Rendezvous With The Bitch

Rendezvous With The Bitch - Day 1

[FM/F; D/s; bondage; humiliation; blackmail]

Synopsis: This story is the first part of a 5 part assigment written for a
Taskmaster from the BDSM Library Academy. The instructions set for this
assigment were to write a fantasy story about a sexual rendezvous with a real
life person who I despise. The Bitch is just such a person and in this first
part, my attempt to confront her over an affair I believed she was having with
my husband backfires. It starts a bit slowly but progresses through a series of
subtle blackmail scenarios before I am ultimately humiliated.

Dear Sir,

You may already be a little bit acquainted with the person I am about to
fantasize about while performing for you. In one of the entries about her in my
Erotic Stories & Fantasies blog, you might have seen me refer to her as 'The
Bitch' and I will continue to call her by that name throughout this task. I hope
it isn't cheating to use her for this task because I have actually had one or
two fantasies of sexual rendezvous with her in the past and even written a
little along these lines, although I won't be using these for this task. It's
also been more than five years since I saw her and with the benefit of the
intervening time, I may have mellowed (just slightly) in my attitude toward her,
but I think I still have enough antipathy in reserve to properly complete my
assignment for you.

The Bitch and my connection with her can be described simply as this. Back in
1999 my husband started working with her - a job that, at the time, he used to
do from home, so she used to be in my house quite a lot. I took an instant
dislike to her. It was an intuitive thing at first where I was able to clearly
read her thinly veiled intentions to seduce my husband. I should mention right
up front here that this all happened at a time before my husband and I got
involved in the BDSM scene and by extension, polyamorous relationships we
explored with one another's mutual consent. She did end up having a brief fling
with my husband although this was merely a stepping-stone for her toward her
ultimate goal of wrecking our marriage. I'm actually not the jealous type and
believe I could have even accepted a split with my husband, if he genuinely
loved somebody else and if they loved him in return. Sure, it would have hurt me
deeply, but not nearly as much as the thought this woman clearly didn't love my
husband at all. Even in divorce, I think I would have felt more sorry for my
husband than myself if he had fallen for her trap. She had no intention of
marrying him, of course, or even maintaining any sort of relationship with him
if we had separated. All she wanted to do was ruin the good relationship my
husband and I had enjoyed for many years. I guess if anybody was jealous at all,
it wasn't me - it was The Bitch.

I always remember her as a spiteful, nasty woman. Sure, she acted otherwise and
initially treated me with compliments about this, that or the other thing, but
she was totally transparent and insincere. Another thing I could never stand
about her was the way she dressed. It feels a little odd to say this now, since
I happen to enjoy dressing up in 'slutty clothes' from time to time, although I
still won't do it unless it's to go out at night and only then, if we're going
on to the BDSM club afterward. But The Bitch dressed like a slut all the time,
which might not have been so bad if she was twenty years younger. I was actually
slightly jealous of her slender figure, but then she'd never had kids, so I was
at a disadvantage there anyway. There were other things I hated about her. She
claimed she was younger than me (and I'm damn sure she wasn't) and she'd been
briefly married to some old guy when she was still a teenager, undoubtedly
divorcing him after she'd fleeced him of all his money. There's probably a
million other little things I hated about her - her stinky, cheap perfume (I
still can't stand the smell of Charlie perfume to this day because of her) and
her posturing like she knew everything when the truth was, she left school at
fourteen or something and I'm university educated. So, there you have it. The
Bitch.

What is it about her that could ever hold my attention in a fantasy? I think
it's a strangely alluring feeling to imagine what she would do to me if ever she
had the opportunity to treat me as physically bad as she had mentally and
emotionally. She'd certainly be nasty -- that's a given, and so begins my first
fantasy rendezvous with The Bitch.

It's about now I have to close my eyes for a few minutes and conjure a scenario.
I'm not naked or even dressed to arouse anybody, but I don't need to be to begin
slipping into a dreamy place. The image I most remember of The Bitch is the
lop-sided smirk -- a condescending look she always greeted me with whenever she
arrived at my house. She always wore a lot of lycra, either a black bodysuit and
leather jacket or black lycra jeans and a loose fitting top that revealed her
(insignificantly sized) breasts. She stood with her hands on her hips a lot of
the time too, when she wasn't waving them around in theatrical gestures to
emphasize her trivial conversations and make them seem more important than they
were.

The Bitch's shoulder length hair is dyed red, but the black roots of her true
hair color are still evident. Her emerald green eyes sparkle - not a dancing,
happy kind of sparkle but rather an icy glint that fixes me in a stare and
forces me to look away. She's surprised to see me pay her this unexpected visit
at her home, and makes no attempt to hide her disdain of me like she usually
does whenever she comes to my house.

She's wearing a long, almost transparent nightgown and high-heeled fluffy pink
pumps. Her make-up is its usual overdone paste of rouge that accents her strong
cheekbones in such a way as to make them stand out like ripe plums and make her
look almost clownish. Heavy dark eyeliner and mascara add to her slutty
freakishness; her lip-gloss a garish red that taints her nicotine stained teeth.

I've arrived expecting a showdown with her, but she simply eyes me up and down
and laughs. I remain civil in tone and try not to sound like the jealous wife
when I ask whether my husband is inside with her. The Bitch doesn't answer one
way or the other and invites me inside.

In the lounge room I see two half finished glasses of wine sitting on a wooden
coffee table in front of a large sofa. There's an ashtray as well with the butt
of a cigarette hastily stubbed out still smoldering in it. A television screen
opposite flickers with what looks to be a porn film, but the sound is turned
down and music is quietly playing on the stereo.

The inside of The Bitch's house is not quite as I imagined it would be. Instead
of a shabby, untidy hovel it's decorated with expensive looking furnishings. The
wallpaper is a subdued floral print; the carpet a cream colored thick pile. The
champagne colored sofa's fabric is embroidered with pattern that contrasts but
blends with the wallpaper; the brass wall fixtures of the lighting glows softly
in harmony with the light refracted through etched glass shades. There is a
paneled glass bookshelf at one end of the room, filled with hard cover books.
None look like they've ever been opened. On the walls are dozens of black and
white photographs framed in elegant, modern frames made of polished silver. I'm
not surprised that they all appear to be pictures of The Bitch with most that
aren't recent 'glamour shots' looking like there were taken of her many years
ago.

The Bitch's face has a smug expression when I finally turn to face her. She
casually strolls past me and flops onto the sofa. I ask again, this time
sounding more determined for an answer, whether my husband is there. The Bitch
laughs to herself and idly lights herself a cigarette from the flame of a gold
cigarette lighter.

"He's not here," she says as she draws a deep lungful of smoke.

I ignore the irritating cloud of smoke she blows out into the room between us
and glance in the direction of a noise I hear come from somewhere at the end of
a hallway out of the lounge room. The urge to take control of the situation and
march down the hallway in search of my husband is strong, but The Bitch and her
indifference to me isn't giving me a strong enough incentive to do so. A brief
stalemate ensues while The Bitch reaches for her wine and sips a mouthful.

She has an expression on her face that suggests she regards me as a joke. A
curiosity even, like she's a cat and I'm a mouse that strayed too far into its
territory.

"He's not here, but you can look for yourself if you like," she says.

I don't believe her and nor do I trust her. My ears try to listen above the
music for any more sounds from the hallway. Her invitation for me to search her
house has caught me by surprise and I'm momentarily paralyzed with the
indecision of what to do next.

"You can look," The Bitch repeats, "but only on my terms."

There's a catch. I knew there would be a catch. I eye her suspiciously as she
sits there, casually smoking her cigarette and sipping her wine.

"What are they?" I ask. I'm afraid to hear the answer because I can sense her
toying with me.

"Simple, really. In fact, if you find your husband here I'll even let you keep
him and never bother you again."

"OK," I agreed. I started to turn on my heel when The Bitch stopped me.

"Not so fast. If I make this promise to you, you'll have to do more than say
OK."

"What?" I asked.

The Bitch said nothing and instead continued to finish her cigarette. Her eyes
were all over me while I nervously waited for her to speak again.

"I will let you search my house room-by-room, starting with this one," she said.

There was clearly no sign of my husband hiding in her lounge room, unless he was
standing behind the drapes, which I imagined would be extremely unlikely. But I
agreed and waited for The Bitch to elaborate.

"For each room you search, if you don't find your husband in it, you are to give
me a piece of your clothing."

I felt my jaw drop momentarily and had to consciously close my mouth again. My
eyes suddenly burned and felt very dry from staring without blinking at The
Bitch.

"The choice is yours," The Bitch smiled. "Of course, if you don't agree to my
terms I will continue to fuck your husband and there won't be a thing you can do
about it."

The Bitch said 'continue to fuck'. The words rang in my ears and confirmed my
worst suspicions. I considered walking out there and then, but I didn't want to
give her the satisfaction of winning like that. If I could just keep my marriage
together long enough, I was sure The Bitch would eventually grow tired of him
and leave us alone.

"OK," I mumbled.

"OK, what?"

"OK!" I said, more emphatically. "You win. I'll play your stupid game if that's
what it takes. And you'll leave us alone? For good?"

"That's what I said," The Bitch grinned. "I know you don't like me, and you
think you're so much better than me, but I'm not a liar."

I was already convinced she was right on two out of three counts, but it was
difficult to openly agree with her last point.

"What?" The Bitch raised one of her pencil-thin, over-plucked eyebrows at me.
"You don't believe me, or what?"

"I believe you," I said. The lie would surely have been clear on my face.

"Good. Well, let's begin then."

I watched as The Bitch rose from the sofa and wandered past me. She made a
grandly exaggerated bow to look beneath the coffee table and then confirmed to
me the obvious. "He's not under here, is he?"

"No," I mumbled. If she was trying to be funny, I had no intention of laughing.
Not even to humor her.

"Behind here?" she asked, holding the drapes and then whipping them open.

"No," I mumbled again.

"Well, he's nowhere in this room then, is he?"

I felt a lump of nerves tighten in the back of my throat as The Bitch stood in
front of me. She snapped her fingers impatiently and nonchalantly told me to
remove my shoes. It occurred to me I was only wearing enough items of clothing
to look in five more rooms but I remained confident of finding my husband in one
of them.

After I slipped off my shoes, I started to walk in the direction of the hallway.

"Just a minute," The Bitch called me to stop. "You haven't looked over here
yet."

There was no dividing wall between the lounge and dining area but The Bitch
clearly was going to count it as a separate room. Her dining table was made of
solid glass on a marble pedestal bass and I could see from where I was standing
there was no sign whatsoever of my husband being over there. The Bitch insisted
I continue the charade and by the time I'd followed her through the motions of
looking through the dining room and the adjacent kitchen, I was down to my bra
and panties.

The Bitch led me over to the hallway and stopped me from marching straight to
the door at the end of it which I assumed would be the master bedroom.

"This room first," she said.

The first bedroom on the right hand side of the hallway was completely empty
except an ironing board and a small sewing desk. I didn't even need to look in
the clothes cupboard because its door was open and there wasn't anything in it
except for a few black dresses and leather jackets suspended there on thick
wooden hangers.

Things started to feel decidedly grim after I surrendered my bra to The Bitch. I
felt especially embarrassed by her crude comments about my breasts and the way
my nipples had visibly swollen to become tense and erect.

I followed her the short distance from the first bedroom to the second, also on
the right side of the hallway.

"This is getting interesting," The Bitch smirked.

I refused to give her the satisfaction of a response.

"There's still one more bedroom after this one and your husband might not be in
either," she said. "What do you want to do? I mean, if he's not in this one, you
won't have anything else to trade, will you?"

"No," I said softly and solemnly.

"It's your choice, of course. I should probably tell you I don't intend
returning your clothes if you don't find him."

I shot a worried look at The Bitch.

"If he is here, you can have them all back, but if he's not ... Should I have
told you this earlier?" The Bitch laughed.

I couldn't speak. My knees suddenly felt weak and a rush of dread washed over my
body, leaving a trail of cold, numbed skin in its wake.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" she asked.

There was a distinct noise of movement in the last bedroom to convince me I was
close to finding my husband. But first I would have to check the second bedroom
and then surrender my panties. My hand trembled as it reached for the cold,
white porcelain doorknob.

The room was, as I half-expected, just a bedroom. It was larger than the first,
neat and tidy and with a queen-sized mattress ensemble filling most of it. The
mirrored built-in wardrobe was filled with more of The Bitches clothes as well
as a large number of high-heeled shoes and boots.

"Not here either, hmm?" she said.

"No," I mumbled, put my head down and tried to sneak past her back into the
hallway.

"Not so fast," she said. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

I slipped quickly out of my panties and reluctantly handed them over to The
Bitch.

"These feel a little damp!" she suddenly laughed and held my panties up to her
nose to sniff them.

There was no way to hide the thorough shame stomach-turning disgust I felt
caused by her perverse and honest taunt.

"You've had your fun," I whispered. My voice became choked up in my throat. I
couldn't bear to face The Bitch.

"Are you ready to look in bedroom number three?" she asked.

I nodded my head and mumbled 'yes'.

"Good, but we have a little problem here, don't we?"

"We do?" I asked, again feeling crushed by the gravity of the situation.

"Yes. What if I let you look in the next room and you don't find your husband in
it?"

I shrugged without committing to any answer. There was a long and terribly
anxious moment for me to wait before The Bitch offered me what she obviously
thought was a helpful suggestion.

"I'll tell you what," she said.

I listened silently as The Bitch spoke slowly and without the slightest hint of
offering me any other option. It would be either this, or face the dreadful
prospect of driving all the way back home across town, completely naked and in
the knowledge I would likely lose my husband forever to this horrible, nasty,
conniving bitch.

"There is a man in my bedroom and it might even be your husband."

My hopes lifted, but only slightly.

"How well do you think you know him?" The Bitch asked. "Your husband. Do you
think you'd be able to recognize him if you were blindfolded?"

This was certainly a trick question, but I believed I could. The Bitch's
assertion that she could recognize him that way was all it took for me to agree
to the blindfold.

I shivered as The Bitch blindfolded me with the satin sash of her nightgown. She
tied it tight and then told me to wait a moment, which I did and used the time
to let my eyes become accustomed to the darkness.

"Now, you're not to say anything when I take you in there. OK?"

"Yes," I replied.

"And you're not allowed to remove the blindfold either. OK?"

The Bitch's voice sounded like it was now in a different part of the room but I
agreed to do as I was told.

"Just to make sure, I'm going to tie your hands behind your back. OK?"

I was less sure about this but in the brief moment I paused to think about it,
The Bitch had already grabbed my wrists and pinned them  behind my back. The
cold steel and ratchet sound of manacles snapping around my wrists caused an
instant sensation of the chill of goose bumps to break out in a rash all over my
naked body.

"I don't have to gag you as well to stop you from saying anything, do I?"

"No!" I said, alarmed that The Bitch might make me completely helpless.

"No," she echoed my response in a more reassuring tone. "Besides, how will you
be able to identify your husband if he can't get his cock in your mouth?"

My heart suddenly leapt to my mouth. The suggestion as well as the sudden and
worrying thought it might not even be my husband in The Bitch's bedroom filled
me with dread.

"What's that?" The Bitch asked.

I couldn't speak and wouldn't, even if I could, vocalize my deepest inner fear.

"Aw, come on!" The Bitch laughed. "You'll get you husband back soon enough."

And with that, The Bitch pinched and twisted my nipples until I yelped at the
pain she caused to the sensitive buds.

"We don't want him to think you're not excited to see him," The Bitch said after
she released her tight grip on my nipples.

They continued to throb as she then guided me out of the second bedroom and
toward the one at the end of the hallway.

"Remember, not a word and do exactly what I say. Or else, no more husband for
you. Understand?"

"Yes," I whispered.

I could hear the door open in front of me and then felt The Bitch gently push me
forward into the room.

"Stop," she said after I'd taken several slow steps. "I'm going to help you sit
on a chair here, but don't be alarmed. It's only a dildo on its seat..."

Before I could say anything in protest, The Bitch had her hands on my shoulders
and she was forcing around to make me sit. The dildo she'd warned me of felt
thick and quite large, but it penetrated me easily and stole my breath. I
struggled and squirmed and felt profoundly humiliated by what she was doing to
me. The chair didn't feel like it had any back to it and was likely just a
stool.

The Bitch's hands were still pressing down on my shoulders when I felt somebody
else in the room coiling a rope around one of my ankles. They felt like the
hands of a man, but I couldn't tell whether or not they belonged to my husband.
I nearly called out but The Bitch interrupted.

"Indulge me here," she said. "You want your husband back all for yourself, don't
you?"

"Yes," I stammered as my ankles were drawn back and bound to the back legs of
the stool.

"Good. Then you won't mind me having one last fuck of his cock," she laughed.

I felt floored by the thought my husband was now going to have sex with The
Bitch right there in the room with me bound and impaled in front of them.

"And remember, not a word from you. Do you hear?"

The Bitch's voice was suddenly hot and close to the side of my face. I felt my
heart miss a beat and turned my face away when she tried to kiss me on the lips.
The horrible, strong scent of her cheap perfume irritated my nose and nearly
made me choke.

I was relieved when I sensed The Bitch moving away from me again - a short-lived
moment of relief which evaporated just as quickly when I felt the dildo packed
in my pussy unexpectedly begin to vibrate and gyrate inside me.

"No reason while you shouldn't have a little fun as well," The Bitch laughed
from across the room.

I gasped and tried to calm my breathing as the dildo came to life in my pussy.
The buzzing was loud and its sounds reverberated through the wooden seat beneath
me to fill the room with its noise. I could also hear a bed squeaking in front
of me somewhere. The Bitch's voice cooed in time with the slow, rhythmic
bed-squeaks.

The sound of their fucking grew louder and more urgent, although I still
couldn't hear anything of the man. Just The Bitch making noises about how good
his cock felt and the bed bouncing. The incessant buzzing inside me and against
my clitoris began to rob me of all my other senses. I nibbled my lower lip at
first to hold back whimpered sound of pleasure that desperately wanted to gush
from my mouth.

"Yeah! Fuck me, baby," The Bitch grunted. "Look at that little slut getting off
over there and fuck me hard!"

It became impossible to hold back any longer and I started to whimper and almost
sob at the intensity of the pleasure.

"That's it, you little slut. Tell everybody how much you want some real cock!"

"I can't!" I wailed between shrieks of tortured delight.

The bed squeaks now sounded frenzied and my body squirmed and thrashed as it
tried to stay in time with them. The Bitch was screaming out the nearness of her
own orgasm and then, after the bed squeaks suddenly stopped, she moaned with the
loudest, most spine-tingling sound of pleasure I'd ever heard.

"Hurry up and cum, slut!" The Bitch said.

I could barely hear her through the fuzzy haze of my reeling thoughts.

"We know you can't hold back. Beg for it! Tell us how much you want to cum!"

The Bitches voice was suddenly close to me.

"Are you ready to cum? Are you!"

"Yes! Oh yes!" I gasped and squealed.

A large, hard cock still disgustingly wet with The Bitch's juices suddenly
plunged into my open mouth. It quickly fucked my face for a few seconds and,
right at that moment when I felt myself about to explode with an orgasm I knew
would knock me senseless, the blindfold was roughly pulled from my head. In that
sudden and unexpected few seconds of shock, when the cock was pulsating and then
flooding my mouth with hot, foul tasting jism and I was myself in the throes of
an sensory-overload orgasm, I looked up and saw the face of The Bitch, beaming
and laughing. Beside her a man I'd never, ever seen before - his face contorted
in a wild grimace of unbridled pleasure as he emptied the last of his spunk into
my mouth and reveled in the sight of me swallowing it all.

[Continued in Rendezvous With The Bitch - Day 2]

Rendezvous With The Bitch - Chapter Two

by kinkabella (c)2005

[FM/F; D/s; bondage; humiliation; spanking; blackmail]

Synopsis: This story is the second part of a 5 part assignment written for a
Taskmaster from the BDSM Library Academy. The instructions set for this
assignment were to write a fantasy story about a sexual rendezvous with a real
life person who I despise. The Bitch is just such a person and in this part, her
torments and humiliations of me slowly escalate.

Rendezvous With The Bitch - Chapter Two

The Bitch's male friend withdrew his cock from my mouth and used it to briefly
wipe away some of his spent cum that had overflowed my mouth.

"Swallow it!" The Bitch said when I hesitated at opening my mouth again for the
stranger's cock.

I took the tip of his cock into my mouth again and reluctantly sucked his cock
as dry as I could make it. The Bitch then had him untie my ankles and I was
allowed to straighten my legs (a relief) and lift myself off the large dildo I
was sitting on (bigger relief). The lingering salty aftertaste of the man's cum
was still strong in my mouth and at the back of my throat.

"May I have a glass of water?" I asked.

"What for?" The Bitch replied. "You've just had a drink. The only thing sluts
like you get to drink in my house is cum, so get used to it."

I almost wanted to cry and I could feel tears burning to escape from my eyes,
but they refused to flow. The Bitch had my chin gripped tightly between her
thumb and forefinger and she pulled my face close to hers.

"I think you've been keeping a few secrets from me. Haven't you?" she asked.

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I silently shook my head in
denial.

"Oh yes you have," she laughed. "Just because you didn't spit out that cum
doesn't mean you're still that prim and proper lady. Shit! Only sluts drink cum
like you do!"

"I'm not..." I mumbled. The way The Bitch mocked me in her sing-song tone caused
a hot flush to burn my neck, ears and eyes.

"Not what?"

"Not a slut," I whispered. The words were barely audible, even to me.

"Yes you are! You're a naughty, little, cock-sucking slut. That's what you are!"

"Your husband has told me you never suck his cock," The Bitch laughed.

It wasn't true - I had sucked his cock a couple of times, but only when he
forced himself onto me to do it and even then, he'd always stop if I asked. I
was still shaking my head when The Bitch continued to speak.

"I think we should punish you for being a liar as well as a slut," she said.

I glanced nervously around the bedroom. It could almost have been a bedroom in
any Architectural Digest magazine -- a king-sized bed with four ornately turned
wood columns at the four corners and a canopy dominated the space of the large
room, and the wallpaper was a similar subdued, light colored pattern as that in
the lounge room and the drapes were heavy, blood-red velvet with an decorative
plaster pelmet above. However, I could also see lots a collection of whips and
restraints hanging in neatly ordered positions on one of the bedroom walls. The
solid Rosewood bed end itself had what appeared to be headstocks built into its
design. The Bitch squeezed her fingers squeezed tightly again on my chin.

"Are you listening to me, slut? I said, I think we should punish you. Don't
you?"

"Please, you've had your fun," I whimpered.

"Fun?"

"Yes. You know what I mean," I said, not wanting to spell out how violated and
humiliated I felt.

"Well, it's up to you whether I punish you or not. Of course, if you don't
accept your punishment like a big girl, I won't give you back your husband. I'll
keep him - all for myself!"

I couldn't stand the way The Bitch spoke to me, but at the same time I felt a
peculiar sense of deserving of any punishment she might give.

"You choice," she repeated. "Tick, tock. Tick, tock."

"OK!" I finally said - the sound of exasperation clear in my voice. "OK. OK."

"Good. Now, what shall I use to punish that naughty lying ass of yours?"

I watched silently as The Bitch wandered over to her collection of looking whips
and paddles. Eventually, after making sure I watched her contemplate a number of
particularly nasty looking things, she reached down to her bedside table and
picked up a hairbrush. It had a large, oval head and what looked like soft,
natural fiber bristles. Its handle was long and made of the same filigree silver
as the head - an heirloom, maybe, was what I thought.

"Out!" The Bitch said.

Her sharp, crisp command seemed to bypass my brain completely and my feet
immediately stepped quickly toward the open door.

Back in the lounge room, The Bitch settled herself back down on the sofa and
lightly slapped the hairbrush on her thigh.

"Over here," The Bitch said.

She smirked in that way I hated so much and when I refused to approach, her male
friend roughly grabbed my upper arms and almost carried me around the coffee
table in front of her. My arms were still manacled behind my back and I was
defenseless as the man forced me down across The Bitch's lap.

The position trapped me with my face buried into the soft fabric of the seat on
one side of The Bitch, my knees on her other side and my ass thrust defenseless
up over her lap. I'm taller than the sofa is long and so my shins rest against
the arms of the sofa with my feet in the air above that.

"Tie her ankles together," The Bitch said to her male friend. "I don't want the
slut to struggle too much," she added.

I could feel the man's hands and some rope being twined around my ankles. He
bound them tightly with numerous wraps of the rope and by the time he finished
tying it off between my ankles, I felt helplessly bound and unable to move
anything except my hands and feet. I tentatively flapped my feet and tried to
separate my ankles, but the ropes held them tight. The Bitch pushed my hands up
to the middle of my back and then, without any warning whatsoever, slapped one
of my butt cheeks so hard I shrieked.

It felt like a giant bee had just stung my ass. Every nerve ending in my body
instantly flared with a burning sensation - a message which once relayed to my
brain almost overloaded my senses. Again the hairbrush struck, this time on my
other cheek. Strike after stinging strike alternated in quick succession until
my shrieks all blurred into one long, anguished scream.

"Will you do something to shut up this slut," The Bitch said.

Her friend moved in and lifted my head by my hair so he could position himself
next to The Bitch. His cock was already half-erect again and he forced my mouth
onto it.

"No biting. OK?" The Bitch laughed before resuming her savage spanking of my
ass.

I desperately sucked hard on the cock while the punishment continued. It quickly
became impossible to scream or make much noise at all as I concentrated on
swallowing the saliva that flooded my mouth around his stiffening cock. My ass
feels like it's literally on fire, especially in the places where she has laid
one vicious blow on top of another.

When The Bitch did finally stop, she dripped something cold on my ass. The
little bits of whatever it was that fell on the burning area of my ass were
soothing and welcome, however, it quickly became apparent this wasn't The
Bitch's objective. She released her hold on my wrists but her friend made sure I
still couldn't do anything to prevent The Bitch from spreading my butt cheeks
and filling the crack with large amounts of cold, creamy lubricant.

"Does that feel good?" The Bitch asked.

My mouth was still full of cock and all I could manage to do to disagree was
release a long, high-pitched squeal when I felt her press the rounded tip of a
dildo against my slippery anus. When she released her grip that held my cheeks
spread, they settled together and made me acutely aware of the smooth, cold
metal shaft of the dildo The Bitch obviously intended to use to sodomize me.

I desperately wanted to lift my mouth off the man's cock and protest, but he
kept his hand firmly pressed on the back of my head. My struggles became frantic
and sensations of pressure against my resisting sphincter muscle increased.
Then, in what had to be the ultimate embarrassment, I felt the greasy shaft
suddenly slip easily past my resistance and violate my ass.

My hands balled into small, tensely held fists as The Bitch slowly inched the
dildo into my ass. I panted and gasped at its advance, struggling to breathe
properly through my nostrils.

"You like it in the ass?" The Bitch asked.

It was impossible to speak and I began to fear I might suffocate if I wasted too
much energy screaming anymore. I remained as passively still as I could and
attempted to relax as best I could while The Bitch slowly penetrated my hole
with more and more of the long, smooth thick shaft of the dildo. Then, just as
it reached that point deep in my bowel where I felt a sudden and sickening
contraction of my stomach, The Bitch began to withdraw it again.

The sensations of it pulling against the inside of my sphincter muscle
completely disturbed the uneasy rhythm of my breathing. It was as if any air I
had in my lungs was being sucked out of my ass, taking my stomach and all of my
innards with it. It was the most disgusting feeling I had ever experienced and
filler me with the terror of a thought that I'm might lose what little control I
felt of my bowel.

My whined protest escalated in volume and intensity in direct relation to the
retreat of the hard, solid shaft past my asshole and butt cheeks. A reflex
action tensed every muscle to try and hold onto the shaft. It was a small relief
when The Bitch had almost drawn the entire length of the dildo out of my ass but
then started to push it back into my ass.

This humiliating torture continued for several minutes until at last, The Bitch
pushed the dildo deep into me and pressed my ass cheeks together with the
instruction I should hold it in.

"Are you enjoying that?" The Bitch asked.

"No!" I mumbled loudly but likely wasn't understood.

"Good!" The Bitch laughed. She slapped my ass with her hand and told her friend
she wanted to get up now.

The two of them then struggled out from under me and helped me to my feet. I
stood unsteadily with my ankles still bound and the dildo packed firmly and
painfully in my ass.

"Stop. Stop talking or I won't let you speak to your husband!" The Bitch said.

The hope that my husband might come to my rescue instantly silenced me and I
watched as The Bitch casually walked over toward the kitchen. Surely, if he saw
what was going on, he'd save me. I expected to see my husband suddenly appear
when The Bitch returned from the kitchen but instead, she held a cordless phone
in her hand.

"I'm going to phone him, and you're free to tell him where you are, if you
like?"

I could tell by the look in The Bitch's eye she had already thought of yet more
ways to humiliate me. She told her friend to lie on his back on the coffee
table, which he did, and he slowly masturbated his cock in a way that appeared
to maintain his solid erection.

"Do you really want him to know where you are?" The Bitch asked.

I nodded, but I wasn't so sure as I had been a second ago.

"Really?"

I nodded again but still couldn't say the word 'yes'.

"That's interesting," The Bitch said as she raised an eyebrow at me and smirked
with that 'cat's bum' look of puzzlement I'd seen do before. "So, let me get
this right. You're going to tell him you're at my place - that you're here
sucking cock and having your ass fucked? That's great! We could all become one
big, happy family! I'd get to fuck both of you whenever I wanted!"

The sound of her raucous laughter made my skin crawl.

"No!" I finally blurted out. "There must be some other way?"

I had no idea what, but I was desperate for some alternative. It was like being
in quicksand and I could see no way out. The Bitch continued to grin at me.

"I know," she said. "Why don't you tell him you're staying the night at a
friend's place. You don't have to tell him it's me."

She winked.

My jaw dropped open but words failed to materialize.

"You could tell him you've had a little bit too much to drink - that it wouldn't
be safe for you to drive and that you'll be home in the morning."

"What if he offers to come collect me?" I asked, already warming to the way out
being suggested but still dreading the prospect of being held over night by The
Bitch.

"Tell him not to bother. Tell him the offer has already been made and it would
be rude of you to turn it down."

"OK," I finally agreed.

"Good. Now, turn around and sit on that cock," The Bitch said matter-of-factly
referring to her friend lying on her coffee table. She was already jabbing one
of her long, false fingernails into the keypad of the phone. "You'd better be
quick. If he answers before you're sitting, I'll talk to him myself."

I immediately struggled to turn and sit. My ass hovered for a moment above his
cock and he used his hands to guide it and my pussy into position. Sitting like
that, sidesaddle on his cock, made me feel light-headed and dizzy all of a
sudden. The sensations of a large, sore fullness in my ass combined with the
largeness of his cock filling my other hole made me short of breath, especially
after he reached around my stomach and pulled me so I was sitting fully on his
cock and with my toes barely able to reach the floor under the coffee table.

"It's ringing," The Bitch whispered.

I expected her to hold the phone so I could talk into it, but she just stood
there listening and waiting.

"Are you two happy there?" she asked.

The man beneath me sighed softly and his hands wandered over my thighs and butt.

"Since you're staying the night, I probably should order a pizza," The Bitch
winked at me. "Hello? I'd like to..."

I stared up at The Bitch while the man's fingers wandered. One hand went in
search of the base of the dildo in my ass while the other pressed between my
thighs.

"They put me on hold, dammit!" The Bitch grumbled and rolled her eyes. "Here.
You order something when they come back on the line."

The Bitch pressed the receiver of the phone onto my right shoulder and forced me
to hold it there while she stripped out of her sheer nylon nightgown. It dropped
silently to the floor.

"Spread your knees for him," The Bitch winked at my tightly clamped thighs
resisting the advances of the man's hand.

I feared what would happen if I obeyed, but I did so anyway. His fingers
immediately went to work, roughly fingering my clit and scooping wetness from my
pussy. A soft whimper escaped from my lips each time his blind probing found its
mark, but there was nobody on the line to hear me. Just the annoying but
perversely serene sounds of some canned classical music playing softly into my
ear.

"It's Friday night. They might be a bit busy," The Bitch said.

The phone clutched in the crook of my neck made it impossible to look away when
The Bitch started caressing herself right in front of me.

"Mmmm... you make me hot, slut," The Bitch cooed as she rubbed her hands in a
sensuous manner all over herself.

I squirmed on the cock in me when his fingers found my clit and pinched it. My
thighs instinctively clamped to hold his hand still and hopefully out of reach
of my sensitive clitty.

"Have they answered yet?" The Bitch asked. Her hands clasped her breasts and she
toyed with the silver rings pierced in her dark nipples.

"Here, give that to me," The Bitch finally said. She grabbed the phone from me
and disconnected the open line. "Are you ready to talk to your husband?"

"Yes," I said, although I realized it was going to be difficult to have any sort
of a conversation while my doubly fucked body was ravished by the man and The
Bitch stood in front of me masturbating and making all sorts of lewd gestures to
me.

Before she dialed the number, The Bitch took a moment to rub the mouthpiece of
the phone up between her legs. After she dialed and pressed the phone under my
ear, my nostrils immediately filled with the pungent aroma of her juices on the
mouthpiece.

The ringing of the phone on the other end of the line became almost hypnotic
with tone and rhythmic tone loud in my ear. The Bitch slowly dropped to her
knees at my feet and she forced my knees widely apart. I desperately wanted to
tell her to stop but I feared the phone would be answered at any second. She
pushed her hands up along the insides of my thighs and dislodged the man's hand
so she could tease my clitty.

I shuddered at the sensation of her long fingernails lightly lifting the hood of
my clit to fully expose it to her view. My husband's voice suddenly came on the
line.

"Hello!" I immediately gasped and bit my lips after I greeted him.

"Hello, where are you?" my husband asked. He sounded concerned.

I had to wait a second to regain my composure enough to continue talking while
The Bitch teased my tingling clit.

"I'm...I'm at Barbara's," I lied and used the name of a friend from work that my
husband would know by name. "She...I...we had a few drinks...I can't drive..."

I heard my husband laugh.

"You're drunk!" he said, obviously mistaking my stammered incoherence for
alcohol impairment.

"No! I mean, yes...not...mmmm...yes, oh, a little..."

My husband's continued laughing at least masked a little bit of my breathless
torment.

"I'll be home...mmm...in a...in the morning!"

I almost let out a yelp when The Bitch tightly pinched my swollen clit with her
fingernails.

"Oh god!" I gasped.

"What?" my husband's laugh suddenly stopped.

"Oh, nothing." I held my breath, bit my lip and closed my eyes as The Bitch
twisted my sensitive clit really hard. "Just...I spilt my drink."

My husband resumed laughing. "OK," he said. "Well, have a good time, and don't
get too drunk, OK? Say 'hi' to Barb for me..."

"Yes, oh yes. Yes!" I was trying to agree with my husband but each time I said
the word, The Bitch pinched my clit.

"I'll..." I was about to say 'see you in the morning' but The Bitch had a
wicked, lecherous expression on her face and she was leaning in between my
spread thighs to get her mouth close to my clit.

"What?" my husband asked. "Are you there? Hello?"

"Yes!" I gasped as The Bitch's tongue flicked onto my clit. "I have to go!"

"OK, see you tomorrow then. Bye. I love you."

It took a moment but eventually I was able to echo his words with "I love you
too."

I frantically tried to signal The Bitch to stop licking my clit and take the
phone away from me so the call could be ended.

"Are you still there?" my husband asked after a long moment.

"Yes!" I replied, now breathless.

"You hang up first," he laughed. I would normally have laughed at the corny game
we used to play when we first started dating, but it was impossible with The
Bitch now sensuously tonguing my clit and playing with my nipples.

The cock I was sitting on remained hard and firm the whole time and even seemed
to grow a little larger when I felt his fingers twist the dildo in my ass and
make it start to vibrate.

"I love you!" I gasped down the line to my husband.

The Bitch glanced up from between my thighs and mouthed the words at me.

"I love you too," my husband replied. The tone of his voice was filled with
affection.

It was clear nobody was going to let me end the call and there was no way for me
to do it alone anyway. Not without dropping the phone completely, but I feared
if I did that, The Bitch might use it as an excuse to reveal to him what was
going on.

"Mmmm!" I moaned softly to myself.

"What?" my husband asked again. There was a playful lilt in his tone that I
recognized - that same playful tone he always used whenever he was away from
home on business and he wanted to 'talk dirty' to me on the phone.

"Mmmmmmm!" I repeated. "I was just thinking about something..."

"About me?" my husband immediately took my cue.

"Yes! Mmmm" I whimpered softly as The Bitch repositioned her arms behind my
thighs so she could push my knees up as well as out further while she hungrily
licked and pleasured me with her tongue.

"What about me?"

There was another long silence with nothing but the sound of my shallow
breathing resounding in my ear. "Your cock!" I gasped. "You cock, in me!"

With that, The Bitch forced me to swivel around on the man's cock and continued
to push back on my knees until I was forced to lie back on his stomach.

My husband began talking dirty to me, giving graphic detail about how he would
use his cock on me. I let him talk and only interrupted with soft moans of
delight - encouragement for him to continue while the man under me vigorously
fucked me pussy and The Bitch's tongue ravished my electrified clit.

I rarely even gave my husband any specific words of encouragement whenever we
played our phone sex game, but I desperately needed to end the call as quickly
as possible and without leaving him hanging on the other end of the line,
potentially to phone back my friend Barbara and find me not with her.

"You cock feels so, so good!" I moaned softly down the line. Mmmm...yes. Yes!"

Each time the man under me bucked up his hips, I felt the vibe in my ass like it
was a second cock fucking me in unison with the first.

My husband encouraged me to continue talking. I could hear a slapping kind of
sound. The source of the noise wasn't immediately obvious, although I suspected
it was the combination of sound - my husband masturbating on the other end of
the phone line, and the man's hips slapping up under my ass as he fucked me
hard.

The sounds quickly intensified to fever pitch. I sensed the cock in me was close
to ejaculating and that my husband's peak was also near. For me, my body felt
like it was crippled by wave after wave of orgasmic delight and I could barely
focus my eyes on the ceiling up between my knees or anything else.

My husband remained quiet for a few moments until eventually, I heard his voice
slightly distant in the background, groan with a soft moan of satisfaction.

A warm sensation flooded my pussy and this was soon followed by a calm stillness
beneath me.

"I have to go," I whispered down the phone once I heard my husband's voice
again. Really! Bye! See you in the morning!"

"Bye!" my husband laughed. I think he might have been about to say something
else, but The Bitch grabbed the phone from my shoulder and ended the call.

Rendezvous With The Bitch - Chapter Three

by kinkabella (c)2005

[FM/F; D/s; bondage; humiliation; blackmail]

Synopsis: This story is part of an assignment written for a Taskmaster from the
BDSM Library Academy. The instructions set for this assignment were to write a
fantasy story about a sexual rendezvous with a real life person who I despise.
The Bitch is just such a person and in this follows my attempt to confront her
over an affair I believed she was having with my husband. It backfires and a
series of subtle blackmail scenarios ensue before I am ultimately humiliated and
enslaved by her.


"Well, this is going to be cozy," The Bitch grinned at me.

I could feel her friend's cock softening in my wet pussy - the walls of my
vagina twitch with involuntarily spasms and ultimately expel his cock. A large
blob of jism that he'd deposited in me immediately followed and trickled into
the crack of my butt. The saltiness of it mildly stung my ass, which was still
packed with the softly buzzing vibrator.

"Let's get her on her knees," The Bitch said.

She grabbed hold of the rope around my ankles and pulled while her friend
struggled a little beneath me and then lifted me onto the floor. The Bitch
kneeled close behind me and whispered in my ear.

"Play with my cunt, slut," she said.

I was repulsed by the idea of touching her. The man stood right in front of me
and waved his flaccid cock under my nose. The scent of my own juices and his cum
had the effect of smelling salts, and I crinkled my nose at the smell. I
reluctantly accepted his cock in my mouth and, aside from the new flavors of
myself now mixed with the prodigious residue of his cum, it was a taste that
already was becoming familiar - sickening, but familiar.

"Hurry up! Get those fingers busy!" The Bitch hissed in my ear.

I immediately started to feel blindly for The Bitch's pussy while I bobbed my
head on her friends cock. His cock in its semi-soft state felt heavier in my
mouth than when it had been fully erect and I was able to take its entire length
into my mouth, right down until his crinkly pubic hairs tickled my nose.

"Come on, slut. You want to please me, don't you?"

The Bitch's voice was hot against my shoulder. I shivered and tried to look back
at her without releasing the cock in my mouth.

"Don't you?"

I nodded.

Her pussy felt so different to my own. The entire area was cleanly shaven and
her skin was soft and smooth. The inner labia were completely unfurled and
distended and seemed to hang down, large and loose. Wetness quickly covered my
fingers as I explored the area.

I closed my eyes and moaned softly at the touch of The Bitch's embrace. She
wrapped her arms completely around me and cupped my breasts in her hands so she
could play with my nipples.

"Do you like being my slave? My fuck toy?" The Bitch purred in my ear.

I nodded slowly and made a little 'uh-huh' noise.

"Here! Don't move your fingers from here!"

The Bitch suddenly grabbed one of my hands and positioned my fingertips so they
were directly on her swollen clitoris.

"Rub! Rub hard, in circles!"

I could feel The Bitch now grinding her pubic mound against the inside of my
wrist as I followed her instructions.

The cock in my mouth showed no signs of swelling any more than it already was,
but I continued to suck it anyway. I felt a strange and perverse satisfaction to
have it in my mouth - like a pacifier that made me feel comfortable and not
think about how much I was arousing The Bitch with my fingers.

"Make me cum! Ooh! Make me cum, slut!"

The Bitch's voice was now shrill and her breathless words were fired with a
staccato rhythm from her mouth. Her fingers gripped my tender nipples really
hard and she twisted and pulled them painfully.

I whimpered around the cock as my nipples were stretched. She pinched so hard, I
almost screamed. My distress clearly aroused The Bitch, who was by now
simulating a fucking motion behind me.

"Yes! Fuck, yes!" The Bitch finally grunted.

The moisture on my fingers instantly became a flood of warm, slipperiness. It
seemed to fill my cupped hand. The Bitch's body went still for a moment and I
could feel her resting her forehead on my shoulder as she recaptured her breath.

"It's going to be a fun night!" The Bitch finally declared as she rose to her
feet again.

She left me on my knees sucking her friend and disappeared back down the hallway
in the direction of her bedroom. When she returned, she had a bundle of things
that she dropped onto the coffee table.

"Don't stop on account of me," The Bitch grinned.

I resumed bobbing my head and tenderly sucking the man's cock. It still didn't
seem to be responding, although he wasn't complaining and even seemed to be
quietly enjoying what I was doing.

"Since you are now my slave, you won't be needing these anymore," The Bitch
said.

I panicked when I felt The Bitch grab my fingers. She held them tight with one
hand and used the other to tease off my engagement ring and wedding band.

"No!" I said, forgetting about the cock and turning my head around to make sure
The Bitch could see how desperate I was not to lose my rings.

She just laughed and, once she had them off my finger, she tried slipping them
onto her own finger. I felt a momentary victory over her when I saw her having
trouble getting my wedding band into her fourth finger and she had to give up,
instead forcing both rings onto her left hand's fifth finger.

"Now that you're my slave, you can wear this," The Bitch said.

I watched as she picked up a thick, stainless steel collar that she then
attached around my neck. The steel was cold and the fit was snug, although it
wasn't so tight it restricted my breathing at all. Once locked in place, she
turned her attention to a number of broad leather cuffs.

"Keep sucking!" The Bitch said.

I reluctantly took the cock into my mouth again and resumed sucking. While I did
this, The Bitch untied my ankles and replaced the rope with two of the leather
cuffs. They felt tight and comfortable. My wrists were also released from the
handcuffs and then cuffed. It was a relief to have some freedom of movement
again, and I shrugged and relaxed my tense shoulders until they stopped aching
as much.

"One more thing," The Bitch said.

My hands immediately rushed to the defense of my ass when she grabbed the base
of the vibrator and unexpectedly pulled it out.

My stretched and sore sphincter muscles had become relaxed around the shaft of
the vibe and the sudden emptiness and burning sensations as it was removed left
my ass throbbing in the same quick tempo of my heartbeat.

"Oh no, please no!" I gasped when I saw The Bitch intended to replace the
vibrator with an obscenely shaped black butt plug.

"Just relax and be a good slave," The Bitch laughed.

My whole body shook with spasms of dread. The tip of the plug was cold against
my hot and throbbing anus. As she pushed, I felt my sphincter stretching again -
its resistance feeble after having been conditioned to accept anything up to the
thickness of the vibe that had just been removed. My butt cheeks spread wider
and wider as the tapered shaft of the plug was forced into my ass. I moaned
loudly and hugged the hairy legs of the man standing in front of me.

"Relax," The Bitch said again.

"I can't!"

"Yes you can. Keep sucking that cock and just relax," The Bitch said softly.
"Stop fighting it."

"I can't!" I wailed again.

"OK," The Bitch said.

She stopped pushing the plug and withdrew it again.

"Keep sucking," The Bitch said casually.

I cautiously resumed sucking but tried to continue watching what The Bitch was
doing behind me. She appeared to have put the plug aside and was now picking
through the diminishing pile of things she had on the table.

The Bitch wrapped leather cuffs around my upper arms and secured them firmly in
place. After this, she held my elbows and told me to raise my hands so her
friend could clip my two wrists cuffs together. He did this and then held my
hands together just under my breasts. I was puzzled by what was going on, and
even more than a little apprehensive, but I remained silent.

A short, medium-sized chain with clips on each end was attached by the Bitch to
one of the cuffs around my upper arms. Once secured, I felt her roughly pulling
back on my arms and the cold chain go taut across my shoulder blades as my upper
arms with secured in place. The position effectively locked my arms in place and
totally immobilized them, leaving just my hands free to wriggle under my
breasts.

"Good!" The Bitch said to herself as she checked everything.

I followed her hands with my eyes and watched as she picked up something that
looked like a very short, squat penis made of black rubber. For a moment, I
thought The Bitch was going to stick it in my ass, but it trailed a number of
thin leather straps that, I discovered to my horror, went around my head and
were used to hold the fat plug in my mouth.

The sickly taste of rubber filled my mouth and burned the back of my throat when
I was forced to swallow the saliva that instantly formed in my mouth around the
gag. I struggled frantically to resist, but it was way too late and without the
use of my hands, it was impossible to defend myself. Once gagged, I felt
completely vulnerable and terrified.

The Bitch grabbed hold of the chain connecting my upper arms and used it like a
handle to lift me to my feet. I bit down hard on the gag and struggled to rise
and eventually managed to stand.

"Wait here," The Bitch said.

I was left standing in the middle of the lounge room, gagged and restrained,
while The Bitch disappeared down the hall and into the second bedroom. Her
friend slumped casually back down on the sofa and reached for the television
remote. The rise in volume drew my attention to the large screen across the
room.

When I arrived earlier in the evening, I had thought there was a porn film
playing, though I hadn't taken a lot of notice. Now, with my full attention on
the screen, I still had the feeling it was some kind of porn film - a kinky porn
film, judging by the sight of large wooden stocks and a variety of other
furnishing that clearly belonged in a dungeon - but the image appeared to be
static and there was no sign of any people in the dungeon. With the volume up
like it was, I could hear some music but there was a lot of distant background
noise. It wasn't anything specific, just a kind of a hissing noise.

The image fixed on the screen mesmerized me. I stood staring at it for a long
while, searching for signs of people or anything that could give me a clue as to
what I was looking at. The Bitch's return interrupted my thoughts.

She was now dressed in a tight-fitting leather mini-skirt and leather
halter-top. The skirt barely covered her ass, which was clearly still bare, and
the tops of her black fishnet stockings stopped just short of the hem of the
skirt. Her boots, glossy with the shine of patent leather, rose above her knee
and the heels added another four inches or more to her height, making her now
taller than me.

"Let's go!" The Bitch said.

She slapped me on my ass and pushed me in the direction of the dining room. Her
friend followed and we passed through the dining room and then through a long,
galley-styled modern kitchen and finally exited out a back door.

A sensor-activated light suddenly illuminated the entire back yard, making me
acutely aware of the close proximity of the neighboring houses and the absence
of any real privacy. I looked around nervously and had no idea what was going to
happen. The Bitch appeared to be completely unconcerned that any of her
neighbors might see me.

A large brick garage with a flat room took up most of the space in the back
corner of the yard. It had spaces for three cars but two of them were bricked
closed. There was a small red sedan parked in the third, and I thought for a
minute The Bitch was going to drive me somewhere. This alarmed me, but not as
much when the realization came the dungeon I had seen on the television back in
the house was located in the closed section of the garage.

The Bitch pushed me inside and over to a small, cleared space near the far wall
of the dungeon. She had me spread my feet widely so she could attach short
chains that were bolted to the floor to my ankle cuffs. I felt very open and
vulnerable, although she turned her attention away from me and casually gave a
few instructions to her male friend.

"Use the house phone and invite a few people over for a party," she said to him.
"Tell them I'm breaking in a new slave tonight and that they don't need to bring
anything - just their cocks."

My stomach suddenly flipped as a rush of anxiety gripped me inside. The way The
Bitch laughed at her own joke was enough to frighten me, but the prospect she
might torture and humiliate me in front of her friends really pushed me over the
edge. My knees developed a tremble that I couldn't control and I suddenly became
acutely aware of a desperate need to pee.

After given her instructions, and after he went off to carry them out, The Bitch
ignored me for a bit longer while she gathered a few things - a small flogger,
something small and shiny, some lube and the big, black plug she had tried to
stick in my ass back inside the house. She also had her cell phone and a
Bluetooth earpiece.

I struggled as she approached.

"You think I should invite your husband as well?" The Bitch asked.

I shook my head frantically and desperately tried to call out 'no' as she placed
the things she had in her hands onto a small table near me. She then turned her
attention to her phone and appeared to be searching for a number - my husband's
phone number.

The Bitch flicked her fringe out of her eye and grinned at me, as she stood
poised with the phone at her ear and waiting for somebody to answer. I watched
helplessly as she casually picked up the flogger and swished it softly against
the side of her boot. The greeting she finally made convinced me she had phoned
my husband - a fact she even confirmed when she held her phone briefly close to
my ear so I could hear his voice.

"Not much. Just having a quiet night at home tonight," The Bitch said.

The one-sided conversation I could hear then continued with The Bitch making
small talk with my husband. As she spoke, she walked around me and started
whipping me with her flogger. It had many long, thin, knotted strands of leather
that bit deep into my defenseless skin. I shrieked and screamed and twisted my
body this way and that as I tried to evade the stinging blows. My ass, still
sore from the earlier spanking, was lashed repeatedly before she moved around to
face me.

I could tell by the look in The Bitch's eye she intended to now be really cruel
to me. All the while she continued talking blithely with my husband. The first
lash on my tender breasts hurt enough to recoil with a speed that nearly sent me
flying backwards. I struggled to maintain my balance as a second and then third
vicious blow landed on a soft, tender fleshy part of my breasts. A stray frond
landed squarely on one of my nipples and the pain brought tears to my eyes.

"The noise?" The Bitch asked.

She stopped whipping me for a second.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just punishing one of my sluts because she refused to let me
put a butt plug in her ass. You want to hear her scream?"

My husband must have replied in the affirmative because the Bitch removed her
earpiece and put it on mine. I could hear the open line, but not much else. My
husband would have clearly heard the muffled sound of my desperate pleas as The
Bitch stood back eyed my pussy in such a way that I knew it was her intended
target.

I twisted and squirmed as she raised her arm right back, like a ten pin bowler
about to throw down a strike. When the fronds struck my unprotected pussy, I
might have collapsed onto my ass on the floor, but the widely spread position of
my feet only allowed me to half squat and my pussy was still left completely
open to more savage strikes.

The lights in the room caused a kaleidoscope effect in my tears. The Bitch
whipped my pussy several more times and then stopped. When she stood close, she
reached down with her free hand and softly massaged the burning flesh between my
spread legs.

"You want me to whip you some more, or the plug?" The Bitch laughed. "The whip,
or the plug?"

I couldn't answer except with a nod every time she said 'plug'.

"Good. That's what I like to see. An obedient slave."

My eyes followed The Bitch as she put down her flogger and picked up the large
butt plug. She squeezed a large amount of lubricant onto it and then moved
around to stand behind me. I continued to sob and tremble as she then poked the
nozzle of the lube up into the crack of my butt cheeks and squeezed some more
lube there. I felt even more violated by her this time than I had earlier when
she forced the vibrator into my ass. The plug's shaft, as it slowly worked into
me, flared wider and wider until it reached a point where I thought I would
literally split in two. Even my pelvis bone felt like it was going to break but
then, my anal sphincter muscles rapidly began to tighten and I felt the fullness
of the huge plug rush deeper into me.

I could hardly breathe and my nostrils flared as I struggled to draw air through
them. The Bitch seemed satisfied the plug was now secure and she took back the
Bluetooth earpiece from me and continued to chat with my husband.

"Did you hear all that?" she asked.

The Bitch laughed loudly and looked at me.

"Yes!" she laughed again. "Oh yeah! The slut loves it in the ass. I think she's
going to be fun to have around."

Rendezvous With The Bitch - Chapter Four

by kinkabella (c)2005

[FM/F; D/s; BDSM; n/c; bondage; humiliation; blackmail]

The Bitch turned away from me and slowly walked to the other side of her dungeon
so I couldn't hear what else she was saying on the phone to my husband. She
continued speaking with him for several minutes and occasionally looked back at
me. The Bitch even winked at me as if to suggest she was plotting something with
my husband. When she did finally end the call and return to me, she didn't even
hint as to what she and he had spoken about. I couldn't imagine what my husband
would be thinking if he knew what was going on. Surely he'd rescue me?

I thought about this and began to blush. As much as I desperately wanted to be
freed from The Bitch's torments, I didn't want my husband to know what she'd
done to me. Even worse would be the humiliation of him actually seeing me like
this in her dungeon. The guilt sent an involuntary shudder through my body that
in turn made me flex my butt cheeks around the base of the plug. The muscle
spasm caused the plug to feel like it moved slightly, and the pain of this shot
through my frazzled nerve endings.

"Having fun there?" The Bitch laughed at me.

I refused to give any indication of my distress. She had made it abundantly
clear my anguish merely incited her to torture and humiliate me more.

"How is your cunt going then? Is it having fun?"

I instinctively thrust back with my hips to escape the touch of The Bitch's
fingers. She reached out and grabbed a small handful of my pubic hair and pulled
my hips back. I bit down hard on the gag and could feel tears suddenly flood my
eyes when she continued pulling until I was forced to stand on tiptoe.

"Answer the question. Is your cunt having fun?"

I shook my head and tried to convey the desperation for mercy I was feeling.

"Wrong answer!"

The Bitch briefly renewed her grip of my thatch and then lifted me right to the
tips of my toes. I was already nodding my hear now even before she asked again.

"Is your cunt having fun yet?"

The Bitch smirked at me and suddenly released her grip. I could see she had a
small handful of short blonde curls - pubes that had violently been plucked. The
Bitch clapped them off her hands and then returned a hand between my legs.

Every sense I had warned me to keep my pussy away from her hand, but I managed
to stand completely still. This time, a couple of her fingers pressed up and
into my pussy. She wriggled them a bit and then partly withdrew them so she
could cup my pubic mound in her hand.

"Cum for me, slut. Cum for me, right now."

It was an impossible demand. I stared mutely at her and wondered how exactly I
was supposed to do what she wanted.

"Rub your cunt in my hand and cum for me," The Bitch said. "Fuck my hand with
your cunt."

I fought back every inner voice that warned me not to obey and began to slowly
swivel my hips.

"That's it," The Bitch grinned.

The sensations of her warm hand rubbing against my clit were stimulating, but
nowhere near enough to bring me to any real sort of climax. The Bitch ordered me
to rub myself more enthusiastically. I obeyed until I was standing there bucking
my hips frantically as if trying to keep an invisible Hoola-hoop around my
waist. But the more I gyrated, the more the dildo seemed to fuck my ass and
cause much discomfort. My breasts also danced erratically on my chest - a sight
The Bitch remarked on and laughed about.

"Ah! The first guests are arriving!" The Bitch said.

I momentarily froze at the sight of another man return to the dungeon with The
Bitch's male friend.

"My neighbor," The Bitch whispered to me. She then turned to her guest and
invited him to come closer and watch.

"Keep fucking my hand, slut!" The Bitch barked her order at me.

The neighbor's face beamed brightly as he approached. His presence felt doubly
disturbing because he was quite a bit older and could easily have been mistaken
for a kindly old uncle. But he had that look in his eye - the same one The Bitch
and her friend had when they looked at me. A sparkling, excited look.

"This slut is going to cum in my hand," The Bitch informed them.

My face burned deeply.

"She's going to cum just thinking about all the cock she's going to get tonight.
Aren't you, slut?"

I nodded a little bit.

"Say it like you mean it!" The Bitch said.

I squirmed and grinded my pussy harder into her hand while nodding some more.

"Say it, slut!"

The Bitch suddenly grabbed one of my nipples and twisted so hard I screamed.

"Yes! Yes!" I screamed the words as clearly as I could through the gag and
nodded my head vigorously.

"That's better," The Bitch said.

After she released my nipple, it continued to throb painfully and I could see it
had turned an angry shade of red.

"Do you want my neighbor to kiss it better for you?" The Bitch said in a tone
that dripped in childish, false concern.

I nodded anyway.

The old man's whiskers on his chin irritated the sensitive skin around my
tortured nipple when he pressed his face against my breast. He immediately began
nibbling the tender bud with his teeth and caressing it with gentle probes of
his tongue.

The Bitch's friend move in to take my other nipple in his mouth and together,
the two men sucked and nibbled affectionately on my nipples while I continued to
slavishly rub my pussy into The Bitch's hand. I closed my eyes and sighed
softly. It all felt perverse, but at the same time it was impossible to deny
their touch on my nipples was mildly arousing. I felt the old man slip one of
his hands behind me.

He felt my butt cheeks and squeezed the fleshiness of them before moving on to
explore the base of the plug lodged deep in my ass. His touching, especially
when he apparently flicked it a few times, could be felt deep up inside me as if
relayed there through the rubber of the plug. After a moment or two, his hand
traveled further between my legs and his fingers lightly traced the separation
of my inner labia. His fingers slipping inside my pussy caused a tingle, as did
the touch of the other man's hand moving up the inside of my other thigh.

I could feel myself becoming light-headed and dizzy once the second man's
fingers joined the first. Each of them finger fucked me. Sometimes they'd
alternate their strokes while at other times, they'd plunge together and wrestle
for position inside me. All at once, and without warning, I felt the plug press
painfully against my bladder and the dire and urgent need I'd felt earlier
suddenly returned.

Everybody seemed to have hands all over me. My eyes went wide and I stared at
The Bitch. I could feel the pee already rushing from my bladder in search of
release and I clamped my stomach muscles to hold onto it. The alarm also caused
my butt cheeks to tense and the pain of the plug in my ass was so intense, I had
to relax again. The feeling of horror was overwhelming as I felt the first brief
trickle of pee escape.

"What the fuck?" The Bitch roared. "What the fuck do you call this?"

I tried to apologize and beg her to release me so I could go to the bathroom.

"The slut is trying to piss on me!"

The other two men quickly withdrew their hands from my crotch and stopped
sucking my nipples. Both gave me admonishing looks and even sniggered. I quickly
looked at the three faces staring at me and hoped one would recognize my
pleading look and release me. But it wasn't to be.

The Bitch asked her male friend to fetch a stainless steel pail and place it
between my spread legs.

"There you are," The Bitch said smugly. "Piss into that, if you want to piss
anywhere."

Tears again rose in my eyes. I knew I couldn't control myself for much longer
and the pain in my ass caused by trying eroded whatever control I had left. I
tried to regulate the flow at first, and tentatively let free two or three brief
squirts that banged the bottom of the steel pail like it was a drum. Once the
seal had been broken, it became totally impossible to hold back and I stood
there, crushed by a feeling of humiliation as one long, hot jet of pee shot down
into the pail.

Relief wasn't instantaneous, but it did come when my bladder eventually started
to feel empty and relaxed again. The relief of this was the only thing that
stopped me from feeling completely dirty and disgusting. It even managed to
return my frayed nerves to some state of near-normalcy, even after I noticed the
arrival of a few more of The Bitch's guests.

Rendezvous With The Bitch - Chapter Five

by kinkabella (c)2005

[FM+/F; D/s; bondage; humiliation; blackmail]

"You're lucky the guests are arriving, slut, otherwise I'd tip this piss all
over your slutty ass," The Bitch said, referring to the stainless steel pail on
the floor between my spread legs.

I glanced over that the small group of people that had just entered The Bitch's
dungeon. There were three couples who looked to be mid-thirties or so as well as
two unaccompanied men - one young, maybe early twenties, and the other much
older, like The Bitch's neighbor. The older man looked to be the odd one out.
Unlike the others who all wore black leather or, in the case of one of the
women, a short dark green PVC dress, he dressed casually in baggy white cotton
trousers and matching shirt under a brown corduroy jacket. He reminded me of a
professor I once had for classes when I was at university. The group greeted The
Bitch and then moved in close around me.

The Bitch introduced me as her new slave. Her guests all grinned at me as they
listened to The Bitch tell all sorts of lies about me to the point where it
sounded like I had begged her to enslave me. But the most insulting thing of all
was the way she called me a 'cheap slut' and that she - she, of all people! -
intended to educate me and transform me into a 'classy whore'. I couldn't
believe my ears but all of The Bitch's guests nodded their assent and approval.

"First things first," The Bitch said. "She got a cock-gag in her mouth and a
nice big plug in her ass to get her ready for tonight. All she need now is
something to stuff that slutty cunt of hers."

The young guy among the guests volunteered to fuck me, but The Bitch had other
ideas. I watched as she sauntered over to a storage locker in the dungeon and
take out a very large, dark brown colored dildo. As she returned with it I could
see it was modeled on a real cock, including the pale pink head and even bumps
and ridges of obscenely crafted veins. The Bitch gently slapped it against the
side of my face for a moment, as if to make me more aware than I already was of
how long and thick the dildo was.

I glanced nervously at the guests watching and then back at The Bitch. She had a
nasty glint in her eye as she lightly traced a line with the tip of the dildo
from my face, down between my breasts and then finally close to my defenseless
pussy. My toes curled up off the floor and my hands balled into small fists as
The Bitch slowly forced the dildo into my pussy. Once she had it fully inserted,
she moved her hand away.

"Don't you let it slip out of your cunt, slut," The Bitch laughed.

The moment she moved her hand away I could feel the shaft suddenly slip and inch
or so. Every attempt to contract my pussy around it threatened to shoot the
dildo out of me. The Bitch waited until almost the entire shaft has slipped out
before she pushed it slowly back up into my pussy.

This perverse little game of hers continued with The Bitch fucking me a little
bit with the dildo each time she pushed it back inside me.

"She what I mean?" The Bitch asked her guests. "The Slut's cunt is so wet she
can't get enough of this!"

I closed my eyes as a deep blush of shame washed over me.

"Are you wishing this was a real cock?" The Bitch asked.

I knew she was asking me, but I felt too humiliated to open my eyes and answer
her.

"Are you?"

Each time The Bitch asked, she fucked me harder and quicker with the dildo until
I could barely stand it.

"Well, all in good time," she said.

The Bitch fucked me a bit more and then suddenly stopped with the dildo thrust
painfully hard up against my cervix. She directed her neighbor and friend to
disconnect my ankle cuffs from the chains that held my legs spread and told me
to stand straight with my legs together.

I felt relieved that I could finally bring my legs together, but there were also
the perverse sensations of the dildo and butt plug thoroughly filling me,
especially once my thighs came together.

The Bitch told me to stand still like that while she sent her friend to fetch
her another rope so she could hobble my knees together.

"There!" she finally said once she had my knees tied. "Now, let's get this party
started."

The Bitch invited all her guests to make their way to the other end of the
dungeon where they could sit in comfortable chairs while I served them drinks.
It was an impossibly difficult task, trying to walk in the hobble. My hands
remained hitched up under my breasts too, which meant I could only carry one
drink at a time without spilling it, and even then, it was a real challenge to
keep the glasses upright.

When I wasn't serving drinks, The Bitch had me stand next to her chair while she
and her friends chatted casually about all sorts of everyday things. The ongoing
pain caused by the plug in my ass made it difficult to concentrate on what
anybody was saying, but I got the impression all her friends were professional
people and most sounded like they earned more than the combined earnings of my
husband and me. The man in the brown coat was apparently a psychologist and he
seemed particularly interested in my when he wasn't engaged in conversation with
the others. It upset me in a strange way that The Bitch should have these sorts
of people as friends. I mean they were all educated and articulate people, like
me. How could a tramp like The Bitch ever fool people like that into thinking
she was anything at all like them?

Rendezvous With The Bitch - Chapter Six

(c)2002 kinkabella

"I'm ready to see your slave begin her initiation," one of The Bitch's guests
said. There was a consensus from the other guests.

"Sure!" The Bitch smiled. She then looked up to me and said, "Front and center,
slut!"

I hobbled a few steps forward and stood in the middle of the semi-circle
arrangement of seated guests. The Bitch remained sitting in her chair with one
knee crossed over the other while she waited for me to get into position.

"Can you two be dears and get the pew please?" The Bitch asked, directing her
request at two of the three other women present.

They immediately put down their drinks and disappeared somewhere behind me. When
they returned they placed the 'pew' on the floor in front of me. It looked a
little bit like a wooden church pew designed for one person to kneel on. Except,
instead of having a prayer rail, its wooden frame rose up and became a set of
stocks with holes for my head and hands.

On The Bitch's command, the two women helped me down onto my knees and my neck
was locked in place. They then freed my wrists and elbows and forced my hands up
into the holes either side of my head so they too could be locked in place.

"May I?" The Bitch's psychologist-friend asked her permission to remove my gag.

"Go right ahead," The Bitch said.

It was a big relief to finally have the large, vile tasting rubber cock-gag
removed from my mouth. I was told not to speak unless spoken to, but I was
afraid to say anything anyway. The psychologist walked around me and seemed to
be considering his words.

"Imagine you were on one of those reality television programs..."

I followed the man as best I could with my eyes. He stopped behind me, leaned
close, and placed his hands gently on the sides of my head.

"You're in the Big Brother dungeon..."

He tilted my head up slightly to show me a small camera mounted in the corner of
the room.

"There's an audience voting on your fate. They want to see you suck some cock.
Whose cock do you think they'll want to see you suck first? Will it he his?"

Slowly, the psychologist friend of The Bitch turned my head to face each of the
male guests present. My thoughts reeled at the bizarre choice he obviously
wanted me to make. I considered each man in turn and, if I was honest about it,
I had to say 'no' to each until we got to The Bitch's old neighbor. My head was
held while I thought long and hard about my answer. I wasn't able to look
anywhere else except at the old man. He grinned a toothy grin at me and began to
unzip his trousers.

"You think it's him?" the psychologist asked.

My eyes remained transfixed on the old man's crotch as his cock sprang free. It
wasn't an especially large cock, but it was fully erect. The dark red tip of his
cock clearly glistened with early signs of cum he had ready to unleash. My head
nodded slightly.

"You do?"

"Yes..." I whispered.

"Louder..."

"Yes. Him," I said.

The old man's face beamed with a lecherous smirk when he rose from his chair and
stripped his trousers and underwear off his legs.

I tried not to think about the sight of him as he approached. He was still
wearing his shirt and black shoes with short black socks. His legs were long and
his muscles sinewy and showing the manifest signs of his agedness. He walked
right up to me and stood with his erect cock poised close to my lips.

"Open up," the psychologist said.

A sudden rush of panic gripped me and I struggled. I shook my head and felt an
urgent need to beg somebody to help me, but clearly, none were interested in
doing that.

"Open up," the psychologist said again.

His voice remained soft and calm. There was no indication he was trying to
cajole me into obeying and neither did he sound threatening at all. In fact, he
spoke with the kind of patience that made me fear him all the more. I still
wanted to struggle, but I realized it would be futile as well.

"Good," he said in a flat tone when I opened my mouth and accepted the tip of
the old man's cock in my mouth.

"There's no need to be ashamed," he continued. "It is your station in life to
give pleasure."

I tried to glance up at the psychologist to see whether or not he was joking. I
suspected he wasn't.

The old man held up the front of his shirt so everybody could watch as he slowly
fucked my face. Where the gag had tasted of the putrid rubber compound it was
made from, the old man's cock tasted almost sweet. There was a distinct and
familiar saltiness to it, but the accompanying musky flavor mixed with my saliva
felt strangely cleansing as I swallowed.

"That's it. Close your eyes and enjoy yourself," the psychologist.

I hadn't even been aware my eyes were closed, but I kept them shut and continued
to explore the shape and texture of the old man's cock with my tongue.

The psychologist's voice continued to speak softly - hypnotically, almost. "Take
it slowly. There's no need to rush," he said.

It occurred to me that I started to whimper quietly as I sucked. My hands felt
trapped and useless to assist and so all I had available to pleasure the old man
was my mouth. He seemed to enjoy fucking my face and I began to feel the gentle
bumps of his thighs against the stocks as he jerked his cock rhythmically into
my mouth.

Every now and then I opened my eyes and glanced over in the direction of The
Bitch. She remained sitting in her chair, staring at me with a smug look of
satisfaction, like she considered herself to be the embodiment of The Queen of
Sheeba while I kneeled and sucked old Solomon's cock for her amusement. A sudden
flooding in my mouth caught me by surprise.

The old man's jism gushed for a few seconds and I nearly choked trying to
swallow it. I coughed a little bit and some escaped my lips to trickle down my
chin, but most of his thick, slimy jism went down my throat. I could physically
feel it as it traveled all the way down the inside of my neck. The oozing
sensation with its warmth slowly settled in my stomach.

Once the old man's cock was withdrawn from my mouth, I had a few moments to
rinse the inside of my mouth with saliva. I swallowed hard a number of times to
clear the awful residue of it from my palate and tonsils and then, another of
The Bitch's guests stepped up and waved his cock in readiness to be sucked.

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