A Day with a Female Bondage Cult

A Day with a Female Bondage Cult

Thank you for opening my story. In deciding to write it, entirely on Easter Sunday, I was challenged rather than inspired by an anonymous gentleperson who commented that my last publication-

Sex-Slavery in a Warm Climate-

was too long, being about 13,300 words. I decided to see whether I could write something very much shorter, and this one has fewer than 3,000 words. It is not

War and Peace

, but I hope that you'll find it a quick and titillating read. I look forward to your views: if it is well received it could be the beginning of a series.

***

As Rupert regained consciousness, he did not regain his eyesight, or his freedom of movement. He was mounted in some kind of frame, spread out in an "X" shape, and he could feel the irons on his wrists and ankles. He knew that the steel bars were there from the sound made when he pulled at the restraints. He was not chained directly to a bed or a table.

His blindless led to a moment of panic, but he soon realized that there was a presence in his eyes; probably opaque contacts that covered the surface of his eyeballs. There was another surprise: his penis was erect. It was not just the mild arousal that he often felt when he woke up, but a throbbing hard-on that cried out for a vigorous wanking. He could feel it swaying when he struggled. Then he felt a hand touch it, and he went still, not knowing whether he should be terrified or hopeful. A soft, female voice spoke to him.

"You're a pretty boy, if a shy one. We've made it easy for you. You'll find that you can't speak, and you've been given something to keep you hard until you go home. At the end of your service you'll get your eyesight and your voice back. You won't be harmed."

The fingers of what he assumed was her other hand stroked his lips lightly. "There's one rule," she went on. We'll be using your mouth, so it has to be uncovered. You must not bite. If you hurt anyone, you'll be tortured. If you harm anyone seriously, you'll be sold as an experimental animal. If you relax and behave yourself, you'll enjoy twenty-four hours of intense and varied sexual pleasure."

It sounded very much like an offer that he couldn't refuse, so when the fingers probed between his lips and pushed deep into his mouth, he sucked and licked them, as he assumed he was supposed to do. The other hand was now wrapped around his penis, stroking it without stretching the skin, so there was no danger of an immediate ejaculation. She kept him simmering for a few minutes, occasionally reaching below with one or two fingers to caress his testicles.

Her fingers remained in his mouth. "I'm glad that you've decided to play nice," he heard her say. "I think it's time to mount you."

He felt her moving over him as she climbed onto the surface on which the frame was resting, and her vulva descended onto his face. He felt no clothing. A virgin in almost every respect, it was his first experience of cunnilingus, of which he had a theoretical knowledge. He could tell that she was in the "reverse cowgirl" position- facing his feet- and she was holding herself open. It was easy to push his tongue into her vagina and move it in and out, although he knew he could not go very deep, or keep it up for long.

He also knew, from his voluminous reading, that she could move her body back and forth to give him access to the parts on which she wanted him to concentrate. He persisted, therefore, until she shifted back a little, placing her clitoris directly over his tongue. He knew enough to avoid the swelling bud at first, licking around it, pressing more firmly as he went on. When he addressed it directly she came quickly, grinding herself down onto his mouth and rocking back and forth, so there were moments when he could hardly breathe.

When she had finished, she made no move to get up, but shifted her body down a little, presenting him with her anus, which she held open. He could not see it, of course, but he knew what it was, and that he was expected both lick it and push his tongue inside. It seemed incredible that he was giving analingus to a woman whose name he didn't know, and whose face he hadn't seen, but by tugging on his chains he reminded himself that the normal rules had been suspended.

He could hear her breathing heavily, and after a few minutes she shifted her body back up his face, clearly expecting a repeat performance. As he applied himself, he felt another presence on his body, and another pussy descended on his penis, with another hand to guide it inside. He almost had the sense now that he was floating in limbo, with other bodies moving silently around him, Were there only two women? Were there any men? Were there any other bodies chained for their pleasure? Probably, it was just a room with a very thick carpet, but the situation encouraged his imagination to work overtime.

Soon, Rupert became conscious that the two women were leaning together, probably kissing and fondling one another's breasts. An avid consumer of pornography, he could easily extrapolate from what little he could feel and hear. He felt a certain disappointment, as he had imagined his first vaginal sex as something intense and memorable. Instead, he was being casually used, like a warm dildo, and he could not allow himself to concentrate on the sensations in his penis. If he came and let himself be overwhelmed by his orgasm, he might gnash his teeth on the soft membranes of the first woman's quim. Then the vivisectionists would be welcoming him to their laboratory.

In the end he weathered the storm easily enough. As he spurted, he pouted his lips firmly keep his teeth covered, He was very concerned to feel no sign of an orgasm from the second woman. Would he be punished for premature ejaculation? The real surprise was that he remained as hard as ever afterwards. He squirmed through a period of extreme sensitivity, but his rider did not hesitate or show any awareness of that. She simply rode him until, a few minutes later, she enjoyed the first of several climaxes.

From the feel of the two bodies leaning towards one another, Rupert was aware that they were kissing as they dismounted him, but they paid him no attention at all. He was simply a tool that they had used for their pleasure, and they were soon replaced by two more women. He could tell that they were different. The one who impaled herself on his penis was heavier, and the one on his mouth- in the forward cowgirl this time- had used a different shower gel. She turned around after her first orgasm, so the kissing resumed.

Rupert had very little idea how he had got into his present situation. He was twenty years old, but had virtually no friends, and certainly no girlfriends. A deeply shy, introspective individual, he spent his time on the internet, reading, writing, and viewing pornography. His view of the world was not unrealistic, and he was fully aware that the scenarios that he watched were never going to happen in real life. That contributed to his conviction that he would spend his life alone.

Rupert had no need to earn a living, as his parents had died in an accident, leaving him with property, shares and a large insurance payout. He had plenty of time to indulge his interests. For exercise, he took long, solitary walks in the country, using one of the very latest mobile phones for a camera and posting pictures on various Facebook groups.

It was on one of those walks that, while exploring some ruined farm buildings, he had been shot with a tranquillizer dart. He was unaware of that, or of the hours that had been spent administering various treatments before he was brought round, now chained in the frame. To him, it was almost as if he had stepped through some kind of fissure in space and time.

The effect was heightened by his bondage, for the wrist and ankle irons fitted so well that he could hardly feel them, and as he was lying on a comfortably padded but firm surface, there was very little strain on his arms or shoulders. He had given up trying to struggle, and was not one of those people who fight their bonds during orgasms. The notion of being suspended in space was encouraged by the near-silence, but he felt a little more grounded when the second pair of women both kissed him before they departed.

At what he presumed to be lunchtime, Rupert was given water to drink, piped carefully into his mouth, and some strange pellets of something like compressed cereal. They were popped into his mouth without a word, and he never felt anything but fingertips. Afterwards, he was kissed by a pair of full, soft lips, and without any rational reason, he jumped to the conclusion that they belonged to a black woman. Not long after that, he felt another mouth- not the same one, he thought- on his penis, and for the first time in his life he was being fellated.

He could tell that he was getting a blowjob from an expert, because as a frequent masturbator he knew what worked. The woman- assuming it was a woman- knew that the tiny bridge of skin between his shaft and his

glans penis

was especially sensitive, and the key to success was to stretch it, tightening her lips as she passed down over and below it. Meanwhile flicked the tip with her tongue and occasionally caressed his balls with her fingers.

He was allowed to concentrate on the fellatio until he ejaculated, feeling his semen being accepted eagerly and the last drops sucked out Then, as he was licked and caressed more gently, large breasts were lowered into his mouth. He found that they were all lactating, and all were withdrawn after an eggcup full of milk had been drawn and swallowed. He thought he could detect slight differences in the taste and fat content, but knew that he might have been imagining that.

Then, suddenly, one of the items to be sucked was not a breast, but a penis. That was a shock, for Rupert had never thought himself gay, or even bisexual. As he had opened his mouth for the next breast, it was deep inside before he could react, and he knew that at all costs he must avoid biting. The male did not ask too much of him; he had no pubic hair and he stopped at the back of his mouth. Rupert tried to imagine a shemale or a trans woman, and managed to treat it as a task, repeating as best he could what had been done by the woman who had fellated him.

It helped that another woman was mounting his erection, but nothing prepared him for the ejaculation, which was much more voluminous than he expected. Did he spew out so much semen? It tasted weird- neither awful nor nice- but he managed to swallow it down. Strangely enough, he found the fact that he was being mouthfucked intensely erotic; so much so that, had he not cum shortly before, he would have done so immediately. That was probably the moment when it dawned on him that he was a born sex-slave. He wanted- needed- to be used, by anyone with a good set of cuffs and chains.

He was used continuously for what he assumed to be the whole afternoon, but there were no more males. During another short break, he was given more water and more food pellets. By that time, his penis was feeling mildly bruised, his lips were slightly sore and his tongue felt weak. He could lick a clitoris, but there was no question of thrusting his tongue deep into a vaginal tunnel, or probing an anus. To his surprise he still felt no soreness from his wrists, shoulders or ankles, but he had not been suspended or stretched even though he was completely helpless.

He was thinking, as he chewed his pellets, that the experience- he could hardly call it an ordeal- must be coming to an end. When he had finished, he was given a straw to suck, and was surprised to taste a very pleasant red wine, so perhaps he was thought worthy of a small reward. He was even more surprised when several strong hands lifted his frame and turned it over, holding it up until some large cushions had been put under him to avoid pushing his head down into the mattress below.

He felt fingers in his bottom, and realized that he was being lubricated prior to penetration, and a minute or two later, he was being sodomized for the first time. It was, of course, a first time for everything, and if he had any regrets about that, they resulted from the lack of any time or respite in which to process his experiences.

The penis in his mouth had been real, but it took only seconds for him to realize that large breasts were bumping against his back. He was being buggered with a strap-on, although it was an unusual type that not only felt very real, but by a complex mechanism stimulated its user's clitoral area. Three women used it, or three examples of it, in quick succession, and Rupert went through several stages. At first the unfamiliar penetration hurt, but as he became more relaxed, it became quite pleasant. Then he started to feel sore, but not before he understood that, with constant use, he would become much more durable.

After that, Rupert was spanked with some kind of paddle. He could not see either that or the bright red bottom that resulted, but it hurt a great deal, probably more than anything he had ever experienced. During the whipping that followed he screamed blue murder, and for the first time he really fought his chains, dragging at them with every ounce of his strength until he was sure that his shoulders would dislocate. They didn't, but he could feel tenderness in them in the days to come, as well as see, in the mirror, the criss-cross pattern of stripes on his back.

He was never told why he had been whipped. He had never had the opportunity to resist, and had willingly accepted everything that had been done to him. A dozen lashes seemed a poor reward for the pleasure he had given to so many people. Presumably, the wielder of the whip was a sadist who had enjoyed flogging him, just as others had enjoyed using his cock, his mouth and his asshole.

He had to accept that being used for physical pleasure was not always enjoyable. The pain was short lived, as a soothing ointment was spread over his back and bottom. It felt only mildly sore when he was turned over again. He had forgotten that his penis was still erect, and now, as a hand grasped it and smeared it with lubricant, he could not for the life of him understand how it had survived the ordeal without going soft, even with the drugs they had given him.

One of the women now sat on his shaft, anally impaling herself. He knew it was a woman because of her voice as she delivered a mini-lecture, occasionally shifting or rising a little. He did his best to concentrate despite the feeling of snug enclosure that he had never experienced before, and the occasional intervention of other women who kissed him or pushed a breast into his mouth.

"You've spent the day as a guest of the Cult of Superior Women, or CSW," she began. All the members are female, but you'll have detected the presence of another male amongst us. He is one of our full-time pleasure slaves. He lives in chains, wholly devoted to serving our sexual needs. Now you'll be taken home, unconscious, and left hogtied on the sofa in your living room. You'll be held with cheap, disposable ice locks and plastic cuffs, and they'll free you after about an hour. By that time, your voice will have been restored. You can keep the restraints, or throw them away, as you prefer. There'll also be some ointment for your back."

That, apparently, was the basic briefing, but she worked his cock for another minute and then carried on. "You must not speak to anyone, ever, about what has transpired here. If you do, we will know, and you will suffer. We hope that won't be necessary, because you've been a great success, and we intend to use you again. As you have no useful function in society, we'll regard you as being at our disposal. Go about your normal life, and we'll take you when we want you. You will know neither the day nor the hour, but don't bother to watch. It will make no difference.

"Think of yourself as living on borrowed time. Sooner or later we'll have a vacancy for a permanent male slave, and then the irons will close over your wrists and ankles, never to be removed, and you will live out your life within these walls. In the meantime, you will avoid making lasting friendships, or enmities for that matter. Live quietly and alone. We will see to it that you remain celibate."

He lost consciousness soon after she had finished, and a few minutes later, when the woman had enjoyed the anal orgasms that he did not know to be possible, he also lost his erection. Before he was taken from the frame, he was locked in a cock cage, just large enough to accommodate the first signs of an erection. It was not cheap plastic, and the lock was the best of its size that money could buy. It would remain in place until they used him again.