The Court

Emma entered a room so bright that she could only make out the shapes of people wearing sunglasses looking at her. Honey strapped her to a rack that locked her hands in handcuffs. Her spread ankles were similarly immobilized. Her head could only see the floor. The feet of those milling around her were bare, some bare, others shod.

• Has she ever been whipped? a man's voice asked.

Mistress Adeline's voice rose.

• No, according to her file, not even a spanking, Slavia, tell us.

Emma didn't react, a slap on her buttocks reminded her that that was now her first name in this place. She thought of a new role, she knew how to do that.

• Sorry, Mistress, no, never, nothing at all.
• If you whip or mistreat her, you'll have to hit the marks because, unaccustomed to it, she'll cry and try to avoid it, to deceive her tormentor.

Emma shuddered at his words, yet she felt her excitement rising. A man's hand rested on her buttocks, moving up her curves, to her breasts, tickling them so skillfully that she began to moan deliciously.

• She's sensitive, that's good; she'll be even more sensitive to punishment.

"Very sensitive, indeed," murmured another voice, masculine and raspy, while the fingers probing her breasts lingered on the hardened tips, pinching them lightly. Slavia held back a cry, her fingers tightening against the cold handcuffs. A hot breath brushed the back of her neck, then a riding crop slid down her spine, tracing a burning line between her shoulder blades.

• How many times have you had sex?
• About twenty, I'm not sure.

A blow from the riding crop struck her thigh. She moaned. The pain was vicious and cruel. The master knew where it hurt.

• When you speak to a superior, call the master or mistress, "Master."
• Sorry, master.

A servant unzipped the master's pants, and he presented himself in front of Emma's exposed sex. He rubbed his head against Emma's intimate lips. She was quickly moaning.

She wanted him inside her so badly, but he made the pleasure last. He controlled his urges perfectly. He could have withdrawn and left her panting, unfulfilled, but in the end, he slowly penetrated her, driving her mad with anticipation of receiving him completely.

• You're here for my pleasure, female dog, not yours, he spat at her, his raspy voice full of contempt.

Emma now moaned as he pushed deeper, every inch exquisite ****. Her hips instinctively lifted, seeking more, but a brutal hand pinned her against the rack.

"Move again, and I'll leave you here, wet and full of nothing," the master growled, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips, reaching the bottom. Emma had to bite her lip to keep from moaning.

• She's tight, we'll have to fix that; it's a rigid sheath. For her, that will require increasing the intensity and the number of lovers, because it's not very pleasant.

He began to move in and out roughly, paying little attention to Emma's pleasure.

The master accelerated his movement, each brutal thrust drawing broken gasps from Slavia. Her nails scratched the wood of the easel, her muscles contracting under the ****. He unloaded inside her without giving her time to come, while another, a monstrously hung black man, took over just as brutally, without trying to derive his pleasure.

The first judge asked Mistress

• And anally?
• No, anal virgin.
• Well, it will be a delight to initiate her.

Mistress nodded as the black lover took Emma apart, the easel shaking violently under the ****. Emma, who had always fantasized about an ebony cock, was completely overwhelmed by the penetrations; she was moaning.

The black judge was amused by her reactions.

• his little slut likes it. She'll have to be gangbanged with other black men; she'll have an unforgettable time.

Mistress pouted.

• She's not here to please herself, but why not as a reward?

The black member sank deeper, each brutal thrust eliciting a hoarse moan from Slavia, her stomach burning with the relentless rhythm. When he felt she was about to come, he withdrew, leaving her frustrated, and presented himself before her mouth.

• You're here for my pleasure, suck and show me how you give a blowjob.

Emma, frustrated, stuck out her tongue and began licking the black head, along the shaft, the balls, she applied herself.

• Um, fine, but I said a blowjob, not a lollipop. Open your mouth as he brought his hand down on her buttocks.

For several minutes she was shamelessly screwed like this, her throat hurt when finally the sperm flowed out, almost **** her. It took her several seconds to swallow it all.

A female voice spoke up,

• Have you ever been fisted, Slavia?

Emma shook her head.

• No, Mistress, I'm afraid of that.

The Mistress who had spoken replied with a satisfied air.

Fine, I'll take care of ridding you and making you enjoy it, but if I can't, I'll take pleasure in making you suffer. Can she be pierced or branded as a ****?

Mistress Adeline pouted.

No, she mustn't have any marks that interfere with her roles.

The other Mistress was disappointed.

• We'll look for a method for her to experience these sensations. Piercing can go unnoticed if done properly. I have an idea for the other one.

Emma shuddered with a real, visceral fear, and yet she was wet from being treated like a thing, an object. She was examined from every angle, brutalized, penetrated many times. She felt as if her vagina was becoming a train station hall. Often, it was a penetration in order to gauge her, to determine a technical point.