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NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 25 Jan 2008 17:35:40 -0600
From: hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com (Hungry Guy)
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Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} HUNGRY FOR FUSCHIA [3/?] {Hungry Guy, Lady Fuschia} (M/F Mpov Mdom Fsub cons piv oral anal ws choke strangle reluc rom caution)
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Date: Fri, 25 Jan 2008 23:10:05 -0500
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{ASS} HUNGRY FOR FUSCHIA [3/?] {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 3 - GUY ENJOYS HIS SLAVE      *
*****************************************

    Guy slept in the next morning as well, having used Fuschia's face 
as a urinal a couple of times during the night.  He slept very soundly, 
snuggled and warm in his soft bed under several layers of blankets, 
while Fuschia lay flat on her back, strapped down, motionless, shackled 
by her wrists and ankles in his slave machine, with her head locked in 
his chair-box and her hair soaked through and through with his urine.

    Guy arose a little after 10:00 and stepped up to Fuschia.  "Are you 
thirsty, Fuschia."  

    "Yes, Master.  Please, may I have some water?"

    "Open your mouth, slave?" he told her.

    Fuschia sighed and obeyed, opening her mouth for him.  He grabbed 
his cock and sprayed a stream of urine directly into her mouth, 
splashing a little on her face at first.  Fuschia swallowed his flow as 
best as she could until her mouth was full and couldn't swallow fast 
enough, then the overflow simply ran down the sides of her face, into 
her hair, and into the plastic tub under the "chair."

    He squirted a few last drops onto her face, then walked around to 
the other end of the insidious device, its sole purpose being the 
complete and utter humiliation of female slaves. 

    Facing her, he unlatched the gallows holding her ankles rigidly in 
place and then shackled her ankles to connection points at the sides of 
the machine, her legs spread open.   

    "What are you doing to me now, Master?" Fuschia sobbed.

    "I'm feeling horny.  I'm going to suck you and then fuck you."

    "Oh, yes, Master!  Please do!"

    Guy knelt down at the foot of the machine between her spread knees.  
Spreading her labia with his fingertips, he bent forward and gently 
licked up the length of her vulva from her perineum to her clitoris.  
Fuschia quivered gently at that first lick.  He licked back down again, 
evoking another gentle quiver from her.  Licking back up for the third 
time, lapping the fresh wetness seeping from her vagina, he stopped at 
her clitoris.  Drawing the little nub between his lips with his breath, 
he sucked it deep into his mouth.

    He began steadily drawing it in and out, in and out, over and over 
again, until Fuschia finally let out a long slow moan.  

    Guy continued sucking on her clit like it was a lolly, drawing it 
deep into his mouth and back out again.  

    Fuschia began panting and quaking while locked into the slave 
machine.  

    "Oh!  Oh!  Oh!" she screamed as Guy sucked relentlessly on her 
clit.

    Minutes passed as Guy continued his steady rhythm of sucking on her 
clit.

    Fuschia bucked wildly against her bonds and cried out, "Stop!  
(gasp)  I can't! (gasp)  Take it!  (gasp)  Any more!" 

    Guy ignored her and continued sucking, swallowing mouthfuls of her 
natural lubricant.

    Fuschia began moaning incoherently.  Guy continued to suck on her 
clit.  Her vagina was oozing sweet feminine juice faster than he could 
swallow, and it dribbled down his chin into her ass crack. 

    As her breath became erratic, Guy could feel her heart pounding in 
her inner thighs pressed against his ears.  Still, he continued to 
suck.

    Her rabid thrashing eventually calmed down to occasional twitches 
with every flick of his tongue against her outstretched clit deep in 
his mouth. 

    At last he stopped and crawled up the length of the machine to face 
her.  She was out cold, her breathing slow and shallow.  He closed the 
lid of the toilet seat and lay flat upon her.  

    After that marathon pussy suck, his cock was harder than it had 
been for a long time.  Resting his body upon hers, he slid his hungry 
manhood into her thoroughly soaked entrance and began pumping.   
 
Though he was facing her, and could hear her panting, his view was of 
the top of the toilet lid closed upon her face.  Well-primed as he was, 
he exploded into her in a sudden wave of ecstasy, filling her pussy 
with his hot seed.  

    All too soon, he was expended.  He dismounted her and replaced her 
legs in their original outstretched position and replaced the gallows 
over her ankles.  

    Listening at the lid, she still breathed a slow shallow pant, so he 
left her as is and went downstairs to have breakfast.

    A cup of tea, and some bacon and eggs filled his belly, then he 
caught an episode of _Max Headroom_ on the _Sci Fi Channel._  Edison 
Carter was chasing down a story about _BlipVerts,_ malicious television 
advertisements that hypnotized people to buy the advertised products, 
often with harmful side-effects to the unwilling consumers.  Edison and 
Theora saved the day, with some help from Max, their AI sidekick, of 
course. 

    Returning upstairs, he went over to Fuschia, still shackled and 
belted inside his slave machine.  Opening the lid to take a pee, he saw 
that she had revived.  She scrunched her eyes and mouth closed as he 
emptied his bladder upon her face.

    He then unlocked the chair-box and unshackled her from the machine.

    "What now, Master?" she asked in a hoarse sort of wheeze.

    "You've been a lusty wench all your life, eh, Fuschia?"

    "Yes, Master.  I told you I'm always randy.  Having another go with 
me now?  But I'm all drenched!"   

    "Not just now.  Before I fuck you again, you need your pussy 
muscles tightened up a bit."

    "How, sir?"

    He reached down and tugged at her elbow for her to stand.  "Follow 
me."

    He led her across the short hallway into a second bedroom full of 
obviously home-made furniture similar in construction as his slave 
machine.  

    "Come stand here," he said, pointing to a spot in the middle of the 
room.

    Retrieving a step-stool, he stepped up next to her and attached a 
short chain to each of her wrist shackles.  He then attached the other 
ends of the chains to two large eye-bolts mounted into the ceiling 
several feet apart.  

    Next he attached two more chains to her ankle shackles, and then 
attached the other ends of the chains to two more recessed rings 
embedded flush with the floor after bending up flaps in the carpeting 
to reveal them.  

    The result was that Fuschia was hanging, spread-eagle, from the 
ceiling in the middle of the room.  

    "How is this going to make my muscles stronger, er, down below, 
Master?"

    "Ha!  You'll see, my sweet Fuschia!  You'll see!"

    Guy returned to his master bedroom for a moment, and slid a small 
box out from under his bed, and returned to the dungeon. 

    Kneeling before Fuschia, he opened the box and produced several odd 
implements.  

    First, he hung a small plastic box against her belly hanging by a 
loose leather strap around the back of her neck.  Two long wires 
dangled loosely from the box, one of which ended at a pair of metal 
alligator clips.

    Next, he took two small metal pins from a small plastic box and 
jabbed them into each of her pussy lips.  "Ow!" she screamed as a 
trickle of blood oozed from each of the pinpricks.

    "It'll stop hurting in a minute," he said.

    Next, he clipped each of the alligator clips to the ends of the 
pins sticking from her pussy lips.

    Next, he removed a small electric gizmo and plugged it into a power 
point on the adjacent wall.

    Next, he plugged the wire from the box on her chest into a jack in 
the transformer.

    Next, he removed plastic rod, that looked somewhat like a knitting 
needle, but had one rounded end and an eyebolt and a wire exiting from 
the other end.  He slid the plastic rod, rounded end first, into her 
vagina.  "Grasp this with your pussy muscles," he said.

    Next, he plugged the cord dangling from her pussy into that plastic 
box hanging against her chest.

    Lastly, he attached a small bowl by three leather straps to the 
eye-bolt in the needle inserted in her pussy.

    Still in the box were a number of assorted small barbells of 
various incremental sizes: 1 pound, 2 pounds, 4 pounds, 8 pounds, and 
16 pounds.   By combining them differently, he could create a weight in 
1-pound increments from 1 pound up to 31 pounds.  He removed a pink one 
labeled "1 pound" and set it in the bowl.

    Fuschia gasped and tensed up.

    "Now, Fuschia.  Better not let go of the rod."

    "This isn't so hard," she said.  "I can grip this, easy."

    "What about after several hours?"

    Fuschia gasped.  "Several hours, Master?  No!  You can't leave me 
like this for several hours!  Please, Master!"     

    "Yes I can.  Now let me explain.  If you drop the rod, the wire 
will pull out of the box on your belly.  That'll close a switch, 
sending the current from the innards of a cattle prod over there 
through your pussy lips."

    "Please master!" she gasped.  "Don't do this to me!  Please!"

    "Today, you'll have to hang on to only one pound.  Each time we do 
this exercise, I'll increase the weight by a pound until your pussy 
muscles are tight again."  

    At that, he left the room and went back downstairs.

    Flipping through the channels revealed a _Thunderbirds_ episode on 
_Nickelodeon._  Lady Penelope was trapped in a runaway monorail, and 
_International Rescue_ had to stop the train before it reached a bridge 
that had been washed out.  But, of course, the heroes saved the day.  

    About halfway through the program, Guy suddenly heard Fuschia 
screaming.  He ran upstairs to see the bowl containing the weight on 
the floor between her legs with the little plug pulled from the jack on 
the box hanging at her belly.  Fuschia was screeching as her body 
twitched and jerked.  Guy unplugged the power cord from the wall, 
whereupon Fuschia stopped screeching and merely struggled to pant 
rapidly. 

    "That will not do, Fuschia," said Guy.  "You need to hold the 
weight for longer than a half-hour."

    "But I can't, Master!" she cried.

    "You can.  And you will eventually be able to hold 16 pounds with 
your pussy muscles."

    Guy reached down and slid the plastic rod back up into her pussy 
and plugged the wire back into the box on her belly. 

    "Hold on tight!" he said as he plugged the cord back into the wall.  
"Now, I'm going to take a walk down the street to my local and grab a 
bite.  You don't want to drop it while I'm out."

    "No!  Master!" she gasped.  "Please!"

    Guy turned and left.  It was a short walk to _Le Buse Et Crachat_ 
where he had a burger and chips and a pint of Guinness.

    After playing a few games of foosball with his pals, he returned 
home and found Fuschia wincing, but still grasping firmly onto that 
plastic rod with her pussy muscles.

    "Ah!" he said.  "Your pussy muscles are getting stronger already."

    "Master!" she panted.  "Please!  I can't hold on another moment..."

    Guy unplugged his apparatus from the wall, and she immediately 
dropped the bowl to the floor with a _CLANK!_

    He unfastened her from the ceiling and the floor and, after letting 
her use the loo, led her back into his room.

    While she stood, he pulled his bedding down to the foot of the bed 
and motioned for her to climb in.

    She lay on the bed in the anticipated position with her arms and 
legs spread out in spread-eagle fashion.

    "Not quite," he said.

    "No?" she asked.

    "Spin around," he said, "With your head at the foot of the bed and 
your legs stretched out against the headboard."

    She tumbled around as instructed, her bum was pressed against the 
headboard and he shackled her ankles to the sides of the headboard at 
the top so that her legs formed a "V" up against the headboard.  He put 
a posture collar on her neck, which was sort of like a medical neck 
brace, to keep her from being able to roll her head from side to side.  
And he put a metal ring in her mouth with a strap that he buckled 
around the back of her head--after all, he didn't want her to bite him 
in her sleep in the middle of the night.

    After shackling her wrists to the ropes that held her ankles the 
previous night, he pulled the bedding up over her so that only her legs 
and crotch were visible against the headboard.  

    Leaving her while he took a shower, he returned a short while later 
and set a pillow upon her muff and climbed into bed on top of her.   

    Lying prone upon her he let his thighs straddle her skull while he 
slid his erect member into her mouth.  Closing the light, he rested his 
head upon the pillow on her crotch and closed his eyes.

    He squeezed his crotch muscles a few times, feeling his cock swell 
inside her throat.  He relieved himself into her mouth, then drifted 
off to sleep.

    Guy woke in the middle of the night because Fuschia was bucking and 
squirming under him.  At that, he realized that he had a hard-on and 
was deep down her esophagus.  She probably couldn't breathe.  Her 
throat muscles were massaging his cock so well that he erupted deep 
down into her, causing her bucking to become even more strenuous.  But 
after his release, his cock shrunk again, she ceased her exertions, and 
he fell back to sleep. 

    That happened a couple more times during the night, and 8:00 came 
too early.  He climbed off her body, tumbled out of bed, grabbed a 
towel, and headed for the shower.  

    With the shower over, he returned to the bedroom and untied her.  

    "Master," she whimpered as he tugged on her collar and had her put 
on an adult diaper and then led her into a cage suitable for a large 
dog in the corner of his bedroom.  Fuschia had to curl her arms and 
legs up snugly to fit inside the small cage.  

    Guy then handed a college composition book and several pens.  "I 
have to go to work today," he said.  "I want you to do lines.  You are 
to write, 'I am a worthless slave' on every line.  The composition book 
has 100 sheets with 25 lines on each side.  That's 5000 lines.  I 
expect you to have finished when I return home from work tonight."

    Guy then closed the cage door and put a heavy brass padlock on the 
clasp.

    "But Master," Fuschia pleaded.  "I can't write 5000 lines in a day!  
That's impossible!"

    Guy reached for his car keys and pressed the button on that 
"special" fob.  Fuschia screamed and bounced wildly around the small 
cage.  

    "You'd better make it possible, bitch!"

    Then, almost as an afterthought, Guy took a large water bottle off 
the side the cage--the kind with a metal tube hanging down so that an 
animal could suck water out of it--and pissed into it, then replaced it 
onto the cage near Fuschia's head.

    Fuschia began writing while Guy dressed for work.  By 8:30, he was 
out the door.  A short drive on I-90 brought him to the offices of 
Megatelco where he chatted up his colleagues over a cup of coffee 
before logging on and picking up where he left off work on a COBOL CICS 
program to issue a DB2 query and send a reply back to the client 
application via MQ.  

    His workday was uneventful, and he arrived home at 5:30 that 
evening.  When he want upstairs, Fuschia was still scrambling to write 
her lines.  

    "You're not done yet?" he said with a huff.

    "Please master!  Just one more page and I'll be done!"

    Guy pressed the pain button and held it down for ten long seconds 
while Fuschia writhed and flailed inside the tiny cage.

    Guy went downstairs to nuke some dinner for himself and watch TV 
for a while.  He went upstairs some time later and gave Fuschia a bowl 
of cat food for dinner.  He also refilled her water bottle with some 
fresh urine.  He had her change her diaper and then went to bed, 
leaving her in the cage.

    ###

    Guy woke at 8:00 the next morning.  After letting her change her 
diaper, giving her another dish of cat food, and refilling her drinking 
bottle, he gave Fuschia a new composition book and set her to writing 
her 5000 lines again, from scratch.  

    Fuschia was sobbing while writing feverishly as he left for work.

    8 hours later, he returned upstairs.  The composition book was by 
her side.  "Did you finish your lines?" he demanded.

    "Yes master," she said with a sob.  He unlocked the cage and she 
handed the composition book to him.  Her fingers were red and swollen.  

    He checked the book, flipping the pages and checking that she had 
filled every line of every page.  

    "Good girl!" he finally said as he closed the book.  "I'll give you 
a reward tonight."

    "Thank you, Master," she said as she rubbed her swollen fingers.

    "But for now, I want to use you.  Come on out of there."

    Fuschia crawled out of the cage and followed Guy downstairs.  He 
placed his fellatio harness over her head and buckled it tight and told 
her to wait for him.

    He fried a burger for dinner and took a Guinness out of the fridge.

    Then he returned to her, stepped into the harness and wore her.  
With his cock down her throat, he sat and clicked on the TV.  He found 
an old rerun of _SOAP_ on _Comedy Central_ and settled down to watch 
the programme.

    He had two orgasms during the show, and relieved himself once.  

    Later on, he disconnected her and took her upstairs whereupon he, 
once again, tied her spread-eagle onto his bed, but right-end-up this 
time.  But then he reached into his bag of toys, which he now kept open 
next to his night table, and placed a ball gag into her mouth, buckling 
it tight around her head.

    Undressing, himself, he climbed into bed and crawled between her 
legs.  He gently teased her vulva, sliding his finger between her 
rubbery pussy lips.  It no longer surprised him to find her already 
soaking wet.  

    Being as most of his work was already done for him, he buried his 
face in her crotch and began licking.  He licked up along the seam 
where her thigh met her pussy lip, then back down the other side.  Then 
he plunged his tongue between her lips and lapped up the juices within.  

    He, at once, began fucking her with his tongue, sliding it in and 
out of her vagina.  He could feel her panting as he swallowed gulp 
after gulp of her feminine juice.  Then he moved up to her clit and 
sucked it hard into his mouth.  Holding it deep in his mouth with his 
suction, he flicked and licked it with his tongue, again and again.  
She came but in a moment.  He continued to stroke her clit as he played 
her body like a trumpet--controlling every quake and gasp from her 
through the delicate movements of his own tongue.  

    He brought her down gently after her climax and crawled up her body 
and sat on her chest.  "Oof!" she snorted.

    He crawled up and sat in her chin and placed the tip of his rock-
hard cock to one of her nostrils.  With the ball gag in her mouth, he 
pinched the other nostril closed and began stroking himself.  

    Her gaze told him that she wasn't sure what he was doing, but it 
came clear all too soon when his orgasm erupted, and shot his load 
directly into her nostril.

    She began quaking as he continued to stroke himself, shooting wad 
after wad up into her nose while she held her breath.

    At last, he had climaxed, and slid back.

    "Now suck it down so you can breathe again," he told her.

    He watched as she sniffled his cum up through her sinuses and 
swallowed.  When he was sure that she had swallowed it all, for she had 
resumed breathing through that one open nostril, he removed the ball 
gag from her mouth and settled down upon her for the night.

    He gave her a quick kiss before dozing off on top of her.

    ###

    The next morning, Guy put Fuschia into her cage before taking his 
shower.  After his shower, he gave her another composition book and 
told her to write "My body is Master's sewage tank" 5000 times.

    At work, some developer kept crashing the test CICS region, and he 
had to bounce it in Omegamon several times.  

    Fuschia had filled her composition book when he returned from work 
at 5:30.  

    "Ah, that's a good slut!" he told her.

    That night, he again tied her spread-eagle head-to-feet in the bed 
with her bum against the headboard with her legs up in a "V" against 
the headboard and her head under the blankets, and wrists tied to the 
bottom corners of the bed with her arms stretched out.

    He then climbed into bed, pressed his pillow into the crook of the 
"V" of her legs at her crotch, mounted her, and slid his eager member 
into her mouth.   

    Then he got a wicked idea.

    Reaching for the fob, he pressed her punishment button, sending an 
electric shock through her collar.  Her body bucked sharply and he felt 
a tingle in the head of his cock.  Man, it felt so good that he did it 
again!  And again!  And again!  Every time he tortured Fuschia with an 
electric shock to her neck, the tingle in his cock brought him closer 
to climax.  One more press set his orgasm flooding Fuschia's throat.  
He held the button down while he shot wad upon wad of cum into 
Fuschia's throat while her body bucked and thrashed wildly under him.

    His climax finally wound down, and he set the fob down on his night 
table.  Laying his head on the pillow, he drifted off to sleep, his 
soft member hanging limp in the warm wetness of Fuschia's mouth.

    Guy woke, not realizing that he had been asleep at all.  He was 
flying through the air like Superman.  This was as it should be, of 
course.  He waved his arms to fly higher.  The air was as thick as 
molasses, but he climbed above the clouds.  Down below, the landscape 
was dotted with farms and high-rise skyscrapers.  He dove down, lower 
and lower and spotted a run down old petrol station.  A snake of cars, 
as far as the eye could see, was queued up along the shoulder of the 
road waiting for a fill up.  Mindy, his email friend, was chained to 
the pump, filling car after car with petrol.  Her beautiful blonde hair 
blew in the wind as cars rushed by on the adjacent highway.

    Upon seeing Guy, Mindy moaned in a husky voice, "Free me! Enslave 
me forever!"  

    Guy grabbed Mindy and jumped into the air with her.  Higher and 
higher they flew together until they landed on a cloud as the moonlight 
shown upon them from above.  Ripping her filthy stained coveralls off 
and tossing them over the side of the cloud, he mounted her.  Kissing 
her, he rammed his hard cock between Mindy's legs, and she squeezed him 
with all her might.   In but a moment, he was deep inside her, and his 
orgasm erupted.  He began filling her with his hot seed in wave after 
wave of ecstasy.  

    His orgasm was so powerful that the cloud, itself, began bucking 
and quaking violently.  Mindy began to vaporize in his arms.  

    "No!  Mindy!" he cried.  "Don't go!  Stay with me!  Be my slave 
forever!"

    Darkness came to his eyes, and the cloud turned lumpy.  Fuschia's 
body was twitching feebly as he lay upon her.  His cock was spitting 
out the last of his wet dream into her throat.  

    Still half-asleep, he sensed that he should probably give Fuschia 
some air, so he lifted his hips up and felt a reassuring breeze against 
his balls as she caught her breath.  

    A few minutes later, he was fast asleep again.  By morning, he had 
no recollection of his wet dream to which Fuschia was the beneficiary 
of his nocturnal emissions meant for Mindy.  

    ###

    The next morning, being Monday, Guy put Fuschia in her cage before 
leaving for work.  He gave her a fresh pad of paper and told her to do 
lines once again.  He told her to write, "My body is Guy's personal 
property, for him to use however he chooses to."

    She completed her lines by the time he returned home, and he put 
Fuschia in his slave machine that night.  

    The next day, he gave her more lines to do, "The only reason I have 
a mouth is to be a hole for Guy to stick his cock into."

    The next day, he had her write, "The only reason I have a stomach 
is to be a container for Guy's cum and urine."

    The next day, she wrote, "I will always obey Master Guy, 
immediately and without hesitation."

    And, finally, on Friday, she wrote, "My only purpose in life is to 
provide holes for Master Guy to fuck and to be a receptacle for his 
waste."

    That Friday night, Guy returned home with a pile of lumber in his 
boot.

    He let Fuschia out of her cage and told her to bring it all in and 
lay it in the spare bedroom upstairs.

    He took a shower while she brought the lumber in.  Then he watched 
television while she prepared his dinner.  Then he sat on the sofa and 
ate while she knelt in front of the sofa on her hands and knees while 
he used her back as a footstool.

    He spent the evening watching a Mythbusters marathon on the 
Discovery Channel, then brought Fuschia upstairs.  

    He was in the mood to sleep upon her, so, as had become typical, he 
shackled her to the bed, lying on her back with her legs in a "V" 
against the headboard.  

    He climbed into bed, and slid his cock into her mouth and rested 
his head on the pillow nestled in her crotch.

    He gave her a drink, and was soon fast asleep.

    ###

    Guy continued to sleep upon his slave every night with his cock in 
her mouth while she was tied and shackled spread-eagle in the bed 
between the sheets.  

    Come the next Saturday morning, he suspended her from the ceiling 
again with her legs pulled apart.  Again, he stuck two pins into her 
pussy lips and wired her up.  Sliding the rod up into her pussy, he 
placed 2-pound weight in the pail.

    "Master!" she shrieked.  "That's too heavy!  I can't hold that by 
my pussy!  I just can't!"

    "You will," he said, "or you will feel the pain!"

    "No, Master!  Please!"

    Guy turned and left the room.  He spent the day writing a new 
story, taking occasional snack breaks.  In the evening, he drove down 
to the market and had a sandwich at a sub shop then did his weekly food 
shopping.  

    When he returned, Fuschia was still gripping onto the weight with 
her pussy, though her face was red and she was obviously straining to 
hold onto it.

    He put his food away and then took a shower.  Only then, did he 
release her from her plight.

    But then, he dragged the exhausted Fuschia into bed and strapped 
her face-down on the bed.  His cock was hard and hungry for the one 
hole that it had not yet penetrated.  

    So, spreading Vaseline generously on his cock and in her anus, he 
lay upon her and pressed the tip of his cock to her tight sphincter and 
bore down.  It slid in slowly as he continued to bear down on his hips 
until his hips were pressing tightly against her bum cheeks and his 
cock was engulfed by her rectum.

    "Gaaaaaaa!" she cried.  "It hurts, Master!  It hurts!"  Then she 
screamed loud enough to drown out a Concorde taking off from Heathrow!

    It was so tight that he hardly had to thrust in and out.  Ignoring 
her pleas, her puckering anus was sufficient sensation to trigger his 
orgasm into her rectum.  

    He lay upon her as his member slowly grew soft inside her anus, and 
eventually fell out.    

    He then lowered his head against hers and fell asleep upon her back 
with his cock squeezed gently between her bum cheeks.

    ###

    Guy continued to sleep upon his slave through the week, using her 
body as if it were a mattress, usually with her bum against the 
headboard with his cock in her mouth all night long.  

    On Friday night, he shackled her thusly and sat on her chest.  The 
panicked look on her face told him that his full weight concentrated on 
her chest made it difficult for her to breathe.  

    "You'll be able to breathe in a moment, Fuschia," he said.  "I've 
got some personal grooming to do for a moment, first."

    Taking a nail clipper from his night stand, he began clipping his 
fingernails.  As he clipped each nail, he let the clipping drop into 
her mouth.  The posture collar around her neck, and the ring in her 
mouth made her mouth the perfect receptacle for his clippings. 

    Not done at that, he then clipped his toenails.  

    he then took a shower, giving her time to swallow his clippings, 
then had a beer to relax before climbing upon her.

    As he lay upon her before sleep overtook him, he pondered her body 
underneath him.  What a rush it has been so far to use a woman's body 
as nothing more than a toy--and object for his amusement.  It occurred 
to him, as he lay there, that she still had some holes that he might be 
able to fuck yet.

    At that, he sat up and removed her posture collar.  He turned her 
head sideways and sat on the side of her head.  He put his cock in her 
ear and began stroking, just as he had done to her nose that time 
before.

    His orgasm slowly built until it came upon him and he flooded her 
ear canal with his jism.

    With the ring in her mouth, Fuschia moaned, "Aaaaaaah!  Aaaaaaaaah!  
Aaaaaaaah!" as his orgasm wound down.

    Satisfied that he had just fucked one more of her holes, he 
replaced the posture collar, lay down upon her, slid his cock in her 
mouth, and fell to sleep.

    ###

    The next morning, being Saturday again, he strung her up with his 
pussy trainer device, and hung a 1- and a 2-pound weight from her pussy 
for a total of 3 pounds.  

    After just a few seconds, her face turned red and she panted, 
"Master...too...heavy...I...can't...hold...it..."

    Guy sighed and said, "You have to hold it.  You know what'll happen 
if you don't."

    Fuschia began whimpering as he left the room.  Some time later, he 
drove down to the mall to buy a new X-Box game and browse around.  He 
grabbed a sub at the food court, and also bought Evanescence's new CD.

    Upon returning home, Fuschia was still quiet.  he went upstairs to 
see that he was passed out, hanging limply from the apparatus, the rod 
and the bucket dropped on the floor between her legs.  As he 
approached, her body was twitching to the electricity running through 
her body, and she was breathing slow shallow breaths.

    He unplugged the shock generator and slapped her a few times across 
the face.  After a moment, she regained consciousness.

    "Master..." she gasped.

    "This won't do, Fuschia!" he scolded.

    Fuschia started to cry.  "I'm sorry, Master.  I couldn't hold it.  
I screamed, and screamed, and screamed!  Where did you go?"

    "I was out," he said.  "I went to the mall for a while.  I just got 
back."

    Fuschia didn't answer, and just continued sobbing.

    Guy slid the rod back into her pussy, plugged the shock generator 
back in, and went downstairs to play his new game until bedtime.

    He was well into the game much later, and Fuschia had remained 
silent the whole time.  So, he upon returning upstairs, and brought her 
into his bedroom. 

    He pondered whether to position her with her head at the head of 
the bed so he could fuck her pussy, or with her head under the covers 
with his cock in her mouth.  he finally decided to put her head under 
the covers with his cock in her mouth--that way he can pee during the 
night without having to budge out of bed.

    * TO BE CONTINUED *

-- 
Hungry Guy
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/HungryGuy/www
http://storiesonline.net/library/author.php?name=Hungry_Guy
http://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=171541
http://www.bewilderingstories.com/bios/hungryguy_bio.html
http://www.ruthiesclub.com/members/archives/author.php?a=167

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