Hunter's Retreat

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

#3 of A Sordid Plot

Nothing lasts forever. Even the vivacious appetites of the devoted Trophy-hunter must eventually give way to advancing age. But when you've lived an eventful life, full of kinky sex and horny submissives, your idea of a pleasant retirement may be a bit... different than most. And so, out manipulative main character sets out to forge the perfect retirement-cottage - the Hunter's Retreat!

Thanks to DrApfelbomber for proofreading as always.


A Sordid Plot

Chapter 3 - Hunter's Retreat

The thrill of the hunt... the pleasure of tracking and cornering a rare beast... sigh. It would have been nice to be able to carry on that way forever. But time makes fools of us all, as they say. Once I celebrated my 40th birthday, I knew it was about time to consider my retirement. I'm not getting any younger, after all, and advancing age makes my 'hunts' a lot more challenging. Not that I CAN'T still seduce a pretty young thing, mind. It's just that my possible avenues of attack are getting painfully narrow... which also limits my selection of prey. I'd basically have to just keep an eye out for 'daddy issues', and pick my marks accordingly.

And that's just... undignified. Better to bow out gracefully than continue in such a pitiful manner. So I went ahead and finally did what I've always said I wouldn't - took advantage of my skills to set myself up with a comfortable life. Still, though, I wasn't about to just become the layabout lover of some rich widow. I decided, if I was going to do it, I'd do it right. So I started reaching out to my various Trophies - both those I was in regular contact with, and those I had left behind. I rallied them together, convinced them to pool their resources, and hatched a plan to set up the ultimate retreat...

It's worked out nicely, too, if I do say so myself. I still miss that thrill sometimes, of course... but this is how it's supposed to go, right? When the Big Game Hunter grows a bit too old to go traipsing through the African wilderness, he retreats to a comfy study filled with the mounted trophies of his career, drinking brandy and swapping war-stories with other old hunters (most of whom would probably have some truly magnificent mustaches.) So that's what I went with!

It's an isolated estate in the south - pretty old, but in fine condition. The kind of place where 'Gone with the Wind' or its ilk could be set. Mint Julips on the Verandah, and whatnot. The whole area is private property, and the only access-road is watched over by a private security company. Not that we get a lot of intruders - even though I didn't pay for a fraction of the property, the whole thing is in my name. And I've kept a low enough profile that no paparazzi are hunting me down. The same can not be said for some of the people who funded the affair.

Well, to give you an idea of what kind of place this is, let me take you on a tour of the grounds! You should know, though, that everyone but myself is generally referred to by a descriptive codename - a practice I suggested myself. Mostly because, well... I've always had a hard time remembering the name of all my conquests, you know? The ones I was currently working on, sure - but once they've been suitably stuffed and mounted, they just kind of... faded from my mind. So I just thought of them as the model, the whore, the slave... and I figured, why not codify it?

So - starting outside the manor-house itself, we've got the kennels. There's 'bout a baker's dozen dogs there, all but two of them males. They're all loosely trained for human intercourse, and their fodder is spiced with a carefully-balanced hormonal mix that keeps them constantly horny. That's where my dear old companion, Blackie, lives too, in a very nice doghouse, along with his wife. 's true - he went and got married! I should know - I officiated the ceremony myself. And designed the bride's wedding-gown, for that matter. I did a pretty good job of it, I think - invoking the classic lines of the Pure White Bride using so little fabric was a bit of a challenge, really. But she looked quite sparkling like that, complete with the white leather collar, and Blackie holding the lead in his mouth.

She goes by the name of The Bitch, now - but you may remember her from my earlier stories as the model. She provided the lion's share of the funds for this project, eager to retire from public view and settle down with her 'secret lover'. She wears the 'special' collar almost all the time, now - living in the kennel with the other dogs, eating and drinking from bowls, sleeping in a basket, moving around on her hands and knees. Every now and then, she feels like standing up for a bit, walking around, talking to people, eating at a table, sleeping in a bed... just for a couple of days. But those times are growing steadily rarer. Might have something to do with me making sure she sees the latest news whenever she starts acting like a human. Faced with a world gone mad, isn't it tempting to just abandon it all and retire to the simple, warm life of a well-cared-for pet?

Certainly, her daily life doesn't lack for warmth. Blackie is very attentive of his bride - I barely need to give him any orders. They're so passionate, too - when I go to check in on them in the morning, I usually find that they've slept in a passionate embrace, his knot lodged inside one of her holes. I'll tell you, there's nothing like watching Blackie pull his cock out of her ass after it's marinated there for the whole night, only to see that glamorous ex-model eagerly spin around so that she can close her lips around the bright-red tool and drink down his morning piss. She always looks so joyful at it... truly, living with Blackie like that is her idea of an idyllic relationship.

Of course, as wedded couples go, they're the 'swinger' sort. The Bitch tends to spend most of her days fuckin' and suckin' with the other male dogs, and Blackie tends to mount the actual bitches every now and then, too... just to make a point, I suspect. The bitches have basic training, too, so they let Blackie use them as he pleases - pussy or ass, whichever he happens to find. I've also managed to train them so that, if The Bitch is around afterwards, they back up against her face so that she can lick and suck Blackie's cum out of their freshly-fucked canine orifices. Usually while one of the other male dogs is busy mounting her, of course. It's always a fun sight!

Now, you might wonder why I'd bother to get that many trained sex-dogs, including a pair of females, just to keep The Bitch happy... and the answer is, I didn't. See, by pooling the resources of several of my trophies, we were able to buy this nice estate, but the _upkeep_is something else. Wages to be paid, food to be purchased, property-taxes to consider... a steady income is needed. So, the estate is officially listed as an 'exclusive retreat'. That is, a really fancy inn. For the last weekend of every month, I auction off a number of 'invites' to various contacts and loose associates of mine - specifically, the richer ones. Old pervs, horny young rich-kids, moderately wealthy couples who keep their kinks carefully under wraps in their everyday life... they all come here, eager to spend the weekend without taboos, indulging every perverse desire they can imagine. Sometimes, that involves The Bitch, and sometimes that involves actual bitches - far be it from me to judge!

So, anyway - heading inside the mansion-house proper, you're likely to be greeted by The Maid. A stunning, black-haired Mexican beauty - dressed in a modified, Victorian-style maid-uniform, of course. The built-in corset makes her breasts stand out impressively, resting on lily-white pads of fabric as they do, and while the dress hangs to her knees in front - complete with white apron - the back is basically nonexistent, completely exposing her bum. Contrary to what you might expect, though, she actually wears underwear - _naughty_underwear. Black, semi-diaphanous, minimalistic panties with a barely-visible opening along the crotch, similarly-black garter-belt and suspenders, and of course sheer stockings.

Her 'thing' is Service Submission. That is, she gets off on being ordered around, cleaning, cooking, and generally waiting her Master on hand and foot. I'd originally considered her a fairly unspectacular Trophy, but when it came to setting up this place, she was an obvious pick. She works hard every day, keeping the mansion clean, cooking our food, changing sheets, and so on and so forth. When we have 'visitors', she's surprisingly popular, despite - or perhaps because of - the fact that she isn't on the regular 'menu'. Her "Oh no, Sir, I am merely the maid, I am surely not qualified to provide you with nightly pleasures... I have duties I must attend to, besides." routine is a big draw. That edge of reluctance and humility tends to be a particularly big hit with the 'old rich pig' type, I've noticed. Personally, I don't care for her, though I sometimes let her suck me off while I eat breakfast, just to show I haven't forgotten about her.

There's a lot of guest-rooms in the mansion, of course, and they all have en-suite bathrooms. There is also, however, a heavily-trafficked bathroom for general use, which includes the entirety of the 'staff'. Of course, visitors tend to go there more often than not too, due to the unique services offered there. Next to the loo, a voluptuous black woman is chained to the wall, see... and not with any timed lock. I've spoken of her before, but she now goes by the name of The Toilet. She's got a comfy little nest in the bathroom, and a metallic slave-collar permanently affixed to her neck. Taking her off the chain is possible, of course, but isn't done unless she's been requested by a guest.

So for the most part, she lives there. The chain is long enough that she can use the loo herself, and even bathe. The Maid brings her meals every day. And no matter how many people come to that room, she's always eager to offer her services, drinking down at least a gallon of hot piss every day. And of course rimjobs are available whenever you like. I find coprophilia - nevermind coprophagia - to be disgusting, myself, but some of my guests are into it and, well... she handles them too. Diff'rent strokes for diff'rent folks, I suppose! Regardless, she seems quite happy like that, chained to the wall as a permanent toilet-slave. She doesn't have to worry about her day-job, about rent, about food. She can just float away on the ecstasy of humiliation and neglect every day.

There are another couple of 'special' rooms. In the basement, for example, is the torture-chamber, and its semi-permanent resident, The Painslut. It's got every implement of torture and pain you can imagine, along with a girl who's only too eager to try them all out. I first met her years ago - a young masochist tentatively exploring a new-found kink. Under my tutelage, that kink became an obsession, and like another 'student' of mine that you might recall, she became driven to find her limits. How far could she go before the pain stopped being pleasurable? Unfortunately, the answer seemed to be that she didn't have any limits.

Her escalating urge to push herself to new heights of torment was the reason I eventually distanced myself from her. It seemed likely that she would eventually go too far, push her body beyond its limits, and wind up dead. It happens sometimes, y'know, in the more extreme BDSM-communities. I didn't want to risk getting caught up in a police investigation. But, she was still alive when I reached out to her, albeit bearing the scars of a few close misses, and eager to renew our relationship. She'd been bouncing from dom to dom since I pushed her away, but they had proven, if anything, more reluctant than I to let her push her limits.

Well, the last thing I wanted was for her to wind up dead on my retirement-estate, drawing police attention here, so I offered her a particular deal, which she eagerly took. Not that that surprised me. Ever since running into an amputee bondage-enthusiast at a fetish-party back when we were together, she'd been fascinated by the amputee-fetish subculture. Only reason she hadn't 'experimented' with that herself probably was that, well, it's not really something you can do on your own. So I put her in touch with my old associate Doctor D, and he lent a hand... so to speak.

See, I'd toyed with having her hands permanently cuffed so that she wouldn't be tempted to use any of the potentially-dangerous torture-implements she'd be surrounded by on herself, but no matter how that was done, her hands and arms would wind up being in the way. So the good doctor took off her arms at the elbows. She cuts quite a figure, now - the healed elbow-stumps, the scars covering her body from old whippings, the shaved head and numerous piercings... including some rather spectacular 'piercings' crowning the aforementioned stumps. A pair of titanium loop-heads had been screwed into the bone there - think supersized screw-eyes - mostly to provide an anchoring-point for bondage and such.

She's good enough at using her stumps that she can open doors, so she can move around the estate by herself. The Maid helps her eat, hand-feeding her, and The Toilet helps her with... well, going to the toilet. But she lives in the torture-chamber, surrounded by whips and clamps, and sleeps there too. I tug her in myself most nights - by which I mean that I seat her on the wooden horse, bind her to the rack, hang her from the ceiling by several sensitive body-parts, or the like. It's how she's most 'comfortable', apparently.

Normally, she walks around stark-naked, of course - but sometimes, if she's been 'good', I help her put on her 'special' underwear. Panties and bra in gleaming metal, strapped on - needless to say, she can't take them off on her own. The 'bra' covers her breasts near-completely, leaving only the nipples sticking out of a pair of central holes, with large padlocks run through their piercings. The inside of the 'bra' is covered in short, sharp spikes of gleaming titanium (ensuring that she can wear it for long periods of time without her body trying to reject the metal). The panties similarly have a gap for her clit, with another padlock attached to it, and a thin pipe underneath it - poking into her bladder. A simple valve keeps it closed, but can be easily opened - The Toilet tends to do it with her lips. A spike-covered dildo is attached to the inside, filling her pussy - and a similarly-cruel butt-plug is at the rear, along with a circle of spikes designed to dig into her distended sphincter. The plug is hollow-cored and open at the tip, however, with a simple screw-off cap on the outside enabling her to defecate while wearing it. If it was up to her, she'd probably wear it all the time - I tend to see her shuddering with mini-orgasms all day long as her movements cause the spikes to dig into sensitive tissue, triggering her masochistic desires. But for health-reasons, I never let her wear it for more than a week or so at a time.

Of course, if there's anyone in the house who can be said to pull off an even more extreme look than The Painslut, it's The Animal. You'll remember her, I'm sure. An extremist in the field of submission and bondage, who underwent a year-long treatment of sensory deprivation and body-modification? Yeah, the 'process' proved quite successful. As far as I can tell, she's entirely forgotten how to talk - the only word she seems to remember is 'No', and she basically never uses that. She's also made no attempt to relearn how to walk - preferring to get around by crawling. One thing that hasn't worked out great is her finding her way around by my voice and her sense of smell. Best she can manage is to home in on the scent of nearby genitals when ordered to. So I mostly just put a lead on her and walk her around like you would a dog.

She's got no sense of self left, as far as I can tell. She does whatever she's ordered to, without hesitation or reluctance. She'll accept pain and pleasure with equal equanimity, never flinching, but never seems to seek either out. Left to her own devices, she'll simply... sit, unmoving, like a marionette with its strings cut, eventually wetting herself. Not even hunger and thirst seem to have any hold on her - if I didn't make sure she got fed and watered regularly, she'd likely just die from dehydration without ever bothering to go out in search of water. Might have something to do with living off of intravenously-injected nutrients and fluids for a year.

For this reason, I mostly leave her in her 'room'... which is really just a tiny closet. She can just about fit in there, with restraints clicking into place to keep her entirely immobile. A mouth-tube attached to her face-mask provides her with regular infusions of water and (liquid) food, and a couple of attachment-points on the floor slots into the girdle she wears to keep the dildos in place. A tube for her urethra-dildo, to keep her bladder from bursting, an enema-tube for the ass-dildo, and electrical wiring for all three, to start them pumping, spinning, and occasionally electrifying her. That environment - so similar to the year she spent in the sensory deprivation tank - seems to comfort her, though it's hard to really tell. Regardless, I've sometimes left her in there for weeks at a time, and she's seemed no worse for wear when I pull her out and put her to work. I honestly haven't found her to be as much fun as I'd thought - fucking her peehole was an interesting experience, but the novelty soon wore off, and her body's so utterly trashed that there isn't much else to use her for. She's quite popular with the visitors, though, for obvious reasons.

Now, leaving the mansion for the moment, let's head out back. There used to be a plantation, there, back in the days where slave-labor made such things profitable, but we've repurposed it as grazing-space. There's a tidy little barn, there, where several happy animals lead happy lives and have lots and lots of sex with attractive women. Specifically, there are two girls you can usually find there - The Cowgirl and The Fuckpig. The Cowgirl is... well, pretty much what you'd imagine. Blond like a wheatfield, stacked like a milking-cow, thoroughly befreckled, and built like a brick shithouse.

She can usually be found wearing a cowboy-hat, matching boots, and crotchless chaps just to complete the look... and, of course, she's usually located underneath one of the stallions or bulls. Originally a connoisseur of big dicks, I carefully nurtured an interest in animals in her, pointing out how much bigger dicks could get once you looked past Homo Sapiens. It worked out nicely! Maybe a bit too_nicely. Being a proper farmgirl, she already knew a thing or two about how to deal with animals, so she hardly needed any help from me in order to find willing barn-side lovers. So I never managed to get her properly 'bound' to _me, making her ultimately a flawed Trophy. Still, I had enough of a hold to draw her here - she wasn't about to pass up a chance to spend every day getting her well-trained holes reamed out by horny bulls and stallions, without having to worry about work or peeping toms. Especially once I told her that I'd found a solution to the problem that had dogged her since I introduced her to equine and bovine love.

See, horses and cattle are both prey-animals. In nature, they have to spend their lives looking over their shoulder for predators pretty much all the time. A few millenia of domestication isn't enough to break a habit like that. This also means that when it comes to sex, stallions and bulls alike are very much the slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am type. They just wanna get it over with as quickly as possible, in order to minimize the risk of being caught with their proverbial pants down by a hungry predator. I mean, it IS kind of a vulnerable condition to be in, no? That, however, means that once you've managed to train a horse to mount a human woman, you've got a very well-equipped lover with the staying-power of an oversexed teen. Thirty seconds, and he's done. Needless to say, this can easily leave women... frustrated, leading to the necessity of having a BUNCH of horses on hand who, perhaps, can get something done by working together.

But, I found a solution - thanks once again to the inestimable Doctor D, for all that he complained that he wasn't a vet. I had to pay him - and quite well, at that - along with providing 'free time' with the girls, but he did a fine job. Each of the stallions and bulls in the barn, already trained to mount humans instead of their own kind, have had a small titanium valve operated into their scrotum, in the middle of their vas deferens - that is, between the balls and the cock. It basically sits in the middle of the cum-tube - and closes it, until the pressure becomes sufficient to force it open. So, they'll fuck... and keep fucking, their instincts driving them to find release regardless of the perceived risk. Once their balls are fully churning with cum, the mounting pressure pushes open the valve, and they finally get their release. Blasting, not incidentally, something like three of their normal cumloads, turning their cocks into high-pressure hoses. The Cowgirl doesn't seem to mind this detail - nor have we ever gotten any complaints from any of our female guests!

While she spends her days caring for the big animals - both in the sexual AND non-sexual sense - The Fuckpig looks after the smaller ones. That includes a couple of goats and rams, as well as donkeys and mules, but mostly - as her name suggests - it's pigs. Indeed, whenever she doesn't have any other duties, she can usually be found in the pigsty, wallowing in the mud as a succession of horny boars fill her distended belly with their thick cum. I originally scouted her as a potential anal addict, but got side-tracked when I discovered that there was a reason she tended to favor anal sex over vaginal. Her pussy was, essentially, misshapen - underdeveloped, due to a birth defect. So despite having an adult body, she had been left with the pussy of a three-year-old. Needless to say, that made sex with a normally-equipped man anywhere between painful (for both) and just plain impossible.

Seeing an opportunity, I introduced her to pigs. Their long, pencil-thin cocks, with the intriguing, corkscrew-shaped heads seemed perfect, and sure enough, they were a match. They filled her, without being painful, providing her with the pleasure of vaginal intercourse for the first time. It wasn't hard to grow that into a fixation. She soon grew to enjoy every aspect of being fucked by a pig, including the way they'd leave a sticky seal behind once they'd finished filling her womb with their cum. That's the reason for the aforementioned corkscrew-head, actually - it's to drill through the 'seal' left behind by other males. An arms-race of impregnation, essentially. Either way, you'd be hard-pressed to ever find her without a belly-bump these days, her womb almost permanently filled by hot pig-spunk.

So, in order to satisfy her perverted desires every day, she happily puts her ass - my original target, you might recall - at the disposal of the remaining animals who are too small to draw The Cowgirl's interest. When we have 'visitors', she gets properly into character, wearing a fetish pig-mask and a large butt-plug with a curly tail. The fact that she's heavy on the curves completes the look - half the guests who request her aren't even interested in her pig-fucking antics, they just want an obediently submissive BBW to ass-ream. Well, either way, I originally considered both of them to be interesting-but-impractical Trophies. Having them around basically required also having a bunch of animals around, after all, and until quite recently, I've thought of myself as being too much of a city-mouse for that. Now that that's no longer an issue, well, I rather enjoy having them on hand. I often hang around the stables when I've got an idle hour, just watching them happily reduce themselves to fuck-holes for a bunch of animals.

Now, you might say that all the stuff that's going on around the mansion - from classic torture-devices to large animals - seems liable to cause some occasional injuries. And you'd be right! Which is why we've got a proper Infirmary, well-stocked thanks to my pharmaceutical contacts, and staffed by The Nurse. She looks pretty much exactly the way you'd think - a curvy brunette wearing a skimpy fetish-nurse-outfit. She is also, however, a fully-trained and genuine, accredited nurse. At least, she was, until she was fired for having sex with a patient.

She actually had sex with a BUNCH of patients - but I'd at least taught her how to cover her tracks well enough that she only got caught for_one_ of them. Her 'thing', you see, is medical play. Medical treatment, medical tools... they all excite her. Arouse her. You might think that, considering that, it made sense for her to go into the medical profession, but only if you aren't the sort to actually think things through. She was always an ethical investigation waiting to happen - hence why I distanced myself from her originally. If things had gone down differently, if the hospital she'd worked with hadn't managed to strangle the story at the outset, it could've easily been one of those little stories that blow up big in the 24-hour news-cycle. Standing near her at that point would've been bad for my low profile.

But, hey. It all worked out. She avoided any major punishment, but couldn't find any work in the medical sector afterwards - obviously. So she was ludicrously grateful when I offered her a position. She'll treat residents and visitors alike, with perfect competence - be it a stomachache from drinking too much cum and piss, a muscle-cramp from being tied up in the same position for too long, or a bleeding gash from going a bit too hard on the S/M. After - or possibly _during -_the treatment, she'll then fuck her patient, regardless of their age, sex, race, and indeed species. (We don't have a dedicated vet on site, so she helps out with the animals too...) And of course, if a guest wants to 'play doctor', she's MORE than happy to join in.

And finally, if you should enter my private chambers - which you shouldn't, unless you're me - you may encounter The Secretary. If she isn't at her desk, doing the books for our 'enterprise', balancing income, expenses, purchases of food and medicine, occasional bribes, vetting prospective visitors, and just generally doing all the paperwork, she's usually in my bed, serving my every desire with a smile. Only the most carefully-vetted VIP Guests ever gets to meet her, much less request her for the night - with good reason, considering that she's just barely 13 years old. You might remember her - her name used to me Maki. She's shed that name, though - after all, 'Maki' is an open missing-persons report. A promising child-prodigy who simply... disappeared one day, leaving no trace. If such things were still done, her face would be on the milk-cartons.

Convincing her to essentially elope with me was easier than you might think. She'd always been isolated, both by her intelligence and her Asian-American ethnicity. Once I got her hooked on sex, that sense of isolation only deepened, especially once her parents disowned her older sister for having the temerity to become a pornstar. (Following my subtle guidance, of course.) Of course she gravitated towards the only place where she'd found unquestioning acceptance. A place where there was no pressure to conform, no need to pretend. A place crazy and perverted enough that she could actually fit in.

And of course, she also loves me. Don't underestimate that. You can control women a lot using conditioning, manipulation, addiction, social pressure, and all those other tricks. Compared to that, making her fall in love with you is a lot of work. But in some situations, it's well worth it, and Maki was special enough to be worth it. She's completely devoted to me now - and not the empty-eyed obedience of the hardcore submissive or the hopeless sex-addict. She's got plenty of initiative, actively working to support and improve our shared endeavor, and indeed, actively working to please me in any way she can. I hardly ever need to give her any orders. And all it takes to maintain this undying love is keeping her in my bed.

She doesn't care about all the things I do with the other women living at the estate. She doesn't even mind 'entertaining' guests on my request. It's all just sex, and I'm the one who taught her about that. To her, it's a casual, pleasurable thing, easily shared with friends, family, and suitably pleasant strangers. Love is another matter. As long as I give no sign that I love another woman, she's happy to let me fuck 'em to my hearts content. An easy line to toe, since I'm pretty sure I've never felt that way about anyone, ever...

Anyway, my Secretary is still young and tight-bodied, her asian genes ensuring that she looks at least a couple of years younger than she actually is. I've carefully steered clear of subjecting her to any major 'stretching'. Pussy and ass remains wonderfully tight, and her mouth has developed into a real masterpiece. The same intelligence that has allowed her to master her new secretarial duties like a pro, has also enabled her to pick up master-level oral skills. She wakes me with a blowjob every morning, happily drinking down my cum - and, once that's out of the way, my morning piss - as her breakfast meal. If she isn't busy with work, and we don't have company, she tends to follow me around when I wander the grounds, providing me with a warm mouth or a tight hole to fuck as I watch the sexy antics of the other residents.

And of course, if I so much as suggests that 'it might be fun if...', she'll eagerly jump into any kind of sexual play, performing her best for my amusement. She's got no limits, no reluctance in her. I've had her licking horse-balls to stimulate them while the stallion was busy fucking The Cowgirl, rimming a boar while it mounted The Fuckpig, flogging The Painslut while she blew me, getting her still-tiny tits painfully inflated by The Nurse's saline injections, wearing a strap-on to spit-roast The Maid when I felt like throat-fucking her, and of course, joining The Bitch in the kennel, making out with her while both of them was mounted by several dogs in rapid succession.

Why, yes, I have deliberately ensured that everyone who resides on the Hunter's Retreat Estate have been involved with Maki at least once, so that none of them can call me out for statutory rape without incriminating themselves at the same time. Most of them are thoroughly under my control, but some of the bonds are looser than I'd like, and it never hurts to make doubly sure anyway. Well, I've never had her together with The Animal - she's disturbed by her, and besides, it's not like she is going to tell anyone anything, ever.

Now, you might wonder where... umm... what was her name again... ah yes, Miku! You might wonder where Miku is in all this - well, the answer to that is, she's got a fairly successful career as a pornstar. The market for pro pornstars has diminished a lot in recent years, since the internet has turned every slut with a webcam into tangible competition, but there's still work to be had if you're young, good-looking, and willing to do basically anything. All of which obviously applies to Miku... or, The Pornstar, as she's called when she visits. She's definitely got her own career going, but once in a while, when she's between jobs, she'll come by to say hi to her sister.

It's always fun to see the two of them renew their relationship. It's_especially_ fun to be in the middle of it. Once, early on, when we needed a major cash-infusion for some initial purchases, I invited her around for a guest-weekend, and offered up the 'Pornstar and Secretary Sisters Combo' to the VIP clientele. The bidding-war got delightfully out of hand, but despite an initial pang of buyer's regret, the winner reported full satisfaction by the time he went home...

Still, you might wonder why I didn't recruit her to be part of the permanent staff - surely, I had the necessary influence to draw her in, right? Well, yeah, but I didn't feel like it. If you think about it, The Pornstar is a fairly unimpressive Trophy on her own merits. Yeah, she'll do bestiality, but not to the degree of The Bitch, The Cowgirl or The Fuckpig. She's a masochist, but not to the same degree as The Painslut. She's young and pretty, but obviously not as much as The Secretary. The only thing she's really got going for her is her natural nymphomania... and while that IS a rare find, it's functionally no different from plain old sex-addition, which is something that can be induced and cultivated. And indeed, I have done just that in basically every girl I DID invite to the estate.

The only really unique selling-point she's got is the incest-angle... seeing her indulge in various sapphic delights with her teenaged kid sister DOES have an undeniable appeal. But y'see, even back then, I was planning to bring somebody else on board, somebody who'd cover that angle and another besides. Let me tell you how that went down...

I was still an inexperienced hunter when I first met them. The Sister and The Brother. It started when I seduced her - The Sister. She was younger than me - classic jailbait - but I was still young enough by then that I could pursue something like that without too much risk. As I started prodding her, poking her psyche to see what kinks and perversions might be coaxed from it, I found out about her secret desire for her half-identical twin brother. I found it quite intriguing. They had grown up together, isolated on a farm deep in the countryside, no other kids around to play with - until the farm had gone bankrupt, and their parents had been forced to move to the city to look for work. Even there, however, their isolation did not diminish - it was merely sharpened by the presence of other kids who looked down on them for being poor 'hayseeds'.

What bemused me was that growing up so closely should do the exact opposite of create incestuous desires. It's called the Westermarck Effect, after the anthropologist who first observed that children who had grown up together tended not to develop sexual attraction for one another once puberty set in, regardless of whether they were blood-relations or not. Conversely, blood-relations who only met later in life frequently DID develop such desires. So she was an aberration, in that regard. I still do not know if some neurological trait caused the aforementioned Effect to fail, or if the environment they grew up in was part of the reason - and the fact that The Brother proved to be the same way didn't exactly clear things up. I approached him as a friend, insinuating myself, and eventually getting him drunk ("Sure you're underage, but c'mon, where's the harm? Just try a bit, see if you like it...") enough to steer the conversation in the right direction. Sure enough, he had a secret fondness for his sister, too.

Caught up in the rarity of what I'd discovered, I started encouraging them, pushing them together. It helped that The Brother took an easy shine to me, admiring me as one of the 'cool kids' he'd singularly failed to be growing up. He looked up to me like the big brother he never had. So of course, he drank down my philosophical musings about the arbitrary way society had decided what sexual expressions were acceptable and which weren't... I shan't bother to repeat them here. It was basically the same argument I used, much more recently, to talk The Pornstar into banging her baby sister.

Eventually, lubricated with a suitable amount of illicit alcohol and carefully-worded dares, I pushed the two of them over the edge - and made sure their first night together was unforgettable. It worked out well - subsequently, I provided them with a safe place to act out their forbidden love, often joining them for some rather pleasurable threesomes. At the time, however, I felt that I had outsmarted myself somewhat. Their love for one another easily grew into a fully-fledged obsession, but as a result, my hold over either one of them was severely weakened. I also felt bothered by the mutuality of their relationship - my ideal for a brother/sister setup was that of a feminine, submissive sister and a masculine, dominant brother... and not only did their relationship lack any shades of D/s, they also looked virtually identical - a fact that favored The Sister rather more than The Brother.

He was very much the 'soft man' type. A classic pretty-boy, slight of build, and more beautiful than handsome. Not exactly well-hung, either. On top of that, the way he looked at me sometimes made me suspect that he wasn't entirely straight, either. Something which, at the time, made me acutely uncomfortable. Ah, the insecurities of youth! Enough said, I decided that while interesting, they were ultimately a flawed Trophy - foolish though that decision seems in retrospect. So I took steps to get rid of them by seeding thoughts of eloping in their minds.

Their near-identical looks, of course, complicated matters - but I had an answer ready for that. Due to the way the mind stores faces, it's psychologically very difficult for someone who's grown up around his own ethnicity to tell the difference between people of other ethnicities. Hence, to someone from a predominantly white area, all black people look the same... and vice versa. My idea, thus, was to escape to somewhere white people were a minority, and simply pose as a married couple. Everyone there would be used to all white people looking the same, and thus not consider it strange. I even helped provide them with false identities and papers.

So yeah, I was pretty stupid. Not only did I let my insecurities convince me that they were anything less than a treasure, I also failed to realize that my role as the one person willing to accept their relationship without hesitation gave me a powerful hold over the both of them - easily equal to the monomanic obsession with me I usually cultivate in my conquests. The one bright point was the fact that I had provided them with their new identities myself - which meant that finding them again was just a matter of digging through a bunch of my old files, something which my masterful Secretary accomplished easily.

Once I had their cover-ID's in hand, finding them again wasn't terribly hard. They were, indeed, still living near where I'd sent them originally, in Nicaragua. They'd set up in a mid-sized city well away from the usual tourist-destinations, and were running a small produce-store, apparently. That much, a thorough internet-search could tell me. I could have called them at that point, but I thought it sensible to know a bit more before I made my move - it had, after all, been quite a few years since I'd last met them. So I hired a local P.I. and asked him to check up on them and report back.

He took a while to turn in his report, but it proved well worth the wait. None of their new neighbors had twigged to their true nature - nor did the P.I, which was fine by me - but said neighbors HAD noticed that they had a 'very passionate marriage'. The two of them were quite the popular subject of scandalous gossip, indeed. So clearly, their incestuous ardor hadn't cooled. However, there was another development - one that the P.I. presented with a triumphant air, clearly expecting it to be the reason I'd sent him in the first place.

Unbeknownst to their neighbors, The Brother had a profitable sideline going, working as a transsexual prostitute in the rougher side of town. Even though he was hardly a teen anymore, his pretty face and slim figure still lent itself well to women's clothes, and his blinding whiteness made him quite the exotic beauty down there. The P.I. had even managed to snap a couple of sneaky photographs, showing that - sure enough - The Brother looked quite the beauty with wig, makeup, and saucy lingerie. He also looked remarkably comfortable getting ass-fucked by a bulky Mexican, sucking off a thuggish-looking fellow, and jacking off two others besides - one in each hand. The P.I. assumed that his 'wife' didn't know about these activities, but I wondered about that... I'd managed to bring out quite a few minor kinks in both of them before we parted ways. Could be that, isolated as they had been, they'd continued to feed into each other, growing steadily.

So, I sent them a letter, carefully-worded, about my new estate. A refuge from a cruel world, where love was welcome in all its forms, free from society's arbitrary judgment! And, of course, the usual roads-are-paved-with-gold stuff that's lured people to travel thousands of miles in the hope of a better life since time immemorial. Easy days, love and peace, free food and shelter, all you have to do is help out around the house a bit... like a clean, luxurious hippie commune, right? So hey, if they'd gotten tired of sun and tropical fruits, there was a place here for them, amongst like-minded individuals who wouldn't judge them...

Frankly, I probably could've left it at the last bit - but you can't be too obvious when you're manipulating people. Soon enough, I got a reply back, stating that they would be happy to join us, but that it might take them a little while to scrape together the funds for a plane-ticket back to the states... I could've just sent them the money, or the tickets for that matter, but an intriguing idea had occurred to me in the meantime - so instead, I called an occasional associate of mine who was native to the region. And who, I knew, had a fondness for pretty boys. I gave him some suggestions, offered to comp him with a free stay at my 'resort' next time he was in the states, and asked him to send me pictures.

He did one better and sent me a video. The Brother, in his prettiest getup, kneeling on a straw-strewn floor... grimacing as a horny donkey (or should I say 'burro', out of respect for local culture?) mounted him and eagerly pounded his ass. Looking wide-eyed up at the camera as he obediently sucked the cameraman's cock. Despite his initial reluctance, he seemed to actually be getting quite into it by the end... well, right up to the point where, with a fresh grimace, he set about cleaning the donkey's cum-dripping, rapidly-softening tool with his tongue. Gave the camera a nice view of his gaping, worn-red asshole, too. Amazing what some people will do for money, no? Especially when there's something they really, really want, and someone conveniently offers them enough to get it if they'll just do a few things for them...

Shortly afterwards, they sent word that they'd had a surprising windfall of cash, and that they had booked a plane. I, of course, promised to pick them up from the airport, as any old friend would. We embraced in the airport, laughed and talked about how much we'd all grown. I told them that they still looked like teenagers, despite both being in their late 20's - which wasn't a lie - and they reassured me that no-one would guess I'd passed 40. On the long car-ride back to the estate, we talked about old times, and they told me all about what it had been like to live in Nicaragua for the last decade. Sexual subjects were carefully avoided by unspoken agreement. There'd be time enough for that later.

Once we reached the estate, I showed them the room I'd had prepared for them so that they could get rid of their (fairly minimal) luggage, and then gave them the guided tour I described at the outset - introducing them to each of the other residents, coaching the description of each woman in terms of someone whose desires were considered taboo by society, settling here to avoid persecution. I carefully avoided mentioning The Secretary's actual age, only remarking about how Asians sure tended to look younger than they were, huh? Well, considering their age when we first met, they were hardly in a position to complain about statutory rape laws...

Both of them were already rather hot under the collar when I led them back to their room so we could have a drink together and celebrate our reunion. The drinks I brought were, perhaps, a bit stronger than they appeared... except for mine. Inhibitions soon dropped, and combined with their obvious arousal after everything they'd seen in the mansion and the grounds, it wasn't hard to guide the conversation in the right direction. I didn't even have to suggest that we had another threesome, 'for old time's sake' - I just had to agree when The Sister brought it up.

Now, there were many ways I could've brought them solidly into my power, ensuring their cooperation and willing submission. Indeed, as soon as they made the trip and settled into my house, they were effectively mine to command - after all, if I threatened to turn them out, they'd have nowhere to go. Certainly nowhere they could be intimate without drawing attention to themselves. But such methods are short-sighted - and with more patience, I could've easily brought them around, seducing them to my side over the course of a few weeks. Ahh, but thanks to the P.I., my Latin-American associate, and a fairly solid bit of intuition, I figured there was a shortcut available to me. I could turn them both into my willing slaves,tonight.

So, as they stumbled towards the bed, I didn't guide them down with The Brother at the bottom and The Sister riding his hips, so that I could enter her from behind for a classic Double Penetration. It had been a standard formation back in the old days... and The Sister certainly never complained. Instead, however, I let them turn halfway around before stumbling unto the sheets, so that she was at the bottom, with him on top in something approximating a basic Missionary. They didn't seem to think about it - indeed, she eagerly spread her legs to give her brother easier access, and moaned lustily as he entered her. Their lips swiftly found each other, locking together in a very un-familial kiss. Clearly, the perverted love that bound them hadn't diminished noticeably over the years.

Standing behind them, I slipped on a rubber and lubed up. Hopefully, it won't surprise you to learn that every bedroom in the mansion has lube and condoms in the nightstand - hah! Now, I'm not generally a fan of rubbers - I prefer the feel of bareback, particularly the possessive element of shooting my seed deeply into a waiting orifice, be it ever so sterile. But, well... The Brother HAD been acting as a prostitute in Central America until recently, and the two of them clearly didn't use any protection when sleeping with each other, so I wasn't taking any chance with either until The Nurse'd had time to run a full STD-screen on them, and killed whatever bugs they might've accumulated.

Looking at them, there on the bed, I couldn't help but notice that The Brother kept his entire scrotum shaved clean - matching his sister's equally hairless snatch. No idea whether his lack of ass-hairs was due to similar care, or just a genetic trait - I could easily believe either. Regardless, it made an interesting sight - looking between their legs, it was hard to tell where one sibling ended and another began. But, just watching wouldn't accomplish anything... so instead, I climbed up behind them and grabbed The Brother by the hair, pulling his head back. He made no move to resist as I guided my dick into his ass, finding it every bit as hot and tight as any girl's. And he moaned just as sweetly, to boot - though I dunno if that's normal, or just him instinctively getting into character. Leaning over him, I growled into his ear as I started to roughly fuck him, telling him how I'd always wanted to claim his sissy ass for myself, how the rules of the Hunter's Retreat forbade any male residents other than myself, but I'd invited him anyway 'cuz I knew he wasn't a real man.

Underneath us, The Sister moaned and arched her back in orgasm, her eyes fixed on my face, her mouth forming an ecstatic O. The Brother wasn't far behind - I could feel his ass contract around me as he shot his load into his sister's eager snatch. They kept moving, however, with my thrusts adding power to his, and The Sister shuddering as she received our combined passion. Her face eagerly rose to meet mine as I pulled her brother's head aside and craned my neck to taste her lips, and her kiss was as passionate as any I've sampled.

At the time, I was still only intuiting the shape of their shared perversion - it took some time before I could fully comprehend the sheer twistedness of their desires. Neither one of them was all that much into submission, really - however, both of them enjoyed seeing the other submit sexually. And they also both enjoyed pleasuring the other. As such, their perversions fed into one another, creating a sort of kinky feedback-loop - both of them seeking submission in order to give pleasure to the other twin, and in the process, gaining pleasure from doing so. While living in Nicaragua, the need to keep a low profile had sharply limited their options in that regard - and The Brother's career was their combined answer. If a wife went out at night on her own, people would talk... if it was the husband, well, not so much. No doubt, they'd spent many a pleasurable night rutting together as he recounted, in every filthy detail, the depraved acts he had performed, with both of them imagining his Johns there in bed with them both.

It didn't matter that we hadn't seen one another in a decade. It didn't matter that I'd never shown any interest in The Brother back then. I doubt they'd care even if I told them that those lustful whispers had been nothing more than lies. I'd finally given them the reality of their filthy fantasies, and they loved me for it. By the time I reached my orgasm and pulled out, they were as eagerly pliable as girls I'd spent years gradually brainwashing into submission. On my order, The Sister merrily moved to lick her brothers freshly-fucked ass, while he stripped the soiled condom off my cock with his mouth. He eagerly stuck out his tongue as I squeezed the contents out into his mouth and then, without any order from me, the two of them moved sinuously together in order to share my load in a sloppy, cum-swapping kiss - nevermind the taste of his own ass being fresh on her lips.

Indeed, they were wholly mine from that moment on, and by my 'suggestion', The Brother changed his look a bit. He let his hair grow out and wore it in the same fashion as his sister, disposing of the wigs he'd used before. He matched her in clothes and makeup, as well as erotic lingerie, and kept his voice feminine and sweet. As I'd expected, once he put in the effort (and some padding in his bra - though, not even that much was needed, since she wasn't all that stacked either) the two of them became virtually impossible to tell apart without checking under the short, tight skirts they both wore. The other residents soon started referring to them simply as 'The Twins', for ease's sake - which worked just fine, since they never seemed to be apart. They even went to the bathroom together...

By the time The Nurse had given them the all-clear - and yes, they HAD picked up a couple of things, though fortunately nothing incurable... no idea if they just got lucky, or if The Brother was more careful than I had expected - I was quite eager to see where else we could go with the twin pretties. For starters, I encouraged them to explore the signature kinks of the other residents, and found them to be quite flexible in that regard. What little hesitation they might have had about stuff like ass-to-mouth and rimming vanished quickly, and it wasn't hard to get them into pee-drinking either. After all, the odd properties of their shared kink meant that they favored visible, demonstrative acts of submission. They even put their own twist on it - sharing mouthfuls of hot piss in sloppy, urine-dripping make-out sessions, just like they tended to do whenever either one of them sucked an oral load out of someone.

The masochistic pleasures of the torture-chamber didn't catch on quite as well. They were happy to spice things up with a light spanking or some reasonably merciful clamps, and The Brother submitted to mild CBT without objection, but it was clear their interests didn't go beyond that. They didn't mind helping out around the house with practical tasks, either, but they didn't get the same sexual thrill from it as The Maid...

The animalistic appeal of the kennels and the stables, however, found fertile ground. Which I already knew, of course, what with the burro and all. Having the two of them on all fours before me, working together to orally pleasure me, was great fun to start with - their tongues dancing along my shaft, an eager mouth sucking on my hairy ballsack while another swallowed my glans, both of them frequently intersecting in cock-flavored kisses with my shaft in the middle - it got even better when both of them had a horny hound on their backs, enthusiastically knotting them.

By the time the end-of-the-month 'party' drew near, the two of them were perfectly ready to service whoever I sent their way, in whatever way he or she might like. And why wouldn't they? It hardly mattered who it was, since the object of their desires was always in arm's reach regardless. My hold over them was not that of the dominant lover, not really - but rather, the provider who had enabled them to fully explore that particular kink. Whether it was me or somebody else banging one while the other watched didn't matter to them one whit.

I had expected them to be popular, but the truth outstripped even those lofty expectations. Several past guests had complained that, for all the pleasures of the flesh on offer at the Hunter's Retreat, it seemed a shame there were no pretty young boys. Now that one was finally available - and such a beautiful cross-dresser at that, looking ever-so-fine standing next to his identical twin sister - the requests came in thick and hard. Even if I switched them between four different guests during the weekend, which was pushing it as it were, many of my 'customers' would be going home disappointed.

So I proposed an... alternative to them. One of the interested guests was picked by lottery, and got to spend a full day and night with The Twins' undivided attention. On Sunday, however, The Brother was bent over one of the estate's many rape-racks, set up in the common-room, with his skirt bunched around his waist. A line formed as the guests took turn - including many women armed with hefty strap-ons - while The Sister stood by as a fluffer, using her mouth and tongue to lubricate the guests before they visited her brother's asshole. The Toilet had been brought down from the bathroom for the occasion and was chained nearby, ready to clean the guests' cocks afterwards, and provide relief for anyone standing in line, should they need it.

The event was a great success. Some wit had placed a measuring-cup underneath The Brother to catch the cum dripping from his own, clean-shaven dick, and it was nearly half full by the time the guests finally tired of running a train on his ass. His asshole gaped worse than it had done after the donkey, by the end - his sphincter swollen and red from the constant wear and tear. Cum dripped freely from the pulsating orifice, to be caught in a strategically-placed bucket next to the measuring-cup. The Sister, meanwhile, was literally leaving a trail of sweet, pungent juices as she moved, feverishly aroused by the sight. Taking pity on her, I bent her over and shoved her face into her brother's gaping asshole, instructing her to soothe the worn-raw tissue with her tongue while I pounded her pussy. I think she came something like three times in five minutes, and The Brother somehow managed to produce one more diminutive spunk-load during her impassioned rimming, to boot.

Afterwards, things returned to their normal pace - except, it seemed, The Twins' sex-drive. The experience appeared to have supercharged it permanently, and it became a common sight to catch the two of them fucking against a wall in the hallway, or one of them leaning against a windowsill as the other kneeled beneath it, orally pleasuring them. I made a habit of walking up behind them whenever I saw either of those events, rub some spit over my dickhead, and unceremoniously ass-fuck whichever twin had their back to me as I pushed them both against the wall. Then let the other twin clean my cock for me before moving on. This, notably, did not decrease the number of incidents.

Now, it's worth mentioning that I've never thought of myself as gay... or, for that matter, bisexual. Rather, I've found that with growing age and wisdom, I've stopped worrying about such labels. When I see a tight ass poking out from under a short skirt, I wanna fuck it - and that's all there is to it. So what if the person that ass belongs to is currently getting his cock sucked by his twin sister? It's all good... and like I said earlier, he moans as sweetly as any girl.

Anyway, The Twins' insatiable appetite made me realize that there was still something missing from the trophy-rack of my retirement-cottage. Everyone there except for me was a submissive, to a greater or lesser degree, and staying on top of that many subs is a bit exhausting - even if some of them managed to mostly look after themselves. Basically, what I needed was a 'lieutenant', of sorts. Someone who could dom in my place, but would still submit to me. And I knew just the person for the job...

Obviously, I've always targeted submissive women - or encouraged submission in those who lacked an alignment. But one time, some years ago, I somehow decided that it might be fun to try and dominate a domme. As a result of that idea, I wound up in a somewhat-brief relationship with an actual dominatrix - from the top. She was a 'switch' - that is, someone who enjoys both domming and subbing, depending on circumstances. In her case, she preferred domming women and 'sissy boys', and submitting to 'real men'. The definition of 'real man' versus 'sissy boy' was, however, somewhat vague and fluid, and much dependent on her mood - or at least, so it seemed to me at the time.

Basically, being in a relationship with her was downright stressful - I had to act with suitable authority at all times, staying clearly and unquestionably in charge, just to prevent her from starting to look at me the wrong way. 'The wrong way', in this case, meaning 'while licking her lips and thoughtfully twirling a riding-crop'. So I ended our relationship, careful so as not to leave any hard feelings. I don't burn bridges if I can help it - you never know when you'll need a favor from an old friend, after all. A policy that has proven itself splendidly, if I do say so myself.

A quick info-search revealed that she was still working the dominatrix-circuit... and a slightly deeper search showed me the lever I could use to move her. I didn't have any real, mental hold on her - yes, she'd subbed to me, back then, but it had always been conditional. It didn't give me any real grip on her. So I'd have to approach her with care - establishing myself as the dominant party, to a more significant degree than I'd ever managed back then. The weak-spot I'd found would help with that, but it wouldn't do by itself. Money can buy you many things - including a woman's body, with or without corset and whip - but it can't buy loyalty.

My search, you see, indicated that while a moderately successful Dominatrix, she was only just barely managing to pay the bills. I suspect her lack of any kind of gimmick (she was very much an old-school, classic-flavored Dominatrix, with all the usual trimmings) and by-now somewhat flagging youth, was what had relegated her to 'moderately successful'... and while that brought in a decent payday, it wasn't quite as profitable as it had been years ago. Meanwhile, expenses had only gone up - including her rent. So however much she might have acted like an empress at work, she came home to a small apartment with a wonderful view of a concrete wall... and it didn't seem like there was any man in her life, either. I knew from back then that, while she certainly enjoyed casual relationships with women (involving some very nasty strap-on dildos), she only really looked for serious relationships with Real Men. And unsurprisingly, most Real Men don't seek out relationships with a pro Dominatrix.

So... I could offer her a real upgrade in her living-situation. And the 'business' was running well enough that I could afford to _pay_her to move in. But that wasn't how I wanted to play it. I probably wouldn't be able to turn her into a proper devotee, but at the very least, I wanted to bring her on board by sheer force of personality, and not just by throwing money at her. Call it personal pride... or even just the refusal to back down from a challenge, be it ever so self-imposed.

This time, a letter wouldn't do it. So I left my Secretary in charge for a few days, and headed for the city. On the way, I called up a contact of mine and made some preparations, which were ready by the time I arrived. With a clear plan in mind, I thus booked an appointment at the 'club' she worked at, and requested her by name. (And, yes, I had to dig into some old correspondence to find her name. Told ya, I don't remember them once they aren't the subject of my current pursuit anymore. Whatever - now, she's just The Dominatrix.)

And so, I soon found myself walking into a cozy little dungeon, pulling off my jacket and making a last-minute check on my smartphone to ensure that everything was ready. An inconspicuous camera hung in the corner of the room, over a rack of punishment-tools that wouldn't have looked out of place back in the torture-room at my mansion. I'll admit to feeling just a hint of nervousness about the situation - but at the same time, also a shade of that familiar thrill-of-the-chase. I was pouncing instead of chasing this time, but still - I'd be bringing down a prey that had once escaped me, and it'd probably be my last hunt regardless.

She walked in, looking smashing in her jet-black lingerie, tight leather corset, thigh-high stockings, 5-inch metal-spike heels and black lace gloves reaching up past her elbows. She didn't recognize me immediately. Well, it HAD been years, and she had no reason to suspect that an old lover might pop up as a client at the bondage-club where she worked. As soon as the door closed behind her, before she could start into her "Kneel before your Queen, pig!" routine, I closed the distance between us and slammed her up against the door, pinning both of her wrists and covering her lips with my own even as she opened her mouth to protest.

I was pushing her ass up against the door with my groin, hard enough that she'd be able to feel the bulge in my trousers though the sheer fabric of her black silk panties. She struggled against me, trying to push a leg between us so she could knee me, while also trying to catch my lips with her teeth. A fighter, certainly. Suddenly, I backed away, pivoting on one foot, letting her struggle carry her forwards and off-balance, then quickly stepping in behind her even as I grabbed her by the upper arm and pulled her back against me.

One arm wrapped around her body, pinning both arms. The other, diagonal across her chest, between her corset-accentuated tits to grab her by the neck and hold her head in place. The bulge in my trousers was pushing against her buttocks now. She stamped on my feet, trying to weaponize her stiletto-heels - which didn't take much doing. But I'd come prepared - I knew her favored footwear. And my own shoes, while normal-looking, was certified safety-shoes, reinforced with steel and designed to withstand construction-accidents. Her heels struck sparks, and little else.

Before she could formulate a new plan of attack or start screaming loud enough for it to be audible even through the sound-insulated dungeon-walls, I pulled her head back against my own and gently nibbled on one of her earlobes. She froze in her tracks. The earlobes were her special, secret weak-point. Certainly, she'd never reveal it to anyone but a proper dominant... how many had there been other than me? Didn't matter. That simple act redefined the context of our circumstances in a split second.

I chuckled next to her ear, before whispering. "How you struggle, my dear... why so reluctant? I know what you want. What you really_want. What you haven't been getting for far too long." The breath caught in her throat as she recognized my voice - or possibly my word-choices. "You! It's been... what are you _doing_here?" She asked, breathing hard as her body began to relax after the tension of our struggle. I could already feel the muscles of her back begin to soften, her body leaning against me without resistance. Still, I maintained my grip. "What do you _think_I'm doing here?" I whispered back. "I've come here to bend you over and fuck you 'till you beg for mercy. To remind you what it feels like to be writhing under a _real man, instead of these drooling boys you surround yourself with every day."

She moaned slightly, and I felt her hips flex back against mine, her ass caressing my hard-on through the coarse fabric of my trousers. "Christ... it's been so long..." she breathed. "But... I can't... not here... we're not allowed to have sex with the customers! It's against the rules... and illegal, I think..." I laughed, and suddenly pushed her away so that she stumbled up against the bondage-frame that stood in the middle of the room. "Rules? Laws? The only rules you should care about are mine. The only law is my word. And I'm telling you to bend over and pull your panties aside before I flog you bloody."

She moaned again, leaning against the frame, and I saw her throw a suddenly-thoughtful look towards the camera in the corner. Never mind sex - security should've been kicking down the door the moment I grabbed her. That's what the cameras are for - protecting the girls from overly-amorous customers, who don't know the difference between a Dominatrix and a whore. But no-one had come. That was, of course, because an associate of mine had hacked into the club's security-system, and was currently treating whoever was on camera-duty to a replay of a lengthy session she'd had with a guy who kinda-sorta looked like me if you don't look too closely, a couple of weeks ago. But she didn't know that. From her perspective, I'd invaded a place that had been a familiar sanctuary for years, and somehow trumped all law and logic there just with my will. Imagine someone walking into an office, throwing a secretary down over a desk and telling her to hike up her skirt so he can rape her, while everybody else just continue working like nothing's happened, and you've got some idea of how it must've felt for her.

I let the flat of my hand fall across her buttocks, three times in rapid succession. I usually prefer to use tools for spanking, but I can deliver quite a stinging blow with my bare hands when the occasion calls for it, too. I wasn't holding back, either - she yelped in surprise, her ass-cheeks jiggling from the impact, already reddening. "Didn't you hear me? Or have you forgotten your Master's voice? Stop thinking and just _ obey! _" I growled. Whimpering, all trace of the confident, imperious Queen of the Bondage-Dungeon gone, she bent at the waist, leaning her upper body against the sturdy bondage-frame, and reached back one shaking hand to pull the sheer fabric of her panties aside... showing a sopping-wet, and rather hairy, pussy. She'd clearly maintained a Brazilian, just so nothing peeked out from her panty-line, but hadn't bothered beyond that.

Pulling down my fly and releasing my rock-hard cock from the constraints of my pants, I sighed loudly and stepped up behind her, grabbing her hips as I pushed into her waiting pussy. In one smooth move, I impaled her fully, grinding my fly against her labia and my belt against her reddened buttocks, making it clear that I hadn't even bothered to take off my pants before mounting her. "Sloppy, sloppy..." I growled as I began to fuck her with long, powerful strokes. "No longer taking care of your appearance, are you? You_know_ I will have to punish you for this." Back when we had been together, part of my 'domming' of her had involved ordering her to shave her pussy for me. Obviously, I couldn't reasonably expect her to have continued to do so in the years hence... but that was hardly the issue. It was a matter of setting the tone. And judging from the shuddering moan that answered me, I had succeeded at that.

She came twice before I managed to reach an orgasm myself, and it wasn't as if I was trying to hold it back. I mentally adjusted my best guess as to how long it had been since she'd last had a dominant lover back by another year or so. By the time I shot my load in her, her legs were shaking badly - but she still maintained the pose I had ordered her into when I pulled out. At least, she remembered enough to know better than to abandon it without my leave. One hand was still holding her panties aside, despite it having been repeatedly squeezed between her ass and my hips. Pursing my lips, I lifted my juice-soaked cockhead a bit higher than where it had previously been, rubbing it lightly against her sphincter. I could see her stiffen as I did so, her rapid breathing catching in her throat for a moment, and her legs subtly shifted, moving further apart so as to lower her hips and provide a suitable angle for an ass-reaming.

Then I stepped back, shaking my head. "No... you haven't earned that, not yet. Not until you've taken your punishment." Her breathing accelerated again as I said that, and she emitted an almost canine whine. "Go bend over the whipping-rack while I pick a suitable implement..." I snapped out the order in my best command-voice, and she jumped into action like she'd been electrified. The whipping-rack was basically a waist-high, padded bar, set into a framework of possible attachment-points - ideal for bending somebody over for a good paddlin'.

I didn't bother to strap her down, though - once I'd picked out my weapon (something I had, of course, given plenty of thought to before I even got there), I simply put her hands on a suitable cross-bar, and told her that if she let go of it, she would have failed to endure her punishment, and I would have to start all over again from the top. Shuddering, she nodded, her hands closing on the metal bar hard enough to make her knuckles stand out white. She didn't seem to be worrying much about the camera anymore.

The tool I'd picked was a Rattan Cane - that classic tool of schoolroom discipline from the good ol' days. While capable of inflicting significant pain when swung with full force, what really made it stand out were the clear, unmistakable marks it left. With a deft touch, I pulled her panties down as far as they would go - which was only to the top of her thigh-high stockings, what with the garter-belt being in the way. But far enough - between the garters, her ass and drooling, freshly-fucked pussy were fully exposed.

I'm quite proficient in wielding a cane, and demonstrated as much at that point. Strokes of steadily-escalating force rained down on her buttocks and thighs, covering them in a patchwork of bright-red lines. Considering her 'uniform', there was no way she'd be able to conceal them when she left the room - if any of her colleagues were in the changing-room, they'd get an eyeful... and considering their shared profession, they'd obviously know exactly what those marks signified. Towards the end, I let a few strokes whip across her cunt-lips as well, eliciting gasps from her every time. The final blow came from below - the tip just clearing her dangling panties to whip into her slit, full-length, with enough force to send out a spray of slick juices from the impact-point. A yelp of pain rose from her throat as her body shuddered from the pain - but her hands remained tightly wrapped around the crossbar.

Discarding the cane, I stepped up behind her and ran a caressing hand over the red welts covering her rear. The vigorous punishment had served to harden my cock afresh, and I was quite ready to dispense her 'reward'. "Well done, my dear... well done. You have my forgiveness, and have earned the pleasure you desire." She shuddered as I pushed into her punishment-swollen pussy, but made no protest - she knew what I was doing, and her juices had never stopped flowing while I caned her. When I pulled out, I was thoroughly lubricated.

Her ass resisted my entrance, her sphincter tight against my cockhead... but with a grunt and a firm grip on her hip, I forced it to relent. Clearly, it had been a while since that hole had seen any action - which made sense. She'd never do anal with anyone but a proper manly-man dom. Paying no attention to the pain my sudden entry had to have caused, I proceeded to fuck her asshole roughly and thoroughly, this time grinding my pants against the sensitized tissue of her freshly-caned ass. Underneath me, she shuddered and bucked, body shaking at the powerful sensations.

She wasn't about to cum, though - oh no. She didn't enjoy anal sex in the least - couldn't get anal orgasms at all. Which had, of course, made it the perfect symbol of domination and submission for her. Anal sex meant accepting pain and discomfort for the sake of pleasuring her Master, basically. Turning it into a reward - something she had to_earn_ - only magnified the mental impact. She couldn't cum with her ass, but as I leaned over her and let my free hand caress her dangling tits, her full lips, and her surprisingly-sensitive earlobes, she somehow did manage to cum from some strange combination of mild masochism and sheer joy of submission.

By the time I blew my load and pulled out, she was thoroughly in sub-space... y'know, that trance-like, highly-suggestible mindset that submissives are known to reach under the right circumstances? I know she was, because she neither protested nor hesitated when I told her to tongue-clean my cock. I'd never gotten her to do stuff like that last time we were together, and I couldn't imagine that she'd somehow gotten used to it with some other lover. Regardless, once my tool had been cleaned, I stuffed it back in my pants and pulled her down with me to sit in a corner, holding her tight while I waited for her to come back to the surface. Aftercare, y'know? Yes, I do know about stuff like that, and do it - when it suits my purposes. After all, pushing her into full submission would hardly serve my plan in this case, would it?

After her breathing had calmed down and her eyes had started focusing again, she finally groaned and shifted uncomfortably - as if she'd just realized that her rather sore bottom was resting against my leg. "Damn... it really had been too long..." she mumbled, leaning back against me. "Still dunno how you pulled it off, but I can't deny I needed that..." I grinned, running a hand through her hair. "Had a hard time finding another guy like me since we parted ways, have you?" She barked with laughter. "Hah! Like you? Not hardly. There's been other men, sure, but... not like you. They all had to work for it. You made it look easy." She was right about that, of course. I made it look easy. And there was really no reason to tell her how much I had stressed out over maintaining that constant aura of dominion while I was around her.

"Well, no worries... I'm back now." I said, firmly, pulling her in tighter. She moaned slightly, then shook her head. "So you are, but... I dunno what to do 'bout that..." Chuckling, I pushed my head up next to hers, making her shiver as she felt my hot breath on her neck. "Don't be silly. All you have to do is listen and obey. Just do as I tell you, and everything will work out splendidly." "I wish it was really that simple..." she mumbled. It sounded like she was struggling against something. "Maybe it was, back then. But reality has a tendency to intervene."

Laughing, I delivered a quick bite to her earlobe, sending fresh shivers of desire through her. "Reality, huh? It's always seemed to me that people are too quick to use that as an excuse to accept mediocrity. The world is the way it is, so the best you can hope for is a tiny apartment and a job you don't hate too much. 's that it?" She gritted her teeth. "Seems that way." I sighed. "I don't remember you being such a slow learner. Tell me - can someone, in this 'reality' of yours, walk into a room in a bondage-club, manhandle the dominatrix, then bend her over and fuck her silly, without any repercussions?"

She stiffened a bit, and I saw her eyes rise towards the camera on the ceiling again. "...no." her voice was bemused. Uncertain. I had her now. "Indeed. And yet, that happened. So the way I see it, you've got a choice... you can stay here, in your 'reality', and go back to your tiny apartment and the stack of bills waiting there. Or you can come with me, and tell 'reality' to go fuck itself. There's another life waiting for you. A life of ease and sensual pleasure. A spacious room, good food, lots of sweet, submissive women... and one very pretty sissy-boy... all just waiting for you. No more bills, no more taxes, no more intruding 'reality'." I gave her earlobe a quick caress with my lips before continuing. "And anytime you get a bit too uppity... I'll be there to remind you of your place. Slamming you up against the wall. Filling your ass. Marking your hide."

She shuddered, back arching against me. "Oh... that sounds like a dream... if it could really be that way..." With a final laugh, I pushed her off me, and got to my feet. "Well, then. Pull up your panties, and go tell your boss that you quit. Mooning her is optional. Then go back to that crappy apartment of yours, and pack your bags. I'll take you straight to that dream - no looking back." She blinked up at me, then looked down as if she'd only just realized that her panties were still hanging between her thighs, and clambered somewhat-unsteadily to her feet to pull them up. "You're... actually serious, aren't you?" she asked hesitantly, and I nodded. "Yep. I've established a sort of... refuge, for people whose sexual tastes run to the deviant, the taboo... a place to indulge yourself without anyone passing judgment. Well, I say 'people', but mostly it's just girls. All submissives. Staying on top of them all - so to speak - is proving a tad challenging." Smirking, I lifted an eyebrow and offered her my hand. "So, what I need is someone who knows how to keep a bunch of horny subbie-girls happy, whether by the riding-crop or the strap-on. Room and board is included, and the weather's much nicer than here!"

In short, she took my hand. And she went right in and quit her job, ignoring her colleagues' stares as they saw the cane-marks on her butt and thighs. She canceled her lease, packed what little she had that was worth bringing, and joined me for the trip back to the Hunter's Retreat. Along the way, I explained the nitty-gritty - she'd be able to freely indulge herself, 28 days out of 30. A single weekend every month, she'd have to be 'professional' and make her best effort. She was quite on-board with that. "A personal room in a mansion, with a fully-equipped torture-room and plenty of easy girls to play with... no rent, free food... and all for just two days' work per month? Even if you're exaggerating monstrously, that's still an amazing deal."

As you know, I wasn't exaggerating - and The Dominatrix soon integrated into the estate with ease. The Secretary had, indeed, managed to keep things from falling apart in my absence, though I had certainly been missed. Leaving a bunch of subs without a dom to keep order is just asking for a dozen petty arguments to break out... nothing I couldn't quell as soon as I was back, though. Anyway, needless to say, The Painslut was particularly ecstatic to have her around - the two of them got on like a house on fire. Which is to say, there was lots of screaming and bodily injury involved.

My main concern, however, was that her presence - and her collection of variously-textured, variously-sized strap-ons - provided The Twins with a fresh outlet for their appetites. And she certainly proved just as eager to work them over as I'd expected. Not long after The Dominatrix had settled in, the two of us combined forces to give The Twins a really good seeing-to... sitting face-to-face, we each had one of them sitting on our laps, with one impaled on my cock and the other mounted on a knobbly dildo firmly attached to The Dominatrix' groin. As we bounced them up and down on our respective tools, using their arms - tied together behind their backs - as handholds, they shared passionate kisses in the air between us, their faces mashed together by the force of our thrusts. A bit later, we had them down on the bed in a sixty-nine position while we continued to ass-fuck them both, occasionally switching to the nearest mouth for a cleaning and fresh application of lubricating spit. The Brother proved just as eager to lick the taste of his sister's ass off my cock as she had been for his...

Indeed, just as planned, she naturally gravitated towards the less self-reliant of the resident girls. The Bitch didn't require much care, beyond regular food- and water-bowl refills and a petting here and there, The Cowgirl was quite happy just spending her days caring for the barnyard animals (and bucking beneath them), The Toilet seemed content to live out her life as a piece of bathroom furniture, The Nurse generally had enough 'customers' every week to keep her desires sated, and of course The Animal was about as low-maintenance as it was possible for a human being to be. The rest, however, required regular exercises of domination to maintain their happiness, particularly The Painslut with her endless appetite for punishment, and The Twin's unleashed sexual appetites.

However, The Maid also enjoyed being occasionally 'rewarded' for her service - something The Dominatrix did with aplomb. It soon wasn't unusual to find The Maid bent over the laundry-cart, the kitchen counter, or some side-table she'd been dusting, while The Dominatrix pounded her pussy with a fat strap-on, fondling her tits at the same time and whispering to her about how she clearly wanted this, with the way she was showing off her naughty underwear. The habitual answer was a "Yes, My Lady... thank you, My Lady..." interspersed with various high-pitched moans.

Meanwhile, she also apparently figured out that while The Fuckpig generally seemed happy to just wallow in the mud with her fellow porcines, she had a deep desire for proper domination - one that could, perhaps, have been fulfilled by a boar trained to the same degree as ol' Blackie, but we didn't exactly have a critter like that on hand. So The Dominatrix stepped in instead. She'd visit The Fuckpig at the pigsty at least once a day, and usually had some suitably nasty task in mind for her. Ass-fucking her violently while she sucked off a succession of horny boars was about the least of it. A more creative approach of hers was to put on a suitably thin strap-on and then go to town on the couple of sows we had, or even sodomize some of the boars (who seemed surprisingly okay with it), while having The Fuckpig act as her 'fluffer', licking her strap-on clean between each pig. The reward for this service was, of course, a strap-on dicking in her uber-tight pussy from her generous Mistress... usually while she had her face pushed into the freshly-fucked cunt of one of the sows, licking eagerly.

And then there was The Secretary... I'd been a bit concerned about introducing the two of them, but surprisingly, they got along splendidly. I'm still not sure if The Dominatrix was less concerned about screwing around with minors than I'd expected, or if she just ate up my 'those Asians sure do look young, huh?' spiel more easily than most. Regardless, she sensed exactly what The Secretary was missing, despite getting the lion's share of my attention, and stepped into the role of a surrogate older sister... which, in this case, obviously meant lots of lesbian sex. She proved surprisingly apt even without her strap-on, sending The Secretary into paroxysms of pleasure with her tongue and fingers alone, and easily compelling the young girl to return the favor.

When it came to entertaining guests, she proved surprisingly popular, considering her mediocre performance as a pro Dominatrix in the big city. Perhaps because I marketed her as an optional add-on - someone you could invite to your room along with another girl for a little extra. Many of my regulars had favorites among the girls, and were eager to spice up their night with a familiar face by throwing in a strap-on wielding Dominatrix - it enabled many new and interesting positions, after all, as I well knew. Double-penetration, spit-roasting, even something like doing a two-dicks-in-one-hole trick on the more widely-stretched girls. Once I'd whispered to a few select customers about how she tended to lose her dominant mien when faced with a suitably manly man, however, she also got a number of solo-requests... I guess the dream of dominating a Dominatrix wasn't something unique to me!

Of course, while she'd certainly eased my workload, I had a promise to keep - and I made it a habit to pull her aside every couple of weeks in order to slam her against the wall and give her a rough reaming, pulling on her hair, pinching her nipples, and just generally reminding her who the Big Boss was. I also kept an eye out for any mistakes or infractions she made - she had, of course, started to shave her cunt regularly since moving in, but a sharp eye and a creative mind can find a lot to complain about. Any infraction was, after all, an excuse to invade her own territory - the torture-dungeon - and go to town on her with one of her own whips, floggers, or canes. Not only was this an effective way of keeping her happy, but seeing the clear marks I left on her also reminded the girls she entertained over the next couple of days that however forceful The Dominatrix was, there was someone above her.

So, these days, this is what my daily routine looks like... I'll wake up in the morning to the sensation of a soft pair of teenage lips caressing my morning-wood, persevering until I've emptied both my balls and my bladder down The Secretary's thirsty throat. Once I get out of bed and get dressed - usually in loose shorts that can be easily pulled down when needed - I head downstairs to the kitchen and eat some breakfast while listening to The Maid moan as The Dominatrix vigorously screws her against the kitchen counter.

I then head out to the kennel to refill food- and water-bowls, taking the time to pet Blackie and The Bitch as they rut together amongst the many other horn-dogs. There are others who could care for the kennels instead, but I always liked dogs, so I prefer to handle that personally. Then, I head over to the barn and spend some time watching The Cowgirl and The Fuckpig hard at work on their daily routine. Watching The Fuckpig's belly expand as her womb accumulates load after load of pig-cum, and The Cowgirl gush torrents of horse-cum from her gaping ass after a lengthy ride is always entertaining!

The Secretary joins me once she's finished her morning paperwork, and I quickly push her up against the wall of one of the stalls, lifting her skirt and dipping my cock in her drooling pussy to lubricate it before I ream her ass. She moans and shudders under me, and obediently cleans my dick when I'm done. Returning to the house, with her by my side, I then spot The Twins fucking in a corner, with The Sister mashed up against the wall as her brother eagerly uses her wet pussy. I instruct The Secretary to suck my cock back to life, applying a good layer of spit in the process, and then step up behind them. The Brother's skirt is already pooled around his waist, so I just put a hand on his shoulder and penetrate him from behind without warning.

He moans in a high, girlish pitch and starts kissing his sister with renewed passion, while The Secretary - acting on her own initiative - slips underneath all our legs and start sucking on his taut, hairless ballsack. He cums twice, shooting his seed into The Sister's waiting pussy, before I'm sated - I can tell from the way his prostate seems to pulse next to my shaft each time. Once I've shot my load, I pull out, spin him around and bend him over so that he can suck me clean himself, while his sister kneels down behind him with a grin and starts digging her tongue into his asshole, licking up my cum. The Secretary, still seated where she was before, now wraps her lips around The Brother's juice-dripping cock and starts sucking on that instead.

Once I'm satisfied my cock is clean, I move on, suggesting to my Secretary that she spends a bit of time unwinding with the twins before she goes back to work. As I turn the corner, I see her standing between them, moaning as one of them licks her pussy and the other tongues her ass. Their skirts have slipped back down, so I can't tell who is who. Heading to the small cupboard that houses The Animal, I pull her out of there and put on her lead, to take her for a little walk around the place - just for the exercise. She follows the pull of the lead automatically, crawling along behind me on her hands and knees, both padded for the purpose.

I head down to the dungeon to see how its regular residents are getting along. The Dominatrix is there, busily working up a sweat as she whips The Painslut, who's been hung up by her ankles with her legs spread. Angry red welts cover her groin, with the occasional fresh mark standing out on her belly and tits as well. She's panting and moaning into a black ball-gag, eyes rolled back in her head. I watch them for a bit, pulling my cock out so that The Animal can deepthroat it, breath whistling from the tube set into her collar as she eagerly enfolds my full length in her mouth and throat.

Once I feel properly hardened, I push her off and walk up behind The Dominatrix, grabbing her whip-arm as she raises it for another strike and pulling her back against me. She struggled a bit, proforma, but as she feels my wet cock press up against her ass-crack, she moans and softens against me. Pushing my dick into her tight ass, I let her set the pace otherwise - flexing her hips to push it deeper, moving against me, while I take the whip from her lax fingers and continue where she left off, whipping the wide-eyed Painslut. I tug on The Animal's lead, and she crawls up behind me, nose wrinkling as she follows the scent of sex. Her nose soon finds my ass-crack, and her tongue drills into my ass with the ease of long practice.

Between her tongue and The Dominatrix leaning forwards with her hands on her knees and her legs widely spread as she pumps her hips back against me, I don't last very long despite my recent activities. Filling her ass with my cum, I whisper sweet nothings to her about the hot tightness enfolding my cock, making her moan in appreciation of the compliment. I replace the whip in her hand as I step back, pulling out, and let The Animal switch her attention to licking me clean once more - before also letting her lap up the worst of the mess pooled around The Dominatrix' slightly-gaping asshole.

Afterwards, I walk back down to the stables, still with The Animal in tow. The Cowgirl turns out to be absent, and the horses antsy as a result. I attach The Animal to a mating-rack and remove the large dildos attached to her crotch-harness, then let some of the jumpier stallions work off some energy in her gaping holes. The forearm-sized horsecocks easily sink into either of the available orifices to the root, while she bears up under their violent rutting wordlessly, her only reaction a slight shudder. I leave her there for the stallions while I head inside for some lunch.

I have The Maid suck me off under the table while I eat a sandwich. Just about when I finish, The Painslut shows up for lunch as well, her lower body covered with whipmarks. She winces and shivers slightly when she sits down on her special chair - the one with the solid-metal seat that can be cooled, heated or electrified based on settings. Currently, it's electrified, and she occasionally twitches as The Maid hand-feeds her. As I depart the table, I notice her spreading her legs and leaning forwards while she eats, trying to bring her wet pussy into better contact with the sparking metal-surface.

Before heading back outside I stop by the bathroom, and find The Twins standing closely together as they pee in unison, skirts hitched up, their combined streams nearly making The Toilet's mouth overflow despite frequent swallowing. I wait for my turn behind them, and watch as they finish nigh-simultaneously. The Toilet's tongue dances as she cleans dickhead and pussy alike of any urine-remnants. Together, The Twins then sink to their knees and push their heads together to engage The Toilet in a sloppy, three-way tongue-kiss. She lets her mouth hang open, freely letting them explore her oral cavity with their tongues until they're satisfied.

After letting The Toilet drink down the contents of my bladder, I head back outside to collect The Animal. I find her where I left her, cum drooling freely from both of her rear holes - though neither one of them gape noticeably more than they always do, I can tell she's been repeatedly mounted while I was gone. The stallions, having worked off their excess energy, calmly return to their stalls at my prompting, and I replace The Animal's dildos in their designated holes, sealing in several loads of horse-cum. I then walk her around to each stall so that she can lick clean the various horse-cocks - now hanging limp and wet under the stallions' bellies - and kiss their assholes 'to thank them for the attention'.

I then take her into the kitchen and tell The Maid to set out bowls of food and water to her, and take her up to the gym once she's eaten. Now alone, I head up to the Infirmary on a hunch, and sure enough, find The Nurse and The Cowgirl sixty-nineing on a bed. The Cowgirl had come up for treatment after a particularly ungrateful horse stepped on her foot (avoiding broken bones largely thanks to her stiff leather boots), and The Nurse had barely finished bandaging the foot before she was pushing her head under The Cowgirl's skirt. They'd been going at it since. I give The Nurse a few quick smacks on her shapely ass while reminding her that The Cowgirl has duties of her own to take care of, and shouldn't be kept from them too long.

Afterwards, I head to the gym and work out there 'till suppertime. (It takes a lot of work to stay in decent shape when you're past 40, and keeping up with so many girls requires exactly that.) When The Maid brings up The Animal, I put her on the treadmill set aside for her use, attaching the chains mounted on the front of it to her nipple- and clit-piercings. I can thus return to my own workout while she stretches her muscles in a rapid crawl in order to keep ahead of the constant tug on her sensitive bits.

Once it's time to head down for dinner, I detach the exhausted Animal from the treadmill and let her lick the accumulated sweat from my balls and ass-crack. In the process, I notice a small bulge on her lower abdomen, and remember that she's had no chance to empty her bladder since the morning. So I swing by the bathroom, where The Toilet has just had her dinner-tray delivered by The Maid, and twist loose the dildo lodged in The Animal's urethra so that she can release her concentrated payload of hot piss in The Toilet's waiting mouth. Meanwhile, I take the time to spit in all of the food, making sure The Toilet sees me do so.

I take the time to fuck The Animal's now-empty bladder, lifting her up to sit on the bathroom counter so she'll be at the right height. Once I've deposited a load of my cum in her peehole and plugged it again, I head down to the dining-room, watching The Toilet eagerly eat her tainted food as I leave. My side-trip delayed me enough that dinner's already in full swing when I arrive, everyone eating and chatting while The Maid splits her time between serving food and assisting The Painslut. (By house rules, dinner starts at 7 PM sharp, regardless of who is or isn't at the table - myself included. But of course, The Maid always keeps some reheatable goodies on hand for anyone who misses dinner outright.)

Bowls of food and water are prepared on the floor, not just for The Animal, but also for Blackie and The Bitch, who are generally allowed to come inside for the evening. Blackie and The Bitch eat hungrily side-by-side, while The Animal calmly devours the food that's set before her without showing any particular indication of appetite. Whether it is - as in this case - a portion of the same food the rest of us are eating, or kibble from the bowls in the Kennel, she eats it in exactly the same way, her expression never changing.

After dinner, we move into the common-room, and I settle down in my favorite chair with a good book while Blackie and The Bitch curl up at my feet. The Nurse and The Painslut challenge one another to a game of Dance Dance Revolution in front of the entertainment-center, while The Cowgirl watches from the sidelines and drawls that she could've easily schooled them both if it weren't for her unfortunate foot-injury. The Secretary and The Dominatrix are arguing about what movie to watch once the DDR-battle is over. The Twins are cuddling on the couch, whispering to each other and occasionally kissing. The Animal is sitting stoically by my chair, ready to obey my orders but otherwise relaxed. There is no specific rule against post-dinner sex in the common-room, but it tends to be the case that by then, everybody's burned through the day's hormonal reserves and are too relaxed after eating to have any real sex-drive. The Maid eventually brings evening snacks, coffee and tea for those who want it, and my habitual mug of late-evening hot chocolate.

What, did you think we did nothing but fuck all day? Nah. Even the girls can't keep that up, much less myself, despite the best performance-enhancers money can buy. Everyone needs a chance to unwind sometimes, anyway. Of course, during the guest-weekends, we pack the game-consoles, dance-mat and the board-games we sometimes indulge in away, specifically to create the illusion that we do, indeed, do nothing but have kinky sex from dusk 'till dawn.

As night falls, The Cowgirl and The Fuckpig head out to the stable to give the animals their evening fodder, while I walk Blackie and The Bitch back out to the kennels, petting them goodnight. I put The Animal back in her cupboard, and she seems almost happy as I connect her to the various wires and tubes before closing the door. It had been an unusually busy day for her, so perhaps she was glad to be back in her comfortable cubbyhole. Then all that's left is to stop by the bathroom to brush my teeth and pour one last bladderful of piss down the sleepy Toilet's gullet.

The Secretary is waiting for me as I reach my bed, naked and stretched seductively across the covers. She laughs delightedly as I growl and grab her, pouring the last of the day's energy into fucking her good and hard, pounding thrusts into her young pussy. The resulting cum-load is rather anemic, but she doesn't care. As long as she is the one who shares my bed, the one I fuck amidst my silken sheets, nothing else matters to her. Feeling her soft, subtle body beneath me, I whisper a few choice terms of endearment in her ear, making her shiver with delight. Then, with my deflating cock still lodged inside her, I lay my head down on the pillow next to hers, and will my muscles to relax. She'll shimmy out from underneath me when she feels like it - she's remarkably agile that way. Sleep comes soon, helped along by the hot chocolate and a bit of late-night exercise.

So yes, all in all, I'd say retirement agrees with me.

The End (For good...)