Deeper Penetration: Damien's Dungeon Series - Part 2 Read online

  Deeper Penetration

  “I'm ready for more, sir,” Mary had told Damien after being let down from rope bondage. He'd called her his slave for the first time, and she was happy with that – happier than she had been simply being his sub. She wasn't just ready for more, she wanted more. Unfortunately, as ready as she said she was, as much as she begged for more after that, he kept her in suspense. He’d instructed her to go upstairs, once he was certain she could walk after being kept in the rope bondage for as long as he had her there, and then had followed her up. The door to the basement was shut and locked behind him. She’d fallen on her knees, asked to go back down, begged to be put on the rack… It didn’t matter to her what he did to her, she only knew that she wanted more of it. But he told her no and warned her that she would be punished if she asked again. So she dropped it, stood up with her head bowed submissively, and continued with her usual duties as his submissive. For days her only reminder of her time in the dungeon was the fact that he continued to call her his slave. It was maddening, but she was not in control, so the only thing she could do was wait and continue to follow his orders.

  Her waiting would pay off a week later. Before her shower that morning, he’d ordered her to give herself an enema, make sure that she was freshly shaven, not to dress after she showered, and finally to come meet him in the dungeon when she was finished. Mary could hardly contain her excitement – her breath caught in her throat and she could hardly wait to get ready, practically running to the bathroom to prepare herself. She hated enemas, taking them only because he ordered her to do so, but that morning there was no hesitation at all on her part and even a bit of eagerness as she cleaned her ass out for him. She got into the shower immediately afterward, spending quite a bit of time shaving despite how excited she was – she wanted to make sure she was perfect for her dom and Master. After shaving she quickly washed her hair and body, and then dried off. As he'd ordered, she immediately headed down to the basement door, which she found open. She took a deep breath as her heart raced, her pussy dampening as pent-up desires in her core rose to the surface. Finally, after a couple more deep breaths to steady herself, she began to walk down the stairs. Upon reaching the bottom, she found Damien standing near the rack, dressed in a black robe which he could remove easily.

  “It's about time you got down here, Mary. I know I ordered you to take care of yourself, but I didn't expect it to take you that long,” Damien told her as he motioned for her to come closer.

  “I'm sorry it took me so long, Master – I wanted to be perfect for you,” Mary said as she approached, her head bowed in submission as she did so.

  “Hands folded behind your head and stand with your legs spread, slave,” Damien ordered her, and her arms immediately moved up, hands folded behind her head and she shifted her weight, spreading her legs for him, her head still bowed. He began to inspect her body, running his hands over her armpits and then kneeling down, checking her legs to be sure they were completely smooth as well. She gasped when she felt his hands between her legs, checking not only the area above her slit but her pussy lips as well to be sure they were completely hairless with no stubble. She had to bite her lip to keep from moaning as he touched her, but obviously he could see how wet she was. He stood up as he spoke to her, “I'm glad that you're as smooth as you are – I'd hate to have to punish you on your second time in the dungeon. Lie down on the rack.”

  “Yes Master,” Mary said softly, keeping her head bowed as she moved to lay on the rack. Once she did so, Damien chained her ankles to the bottom of the rack, taking his time. The shackles dug into her skin harshly, causing her to whimper softly. She knew that was just the very beginning of the pain she would be feeling that day – but along with it would come the pleasure. When he'd tied her in the ropes, it was that pain and pleasure together that gave her such intense sensations through her body, like nothing she'd ever felt before. It was why she wanted to be down here, what she wanted to explore. She was ready for more.

  “Do you remember our safe word, my slave?” Damien asked her as he secured the second shackle tightly on her, her legs spread apart and her feet now locked at the bottom corners of the rack.

  “Of course, Master,” Mary replied submissively. She understood that a safe word was necessary, but she was sure she wouldn't need it, even being on a rack that could seriously injure her. Her Master knew her well enough to know how far he could push her. Her breathing became heavier as he took hold of one of her wrists and pulled it over her head, shackling it to one of the loose chains at the top of the rack. It wasn't so tight now, but a wheel at the top of the rack could be turned to tighten the chain and stretch her body. He took her other arm and pulled it up over her head, shackling her wrist to the other chain. His eyes met hers for a moment, seeming to search her gaze to see what she was feeling at that moment. Naturally he would see the fear that she felt, having been shackled to a medieval torture device, but at the same time her eyes were alight with desire. She wanted what she was about to experience, both the pain and the pleasure because both would bring her the sweet release she craved.

  Damien wordlessly stepped out of view. Mary had no indication that her torment was about to begin – he had simply tied her and it was as if he had walked away. It was a full ten minutes before she heard the wheel turning and the soft clicking sound of the chains tightening. Immediately the chains started to tug on her wrists, pulling on her arms. The chains slowly tightened as the shackles dug into her wrists and ankles painfully. She let out a soft whimper but it did nothing to stop him from continuing to turn the wheel. She was soon stretched out as far as she could go naturally. Serious injury could occur if he took it much farther, so he stopped, locking the wheel into place. The position wasn't overly painful but it was quite uncomfortable, and the way the shackles dug into her wrists hurt. But her pussy was growing damper by the minute being locked into place like this. Again it seemed like he left her, much like it felt when she had been suspended – she couldn't move, couldn't really look around so well, and certainly could not see him at all, and he didn't do anything to her.

  For ten more agonizingly slow minutes he allowed the anticipation to grow, making her wait and simply lay there stretched out like that. Then, without warning, he stepped into view with his arm raised. He immediately brought his arm down and she felt pain surge through her left breast over her heart as multiple leather strands of a flogger struck her. It was not her first time being whipped – occasionally he whipped or paddled her ass as punishment when needed. He'd never hit her without warning like that and certainly not while being stretched out on a rack. Her lips parted and she let out a scream, mostly out of surprise at being whipped like that, which she hadn't expected. Perhaps part of how exciting it was for her and how it made her pussy practically leak her juices onto the rack was the surprise. She braced herself for the next blow but it never came – he'd stepped out of view again.

  This time the wait was much shorter, perhaps thirty seconds or so. She saw him briefly step into view, bringing the flogger down on the inside of her right thigh this time. She let out another cry as he whipped her, but this time he didn't stop. With quick flicks of his wrist, he continued hitting the inside of her thigh with the flogger. Her mouth opened as she continued to cry out, though the sensation wasn't entirely painful for her. Though the inside of her thigh was on fire from the repeated strikes, flames of a different kind rose within her core. The fire it stoked there was one of lustful passion – it was genuinely turning her on to be whipped like this. She slowly realized that her cries weren't cries of pain nor of pleasure, but of both. Damien undoubtedly recog
nized that by the time he stopped whipping the inside of her thigh and stepped out of view again.

  It was a minute before the next strike, and Mary didn’t see him but she certainly felt the flogger smack against her left heel. She shrieked in surprise and strained against the shackles holding her in place. She was able to twist her body slightly but that was it considering how stretched out she was. She pulled against the restraints but they held her in place – she found it only made the shackles dig into her skin a bit more and strained her muscles, yet with each strike to her heel she struggled to pull away instinctively. Though her instincts may have been to run from pain, her womanhood grew wetter each time the whip landed on her foot. The blows sent shock waves running through her core. She found her eyes closing with a strange sense of contentment with the strain on her body and the pain he was causing her. She finally opened her eyes after she realized that her foot was no longer being struck, but she still couldn’t see him no matter how much she shifted her gaze. The fact that he was moving in and out of her line of sight and making her wait between strikes was its own turn on in addition to being stretched out like that and whipped.

  Another minute or so and he suddenly stepped into view again, near her thighs. At first she thought they were his next target but she realized very quickly how wrong she was. She could hardly believe it at first as she felt the searing pain of the leather flogger striking her most sensitive area – her womanhood. He brought it down hard on her, and as he did so her entire body bucked and she screamed loudly. But once more it was not just a scream of agony, but also a cry of absolute ecstasy as she felt pleasure surge through her entire body. Just being whipped there nearly brought her to her orgasm as the sensations of being chained, stretched and struck were driving her wild. Damien seemed to see it in her eyes as he raised his hand to strike her again and then stopped as he spoke to her, “I’m giving you nine more lashes to your cunt, my slave – and you do not have permission to cum.”

  The agony of having to hold herself back as he brought the whip down again was nearly too much. Her entire body shook as she fought to keep herself under control. By the fourth or fifth lash Mary was begging him to let her cum, screaming and shaking with unresolved but much needed release. He raised his arm again to strike her, but he stopped and put his arm down, seeming to wait for her to calm down just a bit so he would not push her over the edge. She kept struggling and pulling against the shackles, crying out for him to keep going. She wanted to be hit again, to feel the pain of the whip on her soft, wet pussy. She knew what it did to her, and she knew it could bring her that release if he would just allow it. Her breathing was heavy and lustful, perspiration shining on her skin from her struggles against the shackles, blood dripping from her wrists and ankles onto the rack from being rubbed raw by the cold, rough metal. But this was also possibly the most turned on she had ever been. Suddenly, once he saw that she had calmed down enough, he delivered three quick strikes to her pussy without warning.

  Again she screamed, her entire body tensing up with the oncoming orgasm. Only his voice stopped her, “You do not have permission yet, slave.” Another cry emanated from her lips, this one of frustration. How could he be keeping her from her release like this, bringing her to the edge only to stop her from exploding? But she followed his order and took a deep breath, and then another, managing to pull herself back from the edge, though her juices had leaked onto the rack from the intense whipping he’d given her. It was then when he dropped the whip that she noticed that his robe was gone, and that he was naked as well. He moved onto the rack, laying over her with a lustful look in his eyes as his gaze met hers. He didn’t say anything to her; he merely positioned himself and then slipped his tip into her wet entrance, pausing there for the moment. She could hardly breathe such was the desire filling her heart and her core. Suddenly, without any warning, he slammed into her with a single, hard thrust of his hips, filling her wetness completely.

  Mary’s entire body tensed again – she hadn’t been given permission yet, but he had to know doing that would bring her over the edge. She cried out and threw her head back, her fingers grasping the chains that stretched her body, and her muscular walls clamped down around his cock as her juices flowed freely. She felt him pulling out and then slamming into her again, only making her orgasm that much more mind blowing. She arched her back as much as she could while straining to push her hips up to meet his though it was difficult to do so being stretched out as she was. Over and over he slammed into her, and each time she let out a fresh scream of complete pleasure. His eyes were locked on hers, and she could easily see that he was enjoying this just as much as she was. As he grew closer to his own orgasm, he grabbed her breasts while he took her, pinching her nipples and pulling on them hard, squeezing the entire breast in his hands, even slapping her tits roughly. She continued letting out cries of pleasure and gasping for breath with each thrust and each hard slap or pinch of her breasts, her juices still leaking from her ravaged pussy. Just when she thought she might orgasm again from the stimulation he pulled out and moved on the rack, kneeling down over her. With his knees straddling her chest, his juice-covered hard length was right in her face. She was still gasping for breath and letting out soft moans, trying to calm down after the pleasure of having his cock in her and the way he slapped her tits ceased so suddenly like that. She knew what he would want, but she waited for the order which he did not hesitate to give, “Suck my cock, slave.”

  Mary took a deep breath, doing her best to steady herself before opening her mouth wide and leaning her head forward a bit, taking Damien's cock into her mouth. She could taste her juices on his cock, and lapped them up eagerly, knowing that he had wanted her so badly that he couldn't resist sticking it in her. As she sucked, she ran her tongue along his length, over the underside of it and over the top. It was quite a bit difficult to suck his cock being stretched as she was, but the difficulty she had in moving her head to accommodate him wasn't going to stop her. She swirled her tongue around the head of his cock and he moaned loudly, his hips rocking slightly so his cock moved in and out of her mouth as she sucked. He throbbed within her mouth soon after, and she knew he was close. After being in her pussy like he had been and pounding it that way, it was only natural. She sucked harder, her tongue rapidly moving along the underside of his cock. He let out a loud groan and then cried out her name as his seed spurted into her mouth. She swallowed hard and quickly, taking him deeply into her mouth so she could swallow his cum as it continued to shoot out, her tongue still moving over the underside of his cock. When he finally finished and pulled back, she had a bit of cum dripping out of the side of her mouth but had managed to swallow nearly all of it. He moved off of her and she laid her head back, breathing heavily.

  “Well done, slave,” Damien told her as he caught his breath, on his feet beside the rack and leaning against it. He wasn't nearly as spent as she thought he would be after fucking her and cumming in her mouth, but she was always up for seconds – especially when she was chained and stretched on the rack like this. It was a constant turn on, the pain and discomfort of being stretched, knowing that she was his to use as he liked. Being in his dungeon like this was its own turn on as well. She was ready for him, to use and to torture as he saw fit. Her gaze met his for a moment and, if he had any concerns about her wanting to use the safe word, it was quite the opposite. She wanted more. He paused a moment, “This, like the rope bondage, is just a taste of what goes on in my dungeon, slave. I warned you that there would be deeper penetration... I think it's time for that.”

  Mary's heart raced and her breath caught in her throat as Damien moved to loosen the chains before he unshackled her arms and then her legs. Why was he letting her off the rack? Unless he was planning on putting her into some other compromising position. She found that after being stretched forcibly and held in that position for so long that her limbs didn't want to move. She shakily started to stand, but he grabbed her and half carried, half dragged her ove
r to one of the tables in the dungeon and bent her down over it. She heard his orders to stay there and tried to catch her breath as she felt fresh wetness upon her womanhood. The way he ordered her and grabbed her and moved her as if she was an object down here, simply a slave and not really a person was as much of a turn on for her as the pain and pleasure he brought her in the dungeon was. She rested against the table, bent over it, and did not move, simply waiting for him to return.

  When he walked back over to her he came with four ropes in his hand and laid them on the table beside her. She whimpered as he took one of the ropes and tied her ankle – already sore and raw from the shackles that she'd been in previously – to one of the legs of the table. As he pulled her other leg to the other side of the table, she cried out as it pulled the first restraint even tighter around her ankle. He deftly tied her other leg to the other leg of the table. In that position her legs were spread extremely wide, much wider than shoulder width. Her ass and pussy were on display this way – part of the point of being tied in such a way, she supposed. With two more lengths of rope he wasn't done, however. He moved in front of her and grabbed her right arm, pulling it toward the right leg of the table in front of her. It didn't quite reach, but he tied the rope around her wrist – painfully tight, enough to elicit a scream from her lips, but then anything would feel painfully tight with it still oozing blood from the shackle that had been on it – and then tied the rope around the leg of the table. He repeated the process on her left arm, also causing her to scream when he tied the rope around her wrist. Not only was she completely exposed to him, except for her breasts which were pinned against the rough wood of the table, but she could not see at all what he was going to do to her if he remained behind her.

  His eyes met hers for a moment and he caressed her cheek softly before he moved out of sight, she assumed behind her. Her heart raced as she couldn't hear anything he was doing and the strain of the position was beginning to affect her as she groaned with discomfort and pain from the ropes around her sore wrists and ankles. Suddenly she felt his finger against her ass, rubbing cool, slick lube onto it and then pushing his finger in, a bit of the lube going in with it. She had been wondering when he was going to use her ass, considering how well he'd wanted her to clean it out that morning. Soon enough his finger was out and then she felt something else being pressed against her ass – but not his cock as she'd expected. It was something large, and he was pushing it quite firmly against her. She groaned and then cried out at the discomfort as he started to force it in, uncertain whether it was a butt plug or dildo but it was much larger than anything she'd had in her ass before.