Copyright © 2005 All Rights Reserved

Author can be contacted at maleslave@ya.com

 

Second Serving

To the outside world, Tony and his wife, Angela, appear no different from any other happily married couple living in an unremarkable, respectable suburb of a modern city in Britain . No debt collectors call. No ear-splitting, late-night raves pierce the midnight air. No inter-neighbour disputes disrupt the peaceful calm of the street. They leave together for work every weekday promptly at quarter to eight and return together at seven in the evening. They even attend church - occasionally.

However, now and again, Angela likes to dominate Tony and treat him as her slave. Tony enjoys being the slave of his mistress/wife. Whenever they get the opportunity to be mistress and slave, which is not often enough for either of them, Tony submits himself absolutely to her will. He has to go naked for the whole time they are playing their roles. He has to give her sexual pleasure whenever she demands it, in whatever way she specifies. He has to humiliate himself for her pleasure. He has to obey her every command whatever it is. He is punished for every misdemeanour. He is not allowed to have an orgasm without permission - which is never forthcoming until the end of the session, and then only if he has been a ‘good slave,' - and if it would amuse her for him to come. They both love these moments of fantasy play, and they thought they had reached the pinnacle of their sexual happiness. Then came that memorable Saturday in August.

They had managed to get rid of the kids for the weekend so, as always when the kids were not around, they had planned to have a scene. Tony's day started much as usual on such occasions when, at about 7.30, he was rudely awoken from an engrossing dream by being booted out of bed. He awoke abruptly as he landed on the floor.

‘It's time to fetch me a cup of coffee, slave', said Angela.

Tony had gone from sleep to being fully awake in half a second. ‘Yes, mistress', came the automatic, subservient response.

The scene had started. Immediately, Tony's felt his heart begin to thump a little faster and stronger and his mouth dried as that familiar mixture of excitement and dread filled his being and, as always, his cock engorged with the anticipation of events to come. What would his mistress have planned for him today, he wondered? She never discussed the scene in advance as this gave her the option of ‘messing with his mind' as she called it. ‘Mind-fuck' was the term he had seen used on the internet. And right-royally fucked his mind had been on occasions in the past. Angela's excitement also grew as she felt her power over Tony, renewed her knowledge that he would do whatever she desired and that familiar tingling and wetness appeared between her thighs. She had so many degradations planned for today, so many new ideas. Part of her wanted the day to be over already so that she would know how they had turned out but, of course, part of her wanted to delay as much as possible, to savour every moment. Her belly contracted into knots as she wondered what Tony would think of the surprise she had in store? Would he think it went too far, she wondered? Would it ruin the day or would it be the triumph she was hoping for?

Tony went downstairs to make coffee. He was butt naked, of course, but on that Saturday in August the world was warm enough that his nakedness did not cause him to be uncomfortable. The only discomfort came from having to walk around with an unsupported erection, something he had never quite got used to. He could never quite decide whether to walk naturally. If he did, it bobbed up and down continually like one of those nodding dogs you sometimes see in the back of other people's cars, each bob feeling uncomfortably like an unexpected weight had suddenly attached itself to his dick, pulling it towards the floor. Alternatively, if he walked like a teenage girl practising deportment in a finishing school, balancing a pile of books on her head and keeping his head in a perfectly straight horizontal like, his cock didn't bob but remained permanently upright as if he were in some cheap porno film where the aging stars have to use prosthetic implants to avoid flaccidity.

He returned to the bedroom with his mistress's coffee, and a bobbing dick. ‘Your coffee, mistress', he said as he put it down on the bedside table.

‘Did you make yourself one?' she asked Tony.

‘No'.

‘Just as well', she responded, ‘since I didn't give you permission. You can stand at the foot of the bed while I drink my coffee.'

Tony did as he was told and walked to the end of the bed. Angela, watched him for a moment, savouring the control she had over him, relishing the feeling of power, wanting to exercise that power, to see it visibly manifested by experiencing Tony's unquestioning acceptance of her authority. While still lying in bed, she threw off the duvet. She was also naked since both of them always slept like that. Tony now had a good view of his mistress's naked body which she noticed he was happily devouring. Slowly and very lewdly, she spread her legs until it seemed impossible they could open any more. Tony's mouth already felt dry but as he watched the display, which he knew was for him and which he knew was a tease and would not result in any physical pleasure, it reached Gobi desert level.

‘What can you see?' Angela asked.

‘I can see your cunt', replied Tony.

‘Oh dear', she said, with an affected air of disappointment which she was unable to maintain for long because she was delighted by Tony's mistake and a wicked smile grew on her face. ‘You've just earned yourself two punishments, slave. What do you imagine you are going to be punished for?'

‘I'm sorry, mistress, I've no idea,' Tony said truthfully.

‘You've no idea? Oh dear, oh dear. If I were feeling vindictive I could award you another punishment for stupidity. But I am never vindictive, am I, slave?'

Tony knew this was a trick question, but he'd fallen for it once before so he knew the correct answer. ‘No mistress,' he said simply.

‘No, exactly, and I never punish you if you don't know what you are being punished for, do I? The whole point of punishment is to teach you how to behave, isn't it? So I'll explain. Your first misdemeanour was to look at me without permission. I told you to stand at the foot of the bed. I said nothing about looking at my naked body, did I?'

‘No mistress,' Tony replied feeling particularly stupid and humiliated that he was not allowed to admire his wife's body simply because she hadn't explicitly given him permission.

She just loved the way he accepted her explanation without demur. ‘When I want you to look at my body, I'll tell you,' she continued as if to clarify the point. ‘Your second mistake was to fail to eulogise about my cunt. Do I have a nice cunt, slave?'

‘Yes, mistress, you have a wonderful cunt.'

‘Exactly, so you should have said something like, “I can see your most magnificent and beautiful cunt,” instead of which you said, “I can see your cunt,” as if mine were ordinary or uninteresting. That was disrespectful and insulting and far worse than your first misdemeanour. You may expect an especially severe punishment for that, slave, do you understand?'

‘Yes, mistress,' said Tony as his cock stiffened a couple of degrees more at the thought of an especially severe punishment.

‘Good, well you will be punished after breakfast. You'd better go and prepare breakfast while I drink my coffee.'

Tony trotted happily off to prepare breakfast. He felt that the day had really got off to a good start and it looked like being a vintage session. Angela watched him go. It was so exciting to see this man who became a wimp at her hands, one of which moved to that same part of her anatomy that Tony had failed to describe in glowing enough terms, and she seriously thought about masturbating. But then she decided it was better to save it until later. She expected to have many opportunities for more exciting orgasms later on.

It was over breakfast that Angela dropped her bombshell. She was sitting at the kitchen table wearing her outfit - black leather thigh length boots, black leather Basque, back leather sleeves that started at the wrist and went just past the elbow, leaving the hands uncovered. And, in striking contrast, she wore a thin red leather thong that barely covered her crotch but was instead intended to reveal nearly all of it - to keep her slave aroused. She was slowly consuming her toast and coffee, or trying to, which was difficult because she was unusually nervous. Tony, on the other hand, had a bowl of cereal and milk on the floor which he was having to eat without the aid of a spoon. She was enjoying watching him from time to time. Amazingly he had managed not to spill anything on the floor so she would have to forego the pleasure of watching him lick it up. Her belly was still full of butterflies, being very apprehensive about the arrangements she had made, so she decided to get the announcement over and done with. Then, assuming Tony had not rebelled, she would have the possibility of eating her toast and coffee while they were still warm.

‘Slave, listen up! I've been thinking a lot about this slave-mistress thing recently and I've realised that this doesn't really work.' Tony's cock went limp as he contemplated the end of their occasional scenes. ‘Oh, I realise it works fine for you,' she went on. ‘You get to be abused, beaten and sexually frustrated all day long, but I only get intermittent bouts of excitement or pleasure. While you're tied up somewhere waiting for the next round of humiliation or punishment you're probably almost orgasmic with anticipation while I am just bored. And as for when I am whipping you, well, it is mildly amusing but I certainly do not get any direct stimulation from it. Unlike you!' None of this was actually true but she thought she'd delivered her lines in a convincing enough fashion. She paused to let this sink in and forced some toast and coffee down to overcome the urge to continue. She wanted Tony to be in suspense for a little while before clarifying everything. ‘Well, today all that is going to change. Today is going to be much more exciting, for both of us. You're going to be slaving in a completely new way and I'm going to get much more fun than before.'

Tony's cock began to rise again with the knowledge that his wife was not, after all, contemplating an end to their games.

‘Today your slaving will move into a whole new arena. You will be humiliated beyond your worst nightmares. You will suffer at new intensities. Your sexual frustration will break all previous records. And best of all - I'm going to enjoy today as never before. If I don't end the day completely satisfied I shall be most surprised.' She was watching him. She was revelling in his incomprehension and his fear of interrupting to ask for clarification. She tried to imagine the mixture of fear, excitement and curiosity that must be tearing him apart at that very moment. She consumed more toast and coffee. She was pleased that her voice had assumed its normal tone of arrogant authority that always went with her persona of ‘the mistress.' It did not betray her misgivings and unaccustomed lack of confidence that still dogged her, since she had yet to reach the nub of her announcement.

Eventually it was time to put them both out of their misery. ‘I have decided to take a second slave under my wing, so to speak, as I have worked out that this will give me a lot more opportunity to enjoy the day's activities. I let it be known that I was looking for a willing slave and over the last month, unknown to you, I have interviewed those who contacted me. I am pleased to say that there was one who I really think will work out well. The new slave will be arriving here shortly.'

Tony was completely gob-smacked. His jaw fell to his chest. He did not know what to think. For a moment his mind went into overdrive as he tried to imagine the fun to be had with a female slave. Then it crashed back into first gear as Angela's words travelled past that part of his brain that processed his penis and got to the bits that processed language and logic. What did his mistress have planned for two slaves that could not be done with one? She hadn't been explicit - could this new slave be another male rather than a female as he had first imagined? Why was the experience going to be so much more intense as she had strongly implied? Before he could think of anything to say, the door bell rang.

Angela looked at the clock and said, ‘Ah, that will be him. I told him to arrive at 8.30 sharp and I don't think he would be stupid enough to get that wrong on the first day. Go and let him in, slave!'

Tony dutifully got up off the floor and went to the front door. Careful to keep his naked body out of sight behind the solid wooden door, Tony opened it, put his head round the corner and said, ‘Hello, can I help you?' Standing before him was a handsome man about the same height and build as Tony but, whereas Tony was in his early forties, this man standing in front of him could not yet have seen his thirtieth birthday.

‘Hello, I am the new slave,' he said timidly.

Before Tony could answer, Angela, who had by now walked into the hall but had stayed well back and out of sight of anyone who might have been walking past in the street, said, ‘Come on in, slave, this is no time for idle chat!'

The new slave entered the hall and Tony closed the door. Angela was delighted. Tony had not reacted badly, which had been her worst fear. He was obviously surprised, she had seen that clearly in his face, but then she'd seen him experience several different emotions in quick succession, it not being clear to her what they were. She was watching him now. He had totally accepted the situation and there was no hint of an impending revolt.

‘This could get quite confusing', she said. ‘Two slaves both called “Slave.” I think,' she said, turning to Tony, ‘I shall call you “Slave One,” and,' turning to the newcomer, ‘I shall call you “Slave Two.” And just what are you waiting for, Slave Two? I thought I made it perfectly clear at the interview that slaves are not allowed to wear any clothing in my presence from the moment they arrive to the moment they leave. Get them off!' Slave Two looked suitably aghast and dutifully complied with as much haste as he could. ‘You just earned your first punishment, Slave Two. Slave One, clear up the mess in the kitchen then join us in the dungeon.'

Tony and his wife were lucky enough to live in a house with a basement which Tony had fitted out as a first class dungeon. The door to the dungeon was usually kept locked to prevent the children exploring. Today, it was unlocked and Angela descended to the depths, respectfully followed by Slave Two. Tony cleared the breakfast things from the table, and his bowl from the floor, then joined them there.

‘Slave One, secure Slave Two to the hooks,' came the first command.

Tony needed no explanation of what was required. First, leather cuffs were buckled to Slave Two's wrists. In the middle of the room two ropes hung expectantly. They were threaded through pulleys which were fixed to steel hooks in the ceiling. On the ends of the ropes were quick-release clips, the sort mountaineers use, and Tony attached them to the metal rungs that were part of the leather cuffs. Finally, Tony pulled on the rope that emerged from the other end of the pulleys thereby pulling Slave Two's arms towards the ceiling. When Slave Two's body seemed to be well stretched, Tony tied off the rope to a nearby cleat fixed to the wall. Finally, Slave Two's legs were parted by the use of a leg spreader. Angela watched all this with considerable enjoyment. Usually she had to do it all but today she got to watch an attractive male body being stretched out, the muscles going taut, the legs being spread and - she liked this best - the handsome cock rising throbbingly above a cute little ball sack.

‘Well done Slave One. Go and fetch the whips for me', commanded his mistress who walked over to Slave Two and stood in front of him. He was standing remarkably upright and still. If Tony had pulled the rope any tighter, Slave Two's feet would have been off the floor. But she was no longer concerned with the suspension so much as the erection. His cock had become rigidly hard and was pointing towards her face.

‘What have we here?' she teased, gently grasping the cock in front of her. Slave Two let out an involuntary gasp as her fingers lightly stroked along its length. ‘You seem to have forgotten that this is to be your punishment, not a reward.' Slave Two tried to remain silent remembering what Angela had said about slaves not talking out of turn or interrupting or offering opinions and all that. ‘And now dumb insolence to add to the list of your crimes,' she continued. ‘I expect you to respond when I talk to you,' she said, and squeezed his dick hard.

‘Yes mistress, I'm sorry mistress', he replied, hurriedly. She'd confused him. He thought he was only allowed to talk when asked a direct question and he was sure she hadn't done that. Damn, this slave thing was going to be difficult to get the hang of.

‘That's better! And sorry you will be,' she promised.

By now, Tony had returned with the various whips that they had collected over the years. Angela turned to face him.

‘Slave Two has two punishments due to him. I think the first should be with the tawse. Slave One, I want you to pick up the tawse and when I say so, you will administer twenty slaps onto Slave Two's buttocks and thighs. Is that clear?'

‘Yes mistress', Tony replied.

There was one comfortable armchair in the dungeon and she went over and sat in it. From where it was positioned, she had a grandstand view of the proceedings.

‘Start', she said to Tony.

Tony walked round to the side of Slave Two and started hitting him with the tawse. He hit quite gently to begin with intending to make the slaps harder as he progressed.

‘What are you playing at, Slave One? This isn't a kindergarten. When I tell you to hit Slave Two with the tawse I didn't mean tickle him. Now get on with it. And that's another punishment for you for sloppy behaviour.'

Tony resumed the punishment with much harder slaps. Slave Two began to gasp as the stinging strokes landed on his sensitive flesh. Tony noticed that Slave Two did not have his eyes closed, as Tony usually did when he was being whipped, but had turned his head half to one side to look at Angela. When Tony looked at her himself, he was astonished to see that she was gently rubbing herself through her red thong while watching Tony beat the other slave. Her fingers moved up and down to the rhythm of the strokes on Slave Two's behind. Tony became so engrossed in this sight that he nearly lost count of the strokes he had handed out. Fortunately, he remembered to stop at twenty. Tony's wife got up out of the chair and walked round to inspect Slave Two's behind.

‘Yes, nice and red. Better leave that for the moment. Slave One. Go and fetch the nipple clamps.'

As Tony went to fetch the nipple clamps, his wife rubbed Slave Two's nipples until they stood erect from his chest. When satisfied with their engorged state, she returned to the armchair and resumed her position. Tony was instructed to fit the clamps to Slave Two. ‘Fit them on the tips, as far as possible away from his body. I want this to hurt.' As Tony released the clamps, one clamp viciously squeezing the end of each nipple, Slave Two's face initially showed a grimace of pain but within seconds he regained his composure. His cock, however, told another story. Whereas the beating with the tawse had left his erection somewhat soft, the application of the clamps brought about an immediate revival and within ten seconds Slave Two's cock was rigidly to attention once more.

Time passed with no sound from anyone in the room and Tony wondered how long Slave Two was going to have to endure the clamps.

‘When shall I take them off?' he tentatively asked.

‘I shall know when they have to come off, and then I will tell you,' his Mistress replied. ‘And don't try to second-guess me again, Slave One, or you'll earn another punishment.'

While Tony was wondering what Angela had meant he soon found out. Slave Two's composure began to crumble. It started with him gritting his teeth then rapidly his face disintegrated into a grimace of unendurable pain.

‘I think you can take them off now, Slave One,' she said. ‘But take them both off at the same time, for maximum effect.' And with no more ado than that, Tony quickly removed the clamps. Slave Two let out an involuntary scream as blood rushed back into his tortured flesh. The Mistress watched with amusement and, when Slave Two's agony had finally passed, Tony was ordered to let Slave Two down whereupon the positions reversed. Slave Two strung Tony up on the ropes. Slave Two was very strong and Tony found his arms pulled far more tightly than they ever had been when his wife had pulled the rope through the pulleys. Indeed, he had to stand on the balls of his feet to relieve the tension. With the leg spreader subsequently attached his toes hardly touched the floor, providing merely enough friction to prevent Tony swinging freely from his supports.

‘Slave One has three punishments coming to him and I think we can start with the parachute. Slave Two fetch me the parachute!' Slave Two was not too sure what the parachute was but once its purpose had been explained he had no difficulty in locating it. He brought the parachute from the wall where it was hanging on a small hook and as he handed it to the Mistress he noted with shock that the interior contained numerous small pin-pricks. Tony's wife fitted the device herself, quite expertly after many years of practice. The parachute was fixed around the top of Tony's scrotum next to his penis, with his balls underneath the parachute. Three chains hung limply from the edges joined to a weight bearing ring, waiting to be put to use.

‘Slave Two fetch the three kilogram weight from the box over in the far corner.'

Tony's eyes fill with horror.

‘But Mistress ....'

‘Silence, Slave One,' she shouted at Tony. Then turned and said, ‘Slave Two stop where you are.'

Tony had wanted to remind her that they had never used more than the two kilo weight and he was genuinely fearful of the damage that three kilos may impart, but she clearly did not want to hear him speak. And now, Tony would never be able to tell her because she fitted the inflatable gag and inflated it to fully fill his mouth, leaving him unable to make any but the feeblest grunts and moans.

‘Continue Slave Two', she said as she went back to repose in her armchair.

Slave Two found the three kilo weight and returned to Tony whose eyes would have been out on stalks of horror were it physically possible. He had lifted the three kilo weight in his hands and knew how heavy it was. Sure, he had read on the internet of men who had endured much more weight but they were not him. He had tried to apply it once to himself as an experiment but had been unable to take his hands away completely. His limit would have been reached. He looked at his mistress who sat calmly in her chair with just a hint of a grin. Did she really want to damage him? Slave Two was now next to Tony and was in the process of kneeling in order to fix the weight. Tony tried to shout through the gag but only a meaningless grunt emerged. The weight had a small hook which would clip onto the ring beneath the parachute and, as Slave Two reached to attach the weight, Angela interrupted.

‘On second thoughts, we'd better stick to the two kilo weight. Please fetch it, Slave Two.'

A wave of grateful relief washed over Tony and he realised that this had been a very clever play by his mistress. He began to see why she had brought another slave into their game because she could not have played this scene so convincingly on her own. It would have been obvious from her body language that she didn't actually intend to attach it. However, when the weight was about to be attached by somebody else, somebody who had no idea of what Tony's body could actually bear, there were no hesitations, no play acting. There was no doubt in Tony's mind but that the other slave would have obeyed Angela and attached that weight given just one more second. ‘Very clever', he thought to himself. ‘Nice mind fuck.'

The two kilo weight was attached and Slave Two stood back. The familiar pains filled Tony's body, one feeling as if his guts were being ripped out through his groin and the other as if his ball sack were being shredded by hot knives. Angela studied him from her armchair as if looking at a statue in a museum.

‘This display is too static', she said. ‘Slave Two pull the weight outwards until it makes an angle of about 45 degrees then let it go.'

Slave Two did as he was told. The weight began to swing like a pendulum between Tony's legs. As it reached the bottom of each swing, the pull on Tony's balls was increased far beyond what he was used to and the pain almost became unbearable but it immediately lessened as it swung up on the other arc. It might even have been equivalent to three kilos, thought Tony. But he appreciated that the increased weight lasted only an instant. Backwards and forwards it swung. Tony's face crumpled each time the weight swung through the bottom of the arc. Gradually, the size of the arc reduced and when it finally came to a stop, Slave Two was commanded to remove the weight and the parachute.

‘I think we'll move on to the riding crop for punishment two. Slave Two, administer twenty strokes with the riding crop and don't be too lenient unless you want to earn another punishment for yourself.'

Slave Two picked up the riding crop and Tony closed his eyes and he usually did, waiting for the first stroke to land. Slave Two did not start immediately and Tony wondered why not and why his mistress had not admonished him for wasting time. Tony waited, wondering what was going on when, suddenly, and without warning, he received an enormous lash of the crop on his buttocks. It was not just the tab on the end that hit but the full shaft, like a cane. The force of the stroke shot him forward lifting his toes completely off the ground and the surprise shot his eyes open. He was even more surprised at what he then saw. His mistress had taken off her red thong and was sitting with her legs well spread. She was openly fingering herself, alternately sliding two fingers into her hole as far as she could push them and then sliding the lubricated fingertips delicately over her clitoris. As the riding crop smacked onto Tony's buttocks so the fingers were rammed into her cunt; as the crop was raised in preparation for the next stroke so the lubricated fingers glided over her swollen bud. Tony could not take his eyes off this sight even as Slave Two laid into him. Without looking, he also knew that Slave Two was getting a full view of the same shockingly lewd scene. All this time, Angela was staring at Tony, knowing that he was fascinated by her fingers, excited by the view, shocked by her exhibitionism, completely unable to avert his eyes.

‘Slave Two, stop for a moment.'

She walked over to Tony and removed the gag.

‘Slave One, what were you looking at?'

‘I was … I was looking at you fingering your magnificent cunt, mistress,' Tony replied remembering to use a glowing adjective to describe her body and thinking thereby to avoid a further punishment.

‘And what are you being punished for?'

‘Er ... ,' he started to say, and his face dropped as he realised what had happened. ‘Looking at your body without permission and not referring to your most wonderful cunt in flattering enough terms, mistress.'

‘Well I'm glad to see you have learnt one of the lessons even if you haven't yet learnt the other.' Then in a whisper, ‘Slave One, you are to watch me fingering myself for the remainder of your whipping. You have, of course, earned another punishment so you may as well get full benefit from your delinquency.'

She went back to her armchair before saying, ‘Slave Two, you'd better keep going for thirty strokes as I need to make up for lost ground.'

Tony just registered Slave Two's mandatory, ‘yes mistress,' before the first of the remaining strokes landed on the back of his thighs and his wife's fingers resumed their lustful dance over her groin. The lascivious display by his wife ensured that Tony's cock remained at full stiffness throughout the beating. By the time Slave Two had finished the thirty, very hard strokes, Tony had almost reached his limit, both physically and mentally.

His mistress walked over to Tony. Slowly she raised the fingers she had used on herself until they were under Tony's nose. He could smell her scent, something that always aroused him: the smell of sex, the smell of excitement.

‘Would you like to taste this?' she asked, teasingly.

‘Yes, mistress', Tony replied.

‘Then stick out your tongue, Slave One.'

She slowly wiped her fingers on Tony's tongue then commanded him to put his tongue back. He hated it and loved it at the same time. He always loved her taste but he knew deep down that this might be his only taste. He could never know if she would grant him further access that day or if she might just torment and tease him.

‘Did you like that, Slave One?'

‘Yes mistress', came Tony's reply.

She moved away from Tony to stand in front of Slave Two. Without breaking eye contact with Slave Two, her hand went down to the darkness between her legs. Slowly she inserted her fingers once more to coat them in her juices then lifted them up to Slave Two's nose.

‘Stick out your tongue', she said to Slave Two, without asking him what he might want, and once again she wiped her fingers on the outstretched tongue.

‘Did you like that, Slave Two?'

‘Oh mistress, the taste of your body was quite magnificent.' Slave Two was not completely comfortable with the idea of using words like “cunt” to describe parts of her body, so chose the safe option.

‘I am glad to see that Slave Two has some manners even if Slave One still has not', she said looking sternly at Tony. ‘Very well, Slave Two, you can have more of that. I think we'll leave Slave One hanging by his arms for the moment to contemplate his manners. Follow me Slave Two!', and with that she led Slave Two to her armchair.

She sat down, spread her legs and then said to him, ‘you may lick the honey pot until I say stop.'

Tony, hanging helplessly from the hooks in the ceiling, his cock almost at bursting point, the smell of her juices still fresh in his nostrils, was forced to watch as Slave Two licked his wife to her first orgasm.

* * *

‘That was very good, Slave Two,' she said when she had recovered. ‘Now you deserve a reward. Lie down on the floor.' Slave Two lay down as commanded and Tony's wife went over to the table that stood against the end wall and picked up a bottle of baby oil. She returned and stood over Slave Two briefly then, facing towards his feet, she knelt down smothering him. She proceeded to apply the oil to his stiff cock and then to slowly stroke up and down, her hand clasped firmly all round his pole. ‘You may lick, Slave Two,' she said, as he was submissively refraining from taking any initiative. ‘You always have to earn pleasure here.' It was not long before Slave Two showed signs of an impending orgasm: his breathing (such as he could manage it through the stifling, smothering flesh of the mistress's wet crotch) began to come in short gasps and his abdominal muscles became tense with each stroke of her hand. Whilst Angela was enjoying the ministrations of Slave Two's tongue, she was nowhere near another orgasm herself. She was concentrating on what she was doing to his body and unable to devote sufficient abandon to her own pleasure to let herself go. Every time his body displayed a new level of unfulfilled excitement she smiled to herself and reduced the level of stimulation. There was nothing more exciting than controlling and denying pleasure in another, especially when being free of such constraints herself. When his body arched up to follow the upward path of the hand on each stroke, she asked him, ‘Are you ready to come, Slave Two?'

‘Ysh Mshtrsh', he replied through the drenching labia that enfolded his mouth.

‘Then I think this is a good time to stop', she said and, without further explanation, let his cock slip unsupported from her hand as she rose to a standing position. Slave Two let out an involuntary groan at being stopped so close to climax. ‘Are you complaining, Slave Two?'

‘No Mistress,' he said quickly.

‘Just as well otherwise you would have earned another punishment', she needlessly explained.

Tony's was released from his suspension and Angela led the two slaves out of the dungeon and ordered them to get on their hands and knees like dogs. In this position, crawling, they had to follow her into the reception room at the back of the house. She held a riding crop in her hand. In her experience dogs sometimes needed encouragement to obey their orders and the crop was an excellent motivator.

‘Slave Two, be a good doggy and crawl round and sniff Slave One's arse', she commanded.

Slave Two hesitated for just a moment, as smelling a man's backside was not a prospect that held any appeal for him. Angela had expected this, that one or other of the slaves might disobey, and was ready with a quick swipe of the crop across the buttocks. A low grunt escaped from Slave Two's snout then he crawled round to the rear of Tony until he could get his nose to the crease between Tony's buttocks.

‘What does is smell like?' Angela asked.

‘A bit shitty, mistress', replied Slave Two.

‘Well that will never do. Slave One, be a good doggy, crawl round and sniff Slave Two's arse.'

Slave One reciprocated, also without enthusiasm but promptly enough to avoid a similar lash of the crop and reported in turn that Slave Two's arse smelled of shit. Tony's wife opened the patio doors and commanded the slaves to follow her out to the patio. They duly crawled outside to the enclosed and un-overlooked patio area and then remained still on all fours while Tony's wife proceeded to hose down their rear ends with cold water.

‘There, that should have cleaned you two up. Slave One, have you emptied your bowels today?'

Tony was mortified. She'd never asked such an embarrassing question before, even when he'd been acting as her slave, and to have to answer her was bad enough, but in front of this other slave was just about the most humiliating experience of his life. ‘Come along! I don't want to have to wait all day for your answer.'

‘No mistress', Tony replied, blushing from his forehead to his toes.

‘Well that will never do. I've just cleaned you up and already you're thinking about dirtying yourself up again.'

She walked over to Tony and pressed the hose nozzle to his anus. She pressed the trigger and the water was turned on for a few moments filling Tony with cold water. It did nothing for his embarrassment.

‘Let's see if that speeds thing up. Now, Slave Two, have you emptied your bowels today.'

‘Er ..., well ... yes I think so mistress,' said Slave Two, clearly not relishing the prospect of a cold enema.

‘Don't think, Slave Two! Be sure! If you tell me you have and I later find you haven't you will be in big trouble. So is that a “yes” or “no”?'

‘Em ..., no I suppose, no, mistress,' replied Slave Two with utmost reluctance.

‘Very well', and so saying she gave Slave Two the same treatment.

By now, Tony's bowels were on the move and he was cramping.

‘I need to use the toilet, mistress', he said.

‘What about you, Slave Two?' asked Tony's wife.

Slave Two, despite having received his cold water enema after Tony received his, could also feel its effects and a certain urgency was making itself felt in his lower quarters. ‘Yes I need the toilet as well, mistress,' he replied.

‘Just as I thought. Well that is a problem as we only have one toilet and I can hardly show favouritism by letting either one of you go first in preference to the other. Wait here both of you.'

And with that, Tony's wife disappeared into the house leaving the slaves uncomfortably clenching their buttocks. She reappeared a few moments later carrying two plastic buckets.

‘Use these and then you will slop them out afterwards', she commanded giving one to each slave.

To their great discomfort and embarrassment, the two slaves, in full view of each other and of their mistress, had to shit into the buckets. When they were finished, she hosed them down again and then had them slop out their buckets. They then returned to the patio where they once again performed olfactory inspections of each other. This time, they had the sense to declare that there was no discernible smell.

‘Follow me, doggies.' Angela said as she returned to the house. ‘Back to the dungeon, I think.' She led them back down the steps to the basement dungeon. ‘Slave One, fetch me a length of bondage rope and a pair of handcuffs!' she commanded. Tony did. Tony still had his wrist cuffs on. After a brief command from the Mistress he put his hands behind his back where she secured them together with a clip. Slave Two had his hands secured behind his back by the handcuffs. ‘Now, we're going to have a little contest,' she said. ‘Reward for the winner and forfeit for the loser.' She tied one end of the bondage rope securely to Tony's balls then the other end to Slave Two's balls. The two slaves were thus bound together by about two metres of rope.

‘So,' she said, her face brightening up by the prospect of the forthcoming spectacle, ‘you can probably guess that this is a pulling contest. A sort of Tug-o-War - but I think I'll call it Hauls-o-Balls. Now I don't want anyone falling over and causing sudden movements that might result in a dramatic end to the game so both of you get down on your knees. That's right now move slowly backward to take the strain. Good. Now I'll put my thong here in the middle and the first one to touch it, or touch the floor on the far side of it, loses the contest. All clear?' Both slaves nodded. ‘Take the strain, and … pull!'

Tony could feel his balls being ripped from his body. He had already endured torture by parachute with a two kilo weight and he wondered if that was to his disadvantage - because he would now be tender in his scrotal region - or to his advantage - because he had had a warm up, so to speak, and had already become accustomed to a strain. The pain was excruciating and his only consolation was knowing that it must be equally bad for his opponent. His face was screwed up in concentration, trying to shut out the pain. He looked at his balls and could not believe how far they were from the rest of his body. Were they being stretched before his very eyes? He look up at his opponent and realised, too late, that this was a mistake. Slave two was not showing any signs of distress in his face. On the contrary his face was a picture of calm determination. In that instant, any hope Tony had that he might win the contest evaporated and he felt convinced that he would lose. Slave Two seemed to have been waiting for that very moment for as Tony looked into his face, Slave Two raised his eyebrows in an enquiring manner and shuffled his legs backward by three inches or so pulling the rope with him. As he felt the pull on his balls increase Tony was ready to concede and tried to shuffle forward but, instead, lost his balance and fell forward with disastrous results. His balls, being held firmly forward by the rope were trapped between him and the floor as he landed with a thump. With his hands secured behind his back, his natural instinct was to prevent his head banging onto the floor and he did the only things he could to prevent this, which were to hunch his shoulders and belly forward and his neck back. His balls were crushed between his pelvis and the floor. He lay there as his abdomen dissolved in throbbing pain.

‘What do you think you're doing, Slave One? Did I give you permission to have a rest?' Angela shouted with mock-sadistic lack of concern. ‘Get up, you miserable toad. You just lost the contest and you've disgraced me in the process. You realise this means you get a forfeit and Slave Two gets a reward.' Angela paused as if lost in thought, murmuring “hmm” noises, while Tony slowly got back onto his knees. ‘Slave Two, do you want a fuck?' Tony could not believe his ears. Was his wife going to fuck the other slave? That seemed like an excessively generous reward.

‘Yes, thank you Mistress. I would enjoy that,' Slave Two responded, ‘er … if that is what you want,' he added quickly as a prudent afterthought.

‘Yes, I think it is,' she replied. ‘Shuffle over here so I can release you.' Slave Two made his way over to his seated Mistress who then released his handcuffs and removed the rope from his ball sack. ‘You may stand up,' she said to Slave Two. ‘Slave One move closer. I want you to lick me.' Tony, now completely confused, moved closer thinking he was going to lick his mistress. Just as he was almost there she told him to stop before she got out of her chair. ‘Don't move Slave One,' she commanded. She picked up the rope still attached to his balls and walked back to the dungeon wall behind him into which had been cemented an iron rung. She tied off the rope so it was taut when Tony was in the position he then had. She fetched a tube of lube and started to apply it to Slave One's rear passage. Tony now had a nasty idea just what sort of fucking Slave Two was going to be rewarded with. When she thought she had applied sufficient lube to Tony, Angela applied some to Slave Two's rigid prick. Then she returned to her seat just in front of Tony, sat down and spread her legs. ‘Lick!' was all she said. Tony, his hands still secured behind his back, leant over with considerable difficulty to lick her, but she was just out of reach.

‘I can't reach,' Tony said miserably, feeling sure this would not meet with her approval.

‘Of course you can reach,' she replied. ‘You just have to get a little closer.'

Tony approached as closely as he could, given the fact that his balls were connected via rope to the wall behind. By pulling against the rope as much as he felt was bearable he could just get the tip of his tongue on his mistress's clitoris.

‘That's pathetic, Slave One,' she exclaimed. ‘OK, Slave Two, time to fuck. You know what I want you to do.' Slave Two positioned himself kneeling behind Tony, one leg on each side of the rope securing his balls, and, not being in the least gay or bisexual, had to force himself to enter Tony. Tony had experienced his Mistress's strap-on many times and knew what to expect so was not surprised when he felt an intense pain in his arse as Slave Two penetrated him and his anus was forcibly stretched, nor was he surprised when the pain passed after a few moments. He had not thought to expect such heat radiating from Slave Two's cock, however. If he had been honest with himself he would have had to admit that it was almost erotic. Slave Two having entered Tony and having no interest in sex with another man rested there, motionless, his cock inside Tony. ‘Stop messing around, Slave Two,' Angela said. ‘When I said fuck him, I meant FUCK him. Thrust! I want to hear your belly slap against his buttocks. Just make sure you don't come. That'll happen later - maybe - if you're good.'

Slave Two withdrew his cock then rammed it home. Tony was pushed forward about an inch. He would not have previously thought that possible without the violent parting from his body of his scrotum and its contents. But move he did, though with considerable discomfort. Each thrust from Slave Two caused Tony to lurch forward significantly further than his balls would have liked.

‘Come on, Slave One. I told you to lick. Get that tongue out,' his mistress commanded.

Despite the unbearable pain in his groin and abdomen, Tony stuck his tongue out and then every time Slave Two thrust into him and he was nudged forward and mentally said ‘au revoir' to his balls (sincerely hoping it was not ‘adios') as they were almost ripped from him, his tongue slid over his mistress's clitoris. She sat in her throne-like chair, watching Tony get fucked in the arse by Slave Two while his balls suffered severe torture and his tongue rubbed her most sensitive spot. All this suffering just for her pleasure. She had fantasized about this for days but the actual scene was so much hotter than she had imagined that within moments she climaxed with such force that she totally instinctively grabbed Tony's hair and almost pulled two handfuls out by the roots.

Having recovered from her orgasm and dismantled the little tableau she had created which included detaching Tony from the wall, she turned to him and asked, ‘So, Slave One, how many punishments have you earned so far?'

Tony wasn't too sure and the pain in his balls was making thinking about as easy as calculating a space shuttle orbit on an abacus. ‘Um, well I earned two this morning before Slave Two arrived…'

‘Yes. Any more?'

‘Um … oh yes, I earned another because I wasn't hitting Slave Two as hard as you wanted.'

‘Say that again!' Angela suddenly commanded, with a menacing edge to her voice.

‘Um… well…' Tony had the uncomfortable feeling that he'd made a mistake and he was racking his brains to work it out, but he couldn't. ‘I earned another because I wasn't hitting Slave Two as hard as you wanted.'

‘Hm. Well that's another you've earned for insolence.' Tony looked puzzled. ‘You didn't earn the punishment for not hitting as hard as I wanted . You earned it for not hitting HARD ENOUGH.' Angela loved it when she could confound Tony with perverse logic to his detriment, knowing full well that he didn't dare discuss the matter, even if she was being completely illogical. The power was just such a rush. Winning a World War must be like that, she sometimes thought. ‘What you just said implied that you did not agree with my judgement, and that is not to be tolerated. Continue with the counting.'

‘Oh … um … yes I got another for looking at you while being punished by Slave Two, but I received that straight away because Slave Two gave me thirty strokes instead of twenty.'

‘Don't try that! We haven't started counting how many you've received yet. Just count what you've earned.'

‘… That's it, I think.'

‘No it's not. You're forgetting the one you got thirty seconds ago for insolence.'

Tony gulped. ‘Oh yes. Sorry. So that's five in all.'

‘Right. Now you can count how many you've received.'

‘Yes, well I was tortured with the parachute. That's one. Then Slave Two gave me thirty strokes with the riding crop, instead of the twenty you originally ordered, which was another two so that makes three.'

‘Stop! I never said that was two punishments. You got thirty because I had to interrupt my pleasure to correct you and my level of sexual excitement dropped. Remember? That was just one punishment. Carry on.'

‘Oh, well that's two in total then. And then I was fucked by Slave Two and my balls were stretched in the process. I'm not sure if that counts as one, or two, Mistress.'

‘It counts as none.' Tony's face dropped. He couldn't believe he'd endured the last five minutes of agony and that it had counted for nothing. ‘That, if you remember, was a forfeit for losing the contest. So, you've earned five punishments and by some oversight you have so far only endured two. Good, at least we have something to do for the rest of the day. And we can always hope you'll earn more.'

Tony's wife stood and looked at him. ‘Well, how about a little bet? Double or quits on the remaining punishments?'

Tony thought about it. He'd been offered bets before but only for one punishment. If he lost this one he'd end up with six punishments which he doubted he could stand. He was also wise enough to know that if Mistress was offering a bet the cards were probably stacked in her favour.

‘I'd rather not,' Tony replied. ‘I don't want to face the possibility of six punishments.'

Angela thought about. She wanted Tony to take her bet so she made it more enticing. ‘OK, how about betting your three outstanding punishments against one additional one?'

This sounded much better to Tony. ‘I'd have to know what the bet was, but in principle I might be interested.'

‘Good,' she said, and smiled that evil smile that Tony knew so well. ‘Do you think Slave Two could make you scream?'

‘Oh yes,' Tony replied. ‘I wasn't far off it after those thirty strokes of the crop.'

‘Mmm. But do you think he could make you scream without touching you?'

‘Well, he wouldn't have been technically touching me if he had hit me more times with the crop. It would have been the crop that touched me.'

She smiled even more. This was good. Tony was thinking exactly the way she had hoped he would. Now to spring the trap and reinforce his thinking along the wrong lines. Tony meanwhile worried more. When his Mistress smiled, he was usually in deep trouble. He knew from experience that she could be more devious than him, usually to his disadvantage. And he was wise enough to know that he couldn't question her decision even if he felt she was cheating. ‘So do you think he could make you scream if he didn't touch you personally, or with anything that he was holding?' Angela finally said.

Tony knew with certainty that this was a trick question so he thought hard. Well, under the terms of this question, Slave Two couldn't spank him, or hit him with any implement. Tony couldn't immediately see what Mistress had up her sleeve, but then he did. ‘Well I might scream if he tortured me with the TENS unit and put electricity at full power through me.'

‘Idiot.' She was not smiling now. He was thinking laterally and that was not a good sign. She needed him to continue to think along predictable lines. ‘He would have to hold the control unit which would be connected to the wires which would be connected to you. That wouldn't count. Anyway, if it helps you to come to an answer, I can tell you that we're not doing electricity today.' She smiled again. ‘So, do you think he could make you scream?'

Tony was feeling very uncomfortable now as he racked his brains. What about pegs? No he would have to be holding them to put them on. Whips, paddles, crops, parachutes, clamps - no he couldn't think how Slave Two could make him scream if he wasn't allowed to touch him in any way or touch him with anything he was holding. ‘No Mistress, I don't.'

‘So would you bet all your remaining punishments against one additional punishment that Slave Two can't make you scream without touching you with all the caveats already explained?'

Tony thought one more time. He was sure it was a trick but he couldn't see it. He would certainly like to avoid the three outstanding punishments, especially as he expected to earn more before long, for that was how it always was. ‘Yes,' he said.

Angela's smile seemed to stretch from ear to ear. He had fallen for it. ‘Very well, go put on your ankle cuffs then position yourself on the floor.'

There were four eyebolts cemented into the floor of the dungeon which made it possible to secure a slave who was lying on the floor in a spread-eagle position. Tony knew that was what she wanted. Soon he was secured to the floor, arms outstretched and legs spread almost impossibly wide. ‘Make sure the ropes are tight,' she had said to Slave Two. ‘We don't want him moving during this little test.' Slave Two had then been told to go to one of the cupboards and return with what he found there. He came back with a large candle, about three inches in diameter, and a box of matches. ‘You're going to wax Slave One,' she said. ‘Don't worry, I'll give you instructions how to do it.'

Tony wasn't too worried. He'd had wax before. It hurt but it was completely bearable. He wasn't about to scream. The candle was lit and soon had some molten wax in the middle. Slave two was standing beside him holding the candle. ‘Right, Slave Two, Pay attention. You're going to pour that wax onto Slave One's nipple. His left nipple I think.' Slave Two tipped the candle and wax poured and it landed over a wide area, mostly missing the nipple. ‘There. You missed,' Angela said. ‘Now to correct that, kneel down so you can hold the candle much lower and pour directly onto the target area. Try again.' Slave Two knelt and lowered the candle until it was just a few inches above Tony's left nipple. Then he tipped the wax. Tony drew a sharp breath in between clenched teeth. He'd had wax before but always poured from a height of a foot or so. This was much hotter. Thank goodness there had already been a little wax from the first pouring to provide some protection.

‘Much better,' Mistress said to Slave Two. Now try again with the right nipple.' Tony began to fret. There was no protection on his right nipple. As the wax hit he stifled a scream though a grunt escaped his grimacing face.

‘Good,' Mistress said, congratulating Slave Two. ‘You seem to have mastered the technique. That was just practice, of course. Now we'll wait a bit before the real test. We want lots and lots of lovely hot wax.' Tony really didn't like the sound of that at all. ‘I'll tell you when there's enough wax, and when there is, you'll pour it here at the tip of his cock. Right there on his most sensitive spot. I'm sure as a man you know exactly where that is.'

Tony was now genuinely afraid. ‘No, please don't,' he half shouted.

‘But we have a bet to determine,' Mistress replied, giving Tony the full benefit of her evil grin.

‘This wouldn't count for the bet,' Tony said in desperation. ‘You agreed that he wouldn't touch me with anything that he is holding.'

‘That's right,' she concurred.

‘Well, he's holding the candle,' Tony said desperately even though he knew he was stating the obvious.

‘Yes he is, but he's not going to touch you with the candle,' she said very reasonably.

‘But the wax is going to touch me.'

‘Oh yes. But I don't think he's holding the hot wax,' Angela said putting on her best professor voice.

‘But it's connected to the candle,' Tony continued, by now quite distraught.

‘Oh, I don't think so. Liquids usually separate into droplets as soon as they are poured from the container. I've seen it on telly, when they've shown liquids dropping using slow motion cameras. Do you want to argue with me?'

Tony was trapped. He couldn't argue without earning another punishment for insolence. ‘No. Please don't do it. I concede the bet,' he said in a final attempt to avoid what was coming.

‘You can't do that,' Mistress replied. ‘I have to be fair. You might not like this but, until we do it, we can't be sure you will scream, so it wouldn't be fair to accept your offer. I might be winning the bet under false pretences. I couldn't do that.' She turned to address Slave Two. ‘OK. There seems to be enough there now to completely cover the tip of his cock. Go ahead.' Slave Two poured. Tony screamed.

Mistress allowed Slave Two to lick her while Tony recovered. She loved the sight of Tony lying on the floor with a pretty cast of white wax covering the top half of his still erect cock and two smaller ones covering his nipples. She could still look forward to the pleasure of removing the wax with a stiff nail brush. But most of all she adored the sight of Tony helpless, limbs stretched in all directions, his cock and balls fully exposed and at her mercy. She climaxed after ten minutes of Slave Two's attentions. After she had recovered a couple of minutes later, Angela decided that it had also been long enough for Tony to recover. She walked over to his side. ‘Oh dear. Well you now have four punishments to come. You're such a bad slave. If you hadn't wanted to somehow avoid punishments that you had rightly earned, this wouldn't have happened,' she said reasonably.

‘Four?' Tony queried. ‘Surely the wax torture counted as one. There should be three to come.'

‘Oh no. The wax was just to decide the bet. I never said that was a punishment, did I?'

Now Tony realised how badly he had been tricked. In reality he was getting five punishments, or tortures, call them what you will, whereas if he hadn't agreed to the bet it would only have been three. If he'd known that, he wouldn't have bet. It was only because he thought he'd only get one additional punishment if he lost that he'd agree to take the risk. One day he would learn that slaves can never win, but he hadn't yet.

‘Slave Two. Go to the freezer and fetch the bag of ice cubes. Slave One's equipment needs cooling down before we do anything else.' While Slave Two fetched ice from the kitchen, Angela scrubbed the wax off with the nail brush, knowing that it was delightfully uncomfortable to have the stiff bristles scrape over the sensitised flesh of Tony's nipples and cock. Tony had to screw his face up for he was determined not to scream again or make any noise for his mistresses amusement. Had he known that Angela found his facial contortions such a turn on he needn't have bothered. She loved to see how much discomfort she could inflict. This was not because she was a sadist at heart - she wasn't - it was much more to do with the fact that this man was so sexually infatuated with her, so craving sexual attention from her, that he would willingly endure the worst of discomforts for the mere possibility of sexual pleasure later. Soon, Slave Two returned and Tony found his cock and balls encased in ice. It wasn't too bad - for the first ten seconds - then the deep cold started to kick in and penetrate to the core of his universe.

‘That's much better now, thank you,' he said.

‘I'm sure it is, Slave One,' Mistress replied. ‘I'm not doing this for your comfort though. I'll think about releasing you when Slave Two has prepared lunch, which I shall supervise.' And with that, she and Slave Two left the dungeon.

The afternoon followed pretty much the same pattern of humiliations, punishments and contests.

The Mistress was particularly pleased with what she called ‘the cock fight'. For this she fastened stinging nettle stalks, about two feet long, to the undersides of the two slaves' erections using elastic bands. Needless to say, that hurt. She especially enjoyed pretending that she had to adjust the nettles, which gave her the opportunity to twist them round several times pressing every part of each stem's surface onto the sensitive skin, thereby engaging all the available stinging spines with the slave's cock. She didn't think either man would have a problem maintaining his erection after such stimulation, but, just in case, the elastic bands (i) made good cock rings - thereby assisting in keeping everything stiff - and (ii) if that failed, could hold stem A onto tab B even if tab B were to shrink and go flabby. The nettles thus affixed reminded her of the swords used by fencers and, in the present circumstances, the comparison was most apt for the slaves then had to use these nettles to inflict further stings on each other while at the same time attempting to avoid being on the receiving end. Just exactly like fencing, in fact.

She was judge and kept score. It pleased her to see that Tony soon built up a healthy lead in points - she had been disappointed by his poor showing earlier in ‘hauls-o-balls' and he was, after all, her husband. But for pure devilment she decided to distract him and give Slave Two the chance to even the score, so she inserted another stinging nettle stem into the crack between his buttocks and told him to ensure he kept it there. He therefore had to keep his buttocks clenched, ensuring his anus was well stimulated. Before long, Slave Two had drawn ahead whereupon he too was awarded an additional nettle. She stopped scoring when Tony was marginally ahead, which seemed to her to be a fair result. She experienced a real difficulty during this game to maintain her demeanour of a sadistic mistress and not to laugh.

Thus through the day punishments were meted out, games were played, rewards were given and forfeits endured. Angela teased the slaves mercilessly but never to the point of orgasm and never at the same time, so whichever slave was not being pleasured but was in the role of spectator would find the experience greatly frustrating. Tony found the day intense. Whenever he had to punish Slave Two he was in torment. He dare not make the punishment too lenient or else he risked earning an extra punishment for himself yet he dare not make it too severe as Slave Two would always have an opportunity to take his revenge. Tony definitely found the punishments he received more severe than those he was used to getting from his wife and although this was more painful, it was also more erotic as he witnessed the pleasure that she derived from watching them. As for the humiliations, they were far more effective when endured in the presence of a third party instead of just his wife. As the day was drawing to a close he realised that having a second slave had made a huge difference to the day's activities. Around ten o'clock in the evening, the day came to its dramatic climax.

Angela led both slaves up to the spare bedroom where Tony was instructed to tie Slave Two onto the double bed in a classic spread-eagle, wrists and ankles tied one to each corner of the bed. Tony then had to hold two rolled up socks over Slave Two's eyes which were then secured in place by a scarf tied round the head. Next Tony had to hold socks over his own eyes while his wife tied a scarf round his head too. Thus, both slaves were efficiently and totally blindfolded, being unable even to open their eyes to see if there were gaps to look through.

‘Put your hands behind your back', Tony was told, whereupon they were quickly fastened with handcuffs.

Blind and with his hands secured behind his back, Tony was guided across the room until his back was leaning against one of the walls. Then Angela started stroking his stiff cock, slowly and tantalisingly, up and down its entire length, pausing every now and then at the bottom of his shaft to tickle his balls before once again stroking up to the tip, over the sensitive glans. As she continued this brushing of Tony's genitals she spoke to the slaves.

‘Well, what a day. I have to spend a whole day with two useless, idle, time-wasters. I can't think of two men who better deserve to be described as apologies for mankind. But this is prize giving time, when good slaves can expect to get a reward. In view of the disgraceful service you two have given me today I am only going to reward one of you and that is the one who has marginally been the better slave.'

Tony had been feeling very good up to this point but suddenly his wife took her hand away and the wonderful slow stroking of his cock ceased. He heard his wife moving quietly about the room. Then there was silence for some minutes. Tony was now becoming very aroused by the mystery of what was going on or what was going to happen. Then a distinctive slow squish, squish, squish, squish became audible, the sound of sex. Tony's cock and brain both went instantaneously into overdrive. Was his wife fucking Slave Two, riding up and down his slippery dick? It certainly sounded like it but then again it could be the sound of his wife wanking Slave Two with her hand and with the aid of baby oil. Tony could not tell what it was he was hearing and he knew well that his wife was adept at both practices. Squish, squish, squish, squish - the sound continued relentlessly.

Tony was now mortified at the realisation that Slave Two would be getting the reward of an orgasm and that he would. In fact, he would not get one that day - he would have to go to bed aroused and unsatisfied. That had happened once before and it had been a most uncomfortable night of tossing and turning and being unable to sleep. His frustration was at a peak. All day he had been aroused and he desperately wanted to come. Squish, squish, squish, squish - is the noise of a cunt caressing a cock different from that of a hand, and if so how? Could he detect anything unusual or characteristic which might indicate one or the other? How was it possible for his cock not to explode when under such pressure? It felt as if it was half as big again as his normal erect size.

Squish, squish, squish, squish - it felt to Tony as if he had been listening to that sound for at least an hour though he realised it was probably much less. Now there was a new noise. Yes, it was Slave Two's breathing becoming distinctly more heavy as he started his inexorable journey towards his orgasm. Then, almost as soon as this new noise started, everything went quiet again. Not a sound. Tony's imagination went into overdrive. Perhaps Slave Two was not to get an orgasm after all. Perhaps this had been one of her mind fucks and she was now going to give Tony an orgasm and leave Slave Two frustrated. Then, Tony heard somebody moving about on the bed. It had to be Angela as Slave Two was firmly tied down and immobile. Another short period of quiet. Then it started again, squish, squish, squish, squish, but this time he could hear the unmistakable noise of the bedsprings, squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak, in that same relentless rhythm.

Tony's mind almost blew a fuse; his cock nearly took off like a rocket heading for outer space. Oh Christ, now there was surely no doubt. The noise of the bedsprings had to be the result of his wife riding up and down - Slave Two would not be able to move more than a few millimetres the way he was tied down. His wife was fucking the other slave in the same room as him. He was being cuckolded in front of his very own eyes, well blindfold actually. This would be incredibly exciting and stimulating if he could see but to only hear was ten times more intense. This was too much, if only he could wank himself to get some relief from this incredible frustration. No, wait! He suddenly thought. Perhaps his wife was still wanking slave two with her hand and just bouncing on the bed to make him think she was fucking. Oh, that would be brilliant, how clever. Her best mind fuck yet. Shit, so he was still unable to work out what was going on, whether his wife was fucking or wanking the other slave. Based solely on the sounds he could hear it could be either. He had often been attracted to the idea of being cuckolded but he had always expected to be able to watch. If it was ten times worse to be able only to hear his wife fucking another man, it was a hundred times worse to be able only to hear something that might be his wife fucking another man, but also might not. There was no way he could get more information; he was well blindfolded and he knew those handcuffs, they could only be undone with the key. He was condemned to endure the uncertainty created by only having the sounds.

Slave Two's breathing was getting very heavy now, Surely his orgasm could not be far away. Oh God! now his wife was making her unmistakable moans as well. Bitch! She was either fucking the man and about to come herself or she was deliberately faking it just to torment him. It was almost too much. His mind was in turmoil, his cock was throbbing and aching, Slave Two and his wife shouted together as if reaching a mutual orgasm, Tony groaned in desperation and frustration beyond endurance.

There was silence for several minutes. Then he heard the straps being released and people moving about the room, and then they left and closed the door leaving Tony alone. About ten minutes went by before Tony heard voices and the front door close. He heard his wife coming up the stairs and into the room.

Tony felt the drops of oil spill onto his cock and start to run down the length followed rapidly by his wife's hand which expertly worked its magic. Tony was in despair for he knew what would happen and, sure enough, just as he felt he was about to spurt all over the bedroom, covering the bed, carpet and curtains, the hand disappeared and, just as he knew she would, his wife explained that, of course, he had not earned an orgasm.

She released his hands and removed the blindfold.

‘Did you enjoy today?' she asked.

‘Wonderful, absolutely incredible. So much more intense than our normal days. You were so clever to think it all up. But can I ask just one question?'

‘You can ask, but I don't guarantee to answer it. I am not going to tell you what happened just now. That's why I blindfolded you - so you wouldn't know. I wanted your imagination to work overtime and I'm never going to explain exactly what went on. That would spoil everything and waste all my efforts and planning. If I sacrificed my good reputation and virtue, then I did it for you and you should be a grateful little cuckold and I wouldn't for a moment consider it an act of infidelity for you've often begged me to do just that. And if on the other hand I didn't do that then you should be glad of that too, glad that I have not broken my marriage vows. What I did, whatever I did, I did for you; to arouse, tease and utterly torment you, and I can see I succeeded because that is a very hard cock I see in front of me. I might even nickname it “the Cock of Gibraltar,” it's so rigid.'

‘Actually that wasn't what I was going to ask. I knew you'd never tell me that. I've already resigned myself to not knowing and to being tormented for the rest of my life wondering what happened. May I say “thank you” for that little scene, and tell you that you've never before messed with my mind quite so wonderfully. But there is a question that has been troubling me all day and which I couldn't possibly ask until now. If you won't answer, well so bit it, but answering won't in any way affect the success of the day or spoil my enjoyment. And I really would like to know. How on earth did you persuade the new vicar to be a slave?'