Double or Nothing

by T S Fesseln

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© Copyright 2013 - T S Fesseln - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; MF/ff; D/s; bond; cuffs; collar; rope; gag; bdsm; flogger; latex; wrap; toys; insert; captives; tease; torment; mast; sex; climax; cons/nc; XX

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Chapter 11

Janice draped herself around her husband as he flicked on the news. A stupid reality show was just ending and a young girl was complaining about being kicked-off too early. Janice pictured the petite brunette bound and struggling; a gag silencing her whining. Now THAT would be a show. . . call it ‘Predators and Prey’ or something like that. The losers became slaves.

The blonde smiled at the thought.

She hadn’t bothered dressing and was still wearing her polished brass collar and cuffs. The cuffs now looked like thick bracelets now that they weren’t fastened together. She was sure that by the time she and her husband, Ray, retired to the bedroom things would change. For now, however, she was comfortable with being free.

The first story of the night was, of course, the abduction of the Double Barrel Ale twins. Ransom demands hadn’t been made yet and the newscasters feared the worst. The police released a really grainy photo of Ray and herself dressed like officers; probably some security camera footage. Her husband and she looked like millions of other couples nationwide.

“Flattering picture of you,” Ray, her husband, said in his low southern drawl.

“I don’t know. It really isn’t my good side.”

“And what is your good side, my dear?”

Janice wriggled herself against him and whispered in his ear, “We’ll have to go to the bedroom to find out.”

The blonde slipped her hand down between her husband’s legs and felt his cock starting to harden. She grasped the tab of his jeans’ zipper and zipped it open. Reaching in, she pulled his underwear aside and began to stroke his engorged cock.

“I hope you saved a little bit of yourself for me,” Janice purred.

“Always save the best for last,” he replied, turning off the television with the remote.

Janice straddled her husband, facing him so that she was looking deeply into his blue-grey eyes as she continued to stroke his member. Even though the sex on the dinner table was great, she was hungry for more. The remainder of the salve he massaged into her was still causing her sex to itch wantonly.

“Does slave please her Master?”

“Yes she does,” Ray said, closing his eyes, leaning back and enjoying her touch.

Ray’s blonde-haired wife gently masturbated him, making sure she didn’t make him cum. She knew all of his little signs: the little growl in the back of his throat, his hands gripping her more tightly and his whole body seeming as rigid as a steel beam. And he nearly always closed his eyes.

Janice also knew not to tease him too much.

She maneuvered herself forward and eased his cock into herself; lowering herself onto him until he was fully inside of her before she started rocking her hips. For Janice, there was no substitute for having Ray’s manhood inside of her; the heated feeling of his flesh against hers. It was feeling no vibrator could match.

Her husband began to match her rhythm. His warm hands grasped her hips as she rocked and moaned. The desire within her was also building; the tinder starting to catch into flame as she pumped faster and faster.

Suddenly, he grabbed Janice to himself and shoved her back into the couch. Grabbing her wrists, he forced them above her head as he drove forcibly into her again and again. Her hot, churning need thrashing inside her as he violently rammed into her. She moaned deeply as she clamped her teeth into his neck. She needed a ball gag; something she could really bite into. . .

Ray pushed himself deeply inside of her as he let out a guttural growl. Janice felt him spray into her as her wanton craving crested inside of her in a molten wave of pure bliss. She continued to buck and writhe beneath him, riding their pleasure until she felt him withdraw and ease himself down beside her.

They laid there for a while, cradled in their own private thoughts. Janice’s fingertips brushed over the hair on his chest as she listened to him breathe.

“Did slave please her master?” she asked, looking for the answer in his eyes.

“No,” he replied.

Janice was taken aback, “Master?”

Ray looked at his wife sternly, “Slave, you came without permission.”

Janice looked down, avoiding his eyes.

“You will have to be punished. Stand.”

The blonde woman uncurled herself from around her husband and stood up beside the couch nervously. She continued to look down. She knew her Master was right. He hadn’t given her permission to orgasm. Perhaps deep down inside she really wanted to be bound and punished and to be the sole focus of his attentions.


Ray watched as his wife gracefully obeyed his order. She had read and lived Dr. Brand’s book ‘The Care and Treatment of Particularly Fair Women’ and voluntarily adhered to its doctrine. She knew its every command and had actually competed from time to time in Magenta’s annual competition where Masters and Mistresses could display their trained slaves. She had even placed once. Janice’s every movement showed her prowess in learning her subservience.


Janice did as she was told. Ray admired his wife’s figure. She was almost as tall as Ray and had slender, elegant curves. Her legs were long and well-toned. Her hips flared nicely, narrowing into a trim waistline whose tone had not diminished with her age. Her breasts were not large but graced her figure beautifully. Each nipple was pointed and fully erect, needing his touch. Her skin glistened from their shared efforts.

His wife presented her crossed wrists to him.

The brass cuff on each wrist gleamed as Ray found the catch in each one. With a slight click, the hasps opened. These were a present from Magenta, antiques from the original school where Dr. Brand taught slaves in Victorian England. They were as priceless as his wife. There was no key, only a combination that Ray was the sole possessor of. Ray suspected his wife might know it, but she never let on that she did.

Ray linked the hasps together and clicked them shut, trapping Janice’s hands in front of her. Her ankle cuffs were designed the same way. He locked them together as well. Janice never looked up, her blonde hair falling down over her face.

Ray got up and found Janice’s lead. Though her brass collar was the same vintage as her cuffs, the chain was something Ray had bought to match them. He clicked the leash’s catch onto her collar and gave it a slight tug. She followed, hopping along beside him towards the third bedroom of the house, the one they kept for themselves.

Once in the bedroom, Ray dropped the lead and went to their personal toy chest where he found Janice’s black leather panel gag. The gag itself was pear-shaped and once past her teeth, would fill her mouth completely. There were several small air holes through it which would allow its wearer to breathe easily while still muffling any protests.

Ray put two fingers under her chin and gently raised her head. Her green eyes still avoided his as he looked into her face.

“Look at me, slave.”

Slowly her eyes met his.


The blonde woman opened her mouth and Ray gently pushed the gag past her teeth until it was fully seated inside her mouth and pressing her tongue down. Carefully, he buckled each of the three straps tightly until he was satisfied that she wouldn’t be able to expel it without help.

He picked up her brass chain leash again and led her to her side of their brass bed. Without a word, she sat down and swung her legs up, struggling into a kneeling position for him. Ray sat down before her, brushed the stray curls from her face and kissed his wife on the forehead. Cradling her in his arms, he laid her back and pulled her wrists above her head towards the brass rail of the headboard and the ropes already tied there. He cinched the rope around the chain links of her cuffs, tying them off tightly so her fingers couldn’t reach the knots.

Ray uncurled his wife’s long legs out from beneath her and pulled them towards the brass rails at the end of the bed where he tied her ankle cuffs the same way he had done her wrist cuffs.

Janice was as taut as a bowstring when Ray had finished. The cuffs bit into her wrist and ankles a bit but not uncomfortably so. She watched her Master take a few of the pillows and push them beneath her hips, arching her backward and exposing much more of her pleasure swollen vagina.

Her green eyes followed Ray as he went back to their chest. He eyes widened as she saw what was in his hand: his flogger.

Ray had several floggers, but this one was his favorite and he only used it on his wife. It had a black handle carved in the shape of an Asp and it many tails were of darkened deerskin and soft to the touch.

He dangled the tails over her, slowly brushing them over her legs and shaven puss to the flat of her stomach. The leather teased at her breasts and Janice thought she could feel each tail as it licked at her skin. Slowly, back and forth, he caressed her whole form.

“Now, my lovely slave, I hope this will help you remember your station,” Ray said in his low, southern drawl.

Ray set down the whip and picked up one of the bottles of lotion on their dresser.

The red bottle.

Janice moaned her protests as she shook her head no. The red bottle was a much more potent salve then they usually used. It would cause her puss to burn like a furnace and only a cooling gel would douse the feeling. They only used it on rare occasions and Ray had only used it once before on her and that was to teach her the importance of patience in a slave.

Her Master put on a pair of surgical gloves and dolloped a small bit of the lotion onto his fingers. As Janice writhed in her restraints, he gently spread her sex open and rubbed the gel up and down her slit and over her swollen clit.

The lotions affected Janice instantaneously.

The burning itch in her puss made her buck and twist. She cried into her gag, pleading as much as she could. Ray smiled down at his wife and rubbed the remainder into each nipple, eliciting more protests.

Pure bestial lust raged through her; her libido running rampant. Janice almost didn’t feel the first kiss of Ray’s flogger as the tails splayed over her hips.

What was not flaming with desire was burning with the stings of the flail. Ray crisscrossed her form until almost all of her body glowed red. Janice wailed and writhed, not opening her eyes until he had stopped.

Janice looked up at him as he smiled his serpent’s smile.

“Now I am going to leave you with your thoughts awhile, my love. Try not to make too much of a fuss.”

With that, Ray left.


Amanda awoke with a scream caught in her throat. She was frozen in a sinkhole black fear until she tried to break free from its dripping talons. She bucked and twisted, unable to move her arms and legs until she realized where she was and what had been done to her.

The young blonde had been almost entirely mummified. Her arms were anchored behind her and all of her was encased in some sort of stretchy latex bandaging; all of her except her breasts and the clips clamped to them.

The vibrator that was violating her sex was now as dead as the plug pushed inside her anus. With every little movement she made, the two devices made their selves known. Thankfully, the effects of the gel they had rubbed into her pussy had worn off, leaving only a slight soreness.

Mandy scooted around a bit, trying to get comfortable, but her restraints kept interfering. She bumped into her bound twin sister a couple of times and listened for a response. All she could hear was a slight snoring.

No matter how she tried to relax and get some sleep, she couldn’t. The horror of her and her sister’s situation kept stabbing at her thoughts. First and foremost was what was to become of them.

The shock of the capture had ebbed away as well as the first ‘acts’ committed upon them. They all seemed like a grey blur. Tidbits surfaced, like the smell of the man’s cum, but most lingered in the dark, unseen corners of her mind.

What was to become of them?! She prayed that it wasn’t what she deeply feared.



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