BDSM Library - Story: Family Values, Chapter: Part 1

Family Values

Prolog

Our government estimates that 17,500 people are trafficked into the United States for the purposes of slavery every year. Other estimates are even higher. The vast majority end up working in the fields, the garment industry, warehouses, restaurants or brothels. Some end up being sold to private individuals and households. Of those sold to households, most become servants. Still, there are a percent, a small percent. Between four and five percent are sold to be used for sex. Of those another percent, this one not so small, are sold to households and individuals of a sadistic nature. That circle is rather small; it’s not a group of people that get together for tennis or tea. Of course most of us are aware of the other families in our circle, we have to be. Ours is a small world, but one with rules. At an average cost of $35,000 for a slave for Eastern Europe or $25,000 for a slave from South America or Asia, it is my nature an affluent crowd, a very affluent crowd.

We are for all intensive purposes the perfect all American family. My husband is a leader in our local branch of the Republican Party. Our son 14 and daughter 17 are both tall and blond, taking after their father with perfect manicured looks and excellent grades from the best private schools in a very desirable suburb of Portland, I won’t tell you exactly which one. Our donations have secured me a seat on the board of elders at our church and I am chairwoman of several small but well funded charities that tend to be well known and received among certain local circles but not much heard of otherwise. Our home itself sits on a 35 acre parcel about 20 minutes outside the city where the green hills and burbling streams take over from the concrete and high-rises of Portland. When friends or business associates come over for coffee or dinner or even to stay for a visit, they have no idea of the other world that exists in the basement, the world that we bring up into the main house only after they all have left. That world we don’t share, it’s a family thing.

Chapter 1

I put the last load of laundry in the washer and clicked the huge machine on, heading to the kitchen to make a sandwich. My friends all commented about how independent and modern I was, not having such things taken care of by a housekeeper, cook or maid. There was of course no question we could afford such servants if we wanted them, but of course no regular help could be trusted to keep quiet about our little hobbies and those serving inside the household could not be trusted around cutlery or chemicals.

We did of course did keep help in the world below as did all the households such as ours. Just one who would stay with us for a few years. After that she would be replaced by another, a trustee if you will. Of course we had a service come twice a week to clean the house as well, we were not barbarians after all, but a service is simply not the same thing as the live in servants that a household of our size and prestige typically employs. While our household does not rank among the number of billionaires in America, we are in a class not far short of that prestigious alum.

I finished making my sandwich, a lean turkey with tart cranberry relish and double cream brie and cut it into two halves, placing one on a small bone china plate I made my way to the door leading to my daughter Victoria’s room. A small electronic video pad outside the door indicated that the room was occupied but not locked and no privacy was requested. Outside in the hallway there was not a sound, it was dead quiet except for the low hum of the washer in the other room and the quiet tick of the grandfather clock at the other end of the hall.

The shrill scream assaulted my ears the moment I opened the door along with the pulsing sound of trance rock blasting out of speakers hung high on the vaulted ceiling. The screams were also coming out of the speakers but their source was not the CD piping in the trance rock, the source was a frantic thin girl with light brown skin and small baseball sized hard tits tipped with long dark nipples. The nipples were currently clamped with small sharp toothy clips that crushed and tore at them but did not quite draw blood, at least not much. I think she was about 15, but really who knew? The source of her piercing screams however were not the clamps on her nipples, which while painful I am sure were not enough to cause this level of racket. No, the source was my daughter Victoria behind her with a long thin rod, much like a knitting needle with a cord attached. I moved quietly around to see exactly what my precious daughter was doing. Victoria did not look up from her work but was I am sure aware the minute I entered the room. Being unsure about exactly what was happening around you was simply not an option for anyone in our family.

The girl in question was a thin pretty little thing from Argentina with an innocent doll like face, now distorted in pain, who we called Lucy, She was secured to a frame shaped much like a bench made of thick bars and decorated with leather straps to hold her in place. The back end was raised in with a half moon shape of plastic to force the young girls small round butt up and the splayed legs secured her knees far apart so my beautiful daughter could work on her nasty little spic cunt without being crowded. The long thin rod was attached via a cord to a box lying on the floor just under the bench like frame. A second wire came from it and was attached to the spic girls mound just above her slit. The rod of course completed the circuit whenever it touched sending deliciously painful current into the little brown girl.

As I moved to get a better view I could see that the little spics cunt lips were being pulled open by small bungee cords hooked into the thin silver rings that my son Sterling had decorated her inner labia with when we first got her home a week ago. Of course Sterling had taken all things silver as his trademark, he was at that age when he found things like that unbelievably humorous and had little regard for whether others did as well. The inside her teenage cunt was a nice rosy pink contrasted by the dark rim of her spic pussy lips.

My lovely daughter was currently moving the thin rod in small circles around little Lucy’s lovely pink clit as the girl shook and convulsed on the frame and above all else, screamed and screamed. It was the screams my daughter was collecting today, recording actually, mixed with the music and captured on her computer to be transferred to her Ipod when she was done so she could enjoy the cruel mix as she drove back to school after the lunch break. That was all that my daughter wanted with her right now, her screams and suffering for a music mix. And who could deny her? Certainly not me, and why would I want to? I placed the sandwich down on her side table carefully as to not make any noise and spoil the recording, though at the volume everything was at I would have to smash the plate to even have it be heard and I settled in to watch, playing with my now wet pussy and coming twice as she electrocuted the girls now bright red clit over and over, varying the screams by increasing and decreasing the power and frequency of the current to make a perverted symphony. I am so proud of my girl’s creative side.

A young woman needs an interest in the arts if she is ever going to marry well. Marrying well was important in our world, our family is old, very old, its roots run deep.

Round and round she circled the rod pushing in hard against the little girls button from time to time which always caused the little spic to tense up completely as she screamed, all of her muscles and tendons standing out like cables in her neck and limbs as she shrieked her lungs hoarse into the microphone placed in front of her bound form. Sometimes my gentle daughter would stab the blunt thin rod into the little wetbacks tender inner pussy and grind it in just to experiment with the varying sounds and pitched noises the girl would make. I focused on the small wrinkled star of the screaming girls asshole and imagined the fun I would have forcing it open and tearing her up with one of my cruelest strap on dildo. The little spic had proven to have a resilient tight little bottom that caused her no end of suffering when her little shit chute was abused and violated. I orgasmed again just imagining.

I would have enjoyed playing with little Lucy some myself but Victoria had to return to school and we had a solid rule, unbreakable. You never played with the toys when alone at the house. It was too easy for something to go wrong. Victoria replaced the top of the bench, leather and wood covering that snapped into place, the frame was once again a simple sitting bench that took its place in the hall.

“Will you be home for dinner?” I asked my darling daughter.

“I should be, I need to stop over at the bible group and drop off the flyers you made for everyone to hand out, but after that it’s just a little shopping with Belinda and then I am done.”

“”O Good,” I replied, “I wanted to go over the choices the decoration committee has chosen for the Prom, I don’t like some of artwork, far too racy in my opinion.”

“I am sure Mrs. Elmore would be more than happy to make any changes you thought were appropriate.” Victorian replied.

“I am sure she would, but I still want your opinion, I don’t want to be too much of a fuddy-duddy.” I said. I meant it too. There must be a balance between propriety and allowing the younger generation their wild oats.

Mrs. James and Mr. Thomas came to call and we sat in the main parlor planning the details for the abstinence only campaign booth that we were sponsoring at the state fair in Salem. We enjoyed some light finger foods, prepared and served by a local catering service that I use on occasion and spent about an hour going over the arraignments. The world below us was silent and unknown to my esteemed guests, but always in my thoughts.

I woke from a short afternoon nap at a little after 3 as Sterling came home. There is a chime whenever the front gate is approached followed by a chime of a differing tone when it is opened. In our household it is always important to have warning with being visited. A quick glance at the security monitor, accessed easily from one of the small electronic pads placed in each of the rooms of the house confirmed that the car service we used for Sterling to get to and from school every day was dropping him off at the front door.

“Hi Mom, you awake?” Sterling called out as he entered the house.

“I’m up, just need to freshen up and I’ll be right out” I called out as I headed to the bathroom off the parlor to fix my hair and makeup. One should always look ones best if possible. If one thinks enough of strangers to make the effort why wouldn’t family be more important, there is no one more important to me than my family.

By the time I was finished with my hair and makeup Sterling had already brought Nadia out of the basement and was settling into the game room for some entertainment. Now, when I say the game room I am sure you imagine a dark dungeon with racks and bondage frames, but the game room is of course nothing of the sort. The long rectangular room sports period Victorian molding and wallpaper as well as 3 modern flat screen televisions and video game consuls. A long low maple table surrounded by flush red Victorian gentleman’s chairs is available for board games or other diversions and several racks of sporting equipment are also present in the room. It is a favorite place for sons and often my husband’s friends to socialize. It was the racks of sporting equipment that had attracted Sterling’s interest this day.

You might assume that playing with the toys from below was always the first thing Sterling did when coming home, but you would be quite mistaken. Sterling is a mannered boy who knows how to be a gentleman. To ignore his family and go right to play shows a lack of patience and control and as such would not be acceptable as a common habit. That being said, there was no rule against him using the toys from below as soon as he got home, still, it was unusual so I thought I should check up on him. Of course I would have checked up anyway, I not only enjoy watching my son as he learns to be a man, but he seems to enjoy my presence as well. Aside from that it is not a good idea to be alone with one of the toys from below too much, it is far too easy for something to go wrong.

Nadia was a Ukrainian bitch, some blond piece of trash they picked up on the streets of some city slum I am sure. Nadia is actually her name, she speaks enough English for us to have learned that, she may have told us her last name as well, but who can pay attention to such things, especially as they re usually unpronounceable. We had Nadia about three months at that point, which meant we were pretty close to trading her back to our friends “In the Business” and getting another toy. Our families, both my Husbands and my own had been doing business with this particular group for a long time, a very long time indeed. When the slave trade of early America was at its height and slaves were being brought by the boatload from Africa, those wishing exceptional stock would travel to north Africa to do business with this same group, and even then, it was a very old and established group.

We keep three at a time, no more and rarely less in the world below. Most we keep about a year, some longer, some shorter depending on use and preference. Because we were trading Nadia in soon, we felt comfortable inflicting extreme abuse on her. After all, we would have no further use of her. Of course every slave has a value and the company we use, our “friends in the business” generally will buy back all but the most extremely damaged girl, We never killed our toys, that was considered bad form and also a complete loss of deposit but we did shatter them. That was only a partial deposit loss.

Nadia was a favorite of Sterling because of her huge tits a boy that age is typically obsessed with breasts and my young man is no different.. A hundred percent real too, we never buy goods with fake tits, my husband would not hear of it. The big floppy bags were actually pretty firm still, despite all the abuse they had taken and were hugely sensitive. If we allowed her to wear a bra I would estimate she would wear a 34ddd. Her tiny frame made her udders stand out even more. We made sure to limit her food to thin her out for this purpose as well. They in fact were far more sensitive than when we have first acquired her thanks to Sterling’s experiments with them. You might think a creature like Nadia would become hardened to the abuse, would toughen up. While that might happen given enough time, in general it’s simply a myth. Sterling has become fascinated with hurting Nadia’s tits in unconventional ways.

While he did not play with Nadia yesterday at all the bruises and swelling from the days and weeks before was still evident all over her mammaries. He and my husband both had experimented by injecting hot saline into her tits before beating them with straps, pushing bee venom into her big pink nipples, binding her bags with cords and scalding them with hot milk, which Sterling thought was hilarious for some reason as well as dozens of other fun games that they played while the sobbing little tramp tried to leap out of her skin from the pain. I admit Nadia was not one of my favorite toys, though I do confess to really enjoy using her for a toilet. Clamping my pussy over her mouth while forced open with a dental gag and pouring my nectar down her throat while she gagged and chocked always gave me a thrill.

I could tell right away Sterling was in a foul mood, the poor dear. “What’s wrong darling?” I asked.

“My jacket, my suede brown and blue was stolen today! STOLEN! Right at school! Likely by some little piece of gutter trash just like this!” He snarled. Punching Nadia in the stomach and doubling her up as he dragged her towards the weight machine on the east wall.

“Now I seriously doubt that anyone like that would be allowed anywhere near your school Sterling, but I understand your frustration, would you like anything special to punish the little bitch with?”

“Do you have anything in mind” he asked, curious despite his anger.

“Actually I do.” I said. “I’ll be back in a bit” and went to my bedroom to retrieve an item I had recently acquired. Like any good traditional home the Masters suite was separate yet connected to the suite for the lady of the house. My husband and I kept separate bedrooms not only for tradition but because there are often times when we are enjoying the entertainment of toys separately. That being said, the reality is we rarely sleep apart.

When I returned Sterling had secured the big titted cow to the wide frame of the massive exercise machine standing up with her arms stretched above her. The machine itself really could be used for exercise and quite well. It was custom designed by a company out of Salem to my husband’s exact specifications and in fact often Sterling as well as my husband and I used it to keep fit, Victoria preferred the machines at the gym. A mass of alloy tubing, pulleys, belts and 6 separate weight stacks and 3 workout stations, the machine could be configured in a stunning variety of ways, with benches and crossbars, leg lifts and thigh presses. A dizzying array of attachments and add-ons was stored on a huge closet next to the machine along with free weights, jump ropes and exercise mats. Another array of gear was stored in the same closet behind a false side wall that opened only with a code entered into one of the ever present data pads on the wall.

Martin, my husband and the love of my life got home just as I was returning to the game room. He smiles that apologetic smile and motioned with his left hand to the laptop case he was carrying in his right and disappeared into his study. While he could monitor any room in the house through the video pad in his office I suspected he would be so involved in work as to miss all the fun. It is gratifying to have a husband that takes his work and responsibility so seriously.

When I returned Sterling had opened the side compartment of the closet and was busy setting up frame work of tubes in front of the little piece of shit that we were going to punish, together, like mother and sin. I was so proud. Sadism often runs in families, but it’s not assured. If Sterling did not share the gift there would have been only one course we could have taken. I am glad it never came to that.

I set the large dark jar of sloshing water down on the floor.

“What that?”

“Something for later, keep your mind on what you’re doing”

The frame came up just to her chest. It was easy to adjust for as the tubes slid in and out of each other and tightened with a twist. We forced her giant milk cans between two thin tubes and then pressed the tubes together, locking them and her tits in place. It was not an easy task as even secured she kept trying to twist and pull away, but together we were able to get her secured right at the base of her melons. Her already huge tits bulged out, turning maroon, her nipples huge and dark as the trapped blood engorged and sensitized her mounds even further.

The stupid girl was already moaning and shaking, her blond hair stringy and stuck to her with sweat. The girl was of course clean, we make sure our toys are always cleaned and prepared for use. A dirty toy is an unhealthy toy and we won’t have that. Sterling selected 10lbs on one weight stack and lifted it up using a pulley and then locked it in place with a pin. He carefully threaded the cable through a hole on the base of the frame in front of her and locked it down with the twist of a tube. We setup another frame of the same type in front of the first, connected at the bottom by tubes. We connected a second weight stack just as the first. This compressed her tits just behind the nipples.

Sterling brought out a large needle steel jacketed dental syringe with a viciously thick 10 gauge needle. The little tramp started shaking her head which was unrestrained back and forth wildly and babbling in Ukrainian or whatever the hell she spoke loudly.

“Should I gag her” I asked.

“Is dads office door closed?”

“It is” I replied

“Then this won’t disturb him and I don’t mind the noise.” “Do you need some earplugs Mom”? he asked

“No, If it gets too loud I will go grab some, but I think it will be fine”

With that Sterling fitted in a large glass cartridge filled with a light cloudy amber liquid.

“What mix is that?”

“Just saline to make her tits grow and firm for awhile mixed with some stimulants to keep her awake” He replied.

“No bee venom?”

“I ran out” he said.

My son took the needle and pushed it right through her nipple into her tit meat. Immediately a bead of blood appeared from the thick needle and the little cunt stated thrashing about even more, though of course bound as she was that was not much. I grabbed her face firmly in my hand and spoke to her, she could actually understand a good amount of English though she did not speak it well, which I find strange, but they tell me that’s common.

Smaller rivulets of blood seeped from her nipples as he pushed needle after needle through them.

“My beloved son is very upset that some little piece of trash like you stole his jacket, so now you’re going to suffer, a lot, more then you can even begin to imagine, so enjoy this part, if you had any idea what was coming you would beg for this instead.” I hissed at her through clenched teeth. Sterling looked at my questioningly but did not ask.

After 6 Shots in each tit you could see the swelling, trapped between the bars the tight skin was purple. My darling son went to the machine and pulled the pins out holding the weight stacks up, the weights dropped about a foot and ten caught as the cables went taut, the pulley system inside each of the specially designed tube frames drawing the two thin bard together with the weight compressing and pushing in on her tits even more, the screams and drooling were wonderful.

For the next hour my son got out all his frustrations of that stupid cows giant bleeding bruised and battered teats. He used belts and thing canes at first on her trapped swollen tits and then he took away the frames holding her tits so he could beat them back and forth on her chest with a paddle until they were purple and black. How suffering was beautiful, I was so proud of my darling son. His cock, thick like his father’s literally dripped with precum onto the floor as he thrashed the blond little bitch’s giant jugs with the paddle.

You may wonder if I played with my sons cock or took it in my mouth. Those wondering such things are sorely deluded about the dynamic of our family. I reveled and cheered my son’s healthy sexuality, I was not ashamed or embarrassed by it, but I also would never touch my son in that way. We are civilized people.

And then I showed him my gift. He was so happy! “A two foot piece of dark rubbery piece of tentacle from a Portuguese Man O' War” I told him.

“How on earth did you get that and what does is do?!” he asked, excited now.

“Well, I acquired it from Florida, sent from a friend of your fathers who works in marine biology, I told him you needed it for a science fair experiment in chemistry, he wanted specifics of course but I told him I was just a housewife and had no idea about all that biology stuff”. I said smiling “He said to be extremely careful as the tentacles can sting just as severely as the intact creature for weeks after its death, it’s even been known to kill, though that is rare, usually it’s the extreme pain that causes the victim to panic and drown. “

How intense a pain?” he asked.

“They say its much like getting hit with lightning, it can last days, even weeks”

“Weeks!!??” he exclaimed.

“Weeks” I confirmed.

“How old is this one?”

“About 4 days, shipped next day air, arrived yesterday”

“O my God! I have to try it, where should we use it?? How long can we use it on her?”

“Well, it contains a lot of venom, just a touch should be enough, the longer it touches her skin the more spines will inject their toxins, now Sterling, remember, too much can kill.”

“Where should I use it” he asked. “Her tits?”

I looked at her battered udders. “As much as she deserves more on her tits, its best to keep the poison as far away from the heart and lungs as we can” I replied.

“So the bottom of her feet?” he asked.

“You could do that if you want, but I bet her cunt will be safe enough”. I said to the excited boy.

For just over 30 seconds we rubbed the tentacle over her pussy and asshole, using our fingers, sheathed in thick garden gloves to spread open her twat and force the stinging needles into her inner cunt walls. I got my earplugs, so did Sterling.

Of course the first few hours were the worst for the blond piece of trash and we made sure those hours counted.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” The big titted blond screamed and screeched at the top of her lungs, stopping only to draw in breath and start again.

Her abused cunt swelled and closed up tight like a fist and her tiny little asshole became nearly impossible to open, but of course we did.

Sterling came twice in her twitching pain-filled little slit. Of course he did not last long with her pussy so tight and convulsing like it was, her screams and thrashing wildly on the floor also helped.

I of course had no problem with time as I forced a strap-on deep into her swollen shitter and reamed her into insanity.

Victorian stopped in, smiled and then went to go do her homework.

Three hours later when we put her away downstairs her voice was gone but she was still screaming, the next day I had them collect her, she was still screaming then though of course she no longer made any real noise, just a strangled hoarse croak and she drooled and rolled her eyes. That evening as I was tidying up I noticed on a chair in the kitchen Sterling’s jacket, he hadn’t gotten it stolen after all, he just left it at home, I am so glad he did not lose his jacket; I just hate it when bad things befall people.

Martin and I retired early for the evening after a pleasant family dinner of roast Cornish game hen, polenta and spiced stuffing. Victoria went out with a few close friends to see a movie, something sappy and endearing would be my guess and Sterling played video games with two of his friends in the same room where hours before he had tortured and raped the poor Ukrainian girl into near permanent madness.

The world below went on without us as though I did not exist at all. The current servant, whom we called keeper, fed and cleaned the toys, tended to their bodies with medicines and ointments and dutifully cleaned and cared for the furnishings below. You may have imagined the world below as a dank dungeon with torture racks and small cells with rats and rusty manacles, such is not the case. The world below is furnished quite nicely, sturdy wood furniture, comfortable warm individual cells with ample light and even television screens, warm showers and decent, even good food were freely available. If you destroyed all stimulation and spirit of the toys in the world below they become listless and not entertaining.

It was late in the evening, after Victoria had returned home and went to bed and Sterling’s friends had left that we had Lucy brought up to our bedroom for the cruel sodomy I have promised myself earlier I would visit on the little spic. As I mentioned earlier my husband and I each maintain a separate bedroom. These rooms are connected both by a large shared master bath as well as by a comfortable sitting room. Only the closest and more trusted of friends was ever invited into the sitting room, one simply does not invite casual guests into ones private chambers as an adult. Even our children rarely are granted permission to enter either the sitting room or the master suites beyond. The exceptions of course were the toys.

The sitting room remains one of our favorite places to entertain ourselves. When our children were smaller it was the primary place we brought our toys. Our children have always been aware and informed about the world below and were taught from a very young age about the proper use and caring of the toys, but until they reached the age of 14 they were never allowed to use the toys or observe the toys being used, that was the rule.

The decor of the sitting room is one that changes fairly often as Martin has left it to my discretion to decorate or redecorate it as the whim strikes me. While we generally abhor the BDSM leather community that dabbles and plays with sadism in a mockery of our gift, they are useful for several things. One is order items custom made that function is secure equipment to secure and bind our toys to that can easily be made to look like regular or slightly eclectic home furnishings. One of the more eclectic pieces of furnishings that never changed is a period English phone booth from the 1920’s that fits into a small alcove, the phone itself even works. In fact, if you dial a certain number on the phone or input that number into one of the data pads on the wall then very much like in the old spy television shows of the 60’s, it becomes an elevator. It is in fact one of three elevators in the house, all lead to the world below.

When the keeper brings one of the toys to the elevator, securing her hands with tight leather restraints or cruel sharp steel cuffs to the steel bar on the platform they never know what sort of fun we will be having. Perhaps they will spend the evening sucking my husband’s cum out of my pussy after he fucks me several times or maybe I’ll have them tongue out his asshole while he takes me from behind. Then again maybe they in for a night of cruel rapes and terrible abuses, perhaps we wish to use their sensitive little nipples as ashtrays or burn a brand slowly on their inner thighs with a wood burning tool as I piss down their screaming open throats, they simply never knew. For some reason this caused a level of anxiety in the girls.

Tonight little Lucy’s pretty little spic mouth would be wrapped around my husband’s thick cock and she gagged and choked begging and pleading in her ridicules Spanish babble for air in between sessions of my loving husband forcing his rather thick cock down her pretty little throat. I can say that my husband and son were both blessed with fairly large members with which to enjoy our toys, neither was freakishly large or exactly hung like a horse, but both were well above the norm, of that you can be assured.

On this evening Lucy was laying on her back on a small low bench, her head hung over the end and forced back for my husband’s cock while I held her legs, bound together with cord at the ankles straight up making her into an “L” shape and forcing a thick ridged silicone thick strap on dildo into her little sore poop chute.

“MMMMMMMMFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” She screamed as my husband’s cock popped out of her throat and she finally got to breath for a few moments, gulping in air and wailing as I tore into her rectum again, bruising and stretching her delicate little anal sheath with deep angled strokes that punched and slid cruelly against the walls of her little shitter causing spasm after spasm to add to the intense pain and over filled pressure of her ass reaming. Both me and my husband, well the whole family really loves taking pretty little Lucy up her ass so she never really gets a chance to recover, For the 3 months we have had her so far her little bottom has been used almost every day. While you might expect that she would be used to the vicious ass fucking by this point that’s simply not the case. Her little swollen round asshole and delicate little shit chute are bruised and inflamed more and more each day so that every ass fucking she receives is worse than the one before. This is the secret of repeated rapes and abuses, if it’s done correctly, with just enough time between to not become completely numb, but never enough to recover fully, it builds on itself.

We went on like this for quite awhile until martin finally came around and shoved his cock into her dry little pussy to pump his cum into her instead of shooting it down her throat where she couldn’t taste it. Of course she couldn’t taste it in her pussy either so I scooped wad after wad of my husband’s thick cum out with my fingers and forced it into her sobbing mouth, smearing her lips and face. Before we retired to my husband’s room to sleep I keyed in the code to alert the world below that the spic was returning and secured her in the elevator. It was the end of another beautiful day.

Chapter 2

(Authors note: The racism is this and other chapters is in no way reflective of my views, or views I consider acceptable, it is fiction and fantasy)

The wonderful thing about living outside the city is the acreage you can obtain for such a reasonable cost, not that cost ever presented much of an impediment to us. The 1200 acre ranch was just a twenty minute drive from our home and had all the amenities we were used to in the small cottage we kept on the property, not that we ever used it, when we visited the ranch it was never to use the cottage. Lest you think us wasteful people who would keep such a large piece of land purely for perversion you should know the ranch is a working one. Llamas and horses are raised there as well as some sheep. Today though it was just the family, the workers and caretakers of the ranch had been given notice and were all off the property.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGG” screamed the big titted black girl.

Her breasts like the rest of her were black as coal and yet the thick welts were easily visible even from a distance. The screaming slave was tall and thin with heavy udders and a thick round ass like most nigger girls have. Her nappy hair was cropped short and her unshaved full bush looked like wire. Sterling laid another cracking lash across her bouncing tits while at almost the same time my whip found her back. Being an African cunt, it was doubtful that the four of us, dressed in our finest Klu Klux Klan outfits, surrounding her at four points with long snake whips searing into her tits and thighs, her les and back had much of a cultural impact, but it certainly was a cultural experience for us. The thick white hood made it so I hear my own breathing even over the screams from the nigger girl. My vision framed by the fabric as I looked out of the eyeholes the way the robes moved and responded as I cocked my arm back, letting the whip trail on the ground and then bringing it up off the dirt for a sidearm crack of the lash on the bitched stomach as she howled and spun, her arms tied together at the wrists and the rope tossed up over a heavy branch on the cedar tree.

African slaves in the modern age are a dime a dozen so to speak, easy to obtain and plentiful in supply we rarely kept one for long.

“NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAA” She let loose with a piercing scream and pissed on the grass as Martin’s whip cut into her now bleeding nipples at the same time Victoria lashed her on the back of her thighs with her own

We played the KKK whipping game for about another hour then cut her down and had dinner.

After that we all dressed up like police and tortured her with taser guns. Firing the darts into her tits and thighs and then pushing the trigger to flood her with current while she shook and foamed at the mouth. The best part was when martin tied her legs apart, staking them to some fence posts so we could aim right for her black cunt and fire away. After about 40 minutes of electrocuting her cunt and tits Sterling pulled her thick pussy lips apart so we could jab the darts into her tender inner cunt and cook her there for awhile. The party ended after we pierced her clit and pussy lips with all the darts and held the triggers down until she passed out and was revived, then we did it again and again until she would simply not come to anymore. Then we left her tied to the fence and called for our friends in the business to come pick her up. All and all, a nice family outing

Chapter 3

My cousin Ginny and her two sons, Michael and Scott came for a visit during the first week of March and stayed for 10 days. Although we had little doubt that each of them in some fashion shared our nature the world below remained hidden and quite for their stay. The household where Ginny was raised was one where such things were not practiced openly or spoken of. To our knowledge neither Ginny nor her sons have any idea of our world or its rules.

During this time a special order was made and was scheduled to arrive a short time after my cousin and her boys departed. Typically girls can be ordered one of two ways, the buyer may simply specify their general requirements and when a new girl is requested one is brought that fits the buyer’s tastes; this is how we mostly acquire our toys. Our friends in the business know our tastes very well. They know all of their clients tastes very well. The second common method is to request a catalog, in the old days this would have been an actual paper catalog, now it is all done through email. We browse the photos and information provide and make our selections, this method was always how it was done in my parents household growing up, but almost never in Martin’s.

Another method though a more expensive one is to request something more specific. There are types of girl’s and specific request the service simply will not do. For example the wealthy and famous are off limits as we politically connected and high profile types. Specific people are always off limits, you can request a type of girl, a set of criteria, but never a specific person. The type we requested was a pretty white southern trailer trash girl in her mid 20’s. The deeper south and more trashy the better. We received photos, information and detailed reports on 5 different girls, we made our selection.

The delivery arrived very early Friday morning which was just perfect. The children and I were like young tikes at Christmas waiting for the gift to be unwrapped, Martin rarely let’s his excitement about such things show, he was a pillar of patience and professional detachment. The young man from the service opened the doors to the ambulance. Our deliveries were always transported in an ambulance. If the plates and registration of the ambulance were ever checked the private hospital that it was registered to would appear perfectly legitimate in every way up until the address was physically visited, then only a small pond on an isolated parcel would be discovered. If pulled over for any reason a perfectly normal looking paramedic and driver could honestly explain to the offices that the patient in back was sedated and stabilized for transport and unable to answer any questions. In the years this method has been employed I seriously doubt matters had ever progressed that far.

Happily our little special order had been woken up and stripped down prior to arrival and allowed to wake fully up so we could approve of her before the next leg of her journey.

She was perfect! Tall and curvy with a flat stomach, big floppy tits with huge puffy pink nipples, a shaved little snatch and a really bad bleach blond dye job and attempt at a loose perm, really crappy little rose tattoos around her tits and bellybutton she was wide eyed with dark eyeliner running down her face. Mandy Sue Keller, isn’t it just a perfect name!

“Pleaseee Let me go! I wone tell no un nothin,” she kept babbling and begging in the most perfect white trash hillbilly accent I could have imagined, she was perfect! The man from the company, tall and powerfully built with a slight Irish accent took her by the padded leather collar around her neck, his partner was already behind her pushing her out of the ambulance and holding her cuffed wrists to guide her down the ramp.

We circled around her like coyotes circling a bunny prodding and grabbing, slapping and pointing out the things we liked such as the cheap heart shaped belly button rings and the tiny little trashy butterfly tattoo on her ankle. We shrieked like schoolgirls when we turned her around and saw the rebel flag tattoo on the small of her back just above her full heavy big sexy ass.

We shoved her face first on to the grass so we could pull apart her heavy full ass cheeks and test the tightness of her dark brown crinkled asshole with our fingers and smiled at each other in glee as we pulled her plump thick cunt lips apart and yanked her clit hoof back to expose her thick button exclaiming about how huge it was and how much pain it could be made to take. All the time she kept blubbering and shrieking, pleading and promising to do whatever we wanted if we just stopped hurting her, she really had no idea what hurting was, not yet. Finally we signaled for the boys to load her back in the ambulance and get her ready for the rest of the ride and we went back inside to finish packing and getting ready.

Sterling was beside himself with disappointment that he would not be attending the weekend fun. My brilliant son was destined instead to spend the weekend working on an assignment for his advanced English class and studying.

The world below would remain off limits as he would be alone. The rules had to be followed at all times. Still, it was no secret that Tara, our third slave and resident gypsy would be in for a session with Sterling that would leave its mark on the dark haired little cunt.

Even Martin was starting to get into the rakish spirit of the weekend as we made the 4 hour drive to Seattle. Mid March tends to be a rainy time in the Pacific Northwest and today was no exception. Still living in Oregon is simply impossible if one cannot tolerate the weather so the gloomy day did little to deter our spirits as we pulled into the lot in front of the large three story adult café, dance club and art studio that proclaimed boldly on the sign gracing the entry that tonight was the grand opening of the adult café, our café! Under the large banner was a sign proclaiming the clubs opening would be celebrated by a costume affair, only those with costumes would be admitted, the theme was a party in hell. The only other vehicles in the lot currently were the ambulance and a small sports car. The ambulances cargo would have been unloaded on the side and our new toy safely secured per our instructions inside.

As soon as we got out of the car the ambulance started up and exited the lot, turning left and heading out of town, it would not be back for pickup until late Sunday night. However the sports car remained.

The staff and manager would not arrive for another hour or so though if someone arrived early there would be no problem. The building itself was a large converted refrigeration and shipping facility, the kind used to flash freeze meat and fish before shipping them out to grocers. Most of the old pipes and valves were left and the ceiling was a maze of copper and steel piping, lights and carefully places speakers. The majority of the vast ground floor had been cleared of machinery and walls and made into one large chamber.

A huge circular cylinder of dark glass panes of glass dominated the center of the room, rising from floor to ceiling, the booths, tables sweeping bar and small stage were all facing inward toward the huge cylinder. Each pane of thick dark glass was a video screen that soon would be pulsing with images as the massive sound system piped in pounding music and state of the art holographic projectors above cast ghostly figures and fantasy characters throughout the club to mix with our guests and delight the patrons.

We excitedly made our way to the second floor past the VIP room to and past where the mass of computers. High tech wizardry, projectors and fiber optic audio-video equipment was housed that was the true heart of the club. The second floor was also home to the manager’s office and the office of the owner. Locking the door to the office behind us we really got into the spirit of the night, joking and laughing, giggling and teasing each other, It was a time of family bonding, of lightness and mirth and I am glad to have had so many fond memories in my life and look forward to having many more.

The third floor of the building contained our private apartments, bedrooms, kitchen, a small living room and private office but we did not even visit that floor yet, Instead we stayed in the office reserved for the owners of the establishment, that being us, and spend good quality family time talking and laughing.

None of my children are shy about their bodies and certainly Martin and I have no such modesty. Still it is not typical that we actually touch our daughter’s naked skin, nor she ours. This night however such could scarcely be helped as the intricate body painting and gluing on of costuming needed to be done bit by one’s own hand, so we all stripped down and laughingly painted and glued, combed and dressed each other to get ready.

About 10 minutes before the club opened to the public Martin descended the spiral staircase that led from the VIP room to the interior of the huge cylinder to instruct the lone attendant that he may depart.

30 minutes after the club opened its doors the place was packed. From the VIP lounge we could look right through the floor to the growing crowd. Those looking up would see only a dark ceiling hidden behind the pipes and swirling lights. The usual bartender and staff that would serve the VIP lounge were absent tonight as we had claimed the entire section as our own and declared the whole second and third level off limits for our stay.

Laughing and cackling we descended the staircase into hell, at least it looked like hell. The inside of the huge round room that served as the elite VIP lounge had its own separate sound system and video feed to its screens. In the center of the room our trailer trash party girl awaited, hands bound over her head to a wooden bondage frame, her eyes were huge, rolling with terror as we came down the stairs, dressed as demonic horrors myself and my daughter sported huge obscene strap on dildos of crimson red that matched our painted bodies. My husband’s own quite thick cock was also painted and stood out stiffly from his body as we clawed our way dramatically through the air towards the terrified little piece of trash.

You see, we happen to know quite a bit about this particular piece of trailer fuck meat. Mandy had the unfortunate luck to be arrested not once but six times for using methamphetamines. As part of the deal that kept her out of jail she submitted to over 2 years of weekly sessions with a court appointed therapist who concluded the little piece of illiterate trash was a victim in all things and likely unable to lead any sort of a productive life. This we know because the therapist’s session notes and records are all stored on a county computer in a very unsecured system in Mississippi that along with hundreds of other state and federal aging computer systems our friends in the business have free reign of.

During her months and months of therapy little Mandy tearfully recounted how boy after boy had dragged her into bushes and bedrooms, deserted parks and parking garages to forced their hands up her shirt or down her pants or forcing their tongues in her mouth when she was 14 and then by the time she was 15 making her suck their cocks and finally pushing themselves up her little cunt to spurt their seed into poor Mandy, forcing her to have nearly a half dozen abortions before she was 22. Little Mandy is a born victim, it reeks off her, it permeates her soul, that’s why we choose her, Oh, and one more thing, Mandy has been plagued with nightmares about being raped by demons for years, we tried so hard to get it right for her, I hope she someday appreciates the depth of effort.

Mandy had been off of methamphetamines for nearly a year by his point but I am sure she could appreciated the quality of the drug in the cocktail flowing through her veins. The powerful stimulant was mixed with hypnotic benzodiazepines, anti-biotics and ecstasy to give her a nightmarish high. Red tinged BDSM films of girls being whipped and abused mixed with footage of KKK rallies and swirling images of screaming faces flashed across the screens surrounding and enveloping us. While the people outside the screens could not see in, the screens could be set to various modes to allow us to see fully or partially into the club. Currently as the videos played the people in the club in demonic costuming could be seen as shadowy ghosts floating around behind the images. It was even sober and not bound, a terrifying sensation, for her it was completely overwhelming.

I reached up and undid clip on the cuffs securing her and pushed her over to Martin who quickly spun her around to face us securing her arms behind her with the cuffs clips together and pulling her hair backward to force her face and head up.

SLLLAAPP, Victoria pulled back her arm to slap the little piece of trash across her bouncing tits. SLLLAAPP, CRACKKK, back and forth on her chest her jiggling utters swayed wildly and quickly started reddening. Martin pushed her into Victoria’s arms and I took my turn smacking and clawing at her now bruising tits for awhile until Victoria threw her at me and her and Martin each batted the screaming little bitch’s floppy bags back and forth. We played like this for quite awhile, laughing and cackling as she pled and cried pathetically and her tits got more and more bruised.

Of course, it was all just a warm-up. Victoria sashayed over to a log oak case that had been left for us, her hips swaying in an over dramatic strut. “OOOOOhhh” She cooed when she opened the case. “Pretty!” Inside was what many people might assume was a cattle prod at first glance. Its long rectangular base holding the motor and batteries attached to a long thin shaft that ended in a white long tube much like a very large cigar with the end clipped and flat instead of pronged.

While Martin held Mandy’s arms behind her back and I pulled her hair back forcing her head up, our beautiful Victoria pressed the end of the prod like rod into Mandy’s left breast just under the nipple and pressing a button on the handle, a red light blinked on but otherwise nothing happened. Mind you, while Victoria had ordered and read much about this toy, she had never held one before, but the only thing you could see in her demonically painted face was pure confidence, anything else would have been simply lacking.

“Every time you fail to make us happy, this is what you get, try very hard to make us happy, do you understand?” Victoria growled out.

“Ye..yess, I understand..” Mandy actually managed to blubber out.

“Good, very good” Victoria said, looking her intensely right in the eyes. A tiny click would have been heard if the music was not so loud as the light switched to green indicating it was ready. Almost the instant it turned green Victoria pressed the button in again.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” Mandy arched and twisted, screaming and screaming, After about 3 seconds, which is a long time when someone is screaming and flailing that much, Victoria took the rod away. Where it touched, just below the nipple, an angry red burn in the shape of a circle with a large S shape in the center of it with 8 small deeper red dots ringing inside the circle appeared. Unlike a normal brand, which gives a deep 3rd degree burn that destroys the nerves and actually hurts much less, this brand as designed to deliver a very strong second degree burn. In addition, 8 electrical points punched just below the skin as the searing metal of the brand shot forth in the tube when the button was pressed giving and electrical burn just under the skin as well as shocking the poor girl. It was simply an amazingly painful burn. Unlike a traditional brand the mark would fade and in time, several weeks or even months perhaps and go away.

“Now, I hope you really do understand Many, I really hope so” Victoria hissed as she grabbed the poor girls tits, squeezing and twisting the burn as Mandy shrieked out “Yes! OWWWWWWWWWW! Yes! I Understand, OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!”

“Now, on your knees and suck that cock” she commanded, pointing at Martin’s swinging dick. The stupid blond got right down and started sucking my husbands cock like a pro, almost greedily thinking if she behaved she would escape the abuse. Of course we knew this about her, after reading her files her behavior was exactly what we thought it would be. Stepping behind her I lined the baseball bat thick dildo up with her tiny asshole. Using a little spitto coat the shaft so it would slide in a little easier I grabbed her hips and began to push. The spit did little to ease the tearing twisting path of the dildo and nothing to ease her agony. She practically spit Martin’s cock out of her mouth as she screamed and pleaded for me to take the giant fake cock out of her guts.

It took nearly 10 minutes of pushing and twisting to bury the fat strap on up her torn little shitter.

“You really disappoint me” Victoria said to the little piece of crying trash after I was all the way inside her. “I told you to suck that cock”. She said softly as she pressed the prod/brand against the side of the bitches hanging left tit and lit up her world again, leaving a bright reddish purple brand behind.

Mandy howled and shook and would have flopped to the floor except for the thick dildo splitting her torn ass apart and holding her up.

“Say thank you to me for holding you up Mandy” I told her. Of course Mandy ignored me, crying and shaking. When she calmed down a little , just a little, Victoria said “You really have to learn to obey Mandy, you promised, remember?” and she pressed the prod into the top of her already bruised and branded heavy left tit again an held her finger right on the button. “Now, thank her for holding you up” she commanded. “T-t-h-hank you for hol-in me up” she managed to sputter out.

“Good girl” Victoria said. “Next time, remember to do it right away.”

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.” Mandy screamed as Victoria held down the button branding her tit again.

For the next 15 minutes she gagged and screamed on Martin’s cock as he forced it down her throat while I slowly reamed open her bleeding little rectum with the impossibly large strap on and Victoria hovered over her with the brand.

After martin unloaded his sperm down her stupid throat we pushed her down unto a high table and made her spread her legs far apart, holding her ankles in her hands.

“Now, a stupid little cunt like you needs to have her twat punished for giving a perfect stranger a blow job and letting a woman fuck you up the ass with a strap on, don’t you agree?” Victoria asked sweetly.

“Yesss” the little bitch sobbed, she was learning.

“Good, now keep your legs open wide while your little cunt is strapped” Victoria said.

“SSSSLLLLAPPP!!!” The thick strap martin was holding whistled down to crack on her pussy mound. Of course the minute the belt hit she let go of her ankles to cup her pussy and roll around on the table.

She knew what was going to happen, there was no way she could not, but she just trembled and looked up with wide doe eyes as my beautiful Victoria gently parted the girls legs with one hand and placed the prod/brand on the inside of the little tramps thigh. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” She howled and pounded her fists into thetable again as her thigh was seared and electrified.

Her cunt mound was purple and bruised by the time Martin had given her over 200 strokes right on her twat with the strap and her thighs decorated with 5 brands, 3 on the left and two on the right.

Aster that martin raped her bruised and battered little dry cunt while I forced her to eat my pussy and after martin came to drink down my piss. Of course the little stupid bitch spilled some of my golden nectar on our nice floor and was punished with another brand on her right nipple. Victoria branded her left nipple as well after she hesitated when told to tongue out my asshole and beg me to shit in her mouth. No, I had no intention of actually doing that, the smell in such a closed area would have simply been too much, but after her nipple was branded, and her tongue was buried in my asshole it was nice to hear her mumble her pleading for it. Once her nipples were branded of course we needed to put clamps on them. Heavy spring loaded clamps with dull crushing teeth that we hung from her teats and made her crawl around on the floor while the three of us used bets to lash her back and ass.

Martin adjusted the screens that surrounded us so that they were completely transparent. We could see the club around us, the people walking around, dancing, drinking and most of all, watching the images they could see on their side of the screens, giving the illusion they were watching Mandy, pointing and laughing. Of course, Mandy did not know they could not see her, Mandy did not know it was a trick.

We all climbed on her while she was on her hands and her knees, fucking her with strap-ons and martin raping her with his cock. We pulled and slapped at her tits while the wrights tore and crushed her nipples. And of course she licked both Victoria and I to several wonderful orgasms while her body was being abused. By the time we were almost finished her tits sported nearly a dozen brands on each side and her thighs about the same, her tits were purple and black from the beatings as was her cunt mound, her asshole was gaping open and torn and her red swollen cunt was a lewd parody of a women.

“I am going to give you a chance now, one that we have never given anyone, We can rape and beat you for the rest of the night and then in the morning hand you over for a life like this, every day, every night until you die” Victoria said. ”Or you can hold your legs open for one more brand and then we will all fuck you one last time and in the morning, we will set you free, I promise.” she continued.

In fact that was the truth, we decided we knew enough about Mandy and how she would react to risk what we had never risked before, letting her go free, of course, we had our reasons for this as well.

“Now, if you want to be free, hold your filthy legs wide open, so I can brand your cervix” Victoria crooned.

You could see the terror, the new terror in Mandy’s eyes as he mind digested this latest Even after all she had been through you could see the struggle, the utter terror and despair as she opened her legs, the fanatic attempt at self control as the prod slid up her loose cunt and rested on her inner core, her cervix. The dribble of piss as her bladder, which she had lost control of several times that evening forced out just a little more piss and the utter and complete animal she became when Victoria smiles and pushed that button, searing her cervix and holding the button for what seemed forever. She was quiet during her rapes, just a twitching silent doll as we each pounded her cooked cervix.

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