Damsel in Distress for Hire - sample

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Damsel in Distress for Hire - sample

Unread postby jackles » Mon May 04, 2020 9:08 am

The following is a small excerpt from my book 'Damsel in Distress for Hire', which you can find here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086H3VC6Q.

It's partially based on my own experiences as a younger, more foolhardy girl.


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A string quartet played a beautiful rendition of a Beethoven piece in the far corner, and even though Claire was told to look at the marble floor, she could not help but steal glances at the people in the room. Almost all the guests wore some form of mask to cover the upper part of their face, and all were dressed in expensive suits and designer dresses. A few of the women and one of the men were kept on a leash by their partner, but even the collars were made from gold.

Her heart pounded at the beauty of the situation. The walk towards the hanging chains felt intense, suspenseful. She felt like part of an art installation and straightened her back, tried to add elegance to her steps. The beating drum in her chest quickened when she saw what had been laid out on a table near the middle of the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you enjoyed the dinner.” The woman’s voice rang with the confident timbre of a seasoned hostess. “Enjoy the music and the conversation. Should you wish for further entertainment, feel free to sample my master’s collection on this young girl.” She gestured at the dozens of whips, paddles, and floggers on the table. “Have a lovely evening.”

Claire trembled at the sight of the instruments in front of her. She had been whipped before, but some of these looked ferocious. Fear and excitement formed an explosive cocktail in her body, and she could feel the intensity rise as the woman fastened the restraints; first the ankles, leaving Claire’s legs spread wide, then the wrists and finally the collar.

There’s no turning back now, Claire thought. Her back was turned towards the guests – and the whips. All she could do was to stare at the beautiful art on the wall to the dining room she just came from.

She let out a small cough as the woman shortened the chain attached to the collar, leaving it in a position were Claire was constantly choking a bit. Just the way she liked it.

“I’ll make sure they don’t get too rough,” the gentle voice whispered. The warm breath in her ear made Claire’s stretched body shake with lust. “But then again… my own pain tolerance is very high…”

A large, leather blindfold was once again put over Claire’s eyes, completely blocking out even the tiniest ray of light.

More than six hours… what the hell am I doing? she thought as a large silicone ball was forced into her mouth and tightened, with extra straps under her chin and over her head to keep her from pushing it out with her tongue.

Maybe they won’t be too… She did not get to finish the thought before a sharp pain shook her body from the hard whiplash to her back.

She screamed into the gag. Screamed at the darkness every time the whip crackled. Just as she started getting a feel for the timing, another whip started hitting her breasts. But this was not pain as she had felt it before – it was vivid, visceral, powerful. It was as if every hit, every lash, sent signals to the pleasure center in her brain as well as the pain receptors.

It went on for hours, until time lost all meaning. There were pauses in the whippings, periods of gentle strokes and teasing caress of her nipples and skin, but the pain always returned. As the evening progressed, her back, breasts and butt had become raw, sore from the continued abuse, and the discomfort became more intense, less pleasurable. When someone, a giggling woman from the sound if it, started flogging Claire’s vagina, it became too much. Her screams became higher pitched, desperate, and tears started flowing down her cheeks. She pulled at her chains, but no one released her.
Did she want them to? She did not know. She knew nothing at this point.

By the time the hostess bid the last guest goodbye, hours later, Claire was a sobbing mess. The light blinded her when the blindfold was removed, and a long, unflattering string of drool hung from the gag when it was pulled out and added to the wet stain on the floor.

She fell to her knees when the shackles were finally opened and hugged herself while silent tears kept streaming down her face.

The woman kneeled and let the slender arms envelop Claire. It was a genuine, caring embrace. “You were wonderful, remarkable.” She smiled at Claire. “My own record is less than half of what you managed tonight.”

Claire’s body was a chaotic maelstrom of feelings and emotions. She struggled to get a grasp of reality.

“I know it feels intense right now, but I’d love for you to come back.”

Claire nodded. She had no idea what else to do. But she had a feeling she would want to do it again.
I've written a novel partly based on my experiences with bondage and selfbondage. You can find it here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086H3VC6Q
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