This is the first chapter of the Conclusion to Rule of Thumb, Part I, which ran some 200 pages. I suspect you can enjoy the Conclusion without reading Part I, but all the fucking and sucking and beating may ring a bit hollow without access to all the deeper insights afforded by the fucking and sucking and beating that occurs in Part I. Oh, and the angst. There's a fair bit of angst in Part I that elevates the story above just all the fucking and sucking and beating. Lord knows, without the angst, both Part 1 and the Conclusion really just amount to a lot of fucking and sucking and beating. So, you really don't want to miss out on the angst.
Please enjoy.
CHAPTER 1: A CHANGE OF PLANS
"Sir, do you have time to speak with me?" Richard looked toward Claire across the plane his lightly cluttered desk. Claire was framed in the study doorway, naked, except for slightly heeled leather sandals. Seeing her unclothed was something that always caught him short, despite his rule that she go naked at all times in his house. Moreover, he'd not heard her enter, so he was doubly arrested by her appearance.
He took a moment to appraise her, while lightly stroking the head of his cock through the thin loose cotton trousers he wore at home. His look was frank and lascivious, with no pretense that her nudity and vulnerability were somehow inconsequential. He noted with approval that her head was titled down, eyes to the floor. Her hands were behind her back each clasping an opposite elbow. Her silver chain collar pressed snugly at her throat. Matching chains graced both her ankles. He knew she carried a matched set around her wrists, all of them fitted with sturdy but unobtrusive free-swinging steel rings. She was routinely bound by wrist and ankles so the rings were a convenient and more elegant means of attaching rope than lacing the rope directly through the bracelets. And clearly, the rings distinguished her chain bracelets from simple jewelry for any who took close notice.
Her tight young breasts pushed proudly from her arched chest, each sporting an assortment of bruises, some fresh, others fading. Similar bruises adorned the front of her thighs and covered the plush velvet flesh of her mons. Claire stood silent, knowing she was being inspected by Master, feeling herself start to flush from the pleasure she always felt when her nakedness was so frankly examined and sexually assessed. The truth was she knew she would give herself freely to any man confident enough to so brazenly appraise her, who would blatantly treat her as something -- not someone -- useful first and foremost as meat to slake his lust. If only all men knew this truth about her. She shivered at the thought of such ... abundance.
Under Master's scrutiny Claire felt her identity sloughing off, peeling away from the throbbing submissive sexual core, her truest self, hungering to be dominated, beaten and used as an outlet for Master's sadistic sexual needs and the object of his manipulative head games. A sense of wholeness and gratitude washed over her as she waited for Richard to acknowledge her presence, waited for him to give her life its next guidance.
"I'm sorry Claire, I didn't hear you come in. I must say, you look more luscious than ever, dear. Come! Stand by me." Keeping her eyes lowered, Claire walked gracefully as she could to stand, thighs slightly parted at her Master's left side as she'd been taught, leaving his dominant right hand free while his left could play idly with her breasts and slit. Not that it mattered in this instance. Richard swiveled his chair to face her frontally. He reached up and tweaked each of her semi-hard nipples gently, noting the complete absence of any move on her part to ward off his intention to hurt her. Instead, there was only a quick intake of breath and the rapid hardening of the nipple flesh, the slight weakening of her legs. He stretched the nipples firmly, tugging upward against resistance of the heavy flesh, then released them. Claire's body swayed, unsteadied by the sudden lack of tension.
Claire had expected the small torture, assumed it would be her breasts, or maybe her clit that he might attack. Any time she entered his presence after some substantial absence, he always administered some form of pain. Her belly clinched as she found herself submitting without hesitation to his casual cruelty, hissing only slightly as he delivered a last tight pinch to the tip of each nub as they slipped from between his thumb and finger. How fast I've come to think of being hurt like this as 'normal.' And not just to expect it! Jesus, I want it!
Warming to the play, Richard next hefted each ripe breast, cradled the whole meat of each tit as though gauging the weight of a sack of coins. He took note of the goose flesh chasing across his young ward's body, saw the legs weaken even further. He lowered her breasts gently, released them, only to reach lower and start to finger her juicing slit with one finger.
"Yes, I have some time." He paused, let his fingers slide through the thick secretions coating her pubes, feeling for the padlocks he knew now shackled her labia. "But before you say more let's join your Mistress in the living room." Claire said nothing, could say nothing as Master's fingers slid against the core of her need, found the first set of rings locking her labia shut and hooked it with one finger. It was all she could do to remain standing as he played with her body. Dimly though, surprise registered that Kay was not taking a bath, as was usual after one of her "visitations". But then Richard tugged sharply on her ring and smiled as Claire stumbled, gasping. He stood, gripping a breast savagely to focus and steady her. He waited for her to work through the shock of sudden pain and then used his grip on her tit meat to turn her sideways. He stepped past and released her breast. But she remained tethered to him by the finger pulling at her slit as he led her from the room.
Rounding into the spacious room he released her and she pulled up short, frozen. Holly Shit! Claire didn't know what to do. There was Kay, arrayed on the spanking bench, legs tied apart to the A-frame legs, torso cinched tight to the padded bench. Her ass and thighs were a mass of red and purple welts. Her breasts hung to either side of the bench. A neat set of fresh red cane tracks ladder-stepped down the side of the one tit Claire could see. She'd obviously just been thoroughly beaten. Her head was cased in her discipline hood, eye holes blocked, mouth hole open. But what had really stopped Claire in her tracks was the thick milky streams of cum oozing from Kay's loose asshole and glistening pussy. The scene was just so fucking hot! That much cum must be from at least two guys, maybe three! God! I love this life! I mean just fuck me! I can walk in a room and ... and there's this hot scene: a woman tied to a bench, beaten, loads of cum dripping from her holes and that's just ... it's just how it rolls around here!
She entered the room fully. Her belly clenched in sympathetic arousal. Her nipples grew painfully hard and she felt her chest flush. Mr. Lester took a seat in the couch and faced his wife's dangling head. Claire walked over and stood beside her Mistress, her hand hovering near her own locked pussy. She felt the heat still pouring off Kay's ass, could smell the sex oozing from her holes and running down her legs. Her own legs weakened and before she knew what she was doing she'd knelt behind Kay's splayed legs. She looked closely at Kay's obscenely slick red holes, at the cum oozing from them, inhaled the mingled scent of sperm and ass and cunt juice. She tore away her gaze to look at Mr. Lester imploringly.
Hoarsely she begged, "Sir, may I please clean Mistress?"
Richard looked at Claire, saw the naked hunger and almost he relented. He wanted to see her face buried deep in his wife's sex, knowing she would try desperately to suck every last bit of cum from both her holes. He wanted to hear Kay's explosive sigh when Claire's tongue made contact with her aching pussy and probed her gaping anus. He felt his lizard stir, grow fatter at the prospect of taking the nubile young slave as she pleasured his beaten, fucked out slut of a wife. But he steeled himself. There would be time for such a pairing. He would see to that. But not now.
"No, Claire. I want her left filthy. It does her good to stew in the aftermath sometimes. Feeling the cum trickle out both holes. It lets her appreciate just how degenerate she's become, or really, how degenerate she's always really been. But there's also this to consider. Is it over? Maybe someone else is on the way? Maybe she's going to want all that goo left in her holes for lubrication." He reached out, grasped the tied slave by her chin, arching her neck to "look" at him, were it not for the leather hood blinding her. "A girl can dream, right Kay?"
"Yes Sir. But I could dream just as well while being cleaned. And Claire would leave as much juice as she took from my holes, wouldn't she Sir?"
Richard chuckled. Still gripping her chin, he laid two swift slaps across Kay's cheeks. She sighed as though he'd just kissed her. Gently, he let her head fall back to its natural angle, dangling over the edge of the bench.