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His Revenge (Simon Grail)

His Revenge by Simon Grail

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Four young women are at the mercy of a man they had once humiliated.

Freddy Scarvyn had waited for years to exact his revenge on Cordelia MacBride, Natasha Sellbridge, Katherine Parham-White and Ruth Cardemon; perhaps both the prettiest and yet also the most unpleasant girls to have graced exclusive Granstead School’s Sixth Form, where Freddy had been a humble groundkeeper. He had planned and schemed and prepared and now the four young women were coming back together for what they thought was going to be an Old Girls Reunion. But the only thing they were going to be reunited with was the man they had once tormented and humiliated. One by one, they are subdued, stripped, bound and receive their introductory ravishment. But that was only the beginning. Freddy had an entire custom-made dungeon of ingenious devices and torments ready for his pretty guests; designed not only to spill their tears but other more intimate fluids as well. Perhaps after spending a couple of weeks in there, those four spoilt, proud, selfish women will learn what revenge really tastes like. And what true repentance really means... then again Freddy may be in for something he was not suspecting...

Editorial Note: This is a revised edition of this popular, older title.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 2 / 2019

No. words: 43300

Style: Male Dom - M/F

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Extract from: His Revenge

Freddy drove his cock right up Cordelia’s hot, tight well-greased rectum until his balls slapped against the swell of her pubes. He was buggering Cordelia MacBride and the perfect bliss of it took his breath away!
Her naked body was spread out face down under him and a pillow under her hips lifted her bottom up for his greater pleasure and ease of access. She was neither gagged nor blindfolded, but her mouth and eyes remained closed. Apart from a few rasping sighs as his weight bore down on her back, briefly driving the air from her lungs, she did not react to his vigorous reaming-out of her nether passage. More of the sleeping draft that had aided in her capture now ensured her unwitting cooperation with her sodomy through a long and satisfying night. Although she should sleep for hours, Freddy had taken the precaution of cuffing and chaining her wrists and ankles to corner posts of the heavy brass-framed bed. Her hands were also strapped up with black duct tape, binding her fingers and thumbs together. He’d seen too many films where captives escaped because their jailers got careless to take any chances. Besides, having her doubly helpless increased his pleasure.
Freddy pulled half out of her rear, savouring the unwilling suction of her orifice that clamped by reflex about his shaft as he did so, so he could slap her firm, rounded buttocks a few times, adding to their rosy glow. He wanted to leave marks on her body both outside and in. He wanted her to feel the bruises round her anus and be in no doubt where he’d been and what he’d done to her. He wanted her to know shame.
Reaching under Cordelia’s limp form he clasped and squeezed her tits, as firm and rounded as her bum, then resumed his hard but unhurried thrusting; allowing his pleasure to grow steadily, taking delight in every new penetration of her body, the visceral warmth of it under him and the soft pliancy of her skin. Of course, she was not quite as fresh and fragrant as she had been that first day. Her spectacular mane of hair was lank and tangled, her makeup smudged and faded and her skin was grimy. Only the faintest trace of her expensive perfume remained. Even after washing her backside and flushing her out with an enema it was obvious she was badly in need of a bath. Had she been conscious she would not doubt have agreed with that observation.
But the state of Cordelia’s body was quite intentional and did not put Freddy off making full use of her. After all these years the joy of being able to ride a real woman, and this one in particular, was not diminished by a little body odour.
Remorselessly but without haste he plundered her entrails. There was no hurry now. He was in absolute power, erasing his inhibitions one step at a time. When he’d had Cordelia five days earlier it had been a breakthrough, but her features had been largely hidden by a gag and blindfold strap. Now, taking her from behind like this meant he only saw as much of her face as he wished. He dare not risk the memory of her contemptuous mocking expression when she had broken his spirit years before returning to inhibit him. Whenever he chose he could think of her as an anonymous body. He was building up his confidence, working up to looking her full in the face as her had her, seeing the pain, the fear and the shame as he paid her back for what she had done. Then and only then would he be cured.
With a last few extra hard stabs with his cock Freddy spouted deep within Cordelia’s backside and then sank down onto the fleshy cushion of her body in perfect contentment; the master resting on his slave. Now he’d had each of his four bitches a second time in the most humiliating manner possible. How they would hate him! But that was only the start. By the time he was finished he was determined they would hate each other as well!
When he had rested he drew his now semi-tumescent cock out of Cordelia’s rear, then watched in fascination as her reddened anal ring slowly closed up after him, oozing his discharge as it did so. Scooping up some of his sperm he rubbed it over her blushing bottom cheeks. With a grin he then knelt astride Cordelia and wiped his cock clean on a hank of her hair. She would wear his scent until he permitted otherwise.
Uncuffing her from the bed he pulled her arms behind her back and locked her set of slave chains back on her. A thick black iron collar went about her neck, from the back of which trailed a heavy chain that sprouted a pair of wrist cuffs level with the small of her back. Continuing on down the chain ended in a large ring threaded through with another chain linking large ankle hobbles. The cuffs and chains were all far heavier than necessary to confine a young woman, but he wanted Cordelia and the others to know what it felt like to carry a burden about with them every minute of the day.
Hauling Cordelia’s now well-chained body upright and throwing her over his shoulder, Freddy left the windowless bedroom. Beyond was a corridor with rough, newly built brick walls, down one side of which were four identical doors each labelled with one of the girls’ names.
The door marked CORDELIA opened onto a small windowless room almost entirely taken up with a boxlike brick cell a little over waist high, roofed with concrete slabs. There was a single iron riveted door in the front, just large enough for a woman to pass through on her hands and knees. A heavy chain dangled from where it passed through a small slot at the top of the doorframe. Freddy slid Cordelia’s limp body feet-first through the doorway into the interior of the tiny cell and locked the end of the chain to her collar ring. Then he shut and bolted the small door.
Apertures closed with sliding metal grilles had been let into the top course of brickwork just under the cell’s roof slab. Sliding back one of these Freddy operate a switch. A light came on in the cell revealing Cordelia’s still form. She looked peaceful enough now, but he suspected that would change when she recovered.
Freddy made the rounds of the other rooms, each of which contained an identical cell.
Inside each an exhausted girl chained just like Cordelia slept fitfully. Soon they would awake to another day. He would let time do the rest.
Natasha stirred and opened bleary, crusted eyes. She was huddled up on a hard rubber tiled floor shivering with cold. Iron bands encircled her neck, wrists and ankles while plastic tape confined her fingers. She was staring at brick walls. As the knowledge of where she was returned she gave a reflex sob of dismay and instinctively clenched her buttocks, fearful she would feel as she had on the first day of her captivity the ache where Freddy had buggered her and the lingering slimy trail of his sperm. But there was nothing there and slowly she relaxed as far as her bonds allowed. Each morning since then she had been frightened to drink anything, but of course she had no choice. Probably now she would be safe until evening… assuming the cell light being on meant this was daytime. She was sure of nothing now.
She thought five days had passed since she had arrived at this place with her nipples stretched almost to the point of tearing by the weight of a bucket half-full of her own pee. Freddy had wheeled her, and presumably the others, into what she assumed to be another house and then down some stairs, so she guessed she was in a cellar. Then he had made her drink again… and the next thing she knew she was waking up chained as she was now inside this terrible cell with her rectum sore and throbbing from his cock. She had seen nothing else but these four walls since.
The cell was just long enough for her to lay flat, though her chains did not allow her to extend her both her legs completely at the same time so she had to slide her hobble chain back and forth through its ring to stretch them. In the far corner was a tray lined with paper that she tried not to look at or think about. In the ceiling there was a single bulb protected by a mesh basket.
Natasha squirmed about onto her knees. A week ago she would have denied the possibility that she could have slept like this, but it was amazing what exhaustion could do. At least she was well enough fed and watered… if she didn’t mind the humiliation it entailed. A black rubber phallus stuck up out of the wall by the door. It was clearly labelled: WATER. And that was what it delivered if she sucked hard enough. But underneath it also said: GET USED TO IT!
At first she had sworn abuse at Freddy and kicked at the door of her cell, still driven by outrage and the certainty that things like this did not happen to people like her. But over the days the defiance had drained out of her. In many ways it might have been easier if he’d been overtly crueller, but apart from that first night he had not touched her or responded to any of her taunts or threats, though she was sure he spied on her regularly. The only voice she heard was her own echoing back from the walls. Eventually she had stopped shouting as the isolation and squalor took their toll, as he must have planned they would. He knew her all too well as the last item on the cell demonstrated.
On the wall on the other side of the door was a polished metal mirror. And in it she could see day by day how bedraggled and hollow-eyed she was becoming. Even worse she could do nothing about it, not even brush back a single strand her hair. With her taped fingers she could do nothing, not even feel her own bare flesh. She was isolated even from herself.
Quietly she began to cry.
The sliding panel at the base of Katherine’s cell door opened and a plastic bowl of food was slipped inside.
‘Is that all I get, Master Freddy?’ she said feebly, trying to maintain a tone of sarcastic disdain, but the panel had already slid shut.
The bowl held, as it had every morning so far, a portion of porridge, sliced egg bread and a diced grapefruit quarter. Katherine supposed that was what Freddy thought good enough for breakfast. The idea of staging a hunger strike had briefly crossed her mind but she was not sure she had the nerve to go through with it if Freddy called her bluff. So she had to keep her strength until the police found her, which, she kept telling herself, they would do anytime. That was what they were paid for, after all. Her father had always called for stricter policing and more resources for their local constabulary. He’d make sure they didn’t rest until she was found. But for now this food was all she would get and, shameful as it was, she would eat it.
Shuffling about until she was kneeling over the bowl she spread her knees, pushed out her bottom and dipped her head down. It was a sickeningly servile and humiliating posture but with her arms chained behind her back and hands taped she had no other choice. Each day she had felt Freddy was looking at from the spy hole in the rear wall of the cell, looking at her gaping bum cheeks and exposed pubes. Even as she tried daintily to nip the morsels of food between her lips and teeth with the minimum of mess she was only too aware of her heavy breasts dragging across the floor, flattening her nipples against then cold rubber. Nevertheless she ate slowly, gobbling up every last scrap and licking her plate clean.
When she was finished she took another drink of water and curled up on the floor again. Wretched as they were, mealtimes were the highpoint of her day; the most stimulation she got of any kind. The pity was there were only three of them and so meagre. Of course she wasn’t getting much exercise so she didn’t need many calories, and fleshy girls like her had to be careful about putting on weight. She’d always been determined never to let her figure go. Suddenly she shivered and fought back the tears. But what did it matter now? Did Freddy want to keep them all looking beautiful or taunt their beauty by making them live in squalor?
No, she would not be turned into a hag! Her looks were important to her, not Freddy, because… because she was afraid she didn’t have a lot else.
The admission of doubt was shocking. Fuck this place she thought angrily, she was getting too introspective! She was not stupid… but she’d never been able to project her personality, to emphasise warmly. Was that why her marriage had failed? At least Freddy wanted her. Was this cold cell where she belonged?
Ruth hated the paper-lined tray in the corner of her cell and especially the sign above it: PAPER TRAINING FOR BITCHES. It was more proof of how sick Freddy Scarvyn was, she thought with righteous anger, before realising that in the circumstances that was not the most comforting conclusion when she was totally in his power. Why not at least allow her a bucket, the use of her hands and toilet paper! The first few days she had raged and screamed about that each time her food bowl was delivered and removed, but he had not said a word. Did he want to completely humiliate her? Of course he did…
The tray was cleaned every night, slid out through a grille-covered slot in the back wall flush with the floor. But through the day the stink of her urine still built up in the confined cell. She had learned to void her bowels last thing before lights out to reduce the time her excrement was sitting there. And as far as she could judge it was close to that time now.
Miserably she shuffled round and squatted over the tray, keeping her legs as wide as possible and holding the long chain from her collar to one side. Her arse was still sore from yesterday’s sodomizing. She’d cried for hours when she realized what he’d done to her but at least he’d cleaned her up before doing it. Now she was trapped with her own shit once more.
As the pee hissed from her and solids dropped to the paper with an obscenely soft splat, from the depths of her misery she felt a fleeting pang of guilt. Then she told herself that whatever she’d done to Freddy in the past, and it had been mostly Cordelia’s idea anyway, it was no excuse for this! A beautiful wealthy young woman like her didn’t deserve it. She hardly dared look at herself in the mirror. Was it better than the beatings and worse she’d imagined he’d do to her? But how long would she be kept here? Perhaps this was his revenge; to keep her locked up in here forever?
‘Please let me out!’ she screamed. ‘ Please… please…’ But there was no answer.
The next morning a notice was slid under Ruth’s door with her breakfast bowl.
Ruth stared at it, reading it over and over, not just for what it said but for being the first communication she’d had of any sort for nearly a week. She never realized how wonderful words were until now. She ate her food like a dog still staring at it.
Had the others been given similar notices? If she was the first to agree, did that make her the weakest? Did it matter? Did she have any pride left? A week ago, back in the real world, she would not have considered such a disgusting offer. But the real world seemed a long way away now. She had been well softened up, as no doubt he had intended, and what once was disgusting seemed less so in the circumstances. Besides, how much longer could she last in this cell without going mad!
She waited hunched up by the door, her eyes fixed on the slot in its base, ears straining for the sound of footsteps from outside. When they came and the grille was slid wide she shouted: ‘Yes, I’ll suck your cock, Master Freddy!’ Tears of hope and shame were streaming down her cheeks and she could not stop them. ‘I’ll do anything you want, just let me out of here… please!’
There was a long and terrible silence, then he spoke, the first voice she had heard for so long: ‘Do you really mean that, Ruth? This isn’t one of your little tricks, like the last time?’
‘No, no!’ she wailed. ‘I promise, Master Freddy. I’ll suck your cock… I beg to suck your cock. Please let me show you!’
‘All right, I’m going to shorten your chain…’
The chain running through the slot above the door began to clink and rattle and she allowed herself to be drawn forward until her face was pressed against the door. Then bolts slid back and the door swung open. Hands reached down, grasped the front of her collar ring and pulled her forward until she was kneeling half in the cell doorway, her bottom resting on her heels, with the shortened chain pulling her head up and back. Beyond was a brick room hardly larger than her cell, but at that moment it seemed to her a vast new panorama.
Freddy was standing over her. Despite her loathing and, yes, fear of him, she could not help drinking in every detail so starved of sensation had she been. He was dressed in blue t-shirt and denims; a good label, she could not help noticing. Was he taller than she remembered or was she diminished? He really was so different from the lumpish boy they had teased so long ago.
‘Knees wider than that,’ he snapped at her. ‘Ladies kneel coyly like that and you were never a lady. My bitches’ keep their cunts on show at all times so spread ‘em wide. I know you’ve had plenty of experience!’
Blushing, Ruth shuffled her legs wider, exposing her pubic mound to his gaze. After her long isolation she imagined his eyes burning into her bare flesh. It made her feel unclean beneath her grime, yet appallingly her nipples began to harden.
Freddy had seen her response as well and was grinning lecherously. ‘Nice hard nips, that’s what I like to see on my girls. You kneel like that before me at all times, got it?’
‘Yes, Master Freddy,’ she said miserably.
‘Now, you’d like to sit on a proper toilet and have a bath, wash your hair and smell nice again, right?’
‘Yes please, Master Freddy,’ Ruth said, equally appalled as her shame was washed away by a thrill of anticipation at his words. A week ago she took such things for granted and now they seemed like the wildest luxuries.
‘But why should I let you have them?’
Ruth floundered. Couldn’t he just let her get it over and done with? ‘So… so I can be more pleasing to you, Master Freddy?’ she suggested desperately.
‘That’s right, so you can please me. That’s all you exist for now, to please me; do you understand?’
Ruth shivered, but choked the sickening admission out: ‘Yes, Master Freddy.’
‘And baths and proper toilets and the rest are privileges, not rights. You have no rights down here, only duties, understood?’
‘Yes, Master Freddy.’
‘But you’ve still got to earn them. Tell me again what you have to do.’
‘I have to suck you’re cock, Master Freddy.’
‘Now that’s not quite right, is it?’
‘I have to beg to suck your cock,’ Ruth hastily corrected herself.
‘And if you don’t do it well you go right back into your cell. Any disobedience from now on and you go back in there with taped hands, no soap or showers and having to crap on paper. Understood?’
The threat horrified her. How could such ordinary things make her so vulnerable to such a monster! It wasn’t fair! But her time in the terrible cell had sapped her courage and now it reduced her to degrading meekness. Aloud she said: ‘I understand, Master Freddy. I’ll be good.’
‘Then start right now.’
Stomach churning she said: ‘I beg to suck your cock, master Freddy. I… I’ll give you the best sucking you ever had. I want you to spunk in my mouth… and I’ll swallow it all down… like a good bitch.’
Freddy unzipped his flies and released a thick shaft already semi-hard. He took hold of her hair, pressing her head back against the cell doorframe. She opened her mouth and he shoved his purple plumb inside, making her cheeks bulge. Desperately she began to suck and lick. She had expected his penis to taste vile and cheap somehow, like her memory of him, but it seemed clean enough.
‘That’s good,’ Freddy said approvingly. ‘Show me how much you like my cock. It’s been up each of your cunts and bums, but this is the first oral…’
She was the first to give into him! How could she have been so weak? She screwed up her eyes in disgust.
‘No, don’t close your eyes, bitch!’ Freddy snapped. ‘Look at me. Don’t look away until I’ve come…’
Still sucking and rolling his cock in her mouth, Ruth obediently raised her eyes to her master.
Freddy looked into Ruth’s upturned face with a thrill of satisfaction. Her hot wet mouth was stuffed full of his cock while her eyes were rolled up to him, large round and helplessly appealing. Her nose and cheeks were red from her tears and shame, highlighting a mingling of pathetic gratitude, confusion and fear.
The sight was so incredible that his balls tightened and shaft pulsed, filling her mouth with his semen even as it sent a dizzy thrill of raw, masterful delight though him, so he had to brace himself against her cell roof. For a moment Ruth gagged at the sudden inundation but then she dutifully gulped and licked it all down.
He refocused on her face, her lips still clamped about his cock, her eyes still turned up to him as though begging for his approval. The tarty, treacherous slut had had the fight knocked out of her, all right. Now he’d see if he could break her completely.
Freddy patted Ruth’s head. ‘Good girl…’ he said.


Good story. Enjoyed it immensely.Nice to see the twists and turns. 4 out of 5 (Fred)

A interesting book about the teaching of ladies to be nicer to other people with a lot of tough love. Interesting but ok ending for all concerened 4 out of 5 (homebody)

A good read. Nice psychological twists to go w/ great BDSM 4 out of 5

Author Information

Simon Grail is an artist and author of many strong BDSM content A1 books, including the best sellers "Sex Slave Holiday","Hell School for Teachers" and "The Young Women of St Evals" and "The Bagatelle Club". Past works include:"The Purgatory Club" trilogy, the "Bondmaid" Saga sextet, the "Lesbian MILF Blackmail Gang", "Sisterhood of Submission", the "Dragon School" and "Castle of Slaves" novels, and several short stories including the ongoing "Breaking in..." and "Nightmare in..." series.


Publisher Information

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