Mr. Deviant's Fan

I'd just stopped into my favorite store, Home Depot, to pick up a few supplies for around the house when I got a chuckle from the girl behind the counter.

"What's so funny," I inquired seriously.

"Your supplies," she said.

As I looked at her questioningly I asked her, "What is so funny about a bunch of nuts, bolts and wood?"

"I know what you are building with them," she whispered to me.

"Oh, do tell," I said.

"U-m-m-m-m-m-m," she stammered.

"What's the matter?" I teased. "Don't know?"

"I do Sir," she said, "I was just picturing myself on it, the cross, maybe a St. Andrew's cross."

The "Sir" did not escape my notice.

"And you'd enjoy this would you?" I inquired further.

"Very much Sir," she said as she lowered her head and gazed surreptitiously at my package.

"And would it please you to serve me," I said.

"Anyway you choose Sir," she said demurely.

"Really," I teased.

"Yes Sir," she said breathtakingly, "anyway you can think of."

"Ok then," I said handing her my address on a slip of paper, "be here a 9 pm, be naked and don't be late."

I wasn't sure she would be there, but I looked forward to 9 pm nonetheless. Sure enough at precisely 9 o'clock in the evening she was standing in front of my door waiting. Of course I let her wait long enough for her to build up a bit of nervous energy.

9:15: I couldn't wait any longer and pulled her into the house.

"Well, slave," I said, "I hope you are prepared to serve."

I could see the fear in her eyes when I called her slave. The smell of her fear was palpable—as was the smell of her arousal. Gently I pulled her toward me by crooking a finger inside her very wet pussy and leading her slowly as if I had a hold of a leash and not her clit as I did right then.

She slipped off of my finger a few times and it almost seemed deliberate. Let me tell you the fact that this blonde-haired, long-legged, extremely endowed woman with her juices running down her was totally subservient to me was a major turn-on to me. When she slipped out I could not resist tasting her juices on my finger. She was as sweet as she looked and then some. I could have died from sugar shock she was so sweet.

The darkness really scared her as I led her down into the cool basement level dungeon of my house. The room was originally, back in the 1800's, a root cellar and as such it is deep and always cool. Quite suddenly my hidden rooms underneath the cellar became visible to her when I lifted the concealed handle in the floor.

"So, slut," I said, "My name is Master Logan. What is your name?"

"Slut Cheri," she said. And you could hear the lowercase letters in both words.

"Well slut," I said, "the rules are simple. I say it and you do it. Understood?"

"Yes Sir," she said emphatically.

"Now," I said as I pushed her to her knees. "You may begin by worshipping my cock properly as all good sluts should."

My cock was hard by this point, due to having her naked in my presence, and I thrust it down her throat in a single shot so quick she did not even have time to gag. As I skullfucked her pretty face I was sure to let her know what her proper place was. I called her every name in the book; slut, cunt, cocksucker, whore, bitch, fucktoy, but she thrived on it all the more.

"Slut," I began, "you are going to know well what being my toy means."

I watched the fear in her eyes right before I blindfolded her. Then, taking her firmly on my finger, I led her to the center of the room whereupon, after lowering the chains from the ceiling, I then lubricated her naked and exposed asshole.

Shortly thereafter I inserted the medium-sized butt plug in her lovely pear-shaped ass. Her yelps and moans as I inserted the plug in her were music to my ears, but not nearly as much as her screams when I began my assault on her senses. At first I teased her like Thomas Jane's "Punisher" character in the movies. It is amazing the way the mind works, make someone think that they are being branded and their body will respond as such—even if it never actually occurred. After I'd teased her for a while I then began with the flogger.

Oh, the flogger, what a sensuous and yet dangerous device. I started by letting her feel it slide across her body ever so slowly. God, I love teasing sluts. I guess she expected I'd be light and gentle with her and that is exactly what I wanted her to think.

Suddenly, her screams echoed off of the walls as the first breast started to explode in color when my deerskin flogger landed upon her hardened nipple. I watched her move, and her breasts, as she reacted to the falls of my flogger. From left breast to right and then back I was merciless. Then, just when she thought it couldn't get worse, the first shot landed on her very wet pussy lips.

Damn! You'd think the kind of pain I was inflicting on her would turn her lusts off, or at least down, but somehow the harder I hit the harder she came. How did I get so lucky as to wander into the perfect little pain slut? I don't care. I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

I could not resist further testing her depths of submissiveness. Next I began with the flogger on her lovely asscheeks. One by one, left, right and then back I landed shot after shot upon her. As her ass jiggled and moved her moans, originally from the pain, faded into pure orgasmic bliss. Then, screaming, she released her feminine juices spraying outward like a man cumming.

The scream that slut let loose as she came was enough to deafen me temporarily. I stopped her scream by tongue-fucking her mouth in the most brutal and lustful manner of kiss I could muster. Pulling her to me I let her have a feel of what she was going to get as a reward for pleasing me.

My rampant member she could feel against her skin, albeit through my dark black jeans, but it was large enough for her to gasp at its size. Of course I didn't tell her I was still semi-soft at that point. I was saving my hardness for her slutty mouth, ass, tits and pussy. The look of lust in her eyes, after temporarily removing the blindfold, was indeed beyond measure, especially as it was accompanied by her licking her lips at the same time. She could sense my desire and I knew hers by her wetness.

As I pushed my rubber handled flogger, the one with the bumps on it, into her pussy I could see that she not only was stimulated by it but also enjoyed the degradation that it represented to her as well. Between the vaginal and anal stimulation she was receiving it was tough to see which she liked more. So, of course, increasing the stimulation was mandatory.

Admittedly, when I am in my submissive mood, tens units have never been a big turn-on for me but slut turned out to truly enjoy them. Attaching a set of nipple clamps to slut's breasts, with the teeth exposed, she moved quite a bit. While the blood seeped just a little from her nipples I gave her something else to think about—the tens unit. With the unit I made sure to stimulate every erogenous zone she had one at a time.

Starting at her feel I worked up one side and down the other. As I went I found all of her erogenous zones and, it seemed to me, that some were in the most unusual places like the back of her hands and knees. Once each one of these spots was found I made sure to work hard to stimulate, to tease and to arouse each and every one of them.

Slut loved the degradation and abuse. Lucky for her she'd run into Mr. Deviant himself. My real name is unimportant, but someone obviously went to the trouble of finding it out because, after a very exhausting interview of slut, both for her and me (my poor whip arm was sore from use), I found out that I had been set up. Although it seems more like she set herself up to be used by me (I had to admit I admired her ingenuity and desire).

"Well slut," I said, "I admire your ingenuity, but do you know what you've got yourself into? Do my stories turn you on that much that you'd risk your health? Your very life? After all you only know my stories from online and me from my author pic." I could see her realize her predicament; even through the blindfold it was obvious. Lucky for her I wasn't a psycho! Lucky for me she was smart enough to see what I fictionalized in my stories and what I hadn't.

"Well dear," I intoned deeply and breathlessly, "it is time for us to leave. I have something very special in mind for you."

As I took her down from where she'd been hanging I placed her over my well-muscled shoulders and carried her out to my truck. Now I'd modified my pick up truck a long time ago for car shows, but today those modifications would serve other purposes.

My antique 1950 pickup truck had rounded wheel wells, a flashy paint job with realistic black and purple flames down the side, souped up shocks that could raise and lower from inside the truck while moving and a few other gimmicks not the least of which is a sensory deprivation tank in the truckbed. Yes, a sensory deprivation chamber, the perfect way to relax when on the road.

Sliding back the hidden panel, the one that hid the trigger that brings the chamber up from its hidden compartment, I put slut into the chamber. After lowering the chamber I made sure it was well hidden from prying eyes. Even with someone in it the truck bed still looked normal and could be used as such. Retractable panels came from the sides of the truck, inside the sides of the truck, to cover both the chamber as well as act as a Tourneau cover above it.

The speakers, of which there are several sets, not only make any ride in it enjoyable but, when used for the second purpose—the chamber, put out a series of inaudible tracks designed to work on the subconscious mind. The speaker sets can be used separately or in tandem, which, when they are, I have a set of filters for that appear to be small hearing aids, and actually act as hunter's hearing aids, that allow me to hear everything except for the subliminal tracks.

Now, once I'd set slut into the chamber, bound tightly enough as to not allow any movement at all, attached the virtual reality goggles and began the audio tracks she was set to be fully reprogrammed to my desires and no sound would escape the chamber to hint at what was going on within my truckbed.

Beginning my ride to my cabin in the woods of the Adirondacks of New York I enjoyed every minute of the six and a half hour drive. Of course this trip took a bit longer than that because, after about an hour and in the middle of nowhere, I had to stop to catherize slut and set up the pump that would return her piss to her mouth. This involved plugging her nasal passages so she was forced to breathe through her mouth and thus swallow every drop. Also, I attached an adult swim diaper to her for the other end.

Hours later I arrived at my very secluded cabin on its own private lake in the middle of the Adirondack wilderness. Releasing the panels that hid slut I led her now exceedingly compliant ass to the cabin. She, however, did not enter it. Instead I tied her between the support beams naked (after a short bathroom break in the woods) and left her to the elements while I unloaded my truck.

The rain started, as I surmised it would on the way up, about 2 hours after our arrival. Instead of just watching the satellite television I spent my time between setting up my toys and preparing them for use, watching slut and sitting down to a gourmet meal of fresh mushrooms grown nearby. She barely moved. It was good to see the indoctrination I gave her had taken completely.

After a few hours in the rain her body was very wet and very pliant. I she ever slowly into her ass watching for any sign my size bothered her but even my length and girth were easily accommodated by her at this point.

"Slut," I said, "can you hear me?"

"Yes Master," she said most readily, "How may this slut serve you?"

"Tell me slut," I said, "What are your limits?"

This would be the test. If my chamber worked properly her answer would tell me so.

"None Master," she said demurely as she fell to her knees then all fours, "none at all. Sluts have no limits."

I whistled, and then yelled, "Duke!"

"Duke," I yelled again.

Duke, my loyal best friend, 1 of a litter of 5 golden retrievers I had, rounded the corner at full speed. He is the best trained of the lot and he runs around the property free all the time as a result.

"Suck him off," I said.

I had no intention for her to actually do it, just to test her I told her to though. She immediately crawled to him, gripped him ever so gently and began to lower her face to his cock.

"Stop!" I intoned firmly.

She froze.

"Release him and suck me off instead," I ordered, "and do not stop until you have drunk every drop of cum from me and licked me clean. Understood?"

"Yes Master," she said with a rather full mouth.

Her tongue snaked its way around the underside of my hard cock as she continued to work her way down it. The suction she created hollowed out her cheeks and was absolutely mind-blowing to me—every nerve in my body seemed to be firing at once. I could feel myself about to have a full-blown seizure (or so it seemed to me at the time). Slowly, tantalizingly so, she bobbed her mouth down and back each time going fractionally deeper than the last. Eventually this now expert fellatrix, thank heaven for good programming, reached the root of my hardness. It was then that she started massaging my love muscle by using only the muscles in her throat.

As I shot deep into her throat I watched intently as she not only showed me that she held all my juices in her mouth, but also swallowed them ever so slowly and not all at once. The old joke is "What is the difference between love, true love and showing off?" The answer, of course is "Spitting, swallowing or gargling." She was definitely well past true love and showing off at the moment.

The froth of cum that covered her lips she licked off slowly as if she was licking the best cream sauce in the world from her lips after a gourmet meal.

Time seemed to pass infinitesimally slowly with her, but pass it did. Eventually, the next day, after an intense night of making love in positions that will need to be added to the Kama Sutra, arrived. Awakening at nearly 10 am I dragged her out to the lake whereupon I tied her naked, well used and abused body between two large oak trees, not that I needed to at this point as her programming made it so that every time she swallowed anything or made love she became more submissive, more slutty and less able to think for herself.

Today there was to be no blindfold for I had a surprise for her. The annual hot air balloon race for one of the local towns was going on and their course would take them right over my private lake. Surely anyone with a bad programming would complain about the public exposure unless they were an exhibitionist.

You could easily see my slut from above, but a few had binoculars nonetheless. They watched closely as I began to lash her with a set of freshly cut saplings. The sound they made was minimal but the sounds of her pain mixes with the orgasms she was having as a result of the pain was extremely loud.

Slut had been, up to about the 20th lash, quiet but when one of the balloonists yelled down to stop, that he'd call the cops, she finally spoke. What she said was not to the balloonist however. "Master harder," she finally screamed at me.

I obliged.

It was not tough to see her joy in the whipping she was getting, she was the rarest of the rare—a squirter, as evidenced by the wet spot on the ground several feet from her. As she shot across the ground one could easily hear the cheering coming from the people overhead as well as see their reactions.

Being the consummate professional I simply ignored the balloonists although I am sure more than a few cameras were busy photographing the scene below them. The stripes on her back, thighs and breasts were a nice symmetrical set of marks in each place and a lovely shade of bright red indeed. Indeed it was stripes of bright crimson red blood but each stripe she took almost as a badge of courage and honor.

Goddess, I just love pain sluts, send me more!!