After the final phone call, Ann turned off her iPhone. She took a deep breath and fondled her hair. It was too hot in the condo, so the strands of hair were sticking together.
For today, she had done everything. The girls would wait until they got their orders. Ann walked into the kitchen. A glass of white wine stood beside the stove. She took a sip, even though the wine had adapted to the condos temperature.
Ann fondled her hair again. The coppery strands stuck at her fingers.
After a while, Ann entered her bathroom. She took off her blue bathrobe and sat on the toilet completely naked. She sat there for five minutes and urinated until she felt empty. The sound of the toilet flushing made her think she heard a muffled sound from the condo. Had one of her files dropped from the large table?
Still naked she took a brief ran through the room, but saw nothing suspicious.
All she heard was her voice.
"Is anybody in?"
"Anybody in ...?"
Ann walked back into the bathroom, entered the shower cubicle and turned on the water. At first, the water jet was too warm, then too cold. After a minute, the water temperature had perfectly set. Ann felt the water flow first through her hair and then on her skin. She had needed this shower.
The door of the shower cubicle was made of blackened glass and did not let any light through, but there were small LED lamps on the ceiling, which illuminated the room. Ann's hands slipped over her body. She had a perfect figure, c-sized breasts, a narrow waist and female hips. Altogether, with her red hair, Ann fulfilled many men's dreams.
Nevertheless, she preferred to work with women - for them, it was easier to accept orders.
First Ann washed her hair with shampoo and rinsed, before the used conditioner. While the conditioner was taking effect, she washed her body with shower lotion. When the jet of water met her head, foam flowed over her shoulders, breasts, navel, and shaved pubes.
Little did Ann know that this would be her last shower as a free woman.
The scene was surreal. At first, Ann didn't want to believe it. She had left the shower cubicle and saw a woman standing, next to the sink.
"What the fuck?"
Nobody except Ann had a key to the condo. This was their ... realm. Not even the cat burglars, who worked for Ann and broke into houses, knew this place.
"This isn't real, isn't it?"
The woman wore matte black, tight-fitting clothes and black ballets flats. Her dark blonde hair was curled into a bun.
She didn't say a word.
Ann saw that the woman was holding a black can in one of her hands.
So far, Ann had been so surprised that she hadn't known how to react. Now she lifted an arm in front of the wet breasts and covered her pubic with the other hand. At the same time, the woman held the spray can right into Ann's face. The chemical smell of aerosol hit her mouth and nose.
"Hey! Stop it! "Ann wanted to attack, but the other woman ducked to the side. At the same time, Ann's legs softened. She dropped to her knees, feeling her body weaken with every breath she took. She realized that she had been sedated. For a last, brief moment, adrenaline forced her eyes to open and Ann heard the woman say: "Welcome to slavery."
Ann passed out.
The darkness faded from Ann's head. Finally, she could was able her eyes. Her mind was filled with fog, but she knew, that something had happened. She felt the danger.
Ann was lying on her back. She turned her head first to the left and then to the right and saw the furnishings of her condo. Her mouth felt strange. She wanted to get up, but could not move her arms or feet.
Panicking, Ann rose her head and looked down at herself. Her back was on the large table. In front of her she saw her bare breasts, which lifted with every breath, she took. Below that was her waist and legs. Her arms lay on the table's top, left and right to her head. A thick hemp rope was knotted around the wrists.
She wanted to scream, but only managed to moan something like "M'e'fff!" Her mouth was stuffed and she was unable to close the jaw. With her tongue, Ann licked an object stuck between her lips that was shaped like a ball.
Gradually Ann realized that she was lying naked, bound and gagged on her own table. Wrists and ankles were rope-tied to the table legs. She reared up and fought the bonds, but the rope kept her restrained. Ann saw another rope wrapping around her knees. It ran under the tabletop and spread her legs. Wide. Whoever would stand at the tables end would see her most intimate parts.
A clock hung on one of the walls. For the next fifteen minutes, Ann saw the minute hand move from 15 to 30 as she tried unsuccessfully to free herself or call for help.
She could barely suck air around the gag, so eventually, Ann finally calmed down, breathing heavily. Her skin was covered with sweat.
She heard footsteps from the bathroom.
"Mbbbffff! 'Eehhh'! ""
The bathrooms door opened and the woman who had overpowered Ann entered the living room and walked towards to the table.
Ann looked at the woman, startled. She was slim, athletic and had a medium-sized breast. Her walk were model-like, feminine, which was accented by the high heels. The woman must had left her clothes in the bathroom. She only was wearing shoes, a pair from Ann's shoe cabinet.
"N'e'e'ooooh!" Let me go! "'o'!" Now!
"Shhht!" The woman put the index finger to her lips.
Something hung from the woman's waist. Much to her dismay, Ann realized that the woman, who had overpowered her, wore a strap-on dildo, with the size of a forearm. The dildo looked hard, like a man's' erected penis.
The woman stopped by the table and looked down on her prisoners. She moved her hips so that the dildo was lifted on the table, next to Ann.
Ann turned her head, denying any reality to this woman, the restraints or the phallic object. With steel fingers, the woman grabbed Ann's hair and forced her to turn the head again.
Ann raged, reared up, screamed desperately, but when she looked back at the woman, the dildo pointed directly at the gagged mouth.
Ann took a deep breath.
The woman said: "You are allowed to call me your mistress. Of course, only if I ungag you. "
"You will only speak if I ask you a question or if I allow it."
The woman stepped a little bit closer to the table. Now, the dildo made contact with the ball gag. The woman's fingers remained fixed on Ann's head.
With the other hand, the woman reached between Ann's legs. Something must had been there, something, the bound woman hadn't touched. She recognized her iPhone. The cell phone case was made of dark blue metal.
The display asked for a 4-digit number.
"I need the iPhone's PIN and the laptop's password," the woman said. The tone in her voice made clear, that she would not tolerate any disobedience.
Ann tried to shake her head.
"Big mistake, slave girl."
The woman left the living room and entered the bathroom. Ann tried to twist her hands out of the ropes, but the shackles were wrapped too tight to her wrists. When the woman returned, she was holding a squeeze tube in her right hand. Ann knew content of this tube. She needed it every time she used her sphere vibrator.
Holding breath, Ann tried to close her thighs. Futile. She felt the woman's hand between her buttocks. Moist, cold lubricant spread over the skin. Ann pushed her rear entrance tight to the table and wished for an additional shackle around her waist.
The woman finished with greasing Ann's anus. After she had reached beneath the table. This time, she pulled out a large bag, similar to infusion bags, and a small hose.
"The PIN. And the password."
"Mbbffff! Mhhhhh!" Even if Ann had said everything, the ball gag would've stopped her.
"I am sorry. I cannot understand you. If you are disobedient, I have to loosen you tongue in a different way. "
An enema nozzle, shaped like a penis, was attached to one of the tubes' end.
"3.78 liters of Ringer's solution. Anally. The enema's nozzle is big enough to seal your anus. You will enjoy any drop of it.
Ann shook her head. She squeezed her ass cheeks together, but the dildo showed no mercy and was shoved deep into her rectum. Ann whimpered as she felt the flow.
To calm down her captive during the enema, the woman massaged Ann's clit with her thumb. The humiliation made Ann blush.
Ann was allowed to lift her butt a bit and turn to the side. She pushed and a jet of water hit the tin bucket, which the woman had probably "borrowed" from the facilities caretaker. Hot water on cold metal. The sound was similar to a cloudburst.
This was Ann's third enema. She felt as if her bowels were bulging out of her rectum. But she shook her head when the woman asked her for the access data.
After two, very deep cleaning enemas, this time almost pure water left Ann's intestine. She had sweated, squirted, peed herself (too much water in her body) and endured endless humiliations by her captor.
"Still no answer?" the woman asked.
Ann turned her head to the opposite side of the table. Some of the enema liquid had dripped onto the table. It had crawled under her back to her copper hair.
"You are so stubborn. Maybe 5 liters more will solve this problem. "
Ann couldn't let the woman unlock the iPhone. All data that led to her criminal activity was on that iPhone. When the prosecutor found these files, Ann and her cat burglars would went to prison.
However, the fifth enema broke Ann's resistance. When the woman freed her from the gag, she whispered the PIN and the password.
"Bitch. You will pay for this. I will whip you, until ..."
Ann watched as the woman unlocked the iPhone.
"Just let me go. I will tell no one."
"Sure." With one of her hands, the woman reached for the gag, still dangling down from Ann's neck, and with the other hand for her captive's breasts. She squeezed Ann's bosom and when the captive cried out, the ball gag was shoved back at its place.
"Much, much better."
Ann wriggled until the woman put the iPhone aside. She touched Ann's flat belly. The tied captive calmed down.
"The trap has been set. In a few hours, your girls will withdraw from business forever. When they return to society, they will be law-abiding, productive and reproductive citizens."
Ann lifted her head and took a look out the window. The sun was approaching the horizon, but Ann knew that Monica, Donna, and Steph wouldn't break into the house before it was after dusk. Perhaps there was still hope that ...
One hand on her breasts and one on the pubic area redirected Ann's attention back to her captor.
"You're thinking about how to escape from me and save your girls, aren't you? Don't worry - I've thought of everything. We both will take all the time we need and spend the afternoon and evening together. I will tie you up in a way that any escape is impossible. As soon as my master takes care of your girls, we leave your condo and I take you to a dungeon, where your behavior will also be corrected. "
The woman seemed to wait for Ann's respond, but the prisoner stared at the ceiling.
"For my master, these corrective measures are his passion. I see them more practical. According to the data on your iPhone, you organized at least 19 burglaries last year. If you and your girls disappear, the crime rate in this city will drop. Of course, sooner or later other professional burglars will appear. But by then you and your girls will have been well trained and my master and I can then take care of any new cat burglars."
The woman reached for Ann's ass again. This time, however, she briefly shove one of her fingers into the rectum. Ann didn't struggle. She wanted to lure the woman into a false sense of security. Then, maybe, she could manage to escape.
The woman sat down, next to Ann on the tabletop and unlocked the iPhone again. Apparently she flipped through the photo gallery.
"Nice photo," the woman said without showing Ann the iPhone's screen.
A warm feeling spread in Ann's bottom. Suddenly she had to fight a debilitating weariness. Her eyelids grew heavy.
When the woman noticed this, she said: "I shoved a suppository into you. It contains a sedative. This will give me the time to untie you from the table and shackle you. When you wake up, your training begins. "The woman fondled her strap-on dildo. "Later we can watch the break-in via your laptop. In the house, CCTV is installed and active. As I said - we thought of everything. This will be better than any movie. Even better than porn."
Ann didn't want to fall asleep, but the sedative was stronger than she was. Soon she was lying on the table with her eyes closed and breathing calmly. The woman - Elizabeth - began to carefully loosen the ropes from Ann's wrists.
The house where Monica, Donna, and Stephanie would break in tonight was in a suburban area. The three cat burglars had parked their delivery van 100 meters away. While Monica and Donna put on their cat suits, Steph worked on the laptop. It was her job to turn off the alarm.
Ann's news that the break-in would take place tonight had come at very short notice. But the three cat burglars had rescheduled. Under no circumstances did they want to annoy their manager.
"That's strange," Steph said, looking up from her MacBook.
"Are there any problems," asked Monica, pulling the cat suits zipper up. "You can handle the security, can you?"
Steph nodded. "Of course. But the software's algorithms do not fit to a security system. It looks more like a video game. "
"So what?" Donna shrugged. "As long as you let us in. Maybe this will be like "They stole a Million"."
"Wasn't that for the Commodore 64?", Steph asked.
Monica and Donna would break into the house while Stephanie was overseeing everything from the outside. The women checked their equipment one last time.
Monica tied her blonde hair into a short ponytail. She looked at Donna. Her colleague had huge breasts, which stretched taut under the cat suit. This scene look like an erotic film for men - but of course Monica and Donna wore sneakers and not high heels.
"Is it dark enough already?"
"The computer says the sunset was an hour ago. It doesn't get much darker. "
"Well. Then ... Check, Check. "
The headsets worked.
Monica quietly opened the vans backdoor and got out. In the shadow of the bushes on the side of the road, both cat burglars sneaked to the house.
Chapter 11 (added: 2020/08/08)
The front door opened without any help of the cat burglars. Monica took a long look over her shoulder. A shadowy hedge surrounded the property. Passerbies could not look from the street into the garden or on the house.
They couldn't, could they?
The women had had to climb a tree and over a branch to pass the hedge. Fortunately, the back of the property bordered on an overgrown meadow.
"Come on," Donna whispered.
Monica entered the house. The ceiling lamps automatically lit up, while the shutters remain closed.
"Thanks, Stephanie," Monica whispered.
"What did you say?" asked Donna.
The door closed behind them and snapped into the lock. Steph would have to let the women out later.
They looked around the entrance area. A modern house. There were no jackets or coats hanging from the cloak rack. According to Ann's message, the house's owner was on vacation.
"The computer is upstairs," Monica whispered and nodded toward the stairs.
"654321". She had memorized the password. The client wanted the two women to find a file and copy it on floppy disk.
Suddenly the software that was supposed to grant Steph access to the security program went crazy and tried to block the malware.
Steph quickly opened a second computer program and started with the upload. This should deactivate the safety program without the intruders being back traced.
Instead, several windows popped up on the MacBook screen. All of them showed the inside of the house. There was CCTV everywhere. Ann had never mentioned this minor detail.
Quickly, Steph looked through all of the surveillance images. None of them showed her colleagues. Good - they weren't in the house yet. Ann would not be pleased if the break-in would be called off, but this was better than being caught by the police.
The malware was still trying to bypass the safety program when someone knocked at the van's backdoor. Donna and Monica had returned.
"Door 's open!" Steph called, but her colleagues didn't react. She got up, put the laptop aside and opened the door.
Instead of the two cat burglars, a man stood in front of her. Ice-gray hair, brawny and the type of man, women expected to be an experienced guardian.
"What the fuck. Who are you? "Steph asked suspiciously.
The man held a spray can in front of her face. The chemical smell of aerosol hit Steph's mouth and nose.
She was too surprised to react. Then, her legs softened. Stephanie dropped to her knees, feeling her body weaken with every breath she took. She realized that she had been sedated. She tipped forward and was caught by the man's arms.
"Fuck ..." Her voice was just a whisper.
The last thing Steph noticed was how the man lay her body down on the ground.
Was there no one to hear her moans and pleas?
Ann was lying on the floor of her condo. The woman had put her in chains. Ann's arms were tied behind her back, forearm to forearm and secured to her hip with an additional chain. She had was tied at her ankles, her knees and then her legs restrained together into a kneeling position. Ann was on her left side. Her mouth was sealed with a penis gag. Penis gag. That was how the woman had called this device. Ann's tongue felt the detailed contours of the plastic member in her mouth. Also, a butt plug with the size of a pinecone stuck in her ass. She was at the knees of the woman, who was fucking her. The strap-on dildo stuck between Ann's labia pushed forward and backward.
The woman knew what she was doing. The dildo caused nothing but pure, intensive pleasure. Ann already had come twice. Her hair, just washed, was covered with sweat.
None of her neighbors seemed to hear, when the two female bodies pumped into each other or when a manacled captive groaned into her gag during the next orgasm.
Dale looked down at the cat burglar, he had just put out of business. Stephanie. The young black woman lay on the ground and breathed shallow. Her eyes were closed, the corneas moving fast behind the eyelids. REM. Unlike the other two cat burglars in Dale's house, Stephanie was not using one of these silly cat suits. Instead, she was wearing sneakers, short white socks, jeans and a navel-free top. As a man, Dale of course took a quick look at the bosom that was hint beneath the top. A-size or B-size? Stephanie had a pretty, with smooth facial features and her black hair braided back.
Before he had knocked at the van, Dale had made sure that there was no one else on the street, but now he checked again. There were no witnesses.
To keep it that way, he lifted the limp body of his captive and put her back into the van.
It had been easy to find the computer. It was in a study on the first floor of the house. Tower, CRT, keyboard, trackball. The tower was equipped with an 8'' floppy disc drive.
What Monica made nervous was the computer's slow processor. The operating system was Windows 98 and needed three minutes just to boot - password: 654321 - and now she used the search feature to find the "cptv9to11"-file on the hard disk. The progress bar increased from 23 %, to 24 %, to 25 % ...
The noise of the magnetic scanner on the hard drive sounded like hammering.
"It's too noisy, isn't it" Donna asked.
Monica nodded, but said, "Nobody can hear us."
They had closed the study's door but Monica was afraid, that if somebody else entered the house, she would miss it.
Finally, the progress bar reached 100 %. A new window on the screen showed 17 files.
"Just copy all files," Donna said.
"I would, but there are just 0.2 MB of memory space on the floppy disk."
"What is this? The 90s?"
"Ann wrote a short description about the content of the file. I'm afraid, we have to open them one by one until we find the right one. "
When Monica opened the first file, another pop-up appeared on screen. The software needed a new update. At least, Steph hadn't cut the internet. 1% ... 2% ... 3% ...
"I'm thirsty," Donna said.
"Then have a drink," Monica said.
"I go to the kitchen. "
"What?" Monica realized what she just had said. "No! Don't! In and out without leaving any trace."
Donna gave her a dry look. "I will go to the kitchen and have a glass of water. Okay?"
Monica sighed. "Don't leave any traces. "
"I'm not a rookie, bitch."
Stephanie should have been scared, but all she felt was rage. Why hadn't she just attacked the man immediately? There had been no reason for him, knocking at the van's door. She should've known that something was wrong.
Now she was lying naked on the floor in the van's cargo space. Short chains tied her wrists and ankles together and connected both to each other. Steph knew from the internet that this stress bondage pose was called hog tie. The man had hogtied her.
She raised her head and looked around. She was alone. The MacBook was out of range. Half of its screen showed pictures from the cctv inside the house, the other half a Dutch horror film from an online streaming service.
Stephanie's mouth was sealed with a panel. The panel rested firmly on the lips and secured a plastic penis that protruded into her mouth. It was impossible for her to scream for help.
Furiously, Stephanie clenched her toes and tried to grab something with her feet, but the short chain didn't allow much movement. Huge dildos stuck in her vagina and her butt, both held in place by a tight chain between her legs and around the waist. Steph could reach the chain with her fingers but it was too tight to loosen.
File no. 10 was also a miss. Monica took a brief look on its content and swore: "Shit!"
She closed the file and opened no. 11. Again, it took almost 5 minutes for the computer to respond.
Donna still hadn't returned yet.
Her sensitive nipples touched the van's cold ground. Stephanie lifted her upper body and watched the screen in front of her. She tried to crawl forward, but a pain in the ass forced her to stop. She reached for the chains between her buns and noticed another chain that seemed to connect the anal dildo with the floor. Steph was chained to the van.
At the same time, Stephanie gently pulled at the chain and pressed against intestinal content. Her anus widened, but again, Steph felt a numb pain inside her, which put her on hold. It seemed like the dildo was equipped with some kind of physical barrier or obstacle.
Stephanie closed her eyes. In her mind, she fought again against her captor, overpowered him with a playfully gesture and saved herself and her colleagues.
Back in the van, she looked at the MacBook's screen. Split in the middle, the left half still showed the Netflix horror flick. Steph knew this movie. "The human watering can". A mad scientist, Dr. Heiter, performed body modifications to turn two American tourists and a Japanese into sprinklers.
The right half of the screen was showing Monica, who was sitting in front of an outdated computer. She was rubbing her wrists. Next second, the image switched to Donna. The man from the van was tying her to a chair.
Her sensitive nipples touched the condo's rough floor.
Ann wasn't trying to say something. Instead, she kept making the same muffled sounds again and again to get the woman's attention. Breathing heavily, her captor had been lying on her back for the last ten minutes, right after she had pulled the dildo out of Ann's vagina.
"Is something wrong?", the woman asked, turning her face to Ann.
"Do you want me to remove the gag?"
"Mmhh!" Ann nodded.
"That would be a shame. You look so sexy with this penis gag in your face. And I love the cute moans of your gag talk."
"Are you thirsty?"
After five enemas, Ann wasn't thirsty. But hoping that the woman would ungag her, she nodded again.
"Sure." The woman got up, went for the bathroom. The water tap was opened for about a minute. Then, the woman came back, with her a filled enema bag, the hose and the penis nozzle.
"These are 5 liters. I'm sure it will help. "
Frustrated, Monica looked up from the personal computer.
Her voice echoed through the house.
Monica put her hands over her mouth. How stupid was she?
Donna didn't answer, but there was a loud noise from the ground floor.
Monica went down the stairs and looked through the entrance area, which was still illuminated by the ceiling lamps. But unlike previous, now there was light from the living room and the kitchen.
"Donna? Where ... are you?"
Slowly, Monica walked towards the living room. The room was empty. The furniture consisted of bookshelves, a leather couch, two color-matching armchairs and a large flat screen TV. A thick, sound-absorbing carpet covered the floor.
"You can't be serious!" Donna couldn't be that stupid!
Despite the lack of viewers (except Monica), the TV showed a low-brow comedy. A nude woman bent with her ass over a hemp bush and spattered it with water. Without showing any details, the film tried to capture the whole scene. R-rated or PG-13? The claims for rating for films had softened during the last decade.
"Donna? Did you really turn on the TV?"
Monica slipped out of the living room in the direction from which she heard the guttural sound.
The kitchen matched with the rest of the house. Functional and frugal. In the middle of the room was a large black granite countertop with a gas stove. The two refrigerators on the windows side were Wi-Fi- and touch screen-equipped. One of the displays showed the same movie from the living room. Next to the sink was a knife block with steel knives and a half-full glass of water.
Next to the countertop sat Donna, restrained to a chair. Drool dripped from the lower lip of her gagged mouth. Her ankles were chained to the chair legs with. Her arms were handcuffed on her back and to the backrest. She kept fighting against her restrains, but the cuffs and chains were stronger than she was. Donna moaned. In her mouth was a red ball gag, which was held by a harness.
Donna had previously worn the ballet flats, socks, the cat suit and gloves. She was still wearing the gloves and socks, but the ballet flats were gone. In addition, someone had pulled the front zipper of the cat suit down, far enough to expose her breasts and the white bra.
Chapter 21 (added: 2020/10/04)
Donna had been overpowered while drinking a glass of water. Now, she sat on a chair, with an uncomfortable gag in her mouth and a pad lock-secured harness around her head. Metal cuffs touched her gloves and socks. When Donna moved, a little pad lock swung at the back of her head.
For the past 15 minutes, she had been forced to watch a movie, showing a woman getting enemas and relieving herself over flowers and fresh green.
Finally, Monica entered the kitchen. Her eyes wide open she walked towards the chair.
Monica strained at the ankle cuffs, which kept her colleague restrained.
She took a look at the lock, which secured Donnas cuffs. Of course, it was not that kind of model that could be opened with a hair clip.
Moreover, Monica had no hair clip with her.
"Shit." She ran her fingers through the ponytail.
Again, a long drop of saliva dripped from the ball gag and onto the bra's fabric. The white turned transparent. This wasn't just a gag, this was a sex toy. The red ball in Donna's mouth caught everyone's attention and showed, that the bound woman was no longer allowed to speak.
"Hold still." Monica tried to pull the ball out of Donna's mouth, but the harness was too tight. When she tried to open the buckle on the back of Donna's head, she saw that the gag was secured with a small padlock.
Monica grasped for the handcuffs, which felt sticky. Suddenly, her fingers began to tingle.
Ann's captor had forced her to lie on the side, face to the laptop screen. Helplessly, Ann had watched how Donna had been tied up. Now, Monica was trying unsuccessfully to loosen the manacles.
"That's better than Disney+, isn't it?" the woman asked, touching Ann's labia with the strap-on. Next moment, she shove the phallic object deep into her prisoner's most private part.
Ann was too exhausted to feel any more humiliation. She could only hope that the third girl had escaped. After all, Steph had not appeared on any of the surveillance footage.
The woman pressed her prisoner down on the floor and fucked her faster. Ann clenched her stomach muscles and again, a thin trickle ran out of her bottom. By now, her bowels had to be perfectly clean.
The woman's hand kneaded Ann's breasts. This wasn't sex; it was a gesture of domination. The woman groaned.
On the screen, Ann could see Monica rubbing her hands. Donna fought her restraints. Why hadn't Monica freed the poor girl from the gag?
The woman groaned louder and louder and Ann suppressed a gagged moan.
Meanwhile, Monica paced through the kitchen, rubbing her arms.
Before she orgasmed, the woman tore the sex toy off her hip, exposing a small dildo on the inner side of the strap-on, which had stuck, between her reddened labia. She climbed on Ann and fixed the captive's head between her knees. Screeching, she climaxed and squirted all over Ann's face.
Horrified, Monica realized that the handcuffs had been sprayed with some kind of contact poison. Donna wore gloves, which must had protected her.
Monica's arms tingled up to the shoulder and her fingers became numb. She reached for her face and rubbed her eyes.
Immediately, the tingling spread over her eyelids and cheeks.
"This ... can't be happening ..."
Monica dropped to her knees. All went black around her and she lost consciousness.
Someone knocked on the back door of the van. Stephanie raised her head and screamed as loud as she could through the panel gag. The door opened and Steph's captor climbed into the car.
Furiously, the prisoned girl rolled on the ground, ignoring the pain in her anus.
After the man had closed the door behind him, he said, "Hi, sweetheart."
Stephanie memorized on the man's face. Gray hair, brown eyes. He looked thoroughly fit for his age. She would've never admitted this, but he was exactly the type of man she was into. Stephanie preferred older men. Experienced men.
But this one was old enough to be her father.
He crouched next to her and asked, "Did you had a good time?"
Denying any answer, Steph sucked at the dildo in her mouth. The man reached for her and next moment, she felt his hand on her back. Stephanie's muscles hardened. The hand moved down to her ass and between the thighs. His fingertips twirled her short pubes.
"You are not the first girl, who's lying hogtied in front of me. But I've never handled a girl, whose hole moistened that fast in the first night." Now, his hand slipped over her labia and in horror, Steph realized that the man had said the truth.
"This is different from sitting in front of a computer. You're used to watch your two sexy friends invading houses and violating stranger's lives. How does it feel to be a part of the real game?"
The dildo inside Stephanie's intestines moved and she felt its pressure easing. She contracted her muscles and the dildo slipped out of her body.
"There's a much better life waiting for you. Some that fits more with your needs. You will see. Once your rebellious spirit is broken, you'll see your purpose for this society."
Steph refused to show any reaction. The man reached for the panel gag. Next moment, she was able to push the dildo out of her mouth with her tongue.
"Tsst. You only speak when I allow you to."
A new object was shoved through the hole in the middle of the panel gag. A foul taste spread all over Stephanie's tongue. The man had inserted the anal dildo into her mouth.
Ann sat on the toilet. The woman, now fully clothed, crouched next to her, holding Ann's hand.
"Good girl. Just let it out."
How many liters had the woman infused into Ann's guts? No wonder she need to pee. Frustrated, Ann looked down on her drool-smeared bosom.
"That was just the beginning. As soon as you'll serve as my personal plaything in my pleasure room, all your food will be inserted anally. By this, I can keep you gagged 24/7."
"Did you call me a bitch?"
"But I think that you called me a bitch. Therefore, I have to puni... "
An alarm tone interrupted the woman. She reached for her smartphone that was on the sink. Quickly, she scrolled through screen.
"This is important. I'm sorry, but I have to leave you for a few minutes. "The woman stood up and looked down on her prisoner. "You will not try to escape, will you? Just keep sitting and wait until I'm back. Then, I will punish you and your foul mouth. "
The woman left the bathroom. Ann could hear a door slam.
Was she alone?
Ann got up. Her hands were still chained to her hips and a short chain cuffed her ankles. Taking tiny steps, she left the bathroom and entered an abandoned living room.
Ann's view fell on the phone. Could she call 911? She leaned forward and tried to reach the gag with her hands, but the chain from the handcuffs was too short. Using a table corner, she tried to level the ball out of her mouth, but its surface was slippy and the gag stuck too deep between her teeth.
Ann moaned in frustration. This was her only chance. There had to be something, she could do.
She did not knew any of her neighbors personally, but if she rang at the doorbells, someone would open the door for a beautiful and bare-naked woman in bondage. The white knight in shiny armor and the damsel in distress.
Slowly, Ann tripped into the direction of the condo's entry door.
Dale plucked at Steph's brown nipples, waiting for a reaction. Now he was pretty sure, that the girl was an A-size.
He said, "You are perfect for my plan. The other girls are bustier, but your wiry body makes you tough. I will be able to train you for hours. "
He saw Stephanie swallowing.
Since the nipples were not hardening, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a zip-lock bag with a plaster in it. Avoiding any skin contact with the plaster, he stuck it on Steph's bottom.
Soon, his prisoners' eyelids fluttered.
"You will sleep for a while now. Meanwhile, I will see for your friends. I'll pick you up later. There's a dungeon waiting for you, designed for your needs. Large dildos, chains, crops, whips, even larger dil..."
The girl's body softened.
It seemed to take forever to cross the apartment. Ann knew that she had only this one chance to escape. All she could do was taking tiny steps forward. She knew, if she stumbled, it would cast precious minutes to straighten up.
Ann moaned into the ball gag when she pulled at the door handle and found out that the door was locked.
Of course, the woman had locked it.
With closed eyes, Ann took a thought. Her bosom itched. After the many enemas, her anus seemed to be stretched far enough, that a bicycle seat could fit into it. Also, she had to force herself to push the knees through. Her legs had become weak.
Then she remembered the spare key. It was hanging in her closet behind the jackets. Ann gathered all her strength and tripped towards the bedroom. The whole time she was afraid that the condo's door would open. Half the way, she paused, hold her breath, and listened. No steps from the stairwell. Just her heartbeat. Every beat made her bosom tremble.
Ann couldn't hold her breath for long. Her nostrils were swollen and the ball in her mouth made it hard to breathe.
She forced herself to keep walking. Finally, she reached the closet and tore down the jackets. When she heard a metallic noise, Ann swore into the gag. The pleather jacket had pulled down the key off the hook. Now it lay somewhere in the pile of clothes.
Then she thought of something better: the alarm gun.
It was in the safe at the bottom of the closet. Ann knew that it was risky but she knelt down and shoved the jackets aside.
Even if the woman had found the safe, it would only open via a number combination and by Ann's handprint. This was a state-of-the-art model that Ann had cost 75,000 £. The safe stood on the closet's ground, connected to the condo's floor by a steel chain.
It took all of Ann's strength to lean towards the safe and enter the number combination. Then she pressed her hands on the contact plate.
Ann looked at her hands. The tight cuffs had dammed the blood flow. Her handprints were too swollen to be recognized by the software.
Eventually Ann had found the spare key. Now, she tripped/tiptoed back to the door. Her tormentress had not yet returned.
Before the tried to open the door, she turned off the ceiling lights. Light could've revealed that someone was leaving the condo. Avoiding any sound, Ann put the key into the lock. She heard a soft crack. Then the door opened. Ann was free.
She felt cold tiles under the soles of her feet. To her left was the stair downwards. Ann would've given anything to scream for help. Instead, all she could do was taking tiny steps forwards. She was afraid of losing her balance in the total darkness. Turning on the stairwell lights was risky, but Ann decided to take it. All she heard were her breath and her bare feet, slapping on the ground.
Finally, her fingers found the right button and pushed it. Bright light blinded her eyes.
Next second, the grip of a hand closed around Ann's upper arm. The woman was standing right next to her.
"You are a very, very nasty sex slave."
Ann wanted to resist, to run away or fight back. But it was all futile.
Her tormentress grabbed Ann at the long red hair and dragged her back into the condo.
Donna calmed down. She felt the flow. It filled her bowels and let her relax. Everything was dark. Neither could she move nor talk. However, she heard a man's voice. It seemed like he was talking to someone via phone.
Donna wondered if Stephanie or Ann would save her and Monica. The IT expert was attentive. She must've already realized that something had went wrong. Ann would also become suspicious if her cat burglars wouldn't report back. Until then, all Donna could do was to accept the unavoidable.
The man said, "I understand that you are upset. You have every reason to. Just do what you think is right. "
While Donna was wondering who he was talking to, a hand fingered her voluptuous boobs.
As punishment for Ann’s attempt to escape, the woman dragged her into the shower cubicle and chained her to the shower rail. Ann desperately tried to fight back, but the woman easily managed her bound prisoner.
Ann watched as the woman undressed and then climbed into the shower cubicle, too. Both women's bodies came very close, bosom to bosom. Ann was kept from moving back by chains on her ankles, knees, hips, below and above her breasts and the throat.
Slowly the woman's hands glided down on Ann’s body, first through the beautiful, red hair, then over the shoulder, the curves, the sexy navel, down to the bald labia and finally the legs.
"You are shaved", the woman said. "That's how I prefer my slaves."
She turned on the shower and water splashed over the bodies. Ann’s bladder was full again. The urethral sphincter relaxed.
"Bad girl. You just went to the toilet."
The woman's black hair was clinging to her face and shoulders. Ann wondered how old her captor was. Ann found the idea of being overpowered by a younger woman as an additional humiliation. She averted her eyes and looked down at the floor. The shower water formed a swirl over the drain.
The woman turned off the water. She took one of the bottles from the shower caddy and poured its content on Ann’s hair. Then she massaged the liquid into the scalp. A chemical smell spread through the cubicle.
With the content of another bottle, the woman soaped Ann’s body all over, making sure that the ass and vagina were thoroughly cleaned. Ann was covered in foam. She hoped to slip out of the handcuffs, but they were still too tight.
"To bad, isn't it?" the woman scoffed. The chemicals made Ann’s eye burn. Tears ran down her cheeks.
“It doesn't really matter because from now on you will always wear a gag. Nevertheless, I just decided that as my slave you are no longer allowed to use certain words. Until now, you've probably talked about your breasts or your bosom. From now on you will call them tits. Also, you are only allowed to use the word cunt when you talk about your womanhood. These are vile words, aren’t they? But if you don't obey me, I'll torture your tits and your cunt. And don't think you can trick me. I owned many gagged slaves and am used to gag talk."
The woman's hand fondled through Ann’s hair. A strand of dark red hair was caught between her fingers.
Ann realized that the woman had used depilatory instead of shampoo.
As the shower jet hit her head, all hair gradually came loose and clogged the drain.
The woman stroked Ann’s smooth head.
“From now on you will serve as a mannequin. Bald, symmetric and deprived of your femininity."
Slowly, Monica’s mind came back to a waken state. She felt cold. Her skin was in touch with a hard surface.
Little by little, she remembered. The kitchen. Donna in bondage. A contact poison.
Monica opened her eyes and saw the floor right in front of her. Carefully, she moved her arms.
Her stomach and breasts were in touch with something that looked like parquet. Monica rolled on her back, stretched out her arms and rubbed the wrists.
When she looked down at herself, she saw that someone had stripped her naked.
Startled, she straightened up and covered her bare bosom. The cat suit was gone. Her feet hurt and felt strange. Monica’s view was still blurry, but when she focused, she saw the pair of black high heels. She reached for her feet. 6’’ heels. Black, with a red sole. She tried to take off the shoes, but found out that they were attached to her feet with a small chain and a filigree padlock.
It took a minute for Monica to get up. She wasn't used to wear such high heels and balanced more than she stood. She located herself in the entrance area of the house.
Screaming for help seemed like a stupid idea. Instead, she used her other hand to cover the pubic area with the palm.
The break-in had turned into pure mayhem.
As Monica balanced towards the front door, every step she took echoed through the rooms. Still covering herself, Monica clenched her fists. She was ready to fight.
When she passed the kitchen, she glanced into the now empty room. Donna was gone.
Monica reached the front door and pulled the handle. The lock did not open. She waited briefly, hoping that Steph would see her via CCTV. But when she tried again, the door stayed closed.
At least, she could speak and was not forced to wear a humiliating gag.
Next to the door was a window. Monica pulled up the blinds and thrashed at the glass with her fists. It sounded muffled. This was special glass that absorbed sound. No one in the street could hear the locked-up woman.
Eventually, Ann was freed from her restraints and allowed to wear something. Under the watchful eye of the woman - who held a taser in her hand – the captive stood in the center of the condo, rubbing first her numb wrists and then her ankles. The hours in bondage had left red imprints on the skin.
When Ann reached for the buckle that secured her gag, the woman pressed the electrodes against her prisoner’s belly and hissed: "You ought to dress, not talk." When Ann hesitated, the woman added with a grin: "You should yourself ask if you can still talk when you are lying on the floor, twitching and in pool of your own urine."
That convinced Ann. She wiped a thread of saliva from her chin and began to put on the latex clothing the woman had offered her. The woman was also dressed: Tight skirt suit (short skirt), black nylons, black velvet gloves and very naughty high heels. However, her heels were shorter than those platform heels that were waiting for Ann. Instead of underwear, Ann would hide her pubic area beneath a metal chastity belt. Before putting it on, she had to insert a dildo and a butt plug into the matching cavities. The woman handed her the lubricant from the bathroom.
Slowly, Ann spread gel on the lifelike surface of the dildo. The sex toy was smaller than the model the woman had used to fuck Ann and fitted well into her vagina. The butt plug hurt a little as it slid past the muscle.
For further humiliation, the woman checked if the sex toys were inserted correctly.
Touching Ann’s labia, she chuckled: “You know that they say: Grab them by the pussy.”
Again, saliva dripped from Ann’s ball gag onto her bosom. When the chastity belt closed around her waist, it hid her womanhood. With a soft “click” the lock snapped into place. The dildo and plug could no longer slid out.
Right next to Ann, the laptop stood on the table. On the screen, she could see the now naked Monica stumbling through the house and Donna, also naked, who was suspended from a ceiling.
Ann continued to dress. The shoes were way too tight. Then there was a metal collar for her neck and a black latex hood, she had to pull over her bald head. The hood had five holes: Two for the eyes, two for the nostrils and you could see the red ball gag lodged into the captive’s mouth. Finally, Ann had to put on a black bolero straitjacket, also made of latex. The woman helped Ann to bind both arms tightly.
Ann took two steps forward. She hadn't walked on high heels so shaky since she'd practiced as a teenager.
The woman placed the taser down on the table, knelt in front of Ann and began to tie ankles and knees.
Steph glared up to her captor. She was on her knees, right in front of him. Naked. Since she had woken up, her ankles and neck stuck in an arm spreader.
"There’s no reason for you to cover your body", the man said.
Apart from the places where she was cuffed, Steph was completely naked.
"‘ Aff’taff! "
Stephanie also wore a new kind of gag. Out of the corner of her eye, Steph could see that it was made of a white material. The gag pushed deep into the corners of her mouth. Based on her experience with internet porn, Stephanie assumed she was wearing a dog bone style bit gag. The material was slightly rough on its surface and felt natural. Like hard tissue.
"’ A’h ‘uhh!"
“No. Not today. Maybe later.”
He connected a slim chain to a snap hook at the arm spreader. Now, the restraint was not only an arm tie but also a leashed collar for disobedient girls. The man pulled at the chain and forced Stephanie to stand up. They were still inside of the van.
“You will follow me down the street, to the mansion and into your dungeon. OK?"
The man opened the back door of the van. "Get Out."
Stephanie's feet clapped on the rough road.
This was absurd, but despite the dangerous situation, Monica felt nature’s call.
At first, it had just been a twinge in the lower abdomen, but now Monica’s bladder hurt with every step.
Where was Donna? Neither had Monica found any sign from her colleague in the ground floor nor in the first floor.
"Fuck her." Monica entered the bathroom, she had passed several times during her search.
No Donna. Instead, a toilet bowl was waiting for the cat burglar.
Between the tiled walls, the high heels echoed even louder.
The girl flipped up the toilet seat and sat down. While Monica was peeing, she tried to get free from the ankle chains, which turned out to be futile. The chain was wrapped around each ankle, wound between the shoe’s straps and ran through the gap between the heel and the sole. Whoever had chained Monica to her shoes, the man (<- no doubt about that) had known what he was doing.
"Please don’t move," the woman said.
Ann held her breath and bit into ball in her mouth. Slowly, an alligator clamp sank her teeth into the sensitive nipple. It took all of Ann's self-control to suppress a cry of pain.
“The more you move, the more you feel, babe."
Ann only took very small breaths.
The woman’s hand held a leash with three chains extending from the other end. One of them ended at Ann's collar and two more - short chains – at the alligator clamps. Like a dog, Ann had to follow each pull.
“If you try to flee or call for help, I'll hang weights on the clamps. That will intensify the pain until it is unbearable."
The woman looked through the condo. She said: “While you were in the shower, mourning for your loss of hair, I stuffed most of your clothes into two suitcases. They are already in the car.
I also downloaded files on your laptop that will show to anyone, who will be looking for you, that you fled the country. The police will also find evidence for you criminal activities. It will all fit together. Maybe even Interpol will look after you. Red Notice, if you know what I mean. The good news for you are: Nobody will ever find you. From now on, you are my personal property. By the way: I'll burn the suitcases. There's no need to leave any evidence and I have a lot of plans for you, but none of them include clothes.” The woman grinned evil and pulled on the leash. This time Ann whimpered.
“We will leave your apartment, go down the stairwell to the subterranean garage and take my car. Don't worry - I know that the camera security system in the garage is not working. Nobody will see your exposed tits. "
The woman took large sunglasses out of her jacket and put them on. Her eyes disappeared behind black mirrors.
"Any last words to your condo?"
"‘ Eehfff! ‘Eff’eehhh’ooh!" Ann pleaded.
"Come. Let’s go." With the leash in her hand, the woman forced Ann with her.
Stephanie prayed that someone from the residents was curious enough to watch a man in his fifties, who took a walk with a nude and tied up girl. She walked as slow as her captor permitted.
But it was deep in the night and the windows from the neighboring houses were as dark as the sky. After a while, Steph realized that the man was enjoying the situation. Even if she would’ve cried for help – she wore a bit gag, not a mouth-sealing panel gag – there was no one to listen. Well, except for the guy who fondled now and then her breasts.
When would Ann finally realize that something had gone wrong and call ... whom? The Police?
After a few minutes, they approached a steel gate that gave entry to the property. Surveillance cameras watched the street. Earlier that night, Stephanie had put them offline, but now she felt that she was filmed. Angrily, she looked up to the two camera lenses.
With an app on his smartphone, the man unlocked the gate, which opened silently.
A gravel path led from the gate through an untended garden. Small but pointy stones pierced Stephanie’s feet. The longer she followed the path, the more unpleasing she perceived walking barefoot.
Stephanie wondered if she should swing the arm spreader and hit after the man’s head. Her hands were manacled, but her legs still free. Maybe she could flee and …
"Do you have to urinate?" the man asked.
Steph blushed. Her face felt hot.
"I know that you have to."
How did he know? Stephanie would never relief herself while he was watching.
"Let me help you."
He pulled his prisoner with him, off the path, through the tall grass.
When Monica stumbled out of the toilet – this were no high heels but high hells - she looked around. Something had changed in her absence. At first, she didn’t know what. Donna? No, Monica was still alone.
Then she realized that one of the doors was ajar. Earlier, she had pulled at the doorknob and checked if it was locked. Now, she saw a staircase that led down.
Monica raised the arms, clenched her fists and stumbled towards the stairs.
Time passed slowly. Donna was at the mercy of the man who had suspended her. All she could do was wait and to suck cock and balls.
Halfway down the stairwell, they could hear voices from the lower levels.
"Shhh!", the woman hissed and stopped on her step.
Ann took a deep breath, but before she could cry for help, the woman jerked at the leash. Pain exploded in Ann’s nipples.
"Calm down. I've a plan. Maybe, it will work."
Accompanied by steps, the voices came closer. Two men. Both drunk.
The woman and Ann looked down the stairwell und saw two mid-thirties’. Maybe drinking-buddies or colleagues. When the first of them saw the women, he flinched. His hand – wearing a silver wedding band - reached/searched for the banister.
"‘Haarp!,“ Ann begged. “Iffff ‘u’hh!”
"What are you two gals celebrating?", the man asked.
His buddy(?) had stopped too.
"What does it look like?" the woman asked back, seemingly relaxing.
"Looks for me like an orgy", the other man said. His glassy stare scanned Ann’s naked and bound body.
“Who are you?”, asked the man with wedding band.
"I'm Abby Huntsman and this muted lady is Nylana, my personal yet very disobedient assistant”, the woman explained.
They looked the type of men who tried to pick up women after a few drinks. But this answer and the confrontation with pure female sexuality unsettled them.
"She … doesn’t look like a lady.”
“Nor did she behave very ladylike. That’s why I had to tie, gag and clamp her.”
"Mhhhh! ‘Eee’e! ‘Efff’ee!“
"It looks like your assistant wants to say something."
The woman stayed cool. “That’s the way Nylana likes it. Our role-play fulfils her personal kidnap fantasy. You know, what would turn her on? If one of you rescues her.”
“No. Thanks. I do not want to … … … intrude your little role-play.”
“Mnnfff! ‘effff! ‘elfff!”
“That’s a shame. Nylana could need someone like you. You know – a knight in shining armor.”
Both men grinned.
With resignation, Ann accepted the fact that no one understood her pleas for help. She moved her tongue and tried to push the ball out of her mouth, but the safety buckle was stronger.
"See? She’s doing it again. She definitely wants to speak!”
"Do you want me to ungag her?", the woman asked.
Ann nodded. But the man in front of her shook his head and said: "She looks great the way she is."
The other man leaned over and stared on Ann’s hips and the chastity belt.
"Did you shove a dildo in your slave's cunt?", he asked.
The woman sighed. "No. Nylana inserted the dildo herself. Besides - never, never, never! use the word "cunt". That’s so misogynic. "
For a while, there was silence. Then, the woman said: “You both look like you want to touch Nylana."
"C'mon guys. You know that I'm right.”
Helplessly, Ann had to endure four hands grabbing her boobs and buns. One hand reached beneath the chastity belt, spreddled the labia and forced the dildo deeper into her.
"Her pussy lips are reddened and swollen."
"Sex. Between two women. Yes, that’s possible in the year 2020.”
"Did you fuck your assistant with a strap-on dildo?"
"Is there any other way for a woman?"
"No. Of course not. My mistake."
The women let the two men and Ann play together for another minute, then she pulled at the leash.
“Sorry guys, we have to leave. Some very rich men are waiting for A…Nylana. She will be sold at a slave auction to the highest bidder.”
The married man said “Sorry, L'yanah. My buddy and me, we are broke. Otherwise, we would’ve rescued you. By the way: Does the tradition still say, that the rescued princess has to marry her savior?”
“Not tonight, guys.”
“’efff! Eann a’ag’eh!”
The men watched while the two women continued their walk. It for difficult for Ann to manage the stairs on platform heels.
When they were out of earshot, the woman whispered: “These two are too drunk to remember any details. They haven’t seen your face and I'm wearing sunglasses. When they wake up tomorrow, our encounter will just be a topic for locker room talk. And don't worry: I haven't forgotten that you called for help. We will add more restrictive safety measures during our trip.”
In the middle of the garden, they stopped next to a small patch of crop plant. Unlike the rest of the property, it looked well-kept. Due to the dark, Steph couldn't see which kind of plants were grown.
"I told you what to do", the man said.
A breeze blew through the tall grass and the branches of a row of elms. It cooled Stephanie's skin. What, if she teared the chain out of her captors hand and ran? Steph did not know this area, but maybe she could hide until dawn. Duck and cover.
But for now, she would lull the man in security of security and do as told. Stephanie kneeled down. The pain in the soles of her bruised feet eased.
Like a she-dog, Stephanie had to lift one leg and aim for one of the plants. The leafs towered high enough to tickle Steph's buttocks. She relaxed and heard the sound of urine, dripping on the ground.
Without having met any other drunk men, Ann and her captor entered at the subterranean garage, which was located beneath the apartment-tower. Ann's Toyota HSD parked in a slot close to the entry, but the woman forced the leashed Ann to follow her into the rearmost area of the garage.
Surveillance cameras were bolted to the ceiling, but a year ago, the facility management had given tenants the choice to cancel the camera service or accept an increase in rent of 2 %. A small price for freedom.
Ann cursed her stupidity.
Then she saw a black limousine, she had never noticed before.
The woman said: "I borrowed your electronic key. You don't mind, do you?"
Both women got to the limousine and the woman opened the trunk. It was covered with blankets and provided enough space for a prisoner. Ann saw that chains had been attached to screw-locked karabiners.
Of course, Ann blocked at first, but the threat of a Taser in her back let her rethink. The trunk lid was made of metal. While being transported away, she would kick it with her shoes.
Hopefully a passerby or the police would notice.
The woman helped her to lie down in the trunk.
"That was the difficult part."
The blankets scratched at Ann's legs and nipples.
Little by little, she was wrapped up with chains until her mobility was reduced to feeble twitches. The woman took special care that her feet were secured to the trunk's bottom. Kicking was out of the question.
"You must feel like in a Tarantino movie", the woman said. "You know, the trunk shot."
Ann looked up to her tormentress.
"Unfortunately, you will no longer be able to see any of his movies. But I will show you porn. Bondage, power play, women, submitting to their mistresses. It will inspire you."
The woman pouted. "I would love to fuck you. But your girls are waiting for you."
Before she closed the trunk, the woman said, "I want you to act in an appropriate way while I'm driving. No peeing, shitting, squirting or drooling. Okay?"
Then the world turned black.
When the man helped Steph up, she took the risk. Stephanie tore at the chain and it slipped out of the man's hand. She targeted with the arm spreader for his head, but missed. Then she ran towards the elms.
Steph didn't get far. The chain got tangled around her legs, tied them up and she fell on the ground. Numb pain flooded the front of her body. Stephanie moaned. Her mouth was filled with dust and dirt.
When she turned her head to the side, she saw the man's shoes.
"That was a stupid idea, don't you think?"
"'Aff 'ich 'eeng! "
"I knew you still had a lot of rebellious spirit in you. But this escape attempt shows how wrong you are in assessing the situation. The good news are: It can be corrected. But I'm afraid that your training has just been extended by six months."
Six m...? Steph refused to think about it.
The man's hands reached under Stephanie's shoulders, put one hand on each breast and helped her to get up.
Another breeze blew through the tall grass. Steph felt cold urine on her thighs and lower legs.
At the end of the stairs, a straight corridor led deeper into the basement. The walls were made of concrete. Light bulbs (energy-saving model) hung from the ceiling and bathed everything in cold light. There were three doors on corridors' the right side, all of which were open.
Monica's thoughts revolved about running back, up to the ground floor.
"It's a trap," she whispered.
Then she heard the groan. A woman's voice? It came from one of the rooms.
Again a groan.
With clenched fists, Monica walked through the first door. The room in which she stood had the size of 4 x 5 meters. No furniture. Instead, it seemed to be a photo gallery. Metal-framed black and white photographs hung on the walls. The right wall also showed some color photographs
Even though Donna was not in the room, Monica took a view on the gallery. The highly aesthetic photos attracted her attention. They were the kind of photographs, she would've expected to be taken by a professional photographer. But Monica had no doubt that they had been shot in a private place. All of them showed women, each woman in bondage.
The bodies were always naked or at least partially undressed. In some pictures, the women wore ridiculously high heels, similar to Monica's. On others pictures, they wore fetish-like uniforms. Monica saw schoolgirls with very short skirts and unbuttoned blouses (without a bra) who were sitting at a vintage school desk, tied to a chair. Another schoolgirl lay manacled on the teacher's desk. There was a nurse who was restrained to a gyno chair. She was given an enema. However, most of the women were naked. All of them had a gag in their mouth. Ball gags, panel gags, ring gags. A policewoman in a ripped uniform lay on the floor, in a very strict hog tie and cleave gagged. The facial expressions of the women varied between fury, resignation or frustration. Some looked into the camera, other refused or closed their eyes.
Monica recognized some of their faces. They were former colleagues. Cat burglars. One photo showed Beth Cox, a boyish blonde who allegedly retired from the business a year ago. Now, her hair was longer. She was naked, ball tied and ball gagged. Her vagina was stuffed with a dildo.
Monica shuddered with sheer horror when she realized what had happened to her colleagues.
Slowly, she turned around slowly and walked towards the opposite wall. Then she saw Donna.
The chains restricted most of Ann's movement, but each time, the car drove across an uneven piece of road, it shook her body. The dildo in her vagina started to rub her and soon Ann was covered in sweat. Could the bitch not drive on any streets without potholes, speed bumps and tight corners? The bolero strait jacket prevent Ann from clinging onto something. She screamed into her gag. The sex toy was merciless.
When the man and Stephanie finally got to the house, the woman's feet felt like minced meat. The man had taken several detours and had kept his prisoner on the middle of the gravel path. At least, walking slowly had reduced the pain.
Twelve color photographs. Unlike the framed pictures with the involuntary bondage models, these ones stuck at the wall via duct tape. They didn't show any naked women ... at least not all of them. On one photo, Donna strolled about a pedestrian zone in broad daylight. The second photo was of her on the beach. She wore a bikini that could hardly tame her curves. According to the hairstyle, the photo had been taken last summer. Donna did not look into the camera and for Monica it seemed that she hadn't been aware of the photographer. The last picture showed Donna in her room. She still lived in her parents' house. The photograph had been taken in through the window. By a drone? Donna was standing in front of the mirror, putting on a bra, showing a glimpse on her large nipples.
Ann was shown on the next three photos. The first showed her in daily routine, sitting in front of a cafe, drinking coffee and talking to a man who had turned his back to the camera. Then she stood in front of her Toyota Hybrid, in a little black dress and matching shoes and seemed to be greeted by a different man. In the third picture, she was lying naked on a gyno chair in a doctor's office, her legs spread wide, the shaved pubic examined by the doctor's speculum. The photo didn't look like a pornographic shoot, but rather as if someone had attached a hidden camera in a treatment room.
Monica wondered who was capable of doing something like this.
Steph in the university. Steph doing sports. Steph in the sauna.
Trembling from anger, Monica looked at the last three pictures. She remembered all these moments. The first one had been taken last year. That day she had waited for her boyfriend at the train station, platform 19. Sneakers, knee-length skirt, tube top. In the second picture, she was wearing a swimsuit and taking a shower in the lido. Monica forced herself to look to the last picture. It showed her in the apartment of her ex-boyfriend. She was lying on his bed, eyes closed. Most parts of the man were pixelated, but Monica saw his penis touching her labia.
So the three burglars and Ann had been watched for a long time. Every second of that night had been planned. A video game. Like Stephanie's algorithms.
Again, Monica heard a woman's groan.
"Donna - we have to leave."
"Why so sweaty? Did you do some exercises?"
"Don't worry, that's okay for me. From now on, I'll keep you 24/7 in strict bondage. Move your body, as long as you can."
"Let me help you out."
Two strong hands reached under Ann's legs and her back and lifted her out of the trunk. She and her abductress were standing in an unkempt garden. It was too dark to see details, but Ann knew this property from photos. A few hours ago, Donna, Monica and Stephanie had broken in here. Well, actually just Monica and Donna.
This all had been a trap. But why?
Ann looked down on her exposed breasts and the chastity-belt-covered labia. She thought of her hair removal.
What was the market value for three, maybe four beautiful female slaves?
No. She hadn't seen Steph on the surveillance videos. There was still hope.
"Follow me", the woman said and pulled at the chain. The pain from the alligator clamps forced Ann to follow. She looked around. Ann knew that a high wall surrounded the area. As long as her arms stuck in this damn bolero strait jacket, there was no way to ...
The woman's spike heels and Ann's platform heels scrunched on gravel. The mansion on the middle of the property came closer. Ann kept looking around for a way to escape.
"Okay. That's it."
The woman stopped. Her left hand reached beneath her suit jacket. Next, steely fingers sank into the soft tissue of Ann's bosom.
To intensify her prisoner's suffering, she attached lead balls from the size of a ball gag at the alligator clamps.
Monica tore the last three photos off the wall, put them in her mouth and chewed. After a few seconds, they turned into mush and chemical taste. She spat the paper-mâcheé on the floor.
Back in the basement's corridor, she saw the two remaining doors waiting for her. After the gallery of horror, Monica wasn't sure if it was a good idea to keep looking after Donna.
But then she heard some kind of "Mmmhhhh". A woman's gag talk?
Reluctantly, Monica walked towards the next door, cursing the man who had forced her to wear those shoes. It was impossible to sneak. If this was (another) trap, they knew that Monica was coming.
Punching to the right and to the left, Monica jumped into the next room. Her fists hit air. The only person she saw was Donna. Her naked body was dangling down from the ceiling.
"Oh my God."
Thick ropes restrained Donna's arms and legs. Wrists and elbows were tied together behind her back. Her knees and ankles were bound, too. Additional rope connected the feet to the hands. The woman's body was a piece of art, made of skin, hemp, tensed muscles and the superiority of bondage over movement.
"Wait. I'll help you."
Monica stepped next to the suspended woman. She saw that a black panel, secured by a buckle at the back of her head, covered Donna's mouth and chin. Her cheeks were bulging and the eyes reddened.
The rope shackles ran to up the ceiling, through a metal ring, then back to the floor and ended in a hand-driven winch.
"Hold still. I'm trying to ungag you."
The buckle was easy to handle, but when Monica tried to pull the gag out of her colleague, something kept it in place. Monica pulled harder and saw that Donna was moving her tongue. Finally, the gag slipped through the mouth.
During the last few years, Monica had read several dark romance novels, so she knew about gags. For her as a woman it was the most degrading type of sex toy. Women were talkative. For centuries, men had suppressed this basic need. Now, that they were free, toxic masculinity was looking for new ways to suppress them.
But in none of her books, Monica had ever read about a gag like this: From in inside of the panel, a 4'' dildo had stuck into Donna's mouth, along with two red balls, attached to small chains.
A penis and two balls. Many objects for one mouth.
"Thanks." Donna whispered.
Steph stuck to the parquet. Some of the abrasions and punctures were still bleeding. She had left dark footprints on the ground. Heels, soles and toes.
Her captor had chained her to one of the radiators. A short chain. She stood right next to the wall. The windows were out of her reach.
As if the man hadn’t considered this …
He was sitting on a chair. His fingers moved on the smartphones’ screen.
Stephanie looked over her shoulder. She knew this place from the CCTV. An entrance area with six doors and a staircase, which led to the first floor. She could peek into the kitchen. Donna’s chair stood in front of the granite countertop.
“We have to wait" the man said. “Monica and her busty friend are still in the suspension room. Soon, they will've seen everything.”
Stephanie took a deep breath and yelled through the bit gag: "‘eefff! ‘ung! ‘ef’ehhh!"
The man stood up and walked towards her. One of his hands fondled her breasts while the other held the smartphone
“If you want, we can watch Monica and Donna.”
The screen switched to the CCTV. Steph’s eyes widened in horror.
The ropes were tight but eventually, Monica managed to open the first knot. She knelt next to her naked colleague, who was lying on the floor. The heels of Monica’s shoes dug into her buttocks.
"Can you turn to the side?"
Donna nodded. She had an exhausted expression on her face and red imprints from the gag’s panel on her chin and cheeks.
While Monica kept unknotting, she asked: "How long have you been suspended?"
“I don't know. Felt like hours. After you had passed out, the man came back and chloroformed me. When I woke up, I was in this room, bound and gagged. At first, he kept me blindfolded. I could feel his hands on my body. Then he said it would be more thrilling if I had to watch.”
“How does he look like?"
"Older guy. Maybe 50. Grey hair, brown eyes. Tall. Self-assured. Angst-inducing”
Hesitatingly Monica asked: “Did he harm you?”
"You mean besides the bondage and the fingering?" Donna blushed. "He gave me an enema."
“An enema? Perv!"
“It must’ve been a whole gallon. I had to empty myself into a bucket but my belly still feels swollen.”
Monica decided not to mention the photos in the gallery.
"Please untie me.”
"I’m trying, but this is complicated. Reminds me of Kinbaku."
“It reminds you of what?!”
Monica loosened another rope, wrapped around the bosom. She had never thought about her colleague's breast size, but now she saw that Donna was a D-size. Maybe DD.
Chapter 53-1 (Ann)
Eventually, Ann and her tormentress arrived at the house in the center of the property. At this point, Ann no longer knew what was causing more pain: Her shoes or the bosom clamps
“Try to act like a good slave”, the woman said and knocked at the door. A few seconds later, it was opened.
Ann stood in front of the man who had hired her and her cat burglars.
“Great. You’re here.” He returned the captive’s glare, then gazed on her boobs, hips and legs. “Sexy.”
If her arms hadn’t stuck in the straitjacket, Ann would’ve beaten the smile off his face. But she was still at her tormentress mercy and afraid of what would’ve followed.
The woman kissed the man on the cheek and entered the house, forcing her prisoner with her. The man closed the door behind her and locked it.
Steph stood in the room’s corner. She was bare ass naked. Her arms and her neck were lodged in a metal arm spreader and a bit had been wedged between her teeth. Like Ann, she was drooling.
"Aren't they cute when they try to talk?", the woman chuckled. Then she took her high heels off and sighed in relief. “Way better.”
“You could’ve worn sneakers”, the man said.
“Yes, but I hate if my captives are taller than me and Ann has to get used to those ridiculously high plateau shoes.”
Ann had no doubt that the man enjoyed the sight of a woman whose feet were forced into shoes like hers.
He said: “She looks a little bit like the hotter version of a Spice Girl, don’t you think?”
“No.” The woman shook her head. “The 90’s are over. For me, she looks like white trash.”
Ann looked down to the ground and saw bloody footprints. So, Steph had been tortured, too.
“Did she cause any problems?”
“No. Everything went as planned. At first, Ann was a little bit restive but after a few enemas she calmed down and let me fuck her.”
Ann knew that Stephanie was looking at her. Secretly, she was glad that she wore the hood. She didn't want anyone to see her bald head.
Chapter 53-2 (Dale)
Dale liked what he saw. The leader of the cat burglars was in tight bondage, with exposed boobs and no chance to escape. What he bothered with was the hood, which covered the whole face except for the hate-filled eyes. Dale’s slave girls had always to show their hair.
But neither was Ann his slave, nor his business
He turned to Stephanie and said: “You need a new name. A new life requires a new name, don’t you think?”
Steph refused to answer and looked at her restraint buddy.
“From now on, you’ll be called “Z”. Just. One. Letter. In case that you are not gagged, you will refer to yourself in the third person and use your new name. Do you understand?”
Eventually, she nodded.
Meanwhile, Ann had been leashed to another radiator. Dale’s partner in crime came over to him and said: “You shouldn’t let Z get away with this kind of disobedient behavior. If she were my slave, I would give her a good caning to teach her manners. 10 strokes on the bare feet and 10 additional strokes on her cunt."
Z shuddered with sheer horror.
Dale said: “I will take care of her tomorrow. It has been a long day, I’m tired and I don’t want to talk about it. Anyway, how is your sex life?”
“I fucked Ann several times and it helped me to relax.”
Looking on his smartphone, Dale said: “We’re almost done here. Monica and Donna are about to enter the sex dungeon.”
“I mean it”, the woman said. “You could reduce stress and fuck Z.”
“That’s not what she’s for. You know the plan. The blonde is the breeder, the busty one is for pleasure and the IT girl for training.”
Chapter 53-3 (Steph)
The woman, who had Ann brought with her, didn't give up. "I can help you if you want," she said.
Steph hated the way the two abductors talked about her and Ann. Neither would she allow them to train her, nor would she ever accept a name like “Z”. She scanned the room’s wall for the hidden surveillance cameras. Even if she couldn’t see them, Stephanie knew that she was filmed.
One man, three women, two of them nude and in bondage. This was porn.
Suddenly, the abductress walked towards the man, kneeled in front of him and unzipped his pants.
“You need to keep a cool head. And if you refuse to do what's necessary, you leave me no option.”
His erected manhood pointed right to her face.
Steph couldn’t stop herself from looking at the creepy couple.
The abductress slipped a condom over the penis (where did she get this from?) and started to suck cock.
"Once again – could you please explain to me why we have to do this?"
“I told you about the photos. Maybe someone needs our help."
Monica and Donna cautiously sneaked towards the corridor’s last door. For Donna, who was barefoot, this was easier than for Monica.
"It's cold," said Donna. Her nipples had erected.
Close to the door, the cat burglars stopped.
"One of us has to go first."
"I know. Maybe you?"
“My hands still feel numb. I think that's because of the tight bondage."
Monica looked at her colleague’s wrists and saw red rope marks on pale skin. Of course, she knew that Donna was lying. But she needed to know what was waiting for her in the final room. More photographs?
Taking a deep breath, Monica stepped through the door and found herself in a deserted room. She saw bars and plank beds.
"Come in. There’s nobody in here."
Donna sneaked into the sex dungeon.
The dungeon was larger than the photo gallery, but divided by several prison cells. One side of each cell was a concrete wall, while three other sides consisted of metal bars. The cells’ doors were open.
The interior of each cells was identical: A plank bed with a rubber mattress, a female urinal made of ceramic and a metal object that protruded from the wall side. At first, Monica did not recognize the shape but when she stepped closer …
“Are those dicks?”
The metal imitation of an erected penis. Large one. In two cells, water dripped from the hole in the glans.
The penises were attached at waist height. Monica wondered if they were faucets, fucking devices or enema nozzles.
"That's sick," Donna said.
The four prison cells only took one half of the dungeon. The toys were in the other half.
Monica already knew the gyno chair from one of the gallery’s photographs. The bound nurse. Next to the chair stood a wooden sawhorse, a bondage stool and some kind of woman-sized metal frame.
Donna had entered one of the cells and looked down on the plank bed. After Monica had followed her, she saw a small paper square on the rubber mattress.
Yes. That was definitely her face. Monica's view scanned through the dungeon and saw more photographs. Donna was lying in the cell next to her.
The sound of Monica’s high heels echoed through the room when she ran into a third cell. There she was. Her face staring at her.
She and Donna looked at each other through the bars.
"This dungeon is waiting for us."
At that moment, they heard some kind of electrical humming.
"Consummatum est." Dale watched the scene in the dungeon via his smartphone
His partner in crime was standing on the doorstep, smoking a cigarette. When she heard his voice, she threw the cigarette butt on the ground and came back into the house.
"They finally made it?", she asked.
"See for yourself."
The smartphones’ screen showed Monica and Donna, fighting against the bars. There was no sound but they could see them screaming.
Dale looked at the two naked and manacled women who stood by the radiators. Ann stared on the floor. She knew that she had been defeated.
"Shall I open the valves? The Carfentanil will sedate them."
"No. We should give Donna and Monica a moment. It will be more fun if we let them wait."
"Help! Please! Let us go! ”Monica voice was hoarse.
Donna kept kicking until her toes hit metal. She cried out in pain and slumped down on the mattress.
Monica stared at the bondage devices in the other half of the dungeon. She saw herself lying on the gyno chair, fully exposed and getting an enema.
Again, she aimed for the bars and when her shoe met the metal, she heard a crack. The heel was broken off.
"Do you think they watch us?" Donna asked.
“Of course someone is watching. We are women, we are naked and we’re incarcerated. This is the situation, men’s dreams are made of. Maybe they stream everything on the internet.”
Even if Monica didn’t see any surveillance cameras, she looked up and screamed: “Help!”
In the end, Monica and Donna sat on the plank beds and rubbed their aching feet.
That was when fog poured into the dungeon.
"The night is darkest before the dawn. I promise you dawn is coming,” Dale said
"Was that a quote?," the woman scoffed.
The sky was still black, covered with stars. Though tired, Dale and the woman had climbed at the roof of the house to witness the dawn. They were holding hands.
During the last few hours, they had dealt with their prisoners. Donna and Ann were locked in two cells, wearing nothing but bolero straitjackets and very uncomfortable high heels. Both of them were ring gagged. The last time Dale had checked via smartphone, Donna had kneeled in front of the metal penis in her cell and licked water from the glans.
Monica was strapped to the gyno chair, spread eagle. A 2.5‘‘ ball gag was wedged between her teeth. She was blindfolded. The enema had exhausted her.
Steph was locked into the training room. She was naked and chained. Her ass was on fire from the last caning.
Dale asked: "Do you really think that we will change something, Lizzy?"
The woman thought about it and said: "Yes. If we can teach Ann, Z, Donna and Monica that they misbehaved, we will make a difference.”
Dale saw the woman’s breath in the chilling air.
“For every burglar we catch, a new one pops up."
“Then we'll abduct and train them, too.”
But Dale shook his head. “I've been doing this for two decades. Don’t get me wrong, this is fun. But maybe we should try something new."
"What do you mean?"
“One of us should become a politician. Maybe we can pass a law that …” Dale sighed. “I mean, look across the border: Their President is a radioactive mutant."
The woman looked surprised. “You want to legalize our training? I’m not sure if everybody will accept this."
“There are always objections. But in the year 2020 and nothing is impossible."
Instead of answering, the woman lit a cigarette. Dale thought of Monica and felt his penis harden. He thought of paying her a visit to fuck her. She was the breeder. He imagined her, lying on her back, sweat covered and screaming, on the verge of exhaustion.
The woman looked up to the stars and inhaled the smoke from her cigarette.
She said: "But it's a nice night, huh?"
"Yeah. This is nice. "