Gromet's Plaza Erotic Stories
Lord Oliver
by Tumbleweed
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© Copyright 2012 - Tumbleweed - Used by permission
Storycodes: M+/f; slave; sold; auction; collar; dungeon; stocks; gag; bfold; hood; nipple; sex; climax; nc/reluct; X
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Lord Oliver Tumbleweed M+/f; slave; sold; auction; collar; dungeon; stocks; gag; bfold; hood; nipple; sex; climax; nc/reluct; X
 

Chapter 1: Purchase.

The floor beneath Lottie’s feet changed from thick carpet to cold flagstone. Trapped in the darkness of the blindfold she could only guess her new location by her other senses – the smell of recently cooked pizza and spilled beer and the hum of a dishwasher. In a room behind heavy rock music roared out played by a band she didn’t know. The firm grip on her arm relaxed.

“This is the slave I have for sale. I’m afraid she’s not fully trained, but she has potential.”

Lottie twisted her wrists in the cuffs that locked her arms behind her back. The feeling of vulnerability flooded through her once more now she knew her master wasn’t alone. Completely naked but for the blindfold and cuffs the air felt cool against her skin.

“I’d soon get ‘er trained up,” came a brash, drunken voice. She heard footsteps approach and then fire burned through Lottie’s nipples when fingers pinched them both without warning. She gasped, taking an involuntary step back. Her master slapped her on the buttock.

“Stand still whilst you’re being inspected.”

Lottie took a deep calming breath, tears burned her eyes but she blinked furiously and didn’t move when the vicious pinch came again. She’d not asked for this life but now had little choice but to tolerate it. Several months previously she’d been drugged and woken to this humiliation when her boyfriend sold her to a stranger in return for his drug debts being wiped clean. The stranger kept her a week before selling her on. She’d been living here with her current master for two months and he’d been the third stranger she’d been sold to in the last eight months.

 Now another sale, another master.

She caught the smell of garlic and beer, along with foul breath wafting from the man pinching her nipples so viciously and fought to hide her grimace.

“How much you wanting for ‘er?”

“I’m going to let you three gentlemen bid for her. Highest bid wins. I’m starting at five thousand.”

“Five!”

“She’s part trained.”

New footsteps and then someone new caressed her face. This man’s hands were cool compared with the hot hands still on her breasts. Finger tips trailed down her neck, along her ribs and poked against her anus. She forced herself not to flinch knowing she’d get punished if she did.

“I’ll give you five,” said the voice that went with the fingers. “She’s a pretty little thing. I’d like to add her to my collection.”

“Five and half,” said the first man, a hot mouth enclosed her nipple now. He sucked gently but then nipped her hard enough to make her gasp again.

“Oliver? What do you think? Are you interested?”

“Perhaps.” The voice was soft across the kitchen.

All the hands withdrew, as if submitting to the other man and Lottie heard him approach. A moment later a leather gloved hand brushed lightly against her nipples, making them stand to attention. There was nothing crude about this stranger, his touch light and gentle. A hand cupped her chin and lifted it firmly and then warm lips pressed lightly on hers. She’d grown accustomed to being used unwillingly in recent months and for the first time since her ordeal she felt a true response from her body, heat growing within. She allowed the kiss to deepen, his lips tasted of whisky. He pulled away before she wanted him to.

“What’s your name?” he asked. His voice gentle, cultured, intelligent.

Did he want her slave name or her real name?

“I’m Slave Fifty-Three,” she said, erring on the side of caution. “My master simply calls me Fifty Three.”

A soft laugh and a new caress. “I meant your true name, before you became a slave?”

“Charlotte. Lottie.”

He remained close enough that she could still feel the warmth of his body but he no longer touched her.

“Lottie. A pretty name. Why did you choose to become a slave Lottie?”

“I didn’t,” she said, with more heat in her words than she’d intended.

 A rough grip circled her upper arm and fingers pressed into her flesh, she winced and fell silent.

“An unwilling captive?” This time the words seemed directed towards her master so Lottie stayed silent.

“There are more unwilling than willing,” her master said dismissively. “You must know that Oliver, especially when they learn what it’s like to be a slave.”

“There’s a difference to agreeing and disliking to never agreeing at all.” The man moved away, taking with him his body warmth and leaving her feeling vulnerable again.

“Five and six,” injected the second man.

“Take her blind fold off,” ordered Oliver.

Her master did so and Lottie blinked and squinted against the bright fluorescent light. When her eyes managed to adjust she looked at the three men in the kitchen. One was young, ginger haired with a multitude of equally ginger freckles across his face. His shirt was half tucked in, half out and he had bottle of beer held loose in one hand. He studied her blearily, obviously very drunk.

Sitting up on one of the kitchen counters swinging his legs was a handsome, cheeky looking man in his mid twenties. He had dark curls and full, kissable lips. He grinned at her with perfectly white straight teeth. Nervously, Lottie darted her gaze to the final man. He was the eldest of the group, probably a little past thirty. He wore a grey suit, the only flash of colour the red stripes on his loose tie. Her gaze flickered up to his face and she caught her breath, he’d been badly burned at some point and now the left side of his face was horribly scarred. He wore thin leather gloves on his hands making her wonder if his hands were also scarred.

He lifted a glass that looked to have a splash of whisky at the bottom and regarded her with serious slate grey eyes, watching her reaction to his appearance. She should find him repulsive but something about the proud set to his shoulders, the powerful bearing and the intelligent glint in his expression attracted rather than repulsed.

“You have pretty eyes,” he said softly.

She risked a small smile in response but then the ginger haired man came over and wrapped his hand in her hair and jerked her head back. She gasped at the sharp pain.

“Pretty brown eyes, for sure,” he said, throwing the words over his shoulder to Oliver, “But I much prefer them to be fixed on the ground.” Lottie bit back a yelp as he tugged on her hair and then let go. “So, do we get to test the bit between her thighs?”

“No,” her master said unapologetic.

“I’ve give you six.”

Lottie felt herself start to tremble, both with cold and fear. She didn’t want to go to this man and his cruel, rough ways. Oliver stayed silent while the two other men bid, swirling the whisky around the bottom of his glass although she noticed he never drank any.

Please, please, please! She begged him silently, risking another glance in his direction. He’d not moved or spoken whilst the other two threw offers back and forth. The final price finished on twelve thousand and four with the ginger haired man. He grinned triumphant. Lottie let her gaze dropped to the ground, trying to accept her fate.

“Twenty five thousand,” Oliver said, draining the whisky he’d been nursing and putting his glass on the table. The room fell silent and everyone turned to look at him.

“Twenty five! Oliver! That’s not fair!” yelped the ginger man, his face reddening with irritation. He lobbed the empty beer bottle into the black sack by the side of the fridge.

Oliver settled his steady gaze on him. “We’re here to bid aren’t we?”

“But you’ve been to loads of these sales and never purchased a slave before. Why now? when I’ve finally got one I like?”

Oliver’s gaze slipped back to Lottie. “Because I want this one. You’re free to outbid me if you want to.”

The ginger man’s mouth tightened and he swore under his breath. The second man merely smirked, enjoying the show and then slid off the kitchen counter, he came over and clapped the ginger man on the back.

“Come on, let’s go to the club. It seems Oliver has things to do and I’m not standing around here all night.”

The ginger man glared at Oliver a moment long then staggered to the door with his companion. The door opened, letting in a blast of cold air that brought Lottie out in goose bumps, and then they were gone. Lottie let out a soft sigh of relief and returned her attention to Oliver. His face seemed harder now and he searched her eyes for a long moment.

“You were taken unwillingly to your fate but I’m giving you the option of being my slave or not.”

“But..” began her master.

“Hush, you’ll be paid either way,” Oliver said sharply.

Lottie looked into his ruined face sensing a hint of vulnerability. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and held out a thick brown leather collar. Lottie stared at it wide eyed.

“If you agree to come with me and remain my slave for as long as I wish to keep you - without attempting to escape - then put this collar on. You’d be wise to put it on comfortably because this will be staying on the whole time you belong to me. Once it’s on I’ll be locking it with this padlock and the key will be disposed of.”

He held out his hand and Lottie stared at the tiny padlock lying in his palm.

“And if I don’t agree?” she whispered, risking the wrath of both men.

“Then I’ll pay your master the twelve thousand agreed on with Max and leave you here.”

Lottie caught her bottom lip between her teeth, hesitated for a brief moment and then reached out for the collar. Her hand shook as she lifted it. The leather felt nice - soft and supple. Expensive.

Did she want to belong to Oliver? This time she had a choice. Oliver or her master. But if she chose her master then the ginger man was likely to return and purchase her from him.

Slowly she wrapped the collar around her neck, the circling of it announcing Oliver’s possession of her. She tightened it so it she could feel the presence of it without it being too tight or uncomfortable.

“Are you happy with that?” Oliver asked. Lottie nodded and in a deft movement Oliver clicked the padlock in place. His grey eyes bore into her for a long moment, challenging her to complain and then he looked up at her previous master.

“Get her some clothes.”

Chapter 2: New Home

Lottie sat in the car, blindfold over her eyes once more although her hands had been cuffed in front to make her more comfortable. She’d been dressed in a light summer dress, completely naked under the thin cotton.

They were being driven by a chauffeur and Oliver’s hand rested lightly on her thigh, stroking it lightly with a single finger. The journey seemed to take forever, she guessed motorway for part of the journey but then the roads became twisty. Finally the car slowed, the sound of gravel under the wheels.

“I’m taking the blindfold off now so you can see your new home,” Oliver said quietly in her ear.

The tight blindfold slipped away and she blinked, trying to get orientated. They were travelling along a long sweeping drive towards a huge Edwardian manor house. Lottie’s eyes widened.

“My family estate,” Oliver said, watching her reaction. “It’s been in my family for over three hundred years.”

“It’s beautiful,” Lottie said, forgetting she’d not been given permission to speak.

They pulled up inside a huge garage and got out. The chauffeur risked a quick glance in her direction and to Lottie’s alarm his gaze was full of pity. Oliver took hold of her arm and instead of heading towards the main door into the house he headed to a narrow, wooden door at the back of the garage. He unlocked it and pulled it open. It squeaked on tight hinges setting her teeth on edge. Oliver reached in and flicked on the single bulb in the narrow staircase in front of her.

“Go down.”

Lottie stared down, fighting her instinct to flee. Oliver’s body blocked the way. She obediently took a step forward and made her way down. At the bottom of the stairs was another door. Oliver unlocked it, flicked on another light switch and opened the door.

Another staircase.

She got the distinct feeling they were going into the bowels of the earth and started to shiver - partly from the chilly air, partly from fear.

“Careful, the steps get steeper,” Oliver warned, his gloved hand briefly held her shoulder to slow her before letting go. He locked the door behind them.

At the bottom of this staircase was a sight that made Lottie’s eyes widen. She stared around, her breath catching in her throat. The space was huge and probably spanned most of the house above and it contained a fully equipped dungeon.

 Equipment that would be used on her.

“Do you like it?”

What could she say? She glanced at Oliver and saw something sardonic in his expression, he’d read her fear well enough.

“It’s... big...” she said finally.

A smile quirked on his ruined features. “That’s one way of describing it.”

Why did he want a place like this?

In the centre of the dungeon was a square of steel bars from floor to ceiling which she imagined would become her cell. It was fully exposed on all sides allowing no privacy and contained a fixed bed platform and a drain in the floor that she assumed would be her toilet when she was locked inside. It seemed about six foot square.

Oliver took off her cuffs and studied her carefully for a moment.

“Remove your clothes and then shower,” he ordered, gesturing to an open shower that stood in a corner of the room.

Lottie obeyed, aware of Oliver’s gaze on her the whole time. She showered, washed her hair and then stepped out. Oliver came over holding a fluffy towel and slowly dried her, his touch gentle. He stepped behind her and began to dry her back then leaned forward to kiss her neck and murmured, “You’re very beautiful.”

She trembled under his touch, not from fear but from the desire that started to course through her body. His hands, still gloved, traced gently along the curve of her spine and then beneath her ribs. They left a trail of sensation tingling in their wake. Next he reached around and brushed her nipples and then gently rolled them between his finger and thumb while showering her back with kisses, his chin was rough against her soft skin. He nipped her ear lobe and then stepped back. Lottie turned to face him, the desire in his eyes was unmistakeable.  He reached out his hand and took hold of hers.

“Come with me.”

She followed him across the wide open space of the basement and drew in a sharp breath when he stopped beside some stocks. He unlocked them and opened the top section.

“Put your neck and wrists in here.”

She obeyed reluctantly, wishing he’d simply taken her in his arms and made love to her on the floor. The top half clicked closed and he padlocked it shut. She shifted restlessly, uncomfortable at the helpless bent position. He fastened something soft but unyielding around her ankle and pulled it to one side and fastened it in place, he did the same to the other leaving her spread and exposed.

His hands ran down her back, exploring her helpless body. A rain of kisses followed making her skin come up in goose-bumps and then, without warning, he pulled a blindfold over her eyes trapping her in darkness.

She let out a soft whimper.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. A moment later something touched her lips. “Open your mouth.”

She did so and something rubber pressed against her lips. A ball gag. She hated them but widened her mouth and winced at the pressure, her jaw immediately protested at the intrusion. Eventually it popped in and he fastened the straps tightly around her head to hold it in place. Lottie tried to squash it a little smaller but the rubber was hard.

“Now listen to me,” Oliver said, his voice quiet but serious. “I’ll cause you no damage and no scars but I will do as I please with you and sometimes that will involve discomfort. You agreed to become my slave so I trust you’ll obey me instantly, even when you know I may be planning something that will be unpleasant for you.”

Lottie nodded and shifted, trying to get a more comfortable posture. Her heart was racing, yet the warmth of his body, so close yet not touching, was making her want more.

He touched her hair, stroking her gently and said, “I have a pressure hood that I’ll be putting on you next. Don’t panic.”

He shoved ear plugs into her ears muffling all sound.

“Hm..mmm,” she muttered around the gag.

Saliva trickled down her chin, escaping her mouth at the corner. He dabbed it away and a moment later Lottie felt soft but unyielding leather being pulled over her head. He lined it up, fiddling about for a moment to ensure she could breathe through the nose holes and then he zipped it up. Lottie jolted, adrenaline shot through her and she twisted in her restraints in sudden panic. The leather pressed against her face tighter than she’d expected and ended in a thick collar that forced her chin up slightly and prevented all movement of her head. The hood forced the large gag deeper into her aching mouth.

Something else tightened around her mouth and she guessed he was adding a strap. Another was placed around her eyes and then something prodded against her nostrils. The sensation made her struggled even though she could barely twitch now, her nose was her only source of air. Two tubes were relentlessly pushed up her nose and she realised she could breath freely although now she couldn’t even smell anything else except the rubber they were made from.

Her jaw was killing her.

He rolled her nipples gently between his fingers again and she started to relax into the situation even though it was uncomfortable. She realised she’d relaxed too soon when a sharp, agonising pain shot through her nipple. She jerked in surprise, although she could barely twitch in her bindings. A heavy, throbbing pressure remained on her nipple, joined quickly by matching pain in her other.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his voice muffled, and then he entered her.

The unexpected invasion startled her but she let her body relax into the thrusts as she’d been trained to do. He didn’t hurt her like some of her Master’s had. Despite the uncomfortable position he had the knack for getting just the right place. It didn’t take long for the waves of pleasure to crash over her and they came together. For a moment they stayed like that, until the discomfort of her trapped position made her shift slightly. He withdrew and stepped back.

Lottie wanted to be freed now. Her sexual tension had gone and she wanted nothing more than a bath and to sleep. It didn’t seem that was to be an option though as her Master was making no move to free her. Instead the weight on her sore nipples increased making them scream in agony. She groaned into her gag.

Next something new thrust into her, not her master this time but a vibrator. It was thick and long and he shoved it inside her filling her and then strapped it in place before turning it up to full speed. When she came again he turned it off and removed the nipple clamps. Pain burned through her but he gently massaged the blood back into them and kissed her between the shoulder blades. He didn’t take the vibrator out.

Lottie’s back was screaming for release from the bent position and she longed to move her head. And more than either of those two things she longed for the ball gag to be removed. Her master seemed to have vanished. After a long wait something prodded against her anus. Startled, she jumped and flinched.

“Don’t worry, I’m just going to make sure you’re nice and clean.”

What did that mean?

She tensed when the probing continued against her anus. She’d not been introduced to anal sex and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it now. Ready or not, it seemed she had little choice. The hard probe entered her, filling her, making her feel as if she’d split in half.

“Mhmm...” she cried but he ignored her and carried on pushing.

Once it was in so far she felt she’d been impaled to her stomach it expanded. She struggled, panicking. He caressed her soothingly but didn’t let up in ministrations. He seemed to have finished. Lottie wanted to cry, the thing up her bottom was hurting and stretching her wider than she’d ever thought possible. And then it got worse. Liquid flooded her bowels. At first it felt odd  but not uncomfortable but the liquid kept coming until she thought she’d explode and then the cramps begun.

His hands gently rubbed her distended stomach, round and round. She desperately tried to expel whatever was inside but the plug held everything trapped inside. She tugged helplessly at the stocks holding her trapped.

“You’ve not had an enema before?” she made out his questioning tone and quickly shook her head.

He removed the collar and hood and she squinted up at him. He popped out the ear plugs but not the gag.

“Since you’re new to the enema I’ll explain what we’ll be doing next,” he said. “I’ll take you over to the toilet and you’ll press this button to deflate the plug, you’ll then pull it out and when you do that it’s likely you’ll lose control and the enema will release. Let everything out and when you’re sure you’ve finished let me know by pulling the red cord beside the toilet. I need to go upstairs for a short while.”

She nodded. He released her from the stocks and she stood up, grateful to stretch her back. She walked behind him as he led the way to the toilet. She moved awkwardly, her body full with the liquid, the plug and the vibrator.

He chained her ankle to an eyebolt on the floor and then left her.

to be continued...

 

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