The Chateau

by Budman

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2023 - Budman - Used by permission

Storycodes: F+M+/f; mpov; outdoors; objectify; punishment; cuffs; chain; tease; strapon; tickle; clothespins; trick; cons; XX

Continues from

Author’s Note: As with most of my stories, you will get very lost if you don’t read this story from . I encourage you to go back and take the chapters in order if you aren’t already.

Chapter 18 – Bugs

When the slut finished weeding and picking bugs off all 12 rows of the garden, Paula, much to the slut’s surprise, just said, “I’ll check your work later. You may crawl to the shade of that tree if you want, take your water bottle with you,” she added.

About 3 pm, Paula went back out and first examined the bag of bugs that the slut had picked very carefully. “Very good slut, not a single good bug in the bag.” Then Paula emptied the bag of dead bugs on the ground and started slowly going down each of the 12 rows. She just kept finding bugs and putting them in the bag. First one, then two, then another one. The slut was watching her every move and getting more and more nervous with every minute. After just three rows, two of tomatoes and one of squash, Paula stopped and brought the bag over to the slut. “Count them!” was all she said, then she went back into the kitchen.

When Paula came out of the kitchen, she was carrying a cleaned-out glass jar with holes poked in its lid and an oven mitt. She stopped to pick a few ‘sucker’ leaves off the tomato plants and put them in the jar.

“How many bugs did I find, slut?” Paula asked Heather.

“20 ma’am.” The slut said with obvious dread.
“So that makes 25 demerits this week,” Paula continued, “Do you think that’s fair, or should I go check the other 8 rows?”

“Oh, ma’am, I’m so sorry, I tried to do a good job. Please let me finish those rows,” Heather begged.

Despite trying to hold her ankles very still and move her block carefully, Heather’s ankles were showing the effects of the rough cement edges. She had been in that block for about five hours. “No slut, you just sit there and think about how miserably you’ve failed and how much you’re going to pay at tonight’s trial,” Paula answered.

Without saying anything further, Paula marched over to the edge of the woods, put on the oven mitt, and started looking at the bark of every tree. Every once in a while, she would pick something off the trunk or leaf of a tree with the oven mitt. When she had about a dozen crawling around in the jar, she brought them over to show the slut. “Look what I found!” Paula said. “They’re the pretty ones with the yellow ring just behind the head. Those are the ones that sting so badly, aren’t they? Sure glad I used this mitt.”

Heather just nodded with a terrified look on her face.

I had been watching this whole scene through the kitchen window. When Paula brought the jar into the kitchen I asked, “I know she’s been stung by one of those before, so I assume she doesn’t have a dangerous reaction to them, but she does have a pretty violent local skin reaction. How many of those do you think are safe?” I said looking at a jar full of nasty, wooly, bugs.

“Oh, I don’t intend to put these on her. You’re right, that wouldn’t be responsible. I’m going to kill these bastards then go out front and pick some off the roses. Those caterpillars don’t have a yellow stripe like these do, but at night, by fire light, she’s not going to be able to tell I swapped them out," Paula laughed.

“God, I love a good mind fuck! You, Paula, are a devious woman,” I replied.

As she was headed to the roses, Paula passed Mal coming in carrying a sledgehammer, rebar, and chain. “Got the key to her cuffs?” he asked. I decided to help Mal in the backyard and took the keys from Paula, this should be fun.

I’m sure the slut was still processing the implications of a jar full of stinging caterpillars when she saw Mal coming across the yard with a hammer, these iron things and chain. She trusted us, but she had to be starting to worry about tonight.

“We’ve got a job for you, slut,” Mal said as I unlocked Heather’s cuffs, removed her legs from the block and locked the cuffs back on.

Heather’s handcuffs had not been locked to her belly chain all morning. It’s hard to pull weeds with your hands cuffed to your belly. We had Heather lay face up in the middle of the grass about eight feet away from the fire pit that was in the middle of the little clearing next to the garden. She couldn’t spread her arms apart because of the handcuffs, and she couldn’t spread her legs too far because of the leg irons. But Mal and I could pretty much tell where her wrists and ankles would be if she were spread eagle. We put one end of each of the four chains through a piece of rebar and then pushed it into the grass about two feet beyond those points.

“Slut, here’s your task for this afternoon. Pound each of these pieces of rebar into the ground until only about an inch is showing.” Mal explained, then we went back into the kitchen, grabbed a beer, went back out and sat in the shade of a nice tree.

Heather, meanwhile, was trying to figure out the task. At first, she tried to really swing the hammer, and of course she just succeeded in knocking the rebar over. Then she figured out she could hold the rebar with one hand and the hammer, near the head, with the other to tap the bar down. But she quickly realized that raising an 8 lb. hammer, again and again, with just one arm was exhausting.

“I think the slut may be surprised at just how heavy an 8 lb. sledgehammer can get after a few swings.” I commented.

“She might be able to handle it better if we stuck the handle in her cunt!” Mal said. He was, of course, kidding, but Heather wasn’t completely sure he was kidding. She suddenly found a new burst of strength. After tapping in a foot or so, she was able to hold the hammer with two hands and start really pounding. Then, about 2 feet down, she hit a rock, or so we thought.

“Hit it harder,” Mal instructed. “It will break through eventually.”

Heather hit it three or four times and it didn’t move. She looked at us questioningly and Mal decided to help her out. Mal gave it a swing and bent the rebar. “Shit! Whatever we hit is big. I hope this whole yard isn’t rock.”

Mal took a spare piece of rebar and started probing. When he went away from the chateau, he kept hitting something solid, exactly 2 feet down. But when he moved about a foot towards the chateau, he had no problem. He handed the hammer back to the slut while he and I repositioned the other three pieces to again form a square, now away from the ‘rock’ or whatever it was.

“That’s one big rock!” I observed.

“I don’t think it’s a rock, it’s too regular, always exactly 2 feet under the ground.” Mal responded.

“What do you think It is?” I asked.

“I have an idea, but I need to do some digging next week.” He replied.

“Hmmm, I know a certain slut that could use some upper body exercise next week.” I smiled.

Just as we had suspected, the constant pounding on the top of the rebar caused the steel to flatten out into a mushroom shape. Since we had slid a chain link onto each bar, those short pieces of chain were not coming off that rebar without a lot of work with a hack saw or grinder. And given how hard the ground was behind the chateau and how far that rebar was into the ground, nothing short of a tractor was going to pull those out. I’m sure the slut had realized how firmly they were in, long before she finished the first bar.

We let the slut take her time with the four rebar, we weren’t in any hurry and the beer was cold. By the time she finished her arms looked like rubber bands, she could barely move them. I took Heather to the edge of the woods to urinate, then took her back to the rebar square and locked one ankle to one of the chains.

Paula came out to look over our preparations.

“Let’s bring the kitchen table out here to put next to the fire. We need somewhere away from all the ants to put the food,” she said first. “Oh, and I got a big jar of honey like you asked.” As she said this, she winked at me, while her face was turned away from Heather. At first, I was confused, then I saw the slut, who was sitting on the ground, bare assed of course, lift herself up and look at the ground under her.

‘Damn,’ I thought, ‘Paula is a bitch at mind fucks.’

“I know you guys, not having a vagina, don’t think about this,” Paula explained, “but a woman doesn’t feel completely penetrated unless her legs are folded back when she’s being fucked.”

“Who says we want her to feel completely penetrated?” I asked with a smile.

“OK, I’m just sayin’,” Paula said. “The slut can eat me out in any position, so it’s not my problem.”

This whole conversation, of course, completely ignored the slut that was sitting right at our feet.

We left Heather chained to one of the rebars as Mal and I walked back towards the chateau to get the table for Paula. He said, “She’s right you know, I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Not to worry, leave her belly chain on, add a few pieces of rope and it’s all good. We’ll leave her spread eagle for part of the night and bend her back for part. It will be fun, you’ll see,” I said.

I must say that Paula outdid herself on food. Carl grilled hamburgers and chicken breasts, there was potato salad, a green salad, sliced tomatoes, cut melon, local olives, cheese and more. When we started bringing out the food, Maggie and Reese took Heather to the woods one last time for a potty break. Then they removed her cuffs, leg irons and transport chain and reused the padlock to fix the slut to the rebar and chains, spread-eagle on the ground. They left her belly chain locked on.

The slut had been outside since early morning, and ever since weeding the garden, was filthy, sweaty and dirt stained, with matted hair. The two women sat on either side of the slut and stared casually playing with her body while enjoying some cheese and a glass of wine. They alternated rolling her nipples between their fingers, stroking their fingertips along her sides, stroking the sides of her clit, squeezing her thighs, putting fingers in her cunt (which was soaked) then making her lick them clean, squeezing her breast and so on. They worked on her slowly and casually, with no acknowledgement that Heather was even there. The slut kept quiet, adhering to the don’t speak unless spoken to rule.

Everybody was still mostly dressed when Lucija came out of the house to join the party. She, however, was completely naked except for a sizable strapon penis and a towel thrown over her shoulder. She was also leading a completely naked Tim by a leash.

“The invitation didn’t specify a dress code,” she said with a smile, “Timmy and I hope this is appropriate.”

“Oh, hell yea,” said Carl, “as long as you don’t plan to use that thing go me!”

“No, I was thinking that a certain spread-eagled slut might enjoy this in her pussy,” she replied.

It was hard not to laugh as Lucija walked across the grass towards the food with that massive piece of silicone swinging from side to side, Tim following behind led on a leash. She did take the strapon off for a while so she could eat without it getting in the way of her plate.

Lucija pulled a pair of handcuffs out of the duffle bag of toys we had brought from the house. She led Tim over to a tree on the edge of the clearing, about 20 meters from the fire pit, and cuffed his hands behind his back. She unclipped the leash from the collar she had on him and wrapped it around the tree, passing the end with a clip through the loop on the other end. She then clipped the leash to his Prince Albert piercing. It wasn’t completely healed, but close enough for this use, if Tim stood still next to the tree. There was no way he could reach the clip or his penis with his hands cuffed behind his back.

“Now, be a good boy and I might bring you some food and hand feed you later,” Lucija told him as she walked away. She would get so occupied with the trial, torment of the slut and orgy that she almost forgot to unclip him later that night. Poor Tim spent the night alone, ignored, trapped against a tree by his penis, with a raging erection, watching everyone screwing everyone.

The hamburgers and chicken smelled wonderful on the grill and the group attacked the food. As people would get up to get more, those sitting beside Heather changed, but the constant torment and stimulation of her body did not. She was also hand fed a nice selection of edibles while being tormented.

As everyone was finishing dinner, sleeping bags, beach towels and even a rug from the house was laid out around the fire pit and around the slut. Paula laid out Heather’s old sleeping bag on the ground, put an old towel where her ass would be, and we slid the bag and towel up under her for a little comfort from the cold grass.

“Slut,” I announced to both Heather and the group, “you are free use tonight, with the exception of your ass, there will be no penis’, fingers or toys in your ass. The objective tonight is not to keep you from orgasm but to give you more than you can handle. I expect you to remember your manners and you may not speak unless spoken to EXCEPT, you have permission, in fact you are encouraged, to beg FOR things. Food, tongues, penis, finger, vibrators, and especially orgasms. In fact, you are encouraged to beg FOR things. You may NOT beg for something to stop, be taken away or not be done to you. Begging for something, allowed. Begging us to stop something, bad! Do you understand slut?”

“Yes sir. I can’t wait sir! Can I have some of that now, sir!” she said, looking directly at my crotch. I was pleased to see that Heather had decided to have fun with tonight, she was in full brat mode.

“Everybody else got it?” I asked, ignoring the slut for now.

“Yep,” Maggie said, “But what’s the penalty if she does beg us to stop?”

“You know what I discovered this week, quite by accident?” Mal asked rhetorically, “She has VERY ticklish feet.”

I saw the slut visibly shudder at that announcement.

“Really!” Paula exclaimed as she reached across and ran a finger nail up the sole of the slut’s right foot.

The effect was dramatic. I didn’t think Heather had much room to move, she was staked out so tightly, but she just about rose up off the lawn, then twisted violently to the left, laughing hysterically.

Bless Mal for understanding the tone I wanted to set for this evening. I suppose someone could have proposed all sorts of painful punishments. But I really wanted this evening to be a fun, orgasm fest for our slut and tickling as her worst-case punishment, well, that was perfect.

“OK, Judge Carl, read the demerit count,” I said, starting the Demerit Trial part of the evening the way we did every Friday night.

“The slut earned a record 25 demerits last week," he announced to a general round of boos, “shame,” and “bad slut!”

“Slut,” Paula continued, “we normally have you stand to confess your demerits, but I think your current position will do just fine. You may begin.”

“Yes Ma'am,” Heather said.

“I failed to keep my cell clean,” Heather started.

“LOUDER slut,” Paula shouted. “And start over, we can’t hear you from down there.”

“YES MA'AM,” Heather started again. “I failed to keep my cell clean, there was food on the floor after breakfast Tuesday. I forgot to show proper respect to Mal, I’m sorry Sir. Then I was negligent in my personal hygiene and put playing on my iPad above brushing my teeth. Reese was very lenient in not taking my iPad away and only giving me two demerits. Finally, I did a horrible, sloppy, and lazy job picking bugs off our garden plants. We all eat from that garden, and I let the whole group down. I deserved 20 demerits for the 20 bugs Paula found in the garden.”

The whole group knew the story of the bugs. I’m also sure that Heather understood exactly how she had been set up, but bless her heart, she was playing right along. It was fun, looking around the circle at everyone trying so hard not to laugh, putting on their best stern faces. I’m sure if someone had said “ohhhh, gurl, you in trouble now!” the whole fire ring would have exploded in laughter.

But nobody did. And Paula was ready to put the fear of bondage back in the slut.

“Twenty-five demerits. A record. That deserves a special series of punishments to atone for such serious failures.” Just hearing this pronouncement from Paula, in such a serious tone, settled the group down. As they had pre-arranged, Maggie brought forth a paper plate full of clothespins and string. She had previously run the string through the spring on 25 pins.

Although she had certainly had clothespins on her body on multiple occasions, and hated them, I don’t think Heather had ever experienced a zipper. She was wide eyed as Maggie and Reese applied two rows of 12 pins each, starting with each nipple and running down the sides of her breasts and down each side of her belly. The 25th clothespin was given to Lucija who applied it directly to the slut’s clit. At this point we had to get a little creative, since the slut was staked out in the middle of a grassy area.

Mal and Carl held a spare piece of rebar over the slut just beyond her head but where she could clearly look up and see it. They lifted it about chest height initially. Paula tied a used brick from the slut walk to the end of the heavy string that had been threaded through all the clothespins. She then put this string over the rebar so that if she let go of the brick, in falling it would rip all the clothespins off Heather’s nipples, chest and clit. Finally, she ran the excess string from the brick back over the bar and told the slut to clamp down with her teeth. The guys were then instructed to lift the rebar over their heads, holding their arms straight up. Now, the only thing holding the brick up to the rebar was the string in Heather’s mouth.

“You’re a smart slut,” Paula explained, “I’m sure you can figure out that if you can’t keep your mouth shut, all those clothespins are going to be violently ripped off your body. But to make it fair, all you have to do is outlast Mal and Carl. If their arms get tired of holding up that rebar before you release the string, we’ll remove the clothespins one by one. They will still hurt coming off, but nothing like having them all RIPPED off at once.”

As the slut was contemplating this challenge, Paula added, “Oh another thing to help make this a fair contest, can I get a couple of volunteers to give Mal and Carl blow jobs.”

“Oh, oh, me!” Lucija said with enthusiasm.

“I haven’t had that magnificent organ of Mal’s in my mouth in months,” Maggie exclaimed.

The rebar wasn’t all that long, and Lucija and Maggie had a squeeze in, getting back-to-back between the two men. They were also at risk of having a brick dropped on their feet, so I stood beside them to catch the brick, if (when?) the slut dropped it.

As Lucija started to pull down Carl’s shorts, I could see he was conflicted. He had signed up for an orgy, and he had offered to take Lucija to bed on Thursday. But this girl was 20 years his junior and not a member of the original bike club and he was having an attack of morals. Lucija had no such reservations. I’m pretty sure she quickly volunteered to blow Carl because she thought it the best way to make people forget that she was the new girl.

“Carl, you’re only the third guy I’ve had in my mouth,” Lucija said as she kissed the tip of his cock. “Please don’t hesitate to coach me. I like Heather so I really want to make you drop that rebar!” And with that she went to work with the most delightful slurping sounds coming from both cocks.

Cradic and Reese had both gotten naked and were standing to one side watching the action. Reese was slowly stroking Cradic’s dick, and he had his hand over her shoulder massaging her breast.

But Paula hadn’t finished setting this scene. I looked up and she was wearing the oven mitt on one hand and holding the jar of caterpillars in the other. “I went back in the garden later this afternoon and found some more bugs you missed, slut," she announced. “These are some of your favorites!”

The sun had pretty much settled and most of the light was coming from the flickering fire pit. I’m sure Heather could tell there were caterpillars in the jar, but I doubt she could see them clearly. It’s funny how the mind fills in details given just a few suggestions. Heather just immediately assumes, as Paula knew she would, that these were the yellow banded devils that had previously stung her so badly.

As Paula took one out of the jar, using the oven mitt, Heather’s eyes went wide! Paula set the caterpillar right on top of the clothespin on Heather’s left nipple. As she started to get another one out, she said “I’m told they don’t sting unless they feel threatened. I wonder if you squirm around if it will make them feel threatened?” she said as she plopped another harmless caterpillar on the clothespin on the right nipple. By now, the first caterpillar had reached the bottom of its clothespin and had started to crawl across Heather’s breast.

“I’m also told they like to crawl into warm, dark places at night,” Paula lied, as she dropped a third caterpillar on the slut’s crotch right above her clit.”

For a second, I was afraid Heather was going to have a heart attack or stroke or something. The muscles of her jaw were bulging, her whole body was tense, she had stopped breathing.

Lucija and Maggie were still sucking, but had turned their heads sideways, putting their respective cocks into their cheeks so they could watch the caterpillars with fascination, and perhaps to make sure they weren’t crawling towards them.

Paula pulled a fourth fuzzy, crawling worm out of the jar and started moving towards the slut’s face. At the same instant the caterpillar on her crotch started crawling towards the slut’s clit and the one on her right clothespin reached the nipple. It was all just too much. Heather screamed. It was one of those blood curdling screams from horror movies. Instantly the brick dropped, and 25 clothes pins were ripped off. I was so startled by the slut’s scream that I almost failed to catch the brick, grabbing it inches above Maggie and Lucija’s legs.

Then there was total silence for about 2 seconds. Heather had expelled all the air in her lungs and was just lying there with her eyes and mouth wide open in a silent scream. After what seemed like forever, she inhaled a rush of air and screamed again.

Mal and Carl almost fell backwards, and they stepped away from the slut. Both Lucija and Maggie fell forward, their mouths now empty. The slut took another breath and screamed a third time.

Maggie recovered first and, knowing the caterpillars were harmless, moved to Heather’s side and cradled her head. “Relax. Breathe. It’s over.”

“Get them off! Get them off!” Heather begged.

“What? These?” Paula said as she dumped the rest of the jar on the slut’s chest.

I was grateful we had used chain and rebar to stake the slut out, because I’m quite sure she would have broken lesser bonds with her struggling. “Oh god!, Get them off!”

“Paula!” Maggie shouted, “That’s enough!” and proceeded to flick several of the caterpillars off Heather’s chest.

“Look at me Heather," Paula said, using the slut’s real name. “Do you trust me?”

Heather looked up at Paula, who was holding one of the caterpillars with her ungloved fingers.

Initially, her eyes only saw another one of the feared stinging fuzzy worms. But Paula’s face, and her words were so calm that finally, Heather’s brain engaged, and she realized Paula was holding the bug with bare fingers.

“YOU BITCH!” Heather exclaimed when the reality of the situation hit her.

“That’s one demerit to start next week," Paula declared, smiling. “Help me put these things back in the jar, harmless or not, I don’t want them eating my garden.”

It was only then that the pain from the ripped off clothespins hit the slut. “Oh, shit! That hurts.”


Continues in

You can also leave your feedback & comments about this story on the Plaza Forum