Unknown - Gwen gets beaten

"You're a sex machine," I breathed.

I slid my fingers against her lips, circling them, then sliding them inside. Her mouth, and even her tongue seemed dry, and I hoped she wasn't getting too dehydrated. A little was good for now, but not too much.

I went over to the tub next to the washing machine and poured a cup of cold water, then returned and squatted down in front of her. I dipped my fingers into the water and put them into her mouth, and she moaned and sucked greedily.

I pulled my fingers out, dipped them into the water, and again slid them into her mouth for her to suck. I did this a few more times, then grinned and dipped my hard prick, into the water. I pushed my boner against her mouth and she sucked it in mindlessly.

Man! What mom and dad would shit a brick if they knew there precious little virgin was sucking my cock right now!

I let her suck it dry, then slid it out and soaked it again before pushing it back into her mouth. What all this was gonna do to the little slut's mind I wasn't sure, but I hoped it was turning her into a real sex-crazed nympho.

I was pretty sure, for instance, that her heat at being strung up and whipped came from the association she had between pain and pleasure, from the spankings I gave her where she climaxed so nicely.

I hadn't yet questioned her much, but I didn't think she had much, if any sexual experience prior to that. So now, if she wanted, in her feverish mind, to associate cock with sustenance, well hey, that wasn't a bad thing at all.

I let her suck from it as I repeatedly dipped my prick in the water. She slurped thirstily, her tongue moving quickly as she licked it dry.

She must be fairly hungry by now too. She hadn't had anything since breakfast, and she had sure put in an energetic day. But I wanted her hungry, or at least, without any protein. I didn't need her mind functioning at any kind of efficient level. I wanted it tired and run down, easy to mould and twist.

I didn't just want to be able to use her, I wanted to own her, body and soul. I wanted her to belong to me, to be like my dog, my slave.

My hunger for her hadn't lessened with familiarity at all, quite the opposite. The more I saw the hot little slut, the more I enjoyed her luscious young body, and the more I wanted it and her.

Like the chinks did, I would break her mind, then put it back together the way I wanted it.

I started pumping her mouth as the pleasure rose, higher inside me, and soon I was clutching her sweaty hair and groaning as I fucked into her deeper and deeper. Then I came, filling her mouth with slippery white sperm.

She sucked it down instantly, still slurping and licking and sucking at my cock as I slowed my pumping.

I grinned in amusement then stood up and pushed my dick back into my pants. I considered leaving her for another few hours, but hell, that was boring.

I looked up above her, then pulled over a chair and stood up. I unhooked the chain from one of her ankles, then let it go. It fell back and she moaned and whined, hanging from one ankle as I stepped down and looked at her.

I laughed, then gave her a hard push, making her swing back and forth wildly. She whimpered and whined in dazed confusion and discomfort.

I let her swing for a couple of minutes, then grabbed her ankle and lifted it up again. I stepped on the chair and hauled her ankle over, spreading her legs wide apart and hooking her ankle restraint to a chain several feet away from the fist one.

I stepped down again and pushed the chair back. I tugged at the cords, slowly prying the vibrators out of her asshole and slit and turning them off. I put them away, then left her there hanging with her legs apart, going upstairs. I came back down with a small pair of scissors, a razor, some shaving cream, some soap, and a washcloth. I hooked a hose to the faucet by the washing machine, moved everything back from where she was hanging, then sprayed her with ice cold water.

She yelled and cursed and swung on the chains, but her movement was, of course, much less than it had been when hanging from just the one chain, and there was nothing she could do in any case.

It had been about four hours since I'd whipped and caned her. Her ass had a few fading red marks on it from the cane. The marks from the flogger had disappeared from her back. The welts from the crop were still clearly visible, however, and I was betting they were kind of sore as I sprayed water over them.

I sprayed up and down, making the power go up and down, shifting the strength of the spray. Then I turned it off and went back to the faucet I turned on the hot water and tested the water until it was hot, not burning hot, of course, but hot.

I went back to Gwen and turned on the hose and she screeched as her cold dripping flesh was hit by the hot water. Again she bounced and thrashed and shook, cursing and moaning and sobbing in discomfort.

I turned off the hose and picked up the soap, then soaped up the washcloth and began to scrub her down. I started at her toes, and worked my way down her legs, using my hand and the cloth, stroking along her thighs to her crotch, then rubbing that. I scrubbed her ass, then moved down her belly.

She didn't talk much.

"What are you doing?" she moaned when I started.

"I'm cleaning you, you slutty, filthy, little tramp," I replied.

She moaned softly and didn't speak again.

I spent a considerable amount of time really soaping up her boobs, putting down a thick layer of soap over them, squeezing them in my hands, mashing and mauling the slippery mounds out of pure pleasure at the feel of them.

I moved behind her and uncipped her wrist restraints. Her hands fell almost to the floor. Then I soaped up her arms and shoulders, and finally her back. I was gentle with her back than anywhere else, not using the washcloth, just my hands, but she still whimpered and moaned in pain.

I had picked up a salve at the store that was to be used on welts and bruises, and decided to use it on her later. For now I wanted her clean.

I pushed the soapy washcloth down into her cunt and pulled it back out again, then looked at her hair. Well, I had forgotten the shampoo, so I'd just use soap.

I knelt and ran soapy hands through her hair, mashing and squeezing it, pulling it together, adding the bar of soap and working up a head of lather. Then I soaped up her face, of course, and stood back to admire my handiwork.

From head to toe she was coated in slippery white soap. She had to keep her eyes closed to keep it out of them. I slid my hand over her crotch and began rubbing her clit, sliding two fingers back and forth in her slit, stroking her clitty.

She started whimpering and groaning, calling my name softly. Her slick lathered body started to jerk and twist, and when I slipped my fingers down her hole and fucked into her she came with a soft, gurgling moan of delight.

I sat back on my heels as she went still, and watched her for a minute.

"Are you a slut, Gwen?"

She panted for breath and groaned.

"Answer me."

"Ye… yes," she gasped.

"Are you a whore?"

"Yes," she whispered.

I slapped her face lightly.

"Yes, Michael," she moaned.

"Are you my fuck toy?"

"Yes, Michael."

"Say it then."

"I… I'm thirsty."

WHACK! I slapped her soapy cunt with the palm of my hand. Not to hard, but hard enough to rattle her. "Say it, SLUT!"

"I'm… your fuck toy, Michael," she gasped. "I'm your whore, your slut."

"Do I own you, SLUT? Do I own you? Do I?"

"Y… y… yes," she gasped.

WHACK! "Say it, slut."

"Y… you own me."

WHACK! "What?"

"You own me, Michael."

I grinned and stroked her pussy, then picked up the hose and rinsed her off. I paid particular attention to her snatch, pushing the nozzle right down through her pussy lips so the water gushed out around it. I fucked her with the nozzle for a minute, and pelting her clitty with the spray. She was soon coming, yelping and moaning and crying out in pleasure.