Daisy Gets the Treatment She Wants – ch 02

DAISY GETS THE TREATMENT SHE WANTS – Ch 02

** Daisy’s two-week adventure continues as she is roughly bound, glory-holed again and shocked in preparation for Bill’s big party. **


[Day 1 (Saturday) – early evening]

Over dinner, David introduced me to his three friends. Mark was the kind of guy you just naturally asked “so you played some football in college, eh?” A big side of beef standing about 6 foot 2 and two-hundred fifty pounds of solid muscle. His interest in Daisy as purely back-door. Of all the photographs of Daisy that I’d sent David, Mark was interested in only one. A doggie-style pose of her holding her ass cheeks open. He showed me that he kept it in his wallet. That was a little scary, even for me.

Marco was a slim, elegantly dressed man with some kind of Latin look. I couldn’t guess and he didn’t offer, so I don’t think I’ll ever know. He was along for ride largely as an option. Marco had known David a long time and was David’s pipeline to illicit substances. If David wanted to get high — or to get Daisy high — Marco was the man.

The third one in the group surprised me completely. It was a woman named Donna. She wore her hair shaved short, had a five o’clock shadow, no chest at all, and dressed in a casual “jeans and t-shirt” style that completely fooled me. David laughed at my surprised look. “Not many people guess it right,” he said. David told me that Donna was in it for one thing and one thing only: the pain.

“So, how have I been doing?” I asked. I cut another bit of the chicken marsala and twirled some capellini around it.

“You don’t do much of this, do you?” she asked. I was taken aback a bit. She took a sip of wine, eyes locked with mine. “Do you?” she repeated.

“Well, I mean, it’s not an everyday thing,” I managed before she laughed. “I’ve seen worse,” she said with a big grin. I smiled. Fuck you. Though, I have to admit I was curious. It’s always fascinating to me to see what others come up with that I’ve never thought of. I’m guessing Donna could teach me a thing or two.

“How do you think she’s doing?” Marco asked. “That floor mat was fucking evil.”

I nodded. “A friend of mine suggested it a few years ago and I’ve kept the idea around ever since. Daisy was the perfect candidate to try it out.”

“I’ll say. She’s fucking twisted,” Mark said. “Never saw anyone who came at it like this. She never says ‘enough’ does she?”

I shook my head. “And it wouldn’t matter, would it?”

David looked at me. I knew what he was thinking. Both he and I knew Daisy’s safeword and he and I were just as sure she would never use it. But the others didn’t know that. They didn’t need to.

Just before we finished our dinner, Donna called the waitress over. “Can you get some of the Giardiniera to go?” She smiled at me. “I *am* going to have a turn, right?”

I nodded.

David closed his cell phone. “It’s all set up. They said to have her there at ten so they can get things set up. The party kicks off at eleven and runs till morning.” He gave me a wide smile. “You are guaranteed to like this.”

—
Mark leaned over and poured the panful of ice water over Daisy’s head. She jerked up, sputtering, cried out as her body weight shifted on the spikes and rolled sideways off of the mat. The talc stuck to her side and legs, the water making a thin paste. Mark threw her a towel. “Clean the mess up.”

Daisy did her best but I could tell that every muscle was stiff and sore. Her skin was still bright red from the scrubbing and you could see the indentations in her skin where the rows of spikes had been. She wiped the water and talc as best she could while we got our drinks from the kitchen. We came back and gathered around her, just watching her rubbing the towel slowly across the same spot on the floor.

We’d agreed she needed at least an hour’s sleep before we delivered her to David’s party, which meant we had just over ninety minutes. I watched her with interest as she kept moving the towel. What was she thinking? Was she stalling for time? Unable to figure out what to do next? Enthralled by her own level of servitude? Her ass was gorgeous, even striped and coated with talc, her body held up. Firm and ripe, inviting so much more punishment. And Mark’s cock. The more I watched it swaying back and forth as she rubbed the towel, the more I needed to get started on her again. It screamed to be attacked, used and violated.

“Daisy,” I said calmly.

“Yes, Sir,” she answered, still wiping the floor.

“Bring me the Pear.”

She looked around the room and found it where I’d left it, on one of the small tables near the window. She tried to stand up but was too weak so she started crawling across the floor. The sway of her ass was just too enticing, I didn’t want to wait. I nearly jumped up and got it myself but I took a breath and composed myself. When she tried to rise up to get the Pear, her body gave out and she fell flat on the floor.

“That’s all right, dear. We have time,” I said with the most condescending tone I could muster. She pulled her way up the side of the table, using the table legs to steady herself, and grabbed for the Pear before she collapsed again. She held it in her teeth and crawled back to me. I held out my hand and she dropped it in.

“Marco, go get the gear ready,” I said while Daisy waited. Marco nodded and went into the other room. I’d explained to him how to setup the shock device and he seemed eager to give it a try.

“Turn around and open up.” She did. I slid the Pear into her cunt, getting it slick with her juice. Then, I pushed it up her ass and started turning the knob. She grunted and moaned as I went straight to a full two inches. I had her crawl around the room, letting the thing situate itself inside her before I called her back. “Ass high.” She put her forehead on the floor and raised her ass higher. I turned the knob mercilessly, not stopping until she was open a full three-and-a-half inches.

“Stand up.”

It took her three tries before she could stand for more than a few seconds. She kept her feet wide apart and squatted, knees bent and her legs at a forty-five degree angle. I had her walk around the room like that a few more times. It was horribly humiliating, I could tell from her face as she ambled open-legged around the room.

Finally, I had her stop and squat in front of us, her hands behind her neck, knees open wide. Marco laid the five black boxes on the floor in front of her. Each was about the size of a cell phone. Four contained batteries — high-charge NiMHs — and the fifth was the controller.