Friday, June 3, 2016

Fiction: fs01 - Part 13

Author's note:  This takes place a few hours after Part 12.


I walk in the front door.  The warmth of Dominique's home still wraps around me.  I head to the bedroom to change.

"Well, look at you."  A voice startles me.  Unfamiliar.  Fear.  Regret.  I should have changed my clothes back at Dominique's.

"I was curious to see what Cass's 'husband' was like.  With all the legal paperwork between you I would have guessed you were a retard or an invalid.  But here I just see a deviant."

My chest heaves.  I feel my blood go cold.

"We haven't met.  The family disowned her when she abandoned her practice and decided to give in to her perverted urges and opened that shop."

Brianna.  She has similar features to Mistress but is a few years older.  I look around the room.  The drawers are all open.  The dresser is lined with every dildo, vibrator, and strap on in the room.  On the bed lie piles of chains and restraints.  On the floor, every whip, paddle, flogger, cane, crop, and strap.

"Try anything and I'll call the police.  I'm sure they'd have fun arresting a pervert like you.  I'm trained in Jii Jitsu and will have no problem taking you down.  We're going to have a little talk.  I'm going to ask questions.  You're going to give me answers.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am."  I'm terrified.

"If you refuse to answer anything honestly I'll let the hospital that you're a pervert sexual predator and a sex offender."  I swallow.

Brianna holds up her phone and snaps a few pictures.
"These are for my peace of mind.  You might not care if they end up plastered all over the internet, but Cass might.  I'd suggest you not piss me off."

She's worse than Kimmy.  At least Kimmy never used blackmail.

"How does she tie you down to the bed?"
"There are straps with chains, Ma'am."
"Show me, and move slowly."

I make my way over to the bed, lifting each bedpost chain and placing it on the corner of the bed.
"Where are your restraints?"

I take one of the bondage rings in my fingers and show it to her.
"So that fag suit has restraints built in?  That makes things easier.  Get on the bed, face down.  Spread your arms and legs."

She shoves all of the items onto the floor.  I climb on and do as instructed.  She locks my wrists and ankles to the chains.  I'm helpless.  Brianna snaps a few more pictures.

"Letting your bare ass hang out like that.  You have no shame.  So which of these things hurts the worst?"
"The prison strap, Ma'am."
"Which one is that?"
"A long thick leather strap on a wooden handle."  I hear her rattle through the floggers and devices.
"Too heavy.  What is next?"
"I'm not sure, Ma'am, the rest depend upon how they're used."
"What gave you these bruises?"
"The fiberglass cane with the red handle, Ma'am."

I hear more rattling.  Swish, the cane whips back and forth through the air.

"What are you going to do to me?"
"Shut the fuck up.  You don't get to ask me anything."

Smack.  The cane lands on my buttocks.  I scream.

"Why are you dressed like that?"
"This is my maid's uniform, Ma'am.  Mistress requires that I wear it."
"By Mistress you mean, Cass, right?"
"Yes, Ma'am.  Cassandra."
"Why do you wear it?"
"Cassandra requires it, Ma'am."
"Do you like wearing it?"
"No, Ma'am.  It's embarrassing."
"So why do you wear it?"
"Cassandra requires it, Ma'am."
"Do you do everything Cass says?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"I love her, Ma'am."

Smack.  I cry out.

"So you let her dress you up and parade you around and you do whatever she tells you?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Cass always had bad taste in men."  I frown.

Smack.  I yelp.

"Where were you earlier?"
"I was at Cassandra's friend's house, Ma'am."
"What were you doing there?"
"She was trying to cheer me up, Ma'am."
"How did she do that?"
I pause.  Smack Smack.  I whimper.

"We watched a movie and ate pizza, Ma'am."
"What else?  Your pause told me there was more."
"We lay together on the couch, Ma'am."
"What else?"

"She introduced me to someone who was going through something similar, Ma'am."
"Half truths count as lies, asshole."

Smack, Smack, Smack, Smack, Smack.  I wail and sob.  Tears.
"What else?"
"She chained me up and tortured my nipples, Ma'am."  The tears flow.
"So not only are you a pervert, but you were cheating on Cass with another pervert?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"What makes you think you have the right to do that?"
"Cassandra gave her permission."
"How, she's in a coma?  What did she do, write you a letter before she went into a coma?"
"Yes, Ma'am.  It was a letter."

Smack, Smack, Smack.  I sob.
"Where is this letter?"
"On the nightstand, Ma'am."

Brianna picks up the letter and reads it.  She crumples it and throws it on the floor.  I whimper.

"I guess Cass is really convinced that the two of you are in love.  Two perverts, you're perfect for each other.  I take it when she's not fucking you up the ass you still love her?"
"Yes, Ma'am, I love her."
"Well, at least you can pretend to have manners."

She walks behind me to the far side of the room.  I hear lots of clattering and shifting along the dresser.  I hear faint cursing.

She appears in my peripherals.  I hear the rip of tape.  Her hand yanks on my head and she presses a length of duct tape over my mouth.  Another piece rips.  She layers it on.  Rip.  Stick.

"All these sex toys are too fucking complicated.  Have you ever been on video before, fag?  This will be my first sex tape, but I can assure you that the only one who will be identifiable is you."

My mouth screams in protest.  Mmmph.  Mmmph.  The tape does its job.  I struggle against the chains.  The sobbing resumes.

I feel the bottom of the bed sag.  Her hand against my sore red bottom.  I try to press my knees together.  I struggle.  The chains rattle and shake.  Tears fill my eyes.  Please, no.  No.  No.  No.

My hands curl into fists.  Cold silicon against my inner thigh.  I scream and I scream.  Nothing.

She presses it in.  I flail.  I weep and wail.  It hurts.  I tell myself this is for Mistress.  It still hurts.

She thrusts deeper.  My head pulls back.  I pull my arms against their restraints, anything to get away.  The ankle chains hold.  Sound escapes from below the layers of tape.

"What's the matter, fag?  I thought you liked this sort of thing."
She thrusts again.  My body tenses, fighting her off.  She wins.

Tears rain from my eyes.  Violation.  Pain.  Another thrust.  I try to scream.  Snot drips from my nose and mixes with the flow of tears down my face.  My breathing heaves, in and out through my nose.
Another thrust.  I bawl.  I shake my arms and legs in a final effort.  My back bends forcing my head as far back as it will go.

A harder thrust.  I drop limp to the bed.  She stops moving.  She's buried deep inside me.  It hurts.  I hear some rattling and I feel her weight shift on the bed.  She slides off the bed.  She left it inside me.  She holds the phone screen in front of my face and plays back the video.  I whimper watching the video of my rape.  All you can see is me and the base of the strap on.  I close my eyes, wishing it away.

This feels worse than usual.  No love.  No caring.  Only pain.

"I supposed if I had kept going that might have done something to me.  I'll never understand Cass's perversions.  If she found a real man she could just have sex."

I watch Brianna shake a pillow out of its case.  She pulls the pillow case over my head and gentle knots it under my chin.

"I'm tired of your face."

The click of her phone camera.  I hear some rustling behind me.  The light shuts off.  The front door closes in the distance.

I weep.  It hurts.  Mistress.  I love you.



  1. What. A. Bitch.

    I'm ready for Cass to be better.

    1. Thank you, Misty. Brianna was meant to represent the judgemental side of the world that kinksters tend to fear.