Max and the beauty queen

Max woke to the sound of his blaring alarm clock, but before he could do anything, he felt his mattress shift and the rustling of his silk sheets before the alarm went silent. He smiled as he sat up and stretched, letting the silk sheets fall down his naked body. He looked over to his right, where his alarm clock sat on the nightstand next to his bed. In the dim, pale blue and yellow lighting of the dawning day, he could see Rachel, naked and kneeling by his bedside.

“Good morning, Master. How may I serve you?” she asked in a velvety, seductive purr.

Maxed looked at his alarm clock and weighed his options. “I really should get to work early today, the load coming in from that beauty pageant up in Napa Valley is due this morning, I bet every last one of them is a prize. “Bring me my clothes.”

“Yes, Master,” Rachel said as she rose to her feet and went to the door of Max’s walk-in closet. Hanging on a hook just inside the door was a dark grey suit, with a blue undershirt, black tie, and a black leather belt. On the floor beneath them was a pair of black leather shoes. The obedient **** girl picked up the shoes, making sure to bend over and give her master a tantalizing view of her ass and pussy as she did, then grabbed the hanger, and brought the outfit over to his bed.

“Very good, Rachel,” he said before clipping a leash to her collar and leading her over to one of the rings attached to his bedroom wall. He quickly tethered her leash to it before attaching a green tag to her collar. He then pressed a button on the wall that would summon another **** girl to his room.

Max quickly began dressing, and just as he was buttoning up his undershirt, there was a soft knock at his door before it slowly swung open, revealing Bridget standing on the other side. Her long blonde hair hung down freely and contrasted beautifully with the French Maid uniform she had been dressed in. “Good morning, Master Max. How may I serve you?” she asked with a graceful curtsy.

“Gather Ginger and her things, and take her to the **** pens, please.”

“Of course, Master Max, she said as she began gathering Ginger’s clothing. Once she had them all picked up, she turned to Max, keeping her gaze low. “Master Max, should I gag her and bind her arms?”

“Yes, Bridget,” he answered as he finished getting dressed. He watched as Bridget gracefully curtsied to him again before going over to Rachel.

“Open up,” Bridget said as she held a green ball gag with a black leather strap up to the redhead’s mouth. Without hesitation, Rachel opened her mouth, allowing Bridget to push the rubber ball in and then cinch it into place with the strap, being careful not to capture any of her long red hair in the buckle. “Hands, please.” Again, Rachel did not hesitate. She put her hands behind her back, holding them as straight as she could, allowing Bridget to slip a black leather single glove over her arms and tighten the buckles, forcing her arms uncomfortably together. “Come on, sweetie,” Bridget said once the single glove was in place and she undid Rachel’s leash from the ring on the wall.

“Bridget,” Max said once the pair were nearly to the door of his room.

“Yes, Master Max?” the blonde **** girl asked after both she and Rachel stopped, and turned to face him.

“I’d like you to see to Rachel’s reward personally.”

“As you wish, Master Max,” she replied as they both curtsied to him.

Rachel followed behind her sister-**** as she led her through the mansion, down to the first floor, then down to the **** pens. Bridget led her into a large room that was used almost exclusively for the punishment or rewarding of **** girls. As such, it contained a spanking bench, a Saint Andrew’s Cross, a bondage horse, a bondage table, a whipping post, several devices that were used to bind **** girls in uncomfortable positions, and a long line of stocks that ran almost the entire length of the room. Bridget led her over to one of the stocks and removed Rachel’s leash. As soon as she did, one of the pen mistresses employed by The Condrees came over and placed her in the nearest stock. This particular pen mistress was one that nearly every one of The Condree’s **** girls feared. She was a shorter woman with short dark hair. She was slightly heavy-set with an oddly slender face, a sharp nose, high cheekbones, and dark, cold eyes that seemed to be sunken into her head.

“Ma’am, Master Max wishes for me to give Rachel her reward.”

“Then get to it,” she replied in her typical cold tone.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Bridget replied before kneeling behind Rachel, who, like the obedient **** girl she was, kept her legs spread shoulder-width apart. Bridget leaned forward and began to lick around Rachel’s labia.

Rachel’s anticipation grew as she felt Bridget’s warm breath on her moist folds. Her body tensed, awaiting the first touch of Bridget’s soft lips on her swollen bud. The teasing licks around her labia only heightened her arousal and eagerness for the main event. She bit down on her gag to muffle the moans that wanted to escape her lips. Bridget’s skill at pleasing another woman from decades of experience was obvious as she continued to reward Rachel. Now that her folds were fully wet with her tangy juices, Bridget slipped her soft, warm tongue deep into the redhead’s core and began to wriggle and wiggle it around like a serpent. Within seconds, she focused on her sister-****'s G-spot with laser-guided precision.

“Mmmraah,” Rachel let out a long moan of pleasure as Bridget continued to **** her G-spot with the perfect amount of pressure to give her the most pleasure possible, but not push her over the edge of an orgasm just yet. Rachel tilted her head back as far as the stock would allow, and her eyes rolled back into her head as her legs began to tremble.

“I think the Condrees give that blonde bimbo too much freedom, but she does know how to suck cock and eat pussy,” the pen mistress said as she ran her hand down Rachel’s back. As soon as she felt the other woman’s touch, her body broke out in goose bumps. She wasn’t sure if it was from the woman’s touch or Bridget’s continued oral ****. Bridget continued to lap and slurp up Rachel’s salty essence, her soft, warm, wet, and supremely skilled tongue hitting every spot that made Rachel moan and twitch in pleasure, but kept her from going over the edge. Her breath became fast and ragged, the air moving through her flaring nostrils sounding more and more like the hiss of a snake than the breathing of a woman. Finally, just before teetering on the edge of orgasm became like **** for the other woman, Bridget again grazed Rachel’s G-spot, this time adding the needed pressure and swirl of the tongue to send her crashing over the edge.

“MMMMRRRRAAAAHHH!” the redhead screamed into her gag as her eyes rolled back into her head. Beneath her, she felt Bridget gently seal her lips to her pussy as she drank in her flowing juices. When her orgasm finally subsided, she took slow, deep breaths through her nose as the stock held up her body while several of her muscles twitched in a strange post-orgasmic bliss that she had never felt before.

After being left alone for a few minutes to recover, the pen mistress returned and freed her from the stocks and took her leash in hand. Rachel said nothing as she was led to the dressing room and was placed between the poles with her arms and legs spread out wide. On the floor in front of her, she could see a pair of white open-toed shoes with six-inch stiletto heels. Next to them was a short white satin skirt with white lace trim, a matching half-bra, and sitting on top of them, a white leather collar. Beyond the clothing near the far wall of the room, knelt a pair of serving girls. As always, they were completely naked except for a pair of black stiletto-heeled shoes, the black **** hoods that hid everything about their bald heads, except for their eyes, and the thick, hardened black leather posture collars around their necks that **** them to look straight ahead.

“Get her dressed,” the pen mistress barked and clapped her hands. At the other woman’s command, the serving girls gracefully rose to their feet and began dressing the beautiful redhead.

While Bridget was being dressed, Max eased his car to a stop in his favored spot in the employee parking lot of his uncle’s facility, and smiled as he shut off the car and got out. “I still can’t believe Dad let me get into my trust fund to get this baby,” he thought as he stepped back and admired his dream car. A brand new Ferrari F4000, a new hover hypercar with a body styled heavily modeled after the F40 model that had been produced for five years towards the end of the 20th century.

With a broad smile on his face, he turned and walked to the door of the building before holding up his badge to the eye of the electronic lock. The lock beeped, and Max heard the thunk of the heavy lock as it retracted and allowed him to open the door. He stepped into the lobby and was greeted by a smiling African-American **** girl standing behind the desk in the lobby. Her dark had been styled into an intricate braid that seemed to be held in place with several small pins connected by small gold and silver chains. Around her neck was a light pink leather **** collar that contrasted beautifully with her dark skin. Like his uncle’s other receptionists, she wore a tight-fitting, low-cut, but professional-looking suit jacket and undershirt with the top button placed between her ample breasts. Max knew that she also had been dressed in a short, but still professional-looking skirt, with six-inch black stiletto-heeled shoes. He also knew that she could only turn at the waist, her ankles having been placed in cuffs attached to a metal pole between her legs. Atop the metal pole was a dildo that would slowly fuck and tease the collared woman throughout her shift.

“Good morning, Mister Condreee,” she said with a smile.

“Good morning,” he said with a pause to read the name tag that was pinned over her left breast, “Angelica. Has the truck with the contestants from that beauty pageant arrived yet?”

“Not yet, Sir, but it is due at any moment now.”

“Thank you,” he said with a nod before turning and heading towards the receiving bay.

“My pleasure, Sir, have a wonderful day.”

Max said nothing in reply as he walked away, passing by the break room. As he passed by, he glanced in and saw one of his uncle’s employees tethering the leashes of the day’s selection of **** girls to rings in the wall, and leaving them for the men to use as they pleased. Max entered the empty receiving bay, eager as ever to get the day started.

After a few minutes, Jamal and the other receiving staff began to file into the bay. When Jamal saw Max waiting, his deep laughter filled the air. “Why am I not surprised that Young Blood got here first again?” he asked in his typical jovial tone. Before anything else could be said, a high-pitched ping filled the air.

“Hey boss, truck’s here,” one of their co-workers said with a smile as he and a second man went to the right-most bay door and opened it. When they did, they were greeted by the sight of a hover semi slowly backing up until its trailer was near the bay door. The driver stopped, got out of the truck, walked to the back of the trailer, and opened it. Even though it was dark inside, Max and the others could see the soon-to-be **** girls wriggling in their **** sacks. The driver skillfully backed the truck up to the bay door, and Jamal dropped the clamp in place and turned on the bright work light mounted near the bay door, illuminating the dark trailer. Inside, the beauty pageant’s twenty finalists lay on bunks attached to the trailer’s walls, trapped in black leather **** sacks that were held in place by short chains. The crown given to the pageant winner lay on her **** sack.

Max and the others worked quickly to unload the beautiful cargo. When the job was done, all twenty women stood in a line, still in their **** sacks. Jamal looked over at a Hispanic man named Mateo, a new hire on his first day. “Hey, watch this,” Jamal said as he gave Mateo a gentle nudge, “The kid’s a natural. Hey Young Blood, who’s it going to be?”

Max looked over at Jamal and smiled. “You know, Jamal, this just might be my favorite part,” he answered before walking the line of captured beauties. Each of them looked at him with a mix of fear and hatred, their once perfect makeup now ruined by their tears. As he passed each one, he watched them carefully. Which of them would meet his eye just that split second longer? Which would grunt through her gag at him? Who would give a subtle flair of her nostrils as he passed? That would be the one that would need to be broken. The one that, if they made an example of, if they did, the others would quickly fall in line. “Of course it would be her,” the thought as he stopped in front of the winner, whose crown now lay on the ground in front of her sack. “This one,” he said, pointing at her.

She was a tall woman, standing almost as tall as Max without shoes. She had long, silky black hair that at the moment was still done in an intricate up-do, a natural olive complexion, and bright green eyes. “The beauty queen, of course,” Jamal said with a shrug. “So what’s the plan, Young Blood?”

Max scanned the large receiving bay with his eyes, pausing on each piece of bondage furniture that was available for use in turning a newly arrived woman into an obedient **** girl. His gaze stopped at a chair that sat leaned back and propped up by a frame to steady it, making it impossible for it to tip over backwards or to either side.

“Let’s put the beauty queen on her throne,” he answered, pointing at the chair.

“Alright, let’s get her in, boys,” Jamal said as he walked over to the winner and easily slung her over his shoulder, still in her **** sacks. He carried her over to the chair and held the woman steady as another member of the receiving team unfastened the straps and straps, and lowered the zipper that held the dark-haired beauty in place. When she was freed of her leather prison, she kicked at the men, but they had anticipated this and easily caught her feet before lifting her and setting her down in the chair. Jamal easily held her in place as the other man placed the beauty queen’s wrists in the cuffs attached to the armrests of the chair and her ankles into the cuffs attached to the front legs.

Once she was secured to the chair, Max walked over to a large metal cabinet that was mounted to one of the walls and opened it. He took out a box of latex gloves and put on a pair. He then took out a small red bottle with a black top that covered a drop applicator. “You know, I’ve never used this stuff, but I’ve heard it is extremely painful and effective,” he said as he unscrewed the top and walked over to the dark-haired woman. He held the bottle upside down directly over her right nipple and carefully squeezed out a single drop of clear fluid, doing the same with her left nipple, and then her clit. Within seconds of making contact with her skin, the fluid began to burn, inflicting the worst pain the woman had ever felt.

“AAAHH! AAAHHH! AAAAHHHH!” she screamed into her gag, the bright red rubber ball barely muffling her screams as she jerked her body and pulled at her restraints, **** to escape and find any relief she could from the burning in her nipples and clit. While she did this, Max put the bottle back in the cabinet and carefully threw away the gloves. He then went to a tool chest and opened one of the narrow top drawers, and looked over the selection of leather **** collars that it held. After looking back and forth between the collars and the screaming woman three times, he finally selected a collar made of soft, supple, pale pink leather that would contrast with her skin tone beautifully.

He walked back to her, holding the chosen collar by its buckle in his left hand. He placed his right hand on her forehead, forcing her to look at him and hold her head still. When you want this, nod,” he said, holding the collar up for her to see.

As the beauty queen's eyes watered from the agonizing pain she was in, she gave a few swift and **** shakes of her head, her muffled cries still echoing in the room. Max's expression didn't falter, and he pressed on. "Very well, if that's your choice," he said, dropping the pink collar to the floor with a thud. “The way I hear it, the burning won’t stop until someone puts on the neutralizing solution,” Max said before he walked away to carry over a small table and set it in front of the chair. She placed the collar on the table before going back to the metal cabinet, taking out a white bottle, and placing it on the table next to the collar. “That’s the neutralizer, you’ll get it when you accept your collar,” he explained before turning his attention to Jamal. “Hey, Jamal, I know it’s a bit early in the day, but how about we all take a coffee break while she makes her choice, and these bitches, enjoy the show?” he asked as he motioned to the line of women still standing trapped in their **** sacks, the posture collars forcing them to look straight ahead at the torment the winner had was enduring.

“Sounds like a great idea, Young Blood. Come on, boys, let’s get some coffee and take a look at the girls the boss has put on duty in the break room,” Jamal laughed as he motioned for his team to follow him.

“Think long and hard about that collar,” Max said as he left the receiving area, although he wasn’t sure if the dark-haired woman had heard him over her own cries and screams of agony.

The sound of Max's footsteps faded away, leaving the beauty queen alone in the receiving area with her unbearable pain. She rocked back and forth in the chair, her screams muffled by the ball gag, tears streaming down her cheeks. Not even the humiliation of her nakedness or the dozens of pairs of eyes on her from the other women in their sacks mattered anymore. All she wanted was an end to the searing agony in her most sensitive parts.

After what felt like an eternity, but in reality was just a few long minutes, the beauty queen's will began to crumble. She knew she couldn't take any more of this ****. With a defeated whimper, she jerked her head up and down, hoping that the men would see her surrender and come to her aid.

However, the break room was several yards away, and her silent pleas went unnoticed. The agony continued to build, the pain now spreading throughout her body as she strained against the restraints. Her limited vision blurred with tears; she could just make out the white bottle on the table, taunting her with its promise of relief.

Another minute passed, and the beauty queen's resolve was at its breaking point. With a last-ditch effort, she tried to scream out "Yes! I give up! Please!" into her gag, but her parched throat only managed a hoarse moan.

Finally, Max, who was standing just around the corner, having been listening to the entire exchange, emerged from the shadows. He walked over to the table, picked up the white bottle, and unscrewed the top.

"Do you want me to stop this pain?" he asked, his voice cold but not unkind. The beauty queen's body shook, whether from pain or fear, he couldn't tell. But she managed to nod her head weakly. "Will you accept your collar?" he pressed. The second's silence that followed seemed to last an eternity, but finally, she gave a shaky nod of assent.

Without further ado, Max tilted the bottle over her right nipple and squeezed as soon as the milky fluid in the bottle touched her nipple, the horrid burning instantly came to a stop. She couldn’t help the muffled half-sob, and half-sigh of relief that came as the liquid touched her left nipple, then her clitoris. Once he relieved the burning sensation, Max put the neutralizer back in the cabinet before returning to the small table and taking the pink collar off it. He wrapped it around the beauty queen’s neck and buckled it into place. She let out a shaky breath as she felt the soft foam rubber padding on the inside of the collar hug her neck snugly as Max buckled it in place. She would now spend the rest of her life as a **** girl, obedient to whoever held her leash.

Max said nothing to her as he moved the small table out of the way and replaced it with a metal chair with a black leather seat. He turned it so that it sat sideways between her and the other women. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she realized what was about to happen. She was now going to take her first spanking as a **** girl, and the other finalist in the pageant would witness it before they suffered similar fates.

“You do anything other than what I tell you, and I’ll make that burning solution seem like a picnic,” he said as he began to unfasten her cuffs. He pulled her to her feet and took her over to the chair. He sat and pulled her over his lap so that she faced the line of women. “Look at them, I want them to see your reactions,” he said as he grabbed her hair with his left hand and made her lift her head. He then began to deliver hard swats to her ass with his right hand at a moderate pace. This was not about punishment, but humiliation and acceptance. After a few swats, her olive skin turned steadily darker as her muffled cries and whimpers filled the air..

“Submit for your own good, please submit,” she thought as she looked at the other women, each of whom had fresh tears falling down their faces, further streaking their makeup.

“Up,” Max commanded, and she rose from his lap. He moved the chair a few feet back, then returned to her and moved her so her back was to the other women. “Down, and thank me for turning you into a **** girl,” he ordered as he pulled down his pants, revealing his fully erect cock. Knowing she had ****, the beauty queen lowered herself to her knees and waited for Max to remove her gag. As soon as he did, she took him in her mouth and began to bob her head and hollow out her cheeks.

A few seconds later, Jamal’s deep laughter filled the air. “See, boys, what did I tell you? He’s a natural. He then went to the toolbox and selected a random collar and motioned for his men to do the same. “Alright bitches,” he said, addressing the line of women. “My boys and I are going to hold up a collar and ask you if you want it. If you do, blink twice. If you don’t blink twice, you might just get a chance to sit on the throne yourself.” He moved in front of another of the women, this one a petite redhead with breasts that looked almost too large for her body. He held the collar in front of her. “Do you want this?”

The beauty queen next heard the unmistakable sound of a hand smacking bare flesh and the muffled whimpers and cries of another woman as she suffered the pain and humiliation of her first spanking. Suddenly fearful she may be punished, she **** herself to take the young man deeper into her mouth as she increased her speed and sucked harder each time she pulled her head back. Suddenly, Max’s hand on the back of her head **** her to take all of him as she heard him grunt, and she got her first taste of a man’s salty cum.

“Good girl,” he said with a satisfied grin as he pulled up his pants. He looked over at Mateo, “Hand me a leash, would you?” he asked as he motioned to the selection of leashes that hung on hooks near where he stood. Mateo pulled a black leather leash off of one of the hooks and handed it to Max, who clipped it to the beauty queen's leash. “I’m going to show her to my uncle so he can decide if he wants her, or if he wants to sell her,” he said with a smile. “Up,” he commanded as he gave an upward tug on the leash.