0 comments/ 15529 views/ 4 favorites Happy Birthday, Amelia! Ch. 01 By: Chaingun Amelia was kindly asked to dress in something very formal; it was her birthday after all. So her favorite "little black dress" and sexiest heels were chosen, laid out, and accessorized until she had just the right compliment to the outfit. A simple string of pearls was all that was deemed necessary. After all, wasn't it him that said, "You're the most beautiful creature, Amelia, there's not a jewel or gold bauble that could improve you"? So in the hot shower, she scrubbed, shaved, and washed everything. Who knew where tonight's adventure led? It was always something interesting. And a birthday warranted something that even she couldn't predict. In the car, he was silent. A small bag on the back seat was placed prominently, clearly an enticement that was meant to garner a question about its contents, but she knew better than to ask. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps she was going to a simple soiree with hors d'oeuvres and champagne, a small gathering of friends who would toast her good health and wish her a happy birthday, or something completely different. She couldn't tell. She never could tell. In a large home, they were handed from the car and ushered inside and then to a large room silently. All the guests were apparently in attendance already and all deferred to him and looked at her with knowing smiles, gleaming eyes, and wicked anticipations. She was excited and trying to remain calm and appear dignified. She was unfortunately painfully aware of her pointed nipples trying to tear through the fabric of her top. Her body was never subtle in its reactions despite her demeanor never betraying her inner cravings. Everyone was dressed in formal wear and black and white were clearly the colors of the night. In fact, there was no other color in evidence on anyone. Sure, there were diamonds and gold on the ladies, similar colors on the watches of the men, and the obligatory red lipstick on the lips of each beautiful woman, but for clothes, there was nothing but black or white from the shoes all the way to the topmost piece of clothing. She was quiet, anticipatory, and slightly anxious about what might be coming. And then he led her to the center of the room. The crowd parted and seemed to form a sort of semi circle. Most milled around in anticipation but six couples, clearly predesignated for the purpose, moved to form a twenty foot wide circle around her. Each man was with a woman who stood still while he moved behind his partner. Amelia watched; the strange ritual promised to be exciting and she felt like time had stopped. She screamed inwardly for it to go faster because not knowing what was next was killing her. The couple directly in front of her line of sight locked eyes with her. The woman was a younger girl that Amelia knew and the man was her long time boyfriend. His hands worked behind her and as he unzipped her dress, it fell away, exposing her naked body beneath. Twin pierced nipples jutted from her milky breasts and he reached around her to hook a clip on a chain to one nipple ring, then ran the chain up and over her neck, and then fed it back down along her elegant collarbone to her other breast where he clipped the end to the free nipple ring. The chain was too short and dragged at the tender flesh, forcing her breasts to pull upwards. Her eyelids sagged at the sensation and her partner touched her shoulder and she moved to her knees before him. She held her position, head bowed, hands open, knees together, and waited. Movement to her right attracted Amelia's attention and she turned to see a very tall redhead that she'd only spoken to in passing once. Her dress in turn fell to the ground and exposed a rust colored tuft of pubic hair above her vagina and huge, freckled breasts topped with the delicate strawberry colored puffs of her nipples. Her patent black leather heels were impossibly tall and exaggerated her already incredible height. Her partner--a man that Amelia had never seen before--opened a small bag and removed a very long length of rope. In actuality, it was a quarter inch wide continuous strip of cowhide. He moved around in front of her and began winding it around the base of her right breast. Ten, twelve, fourteen turns around it and then he moved to her left breast and did the same thing, It distended her breasts and purpled them; the redhead actually winced once as he rounded the breast and he stopped and shared a look with her. She lowered her eyes and did not make another noise. When he was done, she had two breasts that looked like they might explode, so tight were they. The one or two feet of extra leather that was left was not bothered with. He did not tie it, but instead, offered the last of the length to her mouth and she opened and then closed her teeth on it obediently. She lowered her head and knelt. A petite blond was to the right and Amelia turned to watch her dress fall. She was shaved smooth, had beautiful breasts, and a sexy, flat stomach. The man's bag opened and its contents were removed one by one. A ball gag was inserted tightly into her mouth, her nipples were tightly clamped, and a leather belt was hung around her waist with a flogger hanging by a small ring on the right side. She was helped to kneel by the stout man behind her. The next two girls were identical twins and their "handlers" stripped them and confined them at the same time. Both girls smiled at Amelia since she knew them both. The first girl was tied tightly so that her arms were behind her and immobile. The other sister was simply allowed to kneel but she did so with her palms up. The man with her placed a thin, wooden cane across her open palms and she made an audible gasp when she realized what it was. Her man instantly grabbed her hair and directed her face up towards his and he stared her down. They held their gaze for roughly five seconds and apparently, he decided that he'd made his point and released her hair. Her head immediately went back to the submissive posture that she should have silently held in the first place. The final woman was easily twenty years older than the oldest of the other five submissives. Her handler dropped her wrap, unbuttoned her dress, and allowed it all to fall away at once. It was as if a cherished possession was being shown to outsiders for the first time. She actually stood stock still holding a confident smile as her over fifty year old body was revealed. She knew from long hours of exercise how well toned she was and simply stood in her heels and watched as all eyes in the room took in her high, natural breasts, slim and well formed legs, and flat stomach. Her vagina was shaved perfectly smooth to show the tiniest of heart tattoos right above where her slit started. Wordlessly, she bent over without bending her knees. Her hands slid down her smooth legs, over her knees, and to her ankles. Each beautiful hand wrapped around an ankle. Her back remained straight as did her legs. The young man behind her--for she was into men young enough to be her son--stepped back, inspected her from behind, moved to the side and inspected the straightness of her back and legs, and then returned to a position behind her. Six women, all in a submissive pose, all waiting for something. But Amelia didn't know what. As she wondered what was next, she felt his hands at her back. From her waist, his fingers traced her sensitive spine and upon finding that she wore no bra, he whispered, "Good Girl." His fingers continued up to her neckline and caught at her long braided hair. A sharp tug controlled her head and forced her to look up. Two ropes hung from the ceiling, one of which was being lowered towards her. The ends of it were unbraided and appeared quite sloppy in a room where everything else seemed so well ordered. Behind her, he worked and she wondered quietly what was happening. The other occupants of the room however, were watching intently as he worked. The open braids of the rope were being expertly braided into her hair. He'd undone the plaits of her long braid and was using his whip making skills to weave them together with the rope. She felt what was happening, but was unsure what was going on other than that she was the center of attention. Once the connection was secured, she felt the weight of her hair leave her head. The rope above her was pulled up just enough to lift the heavy hair from her back. And then, she felt the zipper of her dress being pulled down. A moment of trepidation almost made her change her mind, but she steeled herself and held still. Was she attractive enough to be nude in front of these people? Fit enough? Would they be pleased? "Oh, God, what is happening?" her mind screamed. And so she was nude but for her heels and pearls in the middle of a circle of other nude women. Men in tuxedos quietly stood and watched and other women exchanged appreciative looks at what they could see. The rope above her pulled higher and the long pony tail pulled at the base of her head, forcing her face to look downward. To her left, at waist height, he held the back seat bag. Slowly, so as to draw it out, he undid the drawstring. Something weighty lay in the bottom; she could tell by the way the bag moved as his hands worked. She tried to watch, but the rope pulling her hair confined her head to staring straight down and only seeing what was placed in front of her eyes. And from between her legs, she saw a pair of shoes. Women's shoes. Someone knelt behind her and wrapped Velcro straps around her ankles. A long spreader bar was lain between her feet on the floor and the long, elegant hands of the kneeling woman pulled her feet farther apart until there was room for the spreader bar. The left side was attached to a small ring and the woman whispered, "Amelia, move the right foot outward...now!" When she hesitated, the woman's hand grabbed the ankle and forced it. Amelia didn't think she could hold the position so wide were her legs and so high were the heels on her shoes. But the rope above her was tightened further, stretching her from her wide spread feet to the top of her head. She felt her hands being restrained at her sides and her "capture" was complete...or so she thought. In this standing, spread legged position, hair held tightly above her head and forcing her face to look down, she felt a cold sensation on her shoulder and then down her back. The other rope was being lowered and its metal attachment was chilly on her nervous, naked skin. He moved back into her view; the tops of his dress shoes almost reflecting the obscene view of her legs and pussy from the floor. Finally, Dave spoke: "One word, Amelia. Do you trust me?" His hand was in the bag, she was in no position to argue any point, and she was excited and scared beyond belief at what her "birthday present" might be. The thought process that forced her to answer with only word--without saying "Sir"--caused her a moment's hesitation and the hands holding her ankles tightened almost imperceptibly: a warning to answer quickly. "Yes," she whispered and the hand came out of the bag. It was if it would have happened no matter what she answered yet he just wanted to reassure her that he was there, would watch out for her, and that she was his, and cherished...and that he needed her to acknowledge with that simple affirmative answer that she understood all this. In his hand was a gold-plated anal hook with an impossibly large ball. He spoke again, revealing to her who was kneeling behind her, "Mary, would you please insert this so the party can begin...?" Happy Birthday, Amelia! Ch. 02 Mary, slowly and surely pushed the ball into the crevice between Amelia's ass cheeks. The cold metal would have made her jump, if she could have jumped. Her confinement didn't offer that possibility. If she tried to move a foot, she was sure that the foot would leave the floor and her weight would be supported by the other foot and her hair. She didn't want her weight on her neck, but the hair afforded her the ability to "balance" herself since she couldn't move her feet easily. All the same, the ball's cold touch forced her to cringe. (Later that night, Dave would joke that he actually heard her asshole clench tighter to repel the coming invasion.) But Mary was experienced at this, so she ran the cold metal up and down the space between the two fleshy globes of Amelia's butt. It warmed in that tight space quickly. A new sensation was felt and Amelia realized that her asshole was being lubed. She worked to relax; she didn't know when the insertion was coming but knew that it would take all of her skill to keep from panicking and clenching, and possibly making the insertion difficult or worse, painful. Mary's soft finger rubbed the lube in a circle around the tight, light pink bud and Amelia calmed her breathing and enjoyed the sensation. He had certainly trained her ass to accept his tongue, his fingers, some toys that they'd purchased, and even his cock, but this was going to be different. She called on everything she'd learned, every experience at being anally penetrated. So when the woman behind her applied pressure to her most taboo spot, she continued to breathe normally, relaxed, and enjoyed the sensation as her sphincter was stretched, slowly penetrated, and tested for its ability to accept the gleaming ball on the hook. She closed her eyes and her inner voice howled at the intrusion, but her inner sub began to glow. She concentrated on the sensation, on the service she was offering, how it would please him if she could "perform" in front of all these people, how he would tell her how proud he was of her after this was over. She reveled in that thought, got lost in it, and could feel herself luminescing in the dim room. Center of attention, bound more to help her deal with what was happening than to keep her in place (for she would willingly do whatever he asked), and bent over to allow for easier performance of a task, she was floating. Mary was incredible to her; gentle yet forceful, slow but insistent, and careful not to go too fast or too far. She watched Amelia's body for reactions or signs of stress. The girl was a champ. Mary thought to herself that "this one is well trained." Finally, the hook was past the tight opening and Amelia's crinkled skin squeezed down around the narrower shank of the hook. "OK, Amelia?" This would be Mary's only verbal concern for Amelia, giving her the chance to say yes or no. And when she received the affirmative nod of Amelia's head (or what passed for it since Amelia could barely move any part of her head), the ball began the slow passage further into Amelia's body. Amelia clenched her eyes and felt the presence of Dave behind her. She knew he was watching and more than anyone else in the room, would protect her against all dangers if he sensed anything that threatened her. But she also knew that of anyone there, he was the one who would take her, ravage her, and roughly fuck her at a time of his choosing, wherever he wanted. She was his so completely that she was comforted by the fact that not only was she deeply craved, but that she was also deeply cherished. Once completely embedded in Amelia, the hook was attached to the second rope and she felt the slack being taken up. She could feel the minutely slow crawl of the cotton rope across her back as it was raised by someone who was a master at making his subject feel every sensation. Finally, it was taut. Or...she thought it was. The feeling in her hind quarters turned to a pressure. Slowly the pressure turned to a tug. And the tug turned to a pain, a delicious, slow, "filling her ass to a point that she wasn't sure she could take" pain. The upward movement stopped right before she almost winced. She was relieved that it had stopped, but now, she was truly immobile other than the little bit that she could move her head. She felt so full. And then the fun began. Happy Birthday, Amelia! Ch. 03 Amelia saw movement out of the the corner of her eye. She couldn't move much, the spreader bar at her feet, the rope braided into her long hair, and the anal hook kept her in a position that was unnatural, but surprisingly not uncomfortable. There in the center of the circle of subs, she was forced to stand and wait for the next "activity" from the others. The first woman in the circle was approached by her partner. He moved around in front of her and to her credit, she kept her head down and remained in her submissive, kneeling pose. The thin, silver chain that ran up and over her neck and down to hook into two nipple rings was simply too tight and distended her breasts, stretching the skin of her nipples up and back toward her neck. The man calmly reached for her chin and tilted her head up to look at him. They locked eyes and he smiled down at her. The hand left her chin and reached for the chain behind her neck. Once there, he pulled on the chain lightly until the flesh began to turn red. Her eyelids sagged as if she was going to pass out from the pain, but she never let her eyes leave his. His free hand caressed her cheek while his other pulled harder at the chain. Tears welled in her eyes, but still she would not look away or cry out. He wiggled his finger and the heavy weight of her breasts jiggled at the end of the chain. Suddenly, he pulled harder and the soft flesh became misshapen and odd looking. The nipple rings looked like they were actually going to pull out of her flesh, so stretched were they. Still, she did not lean backward to lessen the effect. She did not cry out. She did not wince, gasp, or look away. He was clearly pleased and turned to smile at the others in attendance. His face betrayed a silent boast of, "Look. Look what I have trained her to do. She is mine." Everyone watched in silence, some expressing satisfied smiles to those around them and impressed nods. The whole thing lasted no more than ten minutes, and her partner turned to face her, and then spoke for the first time. "Thank you, Beatrice." With no other word, he moved back to his place behind her and stood quietly. In the center of the circle, Amelia found that she was turned on by what little she had been able to witness but could do nothing about it. Mary moved around her and to her surprise, attached nipple clamps to Amelia's perky nubs. She turned the small knob slowly, tightening the device on one then the other nipple of the bound woman. She smiled as if to say, "Lucky Girl..." Before moving away from Amelia's chest, she attached a weight to each nipple clamp and Amelia gasped. The mood in the room noticeably changed. Dave's voice from beside her ear seethed, "Amelia, keep quiet. This is your only warning." He didn't wait for an answer since he knew she would remain silent. Before he moved away from her, he placed a hand on each hip and slowly turned her a few degrees to her right so that she could see what was next. Before anything else happened, she felt the tug in her bottom increase, almost imperceptibly. The next woman, the tall redhead, still held her position even though her bound breasts were now so purple that they had to be painful. Her partner, a tall man in his forties with salt and pepper hair, moved around in front of her and reached down to lift her face to his. He leaned down towards her and kissed her full on her pouty, pale lips. Her mouth lingered and seemed to reach for more as he began to pull away from the kiss. Her eyes slowly came open and it was as if the sun was rising, so bright were her orbs. What happened next shocked Amelia. Without warning, he slapped her left breast, hard. The noise was deafening in the room. Her breast bounced towards its twin and rebounded to its original position in time to receive another blow. The leather tightened around her breast never moved, nor did it allow the blood trapped near the nipple to return to her body. The pressure had to be incredible to the girl but she remained quiet. She fought to maintain her gaze into his eyes as he struck her breasts again and again. Three strikes to the left breast, three strikes to the right. She took it all and actually at one point smiled up at him. Amelia couldn't see this; her position allowed her a cursory idea of what was happening. But the rest of the attendees could see what was happening and many pressed forward to see her receive her treatment. He alternated his technique. He reached down and cupped a breast in one hand while making a fist with the other. He proceeded to strike the top of her breast lightly with the edge of his fist, rapidly and with enough pressure that the entire tit jiggled and forced even more pressure into the nipple end of the tightly bound breast. Her back arched, her face betrayed her, and she was clearly feeling incredible pressure in her chest...but still, not a word from her. After performing this act on both breasts, he stopped and took a nipple between each thumb and forefinger. He blew a kiss at her and as she pursed her lips to return the gesture, he tightened his fingers and twisted, hard. She clenched her teeth and took in a breath as quietly as she could. But still not a word from her mouth of protest. The man effected a sharp, short bow to her when he finished and said, "Thank you, Sheri." He then returned to his position behind her and grinned the grin of a sadist who has been allowed to practice his craft. At the center of the circle, Mary moved around next to Amelia again and began, with a long segment of leather stripping, to bind Amelia's breasts. Around and around, tighter and tighter, until each breast was elongated and turning a brilliant shade of red. Each nipple with its clamp and weight seemed to actually become longer with the new torture. And when she was done, the rope pulling at her anal hook became a tiny bit shorter, pulling the hook further into her. She wondered if she could stand it much longer, but for him, she would bear the pain. And Dave held both of her hips and turned her a slight bit to the right. Before he moved away, he whispered very softly, "I'm so proud of you..." The stout man behind the petite blond moved out from behind her and stood in front of her kneeling form. He reached down and lifted her face to look up at him. A look passed between them and then he took a fistful of hair in his hand and roughly pulled her forward. Her hands moved to catch her fall and she ended up on all fours, her belt with the flogger hanging straight down and her black heels pointing out behind her. He moved back behind her, reached for the flogger, and removed it from the small hook hanging from the belt. The man looked around the room, making eye contact with many of the attendees and lingering on more than one woman if his eye caught that "spark" of interest in what everyone in the room knew was going to happen. The flogger came down on her ass and she showed no emotion. It struck her tiny behind again and still, not a movement could be perceived. He raised his hand again and brought the leather down in a blow that made many in the room wince with the perceived pain. The noise was deafening. She did not move. She did not make a sound. She didn't even cry. So the strikes continued and her bottom turned pink. He stopped to examine it and drag his nails across the tender flesh. Then he continued. A few minutes later, her bottom was so red that it seemed to glow. He stopped and rubbed it, seeming to soothe it, or to feel the heat he had created there. Some in the crowd knew that sensation, either having been on the receiving end of similar play...or having administered it. When he was finished, he moved back towards her head and grabbed her hair again and pulled her back to her kneeling position. He ran a finger along her delicate jawline and up her cheek to end near her ear. He looked into her big eyes and saw what everyone else in the room could see; gratitude. He said, "Thank you, Julie," and moved back to his position behind her, satisfied that he'd impressed the party goers with his sub's performance. Heels clicked on the parquet floor as Mary moved towards Julie and her partner. He held out his arm and handed her the two items, before she turned and walked back behind Amelia. Amelia braced herself. She had guessed correctly; the same punishment was administered to her. Mary came back and roughly placed the ball gag--still wet with Julie's spit--into her mouth. It was adjusted behind her head and pulled tight. From now on, Amelia could only breathe through the wet holes in the ball holding her mouth open and silencing her voice. And then, Mary moved out of her sight and behind her. Her ass felt the sharp sting of the same flogger that had beaten Julies' ass red. The flogger came down again and again on her ass, accentuating the pressure of the polished steel hook embedded in her bottom. She could feel the heat building up in her backside and the sharp pains continued. Over and over she was struck and trying to emulate Julie, she remained quiet and still. Her butt felt like it was on fire but she fought to hold still and remain quiet. Movement would only upset her delicate balance that was tested with each stroke of the tool as it hit her bottom. And still the flogger came down on her ass. Mary was thorough, Amelia was near tears and fighting it before she stopped. When she finished, Mary click-clicked back over to where the man behind Julie took the flogger back and turned to caress the beautiful blond's ass one last time with the leather before hanging it again at her belt. And the device in Amelia's ass was pulled a little tighter before strong hands held her hips as Dave turned Amelia a little further this time so that two women were in her sight; the twins. Happy Birthday, Amelia! Ch. 04 The twins were so identical, that Amelia could not tell which was Janice and which was Joanne. She noticed a freckle near the left nipple of one, but never having been intimate with the girls, she did not know whose identifying mark that might be. Their partners moved in front of the girls like the other men had done when it was their turn. The difference this time was that apparently, two girls were going to perform at once. The girl holding the cane was directed to stand. As she was standing, her "handler" moved in close and as he whispered something in her ear, he reached around behind her and traced a finger from her ass to her spine and all the way up to her hairline as he spoke. Whatever he said, shocked the girl and clearly disturbed her. She turned her head slightly to look at his face--needing to be sure that she'd understood what was expected of her in this public setting--and had her fear confirmed. He whispered something else to her ("Don't disappoint me...") but nobody else in the room could hear it. Amelia could not see movement, in fact, both couples were still preparing for the physical part of their performance. She was only slightly cognizant of the room. She knew where she was and some of the attendees, and certainly was keenly aware of the predicament she was in bondage-wise, but the sub in her was flying on gossamer wings, floating high above the crowd and blissfully aware that it was going to get even better if that was possible. Janice and Joanne were moved closer to each other. One twin was helped to her feet and moved into a bent over position, hands on her knees. The one with the cane was placed next to her sister. Her handler said in a low tone, "Begin," and she looked at him for reassurance. His look brooked no defiance so she turned back to her task. She raised the cane tentatively and swung it at the back of her sister's legs. It struck the soft flesh with a crack. She pulled the implement back and struck again, and again many in the room thought that it was too soft, but it did make a satisfying noise. She looked at him, wondering in the absence of instruction, if she was to continue. He said nothing, so she continued. Again and again, she brought the cane to her sister's thighs and there was a buildup that everyone in the room could feel; she was increasing her tempo and her force, almost imperceptibly. All of those watching though, knew that she was warming to the task, beginning to enjoy it, and truly beginning to allow her inner sadist to escape...even though her subject was her own mirror. When the beating had commenced to being loud, quick, and sharp blows, the group could see the sister's red stripes on her legs and could see her eyes so full of tears that they actually dripped onto the floor in front of her. The arm went back again and again, the cane fell over and over, and the bamboo made incredible noises as it found tender flesh in need of discipline. (One woman in the crowd, so turned on by the spectacle moved in close behind her date. The beautiful Korean woman was not tall enough to see over his shoulder from behind him so she steadied herself with one hand around his middle while the other reached around and rubbed the front of his trousers. She played softly with his cock through his trousers and moved her hand to the zipper of his tuxedo pants. Dave saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to look at them. His eyes said all that was needed: "Sarah, this is not about you. You'll get to play later. Stop now." Admonished, the woman with the long black hair, over active libido, and wandering hand removed her hand from its position and smiled shyly as if to say, "I'm sorry.") The arm that was caning the sister came back and at its apex, was caught by his hand. She was stunned out of her reverie, and turned to look with surprise at him. She had truly become lost in what she had been told to do. He whispered to her as he took the cane and moved out of her way. She began to smile sheepishly for she was embarrassed to have found that she would enjoy that and then, she remembered her sister. Emotion rushed into her heart and she too started crying. She moved quickly to where her sister stood bent over and waiting for more, instruction, or relief. The sister's handler moved out of the way and the two nude women hugged and cried together. Their love for each other was something that everyone in the room could see; it was impossible to hide the bond that they shared from lives spent together. Their men moved to them and without separating them, guided the still embracing women to a new spot, halfway between where each had previously knelt. They clung to each other and no one in the room thought that they could be separated, no matter what this ceremony called for. Each man watched the two as they lowered themselves to the floor, still clinging to each other and both crying their eyes out and smiling at each other. Where one nude sister started and the other ended was difficult to tell, so when one man said, "Thank you, Joanne," and the other said, "Thank you, Janice," Amelia was none the wiser about who was who. Again Mary stepped towards a recently finished couple and again, she returned with an instrument to use on Amelia. Moving behind the trapped woman, she stopped and let the anticipation build. The crowd moved forward, whether it was real or imagined, Amelia could feel every eye in the room on Mary and her. The weights hanging from her breasts were dragging at her and the pressure in them was almost unbearable from the leather bindings. The ball gag was keeping her mouth open and gasping through the breathing holes. Her ass was on fire. Her hair was tight and close to making her neck sore from the position she was in. Her legs were becoming tired and beginning to shake. And the invasive gold plated piece of metal up her ass was becoming a part of her...it had turned into a symbol of his ownership of her. She had come to embrace the inert tool and love how it felt so deep in her insides. She was flying, her body was of no consequence. She was aware of the pain, the restrictions, the changes to her body but she was in heaven. She'd never felt so free, so light, and so...loved. And when the cane came down, she barely felt it. The crowd audibly winced. Again and again and again she was lashed with the cruel piece of bamboo. Again and again and again she was aware of the sting on her thighs but didn't feel a thing. She was not even in her body. She was a piece of everyone in the room, molecules shared with everyone, given freely for them to use as they would. She was the glow in the eyes of the women, she was the desire in the eyes of the men, she was the cravings in their hearts to be a part of it, to touch her, to take her, to want her, to have her. She was the object of his passions and she felt full, complete, and exalted. Amelia had never felt this, couldn't have imagined it. Her sense of self was gone, she was not a body in a room...she was pleasure. Pure and unadulterated emotion. She hadn't even noticed that the caning had stopped. Nobody in the room breathed. Amelia had not noticed that she'd been moved slightly to "face" the last woman. Nor did she feel the rope pull on the hook in her bottom. And in a cloud of happiness, she heard a whispered voice that entreated her not to lose the place she was in, but to know that, "You are mine...and you are so much more than these...girls," he hissed the last word almost with disdain. "You are a woman, a beautiful, wonderful, and possessed woman. Do you know the pride I feel that I have sought, pursued, and earned you? Do you understand that I measure my self as a man by my ability not just to sweet talk the princess, but to charm the queen down from her throne and kneel at my feet and ask to become my slut?" His fingers brushed a stray hair out of her eye as he finished and at his mere touch, Amelia started to cum. It was small, silent, and incredible to her to have an orgasm with so little extra physical stimulus, but it filled her inside more than any unfeeling piece of metal up her ass could do. She became aware of the last woman and her impending use. People were moving towards her and preparing. To her shock, Dave had moved out from behind her and opened the front of his trousers. The woman's hair was grabbed and she was roughly pulled up and told to open her "slut's mouth." When the perfect "O" of her lips had been formed, he thrust his hard cock into her face and pushed her all the way down until his bulbous head was buried in her throat. She was held there and everyone in the room could hear her labored breathing through her nose. She relaxed her throat to accept the girth of him and he held her there. She sounded as if she might gag and still he pressed her face into his short pubic hair. A new woman moved up behind her wearing an impossibly large strap on dildo. Short, spiky blond hair, small breasts, and a flat stomach made her look like the athlete she was. She looked around at the crowd as a cowboy might just before he mounts the meanest bull at the rodeo. He might get thrown from the animal, he might get gored, or he might get his guts stomped in, but there is a chance that he will succeed and become the hero. So he wants to remember this moment, savor the feeling of all eyes being on him and thinking, "I'm the only one here who knows that this is going to happen." He wants to smile at the crowd while thinking, "You people have no faith. You just don't know me, do you? I can't lose..." So while Dave impaled the woman's beautiful face on his large cock, the blond placed the tip of the dildo at the entrance to the woman's vagina. She was still holding her own, not choking on the penis in her throat through a supreme effort of will on her part. But when the artificial cock entered her, stretched her hole, and then proceeded to push its entire lubed length fully into her, it felt like someone had punched her cervix. She was only able to maintain for a few seconds and then her mind began to lose control of her body. Her mouth coughed and gagged around the cock in it and her knees bent as the cock was driven into her over and over. The blond was merciless, fucking her charge as if the older woman owed her money. For less than ten minutes the woman was used as simply two convenient holes that needed to be filled. Her face was a willing receptacle for Dave's cock, for his pleasure at dominating her with his appendage. Her pussy was abused simply because the dominant younger woman behind her enjoyed doing it, making older bisexual "broads" as she called them, howl from her use of them. Two orifices, two invasions, two different goals. But she took it. She took the stretching of her pussy by the huge dildo and she endured the face fucking she was receiving because of her submissiveness, because of her willingness to be used by two people she trusted, because in her slave's mind, her master had lent her to them for this use and she knew it pleased him to see her so desired. Spent, exerted, and used, finally she was released. Two cocks--one flesh and one vinyl--exited opposite ends of her body at the same time and she sadly, felt empty. A long string of saliva stretched from her lips to the tip of the cock that had so recently been down her throat and for a moment, she wished that she had been allowed to feel it spasm in her, to fill her cum-hungry mouth with his warm, white cum. But that had not been part of the deal; she knew her place. She was doing what was expected and would receive what he decided. And if she was good, she'd be rewarded by her master later. But this was not about her; she knew her place and quickly knelt. She could feel liquid and lube mixed together around her lower opening and her mouth was still wet, but she ignored it all and placed herself in a position like all of the other girls (for the twins were kneeling beside each other now and holding hands.) Both people, Dave and the blond with the cock, simultaneously said, "Thank you, Marna." The naked blond moved away into the crowd to where Amelia could not see movement. The room dimmed and the only light left was at the center, shining its soft glow down on Amelia and the circle of submissives kneeling around her. The rope went up another inch and Amelia felt the tug, was sure that the anal hook would lift her off the floor if it was pulled up any further. Dave turned towards her and Mary picked something up that she could not see. A leather riding crop caressed her inner thighs as the bobbing, spit covered cock bobbed in front of her Dominant as he moved her way. Amelia's bliss increased as she found her worth to him increase and she felt the outpouring of love for her from this group. Everyone in the room was there for her pleasure, she suddenly realized. Every friend in the room, passing acquaintance, and recognized face had come to see Amelia fly.