CAGED HEAT by Veronica Beacher

copyright resides with author

excerpt downloaded from www.bdsmbooks.com

     Boris pulled his softening prick out of me and cleaned himself up, then put himself back into his pants and tugged on my hair to stand me upright, then yelled out.

     The door opened immediately, and Dana sauntered in.

     "She is acceptable," Boris said.

     Dana inclined her head, then crooked her finger at me. I hesitated, then moved slowly forward. I looked towards my clothes but she crooked a finger under my chain and pulled me out the door and into the hall - naked.

     "Wait," I panted.

     "You don't need any clothes," she said.

     I gasped as we moved down the hall, passing waitresses and strippers, bus boys and restaurant staff, blushing furiously, but hot, intensely hot because I hadn't let myself come with Boris.

      She walked me to the dressing room, filled with mirrors, tables, and half naked girls, then turned me around and lifted my chin.

     "So how did you like Boris's anal probe?" she asked.

     I blushed more deeply and she laughed. "The audience will love a whore who blushes," she said.

     "I-I have to go," I gulped.

     "Go? You're going on with me tonight."

     I blinked in surprise. "Tonight? No! I mean, I haven't worked up an act or..."

     "You don't have to. You only have to do what you're told. And I think you're good at that, sweety. What's your name, by the way?"

     I stared at her a moment. "Gwen," I said.

     "Is that your stage name?"

     I shook my head.

     "We'll call you... Tammy. Such a sweet name, Tammy."

     "I-I haven't even had dinner," I protested.

     She leaned in and kissed me on the lips. There were hoots and jeers from some of the other girls but she ignored them.

     She drew back and led me by the nipple chain to a distant corner table, then ordered me to sit.

     "Angela, tell Helga I want a dinner in here."

     She refused to remove the chain or unlock my wrists, and fed me as she told me what she wanted me to do. I was half numbed, half electrified by the thought of going out in front of the crowd of people and doing the perverse things she outlined. But I would have protested more strongly if my pussy hadn't been in a state of high heat since Boris had pumped my ass.

     It wasn't so bad being naked in here, because most of the people who saw me were strippers who were busily dressing and undressing. I was kind of self conscious about the chains, though.

     After dinner Dana took me into a small broom closet sized room and spread my legs, then fingered me to the edge of orgasm, until my legs trembled, my back arched, and my breath was ragged, then laughed at me and pulled back.

     She turned me, bent me over, and began to massage my pussy and anus with her fingers, then used dildos to open them wide, dildos which filled me to overflowing and strained my openings. She wouldn't let me come, though, and forced me to lick her to three orgasms.

     She removed my chains, brushed my hair and did my face, then gave me a tissue thin nightie to wear. It was what the waitresses wore as they made their way around the room. I was to be a waitress, or at least, to pretend to be one.  Beneath it I wore nothing but a tiny lacy white G-string with a heart shaped crotch.

     I blushed self consciously as one of the girls pushed me out into the bar. I was wearing little enough, but knew I would soon have far less. I was petrified of being up on stage in front of them all in the bright light, my heart pounding.

     Dana was already on stage, dressed in gleaming black leather, wearing a dark mask and hissing at the audience, which yelled abuse. She had thigh high black leather boots with tall stiletto heels, and she stalked around the stage, shouting down at those nearest her, sneering at them. She put her foot on one man's face and shoved him back.

     My stomach twisted as I shuffled forward, holding a tray, blushing. I moved closer and closer to the stage, seeing an empty glass on the counter there.

     At last Dana stalked over to point down at me, yelling something I couldn't hear over the pounding music and the shouts of the crowd. I stared at her, wide eyed, frozen, forgetting what I was supposed to do. She bent at the edge of the stage and grabbed for me. I almost dodged back, forgetting, and she barely caught at the fabric of the nightie, ripping it as she jerked me towards her.

     The audience howled with approval as Dana tore the nightie off my body. I resisted instinctively, though I was supposed to do it anyway, blushing darkly as my nearly naked body was revealed.

     Then Dana yanked me up onto the stage, lifting me up over the edge, my feet kicking weakly. She pulled me up across her knees as she knelt there and began to spank my bare bottom.

     "Kick more," she hissed.

     I kicked weakly, hardly able to breath as her hand cracked across my bottom. She jammed her fingers between my thighs and I yelped without any need to act as she squeezed my pussy through the thin G-string. Then she let out an animal like laugh and threw me forward, standing and grabbing me by the hair. She forced me to crawl across the stage and up to a stainless steel pole, then lifted me to my feet.

     From inside her leather coat she produced a pair of handcuffs, snapping them around one wrist, then lifting both my hands up high, putting the cuff through a ring set in the pole and then locking it around my other wrist. I gulped repeatedly, staring around wildly, half blinded by the light. I yelped as she slapped my bottom.

     She produced a chain similar to the one I'd worn, but this one had clips on the ends, and my nipple burned as she snapped one down. I cried out in pain, and she laughed, leading the chain behind the pole and then squeezing my other breast to snap the second clip against it.

     The audience were yelling out obscenities, telling her to fuck me, to rape me, to beat me. The music was pounding, and cigarette smoke wafted past us in clouds, reflected by the spotlight.

     The stage was round, surrounded on three sides by eager eyes. Dana produced a second chain, also with clips.

     "Struggle more," she hissed.

     I pulled against the handcuffs, twisting my torso from side to side, and she reached down for my shaved pussy, gripping one of my pussy lips. I screamed again as she snapped the clip against it. And then again as she led the chain behind the pole and did the same to my other pussy lip.

     And then something happened she hadn't warned me about. Another pole began to rise from the floor. I didn't even notice until my leg pushed against it. I looked down and had no need to feign astonishment. It was thicker than my arm, perhaps as thick as that beer can I had seen earlier, rounded at the top, and glistening.

     "Oh fuck!" I gasped.

     "You got it, sweetie," Dana said sadistically.

     The audience erupted in howls of delight as the thick metal pole pushed higher and higher. I tried to twist aside but Dana forced her legs between mine and gripped my thighs. With the chain holding my pubic lips out and forward I could hardly move, and she needed only a little pull to my belly to ease me exactly into position as the rounded metal pushed against my sex.

 &nbsRoman; color: windowtext">      The audience loved it. Money was being thrown onto the stage.

     It hurt. It hurt badly. I ached inside, but I felt a wildfire thrill which fought the pain back, a thrill of sexual electricity which ripped through my body and had my hair almost standing on end.

     Dana produced a flog. It was not a real flog, for that would have marked my skin. But it did sting when it was whipped across my back and bottom.

     The impact was enough to slowly redden my flesh, but did not really hurt much. My body jerked in response, however, pulling my nipples and pussy lips against the chain and jerking me around on the thick metal pole. The more le="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: Times New Roman; color: windowtext">      The audience loved it. Money was being thrown onto the stage.

     It hurt. It hurt badly. I ached inside, but I felt a wildfire thrill which fought the pain back, a thrill of sexual electricity which ripped through my body and had my hair almost standing on end.

     Dana produced a flog. It was not a real flog, for that would have marked my skin. But it did sting when it was whipped across my back and bottom.

     The impact was enough to slowly redden my flesh, but did not really hurt much. My body jerked in response, however, pulling my nipples and pussy lips against the chain and jerking me around on the thick metal pole. The more blows she landed the more aroused I got. I felt a sense of dazed wonder that this was happening to me, that this was being done to me while hundreds of people looked on and shouted in delight.

     "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I gasped weakly.