The Trials Of Francesca Finale

Francesca lies on her back, strapped in the gyno chair, legs spread wide and exposing her glistening sex.

The three men -- the two strangers and her Master, all now undressed to just their underwear, stand in front of her, their lustful gazes lingering on every part of her body: her full breasts, her smooth, long legs. The soft, pink-colour slit between her legs, looking dewy and ready for use. She is completely naked, completely theirs.

'Right,' her Master says. 'Let's begin.'

To the right of the chair there is a metal trolley with an array of tools and toys, as though they were exhibits in some morbid sex museum. Before she climbed into the chair, Francesca glanced at the trolley, only to better understand what may be in store for her. She noticed a dildo -- a disturbingly realistic one, imitating all the skin folds and veins of a real penis; in fact, the only thing not realistic about it was its size. Francesca swallowed hard and wondered how that thing would ever fit inside her. Next to the dildo, there were other, more mechanical looking: a small smooth one that usually went by the name bullet, a see-through glass dildo with round nodules placed along its length in equal intervals but increasing in size. One that was rubbery and ribbed, one that looked metallic and sharp. Next to the dildos, there was a machine which Francesca recognised as some kind of electro stimulation. Next to that, a whole array of gynaecological instruments, including two speculums.

She had never experienced medical play before. One time, a few years earlier, her Master had asked her to submit to an examination by a doctor especially approved for that purpose, but she declined. She didn't feel ready for anyone to touch her other than the man she belonged to.

But tonight -- tonight she's ready.

One of the men steps forward and runs his hand down her smooth thigh. 'Very nice,' he says. 'Let's see how you like this.'

With one swift movement, he grabs her by the hips and pulls her further down on the chair, bringing her exposed sex closer to his crotch, and then he pulls out his cock and pushes it straight into her, with a word of ceremony. Francesca gasps in shock and pleasure. All night she's been waiting for this. Her Master laughs at the sound she makes.

'We seem to be liking this, don't we, sub?'

'She's not just a sub,' the man says, thrusting hard into her, 'she's a slut. Only a slut lets herself get used like this, by complete strangers, while her lover is watching.'

Her Master nods and laughs again. 'Slut indeed,' he says.

The man doubles down in his efforts. Francesca can feel his weight ramming into her, one two three, she thinks he might knock her off the chair if she wasn't strapped in with cable ties connecting each of her limbs to the metal structure.

'What are you?' the man demands.

'A slut,' she whispers.

'What? I can't hear you. Say it loud.'

She looks at her Master, with uncertainty. Does he really want her to say this word, to these strangers? Isn't it enough that they possess her body?

But he nods encouragingly. 'It's fine. Say it, baby.'

'I'm a slut,' she says, more bravely this time.

'That's right, you're a slut.' The man thrusts and moans and closes his eyes. Francesca can see inside his mouth. She's glad he's not trying to kiss her, but his cock feels solid and warm and pleasurable inside her. The position she's in allows him unrestricted access -- a perfect angle. She can feel her pleasure starting to stack up into a recognisable shape, a wave, a big wave which will at some point peak. She closes her eyes.

Suddenly, she feels a small commotion and looks up again, only to see that the men have swapped. The other man is standing between her legs now, and his shiny, upright cock is pointing straight at her entrance. He rubs it on her sex, then pushes it in, tentatively as if trying something out. She nearly asks him to just do it, so desperate is her desire, but she doesn't want her Master to know how excited she is. He must be able to see her wetness, if nothing else, but she'll try to keep her confession till the last moment, when that wave reaches a crest she can no longer deny.

The man finally, mercifully, penetrates her with one long, smooth movement. Francesca exhales a deep sigh of relief. Here we go.

The monotony of sex used to be something that Francesca dreaded in all her relationships. All men fuck the same, she used to think when reflecting on the hours and nights of what was meant to be passion but was in reality a repetitive scene of her lying down -- or being on top, or being on all fours, the exact position made very little difference to the whole experience -- and the man pumping away at her, seemingly quite unaware that she was even there. Eyes closed, moaning, pumping till the climax, then rolling off and falling asleep within seconds, while she lay in the dark with her used body still trembling with desire, burning with frustration and resentment.

Then she met Master. Then, she learnt, that there was no such thing as monotony with him. More to the point, there was no such thing as monotony in the kind of sex - the kind of ownership -they did. And she was never invisible to him, never just an instrument for his pleasure. Even when used solely for his gratification, he saw her. She was the one he was doing thing to but also the one he was doing things with and for. He saw her, she filled his entire field of vision, she was the centre of everything, even if she was just an object. But she was never a thing. And he never, ever let her go home at the end of the night without having had an orgasm which blew her mind.

So she knows, even as the man is pounding into her with the relentlessness of someone who had clearly paid for sex -- as how else had this deal been arranged, if not through some kind of sale of her body? -- but she knows that her time will come, they'll empty their loads into her stomach and then they'll watch and her Master will take over and it'll be bliss, bliss from here to eternity.

The trolley to the right of the gyno chair and the glint in her Master's eyes guarantee a long night, one she won't forget in a hurry.

She closes her eyes and lets it be, lets it all be.