It had already been a full morning and it wasn’t even lunch time yet. Her cunt was still leaking a bit of her Master’s cum, while her breasts still bore the lingering traces of teeth marks from the Slave owned by Master’s friend, Chris. Her mouth still tasted the juices of Slave’s cunt. Who knew woman-cum tasted so sweetly erotic. For that matter, who knew that erotic even had a taste? For certain, she had not, at least not before driving 800 miles to spend 4 days at this camp for Kinksters. As her car had driven closer to her destination, she had second thoughts. Several times, she nearly turned the car back to her sedate home in the sedate burbs, back to the sedate pace she had grown accustomed to. Now here she was, walking buck-ass naked next to a man, a sexy, handsome, middle-aged Master, who had done things to her over the last two and a half days that she had never, ever imagined having done to her. And she liked it. Oh, she very much liked it.
She shivered, and he drew her close, seeking to warm, to comfort her, even as he kept walking on. His caring of her was a very nearly unconscious gesture, she realized. She had become a cherished possession, and she was the beneficiary of intense nurturing from this man, her Master. The kind of care that her former husband had reserved for few of his belongings, except his fucking car. But never for her. In fact, when he told her he wanted out of their marriage, that had been what he’d said to her…”it isn’t about you, Corinne,” and she wondered if it ever had been. Now there were no regrets for what had been, because all of that had led her to here. To this place, snuggled right in the smelly armpit of a man she was almost afraid she was falling in love with. Her body responded to his every whim, his every demand. He took what he wanted, and in the taking, caused her to offer herself up to him. He saw that as a gift. She saw it as becoming really, truly alive for the first time in 48 years.
He watched, although she didn’t know he watched. He was learning to read her, his little slave. She was dancing in the past and it was time to bring her back to the here and now. There was so little time left. Casually, his arm slipped off her shoulder, reaching under her armpit, and grabbed her tit, squeezing. He felt her jolt, just a little bit, when he gripped her nipple, pulled it, stretching the pointy tip as far as he was able. A soft groan came from his armpit, where he had once again shoved her head as the foursome walked up to the Lodge.
“Does she know…” Master Chris broke off at Dave’s quick nod no, and the finger raised to his lips to show he didn’t want Chris to spill anything, either.
Cori’s muffled voice wafted out from her Master’s armpit. “Master, nothing personal but you stink!” A giggle, then “Of course, I mean that in the most respectful of ways, Sir!”
He pulled her nipple, one last firm tweak, then let go and swatted her ass instead. Reaching up, he grabbed a hank of the blonde hair he treasured. Tilting her head back, he asked her, in a mock threatening voice,
“Wanna smell something even stinkier? Like my asshole, cunt? Because I’d be happy to have you right here, on your knees, your tongue cleaning my shit hole, if that’s your desire ?” That wiped the smirk right off of her face, but evoked a giggle from Chris’ Slave. Master Chris likewise grabbed his Slave by her hair and told her
“think that’s funny slave? Because if she goes to town on his ass, you’ll be a true kindred spirit, on your knees and lapping at my asshole, too!”
She saw Slave try to wipe the grin from her face, but it was obvious it was a struggle. Oh the woe’s of being a submissive, she mused, laughing just to herself. Who would have thought an exercise in laughter control would be the subject of a Dom/sub conversation? Of course it did start with her flip remark to him, but he appeared to enjoy sparring with her.
They came to the Lodge a few moments later. To Cori’s surprise, the Closed sign was gone, the doors were braced wide open, and the cavernous room was filled with Masters, Mistresses, Dom’s and their property. The Tops were gathered around a large chalkboard, discussing, laughing, pointing at their slaves, writing on the board. Cori and Slave were instructed to go to the far side of the room where the other slaves had congregated.
“What’s going on?” Cori whispered to Slave. “No Talking!” At her Master’s loud order, Cori looked back at him, mouthing ‘Sorry, Boss”, which cracked a smile out of him.
After a brief wait, nodding at the other slaves gathered in the “Pen” area (‘sheesh” , thought Cori, “how un-original”) a Staffer came forward to the center of the floor. He dumped out a bag of knotted hemp ropes. A group of junior staffers jumped up and began stretching the ropes in straight lines across the room. There were 15 lines when the work was completed, and Cori was completely stumped.
An announcement from the portable mic startled everyone, as it began with a backfeeding squeeeeeel. With everyone shocked into attention, the speaker smiled. A handsome Woman, dressed in thigh high boots, a tight corset, and leather armbands, she was stunning, both in looks and authority.
” Time for Fun and Games, boys and girls, Masters and Mistresses, Doms and Domme’s, slaves, cunts, slutboys, toys. ” She looked around the room, her wet red lips glistening. Cori found her stunning. Frightening. Awesome.
“Will the rope bearers please take your positions on the ropes?” An assorted group came forward, and each rope was risen to waist height. Several others came holding small white jars, and anointed every other knot with some kind of ” …lubricant, it looked like,” mused Cori, who was very curious about what was happening.
“Master’s, take your positions. Slaves, go to your Owner if she/he is at the end of a rope. Masters, prepare your slaves.”
Cori watched, uncertain as her Master approached one of the ropes, then hesitantly made her way to him. He lowered the rope enough for her to straddle it. He gestured to the staffer holding the near end, by them, to raise the rope. Once the rope was off the floor again, Master took a pair of ankle cuffs, put them on her ankles, and then attached them with a very short chain to each other. She was effectively hobbled. Another pair of cuffs went on her wrists, and were secured behind her. A ball gag, bright pink, ugh, and a pair of jingling nipple clamps completed Master’s arrangements. Glancing around her, she noted that the other slaves were decked out just as she was. When the last Master was done, the Mistress explained to the slaves what their task was. The Masters went across the room to wait for their slaves at the far end of the ropes. Cori felt the rope rise tightly against her groin, then even higher until it rested rather tightly in her sex crack. Her eyes widened as she realized the implications of the knots…each time she came to one, they would abrade her clit…why there must be 15 knots, she blinked, knowing that more than one slave would be having an orgasm before the end of the rope race.
“One other thing, slaves…no cumming! If you cum, you are out, and who know’s what your Master’ or Mistress’ punishment will be? ” said the Mistress with a very large smile.
“At least,” Cori thought, ” every other knot or so is coated with lube,so we won’t get totally rubbed raw.”
“Ready? Steady? GO!”
The slaves surged forwards on their ropes, despite their hobbled ankles, and Cori was surprised to find herself ahead of the pack. If she took a deep breath, she could almost raise her cunt above the worst of the friction. She hit the first knot, grimacing with the flick across her clit. It was rough rope, and the sensation was intense. She kept moving forward, gazing at each knot like a handhold. She was up, over and just past the next knot when the shocking gel hit her.
“AAAAAaaaaaaaaaa” she screamed behind her gag, drool cascading from her mouth, running in a thin river down her chin, down her tit, dripping from her pinched nipple to the floor. Tears erupted at the intense tingley burn in her cunt. That wasn’t lube at all…it was freeze ‘n burn cream! Sonofabitch! The pain caused her to move forward faster, nearly pitching forward in her haste to rub it off her burning bits. She looked wildly for her Master through tear-blurred eyes. There. An island of calm in her ocean of pain. He stood, arms crossed across his wide chest, legs apart, looking for all the world like a captain on a ship. His face, while firm, had a hint of smile dancing around the edges. She would kill him. Twist his nipples and bite his cock head. The angry thoughts buzzed like bees in her head, or perhaps the buzz was all the moans from slaves around her. Still she blazed forward, nearly prepared for the shock when she hit her second lubed knot. The fiery pain exploded with even more intensity, she was even more raw and sensitive now. No, she knew what she’d do. When he untied her, she would climb up him, and shove that cock of his deep inside her. While it would undoubtedly push some of the noxious gel inside, a good portion would no doubt slither across the sensitive head of his cock. It was a good plan. She nodded to herself, then, staring at him, she went on. And on. When she came to the end of her rope, she barreled straight into the staffer holding it deeply in her crotch, causing him to drop the rope and dance back a step. The expression on her face was not slavey, it was, frankly, rather fearsome. Her Master grabbed her arms, forestalling her further attempts at running down the hapless lad, and laughing, gathered her into one of his stunning bear hugs. He released her ball gag, being certain to swoosh the spit that poured out of her pouting mouth across her chin, down her throat, and breasts, coating them liberally with it.
Releasing her hands and hobbled feet, but keeping the cuffs in place, he was stunned and amazed when she threw herself on him, nearly climbing him.
“Fuck me, fuck me fuck me fuck me” she was chanting.
But he was a wise Master, and he knew exactly what that nod in the middle of her ‘run’ was about. He knew for certain who would be fucked if he let her have her way.
Later, when she could bask in the glow of her first Slave Games victory, she would smile when he told her of the look of determination that crossed her face, her horror when she discovered the true meaning of the ‘lube’ and all the rest. But for now, there were other challenges to be attempted…or else!