Disclaimer: All characters are older than 18 years of age. This is set in a dystopian world, not the real world, and should be only read for enjoyment. This does contain some SM and M/s themes; please move along if they offend you.
When I first saw her, hung like meat with ropes from the ceiling, those dove-gray eyes called out to me. Her lips were stretched obscenely around the red ball; her drool dripped down from her chin and yet she was beautiful. Not for the hideous state of her body, but because that delicate soul refused to dim in her gaze despite her circumstances.
"Oh pretty girl," I crooned to her, stroking a thumb along her pale cheek. "You must have made your Master very angry to bring you here."
She trembled under my touch, pleading silently for relief.
There were the few who preferred to whore out their slaves and "break them in" through the free use rooms, but with this beauty? I suspected that she might fall into the second class of slaves brought here. Those who had incurred the wrath of their Master or Mistress somehow.
"How did you displease him?" I questioned, stroking my hands along her shivering skin.
She shook those bright blonde braids back and forth quickly. A muffled whimper answered my words. Her eyes widened at the shift of my hand from her cheeks. Reaching up to the leather buckle, I gave it a swift tug and let the barrier drop from her lips to the floor.
The string of saliva drizzled slowly as she panted, working her jaw slowly.
I gave her that mercy for just a moment before I used her hair to pull her gaze to mine. "Shall I repeat the question?"
"No Sir," she answered, staring as her pale cheeks blushed deeply. "But I did not displease my Master."
"Then why are you here?" I demanded
"Since the Mistress Raven did not approve of her husband taking a slave, she has condemned me to learn how to please and left me to be punished until she sells me."
I stroked her hair, savoring the light sigh which left her lips parted and eyes closed for a moment. Stepping to the side of her, I continued to pet as I inspected her visually. The use she'd endured, at least that day, did not appear to have harmed her beyond a few raised welts.
A hiss answered the trail of my fingers over the raised line on her belly; a low throaty sound of pleasure followed when I dipped my fingers to those honeyed lower lips.
"Sensitive little slut?" I teased, torturing the little button nestled between the saturated petals as she danced for me.
"Yes Sir," she moaned, head tipped back as her belly tightened.
"All the best sluts are," I murmured, suckling at the tender junction of her neck. She bucked greedily against my strumming fingers. "I wonder if I should give you some relief... or punish you for being so wet."
My hand came down sharply, swatting that pleasured cunt. The sound that she made in response? It had my cock throbbing. Her body rocked, begged for more stimulation, anything to ease the maddening lust that was being inflicted on her.
"Please, Sir...more," she panted.
Wrapping her breasts in my fingers, I squeezed and tugged upward until she stood on tiptoe. Then a heavy slap to both brought her back down with a shudder as I eyed the instruments in the room.
The single tail's long flick could brand me in her memory, but it felt too harsh for such pale skin. The long-tailed flogger would paint her pink easily; the crop's concentrated bursts could make her explode with just the right application. No, the gleaming line of the cane caught my eye instead.
"Do you know how to please, slut?" I asked as I stepped around her to pluck the cane off the wall. "Can you endure a Master's will and your own desire?"
Over to the table for her, legs spread wide and shackled as her chin narrowly rested against the padded flat top. I bound her arms over the edge to the floor far below, stretching her out and leaving her exposed. My cane pressed between her lips as I gave order to hold it while I found the final pieces I needed for her torment.
