie had hardly broken into a sweat but was pleased at seeing what she was creating in her victim – fear, perspiration and lots of tears. “Drake, honey, will you shave her cunt whilst I ring her, please.”
      He complied. She happily pushed the bodkin through the nose, nipples and the clitoral prepuce, fitting the rings herself. Every one of her actions was accompanied by fear-filled screams from Mai whose body was now in a constant quivering condition.
      “Slave, I’m going to brand you. It might hurt a little but it’ll be worth it in the end as it’ll make you appreciate that you are indeed my property, and that I can and will do anything I want with you.” With glee racing through her, Jodie pressed the white-hot marker to the side of the left buttock.
      “AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!” Mai shrieked, her body jerking as best it could. “Pleeease! Pleeease! What have I done to deserve this?”
      Sniggering first, Jodie replied, “You’re a slave, Mai. And surely even an Asian slut like you understands what that means. It means I can do what I like with you. The sooner you understand that, the better. And, remember what I told you. You must call me mistress. Now, I’m going to put some wasps on your right tit whilst your master fucks you.” Jodie put the goldfish bowl in place and released the wasps at the same moment that Drake drove his stiff prick into the slave’s cunt. 
      “Argh! Argh! Argh! Argh! AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!” Mai howled, looking terror-struck as the striped attackers did their worst. 
      Whether it was the wasps or the rape or both that caused the agonised response in Mai it did not matter. Contentment swept Jodie, she unable to resist slipping her left fingers under her skirt and stroking her wet labia. All that mattered to her was the terror she was instilling into her victim. The wasps died too soon, but they had done their work, the slave’s pert breast swelling to near twice the size that it had started out at that afternoon. 
      “Urrrgh! Urrrgh!” Drake grunted, face running sweat, patently nearing coming. He thrust ever more rapidly, she watching with immense satisfaction as he contorted his face and obviously spurted. “Uuurrrggghhh!”   
        Unshackling Mai’s hands, Jodie gripped the wrists, waiting for Drake to fully empty every drop of his cum before she calmly said, “Honey, will you unfasten her and shove her onto the floor. Then, slave, if you want me to stop beating you you’d best crawl flat on your belly to me and tell me you’re happy to be my slave.”
      Much to Jodie’s delight, Mai wriggled across the floor and lay prostrate before her, although she noted the chest was not pressed to the concrete. “Please, Mrs Harmon, don’t hurt me anymore. Just let me go. I’m begging you, pleeease.”
      “I’m your mistress now, you worthless slut!” Jodie roared, stamping one of her platform shoes down on the girl’s neck, forcing her hard against the floor. “You’re a fucking slave! A slave! Get that into your thick Asian brain! You three” – she snarled in the direction of the still-kneeling slaves – “get The Tree out here now! I want this useless piece of shit impaled! Then I’m going to whip her black and blue and the master is going to bugger her without her arsehole being prepared!”
      Begging and pleading, Mai was soon fastened onto The Tree, her tight vagina pushed firmly onto the prong. With zeal, Jodie commenced lashing a carriage whip across the slave’s back and bum, creating rows of red stripes and vivid welts. It surprised her how much energy she expended, perspiring profusely by the time she ended her efforts.
      “Aaarrrggghhh!” Mai yelled after every delivery, her body jerking with each blow, the prong forced ever deeper.
      “Now, Drake, honey, bugger the Asian slut,” Jodie said, seeing his cock already waiting, standing to attention, obviously anticipating going into action.
      “Sure thing, baby,” he replied, greasing the anus, greasing his purple head. He pressed up to the tight little hole, trying to force an entrance. His hands went around Mai, cupping her breasts to give extra leverage.
        “Aaarrrggghhh!” Mai shrieked, as his grip tightened.
      His face flushed, the veins on his temples stood proud, the muscles of his buttocks tautened, he clearly straining to penetrate her. “Urrrgh!” he snorted. Obviously, he was not going to be denied. The unmitigated pressure he was delivering suddenly paid off, Mai’s sphincter giving in to his battering ram. 
      “P-pleeease. N-no don’t— AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!”
      Jodie smirked with satisfaction, Drake grinned with achievement, he now driving his prick up and down. At the same time, the wooden prong was forced ever deeper into the slave’s cunt. 
      “Urrrgh! Urrrgh!” Drake grunted. 
      “Ooowww! Ooowww!” Mai groaned. But her tune changed, she obviously building to an involuntary orgasm. Her body tensed and shuddered. “A-a-a-a-a-a-aaahhhhhh!”
	 “Uuurrrggghhh!” Drake snarled, a picture of triumph filling his face.
	 He withdrew his coated weapon and snapped his fingers, issuing an order, “Hey, you three slaves, come over here and suck my cock clean!”
 	Michaela and Sarah came rushing, each kneeling before one of his spread legs. Luke moved more sedately, apparently reluctantly getting to his knees in a position between his two sisters. Drake grasped his hair and pushed his bulb into the boy’s mouth, the girls lapping either side of his shaft. “You’ll be punished, boy, for your tardiness,” Drake advised, in an icy tone.
	“You’re going to get fucking whipped, you shit-head! It’s time you accepted you’re nothing more than a slave!” Jodie hissed into Luke’s ear, her left hand now gripping the back of his neck. Getting ever more excited at the prospect, she carried on, “If I have to, I’ll take all the skin off your back!”
	“We have guests coming next Friday and all of you had better be on your best behaviour otherwise you’ll suffer! As it is, some of you will need a firm hand over the next few days simply so you fully appreciate who are your master and mistress!” Drake yelled, forcing his purple crown to the back of Luke’s mouth. 

      

Chapter Eleven


Jodie felt quite nervous, as if expecting royalty or celebrities instead of merely some would-be friends. She was standing in the hall, the four slaves kneeling in a row, and Drake was pacing back and to. For a change, he was dressed in casual trousers, a yellow polo shirt, and had brown slip-on shoes upon his feet. At his request, she was wearing a lace-up short dress in red PVC, her breasts straining to burst over the top of the low-cut neckline, and matching street-walker’s spike-heeled sandals with double ankle straps.
	 They were waiting for the first of their guests to arrive, Drake having only a few moments before answered the intercom, telling the first arrival to drive on up to the house. A silver-colour Jaguar pulled up on the garages’ forecourt. Drake opened the front door of the house, saying, “Luke, go and carry the baggage and mind that you’re polite.”
	Minutes later a distinguished-looking man in his fifties stepped in over the threshold, his silver-grey hair neatly trimmed, as was his moustache. Walking behind him was a Latin-looking woman at least twenty years his junior, Luke bringing up the rear, two suitcases in hand. “Hello, I’m Hammond Strickland, Graham Parker’s friend” he said, proffering his hand to Drake. “We’ve spoken on the telephone.”  
	“I recognise the voice. It’s good to meet you at last. I’m Drake Harmon and this gorgeous creature in red is my partner, Jodie,” Drake said, gesturing with a finger.
	“Nice to meet you,” Jodie said, offering her mitt. 
	He bowed his head, kissing the back of her hand. “Charmed. I’ve heard much about you from Drake but I’m afraid Graham was unable to tell me a thing.”
	“That’s because I did not get involved with Graham until long after Jodie returned to Australia,” Drake volunteered.
	“Ah, that would explain it. By the way this is Grace, my wife. She’s one of those mail-order brides from the Philippines who thought she was going to get herself a soft-hearted Aussie feller and pussy-whip him into pandering to her wishes. But I soon cured her of that idea and stopped her nagging too,” Hammond said, turning to the Latin-looking woman, who all the time had her eyes focused onto the floor. He prised open her mouth to reveal half of her tongue was missing.
	“That’s certainly one effective way of keeping a wife quite,” Drake said, laughingly. 
	“Yes indeed. Wives need to know their place. My first wife started to rebel so much that I simply had to put her down.”
	My God, I hope Drake never has any ideas like that in my direction, Jodie thought. Although she had known all along that killing was part of the sadism scene it was something of a shock to hear the two men openly talking about disposing of wives as if they were merely some sort of sick animal.. “Michaela, show your master’s guests to their bedroom. Mister Strickland, I’ve put you in one of the rooms at the front, you get a good view over the garden but it gets the full sun so I’ve left the shades drawn. I hope that is satisfactory for you and your wife?”
	“I’m certain it will be, Mrs Harmon. And, don’t worry about Grace; she usually sleeps on the floor like an animal should. That is unless I want to fuck her.”
	 Michaela got to her feet and guided the guests on their way, Luke following. The buzzer sounded for the intercom and Drake stepped into the study, answering it. By the time a white Shogun arrived, Michaela and Luke had returned, Drake sending them out to collect the luggage. 
	“I’m Jerry Jackson from Sydney,” the short rotund man with the bald pate said. Indicating a tall, blonde-haired, man, he went on. “This is Nils Nordfeldt from Melbourne. I picked him up on the way, so we could chat during the journey.” 
	“Nice to meet the pair of you,” Drake replied, shaking hands before partially turning. “This is my partner, Jodie.”
	 “Hi,” Jodie said, shaking the obviously reticently offered hands. That gave her a few niggling things to fret about. Like, what was actually going on? She eyed them up. Both were in their fifties, and looked like prosperous businessmen. 
	Jerry introduced his wife to Drake, she some ten years younger than him, her eyes downcast. “This is Rose. We’ve been married for twenty years now so fortunately she knows her place and I have little trouble with her.” She did not say a word, just kept her eyes focused on the floor.
	“Violeta here is a Bulgarian whore who I acquired three years ago,” Nils advised. His woman was around thirty and possessed very large breasts, Jodie noting how the front of Drake’s trousers suddenly bulged out when he looked down into the vast cleavage. 
	“Sarah, Michaela, show these guests to their bedrooms. Luke, carry on with those bags.” Jodie instructed.
	“Yes, Mistress,” they replied, doing as they were told.
	When they were all out of the way, Jodie pressed close to Drake, whispering, “Are you going to tell me precisely what’s going on. They treat their wives like they’re slaves. I’m hoping, honey, you’ve not got any intentions in that direction for me?”
	Chuckling before replying, he said, “Please, baby, be patient. All will be revealed in due course. I know I keep saying this but you’re simply going to have to trust me.”
	“Hmm,” she uttered, pondering. It was certainly true; he had never let her down so perhaps she was getting paranoid about nothing. But there again, owning slaves was certainly changing his overt attitudes, bringing them into line with his covert ones. Most humans were now dispensable, as far as he was concerned. “You know me. I like to know what’s planned but I’ll do my best to wait and see,” she said.
      	   At that moment the buzzer sounded, Drake going to answer the intercom. On his return, he advised her that the last of the guests were on their way up from the gate. The three slaves appeared, having completed their duties and were about to kneel when Jodie told them to remain standing. She sent Luke out to assist with the baggage as a red Range Rover drew up on the forecourt. 
      A big man, some six-foot-three-inches tall, weighing perhaps eighteen stone, not really fat, simply heavily built, strode into the house. His right hand, the fingers seemingly as large as bananas, vigorously pumped Drake’s, he saying, “G’day, I’m Bruce Brandon from Townsville, the chairman of UPSS. I’m assuming Hammond Strickland told you to expect me.” 
      “He d-did in-in-indeed,” Drake replied, seeming to be distracted. 
      “I see you’ve noticed my pony-girl, pretty damned cute don’t you think? She’s called Tara and I thought I’d give her a treat and bring her along,” Bruce said, drawing his companion closer.
      “Very stunning,” Drake replied, Jodie noting he was staring at a truly stunning looking female, a momentary twinge of jealousy sparking in her brain.
      The girl was stark naked, tall and leggy, her breasts beautifully rounded and the size of extra-large grapefruits. Her head was devoid of hair although she possessed elegant arched eyebrows. A ring in her nose sported a small bell, and around each ankle was a delicate chain with further tiny bells that softly jingled when she walked. Momentarily, her mouth opened and revealed that there were two steel barbells through her tongue, they clacking against her teeth.
      Phew, Jodie thought, she really is good-looking. Drake’s cock evidently thought so too, it appearing to be in danger of ripping a hole through the front of his trousers.
      “This, Bruce, is Jodie, my partner,” Drake said, placing his hand on her shoulder.
      “Nice to meet you, Mrs Harmon,” Bruce said, his big hand almost crushing hers.
      “And me you,” she responded. 
      “I’ll get this slave to show you to your room, Bruce,” Drake said, snapping his fingers at Michaela. “I thought we could meet up by the outdoor swimming pool in say half an hour and have some food from the barbecue, take a dip to cool off.”
      “Good idea. I can hardly wait to get out of these clothes. I’ve been travelling for two days so a swim sounds very inviting.”
      “Don’t stand there, girl, show your master’s guest to his room,” Jodie snapped, in Michaela’s direction, she doing so more for effect than necessity, the slave already leading Bruce towards the bedrooms.
      Thirty minutes or so later, Jodie was supervising Luke, he in charge of cooking the food. The four men and their women strolled onto the patio, all of them naked. What caught her attention instantly was that all the males appeared to be well-endowed, no one quite as big as Drake but they were certainly bigger than average. Unable to resist, she blatantly licked her lips lasciviously, wondering whether she would be lucky enough to get pleasured by one or more of them over the weekend. The men dived into the pool and swam a length, the women dutifully standing on the surround, keeping their heads tilted towards the ground. 
      Mai handed out the towels as the men left the pool via the corner steps, they proceeding to sit down around the slatted-wood table, the women left standing where they were. 
      “Drinks, everyone,” Jodie said, waggling fingers at Sarah and Michaela as an indicator they should dispense ice-laden tumblers containing rum punch that were already on the trays they were holding. “Food is coming up in a minute or two. Luke is a little slow at barbecuing as he’s inexperienced. But, he’ll still get a flogging if it’s not up to scratch.”
      	Drake stripped off his clothes, handing them to Mai, she trotting away to the bedroom to put them away. 
      “She’s well welted,” Hammond observed.
      “Yes. She’s Jodie’s new maid. She’s only been here a week so has only just started her training,” Drake replied, joining the men at the table.  
      “All our slaves are relatively new, so they’re all still in training,” Jodie volunteered, she currently feeling somewhat overdressed. She proceeded to undo the top three inches of the lacing, exposing extra areas of her breasts.
      Food was served on long metal skewers, the men guzzling theirs down. She ate more daintily whilst the women and slaves nibbled as quickly as they could, they squatting down on their haunches. When Bruce had finished, he held up his fingers. Without him needing to say a word, Tara went over and sucked them clean. 
      “I’m going to lounge in the pool so why don’t you men join me,” Bruce said, rising to his feet. Moving to the pool, he sat down, halfway up the flight steps, water lapping over the tops of his thighs. The three other male guests waded into the water, leaning back against the shallow-end wall of the pool. Jumping in, Drake took up a position standing some six feet away, facing them, the water’s surface washing his navel. 
      Jodie felt slightly peeved, not having been invited. Lifting the dress over her head, she handed it to Mai, instructing her to go and put it away. Still in her high-heels, she stepped off the deep-end surround, swimming part way, before putting her feet on the bottom and wading to stand next to Drake.
      “This is a little embarrassing, Drake. Delightful as Jodie looks; woman simply cannot be members of UPSS. I’m sorry,” Hammond said. 
      “What’s UPSS,” Jodie asked, wondering if she really wanted to be a member.
      “I didn’t see that in the rules,” Drake volunteered.
      “Well, they can’t.” Hammond looked irritated. 
      “That’s not strictly true, Hammond,” Bruce said. “Drake is right; it’s not covered by the rules. Our founders obviously never thought about the possibility of women joining us in their own right so it’s not specifically covered. So, I suppose it might simply be a matter for the committee to decide.”
      “If you say so, Bruce,” Hammond replied, any sort of expression seeming to leave his face.
      “Could someone kindly tell me what or who UPSS is? Or is it a secret?” Jodie asked. Her heart was beating louder in her chest, her breathing rasping with mounting concern. “Drake, honey, please, what’s going on? What haven’t you told me?”
      “As you can see, gentlemen, I’ve told her nothing. I’ve not discussed UPSS with anyone except Hammond,” Drake said, his arm coiling about Jodie’s shoulders, he pulling her to his side in tender fashion.
      “Very commendable,” Bruce said. “The trouble is, Drake, UPSS members have to be rich in their own right and on top of that Jodie is your wife and that’s—”
      Drake gave her a little squeeze. “Sorry to interrupt but let me just correct you there, Bruce, and you too, gentlemen. I might not have explained to Hammond clearly enough, and for that I apologise. Jodie is not my wife. She’s my partner and simply uses my name for convenience. Her husband is a slave downstairs and even when he’s gone we have no intentions of getting married. As for money, she’s currently worth in excess of eight million dollars.” – That was news to Jodie – “She has a half share in this house plus she owns a company called Jodie Investments that has half-shares in a beauty parlour, an erotic clothing retailers, and a motel.” 
      That was all news to her too, but she realised it was probably best to say nothing. She felt a lump welling in her throat, silently cursing herself for ever doubting him. “Thank you, honey,” she mumbled, softly.
      “I see. That puts a different light on things,” Bruce said, he stroking his chin as if thinking. Beckoning Tara to come down into the water, he pointed at his substantial cock, she kneeling and commencing sucking it. “You know something gentlemen this slave performs really good fellatio as those barbells in her tongue are simply divine on the underside of my cock.”
      “I hope I get to experience it,” Drake advised, before pulling a smirk. 
      “I think you will. But for now let’s get back to the matter in hand. As chairman I think I should take it upon myself to advise you, Jodie, my dear, what UPSS is about. Hammond, Nils, Jerry and I are members of the seven-man management committee of UPSS and we’re here to assess if Drake … and indeed now you … are fit and proper people to join our exclusive club. We will report back to the rest of the committee and if no one blackballs you, you will be expected to join. It won’t be optional at that stage as secrecy is vital.”
      “That’s fine by us,” Drake responded, Jodie simply nodding her head, even though she still had no idea what she was going to join.
      “UPSS stands for Ultra-Pleasure Seekers Syndicate, with the emphasis certainly being on pleasure and s-y-n.” Bruce boomed a guffaw. “Currently there are thirty-two members. We’re all rich men who have no real need to work, but some of us do. Our aim is simply the pursuit of the absolute ultimate in sexual and perverse pleasures. We all own slaves of course, and treat them as such, not mollycoddle them as if they were merely BDSM submissives. If we are married, our wives have to be treated like chattels, not fawned over. Should we have children, then they must be raised to be slaves. Are you planning to have children, Jodie, by any chance?”
      She understood now why Drake was interested, she warming to what she was hearing too, but the question took her somewhat by surprise. “Erm, erm, my children are already Drake’s slaves.” She swivelled, pointing to her three children. “I wasn’t planning any more but if Drake wants me to have some then I’m happy to try and of course it’s perfectly natural for them to be groomed for slavery.”
      “That’s excellent. UPSS meets the last weekend in every month at different locations throughout Oz. You’re not expected to attend everyone one, but at least one in three so we can satisfy ourselves you’re still fully committed. But we do expect every member to attend our Christmas-fest. This year it’s up at my place. You can of course bring a wife or other slave with you to any meeting. However, you have to appreciate wives and slaves have to be made freely available to all members who are in attendance. You’ll need their owner’s permission to inflict any severe punishment but that should not normally be withheld, after all, slaves as disposable. The whole purpose is to enjoy unrestrained sexual pleasure, be that from fucking, torturing or killing. The host is also expected to put on an exhibition that lasts for several days and ultimately results in a long, drawn-out, painful death for the slave. I hope, Drake, you’ll be entertaining us appropriately this weekend?”
      “Yes indeed, Bruce. But I’m sorry that Jodie and I will only have one slave for the entertainment, but I think he’s going to prove rather special. He wants to be a Christian martyr for a start.”
      It only took Jodie milliseconds to realise to whom he was referring, the idea simply sending a wickedly thrilling ripple through her. “Oooh yeah, Drake,” she cooed, “I can hardly wait to be torturing that fucking arsehole Ray. And please remember, honey, you promised me I’d get to cut off his balls.”
      “You can’t be serious!” Luke yelled. “He’s your husband! He’s my father! You’re all sick and twisted and perverted! You’re standing around and talking about people as if they’re nothing more than termites! You can’t treat people as if they are merely ants that you can squash!”
      “Shut the fuck up, slave!” Jodie shouted, rage bubbling up. He was making a scene that she quickly realised might screw things up for her and Drake, the idea of becoming a member of a sadists’ club was now something that was rapidly inflaming her wanton desires. She started moving toward the side of the pool, Drake too.
        “No I won’t, Mum! How can you even think of doing such a thing, for Christ’s sake! He fathered two of your children and you’re calmly talking about torturing and killing him as if he meant nothing! You’re sick! You’re evil!”
      “That turd is nothing to me!” Jodie said, she and Drake arriving at the side of the pool together. Gripping her about the waist, he lifted her into the air, enabling her to step onto the surround. The boy needed shutting up quickly so she pranced forward, not waiting for Drake to get out of the pool. She had to be careful however so as not to twist an ankle, she cursing herself for still wearing the high-heels. “I told you to shut the fuck up, slave!”
      Luke was standing his ground, clenching his fists. The other slaves were easing away from him, plainly showing a bit of sense, she thought. He swung at her, she easily able to dodge the effort. She slashed her clawed-hands through the air, failing to make any contact. 
      “Mum, what’s gotten into you? You were never like this! The Devil has got into you! Pray to God! Pray to the Lord Jesus that his love shines on you and saves you!” he shouted.
      “Fuck God! Fuck Jesus! No fucking mumbo-jumbo nonsense is going to stop me enjoying myself!” Jodie lashed her foot out, her spike-heel managing to nick his right knee.
      “Argh!” Luke yelped, shock filling his face.
      Momentarily, he dropped his guard, she seizing the opportunity, one hand grabbing his hair, the other coiling around one strap of his harness, jerking him off balance. Drake was there, taking Luke from behind, pinning his arms against his side, propelling him towards the table. “Get the barbecue tongs!” Drake yelled.
      Hoping that she was second-guessing what he intended, Jodie snatched up the tongs from the hot griddle, the charcoal beneath glowing red, and she rejoined him. The boy was struggling vigorously, Drake pushing his head hard against the edge of the tabletop and yelling, “Open your fucking mouth!” 
       Luke gritted his teeth. Intent on causing maximum pain, Jodie clamped her left hand onto his face, three fingers pulling up his top lip, thumb and index finger digging into his flesh immediately below his eyes. He opened his mouth to emit a cry of pain, she grabbing his tongue with the cooking tongs and pulling it out to its full extent. Drake’s arm reached to its extremity and his hand picked up a skewer from where it lay discarded. With brute force, he drove it through the slave’s tongue and deep into the wood. “Now, boy, try disrespecting your master and mistress,” Drake said.
      “U-u-u-u-r-r,” Luke uttered, tongue pinned, eyes wide with terror.
      “I’m going to cure him for good,” Jodie said. Grabbing the bread knife, she went back to the barbecue and stuck it into the red-hot charcoal. Minutes later, judging it was hot enough, she carried it back. “Hold that piece of shit tight, Drake, honey. I’m going to cut out his fucking tongue!” She felt elated at the idea. One swift sizzling slice and it was severed, half of it left pinned to the tabletop, the slave going faint, Drake letting him collapse into a heap on the paving. “You won’t bad mouth me again!” she announced, putting her fingers to her labia, blatantly scratching them, causing a joyous orgasm. “A-a-a-a-a-ahhh!”
      “You’ll find it so much easier to get your cock into his mouth now!” Hammond called out from the swimming pool, he and his colleagues appearing to be nodding their approval.
      “O My God! What sort of despicable mother are you! How can you do such a thing to your lovely son?” Mai yelled, she looking horrified and on the verge of being sick.
        Enraged, Jodie yanked the skewer out of the table, the portion of tongue flirting into the air and landing somewhere. Spinning around, she rushed at Mai, screaming, “How dare you question me, you useless Asian slut!” Thrusting, she jabbed the skewer straight through one of the slave’s cheek and out of the other. She kneed her in the stomach and thumped her hard on the back of the neck, felling Mai to the ground. Snarling, Jodie kicked Mai in the stomach a couple of times, shouting, “Don’t you fucking ever disrespect me again, you worthless piece of Asian shit!”
      Trembling with rage, she turned towards the guests, doing her utmost to compose herself, saying, “My apologies, gentlemen, but our slaves are still in training so they can’t help themselves from being stupid. I just hope you don’t hold their behaviour against Drake and me with regard to us joining UPSS.” She noted that the four men were now standing upright, their cocks at attention, faces seemingly beaming approval.
      “My dear, you seemed to deal with matters in a most appropriate manner,” Bruce said. “We four are all men of the world and fully understand that just like animals slaves can let you down at the most embarrassing of moments. We’re not going to judge you or Drake until the weekend is over. We need to see your set-up, your attitudes, your training methods, your willingness to participate fully in UPSS’s practices and beliefs plus of course your hospitality.”
      That was a relief. “Thank you. And, I hope you don’t take this as me trying to bribe you, but I do hope that during the weekend all four of you do fuck me with those impressive cocks of yours.”
      “We certainly will,” Hammond said, rubbing his hand up and down his shaft. 
      “Before the horny Jodie distracts you too much, perhaps I should show you around our facilities and then I think the pair of us should commence the joyous task of torturing that slave Ray to his death,” Drake said.


      

Chapter Twelve


“Kneel there!” Drake snapped, pointing to the floor, indicating where his slaves should position themselves. Having finished showing the guests around the underground complex, he and everyone, except Ray, were currently standing in the Panic Room. 
	His slaves obeyed him without hesitation, getting down. Luke was a little unsteady, no doubt still in shock, Drake assumed, and anyway the slave’s hands were fastened behind his back. It made Drake’s cock hard merely thinking about the way Jodie had behaved without the need for him to ask her to do a thing. She was turning out to be a real bitch. Mai also had her hands cuffed, primarily to stop her even thinking of pulling out the skewer that was still poking right through her face. The four women whom the guests had brought with them also knelt, their owners not even needing to speak a word.
      	“This is most impressive. Extremely well equipped too,” Bruce said, turning slowly, patently looking at everything.
      “I think so too,” Drake said. “I have Hammond and his contacts to thank for building this place and for constructing the specialist equipment.” 	
      “Glad to help,” Hammond said, his hand currently fondling Bruce’s pony-girl’s rump. 
      “Well, it was my company that actually made the loose equipment,” Nils Nordfeldt advised, sounding jovial. “So I suppose I should really say how much I appreciated all the business you put my way.”
      “My pleasure,” Drake replied. “Give me a hand will you in moving The Beam into the centre of the room.” 
      Nils and he went over to what was essentially an eight-foot square frame, made of heavy, ten-inch, beams of wood, mounted upright on four sets of metal feet that each possessed multiple casters. Despite its weight, it glided easily into the centre of the room, he and Nils proceeding to engage the various brakes. Next, they pushed a small mobile stage up to it. The stage was fix-foot square and three foot high, there a flight of four steps secured to one side.
      “Now, Jodie, baby, be good enough to go to the storeroom and fetch the trolley. You’ll find a new plastic affair next to the goldfish bowl. Bring it and a supply of wasps as well. I’m going to go and get Ray.”
      “Sure thing, honey,” Jodie replied, strutting on her way, her unrestrained boobs bouncing nicely.
      Going to Ray’s cell, Drake pushed open the door, seeing the helpless slave in a state of discomfort. Ray was on tiptoe, ankles spread by a bar-stretcher, wrist cuffed behind his back and stretched upward by a chain hanging down from the ceiling. A red ball gag stopped him from talking. He looked dirty and dishevelled, but then he had never had a wash since he arrived.
      Drake’s penis went as stiff as it could, he rubbing his hand up and down the shaft, his callous loathing towards his intended victim firing up his salacious appetite. He had been plotting and planning Ray’s demise for nearly three months now. In fact, he had been fantasising about the idea on and off since Jodie’s wedding night. In past times he had always considered it would be too risky, but now money not only brought the means to create opportunities, it also gave the confidence that as a rich man he could get away with anything if he proceeded carefully.
      “Hi, Ray, welcome to your last few days in Hell,” Drake said, as smarmily as he could whilst unhooking Ray’s cuffs from the chain. “Me and the gorgeous Jodie are about to start torturing you for the next seventy-two hours before we eventually kill you. Oooh, it’s going to be so much fun. It’s personal on my part as I simply fucking hate you, but we’re also going to be doing it because it’ll be amusing and will get rid of a particularly useless slave.  And, Ray, it’ll also be good entertainment for my important guests. You see, they’re into doing the unspeakable too and nothing and no one is going to stand in my way of joining their little group. So, let’s be having you.” 
      He dragged Ray to the Panic Room, his indifference gratifyingly reinforced by feeling the slave trembling inside as they entered, he obviously remembering what the place was for. Hauling him up onto the stage, he thumped him in the stomach, following up with a rabbit punch, stunning him. Unfastening his cuffs, he lifted him up, resting the underside of Ray’s chin on the top of the upper side of the frame. Jodie joined him, carrying six leather belts, these used to secure Ray’s outstretched arms to the side of the beam, at wrists, elbows and upper arms. Leaving Ray dangling, he removed his gag, saying, “We’ll want that out so as to be able to hear you scream, isn’t that right, Jodie, baby?”
       “Oh yeah! I can’t wait!” Jodie snarled, sounding gleeful, following him as he stepped off the stage.
      “Jodie, why are you doing this to me? Wasn’t I a good husband to you?” Ray called out. 
      Intent on torturing Ray mentally as well as physically, and judging that they were a sufficient distance from The Beam so that Ray could see them over the top of it, Drake lifted Jodie’s left thigh and pushed his penis into her wet and willing vagina, saying, “As you can see, Ray, your wife simply has a sex-hungry cunt. She can’t get enough big cocks into it.”
      “You’re like fornicating animals! You disgust me!”
      “Yeah! Yeah! So you say!” Jodie sneered. “But what the fuck do you know about fornicating?”
      Pulling out, Drake left Jodie rubbing her slit, he hauling Luke up onto his feet and prising open his mouth. “See what Jodie has done to your lippy son. Like you, he criticised her once too often so she cut out his tongue.”
      “You what? You’re evil!” Ray yelled, obviously shocked.
      Bending the boy over, Drake pushed his prick into his arse, making a show of sliding back and to. “See how this slave now lives to be buggered and serve his master! And, you know something, Ray, there’s nothing you can do to help or protect him.”
       “You animal, leave him be! O most merciful Lord, give me the strength to overcome these sinners!”
      Snapping his fingers, Drake beckoned Sarah to get to her feet and come to him. Extracting his penis from Luke, he pointed at it, she commencing licking and sucking. “Even your little girl is happy being a whore, sucking shit off my cock.”
      “Leave her alone, you animal! Sweet Jesus, save our souls from this abomination!”
      “He’s not goin’ to help yer!” Jodie yelled, obviously on the verge of a self-induced orgasm. 
      “Come here, Michaela,” Drake ordered. “Show Ray how you like your father to fuck you.” Trotting over, she bent forward and touched her toes. Pulling it away from Sarah’s face, he pushed his cock into the waiting vagina, pressing right up until his balls contentedly slapped against her warm flesh. “Incest is best, Ray! You should’ve tried it sometime!” he called out, sniggering.
      “You will rot in hell!” Ray shouted back.
      “Well, it’s been nice showing you what I can do but I must get on. I’ve got to torture you to death over the next few days,” Drake said, in jocular fashion, he hearing Luke utter a groan. Stepping over to the trolley, he rooted around in the cupboard until his hands found what he was looking for, a heavy hammer and two six-inch nails. Mounting the stage, he pressed a nail against Ray’s right wrist and struck it hard with the hammer three times in quick succession. “Bang!” – “Bang!” – “Bang!”  
      “Aaaaaarrrggghhh!” Ray yelled, his body shuddering. “Jesus Christ!”
      “That’s right, Ray. He got crucified too.” Moving across, Drake pressed the other nail to the other wrist, striking it with a trio of swift blows. “Bang!” – “Bang!” – “Bang!”
      “Aaaaaarrrggghhh! Please, for pity’s sake!”
       Jumping off the stage, Drake went back to the trolley, laying down the hammer, saying, “Okay, Jodie bring the wasps, we’ll give this useless piece of shit something to howl about.” He carried the new Perspex creation, it rather like an overgrown female urinal bottle. Pushing it over Ray’s genitalia, he made certain it was snug against his pubic area. “Right, baby, let those insects do their job.”
      “Sure thing, honey,” she replied, giving the carrying jar a shake. 
      Soon Drake could feel the vibrations as the wasps buzzed their way into the new see-through container, which he constantly rapped with his knuckles, making the insects ever angrier.
      “Argh! Argh! Argh!” Ray started yelping.
      “This is fun,” Jodie advised.
      She used her warm, slightly clammy, free hand to slowly roll Drake’s foreskin back and forth, constantly exposing and covering his swollen purple crown, it fuelling his already high-octane lust-filled cravings. 
      “Aaargh! Aaargh! Aaarrrggghhh! AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH! AAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH! AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!” Ray squealed. The bottle about his genitals partially filled with urine, and a splattering of excreta proceeded to decorate the floor.
      “Excellent! That’s just excellent!” Bruce called out, clapping with apparent approval. “That’s very inventive!”
      “Bravo, Drake! That’s simply splendid!” Hammond yelled his support, clapping too. 
      The other two guests were also applauding, beaming smiles and nodding in agreement. Their actions gave Drake all the confirmation he needed – he was clearly doing what was needed. The cries coming from the slave were like a drug, they giving him the encouragement – if he needed any – to be even more callous and cruel. He noted with glee that Luke was on his knees, crying, and his other three slaves were standing there, mouths agape, looking terrified – that all made his cock even stiffer.
      “You tip the wasps back into their container, baby, whilst I go and get a few finishing touches so Ray spends a miserable night,” he advised, moving to the trolley.
      Armed with the bits and pieces he needed, Drake stepped up onto the little stage. Pushing up against Ray’s back, he discovered that the slave had blacked out. That did not matter, he still able to do what he wanted. He clipped the little chain to the ring in Ray’s tongue, letting the lead weight hang over the other side of the beam, stretching it out of his mouth. Wrapping a length of barbed wire around the top of Ray’s head twice, he used the pliers he had brought with him to twist the ends together and to tighten the circlet until the barbs punctured the skin. “Your own crown of thorns, Ray,” he hissed into his victim’s ear. “I’ll be back tomorrow to give you a real good scourging.”
      “Honey, are we going upstairs now as I’m so fucking horny I need a real hard humping, I really do?” Jodie asked, almost slavering, looking like she was on heat.
      Masters, mistress, slaves and chattels made their way from the basement to the patio, the afterglow of the sun in the process of turning the sky orange, pink and fiery red. 
      Jerry Jackson pushed Luke over the edge of the table and proceeded to force his penis into his anus, saying, “Like you, Drake, I too enjoy buggering boys.”
      Bruce sprawled onto an airbed, Jodie impaling herself on his erect manhood, she parting her buttocks to aid Hammond in inserting into her arse, opening her mouth wide so that Nils could enter that orifice.  
      Drake stood, admiring the scene, marvelling at Jodie’s enthusiasm. Snapping his fingers, he summoned Hammond’s wife, Grace, to kneel before him, pushing his penis into her tongue-less mouth. It certainly did feel different. Jerry’s wife, Rose, knelt behind him, dragging her tongue up and down the crack between his buttocks, she spending time rimming him. Violeta, Nils’s woman, pressed against his left hip, one large tit rubbing his chest, the other, caressing his back. Pushing two fingers into her slit, he pumped them in and out whilst at the same time proceeding to press his mouth to hers, they French kissing. 
      Tara’s silky-smooth skin rubbed against his right side, her thighs gripping his, she rubbing her wet labia up and down. Her tongue tickled his ear, she cooing, “Oh, Master, I really want you to fuck me.”
      He wanted to fuck her too – in fact he intended to fuck them all. Trouble was, three other women were coiled about his body and therefore his room for manoeuvre was somewhat restricted. With difficulty, he inched his way across the patio, towards the table. When at last they were near to it he broke off kissing, saying, “Tara, spread yourself on your back.”
      Sprawling onto the tabletop, opening her legs wide, she used her fingers to splay her labia. Easing Grace’s mouth off his equipment, he shuffled forward, pushing into the gaping opening. It was warm and moist within, he easily sliding deep inside. His hands reached and grasped the gorgeous breasts, he leaning over her to suck the nipples. Grace evidently slithered under the table, her mouth soon sucking first one of his balls then the other. Rose was now probing deeply into his arsehole. Violeta was still rubbing herself against his body, planting kisses all over his neck and upper back. 
      This was definitely how a man like him should live, he told himself, women, slaves, pandering to his cravings, doing their utmost to show they existed to give him pleasure. Nothing was ever going to be allowed to get in the way of his ability to pursue this kind of life – he truly knew that now. 
      Using long slow strokes, he moved his penis back and forth. Tara’s tightening muscles started to grip his shaft, increasing his mounting pleasure. After fifteen minutes, he gushed forth his seed into her womb. Luckily he remained hard, pumping her to an orgasm. 
      “Yyyeeeooowwweee!” she howled, sounding like a rabid bitch on heat.
      It was not necessary, of course, for her to climax, she merely a vessel for his use, but it was always so gratifying to know he had caused a woman to lose her self-control. “Right, Tara, vacate the table. Violeta replace her. I’m going to fuck you next, then Rose and then Grace. After that, I’m going to have all of you in the arse,” Drake announced, anticipating the utter pleasure the night was going to bring him.






      

Chapter Thirteen


“Oh yes! Fuck me!” Jodie pleaded, Nils cum slithering down her throat, a morsel of it dribbling down her chin. Hammond was pounding her rectum, causing mounting bliss. Bruce was bucking his hips, she driving down to meet his up-thrusting spike, creating ever more licentious desires, she having had one orgasm already.
	Nils turned away, beckoning Sarah to come and suck his cock. Jerry appeared, his penis smeared with brown sauce, Jodie happily reaching, coiling her fingers around his scrotum, guiding him closer. Her mouth opened, she sucking his balls first before proceeding to lap her tongue against the musty-tasting shaft. She did not mind doing what slaves were usually forced to perform, she simply adoring being in an orgy again. It was twenty years since the last time she had been fucked by three men at the same time.  Hell, she thought, how she had missed wild abandoned sex.
	She prayed that she and Drake would be admitted to UPSS, she hardly able to wait to be attending group sex sessions again. Besides that, her wish was that Drake approved her other plans too. She wanted at least three young virile male slaves downstairs, preferably more, so she could be serviced like this on a regular basis between attending parties. As for Drake, she could currently see him at the table, hammering his cock into that big-breasted Bulgarian whore, the three other women slavishly fondling and caressing him. Bet he’s enjoying that, she reckoned. 
      Glancing about, she noted Luke in a heap on the floor, obviously sobbing. What a milksop, she sneered to herself, didn’t he realise his only purpose now was to slake the lust of others. Mai was cowering over by the patio door, obviously trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Michaela however was dutifully kneeling close to the swimming pool, doing as she ought to do, waiting for instructions. Pulling her mouth free from Jerry’s cock, Jodie yelled, “Michaela, come and lick these men’s arses.”
      	The evening humped its way into night, the screwing carrying on until the early hours. When at last the exhausted performers decided it was time for bed, Jodie found it difficult to walk. Her legs were rubbery, cum was oozing from both of her wonderfully-swollen lower orifices, her own passion-produced secretions trickling out of the openings too. 
      Nils staggered away with Michaela, Sarah going with Jerry. As for Drake, he was greedy, stating he was remaining on the patio with the four women. Luke had crawled under the table and appeared to be asleep. Jodie invited Bruce and Hammond to join her in her bed, they wrapping an arm apiece about her, the three of them supporting each other as they made their way. “Mai, you little piece of shit, follow me and kneel at the bottom of my bed! If I catch you sleeping I’ll thrash your arse!” she snapped.
      The three of them on the bed were passionate for a while before tiredness caught up with them and they settled down for the night.
	Waking up next day, Jodie yawned, “Aaaaaaaaa, Oooooowww.” Raising her head a little, she scanned around. Bruce was lying on his back, snoring loudly. Hammond was face down; a pillow over his head, she presuming that was to keep the sound out of his ears. Stretching, she yawned again, “Aaaooowww.” She realised that there was no sign of Mai. “That little piece of Asian shit has run off,” she muttered, swinging her legs off the bed, her anger rising.
	She stormed out of the bedroom and down the corridor, her brain churning, starting to worry that the little slave had fled. Bursting into the kitchen, she glanced about but no one was about. Over at the other side of the breakfast area the door into the gymnasium was open and someone was obviously in there using the equipment. Dashing in, she discovered Drake, pumping dumbbells up and down, body gleaming with the sheen of plenty of sweat. “Oh, honey, have you seen any sign of Mai? I think that little shit has run away!”
	“Don’t panic. I put my head into your room an hour or two back and she was in a heap on the floor, sweating. I thought she might be developing septicaemia or some such thing so I dragged her out and removed the skewer, treated her wounds with iodine. It’s a wonder you didn’t hear her screams. Anyway, I’ve tied her over the end of the patio table, thought the guests might like to fuck her whilst they eat brunch. That’s assuming they are up before teatime of course,” Drake replied, finishing by pulling a grin. 
	“You bastard, you nearly gave me heart failure.” She went to thump his chest but he simply wrapped his arms around her and dragged her close, the dumbbells pressing into her lower back. 
	“Hell, you’re sexy when you’re riled.” He proceeded to slobber a kiss to her mouth. 
	Reaching behind him, she dragged her claws carefully over his shoulder blades so as not to mark his flesh, they gliding on the slick of perspiration. Feeling his penis pressing against her belly, it hot and hard, she wanted sex. Lifting her left leg into the air, she simply hoped he understood what her desires were. She heard the dumbbells thump down onto the mat fractions of a second before his hands mauled her arse. The tip of his prick pushed between her swollen labia, she sensing some of the profuse quantity of cum that had been implanted there during the night being forced out. 
	Breaking contact with his mouth, she happily crooned, “Oooh yeah, honey, fuck me.”
	His powerful thrust practically lifted her off her feet. Cupping his hands under her bum, he raised her into the air. Wrapping her legs around him, she gripped them tightly together although his wet skin meant they kept slipping. Coiling one arm behind his neck, she continued to scratch with her other hand.  He pressed her back up against the multi-gym, pumping his cock back and forth forcefully. Obviously, he had had his elixir, she concluded, he hammering into like an energetic animal. And, oh God, how she loved it.
	“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” she yelled, panting, sensations building in her vagina.
	“Urrrgh! Urrrgh! Urrrgh!” he snorted, face contorted, sweat starting to trickle down his brow.
	“O-o-o-yeeeaaahhh!” she hollered, orgasm sweeping her into a bliss-filled state.
	“Uuurrrggghhh!” Drake grunted spraying his hot seed deep into her womb. Still embedded, he straightened up, and proceeded to carry her out of the gym and onto the patio.
	“For an old guy you’re pretty strong,” she quipped, plonking several kisses to his face.
	“Thank God, otherwise I’d never be able to keep up with my horny, middle-aged, partner, would I?”
	“Hey! Less of the middle-aged if you don’t mind!” she responded. 
	He came to a stop within reach of Mai, Jodie stretching out her arm, her fingers probing the slave’s vaginal entrance and anus, she saying, “Looks to me like you’ve been making use of my slave.”
	“A man has to pass the time somehow.”
	“Ha, ha, ha, very droll,” she answered, swivelling her head to left and right, scanning around.  The four guests’ women were already outside, kneeling in a row close to where the French doors led out from the breakfast room. “Where’s that turd Luke? I don’t see him anywhere. And by the way, do ya think he’ll be anything but a fucking useless slave?”
	  “I gave him another buggering this morning and hung him up down in his cell. But don’t you worry about him. Once he sees his father killed it’ll take the stuffing out of him and he’ll behave like a little whipped puppy. Trust me.”
	There was something pure evil about Drake and that was what Jodie loved, plus the size of his cock, of course. “I trust you. But, old man, do you intend to stagger around with me on your cock all day as I do seem to be slipping?” 
	He moved to the edge of the swimming pool. “I’ll go and get us some breakfast whilst you take a swim. Then we’ll have to wait for our guests to join us before we can have some more fun with Ray.” With that his hands slipped from her bum to her waist and he eased her away from his body, letting her drop backwards into the water. 
	By the time she surfaced, he was gone. The treated water stung her swollen labia and the exposed interior. Doing her best to ignore the feeling, she back-stroked her way to the shallow end, contenting herself that the irritation showed she had had a really enjoyable and energetic time last night. 
	The guests took several hours more before they appeared from their beds so their first meal of the day was more lunch-tea than brunch. As it was, it was evening before everyone was assembled down in the Panic Room. 
	“Hope you’ve spent a truly miserable night,” Jodie cooed, running a hand over Ray’s thighs, his body still hanging where it had been left yesterday.
	She truly loathed him. Why, she had no clear idea. The kernel of her hatred was, as best as she could tell, her belief that he had deprived her of two decades of being involved in wanton decadence. But, she knew full well that it had been her decision to marry him. So what, she reasoned, she had missed out and he was going to have to suffer to make up for that.    
	Looking up at his pathetic figure, she sneered. He was not tall and muscled like Drake, nor hung like him either. His stomach was a little podgy even after four weeks on bread and water. There were half a dozen congealed rivulets of blood streaking his forehead and temples. His tongue was still stretched from his mouth and his face was lined with the pain he was suffering. As for his penis and scrotum, they were swollen and inflamed, a vivid red colour spotted with purple bruises where some of the wasp stings had penetrated deep into the flesh.
	Drawing her talons over the delicate skin, she delighted in seeing how his loins twitched, assuming it was a reaction caused by fear. Intending to make him suffer more, she cupped a hand about his balls, squeezing and twisting, a surge of devilish glee racing through her. 
	Ray’s body contorted as best it was able, his mouth emitting an anguished groaning sound, “Uuuuuugh!” 
	“I wish I was cutting your balls off now, Ray. But, I suppose I’ll have to contain myself a little while longer,” Jodie said, releasing her grip.
	Drake had disappeared into the storeroom, he returning with a couple of scourging whips. They had twelve-inch wooden handles, each sporting nine cord tails tipped with tiny pointed metal weights. Handing her one, he assisted her up onto the stage. Demonstrating how to use them, he lashed his whip against Ray’s shoulder blades a couple of times.
	“Uuuuuugh!” – “Uuuuuugh!” Ray grunted.
	Leaving her to flail the back, Drake stepped off the stage, going around to the front and commencing to thrash Ray’s chest, stomach and thighs.
	In her enthusiasm, she got carried away, landing blow after blow all over the rear of the slave. When Drake ceased handing out his beating she simply carried on, delivering seven or eight more deliveries before she too stopped. Perspiration was running down her body. Rivulets of blood were oozing from her victim, his peppered back having the same look as if he had been hit by a couple of blasts from a shotgun.  The sight of it all caused her pussy to palpitate, giving her a delicious orgasm. “O-o-o-yeeeaaahhh!”
	Relishing the idea of further gratification, she pressed the shaft of the whip between her labia and drew it up and down the length of the cleft, stoking her cravings further. “What … now … honey?” she asked, starting to pant.
	 “Help me move the stage around to his front. Then you unhook his tongue whilst I go and get the goldfish bowl. We’ll let the wasps have a go at his face,” Drake replied.
	“Oooh, yeah, that should make him howl.” She pranced off the stage and assisted as requested. 
	Standing on the stage meant she could easily get at his face. Reluctantly, she unhooked the chain from the ring in his tongue, Drake advising her that if they did not then the wasps might swam into his mouth and he could die prematurely if his throat swelled and blocked his airway. That idea quite appealed until he mentioned that she would then miss the opportunity to castrate him whilst alive. Drake held the goldfish bowl over Ray’s face, it now sporting a flap of soft rubber around the opening that moulded to his contours. She released the insects to do their dastardly work. 
	Ray gritted his teeth but the wasps managed to sting his lips, his cheeks, nose and his eyelids. Excreta spattered onto the floor and he sprayed out a stream of piss that splattered against her legs. Rather than disgusting her, it gave her a malicious thrill, she realising that it was caused by the fear she was helping create. Trying to frantically shake his head from side to side, he groaned and snorted, obviously breathing out carbon dioxide quickly, the wasps succumbing all too soon.  
	Strutting to the edge of the stage, she looked down at the little crowd. The four male guests were beaming approval, clapping. Their women and her four slaves looked horrified, as if the Devil himself had just materialised before their eyes. “You see, slaves, what will happen to you, if you displease me or your master. Live in fear of failing to please us.” She let out a cackle. “And, gentlemen, I think it’s time we went upstairs so you can give me another good hard fucking. After that, I want to use one of the over-sized strap-on dildos Drake’s given me on your women. I’m going to make ’em howl like dingo bitches on heat.”
	She was as good as her word. After being serviced by Drake and the other four men, she fitted on the dildo and ground each of the four women into several orgasms. In the early hours, Bruce and Hammond took Michaela and Sarah to a bedroom, Drake stated he was content to stay on the patio making use of the four guest’s women again, that leaving Jodie, Nils and Jerry, they retiring to the master bedroom. There they indulged in several carnal experiences before she followed the two men and fell asleep. 
	It was past noon when Jodie rolled out of bed and stepped into the shower, washing away the residues of her athletic and sweaty night. She put on a short PVC skirt and matching halter-bra and joined Drake and the guests to eat Sunday lunch, they sitting down around the table in the dining room as it was pouring with rain outside.
	“When are we going to get around to killing that arsehole Ray?” she asked, grinning at Drake as she lifted her glass of chardonnay to her lips, taking a large mouthful. 
	“This evening I reckon. Our guests will be leaving in the morning so they might want a good sleep tonight,” Drake replied, deadpan, there no hint they were actually talking about killing someone. 
	“How are you going to do it?” Hammond asked.
	“Hopefully, nothing too quick,” Jodie quipped.
	“I thought we’d cut him a few times so he bleeds and give him something to squeal about. Cut out his tongue. Shove a red-hot poker up his arse. Jodie can then castrate him. After that I thought I’d use a chainsaw and chop him up whilst he is still alive.”
	“That’s excellent. But, how are you going to dispose of the body?” Bruce queried. “Getting rid of the carcass is always the biggest problem unless of course you can actually burn it undetected.”
	“I’ve got a plastic fifty-five gallon drum to put the bits in. And, I own a new thirty-foot cruiser in the marina so I thought I’d take a little sea trip in a day or two and scatter the pieces for the sharks to eat.”
	“Excellent. You seem to have thought of everything,” Bruce said, nodding his large head approvingly. 
	“I’ve been planning this for quite a while so I hope I have,” Drake replied. “Anyone want more wine, meat or vegetables?”
	When at last Jodie stepped into the Panic Room the sensation in her stomach was as if hob-nailed-booted butterflies were kicking, trying to break out. Her skin was clammy to the touch, and she felt lightheaded with excitement. It was as if her brain was strangely intoxicated. There, before her eyes, was the thing that had once been her husband, she intent on soon making herself a widow. 
	Ray wailed when Drake slashed him with a sharp knife, across his chest, belly and thighs. Drake cut out his tongue, he spluttering blood every time he cried out. His body jerked around frantically when Drake pushed a red-hot poker into his anus, his throat letting out a horror-filled guttural roar. He had to be revived, half a bucket of water thrown into his face. “It’s your turn now, Jodie, baby. Cut off his balls,” Drake said, handing her the knife.
	Her stomach heaved, she fearing she was about to be sick. This was it. The whole of her future might well be dependent on what she did next. Was she up to it? She snorted air in through her nostrils. Snarling like a crazed hyena, her left hand reached out and grasped his testicles. Gripping them tightly, digging in her talons, she stretched the sac and twisted it at the same time. She thought she saw her right hand shake a little, but she pressed the blade up to the skin and sliced through without the slightest qualm. Warm blood spurted over her fingers, a wave of ecstatic exhilaration engulfing her.   
	“See, Ray, I’ve got your tiny little balls in my hand.” She held them aloft so that his fast-fading consciousness could register what she had done. “Now, Drake, honey, fucking kill him!” she hollered, eagerly anticipating what was to come.   
	The chainsaw burst into life, its blade soon spraying blood and gore as Drake de-limbed, beheaded and then cut the trunk in two. Killing the petrol motor, he shoved the thing onto the trolley. The second his hands let go of it, she leapt at him, excited. Coiling her legs and arms around him, she licked all across his face, lapping up the spots of Ray’s blood and his own sweat. “Thank you, honey, for liberating me and getting rid of my husband! Now, fuck me!” 
          As he inserted, she looked about. The guests were obviously happy. Their women looked shocked. Michaela, Sarah and Mai were being violently sick. Luke had turned deathly white and, as Drake had predicted, the very life force seemed to have drained from him. “You fucking slaves best understand that that’ll happen to you if you displease me or your master! Now, clear up all the bloody mess and put everything in that big barrel! Move it or otherwise I’ll make you lick the floor clean!”







      

Chapter Fourteen


It was Monday morning, the modern long-case clock chiming out ten o’clock as Jodie strutted into the hall, wearing a mauve silk dress and matching patent-leather flat shoes ready for her trip to the beauty parlour later that morning. Her four slaves were standing beside all the guests’ luggage, it neatly positioned in a row. Each slave was in their harness, and Drake, who was totally naked as usual, had the special key that disarmed the tracker and explosive devices hanging around his neck, it suspended on a golden chain. 
	“I do hope we meet up again real soon,” Jodie said to Jerry Jackson and Nils Nordfeldt, they waiting to take their leave.
	“So do I,” Jerry replied, planting a kiss to the side of her face.
	“I’m certain we will,” Nils answered, giving her a suggestive wink before kissing her gently on the lips.
	 The two men and their women stepped outside and were soon gone, their car heading off down the drive. 
	“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Jodie,” Hammond Strickland said, shaking her hand. “I look forward to a reunion in the near future.” He kissed the back of her hand before clasping Drake’s, and saying, “I’m glad I can now put a face to the voice on the phone and to the originator of the emails. As I’ve told you, I only live out at Gawler so we must meet up. And, I haven’t forgotten what we discussed about you becoming a member of my golf club. So, as promised, I’ll have a word with the secretary later today.”
	“I’d like that,” Drake replied. “If ever you want to pop up here and see us, do feel free. I’ll also let you know when I’m taking the boat out on a fishing trip as I’m certain you’ll enjoy a cruise on the ocean.”
	“Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”
	Luke carried Hammond and his wife’s baggage to their car, they soon driving on their way.
	“I do hope you enjoyed your stay,” Drake said, taking Bruce Brandon’s big right hand. “And, I hope I can expect to hear from you about UPSS sometime in the future.”
	“Oh, you don’t have to worry on that score, Drake. I’m certain the committee will approve your membership. After all, I’d have hardly bothered to travel all this way in the first place if we hadn’t been convinced you were the right sort for our little syndicate. And, I haven’t forgotten about you too, Jodie.” Bruce pressed his right hand around Jodie’s, kissing her on her left cheek, his other hand squeezing her bum through the silk covering. 
	“Thank you so much, Bruce. It’s been a real joy having you and I do hope we get reacquainted again real soon,” Jodie responded, suggestively, rubbing her free hand against his crotch, her fingers tracing along his semi-hard penis.
	“I’m positive we will.”
	She and Drake escorted Bruce and his pony-girl out to his car, their slaves dutifully following on behind, Luke carrying the one piece of luggage. They arrived at Bruce’s Range Rover and he opened the tailgate. Turning, he said, “Drake, I was wondering about what we discussed the other night when we were alone, about the terms for you joining UPSS. Are you ready to swap slaves and give me Jodie in exchange for Tara?”
	“It’s a done deal! Take her!” Drake snapped.  
	“Err! What the—” Jodie’s head was trying to grasp what was happening but its deliberations were interrupted violently, Drake punching her in the stomach before wrenching her arms behind her back. Bruce handed him a length of cord that he used to swiftly tie her wrists. The pair of them lifted her into the luggage space. 
	Fright swept through her, she knowing she was in a dangerous position if she did not get away. Wriggling, she tried to lash out with her legs but the two of them were too strong, easily forcing them together and tying her about the ankles and the knees. Panic gripped her, she trembling. “Please, Drake, honey, what are you doing? I love you? I thought you loved me? You can’t do this, pleeease.”
	“Oh, Jodie, baby, I loved you too, I really did, and it has been truly great getting reacquainted with you. But, bitch, you deprived me of the pleasure of taking my daughter’s virginity and that’s something I can’t forgive. You knew how badly I wanted that. And, it’s your fault Sarah and Luke weren’t mine too.”
	“But, Drake, we can have more children! You can take them whenever you like.”
	“Oh, Jodie, Jodie, you’re middle-aged now whereas Michaela isn’t twenty and it’ll be even more perverted seeing as her children will be my daughters and grandchildren too.”
	Being called middle-aged stung. “But-but-but, I can still have children! I know I can!”
	“It’s too late now, Jodie. Bruce has offered me this sweet deal. In exchange for you I get membership of UPSS and also the stunning Tara. It’s no contest, is it really? I get access to unrestrained sadism and ownership of a fully-trained slave by simply handing you over to become a pony-girl. And you have to admit, you’re probably only going to be really physically appealing for another five years before your looks fade whereas she should be good for another decade and a half.”
	“You bastard!” she shouted at the tops of her lungs, sweating profusely. “They said I could join UPSS and you said we’d work together!”
	“Business is business, baby. I’ve known all along that UPSS is strictly a men’s club and it seemed a small price to pay, handing you over to be a slave so that I can get to join. You know me, being able to practice sadism is far more important to me than love. Sorry, baby, but that’s life.”
	He did not sound sorry at all, he sounded glib and self-satisfied. She had been duped, and she could have kicked herself, she could have happily kicked him too. “Bastard! Fucking evil bastard! You tricked me into giving you my family! You got me to help kill my husband! Doesn’t that count for anything?”
	“Huh!” he sniggered. “It was the least you could do after denying me Michaela’s little pussy for so long. All that matters now is my pleasure. Nothing’s going to come between me and that, certainly not you. My new friend Bruce tells me I can’t keep you even as a slave as I might let my past feelings for you get in the way. That’s why he’s taking you and I’m certain he’ll turn you into one great slave. And don’t fret, you’ll be seeing me again when I come up to Queensland for Christmas-fest. I’ll expect to find you trotting around his property like a good pony-girl should.”
	“Don’t worry on that score, Drake, I never spare the lash until they are well and truly broken in. But I do have to congratulate you. You’ve certainly got this filly into good condition. Fully fit and with good muscle definition without being too muscular. She’ll be ideal for pulling one of my chariots around the property. You’ll be able to drive her when you come up. And of course, on UPSS weekends I have these little races and the losing pony gets to be the main entertainment, if you know what I mean?” Bruce said, chuckling.
	Drake guffawed. “I guess I do, Bruce.” 
	Jodie guessed too, and she did not like the prospects one little bit. “Pleeease, Drake, don’t do this to me,” she begged, like she had heard the trainee slaves do many times. But it did not move him then or now, he simply pulling a cold callous look, she knowing that meant her fate was sealed. 
	He slipped a black hood over her head. 
	Everything went dark and silent, her mouth filled with a stopper. She was shaking as the terror of her situation fully registered. Her whole world had collapsed around her, her every expectation shattered. Why had she ever trusted Drake, she asked herself? She had known all along that he was a fucking evil bastard. 
	The vibrations told her the car engine started. Seconds later, the vehicle moved, she knowing it was taking her away to The Lord knows where. Taking her to a life that she already dreaded – one that she was well aware would simply turn out to be a living nightmare. The prospects of what was to come gave her a panic attack, causing urine to start spurting from her opening. 








      

Chapter Fifteen



Women were such fucking stupid creatures that’s why they were really only fit to be slaves, Drake contentedly told himself, giving a final wave as Bruce’s car disappeared down the drive.
	Snapping his fingers and pointing it the general direction of the front door was all the instruction his slaves needed, they trotting on their way before him. He reckoned he probably would miss Jodie for a while, but then it might only be for a few days. When all said and done, he already had several slaves to distract him and he was intent on having more in the very near future. She had certainly been a good and enthusiastic fuck, and had been a great help in assisting him setting up his establishment, but in the end she was merely one woman. There were millions more out there in the country, in the world. And anyway, she was middle-aged whereas a man like him craved plenty of young, tight, cunts and arseholes, and he was determined he was going to have them.
	All five slaves were on the knees when he stepped into the hall, he momentarily turning to close and lock the door. “Press your fucking foreheads to the floor! I’m your master and you’d better show me proper respect from now on otherwise I’ll make your life so painful you’ll be begging me to use the chainsaw on you!”
	There was a ripple of mutterings. “Yes, Master.”
	“Luke, go and clean the barbecue, the swimming pool and the patio!”
	“Ye-ye-ye,” Luke responded as best he could whilst nodding his head. Scrambling to his feet, he went. Drake reckoned he could see tears, he concluding that the stupid boy was actually crying about his mother even after all she had done.
	“Sarah, go to the kitchen and prepare my lunch. You may also open a tin of dog food for you and the other slaves.”
	“Yes, Master,” she replied, standing up and skittering on her way. 
	“Tara, come here! Let me see what I’ve acquired!”
	“Yes, Master,” Tara answered, her long legs bringing her to him. 
	His hands stroked all over her body, one travelling from the crown of her bald head, down her face, breasts, belly and crotch, he hooking two fingers into her slit, the other hand meanwhile slithered down her neck and back to her buttocks, he fondling the beautifully rounded cheeks. He was one lucky man, he reckoned, this was one fabulous specimen of walking orifices. She was well-trained too, responding to his inserted fingers by pressing herself against them, her mouth emitting soft contented-sounding moaning noises. As he felt her succulent flesh and lubricating cunt his penis rapidly responded, going ramrod hard.   
	“Bend over!” he instructed. 
	“Yes, Master,” Tara cooed, languorously bending, sliding her hands slowly down her thighs, ending up by griping her legs immediately below the knees. 
	“Mai, come here and lubricate this slave’s arsehole and then coat my cock with saliva! Quick! Don’t keep me waiting!” He was going to get this little Asian slut fully trained in the very near future too. 
	“Yes, Master.” Mai was there, pressing her tongue to the ring muscle. 
	He put his hand on the back of her head, forcing her face deep between the two buttocks. When he decided she must have done as required he pulled her head backwards by utilising a handful of her hair. Presenting her with his big bulging purple crown, she soon wrapped her warm wet mouth about it. Her actions brought a delightful sensation, momentarily putting him in two minds – was he going to fuck Mai down her throat or take Tara up her arse. Those two round bum-cheeks mooning at him won. Casually, he pushed Mai away, she losing her balance and tumbling backwards to the floor.
	“Splat!” – “Splat!” – “Splat!” He landed three hard slaps to Tara’s rear simply because it pleased him to do so.
	“Ooow!” – “Ooow!” – “Ooow!” Tara groaned in reply.
	Using one hand to part the cheeks, he used the other to guide his cock to the target. Gripping Tara’s hips, he jerked her backwards as he pushed in, his cock slithering all the way until he could go no deeper, her sphincter tightening about his shaft close to its base, her rectum already starting to spasm. This was sheer bliss. 
	“Mai! Go to the bedrooms, start striping the beds! Tidy the rooms! I don’t intend to live in a pigsty even if you do!” he snapped, pondering which of many sadistic punishments he was going to inflict on her later simply to provide himself with some amusement. 
	“Yes, Master.” Mai scrabbled upright, rubbing the arm and knee that had taken much of her fall, she limping on her way.
	“Oooh, Master, that’s so good. Fuck me harder, please,” Tara crooned.
	He responded with three extra-strong thrusts. “You,” he said, waggling two fingers in a beckoning motion towards Michaela. “Come here.”
	Languidly, Michaela raised herself up, straightening her back, pushing her breasts outwards. She moved purposefully, walking like a model on a catwalk. Pressing against him, she rubbed her pussy up and down his thigh, caressing his back with one hand, stroking the other over his chest. “Yeees, Maaaster,” she oozed, sounding seductive, kissing and licking her way up the side of his neck until she poked her tongue into his ear. “I hope you keep your promise to me now that that cunt of a mother of mine has gone and that you let me be your number one slave. As I promised, I’m ready to do whatever you want.”
	His cock stiffened a little more at what he heard. Lifting the chain from around his neck, he turned the key in the lock of her harness’s steel belt. “Well, baby, as you’re nearly the same size as her I think you should go and try on all her clothing, see that they fit you snugly. Then this evening Mai will doll you up, do your hair, nails and makeup. Tonight I want you to go out on the prowl, find a good-looking couple in a nightclub and persuade them to come back to your parents’ house to have a threesome. But of course when they get here I’ll turn the pair of them into new slaves for us to train.”
	“Oooh yeees, Maaaster, I just looove that idea.”
	He loved the idea too, intending to have every cell downstairs filled with a slave as soon as he could. Michaela was going to be his helper, but unlike Jodie there was no possibility of her being his partner. He had already ensured she understood that, and that the best she could hope for was to be like the wives of other UPSS members – merely a chattel. He had left her in no doubt, if she aided him she would get preferential treatment – good food, the use of clothes and even trips out. She was aware that if she failed to please him then she would become a slave in someone else’s stable or worse – she would provide the entertainment at a UPSS weekend. 
	Working in her favour, as she herself had pointed out, were two advantages she had over her mother. Firstly, she was considerably younger than Jodie so was able to give him pleasure for many more years to come. And secondly, she was much more likely to give him some more daughters, and as he had told her on several occasions – sex is great but incest is better.




The End