"God, Sheryle, why are you dressed like that?" exclaimed Michael. The youth was still naked but he had been cut down. Now he was simply chained to a ring in the floor, the other end of the chain fastened to a collar on his neck.
"You like it?" she asked, spinning around to show off her sexy, kinky outfit. "Mr. Stanton thinks I look good in it."
She saw the way Michael's eyes had widened when she came waltzing into the room. She still wore the corset and stockings. The garter belt framed her pussy mound neatly. She had learned to walk in the high-heeled shoes given to her by their mysterious captor. Sheryle felt sinfully sexy. And used.
Every time Stanton came into the room, he fucked her. He would do it whether she wanted to screw or not. The girl's wishes meant nothing to him. And she was coming to enjoy it even as she hated it. The idea of being nothing but an object appalled her, but she loved the fucking. The feel of a good cock driving hard and fast and expertly into her twat was unmatched in her experience.
How she wished it had been Michael who had first fucked her. She still didn't know who it was in that darkened room but she guessed it was one of Mr. Stanton's games. He played games all the time. Sometimes he would dress her up like a wild animal and pretend he was a big game hunter.
Eventually, after chasing her around, he would catch her and fuck her. Another time he had beaten her with the whip until she was almost senseless. This had been the time when he had gotten off the best, she thought. His cum shot into her cunt like it had been fired from a cannon.
She should have loathed the man, but she couldn't. Amid all the pain and horror he brought her, she found herself admiring him. He was such a dominant figure. He knew what he wanted and he took it. She hated that and loved it at the same time.
Sheryle couldn't figure out exactly what she felt toward the man. He was everything to her, a father and a lover – and more. He disciplined her when he thought she needed it, and she was coming to agree with his decisions. That frightened her because she knew she was being used.
"Dressed up that way," said Michael, "you look like a cheap hooker."
"Nothing cheap about me," she snapped, immediately regretting her words. "I'm sorry, Michael. I didn't mean that."
"God, this whole thing is ruining both of us. We've got to escape. We just have to."
"Yes, yes, anything. Michael," she said, wondering if she really meant that. She didn't want to stay, but leaving presented problems of its own. She couldn't go back to her parents. They would laugh at her and say she had gotten what she deserved. That was if they even believed her. More likely, they would accuse her of lying. This entire adventure was so bizarre she hardly believed it.
A man in a mansion. Fucking in the total blackness of a posh bedroom. Being dressed up and whipped. Being chained and raped. Being abused, sucking on his cock only to have him come in her face. Getting pissed on.
That had bothered her the most. She had enjoyed the fucking, as she always did, but then Mr. Stanton had stood up, his legs on either side of her body and pissed in her face and on her lustrous red hair. It had been so degrading she had wanted to die.
But she was subservient and respectful the next time Mr. Stanton came to her room. He had left her alone for what seemed months, only an occasional tray of food being given to her as if she were some sort of leper.
The on-again, off-again treatment she received from the man bewildered her. One day she would be convinced the man was madly in love with her. The next, he would piss in her face.
But he was so commanding. When he spoke, she listened. He was so forceful, she wanted to obey him. He was unlike any man she had ever met, including Michael.
"If only I could get free," the youth said. "But I've tried. This lock looks simple, but it isn't. I'm going out of my mind trying to get it loose."
Sheryle saw immediately that there was no lock. Rather, a complicated puzzle had been substituted. If they could work out the sequence, the entire puzzle would fall apart and free Michael.
"It seems so complex," she said after studying it for a moment. "I wonder if it's not really simple. That's the way those puzzles are, you know."
"No, I don't know," said Michael, pissed at her. "Why the hell don't you show me?"
And she did. The chain came free in her hand with only a little work. The ease with which she had undone the lock amazed her.
"You did it!" cried Michael. "And that son of a bitch seems to let you run free around here now. We can leave, both of us!"
She frowned, wondering what was wrong. Stanton usually kept her locked in the posh bedroom. But lately he hadn't even been chaining her. She had decided to see if her bedroom door was open, and it was. When Stanton said nothing about her excursions around the mansion, she had grown bolder.
Why had her status changed? She shrugged it off. It didn't matter. Maybe the man didn't think she had the nerve to escape. But hearing Michael, she knew she would. He lent her the strength needed to make the decision.
"Let's go, Sheryle. Now!"
They were an odd looking pair. She was dressed like a high-class whore and he was stark naked. Running through the deserted corridors of the mansion, they saw that the main door was open. Running for it, Michael found the door slammed in his face just as he reached it. Some automatic mechanism had closed it, locking the door securely.
"Damn, what's with this fucking thing?"
"Michael, look!" said the red-headed girl, suddenly frightened.
Advancing on them were two of the most vicious-looking dogs she had ever seen. She couldn't take her eyes off the dripping fangs, now bared. The dogs herded them back up the stairs, snarling and snapping hard at their heels. By the time they reached their room again, the dogs had vanished.
But in the room was Mr. Stanton, a frown on his face.
"You should not try to escape. The next time the dogs will rip your throats out. Consider yourselves lucky that this time I will only punish you."
"Says you!" screamed Michael, launching himself at the man. The youth found himself hurtling through the air to land heavily on his back. Stanton had used a judo throw to effectively stop the teenager.
With movements more like a snake, Stanton soon had Michael chained flat to the floor. Spread-eagled, the youth was unable to move.
"Suck on his prick and get it hard. If you don't, I'll flog the flesh off both of your bones!"
The whip crashed into Sheryle's ass, sending a jolt of pain all the way through her body. She knew the welt raised on her soft, white ass would stay for weeks. She had other welts on her shoulders and back which had been there at least that long. They didn't leave permanent marks but seemed to take a painful forever to go away.
She dropped to her knees and bent over to take Michael's prick into her mouth. She whispered hotly to her boyfriend, "I have to do this. Otherwise he'll kill both of us!"
"Ummm, oh," moaned the youth. "In other circumstances, I'd like this. But I can't get it up. I just can't!"
"Obey me!" flared the dark man. The whip lashed out and smashed into the soft ass of the girl bending over her chained boyfriend. Her sucking increased greatly. Cheeks going hollow under the strain, she tried her best to get Michael hard. If she didn't, Mr. Stanton would whip them both till they died.
And she found herself feeling guilty over trying to escape. She wanted to please the man, not escape. She shouldn't have listened to Michael! But they were both being punished together. Sheryle knew that it would do no good to appeal to Mr. Stanton for mercy, protesting that Michael had forced her to go along with him.
The man just wouldn't believe her. And if he did, he would still delight in whipping her. She knew the feral gleam that came to his eyes when he used the whip. It was unnatural – but it was Mr. Stanton's way.
Her tongue began teasing along the sensitive underside of the youth's limp prick. The flaccid organ began to stir, in spite of Michael's protests that he could never get a boner now. When the twitching became more pronounced, Sheryle really sucked.
Her lips caressed and tormented Michael's cock. Teeth bit down and left ragged red welts behind. This hurt, but it also caused his body to pump more and more blood into his cock. She had learned a lot since coming to this mansion of chains and whips. And not all of it was bad, either. Anything that could give pleasure to both of them couldn't be bad.
She found herself responding to his prick. The male musk odor was rising and the tangy taste of his prick spurred her on to even more exotic oral acrobatics. Her tongue danced and lashed and toyed with his prick, all the time sucking harder and harder on him.
"He's ready," said Mr. Stanton, moving her face out of the way with the butt end of his whip. Michael's prick stood rigidly at attention, pulsing and throbbing in subdued lust.
"Get on him and fuck yourself," the man ordered. "And do no touch your ass or you will be severely punished. Severely!" he emphasized.
The girl shuddered. She knew punishment. She could only guess at severe punishment. And she wanted to avoid that, whatever the cost. What Mr. Stanton demanded, though, wasn't all that impossible. All she had to do was fuck herself on Michael's delightfully rigid cock and not touch her behind. So easy.
So easy until Stanton rammed a candle up her asshole. She screamed in pain as it went in. She screamed again when he lit the candle. The hot wax dribbled onto her tender flesh and burned like fire. The heat from the flame promised even more pain to come from the hot wax. Involuntarily, the teenager reached back to pull the candle from her ass.
A quick lash of the whip stopped the motion. He had snared her wrist with the tip of his leather strap. The pain in her arm was intense, but the pain was only a reminder. Worse would come if she touched her ass. Or the burning candle.
More wax dripped onto her whipped butt.
"You may put the candle out by rapid motion of your hips. In no other way will it be allowed to go out."
"You mean if I fuck myself fast enough and blow the candle out that way, I'll be okay?"
"Fuck yourself!" he commanded.
She put her hands under Michael's armpits and rested her fingers on the tops of his shoulders. His mighty pillar of cock pressed warm and demanding into her snatch. She lowered herself until the thick knob on the top of his prick entered her pussy. She shivered at the touch. It was electric. And her entire body screamed out its need for more of that cock.
The only trouble was the candle stuffed up her ass. It hurt bad. And the heat from the flame kept the wax molten and dripping on her tender ass. She began moving back and forth faster and faster, fucking herself and trying to snuff out the candle by the motion. It didn't work. If anything, her fucking action only caused the candle to burn hotter.
The wax tormented her but the real pain came from deep in her guts. The thick cock drilling deeper and deeper into her pussy with every stroke rubbed up against the candle, separated only by the thin inner walls of her pussy and rectum.
"Shit," muttered Michael, "I can feel it! I feel the Goddamn candle through your guts. How can you stand it?"
She was whimpering like a beaten dog by now. She couldn't stand it. And his mentioning it made it even worse for her. She felt like dying, but she wouldn't give that son of a bitch Stanton the pleasure of seeing her croak. The teenager vowed to keep fucking and to try to ignore the pain.
It was like a New Year's resolution – but it wasn't kept.
The redhead twisted from side to side, feeling the prick work even farther into her seething pussy. She would have enjoyed the hell out of this fucking if it hadn't been for that damned candle. It began to melt a little from her inner heat, but it wasn't enough to ease the discomfort.
"Please, take it out!" she cried.
"The cock?" asked Stanton coldly. "Or the candle? Which do you want removed from your slimy body holes?"
"Both!" she cried. "No, neither… oh, I don't know." She was too confused to continue. Limply falling forward, her hands pressing down into Michael's heaving chest, she simply cried.
She wasn't allowed to cop out like that. The whip screeched through the air and landed heavily on her back. Over and over, Stanton whipped her until she was sure her back was a mass of welts. But she didn't stir. The motionlessness of her body kept the candle from grating against her guts. The worst part of it was Michael's prick. It throbbed so needfully inside her tight twat that she had to respond to it. She began to move, the whip scourging her back.
"Fuck faster!" cried Stanton. "Fuck him as fast as you can or I'll ram a blowtorch up your ass!" She believed the man. He was cruel and vicious and would do that just to make sure that he got his own sick kicks. She began sliding to and fro, the prick entering and leaving her tight cunt with obscene squishing noises. She hadn't realized she was this turned on.
The girl looked down between her tits and saw the coppery patch of her pussy mound. It was dotted with tiny droplets of cunt oils. And just underneath, she could see her cunt standing rigidly at attention, begging for more stimulation. As she moved, the red-haired girl saw the way her boyfriend's prick entered and left her cunt.
Her breathing became more jagged at the sight. The huge prick parted her cuntlips. The pink scalloped flaps of flesh guarding her inner channel seemed to give a lewd kiss to that prick as it raced into her pussy. When the cock came out of her cunt hole, it was a silvery sheathed fuck stick. Her cunt juice totally drenched it and made it gleam in the dull light of the room.
All this, and the goad of the whip still landing with sickening regularity on her back, forced the teenager to speed up her fucking.
Worst of all, she felt herself responding strongly to all this. It wasn't just Michael's prick in her cunt that did it. She loved the feel of it, sure, but there was more. And she didn't understand it.
She wanted the whipping. She wanted to be dominated. The humiliation and pain Stanton gave her fed some inner need. The young teenager couldn't begin to put it all into words, but she thrilled to the feel of his whip disciplining her. The heat of the candle raising blisters on her ass now kept her hips swinging in and out in obedience to the man's command.
The red-haired teenager needed this as much as a flower needs sunshine. She reveled in the attention Stanton gave her, even if it was terrible. The whippings she received were dreadful. The pain caused her almost to black out at times, but the man had never really injured her. Given her pain, yes, but her body healed soon and left no permanent marks.
She didn't know how lucky she would be in that regard when it came to the burning candle protruding from her ass. It had continued to burn down and the flame leaped and danced just inches away from her vulnerable flesh. She fucked herself as hard as she could in a vain attempt to make the flame go out. If anything, she only fanned it to even greater heat.
Weeping, she felt the tides of passion rising within her. Her pussy throbbed and began the slow convulsions that would soon lead to the catastrophic clutchings of a come. Her fingers became claws. She raked bloody fingernails along her boyfriend's chest.
But Michael wasn't in any condition to protest. His balls were burning from the fucking – and from the hot wax was dribbling down off the girl's ass. He had thought she was faking a little as to the pain. He now knew it was worse than he had believed possible. The lightest of touches of the hot wax sent tremors of pain rocketing throughout his body.
"God, Sheryle, fuck more. More!" he cried out. "Get rid of that Goddamn candle. Now!"
"Yes, Sheryle, fuck more," taunted Mr. Stanton. "Go on and be a good little girl and obey him. Fuck more."
The sound of the man's words infuriated her, but she was powerless to do anything about it. She could only move and drive that rigid spike of cock into her needy cunt. The squishing of his prick as it raced all the way up into her well-oiled pussy gave her an idea. Fluid could put out the candle burning so close to her flesh now.
The tempo of the fucking picked up to the point where she thought she would melt inside from the friction. The pressure of hard cock against the walls of her pussy mounted as Michael's cock expanded just prior to jetting out his white cum.
As she felt the first jerk of his cock, she shoved herself as far forward as she could. Her aim was a little off but it didn't matter. She cheated herself of the pleasure of feeling his fountaining prick inside her pussy, but she gained something else.
The first spurt of his cum hit the flame on the end of the candle, extinguishing it. There was a wet hiss and then she smelled the wick smoldering. And the heat was gone.
She was no longer menaced by the burning candle rammed up her ass, but she had cheated herself in another way. She was hornier than hell from the fucking. She hadn't gotten off, not once, and the intense sexual needs in her body demanded satiation.
Sheryle realized that she wasn't likely to get the chance to feed her sexual hunger any time soon.