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Subject: {ASSM} The Misadventures of Gwen Chapter 9
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Date: Mon, 16 Jul 2007 04:10:05 -0400
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<1st attachment, "The Misadventures of Gwen Chapter 9.txt" begin>

The Misadventures of Gwen Chapter 9

   _____________________________________
WARNING:
This story is fiction, and should be treated as such.  The following
story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of
explicit sex.  If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upsets you,
DO NOT read any further.  If it is illegal in your location, DO NOT read

it.

   This is a copyrighted work.  Copyright 2007 by Kirk.  Reposting or any
other use of it is strictly prohibited without the express, written
permission of the copyright holder, except that it may be posted as part of
a review or posted to a free-access, noncommercial archive sites.
DISCLAIMER:
All characters are fictitious.  Any resemblance to anyone either alive

or dead is purely coincidental.

   Please!  Send me your comments!  Email to "Kirk"
mobiguard-asstr@yahoo.com
________________________________________________________________________

   A week passed and I was almost fully recovered.  During the week I was
closely supervised by my chambermaids, and often teased and taunted by
them. My pussy and anus were off limits so that they might fully heal.  The
only attention they received was the healing ointments that were applied.

   The only negative effect of all of this was my constant state of
horniness.  My clit was very sensitive and constantly throbbed it was so
hard.  It had been a whole week since I was violated by the Marquis's
guests, and I longed for more of the same.

   That evening particular attention was paid to how I was dressed since
the Marquis would soon be visiting my chambers.  I was dressed in black
leather.  The leather over the knee boots felt so good against my thighs.
If it wasn't for the five inch heels, I could really get off on them.

   When the Marquis entered, I stood and assumed the proper position - feet
apart, hands locked behind my head, and my breasts thrust forward.  My clit
grew hard in anticipation.  It had been a week since last he saw me.

   He walked over to me and looked me up and down.  "Well, Gwen, I hope
this past week has been a relaxing one for you."

   "Yes, sir," I replied.

   He squeezed my left nipple while whispering in my ear, "This morning
your car went over a ravine and down an embankment on Route 374 just
outside of your hometown.  The car was destroyed by fire.  The driver's
body was burned beyond recognition, however, dental records show
conclusively that the driver of that vehicle was you, Gwendolyn Donohue."

   What was he saying?  My car went over a ravine?

   "You see, Gwen, in the eyes of the world you are dead.  There truly is
no turning back, now."

   I listened to the Marquis in disbelief.  My stomach was in knots.  This
meant that anyone I ever loved or knew now would think that I was dead. 
This truly gave him free reign to do to me what he pleased with no
repercussions of any kind.  Oh my God, what had I done?  Is this what I
really wanted?  I knew that I would succumb to any bizarre thing he did to
me no matter how much it might initially disgust me.  My initial reaction
was one of panic knowing that no matter what he did there would be no
repercussions whatsoever.  He was above the law now.  Would I be able to
survive?  What new and bizarre adventures were in store for me?  How much
more could my poor body take?  It didn't really matter did it?  It was my
choice.  I chose to stay, and now I must suffer the consequences of that
decision.

   He sucked on my nipple drinking the sweet nectar.  I felt a twinge in my
private parts.  My clit not only tingled but grew hard, like a little cock.

   "One thing that I need to take care of immediately is the issue of body
hair."

   "All my body hair has been removed, sir," I said.

   "Not all, dear Gwen," he replied.

   I looked at him confused.  I had no more body hair.  His depilating
cream took care of that.  It was all gone.

   "I don't understand," I said questioningly.

   He became irritated.

   "You don't need to understand." He viciously twisted my left nipple.  I
cried out in pain.

   "Get on your knees.  Spread you legs.  I want your pussy fully exposed,
and lock your hands behind your head.

   "Monique, bring me my riding crop."

   I did as commanded totally vulnerable to the Marquis.  Did my response
really warrant such drastic measures?  My breasts jutted out begging for
attention as they swayed on my chest now laden with sweet nectar.  He
smacked the side of my right breast with his crop.  He then smacked the
side of my left breast.  I winced in pain.  They swayed to and fro with
milk seeping out of my aroused nipples.  He got great satisfaction out of
my discomfort.

   "Monique, bring that floor length mirror here so that the slut can see,"
he commanded.

   Monique rolled the mirror over and placed it in front of me.

   The Marquis stood behind me, bent down, and placed his mouth close to my
ear.

   "Look in the mirror, Gwen."

   I looked at myself in the mirror with fear in my eyes.

   "Do you see any hair?"

   "Yes."

   "Where?"

   "My head."

   "Yes, very good.  There's hair on your head.  He tapped my head with his
riding crop.  What do you think we should do about that hair?" He ran his
fingers through my hair.

   I don't want to do anything with my hair.  I love my hair.  I have hair
to die for.  My long golden tresses have always been a source of pride for
me.

   "I don't know," I stammered.

   "You don't know?" He reached around and smacked the side of my right
breast with his crop and then did the same to the side of my left breast in
quick succession.  "Wrong answer!"

   Oh my God, he couldn't seriously be thinking of cutting off all of my
hair.  I would look like a freak - a large-titted bald bimbo.  My heart was
racing.  Removing my pubic hair was one thing, but to remove my beautiful
golden tresses would be devastating.  I would look so bizarre.  I would
look like something on the SciFi channel.

   "Gwen, do I like hair?" he whispered in my ear as he reached around and
stroked my clit with the crop.

   No, sir, you don't," I replied.  My heart was racing.

   "Right," he said as he continued to stroke my clit.  I was getting
aroused in spite of myself.  "What do we do with hair I don't like?" he
taunted.  He moved the crop down separating my pussy lips and probing my
hole.

   I know what he wants me to say.  Why doesn't he just do it?  Why must I
say it?  I know I have no choice.  I'm going to lose my beautiful hair
forever.  He wants to turn me into a freak.  He wants to humiliate and
debase me in every way possible, and there's nothing I can do about it.  I
chose to stay.  It's my own fault.  I could have left.  I could be home
right now safe in my home.

   I was aroused.  My pussy was on fire.  I couldn't think straight.  He
was waiting for an answer as he stoked the fire.  I must answer, and there
was only one answer he would accept.

   "We get rid of it," I stammered.

   "Yes, we get rid of it!  So, knowing this, tell me what we should do,"
he whispered in my ear as he continued to stroke my clit with his riding
crop and bury his tongue in my ear.

   No!  No!  He's going to make me say the one thing I would never think of
doing to myself - the cruelty of it all.  I have no choice.  I made the
decision to stay.  I had my chance to leave this madness, and I didn't.  I
have only myself to blame.

   "Cut my hair off?" I forced myself to say.

   "Why, yes, that's a splendid idea, Gwen?  Is this what you really want?"
he chided me.

   Of course, I didn't want this.  I loved my golden tresses.  Him and his
games; he was forcing me agree to this travesty and making it look like it
was my idea..

   "Yes, sir," I whimpered

   "Very well.  Monique, bring over the cart!" he said as he rose, standing
behind me.

   "You've made a very wise decision, my dear," he chuckled as he combed my
hair together as if to make a pony tail.

   Emotionally I was a wreck.  I was very highly aroused, and at the same
time so scared at what he was about to do.

   "Look in the mirror, Gwen," he ordered.

   I looked in the mirror and watched him holding my hair gathered together
at the top of my head.  He then picked up the scissors and placed them at
the base of my gathered hair.

   "Watch me transform you into a new woman," he said as he cut off my
golden tresses.

   One snip and my long tresses were gone.

   They were gone!  He held my hair in his left hand which he now deposited
in a wastebasket.  All that remained were short pieces of hair all over my
head.  He then picked up electric clippers and proceeded to shear off the
remaining hair.

   A tear escaped my eye and traveled down my cheek.

   Next my head was dampened with a warm wet cloth lathered with shaving
cream.  The Marquis stood in front of me, making sure not to block the
mirror.

   "Watch, Gwen," he said as he turned my head back towards the mirror with
the riding crop.  "I want you to watch."

   Monique took the straight razor and proceeded to shave my head.  I was
overwhelmed as I stared in the mirror.  Oh my God, what was happening to
me?

   The Marquis removed his clothes.  He stood before me.  "Don't you think
you should express your gratitude to me for fulfilling your wishes?"

   I took his huge cock in my mouth, and he rammed it down my throat in one
thrust.  He held it deep in my throat while Monique finished shaving my
head.  I continued to cry silently.  I couldn't breathe.  He was cutting
off my air supply.  I tried to push away - to get some air, but I couldn't.
His grip was too strong.

   "Ah, Gwen, what a commotion you are going to cause at our next
gathering, You know, if you had not asked me to rid you of your hair, I
wouldn't have done it," he chuckled as he released my head and allowed me
to get some air.

   I fought to get air in my lungs as his cock withdrew from my throat.  I
gulped in large mouthfuls of air as I panted, trying to recover form being
deprived of oxygen for so long.  My breasts heaved up and down on my chest
seductively.

   He then applied the dreaded depilitating cream to my head.

   I cried for now it was too late.  The cream was already destroying my
hair follicles.  Hair would never grow on my head again.  I had reached
another point of no return.  The Marquis satisfied with himself continued
to fuck my mouth with abandon.

   "Claire, bring over the milking machine.  Our little slut is way past
due."

   There was a flurry of activity around me as Monique cleaned up from my
hair debauchery.  Claire at the same time brought over the milking machine.
She reached down and squeezed and kneaded my nipples making them hard.  The
fire in my cunt was burning out of control.  Once more I was on fire.  The
cups were placed over my areolas and the machine sprang to life sucking the
sweet nectar from my breasts.

   God that felt good.  There was something arousing about having your
breasts milked.  My pussy was overheating.  If only I could reach down
there and satisfy my craving.  No one seemed to be watching.  The Marquis
had left the room, and Claire was busy adjusting the pressure on the
milking machine.  I slowly took my right hand off my head and slid it down
towards my clit.  God that felt so fucking good.  I rubbed and pinched my
clit sending chills up and down my spine.

   SMACK!  Claire slapped me across the face.

   "What the fuck do you think you're doing?  Haven't you been told to
never touch yourself?  Answer me," she demanded as she slapped me again.

   "I'm sorry," I sobbed.

   Claire slapped me again.  "I'm sorry, what?"

   "I'm sorry, madam," I quickly responded in frustration.

   "That's better, you big-titted bimbo." She then removed the suction cups
from my tits and took the machine away.

   "I'll be back to deal with you in a minute.  Don't you dare even think
about moving your hands from your head, you pathetic piece of shit."

   Claire was a monster.  What did I do that was so wrong?  Life was not
going to be easy with her around.  Life wasn't going to be easy anyway.  It
really didn't matter.

   Claire returned and ordered me to stand up.

   "Spread your legs wide," she said as she kicked me feet wider apart. 
She then took a four inch leather belt and put it on me.  She secured my
wrists to the two cuffs located on the side of the belt.

   "That should keep your hands out of trouble," she said as she rubbed my
pussy.  She nuzzled up close to me and ran her hands all over my body
feeling my tits, caressing my ass, and penetrating my vagina with two
fingers.  I was so turned on, I began to rotate my hips.

   "Is that better, baby," she whispered in my ear as she probed my pussy
looking for my G-Spot.  "Do you need to cum?"

   I was on fire.  God, this was wonderful.  She found my G-Spot, and I was
going crazy.  I was so close.  Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

   "Are you close?" she asked whispering in my ear.

   "Oh, yes," I said as she probed my ear with her tongue.

   "How close, love?" she asked as her left hand left my pussy and traveled
slowly up to my breast.

   "Real close, madam," I cooed.

   She backed off and punched me in the stomach.  She then grabbed me by
the nipples and twisted them viciously.

   I screamed out in pain.

   "That's too bad.  The Marquis says you can't cum," she sneered as I
broke down and cried in frustration.

   At that point the Marquis entered the room.

   "Is something the matter here?"

   "No, sir, I'm just finishing up with her milking," said Claire
respectfully to the Marquis.

   He looked at me and then at Claire who busied herself cleaning up.

   What can I say?  If I tell him what Claire did, she'll just take it out
on me later.  I sobbed and said nothing.

   "I want her prepared for bed.  Call Monique and Evelyn and tell them to
be quick about it."

   Monique and Evelyn prepared me for bed.  I took a bath and soaked. 
While I was bathing I could overhear them talking about my bald head.  I
couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but every once in a while
they looked over at me while they were talking.  I felt so self-conscious.
The reality of the whole situation was just beginning to sink in.  I would
never have long beautiful hair again.  Never!  I was filled with such
sorrow and hopelessness.

   After my bath, I was strapped down in bed and made immobile. 
Depilitating cream was again applied to my head for extra measure, although
I don't know why they bothered.  No hair had grown back on any other area
of my body, and I only had one treatment everywhere else.

   The Marquis returned to the room and approached me.  This was unusual
for him to be here this late in the evening.

   "I've noticed that your nipples are fairly long, Gwen, but not long
enough.  They are approximately an inch in length, and I want then to be at
least one and three quarter inches long - actually the longer the better. A
longer nipple is much easier to suck on and, of course, much more
sensitive, and a few of my guests complained the other night.  So I have
come up with a solution to the problem - an ingenious little invention."

   Why now?  Didn't I go through enough today?  How much more could I take.
My God, I had my limits too.  This could wait until tomorrow.

   He produced two small wire mesh cones.  They were circular at the bottom
with a circumference the size of my areolas.  They tapered up to the size
of my nipple.  Their height was a little over an inch and a quarter.  They
looked kind of like small ice cream cones.  The Marquis placed one over my
left nipple and pushed down into the meat of my tit which forced the nipple
up into the tapered end.  When it was fully inserted, he took a metal pin
and inserted it through the mesh, and then through the piercing in my
nipple, and out the other side.  Clips similar to those found on pierced
earrings hold the pin in place.  When the Marquis released the cone, my
nipple was stretched out a full inch and a quarter.  He repeated the
procedure on my other nipple.

   "There, after a few weeks of wearing those at night, your nipples should
be stretched out nicely.  Once they're stretched out to an inch and a
quarter, we'll replace those cones with inch and a half cones.  You get the
idea.  You'll have nice long nipples in no time at all."

   I was very much aware of my nipples.  They were extremely sensitive and
these cones raised my awareness acutely.  The effect wasn't unpleasant, but
added to my sexual frustration which was becoming the norm except for those
rare occasions when it served the Marquis's purposes to let me cum.

   With that, I was left alone for the night.  I was left with my own
disturbing thoughts, trying to make sense out of all that has happened to
me this day.  

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