****** The Excursion by ClairMatin@aol.com ******
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The Excursion


Trish, my secretary, dropped the FedEx letter on my desk nonchalantly.

"Taking a trip?" she asked.

"Hmmmm?" i replied, my head buried deep in financial projections and my
attention riveted in resolving that stubborn circular calculation that had
eluded me for the past 15 minutes.

"This is another one from that 'Excursion' place. What is that, a travel
agency? I just wondered when you were going. I had planned on taking some time
off too, you know, and we always seem to plan the same weeks. And YOU always
seem to get them."

i hated her petulant pout when rank got the best of her.

My heart froze as she said the word "excursion." For me, in the life i had
chosen with a decidedly sadistic and creative Master, the word had an entirely
different meaning from the Club Med cruises that Trish called fun.

"I don't think it will be a problem, Trish. Hey i'm trying to think here...
will you snag my calls and shut the door on your way out?"

i struggled not to look at the blue and white envelope sitting there in the
middle of my cluttered desk, knowing that i'd be hard pressed to hide my
trembling and arousal.

"Sure. Wherever you're going, bring back pictures. I'm on my break. Be back at
10:30."

Pictures? Not bloody likely! Trish pulled the door behind her, sneering ever-
so-slightly as she always did at the VP behind the name on my door plate.

i snatched the envelope up and studied the return address. It was the code he'd
worked out when i first became His: the return address on the mailing label
told where i was to meet him, and the suite number was the time. '101 Maple,
Suite 1800', a tawdry area of downtown, this evening at 6:00 p.m. i groaned
inwardly as i realized how many hours i would have for the anticipation and
torment to build.

i chuckled when i realized that in his inimitable way, he even communicated
that he knew just how i was feeling. In the 'billing reference' he'd added the
initials 'W.E.T.'

i shook the envelop, fully expecting it to be empty as it had been in the past.
Wrong again. The man never failed to surprise me. i unfolded the note that he'd
included:

"There's a package in the back of the minivan. Do not open the package till you
get to the rendezvous point. I'm sure you'll know what to do then."

i faked my way through a couple of meetings, made the few phone calls that my
mind could handle, decided to postpone working on Trisha's performance review,
had my nails done at lunch to kill time and agonized as the hands crawled
around the face of my watch.

i made small talk with the guard, signed out at precisely 5:02, and made my way
past the buildings that were expelling thousands of professionals like me. Bet
none of *them* are doing what i am tonight (whatever the hell it is), i
thought, as i glanced at a few anonymous faces in the crowd. i reached the
garage, which always made me a bit skittish with its shrouded corners and
echoes of random footsteps, and unlocked the minivan. M had always joked that
it was a perfect place for a kidnap scene -- not tonight at least.

Ever try to ignore something like a mysterious package? Impossible. i honestly
don't remember the traffic, or the Maple Street Exit, but i do remember
searching for 101 Maple for about 15 minutes. All that was on the damned corner
was a bus stop and, praise to the great parking spot gods, a meter with $.75
left on it. i parallel parked, not an easy feat on a good day, turned off the
motor, and clambered back to get the package. 5:52 p.m. Not bad.

A typed note, taped to the outside of the box (i love it when he plays
'Treasure Hunt.')

"Dress. Chain between your legs and run it through the cut in the back of the
dress. Make a lovely belt for yourself, dear, and lock the padlock behind you.
Leave your purse and lock it, along with your car keys, in the van. Take the 6:
09 bus. i do so hope you don't miss it -- it's the last one tonight. Sit in the
middle of the very back seat, hands behind you, legs spread wide like i know
you can. Make me proud of you."

As i read, i felt the unmistakable gnawing of fear usurping all other emotions.
And he knew that, for his unsigned note ended, "Fear is erotic, don't you
think?"

Damn, i had what, 10 minutes now to get undressed and into whatever getup he'd
chosen for the night. Like a kid on Christmas morning, i ripped open the box to
find a khaki colored t-shirt, the one that he'd sliced with his knife. The one
that was slit up both sides, with the huge neckline and arms cut out that made
it impossible to hide my breasts. i cursed under my breath and looked around
guiltily that he might have heard me.

i shed my wool suit and $150 blouse, leaving them in a ball on the seat. At
least this excursion didn't start in the middle of the day, and it was dark out
here. i left the thigh-high stockings on.. . he liked me in stockings. No
panties of course. Bra was gone in a split second and tossed casually atop the
other clothes.

i squatted in the van, draped the clanging chain between my legs and parted my
lips, gasping at the cold steel against my hot wet softness. i slipped the t-
shirt over my head and saw where he'd added a hole in the back, for the chain
belt. i drew the chain up tight against my cunt, pulled the chain up and
through the hole, wrapped it around me, and snapped the padlock shut. i
arranged the t-shirt to cover as much as i could and slipped my pumps back on.
The transformation from Vice President to vice slut was complete with three
minutes to spare.

Following his directions, got out of the van, i locked my purse and keys inside
and then realized i didn't have bus fare. Fuck. Now what? He hadn't said
anything about it. Fuck. My brain had relinquished all thought capabilities to
my cunt, and my cunt had forgotten. Fuck. i waddled over to the bus stop to try
and figure out how to sweet talk my way onto the bus without a cent to my name.

The unmistakable whoosh of hydraulic brakes and diesel fuel warned me that it
was show time. With all the grace my chained cunt would allow, i climbed the
stairs into the (thankfully) empty bus.

"Ummm.. i'm really sorry.. but i seem to have locked my purse in the car and i
was hoping....."

"Were you given permission to speak to me?" the bus driver interrupted,
scowling.

Sheesh, they're *everywhere*, i thought. But i humbly responded, "No Sir."

"Then take your seat."

The bus lumbered off even before i had made my way to the rear of the bus. i
settled in the middle of the back seat, just as i had been instructed, spread
my legs wide, and placed my hands behind me.

The chain pinched and vibrated against me as the bus moved deeper and deeper
into sleazy neighborhoods. i saw the driver arrange the passenger-view mirror
to get a better angle of the show i was putting on, and i felt violated by his
leering gaze. His eyes left my cunt long enough to glide the bus to a stop, and
i heard the doors open.

i watched with fascination as a man boarded and exchanged a few words with the
driver. DriverDom reached into his pocket and handed something small to the
newcomer, who traded it for an envelope. DriverDom looked at me and opened the
envelope, and i was horrified to see him counting the money it contained.

When he finished, he spoke to the stranger. i swear, if there was such a thing
as a Dom secret handshake, it passed between them.

"It's all there. Man, a thousand bucks. She must be some piece of ass. Don't
drop that key, or by the looks of those chains slicing her, you won't be
getting much out of her. Or should I say, you won't be getting much INTO her.
She's all yours. At least for a few hours."

Then he turned full face to me. "Out of my bus, cunt... but first i want you to
clean that seat. Lick it up. Don't want my boss to see your juices runnin' all
over that fine industrial grade vinyl."

Oh, i was mortified beyond words, but i did as i was told. i bent over, fully
exposing all my charms, and licked the seat clean. He was right. It was wet.
Proof of how wet i was, even at the prospect of being sold to god- knows-who. A
grand. A grand whore. Dazed, i rose and awaited instructions.

"Crawl to me, ass first. I want to see what I paid for." The stranger's voice
was quietly assured, calm and possessive. The humiliation of crawling across
the gritty floor of the city bus flamed my face and my desire. i crawled until
i reached his feet, the chains pulling and pinching with every movement.

He helped me to my feet, as any gentleman might do, and inspected me then and
there. He pulled my t-shirt from my body, slipped his hands through the
armholes, and pulled and twisted my breasts. He pulled on the chain at my
waist, which pulled the steel so it cut even more into my cunt. He raised the
bottom of the shirt and displayed my ass to the driver. He took me by the arm
and said softly, "My car's over here. Let's go."

His first private words to me were a comfort. "Seven, Three, Nine, Nine, Four."
It was the code that Master and i had worked out, my PIN number he called it.
If he ever loaned me to anyone, that person would be given the code so that i
knew he had Master's permission. That was also my sign to submit fully to this
person, because he was acting in Master's stead.

He helped me into the car, pulled away, and spoke as he drove. "Did your Master
mention that he'd applied for membership to a private club?" i shook my head,
and my puzzled expression must have trumpeted my ignorance.

"Very exclusive. Limited membership of like-minded individuals. There are some
monetary fees involved, when the application form is first submitted. Happens
to be $1000. Background checks are run, and the couple is watched for a period
of time to see if they are "our" kind of people."

i blushed in the darkness, remembering of other excursions and the feeling i'd
had of being watched. Not merely observed, but that creepy kind of slight
paranoid feeling of being stalked.

He continued, "If our observations and background checks are satisfactory, the
Master is invited to fulfill his first membership duty. The application money
is cheerfully refunded when and if the applicant surrenders a piece of
cherished property to the club for a set period of time -- 12 hours. Let's call
it an initiation rite. If you perform to our standards, your Master will be
admitted to full membership. If not... well let's just leave it at that for the
time being. I'm sure you will do fine, just as you have in the past."

He pulled into the lot of a nondescript but slightly shabby industrial
building.

"Let me just say a few final words. You will have no say in what will happen
over the course of the next 12 hours. Neither does your Master. You will be
back at work tomorrow morning, just like any other day. Oh, isn't Trish
charming? I'm glad that we were able to get her the position as your assistant.
I'm sure she'll be delighted you've joined us, though she usually takes more of
a 'leadership' role in Club matters."

It was an extraordinarily evil chuckle that escaped his lips as he continued.

"Nothing is to be spoken to anyone, including your Master, of what transpires
during this time. He will not participate in this event, however, he will be
apprised of the activities at the appropriate time. He has agreed to this, and
I have a signed statement to that fact if you wish to see it."

i shook my head no.

"Very well. As of right now, the Club owns you. I will be the one primarily
responsible for you, and you are to call me Owner. You are to call everyone
Owner. You are property -- chattel -- and that is what you will be called.

"I assure you of your long-term personal safety, although there will be a few
temporary reminders by the end of your visit. If you do well enough to admit
your Master to full membership, there will also be a permanent marking that
will identify you as Club property. Your Master will be requested to surrender
you occasionally in the future, if the Owners choose to exercise that right.
Now, get out of the car, please, and remove your shoes and stockings.

"By the way, you've just earned your first point. Your Master did not say to
wear shoes and stockings, did he?"

Abashed, i had to admit that he hadn't.

"chattel can accumulate three points without repercussion. Points never expire
and they continue throughout your Master's term of membership. On the fourth
point, your Master's application is considered void, full ownership of you will
revert to him, and he will be shunned by all other members of the Club. But I'm
sure there will be no further indiscretions."

He reached into his coat pocket and removed a key, which i realized was the
small object that he had been given by the driver. He walked around me, slid
the key into the lock, and released me from my chains. Then, there in the
parking lot under the glare of the halogen street light, he ripped the t-shirt
from my back and left me nude and shivering in the damp cold evening.

He placed a large, hard piece of rubber between my teeth and told me to bite
down. It looked a bit like a bathtub plug. He snapped a leash through the D-
ring that was affixed to the outside of the contraption.

"Lose the gag, earn a point."

He tugged, seemed to approve of the amount of tension that he felt, and
gestured for me to get to my hands and knees. Wordlessly, he led me across the
gravel parking lot and into the building.

The others were waiting for us. They had lined up on either side of the door in
two parallel lines.... a veritable gauntlet. They were spaced about 3 feet
apart from each other, obviously to give themselves room to use the implements
that each held in their hands. Each line looked to be about 15 feet long, with
5 or 6 men on each side.

Owner motioned for me to rise and removed the mouthpiece. My jaw was cramped
from gripping the hard rubber, but that was to become the least of my concerns.

"Based on the responses that were given by your Master, and the results of our
background checks on you both, we've designed an evening that we feel will be
especially well suited to your particular interests and talents. And speaking
for my friends here, we are confident that you will be most expressive in
showing your gratitude for our thoughtfulness." He paused a moment for effect.
"Your mother is a delightful woman, by the way. Most charming."

i was trembling with fear and anguished that they had spoken to my mother. i'd
taken such care not to divulge my involvement in this lifestyle, and i had no
idea what they had said or not said to her.

"Your first duty will be to serve us with that deliciously skilled mouth of
yours. Your Master told us in his application that you are an exquisite
cocksucker, and we'd like to test his objectivity in the matter. For now, you
won't be allowed to savor the fruits of your endeavors. But we understand that
you like wearing cum on your face. Only after you have pleased one will you
move to the next, and I'm sure your Owners can think of some ways to keep you
motivated and focused in your task. Gentlemen, shall we begin?"

It felt like some perverted line dance. As soon as i began sucking the first
Owner, the guy across from him started skillfully applying the crop to my ass.
The first held my head and fucked my face like there was no tomorrow, and my
eyes teared and i fought back gags as i struggled to pleasure him. i gave him
my best, i swear i did. My tongue swirled and darted as he thrust deeper and
deeper into my throat. The crop strokes rained down on me and i fought against
surrendering to the pain. i knew that i needed every conscious thought to
please these men. It was almost as they knew that i feared having my head held
while cocksucking. It occurred to me that they did know.

As he pulled from me and sprayed my face, the crop found a new target and
ravaged my cunt. Strokes from underneath anguished my tender flesh as the cum
began its slow drip down my face. Still on my knees, i moved quickly to service
the next Owner.

This Owner held perfectly still and made me do all the work. My head bobbed and
swerved, as i took him deep into my throat and then drove my mouth up and down
his shaft. Again, i used my tongue as i had been taught, stroking the underside
of his thick cock and pressing him against the roof of my mouth. i protected my
teeth and worked rhythmically to bring him to an explosion that sprayed my left
cheek and ear. i moved on immediately, from one to another, serving the cock
conga line.

Cock after cock filled my throat and plunged me into a depth of servitude i've
never known. i had not seen any faces, not heard any voice, not connected in
any with the individuals i was sucking. Only their cocks and their cum, only
their flogs, their paddles, their whips marked my movement through the
gauntlet. Cock after cock spewed on my face, and cum dropped from my chin to
cover my breasts. My back, my ass, my breasts throbbed from the painful
torments as i relished the sensations even as my mind grew numb.

i reached the end of the first line, turned and began to work my way back to
Owner. Huge cocks, small cocks, thick penetrating cocks, half flaccid ones that
grew stiff and throbbing under my skilled sucking and tongue massage. All using
my mouth. Moans of pleasure told me that my tongue was performing its duty,
that my sucking was meeting their need and urging them to glaze me again with
their cum. My neck ached from holding my head back, my jaw ached from holding
my mouth wide open, every pore hurt where the strokes had claimed my flesh...

... and i was as alive and as enslaved as i had ever been. i knew that i was
meeting and exceeding their expectations of my skill. i knew that every cum
shower was another success, that every moan was a vote of confidence in my
abilities. i knew that i was making Master proud. i was doing it all for him.

Hours of sucking, it seemed, passed before i worked my way back to Owner, who
remained to be served. i reached to please him, and i was shocked to feel him
holding me from him, tilting my head to look into his eyes. Admiring eyes,
satisfied eyes, lustful yet respectful eyes.

"property, you have done well. Here let me clean you. Close your eyes."

I did as he bid, and i felt a single stream spraying my face. i knew without
tasting the salty fluid that it was his piss that was cleaning me, bathing me.
The others joined in and showered the welts on my back, my ass, my breasts. i
knelt there, losing myself in the warmth and proud in the knowledge that i had
passed the first test.

i cleaned them all with my tongue and savored every drop that remained on the
tender tips. Each cleansing ended with a gentle kiss. i turned back to face
Owner, the one who had brought me to this place, and knelt with my head to the
floor.

"They will be here soon... best get her ready, don't you think?" A voice wafted
through my consciousness and roused my curiosity. i throbbed with pain and
desire.

They led me to a shower stall, turned on the cold water, and scrubbed me from
head to toe. Stiff, intrusive brushes scratched and penetrated every fold,
crease and cranny. i was ordered to squat and piss into the drain, and they all
peered at me as i obeyed the command to pull my cunt lips apart as i did so. i
stood in front of a fan and trembled as the cool air dried my skin, leaving my
nipples taut and wanting.

"One of the ways the Club finances its activities is to produce some rather
interesting audiovisual materials. Won't it be a lovely surprise when your
Master gets his first shipment of Club-produced videos? The package will be
accompanied, of course, with an order form that includes the Website URL where
the general public can see snippets of our products?" Another pause for
dramatic effect. "My dear, we are going to make you a star." Owner's words
tormented me far more than the physical use had.

As if on cue, the door opened and film equipment appeared around the great open
area to the left of the building. Lights were set up, wires were run, and the
building was magically transformed into a small sound stage, complete with four
very impressive commercial-grade cameras.

Four Owners carried in a large transparent strange piece that looked like
plexiglas. They suspended it with wire hung from the ceiling, so that it
swayed. The platform was hung at an angle to the ground, not parallel with it,
so that the lower end hung about 2 feet from the ground. The upper edge was
about 4 feet above the ground.

Two small circles were cut out of the plexiglas about a foot from the upper
edge, and i remember thinking that small breasts might possibly fit through
those. The inner edges of the circles were trimmed in some kind of protective
material, rubber maybe. Leather straps were positioned around it, and it became
evident that this platform would be used to support me in my next task.

The room was engulfed in light reminiscent of daylight at noon, and the first
of the cameras began recording the event.

Owner ordered me to mount the platform face down, so that my cunt rested just
at the edge of the platform. They told me to spread my legs and bend my knees,
so that i imagined myself looking a bit like a frog. They fastened leather
restraints around my legs just above my knees, attached the restraints to the
upper edge of the platform and pulled them tight, so that gravity would make
sure my cunt and ass would stay incredibly widely exposed and open.

My waist was restrained with yet another leather strap, and my arms were pulled
up behind me, strapped and locked to the waist strap. They locked a leather
restraint around my forehead and under my chin, tilted my head far back, and
held my head in place by skewering my throat with a cock-shaped attachment that
they affixed to the platform. It fit as long as i held my head tilted back; if
i moved my head, it cut off my breathing and gagged me unmercifully.

Rough fingers reached through the underside of the cut-out holes, fondled my
breasts and pulled them through the small holes in the plexiglas. It was twice
as intense as any breast bondage that i'd endured, and my breasts were soon
throbbing and turning a deep pinkish hue.

The technicians finished setting up their equipment, and monitors soon captured
all four camera angles. One camera was trained on my face. Another was a low
shot, aimed directly at my cunt, which glistened moist and red in the intense
light. One trained on my bulging and discolored breasts. The final camera angle
was a wider shot, designed to capture all of the action. And it seemed they
took care to position the monitors where i could see every element of my use.

"Two entries on your Master's application were of particular interest to us.
One was your propensity for breast play, and the other was your very recent
transformation into a bit of an assfuck afficionado. We are quite pleased at
both of these, and we are looking forward to helping you enjoy these
activities. Of course, your Master expressed his desire that anal use be
reserved for him. Unfortunately, not all one's wishes can be fulfilled now, can
they?"

"In the interests of time, let's combine these two activities. Position her and
set up the Missle, please." The plexiglas platform moved to hold me nearly
vertical, and i felt the straps strain as they held me against the pull of
gravity.

An Owner moved from out of the shadows and held a intricately modeled 9" cock
in his hand. He took a tube of KY Jelly, unscrewed the end of the device, and
emptied the KY into it. He repeated the movement with a tube of BenGay.

A stand was brought from the sidelines, and the dildo/plug was affixed to the
top of it. "Quite an invention, this Missle. Part of the secret is in the
stand. A very elegant piston design allows for a device to be thrust at any
speed into the orifice of choice. The plug itself has a control that allows us
to expand the girth from an inch and a half all the way to four inches. Because
the probe is designed much like a penis, with a hole at the end, it becomes
self-lubricating with the addition of a product like KY Jelly, or even a
product designed to elicit a more intense sensation. A lady can quite literally
be fucked for hours, pleasurably or very painfully. We have chosen for you to
receive both sensations, chattel. No need to thank us. It's our pleasure." His
sardonic smile made me writhe and whimper behind the huge gag.

The camera focused on my clit moved slightly to refocus on my exposed and
nearly-virgin ass hole. Fingers pulled my ass cheeks apart, and i felt the tip
of the Missle press against my tightly closed rosebud. The sound of a switch,
and i felt the pumping against my ass. My anal training was triggered, and the
fucking device began its excruciating penetration. The Owners stood close by,
silent, watching it disappear, a quarter inch at a time. Mesmerized, i watched
in the monitor as i was being ass fucked by a machine.

If i could have moved, i would have pressed myself onto the monster, so hungry
i was to be filled. But all i could do is passively wait for it to be buried
inside my body. Wait, and moan, and beg with my eyes for .... for what? i
didn't even know.

"Patience, property. It won't always be using you so gently. You'll get the
fucking you want. And I'll wager, a bit more. And you will be sure to let us
know when you feel a bit warmer there, won't you? I trust you will cooperate
for the camera, and show us a bit of emotion." i was beginning to hate his
soliloquies... his Misterogers-like pace and tone was in direct conflict with
his sadistic nature.

"Shall we turn our attention to her beautiful breasts, Gentlemen? Didn't you
just love how she boasted that she could pull semi's with those nipples? But
it's a bit sad that she feels her nipples would be better if they were always
erect. Perhaps we can assist in some way." He saw my quizzical expression and,
by way of explanation, continued. "Chat rooms are such a valuable source of
information, we've found. And you, dear property, are quite the entertainer,
aren't you?" i'd always suspected that my mouthy online commentary might come
back to haunt me. i'd just never thought it would be under these circumstances.

"We've done some fascinating research into physical reactions, you know. We are
fortunate to have a number of physicians and a couple of scientists in our
group. With some experimentation, they've discovered that by concentrating on
only one area of the body, asymmetrically, a person has a bit of a struggle
processing the sensation. Naturally, we use that information to our advantage."

i felt the clamp claiming my tender and aching right nipple. i turned my
attention to the monitor, and saw that it was a cuff-like shape, about a half
and inch length, that was affixed around my flesh between the nipple and the
areola. It created a perfectly formed erect nipple. The adjusting screw was
tightened until i thought i might faint, and then one more turn on the dial to
tighten it yet more. Fingers parted my cunt, pulling my clit hood back, and i
felt another clamp being fastened to my swollen and throbbing clit. Chains
linked the two clamps together, and weights were added to hang from the chain.
Even the most subtle motion of the platform sent blinding pain coursing through
my breast and throughout my body.

The thrusting Missle continued fucking, faster now, moving deep inside, and
then pulling nearly out to thrust yet again. The clamps vibrated gently with
the rhythm of the fucking, and i was engulfed in sensation beyond any reality
i'd experienced. My mind swirled and consciousness evaporated into a blessed
vacuum. Cameras captured the beads of sweat that glistened over my captured
body, and microphones recorded every muffled moan and whimper that bubbled from
my suffocatingly full throat.

Teeth on my left nipple robbed me of my endorphin reverie, and i jolted back to
consciousness just in time to see the first tiny needle being pressed into my
left areola. i focused on the monitor and on the missle, which had imbedded
itself fully in my ass and had begun to expand even as it continued its
dispassionate mechanical fucking. A second needle, a fifth, a tenth, formed a
glimmering starburst around my taut and tortured nipple.

A single Owner moved in front of me, brandishing a single tail whip. "Let's see
if we can encourage that nipple to stay perky." He took a couple of warm- up
practice swings, cracking the single tail at my right ear and dancing it twice
immediately before my eyes. i could see he was skilled, which reassured me of
my safety. The first sting landed directly on the tip of my left needle-pointed
nipple. Another. Another. Every one exactingly applied on exactly the same
milimeter of flesh, every one exactingly applied with a force just milimeters
beyond what i could tolerate. Another. Again. i felt pressure building in my
tormented clit, and i knew the next strike would send me past the point of
control. He stopped, somehow reading my thoughts, and walked toward me. His
fingertips brushed the exposed ends of the needles, sending yet another
engulfing rush throughout my body, now mad with need for release.

A single fingertip flicked the clamped right nipple and sent new waves of pain
through my breast and, transmitted by the chain, into my clit. For Master, i
chanted silently. For Master. i love you Master. For Master. The clamp was
ripped from my nipple and i heard the words i had been longing to hear. "Come,
chattel."

i came. And came. And came as i had never come before. Blinding colors of
orgasm. i imagined my Master's voice in the reverie, drawn somewhere from deep
in my mind. i lost myself in my love for my Master, and for being allowed to
serve him. i silently screamed as the ever-expanding missle reamed me. The pain
had become a searing heat, burning me from inside, and the monitor witnessed
the wide-eyed terror that came with the realization that the missle was spewing
BenGay inside me.

My eyes closed, my head lolled back, and the world went black.

When i came to, the platform was level to the ground, the clamps and needles
had disappeared, and the missle was gone, leaving a gaping emptiness in my ass.
Fingers were kneading and massaging my breasts, and someone was cleaning me
with a warm towel. A discarded Bardex and filled bucket provided silent
testimony to a ministration that, gratefully, i was spared from experiencing.

"You have done very well, chattel. Very well indeed. We have but one more
activity planned for the evening. One of the responses on your Master's
application concerned a desire you had, but for which he had no desire to
fulfill. In fact, he was quite adamant about never allowing you to be so used.
We tend to relish such bits of information of course, and use every opportunity
to help such "reluctant" Masters fulfill their slave's wishes. Prepare her."

In a fleeting moment of rational thought, i realized that dawn was creeping
into the room through cracks in the door. i had endured their initiation, their
12 hours of ownership. i knew that soon i would be returned to the other
reality, where i functioned and pretended to be something more than three holes
for amusement. But they were not quite done with me yet.

i wasn't ready for the cutting. i watched it in the monitor, hypnotized and
floating in that blessed conscious unconsciousness that swaddles me when the
pain and anguish overtake me. i saw the scalpel shred my skin. i saw the skin
part, with droplets of blood forming where the scalpel had trailed. On my mons,
just above my clit. The mark of the Club, of their possession of me. Permanent.
A small "c." chattel. Club chattel. Master's cunt and Club chattel.

As just as quickly as it had started, it was over. The electricians and sound
men packed up their equipment and members of the Club even as i was led to
another cold shower and again air dried by the fan. i knelt, the Owners formed
a circle around me, and finished my bath with a self-induced cum shower which
again glazed my breasts, stomach, and ass. They waited patiently as the cum
dried, watched me don a simple black sheath dress that brushed softly against
my bruised and battered skin, watched as i slid the black seamed stockings up
over my thighs and slipped on the heels, and bade their adieus. Some even
kissed me and fondled me gently.

Owner dropped me off at my office door as though nothing had happened, with
just "You may tell your Master he'll be hearing from us." It was just another
morning.

i must have spoken to the guard, must have signed in, must have ridden the
elevator. Nothing registered until i went into my office and saw Trish sitting
at my computer. "Hi there," she piped up cheerily. "Great pictures!" She moved
away from the computer, waited a moment till the screensaver started, and there
i was suspended from the plexiglas platform, a human cock in my mouth, a metal
tube being pulled from my ass and my body expelling its waste, and the look of
a reveried, undeniable glorious passion on my face.

"Now about that performance review...."

Email: ClairMatin@aol.com

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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