When a young biochemist, just out of university, is offered an extremely well paid job, budget no object, that must be carried out in conditions of absolute secrecy in a hidden private laboratory; she'd have to be a fool if the thought, 'organised crime,' didn't occur. Hayley liked to think she was no fool. Corporations have their secrets, but very few legitimate businesses have state of the art laboratories hidden in the cellars of secluded old country mansions.

Mr Crown, her employer, claimed to be an American. It was possible. His accent didn't sound in the slightest stateside to Hayley, but to be fair, you didn't have to be born in a country to legally hold its passport. Secretive, wealthy, permanently accompanied by his two silent hoods and a blonde floozy, her first guess had actually been Russian Mafia. He'd once casually let slip that his wealth mostly came from Silicon Valley, but Hayley wasn't sure whether or not to believe him. The man didn't know the first thing about computers.

The offer though, was very attractive. The prospect of doing real and challenging work, in her own perfect lab - especially when the future held only a dull low-paid job in a giant multi-national, testing hair care products! - was very tempting. She'd still looked hard at the deal, and the two very complex compounds the mysterious Mr Crown wanted her to synthesise. Neither was illegal, but possibly only because nothing like them existed in the world yet. One, the easier, seemed to be some sort of growth hormone, the other a stimulant of some kind. But as far as she could tell, not a very powerful one. It seemed unlikely to be the next Ecstasy. Mr Crown had the exact formula, but no idea how to manufacture the complex compounds.

Which raised the interesting possibility that the formula had been stolen! But Hayley was intrigued, and the money was just too good to turn down. The task had taken her the better part of six months. And when her employer had said he wanted to see the results of her work immediately, he really did mean immediately! She'd heard the private jet go over. Only Mr Crown ever landed a Gulfstream at the little local airfield.

Hayley pulled herself out of bed and smothered a yawn. So much for her first lie-in in six months! She sighed as unfamiliar sounds and voices echoed around the big old house, she was used to having the rambling wood-panelled stately pile to herself. Taking long walks in its secluded grounds, her work and solitude disturbed only by the woman who came in to cook and clean for her two hours each day, she'd come to think of the place as her own. Home. Just pulling on her robe, wearing only a long T-shirt, Hayley yelped in shock and outrage, as without ceremony, the door to her bedroom was opened.

"The master wants to see you in the study, with your work."

It was one of Mr Crown's henchmen. Bodyguard, chauffeur, cook, butler and personal assistant, the two silent, nameless men seemed all those, and more. Not just servants, they were clearly trusted confidants.

"Don't you ever knock?" Hayley demanded.

The man thought about it for a moment.

"No," he said simply, and turned to go, leaving Hayley spluttering helplessly. Some people! But there was nothing to be done. She dressed, collected two samples from the lab, and obediently reported to the study. Besides, she was more than a little curious to know what she'd been making.

"Excellent. Excellent!" Mr Crown said holding the two vials of liquid up to the light. "Do have a seat."

The stimulant could be injected, or allowed to dissolve into the blood stream in solid form, if surgically implanted. Mr Crown had been quite content with a liquid form to begin with, and he was paying. Hayley watched with fascination as he prepared two syringes, carefully measuring a small amount of each of the drugs.

"Are you going to try it now? With no tests!" she blurted.

"Oh I'm sure your work is excellent," her employer said mildly.

Hayley was quite sure she'd got it right too, but she certainly wouldn't inject an unknown substance into her own body on someone else's say-so. Mr Crown carefully tapped the two syringes and squirted out a little of each drug to remove air bubbles. Rather him than her! One of the interchangeable goons served tea while the other propped up the doorway.

"Are you going to tell me what I've been making, now?" she asked.

"Well this one," he held up a vial, "makes a woman's breasts grow larger."

Hayley felt herself grin; first surprise - she'd never imagined that that was what she'd been working on - and then a dawning realisation as to how rich the drug could make whoever owned it. For those who wanted breast enlargement, a cheap, simple injection would be far more popular than expensive, uncomfortable, cosmetic surgery.

"And this one, is a very powerful sexual stimulant."

Hayley nodded politely. She'd believe that one when she saw it.  Spanish Fly? But if it was real; well, you only had to look at how popular a legitimate drug like Viagra was!

"Thinking of renegotiating your salary and working conditions?" Mr Crown asked with a faint smile.

Hayley grinned nervously, a little flustered at having her thoughts read so easily, but she felt no real personal danger, even alone in a secluded house with just the mysterious Mr Crown and his two hoods. He still needed her. Only she knew how to make the stuff!

"Actually, so was I," Mr Crown told her softly.

Hayley suddenly realised he had prepared syringes from both vials! She was the only woman in the room, and while a man might occasionally need a little pick-me-up in the sexual department, the second vial...! Hands on both shoulders forced her back down into her chair as she tried to get up, the second goon forcing her arm down onto the armrest, and quickly, expertly, using a roll of black masking tape, he secured her.

Hayley kicked and screamed, but there was no one to hear her at the secluded old house and the two men were not only strong, but seemed to be quite expert. Frighteningly expert! Within moments she was totally helpless, secured to the wooden-framed chair, tape around wrists, arms, ankles, legs, waist and neck. Trembling, trying not to cry, she forced herself to stop screeching and speak calmly.

"Lots of people know I'm here," she said quickly.

Mr Crown laughed. "Your life is not in danger, if that's what you were thinking. And given the nature of your work, I very much doubt you told more than one or two people where you were. As for those one or two, if they call, you will be allowed to tell them all is well."

He nodded to one of his men, who put his fingers tight under her jaw and forced her mouth open. The large red ball they strapped into her mouth didn't stop her screaming, just reduced the volume a little. Mr Crown sat back in his chair, watching with a faint smile, as first one needle and then the other was pushed into her upper arm. She tried to talk reasonably, to promise anything, but the obstruction filling her mouth turned her words into whimpers and unintelligible pleas. Tears welling in her eyes, saliva welling in her mouth, she forced herself to meet Mr Crown's eyes.

"You'll be ready to fuck within half an hour or so," he told her conversationally, "and it will be the best sex of your life. By tomorrow I'll be able to whip you to orgasm; humiliation, pain and shame will arouse you; and by the end of the week, you'll be desperate to please me, all thoughts of escape gone, if it means you get to be allowed to come just once more. Within two weeks, your tits will be large, firm and heavy, just the way I like them, and between serving me and my men, you will make more of this aphrodisiac for me. So that I can make more willing slaves.”

Hayley shrieked in horror, shaking her head.

"Fetch Summer!" he ordered one of his men over her shoulder.

"You're wondering why?" he asked her calmly.

"Mmmmm!" Hayley wailed.

"My name is Prince Samuel," her tormentor told her. "I am an exile in this world, stranded here by enemies. I come from a parallel universe, an Earth with a history different from yours; and I wish to go home!"

What? He was mad!

"I was abandoned here with just two loyal guardsmen, a single slave, and fortunately, some technological trinkets to sell. The technology is ahead of your world's! It's taken me a while - too long! - but I'm a rich man in your world now, and now I can gather the people and equipment who can make me a Gate, so that I can return to my own reality," he continued, as if talking to a bound, gagged, woman was normal. "To preserve secrecy, and to ensure their loyalty, my research team will have to be slaves, and your work has given me the means to control those slaves. You will call me Master; my men, Sir. If your conduct, both in the laboratory, and when being used for sex, is not satisfactory, you will be severely punished. Understood?"

Hayley shook her head again. No, no, no! This couldn't be happening to her. Mr Crown smiled, and clearly not caring if she believed him or not, went on to describe a world of slaves. Where nobles ruled and peasants served them. Where when the working class stepped out of line, they only went to jail for violent crimes. The litter louts, the tax-evaders, those who raised their voices to their betters or forgot to bow their heads, were sentenced to sexual slavery! They could be bought and sold throughout their sentence, their value going down as a slave got older and approached the release date set by the courts. And if you were too old to enjoy; then your children served your sentence once they turned eighteen!

And then the goon sent to fetch Summer returned leading Mr Crown's young mistress, naked, with a collar and chain! Hayley had never even imagined seeing a genuine slave in her life, but sometimes you just know you're in the presence of the real thing. She had seen Mr Cr...  Prince Samuel's, girlfriend on a couple of occasions before, usually wearing something sprayed on, hanging onto his arm and every word, showing a lot of leg and cleavage, and had dismissed her as a bimbo without two brain cells to rub together.

Led into the room by her lead, the cute little blonde was naked, perched on her toes in high stiletto heels, a chain hobble making her take small, neat, steps. Huge heavy tits quivered and swung with every step, a metal bar set through each nipple. The naked girl had a slender waist, a perfect hour glass, emphasising the generous flare of her hips, and her arms were strapped behind her, elbows touching. Hayley offered a silent apology for every dismissive 'piece of fluff' thought she'd ever had.

Prince Samuel stroked a buttock, planting a light kiss on a large breast. He reached between the girl’s legs and stroked his fingers into her. The blonde gasped, her knees buckling a moment, and then forced herself back into position. Standing passively motionless, head up, legs slightly spread.

"This little toy is from my reality," the Prince said conversationally. "I'd only just bought her at a pet shop, a present for my fiancée, just before I was stranded here, in this benighted world of yours."

His gaze settled on something in the distance only he could see.

"Isobell, my betrothed, likes torturing girls with big tits even more than I do," he said with a fond smile.

Then his eyes were back on Hayley, hard and cold. He stepped over and pulled her head back by her hair so that she was looking up at him upside down over the back of the chair.

"I want you to study and try to learn from Summer. She's quite an accomplished sex toy. A nice fuck, takes good whip. Sometimes I don't have to punish her for two or three whole days."

He dismissed his men.

"You two can have Summer tonight. I'll be breaking in the new slave.”

"Yes, Sire," they echoed happily.

Trembling, Hayley whimpered in fearful terror as her captor bent the pretty little blonde forward over the desk, facing her. Summer was incredibly placid.

Mr Crown tied a length of string to each nipple to hold the girl down, bent forward over the desk, tying the ends off to the desk's legs. Amazement and horror warred in Hayley's mind as the Prince unlocked the hobble and pulled Summer's legs wide; tying her ankles to the desk legs on his side. Hayley had of course heard of bondage, but the image that came to mind was a woman spreadeagled on her back on a bed. Not tying a girl down with string knotted tight around her nipples!

Summer's over-large breasts were pulled out into tortured cones, lying part-flattened on the desk, nipples and the areolae around them stretched out far beyond what Hayley imagined physically possible. Not that she could have ever imagined such a thing; not in a million years!

The man who called himself Prince Samuel tied a length of rope tightly around the girl's waist and then looped a length through the blonde's mouth, once round her head, and back to the waist. Summer's head was now held up firmly, spine arched, perfect teeth resting on the rope through her mouth; and forced to look directly into Hayley's eyes. With sick fascinated horror, Hayley realised she was going to see the girl ravished right in front of her.

And Mr Crown still wasn't finished. Two lengths of thin cord were tied - actually tied! - around the base of each over-large breast, the thin cord digging into heavy flesh as the man pulled slip-knots tight. Summer groaned softly as each cord was pulled tight, cutting deep into the blonde's flesh, her breasts now bulging, squeezed out, as well as dragged towards the desk's edge by tortured nipples. The cords were looped over her shoulders like bra-straps. Hayley suddenly realised the girl hadn't made one squeak of protest. Hadn't tried to twist away or even flinched, as she was tied down in a manner deliberately calculated to shame, humiliate and hurt.

She was used to it!

The Prince stood over his victim, one hand lightly stroking her backside, the other plucking the taut stings tied to her nipples. He met Hayley's eyes.

"Now, if you got the formula right, that aphrodisiac should be starting to kick in about now," he teased. "Nipples getting hard are they? A bit hot and bothered? Perhaps wondering what it would be like to exchange places with Summer?"

Hayley groaned in soft denial, horribly aware of the heat in her groin, totally at a loss to understand why watching the top-heavy blonde being so cruelly bound could be turning her on. She wasn't a sadist! It had to be the drug! And she would be forced to make more, she realised.

The Prince turned his attention back to his perfectly docile, long-ago broken-in, sex toy. Summer's arms were unstrapped, and a leather cuff bucked around each wrist. Her arms pushed up behind her back and crossed, the Prince tied the lengths of cord lying over her shoulders to the cuffs. Hayley couldn't believe what she was seeing! She wanted to look away but she just couldn’t. He’d actually tied the collared girl’s wrist cuffs to her boobs!

Prince Samuel, Hayley's self-proclaimed master, pulled a strap from a desk drawer, and lightly stroked the broad leather band back and forth across the blonde's buttocks. His victim moaned in soft, helpless, animal lust.

"You'll learn to submit too," he told Hayley. "And you'll learn to please."

"No!" she cried out in gag-muffled revulsion, twisting her head away.

Leather landed on flesh with a vicious crack, the blonde's squeak dragging Hayley's eyes back to the bizarre spectacle being acted out in front of her. Tied to a chair, she was only a metre away from a naked girl bent over the desk, wrist cuffs tied to breasts, tied down with her nipples! Prince Samuel swung the strap across Summer's buttocks again.

The helpless sex slave responded with a distressed cry, eyes wide, teeth biting deep into the rope tied through her mouth that held her head up. The girl's tormentor swung the strap again, the crack shockingly loud, a ripple running across her haunches, Summer squealing this time. The Prince slowly undressed, swinging his strap across the blonde's reddened, twitching, buttocks between removing items of clothing. The first tear ran down the gasping, trembling, slavegirl's face as he stepped out of his trousers.

The Prince was putting real bite into his strokes, the naked blonde getting quite shrill now, Hayley couldn't help but notice. Real pain, no play acting! And again and again leather bit into Summer's buttocks. The flogged girl was deliberately pushing herself forward onto the desk, Hayley suddenly realised; she still had enough presence of mind not to yank back on her tied down nipples and further torture herself.

But she couldn't help twisting and squirming, squeaking and sobbing as she was thrashed, and every time her bound arms jerked, she'd yanked the nooses a little tighter around her own big breasts! As Hayley watched breathless, the heavy mounds had ballooned out into perfect spheres, skin stretched shiny taut, crushed nipples purple now. Only when tears and saliva ran freely down the bound melons, twitching buttocks scarlet, did Prince Samuel toss aside his strap, and drive an erect cock deep into the bent forward girl.

Summer's head was driven up with a cry of ecstasy, teeth tight on her rope bit, as she was impaled to the hilt.

"Don't think this is just about sadism," Prince Samuel told Hayley conversationally, hands light on his gasping, bent-forward victim’s hips, leisurely pumping his cock in and out of the helpless blonde.

Summer's eyes were glazed, a little groan of pleasure forced out of her each time the Prince thrust into her. She whimpered in pain when her abused tits were squeezed, but the casual maltreatment only seemed to make her hotter.

"As you will discover, when you are granted the privilege of serving me, power and submission, are in their own ways, very powerful aphrodisiacs."

He patted a buttock, still pumping his shaft hard and deep into the helpless sex slave bent forward over the desk. Hayley watched, mesmerised!