Amanda's Seventh Slave

I had never before spoken of such things in the presence of a prospective slave, but Jason just knelt there with eyes cast down, trembling, in fear no doubt, but his dripping erection told the tale. He was surely a natural. But his quick and complete enthrallment also told me Marva was a powerful and natural dominant. Sadly, she had missed out on many good years, but I resolved to help her make up for lost time.

Marva moved in with me and Jason began his training period. I shared my slaves freely with Marva, including Shawn and she returned the favor for me with Jason. We would often enjoy rimming practice together. Both tongues were developing nicely and keeping pace with each other considering Jason's natural head start. We had them trade places at intervals, so we could give each other objective evaluations of their progress. Marva and I bonded deeply.

Marva had to deal with Janson's "disappearance" at work. It always takes some time for Greta to fabricate a scenario, so Marva feigned anxiety and bewilderment in the meantime. She claimed to be too upset to work on the investigation and managed to get herself transferred from missing persons to sex crimes, where she would prove invaluable in seeing to it that rapists and abusers never escaped the Network's justice. Those who thought they had gotten off Scot free and left the courtroom laughing soon found themselves in the chamber, naked, bound, helpless at the mercy of their erstwhile victims.

Summer passed, and September came, bringing cooler weather, especially in the dense forests to the north. It was the advent of hunting season, both for the male world and for the women of the Network, though the Network's "game" was of a very unique kind. I was sure Marva would take great joy and satisfaction in her first "man hunt."

The Network has a vast forest preserve up where the woods are wild. It is ten miles on a side and bounded by a high electrified fence. Deep in its center is a luxurious hunting lodge staffed by strong young aspiring Mistresses who serve a slave keepers and jailers and supervise the eunuchs who do the menial tasks in the building and on the grounds. There is a dungeon filled with slaves for the pleasure of the huntresses. On the grounds is a cell block, a single-story stone building with cells for thirty deserving rapists and woman abusers. They are brought in from far and wide for the hunting season and they are the "game" the huntresses pursue. It is a special delight to make cruel sport of these reprobates. It is all quite expensive to maintain and the fee for a hunt is high so only Mistresses who have acquired significant wealth participate. I am one of those and was happy to pay Marva's way.

The hunt would start with a cruel trick played on the game beasts. On the eve of the hunt the jailers would appear to have carelessly left several of the beast's cell doors unlocked, affording them a chance to escape into the surrounding forest. The beasts have been informed that the procedure awaits them, and they are desperate to flee. But each beast has a tiny GPS tracker implanted in his behind, unbeknown to him.

At dawn the hunt begins. The weapon employed is an air powered rifle that shoots small, plastic shot-filled "beanbags" at high velocity. The pain of impact is severe and strikes terror into the heart of the beast. The object of the hunt is to make the final "nut shot" that will bring the beast to earth in dire pain, unable to rise. The first huntress to lead her game back to the lodge by a leash on the balls wins the hunt and a trophy. I have seven such in a case in my den. I took Marva to the practice range the day before the hunt, but I found that to be unnecessary. Her police training had made her a crack shot.

Five game beasts had been released the night before the hunt and five huntresses pursued them at dawn, Marva and I among them. All of us were naked save for lug soled hiking boots and a belt from which hung needed items, handcuffs, leashes for the balls, ammunition and a stun gun in case the beast attacks. And, more than one charging beast has been brought down with a skillful nut shot. I have done it myself twice. But, being bullies, most of the beasts are also cowards who prey upon the weak. Strong women strike terror into their hearts and attacks are less common than one might think. The beasts run like scared bunnies most of the time.

Our smart phones had apps on them that allowed us to track the beasts. Each beast would show on the screens as a different colored dot, one assigned to each huntress. Mine was red and Marva's was orange. We also wore head cameras to record the hunt.

Our quarries would, of course, wander off into the dense dark forest and get lost. There is a maze of trails, none of them going anywhere in particular. It's difficult to get the proper angle for a nut shot and the guns are only accurate to about thirty yards so stalking skills are needed. Usually, the first shots are meant to drive the beasts from cover and make them flee in pain and terror, knowing they are now the hunted. The beast will run howling and panting through the woods from a stinging shot to the behind and then find a place to hide. But the trackers are infallible and inevitably another shot strikes them, and they will see the huntress who pursues them. Sooner or later the beast will stand bewildered, turning about, not knowing which way to run and that presents the opportunity for the nut shot. Fine markswomanship is still needed and misses are common, making further pursuit necessary.

My quarry was a lean, fast runner with good endurance. He led me on a merry chase through the woods, going from hiding place to hiding place. Often, I would land a shot and he would see me standing with a cruel gleam in my eyes as I reloaded the rifle. He would flee and sometimes I would catch him on the run with a shot to his ass cheek. But, eventually, exhaustion and confusion set in and he stood stupidly in the middle of a small grassy clearing, looking frantically about, wondering where the next shot might come from. I stalked up behind a fallen log, laid on the ground and rested the rifle on it, waiting for him to turn toward me. He spun around, facing me, but I was well hidden, and his balls hung exposed. My shot was unerring, and he doubled over and hit the ground, curled in a fetal position. I leaped from cover and quickly cuffed his hands behind his back.

He was broken and defeated by then and in the proper mood to submit. I rolled him on his back and mounted his head, facing his feet, grabbed him by his sore and bruised balls and twisted, while demanding oral pleasure. My shriek of animal ecstasy echoed through the silent forest. Then I bound his balls in a tight figure 8 with the leather leash and set off back to the lodge at a brisk walk, guided by my GPS.

I yanked the scumbag none to kindly to make him keep up. The leash tightened with each yank and his balls turned a lovely purple. As I went along I heard cries of male pain and female pleasure in the distance and I wondered if anyone would beat me to the finish. When I arrived, I saw Marva standing over her vanquished game beast, a big thuggish skinhead biker type with lots of tattoos. He lay on his belly and she had her foot on his back, rifle raised high, posing for photos. I don't like to lose but I must say, if I had to, I was glad to lose to my new friend and protégé. I was so proud of her.

One by one the beasts were dragged in. Twenty Mistresses were at the lodge at the time to participate in hunts. They all turned out to watch the brutes get their comeuppance. Photos were taken and posted on the Network website. Then all of the huntresses strapped on big, studded woman cocks and their beasts got the ass rape they so richly deserved. Finally, they were subjected to the procedure at the hands of their captors.

Dinner was served afterward, a sumptuous affair with plenty of wine and spirits. The women were randy from witnessing the fate of the beasts and the slaves were rousted from their cells and brought out to serve us. Quite the orgy followed.

When Marva and I had satisfied ourselves, we retired to a quiet corner where some arm chairs were set around a big screen TV to talk over more wine and watch the videos of each other's hunts. I showed mine first It was quite a routine hunt for me but satisfying nevertheless. Marva's hunt was a bit more exciting, especially being her first and she had acquitted herself admirably. She narrated as we watched.

"Here I am first sighting the beast crouching in a thicket. I picked up a rock I found and tossed it off to my right. The beast heard it hit the ground and stood up straight to look around. I landed my first shot. He yelps in pain and looks around frantically. But I stayed out of sight. Then he runs for it. I follow until he stops again, and I nail him square on the left ass cheek. He howls and looks around again in a rage, then takes off running again. I catch him with another shot on the backside just before I lose sight of him. This went on for about four or five more shots. I never let him see me, but I could see his rage and fear building at the same time. And he's a bit chubby and not in great shape, so he was exhausting himself too. Here, I came up on him leaning against a tree and gasping for breath. I decided to show myself and taunt him, saying "having a nice walk in the woods fat boy?"

"He was about fifty yards away on a trail. He turned and saw me, and I noticed his big swastika tattoos. The blind rage on his face when he realized it was a black woman doing this to him was scary. He charged. His eyes were bugging out, his face was purple, and he foamed at the mouth. I tried for a nut shot when he got to within about 30 yards but missed high. It seemed to take the wind out of him a bit and he slowed enough for me to reload. I took careful aim and waited until he was about 10 yards from me before my next shot. It was risky, but I caught him square and he crashed to the ground, cradling him balls in his hands and curling up. I ran to him, used the stun gun for good measure and cuffed him, then put an extra tight tie around his aching nuts and hauled him in."

Marva was glowing and euphoric.

"Amanda! What a feeling! Such a sense of empowerment. I just feel a strength I never imagined I could have!"

"It's from the hunt, the just and righteous rape and, most of all, performing the procedure Marla. In one brief moment you transformed that male from a lustful brute to a docile beast of burden. I'll never forget my first, although I must say the feeling is the same every time I do it. This is just one of several "first times" you will experience as we go along and each one will be unforgettable. You are a natural dominant. It's too bad you spent all those years of frustration before discovering your true self, but I will do all I can to help you catch up."

The days and weeks following passed delightfully and Marva and I trained our young slaves together. It's always sweet to feel a new slave's tongue growing in length and strength and know he is practicing his yoga diligently out of love for his Mistress. We shared those tongues with each other every day, either singly or taking turns enjoying both at once.

And every evening I brought four slaves out from their cells and the woman cocks reigned. Marva needed to become an experienced and confident cockswoman so when the time came to deflower Jason she would drive the shaft home with authority.

Every morning the slaves were tested by having them reach with their tongues for the marks tattooed on their noses. Jason's natural head start enabled him to keep pace with Shawn's growth. One fine day they both passed the test. Marva and I had grown so close by then we decided on a double deflowering ceremony. We sent out invitations for a week from the next Saturday.

But first, our virgin slaves had to be introduced to the woman cock, a sight they had yet to see. One evening we blindfolded them when we fetched them from their cells and made them grovel behind us to the living room and made then kneel in the center of the rug. We removed their chastity cages, donned cocks and stood before them shoulder to shoulder, then told them to remove the blindfolds.

There is nothing quite like the look on a new slave's face when he see's his Mistress standing proud and naked with her big dick jutting from her hairy loins. The mock organs are so lifelike it looks like the Mistress was born with them. Both slaves turned pale in fear and confusion at first, but their erections also rose in a telltale way. They couldn't help knowing in some vague way what was to happen and there was a glimmer of longing in the way they stared.

A deepthroat fellatio is the required prelude to a slave's deflowering and much practice is necessary. The slave must learn to take it full down the throat at the first offering of the cock as his Mistress stands with hands on hips, her cock pulsing and vibrating. He must then bring her to orgasm through his own skills and efforts. The cocks are large, ten inches with flared glans, quite a challenge. A Mistress must be patient, yet relentless.

I ordered Shawn to come and suck me and Marva followed suit with Jason. Both slaves were tentative at first but we both gave them words of encouragement and instruction and soon they were licking and sucking in a worshipful way, eager to please us. I hit the switch that set off the vibrations, as did Marva and I could then feel the caresses of Shawn's tongue and lips upon my cock as pulsing waves of delight.

I became more forceful with him, placing my hand behind his head and pressing the glans against his gullet. He gagged and choked at first, but I could tell he knew what I wanted and was trying. Long experience told me to go slowly and I counseled Marva to do the same. I could see Jason was also giving his all to please her but was struggling as well.

There was nothing to do but press on and before long I felt some give in Shawn's gullet. I told him how to lower his tongue at its base to enlarge his throat and when I thrust my hips forward the glans slipped past the narrow portal and the shaft slid half way down. Another thrust sent it to three quarters depth and with the third Shawn's nose was buried in my bush. I held him that way and looked to check Marva's progress, gave some helpful hints and soon Jason's nose was pressed into the nappy thicket. We exchanged a high five.

We withdrew our cocks in unison and there was a pleasing pop from each throat as the glans pulled out. Then it was back down the gullet, much more easily this time. Back and forth we went, guiding the slaves with hands gripping their hair until the cocks slid in and out with ease. The waves of pleasure from caresses of lips and tongues and the tight clutch of the gullets were edging both of us toward the brink. But the final test lay ahead. I released my grip on Shawn's hair and put my hands on my hips. He seemed to sense it was now his duty to satisfy me on his own. He threw himself into his duty with a worshipful passion I had never before known from a novice slave. Marva had also assumed the same posture by then and Jason was showering her cock with adoration and taking it down full length without the slightest reluctance.

I barked a command that they pick up the pace and each slave took hold of the hips of his Mistress and worked his head back and forth with force and abandon. I felt the welling up of orgasm and reached out to lay my arm across Marva's shoulders. She responded in kind and we linked arms just as we both passed into the throes. Our knees went all rubbery and collapse to the floor seemed imminent but our slaves held us close around the hips with the cocks full down, supporting us as sweet climax rocked our worlds.

Our slaves were as ready as could be for deflowering. They had been deprived of release for over a week and had been clamped in their devices when in their cells. I had deflowered numerous slaves, but never before had felt such anticipation. I knew Shawn was to be a rare and special slave. His oral attentions were so worshipful and brought me to orgasms the like of which I had never known with other slaves. And my samplings of Jason's tongue work told me Marva was to be similarly blessed.

Saturday came. Marva and I had refrained from pleasures since Thursday night to make sure we were well horned up for the occasion. I had invited forty Mistresses, the entire membership of the local Network chapter. Food and drink were laid out in abundance in the chamber and it would be eunuch 3's duty to serve and replenish.

Guests began to arrive at 8 PM though the deflowering would take place at midnight. There were preliminaries, the most important of which was each slave introducing himself to each Mistress by giving her oral pleasure. A throne chair was set by the chamber door and Jason was stationed there on his knees and ready to serve each Mistress as she arrived. Eunuch 3 would take her coat and hang it on a peg. All Mistresses were in varying stages of nudity beneath their coats, some animal naked, some in lingerie, others in leather corsets or crotchless leather body suits that also exposed the breasts. Every pussy was exposed and ready to be served. Marva and I chose complete nudity.

Later, it would be Shawn's turn to give pleasure to each Mistress in order of arrival. By the time each Mistress was ready for her second turn she would be horny again and primed for more orgasms.

It was also Marva's chance to meet her kindred spirits. She was welcomed with open arms. We mingled and socialized, though my heart was pounding in anticipation and I could tell by the way Marva's hands strayed to her pussy that she was in similar straits. By ten o'clock or so it was Shawn's turn to begin his round of cunnilingus. Both slaves had been given firm instruction to give ample attention to the anus as well. I was nervous because it was so important that Shawn acquit himself well. Jason had performed admirably if the mad cries of ecstasy coming from the Mistresses and the compliments showered on Marva were anything to go by. I watched anxiously from a distance as Shawn did his duty.

First in line for Shawn was mistress Erica, a tall and statuesque blond. He buried his face deep in her golden-haired snatch and I saw her rock her hips to urge him to go down to her anus first. She shuddered in delight and I knew Shawn had plunged his tongue to her depths and was wriggling it about within her. She grabbed his hair with both hands and held him there for minutes on end, giving out panting moans of pleasure. When she could bear no more she pulled him up to her pussy and could tell he slipped his tongue way up her vagina to caress her G. Then, he slipped a finger up her ass and gently finger fucked her while rubbing his nose on her clit. She came, writhing convulsively and giving out a primal shriek that made everyone turn to look. But Shawn wasn't finished. He quickly shifted his tongue to her clit and did the flutter, starting a chain of half a dozen more shattering orgasms that left her limp and unconscious for several minutes.

The next in line was Bessie, a large and heavy black woman. She settled into the chair, raised her legs, parted them and used her fingers to spread her black outer lips, exposing her pink lush tissues. Shawn led with his long tongue, plunging into her vagina. She released her hold on her labia and closed her legs on his head, engulfing it in her big wet cunt and hefty, squashy thighs. I had seen her do this move many times and Shawn must have gotten the message that he would not be allowed to breathe until he had satisfied her.

Bessie kept him in her smothering grip for a good minute, squirming about as her arousal mounted under his tongue. Suddenly, she shuddered, gave out a lusty grunt of pleasure and satisfaction, then relaxed, though her legs remained clenched on Shawn's head. He thrashed involuntarily, and I could tell his breath had given out. I had to restrain myself from intervening. It would have been rude to interrupt another Mistress's pleasure.