Blue collar Master, white collar slave Part 2

About an hour later I was once again naked except for my chastity pouch

and my stilettos and once again I was screaming and crying, my body

covered with angry red welts from Master Darren's whip. On my knees

crying and begging I held his cock in my hands, trying to give the best

handjob ever to avoid further punishment. Apart from masturbating (how I

longed to be able to do that again) I had no experience in pleasing a

man with my hands. As a result my efforts were clumsy and slow. Looking

up with pleading eyes I could see how Master Darren grew ever more

impatient, while I inexpertly handled his massive rod. Finally he came,

spraying my face with his juice. However, it was quite clear that my

efforts had made him angry rather than pleased and soon afterwards I was

suspended from the ceiling by my wrists, my legs tied wide. Daddy had

finished punishing and fucking Master Darren's slave, known only as

"hole", and had joined us. So had a whole crowd of other masters and

their slaves. We had been in a private dungeon at the back of the bar,

but Master Darren and Daddy had decided to open the doors so that as

many as possible could join the fun. The rules turned out to simple: any

master could participate, as long as he didn't fuck my holes or mark my

face or hands. Other than that, there were no rules.

In the early hours of the morning, when Daddy carried me to his truck, I

was a complete wreck. At Daddy's request my genitals had been left

alone, but only after the first three masters had pummeled them

mercilessly. It felt like they had grown to twice their normal size, but

since the pouch did not expand, this only increased pressure on them. My

body was now a huge collection of markings, many of them bleeding a

little, and my ass was stuffed with a monster of a blow-up buttplug,

which Daddy had purposefully not removed. I was convinced that I'd never

recover, that I'd been hurt too badly. This did, however, not prevent