Testing the Submissive: The Story & Confessions of a Masochist Read online

  “Um, I’d say I got at least a few hours, yes.”

  “Good. You’ll need it.”

  “Sir?” It was the first time I’d called him Sir in over a week; however, I detected a change in his tone of voice.

  “Two separate limos are picking us up at the airport. I’ll be heading home to sleep of course. You’ll be taken to a private rental residence where four Korean businessmen are staying. They will spend the next 12 hours whipping you, and fucking you.”

  He had said it so matter of factly. I was too stunned to speak. A similar feeling washed over me as I had felt only minutes earlier. I was sad that my vacation as his girlfriend was over; but strangely glad-to-be-home as his pain slut.

  Leaving the airplane, I couldn’t deny my new French thong was remarkably wet in anticipation of what these four Koreans had in store for me.

  CHAPTER 9: KOREAN ART

  Forty eight hours later…

  Normally Lewis waited until my body healed before calling for me. This time he wanted to see the fresh handiwork of the Clients. I removed my overcoat slowly. Not that I was trying to be dramatic, I was still that sore. I was about to remove the remainder of my clothing, but Lewis stopped me. He wanted to begin our post session interrogation instead. I stood before him still wearing my loose fitting T-shirt and a pair of light track pants. Underneath that, as Lewis would soon see, there were serious welts, deep bruises, and a few spots where the skin had broken. The Koreans worked me over, but good. They had whipped me, and fucked me all night long.

  But before viewing the evidence himself, Lewis launched into the questions:

  “Did they whip and fuck you at the same time, or did they take turns?”

  “Mostly they took turns Sir, but the order would change, as well as the length of time. It wasn’t particularly structured, but by the end, each of them enjoyed ample time with me alone.”

  “Who went first?” he asked.

  ‘They tied me up, in an awkward uncomfortable position, and then they played some sort of a Korean game, similar to rock paper scissors I guess. The one who won, I believe his name is Kai. He went first.”

  “What did he do?”

  “My body was arched backward, it’s hard to explain, but essentially my torso formed a bow. My tummy was stretched and became a perfect target. Kai had a heavy piece of thick rope. He soaked the rope in the kitchen sink making it even heavier. Then he whipped my stomach with it, from just under my breasts to an inch or so above my pubic area.”

  “How did you react?”

  “I grimaced and stifled my cries, best I could. A few times the pain overwhelmed me, and I howled aloud. I did my best to maintain my composure.”

  “How many times did he strike you?”

  “About seven or eight times, and then another of them, I think his name is Ace took over – but it was because Ace wanted to show them a particular technique.”

  “What was the technique?”

  “He swung the heavy rope, but just at the moment of impact he pulled sharply toward himself, so at the cusp of contact the rope was dragged across my skin, in effect causing a harsh rope-burn along the length of the welt.”

  “Did it lessen the pain or worsen it?”

  “It was neither less nor more severe, it was just different. The rope-burn added a new aspect to the agony. It felt like my skin was being burned off.”

  “How many did he deliver?”

  “Ace only gave me one more, but then the others took a try with the new trick. Some got it. Some didn’t get the timing quite right. Regardless, my stomach was in pure hell.”

  “Show me your tummy.”

  I lifted my T-shirt up, not enough to reveal my breasts, I’d save that for now, but enough to show Lewis my belly and waist. The horizontal welts were still very visible. In fact, they had darkened. The strikes where the pull-technique was applied, left a unique mark. The bruising wasn’t as dark, but the skin was chafe from the burn. Lewis could see that upwards of a dozen strikes had decorated my flesh. A few of the strikes had also wrapped around my waist.

  “What was next on your agenda of harm?”

  “The men untied me and made me kneel over the ottoman. The Korean who was next in the queue beat my ass using his belt. I don’t know his name because he was quiet and barely spoke. He lashed at me quite recklessly. He was also the first to fuck me, but that happened later.”

  I answered a few more questions, then pulled my track pants down and bent over, so Lewis could get a good look at my ass.

  “What are these nicks and scratches from?”

  “That’s from his belt buckle. Halfway through he flipped it over and used the business end.”

  The interview lasted another hour. I told Lewis everything and showed him the other parts of my body. My breasts of course, my nipples. My legs. I even pulled open my butt cheeks to show him my asshole. One of the Koreans had taken a pencil and snapped it against my asshole over and over. His aim was so accurate, and his method so perfected – it actually bruised my puckered hole. He wasn’t the first to fuck me, but he was the first to fuck my ass. He did so immediately following his abuse, knowing I was still very tender from the punishment.

  “How many orgasms did the Koreans have, in total?”

  It took me a minute to count. Two of them fucked my pussy once, two twice. Three blowjobs. Two took my ass. One masturbated on my face and one on my tits. Thirteen orgasms in total. I guess three of them came three times and one of them four times.

  “How many times did you cum?”

  I hated answering this question because it was always so humiliating. I confessed I had three orgasms myself. Twice when a cock was inside me, and once in the wee hours of the morning, after all the Koreans had fallen asleep.

  “Tell me about that last orgasm,” Lewis requested.

  I told him how we were all in one large recreational room in the lower level of the home, where all of the evening’s proceedings had taken place. Coincidentally, there were four sofas in the room, and one by one each of the four men claimed one. The last guy to use me had jerked off all over my breasts. I was still partially bound. He went to the restroom and came back with a warm towel which he used to wipe away most of the cum. Then, in an act of kindness, he untied me and motioned toward the bedroom. I had the opportunity to sleep in the privacy of my own room, on a bed no less. Instead I smiled as an indication of gratitude, but shook my head ‘no thanks’. I wanted to stay where I was - in the same large room, surrounded by my four abusers. I felt humbled in their presence. Soon each of them was snoring lightly, or at the very least clearly asleep. I lay there, completely exhausted, still suffering from jet lag. There were remnants of cum still in my hair and leaking out my pussy and ass. My fingers gravitated toward my clit. Just the contemplation of cum leaking out of me was arousing, despite my fatigue. Not to mention the sight of welts and bruises all over me. I masturbated while my torturers slept cumming one final time. It felt strangely blissful. Then I passed out for almost ten hours.

  Lewis listened intently as I told the story, after which he handed me a check.

  “$28,000 thousand bucks, Sir!!!”

  “Yes, the Koreans are executives for a major consumer electronics company; and happily paid 10 grand each for that lovely session with you.”

  I couldn’t believe I had earned so much. I was strangely proud of myself, and relieved that Lewis was able to earn a decent commission on this one, considering he paid for everything in Paris.

  “Would you like to get fucked now, whore?”

  My eyes lit up! Lewis had never fucked me on our continent. We had not yet made love on our side of the ocean. It would verify that Paris was not just a one-time thing. My eyes watered with tears of joy!!

  “Yes. Yes! YES!!” was all I could utter.

  “Then sit the fuck down cunt,” was his cold reply.

  Sit the fuck down? What did that mean? When Lewis reached for the phone I knew I’d been had. Noooooo! How could he tease me l
ike that? The bastard.

  I was numb while Lewis waited for the person on the other end of his cell to answer. Fuck!! I can’t believe I thought he was going to fuck me. How did we go from Paris to this? I said nothing. Instead I cast my eyes downward and stared at the floor. I wanted to say so much: you fucking jerk, I would do anything for you, anything, and yet you treat me like shit.

  “Yo, dude,” Lewis spoke. I could only hear his side of the conversation, but it was enough. He and whoever he was speaking to exchanged hellos, and then Lewis got down to business.

  “Anyway, you know the whore you and Brutus messed up last month?”

  Brutus? Oh no. He was speaking to Grekko. Not Grekko! Of all people, Grekko?

  “No, no, no, everything’s fine – in fact, more than fine. I’m calling because she wants to see you again, no charge this time.”

  The conversation didn’t last very long. It didn’t have to. The part that worried me the most came at the very end.

  “Now listen, Grekko. She’s already quite marked up this time. Yes, there are marks and discoloration all over her body as you’ll soon see. Therefore I have a suggestion which I’m certain you’ll adhere to. If Brutus joins the party, and I’m sure he will – concentrate on the soles of her feet.”

  The soles of my feet? Oh crap. That must be the only part of me that isn’t tender.

  As a final degradation Lewis’ parting words hurt as much as any whipping: “You’re the one who wanted to get fucked whore, so stop your whining.”

  “Yes Sir,” I replied. “Thank you. This worthless whore thanks you Sir.”

  Then I took a taxi to see Grekko.

  CHAPTER 10: IN THE CAR

  Seventeen long days later…

  I was getting worried. Did Lewis forget about me? Did I do something wrong? Is everything okay with his life? Normally Lewis arranged for a post-assignment interview within a week or so of the session. Seventeen long days had passed since Grekko’s cock had been inside me; followed by radio silence.

  For a few days afterward, I could barely walk. Grekko went to town on the soles of my feet alright. Instead of making me suck him off that day, he opted to force his fat cock into my pussy. I’m sure he figured since the visit was “my” idea, and a freebie no less – he better make sure I enjoy it. Meanwhile, slut that I am, I came all over that filthy cock of his. It pained me to see the smug look on his face. Little did he know that I would have given anything to be back at Lewis’, fucking a real man’s cock. Nope, in his view I was there by choice, and at my request. What else could I do but thank him when he finally dismissed me?

  I had to play along: “This little whore would like to thank you, Grekko Sir, from the bottom of my heart, for agreeing to see me on such short notice. Thank you for letting me cum. And thank-you Brutus, for making sure the bottom of my feet matches the rest of my body – I’ll be sure to think of you every time I walk around in the coming days.”

  I was in the car driving when Lewis finally phoned. I was overjoyed to say the least. He asked where I was, and I gave him an approximate location.

  “How far from your home would say that is?

  “Um, I think it’s about an hour’s drive.”

  “I want you to make three strops on the way home.”

  “Three stops, Sir? I mean, yes of course Sir.”

  I assumed Lewis had made arrangements, and I expected he was about to provide the addresses. Needless to say, I was surprised as he elaborated on my day’s mission. I was to stop at three different bars of my choosing. In each bar I was to select some random guy, who if willing would be the recipient of a free blowjob, no strings attached. I cringed at the thought of this. As much the idea of approaching these guys, as the act I would perform on them. How would I find them? What would I say? ‘Hey, excuse me, in the mood for a quick blowjob?’ They’ll think I’m a hooker.

  Lewis continued with his instructions, “phone me exactly six hours from now at 8:00 pm when you’re back home, and I expect there to be the loads of three men in your stomach when you call. Is that understood?”

  “Yes Sir, I understand and will do my best.”

  “I’m sure you will, little cunt. Do not give them your real name or number. Remain anonymous.”

  “I will Sir. I’ll be careful, and I’ll be mindful of the time, knowing I have six hours to complete all three.”

  “What kind of a person would do what you’re about to do?”

  I guess Lewis wanted to humble me as I was about to embark on my little excursion, “Only a depraved and pathetic whore would do this, Sir.”

  He hung up without saying goodbye.

  I took a deep breath, and tried to remain focused. Okay, I don’t want to go to seedy bars, as the clientele there will be less than desirable. I don’t want to go to high-end bars where the clientele will be suspicious and stuffy businessmen. I need middle-of-the-road. Grey collar workers, probably. Service men perhaps, on the road stopping for lunch or a beer. My looks will come in handy today. Okay, think…think – where should I go? I decided to adjust my route in order to drive through a trendy tourist area heavily populated with bars and restaurants. It was still heading in the general direction of home; but would provide many more options in terms of good places to stop.

  My first location was an English pub, The White Lion. I was nervous as hell. I sat at the bar where I could scope out the place and ordered a gin and tonic. Fate smiled on me, as within minutes a man came in and ordered a beer at the other end of the bar. Uncharacteristically, with drink in hand, I went to join him. He looked a bit perplexed as I took the seat to his immediate left.

  I needed a story. A plausible excuse why a girl as attractive as me would suddenly approach a man who she has never met and offer to suck his cock on the spot, no less. In the car, I had come up with a strategy.

  Sounding as heart-broken as I could I said, “Hi. I know you don’t know me, but I have a huge favor to ask. I just found out my boyfriend cheated on me, and I want to get him back. I NEED to get him back. I know this seems crazy, but will you take a picture of me, sucking your cock…so I can email it to him. Please?”

  As would be expected, there was fifteen minutes of back and forth, where he probed into my story, and I made up lie after lie to reassure him I was the real deal. When he agreed, we both looked at each other, but where? I suspected he might be married but didn’t want to ask. His car? Unfortunately it was mid-day, and there were too many people buzzing around. My mark waved the bartender over, and the two of them whispered for a few minutes. For me, time was of the essence, so the closer the better. The bartender grabbed a wad of keys and led us toward the restrooms. Perfect! A storage room. It was no bigger than a broom closet, but otherwise ideal. I kneeled on the cement floor and pulled out the man’s short and stubby cock, already hard. It didn’t take long before my efforts were rewarded with a mouthful of salty cum which I swallowed promptly and efficiently. One down, two to go. I gave him a quick hug, and bee-lined it straight for my car. On the road again I noticed that only 48 minutes had passed since the phone call from Lewis, and I was off to a good start. Plus, I now had my pitch story intact which seemed to work well.

  I stopped at another bar shortly thereafter, but I walked out before even ordering a drink. It was too empty. Luckily, in the same plaza I noticed a small Italian restaurant tucked away, around the corner. The only way to get to the restaurant was down a long alleyway, which added to the charm of the place. Unfortunately it too was empty, however as I walked back to my car two men were approaching. Spontaneously I said, “Excuse me, I know this sounds crazy, but…”

  Ten minutes later, I was kneeling in the back of a cube van with a cock in my mouth. The two men worked for the Hydro company; but only one of them had the courage to take advantage of my offer. That was fine by me! The second guy wouldn’t have counted anyway as Lewis made it clear – three different encounters. Two in one spot would have been cheating.

  I felt more relaxed once in the car a
gain. Two hours had now passed. As I got closer to home, the neighborhood was more familiar. There was still plenty of time left, and only one more to go. I found my target in a sports bar where I had stopped for a bite. He was watching a basketball game on the big screen, enjoying a draft, sitting alone. He was momentarily taken aback when I asked to join him, but enthusiastically welcomed me nonetheless. Turns out he was ‘in between jobs’ as they say. That’s when I noticed he did look a big shabby. He admitted the reason for him being there was that he had no TV at home. Home turned out to be a dingy bachelor apartment in a low-rise, not too far away. Like the others, he bought my story, although I’m not even sure I needed a story with this guy.

  His apartment was a mess. Cluttered, and certainly not clean. He sat on the couch while I did my duty. He asked to see my breasts, and I obliged him. I figured if it made him more aroused; why not speed up the process. He wanted to fondle them, but I wouldn’t allow it. I just wanted to get this over with and get on my way. However, to my astonishment, he pulled his cock out of my mouth. He actually had the audacity to bargain with me. Since he was doing me a favor by letting me get revenge on my boyfriend, I should reciprocate by letting him touch me. Rolling my eyes, I agreed. Whatever. I told him he could touch me, but after the blowjob. This way, I had the peace of mind that my mission was accomplished.

  With a fresh load of cum in my stomach, I stood before the guy and let him touch my breasts. He pulled and twisted my nipples, but softly. Of course, he had no idea of the sorts of abuse my breasts had endured at the hands of others, but I certainly wasn’t going to tell him. Then he started feeling between my legs. Oh God. I couldn’t help but gasp when he pressed against my clit, through my pants. He unfastened my button and pulled down the zipper. I considered stopping him, but I had agreed to let him touch me, and I had neglected to specify breasts only.

  When his fingers entered me, I realized how wet I was. I was soaking wet, possibly from the earlier blowjobs, but more likely from the simple fact I was obeying Lewis’ orders. This did not go unnoticed, and I saw the guy smile. He knew his way around a pussy, and two fingers began to tease my clit. Involuntarily I began to hump at his hand, which also did not go unnoticed.