Angelica Enslaved

Author's Notes:

Content Warning:

This story is posted under BDSM because the dominant element is enthusiastically consensual BDSM. But be aware that there are

non-con elements as well

, and in parts it turns in the direction of non-consensual slavery and genuine rather than performative sadism. Please be warned and move on if that sort of thing offends you.

Recap:

This story was inspired by a reader's casual comment, quite some time ago now, "I wonder what's happened with Angelica lately." Good question, and this story tries to supply some answers.

This story combines characters and plotlines from across my fictional universe. In order to make this story self-contained without bogging it down in back references, here's a brief recap of the essentials. Devoted readers of my stories can skip this if they don't need a refresher.

We first meet Angelica in "Signing Up for a Life of Slavery." If you haven't read that story, you can go back and pick up the thread, but all you really need to know to understand this story is that she's a confirmed pain slut. In fact, she is so fixated on being a genuine, non-consensual sex slave that she abandons her consensual BDSM partner, Jonathan, and signs on with Theo.

Theo runs a BDSM brothel ("Theo's BDSM Slave Service" and a bunch of other stories) in which clients can rent a slave for an hour and a half and do almost anything they want to her as long as they don't cause lasting damage. It's earthshakingly illegal as all the slaves except Angelica have been kidnapped and held very much against their will. This suits Angelica perfectly.

Then some slaves escape and Theo is busted ("Escape from Theo's"). Rasheed and Serena, two former slaves, take over and run the place on a consensual basis ("Rasheed and Serena's BDSM Service"). This spoils the mood for Angelica, who eventually quits and goes back to Jonathan, displacing Allyson, his interim BDSM partner.

And that's where we come in ...

It was Friday, and Angie and I had arranged for another hot BDSM weekend. I took the long way home from work to give Angie plenty of time to get to my place ahead of me and get herself rigged up as directed. I had left the little ornamental weathercock on the banister turned toward the basement stairs to indicate that she was to wait for me in our basement dungeon rather than upstairs in the bedroom.

When I opened the door to the dungeon, the first thing I saw was the little anatomically-correct Barbie that I leave positioned to show how I want Angie to dress and position herself for my arrival. This time, Barbie was naked, dangling by spread ankles from a model suspension frame, her little plastic pussy on full display and her plastic wrists strapped to opposite elbows to hold her arms horizontally across her back and totally out of the way. A strict-looking leather panel gag covered her mouth. As you can tell, I'd had a lot of fun creating all sorts of Barbie-sized bondage gear for her to wear. Dream house be damned.

In the centre of the room was my full-sized steel suspension frame, and dangling from it by her ankles was a full-sized Angelica, panel-gagged and cross-tied just like Barbie. Most of my gear is designed to be self-bondage friendly -- her wrists were held in snap cuffs that locked shut at the touch of a release, and I had paid extra for motorized pullies on the suspension frame so Angelica could lift herself with a remote control.

I walked once around the frame, slowly, taking in the sight of my naked and helpless bondage partner with her inverted breasts rolled up on her chest and her shaved pussy pulled slightly open by the spread of her legs. From a shelf of bondage gear I retrieved a pair of vicious-looking steel nipple clamps. I took one of Angie's nipples in my mouth and sucked on it vigorously, making it harden and protrude. When I had it sufficiently engorged, I took my mouth off it and substituted one of the clamps, making sure it bit mostly areola right at the base of her nipple. She let out a very satisfying squeal of pain behind the gag and thrashed in the chains that held her. Then I repeated the process with the other nipple.

I admired the effect as the weights on the clamps pulled her nipples toward the floor and swung with every movement of her bound body. Then I went back to the shelf and selected a long-handled riding crop. It had an extra-large leather tongue with holes in it to reduce air resistance, and I knew from experience that it could inflict a large amount of pain without breaking any skin. It made a fiendish whoosh followed by a loud smack as I brought it down hard on her bare ass, leaving a bright pink mark and making her thrash with pain. The thrashing only made the clamps bite deeper into her flesh.

I worked her over slowly for at least fifteen minutes until the muffled squeals of pain ran together into a strangled scream that I knew from experience signified a crashing orgasm brought on by the combination of helplessness and pain. Angelica's appetite for pain never ceases to amaze me; she can take more of it than any masochistic pain slut I've ever played with. For her, just plain sex isn't any fun at all unless it's combined with some restraint and raw agony.

I gave her a few minutes to come down from the orgasm. Then, noting that there were still areas of her back and thighs that weren't pink, I started in again, building her slowly up to another blaze of orgasm.

After two more orgasms, I was running out of untouched skin and I judged that Angie would be ready for a change of pace. Without setting down the riding crop, I started massaging her soaking wet pussy with the other hand, running my fingers in and out of her vagina and then over her engorged clitoris. A drawn-out, contented "Mmmmm" of pleasure came from behind the gag as I massaged her, still smarting from the crop and the biting pain of the nipple clamps, to yet another orgasm.

I am a big fan of assholes. For some reason, they beckon even louder than pussies, and I love the tight feel of a sphincter as I force it open with my penis. Obviously, there was no way I could get my penis into the brown pucker that beckoned from between Angelica's spread legs - one of the few disadvantages of her being suspended upside-down - but I wasn't going to let that stop me. I ran some lube over her asshole and rubbed some liberally over the handle of the riding crop, then pressed it against her sphincter. It resisted at first, then parted to let me sink the handle slowly, centimetre by centimetre, into Angie's body.

I found the sensation of pushing the handle slowly into her asshole almost as big a thrill and it would have been to put my cock in there. I stood back to gaze at the sight of the crop sticking absurdly but erotically out of her ass like a flute in a painting by Hieronymus Bosch.

By this time, my cock was achingly erect and very uncomfortably confined by my pants, so I stripped off my clothes and set it free. I parted her pussy lips with my tongue and began licking sensuously between them, running my tongue over her clit and the entrance to her vagina as I slid the crop handle slowly in and out of her ass, butt-fucking her to yet another squealing orgasm. Fortunately for me, Angie loves having things shoved up her ass as much as I love shoving them there.

Having gotten myself almost painfully hard with the thrill of all the pain I was inflicting, I decided that it was my turn to get myself off. Leaving the crop sticking out of its live holder, I reached around behind Angie's head and unbuckled the gag. The stuffer ball that was built into it was large enough that I had to wiggle and pull to help her get it out from behind her teeth. I let her gasp for a minute once her mouth was freed, then picked up the remote and adjusted the suspension chains until her mouth was exactly level with my cock.

Her inverted position meant that she could tip her head back so her throat was neatly lined up with my erect cock, which was sticking up at forty-five degrees or so. I guided it into her waiting mouth and she closed her lips around it, running her tongue luxuriantly over my cock-hole and around the base of my glans. I kept my cock in her mouth for a few minutes, relishing all the nice things that were happening to it in there, and then interlaced my fingers behind her head to keep her from swinging away from me as I pressed my cock firmly down her throat. She trained herself out of her gag reflex long ago, so I was able to sheath my cock balls-deep and enjoy the way she squeezed her throat muscles tightly around it. I slid back far enough to let her catch a breath through her nose and then plunged back deep in her warm, wet canal.

I have pretty good stamina, if I do say so myself. I must have face-fucked Angie for at least ten minutes, letting the orgasm gradually rise in my cock and pelvis without letting it break out and end my pleasure. Finally I could feel my cock starting to pulse as it shifted into the final stage of its journey. My prostate clenched as it pumped a long, satisfying surge of cum into Angie's waiting mouth. She kept her lips sealed around my cock until I was finished, and kept them pressed tightly together to hold her mouthful of cum as I pulled out. She swallowed, then licked around the corners of her mouth for any dribbles that had escaped.

**

That night, she seemed pensive as she lay in bed on her stomach while I smoothed aloe cream over her back and bum. The pink was already fading to her normal, slightly golden colour and the deep impressions from the nipple clamps were filling in nicely.

"What's the matter, Babe. You seem a bit blue tonight. Didn't I hurt you enough?"

"Oh, Jonathan, you know that's not it. You always seem to know exactly how much pain I need to drive me wild. When you shoved that crop up my ass, for some reason it was the most erotic thing on the planet. Much more wicked than just a butt plug."

"Still pining for your spell of slavery at Theo's before Rasheed and Serena spoiled it for you?"

"Kind of, I guess. Some of my time with Theo was boring, but I did look forward to seeing what the clients were going to do to me each night. I never knew there were so many ways to be tied up, flogged and fucked, and the fact that I had signed away every trace of consent was a constant turn-on in a weird sort of way. Once Rasheed and Serena took over and made it more or less consensual, it seemed to lose some of its thrill."

It was my turn to be pensive. "I made me happy to know that you were happy living out your slave fetish, but I sure missed you when you were gone. Allyson was an excellent fuck-buddy, but I feel like you complete me in ways no other woman ever has."

"Don't misunderstand me, Jonathan. You're the best dom a girl could wish for. I look forward to our dungeon sessions all week. The fact that there's one thing you can't really give me doesn't take away a thing from what we have."

We kissed good night and rolled apart to go to sleep, but I stayed awake a long time, thinking.

**

A few weeks later, I was waiting in the dungeon when Angie, guided by the weathercock, opened the door.

"Jonathan! This is a surprise. Don't you want me to rig myself up before you come in?"

"Not this time, Babe. I felt like doing the rigging myself for a change. We'll start with you stripping for me."

Angie obediently started taking off clothes until she was standing in front of me in her bare skin, an alluring little cleft of pussy visible between her legs. I picked up a skein of soft cotton rope and said, "Turn around." She turned and brought her wrists together behind her back, knowing automatically what the next step was going to be. I doubled the rope, fed the ends back through the doubled-over part to make a loop, and put the loop around her wrists. I pulled it semi-tight, but loose enough that she would have been able to pull her hands out if I'd left it like that. I wrapped several neat turns around her wrists, then took a few more turns around the rope between her wrists to cinch it into what in effect were rope handcuffs, not too tight but impossible to get out of.

I did the same around her elbows, not trying to pull them painfully together behind her back but cinching them up enough to immobilize them and force her shoulders back and make her breasts even more prominent. Then I did something I hardly ever do - I tied her ankles and knees together. Despite the sexiness of the damsel-in-distress position, I don't usually use it because it makes that alluring pussy hard to get at. However, tonight I had other plans.

I finished off my uncharacteristically crude bondage by wadding up her panties and stuffing them in her mouth, securing them with a couple of turns of microfoam tape that formed to her face and outlined her lips behind the tape gag. She had a "what-the-fuck" expression on her face, no doubt wondering what had become of the elaborate dungeon equipment she was usually restrained in.

She made a loud "MMMPPPHHH!" of surprise as I picked her up and slung her over my shoulder. She made an even louder one when I carried her to the attached garage and dumped her in the trunk of my car. "Just make yourself comfortable in there," I said as I slammed the lid.

**

Half an hour later, I pulled into Brandon's attached garage. I left her in the trunk and went into the house to find Brandon. I walked back into the garage with him and opened the trunk with a theatrical "Voila" gesture.

"Whoa. Nice! You were right - I'm sure she won't disappoint." He gave her exposed breasts a hearty squeeze, then ran his hand over her bum. We picked her up together, me taking her shoulders and he her feet, and carried her into the house like a big sack of potatoes. We dumped her unceremoniously in the middle of the carpet and ignored her as we talked.

Brandon handed me a hard-sided attaché case, which I put on the floor and opened. Inside were big stacks of hundred-dollar bills, the image of Sir Robert Borden staring glumly out of the brown Canadian notes. I held a stack up so Angie could see it. For the first time, her look of puzzlement turned to a look of concern, even fear.

"I won't bother to count it. I'm sure the whole twenty thousand is here. You've just bought yourself the best sex slave you could wish for. I hope you have a nice, secure dungeon to keep her in. She'll be with you for a long time."

"Oh yes. I have a good place for her. I'm not letting my twenty thousand dollars run off."

For the first time, Angie started to struggle violently, thrashing around on the floor and trying to scream through the gag. Of course, she didn't get anywhere. I had done a good job of tying her up.

I turned to address Angie. "You'll find Brandon here a very different sort of slave owner from Theo. Allyson had a run-in with him once before she met me, and she tells me that he's just as much of a sociopath as Theo was, but with more of an interest in a slave for his personal entertainment rather than as a business venture. I think you'll find that he likes dishing out pain just as much as I do, but he's not nearly as good at stopping when you've had enough."

I looked at Brandon. "She's yours now, but do you mind if I fuck her one last time before I hand her over?"

"Go ahead. I don't mind taking second shift in her holes."

With her knees and ankles tied, there was really only one way to get into her body. I lifted her up and draped her face down over the arm of the living-room couch. I took a small bottle of lube out of my pocket, dropped my pants and underwear and stepped out of them, and then came up behind her. I squeezed some lube into my hand, pried open her asscrack and felt for her asshole, then poked the lube into it as well as I could with my fingers. Then I pushed my cock into her, a lot more roughly than I usually do.

She let out a long squeal of pain behind the tape gag as I started pounding into her rectum from behind. I didn't use any of my usual sexual technique, building slowly and holding back until she'd had at least one good teeth-rattling orgasm. Instead, I just fucked her hard, reveling in the feeling of my cock sliding in and out of her tightest hole. My pelvis started to clench and my cock to pulse as I sped quickly to orgasm and pumped what felt like a huge load of cum deep into her rectum. When I pulled out, I didn't try to catch it in a tissue. I just let my cum dribble out into her asscrack and down her leg.

I pulled my pants back on and started for the door, carrying the attaché case. I turned to her, still draped over the arm of the couch with cum oozing out of her buttcrack. "So long, Babe. Enjoy living out your slave fetish with Brandon for the rest of your life. I'm sure you'll find him interesting."

As I turned to go, she tried to scream something that I think was supposed to be "JONATHAAAAN!!" but with the panties wadded in her mouth and the tape over her lips, it just came out as a totally inarticulate muffled scream. I didn't turn back. I just opened the door and headed out to my car.

**

The next Friday, I pulled into Brandon's garage again. Brandon greeted me at the inside door.

"Hi Jonathan. Back to pick up your package?"

"That's right. I trust you've had an entertaining week with her."

"Have I ever. She's gorgeous - great tits and ass, really tight holes, and a great appetite for sex and pain. I hardly had to discipline her to make her behave, even when I was beating the shit out of her. She did try to get away a couple of times, but I made sure she regretted it. She has great pain tolerance, but I can make her sorry if I really try."

"Where is she now?"

"Locked in the dungeon as usual. Wanna see?"

Brandon led me down a corridor to a formidable metal door at the end. He took out a key and opened it - the hinges made a theatrical creak as the heavy door swung open, revealing a dungeon not unlike my own, although with different sorts of equipment pushed against the walls. In the centre of the room, there was Angie.

She was lying back in a chair that looked for all the world like it belonged in an OB-GYN examining room. Her feet were held in metal stirrups by polished steel clamps, and her wrists were clamped to the arms of the chair. Another steel clamp covered her mouth, not only gagging her but also keeping her head immobile. The stirrups held her legs wide apart, and between her legs was a machine from which two dildo poles extended, one buried in her pussy and the other in her asshole. They weren't moving at the moment, but I had no doubt that they had been very lively earlier in the day.

Her body was covered in red welts that looked like cane strikes. I couldn't see any broken skin so they would likely heal without scarring - that was part of the deal I'd made with Brandon - but it was sad to see her creamy-gold skin so marked up. On her breasts I could see bruises in the shape of teeth marks.

She seemed to be dozing. When she heard me enter, her eyes snapped open and she began to thrash against the clamps that were holding her to the chair. She made a string of inarticulate noises that sounded as though she desperately wanted to tell me something, but she was unable to form them into words. From the sound, I had no doubt that the steel clamp was holding something large in her mouth.

"Go ahead," said Brandon. "Try out the fucking machine. It's really fun." He handed me a remote control.

I pressed what was obviously the "on" button. The machine hummed softly but didn't do anything. There were three sliders on the control, marked "Speed," "Depth" and "Phase." I slid the one marked "Speed" up a bit, and the dildos started to move in and out. They worked opposite to each other, one moving out while the other was thrusting in. I increased the speed until her body was being rocked back and forth in the chair as far as the clamps would let it and her breasts were rolling up and down on her chest. I slid the one marked "Depth" up slowly, and the dildos started penetrating more and more deeply. I backed off the depth a bit - I didn't think Angie's love of pain would cover a bruised cervix.