The Whip Or The Vibrator Ch 10

Introduction:

This story is inspired by and in tribute to some of the women of this site who go in for the edgier and more extreme kinks and fetishes. I hope they appreciate it.

Brief Recap:

CapCunt and Kit-5 are finally done with The Ladies Shitting Party, Goddess Angelica...and all that shit. It's back to basics for them now: hard, rough use by dominants out to fuck them. But is that enough? Is there still something missing?

Chapter Ten

It had now been a month since The Ladies Shitting Party, and two months since our abduction for a weekend at the Portland Airport. I hadn't reached out to Kit-5 or heard from her in all that time, with the exception of our attendance at The Ladies Shitting Party. In the meantime, I'd busied myself with a few Doms I'd been seeing, and tried out a few more here and there.

The sex was fine, especially when I was allowed to cum, but I was increasingly feeling less and less from these encounters as time went on. There was a restlessness growing inside me. In a sense, it had been there most of my life, certainly throughout the majority of my marriage, from when the bloom wore off and I started feeling frustrated. I'd gotten to the point where the S & M games with the local men I found felt ordinary, just something to pass the time. I had to remind myself that there was a time when just being spanked would have been a life-altering experience. I would have given anything for it.

I started realizing that certain events had been acting as bulwarks against this malaise. The weekends with Kit-5, for instance. I hadn't realized it at the time, but now I finally began to understand...it wasn't just our shared experience and trauma that kept us coming together. We pushed each other, in ways only we could. Goddess Angelica, and her disgusting demands, also pushed my limits. No rational person would have surrendered to a woman like her, to have stayed on their knees while she practiced what for her was the ultimate manifestation of domination.

But I did. I willingly debased myself in that shower whenever I was summoned, and so did Kit-5.

But that was over now. So apparently, were my weekends with Kit-5. The last two had possibly presented us with an insoluble problem...how to push further.

On our last weekend in Portland, Kit-5 had engineered an abduction, and a weekend of cruel subjugation, as we were kept and used by a variety of men against our will. It was all staged of course, but could I have put a stop to it if I'd wanted to? What would have happened if I'd cried out for that? We didn't even have safe words, so what would I have said? It didn't really matter in the end. Both Kit-5 and I were going to go through with it, no matter how rough or unpleasant it seemed.

That probably would have been our final weekend together, if Goddess Angelica hadn't gathered us together with a group of other Mistresses and their slaves for The Ladies Shitting Party on that houseboat on a lake. Once again, Kit-5 and I were pushed far past any rational breaking point as we were used as human toilets for an entire weekend. Neither of us broke.

And now, all that seemed to be in my rearview mirror. I was in a new place in my life, and it didn't seem right. I was coasting. I was coming to the slow realization that I'd been chasing something for the past year, but I didn't know what. Or maybe I did, but just didn't want to admit it.

Life was actually simple compared to this before my divorce. I was unfulfilled, and had a pretty clear vision of what could fulfill me. And one thing was certainly true: I had felt more alive and present in my own life in this last year than I had for I don't know how many years before that. But I wasn't completely present. I was still sleepwalking through parts of it, avoiding truths, avoiding darkness I didn't fully want to embrace. Maybe that was what was behind this feeling of meaninglessness to my sexual trysts. Sure, maybe it was the men I was choosing to spend time with. But maybe, just maybe...it was me.

I arrived home one Saturday night after an evening spent in a hotel room with a married man. As usual, I'd been down for all the things he wanted from me. I was hand-cuffed, gagged, spanked, butt-fucked...all these things that should have ticked off my boxes. Yet, as I walked through my door, I realized I'd basically slept-walked through the whole thing. I didn't even remember the man's name at this point (or his F*t non-de-plume). I had to make it a point to even recall his face. I hadn't come close to cumming. I think I even knew I wasn't going to bother to try before I even got there.

But I needed to cum. Or, I at least felt I should for some reason. What would get me there? What was my go-to? I sat down with my laptop, and went straight to Duke's PornHub account. I hadn't looked at it lately. He'd added to his collection...a lot. There were over 400 video clips in there now. I scrolled through the pages until I finally found the one...mine. My first butt-fucking, in the back of that van in the parking garage of San Francisco International Airport.

I played it. As soon as it started, I was in two places again. I was here on my couch, and there in the van. I remember the terror, of being naked, bound and gagged on that mattress, feeling Kit-5's trembling body next to mine. I remember the feeling of helplessness as Duke positioned himself between my legs. I knew what was happening; I'd seen the bottle of lube passed from Sado-Chick in the passenger seat back to Duke. I'd heard his pants unzipped and pulled down, heard him rubbing his cock. I was finally about to lose my anal cherry, to get my ass fucked for the first time in my life, to finally feel a cock force itself in there...and I did.

It was so scary, and so exciting. I screamed into my gag as he took me. I squirmed and struggled and shook against my bonds and the man on top of me, as he held me down by the sheer weight of his body. With my collar and ankle cuffs chained to the van, it's not like I could do anything anyways. I'd never felt anything like the rough grip of his hand in my hair, pushing my face down into the mattress, while the tip of his cock penetrated my anal ring. I remember the face of Kit-5, just staring at me, with a mix of fear and envy on her gagged face. Sado-Chick's legs were just beyond that, in the passenger seat. She was turned back to watch. I couldn't see Sado-Chick's face from my angle, but I knew her expression was one of excitement, as she filmed my first butt-fucking.

I was hot. I was worked up. I was ready. I closed the laptop. My hands were already down my panties. But not here. Not like this. I realized I needed to pee. I hadn't gone since I'd left the hotel.

I got up off the couch and went to the front door. I turned so my back faced the door, kneeled down, and crouched over so my cheek lay on the floor. I was still dressed in my skirt and blouse from going out, with my makeup on and hair teased. I closed my eyes, and thought of Goddess Angelica. In no time, the peeing started. I emptied myself into my panties, until I was done and they were thoroughly soaked. Still thinking of her, I reached around to pull them off. I made sure to keep my cheek on the floor as I did this. I felt she would have preferred it that way. When I finally got them all the way off past my heels, which was a bit of a feat for me, I brought them up to my face. I took a deep breath, and...stuffed them in my mouth.

That's right, my piss-soaked panties were now gagging me.

I'd never done anything like this before by myself without a command. Being used as a toilet was one thing. There was an element of being forced by another person. But this was a step beyond that, as I'd done it to myself. Once I was properly gagged, I reached back to finger my clit. I started rubbing and fingering back there. I closed my eyes, and went right back to that van.

I came. Hard. And then, after lying there on my knees and cheek, with the taste of my piss and cunt in my mouth, I did it again.

Sunday morning, I woke up late. I got my coffee, sat down on my couch, and opened up the laptop. I looked at flights and my vacation time, and booked a flight for a month from now. Then I went to Duke101's profile on F*t, and typed a simple brief message:

CapCunt to Duke101: I will be arriving at SFO on May 6

th

at 10:30am, at terminal 6.

I stared at that one sentence for what felt like the longest time. And then, I pressed send.

After a jog, a shower and some breakfast, I opened up my laptop. No response. I hadn't really expected any. Then I copied and pasted that sentence, and sent it to Kit-5. Her response came ten minutes later:

Kit-5 to CapCunt: I see.

That was all I ever heard from her.

It was a month later: I emerged from my flight into the terminal. I was now in San Francisco's International Airport. I hadn't heard from Duke at all, and the only two words I'd received from Kit-5 in two months were "I see" in response to informing her of my plans. I was here on an act of faith, expecting that this trip would fulfill some sort of expectation, whatever that was. I was still a little unclear as to what I needed. I just knew I needed something, and this was where it was.

But as I came out of the disembarking section...there she was. Kit-5 stood in the crowd of people gathered to meet the passengers. She looked a little different now...a little older. She had on a smart dark brown skirt and blouse ensemble. It matched her hair. I wondered if she'd maybe completed her Masters. I'd probably never know. We never talked about things like this. She didn't start to walk up to me, like the other people did when they saw the passengers they were waiting for. She stood there, waiting for me to come to her.

As I strolled over to Kit-5, I thought about my reaction and observation of her clothes. And then I remembered that this was only the second time I'd ever seen her clothed in California. I first laid eyes on Kit-5 when she was being stripped in the back of Duke's van while I lay there naked, bound, and gagged. By the time I got a good look at her, she was naked too, and being bound and gagged. We spent the next week naked together, as captive slaves of Duke & Sado-Chick. We slept bundled up to each other in a cage every night. I got very, very used to being naked around her, and being used to her naked body pressed up against mine. We never saw each other clothed until we were dressed in the back of Duke's van a week later in the SFO parking lot, and dropped off. I'd never realized until now how surreal it was for Kit-5 and I to just casually stroll from the parking lot through the airport together, side-by-side, fully clothed, pulling our carry-ons behind us. It was so normal, and so far from the normality we'd accepted over that week on the ranch.

I reached Kit-5. As usual, we didn't say anything. No hugs, no embrace, no asking how your flights were. Our acknowledgement of each other would have been imperceptible to anyone else. But after we had acknowledged each other in our own quiet way, we made our way with our carry-ons to a pair of seats along a wall, looking out on the main thoroughfare, with the gift shops, bars and cafes.

We were there for what felt like quite some time, maybe half an hour, 45 minutes. We checked things on our phones and looked out over the terminal. Kit-5 went and got coffees for us at some point. Two sips were enough for me, but I still appreciated it. Was this all we had flown into San Francisco for? Two sips of coffee?

"It's been a year", Kit-5 said at some point. "A year exactly, to the day. Did you know this?"

"I didn't realize it when I booked my flight", I replied, "but realized it when I looked at the date on the ticket."

And then...there he was. I caught just the barest glimpse of a man who could have been Duke in the crowd down the terminal. He was maybe the fifth or sixth who'd resembled Duke for a quick minute from a distance. He disappeared into the crowd. I was watching intently now for him to re-emerge, closer. I looked at Kit-5. She'd noticed him too. She was watching just as intently. I noticed moisture on her lower lip. She was holding her breath. Then I realized I was holding mine as well.

The man emerged, closer. It was Duke. He was here all right. He steadily walked our way. There was a look of expectation on Kit-5 as he did. I'm sure I had the same look as well. Duke got closer and closer and closer, and then...

...He kept walking. Duke passed us by without even looking at us, or even acknowledging us. As we watched him, he joined a group of people waiting for the passengers from another flight. Apparently, he knew just how to time these things. Within a few minutes, he held up a sign, and a young woman pulled her carry-on over to join him. She was young even by Kit-5's standards. Kit-5 was just over her mid-20's now, staring down 30, and this woman couldn't have been older than 22. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and her clothes indicated she'd come from a colder state than California. After a few words, Duke led her over to a café table. We watched silently as he ordered two lattes and then sat down. We could see our experience playing out all over again. A short conversation between the two of them, a few sips from lattes, exchange of STI forms, the contract examined and signed, and they were off.

Kit-5 and I watched every second as Duke led PonyTail down through the terminal and around the corner. He was leading her to the parking garage. He was leading her to the van. I felt myself releasing a breath I'd been holding this whole time. I was sweating a little too. My heart was beating faster. I looked at Kit-5 as she looked at me. She was sweating a little too. We both started to get up, and then paused. Kit-5 sat back down, giving me permission to go first apparently. I left my carry-on with her, strolled to the restroom, and freshened up as best I could. I splashed some water here and there, wiped where I could, and stared at myself in the mirror, but only for a quick moment. I wasn't ready for that yet.

Once I returned, Kit-5 went off to do the same. I guess we were saving these seats now. We were camped out, for the duration. She looked a bit refreshed when she returned. But our hearts were still beating a little faster than normal. We were on edge, on alert.

I'd calculated in my mind the time it would take for Duke to...to...to "deal" with PonyTail. This was assuming he and Sado-Chick followed their same pattern from a year ago. I was sure they would. It had been so practiced, so skillfully brought off with the assurance of repetition. Nothing had been left to chance. I was putting myself in PonyTail's place, imagining her reactions.

The growing mix of excitement and unease as they winded their way through the parking garage...Her cunt growing wetter as she second-guessed her decision more and more...The ominous feeling from that first sighting of the van...The shock of Sado-Chick popping out from beside the van...The sudden fear as her words were given weight by that Taser...The feeling of disembodiment, of looking down on myself, watching myself be quietly herded into that van without any struggle...The savagery of being stripped, bound, and gagged...The hopelessness of being left alone, in the van, with my thoughts exploding, mixed with the intense arousal, which I couldn't control, couldn't deny...The shock of another woman being herded into the van and stripped beside me, cursing myself for not bothering to realize why there were two collars chained to the floor...The fear and shame as the lube was passed back to Duke, the sound of his pants being unzipped, the feel of his body pressing down on mine, his cock pressing against my asshole, my hair being pulled by a man for the first time...The sound of my screams muffled by my penis-gag...The look in Kit-5's eyes as I was butt-fucked for the very first time, a mixture of fear and desire...the intense emptiness and frustration as I was left there with an asshole full of cum, but wasn't allowed to cum myself...Crying from fear and wanting to cum so bad as the engine started, and the van backed up...And finally, the utter humiliation of releasing a bladder full of piss on that mattress when I just couldn't hold it anymore...But then the relief when Kit-5 pissed all over herself as well. At least I wasn't in this alone.

But PonyTail was in this alone, wasn't she? Or was Duke coming back? For us? Or for another?

Kit-5 nudged me. There he was. Duke101 was walking back down the terminal from the parking garage. The timing seemed about right. I'll bet his latest Internet F*t whore was naked and trussed up in his van now, all alone, shaking and crying into the mattress, and desperately wishing she could reach her stupid cunt.

Our eyes were glued to Duke. He walked calmly, as if her were in no hurry at all, just another person in the airport terminal. Would he pass us by again? Should we do something? Should we at least stand up? But no, he didn't pass us by. Duke walked right up to us. He stood there for a moment, regarding us. I realized he never, ever took those glasses off. I'd never seen his eyes before. He motioned us to stand up. We did.

"Let's go", Duke said quietly, calmly. Then he turned around and started walking. We pulled our carry-ons and started following. We'd gotten about 50 feet down the terminal when I felt a tug on my hand. It was Sado-Chick. My heart skipped a beat. Unlike Duke, she smiled at us. Her eyes looked right through us as she smiled. She knew who we were, had us dead to rights. Somehow, she still really scared me, much more than Duke. She reached for our carry-ons, and took them from us. We watched as she walked them down to the storage lockers. As we resumed the walk to the parking garage, another clue tipped into place. She always accompanied Duke at a distance to these things. She was always the one looking out while Duke made contact.

As predicted, we reached the van. It looked like the same parking spot as the year before, not that I could really tell in this anonymous parking garage. Sado-Chick was right behind us. She opened the door. There was no Taser this time, no threatening words, just an open door. We were both ushered in. As I climbed in, I saw a fresh mattress in the same place...and a young woman bound and gagged on it. So this is what it looked like. She was on her stomach, with her hands cuffed behind her. Her ankles were cuffed together and chained to the floor. She wore a collar that was chained to the other end of the floor. She could barely move like that. She was sweaty, shivering...that mixture of fear and arousal. She wanted this, and didn't want it, just as much as I had and hadn't wanted it a year ago.

PonyTail was so young, and...delicate, and...lithe. Her perky blonde pony tail was so full. She had the proportions of youth, with a nice rounded butt and defined muscles. Probably ran track or played tennis for something. Breasts weren't very big. Kit-5 and I weren't like that. I'd been closer to it at PonyTail's age; Kit-5 had clearly always been a little heavyset. I felt inadequate for a fleeting moment. Kit-5 must have as well. But then I noticed it as I was guided down to the left of PonyTail:

Three collars chained to the floor of the van. Three sets of ankle cuffs on the other end.

The back doors were closed, and Duke and Sado-Chick got to work. This time she participated in the stripping and binding, instead of sitting guard with her Taser. As I was laid down on the Mattress, and felt Duke reach around to undue the buttons of my blouse, I got my first good look at PonyTail's face. She was gagged with a penis-gag. Her eyes were full of fear. She studied me at first, trying to make sense of a middle-aged blonde woman old enough to be her mother being bound and stripped, apparently of her own free will. PonyTail's blonde bangs were plastered against her forehead from sweat. Her cheeks were wet from tears. The confusion in her eyes turned to pleading, as if she were asking me to free her from this, or make it all okay, or...or...the odor of arousal was already in the van, mixed with her sweat and tears. She couldn't help it. I knew the feeling.