The Enslaving of anna

Chapter 10

As Manassas became visible on the horizon, we gave the girls a reprieve from their decorative duties, letting them huddle together in the cabin to nurse their rope burns and worry about what we had next in mind for them on the island. Normally, anna is forbidden anything alcoholic as part of her regimen to keep trim and healthy. However, she had endured so much already — with more to come — that I let her join the other women in a round of cocktails. The other three are extremely attractive and before the day was over I knew I would be fucking one, two or all three of them; but anna was so much more beautiful as she scrunched in the corner of the bench hugging her knees, her face half hidden behind her golden hair, that I wanted to stretch her out and make love to her then and there. I didn't, of course. It wouldn't do to let her know she has that much of an effect on me.

Manassas is a small, elongated island protruding out of the Atlantic like the top third of a football. To stick with that analogy, it's about two and a half football fields long and one wide. A hardy profusion of pine and oak trees compete for soil on its rocky surface, yielding along most of the island's west side to a stretch of harsh sand licked clean of vegetation by the salt tides. At the height of flood tide the beach mostly disappears under the noisy surf, but we had timed our arrival for when the tide was at its lowest ebb which would give us four or five hours of useable party time on the beach.

The Titipoo is equipped with an inflatable that serves both as a life raft in case of an abandon-ship emergency and as a commuter vessel between the yacht and dry land. Two raft trips were required for the transfer of first the four girls and then the trunk, coolers, and other items Jake and I had brought along for the afternoon's play. To make sure the girls didn't run off between trips, but mostly because it was a turn-on, we handcuffed them to each other in a circle facing outward. Any attempt to hide, aside from being futile, would have been entertaining to watch, but they merely meandered a bit, giggling, to indulge their curiosity. From where the boat was anchored off shore, they looked like a drunken pink spider groping its way gingerly over the pebbly sand.

Once everything we needed for the party was on the beach, including a firepot and charcoal to cook our hot dogs, I removed one pair of handcuffs from the quartet of girls so they could switch to an inward facing arc. Their assignment was to set up the firepot, fill it with charcoal and prepare our lunch. All while still cuffed together. Clearly, this would require a superlatively cooperative effort; predictably, they were soon bickering amongst themselves over what to do first and who would do it and how. At Jake's suggestion we cured that noise and made their task the more challenging by forcing ball gags into their mouths and strapping them tightly into place. To give them incentive, we each selected an appropriately encouraging device from the trunk. Eric, the most kind-hearted of our group, chose the flogger. Jonathan, whose huge six foot five frame made him the scariest of disciplinarians, selected a leather belt. Jake decided on the dreaded cane and I picked up the singletail. I love to dole out punishment with any of these instruments, but the sound of the whip ripping through the air on the way to its target is especially terrifying, and the crack of its landing always evokes a satisfying response. The cane delivers a brutal, blossoming pain that submissives truly and rightly fear, but the whip can be used safely over more of the body and its bite is instant. The girls were soon working hard at trying to function as a team, jerking at each other's wrists, shouting incoherently through their gags, crying and whimpering as blows landed on their bare bottoms, backs and thighs. Their chins and breasts were wet with drool and Kelly's cheeks were streaked with mascara from her weeping. She was Jake's favorite target for the cane. As the tallest of the four women, she had assumed a leadership role, but her bossiness had only inspired resentment and resistance. Now, with six purple and red welts swelling angrily on her ass and tears dripping off her chin, she had given up all attempts to control the little chain gang.

While all this was going on, the yawl finally caught up with us and dropped anchor a hundred feet farther out than the Titipoo , no doubt in deference to its keel. Its horny crew of three wasted no time rowing themselves to shore in a dingy to join our festivities. They managed to pry their eyes away from the scurrying chain of nude women long enough to introduce themselves to the men. They identified themselves as Mark, Lance and Russ, third year students from Boston University out for a Sunday sail on Mark's boat. Or rather, his father's boat. In their wildest dreams they had never imagined stumbling across their present good fortune! When we explained that this was a bdsm outing and that the four females in our group were slaves and submissives who did not rate inclusion in the introductions, they instantly accepted the spirit of the thing. When we further pointed out that their sole function on this occasion was to provide pleasure to the males in whatever ways we demanded, you could almost hear the hormones rushing through their blood. They didn't need to be summa cum laude to figure out the full implications of their luck.

The seven men in our expanded group perched on a group of boulders at the edge of the beach while the women served us. Still handcuffed together and gagged, they had improved their ability to coordinate their movements and purpose, but nevertheless made an amusingly awkward human centipede as they brought us our beer and hot dogs. Their only rest came when they were required to kneel down before us to watch as we ate. After I had finished, finding myself in a beneficent mood, I fetched a newspaper from the trunk, spread it on the ground in front of the girls, pinned its corners with rocks and dumped the left over frankfurters and buns on it. I also emptied out the relish and mustard into two small heaps. Then I disconnected each girl from her neighbor, removed her gag and cuffed her hands behind her back.

"You may eat your lunch, now," I told them blandly.

They all looked at me balefully, but knew it was this way or starve. So they bent down and began dragging frankfurters and buns to a spot on the newspaper where they could deal with them. anna, who had the most experience eating from a bowl or off the floor with no hands, easily dragged her hot dog through the relish and mustard with her teeth and even managed to get it into a bun, pushing it into the split with her nose. By laying one cheek on the newspaper, she was able to chew her way from one end of the assembled frankfurter to the other. Jake's slave, julie, watched anna and tried to emulate her technique. She did well with the condiments but couldn't force the dog into the bun, which kept falling over and sliding around. Finally she settled for alternating bites between the hot dog and the bun. Kelly and Tori were far clumsier and ended up with their faces plastered with mustard and relish. Each used the other's cushiony breasts to rub it off.

Eric, meanwhile, found a salad bowl, poured two cans of beer in it and placed it on the sand. "If you slaves want something to drink before the games begin," he announced, "this is it. This is all the liquid refreshment there will be for you till we're back home."

By now, after sweating out their onboard decorative duties in the sun, followed by their stints as cooks and servers, the women had worked up a fierce thirst. They could not help but notice that the quantity of beer being offered was seriously insufficient for the four of them, nor was the bowl large enough for more than two heads at once. Kelly and anna were the first to climb to their feet and make a dash for it, dropping to their knees side by side and crowding their faces into the bowl. We could hear them lapping at the beer as they jostled each other for better access to the rapidly dropping supply. The side of the bowl slanted inward, cone-like, so that soon only one tongue would be able to reach the precious liquid, and only by crowding out the other. Tori and julie, meanwhile, were becoming alarmed at the prospect of being shut out and began shouting at them to be allowed a turn. When that failed, they kicked at them, then fell to their knees and used their elbows and shoulders to force their heads out of the bowl. Unfortunately, the violent movement knocked over the bowl and the remaining liquid spilled into the sand. All four girls emitted howls of anguish and Tori burst into tears, pitching forward into the sand, her dark hair hiding her face as her body shook with sobs. anna, probably feeling guilty, slithered over to her, nuzzled into the hair and whispered something in her ear. An apology, I would hope. Although inwardly I was proud that anna had the wits to assess the situation fast enough to get to the bowl first, or at least in a dead heat with the audacious Kelly.

It had all been great fun to watch, but it was time to get to the interactive entertainment. I addressed the three college boys.

"Gentlemen. Consult among each other and select one of our four lovely females to be given the role of fuck fruit."

They had no idea what that meant, but their sudden smiles and the bright gleam in their eyes indicated a willingness to find out. Mark, the tallest of the group, probably about six two, with a dirty blond crew cut and lanky body, took the initiative and pointed to Kelly. Apparently he liked her brazen blond beauty. "That one!"

"Very well." I unlocked her handcuffs, fished in the trunk and pulled out a collar and leash. "Put this on her and bring her over to that tree." I pointed out an oak with a thick branch reaching out toward the sun of the open beach. "Make her stay on her hands and knees and follow you like a dog." I found a riding crop and handed it to him. "If she dawdles, or if she displeases you in any way, use this."

He caught on quickly, demanding she hurry over the painfully sharp pebbles in the course sand, stinging her rump with the crop to speed her progress. With help from Mark and his friends, we soon had Kelly's wrists bound to her ankles and tied to a rope thrown over the limb of the oak. With a groan she felt herself hoisted into the air, suspended like a flesh-colored pear about three feet off the ground, her sex available to anyone hard enough to mount an invasion. Without question Mark was hard enough, but I suggested he warm her up first with the crop while I fetched a condom. By the time I arrived back with the condom and anna in tow, Kelly was begging through her tears for the whipping to stop. anna removed Mark's shorts with efficiency and deftly smoothed the condom onto his penis with her mouth. In another moment both he and Kelly were moaning with the powerful thrusts of his youthful manhood. I could see the creamy color of her juices flowing around his root even before his own orgasm.

I left Mark to play with Kelly and returned to the beach to set up another amusement. I noticed Eric was pushing off in the raft and Jake explained that he'd come up with an idea requiring a deck chair from the yacht. Enlisting the aid of Mark's two horny friends, Lance and Russ (but mostly to keep them from spending themselves too soon with the already available Kelly), I fished a set of 2-inch steel pipes from the trunk and we bolted them together into a 6x4 foot rectangle which we lay down on the sand. I handed Lance the collar and leash that had recently adorned Kelly and he selected Tori as its next recipient. She was led on hands and knees to our construction site and I instructed the boys to spreadeagle her on her back inside the rectangle and hold her while I tied her wrists and ankles to the corners. Lance, with first dibs on our prey, fairly trembled with enthusiasm. Tori, increasingly aware of her thirst, kept swallowing and licking her lips. When we picked up the steel framework and began carrying her stretched body toward the sea, her eyes filled with fear and she stopped licking.

"What are you going to do?" she cried.

"You want water?" I said in my most logical tone. "We're going to give you access to water, although I wouldn't advise drinking it."

"No, wait!" she screeched in alarm.

"Tori, Tori," I soothed. "You don't want to be gagged, do you?"

That shut her up, but she was now fighting the ropes, her body wriggling most enticingly. On my instructions we carried the frame and it's helpless passenger to the edge of the surf and put them down on the wet sand with Tori's feet toward the ocean. We waited for the next wave to roll in and positioned her so that the water level at its deepest came up to the level of her mouth. With the tide coming in, she would soon have to raise her head to keep above water. And then it would get worse. She looked up at me, eyes filled with dread, imploring mercy.

"Don't worry, little slave," I said. "Lance here will keep an eye on you. Just don't let him get bored and wander off." I winked at Lance and handed him a condom. "You may want to play with her while you're here," I suggested. "She seems to be amenable to your attentions. Feel free. In fact, I suspect that in another fifteen or twenty minutes she'll be willing to do absolutely anything to get out of her current predicament. So pace yourself. Understand?"

"Oh yeah," he said, his voice bristling with young lust. He was a little shorter than I am, maybe five eight, with a stocky, muscular body covered with blond fur and topped by a baby face and swirls of bright yellow hair. He took off his shorts and tossed them just out of reach of the inbound waves, revealing impressive equipment already fully engorged.

Eric had arrived back in the raft with a deck chair. He went over to admire his wife's quandary. As the next wave rolled in over her face and slipped back, she was left sputtering, spitting and thrashing uselessly against the ropes. Her big brown lamb's eyes failed to elicit mercy from her husband, however. He nodded his approval, made sure Lance had a condom and returned to discuss the purpose of the chair. (We did, of course, keep a close eye on Tori. Terror was a deliberate element in her ordeal, but she was in no real danger of drowning.)

We let Russ choose the victim for the chair project. His dark chocolate skin and shaved head were about as much of a contrast with his two BU buddies as could be imagined. He was already naked and his bull-sized cock was dripping saliva from the two remaining subs, julie and anna, who had been servicing him alternately from their kneeling position next to the trunk. He tapped julie on the head and ordered her to approach the chair doggie style as the others had done, not bothering with the collar and leash, but whipping her bottom with the riding crop to lessen her concern with pain from the sharp pebbles on the beach. Russ, it seemed, caught on quickly to the art of dealing with slaves.

julie was placed in the chair and told to fold her hands. They were then taped together so that she could not unlock her fingers. Her hands were raised over her head and placed behind her neck where they were bound into place with many windings of rope around her wrists and throat. Her body was pulled forward so that her ass was at the edge of the seat and secured in that position by ropes around her shoulders and upper thighs, binding her to the chair. Ropes were tied from her ankles to stakes driven into the sand about six feet apart. Another stake was driven into the ground behind her and a third rope tied her hair to it. The chair was then tilted back on its rear legs and the ropes to her ankles and hair adjusted to keep it balanced there, her body arched, her feet pulled wide apart, her sex opened for display and elevated for easy entrance. Every movement that destabilized the precarious balance of body and chair yanked at her hair, provoking little yelps of pain. It was a stimulating sight and Russ, already superheated from the oral attentions, pulled on a condom, moved between her legs, seized her by the waist and plugged right in.

Lance had also given way to the demands of his genitals and was thrusting away at the inundated Tori, apparently impervious to the cold surf breaking over them and unconcerned that his partner's head was now under the foaming seawater fifteen or twenty seconds at a time. When he finally climaxed noisily, sighed and rolled off, Eric and I decided it was time to rescue the sputtering, terrified girl.

The pathetic look of gratitude on her face as we lifted her, frame and all, out of the next incoming breaker was almost heart-rending. But although she was no longer in fear of drowning, her ordeal was hardly over. With Lance and Eric holding the frame vertical so that she was standing on the bottom pipe, I untied her wrists from the upper corners, drew her arms behind her back and bound her forearms together so that she was clutching her elbows. Next I looped ropes around her knees and the sides of the frame, drawing her knees outward, spreading her wide until she cringed from the stress on her hips. Securing her in that position, I ran a long rope around her body and upper arms, above and below her breasts, tying it off tightly to each side rail. Another rope was forced through her mouth and around her head several times, then tied off at the side rails, doubling as a head restraint and a gag. The frame was laid backwards onto the sand and stakes driven in above the top rail to keep it from sliding as we lifted the bottom rail and propped it up with a pole. Our exotic little beauty, her brown skin still sparkling with seawater, squirmed enticingly as she struggled to find a tolerable position within her web of ropes. The effect was extremely erotic; thighs splayed apart and body angled upward, her glistening sex was wide open, irresistibly inviting and at a perfect level for entertaining male visitors. Jonathan, eagerly accepting the invitation, had ducked under the frame and was rising like a serpent between her legs as Eric and I moved on to the next project.

Prior to our attendance on Tori, I had handed anna a post-hole digger and ordered her to dig a hole a foot deeper than the length of the handle, a total of about six feet. She was now sweating through the last few feet of her assignment. To inspire her to finish the task with greater alacrity, I fetched the singletail and whipped her with it every seven seconds, helpfully counting down the seconds between blows so she could keep track of her progress. She finished with remarkable speed and only four new red tracks on her back and ass.

As she dug, Jake, at the far end of the beach, had been assembling some four-by-four timbers we had transferred earlier from the boat. A six foot long section, notched in the center, had been fitted into a matching notch about a foot from the top of a sixteen foot section and bolted in place, forming a crucifix. anna, fitted with the collar and leash, now was led the entire length of the beach, crawling on her hands and knees, to where the crucifix awaited her. I didn't hurry her with the crop because I knew the trip back would be much worse for her. When she had reached the cross, Eric and I each took one of her hands, stretched her out and lashed her wrists and upper arms to the crossbar. She knew what would come next. A parody of the biblical scene. She had to drag the heavy wooden cross back to the hole she had dug, only she had to do it on her knees. It took a long time. All seven men were drawn to the spectacle, urging her on with perverse cheers — "C'mon, bitch!" "Move it, slut!" I let them whack her ass a bit with the riding crop and cane, but kept them from overdoing it because she was obviously close to collapse, her knees bloody, her lips trembling, tears leaking from her eyes.

When she had reached her destination, Jake, Mark and I raised the crucifix up and dropped the base into the hole. Jake and Mark held it steady while Lance returned the displaced sand into the hole and tamped it down tightly around the timber with the end of the hole-digger handle. As he worked, I tied a length of rope around anna's left ankle, looped it behind the post and tied the other end to her right ankle. While she couldn't kick out, she could work her feet against the post, which I knew she'd soon be doing. We stood back and admired our handiwork. anna looked relieved to be off her knees which were still trickling blood, but that wouldn't last. The ropes biting into her arms and wrists from the weight of her body would soon create a new focus of pain. Indeed, even as we watched, she began pressing her feet against the outside of the post, trying to push herself up and relieve the strain. She gave herself slight temporary reprieves, but had to spread out her knees to do it, which exposed her pussy nicely. I ran a finger inside the inner labia and noted with satisfaction that this new ordeal with its rapt audience was making her wet.

anna's feet were at about the level of my chest. That left about four feet of usable post below her. No use wasting it. I asked our college friends to take Kelly down — she was still hanging from the tree — and bring her over. Her hands and feet were numb; she could barely walk and had to be helped. Russ and Lance helped support her with one hand and helped themselves to her breasts with the other. She stood docilely in front of the cross as I lashed her right ankle to the base of the cross, spread her legs and staked her left ankle to the sand. Next, I bound her wrists behind her back, looped the rope around her neck and drew her hands up as far as they would go. Then came the worst part. I bent her over almost double so her ears were at the level of her knees and tied her head to the post with several windings of rope that passed through her mouth, much as I had done with Tori. She began groaning immediately. It was an excruciating position, but it presented her ass in the most tempting fashion. In fact, I couldn't resist it. I kicked off my shorts, spit some lubricating saliva into her rosy anus and started pushing my cock deeper and deeper into its warm interior. At the same time, since anna's pretty feet were next to my face, I began sucking on her toes. I would have liked to stretch out that scene for hours, but the tightness of Kelly's back entrance and the sweet succulence of anna's toes was too much for me. Too soon I exploded into Kelly's bowels and my electrified senses drifted back to normal.

With julie spread invitingly wide over her chair, Tori equally appealing and accessible in her frame, and Kelly's ass too delectable to pass up, all seven men had soon added at least one more round of poon to their afternoon's scorecard. Some had already indulged their manhood three times, while Russ, our champion whoremaster so far, had managed four. At this point only one of our four females had not yet had her pussy put into service. That would have to be corrected. I consulted with Jake and we decided on a course of action that would give anna her due.

The other three girls were released from their restraints and given permission to roam around the beach area so they could recover from their ordeals and regain the full use of their limbs. The cross from which anna hung was uprooted and laid flat on the sand with anna on top. I removed the rope holding her feet to the post, bent her knees, spread her legs and bound her ankles to stakes driven into the sand. her labia were red and sensitive from the abuse the boys had given her cunt, slapping at it with the crop and the flogger as she hung on the crucifix. We ordered Tori and julie to approach and assume the kneel-up position. Neither girl had yet been allowed to slake her thirst and Tori appeared close to serious dehydration, so we made them an offer they couldn't refuse. If Tori could make anna cum, she could have water. If julie could arouse one of the men back to potency and get him to fuck anna until she came, julie would also be given water. The desperate girls set to work at once.

Tori began by positioning her body over anna's, on her hands and knees, and gently swaying from side to side to let their lips, nipples and bellies lightly brush each other. Then she let her tongue caress anna's lips. Backing slowly downward, she let her tongue trace spiraling circles over anna's chin, down her throat and over to one breast, then the other. She paused at each breast to suckle the nipple, hardening it with her lips and teeth. Then she worked her way down over anna's belly, around and through her navel, all the way to that pink canyon of flesh which had already begun to excrete its sweet juices, the hips twitching slightly in the spasms of erotic response.

julie, meanwhile, had been wandering among the men, all of them now intent on the show taking place before them. her hand caressed each crotch until she felt a stirring in one. It was Mark. she took his hand, closed her eyes, and placed it on her own sex as she continued to rub his, feeling it grow within her palm. she felt his hand make contact with her belly and move down to her shaven delta. A finger slipped into her as Mark's breathing became deeper and his cock stiffened to full readiness. she placed her free hand over his, holding it firmly to her mound of Venus while she closed the fingers of her other hand around his bulging genitals and tugged him gently forward toward the two girls on the cross.

"Poor anna needs to be fucked," she whispered while continuing the massage, taking care not to overdo it. "Please, help her. she wants it so badly. She hasn't had any today at all. If you give her a good orgasm, I'll do anything you want me to. Anything!"

"Hows about I fuck you, instead?" he offered.

She felt him starting to turn toward her. "No, no, Mark!" She released his cock and pressed both hands against his chest. "my Master wouldn't allow it," she lied. "You've already fucked me. But anna really wants it and Master ordered me to find a man who can make her cum. Please! Later you can do what ever you want with me, but right now please use this wonderful tool on anna." She squeezed the tool in question to make sure he got the point and deftly rolled a condom over it. "Look at her! She's so wet, and so in need of a man! Besides, it makes me hot to watch! Just make her cum. Then you can do me."

Mark did some instant calculations. A glance at the shrinking stretch of rocky sand told him they had at least a half hour before the incoming tide forced them off the beach. His nineteen year old apparatus was now fully recharged, and despite his three earlier orgasms, he figured there was a good chance he could recover fast enough after anna to pleasure himself with this other beauty as well. Alternately, with his sexual edge already well dulled, he might have enough staying power to make the first slut cum, then switch to the other for his own finish. Wasting no more time, he shoved Tori's diminutive body aside, straddled the wooden beam and entered anna. Within half a minute of his furious pounding her small cries of pleasure had escalated to a continuing wail of intense pleasure. Soon, her head snapped back against the beam, her eyes glazed over and her body convulsed in the unmistakable seizures of sexual ecstacy. Mark felt the increased lubrication of her juices and immediately pulled out, grabbed julie, threw her down on top of anna's still writhing body and took her as well. He lasted a good three minutes, alternating between the two females, one stacked over the other. julie came, anna came, and finally julie came again just as Mark filled his fourth and final condom. For good measure he slipped it off and drizzled its contents over their faces, then used his cock to massage it in like a face creme. This young man was really catching on. One day he'll make a fine Master for some lucky submissive.

 

anna's journal, August 31

Wow! Yesterday was amazing! Master took me on a boat trip to Manassas Island along with three other Dom/sub couples from the Iron Collar Club — Master Jacob Lorenz and his slave julie, Dr. Jonathan Howells and his wife Kelly, and Eric Decker with his wife Tori. All three of the women are well trained and well behaved submissives, but julie is the only one with an actual slave contract. her contract isn't at all like mine, though. It has certain limitations as to what Master Jacob can do to her and they renegotiate it every two years. i would hate that! It wouldn't be at all the same knowing that i could wriggle out of total obedience to Master just because i didn't like some of his demands, or I couldn't stand the pain of his punishments. What kind of slavery would that be?

i love julie, she's a sweetie, but as far as i'm concerned, Masters and slaves should not be married. The two conditions aren't at all compatible. Wives have rights; a slave has no rights. Or shouldn't have. When i gave myself to my Master, it wasn't a lease, it was a gift, free and clear, no strings. There was no "until" or "except for" or "other than." No escape clause. He owns me. Period. i cannot express in words the exhilarating pleasure it gives me to submit to His whims, no matter how humiliating or disgusting or painful! He can make me laugh, scream, cum, beg for mercy, it doesn't matter. However he decides to use me, i love Him for it. In fact, it's only when i'm screaming and the tears are flowing, or when i pass out from unbearable pain, that i can truly demonstrate the bottomless depth of my devotion to Him. Then when He makes love to me, all the memory of the pain i have endured for Him becomes a spinning cloud of cotton candy bliss. i want to drown myself in His love. i want Him to make me suffer more, to grant me another opportunity to offer up my body as a sacrifice to my Beloved.

i'm so glad i'm not married to Him. Everywhere i go i see all these married women with their long faces. Their resigned expressions reflect the boredom of the monogamy they think is so important. Thank God my good Master rescued me from such a fate. If i were Mrs. Fortune, i'd expect my fair share of the decision making. Since my tastes are very different from His in a lot of things — clothing, furniture, food, TV, music, movies, you name it — it would often come down to who gets their way. i've seen enough examples of marital bickering and the misery and heartache it can lead to that i want nothing to do with it. But none of that will happen because i'm not the doctor's wife, i'm the Doctor's property. He never consults me on any decisions at all. i might say, "If it pleases you, Sir, i'd like to watch Jeopardy this evening." To which He might nod His head in approval. Or He might shake His head and say, "No!" leaving me to sit on the floor and watch what He wants to watch. Or, if i've been really good and He's feeling generous, He might let me stand in the kitchen and watch my choice of show on the kitchen TV. The point is, there's never an argument. Ours is not a "partnership." The fair share in decision making is Master 100%, slave 0%.

Then there's the sex. Like i said, i pity all those wives who think that monogamy is essential to their happiness, who feel all devastated and betrayed if their husbands fuck other women, and who deprive themselves of abundance and variety in their own sex lives. They're convinced that sexual exclusivity is the same as "faithful," and "virtuous." Thank God my Master saved me from that ridiculous concept. For me "faithfulness" and "virtue" is obeying and pleasing Master. It pleases Master to fuck whomever He chooses, sometimes with me in attendance. His pleasure is all that counts. Moreover, since it pleases Him to give me to others, i also have a wonderfully rich sex life without ever feeling guilty. As a good slave, i'm an outrageous slut and i love every minute of it!

Yesterday's cruise was a perfect example. He started by dressing me in one of his favorite types of costumes: a sundress with spaghetti straps and a large green and red floral print, the kind of thing a seven or eight year old girl would wear. The hemline didn't even make it halfway down my thighs. With no underwear on, it was inevitable that in the gusty winds on the waterfront it would keep blowing up and revealing my southern exposure to anyone who happened to be watching. i kept a straight face as though i hadn't noticed their double-takes. It was wonderfully risque and would have been perfect, except that Master insisted i go barefoot. The pebbles on the hot tarmac made the trip between the car and the wharf a rather painful journey, but i made no effort to hide my grimaces because Master likes to see my honest reactions.

i also realized He would have far more painful ordeals in store for me during the trip, and He certainly did. First He stripped me naked and tied me up in the cockpit where anybody could see me. This was in the harbor in Marblehead and i guess He wasn't worried about His reputation because no one knows Him there. Once we were beyond the close confines of the harbor, He suspended me over the side of the boat in a rope harness and left me dangling there during the entire trip to the island. At first it wasn't too bad. i was swinging freely, belly down, supported by ropes around my legs, chest and arms. But oh my God! As time went along it became extremely painful! Master had used those nasty brown ropes that burn into the skin. When i complained, He stuffed my mouth with somebody's panties (i don't know who, but she must have done a bit of early entertaining because i could taste her poon tang). Then He ran a rope between the gag and my feet, pulling my head back. Long before the trip to the island ended i was crying so much i couldn't see anything, and in so much pain i lost track of whatever else was going on.

Apparently one of the things that was going on was that we had picked up a trio of college boys who had shadowed us in their own boat and liked what they saw. Master and His friends invited them to join us on the island.

Before we disembarked, though, the other girls and me were allowed to have a cocktail. This is a rare treat for me because normally Master does not allow me to have any alcohol at all. In fact, he barely allows me to eat because He wants to keep me slim and trim for his pleasure. i have to eat his left over vegetables and fruit and all that nutritious shit. If i complain he canes me, so i don't complain.

Anyway, as soon as we hit the beach the four of us subs were handcuffed in a square facing outward. Kelly was cuffed to my right wrist, Tori to my left and julie was behind me. While the guys went back to the boat for the provisions and a trunk full of torture stuff, we tried to check out the beach a little. It was a riot trying to get organized. Kelly, Dr. Howell's wife, was the tallest and bossiest so she took over, told us where we were going and how to get there. Of course, it always worked out that she was walking forward while julie and i were moving crabwise and poor little Tori had to walk backwards. Tori is Mr. Decker's wife. She's a cute little thing, dark and gentle. Part Tai, i think. She was trembling a little, so i held her hand. She's very submissive, but she scares easily.

Pretty soon the men were back, along with the college boys from the other boat whom they didn't bother to introduce to us. That's all right. We would get to "know" them real well before long. The guys set up a fire pot for the hot dogs and did the male thing: lighting the fire. After that it was up to the women to prepare the meal.

Master Daniel took off the handcuffs between julie and Tori which made it a little easier to work as a group. This put Tori on the left end, then me, Kelly and julie. Kelly was still trying to run the show, which was fine by me, but julie was starting to get pissed. Our Masters stopped the squabbling by selecting disciplinary devices from the trunk and using them on us until we began cooperating with each other. They used a flogger, a belt a whip and a cane. Kelly got the worst of it, and well she should. By the time we finally were able to serve the men, her ass was covered with welts from that damned cane. i have to give her credit: i would have been awash in tears at the kind of caning she got, but she just cringed with each blow and shook it off.

She was also the first one to be hogtied. They made her what they called "fuck fruit." They bound her feet and hands together and hung her from a tree limb where they played with her. They swung her around, paddling her like a tether ball. Then they stuffed her with dildos and vegetables and took turns whipping and fucking her.

Poor Tori was next. They spreadeagled her to a frame made of pipes and plopped her down where the incoming surf kept washing over her, deeper and deeper, while one of the college boys fondled and fucked her. i was really afraid she was going to drown. In fact, i was so upset about it i had started to bawl. But Master and Mr. Decker went out and lifted her out of the rising tide and carried her safely to the beach. Master came over to me afterwards and shook his head at me, as if to say, "Why did you doubt me?" i was so relieved and ashamed of myself that i kissed His feet, wiping my tears on his shins. He laughed and kissed the top of my head.

They left me alone for a long time, tying julie to a chair and propping up Tori in her frame so that all the guys could fuck them at their leisure. My duty was to provide fellatio to whoever wanted it. Finally it was my turn. Master made me dig a deep post-hole, then put a collar and leash on me and made me crawl on my hands and knees to the far end of the beach where the men had constructed a crucifix out of four-by-fours. They bound my arms to the crossbar and made me drag the damned thing all the way back to the hole, and they made me do it on my knees! That beach is just sharp rocks and pebbles and walking on it in bare feet is unpleasant enough. But on my knees — which were already sore from the first trip — and with the added weight of that cross. . . my God! Was that painful! It cut my knees all up! When they finally erected the cross and "crucified" me, i could see blood running down my shins.

Hanging there on the cross wasn't too bad at first, but the ropes were soon cutting into my arms brutally. By squeezing my feet against the four-by-four upright and pushing up, i was able to relieve the pressure for brief intervals, but my trembling leg muscles would soon give out and i'd drop back to hanging from my arms again. Furthermore, to squeeze my feet against opposite sides of the post, i had to bend my knees and spread open my legs, leaving my cunt wide open, a target the men could hardly be expected to resist! They happily added to my torment by caning it and whipping it with a belt. In a way, though, the pain there was a welcome distraction from the relentless torture of the ropes.

One of the other girls was lashed to the post just under my feet, but i was in way too much misery to care who. She was bent over with her butt in the air, ready for fucking. my Master was the first one to take advantage of it, which i only noticed because He sucked on my toes as He fucked her. What a sweet contrast that was! My Master sucking my toes against the pain of the ropes. It seemed forever before the cross was finally uprooted and laid flat on the ground with me on top.

i was so relieved at that point that i didn't even care who had climbed on top of me and was licking my mouth. It wasn't until i felt the tongue work its way down to my breasts that i opened my eyes and saw it was Tori. She sucked on my tits so gently and thrillingly that it swept away the memory of my recent agony. As she kissed and licked her way down to my clit, i let myself yield to those wonderful sensations that sweep through your body and blot out all rational thoughts. Master gave me permission to cum and i had barely done so when one of the college boys replaced Tori and was immediately inside me pumping vigorously. i was over the top again in no time and moaning with pleasure when he pulled out and pulled julie on top of me. i was still stretched out on that hard four-inch-wide beam and her added weight made me suddenly aware of how much it hurt, especially when he began plowing her, her body motion grinding my back against the narrow beam. Then he would switch and would be back inside me, stirring up those sex chills all over again. It was amazing! i think i came two or three more times, and julie too. Afterwards he emptied his condom all over my face and julie's and rubbed it in with his penis. Some of it got into my eyes. Wow, did that sting!

Later i found out Tori and julie had earned some desperately needed water by making me and the boy cum. Glad i could help out.

By the time the tide had swallowed up most of the beach and was threatening to push us into the woods, the men had pretty much exhausted themselves sexually and decided it was time to call it a day. But they had one last test for their four subs. Each of us had a butt plug inserted in her anus and we were ordered not to allow it to fall out, nor could we touch it. The first girl to lose her plug would get the harshest punishment, the cane. The second would be whipped. The third belted. The last one (the winner?) would merely be spanked. This would be while we were also packing up all our stuff and putting it in the raft for return to the boat. We would, of course, be required to thank those who delivered the punishments for each and every blow.

Keeping a butt plug in your glory hole with just your sphincter muscle while you're moving around is simply impossible. It was just a matter of who could keep it in longer and earn the lightest punishment. To help us resist the temptation to cheat, our hands were cuffed in front of us. Naturally, this also made it harder to do our work. More fun for the audience, though, especially since these were the types of plugs that had long, colorful pony tails attached that switched about as we walked.

Tori was the first to lose her butt plug. She strained mightily to keep it in, scrunching up her face and tightening her ass cheeks. But out it plopped. One of the college boys pinned her over his knee as he and each of the other six men delivered a single stroke with the cane. The pauses as the cane changed hands allowed time for the waves of pain from each blow to take full effect and poor little Tori was sobbing uncontrollably when the last blow landed, seven frightful purple and red welts covering her bottom and the back of her thighs. Yet she managed to blubber out a thanks to each man along the way for his contribution to her punishment.

i was next. Try as i might, i just could not squeeze my rectum tight enough to keep the damn pony tail from slipping out as i walked to the raft with a bag of trash. They made me stretch out on my belly over the top of the trunk and hang on while all seven men took their turn with the bullwhip. Since each man was allowed only one blow, he put his all into it. Thanking your torturer after receiving such a blow is incredibly difficult, but i did it! Had to. They would have kept beating me until i did. i'm afraid i was crying almost a hard as Tori by the time it was over. They let the two of us sit on the sand and comfort each other, although Tori couldn't really sit because her bottom hurt so much.

julie popped her plug just seconds after mine and had to endure seven strokes of the belt. Kelly, wouldn't you know, outlasted us all. But her punishment turned out to be more than she'd bargained for. She had to drape herself over each man's knee individually and take five hard spanks from him, a total of thirty-five. Her ass was on fire at the end of it and she had teared up, but she thanked her tormentors through clenched teeth and joined the rest of us in our miserable huddle.

Believe it or not, one of the college boys — the black guy — was so turned on by all the punishments that he was hard again! My Master immediately offered him the use of my body to relieve his tension and was kind enough to ask him to take me from behind, standing up, so the whip stripes on my back and bottom wouldn't get infected on the rough beach.

The trip back to Marblehead was almost idyllic. The subs were each allowed two beers and given soft cushions to relax on. The men even let me steer the boat for a while. At one point, though, julie had to pee badly. Master Jake, her husband and Owner, gave her the bowl we had used on the beach and instructed her to squat over it and pee in front of us. she appeared close to crying at the unexpected humiliation, but she did as she was ordered. The men leered attentively. Kelly looked like she couldn't care less. Tori looked stricken and averted her eyes. Some of the pee splashed out when the boat was jarred by a wave and Master Jake made julie lick it up off the deck. This ultra humiliation underlines the difference between a mere submissive who might have refused and a real slave who will not. It was also a powerful incentive for the rest of us to hold our bladders till we got home. Except for Kelly, of course, who smiled suggestively at the men as she peed in the bowl, although she was careful to keep any from splashing on the deck.

As the ocean slid by and i learned to accommodate the many sore places on my body, i relived in my mind the many highlights of the day — the terrors, the torments and the sex — and hoped, as i hope now, that Master was pleased with my performance and continues to find me worthy of His love. One good sign is that He let me sit on the couch with Him this evening to watch TV. He even excused me from tonight's punishments without hearing my list of infractions. Best of all, He's going to let me sleep with Him in His bed all night, even though my collar and ankle chains tend to annoy Him. i'll make an extra special effort to keep them out of His way. Sex with others is always fun, but as i've said before, when Master Daniel makes love to me, the thrill extends all the way to my soul!

Looking back, it was a fantastically erotic day, one that i'll never forget. i don't think those college boys will, either.