The Breaking of Tracy part 7
Introduction:
The master has some time to kill
part 7
Killing Time
Baby is crying next to me on my bed. Baby, the head of the estate staff and my personal assistant’ is my most trusted slave. The other day she had not performed her duties to my satisfaction and so I had her spanked by the estate’s disciplinarian, Mistress Bitchcraft. An occasional corrective punishment is nothing out of the norm for Baby, for any of my slaves in fact. But Tracy’s first torture session had me riled up. Beating Tracy’s tender flesh in earnest for the first time was a true delight. But it gave me the desire to hurt a woman through sex. But not Tracy. My first time with her must wait. I was suddenly struck by the thought of Baby. As a funny play on words, she was later struck by me. Ah, torture humor. Funny.
I’m losing my place. While Tracy is being cleaned up for another session, I took Baby. As I mentioned, she’s no stranger to corrective punishment upon occasion. This was…ugly. I am currently laying on my back, enjoying my post orgasm numbness. Looking over at Baby, I see what I’ve done to her. She’s lying as still as a corpse, as she knows to do. Even so, she shivers and cries a little, unable to help herself. I am intimate friends with the term ‘hatefuck’. The word isn’t angry enough to describe the force with which I had entered Baby.
Baby was always pretty. I’m not sure she’ll be pretty anymore. Maybe. Maybe not. I am a violent man. I know this. Every couple of years I seriously hurt a slave. Baby’s face is now a mess of black bruises and blood. She sucks air through swollen lips, her nose being broken. Every minute or so, she forces herself to swallow. Poor thing passed out three of four times from my strangling her during the rape. My right hand dangles off of the side of the bed. I flick my fingers, getting rid of a bit of some of her hair still clutched in my had. Looking over at her, I stiffen a bit. The sight of her breasts, covered in bleeding bite marks, arouses me. I glance down her body, eyeing her bruised legs. Hmm, I managed to make her bleed from the rape. Baby’s no stranger to forceful sex. I’m a little bit proud of myself.
“Get up.” I tell her. She involuntarily jumps at the sound of my voice. Years of training can’t stop her from reacting to the things I’ve just done to her. Yes, I am proud of myself.
Baby gets out of bed, standing at the end while waiting further instruction.
“Dance for me. And touch yourself.” I tell her, not really watching. I can tell she swings her hips, tender as they are. I think she’s caressing her breasts with her free hand. All the while she cries.
I lay back and enjoy the fact that even after everything I’ve done to her, all the years of abuse and imprisonment culminating in tonight’s violation, she still obediently follows my every instruction no matter how degrading. Men cultivate vast fortunes and run for public office in a pathetic attempt to gain what I have over Baby.
Power.
I swing my legs off the bed and stand up. I walk over to her and, with no indication of what I have in mind, strike Baby upside the head. She falls to the ground without a sound, her training coming back to her.
“You’re a whore, Baby! First among all my slaves, but you’re still a whore. This has been a reminder. To the slaves, you’re the boss. To me, your dogshit on my heel.” I shove her face back down to the ground with my foot as I say this last part. “Understand?
“Yes daddy.” She replies. I think I hear a twinge of disgust in her voice. It’s nice.
“Stay where you are, turn your face up to me, keep your mouth shut and your eyes open.” She obeys me without hesitation. I grasp my penis and aim towards her now upturned face. She knows what’s about to happen, doing nothing to stop it.
The gentle burn that signals the oncoming relief flows through the length of my shaft. The golden stream of urine falls through the air towards Baby, who takes it in the face. She forcefully blinks from the steady sting as my piss dribbles into her eyes, but trying hard to keep them open. Her breathing becomes labored as some of it finds it’s way up her nose. Her swollen lips tighten as she forces herself to stay as she is. Gripping my shaft I alternate aiming at her ample breasts, down to her cunt and all over her face. She coughs and gags a few times, but through it all she maintains a neutral attitude to the degradation. Spent, I flick a few drops in her direction.
Looking down at her, covered in my piss, beaten, bloodied and bruised, an true sense of disgust wells up within me.
“When I come back I’ll want to see that you’ve licked all that up. You’ll be sleeping right were you are tonight, so get comfortable. You’ll resume your regular duties when I awake tomorrow.”
“Yes daddy, thank you.” Baby answers, before lowering face to the cement floor and begins lapping from the pool of urine around her.
I leave my room and walk down the corridor to Tracy’s room. Outside is Whore 3, standing at attention with her arms behind her.
“Rapewhore has been cleaned and put to bed?” I ask.
“Yes daddy.” She replies.
I slide open a slit in the door and look through. Against the far wall is a small dog cage. Inside is Tracy, curled up in a fetal position. Around her neck is a leather collar, which is chained to the cage. Neither the collar, the chain nor the cage are locked. They are symbolic. Tracy stays where she has been instructed to sleep, quietly sobbing. The sight is beautiful, in a sadistic sort of way.
“Suck me.” I quietly tell the Whore without taking me eyes off of Tracy.
The Whore drops to her knees, the latex she wears making sexy squeaking noises. She takes my manhood into her mouth and begins to suck it’s length. I don’t intend to orgasm, but I enjoy the sensation of a slaves mouth massaging my cock. My right hand grasps the Whore’s latex covered head as it bobs up and down. After a few minutes I pull myself from her mouth.
“You’ll sleep with me tonight. Do not move throughout the night.”
“Yes daddy. Thank you daddy.”
Even the most loyal of slaves get little more than a thing cot to sleep on. The few occasions I have a slave in my bed overnight are one of the few luxuries they have. I close the slit in the door and make my way back to my room, the Whore following me close behind. I enter just in time to see Baby slurping up the last of my urine from the floor. Wordlessly I walk around her and lay down on my bed, pulling the covers over me. The Whore lays down next to me, laying on her back perfectly still.
I lay next to her a long time, listening to the labored breathing of Baby at the foot of the bed. Absently, my finger finds it’s way to the Whore’s nipple. Slowly circling the aureola, hardening the nipple. I gently squeeze it and give it a twist. I think back on the days events. Torturing Tracy, making her cum from pain. Raping Baby. I find myself biting into the Whore’s shoulder without realizing it. Obediently, she makes no sound or movement. I fall asleep like that, biting the Whore and playing with her nipples.
***
My sleep was very refreshing. I’m reading the days paper after my breakfast, enjoying the morning. Normally I would be doing all of this in the actual rays of the morning sun. But as is my like, while training a new slave I spend the first few days completely in the basement.
I fold the paper and drop it on the table.
“You can take this away.” I say to the maid, who has been standing in the corner awaiting further instruction.
“Yes, daddy.” She says, shuffling forward in her awkward steps. The jingle jangle of her ankle restraints mark every step she takes in her 8” heels. She carefully leans forward to take away my tray, making sure to not hurt herself by moving incorrectly. The anal hook she wears isn’t sharp, but the wrong move could do real damage. I give her a playful swat on the ass as she leaves. I find myself in a good mood.
Because of Tracy. Because of what I am going to do to Tracy today. But I’m going to wait until later tonight. The Whores will be putting Tracy through basic instruction for another hour, which is exceedingly boring to watch and should not be interrupted. I’ll keep myself busy for a while.
I find myself walking the halls of the dungeon that takes up the entire basement of my estate. Considering the main building of my estate is 92,000 square feet, I am proud to boast the world’s largest sex dungeon. Most of it goes unused. The back part acts as slave housing, with it’s own controlled entrance. A handful of rooms act as training and disciplinary spaces. Mistress Bitchcraft’s living and personal gym are located down here as well. The space is only really used during my get togethers. Every other year I host an international rape and torture festival for a week. Other professional kidnappers and slave trainers as well as the sadistic social elite meet, celebrate and network. It really is the ‘IT’ place to be. But usually, as now, the place is empty.
I make my way towards the slave sleeping areas, thinking I may do a random inspection. As I pass a door with a coded panel next to it, I change my mind. I quickly enter the 9 digit code and open the door, climbing the short stairway behind it.
As my slaves are routinely injured, either through my beating and raping them or through actual discipline, I have a medical doctor employed. I secured her services after her release from prison. She had been convicted of certain going ons with her young daughter. I myself find the matter distasteful, but she really was a perfect choice. Desperate for work and a new life, morally flexible. Physically attractive. It matters not. All my slaves are of age.
Dr. Goode is at her computer when I enter. From the reflection off of her glasses, I can tell she quickly closes whatever window she had been looking at when she notices me.
“Uh, hello sir. Is there anything I can do for you?” She asks, pulling her dress down and smoothing it as she stands to greet me. She is fond of red dresses under her white coat and black shoes and wears them now. Even though she doesn’t work in public, she still dresses beautifully and wears impeccable make up. She even does her hair nicely every morning. Her short, curly, dark brown hair parted down the middle frames her round face wonderfully.
“Nothing in particular, doctor. I find myself with an hour and little to do. As it’s been sometime since I’ve checked up on your patients I’ve decided to rectify the situation.”
Dr. Goode being gay, has always been somewhat uncomfortable with my nudity. Despite my open robe, she smiles and picks up her clipboard from her desk.
“Certainly, sir. Starting with the newest case, you did a number on Baby last night. Three broken ribs, a cracked tooth and some vaginal tearing. In and out in under two hours, though I would ask that she not be required to have sex for a couple of weeks.” Dr. Goode flips a page.
“You sent a girl down here a couple of days ago to have her knees broken and her nipples cut off. She’s in a cast now and the nipples are healing nicely. Would you like to see?” She asks.
“Yes, please.” I reply. I’m keen to see how the slave is holding up.
On a hospital bed behind a curtain lies the red headed slave who wouldn’t keep her eyes to the ground. Her legs in fresh plaster casts, winched at an angle. Black sutures close the wounds on her breasts, where her nipples used to be. Her eyes widen at the site of me, but she stays still.
“How are you feeling today?” Dr. Goode asks.
“Very well, doctor. Thank you.” The slave responds in an even tone.
Dr. Goode returns her attention to me. “Would you like to move on?”
“Not yet.” I reply, before turning to the bed ridden slave. “Slave?”
“Yes daddy.” She asks, the perfect slave.
“Why did this happen to you?”
She swallows hard before answering. “Because I was bad and disobeyed you, daddy. I did not keep my eyes to the floor as you instructed me too.” As she speaks, I enjoy the sound of her Yorkshire accent. The northern lilt isn’t the most refined, but I’ve always liked it.
“What else happened as part of your punishment?” I ask.
“You…had men sent to rape my younger sister, daddy. Bad enough that she would never conceive a child.” She stays as still as a marble statue as she speaks, afraid of doing something wrong.
“Yes, you did make that happen. Baby informed me that your sister was successfully raped. Six men took her off the streets and abused her for about three hours. As the report she read to me makes it seem, she’ll never make you an aunt. Something to do with a lead pipe and a hammer being used. But you’ll be happy to hear that the doctors taking care of her are keeping an extra close eye on her. She tried to hang herself so she’s been placed on suicide watch.” I tell the slave.
Her lip quivers ever so slightly. My cock stiffens ever so slightly. Dr. Goode move her clipboard ever so slightly so as to block her view of it. I smile ever so slightly.
“Now thank me.” I tell the slave.
Without hesitation, she obeys. “Thank you daddy. I was bad and needed to learn my place. Thank you for breaking my legs. Thank you for cutting my nipples of. And thank you for…hurting my sister.”
“You are welcome, slave. And if ever you want it all to happen again, I will oblige. In the meantime, has Dr. Goode been taking care of you?”
“Yes, daddy” I turn from her to Dr. Goode. “Doctor?”
“I’ve molested her twice. She can’t eat pussy worth shit.” Dr. Goode answers. “Is that alright, sir?”
“Any other slaves?” I ask, ignoring her question. Dr. Goode takes this to mean that it is, in fact, alright. She flips the page on her clipboard and reads.
“Lastly it’s the blowjob slave. Her teeth have all been removed. It should be another week before I recommend using her, though. Would you like to see her as well?” She asks.
“I think not. Tell me of The Hole.” We make our way back to her desk.
“Everything’s fine, as I understand it. We have to feed her through a tube now and hydrate her through an IV because she tried to starve herself to death. Other than that, all the surgeries went well. She healed nicely. Unless I hear something from the kennels, I won’t be seeing her outside of the usual check ups.”
I bite the inside of my lip, thinking. “Tell me…would you be able to castrate her if I asked you to?”
Dr. Goode grimaces at the suggestion. “Well, yes. It’s not that hard to cut of a clitoris. Is it something you’d like done?”
“Not yet. I’m hoping the threat of it done without anesthetic will make her more compliant.” I answer. I eye Dr. Goode’s reaction to my comment. She takes it well.
“Well, sir, if ever you would need me to do it, I can perform the procedure.”
“I’d want it filmed, naturally.” I explain.
“Oh…naturally.”
“I’ll get back to you on the matter.” I turn and leave the doctor to her business and make my way down the stairs. Entering the dungeon corridor again, I continue down to the slave housing area. The slaves live in a series of dormitory like rooms. Kitchens and bathrooms are off to one side, all open without walls or stalls. The lack of privacy helps keep everyone honest. Some slaves are sleeping between their shifts. Further down the rows of beds I see a Headmistress dressing down a slave.
The Headmistress’ are the four most senior slaves of the estate. The wear baby doll shoes, a red plaid skit and a white button shirt. They maintain the slave’s schedule and keep things running, second to only Baby and Mistress Bitchcraft. The Headmistress, B if I am correct, slaps the slave across the face. I hear something about being late for kitchen duty. I don’t really pay attention.
I walk the length of the room. Each slave who is awake stand at attention as I approach and pass them, as they are expected to do. Footsteps approach from behind.
“Daddy. Is there something that I can do for you?” Headmistress B asks. I turn. The Headmistress stand at attention, arms behind her back. She has her blond hair pulled tight back in a sever ponytail. I’ve always found ponytails very fetching in a woman who disciplines other women.
I do have some time to kill. “Put on a show for me.”
“Yes, daddy. Is there anything you would like to see?” She asks.
“Surprise me.” I tell her.
“Yes, daddy.” The Headmistress nods. She points over to a slave, a chubby blond girl. “You, bring a chair for daddy to sit in. And you, get down on all fours between daddy and myself. And you, bring some lubricant.” Two slaves hurry off as instructed as a petite brown haired girl gets down on all fours. On her knees she rests her forearms on the cement floor, arches her back and raises her face to me.
“You, come here.” The Headmistress points to a very tall blond girl. She has short blond hair and blue eyes. I think she might be the Scandinavian girl I acquired two years ago. The Headmistress whispers something in her ear. The Scandinavian girl nods. The chubby slave comes with a folding chair for me and I take a seat as the other slave arrives with a tube of KY jelly.
I look over to the chubby slave and tell her to kneel beside me. I take her head into my lap and begin to pet her head as if she was a cat.
The Headmistress stands of to one side at attention, giving the floor to the Scandinavian slave and the petite slave. The Scandinavian slave squeezes the tube of KY jelly onto her right had, which she has made into a fist. Smearing it amply over her fist she gets down on her knees behind the other slave.
“Take it.” She tells the petite slave and begins to insert her hand into the petite slaves asshole. By the petite slaves reaction, she is not overly used to anal penetration. She begins to groan in pain, sucking in air and painfully gasping. Still she tries hard not to move away from the penetration.
I am unable to quite see who much she has forced into the small slave ass as of yet, but I would guess a few fingers are already inside of her.
“Take it.” The tall blond slave says again. The larger girl hurting the smaller girl, telling her to take it is really a thing to see. I imagine I’ll showcase something like this at the next festival.
My cock stiffens.
“Take it.” The tall slave repeats. The small slave’s first scream rings out as more of the taller slave’s fist makes it’s way inside of her.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” She screams out. A desperate expressions spreads along the petite slave’s face. She wants to stay and obey her instructions, but she is clearly in too much pain.
The Scandinavian slave forces her arm visibly forward into the petite slave. “Take it.” She says. The petite girl shrieks louder, her voice cracking. She begins to try and crawl away, but the larger slave wraps her free hand around the little girls waist and pulls her back. “Take it!” She commands the smaller slave, slamming her fist deeper into the small anus of the girl.
“AHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The petite slave howls in pain as the Scandinavian pushes deeper. Having pulled the smaller girl back by the waist, show now partially holds her back end up in the air so as to refuse her escape. The angle offers an excellent view of the Scandinavian pushing deeper into the smaller slave, her wrist passing into the small girls anus.
“Take it!” Again she commands and further she pushes into the asshole wither her wrist. The petite slave struggles. But the Scandinavian holds her tight and pushes further in. “Take it.” Deeper and deeper her arm goes. The small girl thrashes against the much larger slave, shrieking in agony as her insides are filled up by the Scandinavian. The large blond slave’s chant of ‘Take it’ continues as she forces more and more of her arm up into the little slave. Soon the Scandinavian’s elbow reaches the painfully stretched rectum. The petite slave’s face is twisted in pain and agony, wet with a stream of tears coming down her face.
“TAKE IT!” The Scandinavian screams. She begins to violently piston her arm inside the little girl, raping the slave’s asshole with her arm. The petite slave is shocked into silence as this new pain rips through her body. She begins to scream. Her voice, which I assume must have been very high pitched, is now raw from screaming. Her shrieks sound very primal as her violation continues. Along the Scandinavian slave’s arm I begin to see a red smear form. More and more she punches her arm in and out of the smaller slave, beating her from the inside out. The blood from the obvious tear deep inside her slowly spreads and coats the blond slaves arm.
“TAKE IT!” She screams again, pulling her left arm away from the waist of the petite slave. She makes a fist and quickly punches the small girl in the back of the head. Immediately she then pulls her arm out of the girl’s anus. The smaller slave gives a long, howling shriek as the is emptied and then collapses against the cement, loudly crying. As the Scandinavian slave sits on her knees, panting. She keeps both her fists slightly raised, as if she had just won some sort of competition. Her right arms is smeared red with a little brown.
My cock throbs. I push the chubby slave away and sit still. One touch. One breath. One anything. My cock is ready to spontaneously cum, desperate to release my load. I don’t want to. For long moments we all stay like that. Me, not moving in my chair, the Scandinavian slave panting with raised fists and the petite slave sobbing into the cement.
Eventually, I clear my throat. “Headmistress B?” I say.
“Yes, daddy?” She answers, still at attention.
“Reward yourself and these two. Well done.”
“Thank you, daddy.” The three slaves answer in unison, the petite slave through muffled sobs of pain.
I let my slaves have simple rewards from time to time. Ice cream. Use of playing cards. That sort of thing. This was definitely worth it.
I’m ready. This was more than perfect. I stand and walk away from the slave dormitory, my erect cock bouncing before me. I make a strait line to my next destination. The Whores should be done with Tracy now.
I’m taking her virginity this very second. No more waiting.
