The Investigation of Lieber Investments
  • Author - lexi
  • Rating -   
  • Site Rank - 1855 of 2955
  • Story Codes - F-f, non-consensual, analplay, armbinder, bodymod, bondage, chastity, electricity, enema, extreme, games, humiliation, kidnapping, latex, predicament, slavery, spanking, suspension, torture, violent
  • Post Date - 7/5/2020

Author's Note: I was going to finish this story before submitting it, but I won't have much chance to write in the next couple weeks and if I lose momentum after that it may be a long time coming. Feel free to email me with any feedback, or leave a comment.

This story and the characters and places therein are 100% fictional. Please don't take this as an endorsement in any way of the actions of any character. This material is intended only for getting off and should be kept completely divorced from reality.

Chapter One

The songs of frogs and insects echoed through the trees as the intruder took careful steps over roots, aiming a hooded flashlight downward. She glanced at her satellite compass - still going the right direction, less than a mile out now from the fence. A stick cracked nearby and she shut the light off and froze. After several seconds during which no shape resolved out of the darkness, she continued on her way.

Twenty more minutes of picking her way through the undergrowth and she spied the fence. Fifteen feet high, chain link, with nasty razor wire coiled on top and ten feet of clear ground outside. On the inside, Pepper could see a ten foot high masonry wall several yards behind the fence. A prefab building was incorporated into the wall, no light coming from within. Security was tight, as expected.

She sat behind a tree and pulled off her heavy canvass backpack. First she took out a smaller, black backpack and put it on. She also removed her camera, hanging it around her neck, and a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she leaned back against the tree, feeling the roughness of it even through her heavy vest.

Investigative reporting was a lost art in these days of corporate monopoly. Still, though, Pepper knew that if she could get proof positive of something really shady going on here, it could do real damage to Lieber Investments. She had written a takedown before, for her friend's website, but without any real evidence it hadn't gotten much traction. So here she was to spy on the Lieber compound a few miles outside her hometown. They owned all the land around here, but only a fraction of it was developed. Suspicious businessmen had been spotted in town going to or from the compound. A few local disappearances were also rumored to be connected to this place, including a girl Pepper had known in high school. On top of all that, no one was really sure what purpose the compound was even meant for. Certainly if any of the rumors were true, Pepper considered it her civic duty to do something about it.

She crept up to the fence and snipped several of the links with the bolt cutters. She slipped through and dashed across to the stone wall across from her, ducking into its shadow. She paused for a minute to make sure she hadn't been spotted. Then she found a foothold on the wall, and peeked over it.

This was the south side of the compound, opposite the main gatehouse. Directly over the wall, she spied an olympic-size swimming pool. Nothing going on here at two in the morning. There were lawns surrounding the pool deck, with a watchtower situated to one side. She saw a dim light from the windows at the top. A few hundred yards across the lawn was a cluster of outbuildings, and she could see the peaked roofs of the mansion behind them. Not the best entry point, she decided, and crept around the side of the wall away from the watchtower.

The next place she checked over the wall was more ideal. She tried pulling herself up, but didn't have the arm strength. So she backed away, got a running start, and scrambled over.

There was a long, low Quonset hut just a few yards away from the wall. She hurried over to crouch in its shadow, then peered through the window. She couldn't make much out in the darkness, but it was a small room with one door, a few cupboards standing against one wall as well as a rack of tools of some sort. It looked fairly innocuous, but she took a couple pictures anyway, using her body to shield the camera's flash from any onlookers.

She moved around the prefab building, peering in a couple other windows to find similar rooms. On the other side, between the prefab and the lawn before the mansion, was a sprawling vegetable garden. On the left was an identical prefab; on the right, some distance away, was another watchtower. She couldn't make out much of the garden in the darkness, but the trees, trellises, and raised beds looked like good cover from the tower. Crouching low, she ran into the garden.

Picking her way through the rows, she noticed a wide variety of fruits and vegetables were planted here. It was a functional, efficient design, with none of the aesthetic flourishes one might find in a typical home garden. Then again, it made sense that a garden this large would be geared toward production. Did they sell the produce? How many people were living on this compound?

The main house was a three story Tudor manor. The lower floor was dark brick; the upper floors were white and lined with dark timber with a slight overhang; the roofs were steep and the chimneys were tall. It was an imposing building, and the lawn between it and the garden was wide enough that it would be a challenge to cross unnoticed. But some lights were on in the mansion, and she noticed figures in the windows now and then. She hadn't brought a telephoto lens for nothing. She put her pack down and swapped the lens out.

Lying on the ground between two beds of cabbage, she frowned at the sight of the magnified figures. Was there some kind of fetish party going on here? Two of the women walking around were in full-on maid uniforms, and one might have been wearing a latex bodysuit. Pepper didn't write for a tabloid, though, so this wasn't exactly the smoking gun she was looking for. Of course, she didn't expect to stumble upon any corrupt business dealings going on at three in the morning. Fortunately, she had come equipped with four listening bugs. If she could cross the lawn and plant them on the walls of the mansion, maybe she would uncover something big.

After several more minutes of observation, she changed the lens back out, zipped up her bag, and dashed forward in a crawl. It was pretty dark out here, and the view from many of the windows was obscured by trees planted close to the house, but it was still a risky move. She could only hope it would prove to be worth it.

She passed through a small, ornamental garden and reached the mansion. She crawled in between its outer wall and a low hedge, panting for breath. Once she had calmed her breathing, she stood and took a quick peek through the nearest window. It was a lounge, outfitted with simple but elegant couches and low tables. Could be the perfect spot for a bug, she thought, fixing one just below the windowsill.

She took her time moving from hedge to tree to shrub, peering through windows on the way. She took a quick snapshot of most of the rooms she spied on - flash off. A hallway with tall windows. A huge kitchen.

She wondered again just how many people were living here. The bugs might give her more of an idea. She planted one at the next window, a dining room with a huge, long table. A maid appeared within a second later, stepping through the darkened room, and Pepper ducked out of sight. This was definitely a fetish thing. Even with the brief glimpse in the dark, she could see the maid was wearing a white corset that barely even covered her nipples, a ridiculously short skirt, and a collar. She raised her camera over the windowsill and blindly took a photo, hoping to get a better look at the girl. When she checked the camera, she jumped - the girl was looking right into the camera! Had she been spotted?

Pepper hurried along the side of the house to a better hiding place, and checked the photo again. On closer inspection, she wasn't sure the maid had seen her at all. She didn't look surprised. Probably she was just staring idly out the window. Still, Pepper didn't move. Better safe than sorry. Also... she checked one more time. The maid actually looked familiar somehow.

No, not just somehow. It was her high school classmate! The girl had disappeared without a trace two years ago, only vague rumors connecting her and similar cases to Lieber Investments. This was huge! The break she'd been looking for!

Abruptly, lights flashed on all around the perimeter of the lawn. Fuck, she'd been spotted after all! There was no way to cross back to the fence unnoticed now. So she crawled deeper into the topiary she was hiding behind, and pulled out the collapsible baton she'd brought with her for self-defense. She took the memory card out of her camera and pocketed it securely, then left her camera and pack behind. She'd move faster unencumbered.

Through the foliage, she could see groups of security guards combing the perimeter of the mansion. Two passed by her hiding place without a second glance, but the third group to come by was searching more meticulously, shining a flashlight into each possible hiding place. She tensed for action as they moved closer.

Before they arrived at the bush she was hidden in, Pepper jumped out with explosive force, nearly bowling one of the guards over and making a rush across the lawn. They were fast, though. Shouts rang out from behind her. Another group closed in on her flank, and she could see a group closer to the fence start to cut her off as well. She realized her only chance would be to hide the memory card and talk her way out. In the interest of appearing to cooperate, she dropped to her knees and tossed the baton aside.

Immediately, she was surrounded by six guards shouting at her. One stepped forward and pushed her to the ground. As he snapped a pair of cuffs onto her wrists and slipped a cloth hood over her head, her only thought was that she had fully bitten off more than she could chew.

The guards had dragged Pepper down a staircase and into a basement room. At the center was a heavy chair to which she was strapped by her arms and legs. Apart from that, the cell was bare. She had been sitting alone in the darkness for long enough that she really needed to pee by the time the door creaked open.

As the lightbulb overhead flickered on, Pepper started. The woman who had just walked in was Monica Lieber herself. The CEO of Lieber Investments was dressed in an immaculate black suit, as in most of her depictions in the press. Pepper had already decided on her excuses. "Excuse me, Miss Lieber... I'm really sorry for snooping around."

"Are you, now." Lieber's face betrayed nothing.

"You see, I'm a reporter for the Daily Sun... There are rumors of some kind of kink parties going on here, maybe with, you know, diplomats involved. I'm sorry to have invaded your privacy like this."

"Oh? You're no longer with the Watchdog Project then, Pepper Bush?"

"I, uh... you know who I am?"

"Please. Your attack on my company did not go unnoticed, despite its speculative and inaccurate nature. You're on our watchlist."

"You have your own watchlist?"

Lieber stepped closer and smiled. "Our agents might have picked you up sooner or later. A troublemaker like you, especially such a pretty one, is obviously to be watched."

Pepper flinched. "Picked me up?"

"You ask a lot of questions. So you still don't know what's going on here? I suppose you'll find out," Lieber shrugged. She opened the door and spoke to someone outside. "Get her processed, will you?"

A uniformed security guard holding a taser stepped into the cell, along with a girl in a different sort of uniform. She was dressed in a cream-colored latex suit covering everything but her nose and mouth, with a rubber corset over it, high-heeled booties, and a ring gag. Her wrists were linked with a mere foot of chain.

With the guard standing by, and Lieber watching from the corner, the girl undid the straps holding Pepper to the chair. "Get her stripped," the guard commanded. She started to pull Pepper's vest off her shoulders, at which point Pepper shoved her aside. The guard promptly stepped forward and jabbed the taser into her side.

With no further resistance from Pepper, the girl pulled all her clothes off piece by piece. "You can leave the panties," Lieber declared, and Pepper was pulled to her feet dressed in nothing but. She could feel her entire body blushing at being exposed. She knew her breasts hadn't really developed, and that her dick created a visible bulge in her panties. Which, although they were a practical cut, were an embarrassing shade of bright purple.

The guard handed the girl a black collar identical to the one she was wearing. She reached up to Pepper's neck and fastened it on. It was a simple band made of a strong material, and locked on such that it couldn't be removed except with a key or a hacksaw. She added a pair of wrist cuffs, which then fastened onto the collar, ensuring that Pepper couldn't bring her hands more than a couple inches below her neck. Then the two of them marched Pepper into the hallway.

Lieber stepped out too. "I like that color on you, Pepper," she called after her, and then headed in the opposite direction.

They took Pepper a short distance to another door. She recoiled at the stench of piss as it swung open. There was no light source in the cell, but the light from the hallway illuminated two other girls sitting against the wall. They took Pepper inside, sat her on the cement floor, and fastened a short chain from her collar to an anchor in the wall. Then they left, and closed the door, leaving the three girls in total darkness.

After a minute of silence, one of them spoke, her voice colored by a slight German accent. "Hey, new girl. What's your name?"

"It's Pepper," she replied, her voice hollow.

"I'm Franz. This is Diane. We haven't been here long."

Another minute of silence, then Pepper voiced a question. "What are they going to do to us?"

Diane spoke. "We don't really know, but, we think... they might sell us."

"Sell us? You mean like, slavery?"

"Yeah, maybe."

Pepper thought back to the maid she'd seen, the girl who had disappeared without a trace from the outside world. It made sense. "What were you two doing here?"

"What do you mean?" Franz asked.

"I mean I'm an investigative reporter, that's why I was on the grounds... what were you doing when they caught you?"

A brief silence, and Franz replied. "We weren't on the grounds at all. They bought me from someone else, and they grabbed Diane practically off the street." Right, Lieber had mentioned they "picked up" people on their watchlist.

"Uh, kind of personal question..." Diane trailed off. "But are you also a trans girl?"

"What, are you both too?"


"I am." Pepper didn't speak for a moment. "Are you... local? Surprised I haven't run into you." It was a small enough town that trans people tended to know each other.

"We both grew up about an hour away," Diane said. "I've lived here for like a year, Franz hasn't but they brought her here."

"Oh." The awkwardness of the situation was exponentially increased as Pepper realized she now really, really needed to pee. "Uh... toilet?"

"Nope," Franz replied grimly.

Of course. Pepper gave up and released her bladder. Warmth in the panties she now wished had been removed with the rest of her clothes, and the mortifying sound of liquid trickling into the drain in the center of the cell.

They didn't talk much after that, but drifted into a disturbed slumber.

Chapter Two

The line of young women in leotards and tights was reflected in the paneled mirrors on the wall of the dance studio as they finished their cool-down exercises. Diane sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, getting her breathing under control for a couple minutes. The girls streamed out of the studio and into the locker room. Diane didn't follow them. She grabbed her coat from its hook and hurried out the door. She had to get to work.

The sun had just set as she lit a cigarette, walking across the empty strip mall to her car. Inside were the sandwich she would eat for dinner and the clothes she would change into on the way to her late shift at the diner. Her day, or rather her night, was all downhill from here. Ballet was the only thing she had going for her right now, pretty much her entire purpose for living.

She sat down in the driver's seat, unwrapped the sandwich she took from the other seat, and started the car. She rolled down the windows and had practically wolfed down her meal by the time she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway.

Cars crept by on her left as she headed into town. She would go to work for a long, dull shift, and then she would return to her shitty apartment and collapse into bed, and then she would wake up with a stunned feeling in the late afternoon and go to dance class. Two hours, five days a week when she got to do what she really wanted, to be totally aware of and in control of her body. She needed to make some local friends, she thought for the thousandth time that day.

She pulled in to her usual parking spot, down the block from the diner, in the lot of an abandoned grocery store. The owner didn't like his employees taking up customer parking. She checked the clock: still eight minutes until she needed to head in and change into uniform. She lit another cigarette and took a deep drag off it, leaning against the car's hood.

A woman in a sundress was just passing by, taking a shortcut through the abandoned lot. "Hey," she nodded at Diane, "do you have smokes?"

Diane nodded and reached into her pocket. The stranger stepped closer and jabbed a taser into her stomach. Diane dropped to the asphalt.

After an indeterminate time in the dark - it could have been five hours, or thirty-five - the cell door creaked open and light fell on the three new slaves. A woman appeared in the doorway. She had a voluptuous figure and wavy brown hair that fell well past her shoulders. She was dressed all in white. Pumps with a three inch heel; silk thigh-high stockings with garters connected to a rubber corset that stretched from just above her crotch to just under her ample bosoms; silky shorts or bloomers, a see-through mesh sports bra; and a collar just like the one they'd put on Pepper. She had a friendly-looking face, but that didn't mean much to the captives.

"Wake up girls... time to get you ready for your new lives." She stepped aside, and two slaves came into the cell. They were dressed identically to the girl who had undressed Pepper last night, in cream-colored full-body latex suits. They unclipped the chains holding Pepper, Diane, and Franz's collars to the walls, and helped them stand. Then the three veteran slaves led the three new ones out into the hall by the collar.

They went down a flight of stairs before they arrived at yet another cement room, an array of shelves and cabinets against one wall. How deep did the tunnels here go? Pepper and Franz's collars were linked to the wall again, in standing positions, while Diane was brought to the center of the room. Cuffs in the ceiling and a large drainage grate in the floor were closed onto her ankles and wrists, leaving her in a spread-eagle position. Over her head was a large showerhead.

This was Pepper's first real look at her cellmates. Franz was almost six feet tall, with a full figure and respectably hefty breasts. She had long, blonde hair and a cute face. Her dick was pretty big, Pepper thought, not that she had actually seen that many real live dicks. Diane was closer to five eight, and she'd clearly been on hormone treatments for at least a little while. She had maybe B cup breasts and budding hips, with a dick on the smaller side. Her hair was shoulder length and light brown. She looked scared as she was strung up in such a vulnerable position.

Pepper herself was five foot six with red hair in a bob cut. She was slender, without any real breast or hip development. She was still clad in her gross purple panties, the only one of the three wearing anything at all.

The busty woman in white stood before Diane, looking her over carefully. "Hello, new slaves," she said, stepping back. "My name is Birdie, and I'm one of Mistress Vera's assistants. She's going to be your new trainer. So these two toilet slaves and I," she gestured to the girls in cream-colored latex, "are going to be getting you ready for that today."

Diane started to cry as the toilet slaves moved in on her. One started brushing out her hair; the other stuck a lubricated enema nozzle up Diane's asshole. It provoked a surprised whine, and she started to sob at the violation. The slave paid her no heed as she pumped water in.

Soon the enema was complete. Diane noisily evacuated her bowels, crying and trembling with shame. The shower was turned on briefly, rinsing her off. Then one of the toilet slaves gathered her hair and tucked it into a bathing cap. She tore off pieces of masking tape and covered up Diane's eyebrows, then her eyes. Diane tried to resist being blinded, to no avail. The other one pulled a large bottle of some kind of foul-smelling grey lotion off the shelf. Then they began a careful application to every inch and every crevice of Diane's body. They stepped back and waited in silence for a few minutes.

Birdie was studying Diane's body again. "You're a real cutie, new slave. I think we're going to spend some quality time together soon. What's your name again?" She didn't wait before answering her own question. "Diane. Are you a virgin, Diane?"

Diane made an effort to compose herself. "Not really," she stammered. She looked like she was going to say more, but then she started to pant and writhe in her chains.

"Hurts like a bitch, doesn't it?" Birdie chirped. "Way more convenient than shaving you every few days though. This is a once-a-month thing, so at least you don't have to look forward to it for a while."

They left Diane straining at her chains for several minutes before turning the shower back on and removed the tape and cap. This time they left it on longer. The water was cold. They shampooed and conditioned her hair and scrubbed her every pore with soap. Then they turned the water off and rubbed another lotion into her skin. "This one won't hurt," Birdie assured her. "Just makes your skin soft." Pepper noticed that after all this handling and caressing, Diane's cock was rock-hard.

Once they were finished with Diane, she was chained to the wall in the manner of the others and it was Pepper's turn. They ratcheted out the chains in the ceiling such that she could just stand on the balls of her feet, the metal grating hard against her skin. Before cuffing her ankles, they pulled off her panties.

She gritted her teeth as a toilet slave touched her ass, spreading her cheeks, and inserted the cold, hard nozzle. She grunted with discomfort as she felt her bowels filling with warm water. The unpleasant sensation was accompanied by pain as she was filled to her limit. Then they pulled the nozzle out and stepped back as she sprayed liquid shit down her legs. She let out a short sob in abject humiliation. She could feel the pitying eyes of Franz and Diane on her, and the taunting gaze of Birdie.

They rinsed her off, leaving her shivering from the cold water, and prepared her for the hair removal cream. She glowered as her eyes were covered with tape. "So, Diane" Birdie said after they slathered the foul-smelling goo all over Pepper's body, "what did you do for a living, in your old life?"

Diane was not in the mood for pleasantries, and didn't answer. Pepper didn't see what Birdie did, but she heard a whimper from Diane before she answered, "I... was a waitress. And I do ballet."

"Oh, you're a dancer," Birdie crooned. "You sure look it. What about you, Franz?"

"I'm a grad student," came the curt reply. "Microbiology."

"Really? Because I read something in your file about, like, a biker gang." No response. "Similar social circles, I guess."

Franz didn't say anything as Pepper started to feel the cream burn. They'd gotten it in her nostrils, ears, and even her ass crack. Fuck, it was like taking a bath in chili oil! She writhed in pain, moaning pathetically, until what felt like half an hour later the shower was turned back on.

The frigid water was more than welcome on her tortured skin. As the toilet slaves started to wash her off, her skin felt slippery as well as completely bare. She panted as they scrubbed her skin and combed out her hair. When they shut off the water and they started rubbing lotion into her skin with their soft, rubbery hands, she felt for herself the reason for the erection she'd noticed on Diane.

They removed the manacles and chained her to the wall with the others. Then it was Franz's turn to get cleaned. Birdie continued her attempts at inane small talk. "So you were some kind of detective, Pepper? I heard the commotion last night." At least now Pepper knew she hadn't been in the holding cell more than a day.

"I'm a journalist," she said flatly. "Why, what did you used to do?"

Birdie gave her an odd expression. "Interesting question. It was something in marketing. Fuck if I can remember any specifics. I so prefer this job... I shouldn't really be talking to you about this, though. I know it can all be pretty overwhelming, your first time. But really, it does get easier."

Pepper didn't want to think about being here long enough to get used to this abuse. She glanced at Diane, who was looking as overwhelmed as she was, leaning against the cold cement wall. Both of them looked away rather than watch Franz shit herself.

The note was pinned under the windshield of Franz's battered pickup when she descended to the parking lot below the lab. She took one look at it and glanced around the lot, but whoever had left the note was gone. "Shit!" she muttered.

She got in her truck and pulled out of the parking lot, mind racing. Compartmentalization was vital in the life she had chosen, and leakage like this note was a slippery slope, a pinpoint breach in a submarine's bulkhead that could give way to a flood. She was too freaked not to mix metaphors.

And it was already six fifty. She didn't know exactly when the note had been left - maybe they'd assumed she would leave work at five - but she was rushed as she arrived at home, changed into her gear, grabbed a granola bar, and peeled out of the garage on her motorcycle.

When she arrived at the old mining road, Mara Wexler was waiting with three of her gang members. "You're late, Lang."

"Yeah, well, I have a life. As you apparently know," Franz seethed, waving the note. "Seriously, what the hell, Wexler?"

Her rival smirked. "Hey, you can't keep a secret like me. Are we doing this?"

"Obviously I'm ready to race, but what's the point of all this?"

"I think I communicated the stakes pretty clearly. I want you off the road, and you want to keep living your stupid little double life. So we'll race for it."

"You really hate me enough to, what, follow me home? Search out my car at work?"

"It's not about my personal feelings. I have friends who want you out of the way here, Lang."

Franz huffed. "Well, if it's just business. You swear you and your friends will keep your mouths shut when I win this thing?"

"Word of honor, if you'll retire from racing in this town when I win it," Wexler grinned, offering her hand.

Franz shook on it, and they got on their bikes in starting positions. One of Wexler's cronies waved them off, and they ripped down the mountain.

The race was close, the lead changing hands several times, but Franz came in ahead by a good five yards. She stepped down from her bike and removed her helmet. "Pleasure doing business with you," she gloated.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you too, really," Wexler said with a sad smile. "I'm sorry it had to be this way, but like I said, I have friends who want you out of the way here."

Five of Wexler's gang-mates stepped out of the treeline. Franz put up a fight, but they quickly had her overpowered and trussed up in the back of their van. As they closed the door, she heard one of them tell Wexler that it would be no problem getting rid of her. They had a regular buyer and could have her disappeared in a matter of days, with a hefty cash bonus for their trouble.

The three new slaves had been brought to a new basement room. The central feature of this one was a piece of furniture that looked like a cross between a dentist's chair and a gynecologist's, replete with leather straps.

This time around, Pepper was the first one Birdie led over to the chair. She didn't like the look of it, and struggled, but between Birdie and the two toilet slaves they had her strapped up and immobile in just a minute, her head back and her legs spread. They put a large, rubber bit between her teeth and strapped that in too. Her apprehension was immediately justified when one of the slaves brought over a tattoo gun. She bit down hard as a crescent shaped seal was marked just by her left shoulder, under the clavicle. She couldn't even see any of the details because of the position she was strapped down in. She would find out later that it was a short alphanumeric code, something similar to a bar code, and a logo - the letters "ML" embellished with chains - all within a crescent-shaped sliver about three inches from point to point.

They bandaged the new tattoo and brought out a piercing gun, eliciting a groan from Pepper. Birdie put her hand on Pepper's head and stroked her hair. "It'll be all right, darling. Over in no time." Pepper quivered in rage and fear as the slaves stroked her right nipple. They soaked a piece of cotton in rubbing alcohol and swabbed her nipple with it.

"Please don't," Pepper tried to say through her gag. The toilet slave lined up the piercing gun while the other held Pepper still. With one quick punch, accompanied by a scream, she was pierced. It didn't hurt as much as she'd expected, at least. They lined up a tiny, U-shaped piece of steel with the nipple, and then stuck a straight piece through both the nipple and the legs of the U, then sealed the ends with tiny orbs. The end result was a D-shaped steel piercing. Then they repeated the process with her other nipple.

When they grabbed her dick and started stroking it, she shrieked at them and thrashed in her bonds. Birdie crossed over to her in a flash and grabbed her roughly by the chin, wrenching her head back into the headrest. "Hey, hey. Let me tell you something you might as well get through your skull right now. When your master tells you something is going to happen to you, it's going to happen. Your only choice is how much it's going to hurt." This didn't calm Pepper down at all. She locked eyes with Birdie and let out a string of invectives. Birdie rolled her eyes and retrieved what looked like a cattle prod from the shelves, then jabbed it into Pepper's flank. She writhed in pain.

Pepper panted around the large bit in her mouth. When they swabbed her dick with disinfectant, she only panted harder. They pierced the underside of her dick twice with more D rings - once just behind the glans, and one just before the scrotum. She let out a plaintive groan, although once again it wasn't as painful as she'd feared. "Last two," Birdie chirped as they swabbed and pierced her septum and inserted a round ring.

"Last one." They unstrapped the gag from her mouth.

"Fuck! Stop doing that! Fucking let me go! You crazy assholes!" She shut up and writhed as she got another jab from the cattle prod.

"Last one. Stick out your tongue," said Birdie.

"Wh- no! Let me -" She screamed as Birdie shoved the cattle prod into her armpit.

"Stick out your tongue." Pepper did, breathing hard and crying. The toilet slaves grabbed it with a pair of pliers and held it sticking out. They pierced it quickly and inserted a tiny bar with a cap at each end, like an uppercase I. Finally, they inserted a round ring into her septum.

"All right, hard part's over. I bet that wasn't even as bad as you expected. Wimp."

The toilet slaves brought over some new device and began to do something to Pepper's dick. She felt them slip a length of thin tubing into her urethra. A catheter, she was pretty sure. It was lubricated, so it wasn't actually that bad, but when they'd finished inserting it she felt a terrible need to pee, even though she couldn't.

Birdie took note of the pained look on her charge's face. "You have to relax your muscles. Like you're peeing. It's closed off right now, though, so you won't actually pee." Pepper took the advice and actually felt a little better as the slaves strapped her dick into some kind of array of rubber and chains.

They began releasing the straps that held her to the chair. She got a better look at the chastity device they'd attached. Her dick was sheathed in a rubber sleeve that connected somehow to the piercings in its underside. It was slightly curved downward, and between that and the catheter she could tell she wouldn't be able to get hard. Only the very tip of her glans poked out from the end, and there was a slightly rounded steel bar curving just in front of it, holding the end of the catheter in place.

The toilet slaves helped her to her feet, and she stood naked and trembling with rage. For fear of the cattle prod, she cooperated as they fitted her with a rose-colored rubber corset. She could feel rigid metal supports inside as they cinched it tight around her waist. It was the same cut as all the other slaves were wearing, reaching from just under her breasts (such as they were) to just above her ass.

Finally, they helped her step into a pair of high-heeled booties in the same rose color. They had three-inch heels and a rubbery texture, and locked onto her ankles. Then they led her over to the wall, chained her next to Franz, and led a sniveling Diane to the chair.

They attired Diane and Franz in the same fashion. Tattoo, six piercings, chastity device, corset and heels. After the display Pepper had given them, they were a model of obedience.

Birdie explained that rose colored attire signified they were new slaves, in the first stage of their training. Her own white clothes were reserved for the assistants of Mistresses, who typically wore black. And of course, toilet slaves were dressed in a light brown cream color.

The three newly-uniformed slaves were led out of the room. Pepper hoped they'd be going above ground, but they had no such luck.

Their new cell was equipped with a flatscreen TV, which Pepper thought was slightly bizarre. There were also three metal posts bolted to the floor in front of it, with a protrusion near the middle. The toilet slaves were all business as they secured their charges on the poles. They were left standing spread-eagle: their wrists chained from the ceiling, hanging at the level of their heads; the ankle cuffs incorporated into their booties chained to the floor; their collars attached directly to a vertical part of the post such that they were looking at the TV; and they were each straddling a hefty dildo attached to the protrusion. They were left in a position where, if they stood up straight, the dildo only pushed into their ass a little bit, but to get any relief for their feet, they had to sit down, resting their full weight on it and pushing the whole thing in. At there was some padding and contouring to the beam it was mounted on, so their thighs wouldn't be hopelessly bruised if they did sit down long term. There was also a tube connected to the end of their catheters, which were then opened. Pepper felt her bladder empty, collected in a waste bottle at the back of the stand.

"I'm proud of you all," Birdie told them. "You're going to do so well in your training. Just remember what I taught you and everything will go so smoothly you won't even believe it. Sleep tight, you three. Or not, as the case may be."

The trainers left the cell and closed the door, leaving them in pitch darkness. But only briefly. The TV flickered to life. The video showed a trans girl dressed in exactly the same uniform the three of them were wearing, getting fucked hard by a big guy with a huge cock. The volume was very high, too, reverberating against the cement walls and floor. And to make the situation even less conducive to sleep, the dildos in their asses started vibrating ferociously.

Pepper was too exhausted to say anything just now. The video ended with a huge ejaculation into the girl's ass, and another hardcore porn video began. At least the vibrators weren't always on. They tended to scale in intensity according to the videos, vibrating hardest when someone climaxed. Despite everything, Pepper found herself wishing desperately that she was allowed to masturbate.

One by one, the three of them drifted into a light and frustrated sleep.

Chapter Three

After some time in the flickering glow of the television, Franz spoke, raising her voice to be heard over the echoing moans of the girls on screen. "This is fucking balls. I can't believe this nightmare."

"We need to get a message to the outside or something," said Pepper. "They have to let us out of this dungeon eventually, right? I bet they have us working in the garden at some point."

"There's a garden?" Diane wanted to know.

"Yeah, how much of the compound did you see on your way in?" asked Franz.

"Well, it was pretty dark... They have these guard towers around the perimeter, but they're spaced out. I mean, I got as far as the main house before someone inside noticed me..." Pepper remembered the girl she'd taken a photo of. That photo was lost now - they'd taken the memory card along with her clothes. "There's a lot of lawns, some prefab buildings, and yeah, a really big vegetable garden."

"Only total fuckers have a big lawn," Franz sighed. The other two agreed.

"Remember that guy in your senior year lit class?" Diane said.

"Right. Total fucker." For Pepper's benefit, Franz added, "He played golf, too. Do you think these fuckers play golf?"

"I bet they do," said Pepper. "Were you in high school together?"

"Yeah, Diane was two years behind me though."

The stilted conversation was cut off as two girls got throatfucked on screen and the vibrators rose to a fever pitch.

Some time later - it was impossible to tell how long - the screen and the vibrators shut off, and a lightbulb overhead snapped on. The door swung open, and two women walked in, followed by Birdie.

The first was a tall, lanky woman with a curtain of black hair and severe makeup. She had excellent posture, likely aided by the odd garment she was wearing. It was black rubber, something like a panty girdle combined with a corset, covering her crotch and reaching to just under her breasts. Over it, she wore a diaphanous black shirtdress, as well as a pair of thighhigh boots with four-inch heels. The end result was that she loomed over even Franz's head.

Birdie and the other girl were in white corsets, high-heeled pumps, collars, and chastity devices just like the one on Pepper. The new girl had close-cropped blonde hair and stood a couple inches taller than Birdie, with a more slender figure.

"Greetings, slaves. I'm Mistress Vera," the lead woman announced. "These are my assistants, Birdie and Seline. You will treat them with the respect due your superiors. You will follow our orders without question. You will address us as 'Mistress' if you are spoken to, or not at all if you are not. If you follow my rules, things will go easily for all of us. If you don't, you will regret it. Say 'yes, Mistress.'"

Pepper blinked at the woman's weirdly formal little speech, but joined her cellmates in a chorus of "yes, Mistress."

"Aren't you good girls," Vera mocked. "Get them fed, get them exercised, get them cleaned. I'll be back." She strode out of the cell, leaving Seline and Birdie to spoon bland-tasting mush into the three girls' mouths. It was hardly a gourmet meal, but at least there was a lot of it. Pepper was ravenous.

Soon they were taken across the hallway, into a larger room with two long rows of treadmills, like a gym. Three of them were already occupied by naked girls cuffed to the arms, trotting in place. One by one, Seline and Birdie unlocked and removed the heels and corsets from Pepper, Diane, and Franz. One by one, they too were chained to treadmills, and a preset routine began. There was an unusual padding in the tread - probably designed to make it easier on bare feet.

Because they were in the back row, Pepper could see the two other groups of girls who were brought in during the forty-five minutes they were walking and running. She watched another group of trainers bring them in and chain them up, and another group lead away the three girls who'd been here first. Pepper noted that the groups were divided between those with dicks and those without, and between the four groups in here, they were two and two.

After their exercise period, their trainers came back in, unchained them, and led them to the room next door. It had a drainage grate on either side, stretching the length of the two longer walls, with several showerheads equally spaced over each. The group that had been on the treadmills before them was already here, getting scrubbed down by their own trainers.

Pepper, Diane, and Franz were chained up, spread eagle, side by side. Seline and Birdie set to grooming them. First, Seline brushed out each of their hair while Birdie administered a large enema. Then the water was turned on and each girl received a thorough scrubbing and shampooing in turn. Their teeth were brushed, and they also had the switches opened to give their catheters a chance to drain their bladders. Once that was done, they were roughly toweled off and had their corsets and heels locked back on. Finally, each one received an injection in their buttock, which Birdie explained was estrogen and a testosterone blocker. Diane and Franz had their hair collected into tight ponytails; Pepper's bob cut was too short for that.

They were taken up a staircase to another of the monotonous concrete rooms. Once again, they were chained into a spread eagle position in the center of the room. Birdie and Seline both took positions by the door, standing at attention.

Minutes later, the door opened again, and Mistress Vera entered, holding a hard wooden paddle. She took a look around, and nodded in approval. "I'm glad to see you three have been prepared for the start of your training," she said. "The society to which you now belong has many layers. Right now, you are near the very bottom, the lowest point a slave can get. Believe me when I tell you that you don't want to be at the bottom. Shit -" she stood over Pepper and stared her in the eyes, "flows downhill."

She stepped around and swatted Pepper in the ass with the paddle. "You will not meet the eyes of a superior. In fact, at this point, it's safe to assume that anyone you meet is your superior." She stepped back to the girls' front. "I am here to teach you the skills necessary for life in a higher strata. You should be grateful for this. In fact, say 'thank you Mistress.'"

She stared Pepper in the face again, and Pepper stared back as she spat, "thank you, Mistress." Vera gave her a cruel smile and whipped the paddle at her breast, connecting with a thwack. Then she punched Pepper hard, in the stomach.

"You would be well advised to listen when I speak to you," Vera seethed. "One more time, showing the proper respect. 'Thank you, Mistress.'"

Pepper didn't miss the horrified looks on her cellmates' faces as she caught her breath and replied, "you're welcome."

Vera rolled her eyes. "Just what do you expect to get out of this petty rebellion?" She wheeled over a small, black cart with an electronic device sitting on top. She picked up wires with small alligator clips at the ends, and attached one to the ring on one of Pepper's nipples. Then she reconsidered, and Pepper winced as the wire was clipped directly to her nipple. She linked a wire to the other nipple, and then to the skin on top of Pepper's dick, at the very back of her clit, which had the girl gritting her teeth and hissing with the sharp pain.

When she had finished, Vera got in Pepper's face and whispered, "thank you, Mistress."

Pepper was silent, but didn't break eye contact. Without looking away, Vera hit a button on the device. Pepper screamed as a stinging electric shock shot through her most sensitive parts. It went on for several seconds, at the end of which she was hanging limp from her wrists. Her writhing had started the clips rocking like pendulums, tugging at her very sensitive skin.

Vera grabbed Pepper's face and stared at her once more. Pepper looked down, and muttered "Thank you, Mistress." She screamed with the pain of another shock.

"I told you that you should be grateful for the service I am providing to you, girl," Vera yelled. "Thank me like you mean it!" To punctuate her statement, she paddled Pepper's ass with each word, causing her to lose her footing once again.

"Thank you Mistress!" Pepper screamed.

"It's as easy as that. This doesn't have to be such an ordeal," Vera sighed. "Girls like you are more trouble than they're worth, if you ask me. But then, we all have our mistresses." She took her place in front of the three girls. "Today, we are going to do obedience training. It's a very simple exercise. When I give you an order, you follow it, promptly, respectfully, to the best of your ability. If you are able to follow these simple instructions, your day will proceed smoothly. If not - well, I've given you an example. Do you understand? Say 'yes, Mistress.'"

"Yes, Mistress," the three of them said quickly.

"Seline, Birdie. I don't need you for the time being. You are free to leave, but don't go too far. I'll let you know when I want you back here."

"Yes, Mistress." The two slaves in white left the room.

"Let's begin with some affirmations. Say, 'I am a slave.'"

Diane and Pepper immediately repeated, "I am a slave." Franz did too, but she was a second too slow, and Vera swatted her paddle across Franz's breasts.

"Repeat it three more times."

A chorus: "I am a slave. I am a slave. I am a slave."

"Say, "I am a sissy faggot."

This went on for some time, the girls parroting a string of degrading affirmations, slurs, exaltations of their mistress, and rules for conduct. I will not make eye contact with my superiors. I will walk like a lady. I will speak respectfully. I will address my mistress as "Mistress." The occasional slip-up from Franz or Diane was corrected with a thwack of the paddle across their breasts or asses. Pepper, on the other hand, was subjected to an electric shock whenever Vera felt she was being at all disrespectful or insincere. "Say it like you mean it," Vera kept telling her.

Sooner or later Mistress Vera left the room, and returned a minute later with Seline and Birdie. They helped Vera uncuff their wrists from the ceiling, and then fitted each one with a white latex armbinder, holding their arms strictly behind their backs, pushing their breasts proudly forward. The black battery pack wired up to Pepper got clipped to the top of her armbinder.

The six of them marched down the hall. Pepper took halting steps, as the swaying gait produced by the high heels caused the little alligator clips on her skin to swing back and forth. Vera pushed the button, shocking her and causing her to stumble to her knees. "Walk like a lady, slave," she said, helping Pepper to her feet.

They arrived at a long room with a vaulted ceiling and a tile floor. The tiles on one half of the room were five or six inches wide, flat, spaced closely. On the other side, they were only three inches wide, with more space between them and edges that rounded off into the spaces between. Bold numbers were painted on the walls. Some were at eye level, while others were higher up or close to the floor.

"It's time to practice walking properly," Vera announced. "Birdie will tutor Diane, and Seline will tutor Franz. I will instruct Pepper myself. When your trainer tells you a number, you will walk over to the numeral on the wall and touch it. Your trainer will correct any error in your posture or walk. These are simple instructions, and I expect you to be able to follow them. Let us begin." Birdie and Seline each brandished their own wooden paddle and shepherded their charges along.

Pepper was left to Vera's tender care. "Fourteen," Vera told her. Pepper set off across the room and immediately earned a shock. "Keep your legs closer together." Pepper winced at the tugging of the alligator clips. When she reached the 14, she had to crouch to touch it, and stand back up. The corset and heels made it difficult, but she at least managed it without another shock.

The next number, nine, took Pepper to the side of the room with the smaller tiles. Almost immediately, her heel slipped into a crack between them, and she fell sideways. Mistress Vera reached down and administered a shock, then stood her back up. "Look where you're stepping, slave." It was only a few more steps before Pepper slipped again, though she managed to stay standing this time. Vera gave her a quick shock anyway. "Better." Pepper only got one more shock before she reached the 9.

The exercise went on for an interminable length of time. Pepper's feet were throbbing by the end of it, especially since she'd barely been permitted to sit down since yesterday. At least she wasn't getting shocked as often anymore, having gotten used to walking in her restraints.

Finally, Mistress Vera stopped prompting her and addressed the room. "You may stop now. All of you, come over here and stand at attention." They all walked over and stood in front of Vera.

"I am pleased with the progress our new slaves have made," she said. "Pepper, do you feel that you have learned a lesson about obedience today?"

"Yes, Mistress," Pepper practically yelped.

"See that you have. Seline, please remove the electrodes from Pepper." Seline hurriedly unclipped the wires. Pepper gasped as blood made a painful return to the parts that had been pinched. "Your training for the day is finished. Seline, Birdie, get them back to their cell. I will see you all tomorrow." With that, Vera turned on her heel and marched out of the room.

Seline let out a brief giggle. "She's such a tightass."

Birdie looked scandalized, but she only shrugged. They led their charges out of the practice room and back to the cell, where they unlaced and removed the armbinders. Then they strapped them into place on their posts and brought out the food. Each slave was fed a good amount of the bland nutrient paste. Lastly, their handlers strapped a bit gag into their mouths. Then it was lights off, vibrators on, TV blaring porn.

The next morning was much like the first, not that Pepper was sure they were even being kept on a 24 hour day. Seline and Birdie came in, fed them, undressed them, set them up on the treadmills, got them cleaned up, and then dressed them back up.

Pepper, Franz, and Diane were then brought to another room. Maybe it was the same one they'd been taken to yesterday. Between the complete monotony in décor and the sleep deprivation, it was impossible to tell.

Their hands were chained to their collars, and they were made to kneel on the floor. Then a thin chain was linked between a shackle on the floor and the piercing at the end of their dicks, ensuring they wouldn't stand up.

"Okay," Birdie said, "so today is the start of your sex training. Mistress Vera will be here soon, with three other new slaves. They're, you know, they've got vaginas, so they tend to be allowed more pleasure than we are..." Birdie was wearing her silk knickers today, but she still unconsciously touched her chastised dick through them. "Anyway, basically, you're going to practice eating them out."

She proceeded with some anatomical advice on eating out someone with a vagina. Pepper, having some prior experience, felt free to tune it out. This was going to be so weird and awkward. Even the concept of "practicing" eating people out was weird, given that everyone's preferences differed. Sex wasn't clockwork... But it was hardly sex, given that no one involved was likely to enjoy it much. That was the point, she assumed - to objectify them, make them into dolls.

By the time Vera entered, Pepper was once again furious at the situation they were being put in. The mistress was accompanied by three girls dressed identically to Pepper herself: Heels and corset in light pink, collar, piercings, and a chastity device. They were also fitted with ring gags and several electrodes taped to their bellies. Seline and Birdie set to removing the chastity devices as Vera began to speak.

"Slaves, I am pleased to tell you that your sex training will begin today. In your new lives, you will be much happier if you are able to please your mistresses effectively. And you, slaves," she addressed the ones she'd just brought in, "will be well served by the ability to derive pleasure even from the clumsy fumbling of stupid and inexperienced sissies like these."

Birdie and Seline shackled the girls' wrists from the ceiling, right in front of the three who were kneeling.

"So," Vera continued, "today is going to take the form of a competition. Whichever pair of slaves is able to achieve the most orgasms in the next four hours will be rewarded. And whichever pair comes in last will, of course, be punished. I hope you faggots have at least some passing familiarity with the female form." So saying, Vera turned to leave. "Keep an eye on them, Seline. Birdie, come with me." The pair left the room, leaving Seline to sit cross-legged in one corner. "All right, girls, the clock has started. Better get to it."

A few minutes later, nothing had happened. Seline added, "You know, if you all tie, she's going to count it as all three teams losing. And she'll get worked up if she doesn't think you've made an effort, too." And that kicked things off.

Pepper leaned forward and used her tongue to caress her partner's lips somewhat half-heartedly. The sensors attached to their counterparts' bellies beeped every time they detected an orgasm, and Pepper noticed Franz's pair pulling ahead early. Diane and her partner, on the other hand, seemed to be struggling. Pepper herself managed to slowly up their count, owing largely to her partner's somewhat desperate participation.

Four hours was a long time to be stuck in this position. When Mistress Vera finally returned, Seline reported the totals. Franz was the most successful, with a count of ten, Diane had only achieved three, while Pepper had gotten seven, more than she'd realized.

"Very well," said Vera. "Birdie, take our guests back to Mistress Caroline. And let her know the results of our " With a "yes, Mistress," Birdie set to unchaining the three of them and leading them away. "And Seline, bring out the horse."

"Yes, Mistress." Seline left the cell briefly, then came back with a piece of furniture in tow. It looked like a long, well-sanded wooden sawhorse with a triangular cross-section. The top edge was rounded off, but it formed a forty-five degree angle. She placed a wide stool under the center of the horse.

"Diane, as the loser in our little game, it's time to take your seat of dishonor," Vera mocked as Seline unclipped the girl's chastity device from the ground. Seline led Diane over to the horse, but the girl hesitated to step up onto it. Diane's pleading and crying fell on deaf ears as Seline sighed and took hold of her nipple and genital piercings, pulling Diane up to the stool, holding her steady, and making her swing one leg over the horse. Seline then cuffed a rigid spreader bar onto each of Diane's ankles, keeping her legs from closing and her thighs from getting any grip on the sides of the horse. While she did this, Mistress Vera clipped small weights to her nipple piercings, and then attached a chain from the ceiling to Diane's tongue piercing, keeping her from leaning too far forward or backward. As a finishing touch, she lubricated a large vibrator and pushed it gently up Diane's ass. Lastly, the stool was removed from underneath.

Diane howled in torment as her body weight rested on the small space between her legs. Her arms were still linked to her collar, so she couldn't use her arms to help; she couldn't lie forward or backward on the horse because of the link to her tongue. All she could do was rock back and forth in a vain attempt not to let her body weight rest too long on one point of contact.

"Slave Diane will remain on the horse for three hours," Vera proclaimed. "Slave Franz is to be allowed three hours of uninterrupted sleep. And I will administer further posture and gait training to Slave Pepper." Damn, Pepper thought. She would've been willing to ride the horse for three hours if it meant she could have three hours of sleep afterward.

Vera took her back to the room with the tiled floor for the training session. At least today she had been reasonably cooperative, and faced spanking as a punishment for mistakes, rather than electrocution.

Afterward, Franz and Pepper were brought back to the room to watch Diane getting taken down from the horse. She was a pitiful sight: shaking, crying, and grinding back and forth against the blunt edge. When Birdie and Seline helped her down, she couldn't even stand up.

The three were taken back to their cell to rest for another day.

Chapter Four

For Pepper, Franz, and Diane, training had settled into a brutal, exhausting routine. Being woken, fed, and stripped bare; made to run in place for forty-five minutes; shower complete with enema; dressed in a slave's garb; a day of humiliating training with mistakes and noncompliance harshly punished; being fed and then left to bathe in the glare and noise of the endless porn.

The training was as painful and degrading as it was monotonous. There was a good deal of sex training, with both men and cis women; all of it was as objectifying and awkward as the first session. Diane was a complete novice, but she was desperate to please Mistress Vera and put a lot of effort into improving. Soon she began to pull ahead of Pepper's half-hearted participation.

Obedience training took up a lot of their time as well. It progressed from repeating phrases to doing simple exercises to assuming positions for sex, punishment, or the display of their bodies. Often they were made to do humiliating or disgusting things for no reason, like licking each other's feet, or drinking Mistress Vera's piss. Usually Pepper played along, avoiding the brutal punishments meted out by her mistress, but often her rage at being placed in this situation slipped out.

Once, for daring to actually raise a hand against her mistress, Pepper was dressed in a restrictive punishment hood, a sports bra with tiny, plastic needles in its tight cups, a shapewear-like panty girdle lined with the same, and five-inch heels. Her wrists were cuffed to opposite sides of the back of her collar, such that she was made to keep her arms over her head. Then she was left to stand in a narrow cupboard lined with pins for almost forty straight hours. After she emerged, trembling, with a thousand pinpricks (which were promptly and painfully sterilized with rubbing alcohol), she was totally obedient - but only for a couple days. After that, her discontent had returned, and she was once again the problem student.

One day, two weeks into their training, the three of them were split up after another sex training game. Diane had placed second, and had been sent to practice begging positions with Mistress Caroline for a few hours. As she kneeled, hands held under her chin, she overheard Birdie talking to Amy, one of Caroline's assistant trainers.

"Thirteen days is a little long for one of Mistress Vera's groups, isn't it?" Amy was saying.

"It is. One of our students has been more rebellious than most."

"With Vera in charge you'd think she'd learn faster. Too bad for the other two, I guess."

"Yeah," said Birdie, "they're definitely ready for the second stage. Honestly, I hope the last one gets a clue soon so they don't have to go through this every day. It is what it is, I guess."

"C'est la vie."

At Caroline's instruction, Diane rolled over on her back, Birdie and Amy looking on from behind.

"I swear I'm going to kill her," Pepper fumed. "She's an evil fucking bitch and I'm going to put her in the ground."

They were in their cell, on one of the uncommon nights they weren't fitted with gags, porn blaring at them from the screen.

"Uh, but Pepper?" Diane interrupted her rant. "When are you going to actually do that?"

"The very first opportunity I get."

"But, like, when do you expect that to be?"

Pepper rolled her eyes. "They can't keep us a hundred percent locked up forever. I mean, they could, but what do you think we're being trained for? They'll have to give us some more leeway at some point, if they want to, you know, make use of us."

Franz spoke up. "That's my thinking, too. I want them to trust me. Once I have that, that's my chance to get back at them."

"Right, that's what I'm saying!" Diane nodded as much as she could, bound as she was. "I get why you're always so angry at them but, well... It's maybe shortsighted to act on it right now?"

Pepper was silent. The man on screen yelled as he came, and the vibrators in the girls' asses powered on harder.

"I guess I know that," she finally said. "It's just... okay, so I've dealt with some really hard situations in life, I was homeless for a while, I've been institutionalized a couple times before, but that's all ancient history now. I got through it. I can get through anything, I'm a really adaptable person." She took a deep breath. "I guess what I'm most afraid of is, like, maladaptation? Becoming something that isn't me? Or something that I would hate to be, and being okay with it... Maybe when it comes down to it, I'm just not a good enough liar." Tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked them away.

A minute passed, and Franz said, "Damn. I get what you mean, though."

"This is like, a majorly fucked up situation, though," Diane stated. "I think what you're talking about is a kind of trauma. And you don't get out of a situation like this without being traumatized. We... we might not get out at all."

"We're getting out," Pepper said.

"We are getting out," said Franz, "but like she said, it's impossible for us to leave here unchanged. So maybe... you can change in a way that helps us get out."

Pepper groaned in frustration, but she knew her cellmates were right.

"When we get out of here," Diane tried, "we can help each other change back to the right shape."

It would have to be enough, because Pepper knew she couldn't keep doing this forever. The vibrators hummed to life as a pair of women came on screen. The three cellmates slipped into as uneasy a sleep as ever. They would never learn that the conversation had been recorded and listened to, or that Diane's inspiration for speaking up had been scripted by Mistress Vera and performed by Birdie and Amy.

It was only two days after the conversation Diane had overheard that Vera decided the three of them were ready to move on. It was after a long day of sex training, two men fucking them in the ass in turn over and over. All three were mad with frustration, and begged Mistress Vera to be allowed to cum. She of course denied the request, but afterward, they were brought to a room that was empty except for five chairs and a desk.

They were left there unbound until an unfamiliar woman entered. She was broad and bulky, with a distinctive face and a shock of dark brown hair. She was wearing a dapper crimson-colored suit. She stood behind the desk. "Hello, girls," she said. "I'm here to talk to you about moving to the next stage in your training. I hear you've been doing very well in your first stage. I'm here to lay out what will be expected of you if and when we move you up.

"Firstly, you'll be agreeing to basically cooperate, to the best of your ability, with your trainers' orders. You'll also be responsible for certain things your trainers have been handling for you up until now, including feeding yourself, showering yourself, giving yourself an enema daily, dressing yourself, and so forth. You are free to say no to what we're offering, of course. However, your training will continue, and if you were to defer your advancement indefinitely... well, I wouldn't recommend it. How does that sound?"

To become complicit in her own torment, to give up on some level her identity as a human being, was repulsive to Pepper. But this was exactly what the three of them had talked about. More freedom, more opportunity. Pepper nodded along with the others' agreement.

"All right, I'll just need your signatures right here," the woman told them, placing three sheets of paper on the desk.

The contract was just one short paragraph, an acknowledgment that they understood the expectations on them and would cooperate with their training. They took turns using the pen to sign.

"Great," the woman said, "I'll get these filed, and Mistress Vera will bring you to your new cell." She marched out of the room and closed the door behind her.

Soon Vera was back with Birdie and Seline. They clipped thin leashes to the girls' septum rings and led them out. They took them up two staircases and through a long corridor with no doors along it. The end branched out in a Y, and they took the left fork.

Soon they arrived at a long, wide room. Pepper realized it must be a Quonset hut like the ones she'd seen on her way in, but probably one that had been buried underground. There was a huge central area, with a textured concrete floor. Furniture was scattered here and there, both mundane tables and chairs as well as torture equipment. One area of floor looked to be lightly padded, as might be seen in a gym. On the wall opposite the entrance were two large doors like one might find on storage lockers, as well as two regular-size doors. The two long sides were sectioned off into three spaces per side. The walls and doors were a thick glass or plastic.

As they got farther into the chamber, Pepper realized that the six sectioned-off areas were cells. Each one was equipped with three actual bunks - very spartan, but since this would be the first time she'd be sleeping lying down in two weeks, she didn't give a fuck. Only one of them seemed to be occupied right now, by three girls. They were completely nude except for their high-heeled booties, the chastity devices attached to their dicks, and their collars. One of them, a busty brunette, stood up from her bunk to get a closer look at the newcomers.

Mistress Vera touched a panel by the door of one cell, the second on the left. The door unlocked with a click, and she opened it, waving her charges through. They filed in, and looked back at Vera.

"Welcome to your new accommodations. Birdie, Seline, please remove their leashes and corsets." As this was going on, Vera continued. "It's early afternoon, so you have some time to catch up on your sleep before we start your training tomorrow. You will receive your dinner in the receptacle over here." She pointed out something that looked like a frozen yogurt machine set in the wall, with a stack of three bowls set within. "Soon after that, the lights will dim. They will come back on in the morning, when the alarm sounds. At that point, your breakfast will be in the receptacle, and you will have five minutes to eat it and dress in the exercise clothes provided in this receptacle." She pointed to a slot in the wall next to the food dispenser. Then she indicated one corner of the cell, where there was a shallow depression in the floor with a large drain in the center. There was a showerhead mounted on the wall above it, and a nozzle attached to a short hose. "There will be a forty minute calisthenics period. After that - or after a lengthier exercise period, if that is the first thing on your schedule that day - you will be returned here, and you will have thirty minutes to shower, give yourselves enemas, and put on your corsets or whatever other clothing is given to you. This button turns on the shower, and this one operates the enema nozzle. You will be checked for hygiene, so make sure you do a thorough job, and take the full enema. This concludes our little tour. Sleep tight, slaves." The three trainers left Diane, Franz, and Pepper to their own devices.

The three bunks were built along the walls along the sides of the room. They were padded with thin, waterproof cushions and were just wide enough to lie down in. They didn't come with sheets or blankets. The transparent wall overlooking the main area had a number of fist-sized air holes in it. Looking through it, Pepper could see the other group of girls in their own cell across the way. She could also see the two empty cells on either side of their own, through the clear walls. She could also see straight into the cells on either side of her own, through the parts of the wall above the bunks. Basically, she would be sleeping right next to someone in an identical bunk just on the other side of the plexiglass. Not as awkward as Diane's bunk, which was right next to the toilet fixture in the cell on the other side. Pepper also noticed a fisheye lens set into the ceiling at the center of their cell.

The three of them laid in their bunks and fell straight to sleep. They were woken a little later by the occupants of the other cells coming in, many of them peering at the newcomers as they went by. Pepper tried the food dispenser, and it poured out nutrient paste into her bowl, which she ate greedily. Franz and Diane got some too. Then they slept like the dead until morning.

Chapter Five

The blaring alarm woke Pepper up in a flash as the lights came on. Diane and Franz were blearily getting up as well. They hurried over and got their bowls of nutrient paste. They ate it speedily, aware they only had five minutes. Diane went to the toilet corner and peed, balancing on the high heels locked on her feet as she squatted over the grate. Pepper went too, glaring at the girl sitting on the bed in the next cell, who was watching her idly as she dressed in a leotard.

Pepper took her own exercise uniform from its slot in the wall. She grimaced as she realized it was a bright purple spandex leotard, with a high-leg thong cut. It reminded her of the purple panties she'd been wearing when she was first taken prisoner. Diane's was a bright pink color, and Franz's was a light powder blue. There was also a pair of flat-soled sandals for each of them, but they couldn't remove their booties.

They'd just gotten their uniforms on when a phalanx of women in identical outfits marched through the door and into the central room of the cell block. Each of them was wearing what looked like a latex sport bikini in a shiny, metallic blue, with a red stripe down one side. They had fingerless gloves of the same material, flat-soled shoes, their hair in ponytails, and the omnipresent collars. There were six of them; one approached each cell and opened the door. They unlocked each girl's high heels in turn and let them put on their exercise shoes, leaving the booties in pairs by the door of the cell.

All eighteen of the prisoners filed out into the main space and stood in a cluster in the padded area of floor. The women in blue stood across from them. "All right," one of them said, "time for some basic exercises. Let's start with some lunges..." Two of the other trainers demonstrated the stretch.

They led the girls through some basic stretches and yoga poses, alternating with sit-ups and other exercises. None of the girls talked to each other, and Pepper followed their lead, but she at least got a closer look at them. She realized now that every prisoner in this block was a trans girl, continuing the trend of separating them by genital configuration. She also noticed that three of the other girls were wearing one-piece swimsuits rather than leotards - same cut, different fabric.

After forty minutes of calisthenics, half the girls were returned to their cell. The other half, Pepper's group included, were led from the cell block into the hallway. Given that they were alone, largely unrestrained, and outnumbered their trainers, it was hard to resist going apeshit. But she was conscious of the security cameras prominently visible in every corridor, and she knew this would be the worst possible day to try anything.

They split up along the way, two trainers leading each group to their destination. Pepper's group was taken up a narrow staircase into the interior of a shed lined with shelves of exercise equipment. The sunlight streaming in through the crack in the door was the first natural light she had seen in weeks.

There was a woman waiting there for them. She wore a singlet in the same metallic blue as the other trainers, a red stripe up one side. Her shoes were heavy combat boots in the same color, and she had fingerless gloves as well. She was at least six feet tall, muscular, with close-cropped blonde hair. "Kneel," one of the women who'd brought them here whispered to the group, pushing down on Franz's shoulders. They obeyed.

"New slaves," said the tall woman, "I'm Mistress Hannah. I'm the slave fitness coordinator for this facility. These fine ladies are my assistants. I make a habit of greeting all the new slaves. Today is your first exercise period. You're slated to run laps today, which means you're going to be allowed onto the outdoor track. Now, some slaves see sunlight and they snap, they take off for the outer walls. I'm sure you won't be as dumb as they are. You can rest assured that we are not only watching you closely, but your collars have built-in anti-theft devices. Have you ever heard of an invisible fence? They make 'em for dogs, but the same principle applies to you. If your collar detects you leaving the area you have clearance for the day, Rover gets a big, old shock. And make sure you do what your trainers tell you, because they'll have no problem putting you over their knee if they need to. So keep your head on straight and we won't have any problems. As you were." Mistress Hannah nodded at them, nodded at her trainers, and left through the door of the shed.

The trainers led the girls out too, onto a field. Nearby was an oblong running track with a rubbery surface. "All right, slaves," one of the trainers said, "let's start you off with five laps in the next fifteen minutes, then five pull-ups on the bar over there. If you need water, that's over here. If you understand, get going!"

The three of them got going, running along the track.

After their exercise period, the three of them were taken back to their cell. The fitness assistants locked the high-heeled booties back on their feet, and left them to their half hour alone. Franz took first shower, stripping off her powder blue leotard and ducking under the showerhead. Pepper looked away as Franz did her enema, only to accidentally make eye contact with a girl in the next cell who was that very moment releasing a spray of shit down the drain. She didn't even seem bothered.

When she stuck the nozzle up her ass and pressed the button to start the enema, the warm water pumped up into her bowels. When she felt full, she pressed the button again, but it didn't stop.

"It's a fixed size," Diane said as Franz tightened her corset. "It stops when it stops, I guess."

Pepper rolled her eyes and took the nozzle out, letting the water pour down the drain along with her shit. She finished showering and Diane helped her into her corset as Franz took her turn showering.

They had been cleaned and dressed for a few minutes by the time Mistress Vera and her assistants opened their cell door. "Good morning, girls," she crowed. "How are you enjoying the new accommodations?"

When she got no response, she frowned. "When I ask you a question, you answer it. Understood?"

"Yes, Mistress." Diane added, "Enjoying them well, Mistress."

Vera nodded, and commanded, "Stand and present for your hygiene inspection, and bend forward." Pepper spread her legs and laced her fingers behind her head, elbows out. Seline and Diane came around to check each girl's general cleanliness, as well as spreading their cheeks to get a view of their anuses.

"Pepper didn't do a proper enema," Seline spoke up from behind her.

Pepper wanted to cry out - how could she possibly tell? (As it turned out, she was right. They'd watched her take the nozzle out early over the camera mounted in the ceiling.) Instead she shut up as Mistress Vera grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the cell and to a rack sitting nearby. It was a wooden frame in the shape of a numeral "4." Seline helped Vera clip Pepper's nipples and clit to the bars running across the diagonal piece, then strapped her arms down the uprights, and her legs to the horizontal pieces. The angle of the frame spread her legs, thrusting her ass directly out.

"Pepper," Vera said, "I'm disappointed. I thought you were prepared to administer to your own bodily needs, but I see now I was mistaken." Birdie stood at attention behind Vera, holding leashes attached to the clit rings of Franz and Diane.

Seline rolled a cart over from the closet. A water tank was perched on top, and she handed Vera an enema nozzle attached to it. She promptly shoved it up Pepper's ass sans lubrication. Pepper cried out as she felt cold water pump violently into her ass. Her bowels filled up quickly, and she began screaming and groaning as she felt it pushing against her insides. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if she wasn't in her tight corset.

Long after she felt she couldn't take any more, Vera pulled the nozzle from her ass. She could see Seline holding a five-gallon bucket in her peripheral vision. She clenched her muscles for all she was worth until Vera announced, "you may shit, Pepper."

Once she had expelled the mostly-still-clear water into the bucket, Vera picked up a riding crop and lashed it violently across her ass. Pepper tried to avoid flinching, since it caused her to painfully tug on her nipple and clit rings. After her entire ass was stinging, they unbound her from the frame.

"Next time you perform your enema improperly, I'm going to pump you full of chilli oil. I hope that's the last word I need to give you on the subject."

"Yes, Mistress!" Pepper cried, standing at attention as Seline attached her leash.

Mistress Vera led the group out of the cell block to their training room for the day.

In the second stage of training, life once again settled into a routine. Waking up to the blaring alarm. Hastily eating and getting dressed, then calisthenics with the fitness assistants. A more intense exercise session immediately afterward, on about half the days. Sometimes it was running; sometimes they did weight training; sometimes they swam laps in the pool. After the morning exercise, they were returned to their cell to shower, cleanse, and change clothes. All three girls were careful to take the full enema.

Then Mistress Vera came and got them, and it was time for a lengthy training session. Often it was sex training, less oriented toward blunt objectification than in the first stage, and more focused on technique and learning commands. Other times Mistress Vera inflicted subjugation and humiliation on them, putting them firmly in their place. Once a week, they got a thorough cleaning at the hands of Birdie and Seline, which included removing their collars and chastity belts. This was also when they got their hormone shots.

After that, if they hadn't had an extended exercise period earlier, they had one in the evening. Then they were returned to their cell, undressed, ate, and slept more or less soundly.

The routine was broken, however, by something their trainers called "extended exercises." One or all of the girls would be taken by a mistress for a multiple-day session. Diane was selected for one of these in the first week of their second stage. All three of the girls were scared and uncertain when she was taken one morning. When she got back in the evening of the next day, she told them about it.

Mistress Mourning, a small woman in a black latex catsuit, had kept Diane as her pet. Her arms and legs had been restrained so that she could not stand up, and had to crawl awkwardly. She was made to eat dog food off the floor and to piss on the ground outside. She was kept in a tiny kennel overnight. Still, it wasn't as bad as she had expected, she said.

A week and a half after that, it was Pepper who was being whisked away after the morning exercise period. She was nervous, but she remembered Diane's experience. An unfamiliar pair of trainers in white slave outfits blindfolded her and led her through a long tunnel, then up a staircase. They walked over a wooden floor to a room Pepper was fairly sure she hadn't seen, not that she could see it now.

The trainers pushed her to her knees and began wrapping ropes around her naked body. They put a wide, leather strap across her knees and then bent them back, tying her thighs to her shins. Her wrists were tied together behind her back, and the rope was then passed through her legs and connected with webbing that was being carefully woven across her torso. Once they'd finished with that, they hoisted up the leather strap that was tied behind her knees, and Pepper along with it. They left her hanging upside down from her knees, legs spread, arms bound behind her back so that any movement of them would tighten the crotch rope.

Several minutes went by before Pepper heard a voice. It was familiar, but it took her a few moments to place it. "Slave Pepper. Welcome to my boudoir. I've been doing some reading..." It was the head bitch herself, Monica Lieber!

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