May/June 2002
The Depths of Depravity
by dark whisper


“Miss? Please fasten your seat-belt, we’re about to take off.” The voice was pleasant, if a bit mechanical - as if the words were recorded once and played over and over again.

Deanna fumbled for the clasp and heard the solid click of metal to metal.

~*~ Instant heat…soft moans as the restraints clicked closed, Master’s voice in her ear - “Relax, littleone.” ~*~

She shook her head at the flash of memory, and settled back in her chair. The engines whined as the plane started to move down the runway, leaving more and more of San Francisco behind. She felt the vibrations beneath her feet as the plane taxied to the runway - the turbines growling powerfully. Stormy blue eyes closing at the familiar tug in her belly as the plane began to gather speed and rise sharply. Then, the noise changed as the wheels lifted, and they were airborne.
Her eyes turned to the window next to her seat, and she watched San Francisco Bay expand beneath the plane’s silver body. Glittering blue and immense, the bay sparkled and drew her eye to the craft dotted over the calm looking water, and the traffic crawling down the long span of bridge between San Francisco and Oakland.

~*~ bright sun - her blouse open, bra off, as the convertible raced across the Golden Gate Bridge - the wind pulling her hair behind her as he drove - her skirt bunched up around her hips and her fingers wet and slick as she masturbated for him in plain view. Seeing the evidence of his arousal pressed against the material of his slacks as he drove with one hand on the steering wheel, and the other reaching over and pinching her hard nipples.~*~

She could still hear his voice ringing in her head from when he picked her up at the airport three days before. She heard the voice she knew so well from hours spent listening to his instructions, his concerns, his wild urgings, and his praise for the first time face to face, and her heart raced even still.

~*~ Michael’s smile spread over his face when he saw her step off the plane - dressed as instructed in a very short skirt, almost transparent blouse, and her “special” bra that he’d had her alter to leave her nipples completely bare, yet support her rather large tits. “You’re such a good little slut. You please me very much. Back straight, littleone . . . and thrust out those incredible titties of yours.” ~*~

She shuddered slightly and must have moaned, because the man seated next to her turned a bit to face her. His eyes took in the obviously unfettered tits with their hard nipples, as well as the long expanse of silk clad thigh. His gaze rose slowly, and he smiled.

She looked to her right wrist where her watch rested, and noticed the time - she still wasn’t quite used to wearing the watch there, but he had made that demand of her when they first began talking. He said it would remind her of who she was - and who she obeyed.

“Excuse me, Sir . . .” Her voice was slightly husky from the session she and Michael had had just before he drove her to the airport, which had left her screaming with pleasure and groaning loudly as she begged him for release.

The man rose to let her out of the row and watched appreciatively as she made her way toward the back of the plane, and the tiny restrooms. She looked back once, and saw him still standing there watching her. A knowing smile played over her lips as her eyes dropped and she saw the bulge growing in his slacks. Michael was right, the skirt was just the right length.

The restroom was just large enough for her to turn around in, and she chuckled at the low ceiling, thinking that it was a very good thing she wasn’t wearing her “fuck me” shoes - she would have had to duck. The suede mini-skirt crumpled lightly beneath her fingers as she raised it to her waist and reached inside her purse for the tube of lubricant and the butt plug. She laughed as she remembered the look on the x-ray technician’s face as they went into the airport terminal and her purse was scanned - and laughed again at the completely wicked look on Michael’s face at her rosy blush.

~*~ ”But, they’ll see it in the monitors when I go through the line!” Her face was a study of embarrassment and excitement all rolled into one. “Yes, littleone, they sure will. Is that a problem?” His voice was steady, sure of her reaction. “No, Sir . . . no problem.” Her nipples were aching with excitement. ~*~

As she eased the plug inside, she thought about how this all came about, and knew that she would never be the same woman who stepped off of the plane in San Francisco three days before.


“I have a surprise for you, Deanna. Look for a package to arrive in a day or two.” His voice seemed charged as it came across the telephone wires from clear across the country.

“Really? Um, care to tell me more?” Deanna was very curious about this, as he had never sent anything before.
He chuckled softly, and she felt her heart do the little summersaults it always did when he laughed.

“Now, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you about it, would it? Pinch your nipples for me . . . hard!”

Her fingers immediately fell to her nipples, where she pulled and pinched. There was no thought involved, just obedience. Her breathing changed, and a soft sigh slipped from her full lips. “Yes, my Lord. Mmmm.”

“Good girl. You really are a good little slut. Now, I need to go, but send me an email when you get the package, and let me know your thoughts.” There was that hint of controlled excitement in his voice again, and Deanna shivered in delight.


She opened the package two days later with trembling hands. Inside were two beautifully wrapped boxes and a long envelope. “Open last” was written in a masculine scrawl. Her heart beat quickened as she opened the first package and pulled out a butt plug that was bigger and softer than the one she’d always used.

“Ah, gawd,” she whispered, “owie.”

The next box was longer and wider, and she tugged on the silver ribbon carefully. Inside was a dark green silk blouse so sheer as to be almost transparent, and a sage green mini-skirt. She gasped as she lifted the rich material and felt the smoothness of the silk between her fingertips, watching the material flow over the back of her hand.

Finally, the envelope. One long fingernail slipped under the flap, and tore at the white seal. Inside was a plane ticket and a letter.

“Oh . . . shit.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she sat down and looked at the destination. San Francisco - in two week’s time.

The letter consisted of three words: “Come to Me.” Just those three words.

She made the arrangements.


The pitch of the plane changed, and she found herself scrambling to keep from banging into the wall. The plug was securely inside, and she stood there for long moments until the ache began to abate. Her anal ring was pleasantly sore from the use it had received over the past couple of days, and a secret smile curved her lips as she tugged the skirt back down over her bare ass and walked back up to her seat. She wondered idly what the man next to her would say if he knew that she had just inserted a butt plug, and was still wearing the Ben Wa balls Michael had inserted before they left his house for the airport.

~*~ She was bent over the arm of the couch, naked and dripping wet. His left hand was warm on her back as his right played up and down the smoothness of her outer labia. “Now, you will wear these until you get home from the airport. Exactly ten minutes after the plane takes off, you will go into the bathroom and insert your new plug. When you get home, go directly into your bedroom, remove your clothes, have your stir stick and the medium vibe with you and wait for my phone call. Understood?” His pushed the balls into her pussy one at a time. “Yes, Master . . . I understand.” Her voice was low as he patted her ass and sank his other hand into her hair, lifting her from the couch, and turning her to kiss him deeply. ~*~

As she settled back into her chair, she caught the scent of the man’s aftershave, and a jolt flashed through her veins. She turned startled eyes to him, and the knowing look in his eyes sent waves of dizziness through her entire being. It . . . couldn’t be?! She found herself studying him surreptitiously. Watching his hands, watching his lips as he sipped his wine. She caught his glance, and flushed deeply at being caught staring. Shaking her head, and turning again to the window, sure she had lost all power of reasoning.

She watched the landscape change beneath her. Amused at her thoughts, and wondering if every man she saw would make her speculate if he was the one.

The cabin grew dark as the plane raced into the night. One by one, the overhead lights flickered on as people began to read, or watch the movie. Her light remained off, as did the light of the man next to her. She felt her excitement rise, knowing that her next instruction was very, very dangerous. Part of her wanted to just pretend to “forget” about it, but the other part knew better than to shirk one of his instructions.

~*~ “When it is dark on the plane, I want you to reach under your skirt and touch your clit. In fact, I want you to have a very, very soft orgasm while you pretend to read or watch the movie. Do you think you can manage that, Deanna?” His voice held that sing-song quality that she knew so well, but underlying the slightly teasing tone, she knew he expected her to find - some way - to do it.

Her eyes went wide, but inside of her thudding heart, she knew that she would obey - as she always did. “Yes, Sir. I can manage it.” ~*~

She had roughly an hour and a half while the movie ran. Deanna shifted in her seat, deliberately rustling, deliberately making tiny noises to see if the man next to her noticed. She was relieved to see his face remain passive as he watched the glowing movie screen. Not even a flicker of his eyes toward her and her wiggling.

It was time. Long, cranberry tipped fingernails found their way beneath her skirt and to the inside of her left thigh. She watched the man carefully in case he looked over, but his gaze remained fixed on the movie. She began to relax, and drew lazy circles on the damp flesh. She knew that she was wet - had been wet since she got on the plane.

Her legs spread gently as her fingers drifted higher, until they encountered the slick outer labia. She was always slightly embarrassed about the shape of her pussy - it was too much like that of a child - full, puffy lips that completely hid her inner labia, clit, and deep cavern. But it was part of her, and she tried to accept what she considered her flaws. Her eyes flickered to the man, and she relaxed even more as she noticed his eyes seemingly glued to the screen. Her fingers slid between the lips.

~*~ “I want you to cum, Deanna . . . not just touch. And I want you to think about why you are doing this. For whom you stroke your pussy in a crowded airplane. I want you to be aware of who you are - what you are. Do you understand?” His voice was low, his eyes locked on hers.

“Yes, my Lord, I understand. I know who I am, and for whom I do this . . . for you.” There was no hesitation in her voice, rather a deep throbbing excitement found its way into the words as they flowed over her full lips. ~*~

She was wet, and already excited. She didn’t know whether it was the danger of being caught that was so thrilling, or if it was because she was submitting to him - still. She suspected the latter, but right at that moment, she really didn’t care.
Her eyes drifted closed as one finger stroked her aching clit. Long, easy circles around the tiny erection had her body tightening. She fought to relax, to make it last. Her thumb replaced her finger, and her index and middle fingers found their way into her hot pussy. Sinking deep on that first thrust, then withdrawing slightly, only to sink deeply again and again.

She forgot where she was, then the reality flashed through her mind, and her eyes flew open - to find the man’s eyes watching her closely. Too late. Unable to stop. Hovering right on the edge of orgasm - then tumbling over. Her eyes never left his as she jerked silently in the narrow airline seat.

His eyes darkened as he watched her body arch, then slowly ease back to the chair. Not a sound escaped his lips. He merely rested his head against the seat back - and smiled.

She was mortified that she had been caught masturbating in, to all intents and purposes, a public place. Her cheeks felt like they were glowing. Yet her eyes turned to him, a challenge in the deep blue depths. Almost daring him to say something.

“Nice.” His voice sent another jolt down her spine.

~*~ Flashes of voices. Men’s voices. Unable to see around the leather blindfold. Naked. Soft leather encircling her throat. Cool chain resting on the flesh of her back - ending in a leather strap secured over a masculine wrist. Nipples captured by the sensuously evil bite of clover clamps as another chain dangled between her breasts. Scents swirling in the air - men’s cologne, tobacco, sex. Her mouth stained a deep crimson, long fingernails painted to match. Long chestnut hair gathered behind her head and held securely in a strand of leather lacing. Warm flesh nudging her lips. A firm hand caressing the smooth curve of her ass. Michael’s voice from the left whispering to her. “Yes, that’s my little slut. Such a good little slut you are.” Absurdly pleased by the praise as her lips opened, and a cock slid into her mouth. ~*~

“It was . . . you?” Her voice almost a whisper as the words found sound and slipped from her throat.

“I’m sorry?” His eyebrow arched slightly, a look of puzzlement on his face.

She sat there for a long moment, then shook her head. She pulled her skirt back down over her thighs, covering the evidence of her excitement.

“Nothing,” she murmured, “I was mistaken.”

“You looked utterly beautiful just then, you know. With your eyes closed, and your body stretched taut. I know I shouldn’t have watched, but I just . . . had to.” His voice was low, seductive.

She laughed nervously, and turned away from his smiling gaze. Letting herself feel another moment of embarrassment, then shrugging it off. She would never see him again. They would get off the plane, and disappear in different directions.
Deanna closed her eyes and leaned against the cold window, letting her mind drift. Finding it once again turning to the night before.


“We’re having a little get together tonight, Deanna, and you are playing hostess. How does that sound?” His green eyes sparkled and a wicked grin played over his lips.

With him, she didn’t know what to expect. The past two days had been almost surreal. She had learned more from him in that time than she had learned from the entire time they had known each other through the telephone and the computer. He taught her how it felt to let the slut, the whore, out of the deep recesses of her mind.

“Mm, that sounds nice. I’m looking forward to meeting some of your friends.” Her voice was light, excited at the prospect.
Seven-thirty on the dot, Michael told her to hop in the shower and prepare. She knew that meant that she was to ensure that her pussy was baby soft to his touch, and the scent of perfume and lotion lingered after her every step.

She emerged from the shower glowing and soft. The thick hair tousled and wet. An hour later found her with shining hair falling in thick waves to the middle of her back, and a light coat of makeup. She stepped out of the bathroom, and saw a crimson robe laid over the coverlet on the bed. The robe was beautifully soft, and as she slipped it on, it draped over her lush curves like a lover’s embrace.

A tiny box also sat on the soft coverlet, and she smiled with the delight of a little girl as she picked it up and lifted the hinged top. Inside, was a set of gold clover clamps and matching gold weights.

Deanna picked up the fine chain and let it slide through her fingertips. Her mind was contemplating the meaning of the gift. Were they to be worn for the party?

“Put them on, please.” His voice startled her, and she spun around and smiled nervously.

“Um, Sir . . . now? Before I dress?”

His voice came again, low and firm. “Do I need to repeat myself, Deanna? Besides, you are already dressed, my little slut.” A smile finally pulled at his lips as she gasped.

“No, Sir. You don’t.” A million questions raced through her mind, but she didn’t voice them - trusting him to protect her. The clamps bit painfully into the tender nipples. He shook his head, and took them from her, applying them just behind the nipple - on the dark areola instead. “You can wear them longer this way, and trust me . . . you’ll be wearing them for quite some time.”

He pulled the lapels of the robe a bit wider, and stood back to take in her appearance. Another smile found its way to his mouth before he spoke again.

“Okay, Deanna . . . turn around and let me see that lush ass of yours. Bend over and grab your knees, sweetheart.”

She immediately did as he asked, bending over and flipping the hem of the robe up over her back, wiggling her butt just slightly in his direction. When his hands spread her cheeks, she wasn’t surprised. When she felt the cool jelly lubricant on the tip of his finger, she moaned slightly. When the press of the plug spread her star, she jerked and looked back over her shoulder at him - wide eyed and gape mouthed.

“Sir? You want me clamped and plugged for the party? Is it a play party?” Despite her fear, the excitement rose hot and instant through her belly.

“Of sorts, littleone.” He chuckled, swatted her once on her right butt-cheek, and flipped her robe back down over her now aching ass.

“Ah, just one more thing, my sweet. I forgot to mention that you’ll be blindfolded while our guests are here.” He looked at the shocked look on her face and drawled, “is that a problem, sweet slut? Is this beyond you?”

“N . . . no, Sir. Not a problem.” Her heart was now racing hard enough to leap from her chest. What the hell was she doing? She had known that he would push her limits, and he was definitely doing that. But beneath her fear, lay an excitement that defied all logic. A need that clung to her soul and reveled in his iron control.

The leather blindfold was cool over her eyes as he adjusted it carefully so that no light found its way inside. Enthralled by anticipation, her world went dark.

His voice came next to her ear, and she could hear the amusement coupled with something dark and excited as he whispered, “I’ve waited for you for a long time, and tonight is your night to shine. Just remember, sweet slut, to whom you belong . . . and whom you obey, hmm?”

“You, Master. I obey you, and belong to you.” Her voice shook slightly as she whispered the words.

“Very good. You do please me greatly.”

She felt the coolness of leather encircle her neck and heard the solid click of a padlock fastening it in place. Ah, God. The weight of the leash caused her nipples to harden even more under the bite of the clamps, and her pussy to throb pleasantly. She could not believe this was happening, it had to be some sort of a dream.

Blinded and leashed, she stood trembling in the bedroom. She could feel his warmth next to her, could hear his breath still close to her ear.

“Come meet our guests, littleone.” He tugged at the leash, and as sure as night follows day, her life changed forever.


The plane jerked suddenly in a pocket of turbulence and she jerked in her seat - yanked from her memories, and startling her for a moment until she realized that she was on her way home. Her mouth was very dry and she sipped at her wine slowly - letting it play over her tongue as Michael had shown her. She looked at her watch, and was surprised to find that only 15 minutes had passed since she had begun her journey backward.

She needed to move - to pace, or prowl might be a better word. There was an animal inside that needed release. But there was nowhere to go in the metal cylinder as it pierced the sky. Her fingers clenched on the armrests as she took deep breaths, and tried desperately to relax.

“Are you okay?”

The voice belonged to the man next to her. The man who had watched her bring herself to orgasm just a short time ago. She flushed, embarrassed anew at the thought of this stranger seeing her at her most wanton display. She had forgotten him as the movie played on the screen, and another played behind her eyes. Now, there was no way to ignore his presence.

“Yes, thank you. I’m fine. I just started feeling a bit restless is all.” She gave him a quick smile, and took in his features. He could not be considered handsome, but there was something arresting about his appearance. “I’ll be fine. Once I get off this plane, anyway.” Her lips twisted wryly, and he smiled before he nodded and turned back to the screen.

She watched him covertly, something dark tugging at her mind . . . and her belly. There was something about him that plagued her mind. Something familiar. She shook her head, amused at herself, and her too-vivid imagination.


The blast of sound reached her ears as Michael led her out of the bedroom and into the hallway leading to the living room. She followed closely, her hand on his arm as she followed the tug on her leash. God, she was nervous. Her fingers trembled on his arm as she tried to control the skittering of her heart.

His voice was low, only carrying to her ears. “Okay, my sweet - there are four of my friends here with us. Men I’ve known for a very long time. I will ask things of you, and I expect you to obey me. We are going to see just how much of a slut you really are. If it becomes too much for you, tell me, and everything will stop immediately. But I know you will not disappoint me. Will you, littleone?” His hand caressed her flank under the silky robe.

She could barely hear his words over the throbbing of her heart. They had been working for months to get to this point. He had made her expose herself to strangers, to discover the depths of her slutty nature. But now, he was here, and it was her choice. Submit - or run.

He waited silently for her to come to grips with herself. To plumb her soul. To fight the repression instilled by years and years of conditioning to hide, to only show this side in the privacy of her home with one man. The whore fought with the good girl inside. She struggled in her mind. Unsure that she could do this. Until she felt the slow slide of moisture on her inner thighs. No matter how much confusion filled her mind, her body . . . wanted.

“No, Master. I won’t disappoint you.” The words found their way into the air, and she felt an instant calm envelope her as the decision was made. She would submit as he knew she would.

“Good girl,” he purred, and the pressure returned on the leash, “you please me so very much.”

She knew her cheeks were pale with fear as she allowed him to lead her into the living room. She had no idea if the room was brightly lit or dim. She was aware of the sound of Vivaldi oozing from the speakers scattered around the large room. Aware of the muted sounds of masculine voices.

She was suddenly petrified as she stood trembling next to him. Waiting for something…not sure quite what, but she new that there was no turning back.

“This is Deanna. She’s a little nervous, so we’re going to let her get her feet under her for a bit before . . . well, before anyone may touch her. And NO ONE may touch unless I am right beside her, and give my permission. If that is not acceptable, please leave now.”

His voice was firm, and Deanna shivered at the iron beneath the smooth surface of his voice. She heard the murmur of assent as four individual voices floated to her ears. She began to relax slightly at the assurance that he would not leave her side - would watch and protect her.

He led her to a chair, and eased her into it. A glass of wine was pressed into her hand as she settled into the cool leather. Her hand trembled only a bit as she lifted it to her lips and gulped at the sweet wine. She heard Michael’s chuckle as his hand closed around her fingers and stilled her hand.

“Easy, pet. No need to gulp. Sip it slowly.”

She felt herself easing deeper into the chair as the conversations resumed, and no touch found its way to her body. Little snippets of sentences caught her ear.

“. . . had her? Where can I get . . .”

“. . . chat site, but be careful, all aren’t . . .”

“. . . tits are incredible. Real or . . .”

She became completely disoriented as she sipped her wine. The loss of sight causing her to lose all sense of direction. It almost felt as if she were floating.

Deanna jerked slightly as the leash pulled upward. Suddenly, the room seemed to go quiet as she followed the pressure, and stood. She was no longer terrified, and was free to feel the excitement that suffused her soul as she gained her feet.
Hands, she assumed they were Michael’s, tugged at the satin tie of her robe. She felt the material loosen and flow over her flesh as the ends were dropped. She was aware of the cool air playing over her chest and stomach as the robe fell behind her, leaving her nude but for the collar, leash, and nipple clamps.

Murmurs, indistinct and garbled reached her ears. She flushed deeply. She was not comfortable with her body. At times, she hated the heavy breasts, the fullness of her stomach, and even the pale lines radiating outward from her navel which showed clearly that she had borne two children. She was mortified that these unseen eyes were staring at her naked flesh. She wanted to hide - to crawl away to someplace safe and away from the hot gazes. She pulled back, curling her torso as her hands came up of their own volition to hide her smoothly shaven sex, her body.

Strong hands gripped her wrists and pulled her hands back to her sides as she whimpered in embarrassment.

“Shh, littleone. You are a beautiful woman - strong, elegant. Your body is wonderful, and you have nothing to hide from.” His voice was low, hot in her ear. She felt the weight of her breast lifted as he cupped it warmly in his hand. “Stand proud, my sweet slut.”

His voice sunk into her mind and her heart, allowing her to relax. She nodded to him, and whispered, “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

He led her slowly around the room. Stopping every few steps and urging her to turn slowly. The first time she felt another’s hand, she jerked slightly, then relaxed at Michael’s warm touch on her neck.

Some of the hands were warm, some cool. Some were work roughened, but most were smooth against her flesh. They slid gently over her thighs, inner and outer. They cupped her ass, they patted it and stroked the deep crevice between her globes. One actually pushed gently at the end of the plug, causing her to suck in her breath as the plug shifted and her muscles clenched at the silicone.

It seemed that there were far more than four men. She felt as though there were twenty, thirty, as he led her around the room. The touches became bolder, stroking her more firmly. Michael’s voice was in her ear almost constantly, giving instructions to shift, to bend.

“Open your thighs, my sweet. Show him your beautiful pussy.”

She became more brave as she relaxed, spreading her legs at his urging. A finger stroked her labia. She knew the finger came away slick and wet. She imagined the finger being brought to a nose, and then to lips.


The pitch of the engines changed as the plane banked and turned slightly once again bringing her back to the present. Suddenly, she was aware that she was gently rocking her hips in the seat, aroused, aching inside. Her skirt had worked its way high on her hips, and her pussy was exposed. She looked down at her lap, and then back over to the man in the seat next to her. He no longer even pretended to watch the movie. His eyes were glued to her pussy.
Her hands reached down to tug at her skirt, and he spoke. His voice was raw - husky.


His eyes were glazed, his stare intense as it met her eyes. She looked at his crotch and saw the evidence of his arousal pushing against the straining material of his pants. His hand was curled in a fist next to his erection, as if it wanted to grab hold and ease the ache inside.

That voice. Familiar, yet not. She closed her eyes and allowed her fingers to find her pussy. Knowing that he was watching, but too needy to care. Michael would be proud.


Finally, the parade had ended, and Michael spoke quietly. The music continued to play in the background, but the voices were all silent. She knew they watched her. Watched her every move.

“Kneel, slut.”

She felt the world tilt from under her as she heard his voice. That voice that always made her obey instantly, without conscious thought. She dropped to her knees. Thighs spread, back straight as her hands clasped loosely behind her head, breasts thrust forward. The clamps jingling softly. She was his slut, and she was proud of the fact.

His hand tugged the chain between the clamps, and she cried out from the quick flash of intense pain. Hot blossoms of agony flared through her as the blood starved nipples jerked. She whimpered as she tried to escape the pain, but another quick jerk of the chain had her shrieking softly.

“Ow! God! Sir!” Tears stung her eyes even as her pussy reacted in pleasure.

Another jerk. She gasped, then thrust her chest forward, as if to say, “more, give me more.”

“Yes, such a slut you have become. My slut.”

The wet tip of his cock pressed against her lips, and she lapped at the bead of pre-cum clinging to the silky head. She took him into her mouth, stroking her tongue over him, lapping at the thick column of his shaft. His fingers tangled into her hair, pulling her into his crotch. She was off balance, and lunged forward, taking his cock clear into her throat in one long thrust.

Cool hands on her back, stroking her as she pleasured her Master. The hands moved over her heated flesh, pinching here and there. They settled on her ass and pushed her gently forward, so she had no choice but to put her hands down on the floor to support her weight. A cool finger found its way between the puffiness of her labia, and sinking deeply into her tight, wet tunnel. She moaned as she sucked Michael’s cock faster. Her blood boiled in her veins, heating her inside.
“Make her cum.” Michael’s voice was thick as he spoke to the man behind her.

The man added a second finger, plunging them deeply into her soaked cunt - twisting and thrusting deeply. From the angle, she could tell it was the man’s left hand as the fingers curled inside, and his arm rested on her ass. The first touch of his tongue on her clit had her jerking in pleasure. Michael’s cock thrust evenly in and out of her clinging mouth. Fucking her face as the man fucked her cunt with his fingers. It felt surreal, as though it was a wildly erotic dream that she did not want to end. Caught between two men.

The tongue flicked over her clit, causing her to lurch forward with every pass. And when his lips closed over the tiny nub and sucked, she exploded. Michael’s cock thrust deeply into her mouth as she shuddered and trembled. She felt him twitch in her mouth and prepared for the hot, salty streams of semen just as they spewed from the tip of his pulsing cock. She swallowed greedily, aware that yes, she was a slut, HIS slut.

His familiar groan, loud and intense, filled the air as she sucked him, never stopping until his hands yanked her head back from his crotch. The man behind her sucked her juices as she continued to shake and quiver.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, men’s hands, tongues, cocks found their way into her mouth and pussy. The plug stayed inside her ass, sometimes being shoved deeper as some faceless man slammed into it as he took her pussy.
Some time during the evening, the clamps were removed, and she screamed in agony as the blood flowed back into her nipples. Warm hands rubbing, causing even more pain as the circulation returned. She cried, she writhed in pain as the blood pounded into her swollen, tender breasts. Michael holding her as she sobbed, cooing into her ear that she was a good girl, he was proud of her.

She found herself bent over the seat of a dining room chair, and cuffed to the legs. Naked, trembling, the wood digging into her tender tits, her hips. Hot flashes of wonderful pain as hands landed hard on the flesh of her ass. Spanking her, rubbing, spanking again and again. Another cock to her lips, spreading her lips and plunging into her sucking mouth.
Someone entered her pussy and fucked her as she sucked. His cock was hard, but slender. Not Michael. She didn’t know who. The panic began to rise inside of her. Where was he? Then his voice came in her ear once again.

“Yes, littleone. Yes, such a good slut.” His hand was in her hair, pulling it back and tying it away from her face, away from the man’s cock as it slammed into her mouth, fucking her there as another fucked her pussy.

Time lost all meaning, as they used her body. Hands over her, stroking her, slapping her ass, her pussy, her thighs. Probing fingers, swollen cocks, hot mouths, sucking and licking.

Sudden heat as the leather of a crop struck her ass. She moaned loudly around the cock in her mouth, her ass squirming as it fell again, biting into her flesh. Fireworks behind her eyes. Vivid color in the blackness of the blindfold. Her hands clenched around the leg of the chair, holding herself still as the crop fell rhythmically. The pain brought even more excitement. Every nerve ending was alive, aching, stinging, screaming for release as the leather struck her thighs, her ass, her upper back. Harder and harder it fell, whistling through the air before landing with a loud pop on her flesh.
The cum squirted against her tongue, and she swallowed fast, drinking it as she wiggled and squirmed. Finally, the unknown cock left her mouth and she cried out as the crop landed between her legs on the swollen, red flesh of her labia and clit.

“Yes! Oh god, Master!! Your slut… God… Your slut needs to cuuuuuuuuuuum. Please! Please! Masterrrrrrr.”

She was jerking uncontrollably. Her body tight, muscles clenched.


As he watched from his seat on the plane, the man pulled his cock from his pants and gazed at the woman squirming and whimpering next to him. He knew she was lost somewhere far below, and was not even aware of the soft noises issuing from her throat as her fingers plunged in and out of her dripping pussy. She was wild and sexy.

His hand curled around his rigid pole and stroked himself firmly, his eyes never leaving the tall woman with the heaving tits and the widely spread legs. Her excitement carried to his ears, and his eyes locked on her plunging fingers. He wondered how much more she could take before her body arched and the fluid flowed.


“Cum, slut. Cum for me, for your Master.” His voice came from behind, and she knew it was him wielding the crop.
Her body went rigid. Arching as far as the restraints would allow, bucking and screaming out as the orgasm ripped through her with the force of a tidal wave. Electricity pulsed through her, her limbs jerking in response to the intense jolts. Finally, her body eased, and she went limp - draped over the chair.

“Master,” she croaked out the word, “thank you.”

“Ah, you sexy bitch. Such a slut. Such a wonderfully sluttish whore.” His voice seemed to throb in the air.

She felt his fingers spreading her ass-cheeks, pulling carefully on the plug in her anus. She bore down, helping it to slip from her. Relief flooded through her as the end cleared her sore star.

“Whose ass is this, slut?” His hand landed on the fiery skin of her ass.

“Yours,” she gasped.

“Yes,” he practically purred, “and whose pussy is this?” Three fingers probed deep inside of her raw pussy.
“Yours, Master.”

“Good girl. Who are you?” The voice was firm.

His other hand settled into her hair, pulling her head up by the roots.

“I . . . am your slut, your whore. I am your plaything. I belong to you, to be used by you and whomever you want to share me with. I am your playtoy, your fucktoy.” She was sobbing out the words.

“And if I tell you to strip in the middle of a crowded mall, what would you do?” His voice was calm as he curled his fingers inside of her pussy, savagely pushing more of his hand into her.

“I would . . . strip, Sir. Please…” She was choking on the words, needing something…something.

“Please what, littleone? What do you want? Do you want me to stop? To release you?” Sing-song, cooing behind her.
“Noooooooooooo,” she whimpered.

“What then, slut? What do you want? Say it.” Another finger inside of her, stretching her muscles painfully.

“My ass . . . please. Fuck my ass. Please, Master. Please . . .” Incoherent. Her voice strangled by need and tears.

“That’s my girl.”

His cock entered her ass in one smooth stroke, pushing both her and the chair several inches across the highly polished floor. She snarled in pleasure and screaming, clawing pain. He took her ass almost violently. Long, deep thrusts. His hands digging into the flesh of her ass as he fucked her hard and deep.

She had forgotten about the others until she felt a hot, hard cock pressing her lips. Michael’s hand was still buried in her hair, pulling painfully at the roots as he took what belonged to him.

Her lips opened and was filled at both ends. She was limp, only able to receive. They used her completely, as she wanted, as she needed.

Other voices, urging voices came to her, and she realized that they surrounded her. The cock in her mouth was replaced by another, then another, and another still as Michael relentlessly fucked her bowels. Taking her, taking his property with a vengeance.

Her last coherent thought before she slipped into space was that they were cumming on her, in her, over her back and face. She slipped away.


She slumped in her seat, shaking and trembling as the plane droned into the night. Spent from the orgasm that seemed to rise from her toes and scream through her blood. Her breath came in shallow gasps as reality returned. She turned her head just in time to see the man next to her expel his seed into his cupped hand.

Her eyes rose to his, and blue locked with gray. A smile passed between them as he raised his hand to her lips and she licked the warm cum from his palm and fingers.

She slept.

The cabin lights and a soft, feminine voice roused her from her exhaustion. Eerily echoing the start of the flight.

“Miss? Please fasten your seat-belt, we’re about to land.”

There was a soft blanket over her lap, and she nodded as she shifted in her seat - very aware of the plug in her throbbing anus. She reached beneath the blanket and adjusted her skirt, shooting the man a grateful look for thoughtfully covering her exposed body.

He merely nodded as he fastened his belt and the plane began its descent. She was mortified now at what had occurred. She had actually licked this man’s seed from his hand. Her face was crimson as she thought about it.

They filed off the plane at the airport. She tried to hang back, to hide herself from the man as he strode down the passageway, but the press of humanity behind her made that impossible and they walked off together.

At the gate, he turned to her and pressed an envelope into her hand. She raised startled eyes to his. He guided her to a nearby seat and leaned down, close to her face.

He winked and spoke only so she could hear. “Michael is one very lucky man.”

As he walked away, she tore at the envelope. Inside was a plane ticket and a letter. The ticket was for a month’s time.

The letter consisted of four words:

“Come back to me.”

Her eyes glittered as she whispered to no one at all. “Yes, Master.”

© dark whisper - A Dark Whisper of Sound