Part 3
“This is definitely my least favorite part of the job,” Cherri said with a grimace as she picked up the bucket, the weight of our collective waste making her grunt. The smell was nauseating, a foul odor that clung to the air as she opened the van’s door, the sun’s harsh light spilling in.
From what I’d seen when Cherri had stood me up to do my business, we were in the middle of a vast desert, the kind you’d only ever see in post-apocalyptic movies. The sun was a blistering orb in the sky, casting a relentless heat that made the metal van feel like an oven now that she had shut off the van.
The last eighteen hours had been a blur of fear, pain, and degradation. The van had become our hell on wheels, my limbs were growing numb from being bound so tightly for so long and not even doing stretches like Bunny suggested could alleviate the ache anymore. My stomach was in knots, a mix of hunger and fear from the constant jostling from the bumpy ride. In a short amount of time since we’d stopped, the van had grown thick with heat that had invaded every inch of the metal cage we were in, making my skin sticky with sweat that had no place to go.
Looking at Bunny and Lacie I couldn’t help being a little envious of their nudity, at least they weren’t in an outfit that consisted mostly of latex and leather. “How much longer do you think it'll be?" I whispered trying to cut through the silence that had descended upon us.
“Could be hours, could be days,” Bunny said, her eyes never leaving the horizon as she leaned forward. “But I think I can see some mountains off to the right. That’s gotta mean we’re getting close to getting out of this desert at least.”
“This is tort-“ I closed my mouth as the driver’s side door opened and Cherri got in, slamming it shut behind her. She had her phone to her ear, speaking in irritated tones as she slid keys into the Ignition and started the van up again.
“Relax, we’re only a couple hours out,” she must have had her phone on speaker the other day because, hard as I tried, I couldn’t make out what was being said on the other line, just the muffled sound of a man’s voice. “Look, I’d have been back half a day ago if Lydia hadn’t detoured me. Trips go a lot faster when I have time to properly plot routes around law enforcement hotspots and checkpoints… alright I gotta go, the signal’s dropping.” She ended the call with a sigh and turned to us with a smirk, “You bitches ready for this trip to be over?”
The van's AC kicked back on and the cold air hit my overheated skin with a blast of relief. I let out a sigh, the coolness washing over me like a wave of calm. I looked over at Bunny and Lacie, both of them visibly relaxing as well. Their naked bodies gleamed with a sheen of sweat that the AC was already starting to dry.
I took the moment to once more do some much-needed arm stretching, the muscles in my shoulders screaming in protest as I tried to work out a nasty kink from having my elbows bound behind my back for so long. The leather armbinder that kept my arms in a tight, bent position was a constant pressure and even years of intense yoga couldn’t have prepared me for this kind of extended discomfort. With each stretch, I felt a twinge of pain that radiated through my shoulders, down my spine, and into my neck, but the feeling of bones popping and blood rushing back into my tingling fingers was worth it.
“Eww I heard that, just how long have you been in that thing?” Bunny whispered, her eyes flicking to the armbinder with a mix of curiosity and concern.
“Too long,” I murmured, flexing my fingers, trying to get the blood flowing again. The pain was intense, but the feeling of my muscles stretching and the blood returning was oddly satisfying.
“Yeah, well, you only have your former owner to thank for that particular discomfort,” Cherri said, apparently having overheard us, her voice dripping with amusement as she watched me stretch my cramped limbs. “Now sit still, we’re almost there,” she barked, slapping the steering wheel for emphasis.
I couldn’t help but think of Jason at the mention of my former master, my heart aching at the thought of him. Arrested for something he had no part in, all because he’d been with me at the wrong place at the wrong time. The poor guy had been used as a pawn in David’s twisted game of power and control, and now he was likely rotting in a jail cell, fear and confusion swirling in his mind as he tried to piece together what had happened.
‘To top it all off he’d probably get blamed for my disappearance too’, I thought bitterly, as I worked out the last of the kinks in my arms. The image of him in a cramped cell, unsure of his fate, was almost too much to bear. The only thing worse than my current situation was knowing that I had unwittingly dragged him into this mess. He’d trusted me, and what had I done? Led him straight to a nightmare that he had no idea existed.
The van hit a particularly deep pothole in the road, jarring me out of my thoughts, sending a shockwave of pain through my already abused body. The leather dug into my skin, the metal rings of my cuffs biting into my wrists and ankles. I looked up and spotted trees flying by outside the tinted windows. I don’t know how long I’d been wallowing in my own guilt and despair, but apparently it’d been long enough to leave the desert behind.
I craned my neck upwards to get a better look, peeking over the edge of the window. The landscape outside was a blur of green and brown, the occasional cactus having given way to actual trees. It was a noticeable change from the barren wasteland we’d been traveling through. The road eventually began to climb, winding its way up into the mountains that had been a distant speck on the horizon not too long ago.
The trees grew denser, the foliage thick and lush, a pleasant difference to the sparse vegetation of the desert we had just left behind. The van’s engine whined as it took the steep inclines, the gear changes jolting us in our binds as we climbed higher and higher. The roads began winding sharply, the mountain pass twisting and turning with a breathtaking beauty that only served to highlight the horror of our predicament.
Through the windows, the landscape unfolded like a green tapestry, valleys stretching out below us like the wrinkled fabric of an ancient quilt. The occasional glimpse of a road snaking through the hills made me think of a serpent, slithering its way through the countryside, unseen but ever-present. The sun was dropping, casting long shadows across the landscape that danced and shifted as we climbed.
Suddenly the van took a sharp turn, the tires screeching as we skirted along the edge of a cliff. My stomach lurched, the fear of plummeting to our deaths momentarily overriding the fear of the unknown that waited for us. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was it, if the van was going to give up and we’d all be dashed on the rocks below. But the road evened out, the tires finding purchase again, and the sickening feeling in my stomach subsided.
“Jeez, someone should get that huge boulder off the road,” Cherri said, her voice a mix of irritation and bravado as she slowed the van down. I looked out the windshield and saw a massive rock that had tumbled down from the cliff face above, blocking a good portion of the road behind us.
Eventually my neck grew sore from straining to see over the lip of the window, and I reluctantly sat back down, my gaze shifting to the floor of the van then back up to Cherri who was hyper focused on the winding road ahead. The tension in the air was thick and suffocating like the heat from our time in the desert.
Another twenty minutes passed by and eventually I felt the van turn off the road we were on and start to descend. The engine’s pitch grew higher as we descended, the gears shifting as the road grew steeper. The van took the turn with surprising grace, despite its bulky frame and Cherri’s lack of care for the speed limit signs we’d been ignoring for hours.
Despite the reclusiveness of the road I had to note just how well maintained it was. It was paved, smooth and winding, carving a serpentine path down the mountain like a ribbon of black against the verdant backdrop. It was clear that whoever funded these mountain roads had a vested interest in keeping them pristine, and it sent a shiver down my spine to think of the kind of person or organization that would be capable of such a feat in such a secluded place.
With my neck feeling better I once again found myself looking out the window just as Cherri turned onto a narrow, winding road that snaked into the heart of a valley. The sun was dipping low in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the landscape. At the bottom, nestled among the trees, was a sprawling structure that could only be described as a resort. It was quickly swallowed back up by the thick foliage as the road dipped and turned, but I caught enough of a glimpse to know that we were approaching our final destination.
“Sit down, slave!” The bark of Cherri’s voice made me jump, and I hastily sat back down, my heart racing. I had been so lost in thought that I hadn’t noticed her eyes flick to the rearview mirror, catching me peeking out the window again.
It wasn’t long before I spotted a large pair of heavy-duty gates from where I sat, my heart racing at the sight of our imminent arrival. They stood tall, a formidable barrier of steel and iron, flanked by thick stone pillars that looked like they had been standing guard for centuries. The gates were closed, and Cherri rolled down her window as she pulled up to them.
Leaning out her window, I heard a beep as Cherri pressed a button on an intercom. A cold, mechanical voice responded, “Identify yourself and state your business.”
“It’s me, Cherri. Open up, I’ve got more auction items for the gala and let Mrs. Fox know I’ve arrived.” Cherri spoke into the intercom, her voice laced with an authority that seemed almost out of place amidst the serene surroundings.
The gates groaned open, revealing a long, well-manicured driveway that led to the ‘the resort’ as Lacie had put it. “Access granted, please drive-“
“-To bay three building five, yeah, yeah I know,” Cherri interrupted, rolling her eyes as she put the van back into gear. She steered us through the gates, which closed shut with an ominous finality behind us.
Just like it had been the entire trip I couldn’t see much from my place on the floor, but I did manage to get a glimpse of the main building before we turned away from it. It looked opulent and grand from what I could see, the entrance alone was more impressive than any hotel I’d ever stepped foot in. The van continued on, moving away from the main building and eventually came to a stop in front of a large unassuming structure with a large rolling door with the number three painted on it.
We hadn’t been idling for more than a minute when the garage door began to rise, revealing a dimly lit ceiling beyond. I was about to strain my neck to get a better look when I caught Cherri’s eyes on me through the rearview mirror. With a smug smirk she said, “Don’t bother, you’re about to see plenty of it soon enough,” and with that she shifted the van into drive and we lurched forward.
Leaning back, I tried to calm my racing heart as the garage door closed behind us, plunging us into darkness. The van rolled to a stop, and I could feel Cherri’s eyes on us in the rearview mirror, her smugness palpable. The engine cut off, and Cherri opened her door, letting in a burst of cooler air that smelled faintly of pine and earth.
Her door slammed shut and a moment later the familiar hydraulic whirr of the van’s ramp lowering filled the air. The sound echoed off the garage walls, the metal groaning in protest as it hit the ground with a thud. The side door of the van slid open, and the dome light flicked on, illuminating the darkness with a dim glow.
Cherri’s boots clicked against the ramp as she strutted into the van, her eyes sweeping over us with a cold, assessing gaze. Satisfied we hadn’t moved she turned and grabbed a clipboard from the passenger seat before heading back out. My heart racing, I looked to Bunny and Lacie, their expressions a mirror to the dread that filled me.
Suddenly a ding sounded somewhere in the large garage and was followed by the hurried clicks and clacks of a pair of high heels approaching the van. I gulped knowing this was it, our fate was about to be decided. A familiar, albeit terse British accent filled the garage as the footsteps came closer.
“Cherri, what in the bloody hell took you so long?” Lydia’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard, shrill and demanding. I listened as the high heels came to a stop just outside the van, the sound of her exasperated sigh echoing through the garage.
“Like I told that idiot secretary of yours, you can’t detour me six hours out of the way and expect me to be on time,” Cherri shot back, her tone a mix of defiance and annoyance.
“I had better things to do this evening than administer tests to new stock,” Lydia said, her voice tight with irritation.
“And I prefer to not get caught,” Cherri added with annoyance. “But don’t worry, your precious cargo is all here. Fresh meat for your Halloween gala, just as you ordered.”
“Ugh, fine, fine, bring them out so I can get a proper look,” Lydia huffed, and I watched as Cherri stepped inside the van and moved towards Lacie first. She quickly unlocked the padlock tethering Lacie’s wrists from the van’s wall and yanked her to her feet.
I watched concerned as Lacie wobbled, her legs unsteady from being in one position for so long, but she managed to maintain her balance as Cherri led her down the ramp and into the garage. The sound of their footsteps grew softer, until I could no longer hear them.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” Lydia’s voice was cold and calculating, echoing in the cavernous garage as she inspected Lacie. I strained my ears to listen, my heart racing as I anticipated my own turn. The sound of high heels clacking against the concrete sounding as this Lydia no doubt was making an inspection of the ‘merchandise’ Cherri had acquired for her.
“Wonderful cup size, long fiery hair, and that broken spirit is just divine,” Lydia’s voice dripped with condescension as she evaluated Lacie. The redhead’s whimpers grew louder, the fear of the unknown turning into a palpable entity in the air. “Slave kneel there…next.”
Cherri’s boots clomped back up the ramp and without preamble unattached Bunny from the wall and yanked her to her feet. “Let’s go,” she said, her voice a cold command.
I watched with a heavy heart as Cherri dragged the scowling Bunny out of the van, the black haired girl's bare breasts bouncing with each step she took. She looked so fierce, so unbroken despite the fear that had to be bubbling just beneath the surface. The way she walked, her posture was defiant, and even though she was naked and collared, she still had a spark of the fire in her that I was jealous of.
“Wow that is a lot of ink, darling,” Lydia’s voice washed over me as I listened while tempted to strain my neck to see, but the last thing I wanted was to attract her attention. "But it does make you quite the exotic piece and that look of defiance is quite… tantalizing.” I heard the clack of Lydia’s heels as she circled Bunny, her gaze no doubt raking over every inch of her tattooed body. “You’ll fetch quite the price,” she murmured, almost to herself, “with the right buyer, alright kneel next to the redhead. Good, alright bring out the last one,” she called over to Cherri, her tone one of a master speaking to a servant.
“Ooooh yes masa, right away masa,” Cherri’s mocking voice drifted in from the open door of the van, the cheeky woman clearly not intimidated by her employer. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I knew it was only a matter of time before it was my turn to be paraded and evaluated like a prize animal.
The van's interior was silent except for the sound of my own shallow breaths and the distant echoes of Lydia’s cruel words. The anticipation was almost unbearable, my stomach knotting with dread. Then Cherri was there, her fingers deftly working the buckles of the leather belts that held my knees together. The cold metal clasped around my ankles was next, and she unlocked the padlock with a practiced ease that spoke volumes of the countless times she’d done this before.
Blood rushed to my feet as the pressure was released, and I felt the sting of pins and needles as circulation returned to my numb limbs as Cherri detached my armbinder from the wall. With a grunt, she pulled me to my feet, the leather straps of the armbinder digging into my skin. Once I managed to find my balance I was led over to the door and down the ramp, my legs wobbly and unsteady after so many hours of being bound in one position.
The moment my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the garage, I spotted Lydia. She was dressed in a sleek black pencil skirt that hugged her curves like a second skin, and a gold blouse that plunged dangerously low, revealing a generous amount of her ample cleavage. A pair of four-inch black stilettos with gold platform soles completed her look of cold, calculated authority. She tapped her foot impatiently on the concrete floor, the gold glinting with each movement. Her near auburn hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her dark green eyes bore into me like twin emeralds, filled with a hunger that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
“The pictures and videos Wolfe sent me don’t do you justice, Miss Monroe,” Lydia said, her voice as cold as the steel walls of the garage. “You are… utterly breathtaking and your sense of style is quite… intriguing.”
Reaching the bottom of the ramp, I braced myself for the inevitable as she stepped forward. Lydia’s eyes devoured me, the hunger in her gaze making my skin crawl. Then she stepped closer, her heels clicking rhythmically as she began to circle me. The first brush of her hand was a surprise, a gentle caress along my collarbone that made my skin prickle. Her touch then traveled down my side, a soft stroke that felt almost motherly. But as her hand continued down, it grew more invasive, cupping my breast firmly before sliding around to give it a cruel squeeze through my corset.
“Hmm, I need a more thorough look at what we have here,” Lydia said, her voice a sultry purr.
For the first time in nearly two days I took a full breath as I felt the laces of my corset loosen and then fall away as the silver buckles clicked open. The material fell to the floor, then Lydia hooked her manicured fingers inside the waistline of my latex skirt, peeling it down my legs with an almost delicate touch. The coolness of the garage air kissed my bare skin as the skirt fell away, leaving me in nothing but my thigh highs, heels and the gloves under my armbinder.
“Flawless, absolutely flawless,” Lydia murmured, her eyes raking over my naked body, the hunger in her gaze unmistakable. “Your body is a work of art, Miss Monroe. The kind of canvas that deserves only the finest brushstrokes of pain and pleasure.”
“Satisfied?” Cherri’s voice was thick with sarcasm as she stood behind me, her presence a shadow in the dim light.
“Immensely,” Lydia purred, her eyes never leaving my bare skin. “Now, since I’m short on time I’ll have to test these three at once.”
With a snap of her fingers, two towering men appeared, dressed in sharp black suits and ties that matched the color of Lydia’s eyes. They moved with the grace of panthers, and the confidence of men who knew their place in the world was to serve. They strode over to the van, each helping one of my fellow captives to their feet.
Lacie and Bunny were guided over to an elevator that I hadn’t noticed before, their legs trembling and their eyes wide with emotion. The metal box was large enough to fit a car, but in the context of our situation, it felt like a coffin, about to swallow us whole and take us to our fates. I stood there in the open, my nakedness under the harsh fluorescent lights, listening as Lydia spoke in rapid-fire to Cherri.
“I’ll need you to take care of one more… acquisition,” she said, her eyes flicking over to me with a cold smile. “It’s a delicate matter, so be discreet, as always. I’ll give you the details once I’ve had the chance to inspect the new arrivals properly.”
“Great, can’t wait to hear the details,” Cherri said with a sneer, her eyes lingering on me as Lydia gripped my upper arm in a vice-like grip.
She led me over to the elevator, her nails digging into my flesh as she whispered in my ear, “You’re going to be a hit, darling. Just remember your place and who’s in charge, understand?”
My mouth worked seemingly without my say, “Yes, Mistress,” I murmured, the words leaving my lips as if pulled by invisible strings.
This made Lydia’s smile widen, a shark-like grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Good girl,” she purred, her grip on my arm tightening briefly before she shoved me into the elevator with the others. The doors slid closed with a finality that was chilling, and we began to descend.
“Spread your legs slave, I want to see every inch of that pussy,” Lydia’s voice snapped out, echoing through the cavernous playroom.
After navigating a number of long empty hallways, we were led into a cavernous playroom that was anything but playful. The walls were lined with an array of whips, chains, and other instruments of pleasure and pain, all gleaming under the stark lighting that bathed the room. In the center stood a large, red carpeted stage.
Lacie and I were made to kneel side by side on the cold concrete floor of the playroom, my armbinder had finally been removed after days of agonizing pain, but the relief was short-lived as we watched Lydia circle Bunny in the center of the room like a hawk eyeing its prey. Lydia or ‘mistress Fox’ as she liked to be called had wasted no time in putting Bunny through her paces, her sharp eyes scrutinizing every inch of the black haired beauty’s body.
Bunny was tested thoroughly, first being ordered into a number of slaves positions, then having her body poked, prodded, and touched in a way that left no doubt as to her status here. The whip had cracked through the air a number of times as she tested Bunny’s pain tolerance, and we all jumped at first, our eyes snapping to the source of the sound. Lydia had held it with a casual flick of her wrist, the tip grazing over the curve of Bunny’s hip, leaving a faint line of red that was barely noticeable against her many tattoos.
Now it appeared Mistress Fox was doing her best to make her feel every bit like the property she was about to sell. I watched as Lydia’s fingers slid inside the folds of Bunny’s sex, her eyes narrowing in scrutiny as she assessed her wetness and responsiveness. The sound of her hand sliding in and out of the girl’s pussy was obscene in the silence of the playroom, and I couldn’t help but feel a heady mix of jealousy and fear.
“Hmm, your eyes are defiant yet your cunt betrays you,” Mistress Fox said with a smirk, her hand still buried in the depths of Bunny’s sex. “It seems you’re already eager for your new home, aren’t you?”
“Of course Mistress,” Bunny said through clenched teeth, her body trembling as Lydia’s fingers invaded her. She was the picture of defiance, her posture unyielding despite her words and evident arousal.
“You’ll be an acquired taste for sure, but you pass.” Lydia withdrew her hand from Bunny with a wet pop, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Bernard, take this one to a cell and fit her with the new set of our restraints and collar when you get there.”
The man she’d addressed as ‘Bernard’ stepped out from behind us, his movements silent despite his size. He grabbed Bunny by the arm, his grip firm but not painful, and she walked with him willingly, her eyes dropping down to the floor, her body still shaking slightly from the examination.
“Moving along, slave Monroe you’re up,” I heard Lydia’s voice, and my heart felt like it was trying to pound its way out of my chest. Getting to my feet was a struggle, my legs were still wobbly from the days of being bound, but I managed it without falling.
Taking slow deliberate steps, my heels clicking against the cold floor, I walked to the center of the room, my heart hammering in my chest. I knew what was coming, and a part of me was terrified, but another part was…excited. The anticipation of what was going to happen had a thrill to it, a dark allure that was hard to resist.
“I want to see all of you now before I test your limits,” Mistress Fox’s voice was like a whip cracking through the air, and I felt myself responding to it, despite the fear coursing through my veins.
“Strip.”
Taking a slow, deep breath, I peeled off the latex gloves with a hiss that echoed through the playroom. Each finger released with a pop, and I felt my skin cool as the garments fell away. My hands felt bare and exposed without the slick barrier, and I clenched my fists to combat the trembling. Next, I stepped out of my heels, feeling the carpet against my stocking-covered feet for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Finally, with trembling fingers, I began to unroll my latex thigh highs. The material clung to my legs like a second skin, and the sensation of peeling it away was both relieving and strangely arousing.
“There, doesn’t that feel better?” Lydia’s voice was smoother than honey, the sweetness belying the malicious intent behind it. I nodded, unable to find my voice as she stepped closer, her eyes raking over my bare body with a hunger that made my skin crawl. “Now, let’s get started.”
Circling me like a predator, Lydia’s eyes were sharp and assessing, her gaze lingering on every curve and contour of my body. She stopped in front of me, her stiletto heels digging into the carpet as she leaned in close, her breath warm and minty on my cheek. “You’re going to be quite the catch,” she murmured, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “But first, we need to make sure you’re… compliant.”
“Bend over and touch your toes,” Lydia’s words were a command, one that I knew I couldn’t refuse. My heart was racing as I did as I was told, my breasts swaying as I bent at the waist. The cold concrete bit into my palms as I touched the floor, and I felt a rush of air against my exposed pussy. I could hear Lydia’s heels clicking as she approached, the sound growing closer until she was right behind me.
Her hand hovered over my ass for a moment, a prelude to what was to come. And then her hand connected with a firm smack, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot. The sting was immediate, a hot sensation spreading across my cheeks. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, my body tensing as I waited for the next blow.
Instead of pain, I felt the soft caress of her fingertips, tracing the outline of my ass as if she was committing every detail to memory. The contrast between the sharp slap and the gentle touch was jolting, a delicious mix of pleasure and fear. It was a dance of dominance and submission, one that she was clearly in charge of.
“You’re definitely a natural submissive I can see,” Lydia said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. She stepped away, the clack of her heels echoing through the playroom as she picked up a flogger from the wall. The leather tails swished through the air as she tested its weight, the sound making my skin prickle with anticipation.
“Stand up straight and present your breasts,” Lydia ordered, and I complied, arching my back and pushing my chest out. The flogger’s leather tails kissed my nipple rings, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine. The light touch grew heavier, a warning before the real test began.
With a flick of her wrist, she brought the flogger down across my chest, the sting making me gasp. The leather tails wrapped around my breasts, the thud echoing in the room. I could feel my nipples hardening under the onslaught, each hit sending a wave of pain that blossomed into something… else. Something darker, more primal.
I should be hating this, I should be remembering how I was stolen from Jason, from my life, but instead all I could focus on was the way the leather kissed my skin, leaving a warm trail in its wake. The pain was a strange comfort, a reminder that I was still alive, still feeling. More swats followed, each one harder than the last, turning my breasts into a canvas of red and white stripes.
I could feel my juices beginning to flow as Lydia’s flogging grew more intense, my body responding to the pain in a way that surprised even myself. The leather tails of the flogger caressed my skin, leaving a trail of heat and agony that was strangely invigorating. My breaths grew ragged, and my legs quivered, but I remained steadfast, presenting my breasts for her to continue her assessment.
“Excellent, now let’s run you through your positions.” Lydia’s voice was clipped, her eyes gleaming with excitement. I knew what was coming, and the thought of it made my stomach drop. I’d performed these before in the safety of my own home, with Jason, but now, in this cold, harsh environment, it was different. It was terrifyingly… real, yet I couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through me.
“Waiting position,” Lydia barked, and I immediately dropped to my knees, my legs spread wide and my hands behind my back, palms touching. The floor was cold and unforgiving against my bare skin, sending a shiver up my spine.
“Well I’m guessing based on how swiftly you obeyed, Miss Monroe, that you’re quite familiar with your place,” Lydia said while looking at a very expensive looking gold watch, her tone a mix of amusement and satisfaction. She circled me again, the clack of her heels a constant reminder of the power she held. “Personally I’d love to spend some one on one time with you, but being short on time and having seen all I need for now, I think its time to get you settled.”
With that she snapped her fingers and from the shadows emerged another guard, this one carrying two pairs of leather cuffs and a leather collar. They looked thicker and heavier than any I’d ever worn before. Lydia’s manicured hands gripped me by my left arm and hauled me to my feet, the guard moving in to take my right.
In quick succession each of my wrists and ankles were secured with thick leather cuffs, the buckles each had their own small padlock that would prevent them from coming undone without the key. Once locked on my wrists were drawn behind my back and linked together by a much heavier padlock, my old collar was soon replaced with the thicker heavier one after. Lydia looked me up and down once more, her eyes lingering on my now exposed pussy and the wetness that had pooled between my legs.
“Give her her own cell next to the black haired one,” Lydia said with a nod to the guard as she stepped back, admiring her handiwork.
The guard took my arm and pushed me forward, my legs unsteady as I was led back towards the doors we’d entered through. His grip was firm but not painful, guiding me like a prized heifer to be penned. As we approached Lacie, the guard Lydia had referred to as Bernard had returned and now had her by the arm. He’d lifted her to her feet and was now escorting to the area where Lydia stood waiting.
Looking over my shoulder I gave Lacie one last sympathetic look as I was led away, the doors to the playroom closing behind us with a heavy thud. The guard didn’t say a word, his expression stoic as he guided me through the maze of hallways. The air was stale and cool, were my nipples not already hard from Lydia’s flogging they would have surely perked up from the temperature alone.
Most of the hallways were bare, their walls painted a sterile white, with not a single decoration to be seen, and the only sound was the sound of my bare feet and the heavy footsteps of my escort. The occasional light flickered overhead, casting a dim light on the floor that stretched out in front of us. Finally, we arrived at a heavy metal door with a pair of armed guards standing sentry outside.
They nodded curtly to the guard escorting me, and as the door swung open, I was met with a sight that was both eerie and haunting. A very long room stretched before us, its walls lined with what looked to be about thirty prison cells. A tug on my arm urged me forward, and we started passing by each one.
Inside each cell, the scene was almost identical: a cold, porcelain toilet gleaming under the harsh light, a pair of mattresses pushed against the far wall, and at least two women. These weren’t just any women; they were all stunningly beautiful, a veritable smorgasbord of races and builds. Each had been stripped of any dignity, their bodies devoid of any clothing. Collars circled their throats, leather cuffs encased their wrists and ankles, and their eyes… their eyes held a mix of resignation and fear, similar but not as haunting as the look I’d seen in Lacie’s earlier.
As we approached the end of the hallway, one lone cell remained empty, and I knew this was where I’d be spending my time before the auction. As we neared, I couldn’t help but steal glances into the neighboring cells, searching for any sign of resistance or hope. My heart skipped a beat when my eyes fell on Bunny. She was in the cell adjacent to the empty one I was certain would be mine.
However unlike the others Bunny appeared to be the only occupant of her cell, and she met my gaze with a look that was filled with something that looked like relief when she finally saw me. Her eyes searched my face for signs of distress, and I gave her the slightest nod, letting her know I was okay. Despite the circumstances, there was a strange comfort in knowing that I wasn’t entirely alone here.
Stopping in front of the open cell door, the guard unlocked the padlock that had kept my wrists bound together for the short walk to my new temporary home. I took a moment to flex my wrists, the feeling of freedom momentary before the reality of my situation crashed down upon me. The door to the cell was open, beckoning like the jaws of a monstrous beast ready to swallow me whole.
I guess my guard grew tired of waiting because in the next instant, he gave me a firm push, sending me stumbling into the cold embrace of the cell. The door clanked shut behind me with the finality of a tomb, the echo bouncing off the metal bars and concrete walls. As I stumbled forward, my bare skin scraping against the floor, I took a closer look at my surroundings. It was sparse, almost sterile in its emptiness. Just the two mattresses and the toilet, and of course, the unyielding bars that separated me from the rest of the world.
Turning back around, I watched the guard leave the way we came, his boots echoing down the hall until they were nothing but a distant memory. I rested my head against the bars, the thick metal cold against my forehead. As I stood there I wondered just what was truly wrong with me that I had fantasized about this sort of treatment from Jason but now that it was a reality, it was nothing but a cold, hard, and terrifying nightmare.
“Taylor, hey Taylor, where’s Lacie? Is she okay?” Bunny’s voice was a whispered concern, cutting through the heavy silence that hung over the cell block.
Turning around I saw Bunny had gotten up and was now gripping the bars that separated our cells, her eyes wide with concern. “She’s okay, I think,” I whispered back, not knowing if the guards would hear us but feeling a strange sense of urgency to keep our voices low. “She was being brought for inspection when I last saw her, I’m sure they’ll bring her here soon.”
I walked over to her, the leather cuffs clanking against the floor with every step. When I reached the bars dividing our cells, I was surprised when she reached through the bars and gripped my hand, her eyes never leaving mine. Her hand was warm, and I felt a semblance of comfort in the simple act of human touch.
“Hey, are you okay?” I whispered, feeling the tremble in her grip.
Bunny’s eyes searched mine, a fiery determination burning within them. “No,” she replied, her voice barely a murmur. “But I have to be.” She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort. “Lenix… that bastard. He couldn’t break me because I knew I had to be strong for Lacie. We’ve been through so much together. And now…” Her voice trailed off, the fear of separation palpable in the air between us.
“The auction…” I whispered, the word leaving a sour taste in my mouth.
“Yeah,” Bunny said, her grip on my hand tightening. “I just… I can’t bear the thought of us being torn apart. We’ve been through hell and back together. She’s… she’s like a sister to me, maybe more than that if I’m being honest.” Her voice was thick with emotion, and I felt my own eyes welling up in response.
The thought of the auction weighed heavily on us, filling the small space between our cells with a tension that was as palpable as the steel bars that separated us. I squeezed Bunny’s hand, trying to convey strength and solidarity through our shared plight. Despite the fear that clung to us like a second skin, we had to find some way to hold onto hope.
“Like you said, you can’t give up,” I whispered back, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.
Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor, and we both turned our heads to see Lacie being led down the hallway. She looked okay, albeit a little shaken up but no worse for wear, like Bunny and I. She had had her cuffs and collar replaced as well with the more sturdy looking ones. The guard escorting her had a firm grip on her arm, his expression as unreadable as the wall behind us. Bunny moved towards the cell door, but then stepped back when the guard ordered her to move away.
After unlocking Bunny’s cell Lacie was shoved in and the door slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing down the corridor. She stumbled into the room, her eyes wide with fear, and I watched as Bunny raced over to help her, wrapping her arms around her. They clung to each other for a long moment, both of them shaking with relief and fear.
I couldn’t help being a little envious at that moment, seeing the love and protection in their embrace. Despite the horrors we were all facing, they had each other, a bond that seemed unbreakable. I felt a pang of loneliness for Jason, for the life I had enjoyed before I was torn from it.
“Hey… you two okay?” I asked tentatively, my voice a soft murmur in the silence of the cell block.
Lacie nodded, her eyes red from crying but a small smile ghosted her lips as she looked up at me. “Yeah, I guess as okay as we can be.”
Not knowing what to do next I turned to the two mattresses in my cell and sat down on the one nearest the bars, my legs still shaking slightly. The coldness of the floor had seeped into my skin, making me shiver even though the room was not cold. I watched as Lacie and Bunny whispered to each other, their eyes occasionally flicking in my direction. I felt a strange mix of gratitude and envy; gratitude for the comfort of their presence and envy for the bond they shared that seemed to be keeping them strong.
Closing my eyes, I lay down on the mattress, the coldness of the floor replaced by the chilly fabric beneath me. Despite the fear and anxiety that gripped me, the exhaustion from the long day was winning out. I could feel sleep pulling at my eyelids, begging me to give in.
The next thing I knew, I was jolted awake by the sound of metal on metal. The door to my cell was being unlocked, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent room. The lights had been turned off at some point, plunging the cell block into darkness so deep it was like being at the bottom of the ocean.
The only light was that of a flashlight as a guard opened my cell door, the beam cutting through the darkness like a knife. “On your feet slave, Mistress Fox has ordered your presence for a more thorough examination.”
My heart hammered in my chest as I stood up, the cold floor sticking to my feet as the leather cuffs bit into my skin. I stumbled out of the cell, my world spun as I was made to face the bars as at the same time the guard wrenched my wrists behind my back. Once again I felt my wristcuffs being linked with a heavy padlock, and then I was being guided down the darkened hallway, my eyes adjusting to the dimness as we moved away from the safety of my cell.
As we passed the other cells, I noticed something that hadn’t been there before: the soft sound of sniffling, the rustling of bodies. Most of the women sharing a cell had chosen to sleep nestled in the arms of their cellmate, seeking warmth and comfort in the face of the unknown horrors that lay ahead. It was a poignant sight, one that brought a lump to my throat and a sting to my eyes.
Outside the long room of cells, the light blinded me briefly, and I squinted as the guard marched me down another hallway. The underground complex beneath the resort was a labyrinth of corridors and doors, each one no doubt leading to some new level of depravity or torture. My stomach churned with fear and excitement, the line between the two blurring with each step. Eventually we arrived back at the familiar doors of the playroom we’d been in earlier.
Without a clock it was hard to tell how long it’d been since we’d first arrived at the resort, but it felt like an eternity, especially given my sleep-addled brain. When we entered the playroom, I was stunned to find the space had been transformed. The intimidating yet erotic nature of the room remained, but now the central piece was a large four-poster bed, draped in black velvet and gleaming chrome chains.
More surprising than the transformation of the playroom was Lydia herself. She sat on the edge of the bed, her legs crossed, a wicked smile playing on her lips as she regarded me. More than that her attire had changed dramatically. Gone was the sophisticated businesswoman look she had sported earlier, replaced with something far more sinister. She wore black thigh-high leather boots with heels so high they looked like they could stab through a man’s heart, a leather corset that cinched her waist and pushed her breasts up like a shelf of deadly weapons, and elbow-length gloves that matched. Her bottom half was covered by nothing but a leather thong with a zipper running down the middle, leaving nothing to the Imagination. The sight of her in this attire was both terrifying and incredibly arousing, and I got the feeling my presence had nothing to do with the inspection the guard had mentioned earlier.
“Ah, there’s my night’s entertainment, right on time,” Lydia said, her smile widening as she saw me stumbling into the room. “I hope you’re ready to show me just how much of a slut you are Slave.”
My heart thudded in my chest, Lydia’s words causing a mix of fear and arousal to course through my body. The guard shoved me towards the bed, and I stumbled over to it, the cold leather cuffs biting into my wrists. Lydia reached out, her gloved hand hooking the D-ring of my collar, and she tugged me closer until I was standing directly in front of her. She traced a finger along my jawline, her touch feather-light yet commanding.
“You know I don’t often indulge myself with my own merchandise, but you’re something special,” she murmured, her eyes traveling down my body, the leather of her glove leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
With surprising strength she yanked me down onto the bed, the velvet of the bedsheets felt like a cloud compared to the fabric of the mattress I'd been sleeping on. In a flash, my ankle cuffs were linked via a padlock just like my wrists had been. Gloved hands gripped my hair next tilting my head back as a large ring-gag was forced into my mouth. It was a struggle to get it in, my teeth clamping down on the rubber ring as it stretched my jaws wide open. I felt saliva pool and spill over the edges as my eyes watered, my gurgled protests muffled by the intrusive object.
“There now you're in a much better position for what I have in mind,” Lydia said once she had secured the gag in place, her eyes gleaming with a hunger that sent a shiver down my spine.
With that she straddled me, her gloved hand pressing down on my chest to keep me in place. I felt the wetness between my legs grow, a traitorous response to the fear and excitement coursing through me. Her other hand reached up to caress my cheek, her thumb tracing the line of the ring-gag. Then without warning she leaned down, forcing her mouth onto mine, her tongue slithering through the ring to invade my mouth.
With my wrists pinned in the small of my back and my ankles cuffed together there was no escape from Lydia’s hungry kiss. Her tongue danced with mine, the leather of her gloves a contrast to the softness of her skin. I moaned into the gag, the sound muffled and low, but she seemed to hear it all the same. Her hands roamed my body, her touch firm and possessive, leaving no part of me untouched.
Then she broke away, her breathing heavy and eyes alight with a dark desire. Her gaze fell to my breasts, my nipples hard and sensitive from my growing arousal and the cool air of the room. “Such lovely decorations,” she said, her voice thick with a hunger that made my skin crawl. She reached down and pinched one of my nipple rings, hard, and I couldn’t help but gasp into the gag. The pain was sharp and surprising, but it was quickly followed by a rush of pleasure that had me arching into her touch.
“Oh yes, a slut that loves abuse,” Lydia murmured, her eyes dark with desire as she watched my body respond to her cruel touch. She leaned back, her gaze never leaving mine as she reached for something under a nearby pillow. My heart raced when she revealed a set of weighted clamps, my mind racing with what she had planned for my sensitive nipples.
With a wicked smile, she attached the clamps to my rings, the weights dangling menacingly. The cold metal made me gasp, the pain sharp and immediate. But it was when she twisted the bottom of each weight that the true torture began. A low buzz filled the air and the weights came alive, vibrating against my swollen peaks. I moaned in protest, the sensation overwhelming and unexpected, sending waves of pleasure-pain through my body.
Lydia’s hands moved back to my breasts, groping my swollen flesh, her touch hungry and demanding. She mashed and squeezed them as the clamps continued to pulse and throb with vibrations. Each vibration of the weight sent a new jolt through me, and suddenly my hips bucked involuntarily. My body was a canvas of sensation, torn between the need to fight and the desperate urge to give in to the pleasure she was forcing upon me.
“You know, I’m gonna be a little envious of whichever lucky buyer gets to enjoy these beauties every night,” Lydia said, her voice a low purr as she continued to knead my breasts like dough, the weights on the clamps making my eyes roll back into my head with every vibration.
And then, as if to claim the prize she had been eyeing, she slid a gloved hand down my stomach, her fingertips dancing over my hipbones before finally reaching my sex. My heart skipped a beat as she touched the sensitive flesh, the cold leather of her glove causing goosebumps to ripple across my skin.
“Your beautiful mound is so bare and ready for the taking,” Lydia murmured, her breath hot against my skin as she gently parted my folds. “Tell me, how often did you wax it for your master?”
I moaned into the gag, the memory of my laser hair removal sessions flooding back to me. It had been a painful process, but the end result was worth it for Jason. He loved the way my skin felt softer, the way he could glide his fingers and mouth over me without any obstruction. It had been my own personal gift to him and now my gift would only be a selling point to the sadistic man or woman who would claim me at the auction.
As if sensing my thoughts, Lydia’s fingers found my clit, and she began to rub it with the pad of her thumb, the leather of her glove bringing my attention back to the present with a jolt. The vibrations from the clamps on my nipples grew stronger, and the dual sensations had my body writhing beneath her. I was powerless to do anything but submit to her will, and with each vibration of the weights, my mind grew fuzzier, my thoughts consumed by the overwhelming pleasure she was inflicting.
“Well now that I’ve got you all nice and warmed up I think it's my turn to play,” Lydia said, her voice a seductive purr. She crawled up onto the bed and straddled my head with her thighs, then I watched wide eyed as she reached for the zipper on her leather thong. With a slow deliberate motion she unzipped it, revealing her bare, glistening sex to me. “I’ve had a long day and I’m in need of some relief, and who better to give it to me than a trained little slut like you?”
Restrained and ring-gagged as I was, there was little I could do but watch as Lydia revealed herself to me. The sight of her bare sex was both terrifying and arousing. I had never been in this position before, forced to please a woman, and the fear of what she might do to me if I didn’t perform was a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach. But there was also something… exciting about it. Something that made my traitorous body respond with a need that was almost primal.
Lydia’s musk invaded my nostrils, the scent of her arousal thick in the air as she lowered herself onto my face. The leather of her thong was cold against my skin, and I felt the wetness of her desire coat my cheeks. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, bracing myself for the task at hand. The clamps on my nipples continued to buzz, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core, making it throb with need.
“Come on slut, don’t just lay there,” Lydia said, her voice a harsh slap across my consciousness, bringing me back to reality. She grabbed my hair and tugged my head further into her sex, the moisture of her pussy smearing over my nose and cheeks. “I know you’ve had your mouth trained to please, now show me just how well you can do it on a woman.”
Panic flooded me, but I knew better than to resist. Instead, I maneuvered my mouth as best I could around the ring-gag and tentatively licked at the folds of Lydia’s sex. Her taste was foreign but not entirely unpleasant, a mix of arousal and something faintly sweet. She groaned above me, her hips rocking slightly as she encouraged my clumsy efforts.
“Attagirl, keep it up,” Lydia praised, her voice thick with lust as she pushed herself further onto my face. Her gloved hands tightened in my hair, guiding me in a rhythm she found pleasing. The clamps on my nipples continued to vibrate, sending waves of pain-laced pleasure through my body that made it difficult to focus on anything but the need to make her moan.
Nonetheless I did my best to ignore the clamps’ relentless buzzing and the discomfort of the ring-gag in my mouth. I focused solely on the task at hand, eager to prove my worth and perhaps, just perhaps, earn some semblance of favor from Lydia. As my tongue grew more accustomed to her taste and texture, I felt a strange sense of empowerment, despite my helpless position. My hands may be bound behind my back, but with my mouth, I had a weapon of pleasure at my disposal.
Making deep suckling motions I drew Lydia’s clit into my mouth, her grip on my hair tightened, her hips bucking slightly as I found a rhythm that made her moan. Her scent grew stronger, musky and sweet, as I licked and sucked at her clit, my tongue flicking against it with the precision of a serpent’s tongue.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s it,” Lydia groaned, her thighs tightening around my head as she grew closer to climax. I found myself getting lost in the rhythm of her hips, the sweet taste of her arousal coating my tongue. It was as if my body had been programmed to respond to her commands, to bring her pleasure.
Her moans grew louder, her breaths coming in short, ragged pants as she approached the edge. I felt the tension in her body, the way her muscles tensed and quivered above me, and I knew she was close. And then, with a strangled cry, she was there, her body shuddering as she came all over my face. The sensation was overwhelming, her juices sliding down my chin and into my mouth, filling my senses with the taste of her release.
“Yes! YES!” Lydia’s cries echoed through the room, her body trembling with the intensity of her orgasm. As she rode out the waves of pleasure, I felt a strange sense of accomplishment, a twisted thrill at being the cause of her euphoria. Her thighs loosened their vice-like grip on my head, allowing me to breathe once more, and she slithered off my face with a contented sigh.
“If I weren’t sure Titus would get jealous, I’d be tempted to keep you for myself,” Lydia said, her voice a sultry whisper as she leaned over to remove the ring-gag from my mouth. The sudden release of pressure on my jaw was a relief, but the feeling of her breath against my cheek was almost too much to handle. She leaned back, pulling my body flush against her own as her hands resumed their ministrations on my breasts.
I was so in heaven I almost forgot how I’d gotten here. Almost. But the rich hard leather of the cuffs around my wrists and ankles brought the reality back in a harsh bite. I was here to be used, abused and sold, and it was all because of David's sick plan. Yet, as Lydia’s body pressed into mine, her hands continuing to toy with my clamped nipples, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of… belonging? This was wrong, so wrong, but it felt right.
“Well Ms. Monroe, I’d say you’ve earned a little reward, don’t you think?” Lydia’s voice was velvety smooth, and I felt the tension in the room shift as she climbed off me. My breath hitched as I watched her stride over to a side table and pick up what looked like a double-sided strap-on. My thighs clenched in anticipation as I watched her insert one end through the zipper of her thong and then fasten the straps around her waist and hips.
Strutting back to the bed, Lydia’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she took in my bound, trembling form. The strap-on jutted out from her hips, the rubber phallus looked menacing in the dim light, and I couldn’t help but whimper as she approached. This was another new experience for me, one that filled me with a mix of trepidation and dark excitement.
The bed shifted as Lydia climbed back on, her weight pressing me into the velvet sheets. Gloved hands rolled me onto my side as she positioned herself behind me. The firm rubber of the strap-on brushed against my thigh, sending a shiver up my spine. “You’re going to take this like a good little slut,” she murmured in my ear, the command sending a thrill through me despite my nervousness.
“Yes Mistress,” I murmured through the open ring of my gag, my voice shaking as she lined the strap-on up with my entrance. I’d never been penetrated by anything other than a man before(not including personal toys), and the thought of the cold, unyielding rubber entering me was terrifying yet exhilarating. Lydia chuckled at my response, the sound sending a thrill down my spine.
“Remember, you earned this so you may cum as many times as you wish,” Lydia said with a wink, her gloved hand sliding the strap-on’s head against my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. With one swift, firm movement, she pushed it into me, my own slick folds providing all the lubrication she needed. I gasped at the intrusion, the odd yet strangely welcome feeling of being filled from behind.
Her strokes were slow and deliberate at first, allowing me to adjust to the unfamiliar girth. Each time she pulled out, the weights on the clamps tugged at my nipples, sending a fresh wave of sensation through my body. The pain was intense but it only served to heighten the pleasure building deep within me. My hips began to move in time with hers, my body instinctively seeking more of the delicious friction she provided.
The room was filled with the wet sounds of our bodies meeting, Lydia’s grunts of effort mixing with my muffled moans. She reached around with her free hand and found my clit, her thumb circling it with just the right amount of pressure to keep me on edge. I could feel the pressure building, my muscles tightening around the strap-on as my orgasm approached like a freight train.
I’d been on edge for what felt like an eternity, my body a tightly coiled spring, and Lydia’s slow, deliberate strokes had me wound tighter than a clockwork toy. My eyes squeezed shut and I bit my bottom lip, trying to hold back the screams that threatened to tear from my throat. The clamps on my nipples grew heavier with each movement, the vibrations increasing in intensity, setting my entire body alight with a symphony of agonizing pleasure.
Before I knew it, the slow, torturous strokes of the strap-on had become deep, hard thrusts that sent me spiraling into a world of painful ecstasy. Lydia’s grip on my hip was like steel, guiding me through the motions as if my body were a marionette and she the masterful puppeteer. Each time she drove the rubber phallus into me, it felt like my insides were being torn apart and stitched back together with threads of pure, undiluted pleasure. I gave up any pretense of control and moaned loudly like the whore I knew I had become, the sound echoing through the cold, damp air of the cell.
My eyes rolled back in my head, my body lost to the overwhelming sensations coursing through it. My breath came in ragged gasps, my chest rising and falling rapidly as Lydia’s strokes grew quicker and more erratic. Then my jaw opened wide as a scream built in my throat, the orgasm crashing over me like a tsunami. My body convulsed around the strap-on, muscles spasming with the intensity of my release. The clamps on my nipples seemed to pulse in time with my racing heart, each throb of pleasure echoing through my entire being.
My life seemed to flashed before my eyes and the next thing I knew I was crashing down onto the mattress back in my cell. Through heavy breaths I watched as the guard who must have carried me here, unlocked the padlocks linking my cuffs and made his way back out without a word. The door clanked shut behind him, leaving me alone in the dimly lit cell once more.
Used, I felt used but also oddly satisfied. The intense sensations from Lydia’s cruel yet pleasurable ministrations lingered, leaving my body trembling with aftershocks of orgasm. Despite the pain and humiliation, a part of me craved more of the power exchange we had just shared. More than any of that however, I was beyond exhausted and my body begged for rest.
Yawning, I laid my head down against the cool fabric of the mattress. My head felt fuzzy, my eyes heavy with exhaustion. Despite the horrors of the day, my body yearned for rest, desperate to escape into the sanctuary of sleep. I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of the world lift slightly as the darkness behind my eyelids grew more inviting. As sleep began to take me, I found myself looking forward to dreaming, hoping it would offer a reprieve from the nightmare I was now living.