Wheals of Fortune Ch 01
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Wheals Of Fortune Ch. 03 free porn video
I was stood facing Mistress Rosa’s assembled guests, not at all afraid, proud of my position as her slave, my leash held by the trembling little Spanish maid, Pilar, who certainly was scared.
I had been ‘prepared’ to be presented to my Mistress’s guests, and wore a wholly transparent long white dress, which left my breasts and back completely exposed. My nipples were tightly clamped and the clamps connected by a weighted chain, a much smaller weight hung from the ring in my pierced clit, and my ankles and wrists were shackled. I knew I was the perfect picture of a sex-slave, and as I surveyed the people sat around the big table, I could see the lust in their eyes, and revelled in the knowledge that there wasn’t one of them who wouldn’t want to fuck me, man or woman.
Rosa stood, dressed in a soft jade-green silk gown with a plunging neckline, and took the leash from Pilar, who stood aside.
‘This is Julie,’ she announced, ‘she is my slave, and I am very proud to have her services, as is Mr. Gordon. During the evening, one of you, at least, will have the opportunity to make her acquaintance.’
I wondered what she had in store for me, and also mused on the fact that she always referred to her husband as ‘Mr Gordon’ – never using his first name, I didn’t even know what it was.
As my Mistress walked me slowly around the table, I took stock of some of the guests.
I was more than a little surprised when I spotted my old friend and workmate Carla, together with her husband, whose name I couldn’t remember. There she was, Goth as ever, purple, spiky hair above her sharp little features, wearing a flame-red corset which practically cut her in half, so much did it restrict her waist, and pushed up her small, sharp-pointed breasts so that they jutted out above the horizontal. In the short time since I had seen her, she had had her nipples pierced, and a dull metal ring hung from each one. Below her corset, she wore what appeared to be some sort of stiff gauze skirt, and black stockings completed her ensemble. She smiled at me and winked, and I nodded back. Next to her was a spectacular platinum blonde, wearing a fishnet tube-dress and, apparently, nothing else, and she was accompanied by an equally gorgeous hunk of manhood, with bulging biceps threatening to burst from his tee-shirt and pale blue eyes which were just unreal. My eyes lingered upon this fantastic couple, so that I had little time to take in the rest, as my Mistress ushered me on and away from the table, to where my view of everyone was restricted by pot-plants and so-forth. There, I had previously failed to notice a thick chain hanging down from a stout bracket in the ceiling.
‘I am about to suspend Julie here,’ announced my Mistress, to all and sundry, and, unclipping my leash, raised my hands above my head, and deftly clipped my wrist-cuffs into a snap-link on the end of the chain, which she must have previously measured for height, because I was just able to stand, thanks to my heels, although I knew it was going to be acutely uncomfortable, suspended there, if I was going to be there very long, my arms being pulled high above my head.
Mistress Rosa now turned to the expectant gathering.
‘When you’ve finished coffee, you can come and have a good look at her, if you wish, then I shall conduct a charity auction – proceeds to the local multiple sclerosis association – the highest bidder will have an hour with Julie, to do as he or she pleases. Julie is very accommodating!’
I started as the first person who walked up to me, flicking idly at my skirt, was my Mistress’s double, but dressed in a tight black velvet dress. At first I thought Mistress Rosa had changed her dress, then I realised it was her sister, Maria, who had caned me so brutally a few weeks earlier.
‘Ha, so my pupil moved on to greater things, eh?’ she said, and gave a painful tug at the chain connecting my nipple-clamps.
I didn’t reply, but thought how much the caning she had given me had changed my life, and how I had longed for her to take me in her arms afterwards. Something in my expression got through to her, I suppose, because she smiled, and said, ‘My sister is lucky to have found you. We shall meet again soon.’
Her place was taken beside me by the silent Mr Gordon, who raised the back of my skirt to look at the welts his wife had raised on my buttocks, running an exploratory finger along the deepest of them.
‘Mmm,’ he murmured, and let my skirt drop back into place, then nodded to a tall, elegant fifty-something lady, her long auburn hair shot with grey streaks, her unsupported breasts jiggling under a white organdie blouse as she approached me. She came up to me directly, and kissed me full on the lips, a kiss that demanded a response, a response I gave, opening my lips to her, and allowing my tongue to dart into her slightly open mouth, so that she could feel my little stud graze her own tongue. A hand found the chain hanging from my clit, through the flimsy material of my skirt, and she tugged gently at it, sending a new vibration through my body.
She stepped back a fraction.
‘You are very lovely, my dear,’ she said, ‘I shall ask Rosa to loan you to me one day soon.’ Then she too left me, and the platinum blonde and her hunk came up to inspect me.
My arms were feeling very tired by now, but I enjoyed the sight of the two lovely creatures, as they pawed each other and my body alternately – I found myself hoping they had enough money to win the ‘charity auction.’
My old friend Clara was smiling up into my face, looking distinctly envious!
‘And to think, I put you up to this!’ she said.
‘Right now, you could take my place,’ I said, ‘my arms are fucking killing me!’ And the pain I was feeling in those limbs had nothing to do with the sort of pain I loved, the pain that got my juices running, the pain I now knew so well, craved even, when the cruel nipple-clamps bit into my tender parts, when my Mistress’s whip fell on my flesh. No, this was just hurt, the sort of thing you get when you stub your toe, and I was almost oblivious as the other guests filed past me, making comments, some stroking me, tugging at my chain, trying vainly to make me cry out.
Eventually, to my relief, Mistress Rosa appeared, and took me down, massaging my arms, so that the blood came back into them.
‘You poor dear,’ she whispered, ‘I’d quite forgotten about you!’
She clipped my leash into place, and led me to a small dais at one end of the room.
Raising her voice, she said, ‘And now, dear friends, we come to my charity auction. Who will start the bidding? Remember, the prize is an hour with this lovely slave of mine. Let’s start the bidding at five hundred pounds!’
Several hands went up, and the bidding mounted rapidly, with Maria, the elegant middle-aged lady, and the hunk very much to the fore. The hunk and his lady-friend seemed to be acting very much in tandem on this, as far as I could see.
At a thousand pounds or so, Maria dropped out of the reckoning, and my Mistress obviously thought the bidding needed a boost.
‘On your knees!’ she ordered, and I obeyed, my back to the audience. Mistress Rosa, pulled my skirt up to my waist, exposing me to all and sundry, then put her foot between my legs, pushing my knees apart, so that my pussy was lewdly displayed, the weighted chain dangling down from my clit. They could also see the marks of my recent caning, dark red, livid welts.
‘Come on,’ she said, ‘show them your cunt, like a good little slut!’
I obediently reached between my legs, hampered by my wrist-cuffs, and used both hand to spread my labia as wide as I was able, showing the moist pinkness of my pussy, with the warm dark hole of my cunt an invitation to the lucky winner.
‘Now,’ called Rosa, ‘who wants to bid more for this gorgeous creature? Remember, an hour with her – there is no limit to what you can do with her in an hour.
‘
To emphasise the point, she fetched me a resounding slap across my arse, which made me gasp.
Bidding resumed, but I was unable to see who was raising their hands. Things slowed at one thousand eight hundred, and my Mistress finally ‘knocked me down’ at one thousand eight hundred and fifty pounds, to Mr and Mrs Butler.
I confidently expected that they would turn out to be the platinum blonde and the hunk, and looked forward to an hour in the Mistress’s bedroom with them. I fancied the idea of stripping that fishnet tube off the platinum blonde’s delectable body, not to mention being fucked by the muscular ‘hunk.’
My Mistress pulled me to my feet, and said, ‘You’d better meet the winners, my dear!’
I was both surprised, and, to be truthful, disappointed, when she presented me to a studious looking young guy wearing square glasses, a checked shirt and corduroy trousers, accompanied by a pale girl with long brown hair, dressed in a shapeless long brown shift-dress.
‘This, as you now know, is Julie,’ she told them, and gave them directions to her room.
‘I’ve left a selection of toys out for you – feel free to use whatever you want, and don’t feel rushed – you can take more time, if you need it,’ she said, giving the end of my leash to Mr Butler, who told me his name was Gary, and his wife was called Ann. They led me to my Mistress’s room. As I had expected, she had left everything prepared – the curtain which normally concealed the St. Andrew’s Cross drawn back, the chain lowered from the ceiling, a tray of ‘toys’ including a crop, a flogger and two whips, on the dresser. Gary looked around in wonderment.
‘As we have time,’ said Gary, ‘sit with us a minute, while I tell you about us.’
I nodded and the three of us sat on the sofa, me between the two of them, conscious of Gary’s hand on my thigh, gently stroking. I responded by putting mine on the bulge in his trousers, which grew instantly. Ann seemed not to notice at my other side, her own thigh warm against mine.
‘We won the lottery about a year ago,’ he told me, ‘a lot of money. And most of it is still intact. We live well on the interest, but something is lacking in our lives. Ann can’t ….. can’t…..climax.’
I half-turned to look at her, and her gaze was downcast. I turned back to Gary.
‘Have you seen anyone?’
‘Yes – a sexologist says it has to do with her being brutally violated by her stepfather, but can’t offer any help otherwise.’
‘So what do you think I can do?’ I wanted to know.
‘Ann wants me to hurt her, like her stepfather did – keeps saying so, but I can’t bring myself to do it. We thought ……, well, we thought you might do it?’
‘Gary, I’m a slave,’ I said, ‘I’m the one who gets hurt – I need that too!’
‘Please, Julie,’ he said, ‘you know what to do, and you’re used to that kind of thing – please help us!’
I nodded reluctantly, but Gary was already on his feet, pulling Ann to hers. I stood too, and watched as Gary unfastened the clasps at the shoulders of Ann’s shift. It fell from her white body, leaving her stark naked, small, almost non-existent breasts topped by nice, puffy nipples, the outline of ribs visible on her slender frame, long brown hair falling to her waist.
‘Can I wear those, for a start?’ she asked, in a tiny voice, touching the chain connecting my nipple clamps.
‘They hurt!’ I said, unscrewing them. Not as much as they hurt me, I thought! The blood rushed into my tortured nipples, which had been subjected to them – very tightly – for a long time, and I gasped in agony.
I fitted them carefully to Ann’s nice nipples, first kneading and pulling at them to give me room, and she moaned a little at their feel – a good sign, I thought.
‘Unfasten my shackles, Ann, please,’ I told her, and she quickly released my wrists and ankles from their chains. I took off the cuffs from my wrists, and gave them to Gary to put on his wife, while I paid a much-needed visit to the toilet.
When I returned, she was wearing the cuffs, and looked strangely proud, standing there with the nipple-clamps attached, and her wrists cuffed, in nothing but her high heels.
I decided it might be best to hook her up to the chain rather than the cross – giving me more options as to how I could whip her. I told Gary to clip her wrists to the snap link on the end of the chain, which was down at shoulder level, then pressed the button to retract it up to a suitable height, pulling her arms up to near full-stretch.
‘Are you sure about this?’ I asked Ann, and she nodded.
‘That’s not good enough,’ I told her, ‘I want you to ask me to hurt you!’
‘Please, Julie,’ she whispered, ‘whip me. Hurt me, please!’
I took up the flogger, in effect a leather cat o’nine tails, and, for the first time ever, tried it in my hand. It felt easy enough to wield, and made a swish as it flew through the air, but I knew from experience that it did little real harm. I gave her a couple of medium strokes across the tops of her breasts, reddening the flesh nicely, but drawing no more than a gasp from Ann with each blow. Gary stood behind me, and I could hear his breath coming almost in gulps, as his hand snaked around and cupped my breast. He came up closer, and now I felt his big erection pressing into my arse, as I gave hi wife another, harder thwack, this time across her stomach, raising a nice little pattern of red stripes as the thongs bit home. She moaned, and I followed my Mistress’s example, brusquely feeling her pussy, and finding it already moist – her juices were running!
‘She’s damp!’ I told Gary, ‘I think a few strokes of the crop will do the trick.’
I moved around behind her now, and threw the heavy mane of her hair over her shoulder, out of my way, then changed the flogger for the long leather riding crop.
‘I’m going to hurt you now, darling,’ I told her, ‘that’s what you want, isn’t it?’
‘Oh yes,’ she managed to reply, and I saw that Gary now had forgotten any inhibition he may have had, and had his cock in his hand, a nice one too, I thought, and wondered if I’d get it inside me.
Carried away by that thought, I probably lashed Ann harder than I had intended, catching her squarely across the shoulder-blades with the vicious, stinging crop, raining a lovely red wheal, and causing her to cry out loudly.
‘Quiet!’ I said, and repeated the stroke, lower down, raising another pretty stripe on her white, tender flesh.
‘Oh, oh, argh!,’ she wailed, and Gary was suddenly beside me, thrusting his throbbing cock into my free hand, as I lashed his wife again, lower still down her arched back.
‘Oh, oh, oh, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!’ she yelled, and I threw down the crop, putting a hand into the warmth of her sopping cunt, as she convulsed and came with a force born of years of effective celibacy.
‘Julie, ‘ whispered Gary, ‘my turn?’
I dropped to my knees and took his cock in my lips, letting my tongue-stud play for a second on his crown, then pulled him deep within my throat, and sucked him hard. He came in an instant, splattering the back of my throat with his hot pent-up spunk until I thought he would never finish.
‘I’m sorry, Ann,’ he said, when he’d done, and I was letting her down.
‘It’s OK, darling,’ she said, ‘we both owe a lot to Julie.’
Yes, I thought, and I need paying back! I was no dominatrix, but whipping Ann, then having her husband cum in my mouth, had set me well on the way to a climax that was now waiting in the wings. I sat back on the bed, flung up my skirt, and my fingers found their way in between my warm, wet, puffy labia, teasing my already-erect clit into a rock-hard bullet. To my surprise, Ann was by my side, almost before I knew it, and her hand was over mine.
‘Let me do that, please!’ she implored me, ‘I’ve never……’ She didn’t finish the sentence, but if she had been going to declare her inexpe
rience, it wasn’t apparent, as she drove me back onto the bed, kissing me furiously, her fingers busily tugging, fascinated, aat the chain depending from my clit, and plunging deep into my cunt.
‘Oh, Ann,’ I said, ‘that’s lovely. Now eat me, darling! Suck my pussy!’
She needed no further asking, and dived down, her tongue lapping the length of my crack, then driving down within me. I reached down with both hands to stretch open my arsehole, and she took the cue, thrusting in a forefinger, whilst her tongue simultaneously penetrated my fuckhole.
My orgasm came in a sudden, ecstatic rush, the accumulated excitement of the whole evening packed into the moment, as I almost lost consciousness, my juices welled up, and I heard, as if from a distance, Ann saying, ‘Ooh, she’s squirted on me, mmm, lovely!’
I only then realised that Gary had been beside me all the time, fondling my breasts, and watching closely as his wife brought me to my climax.
Afterwards, Gary passed me their card, saying I was welcome to visit them whenever I wanted. I didn’t think I would.
‘Miss Julie, it is beautiful morning. I bring coffee!’ A smiling Pilar was standing by my bed, the morning after my being ‘auctioned off,’ carrying a breakfast tray. I was ravenous. The coffee was hot and I patted the bed, indicating that the maid should sit with me whilst it cooled.
‘Did anyone do anything to you last night?’ I asked, remembering her totally transparent outfit.
‘He try fucky-fuck me, but Mistress she no let him,’ she said.
‘Who tried?’ I asked, amused at her attempt at English.
‘He guapo, with pretty woman,’ she said.
So the ‘hunk’ had tried it on with Pilar, but Mistress Rosa had intervened – wanted to save her maid for something else, no doubt. But Pilar was looking a bit downcast about it, as if she had been deprived of a bit of fun, as no doubt she had.
I didn’t have long to wait to find out more. Over breakfast, in the conservatory, Mistress Rosa asked me if I had enjoyed my evening with Gary and Ann. When I told her about it, she was amused.
‘And I thought you were sure to be whipped,’ she said, ‘never mind, I’ll see to it that you don’t miss out.’
My Mistress was obviously wondering whether to tell me something, and after a while he seemed to make up her mind: ‘Julie,’ she said, ‘there’s something you may be able to help me with. I think Pilar would like to become a slave – I think she has it in her – and my sister has been seeking one for a long time. Would you help me prepare her?’
Why yes, of course, Mistress, if that’s what you want,’ I said.
‘Thank you darling,’ she said, then, ‘come to my room after lunch, will you, dear, I’d like an hour with you.’
I was eager, as ever, to spend time with my Mistress, and lunch couldn’t come soon enough. When it did, I hurried through it alone in the dining room. Then I went back to my room to prepare carefully, as I always did, for my owner.
Knowing she liked jewellery, when I had finished my make-up, I clipped the silver chain she had bought me around my waist, and put in long, long silver pendant ear-rings. I pondered for a long time about what I should wear, and eventually decided on a black silk halter-neck cocktail-dress, mid-thigh length, with a full skirt that swirled around as I walked. My unfettered breasts jiggled around when I danced in front of my mirror. I wondered about stockings, and decided to go completely naked under the dress, so I completed my outfit with an anklet and a pair of ridiculously high Lucite stilettos. I looked critically at my hair, and wondered about putting it up, but thought better of it, and just brushed it out to a silken sheen. I was ready to see my Mistress.
‘Come in!’ she called – she had heard the click of my heels in the corridor.
She looked me up and down.
‘Why didn’t you put your hair up?’ she asked, sharply.
‘I…I thought……..’
‘You didn’t think at all – that’s the truth isn’t it, you little slut?’ she said, and I nodded dumbly, knowing I should have put my hair up, really, as it would be in the way if I was to be whipped. And now I knew I was to be whipped.
Julianne
- 15.08.2020
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