THRILLING RAPE FANTASIES
THE ADVENTURES OF ALISON
VOLUME II
‘HAPPINESS IN SERVITUDE’
note… this story is a continuation of “Thrilling Rape Fantasies
I” which implies that it would probably be better to read that one first,
although readers familiar with the genre will have no trouble picking it up from
here...
CHAPTER ONE
It is
late into the wee hours of a rainy muggy August night as the long black limo
pulls up to the gleaming chrome and glass façade of the uptown highrise
apartment building where Alison is kept. Tony the hulking bodyguard-chauffeur
gets out of the driver’s seat and walks around the car to open the door for his
passengers. As he helps Fiona out of the car the
beautiful young blonde stirs fitfully, awakening from her doze where she
reclines in the back of the limo with her head resting on her Master’s
shoulder.
“We’re
home…” Slate announces softly in the exhausted slave-girl’s ear, gently pushing
her head off his dark-suited shoulder and gathering himself
to rise. He takes her by the arm as she struggles to sit herself up with her
hands still cuffed behind her back beneath the long white satin cape that
covers her half-naked body. Underneath the cape all she is wearing are her
severely-restrictive white corset, her nylons and heels and of course the rings
which pierce her bright pink nipples and her soft shaved cunt. She moans
softly, the burning pain of her recently-whipped and welted buttocks flaring
hotly as she returns to consciousness. Tony the chauffeur reaches in from outside to help
her get out of the car. Between the two men, they assist the caped and bound
blonde across the sidewalk toward the gleaming chrome and glass façade of the
highrise office tower and apartment building where Alison has been a virtual
captive in her own apartment for the last week as her training in sexual
servitude has progressed. She can’t really think of it as her home anymore… not
after everything that has happened there. Old Fred the night doorman rouses
himself to open the door for them. “Late night, huh, folks?…”
Slate favors him with a vague smile as their footsteps echo across the empty
lobby and into the waiting private elevator, which only runs up to the
penthouse level. If the old geezer sees anything unusual in the enslaved young
woman’s condition, the fact that his checks are drawn on Slate’s building
management company encourages him to keep his mouth shut. Besides which he
knows that Slate is not someone you would want to annoy.
The four
of them ride up in the elevator quietly, the two men supporting the weakened
and wavering slave girl between them as they step out on the top floor and
escort Fiona and Alison back to their apartment. Fiona opens the door with one
of those magnetic key cards which she had been given by Slate as Mistress of
the house but which only he possesses the code for. The door locks
electronically on both sides, preventing anyone from entering or leaving
without the passkey. So even if Alison were to somehow awaken in the dead of
night and somehow free herself from the chains holding her to her bed, there’s
no way she could get out of the apartment short of jumping out the window,
forty-five stories up. In fact, thoughts of escape are the last thing on
Alison’s mind right now as her three companions
half-carry the semi-conscious young woman directly into her frilly girlish
bedroom, now decked out with all kinds of bizarre bondage gear. The second that
the two men release her and Fiona takes the cape from around her shoulders, the
cuffed and beaten blonde collapses gratefully on the white satin-covered bed,
sinking swiftly into a black well of unconsciousness.
Her
mistress returns from the closet where she has gone to hang up Alison’s cape to
roll the girl over on her belly, loosening the laces of her corset a couple of
inches to let her rest more easily during the night. She doesn’t take it off
completely and even as the girl sleeps it will continue to mold Alison’s
already=slender form. After several months of this training regimen, the
blonde’s body will become so deformed
and atrophied by this relentless constriction that it will become impossible
for her to sit or stand without the corset’s support, especially as her waist
is reduced to twelve or fourteen inches. Of course, this just will serve to
make her that much more helpless…
While the
girl is lying there on her belly, Fiona takes the time to prepare one more
injection. Something to help her sleep… she doesn’t want Alison waking up two
hours from now from pain. She jabs the needle home in one of the passed-out sex
slave’s lacerated butt cheeks, giving her a good dose of sedative pain-killer
and then gently rubbing some ointment on the oozing welts that stripe the
girl’s still reddened backside. Unclipping the blonde’s wrist bracelets from
behind her back, she takes them off briefly to peel the long white gloves off
of Alison’s arms, then flips the girl over and refastens the girl’s cuffed
hands to her collar and attaches the collar to the headboard of the bed by an
eighteen-inch length of silver chain. Not that Alison is going anywhere, but
it’s good for her to wake up and find herself chained to the bed. Puts her in the proper frame of mind for the rest of the day.
As Fiona reaches down to unfasten the seven
earrings that pierce each of Alison’s delicate translucent ears, Slate leans
over her to inspect the silver piercings in the knocked=out submissive’s
sweetly shaved slit one more time. He fingers them speculatively as the
brunette unlaces Alison’s high-heeled white boots and removes her come-stained
and laddered stockings, tossing them in the trash. “Nighty night, little
Alison… Now you’re all tucked in…” the
hard-faced older man remarks ironically. “I hope you enjoyed your coming-out
party.”
Slate and
Fiona leave the room, turning out the lights and returning to the living room,
where the stolid Tony has been patiently waiting. “Have her ready for me at six
tomorrow evening. Make sure she’s wearing something dramatic. I expect her to
entertain some people…” He instructs the brunette. “And don’t let that greasy tattoo artist wear
her out too much. He should be able to finish with his work by tomorrow,
anyway, at least for now.” Fiona mumbles her assent as Slate turns his back to
her, already making for the door with Tony close on his heels.
CHAPTER TWO
Alison
sleeps long and deeply, too exhausted to even dream. By the time she starts to
come to, the sun is already high in the sky and her bladder is bursting. The
little clock on the bedside table reads almost
In a
moment her kinky brunette keeper is standing there over her, already dressed in
a shiny black leotard and stretch pants, high-heeled boots on her feet and her
little quirt and beeper hanging from her belt. In her hand she holds Alison’s
white leash. “Good morning, little sex puppy…” she greets her blonde roommate
sarcastically. “Is it time to go walkies…?” “Please, Mistress…” the helpless
former receptionist croaks out through her dry mouth, squirming around on the
bed in her anxiety… “I gotta go…” Fiona reaches down to fasten the leash to the
ring attached to the bottom of the burning silver shaft piercing vertically through the anxious
slavegirl’s sore and tender clit,
unfastening Alison’s collar from the chain connecting it to the
headboard and releasing her wrist cuffs from the ring at the front of the
choker, still leaving them tightly clipped together in front of her.
Painfully, the multiply-pierced young blonde rises form
her bed, stiff and sore all over, her recently-whipped buttocks still very
tender where the blackish stripes of her Master’s crop are starting to heal
over and the piercings in her flesh throbbing and burning abominably. She feels
like the inside of her rectum has been used for a punching bag. Besides that,
her nose is running and her eyes are red and watery, a nauseous feeling
building up in the pit of her stomach as the sick craving for more of Slate’s
special synthetic drug blend builds up in her body, jangling her nerve ends.
Apparently the stuff creates a powerful physical addiction… a great marketing tool
when the stuff is produced in sufficient quantities to hit the streets. Anybody
dealing this shit will be guaranteed a steady stream of repeat customers.
Seeing her captive wince as she gets up from the bed and the brunette leads her
to the bathroom by the leash attached to her cunt, Fiona reassures her. “Don’t worry, cupcake… We’ll get you straightened out as soon as
you get done doing your business. I’ve got your breakfast all ready for you…”
she says, pointing to the silver tray already laid out on the bedside table
with its array of shining syringes and little vials. “Now hurry up… it’s
getting late already.”
Clad in
nothing but her somewhat loosened white patent corset, the strung-out blonde
squats gratefully on the toilet, sighing in relief as the long stream of her
urine splashes into the bowl, her Mistress standing over her holding up the
leash connected to her ringed little clit so it doesn’t get wet. Alison reaches
for the toilet tissue to wipe herself with her cuffed hands, struggling awkwardly
as she gingerly brings the wad of paper up between her ringed inner labia. She
can feel the implacable coldness of the silver circlets against her fingers.
This is the first time since she has been pierced that she has been able to
touch them, and it sends a shiver down her spine to be reminded of their
penetrating presence, reawakening feelings of fearful submission and childlike
dependence.
“Come
along, Alison…” Fiona demands, tugging slightly on the leash, drawing a little
squeak from her captive and sending a jolt of pain through the girl’s skewered
clit, which hardens and rises involuntarily in response… “
It’s time for your morning eye-opener.” Quickly, the enslaved young miss
rises from the commode, flushing it and following docily behind as her mistress
leads her by the leash back into the bedroom for her injections. Where will she
get it this time? In the tits? In
her pussy? Up the ass? The cute blonde shudders
in apprehension, but still looks forward to the relief and soothing sensual
rush that she knows the needles will bring. Whatever has been planned for her
is going to happen anyway… at least the drugs will help her to bear it, perhaps
even find pleasure in it…
Fiona
leads Alison back to her frilly four-poster bed, ordering the blonde to lie
down on her back and unclipping the leash from the ring at the top of her
girlish shaved slit. “Are you gonna hold still for this or do I have to
restrain you?” the brunette asks as she reaches over to take up the first of
the syringes she has filled. Alison lies there squirming in mounting anxiety as
she eyes the gleaming hypodermic… “You… You better tie me, Mistress…” the
Innocent-faced young woman admits, voluntarily holding her hands up over her
head for Fiona to fasten them to the ring in the headboard. “It’s just easier
that way, if I’m, you know, helpless… I’m not sure if I could control myself,
otherwise.” Fiona smirks to herself, pleased with her little trainee’s fawning
and submissive cooperation. So she needs to be tied and she knows it. That’s
cute… real cute. Should make a poignant moment on the video.
Putting
down the syringe for the moment, the brunette reaches over into the chest of
bondage gear for some black leather ankle cuffs, buckling them tightly around
Alison’s slender bare legs. She fastens the girl’s crossed wrists to the center
of the headboard, pulling her body down on the bed so that they are stretched
tightly above her. Then she takes first one ankle and then the other, bending
the breathless blonde’s knees back on either side and opening her legs to
fasten the girl’s ankles by
chains to the posts at the upper corners of the bed, pulling her
roommate’s hairless and ringed crotch open wide and forcing her weight back
onto the small of her back so that her hips are raised as if for fucking. Once
more, Alison finds herself tied and helpless, flat on her back with her pussy
and asshole exposed, awaiting the probe of her Mistress’ penetrating needles.
She bites her lip and closes her eyes, whimpering slightly, knowing what’s coming.
THRILLING RAPE FANTASIES
THE ADVENTURES OF ALISON
VOLUME II
‘HAPPINESS IN SERVITUDE’
note… this story is a continuation of “Thrilling Rape Fantasies
I” which implies that it would probably be better to read that one first,
although readers familiar with the genre will have no trouble picking it up from
here...
CHAPTER ONE
It is
late into the wee hours of a rainy muggy August night as the long black limo pulls up to the gleaming chrome and glass façade of the
uptown highrise apartment building where Alison is kept. Tony the hulking
bodyguard-chauffeur gets out of the driver’s seat and walks around the car to
open the door for his passengers. As he helps Fiona out of the car the
beautiful young blonde stirs fitfully, awakening from her doze where she
reclines in the back of the limo with her head resting on her Master’s
shoulder.
“We’re
home…” Slate announces softly in the exhausted slave-girl’s ear, gently pushing
her head off his dark-suited shoulder and gathering himself
to rise. He takes her by the arm as she struggles to sit herself up with her
hands still cuffed behind her back beneath the long white satin cape that
covers her half-naked body. Underneath the cape all she is wearing are her
severely-restrictive white corset, her nylons and heels and of course the rings
which pierce her bright pink nipples and her soft shaved cunt. She moans
softly, the burning pain of her recently-whipped and welted buttocks flaring
hotly as she returns to consciousness. Tony the chauffeur reaches in from outside to help
her get out of the car. Between the two men, they assist the caped and bound
blonde across the sidewalk toward the gleaming chrome and glass façade of the
highrise office tower and apartment building where Alison has been a virtual
captive in her own apartment for the last week as her training in sexual
servitude has progressed. She can’t really think of it as her home anymore… not
after everything that has happened there. Old Fred the night doorman rouses
himself to open the door for them. “Late night, huh, folks?…”
Slate favors him with a vague smile as their footsteps echo across the empty
lobby and into the waiting private elevator, which only runs up to the
penthouse level. If the old geezer sees anything unusual in the enslaved young
woman’s condition, the fact that his checks are drawn on Slate’s building
management company encourages him to keep his mouth shut. Besides which he
knows that Slate is not someone you would want to annoy.
The four
of them ride up in the elevator quietly, the two men supporting the weakened
and wavering slave girl between them as they step out on the top floor and
escort Fiona and Alison back to their apartment. Fiona opens the door with one
of those magnetic key cards which she had been given by Slate as Mistress of
the house but which only he possesses the code for. The door locks
electronically on both sides, preventing anyone from entering or leaving
without the passkey. So even if Alison were to somehow awaken in the dead of
night and somehow free herself from the chains holding her to her bed, there’s
no way she could get out of the apartment short of jumping out the window,
forty-five stories up. In fact, thoughts of escape are the last thing on
Alison’s mind right now as her three companions
half-carry the semi-conscious young woman directly into her frilly girlish
bedroom, now decked out with all kinds of bizarre bondage gear. The second that
the two men release her and Fiona takes the cape from around her shoulders, the
cuffed and beaten blonde collapses gratefully on the white satin-covered bed,
sinking swiftly into a black well of unconsciousness.
Her
mistress returns from the closet where she has gone to hang up Alison’s cape to
roll the girl over on her belly, loosening the laces of her corset a couple of
inches to let her rest more easily during the night. She doesn’t take it off
completely and even as the girl sleeps it will continue to mold Alison’s
already=slender form. After several months of this training regimen, the
blonde’s body will become so deformed
and atrophied by this relentless constriction that it will become impossible
for her to sit or stand without the corset’s support, especially as her waist
is reduced to twelve or fourteen inches. Of course, this just will serve to
make her that much more helpless…
While the
girl is lying there on her belly, Fiona takes the time to prepare one more
injection. Something to help her sleep… she doesn’t want Alison waking up two
hours from now from pain. She jabs the needle home in one of the passed-out sex
slave’s lacerated butt cheeks, giving her a good dose of sedative pain-killer
and then gently rubbing some ointment on the oozing welts that stripe the
girl’s still reddened backside. Unclipping the blonde’s wrist bracelets from
behind her back, she takes them off briefly to peel the long white gloves off
of Alison’s arms, then flips the girl over and refastens the girl’s cuffed
hands to her collar and attaches the collar to the headboard of the bed by an
eighteen-inch length of silver chain. Not that Alison is going anywhere, but
it’s good for her to wake up and find herself chained to the bed. Puts her in the proper frame of mind for the rest of the day.
As Fiona reaches down to unfasten the seven
earrings that pierce each of Alison’s delicate translucent ears, Slate leans
over her to inspect the silver piercings in the knocked=out submissive’s
sweetly shaved slit one more time. He fingers them speculatively as the
brunette unlaces Alison’s high-heeled white boots and removes her come-stained
and laddered stockings, tossing them in the trash. “Nighty night, little
Alison… Now you’re all tucked in…” the
hard-faced older man remarks ironically. “I hope you enjoyed your coming-out
party.”
Slate and
Fiona leave the room, turning out the lights and returning to the living room,
where the stolid Tony has been patiently waiting. “Have her ready for me at six
tomorrow evening. Make sure she’s wearing something dramatic. I expect her to
entertain some people…” He instructs the brunette. “And don’t let that greasy tattoo artist wear
her out too much. He should be able to finish with his work by tomorrow,
anyway, at least for now.” Fiona mumbles her assent as Slate turns his back to
her, already making for the door with Tony close on his heels.
CHAPTER TWO
Alison
sleeps long and deeply, too exhausted to even dream. By the time she starts to
come to, the sun is already high in the sky and her bladder is bursting. The
little clock on the bedside table reads almost
In a
moment her kinky brunette keeper is standing there over her, already dressed in
a shiny black leotard and stretch pants, high-heeled boots on her feet and her
little quirt and beeper hanging from her belt. In her hand she holds Alison’s
white leash. “Good morning, little sex puppy…” she greets her blonde roommate
sarcastically. “Is it time to go walkies…?” “Please, Mistress…” the helpless
former receptionist croaks out through her dry mouth, squirming around on the
bed in her anxiety… “I gotta go…” Fiona reaches down to fasten the leash to the
ring attached to the bottom of the burning silver shaft piercing vertically through the anxious
slavegirl’s sore and tender clit,
unfastening Alison’s collar from the chain connecting it to the
headboard and releasing her wrist cuffs from the ring at the front of the
choker, still leaving them tightly clipped together in front of her.
Painfully, the multiply-pierced young blonde rises form
her bed, stiff and sore all over, her recently-whipped buttocks still very
tender where the blackish stripes of her Master’s crop are starting to heal
over and the piercings in her flesh throbbing and burning abominably. She feels
like the inside of her rectum has been used for a punching bag. Besides that,
her nose is running and her eyes are red and watery, a nauseous feeling
building up in the pit of her stomach as the sick craving for more of Slate’s
special synthetic drug blend builds up in her body, jangling her nerve ends.
Apparently the stuff creates a powerful physical addiction… a great marketing tool
when the stuff is produced in sufficient quantities to hit the streets. Anybody
dealing this shit will be guaranteed a steady stream of repeat customers.
Seeing her captive wince as she gets up from the bed and the brunette leads her
to the bathroom by the leash attached to her cunt, Fiona reassures her. “Don’t worry, cupcake… We’ll get you straightened out as soon as
you get done doing your business. I’ve got your breakfast all ready for you…”
she says, pointing to the silver tray already laid out on the bedside table
with its array of shining syringes and little vials. “Now hurry up… it’s
getting late already.”
Clad in
nothing but her somewhat loosened white patent corset, the strung-out blonde
squats gratefully on the toilet, sighing in relief as the long stream of her
urine splashes into the bowl, her Mistress standing over her holding up the
leash connected to her ringed little clit so it doesn’t get wet. Alison reaches
for the toilet tissue to wipe herself with her cuffed hands, struggling awkwardly
as she gingerly brings the wad of paper up between her ringed inner labia. She
can feel the implacable coldness of the silver circlets against her fingers.
This is the first time since she has been pierced that she has been able to
touch them, and it sends a shiver down her spine to be reminded of their
penetrating presence, reawakening feelings of fearful submission and childlike
dependence.
“Come
along, Alison…” Fiona demands, tugging slightly on the leash, drawing a little
squeak from her captive and sending a jolt of pain through the girl’s skewered
clit, which hardens and rises involuntarily in response… “
It’s time for your morning eye-opener.” Quickly, the enslaved young miss
rises from the commode, flushing it and following docily behind as her mistress
leads her by the leash back into the bedroom for her injections. Where will she
get it this time? In the tits? In
her pussy? Up the ass? The cute blonde shudders
in apprehension, but still looks forward to the relief and soothing sensual
rush that she knows the needles will bring. Whatever has been planned for her
is going to happen anyway… at least the drugs will help her to bear it, perhaps
even find pleasure in it…
Fiona
leads Alison back to her frilly four-poster bed, ordering the blonde to lie
down on her back and unclipping the leash from the ring at the top of her
girlish shaved slit. “Are you gonna hold still for this or do I have to
restrain you?” the brunette asks as she reaches over to take up the first of
the syringes she has filled. Alison lies there squirming in mounting anxiety as
she eyes the gleaming hypodermic… “You… You better tie me, Mistress…” the
Innocent-faced young woman admits, voluntarily holding her hands up over her
head for Fiona to fasten them to the ring in the headboard. “It’s just easier
that way, if I’m, you know, helpless… I’m not sure if I could control myself,
otherwise.” Fiona smirks to herself, pleased with her little trainee’s fawning
and submissive cooperation. So she needs to be tied and she knows it. That’s
cute… real cute. Should make a poignant moment on the video.
Putting
down the syringe for the moment, the brunette reaches over into the chest of
bondage gear for some black leather ankle cuffs, buckling them tightly around
Alison’s slender bare legs. She fastens the girl’s crossed wrists to the center
of the headboard, pulling her body down on the bed so that they are stretched
tightly above her. Then she takes first one ankle and then the other, bending
the breathless blonde’s knees back on either side and opening her legs to
fasten the girl’s ankles by
chains to the posts at the upper corners of the bed, pulling her
roommate’s hairless and ringed crotch open wide and forcing her weight back
onto the small of her back so that her hips are raised as if for fucking. Once
more, Alison finds herself tied and helpless, flat on her back with her pussy
and asshole exposed, awaiting the probe of her Mistress’ penetrating needles.
She bites her lip and closes her eyes, whimpering slightly, knowing what’s coming.
CHAPTER TWO
Alison’s
hands pull at the cuffs that fasten them up there over her head, suddenly
excited by her helplessness. She looks down over her own pale and hairless
body, squirming slightly in anxiety, gasping as Fiona snaps on a pair of rubber
gloves reaches down to separate her suddenly moistening inner labia, pulling
them gently apart by the little rings that pierce them, opening her up down
there… “You know what I’m going to do with this, don’t you, sweetie…” her
mistress enquires meanly, a sinister glitter in her eyes as she holds the first
syringe with its two-inch needle up so the bound blonde can see it clearly.
“Y…Yes,
Mistress…” the blonde submissive whispers, her eyes wide with fear and a strange
excitement… its scary to have to submit to these injections, but it feels soooo
good afterwards, especially in her hot little cunt and ass… “You’re going to
give it to me right there… there in my pussy or maybe you know in the back…”
“Good guess, cutie…” Fiona confirms as she brings the gleaming chrome lance up
beneath the hood of her roommate’s clit, lightly stabbing at the tender
and rapidly hardening little bud of flesh with the razor-sharp point of the
thing as she pulls up on the ring attached to the bottom of the blonde’s
vertical hood piercing with her other hand, keeping her captive panting in
suspense…
“UNNGGGHHH!!!” Alison cries out shrilly as her catsuited keeper deftly
drives an inch of the chrome-moly needle up into her clitoral shaft, up in and behind the silver
bar that pierces her. The helpless blonde grits her teeth as tears form at the
corners of her eyes with the sudden stinging penetration of her most delicate
and sensitive area. She feels the cooling rush as the solution starts to flow from the tip of the needle, a
slight pressure building inside her flesh Fiona squeezes a few ccs of the
powerful solution within her, a dreamy warmth spreading in her belly and
starting to creep up her spine… After a few moments it no longer hurts, the
piercing pain of the needle fading to a sensation of fullness. Her now drugged
membranes cling to the shaft of the gleaming hypo as it begins to dug deeper,
deeper, a quarter of an inch at a time. Alison moans and thrashes her head
around as it seeks out new and still sensitive spots within her, filling her
feminine nerve center with paralyzingly powerful liquid ecstasy. Alison oohs
and ahhs as her whole lower belly begins to tingle and pulse with a growing
heat that seems to radiate from the point where the nut of the needle now
presses firmly against her pierced clit. The whole two inches of needle is now
buried inside her hot wet cunt, her rings no longer hurting her but rather
throbbing pleasurably within her narcotized flesh.
“Yeah…
you’re digging it now, aren’t you, Alison, you sick little needle freak…?”
Fiona taunts her sadistically. “You like to feel that hypo in your hot little
twat, don’t you…?” “Y…Yes, Mistress…” the increasingly stoned-out blonde admits
dreamily, her head swimming as she floats away on a tide of narcotic bliss… “I…
I do… I can’t help it. It just makes me want to come and come… makes me want a
great big dick to fill me up… fill me up…”
“I know
what you mean…” comments Fiona, finally pulling the now empty hypodermic away
from her captive’s soft shaved slit. “Keep that thought in mind while I turn
you over… this is going to have to go up your ass…” she says menacingly,
referring to the second 10cc syringe with its glittering three-inch needle.
Alison can see it clearly out of the corner of her eye, lying there on the
silver tray on her bedside table beneath the frilly shaded lamp. The brunette turns her over on the bed and
prods the now spaced-out submissive into position with her ass up and her head
down as if waiting to be mounted. “B…But Mistress… it’s so loooong…” the
corseted blonde protests in a babyish little voice, secretly excited and yet
terrified at the thought, knowing that in any case she is going to have to take
its steely length, right now, way up inside her hot slippery bowels, which are
already spasmodically twitching in helpless and delicious anticipation. In
truth, Alison is beginning to find these deeply probing anal injections as
exciting as a good ass fucking. The terror which turns her limbs to jelly just seems
to heighten her arousal until she is quivering like a bowstring. “P… Please, Mistress… don’t make it hurt tooo
much,..,” she implores feebly, feeling
totally vulnerable and exposed with her well-fucked and still slightly swollen
rectum up in the air behind her and her anxiously twisting hands still cuffed
to the headboard. Fiona works a dollop of clear lube into the blonde’s
quivering rear entrance, eliciting a sharp squeak of surprise from the trussed
up slave girl as the rubber gloved fingers penetrate and open her…
“How much
is too much, darling?” Fiona asks her rhetorically as she picks up the shining
glass and steel instrument and bends over the defenseless blonde’s luridly
upthrust tush. Alison buries her head in the pillow, biting it between her
teeth as she feels the scrape of the needle at her tender anal entrance, her
whole body trembling and faint with fear. Her inner bowels are fluttering like
mad, forcing out a bubble of gas with a fruity farting sound. “I’ll overlook
that little outburst… I’m sure it was purely involuntary…” the brunette
announces matter-of-factly.
“Ohhh
Godddd…” Alison moans as she feels the first inch of cold steel penetrate her,
piercing easily through the delicate pink membranes of her rectum into the soft
flesh inside. Instantly the blonde feels a glowing gushy feeling starting to
spread up inside her ass as Fiona starts to work the needle around inside her,
emptying a few ccs right there at the entrance to her hot ass channel and
easing the stabbing pain of the needle until it is a dull pleasant throb.
“Ohhhhhh… OOOOOHHHH…” the sweet little slave slut moans as her mistress digs
deeper, reaching down into her bowels to spread more and more tingling liquid
warmth up inside her adorable tush. It hurts when the needle penetrates into
new and untouched territory, but it feels sooo good
when the drugs flow into her there, so high up inside her ass… Steadily, bit by
bit the dark haired dominatrix works more and more of the fat hypodermic up
into Alison’s spasmodically fluttering asshole.
Alison’s
whole being is concentrated right there at the surgically sharp point of the
needle as another couple of ccs of the
soothing and wickedly exciting solution flow into the depths of her
seethingly receptive anal interior, all other thoughts or feelings driven
completely from her mind. She moans and babbles incoherently, her eyes closed
and her mouth hanging open as a puddle of drool spreads on the pillow beneath
her face. By the time Fiona is done, the slick glass body of the syringe is
buried to the hilt in Alison’s hot ass hole and the three inch needle is deep
up in her bowels somewhere. This deep inside, the bloodstream
carries the drugs almost directly to the brain, hitting her in a dizzying rush.
The symbolism of being ass-fucked by the fat glass syringe somehow makes the
experience doubly poignant for the gasping slave girl. Her
violated and drug-injected sphincters flutter adoringly around the glassy
barrel of the syringe as her mistress slowly empties the last few ccs way up
high in her ass. So deep… so deep…
At this
point, the lovely blonde has been transformed into a pretty much completely
docile zombie, without a thought in her head, floating somewhere up above cloud
nine. “There now… don’t you feel better?” Fiona asks her as she finally and
carefully withdraws the three inch needle from its spot deep inside Alison’s
quivering ass channel and sets the syringe down on the familiar silver tray.
“Yess, Mistresss…” the zoned-out slave girl replies, not sure if she even understands
the question. A growing blossoming
thrill of hot gushy cunty excitement fills her belly and rushes up and down her
spine, making her gasp in delight and wonder as her pierced clit throbs
sympathetically. Fiona’s voice seems to come from a million miles away, echoing
hollowly in her ears through the dizzying rush that sweeps her away, totally
obliterating her mind. It doesn’t matter. She will not be required to think too
much.
Fiona
leaves her there, allowing her to turn back over onto her back and relax for a
few minutes as her mistress puts away her drug paraphernalia. By the time the
stacked little brunette has come back to unfasten Alison’s hands and get her
up, her head has cleared a little, although she is still flushed with arousal
and kind of spaced-out. Disappointed that she has to come back to earth, the
blonde pouts as she is released from her bondage to the four-poster bed but her
hands remain cuffed in front of her as she is once more leashed and led rather
unsteadily towards the kitchen. Fiona sits her down at a stool in the breakfast
nook and once more turns her attention to warming up some of the nutrient gruel
that has become the staple item in Alison’s diet. Alison stares at the bowl of
gloop in front of her without interest but accepts a cup of coffee with
gratitude. She sips it slowly, her whole body still thrumming with the effects
of the injections she has absorbed, squirming her hot wet cunt restlessly on the
vinyl stool beneath her. Fiona observes this with some amusement… “Take it
easy, there, hot pants… you’ll get all the action you can handle before too
long. Meanwhile you’d better eat that…” Fiona commands, pointing to the bowl of
oatmeal-like stuff that is cooling on the counter before her. “Don’t make me
have to feed it to you…”
Remembering
the humiliating experience of being force-fed from yesterday, the shapely young
blonde quickly starts shoveling the sweet-tasting but rather bland mush down,
emptying her bowl. The little rings on the ends of her super-long and polished
pinkie nails jingle faintly with the movements of her hands, making her
conscious once again of the penetrating presence of the rings in her cunt and
nipples. Its difficult to even hold a coffee cup or a
spoon with these bright pink decorative extensions on the ends of her fingers
and she feels a little clumsy… it will take some getting used to. “Your body
needs nourishment, too… not just drugs…” Fiona points out.
“We have to keep your strength up. You have a busy day ahead. There’s enough
calories and protein in that slop to keep you going until dinner time. Now
hurry up and finish your coffee… it’s time to get you cleaned up….”
Moments
later Fiona is leading her still dreamily compliant captive off to the bathroom
once more, stripping off the blonde’s corset as she fills the tub with bubble
bath. As usual, she bathes and shampoos Alison herself, keeping the naked young
woman cuffed and collared all the while. She carefully cleans the blonde’s
nipples and slit, rubbing a small amount of ointment into the punctures and
making sure that the inner skin is not adhering to the silver piercings that
glitter in her soft pink
flesh. The blonde’s shapely backside is still bruised and welted
from the previous night’s whipping, and even Fiona’s gentle soaping makes her
wince. A thorough douche and enema are next on the agenda, the sweet looking
blonde squirming in humiliation as this degrading ritual is repeated yet again.
Finally, when she is thoroughly cleaned both inside and out, her black-suited
mistress leads her by the leash back to the bed room to get her dressed and
made up for the day’s activities. Fiona stops the squeaky-clean blonde in the
doorframe, chaining her cuffed hands to the ring high up above her head and
hoisting her up, stretching her tight for lacing. The girl hangs limply from
her wrists, her toes barely grazing the floor as Fiona rummages through the
dresser and closet, which have been totally restocked with a bewildering
assortment of bizarre and provocative outfits, lingerie and accessories. Black
and hot pink will be the colors of the day, the brunette announces… Something
to match the new tattoo Spider is going to mark her with.
Alison
shudders inwardly, thinking of the creepy-looking greasy biker once more laying
his hands upon her, remembering the design of crossed whips that she saw last
night adorning the slave/hostess Andrea’s shaved white mound directly above her
multiply-ringed cunt. She knows that she too will soon be stamped indelibly as
a whore with this mark of slavery and sexual submission. The thought both
excites and distresses her. She knows it is going to hurt and that her mistress
is enjoying reminding
her of it… keeping her scared and giving her something to worry about. Alison
hangs there naked and barefoot, a towel wrapped around her wet hair, her arms
tightly stretched above her head as she waits patiently for her mistress to lay
out her clothing, if you could call it that, and dress her. In spite of the
coil of fear that flutters in her belly, she still feels weak and dreamy, the
rings in her drugged tits and cunt pulsating and aching pleasurably within her,
making her perky pierced nipples and skewered clit involuntarily harden and
rise as if begging for attention, a gushy creamy feeling suffusing her feminine
interior where her Mistress’ needles have done their work inside her. A sudden
hot rush runs through her, making her momentarily weak in the knees, her
girlish cunt getting hot and moist as she unconsciously readies herself for
another day of sexual servitude.
Meanwhile,
Fiona has selected a bizarre assembly of items for Alison to wear, laying it
all out on the bed for the girl to see. It’s all rubber today… or should we say
latex… starting with a heavy-duty black latex corset-slip, severely
wasp-waisted and heavily boned with steel rods inside and lacing up the back.
The low-cut bra cups are trimmed in shocking pink lace, as is the bottom edge
which is cut high enough so as not to impede Spider in his work, and a
voluminous short pink ruffled skirt more or less like a tutu is attached at the
waist. Eight thin garter straps hang down underneath. Hot pink plug-panties of
thin stretchy translucent rubber lie next to the corset on the bed. They are
fitted to be extremely tight and are equipped with two dildos of smooth and
flexible pink latex, easily an inch and a half thick and nine inches long,
already lubed for insertion. A small clip is mounted on the inside of the
crotch of the panties to interlock with the ring embedded in Alison’s clit.
This will serve both to help hold the garment in place and to provide some
additional stimulation, as if any were needed. Next to these items on the white
satin bedspread are extra-long bright pink stockings of the same material as
the panties, stretchy and clinging, and calf-high black latex boots with narrow
pointy toes, six inch stiletto heels and laces all the way up the front. A
detachable inch-wide cruppering strap of the same heavy black rubber is
available to be fastened over the panties and cinched up to buckles at the front
and back of the corset. Black latex fingerless gloves, shoulder-length, with a
frill of pink lace at the top complete the ensemble, which fairly screams out
FUCK ME in flaming letters a foot high. Alison might as well carry a sign that
says “Come and get it, boys…”
Fiona
strolls over to her with an atomizer in hand, spraying the helplessly handing
blonde liberally with the cunty-scented perfume, kicking her ankles apart to
squirt the stuff up into her crotch and ass, going over her body two, three
times until her eyes are practically watering with the reek of it. It burns and
stings as it dries on her sensitive shaved sex flesh, making the enslaved young
woman squirm uncomfortably. `The whole room now smells of fresh flowers and hot
pussy. Meanwhile the brunette has opened a can of talc and briskly starts
spreading a thin layer of the stuff all over Alison’s body from the neck down.
The sensation is soothing and not unpleasant and makes her feel smooth and
slippery all over. The cuffed blonde sighs and closes her eyes contentedly as
her body is powdered, squirming in arousal and twisting her hands around in her
cuffs pinned there up over her head as her mistress rubs the slippery powder
over her tits, over her sweet little shaved mound and up in the crack of her
shapely ass, working her way down to the girls small tapering feet. “The powder will help keep the latex from
sticking to your skin… otherwise I don’t know if I could get you into this
stuff, it’s so tight…” Fiona explains.
Of course
the panties have to come first. Fiona approaches her with this fetishistic
garment in hand, bending over to get the blonde to step her feet through the
leg holes. She draws them up over the blonde’s legs with the crotch part
uppermost until they are stretched around the tops of her thighs, the twin
dildos flopping around in the air. Alison whines and whimpers. In spite of the
fact that she is still quite stimulated, she doesn’t want to have to wear this
humiliating contraption. As Fiona brings the first of the rubbery plugs up to
her hairless slit she attempts to squirm away, earning a sharp warning glance
from her mistress. Would she prefer it if Fiona called one or
two of Slate’s goon squad to help? They are still on call 24/7. Alison
sighs in resignation and allows the pink rubbery thing to slip inside her hot
slippery twat, shifting her hips slightly to make room inside herself for this
phallic intruder. Her eyes widen and her nostrils flare as her clit is fastened
to the little clip inside the crotch, holding things firmly in place. With this
constant slight tugging and stretching on her clit there will be no peace for
her.
Her
mistress steps around behind her to insert the other plug up her tight pink
rectum. In spite of the fact that she is now doing her best to cooperate she is
involuntarily tense and contracted. Fiona is obliged to force it in there. No
problem. She enjoys it when they resist a little. Alison grunts and whinnies,
her forehead wrinkling in concentration. “That’s it, honey…” Fiona advises her…
“Push back against it… it will go in easier that way…” The helpless blonde does
as she has been told, relaxing her rounded buttocks and pushing down with her
bowels as best she can to admit the nine-inch rubber dingus until it is buried
to the hilt in her drugged out and responsively spasming ass channel. In spite of her mental reservations, she is
unable to keep from moaning as her pussy and asshole start working on the twin
plugs impaling her, squeezing and pulsing around them involuntarily. This was
what she dreaded. With these things in her she will not be able to control
herself. “Oh… you changed your mind now, huh?” her mistress teases her as she
pulls the thin, stretchy and extremely tight pink rubber panties up over the
girl’s hips, tugging the double-thick elastic waistband up as high as she can
get it around the girl’s waist and releasing it with a snap. The clinging pink
rubber is now stretched quite tightly over the blonde’s butt and lower belly,
forcing the two dildos deeper into her sex holes and making Alison gasp.
“These
are the only kind of panties you’ll be allowed to wear from now on…” Fiona
instructs her… “You’d better get used to them…” The thin translucent rubber
clings to her like a second skin, revealing every nook and cranny of her body
underneath, and it certainly feels strange against the nakedly hairless and powdered flesh of
her cunt and ass. Her ringed clit is stretched upwards and held there throbbing
at attention by the little clip inside the high-cut rubber briefs, the narrow band
of the crotch pulled up tightly into her doubly-plugged crack. “Yes, Mistress…”
the bound and drugged babe mumbles in nervous embarrassment as a knot of
anxious desire starts coiling in her belly, sending a hot jolt of sexual
electricity from her imprisoned clit up to her brain and back down again. “…
But it’s so… overwhelming… I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep from coming if
you keep me all stuffed up like this…”
“You do
and you’ll be punished…” Fiona warns her. “You know you’re not allowed to come
without permission.” In fact, knowing that she will be punished for it will
only make it more difficult for the girl to control herself and Fiona knows
this. It is amusing to shame the girl by making her come more or less against
her will. The brunette smirks to herself as she picks up the heavy black
corset-slip and wraps it around her captive’s slender torso, fastening the
hook-and-eye closures in the front. Unlike the panties, there’s no stretch at
all in this thick shiny black latex garment. “Now take a deep breath, I’m going
to start lacing you up…” the brunette commands. Obediently, Alison fills her
lungs with air, sucking in her stomach as her dark-haired keeper takes the
laces of the corset in hand and draws them tight… tighter… tighter… cinching in
the young blonde’s waistline relentlessly, compressing it in an iron grip.
“Ohhh… Oooohhhh… Please, Mistress, not so tight… Ohhh noooo…” the helpless
blonde begs breathlessly. The stiff steel stays of the waist-cincher
constricting her middle force her ribcage up to make her ringed and upthrust
breasts more prominent and cause her equine buttocks to jut out saucily from
beneath the frou-frou of the little skirt as her body is molded implacably into
the desired hourglass silhouette.
Fiona
works her way up and down the long line of close-set eyelets mounted in the
steel backbone of the extremely severe corset, making them meet from top to
bottom in an unbroken line, reducing the gasping blonde’s waist to a mere
sixteen inches, her body taking on an exaggerated wasplike configuration inside
the rigidly constricting carapace that threatens to squeeze the breath out of
her and holds her whole body from chest to hips as stiff as a board. Alison
pants shallowly, hyperventilating in an effort to draw enough oxygen into her
lungs. She feels faint and lightheaded, her pulse
ringing in her ears as her body slowly begins to adjust to its hard shell of
rubber and steel. Gradually the roar of blood in her head subsides, leaving her
limp and weak-kneed as she hangs there in the doorway passively awaiting
further developments.
So
overwhelmed is she by the sensation of being squeezed as if by a giant fist
that she barely notices as Fiona carefully rolls the bright pink rubber
stockings over her bright painted toes and up her legs, stretching them tight
as she goes rather like rolling a condom up over a hard dick, and fastens them
firmly to the eight the tops of the dangling slave girl’s thighs. Shaking some
more of the talcum powder into the insides of the pointy-toed and very
high-heeled black latex boots, which have been unlaced all the way down to the
ankle, she gets the tightly-corseted slave girl to step into them, pushing her
heels down into the rigidly steel-reinforced last to encase them firmly within.
It’s a tight squeeze, even for Alison’s slender and smallish feet, and her toes
are cramped together mercilessly by the sharply tapering points at the tips of
the boots. Once she’s got the shoe part of the boot on, Fiona goes to work on
the laces, pulling them as tight as a pair of ice skates all the way up the
girl’s shins, finally tying them at the back with a double knot. Alison’s feet
and ankles are now locked pretty much rigidly in place, all of her weight now
resting uneasily on the balls of her highly-arched feet, which are held en
pointe as it were by the unbending steel sole of the boot, forcing the girl to
stand on tip-toes. Alison shifts her weight uncomfortably from one leg to the
other but this just causes the plugs in her pussy and ass to jiggle around as she
hangs there helplessly. “Ohhh Mistress… I don’t know how I’m going to be able
to walk in these things…” she protests feebly. “Don’t worry, sweetie… we won’t
be running any marathons…” Fiona replies dismissively. “You’ll get used to it…”
Indeed she has little choice.
All that
remains is to fasten the black rubber crotch strap of the corset up into
Alison’s crack. Fiona fastens one end of the inch-wide belt to the buckle at
the back of the corset just above the little triangle where her ass cheeks
divide and lets it hang down there. Walking around to the front of her dangling
captive she reaches between her legs to pull the strap up into her
rubber-covered crotch and thread it through the buckle at the front of the
corset. Alison becomes alarmed when she finally realizes the purpose of this
instrument and starts babbling and moving her hips around in an effort to get
away from it but all that ends instantly when Fiona savagely jerks on the end
of the strap, forcing it hard up into the captive blonde’s pussy and asscrack
and spreading her robber-covered labia around it. She buckles it as tightly as
she is able. ‘OOOOOOHHHHH… AAAAAAAHHHHH…” The helpless blonde gasps as the twin
torpedoes are forced even harder into her clutching sex holes, the tight
cruppering strap exerting a relentless pressure on her upstanding little clit
where it is clipped to the rubber panties, making it twitch and jump with
mingled pain and arousal. “There now…” Fiona remarks with satisfaction… “How’s
that feel?”
“OHHH
GODDD…” The submissive former secretary moans, completely at a loss for words.
More than anything she feels totally dominated, totally controlled, and in
spite of being highly uncomfortable her sluttish little pussy is creaming and
squishing around the fat phallic intruders that fill her fore and aft. “I take
that to mean that you find this exciting…” Fiona comments sarcastically… don’t
you you little whore?” “Y…Yess, Mistressss…” the squirming and gasping sex
slave hesitantly admits. Her captor knows her too well… in fact she is on the
verge of coming already. ‘V…V…Very exciting…”
“You’re a
live one, all right…” Fiona remarks, picking up the black rubber
shoulder-length fingerless gloves, decorated with pink lace at the tops of the
arms and along the V shape at the back of the hand. She reaches up to unfasten
one of Alison’s delicate wrists from the cuffs that hold them high over her
head, unlocking it with a tiny key and leaving the other hand fastened to the
doorframe as she rolls the tight black rubber glove up over the submissive
blonde’s girlishly slender arm, keeping a firm hold on her captive at all
times. Not that she needs to… Alison is too far gone already to make any
struggle or protest as her mistress takes her now blackly-gloved hand and
replaces the cuff taken off her with a black one of identical design, snapping
the steel-reinforced and slightly padded shackle tightly around her captive’s
wrist over the glove with an audible click as the ratchet locks. The
dark-haired bitch then refastens that hand to the doorframe and repeats this
process on her other arm, and exchanges the white pearl choker collar around
the blonde’s neck for a similar one with
black obsidian beads and a black cameo with the same design of crossed whips at
the center.
At last
Alison is completely dressed, although outfitted might be a better term,
needing only to get her make-up and hair done to be ready to assume her role
and entertain whatever guests may be arriving. As usual, Fiona releases the
lovely blonde’s hands from up over her head, refastening them behind her back
before sitting her down on the bench before the makeup table, clipping her
wrist cuffs to a ring in the frame of the bench behind her so she cannot get up
again. In the shape Alison is in all this control is not strictly necessary but
Slate has instructed her to see to it that the blonde is kept in bondage at all
times. In fact the tightly-laced blonde can barely move at all, walking
stiff-legged and teetering on the insanely high heels of her boots, forced to
sit up stiffly at attention by the constriction of the rigid corset-slip
encasing her body. Fiona walks over to her with the CO2-powered earring gun,
loading some small black crystal studs into the chamber.
“Hold
still, now, honey…” the brunette commands, taking one of Alison’s delicate
translucent ears between her fingers and lining up the piercing device
carefully. POW!… POW!… POW!… POW!… Soon four new studs have
been driven through the cartilage at the outer edge of the blonde’s upper ears,
bringing the total of piercings in each ear to nine, running up the earlobes
and arranged in a semi-circle around the circumference of the ear just inside
the fold. Fiona proceeds to fill these holes with a series of larger and larger
studs as she works her way down, changing over to larger hanging or dangling
earrings as she reaches the last three holes punctured in the blonde’s
earlobes. The bottom set is of silver, hung with many black crystal beads,
looking almost like a miniature chandelier as it dangles down to her shoulder,
heavy enough to drag her earlobe down slightly with it. The one next to it is
identical but smaller, perhaps three inches in length, and the one above it a
one inch chain set with similar beads. The earrings tinkle like doorchimes
every time Alison moves her head. Unlike her nipples and pussy, which had been
numbed by injections when they were pierced, the two new holes in each ear burn
and sting, bringing tears to her eyes that slowly roll down her cheek and which
she can’t wipe away because of her cuffed hands. That’s why Fiona did this
before applying her makeup. Alison shivers inwardly, remembering that she may
still be pierced again in other areas. Slate certainly seemed to be intrigued
by what had been done to Andrea, the hostess at the Caligula Club, and she
fears he has made similar plans for her…perhaps even today…
Momentarily
lost in these ruminations, she sits silently as Fiona deftly dabs her tears
with a tissue and starts applying her makeup. The brunette is going for a more
dramatic and less innocent effect this time to go with the bizarrely
provocative black and pink get-up her captive is wearing. Heavy eyeshadow
fading from blue-grey to black, black eyeliner and mascara, her cheekbones
sharply delineated and a darker shade of glossy magenta lipstick exaggerate the
pouting fullness of her lips against a starkly white foundation that gives her
a sort of haunted and whorishly sensual look… a far cry from the sweet and
innocent victim of yesterday. She looks like a bad girl for sure… a bad girl
who can’t wait to be punished in her outlandishly kinky rubber outfit. No doubt
this is just what Fiona had in mind, making it glaringly obvious that she’s a
slave to the whip… to the needle…
Now that
Alison’s earrings and makeup are done, her black-clad mistress goes to work on
her hair, unwrapping the towel/turban from around her
head and combing out her slightly wavy ash-blonde tresses. The brunette decides
to put her hair up for a change today, combing it back from her face and
gathering it tightly in a ponytail at the back of her head with a thick black
rubber band which she wraps around there four or five times to hold it
securely. The immobilized blonde feels the skin of her forehead and temples
being drawn back tightly by the pull on her scalp. Once this is done, Fiona
patiently weaves her captive’s silky locks into a single long braid, fixing
another rubber band to the end to keep it from unraveling. She then twists the
whole thing around onto the back of her head in a French Knot,
fastening it in place with bobby pins. She then inserts a hair clip with a big
fluffy black crepe bow mounted on it through the knot and locks it into place.
Poor Alison feels as though even her hair is in bondage, so tightly is it
pulled back. Exactly the effect her mistress intended, no doubt…
For all
of that, she does look exquisite and fabulously exotic… a vision to harden the
cock of any male who isn’t certified brain-dead. Once again, Alison is struck
dumb with her own reflection, marveling at the image that confronts her in the
mirror. She can hardly recognize herself. The young woman in the mirror seems
like a creature from another world, an apparition from some sadist’s wet dream.
A shock of heat and shame runs through her as she realizes that yes that’s really
her sitting there, transformed into this wickedly provocative and
sensual-looking being. Her creamy hairless pussy and asshole
milk eagerly on the thick rubbery intruders that fill her hot squirmy insides,
her pierced and clipped clit throbbing with drugged-out and anxious desire
against the tight black rubber strap that runs up between her legs. Her
lips part to reveal two pearly white teeth as she breathes softly through her
open mouth, aching with vulnerability. She realizes that even the gentle and imploring
expression on her face cannot help but inspire fresh acts of sadistic lust. She
looks like she’s ready for action and in truth she is… all she needs now is a
man to fuck her, she thinks to herself in shameful excitement. A big strong
man… a demanding man… a man like Slate…
“You
certainly do look tempting…” Fiona remarks, breaking into the dolled-up
blonde’s train of thought… “Even if I do say so myself.
Spider is going to cream in his jeans when he sees you. Speaking of which, he
should be here any moment now… it’s almost
The
brunette unclips her shackled wrists from the ring at the back of the vanity
bench, leaving them fastened behind her, and forces the blonde to stand up,
holding her firmly by the upper arm to keep her from losing her balance.
Keeping a
firm hold on the captive receptionist, she guides her out into the other room
as the tightly-laced young woman teeters unsteadily on her six-inch heels, the
vibrators buzzing away merrily inside her. She is terrified of falling with her
hands tied behind her back like this. The twin plugs inside her wiggle and
jiggle around with every step and her chafed little clit rubs and pulls against
the cruppering strap that bisects her.
Halfway across the floor she freezes, overcome by a shuddering orgasm as
her overstimulated cunt and asshole seize around the
impaling dildos and her belly heaves. Fiona looks on with annoyance, then
amusement. She knew this was coming… in fact she made it happen. Flicking off the switch that keeps the dildos
buzzing, she takes the still-trembling blonde’s chin in her hand, forcing her
to look into her eyes. “Didn’t I tell you not to come without permission?” she
demands… “Just for that you will be chained to the whipping post while we wait.
Perhaps additional punishments will be in order…“ It matters little to Alison…
she is long past having any control over her body and they both know it. It’s all
just a kind of twisted game…
Fiona
leads the unsteady blonde across what in more innocent times was the living
room to the whipping post at the far end of the room, turning on the spotlight
overhead to bathe the area in brightness. “You can just hang out here for a
while…” the sultry-looking brunette announces offhandedly, fastening Alison by
the ring at the back of her collar to a short chain dangling from a hook
overhead on the pillar. “We’ll just call you Exhibit A…” The severely-corseted
and plugged up blonde is forced to stand there motionless at attention, her
hands still tied behind her and at some risk of choking herself if she even
tries to move. She tries to lean back against the post and take some of the
weight off her painfully-constricted toes. “No, No… this will never do… You
must stand up straight…” Fiona exclaims. “Perhaps a little elbow-binding is in
order… It’s simply amazing what it can do for a girl’s posture…”
Alison
hangs there helplessly, her stomach tightening in dread as Fiona walks back
into the bedroom and rummages around for a minute. She returns in a minute with
a pair of wide black leather cuffs in her hand. Turning the rubber-gloved
blonde around so that she is facing the black pillar, she buckles one of the
cuffs tightly around each of her elbows over the gloves. She then threads a
black leather cord through the D rings mounted opposite the buckles on the
cuffs, turning them inward so that they face each other and looping it through
a couple of times. Relentlessly, she pulls on the ends of the cord, forcing
Alison’s elbows together behind her back until the two rings meet and then
tying it off securely with a double knot that will not slip. The lovely sex
slave’s shoulders are pulled down and back severely, her shoulder blades
scrunched together by the inward pressure of her bound elbows.
“OHHH,
MISTRESS… PLEASE… NOT SO TIGHT…” the defenseless blonde pleads forlornly,
already quite uncomfortable after only a few seconds. Fiona turns her back
around. “Shut up, Alison…” her mistress commands, putting a finger to her
roommate’s lips to silence her. “You’re going to stay like this until Spider is
done piercing your tits… One more word from you and I’ll take my quirt to them
first. Would you like that?” Fiona asks, reaching up with her hand to toy with
the rings already piercing the blonde’s tender pink nipples, pulling and
tugging on them just hard enough to make the slave girl gasp. “N… No, Mistress…
Please, Mistress… I’ll be good… I’ll be good…” the terrified young woman babbles
before lapsing into cowed silence. In fact, the binding of her elbows does
cause her lusciously rounded tits to thrust themselves forward with insouciant
boldness, their size and prominence exaggerated by the narrowness of her
backward and down-pulled shoulders. Alison twists and wiggles her arms and
hands helplessly, biting her lip in frustration, but there’s no escaping their
implacable grip. She is just going to have to stay like this until somebody
sets her free.
Far from setting her free, Fiona proceeds to
strap her tightly to the whipping post. After all she doesn’t want the girl to
lose her balance and accidentally strangle herself. By the time she is done,
wide belts hold her adorable captive tightly to the black pillar that dominates
that end of the room. Her ankles, her legs, her waist and shoulders are all
strapped tightly to the post and she can barely even twitch.
Fiona
walks back over to the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of coffee and sitting
herself down on the couch, smiling to herself as she looks over at the spotlit
girl across the room. It’s good for her to make Alison wait… build up a little
suspense. The minutes drag on, the hands of the wall clock slowly approaching
the vertical as the cuffed and plugged blonde is forced to stand there silently
at the post, growing rapidly more anxious and uncomfortable by the minute as
Fiona sits there watching her and nonchalantly flipping through a fashion
magazine and listening to the radio. It kind of reminds the blonde of sitting
in a dentist’s office and waiting to have your teeth drilled. Then Fiona turns
the vibrators back on….
THRILLING RAPE FANTASIES
THE ADVENTURES OF ALISON
VOLUME II
‘HAPPINESS IN SERVITUDE’
note…
this story is a continuation of “Thrilling Rape Fantasies I” which implies that
it would probably be better to read that one first, although readers familiar
with the genre will have no trouble picking it up from here...
CHAPTER ONE
It is
late into the wee hours of a rainy muggy August night as the long black limo
pulls up to the gleaming chrome and glass façade of the uptown highrise
apartment building where Alison is kept. Tony the hulking bodyguard-chauffeur
gets out of the driver’s seat and walks around the car to open the door for his
passengers. As he helps Fiona out of the car the beautiful young blonde stirs
fitfully, awakening from her doze where she reclines in the back of the limo
with her head resting on her Master’s shoulder.
“We’re
home…” Slate announces softly in the exhausted slave-girl’s ear, gently pushing
her head off his dark-suited shoulder and gathering himself to rise. He takes
her by the arm as she struggles to sit herself up with her hands still cuffed
behind her back beneath the long white satin cape that covers her half-naked
body. Underneath the cape all she is wearing are her severely-restrictive white
corset, her nylons and heels and of course the rings which pierce her bright
pink nipples and her soft shaved cunt. She moans softly, the burning pain of
her recently-whipped and welted buttocks flaring hotly as she returns to
consciousness. Tony the chauffeur reaches in from outside to help her get out of the car.
Between the two men, they assist the caped and bound blonde across the sidewalk
toward the gleaming chrome and glass façade of the highrise office tower and
apartment building where Alison has been a virtual captive in her own apartment
for the last week as her training in sexual servitude has progressed. She can’t
really think of it as her home anymore… not after everything that has happened
there. Old Fred the night doorman rouses himself to open the door for them.
“Late night, huh, folks?…” Slate favors him with a vague smile as their
footsteps echo across the empty lobby and into the waiting private elevator,
which only runs up to the penthouse level. If the old geezer sees anything
unusual in the enslaved young woman’s condition, the fact that his checks are
drawn on Slate’s building management company encourages him to keep his mouth
shut. Besides which he knows that Slate is not someone you would want to annoy.
The four
of them ride up in the elevator quietly, the two men supporting the weakened
and wavering slave girl between them as they step out on the top floor and
escort Fiona and Alison back to their apartment. Fiona opens the door with one
of those magnetic key cards which she had been given by Slate as Mistress of
the house but which only he possesses the code for. The door locks
electronically on both sides, preventing anyone from entering or leaving
without the passkey. So even if Alison were to somehow awaken in the dead of
night and somehow free herself from the chains holding her to her bed, there’s
no way she could get out of the apartment short of jumping out the window,
forty-five stories up. In fact, thoughts of escape are the last thing on
Alison’s mind right now as her three companions half-carry the semi-conscious
young woman directly into her frilly girlish bedroom, now decked out with all
kinds of bizarre bondage gear. The second that the two men release her and
Fiona takes the cape from around her shoulders, the cuffed and beaten blonde
collapses gratefully on the white satin-covered bed, sinking swiftly into a
black well of unconsciousness.
Her
mistress returns from the closet where she has gone to hang up Alison’s cape to
roll the girl over on her belly, loosening the laces of her corset a couple of
inches to let her rest more easily during the night. She doesn’t take it off
completely and even as the girl sleeps it will continue to mold Alison’s
already=slender form. After several months of this training regimen, the
blonde’s body will become so deformed
and atrophied by this relentless constriction that it will become impossible
for her to sit or stand without the corset’s support, especially as her waist
is reduced to twelve or fourteen inches. Of course, this just will serve to
make her that much more helpless…
While the
girl is lying there on her belly, Fiona takes the time to prepare one more
injection. Something to help her sleep… she doesn’t want Alison waking up two
hours from now from pain. She jabs the needle home in one of the passed-out sex
slave’s lacerated butt cheeks, giving her a good dose of sedative pain-killer
and then gently rubbing some ointment on the oozing welts that stripe the
girl’s still reddened backside. Unclipping the blonde’s wrist bracelets from
behind her back, she takes them off briefly to peel the long white gloves off
of Alison’s arms, then flips the girl over and refastens the girl’s cuffed
hands to her collar and attaches the collar to the headboard of the bed by an
eighteen-inch length of silver chain. Not that Alison is going anywhere, but
it’s good for her to wake up and find herself chained to the bed. Puts her in
the proper frame of mind for the rest of the day.
As Fiona reaches down to unfasten the seven
earrings that pierce each of Alison’s delicate translucent ears, Slate leans
over her to inspect the silver piercings in the knocked=out submissive’s
sweetly shaved slit one more time. He fingers them speculatively as the
brunette unlaces Alison’s high-heeled white boots and removes her come-stained
and laddered stockings, tossing them in the trash. “Nighty night, little
Alison… Now you’re all tucked in…” the
hard-faced older man remarks ironically. “I hope you enjoyed your coming-out
party.”
Slate and
Fiona leave the room, turning out the lights and returning to the living room,
where the stolid Tony has been patiently waiting. “Have her ready for me at six
tomorrow evening. Make sure she’s wearing something dramatic. I expect her to
entertain some people…” He instructs the brunette. “And don’t let that greasy tattoo artist wear
her out too much. He should be able to finish with his work by tomorrow,
anyway, at least for now.” Fiona mumbles her assent as Slate turns his back to
her, already making for the door with Tony close on his heels.
CHAPTER TWO
Alison
sleeps long and deeply, too exhausted to even dream. By the time she starts to
come to, the sun is already high in the sky and her bladder is bursting. The
little clock on the bedside table reads almost
In a
moment her kinky brunette keeper is standing there over her, already dressed in
a shiny black leotard and stretch pants, high-heeled boots on her feet and her
little quirt and beeper hanging from her belt. In her hand she holds Alison’s
white leash. “Good morning, little sex puppy…” she greets her blonde roommate
sarcastically. “Is it time to go walkies…?” “Please, Mistress…” the helpless
former receptionist croaks out through her dry mouth, squirming around on the
bed in her anxiety… “I gotta go…” Fiona reaches down to fasten the leash to the
ring attached to the bottom of the burning silver shaft piercing vertically
through the anxious slavegirl’s sore and
tender clit, unfastening Alison’s collar
from the chain connecting it to the headboard and releasing her wrist cuffs
from the ring at the front of the choker, still leaving them tightly clipped
together in front of her.
Painfully, the multiply-pierced young blonde rises form
her bed, stiff and sore all over, her recently-whipped buttocks still very
tender where the blackish stripes of her Master’s crop are starting to heal
over and the piercings in her flesh throbbing and burning abominably. She feels
like the inside of her rectum has been used for a punching bag. Besides that,
her nose is running and her eyes are red and watery, a nauseous feeling
building up in the pit of her stomach as the sick craving for more of Slate’s
special synthetic drug blend builds up in her body, jangling her nerve ends.
Apparently the stuff creates a powerful physical addiction… a great marketing tool
when the stuff is produced in sufficient quantities to hit the streets. Anybody
dealing this shit will be guaranteed a steady stream of repeat customers.
Seeing her captive wince as she gets up from the bed and the brunette leads her
to the bathroom by the leash attached to her cunt, Fiona reassures her. “Don’t
worry, cupcake… We’ll get you straightened out as soon as you get done doing
your business. I’ve got your breakfast all ready for you…” she says, pointing
to the silver tray already laid out on the bedside table with its array of
shining syringes and little vials. “Now hurry up… it’s getting late already.”
Clad in
nothing but her somewhat loosened white patent corset, the strung-out blonde
squats gratefully on the toilet, sighing in relief as the long stream of her
urine splashes into the bowl, her Mistress standing over her holding up the
leash connected to her ringed little clit so it doesn’t get wet. Alison reaches
for the toilet tissue to wipe herself with her cuffed hands, struggling awkwardly
as she gingerly brings the wad of paper up between her ringed inner labia. She
can feel the implacable coldness of the silver circlets against her fingers.
This is the first time since she has been pierced that she has been able to
touch them, and it sends a shiver down her spine to be reminded of their
penetrating presence, reawakening feelings of fearful submission and childlike
dependence.
“Come
along, Alison…” Fiona demands, tugging slightly on the leash, drawing a little
squeak from her captive and sending a jolt of pain through the girl’s skewered
clit, which hardens and rises involuntarily in response… “ It’s time for your
morning eye-opener.” Quickly, the enslaved young miss rises from the commode,
flushing it and following docily behind as her mistress leads her by the leash
back into the bedroom for her injections. Where will she get it this time? In
the tits? In her pussy? Up the ass? The cute blonde shudders in apprehension,
but still looks forward to the relief and soothing sensual rush that she knows
the needles will bring. Whatever has been planned for her is going to happen
anyway… at least the drugs will help her to bear it, perhaps even find pleasure
in it…
Fiona
leads Alison back to her frilly four-poster bed, ordering the blonde to lie
down on her back and unclipping the leash from the ring at the top of her
girlish shaved slit. “Are you gonna hold still for this or do I have to
restrain you?” the brunette asks as she reaches over to take up the first of
the syringes she has filled. Alison lies there squirming in mounting anxiety as
she eyes the gleaming hypodermic… “You… You better tie me, Mistress…” the
Innocent-faced young woman admits, voluntarily holding her hands up over her
head for Fiona to fasten them to the ring in the headboard. “It’s just easier
that way, if I’m, you know, helpless… I’m not sure if I could control myself,
otherwise.” Fiona smirks to herself, pleased with her little trainee’s fawning
and submissive cooperation. So she needs to be tied and she knows it. That’s
cute… real cute. Should make a poignant moment on the video.
Putting
down the syringe for the moment, the brunette reaches over into the chest of
bondage gear for some black leather ankle cuffs, buckling them tightly around
Alison’s slender bare legs. She fastens the girl’s crossed wrists to the center
of the headboard, pulling her body down on the bed so that they are stretched
tightly above her. Then she takes first one ankle and then the other, bending
the breathless blonde’s knees back on either side and opening her legs to
fasten the girl’s ankles by chains to
the posts at the upper corners of the bed, pulling her roommate’s hairless and
ringed crotch open wide and forcing her weight back onto the small of her back
so that her hips are raised as if for fucking. Once more, Alison finds herself
tied and helpless, flat on her back with her pussy and asshole exposed,
awaiting the probe of her Mistress’ penetrating needles. She bites her lip and
closes her eyes, whimpering slightly, knowing what’s coming.
CHAPTER TWO
Alison’s
hands pull at the cuffs that fasten them up there over her head, suddenly
excited by her helplessness. She looks down over her own pale and hairless
body, squirming slightly in anxiety, gasping as Fiona snaps on a pair of rubber
gloves reaches down to separate her suddenly moistening inner labia, pulling
them gently apart by the little rings that pierce them, opening her up down
there… “You know what I’m going to do with this, don’t you, sweetie…” her
mistress enquires meanly, a sinister glitter in her eyes as she holds the first
syringe with its two-inch needle up so the bound blonde can see it clearly.
“Y…Yes,
Mistress…” the blonde submissive whispers, her eyes wide with fear and a strange
excitement… its scary to have to submit to these injections, but it feels soooo
good afterwards, especially in her hot little cunt and ass… “You’re going to
give it to me right there… there in my pussy or maybe you know in the back…”
“Good guess, cutie…” Fiona confirms as she brings the gleaming chrome lance up
beneath the hood of her roommate’s clit,
lightly stabbing at the tender and rapidly hardening little bud of flesh with
the razor-sharp point of the thing as she pulls up on the ring attached to the
bottom of the blonde’s vertical hood piercing with her other hand, keeping her
captive panting in suspense…
“UNNGGGHHH!!!”
Alison cries out shrilly as her catsuited keeper deftly drives an inch of the
chrome-moly needle up into her clitoral shaft, up in and behind the silver bar that pierces her. The
helpless blonde grits her teeth as tears form at the corners of her eyes with
the sudden stinging penetration of her most delicate and sensitive area. She
feels the cooling rush as the solution
starts to flow from the tip of the needle, a slight pressure building
inside her flesh Fiona squeezes a few ccs of the powerful solution within her,
a dreamy warmth spreading in her belly and starting to creep up her spine…
After a few moments it no longer hurts, the piercing pain of the needle fading
to a sensation of fullness. Her now drugged membranes cling to the shaft of the
gleaming hypo as it begins to dug deeper, deeper, a quarter of an inch at a
time. Alison moans and thrashes her head around as it seeks out new and still
sensitive spots within her, filling her feminine nerve center with paralyzingly
powerful liquid ecstasy. Alison oohs and ahhs as her whole lower belly begins
to tingle and pulse with a growing heat that seems to radiate from the point where
the nut of the needle now presses firmly against her pierced clit. The whole
two inches of needle is now buried inside her hot wet cunt, her rings no longer
hurting her but rather throbbing pleasurably within her narcotized flesh.
“Yeah…
you’re digging it now, aren’t you, Alison, you sick little needle freak…?”
Fiona taunts her sadistically. “You like to feel that hypo in your hot little
twat, don’t you…?” “Y…Yes, Mistress…” the increasingly stoned-out blonde admits
dreamily, her head swimming as she floats away on a tide of narcotic bliss… “I…
I do… I can’t help it. It just makes me want to come and come… makes me want a
great big dick to fill me up… fill me up…”
“I know
what you mean…” comments Fiona, finally pulling the now empty hypodermic away
from her captive’s soft shaved slit. “Keep that thought in mind while I turn
you over… this is going to have to go up your ass…” she says menacingly,
referring to the second 10cc syringe with its glittering three-inch needle.
Alison can see it clearly out of the corner of her eye, lying there on the
silver tray on her bedside table beneath the frilly shaded lamp. The brunette turns her over on the bed and
prods the now spaced-out submissive into position with her ass up and her head
down as if waiting to be mounted. “B…But Mistress… it’s so loooong…” the
corseted blonde protests in a babyish little voice, secretly excited and yet
terrified at the thought, knowing that in any case she is going to have to take
its steely length, right now, way up inside her hot slippery bowels, which are
already spasmodically twitching in helpless and delicious anticipation. In
truth, Alison is beginning to find these deeply probing anal injections as
exciting as a good ass fucking. The terror which turns her limbs to jelly just seems
to heighten her arousal until she is quivering like a bowstring. “P… Please, Mistress… don’t make it hurt tooo
much,..,” she implores feebly, feeling
totally vulnerable and exposed with her well-fucked and still slightly swollen
rectum up in the air behind her and her anxiously twisting hands still cuffed
to the headboard. Fiona works a dollop of clear lube into the blonde’s
quivering rear entrance, eliciting a sharp squeak of surprise from the trussed
up slave girl as the rubber gloved fingers penetrate and open her…
“How much
is too much, darling?” Fiona asks her rhetorically as she picks up the shining
glass and steel instrument and bends over the defenseless blonde’s luridly
upthrust tush. Alison buries her head in the pillow, biting it between her
teeth as she feels the scrape of the needle at her tender anal entrance, her
whole body trembling and faint with fear. Her inner bowels are fluttering like
mad, forcing out a bubble of gas with a fruity farting sound. “I’ll overlook
that little outburst… I’m sure it was purely involuntary…” the brunette
announces matter-of-factly.
“Ohhh
Godddd…” Alison moans as she feels the first inch of cold steel penetrate her,
piercing easily through the delicate pink membranes of her rectum into the soft
flesh inside. Instantly the blonde feels a glowing gushy feeling starting to
spread up inside her ass as Fiona starts to work the needle around inside her,
emptying a few ccs right there at the entrance to her hot ass channel and
easing the stabbing pain of the needle until it is a dull pleasant throb.
“Ohhhhhh… OOOOOHHHH…” the sweet little slave slut moans as her mistress digs
deeper, reaching down into her bowels to spread more and more tingling liquid
warmth up inside her adorable tush. It hurts when the needle penetrates into
new and untouched territory, but it feels sooo good when the drugs flow into
her there, so high up inside her ass… Steadily, bit by bit the dark haired
dominatrix works more and more of the fat hypodermic up into Alison’s
spasmodically fluttering asshole.
Alison’s
whole being is concentrated right there at the surgically sharp point of the
needle as another couple of ccs of the
soothing and wickedly exciting solution flow into the depths of her
seethingly receptive anal interior, all other thoughts or feelings driven
completely from her mind. She moans and babbles incoherently, her eyes closed
and her mouth hanging open as a puddle of drool spreads on the pillow beneath
her face. By the time Fiona is done, the slick glass body of the syringe is
buried to the hilt in Alison’s hot ass hole and the three inch needle is deep
up in her bowels somewhere. This deep inside, the bloodstream carries the drugs
almost directly to the brain, hitting her in a dizzying rush. The symbolism of
being ass-fucked by the fat glass syringe somehow makes the experience doubly
poignant for the gasping slave girl. Her violated and drug-injected sphincters
flutter adoringly around the glassy barrel of the syringe as her mistress
slowly empties the last few ccs way up high in her ass. So deep… so deep…
At this
point, the lovely blonde has been transformed into a pretty much completely
docile zombie, without a thought in her head, floating somewhere up above cloud
nine. “There now… don’t you feel better?” Fiona asks her as she finally and
carefully withdraws the three inch needle from its spot deep inside Alison’s
quivering ass channel and sets the syringe down on the familiar silver tray.
“Yess, Mistresss…” the zoned-out slave girl replies, not sure if she even understands
the question. A growing blossoming
thrill of hot gushy cunty excitement fills her belly and rushes up and down her
spine, making her gasp in delight and wonder as her pierced clit throbs
sympathetically. Fiona’s voice seems to come from a million miles away, echoing
hollowly in her ears through the dizzying rush that sweeps her away, totally
obliterating her mind. It doesn’t matter. She will not be required to think too
much.
Fiona
leaves her there, allowing her to turn back over onto her back and relax for a
few minutes as her mistress puts away her drug paraphernalia. By the time the
stacked little brunette has come back to unfasten Alison’s hands and get her
up, her head has cleared a little, although she is still flushed with arousal
and kind of spaced-out. Disappointed that she has to come back to earth, the
blonde pouts as she is released from her bondage to the four-poster bed but her
hands remain cuffed in front of her as she is once more leashed and led rather
unsteadily towards the kitchen. Fiona sits her down at a stool in the breakfast
nook and once more turns her attention to warming up some of the nutrient gruel
that has become the staple item in Alison’s diet. Alison stares at the bowl of
gloop in front of her without interest but accepts a cup of coffee with
gratitude. She sips it slowly, her whole body still thrumming with the effects
of the injections she has absorbed, squirming her hot wet cunt restlessly on the vinyl stool beneath her. Fiona
observes this with some amusement… “Take it easy, there, hot pants… you’ll get
all the action you can handle before too long. Meanwhile you’d better eat
that…” Fiona commands, pointing to the bowl of oatmeal-like stuff that is
cooling on the counter before her. “Don’t make me have to feed it to you…”
Remembering
the humiliating experience of being force-fed from yesterday, the shapely young
blonde quickly starts shoveling the sweet-tasting but rather bland mush down,
emptying her bowl. The little rings on the ends of her super-long and polished
pinkie nails jingle faintly with the movements of her hands, making her
conscious once again of the penetrating presence of the rings in her cunt and
nipples. Its difficult to even hold a coffee cup or a spoon with these bright
pink decorative extensions on the ends of her fingers and she feels a little
clumsy… it will take some getting used to. “Your body needs nourishment, too…
not just drugs…” Fiona points out.
“We have to keep your strength up. You have a busy day ahead. There’s enough
calories and protein in that slop to keep you going until dinner time. Now
hurry up and finish your coffee… it’s time to get you cleaned up….”
Moments
later Fiona is leading her still dreamily compliant captive off to the bathroom
once more, stripping off the blonde’s corset as she fills the tub with bubble
bath. As usual, she bathes and shampoos Alison herself, keeping the naked young
woman cuffed and collared all the while. She carefully cleans the blonde’s
nipples and slit, rubbing a small amount of ointment into the punctures and
making sure that the inner skin is not adhering to the silver piercings that
glitter in her soft pink flesh. The
blonde’s shapely backside is still bruised and welted from the previous night’s
whipping, and even Fiona’s gentle soaping makes her wince. A thorough douche
and enema are next on the agenda, the sweet looking blonde squirming in
humiliation as this degrading ritual is repeated yet again. Finally, when she
is thoroughly cleaned both inside and out, her black-suited mistress leads her
by the leash back to the bed room to get her dressed and made up for the day’s
activities. Fiona stops the squeaky-clean blonde in the doorframe, chaining her cuffed hands
to the ring high up above her head and hoisting her up, stretching her tight
for lacing. The girl hangs limply from her wrists, her toes barely grazing the
floor as Fiona rummages through the dresser and closet, which have been totally
restocked with a bewildering assortment of bizarre and provocative outfits,
lingerie and accessories. Black and hot pink will be the colors of the day, the
brunette announces… Something to match the new tattoo Spider is going to mark
her with.
Alison
shudders inwardly, thinking of the creepy-looking greasy biker once more laying
his hands upon her, remembering the design of crossed whips that she saw last
night adorning the slave/hostess Andrea’s shaved white mound directly above her
multiply-ringed cunt. She knows that she too will soon be stamped indelibly as
a whore with this mark of slavery and sexual submission. The thought both
excites and distresses her. She knows it is going to hurt and that her mistress
is enjoying reminding her of it… keeping
her scared and giving her something to worry about. Alison hangs there naked
and barefoot, a towel wrapped around her wet hair, her arms tightly stretched
above her head as she waits patiently for her mistress to lay out her clothing,
if you could call it that, and dress her. In spite of the coil of fear that
flutters in her belly, she still feels weak and dreamy, the rings in her
drugged tits and cunt pulsating and aching pleasurably within her, making her
perky pierced nipples and skewered clit involuntarily harden and rise as if
begging for attention, a gushy creamy feeling suffusing her feminine interior
where her Mistress’ needles have done their work inside her. A sudden hot rush
runs through her, making her momentarily weak in the knees, her girlish cunt
getting hot and moist as she unconsciously readies herself for another day of
sexual servitude.
Meanwhile,
Fiona has selected a bizarre assembly of items for Alison to wear, laying it
all out on the bed for the girl to see. It’s all rubber today… or should we say
latex… starting with a heavy-duty black latex corset-slip, severely
wasp-waisted and heavily boned with steel rods inside and lacing up the back.
The low-cut bra cups are trimmed in shocking pink lace, as is the bottom edge
which is cut high enough so as not to impede Spider in his work, and a
voluminous short pink ruffled skirt more or less like a tutu is attached at the
waist. Eight thin garter straps hang down underneath. Hot pink plug-panties of
thin stretchy translucent rubber lie next to the corset on the bed. They are
fitted to be extremely tight and are equipped with two dildos of smooth and
flexible pink latex, easily an inch and a half thick and nine inches long,
already lubed for insertion. A small clip is mounted on the inside of the
crotch of the panties to interlock with the ring embedded in Alison’s clit.
This will serve both to help hold the garment in place and to provide some
additional stimulation, as if any were needed. Next to these items on the white
satin bedspread are extra-long bright pink stockings of the same material as
the panties, stretchy and clinging, and calf-high black latex boots with narrow
pointy toes, six inch stiletto heels and laces all the way up the front. A
detachable inch-wide cruppering strap of the same heavy black rubber is
available to be fastened over the panties and cinched up to buckles at the front
and back of the corset. Black latex fingerless gloves, shoulder-length, with a
frill of pink lace at the top complete the ensemble, which fairly screams out
FUCK ME in flaming letters a foot high. Alison might as well carry a sign that
says “Come and get it, boys…”
Fiona
strolls over to her with an atomizer in hand, spraying the helplessly handing
blonde liberally with the cunty-scented perfume, kicking her ankles apart to
squirt the stuff up into her crotch and ass, going over her body two, three
times until her eyes are practically watering with the reek of it. It burns and
stings as it dries on her sensitive shaved sex flesh, making the enslaved young
woman squirm uncomfortably. `The whole room now smells of fresh flowers and hot
pussy. Meanwhile the brunette has opened a can of talc and briskly starts
spreading a thin layer of the stuff all over Alison’s body from the neck down.
The sensation is soothing and not unpleasant and makes her feel smooth and
slippery all over. The cuffed blonde sighs and closes her eyes contentedly as
her body is powdered, squirming in arousal and twisting her hands around in her
cuffs pinned there up over her head as her mistress rubs the slippery powder
over her tits, over her sweet little shaved mound and up in the crack of her
shapely ass, working her way down to the girls small tapering feet. “The powder will help keep the latex from
sticking to your skin… otherwise I don’t know if I could get you into this
stuff, it’s so tight…” Fiona explains.
Of course
the panties have to come first. Fiona approaches her with this fetishistic
garment in hand, bending over to get the blonde to step her feet through the
leg holes. She draws them up over the blonde’s legs with the crotch part
uppermost until they are stretched around the tops of her thighs, the twin
dildos flopping around in the air. Alison whines and whimpers. In spite of the
fact that she is still quite stimulated, she doesn’t want to have to wear this
humiliating contraption. As Fiona brings the first of the rubbery plugs up to
her hairless slit she attempts to squirm away, earning a sharp warning glance
from her mistress. Would she prefer it if Fiona called one or two of Slate’s
goon squad to help? They are still on call 24/7. Alison sighs in resignation
and allows the pink rubbery thing to slip inside her hot slippery twat,
shifting her hips slightly to make room inside herself for this phallic
intruder. Her eyes widen and her nostrils flare as her clit is fastened to the
little clip inside the crotch, holding things firmly in place. With this
constant slight tugging and stretching on her clit there will be no peace for
her.
Her
mistress steps around behind her to insert the other plug up her tight pink
rectum. In spite of the fact that she is now doing her best to cooperate she is
involuntarily tense and contracted. Fiona is obliged to force it in there. No
problem. She enjoys it when they resist a little. Alison grunts and whinnies,
her forehead wrinkling in concentration. “That’s it, honey…” Fiona advises her…
“Push back against it… it will go in easier that way…” The helpless blonde does
as she has been told, relaxing her rounded buttocks and pushing down with her
bowels as best she can to admit the nine-inch rubber dingus until it is buried
to the hilt in her drugged out and responsively spasming ass channel. In spite of her mental reservations, she is
unable to keep from moaning as her pussy and asshole start working on the twin
plugs impaling her, squeezing and pulsing around them involuntarily. This was
what she dreaded. With these things in her she will not be able to control
herself. “Oh… you changed your mind now, huh?” her mistress teases her as she
pulls the thin, stretchy and extremely tight pink rubber panties up over the
girl’s hips, tugging the double-thick elastic waistband up as high as she can
get it around the girl’s waist and releasing it with a snap. The clinging pink
rubber is now stretched quite tightly over the blonde’s butt and lower belly,
forcing the two dildos deeper into her sex holes and making Alison gasp.
“These
are the only kind of panties you’ll be allowed to wear from now on…” Fiona
instructs her… “You’d better get used to them…” The thin translucent rubber
clings to her like a second skin, revealing every nook and cranny of her body
underneath, and it certainly feels strange against the nakedly hairless
and powdered flesh of her cunt and ass.
Her ringed clit is stretched upwards and held there throbbing at attention by
the little clip inside the high-cut rubber briefs, the narrow band of the
crotch pulled up tightly into her doubly-plugged crack. “Yes, Mistress…” the
bound and drugged babe mumbles in nervous embarrassment as a knot of anxious
desire starts coiling in her belly, sending a hot jolt of sexual electricity
from her imprisoned clit up to her brain and back down again. “… But it’s so…
overwhelming… I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep from coming if you keep me
all stuffed up like this…”
“You do
and you’ll be punished…” Fiona warns her. “You know you’re not allowed to come
without permission.” In fact, knowing that she will be punished for it will
only make it more difficult for the girl to control herself and Fiona knows
this. It is amusing to shame the girl by making her come more or less against
her will. The brunette smirks to herself as she picks up the heavy black
corset-slip and wraps it around her captive’s slender torso, fastening the
hook-and-eye closures in the front. Unlike the panties, there’s no stretch at
all in this thick shiny black latex garment. “Now take a deep breath, I’m going
to start lacing you up…” the brunette commands. Obediently, Alison fills her
lungs with air, sucking in her stomach as her dark-haired keeper takes the
laces of the corset in hand and draws them tight… tighter… tighter… cinching in
the young blonde’s waistline relentlessly, compressing it in an iron grip.
“Ohhh… Oooohhhh… Please, Mistress, not so tight… Ohhh noooo…” the helpless
blonde begs breathlessly. The stiff steel stays of the waist-cincher
constricting her middle force her ribcage up to make her ringed and upthrust
breasts more prominent and cause her equine buttocks to jut out saucily from
beneath the frou-frou of the little skirt as her body is molded implacably into
the desired hourglass silhouette.
Fiona
works her way up and down the long line of close-set eyelets mounted in the
steel backbone of the extremely severe corset, making them meet from top to
bottom in an unbroken line, reducing the gasping blonde’s waist to a mere
sixteen inches, her body taking on an exaggerated wasplike configuration inside
the rigidly constricting carapace that threatens to squeeze the breath out of
her and holds her whole body from chest to hips as stiff as a board. Alison
pants shallowly, hyperventilating in an effort to draw enough oxygen into her
lungs. She feels faint and lightheaded, her pulse ringing in her ears as her
body slowly begins to adjust to its hard shell of rubber and steel. Gradually
the roar of blood in her head subsides, leaving her limp and weak-kneed as she
hangs there in the doorway passively awaiting further developments.
So
overwhelmed is she by the sensation of being squeezed as if by a giant fist
that she barely notices as Fiona carefully rolls the bright pink rubber
stockings over her bright painted toes and up her legs, stretching them tight
as she goes rather like rolling a condom up over a hard dick, and fastens them
firmly to the eight the tops of the dangling slave girl’s thighs. Shaking some
more of the talcum powder into the insides of the pointy-toed and very
high-heeled black latex boots, which have been unlaced all the way down to the
ankle, she gets the tightly-corseted slave girl to step into them, pushing her
heels down into the rigidly steel-reinforced last to encase them firmly within.
It’s a tight squeeze, even for Alison’s slender and smallish feet, and her toes
are cramped together mercilessly by the sharply tapering points at the tips of
the boots. Once she’s got the shoe part of the boot on, Fiona goes to work on
the laces, pulling them as tight as a pair of ice skates all the way up the
girl’s shins, finally tying them at the back with a double knot. Alison’s feet
and ankles are now locked pretty much rigidly in place, all of her weight now
resting uneasily on the balls of her highly-arched feet, which are held en
pointe as it were by the unbending steel sole of the boot, forcing the girl to
stand on tip-toes. Alison shifts her weight uncomfortably from one leg to the
other but this just causes the plugs in her pussy and ass to jiggle around as she
hangs there helplessly. “Ohhh Mistress… I don’t know how I’m going to be able
to walk in these things…” she protests feebly. “Don’t worry, sweetie… we won’t
be running any marathons…” Fiona replies dismissively. “You’ll get used to it…”
Indeed she has little choice.
All that
remains is to fasten the black rubber crotch strap of the corset up into
Alison’s crack. Fiona fastens one end of the inch-wide belt to the buckle at
the back of the corset just above the little triangle where her ass cheeks
divide and lets it hang down there. Walking around to the front of her dangling
captive she reaches between her legs to pull the strap up into her
rubber-covered crotch and thread it through the buckle at the front of the
corset. Alison becomes alarmed when she finally realizes the purpose of this
instrument and starts babbling and moving her hips around in an effort to get
away from it but all that ends instantly when Fiona savagely jerks on the end
of the strap, forcing it hard up into the captive blonde’s pussy and asscrack
and spreading her robber-covered labia around it. She buckles it as tightly as
she is able. ‘OOOOOOHHHHH… AAAAAAAHHHHH…” The helpless blonde gasps as the twin
torpedoes are forced even harder into her clutching sex holes, the tight
cruppering strap exerting a relentless pressure on her upstanding little clit
where it is clipped to the rubber panties, making it twitch and jump with
mingled pain and arousal. “There now…” Fiona remarks with satisfaction… “How’s
that feel?”
“OHHH
GODDD…” The submissive former secretary moans, completely at a loss for words.
More than anything she feels totally dominated, totally controlled, and in
spite of being highly uncomfortable her sluttish little pussy is creaming and
squishing around the fat phallic intruders that fill her fore and aft. “I take
that to mean that you find this exciting…” Fiona comments sarcastically… don’t
you you little whore?” “Y…Yess, Mistressss…” the squirming and gasping sex
slave hesitantly admits. Her captor knows her too well… in fact she is on the
verge of coming already. ‘V…V…Very exciting…”
“You’re a
live one, all right…” Fiona remarks, picking up the black rubber
shoulder-length fingerless gloves, decorated with pink lace at the tops of the
arms and along the V shape at the back of the hand. She reaches up to unfasten
one of Alison’s delicate wrists from the cuffs that hold them high over her
head, unlocking it with a tiny key and leaving the other hand fastened to the
doorframe as she rolls the tight black rubber glove up over the submissive
blonde’s girlishly slender arm, keeping a firm hold on her captive at all
times. Not that she needs to… Alison is too far gone already to make any
struggle or protest as her mistress takes her now blackly-gloved hand and
replaces the cuff taken off her with a black one of identical design, snapping
the steel-reinforced and slightly padded shackle tightly around her captive’s
wrist over the glove with an audible click as the ratchet locks. The
dark-haired bitch then refastens that hand to the doorframe and repeats this
process on her other arm, and exchanges the white pearl choker collar around
the blonde’s neck for a similar one with
black obsidian beads and a black cameo with the same design of crossed whips at
the center.
At last
Alison is completely dressed, although outfitted might be a better term,
needing only to get her make-up and hair done to be ready to assume her role
and entertain whatever guests may be arriving. As usual, Fiona releases the
lovely blonde’s hands from up over her head, refastening them behind her back
before sitting her down on the bench before the makeup table, clipping her
wrist cuffs to a ring in the frame of the bench behind her so she cannot get up
again. In the shape Alison is in all this control is not strictly necessary but
Slate has instructed her to see to it that the blonde is kept in bondage at all
times. In fact the tightly-laced blonde can barely move at all, walking
stiff-legged and teetering on the insanely high heels of her boots, forced to
sit up stiffly at attention by the
constriction of the rigid corset-slip encasing her body. Fiona walks
over to her with the CO2-powered earring gun, loading some small black crystal
studs into the chamber.
“Hold
still, now, honey…” the brunette commands, taking one of Alison’s delicate
translucent ears between her fingers and lining up the piercing device
carefully. POW!… POW!… POW!… POW!… Soon four new studs have been driven through
the cartilage at the outer edge of the blonde’s upper ears, bringing the total
of piercings in each ear to nine, running up the earlobes and arranged in a
semi-circle around the circumference of the ear just inside the fold. Fiona
proceeds to fill these holes with a series of larger and larger studs as she
works her way down, changing over to larger hanging or dangling earrings as she
reaches the last three holes punctured in the blonde’s earlobes. The bottom set
is of silver, hung with many black crystal beads, looking almost like a
miniature chandelier as it dangles down to her shoulder, heavy enough to drag
her earlobe down slightly with it. The one next to it is identical but smaller,
perhaps three inches in length, and the one above it a one inch chain set with
similar beads. The earrings tinkle like doorchimes every time Alison moves her
head. Unlike her nipples and pussy, which had been numbed by injections when
they were pierced, the two new holes in each ear burn and sting, bringing tears
to her eyes that slowly roll down her cheek and which she can’t wipe away
because of her cuffed hands. That’s why Fiona did this before applying her
makeup. Alison shivers inwardly, remembering that she may still be pierced
again in other areas. Slate certainly seemed to be intrigued by what had been
done to Andrea, the hostess at the Caligula Club, and she fears he has made
similar plans for her…perhaps even today…
Momentarily
lost in these ruminations, she sits silently as Fiona deftly dabs her tears
with a tissue and starts applying her makeup. The brunette is going for a more
dramatic and less innocent effect this time to go with the bizarrely
provocative black and pink get-up her captive is wearing. Heavy eyeshadow
fading from blue-grey to black, black eyeliner and mascara, her cheekbones
sharply delineated and a darker shade of glossy magenta lipstick exaggerate the
pouting fullness of her lips against a starkly white foundation that gives her
a sort of haunted and whorishly sensual look… a far cry from the sweet and
innocent victim of yesterday. She looks like a bad girl for sure… a bad girl
who can’t wait to be punished in her outlandishly kinky rubber outfit. No doubt
this is just what Fiona had in mind, making it glaringly obvious that she’s a
slave to the whip… to the needle…
Now that
Alison’s earrings and makeup are done, her black-clad mistress goes to work on
her hair, unwrapping the towel/turban from around her head and combing out her
slightly wavy ash-blonde tresses. The brunette decides to put her hair up for a
change today, combing it back from her face and gathering it tightly in a
ponytail at the back of her head with a thick black rubber band which she wraps
around there four or five times to hold it securely. The immobilized blonde
feels the skin of her forehead and temples being drawn back tightly by the pull
on her scalp. Once this is done, Fiona patiently weaves her captive’s silky
locks into a single long braid, fixing another rubber band to the end to keep
it from unraveling. She then twists the whole thing around onto the back of her
head in a French Knot, fastening it in place with bobby pins. She then inserts
a hair clip with a big fluffy black crepe bow mounted on it through the knot
and locks it into place. Poor Alison feels as though even her hair is in
bondage, so tightly is it pulled back. Exactly the effect her mistress
intended, no doubt…
For all
of that, she does look exquisite and fabulously exotic… a vision to harden the
cock of any male who isn’t certified brain-dead. Once again, Alison is struck
dumb with her own reflection, marveling at the image that confronts her in the
mirror. She can hardly recognize herself. The young woman in the mirror seems
like a creature from another world, an apparition from some sadist’s wet dream.
A shock of heat and shame runs through her as she realizes that yes that’s really
her sitting there, transformed into this wickedly provocative and
sensual-looking being. Her creamy hairless pussy and asshole milk eagerly on
the thick rubbery intruders that fill her hot squirmy insides, her pierced and
clipped clit throbbing with drugged-out and anxious desire against the tight
black rubber strap that runs up between her legs. Her lips part to reveal two
pearly white teeth as she breathes softly through her open mouth, aching with
vulnerability. She realizes that even the gentle and imploring expression on
her face cannot help but inspire fresh acts of sadistic lust. She looks like
she’s ready for action and in truth she is… all she needs now is a man to fuck
her, she thinks to herself in shameful excitement. A big strong man… a demanding
man… a man like Slate…
“You
certainly do look tempting…” Fiona remarks, breaking into the dolled-up
blonde’s train of thought… “Even if I do say so myself. Spider is going to
cream in his jeans when he sees you. Speaking of which, he should be here any
moment now… it’s almost noon. Shall we go out into the living room to wait? I
could do with another cup of coffee…” “Yes, Mistress… whatever you say…” Alison
replies obediently. She’s certainly in no position to argue. “Since you’ve been
such a good girl, I have a little surprise for you…” the brunette announces
with a sneaky grin. Reaching down to her waist, she presses a little button on
some sort of electronic device… Alison’s eyes open wide in shock and if
anything she suddenly sits up a little straighter on the bench… the twin
torpedoes buried in her hot soft insides suddenly start to vibrate and thrum in
a pulsing rhythm… not only that but they’re getting warm… the one in her cunt
is passing the vibrations through her mound and making her clit jiggle in time
with it… the shackled blonde almost passes out with the sudden burst of
sensations emanating from her pelvis, gasping and moaning incoherently.
The
brunette unclips her shackled wrists from the ring at the back of the vanity
bench, leaving them fastened behind her, and forces the blonde to stand up,
holding her firmly by the upper arm to keep her from losing her balance.
Keeping a
firm hold on the captive receptionist, she guides her out into the other room
as the tightly-laced young woman teeters unsteadily on her six-inch heels, the
vibrators buzzing away merrily inside her. She is terrified of falling with her
hands tied behind her back like this. The twin plugs inside her wiggle and
jiggle around with every step and her chafed little clit rubs and pulls against
the cruppering strap that bisects her.
Halfway across the floor she freezes, overcome by a shuddering orgasm as
her overstimulated cunt and asshole seize around the impaling dildos and her
belly heaves. Fiona looks on with annoyance, then amusement. She knew this was
coming… in fact she made it happen.
Flicking off the switch that keeps the dildos buzzing, she takes the
still-trembling blonde’s chin in her hand, forcing her to look into her eyes.
“Didn’t I tell you not to come without permission?” she demands… “Just for that
you will be chained to the whipping post while we wait. Perhaps additional
punishments will be in order…“ It matters little to Alison… she is long past
having any control over her body and they both know it. It’s all just a kind of
twisted game…
Fiona
leads the unsteady blonde across what in more innocent times was the living
room to the whipping post at the far end of the room, turning on the spotlight
overhead to bathe the area in brightness. “You can just hang out here for a
while…” the sultry-looking brunette announces offhandedly, fastening Alison by
the ring at the back of her collar to a short chain dangling from a hook
overhead on the pillar. “We’ll just call you Exhibit A…” The severely-corseted
and plugged up blonde is forced to stand there motionless at attention, her
hands still tied behind her and at some risk of choking herself if she even
tries to move. She tries to lean back against the post and take some of the
weight off her painfully-constricted toes. “No, No… this will never do… You
must stand up straight…” Fiona exclaims. “Perhaps a little elbow-binding is in
order… It’s simply amazing what it can do for a girl’s posture…”
Alison
hangs there helplessly, her stomach tightening in dread as Fiona walks back
into the bedroom and rummages around for a minute. She returns in a minute with
a pair of wide black leather cuffs in her hand. Turning the rubber-gloved
blonde around so that she is facing the black pillar, she buckles one of the
cuffs tightly around each of her elbows over the gloves. She then threads a
black leather cord through the D rings mounted opposite the buckles on the
cuffs, turning them inward so that they face each other and looping it through
a couple of times. Relentlessly, she pulls on the ends of the cord, forcing
Alison’s elbows together behind her back until the two rings meet and then
tying it off securely with a double knot that will not slip. The lovely sex
slave’s shoulders are pulled down and back severely, her shoulder blades
scrunched together by the inward pressure of her bound elbows.
“OHHH,
MISTRESS… PLEASE… NOT SO TIGHT…” the defenseless blonde pleads forlornly,
already quite uncomfortable after only a few seconds. Fiona turns her back
around. “Shut up, Alison…” her mistress commands, putting a finger to her
roommate’s lips to silence her. “You’re going to stay like this until Spider is
done piercing your tits… One more word from you and I’ll take my quirt to them
first. Would you like that?” Fiona asks, reaching up with her hand to toy with
the rings already piercing the blonde’s tender pink nipples, pulling and
tugging on them just hard enough to make the slave girl gasp. “N… No, Mistress…
Please, Mistress… I’ll be good… I’ll be good…” the terrified young woman babbles
before lapsing into cowed silence. In fact, the binding of her elbows does
cause her lusciously rounded tits to thrust themselves forward with insouciant
boldness, their size and prominence exaggerated by the narrowness of her
backward and down-pulled shoulders. Alison twists and wiggles her arms and
hands helplessly, biting her lip in frustration, but there’s no escaping their
implacable grip. She is just going to have to stay like this until somebody
sets her free.
Far from setting her free, Fiona proceeds to
strap her tightly to the whipping post. After all she doesn’t want the girl to
lose her balance and accidentally strangle herself. By the time she is done,
wide belts hold her adorable captive tightly to the black pillar that dominates
that end of the room. Her ankles, her legs, her waist and shoulders are all
strapped tightly to the post and she can barely even twitch.
Fiona
walks back over to the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of coffee and sitting
herself down on the couch, smiling to herself as she looks over at the spotlit
girl across the room. It’s good for her to make Alison wait… build up a little
suspense. The minutes drag on, the hands of the wall clock slowly approaching
the vertical as the cuffed and plugged blonde is forced to stand there silently
at the post, growing rapidly more anxious and uncomfortable by the minute as
Fiona sits there watching her and nonchalantly flipping through a fashion
magazine and listening to the radio. It kind of reminds the blonde of sitting
in a dentist’s office and waiting to have your teeth drilled. Then Fiona turns
the vibrators back on….
CHAPTER
THREE
Finally
the doorbell rings. Fiona gets up to answer it and lets Spider in, alone this
time. Alison still stands there tightly belted to the whipping post, her arms
and hands tied behind her back and the twin vibrators humming away in her cunt
and ass. She is in such a delirium of pain and sexual torment at this point
that she barely even notices when the long-haired greasy biker shows up with
his nasty little bag of tricks. Her arms and shoulders ache relentlessly and
the constant stimulation in her nether regions is driving her crazy. She’s
already had several orgasms and can’t seem to catch her breath. Fiona finally
decides to give her a break and turn off the buzz bombs inside her for a
while. When she finally sees and
recognizes Spider a sick feeling of dread overcomes her as she remembers his
hands holding the gleaming piercing needles, thrusting them remorselessly
through her flesh… Now she is certain she will feel them again and it won’t be
long. So she tries to concentrate on the
warm fullness of her plugged loins, the throbbing of her pierced and clipped
little clit, unconsciously pressing herself against the strap that runs up
between her legs, attempting to lose herself again in the dreamy glow of sexual
excitement and submission and forget the fear and the burning in her arms and
shoulders. Somehow she knows the more she keeps herself revved up the easier it
will be to take what’s coming…
Spider’s
eyes glitter with feral intensity as he beholds the trussed-up cutie belted to
the whipping post. “That’s quite a get-up you’ve got her in…” he comments to
Fiona, strolling over to inspect the bound blonde more closely, setting down
his black doctor’s bag. “You’ve outdone yourself today. Where does Slate get
this stuff?” “We have it custom made…” the brunette answers, returning from the
kitchen with a frosty beer for the gaunt-faced tattoo artist. “The Caligula
Club buys in bulk, and passes the discounts on to its members.”
“The
Caligula Club, huh… I think I’ve heard about that.” Spider comments as he steps
up to the quivering slave girl chained and belted to the pillar. He reaches up
with his yellow-stained fingers to fondle the nipple rings that decorate her
dramatically outthrust tits. Alison bites her lip, not saying anything since
she hasn’t been spoken to, steeling herself to keep still as the evil=looking
biker toys with her magnificent breasts. With her hands and elbows tied behind
her like this there’s not much she can do to stop him. “I see that her nipple
rings are healing up nicely…” Spider remarks, finally letting go of them after
giving them one or two experimental tugs, drawing a whimper from the the
corseted and cruppered blond. “No sign of infection… have you been using that
ointment I gave you?” “Every day, boss… every day…” Fiona replies.
The
creepy-looking biker turns back to Alison, his eyes as fierce as an
ayatollah’s. “Tell me, girl… how do they feel?” “T… They still hurt a little…”
Alison replies hesitantly, unsure of how to respond. In truth, the pain is not
nearly as bad as it was two days ago when the piercing was first done. Already
she is becoming accustomed to the rings, the weight and feeling of fullness
always with her, keeping her rosy pink buds constantly stimulated and
super-sensitive to the slightest touch. Sometimes she even thinks she is
beginning to enjoy the sensation. The pain is only really bad when someone
pulls on them deliberately to hurt her. “That’s good…”says Spider. “They’re
supposed to hurt a little. The ones in your cunt may take a little longer, but
you’ll get to like them after a while... You little bitches always do…”
“Yes,
sir…” Alison mumbles, reminded once again of the silver shafts and ringlets
that pierce the delicate membranes of her sweet shaved slit, hidden from view
beneath the clinging pink rubber of her panties. They are once again beginning
to throb and burn within her as the injections she received a few hours earlier
are beginning to wear off. “It’s still kind of sore down there…” the blonde
volunteers quietly. “That’s too bad…” Spider replies without sympathy, “ cause
you’re gonna get some more of them today to go with your new tattoo.” Seeing the
stricken look on the young woman’s face as her worst fears are realized, the
white-trash tattoo artist almost bursts out laughing. “Cheer up, babe… after
today it’s all over, at least for a while. I don’t think I could put any more
metal in you if I wanted to… at least not any place where it would do any good,
unless Slate decides he wants to get your nose done, or maybe your tongue… but
I don’t think he really goes for that.” The suffering blonde’s heart sinks at
the idea of having her septum pierced like some sort of farm animal. But in fact Slate has no desire
to mar the delicate beauty of her face.
Turning
to Fiona, he noisily drains the last of his beer with a loud belch, crushing
the can in his hand and tossing it aside. “Whattaya say let’s get this show on
the road… You got some injections ready for this bitch or are you gonna make
her take it straight?” “Coming right up…” the brunette announces, “You want
some too?” “Nah… that shit’s a whore’s high.” Spider answers… “I brought me
some crank… much better for getting some work done. You oughta try some…”
“Don’t mind if I do…” Fiona replies… “Alison can wait. She’s not going
anywhere. You mind if I flick on the TV? You won’t find it too distracting,
will you?” “Not if the show is anything like the one you had on yesterday,”
Spider says, remembering the tape of Alison’s anal gang bang with Tony, Mickey
and Luis. “It’ll help me get in the mood…”
“It
should be pretty hot…” Fiona explains, “It’s a little movie we plan to call
‘Alison’s Big Debut.” So saying, she slips the tape into the VCR, which
immediately starts displaying a scene of Alison, Slate and herself entering the
Caligula Club the preceding evening. Meanwhile, Spider cooks up a couple of
shots of crystal meth with his old beat-up Zippo. As the drama on the TV
unfolds, he and Fiona take turns tying each other off and mainlining the
powerful stimulants. “Wheeooo… this shit burns,” the brunette comments as the
drug quickly spreads though her veins, hitting her in the head with a bang that
makes her sit right up straight, her eyes shining with unnatural brightness.
Spider, too, seems suddenly filled with a fiendish energy, every muscle in his
skinny wiry body suffused with power. He feels invincible, invulnerable…
savagely determined to act out the twisted sadistic impulses that coil in his
brain like venomous snakes. Oh Christ… Alison thinks to herself as she hangs
there helplessly awaiting her fate… that’s all these two vampires need.
On the television set across the room, Alison and her two hopped-up tormentors are now treated to a replay of the events at the club last night, starting with the punishment of poor Josephine. Events there are routinely and automatically videotaped by hidden cameras in every room, although the faces of the members are blanked out by electronic means. “That Caligula Club looks like a fun place,” Spider remarks…”What do I have to do to join up?” “I’m afraid it’s a little out of your league…” Fiona replies. “Can you come up with a million bucks? Do you have any political influence?” “Hmmm… You may be right…” the evil-looking tattoo artist admits grudgingly. “I seem to have left my last million in my other pants. So what do you say we get on with the job at hand?” My thoughts exactly…” agrees the brunette bitch as she reaches for her silver tray and starts mixing up a dose of drugs for the silent slave girl who watches in growing apprehension from across the room.
“I want her well-sedated…” Spider instructs… “It won’t do to have her thrashing around while I’m working on her, she might injure herself.” “You got it, tiger…” Fiona replies, filling up a couple of the big 10cc syringes. She approaches the bound girl at the whipping post, carrying her silver tray and setting it down on a little table nearby. Alison’s whole corseted torso is tightly strapped to the shiny black pillar behind her, completely immobilized except for her head. At least it takes some of the tension off her legs, although her elbows and shoulders are cramped and burning from being bound in this unnatural position. The brunette unbelts Alison’s legs from the post and reaches down to unfasten the rubber strap that runs up in her crotch, unbuckling it from the bottom of the corset. The captive blonde sighs in relief as her Mistress pulls it free, then bends down to pull the rubber plug=panties down. Carefully, Fiona unclips the clit ring from the clinging elastic garment and eases the two nine-inch dildos out of her imprisoned roommate’s clutching holes, tugging the panties down her legs and making her step out of them.
Alison watches all this in mounting apprehension, relieved to finally be freed from the uncomfortably tight crotch bondage, but feeling even more defenseless and vulnerable now that her naked and hairless cunt is exposed. It is but the work of a moment for her dark-haired keeper to fasten her high-heeled and rubber-booted ankles into a spreader bar, forcing her legs wide apart and opening up the furrow of her cunt and asscrack. Fiona reaches up to fondle her sweet shaved pussy, insinuating two gloved fingers into her cunt and asshole, still moist with her juices from the stimulation of the phallic intruders she has been wearing for the last hour or so. The brunette slowly slides her finger up inside the blonde’s slit to tickle the underside of her ringed and exquisitely sensitive little joy button, sending a shiver up the girl’s spine that makes her gasp. “MMMMMM…. MMMMMFFF…” Alison moans helplessly as her Mistress’ skillful fingers bring her to arousal once again, only to leave her dangling on the edge as she pulls her hands away. “I think she’s ready for her shots now…” the brunette bitch announces.
On the TV set in the background, Alison and Andrea are fastened in 69 position to the big red velvet cushion, busily lapping each other’s ringed and shaved cunts. The camera pulls in for a closeup of Alison’s face buried in the other girl’s pussy, showing the way in which Andrea’s clitoral shaft has been pierced with a close-set ladder of rings which tend to thrust it forward and make it stand out stiffly at the top of her hairless slit. Her mons has been tattooed in black and magenta with the familiar crossed-whip design and the initials of her master. Another line of five rings pierces the platinum blonde’s inner labia, which glitter in the light as Alison’s tongue can be seen working busily inside.
“I assume what we’re looking at here is more or less what the boss wants done with this bitch…” Spider comments, picking up his black bag and approaching the tightly-bound blonde at the whipping post. “You got it, Spider-man” the brunette answers, “Although you can feel free to make improvements… no sense making them exactly identical.” “Let’s start at the top and work out way down…” the greasy long-haired biker suggests. “Give me about a ten cc hypo for her tits. Fortunately her nipples are quite long and prominent. There’s plenty of room in there for another ring or two, as long as we don’t make them too thick. Maybe one set going horizontally in front of the first, and another vertical one right at the tip…” “Go for it…” Fiona advises… “Slate wants her to be the most well-ringed little slut at the Club…”
“All rightie, then…” the gaunt tattoo artist says briskly, his eyes shining with unnatural excitement as he slips on a pair of rubber surgical gloves and brings the gleaming glass cylinder of the 10cc syringe with its one-inch needle up to Alison’s temptingly outthrust nipples, forced to jut out boldly in front of her by the constriction of her elbows behind her back. The helpless blonde stares down at the approaching needle, her eyes wide with fear, her whole body so tightly immobilized by the straps that hold her to the whipping post that she is unable to even twitch. Fiona, acting the role of nurse-assistant, carefully cleans the area to be injected with a cool and stinging alcohol wipe, bringing her captive’s tingling little pink buds to involuntary erection as the enslaved receptionist whimpers in apprehension. Spider reaches up with his left hand to take one of her nipple rings between his rubber-gloved thumb and forefinger, pulling and stretching her tender pink pap away from her body and making her wince. Her delicious bosom rises and falls rapidly as she pants in fear.
Without further ado he stabs half the length of the needle directly into the center of her stretched-out nipple from underneath, squeezing out a couple of ccs of the narcotizing drug solution right into the base of it just behind where the ring pierces her. To Alison, the stuff feels freezingly cool as it flows into the tender tissues of her bright pink bud, first numbing it and then causing it to throb dully, warmly… A tendril of dreamy narcotic bliss slowly reaches up from the point of the needle to the base of her brain, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and causing her to relax in her bonds, closing her eyes as Spider pulls the needle free to repeat the procedure on the other side of her chest. She doesn’t want to watch any more… better to just let herself drift away on the tide of drugged-out euphoria that wells up within her as she feels the surgically-keen point of Spider’s needle injecting more of the soothing liquid ecstasy into her other luscious breast to spread through her bloodstream. She bites her lip and moans slightly with the piercing pain as the needle works into the nerve center of her tit, her face relaxing and her mouth hanging open as the stuff flows into her. Still, there’s enough stimulant mixed in with the solution to keep her from completely zoning out, and she feels an exciting tingle start to spread through her body as it starts working on her nervous system, sending a sudden hot shock of arousal down to her stiffening little clit that seems to radiate from the point where she is pierced. “UNNNHHHH… OOOHHHH…” she moans helplessly. Maybe this won’t be so bad…
Meanwhile, Spider takes up a second syringe with a longer two-inch needle and returns to her other breast, which is now fairly well anesthetized from the injection he gave her before. Taking her swollen nipple between his thumb and forefinger again, he carefully threads the needle directly into the puckered end of it, stabbing down into the center of her breast, stopping every half inch or so to depress the plunger of the syringe until the entire length of it is buried straight into her and the chrome nut at the base of the needle is pressed tightly against the very tip of her bright pink pap. Alison’s entire nipple and aureole are now pretty much completely desensitized and swollen to twice their normal size from all the liquid injected into them, and her whole breast is filled with glowing warmth so although she feels the pinch and pressure of the needle moving within her there is no more pain… only a relaxed dreamy creamy glow and a tingling nervous excitement that seems to gather in her loins… In a matter of moments the other breast has received similar treatment as Spider empties the last of the second syringe inside her already engorged and ringed tit flesh. By this time Alsion’s head is lolling around on her neck, her eyes glassy and her pink lipsticked mouth hanging open slackly as she enters a sort of sexual never never land where there all thought is obliterated and only sensation remains… “That oughta do it…” the grungy-looking speed freak announces with a smirk… “We’re ready for installation.”
Reaching down into his black doctor’s bag, he lays out a number of items on the white sterile napkin that covers the silver tray. Unwrapping them from their cellophane envelopes, he displays two sets of silver rings, both smaller and thinner than the ones which already pierce the base of the helpless slave girl’s tender nips. The larger set is maybe 3/4 of an inch wide and perhaps an eighteen gauge, the smaller ones only half an inch in diameter and quite thin. He takes a forceps and clamps off the tip of the girl’s nipple past the point where she is already pierced, holding it in his left hand and pulling and stretching it away from her chest. Even through her drug-induced haze, this gets Alison’s attention. The tightly-bound blonde whimpers in apprehension and discomfort, unable to move even a muscle from the neck down.
Relentlessly, with a steady even pressure, he thrusts the three inch long piercing lance horizontally through the flesh of her bright pink bud between the tines of the forceps, about an eighth of an inch in front of the rings already installed there at their base. The flesh on the other side of her nipple stretches, then breaks as the needle pokes through, skewering her. Alison starts sniveling, heartsick with the knowledge of this fresh mutilation, but at this point she knows better than to say anything… they would only gag her. Looking like a refugee from the Manson Family, the greasy haired tattoo artist goes to work on her other tit with fiendish intensity, repeating the whole gruesome process. Tears drip down Alison’s soft cheeks as she cries silently in self-pity, and it’s a good thing she’s wearing waterproof mascara or it would be all over her face. When both of her nipples have been pierced from side to side, Spider releases the forceps and uses it to take up a smaller curved needle like the ones surgeons use to stitch up wounds. Carefully gripping her nipple so that he doesn’t stab himself on the three inch lances already piercing her from side to side, he thrusts the short curved piercing instrument up through the very tip of her grotesquely swollen pink bud from underneath, perhaps an eighth of an inch from the tip and in front of the horizontal piercing he has already made. He then repeats this process on the other side of her bosom. Alison gasps and sobs in her bondage, the veins on her neck popping out, aware even through the narcotic haze that envelops her of the irreparable damage being done to her sensitive sex flesh. Although the ends of her tits are still pretty much completely anesthetized, she feels faint with the trauma and stress which has been inflicted on her body, and sags in her bonds as she sobs in helpless frustration and anguish. Fiona looks on with amused contempt as she absently strokes her hot wet boogie through the crotch of her catsuit. It gets her excited to make the girl cry.
The work of piercing her done, Spider sets about to install the sniveling slave girl’s new rings. First he carefully pulls the needles free from one of her breasts, taking a generous dollop of cauterizing ointment on his rubber-gloved finger and rubbing into the holes he has made to stanch the slight flow of blood that oozes from her wounds. Alison can dimly feel it burning inside her, sealing off the punctures and making them permanent as the creepy-looking tattoo artist does the same thing to her other nipple, waiting a minute or two to give the coagulant time to do its work.
With sure hands born of long experience, the fiendish-looking biker threads the two sets of open-ended silver rings through the holes he has made in the suffering slave girl’s nipples, the larger ones going through her horizontally just in front of the ones already there, the smaller ones piercing her vertically just at the tips of her swollen pink buds, twisting them around this way and that to make sure they move freely within her. He removes a soldering iron from his black bag, one of those new- fangled ones that only gets hot when it comes in contact with metal, and unrolls a short length of silver solder from a spool.
“Now hold very still…” he warns the multiply-pierced blonde as he brings the iron up to the tip of her tits. Alison almost wets herself with the intensity of her fear, holding herself rigid, afraid to even breathe. Deftly, without so much as singeing her, the greasy long-hair solders the rings closed, fixing them within her flesh permanently. The only way to remove them now would be to cut them off with a jeweler’s saw or file.
Spider stands back, putting down his tools and pausing to admire his work. Alison’s nipples are now completely stuffed with metal and swollen to twice their normal size. “These things are going to be pretty sore for the next couple of days…” he warns Fiona. “I’d keep her well sedated for the next couple of days and make sure she doesn’t touch them. She could do some real damage if she tries to rip them out. Tell Slate not to let anybody else mess with them too much either… give ‘em a chance to heal. We don’t want to wind up taking this bitch to the hospital.” “Well, Slate will do what he wants to do…” Fiona comments, “But I’ll certainly pass on the message. You’re the expert, after all…”
“Yeah, yeah… but I don’t think he wants to fuck up his hottest little property, so make sure he knows what I said. Let me have another syringe… it’s time to get to work on her cunt…” the hopped-up tattoo freak says callously, pausing to light a Camel and taking a couple of deep drags. He blows the smoke out in rings, which he punctures with a rubber-gloved finger. “No sense letting them die virgins…” he smiles, revealing a mouthful of crooked yellow teeth. “…And get me another beer while you’re at it. This is thirsty work.” Poor Alison, who has remained silent throughout her ordeal, knowing that to beg for mercy would only bring on a torrent of abuse, finally opens her dry mouth to plead for a little water… please just a little water. “Let her have a few sips…” Spider advises… “Not too much… we don’t want her puking it up on us.” Fiona returns with a can of beer for the man and a glass of ice water with a straw, which she holds up to Alison’s gratefully sucking lips. They all take a breather for a few minutes as Spider sips his beer and finishes smoking his cigarette, grinding it out in the ashtray before changing his slightly blood-spattered gloves for a fresh and sterile new pair. He snaps them on with evident relish as Fiona hands him a new 10cc syringe, filled to the brim with clear liquid hypnotic-stimulant solution.
Alison stares down the length of her body, shivering in apprehension and unable to tear her eyes away as her gaunt and sallow-faced tormentor brings the two inch needle up to her nakedly hairless slit, held gaping open by the spreader bar between her legs. With her waist tightly strapped to the whipping post behind her, she is powerless to even wiggle. She winces and grits her teeth as the lance thrusts home deep into the center of her clitoral nerve shaft, driving up and in from underneath, behind the shaft that pierces her. Spider squeezes out a couple of ccs right there, just where the bundle of nerves and cartilage disappears into her belly, pausing for a moment to let it take effect. Soon the familiar warm tingling is suffusing the upper part of her cunt, easing the pain of the piercing needle within her and spreading a dreamy relaxed glow through her bloodstream and up into her terrified and stressed-out brain, making her sigh involuntarily with relief as her faithless body surrenders itself to the influence of the drugs and the probing lance starts to move within her flesh, seeking out new and as yet untouched areas to penetrate and filling them with soothing and stimulating liquid heat, pulling back and stabbing repeatedly back in again from a different angle until she feels like she’s spinning off into outer space, barely feeling the point of the glittering steel shaft that pierces her to the hilt.
Spider takes his time, injecting a little bit here, a little bit there, spreading the stuff around inside her and giving it time to take effect. Finally he pulls the empty glass cylinder from the top of her slit only after five minutes or so of probing around, when he’s sure that she is totally whacked-out and desensitized down there except for a rather pleasant throbbing tingle. Once again, Alison’s head is lolling around on her neck, her eyes closed and her mouth open as she slips off into a dreamy cunty never-never land, beyond fear or pain but still alive to pleasure and desire.
Now that he’s got her where he wants her, the white-trash tattoo artist is ready to get to work on her sweet shaved pussy with his gleaming piercing tools, which Fiona has carefully laid out on the tray beside him. Taking a pair of forceps between his rubber-gloved fingers, he fastens it onto the hooded shaft of the bound blonde’s clitoris over the shaft that pierces it, locking the tines closed and pulling it out from between the folds of her outer labia there at the top of her slit. With another pair of forceps he takes one of the curved needles similar to the one he used to pierce the tips of her nipples and thrusts it through the shaft of her sexual nerve center behind the vertical shaft that already pierces her, working it back and forth a few times to open up the hole. Leaving the needle in place, he repeats the process a quarter of an inch higher up on the hood, relocking the forceps to hold the shaft of her feminine erection securely and pull it away from her body. Three more times he skewers her, a little higher up each time, until he gets to the point where the fold of flesh merges into her soft mound. A row of five gleaming steel needles now pierces through the hood of Alison’s clit, penetrating through the bundle of nerves and cartilage that lies inside it and tending to force it up and out, raising it to added prominence by the pressure of all the steel within. “With her clit pierced like this it will always be exposed and super-sensitive…” Spider comments to Fiona, who is looking over his shoulder and acting as sort of a surgical assistant, her dark eyes gleaming with unnatural intensity. “Should make her even more responsive… not that she needs it,” the ghoulish biker adds cynically.
Alison stands there rigid and transfixed, her entire consciousness focused on the row of needles that skewer the entire length of her throbbing clitoral shaft from top to bottom, making it pound in time with her pulse, ending in the thicker vertical shaft with its attached ring that dangles right at the top of the opening of her slit. Unfastening the forceps that hold her little fold of flesh, Spider removes the needles one by one, rubbing coagulant jelly into the punctures as he had done before to seal them up and keep them from bleeding or healing over. “Don’t forget to keep using this stuff…” he reminds Fiona, handing her the tube. “We don’t want the holes to close up and adhere to the rings. Speaking of which, let’s get those suckers mounted in there…” he says, shaking out an envelope filled with five silver circlets, similar to the ones that now adorn the tips of Alison’s nipples. Opening up the gap between the ends of the silver circles with a pair of jeweler’s pliers, he threads them one by one through the holes he has made, once again using the forceps to pull her skin taught and away from her belly.
All that now remains is for him to solder them closed. Spider frowns in fierce concentration, his beady black eyes narrowed and a little muscle twitching in his jaw… A delicate operation, but one accomplished with a minimum of fuss and thankfully without burning the delicate membranes of the tightly-bound slave girl’s pussy. Alison is almost swooning with the intensity of her terror and the stress of the wounds that have been inflicted upon her, although she feels little actual pain, still doped up from the repeated injections she has been given. What she can feel is a pressure and pulsating fullness along the whole length of her clitoral shaft, as stuffed with metal as it now is. Between that and the two new rings at the tip of her breasts, she can think of nothing else, can’t imagine ever being able to think of anything else… which of course is just exactly how Slate wants it. Even more than the physical effect, the mental and psycho-sexual result is devastating. She has been reduced in her own mind to nothing more than a cunt and a pair of tits. Nothing else matters. She stands there abjectly sniffling with tears running down her cheeks, feeling more than ever completely lost and totally enslaved. But Spider isn’t done yet. The greasy haired biker brings a fourth syringe up to her slit, spreading her coral-colored inner labia for more injections, lower down…
Alison barely even flinches when the needle sinks home, not even caring what they do to her any more as it works up and down the length of her slit between her inner lips, finally driving into the very mouth of her vagina to empty itself there, leaving her whole pussy as tinglingly numb as the multiply-ringed hood of her clit. The suffering slave girl wishes she could just pass out and sleep through the whole operation, but the stimulants in the mix of drugs that addle her brain keep her stubbornly awake and alert. She feels as if she is disembodied, watching herself from somewhere a million miles out in space as if she were someone else as Spider repeats the whole tedious process of piercing her inner labia, cauterizing the holes and installing three new rings in each pink lip. She now has a line of six rings in each of her delicate and bright pink inner labia so that their entire length is pierced every quarter inch or so. And that’s not counting the bigger and thicker ones in her outer lips.
Adding it all up, this makes a total of twenty four piercings she now wears in her flesh, not even counting the ones in her ears, every one of them an emblem of sexual slavery and submission. Her entire being is dominated by their piercing presence within her, not to mention the constriction of the ultra-severe corset around her waist, the tight bondage to which she is constantly subjected, and the repeated and degrading injections, ass-fuckings, pluggings and whippings she is forced to endure. She feels herself utterly lost and broken, all vestiges of her former personality wiped out and eradicated by the relentless subjugation and punishment of her body and mind until nothing is left but a more-or-less willing receptacle for the perverted and sadistic lusts of others. Shamefully anxious to please and obey the demands of her Master, she quivers with cloying and eager servility, her hairless little cunt always wet and excitedly ready to be penetrated. Surely she deserves to be punished for being such a whore.
Meanwhile, Spider and Fiona are taking a break, smoking a cigarette and sitting back with a fresh beer to admire their handiwork. On the TV screen across the room, Alison is face-down on the cushion at the Caligula Club, moaning in gasping in pain and ecstasy as Slate pounds his oversized member up her well-whipped ass, making her cry out as her clutching spasming rectum clamps down on his massive thickness and she comes and comes and comes on his sodomizing dick, her innocent girlish face contorted in masochistic bliss. “Lookit that…” Spider comments harshly… “She sure loves a dick up her ass, don’t she?” “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it…” Fiona replies sarcastically. “Fuck you, you bitch…” the evil-looking biker responds. “In your dreams, pal… In your dreams…”
This exchange of pleasantries over, it is time for Spider to get back to work. Fiona clears away the detritus of the piercing operation on the silver tray, making room for the long-haired creep’s tattooing equipment. With the expertise born of long practice, he lays out his electric tattooing machine and fills a couple of reservoirs with black and bright pink-magenta ink.
He prepares the smoothly depilated surface of Alison’s mons, wiping it thoroughly with alcohol and laying a thin paper tracing of the design he intends to follow over it. This he wets with water, transferring the design to the surface of her skin like one of those temporary tattoos we used to play with as kids. He flicks the switch on his machine, which starts to buzz loudly as the little needle pistons in and out, pulling his stool in close between Alison’s widely-cuffed legs and reaching up with his rubber-gloved left hand to pull upwards on the skin of her lower belly with his thumb, stretching it taught. He dips the needle into his ink reservoir and brings it up to the tracing he has transferred, ready to start with the final step that will mark the lovely blonde forever as a slave and a prostitute.
At the first touch of the needle, Alison turns rigid in her bonds, biting down hard and grinding her teeth. Unlike her pussy, the skin of her lower belly is still quite sensitive and has not been anesthetized. She can feel every burning stab of the electric needle as he slowly and methodically begins to outline the shape of a pink-magenta heart on her hairless mound. After thirty seconds or so of this, she just lets go and starts screaming shrilly, begging and pleading with him to stop… please stop…
“I think we better muzzle this bitch…” Spider comments disgustedly, pulling back his machine for a moment. “She’s starting to get on my nerves.” “No sooner said than done…” Fiona replies with alacrity, fishing around for a thick black rubber bit which she has kept handy for just such an eventuality. Holding Alison’s nose to force her to open her mouth, she slips the thing between the girl’s teeth and buckles it firmly around the back of her head with a stetchy rubber strap. “Bite down on that…” she instructs the helplessly gagged slave girl. “It will keep you from biting your tongue…” “URKKK… URKKK…” the defenseless young woman protests feebly, bridled as thoroughly as any animal. Spider turns his machine back on, ready to go back to work.
BZZZZZZ…BZZZZZZ… goes the electric needle, tracing the outline of a bright pink heart about three inches high by three inches wide, then filling it in with the stinging indelible ink. Spider pauses every minute or two to wipe away the little flecks of blood and excess ink from the smooth and prominent mound above her slit. The bottom point of the heart just touches the top of her clitoral hood, seeming to point down to the row of rings that pierce her there. Alison twists and thrashes her head around with the relentless stinging pain, the rest of her body immobilized by her tight bondage to the post behind her. “URRKKK… GLRKKK… GLORKKKK…” she expostulates past the choking bit in her mouth. BZZZZZZ…BZZZZZZ…BZZZZZZ…the greasy-haired tattoo artist changes the needle on the machine, dipping it into the black ink as he traces out the shapes of the familiar crossed and looped whips, superimposed over the heart, leaving room for her Master’s initials. In a calligraphic and scroll-like script, he tattoos her forever with the letters DS, right in the middle of the heart underneath and between he crossed whips.
“Now the whole world will know who she belongs to…” he comments darkly. “I’ll bet she’ll never forget it either. The only thing more permanent would be to brand it onto her ass.” “Maybe someday…” replies Fiona musingly. “I don’t think Slate wants her scarred just yet… A few whip marks, maybe, but it would be a shame to mar the soft smoothness of her skin.” The mere mention of the idea sends Alison into a paroxym pf fresh terror. Branded with a red-hot iron… she can scarcely imagine the pain of it… Could such a fate really be in her future? If Slate wills it, it will be, she realizes with helpless resignation. She can only hope that he finds her beautiful enough, moving enough, without making her bear this ultimate mark of his mastery and her submission. “Maybe we should untie her now…” Fiona suggests… “before her shoulders come out of their sockets.”
“Yeah, I guess so…” Spider responds as he tapes a sterile gauze pad over the tattoo he has just finished. He starts packing up his tools and lights up another Camel…”My work here is done. I wouldn’t mind giving her a dose of the old tube steak but I think she needs a rest. This kind of action always gets me worked up. As a matter of fact, I’d advise you to take it easy on her for a day or two and give her a chance to heal. It’ll work out better in the long run. Just keep her doped up and let her sleep it off… That tattoo on her cunt might scab up a little bit before it settles in. Just remember to keep it clean and use that ointment I gave you on the piercings once or twice a day so nothing gets infected. By tomorrow night or so she should be ready to go back into action, although I wouldn’t pull too hard on those rings for a couple of more days…”
“Well, we’ve got her on a kind of rigorous training schedule…” Fiona answers dubiously, “But if you think its best…” “Like I said, you don’t want to wind up taking her to the hospital…” the gaunt-faced tattoo freak reminds her. “Tell Slate I recommend he should back off for a day or two… he’s got plenty of other girls to pick up the slack. Now let’s get her down off that post and into her bed…”
Between the two of them, they unstrap the barely-conscious Alison from the pillar behind her, ungagging her and removing the spreader bar to allow her to finally close her legs and get them under her, although the girl still stands kind of bowlegged due to the throbbing soreness of her cunt. The exhausted blonde captive gasps loudly in relief as the elbow cuffs are finally loosened and pulled off, letting her cramped shoulders slump forward. Fiona even unclasps the wristcuffs from behind her back, refastening them in front of her after reminding her strictly not to touch her rings or tattoo, on the pain of having her elbows bound behind her again. The tortured slave girl obeys mindlessly, allowing them to lead her unsteadily back to the bedroom. Half supported by their guiding arms, she wishes only to collapse into a welcome oblivion. The stimulants in the injections she received have largely worn off by now, leaving her still heavily narcotized and rapidly drifting towards unconsciousness. She dimly feels Fiona’s hands at her back as they lay her down on the bed, loosening the laces of her corset to give her a little breathing room. The brunette unties the laces of her black latex boots and pulls them off, not without some struggle. It feels wonderful to at least be able to bend her joints again…
Alison hardly even stirs as her Mistress fastens her wrist cuffs to the collar around her neck, chaining her to the headboard by the ring in the back of her collar as she always does, finally pulling up the quilted white satin comforter to cover her. A warm cozy fog reaches up to envelop the exhausted blonde, taking her down, down, down into blackness… From the television in the other room the sounds of a whip striking flesh can dimly be heard. A slave girl’s lullabye.
“Maybe I can give you some help with your little problem there…” Fiona suggests to the creepy-looking long haired biker, pointing with a laquered fingernail at his still-bulging erection. “I could use a little action myself… the little slave bitch has been getting all the attention around here. C’mon in my room and we’ll have a little party… that is if you’re not too tired. We’ll do a little dope, smoke a little boo and bump uglies… what do you say?”
“I’m never too tired for that kind of party…”Spider replies with a crooked grin. “Let’s get down…” Arm in arm Alison’s two hopped-up tormentors walk off to while away the afternoon in an orgy of drugs and perverted lust while she sleeps. After they bang up a couple of speedballs, Fiona begs him to tie her to the bed, taking his skinny crooked crank gratefully up her well-padded ass. This is the first good fucking she’s had in days, and she misses it, slipping easily into the submissive role as she pleads with him to give it to her harder and faster. Fiona can work either side of the street with equal enthusiasm, as long as the action is hot… By the time Spider staggers out of the apartment at four in the afternoon, he feels like he’s been through a wringer, which in fact he has. Fiona, on the other hand, is as perky as a sparrow as she lets him out the door, her eyes shining and a catlike smile on her face as she sits down contentedly on the couch in her bathrobe to watch some dumb game show and drink a cup of tea, once again flipping idly through the pages of some glamour magazine, looking for new ideas in hairstyling and makeup. After a little while she goes into Alison’s room, preparing a dose of a powerful painkiller/sedative and injecting it into the drowsy blonde’s softly rounded buttock to keep her knocked out for another couple of hours. She then goes off to her own room to dress for the evening, making herself another fix while she’s at it before she takes a shower and stuffs her ample curves into a shiny black rubber dress of a similar material as Alison’s corset. It has a tight, low-cut bodice and a wide belt, and she finds some black stockings and high-heeled black ankle boots to go with it.
THRILLING RAPE FANTASIES
THE ADVENTURES OF ALISON
VOLUME II
‘HAPPINESS IN SERVITUDE’
note… this story is a continuation of “Thrilling Rape Fantasies
I” which implies that it would probably be better to read that one first,
although readers familiar with the genre will have no trouble picking it up from
here... If you enjoyed the illustrations that accompany the first book please
feel free to contact the author. For a reasonable fee you may commission a
unique and original piece of art to decorate your dungeon or whatever.
CHAPTER ONE
It is
late into the wee hours of a rainy muggy August night as the long black limo
pulls up to the gleaming chrome and glass façade of the uptown highrise
apartment building where Alison is kept. Tony the hulking bodyguard-chauffeur
gets out of the driver’s seat and walks around the car to open the door for his
passengers. As he helps Fiona out of the car the
beautiful young blonde stirs fitfully, awakening from her doze where she
reclines in the back of the limo with her head resting on her Master’s
shoulder.
“We’re
home…” Slate announces softly in the exhausted slave-girl’s ear, gently pushing
her head off his dark-suited shoulder and gathering himself
to rise. He takes her by the arm as she struggles to sit herself up with her
hands still cuffed behind her back beneath the long white satin cape that
covers her half-naked body. Underneath the cape all she is wearing are her
severely-restrictive white corset, her nylons and heels and of course the rings
which pierce her bright pink nipples and her soft shaved cunt. She moans
softly, the burning pain of her recently-whipped and welted buttocks flaring
hotly as she returns to consciousness. Tony the chauffeur reaches in from outside to help
her get out of the car. Between the two men, they assist the caped and bound
blonde across the sidewalk toward the gleaming chrome and glass façade of the
highrise office tower and apartment building where Alison has been a virtual
captive in her own apartment for the last week as her training in sexual servitude
has progressed. She can’t really think of it as her home anymore… not after
everything that has happened there. Old Fred the night doorman rouses himself
to open the door for them. “Late night, huh, folks?…”
Slate favors him with a vague smile as their footsteps echo across the empty
lobby and into the waiting private elevator, which only runs up to the
penthouse level. If the old geezer sees anything unusual in the enslaved young
woman’s condition, the fact that his checks are drawn on Slate’s building
management company encourages him to keep his mouth shut. Besides which he
knows that Slate is not someone you would want to annoy.
The four
of them ride up in the elevator quietly, the two men supporting the weakened
and wavering slave girl between them as they step out on the top floor and
escort Fiona and Alison back to their apartment. Fiona opens the door with one
of those magnetic key cards which she had been given by Slate as Mistress of
the house but which only he possesses the code for. The door locks
electronically on both sides, preventing anyone from entering or leaving
without the passkey. So even if Alison were to somehow awaken in the dead of
night and somehow free herself from the chains holding her to her bed, there’s
no way she could get out of the apartment short of jumping out the window,
forty-five stories up. In fact, thoughts of escape are the last thing on
Alison’s mind right now as her three companions
half-carry the semi-conscious young woman directly into her frilly girlish
bedroom, now decked out with all kinds of bizarre bondage gear. The second that
the two men release her and Fiona takes the cape from around her shoulders, the
cuffed and beaten blonde collapses gratefully on the white satin-covered bed,
sinking swiftly into a black well of unconsciousness.
Her
mistress returns from the closet where she has gone to hang up Alison’s cape to
roll the girl over on her belly, loosening the laces of her corset a couple of
inches to let her rest more easily during the night. She doesn’t take it off
completely and even as the girl sleeps it will continue to mold Alison’s
already=slender form. After several months of this training regimen, the
blonde’s body will become so deformed
and atrophied by this relentless constriction that it will become impossible
for her to sit or stand without the corset’s support, especially as her waist
is reduced to twelve or fourteen inches. Of course, this just will serve to
make her that much more helpless…
While the
girl is lying there on her belly, Fiona takes the time to prepare one more
injection. Something to help her sleep… she doesn’t want Alison waking up two
hours from now from pain. She jabs the needle home in one of the passed-out sex
slave’s lacerated butt cheeks, giving her a good dose of sedative pain-killer
and then gently rubbing some ointment on the oozing welts that stripe the
girl’s still reddened backside. Unclipping the blonde’s wrist bracelets from
behind her back, she takes them off briefly to peel the long white gloves off
of Alison’s arms, then flips the girl over and refastens the girl’s cuffed
hands to her collar and attaches the collar to the headboard of the bed by an
eighteen-inch length of silver chain. Not that Alison is going anywhere, but
it’s good for her to wake up and find herself chained to the bed. Puts her in the proper frame of mind for the rest of the day.
As Fiona reaches down to unfasten the seven
earrings that pierce each of Alison’s delicate translucent ears, Slate leans
over her to inspect the silver piercings in the knocked=out submissive’s
sweetly shaved slit one more time. He fingers them speculatively as the
brunette unlaces Alison’s high-heeled white boots and removes her come-stained
and laddered stockings, tossing them in the trash. “Nighty night, little
Alison… Now you’re all tucked in…” the
hard-faced older man remarks ironically. “I hope you enjoyed your coming-out
party.”
Slate and
Fiona leave the room, turning out the lights and returning to the living room,
where the stolid Tony has been patiently waiting. “Have her ready for me at six
tomorrow evening. Make sure she’s wearing something dramatic. I expect her to
entertain some people…” He instructs the brunette. “And don’t let that greasy tattoo artist wear
her out too much. He should be able to finish with his work by tomorrow,
anyway, at least for now.” Fiona mumbles her assent as Slate turns his back to
her, already making for the door with Tony close on his heels.
CHAPTER TWO
Alison
sleeps long and deeply, too exhausted to even dream. By the time she starts to
come to, the sun is already high in the sky and her bladder is bursting. The
little clock on the bedside table reads almost
In a
moment her kinky brunette keeper is standing there over her, already dressed in
a shiny black leotard and stretch pants, high-heeled boots on her feet and her
little quirt and beeper hanging from her belt. In her hand she holds Alison’s
white leash. “Good morning, little sex puppy…” she greets her blonde roommate
sarcastically. “Is it time to go walkies…?” “Please, Mistress…” the helpless
former receptionist croaks out through her dry mouth, squirming around on the
bed in her anxiety… “I gotta go…” Fiona reaches down to fasten the leash to the
ring attached to the bottom of the burning silver shaft piercing vertically through the anxious
slavegirl’s sore and tender clit,
unfastening Alison’s collar from the chain connecting it to the
headboard and releasing her wrist cuffs from the ring at the front of the
choker, still leaving them tightly clipped together in front of her.
Painfully, the multiply-pierced young blonde rises form
her bed, stiff and sore all over, her recently-whipped buttocks still very
tender where the blackish stripes of her Master’s crop are starting to heal
over and the piercings in her flesh throbbing and burning abominably. She feels
like the inside of her rectum has been used for a punching bag. Besides that,
her nose is running and her eyes are red and watery, a nauseous feeling
building up in the pit of her stomach as the sick craving for more of Slate’s
special synthetic drug blend builds up in her body, jangling her nerve ends.
Apparently the stuff creates a powerful physical addiction… a great marketing
tool when the stuff is produced in sufficient quantities to hit the streets.
Anybody dealing this shit will be guaranteed a steady stream of repeat
customers. Seeing her captive wince as she gets up from the bed and the
brunette leads her to the bathroom by the leash attached to her cunt, Fiona
reassures her. “Don’t worry, cupcake… We’ll get you
straightened out as soon as you get done doing your business. I’ve got your
breakfast all ready for you…” she says, pointing to the silver tray already
laid out on the bedside table with its array of shining syringes and little
vials. “Now hurry up… it’s getting late already.”
Clad in
nothing but her somewhat loosened white patent corset, the strung-out blonde
squats gratefully on the toilet, sighing in relief as the long stream of her
urine splashes into the bowl, her Mistress standing over her holding up the
leash connected to her ringed little clit so it doesn’t get wet. Alison reaches
for the toilet tissue to wipe herself with her cuffed hands, struggling
awkwardly as she gingerly brings the wad of paper up between her ringed inner
labia. She can feel the implacable coldness of the silver circlets against her
fingers. This is the first time since she has been pierced that she has been
able to touch them, and it sends a shiver down her spine to be reminded of
their penetrating presence, reawakening feelings of fearful submission and
childlike dependence.
“Come
along, Alison…” Fiona demands, tugging slightly on the leash, drawing a little
squeak from her captive and sending a jolt of pain through the girl’s skewered
clit, which hardens and rises involuntarily in response… “
It’s time for your morning eye-opener.” Quickly, the enslaved young miss
rises from the commode, flushing it and following docily behind as her mistress
leads her by the leash back into the bedroom for her injections. Where will she
get it this time? In the tits? In
her pussy? Up the ass? The cute blonde shudders
in apprehension, but still looks forward to the relief and soothing sensual
rush that she knows the needles will bring. Whatever has been planned for her
is going to happen anyway… at least the drugs will help her to bear it, perhaps
even find pleasure in it…
Fiona
leads Alison back to her frilly four-poster bed, ordering the blonde to lie
down on her back and unclipping the leash from the ring at the top of her
girlish shaved slit. “Are you gonna hold still for this or do I have to
restrain you?” the brunette asks as she reaches over to take up the first of
the syringes she has filled. Alison lies there squirming in mounting anxiety as
she eyes the gleaming hypodermic… “You… You better tie me, Mistress…” the
Innocent-faced young woman admits, voluntarily holding her hands up over her
head for Fiona to fasten them to the ring in the headboard. “It’s just easier
that way, if I’m, you know, helpless… I’m not sure if I could control myself,
otherwise.” Fiona smirks to herself, pleased with her little trainee’s fawning
and submissive cooperation. So she needs to be tied and she knows it. That’s
cute… real cute. Should make a poignant moment on the video.
Putting
down the syringe for the moment, the brunette reaches over into the chest of
bondage gear for some black leather ankle cuffs, buckling them tightly around
Alison’s slender bare legs. She fastens the girl’s crossed wrists to the center
of the headboard, pulling her body down on the bed so that they are stretched
tightly above her. Then she takes first one ankle and then the other, bending
the breathless blonde’s knees back on either side and opening her legs to
fasten the girl’s ankles by
chains to the posts at the upper corners of the bed, pulling her
roommate’s hairless and ringed crotch open wide and forcing her weight back
onto the small of her back so that her hips are raised as if for fucking. Once
more, Alison finds herself tied and helpless, flat on her back with her pussy
and asshole exposed, awaiting the probe of her Mistress’ penetrating needles.
She bites her lip and closes her eyes, whimpering slightly, knowing what’s
coming.
CHAPTER TWO
Alison’s
hands pull at the cuffs that fasten them up there over her head, suddenly
excited by her helplessness. She looks down over her own pale and hairless
body, squirming slightly in anxiety, gasping as Fiona snaps on a pair of rubber
gloves reaches down to separate her suddenly moistening inner labia, pulling
them gently apart by the little rings that pierce them, opening her up down
there… “You know what I’m going to do with this, don’t you, sweetie…” her
mistress enquires meanly, a sinister glitter in her eyes as she holds the first
syringe with its two-inch needle up so the bound blonde can see it clearly.
“Y…Yes,
Mistress…” the blonde submissive whispers, her eyes wide with fear and a
strange excitement… its scary to have to submit to these injections, but it
feels soooo good afterwards, especially in her hot little cunt and ass… “You’re
going to give it to me right there… there in my pussy or maybe you know in the
back…” “Good guess, cutie…” Fiona confirms as she brings the gleaming chrome
lance up beneath the hood of her roommate’s clit, lightly stabbing at the tender
and rapidly hardening little bud of flesh with the razor-sharp point of the
thing as she pulls up on the ring attached to the bottom of the blonde’s
vertical hood piercing with her other hand, keeping her captive panting in
suspense…
“UNNGGGHHH!!!” Alison cries out shrilly as her catsuited keeper deftly
drives an inch of the chrome-moly needle up into her clitoral shaft, up in and behind the silver
bar that pierces her. The helpless blonde grits her teeth as tears form at the
corners of her eyes with the sudden stinging penetration of her most delicate
and sensitive area. She feels the cooling rush as the solution starts to flow from the tip of the needle, a
slight pressure building inside her flesh Fiona squeezes a few ccs of the
powerful solution within her, a dreamy warmth spreading in her belly and
starting to creep up her spine… After a few moments it no longer hurts, the
piercing pain of the needle fading to a sensation of fullness. Her now drugged
membranes cling to the shaft of the gleaming hypo as it begins to dug deeper,
deeper, a quarter of an inch at a time. Alison moans and thrashes her head
around as it seeks out new and still sensitive spots within her, filling her
feminine nerve center with paralyzingly powerful liquid ecstasy. Alison oohs
and ahhs as her whole lower belly begins to tingle and pulse with a growing
heat that seems to radiate from the point where the nut of the needle now
presses firmly against her pierced clit. The whole two inches of needle is now
buried inside her hot wet cunt, her rings no longer hurting her but rather
throbbing pleasurably within her narcotized flesh.
“Yeah…
you’re digging it now, aren’t you, Alison, you sick little needle freak…?”
Fiona taunts her sadistically. “You like to feel that hypo in your hot little
twat, don’t you…?” “Y…Yes, Mistress…” the increasingly stoned-out blonde admits
dreamily, her head swimming as she floats away on a tide of narcotic bliss… “I…
I do… I can’t help it. It just makes me want to come and come… makes me want a
great big dick to fill me up… fill me up…”
“I know
what you mean…” comments Fiona, finally pulling the now empty hypodermic away
from her captive’s soft shaved slit. “Keep that thought in mind while I turn
you over… this is going to have to go up your ass…” she says menacingly,
referring to the second 10cc syringe with its glittering three-inch needle.
Alison can see it clearly out of the corner of her eye, lying there on the
silver tray on her bedside table beneath the frilly shaded lamp. The brunette turns her over on the bed and
prods the now spaced-out submissive into position with her ass up and her head
down as if waiting to be mounted. “B…But Mistress… it’s so loooong…” the
corseted blonde protests in a babyish little voice, secretly excited and yet
terrified at the thought, knowing that in any case she is going to have to take
its steely length, right now, way up inside her hot slippery bowels, which are
already spasmodically twitching in helpless and delicious anticipation. In
truth, Alison is beginning to find these deeply probing anal injections as
exciting as a good ass fucking. The terror which turns her limbs to jelly just
seems to heighten her arousal until she is quivering like a bowstring. “P… Please, Mistress… don’t make it hurt tooo
much,..,” she implores feebly, feeling
totally vulnerable and exposed with her well-fucked and still slightly swollen
rectum up in the air behind her and her anxiously twisting hands still cuffed
to the headboard. Fiona works a dollop of clear lube into the blonde’s
quivering rear entrance, eliciting a sharp squeak of surprise from the trussed
up slave girl as the rubber gloved fingers penetrate and open her…
“How much
is too much, darling?” Fiona asks her rhetorically as she picks up the shining
glass and steel instrument and bends over the defenseless blonde’s luridly
upthrust tush. Alison buries her head in the pillow, biting it between her
teeth as she feels the scrape of the needle at her tender anal entrance, her
whole body trembling and faint with fear. Her inner bowels are fluttering like
mad, forcing out a bubble of gas with a fruity farting sound. “I’ll overlook
that little outburst… I’m sure it was purely involuntary…” the brunette
announces matter-of-factly.
“Ohhh
Godddd…” Alison moans as she feels the first inch of cold steel penetrate her,
piercing easily through the delicate pink membranes of her rectum into the soft
flesh inside. Instantly the blonde feels a glowing gushy feeling starting to
spread up inside her ass as Fiona starts to work the needle around inside her,
emptying a few ccs right there at the entrance to her hot ass channel and
easing the stabbing pain of the needle until it is a dull pleasant throb.
“Ohhhhhh… OOOOOHHHH…” the sweet little slave slut moans as her mistress digs
deeper, reaching down into her bowels to spread more and more tingling liquid
warmth up inside her adorable tush. It hurts when the needle penetrates into
new and untouched territory, but it feels sooo good
when the drugs flow into her there, so high up inside her ass… Steadily, bit by
bit the dark haired dominatrix works more and more of the fat hypodermic up
into Alison’s spasmodically fluttering asshole.
Alison’s
whole being is concentrated right there at the surgically sharp point of the
needle as another couple of ccs of the
soothing and wickedly exciting solution flow into the depths of her
seethingly receptive anal interior, all other thoughts or feelings driven
completely from her mind. She moans and babbles incoherently, her eyes closed
and her mouth hanging open as a puddle of drool spreads on the pillow beneath
her face. By the time Fiona is done, the slick glass body of the syringe is
buried to the hilt in Alison’s hot ass hole and the three inch needle is deep
up in her bowels somewhere. This deep inside, the bloodstream
carries the drugs almost directly to the brain, hitting her in a dizzying rush.
The symbolism of being ass-fucked by the fat glass syringe somehow makes the
experience doubly poignant for the gasping slave girl. Her
violated and drug-injected sphincters flutter adoringly around the glassy
barrel of the syringe as her mistress slowly empties the last few ccs way up
high in her ass. So deep… so deep…
At this
point, the lovely blonde has been transformed into a pretty much completely
docile zombie, without a thought in her head, floating somewhere up above cloud
nine. “There now… don’t you feel better?” Fiona asks her as she finally and
carefully withdraws the three inch needle from its spot deep inside Alison’s
quivering ass channel and sets the syringe down on the familiar silver tray.
“Yess, Mistresss…” the zoned-out slave girl replies, not sure if she even
understands the question. A growing
blossoming thrill of hot gushy cunty excitement fills her belly and rushes up
and down her spine, making her gasp in delight and wonder as her pierced clit
throbs sympathetically. Fiona’s voice seems to come from a million miles away,
echoing hollowly in her ears through the dizzying rush that sweeps her away,
totally obliterating her mind. It doesn’t matter. She will not be required to
think too much.
Fiona
leaves her there, allowing her to turn back over onto her back and relax for a
few minutes as her mistress puts away her drug paraphernalia. By the time the
stacked little brunette has come back to unfasten Alison’s hands and get her
up, her head has cleared a little, although she is still flushed with arousal
and kind of spaced-out. Disappointed that she has to come back to earth, the
blonde pouts as she is released from her bondage to the four-poster bed but her
hands remain cuffed in front of her as she is once more leashed and led rather
unsteadily towards the kitchen. Fiona sits her down at a stool in the breakfast
nook and once more turns her attention to warming up some of the nutrient gruel
that has become the staple item in Alison’s diet. Alison stares at the bowl of
gloop in front of her without interest but accepts a cup of coffee with
gratitude. She sips it slowly, her whole body still thrumming with the effects
of the injections she has absorbed, squirming her hot wet cunt restlessly on the
vinyl stool beneath her. Fiona observes this with some amusement… “Take it
easy, there, hot pants… you’ll get all the action you can handle before too
long. Meanwhile you’d better eat that…” Fiona commands, pointing to the bowl of
oatmeal-like stuff that is cooling on the counter before her. “Don’t make me
have to feed it to you…”
Remembering
the humiliating experience of being force-fed from yesterday, the shapely young
blonde quickly starts shoveling the sweet-tasting but rather bland mush down,
emptying her bowl. The little rings on the ends of her super-long and polished
pinkie nails jingle faintly with the movements of her hands, making her
conscious once again of the penetrating presence of the rings in her cunt and
nipples. Its difficult to even hold a coffee cup or a
spoon with these bright pink decorative extensions on the ends of her fingers
and she feels a little clumsy… it will take some getting used to. “Your body
needs nourishment, too… not just drugs…” Fiona points out.
“We have to keep your strength up. You have a busy day ahead. There’s enough
calories and protein in that slop to keep you going until dinner time. Now
hurry up and finish your coffee… it’s time to get you cleaned up….”
Moments
later Fiona is leading her still dreamily compliant captive off to the bathroom
once more, stripping off the blonde’s corset as she fills the tub with bubble bath.
As usual, she bathes and shampoos Alison herself, keeping the naked young woman
cuffed and collared all the while. She carefully cleans the blonde’s nipples
and slit, rubbing a small amount of ointment into the punctures and making sure
that the inner skin is not adhering to the silver piercings that glitter in her
soft pink flesh.
The blonde’s shapely backside is still bruised and welted from the previous
night’s whipping, and even Fiona’s gentle soaping makes her wince. A thorough
douche and enema are next on the agenda, the sweet looking blonde squirming in
humiliation as this degrading ritual is repeated yet again. Finally, when she
is thoroughly cleaned both inside and out, her black-suited mistress leads her
by the leash back to the bed room to get her dressed and made up for the day’s
activities. Fiona stops the squeaky-clean blonde in the doorframe, chaining her cuffed
hands to the ring high up above her head and hoisting her up, stretching her
tight for lacing. The girl hangs limply from her wrists, her toes barely
grazing the floor as Fiona rummages through the dresser and closet, which have
been totally restocked with a bewildering assortment of bizarre and provocative
outfits, lingerie and accessories. Black and hot pink will be the colors of the
day, the brunette announces… Something to match the new tattoo Spider is going
to mark her with.
Alison
shudders inwardly, thinking of the creepy-looking greasy biker once more laying
his hands upon her, remembering the design of crossed whips that she saw last
night adorning the slave/hostess Andrea’s shaved white mound directly above her
multiply-ringed cunt. She knows that she too will soon be stamped indelibly as
a whore with this mark of slavery and sexual submission. The thought both
excites and distresses her. She knows it is going to hurt and that her mistress
is enjoying reminding
her of it… keeping her scared and giving her something to worry about. Alison
hangs there naked and barefoot, a towel wrapped around her wet hair, her arms
tightly stretched above her head as she waits patiently for her mistress to lay
out her clothing, if you could call it that, and dress her. In spite of the
coil of fear that flutters in her belly, she still feels weak and dreamy, the
rings in her drugged tits and cunt pulsating and aching pleasurably within her,
making her perky pierced nipples and skewered clit involuntarily harden and
rise as if begging for attention, a gushy creamy feeling suffusing her feminine
interior where her Mistress’ needles have done their work inside her. A sudden
hot rush runs through her, making her momentarily weak in the knees, her
girlish cunt getting hot and moist as she unconsciously readies herself for
another day of sexual servitude.
Meanwhile,
Fiona has selected a bizarre assembly of items for Alison to wear, laying it
all out on the bed for the girl to see. It’s all rubber today… or should we say
latex… starting with a heavy-duty black latex corset-slip, severely
wasp-waisted and heavily boned with steel rods inside and lacing up the back.
The low-cut bra cups are trimmed in shocking pink lace, as is the bottom edge
which is cut high enough so as not to impede Spider in his work, and a
voluminous short pink ruffled skirt more or less like a tutu is attached at the
waist. Eight thin garter straps hang down underneath. Hot pink plug-panties of
thin stretchy translucent rubber lie next to the corset on the bed. They are
fitted to be extremely tight and are equipped with two dildos of smooth and
flexible pink latex, easily an inch and a half thick and nine inches long,
already lubed for insertion. A small clip is mounted on the inside of the
crotch of the panties to interlock with the ring embedded in Alison’s clit.
This will serve both to help hold the garment in place and to provide some
additional stimulation, as if any were needed. Next to these items on the white
satin bedspread are extra-long bright pink stockings of the same material as
the panties, stretchy and clinging, and calf-high black latex boots with narrow
pointy toes, six inch stiletto heels and laces all the way up the front. A
detachable inch-wide cruppering strap of the same heavy black rubber is
available to be fastened over the panties and cinched up to buckles at the
front and back of the corset. Black latex fingerless gloves, shoulder-length,
with a frill of pink lace at the top complete the ensemble, which fairly
screams out FUCK ME in flaming letters a foot high. Alison might as well carry
a sign that says “Come and get it, boys…”
Fiona
strolls over to her with an atomizer in hand, spraying the helplessly handing
blonde liberally with the cunty-scented perfume, kicking her ankles apart to
squirt the stuff up into her crotch and ass, going over her body two, three
times until her eyes are practically watering with the reek of it. It burns and
stings as it dries on her sensitive shaved sex flesh, making the enslaved young
woman squirm uncomfortably. `The whole room now smells of fresh flowers and hot
pussy. Meanwhile the brunette has opened a can of talc and briskly starts
spreading a thin layer of the stuff all over Alison’s body from the neck down.
The sensation is soothing and not unpleasant and makes her feel smooth and
slippery all over. The cuffed blonde sighs and closes her eyes contentedly as
her body is powdered, squirming in arousal and twisting her hands around in her
cuffs pinned there up over her head as her mistress rubs the slippery powder
over her tits, over her sweet little shaved mound and up in the crack of her
shapely ass, working her way down to the girls small tapering feet. “The powder will help keep the latex from
sticking to your skin… otherwise I don’t know if I could get you into this
stuff, it’s so tight…” Fiona explains.
Of course
the panties have to come first. Fiona approaches her with this fetishistic
garment in hand, bending over to get the blonde to step her feet through the
leg holes. She draws them up over the blonde’s legs with the crotch part
uppermost until they are stretched around the tops of her thighs, the twin
dildos flopping around in the air. Alison whines and whimpers. In spite of the
fact that she is still quite stimulated, she doesn’t want to have to wear this
humiliating contraption. As Fiona brings the first of the rubbery plugs up to
her hairless slit she attempts to squirm away, earning a sharp warning glance
from her mistress. Would she prefer it if Fiona called one or
two of Slate’s goon squad to help? They are still on call 24/7. Alison
sighs in resignation and allows the pink rubbery thing to slip inside her hot
slippery twat, shifting her hips slightly to make room inside herself for this
phallic intruder. Her eyes widen and her nostrils flare as her clit is fastened
to the little clip inside the crotch, holding things firmly in place. With this
constant slight tugging and stretching on her clit there will be no peace for
her.
Her
mistress steps around behind her to insert the other plug up her tight pink
rectum. In spite of the fact that she is now doing her best to cooperate she is
involuntarily tense and contracted. Fiona is obliged to force it in there. No
problem. She enjoys it when they resist a little. Alison grunts and whinnies,
her forehead wrinkling in concentration. “That’s it, honey…” Fiona advises her…
“Push back against it… it will go in easier that way…” The helpless blonde does
as she has been told, relaxing her rounded buttocks and pushing down with her
bowels as best she can to admit the nine-inch rubber dingus until it is buried
to the hilt in her drugged out and responsively spasming ass channel. In spite of her mental reservations, she is
unable to keep from moaning as her pussy and asshole start working on the twin
plugs impaling her, squeezing and pulsing around them involuntarily. This was
what she dreaded. With these things in her she will not be able to control
herself. “Oh… you changed your mind now, huh?” her mistress teases her as she
pulls the thin, stretchy and extremely tight pink rubber panties up over the
girl’s hips, tugging the double-thick elastic waistband up as high as she can
get it around the girl’s waist and releasing it with a snap. The clinging pink
rubber is now stretched quite tightly over the blonde’s butt and lower belly,
forcing the two dildos deeper into her sex holes and making Alison gasp.
“These
are the only kind of panties you’ll be allowed to wear from now on…” Fiona
instructs her… “You’d better get used to them…” The thin translucent rubber
clings to her like a second skin, revealing every nook and cranny of her body
underneath, and it certainly feels strange against the nakedly hairless and powdered flesh of
her cunt and ass. Her ringed clit is stretched upwards and held there throbbing
at attention by the little clip inside the high-cut rubber briefs, the narrow
band of the crotch pulled up tightly into her doubly-plugged crack. “Yes,
Mistress…” the bound and drugged babe mumbles in nervous embarrassment as a
knot of anxious desire starts coiling in her belly, sending a hot jolt of
sexual electricity from her imprisoned clit up to her brain and back down
again. “… But it’s so… overwhelming… I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep from
coming if you keep me all stuffed up like this…”
“You do
and you’ll be punished…” Fiona warns her. “You know you’re not allowed to come
without permission.” In fact, knowing that she will be punished for it will
only make it more difficult for the girl to control herself and Fiona knows
this. It is amusing to shame the girl by making her come more or less against
her will. The brunette smirks to herself as she picks up the heavy black
corset-slip and wraps it around her captive’s slender torso, fastening the
hook-and-eye closures in the front. Unlike the panties, there’s no stretch at
all in this thick shiny black latex garment. “Now take a deep breath, I’m going
to start lacing you up…” the brunette commands. Obediently, Alison fills her
lungs with air, sucking in her stomach as her dark-haired keeper takes the
laces of the corset in hand and draws them tight… tighter… tighter… cinching in
the young blonde’s waistline relentlessly, compressing it in an iron grip.
“Ohhh… Oooohhhh… Please, Mistress, not so tight… Ohhh noooo…” the helpless
blonde begs breathlessly. The stiff steel stays of the waist-cincher
constricting her middle force her ribcage up to make her ringed and upthrust
breasts more prominent and cause her equine buttocks to jut out saucily from
beneath the frou-frou of the little skirt as her body is molded implacably into
the desired hourglass silhouette.
Fiona
works her way up and down the long line of close-set eyelets mounted in the
steel backbone of the extremely severe corset, making them meet from top to
bottom in an unbroken line, reducing the gasping blonde’s waist to a mere
sixteen inches, her body taking on an exaggerated wasplike configuration inside
the rigidly constricting carapace that threatens to squeeze the breath out of
her and holds her whole body from chest to hips as stiff as a board. Alison
pants shallowly, hyperventilating in an effort to draw enough oxygen into her
lungs. She feels faint and lightheaded, her pulse
ringing in her ears as her body slowly begins to adjust to its hard shell of
rubber and steel. Gradually the roar of blood in her head subsides, leaving her
limp and weak-kneed as she hangs there in the doorway passively awaiting further
developments.
So
overwhelmed is she by the sensation of being squeezed as if by a giant fist
that she barely notices as Fiona carefully rolls the bright pink rubber
stockings over her bright painted toes and up her legs, stretching them tight
as she goes rather like rolling a condom up over a hard dick, and fastens them
firmly to the eight the tops of the dangling slave girl’s thighs. Shaking some
more of the talcum powder into the insides of the pointy-toed and very
high-heeled black latex boots, which have been unlaced all the way down to the
ankle, she gets the tightly-corseted slave girl to step into them, pushing her
heels down into the rigidly steel-reinforced last to encase them firmly within.
It’s a tight squeeze, even for Alison’s slender and smallish feet, and her toes
are cramped together mercilessly by the sharply tapering points at the tips of
the boots. Once she’s got the shoe part of the boot on, Fiona goes to work on
the laces, pulling them as tight as a pair of ice skates all the way up the
girl’s shins, finally tying them at the back with a double knot. Alison’s feet
and ankles are now locked pretty much rigidly in place, all of her weight now
resting uneasily on the balls of her highly-arched feet, which are held en
pointe as it were by the unbending steel sole of the boot, forcing the girl to
stand on tip-toes. Alison shifts her weight uncomfortably from one leg to the
other but this just causes the plugs in her pussy and ass to jiggle around as
she hangs there helplessly. “Ohhh Mistress… I don’t know how I’m going to be
able to walk in these things…” she protests feebly. “Don’t worry, sweetie… we
won’t be running any marathons…” Fiona replies dismissively. “You’ll get used
to it…” Indeed she has little choice.
All that
remains is to fasten the black rubber crotch strap of the corset up into
Alison’s crack. Fiona fastens one end of the inch-wide belt to the buckle at
the back of the corset just above the little triangle where her ass cheeks
divide and lets it hang down there. Walking around to the front of her dangling
captive she reaches between her legs to pull the strap up into her
rubber-covered crotch and thread it through the buckle at the front of the
corset. Alison becomes alarmed when she finally realizes the purpose of this instrument
and starts babbling and moving her hips around in an effort to get away from it
but all that ends instantly when Fiona savagely jerks on the end of the strap,
forcing it hard up into the captive blonde’s pussy and asscrack and spreading
her robber-covered labia around it. She buckles it as tightly as she is able.
‘OOOOOOHHHHH… AAAAAAAHHHHH…” The helpless blonde gasps as the twin torpedoes
are forced even harder into her clutching sex holes, the tight cruppering strap
exerting a relentless pressure on her upstanding little clit where it is
clipped to the rubber panties, making it twitch and jump with mingled pain and
arousal. “There now…” Fiona remarks with satisfaction… “How’s that feel?”
“OHHH
GODDD…” The submissive former secretary moans, completely at a loss for words.
More than anything she feels totally dominated, totally controlled, and in
spite of being highly uncomfortable her sluttish little pussy is creaming and
squishing around the fat phallic intruders that fill her fore and aft. “I take that
to mean that you find this exciting…” Fiona comments sarcastically… don’t you
you little whore?” “Y…Yess, Mistressss…” the squirming and gasping sex slave
hesitantly admits. Her captor knows her too well… in fact she is on the verge
of coming already. ‘V…V…Very exciting…”
“You’re a
live one, all right…” Fiona remarks, picking up the black rubber
shoulder-length fingerless gloves, decorated with pink lace at the tops of the
arms and along the V shape at the back of the hand. She reaches up to unfasten
one of Alison’s delicate wrists from the cuffs that hold them high over her
head, unlocking it with a tiny key and leaving the other hand fastened to the
doorframe as she rolls the tight black rubber glove up over the submissive
blonde’s girlishly slender arm, keeping a firm hold on her captive at all
times. Not that she needs to… Alison is too far gone already to make any
struggle or protest as her mistress takes her now blackly-gloved hand and
replaces the cuff taken off her with a black one of identical design, snapping
the steel-reinforced and slightly padded shackle tightly around her captive’s
wrist over the glove with an audible click as the ratchet locks. The
dark-haired bitch then refastens that hand to the doorframe and repeats this
process on her other arm, and exchanges the white pearl choker collar around
the blonde’s neck for a similar one with
black obsidian beads and a black cameo with the same design of crossed whips at
the center.
At last
Alison is completely dressed, although outfitted might be a better term,
needing only to get her make-up and hair done to be ready to assume her role
and entertain whatever guests may be arriving. As usual, Fiona releases the
lovely blonde’s hands from up over her head, refastening them behind her back
before sitting her down on the bench before the makeup table, clipping her
wrist cuffs to a ring in the frame of the bench behind her so she cannot get up
again. In the shape Alison is in all this control is not strictly necessary but
Slate has instructed her to see to it that the blonde is kept in bondage at all
times. In fact the tightly-laced blonde can barely move at all, walking
stiff-legged and teetering on the insanely high heels of her boots, forced to
sit up stiffly at attention by the constriction of the rigid corset-slip
encasing her body. Fiona walks over to her with the CO2-powered earring gun,
loading some small black crystal studs into the chamber.
“Hold
still, now, honey…” the brunette commands, taking one of Alison’s delicate
translucent ears between her fingers and lining up the piercing device
carefully. POW!… POW!… POW!… POW!… Soon four new studs have
been driven through the cartilage at the outer edge of the blonde’s upper ears,
bringing the total of piercings in each ear to nine, running up the earlobes
and arranged in a semi-circle around the circumference of the ear just inside
the fold. Fiona proceeds to fill these holes with a series of larger and larger
studs as she works her way down, changing over to larger hanging or dangling earrings
as she reaches the last three holes punctured in the blonde’s earlobes. The
bottom set is of silver, hung with many black crystal beads, looking almost
like a miniature chandelier as it dangles down to her shoulder, heavy enough to
drag her earlobe down slightly with it. The one next to it is identical but
smaller, perhaps three inches in length, and the one above it a one inch chain
set with similar beads. The earrings tinkle like doorchimes every time Alison
moves her head. Unlike her nipples and pussy, which had been numbed by
injections when they were pierced, the two new holes in each ear burn and
sting, bringing tears to her eyes that slowly roll down her cheek and which she
can’t wipe away because of her cuffed hands. That’s why Fiona did this before
applying her makeup. Alison shivers inwardly, remembering that she may still be
pierced again in other areas. Slate certainly seemed to be intrigued by what
had been done to Andrea, the hostess at the Caligula Club, and she fears he has
made similar plans for her…perhaps even today…
Momentarily
lost in these ruminations, she sits silently as Fiona deftly dabs her tears
with a tissue and starts applying her makeup. The brunette is going for a more
dramatic and less innocent effect this time to go with the bizarrely
provocative black and pink get-up her captive is wearing. Heavy eyeshadow
fading from blue-grey to black, black eyeliner and mascara, her cheekbones
sharply delineated and a darker shade of glossy magenta lipstick exaggerate the
pouting fullness of her lips against a starkly white foundation that gives her
a sort of haunted and whorishly sensual look… a far cry from the sweet and
innocent victim of yesterday. She looks like a bad girl for sure… a bad girl
who can’t wait to be punished in her outlandishly kinky rubber outfit. No doubt
this is just what Fiona had in mind, making it glaringly obvious that she’s a
slave to the whip… to the needle…
Now that
Alison’s earrings and makeup are done, her black-clad mistress goes to work on
her hair, unwrapping the towel/turban from around her
head and combing out her slightly wavy ash-blonde tresses. The brunette decides
to put her hair up for a change today, combing it back from her face and
gathering it tightly in a ponytail at the back of her head with a thick black
rubber band which she wraps around there four or five times to hold it
securely. The immobilized blonde feels the skin of her forehead and temples
being drawn back tightly by the pull on her scalp. Once this is done, Fiona
patiently weaves her captive’s silky locks into a single long braid, fixing
another rubber band to the end to keep it from unraveling. She then twists the
whole thing around onto the back of her head in a French Knot,
fastening it in place with bobby pins. She then inserts a hair clip with a big
fluffy black crepe bow mounted on it through the knot and locks it into place.
Poor Alison feels as though even her hair is in bondage, so tightly is it
pulled back. Exactly the effect her mistress intended, no doubt…
For all
of that, she does look exquisite and fabulously exotic… a vision to harden the
cock of any male who isn’t certified brain-dead. Once again, Alison is struck
dumb with her own reflection, marveling at the image that confronts her in the
mirror. She can hardly recognize herself. The young woman in the mirror seems
like a creature from another world, an apparition from some sadist’s wet dream.
A shock of heat and shame runs through her as she realizes that yes that’s
really her sitting there, transformed into this wickedly provocative and
sensual-looking being. Her creamy hairless pussy and asshole
milk eagerly on the thick rubbery intruders that fill her hot squirmy insides,
her pierced and clipped clit throbbing with drugged-out and anxious desire
against the tight black rubber strap that runs up between her legs. Her
lips part to reveal two pearly white teeth as she breathes softly through her
open mouth, aching with vulnerability. She realizes that even the gentle and
imploring expression on her face cannot help but inspire fresh acts of sadistic
lust. She looks like she’s ready for action and in truth she is… all she needs
now is a man to fuck her, she thinks to herself in shameful excitement. A big
strong man… a demanding man… a man like Slate…
“You
certainly do look tempting…” Fiona remarks, breaking into the dolled-up
blonde’s train of thought… “Even if I do say so myself.
Spider is going to cream in his jeans when he sees you. Speaking of which, he
should be here any moment now… it’s almost
The
brunette unclips her shackled wrists from the ring at the back of the vanity
bench, leaving them fastened behind her, and forces the blonde to stand up,
holding her firmly by the upper arm to keep her from losing her balance.
Keeping a
firm hold on the captive receptionist, she guides her out into the other room
as the tightly-laced young woman teeters unsteadily on her six-inch heels, the
vibrators buzzing away merrily inside her. She is terrified of falling with her
hands tied behind her back like this. The twin plugs inside her wiggle and
jiggle around with every step and her chafed little clit rubs and pulls against
the cruppering strap that bisects her.
Halfway across the floor she freezes, overcome by a shuddering orgasm as
her overstimulated cunt and asshole seize around the
impaling dildos and her belly heaves. Fiona looks on with annoyance, then
amusement. She knew this was coming… in fact she made it happen. Flicking off the switch that keeps the dildos
buzzing, she takes the still-trembling blonde’s chin in her hand, forcing her
to look into her eyes. “Didn’t I tell you not to come without permission?” she
demands… “Just for that you will be chained to the whipping post while we wait.
Perhaps additional punishments will be in order…“ It matters little to Alison…
she is long past having any control over her body and they both know it. It’s
all just a kind of twisted game…
Fiona leads
the unsteady blonde across what in more innocent times was the living room to
the whipping post at the far end of the room, turning on the spotlight overhead
to bathe the area in brightness. “You can just hang out here for a while…” the
sultry-looking brunette announces offhandedly, fastening Alison by the ring at
the back of her collar to a short chain dangling from a hook overhead on the
pillar. “We’ll just call you Exhibit A…” The severely-corseted and plugged up
blonde is forced to stand there motionless at attention, her hands still tied
behind her and at some risk of choking herself if she even tries to move. She
tries to lean back against the post and take some of the weight off her
painfully-constricted toes. “No, No… this will never do… You must stand up
straight…” Fiona exclaims. “Perhaps a little elbow-binding is in order… It’s
simply amazing what it can do for a girl’s posture…”
Alison
hangs there helplessly, her stomach tightening in dread as Fiona walks back
into the bedroom and rummages around for a minute. She returns in a minute with
a pair of wide black leather cuffs in her hand. Turning the rubber-gloved
blonde around so that she is facing the black pillar, she buckles one of the
cuffs tightly around each of her elbows over the gloves. She then threads a
black leather cord through the D rings mounted opposite the buckles on the
cuffs, turning them inward so that they face each other and looping it through
a couple of times. Relentlessly, she pulls on the ends of the cord, forcing Alison’s
elbows together behind her back until the two rings meet and then tying it off
securely with a double knot that will not slip. The lovely sex slave’s
shoulders are pulled down and back severely, her shoulder blades scrunched
together by the inward pressure of her bound elbows.
“OHHH,
MISTRESS… PLEASE… NOT SO TIGHT…” the defenseless blonde pleads forlornly,
already quite uncomfortable after only a few seconds. Fiona turns her back
around. “Shut up, Alison…” her mistress commands, putting a finger to her
roommate’s lips to silence her. “You’re going to stay like this until Spider is
done piercing your tits… One more word from you and I’ll take my quirt to them
first. Would you like that?” Fiona asks, reaching up with her hand to toy with
the rings already piercing the blonde’s tender pink nipples, pulling and
tugging on them just hard enough to make the slave girl gasp. “N… No, Mistress…
Please, Mistress… I’ll be good… I’ll be good…” the terrified young woman
babbles before lapsing into cowed silence. In fact, the binding of her elbows
does cause her lusciously rounded tits to thrust themselves forward with
insouciant boldness, their size and prominence exaggerated by the narrowness of
her backward and down-pulled shoulders. Alison twists and wiggles her arms and
hands helplessly, biting her lip in frustration, but there’s no escaping their
implacable grip. She is just going to have to stay like this until somebody
sets her free.
Far from setting her free, Fiona proceeds to
strap her tightly to the whipping post. After all she doesn’t want the girl to
lose her balance and accidentally strangle herself. By the time she is done,
wide belts hold her adorable captive tightly to the black pillar that dominates
that end of the room. Her ankles, her legs, her waist and shoulders are all
strapped tightly to the post and she can barely even twitch.
Fiona
walks back over to the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of coffee and sitting
herself down on the couch, smiling to herself as she looks over at the spotlit
girl across the room. It’s good for her to make Alison wait… build up a little
suspense. The minutes drag on, the hands of the wall clock slowly approaching
the vertical as the cuffed and plugged blonde is forced to stand there silently
at the post, growing rapidly more anxious and uncomfortable by the minute as
Fiona sits there watching her and nonchalantly flipping through a fashion
magazine and listening to the radio. It kind of reminds the blonde of sitting
in a dentist’s office and waiting to have your teeth drilled. Then Fiona turns
the vibrators back on….
CHAPTER
THREE
Finally
the doorbell rings. Fiona gets up to answer it and lets Spider in, alone this
time. Alison still stands there tightly belted to the whipping post, her arms
and hands tied behind her back and the twin vibrators humming away in her cunt
and ass. She is in such a delirium of pain and sexual torment at this point
that she barely even notices when the long-haired greasy biker shows up with
his nasty little bag of tricks. Her arms and shoulders ache relentlessly and
the constant stimulation in her nether regions is driving her crazy. She’s
already had several orgasms and can’t seem to catch her breath. Fiona finally
decides to give her a break and turn off the buzz bombs inside her for a
while. When she finally sees and
recognizes Spider a sick feeling of dread overcomes her as she remembers his
hands holding the gleaming piercing needles, thrusting them remorselessly
through her flesh… Now she is certain she will feel them again and it won’t be
long. So she tries to concentrate on the
warm fullness of her plugged loins, the throbbing of her pierced and clipped
little clit, unconsciously pressing herself against the strap that runs up
between her legs, attempting to lose herself again in the dreamy glow of sexual
excitement and submission and forget the fear and the burning in her arms and
shoulders. Somehow she knows the more she keeps herself revved up the easier it
will be to take what’s coming…
Spider’s
eyes glitter with feral intensity as he beholds the trussed-up cutie belted to
the whipping post. “That’s quite a get-up you’ve got her in…” he comments to
Fiona, strolling over to inspect the bound blonde more closely, setting down
his black doctor’s bag. “You’ve outdone yourself today. Where does Slate get
this stuff?” “We have it custom made…” the brunette answers, returning from the
kitchen with a frosty beer for the gaunt-faced tattoo artist. “The Caligula
Club buys in bulk, and passes the discounts on to its members.”
“The
Caligula Club, huh… I think I’ve heard about that.” Spider comments as he steps
up to the quivering slave girl chained and belted to the pillar. He reaches up
with his yellow-stained fingers to fondle the nipple rings that decorate her
dramatically outthrust tits. Alison bites her lip, not saying anything since
she hasn’t been spoken to, steeling herself to keep still as the evil=looking
biker toys with her magnificent breasts. With her hands and elbows tied behind
her like this there’s not much she can do to stop him. “I see that her nipple
rings are healing up nicely…” Spider remarks, finally letting go of them after
giving them one or two experimental tugs, drawing a whimper from the the
corseted and cruppered blond. “No sign of infection… have you been using that
ointment I gave you?” “Every day, boss… every day…” Fiona replies.
The
creepy-looking biker turns back to Alison, his eyes as fierce as an
ayatollah’s. “Tell me, girl… how do they feel?” “T… They still hurt a little…”
Alison replies hesitantly, unsure of how to respond. In truth, the pain is not
nearly as bad as it was two days ago when the piercing was first done. Already
she is becoming accustomed to the rings, the weight and feeling of fullness
always with her, keeping her rosy pink buds constantly stimulated and
super-sensitive to the slightest touch. Sometimes she even thinks she is
beginning to enjoy the sensation. The pain is only really bad when someone
pulls on them deliberately to hurt her. “That’s good…”says Spider. “They’re
supposed to hurt a little. The ones in your cunt may take a little longer, but
you’ll get to like them after a while... You little bitches always do…”
“Yes,
sir…” Alison mumbles, reminded once again of the silver shafts and ringlets
that pierce the delicate membranes of her sweet shaved slit, hidden from view
beneath the clinging pink rubber of her panties. They are once again beginning
to throb and burn within her as the injections she received a few hours earlier
are beginning to wear off. “It’s still kind of sore down there…” the blonde
volunteers quietly. “That’s too bad…” Spider replies without sympathy, “ cause you’re gonna get some more of them today to go with
your new tattoo.” Seeing the stricken look on the young woman’s face as her
worst fears are realized, the white-trash tattoo artist almost bursts out
laughing. “Cheer up, babe… after today it’s all over,
at least for a while. I don’t think I could put any more metal in you if I
wanted to… at least not any place where it would do any good, unless Slate
decides he wants to get your nose done, or maybe your tongue… but I don’t think
he really goes for that.” The suffering blonde’s heart sinks at the idea of
having her septum pierced like some sort of farm animal. But in fact Slate has no
desire to mar the delicate beauty of her face.
Turning
to Fiona, he noisily drains the last of his beer with a loud belch, crushing
the can in his hand and tossing it aside. “Whattaya say let’s get this show on
the road… You got some injections ready for this bitch or are you gonna make
her take it straight?” “Coming right up…” the brunette announces, “You want
some too?” “Nah… that shit’s a whore’s high.” Spider answers… “I brought me
some crank… much better for getting some work done. You oughta try some…”
“Don’t mind if I do…” Fiona replies… “Alison can wait. She’s not going
anywhere. You mind if I flick on the TV? You won’t find it too distracting,
will you?” “Not if the show is anything like the one you had on yesterday,”
Spider says, remembering the tape of Alison’s anal gang bang with Tony, Mickey
and Luis. “It’ll help me get in the mood…”
“It
should be pretty hot…” Fiona explains, “It’s a little movie we plan to call
‘Alison’s Big Debut.” So saying, she slips the tape into the VCR, which
immediately starts displaying a scene of Alison, Slate and herself entering the
Caligula Club the preceding evening. Meanwhile, Spider cooks up a couple of
shots of crystal meth with his old beat-up Zippo. As the drama on the TV
unfolds, he and Fiona take turns tying each other off and mainlining
the powerful stimulants. “Wheeooo… this shit burns,” the brunette comments as
the drug quickly spreads though her veins, hitting her in the head with a bang
that makes her sit right up straight, her eyes shining with unnatural
brightness. Spider, too, seems suddenly filled with a fiendish energy, every
muscle in his skinny wiry body suffused with power. He feels invincible,
invulnerable… savagely determined to act out the twisted sadistic impulses that
coil in his brain like venomous snakes. Oh Christ… Alison thinks to herself as
she hangs there helplessly awaiting her fate… that’s all these two vampires
need.
On the television set across the room, Alison and her two hopped-up tormentors are now treated to a replay of the events at the club last night, starting with the punishment of poor Josephine. Events there are routinely and automatically videotaped by hidden cameras in every room, although the faces of the members are blanked out by electronic means. “That Caligula Club looks like a fun place,” Spider remarks…”What do I have to do to join up?” “I’m afraid it’s a little out of your league…” Fiona replies. “Can you come up with a million bucks? Do you have any political influence?” “Hmmm… You may be right…” the evil-looking tattoo artist admits grudgingly. “I seem to have left my last million in my other pants. So what do you say we get on with the job at hand?” My thoughts exactly…” agrees the brunette bitch as she reaches for her silver tray and starts mixing up a dose of drugs for the silent slave girl who watches in growing apprehension from across the room.
“I want her well-sedated…” Spider instructs… “It won’t do to have her thrashing around while I’m working on her, she might injure herself.” “You got it, tiger…” Fiona replies, filling up a couple of the big 10cc syringes. She approaches the bound girl at the whipping post, carrying her silver tray and setting it down on a little table nearby. Alison’s whole corseted torso is tightly strapped to the shiny black pillar behind her, completely immobilized except for her head. At least it takes some of the tension off her legs, although her elbows and shoulders are cramped and burning from being bound in this unnatural position. The brunette unbelts Alison’s legs from the post and reaches down to unfasten the rubber strap that runs up in her crotch, unbuckling it from the bottom of the corset. The captive blonde sighs in relief as her Mistress pulls it free, then bends down to pull the rubber plug=panties down. Carefully, Fiona unclips the clit ring from the clinging elastic garment and eases the two nine-inch dildos out of her imprisoned roommate’s clutching holes, tugging the panties down her legs and making her step out of them.
Alison watches all this in mounting apprehension, relieved to finally be freed from the uncomfortably tight crotch bondage, but feeling even more defenseless and vulnerable now that her naked and hairless cunt is exposed. It is but the work of a moment for her dark-haired keeper to fasten her high-heeled and rubber-booted ankles into a spreader bar, forcing her legs wide apart and opening up the furrow of her cunt and asscrack. Fiona reaches up to fondle her sweet shaved pussy, insinuating two gloved fingers into her cunt and asshole, still moist with her juices from the stimulation of the phallic intruders she has been wearing for the last hour or so. The brunette slowly slides her finger up inside the blonde’s slit to tickle the underside of her ringed and exquisitely sensitive little joy button, sending a shiver up the girl’s spine that makes her gasp. “MMMMMM…. MMMMMFFF…” Alison moans helplessly as her Mistress’ skillful fingers bring her to arousal once again, only to leave her dangling on the edge as she pulls her hands away. “I think she’s ready for her shots now…” the brunette bitch announces.
On the TV set in the background, Alison and Andrea are fastened in 69 position to the big red velvet cushion, busily lapping each other’s ringed and shaved cunts. The camera pulls in for a closeup of Alison’s face buried in the other girl’s pussy, showing the way in which Andrea’s clitoral shaft has been pierced with a close-set ladder of rings which tend to thrust it forward and make it stand out stiffly at the top of her hairless slit. Her mons has been tattooed in black and magenta with the familiar crossed-whip design and the initials of her master. Another line of five rings pierces the platinum blonde’s inner labia, which glitter in the light as Alison’s tongue can be seen working busily inside.
“I assume what we’re looking at here is more or less what the boss wants done with this bitch…” Spider comments, picking up his black bag and approaching the tightly-bound blonde at the whipping post. “You got it, Spider-man” the brunette answers, “Although you can feel free to make improvements… no sense making them exactly identical.” “Let’s start at the top and work out way down…” the greasy long-haired biker suggests. “Give me about a ten cc hypo for her tits. Fortunately her nipples are quite long and prominent. There’s plenty of room in there for another ring or two, as long as we don’t make them too thick. Maybe one set going horizontally in front of the first, and another vertical one right at the tip…” “Go for it…” Fiona advises… “Slate wants her to be the most well-ringed little slut at the Club…”
“All rightie, then…” the gaunt tattoo artist says briskly, his eyes shining with unnatural excitement as he slips on a pair of rubber surgical gloves and brings the gleaming glass cylinder of the 10cc syringe with its one-inch needle up to Alison’s temptingly outthrust nipples, forced to jut out boldly in front of her by the constriction of her elbows behind her back. The helpless blonde stares down at the approaching needle, her eyes wide with fear, her whole body so tightly immobilized by the straps that hold her to the whipping post that she is unable to even twitch. Fiona, acting the role of nurse-assistant, carefully cleans the area to be injected with a cool and stinging alcohol wipe, bringing her captive’s tingling little pink buds to involuntary erection as the enslaved receptionist whimpers in apprehension. Spider reaches up with his left hand to take one of her nipple rings between his rubber-gloved thumb and forefinger, pulling and stretching her tender pink pap away from her body and making her wince. Her delicious bosom rises and falls rapidly as she pants in fear.
Without further ado he stabs half the length of the needle directly into the center of her stretched-out nipple from underneath, squeezing out a couple of ccs of the narcotizing drug solution right into the base of it just behind where the ring pierces her. To Alison, the stuff feels freezingly cool as it flows into the tender tissues of her bright pink bud, first numbing it and then causing it to throb dully, warmly… A tendril of dreamy narcotic bliss slowly reaches up from the point of the needle to the base of her brain, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and causing her to relax in her bonds, closing her eyes as Spider pulls the needle free to repeat the procedure on the other side of her chest. She doesn’t want to watch any more… better to just let herself drift away on the tide of drugged-out euphoria that wells up within her as she feels the surgically-keen point of Spider’s needle injecting more of the soothing liquid ecstasy into her other luscious breast to spread through her bloodstream. She bites her lip and moans slightly with the piercing pain as the needle works into the nerve center of her tit, her face relaxing and her mouth hanging open as the stuff flows into her. Still, there’s enough stimulant mixed in with the solution to keep her from completely zoning out, and she feels an exciting tingle start to spread through her body as it starts working on her nervous system, sending a sudden hot shock of arousal down to her stiffening little clit that seems to radiate from the point where she is pierced. “UNNNHHHH… OOOHHHH…” she moans helplessly. Maybe this won’t be so bad…
Meanwhile, Spider takes up a second syringe with a longer two-inch needle and returns to her other breast, which is now fairly well anesthetized from the injection he gave her before. Taking her swollen nipple between his thumb and forefinger again, he carefully threads the needle directly into the puckered end of it, stabbing down into the center of her breast, stopping every half inch or so to depress the plunger of the syringe until the entire length of it is buried straight into her and the chrome nut at the base of the needle is pressed tightly against the very tip of her bright pink pap. Alison’s entire nipple and aureole are now pretty much completely desensitized and swollen to twice their normal size from all the liquid injected into them, and her whole breast is filled with glowing warmth so although she feels the pinch and pressure of the needle moving within her there is no more pain… only a relaxed dreamy creamy glow and a tingling nervous excitement that seems to gather in her loins… In a matter of moments the other breast has received similar treatment as Spider empties the last of the second syringe inside her already engorged and ringed tit flesh. By this time Alsion’s head is lolling around on her neck, her eyes glassy and her pink lipsticked mouth hanging open slackly as she enters a sort of sexual never never land where there all thought is obliterated and only sensation remains… “That oughta do it…” the grungy-looking speed freak announces with a smirk… “We’re ready for installation.”
Reaching down into his black doctor’s bag, he lays out a number of items on the white sterile napkin that covers the silver tray. Unwrapping them from their cellophane envelopes, he displays two sets of silver rings, both smaller and thinner than the ones which already pierce the base of the helpless slave girl’s tender nips. The larger set is maybe 3/4 of an inch wide and perhaps an eighteen gauge, the smaller ones only half an inch in diameter and quite thin. He takes a forceps and clamps off the tip of the girl’s nipple past the point where she is already pierced, holding it in his left hand and pulling and stretching it away from her chest. Even through her drug-induced haze, this gets Alison’s attention. The tightly-bound blonde whimpers in apprehension and discomfort, unable to move even a muscle from the neck down.
Relentlessly, with a steady even pressure, he thrusts the three inch long piercing lance horizontally through the flesh of her bright pink bud between the tines of the forceps, about an eighth of an inch in front of the rings already installed there at their base. The flesh on the other side of her nipple stretches, then breaks as the needle pokes through, skewering her. Alison starts sniveling, heartsick with the knowledge of this fresh mutilation, but at this point she knows better than to say anything… they would only gag her. Looking like a refugee from the Manson Family, the greasy haired tattoo artist goes to work on her other tit with fiendish intensity, repeating the whole gruesome process. Tears drip down Alison’s soft cheeks as she cries silently in self-pity, and it’s a good thing she’s wearing waterproof mascara or it would be all over her face. When both of her nipples have been pierced from side to side, Spider releases the forceps and uses it to take up a smaller curved needle like the ones surgeons use to stitch up wounds. Carefully gripping her nipple so that he doesn’t stab himself on the three inch lances already piercing her from side to side, he thrusts the short curved piercing instrument up through the very tip of her grotesquely swollen pink bud from underneath, perhaps an eighth of an inch from the tip and in front of the horizontal piercing he has already made. He then repeats this process on the other side of her bosom. Alison gasps and sobs in her bondage, the veins on her neck popping out, aware even through the narcotic haze that envelops her of the irreparable damage being done to her sensitive sex flesh. Although the ends of her tits are still pretty much completely anesthetized, she feels faint with the trauma and stress which has been inflicted on her body, and sags in her bonds as she sobs in helpless frustration and anguish. Fiona looks on with amused contempt as she absently strokes her hot wet boogie through the crotch of her catsuit. It gets her excited to make the girl cry.
The work of piercing her done, Spider sets about to install the sniveling slave girl’s new rings. First he carefully pulls the needles free from one of her breasts, taking a generous dollop of cauterizing ointment on his rubber-gloved finger and rubbing into the holes he has made to stanch the slight flow of blood that oozes from her wounds. Alison can dimly feel it burning inside her, sealing off the punctures and making them permanent as the creepy-looking tattoo artist does the same thing to her other nipple, waiting a minute or two to give the coagulant time to do its work.
With sure hands born of long experience, the fiendish-looking biker threads the two sets of open-ended silver rings through the holes he has made in the suffering slave girl’s nipples, the larger ones going through her horizontally just in front of the ones already there, the smaller ones piercing her vertically just at the tips of her swollen pink buds, twisting them around this way and that to make sure they move freely within her. He removes a soldering iron from his black bag, one of those new- fangled ones that only gets hot when it comes in contact with metal, and unrolls a short length of silver solder from a spool.
“Now hold very still…” he warns the multiply-pierced blonde as he brings the iron up to the tip of her tits. Alison almost wets herself with the intensity of her fear, holding herself rigid, afraid to even breathe. Deftly, without so much as singeing her, the greasy long-hair solders the rings closed, fixing them within her flesh permanently. The only way to remove them now would be to cut them off with a jeweler’s saw or file.
Spider stands back, putting down his tools and pausing to admire his work. Alison’s nipples are now completely stuffed with metal and swollen to twice their normal size. “These things are going to be pretty sore for the next couple of days…” he warns Fiona. “I’d keep her well sedated for the next couple of days and make sure she doesn’t touch them. She could do some real damage if she tries to rip them out. Tell Slate not to let anybody else mess with them too much either… give ‘em a chance to heal. We don’t want to wind up taking this bitch to the hospital.” “Well, Slate will do what he wants to do…” Fiona comments, “But I’ll certainly pass on the message. You’re the expert, after all…”
“Yeah, yeah… but I don’t think he wants to fuck up his hottest little property, so make sure he knows what I said. Let me have another syringe… it’s time to get to work on her cunt…” the hopped-up tattoo freak says callously, pausing to light a Camel and taking a couple of deep drags. He blows the smoke out in rings, which he punctures with a rubber-gloved finger. “No sense letting them die virgins…” he smiles, revealing a mouthful of crooked yellow teeth. “…And get me another beer while you’re at it. This is thirsty work.” Poor Alison, who has remained silent throughout her ordeal, knowing that to beg for mercy would only bring on a torrent of abuse, finally opens her dry mouth to plead for a little water… please just a little water. “Let her have a few sips…” Spider advises… “Not too much… we don’t want her puking it up on us.” Fiona returns with a can of beer for the man and a glass of ice water with a straw, which she holds up to Alison’s gratefully sucking lips. They all take a breather for a few minutes as Spider sips his beer and finishes smoking his cigarette, grinding it out in the ashtray before changing his slightly blood-spattered gloves for a fresh and sterile new pair. He snaps them on with evident relish as Fiona hands him a new 10cc syringe, filled to the brim with clear liquid hypnotic-stimulant solution.
Alison stares down the length of her body, shivering in apprehension and unable to tear her eyes away as her gaunt and sallow-faced tormentor brings the two inch needle up to her nakedly hairless slit, held gaping open by the spreader bar between her legs. With her waist tightly strapped to the whipping post behind her, she is powerless to even wiggle. She winces and grits her teeth as the lance thrusts home deep into the center of her clitoral nerve shaft, driving up and in from underneath, behind the shaft that pierces her. Spider squeezes out a couple of ccs right there, just where the bundle of nerves and cartilage disappears into her belly, pausing for a moment to let it take effect. Soon the familiar warm tingling is suffusing the upper part of her cunt, easing the pain of the piercing needle within her and spreading a dreamy relaxed glow through her bloodstream and up into her terrified and stressed-out brain, making her sigh involuntarily with relief as her faithless body surrenders itself to the influence of the drugs and the probing lance starts to move within her flesh, seeking out new and as yet untouched areas to penetrate and filling them with soothing and stimulating liquid heat, pulling back and stabbing repeatedly back in again from a different angle until she feels like she’s spinning off into outer space, barely feeling the point of the glittering steel shaft that pierces her to the hilt.
Spider takes his time, injecting a little bit here, a little bit there, spreading the stuff around inside her and giving it time to take effect. Finally he pulls the empty glass cylinder from the top of her slit only after five minutes or so of probing around, when he’s sure that she is totally whacked-out and desensitized down there except for a rather pleasant throbbing tingle. Once again, Alison’s head is lolling around on her neck, her eyes closed and her mouth open as she slips off into a dreamy cunty never-never land, beyond fear or pain but still alive to pleasure and desire.
Now that he’s got her where he wants her, the white-trash tattoo artist is ready to get to work on her sweet shaved pussy with his gleaming piercing tools, which Fiona has carefully laid out on the tray beside him. Taking a pair of forceps between his rubber-gloved fingers, he fastens it onto the hooded shaft of the bound blonde’s clitoris over the shaft that pierces it, locking the tines closed and pulling it out from between the folds of her outer labia there at the top of her slit. With another pair of forceps he takes one of the curved needles similar to the one he used to pierce the tips of her nipples and thrusts it through the shaft of her sexual nerve center behind the vertical shaft that already pierces her, working it back and forth a few times to open up the hole. Leaving the needle in place, he repeats the process a quarter of an inch higher up on the hood, relocking the forceps to hold the shaft of her feminine erection securely and pull it away from her body. Three more times he skewers her, a little higher up each time, until he gets to the point where the fold of flesh merges into her soft mound. A row of five gleaming steel needles now pierces through the hood of Alison’s clit, penetrating through the bundle of nerves and cartilage that lies inside it and tending to force it up and out, raising it to added prominence by the pressure of all the steel within. “With her clit pierced like this it will always be exposed and super-sensitive…” Spider comments to Fiona, who is looking over his shoulder and acting as sort of a surgical assistant, her dark eyes gleaming with unnatural intensity. “Should make her even more responsive… not that she needs it,” the ghoulish biker adds cynically.
Alison stands there rigid and transfixed, her entire consciousness focused on the row of needles that skewer the entire length of her throbbing clitoral shaft from top to bottom, making it pound in time with her pulse, ending in the thicker vertical shaft with its attached ring that dangles right at the top of the opening of her slit. Unfastening the forceps that hold her little fold of flesh, Spider removes the needles one by one, rubbing coagulant jelly into the punctures as he had done before to seal them up and keep them from bleeding or healing over. “Don’t forget to keep using this stuff…” he reminds Fiona, handing her the tube. “We don’t want the holes to close up and adhere to the rings. Speaking of which, let’s get those suckers mounted in there…” he says, shaking out an envelope filled with five silver circlets, similar to the ones that now adorn the tips of Alison’s nipples. Opening up the gap between the ends of the silver circles with a pair of jeweler’s pliers, he threads them one by one through the holes he has made, once again using the forceps to pull her skin taught and away from her belly.
All that now remains is for him to solder them closed. Spider frowns in fierce concentration, his beady black eyes narrowed and a little muscle twitching in his jaw… A delicate operation, but one accomplished with a minimum of fuss and thankfully without burning the delicate membranes of the tightly-bound slave girl’s pussy. Alison is almost swooning with the intensity of her terror and the stress of the wounds that have been inflicted upon her, although she feels little actual pain, still doped up from the repeated injections she has been given. What she can feel is a pressure and pulsating fullness along the whole length of her clitoral shaft, as stuffed with metal as it now is. Between that and the two new rings at the tip of her breasts, she can think of nothing else, can’t imagine ever being able to think of anything else… which of course is just exactly how Slate wants it. Even more than the physical effect, the mental and psycho-sexual result is devastating. She has been reduced in her own mind to nothing more than a cunt and a pair of tits. Nothing else matters. She stands there abjectly sniffling with tears running down her cheeks, feeling more than ever completely lost and totally enslaved. But Spider isn’t done yet. The greasy haired biker brings a fourth syringe up to her slit, spreading her coral-colored inner labia for more injections, lower down…
Alison barely even flinches when the needle sinks home, not even caring what they do to her any more as it works up and down the length of her slit between her inner lips, finally driving into the very mouth of her vagina to empty itself there, leaving her whole pussy as tinglingly numb as the multiply-ringed hood of her clit. The suffering slave girl wishes she could just pass out and sleep through the whole operation, but the stimulants in the mix of drugs that addle her brain keep her stubbornly awake and alert. She feels as if she is disembodied, watching herself from somewhere a million miles out in space as if she were someone else as Spider repeats the whole tedious process of piercing her inner labia, cauterizing the holes and installing three new rings in each pink lip. She now has a line of six rings in each of her delicate and bright pink inner labia so that their entire length is pierced every quarter inch or so. And that’s not counting the bigger and thicker ones in her outer lips.
Adding it all up, this makes a total of twenty four piercings she now wears in her flesh, not even counting the ones in her ears, every one of them an emblem of sexual slavery and submission. Her entire being is dominated by their piercing presence within her, not to mention the constriction of the ultra-severe corset around her waist, the tight bondage to which she is constantly subjected, and the repeated and degrading injections, ass-fuckings, pluggings and whippings she is forced to endure. She feels herself utterly lost and broken, all vestiges of her former personality wiped out and eradicated by the relentless subjugation and punishment of her body and mind until nothing is left but a more-or-less willing receptacle for the perverted and sadistic lusts of others. Shamefully anxious to please and obey the demands of her Master, she quivers with cloying and eager servility, her hairless little cunt always wet and excitedly ready to be penetrated. Surely she deserves to be punished for being such a whore.
Meanwhile, Spider and Fiona are taking a break, smoking a cigarette and sitting back with a fresh beer to admire their handiwork. On the TV screen across the room, Alison is face-down on the cushion at the Caligula Club, moaning in gasping in pain and ecstasy as Slate pounds his oversized member up her well-whipped ass, making her cry out as her clutching spasming rectum clamps down on his massive thickness and she comes and comes and comes on his sodomizing dick, her innocent girlish face contorted in masochistic bliss. “Lookit that…” Spider comments harshly… “She sure loves a dick up her ass, don’t she?” “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it…” Fiona replies sarcastically. “Fuck you, you bitch…” the evil-looking biker responds. “In your dreams, pal… In your dreams…”
This exchange of pleasantries over, it is time for Spider to get back to work. Fiona clears away the detritus of the piercing operation on the silver tray, making room for the long-haired creep’s tattooing equipment. With the expertise born of long practice, he lays out his electric tattooing machine and fills a couple of reservoirs with black and bright pink-magenta ink.
He prepares the smoothly depilated surface of Alison’s mons, wiping it thoroughly with alcohol and laying a thin paper tracing of the design he intends to follow over it. This he wets with water, transferring the design to the surface of her skin like one of those temporary tattoos we used to play with as kids. He flicks the switch on his machine, which starts to buzz loudly as the little needle pistons in and out, pulling his stool in close between Alison’s widely-cuffed legs and reaching up with his rubber-gloved left hand to pull upwards on the skin of her lower belly with his thumb, stretching it taught. He dips the needle into his ink reservoir and brings it up to the tracing he has transferred, ready to start with the final step that will mark the lovely blonde forever as a slave and a prostitute.
At the first touch of the needle, Alison turns rigid in her bonds, biting down hard and grinding her teeth. Unlike her pussy, the skin of her lower belly is still quite sensitive and has not been anesthetized. She can feel every burning stab of the electric needle as he slowly and methodically begins to outline the shape of a pink-magenta heart on her hairless mound. After thirty seconds or so of this, she just lets go and starts screaming shrilly, begging and pleading with him to stop… please stop…
“I think we better muzzle this bitch…” Spider comments disgustedly, pulling back his machine for a moment. “She’s starting to get on my nerves.” “No sooner said than done…” Fiona replies with alacrity, fishing around for a thick black rubber bit which she has kept handy for just such an eventuality. Holding Alison’s nose to force her to open her mouth, she slips the thing between the girl’s teeth and buckles it firmly around the back of her head with a stetchy rubber strap. “Bite down on that…” she instructs the helplessly gagged slave girl. “It will keep you from biting your tongue…” “URKKK… URKKK…” the defenseless young woman protests feebly, bridled as thoroughly as any animal. Spider turns his machine back on, ready to go back to work.
BZZZZZZ…BZZZZZZ… goes the electric needle, tracing the outline of a bright pink heart about three inches high by three inches wide, then filling it in with the stinging indelible ink. Spider pauses every minute or two to wipe away the little flecks of blood and excess ink from the smooth and prominent mound above her slit. The bottom point of the heart just touches the top of her clitoral hood, seeming to point down to the row of rings that pierce her there. Alison twists and thrashes her head around with the relentless stinging pain, the rest of her body immobilized by her tight bondage to the post behind her. “URRKKK… GLRKKK… GLORKKKK…” she expostulates past the choking bit in her mouth. BZZZZZZ…BZZZZZZ…BZZZZZZ…the greasy-haired tattoo artist changes the needle on the machine, dipping it into the black ink as he traces out the shapes of the familiar crossed and looped whips, superimposed over the heart, leaving room for her Master’s initials. In a calligraphic and scroll-like script, he tattoos her forever with the letters DS, right in the middle of the heart underneath and between he crossed whips.
“Now the whole world will know who she belongs to…” he comments darkly. “I’ll bet she’ll never forget it either. The only thing more permanent would be to brand it onto her ass.” “Maybe someday…” replies Fiona musingly. “I don’t think Slate wants her scarred just yet… A few whip marks, maybe, but it would be a shame to mar the soft smoothness of her skin.” The mere mention of the idea sends Alison into a paroxym pf fresh terror. Branded with a red-hot iron… she can scarcely imagine the pain of it… Could such a fate really be in her future? If Slate wills it, it will be, she realizes with helpless resignation. She can only hope that he finds her beautiful enough, moving enough, without making her bear this ultimate mark of his mastery and her submission. “Maybe we should untie her now…” Fiona suggests… “before her shoulders come out of their sockets.”
“Yeah, I guess so…” Spider responds as he tapes a sterile gauze pad over the tattoo he has just finished. He starts packing up his tools and lights up another Camel…”My work here is done. I wouldn’t mind giving her a dose of the old tube steak but I think she needs a rest. This kind of action always gets me worked up. As a matter of fact, I’d advise you to take it easy on her for a day or two and give her a chance to heal. It’ll work out better in the long run. Just keep her doped up and let her sleep it off… That tattoo on her cunt might scab up a little bit before it settles in. Just remember to keep it clean and use that ointment I gave you on the piercings once or twice a day so nothing gets infected. By tomorrow night or so she should be ready to go back into action, although I wouldn’t pull too hard on those rings for a couple of more days…”
“Well, we’ve got her on a kind of rigorous training schedule…” Fiona answers dubiously, “But if you think its best…” “Like I said, you don’t want to wind up taking her to the hospital…” the gaunt-faced tattoo freak reminds her. “Tell Slate I recommend he should back off for a day or two… he’s got plenty of other girls to pick up the slack. Now let’s get her down off that post and into her bed…”
Between the two of them, they unstrap the barely-conscious Alison from the pillar behind her, ungagging her and removing the spreader bar to allow her to finally close her legs and get them under her, although the girl still stands kind of bowlegged due to the throbbing soreness of her cunt. The exhausted blonde captive gasps loudly in relief as the elbow cuffs are finally loosened and pulled off, letting her cramped shoulders slump forward. Fiona even unclasps the wristcuffs from behind her back, refastening them in front of her after reminding her strictly not to touch her rings or tattoo, on the pain of having her elbows bound behind her again. The tortured slave girl obeys mindlessly, allowing them to lead her unsteadily back to the bedroom. Half supported by their guiding arms, she wishes only to collapse into a welcome oblivion. The stimulants in the injections she received have largely worn off by now, leaving her still heavily narcotized and rapidly drifting towards unconsciousness. She dimly feels Fiona’s hands at her back as they lay her down on the bed, loosening the laces of her corset to give her a little breathing room. The brunette unties the laces of her black latex boots and pulls them off, not without some struggle. It feels wonderful to at least be able to bend her joints again…
Alison hardly even stirs as her Mistress fastens her wrist cuffs to the collar around her neck, chaining her to the headboard by the ring in the back of her collar as she always does, finally pulling up the quilted white satin comforter to cover her. A warm cozy fog reaches up to envelop the exhausted blonde, taking her down, down, down into blackness… From the television in the other room the sounds of a whip striking flesh can dimly be heard. A slave girl’s lullabye.
“Maybe I can give you some help with your little problem there…” Fiona suggests to the creepy-looking long haired biker, pointing with a laquered fingernail at his still-bulging erection. “I could use a little action myself… the little slave bitch has been getting all the attention around here. C’mon in my room and we’ll have a little party… that is if you’re not too tired. We’ll do a little dope, smoke a little boo and bump uglies… what do you say?”
“I’m never too tired for that kind of party…”Spider replies with a crooked grin. “Let’s get down…” Arm in arm Alison’s two hopped-up tormentors walk off to while away the afternoon in an orgy of drugs and perverted lust while she sleeps. After they bang up a couple of speedballs, Fiona begs him to tie her to the bed, taking his skinny crooked crank gratefully up her well-padded ass. This is the first good fucking she’s had in days, and she misses it, slipping easily into the submissive role as she pleads with him to give it to her harder and faster. Fiona can work either side of the street with equal enthusiasm, as long as the action is hot… By the time Spider staggers out of the apartment at four in the afternoon, he feels like he’s been through a wringer, which in fact he has. Fiona, on the other hand, is as perky as a sparrow as she lets him out the door, her eyes shining and a catlike smile on her face as she sits down contentedly on the couch in her bathrobe to watch some dumb game show and drink a cup of tea, once again flipping idly through the pages of some glamour magazine, looking for new ideas in hairstyling and makeup. After a little while she goes into Alison’s room, preparing a dose of a powerful painkiller/sedative and injecting it into the drowsy blonde’s softly rounded buttock to keep her knocked out for another couple of hours. She then goes off to her own room to dress for the evening, making herself another fix while she’s at it before she takes a shower and stuffs her ample curves into a shiny black rubber dress of a similar material as Alison’s corset. It has a tight, low-cut bodice and a wide belt, and she finds some black stockings and high-heeled black ankle boots to go with it.
CHAPTER FOUR
By the time Alison wakes up it’s already early in the evening, the sounds of the city forty stories below dying down a little as all the normal people are going home from work, sitting down to their dinners, walking their dogs, or what have you. Gradually the lovely blonde returns to consciousness, becoming aware firstly of the throbbing and stinging of the fifteen new rings that have been installed in her flesh, and secondly of her burning need to urinate. She squirms helplessly where she is chained to the bed, calling out for her Mistress to please come and unchain her, begging for relief from the burning ache in her pierced tits and cunt. The presence of all that hardware has made the whole area swell up and become inflamed as her body reacts defensively, trying to reject the unwanted intruders. Not to mention the soreness of her recently-tattooed mound. Alison is in a world of hurt… if she ever thought she deserved punishment for being such a slut she sure is getting it.
Fortunately, Fiona has a pretty good idea of what her slender but nicely-rounded roommate is going through. She walks into the room with a soothing narcotic injection already prepared in her hand. Murmering a few gentle words she rolls the blonde over and slips the needle into the suffering girl’s softly rounded ass cheek. Within a half a minute, a comforting warm lazy glow is spreading through Alson’s body, relaxing her and easing the pulsating torment of her many piercings, subduing the flaming hurt into a warm and rather pleasant sensual glow, overlaid with a certain tingling nervous alertness caused by the stimulant added to the mix.
“Thank you… thank you, Mistress…” the enslaved receptionist says, meekly allowing the brunette to unfasten her from the bed and lead her off to the bathroom to do her business. “It’s about time you woke up… Slate will be here in another hour or so to look in on you… Just enough time to grab something to eat and freshen you up a little…” At the sound of her Master’s name, Alison’s belly clutches in an unexpected spasm of fearful excitement, sending a jolt of electricity to her suddenly responsive little clit… Will he be pleased when he sees her newly-bejeweled tits and slit, the degrading tattoo that marks her forever as his property? She shivers to herself, thinking of how he has fucked her, whipped her, used her… After all she has endured for his sake, she is suddenly desperately in need of his attention and approval. Her pulse quickens, looking forward anxiously to the moment he walks in the door. She worships him as fervently as a true believer at the feet of the Prophet. She notices that her hands are suddenly trembling, her palms wet with a heady combination of fear and arousal. The young blonde uneasily tries to cover up her reaction, shamed by the involuntary rush of desire that moistens her multiply-pierced cunt.
These mental gymnastics are not lost on Fiona, who smirks indulgently. “Don’t worry, little slave girl… you’ll get yours.” she says, as if reading her thoughts. “He’s certainly got you well trained… You’re salivating like one of Pavlov’s dogs at the mere mention of his name. But let’s get some food into you first. You can have some nice hot dick for dessert, if you’re a good girl and eat all your brussel sprouts…” Alison stares down at her feet, red-faced with embarrassment at the way the other girl has intuited her reactions. “Maybe I should give you a towel to sit on so you don’t leave a spot…” Fiona taunts her as she leads her humiliated captive out to the dining area, where a light dinner of broiled chicken, salad and vegetables is already set out on the table, along with a couple glasses of white wine. The cuffed blonde’s food is already chopped up into bite-sized pieces to avoid the awkwardness of trying to cut it up with her tightly-braceleted wrists fastened together. Fiona seats Alison at the table, then takes her place across from her. She lights up a pungent joint and passes it to the shackled blonde. “Take a few puffs… it’ll help you work up an appetite…”
Obediently, Alison tokes on the joint, holding the smoke deep in her lungs for a minute, feeling the hypnotic and sensual rush of the THC as it spreads through her body. But there’s something else… a jolt of adrenaline that makes her heart suddenly pound in her chest… a nervous anxiety that flutters in her belly and somehow blends excitingly with the languorous and lethargic glow that pervades her. Suddenly she is ravenously hungry, and attacks her food and drains her glass with relish. Perhaps the food will help to calm those nervous tremors that are gathering in the pit of her stomach. When her plate is clean and her glass is empty, she feels a little better, sitting perched on the edge of her chair as alert and expectant as a little bird. “Well don’t just sit there…” Fiona chides her. “Pick up this mess and go put it in the dishwasher.”
Fiona moves over to the couch in the living room, sitting down and lazily smoking one of her long mentholated cigarettes as Alison meekly gathers up the dirty dishes, empties the ashtray, and carries them off to the kitchen. Her eyes are drawn to the rack of cutlery over the counter… briefly she toys with the idea of cutting Fiona’s throat. The smug deceiving bitch. It was her that led Alison into all this. Just as quickly she discards the thought… she would never make it out the door, even if she could find the secret code. Slate’s goons would be on her before she took two steps toward the elevator. Not to mention the way she is dressed and pierced… she doesn’t have the guts to run out onto the street like that. How could she possibly explain? Where in fact would she go? What would she do?
With an inward sigh she turns back to the living room to get ready for Slate’s arrival, trapped as much by her own indecision and even complicity as by the cuffs on her wrists. In her heart she knows she still wants to see him… to please him… Now more than ever she needs to feel his hands upon her, his dick within her, his whip… Her brief rage at Fiona passes. After all the woman is but an instrument, an extension of Slate’s will, just as she herself is. Wasn’t it she herself who snapped the handcuffs around her own wrists that afternoon… Wasn’t it she who finally agreed to submit to Slate’s domination…? In truth the orgasms she has had while in bondage make any sexual experiences she had before that seem pitiful. Now it is too late to turn back. She allows Fiona to lead her back to the bedroom and sits the docile and expectant blonde down before the makeup mirror to be primped and coiffed… she does want to look her best for Him… until her face and hair have been restored to doll-like perfection. Fiona refastens Alison’s leash to the collar around her neck and gets her up again, the compliant blonde obediently holding up her cuffed wrists to be fastened to the doorframe so that her roommate can tighten the laces of her corset once again. One thing’s for certain about her new life style… it leaves her little room for choice. For the rather unimaginative but hot-looking little blonde it’s actually a relief not to have to think any more… all she has to do is obey. The important thing is that He is coming…
She sucks in her stomach, holding her breath as Fiona tightens the laces of the wasp-waisted corset, finding a strange sense of security in its constricting grip. It may be uncomfortable at first, but she’s beginning to like what it does for her figure… the way it molds her into shape… She steps back into the long black rubber boots with their impossibly high heels, quietly waiting as Fiona laces them tightly up her leg. She certainly won’t be running away in these things… she can hardly walk. Fiona reaches up to gently finger her slit, testing her, finding her moist and attentive… for a minute or two she works the girl, until her fingers are squelching in and out of the blonde’s hot little honeypot and Alison is gasping and weak in the knees. “My goodness.. I almost forgot…” the brunette informs her brightly… “it’s time for your pluggie. What are we up to now… a size fifteen I think?”
“Y… Yes, Mistress…” Alison admits reluctantly, knowing that to lie would in all probability only make things worse. She bites her lip in frustration as the brunette’s gloved fingers leave her tingling with unsated arousal. She watches in shamefaced silence as her guardian first opens her legs and fastens her ankles to the sides of the doorframe, then rummages around in the big black chest, finally coming out with a fifteen-inch butt stretcher of smooth and pliable black rubber a good two inches thick and already shining with lubrication. The three little chains that will hold it in place dangle down and tinkle softly in the quiet room. In her other hand Fiona holds an applicator full of lube. This she proceeds to thrust into Alison’s hairless pink anus as she hangs there in the doorframe, after pushing the girl into position with her face thrust forward and her ass stuck out behind, her arms tight to the side of her head as she hangs from her cuffs. Apprehensively, the innocent-looking blonde squirms as she feels the cool greasy lube being squeezed out inside her hot squishy rectum. Her tits and pussy are beginning to throb with pain again from her many new piercings and suddenly having a fifteen inch rubber dick up her ass doesn’t seem like such a good idea…
Fortunately Fiona has anticipated this and has the solution ready to hand. Another 10ccs of that liquid ex injected in her ass and the blonde will be loving every millimeter of that rubber dingus as it goes up her squirmy little hole. Seeing the hypodermic in her Mistress’ hand, Alison whimpers but doesn’t even try to protest. In truth she knows it will be easier to take what’s coming this way…She does her best to hold very, very still as the long needle sinks into the depths of her scared little rectum. She feels the hot squishy glow building deep inside her ass…along with a sick craving for penetration. Suddenly fifteen inches doesn’t seem like so much anymore… it seems like just enough… By the time Fiona has emptied out this fresh syringe into the depths of her captive’s little pink asshole, the blonde is once more floating away on a billowing cloud, eyes closed and breathing heavily through the mouth. Now she’s ready…The brunette brings the black rubbery head of the dildo up to the now blissfully whacked-out blondes asshole and begins to pry it open…
“Push back against it…” Fiona instructs, “You know it will go in easier that way. It’s going up there one way or another, so make it easy on yourself and cooperate. Just pretend it’s Slate… you know he wants you to be wearing it when he gets here. He likes to keep his little sluts with their asses plugged. Keeps them humble, I guess… Now open up for me, that’s a girl…” Alison squeaks and squawks as the first two inches of the mammoth ass-filler pop past her wide-stretched sphincter into the softer and more elastic tissues of her bowels. She squeezes her eyes tightly shut and tries to imagine that it is He and not some rubbery instrument that is impaling her. It helps to remind herself that she is doing this for Him… that it is He who is penetrating her by proxy, if you will. Gradually, her tight asshole relaxes its grip, allowing Fiona to start working more and more of it into her. She feels an involuntary opening and shifting going on inside her body as it begins to accommodate itself to the thick invader. With her other hand, Fiona reaches between the blonde’s legs to insinuate a rubber-gloved finger between her ringed inner labia, tickling the underside of her multiply-pierced and exquisitely sensitive little clit. Alison rises up on her toes and bucks her hips with the sudden jolt of hot cunty arousal that shoots up her spine, allowing the black rubber dildo to penetrate another three or four inches up into her submissively spasming bottom, stretching her painfully, excitingly… It hurts, but she wants to take it… take it all for Him. The dark-haired dominant keeps working her clit, timing her thrusts with the buttplug with the stroking of her finger, relentlessly screwing the last few inches of the fat rubber dork in until the flaring base of the object is pressed up tight against the crack of Alison’s bottom and all fifteen inches are stuffed up the gasping whimpering blonde’s obediently clutching and squeezing rectum.
“There now… that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Fiona asks rhetorically as she fastens the little chains up in front and behind that hold the monstrous thing in place. “Ohhhh… Oooohhhhh…. It’s so biiigggg…. Sooo biiigggg…” the anally-penetrated blonde is reduced to moaning, her eyes rolling in her head, temporarily totally overwhelmed by the incredibly stuffed feeling up her ass. She wiggles her hips around, trying to make more room inside herself… feeling her squishy inner bowels shifting around and straightening to relieve the pressure and stretching of her slippery inner walls. She can feel the head of the thing up inside her somewhere behind her belly button, it seems. “Better get used to it…” Fiona advises, “You’re gonna wear it until Slate decides to take it out. He ought to be getting here around eight, and he likes you to be well-stretched out for him… makes it easier to get his dick in there, or maybe a needle…”
Alison groans, her hot little cunt dripping honey in an anguish of fear and desire. Of all the things that have been done to her, the reoeated anal injections and ass-fuckings have been the most dangerously exciting. She shivers, her massively-plugged rectum clutching and milking submissively on the thick black rubber intruder as she waits for Him to come to her. The piercings in her nipples and clit are throbbing hotly in her now, her hairless girlish twat creaming. “I see you like that idea…” Fiona observes as she reaches up between the girl’s legs to finger her wetness… “Tell me, which one gets you more excited… the dick or the needle? Do you like it deep in your ass? Do you, you little whore?”
“Y… Yes, Yes Mistress…” the massively-stuffed blonde confesses. “I do… I… I like it… I can’t keep myself from comingggg…” The drugged-up little sex slave wiggles and squirms in her bondage, her hips grinding in time with the hot squishy contractions in her ass and cunt as Fiona strums her pierced little clit with her rubber-gloved finger. Suddenly she stops, leaving the blonde gasping on the edge… “Did I tell you you could come? I don’t think so. You wanna come? You’ll have to beg me for it… G’wan and beg me for it, you little slut…”
“Please, Mistress… please let me come…” the still-shackled and red-faced blonde pleads breathlessly, playing the role…
“No.” the catsuited brunette replies shortly. “You do and you’ll be punished. Now come along… You can wait at the whipping post for your Lord and Master.” Alison is stunned and humiliated by this refusal. She was trying to be so good… Fiona deftly frees the girl’s legs, unfastens her cuffed wrists from the doorframe and reattaches them to her collar there in front of her. She then clips the dog leash to the ring at the end of the massively-plugged blonde’s vertical clitoral hood piercing and gives it a little tug, making sure she has the girl’s complete attention… Alison’s eyes widen in alarm. “Follow me…” she commands, leading the mincing blonde out of the bedroom and into what used to be their living area, now redone as a sort of bondage playground with the bench and the spotlit pillar there in the center of the room. Once again, Alison is chained to the post by the ring in the back of her collar to stand there and await whatever fate has been ordained for her. At least her elbows aren’t tied behind her like last time. She stands there silently, shifting her weight as best she can from toe to toe, her eyes rolling with the sensation of all that rubber dick up her ass as the minutes tick by and she becomes more and more anxious. Fiona nonchalantly relaxes on the couch smoking some more boo and cuing up the evening’s television entertainment as some generic pop music plays on the radio. “I believe the Boss has a surprise for you…” the voluptuous brunette announces teasingly. “An old friend is coming by to visit…”
CHAPTER FIVE
Suddenly they hear the sound of the door latches sliding open. Slate is letting himself in with his passkey. Fiona jumps up to greet him at the door, leaving the apprehensive Alison still standing there cuffed and plugged and chained to the post. Imagine her surprise and dismay when she sees that Slate is in fact not alone. He has brought her old boyfriend Tom from the office here to see her like this… She can scarcely think of anyone she would less want to have visit her right now except for maybe her mother. She is totally mortified with shame and embarrassment at her obviously enslaved condition, the bizarre get-up she is wearing, the rings that dangle and shine in her nakedly exposed sex organs, the fresh tattoo that decorates her mons, proclaiming her loudly to be a whore and the property of another… Tom just stares at her like she’s a creature from another planet.
“Hello, Alison…” Slate greets her. “I brought an old playmate of yours along tonight. You remember Tom, don’t you? He’s the poor fool that you used to jerk around all the time, remember?” Alison squirms inwardly, remembering the way she used to coldly and playfully manipulate the good-looking but boyishly eager young man. He had thought he could win her with ballet tickets and dinners and candy and flowers… She would lead him on just enough to get him all hot and bothered, then inexplicably blow him off, making herself difficult to please… then suddenly and impulsively she would give herself to him, toying with him, making him dance like a puppet on a string. She has a feeling that things are going to be different this time…
“In spite of the fact that you treated him like a schmuck, this young man here has actually been worried about you, thinking that maybe you were sick or hurt or needed help or something…” Slate goes on. “Despite the fact that you treated him rather contemptuously, Tom is actually one of my more talented employees. He has a bright future at Slate Enterprises and I’ve kind of taken it upon myself to teach him a few of the facts of life. Like for instance how a slut like you needs to be dominated and punished… I should say he understands you much better now, although I wouldn’t blame him if he still feels a little betrayed now that he sees what a little scum-sucking whore you really are. What have you got to say for yourself? I think you should apologize to the man…” Slate announces. He walks over to the post and unfastens the blonde’s chain and leads her back across the room to Tom by the leash still hanging from the ring in her cunt. He forces her to her knees…
“I… I’m sorry, Tom…” the humiliated blonde begins to apologize lamely… “I can’t imagine what you must think… Please please don’t tell anyone… I guess I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me now but I’ve become a different person…” “Just tell me” the anguished young man replies… “Is all this true? Have you really become some sort of sex slave to Mister Slate here? Is this what you really wanted all along? I can set you free. Mr. Slate has agreed to let you leave here with me tonight, if that is what you choose. You can take off that whore costume and pack your bags. Come home with me… I don’t know what kind of crazy trip you got yourself onto but with love and kindness you could still have a normal life…” A longish silence falls, hanging heavy in the air. For Alison, it’s not a question of what the answer must be… that is a foregone conclusion. The problem is to speak at all past the lump in her throat…
“No…” she finally says… “No… I guess the truth is I really belong here, belong to Him now…” The buttplugged blonde gazes reverentially at Slate… “Where else would I go? What would I do? I could never make you happy… I would probably drive you crazy, and hate myself for doing it, and wind up making you hate me too. But the person you used to know is gone. I’m someone else now. So forget about it, Tom, for both our sakes. Just accept what has happened and get on with your life. You’ll find another girl one day, one who can love you for what you are. But it can’t be me… I’m already taken, you see…”
Her former boyfriend’s face twists into a mask of confused rage and pain… “So it IS true…” he mutters as Slate looks on with an expression of bemused irony. “You cocksucking bitch! You led me around by the nose for months just to wind up giving yourself to someone else… someone who treats you like a piece of shit! I can’t believe I’ve been such a fool! I shoulda just kicked you in the ass a long time ago when you first started playing your games with me…” “Well, calm down, son… you might still get your chance…” Slate interjects. “That is, if you’re still interested. She is about due for her nightly whipping. How would you like to be the one to give it to her? Then you can use her any way you like… isn’t that right, Alison?” “Y… Yes, Sir… whatever you say…” the mortified blonde answers submissively. “That’s not how you apologize, Alison…” Slate corrects her… “Crawl over there and unzip his fly, You know what to do…”
Obediently, the plugged and pierced blonde knee-walks over to the angry young man who she used to twist around her finger, her eyes downcast, knowing that Slate is taking some special sort of pleasure in exposing her in this way. With her cuffed hands, she awkwardly reaches up to pull down his zipper, reaching in with her fingers to pull out his already hardening cock. Although of only average size, he is at least possessed with the boundless energy of youth. “A guy his age should be able to come two or three times in an evening…” Slate observes, “…and you’re gonna take it all. Now blow him, you bitch, and swallow it all or I’ll put a hurt on your ass…”
Quickly, Alison fastens her full pink lips around the shaft of Tom’s hot manly organ, licking and slurping it abjectly. “Look up at him while you’re doing it…” Slate commands… “I want him to see your face.” Alison stares up into the stony and angry face of her former boyfriend, her eyes wide and imploring as she sucks obediently on his dick, licking and tickling the underside of his throbbing manmeat with her tongue. “How do you like that, Tom?…” Slate enquires. “I bet she never sucked you off like this before, did she?” “Nah… she sure didn’t…” the young man admits, his face contorted with lust and rage, his nuts already starting to tighten up. Meanwhile, Alison is working the length of his shaft in and out of her warm wet mouth, letting him fuck her face now, opening her throat. Her plugged rectum is starting to spasm and clench around the thick phallic intruder that fills her, her pierced and attentive clit jumping up to attention as she responds with womanly excitement to the pounding of his dick in her slavishly sucking mouth. The drugs in her system still keep her percolating, a creamy dreamy glow still suffusing her pelvis…Tom notices the chains holding the butt plug in place. “What the fuck is that thing, boss…?” he asks Slate.
“Just a little training device…” the granite-faced construction exec explains blithely. “I bet you didn’t know how much this little whore loves to be sodomized… isn’t that right, Alison?” “Yes… Yes, Sir…” the humbled slave girl mumbles obediently around the thick log of male flesh that throbs in her mouth. She backs off it for a second to turn her face up to Tom, knowing what Slate wants her to say… “I… I like to take it anally… I do it that way all the time now… You… You could fuck me in the ass if you want…”
Just hearing this makes the hot-blooded young man’s lust begin to boil over, his rock hard pecker twitching and pulsating hotly as the submissive blonde takes him back in her soft sucking mouth… Suddenly he is coming, spurting jets of hot viscous jism into the back of her throat as he reaches down with his hands to hold her head to him, forcing her face down on his rigid tool and grinding it into her as he shoots his slimy load. “UNGHHH!… UGGHHHH!… URGHHHH!…” he grunts savagely, finally loosening his grip and letting his muscles grow slack… Even after he has come in her mouth, Alison continues sucking, making sure she swallows every drop, licking it clean until it shines with her spittle. She knows what is expected, and does not want to disappoint Him… A few drops of semen spatter her nose and chin as she finally pulls back and sits there on her heels, gasping for breath, looking from Tom over to Slate for approval. “Now say you’re sorry, Alison…” Slate commands her again. “With feeling this time…”
“I… I’m so sorry…” the humbled blonde apologizes abjectly, trickles of sperm running down her chin. “Please forgive me for being such a bitch.” “That’s good, Alison…” Slate comments. “Now beg him to punish you and whip your ass.” The groveling slave girl looks up at her former boyfriend imploringly… “Please, Tom… Please punish me… I know I deserve it. Go ahead and whip me hard and make me cry. It will make both of us feel better… then afterwards you can keep me tied up and fuck me just as hard as you want. I… I’ll be good for you. You can take me any way you like…””Well, since you asked me so nicely…” her disgusted and still enraged former lover answers, “I guess I’ll just have to give it my best. Wait till the guys at the office hear about this… won’t they get a laugh! Alison the ice queen down on her knees begging me for my tube steak… that’s a switch.” “If you like, we could provide you with a video disc as a memento of the occasion…” Slate puts in helpfully. “We could show it on the screen in the conference room one lunchtime next week. Of course I will have to screen the guest list…”
The thought of all her former co-workers witnessing her degradation makes Alison burn in shame. Now everyone will know. She knows enough about human nature to realize that she will receive little sympathy, even from the women, since there is so obviously a part of her that needs and craves this kind of treatment. Didn’t she just beg him with her own lips to whip her ass and then rape her? She must be some kind of sick masochist… a dirty little needle freak whore… No doubt the men will become sadistically aroused, the women either frightened by her or contemptuous and smugly superior. She wonders how many more of Slate’s employees will be invited over in the coming days to enjoy her sexual services. Obviously, Slate intends to use her as a sort of bait… an incentive for his Employee of the Week campaign. Likely everyone from the mailroom boys to the account executives will be falling all over themselves to try and impress their boss once they see this. The really sick part is that she is so sure it is going to work, especially with Tom spreading the word what a good little fuck she is…
Meanwhile, back in the here and now, Slate and Fiona come over to help her to her feet, handing the leash still clipped to her hairless pussy to Tom, allowing him the honor of leading her across the room to the bondage bench. “Strap her down on her belly with her legs spread…” Slate advises. “That way when you’re done beating her she’ll be well-positioned and her whole hindquarters will be readily accessible. Did I mention she likes to take needles deep in her cunt and ass? She can’t stop coming afterwards… wait and see. She’ll milk you dry and then some…”
Injections…? Needles…? “Don’t worry, son, I’ll handle that part…” Slate reassures him, his eyes glinting with a flash of sadistic zeal. Tom looks uneasy but helps Fiona to buckle the straps around Alison’s waist and rubber-stockinged legs, fastening her into a prone kneeling position on the bench. Her belly is just supported by the bottom edge of the white vinyl cushion, her legs spread and her ankles fastened to the frame so that her knees are drawn up on either side as she straddles it, widely quartering her defenseless and hugely-plugged backside. Her cuffed wrists are stretched out tightly above her head and clipped to a ring on the frame of the device, twisting around nervously as she pants in breathless and fearful anticipation. “Here… why don’t you try out this strap, or would you prefer this cat-o-nine tails here…?” Slate suggests, bringing over a thick leather belt and a black leather braided whip from a nearby rack on the wall... “What do you think, Alison?”
Strap… Cat… it makes little difference to the helpless blonde. All she knows is that it is going to hurt and that they will do as they wish whatever she says. “Maybe we’ll have to try both, then…” Slate mocks her silence. “Let’s say twenty five with each. Alison can count them off for us… and don’t forget to thank him when he’s done or we’ll just have to start all over…” “Yesss, Sirrrr…” the captive blonde hisses from between clenched teeth, bracing herself for the first blow… Out of the corner of her eye, she can sense the movement as Tom draws back his hand. He’s not going to hold back any more…
WHIZZ-SPLATT! It is the cat that falls on her first, the nine knotted leather lashes smacking into her upraised buns with sizzling impact, leaving nine narrow bands of redness in their wake. “ONE…” Alison counts, the breath exploding from her lungs as she feels the first lash. She barely has time to draw another breath when… WHIZZ-SPLATT!… here comes another.
“TWO…” she gasps, the heat spreading in her massively-plugged ass, her soft buttocks jiggling with the force of the blow. The lashes of the cat make an audible hissing sound as they whistle through the air to make contact with her helplessly exposed rear. WHIZZ-SPLATT! “THREE…” WHIZZ-SPLATT! “FOUR…” WHIZZ-SPLATT! “FIVE…” Her whole butt is starting to burn as the lashes accumulate. The welts of Slate’s crop, which still scar her behind with darkish purple streaks, are beginning to throb and come to life again. WHIZZ-SPLATT! “SIX…” WHIZZ-SPLATT! “SEVEN…” Already the tightly-bound blonde’s eyes are beginning to fill with tears, her pelvis starting to grind against the white vinyl of the bench beneath her in response to the repeated blows… Unconsciously, she presses the hood of her multiply-ringed and incredibly sensitive little clit down harder into the bench beneath her, sending a hot electrifying jolt of arousal up her spine to mingle with the burning impact of the lash, making her well-stretched asshole clamp down devotedly on the thick phallic invader that fills her…
SPLATT! SPLATT! SPLATT! Eight… nine… ten… the captive receptionist is whimpering now, the tears streaking down her soft downy cheeks as she counts off the relentless cadence of her punishment, shamelessly rubbing her hot and hairless little pussy against the slick white vinyl underneath her in an effort to cut the pain of her punishment with sluttish pleasure… SPLATT! SPLATT! SPLATT! Somehow the burning impact of the cat only encourages her to grind her hips more furiously, getting her more excited… SPLATT! SPLATT! SPLATT! The lovely blonde is sobbing openly now, both in hurt and in helpless arousal as her angry former boyfriend whips her into a frenzy of masochistic abandon…SPLATT! SPLATT! SPLATT! Each sizzling stroke of the cat seems to shoot directly into her eagerly twitching and stiffly attentive clit, making it jump in time with the sound of each blow. Why does being hurt like this just make her more excited…?
Meanwhile, Tom keeps up a torrent of invective, cursing her out with every swing of his arm… “FUCKING DIRTY WHORE…!” SPLATT! “STINKING COCKSUCKER…!” SPLATT! “NASTY EVIL LITTLE BITCH…!” SPLATT! “SCUMMY FUCKING SLUT…!” SPLATT! Alison’s pulse is pounding in her temples, her mouth hanging open as she breathlessly gasps and sobs out the count, her delicately rounded ass cheeks already a mass of flaming torment, turning an overall shade of bright magenta from the repeated and relentless lashes of the nine-tailed cat. SPLATT! Twenty four… SPLATT! Twenty five… Suddenly it stops, leaving the punished and sniveling blonde hanging on the edge of a precipice, her belly tightly coiled with the tension of her impending orgasm, her pierced slit throbbing and gushing with honey as her rectum milks submissively on the long thick black rubber dick that penetrates her, her buttocks still reflexively clenching and unclenching as if still being hit.
“Look at that, Tom…” Slate observes. “See… she’s almost there… almost ready to come for you. I told you she needs to get her ass whipped regularly. Now take this strap and give it to her good and hard. Don’t worry about hurting her… can’t you see she’s a pain-loving slut? She gets off on this shit. The harder you beat her, the harder she will come. Isn’t that right, Alison?” “Y…Yes, Sir…” the sniveling slave girl confesses abjectly. “Please give me the strap… give it to me hard and make me come… please make me come. I’m almost there… almost there…” “Go ahead and make her scream…” Slate recommends. “Don’t worry about the noise. I’ve had this whole place soundproofed. I want to see her broken and begging for mercy…”
His face set in a mask of grim determination, Tom takes the four-foot black leather strap from his employer, wrapping a couple of turns around his hand to get a good grip, leaving about three feet of it hanging free. The thing is about two inches wide and made of quite thick and heavy leather, although it is very pliable and not at all stiff, as though it had been treated with neats foot oil or something similar. Experimentally, the young man swings it through the air, making a wicked low whooshing sound which makes Alison’s stomach curdle with dread. The seconds seem to drag on forever…
WHAPPP!!! The first blow strikes her, drawing a startled gasp as it leaves a dark red stripe superimposed over the overall hot pinkness of her burning tush. She almost forgets to count…”ONE…” WHAPPP!!! The wide leather belt makes a sound like a gunshot as it slaps her softly rippling butt cheeks, making her jump in her bondage like she’d been poked with a red hot pin… WHAPPPP!!! By the third blow her tears are already cascading down her face again as she sobs out the count once more, closing her eyes and shimmying her hips around again, trying desperately to stoke the fires in her hairless little cunt and lose herself in the hot flush of surrender… WHAPPPP!!! She grinds her soft belly down furiously against the sticky white vinyl, rubbing the rings in her hood so hard against the bench that they begin to hurt and throb… Ooooh that’s good. Now she’s getting somewhere… WHAPPPP!!! Every lick of the strap drives her deeper into new levels of submissive excitement even as she cries out now openly in pain…
WHAPPPP!!! WHAPPPP!!!
WHAPPPP! WHAPPPP! Somewhere about the tenth lash, Alison falls over the edge,
screaming out in agonized delight as her body goes rigid and shudders in the
throes of a massive orgasm that seizes her churning ass guts and her burning
throbbing cunt with the power of an epileptic fit. She’s been building up to
this one for a long time… since
WHAPPPP!!! WHAPPPP!!! WHAPPPP!!! Nineteen, twenty, twenty one… As her erstwhile lover raises his arm to deliver the twenty second lash, Alison totally loses all control, begging pleading and blubbering at him to stop, please stop, if even just for a minute… Of course in this environment there’s no such thing as a safe word. That’s kind of the point. Slate will decide when she’s had enough. “Now we’re getting somewhere…” the middle-aged exec comments approvingly. “It took a little longer than I thought. Give her about ten more, and take your time doing it. Let her know who’s really boss. She’s had her fun… now make her pay for it. Break the bitch…”
WHAPPPP!!! WHAPPPP!!! WHAPPPP!!! The strap continues to fall upon her jiggling ass cheeks, reducing Alison to a mindlessly screaming object of suffering and misery. WHAPPPP!!! WHAPPPP!!! WHAPPPP!!! The time seems to stretch on forever, an endless burning torment… WHAPPPP!!! WHAPPPP!!! WHAPPPP!!! Alison realizes there’s no point in counting any more. Tom will continue to beat her until Slate tells him to stop or his arm gets tired… WHAPPPP!!! WHAPPPP!!! WHAPPPP!!! She snivels and sobs, exhausted and hoarse from screaming, too far gone to even plead any more. Tom steps back, winding up with a flourish for one final swat, wanting to make it a good one, one that she’ll remember. A kind of goodbye present, if you will… THWACCCKKK!!! He lets her have it with every drop of frustrated rage that’s in him, wrenching an ugly groan from the back of her throat… “How do you like that, you sick fucking bitch?” he demands angrily… “Was that painful enough for you? Now are you satisfied…?”
“Thank you… Thank you for punishing me…” the beaten blonde still has the presence of mind to reply between sobs. If there’s one thing she knows, it’s that things could always get worse. At least it’s over for now… or she thinks it is. A slave girl never knows. “Let’s have a drink, Tom…” Slate suggests. “Whipping asses is thirsty work. We could relax and watch a few cds of Alison in action while Fiona fixes her up some anal injections. After what she’s been through she could use a little pick-me-up… ” Alison just lies there, strapped tightly to the bondage bench, her burning and bright red behind swollen and welted. She can hear the clink of ice cubes falling into a glass in the kitchen, the men’s low and sinister laughter, the sounds of her Mistress bustling around behind her, no doubt filling fat syringes and screwing on long penetrating needles to probe the depths of her whipped and well-stuffed ass. Fiona brings her tray of hypodermic equipment over, setting it down on the little table nearby for the blonde to contemplate. Three big 10cc syringes gleam there in the light. With wicked-looking two, four, and six inch needles screwed onto the ends, they are filled to the brim with god knows what concoction of powerful drugs… she knows that by the time they are empty she’ll once again be forced to become a happily mindless and sexually insatiable zombie. The needles are so terrifyingly long that her hands start to shake in her cuffs, her belly quaking in fear so intense she almost feels faint.
“Scared, huh…” Fiona taunts her. “Scared is good. Slate likes ‘em scared… makes you a better fuck. You want some water?” Alison nods silently, her mouth as dry as the desert sands, unable to speak with the intensity of her terror, staring with horrified fascination at the three glittering hypodermics a foot or two from her face, knowing that soon they will without doubt be probing the depths of her defenselessly exposed and massively plugged rectum. Gratefully she takes a sip of water as Fiona holds a straw to her lips. “Don’t worry, honey…” the brunette reassures her, “Slate knows what he’s doing. You might think you’re gonna die, but you won’t. The Boss had a doctor teach him how to do this. You’re gonna wind up liking it. You’re gonna feel like you’ve gone to heaven right there up your girlish ass…”
The two men return to the room, carrying their highballs in their hands. “Now watch this…” Slate instructs his young protégé…You wanted to know what our little sex slave had stuffed into her? Fiona take it out and show it to him, and make sure she licks it clean afterwards. Now that she’s had her whipping, its time for her to feel some really long needles up her ass… I’m gonna send her to deep anal paradise. Then we can both fuck the living shit out of her…” “I guess you know what you’re doing…” the young man agrees. “Of course I do…” Slate replies. “That’s why I’m the boss…” Meanwhile, Fiona is busily unclipping the chains that hold the rubbery black butt-stretcher in place, easing its fifteen-inch length out of the prone blonde still helplessly strapped to the bondage bench. Inch by inch, the amazing length of it oozes out of her hairless and widely- stretched pink asshole, gleaming with shiny lubrication and pulling her delicate membranes with it…
“Holy shit…” Tom exclaims as the fat head of the pluggie finally pops out of her with a wet farting sound. “I can’t believe she took that whole thing…” “Oh you’d be surprised what little Alison can do… she’s really quite well-trained for a novice.” Slate comments paternally. “It might be a little uncomfortable at first, but the female body is quite elastic. After all, they do carry babies around in there… There’s nothing that makes a little whore like Alison feel as submissive as having her ass filled, unless it’s having it fucked. That’s why I make sure she is anally penetrated at least several times a day, often for long periods of time. Between that and the drug injections we give her, the whippings and the tight bondage, she is kept constantly in an obedient and receptive frame of mind. What’s more, she actually loves it, being kept that way, as you can tell by just feeling how hot and wet her little pussy always is. Cunts don’t lie… So take my advice. If you’ve got a little bitch and you want to keep her then you have to take control. You’ve got to dominate her totally, mind and body, twenty four hours a day. Otherwise, you’re just in for trouble… You’ll wind up being played on and manipulated until you don’t know which way is up…” Meanwhile, Fiona has carried the long stinky and slimy black rubber appliance around to the other end of the bench, and is holding it up to Alison’s lips as the whipped and broken slave girl timidly licks it clean with her pointy pink tongue, her chin trembling with fear and anguish…
“But… what about love?” the confused young man asks, frowning in consternation. “What about tenderness and caring for each other?” “Forget that shit…” Slate replies flatly. “It’s got nothing to do with sex. If you want love, get yourself a dog. All that romantic shit is for timid teenage virgins. You don’t want to meet her parents or buy her any ring… what you really want is to fuck her soft pink ass hole…” “You’re a hard man, Slate, but that does sound hot…” the young man admits.
“You have no idea…” the saturnine executive replies darkly, holding up the first of the big hypodermics so that its evilly-gleaming needle glints in the light. He scoots his stool up behind Alison’s helplessly exposed and widely parted rear where she straddles the bottom end of the bondage bench, her slender and tightly-corseted waist strapped down firmly across the small of her back to force her to arch her spine and display her hindquarters more openly. After two hours of wearing the massive rubber plug, her exhausted sphincter can’t even close any more. Her ass gapes open laxly to reveal a couple of inches of the darkish red interior of her soft squishy bowels, still shining with lubrication. It will take some time for them to snap back into shape. Meanwhile, Slate intends to take advantage of her openness…
With a single thrust, he drives the steel shaft of the two-inch hypodermic down into the circle of muscular tissue at the mouth of the blonde’s laxly gaping back entrance, stabbing through the thin pink membranes of her inner wall into the ring of her sphincters, injecting a goodly dose of solution right there at the trembling entrance to her anal canal. Soon the terrified blonde is starting to feel all warm and squishy down there again as a familiar sensual throbbing and tingling starts spreading inside her… Slate works his way around inside in a circle, squeezing out more and more drugs as he goes, until the entire entrance to her backside a few inches deep is pulsating pleasantly and hot jolts of fearful excitement and weak-kneed surrender are ripping though the tightly-tied blonde. Alison gasps in terror, pain, and then wonderment… it’s starting feel so good up her ass… so good… Her slick pink bowels start fluttering again, her pierced little clit stiffening…
Alison can hardly feel the sharp stab of the needle now, but merely pressure as the shaft moves about within her. In a way this is more scary than the pain. He could be really damaging her and she wouldn’t even know it, swept away on the tide of comfy narcotized bliss that swells within her. The drug that infuses her has a slight numbing effect, somehow desensitizing her to most pain but still leaving her tinglingly alive to pleasure and excitement. As if to prove the point, a shot of pulse-pounding arousal runs up her spine to explode in her brain, making her whinny and once more start pressing her hot little clit down on the bench beneath her. A pleading whine escapes her throat, although whether she is asking him to stop or begging him for more is increasingly unclear. The alarm bells that have been ringing in her head seem further and further away now as a gush of sensual passivity overcomes her, making her relax in her bonds, her hands no longer shaking… Alison whimpers as he works the needle around inside her quivering ass opening, her closed eyelids fluttering as she feels the cold sensation of the drugs flowing into her there, soothing her, warming her, making her pant with excitement as her heart pounds and her body tingles. “Ooooohhhhhh…. Oooooooohhhh… the little blonde moans girlishly…
By the time Slate has emptied the first syringe, Alison is already in a dreamland of sexual submission, abandoning herself completely to the scary thrill of his deeply probing needle up her helplessly quivering ass. “See…” the hard-faced construction magnate grins…”She’s digging it now. Practically begging for more. I’ll bet she wants it deeper, don’t you, Alison? Would you like it deeper and higher up in your ass?” “Y… Yesss, Master…” the spaced-out blonde whimpers softly. “Go ahead and give it to me… I… I like it… Please, just do it… do it and then fuck me… fuck me as hard as you like…” The lovely young blonde squirms and grovels in her bonds as Slate picks up the second hypo with its wicked four inch needle...
Carefully, he pries open the girl’s rear aperture, holding it open with his thumb and forefinger and threading the slender shaft of the needle straight up and into her weakly spasming rectum, not letting it touch or penetrate the side walls until the nut at the base of the needle and the fat barrel of the syringe are pressing into her greasy and well-stretched anus. Straight up and in he drives it, the surgically-sharp point of the lance penetrating into the soft tissues of her bowels as he gradually and relentlessly works the slick glass barrel of the syringe up her hot ass hole, fucking her with it. Alison cries out as she is speared deep inside, then sighs contentedly as she feels the liquid trembling filling her hips, washing away her fear and pain as it obliterates her mind…
Her whole pelvis is filled with a warm throbbing tingle, her tits and pussy pulsating in time with her pounding heart. A melting weakness that suddenly makes her lose control of her bladder and pee a thin stream that runs down the white vinyl of the bondage bench and drips to form a puddle on the floor. “Get a rag and clean that up…” Slate orders, and Fiona hastens to do his bidding as he empties the last of the second syringe into the core of Alison’s squirmy ass guts. Alison is spinning out, her head whirling from the dizzying combination of fearful stress and the massive dose of hypnotics and stimulants being absorbed into her bloodstream. She is beyond speaking, beyond even thinking, a mindless zombie with a hot, receptive cunt. Slate finally pulls the gleaming chrome needle free, its shaft slightly streaked with blood. Witnessing all this, Tom feels a little queasy, his angry lust temporarily dampened by his anxiety for the helpless girl. Sure he hates her, but he doesn’t want her to die… Slate gives him a reassuring glance. He’s done this before. “Fiona, get me a scapula, will you? I’m tired of holding her open with my fingers…”
The brunette returns momentarily with the chrome gynecological tool in her hand and a tube of lubricating jelly. Greasing the thing up thoroughly, Slate inserts its tubular length into the blonde’s helplessly quivering anal opening, turning the little screw thing on the side to spread the blades wider and wider until her asshole is held open in a strained circle and you could look right up her shit chute into the depths of her bowels. The shackled slave girl grunts in discomfort but quickly sinks back into a sort of drugged-out reverie… Slate then takes the third hypo, with its terrifying six-inch needle, and slowly and delicately threads it up between the blades of the scapula, not letting it touch her until it reaches a point four or five inches inside where the chrome instrument ends and her inner bowels close up around it. Slowly, but with steady pressure, he starts to work the long needle up into her, stabbing through the thin wall of her colon and into the soft mushy flesh of her ass guts, sinking it into her an inch at a time and squeezing out more and more solution as he goes, then pressing deeper, deeper… Remorselessly he drives the whole length of the glass barrel of the syringe up between the blades of the scapula until it is all inside her. The flange at its base bumps up against the opening of the chrome spreading device and the point of the long needle is now buried a good ten inches inside the blonde’s soft squishy ass guts somewhere up behind her belly button.
Alison grunts and groans and whimpers as she is relentlessly impaled, terrified even through the thick dreamy haze that already clouds her mind. Although there is little pain due to the anesthetizing effect of all the drugs already injected into her, she is still very much aware of the penetrating sensation of all that steel shaft working around up inside her. As a matter of fact, she is aware of nothing else, so riveting is the experience. This deep inside, the drugs are absorbed into her bloodstream almost instantly, reaching her head in a dizzying rush. The tightly-bound blonde feels as though she is becoming disembodied, floating away on a tide of thrilling soothing liquid warmth that turns her arms and legs to rubber… She is momentarily alarmed to find that she is no longer able to move, her muscles just not responding to her feeble mental commands, all lines of communication broken down except for the ones that seem to be connected to her hotly pulsing ringed clit, which continues to send messages of excited arousal up to her dope-addled brain. It’s all just too much for the lovely young former receptionist, who lies there strapped on her belly with her eyes closed and fluttering, her mouth hanging open as she gasps and moans and a small puddle of drool accumulates on the white vinyl of the bondage bench under her cheek. She makes little inarticulate sounds from somewhere up above cloud nine, no longer even a person really but merely a collection of openly gaping and twitching sex holes, tingling and shivering with narcotized sensuality. Still, there is a part of her that remains aware of what is happening to her, and one that both revels and despairs in her total helplessness… One more time Slate spears the six-inch needle up into the center of her seething ass guts, emptying the last of the powerful solution of hypnotics and stimulants into the deepest core of her forcibly held open bowels. Her whole body is now as limp as a rag doll, but still thrumming with electricity from the stimulating effects of all the methedrine-like elements in the mix, excitingly responsive to the slightest touch but still lost in some dreamy never-never land…
Finally, Slate withdraws the now-empty syringe, unscrewing the blades of the scapula to let the girl’s overworked anal entrance relax for a moment as he tosses the instrument down onto the silver tray. He roughly shoves a couple of fingers up the motionless slave girl’s exposed twat, testing its wetness… They slip in there easily between the ringed inner labia of her hairless pussy, her slippery insides immediately starting to squeeze and felch around his probing digits. Even though Alison is too fucked-up to move, her involuntary internal muscles are still working just fine, responding to stimulation just the way he expects them to. “I think she’s ready for us now…” the salt-and –pepper haired construction exec announces to the dumbfounded junior accountant standing over his shoulder. “Fiona, why don’t you help this young man get his dick hard again… he seems to have lost his motivation.” “You bet, Boss…” she replies. “It will be my pleasure.” As a matter of fact, it’s not too often that the skanky and jaded brunette gets a shot at someone so young and clean-cut. Most of the men she meets are more like Tony and Sal… either low-life thugs or flabby old tricks.
The hunky young office worker stands there uncertainly, not knowing whether to go ahead and fuck his former girlfriend or run for the hills. This scene is definitely too far-out for him. Still, a fuck is a fuck, and even in her present state Alison has lost nothing of her sex appeal. There’s certainly something primitive and exciting about the sight of those dark reddish welts striping her girlish ass, especially knowing that he was the one who put them there. Thinking it over, he realizes that this world of bondage and discipline is an interesting place to visit, but he wouldn’t want to live there. It certainly will make an interesting story one day. Anyway, he’s young and horny enough to try anything once he thinks to himself as Fiona obediently unzips his trousers and fishes out his half-hardening cock, immediately fastening her bright red lips around it and drawing it into her warmly sucking mouth. Slate discreetly steps back, not wanting to make the fellow self-conscious…
It doesn’t take too long before he is as stiff as a flagpole and throbbing and twitching between her lips, bucking his hips to shove it deeper in the back of her throat and screwing up his face in concentration as he ceases his woolgathering… “Whoaaa… Whoaaa there, young fella…” Slate admonishes him, now that he is sure that the boyish hotshot is once again ready to participate in the evening’s entertainment… “Don’t waste that come in Fiona’s mouth. Let go of him, you cock-hungry whore…” With a sigh of disappointment and an angry pout, Fiona relinquishes Tom’s hard hairy dick, leading him over to the bondage bench where her spaced-out roommate is fastened. Turning a little crank on the side of the device, she raises the vaguely burbling Alison’s hips a few inches until her open asscrack and pussy are perfectly on a level with his twitching erection as he stands there behind her. “She’s all yours, champ…” Fiona sez. “Let her have it…”
Slowly, Tom fists his erection and brings it up to the soft lips of Alison’s multiply-ringed cunt, sinking it into her hairless pink hole an inch at a time. He is surprised to find that even though she is seemingly completely out of it, her cunt is hot, moist, and tight and the squishy internal muscles of her vagina are fluttering and squeezing delightfully around the turgid shaft of his manmeat. The captive girl stirs and moans as she is penetrated, not even knowing or caring who is fucking her, simply responding to the thrilling sensation of getting her cunt fucked for the first time in several days. Although her ass has been used often, her womb has been sadly neglected, and she sighs with womanly contentment as her cunt is fucked, feeling the ringed hood of her super-sensitive clit pressed and agitated against the vinyl of the bench underneath her pelvis as his dick squelches in and out of her and his hips bounce off her upturned buns. Within a few minutes, her hot little box is squeezing and clutching at his pistoning pecker, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as she shudders involuntarily with each stroke that bangs up against her doped-up cervix. In this position he is able to penetrate her more deeply than he ever had before, the head of his cock slamming hard against the backwall of her vagina, and her inability to move just makes the sensation more poignant… it hurts a little the way he fucks her so roughly, but that’s okay…
For his part, Tom goes slowly, relishing the power he has over her. In the past, on those few occasions when they did have sex, she always seemed to be rushing him, as if she were eager to get it over with. Sometimes she would stare up at him as he was fucking her with an expression on her face as if to say…“Are you done yet?” Now he is the one who is in control. It is he who sets the pace, making her quiver inside with every thrust of his dick, her warm and slippery pink slit spasming and milking submissively on his shaft. Steadily, he works her over, making her coo and whinny with delight as he slams his throbbing unit into her harder and faster. The trembling rings of muscle inside her vagina tighten up around him, making him push even harder to force his way, drawing gasps of pained passion from the helplessly cock-crazed blonde as she snaps off the first of a long series of orgasms to come. Yeah… this is more like it, he thinks to himself, enjoying the total dominance he exerts over the whimpering blonde’s slender body. He pulls back and rubs the head of his cock up and down inside her wet slit, teasing her with it, reveling in her eager openness and breathless anticipation…
“Go ahead and take her up the ass…” Slate prompts him as he nurses his drink from his seat on the sidelines. “She loves it that way.” Dubiously, Tom lifts up the head of his dick to probe the entrance to her wrinkled pink rectum, still shining with slippery lubrication. He’s never fucked an ass before, and he’s not sure if he’ll even be able to fit it in there, but he’s sure willing to try…
“Don’t hold back, son…” Slate encourages him… “Just stuff it in there…” The pulse pounds in his temples as he bends to his work, holding the super-stiff shaft of his dick in his fingers to guide it into her rubbery entrance. Much to his surprise, it pops in there easily, Alison’s well-stretched sphincter offering just enough resistance to be exciting. Inch by inch, he drives his pulsating shaft up into her weakly-clutching butt hole, almost swooning with pleasure when he feels the entire length of it encased in her hot squirmy bowels.
Alison pants with exertion as once more her rectum is forced to adjust to the presence of a hot male intruder, pushing back involuntarily with her inner bowels to ease the pressure and stretching of her delicate interior walls. When he feels her innards working on the head of his throbbing twitching cock the clean-cut young accountant goes wild with lust, seeing red as he starts pumping into her with all his strength, giving her the length of it… He grabs her hips with both of his hands, forcing her down on it as he drives his dick up her ass like a pile driver, fucking her savagely now… His hairy lower belly slaps up against her lacerated buns with a wet smacking sound as he reams her out furiously, with all the pent up frustration and rage accumulated through months of her teasing manipulations, making her pay with her ass for all the grief she caused him. Alison can do nothing but lie there and take it… her belly quaking with the force of his onslaught as her stiffly erect and excited clit is forced down into the bench she straddles with each pounding stroke, making the little rings in her cunt jingle faintly. Having gone from zero to sixty in such a short time, the girl is having a little difficulty catching up, but she’s getting there… The massive dose of drugs still working up inside her has made a heated heaven in her ass and she can’t imagine anything more delightful and rewarding than the feeling she’s getting now as his hot hard dick pounds inside her there. She moans and blubbers, tossing her head around as she feels herself opening for him obediently, his dick slipping easily in and out of her now with increasing speed and driving impact. A storm is gathering in the pit of her stomach, a tight coil of tension that begs to be released… Suddenly she feels the hot spurt of his sperm shooting deep in her spasming ass guts, soothing the burning rawness of her inner walls and bathing the insides of her bowels with warmth. That’s all the captive and utterly dominated blonde needs to tip her over the edge, her buttocks suddenly coming alive as they clench and flutter around her ex-boyfriend’s slimy shaft, milking the come from his balls with her spasmodically sucking rectum as she writhes and shudders in blissful torment. Her face scrunches up and an animalistic groaning cry escapes from her trembling pink lips as she comes and comes, a mind warping deep anal orgasm that seems to go on and on forever…
“See what I mean?” Slate comments to the sweat-drenched young man as he leans over the doped-up blonde, trying to catch his breath. His still-softening cock is still clutched tightly in Alison’s pulsating throbbing rear. “She loves it that way… deep and hard up the ass. She needs it like she needs air to breathe. The injections and the bondage and discipline just make it more exciting for her. Now if you’ve finished, how about letting an old hand take over?” He turns to Fiona, barking out commands… “Get your slutty little ass over here and put your lips around my pecker… I need a good hard dick for rectal reaming. Then when you’ve finished you can give little Alison here a nice tongue bath and clean all that nasty sperm off her cunt and ass for me. If you do a good job I might even let Tom here give you a good fucking… that is if he can still get it up,” “But Boss…” the stacked little brunette starts to protest… the prospect of licking up all that congealed come and ass goo is not an appetizing one. Slate silences her with a stony look, his eyes narrowing as his face darkens… There’s only one Master in this house.
“You know, Fiona, you shouldn’t let the fact that I’ve put you in charge of Alison’s training during the day give you delusions of grandeur…” Slate announces in a menacing monotone. “You’re really no better than she is… just a dirty fucking whore. Maybe I’ve been neglecting to put you in your place lately. Do you think I’m not aware of the little sums of money you’ve been squirreling away from the household accounts…the foolish little plans you have made to run away with my chauffeur Tony? I let you get away with these minor transgressions and think that you could sidestep me for some time but now my patience is at an end…” With these words he presses a little beeper he carries on his belt, similar to the one Fiona herself has worn. In a matter of seconds, two of Slate’s anonymous bodyguard/goons are at the door, letting themselves in with a passkey and bursting into the room with guns drawn. “What’s the trouble, boss…?” one of the cheaply-suited leg breakers asks breathlessly, huffing and puffing. He had been sitting there down the hall in another apartment playing poker with a couple of the other guys and actually winning a few hands for a change when he suddenly had to jump up and come running…
“No big deal… you can put your irons away. Just grab that little brunette tramp over there for me and put some cuffs on her… Smack her around a little if she gets too feisty.” Fiona crouches tensely, thinking for a moment of making a run for it, but they are upon her like a ton of bricks before she can figure out which way to jump. Both of these guys are seasoned pros, trained in the corrections department and then recruited by Slate. If they can rush into a cell and subdue an unruly prisoner with life to serve and nothing left to lose then getting control of a hundred twenty pound woman is no challenge at all. In less time than it takes to tell it they have the stacked little brunette face down on the carpet with her hands cuffed behind her. “You want we should take her to the interrogation room?” one of the musclebound lunks asks his boss as they roughly pull her to her feet and turn her to face him. “Nah… just cut the clothes off her and fasten her to the post over there. Then get outta here…I’ll interrogate her myself.” their grey-haired superior instructs.
Fiona is stunned at the speed with which her status has changed and she’s not the kind to give up without a struggle… she thrashes around and tries to kick her captors with her high heeled boots. She is genuinely frightened of what Slate might want to do with her, especially after having discovered her with her hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. She worries what might have become of Tony, what he might have said… Things could get ugly around here. One of the goons holds her arms behind her as the other one steps up and slaps her face hard, once, twice, three times… “Quiet down you little hellcat, or I’ll slap you silly…” the hulking bully warns her, reaching down into an ankle sheath to pull out a long heavy knife like a bayonet. Fiona is stunned, tears springing to her eyes as she is bitch-slapped, and some of the fight seems to drain out of her. She stands there sniveling as the two men roughly cut and strip the black catsuit and underwear off her, leaving her standing there in just her black high-heeled ankle boots. Slate walks up to her and snaps a collar around her neck, which they use to chain her to the post, much as Alison had been. Now that the young woman has been properly subdued, the two bouncer types reluctantly take their leave, casting many a backward glance at the brunette’s trimmed little pussy and magnificent knockers. Young Tom stands aside, more or less along for the ride. He can’t say he really gives a shit what happens to Fiona. He never liked that skanky bitch much anyway…
Standing there naked at the post, Fiona squirms uneasily, knowing enough about her employer and his mood swings to not want to get into any more trouble. Her devious little mind is already looking for ways to cut her losses, but she doesn’t realize the game is already over. Her fate has already been decided. Six months from now she will be chained to the bed in some sweaty Mexican brothel, taking on all comers for a handful of pesos. Slate has grown displeased and tired of her and will soon make sure she disappears off the face of the earth. But he intends to make her suffer first… break her down with a combination of pain and pleasure until she is a mindless slave. He sees the two bodyguards out, then comes over and takes her chin in his hand, making her look him in the eye. She can’t help from trembling as she feels his threatening presence so close by her… In spite of that the tightly-trimmed little delta between her legs is starting to moisten. It’s no secret that she likes it rough. But things are going to get rougher than she ever imagined.
“Where’s that plug you took out of Alison?” the angry executive demands… “I think I want to see you wearing it for a while…” “I, uh… I put it in the sink to be washed…” the cowed brunette reluctantly replies, knowing that to prevaricate would no doubt only bring on another slapping. She can taste a little blood in her mouth and her lips are bruised, but secretly she’s even a little bit pleased and excited to be getting the Boss’ attention. After a week of nursemaiding her blonde roommate around and seeing her get all the action, the kinky little brunette is feeling a little jealous and passed-over. Nobody loves to fuck more than she does…
“I think that now that Spider is done with Alison, I’m going to have him do some work on you…” Slate announces. “Starting tomorrow, you will be shaved and pierced. Your days as mistress of this house are over. I can see now that you will need more training and supervision, and I intend to make sure that you get it…” Fiona stands there silently, awash with mixed emotions. She knows what training and supervision means. Meanwhile, Slate stalks off to the other room. He returns with the fifteen inch butt plug in one hand and a leather whip in the other. He demandins that Fiona choose one or the other. It really doesn’t matter much. Sooner or later she is going to get both. Still, she nods at the butt plug. In this angry mood Slate might just whip the skin off her. Slate unfastens her neck from the post, forcing her back down onto the carpet with her face down and her ass up, her cuffed hands up behind her back so half her weight is resting on her face and she’s eating dirt. Roughly he kicks her in the ass, making her raise it higher… higher…
“You know, maybe we should have Alison punish YOUR ass for a change…” Slate threatens. “After all, it would only be fair. Too bad she’s otherwise occupied right now. But tomorrow… yes, tomorrow…I bet she’d relish the chance to get even with you, and I’d enjoy watching it, too. After all, you betrayed her totally. You’ve been walking around here feeling so smug and superior… wait until you feel Spider’s needles up YOUR ass, piercing YOUR hot little cunt, you nasty junkie bitch…”
With these stinging words, Slate starts screwing the thick head of the black rubber dildo forcefully into his erstwhile personal assistant’s fleshy backside, holding her face down with his other hand as he grabs her by the back of the neck. Fortunately for the brunette the rubbery butt stretcher is still coated with a thin layer of lube from its earlier use. He is not being gentle, and Fiona grunts and whimpers as he pops the fat head of the thing past her tightly-stretched sphincters and four or five inches up into her ass. It’s been a while since she’s had anything this big and thick up there, and it hurts… Silently she thanks god she made herself a fix not too long before Slate showed up. Otherwise the pain would be unbearable. She can still remember the last time he fucked her there, lying on her belly with teary eyes as his super-massive dick pumped her ass full of hot come… she shivers with anxiety and anticipation. Things are going to be different now…
Slate had used her as a sort of bait… Alison was not the first young woman to be lured into the apartment and exploited, once their weaknesses were discovered. Every week the same ad appeared in the newspaper for a surprisingly well-paying receptionist job. Fiona interviewed the applicants, and chose only the prettiest. After a few weeks on the job, she would make an effort to befriend these carefully chosen girls, ones who had no ties, ones who displayed certain personality traits… ones who in Slate’s judgement could be easily broken. Once they moved into the apartment, they suddenly stopped coming to work. No one missed them, any more than anyone will really miss Fiona… Slate had put up with her duplicitous nature and outspoken manners for a year or more as long as she served his purposes, served his needs, and he allowed her a great deal of latitude, but now he has grown weary of her scheming and her loud mouth. She will have to be replaced. Her very street-tough attitude, which once amused him, is now starting to get on his nerves.
Unlike Alison, Fiona is very much aware of the darker side of life and sex and has had a good deal of experience walking both sides of the street. She’s been a dancer, a call girl, sold her body and hung out with all kinds of junkies, thugs and gangsters …As much as she has enjoyed bossing Alison around, she also has shown a penchant for the kind of dangerous and sociopathic types who would smack her around a little. Then when she met Slate he took her to a whole other level. His power was awesome…She was grateful for the lucrative job he gave her, the penthouse apartment he set her up in, and happy to provide him with whatever sexual favors he required, content to play her role and fuck around with whoever she wanted on the side. Too bad that wasn’t enough for her. She started setting up a little retirement fund for herself on the side. Actually, to a man like Slate the sums involved were insignificant… he might spend that much in one night taking a group of associates to a nightclub. That is, if anyone ever had the nerve to make him pay his tab. It’s the principle of the thing. He can’t even honestly say he is disappointed. He never realty expected any better. But she has betrayed him, and for her disloyalty she will have to pay…
With these thoughts in mind, Slate grimly shoves another five inches of rubber dick up the whimpering brunette’s tightly-stretched asshole. She’s going to take it all now and like it. For Fiona, the best thing to do at this point is simply to try to relax and go with it. She does her best to make room inside herself, feeling her ass guts shifting around to ease the pressure… Relentlessly he keeps screwing the thing into her an inch at a time until it’s poking all the way up into her belly somewhere and her still-shocked sphincter is struggling to grip it around the flanged base. He fastens a wide leather belt around her waist and hooks the butt plug to it tightly by the little chains. Fiona’s womanly ass is now so stuffed she can feel her eyes bulging out of their sockets where her face is pressed into the carpeted floor. “Now blow me, you two-faced little bitch…” he commands, pulling her head up by the hair so that she is kneeling before him with her hands fastened behind her back and her face is pressed into his expensively-trousered crotch. He reaches down with his other hand and unzips his fly, fishing out his half-erect and thickly swollen manmeat.
“Yes sir, Mister Slate…” Fiona murmurs subserviently, her cuffed hands squirming behind her back as she feels the impaling presence of fifteen inches of thick rubber dildo up her ass, powerless to take it out. The very fact of her helplessness seems to make her chubby little pussy drip with honey, despite her very valid fears about her future. Although she’s not fat, she is very well rounded and two or three inches shorter than Alison. Where the blonde is long and willowy, Fiona is built like the proverbial ceramic defecatorium, packed solid with hot meat. Her tits are huge, like 44DDs, although they exhibit not a trace of sag. Her hips are wide and womanly, her thighs lushly tapering to trim ankles and small, delicate feet. Her long black hair is thick and wavy, her mouth wide and generous, her eyes dark and brooding, looking now like those of a hurt child as she slavishly locks her red-painted lips around her Master’s hard cock, struggling to accept its length into the back of her throat. She leans forward and straightens out her neck, knowing how he likes her to suck him, tears pouring down her cheeks and running her mascara as she gags on it repeatedly. But if she thinks she’s going to get off the hook with this little display of submission she is sadly deluded. “You fucking bitch…” Slate curses her out as he fucks her face, holding her by the ears so he can ram his dick into her gullet more forcefully…”I’ll show you who’s the boss around here… Now get over there and lick out Alison’s asshole and don’t give me any more of your shit or I’ll take my whip to your ass. Go on… crawl over there on your knees…” he demands angrily, pulling his now-rigid pecker from her mouth with a pop, dripping her saliva down over her tits.
In the space of fifteen minutes, Fiona has gone from being a full-rigged dominant bitch to a scared and anxiously obedient little sex slave. Ruefully, the brunette admits to herself that she finds her new role much more exciting, in a rather different way, although she is apprehensive about what new sacrifices that may entail as she awkwardly knee-walks over to the bondage bench where Alison is still strapped down on her belly, her swollen and abused rectum still oozing with semen.
“You see what I mean…” Slate remarks to Tom, who has been sitting on the sidelines sipping his drink and trying to recover his strength. “You’ve got to constantly put these bitches in their place… otherwise they start getting ideas.” Roughly he pushes
Fiona’s face into the crack of Alison’s strapped and welted ass. The newly-humbled brunette has reason to be glad of the enema she administered to her blonde roommate earlier that day. At least there’s nothing but jism and a little bit of lube dripping from the hairless pink asshole in front of her. Hesitantly, she reaches out with her pointy pink tongue… “G’wan get in there…” Slate orders her nastily, cuffing her on the back of the head. Sighing inwardly, Fiona gets busy, polishing up the bound blonde’s anus with her tongue like a guy waxing his new Porche with a chamois, twirling it around there and swallowing down the bitter fishy-tasting come that continues to dribble out of the other girl’s twitching and rapidly awakening rectal entrance. Alison moans, her clit and pussy coming back to life as she responds with pleasure to this dedicated rim-job. She’s certainly never felt anything like this before and she kind of likes it. As a matter of fact she finds it so exciting that she farts right in Fiona’s face.
Slate and Tom, who had been watching all this intently, laugh uproariously at this. The hot little brunette sits back on her heels, her lips nose and chin dripping with secretions, humiliated beyond belief, wishing she could sink into the floor. Alison’s shapely rear is now as clean as a whistle and shining with her spittle. Slate commands the brunette to get up and takes her by the arm, marching her back over to the whipping post. The smart-mouthed little chippie has nothing to say now, stumbling awkwardly with all that rubber dick stuck up her ass. Slate pushes her along roughly, taking her cuffed hands from behind her back and refastening them to the ominous black post high up over her head. He turns the petite brunette around so that she is facing the pillar and straps her waist to it tightly. He steps back a few feet, unlimbering the black leather whip which he had stuck in his belt and rolling up his sleeve…
“But Boss… I did what you said… I…” SSSWACCCKKK! The thin whip lands across Fiona’s rump with a report like a rifle shot, instantly cutting off her whining protests and raising a line of sizzling fire in its wake. Fiona shrieks in shock and pain, realizing that she is going to get her ass whipped no matter what she does or says. She had forgotten just how much it hurts. Even though the idea of it held a certain naughty excitement, the reality is now more painful than she could have imagined. Too bad… SSSWACCCKKK! No sooner do her screams begin to subside then Slate lays on another, then another, the lash cutting into her soft ass flesh savagely, opening wounds that will take a week to heal, marking her for all time with thin white scars. Not that she didn’t have a few already. SSSWACCCKKK! SSSWACCCKKK! SSSWACCCKKK! By the tenth and final blow Fiona is sobbing and blubbering continuously, her backside a burning agony. “Do you think you’re ready to obey me now, you stinking piece of shit?” Slate demands angrily. “Yes sir… Yes sir, Mister Slate…” she snivels brokenly, her hefty bosom shaking with sobs.
“That’s better…” Slate remarks flatly, unstrapping her waist from the whipping post and pulling her cuffed hands down to fasten them to another ring mounted in the pillar at waist level. He grabs the brunette by the hips and pulls her back a couple of steps so that she is forced to bend over at the waist and stick her whipped and plugged ass out, kicking her legs apart and revealing her plump little slit peeking out from underneath. The sniffling woman is doubled over at the waist, supporting the weight of her upper body by her cuffed hands. “C’mon over here and try out some of this fat little pussy, Tom. You’ll find it amazingly tight with that big plug stuffed up her ass. Go ahead and fuck this little bitch like the pig she is.” He turns to the girl at the post… “Oink for him, Fiona… Beg him to fuck your piggy little pussy…” he orders her harshly.
“Oink! Oink! Oink!” the degraded former dominant is forced to grunt, her tear-streaked face burning almost as hot as her ass with shame and humiliation. “Oink! Oink! Oink!… Please Mister Tom, fuck me in my piggy little pussy…” The good-looking young man finds that he is happy to oblige. He’s actually pleased to see her get taken down a peg or two, after witnessing the smug and sarcastic way she seemed to relish her roommate’s punishment.
Serves her right, the bitch, he thinks as he fists his hard hairy member and steps up to Fiona’s severely whipped rump. He rubs it up and down the slit between her legs from behind, working it in between her lips. In spite of the beating she has just received, she is hot and wet inside.
Without further preamble he stuffs his throbbing pecker to the hilt in her upside-down cunt, his belly slapping up against her welted ass cheeks and the base of the butt plug that fills her rear. He can feel the monumental proportions of the thing through the thin wall that separates her rectum and vagina, rubbing against his dick as he thrusts in and out of the bent-over brunette. Slate is certainly right about one thing… it makes her pussy wonderfully tight. Like a teen-aged virgin with her first cock instead of a fucked-out whore who could probably take his arm up there. Of course, the same thing is true for Fiona…the ass-filling presence of the gigantic plug transforming the routine act of fucking into an exciting challenge as she struggles to accommodate the twin phalluses moving within her, bucking back with her fleshy hips to take it harder and deeper. After the painful whipping she has just endured, the best she can do is console herself with a good come, and she’s going after it. Her hot little box spasms and creams around the junior accountant’s rapidly pistoning fuckrod as she pants and moans like an alley cat in heat.
Meanwhile, Alison is still lying there face-down on the bondage bench in a happily drugged-out sexual dreamworld. It pleases her beyond measure to hear the sharp report of the whip falling on her faithless friend’s meaty ass cheeks. Fiona’s cries of pain are music to her ears. After a week of being teased and tormented by her former roommate, there’s nothing that gives her more pleasure than to see the smug smile being wiped from her Mistress’ face, replaced by a look of anxiety and helplessness. She just wishes Fiona didn’t actually enjoy being fucked and dominated quite so much… she’d like to see her suffer more. She can’t wait until Spider gets his hands on her with his wicked needles. Let her feel what it feels like to have her whorish little pussy and tits pierced…
Of course, none of this improves Alison’s situation one iota. She is still just as thoroughly enslaved as she was an hour earlier. Still fucked, to put it succinctly. A fact once more brought home to her as Slate comes over and lays his hands down upon her helpless tush, holding her buttocks apart to rub his the head of his economy-sized dick up and down in her saliva-slickened asscrack. Whimpering, Alison buries her face into the padded vinyl underneath her cheek, pressing the ringed hood of her clit down onto the bench between her legs, knowing what comes next, getting herself ready to take his massive thickness up her ass once again as she has every night since day one of her captivity. She does her best to make it easy for him, and incidentally for herself as well, pushing back obediently to help get the fat head of his cock inside. In spite of the way she has already been opened and the massive dose of drugs that still fills her inner bowels and womb with glowing warmth it’s still brings a tear to her eye when the massive head of his dork pops inside, stretching her delicate anal ring as tight as a bowstring around it. Still, she wants to take it, needs to take it deeper inside, to feel Him possess her completely. The heady combination of stimulants and hypnotics that suffuse her mind and her throbbing sex organs have her quivering and melting around his sodomizing dick as he forces his way deeper into her bowels, tearing at her inner walls and making her bleed inside…
“Ohhhh Godddd…” the blonde moans as she humps her pierced and pulsating clit shamelessly against the bench beneath her, restrained by the straps around her waist and legs so that she can only move in tiny little circles. She forgets all about Fiona, or indeed about anything else other than the overwhelming sensation of Slate’s penetrating manmeat driving to the hilt in her girlish ass. His hairy belly bumps up against her recently strapped and still achingly sore buttocks as he pushes aside all resistance, forcing her inner bowels to straighten and stretch to make room for him. Slate leans over to growl in her ear… “Hello little fuckslut… did you miss me?”
“Ohhhhh… Ooooohhh… Yes, Master…” the anally-penetrated blonde admits subserviently. “OOOOHHHH…I missed you inside me… UNGHHHHH… I missed you up my ass… OHHHHHH…Please, please fuck me harder… OOOOHHHH… Yes, make it hurt… Oh God make it hurt… UNHHH… UNHHHHH… UNHHHH… UGHHHHH…” The middle-aged construction exec pounds his hot hairy dick into the depths of her sweetly receptive rectum with overwhelming power and speed, driving all further thoughts or speech right out of her, reducing her to a helplessly spasming mass of orgasmic protoplasm as his pile-driving pecker pounds her bowels into jello. She gasps and grunts loudly, her eyes closed and her mouth open, lost completely in a cunty world of submissive bliss as she surrenders herself totally to his rampaging cock up her ass. “UHKKK… UHKKK… UHKKK… she gasps thickly as her belly tightens up and coils around him, shaking with tension. Almost there… almost there… The more excited she gets, the tighter her spasmodically clutching bowels grip him, the more thrilling resistance they provide as he goes at her harder and faster, harder and faster, battering her drug-injected innards with the head of his mammoth cock. Slate can feel his baseball-sized nuts tightening up, getting ready to shoot his load…
“EEEEEEEEEKKKK…. EEEEEEEWWWWWWW… Alison shrieks as her spastically quivering rectum clamps down on him like the mouth of a lamprey, wringing out his dick and sucking the come from his balls like a vacuum cleaner, her whole body shaking and rigid as she comes deep in her ass… deep in her ass… Slate’s twitching throbbing member spurts jet after jet of hot scalding jism into the depths of her bowels to bathe her insides with glowing heat. Slowly, she begins to relax around him, her hips still making little circles within the tight bonds of the straps that bind her as his massive cock begins to soften and deflate within her and she moans and sobs in subservient and masochistic delight. “Ohhhhh Master…” she whimpers breathlessly… “Ohhhh Master I love you so much… Oooohhhh… No one fucks me the way that you do…. Ohhhhh…” Slate rests both his palms on her reddened and strapped ass cheeks, still twitching in afterglow, smirking to himself in satisfaction. He looks down at the pink membranes of her asshole still squeezing lovingly around the thick shaft of his hairy dick. A thin trickle of blood runs down into the crack of her pussy from the wounds he has opened inside her. He’s got this one trained all right. Now to put her girlish ass to work, and Fiona’s too…
Starting tomorrow, he’s going to start sending a steady stream of clients over here to use them. But first he’s got to make some arrangements for their supervision. Obviously, given Fiona’s new status someone else will have to take over the running of the apartment to enforce discipline and keep the two women to the rigid training schedule he has planned. Someone strict enough to keep their asses in line. One of the hooded enforcers from the Caligula Club would be ideal. He resolves to call up the Judge and borrow one of his “correction officers” for a while. Not that his own men aren’t physically up to the task, but they lack the proper mentality. They’re good enough for breaking heads, but not for the more delicate task of training slave girls and administering punishment without actually injuring them too severely. Not only that, but they’re not all that bright…a slick little bitch like Fiona could wind up turning the tables and manipulating them. It requires a fine balance of drugs, terror, pain and sexual reward to keep his little submissives always quivering in fearful anticipation and wet between their legs. You’ve got to play them like a fucking violin. That’s why he’s the Master.
Meanwhile, across the room Tom is finally getting ready to pop his nuts inside the clutching cunt of the humbled brunette bent down before him. After shooting his wad up Alison’s ass, it has taken him a while to build up steam again, slowly fucking Fiona out of her mind for the last twenty minutes or so. As for her, she has lost count of how many times she has come already. Her fat little pussy has been snapping off orgasms every few minutes or so under his relentless drubbing, helped along by the knowledge that tonight is only a foretaste of things to come. She feels the implacable grip of the collar around her neck, the cuffs on her wrists, thrilling in her helplessness… she knows she is going to get fucked a lot from now on, and she’s excited at the prospect. She bucks her hips back wildly on his driving dick as it twitches and jerks around inside her, spurting its hot scummy load into the mouth of her anxiously receptive womb, shivering and shuddering with subservient delight.
Oh god she missed this… she’s such a whore, she thinks to herself dreamily, feeling the burning sting of the lashes across her butt, her stretched-out asshole felching around the huge phallus locked up her behind. As much fun as she has had tormenting Alison, she realizes she’d still rather actually be in her place, back where she belongs, tied up tightly with a big dick pounding inside her. She feels a rush of love and compassion for her roommate… they’ll be sisters now. Sisters in slavery, shivering in the same mix of anguished fear and desire. She can’t wait to express her newfound sense of sharing and caring with the blonde she betrayed and helped to train… Of course, it may take Alison a while to overcome her resentment. No doubt she will have to absorb some of the same kind of abuse she has been dishing out, but she accepts the justice in that. If anything, she’s eager to make it up to her, to prove she’s really not such an evil bitch as she might have seemed. She just got a little carried away with her role, that’s all. Now that she’s back in chains her disposition is all softness and giving. Even her face has lost its hard and cynical cast and looks openly vulnerable and girlishly appealing. She has gone from a wisecracking foulmouthed little skank to docile and obedient sex slave in just under an hour, proving that the submissive side of her personality was always there just under the surface…
This transformation is not lost on Slate, who finally pulls himself out of Alison’s swollen and trembling rectum and walks over to her to cup her chin in his hand, forcing her to look up at him with Tom’s semi-hard dick still buried in her pussy. The brunette’s soft dark brown eyes are wide and imploring, her full lips trembling… “You needed that whipping, didn’t you, Fiona?” he demands harshly. “You needed to be put back in chains, didn’t you, you cock-hungry little slut?” “Yes, Mister Slate… thank you Mister Slate…” the stacked little trollop admits, perhaps a little too readily. She knows the script too well. He’ll have to be careful with this one… for her lying comes as naturally as breathing. “You can thank me with your tongue…” the hard-faced older man tells her. “Now lick me clean.”
Fiona lowers her eyes, opening her mouth obediently as her boss thrusts his blood and slime-encrusted member between her lips, sucking and licking it like a little girl with a favorite lollypop until it is shining clean and free of all traces of Slate’s semen and her roommate’s smelly anal mucosa, swallowing every drop as she knows she should. Disappointedly, she feels Tom’s now limp dick pop out of her pussy with a gush of come that drips down the insides of her thighs. “Don’t worry…” Slate informs her, “You’ll get plenty of more cocks tomorrow. I’m going to have Leroy bring some of his gang-banging homies over after Spider gets done with you. You girls will be entertaining the Vice Lords for the afternoon. At least ten or so of its more senior members… no doubt they will keep you occupied. In the meantime, I’m going to call the Judge to send someone over to tuck you girls in and keep an eye on you. It’s time for me and young Tom here to call it a night. Some of us have to go to work in the morning…” he says sarcastically, tucking his now spotless dick back into his expensive Italian wool trousers and fishing out his cellular phone. Tom goes off to the bathroom to freshen up and straighten out his clothing as Slate hits the speed-dial and murmurs a few quick instructions into the phone. “Wait till I tell the guys at the office about this…” Tom sniggers gleefully. I’m sure it will cheer them up to know that while they’re busy working the ice queen here and her slutty roommate will be getting their highfalutin’ asses reamed out by a bunch of Afro-American juvenile delinquents. I’d give a weeks pay to have that on tape…” “No sweat,” Slate assures him, “You can have it for free.”
Alison’s belly quakes with fear at the thought of once again having to face the big evil black motherfucker who raped her in the elevator back at the beginning of our tale. She can scarcely imagine what ten of them would be like. Tomorrow is going to be a rough day… she can only hope they give her enough drugs to make it bearable. The sound of the toilet flushing as Tom relieves himself reminds her of her own burning need. “Please, Master…” she begs Slate meekly, “Can I go to the bathroom now? I’m afraid I’m going to wet myself…” “All right, Alison…” Slate allows. “Take Fiona with you and clean that stale come out of her pussy. Give her a good douche but leave the plug up her ass. I’d like her to wear it for another hour or two. I want you two to be clean inside and out by the time your new supervisor arrives in a half hour or so. That should give you plenty of time to do what you have to do. Don’t forget to fix your faces. After that you can get the two of you something to drink and wait on the couch… Do you think you can manage that?”
“I… I guess so, Master…” Alison answers subserviently as he unbuckles the straps that hold her to the bench, finally unclipping her cuffed hands from up there over her head. The tightly-corseted and booted blonde stretches gratefully and struggles to sit herself up, stiff and cramped from spending an hour or more locked in the same humiliating position, down on her belly with her butt up in the air. After a few moments, the circulation starts to return to her arms and legs, allowing her to move somewhat more freely, although her hands still remain cuffed in front of her. Meanwhile, Slate walks over to the whipping post, unfastening Fiona’s hands from the pillar and clipping them to the collar around her neck, taking the leash that had been used to lead Alison around and fastening it to the brunette’s collar. Fiona stands there looking downcast with streaks of rapidly-cooling come dripping down her legs from her well-fucked pussy, silent and docile as a lamb. “Come along, Fiona…” her blonde roommate instructs her with a calculating smile, taking the leash from Slate’s hand and jerking it sharply. “We have a lot of catching up to do…”
Alison drags the brunette along behind her by the leash, walking a little more assuredly in the ultra-high heels of her black rubber boots. Fiona has a rather more difficult time of it, with the fifteen inch dildo still stuffed up her ass it is difficult to walk at all. This pleases Alison, who knows the feeling all too well. She walks the other girl into the bathroom, shutting the door with a menacing look on her fine-boned oval face. “Now that I’ve got you alone there’s a few things we better get straight…” the blonde declares. She reaches down with her cuffed hands to seize Fiona’s cunt with her long-taloned fingers, twisting and pinching her pussylips viciously between her nails. The brunette winces and grits her teeth, doing her best not to scream, her throat working in anguish. “From now on you’re the one who is going to be dancing to MY tune…” Alison hisses in a low monotone. “You’re the one who will be kissing MY ass and licking the piss from MY pussy. You got that, you lying deceiving sick junkie whore?” She punctuates each word with another savage pinch of her sharp laquered nails on Fiona’s most tender parts, making tears spring to the dark-haired young woman’s eyes as she stifles her sobs.
“Yesss… Yes, Alison…I understand…” the tormented former domme admits, “But can’t we just be friends? After all, we’re not really so different, you and me…” “Maybe some day,” Alison replies, “But for now you owe me a lot of payback, and I intend to collect in full, with interest! I just hope I get a chance to whip YOUR pussy… I’ll make you scream till you’re hoarse. Now get down on your knees, you bitch, or I’ll twist your clit off… Don’t think I won’t. I’ll pinch it till it bleeds…”
Back in the living room, Slate has readjusted the closed-circuit television to monitor the scene in the bathroom and is now seated on the couch finishing up his scotch and observing this interchange as he waits. Tom has already gone. It amuses him to set these two bitches off against each other, manipulating the situation so that they are driven to punish and humiliate each other even when there is no one else around. Every sadomasochistic act that passes between them just draws them both deeper into a never-ending cycle of dominance and submission, ecstasy and punishment, keeping them both that much more psyched-up and obsessed. Of course, the flip side of that is that a strong lesbian relationship is beginning to develop between them, bound together by shared pain and sluttish arousal at their constant regimen of sexual torment. No doubt they’ll be licking each other’s pussies whenever they’re not busy punishing each other or attending to the needs of men.
As if on cue, Alison rises from the toilet where she has been relieving herself, striding over to the still-kneeling Fiona there on the tiled bathroom floor. “Now get your tongue in there and lick it…” the blonde demands, her shaved and ringed pussy dripping with the urine she hasn’t bothered to wipe from her lips. Silently, Fiona leans her head back and opens her mouth, allowing the other girl to squat down above her and grind her pussy into her face. She knows the drill. Her tongue dances over the slender blonde’s pink interior membranes, tickling the underside of her extra-sensitive ringed clit… Alison’s face screws up in concentration as her belly quivers with mounting tension. A sudden sharp tremor runs through her as she grabs her roommate by her long curly black hair, pulling her face up hard into her crotch, mashing herself down on the other girl’s nose and subserviently sucking and licking mouth. “UNGHHH! UNGHHHH!” Alison grunts as she comes, a quick hard clitoral orgasm, smearing Fiona’s face with her wet secretions.
“There…” the blond says after pausing to catch her breath. “Now that we’ve gotten that over with, let’s get your slimy little pussy cleaned out. Get down there and squat over the toilet, you tramp. Your pussy is so filthy, we better use extra hot water and plenty of disinfectant. Ugh… I can smell it from across the room.” With these words she fills the big red douchebag to the rim with streaming scalding hot water, so hot that she can barely stand to put her fingers in it for a few seconds. She empties a good half-cup of disinfectant cleanser in there, then caps it up and hangs it from a hook on the wall over the toilet. At the end of the hose is a thick penis-shaped plastic nozzle about six inches long and an inch thick. Once she has the humbled brunette positioned properly, half squatting, half standing over the toilet, she rams the nozzle straight up Fiona’s dark-tufted twat, releasing the clamp on the hose to let the water flow into her. Fiona’s face turns red and she wiggles her hips around uneasily as she feels the burning hot water filling her cunt and splashing out of her scalded vagina into the bowl beneath her...
“P… Please… Please, Alison… not so hot…” the uncomfortable brunette pleads forlornly, squirming around on the toilet seat to try to free herself from the burning probe inside her. This just makes Alison ram it up there harder. “Shut the fuck up…” her blonde tormentor replies acidly. “You’ll take it and like it, or I’ll make you do it again and again until you get it right.” Fiona bites her lip, resolved now to suffer in silence, just as Alison intended. Finally it is over, the whole two quarts of nearly boiling solution emptied inside the brunette washing out all traces of Tom’s come, leaving her fresh as a spring morning. The whole inside of her pussy is tingling with burning soreness. Alison stands her up and fastens her leash to a hook on the wall, leaving her standing there as she takes her place on the commode.
Gingerly, the tightly corseted blonde cleanses herself with a second enema bag, this one filled with a soothingly warm solution, rinsing the remnants of her Master’s come out of her achingly sore rectum. She notices with some distress that the water that flows out of her into the bowl is faintly tinged with pink. When oh when will she become accustomed to his mammoth size, so that he can take her that way without making her bleed? She can only hope that it gets easier with time. She knows he intends to make sure she gets lots of proctice. The sodomized slave girl has to admit that already she is able to open herself more readily and somewhat less painfully as a result of the repeated daily penetrations she has been forced to endure. Certainly the orgasms she has experienced in response to having her delicate ass reamed out have been shattering… more totally overwhelming than anything she had ever dreamed of, taking her to a magical world of submissive bliss she never even imagined existed. Maybe if it didn’t hurt so much, if she didn’t have to struggle so much to take it, then it wouldn’t feel so good, she admits. She just knows that she never feels so lusciously feminine, so responsive and dominated as when her Master’s big dick is pounding up her ass. If a little pain, a little blood, is the price she has to pay then she is more than willing to endure it.
Carefully and awkwardly with her cuffed hands she wipes her swollen and distended anal entrance, finally rising up and flushing the mess down the toilet. Her strapped ass is still glowing as red as a fire engine. She goes over to the mirror and touches up her face, then does the same for Fiona, who just stands there blankly staring into space. At least now she feels somewhat refreshed. Finally, she grabs the brunette’s leash and leads her back to the living room.
“Ahhh… here you are, girls.
And all prettied up to greet your new supervisor. He should be here any
minute.” Slate remarks as they enter the room. “Alison, you can fasten Fiona
back to the post. Let her stand there and wait. Then you can get yourself a
glass of wine or something and have a seat. You’ve been such a good girl you
deserve a little rest. Fastening the brunette back to the whipping post by her
collar, the blonde turns back to her Master. “If it’s all the same to you, sir,
I’d rather stand…” In fact her ass is still burning so bad that she can hardly
stand it. Not only that, but the drugs that she has become dependant on to keep
her calm and ease her pains have started to wear off and her piercings are
starting to throb and burn in a most unpleasant way. She hopes that this guy
who’s coming, whoever he is, will know what to do to ease her distress.
Otherwise it will be a very difficult night, and she doubts if she will even be
able to sleep. Sensing her distress, Slate reassures her. “Don’t worry, Alison…
We’ll take care of you. After all, we want you to be fresh and well rested for
your duties tomorrow…” Suddenly the doorbell chimes, just as the hands of the
clock are approaching
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