Fulfillment Page 2

  Once I was as she wanted me, Rosemary grabbed the front ring of my high collar pulled me toward the back door of the house. We covered the distance quickly, but as we moved up the rising ground I caught my first glimpse of the long, white sand beach in front of the beach house with the lovely blue-green ocean beyond. My mind had great difficulty coping as this was a beautiful spot, perhaps a vacation destination, but I was certain Rosemary did not intend for me to think of this as a vacation.

  Opening the back door, Rosemary pushed me inside with enough force to make me tumble to the bare wooden floor. I was in some kind of an entryway or porch off the back of the house and the door inside was open but no lights were on so it was too dark to see inside.

  “I’m going to remove your gag before I dress you in the things I want you to wear. Be aware this doesn’t mean you may freely speak. You will say nothing unless I ask you to. My instructions are always precise so questions should be unnecessary and you will always follow my instructions to the letter with no exceptions. If you do not your punishment will be swift and excruciating, I promise.” She smiled as my ball gag came out. Then she surprised me by taking my right breast in hand. I shivered because I expected pain from her. My breasts were significantly larger than hers and they seemed to be a target of her angst. Yet to my surprise, she moved her mouth to my nipple and sucked. When she finished my nipple was erect and she commented. “Does he like to suck them, like you were a cow? Men seem obsessed with suckling like calves at large breasts like yours?”

  I had no idea what to say. Yes, Lionel had sucked on my tits before, but I wouldn’t have thought him obsessed with them. “He has sucked them, Mistress.”

  “And you liked it?”

  I nodded afraid of how she would react.

  “So you like being a cow, right?” She released my breast and took the other one in hand.

  This was so beyond my understanding, I had no idea how to respond. Normally I would not have responded to such a crude and stupid question, but that was not allowed now. “I guess so, Mistress.”

  “Good to know, it gives me a direction to go with you, but it’s time to get dressed, slave. There is your clothing, in the corner, so put them all on immediately and we’ll see how you look.” She pointed to a pile of items in the corner of the porch and I moved closer to examine them.

  Immediately I recognized the first one, a shiny silver hobble chain which extended between two leather anklets with tiny locks on them. Picking it up, I bent over and buckled the leather to my ankles. The locks were easy to understand so I closed each until they clicked and I realized I could no longer run to escape. The hobble chain was generous, clearly intended to allow walking but not running.

  With the hobble chain secure, I reached for the second item and held up a simple silver nipple chain with two old style screw clamps. The look I spied on Rosemary’s face was wicked as I dutifully slipped my erect right nipple into the clamp and screwed it down tight. I deliberately tightened it until I grimaced in pain because I didn’t want her to think it not tight enough; for if she did she would surely do it herself which I suspected would be bad for me. When I took the opposite clamp to do my other nipple Rosemary interrupted.

  “No, no, not like that. Thread the chain through the ring of your collar first.”

  I looked with horror at the length of the chain and I immediately understood the excruciating implications of her command. The chain was purposefully short enough to not allow enough slack for my breasts to rest comfortably in their natural positions on my chest. Instead they would be held up by my clamped nipples provoking a constant jerking pain as I walked. I wanted to refuse, but I had no doubt Rosemary would have no compunction about administering a savage punishment if I did and then she would surely connect the chain herself. Feeling helpless, I threaded the chain through my collar ring and quickly screwed down the clamp on my left nipple. To my dismay, both my breasts were now held upright on my chest by the chain and the bitter pain made my eyes water.

  “Does it hurt? I hope so, but I must say I love to display slaves this way. It’s hell on them, but it immediately lets buyers know they are sadomasochistic sluts capable of dealing with intense pain.”

  My mind reacted in horror, but not so much at her statement as hard as it was to hear. It was how she had pictured slaves, as things to be sold to a buyer, as if slaves were a business to her. Had I fallen into the hands of a slave trader? It was hard to accept, especially considering her gender, but it was possible.

  Now I looked down at the last item of my attire, but unlike the others I was not instantly aware of its purpose. It was basically a waist belt, but what made it strange were four nasty looking snap clamps at the end of flexible, thin bungee-like cords. Two of the cords were attached to the belt directly opposite each other at my sides, while the other two descended from the rear of the belt. Resigned to my fate, I picked the belt up and buckled it around my waist.

  “I’ll fix it for you. So you know how to do it properly.” Rosemary’s voice sounded annoyed, but I imagined she was actually looking forward to this moment.

  Quickly she pulled the clamps of the two side-mounted cords down to my pussy and clamped them there with no warning. The effect was immediate and painful and the top of my labia lips were pulled open. Then Rosemary brought the two back mounted cords through my legs and clamped them to the lower half of my pussy lips. I was now pulled open with my pink inner flesh displayed like a flower at the cost of constant pain.

  “See how pretty and it has the added advantage of advertising you as a walking open hole for sex which is what slaves are after all.” Rosemary chose now to be the first time she invaded my gash as she slipped a finger inside me poking at my intimate tunnel in a not so gentle manner.

  “Well, we’ll check it out later, but it seems open and willing. There’s one last thing I have my slave’s wear early in their training to prevent them from tampering with their wardrobe before they are broken.” She reached into a nearby cabinet and withdrew a simple pair of handcuffs which she slapped on my wrists after she had gathered them behind my back. Now I could not even fiddle with the painful items of my discomfort. I had to simply bear the pain.

  “Now before we go inside, does the pretty bitch need to pee? Like an animal, you will always eliminate outside as the inside toilet facilities are for my use only. Go outside now and squat to pee if you need to. Don’t be disgusted and ignore this opportunity because I decide when you go out and the next opportunity may not come for a while yet.” Rosemary pointed to the door and with tears in my eyes I hobbled outside, squatted, and peed as much as I could in the sandy soil. What would be required when I needed to have a bowel movement?

  “Now cover up your pee like a good doggie does.” Rosemary pointed to the wet spot in the sand and I was forced to kick sand over it. Then she picked up a nearby hose and flushed out my open pussy in a shocking fashion with cold water.

  “The spring water here is naturally cold. Imagine what it will feel like when I squirt it up your ass, bitch.”

  Again she grabbed my collar, jerking my breasts painfully, as she pulled me into the house. My bare feet were suddenly on cool white tile and I looked around to see a fastidiously clean dining room, living room and adjoining bedroom. In the living room there was a large picture window with a view of the beach and thick white carpeting. The walls and roof were a dark wood tone to offset the carpet and the furniture was a dark teakwood shade. Forest green curtains outlined the windows, but as I looked about I saw there were no personal items lying about. It was strange, the lack of the normal clutter of life which we all carry with us. Rosemary seemed to have no pictures or paintings, no personal knick-knacks, not even a diploma hanging on the wall. In that sense this was simply a house, not a home. If she did not live here, where did she live?

  “You’ll start by scrubbing the kitchen floor. It’s actually quite clean, but slaves must be kept busy even if the work is meaningless.” Rosemary dived into a closet as I lo
oked around the spotless tile floor wondering if this was now my life, a life of constant pain and empty drudgery. Soon she had retrieved a scrub brush with an odd attachment on it, soap, and a bucket from the closet. As I was handcuffed and helpless, she filled the bucket with a generous portion of soap and warm water. Placing the bucket on the floor beside me she instructed me on my task.

  “When my slaves work, they need to feel like meaningless objects which may be used as their owner sees fit so this task is designed for you to feel like that.” She opened a drawer and brought out something I did recognize immediately, a large black latex dildo gag.

  “Open up.” When I did she quickly fed the black cock into my mouth buckling it tightly in place. The unusual attachment on the scrub brush was to allow it to mount on the front of the gag over my mouth. It was clear to me now I would scrub the kitchen floor on my knees and with my mouth in a sense. This would be agonizing for my breasts as they would freely jiggle to torment my nipples.

  “Now get to work, slut, and don’t think the job is done when the floor is entirely scrubbed. My slaves work until I tell them to stop.” She slapped my bottom to get my going and for a while she stood over me and watched seeming to delight in my misery.

  “Do you see now how real enslavement differs from the pampered play of a few rich bitches who call themselves slaves at your precious Mansion?” She paused and placed her booted foot on my side and pushed, knocking me from my fragile kneeling position and making me scream in agony right through the dildo.

  “You’re the lucky one though. What you will learn now is real slavery. You’ll experience what slutty bitches like you do when someone owns your ass literally and they intend to use and abuse you mercilessly. You may actually grow to like it if you have masochistic desires, but even if you don’t you will serve. It won’t take long to break a whining bitch like you and then you’ll have one chance before your fate is sealed forever.” She began her maniacal laugh again and I was incapable of responding with anything but groans of agony and a pathetic shaking of my head to her assertions, but I did latch onto her reference to a last chance.

  “Do you know how you can tell this is real slavery?” She hissed at me.

  I looked up and shook my head.

  “I didn’t give you a safe word, silly, so you could stop this situation if things got too hard on you, now did I?”

  She was right as the lack of a safe word or any way for me to stop her torment of me was the key difference between this hellish environment and consensual play. It was what made this situation so frightening, unstoppable and dangerously real.

  “And you might remain my slave for the rest of your life. Now wouldn’t that be nice.”

  Her mocking tone bit into my mind because the mere concept of remaining here as her slave forever was beyond my current comprehension, but she wasn’t wrong about the possibility. I began to sob and my mouth began to gurgle around the cock and I drooled out saliva onto the floor. I felt like my emotional depths had perhaps already been stretched too far and perhaps I was already breaking.

  Rosemary’s reaction was to flail me with her ever present little whip and scream. “Get back to work.”

  With no way out, I did so fumbling back to my kneeling position and scrubbing the floor with my face. Rosemary watched for a moment, a moment which seemed endless and then she let fall a crumb of hope to cling to in my growing mental anguish.

  “Don’t worry, sweetie, you’ll see him once more, but will you want to by then? It’s hard to say.” Her words were meant to taunt me, yes, but they seemed to confirm Lionel’s involvement in this situation at some level. While on the one hand they gave some hope of seeing the man I had felt I loved less than twenty-four hours ago when I boarded his private jet in Boston, I wondered if it was a false hope. If Lionel is putting me through all this of his own free will, do I really love him?

  Chapter 2

  Cassandra Murdoch was finally letting herself free. Gone from Cassie’s thoughts was her controlling mother who had forced her to think she was dominant. Now she could explore the depths of who she really was; a submissive. The woman I first knew as the enigmatic, young, and angry Miss Pink and then as Mistress Cassandra at the Mansion was going to follow the path I never had; she was to be trained by the stern and demanding Grant Farrell.

  Right now, Cassandra’s brunette hair fell softly on the side of Grant’s toilet bowl its highlight blonde streaks standing out against the porcelain. One might have imagined she as a sorority sister caught purging or worshipping the porcelain god, but indeed this was the very first position her training Master had mandated she assume. It was the resting and waiting position of a toilet slave which was now Grant liked to break subs in. What better way to test their capacity for humiliation than with toilet duties.

  Completely naked, Cassie was kneeling before the bowl with her head resting on the left hand edge of the seat and her face turned towards the bathroom door so he could see her pretty face awaiting him as soon as he entered. Her instructions were simple, but mind-numbingly boring and tedious as she was simply to wait there until he entered the bathroom and needed her services. She had no idea how much time had already passed, but it seemed like hours to her.

  Now often when the term “toilet slave” is used people cringe, even subs, but Grant had modified the duties so they would be palatable to a new sub yet perversely degrading. Cassie would be more of a bathroom body servant for her first three days in Grant’s apartment and he had clearly explained her duties in every situation.

  “As soon as I enter the bathroom you will lift your head off the toilet seat and crawl to me. Your first duty is to ask what I want and then facilitate it. Should I need to pee, take down my pants and lightly kiss my penis to show respect? Then lift the seat of the bowl and as I pee continue to kiss and lick me. Once I shake off, kiss my penis again before you place it back in my pants and zip me up. If I should need to shit, the procedure will be the same except that you will kiss and lick my penis as I do. Any other services, say a shower or brushing my teeth, or whatever I may need, you will assist intimately in any manner you can while touching and showing your devotion to me. The purpose of this exercise is to teach you my needs are all superior to yours and you will fulfill them under the most intimate and humiliating circumstances.”

  “Yes, Master, I understand.” Cassie had chosen Grant to be her training Master after she had heard me speak of him and had heard her father, Keefe Murdoch say he was a dominant of great skill. As the spoiled Miss Pink, an employee of her father, Cassie had ruled over subs and had lived by the cruel rules her naturally dominant mother had pounded into her head for the first eighteen years of her life. The anger I had sensed and felt from Miss Pink and Mistress Cassandra was mostly her submerged anger at submissives, because they were following the desires she was not allowed to follow.

  “So what will you learn from being my toilet slave, Cassandra?” Grant asked the question hoping for an advanced answer for this daughter of his good friend.

  “To learn my place, Master?” Cassie was hesitant and the answer was not complete.

  “And where is your place?”

  “Beneath you, Master, always.”

  Grant smiled, it was a good beginning.

  However after two days, Cassie wasn’t sure it was a good beginning for she was horny wanting sexual satisfaction and all she had done was kiss his soft penis. Isn’t he going to fuck me at some point?

  He came in the bathroom later in the day and as was her duty she turned and crawled to him. “How may I serve, Master?”

  “I need a shower, slave. Turn on the water and then come in and scrub my back.”

  She was excited to be in the shower with him, more excited than she should be perhaps. At one point after she had scrubbed his back she moved around him and began to kiss her way down his chest to his belly and beyond. Once her face was next to his cock, she was near crazy with lust. In her mind this was serving him, so she simply did as she desir
ed and slipped his cock in her mouth.

  “Stop what you’re doing, slave.” Grant’s voice was stern and he stepped away from her.

  “But, Master, I just . . .”

  He did not let her finish. “You just gave in to your desire is what you did. Did I ask you to suck me?” His voice as firm and unyielding telling her she was wrong, but how could pleasuring her Master be wrong.

  “I . . . I thought you . . .”

  Again he did not let her finish. “Are you doing the thinking here. Are you in charge?”

  “No, Master.” She hung her head, but he pulled her up closer to him.

  “I understand why you did what you did, but do you. You acted on your desire to suck me and assumed it would be mine, but those are the reactions of a vanilla relationship. What you have to understand is your desire to do something means nothing unless I desire it and you can never assume I do. You will suck my cock, but not before you learn this. Do you understand?”

  Cassie’s mind was reeling and trying to make sense of it all. So he’s saying I sucked his cock because I wanted to, not because he did. I guess he’s right, I did want to and I even hoped it would lead to him fucking me. This may be more difficult than I imagined because I’m going to have to relearn sexual response.

  “I guess so, Master, it’s just hard to accept.”

  “True, and I sense you are unsure. In this case I’ll have to take sterner measures than I had intended to control your urges.”

  Cassie looked at him unsure of what he meant. “Control my urges, Master?”

  “I see your need in your eyes, Cassandra, and I doubt you can control it. I think we’ll start with cuffs, to deny you access to you pussy, but if you use other means I’ll have to go further.” He was very clear on the steps he needed to take, but she was foggy.