Author's Note: Sarah goes for a modeling gig, but is soon captured and tormented. Inspired by a classic Insex scene.

This story is a little different than some of my others. This is something of a novelization of a classic video that caught my eye from the geniuses at Insex. It is my best attempt to capture, in story form, the contents of the scene. I'll try to include a link to the video at the end (not sure if that's frowned upon). Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Sarah hurried along the street. She was running late. Her agent had texted her just a few hours ago, there was a modelling gig and the girl they had booked failed to show up. If she could make it to the shoot by two then the job was hers.

With so little time to get ready, she did up her makeup and picked out her best outfit - she wanted to make a good first impression, this could be her ticket to a lot more work in the future. Unfortunately, in her mad dash to get out of the house she had forgotten her phone. Luckily she had memorized the address because she didn't have time to go back. Her destination was only a mile away from her apartment anyway, though it was in a part of the neighborhood that she tended to avoid.

She arrived at the address with mere moments to spare and looked at the building with concern. "This can't be right," she thought to herself as she surveyed the nondescript rundown brick building located on a street populated with warehouses and empty lots. "I don't know where else it might be though."

She cursed herself for forgetting her phone. She wanted to call her agent to confirm the location, or at the very least double check the address she had sent her. Something didn't feel right about this place. But she set aside her concern and pushed her way through the filthy glass door at the front of the building. The directory inside seemed to indicate that most of the suites were unoccupied, except for one: Intersec Interactive Inc., third floor.

"That must be it," she said and stepped into the elevator. As the doors closed she caught her reflection in the dingy metal. She looked hot. She wore a sleeveless burgundy top, its muted polyester sheen contrasted nicely with her long, dark hair. Her black miniskirt came down to mid-thigh, hugging her hips and concealing the tops of her thigh high black stockings. She thought, perhaps, that wearing a garter belt and stockings to a photo shoot might be a bit much, but she didn't care. She loved the way they looked on her. And besides the photographer probably had something for her to change into anyway.

The elevator opened in front of a small desk manned by a terribly bored looking blonde woman who seemed annoyed by Sarah's arrival. Sarah walked up to the desk, her black high heels clicking loudly on the tiled floor.

"Hi," Sarah said. "I'm hoping this is the right place, my agent only gave me an address, no name. I'm here for the shoot."

The woman at the desk looked her up and down, her eyes lingering just a little bit too long on Sarah's tits. She brushed her blonde curls out of her eyes and gave her a dopey grin. "You'll do," she said.

The receptionist stood up to lead Sarah back into the office, as she did so Sarah furrowed her brow. Now that the woman was standing up she could see that she was wearing a tight black unitard that ended at her thighs. The act of standing up nearly caused her large tits to spill out from behind the stretchy fabric. "Could that be a wrestling singlet?" Sarah thought to herself. When she looked down and saw the flat-bottomed sneakers on the woman's feet she convinced herself that it was. How bizarre. The woman moved close to Sarah as if she was sizing her up. Sarah was about an inch taller, but only because of her high heels. The buxom blonde easily had thirty pounds on her. The woman lurched over to the door behind her desk and unlocked it. Sarah resisted the urge to comment on the woman's unusual attire and followed her through the door and into the adjoining room.

"P. D.," the woman shouted. "The girl's here!"

Sarah walked into the unfurnished room, trying to avoid stepping on any of the old coffee stains scattered about the carpet. A door on the opposite side of the room creaked open and an older man stepped through. He wore a black t-shirt and cargo pants. "This must be P.D.," Sarah thought, a little disappointed that the guy in charge wasn't some sort of chic and sophisticated artist. He looked like he got his boots out of the discount bin at Walmart.

P.D. approached her and took her hand. His cold, gray eyes surveyed her body in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. Sarah's creep detector was screaming at her to get out of there, but she needed this job. Who knows how long it'd be until the next opportunity came along.

P.D. released her hand and walked a circle around her. "Very nice," he commented. "What is your name?"

"Sarah," she said, her voice betraying her nervousness.

"Hello, Sarah. Such a pretty name. I'm P.D. I'll be running your session today," he said, then turned to his blonde associate. "Cuff her, Sybil."

"Wha-," Sarah began, then she felt a hand grip her shoulder. Instinctively she ducked her torso and twisted out of the woman's grasp, then darted towards the door, but Sybil was quickly after her. She stuck out a foot and sent Sarah tumbling to the floor. P.D. watched from the side as the struggle ensued. Sarah's legs flailed helplessly, her skirt riding up and revealing her skimpy black thong panties. Despite her best efforts, Sybil was simply too big and too strong. She pinned Sarah to the floor, breathing heavily as she produced a pair of metal handcuffs. She bent Sarah's arms behind her back and locked them in place.

"That's better. Isn't it?" Sybil remarked playfully. She flipped Sarah over onto her back, resting her weight on her victim's stomach. She leaned over and gave Sarah a big sloppy kiss, while the woman struggled to regain her breath. In the tussle Sybil's tits had popped out of her tight outfit, she leaned over Sarah now and buried Sarah's face is her fleshy breasts.

Once she was done playing with the frightened woman she turned around and applied another set of metal cuffs around Sarah's slender stockinged ankles. Sarah wriggled and pleaded to be let go, but she was going nowhere. P.D. tossed a leather bag to Sybil. She caught it and slipped it over Sarah's head, casting her into darkness. A metal chain ran through a series of rings along the bottom of the sack. Sybil pulled the chain, drawing the bag tight around Sarah's neck. She then locked the end of the chain to Sarah's handcuffs.

"I'll take it from here," P.D. said. "You go prep the studio."

Sarah felt P.D. rough hands as he grabbed her ankles and pulled then towards her butt. He linked the chain of her ankle cuffs to the one on her wrist cuffs. Sarah was now trapped in a hogtie. P.D. let her go and stepped out of the room for a moment. Sarah, alone now, wriggled about on the floor in an attempt to escape, but it was hopeless. She was bound too tight and firmly under the control of her captors.

P.D. returned a minute later pushing a small cart. He heaved Sarah up onto it and rolled her out the door. When she heard the 'ding' of the elevator Sarah resumed crying out for help. The leather sack on her head did little to mute her pleas, but P.D. merely laughed off her attempt.

"Go ahead and call out for help, honey," he said. "There's nobody that's going to save you."

Sarah sobbed into the stifling leather, her hot breath mixing with her fear sweat made her face clammy. The elevator descended several floors, to what Sarah thought might be the basement. P.D. wheeled her out onto the floor and dumped unceremoniously off of the cart.


Chapter 2

Blind and held in place by her restraints, Sarah didn't know what to expect next. She waited anxiously while she heard equipment being moved about, and she thought she heard the click-clack of someone typing at a computer. After about fifteen minutes she heard a loud beep.

"Okay, we're live," she heard P.D. say.

"She's a cute one," a monotone voice chirped from a speaker.

"I like her outfit," the voice added a second later.

"I bet she's a screamer," the commentary continued. "I'd like to see you punish her feet. I wonder what her tits look like under that blouse."

The voice droned on and on. Sarah didn't know what it was, but she didn't like the discussion one bit. After several minutes P.D. interrupted the conversation, "Can we turn down the chat? Let's get started."

The volume of the monotone voice was lowered. Sarah felt P.D.'s heavy footsteps approach, she moaned in fear as P.D. rolled her from her side onto her stomach. His hands roamed her body, sliding gently, almost tenderly, down her thighs, brushing against her arms, caressing her back. Sarah's trepidation grew. She held still, hoping this would all end. Maybe this was just a bad dream, or an elaborate prank. She didn't want to accept that this was really happening.

She felt something rough brush past her arm. P.D. was threading a rope around her elbows. He twisted it around and around, occasionally pulling the rope up around her shoulders or under her armpit. He tugged and tied with the practiced precision of a master. With one final tug Sarah felt her elbows draw together until they touched. She groaned and arched her back to relieve the strain.

With her arms now immobilized, Sarah felt a tug as the chain attached to the bag over her head was unlocked from her cuffs. P.D. loosened the bag and pulled it free. Sarah winced against the sudden brightness of the room. She breathed in the cool, refreshing air as she took in her surroundings. Her eyes grew wide in fear.

"What is this? What are you going to do to me?" she asked fearfully as she looked about. Directly in front of her, pointed at her face, was a camera operated by Sybil. The smirking blonde alternated between close-ups of her face and long, slow pans across her bound and restrained body. Arrayed neatly behind Sybil was an assortment of whips, chains, canes, ropes, and gags, all neatly laid out and ready for use. Scattered about the room were various cages, boxes, racks, and chairs, each more menacing than the last.

Tucked away in a corner of the room was a computer, the source of the monotone voice. On the screen Sarah saw a video of herself, in what was obviously a live feed as captured by Sybil's camera. In a window next to the video Sarah could see the flurried scroll of the chat box, which fed its banter into the room.

"What am I going to do with you?" P.D. repeated back to Sarah. "Whatever I want. We're going to have some fun."

He tossed the leather bag away and ran his fingers through Sarah's tangled hair.

"Please, no," Sarah pleaded. "Let me go. Why are you doing this?"

"Tut, tut," P.D. said. "I'm not doing this for me. I'm doing it for the members. They want to see a good show and I'm going to give it to them."

Sarah continued pleading while P.D. worked her long black locks into a ponytail. "Such nice strong hair," he remarked out loud. Sarah cried out as he grabbed a firm hold of her ponytail and dragged her by it into the middle of the room. He then retrieved a length of rope and worked it into the ponytail, the opposite end he fed up into a block and pulley hanging from the exposed ceiling of the basement. Then he began hauling on the rope.

Sarah groaned as she felt her head wrenched up towards the ceiling. Still hogtied, there was nothing she could do to resist as her head was lifted higher and higher, arching her back until her chest came free of the floor.

"So, lovely. So, nice," P.D. commented as he tenderly stroked her face. He continued whispering sweet nothings into her ear as Sarah struggled under her new position. After a moment P.D. stepped back to allow his viewers to fully appreciate Sarah's discomfort. Sybil was quick to move in and capture her predicament from every angle. Sarah futilely twisted and turned, seeking relief from the stressful position.

After watching her suffer for a few minutes longer P.D. approached again carrying a spider gag. It was a simple metal ring with four little metal protrusions to help hold it in place, stretchy surgical tubing dangled from either side of the ring to be tied behind her head.

P.D. knelt down and gestured for her to open up. Sarah decided this was simply too much. They may have held her captive, but that didn't mean she had to be compliant. "No, I won't," she said through clenched teeth.

"She's not going to open up," P.D. remarked, almost pleased at the opportunity to assert his dominance. He leaned in and forced Sarah's mouth open with his fingers, then jammed the ring gag behind her teeth and tied it off behind her head.

"Perhaps you haven't yet recognized that I'm in charge here," P.D. said. "You do what I say. Maybe that hasn't occurred to you yet because you've been too comfortable."

P.D. reached up to the rope once more and began pulling on it. Sarah cried out from behind her gag as more and more of her weight lifted free from the ground and was supported by her hair tied into the rope. He paused once her hips no longer touched the ground. Sarah writhed against the strain on both her back and her hair.

"You're still a bit too noisy," he remarked and pulled out a red wad of cloth. He shoved it in through the open ring, packing her mouth full. Sarah tried to force the mass from her mouth with her tongue, but P.D. held it in place as he took a roll of black tape and wrapped it around and around her head, keeping this new addition to her gag firmly in place.

Next, a flash of steel caught Sarah's eyes as P.D. grabbed a large set of shears. She felt the cold metal press against her skin as he slid her blouse between the blades.

"Mmmph, mmmph," Sarah pleaded begging to avoid further indignity. P.D. ignored her pleas and had soon cut her top to shreds, pulling away chunks of clothes from beneath the tangle of ropes holding her arms.

"I love it when they're helpless like this. That grunting, it's such a nice sound," he commented.

Sarah squealed as the scissors slipped beneath her bra. With a few quick snips the last of the clothing covering her upper body had fallen away. Sarah flushed in embarrassment as the cool air of the room wafted across her nipples causing them to grow erect.

P.D. waited a moment, watching Sarah wriggle her topless body about, the strain of her weight pulling on her hair was growing evident on her face.

"Do you want to come down?" he asked. Sarah grunted in response, unable to articulate her reply nor even nod her head in assent.

"What do you say? Do you want to come down?" he repeated.

Sarah wriggled herself more, begging for relief.

"What are you going to do for me?" P.D. asked.

Sarah was befuddled. What more could this madman possibly want that he hadn't taken already? She looked at him quizzically.

"I've been paying so much attention to you, maybe you could pay a little attention to me?" he suggested and as he moved closer to Sarah on his knees, bringing his crotch even with Sarah's face. The implication was clear, Sarah stretched her head forward, straining against her bonds, pressing her face against his trousers. She moved her head side to side, rubbing his manhood with her nose. She could feel his cock stiffen beneath the fabric.

"Yeah, that's nice," P.D. encouraged her. "If you want to be let down then you've got to earn it."

After a minute P.D. pulled himself away and lowered the rope holding Sarah's hair. The relief was palpable as Sarah lowered her head and straightened her back. She sighed in relief.

"Is that better?" P.D. asked. "What do you say?"

"Mmmph, mmph," Sarah replied with a completely unintelligible 'thank you.'

"You're welcome," P.D. said as he reached down and gently caressed Sarah's exposed breasts, adjusting her nipples away from the cold, hard cement floor. "Why don't you take a little break for a minute while I get a few things ready."


Chapter 3

Some break, Sarah thought sardonically as she waited, hogtied, topless, and gagged, with her hair still roped to the ceiling (at least not as high up as before). Of course she couldn't relax as she watched P.D. gather the next few things he needed: another length of rope, his scissors, two leather straps, a narrow wooden cane, and a small, black leather flogger.

P.D. walked up beside her and unbuckled her black high heels, exposing her stockinged soles beneath. He lightly tickled and rubbed her feet, which were relieved to be free of her uncomfortable shoes.

"These metal cuffs are pretty serious - pretty severe, eh?" he said, making small talk as he worked.

Then Sarah squeaked in surprise as she felt P.D.'s strong hands grab onto her. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, setting her upright on her knees. There was enough slack in the rope attached to her hair that Sarah was able to sit back on her feet.

"Are those handcuffs too tight for you, baby?" he asked, noting the slightly darker shade of red in her hands. Sarah nodded. "Aw, poor girl. I've got something better for you."

He removed the handcuffs. Sarah flexed her hands as the blood rushed back in, her elbows remained bound together behind her back. P.D. retrieved another rope, then he pulled her right hand behind her left hip, and her left hand behind her right hip. He used the new rope to hold them in place, wrapping it around her torso several times to ensure that she couldn't pull them free. Sarah's hands were now immobilized. She wiggled her pretty red fingernails in an effort to keep the blood circulating through her tied wrists.

P.D. gently massaged Sarah's defenseless and exposed breasts, and fussed over the position of the ropes until they were just right. Then he picked up the shears again. He hauled on the ceiling rope, lifting Sarah from her seated position up onto her knees. Sarah pleaded through her gag to be spared from further indignity.

But P.D. was not to be dissuaded. His scissors made short work of her black skirt, leaving it in tatters on the floor. Sarah now kneeled before her captors and the viewing public in nothing but her stockings, garter belt, and black satin thong panties. Sarah flushed in embarrassment as the chat window on the computer in the corner came to life with rousing approval and various lewd remarks.

"Now what's next?" P.D. asked himself. He reached down and removed the cuffs holding Sarah's ankles together, then he grabbed the leather straps from his table. He took her left ankle and bent it up until it touched the back of her left thigh, then he secured it with one of the straps. As he reached to do the same with her right ankle Sarah cried out in alarm. With her ankles strapped to her thighs, she was forced to balance up on her knees to avoid falling forwards or backwards and tugging on her hair.

P.D. chuckled at her predicament. "Do you see what you gotta do?" he asked. "See how perfectly you need to balance?"

While Sarah struggled, P.D. availed himself of her trembling body, gently nuzzling her face, caressing her breasts, and rubbing her pussy through the soft satin of her panties.

"You're all strung up like a delicious piece of meat," he remarked. "It's so much fun to see you suffer."

P.D. watched for a few minutes, indifferent to her struggles as she fought to maintain her balance on her knees. Then he picked up his scissors again. Sarah begged for him to stop. But, snip, snip, snip, and a few seconds later he had cut away her panties and the last defense of her modesty that she had remaining. Her bare, shaved pussy was now on display to the world. Sybil, with her camera, made sure to lean in close and capture every intimate detail.

"Now on to business," P.D. said as he picked up the wooden cane. Sarah looked on in fear. P.D. moved behind her, out of her line of sight.

Thwak! The cane crashed down on the soles of her feet, her stockings did nothing to lessen the blow. Sarah cried out in surprise and pain. Thwak! Thwak! P.D. struck again and again. Sarah tried to twist her feet out of the way, but P.D. merely grabbed ahold of her toes and struck her again.

"Mmph, mmph," Sarah pleaded into her gag, wincing with every strike.

P.D. paused and moved around front of Sarah. He rubbed his cane along her pussy, then began issuing a steady tattoo of light strikes on her cunt. Tap, tap, tap, tap. The blows were much lighter than those applied to her feet, but the steady application of the cane over and over to the same area soon grew excruciating. Sarah moaned and tried to squirm away, but P.D. persisted. At last, Sarah fell backwards, tugging hard on her scalp, but providing a small modicum of protection to her aching cunt.

"Get back up!" P.D. ordered. "Get back up!"

"Mm-mmph," Sarah cried, trying to say "I can't."

"Come on," P.D. said, pulling her back up onto her knees. He took a small amount of slack out of the rope holding her hair to the ceiling, enough to leave her struggling for balance, but depriving her the ability to escape his torment. "Be still," he warned, and then picked up his cane again.

Sarah trembled up on her knees, a fine sheen of sweat covered her body. P.D. resumed his steady tap, tap, tap of his cane on her pussy. Sarah cried out, unable to evade her captor's torment. P.D. ended his relentless battering with one final hard strike, square on her cunt. Sarah would have doubled over in pain, if she could have moved. Instead she howled into her gag and fought for breath as her pussy reeled in agony.

Next P.D. moved to her tits. He gave each tit three hard, sharp snaps of the cane that left Sarah crying and begging for mercy. Then he paused to let Sarah gather herself.

"Ok, here's the deal," P.D. said. "We've got this here." He began tapping his cane repeatedly between her legs once more. "This is the cunt. Lemme hear you say it."

"Unn," Sarah said through her gag, fighting back the pain.

"Louder!" P.D. ordered, increasing the intensity of his blows.

"Unn!" Sarah screamed.

"This is tit. Say it," he commanded, punctuating his statement with a strike across her breasts.

"Ihh!" Sarah called out, feeling the sting on her chest.

"And this is feet," he said with a hard snap atop her soles.

"Eeh," Sarah sobbed.

"Loud!" P.D. threatened, raising the cane again.

"Eeh!" she called.

"Cunt, tit, feet," he repeated. "Now, you tell me where you want me to hit you."

"Mmmph, mmph," Sarah begged, wanting this punishment to end.

"Fine, we'll start with the cunt," he said. "And when you want to change you tell me where to go."

He began drumming a steady beat on her aching cunt. Sarah wriggled helplessly, absorbing every impact. After only a few seconds she'd had enough.

"Eeh!" she cried out.

"You want me to hit your feet?" P.D. asked, never stopping his steady tap, tap, tap on her pussy.

"Eeh, mmph, mmph," she begged.

P.D. sidled around behind her. Thwak! Thwak! Two hard strikes, one on each foot quickly changed Sarah's mind.

"Ihh! Ihh!" she begged.

"Tit?" P.D. asked. Sarah eagerly agreed.

P.D. moved around front of her again and laid into her tits with several fresh cane strokes. Sarah cried out in pain, trying to decide which of her three horrible choices was the least worst.

"Unn," she sobbed.

"You want the cunt?" P.D. inquired. "Say it loud."

"Unn! Unn!" she pleaded. It was unbelievable that she was begging this man to further abuse her pussy.

P.D. happily obliged. They continued for several more rounds, the marks accumulated across Sarah's chest, between her legs, and on her aching feet. P.D. seemed to take any blow which didn't follow with a request for something else as a personal challenge to him to strike harder.

After one particularly hard strike across her soles Sarah lost it and became a blubbering mess. "Mmmph mmph mmph," she cried unintelligible to all.

"What's that? You want me to hit your tits?" P.D. asked.

Sarah begged for him to stop. "Alright, I'll keep going on your feet," he replied. Sarah shrieked as he laid into her feet some more.

Finally, Sybil interrupted their little game. "We have a request from a member to use the flogger," she said.

"Oh, that's an interesting idea," P.D. agreed.

He strolled over to the table and set down his cane. He picked up the flogger, the long black leather strips swung delicately as he playfully showed Sarah his new toy. Before he gave her a more intimate introduction, though, he decided for the sake of his audience to remove the wad of red cloth packed into her mouth so that she could better articulate where she wanted to be punished. He unwound the black tape from her head and pulled the saliva-soaked rag free from behind her ring gag.

"Alright, here we go," P.D. announced. He snapped the flogger down across her soles.

"Ohhh!" Sarah cried out, feeling the sting of this new punishment.

"What was that?" P.D. asked playfully.

"Fee," Sarah said behind her gag, slightly more able to communicate with the rag gone.

"That's right." He walked around front of her and laid into her cunt with the flogger. He swung again and again and again.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" Sarah shouted, grunting with every blow. The leather slapped hard into her pussy, the tendrils of the whip wrapping up between her legs, landing on sensitive flesh. Sarah wallowed in the stinging pain.

"Easier than the cane, eh?" P.D. remarked. Sarah didn't know if she meant easier for him or for her, but she certainly wasn't inclined to agree. Finally she could take no more.

"Ihh! Ihh!" she called out.

"You want your tits?" he asked. Sarah quickly agreed.

"Okay," he replied. This time he was determined to make her regret her choice right from the start. He pulled the flogger back far and swung as hard as he could across her chest. The loud 'slap' filled the room. Before Sarah could even react he wound up and swung again, just as hard. Then again.

Sarah cried out in pain and quickly directed him to punish her feet. P.D. complied, but after only a few sharp snaps across her delicate feet Sarah once more became a blubbering mess.

Sensing that his game had achieved its intended effect, and that further rounds would not be attended by a victim that was 'all there'. P.D. dropped his flogger and declared to his audience, "I think that she's had enough."

Though several in the chat were eager to see P.D. keep going, he reached up and loosened the rope from the block in the ceiling. Sarah fell back to the ground, sat on her knees and sobbed.


Chapter 4

Sarah sat quietly on the floor for several minutes slowly gathering herself. She listened to the plaudits come in commending P.D. for a stellar performance thus far. But her anxiety rose again as she also heard the suggestions for what he ought to do next.

For his part, P.D. had taken the rest period as an opportunity to take a seat, have a snack, and read through the viewer comments. Sarah eyed him hungrily from her place under the stage lights. He picked up a bottle of water.

"Are you thirsty?" he asked. Sarah nodded 'yes'. She wasn't sure how long she'd been here, but she hadn't had anything since breakfast.

P.D. lifted the bottle. Sarah tipped back her head and P.D. poured some liquid into her ring gagged mouth. Sarah dropped her head, coughing and sputtering, most of the water dribbling down her chest.

"Do you want it or not?" he asked impatiently.

"Ya," Sarah grunted in frustration.

"Well then tip your head back," he instructed.

Sarah complied, and despite the difficulty of swallowing while her mouth was propped open, she managed to swallow some.

"What do you say?" P.D. chimed in.

"Ank oo," Sarah replied, genuinely grateful for this small act of kindness. As she humbly lowered her head, P.D. took a big swig of the water bottle and then spit it all over her.

Sarah recoiled in shock and humiliation. P.D. took another swig and did it again. She defiantly turned away. This was all too much, she thought as the water dripped down her body. She wanted to jump up and slap him. To yell and scream, and kick her feet. But bound and gagged as she was, she was helpless to resist. Then, in the one childish act of defiance that she was capable of, she stuck her tongue out at P.D. through her gag.

"Oh, really," P.D. said amused. "You stick your tongue out at me? That's a challenge... Perhaps you have misunderstood our relationship."

He grabbed ahold of the rope dangling from the block on the ceiling. "Maybe I'll suspend you from your hair, after all," he remarked.

Sarah squealed in surprise as P.D. hauled on the rope. She felt herself lifted up onto her knees once more. But P.D. did not stop there. "You ready?" he asked as he dragged on the rope.

"Mmmph, mmmph," Sarah cried out as she felt her knees lift free from the ground. She could feel the intense strain as her hair tugged at her scalp. P.D. counted to five as Sarah slowly twisted in a circle, paralyzed by pain and fear. Her bound legs twisted and wriggled, straining to touch the ground that was just beyond reach. Finally, P.D. relented, lowering her back to her knees. Sarah gasped and coughed, grateful to touch the ground again.

"You still want to stick your tongue out at me?" he asked. Sarah vigorously shook her head 'no'. "I don't know if you've learned your lesson. I bet you can go for longer than that."

Sarah pleaded for forgiveness, but P.D. hauled on the rope again. Sarah felt herself leave the ground again. She rasped in pain as her hair tore at her scalp. Viewers marvelled at the tightness of the muscles in her neck as it supported the rest of her bodyweight. P.D. gave her ass a soft kick to send her swinging. Sarah gasped for breath, the pull of her weight on her neck made breathing difficult. Her face grew red. A sheen of sweat covered her body. Then, just when her vision began to fade, P.D. dumped her to the floor and untied her hair from the rope.

Sarah had learned an important lesson about defying her captors.


Chapter 5

Sarah was dumped in the corner while P.D. prepared his next scene. He dragged a large wooden box from the corner of the room until it was under the bright lights in the middle. Sarah thought the box seemed heavier than it ought to be, given how hard he had to push. While P.D. adjusted furniture and gathered his new supplies, Sybil came over and cut free Sarah's stockings and garters, the last remaining vestiges of clothing that she had arrived at the studio in. Her ankles were still belted to her thighs and her elbows bound together behind her back with her wrists tied down to her sides. Her chest was, by now, slathered in drool due to the ring gag that still propped open her mouth.

P.D. finally finished his preparations and he hefted Sarah up on top of the box. She sat kneeling, with her butt resting back on her ankles. The chatroom comments tittered with excitement while Sybil took her camera and made a slow pan from Sarah's knees to her face, lingering on her tits so that the viewers could fully appreciate the welts that the cane had left behind.

Now P.D. approached carrying a black inflatable gag. With her mouth still propped open by the ring gag, Sarah had no ability nor desire to resist as P.D. shoved it behind her teeth and began squeezing the inflator bulb. The gag grew and grew. P.D. kept squeezing. The gag soon filled the entirety of her mouth. Sarah coughed and choked as the gag reached the back of her mouth and triggered her gag reflex. At that point P.D. deflated the gag ever so slightly, leaving Sarah's mouth uncomfortably full, and leaving Sarah on the verge of choking.

"Did you enjoy your break?" P.D. teased. "Have a good rest?"

Sarah ignored his comments and instead focused in on the large inflatable dildo in his hands. She was surprised that to this point her pussy been spared any penetration, her captors instead focused on hurting and tormenting her, but apparently her reprieve had ended. Sarah had lost the will to resist by now and accepted her fate as P.D. rubbed her pussy with lube. She groaned as she felt the rubber intruder slide into her slippery cunt. Then P.D. began inflating the dildo. She squealed and twisted as the dildo grew larger and larger. Sarah thought she would burst! Finally P.D. dropped the bulb, leaving the dildo firmly lodged in Sarah's aching and stretched hole.

Whistling a happy time, P.D. returned to his supplies and found a clear plastic bag. As he turned towards her, Sarah panicked when he pulled the crinkly plastic over head. "This is it!" she thought frantically. "He's going to kill me!"

She grew more animated as P.D. tied a leather cord around her throat, sealing off what little fresh air she could get from the gap between the bag and her neck. She wriggled about and grunted into her gag.

"Listen to me!" P.D. ordered over her mania. "Now you're going to get four strokes of the cane, and then you're going to get air. I'm going to control when you get air, not you. Do you understand?"

"Mmmph, mmmph," Sarah agreed, feeling her hot breath collecting in the stifling plastic bag.

P.D. picked up his cane. Sarah watched fearfully, the plastic bag puffing in and out with each recycled breath. She could feel her face growing flushed and she was getting light-headed.

Thwak! P.D. brought his cane down hard over the top of her left thigh. Sarah cried out in anguish. "One!" P.D. called out and then paused, letting Sarah savor the pain. Thwak! "Two!" He paused again. Thwak! "Three!" Sarah felt like she might collapse. Snap! "Four!" The final and hardest stroke broke the cane over Sarah's thigh. P.D. tossed it aside and loosened the cord around Sarah's neck.

Sarah greedily sucked in fresh air from the gap between the bag and her chin. "Oh! Oh!" she cried out, her thighs stinging from the cane strikes. P.D. ran his hand up and down her leg, admiring his handiwork.

Before Sarah could fully recover herself though, P.D. quickly retied the cord around her neck and moved around to her other side. Thwak! One. The strike landed on her right thigh. He raised the cane and moved to strike again. Sarah flinched, but the cane didn't land. P.D. chuckled, then struck. Thwak! Two. He paused, waiting for Sarah to grow more desperate for air. Thwak! Three. This strike landed right atop the previous one. Sarah cried out louder. She wanted to twist away and fall to the floor, but she knew that P.D. would give her no reprieve until he had delivered his fourth stroke. P.D. raised the cane. Sarah's lungs burned. Thwak! The fourth blow landed.

Sarah breathed deeply in relief as P.D. again loosened the bag. This time he yanked it completely free from her head. He deflated the gag and pulled it out from her mouth. Sarah slumped in relief, seemingly grateful that her torturer's breath play was over. P.D. then reached back behind her head and undid the ring gag. Sarah flexed her aching jaw for the first time in hours. She started to renew her pleas for release but a sharp glare from P.D. warned her against speaking out of turn.

With the gag put away, P.D. picked up the plastic bag once more and moved to place it over Sarah's head. Sarah, realizing that this cruel torment was just getting started, began to sob.

"I'm really enjoying this," P.D. remarked as he retied the cord around Sarah's neck. "This is fabulous."

Sarah, of a decidedly different opinion on P.D.'s game, resigned herself to accept further abuse from a man who so clearly liked to see her suffer. She tried to calm herself and take shallow breaths to make her air last longer, but she could feel her pulse quicken as P.D. picked up his cane.

"Let's try the inner thigh this time," he suggested. "Count for me."

Thwak! Sarah felt her left thigh explode in pain. "Ah! One!" she called out.

Snap! "Two!"

Crack! "Ow, ow, ow! Three!"

"One more," P.D. warned. Sarah shuddered with pain, tears flowing from her eyes.

Thwak! "Four! Aye!"

P.D. loosened the bag. Sarah tried to steady herself. She took longer, slow breaths, trying to expel the stagnant air from her lungs. P.D. gave her a moment to get collected, he knew she was no good to him if she totally broke down.

"This time we're going to take a little more time between each one," he said as he again retied his cord about her neck.

Sarah watched fearfully through the bag, which was fogging up with her breath. Snap! The cane came down on her right thigh this time.

"One!" Sarah barked out through a grimace. P.D. paused, watching her suffer.

Crack! "Two!" she called, her chest heaving.

Thwak! "Three!" P.D. seemed to make each stroke harder than the last. He watched in amusement as she grew dizzy from lack of fresh air.

Thwak! "Four! Ow, ow, ow, ow," she sobbed. P.D. pulled the bag from her head and she gulped down the clean, cool air.

"A member has requested that we cane her across the tits," Sybil called out, reading from the chat window.

"Ok, we can try that," P.D. obliged. Sarah stared vacantly at a spot on the floor, her only relent from this torment was to retreat back inside herself.

"Do you want me to cane your tits?" P.D. asked, trying to keep her present and in the moment.

"No. Not really," she replied between sobs.

"Oh, she says she doesn't want to," P.D. said to the camera feigning concern.

"Not with the bag," Sarah added, looking wearily at the piece of plastic in P.D.'s hands.

"Not with the bag?" P.D. repeated innocently. "Why?"

"I need to catch my breath."

"You're doing really good," he opined. "You're doing so well, baby. We've got to have the bag. Will you take the bag?" he asked with a glimmer in his eye that seemed to warn Sarah that there was only one correct answer and that there would be consequences for choosing the wrong one.

Sarah meekly nodded her assent, her sobs growing in intensity.

"Yeah, that's a good girl," P.D. said warmly. He leaned over and tenderly nuzzled her tearstained face.

"She's starting to get there," he announced as he pulled the bag over her head again. "The transformation is under way."

Sarah clenched her fists as P.D. drew the cord tight around her neck then picked up his cane. Snap! He landed a stroke across her right tit.

"Ow! One!" she cried as P.D. moved around to her other side.

Snap! "Ah, ah! Two!" P.D. paced back to his starting position while Sarah's chest blossomed anew in pain, these new strokes adding a renewed agony to the fading pain of P.D.'s earlier punishment to her tits.

P.D. lined up his next strike on her right tit. Snap! "Three-ee!" Sarah felt herself growing feint.

"You breathe when I want you to," P.D. ordered, drawing her focus back to the conscious world. "You understand?"

"Okay," Sarah readily agreed.

Snap! "Four," Sarah said weakly. P.D. yanked the bag free from her head.

"Very good," P.D. remarked. "Now we'll try some without the bag." He recognized that her strength was fading and didn't want to press her too far. He wasn't nearly done with her yet.

"First we did it my way. Now we'll do it your way," he added. As if punishing her tits bag-free had been her idea of a good time.

P.D. took his cane and instead of the wild, heavy strokes he'd delivered before, he tapped repeatedly over and over with light strokes directly onto her left nipple.

"Oh! Oh!" Sarah tried to squirm away from the attack, but P.D. followed her, unrelenting. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

"Look how puckered it gets," he commented, regarding her nipple as it grew erect under the assault. Cybil zoomed in close.

Sarah steeled herself against the pain. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. P.D. took the opportunity given by her broken gaze to land a hard, sharp and unexpected strike on her left tit. Snap! Sarah's eyes shot open and she hunched forward in agony. P.D. sternly lifted her upright and walked around to her other side.

Tap, tap, tap, tap. The assault resumed on her right nipple this time. "Oh yeah, it makes it so sensitive, doesn't it?" he teased. Tears streamed down Sarah's face, smearing her makeup. Snap! Her right tit was treated to a hard strike.

"I noticed a couple places on the thigh that we didn't get to," P.D. remarked moving along, indifferent to her suffering. "It might be nice to do it without the bag. Let's see."

Tap, tap, tap, tap. He now drummed a steady beat on her right thigh. Then. Thwak! His cane crashed down. Sarah cried out in pain.

"What do you say?" P.D. asked her. Sarah looked at him, confused. "Where's your manners?" he enquired.

"Thank you," Sarah sniffled.

"Yeah," P.D. added, rubbing her shoulder gently. "It's not everybody I'd do something like this for."

Crack! Sarah reeled. P.D. looked at her expectedly.

"Thank you," she whimpered. "May I have another one?" she added at P.D.'s encouraging.

"Certainly." Snap! Sarah grimaced as the cane shattered across her right thigh. "Shit. Broke another," P.D. said, showing more concern for his equipment than the pained woman before him.

P.D. retrieved another cane from his stash. "What do you say?" he asked as he lined up his next strike.

Sarah blinked away her tears, looked him in the eye and said, "Thank you. May I have another one?"

P.D. swiftly raised his cane. Sarah squeezed her eyes closed in anticipation, but P.D. paused at the top of his swing. Sarah opened her eyes and gave him a small smirk at the fake out.

Thwak! "Oh!" Her left thigh exploded in pain. She thanked him and asked for another. Thwak! She bit her lip to stifle a scream, then asked for another. Thwak! P.D. readily obliged.


Chapter 6

After a while P.D. had decided that Sarah's thighs had been sufficiently caned. He removed the leather straps binding her ankles to her legs. Sarah stretched her aching legs out, dangling them over the side of the wooden box. Though she had to tip herself back a bit to avoid sitting on the inflatable dildo that still protruded obscenely from her cunt. P.D. leaned over and whispered sweet nothings into her ear, gently stroking her body while Sybil zoomed in close, panning over Sarah's body to catalog the accumulated damage she had sustained thus far.

Next P.D. went around behind Sarah and began to loosen the ropes holding her arms. She gratefully flexed her shoulders as her elbow tie was released. Then, after her wrists were freed from her hips she raised her hands to her chest and legs to survey the damage for herself.

Sarah was now completely unbound, but she knew she was nowhere near free. She realized that further resistance was futile, and perhaps hazardous to her health, so she waited patiently while P.D. prepared the next scene.

As she waited, Sybil dropped to the floor for a close-up of her feet. She zoomed in on Sarah's pretty red-painted toe nails. Sarah anxiously flexed her foot, her soles still ached from the earlier caning. She wasn't sure that she could rest any weight on them. Then her attention was stolen away from Sybil as P.D. approached carrying what looked like some sort of rigid metal boot.

He knelt down and slipped her right foot inside. The boot was shaped so that her toes were kept pointed down. There was a solid metal plate on the top side of her foot and a matching metal plate on the bottom, the plates met near her toes with metal on the sides, forming a crude wedge-shaped box around her foot. Rising up from the heel part was a metal cylinder that went just shy of her knee. It was split in half and hinged so that Sarah's leg could be fitted inside. P.D. carefully positioned her foot until it was just right, then he closed the cylinder around her calf and locked it, trapping her leg inside.

So far the boot merely held her foot pointed and immobile. Sarah tentatively lifted her leg, testing the weight of the boot. The thick plates of metal easily weighed ten pounds altogether.

Now that Sarah was satisfactorily hobbled, P.D. stood up and presented Sarah with a large, red ballgag. Sarah obediently opened up and P.D. strapped it in place. Next, he retrieved a length of rope and tied Sarah's wrists together in front of her. He took the excess length of rope and tossed it over the block overhead, to which he had earlier in the day bound her hair. He hauled on the rope and Sarah was lifted free from her sitting position. The wooden box was dragged out of the way and P.D. adjusted the rope so that Sarah's unfettered left foot could still support her weight up on tiptoe.

Sarah balanced gingerly with her arms stretched high overhead. She figured she could probably support her weight on her booted foot, but it might wedge her foot further into the metal plates surrounding it, so she contented herself with her precarious balance upon the toes of her left foot.

Unfortunately, she wasn't given the option to stay like that for long. P.D. pulled the rope a few inches more, yanking Sarah up from the ground. Her wrists bore most of her weight, but she was able to relieve some of the burden onto her booted leg, which still touched the floor. P.D. reached down and bent Sarah's left leg double and then fastened her ankle to her thigh with a leather strap, removing the prospect of relief from that leg.

"Why don't you stay like that for a while?" P.D. suggested, as if she had a choice.

Sybil moved in to capture her stretched body from every angle. Sarah wiggled gently back and forth, maintaining her balance on her pointed toes. She was ordered to turn, and she slowly pivoted, treating the viewers to every intimate detail of her trembling body.

After a few minutes of letting Sarah dangle like a caught fish, P.D. picked up his cane again and approached. Sarah tried to hide the fear on her face as he walked up behind her and began a steady tap, tap, tap on her exposed ass.

"Just a little warmup," he explained to the viewers.

Sarah bit down on her gag and waited for what would inevitably come next. P.D. did not disappoint. Thwak! He landed a hard stroke across Sarah's ass. She squealed into her gag, but was helpless to avoid the next strike. Thwak! Her backside erupted in pain at this next blow.

"Mmmph! Mmmph!" Sarah protested into her gag. P.D. gently rubbed her stinging ass, admiring his latest addition to her growing set of welts. He gave her a loving embrace, and nuzzled her gagged cheek. He kissed her up and down, playfully nibbling at her nipples. Sarah leaned into him, seeking comfort and he gave it to her.

Then he abruptly pulled away and lined up his next stroke on her lovely, round ass. Thwak! "Mmmm," Sarah swooned. P.D. put down his cane.

"Okay, let's get started," P.D. said.

"That was just the warm-up for this scene?" Sarah thought to herself as her ass pulsed with pain. She dreaded what would come next.

P.D. grabbed a plain wooden chair and set it down behind Sarah. He released the rope holding Sarah's wrists to the ceiling and then untied her. He guided her down to sit in the chair. Sarah gingerly eased herself down, sitting forward on the chair to avoid putting any weight on the dildo still wedged into her pussy. She groaned as her freshly caned ass made contact with the smooth wood. She quickly reached her hands to the side of the seat to help support her weight and lessen the pain on her bruised backside.

P.D. let her rest there for a minute while he retrieved what looked like a decidedly less comfortable chair for his victim. It wasn't so much a chair as it was a framework of black metal pipes in the rough shape of a chair. The back consisted of two parallel pipes rising vertically from the ground, joined together by a few shorter bars that were about a foot long. The seat was merely a bar jutting out from each upright bars at a forty five degree angle, making a wide V-shape. These bars were each supported by another bar serving as a front leg for the chair.

P.D. plopped his new chair down. "Come give me a hug, baby," he ordered.

The audio of the member's chat tittered with excitement at the possibilities as Sarah slowly raised herself to her feet. She grunted as she set her weight on her unfettered left foot. The caning earlier in the day made it painful to put any weight upon it. P.D. looked on impatiently as Sarah tentatively lifted the heavy metal boot and took a step towards him. The boot clanged down on the ground and Sarah swung her left foot forward, unwilling to trust her weight or her balance while standing on the toe of the boot. She took several careful, agonizing steps and practically fell into P.D.'s arms. He returned her warm embrace, running his hands up and down her back, massaging her aching ass. Then he guided her to the new chair.

Sarah sat with one leg on the outside of each bar of the seat, which kept her legs splayed wide, the inflator for her dildo swinging gently beneath her unsupported ass. She pulled her hands behind her back and gripped the vertical bars of the back of the chair while P.D. knelt down and strapped each thigh to the chair with a leather belt. He put more straps above her knees, around her waist holding her to the back of the chair, around her chest, and finally he strapped her elbows to the upright bars behind her. Then he removed the ball gag from her mouth.

Once she was bound in place, P.D. went and grabbed an allen wrench from his tool table, dropped down behind Sarah's booted foot, and inserted the wrench into a bolt on the back of the boot, which Sarah hadn't noticed before.

"Let's see what kind of a reaction we can get out of her," P.D. said to his members.

He began turned the wrench. Sarah shifted as she felt the bottom plate of the boot begin to move. Each turn of the wrench pressed it closer to the top plate, squeezing Sarah's foot in between the unyielding metal plates.

Sarah grimaced as P.D. explained. "It is pressing a plate up into her heel. It's slowly crushing her instep."

"Oooh," Sarah cried out, biting her lip as she felt the boot tighten.

"She's starting to make some faces already," P.D. added as he continued twisting the two plates closer together.

"Ow! No more, no more," Sarah begged.

"Alright," P.D. said. "We've got her at a certain point here. Now we're going to give her another quarter of a turn."

Sarah stared in horror, her face a mask of pain. P.D. twisted.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Sarah cried.

"We'll turn it a little more slowly now," P.D. declared. "Just a little bit every few seconds."

P.D. twisted the wrench in fits and starts. Each spin matched by an anguished cry from Sarah as her foot was slowly crushed further and further. Her chest heaved, she banged her head against the bars of the chair behind her. Finally P.D. stopped.

"Baby, you're the best," he remarked, genuinely impressed at her tolerance for pain. "You know what, I'm enjoying this so much that I'm going to give it one final turn. This is going to be a big one."

Sarah moaned her dismay as P.D. reached for the boot. "Here we go," he announced and twisted the wrench. Sarah's eyes bugged out of her head, she breathed in short, ragged breaths and screamed.

"Oh yeah, baby, that's hot!" he exclaimed. "We'll keep you like this for a couple more minutes." He paused. "Maybe one more turn. I can't help myself, I'm having so much fun."

Sarah screamed some more as P.D. indulged himself in more turns of the wrench.


Chapter 7

After more than the promised few minutes, P.D. eventually relented and removed the boot from Sarah's foot. Sybil made sure to zoom in close to capture the impressions that the metal left in her skin from the harsh, unyielding enclosure.

The boot was stowed away for now, but Sarah remained strapped to the chair made of bars; only now P.D. had added to the collection of straps binding her in place by adding one more leather belt around each of her ankles, holding them to the legs of the chair.

Sarah sighed in relief as the enormous dildo that had resided in her cunt for the better part of a couple hours was finally deflated and removed. Sybil panned in on Sarah's fleshy, gaping pussy as Sarah closed her eyes and relaxed a little. Her eyes soon shot open though, as she felt P.D. reach up from behind the chair and apply a gob of lube to her exposed asshole.

"No!" she gasped. P.D. ignored her protest as he slowly worked one, then two, fingers into her hot, tight hole, providing a color commentary to his viewers as he worked. After he had loosened her up he retrieved a buttplug and pressed it against her anus. "Push," he commanded.

"Oh, ow," Sarah cried. "You can't, it's too big!"

But P.D. persisted and managed to press the plug hard enough that her ass swallowed the bulbous middle section and held it in place. Sarah jumped in surprise as the huge plug sank in.

Next P.D. produced a small, black cylinder, about five inches long and one inch wide. Each end of the cylinder was capped with shiny metal, and a wire trailed out from one end. He easily slid the shaft up into her stretched out pussy. Sarah didn't like the looks of this. She gasped. "That's cold. Isn't it?" P.D. said. He took two more leather straps and ran them between her legs, one on either side of the buttplug and dildo, and fastened them to the leather strap running around her waist. He adjusted these straps so that neither implement would slide free during their next scene.

"That's great! The two monsters are in place," he joyfully declared. Sarah, for her part, was not so enthused.

Up next for Sarah was a broad leather collar. P.D. buckled it about as tight as he possibly could without completely cutting off her air supply. Sarah's face immediately began to turn red.

"I'm gonna have to secure her head back because I'm afraid that she might hurt herself when I turn on the electricity," P.D. decided.

Upon hearing the word 'electricity' Sarah's growing fears were confirmed. A knot grew in her stomach at the prospect of this maniac torturing her with electric shocks.

P.D. added one more leather strap, this time across her forehead, pulling it back so her head was held tightly against the tall back of the chair. Sarah took a deep breath and sighed, trying to remain calm.

Plodding right along, P.D. applied two more electric leads to Sarah's nipples using a device that looked like a small metal cup, with a tiny squeeze ball on the top to provide suction. But first he made certain to slather each nipple with conductive gel to ensure an optimal contact area for the electricity.

P.D. connected the wires dangling from Sarah to two small black boxes, one for the wire in her pussy and one for the wires on her tits. He gave the pussy probe a quick test with his remote control. Sarah jumped in her bonds and cried out.

He then connected the tit probe and gave it a test. "Oh! Dammit!" Sarah hollered as she jumped even harder than for the first jolt.

"I think she didn't like that," P.D. remarked. "Did you hear that? She looked at me angrily, too. That's not cool."

He gave her a few more shocks on her tits to reward her defiance. Sarah shrieked in turn.

"Ok, so we know the tit probe is the monster," he said. He leaned forward and gave her a deep, passionate kiss. Sarah, to her surprise, found herself readily returning the kiss. This man was capable of cultivating such intense emotions, Sarah's mind swirled with hate and fury. And lust? She was so confused.

P.D. was drawn away from his victim as a debate broke out among the members in the chat. Some insisted that applying a current across a person's heart could cause it to defibrillate and stop. P.D., master of his field, set the record straight, insisting that the unit was designed to stimulate the nerves and not deliver any damaging current to vital organs. Sarah listened anxiously as P.D. described in detail exactly how it would work. Needless to say, she wasn't feeling much better about her situation after P.D.'s explanation.

Coming back now to the task at hand, P.D. explained that they would now be conducting the interview portion of the show. Sarah would be taking questions from the members. She was to speak loudly and clearly repeat each question and then quickly provide her answer. P.D. was ready to dispense shocks whenever he thought she was answering too slowly, or dishonestly, or, really, whenever he felt like it.

"The first question," P.D. asked. "How many members are in the chat?"

Sarah hesitated. She had no clue about how many depraved perverts were watching her suffer right now.

"You know what happens if you're wrong," he threatened, lifting the controller.

"I- I don't know," Sarah stammered. Zap! She received a hard shock to her tits. She jumped against her bonds and cried out.

"Answer the question!" P.D. demanded. Zap! He shocked her cunt.

"Ow! Ow!" Sarah screamed, shaking from the assault. "I don't know. Forty-six? I have no fucking idea!"

Zap! Zap! Zap! P.D. opened up on her. Sarah screamed and thrashed in electric agony.

"Did you just swear?" he asked angrily.

"Yeah," Sarah panted. "It's an unfair question."

"Who decides what's fair?"

"You do," she replied through gritted teeth.

Zap!

"I think you should speak more nicely to me," he suggested. "None of this swearing or showing your teeth. Now, who's in charge here?"

"You are," she said, swallowing her anger.

"That's master to you," P.D. added.

"You are in charge, master," she said submissively.

"The answer was a hundred and three," Sybil chimed in.

Zap! Sarah was punished for her wrong answer, her tits bouncing along with the surge of electricity into the probes.

Now the interrogation began in earnest. Sarah was peppered with questions, some deeply personal, some inane, and some intended to encourage P.D. to punish her. She was savagely punished by him after she admitted to being a smoker. Later when asked if she'd ever done drugs her hesitation resulted in additional severe shocks as she considered lying to avoid punishment. Of course, when she did end up admitting to smoking pot she was duly punished.

The questions went on and on. Sarah could feel herself growing frazzled. She'd often forget to repeat the question and was zapped with electricity to remind her. As the punishments accumulated she'd start speaking too quietly, an infraction that P.D. quickly rectified. Her eyes were soon filled with tears.

"I have one final question," P.D. finally said. "What part of you are we going to punish next?"

The question itself caused Sarah to sob a little harder. After all the abuse that she'd suffered, still he was not done with her. She thought about everything that'd been done to her so far, she had felt the touch of the cane on her feet, her tits, her cunt, and the fronts of her thighs. She'd had her foot mashed in that awful boot. And she'd had her pussy and tits lit up with electricity. The only fleshy area spared the cane thus far was the backs of her thighs, and her ass which had only taken a few strokes. She ventured that as a guess. Fortunately, and also unfortunately, she was right.

"Before we move on though," P.D. said. "I've got one more little torture in mind for her. Let's test her limits."

Sarah drooped in despair as P.D. removed the nipple probes. He took a swig of his water bottle and spit the contents all over her body, leaving her skin dripping wet. He picked up a ring gag and told her to open wide, there would be no questions for this part - only screaming.

Now P.D. grabbed a short, copper wand that was about a foot long and plugged it into his electric control box. Sarah trembled with fear.

P.D. took the tip of the wand and gently traced a path across Sarah's chest.

"Ah! Ah!" Sarah screamed. It felt like a hot, sharp knife had been drawn across her skin. Her breath came in short ragged bursts. Her legs quivered.

P.D. then glided his wand over each tit, and then across her navel, eliciting more screams. Sarah stared, helpless to move her head, as he brushed the wand across her chin, under her nose, over her cheeks. She was beginning to hyperventilate. He teased her thighs, her pussy, her ass. Then he retraced each path again.

Sarah sobbed uncontrollably. Her body was awash in pain. Every touch of the wand was as harsh as the last.

"Here comes a good one," P.D. announced. "Zoom in close."

Sybil shoved her camera right in Sarah's face. P.D. leaned in and touched his wand to the metal ring of Sarah's gag.

"Ahhh!" Sarah screamed. This pain was more intense than anything before it. It felt like her whole mouth was vibrating, spots flashed in her vision, every neuron in her brain lit up in agony. Just as she was about to pass out from the pain, P.D. pulled the wand away and tossed it on the ground.

"That was great," he enthused. "You were wonderful. I think this calls for a reward."

He quickly removed the gag and the collar. He removed some of the especially biting leather straps, leaving enough to keep her fastened to the chair. He wiped away her tears.

P.D. picked up another wand-shaped object and Sarah feared the worst. He knelt down between her legs and slipped the electric probe from her cunt. Then he switched on his new toy. To Sarah's immediate relief, she realized it was a vibrator. He mashed the item against her pussy and Sarah swooned at the pleasant sensation.

"Oh, oh," Sarah called out. After so much pain, the pleasure hit her like sunlight into a dark room when the shade is pulled up. She squirmed in her restraints as P.D. rubbed the vibrator up and down her cunt.

"You don't cum without permission," P.D. warned. "Got it?"

"Oh, yes! Yes!" Sarah cried, throwing her head back.

P.D. reached up his free hand and wiggled the buttplug buried in her ass. He pulled it partway out and slid it back in. Sarah's ecstasy reached new heights. Aa good as P.D. was at inflicting pain, he was equally as skilled at giving pleasure. Sarah could feel herself losing control. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the sensations. Her moans filled the room. She couldn't hold back any longer.

"Please, master," she pleaded. "May I cum?"

"Yes, you may," P.D. answered. He mashed the vibrator into her clit and slipped the buttplug completely from her ass. Sarah was sent over the edge as the most powerful orgasm of her life came crashing in. She bucked and pulled at her restraints, testing their strength. P.D. now used his free hand to finger her cunt while the vibrator continued its work. With a few final spasms she collapsed into her bonds, exhausted.

Sarah came back down to Earth as the member chat erupted in cheers. Her face flushed in embarrassment. She was humiliated to realize just how easily her captors could manipulate her. She had gone from resisting their every move to begging to cum in just a few short hours.

P.D. smiled and put away his toys. He had promised Sarah one last punishment.


Chapter 8

Sarah had been freed of her bondage and the chair had been dragged away. In its place now sat a cage made out of metal bars. It was about two feet on each side and three feet tall. Sarah stood on the outside of the cage, leaning over the top. She wore no restraints. She didn't need any. She knew her place and did as she was told.

She tightened her white-knuckled grip on the bars of the cage as P.D. walked behind her wielding his cane. He took several practice swings, waiting for Sarah to lower her guard, then... Thwack! He laid a strike hard across Sarah's ass. Her backside exploded in pain. She nearly released her grip so she could massage her stinging rear, but she resisted the impulse. Thwack! Thwack! Two more strikes landed in quick succession. Sarah cried out.

He waited for her to regain her composure. Thwack! The cane cut across the backs of her thighs. He gave her thighs two more strikes before finally breaking his cane on a fourth. He discarded the broken implement and picked up his flogger. He swung it teasingly in her direction. She could feel the breeze as the long leather strips swished through the air.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! P.D. swung the flogger in a figure eight pattern centered on her ass. Left cheek, right cheek, left cheek, right cheek. He delivered her the stinging kiss of the leather strands. Her ass soon began to glow a light red.

He paused to admire the heat radiating off of her battered backside then began anew, harder this time. Slap! Left. Slap! Right. Slap! Left. Slap! Right. The intensity grew with each swing. Sarah bit her lip to keep from crying out. Sybil zoomed in on her tired and agonized face. Slap, slap, slap. P.D. kept up his rhythm. He picked up a second flogger to wield in his other hand so that he could double the rate. Sarah slouched over the cage but continued to obediently present her ass for more punishment. P.D. paused once more.

Then.. snap! He swung as hard as he could. Sarah was thrown against the heavy metal of the cage and cried out, "Oh!"

Snap! Another hard one. "Oh!" Snap! "Oh!" Snap! "Oh!"

He paused to run his hand gently over her flaming, dimpled ass. Then he resumed the figure eight pattern. Slap, slap, slap, slap. Tears ran freely down Sarah's face. She wasn't sure how much more she could take.

Snap! Snap! Snap! Three more hard blows left her reeling. She heard P.D. toss his floggers to the ground.

"Thank you, sir," she sobbed.

P.D. spun her around and wrapped her in a warm embrace. She sobbed into his shoulder as he tenderly rubbed her burning, battered ass.

Then he bent her down and put her in the cage.


Chapter 9

Sarah swayed gently within the cage. She sat with her legs pressed up against her chest and her chin resting on her knees. It was hard to find a position to rest her weight that didn't put pressure on some place that had felt P.D.'s harsh touch.

Once she had been safely locked away, P.D. had attached a rope to the top of the cage and hoisted it high up to the ceiling. The lights were turned out and the computers powered down. P.D. and Sybil left.

Sarah sat in the quiet flickering glow of the LEDs from the server as it broadcast her pain and humiliation far and wide across the internet. She wondered what was next for her. Would she ever be let go? Would they come back and start anew with her once she'd had a chance to recover? Would she be left here, forgotten and alone?

A shuffling sound from down below interrupted her thoughts. "Oh, Sarah," a voiced whispered. "I'm so sorry!"

Sarah squinted to see where the sound was coming from. She saw movement. A couple fingers reached out from the wooden box up against the wall. She now recognized the voice.

"Tatiana? Is that you?" she asked.

"Yes! What did they do to you?" Tatiana answered. "It sounded so awful!"

Tatiana! Her agent! The one who had instructed her to come to this shoot earlier in the day. Sarah didn't see her get put into the box. She must have been in there the whole time! Even as Sarah kneeled upon the box, having her breath smothered by a plastic bag and her legs caned, Tatiana had sat silently underneath.

"I'm so sorry," Tatiana repeated. "They kidnapped me a couple days ago. They made me tell them about everyone I know. They made me send that text message to you this morning. They told me they'd hurt me if I didn't."

Three loud bangs rang out on the door to the room. Both girls fell silent. Clearly someone had heard them chatting and didn't approve. Neither girl, wisely, wanted to test the patience of whoever it was.

They sat there in silent darkness, waiting for what the new day would bring.