The Adult Story Hub

He had only just dried and dressed himself when she appeared and he couldn’t suppress the genuine shiver of fear. The girl had a definite cruel streak and Monica repeatedly harping on about the fact didn’t help.
“You took your time.” She snapped. She was standing in the doorway to the room, dressed in a top and short skirt, her muscle tone and power was obvious.
“I am sorry Mistress.” He tried to sound suitably humble and apologetic.
“Mistress! Monica has been efficient. Did you please her?” She asked sharply.
“I think so Mistress.” He replied.
“Think? Don’t you know?” Emma taunted. “Did you make her cum?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“So you know what is expected of you?” Emma demanded.
“Yes Mistress.”
“I doubt that.” Emma snorted. “Follow me.”
He had expected the bed again, but that wasn’t what Emma planned. She took him over to the padded bench.
“Lie down.” She pointed to the bench.
He hesitated, just for a moment and while he hesitated she struck him. Just the once but it was enough to send him crashing against the wall.
She didn’t even move, just started counting slowly.
“One, two, three, four, five …”
He was standing at six and lying on the couch before she had reached twelve.
“Nearly not fast enough.” Emma snapped. “I should punish you for such slovenly behaviour.”
“I am sorry Mistress.” He babbled.
“You should be.” She knelt down and secured his wrists and ankles on the benches restraints. She stood up, seeming to tower over him. “Monica gave us a very good report. She said that you already understood your position and that for a beginner you give good head. You should take that as a compliment, Monica is very hard to please, as am I.”
Emma sat on him, her legs dangling free and all her weight resting on his chest.
“Does this hurt?”
“Yes Mistress.” He admitted.
“Good, now just consider how it will feel when I am on your face.” Emma smirked, knowing by the look on his face, how much her words had scared him. “Well?” She pinched his nipples, twisting and turning them until he couldn’t prevent the whimper from escaping from between his pressed lips.
“Yes Mistress.” He moaned.
Emma laughed.
“This is so much fun!” She clapped her hands together. “I had almost forgotten what having a boy to facesit was like.” She was suddenly serious. “The last occupant of the room was a woman.”
He said nothing. There was nothing he could say and besides, Emma was holding a conversation with him. She was just trying out another type of torture.
“Doesn’t that interest you?” She taunted. “Well, you can answer.”
“No Mistress.” He replied.
“No what? No, you won’t answer or no, you don’t care.” She pinched his nipples again. He was learning that Emma had a very short fuse.
“Please.” He begged. “I meant nothing!” He continued to plead.
“You are nothing.” She snapped. This time when she twisted his nipples he screamed, the sound seemed to soak into the walls of the room. “Soundproof!” She laughed. “You could shout very loud and no one would hear you. She screamed and screamed before finally understanding what her role in life was to be.”
He couldn’t suppress the growing clamour in his head, he was terrified and this sadistic little bitch had him helpless.
“Please Mistress! Tell me what happened to her.” He implored.
“At then end?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“She works for the organisation.” Emma began mysteriously. “Which means she still gets face fucked, just not by me. I miss her; she fought me for so long. It became a real challenge to break her, and I did.” She slid right up his body, until her crotch menaced his face. “Now I have gotten very, very horny and you had better be very very good.”
“I will try not to disappoint you.” He whimpered.
“You will not disappoint me.” Emma retorted. “Now, did Monica smother you first?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“Good idea, nothing like having an ass grinding into your face, least not if it’s my ass and your face.” She clambered off him and went to the top of the bench, where his head lay. “I was the first to facesit you.” She chuckled. She climbed back onto the bench. “Take a deep breath, it’ll be your last for a long, long time.”
If Monica’s abuse of him had seemed extreme he quickly realised that Emma was the really cruel one. She was not content until he was actually being smothered, until his lungs burnt and his chest was ready to explode. He fought, oh how he fought, but the restraints did their worse. He couldn’t defend him beyond twisting and turning his torso and when that became to desperate Emma’s hard fist smacked into his windless stomach.
When she relented he was in no condition to please her, his head lolled to one side, spittle dribbling from his mouth, he coughed, gagged, felt his brain seemingly overheat. He was a wreck and still she wasn’t satisfied.
She still straddled his face, her tight, pantied bottom only inches from his crimson face.
“Look up.” She demanded.
He did so and she sat down again. He groaned as her weight spread across his face. It hurt! He hurt! Having a hundred and twenty pound woman on your face hurt. He wanted to cry out but her smothering rear stifled his cries.
It was then that Emma farted, loudly, into his face.
“Sniff that!” She laughed.
She lifted herself just enough to take the weight from his face. He was so grateful that sniffing her fart seemed a minor thing by comparison. She held that position until the last gassy vestige of the fart had been dissipated or drawn into his lungs.
He was afraid now that she was would return to her smothering. He wasn’t sure that he could take much more. But she left him, left him just long enough to strip.
Now she returned to facing him, her naked pussy was wet and eager for his tongue. He didn’t wait for her instructions. He remembered how Monica had liked him to suck, lick and kiss, gently at first and then more physically as her excitement had heightened.
Once more she straddled his face and he lifted his head, extending his tongue until he could slide it along the entrance to her clitoris. She caught of his hair and began to guide him to where she wanted his tongue and his lips.
When she came, unlike Monica, Emma’s climax was almost gentle. She pulled him deep inside her, riding his face. He was so close that he could feel her contractions against his face and then she cast him down.
Emma’s eyes were bright, her nipples hard, her skin flushed with excitement. She looked down at him.
“Very good.” She laughed softly. Almost the first human sound he’d heard from her, a few words that did not carry menace.
“Thank you Mistress.” He breathed. He wanted to smile but knew that it would only invoke her anger and he couldn’t dare risk that.
“One last thing.” She smiled and turned around to once more present her ass into his face. He thought that she was about to smother him and he moaned. The thought on being smothered under her naked body almost made him heave.
Emma pulled her ass cheeks apart so that the brown wrinkled ring of her anus stared down at him.
“Kiss my ass.” She ordered.
He caught his breath but didn’t hesitate, the last time he’d done that she beaten him. He kissed both cheeks and then her anus.
“Now use your tongue.” She demanded.
He did so, tentatively touching her bum hole, not knowing what to expect. Emma moaned softly and pushed back at him. He touched her again, harder this time. The moan was deeper and once again she pushed back at him.
She like it, more, Emma loved having her ass tongued. He had found what pleased her and desperately he tried to satisfy her. She looked so magnificent, so toned, so fit, and so dominant. She was right; he was here simply to please her.
He had never imagined that anyone could ever climax from having their ass tongued but Emma did, lowering herself onto him until he felt the drip drip of her climax on his face.
Emma followed Monica’s ritual. After dressing she released him from his restraints and ordered him to clean himself up. He fell from the bench and lay un-moving on the rubber-matted floor.
“Get up!” Emma ordered.
He tried. He was so weary, the long night, so little sleep and all that smothering. He hadn’t the strength to lift himself.
“Get up!” She repeated.
“I’m tired Mistress.” He whispered. He felt very thirsty and very hungry. When had he last eaten?
Emma regarded him for a minute.
“It’s just as well that Jackie and Caroline are getting re-acquainted.” She said disdainfully. “I’ll tell them that you’re whacked.”
He risked her anger.
“I’m hunger Mistress, and thirsty.” He waited but she said nothing. “There is no food here.”
“You get water from the tap at the sink. I’ll get you a meal.” She prodded him. “Now move, or I’ll assume you want more smothering. You look very tempting like that.”
This time he moved, not quickly, but managed to rise to his knees and stayed there until he heard the outer door close.
There was no cup in the sink so he used his hands. Just the cold water seemed to revive him and he didn’t care that the shower water was still tepid. He sat as before and just allowed the water to roll off her. He was still there when Emma appeared with a tray. She said nothing, placed the tray on the bed and started to leave.
“Thank you Mistress.” He called out.
“I told them. You have two hours, eat and sleep. They will come together.” She smirked at her unexpected joke. “Be ready for them.”
The food was nothing special, a heavy broth that was mostly vegetables, but it was warm and he was to hungry to care. The tray and utensils were all plastic; they gave him nothing he could use as a weapon.
After eating he laid on the bed, the silence was crushing but his exhaustion was overwhelming. He thought that he would never sleep, that all that had happened to him would prevent that, but he was wrong. He slept.
“Ten minutes!”
He stirred.
“Ten minutes!” The words were repeated.
He looked around. There was no else in the room.
“Ten minutes!” The words were repeated a third time.
“Please, where are you?” He called out. He sat up but was still no further to solving the mystery.
“You now have eight minutes, be ready for us!”
It dawned on him that they were warning him, telling him that they would soon be there and that he had better be ready for them. Hurriedly he dressed again, used the toilet, and then sat on the end of his bed and waiting.
“Two minutes.” The disembodied voice announced.
He still couldn’t figure where the sound was coming from, somewhere in his tiny room but he couldn’t figure out where. He was still trying to discover the speaker when he heard the door to his cell swing open.
“In here!” A girls voice demanded.
He trotted into the first room; both Jackie and Caroline were there.
“In future you will wait here.” Snapped Jackie.
“Yes Mistress.” Automatically he dropped into his subservient, dominated role.
“You have kept us waiting?” Caroline demanded.
“I was tired Mistress.” He whispered, he kept his eyes to the floor, afraid to make eye contact with them.
“So Emma said, and are you refreshed now?” Caroline asked.
“Yes Mistress.”
“Well we’ll see about that.” She retorted.
They took him into the room.
“Strip!” Jackie ordered.
He did so; his cock was flaccid but still showed the signs of his earlier erections.
Jackie rubbed his cock and it sprang to erection. She laughed.
“Not bad.”
She kept on jerking him. “Don’t come.” She ordered. “Come and I’ll send for Emma.”
He stood still and tried to keep his mind away from what her long fingers were doing to his cock. It felt so good and normally he’d have been looking forwards to his climax. Only now he knew that he couldn’t do that that somehow he had to keep his sperm inside his sacs.
“Please stop Mistress.” He whispered.
“Are you going to come?” Jackie asked.
“Yes Mistress.” He breathed. “Please stop, please.”
Only she didn’t, she drove him to the edge and then stopped, but only long enough to stretch him out across the bench, once more shackling him.
“Round two.” She laughed and started again.
Caroline came and smothered him, facing down his body; she trapped his face beneath her warm and round bottom. He cried out but once more his voice was lost beneath a girls behind.
Jackie continued to rub her fingers along his straining organ, no longer simply content to masturbate him, now she sought ways to tease and excite him, yet at the same time, keep his orgasm at bay.
“What’s it feel like?” Jackie snorted. “When all that white stuff comes out, does it hurt?”
“He’s a bit occupied.” Caroline retorted, wriggling her backside until his nose was jammed in between her buttocks. She raised her backside. “Answer her boy.”
He drew a breath before replying.
“Yes Mistress, it can hurt.”
“Enough talk.” Interrupted Caroline. She lowered herself and once more claimed his face with her pantied rear.
He lost track of time. All that happened was that Caroline’s suffocating rear would briefly release him; he would draw in a hurried breath before she resumed her seat and that Jackie teased and taunted his body, until it was slick with the perspiration of his resistance, of his determination not to come.
“I’m gonna take my pants off.” Announced Caroline as she dismounted. “Time he caught the main show.”
“Let me have a sit.” Jackie laughed. She released his cock for the time since they’d entered the room and he let out a sob of relief. It felt as if his cock had been rubbed raw.
“Be my guest.” Caroline guffawed.
Jackie moved minimally and yet immediately her backside was covering his face. He was so wore down that he hadn’t even moved his face in between the two women using him as their seat.
Jackie rubbed herself across his face. It hurt; all those hours of being smothered had had an effect on him. Only Emma had been rough, but the cumulative effect was taking its toll. He groaned inwardly and tried to switch off from the pain centres. It was just like when she’d been wanking him, keep your mind detached; try to forget where you were and what was happening to you.
“This is goooood!” He heard Jackie exclaim. “So goooood!”
It wasn’t for him; it was becoming a hell on earth. He was starting to wonder how he could keep the four of them happy. It was beginning to seem an impossible task.
Jackie moved, but only so a now bare assed Caroline could replace her. She settled across his face and he felt her oily, hot slickness spread across him. It felt as if his face was being sucked up inside her sex. He opened his mouth and his tongue darted into her, allowing her fluids to drain down his tongue and into his mouth.
He didn’t gag. He was already becoming used the taste of a woman, the salty, tangy flavour which invaded his taste buds and overwhelmed his senses until he was sure that the only smells, the only tastes in the world, were those that his captors presented.
The shock was the sudden realisation that Jackie was no longer torturing his abused cock, she was sliding slowly up and down it.
“Don’t come!” Came her disembodied voice. “Don’t you dare come.”
He had found Caroline’s clitoris, it seemed huge, huge and very hard. He used his tongue to tease it from beneath its hood and Caroline went mad. He concentrated on that, in bringing her pleasure, so much pleasure that it would drive from his mind even the terrifying prospect of his own climax.
Caroline came, whooping as she did, standing off him whilst showering him with her climax. She even fingered herself, bringing the very last drops from herself, and then she slowly fell away, landing with a soft thud on the floor.
“All yours.” He heard her sign.
Jackie did nothing. She seemed content to just slowly slid up and down his pole, her fingers playing with herself.
He tensed, fearing that now he could see and feel her that the chances of his accidental climax would increase.
“Want to come?” Jackie smirked.
“No Mistress.” He gasped. It did feel good, as if her body was now cooling the pain that her wanking had created.
“Liar!” Jackie snapped, she moved faster, the walls of her cunt seemed to contract, gripping his cock in a vice like grip.
“Nooooo!” He yelled. He bounced with her, trying to match each move, each twist or turn that she made. “Please Mistress.” He cried. “Please stop. I can’t help myself.”
“Really!” Jackie was just bouncing up and down his cock, her face was flushed, but she was laughing at him. “How about now?”
“Pllllleassssse!” He begged. He was so close to coming. He had fought the feelings, the sensations, that final build up after which he couldn’t help himself. He knew that he couldn’t fight any longer. He would come any second now.
Jackie stopped. One second his cock was wrapped in pussy, the next it was free, waving stupidly in the open, its head an angry purple, the veins pulsing.
He just kept moving, still so close to his climax that he couldn’t stop.
Jackie grinned at him and then pinched the base of his cock, pinched so hard that it began to hurt, and with the pain came the gradual realisation that he wouldn’t come, that this attractive and utterly callous young woman had denied him even that release.
Caroline appeared, her face still flushed.
“Jackie’s very good with dicks.” She laughed. “When she is finished you’ll stay hard and never come, the perfect dildo.” She ran her hand down his chest. “You should work out, get some beef on your body.” Then to Jackie. “Have you finished?”
“Yeah! I’ve had my fun. I think I’ll leave christening his face to another day.” She lent down and released him.
They left him alone after that, something he was very grateful for. He was truly exhausted, both mentally and physically. He was made to drag himself from the room, which was then closed.
He crawled to his bed and collapsed, oblivious of the mess he was, he slept.
The buzzer was loud and insistent. It had to be to penetrate his senses. Very, very slowly he came to.
“Food in ten minutes.”
The mention of food made him realise how hungry he was. He washed and dressed and was waiting by the time the countdown had reached three minutes. The need for food made his stomach growl but the fear of another day of torture and humiliation made him sick with fear.
The door opened and in walked Emma and Jackie. Emma had his tray of food whilst Jackie had a rucksack.
“Boy, you look a mess.” Laughed Emma.
He said nothing, simply waited to see what they wanted.
Jackie handed him the rucksack.
“This is for you.” She said and then turned on her heels and left.
He turned his attention to Emma.
She handed him the tray.
“I’ll be back in ten minutes, by then you will have eaten and emptied the sack.
Understand?
“Yes Mistress.”
“Good!” She turned to leave and then stopped. “Come here.” She ordered.
He took the step forward that was required.
Emma rubbed the crotch of his shorts, all the time keeping her cold grey eyes on his face.
“Jackie said how keen you were, and you are.” She smiled and then stepped back to look at her handiwork.
He stood there, tray in one hand, rucksack in another whilst his cock stuck out, instantly hard against the slightest of contact.
“Ten minutes.”
He ate first, the meal was porridge like, and once again his only eating utensil was a plastic spoon. It was warm and filled his stomach but that was all.
After the food he emptied the rucksack. There was a battery-powered shaver, a plastic beaker and an A4 sized plastic mirror. He looked at himself in the mirror and was shocked. He had felt sore, felt tender, but it was not until he saw himself in that small mirror that he realised that his face was a patchwork quilt of bruises, some purple and angry. When he touched the worse looking bruises he realised how painful they were. He also needed a shave.
He had done nothing else when Emma and Jackie returned, quite un-announced.
“Stand up.” Emma commanded and when he did so, she inspected herself his bruises, pushing against them, watching his reactions. “They’ll be gone in a couple of days.” Emma tossed a small tube onto his bed. “Rub that into your face, it’ll ease the bruising.”
She turned to Jackie.
“A couple of days?” Emma suggested.
“Make it three.” Jackie replied.
“Three it is.” Agreed Emma. She turned back towards him. “It seems that you have earned yourself a break, use it well.”
Quite what she meant only became clear as the day progressed. At first he slept, recovering from the punishment they had inflicted upon him. Then he secured the mirror to the wall, it came with sticky plastic tabs, and he shaved and applied the salve. It felt cool against the hot skin of the bruise.
He was almost relaxed; he felt rested, clean and for the first time since he’d met the mad bitches, in charge of his own life. It was only gradually that he began to fully realise his situation.
The first time was his call to his ‘evening’ meal. He waited as they expected only the door didn’t open, instead the tray was slid through a narrow slot.
The same thing happened the next morning and that evening. By then he was beginning to feel his isolation, his total isolation, dead emptiness of his cell. He shouted and his words seemed to soak into the walls. He hammered against the walls and door, but even his blows seemed to soak into the walls.
He gave up. The lights dimmed into his artificial nighttime but sleep eluded him. He exercised, working himself until he collapsed but still sleep didn’t come.
On the morning of the third day when they pushed his tray through to him, he called out.
“Mistress. Mistress.”
The slot closed. They ignored him.