“Scream will you?” Ord asked. “I’ll show you what to scream about.”
Morgan watched each stroke slap the bony space between her tits. Red whelps the size of strawberries abounded over the stretched skin. The last swat broke the cane, evidence of the completeness of Ord’s work.
“Thank you, Master Ord, for your hard work. Shall we try this again?”
Ord unbuttoned his fly once again, exposing a fleshly rod so taut and straight it could have been used in place of the cane. Morgan unfastened the first clamp from Carla’s nipple. At Ord’s request, the second remained attached.
Carla felt the pulling at her nipple. She remembered the stretched look from her years breastfeeding her children. Strangely enough, she liked the feel of the weight on her tit. The elongated look of the nipple was tantalizing. The only wish she had was the return of the other weight. She felt unbalanced.
Prying her lips open with his dick, Ord forced Carla to swallow his many dick deeply into her throat. Pump after pump, Ord plunged himself deeper down, invading the space meant for breathing.
He would hold her close to his pubic hairs as she struggled for each breath of air. The putrid smell of too many blow jobs and not enough soap between filled Carla’s nostrils. With a rough hand forcing her head lower on his every stroke, Carla knew she would die if he didn’t cum soon.
To her relief, he did. This time, her throat filled with semen, but she refused to release his dick until she was sure nothing else could fall out. As a passing shot, she dragged her teeth across his now sensitive gland.
The look on Master Ord’s face offered Carla an advance notice of punishment to come. To her amazement, Ord forced his dick back in her mouth.
“Suck it.”
Carla pulled gently on his loose skin as she slid her lips up his shaft and back down. She tasted the salty brinish taste of his last present. He didn’t taste or smell any better. Closing her eyes, she thought of better days when all this was ahead of her and she knew nothing of Master Ord.
“Morgan, deep in her ass, please.”
Along her hip line, Morgan rolled his hands. She had felt this before. He was going to find the perfect spot to hold her while he drove his cock deep in her ass. She felt his hands grabbing at her hips and the long finger probing a little lubricant on her cheeks. Still sucking Master Ord as good as she could, she lost concentration and began to cringe as the head of Morgan’s dick pushed through her opening.
She hated that. Absolutely, she hated it. The taste was horrid. The feel of Morgan’s dick in her ass drove her crazy and not in a good way. She had messed up and she had to pay for it. It was part of her new world.
Master Ord came first in another explosion. She wondered, again, how he could come so much and so often. Morgan, however, didn’t last much longer. He never did. On the rare occasions he was allowed to help in punishment, he couldn’t hold out for long after the master finished. Carla wondered often if he just faked it.
Men faking it. That’s a switch.
* * * *
“
Take
her home, Thomas,” Morgan said as he loaded Carla into the back seat of the limousine.
“Right you are, Master.”
Thomas always met Morgan at the dungeon when Ms. Carla had been naughty. She loved the tender way he cared for her, getting into the car and then into the apartment. Often the bruises were dark and menacing. Many times she was so exhausted after a session with Master Ord that she was fast asleep when they arrived at her apartment some thirty minutes away. She trusted Thomas to be her caretaker.
Morgan never bothered dressing her for the ride home. That was fine with her. She liked the opportunity to cuddle up in the back of the limosine with him and the way he nursed her wounds as they rode home. Morgan also liked the availability of her breasts in those clothes. Always open at the breast and always available for a few suckles or nibbles, whatever the situation called for. Often his finger found its way into Carla’s cunt, slipping into the wetness created by all those punishments.
Thomas shifted the rear view mirror to catch the action beginning in the back seat. Morgan had already begun making her nipples a priority. It wouldn’t be long before her tattered panties would end up on the floor and Carla would find herself spread eagled in the back seat with Thomas and everyone else on the Outer Loop watching her master manipulating her clitoris to an orgasm.
Morgan gave Carla something more important than the humiliation of being exposed to the world with his backseat antics. She received a kind and gentle touch. After all the torture and punishment, Morgan was the one that offered her pleasure and relief from all that the world offered her. Her body was exposed to his soft touch and caring smile.
Morgan kissed her forehead with gentle butterfly kisses fluttering all over her face. He smoothed the wrinkles around her eyes as he licked away the salty tears she shed. Along her inner thighs, Morgan massaged the skin slowly and smoothly. Carla felt loved.
Neither was surprised that Carla’s strongest orgasms happened in the backseat of Morgan’s limousine. This orgasm was no exception. Her back, still crimson from the lashes, arched to meet his rushing fingers. Her lungs labored to supply enough oxygen to the body for such a force crawling up Carla’s spine. At the moment of peak excitement, Carla lost control of her speech and her juices, flooding the seat and carpet in front of her.
“That’s going to leave a stain,” Morgan muttered just loud enough for Carla to hear.
Morgan held Carla’s nipples tight until her shuttering ended. He kissed her again, more distinct than before. Plunging deep into her mouth, the two entwined their tongues in a frenzy of passion.
The slamming car door brought Carla back to the real world. Thomas was already preparing to escort her to her room when Master Morgan turned to address the two.
“Thomas, have her ready for a swim after dinner, would you?”
“Most certainly, sir. Should she be in her swim suit? Or are we skinny dipping tonight?”
“I think a suit would be appropriate, at least for the beginning. If I desire her naked later, I can have her strip for me by the veranda.”
Morgan disappeared into the night. Thomas helped Carla gather her things from the limousine before ushering her through the back door. The stairway was empty, except for a young couple too busy groping each other to notice a sharply dressed man and an almost naked woman slipping through the building.
The third floor hall, decked in dingy wall paper and out of date carpet, smelled of mold and stale cigarettes. The creaky door to Carla’s apartment slammed against the stops as Thomas tried to manipulate the handbag and two small cases through the narrow opening. Openly surprised to find the place straightened, Thomas laid the luggage on the floor before turning to Carla.
“I cleaned the place before I left,” Carla said.
“Ms. Carla, you know I always do that for you. You don’t have to work so hard for Master and then clean house,” Thomas stared at the ground as his voice trailed off.
Carla opened the fridge and fetched a cold drink. Rolling the bottle across her chest felt better than any of Morgan’s massaging. With the hot sting of all that caning subsiding, all that was left was the dull ache in her nipples and ass.
“Is my ass still red, Thomas?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t usually look at your behind.”
Carla walked in his direction, still rolling the cold bottle across her chest. “Oh, come on, Thomas. You know I see you staring at me in the mirror.”
Carla loved to flirt with him. She was bad, so bad he had to be careful not to fall for her tricks. Carla liked the punishment she inflicted on him. He may not have liked it, but she smiled through each session. A few minutes in paradise with Carla would net him punishment he could not bear. Just the thought of Thomas strapped to the cross and watching him strain at the ropes made her blush.
Master was evil. He enjoyed watching people in pain. Women he wanted to see struggle and fight the screams. He wanted men to take the punishment up to the point where they wished for death. Carla was sure that an employee would suffer unspeakable acts at his hand, ones to gruesome to miss.
“Perhaps a cool shower would sooth those bruises, Ms. Carla.”
Carla cast off her final bits of clothing as she walked to the bedroom. He waited until he heard the water splashing around in the shower before retrieving her clothes from Carla’s closet. The dress would be comfortable while still allowing Morgan full access to Carla’s privates. He chose accessible swim attire, as well.
Carla secretly watched Thomas fuss about with the clothes as she peered through the shower door and out into the bedroom.
Carla loved to watch Thomas in those few minutes of rest from caring for her. He flopped in front of the television. There were no phones ringing or people demanding his services. He could be himself, a sight she loved to study. She allowed him to eat what he liked, drink from whatever he found, and to rest in perfect seclusion while he waited for her to primp and become the vision Morgan demanded.
“Nothing on the television, again?” she shouted over the shower spray. “How is it that you have one hundred channels and no interesting programs on any of them?”
“Just lucky, I guess,” he shouted back. He hated those comments.
Emerging from the bedroom, Carla was gorgeous in her green dress. The back line exposed just a hint of the small of her back. The cut of the neckline attributed to the young lady’s cavernous cleavage. In this dress, Carla would certainly impress Morgan.
“There is time,” she commented. “Want to have a go at it on the table?”
A troubled expression crossed his face. She had found that blush in his cheeks again. She knew he wanted to take her up on those offers, but couldn’t. There was nothing she could give him that wouldn’t cost both of them everything they had worked for, his pension and her position in this relationship. She could start over. She didn’t know what Thomas could do if he lost this job.
Morgan had a family and children. All he needed was a woman to fulfill his every sexual desire, however depraved or indecent. Carla fit the bill. From the moment he found her walking the streets of Malboro, Carla decided she would satisfy all that Morgan could conceive.
“Have you taken your pill, Madam?”
Carla stared at Thomas with contempt. “There is no need. I think we shall make a baby and the pill would impede that progress.” She looked over her shoulder at Thomas with a gentle smile.
Thomas’ gaze followed her leg from her foot upward. Propping her foot on the coffee table exposed her dark bathing suit bottoms.
“We might as well have a go at it. If you plan to get pregnant, we shall both be out of a job.”
“Fine then. Grab a piece of couch, old man.”
She didn’t want him to give into her offer, as
having a go
would not be proper. Her world was of a kept woman. He was a gentleman’s gentleman, assigned to care for Morgan’s tryst partner. All the years of training and dedication to meeting those standards would be compromised in that one instant if they chose not to back down.
“Got no guts, Thomas?”
“Madam, my internal workings have no bearing on the situation.”
The door closed behind him as he made his way to the car. Carla watched as he drove the car around the parking lot to the front entrance. The drive gave her time to make it to the curb. She loved the way he watched her slide into the seat. Invariably, she would open her legs while maneuvering into the car, affording Thomas a view of her panties. On rare occasions, she would wear none and wait for his eyes to bulge.
With more deliberate motions, Carla slid into the seat, exposing her crotch to his view.
“Rocking the fur panties tonight?”
he asked. She slowly closed her legs.
A contemplative look covered his face as if he had something to say. He walked to the driver’s side of the car. Temptation overtook him.
“Don’t you think the master will notice the lack of swimming bottoms?”
She didn’t answer. A smirk crawled over her lips as she studied his reaction in the center mirror. He glanced back at her often as he made their way to the club. First, she straightened her dress and fiddled with her hair, getting both just like he liked her to do. The game was on, one they played often.
How far will she go this time?
Too far. Her knees spread wide enough to expose her hairy pussy to the mirror. With the dress bunched up around her waist, nothing was hidden. Her puffy lips and her wet, pink flesh shone in the mirror brighter than ever.
Thomas turned down Lincoln Street to avoid any traffic. The fewer cars they passed, the less likely that they would be noticed. He must have thought he wouldn draw less attention if he adjusted his seat to afford him a more relaxed view. He adjusted his seat to perfection, a small but important detail that let her see his face as well. With just a little lean to the left, she offered him the perfect view of her gaping cunt, a vision of delight she thought.
Finally, a red light at the corner gave both of them time to concentrate on the action. She kept her eyes fixed on his reflection in the mirror. Her nimble fingers walked along the outside of her lips, pulling and teasing the little hairs along the ridges. His dick must have sprung to life as she noticed him running his hands along his crotch. With slow, deliberate motions, Carla slid her fingers along the slit and down into the depths, pulling back a finger covered in liquids and glistening in the green light.