A new life.
Just a week after being married he was away again this time on a ship for six months before he went I was told that from time to time I’d be told to go to the farm and visit Mentor. I was also instructed that now I was married didn’t mean that I wasn’t a slag any more than it meant I was now a virgin once more. I knew what I was and so did he but he didn’t want me to disgrace myself with people he called “vanillas” so there was to be no playing around. Unless I asked for permission and got it, fucking without permission would mean punishment and it will be a harsh one at that.
The one thing I realised was money was tight so I needed a job. Looking in the local paper I saw a job for part time bar staff and it was in the pub that I had once been given free drinks after the incident with Toby and Steve. It was easy I rang them I went to see him and not only did I get a job straight away I got Susan one as well we worked Friday to Monday 7 until closing and we shared tips. On the first night, I was told not to wear low cut tops or short skirts as I had done in Torquay because it wasn’t that type of place. So I wore tight trousers instead which showed off my bum and stopped wearing a bra altogether and the tips just flew in.
The Bull and was very popular with the regulars most of all the older ones. Mainly due to the fact it was a safe place to drink a lot of older business people used The Bull and quite a few policemen which made it even safer. One guy took a particular interest in me and would spend hours sitting on a bar stool drinking whiskey, which I hate. He told me he was an ex-professional Rugby League player, which was news to me because I thought they all played for nothing at the time plus I hated rugby players. He was grey-haired guy in his 50’s I’d say and was always inviting me to go and see some real men play the game at Wigan. He told me I was wasted on my “little husband” and he’d show me what a real man was, little did he know.
One lunch hour I popped in to see Susan who asked me to mind the bar for her while she did something. When the landlord asked me “Where’s Susan?” I told him she was doing something and she was, she was in the gents’ toilets fucking one of the regulars and almost got caught. Soon a younger clientele started to use the place which the landlord was pleased to say was down to his new bar staff, which made us both smile. Weekends because of the then restricted licensing laws meant that we were all finished by 11.30 and could do down to The Cave for a few drinks and a dance or in my case be home in bed by 11.45 if I didn’t feel like it.
Susan was always up for it and if she couldn’t get a man she’d often let herself into our house with the key I’d given her instead of paying for a taxi back to the village on double time. More often than not she’s joined me in my bed for a little play and what she liked to call our “little secret” and I told her one night she’d get into bed and find my husband there only to be told “Oh god that would be nice, now lick my pussy like a good girl.” Fucking with Susan on a Friday became a standard thing to do but it was something we never talked about nor the various welts and bruises she found on my body over the years we never discussed them once not then or since.
At the end of my first-year exams at college I had the whole summer to myself now at nineteen, married and a “sex slave” and bored out of my mind. I had managed to cut down the number of visits to the farm and Mentor after explaining I needed to work to pay the bills as the money he paid into the bank from his services wage wasn’t enough. After that conversation, I was only sent there once a month but it would take me a week to recover. The summer before I’d spent in Devon and when I wasn’t on my back or bent over for some guy other, I was building a tan up on the beach. The trouble was if I put on my bikini and lay in the garden the chances are I’d still be marked from my visit to the farm. And the nosey old cow that lived next door would have a field day tell anybody who would listen to her.
Susan as close a friend as she was and still has one flaw and that is once she has a man he gets 100% of her attention and of course she like Hanna had found her ideal man, well another ideal man and apart from work I hardly saw her. I did see Toby walking with a huge limp with the aid of a walking stick due to his new artificial knee and he saw me and as I was food shopping as was he each time I went up one aisle he’d be coming the other way with his mother, it was not very comfortable for either of us. When I told Alison she was venomous in her verbal attack on him and shouting at me for even showing him the slightest sympathy. “Anyway,” she told me “he’s better off than the other one because he needs a heart transplant if he’s going to live past his 30th birthday.” That was true because less than four years later Steve died of a massive heart attack; he was just 27 years-old just his parents and close family attended the funeral, Toby wasn’t there.
As a postscript to this, I was later told by my father’s Policeman friend Snowy that a few weeks after his son was given the beating he suffered when trying to abduct me. They believed that his father had used his knowledge of the criminal fraternity to hire three men to exact revenge for his son. This they were already investigating when the office manager at the father's practice called 999 when three pairs of human ears (six full ears) were sent to him (the father) in the post. Clearly, the men hired weren’t up to the job. The investigations into this hit a stone wall and were dropped.
On one visit to the farm, I was introduced to a woman called Madam Tricia who was staying there with her two male slaves for the weekend. Jenny told me she was a Pro Domme from Birmingham and the two slaves were paying her a small fortune to be there with her. Madam Tricia was also a lesbian who had a dislike for “weak men” and “weak bisexual or straight women” and I was about to find out how much she disliked them. Summer months at the farm I slept naked in a pen in the cowshed with straw to lie on. In the winter I was given an old horse rug. The pen was hot in the summer and freezing cold in the winter, there was no way out as I was chained by my waist to the wall and no toilet just like an animal I had to use the floor and clean up my own mess in the morning.
That visit I had the two male slaves sleeping in the same pen one was about sixty and the other a little younger they were both ordered not to speak to me or touch me which would have been difficult anyway as they were both shackled and wore little steel male Chastity devices around their cocks and their balls. It was mid-afternoon before I was let out of the pen but from the noises, I’d heard I was better off chained to the wall in the pen. The sun hurt my eyes as the only light inside the pen came from the holes in the door. Outside I was greeted to the sight one of the slaved bent over the cable reel his arse cheeks red raw and bleeding the other was hanging by his feet upside down his whole body was covered in welts some of which had blood seeping from them.
I helped the naked “Cow” lower them both to the ground as they were too exhausted to do it unaided I then watched as Cow was ordered to clean them up which she did with the hose pipe used to clean the yard. As long as I live I will never forget what happened next I was tied down over the cable reel and a hood was placed over my head this was a first for me and it increased the terror ten times. The first blow came from nowhere and I screamed very loudly and forgot to count and I heard her voice remind me to. I managed for the first dozen but the pain was just to great and I could hear myself screaming for mercy the move I screamed the harder she hit me and no part of my body was safe.
When it stopped I could still hear myself pleading for mercy it was the only thing I could hear. The next thing I could feel was something huge being pushed into my cunt and my hips being gripped. This was my second taste of a strap-on it was huge it was long and it was splitting me in half and I screamed. It stopped after a some time and then I felt hands on my arse cheeks pulling them apart, it was Cow doing as she was told. The pain from the huge plastic cock up my arse was immense bigger than anything I’d had up there before and because I couldn’t see or touch it with my hands, my mind told me it was even bigger than it was. It was certainly longer than I’d experienced and for the first time lost consciousness from the torture she was inflicting on me. I passed out and Madam Tricia had an orgasm and was so pleased she gave me the honour of sleeping in her bed and licking in her own words “magnificent” pussy.
Madam Tricia the next day which was a Sunday insisted she be the one to punish me but this time I was not to be beaten, whipped or caned as she had something else in mind. A bale of straw was carried into the farmyard and I was spread-eagled over it my ankles and hands tied this, however, wasn’t what she wanted and I was untied and positioned with my rear in the air and retied once more. A bucket was placed in front of me into which Mentor and the two male slave pissed into what was already filthy stinking water. The bale was slanted down and the bucked so close to my face I had to push back to stop my head going into the bucket. I couldn’t see what was going on behind me but I soon felt it was my cheeks were being pulled apart. I involuntarily moved away and my head went into the stinking bucket and as I pulled it out my arse moved backward. One, two and then three fingers were pushed into my very sore arse hole then a fourth and each time my body with a mind of its own tried to get out of the way and my head went into the bucket as she fisted my arse hole. As I write this if I close my eyes I can still smell that water and feel her hand in my bowels and feel the pain.
At the time I could feel whoever it was (Madam) moving her fist in and out causing me great pain but it was either take the pain or drown in a bucket of piss and slime. The pain from my arse hole was so great I did lower my head into the bucket a few times to try and relieve it but it didn’t help and the pain intensified tenfold when she moved her thumb into position and pushed her whole hand inside my arse hole. My introduction to anal fisting was painful and I almost passed out again. Slowly Madam moved her hand inside me until she had her wrist up to my arse hole. Mentor moved my body until I could no longer keep my head out of the bucket of piss and slime and in my face and head straight into the filth, now thought I was about to die. One of the male slaves pulled me out of the bucket after what must have been only a few seconds but left like hours. With a quick pull on her arm, Madam pulled her hand out of my arse causing me to scream and sob. I was untied and thrown into an old pig pen and left to gather myself together.
After an hour or so Mentor came over to the pen stood on one of the rails ordered me to kneel put my head back and open my mouth, this was a day for first as he pissed over my face and into my mouth with the order to “drink” as always I did as I was told and told him “Thank you Sir” I was learning my “training” was taking root. I arrived home took a bath and slept the rest of the day and all night and most of the morning, at work later several customers and Susan asked me if I was Ok as she put it “Your walking funny” I thought to myself “So would you if you’d had a two foot plastic cock up your arse followed by some woman’s hand up to her wrist” but I just smiled and said I was fine. One person who wasn’t fine was my sister Alison as she was now the centre of attention for our parents. So to make life a little easier on her I invited her to stay with me for a break from them both and she took it with open arms.
As always Alison wanted to know what had gone on in my life and she liked to run her fingers over the welts and bruises that often covered my body. It was crazy I didn’t want to tell her and I often told her to mind her own business but she had a way of getting it out of me usually with a couple of fingers inside my cunt her lips around my nipples. I told her about Madam Tricia and how she fisted my arse and Alison asked for more details as she rubbed my clitoris. Alison told me how much I’d changed and the words cunt and arse-hole would never escape my lips just a few months ago. I explained it was what he wanted me to use and I was happy to comply and I’d not use it in front of normal people like our parents, she told me something else that night as well which should have caused the alarm bells to ring but failed to do so, “I am going to fist your arse-hole, I like the idea of making you squirm” she laughed and then bit my nipples hard.
I was back at college when he next came back on leave he arrived one day sooner than expected and I was twenty miles away in a lecture. When I arrived back I was overjoyed to see him and we spent most of the evening and all night in bed. He wanted to know how I’d had advanced with Susan and was she ready to let him fuck her. I was so jealous and he could see that straight away and asked me “Tell me what you are?” I didn’t want to answer but heard myself saying “I am a slag Master.” Tears were forming in my eyes when he told me that I was his property and he was free to do whatever he liked either with me or anybody else if I didn’t want to be his slave I was free to say so and we could end it. I begged him not to leave me and he said he had no intention of doing so but I was a slag and a whore and made me repeat it over and over until he believed I had the message. He asked me again what progress I had made and I told him Susan was ready all he had to do was go for it and she’d let him fuck her which in truth had always been the case.
I went to college with a sad heart because I knew that not only would he fuck Susan but also Alison what worried me was would he like them more than he liked fucking me. I couldn’t concentrate all day thinking about it. As it was a Friday Susan was expecting us to go out together after work but I told her I wasn’t keen but he told me to go out and have some fun which I needed almost as much as she did life had been all college and work most of the summer. We met him at The Cave and we didn’t leave until 3.30 by which time the last taxi had gone and he offered to take Susan home. The little cow told him “It’s OK I normally stay with Susan on a Friday anyway” all three of us knew what she wanted. This wasn’t the first threesome I’d had with Susan nor would it be the last not by a long stretch but licking my husband’s cum out of her arse while he fucked me in the mine was. Susan was/is one of the few women I know who really likes anal sex.
The next morning I awoke to find my best friend still asleep the other side of him and although I was no stranger to waking up with her and a man or even two men this felt odd. I went downstairs to make some breakfast and took a call from Alison who wanted to come over later and go shopping and we set a time. As I fried the bacon I could hear the tell-tale sounds of fucking from the bedroom but I stayed in the kitchen, he shouted me to come up and when I got there he told me “Susan lick my cum from Susan’s arse hole like a good girl, and suck hard get it all out.” Lick it out I did sucking for all I was worth only for him to deposit more in the same hole as soon as I had.
In the weeks to cum Susan would join us a few times and he’d fuck her on his own if I wasn’t about it became almost natural. Susan again never brought up with me was the fact she fucked my husband it was something we both took for granted and in all the years we have been friends since not a single word has passed her or my lips on the subject. There were times she seemed to appear on a daily basis and other times she didn’t see either of us for months other than at work.
As the weeks went on and got close to him leaving and returning to Dorset and my mother decided to make an effort and invited us up for Sunday lunch which was a first. It was all very civil if you don’t count the tension between him and my father. On the other hand, my brothers and most of all my sister were happy to see him the two older brothers were getting a lot of kudos from having him as a brother-in-law, while the youngest thought it was great to have one that was a Marine. Things relaxed when my husband offered to drive to the Midlands and collect something for my father, which he was trying to get quickly and was told to drop by the next day (Monday) and take fathers car as he was going to London on the train.
After dropping me off at the train station he went to my parent’s house and collected the car and Alison who invited herself to go with him. When I got home from college he wasn’t there but arrived about two hours later. When he did he flung himself on the sofa feet spread in front of him and “triggered me” taking out his cock he ordered me to kneel in front of him and suck his cock. I knelt before took out his cock and did what I was told. He asked me “Can you smell your sister on that Slag?” I wanted to pull off his cock but he held me by my hair. He came as he told me “She is tight and fucks like a little rabbit nice I think I am going to enjoy her arse if it’s half as tight as the sluts cunt” then he jerked his cock down my throat and came.
Later he told me not to discuss with Alison the fact he’d fucked her but I was to tell her whatever she wanted to know about my “sexual submission” as he called it I told him I would not ask her any questions but answer hers. This pleased him and he told me how pleased he was that “I knew my position” which I began to think was at the bottom of the food chain. Each day after college I’d come home and suck his cock in the knowledge my sister had been on the receiving of it earlier on in the day or even just before I opened the door to get in. That was the case when I arrived and Alison was sat on the sofa not looking too happy with life and when she left to meet her friend I asked him why she was not her normal self he simply said: “Because she just got fucked in the arse for the first time and hard as well.”
He was to return to Dorset that Sunday his friend Stan was picking him up mid-morning the night before I worked and as we usually did Susan and I went onto The Cave, where he would join us later. As we lived in town there was no need to drive not that he drank as we lived less than a mile away. We had a great night and after at 3 am set off walking home with a less than sober Susan clinging onto one of his arms and me just as drunk on the other. On the way we stopped and took in a window display the manikin was wearing dark red Basque stockings with a matching bra he said: “I think you should get that outfit you’d look good in it to go in Monday and get it.” On Sunday he was picked up by Stan and off he went with me feeling very alone all of a sudden.
I went to college on Monday and as it was a short day I did some shopping and arranged a few more driving lessons as he’d promised to buy me a car. I went to work that evening and went through the usual banter with the customers and although Susan wasn’t working she came in to show me her shopping. It turned out she’d been to the shop bought the dark red Basque, bra, and stockings small world isn’t it. Sitting as always on his favorite bar stool to the hulk of an ex-rugby player taking it all in and making little comments to himself but just loud enough to let me here, “I needed a real man.”
To be continued....