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Shawn Ch. 01

By: Ariel797



She became vaguely aware of lying on a bed, and movement. The movement, she began to realize, was due to her being in some sort of traveling mobile home, which was currently traveling. The vehicle hit a bump in the road, and she heard the muffled sound of a woman complaining. This was followed by some laughter, then the drone of the wheels on the road took over once again.

She glanced around the room; tiny. Almost claustrophobic in its compactness. In fact, the bed she was lying on appeared to take the bulk of the room. She could see that a blanket was thrown over her; moving her left hand carefully and lifting an edge, she saw that underneath she wore shorts and a T-shirt, socks. Nothing alarming.

And yet she was alarmed. She couldn't remember her name, and she was certain she had never seen this - this mobile home? - before. Closing her eyes, she tried to recall her name, facts, anything to identify herself, to introduce herself to the stranger that she was now. Nothing. She began to panic and sat up, hearing a slight clinking noise as she did. Throwing back the blanket revealed that the right foot had a leather cuff that was attached to the post of the bed. She struggled to undo it. It was locked. She sat, uncertain of what was going on, swaying slightly as the mobile home traveled on, taking her she did not know where, removing her from equal uncertainty.

More observation revealed sliding doors to the right of her, in the wall; presumably a closet. A tiny cabinet shoved against the wall; space enough to edge by to the bed or open a cabinet drawer just enough to get something out. That was all the room there was. 

That, and her growing fear of why she was here, and who was she? began to cause her more panic, and she struggled, until finally she lay down again, feeling drowsy for some reason, and eventually slept.

* * * * *

"Did you check on the girl?" asked Anthony. He was driving the Winnebago, hunkered in the seat, one earphone on and tuned to country music, the other cocked upwards so he could hear what his woman was saying.

His woman was Asian, beautiful and elegant, wearing a slim red silk gown with a slit up one leg. She would have frowned if she had known he was thinking of her as "his woman." Behind her sat two blonde females, obviously twins, watching a small TV and doing their nails. Across from them sat two elderly Asian women, known as Mama San and Auntie K. No one knew what the K stood for. No one bothered to ask. They knew that Auntie K was Mama San's sister, and that Mama San was somehow related to the beautiful Asian woman, though whether mother or aunt, no one knew on that, either. But with Mama San, nobody felt comfortable asking questions, either. She was tiny and wrinkled and old and ferocious. Even Anthony felt nervous around her. There was a cruelty to the woman that made him mind his manners around her. As for Anthony, he sometimes wondered how a black man ended up with such an odd group, but as the only male, he was content to puff out his chest at times. 

He was also a massive man, well-built, dedicated to the weights which were nestled solidly in the back in the room that he shared with Anna of the red silk gown. 

Anthony was their bouncer, their protector, but Anna was the mistress, the leader, with Mama San and Auntie K as her reinforcements.

It was the girl in the little room that worried Anthony. Anna had returned to their camp two days ago, grim and silent, answering no questions. All she would say was that the girl could no longer speak, had lost her memory, and that no one was to question Anna's decision on what to do with her. It worried Anthony. He had a suspicion that Anna was anxious; he knew enough Japanese to understand that an overheard argument between Mama San and Anna meant that even Mama San was upset, and that scared Anthony. Anything that worried Mama San scared Anthony. He was basically a gentle man, adored women, and had his own fetishes and kinks that Anna satisfied. He was content to drive them about to their little private parties, a little on the outskirts of legal, but not really dangerous.

This, however, smacked of dangerous.

The girl had been asleep in the back seat of the Camry that was now being towed by the Winnebago. Anna had gotten Anthony to lift the girl and place her on the bed. Anthony thought the girl was drugged. She had slept for almost two days, only groggily moving about to go to the bathroom, and even seemed unaware of that. Mama San and Auntie K had had to help her. 

The girl was pretty, Anthony thought. Young. Maybe early 20's. Red hair to the shoulders, green eyes, pale white skin without freckles. Peaches and cream, his mama used to call it. 

Still, he was worried. He glanced in the mirror at Auntie K. She was snoring. Mama San jabbed her in the side. Auntie K snorted, moved, and went back to sleep. It was peaceful. 

Except for the girl in the back.

* * * * *

In two days, the Winnebago was parked at a campground near Savannah, Georgia, close to a beach. The twins were attracting some attention with their blonde good looks and playful manner. Anthony was reading Zane Grey, sipping a beer, and sitting in the shade. Anthony fancied himself a cowboy, in his dreams. A western knight protecting the maidens of his ranch. He kept an eye on the twins, who went by the names of Bambi and Bunni. He wasn't sure what their real names were. It didn't matter. They were part of his family. It appeared that the girl was too, now.

The girl was being called Shawn. Whether that was her name or not, he didn't know. He didn't ask. This had been the first morning she had appeared to eat breakfast with them. She seemed confused and upset. He felt sorry for her. He had tried to give her another bowl of cereal, but Mama San had snapped at him not to waste food on somebody who wasn't earning their keep. Anthony's cowboy generosity told him to sneak the girl a little food later in the day.

Everyone had been sent outside to the beach, except for Anna, Mama San, and the girl. Auntie K had gone shopping. Anthony had just seen her drive up, bustling inside with two bags. He wondered what was going on. 

* * * * *

It was just as well he wasn't inside to watch. His chivalrous instincts would have caught him Mama San's wrath. She was already angry with the girl, who was being stubborn.

Shawn, as she was being called, was fairly small. Petite, short, tiny waist, slender legs. Mama San was pleased. The girl was not. She made to stand nude before Anna and Mama San. Shawn did not like this. She was fairly certain this was not her habit to stand nude. She had grabbed for her clothes twice, until Mama San had gotten them and cut them up with a pair of scissors. 

"You not wear clothes till I say!" snapped Mama San, shaking the scissors at Shawn. Anna watched, arms crossed. "We need to do something about the hair," she said.

Mama San nodded. 

They had begun by cutting Shawn's hair until it was a chic bob, angling down towards her chin, with bangs. Next, they dyed her hair black. With the pale skin, she immediately took on a more Gothic look, which caused both Anna and Mama San to nod in satisfaction. Anna left the room and returned with a set of contacts, the type one could wear for days without removing. They were purple and caused no change to her vision, which was fine, but again the effects were immediate: a pale-skinned petite woman with black hair and violet eyes, bangs that now looked seductive as they swept across the tops of her eyes. They looked at the crotch, then at each other.

"Now we need to shave her," said Anna, just as they heard the car door close. Auntie K had arrived.

Auntie K's bags were tossed to one corner of the room. Shawn had not been pleased about having her hair dyed, but she shook her head "no" vigorously about having her crotch shaved. This almost seemed to please Mama San, who nodded at Auntie K. 

Each took one of Shawn's arms; Anna pulled a small table out, propped up the leaves, placed a blanket on it. They forced the young woman onto the table on her back, Auntie K holding the slender wrists over the girl's head. Anna pulled out brackets, grasped one ankle, and pulled it out. She began lashing it to the bracket while Mama San tied the other leg. Shawn heaved, tugging at her wrists, lifting her hips and struggling to close her legs. She was shaking her head no from side to side. They ignored her. Mama San placed cuffs around the wrists and pulled them over the girl's head cruelly, back and then down, tying it to a rung under the table. She smiled at the girl coldly. "You not move now," she said, "or I cut pussy and you bleed bad."

Shawn shivered, jerking a little when she felt Mama San's wrinkled hand touch her clit. The old woman pinched it tightly, pulling it up. Shawn's head went back a little, and she lifted her hips. "She gonna make a nice slut before we done," said Mama San. 

The two old women began shaving the girl's crotch, pulling at the lips, the clit, then working a wax onto the whole area to make certain it was smooth. They powdered it. It felt cool to the girl, but she trembled. She knew she had never shaved there before. And the hands touching her, and her legs tied open - she didn't like that she couldn't close her legs. She felt her inner thighs growing sore as she tried to clamp them shut, and the bonds held. 

Anna sat to one side, doing her nails, while the women worked. Shawn's body was completely smooth of hair except for her brows and head before they were done. The touching had unnerved her. Mama San seemed to delight in this. At times she would pinch the girl and tell her to be still. 

When they were done, Shawn thought they might let her go. But Auntie K got the bags and showed them to the other two women. Anna nodded. "You did well."

A leg was freed, but before she could kick, Auntie K held it firmly for one so old in appearance, while Mama San began to roll a length of hose up the girl's smooth leg. The leg was retied and the next leg clothed in hose. Thigh-high, white, silky, lacey edges. Shawn closed her eyes when she felt the old woman's hand smoothing up and down the length of the hose. "This nice, nice and slutty." 

They brought out a pair of boots that came above Shawn's knees, and each in turn was placed on a leg so that the hose peeked over the top, lace above leather, innocence above sin. Now the arms were freed, yet held, and a short jacket placed on her, and then she was tied again. The jacket was leather, black, matching the boots. It smelled good yet frightened Shawn. It was left open, made to hang that way, coming just below the shoulder blades, barely covering her breasts. A collar placed around her neck with a D ring at the front; short black gloves made from black leather that was soft were placed on her hands. She clenched them into fists, trying the cuffs again.

Mama San was not pleased. She snapped her fingers at Auntie K, who scurried away and returned with a small cedar box. She opened it and held it out to Mama San. 

"You try get away! You not stay still! You be punished," snapped Mama San fiercely. She showed Shawn a clover clamp, opening it and shutting it, smiling evilly the whole time. She threaded a chain through the girl's ring collar, hooked each end to a clamp. She pinched the girl's nipples with her fingernails, making Shawn arch her back in pain. "Good," said Mama San. The clamp was placed on the nipple with a snap. It was meant to hurt, and it did. The other nipple was tortured by the old fingernails, then it, too, was placed in the clover clamp's cruel embrace. The chain was short enough that each time the girl moved her head back even a little, it tugged painfully at the clamps. She did just this without meaning to when she felt something cold between her legs. She lifted her head again, watching. Mama San had a bowl of something, and a brush. She was dabbing it on the girl's crotch. 

Mama San held up the bowl and grinned. She had few teeth. "This ginger. My own secret recipe!" she cackled. Auntie K chuckled and wheezed. She patted Shawn's stomach lightly while Mama San pulled out one lip, then the other, daubing the spicy liquid onto the girl, rubbing it in. It burned. Shawn took a deep breath and her head went back again when she felt the brush go just inside her, felt the juice trickle in, felt the burning.

"We train you," said Mama San. "We train you to be good slut." 

"Nobody know her now," said Auntie K. She rarely spoke. Mama San hissed angrily at her, nodding at the girl, but Shawn did not seem aware of what had been said. She was pulling at the wrist cuffs. Her arms overhead and bent backwards made it hard to breathe. Her stomach was sucked in. She felt so open and vulnerable. 

After a few more minutes, Mama San seemed satisfied.

"How long will it take?" asked Anna. Anna had a very cultured, rich voice. It was soothing and chilling at the same time. It lacked emotion. 

Mama San shrugged. "Maybe day, maybe two. We wait, do it again, hmm, few hour." Anna nodded.

The burning continued, with a warmth spreading. Mama San leaned over Shawn's face. "You feel that girl? You feel?" Shawn stared at her with her purple eyes. "Soon you pussy burn, soon you be a good slut."

Mama San stood up. She nodded at Auntie K, who produced the cedar box again.

Anna stood and came to the table. "Try this one," she said, pointing with a polished nail in the box. 

Mama San cackled. She held up a small silver thing and showed it to Shawn, who didn't understand what it meant.

The old woman reached down, grasped Shawn's clit, pinched it and pulled it up. Then she clasped the silver ring on it. It clamped into placed snugly, not budging, keeping the clit tight and pinched and pounding with the blood in it. It throbbed, matching the other throbbing that had started with the ginger liquid. Shawn squirmed.

Mama San wasn't finished. She took two silver chains, fine in their workmanship, and looped them around the outer sides of Shawn's thighs. Auntie K helped her. They took clamps, placed them on the lips of the pussy, pulled them open wide, hurting her a little. The chains were attached to the clamps, and she was held open, wide, with the burning and throbbing from the ginger increasing.

"We leave her here now," said Mama San. Anna nodded. She seemed bored. They left the room, and Shawn lay bound to the table, stretched with her legs wide open, with her stomach flattened inwards by the tightness of her bonds, with her pussy spread wide. She felt cool air blowing across her crotch lightly, and shivered.

After a time that seemed like hours, she found that she was growing wet, that she could feel the clamp on her clit jerking in time with her hips which had begun to lift up and down. That she was wanting something to touch her there, something - something in her. She began to yearn for it, want it, to the point of feeling miserable. She began to be aware of voices, a man's voice she didn't recognize, outside the window of the mobile's bedroom. She tried to listen but failed to hear. She was thrusting up with her hips now, wanting. Needing.

She was sure she had never done this type of thing before, either.

The man's voice was inside now. Shawn was still trying to concentrate on his voice, yet still miserable with lust and some uncontrollable urge. The door opened. Mama San entered first, subservient outwardly, bowing respectfully to Anna. Shawn barely noticed. The man came closer, whistling as he saw Shawn.

"She's a beauty!" he said. His voice sounded southern, mellow. A little uneducated. Shawn glanced at him. He wore a sheriff's uniform. Anna smiled at him. "Undress for me," she said. The man swallowed, looked at Shawn again, then obeyed quickly. 


Shawn found herself torn between listening and watching the man, and trying to press her legs together. At one point Mama San leaned over and whispered in her ear "feel more like slut now, yes missy?" and then tugged at the clamps on the nipples. It hurt. Shawn found that the pain seemed to make the throbbing in her pussy grow stronger.

Anna put the man throw some mild flogging, some spanking. He groveled at her feet; she spanked him in turn. He kissed her foot; she bound his balls, smacking them with her open hand. He groaned, she smiled. And Shawn continued to grow more wet between her legs.

At last Anna seemed pleased with the man. He was panting, on the floor, bright red marks on his bottom. She told him to stand. He was erect, almost trembling. 

"You have done well," she told him. 

"Mistress, thank you," he said, his head lowered. His chest was heaving from excitement. His cock jerked.

She nodded at Shawn. "Would you like to put a finger in her?" she said.

Shawn tightened, trying to twist to one side. No!

The man beamed, excited. "Can I put my cock in her?" he asked.

"No!" snapped Anna. He quickly groveled on the ground, licking her shoe, until she was pleased once more. She nodded at Mama San.

"Always use glove," said Mama San. She took the man's hand and began pulling a glove over it, latex, snapping the cuff around his wrist when she was done. She stepped back.

Anna came over to the man, nudging him around to face Shawn. She leaned over, her mouth at his ear.

"Do you like what you see?" she asked. He nodded mutely, mesmerized. Shawn twisted, trying to free herself, tugging at her own clamps. Anna shoved him forward a little. 

"Please me now, and some day I may let you put your cock in her," she said. She picked up the man's gloved hand, took his index finger, put it to her mouth, sucked it a little. 

He breathed deeply. "Oh Mistress," he said. She smiled. 

"You have earned my pleasure in this," she said.

He nodded, eager. 

Shawn shook her head no, no! and the man did not watch her. The story had been right about Shawn; she could not speak. Whatever had happened to her, she could not speak. She could not say no, beg him to stop, beg to be let go.

She could only lie there, bound tightly, spread wide open, the room quiet, only the sound of the man breathing heavily with excitement, grunting a little as he tried to keep from cumming. 

He took his gloved finger, long and fat, and shoved it into Shawn. She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, and began frantically tugging at her cuffs. She bucked, and this excited him, and he shoved again with his finger. She had tightened around his finger to try to keep him out, but this caused him to moan. "Please Mistress," he whispered huskily, not even realizing he had said anything. The girl bucked and flung her hips about, trying to get away. He thrust his finger in and out of her, excited. After a moment, Anna told him to stop, that he had pleased her. The girl was panting, tears in her eyes, shaking violently.

Anna took the man to the bathroom, allowing him to cum for her while she watched. He thanked her, paid her, and asked if he could come again. 

"It's been a while since you been in these parts," he said, buttoning up his shirt. Anna nodded, already showing signs of boredom. He bowed slightly, smiling, and left to get into his squad car, whistling happily.

Inside, Mama San and Auntie K were already untying the girl. 

"You little bitch," Mama San was saying. "You almost ruin good paying customer! Make him go away, how we get money, huh?" She dug in her nails on the tender flesh of the girl's pussy. The clamps were left in place as they helped her off the table. Shawn sank to the floor on her knees and hands, trembling. 

Anna entered the room, closed the door firmly, and locked it. She was angry. Shawn looked up, still shaking.

"You are about to learn, girl, not to cause one of my customers any problems," said Anna. 

"We going to punish?" asked Mama San.

"We are going to teach, first," said Anna. She sat in a plush chair. Auntie K pulled out a padded stool and placed it before her.


Shawn Ch. 01



Shawn was escorted to the stool, made to sit on it, and then forced to lean back. 

"Take off the clamps," said Anna.

"But - "

"I said, take them off. It's too much too soon."

The clamps were removed, but Shawn was forced to lie back on the ottoman. It supported her back, but her head hung over. Her wrists here cuffed again, pulled underneath. Auntie K had been busily cuffing and tying the girl's ankles so that they spread outwards, heels on the ground, with the legs again open. The wrist cuffs were chained, then the chain tied beneath her to the stool's rung. She was arched strongly, unable to see what Anna was doing.

Anna stood, walked to the stool, and put her foot next to Shawn's head. "Do you see my shoe?" she asked. Shawn nodded mutely.

"Look at it."

A high heel, at first glance. At second glance, rich leather, a stiletto heel, narrow, high. Pointed toe, tiny gold threads woven into the rich red leather that matched the dress. Shawn looked, then looked up at Anna.

"Now kiss the toe."

Shawn shook her head. Anna smiled. It was a cold smile.

Anna moved around and sat down again. It was quiet in the room for a minute. Shawn tugged on her bonds a little. She felt the soft plop of someone placing a foot on the ottomon.

The foot was between her legs.

"I can bring pleasure," said Anna.

Shawn stiffened. The toe of the shoe gently touched her clit, lightly, gently rubbing it back and forth over the soreness where the clamp had been.

Anna spoke softly, gently. "Does the feel good?"

It did, and it confused Shawn. She knew she had never done this, either. But the ginger still burned, she was still wet, still frightened. The toe of the shoe was gentle. She began to relax a little.

Anna nodded. "Good. It is as I said. Too much too soon."

The shoe gently mashed against the clit, pressing, then gently rubbed. It was mesmerizing.

It was good. 

Shawn relaxed more. She began to enjoy it, then felt guilty. But the toe was rubbing softly. It couldn't be wrong, could it? Shawn felt her hips lift a little to meet the shoe. 

Anna smiled.

"Do you want more, my little slut?"

Without even seeing if Shawn nodded or not, Anna shifted her foot. Now the stiletto heel rested on the clit, touching, now rubbing a little, rolling the clit around gently. 

Shawn felt the heel ease gently inside her. She arched a little, the movement opening her a little more. The heel slipped in further until the toe of the shoe again rested on the clit.

"Good," whispered Anna softly. Shawn felt like weeping. She had finally pleased the woman. She could relax.

Anna continued playing with the girl a few minutes longer. Satisfied at last, she nodded at Mama San, who was frowning. "Give her some time. And tonight we all play with her. And she wears nothing more inside than she does now."

"No punish?"

"No, not yet." Anna leaned down, smiling, and put her hand on Shawn's cheek. "This time, she did fine."

Anna left. Mama San leaned over Shawn. 

"Maybe she think you fine, but me, no. Me, I think you need be punish, but she, she say no. But you wait, missy. Soon, Mama San gonna punish you. She gonna hurt you."

And these were the words Shawn remembered while more of the ginger was applied to her sore clit and pussy, when she was finally untied, when she was made to walk into the room where the other members of the little home were already seated, watching TV, eating supper. They glanced at her, at the red marks on the pussy, at the clothes, and said nothing. As far as Anthony was concerned, it was no different than when the twins paraded around in their underwear. Or less. He went back to eating his chicken.

And thus began Shawn's days as a slut, a slave to an unknown captor.

To Be Continued...



Shawn Ch. 02



Four weeks had passed, training and traveling to meet Anna's customers. Men who liked being spanked, men who liked being tied, men who liked the idea of something a little different from their socially prevalent wives and their socially prevalent teas and parties. Anna's group had formed a nice routine in those four weeks while continuing to train Shawn. She only balked occasionally now. Anna was pleased. Mama San was disappointed.

They were traveling now to a nice little neighborhood near Hunter Air Force Base, about thirty miles from Savannah. Just on the outskirts of the nice little neighborhood was the seedy section of town, and tucked into the middle of that was Joey's Girls! Girls! Girls! topless bar. And in the back room of Joey's was Anna's current goal, a private showroom where she would demonstrate a little bit of S&M to the panting and well-paying delight of Southern gentlemen. Rich Southern gentlemen, she thought with a smile. 

Anna was being given a manicure by one twin, a pedicure by another. Mama San was knitting. Auntie K was slumped in a corner, mouth open, snoring. Shawn was in the back of the trailer, asleep. Anna called to Anthony. "When will we be there?"

He glanced at a mile marker. "About ten minutes."

The twins began packing up nail files and buffers and polish. 

"Wake Shawn," said Anna to Bambi. She nodded.

The trailer crunched over gravel and swung to a stop near an old tree covered in Spanish moss. Joey came out with a smile. He reached to hug Anna, who had left the trailer. She dodged his hands and kissed the air near his cheek. He smiled broadly. 

"Hey, got a great group lined up for tonight! And got a father-son deal tomorrow night!"

Anna smiled. The father-son meetings were a tradition. A Southern gentleman would die before breaking a tradition. Traditions meant money. Anna liked tradition. 

Joey helped Anthony hook up the trailer for lights and plumbing. Anna went back inside to Shawn's room. Waking Shawn was not simply a matter of telling her it was time to get up. She had to be untied as well.

The first couple of weeks, the girl had tried to leave the trailer. This made Mama San happy until she realized she was not going to be allowed to punish Shawn. "Not just yet," Anna said. Mama San frowned and glared at Shawn.

But by now, Anna had used the tying to make Shawn more comfortable with just being tied. With having her legs open. With being exposed. 

And with having the ginger liquid spread on her each night by Mama San. If Anna was not watching, the old woman dabbed on a little too much. Deliberately. It made Shawn writhe against the cuffs on her ankles and wrists, pushing up with her hips even for a gentle teasing flicker of the sheet against her pubic area. It made Shawn rut and open her legs and not care who saw. 

If Anna ever noticed her doing this, she was pleased. She would let her stay that way for an hour or two, panting, and then let one of the twins push a dildo in Shawn for the night, or tie a butterfly vibrator to her, so the girl would sleep. 

And that was how Shawn slept now, and even napped that way. 

Bambi was unbuckling the ankle cuffs when Anna came to the door. The room was too small for a third person. She looked at Shawn, who was yawning slightly but looked rested. Good. Anna went in search of Mama San.

"Tease her. Have the twins help you. Give her the liquid twice. Make her ready." 

Mama San nodded. Anna left for dinner with Anthony and Joey. The twins left to make a few calls. They had been here before. 

Shawn took a shower while Auntie K fanned herself in the small bathroom. They were taking no chances. They had used Shawn in a few demos, but not in a group this size. And Anna had plans for Shawn that night. 

The two elderly women patted Shawn dry and turned her this way and that. They checked for smooth skin and a hairless pubic area. She squirmed when Mama San dug her nails into her clit, pulling it out to be sure that Shawn was smooth. Mama San smiled grimly and nodded at Auntie K. They put cuffs on Shawn's wrists and pulled her arms overhead. Anthony had long ago installed a series of bars overhead in the trailer. They were meant to hold someone's weight. 

Shawn's legs were pulled out and each ankle cuffed and tied to bars on the side of the bathroom walls. Anthony was useful. Shawn squirmed, earning a pinch on her bottom from Auntie K. 

"You be still!" she snapped. They continued inspecting her, prodding, poking, running their hands along her body to make sure she was smooth, her skin flawless. They checked her hair. The dye held beautifully. The eyes were a deep violet from the tinted lenses. 

"It almost 7:00" said Auntie K at one point. They finished the girl's makeup, heavy and slutty, mysterious. A Goth look of sorts, yet a touch of innocence. Auntie K fastened the collar around Shawn's neck. Mama San pulled up a stool and sat with her bowl of ginger juice. She pulled open one lip, dabbed it liberally, then dabbed the other. She painted the outside of the lips as well as the clit, eased the brush to just underneath, near the anus, then dipped the brush into the bowl again, picking up a dollop of thick juice. Auntie K frowned. "That a lotta juice," she said doubtfully. She was brushing and smoothing Shawn's hair. Mama San shrugged. She pushed the brush inside Shawn, twirling it around, then jabbed it in the bowl again, daring her sister to say anything. Auntie K shrugged. Mama San pushed the brush inside Shawn again. This time Shawn shuddered slightly, moving against the brush a little.

"Slut," hissed Mama San. "Just remember, be good slut tonight." 

They dressed Shawn, unbuckling one limb at a time, then cuffing her again when done. Collar. Short leather jacket. Half gloves with no fingers. Lacey thi hi hose. Boots just over the knee with a low pointed heel. A silver chain around the waist. 

Auntie K pulled open the jacket. Her eyes were getting poor. She stood behind Shawn, holding the jacket out of the way. Mama San lifted a tube out of a box, placed it to Shawn's nipple, and pulled out on a plunger. When she was satisfied that it would hold, she did the same with the other nipple, then pulled the clit into a third vacuum tube. The women left to change into their own robes, leaving Shawn spreadeagle in the bathroom, vacuum pulling her nipples and clit into the tubes, swelling and becoming sensitive. 

After about fifteen minutes the two women returned. Mama San deftly rolled a nipple noose over one tube to the base of the nipple. She pulled it under the tube, released the pressure, removed the tube, and pulled the noose tight. It clicked into place with the aid of a bead. The other nipple was lassooed as well. Both nipples now stood out, engorged, tender, swollen, harnessed in a little ring of fire held in place by a bead. More beads bumped and swayed gently against her breasts. Beads dangled on four or five strands, two or three inches from each nipple. Mama San painted each nipple with ginger juice. 

The clit was harnessed with a silver metal ring, and the clit was so swollen by then that it puffed over the sides of the ring and jerked slightly, the blood pounding in excitement. Mama San painted it with juice liberally, re-painted the nipples, then re-painted the lips, clit, and shoved the brush inside the girl twice more. By then Shawn was arching her back, her eyes half-closed, pushing against the brush.

Auntie K cackled. "She think it a little cock! Hee hee." Mama San grunted. She thought a moment, then slid the wet brush to flick around the outside of the anus. She glanced at Auntie K and grinned, then pushed the brush inside Shawn again. Shawn was close to coming, but Mama San pulled the brush out. She grasped a swollen nipple in her blunt nails and pinched. 

"You be a good slut later."

Shawn spent a miserable half hour or more, tied spreadeagle. Anna entered the private room and began a demo with the twins. The gentlemen sipped bourbon and sat on sofas or at tables in comfortable leather chairs. They watched the twins hold each other in mock fear, saw one tie the other, looked as Anna flicked her whip delicately at Bambi's bottom, or at Bunni's breasts. The men shifted uncomfortably, feeling their pants grow tight. It was all very genteel and exciting. Anna announced a second show after a short break. The men drank more bourbon and made donations. Anna was never paid. She merely accepted donations from generous patrons.

One of the men was in a wheelchair, chatting with two men who sat on a small, well-padded leather sofa. 

"This bores me," said the wheelchair man. He tossed back a bourbon. Dim light caught silver hair and hid age. He was nearly sixty. He had hoped that tonight he would feel much younger.

"Hey no, Eric, you need to wait," said one of the men amiably. He puffed on a cigar. "If Anna says she has a show coming up, believe me, she has a show." The third man nodded. 

"I'm staying. Besides, what else would I be doing?"

What else indeed? Eric shrugged and motioned to Joey. "Scotch this time." Joey nodded and skittered away. The cigar man chuckled. 

Mama San personally escorted Shawn to the little dressing room. Auntie K was helping Bambi lace up in a leather corset. 

"You stay HERE," said Mama San. Shawn had wandered over to the curtain. She came back and stood near Mama San. Mama San looked down. She grabbed Shawn's hand and smacked it.

"No! You no touch self, only Mistress can do!" She smacked Shawn's hand again. 

This was getting to be a problem. She'd found Shawn fingering herself three times in two days now. Too much ginger. She grinned. Maybe that meant she could punish the girl later.

Mama San helped with the corset, then aided Bunni. Auntie K helped Anna change her dress. So it was a moment before they realized that Shawn was no longer in the room.

"Little bitch!" growled Mama San. Surely she would get to hurt the girl tonight. Surely. 

She went to the curtain. Please don't let her – damn. Shawn was out there. With Eric Johannsen no less.

Johannsen was a corporate bigshot from Atlanta, visiting friends. Twenty years before he'd had an accident and lost the use of his legs. Rumor had it that he had developed a few "kinks" as compensation for an equally useless reproductive system.

But Johannsen had power, and a lot of money. If he got angry, he could call in favors and Joey's could be shut down. Anna would get unwanted attention. 

Mama San looked worried. Especially now, unwanted attention was bad. She slipped into the dark room She would grab Shawn, make many apologies to Johannsen, and then punish Shawn with every fantasy dream of pain she could come up with. 

A hand grabbed her arm before she could leave.

"Look," whispered Anna.

Damn. Shawn had wandered directly to Johannsen, who was – laughing? 

* * * * *

Johannsen had been surprised when his friend, Stephens, had whistled low. "Pussy alert!" said Stephens, choking on a cloud of his own cigar smoke. They looked at Shawn, wearing boots and jacket, who smiled. Stephens motioned with his hand for her to come over. She came closer. Johannsen put out an arm, draping it around her waist. 

"And what's your name, honey?" he asked, smiling. His hand was at her waist. It was small and slender. 

She tapped her mouth with a finger and shook her head. 

"Cat got your tongue?" said Stephens. He was puffing faster on his cigar. "Damn, Eric, this kind of stuff always happens to you!" He chuckled.

The third man leaned forward. Don Morris. "Maybe she can't talk?" he asked timidly. He always sounded timid, right up to the minute he closed a big deal. In his favor. 

Shawn nodded and pointed at him, nodding again. Johannsen frowned. "You can't talk?" She shook her head no. Then she smiled at him and reached back with one hand. She pulled his hand lower and back, so that it was on smooth firm bottom. He rubbed it a little, then patted it. She smiled.

"Ah. You like that?" She nodded. Right now, almost anything felt good.

Eric patted the bottom again. "You want it a little harder?" She thought about it, then nodded, motioning with her thumb and forefinger. "A little bit more." 

He smacked her bottom gently. Several of the members had turned, talking quietly, sipping drinks, but watching. She jumped a little, then grinned. Made the motion with thumb and forefinger again, a little wider apart. "More."

He rubbed the small bottom, then slapped it. She half-closed her eyes, reached back, and held his hand to her bottom. He reached with his other finger and flicked a strand of beads from one nipple. 

"These hurt?" 

She grinned, made the motion again. "A little." But she smiled. 

And then Anna, watching, grinned. "I can't believe it." Neither could Mama San.

Shawn wanted something inside her, or at least, something pushed against her. She hiked up one leg and propped her knee on the arm of Johannsen's wheelchair. Stephens almost choked on his cigar. Eric smiled, rubbed his hand on the little bottom. His other hand flicked the swollen clit. She shuddered and pushed against his hand. He was fascinated. He pulled gently at the clit, rolling it between his fingers. She arched her back, the jacket opening. 

"Look at those tits!" said Morris.

"Tits hell, look at that pussy!" said Stephens.

Anna came out. "Now you have seen only part of my surprise, gentlemen."

* * * * *

The evening had gone well, thought Anna. In the second half, she had tied Shawn spreadeagle on the small stage, mainly from fear that she would wander off again. She had chuckled with the audience about a need to punish the little slut. Anna was beginning to suspect something. She pulled out a set of clover clamps and had Bambi place them on the girl's lips. The audience was rapt. Bunni and Anna threaded a chain through the D ring on the girl's collar, clipped a clover clamp on each nipple. The breasts were pulled up slightly. Bambi looked up. "Get the clothespins," said Anna. Bambi opened the box.

Bunni took a set of clothespins from Bambi. With Shawn's arms outstretched and overhead, the jacket was open, the breasts exposed. Anna could see the nipples tight, and the clit quivering. The girl was excited. Well well. 

The twins placed clothespins around each of Shawn's nipples, on the underside of the breasts; along the ribs and to the waist; the insides of the thighs, and on each lip on each side of the clover clamps. Anna attached a small chain to each clamp with a weight dangling, pulling at the tender lips. Shawn's head was back, pulling the nipple chains. Bambi and Bunni stood. Anna thought as the audience watched, no sound but heavy breathing. Anna stood behind Shawn, reached around, smiled at the men. She pinched up skin to one side of the clit, against the bone, before the start of the leg. She gripped it with a clothespin. She did the same to the other side. Thought. Added two more to each side. The girl looked glazed over, quivering, excited. Anna grabbed the ring of clothespins around the nipples and squeezed, pulling at skin. Shawn's head went back further, her mouth open, panting slightly. "Good," Anna whispered. She was taking a risk. But the girl was wet. She could see it on her legs. 

Anna smiled again at the men, who were leaning forward. She took another clothespin from Bambi, who was watching quietly. She was used to Anna going with her feelings, her intuition. 

Anna took the clothespin, waved it at the audience. Reached down, pulled the swollen clit out, clamped it with a clothespin. Shawn jerked. Johannsen frowned, watching. Anna took another clothespin. She had found the nerve in the clit and moved her fingertips past the edge of it. She waved the pin, then clamped it to the very end of the clit. It quivered in the air. Anna reached down, her palms against Shawn's wet skin, and rubbed up, twisting clothespins along the way. Shawn jerked again and again. Damn but the girl was coming, and not just once either. 

Anna called for her crop. She reached underneath and tapped the clothespins, caused the weights to swing. Shawn's hips thrust forward. Anna smacked her bottom with a crop once, twice, again. Each time the clothespins jerked and tugged, Shawn's head pulled back on the chains holding the nipples, and Anna smacked her again. She knew the girl orgasmed again at least once. Maybe she came a second time, fast on the other. She moved to the front, to one side. Men stood and edged forward, watching, quiet. No sound but heavy breathing. Eric rolled forward a little. 

Anna flicked each of the clothespins off with a crop. By the end she knew Shawn had come again twice. Her legs were wet. The men were standing, clapping, by the time the last clothespin had come off. Anna handed Bambi the crop, stood behind Shawn, reached in front and grabbed the clover clamps. She pulled outwards, pulling the lips open wide. Eric moved closer to the stage, watching. Anna jerked first one, then the other, pulling them off. Shawn opened her mouth, shuddering. She really was a slut, thought Anna. A pain slut.

The evening ended with promises for "something even better" the next night, though Anna had no idea what that would be. She wasn't worried though. She always came up with something good. 

She was so pleased that when they were going to bed that evening and Bambi came up to her and told her that Shawn was really miserable, could Bambi use the dildo on her? that Anna smiled. She went to Anthony in their room. He was reading a new Louis L'Amour book. Anna reached down, grabbed his cock, and began stroking it firmly. His eyes shut. "Baby, please tell me you aren't just teasing." Even calling her "baby" didn't upset Anna tonight. 

"Go in there to Shawn," she said. Anthony opened his eyes. 

"She ok?"

"She's very ok. You've both earned a treat."

Anthony wasn't sure about this part. He'd done this twice before, when Mama San was still trying to figure out the right amount of juice to use on the girl. 

He padded down the short hall to Shawn's room. She was cuffed spreadeagle on the bed. She was tugging at the cuffs, jerking her hips up.

"You miserable hon?" he said. He felt ok now. He was rescuing a damsel in distress. Him and his cock, hiho Silver.

Shawn nodded.

"Slow?"

She shook her head violently, panting.

"Fast?"

She nodded vigorously.

Anna stood in the doorway. She liked to watch Anthony. She knew he liked that as well. 

He was already naked. He knelt on the bed. "It's big and hard, hon," he said. Shawn nodded.

Anthony leaned on his arms and shoved into her. He heard her suck in her breath. He looked up and she nodded, gave an Ok sign with her thumb and forefinger. He proceeded to fuck the damsel in distress, feeling her tighten and shudder on his cock. He felt Anna's hand on his ass, squeezing, pinching. He got hard again and rammed Shawn.

Anna leaned down. "Fuck her hard," she whispered. "Fuck the little slut hard. Then I'm going to give you a special treat." 

Anthony groaned. He loved it when Anna talked like this. He felt like Superman. He fucked the little slut hard. He listened to Anna while she whispered and he fucked, and she squeezed and smacked him. Yes he liked his black cock in the white pussy. Yes he liked Anna watching. Yes he liked her smacking his butt. Yes he liked fucking. He finally rolled off of Shawn. Her eyes were closing into sleep. 

"That girl is gonna kill me," he groaned quietly. Anna smiled. 

"Come with me. I'm the one who is gonna kill you." Anthony groaned again, and Shawn slept. 



Shawn Ch. 03



If Joey's bar had not been raided, Anna might never have taken the risk. Anthony had an uneasy feeling that Anna was nervous about too much interest in Shawn. It wasn't like Bambi and Bunni - the twins had a small camping unit that trailed along with them, towed by the Winnebago like a calf following its mother. The twins were welcome to entertain anyone in their little camper, once it was set up. 

Shawn was always kept - hidden.

But Joey had run a redlight later that night after Anna's show. He had gone out, gotten "a little tipsy," flicked the cop who pulled him over a bird, then shot off into the darkness, speeding and weaving.

Joey's car had ended up in a ditch, but not before he had side-swiped a police car. He had spent a few hours in jail, but he hadn't sobered up enough to resist shooting the cop yet another bird as he left - and all plans for a father/son kinky evening were gone. Anna left him sitting in the jail cell, mournfully asking her if she was going to bail him out again.

"So we need the money," Anna explained again. Anna could never get enough money. Anthony suspected that between Anna and Mama San, there were little stashes hidden in several banks. But Anna still could never have quite enough.

He frowned. It had led her to do some very risky things. Anthony glanced at the television. Shawn was lying on her stomach in front of it, watching. He just hoped that Shawn wasn't one of the riskiest things Anna had yet done. 

Anthony was unhappy with the decision, but Anna had the last word. Anna always had the last word. Especially when she left him a quivering, happy mess, eager to kneel and kiss the tip of her shoe, he was so happy. 

So Joey's little adventure and Anna's thirst for more money led them to I-85, and the outskirts of Atlanta.

The weather was hot and humid. Anthony was driving along the highway wearing shorts and a tank top and comfortable old loafers. Behind his sunglasses, he was dreaming of Anthony the Cowboy, leading his ladies to a new home, rolling gently across the prairie in their covered wagon. One day he was going to get himself a piece of land out west, he mused, chewing on a toothpick and easing the Winnebago around slower vehicles.

They stopped at a friend of Anna's, if anyone was truly her friend, parking the Winnebago in the back yard. Bambi and Bunni had been told that they could go into town for the night if they wanted. They wanted.

Anthony pushed out the sides of his "covered wagon," enlarging space, making up the bed for Anna, and then clambering onto the sofa to read. He was riding alongside one of the Sacketts in the Old West, keen eyes on the alert for renegades in the canyon ahead, while Mama San and Auntie K prepared Shawn.

Shawn was very free about walking around nude, or in just thigh-hi hose now. She seemed more sensual. She seemed a little more eager to take part in preparations now.

"She just a little slut," Auntie K chortled.

It was the typical outfit: lacey delicate white thigh-hi hose peeking over the tops of black leather over-the-knee boots. The short black leather jacket. Nipple bead chains, the little gold ring around the clit. Nipples and clit swollen from vacuum pressure, tingling madly from ginger juice. Mama San had already smacked the girl's hand twice when it wandered down.

A gold waist chain was added, both ends clipping on the sides of the navel. A low-hipped, short tight little black leather skirt. A black collar with a D ring around the neck. Black leather fingerless gloves with wrist bands, with smaller D rings. Heavy eye makeup, blood red, almost black lipstick. Mama San had even rouged the nipples, which were already bulging around the tight little beaded nooses. 

The three women stood back and looked at Shawn, who stared back. 

"Be sure you have everything packed," said Anna. She left the small bathroom. 

Mama San muttered. "She be a fool on this."

"Maybe no. Maybe this a good idea?" offered Auntie K, tugging Shawn's little skirt down in the back. It barely covered the girl's bottom.

Anna called to Anthony to start the car. They had rented a sleek black Chrysler with heavily tinted windows on the sides and back. Anthony was playing chauffeur tonight. He liked the outfit. The buttons across his chest made him think of some of the cowboy comics he'd read as a kid. He adjusted his hat to a jaunty angle, escorted his ladies to the car, opened doors, and they were off to take the large risk.

...................

The "large risk" was Eric Johannsen. In a moment of lust and lewd passion, he had offered Anna a large - donation, of course, from sheer generosity on his part - if she would let the girl go to him for a day. Or two. 

By the time they had reached Atlanta, Anna and the miracle of cellphones had made plans for a tentative three days, with Mama San and Auntie K along to assist.

And Anna knew that Johannsen couldn't really, well, *do* anything with Shawn. But he liked to watch, and he had been developing a fine instinct for kink since the accident - and he had paid a lot of money. 

Still. It was a risk. Shawn could be - seen by others.

.......... 

The Chrysler took the risk-takers to a lush area near Buckhead, then turned into a very private, very secluded neighborhood. The car was allowed to enter through an open gate, which was closed behind them. 

Johannsen greeted them at the door. Another man was with him, Michael, his head of security. Eric explained as they moved into a small dining area that Michael and a very few well-trusted staff members would be there for the weekend. 

Anna nodded. She knew that Johannsen needed some assistance. 

They ate, spoke pleasantly, Shawn staring around her as she ate. Anna and Anthony left soon after the meal was finished. Mama San and Auntie K were escorted to their rooms. 

Eric rolled over to Shawn, who still sat at the table. He smiled, reached out with his finger, and tugged lightly at her jacket.

"I'd like for you to unzip that," he said quietly, still smiling. 

Shawn unzipped it.

"Open it." She did.

He rolled closer. His hand reached into her jacket. "Just like the other night!" he said, flicking the little beaded nooses that hung down. His fingernail scratched gently across the top of her nipple. She breathed a little faster.

"Stand up." She stood.

"Take off the skirt."

Shawn unzipped it. It unwrapped from her hips. She laid it on the chair behind her. 

"Open your legs a little," he commanded. He was leaning forward. His own breathing was a little fast. His hands gripped the edges of the armrests on his chair.

Shawn braced herself, legs open.

"Can you - can you open the jacket more, somehow? Can you - arch your back?"

Shawn thought a moment, then lifted her arms, clasping her fingers on top of her head, and arched her back. The jacket swung open, the beaded strands fluttered across the bottoms of the breasts. The gold ring on the clit caught the light gently.

Eric ran his finger on the ring. 

"Do you understand what you are going to be this weekend?" he asked her. She frowned, shrugged, hands still on her head. Eric stroked her waist, his hand then smoothing down her hip to her thigh. She quivered slightly.

"You're going to be a slut for me. I - can't do anything myself," he added quickly, "But I can play with you. I can watch. And I can - do things to you."

She nodded. It sounded like the kinds of things Mama San or Anna did. 

Eric tapped a com link on his chair. "Come in and clear the table."

Three men in suits entered quietly, saying nothing. They cleared the table quickly, piling things onto a cart, pulled off the tablecloth. One of the men placed a padded plastic covering on the table. The other two men knelt and began pulling things from beneath the table. 

Shawn still stood with her jacket and legs open, hands on her head. She turned from the waist, which pulled the jacket completely off of one breast.

Eric swallowed. He reached forward again, took the breast in his hand, squeezed gently. She looked at him. He felt foolish - and then she arched more, pushing the breast more snugly into his hand. He grinned.

"I understand that a little pain excites you," he told her. The three men had finished and stood to one side, silent. They were all looking at her body.

Eric nodded. "Don't be afraid," he told her, tweaking the nipple gently with his finger.

He waved the men over. They took her to the table. One lifted her onto it, pushing her back slightly. 

"Not too far," cautioned Eric. He had rolled closer, watching. He pressed a button, elevating the seat of his chair slightly along with his footrest. He had paid a lot of money for this chair. He intended to see everything. 

He pressed the com link again. "Now."

The three men adjusted Shawn on the table. Her bottom was near the edge of the table. One man placed a flat cushion beneath her hips. Another man fastened each of her wrists to a soft cuff, pulling her arms out and over her head, wide apart. Another cushion was placed beneath her upper back so that her breasts were pushed up. The man who had cuffed her wrists pulled the jacket open so that the breasts were fully exposed.

The third man had fastened her thighs and ankles to the table. Her legs were pulled tightly apart, her hips pushed up slightly by the cushion beneath, her knees bent over the sides of the table. Her legs were open so far that her thighs were almost parallel to the edge of the table. 

A woman entered the room, wearing comfortable jeans, tennis shoes, t-shirt. She was blonde and pale and tall and cool. She surveyed Shawn, made an adjustment or two, thought about it. 

She had brought an oversized bag with her. She opened it up, pulled out a belt. She pulled it beneath Shawn's waist. Michael, the security chief, helped her, lifting Shawn's hips when needed. He stared and stared at the girl's open crotch. The blonde smiled wryly, noticing this.

The belt was very tight around Shawn's waist. A thong was pulled down from the middle of the belt in the back, then up between her legs, separating into two leather strips. 

"Kira, what's that?" asked Eric, fascinated. 

"Labia spreader." Kira, the blonde, worked clinically. 

Each strip in the front was first put over the vaginal opening, then pulled out and upwards, then the end of the strip hooked onto the front of the belt. The other end was done the same way. This pulled the labia outwards tightly.

The lips throbbed. Kira produced the jar of ginger juice. She had been chatting with a reluctant Mama San. The brush was used, dabbing the lips, the opening, the clit. 

"You like that, don't you?" Kira whispered softly, smiling. She had a cold smile. Shawn shivered slightly but nodded. It was hard to see Kira. She had to lift her head because the cushion under her back pushed up her breasts.

Michael remained, but the other two men left at Eric's order. The room was quiet again. Kira put away the jar. She pulled out a pair of latex gloves, snapped them on efficiently, and pulled out a second jar. She waved the open jar near Shawn. 

"Smell that? More of that juice your pussy likes so much," she crooned. She smiled wickedly, then slowly pulled out a string of what looked like oversized pearls.

Kira took the ginger-soaked strand and slowly began pushing the pearls inside the girl's vagina. Sometimes she wiggled her finger slightly inside the girl and grinned. She knew how badly Shawn was wanting something inside her. 

"Too bad, sweetie. But you'll appreciate the jewelry soon enough," promised Kira. The last pearl was inserted. Kira tied the end loop to one of the labia spreader thongs.

Kira turned to Eric. 

"All that hot ginger on those pearls," she said, smiling, "all shoved inside her. The more she moves, the more those things will bounce and wiggle inside her. She'll be wild before I'm done."

Eric reached for his crotch without thinking, then put his hand back on the armrest. He could only watch.

Kira went to her bag and pulled out a crop, flexing it lightly. She lightly tapped Shawn's nipples with it, then gently smacked underneath a breast. Shawn jumped. Kira laughed.

"Damn," Michael muttered.

Kira stepped in front of Shawn's crotch. Eric moved his chair to one side to get a good view. Kira flicked the crop on the insides of the girl's thighs, near the crotch, not touching - now the thighs again - now just on the inside of one lip, pulled taught by the spreader - back to a breast, smacking it with the loop of the crop - now back to the thighs, the labia, then a quick sharp smack on the clit. Shawn jerked, bucking upwards.

"Ooo she IS a slut!" Kira crooned, pleased.

She flicked the mons several times until Shawn was panting, smacked the insides of the labia, the inner thighs, the breasts - Shawn was tugging wildly at the cuffs, jerking her hips upwards, pushing up even more with her breasts. She was very wet.

Kira swapped the crop for a slender cane, rapping gently on the mons, the labia, the thighs with the cane. This was replaced with small clamps along the outer edges of the lips, then a ring of them around each nipple, then two on the navel. More small clamps bit into the tender red flesh on each side of Shawn's clit, marching up each side just to the clit, then two even smaller clamps were attached on each side of the clit. They wavered in the air due to the throbbing clit. Shawn was breathing heavily and still thrusting.

"God, she wants it." Michael was mesmerized and had slipped his hand into his pants. Eric watched Kira take out a vibrator, touch each clamp.

When Shawn had tears in her eyes from frustration, Kira calmly pulled off her own pants and pulled on a strap-on. She leaned against the table facing the men, inserting the part for her in front of them, smiling. She pulled the buckles tight on the strap-on.

She reached down, pulled the loop end of the pearls free from the labia thong, then began to pull out the pearls.

"Oh noooo, little slut," she crooned again when Shawn came, "that's naughty. You can't do that unless I give permission." She pulled two or three more pearls out quickly. Shawn arched her back and hung in mid-air tightly, panting. The pleasure was too much. It was terrible. It was wonderful.

When the pearls were out, Kira said "Now give me pleasure, little slut" and pushed the strap-on into Shawn, shoving, rutting, panting herself.

Kira turned her head back to Michael. "Smack my ass!" she commanded. 

"What?"

"Just do it!" Eric yelled, excited.

Michael stepped forward, smacked Kira on the butt.

"Harder! Again!"

He smacked her bare bottom again, then again, getting excited as Kira moaned and thrust and fucked Shawn, fucked herself.

When Kira was spent, she stayed in front of Shawn for a moment, panting, hands on each side of the girl's hips.

"I am gonna fuck you over and over this weekend," she promised. "I am gonna make you fuck yourself. I am gonna have you fuck yourself in front of anyone I please. I will hurt you and give you pleasure. But I will fuck you."

She shoved into the girl once more, then out. She pulled off the strap-on, placing it in a plastic bin. Kira plucked off the clamps and tossed them into the bin as well. The beaded nipple nooses followed, as did the gold clit ring and the labia spreader.

Shawn was untied, the bin taken away by a man called into the room by Eric, and then Shawn's jacket was removed. She wore the collar, the waist chain, hose, and boots as well as her gloves. There were red flushed marks on her pussy and breasts, her nipples, her thighs. Her legs were wet, the labia swollen, the clit tender, the nipples sore and engorged. She was placed on the floor by Michael.

"Boss -" he began.

Eric shook his head. "No. Maybe later."

Michael nodded. He felt sure the girl would not have minded if he had put her back on the table and put his cock in her. He knew his cock would not have been upset at all. Not at all.

Kira snapped a leash onto the D ring of Shawn's collar, then snapped the other end onto the armrest of Eric's chair. Eric smiled, then rolled slowly forward. Shawn followed.

Eric went into several rooms. One was a billiard room. A few of the security men as well as the chef were playing. They stopped, staring. Kira, dressed again, entered smiling. She motioned to Michael. They fastened a spreader bar to Shawn's ankles, raised her hands over her head. Michael lowered another bar. Kira hooked the D rings of Shawn's wrist cuffs to each end. She stood behind Shawn, smiling at the men over Shawn's head. The girl was helpless, arms overhead, legs apart, arms apart. Michael flipped up a tile on the floor and hooked the ankle bar to a ring beneath two tiles, locking the bar into place. 

Kira cupped the girl's breasts, watching the men, smiling, squeezed them gently, rubbed her thumbs over Shawn's nipples. 

"Holy shit," said one man.

Kira pinched a nipple, twisted the other. They were hard tight peaks. Shawn's eyes half-closed.

"This is our little slut," said Kira. "See how wet her legs are?" The men obediently stared.

"Holy shit," the man said again.

Kira pulled a small chain through the collar's D ring, then hooked a clover clamp to each end. She had to lift each of Shawn's breasts to force the cruel clamp onto a nipple. The small chain pulled the nipples up, the clover clamps digging into already tender flesh.

"Are you sure she can take that much?" asked Eric.

Kira smiled. "You haven't seen how much wetter she's getting?" She pointed at Michael, who wiped Shawn's legs with a damp cloth, cleaning her. She pushed against the cloth. The men grinned.

Kira pulled out a corset belt from her bag. Michael helped her cinch it, then he went to the wall, flipped a switch, and had the wrist spreader bar lift slightly. Shawn could barely breathe. It felt yummy. The waist corset was cinched even more tightly. It made it feel like all the blood in her body was collecting in her clit and pussy lips. She leaned her back, and this pulled on the nipple chain. Her eyes half-closed, and she licked her lips.

"See what a horny little slut she is? So wicked. So happy to spread her pussy open for all of you to see." Kira grabbed the lips and clit, pinching them together. She slipped a U clamp over them, beads dangling with little bells at the end of each strand. They moved in little jerky motions. Shawn badly wanted that strap-on again. The U clamp pushed everything together, trapping all of that blood that was pounding, pounding between her legs, focusing her attention there. She hardly noticed the throbbing in her nipples.

Eric moved backwards slightly, just beyond the billiard table. He smiled. 

"I want you to feel of her body," he said. "No fucking. But feel her."

Kira smiled and left the room. The men circled Shawn. Their hands touched breasts, squeezed her bottom, pinched it. Hands pulled the cheeks apart, stroking, fingers running over the U clamp flesh that was imprisoned, poking up and slightly swollen. Hands stroked flesh and rubbed tender red places. One man suckled a nipple, then another man did the same with the other nipple. 

Kira re-entered the room.

"Next time," she whispered to Eric, "I'll put the pearls back inside her before I string her up like that." 

He nodded, barely hearing her, watching Shawn twitch, arch, thrust. Her eyes were filled with bliss, half-closed, her mouth slightly parted, her hips moving. Hands cupped her bottom, her pussy, pushing, rubbing, stroking. 

She was essentially naked, strung so tightly she could barely breath, her nipples on fire from the clamps and the tugging, her clit throbbing, her pussy crying out for all of them to take her. 

Eric smiled.  It would be a good weekend.



Shawn Ch. 04



Much later that evening, when Shawn had been unhooked from the spreader bars and been sent with Mama San and Auntie K to be scrubbed and shaved and primped and for a rest, Eric sought out Michael and Kira, sharing sodas in the kitchen.

He nodded at both of them. "Is she awake?"

Kira shrugged. "Don't know, but I'll find out." She unclipped a com link from her belt, spoke into it. She listened, nodding to herself, then snapped the link back onto her belt in a moment.

"She's slept for a couple of hours. The old biddy says the girl needs to eat something, so she's waking up."

"The old biddy?" Eric repeated, grinning.

"Mama San. Reeeeal scary. I think she's 110." Kira grinned back. 

Michael sipped his drink, nodding. 

"Let's get them all something to eat. Kira - " Eric turned his chair towards her, clasping his hands - "see to it that Shawn gets plenty to drink. Lots of water, tea, juice."

Kira nodded. Everything had been discussed, everything had been planned. But it was up to Eric to decide what he wanted done, and when. 

The meal was semi-pleasant. Mama San and Auntie K ate and chattered, Eric assumed in Japanese or something. Shawn of course was silent, eating. He urged her to drink more water. 

When "the old biddy" and Auntie K were finished, Eric called in a servant to take dessert for the old ladies to their room. They were ecstatic at having a room to themselves, television, and desserts. They followed, chattering again.

Eric rolled over to Shawn. She had finished and was drinking another glass of water at Kira's request.

Shawn was wearing a see-through white lacey corset. Her nipples showed through the thin material. The corset stopped just below the ribs. There was another gold chain around her waist, but it was longer than the other. One end of the chain had been pulled through the small ring at the other end of the chain. The dangling end had been pulled to the clit, the gold ring replaced, and the chain hooked to the little gold clit ring. The gold chain was very tight around Shawn's waist, and it pulled just as tightly on the gold clit ring. When she moved, stood, sat, it must have tugged almost unbearably, Eric thought. 

He looked at her nipples. Or maybe she liked it. 

She work a garter belt on her hips, a thin delicate belt with strips going down her smooth thighs to equally delicate hose. She was wearing white kid boots with stiletto heels, ankle boots that were white and delicate, erotic and naughty, speaking of youth and wicked things at the same time. Eric liked them. She even wore a white leather collar this time, with a gold D ring. He peered more closely at the fabric of her breasts.

"Come here," he said. She came to his chair, standing close to him. He draped one hand around her waist, rubbing her bottom, patting it gently. He noticed that she had managed to place her clit on the edge of his armrest. He smiled. He leaned closer to the corset.

"Ahh," he said. Some sort of gold ring was around the base of each nipple. He wondered how that had been done. Maybe they clicked into place? He wasn't sure. He liked them, though. They made her nipples poke firmly against the material. He suddenly leaned forward and put his mouth on one. She stepped closer. He was surprised.

He sucked on the nipple, bit just above the ring gently with his teeth. He pulled his face away, looking. The material was wet and was even more transparent, the nipple even tighter.

Shawn turned slightly and cupped the other breast with her hand. Eric smiled, leaned forward, and sucked it. He put his hands on her bottom, each hand full of smooth flesh, squeezing, his fingers digging in. He became aware that she was bouncing lightly against the armrest of his chair with her clit.

"Are you trying to fuck my chair?" he said. She nodded. He smiled. He pressed a hand against her belly lightly.

"Do you think you need to go to the bathroom first?"

She nodded vigorously. Eric was pleased.

"Do you think you can hold it a few more minutes?"

She thought, then nodded. 

"Good girl." 

Eric spoke into the com link. A man entered the room, nervous, anxious. Excited.

"Put her on the table," Eric said. 

She was placed on the table by Michael, who moved behind her and held her wrists out firmly over her head. Kira hooked each thigh tightly to the table legs, pulling Shawn's legs out tightly like before, then Kira went to the back and held one of Shawn's wrists, while Michael held the other.

Eric rolled up to the man, patting him on the back. The man jumped slightly. He was sweating.

"Shawn," said Eric, "all of my people are safe. So I'm treating them this weekend to a little fun. And Donald here won tonight's prize."

Donald blushed, stammered, glancing at Shawn's open legs, then away, back again. He wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve. 

Eric glanced at Kira. "And he has been checked, yes?" She nodded.

Kira and Michael held Shawn's wrists firmly. 

"Donald," said Eric, "your wish has been granted."

Donald stammered again. Eric prodded him forward with one hand on the man's back. 

Donald moved closer, leaning down, breathing in Shawn's body. 

His tongue flicked out, catching her clit. She jumped, surprised. Donald's tongue flicked out again, then again. He began slowly licking, then his fingers pulled her apart. His tongue intruded tender flesh, inserting itself, digging inside, flicking up, around. He moved his mouth to her clit, sucked on it, his thumbs pushing inwards on each side of the clit, stroking. His mouth return to her pussy, his tongue forcing itself inside her, his fingers kneading her, his lips touching her own, moving over them hungrily, gently, demandingly. He took his time, sucking, licking, prodding her with his fingers. She pulled on her wrists. Michael reached down, playing with one of her breasts. Kira took the other. Donald's tongue continued playing with her pussy, dipping in, teeth nibbling lightly, mouth moving erotically, sensually, agonizingly over flesh.

When she came, Donald cleaned her, then took a cloth and wiped her legs.

She was freed from the bonds and the hands and the tongue, put on the floor to stand. She trembled. 

"Do you need to go to the bathroom now?" Eric asked.

She nodded.

"Badly?"

She nodded again.

Eric motioned. A white leather leash was attached to her collar, then to Eric's chair, and Michael, Kira, and Shawn followed Eric through the door and down the hall. Donald was left behind, kneading his crotch with his hand. 

They reached a large bathroom. 

Eric waved to Shawn.

"I want you to stand over this toilet. I want you to play with yourself until you think you are going to pee. And when you get ready to pee, I want you to pull yourself open with your fingers and keep your legs on each side of the toilet, so I can watch you." His voice was husky. His eyes glinted.

She nodded.

She balanced on each side of the toilet, legs apart. Her fingers rubbed where Donald's mouth had been. The gold clit ring tugged on her. She rolled the clit around gently with a finger. She stroked herself, rubbed, prodded herself with her fingers, trembling, eager, excited. She stopped, nodding at Eric. He leaned forward slightly. 

"Do it now for me."

Her legs on each side of the toilet, those same legs trembling slightly from the strain, she pulled the lips apart, then began to urinate as Eric watched. When she was finished, she reached for paper. 

"No."

Michael came over. He pulled out a heavy shelf beside the toilet, placed a towel on it, braced the shelt with a heavy bracket beneath it. He lifted Shawn onto it. He locked one of her ankles to a small ring set behind a tile in the wall, the leg up. The ledge was low and wide. 

Michael pulled her wrists over her head and down, bending them at the elbows. He clipped her wrist rings to a link under the ledge. They had planned very well.

He stood aside, pulling Shawn's other leg out and holding it firmly in his hand.

Eric rolled forward. He leaned over, his face at the level of Shawn's crotch, and he began to lick each droplet.

Michael turned his head but said nothing. Eric continued working his way up the girl's legs to her crotch, his tongue working more firmly than Donald's had, more demanding, stronger, more filled with lust and power. He squeezed her clit tightly, pulling it out, then licked it. He plunged a finger inside her, fucking her with it. He played with her, fingers and tongue, until he felt her come, then he smiled. 

"Clean her. Take her to the guard room. Let them watch her."

He rolled back, satisfied. He would go to his bedroom and watch the closed-circuit tv.

...............

The guard room was a small area next to the kitchen. It was more like a comfortable lounge, with the bank of computers and camera equipment and screens in a glassed-in room at the other end of the lounge. 

Michael entered with Shawen, still wearing the gold chain and clit ring, the nipple rings, and her sheer corset. The men stopped watching tv.

"Sit in his lap," said Michael. She sat. "Lean back." She did so. 

Michael looked at the men. He grinned. "She's an eager slut. Who won?"

A man named Bud raised his hand. He was grinning and already standing. 

"Where do you want her?" Michael asked. Bud shrugged.

"Right here!" he roared, patting his pants. The men laughed. 

Michael turned to Shawn. "Babe, looks like you need a good fuck, and Bud here is gonna give it to you." She nodded rapidly.

"Hey she IS eager!" shouted one man. 

Michael whistled for quiet. 

"You sure you can do this here?" he asked Bud. 

Bud grinned. "I can fuck anywhere, boss," he said. "Put her on that table and I'll screw her."

Michael nodded. They raked everything off of the coffee table, placed her on there, and four men each held an ankle or a wrist. 

An older man, Sarge, sat near her head. He leaned over closer to her. "You're about the purtiest little thing I ever seen," he said. He poked his finger in her mouth. She licked it. 

"Damn," said Sarge, surprised. 

Bud unzipped his pants. 

"You got one?" Michael asked. Bud nodded sourly. He pulled on a condom. 

Michael looked at Sarge. "Ask her how she wants it. Remember she can't talk," he added.

Sarge nodded. He leaned closer again, reaching out with one hand and playing with her breast. 

"Sweet stuff, Bud here is gonna make your day. You want it slow?" She shook her head. "You want it fast?" She nodded rapidly. Sarge chuckled. "You want it a little rough? cause Bud here is a big man. I guess his dick is, too. Dunno," and the men laughed. Bud shot a bird at Sarge, who laughed.

Shawn looked at Sarge and nodded. He was surprised.

"You a little thing. You sure you want it rough?" 

"Aw come on Sarge, she said she did!" growled Bud. He had a huge hard-on. 

Shawn nodded again.

The men were excited. They tightened their grip on her wrists and ankles, pulling her open wide. She was breathing quickly.

Bud leaned over, braced his hands on the table. He moved himself just until the tip was inside her. She moved her hips.

"She's a fucking little whore!" he roared, and then - he shoved inside her. Rough. Fast. Pummelling her, using her, taking her, in front of the men. He groaned, jerking into her, thrusting. Men were yelling, excited. 

Sarge stuck his finger in the girl's mouth again. She sucked on it while Bud ground into her, rough, fast, hard. 

"Oh God," Bud whispered. "Oh God that was so good." 

His head hung for a moment, chest heaving. The men cheered. Michael made them let Shawn up, fearing he couldn't control them if he did not get her out of there soon.

He helped her to the room with Mama San and Auntie K. They were pleased that she had "done so well." Michael left, shaking his head.

.................

The lounge was quiet. Eric had fallen asleep a few hours before. It was close to dawn. 

Michael was in the lounge, half-asleep on the sofa, blonde hair tousled over one eye. He heard the door open, and he jumped, sitting up quickly. 

It was Shawn.

"Hey. What are you doing here?" he asked. He frowned.

"Are you ok?"

She nodded, smiling. She looked around the room, then moved her hands like "where is everyone?"

"Oh. Eating breakfast. In there." He thumbed over his shoulder at the kitchen. She nodded.

"Uhm. Are you planning to eat breakfast? Now?"

She nodded again.

Michael rubbed his hands over his eyes. She was wearing the white sheer hose and the white kid ankle boots and nothing else. 

"If you go in there dressed - well, like that, the guys will be eating YOU for breakfast," he explained. She looked at him. He sighed. "You can't be serious!"

She shrugged, smiled. She moved over to him, took his hand, placed it on her clit. He jerked his hand away. She backed away.

"No wait, sorry. It's just - hell." He rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye. He looked up.

"If the guys see you, especially after last night - they're gonna want you again. You understand that?"

She nodded, smiling. She patted her stomach, then her crotch. Michael closed his eyes.

"Are you a nympho?" he muttered. She looked at him. He stood, stretched. 

"Ok. They might wait long enough for you to eat."

They entered the kitchen. The crew greeted Shawn with whistles, cheers, and a lot of suggestions. 

Sarge won. He patted his lap, and Shawn sat on it, back to him. He put her legs on each side of his. The men made him move his chair back. 

Sarge enjoyed himself. He made a big show of feeding her while playing with her breasts and clit. At one point, Shawn reached up and back and clasped her arms behind his neck. Sarge put his hands around her waist and moved his hands up and down her body.

"Contest!" someone shouted.

"Let her draw!" another yelled. This was greeted with approval.

Michael ate quietly by the kitchen sink, watching. She must be a nympho.

He didn't realize that the ginger juice was for anything other than lubrication. 

He didn't know that Mama San had applied more to Shawn, tied her to the bed, and placed a butterfly vibrator to her clit. The girl was so aroused, so hungry for sex, she was wild to find the men again.

The men cleared off the table. Bud held out a bowl to her.

"Close your eyes, don't look," he said. She nodded, reached in, pulled out a slip, gave it to him.

"Sarge!" he said. The men groaned. 

"He already got to have her on his lap!" howled Jake.

"Yeah, but I didn't have nothin' in her!" Sarge yelled back, grinning. 

Shawn held up a hand. The men quieted. 

She closed her eyes, put her hand back in the bowl, drew out another slip. She opened her eyes and handed it to Bud.

"Jake!" yelled Bud. "You go instead of Sarge!" 

Shawn shook her head. She took both pieces of paper. The room got quiet again.

"Oh man," muttered one guy.

Bud stared. "What are you say- what do you mean?"

"Sweet stuff, you aren't saying you want it twice are you?" asked Sarge.

She shook her head, then put both pieces of paper in one hand, then smiled. The men yelled.

"Both? At the same time?" Bud gasped. "Oh man oh man oh man."

They discussed it, put her on the table, spread her out, held her down. They had her at the end of the table. Jake took her pussy, and Sarge took her mouth. They had to wear condoms, and Sarge wasn't sure a condom in the mouth was a good idea. But he felt her mouth on him, and he didn't care any more.

Jake was slower than Bud, playing with her some first, pushing in a little, teasing. The men held her, watched Jake fuck her pussy, watched Sarge fuck her mouth. 

"I wonder if she could take three?" said one guy.

But for Shawn, it was the idea of her legs spread open wide, her body stretched tight, her pussy used, her coming, again and again, the feel of being a slut, that she enjoyed. She savored it.

And when Sarge and Jake were through, she went to Bud, who was sitting in a chair, drinking a soda, and she unzipped him and held out a condom. He made to stand, but she shook her head. He pulled on the condom, and she straddled him, facing him, and he put his hands on her waist and let her ride him while the men watched, watched the little slut, watched her sit on Bud's cock, slide down on it, cling to him. Watched her breasts bounce and then catch against his chest. 

A man named Rob laid back on the table, threatened his best friend Stan laughingly, and Shawn was put on the table on top of Rob, who eased into her pussy. She knelt over Rob, and Stan moved in, taking her in the ass, and she was fucked, and fucked, and fucked. She was raw, but she was wild with urge and desire and lust and being a slut. The ginger juice held power over her, but so did the lust, the pure lust. The more she fed the lust, the more she wanted, the more she craved. 

And Michael sat in the kitchen and watched, and something worried him, something - he could not think what it was.

But he had the lust, too. He shook his head no for his turn, but he watched. 

And she was wild and rutting and using her body, letting it be used, but the lust was powerful.

And when she was done, she lay sprawled on the table with her legs open wide, enjoying the feel of the men staring at her, talking about her, touching her, fingering her. She shuddered and came and nudged against their fingers like a soft doe wanting to nibble, and they obliged with fingers. 

Mama San entered, tsked, and told her to go their room. 

Shawn was very sore, and wet. But she still felt the need for more, and more, and more.

"Just wait til we get to room," said Mama San. "You very bad girl! Mr. Jo-ann-san gonna be mad, not gonna pay, you use up pussy on men! You very bad girl!"

But Shawn was still throbbing and feeling the rush, the glory, the lust. 

And she loved it.



Shawn Ch. 05



Mama San and Auntie K stripped Shawn of the hose and boots and pushed her into the tub, muttering angrily at her.

"You gonna be punished," Mama San said angrily. "You gonna cost us a lotta money, use up pussy like that."

Auntie K was washing the girl's hair, tugging it meanly. Mama San was soaping the girl's body, rubbing savagely at tender spots. Shawn twisted.

"Oh no you not do," said Mama San. She pinched the girl and continued scrubbing. 

Both women shaved Shawn, smoothing the skin when they were done.

"Now," said Mama San, as Shawn stood on a mat, shivering after Auntie K had finished drying her hair. "You been bad, you get punished."

She pinched one of Shawn's nipples, hard. 

Mama San thought. "Ok, you get her water. Lotsa water." She pointed at Auntie K, who nodded. When Mama San was this angry, best to just follow orders.

Mama San snapped her fingers at Shawn. "You! You - you stand there, bad girl!" 

She pulled two chairs into the luxurious bathroom. There was gym equipment in one corner of the room.

"Humph. This room, it big as whole Bago," muttered the old woman. She dragged the two chairs near the weight-lifting machine. Auntie K returned with a glass and pitcher of water.

Mama San grabbed the glass after Auntie K filled it with water. She shoved it at Shawn.

"You drink! All!"

It took some time. But Mama San made her drink the entire pitcher of water. Shawn was puzzled.

Auntie K returned with a box that her sister had requested. Ordered, more like it. Auntie opened it.

Gleaming inside were Mama San's collection of clamps. She smiled evilly at Shawn. 

The two older women worked the weight-lifting bar until they learned how to move it up and down easily with a small lever. 

"Very nice," said Mama San with approval. Auntie K was nervous.

They cuffed Shawn's hands overhead, one on each side of the bar for the gym equipment. They laced a waist corset very tightly, more tightly than the one she'd worn - the night before? - squeezing in her stomach almost painfully. Auntie K buckled a collar around Shawn's throat. Mama San threaded a chain through the D ring. She had learned that little trick from Kira, when they had spoken during the first "contest." 

Mama San pressed the handle and made the bar lift slowly, lifting Shawn with it until her feet dangled a few inches above the floor. The two women re-tightened the corset.

Auntie K applied the vacuum tubes to Shawn's nipples and clit long past the time when they were painfully swollen. Shawn moved restlessly, her toes not even able to reach the floor.

Mama San pulled the chairs over to the bar. She pulled one of Shawn's legs on one side, then placed the other on the other side of the second chair. Shawn's legs were spread wide, on each side of two chairs. Mama San pressed the lever again until Shawn rose several more inches. The two women cuffed the chairs to the equipment, then threaded a chain underneath, cuffing Shawn's ankles on each side of the chairs. All of the weight was on her wrists, her legs spread on each side of the chairs, her ankle cuffs resting against the sides of each seat. 

Mama San applied the tiniest, most painfully tight nooses Auntie K had ever seen to each of Shawn's nipples, trapping very swollen nipples, forcing them to stay taut and tightly peaked. They then banded the base of her clit, trapping blood and swollen flesh, the nerve throbbing. Auntie K pointed at the clit. She could see it actually twitching. Mama San grinned wickedly.

They put alligator clamps with jagged sharp "teeth" on the base of each nipple, just above each noose, then attached them to chain at the D ring on the collar. The chain was shorter than the one the night before, and the teeth bit into the nipples, pulling them upwards. Another alligator clamp was slipped onto the clit above its band. The clamp jerked slightly back and forth, twitching. 

Mama San and Auntie K worked quietly. 4 clover clamps were placed on each lip, and a small chain dangled from each. Mama San added small weights to each chain. It made each clamp dig in painfully. 

They threaded coarse hemp, with knots tied into it, through her crotch, pulled up very tightly between her legs, tied to the corset, front and back. The hemp was soaked in ginger juice. 

Mama San finished with clothespins all over Shawn's ribs, breasts, under her upper arms, insides of her thighs. Auntie K added weighted belts to each of Shawn's ankles, normally used by runners. 

Mama San turned on the faucet so that it dripped, dripped, dripped. Auntie K placed a bowl underneath Shawn's legs.

"If you have one drop pee, ONE DROP, missy, you be sorry. This nothing. Nothing," said Mama San. They left the room, closing the door behind them, and turned on the tv.

Shawn twisted. She tried to push her feet up so she could stand on the chair, but the chain beneath was so short, she couldn't get her foot braced on the edge of a chair. 

It also made the weighted clamp chains swing back and forth, tugging at her. She felt sweat on her face. Her nipples hurt. The clamps hurt. She needed to urinate. She tried not to listen to the faucet dripping, dripping, dripping...

The hemp soaked in ginger juice was pulled so tightly between her legs, it almost seemed that it sprouted at her clit. The knots were digging inside of her pussy, gnawing at her, sawing to get inside. The knots felt good, but moving made the clamp chains swing. And it made her want to pee.

It was hard to breathe. The corset, the weight on her wrists...

The time ticked, ticked, ticked, dripped

drip

dripped

She started. She had phased out. She felt something wet on her legs. She hoped it was because of the juice.

As soon as she thought of the wetness, she felt the terrible pressure, the awful need, to urinate. 

The crotch rope pressed in on her belly tightly. It made her aware of how desperately she needed to pee. 

She struggled, the chains swung, the rope dug in, the knots tantalized. She thought of the men playing with her last night. But it made her think of Eric, and how he had watched her pee...

...and Mama San came into the room just then, and grabbed up the bowl.

She was grinning. Horribly.

Two or three drops of urine.

"You a very bad girl," Mama San said happily. "Very bad."

............

They left the bands on her nipples and clit. The corset, very tight, remained on her, as did the collar.

Before they released her from the bar, Mama San took Kira's pearls and waved them happily at Shawn.

"I learn a lot from that lady. Very nice." She cackled.

The pearls were soaked in ginger juice. But there were two strands, and Mama San pushed one inside her pussy, and the other in her anus. The painted her nipples and clit, the labia, and dabbed inside her liberally with the juice. She was burning. 

They made her walk to the next room, and she felt the pearls moving inside her, the juice inflaming her. She wanted every one of the men, now. At the same time if that had been possible. She was miserable. 

Mama San slipped a leather sleeve over Shawn's arms, lacing it tightly. Her shoulders were pulled back, her breasts thrust out. They added alligator clamps to the nipples again, three on each one, turned in different directions so that the flesh was pushed and pinched and tugged different ways. They were all looped through the short collar chain at her throat. 

They put the labia spreader on her, pulling it up tighter than the night before, opening her wide, the pearls tucked inside her with their burning lustful fire. 

There was a wooden pony that had been made for use later that weekend. Mama San had asked to see it first, to "check it out, be sure it fine."

They were checking it out now.

They put her on the pony, a large inverted V, her open crotch on the sharp line of the inverted V, her legs opened, nothing to grip with. They cuffed her ankles to the bottom runners, pulled the chain up tightly so that this pulled her down onto the sharp point even more. There was a brass edging that fit over the top, but Mama San had removed it. More painful this way.

Mama San had found a comrade in the chef the night before. He was a genius in the kitchen, but he was sour about what he saw as an invasion this weekend. He surprised Mama San. He became inventive, creative, telling her of what he would do. He was the one who had recommended removing the brass edging from the wooden pony, "so it would hurt the little slut more." Mama San liked him.

The leather sleeve holding Shawn's arms was pulled back and tied to a ring at the end of the pony.

A set of clover clamps was placed on her nipples, under the rings, and linked to a ring on the front of the pony. Whichever way she moved, something would tug, something would hurt.

But inside her, the pearls were pushed around from the inverted V. 

Mama San invited the chef in to watch. He brought drinks and little desserts. Auntie K fell asleep in front of the tv. Mama San and the chef pulled their chairs closer.

Shawn moved from one side to the other, trying to ease pressure. The labia was pulled so wide, it offered no cushion. Her skin was pressed down painfully on the sharp edge.

She wiggled, trying to pull back a little, and this pulled on the nipple chain.

She moved forward, but it pulled her shoulders closer together and hurt. 

But in moving, in wiggling, she had moved the pearls around some inside her, and the engorged little clit was rubbed again and again against the sharp edges.

The Mama San and the chef watched as Shawn sweated, writhed, grew slick from cum, came again, rocked from side to side to ease pressure, came again. 

When she was gasping and rutting and tears were slowly falling down her cheeks, the chef stood and went over to her.

"I got to get to my kitchen," he said. "But I think you not done with her yet. She still used that pussy of hers." He looked at Mama San. He had a look of sick lust on his face. 

Mama San smiled at him as he left. Such a good man.

She jabbed Auntie K. They untied Shawn, helped her down. Her legs collapsed.

"You almost done," said Mama San cheerfully.

They cleaned her again swiftly. Mama San lowered the bar in the small gym at one end of the enormous bathroom. They half-carried Shawn to it, cuffed her ankles to each side of the bar. Mama San pressed the lever and Shawn was lifted by her ankles, up and up.

They cuffed her wrists to each side of the equipment below, so that she was stretched tightly again, but upside down, her legs open.

They put clamps on her nipples, the harsh alligator ones, with weights so they hung down, pulling painfully on the sore nipples.

Mama San smiled. She chortled. She cackled. 

The girl still had the pearls inside her. 

Mama San took a crop, and swung it on the red sore flesh of Shawn's pussy. She smacked it, harder than Kira had the day before. She whipped her crotch, her open pussy, her clit, the insides of her legs. She spanked her pussy over and over, then smacked the girl's breasts. They swung the bar outwards, and Mama San walked to one side, smacking the girl's bottom over and over with the crop, then reaching up and smacking the open pussy again, and again.

She kept this up until Auntie K signalled. Shawn was shuddering. She had actually orgasmed, but it was painful. 

"Slut," said Mama San. She grabbed the ends of the pearl strands, and yanked. Shawn's mouth opened wildly, but there was no scream she could give, of course. She shuddered and thrashed. 

"Be still!" Mama San snapped. She smacked the girl's pussy again with the crop, several times, until Shawn hung limply from the cuffs, quivering.

They took her down, washed her, and put her to bed, cuffed spreadeagle, to wait there until nightfall.

"She get fucked tonight, it gonna hurt," said Mama San, and she smiled.



Shawn Ch. 06



Anna had talked to Them, whoever "Them" was. Anthony knew it. Anna was quiet and a little worried, and that wasn't like her. They had all gone back to the Winnebago and returned to a camp near Savannah, catching the occasional military personnel on leave and giving private little shows. 

"They" had not liked the notoriety that Shawn had been getting. Anthony knew that. He made certain that when the soldiers or sailors on leave came to their little demos near the campsite, that Shawn was hidden in her little room. He began to feel better after a few weeks.

He would have panicked if he had known about the twins.

Bambi and Bunni had not liked leaving a big city to return to a dusty campsite, even if it was near the ocean. They had begun driving into Savannah at night, touring the hangouts and meeting others.

The twins showed Mama San and Auntie K a local group of women who met for MahJong. Anna was having mysterious meetings at times, Anthony driving her. When Mama San and Auntie K were gone at the same time, Bambi or Bunni would make a call, and soon a party would show up at their little site. They never risked taking the men into Anna's room, but sometimes - they needed more space.

So they knocked on the door of the Winnebago one afternoon when everyone else was gone, to find Shawn lying face down on the floor, legs crossed at the ankles behind her, chin propped on her hands, watching TV. She was naked except for the ever-present thigh hi hose, this time a sheer lacy white.

"Hey kid, you want some company?" asked Bambi. Two too many guys had shown up, and none of them wanted to go without sex. Leave was not that easy to get.

Shawn rolled onto her side, propping her head on one hand. 

"Look, I've got a couple of guys who need some attention, and me and Bunni - we just have too many guys here right now. You want some company? I'll make 'em use condoms," said Bambi. She squatted on the floor next to Shawn. 

Mama San had not been allowed to use as much ginger juice lately. Bambi thought about it.

"Be right back, kid," she said, and went down the hall to the bathroom. She returned with the little jar. "Roll over and open."

Shawn rolled over on her back and by habit, put her wrists over her head, arching her back a little, opening her legs. Bambi dipped a little brush into the small pot of juice, then dabbed it liberally on the labia, thought about it, then inserted the brush slightly into her pussy, twirling it. Shawn shivered slightly.

Satisfied, Bambi returned the jar and came back. She tossed Shawn her cuffs and collars. "Put these on." The white ones, to match the white lacy hose. Nice. She helped Shawn into the collar and snapped on the ankle cuffs with their D rings, while Shawn slipped on the wrist cuffs, their own D rings clanking slightly. Bambi checked the table by the sofa. Good. The chain links were there. Trust Mama San to keep everything ready. 

"You want both now?"

Shawn nodded, already rubbing her clit a little from the juice. It had been several weeks since she had had much of it, and the feeling was powerful. 

Bambi left, returning with two guys. She had already told them Shawn couldn't talk; reminded them about the condoms. The last thing she wanted was for Mama San or Anna to find out she'd let Shawn play around. Or that they'd had anyone at their camp. Anna was too nervous these days, Bambi decided. She waved at Shawn, then went back to the little trailer she shared with Bunni.

The two men looked at Shawn. They were in fatigues. Shawn liked the look of their boots. She liked boots.

"Hey honey, you always dress like that?" one of the men said. He was black with a relaxed grin. The other guy was white and looked nervous. Shawn smiled and nodded.

The two men sat down on the small sofa near the table, not sure what to do next. By now, the ginger juice was burning at Shawn, throbbing. She went over to Relaxed Grin. He grinned at her again. She sat on his knees, facing him, legs to either side of his, and edged forward a little. Mr. Nervous edged over. Shawn got on her knees, working her way forward until her hands were on the black man's shoulders, her knees on either side of his thighs. She moved his hands to come around and grasp her bottom. He squeezed gently.

"You got a cute tight little butt," he said. His voice was a little hoarse now. She smiled.

She moved up against his chest, arching a little so the mons moved forward, catching her clit on his dog tag which had come out of his shirt. She moved back and forth a little against it, making it swing. The man squeezed her bottom again, pulling it apart a little, his fingers digging in. She slid her legs wider apart, moving her left hand down and separating the lips with her fingers, then rubbing her clit. 

"You horny, baby?" said the man, his voice harsher and breathier. The white guy was mesmerized. He spoke up.

"Bunni said we could tie her. That she likes that."

"You want that, baby?" said the man. Shawn nodded, pointing at the table. She took one of his hands, moved it to her front, down, so his hand stroked against her clit.

"Oh, you a hot little slut, ain't you, baby?" he crooned, and she nodded. She liked him.

They put her on the table, fastening her wrists over her head, her ankles to each side of the table, spreading her legs open. After some thought, the black man put a pillow under her bottom. He leaned forward and kissed her clit.

"That feel better, honey?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Damn," said the white guy. He was rubbing his crotch.

There was a small basket right where Bambi had told them in the bathroom. The white guy was sent in there and brought back a handful. His friend grinned. "So you think we gonna need all these?" The white guy blushed.

Shawn watched them put on the condoms. 

"Huh uh, I'm going first, Roger," said the black man, and the other one nodded, his hand rubbing gently on his cock in its condom.

"Baby, you about to kill me," said the first man, bending over the table. "You want it fast?" She nodded, and he sighed. "Good."

He plunged into her, and her wrists jerked against the chains. 

"Damn," said Roger. "I never seen anything like that, Dan."

Dan grunted and heaved, shoving into her. He was so hard it hurt, and it felt good to be inside her tight little pussy. He could hear her breathing, excited, and felt her tighten and quiver. He gushed in the condom.

"Oh damn, baby, that was fine," he said. He sat on the floor a minute. "You gonna need some time?"

She shook her head vigorously, looking at Roger pleadingly. Roger grinned for the first time.

"Hot damn!" He began slowly, but Shawn jerked up and heaved, panting, and he began to shove into her, using her, his eyes half-shut. He spurted in the condom, filling it, and hung there in bliss for a moment, shuddering.

"Damn, I think this baby could still go again!" he told Dan. 

"That right, baby?" said Dan. He had pulled off his condom and zipped up his pants, his shirt tucked in neatly. She nodded, fast. He laughed. 

"So you want us to come back? Maybe bring a buddy or two?" She nodded again, fast.

The two men looked at each other, Roger cleaning his cock, then zipping his pants. He shrugged. "I know Zach would love it."

"Yeah, and Burt and Zig. You got their cell?" said Dan. Roger nodded, flipped open his phone, and dialed. 

Dan unhooked Shawn from the table, thinking she might need to go to the bathroom. She put his hand around her waist first, though, then slid it down to her bottom. He squeezed it, then slapped it gently. "Ok, Miss Slut, you go to the bathroom, and we'll get a few more over here!" She smiled and went down the hall.

Bambi came by at one point for some Cokes and chips, and Dan told her they were inviting a few more over. Bambi grinned. "She's a little nympho. Just be sure you're all gone by 4:00 though, ok?" 

"Sure thing, babe."

Bambi went to the bathroom and checked on Shawn. "You want some help?" she asked. Shawn was playing with some of the clamps, and nodded.

Bambi flicked Shawn's nipples, making them taut, looping the little nooses around each nipple, pulling them tight so the nipples would stay tight and puffed. Shawn already had a gold waist chain on. Bambi looked at her clit.

"Here, let me put some more of this on," she said. She dabbed a little more juice on Shawn's pussy and lips, a little to the clit, a fast dab to each nipple. They looked at the clamps and decided on the little ring-like clamp to go over the clit, and that while they were waiting for the new arrivals, Shawn could wear a few clover clamps on the lips, and one on each side of the clit, on the tender flesh that was so sensitive for her. 

They walked back down the hall. The men were fascinated with the clamps and let Shawn kneel on the sofa, legs on each side of their hips, facing them, so they could flick the clamps on the lips and tug on them a little. She half-closed her eyes.

"Are we hurting her?" asked Dan before Bambi left.

"Maybe just a little, but she likes it."

"She can't fuck in those, can she?" asked Roger suddenly. 

"Yeah, but not for long. Take 'em off in about 20 minutes or so. You can put 'em back on her later," said Bambi. She waved.

They played with Shawn while they waited on their friends. She showed them at one point that she would like to be spanked, so Dan turned her over his lap. She squirmed until her clit and the clamps on each side rested firmly on his muscled leg, wriggling a little. "Horny little slut aren't you?" he chuckled. He smacked her bare bottom with his hand, gently at first. He slapped her several times, then squeezed her bottom with his fingers. There was a knock on the door.

Roger got up, and it was evident that he was going to want another round with Shawn, and soon.

"Baby, you got us ALL hot!" grinned Dan. He lifted her to the floor.

There were five newcomers, staring at Shawn.

"Shit!" 

"Yeah, she's hot, ain't she?" said Roger proudly, as though he had found her himself. He handed the basket of condoms to them. "You gotta wear these, though."

"Aw hell."

"Hey, that's the rule," said Dan. "But she is one hot slut," he added.

They chained her to the table again, Dan thoughtfully putting the small pillow under her hips again. 

Zig was fucking her while Roger was putting a condom on again, and Dan was rubbing his crotch. "This is a gang bang, honey," he said hoarsely. Zig finished, heaving and panting. "You sure you want all of us?" She nodded vigorously and looked at the next man, a quiet one named Mike. Mike was embarrassed and motioned to Roger, who went next.

"I think she can take us all, no prob," said Zig, still panting. "Oh God. Oh man. We got to tell Sarge about her!" He wiped at his cock. Roger was groaning. 

They'd all had a turn, Dan a second one, when Mike finally went, and they were surprised when he turned out to be the most aggressive of them in spite of his earlier shyness. "Oh yeah slut," he crooned, ramming into her so that the D rings on her cuffs jingled, "You know you want it, beg me for it, I'm gonna punish your pussy, you love it baby." The guys were jabbing each other and grinning, yelling at him "Go Mike, go! Fuck her, Mike, fuck her pussy!"

They were spent. They lolled around, heaving, panting, and only when Dan heard Shawn's cuffs jingle did he remember to crawl over to the table and unhook her. She sat up, grinning, then moved over to his lap. He was sitting on the floor.

"Oh baby, man, you're gonna kill me!" he laughed. He kissed her forehead and patted her hair, laughing. The men sat on the floor around the table, relaxed, while Shawn sat on Dan's lap, legs bent at the knees, tucked under on each side of his legs. She moved his hand down until it rested on her pussy. He rubbed his hand back and forth. 

"You're a little nympho, aren't you?" he chuckled. He tweaked her clit, pulling it a little. She leaned back against him. He cupped her breasts, sliding his hands up and down her slender body. 

"Baby, we got to go." He set her aside and stood up. They all did. She looked down.

"Hey, next time we can come back, we will, ok?" She nodded, smiling. 

"Yeah, but we better bring a few more!" said Roger. She nodded again, and Dan laughed.

"And bring Sarge!" said Zig. Dan frowned a little, then shrugged. Sarge had his - quirks. 

They left, saying goodbye to Bambi. Bunni threw out the garbage with the used condoms, made Shawn clean up, and had Bambi put away the clamps and little nipple nooses. They had just finished when Mama San and Auntie K returned. Shawn was lying on her stomach on the floor, legs crossed at the ankles behind her, propped on her hands, watching TV.

"Lazy slut," said Mama San.



Shawn Ch. 07



The "Sarge" wasn't really active any more in the service. He did some consulting now and then, and he had a favored group of cronies that he played poker with. All in all, almost a stereotypical, brusque, older military man type. 

With a few "quirks," as Dan had noted.

Things were staying quiet at the Winnebago's site, for which Anthony was glad. Anna seemed calmer, and with Mama San and Auntie K gone most of the time now with new friends to play MahJong, it was peaceful. Anthony had started fishing at times now. Anna sometimes left with Mama San, sometimes went into town for hours. He suspected that at times she drove to Atlanta and talked to Them. He never asked.

Dan and Roger had brought Sarge with them the next time they were free to visit, and the Sarge seemed taken by Shawn. After she'd had sex with Dan and Roger, the Sarge had played with her, getting her to sit on his lap facing him, roving his hands over her, pinching here and there, stroking. He was quiet, but smiling. Dan frowned.

A few days later Anna entered the Winnebago with Bambi and Bunni in tow, furious. She waved a note at Anthony, demanding to know why he hadn't been watching and paying more attention? She'd gotten a note from the Sarge, a pleasant note. It was an invitation to his small farm, on the outskirts of Savannah. He had a few horses, a small acreage really, an isolated quaint, lovely old home. 

The invitation mentioned his friendship with the local sheriff, and how careful the Sarge would be NOT to mention the little group's private SM demos.

Anna was fuming.

"Now we have to go!" 

"But honey-"

"Don't you `honey' me! You should have been watching!" She smacked the table with the note, the envelope flying. She paced, thinking. They couldn't draw any more attention to themselves. They didn't dare let the sheriff bring in an investigation. She sighed. They would have to go.

Anna let Mama San punish the twins. She couldn't afford to let her do anything more to Shawn at this point. So she let Mama San loose on the twins to vent her anger, and Anna told Auntie K to make sure the girl was ready.

Mama San, Auntie K, and Anna drove with Shawn to the Sarge's house a few days later. When they arrived, he met them himself. Two men were nearby, working on a tractor. The women went inside to a large, cool room, pleasantly decorated. The Sarge was eyeing Shawn.

Sarge was tall and bulky, still wearing a crew cut which showed gleams of sunburned white skin through its graying thatches; he favored wearing short-sleeved t-shirts and his fatigues and boots when he was in what he thought of as his "hunting" mode. Today, he was definitely hunting. He'd had ideas, several of them, and he was excited. He knew something was wrong, something needed to be kept quiet about the black-haired young woman, and he had used that to bring them to his home. 

He was, Anna thought, like a great white spider, drawing them into his web. She hated the whole thing. She was the one who should be in charge.

They had a light lunch, but Sarge insisted that Shawn remove her skirt. He had her to stand near him before they ate, and he looked at her, turning her this way and that. Even Mama San was quiet, her black eyes suspicious and sharp. 

Sarge was finally satisfied with one of Shawn's usual outfits, this time the black leather: boots over the knees, very sheer silky thigh hi hose with a darker band that fitted snugly at the tops of the thighs. Collar, wrist and ankle cuffs. He nodded. Gold waist chain, he liked that. He insisted that Mama San fit a clit clamp to the end of the chain and hook it to the base of Shawn's clit, so it tugged and pulled when she straightened up. Nipple nooses, he liked that. He had lots of ideas about those. He flicked one and watched it puff up a little more, and he asked Mama San to tighten the little nooses. She did. He let Shawn keep on the little half-jacket of black leather during lunch.

They ate, the two men who had been working on the tractor entering later and joining them. They goggled at Shawn but said nothing. 

When they were done, he led the women and two men outside to a small barn. They entered, and one of the workers brought out a tall horse. The Sarge explained.

"I want her to ride on this horse's back," he said. He pointed at Shawn. "I want to see if she gets off." He was excited, and his voice quivered slightly at the end of the sentence. He looked annoyed at that.

A thin blanket was put on the horse's back, then Shawn was hoisted up and astride. They took the horse outside to a small corral, one of the men leading it. Shawn clung to the horse's mane. At one point, Sarge had the man to make the horse break into a trot, and Shawn bounced gently on the horse's back, but it was not quite the reaction Sarge had hoped for. He stopped them and had them to pull her off.

"You," he said, pointing at Mama San. "The guys told me you had something you could put on her. You bring it?" She was angry, but looking at Anna, Mama San nodded.

"Here," said the Sarge. He pulled a small box off a shelf near him. "Put these in her, too." Mama San snatched the box and stomped off into the house, dragging Shawn with her.

"And make sure you don't stint on that pussy juice, old woman!" shouted the Sarge. He grinned at Anna. Auntie K had gone into the house, panting and waddling after Mama San. 

Inside the two women applied the ginger juice to Shawn's nipples and clit, dabbed it liberally on the lips. Mama San pinched them with her fingernails, pulling them open. Auntie K held out the box, opened.

"He want these in her?" she asked. Mama San nodded.

Auntie K pulled out a long string of oversized pearls, each one separated by about 2-3 inches of strong slender cord. She shrugged, dumped them into a small bowl of ginger juice, and swished them around absently with a brush while Mama San finished painting the inside of the girl's pussy with the ginger juice. Shawn pushed against the brush a little.

"Not yet, slut!" snapped Mama San. She pulled up the clit and had Auntie K wrap a thread around the base, tightened the clamp, then released it. She did the same to the nipples. They were a dark red now, swollen and tender. 

The two women threaded a chain through the D ring of Shawn's collar, then pulled the nipples up, snapping a clover clamp to the base of each nipple tightly. Now when she moved on the horse, the clamps would dig into the nipples' flesh. Mama San nodded, satisfied. That would teach the little slut. 

They shoved the pearls inside Shawn's pussy, ginger juice dripping. Auntie K dabbed at but didn't remove all of it. Shawn was burning and throbbing. Mama San fitted a thin leather belt around the girl's waist and jerked it tight, threaded a slender leather thong between her legs, then up between the pussy. The leather divided into two wider strips - a labia spreader. Mama San grinned evilly. She pulled the strips tight, getting Auntie K to pull the lips out, then snapped the straps into place on the thin leather waist belt. 

"Now pussy open," said Mama San, and cackled.

They went back outside to the corral. Sarge made Shawn remove her jacket. The two workers helped her onto the horse's back. This time, with her pussy spread wide and held in place with the labia spreader, she felt the spine of the horse working beneath her. She breathed in sharply. Sarge nodded, his eyes gleaming. 

One of the workers led the horse in a trot, then a canter. Back and forth, the length of the corral, Shawn holding onto the mane. Inside her, the pearls jostled against each other, and the ginger juice burned and worked its way into a warmth of lust and sex. Her breasts bounced, pulling at the clamps, which began to hurt, then gave over to a slow warm buzz of tingling and almost mindless sensation. She felt the horse's spine, working beneath her, and she moved up a little, pressing in.

"Yes," the Sarge whispered harshly. "Good girl!" he shouted.

They made the horse jog up and down a few times, jouncing Shawn on the horse as she held onto its mane with both hands. She closed her eyes once, thrusting her breasts out which pulled on the nipples painfully, and she came on the horse's back. The Sarge wasn't satisfied until he saw her orgasm several times, and then he finally let her off the horse. She was weak-kneed and had to be helped into the house. Sarge had Mama San and Auntie K wipe off the ginger juice, but they kept the clamps on and the pearls in at his request.

"Bet you liked that, didn't you, chickie?" he said. He had taken her into his study and shut the door, just the two of them. He sat her on the edge of his desk and pushed her back, spreading her legs wide. She was still heaving and panting. He muttered, got up, came to the side of the desk where her head was. 

"Give me your wrists."

She obeyed, and he slipped a chain through the D rings and linked it to one of the desk's legs. He moved back around and sat down again, holding her legs open with his hands. He bent his head between her legs and took her clit in his teeth, nibbling. Then he bit, tugging with his teeth. He felt her try to close her legs, and he smacked the inside of her thighs with one of his hands. He leaned down and bit her clit again, a little harder this time. She shivered but didn't close her legs.

"Good. Fast learner," he muttered against her pussy. He began to lick, his tongue flicking in and out of her, then he bit the labia, pulling them a little with his teeth. He looked up.

"We're going to keep doing this, girl, until you come in my mouth," he snapped. He stood up and jerked her legs further apart, tying them to each side of his desk so they were spread almost painfully far apart. He moved to the front of the desk again.

"Now stop moving!" and he leaned over and grabbed a lip in his mouth again, sucking and pulling, nibbling with his teeth. He used his hands to grab under her hips and pull her up towards him, his fingers digging into her bottom, squeezing hard and pulling it apart, then squeezing it together. He flicked his tongue inside her again, slurping, until his tongue found part of the string from the set of pearls. He worked it out, then tugged a pearl out with his teeth, feeling Shawn shudder a little. 

"Good. You're gonna come for me, you little whore, and you're gonna love it," he warned. He pulled out more pearls, some slowly, some quickly. She came twice, and he was satisfied finally. He twisted her clit with his fingers cruelly, rolling it, tugging. 

"Good." He wiped his mouth and stood up. He looked at her, sprawled on his desk and helpless. He grinned.

He unbuckled his belt and pulled it off and doubled it in a loop. He smacked her pussy with the belt a few times, watching her jump. 

"Good," he said again. He was breathing really hard, and his eyes had a glazed look. 

He was still smacking her pussy with the belt when he suddenly stopped, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his cock. It was huge. He said nothing, just suddenly rammed into her with it. He watched her hands grabbing at the chains near her wrists, scratching, trying to free herself, and he laughed and panted, fucking in and out, hard. He shoved in and lifted her hips with his hands, digging his fingers in harder to her bottom, shoving her hips up to meet his, gouging into her with his cock until he was spent. He stayed in her and hit his intercom.

"Rodriguez, get in here!" he shouted.

He looked down at Shawn, who was panting, but her eyes were half-closed. 

"Good," he said again. "You're going to be begging me to do this again." He heard a knock on the door and pulled out of her, zipped his pants, and picked up his belt. He was threading it back through the loops when Rodriguez came in.

"Shut the damn door!" snapped Sarge. Rodriguez hastily closed it. "And lock it!" The lock clicked shut. "Get over here."

He pointed at Shawn when Rodriguez came over. "Ever see a prettier little slut?" Rodriguez shook his head, not sure what to say. There were red marks across her clit and inner thighs. Sarge clapped him on the back. 

"Take her." 

Rodriguez looked at him, puzzled.

"Go on, man. Fuck her. I'm going to go get a shower. Call in Michael. Let him have a look too if he wants. Just don't untie her yet." He left the room.

Rodriguez looked at Shawn, but he knew his boss. He picked up the phone and called for Michael, who entered a few moments later. "Oh wow."

Rodriguez shrugged. He unzipped his pants.

"Are you gonna keep those clamp things on her?" Michael asked.

"The boss said not to untie her." 

"Yeah, but the clamps - don't they hurt?" They looked at each other. 

"Yeah. I see what you mean."

Sarge had his quirks, after all. They left the clamps on. 

Rodriguez was more gentle, sliding into her, feeling her excitement rise, meet his own. Michael was a little more forceful. Sarge returned about the time Michael finished.

Sarge clapped his hands together, rubbing them gleefully. "This is wonderful!" he gloated. "I've already told the two old biddies to bring her back in a few days." He clapped them on their backs, Michael still fumbling with his pants. Sarge leaned forward.

"I guess this can come off now," he said, knowing full well what would happen. He released the clit clamp, then the nipple clamps, and watched Shawn jerk and arch her back, shuddering. "A little pain slut. Made her orgasm. God I love this!"

The Sarge was grinning. Anna was frowning. Mama San and Auntie K had Shawn in the back of the car.

"So I'll see you Wednesday night," said Sarge. He shook Anna's hand. She narrowed her eyes. "Or, I guess I could always call..."

"Never mind. We'll be here Wednesday."

"Good. Good."

He waved happily at them as they drove off, then turned to the two workers.

"Start setting up a poker game for Wednesday night."



Shawn Ch. 08



Wednesday Poker night at Sarge's was offered only to a select few friends, usually people known to share Sarge's little "quirks." 

This particular Wednesday, Shawn and Anna, Mama San, and Auntie K arrived early to get the girl ready. They checked to make sure her pussy was smooth and shaved. Auntie K used vacuum pressure on the nipples until they were gorged, Mama San winding thread so tightly around the base of the nipples that they poofed over the sides and hid the thread. She was angry and taking it out on Shawn. She didn't like that Anna had been forced into this. 

Mama San slathered ginger juice into the girl's anus, pussy, on the nipples and clit, then jabbed a dollop inside Shawn. The oversized pearls that Sarge had favored before were back, dosed in the juice, and roughly shoved inside Shawn, who arched her back and spread her legs wide. Mama San smacked the inside of her legs.

"Eager slut!" she snapped.

Then Auntie K was working the vacuum pressure on Shawn's labia and clit, the whole area this time, until that was swollen. They closed the lips together tightly with a U clamp that had tiny grippers of little rubberized teeth on the insides, keeping the pussy from spreading open. The pearls were trapped inside along with the ginger juice, which was heating up and stirring and already making the blood pound. Mama San tied thread around the base of Shawn's clit so tightly that it, too, gorged and puffed and overspilled, hiding the thread. Chains were threaded through the collar's D ring and clover clamps placed on the nipples. A chain threaded around the waist was looped down and another clover clamp snapped on at the base of the clit, though the skin was so puffed that it hid part of the little gold clamp ring at the base. Shawn moved her head from side to side.

"Be still, slut," said Mama San. She put leather belts around the tops of Shawn's thighs, buckling them tightly. They would rub into the flesh near the lips when she walked. With Anna's help, they slipped a small black leather half corset around Shawn's waist and pulled it so tightly that she gasped, at which time, Mama San was able to pull it even one notch tighter. The waist was tiny.

They helped her up and stood, waiting, until Rodriguez came and took them down the hall to the room which was overhung with cigar smoke. They entered, but Sarge insisted that the other women leave and wait in the small room where they had been with Shawn previously. Anna was furious, but left. 

Sarge walked around Shawn, looking, approving.

"Well. Good." He rubbed his hands together as he had before.

"What did I tell you?" he asked. The men grinned and laughed. Sarge nudged her towards one of them.

"Go on, girl. Move around the room. Let them get a good look and feel." She obeyed, moving silently, passed from one to another. They stroked the lips, pressed tightly together by the U clamp, tugged at nipples and clit. Hands found her waist. She moved around until she was back at Sarge.

By then, the game was over. How could it go on? Sarge nodded at Rodriguez and Michael, who had entered. They cleared the table, laid Shawn down on it, and strapped her to it, spreading her wide.

"What did I tell you?" Sarge pressed a finger on her clit, and she squirmed a little. 

"A real little slut!" agreed one of the men, Ernie. He was overweight and wearing a cowboy hat and smelled of cigars and whiskey. He leaned over Shawn. "Pretty little thing." He put his hand on her belly. She quivered.

"Where's that labia thing?" Sarge asked. Rodriguez held it out. Sarge jerked off the U clamp, which made Shawn spasm a little, then he worked on the labia spreader, spreading her pussy wider, then wider still. It hurt a little. He was a lot stronger than Mama San and was able to pull the leather thongs more tightly. He was able to notch them two levels tighter than she ever had. The leather cut in. He pulled the lips out to each side, making the pussy open wider. 

"Give me a pillow," he snapped at Ernie, who obliged. They slid it under her hips, raising them. Sarge's fingers trembled a little. He opened a box and showed the men around the table a set of clamps. He put them on the outside edges of Shawn's lips, so they couldn't pull back in, even though the labia spreader was so tight. They looked at her. Sarge put alligator clamps on her nipples, squeezing the last little bit of nipple so they pushed up just above the clamps, dark red and swollen. He nodded. 

"Gimme that jar," he said to Rodriguez, who hesitated. "DAmmit, give me that jar!" Rodriguez nodded. He looked a little sick, so Sarge told him to leave. 

Sarge pulled out a set of large tweezers from his little box and slowly, carefully, undid the lid on the jar. There was an angry noise inside. Carefully, he worked the tweezers inside as the men waited, watching. Finally, Sarge retrieved his little prize: a bee.

He held it in place with his tweezers as it angrily stirred around. He showed it to Shawn as the bee's stinger jabbed around, looking for a victim. 

"See that, honey?" said Sarge cheerfully. "The stinger looks just like a little prick." He laughed at his joke, and the other men joined him, leaning forward. "DAmmit, Ernie, get that hat off, I can't see!" Ernie slung his hat to one side and leaned forward. He was panting and wiping sweat. 

Five men watched, Michael one of them. Sarge edged the bee closer to his face and thumped it gently on the insect's body. It buzzed furiously, the stinger jabbing up and down rapidly. He grinned, moved forward. He deliberately leaned up against her pussy with his crotch, grinding against. "Oh yeah," he crooned. "You're a perfect little slut." He held the bee in the tweezers and moved it close to a nipple, her eyes watching it, then him. He grinned. 

"Scared, ain't she?" he said. The men grinned. "Ernie, keep your hand on the inside of her leg. Rub on it. Frank, you do the same on her other leg." They did. Ernie wished he could get closer to her pussy, but Sarge was there first. 

The men watched. Sarge waved the bee over the nipple, then away. Shawn relaxed a little. Sarge grinned, then laughed. He sounded nasty. "All little sluts have to be punished. YOu know that."

He plunged the bee down into the center of the gorged, puffed nipple. It stung her in the center of the nipple, and she jerked, her, against her cuffs and chains. She tried to move away. Sarge guffawed. He grabbed the jar again and worked the tweezers around, shaking the jar a little. He pulled out another bee. If anything, it was angrier than the first, the stinger jabbing the air in fury. Shawn shook her head, no. Sarge grinned.

"But you don't have any choice, do you?"

She scratched desperately at the chains that held her wrist cuffs in place, trying to move. He suddenly jabbed down with the bee so it too stung her, squarely in the center of the nipple. Tears came from her eyes. Both nipples were swelling more, the first larger than the second, though it was rapidly gaining in size. Sarge laughed.

"You know what's next, don't you?" She struggled against the chains, clawing at one of the links. Sarge backed up, digging into the bottle again. Shawn jerked, bucking, trying to move away. Sarge slammed the lid shut, angry.

"Hey, you don't move, hear?" He took off his belt, wrapped the end around his hand. He smacked her pussy with the loose end once, twice, again, several times. This she could understand. She quieted a little. He picked up the jar, throwing his belt aside. "Pick that up, Michael." Michael scooped up the belt quickly.

Sarge pulled out another bee, huge and furry, wriggling with anger, the stinger longer and more wicked than the other two. He put his hand on her belly. "Don't move," he warned, and he held the bee over her clit. She stilled, her breasts heaving. The men were quiet, the only sound Ernie wiping his sweat. "Damn," said Ernie in hushed tones. Sarge grinned, then jabbed the bee at Shawn's clit. It stung her and it hurt. She jumped.

"We ain't done yet, sugar," said Sarge. He pulled out another bee and laid it against the inside of the stretched pussy lip, letting it sting her near the opening. She jumped and wrenched, tugging, pulling and heaving. Sarge jerked his belt out of Michael's hands and wrapped it around his fist again, then slammed the loose end again and again on the girl's nipples and open pussy. Tears crept out of the corners of her eyes and her mouth quivered, but she stopped moving. He laughed and threw the belt at Michael, grabbed another bee, and let it sting her on the inside of the other pussy lip, near the opening. He looked at her, satisfied, and then unzipped his pants. He reached into his box and pulled out alligator clamps and clipped them, standing upright, onto the ends of her nipples. She opened her mouth in a wordless scream, and that was when he shoved into her pussy with his cock. All of the men took a turn, using her. Sarge twisted the alligator clamps as much as he could when the others were fucking her so that she shook her head in that wordless scream again. He laughed, and so did some of the others who were watching. 

When they were done and he had sent those men home, he pulled off all of the clamps and removed the labia spreader. Her nipples and clit and pussy were in pain and swollen. He laughed again and went around the table. 

"Get this good and hard," he said, and pushed his cock into her mouth. She choked, and he put his hands around her neck. She struggled to breathe. "I said, get it good and hard." She sucked a little, and his hands eased up. He shoved into her mouth until he was hard and almost hurting. Satisfied, he went around to the other end, picked up his belt, and whipped her across the breasts and on the pussy and clit several times. Then he moved around and slipped the belt around her neck, pulling it tight, and cinching it. She almost could not breathe.

"That'll make it feel real good for you," he said.

He moved back around and pulled on her pussy with his fingers, pulling the lips apart, stretching, twisting, pinching on the sore places where the bees had stung. She gasped but could barely breathe with the belt tied around her neck. He nodded. "I'm gonna fuck you now, whore," he said, and did. When he finished, he looked around the room and found a candle, then pushed that into her and played with her. "I'm not letting you up until you cum again. I want to know you like this," he said. To her horror, with the pain and the shock, she still came around the thick candle, and he was finally satisfied and untied her. Michael had to carry her back to Anna and the others.

Sarge entered as Mama San and Auntie K were cleaning her. Even Mama San looked troubled. 

"You bring her this weekend. All weekend, she's mine. Get these two old crones to come so they can keep her pussy juiced up. You do that-" he nodded at Anna, "- and we'll call it even and be done." She glared at him, then nodded. 

"Agreed. But that's it."

"That's it."

Sarge waved at them happily when they left. 

He was looking forward to the weekend.



Shawn Ch. 09



Anthony was angry. For two days, since they'd brought Shawn home, she'd been sick from the bee stings. In his mind, Anthony was a cowboy, at times even a mental Lone Ranger, riding in to the rescue of his ladies. The past two nights, he had dreamed of riding in and stomping Sarge and leaving a silver bullet where...

"Anthony!"

He jumped. He was supposed to be getting supplies together for Anna. They were leaving that evening to go back to That Man's house. Anthony frowned. He'd still like to shove that silver bullet up that guy's -

"Anthony, NOW!" 

Anthony sighed, hefted the bag of supplies, and left the Winnebago for the little car they always towed with them. He threw it in the trunk, scowling. Mama San and Auntie K were walking to the car, Shawn between them. She looked a little better today, but nervous. Anna came out. She didn't look Anthony in the eye. 

He was troubled by that. Anna didn't want this any more than he did. Anthony had always been used to Anna being decisive, though, taking charge, being assertive and confident. This new Anna frightened Anthony, in a way. Everything was different. 

Maybe...maybe he really should BE a cowboy? maybe it was time for him to ride in like a hero...

He finished packing the car, watched the women get in and drive away.

"Bambi!" he shouted at the little camper parked near the Winnebago. He rapped on the door.

"Yeah?" Bambi looked like she had been asleep.

"You still got that cell phone?" Anna didn't know about the cells the girls kept. Bambi and Bunni had their own little cache of men in different cities they visited. Anthony suspected that one day the twins would take off, after getting enough money. Anna usually kept her phone in her purse.

Bambi ruffled her hair, yawned. "Bunni! Gimme the phone!" Rustling noises, then a hand waving the phone appeared. Anthony averted his eyes, like a true gentleman cowboy. He was feeling almost cheerful now. He took the phone, waved at the twins, and went into the Winnebago. Where was that number? Ahhh - found it! He smiled and began dialing.

Time to be the Lone Ranger.

****** The ride back to Sarge's was quiet. Even Mama San and Auntie K didn't talk. Anna kept staring out the window. Anthony nodded to himself. He had been right to make the call. 

Now it was just a matter of waiting. ************

Sarge had decided to go to a friend of his, some kind of Asian. Really, the guy wasn't a friend. He just like some of the same things Sarge did. That made him a friend.

Shawn rode naked on a horse again, following Sarge. Her wrists were tied behind her back. There was a knotted rope between her thighs that Sarge had tied in place before he put her on the horse. With the trotting movement of the horse, the knots kept rubbing and bumping into Shawn's pussy. She squirmed against it, humping it. Sarge looked back.

"That's right, girl. You get it good and juicy for me and Chan." Chan was the name the Asian went by. Sarge didn't know his real name. He didn't care, either.

They reached Chan's house about half an hour later. The inside of Shawn's legs were quivering. Her thighs were a little sore from clinching and bucking against the knotted rope. Sarge grinned, pulling her off the horse, watching her stagger a little. 


Chan was on the front porch, watching silently. He waved them indoors. It was a typical, fairly neat ranch-style house, settled in the midst of a grove of woods. No witnesses. Good.

It was just the two men and Shawn. They decided to eat first. Chan hooked her wrist D-rings into an overhead ceiling beam; he had a series of hooks and chains spread around the room. Sarge approved. Naked, Shawn dangled from her wrists.

"Look at her pussy," Sarge muttered. He was stuffing chicken down his throat. He leaned over and with slightly pudgy, greasy fingers, he prodded her clit. She opened her legs slightly. "A true slut." Chan nodded. 

They finished eating. Chan cleared the table neatly and quickly. He laid an old quilt onto the table. They unfastened Shawn and placed her on the table, chaining her down spread-eagle. Sarge poked her clit with his finger. She squirmed. 

"Hand me that jar," he said. He had talked a furious Mama San into handing him a small pot of the ginger juice . Now, he liberally applied it to Shawn's pussy and clit, the nipples, even jabbing some into her anus. He carefully put the lid back on the top. He'd keep the jar. It could come in handy again someday. 

Chan pulled out a small box and placed it on the table, opening it. Sarge leaned forward, eager. The man had claimed he could give new excitement to the slut, and to Sarge. He felt his cock getting harder. 

While Chan worked with the new items, Sarge gripped the girls' pussy with one large hand. The heel of his hand ground into her clit; hand over the pussy, the fingers dipped down and around. He moved his fingers now and then, massaging her, and pushed and rubbed the heel of his hand against the clit. She squirmed a little, pushing up some. He grinned. 

Chan worked quickly and efficiently. He pulled up a nipple, high, and wound thread at the base several times. Sarge had seen this before and wondered where the new excitement would be. Chan waved away Sarge's hand. When both nipples and clit had been bound and were beginning to puff from being tied, Chan placed metal clamps on the nipples and clit. He moved along, dipping into his box, then back to her body, tied and helpless on the table. Smaller metal clamps pinched the flesh of her inner thighs, near the groin; the lips had several clamps. Clamps were placed on the navel, on the flesh near the clit and at the top of the groin, around the breasts, along the ribs. 

Finally, Chan straightened. The box was empty; he was done. Sarge looked at him.

"What's next?"

Chan grinned. It was the first time Sarge had seen the man smile. It promised great things.

Chan went into the next room, then came back, humming happily to himself. He checked the clamps again. He opened the new box, placing it on a stand near the table, and pulled out what looked to Sarge like a metal stick.

"What's that?"

"Violet wand. Electricity."

Sarge grinned in amazement. The man WAS right. New excitement.

Chan started with a low voltage. He touched a clamp on the nipple, quickly and softly. There was a soft blue glow. He moved from clamp to clamp. Shawn jerked, pulling and tugging against the restraints. Her nipples actually puffed up more. Chan moved the violet wand to her pussy, which was wet now. He touched the wand to the clit clamp, and she jerked. He moved the wand back and let it lie against the metal a little longer this time. She bucked. 

"Hold her stomach."

Sarge obeyed, pressing down firmly with a splayed hand onto her belly. Chan pushed the violet wand against the metal clit clamp again, moving it around over the clamp, but always touching. Shawn's eyes half-closed. She jerked her hips up.

"She likes it! the little whore likes it!" Sarge marveled. He was so hard it was hurting. 

Chan touched the other clamps, sometimes lingering over one or two. He didn't cause the wand to arc. He was careful. He never moved the wand from nipple to nipple; that could cause a heart failure, he explained. Sarge nodded, mesmerized. The wand moved around her body, touching clamps. The metal hurt when the wand touched it, but it was a pain that was beginning to build in her, gorging her clit, pounding in her pussy, throbbing, aching, needing, wanting. 

Chan tapped the two clamps on the navel and she arched her head. He looked at Sarge and smiled. 

"Now one more thing."

Sarge tried to see in the box but he couldn't. Chan removed the metal clamps and put them back in the box. Sarge waited. Finally, he began applying little discs to her nipples and clit, the lips, the insides of her thighs. There were wires. He connected the wires to a box. He pulled out another metal object, a little larger, and pushed it inside her pussy, his fingers disappearing as he shoved it into place. She panted a little.

He stared at his work for a moment, then Chan added to more discs, to the tender flesh on each side of the clit, just slightly below it. It was a very sensitive area, very erotic.

Chan began working the box. The wires sent alternating, writhing movement of current to the muscles. Shawn bucked, eager. Her pussy was wet, her thighs glistening. Sarge was breathing heavily. 

Chan worked the large metal object inside her now. She threw back her head, eyes widening, her body jerking.

Chan grinned. "This hurts. But it makes pussy, very eager."

Sarge nodded. He was very eager, dammit. 

Chan finally pulled the metal out of her pussy. He adjusted the settings. Sarge could see the moving, writhing action of the adhesive discs start up again. Chan nodded at Sarge.

"This makes muscles move in her," he explained. "Electric current. You go on now, fuck her."

Sarge was ready. He was more than ready. He unzipped and pulled down his pants. The electricity was hurting her and stimulating her all at the same time. He could feel her muscles squeezing and contracting when he shoved into her. He fucked hard, not caring how it felt to her, just knowing how good he felt. He wiped his cock on her legs when he was finished. He moved around to her head. 

"Turn up the voltage," he told Chan. The man obliged. They could both see muscles moving and rippling slightly now. Shawn moved her head back and forth, eyes half-closed. She looked dazed but also excited, hot and slutty. Sarge put his hands on each side of her face. 

"Look at me, whore. I want to fuck you again, so you're gonna help. You get this nice and hard, fast. Ok?" She nodded. He shoved his cock into her mouth. She had done this before with him, of course. She knew to obey. She began to suck. 

Chan turned up the voltage a little more. She paused, lifting her hips. Sarge put his hand over her nose. "None of that, slut! You suck me into a hard cock or you don't breathe!" She started sucking again. Chan unzipped and played with her a little, rubbing his cock on her clit, teasing. He pushed a finger into her pussy, feeling around. She tried to push into it. Sarge grabbed her nipple and twisted it, hard. "Get me hard you slut!" he shouted. She sucked again. Chan turned up the voltage some more, adjusted two of the adhesive discs. Her hips bucked up and down a little. Chan nodded to himself, slid his cock in part way, then out. Rammed it in this time, then drew back out. Over and over, teasing her and himself. Partway in, pull out, ramming in a time or two, pulling almost out. Finally, he shuddered and began fucking her in earnest. Shawn eagerly pushed her hips up and down to meet him. She sucked hard on Sarge's cock.

When Chan was done, Sarge was harder, but not quite ready. 

"I need to see some punishment," he said gruffly. He jerked off his pants and moved around. He tugged the belt out of his pants, wrapped one end around his fist. He struck Shawn on the insides of her legs, on her pussy. 

"I have an idea," said Chan. Sarge waited. So far, the guy's ideas had been good.

Chan took the belt, moved to Shawn's head. He looped it around her neck, pulling it snugly against her throat, holding the end with one end. He looked at Sarge. 

"Breath play. Use that crop," he nodded to one side. Sarge moved over, his cock jutting up now. He picked up the crop, moved back. The wires in the little adhesive discs were still merrily causing Shawn's pussy to spasm. She had orgasmed several times. Sarge turned up the voltage another notch, then used the crop. He smacked her clit and pussy, her belly and breasts. Sometimes, Chan would put his hand over her nose and mouth so she couldn't breathe. He was an expert, Sarge thought. The man knew when to lift up his hand, let her breathe.

After a time, when Sarge was hard as a rock, he started to fuck her. 

"Wait," said Chan. Sarge was impatient, but he waited. 

Chan put his hand over her nose and mouth. They waited. She struggled, trying to breathe. Her nipples grew erect. Her clit and lips were swollen and puffy, reddish. Chan nodded at Sarge. Sarge began slower than he usually did, watching as she struggled. He was surprised when he felt her muscles jerk and spasm, orgasming around his cock, clenching him. He was excited. Chan let her breathe. After a moment, he put his hand over her mouth and nose again. Sarge fucked her harder. She came again, twice, gasping for breath when Chan let up. He grinned at Sarge. The little whore!

The afternoon wore on. After a while, Chan pulled out a wooden pony. He had a ribbed section on the top of the pony's inverted V edge that he was particularly proud of. He pointed this out to Sarge, who had poured himself a brandy and was sitting, pants still off, on a sofa nearby, watching. 

The pony was small but like Chan, it was efficient. The inverted V had a narrow angle; this would ride up inside of her pussy more, Chan explained. Sarge nodded, swirling the drink in his glass. 

Chan helped Shawn over to the wooden pony. He'd removed the adhesive discs sometime before. He had to carry part of her weight; her legs were shaky from the muscles being overworked. He heaved, putting her atop the edge of the pony. She jerked up a little, the sore and tired thighs trying to push herself up from the edge. Sarge laughed. 

Chan tied her wrists behind her back, then to a small hook on the back of the pony. There was a similar small hook on the front end. Sarge watched curiously. Chan clamped her nipples with tweezer clamps, then pulled the chain forward and latched it onto the waiting hook.

He pulled padded weights out from another box and wrapped these around each of her ankles, pulling her weight down, crushing her clit and naked, wet pussy against the ribbed edge of the pony. He sat down with his own drink then, and they watched her struggle for a time. 

First she would tenderly try to ease up, lifting the weight of her body off of the clit. But her muscles, already tired, soon gave out. Finally, she arched her back and held still for a moment, then ground back and forth.

"Ahhh," said Chan. He raised his glass to her.

"Yeah," said Sarge. He gulped his down, added some more. Shawn struggled, then would grind her clit back and forth. Her legs were slick with wetness. She finally slumped, exhausted, before Chan unhooked her and puller her off the pony. He let her lie on the floor, wrists still tied behind her back. He sat back down, gently using the toe of his boot to tap against her reddened pussy. She jerked, spasmed, and they could tell she had cum again.

"Quite a slut," Sarge laughed. He set his glass down, then moved Chan's leg away from her. He pulled her up and sat her on his cock, and he fucked her. "Little sluts who like to fuck too much are always welcome here," he laughed, then grabbed her shoulders and slammed her down harder onto his cock. 

When they left, Sarge tied her wrists to the pommel of the saddle. She hadn't been able to stand at all. Sarge grabbed the reins of her horse and they rode back in the dark, lit only by the moon. She was naked and sore. She came while riding the horse twice, from the jolting. 

It took three days before the swelling and redness left her. Even the lightest touch on her clit could cause her to orgasm. 

Mama San wisely refrained from using any ginger juice during that time.

*******

The call came late one night. Anthony had kept the cell phone with him. He went outside, speaking quietly and quickly. 

"I understand," said the voice. "I'll be there tomorrow."

Anthony relaxed. 

Eric Johannsen was riding to the rescue. 



Shawn Ch. 10



Eric Johannsen lived in a penthouse in the Buckhead area of Atlanta. It was not an overly tall building, but it was convenient and he liked it. There were two floors that he owned at the top that were solely for him, his family, and a few friends. He had two grown sons who occasionally stayed there, both of whom were involved in the family business. He had a female chauffeur, Lydia, who was sleek and blonde and very protective of his privacy. 

The rooms on the top floor were mostly for parties or family gatherings. The rooms opened onto a terrace that was lined by trees, all moved by crane at great expense. There was a pool where he could swim without having pitying eyes look at his legs, and a small lawn with flowers at the edges. It was peaceful, a garden in the midst of a city, and he enjoyed it.

The floor below held his rooms, baths, guest rooms, kitchen, and a place for his therapist to give him a private workout, or for a massage. He could take an elevator to the floors below and enter directly from his suites to his office, or even enter the boardroom privately. 

When he had answered Anthony's call, he had been overseas, so it had taken a few days for the message to reach him, that he was needed. He remembered the girl, so petite and fiery, lovely, so willing...

After flying home, therefore, he'd gone immediately to the rescue, and indeed, the whole group had come with him: Anna, Anthony, Mama San and Auntie K. The twins had finally decided to go to California and try their luck with the movies. Eric was betting that he knew what kind. 

He'd put the four into two guest rooms, with strict orders to his guards who were allowed in his private quarters to make sure they stayed away from Shawn.

Shawn, he kept near him. 

She'd been very sore at first, tired. He'd had his own doctor check her and ignored the raised eyebrows. The stings had been treated. Eric had thanked Anthony. 

Eric was also convinced that there was more to this little group, and Shawn, than they were telling. He'd encouraged them to stay as his guests for a while, and they'd accepted. It seemed to him as though the Mistress, Anna, was a little nervous. Interesting. Eric did love a good mystery.

Shawn had rested and begun to recover quickly. He was curious about her. She didn't talk. Couldn't? Or wouldn't? or -- some trauma? He was intrigued.

But the fieriness he'd remembered had returned fully, and he did enjoy that so much. The look on Lydia's face! Priceless. He grinned to himself.

About two weeks after he'd brought Shawn and her group to his penthouse, Shawn had apparently begun feeling well enough to masturbate. He'd watched her, quietly, a voyeur more than twice her age, at least, as she had stroked herself.

A few days after that, he'd brought her into the boardroom with him. He'd been alone, and the outer doors were locked. Eric had called a friend and invited him to lunch. 

Shawn was wearing a little cutaway black leather jacket; its sides only 2 or so inches under her armpits, full length sleeves, the front cut open. The small flaps of leather only brushed the beginnings of the sides of her breasts. She wore a black leather collar; she had on black sheer lace gloves with no fingers, just the palms and wrists covered, though the wrists had leather cuffs in place.

The same sheer black lace was used for her hose, thigh high, with the tiniest of black dots embroidered here and there in the silkiness of the hose. Black pumps with heels to kill for, and ankle cuffs. A single gold chain around her waist, fine and strong. It glittered around her waist when she moved. 

David was 57 and an old friend. He arrived for lunch, cheerful and glad to see Eric again. They shook hands, and Eric called out for Shawn.

"Wait til you see this, David." Eric motioned for Shawn. She walked over to him and leaned against him, her left arm around his neck and shoulders. His right arm curled around her waist, and her right hand went over his. His hand moved down a little until his hand was on her right hip. She eyed David, unembarrassed.

David whistled. "What? Where the hell -- Eric!" he laughed and shook his head. 

"Come on," Eric waved him over. "Take a closer look."

David moved over almost timidly. Eric tsked.

"Shawn, he's shy. Help him out." 

She moved away from Eric slowly and went to David, who stood still, watching. She took one of his hands and placed it on her hip, and took the other and pulled it to her breast. He breathed in deeply.

"Oh damn."

"At least," chuckled Eric. He wheeled closer.

David shook his head. "Go on back to Eric," he said, smiling. She smiled back and returned to Eric's side. 

"I want to ask you to take a look at her, David."

"I just did!" David pulled out a chair and sat down.

"No, I mean her mind." David was a neurosurgeon. Eric explained about Shawn's inability to talk. "I want to know if she can't talk, or if it's some kind of trauma. Also -- " Eric rolled a little closer. "I tried teaching her some letters, David. She grabbed her head and started shaking it, like it hurt, a lot." 

David frowned, puzzled. "Ok. For you, I'll check her out. But she'll have to wear more than that, Eric!" They began discussing old times, old friends, and Lydia brought in lunch. She took Shawn away with her, and Eric explained what he knew. They made plans for David to start what Eric called "the investigation," finished lunch, and David left.

Shawn returned after David had gone, and she wandered around the room at times, then would move back to Eric now and then, while he worked. In the afternoon, two of the vice presidents in his company called, and he told them to come up to the boardroom. He grinned at Shawn and tweaked her nose playfully.

"You stay here. Bud is an old fuddy-duddy, but he collects porn magazines that he think nobody knows about. Sam is a lech. I think this is going to be fun!"

She stayed by his side, and Lydia let the two men enter a few moments later, then locked the doors again. 

The first man was portly, balding on top, his face friendly but slightly red from his walk. That was Bud. Sam was taller and wore a pale blue suit that had last been in fashion thirty years before -- if it had ever been in fashion. They stopped, Sam bumping into Bud's back, as they saw Shawn. Eric as smoothing his hand slowly up and down her right hip as she leaned sideways against him, her left arm again draped about his neck. He turned his head slightly and kissed the nipple of her left breast.

"How do you like my new plaything?" he grinned. The two men numbly pulled out chairs and sat, eyeing her. 

"Holy shit," Bud finally said. Sam had a greedy look in his eyes.

"Come on, sweetheart, sit on my lap," Eric told her, and she obliged, her back to him. She kept looking at the two men, which somehow seemed hotter to them, more erotic, that she did not blush or turn away, but stared back, unabashed. She settled onto Eric's lap comfortably, her legs on each side of his, leaned her head back onto one of his shoulders. She rested her arms on the outside of each of his chair's arms. 

Eric fondled one of her breasts slowly. "Do you like her?"

"Oh hell yes," breathed Bud, patting his forehead with a handkerchief. His face had gotten a little redder. His eyes were bulging slightly. Sam's lips were parted, and his tongue kept flicking out to lick them. 

Eric smiled. He moved his other hand slowly down to her crotch. "Let's show Bud and Sam how much fun we have, sweetheart," and his hand pressed gently on her crotch, rubbing down a little. Her legs opened a little wider, and Bud, sweating, choked.

"Be damned, Eric."

Eric's hand moved up and down a little further on her crotch, and he felt her head press back against his shoulder more. "Open up your legs some more, sweetheart," he crooned. "Show the nice men what a sweet little pussy you have." She opened her legs a little wider and scooted a little closer to Eric's knees, forcing her hips out a little. He moved his thumb gently back and forth on her clit. Her eyes closed. She pressed against his hand.

He pulled on her nipple with his left hand, pinching it a little, twisting a little. She breathed a little faster.

"Do you like my little slut?" he asked the men. Bud nodded. 

"Oh yeah," Sam said, staring. His hand had wandered to his thigh. Any moment now, Eric thought, Sam would start groping himself. 

Eric slid his right hand up and down her crotch a little faster, over the clit, then dipped two of his fingers between the lips, and inside her. She breathed in quickly and pushed her breasts up a little.

"That's it, sweetheart, that's good," he said softly. He moved his fingers in and out of her a little faster, pressing deeper. He whispered, "Do you like the nice men watching you?" She nodded, her eyes still closed. Eric smiled. He pushed a third finger inside her, and they could hear the slickness of his fingers, moving in and out of her, wet. She moved a little further towards his knees, pushing her hips out a little more. Her legs opened a little wider.

"Do you see how much she loves this?" Eric asked the men. They nodded, watching, awed, breathing heavily. He reached inside her, pushing up, his longest finger finding a spot, rubbing gently, and he felt her spasm, clench around his fingers, and he smiled. "Does that feel good, sweetheart?" and she nodded, but she pushed against his fingers again, searching for more.

He laughed and pulled out his fingers, slowly, and wiped them on a napkin left over from lunch. "You'll have to get one of these nice men to help you come again, sweetheart," he said, and when she stood reluctantly, he patted her bottom and pushed her gently towards the two men. 

"Go ahead," he said. "Or don't you want to play with her?"

Bud shook his head, but he wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. Sam patted his lap. She went over to him willingly, and he put his hands around her small waist and pulled her towards him, facing him. 

"How far -?" he asked Eric. 

"Use a condom." Eric tossed a packet to Sam. 

"Here? Now?" Sam looked shocked -- the lecher of the office, looking shocked! Eric grinned and shrugged.

"Well. If you don't want to..."

Sam frowned. He moved his hands up and down the sides of her body, down to the tops of her hose, up again, slowly, past the waist, up to the sides of her breasts. He swallowed hard. "I don't know, Eric. I mean, I've never -- and in front of others!" but he didn't take his eyes from her, or his hands. He pulled her closer, then hooked one of his fingers into her gold waist chain and tugged, moving her closer. His finger dug gently into her navel, and she leaned forward, her hands on his shoulders, and put her legs on the outside of each of his.

"Help him, Shawn," said Eric softly. 

She leaned forward, putting one of her nipples in his mouth, and his lips went around it of their own accord, sucking gently, nibbling. She edged forward until she sat on his lap, facing Sam, and wriggled her pussy against the bulge in his lap. He moaned and took more of her nipple into his mouth, tugging at it. She pulled one of his hands down, towards her crotch, and slipped his hand between her and him until he felt her wet and rubbing against him. She pressed against his hand a little, grinding slightly. He grabbed her bottom with both hands, then, and gripped them, tightly, squeezing, and pulling her against his trapped cock. She rocked against him a little, then pushed against his chest, pushing apart a little. His mouth released her nipple, and she leaned back a little. She moved her hands down and scooted back a little, still facing him, and she unzipped his pants, slowly, watching his eyes with her own. 

"Oh damn, oh damn."

Bud was patting his face, panting, red in the face, sweat beading on his forehead, but he was watching intently. 

She slowly finished unzipping Sam and worked her hand into his shorts until she found his cock. He was glad for the Viagara. Shawn pulled his cock from the shorts, freeing it, and it twitched and stood straight up. She smiled and rubbed a finger gently around its tip.

"Girl, you are going to kill me," Sam breathed. He gripped her shoulders. 

She took out the condom and unrolled it over his cock, slowly, her fingers teasing, moving up and down the sides of his flesh. She finished and looked at him and smiled, then looked back at Eric. 

He nodded. "Go ahead."

She nodded and turned back to Sam, moved his hands back to her bottom, where his hands gripped her flesh and pulled it apart a little, squeezing. She lifted up, found his tip, and slid it into her a little, then back out. He groaned.

"Oh God this girl is killing me, Eric," but Sam really wasn't paying attention to Eric or Bud or anyone in the room, just the tight hot flesh that was slowly teasing his cock.

She finally lowered herself onto him, wriggling a little, and he moaned. "Oh damn she's hot." 

She moved up a little, down, and became more eager, and Sam realized, to his amazement, he was fucking a girl in his boss' boardroom, in front of the boss, and it made it all the hotter and more exciting for him. He panted and moved her up and down on him, small woman that she was, and her nipples were flushed and tight and erect, rubbing against his shirt at times, and she rode him in front of his boss and co-worker, as they watched. At one point, she lifted her legs and bent her knees, so that all of her weight went down on his cock, and moved her legs apart as much as she could, taking in all of him possible, and he yelled, it was that good. He held her in place for a moment, twitching, and then felt the cum gushing out of him, hot and fierce, spurting against the condom, and he shuddered and clutched her to him. She sat on his cock for a moment, and he realized at some point she had come, because her legs were wet and she was still shuddering. After a time, she pulled back a little and came off of him, and took a cloth from Eric, pulled off the condom carefully and tossed it in the garbage, and cleaned his cock with a cloth. He felt himself shivering as her hands caressed him. She looked up at him, smiling as she wiped him clean. She finished, and moved to Bud.

"Oh God. I -- I can't." He looked nervously at Eric, who shrugged. 

"Another time then, perhaps?"

"Yeah. Sure. Another time." Bud nodded quickly. 

"Time for us to go, sweetheart," said Eric. Lydia arrived silently and let the two men out, locked the doors again. 

"Any idea what they wanted?" Lydia asked.

"None. Come on, sweetness," he said to Shawn. They went into Eric's office and to his bathroom. He knew this would be hard for her to do, but he was eager. There was so little he could do with this wheelchair, he enjoyed any kind of perversion that he could share with her. 

Lydia cleaned her, and he enjoyed watching. He suspected that Lydia had some desire for Shawn, and that would be interesting to encourage. They moved to the toilet and fitted the leather padded benches to each side, and Shawn knelt on them, her legs wide apart, over the toilet. There was a sturdy bar above her head, lowered, and she lifted her arms, and Lydia clinked the links of the cuffs to the links on each end of the bar, then raised the bar until Shawn's arms were cuffed overhead. Lydia nodded at Eric and stepped back, but watched.

He rolled forward, close.

"Now, little sweetheart," he said, running a finger down Shawn's belly, into her navel, down to her clit, "I want you to pee for me. You know how I like it." 

She struggled a little at first, her body still in the heat of sex. But finally, a little trickle started, and Eric watched, excited, and she urinated into the toilet while he watched. When she finished, his hands went to her bottom, and they were shaking slightly, so eager, so excited was he. His hands gripped her bottom and pulled it towards him. His thumbs pressed into the dip of her hips, towards her clit, and she breathed in quickly. He rubbed his thumbs up and down a little, then pulled her to him, and he leaned forward. His mouth found her clit and sucked at it. His tongue went between the lips, inside her, flicking, invading, touching. His fingers kneaded her bottom, dipping down, pulling her apart further. His teeth nibbled on each lip, tugging a little. He pulled more of her clit and the flesh into his mouth, gnawing gently. He pushed three of his fingers inside her, and she sucked in breath and shivered, and came. 

He played with her a little longer, then reached for the towel that Lydia held out to him, then unhooked Shawn from the bar and helped her down. They moved next into Eric's office, and he pulled Shawn over his lap, face down, and smoothed his hand on her bottom softly, then he smacked her sharply on the bottom with his bare hand, and she jerked. He held one of her arms, and he smacked her naked bottom several times, until it was red from his hand. 

"Table," he said to Lydia, who nodded and tugged Shawn towards a small worktable in his office and helped her onto it. Shawn lay down, and Lydia shackled her in place, arms overstretched, legs wide apart, hips at the very edge of the table, pussy bared and open. 

Eric rolled closer to Shawn's face as Lydia worked; small beaded nooses were placed around the base of each nipple and pulled tight. Already the first nipple was gorging, swelling. Eric reached up and tweaked it. Shawn looked at him and smiled. Lydia finished the second nipple and then added a clamp to the base of Shawn's clit; she jerked a little, but Eric could see that the clit, too, was already puffing nicely. He smiled.

"Sweetheart, I've got some work to do now, but I'll send in someone to have fun with," he promised her. He rolled out of the room. Lydia put away her box that had held the little beaded nooses and the clamp, and rang the guard room. Eric kept several people as personal guards. 

"Who's next?" she said. She waited a moment, listening. "Uh huh. Ok. Yeah, she's ready." She hung up and looked at Shawn, hands on her hips. "You are one more lucky slut," Lydia told Shawn. She frowned, reached out a hand towards Shawn, then dropped it.

A man with broad shoulders and a nice clean-cut face passed Lydia in the hallway. "She's in there," Lydia jerked her thumb over her shoulder. He nodded and ambled in, pulling a condom packet out of a basket as he entered. The boss was meticulous about this. 

"Hey there," he said cheerfully to Shawn. "Just you and me." He unzipped his pants, pushed them down to his ankles along with his briefs, pulled on the condom. He looked at the clamp on Shawn's clit with interest. "That hurt?" he asked her. She shrugged, as much as she was able. He rubbed a finger over the swollen clit gently. She breathed in deeply, arching her back a little. "Oh man." He leaned forward, braced his hands on the table, and pushed his cock inside her. "Oh mannnnn," he said again, and he grunted as he rutted against her, the table jerking a little with his movements. 

Lydia stood in the hallway, listening. Her hand pressed against her belly, then lower, a little lower -- she froze. Then she listened to the man, grunting, moaning, panting with lust, and her hand moved down again, pushing against her own clit, and she leaned back against the wall, sighed, and closed her eyes as she rubbed herself gently. 

Maybe...