Chapter Thirty-Five
“I think girls like you not only enjoy the degradation, but the sense of ceding control brings a thrill... does it not?”
It does, 128 long having acquiesced to the strange paraphilia of masochism. But she cannot reply. She lies supine, tongue swirling, lips glued to the magnificent steamy moist mons of noted movie actress Florence Gale.
Cabin 7 is equipped to enthrall libertines such as Miss Florence, for she sits on a curiously crafted chair, seat open so that the Nusquam subjugant lying below can perform oral servitude. Though not one to offer the correcting pain of the sjambok, Miss Florence does demand that the hierarchy of Nusquam be respected, 128 finding her wrist bands secured to rings embedded left and right at the base of the chair, her ankle bands clipped to a spreader bar, forcing her to obscenely display her sex as she labors.
Having ridden her bull stud, squeezing and twisting nipples and pectorals in the height of ecstasy, finally commanding the Cannon to fire, Miss Florence had Shannon impressively ejaculate to her verbal cue. She now mandates that128 cleanse. Thus the oral servant licks... tasting to find that the spendings are not only copious... but understandably deep as well... the hips and thighs thrusting to draw the huge thick phallus well within as Miss Florence offered a climactic shriek and paroxysmal squeeze of both her gripping hands and clenching buttocks.
There came an interlude of afterglow after which 128 was released from her cage, drawn to the chair and restrained.
“Shannon, let’s take a walk, shall we? 128 has not before seen the milking parlor, and I have this thing about having my girl let down for me. It’s decadently exciting.”
With her words, 128’s tongue encounters more thick drooling essence, the flow forcing her to put aside her disgust and ingest.
“Yes Miss Florence,” an obsequious Shannon agrees, his $6,000 per diem emolument well earned.
Within moments, 128 senses the hot vaginal passage has been purged of sperm. Miss Florence silently concurs for she abruptly stands. Sight restored, 128 realizes that the bronzed bull stud has been quite proximate, observing her hairless cunny with masculine glee. Strangely she blushes. Well spread, she exhibits all and Miss Florence notes the level of male interest.
“Sit yourself down, Shannon... while I dress,” she politely invites.
128 is chagrined when the muscled form also utilizes the special chair, lowering to sit, scrotum and massive testicles draping over her face.
“No coming, Shannon. That’s for me. She only gets seconds.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Shannon leans forward, hands lowering, fingers finding the nipples. Such instantly crinkle, the touch knowing, tender, yet controlling.
“Always liked getting a salad toss... especially from sick little white girls,” Shannon shuffling to present his anus. “So you can taste a little more of me.”
128, all too familiar with the vernacular, feels the fingers tighten on chaste sensitive nubs. Compliance demanded, she licks, the odor repulsive.
“Yes, this is a special place, 128. Girls like you need Nusquam. A life of servitude,” the deep resonate voice soothing to counter the sense of disgust. “That feels real good. A well trained tongue. And I’m sure for you it brings both revulsion yet satiates a need... for degradation... just like Miss Florence says. Maybe the Cannon can return the favor. He’ll find your sphincter to be tight... but he’ll enter you... go nice and slow... open you... offer that feeling of capitulation you so much enjoy. I’ll take you deep. You’ll feel the Cannon in your tummy.”
The words bring a brisance... would 128 submit to that?.. could she submit to that? the Cannon the largest she has seen.
The thought brings apprehension and fear... but also intrigues. She curses herself... curses her need. She could be forced to submit to anal sodomy... or would it really be forced?
Chapter Thirty-Six
“You’ll feel better. And the lube is for your protection.”
Florence Gale’s proclamations come as she clips a leash to the steel neck collar of 128. Wrist bands and elbow bands secured closely together behind her back, forcing her to thrust forward her sizable breasts, thigh bands connected with a short hobbling chain, 128 is shamed to have to agree. The sense of ownership and control indeed brings strange comfort.
But the lube contrasts. Shannon the Cannon was relegated the duty of meticulously coating 128’s gluteal cleft, fingers recreating in penetrating her anus to assure globs of the gelatinous gel were pressed well within. To announce to all that her backside has been prepared for penetration, the slick lubricant was smeared about her buttocks, seeming to welcome sodomy from any passing Nusquam member. Thus, whereas the bondage and controlling leash bring the agreeable sense of power exchange... she giving... the preparation and indecorous gleaming cheeks bring dread... so many sodomy stanchions seeming to beckon.
“No torn rectums at Nusquam,” Miss Florence reiterates. “On toes please.”
She tugs. 128 finds she must daintily prance to follow and in lifting high the leash, it’s up on toes as desired, Master and dog departing Cabin 7.
Shannon follows, and as 128 feels the squishiness of abundant lubrication between her cheeks she must wonder whether he will act on his threat, the sodomy stanchions many.
“I have a girl who I must milk from time to time. Since I had her rendered to Nusquam, it’s a prerogative I cannot pass up. Cost me a small fortune to arrange her stay here. But revenge has its merits for a woman of my ilk... and I tend to revel in it. Besides the craving for big black cock, there is another of deep secret which the Hollywood tabloids must never uncover... this wrathful need to stifle competition and slake vengeance on those who challenge my career.”
Miss Florence speaks as she leads, a firm hand communicating her authority with occasional quick tugs. Shannon follows, 128 having no doubt her gleaming buttocks a target of the Cannon.
It’s a typical hot and sunny day in the tropics and with the nee