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Author's Note: Special thanks to Tiffany Minx for inspiration and feedback. Feel free to let her know what you'd like to have happen to her in the next part... contact her at email@example.com
Chapter 1: Little White Lies
Tiffany McKinney sighed and brushed her long red hair out of her eyes as she finished her cup of coffee and returned to her work. It was late in the day on Friday and the rest of the staff had left long ago, but she was still here putting the finishing touches on her presentation to the CFO next week. She took great pride in being the youngest vice president in the history of the company. A combination of hard work, strategic flirting, and backstabbing her competition had put her on the fast track to success and she was reaping the rewards. She opened the slide deck to review her presentation one more time, and banged her desk in frustration. Her presentation was gone!
"Fucking IT department," she thought. "Those assholes can't get anything right. If I ever end up in charge of those dimwits then heads will roll. I'm going to go give them a piece of my mind," she resolved as she stood up and marched down the hall.
Her green suede stilleto heels clicked with determination as she marched down the empty hallway. They matched her tight green pencil skirt and beautiful emerald eyes. On her way to the server room she passed Bill Miller's office. "Ah, the director of IT. The head dimwit. He had better be able to restore my presentation," she thought as she smoothed her ivory colored blouse over her shapely 34D tits. She stepped into his office without knocking. Bill looked up from his computer.
"Ah, Tiffany, I've been expecting you," he said coolly.
The rant she had prepared flew right out of head. What did he mean by that? He answered her confused look.
"I noticed that you and I are the last two folks in the building tonight, so I thought we'd have a little chat. Take a seat," he gestured to the chair in front of his desk.
Tiffany regained her composure. "You know what, Bill, I'm kinda busy right now and one of your fuckwads deleted my presentation for the CFO. So how about you do your little nerd magic and make it come back."
Any guise of friendliness disappeared from Bill's face. "Sit down," he commanded in a voice that was so stern and cold that it startled Tiffany into compliance. She took a seat in front of his desk. She couldn't help but notice that it was set especially low so that he was looking down at her from across the smooth mahogany.
The friendliness returned to Bill's voice. "You know, you'd be surprised what kind of stuff people do on company owned equipment. For some reason people don't seem to realize just how little privacy they have at work. We see the emails they send, the websites they visit, the IM conversations they have. And thanks to my initiative to have webcams installed on every computer we can even see what's happening in every room of the building. Perhaps people know and they don't care. Perhaps they are naive enough to think that their privacy will be respected. Did you know that Chad in accounting looks at cuckold porn every Friday at three o'clock? And Sue in shipping is going through a pretty nasty divorce?"
"Sorry to interrupt, but do you have a fucking point?" Tiffany cut in.
"Yes. Of course. I was just getting to that," he stared directly into her icy, green eyes in a way that sent a shiver down Tiffany's spine. "I know about McGuffin Industries."
The color drained from Tiffany's face. McGuffin Industries was the shell corporation that she indirectly owned in the Cayman Islands. A few years back she realized that the incompetents in accounting spent most of their days with their thumbs up their asses. They wouldn't notice if she padded her budget with some additional expenses that went directly to her shell company. She'd been skimming money for so long and hidden it so cleverly that she figured she'd gotten away with it.
"Embezzlement. Fraud. Tax evasion. I'd say you're going away for at least fifteen to twenty," he continued.
Tiffany tried and failed to hide the quiver in her voice. "So you've brought me here rather than going directly to the feds, clearly you want something. I can cut you in for fifty percent," she offered, already thinking of how she could transition the burden of proof to make it look like he was the ringleader.
"I don't need your money. No, I have something better planned for you. We're going to have some fun." Tiffany shuddered at the implication. Bill continued, "I will meet you tomorrow at 5pm at your place. We will work out the details of our arrangement there. Understand?"
Tiffany swallowed. "Yes, I understand." She got up to leave.
"Tiffany, please make sure not to do anything stupid. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry," he called as she walked out the door.
Tiffany scurried down the hall back to her office. "Fuck this is bad," she thought to herself. "How could I have been so stupid? Stealing the money was so easy, no one had noticed... at least she thought that was the case. Now she had to deal with this guy blackmailing her. He can't be too bad, right? I'm sure he's a reasonable man. I just need to hold on long enough that I can get some leverage on him and turn the tables."
She returned to her office and quickly packed up her things. She noticed that her presentation to the CFO had been restored to her computer. This morning she was an up-and-coming executive, just a few years of hard work away from being named CEO. Now... what? She would be at the mercy of a stranger with an unknown motive.
Chapter 2: Seeing Red
Tiffany paced back and forth in the hallway near her front door. She'd felt anxious all day about Bill coming over. She couldn't eat. She couldn't focus on anything. She had skipped her morning jog. She looked at the clock on the wall. She wasn't sure if she was afraid to see what he wanted or in a hurry to get it over with.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. He had arrived. She opened the door to see Bill wearing an old t-shirt and basketball shorts, carrying a small duffel bag. Glad to see that he dressed for the occasion, she thought sarcastically. Bill invited himself in and took a seat at her kitchen table. He pulled out a stack of papers and a laptop.
"I hope you've taken the day to consider just how fucked you are. I have collected enough bulletproof evidence to pin at least a dozen federal crimes on you," he said patting his laptop. "But I am a reasonable man. You are clearly a hard-working, motivated, and I dare say beautiful, young woman. So let's make a deal."
"What did you have in mind?" Tiffany asked with the perfect pouty damsel in distress look that she had been practicing all day.
"You may keep your career, your friends, your family, your life. But one day each week you belong to me. You will do whatever I say. You will go where I command. You will follow my orders without question. If you disobey, you will be punished. If you break our agreement, then the local district attorney will find a nice pile of evidence piled anonymously on his desk, and the feds will have you in cuffs by the end of the day. Sound good so far?"
Tiffany gulped. This sounded like more than she was expecting, but what choice did she have? "Yes, I understand," she said.
"Now, as a woman of business I'm sure you understand that there are terms and conditions to every agreement. I have spelled them out in this document here," he said, sliding one of the documents towards her. "You will read each one aloud right now, so that you can't say you didn't know about them."
Tiffany grabbed the document and began reading:
"One, I understand that from this point forward I will address Bill Miller only as 'Master' or 'Sir', unless otherwise instructed. I am no longer to be called by my given name in his presence. I am to be known as 'whore', 'slave', 'slut', 'fuck puppet', or whatever other name my master deems appropriate.
Two, I will submit to my master for one day of his choosing each week. During that time I am to follow all instructions to the best of my ability. Any non-compliance will result in punishment.
Three, from this day forward I am forbidden from wearing a bra or panties to work and I will wear a skirt or dress and high heels, unless otherwise instructed. I will report to my master in his office each morning to verify my compliance.
Four, I will give my master control over all my bank, credit, and savings accounts. My master will be put on the deed of my home and may enter at anytime he wants, for any reason."
Tiffany's hand was trembling as she looked up from the document. "Now, wait a minute," she said.
"What? You feel that you should keep your ill begotten gains?" he smiled. "Maybe we should ask the FBI if they feel that's fair. I'm not seeking to rob you. I've already told you that I am not after your money. This is merely to protect myself. Please continue."
Tiffany sighed and resumed reading the document.
"Five, I am a willing, eager, slave slut. I deserve to be punished and humiliated for my crimes.
"Six, I will grant my master access to all my email, social media, text messages, and other communications. My master will install cameras in areas of his choosing in my home. I will not attempt to circumvent his surveillance.
Seven, my master may change the terms of this agreement at any time as he sees fit.
By placing my signature at the bottom of this document I agree to all of the above terms for a period of one year. I may choose to extend the duration of the agreement if I wish (Tiffany scoffed at this). While this agreement is in effect my master will, to the best of his ability, prevent law enforcement from discovering my crimes."
Her voice quivered as she read the last sentence and put the document down. Bill glared at her with the grin of a man who knew he had won. He held out a pen for Tiffany. She grabbed it and leaned over the table to sign.
"This is hardly a legally binding document," she muttered.
"This is hardly a legal situation, I'd say. Besides, I am no lawyer," he replied. "Now, just a few more documents to sign. Bank account ownership, the deed to this fine home you have her; I'll need your spare key, by the way. Let's see, what else... access to your medical records, ability to make medical decisions, power of attorney. No need to read anything, just sign. Don't worry about none of these being notarized. I know a guy who can make this all official for us."
Tiffany wiped a tear from her eye as she leaned over and signed away everything she had accomplished to this point in her life. The gravity of the situation had finally hit her in full force, and left her numb.
"There. That wasn't so hard," he crowed. "I've already taken steps towards my end of the bargain. I cleaned the servers of any evidence of your fraud, as you would have done if you were smart. The only remaining evidence of your crimes is in my possession. If I don't reset my software each day with my passphrase then the evidence will automatically be sent to the CEO, the district attorney, and the FBI. So don't fuck with me because I am dead serious."
Tiffany gulped and fought back further tears.
"Now, enough business," Bill announced, standing up. "Let's have some fun."
Tiffany looked up suddenly. "Tonight?" she asked.
"Yes, of course tonight. I'm here. You're here. You know the rules. You are mine for one day a week," he explained.
"But I'm supposed to have brunch with my friends in the morning. I'm the maid of honor in my friend Jenn's wedding in a few weeks and we're discussing the final preparations."
"Hmm, I guess just this once we'll keep it short. I'll be gone in time for you to make it to brunch. And we'll figure something out for the wedding," he said. "See? I'm not such a bad guy."
He led her upstairs to her bedroom and sat down in a chair. "Something I've been wondering all this time that I have been preparing for our arrangement is just what you are hiding under those fancy business suits that you always wear to the office. Strip."
The last word he commanded so forcefully that it sent a shiver up her spine. Tiffany reached up to undo the buttons on her blouse. Her face flushed as the stranger in her room stared intently at her firm tits and womanly curves. Next she slipped out of her skirt, placing it and the blouse neatly on the dresser. She hesitated, standing there only in her lacy black bra and panties.
"Go on. Let's see what we're working with here," he ordered.
Tiffany reached up and unclasped her bra. Bill nodded approval as her lovely 34D tits spilled out. Next she hooked her thumbs into her lacy black panties and pulled them to the floor.
"I've always wondered if the carpet matched the drapes. I guess I'll have to keep wondering," Bill chuckled as he admired her clean shaven pussy. Tiffany blushed a shade darker. She started shaving her pussy clean back in college for her boyfriend, and had been doing it ever since, even though she was currently between boyfriends.
"If you blush any more then your face will match that lovely red hair of yours. Is that your real color?" he asked.
"Of course it is," Tiffany replied defiantly. She was fiercely proud of her lovely, long, red hair. She considered it one of her best features.
"Well I've heard that redheads are kinky in bed, maybe we should find out," he said as he got up and tossed his duffel bag on to the bed. "But first things first, I have a little more work to do around the house. Maybe you can get started without me."
He reached into his bag and pulled out what looked to be a skimpy g-string bikini and tossed it to her. Tiffany held it up and took a closer look. The crotch of the panties was actually a butterfly shaped vibrator. At his urging she stepped into the legholes and pulled the panties up. They were just tight enough to hold the vibrator tight against her smooth pussy. Next he pulled some leather cuffs from his bag. He attached one to each of her wrists and ankles. Tiffany could feel her pulse quicken as he guided her down to the bed, laying her on her back. He took several lengths of rope and tied each arm and leg to a corner of the bed. Tiffany was now pulled spread-eagle, staring up at the ceiling. The last item he pulled out was a black satin sleep mask. Just before he pulled it down over her eyes he whipped out his phone and pulled up an app. With a few taps of a button the vibrator sprung to life.
"They add Bluetooth to everything these days," he chuckled as he pulled the blindfold over her eyes. Tiffany could already feel her pussy beginning to stir as the vibrator hummed against her smooth snatch. Satisfied, Bill stepped away with his duffel bag. Tiffany couldn't see what he was doing, but the sound of an electric drill suggested that he was installing cameras in strategic places around her bedroom and other parts of the house.
Bill left the room for a little while, doing who-knows-what-else while Tiffany was getting more and more worked up by the vibrator buzzing away at her pussy. She found herself squirming and thrusting her hips, trying to increase the stimulation, but the intensity of the vibrator was not enough by itself to get her to climax.
At some point Bill must have returned to enjoy the show because she heard him approach the bed. The vibration ceased, leaving Tiffany's thoroughly soaked pussy pulsating. A few beads of sweat ran down her forehead.
"I think that's enough for now," he said.
He removed the blindfold and took off the cuffs from her wrists and ankles, then he slipped the vibrator panties down and off her legs.
"You look like you're having a good time. But I bet you'd really like to cum right now." Tiffany nodded assent. "I ran across this while I was taking stock of things around here," he said, holding up a small black rubber dildo that Tiffany kept in her nightstand. Tiffany looked down, embarrassed. "Maybe you'd like to put on a little show for me with your little loverboy here and let me see how you use this. But first, I like my sluts to dress sexy when they entertain me. I've taken the liberty to pick out some lingerie from your collection. You've got a lot of stuff I like, but I may need to furnish you with a few more items."
He tossed the lingerie to Tiffany and sat back in a chair. Tiffany began by slipping on her sheer black silk teddy. It accentuated her tits perfectly without hiding her erect nipples. Next she fastened a garter belt around her waist. Bill stared intently as she slowly slid her black thigh high stockings up her legs and fastened them into place. She then pressed her feet into a pair of sexy black patent leather pumps. When she was finished Bill directed her to her makeup mirror to touch herself up.
As she applied a final dab of red lipstick on her pouty lips Bill slipped a blank piece of paper in front of her and handed her a marker. "Before you show me what you can do with this," he said tapping the dildo, "I'd like you to write something on this." He handed her a marker.
"Write: Please fuck me, lover boy. I need your cock inside me," he said. Confused, Tiffany complied.
"Excellent. Now, show me what you can do. Don't be shy. I want to see your sexiest moves. Fuck that dildo like it's a rockstar."
Tiffany sauntered over to the bed, seductively swinging her hips. She lay down and spread her legs slightly. Having not been provided with any lube, she raised the dildo to her mouth and licked all up and down the shaft. She teased the tip with her tongue before running the dildo in and out of her mouth. Bill sat back and nodded his head in approval. The bulge in his shorts assured Tiffany that she was doing a respectable job.
Next she pulled the dildo from her mouth and traced it down her chest, pausing to rub it between her fleshy, round tits. Then finally she lowered the dildo to her pussy. She slid just the tip in and gave Bill her flirtiest bedroom eyes. Despite her situation she was actually starting to enjoy this a little. She began pushing the dildo in and out of her wet pussy. She slowly quickened her pace as her excitement increased. After spending so long on the edge of orgasm earlier it didn't take long before Tiffany was moaning loudly and ramming the dildo in and out of her pussy. She closed her eyes and threw her head back as she came. Then collapsed on the bed.
Bill got up and removed the dildo from the satisfied woman. "Not too bad," he commented. "But you got to have your fun. What about me?"
Tiffany looked up with trepidation. She figured this moment would come, but was surprised when Bill pulled out a length of rope. "There's nothing sexier to me than a helpless damsel in distress," he explained as he pulled Tiffany's arms behind her back. He looped the rope around her elbows, pulling them together and then drew the rope down to her wrists before tying those together as well. He finished by wrapping the rope tightly around her waist, securing her arms firmly in place. With her arms pulled back as they were Tiffany's generous tits were thrust out invitingly. Bill massaged and rubbed them. He tweaked her pert nipples a few times, eliciting squeaks from his bound toy.
Arms secured, Bill guided Tiffany off of the bed and bent her over the back of a wooden chair he had brought up from the dining room. With her face hovering a few inches above the seat of the chair he tied an ankle to each of the rear legs. With her heels on, the back of the chair rose just high enough to force Tiffany's firm round ass up and out. Bill admired the way the stockings and garter belt framed her lovely ass.
Next he looped the middle of a length of rope loosely around her neck. He guided each end down over the front of the chair and then under the seat where he tied them off to the rear legs. In this position Tiffany was held bent over the chair, with her ass thrust up and back, and her head unable to move more than a few inches up or down.
Bill stepped behind her and ran his hand up and down her smooth stocking clad legs and massaged her exposed ass.
"I couldn't help but notice that you have already broken one of the rules you have agreed to," he said sternly.
Tiffany furrowed her brow in confusion, "I have?"
"You are to address me as 'master' or 'sir'. I have counted at least four instances in which you have broken this rule. I think it calls for a punishment." He drew from his bag a thin wooden cane and presented it in front of Tiffany's wide green eyes. "I think one stroke for each infraction should teach you some manners."
"Hey now, wait a minute. I never-", she started.
"So it's to be five strokes then. Shall we make it six?" He swished the cane menacingly.
"No," she began, he raised an eyebrow. "Sir," she finished.
"Very well then. Five strokes. Let this be a lesson to you that breaking the rules will have consequences. You will thank me after each stroke."
He lined up behind her upturned ass. He wound up and slashed down with the first stroke. Tiffany jumped in her bonds and screamed as the pain flashed through her ass. She wriggled her hips and rocked back forth seeking to relieve the pain. As she recovered herself she meekly whispered, "Thank you, sir."
"Speak up slave! Show your master the proper respect," he commanded.
Bill crashed the next blow into her ass. A second stripe glowed red across her alabaster rump and Tiffany howled in pain once more. Between the short, sharp breaths she called out, "Thank you, sir."
"That's better," Bill commented. He delivered the next blow and the next, being thanked each time.
As he lined up the final blow Tiffany twisted her hands over her lined butt cheeks, "Please, sir, no more. It hurts so much."
"You will receive your full punishment. And if you don't move your hands then perhaps I will deliver the blow to the backs of your thighs. You'll have plenty of difficulty covering that up, or explaining it to your friends," he growled.
Tiffany reluctantly removed her hands and received the final blow. Bill made sure to make it the hardest one yet, swinging hard enough to cause the chair Tiffany was tied to to slide a little on the floor. Tiffany screamed and screamed, tears flowing freely from her eyes. Bill walked around front of her and brushed her dishevelled red hair out of her face. He wiped away the tears as Tiffany sobbed another "Thank you, sir."
Bill stepped back to admire the five lovely red stripes criss-crossing her ass cheeks. He ran his hand along the welts he had raised. Tiffany jumped at his touch.
"Whew, I'm *beat*," he said, chuckling at his pun. "Maybe I'll save this lovely pussy of yours for another night. You can just suck me off before I turn in."
He loosened the rope holding Tiffany's head down, then dropped his shorts. Tiffany found herself face to face with his stiff cock. Too pained and exhausted to resist any further she took his member into her mouth. Bound as she was, she wasn't able to do a particularly good job. However, after a few minutes she could feel his cock spasm as he pulled back and fired his load into her mouth. As he withdrew Tiffany let the cum dribble out of her mouth and onto the wooden seat of the chair beneath her.
Suddenly her face was snapped to the side by a vicious slap across the cheek.
"Whore, when a man cums in your mouth you are to swallow every drop of it," he raged. "Clearly this is something we're going to have to work on." He scooped up the cum from the chair and smeared it into her long red hair. Tiffany squealed in disgust.
He then walked behind her and untied her ankles from the chair legs, but instead of removing the ropes as Tiffany expected, he tied her ankles together and guided her to the floor. Next he tied her knees together and ran a rope from her ankles to her bound wrists. With Tiffany now hog-tied on the floor he replaced the black satin sleep mask.
She heard him step into the bathroom for a few minutes. When he returned she felt him washing the cum from her hair with a washcloth and some sort of strong smelling soap. As least he has the decency to wash that out, she thought, he should know better than to cum in a girl's hair.
When he finished he returned to the bathroom for a few more moments. This time when he returned she heard him turn out the lights and crawl into her bed. "Nighty night, slave," he cooed.
Tiffany was shocked. Surely he couldn't leave her hogtied on the floor all night!
"Master?" she called out. "You can't leave me like this." No answer. "Master?"
Eventually the stress and exhaustion of the day guided Tiffany to sleep, uncomfortable as she was hogtied and blindfolded on the floor.
She awoke the next morning with her cellphone alarm chirping next to her ear. She found that one of her arms had been freed from her bonds. She removed her blindfold and silenced the alarm, with some effort she was able to loosen the remaining ropes and slip free of her bondage. She got up from the floor and stretched, a night spent bound on the floor was not her idea of a restful sleep. She looked around the room. Aside from the bundle of ropes on the floor, and the cameras now mounted on the walls, there was no sign that Bill was ever there.
She glanced down at the time on her phone. Nine thirty, she was supposed to meet her friends for brunch in half an hour! If she hurried she could shower and be there only a few minutes late. She scurried into the bathroom... and screamed!
As she looked into the mirror she saw that her long, beautiful, red hair had been dyed bright green!
She ran her hands through her hair in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. For as bad as it looked it was even worse that it was an especially shitty dye job. Splotches of her natural red showed through in some places. As she ran her fingers through the dried cum that her tormentor hadn't even bothered to wash out, her phone chirped with a text message from Bill. It read:
"Slave, I had a great time last night. Since redheads are supposed to be real minxes in bed I decided that you don't deserve to be a redhead. At least not until you can prove your worth. Don't try to color it back or there will be consequences. I'll be watching.
With tears in her eyes Tiffany stepped into the shower. In futile desperation she washed her hair three times, hoping the hideous green color would come out. As she soaped her body she winced as she passed her hands over her striped ass. She spent a moment examining the lines of welts raised on her sore cheeks.
She got out of the shower and took one more distressed look in the mirror. She got to her closet to find that her master had removed any clothing that might be considered even a little conservative. She threw on a flowery sundress and ran out the door.
Chapter 3: Green Day
Tiffany arrived at the restaurant where her friends were having brunch about fifteen minutes late. Everyone had already gathered and were laughing and joking when Tiffany walked up to the table. As her friends' heads turned to see her bright green hair all conversation ceased. They all looked on, mouths agape. Her friend, the bride-to-be, Jenn, broke the silence, "Tiffany, what the fuck? You are not going to be in my wedding looking like that."
"I, uh, had a bad reaction to a new conditioner," Tiffany lied, eyes cast down.
"I'd say so," laughed one of her friends, "If you painted your face white you'd look like a Batman villain."
Tiffany blushed in embarrassment. "Hey, when her face turns red like that she looks like a strawberry," another girl called.
Tiffany pulled out a chair and sat down as more jokes at her expense were thrown out. She winced as she made contact with the hard chair. The welts across her ass were a constant reminder of last night, as if the tarnishing of her lovely red hair was not enough. For the remainder of the brunch Jenn narrowed her eyes in barely contained fury at her maid-of-honor whenever she looked Tiffany's way.
Tiffany and Jenn had been best friends in college until they got in a fight over a man, Ryan, they were both pursuing. Tiffany came out ahead and dated him for most of her senior year before dumping him, figuring that she could do better. Some time later Jenn hooked up with Ryan and things got serious to the point that she was now marrying him in a few weeks. However, she was never able to shake the suspicion that Ryan still pined after Tiffany. Nevertheless, time repaired the girls' relationship to the point that Jenn had asked Tiffany to be her maid-of-honor. Tiffany, ever sensitive to Jenn's suspicions had maintained her distance from Ryan, though she sometimes ran into him at the office since he worked in the sales department a few floors down.
Too ashamed to contribute much to the conversation, and too aware of Jenn's anger, Tiffany passed the meal in silence and slipped away as soon as she got the opportunity. She hurried home, lest someone else she knew saw what she looked like. Home, she found, provided little relief as she discovered cameras mounted in every room. They were a constant reminder of her dire situation.
Waiting for her on the kitchen table was a document. A sticky note was attached to it, it read:
"Whore, I hope you like your new hair color. Though you may want to touch it up a little. If you sign the attached document and mail it to me then you will have my permission to fix the dye job (still green, I'm afraid). I promise not to file the paperwork so long as you behave."
Tiffany looked at the attached document. It was a request to legally change her name to Tiffany Cumslut Minx! Her face blushed red with rage. How dare he? She threw the papers down on the table. Then she looked up and saw her reflection in the door of the microwave. She looked horrendous. She took a deep breath, calmed herself, then signed the document. "I have no intention of remaining under his control for much longer," she thought to herself. "This will mean nothing."
She dropped the paperwork in a mailbox then ran up to her bathroom to try and make her hair less embarrassing. The bottle of hair dye was waiting for her. She evened out the color then spent the rest of the morning moping around the house.
In the afternoon, she wrangled herself out of her ennui and went outside. The previous day, before Bill had tapped all her communications, she had arranged to meet her younger cousin, Jacqueline, or Jax, as she preferred to be called. Always the black sheep of the family, Jax had dropped out of college, where she was studying Criminal Justice, to become a private investigator.
As Tiffany stepped into the coffee shop where she agreed to meet Jax it wasn't hard to find who she was looking for. Jax had short, purple hair and piercings galore. The nose ring through her septum had always given Tiffany the creeps. Clearly influenced by Jessica Jones, Jax wore a black leather jacket, black boots, and a black t-shirt. They hid the myriad of tattoos that adorned her body. Tiffany grabbed a latte and sat down at a table with Jax.
"Hey, cuz, I'm digging the funky hair. Finally decided to lighten up a little, eh?" Jax chirped.
"Something like that. Look, I don't have a lot of time, so let me cut to the chase. There's someone that I need you dig some dirt up on. I've written up all that I know about him. I really need something I can use to blackmail this guy, or to destroy this guy. Anything that will make him go away," Tiffany handed Jax a folder with info on Bill.
"Cool, sounds like I've got my first real case," Jax excitedly replied, flipping through the info. "What did this guy do to get on your bad side?"
"I'd rather not say," Tiffany dodged. "Just do whatever it takes. Money is no object. Once this guy is out of the way I will reimburse you for everything and make it well worth your while. I suspect that he may be monitoring my communications, so keep anything that you find offline. Maybe send me the information that you find via mail, he can't be reading that."
"You can count on me," Jax asserted, then changing the subject. "You've been blowing off the family gatherings ever since you got your big fancy job. Are you going to be at grandma's 90th birthday in a few weeks?"
"I don't know," Tiffany replied, standing up. "That may depend on what you can find." Tiffany left the coffee shop and returned home. Hopefully, this diversion wasn't enough to draw Bill's attention. Jax was her best bet at getting out from under this asshole.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Tiffany continued to practice her presentation for the CFO this coming Tuesday. Last week she thought she might have had a shot at being CFO herself some day, now, not so much. She crawled into her bed that night reflecting on how she had spent the previous night bound and on the floor. She could still smell her insidious master on her sheets as she drifted off to sleep.
The next morning she awoke, found the most conservative outfit she had left in her closet, and got ready for work. Her gray skirt, white blouse, and blazer felt odd being worn with no bra or panties. She could feel her generous tits jiggle with every step of her black pumps. She was sure the whole office would notice, that is, if they weren't staring at her hideous bright green hair.
She stepped in the building and walked as quickly as she could to her office. She tried to ignore the snickers and stares she attracted as she passed by her co-workers. She shut the door to her office, for all the good that would do, every office in this building had a glass wall facing the hallway. She had just started to read through her email when an IM from Bill popped up: "Ms. McKinney, could you see me in my office, please?"
Tiffany felt her stomach drop. She had forgotten that she was supposed to check in with Bill each morning so that he could "verify" her nakedness. Afraid, and a little angry at the interruption, Tiffany scurried over to Bill's office. She entered and closed the door.
"Slave, have you forgotten that you are to report to my office every morning so that I can verify that you are not wearing a bra or panties?" he inquired.
Tiffany cast her eyes down. "I'm sorry, sir."
Bill shook his head and gestured Tiffany to the chair in front of his desk. "So let's see that sweet naked pussy. Hike up your skirt."
Tiffany glanced over her shoulder at the glass wall facing the hallway. Anyone could walk by and see exactly what was happening in there!
"But, sir-", she began.
"Was there something unclear about my order?" Bill interrupted sternly.
"No, sir," she replied. Tiffany slinked down low in the chair, hoping it would obscure her from any untimely passersby. She slid her gray skirt up her long, smooth legs until her pussy peeked through beneath the fabric. Bill leered intently.
"Very nice," he commented. "Now take off that blazer and let me see those tits."
Tiffany moved to lower her skirt before unbuttoning her blouse, but was again interrupted by Bill, "I did not give you permission to lower your skirt, slave."
Tiffany's distress was palpable. She could feel her heart pounding as she said off her blazer and unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her tits to anyone who happened to pass by the office.
"Good," said Bill. "You seem to have difficulty following my rules. I hope they are not too lenient, or perhaps we will need to revise a few of them. Don't toy with me, slave."
He gestured for Tiffany to dress herself, which Tiffany eagerly did. "I will be hanging on to your blazer today, slave. Behave yourself and you can have it back tomorrow."
Tiffany furrowed her brows in dismay. Without that blazer the only thing between her breasts and the outside world was a thin, silk blouse. Hopefully they'll be too distracted by my hideous hair to notice, she thought unhappily.
"You are dismissed. Return to your office, though I've been monitoring some bugs in the HVAC system and I'm afraid it may be rather cold in there today. Try not to put anyone's eyes out with those things," he said gesturing to her perky nipples showing through the blouse.
Tiffany was humiliated. She hurried back to her office, avoiding more snickers from the latecomers who were seeing her green hair for the first time. Unfortunately she had a full day of meetings with people coming in and out of her office non-stop. She caught more than a few of the men, and some of the women, gawking at her tits as they jiggled freely beneath her blouse. Her only consolation was that she was pretty sure they couldn't see that she wasn't wearing panties.
By lunchtime, Tiffany had had enough. As she ate her turkey sandwich at her desk a memo came in from the VP of human resources addressed to all employees. In short, it reminded everyone that although unusual hair styles were not expressly forbidden by company policy, it was important to maintain an air of professionalism at all times. Tiffany obviously knew that the memo was directed at her. She wanted to scream to everyone that it wasn't her idea, she was forced to look like this. Instead, she packed up her things and headed home, citing illness.
When she got home an email from Bill was waiting for her. "Feeling sick, huh? You seemed fine to me this morning. I certainly hope you are feeling better tomorrow. I wouldn't want anything bad to happen during your presentation to the CFO."
The next morning Tiffany woke up and got dressed. Her blazer, still in Bill's possession, was her best item she had at covering up her bra-less tits so she had to settle for a thick cotton blouse to match her most professional looking skirt. She wanted to wear pantyhose for her important presentation, but her master had taken them all away, leaving her only with several pairs of thigh high stockings and a garter belt. She figured that was better than nothing, so she slid the stockings up her long legs and hooked them into place.
Upon arriving at work she reported directly to Bill's office. Thankfully the stares at her appearance were less obvious today. Perhaps people had gotten used to her green hair. Bill was expecting her as she walked in, closed the door, and sat down. Her ass had finally stopped hurting from the beating she had received Saturday night.
With a nod from Bill, she hiked up her skirt to show her bare pussy. Then she quickly unbuttoned her blouse to expose her tits. She froze as someone quickly walked past the office. Thankfully whoever it was was too distracted with what they were doing to look in and see Tiffany flashing her tits and pussy for the world to see.
"Very nice, slave," Bill commented. "I love a girl in stockings." His voice turned harsher, "You do realize that you did not have my permission to leave work early yesterday. It seemed obvious to me that you were attempting to avoid a well earned punishment. Which is grounds for further punishment."
"But, sir, my pre-", she began.
"Silence!" Bill roared. Tiffany was sure someone in an adjacent office would hear the outburst and come see, but no came as Bill continued. He pulled something out of his desk drawer and handed it to her. "Clearly you are too embarrassed to walk around with nothing touching your pussy. So you will wear these today."
Tiffany looked down at what she was handed. It was the the vibrator panties from Saturday night! Did he really expect her to wear these around the office all day? A look up at his cold face gave her the answer she feared. She submissively bent over and slipped her heels through the leg holes and pulled the panties up against her pussy. Bill signaled for her to get dressed. She hurriedly lowered her skirt and re-buttoned her blouse.
"Let's give them a try," Bill said as he reached for his phone. After a few taps Tiffany felt the panties spring to life. Her slight jump drew a smile across Bill's face, he was going to enjoy this. Fortunately for Tiffany, aside from the continual stimulation on her pussy the panties made no discernible noise. He turned off the panties and Tiffany returned to work.
All throughout the morning Tiffany felt the panties switch on and off. She would have thought that under the circumstances that she wouldn't get too worked up, but she soon found herself responding to the stimulation. However, as soon as that happened the panties would shut off. Clearly Bill was monitoring her through her webcam and pushing all the right buttons to leave her frustrated.
After lunch Tiffany went to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. She was headed to her big meeting and needed to focus. She stepped into the conference room and paused. Waiting for her among the CFO and other senior executives of the company was Bill. Her master had his phone placed on the big conference room table, waiting like a loaded gun. It was explained to her that the VP of operations was out of town, so Bill would be sitting in for him.
The meeting started. Several others gave their presentations, all the while Bill toyed with Tiffany via his phone. To anyone looking on it just seemed as if he was replying to emails. To Tiffany's dismay, she discovered that the panties had more intense settings than she had experienced thus far. She fought with all her might to supress any audible response to the stimulus to her pussy.
As she stood up to take a position at the head of the table she realized that her pussy juices had leaked through her skirt, leaving a damp spot on her chair. She blushed red as she shuffled across the room, attempting to keep her back to the wall so no one would notice. Her presentation started. Her cruel master gave her no respite. He now had the vibration set to full power. Tiffany's voice faltered. She squeaked and swayed, fighting to remain focused. But her efforts were not enough. Just as she neared the home stretch of her presentation her resolve broke. Her legs gave out beneath her as she was hit with the most intense orgasm of her life. She reeled and the room spun as she lost control, moaning loudly. The wetness of her pussy juices were now obvious on her skirt, both front and back.
As she regained control she realized that the entire room was staring at her in complete shock. She was mortified. She ended her presentation right there, gathered up her things and ran from the room. When she got back to her office she threw her head on her desk and started bawling. This presentation was supposed to be the pinnacle of her year, now she'd be lucky to have a job come tomorrow. Fortunately the end of the work day was near and no one dared disturb her for the rest of it. She quickly hurried home and cried herself to sleep.
Somehow she managed to coax herself out of bed and head to work the next day. The pointing and whispers were unmistakable as she walked the halls. She arrived in Bill's office.
"What the hell was that about? You ruined my presentation and humiliated me in front of the senior management," she raged.
"My, my, slave, watch that temper," he admonished. "Word of your, ahem, performance spread rapidly yesterday. Though I have to admit I did my fair share of the rumormongering. I dare say you won't be asked to give any more reports to the senior executives... unless they ask you to give a lot more," he laughed.
Tiffany's rage subsided. "So this means I am not fired, master?"
"Fired? You're the most popular woman in the company right now. There'd be riots if they let you go."
She slumped into the chair relieved. She wasn't sure how she was going to face anyone in the company without being hugely embarrassed, but at least she still had her job. After her routine flashing of her pussy and tits to Bill she returned to her office. On her way back, she overheard raised voices coming from the office next to Bill's, she slowed down to eavesdrop.
"I don't care what he has me doing. I'm sick of that bastard expecting me to drop my plans and work the weekend. It's time someone stood up to Bill and told him to go fuck himself," a voice said.
Tiffany peeked her head into the office. The angry voice belonged to Steven Sanders, Bill's second-in-command. Sensing a potential ally in her fight to bring down Bill she filed this information away and returned to her office.
The first email in her inbox was from the head of HR, who had attended yesterday's presentation (the only female participant other than Tiffany):
I'm sure you are aware of the office sexual harassment policies. I don't yet know whether your performance yesterday qualifies as such, but consider yourself on notice. Further behavior along the likes of what I saw yesterday will be grounds for your immediate dismissal. If you are having problems in your personal life then I encourage you to seek counseling with a licensed therapist.
P.S. The cost to clean and refurbish the chair you soiled will be deducted from your pay."
Tiffany was humiliated by the admonishment. She tried to keep her head down and focus on her work. She noticed throughout the day that a larger than usual number of people found themselves strolling past her office. Perhaps they were hoping for a repeat performance, or maybe just trying to fill in the details for their late night fantasies about the woman who came in front of the senior executives.
The rest of the work week passed by without incident. Tiffany continued to report to Bill's office each morning to present her nakedness. She found an opportunity to introduce herself to the second-in-command, Steven, one day at the coffee machine. She hoped she could cultivate a relationship to the point that she could use him to dig up some dirt on Bill. On Friday, she received an email late in the day from Bill informing her that he would be at her house at three o'clock on Saturday. She was to be waiting for him kneeling and naked in her bedroom with her hands behind her head.
Chapter 4: White Out
As three o'clock approached Tiffany began to get anxious, what new torment would her master have for her? At two forty-five she stripped off all her clothes and knelt on the floor of her bedroom with her hands on her head as commanded. She didn't want to risk her master arriving early and finding her unprepared. She wouldn't put it past him to do that just so he could add on to whatever punishment he had in mind.
At five past three her arms began to ache. At a quarter past she began to doubt that she had the time correct. Still, she didn't dare get up to double check. At half past she finally heard her front door open. Her arms ached from holding them aloft for so long. Her master entered the bedroom and smiled, his slave was right where he had ordered her to be, despite his intentionally arriving late. Perhaps she would make a decent submissive after all, he thought.
Without saying a word he entered the room and dropped his bag of supplies. He first pulled out a leather blindfold and pulled it over her eyes. He then attached cuffs to her wrists and ankles and guided her to the bed where she was tied spread-eagle on her back, just the same as last week. Maybe he's a one trick pony, Tiffany thought, I can live with that.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Bill's gruff voice, "Rumor of your, ahem, performance, at the senior executives meeting has spread far and wide." Tiffany's face blushed red at the memory of cumming in front of the company leadership. Bill continued, "I've been keeping an eye on all the emails and IMs flying around the company servers for the past week. The stories are very interesting to say the least. And it seems that you've acquired several admirers. In fact, I have reached out to one of your fans and after agreeing to a few stipulations he has agreed to come visit you tonight."
The color drained from Tiffany's face. "Master, you can't!"
"Can't I? He will be here in a few minutes. He has been instructed to say nothing. Just come in, give this kinky office slut the fucking she deserves, and then leave. As for you, when he arrives you are to beg him to come fuck you. Let him know how much of a whore you are. Make it convincing or you'll regret it after your date leaves. Understood?"
"Yes, master," she acquiesced. Tiffany didn't know what to think. Someone from her office was coming to her home, finding her tied to her bed, and fucking her. And worst of all, she would have no idea who it was! Every man she crossed paths with on Monday could be in on her greatest shame, and she wouldn't know who.
The doorbell rang and her master left the room. She could hear muffled voices laughing and joking downstairs. The door to the bedroom opened and footsteps approached.
"Whore, your date is here," Bill announced, then to the stranger, "I'll give you two some privacy. Holler if you need anything."
Bill left and closed the door behind him. A shudder ran through Tiffany as she called out into the room, "Is there somebody here? I need a cock in me so bad. Please come fuck me. I'm so hot right now. Please pound my whore pussy like I deserve. Let me be your little fuck puppet."
Her pleas we're answered by the sound of clothes being shed. Rough hands grabbed and mauled Tiffany's round tits. The sudden touch startled her and she jumped in her bonds. She ooh'ed and ahh'ed as the stranger's hands explored her body. She felt his weight climb up onto the bed and resumed her routine, "Oh yeah, I need a real man inside me. I'm just a dirty slut. Fuck me hard. Destroy my whore pussy."
The stranger complied and Tiffany felt his stiff cock enter her pussy. After a few minutes of hard humping, and with Tiffany writhing and moaning for all she's worth, the stranger blew his load deep in Tiffany's snatch. Without a word he slid off the bed and dressed, then left the room.
A little while later Bill returned. He removed the blindfold. "Nicely done, slave. You had me convinced that you're a cock hungry whore," he said. As he uncuffed her, he continued, "I'm hungry, what do you say we grab something to eat?"
Tiffany's silence was answer enough. He tossed her a light summer dress, black pumps, and nothing else, then ushered her out the door as the stranger's cum slowly dribbled out of her pussy and down her leg. Tiffany looked at Bill's car parked in the driveway. She couldn't say that she was surprised that he drove a creepy windowless white van, but still found it unsettling. Fortunately he guided her to the front passenger seat and opened the door. Ever the gentleman, she thought sarcastically.
After a short silent drive they arrived at an upscale restaurant in a nice part of town. Once they we're seated Bill ordered Tiffany a salad and a steak for himself. His attempts at small talk were met with continued silence. Bill shrugged and ate his steak while Tiffany picked at her salad. "No appetite, eh?" he commented as he paid the bill. Tiffany couldn't help but notice that he used one of her credit cards. "I know a great place for dessert. You'll love it."
Tiffany sighed and followed him to the parking lot. As she approached the front passenger seat Bill shook his head. "You'll be riding in the back for this next part." The way he said it sent a shiver up her spine. She hadn't been able to see what was in the back on the ride to the restaurant because there was a metal dividing wall between the front and the back. He opened the door and she apprehensively stepped in.
Before her eyes could adjust to the dark Bill had hopped in, closed the door, and grabbed Tiffany firmly from behind in one smooth movement. With one hand pinning her arms behind her back he used his free hand to grab a ball gag from the wall, rammed it into her mouth, and buckled it in place. Next he slipped the loose summer dress off and grabbed another item from the wall. Tiffany didn't recognize the armbinder as he slipped it up onto her arms and fastened it around her shoulders. She protested into her gag as he cinched it tight, pulling her elbows and wrists together behind her back.
"I've got a special seat for a randy whore like you," he said. He dragged something back from the front wall of the van. A look of fear spread across Tiffany's face as she saw her 'seat'. It consisted of a narrow post, essentially a rubber coated broomstick handle placed upright in the middle of a three foot high box. The floor of the box was not flat, however, instead it was gently sloped like a pyramid with the narrow post jutting up from the top. In this way the center of the bottom of the box was about four inches higher than any of the sides.
"No need to worry, slave," her master sneered, "I'll make sure to lube it up real good for you."
He took out a gallon jug of clear liquid and poured the contents all over the post and the bottom of the box. He then hefted a struggling Tiffany into the box. He positioned her pussy just above the post before easing her down on to the shaft. Tiffany howled as the rigid dildo poked its way into her pussy. She pressed her knees as close together as she could to prevent herself from sliding further down. But she quickly found that the lubricant all over the bottom of the box caused her knees to slowly slide down the sides of the pyramid, causing her to constantly have to readjust herself lest the post drive deeper into her pussy.
Bill watched for a moment in utter amusement as Tiffany slid up and down the shaft, struggling to keep her knees together. He then reached down and hooked the ring at the end of her armbinder to an eyebolt at the back of the box. This would prevent Tiffany from freeing herself from the post in case she somehow managed to get to her feet. Satisfied that his date was secure, Bill exited the rear and got into the driver's seat. Tiffany felt the van lurch as Bill drove away.
After about twenty minutes the van finally pulled to a stop. Tiffany's legs quivered from fighting to hold herself upright as the van shifted and turned its way there. The rear doors swung open and Tiffany was surprised to see Bill standing next to a burly looking man. Tiffany squeaked her displeasure at being so exposed in front of another man. If the man thought that finding a bound woman straddling a pole in the back of a van was odd, he didn't show it. Instead he climbed in and together he and Bill hefted the box holding Tiffany out of the van and onto a hand truck. She screamed as the box landed hard on the ground, driving the pole hard into her snatch. Tiffany looked around, they were in an alleyway behind a dark stone building.
The burly man walked to the van and drove it out of the alley. Bill whistled a happy tune as he drove the handcart through a door in the adjacent building. As Tiffany's eyes adjusted to the dark she saw that they had entered a fetish club. Dozens of tables tended to by scantily clad woman surrounded a slightly raised center area. Throughout the club were several women and men in various stages of undress, some led around on collars and leashes by masters and mistresses in tight latex outfits. Some slaves were gagged, some bound, one was crawling on her knees behind a man in a tuxedo. On the center stage was a curvy woman, completely nude, bent over her seated master's knee and receiving an open handed spanking.
Tiffany took in the whole scene from her perch atop the slippery shaft buried in her pussy. She assumed most of the patrons were there of their own free will, but she wondered how many were as she was, humiliated and there against her will. Bill wheeled the cart over to an empty table in the corner of the club. He dropped her in place next to the table and took the handcart away. He stopped to talk to several people before making his way back to Tiffany.
Bill sat down at the table and ordered a drink from a passing waitress. A few minutes later a well dressed man came by and handed a bag to Bill. He opened the bag and withdrew a pair of nipple clamps. Tiffany furrowed her brow in distress. She tried to squirm away as he leaned over and attached each of the metal clamps to her nipples, but to no avail. She moaned as each clip bit hard on her soft nipples. A thin wire led from each clamp to a small box Bill held in his hand. Without any explanation Bill returned to his seat and resumed sipping his drink. Tiffany continued slipping and sliding up and down the post.
After a few more minutes the well dressed man took to the stage. "Good evening masters and mistresses," he boomed. "I hope everyone is having a pleasant time tonight. I just have a quick announcement: one of our regulars, Master Bill, is training his new cum whore tonight. He invites all comers to make their contribution to the effort. No need to hurry, he tells me he will be here all night."
Tiffany looked at Bill in terror. Did he expect her to service every man in the club?
Bill waved to the tittering crowd like a conquering hero. He set his drink down and slid over near Tiffany. "You showed me last week that you are a substandard cock sucker. Tonight you will learn to be better. I want to see eagerness and enthusiasm," he murmured in her ear. He leaned down and removed the ball gag that had kept Tiffany silent to this point.
"You are nuts! You've got to be fucking crazy if -," she began. Her words were cut short by a sharp electric jolt to her tits, delivered via her wired nipple clamps. The shock caused Tiffany's legs to slip wide apart, ramming the pole deep into her cunt. She scrambled to regain her position.
"You are in no position to be making demands of me. You will do what I tell you to, and you will do it with enthusiasm, or else," he sneered, holding the control for the shocker threateningly. "Am I making myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," Tiffany murmured.
Already several men had lined up near the table to have a go at the bound woman. The first man stepped up in front of the box.
"So, would you like to suck my dick?" he asked. Tiffany said nothing as the man fished his semi-erect cock out of his trousers. She eyes his member nervously. Suddenly, a brief shock zapped her tits, she squealed in pain.
"The man asked you a question, slave," Bill warned.
Tiffany looked back at the man in front of her. "Please, sir, let me suck your dick. I'm just a worthless cum whore. I need you to help me learn. Please," she begged.
"Well, since you asked me so nicely," the man chuckled. He stepped forward and guided his cock into Tiffany's eager mouth. She began sucking for all she was worth. The man she was servicing made no effort to help, forcing her to crane her forward. Tiffany bobbed and licked, her eagerness apparent, however, the effort distracted her from maintaining a good position on the pole and her exertions kept causing her to slide further down the shaft. The sharp jabs to her cervix reminded her to keep repositioning her legs.
Finally the man came. He pulled his cock out of Tiffany's mouth and sprayed his load all over her face. She recoiled from the blast and was immediately hit with another shock to her tits.
"When a man cums on your face you are to open your mouth wide and hold still. When he has finished you will lick as much cum into your mouth as you can," Bill instructed.
Tiffany licked up the cum dribbling down her face as the next man stepped up. "Please, sir, fuck my face. I'm a horny cum whore and I need your cock in my mouth," Tiffany begged. The man eagerly complied as Bill nodded approval. This time she didn't have to worry about sucking down the cum as the man shot his load into her hair. Tiffany held stock still with her mouth open regardless. As the man pulled up his shorts and stepped away Tiffany jumped from another shock. Bill answered her distressed look, "You forgot to thank him. Manners are important, slave."
The next man stepped up. Tiffany could see that a rather long line was forming behind him. She was catching on to the routine and begged for his cock in her mouth. As he shot his load directly into her open mouth Tiffany gulped down the hot, sticky cum. Her stomach turned and she tried not to retch as she thanked the man and the next one stepped up.
And so the parade of eager cocks continued. Tiffany enthusiastically sucked each man off, always keeping Bill's shock controller in the corner of her eye. He used it less and less as Tiffany learned proper cum whore technique. After two hours she was completely covered in cum. It soaked her hair. It ran down her face and dribbled onto her bouncy tits. One man took great joy in firing his load directly in her ear, while one sadistic patron grabbed hold of her head, propped her eyes open and ejaculated into them. She howled in pain as the jizz stung her eyes. The sadists laughed in delight as she thanked each and every one. All the while Tiffany continued sliding up and down the post lodged firmly in her pussy. Her legs ached from the effort, but her unending ride continued.
More and more men came. Tiffany felt as if she had swallowed gallons of cum. She could no longer see through the layer of man jam plastered over her face. Her throat ached from the multitude of cocks banging into it. Finally it seemed that the stream of ready cocks was abating. Through the haze of jizz she heard a voice she recognized as Bill, "You look like a fucking mess, don't you?"
"Yes, master. I'm a dirty cum whore," the ever-agreeable Tiffany replied, trembling in exhaustion and ever-present fear of further shocks to her tits.
"Well, open up, whore. I've got something for you," he commanded. Tiffany obliged.
Expecting yet another cock in her aching mouth she recoiled in shock and surprise as a hot stream of urine struck her in the face. She pulled back, closing her mouth as the piss hit her mouth. She coughed and retched as another electric blast rocked her body. Tiffany bounced and writhed as her master held down the shocker for a full thirty seconds. When he finally relented she found herself gasping for breath. As Bill hissed, "What the fuck do you think you're doing, slave? You will happily accept all your master's gifts. You are nothing but a dirty whore. A piece of trash. A collection of holes to be used and abused."
He collected himself and walked away. The piss had washed the layer of jizz from Tiffany's face. Through burning eyes she surveyed the club. It was nearly empty now. The waitstaff were washing down the tables and collecting empty glasses. Bill was talking to the burly bouncer. After a moment they both approached Tiffany. She was once again hoisted onto a hand truck and ferried out to the back alley where she was loaded again into the van.
Tiffany wallowed in misery for the short drive back to her house. She felt the van pull to a stop. Then Bill pulled open the rear doors and entered. Without saying a word he lifted Tiffany free of the dreaded post she'd been impaled on for the past few hours. She collapsed to the floor on shaky legs as he worked free the straps holding the armbinder and removed the nipple clamps. She groaned and flexed her stiff arms, the cum covering her body had dried into a crusty second skin, her green hair plastered to her head. Bill stepped back.
"I hope you enjoyed our date tonight, cum whore. But this is where I leave you. I'll see you on Monday, slave." He threw open the doors and nudged Tiffany out the back. Then scurried up to the driver's seat, gave the horn a short blast and peeled out. Tiffany looked up expecting to see her house, she longed for a shower to rinse the cum and piss from her body. Instead, she saw that she had been dropped off two blocks away from her house!
She had to walk home naked, covered in cum, and exhausted. She quickly jumped behind a nearby bush, realizing that the car horn may have attracted the attention of the neighbors. She saw a light turn on in one window, she couldn't be sure whether the occupant had seen her. She waited a few minutes in the bush nonetheless before hurrying home, her aching pussy protesting at every step.
As she reached her front door, out of breath she saw a small unmarked package waiting on her front stoop. She scooped it up and hurried inside. Luckily her wicked master was kind enough to leave the front door unlocked. She dumped the package on the floor and ran directly into the shower, then collapsed into bed where she slept like a baby.
She spent most of the next day in bed, too sore to move, too embarrassed to show her face outside, too devastated by her lot in life.
She woke up early Monday morning feeling better. The ache in her pussy was no longer persistent. She picked something to wear from the limited selection of revealing outfits remaining in her closet then headed towards the door. She checked the mail, hoping for some word from Jax. There was nothing. Then she remembered the package waiting for her from Saturday night. She stepped back inside and found the package waiting for her on the floor.
There were no labels or other markings on the outside. She cut it open to find a small metal object and a note. The note read:
"Slave, I have gotten you a little present. You will wear it to work on Monday. In case you are too dumb to understand, it goes in your ass."
Tiffany put down the note and picked up the object. It was a small metal buttplug, roughly the size of her index finger, tapered near the bottom to hold it in place and a broad bejeweled base to keep it from sinking entirely into her ass. Tiffany looked again at the note, then angrily threw the buttplug in the box and went to work.
When she arrived at work she proceeded directly to Bill's office and angrily threw open the door.
"You were completely out of line this weekend. I could have been seriously injured. You've gone too far," she raged.
Bill coolly looked up, regarding the irate woman before him, then returned his attention to his computer. After a long pause, he spoke, "Slave, I would like to show you something." He turned his monitor so that Tiffany could see it, then hit 'play' on a video he had queued up.
She immediately recognized her bedroom in the video. Into the frame, dressed like a high class hooker, sauntered a beautiful red-haired Tiffany. She sat down on the bed and began licking and sucking a dildo. Tiffany's face paled as she realized that this was a recording of the first night that Bill came to her house. The volume was turned up all the way and Tiffany's face flushed as her moaning and panting blared from the speakers. She realized that the video was in full view of anyone passing by and jumped up to block the screen.
As Tiffany fucked herself to orgasm on the video, the scene changed to a green-haired Tiffany blindfolded and bound to her bed. She begged and pleaded a blurred out stranger to fuck her for all she's worth. The stranger eagerly did so.
When the video finally finished Tiffany slumped back into her chair, stunned. Of course she knew that Bill had installed cameras in her home to keep an eye on her. But it hadn't occurred to her that he was recording everything that happened.
Bill interrupted the silence, "It'd be too bad if this lovely video was sent from your email to every employee in this company, don't you think?" He turned his monitor back towards himself. "Do you still feel that I am out of line, slave?"
Tiffany was devastated. Rather than relieving herself of her blackmail she was only adding more fuel to the fire. "No, sir," she murmured submissively.
"Very well then," Bill continued. "I hope we can put this matter behind us. My punishments are severe but you must understand that I will not endanger your life. You are no fun for me if you're dead." He smirked. "Now, let's see that lovely pussy and those bouncy tits."
Tiffany meekly complied, hoisting her skirt and flashing her tits. A scowl grew across Bill's face.
"Slave," he said sternly. "Did you not see the package that was left for you?"
Tiffany gulped. "I, uh, left it at home, sir," she stammered. In her rage that morning she envisioned storming into Bill's office and telling him off, damn the consequences. Now that she was here, and had seen the new video, her confidence was non-existent.
"I see," Bill admonished. He reached into a drawer of his desk and pulled out a piece of paper, and wrote something on it. "Your insolence is beginning to make me angry. I think corrective action is called for." He slid the paper to Tiffany. "You will let everyone know that you will be leaving early today. You will be at this address at 3pm. Not one minute later. Do you understand?"
Tiffany looked at the address on the note. "Yes, sir," she replied.
"Luckily," Bill said again reaching into his drawer, "I happen to have a spare butt plug for you to use today."
A metal item clattered down on his desk. Tiffany looked at this butt plug, it was a bit larger than the one sitting in the box at her house. It was about three inches long and as thick as her thumb, with the same jeweled base as the other plug. Tiffany stared at it, mouth agape.
"Well, get on with it," Bill said impatiently.
Tiffany picked up the plug. She had never had a man, or anything else, in her ass before. She considered the thought of it demeaning. But now she was expected to shove this plug in her ass right here in the middle of Bill's office. She sat down on a chair and slowly raised her legs. She wasn't quite sure how to proceed.
"You're gonna want to moisten that up a bit first, slut," Bill helped, gesturing to her mouth.
Tiffany raised the plug to her lips and ran her tongue along the plug, wetting it with saliva. Then she lowered it to her asshole and lined it up. She held her breath as she worked it into her tight hole. She gasped as the plug slid all the way in and her asshole closed around the cold hard metal.
Bill sat back, satisfied. "Good. You will keep that in there at all times, unless I instruct you otherwise. There is a temperature sensor embedded in it, so I will know if you cheat. You may remove it for half an hour per day."
Tiffany pulled down her skirt and buttoned her blouse. She shifted uncomfortably at the metal intruder buried in her ass, then stood up and returned to her office. The buttplug was a constant annoyance as she tried to focus on her work. She was unable to get anything done because every man that walked past her office left her wondering if he was the man who fucked her in her home on Saturday night.
Three o'clock approached and Tiffany got into her car and proceeded to the address Bill gave her. She was expecting some shady hellhole, but was pleasantly surprised to find herself at a suite of doctor's offices. She entered and was directed to an exam room by an indifferent receptionist, who then told her to strip and put on a paper medical gown.
The receptionist left and Tiffany did as she was told, hoping that the doctor she presumed that she was seeing would not notice the bejeweled buttplug jammed into her ass. She was then left alone and waiting in the chilly sterile room.
Eventually a man in a doctor's coat entered. Without saying a word he directed Tiffany to a paper covered exam table. He then extended stirrups from the table, guided her legs in, and locked them in place with leather straps. Tiffany began to get concerned.
"Um, sir, can you tell me what I'm here for?" she asked.
The man ignored her as he lifted her arms above her head and locked them in place to more leather cuffs on the table. He then deftly cut away the medical gown with a pair of scissors.
"Hey, now. Wait a minute," Tiffany protested. She wasn't prepared for what to expect, but the silence from the man left her expecting the worst. As he ran a broad leather strap across her chest, above her tits she really got concerned. "What are you doing? Let me go. I want to leave. You can't-," she began, but her complaints were silenced by a large ring gag suddenly shoved into her mouth. Tiffany struggled against her restraints but was unable to move. The man ran a final leather strap up across her forehead, pinning it to the table.
Now exceedingly terrified, Tiffany mumbled into her gag as the man withdrew a metal tray from a nearby drawer. She could see nothing as the man fumbled with some tool out of her vision. She jumped in her bonds as the man leaned over her and swabbed her nipples with alcohol. He got up and flipped a switch, revealing a mirror in the ceiling. Tiffany could now see her bound body strapped to the table. The man leaned over her once more, this time with a piercing tool in hand. Tiffany's complaints went up an octave as he positioned the tool over her nipple.
Ka-thunk! Tiffany shrieked as her nipple was pierced. The man threaded a metal stud through the hole. She pleaded into her gag as he reached for the other nipple. Ka-thunk! Her second nipple received the same treatment as the first. Tiffany was left gasping in pain. She felt herself falling into a daze.
She was quickly snapped out of that daze by the sensation of the man swabbing her pussy with alcohol. She thought he was finished, but he was just getting started! He peeled her pussy open and stretched her inner labia out. Ka-thunk! He pierced her pussy lip and threaded a small silver ring into it. Ka-thunk! He ringed the other side. Tiffany was blubbering to herself now, blinded by pain. Her heart skipped a beat as the man teased her clit out of its hood. She pleaded in vain as he pierced her clit hood and threaded another silver ring through.
She calmed a little as he stepped away from her pussy. But then he moved to the head of the table. She could smell his bad breath as he leaned over her face and locked a clamp onto her tongue. She pleaded and gurgled as he pierced her tongue and inserted a stud.
Tiffany was openly bawling now. The man leaned over one more time. Her eyes grew wide and she shrieked louder than ever as he applied his wicked tool to her septum, piercing the cartilage in the middle of her nose and threading a small silver ring into it.
The man finally stepped back and returned his tool to the drawer. He left the room. Tiffany continued sobbing, strapped to the table and alone, but relieved that the man was gone.
About fifteen minutes later she heard the door open once more. Expecting the wicked man in the doctor's coat, she was startled to see a gruff looking muscular man. Nearly every part of his skin that wasn't under his leather jacket and jeans was covered in tattoos. Tiffany knew that no good could come of this.
He pulled up a chair and parked himself between her legs. He reached under the table and withdrew several items. Tiffany trembled as he alcohol swabbed an area just above her pierced pussy. She jumped as she heard the buzz of a tattoo gun. She screamed as she felt the tattoo needle carve a path across an area just above her snatch.
The man worked quickly. The buzzing of the tattoo needle and Tiffany's screams filled the room. When he was finished he scooted back his chair. Tiffany forced herself to look up in the mirror at what had now been permanently tattooed above her pussy. In big black block letters were the words: CUM WHORE.
She cried and cried, hoping that her abuse would end. Instead the man maneuvered the table so that the leg stirrups slid up towards Tiffany's head, lifting her knees toward her chest. He brought his chair in close once more, lowered his face just in front of her plugged ass and began tattooing a swath of skin in the small of her back. She was unable to see what he wrote as he scooted his chair back again. He stood up and left the room.
Tiffany was left alone until she ran out of tears. Half an hour later the receptionist returned and released Tiffany from the table. Tiffany quickly got dressed and left for home, terrified of what might happen if she remained in this horrible place.
When she got home she spent twenty minutes just parked in her driveway crying. She had now been permanently disfigured. How could she show her face in the office? She forced herself to enter her home, take off her clothes and examine herself in a mirror. Her tits hurt, her pussy hurt, her nose hurt, her back hurt. She touched the little metal rings embedded in her pussy. She ran her fingers along the metal studs in her nipples. She touched the ring in her septum. She ran her finger along the "cum whore" tattoo above her pussy. Slowly she turned around to see the tattoo on her back. Staring back at her, above the bejeweled buttplug she'd worn all day were the words: ANAL SLUT.
Too exhausted to eat, she immediately went to bed and cried herself to sleep.
Tiffany awoke the next day still exhausted. The buttplug that was jammed up her ass last night kept her from resting comfortably. She rolled out of bed and got ready for work. She relished every second of the half hour that she was allowed to remove the buttplug. As she put on her makeup her eyes kept getting drawn to the little silver ring dangling from her nose. She found that if she kept her head bowed it wasn't too noticeable. Thankfully the other piercings and tattoos were hidden under her clothes. Though the nipple piercings did poke out her blouse in a somewhat obvious way.
She drove to work and headed directly to Bill's office. She was too exhausted to be angry and too afraid of what another outburst might cost her, so she meekly entered his office and sat down.
"I hope you enjoyed your appointment yesterday," Bill said. "Let's see."
Tiffany hiked up her skirt, revealing her pierced pussy. Bill whistled in admiration. She unbuttoned her blouse to display her pierced nipples. She blushed in embarrassment as Bill closely examined each piercing and tattoo.
"They did a fine job. I told them you didn't need any painkillers or numbing agents, seeing as how you're a tough, strong, assertive woman. How do you like the buttplug, slave?"
"It's uncomfortable, sir. May I please remove it?" she answered.
"Hmm, maybe it's not the right one for you," he reached into his desk and pulled out another buttplug. This one was even bigger. It was a little over three inches long and an inch thick at its widest. Tiffany slumped in her chair. This one was even worse than the last one. She sighed and pulled her current plug free of her ass and set it on Bill's desk.
"Um, excuse me, slave. You would give me a filthy buttplug? Clean that up!" he demanded.
Tiffany picked it up and looked to the door. She stood to go wash the plug in the bathroom sink. Bill stopped her.
"Use your mouth, slave. It's got to be good for something," he instructed.
Tiffany felt her stomach drop. She was expected to put a buttplug that had spent the last twenty four hours in her ass into her mouth.
"But, master," she began, but was cut short by a stern look from Bill.
She slowly raised the plug to her mouth and began licking it clean. She retched as the foul taste hit her tongue, but she eventually got it clean. Bill pushed the newer, bigger plug towards her. Tiffany lubricated it with saliva and worked the invader into her ass.
Bill dismissed her and she immediately ran to the bathroom to rinse her mouth. She spent the rest of the work day trying to avoid everyone. During meetings she would keep her head down so others might not see her nose piercing.
The only person she didn't avoid was Steven Sanders, Bill's second-in-command. With the hopes of turning him against Bill she moved from friendly banter by the coffee machine to full on flirting with him. Her revealing outfits and suggestive piercings did half the work for her and she could tell that he was warming to her charms.
Each day that week she could tell she was getting closer to Steven. Now she just had to find the right moment to use her 'in' to find a way after Bill. Especially since each day that week Bill presented her with an ever larger buttplug. By Friday the plug she wore was six inches long and two inches wide. She was sure that everyone noticed her sitting awkwardly and taking pained steps down the hall.
On Friday morning she was instructed to once again be ready for Bill's arrival at three o'clock on Saturday, kneeling naked in her bedroom with her hands upon her head. Just the same as last time. This time Tiffany hoped her evening would go better.
Chapter 5: The Yellow Menace
Tiffany's anxiety grew as three o'clock approached on Saturday. She stripped down to nothing but the enormous metal buttplug in her ass as the hour grew near. She knelt on the floor with her hands on her head as instructed. This time her master arrived on time. He entered the room carrying a heavy duffel bag, it was a familiar sight and seemed to contain some horrible new toy every time Bill opened it. He set the bag on the floor and withdrew a plain grey jacket.
"Put this on," he ordered, tossing the jacket to Tiffany.
Tiffany complied. The jacket was just long enough to cover her pussy and ass when she stood. Next he pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He locked her wrists together in front of her, then tossed a small blanket over her hands, hiding the fact that she was handcuffed. Finally he pulled out a pair of 'old man' sunglasses, with lenses that wrapped all the way around, however, these sunglasses blocked all light. Tiffany now could see nothing. To a casual observer she looked like a green-haired girl with questionable fashion choices instead of a blindfolded and handcuffed slave.
Bill led her out the door and into the front seat of his van. "We've got a quick errand to run," he explained. They drove a short distance, then Bill parked and escorted Tiffany out of the vehicle. She was led through a pair of doors, then up a few flights of stairs. She heard him fumbling with a set of keys before being led through another door. She stopped and heard Bill drop his duffel bag and open it up. A moment later he pulled a ring gag into Tiffany's mouth, jammed it behind her teeth and removed the handcuffs.
Tiffany was led over to a bed and laid face down on it. Bill pulled each wrist down to an ankle and tied them together with coarse rope. He then tied each ankle/wrist pair to a corner of the bed. Tiffany was now held with her face pressed into the bed and her ass thrust up into the air. She moaned into her gag as Bill reached over and pulled the buttplug free of her ass. He then removed the sunglasses.
Tiffany blinked as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. Then she was hit by a sinking feeling in her stomach. She knew where she was! On a nightstand just in front of her gagged face was a frame containing the engagement photo of her best friend, Jenn, and her fiance, Ryan. She was in their bedroom! Tiffany looked to Bill, pleading for him through her gag to let her go.
"You know, it's amazing how some people put their entire lives on social media," Bill began. "It seems that you and Jenn have quite a storied history, and a lot of it involves a fellow co-worker of ours, Ryan, or 'lover boy' as Jenn calls him. My keylogger on his computer has gotten me into all of his social media accounts as well. It seems that Jenn has some trust issues with him. She can't quite shake the feeling that he still has feelings for you, and perhaps that he is cheating on her with you. Has he, slave?"
Tiffany nodded her head no.
"Hmm, we'll have to see about that. Obviously you have figured out where you are. At the moment Jenn is out getting her final fitting for her wedding dress. It seems they have quite the gala planned next week. Ryan has told Jenn that he'd be in the office all day, trying to finish up his monthly sales numbers. Unfortunately for Ryan the servers have gone down right about-," he pressed a button on his phone, "-now. I'm dying to find out who will make it home first, Jenn or Ryan. But I should probably get going. I don't want to get caught in a torrid love triangle." He grabbed his bag and moved towards the door. "Oh, I almost forgot one more lovely detail."
He removed from his duffel bag a sheet of paper and placed it on the bed next to Tiffany. She looked over and read the note:
"Please fuck me, lover boy. I need your cock inside me."
Tiffany recognized the note. It was the one Bill had her write the first night that he had come to her house. It was unmistakably penned in Tiffany's distinctive handwriting. It even used Jenn's 'lover boy' petname for Ryan! Clearly Bill had been planning this moment from the very beginning. As she read the note Bill leaned over and locked a metal collar around her neck. Emblazoned across the front of the collar was the word 'SLUT'. He took the key and placed it on the note. It had a little charm attached to it which read 'I'm yours'.
With Bill out of the room, Tiffany struggled to free herself from her bonds but to no avail. Then she heard the door open and the jangle of keys being thrown on a table.
Tiffany heard the door to the bedroom open, and then a gasp as Jenn saw her best friend tied face down on her bed with a handwritten note begging her fiance to fuck her. Tiffany's ass wriggled suggestively as she tried to escape her bonds. Jenn lost it. She grabbed a belt hanging nearby and ran to Tiffany. Tiffany tried explaining through her gag, but she could say nothing intelligible. Jenn slammed the thin strip of leather down across Tiffany's upturned ass. "You fucking whore! How could you do this to me?" she raged between blows. Tiffany writhed on the bed, her ass aflame from the assault. Jenn paused to catch her breath. She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of Tiffany in her vulnerable position.
Just then, Ryan entered the room. Tiffany heard Jenn call out, "You cheating asshole!" before she picked up a nearby vase and hurled it in his direction. He ducked and it smashed against the bedroom wall. Jenn snatched up the key to the collar and stormed out of the room, doors slamming behind her the entire way.
Ryan turned back to Tiffany. "What the fuck have you done? What is this?" he asked as leaned over and released Tiffany from the ropes holding her in place. As soon as Tiffany was free she jumped up, threw on the jacket Bill had left for her, and raced after Jenn, hoping to explain. As soon as she made it outside of the apartment building she saw Bill waiting for her. He firmly grabbed her wrist and led her into the back of his van which was waiting nearby.
He shoved her face down and locked her collar to a ring set in the floor.
"Boy, Jenn really did a number on you," he said admiring the stripes she had laid down across Tiffany's ass. "She could teach me a thing or two."
Still wearing the ring gag, Tiffany could do nothing to complain as Bill began pulling items out of a nearby box. First he took a pair of leather cuffs and slapped them on her wrists. He then pulled her wrists up behind her back and locked them to the back of the collar. Next he withdrew a stiff black leather corset and fastened it around her waist. Tiffany gasped as he pulled it tighter and tighter, crushing her waist impossibly thin. Finally he pulled out a pair of black leather ballet heels. He jammed her feet into the shoes, which kept her toes pointed. The heels were so high that if she walked on them she'd be standing on her toes. As it was they held her feet uncomfortably stretched.
Bill left the back of the van and moved to the driver's seat. Tiffany felt the vehicle lurch as he drove off. Her mind was reeling at what had just happened. Jenn obviously thought that Tiffany was having an affair with Ryan. She needed to go talk to Jenn to straighten everything out, but instead she was locked in the back of this awful van being delivered to what she assumed was some terrible hellhole.
After about fifteen minutes the van stopped. Bill returned to the back of the vehicle. Before unhooking Tiffany's collar from the floor of the van he hooked on a short leather leash. He then led her out the back doors. Once again she found herself in an alleyway behind a brick building. It didn't appear to be the same alley as the previous week at the fetish club. Bill pounded on the back door of the building and it swung open. Tiffany was tugged inside, struggling to walk on her tight ballet heels. She teetered inside and took stock of where she was.
The inside of the building was the dirtiest, shabbiest, shittiest bar Tiffany had ever seen. The floor was sticky and smelled of vomit and stale beer. The furnishings were mismatched and broken, obviously props in more than a few bar brawls. The lighting was dim. It was hard to tell whether or not that was intentional to hide the shabby state of the place. The patrons were a motley crew of the scum of society; drunks and thugs nursing beers and whiskeys. Tiffany heard a record scratch as the jukebox ceased blaring hard rock. Most of the patrons turned their heads to see what caused the disturbance, it was much too early in the night for a fight to have broken out. Broad smiles appeared on every face in the room as they got a sight of Tiffany standing there on wobbly heels, completely naked except for a corset, collar, and ring gag.
Bill broke the silence, "Gentleman! I'd like to introduce you to Tiffany. She will be your bathroom attendant tonight." Tiffany furrowed her eyebrows, she didn't like the way that sounded. "Please be sure to pay her a visit. In fact, to speed things along she'll be buying the next two rounds for every man in the bar. Drink up!"
A chorus of cheers went up as Bill tugged Tiffany's leash and guided her into the men's bathroom carrying a duffel bag of supplies. If the main bar was bad, the bathroom was worse. The smell nearly knocked Tiffany over. A layer of grime colored the tiles a gritty looking gray. She was led past shit-stained toilets in broken stalls to a corner of the restroom and then guided to her knees next to a square three-foot high post in the floor.
He tipped her face to the floor and Tiffany squealed her disgust at touching any part of that bathroom, especially with her face. He pulled several leather straps from his bag and locked her ankles to her thighs. Next he removed a rubber buttplug from the bag, lubed it up with a gob of spit from Tiffany's ring gagged mouth and then worked it into her ass. Compared to the buttplug she had worn up until a few hours ago, this one wasn't so bad. It was four inches long and about an inch wide. Coming out of the base of the plug was a small black tube.
Bill lifted Tiffany up onto her knees once more and unhooked her wrists from the back of her collar. He slid her over so that her back was up against the post rising from the floor, then he locked her collar onto a ring set in the top of the post. Likewise, he locked each wrist into rings at the base of the post. Tiffany was now trapped in a kneeling position up against the post. Bill withdrew a small mechanical box from his duffel bag. He set it on the floor behind the post and connected the tube from Tiffany's butt plug to the machine. Then he popped open the floor drain that was beneath Tiffany, fished out a small wire in there and ran that to the box as well.
Bill stepped back, then removed one last item from his bag. It was a small metal sign. He turned it around so that Tiffany could read it. In big block letters painted on the sign were the words: PISS SLUT.
Tiffany's face paled. She had resigned herself to another hellish night of cocksucking. This was much worse. Her stomach turned at the thought of a bar full of men coming to piss on her. Bill stepped forward and grabbed at Tiffany's nipple. The sign had a nipple clamp at each of the top corners. She groaned as he clamped the sign on, the heavy metal swinging and tugging at her sensitive flesh. Last and most ominous, he set a small webcam atop a nearby sink. Its indicator light blinked red as it stared at her helpless form.
"Let me explain the situation," he said, now that he had emptied his bag of gear. "You will be the toilet for the gentleman out there tonight. You are to drink every drop of piss that hits those pretty lips. Understood?" Tiffany meekly nodded, as much as her collar attached to the post would allow. "To incentivize good performance I have an extra twist," he continued. "In the floor drain below you is a flow meter. It measures how much liquid passes through it. Every few ounces of piss you allow to go down the drain rather than down your whore mouth will cause the buttplug in your ass to inflate a little. Unless you want that tight ass stretched to hell you'd better drink as much as you can. I'll be out there enjoying a few drinks myself. I'll make sure to keep the gang visiting you by plying them with drinks. You're buying afterall. And to add to the fun I've set up a webcam linked to a fetish site for pissplay enthusiasts. If you allow enough piss to fall through the floor drain then this whole episode will be uploaded. You'll be streamed to the whole world under the stage name, Tiffany Piss Slut Minx. You don't happen to know anyone who visits those sites, right? Boy, that would be embarrassing. You will know if you failed if the light on the camera turns green."
He chuckled as he walked out of the bathroom. Tiffany shifted uncomfortably in her bonds. She was nauseous just thinking about drinking piss from these scumbags. Then the first of many visitors entered the restroom.
The scruffy old man immediately locked eyes and walked over to her. Without skipping a beat he pulled his dick out of his pants and aimed a stream of hot yellow piss straight at Tiffany's face. Mindful of the plug firmly inserted in her ass Tiffany dutifully tipped back her head and guided the piss into her mouth. The ring gag made swallowing difficult and some of the piss ran down her face, on to her tits, before trickling into the drain. Tiffany coughed and retched as the warm liquid ran down her throat and settled in her stomach. Finally the man finished, put his dick back in his pants and walked away, whistling.
Tiffany was left gasping, humiliated. How had she gone from successful executive to being chained up in a bathroom, drenched in piss? Her thoughts we're interrupted by the next patron to enter the bathroom. As the next man unleashed a hot stream of piss on Tiffany's face she felt a stirring in her ass. Despite her best efforts enough piss had passed the drain to trigger an increase in the size of the buttplug. She shifted uncomfortably at the sensation. It was still not bigger than the biggest plug she had worn earlier in the week, but the night was still young.
More and more men visited and more and more pissed poured on the miserable woman. Her stomach protested against drinking any more liquid. The buttplug continued to swell, pressing against her corsetted waist. All the while the blinking red light on the webcam stared at her. To make matters worse, the piss she drank began to fill her own bladder. She fought the need to pee as long as she could, knowing that anything she released would inflate the buttplug even further. But she could hold it no longer. She let her own stream of urine blast out onto the ground. The man currently making use of her mouth growled angrily as it splashed onto his boots. He gave her a swift kick in the ribs before walking away grumbling.
The long pent up stream flowing from Tiffany's bladder kept going. She had only intended to release a little to relieve the pressure, but once she started she couldn't command herself to stop. She felt the buttplug begin inflating before she was even half done. She howled into her gag as the plug grew larger and larger. The pain in her ass was incredible and when the plug finally stopped inflating she felt her body become wracked with cramps. She glanced up, and her heart stopped. The webcam light had turned green. Perverts all over the world would be watching her humiliate herself in the most degrading way possible. She hung her head in shame.
She wasn't sure how much longer she could last. The feeling in her ass was pure agony, but the men kept coming. They got drunker and drunker as the night wore on. Many swayed precariously as they delivered their waste in Tiffany's general direction, their inebriation interfered even with their ability to aim properly.
Finally after several hours at her post Tiffany saw Bill re-enter the room. Her eyes stung. Her stomach turned. Her ass was stressed to the breaking point. She trembled as he approached and made his own contribution to the effort.
"I'm getting a little tired. What do you say we call it a night, piss slave?" he casually asked after he emptied his bladder.
Through a haze of pain Tiffany nodded her assent. Bill pulled a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and began undoing the straps holding Tiffany in place. As soon as she was free she collapsed onto the floor. She didn't care that she was laying in a puddle of piss. She gasped for air as he released the corset. For the first time all night she could take a deep breath. She winced as he removed the nipple clamps and "piss slave" sign and the blood rushed back into her nipples.
He tapped the, now enormous, buttplug wedged in her and glanced at the webcam. "Looks like you let a lot of piss down the drain, slave," he shrugged. Tiffany wept in relief as he poked a valve and released the air from the plug. Now that the plug was shrunk down to its original size it slipped easily from her stretched out asshole. Tiffany was left sobbing, naked, on the men's room floor. Bill towered over her.
"What a pathetic mess you are. You smell terrible," he admonished. "And since you managed to lose the key to your collar you will have to keep it on until I can find the spare. I'll have to come by tomorrow with it." He lifted her up off of the floor, careful to not let her lean against him. He dragged her in front of the dirt covered mirror. Tiffany saw a sad sight looking back at her. Her green hair was plastered to her head, still wet with piss. Her eyes were red and bloodshot. She trembled in exhaustion and pain. "You're not riding home with me looking like that," he continued. He fished ten dollars out of his pocket and threw it at Tiffany. "You can find your own ride home tonight."
At that Bill gathered up his things, leaving the piss soaked items, and left. Tiffany was stunned. How was she supposed to get home? She was naked, covered in urine, without her phone, and didn't even know where she was. She picked up the money and left the restroom. The bar was mostly empty, a few scattered patrons remained, nursing their drinks. They paid no attention to the naked woman passing by.
The bartender leaned over the filthy bar, smearing the grime around with his dirty rag. "Thanks for buying all the drinks tonight, darlin'," he called to her. He reached behind the bar, pulled something out and tossed it to her. Tiffany thought it was another dirty rag. "This was in the lost and found. You can have it. Come back anytime."
Tiffany looked over the items in her hands. It was a slim cotton tubetop, two sizes too small and a micro-mini skirt. She squeezed into the clothes. The top was practically painted over her tits, her pierced nipples poked out obscenely through the tight fabric. The skirt covered just about nothing. As she stepped out the door she could feel the cool night air passing over her pussy and gaping asshole.
She looked up and down the empty street trying to get her bearings. She chose a random direction and started walking. She quickly realized that walking home would not be an option, the pain in her stretched ass made walking difficult. She shuffled down back alleys in the shady neighborhood until she finally found some cross streets that she recognized.
Now that she knew where she was, she figured that she could take a bus home. She desperately hoped that she would be allowed on the bus, looking and smelling as she did. She found the nearest bus stop and waited for a bus.
As she waited, another commuter approached the stop. The old woman paused when she saw the disgusting piss-covered whore sitting on the bench waiting for the same bus, then cursed under her breath and walked away. When the bus came Tiffany meekly climbed aboard and paid the fare. "Damn, girl," the driver exclaimed, "you had a rough night?"
Tiffany ignored the question and moved to the back of the bus. All the other riders avoided eye contact, making little attempt to hide their disgust. No one wanted this piss soaked whore sitting anywhere near them.
After a ride that felt like hours, Tiffany finally made it back to her neighborhood. She shuffled towards her house. Just as she made it most of the way up her driveway she heard a gasp that she recognized as her neighbor. He was taking out the trash when he looked up and saw her. "Tiffany, you look like hell, must have had fun tonight," he called out, smirking.
Tiffany blushed, then waved the man off and entered her house. She immediately ran to the shower and held herself under the water until it ran cold. Feeling a little better after that, she crawled into bed and cried herself to sleep.
Tiffany awoke with a start the next day. Bill was standing over her bed with a shit eating grin on his face. "I hope you had a good time last night. The bartender said it was the most drinks he'd sold in years... though I'm afraid you probably bought about half of them," he chuckled. "In other news, you were a big hit on the piss whore website. Everyone is clamoring for a second performance. You could be famous. Anyway," he continued, "I suppose you want that collar off."
"Yes, sir," she said.
"I have a few tasks for you today. After you complete them we will see about taking it off. Do we have a deal?"
Tiffany just wanted to be left alone. She reached up and touched the collar locked around her neck. She certainly needed it off before work tomorrow.
"Yes, sir. We have a deal," she agreed.
Bill tore the covers off the bed and ordered Tiffany to strip. "I've got a few things to set up," he said. "Why don't you go downstairs and make us some breakfast? I like my eggs over easy."
Tiffany shuffled down the stairs. She felt stiff all over from last night's abuse, worst of all was the pain of her stretched and abused ass. Bill came down once the food was ready. He set a place for himself at the table, and a place for Tiffany beside him on the floor, explaining that slaves don't deserve to dine with their betters. He handcuffed Tiffany's hands behind her back and up to her collar then ordered her to lick her food off her plate.
After breakfast they returned to the bedroom. Tiffany saw a set of wooden stocks laying on her bed. Bill removed the handcuffs and guided her into the stocks. There were four holes, two for her wrists and two for her ankles. Once he had fastened her wrists to the inner holes and ankles to the outer holes Tiffany was left bent double with her ass in the air and her face pressed against the bed. Next he grabbed an item the size and shape of an egg and slipped it into her upturned pussy. A small wire led from the egg to a control box. Bill pressed a button and the egg came to life, vibrating in Tiffany's pussy.
Next Bill fitted a simple leather blindfold around her eyes as he explained, "Your reputation around the office continues to grow. You are becoming a legend, or at least a legendary slut. I, of course, keep my ear to the ground to feel out potential suitors. A few gentleman callers have agreed to visit you today. You are to beg and plead with each one to fuck you. Although," he said, tossing the vibrator controller on the bed, "it would appear that your pussy is otherwise occupied, so you will beg your visitors to fuck you in the ass."
Tiffany felt her heart skip a beat. Aside from the insidious implements that Bill had forced upon her she had never been fucked in the ass before. Now she was supposed to beg multiple strangers to do just that. Her ass already hurt from the stretching of yesterday's punishment, she worried what further fucking would do. "Please, sir, not that. My ass hurts so much already," she pleaded.
"This is the deal you agreed to. Besides, you have a reputation to live up to," he patted her on the "anal slut" tattoo emblazoned across her lower back then left the room.
Tiffany was left with the vibrator egg humming away in her pussy for the better part of an hour. The sensation was enough to get her worked up, but not enough to put her over the edge. By the time she heard the doorbell ring, she was thoroughly wet and horny.
She heard the door to the bedroom open and started her performance. She hesitated slightly, realizing now that the entire episode was being recorded for further humiliation and blackmail.
"Is someone there?" she called out. "I need someone to come fuck my ass hard. Please give it to me. I'm a horny cum whore and I need you inside me."
She felt cold hands run along her back as the man climbed onto the bed. She thought she recognized the smell of his aftershave from someone at the office, but she couldn't put a face to the scent. His hands lingered on her 'anal slut' tattoo before she felt his cock line up with her asshole.
"Oh yeah. Give it to me. I'm a needy anal slut," she begged. The man complied. Tiffany howled as he slammed his cock in deep. Tiffany's ass had hardly recovered from the previous night and her rapist's stiff dick tore at her anew. She moaned and squirmed as he fucked her hard. As far as he could tell she was really into it, after a few minutes he unloaded his hot, sticky cum deep in her ass. He then dismounted and left the room.
Tiffany was left alone for about fifteen minutes. The vibrator egg continued to work away inside her pussy as her previous visitor's cum dribbled out of her ass.
The next visitor entered the room and Tiffany resumed her performance, begging him to fuck her ass. Fortunately for her, between the man's small penis and his over-excitedness he quickly came and was on his way without too much trouble.
Tiffany was left once more. By now the vibrator had done its job and Tiffany was extremely turned on. When her next visitor arrived she was not pretending when she begged him to fuck her. He happily complied. As he rammed his enormous cock in and out of her tortured asshole, Tiffany came hard. She bucked and screamed for more as the man pulled his dick out of her ass and blew his load all over back. He left, and Tiffany slumped down in her bonds, satisfied.
A few minutes later Bill returned. "Nicely done, anal slut," he commented. Tiffany heard him pick up a metallic object. "It really sounded like you were having a good time with that last guy. He said that you were really into it. A real minx. Maybe we should change your name afterall. I like the sound of Tiffany Minx. What do you think?"
Tiffany stared back in silence. She knew he had the signed name change papers in his possession. She really hoped he was kidding.
"Did you cum, slave?" he asked.
"Yes, master," Tiffany admitted, embarrassed.
"Good. You won't be cumming again for a little while I'm afraid," he replied. Tiffany felt the cold touch of metal on her back as Bill placed whatever it was he was carrying on her. He fumbled with several moving parts, wrapping thin metal bands around her waist. Then she felt him pull another metal band up between her legs and lock that in place. He tore away her blindfold and Tiffany looked down at her waist. She was wearing a metal chastity belt. The hinged metal bands hugged her hips securely. The part coming up between her legs pressed tight against her clit, leaving a small slot over her pussy to allow her to piss. A similar metal part pressed over her stretched out asshole. The entire assembly was held in place by a small brass lock. Tiffany saw Bill pocket the key.
"I found this thing while I was looking for the spare key to your collar. Though I'm afraid I couldn't find that. I'm pretty sure it's in my desk somewhere. I'll get it to you tomorrow," he explained.
Tiffany's face paled. Surely she couldn't be expected to wear a collar with 'slut' written across it to work!
"Master, please," she began, but Bill cut her off.
He released her from the stocks and began to pack up his things. Tiffany shifted uncomfortably on the bed. The metal bands poking and pinching her as she moved. As Bill moved towards the door Tiffany called out, "Sir, you forgot to take the vibrator out of my pussy." The little device had continued humming away the entire time.
Bill turned back to her. "Did I?" he replied. He returned to the bed and picked up the controller. He pressed a few buttons and wound the cord up. Then he slipped the control into a little slot on the back of the chastity belt. "You seemed to enjoy it so much that I thought I'd let you keep it. Don't worry. I programmed it so that you can't turn it off. I'll have fresh batteries for you at work tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your weekend." He marched through the door and left.
Tiffany looked down at the chastity belt now locked around her waist. She probed and explored it with her fingers, it wouldn't release its tight grip on her. All the while the vibrator continued its dance inside of her.
Tiffany decided to take a bath to wash the man spunk from her body. She was half hoping that the water would short out the vibrator, but there was no such luck. As she soaked in the tub, relaxing her muscles, she found herself getting more and more worked up by the vibrator. But it never provided enough sensation to put her over the edge, nor could she find a way to work her fingers over her pussy to masturbate. She drained the water from the tub feeling more frustrated than ever.
As she stepped out of the bathroom she passed a picture of her and Jenn from back in college. A mix of anxiety, anger, and sadness washed over her. She took out her phone hoping to somehow explain what had happened. But Jenn would not take her calls, or reply to her texts. And she found that she had been blocked and unfriended on all her social media accounts. The same seemed to be true of any friends that they had in common.
Then she saw a new post pop up. Jenn had called off her wedding citing her former cheating whore best friend, Tiffany, complete with the photo Jenn took of Tiffany ass up and bound in Jenn's apartment. Tiffany was completely mortified that all her friends would now see her humiliating naked photo and there was nothing she could do about it. Frustrated and angry, Tiffany hurled her phone across the room, smashing it to pieces.
No matter what she did the rest of the day, the vibrator was a constant distraction. She found it difficult even to sleep. She laid in bed for hours staring at the ceiling in frustration until finally the batteries in the vibrator ran out. For the first time all day, she was free of the stimulation within her pussy. She drifted off to sleep, where her mind was filled with sex dreams that never ended in release.
The next day as she woke and prepared for work she opened her closet and discovered to her horror that Bill had taken away all her clothes and replaced them with items more to his liking. Apparently his tastes leaned toward tight tops and short skirts with stripper style high heels. She slipped on a tight leather bustier and matching mini skirt, hoping the thicker material might hide the outline of the metal chastity belt beneath her clothes. Though there was nothing that came even close to hiding the collar locked around her neck. She fingered the metal letters spelling 'slut' as she anxiously headed to work. She teetered into the office on heels so high she wouldn't have worn them even if she was sitting down all day.
She kept her head down and walked as quickly as possible toward Bill's office. Unfortunately she did pass several people in the hall along the way. They stared wide-eyed at her collar and provocative clothing as she zipped past.
Upon entering Bill's office he jokingly complimented her on her sexy new fashion sense. As she sat down, he slid a small brass key across his desk. Tiffany quickly grabbed it up before he decided to change his mind. With a breath of relief she removed the humiliating collar. He then ordered her to remove her skirt so that he could replace the batteries for the vibrator. After screwing the box closed Tiffany once more felt the unwelcome vibrations restart within her pussy. She pleaded for relief from the vibrator but Bill rebuffed her pleas and sent her away. On the way back to her office she crossed paths with the head of HR, who had previously admonished her for her orgasm at the senior staff meeting. The HR woman looked her up and down then shook her head disapprovingly and tsk-tsk'ed as Tiffany passed.
She returned to her desk but was hardly able to focus on anything other than the sensation in her pussy. A sensation that she was helpless to do anything about. By the end of the day she felt like her mind was in a fog. She was perpetually frustrated and turned on. She was so horny that she found herself staring at the ass of the cute intern who worked in the mailroom as he walked down the hall in front of her. She nearly followed him into the men's room before she caught herself and veered away.
The rest of the week passed in much the same way. The batteries were replaced every morning, and they wore out every night, leaving her with vivid and unsatisfactory sex dreams. She found herself making silly and stupid mistakes at work, unable to concentrate on anything outside of her overstimulated pussy.
On Thursday, she somehow managed to keep her composure long enough to pay a visit to Steven Sanders so she could flirt with him more. Bill's number two had taken quite a shining to Tiffany and she finally worked up the courage to ask him about taking Bill down.
"It's about time he got what was coming to him," Steven replied. "I'll spend some time digging through the server logs this weekend," he promised. "I've seen enough circumstantial evidence to know that he has some skeletons hiding in his closet. I'll meet up with you at the company holiday party next week and give you everything you need to destroy him."
Tiffany's heart fluttered in excitement. This was just what she needed to turn the tables on her tormentor. She practically floated back to her office, dreaming of how sweet her revenge would be.
To make things even better, when she got home that day she found a letter in her mailbox from Jax, her private investigator cousin whom she had hired to dig up dirt on Bill. The letter was disguised as run-of-the-mill junk mail to evade snooping. She tore it open and read the contents:
I've been doing some digging on this Bill guy. He looks to be involved in some pretty shady shit. You'd better be careful. I found an address for a business that he seems to have ties to. It looks promising. I'm going to check it out. I will fill you in on what I find.
Tiffany nearly pumped her fist in joy before remembering the cameras mounted all over her house. She coolly folded the letter in with the rest of the mail and tossed it in the trash. She noticed as she did so that the postmark was from a few days ago. By now Jax had probably already broken into the building and gotten her hands on even more incriminating information.
She went to sleep that night with a glimmer of hope shining through the fog that addled her brain. Her good mood wasn't even dampened when Bill changed her batteries the next day and informed her that he would be at her house at 10am on Sunday.
Chapter 6: Grayed Expectations
Tiffany was in a surprisingly good mood as 10am on Sunday approached. If she could just withstand whatever torment Bill had planned for her then by this time next week she may have enough dirt on Bill to be out from under his thumb. By now her cousin Jax must have broken into his shady business downtown and found some evidence. She eagerly checked the mail expecting the report that would set her free. Meanwhile, Steven, Bill's number two at the office, had promised to dig through the server logs this weekend and expose the skeletons hiding in that closet.
She waited in her bedroom, naked except for the chastity belt that had been locked around her waist all week. The vibrator that had been inserted into her pussy since then was once more silenced by dead batteries. Though a week's worth of sexual frustration kept her attention focused on her pussy. She had never felt so horny in her life and there was nothing that she could do about it.
She heard a thump as Bill invited himself into the house. He came upstairs and entered the bedroom glancing at the naked woman before him. He was wearing a polo shirt and khakis, looking like he was ready to spend the afternoon golfing rather than tormenting a helpless woman. The first thing he did upon entering was pluck a fresh battery from his bag and restart the vibrator in Tiffany's pussy. Tiffany moaned in arousal and frustration as the sensations within her pussy awakened once more.
"Stand up, slave," he said. He tossed her some clothing and rifled through his bag for a pair of shoes. "Get dressed. We're going out."
Tiffany sighed. She had expected this. Bill's expeditions got more bold, more painful, and more humiliating every week. She feared what this adventure would turn out to be. She unfurled the clothing that he had tossed her. It was a white, cotton tanktop. She pulled it on over her head. The hem of the shirt was just barely long enough to conceal her pussy and ass, though certainly not if she sat down. She looked down at the front of the shirt. Written in big, bold letters across her chest was the word "SLUT". Classy, Tiffany thought sarcastically as she bent down to slide her feet into the shoes. The shoes were yet another pair of the impossibly tall stripper heels that she'd been wearing all week. She buckled the white heels in place around her ankles as Bill admired her ass poking out from beneath the shirt. She stood up expecting that this was the extent of the clothing she would be wearing for this excursion. She was right.
Bill led her downstairs and into his van, the front seat, Tiffany thankfully acknowledged. She buckled up and they hit the road.
Bill broke the silence. "I couldn't help but notice that you haven't been checking your social media since you broke your phone last week. It's probably for the best. Your friends, or should I say former friends, haven't had many nice things to say about what you did to poor Jenn. I'm afraid the wedding is off and everyone blames you."
Tiffany stared daggers at Bill.
"Oh well. At least you don't have to sit through some boring wedding now," he continued. "Since you were offline I went ahead and RSVP'ed to your grandma's birthday brunch for you. I hear this place has terrific french toast."
The color drained from Tiffany's face. That's where they were going? She was going to meet her grandmother and most of the rest of her family dressed like this?
"Master, please-" she began, but Bill cut her off.
"I have reserved a table right next to yours. I will be listening, so don't go saying anything stupid. Got it?" he glared.
"Yes, sir," Tiffany mumbled submissively.
They pulled into the parking lot. Tiffany climbed out. If not for the chastity belt she'd have flashed the entire parking lot her bare pussy. She wasn't sure that this was much better.
They walked into the restaurant. Bill hurried ahead to his reserved table so that he could settle in and watch the show. Tiffany crept towards the table where her family was sitting, it seemed she was the last one to arrive. She constantly had to pull the shirt down with every step as it kept riding up her ass. Around the table were her mom, her mom's sisters (one of whom was Jax's mother), several of her cousins, and her grandma.
Trying not to be noticed, she quietly slipped into a chair next to her mother. Tiffany's mom glanced over at her and did a double take. Her jaw hung open, speechless. The next person to take notice was her twenty-something cousin, Paul. He, too, was stupified and stared captivated at his cousin's tits. Tiffany's erect pierced nipples poked obviously through the thin fabric of the shirt to stare back at him.
Grandma was the first to break the silence. "Oh my God! Tiffy, what are you wearing?" she exclaimed loudly.
Tiffany blushed bright red under the withering glare of her dear, sweet grandma. She lowered her head and mumbled a non-reply.
"You look like a two-bit hooker. What has gotten into you?" Grandma continued. "Why, if your grandfather was still alive to see you like this he would take you out back and beat some sense into you. You should be ashamed of yourself coming into this nice restaurant dressed like that."
The commotion drew the attention of Tiffany's aunts, seated on the opposite side of the table. Jax's mom looked up from the table. Her eyes were red from crying. As she focused on Tiffany a look of rage grew across her face.
"How could you show your face here? What the hell is wrong with you?" she yelled. She turned to the family to explain. "My Jax has been missing for three days. Not a peep. That's so not like her. I created a Facebook page asking everyone if they know anything at all about where she could be. And this uncaring monster," she gestured to Tiffany, her voice growing fiercer, "has been replying to every single post that Jax is just trying to get attention. Or she's off playing detective somewhere. Or she's on a bender with some new boyfriend. How could you be so heartless? So cruel?" Her aunt broke down in tears.
Tiffany's mom finally awoke from her stupor. She was nodding along with her sister's rant, her judgemental glare fixed on Tiffany. She turned now to Tiffany and said softly, "You are not welcome here. You'd better leave."
Tiffany stood up quietly. As she did so her shirt slid all the way up her waist, exposing her shackled pussy to the entire table. Her cousin's eyes nearly burst out of his head. She turned and quickly scurried out of the restaurant, tears forming in her eyes. The scene had drawn the attention of every person in the room. Their eyes followed her out of the room, every face painted with a mix of shock and amusement.
As she reached the parking lot, Bill was waiting for her with an enormous grin on his face. He handed Tiffany a small wrapped gift.
"I forgot to give this to you before," he explained. "It's a birthday gift for your grandma. You'd better run back in and deliver it to her."
A look of distress washed over Tiffany's face as he thrust the gift into her hands. She turned around and sheepishly made her way back into the restaurant. She noticed that the tag said it was from her and Jax. Not wanting to further inflame that subject, Tiffany pulled the tag off and tossed it on the ground.
The restaurant was still abuzz from the earlier scene Tiffany had caused. Everyone quickly fell silent as they saw the scantily dressed woman reenter. Tiffany sidled back to her family's table, continually pulling her shirt down at every step to cover her ass. She walked up to her grandmother and handed her the gift.
"Happy birthday, grandma," she mumbled, then turned to leave.
Her grandma accepted the gift as the rest of the table glowered at her. "Hold on a minute, dear," her grandmother called after her. "Thank you for the gift. The least I can do is open it here in front of you before you leave."
Tiffany paused. She had no idea what was in the box. She held her breath as her grandmother carefully peeled the wrapping paper away. She craned her neck to see into the box as the lid was slowly lifted, but she couldn't quite see. Then she heard her mother and grandmother gasp in unison.
"Oh my God," her grandmother called out as she dropped the box on to the table. It fell over and out tumbled a big, black, anatomically correct, ten inch dildo. It rolled to a stop next to a plate of scrambled eggs. Tiffany's mother looked up, furious. "Out! Get out!" she shrieked. "Don't come back!" She emphasized the last statement by taking her glass of water and tossing it in Tiffany's face and demanded that she take the dildo with her. Tiffany's mother turned to grandma, profusely apologizing for Tiffany's behavior. Tiffany, stunned by her mother's rebuke, turned again to leave. The water had thoroughly soaked her tanktop, rendering it essentially transparent. She may as well have been naked as she scurried out with the entire room gawking at her, the enormous dildo flopping around in her hands.
She met Bill back at his van. He was laughing hard at Tiffany's humiliation. "Nicely done. Did you see the look on your grandma's face when she opened that box? Priceless," he chuckled. He reached again into his bag. "I've got one more thing for you to give them."
Tiffany's heart stopped. She waited for Bill to pull something else out of his bag.
"Nah, I'm just fucking with you. Let's go," he said with a grin. Tiffany reached for the passenger side door. Bill grabbed her wrist. "Tut tut, you'll be riding in the back for this next part," he said sternly.
Tiffany gulped. Nothing good came out of riding in the back.
They walked behind the van and Bill threw open the doors, then gave Tiffany a shove to "help" her inside. As she tumbled in Bill climbed after her. With one smooth movement he yanked her wet shirt off over her head. He quickly knocked her back to the floor and with a pair of tight leather straps locked her ankles to her thighs. He then lifted her up and set her back against a post rising from the floor. Tiffany balanced on her knees as further straps encircled her neck, chest, and midsection, locking her firmly in place. The tight strap around her neck left her gasping for air, barely able to breathe. He then attached leather cuffs to her wrists and locked those in place to the post just above her head. For a final touch he lifted each knee and slid under a thin plastic mat. Each mat was studded with short, pointed plastic spikes. Tiffany protested as the spikes dug into her knees, making it impossible to find a painfree spot to kneel.
Bill stepped back and withdrew a pair of nipple clamps from the wall. He snapped each one in place on Tiffany's nipples. She winced as each clamp bit down. Once they we're affixed Bill reached on to each clamp and flipped a switch. The clamps each began gently vibrating, stimulating Tiffany's nipples as it pinched them.
"Please, sir, no more," Tiffany begged.
Bill ignored her pleas and pulled out a large chunk of rubber. It was shaped so that when he shoved the mass into her mouth it pressed her jaw impossibly wide and filled her mouth full to the point of gagging. She might have been able to work the gag loose after a while since it wasn't strapped in place. However, Bill solved that problem by taking out a black leather hood. He yanked it over her head and pulled it as tight as possible.
Tiffany was now left trapped in darkness kneeling against the post on little plastic spikes. The vibrator within her pussy continued buzzing away, its sensations equally matched by the vibrating nipple clamps attached to her tits. She could not see, but she felt the van shift as Bill exited the rear and moved to the driver's seat. A few moments later and the van lurched as Bill drove to whatever awful destination was next.
After about thirty minutes she felt the van stop and remain motionless for a short while. She assumed they had arrived at whatever location they were headed to, and that she would be released. However, minutes dragged on and no one came. She shifted uncomfortably on her knees, but there was no position where the little spikes did not press painfully into her. All the while, the vibrators continued their work. Tiffany did not think that she could be any more stimulated than she had been all week, but the nipple clamps added an additional dimension to her misery. Her pussy dripped freely, running down her leg and pooling on the floor.
She was left in the van for what felt like hours with nothing to focus on but the sensations on her pussy and tits. The tight leather hood was stifling and her knees begged for relief. Finally, after such a long time she felt the van shift as someone climbed in the back. She felt hands tugging at the cords binding her hood, then a cool wave of fresh air hit her face as the hood was pulled free.
Tiffany looked up and saw a stranger staring back at her. He was a big muscular man with a shaved head and a black eye. He reached forward and removed the gag from her mouth. Tiffany flexed her jaw as the man looked with amusement at the puddle of pussy juice beneath her. He dipped two fingers in the puddle and smeared her pussy juice all over her face. Then he shoved his fingers in her mouth and forced her to lick them clean.
Finished toying with her, he pulled the nipple clamps free and began unbuckling the straps that held her in place. Tiffany collapsed to the floor, her aching knees unable to hold her any longer. The stranger scooped her up and removed her from the van. The cool night air suggested that she had been in the van for the entire afternoon. The man pulled her to her feet and shoved her towards a nearby door. She wobbled along, still wearing the stripper heels, her knees ached with every step.
She stepped inside and immediately recognized the place as the fetish club she had visited several weeks ago. The furniture had been rearranged, with all the tables removed and several rows of chairs arranged in the open area in the middle. They were occupied by several dozen well-dressed men and women, quietly watching the proceedings on a raised platform on one side of the room.
On the platform was a young woman tied standing between two tall posts that extended to the ceiling. The posts were about two feet apart. Her wrists and elbows had been tied to each pole just above head height and her knees and ankles were likewise tied to each pole. The woman, stretched tight between the two poles, was unable to close her legs or twist her torso more than a few inches, which was unfortunate as a masked man in front of the woman swung a thin length of wire repeatedly at her exposed breasts and a masked woman standing behind the bound woman swung a stranded leather whip up between her legs, crashing it over and over into her howling victim's pussy.
The bound woman wore a tight latex catsuit. It covered her entire body except for several cutouts on her tits, ass and pussy. Her feet were enclosed in tight black leather stiletto boots. Over her head was a leather hood pulled so tight that one could clearly see the girl's features underneath. The hood had a mouth hole which was filled with an enormous red ball gag. It had eyeholes as well, which were covered by odd looking welder's goggles. The lenses were mirrored so her eyes could not be seen, but she was able to see out. Her head bobbed erratically as the sadistic duo continued the whipping. The pair worked in tandem as they took turns swinging their vicious instruments in a steady rhythm. The girl's tits were striped red and her pussy was swollen and glowing red from the assault.
Tiffany was captivated by the scene before her. Even in her time in the clutches of Bill she had not seen such shocking brutality. The glee of the two tormentors and the rapt audience made her feel sick. The gruff man who had led her in guided her over to one of the tables on the side of the room. There Bill sat sipping a drink, taking in the show up on stage. He turned to Tiffany as she approached him.
"Quite a performance, don't you think? How would you like to join in?" he asked.
A shiver ran down Tiffany's spine. "Master, I- ," she began, but Bill cut her off. He signaled to the pair of sadists on the stage and they ceased their whipping of the poor, bound girl. They put down their implements, took a bow, and rejoined the cheering audience. Bill stood up and guided Tiffany to the stage. "Let's have some fun," he said coolly.
He paused just before the stage. "I bet you'd like to have that chastity belt removed," he said.
"Oh yes, sir, please," Tiffany begged.
"Here's how it's going to go. You will go up on stage and give our guest twenty five strokes on the back of her thighs with this." He handed her a thin wooden cane. "Once you have finished I will give you the key and you can rub one out for us. I know you've been kept on edge all week. I bet you're just dying to pet that sweet pussy of yours."
Tiffany gave a wary look at the bound girl up on stage. "Don't hold back. We'll know, and the stroke won't count. Have fun," he gave her a pat on the ass and went to take a seat in the front row.
Tiffany walked slowly up on stage, her stripper heels clicking softly on the floor. The bound girl was softly sobbing, her head hung limp. Up close Tiffany could see the damage that the whips had wrought on the girl's tits and pussy, each area was severely inflamed and glowing red.
Someone called up from the crowd, "Give her a kiss." Tiffany looked to Bill, he nodded. She lifted the girl's chin gently with her hand and planted a kiss square on the ball gag that was rammed into the girl's mouth. The girl stopped sobbing as she looked up and saw Tiffany. She began pulling against her bonds, futile as that was, and making noises into her gag. Tiffany couldn't make out what she was trying to say, but she could imagine it was something along the lines of 'no more.' She walked around behind the girl so that she could begin.
She grabbed the cane firmly in her hand and slashed it down hard across the back of the girl's legs. The latex catsuit covering her legs did nothing to lessen the blow as the girl shrieked into her gag. Tiffany's arm was shaking as she lined up for the next swing. How could anyone do this to another person she thought? The next blow was significantly weaker. The girl still yelped as the cane crashed down, but Tiffany heard Bill clear his throat. She looked over to see him shaking his head. That blow didn't count.
Tiffany refocused. She put the suffering of the girl out of her mind and began landing strike after strike. The girl screamed and struggled all through the assault. Finally the twenty sixth blow landed. Tiffany dropped the cane and it rattled to the ground. She flinched as Bill tossed her the key to her chastity belt from his place in the audience. She quickly dropped to her hands and knees to scoop up the key.
Tiffany regained her feet as she leaned over and unlocked the chastity belt. The sense of relief was incredible as the dreaded metal enclosure was removed for the first time in a week. Once the belt was removed the vibrating egg slipped easily out of her wet pussy. The belt had hardly rattled to a rest on the floor before Tiffany's hand shot to her pussy and began vigorously rubbing her neglected bits. She completely ignored where she was and who was watching as she lost herself in the pleasure that she had been denied all week. She moaned and panted. She lost her balance and found herself leaning against one of the posts holding the tortured girl in place as the feelings took over. In mere moments her stroking pulled her over the edge. Her vision grew dim and her knees grew weak as the most powerful orgasm she'd ever had washed over her. She fell to her knees, completely satisfied and exhausted.
The room filled with applause. Tiffany blushed as she once again became aware of her surroundings. She slunk to the floor as the applause died down and Bill climbed up on stage, now wearing a mask. He lifted Tiffany back to her feet.
"Well done, slave," he beemed. "Now for the next challenge." He handed Tiffany a thin strip of paper. It looked like a paint sample card from a hardware store. There were five small squares of color printed on the strip, ranging from a light pink on top to a reddish-purple on the bottom. Bill pointed to the square that was second from the bottom, it was a bright red.
"You will be given ten minutes to give our *ahem* volunteer here a spanking that brings her ass to this shade of red. If you fail, then we will bring in some more experienced help, who will spank both of you until you are this shade," he said, gesturing to the reddish-purple on the bottom of the card.
"Let's get your partner into position," he continued. From the back of the platform a man dragged a frame to the front and secured it to the floor. The frame resembled a sawhorse, a horizontal bar supported on each end by two sturdy legs. He then stalked over to the sobbing girl and removed her goggles. The girl's bright green eyes pleaded with Tiffany for help, but there was nothing she could do.
Next the man flashed a knife. With the deft moves of a practiced hand he hacked away the latex catsuit covering the tortured girl. Underneath was a medley of heretofore unseen cuts, bruises, welts and even a few burns. Tiffany gasped at the severity of the injuries. This girl had been through hell. A tattoo on the girl's forearm caught her eye through the other marks. It looked familiar, but she couldn't remember where she had seen it before.
Once the catsuit had fallen away the man moved to the hood. He loosened the bindings in the back and tugged the tight leather loose. Tiffany gasped as she saw a flash of purple hair peek through.
"No!" she exclaimed. It couldn't be. But as the man pulled the gag free and slipped the hood from her head, Tiffany saw all too clearly who it was she had just beaten with a cane: her cousin, Jax.
Tiffany fell to her knees in shock. "Jax! No! I'm so sorry. I had no idea," she sobbed. Jax was too hoarse to reply. She collapsed into the arms of the man who had unbound her from the posts where she had received her latest thrashing. The man dragged the weakened woman over to the sawhorse and bent her over it. As she was strapped in place Bill picked Tiffany up from the ground.
"I see you know our friend here. We found her trying to break into one of our offices downtown. After some persuasive interrogation she revealed to us that she was investigating me on behalf of a friend. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, slave?" he asked with venom in his voice.
Tiffany was speechless. She had tasked Jax to dig up dirt on Bill to bring him down. Earlier in the week she had notified Tiffany that she was investigating a lead. Apparently that plan had gone awry.
Jax was secured over the sawhorse. Her white ass sticking up in the air was just about the only unmarked part of her body. Bill handed Tiffany a large wooden paddle. It was broad and flat on one end, with a narrow leather wrapped handle on the other.
"Better get to work. You have a job to do," Bill gestured to a timer on the wall that had begun counting down from ten minutes.
Tiffany was dumbfounded. How could she paddle the ass of her cousin in front of a room full of sadists? A girl whom it was Tiffany's fault that she was here. Tiffany rested the paddle against the sawhorse and bent down next to Jax's face.
"I'm so sorry. I had no idea. What have they done to you?" Tiffany gushed. Jax only replied with sobs.
Looking up at the timer Tiffany stood up once more and picked up the paddle. It was one thing to whip a hooded, anonymous slave; it was entirely different to paddle the ass of her poor, beaten cousin. Tiffany lifted the paddle and sent a half-strength swing into Jax's exposed ass. Jax swayed and gasped. Tiffany surveyed the area of the impact, there was hardly any sign of the strike. Tiffany fretted as the timer showed two minutes elapsed. She wound up and swung again, this time a little harder. Jax moaned as the blow landed on her ass. She shook her head vigorously, pleading for her to stop. Tiffany was in a bind, she didn't want to hurt Jax, but if she didn't swing harder then there was no way that she would get her ass red enough for them both to avoid further punishment. She settled for lighter strokes like the first one that she had delivered, hoping that enough light hits would do the job. She focused on the task at hand and began swinging away. She would pause when she felt that it was getting too intense for her cousin. Slowly the poor girl's ass began to show a light pink.
Tiffany appraised the girl's ass and lined up for another blow. As she pulled the paddle back a strong hand grasped her wrist and twisted her arm up behind her back. The paddle clattered to the floor as the muscular, bald man with the black eye held Tiffany firmly in place. Tiffany glanced over at the clock reading all zeroes as Bill walked up on the stage. He pulled out the color key card and held it next to Jax's quivering bum. He eyed it like an art appraiser, putting a big show of analyzing the comparison, but as soon as he had held up the key Tiffany could see that the color hardly matched even the lightest shade of pink.
"Tsk, tsk," Bill admonished. Tiffany stared in horror as another sawhorse was assembled and attached to the floor next to Jax.
"No, wait! Give me another chance," she pleaded as she was tipped over the horse. Her wrists and ankles were secured to the legs of the horse. Her ass was thrust up into the air, exposed.
"We have been generous enough, slave," Bill growled. "It seems that you just can't avoid letting your cousin down. We'll let Boris here show you how the job is done." He handed the paddle to the muscular man. "He's been itching to get his hands on Jax anyway since she gave him that black eye on the night that he caught her." Bill turned to the men who had strapped Tiffany in place. "You'd better gag the girls. I suspect things might get a little raucous in here." He stepped back and each girl was fitted with a large red ballgag. "Boris, do your worst."
The muscular man nodded and stepped forward. He loosened his shoulders and cracked his thick neck as he lined the paddle up with Tiffany's exposed ass. He pulled the paddle back, and paused. Tiffany tensed, expecting the blow to crash down, the suspense was terrible. Just as she relaxed, he swung. The blow hit with such force that Tiffany was thrown forward into the sawhorse. Her ass lit up like it was on fire. She shrieked into her gag.
Boris didn't pause to relish the superb strike he had just landed. Instead he turned to Jax and delivered an equally devastating blow to the terrified girl. She shrieked as the blow slammed her forward into the horse and stung her ass.
Without missing a beat the burly man turned his attention back to Tiffany, who was still feeling the agony of the first strike. The second was even worse. The pain layered neatly atop the original blow, compounding her misery. Already her ass glowed bright red as if to emphasize the fact that he could achieve Tiffany's failed goal in two strikes when she could not do it in ten minutes. But this achievement did not slow him one bit. He continued to turn from screaming, blubbering girl to screaming, blubbering girl landing every strike just as hard as the first.
After nearly twenty minutes of one of the most intense ass-whooping sessions ever Boris finally let the paddle clatter to the ground. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead and stepped back with a satisfied look on his face. The two girls remained strapped to the horses with their bruised asses fading into a deep, dark, black and blue. Each girl had tears streaming down their face, their asses in extreme pain.
Bill retook the stage grinning from ear to ear. "Fantastic job, Boris. We might have to add a new color to our key card to reflect what you've accomplished here," he announced. He stepped next to Tiffany and brushed his hand gently against her bruised skin. Even such a gentle gesture caused Tiffany to wince in pain. He walked over to Jax and massaged her hot, battered ass. Jax jumped and screamed like she was being murdered.
"Ok," he said turning to the crowd. "You've all waited patiently while enjoying the show. But now let's have some audience participation. Come show the girls how horny they've made you."
He didn't need to say anything more. The members of the audience poured on stage and lined up. Tiffany trembled as the first cock lined up behind her. The man thrust deep into her pussy. She howled into her gag as the sadist slapped her ass while he fucked her. As soon as he came another eager rapist took his place. Meanwhile Jax was servicing the other half of the audience. She screamed as cock after cock slammed into her pussy. It was especially bad for her, considering that not too long ago she had received such a savage pussy whipping. Some of the visitors were uninterested in sloppy seconds, so instead of pounding the girls' pussies they switched to fucking their paddled asses. The screams went up an octave as the men slammed into their bruised bottoms.
Even the women in the crowd joined in. They donned unreasonably large strap-ons, then picked a hole and fucked away. When they were done they'd turn their attention to the girls' tits, pinching and twisting nipples. They particularly liked massaging Jax's whipped tits.
Eventually everyone looking to be serviced had their turn. The girls were left draped over the horses, cum dripping from their holes, crying. Bill approached Tiffany and unstrapped her from the horse. She stood shakily on her feet as she was pulled upright and her gag was removed.
"That was some fun," he said. "But look at this mess." He gestured to Jax, who was barely conscious, moaning to herself. "Why don't you lick your cousin clean, slave? It's the least you can do. After all, she had to miss your grandma's birthday today. Though she did have a part in the gift you gave. It was buried in her ass for the past few days." Tiffany cringed at the thought of that large dildo from earlier today rammed into her cousin's ass. She obediently dropped to her knees behind her cousin.
Jax perked up as Tiffany's soft tongue began licking the cum that was dripping out of her swollen pussy. Even the gentle licks were enough to agitate the welts and bruises that had been laid across her pussy and legs. Tiffany felt particularly bad as her tongue passed over the bright red cane stripes that she had put across the backs of Jax's thighs. At last she made it to her cousin's battered butthole, she had to spread her asscheeks to get access to the girl's stretched asshole. As she did so Jax shrieked from the touch on her purple, bruised ass. Finally she finished. Bill tapped Tiffany on the shoulder to summon her back to her feet.
"That's enough," he said. "There'll be plenty of time to eat out your cousin's ass some other time. As for now, I think it is time for you to be punished for your betrayal. We had a deal. No part of that deal allowed for you to hire the worst private eye in the world to investigate me."
Tiffany felt her stomach drop. Hadn't she been punished enough? What more could he do to her?
The answer was wheeled onto the stage.
Chapter 7: Fade to Black
Tiffany looked over at a large crate being rolled onto the stage. This was to be her punishment for sending her cousin, Jax, to investigate Bill.
Bill smiled as he launched into one of his monologues that tended to precede her punishments. "There's a lot of excitement in my IT department at work this week. We're finally getting our new server," he began. "It's really something special. I won't bore you with too many details. But the amazing thing is how small they can make the equipment these days. The only problem is that the server racks that we mount them in are all sized for the behemoth equipment from a few decades ago. That leaves a lot of wasted space inside the rack. Fortunately I have devised an efficient use for the space. You'll see in just a few minutes, slave. But first we have some prep work."
Strong arms grabbed Tiffany and held her as Bill began pulling items out. Things that weeks ago Tiffany wouldn't know what they were, but now were becoming all too familiar. The first item was a corset, the very same one she had been wearing all day in the back of the van. It was fastened around her waist and squeezed it impossibly small. Tiffany felt like her ribs might crack if they had pulled it any tighter.
As she gasped for breath someone grabbed her foot in a vice-like grip and began ramming her foot into a cramped ballet shoe. The sole of the shoe was lined in metal, holding her foot pointed straight down. After the first foot was locked in, her next foot was roughly grabbed. Tiffany attempted to balance on her toes, but the sudden pain and her wary position caused her to fall back onto a table. She immediately jumped back to her feet as a severe pain flashed through her freshly bruised ass. She balanced precariously, holding onto her captor as he rammed her second foot into a matching ballet shoe.
Tiffany was left teetering on her pained toes, to the delight of everybody, while the next items were gathered. The hood that Jax had been wearing earlier in the night was dropped into a bucket. Several of the remaining spectators stepped up and pissed into the bucket, filling it with enough urine to entirely cover the hood. The dry leather began to soak up the piss. While that was happening a broad, stiff leather collar was fitted snugly around her neck. The collar covered nearly her entire neck and prevented her from moving her head much in any direction.
Tiffany was now unable to look down, but could clearly tell by sharp pinch between her legs that she had been fitted with a catheter. The long tube attached to it brushed against her thigh. Next a broad rubber dildo was shoved into her hands. She was ordered to wet it, which she eagerly did since she figured she knew where it was going. She was unable to fit the eight inch long and two inch wide dildo entirely inside her mouth, so she ran her tongue up and down the smooth shaft. After a few moments it was yanked from her hands and unceremoniously rammed deep into her pussy. Tiffany gasped as the dildo slammed hard into her cervix.
She was then presented with a metal buttplug to lubricate. She slobbered all over the four inch long and one inch wide plug before it, too, was taken from her hands and slammed into her well-fucked asshole. A thin strap was attached to the front of her corset and run between her legs, then attached to the back of the corset. The strap was just slightly too short and dug harshly into her flesh, but served to hold everything securely in place.
The next item confused and frightened Tiffany. It was essentially a bra, however, the cups were much thicker and appeared to be lined with little metal spikes. Her tits were carefully guided into the cups and the bra was secured over her shoulders and around her back. To her relief, the cups were not small enough for the spikes to do more than lightly scrape her skin as it was pulled on. Her relief was short-lived as her captor tapped a release at the tip of each cup and a pair of sharp teeth embedded in the front of each cup snapped shut on her tender nipples. Tiffany nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden unexpected assault on her sensitive flesh. She shrieked and tried to pull away. Her resistance was met with a sharp slap to the face. Her cheek stung as a bright red handprint appeared.
Now that her hands were no longer needed, they were balled into fists and enclosed in tight leather gloves which prevented her from so much as wiggling a finger. Her elbows were pulled together behind her back and belted together with a leather strap. Then her arms were pulled in front of her and her wrists locked together with a pair of handcuffs. The chain was short enough that with her elbows trapped behind her back she was unable to move her arms from her sides.
The leather hood was finally soaked through with piss. The dripping item was hauled out of the bucket and flopped on top of Tiffany's head. She cringed and struggled as the tepid, pungent piss soaked her hair, covered her face, and ran down her back. Before tightening it down, fingers reached up under the wet leather and slipped a set of earbuds into her ears. A red ballgag was jammed into her mouth. The hood was then pulled brutally tight. Tiffany felt her head crushed beneath the leather hood. The smell of piss permeated her nose. Her mouth was smashed hard into the gag. A small tube was fed into a hole in the middle of the gag.
Through the small eyeholes in the hood Tiffany could see her captors dragging her new prison front and center. From the outside it looked like a standard server rack, essentially a big metal box that was two feet wide, three feet deep, and about seven feet tall. The front door of the rack was lined with a two way mirror, the reflective side out. The actual server hardware occupied the top few feet of the rack, leaving lots of empty space on the bottom.
Tiffany was guided into the enclosed space facing forward. There was a narrow one foot ledge on the back wall, about two feet from the bottom. Tiffany was roughly shoved down so her ass rested on the shelf. The impact of her severely bruised ass on the shelf hit Tiffany like a hammer. She tried to jump back to her feet, but strong hands held her firmly in place while she squealed into her gag. While she was held in a sitting position another pair of hands grabbed each ballet-booted foot and guided the toe into a slot set in the floor. Each boot locked into place with a click, Tiffany was trapped with her toes pointing straight down into the floor, her feet several inches apart.
As soon as her feet were locked into place the hands holding her down on the little bench were released. Tiffany immediately sprang to her feet, seeking relief for her aching ass. She found that by pressing her back against the rear wall of the rack that she was able to prop herself up and avoid sitting on the bench. Though now nearly all her weight rested on her pointed toes. Several wires and tubes were run to varying parts within the rack and attached to Tiffany. She saw someone attach an item to the shelf beneath her ass and screw it in place, but she couldn't make out what it was.
With Tiffany more or less in place the crew of sadists closed up the rack. From behind the two way mirror Tiffany could see out of the rack, though they could not see in. A handcart appeared and the rack was tipped onto it to be loaded onto a truck. As the enclosure tipped back on the handcart Tiffany was thrown back down on to the shelf, but this time to her horror she found that it was lined with sharp wooden spikes! The spikes were large enough and dull enough that they didn't pierce her skin, but they made any contact with the shelf excruciating on her battered ass. She quickly jumped back to her toes as the rack was loaded into the back of a truck.
After a short drive, the door to the truck was flung open and the handcart made another appearance. This time Tiffany braced herself as the rack was tipped back onto the cart so that she wouldn't fall on the vicious spiked bench. She recognized the halls of her office building as she was wheeled along, stopping outside the server room. The building was empty with it being a late in the day on a Sunday, but even if it hadn't been no one would have thought that the delivery of a new server was unusual.
The rack was wheeled into the room and placed facing the door next to a similar looking server rack. Tiffany couldn't help but wonder if anyone was bound and tortured within that rack, too. Once she was in position the men began running various power and networking cables into the ports. A keyboard, mouse, and monitor were mounted on the outside directly in front of Tiffany. When they were finished the men shook hands with Bill and left.
Now alone with poor, trapped Tiffany, Bill approached her prison and stopped in front of her. He plugged a small microphone into a port and began talking, his words were routed directly to the earbuds within Tiffany's tightly bound hood.
"Welcome to my server room, slave. You will be here for a couple days so that you can think about how you betrayed me and atone for your transgressions. I think you will find that it is exceedingly unpleasant. Allow me to give you some of the highlights of your new home.
I'm sure that by now you've found our improvement to the bench mounted beneath your ass. I imagine it'd be very unpleasant to sit on even if your ass wasn't recently given the beating it so soundly deserved. I bet you think you can just prop yourself against the back wall and avoid sitting down. I doubt your toes or legs can hold out that long, but we've got an extra little something for you while you're in that position. Whenever any part of your body touches the walls inside the rack it will activate the vibrator buried in your pussy. It's just a little something to keep that trashy pussy occupied. We know you're just a big cum whore, after all.
Next, we have that wonderful bra strapped to your tits. The insides of the cups are lined with sharp metal pins. Each pin is associated with one of the keys on this keyboard." He held up the keyboard mounted in front of the server. "When someone presses a key, the corresponding pin with jab into your tit. Allow me to demonstrate."
He quickly ran his fingers across the keyboard, typing a sentence. Tiffany jumped as her bra came alive poking and stabbing her all over her tits. She shrieked into her gag as her tits were assaulted over and over from a dozen different angles.
"Pretty neat, huh? I'm sure my guys will be busy typing away tomorrow as they configure the server. Too bad they won't know what their keystrokes are doing to you. There are a few special keys we've rigged up as well. Do you know what the three most commonly used keys on a keyboard are? It's the 'backspace', the 'spacebar', and the letter 'e'. We've rigged the spacebar up to deliver a small shock to those perky clamped nipples you've got. And the backspace will give you a shock to that buttplug you have rammed in your ass. Let's give those a try."
He first tapped the spacebar. Tiffany jumped as the shock was delivered to her tits. It was an altogether different sensation than the stabbing of the pins, but just as horrible. He then held down the spacebar. Tiffany shrieked and bounced as her tits were jolted the entire time he pressed the key. She was left gasping for breath when he finally relented.
Next he hovered his finger menacingly over the backspace key. Tiffany watched in rapt horror as he toyed with the key before finally jabbing his finger down on the key over and over. Tiffany nearly jumped out of her skin. She arched her back and screamed as a series of short blasts rocked her ass. A huge smile was drawn across his face when he stopped.
"Good thing for you that my guys are the best. They don't make mistakes, right? ...I wish I could've seen your face just now. I guess I'll just have to review the video later. You are, of course, being recorded in there. Speaking of which, I don't want you to get too bored so I'll be hooking your earbuds up to a soundtrack of our time together. You can pass the hours reminiscing. But anyway, enough blathering on. I need to get home and get to bed. I've got to be back here bright and early tomorrow morning. I'll give you a drink before I go. I don't want you to be uncomfortable," he laughed.
Bill unplugged his microphone, then popped open a concealed door on the side of the rack. He took a bottle of water and poured it into a small opening. Tiffany felt the cool water trickling through the tube in her gag. She eagerly gulped it down. After he finished, Bill got a sinister look on his face as an idea popped into his head. He unzipped his pants and lined his dick up with the opening. Tiffany moaned her displeasure as the warm salty piss passed over her tongue. She gulped it down, the foul liquid settled uneasily in her stomach.
Before he left for the night, Bill plugged in a few more things and flipped some switches. Tiffany was left, alone, trapped in the server room. Almost immediately she felt the large dildo buried in her pussy spring to life. It buzzed away, as Bill had explained, while she remained up on her toes with her back braced against the rear of the cabinet. The sensation was not unpleasant and Tiffany began to feel herself responding to the sensation.
At the same time that the dildo activated Tiffany was also blasted with a high volume audio track pumped into her earbuds. It began with Tiffany reading the slavery 'contract' the first night that Bill came to her house. It then proceeded to play the sounds of Tiffany fucking herself with her dildo, her humiliating presentation to the executives, and her begging to be fucked, first in the pussy and later in the ass. It even included the audio from earlier in the evening when she received a beating on her ass with the paddle. When the entire sequence finished, it repeated again from the beginning.
Tiffany looked up at the clock on the wall opposite her position. It was just after midnight, and promised to be a very long night.
Tiffany's legs ached horribly. She had been holding herself up off the spiked bench for a while now. Her toes, jammed inside the ballet boots, bore the brunt of her weight. Her thighs quivered as they braced her against the back of the rack. The entire time the vibrator had been working away inside her pussy. Unlike the egg that was her constant companion while she wore the chastity belt, this dildo was clearly intended to make her cum.
Despite her predicament Tiffany found the dildo worked her up more and more. Her pussy dripped freely. Little drops of pussy juice trickled down her leg. Tiffany felt her breath growing short. She moaned along with the sensations building inside her. Finally she could hold back no longer. She came long and hard as she wriggled her hips, taking in the full effect of the dildo inside her. As she came her legs quivered and turned to jelly. She collapsed, breathless, onto the bench. This, she quickly realized, was the absolute worst thing she could do. The spikes slammed hard into her bruised ass, exacerbating the agony her rear was already in. She shrieked into her gag. The euphoria of her orgasm completely evaporated. She scrambled back to her toes, crying in pain. This, of course, restarted the vibrator within Tiffany's pussy.
The second orgasm came more slowly. Tiffany realized with fear that she could not resist the machinations of the dildo forever. The pain in her ass reminded her of the consequences of losing control for only a second. She resisted as best as she could, but panic accompanied the pleasure as she worked closer to the edge. Thinking ahead this time, Tiffany thought to head off the weakness in her legs. Slowly she lowered herself onto the spikes. She moaned as the sharp tips dug into her bruised ass.
She was momentarily confused when the vibrator stopped before realizing that she was no longer propped against the wall of the rack, which was the trigger for the vibrator to operate. She grunted in frustration, then tipped herself back to make contact with the wall. This dug the spikes deeper into her ass, but restarted the vibrator. As the sensations carried her over the edge once more she had to fight herself to avoid thrusting her hips and shaking her legs, lest she bounce around too much on the spikes. It was a battle she fought poorly. Her legs trembled as a second orgasm rocked her body. Her moans turned to screams as her gyrations again drove the spikes into her punished ass.
She forced her tired legs to lift her up off the spikes again as the spasms inside her pussy subsided. Her legs protested the effort to lift her once again, but she did it anyway. She leaned once again on the wall of the rack. The vibrator continued. Her pussy ached from overstimulation. She was sure that she couldn't take much more. She looked over at the clock on the wall. The night was still young.
By seven in the morning Tiffany had lost count of how many times she had cum. She was exhausted. She longed to curl up in a corner somewhere and sleep. Instead she found herself trapped in a box at her workplace.
By now the wet leather hood had dried. The leather shrunk as it did so, crushing her head in the stiff material. That, combined with the lack of sleep left Tiffany with a pounding headache. She couldn't even take a deep breath due to the excruciatingly tight corset. The recorded sounds of her moans and screams continued endlessly playing in her ears. Her legs protested holding her up any longer. Her toes ached from the constant pressure of her body weight. Her ass trembled from the beating the previous day and from the pain of the spikes she was trying so hard to avoid. The vibrator no longer provided pleasure to her overstimulated pussy, just a new form of pain and discomfort. Nevertheless it droned away within her, agitating her sensitive pussy.
She was snapped out of her miserable trance by movement on the side of the room. Someone had entered. Tiffany recognized the man as one of Bill's underlings, some nobody IT drone that buzzed around the office all day. He sipped his coffee while he browsed the internet on one of the other computers in the room, completely oblivious to the suffering woman a few feet away from him. After a few minutes he strolled over to take a look at the new server. He stepped in front of the keyboard and cracked his knuckles.
Tiffany stared in abject horror as he moved his hands to the keyboard and logged in. The night's trials had caused the memory of the pins on her tits to fade. A sudden and severe reminder flashed across her chest as the man began hacking away at the keys. Tiffany screamed as dozens of little pins pecked and poked at her tits. The attacks were interspersed with jolts to her nipples as the spacebar key was peppered amongst the keypresses.
If there was any hope that the man would hear her suffering and come to her rescue, it was quickly dashed as the man carried on with his work. Between the soundproofing of the server rack, the gag and collar, the noise of the fans, and the general din of the server room, there was no chance for Tiffany's agony to be noticed. For nearly half an hour the man pecked away at the keyboard. Tiffany relished the few moments of relief when the man stopped to think, or moved his hand to the mouse. But dread, followed by pain, soon returned as the man resumed. He had began to hit the backspace key more and more as he worked. Tiffany's agony went up a level as electric shocks rocked her ass. By the time the man finished and walked away Tiffany was left trembling and exhausted. She sobbed quietly to herself as she fought to remain upright, off of the spiked bench.
She was given a brief respite while the room was empty. But her break did not last long, another of Bill's underlings entered and got straight to work configuring the new server. Tiffany once again endured the agony of having her tits shocked and stabbed. This new visitor was not nearly as accurate a typist as the first man and he frequently sent shocks to Tiffany's tortured ass as he corrected his errors. When he finally finished nearly an hour later Tiffany was a blubbering mess.
The stress in her legs had become too much. She decided that she must lower herself to the spikes to try and find relief. As slowly as she could, she lowered herself onto the spikes. She gasped as even a slight pressure on her bruised ass cheeks lit up her pain receptors. Still, she gradually increased her weight, the desire for relief for her legs was greater than the pain in her ass. Having shifted the pain from her legs and toes to her ass, Tiffany closed her eyes to try and rest.
Somehow she nodded off, the exhaustion was simply too much. She awoke some time later screaming. Someone was holding down the backspace key, sending a relentless unending shock to her ass. Her muscles spasmed and she bounced up and down on the spiked bench over and over. When the shock finally ceased Tiffany was left gasping. She opened up her eyes to see Bill standing before her with a maniacal grin plastered on his face.
He plugged his microphone into the port. "Wakey, wakey, slave," he cooed. "I was just checking the video feed and noticed that you nodded off. Is this too dull for you? Do I need to make things more interesting?"
Tiffany had no way to reply. Bill just shrugged.
"I brought you some lunch," he shook a cloudy water bottle. "It's not much. Just some ground up tuna in a bottle of piss. Enjoy. I'll check back with you at the end of the day."
He unplugged the microphone and took the top off the bottle. He took a whiff and made a face, then poured the contents into the opening. Tiffany gagged as the foul mixture trickled down her throat. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until she had something in her stomach. The refreshment revived her somewhat. Her ass was in agony from napping atop the spikes. Her leg muscles had stiffened while she rested, but she forced herself up off the bench to relieve her aching ass.
Bill walked toward the door to leave. Just before he left the door swung open and Steven Sanders walked in. Tiffany's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her soon-to-be savior. By now he had probably acquired the compromising data on Bill that he had promised to deliver to her on Wednesday at the holiday party. The mere sight of him filled her with hope that she could still get herself out from under Bill's influence.
Bill spent a minute talking to Steven about something. Tiffany could hear nothing within her awful prison. He gestured several times in Tiffany's direction. Steven frowned. He appeared to argue with Bill briefly then shrugged and walked towards the server. Bill left the room.
Frowning, Steven stepped up to the keyboard. Tiffany swooned at the sight of her savior, then screamed as he got to work furiously pounding away at the keys. Tiffany had no idea what he was working on as he relentlessly hacked away, but whatever it was involved liberal use of the backspace key. Her ass received shock after shock after shock. Ever the diligent worker, Steven continued for an hour and a half before finally logging off and leaving the room. Tiffany's tits felt like they'd been run through a woodchipper. She blubbered to herself in her miserable, uncomfortable prison.
Tiffany received several more brief visits from workers coming to configure the server. But finally as five o'clock approached, the building quieted down. At six Bill reentered the room.
He poured another vile-tasting bottle of something into her feeding tube, then plugged his microphone into the server. "Good evening, slave," he chirped. "I hope you've had a productive day. The new server is nearly configured. Another day ought to finish the job. I do have something that requires your attention though. Hang on a minute."
He fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door to the rack. It swung open and Tiffany was treated to fresh cool air for the first time in a day. Still unable to hear through her crushingly tight hood, Bill picked up the microphone again.
"How would you like me to remove the spikes beneath your ass, slave?" he asked. Tiffany was unable to speak through her gag. She grunted and shook her head affirmatively as best as she could in her bondage.
Bill reached forward, but instead of removing the spikes he removed the glove enclosing Tiffany's right hand, then released that wrist from the handcuff.
He picked up the microphone once more. "I have found a buyer for your house," he announced. Tiffany cocked her head, she didn't think she had heard him right. "I'm afraid it's not a very good offer, but it was priced to move. All I need is your signature on the bill of sale. Do that and I will remove the spikes."
Tiffany was stunned. Sell her house? What would she do? Where would she live? Bill piped in as if he was reading her mind, "I own a small apartment that you can use while your living arrangements are sorted out."
He thrust a pen into her free hand and held up the document. Tiffany couldn't read anything the document said, but signed it anyway.
"Excellent," Bill exclaimed. He pulled out an electric drill and after removing a few bolts he slid the spike plate free of the bench. He then regloved and handcuffed Tiffany's hand, then locked up the server rack once more. He looked at the signature, then said, "I forgot to mention that I have filed your name change papers. You should have signed it with your legal name, Tiffany Minx." He laughed and gathered up his papers and equipment and walked towards the door. Tiffany squealed at this latest humiliation. He knew that he didn't actually need Tiffany's signature to close the sale since he already had power of attorney, but he reveled in the fact that she willingly signed the document to try to lessen her punishment.
When Bill left Tiffany immediately lowered her ass to the now spike-free plate. For the first time in over a day she could rest. The bruises on her ass still ached, but at last she could take the weight off her legs and crushed toes. Despite the anxiety of now being homeless and renamed she soon fell asleep.
She awoke early the next morning, not exactly rested but feeling slightly better. Her legs were stiff and achy as she stretched as best she could within her bonds.
At seven AM one of Bill's underlings arrived and approached the server to begin work. At least I can sit down while I endure today's torture, Tiffany thought unhappily. Then the man logged in. Almost immediately Tiffany felt the bench beneath her grow hot, really hot. She thought perhaps it was her imagination as she endured the hundreds of pinpricks and shocks to her tits while the man typed, but soon the bench became too hot to sit upon. Tiffany was forced to haul herself up onto her stiff and protesting legs. Her toes screamed in protest as they were once again crushed into the tight ballet slippers.
She endured an hour of torture at the hands of her unwitting tormentor. When he had finally finished and left, Tiffany tried to sit on the bench once more. She didn't even need to make skin contact to know that it was still unbearably hot. The heat permeated the rack and sweat dripped from her exposed skin.
Tiffany remained on her feet for the rest of the morning. Just before lunchtime Bill entered. He poured another foul bottle of something into her tube. Tiffany didn't want to know what was in it. He plugged in the microphone. "Hello, slave. I hope you're more comfortable today. Did I fail to mention last night that today we are stress testing the server, and that the heatsink is connected directly to your bench? I'm afraid it's going to be rather toasty in there until the tests finish. I've decided that you may come out tonight. The company holiday party is tomorrow and I figure you'll want a day to rest before attending. See you later." He left.
Tiffany was left sweltering for hours. Her legs quivered, but she couldn't lower herself for an instant without burning her bruised ass. In the middle of the afternoon another person came to pound away at the keyboard, and Tiffany's tits, for a half an hour before furrowing his brow and leaving.
Tiffany counted down the minutes until the end of the day. Just as five o'clock approached Steven arrived and furiously typed away for another hour. Tiffany screamed and howled and trembled. Burning hot bench or no, she was on the verge of collapse. Finally Steven left and Bill arrived soon after pushing a wooden crate.
He opened up the rack and detached Tiffany's ballet slippers from the floor. Tiffany tumbled out. Bill scooped her up and tossed her in the crate. He sealed it shut and wheeled it out of the building. Tiffany felt herself loaded into a vehicle and driven away. Despite remaining in her tight bondage she soon fell asleep on the floor of the crate.
She awoke a while later atop a thin mattress on the floor of a windowless studio apartment. Somehow she had slept through the removal of her bonds. She got up, stiff and sore all over. Her tits were bruised and scabbed from the assault of the punishment bra. Her pussy ached from the overstimulation of the vibrator. The large metal buttplug remained in her ass. She tried to climb to her feet but they were so sore that it was faster to explore the apartment on hands and knees.
She went to the kitchen and prepared herself a meal. She was famished. After she ate she found the bathroom and took a shower. The only clothing in the apartment was a rather elegant green evening dress that was obviously intended for the party later, so she remained nude. She tested the door to the apartment only to find that it was locked from the outside. She was trapped. Expecting no less, she spent the day recovering from her ordeal.
As the evening approached Tiffany heard the scratch of a key in the lock. She was expecting Bill, but was surprised when a beautiful young woman entered.
"Bill sent me to get you ready for the party," she explained. Tiffany wasn't sure what that meant, but was relieved when the woman set down the box she was carrying and began pulling out hair and makeup supplies. Tiffany sat naked in a chair as the woman got to work cutting and coloring her hair, then professionally applying makeup. When she finished she held up a mirror for Tiffany to see. She gasped at what she saw. Her hair had been colored bright pink and styled into a bob. The makeup covered her puffy sleep-deprived face, making her look ten years younger. The woman guided Tiffany's feet into a pair of gorgeous high end stiletto pumps. Her feet still ached horribly from two days standing on ballet slippers, but she figured she could soldier through. Finally the woman handed Tiffany the beautiful green dress, which Tiffany sadly noted now clashed horribly with her pink hair. Aside from the large buttplug that remained in her ass she looked and felt rather good.
The dress was low cut and held up only by a thin tie, wrapped up around her shoulders. Her feet still ached and made standing difficult, but she knew she could make it through the night. She had to. Tonight was the night that Steven had promised to deliver the dirt on Bill that would set her free.
Around six thirty Bill entered the apartment. He whistled his approval at Tiffany's appearance and guided her to the front seat of his van. After a long drive they arrived at the hotel ballroom where the holiday party was already in full swing. Bill and Tiffany parted ways. Tiffany politely mingled with her co-workers while constantly scanning the crowd for Steven. "Where can he be?" she thought.
The night dragged on and Tiffany grew more and more worried. It was nearly time for the CEO's presentation and then the party would be over. As the wait staff cleared the tables and everyone began gathering near the stage Tiffany felt a tap on her shoulder. She spun around and to her great relief saw Steven. Never had she been so happy to see anyone in her life.
"I've got what you're looking for. Are you sure you want to do this?" he whispered in her ear.
Tiffany nodded assent.
"Come with me then," he said.
He led her to the front of the crowd, right in front of the CEO's podium. Just as they reached the edge of the stage the lights grew dim and the CEO took the stage. Tiffany rolled her eyes. The head of the company gave the same speech every year after showing some inspiring 'year in review' video that Tiffany's department produced. She didn't recall seeing this year's video, but she must have signed off on it some time last week when her orgasm-denied brain was in a fog.
As the video began a scent wafted past Tiffany and caught her attention. She immediately flashed back to two weeks ago, and the man who had fucked her in the ass while she waited blindfolded on her bed. Tiffany spun around to identify the man wearing that scent. She turned, and found herself face to face with Steven, who was standing uncomfortably close behind her. She paused to process this when suddenly Steven grabbed her wrist and snapped a handcuff around it. The other end of the handcuff he quickly attached to a part of the stage. Then he deftly tugged at the strand tied around Tiffany's shoulders. Her loose dress fell away. Steven kicked it out of her reach. No one in the crowd had noticed, as they were all watching the start of the video and the lights were low.
Tiffany was completely floored. What the hell was happening? Steven leaned close and whispered in her ear, "Bill is a very good friend of mine. We've been playing you from the beginning, slave. Enjoy the show."
He sidled away and blended into the crowd. Tiffany panicked. She tried reaching her dress but it was no use. She was locked to the stage in a room full of people, naked. A collective gasp from the crowd drew her attention to the video playing on the twenty foot screen behind the CEO. On the display, in full high-definition video was Tiffany, naked and masturbating on her bed. It was the video of the first night Bill came to her house! The red-faced CEO was dumbfounded. He sputtered and panicked. He demanded that the video be turned off, but it kept playing. As Tiffany orgasmed on the video it cut to the next week where a bound Tiffany begged a blurred out stranger to fuck her. Her pleas filled the hall at full volume.
Tiffany looked away. She couldn't watch any more. The house lights came back up. The faces on the crowd were a mix of amusement and horror. Someone finally got the video to stop just as a blurred out man that she now knew was Steven Sanders fucked her in the ass. More gasps filled the room as everyone noticed the naked woman in the crowd.
The CEO regained his composure. "Everyone out! Party is over!" he roared. The crowd quickly gathered their things and left. A few folks swung past to get a good look at Tiffany before they left. The head of HR passed by as the crowd thinned.
"You are, of course, fired. Don't return to the office. We will have your things shipped to you," she sneered.
After a few more minutes Bill came walking up like a hero, carrying a screwdriver and a long coat. He draped the coat over Tiffany like a gentleman and began unscrewing the fixture that she was handcuffed to. He carefully picked her up and escorted her out of the building. Once they were out of sight of anyone else he tightened his grip and led her to his van. He swung open the rear doors and shoved her in. Then slammed the doors shut and drove off.
At least this is the most comfortable ride I've ever had in the back of this van, she thought unhappily. But as the ride went on it sunk in just how fucked she was. She had no hope left. No job. No friends. No house. Her family hated her. And she now had no chance of getting out from under Bill.
When the van stopped Bill entered the back and pulled a rough canvas bag over her head. He fixed the handcuffs so that her hands were held behind her back. Then he pulled her out and led her up some stairs and through a door.
She remained still while Bill gathered several items. She was terrified. Up until now she had always had hope, but now there was none left. She stood there in nothing but her strappy high heels, buttplug, and coat, trembling. Bill removed all but the canvas bag on her head.
"Bill, I'm-," she began.
"Quiet, slave!" Bill roared so loud that the walls rattled.
He pulled her arms behind her then threaded them into a tight leather armbinder. He looped the straps up over her shoulders and pulled until her elbows touched. Next he lifted a corset around her waist and pulled that unbearably tight. Tiffany feared that she was destined to return to the server rack. Instead she saw what was in store for her when Bill removed the canvas bag.
She was back in the studio apartment that she had spent the day in. However most of the furniture had been removed. The small mattress still lay in the corner, but in the middle of the room was what looked like a gymnastics balance beam. It was a long square post about six feet long and held a few feet off the floor by several sturdy legs. Spaced along the top of the beam was a series of five rigid metal dildos, each larger than the last. The first was a fairly normal sized dildo that was six inches long and an inch wide. The others were larger up until the final one which looked more like an artillery shell than a dildo. It was nine inches long and at least four inches wide.
Tiffany opened her mouth to complain, but was interrupted by a large ring gag shoved in behind her teeth. Bill guided her to the end of the beam with the smallest dildo. On the wall she faced was a large TV. Bill picked up a remote and turned it on. Playing on the screen was the, now too familiar, video of Tiffany pleasuring herself on her bed.
"Do you think this is a game? You just can't stop making things worse, for yourself" he began. "Well now I've got a game for you. I have compiled a video of some of your greatest moments with me. I will be sending it out to your family, your former friends, your former co-workers, and really just about everyone you know. You may prevent this by completing a small challenge. You simply need to activate the switch at the bottom of the largest dildo. Just touch those pretty little pussy rings down on the metal contacts and the message will not go out. You will have thirty minutes. Since I doubt that you can get that monster in your hole on such short notice I have given you some help. The smaller dildos have the same switch, each one that you activate will give you an extra fifteen minutes and perhaps prepare you for the monster cock."
He hit another button on the remote and a timer next to the TV began counting down from thirty minutes. Then he left the room.
Tiffany stepped up to the first dildo. Her corset and armbinder prevented her from leaning over far enough to lick the dildo, so instead she tipped herself forward over it and dribbled saliva through her gag onto it. Then she shambled forward on her heels, lifted her leg up over the dildo and guided it into her pussy. Without much trouble Tiffany was able to slide down the dildo and activate the switch. She looked up contentedly to see that fifteen minutes had been added to the countdown.
She stepped up to slobber on the next dildo, which was a little longer and a little wider. By now the video had cut to the scene of Tiffany bound on her bed, begging to be fucked by a stranger. She lifted her leg over the dildo. This one proved a little more challenging. Tiffany needed to slide herself up and down the shaft several times, each thrust bringing her closer to her goal. She activated the switch as she watched herself on video begging strangers to fuck her mouth in the fetish club. The video was framed to conceal the fact that she was bound and there against her will.
She continued on to the next dildo as she watched strangers assfuck her while she was bound on her bed. She groaned as the next dildo stretched and pulled at her pussy. She struggled to get herself down to the switch. She grunted as she forced herself up and down over and over again finally bracing herself and dropping all her weight onto the stiff cock. The switch activated and she was rewarded with more time. She realized with dread that she had spent more time on this dildo than its activation had awarded her. The video shifted to several cutscenes of piss pouring down over her upturned face as she eagerly drank it down in the bathroom of the shady bar.
Tiffany's legs quivered as she lifted herself over the fourth dildo. She groaned as she slide herself up and down, up and down. Each thrust was agony. The tip of the dildo rammed into her cervix over and over. Each push brought her just a little bit closer to her goal. She finally had to lift her legs free of the floor and wiggle herself down the enormous dildo before she was finally able to activate the switch.
Now with a little over ten minutes left she stepped up to the monster dildo. She slathered it liberally with saliva, then mounted it. She paused when she saw what was on the video now. It was Jax. She looked terrified and in pain as a masked man led her onstage between the two posts where Tiffany had last encountered her. She was not yet wearing the tight leather hood, so it was easy to identify her. She was roughly bound to the posts, then hooded. The video then cut to Tiffany enthusiastically beating a screaming Jax with the cane. Afterward Tiffany dropped the cane and masturbated to orgasm. Next the video showed Tiffany paddling Jax's ass over and over while the girl pleaded for her to stop. The whole thing was edited so that it looked like Tiffany was the ringleader, and taking great pleasure at the abuse of her cousin.
This can't go out to my family, thought Tiffany desperately. She hauled herself up on the immense dildo, positioned the tip at the entrance to her overstretched and sore pussy and lowered herself onto it. She shrieked as the dildo tore its way in. Yet despite her determination and pain she was only a quarter of the way down. She panicked and began ramming the dildo deeper and deeper. The pain was immense. She wiggled herself halfway down and began to feel light-headed. She thought to lift herself up a little so that she could use her momentum to ram it deeper. She braced her legs on the floor and pushed. She didn't move. She was stuck. She panicked further. She wiggled her legs. She twisted her body. But she could make no further progress. She despaired as the clock on the wall ticked down to zero. A dialog box on the TV popped up indicating that the video was being uploaded and sent. Tiffany hung her head in defeat as Bill entered the room.
"Yet another failure, slave," he chided. "You just can't help but be a disappointment. I'm afraid no one will be happy to see that video. Unfortunately a copy went out to the detective investigating the disappearance of your cousin. When he goes to search your work computer he is going to find a wealth of evidence concerning your plan to abduct her. You're in a lot of trouble"
Tiffany cried. She was completely ruined. She had nothing and now the police were going to be after her.
"Fortunately for you," Bill continued, "I have someplace where you can lay low for a while. I'm certain you won't like it, but that's the point. It's a training center for undisciplined and deceitful slaves like you. I'm sure you'll fit right in. In fact, your cousin Jax has already been spending some time there the past few days. I bet you two would love to catch up. We'll just need to amend your contract a tad. No more time off. You will be a full-time slave for the remainder of your year in my service."
A shiver ran down Tiffany's spine. This was getting intense. Bill handed her the contract and a pen.
"Sign it with your real name this time," he added.
Tiffany touched the pen to the paper and took a deep breath. It's this or life in prison, she thought. She wasn't sure which was worse anymore. She signed her name: Tiffany Cumslut Minx. With a huge beaming smile he snatched the paper and pen from her hand and set it aside.
With great effort Bill was able to lift Tiffany from the enormous dildo. She screamed as he pulled her up. Her destroyed pussy remained agape after he had lifted her off. To her surprise he guided her back to the second largest dildo and began to work her down onto that. Tiffany pleaded with him through her gag to stop, but he persisted. She scrambled to her feet, attempting to resist being impaled on the huge cock. Bill responded by kicking her legs out from beneath her. He took several leather straps and lifted her ankles to her thighs and belted them in place. Next he reached beneath the beam that held the dildo and turned a knob. The dildo came free of the beam. Tiffany nearly fell over, but Bill caught her. He lifted her to the floor, the dildo still rammed deep into her aching pussy. He attached a strap to the front of her corset and ran it between her legs, then fastened the strap to the back of her corset. The dildo was now held firmly in place.
Bill briefly left the room and returned dragging a large empty chest. He flipped open the lid, then heaved the bound and terrified girl up into the chest. She hit the ground with a thud. Her eyes pleaded with him for mercy as he stood over the top of the chest.
"Let me give you some advice for your time at your new home," he said. "Scream long, and scream hard."
Tiffany begged and pleaded uselessly into her gag. Bill flipped the lid closed, thrusting the helpless, frightened girl INTO DARKNESS.