Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Hungry Guy and Lady Fuschia
Title: HUNGRY FOR FUSCHIA PART 2
Universe: Hungry For
Summary: While on holiday in London, Hungry Guy buys a slave girl at a
slave auction in a warehouse in The Docklands, and brings her back home to
the States with him...
Keywords: M/F Mpov Mdom Fsub cons piv oral anal ws choke strangle reluc
rom caution
Language: english

   HUNGRY FOR FUSCHIA
BY: Hungry Guy and Lady Fuschia

   ***************************************** * CHAPTER 2 - GUY BRINGS HIS
SLAVE HOME * *****************************************

   Eight hours later bought them to a smooth landing at Newark Airport in
New Jersey in America.

   "C'mon, Fuschia!" Guy urged.  "Hurry up!"

   "Yes, sir," Fuschia gasped as she lugged the heavy bags through the
airport terminal to the monorail station.

   Guy smiled at the occasional bystander who gawked at the
ordinary-looking fellow being followed by a halfway-naked slut lugging his
bags for him.

   Taking their seats, Fuschia leaned against Guy as the monorail train
lumbered slowly down the track from terminal to terminal, and finally away
from the airport.  Five minutes later, the monorail stopped again at the
Amtrak station on the Northeast Corridor Line a couple of miles from the
airport.

   Guy then bought an extra train ticket for Fuschia, checked their
baggage, and saw that the next train to Schenectady didn't leave for
another two hours.  Guy considered that it had been too long since his cock
had been down Fuschia's throat.  Alas, there was nowhere sufficiently
private, and they were still three hours from his house by train.

   "Are you hungry?" Guy asked his slave woman.

   "Yes sir," she said.

   They found a restaurant in the station where they had a quick meal. 
Then, an hour later, they were waiting on the platform for their train.

   A train to Washington DC stopped briefly on the southbound track, then
their northbound train arrived shortly after.

   Upon taking their seats, the train sped ahead and arrived in New York
City a few minutes later.  The train held over in New York for about a
half-hour before leaving the station and heading north through
Manhattan--the heart of New York City.  Crossing the Harlem River brought
them through some woods and then the train broke out into a scenic vista
along the eastern shore of the Hudson River.  The hours passed uneventfully
as the train sped northward at breakneck speed while the scenery turned
more and more rural.  Then, just as the scenery began to turn more urban
again, the train pulled into the Rensselear Station.

   Guy's car was waiting for them in the long-term car park under the
station, and it was another half-hour drive to his house.

   By the time they got in the door, it was past midnight and Guy was
exhausted from their travels.

   "We're taking a quick shower and hopping into bed, Fuschia," he told
her.

   Fuschia yawned and said, "Yes, master.  Let's."

   Under the warm water, Guy drew Fuschia close and kissed her, then told
her to wash him.  Then he did the same for her.  He kissed her again, and
led her to bed, still naked from the shower.

   "Ah!  It feels good to be home in my own bed again!"

   Snuggling in bed, Guy mounted Fuschia in eager anticipation of moments
to come when Fuschia once again asked, "Master?"

   "Yes?"

   "Please give me an orgasm tonight!  Please, master!  Please!"

   Guy yawned, "I'm tired and I just want to bang you quick and go to
sleep. Maybe tomorrow."

   "Yes sir," she said softly.

   He reached down, expecting to have to work her wet this time, but was
surprised yet again to plunge his fingertips into moist flesh.

   "My word!  Are you wet constantly, wench?"

   "I need release, master!" she panted.  "I haven't had release at the
hands of a man for weeks, and I've been just so randy since the day you
bought me."

   Guy paused in thought for a moment, then got off her.

   Fuschia sat up quick.  "Master!  Did I say something wrong?"

   "Not at all, my sweet slave!  A hot shower will often do wonders to
invigorate a man's libido.  You're about to get your request serviced." He
added with a chuckle, "But you may wish you hadn't."

   Guy removed a large black satchel from a closet by his bed and, after
rooting around for a moment, removed several lengths of light rope.

   Approaching the bed from the side, he tied one of each of four lengths
of rope to each of her wrists and ankles, then tied her spread-eagle to his
brass bed frame, stretching her arms and legs out tightly.

   "Oh, Master!" she gasped as he mounted her once again with still one
more rope in his hand.  "What will you do with that one?"

   Guy wrapped the rope around her neck and pulled it tightly, cutting off
her air.  He tied it in a neat bow as he met Fuschia's panic-stricken gaze.
With a smile, he crawled down her body between her legs and ever so gently
licked along the seam between her labia without parting it with his tongue.

   Her body quivered slightly to his oral touch, though she remained in
choked silence.  Pressing his tongue against the seam with slightly more
pressure, he parted her labia with his tongue and licked slowly up over the
opening of her vagina to her clitoris and back down again.

   Normally, he would delight in lingering and teasing a woman in this way,
but knowing that he had to bring her off quickly before she suffocated, he
moved straight away to her clit and sucked the little nub into his mouth.

   Holding it deep in his mouth with the suction of his breath, he licked
and flicked the tiny top with his tongue, drinking tiny wisps of her juices
at the same time.

   Then, sucking on it like a lolli, he drew it in and out, and in and out,
bringing her ever closer to climax.

   It seemed odd to Guy for a woman to be so utterly silent at such a time,
which only reminded him of the need to act quickly.

   He sucked in and out with greater vigor until, at last, she began
bucking with every twitch of his mouth.  What a rush to be in direct
control over a woman's orgasm this way!  To be able to play her clit like a
trumpet!

   Mindful of the time, he stopped and climbed up her body.  Her complexion
had a tinge of blue, and her eyes were glazed over and failed to focus
while she rolled her head from side to side.

   Guy quickly untied the rope.  Fuschia immediately began sputtering and
coughing, struggling to catch her breath.

   The danger over, Guy lay upon her and slid his hungry member into her
where he had just made her conveniently sopping wet for him to do so.

   The combined wetness of his saliva and her own feminine juices made for
an amply slippery entry, and he slid into her easily.  Sucking on her
genitals had already brought him close to his own climax, so he exploded
inside her with little effort.

   At that, the day's exhaustion took over, and he fell to sleep upon her
once again.

   ###

   Come morning, Guy yawned while lying upon Fuschia in her first morning
in America.  She was still tied, spread-eagle, to his bed while he lay upon
her.  He was horny again, as he often was in the morning, and reached down
between her legs to feel how eager she was to be penetrated yet again.  He
was no longer surprised to find his fingers suitably wet.

   Fuschia smiled as he wrapped his fingers around her throat and he pushed
his hips down and entered her.  It was so much more satisfying to be
fucking his slave in his own large bed than in some single bed in a tiny
hotel room.  Feeling his cock slide in and out of her soaking pussy brought
him ever closer to orgasm while she slowly turned blue.  Her wrists and
ankles bound, forcing her to endure whatever indignity and risk to her life
that he chose, added to the thrill such that he exploded into her without
much effort.

   He released his grasp from her neck and lay upon her as the thrill of
his orgasm subsided.

   After a bit of a sleep-in, he rolled off her and climbed out of bed. 
Feeling hungry, he headed out of the room.  He grabbed that manila folder
with Fuschia's papers in it as he left.

   Fuschia asked in a meek voice, "Master?  Are you going to leave me like
this?"

   Without turning to face her, he said, "Yeah.  I might want to fuck you
again later." He exited the bedroom and went downstairs to cook some bacon
and waffles for breakfast.

   Putting his feet up on the coffee table, he began searching through that
envelope while eating and sipping a cup of Earl Gray tea that he had bought
at Harrods.  He flipped through her British passport, and studied the photo
on her driver license for a few moments.  Then he pulled out a document
that looked like a detailed resume.  "Curriculum Vitae," it was titled. 
_Ah,_ he thought, _This is that CV.  What the British call a resume._
Though it was far more detailed than any resume he had ever seen.  Reading
through it, he followed her career doing legal work involving her local
fire brigade.  _Hmm, didn't the auctioneer mention something about a fire
brigade?_

   He slid the documents back into the folder and clicked on the TV whilst
he nibbled on a slice of bacon, whereupon he found a _Star Trek_ marathon
on _Spike TV_ to enjoy his breakfast by.

   By the end of that one episode, he was, indeed, horny again.  He
wondered if he could actually come again so soon, but that mattered not,
for he had wanted to try so many of his homemade toys for so long, and now
that he had a slave to use however he saw fit to use her, the time was
nigh.

   During the station break, he returned upstairs, walked around the bed to
that special closet once again, and rooted through his toy bag until he
found an item made of numerous leather straps and rings.  He removed a
heavy leather collar with various rings and attachment points mounted upon
it.  The collar had a somewhat peculiar small rectangular box attached to
it, covered in leather, with a tiny padlock hanging from it.  He also
extracted an adult incontinence diaper from a package that he had purchased
from a medical supply store that he had purchased for just this occasion.

   Turning to face her, he looked down at her tied to his bed as she looked
up at him with pleading eyes.  "Master?  I need to use the loo!  Please,
Master!"

   "In a moment," he answered held the collar up for Fuschia to see, though
she was still tied spread-eagle onto his bed.

   Two small metal prongs passed through the leather under where the
leather box was mounted.  Two metal strips, attached to those two prongs,
ran parallel along the inner surface of the collar.

   Fuschia swallowed at the sight.

   Guy said, "Back in London, some bloke was selling an electric slave
collar something like this.  Remember?"

   "Yes, Master.  At the Camden Town market."

   "But mine's better!"

   "How so, Master?" she squeaked.

   "Here in the States, pet stores sell dog training collars operated by
wireless remote control.  But like that one we saw in London, they're
flimsy and easily removed by human hands."

   "Yes, Master."

   "So I bought one," he continued, "and removed the shocker unit, and
mounted it on a slave collar.  Then I enclosed the electronic part with a
leather box mounted on the collar so that the slave can't remove the
battery or otherwise defeat it."

   Fuschia gasped once again, her gaze glued to the collar.

   Guy then lifted the heavy collar up placed it around her neck as she
squirmed helpless tied to the bed, he then snapped a heavy brass padlock to
the clasp at the back of her neck.

   Then, he untied her wrists and ankles.  "Now you may use the loo, then
come back here."

   "Yes, Master!" she said and rushed into the bathroom and closed the
door. Guy walked over and opened the door as she was just sitting on the
toilet.

   "Never close a door on me!" he scolded.

   "I'm sorry, Master!" she squeaked.

   "You're a slave.  You have no privacy any more.  Understand?"

   "Yes, Master.  I'm sorry."

   Guy reached over to his night table, picked up his keys, and pressed a
button on what looked like a remote car alarm fob.

   Fuschia screamed and threw herself onto the floor, clawing furiously at
the collar around her neck.

   After a moment, Guy released the button and Fuschia caught her breath.
"Please master!  I'm sorry!  I'll obey you perfectly!  I'll do anything you
say!  Please don't do that to me again!  Please!"

   Guy told her to finish what she had to do, and stood leaning against the
doorframe, watching her do what he needed to do as she turned slightly red.


   Fuschia finished her business and stepped back into the bedroom where
Guy handed her the collection of leather straps and steel rings.

   She hefted the heavy apparatus over her shoulder and followed Guy
downstairs.  The next episode of _Start Trek_ had just begun, so he sat on
the sofa and told Fuschia to set the harness down and to fetch him a couple
of beers, bring them in a Styrofoam cooler, and set it by the sofa.

   While she was in the kitchen searching for the requested items--he know
it would take her a while to learn where he kept everything--he untangled
the harness.  It was, in fact, two harnesses in one.  One harness fit
snugly over a woman's head with a steel ring strapped tightly in her mouth.
The other harness fit around his hips and under his legs, and held that
self-same ring snugly to the base of his cock.  Thusly, he could wear a
slave like that indefinitely.

   He had also brought down a pair of leather wrist shackles for her.

   When Fuschia finally emerged from the kitchen with that cooler of beer,
nicely filled with ice, Guy told her to put the adult diaper on and then
kneel before him in front of the sofa.

   She looked a little embarrassed to put the diaper on, but she obeyed and
then knelt at his feet.  She looked up at him as he stepped around and
shackled her wrists behind her back.  Then he fitted the harness over her
head and buckled it in several places at the back of her head, forcing that
ring into her mouth and holding her jaw open wide.

   "Aaahhh!  Aaahhhh!" she gasped as he stepped around to face her.  The
bulk of the leather straps of that harness hung limply from that ring
embedded in her mouth.

   Grabbing the harness, he spread it open and stepped into it.  First one
foot, and then the other.  Then he pulled it up, as if pulling up a pair of
slacks, yanking her face up with it.  He pulled it up and slid his cock
through that ring in her mouth.  Buckling the belt buckle pulled that ring
tightly to his crotch, and forced his hard cock past her throat and deep
down her esophagus.

   Fuschia immediately began choking and gagging and bucking violently.

   Guy sat on the sofa, pulling her face down with his hips.  Tears rained
down her cheeks from her bulging eyes.

   "Get used to the sensation!" he scolded her.  "You're going to spend
many days with my cock down your throat in the years to come!"

   He lifted his legs up over her shoulders, burying her face in his
crotch, and set his feet upon the table.  Looking down, all that was
visible was the top of her head squeezed between his hairy thighs.

   The sensation was a new definition of ecstasy.  Her gagging squeezed and
massaged his cock, practically milking it.  In no time at all, he exploded
into her throat.  That evoked even stronger gagging from her, drawing even
more cum from his loins.  The vicious cycle repeated itself for a while, as
her gagging maintained his orgasm, while his throbbing cock deep down her
throat continued to make her gag and choke.

   But eventually his balls ran dry, as balls are wont to do under these
situations, and his cock softened.  Her gag reflex subsided and she began
panting, sending a tiny breeze in and out across his pubic hair.

   He reached for a beer and sat back to watch Captain Piccard and the rest
of the crew escape whatever space-time anomaly or alien threat to be sent
their way.

   As the _Star Trek_ marathon progressed, the beer was flowing through his
body as beer is wont to do.

   During the subsequent episode, his cock grew hard simply from the
sensation of being perpetually engulfed in a woman's mouth.  Her gag reflex
took over once again and thoroughly drained him once more.

   By evening, he had a nice beer buzz.  He imagined that much of the beer
that he had drunk so far had found its way into her diaper.  He had also
grown hungry.  But not wanting to disengage his cock from his slave's
mouth, he stood and walked slowly into the kitchen as she crawled backward
in front of him with her mouth glued to his crotch.  He nuked some shrimp
and chicken nuggets, then returned to the sofa to enjoy his dinner during
the last episode of the _Star Trek_ marathon that day.

   Upon the conclusion of the episode, the clock on the TV chimed 6 PM.  He
stood and yawned.  But the dozen or so beers that he had drank during the
day knocked him back down on the sofa in a wave of nausea.

   He clicked off the TV, leaned back, and closed his eyes.  When he opened
them again, the clock announced it to be 11:30 PM.  "Oh my!" he moaned.  He
had to take a wicked piss, so he and tried to stand to go to the toilet,
only to fall face forward on top of Fuschia who was still harnessed to his
cock.

   He tried to sit up, and Fuschia immediately began kicking and trashing
about her face lay pinned under the full weight of his body bearing down by
his crotch upon her jaw.

   He sat up, almost wrenching her head off of her shoulders, and emptied
his bursting bladder into her throat one more time.

   Fully relieved, he unbuckled the harness from around his waist and
stepped out of it.  Fuschia met his gaze with bloodshot eyes, then jumped
up and ran headlong into his downstairs lavatory whereupon she puked up the
most vile-smelling of vomit of all time that smelled like a mix of beer and
piss.

   Guy staggered over to the lavatory and slurred, "You stupid slave!  You
reject my gifts to you!"

   She leaned up from the toilet and faced him.  "I'm sorry, Master!  I
couldn't help it!  I've never done anything this extreme before!"

   "No?"

   "Well, not since that time in the London Eye the day after you bought
me, but that was just a little." She made the strangest sound again, and
instantly turned to fill the toilet with ever more piss-beer-flavored puke.

   Guy felt his own share of queasiness, so when Fuschia finished puking,
he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her upstairs.

   He told her to go into the bathroom, and throw her wet diaper in the
trash.

   While she did so, he opened his "special" closet yet again and he pulled
out three large green steamer trunks.

   "What are you doing, Master?" she asked as she entered his bedroom.

   "You'll see."

   Opening the trunks, he removed an assortment of parts to some sort of
homemade machine.  Laying the pieces out on the floor, he began bolting it
together.  A half hour later, he had assembled what appeared to be a long
narrow padded platform with various stockades, belts, and shackles along
its length, and with a white box at one end.  He unlatched the box and
swung the upper half up open revealing the bottom half to be lined with
plastic with a drain hole at one side.

   "Get in there," he said.

   "Get in?" she squeaked.  "In that--thing, Master?"

   "Yeah!  C'mon!  Get your ass in there!  Now!"

   Fuschia lay down on the platform.  Guy closed a stockade over her
ankles, attached her wrist shackles to bolts on the side of the machine,
and buckled a number of belts across her chest, belly and legs.  He then
slid a section of PVC pipe between her legs, through an oval shaped hole in
the machine under her bum, with a slot in the pipe facing her pussy.

   Guy paused.  "I built this years ago, more to fulfill a fantasy than
anything, never expecting that I'd actually get to use it."

   Fuschia whimpered a reply as he slid a small plastic tub in a slot in
the side of the machine such that it would be directly under that hole. 
"In this machine, you can pee and poo as you need to." He slid another
plastic tub under the head box, under that drain hole.

   Lastly, he closed the box over her head and latched it, framing her face
in an oval hole that almost looked like her head was inside a toilet bowl.

   With his slave so installed, and being past midnight just then, he went
to the bathroom to take a quick shower.  Shortly after, returning to his
bedroom after his shower, Fuschia was sobbing slightly.

   "What's wrong?" he asked.

   "What is this thing I'm in?" she whimpered.  "What are you going to do
to me?"

   "Actually, I gotta pee again."

   "No!" she shrieked as he stood up to the box as if facing a toilet.  He
pointed his dick downward and let go.  A hot stream of piss shot out of the
end of his dick and splashed against her face.

   His piss flowed down the sides of her face, and into her hair, and
dribbled noisily into that plastic tub under the drain hole.

   At that, he yawned, got into bed, and closed the light.

   Fuschia's gentle sobbing was music to his ears that quickly put him to
slumber.

   * TO BE CONTINUED *