Chattel Castle
by Unknown


CHAPTER ONE 

I still remember the first time that Doug told me about his dream. 

I lay totally exhausted at his feet. My body utterly battered, beaten and 
bruised. My hands were still tied underneath my back, my legs were widely 
spread as ordered as Doug began to speak in a quiet, hushed voice as his 
toes dove in and out of my spread cunt lips and occasionally he would curl 
his toes and pull on my pubic hairs as I wreathed at his feet. 

"You know, Chrissy, if I could obtain about ten more like you I could start 
fulfilling my dream." 

His toes curled around again and pulled some of my soaked hairs and as the 
delightful pain swept through me, I asked, "What dream, Master?" 

"My dream for Chattel Castle." 

"And what is Chattel Castle?" 

"Well, right now it just a dream. I remember the first time I dreamed it. I 
was all of sixteen." 

"I had just dropped off Maryann after a delightful date. Maryann was always 
one to experiment and that night she had asked me to spank her ass." 

"At first I thought she was joking, but then she assured me that she wasn't. 
And to be honest the thought of hitting her gorgeous ass with my hand sent a 
thrill through me. So I did." 

"I flipped her over my lap and brought my hand down to her waiting ass 
cheeks." 

"And at that first contact ... well, it's hard to explain. But it changed me 
forever. I liked the feel of my hand sinking her ass cheeks. And as my hand 
and her ass heated up more and more with each stroke, as her cheeks turned 
from pink to red, as my cock filled to the point of aching, I knew that I 
would always want to inflict pain on women." 

"Well, that night I spanked her ass over and over. She began to squirm and 
twist. She pleaded with me to stop." 

"But I didn't. I hit her ass over and over. Again and again. Her tears 
dripped onto my legs and I got even more excited. My hand became a blur as 
it landed again and again. And then Maryann began to change." 

"She still cried. She still twisted and turned on my lap as I held her in 
place. But she began to squirm in passion." 

"I knew it and so did she. I hit her ass even harder and instead of trying 
to avoid the blows she began to raise her ass for the next one. And then it 
happened." 

"She came. God, did she ever come over my lap. Her reddened cheeks clamped 
and unclamped. Her asshole twitched in passion and her cunt flooded my 
cock." 

"A second later I dumped her off my lap, knelt behind her, grabbed her hips 
and jerked her to her knees. I jammed my cock presumptuously and it sunk up 
her ass with one swift stroke. And God, did we ever fuck." 

"Neither of us could get enough. We slammed into each other like demented 
devils bent on destroying each other. I used both hands to beat her red ass 
as my cock fuck away inside it." 

"Her gripping ass milked me with each blow I landed. She screamed, she 
begged, she cried for me to hit her again and again. And I did. Over and 
over until the ungovernable happened. We came and then came some more." 

"It was like my cock was a never ending machine as I dumped load after load 
into her." 

"Well, naturally, after a while we calmed down and then we began to talk 
about what had just happened. We both came to the same conclusion- pain was 
a very potent stimulant." 

"Of course it was opposite for us, me giving and her receiving, but we were 
both hooked on it." 

"And that night was the first time I dreamed of Chattel Castle." 

"So what is Chattel Castle?" 

"In my dreams it's an ancient castle atop a hill, perhaps in 16th century 
Europe." 

"It's a fully defendable castle, complete with turrets, battlements, siege 
repelling equipment, archer slits in the towers, drawbridge, moat, bailee, 
keep and all other necessary means of defense. And of course there are the 
serfs, merchants, knights, squires, craftsmen and servants that live within 
the walls that depend on my protection." 

"But there is no need to protect Chattel Castle because of what it offers." 

"And what does it offer that makes it so important, Master?" 

"It is a castle for sex. Any type of sex that you can think of. The entire 
staff, from scullery maid to the captain of guard, is there to fulfill your 
every wish concerning sex. And the specialty is painful sex." 

"There are three levels of dungeons that willing victims can be taken to for 
punishment. Of course they don't think of it as punishment. No, to them, the 
willing victims, it is a reward to receive pain." 

"If you want the illusion of struggling they will fight you as you tie them 
up, string them from chains. And as you whip them, or burn them, or bind 
them in yards of chains or rope, or whatever your wish is, they love it." 

"Naturally most of the victims are ravishing beauties, but if you have a 
hankering for male flesh to defile, it too is available. Or if your taste 
tend toward Rubens, they are there too." 

"There is room after room filled with every known method of torture. Racks, 
burning rods, whips, canes, crops, cages, every know instrument to inflict 
pain. Even the serfs and merchants that fill the open air market in the 
courtyards get into the act. Some giving pain, others receiving it." 

"You can trade a jeweler your body for a trinket that you desire and he will 
tie you to the post that borders his stall and whip your body until he is 
satisfied with your payment in flesh." 

"Or if you want to take the serving wench that brings your meal you can 
drape her over the table, paddle her ass then fuck it as the other dinners 
look on. Then when you are done she will calmly continue to serve the other 
guests. And for those who are into animals there is a vast collection of 
them available too: horses, snakes, dogs, cats, goats and so on." 

"And of course I am the Lord of Chattel Castle and I collect the outlandish 
fees that people are willing to pay to have their fantasies come true." 

"If some guy wants to whip a charming wench until she faints from the pain, 
I can arrange it. Do you have a fetching young thing that you want trained 
to fulfill your every wish, well just give her to me with instructions and I 
and my staff wilt train her in any manner you wish. For the correct fee, of 
course." 

"And that, my dear slave, is what I dream of. Chattel Castle. Beautiful 
slaves that will submit to anything. And rich bastards that will pay through 
their balls to get it." 

As he finished his words, he again dug his foot into my spread cunt. 
Shamelessly I screamed as the end of his foot entered me but I kept my legs 
well spread as the ball of his foot slammed into me over and over again. 
When he tired of teasing me he removed his foot and leaned back to relax. I 
laid there at his feet in my pain and thought of what he had just told me. 

To say that just thinking about Chattel Castle made my passions soar would 
be putting it mildly. And the more I thought about it the more it turned me 
on until I could no longer keep it to myself. 

I mastered control over my battered self and brought myself to my knees 
before him, as I lowered my head in supplication as I begged him, "Master. 
May I be the first slave to volunteer to serve at Chattel Castle?" 

I dared not to raise my head as I heard him take a deep breath. I heard him 
change positions and a moment later his hand was caressing my free flowing 
hair. He tightened his hand in my hair, hutting my scalp, and brought my 
face up to look into his magnificent green eyes. 

He smiled at me and my body turned red with passion for my Master. "Yes, you 
may. And I accept you as my very first slave to serve at Chattel Castle. But 
to make sure you can serve well in that complicacy, I personally will train 
you." 

And train me he did. That night, even after he had beaten me earlier, he 
took me to the slave room and again I felt his love. 

I hung in my chains as for the third time that day he whipped my slavish 
flesh. 

* * * 

That night was five years ago and now in my seventh year of life (for I 
count my life beginning when I became my Master's), Chattel Castle is a 
reality. 

It took my Master over a year to find the right location for the castle and 
another three to have it built. And for the last six months we have staffed 
it as befitting his dream. 

At this point in my narrative I will transgress a bit. My name was Christine 
Smythe until I married my Master Douglas Jefferson six years ago. 

Perhaps you are not familiar with the name Smythe, but if you lived near my 
home state in New England you would have heard of the Smythe's. My 
forefathers came over in the ship that followed the Mayflower, but over the 
years they changed from their Puritan origins and became wealthy merchants, 
shipbuilders, sea captains, one was even a pirate and they prospered. God 
did they ever prosper. 

If all the branches of the family ever got together it would be seen that we 
owned at least one third of all New England, not to mention holding in every 
state in the Union, plus all major foreign countries. 

In other words-we're richer than Midas ever dreamed of being. 

I am the only daughter of James Springfield Smythe, III. My two older 
brothers, James the IV and Matthew, now run the family businesses as rather 
is retired. To say that the men in my family are powerful, determined, 
masterful, enterprising, successful and dynamic is like say the sun is warm. 

From the moment of birth they know what the future holds for them-whatever 
they want. 

But the females of the family are totally different. From the moment of our 
birth we are taught that men are superior and we are on earth to serve them 
as they see fit for us to serve. To the world we are all very prominent 
women. We are dynamic forces that fit with our dynamic males. We are on 
every church board, charity committee, and worthwhile position in the state 
that we live. 

We dress in the height of fashion, at times setting the fashions. We are all 
educated to our personal limits and desires, as long as we serve in a 
subservient position, never outshining our male counterparts. And if, as we 
grow up we rebel at our treatment we are quickly put back into our proper 
place. 

From my earliest recollection, I have never been spared the rod of 
correction. Prior to the age of five my flesh was corrected with broad 
hands. From five to ten it was a belt. From ten to eighteen saw the 
introduction of whips, canes, crops and whatnot to keep me under control. 

But to be fair, I must admit that by the age of thirteen I craved all the 
pain that was inflicted upon me and even went out of my way to insure that I 
obtained it regularly. 

When I was fourteen my brother James informed me that he had arranged for me 
to marry Mr. Douglas Smythe Jefferson, a fourth cousin on my Father's side. 
James and Douglas had attended Harvard together and became even closer by 
that association and when Douglas made a comment once that he found me 
attractive James and Father conferred and I was given to Douglas. 

Naturally at fourteen we didn't wed, but from that date I was trained to be 
Douglas' wife. And a very strict training it was. I more than eagerly 
complied with all his wishes. 

Naturally I was to come a virgin to my husband but in all other respects I 
was to be trained as his total slave. And I was. Twice a year, on my 
birthday and Douglas', he was allowed to observe my training to assure 
himself that I was being treated as he desires. And for the six years 
between fourteen and twenty when we married, he did just that. Adding 
refinements here and there that he wished incorporated in my training. 

When I was twenty we married and I moved to his home. At twenty-two I gave 
birth to his son. I At twenty-four his second son. And at twenty-six his 
daughter. 

Currently I am twenty-seven and my Master is thirty-eight. 

We are the host and hostess of Chattel Castle. 

When Chattel Castle was nearing completion we set out to staff it as it 
deserved to be staffed-with the best. As Chattel Castle was no secret to our 
vast family, staffing was easily accomplished. 

With our family's personal philosophy it was a simple matter to recruit. 
Every state and foreign country that we had dealings with was combed for 
candidates and they began arriving for interviews. 

Denise and Nicole came from France, complements of Uncle Thomas. After 
checking their willingness to undergo the required pain they were assigned 
the task of correlating requests and reservations, along with occasional 
stints of being slaves for use. 

Kim came from Illinois, complements of Cousin Richard. She had been his 
slave for a year and had bore his bastard son which she brought with her 
when she applied for the position of Nanny for all the residing children. 
Her one stipulation being that she required at least two beating a week and 
that she be offered as a victim for piercing (her personal favorite). 

Jenny came from Connecticut. She is my first cousin and as such was raised 
the same as I. But at twenty she had no prospective husband and thought that 
Chattel Castle might provide one for her. Her main responsibility was to 
manage the kitchen help. 

Kathy came from California, complements of Aunt Catherine who had a craving 
for female flesh. Kathy, a nimble black beauty, became the mistress of the 
female slaves at Chattel Castle where she could indulge her desire for 
female flesh as she swung back and forth from mistress to slave depending on 
her mood. 

Elizabeth came from a New York orphanage that was controlled by Cousin 
Robert where he had know that she had been submitting to sexual degradation 
for over five years. Mr. Keene, who ran the orphanage, kept a lookout for 
Cousin Robert if a likely candidate came along and from the age of twelve 
she had been trained in the family tradition. Her main responsibility was 
the running of the open air marketplace in the courtyards of the castle. 

And so on they arrived and were assigned their places. Second and third sons 
of the family were offered positions at the castle where they oversaw the 
daily running of their departments. In fact they ruled over the women that 
headed the departments in name only. 

Then came the recruitment of the marketplace staff. 

With our vast diversity we had ample contacts to choose from. Jewelers came 
from our New York offices. Produce from our far flung agricultural ventures. 
Livestock from our vast breeding farms. Seamstresses from our fashion 
concerns. Meats from our packaging companies. And applicants from around the 
world. 

When they began to arrive it became obvious that some sort of coding was 
needed to separate the wheat from the shaft, so to speak and I came up with 
the "ribbon system" of identification. 

As the castle began to fill it became noticeable that it was a problem of 
knowing who was into what. Was she a slave or a dominate? Did he want to 
worship your feet or slam his fist up your cunt? And that is where the 
ribbons came into play. Each color of ribbon that was worn by all in 
residence had a significance behind it. 

Red was for total slaves. Pink for slaves in training. Yellow for observer. 
Black for master or mistress. Green was for staff members who provided a 
service but did not participate in any activities. Gold was for upper staff 
(like my Master) who could be called upon to clear up disputes or special 
requests. A rainbow ribbon was for those that switched around; one day 
wanting to be a slave, the next a dominate or observer. 

And then there were the white stars that some of the women wore to signify 
that they were producing mother's milk (something that was ever in demand we 
were to learn). 

And thus we opened the gates to guests. We were fully staffed and opened for 
business. A very profitable business. Rates were assigned and publicized for 
every activity that we offered. They ranged from $10/whip stroke to $1,000 
to tit hang a female slave for fifteen minutes. 

Our first month saw a profit of over $750,000 after expenses. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Mark Sanders had made an advance payment of $20,000 toward his two week stay 
at Chattel Castle. The self-made millionaire arrived precisely on time in 
his private jet where he was met by Cousin David and driven to Chattel 
Castle where he was welcomed and shown to his suite. Here is his story. 

Mark Sanders was met in his suite by Molly, a buxom nymph of twenty, who 
instantly began to put his personal belongings away as she managed to show 
him ample cleavage and her twitching ass. 

"I wish you a very pleasant stay at Chattel Castle, sir. And if I can be of 
any service, don't hesitate to ask." 

"Thank you, Molly, I'm sure we will have a lot in common. But before we 
begin, could you explain how things are run?" 

"My pleasure, sir. I assume you are familiar with the ribbon system and 
basic rates?" She waited for his reply, then continued. 

Well, that's good. Your money is on deposit here and these tokens," showing 
him the stack of tokens on a table, "are to be used instead of money. As you 
can see each token of different color is for an different amount. The blue 
are worth $100 the green $50 and so on. The amount is stamped on the token." 

"Let's say that you wanted to spank my ass, which I would not object to at 
all, as you can see I am wearing a red ribbon. That would cost you a dollar 
each time your hand touched my ass. So if you did it twenty times it would 
cost you $20 and I would take a $20 token and place it here in my waist 
purse. And as you can see the purse is locked and attached to an alarm so I 
can't be robbed, or anyone else." 

"Fine. But what if I gave you $20 and then proceed to do more than spank you 
for the allotted twenty times?" 

"Oh, that's where the gold ribbons come in. Anyone wearing a gold ribbon 
would come to my rescue and they are all over the place, in case you haven't 
noticed." 

"And if you refuse to pay for what to take you will be removed from Chattel 
Castle and all of your deposit will be forfeited. But if you just happen to 
get caught in what you're doing and don't pay in advance a gold ribbon will 
keep track and collect the fee when you're done and put it in the correct 
purse. Or you can just give a gold ribbon person a handful of tokens before 
you start and not have to worry about it and you will receive your correct 
change when done." 

"Quite an ingenious system. And your suggestion sounds like a very appealing 
way to begin." 

Thus saying he tapped on his door and a big brut of a man wearing a gold 
ribbon came in and he turned his attentions back to the delighted Molly. 
"Get that damned skirt out of the way, bend over and present your ass." 

"Yes, sir. But before you start there is one thing I forgot to say." 

"Which is?" 

"If you want a red ribbon to submit or struggle, you have to say so." 

"Snuggle," was no more out of his mouth than Molly was running away from 
him. A second later he was in pursuit. 

Molly ran toward the bathroom door but before she could slam it in his face 
Mark grabbed a handful of material at her back. 

"Let me go you bastard. I'm a serving maid not some doxy for you to be a 
playing with." The material gave with a jerk and her back was bared. 

"And what the hell do you think a serving maid is for?" He twisted her 
around and pulled the torn cloth from her heaving breasts. "She is to serve. 
And you will damned well serve me or pay the consequences." 

As his hand grabbed a handful of heaving breast Molly's hand connected with 
his cheek leaving a pink outline of her hand. "Damn you to hell. You've 
ruined me best dress." 

Using one hand to pull her hair back, Mark brought the other one to her tit 
and gave it a smart slap. "The hell with your clothes, bitch. I'll rip them 
all off you, beat you're damned ass then fuck it to boot." 

"Oooooo damn you. Let me go." Molly tried to twist herself away from his 
punishing hands, but it did no good. 

With one hand firmly attached to her hair, the other using her tit as a 
handle, he drug her over to the massive bed, sat down and promptly threw her 
over his lap. A second later his hand connected with her skirt covered ass. 

"Damn you noooooo." 

"Damn you yes." came his reply as with one jerk the skirt split and a second 
later all of her clothes except for her hose and garter were lying on the 
floor and he was pounding away at her now naked ass. 

"Oooweoooo ... you bloody bastard ... ooohhhh you can't do this to me." 

His powerful hand continued to land on her inviting anatomy. "And who the 
hell says I can't? It sure looks like I am and my hand tells me that I am 
doing it. And if you know what's good for you, you'll stop your damned 
complaining." 

"Nnoooooooo ... damn you nnnooooo ... God that hurtssss." 

"It's suppose to hurt, slut. You willing to stop fighting me yet?" 

"Nnooooooo ... damn you nnnooooo ... oowwwwwwwwww." 

"I'll keep it up until you stop fighting me, slut. Then I'll fuck your ass 
like it's never been fucked before." 

Molly's ass was heating up very nicely as he continued to pound away at it. 
She felt his cock poking at his pants beneath her soaking twat and decided 
that it was time to get some relief for both of them. Her face was streaked 
with tears of pain/pleasure as she suddenly went limp across his legs. His 
hand landed again. 

"What's the matter, slut? Can't take any more? Or are you horny?" 

He didn't wait for her answer as again he brought his hand down as a 
cracking sound filled the room. But he didn't remove his hand. He brought it 
between her legs and felt just what he thought he would. She was drenched. 

"You're no better than a whore. You're damned cunt is a swamp. You love a 
hot ass don't you, slut?" 

Again his hand landed. Molly remained still and silent. "Well if you want my 
cock so damned bad you're gonna have to beg for it bitch." And with that he 
brought his hand down again and again. 

Molly lasted for five more before she did what they both knew she would. 

"Yeeesssssssss ... dammmmnnn you ... I want you. I want your cock." 

"And where do you want my cock, slut?" He continued to pound away. 

"Ffffucckkkk meeee." 

"Where?" 

"Ffffucckkkk mmmmmmyyyyy dammmned asssss ... pleassssseeeee. Fuck my ass." 

"Whatever you say." 

He stood up and dumped her on the floor. "Get your damned ass up, slut, and 
keep begging or I'll stop." 

Molly brought her knees under her, her red ass waiving in the air. 

"Ooohh God, plleeasssssssee fuck meeeee. Fuck my damned assssss." 

His cock felt cool to her ass as he placed it between her blistered cheeks. 

"Pllleeasssee fuck meeee fuck mmmmmmmmyyy assss pleassseee." 

With one thrust he was all the way in her. 

"Aaahehheeeoowwwww ... Goddd fuck-memmmmmeeeee fuck meeeeee." 

"How about aahhh some more aaahhh swatsss?" 

"Yeeessss ... aaahhoooowwwwww hitttt mmmmmmmmyy aaassss fuckkkk meee beat 
me, fuck mmmmmmmmmmmeeee." 

And he did to their mutual satisfaction. 

When he was done he pulled them to the floor where they gasped in each 
others' arms as reality returned. Using his finger he pulled away a damp 
hair from her face and asked, "You ok, Molly?" 

"Ohh I'mmmm fine, sir. Just fine. But you'll have to pay for tearing my 
clothes." 

"No problem. No problem at all." 

He looked at the guy with the gold ribbon and saw that he was holding 
several tokens that he had taken from the table in his hand. Mark nodded his 
head and the guy brought them to him and he dropped them one at a time into 
Molly's purse as she curled up next to him. 

After refreshing themselves Mark looked at his itinerary as Molly tied a 
black ribbon around his neck. He was free until after lunch at which time he 
had been scheduled to meet Karen in room five of the second dungeon level. 

Dinning at Chattel Castle was an eye opener. Ail present were dressed in old 
fashioned costumes, from ladies of the manner to scullery maids, from 
nobility to stable boys dressed in a leather over-tunic and tights, Mark 
looked to be a well filled out scribe or perhaps a courtier to some noble 
house. A gold ribboned man lead him to a table and offered him a menu. 

Anything could be ordered at Chattel Castle from lobster to dog food, caviar 
to cold gruel, the finest pate to fresh bodily excitements. 

"And what can I be a gettin' you, sir," a saucy redhead straight out of 
"Moll Flander" asked Mark as she approached his table. The red ribbon with a 
white star around her neck set off her very pale skin as he smiled at her. 

"A trencher of mixed meats in sauce, a tankard of ale, followed by an apple 
turnover and mother's milk provided by you, wench." 

"Aye and you be a discriminatin' gent, ain't ya? I'll be taken your order to 
the kitchens right away, sir. Is there anything else I can get ya before it 
arrives?" 

"As a matter of fact there is. After you deliver my order how about you 
return, crawl under my table and see if your dainty little mouth can find 
something to drink?" 

"You be a meanin' you wants me to take you cock in my mouth, sir?" 

"That is precisely what I mean, wench. Do you have a problem with it?" 

"Oh, not me sir. I'll be back in a jiffy, you just see if I ain't, sir." 

And that is just what happened. Her red curls could be seen as they went up 
and down his cock until she did indeed get a drink'. 

When she served him his apple turnover she flipped one huge tit out of her 
loose top and in between bites of tasty turnover he washed it down with her 
warm, rich milk. 

Across the room one gal was submitting to a strapping. Another lady was 
drinking from a private well of masculinity standing beside her chair and 
another man was using a birch branch on another waitress with a red ribbon 
around her neck. 

At one o'clock Mark Sanders entered room five, second dungeon level. 

A statuesque blond with a gold ribbon checked his itinerary and led him to a 
dark corner where he saw what he assumed was Karen. She had been prepared as 
requested. 

Karen was lying on the damp floor. Her hands and feet were tied behind her 
back and she was laying on her side as ordered so Mark could see that her 
massive tits were bound in stringent rope bondage almost cutting them off 
from her rib cage. The deep blue color of her bound tits gave evidence that 
she had been bound for some time and the golden nipple rings stood out with 
arousal. 

Her long blond hair was in complete disarray as if she had tossed it back 
and forth in agony for hours. 

Bending down next to her Mark brushed the hair from her face. She was 
beautiful. The huge deep blue eyes that stared at him were full of pleading 
and pain but she uttered not a word as his warm hands caressed her cold 
tits. 

"Are you ready to repent, Karen, for disobeying me?" 

Karen knew the scenario, it had accompanied his application. She was to 
pretend that she was his wife and had gone against his wishes by fucking his 
worst enemy, Jim Talbert, and he had found out about her disobedience. And 
as the story went, she was now to pay for that lapse of judgment with her 
body. 

"Ooohhh I'm sorry, Mark. Truly I ammm. Haven't I suffered enough all ready? 
You've ahhh had me tied up for over two hoursss. I aaahh ache alll over. My 
back is killing meeee, mmmyy titttsss feeelll like there are hundreds of 
knives in themmmm." 

"No, my dear." He brushed the rest of her hair off of her face. "You haven't 
suffered nearly enough yet. But you will before you leave here. When I am 
done with you you wouldn't even be able to look at Jim without cringing." 

"How could you do it, Karen? How could you actually fuck my worst enemy?" 

"I'mmm sorry, Mark. Really IIII ammm. Please forgive me. Pleasseeee." 

"I could forgive you if he had taken you by force, but you went willing to 
him. That is what I can't forgive. That is why I am going to punish you. And 
you are going to beg for the punishment I give you, aren't you? Because you 
know, if you don't I'll kick you out without a dime and you like the life 
style I can provide." 

"So let me hear you, Karen. Let me hear you beg me to hurt you as you know 
you deserve to be hurt for what you did to me. Beg me Karen. Beg me loud and 
long." And to emphasize his point he reached for one of her nipple rings and 
pulled it savagely away from her bound tit until she screamed. 

"Aaaahhhhhhoooooooooowwwwww ... yeeeeesssss Mark yessssssssss hurt mmeeee 
plleassssssecccccccc huurrrrttttttt mmeeee." 

"That's it, bitch. Beg me to hurt you over and over again." 

He pulled on the other ring until she screamed again then he walked away. 
Taking the hook that was hanging from a rope in the ceiling he brought it to 
her and slipped it under the rope attached to her bloated tits. It clipped 
into place as he signaled the gold ribboned blond to hoist her into me air. 

Karen's bound body slid across the floor as the rope pulled her to the 
center of the room by her bound tits and her screams filled the stone walled 
room. 

Just as the rope was starting to pull her off the floor another couple 
entered the room and took a bench against one wall to watch. Mark gave the 
couple a glance-the man wore a black ribbon, the woman a red one and her 
hands were manacled behind her back. 

He ignored them and turned his attentions back to Karen as she was raised 
off the ground by her bound tits. 

He saw her blue hands try to reach for the rope that was pulling up and up, 
but they stayed firmly behind her back still attached to her ankles as her 
entire weight was supported by her bound tits and her screams filled the 
air. 

"Jim kissed those tits, didn't he?" 

"Yyeeeeesssssssssss." 

"And you enjoyed it didn't you?" 

"Oohhhh Godddd yeeeeeeesssssssss ... aaaaaaahhhh pleassseeeeeeeeeeee beat 
awaaaaaaaaaayyyy his touch from mmmmeee ... pleassseeeee." 

"I will, my dear. I will. You just keep begging me to hurt you." 

"Bbbbbeat mmmmmyyy damned tits ... aaaahhhhh beat his touch away ... 
pleassseeeee ... hurttt mmmeeee ... pleassseeee." 

Mark picked up the slender rod that was lying by his feet and brought it 
down across both bloated tits. 

"Yyeeesss beatttt mmyyyy damneddddd titttss." 

He brought the rod to her again. That time her almost black nipple split 
with the blow and her screams filled his head as he did it to her other 
nipple and got the same result. 

With both nipples split and bleeding he proceeded to use the rod on the 
entire area of her bound and bloated tits. 

Karen screamed and begged with every blow of the rod to her massive, pain 
filled tits. Over and over the rod landed until she could stand it no more 
and she begged for mercy. 

Mark knew what that word meant at Chattel Castle-it meant stop, the victim 
was at the breaking point. 

But he was far from disappointed as he landed the next stroke of the rod to 
her opened cunt. 

"He fucked this cunt, didn't he?" 

"Yeessss ... aaahhhhh beattt hissss touch away from it tooooooo ... 
pleasssee." 

And Mark did just that. He hit her opened cunt time after time as she hung 
by her bleeding tits and begged for each and every blow that landed. 

Five. Ten. But by eighteen Karen again begged for mercy and he stopped. A 
quick glance at the gold ribboned blond informed him that he still had about 
two minutes left of her tit hang. 

"What about your ass, Karen? Did he touch your ass? Did he kiss it? Did he 
fuck it?" 

"Yyessssssss." 

"Yes, what." 

"Alll threee ... Godddd pleaasseeee ... beat his touch away frommm mmmyyyy 
aassss ... beat it pleasse." 

And in the remaining two minutes Mark used the rod on her ass as much as he 
could considering her position. 

When the time was over the blond helped him to lower Karen to the floor and 
remove the rope from around her tortured tits. 

Karen shrieked in abject suffering as the blood began to return to her 
tortured hillocks. 

In between one of Karen's screams Mark heard another scream and looked at 
the couple who had entered earlier. 

And as Mark let Karen rest before they continued he watched the man as he 
tore first one then the other nipple ring out of his slave's nipples as she 
squirmed atop the bench. After pulling them from her flesh, Mark watched the 
man as he placed them back in the torn nipples. When they were again in 
place he used a clamp on both to keep them there as the slave screamed for 
him to fuck her. 

He watched until they were done then turned back to Karen. 

Bending down close to her ear, he whispered, "Are you ok?" Placing his ear 
next to her mouth he heard her gasp a "Yes." before he continued. 

"Get your damned ass in the air, Karen, so I can whip away Jim's touch." 

"Higher. Spread your legs wide. Now beg for the whip again. Let me hear you 
scream." 

Karen did as ordered. Bringing her legs under her she raised her slightly 
whipped ass into the air and spread her legs out to her sides as Mark 
finally got good leverage to pound into her twitching cheeks. 

"Beeeaattt mmmyyy aassss ... wipe his touchhhh awaaayyy." 

On and on she begged as he brought it down again and again on her upraised 
ass until he could no longer withhold his need. 

Mark dropped the whip and sank behind Karen's twisting form. One quick 
squeeze of his shaft and he knew it was as hard as it was going to get. He 
tipped his hips forward and sank his cock up her switched ass. 

Karen screamed as her ass fought his entry but when it suddenly yielded to 
his massive wedge she had no problem with begging him to continue his 
ravishment, as across the room the other woman's screams and beggings joined 
hers. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

When Nicole showed us the request form from Mr. Jason Weatherbee it became 
obvious that we needed some additional staffing. 

Mr. Weatherbee had particular tastes. He wanted his two slaves to be very 
robust, way past Rubens' standards. They were to be no taller than five five 
and weigh over two hundred. He would settle for no less than DDD breasts 
that he intended to pierce, among other things. 

His check of $30,000 informed us that he was totally serious and we began 
contacting our worldwide network to satisfy his wants. 

Great Uncle Harold, who was still acting like a twenty year old, gave us our 
first lead. 

He informed us, via international telephone, that he was currently in 
Australia where he had gotten his copy of our communication and he was 
investigating a possible candidate. He gave us the basic information about 
Caroline and informed us that he would have further contact within two 
weeks. 

Surprisingly I found another candidate. I was in New York City on my monthly 
purchasing trip when I learned about the rotund Becky. 

As was my custom, I was canvassing the S&M clubs around the city for 
possible personnel. I entered one club at 11:00, took a seat next to the 
stage, ordered a drink and began to look around. 

I had been there only a few minutes when Mike, the owner of the club, came 
up to me (we had purchased several slaves from him in the past and he knew 
my reason for being there). 

"You on another recruiting effort?" 

"Yes, sir. We received a request for a very full bodied female slave. Among 
other things she must submit to tit piercings, female to female 
relationships and whippings. Anyone come to mind, sir?" 

"Hummm. There was a real obese one in here about two weeks ago, but no one 
would take her on. I mean she was HUGE. The only one that would have 
anything at all to do with her was Tim Harrison." 

"He consented to whip her, burnt her several times using her for an ashtray, 
and used her for a footstool, but he refused to fuck her." 

"So what happened to her?" 

"I don't know. But I can find out, Tim is over there. Want me to check about 
her?" 

"Yes, please." 

Mike talked with Jim for several minutes then came back to me. 

Her name was Becky Moss and Tim knew her address. 

Five minutes later I was taking a cab to her address-not in the better part 
of town either. I had to bribe the cabbie $50 to take me there and wait 
while I interviewed her. 

I climbed the rat infested stairs to the third floor and knocked on her 
door. Fortunately she was home, at least her TV was blaring away. 

A moment later a voice asked who I was. I gave her my name and told her that 
if she was the Becky Moss that had been at the club a couple of weeks ago, I 
had a proposition for her to consider. The door opened a crack and I was 
staring at a fat cheek and the most beautiful green eye I had ever seen. A 
chain was undone and I was invited in. 

Becky Moss more than fit the bill for Mr. Weatherbee. She was enormous. She 
tipped the scales at well over two hundred and I don't think there was ever 
a bra made that could encase her massive tits. Her dress looked like a tent 
as it billowed around her massive girth. 

After questions and answers, an inspection of her scared flesh, it was 
determined that she was a bona fined candidate and willing to submit to 
prove herself. Using her phone I called my Master's agent in the city and we 
scheduled an appointment for Becky. Fifteen minutes later we were both in 
the cab, her suitcase packed in the trunk of the cab and heading for my 
motel. 

The following day we got acquainted and I liked the overweight Becky 
tremendously. And her story was a simple one. 

She had always been on the hefty side, dated little because of it, and when 
the few men that she did manage to date treated her like shit she willingly 
accepted their treatment until ill treatment was all she desired. 

Her last lover had even insisted that she gain even more weight, which she 
easily did. And her two year stint with him saw her graduating from belts 
and humiliation to whips, canes, piercings and degradation. The more he did 
to her the more she wanted done and when he dumped her three months ago she 
became desperate. 

She started visiting the local clubs trying to find another to treat her the 
way she needed to be treated. Thus far she was unsuccessful and more than 
willing to accept my offer for her to be tested for Chattel Castle. 

By 4:00 the next day she had been tested and passed with flying colors by my 
Master's agent and we were taking the limo back to the castle. 

Caroline arrived three days later and Nicole contacted Mr. Weatherbee that 
his women were now available. He made his reservations for the following 
week. 

Jason Weatherbee was a tall string-bean of a man. He stood well over six 
foot and couldn't have weighed more than one forty. He looked like your 
typical nerd, complete with thick lensed glasses, but there the resemblance 
stopped. His personality was the same as the male members of my 
family-powerful, assertive and demanding. 

He was one of those wiz kid wonders who had made his first million at the 
age of eighteen and had added to it over the past fifteen years making him 
well on his way to being a billionaire. His one unfulfilled desire in life 
was a woman. And not just any woman either. 

When Jason Weatherbee entered his suite of rooms Becky and Caroline were 
waiting as directed. Their massive flesh was on blatant display. 

Caroline was tied spread eagled on the king size bed. Her massive tits were 
bound up in so much rope chat they stood straight up in the air, her nipples 
were ten inches above her chest wall. Her fat rolled legs were so wide apart 
that her cunt was on display, complete with dildo in place. A cat-of-nine 
tails lay between her legs. 

Becky's bulk was presented over a huge desk that sat in a corner. Her legs 
were tied to the legs of the desk, her tits pressed to the top surface as 
she bent at the waist. Her long brown hair hid the cock gag in her mouth but 
Jason could see the cock-handled whip sticking out of her ass. Her hands and 
arms were free and as he entered she was caressing her sand dollar, sized 
nipples. 

"Oh my, they are beautiful," came from the entering Weatherbee as his guide 
placed his suitcase on a nearby table. 

"I must have them immediately." 

The gold ribboned guide nodded his head and went to stand by the dresser 
that held Mr. Weather-bee's tokens as Jason quickly discarded his clothes on 
the floor as he advanced to Caroline. 

Kneeling beside her bulky frame on the side of the bed Jason reached out to 
caress her mountain of tit flesh that escaped from the binding ropes. 

"Mmum," came from Caroline as his thumb and finger pinched an exposed 
nipple. 

"Oh beautiful lady, I just have to whip these." 

"Yes. Yes, whip my tits." Caroline was more than eager to start. Her avid 
eyes watched him step down from the bed and take up the cat that was lying 
between her legs. 

He untangled the strands, his long slender cock pointing toward the ceiling, 
and brought his arm back. He watched her eyes, saw a flicker of fear, and 
brought it down to crash on top of the rope bound hills. 

Caroline screamed as the strands cut into her bloated nipples and curled 
around her rope bound tits. Her billowing stomach shook like jello. 

He struck her nipples again. Again she screamed but he also heard a 
squashing sound. Locating the source he turned his head in time to see the 
dildo pop out of her snatch. He smiled and hit her tits again and again. 

Meanwhile across the room Becky raised herself up and watched. With every 
stroke of the whip to her companion she twisted the hell out of her own 
nipples and began to moan with desire. 

She clinched and unclenched her ass cheeks to stimulate the cock handle in 
her ass as she stretched her reddish-brown nipples like slabs of taffy. Her 
tongue slid over the cock gag in her mouth as she wished to replace herself 
with Caroline's bound form on the bed. 

Jason could see no more pink flesh on Caroline's tits, it had all turned red 
or black and blue, when he altered his area of attack and buried the whip 
strands into her shaking middle as she screamed to high heaven. When he 
curled several strands of the cat to kiss her spread cunt she screamed for 
him to stop as she begged for mercy. 

Jason knew the rules of Chattel Castle and no more blows landed on her 
opened cunt, but they did land on her legs, stomach and again on her bound 
tits. 

The anticipation of his dreams finally caused him to drop the cat and 
straddle her atop the bed. As his long cock sank into her saturated cunt 
flesh he used his hands to unwrap her tits. 

When they were finally free he clamped his mouth on them like a starving man 
seeking life's sweetest nectar. He loved huge tits. Loved to suck them, kiss 
them, bite them, whip them and fuck them and the two in his possession were 
all he had dreamed they would be. 

He slammed his frame into the flesh beneath him, shook with her quivering 
padding as his lips, teeth and tongue began to draw her blood to the surface 
as his cock pounded away. 

Then having waited so long to fulfill his dreams his teeth bit down as his 
come splattered her pulsating tunnel. With the last of his seed's release he 
crashed upon her and smothered himself in her massive mounds. 

Somewhere in the distance he heard moans of pleasure coming from someone 
else. 

When reality returned, and still hearing the other moans, he turned to seek 
out the source and saw his other slave for a week who was tied to the desk. 

Using Caroline's tit as a pillow he really, for the first time, looked at 
the other girl. 

Her wide spread legs were trembling with desire. Her pudgy hands were 
twisting and pulling her massive nipples and her face was flushed with 
heated desire. Then turning his head slightly as he remembered that there 
was a cock handled whip up her ass, he looked to see if he could see it. And 
see it he did. 

The strand of leather that hung from the handle deep within her ass was 
twisting back and forth across the floor between her legs. And if he was any 
judge of such actions she was coming from observing and her own hands on her 
tits. 

And he was an excellent judge for that was exactly what Becky was doing, and 
that thought caused his cock to start unfurling in Caroline's swamped 
snatch. 

Gathering his strength he withdrew from her body and approached the girl at 
the desk. 

"Did you use your hands on your cunt to come, pretty lady?" He asked her as 
he used a hand to caress some of her hair out of her flushed face and 
awaited her reply. 

Jason smiled when she shook her head in the negative and presented her hands 
for him to smell. The lack of female juice smell on her hands peeved that 
she had responded truthfully. There was no scent of her juices on her hands. 

"Are you one of those one in a thousand that can come from breast 
stimulation alone?" He wasn't all that surprised when she nodded her head 
confirming his statement. He smiled and placed her hands back on her tits. 

"Come for me again, pretty lady. Come by pleasuring your magnificent breasts 
for me. Let me see how you please yourself. Show me what you like." 

And Becky did just that. Her strong fingers and hands moved around her 
breasts. She pulled them, tweaked them, dug her long nails into them as her 
eyes never left his as he watched her. Then only as she again climaxed did 
her eyes close. 

Caught up in her own pleasures she hardly noticed him spreading her cunt 
lips to watch her twitching clit bob up and down as her fingers dug in and 
held on as her tremors began to fade. 

When she again opened her eyes she was met with the sight of his renewed 
shaft pointing at her quivering tits. 

Raising her eyes even more she saw the satisfied smile on his face. 

"You treated them roughly, pretty lady. Is that what you like?" 

Becky nodded her head as she again sank her fingers into her heated flesh. 

"And what about the rest of your magnificent body, does it like to be 
treated just a harshly?" 

Again she nodded and again he smiled. 

Reaching around her head Jason removed the gag from her mouth. "What is your 
name, pretty lady?" 

Bringing moist tongue to parched, dry lips, she answered, "Becky Moss, 
Master. Rebecca Lynn Moss." 

"Rebecca Lynn Moss you have eyes like emeralds, breasts like billowing 
clouds and a body that is driving me wild. I must have you. May I have your 
body to do with as I want?" 

"Yes, Master. I give my body to you freely to do with as you want." 

"And if I want to whip it would you object?" 

"No, sir." 

"What if I wanted to drive needle after needle into you?" 

"I would thank you with each one, Master." 

"What if I wanted to whip your naked body through the marketplace of the 
castle?" 

"I would count myself blessed, sir." 

"Have you no shame, Becky?" 

"None, sir. I would tie myself to a float at a Fourth of July parade, hand 
you a whip and beg you to beat me the entire distance if it would please 
you, sir." 

"And it just might please me. But for now I want you to stand there, keep 
your hands at your side, while I use the whip that is in your ass to beat 
your come inducing breasts. Can you do that, Becky? Can you stand there 
unrestrained and let me whip your breasts?" 

"I ... I hope so, sir." 

"We shall see." 

Thus saying Jason Weatherbee knelt and untied her ankles from the desk, 
turned her around, led her to the middle of the room, and removed the 
cock-handled whip from her ass. 

Becky moaned in pleasure when ten inches of the handle was jerked free but 
otherwise remained standing with her hands at her side. 

"Shake your breasts for me, Becky. Wake up my target." 

He brought the whip behind him and watched her do as asked. While they were 
still quivering back and forth he snapped his arm forward and drove the 
black leather deep in her breasts. 

She didn't scream. 

He did it again and saw her curl her fingers around her ass cheeks to hold 
her hands in place as a moan escaped her opened mouth. Three quick blows 
landed on her stripped mountains, a gasping grunt was released from deep in 
her throat, her knees bent a second before she again locked them straight 
and her tongue came out to lick her red lips. 

"Aaaagggggg," came spiraling out of her when the seventh blow landed 
directly across her left nipple. Her fingernails were beginning to cut into 
her ass cheeks as she used them to keep her hands out of the way. 

"Shake them for me, Becky. Make them beg me to hit them." 

Becky took a deep breath, turned her shoulder to the right then quickly back 
to the left. Her hands hung on for dear life in her ass as her upper body 
twisted back and forth as with each turn of her torso the whip landed on her 
swirling breasts. 

When the fourteenth lash stroke landed directly on both swinging nipples 
Becky finally screamed and came. Her legs collapsed beneath her, her nails 
drew blood from her ass cheeks and Jason stopped in total awe. 

His fingers eased their grip on the whip handle as he dropped to his knees 
on the floor too. "Place your hands behind your back and lay down, love, and 
I will come to you." 

His words filtered through her brain. 

Becky pulled her fingernails out of herself, brought her hands to her back, 
dropped them behind her, flipped her legs out and as she lowered herself to 
the floor she crossed her hands in the small of her back. 

A second later Jason's full weight was pressed on top of her as his cock 
entered her pulsating slit. Savagely he pounded into her. Becky withheld 
nothing from her responses. Jason had no remaining doubts as to how his new 
slave wished to be treated. 

Roughly. Extremely rough. Just the way he like to treat her, and all of his 
lovers. 

They spent the night together. The three of them. 

The following day I was required to attend to a matter in the marketplace of 
the castle and I saw for myself what transpired between the physically 
opposite couple. 

Becky was dressed as a scullery, maid. The pleated white bib of her dress 
was stretched to the limit as it tried to cover her massive tits and as Mr. 
Weatherbee led her through the marketplace by a leash attached to her neck. 

I paused to see what they would do. I had read his request and was curious 
to see if he would be doing what he had written. 

Becky carried a woven basket in each hand as she followed him down the lane 
that contained the fresh produce. Sure enough he stopped at the carpenter 
shed before continuing on. 

I chose a place near the entrance to watch. 

"My I help you, sir," asked the carpenter as they walked to the workbench 
that stood at the front of his stall. 

"Yes. I require a five foot length of wood that is approximately two by two 
inches in width. Do you have something in those dimensions?" 

"I believe so. Let me check. I'll be right back." 

The village carpenter turned to his supplies and a few minutes later he 
returned with the requested piece of wood. "Is this what you had in mind, 
sir?" 

"Yes. Yes, that will do nicely." 

"Will that be all?" 

"No. I will also need two of the longest, fattest nails you have that will 
not split the wood." 

"Yes, sir." 

The carpenter made a quick search of the bins that held his supply of nails 
and extracted two from a far bin. "I think these are the largest that won't 
split the wood. And will that be all?" 

"That is all I need to purchase, but if I might have use of your workbench 
and some blocks of wood, I'd be most appreciative." 

Mr. Weatherbee dropped a $100 token on top of said workbench. 

The carpenter smiled, pocketed the token and you could literally hear the 
whispers spread through the marketplace. After all this was Chattel Castle 
and many began to guess what was to happen. 

And as the carpenter set two huge blocks of wood atop the bench a crowd was 
beginning to form around his stall. 

Mr. Weatherbee placed the five foot long piece of wood on top of the two 
blocks that were on the workbench. He smiled when he noted that they were at 
the correct height. 

"Remove your breasts, my dear, and place them correctly." 

I watched with the others as Becky pulled her massive breasts from her 
dress, curling the material beneath them and walked toward the carpenter's 
workbench. Taking a tit in each hand she placed them on top of the five foot 
length of wood and centered them. 

When she was done her huge reddish-brown nipples hung over the edge of the 
wood and rested on top of the blocks, an equal amount of wood was on each 
side of her nipples. Her hands were shaking and her face was covered with 
sweat. 

"Now place your hands behind your back, Becky, and I will tie them where 
they will be out of the way." 

"Yes, Master." Becky crossed her hands behind her and in a matter a seconds 
they were tied by Mr. Weatherbee. 

She took a deep shuttering breath and licked a drop of sweat from her upper 
lip as Mr. Weatherbee asked the carpenter if he might have use of his 
hammer. 

The carpenter's stall was circled with bystanders as Mr. Weatherbee asked 
Becky, "Are you still prepared to carry my purchases, my dear?" 

Becky's unsteady voice answered, "Yes, sir." as my envious cunt began to 
drool. 

"Then we may proceed." 

Jason Weatherbee picked up one of the nails that he had bought and placed it 
just above the darkened area of her left tit. Not satisfied with the exact 
placement of her nipple he rearranged it. When he was done all of the dark 
skin was hanging over the two by two, five foot length of wood and her 
hardened nipple lay on the block. 

Again he placed the four inch long nail just above her nipple and held the 
hammer in his other hand. "This is your wish?" 

"It ... ah is my wish, Master." 

Satisfied with her response Jason pressed the ball of his hand into her tit 
as his thumb and first finger held the nail just above her nipple and 
pressed the end of the nail into her. 

A collective gasp was heard from the surrounding spectators as he raised the 
hammer. 

Then total silence. Not even a bird chirped as the hammer began its descent. 

Metal striking metal filled the air as hammer connected with the flared end 
of the nail and sank into Becky's breast. 

Her scream filled the marketplace as other gasping sounds surrounded her. 

Becky's knees unlocked and her legs trembled as the hammer descended for the 
second time as nail penetrated wood. 

Several screams filled the air. 

I knew others were being tormented by masters or mistresses in the 
surrounding crowd but I never moved my eyes from Becky's pierced breast. 

The hammer landed again, driving the nail into the block of wood atop the 
workbench as more screams filled the air, Becky's being the loudest. 

Content that the nail was firmly attached, Jason walked around Becky's 
shaking form, in passing he caressed her cheek. 

Standing to her right he moved her right breast into place and the process 
was repeated. Again three blows were needed to drive the nail into the block 
as more screams filled the marketplace that surrounded the carpenter's 
stall. 

Becky was very efficiently nailed to the length of wood and to the blocks 
that it rested on. 

But Jason did not require the blocks so all watched as he used a crowbar to 
pull the nails out of the blocks. As the nails struggled to remain in the 
blocks they were further pulled through Becky's breasts until they popped 
free and a tortured Becky finally allowed herself to drop to her knees amid 
the saw dust on the ground. 

All gathered looked on with awe as she knelt on the ground. 

Two four inch nails could be seen-metal, breasts, wood, then metal 
again-shaking with each breath that Becky took and many were surprised at 
the small amount of blood that was evident. 

Becky made not a sound as her hair whipped back and forth around her head 
and tears glistened her chubby cheeks. 

A loud thunk was heard and many looked as Mr. Weatherbee dropped the hammer 
on the workbench. 

A moment later he stepped in front of Becky's kneeling form, lowered his 
zipper, removed his swollen cock and placed his legs outside of Becky's and 
brushed her hair from her sweat and tear coated face. 

"Pleasure me Becky then we will continue with our shopping." 

Becky blinked her eyes, trying to clear her vision. 

Finally seeing what was before her, she said, "Yes, Master," brought her 
mouth to his straining cock and began to worship it as she knelt on the 
ground. 

Loving the crown of his long shaft Becky covered it with her saliva and took 
it into her mouth. As inch by inch it entered her Jason began to shuffle his 
feet toward his kneeling slave. When the last of him was within her slavish 
mouth his legs began to push the wood nailed to her breasts into her 
billowing tits. 

A gurgling moan came from around his cock as he pushed the wood deeper and 
deeper into her breasts as she laved his twitching cock with love. 

Her huge pierced breasts quivered as her head went up and down on his shaft 
and his legs pressed the wood into her more and more as he hips slammed back 
and forth with the age old motions of man striving for sexual release. 

I couldn't take my eyes off the couple in the carpenter's stall but I did 
hear evidence that Becky and Mr. Weatherbee were not the only ones seeking 
the same goal. 

Becky ignored the obvious pain in her pierced tits as she very efficiently 
brought her Master to climax. 

I knew the moment that his jets of cream began to feed her slaving mouth and 
a moment later it was a blatant fact as he pulled out of her mouth and 
sprayed the remainder on her wet face as other moans filled the air. 

For several minutes I watched those around me and the couple in the 
carpenter stall. 

One man could not be seen as he was under his mistress' dress and all knew 
what he was doing. 

Another female slave was on her knees as she too paid homage to her Master's 
cock in her mouth. 

Yet another couple were doing their own experiments with tits accepting pain 
as he used her nipple rings as handles while making his hands go in ever 
widening circles as she knelt on the ground and wreathed in agony. 

Then again my attentions were brought back to Becky and Mr. Weatherbee. 

He had aided her in rising and as many of us loaded on he placed a weaved 
basket on each end of her wooden "yoke". 

A moment later he took up the leash that was attached to her neck and began 
to lead her down the isle of the marketplace. 

The five foot length of wood made her passage difficult through the bustling 
crowds and occasionally the ends of her "yoke" would be jostled by 
passers-by, some intentionally some not, as Mr. Weatherbee did indeed shop 
for fresh produce. 

At the fruit stand he placed several apples in one basket that was supported 
by Becky's breasts and even from my distance I could hear her painful moan. 

The apples were followed by several oranges placed in the other basket. And 
on and on they progressed. 

I was informed later that Becky's breast yoke took a total of five apples, 
four oranges, a bunch of grapes, two cucumbers, four carrots, a head of 
lettuce, two cantaloupes, a pound of string beans, four kiwi, and a half of 
watermelon. 

Twice she had fallen to her knees in pain and climax, but both times she 
again rose to follow her Master. 

Their collected food was taken to the kitchens and prepared for their lunch. 

Two days later I was informed that they wished to marry. And as this was not 
a real unusual occurrence at Chattel Castle they were married that every 
evening in one of the dungeons. 

It was my pleasure to act as Becky's Matron of Honor. The following day they 
flew to Mr. Weatherbee's home in Texas. 

Caroline agreed to stay on at the castle. She agreed to work in the kitchens 
when not otherwise engaged. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

I had not received my bi-weekly beatings for two weeks and was beginning to 
wonder if my Master was beginning to tire of me, but such was not the case. 

My Master informed me that I was to be used as one of the common slaves. 
This had happened twice before since opening the castle so it came as no 
surprise. 

I was more than willing to submit to being a common slave as I knew my 
Master enjoyed lending me out to others. 

I also knew that what I was to receive would indeed be very painful for I 
was only used when others could not be found. 

On a cold, windy, rainy day in late September my Master removed my gold 
ribbon and replaced it with a red ribbon with a white star and two slender 
bands of purple (the purple showed that I was of the ruling family, a very 
expensive piece of merchandise). 

I knew that this day I would serve others to please my Master. And perhaps 
if I was lucky my Master would join in too. 

Ordered to dress, I donned the clothes that my Master had laid out for me-a 
dark green silk dress with semiprecious stones sown in the white lace that 
trimmed the bodice, a tightly laced corset that pushed my creamy tits up so 
much that they threatened to spill over the edges, silk stockings, garter, 
five full, lacy under slips and satin slippers. 

A hairdresser came in and arranged my hair atop my head with long slender 
curls escaping to frame my face. When she was finished my Master placed a 
diamond and emerald necklace around my neck, the largest emerald resting 
between my pushed up breasts and matching earrings in my ears. 

There was no doubt that I was to be a very high ranking lady-I began to 
wonder what was to happen to me. 

My Master, dressed in similar lavish style, led me to one of the main 
reception rooms of the castle. 

Upon entering it was obvious to see that a ball was in progress as musicians 
played and other lavishly dress couples danced around the mirror lined room. 

We had staged many of these balls in the past as it seemed to be a favorite 
of our customers and when my Master lead me to the dance floor I thought 
nothing of it. 

As we danced to a lilting waltz he explained to me what was to happen. 

"Do you remember the request form from a Mr. Craig Williamson?" 

I did remember it and my blood began to flow faster in my veins as he 
continued. 

"You are to be the Duchess of Seville who is accused of heresy against the 
Holy Roman Church. 

"It has come to the Church's attention that you have aided several 
dissenters in escaping their just do from the Holy Inquisition. Naturally 
you did aid them and naturally you will deny it, and thus you will be taken 
by the Inquisition." 

"Mr. Williamson and his friends have paid $50,000 each to get your 
confession so make sure they get their money's worth. When you can take no 
more you are to say mustard and I will stop the proceedings, but try to 
last." 

"They want it continue for at least two days. Understand?" 

"Yes, Master. It will be as you wish." 

Mr. Williamson had requested that he and two of his friends be allowed to 
torture females in the Spanish Inquisition room. 

I quickly recalled some of the things they wanted to do-whippings, the rack, 
trial by fire, cage imprisonment and piercings. In total they requested two 
slaves along with some minor damage to common slaves and I wondered who the 
others would be as my Master whirled me around the dance floor. 

For two hours we danced and dined in opulent splendor of the privileged. 

Servants catered to our every wish and occasionally we could see couples 
engaging in validations as noblemen would sink hands into plunging necklines 
of willing partners. 

Several women were danced around the floor with both breasts exposed to the 
flickering candle light. One woman was dancing totally nude except for her 
stockings and shoes. 

Our customers really did enjoy these fantasies of former times. 

After over three hours of role playing I began to forget what was to happen 
but suddenly I was reminded as the doors to the ballroom were thrown open 
and the room filled with armor protected soldiers. 

The long metal pikes of the forty soldiers surrounded the room, the guests 
forced to the center of the room and the priests of the Holy Inquisition 
entered. 

Playing his part superbly my Master walked to the priests and demanded to 
know why his ball was being interrupted by the Holy Order. 

A small man dressed in the black robes of the Inquisition stepped forward 
and began to read the proclamation. 

"Be it known that the Holy Roman Church and the most reverend Inquisition 
charges the Duchess of Seville and her handmaid, Kimberly, with aiding at 
least five dissidents to escape the tribunal of the Holy Inquisition." 

"It has been decreed that they submit themselves to the justice of the 
Inquisition." 

"That is ridicules. The Duchess of Seville is my wife and her handmaid has 
been our servant for over five years." My Master enjoyed playing his role. 

"Step aside your grace unless you wish to follow you wife and handmaid to 
our justice." 

"I most assuredly will accompany them. And if, as you say, they have aided 
dissenters I myself will willingly see them punished for their crimes." 

"I will not have my name shamed by false accusations, if they should be 
found innocent, nor by their actions if found guilty. I demand attendance." 

"As you wish, your grace. If you would be so kind as to inform us which of 
the two ladies we are to take into custody, we may begin." 

A few minutes later Kim, the nanny to Chattel Castle who had joined me 
before in the Spanish Inquisition torture chambers, and I were being 
forcefully drug down to the third level dungeons where the Spanish 
Inquisition room was located. 

Each of us were escorted by a pike carrying soldier as we fought every step 
of the way (after all we had a part to play). We caused quite a sensation as 
we made our way to the dungeons and many followed in our wake to see our 
fates. 

By the time we arrived in the Spanish Inquisition room we were practically 
naked as our struggles had forced our guards to be quite harsh. 

The beautiful, black Kim only had the remains of a tattered chemise covering 
her and I wasn't much more covered as I had only the tightly laced corset, 
stockings and a few remaining shreds of green silk covering my flushed 
flesh. My jewels were safely hidden by one of my guards. 

Upon entering the Inquisition room we were hit by the intense heat of the 
burning braziers and the stares of the three black robed priests that 
awaited us. And as we were drug to stand in front of the priests, spectators 
began to file into the chamber and take the benches that lined the walls. 

One of the priests stepped in front of me and began to speak. 

"Do you, Christine Seville, Duchess of Seville of mighty Spain, admit or 
deny that you and your maid, Kimberly Degus, aided heretics to escape the 
justice of this high tribunal?" 

"I deny any and all accusations. I know of no heretics. I offered no aid to 
anyone. I demand to be released this instance." 

The guard on either side of me dug their hands deeper into my arms and 
pulled my hands behind my back as the black robed priest slapped my face 
three times. "You lie, lady. Bring the prisoners forward." Three common 
female slaves were brought forward, each showing evidence of some punishment 
on their bodies, and confessed that I and my maid had helped them to escape 
the priests of the Inquisition by hiding them in my cellar until they could 
be taken away. 

"What say you now, Lady Seville?" 

"I say they are lying. I have never seen these women before in my life. And 
I demand, again, that you release me instantly." 

That comment was answered as my guards forced me to my knees and the priest 
again slapped my face. 

"Lying heretic. We have their confessions and we will have yours too. Take 
her to the rack." 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw my Master smile as I was drug across the 
stone floor and hulled up to stand beside the rack. 

I fought my guards as much as I could to no avail. My wrists were soon 
attached to the leather cuffs above my head. 

As they were trying to ties my ankles to the other cuffs I managed to kick 
one of my guards in the stomach. 

He retaliated by slamming his fist into my stomach and as I tried to catch 
my breath from his blow my ankles were firmly encased in the leather ankle 
cuffs, my remaining clothes cut off me. 

When they stepped back I was effectively bound, stretched out in an X as 
chills covered my naked body. 

Meanwhile the priests were questioning Kim and that cheeky black beauty was 
having one hell of a time as she cursed a blue streak at the black robed 
priests and called them every know word of repulsions. 

She denied helping the heretics, she denied being my handmaid and she denied 
the priests authority over her. 

Needless to say, none of which did her any good. Because of her ebony skin 
she was stripped of her remaining clothing and Inspected for signs of the 
devil, and when a small mole on her left breast was discovered it was 
determined that it was a mark of her serving the devil. 

The hissing black entrancetress was soon chained to the stone wall as each 
priests thoroughly inspected her devil sign. 

As one priest squeezed her tit a stream of pure white milk was forced from 
her nipple. 

"She not only serves the devil but feeds his offspring's too," came from one 
of the priests as I watched his cock raise the front of his robe. 

"Remove the devil's drink from the bitch," the high priest said and I 
assumed him to be Mr. Williamson. 

The other two then must be Mr. Herin's and Mr. Straitfield. 

A cart was pulled to stand in front of Kim and shortly thereafter two huge 
stone with a wheel on top and bisecting the stones was placed on top of the 
cart. 

Kim and I both knew how the breast press operated as it had been used on us 
many times before and I knew of Kim's love of tit torture. My own cunt gave 
a pleasant twitch as Kim licked her lips in anticipation. 

Kim screamed out her defiance as her tits were placed between the upper and 
lower stones. 

Slowly one priest began to turn the wheel and the two stone came closer 
together, Kim's tits trapped between. 

She called them bastards, scum of the earth, lecherous horny half-men as the 
wheel was turned more and more. 

As the stones came closer and closer together her mother's milk began to 
flow. At first a dribble, then a steady stream of pure white milk exited her 
ebony breasts that were getting flatter and flatter by the moment. 

Each drop was collected in a silver tray that was attached to the front side 
of the breast press and we knew that later it would be sold to some of the 
spectators at an over inflated price which they would willingly pay. After 
all, how often does one get to drink mother's milk that has been pressed 
from tortured tits? 

Kim's full tits were compressed to no less than two inches next to her 
chest. 

I knew she was in extreme agony and loving every second of it. When she had 
joined us at Chattel Castle as Nanny for the residing children she had 
demanded occasional tit torture. And she was getting it as the stones 
pressed together more and more until her screams filled the room and the 
last drop of milk hung from .her hardened nipple. 

"Confess to your crimes against the church, bitch. Confess and you will be 
freed." 

"Go ... toooo hellll ... you bloody ... bastarrddd." 

"Turn it again." 

"Aaaaaaahhhhhheeeeeeeeee ... go ... tooooo hellll." 

"Do you confess, bitch?" 

"Nnnooooooo ... you bastarrrrddd." 

"Remove the cart." 

Two of the priests pulled the cart from under the breast press and the two 
stones were supported by Kim's swollen, squeezed dry tits. 

When the cart was jerked away the bottom stone crashed into her ribs and 
that along with the weight of the stones hanging from her breasts made Kim 
scream like I had never heard her scream before. 

"Aaaaaaaahhheeeeeowwwww ... oooohhhh sweet Jesus." 

"That's right, bitch. Pray to our sweet Lord for your salvation. Do you 
confess to aiding the admitted heretics?" 

"Nnnnnooooooo ... you bastarrrrddd." 

"Let her think about her sins for a while. It's time to question the 
Duchess." 

Thus they left Kim chained to the wall, the stone breast press hanging from 
her smashed tits and came to me. 

"Lady Seville do you confess to aiding the heretics?" 

"I confess to nothing. I did nothing against the Mother Church and I demand 
that you release me." 

I was still chained to the rack but otherwise quite comfortable. My hands 
were beginning to get cool as they lacked blood from being over my head and 
my feet still rested on the stone floor. 

The massive wooden rack that was shaped like a V on its side had yet to be 
extended by the huge screw that resided near the point of the V. The two 
ends of the V had wide forks that held my arms and legs wide apart, but as 
yet they were not pulled apart by the screw at the juncture of the V. 

All of my body was totally available as I stood at the ends of the rack. 

"Father Michael would you be so kind as to turn the screw?" 

One of the black robed priest walked behind me and a moment later I heard 
the ominous creaking of wood on wood as Father Michael began to turn the 
screw. 

Slowly my wide spread arms began to rise toward the ceiling and with each 
turn of the screw the priests asked me to confess and I denied to do so. 

The upper forks of the V began to raise me off the floor. 

My shoulders took up my weight and my hands became numb from lack of blood. 

The priests continued to ask for my confession and I continued to assert my 
innocence. 

The upper forks of the rack kept pulling me further and further toward the 
ceiling and the bands around my ankles began to pull me toward the floor. 

I was beginning to be stretched by the rack as the priests droned on and on. 

I felt my muscles and bones starting to protest but all I was really 
conscious of was my drooling cunt that was in danger of climaxing as the 
pain filled my strung out body. 

I had been trained to come when pain was inflicted upon me and what they 
were doing to me was making it happen as I screamed out in pain and 
pleasure. 

As I gloried in my pleasures I heard the head priest ask for a whip. I 
opened my eyes. 

Father Michael turned the screw another revolution and the head priest 
brought his whip forward to land on my milk filled breasts. 

I screamed. I came. 

Milk began to seep out of my whipped nipples. 

"Another that feeds the devil's spawn," came from the head priest as he 
landed the whip on my dripping nipples again. 

My left shoulder gave a pop as it threatened to come out of the socket. 

Father Michael turned the screw again and the head priest landed the whip 
again as the third priest knelt between my wide spread legs, saying "We must 
check for the devil's cream here too." 

The priest between my legs did nothing priestly to my eager cunt. He dove in 
like a man possessed. Lips, tongue and teeth were well versed in taking 
pleasures from a woman's cunt and I gave him what he wanted. 

I flooded his mouth with my devil's cream as I came over and over as the 
rack was screwed further and further apart and as the whip landed again and 
again on my pain loving tits as the milk became a steady stream. 

I felt my right shoulder give a pop as the rack pulled me some more. Fearing 
that my joints would be pulled apart, against my Master's wishes, I 
screamed, "Mustardddddddddd" and I felt no more pulling. 

None but my Master knew our code word so I knew that he had stopped Father 
Michael from turning the screw. Knowing that he was observing me gave me 
untold thrills. 

I needed to please him. The others were instruments that he used, but it was 
my Master that I obeyed. I had to last at least two days to please him. 

I felt the whip land again and again against my breasts. 

I felt the man drink of my juices between my legs. 

I wondered what Father Michael would now do that he wasn't turning the 
screw. 

Then my world changed. 

My breasts were no longer being whipped and I felt a very large cock enter 
my seeping cunt and a moment later one entered my willing ass. 

I hung there stretched by the rack as two priests made use of my body. 

I came over and over again as the head priest fucked my cunt and drank my 
devil's milk from my whipped breasts and the other priest's cock checked out 
my asshole for other signs of the devil. 

Opening my tear filled eyes I saw Father Michael remove the breast press 
from Kim's tits and sink his took of the church up her cunt to their mutual 
satisfaction. 

When the priests had finished their churchly duties Kim and I were again 
questioned. 

We both still refused to sign confessions and were rearranged for further 
interrogations. 

I was chained, my back to the stone wall, my feet didn't touch the floor. 
There were two wooden boards behind me, one pressed into my shoulder blades 
the other pressed into the fleshy part of my ass. 

My cunt gave a twitch of delight because I knew the purpose of those wooden 
boards. 

Again I was asked to sign a confession, again I refused. 

Kim was taken over to the whipping post. It was ten foot high and eight 
inches square. Her back was to the pole and her hands manacled above her 
head as she stood on her tiptoes. Other manacles were attached to her ankles 
and a moment later her feet were pulled behind the pole and secured. 

She hung by her wrists. She gave a groan of pleasure when she refused to 
sign a confession. 

The priests had discarded their robes and sweat could be seen on their flesh 
in the stifling hot chamber as they approached the bound Kim. 

Slipping from their roles they gave scant attention to obtaining her 
confession as they approached her and fondled her tits. Each man had an 
eight inch needle in his hand. 

The first man grabbed her left nipple and pulled it away from her body as he 
poised the needle at the top of her tit. 

"Confession is good for the soul." He touched the needle to her tit. 

"I agree. I confess that I'm hornier than hell, you damned bastard. So what 
are you going to do about it?" 

She licked her lips as she stared at the needle. 

She shook her body, making her tit sway in his hand then looked him straight 
in the eye. "You gonna pierce my devil tits, bastard? You think that God 
doesn't know you're horny too just thinking about my magnificent black 
tits?" 

"May the Lord protect us from sinners like you." 

He pulled her nipple further away from her and jammed the needle through the 
fullest part of her tit. 

Kim screamed and her hips jerked forward in her climax as he worked the 
needle back and forth in her tit, the pointed end jabbing her chest wall 
beneath her full pierced tit. 

"Did you help the heretics?" 

"Nnnnoooooooooo you bastarrrrddd." 

"Very well. Father James." 

He stepped back and the other man came forward, his needle held in ready. 

"Confess, woman." He pressed his needle to the top of her right tit as he 
captured her nipple in his other hand. 

"I confess ... that you have one damned fine hard on. Do you confess that 
you want to fuck this black devil's maid?" 

We all saw his cock give a jerk at her words. He licked his own lips as he 
drove the needle through her tit and as her scream filled the stone room a 
drop of precome glistened on the tip of his cock. 

He stepped away and the head priest came to her. 

He had his needle in one hand and a pair of pliers in the other. His shaft 
was leaking fluids too. 

"Do you confess to the all mighty God that you have sinned against his 
church?" 

"Yes. I confess that I have fucked men that weren't my husband. Including 
you, you damned bastard, if your swollen cock is any indication. Do you want 
to fuck me too, you bastard of the church? Can't you just feel your slimy 
cock sinking into my devil's cave? 

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeee." 

Kim's scream echoed around the room as the head priest drove the needle 
through the side of her left tit, pushing it way in. 

Then using the pliers he pulled it through some more and started to press it 
into her right tit. 

Kim screamed and even from my distance I could see her clit jerking up and 
down as he pinned her breasts together. When he stood back all could see 
that there was a needle in each of her breasts and one that connected them 
together as she sagged against the whipping post and her clit twitched up 
and down in her multiple climaxes. 

"Do you confess?" 

"Iiieee confesssss thattt I'mmmm hornier than hell, you damned bastards of 
the church." 

The head priest turned to his assistants, and said, "Heat the next needles 
that pierce her. She will confess." 

Each of the priests held their needles in a pair of pliers so they wouldn't 
get burnt themselves as they held them in the flames of a brazier. 

Then one at a time they drove the red hot needles into Kim's tits. 

Her screams and the smell of burnt flesh filled the chamber, along with the 
scent of aroused woman. 

Three, then six red hot needles were buried in her quivering breasts and 
still she refused to confess to anything but her horniness and theirs. 

Three more red hot needles were driven through her tits and they began to 
look like a very full pincushion. Then as each of them did it again they 
each fucked her to everyone's mutual delight. 

When they were ready to come to me again Kim had fifteen needles piercing 
her tits and had come at least four times that I was aware of. 

"And what of you, my lady? Are you ready to confess yet? Or do we continue 
with our interrogations?" 

By that time I was ready to confess to anything they wanted me to confess to 
if they would only make my body sing with the pain that I loved. 

But to make it sing I couldn't confess to the charges of aiding and heresy. 

"I confess that I am envious of my maid, but not to the charges that you 
accuse me of. I did nothing against the church." 

"So be it. When you are ready to confess just tell us and we will stop." 

He turned to his assistants and said, "Let us begin. Father Michael you may 
have the upper crank and Father James you can turn the lower one." 

I knew what his words meant but many of the bystanders that still watched 
didn't. 

I searched their faces to see if any of them knew but when I saw my Master's 
face smiling at me I smiled back and watched him as the priests began to 
turn the cranks that were attached to the boards behind me. 

As they turned the cranks my body was forced away from the wall. Turn after 
turn my tits were pushed forward by the board behind my shoulder blades and 
my cunt was forced forward by the board behind my hips. 

As they cranked and cranked me away from the wall I could hear the others in 
the room murmur as they began to understand that I was attached to a 
different kind of stretching rack. 

I felt some small bones in my back crack as my body arched away from the 
stone wall. 

My head fell back as my tits and cunt reached for the center of the room. My 
arms and legs again began to pull at my joints. 

My nipples were hardened nubs and my nipple rings stood out at the ends of 
my tits. The ring in my clit was sticking straight out too as my arousal 
climbed and the rings in my cunt lips flapped in the air as my legs slowly 
slide behind me as my hips were thrust forward in lude invitation. 

My body was in a U shape. My hands and feet back, my torso forward as my 
head hung and my long hair waved above the stone floor. 

More bones cracked in my back and my joints complained of harsh treatment 
and when I felt a tendon start to snap I again screamed out "Mustardddd" and 
the cranking stopped. 

I was breathing in short gasping gulps. 

Tears were streaming to the sides of my face. I felt like a bow ready to 
release an arrow for an incredible distance. 

"Confess, lady, or your devil rings will be pulled to the tearing point. We 
can see your servitude to the devil. You wear five of his rings. Confess or 
those rings of the devil will be put to use serving our gracious Lord. 
Confess!" 

"I ammm ... not a heretic ... I helped no hereticss ... I serve only the 
trueeeee Lord." 

I had been attached to this device before but on those occasions I had been 
whipped, never had I had my rings pulled in that position and I eagerly 
awaited to see what it felt like. I didn't have long to wait. 

I felt what I assumed to be slender ropes being attached to my five rings 
and as I struggled to bring my head forward to verify that I saw my Master. 

I saw his avid attention riveted to my bound body so I looked. 

My rings were not being attached to slender ropes but to copper wires that 
sparkled in the lights of the room. Wire couldn't be stretched like rope. 
Was that their sole purpose, or was I to be given electrical shocks too? 

I had been tortured with electricity before but never in the Spanish 
Inquisition room. My Master always adhered to the timetable of that room and 
electricity wasn't invented by that time period. 

Would these priest of the Inquisition use electricity? Or did they use the 
wire for other reasons? 

I didn't know, but I knew that I and the others would soon find out. 

My eyes flashed to Kim. 

She was contentedly still bound to the whipping post, the needles were still 
embedded in her tits and the combined come of the three priests was dripping 
out of her snatch. 

But soon I concentrated on myself alone as I felt my rings being pulled away 
from my body. 

I groaned as my nipples grew another two inches. 

I screamed when my clit did the same. 

Then I felt my cunt lips being pulled toward the floor and I screamed again. 

I couldn't breathe well with my head back so I tried to bring it forward and 
just as I did all five rings were pulled at the same time and my screams 
reverberated and bounced off the stone wall of the chamber. 

"Confess!" 

"Nnnoooooooooooo." 

I felt the tension ease against my rings and I relaxed as much as I could. 

But when I heard a collective gasp from the bystanders I again tried to 
raise my head to look. 

The head priest was walking toward me. 

His hands were in heavy gloves that protected them from the cast iron 
brazier that he carried in his hands. The brazier was one of the smaller 
round ones. It had three hooks around its upper edges, equally spaced, to it 
could hang and not spill its contents. 

The brazier was filled with red hot coals. He walked between wide spread 
legs and I began to understand. 

My cunt and clit gave twitches of delight as I awaited for the wires to be 
attached to the hooks in the brazier. 

I felt the heat of the coals sink into my cunt and inner legs as the head 
priest held the brazier in place as his assistants attached the wires that 
were hanging from my cunt lips and clit to the hooks. 

I felt the wires slide through the hooks and the brazier came closer to my 
opened cunt. I felt the wires being secured. The two assistants stood back 
and the head priest began to withdraw his support of the brazier. 

I screamed. My God did I ever scream as he withdrew his hands from the 
brazier and my three rings took charge of holding the weight of the case 
iron brazier filled with red hot coals. 

My clit and cunt lips reached for the floor as the heat of the coals- began 
to roast them ever hotter and hotter as the brazier hung suspend from my 
rings. 

I heard a sizzling sound and realized that a drop of my cunt juices had 
plopped onto the hot coals. 

Now I knew why wire was used, rope would have burnt from the intense heat. 

I screamed and screamed some more. 

I began a frantic search of my Master. I finally found him standing just to 
the left of my body. And just as I was ready to scream "Mustard" I saw his 
expression. 

He was bent forward inspecting my clit, cunt rings and the heated brazier. 
His eyes twinkled. And his fully engorged cock was outside his pants. He was 
aroused by my suffering and I knew that it took a lot to make that 
magnificent cock rise to its full stature. 

I was pleasing him. He was enjoying my suffering and I couldn't fail him. 

I swallowed the word I was about to scream out and let the pain sink into 
me. 

I wallowed in my pain. 

I felt my clit stretching more and more. 

My cunt lips felt like they were two feet long and the heat of the coals was 
sending waves of heat up my stretched opening, roasting my central core with 
pain. 

The brazier was beginning to heat up the wires attached to my rings and they 
too began to heat up. 

As I was allowing myself to float with my pains I became aware that 
something was being done to my tits as well. 

The wires attached to my nipple rings had been wrapped around a wooden arch 
that stood in front of me. The arch was wide and didn't interfere with 
anybody coming close to me. 

One of the priest had climbed a ladder and he was in the final stages of 
securing my wires to the top of the arch. As I felt the pull of my three 
lower rings, he pulled my nipples toward the top of the arch and tied them 
off. 

The top of the arch was about a foot above my straining nipples. He bent 
down and when next I saw his hands, he was holding two very fat candles that 
were aflame. 

My blurry eyes watched as he laid the candles on their sides at the ends of 
the wires attached to my rings. 

Even in my pain filled state I wondered about the significance of the 
candles and then I understood as I saw the heated wax follow the path of the 
wires toward my pulled nipples. 

Slowly the wax traveled the wires until it reached my nipples. The heat of 
the wax settled around my tormented nipples and sank in with a vengeance. 

Somewhere in my pain filled brain my ears registered the words, "Do you 
confess?" but I paid the words scant attention. 

The wax began to build up on my nipples and spread over my tits. 

My clit felt like it was ready to leave my body as it strained toward the 
heated brazier. 

My cunt lips felt like they grew another foot toward the floor. A steady 
plop of my juices landed on the hot coals with a sizzle. 

Then I felt a hand touch my left hip and I turned my head to see who it was. 

It was my Master. 

I came like never before as his hand caressed my hip and my fluids cooled 
the heated coals hanging beneath my roasted cunt. 

I was in a world of my own. Vaguely I could hear the others in the room as 
they too strove for completion but all I was truly aware of was my Master's 
hand caressing my hip as I came over and over again and again. 

Finally my world went from swirling lights to the deepest darkness I had 
ever known. 

When I came to, I realized that I was still in the Inquisition room. 

My body was curled up in one of the opened metal cages. I had been forced 
into a crouching position, my knees were widely spread and tied, digging 
into the metal bars at the bottom of the cage. There was a gag in my mouth 
and my breasts were encased in rope, cutting them off from my chest as they 
hung lower than my knees. Bars pressed into my back but I could tell that no 
metal was around my ass and the only bars below me were the ones that my 
knees pressed into. 

I was in the access cage. 

My ass, cunt, breasts and mouth could be approached by anyone yet I couldn't 
escape the confines of my cage. My cage was suspend in midair and it was 
moving. 

And the reason it was moving was because Kim was hanging from it. 

Her hands were tied to the bars that my legs were tied to and she was being 
whipped by all three priests. 

Clearing my eyes I saw her. The needles were still in her breasts as the 
head priest whipped them. Another priest was whipping her stripped ass as 
the third used a switch on her twisting legs and feet. Then suddenly as if 
miraculously cured I heard her screams. 

Kim must have been under the whips for quite some time as she was covered 
with their marks. But the occasional words that could be understood were 
still words of denial. 

The gutsy bitch was having a, grand time as she twisted below me. All at the 
castle knew she could take literally hours of abuse and even more to her 
pain loving tits. And those tits were getting the pain. The head priest that 
was whipping her pin-filled tits was using a cat that made those needles 
move around like crazy. 

I could smell her scent above my own, and I knew it well for many a times 
have I tasted it. 

Kim's screams were beginning to dwindle when the priests set their 
instruments of torture aside and my cage was lowered until she could stand 
on the floor with her arms lowered to her sides. 

As we were lowered she was placed to the rear of my cage and it stopped its 
descent when her face was in line with my ass. 

"Service your mistress, slut. Wash the devil's shit out of her as we wash 
Satin's from you." 

I turned my head as much as possible and saw the head priest sink his 
swollen shaft up Kim's willing ass as his hands twisted the needles in her 
beaten breasts. 

But soon I had no other thoughts as Kim's very talented tongue began its 
entry into my own willing ass. 

I shivered with her first touch and with the second I came. And so it went. 
Each priest washed away the devil's touch from her ass as she did the same 
to mine as we both came time after time. 

When the last priest took his relief from Kim and she withdrew from me I 
finally looked around. 

There were few spectators left in the chamber and I easily found my Master 
standing near my head. He was smiling. 

Kim was taken to the side of the room and bound over a piece of equipment 
that looked something like a saw-horses. Her needles were removed. When they 
had finished with her, her ass and cunt were abundantly available. 

Then my cage was lowered further until my openings were level with most 
people's crotches. As the priests left the chamber they told all that 
remained our bodies could be used for their own relief. 

The priests would return in five hours to continue our interrogations. 

My Master came to me then and removed the gag from my mouth. 

"Chrissy, my love, you were unsurpassing." 

His hands caressed the hair out of my face as I licked some moisture to my 
parched lips. 

"Did ... I please ... you Master?" 

"You pleased me very much, slave. For six hours you have pleased me with 
your servitude. And now I wish for you to serve my body" 

"Please, Master. Please let me serve your body." 

I could see his magnificent shaft as it pointed toward the ceiling. It was 
everything a slave could ask for-long, vein lined, thick and throbbing. I 
truly worshiped it. 

"How would you like to serve me, slave?" 

"In any way you desire, Master. I am your to command. My body will accept 
you anyway you wish it to." 

"No. You must choose the way, slave. What is it to be?" 

In all the years of our marriage my Master had never shown any preferences 
in relieving himself with me. I so wanted to pick his favorite but he had 
none that I was aware of. 

So I chose the one that made me feel the most slavish-my ass. 

He smiled at my choice as if I had chosen the one he desired. How like my 
Master to make me feel that way. 

A moment later he had walked to the other end of my cage. I felt him grab a 
bar on either side of my hips and pull me towards him. I felt the velvet 
knob of his manroot kiss my eager astrict and I opened myself for my 
Master's love. Pulling my cage back more he sank in me. 

My entire body trembled in need as he filled me to overflowing. And 
shamelessly I came. Over and over again as his masterpiece drilled me. I 
used all within my power to please his cock as it drove in and out of me 
until finally I felt the kiss of his masterful cream soothe my slavish 
needs. 

My escalated screams of pleasure were cut short as my mouth became filled 
with another cock. 

I had not noticed the presence of the man before but when I did I worshiped 
his cock too. 

And that had no more than happened than I was aware of several more coming 
to me. 

Two women drank from my bound tits and as my Master withdrew from my ass he 
was replaced by another cock up my seething cunt. 

Hands were touching me all over. My mouth and cunt were filled. My breasts 
were giving drinks. I was totally consumed with pleasures. 

Across the room Kim wasn't lacking attention either. 

A huge brute of a man was straining over her hips, I didn't know if he was 
in her ass or cunt and somehow I knew that for Kim it made no difference. 

A man and a woman were lying on the floor in front of her nursing her 
breasts with eager mouths as hers was paying homage to a well spread cunt in 
her mouth. 

And so it went for the five hours that the priests rested. All who wanted 
Kim and me had us. Every opening we had was used over and over again and 
again to everyone's very satisfying conclusion. No overt damage was done to 
us, just mild torments that heightened everyone's pleasures. 

Then the priests returned. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

We were in our private suite. 

My Master had just finished whipping me and I was still hanging from the 
rings in the ceiling, his love juices leaking from my happy snatch when 
Nicole knocked on our door. 

Asking who was there and receiving her answer, my Master told her to enter. 

Nicole gave a quick, and envious, look at me before she spoke about her 
reason for coming. 

"I was just taking to a Mr. Jered Kennedy, sir, and I didn't know how to 
answer him." 

"What is the problem, Nicole?" 

"Mr. Kennedy wishes to make reservations for himself and his two slaves, 
sir." 

"So what is the problem?" 

"He wants to rent out his slaves to the castle and partake of our staff 
himself. I told him that we didn't normally use others slaves at the castle 
but he insisted that I ask." 

"According to him both slaves, females and attractive, are totally trained 
and will submit to anything. He even made a point of saying that they will 
submit to tit hangings, multiple piercings, burnings and all other major 
forms of torture." 

"He even said that one of his slaves has submitted to having her tits cut 
through almost to the point of severing and is willing for it to occur 
again. And that comment reminded me of the request of Mr. Adam Hendricks 
that we have been unable to fulfill." 

"Humm, I see your point. Did Mr. Kennedy make mention of financial 
considerations?" 

"Not in so many words, sir. But I got the impression that money was not a 
major consideration. He sounded more interested in finding more inventive 
ways to keep his slaves happy." 

"He said that he was running out of new ways to treat them and wanted to 
come to Chattel Castle for ideas. And his slaves made their wishes know that 
they would welcome attentions of others to please their master and to see if 
they could learn anything new in the process." 

"Sounds interesting. Tell you what, Nicole, why don't you call Mr. Kennedy 
back and see if he has hard copy proof of what his slaves submit to. Photos 
or videos of their treatment and sustaining power". 

"Explain that if we are satisfied with their endeavors we would be willing 
to pay him half of our usual fees for what his slaves submit to, but make a 
special point of including Mr. Hendricks -wishes that we have so far been 
unable to fulfill." 

"Yes, sir." 

As Nicole was turning to leave my Master stopped her as he said, "When you 
have concluded talking with Mr. Kennedy, please return Nicole." 

"Yes, sir." 

"And after that business is out of the way I'll want you to join Chrissy and 
me in a short session, if you are in agreement." 

"Yesss, sir." 

Nicole's eyes sparkled with that sentence as she made her exit. 

All of the female slaves at Chattel Castle begged to be under my Master's 
care and Nicole had been once before and loved every second of it. 

I was sure that her conversation with Mr. Kennedy would be as short as 
possible. 

And I was correct. 

Nicole returned in less than twenty minutes, all of which I had remained 
chained to the rings in the ceiling. Mr. Kennedy said that hard copy proof 
would be sent the following day by express mail. 

That out of the way Nicole and I found ourselves bound together faces to 
dripping cunts as my Master made us totally happy. 

Mr. Jered Kennedy and his two slaves, Amy and Ellen, arrived on the same 
flight that Mr. Adam Hendricks had taken. The four of them rode the limo to 
the castle and as they fell into conversation they realized that they would 
be seeing more of each other. 

Mr. Kennedy had had ample hard copy proof of his slaves willingness to 
submit, including the one episode of Ellen's tits being almost severed, so 
we had few qualms about them joining our staff on a temporary basis. 

After all, we had had a very frustrating time finding someone who would 
submit as Mr. Hendricks had asked. Most of our slaves will submit to many 
things being done to them but none were eager to have their tits literally 
split opened, but Ellen would. And she would with Mr. Hendricks. 

As they had arrived late in the evening they were shown to their suites, 
changed into the historic costumes and donned yellow ribbons of observers. 

I was in charge of their tour of the castle's facilities and got to watch 
their reactions first hand. There was no reasons; be believe that any would 
leave disappointed. 

Five times during die tour they had copulated with each other when they had 
become stimulated and all were eager to participate more fully the following 
morning as their schedules had been planned. 

Mr. Adam Hendricks' first appointment of his stay had him scheduled with my 
cousin Jenny who was still on the lookout for a husband. 

They had been introduced at breakfast in the east dining room and both 
seemed comfortable with each other as they made their way to room nine of 
the second dungeon level for their two hour time slot. 

Adam Hendricks was your basic average looking guy. He stood about five ten, 
had slightly thinning brown hair, brown eyes and was of medium build. And 
naturally being a client of Chattel Castle, he wasn't lacking in financial 
means to support his unusual sexual habits. 

Jenny is five two, with long blond hair, green eyes and has all the right 
kind of curves, full breasts and gently padded hips with a slender waist. 

They looked to be an ideal couple, and except for Mr. Hendricks desire to 
literally cut female flesh, they were well matched in their sexual wants. 

Making their way to room nine Mr. Hendricks calmly asked Jenny to offer up 
her wrists for the bands and she just a calmly did. 

Minutes later she was hanging from the bands as Adam selected a braided whip 
from the wall rack that held a varied assortment. 

He glanced at the gold ribbon, and stated, Twenty-five. Fifteen to breasts 
and ten to back." 

Jenny took a deep breath and to gold ribbon nodded her head. 

Adam was in no hurry to reach the total of twenty-five. 

At times several minutes lapsed before the braided whip landed again and the 
anticipation was driving Jenny wild. By the time she had received four on 
her every loving tits and two on her twitching back Jenny was begging him to 
do it faster. 

"Why? Do you wish it to be over, or for it to continue?" 

"Oohh God, both. I wanttt to feel it all ... not justt this teasing." 

"Am I teasing you, Jenny?" 

"Yesssss." 

"But look what you have to look forward to." 

"But IIII wanttt it nowww. Please, Adam." 

"As you wish, my dear." 

The remaining nineteen landed so swiftly Jenny couldn't even count them as 
her body more than eagerly registered the pain. 

But as her body soaked up the pain she wanted more. She needed more. To 
come. 

"Ppllllleeeassssssssssseee." 

"Please what, Jenny," Adam asked as his eyes devoured her red streaked flesh 
that hung before his eyes. 

"What do you want me to do?" 

"Mmmmoooorrrrree ... pleassse Adam ... morrrre." 

"More what?" 

"Whippp mmmmee morrrre. Pleasssseeeeee." 

Adam gave her more. 

But to her utter frustrations he returned to his slow administrations. 

The braided whip dug into her heaving breasts then he stopped to caress her 
swishing hair. 

Another one to her right tit only, then he gently fondled her left one as 
she twisted and begged him for more. 

But he denied her wishes. 

Dropping the whip to the floor he took each of her knees in his hands and 
walked his cock to her spread cunt. 

"Yeess ... fucck mmee ... fuck me hard and deeppp." 

He heard her but denied her request. 

He sank his bursting cock very slowly into her gasping tunnel until he was 
balls deep then withdrew even slower as Jenny wreathed before him and begged 
him to take her harshly. 

But Adam Hendricks did it his own way. 

Slowly. 

Very slowly as Jenny wrapped her free legs around his waist and tried to 
pull him to her. Her strength was no match for his determination. 

Slowly he pushed in her and slower still he withdrew as Jenny turned into a 
blithering idiot. She begged, she pleaded, she tried to pull him to her, 
tears streamed down her face in frustration, but Adam continued his slow 
steady pace for over twenty minutes. 

Then finally his own needs made him do as she wanted and they soared to 
sexual bliss together. 

When he withdrew and lowered Jenny to the floor he held her in his arms as 
they caressed and calmed each other. 

"You must learn to appreciate the better things in life, Jenny. Learn to 
savor them slowly and to their fullest." 

"If you had been free our time together would have been much less." 

"But I didn't want to wait. I needed it then." 

"But, Jenny, you must realize that men can only come so many times. Women 
are different. Some can come forever. But not the male of the species. So I 
have learned to lengthen my pleasures." 

"Yes, I could have whipped you twenty-five times then fucked you within ten 
minutes, but think of how you felt. You were on the edge of coming for over 
thirty minutes. Thirty blissful minutes instead of one shattering moment 
that passed so swiftly." 

"You must learn to savor life's pleasures to the fullest. Here, I'll show 
you again." 

He took thirty minutes to tie Jenny for the next part. 

Slowly he bound her ankles in restraints. 

Slowly he attached those restraints to rings in the floor. 

He caressed her tense body for ten minutes before he urged her over top of 
the board that would support her hips. 

Then he teased her arms and hands for another five minutes before he bound 
her wrists to rings in the floor and pulled them tight, straining her body. 

When he was done Jenny was bound over the board, her feet and hands tied to 
rings in the floor, her legs, ass and cunt spread wide for his attentions. 

He picked up the cat, caressed her straining whipped back, and said, "Think 
of your pleasures, Jenny. Feel your body craving for release. Savor your 
heightened arousal. Take yourself to the edge of fulfillment and as you hang 
on that edge feel your pleasures." 

"Feel them, but don't allow them to come. Wallow in your striving, for when 
it's over, it's over and there is nothing to look forward to. But if you 
savor the wanting it can last for hours." 

"Savor it Jenny. Savor." 

And savor Jenny did. 

She had no choice in the matter as Adam took forty five minutes to whip her 
ass twenty-five times. 

She was going insane with want. She would feel herself cresting and Adam 
would stop. She cried. 

She begged. She pleaded. And she waited. 

Finally he entered her demanding ass, but he gave her no relief as he slide 
in and out just as slowly as he had her cunt earlier. 

"Savor, Jenny. Anticipate how greattt it will feelll when youuu finally come 
shattering over the precipice." 

And that was precisely what was driving Jenny insane-the anticipation. 

She had never been on the brink for so long. 

Her moans, begging and pleadings were like a two year old with her first 
spanking. She literally ached with her need to find fulfillment but Adam 
kept her at the brink and refused to let her crash over until he could no 
longer deny them and he pounded into her like a demon possessed and their 
screams of release echoed throughout the dungeons and they clasped, totally 
drained. 

A half an hour after Jenny was released she was prostrate on the floor 
begging my Master to schedule her with Adam Hendricks for all he had 
contracted for at Chattel Castle. 

He showed Jenny Adam's request form, including his desire to split a slave's 
breasts with a knife, and still she begged to be his for whatever he wanted. 

After conferring with Mr. Hendricks, his schedule was changed to having only 
my cousin Jenny serve him for his entire stay at the castle. 

Jenny kissed my Master's feet and ran to Nicole and Denise to verify the 
reservations for Adam Hendricks. 

Jenny spent the entire week of Adam's stay with him. 

He had whipped her, burnt her, hung her by her tits for over an hour. 

He had placed so many needles in her that she called herself his personal 
pincushion. 

By Tuesday Jenny would have begged Adam to kill her, if it did it slowly 
enough. 

But Adam had no desire to kill Jenny. 

Bring her to the brink of death maybe, but not kill her. 

Thursday was his last day at Chattel Castle and true to his motto of doing 
things slowly it was the day for him to cut Jenny's breasts. 

Many, including Dr. Hubbard, were present. It was also decided that the 
session would be filmed on videotape. 

For no apparent reason, Adam requested the American Indian room for his 
final session at Chattel Castle and it was granted. 

The room, filled with spectators, teepees, victim posts, roaring fires, and 
implements of torture was filled by noon. 

Few at Chattel Castle had ever seen a slave submit to having her tits cut in 
half, including myself and my Master. 

It was a major attraction. 

The spectators made way for Adam and Jenny as they entered the room. 

It was easy to see that Jenny was far from unharmed as she calmly knelt on 
the dirt floor in front of the block of wood that would serve as her cutting 
board. 

Adam was true to form. 

It took him over a half an hour to bind Jenny to the block. 

When he was done Jenny's chest was tied to the twelve by twelve inch, four 
foot long block of wood that rested on posts sunk into the ground. Her hair 
had been pulled into a pony tail with a length of rawhide and the other end 
bound her wrists to her hair. 

Her neck was arched way back, her hands almost touching the back of her 
head. 

Her knees were tied to the posts that entered the ground pulling her legs 
far apart and leaving her cunt exposed for all to see. 

Adam took over an hour to whip her already whipped tits fifty times. 

Many of the observers were getting restless. 

Jenny was again hovering on the brink of fulfillment and begging for release 
and there wasn't a flaccid cock in attendance as he took up the knife for 
the first time since entering. 

Jenny was bound so stringently that all she could move was the pony tail 
that hung down her back. 

She could tense and untense the muscles underlying her tits but she couldn't 
move them a fraction of an inch otherwise. 

"Look at it Jenny." 

Adam held the razor sharp knife over her head so she could see it. 

The blade was twelve inches long. It was three inches wide at the hilt and 
tapered to a point as slender as a needle at the tip. 

The surrounding lights and fires made if flash. Turning the knife so the 
reflected light blinded Jenny's eyes, Adam continued. 

"Can you imagine it cutting into your perfect breasts? Can you feel it 
cutting you open? Can you feel your breasts opened like a side of beef?" 

"Feel it Jenny. Anticipate. Savor." 

If it wasn't for Jenny's screams you could have heard a pin drop as Adam 
made the first incision in her left breast where breast was attached to the 
chest wall. 

It took him over five minutes to cut his way to her nipple. 

He then did the same to her other breast. Taking just as long. 

A red blood line decorated each breast as he returned to her left tit to 
make his cut deeper. 

Jenny was out of her mind as she begged hm to do it even slower. 

When he was finished with the second cut on each breast everyone could see 
Jenny's nipples lying open on the block of wood and two inches inside her 
flesh. 

By the third cut only about an inch of Jenny's breasts remained uncut from 
chest to nipples, the inch that rested on the block. 

Many people left the room to seek out a place to get sick as Adam pulled 
apart her breasts and thoroughly inspected them from inside out. 

Removing his hands from her breasts Adam used one finger to touch her clit. 
His finger had no more than made contact than everyone knew she was having a 
mind shattering climax. 

As soon as she started to come Adam called Dr. Hubbard forward to close up 
what he had just opened. 

And believe it or not, Jenny continued to come the entire time it took Dr. 
Hubbard to clean and sew her closed. 

Before Dr. Hubbard finished with his task you literally could not escape the 
room because of the mass orgy that was process. 

The last to find sexual relief was Adam, for he had waited until the doctor 
was done and Jenny released before he eased his cock into her mouth. 

Jenny had learned her lesson well. 

It took her over a half and hours to make him come. 

When Adam finally had his own release the room was empty. 

Dr. Hubbard gave Jenny some antibiotics and Adam carried her to her room 
where they spent the remainder of the day. 

It was a surprise to few that Jenny accompanied Adam when he left Chattel 
Castle. 

Two months later we attended their wedding in Vermont. Jenny's unhealed 
breasts displayed by her low cut wedding gown. Family and guest thought 
nothing of her condition, after all she was a Smyth. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Being a pain lover I had few questions as to the popularity of B&D and S&M, 
but when my master insisted that animals be available at Chattel Castle I 
had my doubts about the expenses involved in keeping them for I didn't know 
of the demand for human-animal relations. 

I soon learned that they more than paid for their keep. Few days have gone 
by at the castle when animals are not used and never has a week gone by. 

My first encounter came about by a request by a Mr. Terrance Wakefield, an 
innovator in the auto industry. 

He stated in his request form that he was always surrounded my machinery and 
wanted to get a more personal look at humans and their relationship with 
animals. 

In point of fact, he was willing to pay to force a human female to copulate 
with a stallion. 

And because of my master's foresight Mr. Wakefield was able to choose from 
several willing slaves when he arrived. 

He made an excellent choice in picking Lynn, who worked part time as a dairy 
maid at the castle. 

Marcus, the stallion, had been trained long before his arrival to fuck 
women, in fact he had been taught a unique technique so a platform wasn't 
needed to protect the woman. 

The morning after his arrival at the castle I was assigned to accompany Mr. 
Wakefield as his personal gold ribbon. 

To a casual observer we appeared to be faking an ambling stroll, but in fact 
our destination was the livestock area that was to the south side of the 
inner courtyard. 

Lynn had been assigned to milk the cows that morning and she knew the part 
she was to play. 

Getting into the spirit of the castle, Mr. Wakefield asked, "Are you having 
any labor problems with the serfs in this area?" 

"No, none at all. As you can see our serfs are well taken care of here in 
the domain. They have ample food and can trade for other items with their 
surplus. 

"Over here you can see our dairy farm. Master Thomas is a marvel at training 
our serfs and we produce the finest cheeses in the country. See over there," 
pointing to Lynn who was in the process of milking a cow, "how well trained 
our serfs are. Our animals are well treated and give good quality products." 

"Care to watch Lynn as she takes the milk to the churning room and see how 
our milk and cheeses are made?" 

"Yes, that would be very helpful. As you know I am in the process of 
acquiring a dairy herd too. I would appreciate observing how yours is run. 
Shall we?" 

I'm sure Lynn saw us but she gave no indication of seeing us as she took her 
wooden bucket of fresh milk to the churning room. 

We followed her. 

There were seven girls in attendance, each processing the incoming milk, 
three including Lynn were wearing red ribbons. 

Some were making cream, others butter, but most were working on making 
cheese which we actually did produce. 

Lynn emptied her bucket in a collecting vat then made her way to a prepared 
butter churn and began thumping the plunger up and down, thereby drawing 
attention to low cut bodice and her swaying bosom. 

Mr. Wakefield noticed her displayed breasts but maintained his play-acting 
as I continued to discuss our processes. 

The churning room is made of thick stone that keeps the interior cool, but 
you would never had guessed it as Lynn made every pretense of sweating so 
much with her labors that she continually had to wipe the perspiration from 
her bobbing tits. 

Mr. Wakefield was slowly ignoring me and when Lynn managed to expose a 
breast by her continual wiping, he no longer heard a word I said and I 
stopped my efforts. 

Lynn proceeded to act as if she was entirely alone in the building as a 
scant few minutes later her other breast became free also. 

Mr. Wakefield's attention didn't falter from her swaying, bouncing tits 
until the enterprising Lynn took things a step farther. 

Her hands no longer brought the plunger up and down. 

Instead she began to caress it like she would a very pleasing cock. 

His eyes followed her every movement. 

Still pretending she was alone Lynn stood up, tucked her long skirt into her 
waist band and straddled the upright plunger and lowered her pussy to it. 

Then she again began to churn the butter along with churning herself. The 
swish-thunk of the rising and falling plunger had Mr. Wakefield's cock 
standing at attention. 

Up and down the handle went. Up to Lynn's churning cunt, down to churn the 
butter. 

Her freely bobbing tits was a masterpiece of arousal as Mr. Wakefield 
approached her and asked, "Gould you use some assistance?" 

Lynn smiled, took his hand and placed it on the wooden plunger as her hands 
began to remold her upstanding, bobbing breasts. 

He kept the same rhythm on the handle that she had used until her moans 
egged him to faster efforts. 

Soon a good eight inches of the handle was entering her as his hand pounded 
into her cunt as his arm moved faster and faster. And then it happened. 

Lynn came and screamed at him to enter her even more. 

He complied and before Lynn shuttered to a halt twelve inches of the handle 
was deeply buried within her seething tunnel. 

Slamming the plunger into the churn Mr. Wakefield grabbed Lynn around the 
waist and flung her to the floor and covered her, his cock leading the way. 

Five minutes later he was lying beside her trying to catch his breath as 
Lynn berated him for coming to fast and lacking the length and breathe to 
satisfy her. 

Naturally the bitch was lying because I know of a fact that she had come an 
additional two times, but it was all part of the game. 

Leaning on an elbow beside her, Mr. Wakefield asked, "Are you saying that I 
am inadequate?" 

"Well, now don't get me wrong, sit It's just that I'm use to men of larger 
proportions." 

"You've nothing to be ashamed of, but being around the animals and robust 
men as much as I am, I'm use to larger cocks filling my cave." 

"Oh? And if I could get you a larger, cock, what would you say?" 

"Why, I'd said thank you, of course. But how can you get a larger cock? To 
my knowledge men come only blessed with one." 

"Well just come with me little lady and I'll show you a cock that will make 
your cave seem small. Interested?" 

"Interested? You just lead the way, sir." 

Lynn offered him her hand and they walked out of the churning shed. 

Somehow Lynn forgot to lower her skirt or to cover her swaying breasts as we 
made our way to the stables. 

Several people stared and a few followed us. 

Entering the stables, Mr. Wakefield said, "there is one stipulation that you 
must agree to before I bring in your large cock." 

"Oh? And what is that?" 

"I insist that you be bound first. I have offered this cock before and when 
the wenches saw it they ran." 

"The choice is yours. Let me tie you up or you don't get to even see the 
huge cock. What will it be?" 

"Well aren't you the sly one? How am I to know that you'll keep your word if 
n I allow myself to be tied?" 

"You don't. Except for my word that I'll produce the largest cock you have 
ever seen or dreamed about filling your cunt. So?" 

"Oh, all right. What am I to do?" 

"Just take your clothes off and stand still while I tie you." 

"You promise that this cock of yours will fill me full?" 

"If it doesn't, you can't be filled." He gave her an easy smile and Lynn 
began to undress. 

A moment later he was wrapping her in rope. 

He started by tying her wrists, looping the other ends of the rope in rings 
that were embedded in posts that supported the roof of the stable. 

Then two more ropes were secured to her ankles. 

He told her to lay down on the ground and when she did he called two stable 
boys over to hold her in the air. At which point Lynn began to protest, but 
it did her no good and soon she was tied by her wrists and ankle several 
feet above the straw covered stable floor. 

Her warm body was hanging from four posts sunk into the ground that 
supported the roof of the stable. 

She could be accessed from all directions. 

A crowd had gathered by the opening of the stable and several had entered 
and were sitting on available bales of hay and straw. 

"Hey, now wait a minute. I've changed me mind. You can just keep this 
mysterious huge cock and let me go." 

"Too bad. I haven't changed my mind." 

Turning to the stable master, he said, "Please bring Marcus out. He has 
another filly for stud." 

Lynn, ever the actress, began bewailing her fate and calling him every know 
name that had ever been invented as an insult. 

She twisted her body as much as her bonds would allow, and if I hadn't know 
her, I would have sworn that she was truly terrified when Marcus was brought 
in and led between the posts that held her legs up and widely spread. 

Marcus' handler brought the huge black stallion between her legs. 

"There you go Marcus, another fine filly for you to mount. Wanna take a 
whiff of her scent, oh boy?" 

Thus say he urged Marcus' flaring nose to Lynn's leaking pussy. 

Marcus was more than interested in her scent as his huge tongue gave it a 
long slurpy lick that sent Lynn crashing into orgasm. 

"Get that dammmmnnned beast away from me you bastard. Get him away." 

"But my dear, he is the owner of the cock I promised you. Can you see it? 
Marcus finds you very appealing." 

"Look, you can see him growing by the second. In a moment his long, wide, 
slick cock will drop into view. Can't you just feel it growing to enter you 
cave? Your cave that needs to be filled so badly." 

"Look at it, it's starting to drop. He likes your scent. It's making him 
grow to large proportions." 

And sure enough it was. 

Marcus took two more healthy licks of Lynn's pulsating pussy and his 
stallion club was leaving its sheath and straining toward the floor. 

Six, ten, then twelve inches slid out of his horsely pouch. 

The lights played on the wet sheen as it grew some more as his whinny of 
excitement could be heard around the castle grounds, as Lynn continued her 
mock struggle to be free. 

"Ye be ready for her, Marcus? Atta boy. Come on and you can have her. 
Forward boy. That's it. Now UP. UP MARCUS." 

All watched in amazement as Marcus did just that. 

His forelegs waved in the air. His crushing hooves waving above the now 
still Lynn. 

"Forward Marcus. Step. Step. Atta boy, now down. Easy boy. Easy." 

When ordered to step the black stallion had indeed stepped. With his back 
legs. 

Like a trick dog walking on his hind legs Marcus walked forward, his 
forelegs still waving in the air above Lynn. 

One, two, four, then five steps he took. His trainer judged him in place and 
ordered him to come down. 

Marcus brought his front legs down right between Lynn's wide spread, tied 
arms. 

Lynn looked up and could only see the under belly of the stallion that was 
standing over her. 

She didn't move a muscle. It seemed she didn't even breath. 

"Atta boy. Ye want the bitch don't ya? Yea, I can tell ye do. So what you a 
waitin' for? Bring that horse dick ov'n you up and take her. That's it. Plug 
her good and proper. Atta boy." 

His long, twitching, lubricated dick rose to the occasion as it sought out 
what his tongue had just licked. 

"Atta boy." 

His handler gave his mighty cock a slight nudge and the end of Marcus' cock 
found what it was seeking-Lynn's flowing cunt. 

The slightly slender head began its entry. . "Oohhh my Goddd ... that- 
damned beasst is entering me ... aaahhh Godddd ... make him stoppp ... he 
tooo bigg ... ahhhhh nnoooo ... aahhhhh nnooo ... he'sssss ripping me 
apart." 

In fact it felt like heaven. 

But Lynn couldn't say that. 

As Marcus' shinny dick eased into Lynn's even more wet pussy, there was 
absolutely no resistance at all. 

Lynn had one of those cunts that was tighter than hell no matter the size of 
what entered it. 

She could take a finger and make it extremely happy or she could stretch to 
Marcus and more. I had seen her take two fists up her cunt at the same time 
and five minutes after they were removed make a man with a five incher feel 
like he was fucking a thin necked bottle. 

She shook her tits and brought her nipples back and forth across the velvety 
hairs of Marcus' barrel chest as she tipped her cunt up for further 
penetration. 

Her audience watched, as inch after inch of Marcus entered her gasping 
pussy. 

The red head was totally within her. 

Soon more followed as he whinnied out his lust. 

Eight. Ten. Twelve inches of red slid in. Fourteen, then he was totally 
within her. 

It must have felt like a man had shoved his whole fist and arm up her. 

But did Lynn object? 

Well, yes. But only to maintain the illusion of being forced. 

She was loving every damned second and every damned inch. Her words were of 
protest but her motions were of woman in heat. 

I was amazed at the amount of thrusting she managed in her bound position. 
But lunge toward the cock that was spearing her she did. 

Her tits flipped back and forth as she stimulated them on his satin hairs. 

And then Marcus became a true stallion. 

He was in the bitch below him and he was now ready to take her as his animal 
instincts demanded. 

His huge, silky muscles rippled as he started to withdraw. 

Out. Out. Out some more then he slammed back in and I'm not real sure if 
Lynn's screams were of fake pain or not. 

Then Marcus found his stride. Faster and faster his monstrous dick slammed 
in and out of her and no one had any doubts any more. 

Lynn was screaming in avid pleasures. 

Marcus sounded like he was screaming too as his feet moved with his every 
thrust. His hips curled forward and he was out of control. 

His only goal was to dump his seed in the warm cavern that he was in. 

Lynn wasn't objecting either as he began to swell. 

And then it happened. His giant fire hose was spraying her with enough 
pressure to put out a fire. He shivered. He shook and he pumped in some 
more. 

His horsey cream couldn't be held as it squirted out of her coming cunt as 
fast as he pumped it in. 

Marcus and Lynn seemed to freeze. Only muscles under their skin moved as a 
steady plop, plop of cream landed on the straw beneath them. 

Then finally Lynn jerked. 

We all watched as Marcus began to shrink and slide out. 

"Nnooooooo. Don't go. Fuck me. Fuck me." 

Marcus shook his head as if in denial and his diminished dick hung in the 
air for a moment before it retreated to its satin sheath and he gave a 
mighty whinny. 

"Atta good boy, Marcus. Ye filled her good and proper ye did. Just take a 
sec to catch your breath. Atta boy. All right back up a bit. That's it. A 
bit more." 

"Now, Marcus, UP. Up boy. That's it. Now back. BACK. Good boy. Down Marcus. 
Atta boy. Come on boy, you desire a hearty meal after that. Come on boy. 
Atta boy. Let's go." 

The trainer lead the satisfied stallion out from between the posts and 
headed him toward his stall. 

"Well, was that cock big enough for you, bitch?" Mr. Wakefield asked as he 
stood to her side and began to smear Marcus' juices over her still twitching 
cunt and mound. 

"Or was it too big? Ready to settle for my smaller cock now. Or are you so 
stretched that a sword could be shoved up you without even touching your 
damned cave walls?" 

"Fuck mmee ... pleassse oh God ... fuccckkk meeee." 

"I'd get lost in there." 

"Pleassssee ... fuccckkk mmmeee." 

"Aaahh ssshitt. Why not?" 

Mr. Wakefield walked between her legs and his very stiff cock played with 
the deposited cream between Lynn's legs. 

"Pleassssee ... fuccckkk mmmeee noowwww." 

Mr. Wakefield could see her clit still twitching up and down with delight as 
he slid his cock into the come soaked pussy. 

"Damn. You're tight." 

He slammed in and few had any doubts that Lynn's slick walls were anything 
but tight. "You gottt a drawstring on thattt cunt ooooffff yourssss? Damnnn 
... aahhhh yea squeezzzee mmmeee ... aaaahhhh ssshittt." 

Unfortunately Mr. Wakefield didn't last all that long and Lynn was anything 
but satisfied or wanting to stop. 

But that matter was solved as three men lined up between her legs to see to 
her needs. 

When she was finally released she was very content. Sore, but pleased as she 
took the rest of the day off to relax. 

That evening I saw her take on six more men as they cavorted in the hay 
strewn floor of the stable when I went to check on another matter. 

Lynn had a secured future here at Chattel Castle. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

I gave scant attention to the preparations of Ali Haffett's arrival. 

We had had visiting Arabs before, even ones that were high ranking political 
figures. 

But Kim couldn't seem to talk about anyone else. It was Ali this and Ali 
that. It soon became obvious that the man fascinated her, so I began to 
listen more closely to her frequent praises. 

Ali Haffett had become prominent during his country's bid to enter the 
twenty century. He was well educated, attractive, a force to be reckoned 
with, not only in his country but in the Middle East and according to Kim, 
even in America. And a reputed sports enthusiast. 

The more I heard about him, the more confused I became. 

Evidently he was noted as a peacemaker in politics. But his personal life 
was an entirely different matter. 

It was reported that he kept a bevy of harem girls and reputedly kept all of 
them not only in constant pain, but also sexually satisfied. 

That was what interested Kim the most. His sexual prowess. And his much 
talked about fourteen inch cock. 

From the moment that his reservation arrived, Kim wanted him. She willingly 
took on assignments to earn being assigned to Ali when he arrive. 

She was successful. 

Ali Haffett arrived on schedule and Kim was awaiting him in his room as 
requested. 

The six foot two, slender black man did not have to strain himself to see 
Kim upon entering his room. 

She was tied to his door. 

Kim's arms were tied behind her back, the rope to her hands tied to the 
doorknob. 

But the reason he couldn't miss her was the fact that she was literally 
hanging over the door. 

Her arms were on one side of the door and her body on the other, forcing her 
bent back arms that were resting on the top of the door to support her 
entire weight. 

Which, by no lack of foresight, left her cunt at exactly the correct height 
for Ali's mouth. And he didn't have to search for her cunt either. It was 
widely spread by the simple addition of a spreader bar attached to her 
ankles. 

Letting his escort deposit his luggage were he so desired, Ali approached 
the strung up Kim. 

"Good evening, my dear," came out of his smiling lips as he ever so casually 
inspected his hung trophy. 

With one very long slender finger, he probed her opened offering. "How are 
you today?" 

"I'm ... I'm ahh fine, sir. And you?" 

"I couldn't be better. So tell me," as he calmly leaned against the door 
frame, "how do like your position? Do you find it interesting?" 

"I ... ah find it very ... ahh stimulating." 

"Are you a true pain lover?" 

Before Kim could answer, Mr. Haffett curled his fingers together and 
suddenly his entire hand was up her cunt pressing into her cervix. 

"Aahhhhaaa ... yessssss." 

"How delightful and how about this?" 

Kim didn't know what this was, but she had no trouble registering the sudden 
pain that enveloped her left tit. 

Eyes totally unfocused, her throat suddenly sore from the sheer volume of 
her scream, Kim tired to lower her head to see what had just been done to 
her. 

A trap. 

A metal, spring loaded animal trap had just been violently closed around her 
left tit. 

A steady stream of milk was flowing from her left tit as she watched in 
total amazement as he proceeded to trap the right one too. 

That time Kim saw it happen. 

The opened trap came to her tit, held by his one hand, the other was still 
up her cunt. 

Her nipple triggered the pad in the center. Both metal jaws dug into her 
tit. One clamping on the top, the other pressing up from the bottom. 

It snapped shut. 

Kim screamed and both breasts were squirting jets of milk into the smiling 
face of Ali Haffett. 

He licked it off like it was the most delectable drink in existence. 

"You didn't answer my question. Do you like the traps? Do they cause you 
enough pain?" 

"Yyeessss ... I ahhh like themmm." 

"Excellent. And this too?" 

His hand and wrist pressed up. Firmly. Enough that he was supporting part of 
her weight with his hand in her cunt. 

"Yyeesss ... I doooo." 

"Excellent. Excellent." 

And with those words, he withdrew his hand, wiped her milk off his face with 
a handkerchief, and finally walked into his room, leaving Kim atop the door 
with traps on her pain loving tits. 

Within the first two minutes of meeting Ali Haffett, Kim knew what she 
wanted. 

Him. 

As she allowed the pain in her breasts to sink into her she had no problem 
remembering the massive lump that had formed in his slacks when she had 
watched him attach the second trap to her. 

The stories she had heard were correct. He was massive. And within his five 
day stay she would have ample time to verify for herself his stamina. 

After removing his jacket, tie and shirt, Mr. Haffett returned to his 
captive. 

"What is your opinion of sports? Do you enjoy them?" 

"Ssssppoortts?" 

"Yes. Sports. I am fascinated by them. Or to be more correct, by the 
equipment involved in various sports. Like the animal traps on your 
breasts." 

"Many people consider hunting to be a sport. They casually set out traps 
like these to capture unsuspecting animals. But I don't like to prey on 
unthinking animals. I prefer humans to sport with." 

"Would you care to join me in my sporting?" 

"Yyeess ... I'll dooo anything you want." 

"How generous of you. You don't even know what I want, but you are willing 
to do what I want. How generous indeed. Perhaps I should tell you about my 
interests in sports." 

"Several interest me. Hunting, which you've seen. Baseball. Football. 
Shot-put is fascinating. And of course there is riding, rowing, canoeing, 
archery, and weight lifting. I even enjoy darts on occasion. Still 
interested in joining me in my sporting endeavors?" 

Kim wasn't sure if she understood all that he was implying, but if hunting 
meant traps on her tits, what would the others entail? Riding could mean a 
crop. Rowing and canoeing could be paddles. But what about the others? Only 
one way to find out. 

"Yyesss ... I'm aahhh still interested." 

"Excellent. I enjoy people who are willing to give things a sporting chance. 
How about we start with weight lifting? It's an ancient sporting activity, 
after all even the Romans used weights to strengthen the Gladiators of old. 
Ready to try the sport of weight lifting?" 

Having a good idea of what weight lifting entailed, Kim was more than eager 
to start. 

"Yyessss." 

"Excellent. But first we have to set the hunting aside." Thus saying, he 
removed the traps from her breasts. 

The impetuous rush of blood back to her breasts caused Kim to scream in 
agony. But neither of them missed her other reaction. 

A dripping cunt that just happened to be in the midst of an extremely 
satisfying climax. 

Allowing Kim a few moments to compose herself, Ali then released her. 

Ten minutes later they were in room ten, dungeon level two that had been 
reserved for them. 

"To get you warmed up for the weight lifting, I think you should start with 
some deep knee bends, don't you?" 

Deep knee bends? Why not, she thought as she stood in the middle of the room 
and began to do them. 

"No, no. Not like that. Spread your legs and bend. Yes, that's it. Spread 
them wide. Get your ass as far down to the floor as possible. Excellent. 
Keep doing them while I prepare your weights." 

Kim did deep knee bends with her legs widely-spread, as out of the corner of 
her eyes she watched him pursue the contents of the room. 

Up and down she went. Her ebony body began to shimmer with a coating of 
sweat. 

"You may rest while we try these weights." 

He held two ten pound weights in his hand, each was connected to a chain. 
Chains that could be used to pull a car. Each link was three inches long, 
one inch wide and weighed a half a pound each. 

Ten links per chain, ten pound weights at the end of each, made a total of 
fifteen pounds. 

Kim reached out her hands to take the weights. 

"How generous. You want to hold them while I attach them. By all means, hold 
them for me. It will make it easier if my hands are free." 

Beginning to suspect that more was involved, Kim held the two ten pound 
weights in her hands. 

Mr. Haffett connected the end of the chain to her right nipple ring. 

The weights trembled in her hands as the other chain was clipped to her left 
nipple ring. 

There was no more suspicions as to what was going to support the weights in 
her hands when she began her weight lifting. 

Fifteen pounds of weigh would hang from each nipple. Her pain loving body 
had the audacity to quiver in anticipation. 

"I'll take them now." 

Kim's nervous hands transferred the weights to All's hands as she tried to 
prepare herself for what was to happen. 

She didn't succeed. 

Ali dropped the weights. 

Kim's tits headed for the floor. 

She screamed as the pain ripped through her nipples and breasts. 

Her nipples started to tear but when she reached her hands toward the 
weights they were stopped. 

"Oh, no. That's not giving the game a sporting chance." 

And before she knew what was happening, her wrists were cuffed, a clip 
attached and her arms were heading toward the ceiling via another chain. 

As her arms headed up more strain was placed on her weighted breasts and she 
screamed. 

"Nnnooooo ... Godddd nooooo." 

Mr. Haffett saw her nipple starting to tear. Saw her entire body shake with 
pain and was quick to ask, "Are you begging for mercy?" He knew the rules 
and had no intention of being expelled. 

"Nnnooooo ... ooohhh nnnnoooo." 

A quick glance at the gold ribbon guard who shrugged his shoulders was all 
the remaining confirmation Ali needed. 

He smiled. His money would be well spent. 

"Then perhaps we should increase your weight lifting, hum?" 

"Yyyeeesss ... aaahhhh anything." 

Kim was too caught up in the pain that she loved to deny him or herself more 
pleasure. A ton sounded fine just then. 

Mr. Haffett wasn't thinking in terms of tons, but pounds was another matter 
entirely. 

He walked over to the collection of weights on a nearby bench and selected 
some more. 

Two five pound weights. And five pounds of attaching chains. 

"How about your cunt rings doing some weight lifting?" 

"Yyyeesss ... buttt thenn fuckkk meeee. Please fuckk me." 

"It will be my pleasure, my dear. My pleasure. But first the weights." 

Clipping one chain to her right cunt lip, he gently lowered it until her 
ring accepted it. 

Kim screamed. 

Kim came. 

He attached the other chain and weight. Kim came again. 

Stripping off his slacks, he asked, "Cunt or ass?" 

"IIIII donnn't ... care. Just fuckkkk me. Please fuckkkk me nowww." 

He close her ass. 

After all, he didn't want to get hit by the swinging weights. 

Her one glimpse of his cock was all she needed. For that cock he could hang 
from her cunt rings if he wanted. 

It was huge. And it was all hers. 

The fat knob ironed out all the wrinkles of her asshole. 

It sank in. And Kim went bonkers. 

His cock filled her like she had never been filled before. Long. Wide. Firm. 
It was an instrument of total sexual pleasure. 

He slammed in. He jerked out. The weights bobbed. They slammed together. 
They pulled her tits and cunt. And with the combination of weights and cock, 
she came. 

Not once. Not twice. But continuously. 

His hand found her pulsating clit. He massaged it. She came some more. 

Then he came. Fourteen inches up her ass. 

He flooded her. And she came some more. 

He withdrew and was ready for some sport. 

Removing the weights and chains, he set them aside and picked up the paddle 
and oar. 

"Now to combine rowing and canoeing." 

Walking to the front of her, he asked, "Which one where," as he held up the 
canoe paddle and the rowing oar. 

"Which one to breast? The other is for your ass." 

Kim had had a variety of weapons used on her body. But to her knowledge, 
never had she had a canoe paddle nor a rowing oar used on her. Which would 
be best where? 

"Paddle ... my breaassts." 

"As you wish." 

Thus saying he motioned the gold ribbon man over. Handed him the oar then, 
took a good grip on the paddle. 

The sound of the paddle slamming into her breasts was enough to make Kim 
shake with desire. But there was more than the sound. 

There was the pain too. 

The eighteen inch wide blade smashed her tits flat against her chest. They 
instantly registered the pain. 

And as she was screaming out in that pain, Ali switched weapons with the 
gold ribbon, and the oar landed on her ass. 

Paddle to her breasts. 

Oar to her ass. 

Back and forth they landed with Kim trapped between. And loving every blow 
landed. 

Her tits that craved pain so much were at their limit. And still she came 
with each blow. 

Her ass felt like it was on fire. And she came with those blows too. 

Paddle tits. The oar to her ass. Over and over. They landed. She came. 
Twenty. 

By twenty-five he stopped, set the paddle and oar aside and took up two iron 
weights the size of baseballs. 

Baseball hadn't been invented by the time period of the Castle, but cannons 
had. So instead of baseball he used cannon balls for his sport. 

"Now for a little backyard baseball." 

Kim didn't have much of an opportunity to contemplate his words before he 
was shoving the iron cannon ball up her recently fuck ass. 

He shoved. 

She stretched. 

He shoved some more and she opened. 

Her ass was the proud possessor of a cannon ball. 

But Ali Haffett was far from through. 

That cannon ball was attached by chain to another. 

It found the same home. 

So did the third ball. 

The three balls and chains up her ass made his cock seem tiny by comparison. 
Her ass was more than full. It was almost tearing. 

Never had she felt so much pain. 

But he wasn't through yet. 

Picking up the other chains and weights, he again attached them to her 
nipple and cunt rings. 

Twenty pounds of metal in her ass. Fifteen hanging from each tit. Ten from 
each cunt lip. 

Forty-five pounds of weights and she couldn't stop coming. 

Then it was riding time. 

Ali whipped her weighted tits with the crop. 

He whipped her stuffed and oar paddled ass. 

He whipped her weighted cunt. 

The crop landed. And landed. 

Kim came and came. 

Her world was pain. 

Her world was a totally paradise of pain loving sexual bliss. Never had she 
been so totally filled, filled with pain and pleasure. 

But in that she was wrong. 

His cock was filling her cramped cunt. 

The weights moved with each of his movements. And he was anything but 
motionless. 

Seeking a way to show him her gratitude, she found his mouth. 

It was a total kiss. A kiss to total surrender. 

If, at that moment he decided to kill her, she would have been content to 
let him. 

Tongues intertwined. 

Cock and cunt were one. 

Ali and Kim were one. They knew the other's needs and provided more than was 
required. 

Knowing that she could take even more, he told the gold ribbon to whip her. 

The whip landed on her stuffed ass. His cock filled her cunt. The weights 
pulled her this way and that. 

And as she felt the kiss of his come bathing her cervix the weights were 
jerked from her ass. The ultimate climax filled her. Then her world turned 
gray. Then black. 

When she came to she found herself in Mr. Haffett's room. 

An immediate inventory told her the story. There wasn't a spot on her, or in 
her, that didn't hurt. 

A moan and she curled into his warmth and went to sleep. 

When next she awoke it was morning and she was delightfully filled. 

Ali was buried deep within her cunt. His cock head jabbing into her womb 
entrance. 

It filled her, rammed her, and threatened to rip her apart, like cheap 
cloth. 

The sensation was almost too intense to bear ... except she had no choice, 
and so she endured it. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

The Castle was well established and running smoothly when Mr. Jeremy 
Cotheran made his reservations. Devoting his adult life to the legal system, 
Mr. Cotheran had a fantasy centering around the court systems, specifically 
those of olden times. 

He wanted to be a judge in Merry Old England during the sixteenth or 
seventeenth century when they were all powerful. And feared. 

Being assigned his escort, I was able to observe his "first day at the 
Castle. 

Arriving on time, I escorted him to his suite, explained how the Castle was 
run, allowed him time to change into costume, then escorted him to room two, 
level one of the dungeon. 

The interrogation room contained a bar enclosed cell that was filled with 
whimpering convicts'. Matted straw filled mattresses, wooden cots and a slop 
bucket made-up the furnishings. Along With the five victims. 

"Your ship leaves for the colonies tomorrow at dawn but I have decided that 
one of you will remain here in England. With me. Anyone interested in 
staying?" 

All five clamored to be chosen. Arms reached out between the bars begging to 
be chosen, not wanted to go to the barbaric colonies where savages did 
unspeakable things to people. 

"Quiet. That's better. As I said, only one of you will be allowed to remain 
with me. But she must be willing to pay to remain. To pay with her body." 

Almost instantly the four women began to disrobe. Tits were bared in record 
time. Asses and cunts came into view. All except for one vied for his 
attention. . 

Spying the red head cowering in the back corner, judge Cotheran beckoned her 
forward. "Do you wish to go to the colonies?" 

"Nay your lordship." 

"Then why aren't you trying to please me?" 

"Ye don't want her governor. The guards have had their sport with her and 
she ain't quite sane anymore. Beat her to a bloody pulp they did. You ain't 
wantin' the likes of her. She's grown to like the switch, ifn' you know what 
I mean." 

Ignoring the woman who had spoken to him Judge Cotheran again turned his 
attention back to the red head. "Is that true?" 

"I ... aye your lordship. 'Tis true." 

Unlocking the door Mr. Cotheran held out his hand and Kathy accepted it and 
stepped out of the cell. 

"Remove your dress." 

Kathy was in her element now. Play acting and submitting were second nature 
to her. She had applied for Mr. Cotheran when his request came in. 

Acting like the demure, hesitate, confused victim, she slide the sleeve of 
her tattered dress off her shoulder. 

I had to smile myself when I saw the twinkle in her eyes as her whipped 
breasts came into view. Mr. Cotheran didn't miss them either. 

"Why were you beaten?" 

"Because the guards wanted to beat me ... and because they knew that I ... 
liked it too, m'lord." 

Mr. Cotheran cleared his throat and tried to get back into his role. "Why 
are you being deported?" 

They say L. killed a man. But I didn't, m'lord. He just up and died in me 
arms." 

"And why was he in your arms?" 

"We ahh we was a havin' a good time, ifn' you know what I mean." 

"You were fucking him? Is that it?" 

"Aye. We were. And he just up and died. They didn't believe me when I told 
them that. They only saw me beaten body and thought I did him in to get 
away." 

"He had beaten you? It didn't start here with the guards?" 

"Aye he did. Me mam had given me to him for a shilling, like she had others. 
He thrashed me with a whip, he did. Then had his fun and died." 

"But the beating wasn't against your will?" 

"No it weren't. Like she said" nodding toward the woman who had spoken 
earlier, "I like it, m'lord." 

"Did he tie you up?" 

"Oh, no, m'lord. There weren't no reason to do that. I hold still for my 
beatins, I do. My mam taught me right, she did." 

"You mean to tell me that you stand still while being beaten?" 

"Ifn' they want me to, I do. Or knee, or lay down, or whatever they want me 
to do." 

"I don't believe you. No one can do that." 

"But I can, m'lord. I can prove it ya, ifn' you want." 

"I do want. Stand there. Place your hands on your head and don't move while 
I whip you." 

"Aye, m'lord." 

I don't know if Mr. Cotheran noticed her smile or not, but I did. Kathy was 
a unique gal at the Castle. Yes, she liked the pain. But for some reason she 
didn't like to be bound in any fashion. Refused to be in fact. And many 
found her fascinating. Including Mr. Cotheran who didn't like to bind his 
victims either which created some difficulties for him. Many could withstand 
the pain he inflicted, but not without being restrained while doing so. 

Which is the reason Kathy and Mr. Cotheran had been paired up in the first 
place. 

I wasn't the least bit surprised when Kathy did as ordered. 

She stood straight before him, raised her hands to her head, spread her legs 
for balance and waited for him to begin. 

A moment later he did. 

Taking up the nine stranded cat that had been hanging on the wall, Mr. 
Cotheran straightened the strands and brought it back. Then forward. 

All nine strands landed on her thrusted forward, all ready whipped, breasts. 

Kathy's sigh of utter contentment filled our ears. 

He did it again. That time causing her to clamp her mouth shut to swallow 
her scream of pain. Her legs began to tremble. The cat landed again. And 
again. 

My job was to keep track of the blows landed to collect the correct fee when 
finished. Twenty to her breasts landed before he switched to her back and 
ass which got twenty each. 

Then as he stood in front of Kathy again he brought his hand down the 
strands of the cat until only about six inches remained. . 

"Spread your legs as far as possible." 

Kathy spread her legs. Leaving her cunt totally -unprotected. 

Standing to her left, Mr. Cotheran began to twirl the ends of the cat in a 
clockwise direction. Faster and faster the ends spun around creating a 
whistling sound in the room. 

Then he moved the ends of the swirling cat to her opened cunt. Thwack, 
thwack, thwack the ends peppered her opened cunt like a spinning wheel. 

Kathy's hands twisted together above her head. Her cunt tipped forward to 
receive the battering cat in her cunt. And she came. 

There was no doubt about that fact. 

The ends of the cat became wet. Drenched. Saturated. And still it spun into 
her until she close-up on the floor unable to hold herself up any more. 

But Mr. Cotheran wasn't disappointed in the least. Dropping the cat he 
flipped her over and jammed his cock up her whipped cunt as fast as he could 
to their mutual satisfaction as the other women and I looked on. 

Following that scheduled event, Mr. Cotheran requested Kathy for the 
remainder of his stay at the Castle. It was granted. 

They were a perfectly matched pair. Each enjoyed the infliction of pain 
without the restriction of bondage. 

A similar case was Mr. Jacobs and Noreen. But there was a slight twist 
involved. 

I was again in the City on a recruiting venture when I entered one of the 
clubs that had nightly entertainment. 

As I took a seat near the stage I saw the enchanting naked Noreen take 
center stage. The lights dimmed as she was spotlighted. 

Taking up a microphone that was lying on the floor, she issued her 
challenge. 

"I am willing to bet $100 that there isn't a person here that can make me 
beg to stop. The bartender is holding my money and if anyone wants to 
challenge me, give your $100 to him too." 

"First, let me set the rules." 

"Only this whip is to be used," she held up a five foot, single strand whip 
for all to see. "No blows to land above my neck. I am to remain unrestricted 
at all times. No bondage of any kind is to be used. I will assume any 
position you require and maintain it until told otherwise." 

"I will use supports as needed. Five minutes per challenge. Maximum number 
of challenges is three, with a five minute break between. Those are my 
rules. Any challengers?" 

The smirking smile on her face let all know that she didn't think any could 
defeat her. 

I was intrigued by her. 

Standing tall, all six foot of her, in the spotlight, she was an imposing 
figure. Full breasts, flared hips, a slightly padded posterior and long legs 
all showed signs that she could, or at least had, endured the whip before. 
She still had some slight bruising on her breasts, back and ass. 

I got out my note pad and began to take some notes. Here was a possible 
candidate for the Castle. 

Amid murmuring two people approached the bartender and laid down their 
money. A quick discussion and the order was established. 

The taller man hopped onto the stage and took the whip from Noreen's hand. 

Reaching up and grabbing a rope that was hanging from a beam on stage, he 
brought it to her. 

"Hold onto that bitch. Arms up and out of the way and legs spread wide." 

Noreen calmly did as requested. When she was in position the man began using 
the whip with a vengeance. 

All the length of the whip wrapped around her again and again. It sank into 
her breasts, the end snapping her spine. It curled around her hips, the tip 
striking her hair covered mound. 

It became a blur of motion. Landing again and again. 

Yes, Noreen screamed. Both in pain and in pleasure, but for the full five 
minutes, for the full fifty-seven times of the whip's landing, she did not 
beg for him to stop. 

At the end of his allotted time he stepped down from the stage. 

I don't think he bemoaned the loss of his money. 

All were eager to begin again during the break time as Noreen refreshed 
herself at the side of the stage. 

Out of curiosity, I watched the man who was to v be the next challenger. 

He didn't seem worried about losing his wager. His entire attention was 
focused on Noreen at the side of the stage. 

What was he watching for, I wondered and turned back to observe her also. 

When the bartender, and official time keeper, said it was time again, the 
man stepped up on stage and took the offered whip from Noreen's hand. 

They silently apprised each other in the blinding light. The man slowly 
walked around her, apparently looking for some clue as to how to go about 
winning her money and the challenge. 

Seemingly satisfied with his inspection, he said, "Place yourself across the 
horse, hands on ankles, and I will begin." 

The horse was basically in the style of a saw-horse, the only difference 
being the top was padded for the victim to drape over. 

Noreen assumed the assigned position with a calmness that belied the 
situation, in my opinion. 

I assumed, and I think everyone else did too, that his target would be her 
already whipped and bruised ass. If that was the case, we were all wrong. 

From the first swing of the whip, it was obvious that the man was no novice 
to wielding a whip. 

Just the very tip struck the back her right knee, leaving a vivid red streak 
in its wake. 

Evidently Noreen was expecting an ass attack too, for she screamed and 
almost stood up when the tip of the whip landed on the back of her knee. 

The second landed in the exact same spot. There was no increase in size. But 
there was in pain. 

Noreen screamed louder than at any other time that night. And I knew why. 
There are many nerves at the back of the knee and each one had been 
painfully awaken. 

I looked closer. Inspecting her non-whipped left knee I saw what the man had 
seen. 

No marks. 

She had never been stuck behind her knees before, thus no experience in 
handling pain there. As an experienced pain lover I knew what the man was 
doing. 

Any new area to receive pain didn't have minor nerve damage. They were all 
intact and registering a high level of pain. That is what he had been 
looking for. Virgin territory. And he had found it. 

By the tenth stroke to the exact same spot I knew that Noreen was struggling 
not to beg him to stop. 

Her lips were compressed so deathly together they were invisible. Her knees 
kept refusing to remain straight for the whip. And her screams erased all 
remaining skepticism that shortly she would indeed beg for him to stop. 

But just when I was sure she was going to beg him to stop, he switched 
target. 

He aimed for the back of her other knee. 

Noreen's body snapped up in pain and screamed. 

"Nnnooooo ..." 

But again before she could beg him to stop, he switched the landing zone of 
his whip. 

He struck her ass. 

She screamed, but it wasn't as intense. She could take it there and again 
laid over the top of the horse. 

A minute later the bartender called a halt to the man's time. 

Instantly he stopped, stepping forward he took her into his arms and held 
her. 

Suddenly I knew. He wanted her to win her challenge. 

And so did I. 

As fast as I could I went to the bartender and placed the required $100 in 
his hand. 

Five minutes later I was whipping Noreen. But I made sure it was where she 
could withstand it. I wasn't harsh, nor was I gentle. I recognized a soul 
mate and made both of us happy. 

When I had had my five minutes, I asked to see her at my table at her 
convenience. She agreed, almost as if she understood what I had done. 

By the time she came to my table Mr. Jacobs and I had had a long talk and my 
suspicions were confirmed. When Noreen arrived and after talking all of us 
knew what had transpired and why. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

My master had always felt challenged when offered a dare and the one my 
brother James gave him came as a special one. 

James and his wife Diane had been married for ten years, and had had five 
children, when we opened Chattel Castle and they came to our grand opening. 

We showed them around the facilities and they appeared truly impress with 
our operation. Always the one for one-upmanship James soon pointed out a 
feature that we had over looked-a performing theater. 

He said that what we had was great but we didn't have a large enough place 
for real good audience participation. 

When asked to elaborate, he did. 

James said that what we needed was a very large building that could hold 
hundreds of paying customers. Customers that would pay to watch what the 
castle was famous for-the infliction of pain. 

"What you need is a place where slaves are on display for people to see. To 
watch them undergo their punishments or take part in administrating that 
punishment." 

"Yes, your dungeon room are fully supplied but you are missing an entire 
market of people. People who would pay graciously to just watch a sweet 
bitch wreath under a whip, or two nimble slaves bound together head to cunt 
as they jerk to the sting of a crop." 

"Can't you just see them? Hundreds of them packed into a huge building. 
Watching what happens on a big, well light stage. Asking themselves if they 
could do that to someone, or have it done to themselves." 

"And to spice up the fair you could have challenges. Just imagine if I bet 
you that my Diane could take more than your Chrissy. We could charge people 
to be judges. Or punishers. Or just to watch which slave can take the most." 

"Picture it, Douglas. Our wives are bound at center stage. The building is 
oppressively hot with the packed customers. And step by step we take our 
wives through their paces. Whips, canes, weights, fire, needles and on and 
on." 

"We could collect bets as to who will last the longest before begging to be 
released. You could take the house share of the bets. You could sell their 
punishments just as you do for other castle services." 

"But the building couldn't be within the castle. It would have to be 
separate. With ample parking, which naturally you charge for." 

"When people pay for their tickets they could also rent a whip or a crop or 
a whatever to use on the victims of the night. But to keep it interesting, 
only have one show a month." 

"If offered daily or weekly it would become commonplace. And what I can 
envision is nothing at all like common." 

"And just to prove I'm serious, I will challenge you personally. Your 
opening night would feature Diane and Chrissy as the challenged slaves. What 
do you say? I'll even go in halves with you on costs and profits." 

Well, needless to say my master accepted my brother's challenge. 

It took almost a full year to chose the sight on our five hundred acre 
estate, build the theater and the other necessary items, such as the two 
acre parking lot. 

Three months before the scheduled opening night we started our publicity 
campaign and the reservations starting rolling in. 

Because of the size of the place, it was decided that four huge screens 
would be placed around the room to show what was happening on stage. 

Film crews were hired and videos of the event would be sold. Each patron 
would be given two drink tickets with the admission price and be limited to 
just those two drinks. 

We didn't want any rudeness. 

Three hundred could be seated in the theater. All surrounding the stage that 
was in the middle of the building. 

The admission price was $100 and we were not so prudish as to forbid our 
audience from finding sexual satisfaction as the evening progress. 

There would even be twenty female and fifteen male slaves from the castle in 
attendance for those who wished to purchase their services. Cash in advance 
was the rule. 

For two weeks before the opening night I was frustratingly unabused so I 
would have my full strength to call upon. 

We knew that my brother was totally serious when he made his own bet with my 
master-the loser would sign over half of his share in the theater to the 
winner, giving the winner control of the theater, and an additional bet of 
$250,000. 

The rules of the challenge were simple. 

The master's slave that begged to stop lost. Each slave was to receive the 
identical damage and would alternate in being first to receive it. For 
example I would be whipped, then Diane, then Diane would be say burnt then 
me. Back and forth. 

If a slave fainted she was considered the loser. Everything done was to as 
identical as possible including what the customers paid for. Minimum time of 
the challenge was to be three hours. 

The opening night finally arrived. The doors opened at 4:00. The "Slave 
Challenge" would begin at 6:00. 

By 4:28 every swivel chair in the theater was filled and the food caterers 
were doing a booming business. 

One hundred and seventeen people were denied entrance. 

By 4:45 one hundred people had paid for the upcoming video to be mailed to 
them as soon as it was available. 

James, Diane, Douglas and I arrived at 5:45 and entered the tunnel beneath 
the theater. 

James and Douglas were dressed the same in leather, skin tight pants and 
leather boots. 

Diane was wearing a full length sable that matched her black hair. 

I wore a full length chinchilla that matched my silver blond hair. 

We were a contrast of black and white. Beneath our furs we were both nude 
except for our rings (five respectively) and cuffs on our wrists and ankles. 

As we took our places on the round platform that would raise us to the 
center of the stage we could hear the announcer of the theater call for 
quiet and for everyone to take their seats please as the "Slave Challenge" 
was about to begin. 

The crowd hushed. The lights dimmed. 

The four huge screens were filled with the scene of the stage. 

Our platform began to rise, and I don't know about Diane but my skin was 
covered with goose bumps. 

As our heads came above the level of the stage floor I was blinded by the 
bright lights and my ears filled with the avid applause of our appreciative 
audience. 

With a click our platform locked into place. 

"Ladies and gentlemen may I present the challengers of the evening. Master 
James and his slave Diane." 

James gave a slight bow and took the fur from Diane. 

More applause, whistles and yells filled the room as I Mane took a bow then 
stood straight and tall in all her beautiful splendor. 

When the noise level died down a bit the announcer continued. "And Master 
Douglas and his slave Chrissy." 

I felt my master remove my wrap and greeted my own applause with a bow then 
stood straight and proud before them. 

"Welcome to the Theater of Pain. We hope that all of you will be thoroughly 
entertained as Diane and Chrissy challenge each other in a duel of pain. The 
rules of the challenge are simple. The first to beg for their torment to 
stop is declared the loser. And tonight the special word is 'Eagle'." 

"Each slave may use any other word during her torment. She may beg for 
mercy, say stop over and over, or any other word. But when she says "Eagle" 
she is admitting defeat." 

"To make sure that each slave knows the code word, would she please say it 
now." 

Diane and I both said "Eagle" and I'm sure that both of us prayed that we 
would not say it again before the night was over. 

"The only other way to stop the challenge is for a slave to faint. If she 
does faint she is again declared the loser of the challenge. If there are no 
questions, we may now begin." 

The room was totally silent except for some heavy breathing. 

"The equipment on stage has been tested. Each set is as equal as possible. 
The first piece of equipment to be used is the paddling machine. Please 
attach the slaves to their machines." 

Two identical paddling machines had been placed to our right. 

In front of them were two paddle horses that Diane and I were bound to. Our 
wrists and ankles were attached to rings in the legs of the horses. 

Our asses faced the paddling machines. The paddle machines were similar to 
baseball pitching machines, but instead of throwing balls they swung a 
wooden paddle. 

"The first to met the challenge of the paddling machines will be Chrissy." 

A chill went up my spine. 

"She will receive ten strokes at setting number one. Each stroke will be 
thirty seconds apart. The pressure per square inch on setting one is ten 
pounds per square inch." 

The first stroke landed on my tensed ass. 

The smacking sound filled the room along with the murmuring of the crowd. By 
the time the tenth one landed my ass was definitely tender. 

"Chrissy, do you wish to stop?" 

I shook my head. 

"Do you remember the code word? If so, say it now." 

I said "Eagle". 

"Now for the challenger." 

I turned my head to watch Diane get her ten strokes. She made no sound 
either. When the tenth stroke was over she too was asked if she wanted to 
stop and if she remembered the code word. 

And so we progressed our way through the paddling machines. 

Each of us received ten strokes at each of the ten settings. By the last 
setting our asses were receiving one hundred pounds of pressure per square 
inch. And every stroke landed in the same place for each one hundred 
strokes. 

Neither of us managed to get to the end in silence. We were moaning and 
screaming by the eight round but neither of us said "Eagle" except to 
confirm that we remember it. 

"You may release your slaves. The next challenge will be the weight 
competition. If you will kindly attach your slaves to the beams while I 
explain to our audience what is to happen." 

The beams were two huge twelve by twelve beams that were attached to hoists. 
Our ankle bands were attached to rings in the floor and our wrists to the 
beams. 

After each beam was raised to adjust to our individual heights Diane and I 
were held firmly in place in the classic X. The beams did not pull us off 
the floor but they stopped just short of doing so. 

"As you can see, either by being close enough or by one of the screens, each 
slave has five rings piercing her body. There is a ring in each of her 
nipples. A ring in each vaginal lip and one through the center of the 
clitoris." 

"Now you can see that each master is attaching a hook to each ring of his 
slave. Those hooks weigh four ounces each. During this challenge weights, 
each weighing a half a pound, will be hung from each hook in rotation." 

"Master James if you would select the first target. Then Master Douglas will 
place his the same, then he will select and Master James will copy. So on 
alternating back and forth. Please begin." 

Diane and I were back to back on the stage but there was a split screen in 
front" of each of us. 

The top half showed Diane as my brother hooked the first weight from her 
left nipple ring. I saw him slowly remove his hand and her breast pull 
toward her stomach. 

My master came to me and did the same as I watched myself on the lower 
portion of the screen in front of me. 

As my nipple took the weight I felt my nipple pull and my ass muscles 
tighten. 

My master whispered, "Left nipple again," before he slid the next weight 
onto the same hook that hung from my left nipple. As he eased his hand away 
I couldn't help but moan. 

I watched the screen as James did the same then place his next weight on 
Diane's right nipple ring hook. 

My master copied him then knelt down and I felt the first weight hang from 
my left cunt lip. 

And back and forth they went as Diane and I supported the weights by our 
rings. When the last weight was used we were both screaming our heads off, 
but neither of us screamed out "Eagle". 

Each of us had eight pound hanging from each nipple, five from each cunt lip 
and three pounds were pulling our clits several inches away from our leaking 
snatches. 

Our weights were removed and we were freed as the announcer informed the 
audience of the next challenge. 

"The next challenge will be the whipping from the audience. As the slaves 
are bound into place let me explain to the participants." 

"Many of you have paid for the privilege to whip the challengers. None of 
you were sold and odd number of strokes because you are to divide your 
strokes equally between the challengers." 

"So if you purchased, say, six whip strokes, you would apply three to each 
slave. You are to place them in the same places. For example if you whipped 
Diane three times across the breasts then our other three would have to be 
applied to Chrissy's breasts." 

"We ask each participant to try to use the same force and target for each 
slave. Our aim is to see who can stand the most pain, so try to be as equal 
as possible." 

"If it is judged that you inflict pain unequally, you will be denied the 
remainder of your blows or required to leave. If there are no more 
questions, we may now begin." 

"Would the person holding the green ticket number one please come forward?" 

Upon arrival the audience had been able to buy tickets to participate in the 
challenge. They paid for the number of punishments and for the area of 
application. 

For instance it cost more to whip cunts that it did to whip asses and the 
tickets were marked to show what and where that they had paid for. 

Diane and I had no way of knowing who would do what to us. 

Only the Punishment Master had a master list of how had paid for what and he 
was the sole determinator of the order of application. 

As Diane and I hung suspended from the beams again, our feet attached to the 
floor, we had no idea of what was to happen to us. 

The Punishment Master took over the micro? phone and began his job for the 
evening. "Ticket holder number one will administer five whip strokes to each 
slave, beginning with Chrissy." 

"Each stroke is to land directly across nipples. Number one please begin." 

I saw an average sized man approach me. 

He carried a three foot whip in his left hand. 

He smiled at me before he brought his whip back. An instant later the whip 
dug deeply into my previously stretched nipples with tremendous force. 

I screamed my head off. 

He did it four more times then did the same to Diane. 

He must have been fair because she screamed just as loud as I had. 

Number two was called to the stage, then three and so on. , 

Number two applied three whip strokes each to our paddled asses. 

Three landed four each on our breasts. 

Number four managed to land seven each on our spread cunts, fortunately we 
were standing upright and he couldn't get them all that well, but there was 
no doubt that our cunts had been whipped when he stepped off the stage. 

And so on they came. 

By watching the video later I know that Diane and I received 194 whip 
strokes each from the audience. 

We were anything but unblemished when the last whip was collected. 

A fifteen minute break was called after the whipping was over.. 

Diane and I gladly accepted the rest period. We were definitely battered and 
bruised. And both of us had come so many times that we had lost track of the 
number. 

We were given drinks and tried to find a comfortable way to relax while 
given the chance. 

During our break many in the audience took the opportunity to find some 
sexual relief, order copies of the film, or buy refreshments. 

I paid them scant attention. 

"The next challenge will be the challenge of piercing. If you would attach 
your slaves to the beams again we may begin." 

"Each slave will be pierced with various items and any part of their bodies 
may be pierced. Their own masters will place the piercing articles, again 
using a rotation. Master Douglas you may have the first selection." 

My master chose a safety pin and drove it through the tender skin in my 
right arm pit, pulled it all the way through and snapped it shut. 

Then James used an eight inch needle through Diane's stomach so that her 
navel was covered by the needle piercing skin on both sides of it. 

Next came a self-piercing ring to our left nostrils. 

And so on it went. 

We had needles, pins, little drilling bits that resembled cork screws, 
safety pins, rings, serrated clamps that cut into us and others covering 
most of our bodies. 

There were eighteen items in each of our tits, ten in our cunt lips, over 
twenty-five in our asses, three in our clits and so on. In total each of us 
were pierced identically over a hundred times. 

They hurt almost as much coming out as they had going in. 

We were given another break before the final challenge of fire. 

Viewing the video, I'm still amazed that neither of us had asked to stop. 
Neither of us could move all that well when we were bathed and ointments 
applied to our flesh during the final break. 

Both of us had almost totally lost our voices from our many screams but each 
could, if we dared, still say "Eagle". 

After over three hours the final challenge began. 

Again we were bound to the beams and floor as the announcer informed the 
audience that the instruments to be used on us would come from the same 
dispenser, whether it be one of the heated ovens, or from a burning brazier. 

Each item was to be times to assure equal amounts of heat. When he was done 
we began our final and most demanding challenge. 

Heat and fire are very potent implements of torture. But for them to be used 
on flesh that was already whipped, clipped, pulled and tormented was pure 
agony. 

Diane and I were anything but refreshed. 

We were drained, weak and in severe pain before the first heated rod 
connected with our abused nipples. 

As more and more of our skin was turned red and blistered the rules were 
changed. 

We were to be harmed simultaneously. 

Everyone knew that both of us were on the verge of total collapse. 

The bottoms of our feet, the tender skin behind our knees, asses, tits, arm 
pits, stomach and thighs were all blistered when the final area of our 
opened cunts was challenged with open flames. 

Our cunt hairs were singed way. Our entire mounds looked shaved. 

And Diane screamed out "Eagle" as James held the flame to her clit. 

The announcer confirmed her request to stop. 

Diane again screamed out "Eagle" in her weaken voice and James began to 
remove her from bondage. 

When my master whispered his request in my ear, at first I thought he was 
insane. But when he explained that it would confirm a unchallenged victory, 
I agreed. 

I don't know how, but I agreed. 

When James had freed Diane my master asked him to watch. 

James turned his head, the camera zoomed in, and all could see my master as 
he used the candle that had just burnt my clit slam into my opened cunt as I 
hung there. 

The flame didn't last all that long inside my soaked cunt but I felt every 
fraction of a second that it burned away within me. 

Then keeping the candle in me like a dildo, my master released me, bent me 
over on to my hands and knees and fucked my ass as the finale. 

The Slave Challenge was over. 

I had won, but somehow I didn't feel like celebrating. 

After the Challenge I was under a doctor's care for over a week. And it was 
sixteen days before I again was administered any pain, but my master was 
kind enough to fuck me several times during that period. 

The slave challenges are still held monthly at the theater and they still 
draw large crowds, but to date I have not participated again. 

Many people have suggested having a Challenge of Champions, but so far my 
master has refused. 

And my opinion? 

I would do it again if my master asked me. 


 THE END
