Games people play

[Chocolate Thai]

The towel feels like a soft piece of heaven between my legs compared to the wickedly sharp edge of the horse but the pain is still there. My sex still throbs and aches and I can feel the pressure of the pointed edge pressing against it even through the thickness of the folded fabric.

 He tells me what I have to do in order to get off the horse and I stare up at him dumbly for a moment as his words register in my mind. I quickly weigh my options...and realize just as quickly that I have none. I wouldn't make it another minute on the horse, much less fifteen or twenty. As much as the thought of asking him to touch me and of even having his hands on me period makes me feel physically ill...I'll have to do it if I want to get off of this device intact.

I quickly try to think of a body part that would appease him...one that I could stomach having him touch.

My thigh? No, I'd tried something like that the last time and he'd been pissed...besides, he'd said I only get one chance at this and I don't want to risk upsetting him and having him leave me here. I could let him touch my ass...but I shudder when I think of his hands and fingers anywhere near my sore, swollen, sex...That leaves my tits. I don't want him touching me there either, especially after the way he'd cruelly pinched and twisted my nipples the last time...but there is nothing else I can offer that I think he'll accept...at least nothing else I am willing to offer.

My face burns hot with shame as I prepare myself to ask him to touch me and I lower my head so that I don't have to look into his eyes when I do it. I try hard to keep the disgust and hatred out of my voice and keep my tone soft and respectful, reminding myself that the only reason I'm doing this is to make the pain stop and get off of the horse, which is getting more uncomfortable to sit on by the second, even despite the towel.

 It takes me a few stuttering tries to make it through the request, but finally I am able to get the humiliating sentence out of my mouth.

"Master...would you...I-I mean, please...would you...touch my breasts?"

[Sprayman]

“Well, you blew it Missy!”

“I really should take the towel and go get some coffee. The only reason I’m not is that 15 minutes on the horse might kill you and would certainly destroy your clit at the very least. Get it through your head… I can touch any part of you I want to touch… any way I want to touch it… for as long as I want to touch you! That’s the only thing you could say that would make sense. You are mine! Your body is mine!”

I know she’s already uncomfortable. The towel isn’t helping much now and in another minute or two will be almost as painful as the uncovered plastic. I also know that ten minutes on the horse will do real damage to her clit. I want her to hurt and destroying that little nerve center will reduce her ability to feel pain!

“I’m going to get you down, but I’m not going to hurry doing it. Maybe by the time I’m finished, you will finally understand. I own you! I can do anything I want to you. Get used to it!”

I disconnect one of the carabiners and drop Missy’s ankle. Her foot still can’t reach the floor and she isn’t going to kick as long as she is on the horse. She’d probably faint if she tried. She starts moaning from the pressure by the time I step around and disconnect the other carabiner. I don’t drop that foot however. Instead, I pull it back behind the horse’s legs while I reach and catch the first foot I freed. Pulling it behind the legs as well, I connect the two carabiners together.

Missy is screaming again and begging me to get her down. She even calls me Master once or twice. Standing up, I take hold of her arm and then reach out for the winch control. Pressing the ‘down’ button, I slack the cable until I can get her off the horse. When there’s enough slack so that her shoulders won’t dislocate, I take her other arm and finally lift her completely off the crossbar. Staying clear of her feet in case she is stupid enough to try a two legged kick, I set her down on the floor on her ass with her legs fastened together and sticking out in front of her. Standing up, I push the ‘up’ button and put some tension on her wrists.

“Now then slave let’s see if you’ve learned anything. What parts of your body can I touch…?”

[Chocolate Thai]

I suck in air sharply through my teeth and bite my bottom lip to stifle a cry of pain when my sore and swollen bottom makes contact with the hard wooden floor. Before I can roll over to one side and alleviate the pressure, he presses the button to make the hook attached to my cuffs go upward. I groan in discomfort when the weight on my bottom shifts as I'm forced to lean forward slightly to lessen the strain on my aching shoulders.

Again, he asks me what parts of my body he can touch. My last answer hadn't been good enough for him, even though it had taken everything in me to force myself to offer him even that much.

 What he'd told me while I was on the horse isn't true and I don't give a damn what he says. I am not his. I'm a person and he can't own me...can't just make me into a slave because he says so. I'll never 'get used to it' as he'd said. I'll never just accept the fact that I belong to him, that I'll never be free of him, or the Judge, or anyone like them...And the only reason he can touch me, is because I can't stop him from doing it...at least not yet. I can see that this is all part of the training he keeps mentioning. He's trying to break me down, make it easier for him to control me...well it won't happen. I can't help but be afraid of him. He's a sadistic lunatic after all, but along with being terrified of him...I hate him. And every time he hurts me, all it does is just makes me want to kill him even more.

 I want to tell him this. I want to yell all these things and more up into his egotistic face...But I hold my tongue. I have enough sense to know that right now is not the time to argue with him about what he so obviously thinks is true; not while he has the upper hand, not while I'm so weak and in so much pain, and definitely not while we're in this room and he has so many torture devices here at his disposal.  No...For now, I'll make myself go along with what he says and simply tell him what it is I know he wants to hear.

"Any part..." I say, through gritted teeth, keeping my head down to hide the look of contempt on my face. "...You can touch any part of me you want."

[Sprayman]

“Well… you got that part right! Trouble is… you forgot the proper address. I guess there isn’t any hope for you. Maybe you need something to remind you how to address me. Something that will always be there, like tying a string around your finger. I have an idea… and I’m sure there will be some here somewhere. Stay here… I’ll be right back.”

Missy probably can’t stand up with her wrists still connected to the hook on the winch cable. Even if she can, her ankles are close hobbled. She isn’t going anywhere. Back to the shelves on the front wall and it only takes a minute to find what I’m looking for… a set of clover clamps… connected by a light weight chain about 15 inches long. Next to the clamps are some weights marked one – two – and three ounces. I’ll use some of those later, but for now, the clamps will do the trick. I’ll attach the leash to the chain and walk my new slave that way.

Returning to her with the clamps hanging around my neck, I open the restraint bag and take out the hobble strap. Setting it for a length of about 12 inches, I attach it to the ankle cuffs but leave the carabiners hooked together for the present. Then I look at Missy.

“Remember what I told you will happen it you try to bite me again. I will knock out your teeth… one at a time! You told me a couple of minutes ago that I could play with your tits and that’s what I’m going to do now.” I crouch behind her, reach under her armpits and cup her breasts. She flinches badly but can’t move away and can’t bite me because my arms are too low. All she can do is sit there squirming as I gently play with her tits. I lightly roll and tug the nipples, which respond by stiffening and standing proudly out, coming fully erect as I manipulate them. Her tits like what I’m doing even though Missy is almost hyperventilating. She gives a soft moan… and this time I don’t think it’s from pain!

When her nipples can’t get any harder, I’m ready to attach the ‘reminder’ for her. Letting go of her tits, I stand and step around her, straddling her legs and sit on her thighs. Before she has time to think about an attack, I grab a handful of her hair and pull her head back until she is looking into my face. Taking one of the clamps I squeeze it open, place the rubber padded jaws on either side of Missy’s nipple, and let the jaws close. She gasps as the jaws exert pressure. Wasting no time, I apply the second clamp to her other nipple and this time she groans.

“You might be able to pull these off but I doubt it. The harder you pull, the tighter they get. They will slip at some point, but might strip the skin away when they do. You will probably pass out before that though! This is your reminder. Unlike the horse, we can leave these on for a while. Sooner or later, you’ll go numb, but I can fix that. This is to remind you how to address me”

“Now… let’s get you on your feet and over to one of the benches. All of this foreplay has made me horny. I think I’ll fuck you in the ass first today…!”

[Chocolate Thai]

My heart rate speeds up when he turns away from me and walks over to one of the shelves lined with countless strange and frightening devices that I've never seen before. I watch as he glances over the shelves' contents and then slips something around his neck before returning to where he'd left me. As he works at adding some type of strap to the cuffs on my ankles, I take the opportunity to look at what he'd picked up. I warily study the gleaming silver chain and the two identical objects that hang from it. I have no clue what it could be, but I have no doubt that whatever it is, it'll be something that causes me more pain.

My speculations are put on hold when he announces that he is taking me up on my earlier offer and then crouches behind me to begin playing with my tits. Instinctively, I try to pull away from him but with my arms suspended by the hook, there's no place for me to go. His hands and fingers are deceptively gentle, teasing my sensitive nipples into an erect state almost lovingly with soft tugs and light caresses. They are still slightly sore from his fingers and teeth and every nerve in my body is screaming out in fear that any second he'll twist them again as he'd done the night before. A few moments later when they are shamefully hard and tingling from the stimulation, he releases them and stands. I close my eyes and exhale with relief that only lasts a second before he steps around me and painfully yanks my head back. A yelp of surprise escapes my lips and my eyes open wide and meet his for a moment. I watch as his gaze travels from my face to my breasts and in the next instant he painfully clamps down on my rigid nipple even harder than he had the previous night.  I gasp, and my body tenses, expecting him to twist the sensitive nub as he'd done before, but instead, I feel him clamp down on my other nipple and I groan at the sharp, crushing, pain. He straightens up, releasing his grip on my hair and I immediately look down at myself to see why my nipples are still in agony even after he's let go of them.  My eyes stretch even wider and I gasp in horror when I see that the intense pain isn't at all being caused by his fingers as I'd thought.  I realize now that the object hanging from either end of the chain around his neck had been some sort of clamp and the bastard had attached them to my nipples!

I barely hear him talking as I moan miserably and stare down in dismay at the shiny silver clamps that are causing shock-waves of intensely sharp and crushing pain to course through my aching nipples and radiate upward throughout my trembling breasts.  In a panic, as the sharp pains caused by the clamps steadily continues instead of subsiding, I shake my shoulders, jiggling my tits in a desperate attempt to shake them off, but to my alarm, the pain only intensifies as the clamps and the chain between them sway back and forth with my body's movements and seem to only get tighter still. Whimpering with hurt and defeated frustration at this latest evil trick, I open my mouth, ready to beg him to take them off, when he matter-of-factly announces that he's going to fuck me in the ass first today. I blink up at him in stunned silence for a moment before erupting into hysterical sobs at the thought of being raped again.

"Nooo!" I cry, shaking my head at him as he stands over me.

The clamps painfully pull on my nipples with every shuddering sob that courses through my body, effectively reminding me of what I need to add to my plea, even in my state of despair.

"No, Master...please...please don't!"

[Sprayman]

“Looks like my reminder works pretty well. It only took a second for it to remind you to call me Master. Next though, we’ll have to work on you keeping your mouth closed unless I tell you to talk. One thing at a time, I guess. Can’t expect a slave to learn everything right away. You’re also going to have to learn that no is a word that slaves don’t use much. Especially when they’re talking to their Master.”

“However, you did learn the right way to address me, and that’s something. Since you apparently don’t want me to fuck you in the ass first, I guess that means you’d rather I fuck you in one of your other holes first. Normally, I don’t let my slaves make those kinds of choices, but to show you that I’m a reasonable Master, I’ll at least listen to which hole you want fucked. I’m not promising I’ll do what you want but I will listen.”

Missy is almost hysterical, sobbing and shaking, with tears streaming down her cheeks. There’s still a lot of defiance in her but I’ve made progress. Breaking a woman is a process. It doesn’t happen all at once. Instead, it’s a slow and gradual thing and I’ve moved a little closer just now.

“You have three holes. Which one would you prefer I fuck first today? I picked your ass.” To give my question a little emphasis, I reach down and give the dangling chain on her chest a gentle tug. I’m rewarded with a short shrill scream!

 “You pick your choice. Mouth… or cunt…?”

[Chocolate Thai]

I stare up at him, shaking with pain and anxiety. My blood runs cold and my mind reels in turmoil as I realize that no matter what I say, or what I do, he's going to rape me again... right here, and right now. I feel like I'll go insane just thinking about it...And his offer for me to choose which hole for him to rape, only makes it worse.

How can he expect me to make such a decision? I'm still trying to deal with the shame of offering him my tits to play with, still trying to stomach the fact that I now have no choice but to call him Master...I'm still dealing with the pain and humiliation of the first assault...How can he expect me to essentially give him permission to rape me again?? ...To actually tell him how I want him to rape me again??

I can't do it.

My mind won't even let me begin to weigh the options, because they aren't actually options at all. Even if my pussy wasn't swollen and sore from last night and the ordeal with the horse...I could never offer it to him. Even if my ass didn't still horribly ache from the last time he'd viciously forced his cock into it...I could never willingly give him that either. And as much as I'd love the chance to bite him, regardless of what the consequences might be, he won't give me the opportunity...I know that if I offer him my mouth he'll just put another jaw cracking gag in it and fuck my mouth through it like he did before...and then I'd be left to deal with the fact that the cum I'd no doubt end up swallowing again was a result of my own idea...my own choice.

No, I can't do it...He's going to take what he wants anyway, and I might not be able to stop him...but I don't have to let him shame me any further by offering up parts of my body for him to violate.

He coldly looks down into my tearfully pleading eyes, waiting for a response that I'm too afraid to give; knowing that as soon as I tell him that I won't decide, he'll make the decision for me...and then the brutal anal rape will begin. I shudder at the thought and then grimace in pain as the nipple clamps bite down in response to the slightly jarring movement. After another moment, too afraid to stall any longer than I already have, I attempt to answer him.

"I-I...ca-" I begin, but the condemning words catch in my throat and stick there.  "I c-can't-" I try again, but get the same result.

Finally, unable to force the words out, I simply lower my head and miserably shake my head 'no' in denial of his offer to make a choice, instead.

[Sprayman]

“Damn it! I just told you no wasn’t a slave’s answer to her Master. You think that shaking your head no will be OK! That’s the same as saying it. I’m going to have to teach you another lesson.”

“Judge, do you have a couple of guys that would like to help me fuck Missy here? I’m thinking about having her take on three guys at the same time. I’ll do her ass, but I’ll need someone to do her mouth and cunt. Maybe that will teach her to stop saying no to me!”

The Judge’s voice replies, “I can find some help for you Max but it may take a little while. There is an all-staff meeting starting in ten minutes, so we will be short handed for about an hour and a half. After that, I’m sure there will be plenty of volunteers. Until the meeting is finished, I just don’t have the men in this building. As I told you, most of our staff is located some distance away.”

“That’s OK Judge. It doesn’t have to be this minute. I’ll find something to occupy the time.”

The look of horror on Missy’s face as she listens to my request is priceless!

“I’m not the jealous type. Once I get you home, you’ll be servicing all of my field teams when they’re off duty. That’s twenty guys and six girls. A couple are married and may pass but most of them are single so you’ll stay busy. You didn’t think I was going to be your only Master, did you?”

“Now let’s stand you up and get the rest of the restrains on you. That way, you’ll be ready when the staff meeting is over.”

I take Missy by the upper arms and lift her up onto her feet. Her ankles are still close hobbled with the carabiners only allowing three or four inches of movement. The movement causes the chain to sway and tug on her nipple clamps and that causes her to gasp and moan from the pain. Unsnapping the winch hook from the handcuff chain, I let her hands drop. She isn’t going to run.

From the restraint bag, I take out the wrist cuffs and fasten them on her wrists above the handcuffs. Then I remove the belt and begin to fasten it around her waist from the rear. My hand brushes her side and she flinches almost violently from the contact. It looks like she is extremely ticklish. That could be fun!

When the belt is in place and fastened, I fasten two carabiners to the hip-mounted ‘D’ rings but leave them unlocked for now. I’ll lock them after I have her wrist cuffs attached. First though, I have to find a handcuff key. Mine is still up in my luggage.

“Stay here. If you try to walk, you’ll fall and may get hurt.”

At the front wall, it only takes a minute to find a handcuff key. The keys for all the major brands are interchangeable. As I walk back, I stoop and pick up the rope I used for a leash. I tie it to the chain connecting the nipple clamps. Missy moans at the movement and increased weight.

“Slave, I’m going to remove the handcuffs and attach your wrists to the belt. Take a second to imagine what it will feel like if I pull hard on the rope. That’s what I’ll do if you fight or try to hit me!”

Standing behind her, I pull the belt around a bit so I can fasten one of the carabiners to the ‘D’ ring on her left wrist cuff and let it lock. Then holding the chain of the handcuffs, I unlock that wrist from the metal cuff. Pulling the belt around to its correct position, I fasten the other carabiner to the right wrist cuff and let it lock as well. Lastly, I remove the other side of my metal cuffs and put them in the nylon bag the restraint s were in.

“Now then, how ticklish are you?”

Then I dig my fingertips into her sides, just above the nylon restraint belt…!

[Chocolate Thai]

Every time I think things can't get any worse he always finds a way to prove me wrong.

I stand there numbly as he works on getting the restraints the way he wants them. His conversation with the Judge and his revelation of what I will be doing when we get back to the states, play over and over in my mind. I try not to imagine it, try not to think of what will happen when the staff meeting ends...And after that, what will happen when I am taken to his home...But my mind keeps coming back to it, and I wonder how I'll survive any of it without losing my mind in the process. Not even the sharp, pinching, pain of the clamps digging into my nipples as he ties the rope to their dangling silver chain holds my attention for more than a few moments before the words and frightening images of what is to come begin to cycle through my mind again, and I begin to feel dizzy with fear and dread.

A moment later, though, these and all other thoughts are vanquished from my mind when he starts to tickle me. I gasp and immediately jerk away from his touch, but his fingertips continue to dance across my hyper-sensitive skin. Small desperate cries escape my lips as I thrash wildly to escape the awful sensation. The uncontrollable giggles, that I know will escalate into full on stomach cramping laughter if he doesn't stop, start to rise from my throat and my unemptied bladder quickly becomes a problem.   Not caring about falling or the sharp pains shooting through my nipples with every movement I make, I begin to thrash wildly and cry out for him to stop in between gasping fits of laughter that are steadily growing in intensity...

[Sprayman]

Missy’s response to my fingertips deliberately digging into her ribs is nothing less than spectacular! I’ve never seen a woman more ticklish. Lucky for her, I have both hands in play and am able to grip the oversized ‘D’ rings on the restraint belt. Otherwise she would have gone down in a heap on the dungeon floor. Of course, it’s a mixed blessing, because I’m also able to continue tickling her ribs!

Her spasms are as strong as a Grand Mal seizure and she totally ignores the pain of the nipple clamps. The weight of the leash falling from my fingers as I take hold of the ‘D’ rings pulls on them cruelly. Giggles quickly degenerate into peals of uncontrolled laughter and gasping pleas to stop. Her laughter is infectious and I begin to chuckle myself but that doesn’t stop my fingers from playing over her supersensitive ribs.

I’m not ticklish, at least not very much. I respond to a poke in the ribs, but my response is more from self defense training and not from a pleasurable sensation. My response may also dislocate your shoulder! Come to think of it, I’m not sure what Missy is feeling constitutes pleasurable either! She seems to have completely lost her breath and I’m sustaining the full weight of her body as her encumbered feet flail wildly!

Then there is the little matter of her missing a trip to the bathroom this morning…!

[Chocolate Thai]

It's been years since anyone has tickled me unmercifully this way and my responses to the overstimulation are still the same as they'd been when I was a child. My brothers always thought it was absolutely hilarious to torture me with laughter until I cried...or worse.  And horribly, this seems to be his intention as he continues to tickle me despite my thrashing and pleas for him to stop.

l feel his fingers starting to travel up into my armpits and I know that I'll completely lose it at any moment. The deep belly aching laughs get progessively longer and more breath taking by the second and my stomach tightens and cramps painfully. Soon, if the tickling continues, the laughter would intermingle with gasping sobs of pain and I'd no doubt lose what little control I have over my bladder along with my ability to even speak as the hysterical convulsions wash over me.

"Master!!! Please...Stoppp!  I gasp and helplessly dissolve into miserable peals of laughter again before finally catching my breath.
 
 "Let me go to the bathroom!!...Master pleeeease!!"I manage, the panicked words barely understandable already. "I'm gonna peee!!!"

[Sprayman]

Missy’s choking laughter is interspaced with almost unintelligible words as I move one hand toward her armpit. I do hear the word Master several times… and then she gasps out her need to pee. I look around as I briefly stop the tickling, not out of compassion, but because I don’t want to have a mess to clean up later. Normally, I’d make Missy clean up any mess she made but she isn’t broken yet, and I’m reluctant to release her restraints.

One corner of the dungeon has a shower stall and a commode, along with a sink.

“So… now you want to pee. A little while ago, I offered to let you use the bathroom and all I asked was for you to show some respect. What did you do? You told me to go to hell. Why should I let you go now?”

I do stop tickling her as I talk however. I’ll let her use the commode but it will be on my terms and schedule. Once she has regained some composure and is steady on her feet again, I stoop and disconnect the carabiner holding her ankles together. The hobble strap is still connected so she can’t kick. As I stand, I pick up the rope attached to her nipple clamps. Now that I’m not tickling her, the movement causes her to moan softly.

A soft tug on the rope as I say, “Come on if you need to pee.” Then I walk toward the corner containing the commode. Missy shuffles along behind me. A few feet from the toilet, I stop and take up the slack in the rope leash. Missy ends up standing just two feet from the toilet she wants to use.

“Now then slave, there’s the toilet. I’ll let you use it… as soon as you tell me which hole you want me to fuck. Use the proper address and ask me very nicely to fuck one of your holes.”

“Or… we can stand her until you piss on your legs and the floor. Then you’ll have to lick it up. You have one minute to decide… then I start tickling again…!”

[Chocolate Thai]

My relief is almost palpable when the tickling finally ends. The insane laughter instantly dies on my lips and I find myself gasping for air and softly groaning in discomfort from the resulting stomach cramps, and the stinging pain in my nipples which has been made considerably worse by my wild thrashing.

As he kneels in front of me and again works at the cuffs imprisoning my ankles, I gently bite my bottom lip and stand awkwardly with my thighs pressed tightly together, fighting the nearly overwhelming urge to pee and trying hard to regain some of the earlier control I'd had over my bladder.

 When he starts across the room, I follow him as quickly as the new strap connecting my ankles will allow, wanting to keep him from tugging any harder on the rope tied to the dangling chain of the nipple clamps, and also hurrying to get over to the white porcelain bowl that discretely sits in one of the room's far corners.  When he stops a few feet from it and turns toward me, I look up at him quizzically, my eyes flickering between his and the toilet for a moment as I eagerly wait for him to speak so that I can get on with relieving myself.

 Again, he requests that I tell him which hole I want him to fuck. And again, I balk at the question; immediately deciding that maybe peeing on myself wouldn't be quite so bad after all...until he goes on to tell me that I'll have to lick up the mess afterward...and then I know that this time, I'll have no choice but to answer him.

 I rack my brain for a moment, desperately trying to decide the lesser of all three evils, and I finally come to the realization that having him put another gag on me and use my mouth for his sick pleasure would be much less traumatic than having him inside my most private spaces again. I know that he'll eventually force himself inside me again at some point anyway, but at least I'll be able to postpone the inevitable for a little while longer...and it is surely better than licking up my own waste off the filthy floor if I choose to say nothing at all.

I hastily speak up before the time limit he's given me can expire and remember to keep my voice as soft and respectful as I possibly can, despite the fact that the words and the idea of what I'm about to ask him to do sicken me to no end.

 "I choose my mouth, Master. Please...fuck my mouth..."

[Sprayman]

“See, that wasn’t so hard. You could save yourself a whole lot of trouble and a whole lot of pain if you’d just do what I tell you. Go ahead… take your piss. Do whatever else you need to do while I’m in a good mood.”

Giving Missy some slack, I let her sit awkwardly down on the toilet. On the wall behind the commode are several eyebolts. Threading the end of the rope leash through one at my shoulder height, I tie off the leash. She can’t get her hands that high, so she is restrained until I release her. I step away and take my time looking around the dungeon. Stepping away isn’t for Missy’s sake, I just don’t have any desire to watch or listen to her using the toilet. I’m also waiting to see how long it takes her to realize she can’t wipe!

Wandering through the dungeon, I can’t help but admire it and the equipment it contains. The layout and range of devices is nothing less than spectacular. A great deal of time and effort, not to mention money, went into building it. Some day maybe, I’ll own something like it. One thing that caught my eye was a bench holding a TENS unit and a Violet Wand case with about ten attachments. It’s the most complete system for electro play that I’ve seen.

Another thing I found was on a shelf on the front wall. It’s a metal leash, like a dog leash, but with a locking carabiner in place of the usual snap clip most animal leashes have. It must be titanium or some space age alloy because it weighs less than the rope I’m using now, but seems much stronger. It’s about six feet long and has a miniature carabiner on each end as well as a wrist loop on one end. The entire leash weighs only a couple of ounces. I bring it back to Missy who is still on the commode and looking longingly at the unreachable roll of toilet paper on the wall. My nose informs me she used the toilet for more than pee!

Showing her one of the carabiners as I tell her, “These take two hands to open once they’re locked… and it isn’t really easy even with two hands. I’ll let you have one hand to finish up what you’re doing after I replace your leash with this one.”

Untying the rope from the nipple clamp chain, I attach the carabiner in its place and fasten the wrist loop to the eyebolt with the second carabiner. Missy is attached to the wall, and while she might be able to free herself, given enough time, it wouldn’t be either quick or easy. There is a trick to releasing the clover clamps on her nipples too, and I doubt she knows it. Then I reach down and release the carabiner that connects her right wrist cuff to the restraint belt.

“Now you can wipe slave. I hope you didn’t think I was going to do that for you. By the way, if you try to get loose, I’ll slap you silly! Be good and I may let you get a quick shower before the other men get here. Try doing what you’re told for a change and see how much easier things can be. Do you want a shower…?”

[Chocolate Thai]

Having to use the bathroom in his presence is humiliating, but it has to be done. I do feel a little better when he steps away, but then I realize that there's no way for me to clean myself, and even if there was...I can't reach the toilet tissue anyway.

'Dammit!' I curse silently, my face which is already burning hot with embarrassment, getting hotter still.

I'm trying to think of what to do or say when he walks back over to me holding another metal chain. I'm relieved to hear that he's going to free one of my hands but I look over the new metal leash warily, thinking it has to be even heavier than the rope and will pull harder on my poor nipples, but I keep my concerns to myself.

I wince as he removes the rope, each movement of the clamps' chain reigniting the fiery pain in my nipples, but I am thankful to find out that the metal leash is actually lighter than the rope had been.

Finally, he frees my hand, and in my current predicament I only have one thing on my mind...and it's not trying to get free. I nod anyway when he warns me against trying it and at the mention of the other men, my stomach does a sickening flip. With all the tortuous tickling and the urgent need to relieve myself, the reality of what is still about to happen had been pushed to the back of my mind. But now it's back, and so is the mind numbing dread. When he asks if I want a shower, though, I nod eagerly at the opportunity to finally wash and let the hot water relieve some of the tension in my aching muscles. I answer him quickly, remembering to address him the way he wants.

"Yes, Master. I do want a shower...may I take one, please?"