Katlin and Missy: Ch 1 – Abduction


Cathy: This is a rewrite of a story I thought up several years ago.

Katlin and Missy: Chapter 1 – Abduction


A sharp pain in the neck awoke me. I couldn’t concentrate, could hardly remember my own name, and it took a while for me to realize that I was cuffed hand and foot and attached face down on a large bed, naked. A fifteen year old girl has lots of fantasies about loosing her virginity. Some had included bondage. None had included the pain I was feeling in my wrists and ankles. The cuffs were padded. But they were not comfortable. Padded was bad. It implied that the person who’d put me here intended to keep me this way for a while.

Being strapped spread eagle was only one of my fantasies, and far from my favorite, even without the pain I was in. There was a pain in my ass. Actually more like an ache. But it was constant, not going away. The pain in my neck, probably caused by this collar I was wearing, had been sharp, sudden, and short lived. It had been so bad that just the memory of it was much worse than the mere discomfort my ass was feeling.

I had tried to scream. But there was a ball in my mouth, held inside by a strap. Screaming into a ball gag is not very satisfying. I thought about my fanny. My boyfriends call me a “piece of ass”, though not to my face. I’ve often wondered what anal sex would feel like. But first I’d like to do it the normal way. Not that I haven’t been fingered by a boy. Two actually. Both times I was sort of “resisting” and still had my panties on. But in private I’ve done a lot more than that to myself. According to Annie, the dildo she gave me is about average for a man. Certainly bigger than boyfriends’ fingers. And I’ve had the dildo completely inside myself. I guess I’m only technically a virgin. I’ve thought about trying it inside my fanny. But that’s all I’ve done. Thought about it.

Well, something was inside my fanny. If it was a dildo it wasn’t shaped like mine because it was stuck inside me. Mine is a simple man shaped cylinder and would have slid out. Whatever this was felt big inside my rectum. Either that or I was full of shit. Possibly both. How long had it been since I’d had a BM? For that matter how long had I been tied up here? I couldn’t remember being abducted. My last memories were hazy. I could remember being in class thinking about walking home afterwards. Mom didn’t like me walking home by myself. But I always came directly home by the same route. I’d been kidnapped! Was I a random victim? My father was moderately rich. But the way I was trussed up had sexual and sadistic overtones.

Suddenly the thing in my fanny started vibrating! It felt .. well, I couldn’t describe it. After a few seconds I decided it felt good. In fact it was starting to feel very good. The pleasure was definitely overriding the slight discomfort of being stretched open. I heard footsteps of someone entering the room. They were the light footsteps of a woman. An unfriendly female voice started talking to me quietly.

“So, my darling. You’ve felt my pain and my pleasure. I can give you much more of either. Does the gag bother you? I’ll take it out after you’ve learned a little disipline. The first rule is never scream. Even if I kill you, you will die quietly. Because if you yell I guarantee I can make your death much, much worse. If you’re a good girl maybe I won’t have to kill you. I’m not supposed to unless it’s necessary.

“Second rule is only answer questions. If I give you permission you may ask me one question. But I have not given you permission. Understood?”

As she said it I suddenly felt another sharp but very quick pain in my neck. It was a dog collar and she had a radio control for it. I tried to nod my head yes. I was scared shitless. I would have done anything she asked.

“There are many ways I can hurt you. The neck collar is just the most convenient. It’s been epoxied closed and can only be removed by cutting the strap using heavy shears. So if and when I release your hands, don’t bother trying to remove it. Besides, I’ll also punish you if you try. Here is another of the many ways I can hurt you.”

There was suddenly a sharp pain inside my rectum. The vibrating never stopped. But I could not again feel the good vibrations for many minutes. This pain in my ass was terrible. Even worse than the pain in my neck.

“Our little anal toy is a real speciality item. It’s used like this with a prisoner. Men find it really intimidating. One shot usually knocks all the fight out of them. Girls can tolerate it better. It’s marketed for the use of masochistic females. Can’t even imagine some women actually enjoying that kind of pain? Eventually you will.”

I couldn’t imagine anyone, male, female, homo, ever learning to enjoy the electric shock. But for some reason, as the pain faded I discovered I was enjoying the anal vibrator much more. God! I’d never yet managed to give myself an orgasm. I’d never even come this close. I could feel my clit and nipples harden and swell. My jailor, or mistress as she later insisted I call her, was not surprised by my reaction. She had expected it.

“If I keep it up I can make you cum. You’ve never cume, have you? You aren’t physically a virgin. I checked. But maybe you’ve never really had a man. Be good and maybe you’ll live long enough to get the chance.”

I guess that’s why my pussy felt a little sore. Not really sore, just used like when I’d just played with myself.

“Actually, I can make you cum much more easily. The anal plug is there more for punishment. So!”

She had leaned forward from the chair she was sitting in and pushed up on my bottom. I’ve never been rebellious, always obeyed my parents, that sort of thing. I was not the stuff that martyrs are made of. I followed her directions as best I could. There was a large pillow under my stomach. With my ankles secured to the bed corners, my legs were wide apart. Even if I’d had the will to try and resist her I could have done nothing to protect my crotch from further invasion. The vibrations in my fanny even destroyed my interest in doing so. My body wanted her to do things to it, things my body instinctively understood even if I could only imagine them.

Following her tactile instructions, I relaxed my thigh muscles and tried to rotate my pelvis making myself as accessible as possible, like a cat in heat, posturing. A touch of her fingers inside my pussy lips and a gob of lubricant. There was nothing gentle or friendly about her touch. But I pretty much knew what she was about to do to me and was greatful for the preparation eventhough the anal stimulation was already making me wet myself.

The impailment was sudden, intimidating and took my breath away. I immediately felt myself uncomfortably full. The shaft felt bigger than my own dildo. I had always inserted mine slowly, enjoying the delightful parting of my pussy lips, the stretching of my insides. Nor had I ever had an anal stuffer inside my rectum. The pressure between the two inserts was strange, disconcerting. I felt violated. Delightfully so.

“So, no trouble there. You actually enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

I missed the question, and my lack of response brought me a short pain in the neck. Was it my fault that I was too distracted? I’d never suffered anal penetration before, and never been DP’d. But the pain was a perfect reminder. I vigorously nodded my head being unable to respond verbally with the gag in my mouth.

“I’ve done this before. I’m good at it so I get contracts. I’ve found that men respond best when they fear damage to their testicles. But females are used to having their genitals abused. Often we even enjoy it. Simple pain doesn’t work as well with women, especially ones older than you. Instead, I give girls pleasure so painful that they lose all self respect. I can and will make you a sex pain addict. And you will pray that the police never catch me because death will escort izmit seem better than letting your friends and family know what I have turned you into. Right now you are only afraid of me. Soon you will hate me. But you will also learn to love me, or at least love what I do to you. Which is why you will hate me.”

The vaginal dildo had an attachment, a hood that extended up in front of me, filling my cunt opening, cupping my clitoris. There was a strap attached to this extension that she clipped to a cord already around my waist. I’d barely been aware of the waist cord as it was neither tight nor uncomfortable. More straps from the base of the dildo were attached to the waist cord behind me, one passing on each side of the anal insert. She tightened all three straps. I could feel the thing pressing into my vagina. But mostly I was aware of the pressure on my clitoris. Even that was disturbing. When she turned on the vibrator, I simply lost my mind.

My first orgasm ever was very strong and very painful. Nor had I any warning. This woman could just press a button and change me into a rutting slut incapable of conscious thought. In my young life I’d never heard of such a piece of equipment. I blanked out within seconds.

“Too much excitement my sweetie?”

Barely conscious, yet I had no trouble recognizing her imitation of the witch in the Oz movie. But this woman was a real stinker. The things she hinted at, even the things she’d already done to me could never be mentioned in a PG movie. Nor were you allowed to tell the kiddies about sex domination. I was the victim of a professional sadist.

“Ok, we’ll do it a little slower this time.”

The probe, both probes, were still inside me, the one in my rear still vibrating when I regained consciousness. I’d definitely orgasmed. My clit was happy and sore and the sheet under my crotch soaking. The tickling in my anus was exciting me and I knew if she did nothing else, that alone would send me over the edge again, now that I’d been there once. It was actually very pleasant feeling my second climax slowly building. Maybe this time I’d stay conscious and enjoy all of it.

But such peaceful excitement was not to be. Again I felt my clit mechanically manipulated. The vibration level was much less intense this time, but still far more than enough. Perhaps I was becoming more sensitive. Suddenly I felt my virgin nipples squirt out milk, though later I discovered that this had not really happened. It only felt like I was suddenly lactating. I was not used to the way they swelled to bursting just before an orgasm. My clit also seemed to rupture with pressure in response to the terrible, erotic stimulation. There are jokes about fucking machines. Apparently they actually exist.

I was already beginning to understand her comments about making me a sex pain addict. I would never dare tell my parents about these orgasms. It was shameful being so slutty, even if I’d had no control over my transformation.

“Well, that’s it for now. I’ll be back eventually. I wonder which you’ll want first, a drink of water or another shot to your clit? You’ll soon be begging me for both.”


The clit vibrator had been turned off. But the hood still cupped and enfolded that private part of my anatomy, and the dildo was still deep inside me. Worse still, the anal plug was still vibrating. Being left alone was another kind of torture. Machinery was doing things to me with no human supervision. I could feel yet another orgasm slowly building. Eventually my third climax hit me, force out of me by an anal vibrator. I lost track of my orgasms. The vibrator continued doing it’s thing and I did mine in response about every twenty minutes. It had to be battery operated, but the battery never seemed to run down. None of my flows were as large as the first, but none were small. The puddle under my crotch kept getting bigger and bigger. There was a plastic protector under the sheet so the mattress did not soak away my love juices. They stayed on top and I was eventually swimming in my own cume. But because of the continuous vibrations and my orgasmic responses, I was hardly aware of the sticky mess.

I have no real knowledge of how long I remained cuffed spread eagle on the bed or how long I’d been in captivity. Almost a year later, the police woman who was interviewing me offered the opinion that they’d probably drugged me several ways, a simple knock out drug during the abduction, then a thing called date rape which makes a girl very compliant and also causes short term memory loss. This was probably why I still can’t remember the abduction itself. “Very professional” was her assessment. My abductors made certain that I could offer the police virtually no useful information. The effects of the second drug may have partially explained why I was initially so receptive to the sexual abuse. Later on though, it was simply the fact that I’d learned to love it.

I remember one last orgasm, pinfully sweet and intense. My mistress had apparently radioed a signal to my vaginal exciter and the orgasms that thing gave me always left me incapable of conscious thought. It was probably not the maximum level because I did manage to consciously enjoy my entire climax. A few seconds afterward both vibrators stopped and almost instantly I fell into deep sleep. I dreamed I’d gone to heaven and Saint Peter had assigned me to the house of pleasure where I was expected to please the angles with my vagina and the devils with my fanny. I loved mister Peter for being so nice to me. I woke up still naked, my legs wide apart, but my wrist cuffs no longer attached to the headboard. The cuffs were not uncomfortable when they were just attached around my wrists. I could pretend they were bracelets.

During that first week, which I spent mostly alone on that bed, the mistress often put me to sleep by using an overdose of pleasure. I loved this the first time and every time. I guess I’m a natural born slut.

When I awoke my brain was not incapacitated like it had been the first time. I could remember clearly going to sleep with the dildos inside me. I could remember the intense pleasure. When I moved, I heard a quiet voice, apparently that of the mistress, but distorted somewhat by speakers. There was no one else in the room. But there were four video cameras and no place in the room where you could do anything unobserved.

“You may use the bathroom. Remove either or both dildos as necessary, but for no longer than necessary. There is a glass. If you do it carefully you will find you can drink slowly without removing the gag. Don’t remove the gag. When you have proved you can keep quiet we’ll let you drink normally with the gag off.”

I looked around the room for the first time. The cameras were in each corner up against the ceiling. There was a window high in one wall, and small, like the ones they put in basements. The view out was blocked by a translucent panel on the outside. Light was coming in so I knew it was daytime but the overhead lights were on as always. There were two doors, one closed, probably locked. And another slightly ajar that went into a bathroom. Since I had permission I went in.

The bathroom also had an assortment of monitor cameras. But I no longer cared if someone watched me wipe myself. I was beyond caring about anything as trivial as modesty. I was becoming a pain slut. Perhaps I’d also become an exhibitionist. Perhaps I always was one but never before knew it. I thought about the mistress watching my every move. Suddenly I realized that, what I really wanted was to parade around naked like this in front of men, not just a female jailor. Was there no limit to my own degradation?

As soon as I took out the dildos I knew I had to empty myself both ways. The pressure in both my rectum and bladder was probably the worst discomfort I’d been feeling, my abused body so confused I didn’t know it. The anal plug had shit on it but before I could izmit escort do anything I had to sit down quick. I exploded immediately in both places. The relief was painful. After a while I got up, wiped myself, flushed and began cleaning the anal dildo in the toilet bowl. There was lube available and a douche pump. I’d just figured out what it was when the voice came on again, proving that even in here my every move was being observed.

“You don’t need to wash out your fanny before putting the plug back in. It certainly doesn’t care. But when you are preparing yourself for a man you’ll probably want to offer him a clean rectum. Even a girl getting raped prefers not having the shit fucked out of her, inspite of the saying.”

The idea that I might eventually experience a real man was exciting. I was now a slut. At least I should enjoy being one. Hell, I guess I was still in theory a virgin, though I’d probably had more orgasms in two days than some married women had in a year. It seemed funny wiping myself, finishing up, washing, and not getting dressed. I was only following directions. But actively cooperating forced me over some sort of imaginary line. I felt like the girl who’d been raped and was hoping her assailant would do it again.

It took a long time to drink a glass of water with the ball in my mouth. I was very thirsty and drank several glasses. When I was done with my toiletry I was told by the quiet voice to get back on the bed and reattach my ankles again to the straps. Because it was easier I did it sitting up. Which left me spread eagle but this time face up. A sudden full level of pleasure pain in my clit gave me only a second of conscious delight before sending me off to never-never land.

When I awoke I was turned over, again face down, strapped to the four corners of the bed. The mistress was there in the room with me. My fanny felt strange, my rectum almost empty, my asshole being stretched. The dildo was as large as the one in my pussy, but cylinder shaped. It was not a plug. The one that I’d removed to empty my bowels and then put back, was bullet shaped, a round pointed two inch thick blob about five inches long. Between the blob and the base the thing necked down about an inch. For most of a week my sphincter would be parked around this neck, eventually becoming accustomed to being held open an inch. Before the end of the week it felt good having the thing inside me.

The mistress probably woke me removing the plug. This never hurt as much as inserting the thing. The new dildo might have been slighter thinner, but did not taper. There would be no particular relief when she shoved it all the way in. Not ever having had anal sex with a man I could only assume a penis would feel like this. The plug, however, was certainly nothing like a male erection.

Being shafted was different. If this new dildo had a vibrator in it, the woman didn’t activate the thing. She just fucked my ass with it the way a man would. Or at least the way I thought a man would. Eventually I would discover that a man sticking his penis inside my fanny was much more pleasant than feeling this hard cold thing slowly and repeatedly impailing my heinie. I’m not sure why she was there doing it. It was intimidating and not actually pleasant the way the plug was when she turned on the vibrator. I was neither being pleasured nor punished. Perhaps I was just being taught to readily accept anal insertion of any form. I would not have dared ask even if I didn’t have a gag in my mouth. I have a theory that sometimes she did things to me out of boredom. During this time she said nothing. When she was done, she reinserted the plug.


At some point another girl was dragged in the room and attached to wall restraints. These were arranged so that she was also spread eagle, but hanging from her wrists with her feet forced far apart. I hoped for her sake her wrist restraints were better padded than mine. The girl looked demolished. There was around her waist a cord, like the one I wore. It secured one or two dildos. Since I was nearing another orgasm and had a poor view of her, I could make out few details. I could see that she also wore a gag and had a cute little ass. Since she was facing the wall I couldn’t see the clips attached to her nipples. She was hardly aware of this abuse her tits were suffering. A few minutes after my next climax my anal vibrator shut off. Almost immediately I fell asleep. I may have felt sorry for the girl tied upright to the wall but could do nothing about it. With the gag in my mouth I couldn’t even give her words of sympathy. Nor would I have dared.

When I awoke the other girl was sitting on the floor, her ankles still secured far apart. Her arms were now secured behind her, wrists to opposite elbows. The dildos were still there, her weight pressing the vaginal one even harder inside her. This time I could see clearly because my arms had been released and I could push myself up somewhat.

“You can release yourself and then your friend. But do not attempt to remove either the collars or the dildos. You may whisper only. Ask me no questions. I won’t warn you again. You will be punished if you do not do exactly what I say.”

As usual, it was not easy to reach my ankle releases. I was in no particular pain, but I could see the other girl was. For her sake I worked as quickly as I could.

She was in much worse shape than me. I recognized her but eventually I had to tell her who I was. They had done something to her eyes and she had to keep them almost closed. Her name was Missy. Normally she was a very pretty little girl, a few months younger than me, and very petite. Right now she was bedraggled and naked. I found this very erotic. Were I a male and free to do as I wanted I’d have raped her. I guess what had been happening inside my pussy and rectum had changed me, hopefully not permanently. I wasn’t sure I liked the fact that the sight of her pert little tits, abused pussy, stuffed anus, overall helplessness, and sexy body were turning me on.

We were friends as much as her mother would allow. Our fathers had been close friends in high school, partners since college. Unfortunately Missy’s mother hated mine on principle because Kara, my mom, and Larry, her dad, had been lovers in college. Mary was opposed to extra-marrital and even pre-marital sex, especially for women. All her husband’s earlier lovers were, by definition, sluts. That fact that mom had ended up marrying Larry’s friend, was unfortunate. It would have been much easier for Mary to simply dismiss my mom as another faceless whore instead of someone she periodicly had to see at company functions. Missy’s mom had few friends outside her church group. I got to see Missy a few times a year. She seemed like a nice person inspite of her mother. My impression was she was very sheltered. She went to what was probably the only all girl’s high school in the city.

The voice from the speaker didn’t say anything about her nipple clips, so I assumed I was supposed to take them off. This was actually the first thing I did after releasing myself. Missy’s nips had gone numb. But when the blood flowed back in, she was suddenly in terrible agony and tried to scream. I was glad I had not yet taken her gag off, remembering the prohibition against making any noise above a whisper. I didn’t want to be punished, even if it meant letting her suffer. But this was not yet a choice I had to make.

Next I released her arms, which she could hardly move. I had to release her ankles for her, which would have been hard for her to reach even if her arms had been functioning. The release on her gag was difficult to operate even with it right in front of me. By then she’d stopped trying to scream. Either the pain in her nipples had diminished or she’d gotten used to it. By the looks of her she’d had to get used to a lot of pain. She made no attempt to say anything and seemed oblivious even to the fact that she izmit kendi evi olan escort was still sitting on the vaginal dildo. Perhaps it had been pressed in there for so long she no longer noticed. I hardly noticed mine, though I did avoid sitting on it. The voice gave me a reason to leave it inside. I knew that were it removed now after all those orgasms, I’d have mixed feelings. My cunt could use the rest. But like the one in my fanny, it was starting to feel like an old friend there inside me.

As far as I knew my vaginal dildo only had a pleasure purpose and no electric shock circuit. Eventually the mistress would so condition me that I would actually be greatful for the anal pain circuit that was always ready to chastise me. The neck pain was never directly erotic. But during my many, many orgasms the mistress would sometimes give me a quick jolt in the rectum which felt like pure pleasure. Other times it only hurt, but since I deserved it, I was happy to be punished. When I had to remove my plug temporarily to empty my bowels, I always returned it to it’s rightful place as quickly as possible.

I tried to whisper something to Missy and realized I still had my gag in place. When I tried to unfasten it I found I could not. It should have been possible, and felt like the same mechanism. But using my hands behind my head wasn’t working. I’d have to wait for Missy to recover enough to do it.

Helping her to her feet, I guided my pretty little friend over to the bed, where she gladly laid down on the soft surface. Once again the sheet had been changed while I was sleeping.

Missy obeyed my directions as faithfully as she would have our mistress. I decided that she had not yet realized I was a fellow victim and that I was only trying to help her. She laid down on the bed, face up, her arms flopped on each side. By now she could at least lift them but nothing beyond that. As much as I’d have liked to suck her pretty nipples, they actually needed no attention. I spent my time massaging her arms and admiring her body. For some reason she kept her legs wide apart giving me a perfect view of her dildo filled crotch. The one in her vagina, like mine, included the clitoris stimulating hood. Because of the angle and no mirror available, I could not see my own crotch this well. The hood fit inside Missy’s lips, spreading but not hiding them. The front cord holding the thing up inside her and firm against the clit, would have disappeared inside her had the hood been smaller and her lips been allowed to close.

I kept rubbing her arms, but couldn’t take my eyes off her virginal cunt lips. Missy is blond and has light pubic hair. It’s also very sparse probably because of her young age. From a distance it looks like she doesn’t yet have any pubic hair. I couldn’t help myself and leaned forward touching her lips as lightly as possible, wanting to feel her fine hair, but not wanting her to feel me doing it. As if! She felt me allright. A strong sigh excaped her lips. She dared say nothing. But clearly her body, like mine, had been conditioned to want this. Only for her the conditioning must have taken a lot more pain. Though technically a virgin, I was probably a rutting whore when I arrived compared to my little god fearing friend.

I did not, however, give her what her body obviously wanted. For several reasons. I didn’t know if our mistress wanted it and I was not about to do anything without her permission! I was definitely not about to take the dildo out against orders, and couldn’t imagine what I could do to help Missy with it still in the way. I wanted desperately to lick her pussy and still had the damned gag in my mouth. So I went back to being a good girl and continued massaging Missy’s arms. Eventually I noticed that she was sleeping and probably had been even when I’d touched her lips. Even in her sleep she didn’t dare close her legs. This strong command was unique to her “taming”. I’d shown little desire to hide my genitals and no special effort was expended to break me of such a habit. Almost from the beginning I’d demonstrated an eagerness to assume vulnerable positions, the way I assumed a girl did for her lover. If either of my boyfriends had insisted, I would have gladly given up my virginity.


I walked out of the bathroom and discovered that Missy was awake and looking a little better.

I sat down next to her while she sat up. I pointed to my mouth and turned away offering her the back of my head. She seemed to notice for the first time that I was wearing a gag and immediately began trying to unfasten it. Eventually she did. But it took her even longer to get mine off than it took me to get hers off.

“Hi Missy.”

“You know me?”

“I’m Katkin, Kate Lane. Don’t your eyes work?”

“No. But they’re getting better I think. They did something with drops. I don’t know why and don’t dare ask. I’m not allowed to ask anything.”

“I know. Pain in the neck, right?”

“Usually. Sometimes in the fanny. Are we allowed to talk?”

“Only if we whisper. They can probably hear us no matter how quietly we talk, so I guess they’d rather we not talk out loud. They can see us anywhere in this room and in the bathroom.”

“There’s a bathroom? Are we allowed to use it? She’s been sticking me on a pottie. I’ve been here maybe a week and this is the first time I’ve had my arms free. She pulls the dildos out, gives me a few minutes to do it, then shoves them back in. There’s always shit on the anal one, but I guess it doesn’t matter much since it goes right back in the same place. Do we take them out ourselves? Are we allowed to wipe?”

“Yes. Be careful when you remove the plugs. Have the toilet bowl ready. I exploded within seconds the first time I used it. After you clean up you have to put them back in.”

“Of course. You know, I’ve been shocked so many times I think I’d feel funny if it stopped. She’s made you like it hasn’t she? She’s turned me into an anal pain slut. Those were her words, and now I know exactly what she meant. If we live long enough I’d like to try normal sex. But I think she’s probably ruined me. All I can think about is wanting that thing in my pussy and wanting her to turn it on. I don’t even want to do it myself. I want her to do it. I want her to control me. I think I like being controlled almost as much as I love the orgasms. Pretty sick, huh?”

That needed no response. We were both in the same boat, or whore house, or whatever this was. I watched her go into the bathroom. Missy was so far gone she didn’t even bother closing the door. Maybe she didn’t even care whether I watched her empty herself, knowing our mistress would. When she was done she came out, dildos back in place, and sat next to me on the bed.

“Did she explain about the anal douche equipment?”


“Oh. Well, apparently when we’re preparing ourselves for receiving a real penis in the heinie we’re supposed to make ourselves clean inside.”

She looked at me wide eyed. I could tell that the idea interested her. Most fifteen year old virgins would have mixed feelings about the prospect of being raped. Clearly what our mistress had in mind included anal as well as vaginal cherry popping. But after being raped into sluthood by mechanical dildos, Missy and I both felt we’d been denied one of the benefits of being deflowered: sharing our status with a male. After all, what’s the point of having both love holes stretched like ours had been, suffering orgasms until we were thoroughly addicted to them and not having felt a man inside you? I knew my body craved real male flesh, the joy of being penetrated by a phalus that would enjoy being inside me as much as I enjoyed being impailed.

Like me Missy was looking forward to the pleasure of feeling a real penis inside her love holes. Of course, we both knew that a male master would be even more cruel than our mistress. He would use us and abuse us and after a week of indoctrination neither of us could imagine not enjoying it. It turned out one of our assumptions was dead wrong.

next chapter – Their Random Lover

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