Thrilling Rape Fantasies 2

 

 

 

 

                                                     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 ten o’clock as she groggily tries to sit up, brought up short by the chain attached to her collar. That and the throbbing ache of the rings and shafts piercing her sex flesh remind her instantly of who and what she has become. She can hear Fiona moving around the apartment outside her bedroom, and smell the coffee already made. More than anything she just wants to be left alone for a while. Although it has been less than a week since the beginning of her enslavement, it seems like a lifetime ago already that she was getting up to go to the office, thinking of nothing more sinister than where she would go shopping on her lunch hour. The thought makes her feel very sorry for herself, but the burning need to urinate impels her to call out for her snake-in-the-grass roommate and new mistress, knowing that another day of servitude is just beginning. “Mistress… Mistress Fiona… Please come… I have to uh you know go to the toilet… Please hurry…” she calls out loudly, swallowing what’s left of her pride.

 

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.