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From: hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com (Hungry Guy)
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Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} HUNGRY FOR FUSCHIA [2/?] {Hungry Guy, Lady Fuschia} (M/F Mpov Mdom Fsub cons piv oral anal ws choke strangle reluc rom caution)
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Date: Mon, 21 Jan 2008 19:10:04 -0500
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{ASS} HUNGRY FOR FUSCHIA [2/?] {Hungry Guy, Lady Fuschia} (M/F Mpov 
Mdom Fsub cons piv oral anal ws choke strangle reluc rom caution) 

COLLABORATION BY:  Hungry Guy and Lady Fuschia

*****************************************
* CHAPTER 2 - GUY BRINGS HIS SLAVE HOME *
*****************************************

    Eight hours later bought them to a smooth landing at Newark Airport 
in New Jersey in America.  

    "C'mon, Fuschia!" Guy urged.  "Hurry up!"  

    "Yes, sir," Fuschia gasped as she lugged the heavy bags through the 
airport terminal to the monorail station.  

    Guy smiled at the occasional bystander who gawked at the ordinary-
looking fellow being followed by a halfway-naked slut lugging his bags 
for him.

    Taking their seats, Fuschia leaned against Guy as the monorail 
train lumbered slowly down the track from terminal to terminal, and 
finally away from the airport.  Five minutes later, the monorail 
stopped again at the Amtrak station on the Northeast Corridor Line a 
couple of miles from the airport.  

    Guy then bought an extra train ticket for Fuschia, checked their 
baggage, and saw that the next train to Schenectady didn't leave for 
another two hours.  Guy considered that it had been too long since his 
cock had been down Fuschia's throat.  Alas, there was nowhere 
sufficiently private, and they were still three hours from his house by 
train. 

    "Are you hungry?" Guy asked his slave woman.

    "Yes sir," she said.

    They found a restaurant in the station where they had a quick meal.  
Then, an hour later, they were waiting on the platform for their train.  

    A train to Washington DC stopped briefly on the southbound track, 
then their northbound train arrived shortly after. 

    Upon taking their seats, the train sped ahead and arrived in New 
York City a few minutes later.  The train held over in New York for 
about a half-hour before leaving the station and heading north through 
Manhattan--the heart of New York City.  Crossing the Harlem River 
brought them through some woods and then the train broke out into a 
scenic vista along the eastern shore of the Hudson River.  The hours 
passed uneventfully as the train sped northward at breakneck speed 
while the scenery turned more and more rural.  Then, just as the 
scenery began to turn more urban again, the train pulled into the 
Rensselear Station.  

    Guy's car was waiting for them in the long-term car park under the 
station, and it was another half-hour drive to his house. 

    By the time they got in the door, it was past midnight and Guy was 
exhausted from their travels.  

    "We're taking a quick shower and hopping into bed, Fuschia," he 
told her.

    Fuschia yawned and said, "Yes, master.  Let's."

    Under the warm water, Guy drew Fuschia close and kissed her, then 
told her to wash him.  Then he did the same for her.  He kissed her 
again, and led her to bed, still naked from the shower.   

    "Ah!  It feels good to be home in my own bed again!"

    Snuggling in bed, Guy mounted Fuschia in eager anticipation of 
moments to come when Fuschia once again asked, "Master?"

    "Yes?"

    "Please give me an orgasm tonight!  Please, master!  Please!"

    Guy yawned, "I'm tired and I just want to bang you quick and go to 
sleep.  Maybe tomorrow."

    "Yes sir," she said softly.

    He reached down, expecting to have to work her wet this time, but 
was surprised yet again to plunge his fingertips into moist flesh.

    "My word!  Are you wet constantly, wench?"  

    "I need release, master!" she panted.  "I haven't had release at 
the hands of a man for weeks, and I've been just so randy since the day 
you bought me."

    Guy paused in thought for a moment, then got off her.  

    Fuschia sat up quick.  "Master!  Did I say something wrong?"

    "Not at all, my sweet slave!  A hot shower will often do wonders to 
invigorate a man's libido.  You're about to get your request 
serviced."  He added with a chuckle, "But you may wish you hadn't."

    Guy removed a large black satchel from a closet by his bed and, 
after rooting around for a moment, removed several lengths of light 
rope.

    Approaching the bed from the side, he tied one of each of four 
lengths of rope to each of her wrists and ankles, then tied her spread-
eagle to his brass bed frame, stretching her arms and legs out tightly.

    "Oh, Master!" she gasped as he mounted her once again with still 
one more rope in his hand.  "What will you do with that one?"

    Guy wrapped the rope around her neck and pulled it tightly, cutting 
off her air.  He tied it in a neat bow as he met Fuschia's panic-
stricken gaze.  With a smile, he crawled down her body between her legs 
and ever so gently licked along the seam between her labia without 
parting it with his tongue.

    Her body quivered slightly to his oral touch, though she remained 
in choked silence.  Pressing his tongue against the seam with slightly 
more pressure, he parted her labia with his tongue and licked slowly up 
over the opening of her vagina to her clitoris and back down again.

    Normally, he would delight in lingering and teasing a woman in this 
way, but knowing that he had to bring her off quickly before she 
suffocated, he moved straight away to her clit and sucked the little 
nub into his mouth.

    Holding it deep in his mouth with the suction of his breath, he 
licked and flicked the tiny top with his tongue, drinking tiny wisps of 
her juices at the same time.

    Then, sucking on it like a lolli, he drew it in and out, and in and 
out, bringing her ever closer to climax.  

    It seemed odd to Guy for a woman to be so utterly silent at such a 
time, which only reminded him of the need to act quickly.

    He sucked in and out with greater vigor until, at last, she began 
bucking with every twitch of his mouth.  What a rush to be in direct 
control over a woman's orgasm this way!  To be able to play her clit 
like a trumpet!  

    Mindful of the time, he stopped and climbed up her body.  Her 
complexion had a tinge of blue, and her eyes were glazed over and 
failed to focus while she rolled her head from side to side.

    Guy quickly untied the rope.  Fuschia immediately began sputtering 
and coughing, struggling to catch her breath.

    The danger over, Guy lay upon her and slid his hungry member into 
her where he had just made her conveniently sopping wet for him to do 
so.  

    The combined wetness of his saliva and her own feminine juices made 
for an amply slippery entry, and he slid into her easily.  Sucking on 
her genitals had already brought him close to his own climax, so he 
exploded inside her with little effort.  

    At that, the day's exhaustion took over, and he fell to sleep upon 
her once again.

    ###

    Come morning, Guy yawned while lying upon Fuschia in her first 
morning in America.  She was still tied, spread-eagle, to his bed while 
he lay upon her.  He was horny again, as he often was in the morning, 
and reached down between her legs to feel how eager she was to be 
penetrated yet again.  He was no longer surprised to find his fingers 
suitably wet.  

    Fuschia smiled as he wrapped his fingers around her throat and he 
pushed his hips down and entered her.  It was so much more satisfying 
to be fucking his slave in his own large bed than in some single bed in 
a tiny hotel room.  Feeling his cock slide in and out of her soaking 
pussy brought him ever closer to orgasm while she slowly turned blue.  
Her wrists and ankles bound, forcing her to endure whatever indignity 
and risk to her life that he chose, added to the thrill such that he 
exploded into her without much effort.

    He released his grasp from her neck and lay upon her as the thrill 
of his orgasm subsided.  

    After a bit of a sleep-in, he rolled off her and climbed out of 
bed.  Feeling hungry, he headed out of the room.  He grabbed that 
manila folder with Fuschia's papers in it as he left.

    Fuschia asked in a meek voice, "Master?  Are you going to leave me 
like this?"

    Without turning to face her, he said, "Yeah.  I might want to fuck 
you again later."  He exited the bedroom and went downstairs to cook 
some bacon and waffles for breakfast.  

    Putting his feet up on the coffee table, he began searching through 
that envelope while eating and sipping a cup of Earl Gray tea that he 
had bought at Harrods.  He flipped through her British passport, and 
studied the photo on her driver license for a few moments.  Then he 
pulled out a document that looked like a detailed resume.  "Curriculum 
Vitae," it was titled.  _Ah,_ he thought, _This is that CV.  What the 
British call a resume._  Though it was far more detailed than any 
resume he had ever seen.  Reading through it, he followed her career 
doing legal work involving her local fire brigade.  _Hmm, didn't the 
auctioneer mention something about a fire brigade?_ 

    He slid the documents back into the folder and clicked on the TV 
whilst he nibbled on a slice of bacon, whereupon he found a _Star Trek_ 
marathon on _Spike TV_ to enjoy his breakfast by.  

    By the end of that one episode, he was, indeed, horny again.  He 
wondered if he could actually come again so soon, but that mattered 
not, for he had wanted to try so many of his homemade toys for so long, 
and now that he had a slave to use however he saw fit to use her, the 
time was nigh.

    During the station break, he returned upstairs, walked around the 
bed to that special closet once again, and rooted through his toy bag 
until he found an item made of numerous leather straps and rings.  He 
removed a heavy leather collar with various rings and attachment points 
mounted upon it.  The collar had a somewhat peculiar small rectangular 
box attached to it, covered in leather, with a tiny padlock hanging 
from it.  He also extracted an adult incontinence diaper from a package 
that he had purchased from a medical supply store that he had purchased 
for just this occasion.  

    Turning to face her, he looked down at her tied to his bed as she 
looked up at him with pleading eyes.  "Master?  I need to use the loo!  
Please, Master!"

    "In a moment," he answered held the collar up for Fuschia to see, 
though she was still tied spread-eagle onto his bed.

    Two small metal prongs passed through the leather under where the 
leather box was mounted.  Two metal strips, attached to those two 
prongs, ran parallel along the inner surface of the collar.

    Fuschia swallowed at the sight.  

    Guy said, "Back in London, some bloke was selling an electric slave 
collar something like this.  Remember?"  

    "Yes, Master.  At the Camden Town market."

    "But mine's better!"

    "How so, Master?" she squeaked.

    "Here in the States, pet stores sell dog training collars operated 
by wireless remote control.  But like that one we saw in London, 
they're flimsy and easily removed by human hands."

    "Yes, Master."

    "So I bought one," he continued, "and removed the shocker unit, and 
mounted it on a slave collar.  Then I enclosed the electronic part with 
a leather box mounted on the collar so that the slave can't remove the 
battery or otherwise defeat it."

    Fuschia gasped once again, her gaze glued to the collar.

    Guy then lifted the heavy collar up placed it around her neck as 
she squirmed helpless tied to the bed, he then snapped a heavy brass 
padlock to the clasp at the back of her neck.

    Then, he untied her wrists and ankles.  "Now you may use the loo, 
then come back here."

    "Yes, Master!" she said and rushed into the bathroom and closed the 
door.  Guy walked over and opened the door as she was just sitting on 
the toilet.

    "Never close a door on me!" he scolded.  

    "I'm sorry, Master!" she squeaked.

    "You're a slave.  You have no privacy any more.  Understand?"

    "Yes, Master.  I'm sorry."

    Guy reached over to his night table, picked up his keys, and 
pressed a button on what looked like a remote car alarm fob.  

    Fuschia screamed and threw herself onto the floor, clawing 
furiously at the collar around her neck.

    After a moment, Guy released the button and Fuschia caught her 
breath. "Please master!  I'm sorry!  I'll obey you perfectly!  I'll do 
anything you say!  Please don't do that to me again!  Please!"

    Guy told her to finish what she had to do, and stood leaning 
against the doorframe, watching her do what he needed to do as she 
turned slightly red.  

    Fuschia finished her business and stepped back into the bedroom 
where Guy handed her the collection of leather straps and steel rings.  

    She hefted the heavy apparatus over her shoulder and followed Guy 
downstairs.  The next episode of _Start Trek_ had just begun, so he sat 
on the sofa and told Fuschia to set the harness down and to fetch him a 
couple of beers, bring them in a Styrofoam cooler, and set it by the 
sofa.

    While she was in the kitchen searching for the requested items--he 
know it would take her a while to learn where he kept everything--he 
untangled the harness.  It was, in fact, two harnesses in one.  One 
harness fit snugly over a woman's head with a steel ring strapped 
tightly in her mouth.  The other harness fit around his hips and under 
his legs, and held that self-same ring snugly to the base of his cock.  
Thusly, he could wear a slave like that indefinitely.  

    He had also brought down a pair of leather wrist shackles for her.

    When Fuschia finally emerged from the kitchen with that cooler of 
beer, nicely filled with ice, Guy told her to put the adult diaper on 
and then kneel before him in front of the sofa.

    She looked a little embarrassed to put the diaper on, but she 
obeyed and then knelt at his feet.  She looked up at him as he stepped 
around and shackled her wrists behind her back.  Then he fitted the 
harness over her head and buckled it in several places at the back of 
her head, forcing that ring into her mouth and holding her jaw open 
wide.

    "Aaahhh!  Aaahhhh!" she gasped as he stepped around to face her.  
The bulk of the leather straps of that harness hung limply from that 
ring embedded in her mouth.

    Grabbing the harness, he spread it open and stepped into it.  First 
one foot, and then the other.  Then he pulled it up, as if pulling up a 
pair of slacks, yanking her face up with it.  He pulled it up and slid 
his cock through that ring in her mouth.  Buckling the belt buckle 
pulled that ring tightly to his crotch, and forced his hard cock past 
her throat and deep down her esophagus.  

    Fuschia immediately began choking and gagging and bucking 
violently.  

    Guy sat on the sofa, pulling her face down with his hips.  Tears 
rained down her cheeks from her bulging eyes.  

    "Get used to the sensation!" he scolded her.  "You're going to 
spend many days with my cock down your throat in the years to come!"

    He lifted his legs up over her shoulders, burying her face in his 
crotch, and set his feet upon the table.  Looking down, all that was 
visible was the top of her head squeezed between his hairy thighs.

    The sensation was a new definition of ecstasy.  Her gagging 
squeezed and massaged his cock, practically milking it.  In no time at 
all, he exploded into her throat.  That evoked even stronger gagging 
from her, drawing even more cum from his loins.  The vicious cycle 
repeated itself for a while, as her gagging maintained his orgasm, 
while his throbbing cock deep down her throat continued to make her gag 
and choke.  

    But eventually his balls ran dry, as balls are wont to do under 
these situations, and his cock softened.  Her gag reflex subsided and 
she began panting, sending a tiny breeze in and out across his pubic 
hair.  

    He reached for a beer and sat back to watch Captain Piccard and the 
rest of the crew escape whatever space-time anomaly or alien threat to 
be sent their way.

    As the _Star Trek_ marathon progressed, the beer was flowing 
through his body as beer is wont to do.   

    During the subsequent episode, his cock grew hard simply from the 
sensation of being perpetually engulfed in a woman's mouth.  Her gag 
reflex took over once again and thoroughly drained him once more.   

    By evening, he had a nice beer buzz.  He imagined that much of the 
beer that he had drunk so far had found its way into her diaper.  He 
had also grown hungry.  But not wanting to disengage his cock from his 
slave's mouth, he stood and walked slowly into the kitchen as she 
crawled backward in front of him with her mouth glued to his crotch.  
He nuked some shrimp and chicken nuggets, then returned to the sofa to 
enjoy his dinner during the last episode of the _Star Trek_ marathon 
that day.

    Upon the conclusion of the episode, the clock on the TV chimed 6 
PM.  He stood and yawned.  But the dozen or so beers that he had drank 
during the day knocked him back down on the sofa in a wave of nausea.

    He clicked off the TV, leaned back, and closed his eyes.  When he 
opened them again, the clock announced it to be 11:30 PM.  "Oh my!" he 
moaned.  He had to take a wicked piss, so he and tried to stand to go 
to the toilet, only to fall face forward on top of Fuschia who was 
still harnessed to his cock. 

    He tried to sit up, and Fuschia immediately began kicking and 
trashing about her face lay pinned under the full weight of his body 
bearing down by his crotch upon her jaw. 

    He sat up, almost wrenching her head off of her shoulders, and 
emptied his bursting bladder into her throat one more time.   

    Fully relieved, he unbuckled the harness from around his waist and 
stepped out of it.  Fuschia met his gaze with bloodshot eyes, then 
jumped up and ran headlong into his downstairs lavatory whereupon she 
puked up the most vile-smelling of vomit of all time that smelled like 
a mix of beer and piss.

    Guy staggered over to the lavatory and slurred, "You stupid slave!  
You reject my gifts to you!"

    She leaned up from the toilet and faced him.  "I'm sorry, Master!  
I couldn't help it!  I've never done anything this extreme before!"

    "No?"

    "Well, not since that time in the London Eye the day after you 
bought me, but that was just a little."  She made the strangest sound 
again, and instantly turned to fill the toilet with ever more piss-
beer-flavored puke.

    Guy felt his own share of queasiness, so when Fuschia finished 
puking, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her upstairs.  

    He told her to go into the bathroom, and throw her wet diaper in 
the trash.  

    While she did so, he opened his "special" closet yet again and he 
pulled out three large green steamer trunks.  

    "What are you doing, Master?" she asked as she entered his bedroom.

    "You'll see."

    Opening the trunks, he removed an assortment of parts to some sort 
of homemade machine.  Laying the pieces out on the floor, he began 
bolting it together. A half hour later, he had assembled what appeared 
to be a long narrow padded platform with various stockades, belts, and 
shackles along its length, and with a white box at one end.  He 
unlatched the box and swung the upper half up open revealing the bottom 
half to be lined with plastic with a drain hole at one side.  

    "Get in there," he said.

    "Get in?" she squeaked.  "In that--thing, Master?" 

    "Yeah!  C'mon!  Get your ass in there!  Now!"

    Fuschia lay down on the platform.  Guy closed a stockade over her 
ankles, attached her wrist shackles to bolts on the side of the 
machine, and buckled a number of belts across her chest, belly and 
legs.  He then slid a section of PVC pipe between her legs, through an 
oval shaped hole in the machine under her bum, with a slot in the pipe 
facing her pussy. 

    Guy paused.  "I built this years ago, more to fulfill a fantasy 
than anything, never expecting that I'd actually get to use it."  

    Fuschia whimpered a reply as he slid a small plastic tub in a slot 
in the side of the machine such that it would be directly under that 
hole.  "In this machine, you can pee and poo as you need to."  He slid 
another plastic tub under the head box, under that drain hole.

    Lastly, he closed the box over her head and latched it, framing her 
face in an oval hole that almost looked like her head was inside a 
toilet bowl.   

    With his slave so installed, and being past midnight just then, he 
went to the bathroom to take a quick shower.  Shortly after, returning 
to his bedroom after his shower, Fuschia was sobbing slightly.  

    "What's wrong?" he asked.

    "What is this thing I'm in?" she whimpered.  "What are you going to 
do to me?"

    "Actually, I gotta pee again."

    "No!" she shrieked as he stood up to the box as if facing a toilet.  
He pointed his dick downward and let go.  A hot stream of piss shot out 
of the end of his dick and splashed against her face.

    His piss flowed down the sides of her face, and into her hair, and 
dribbled noisily into that plastic tub under the drain hole.

    At that, he yawned, got into bed, and closed the light.

    Fuschia's gentle sobbing was music to his ears that quickly put him 
to slumber. 

    * TO BE CONTINUED *

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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