EXTRACT FOR
Digital Slave V4
(Melissa DuVant)
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Melissa DuVant Copyright © Melissa DuVant The right of {Author
Name} to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted in
accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. Except for use in any
review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any
form by any electronic mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter
invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any
information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written
permission of the author. All characters in
this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no
relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even
distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all
incidents are pure invention. Chapter 1: Our Forcefully Faithful Correspondent Chapter 4: Rough Introductions Chapter 6: An Unexpected Victim Chapter 11: Walk of Shame, Dreams of Darkness Chapter 15: Not-So-Private Show Chapter 19: Deeds Forcibly Remembered Chapter 20: Contained and Isolated Thanks to all my subscribers! Chapter 1: Our Forcefully Faithful Correspondent Central London, a red-carpet event... Violetta whimpered, trying to contain her frantic blushing, her entire body hot and sensitive. The dress she was wearing barely deserved the name - it covered her entire body, but was of a gauze so fine that it was practically the same as being naked, except for the way it stroked and settled on her body. The only covering it gave was just enough that she wasn't entirely indecent, slightly thicker material over her breasts and crotch, just barely hiding her nipples and her slit. Flashbulbs blazed, making her want to run away and hide, not wanting to be seen like this - she liked looking attractive, but not virtually stripped bare! And beneath the dress, around her waist, there was the slight pressure of metal, intruders firmly lodged into her ass and pussy. She could feel her own wet warmth, desperate denial building up within herself, wanting nothing more than to touch herself and get off, but not in public, not like this! Her dress was low-cut, showing off her breasts, before coming into a high and tight neckline. And above that, sealed around her neck, was a gleaming metal collar, high enough that it forced her to hold her head straight, limiting how much she could turn her head, a single seamless curve of metal without any way for it to be released. Her mouth was covered by a veil, a metal band around her cheeks, a sheen of metal gauze that was bright and shining. But behind it, unseen by anyone else, was a solid rubber cock-gag, plugging her mouth entirely, pushing into her throat, rendering her entirely mute. It had been inserted, and then inflated, filling her mouth completely, pressing her tongue down, silencing her utterly. Her collar tingled, prompting her to movement before something worse happened. Whenever she moved, she could feel the things shoved into her moving, more metal violating her body, warmed and lubricated by her own heat, stirring around just enough that she couldn't relax. She moved towards one of the celebrities, hips swaying, more camera bulbs flashing. She didn't want to be photographed! Not like this! But if she didn't behave, then she would be punished, so she moved towards them, holding up a microphone. As she raised her arm, the metal bracelet on her wrist, thick and heavy to match her collar, caught the light - it was heavy enough that she could feel it as she moved her arm, similar weights on her other wrist and both her ankles. The heels she wore, high and thin, strained her ankles, making her butt tighten up around the plug inside her ass, keeping her posture straight and taut, her legs tense. The shine on her body was more than just sweat, her thighs damp with frustrated desire. But she knew that she had to keep her head high, so the camera mounted on her neck could record everything, otherwise she would be punished again. Being out here might be shameful and degrading, but it was better than there, the place her thoughts flinched away from, with the darkness and the pain, where she was nothing but pain and lust, unanchored from everything else. As she approached, she heard a voice - her voice - coming from out of her collar, asking some questions. She was permitted at least that much, her ear-plugs currently allowing external noise, although she could feel the bulbs pushed deep onto her ears. She tried to move as though she was actually engaged in a conversation herself, twisting her shoulders, leaning forward or back, shaking her head in mock laughter, her exquisitely-shaped hair sliding over her shoulders. Once the "interview" was over, the collar rumbled, along with a shiver from the thing buried inside her ass. Was that good? The thing felt huge! She shivered, feeling the bulk of it, the way the dress embraced her, her body on show, moving towards someone else. After several more "conversations", the crowd moved inside, Violetta moving with them, trying to keep some of them between herself and the cameras. At least she wasn't the only one in a revealing dress, although hers was definitely the skimpiest. As she moved, her hand drifted down to her waist, feeling at the metal band - so snug it was impressed into her skin, compressing her flesh, following the line of her hips. Unlike normally, her pussy was only covered by a thin chain, just enough to keep toys lodged inside of her, but she hoped her juices didn't start to soak into her dress, making her state of desperate arousal too obvious. Everything went silent, as her hearing was switched off, rendering her dead. Inside, she moved towards one of the VIP suites, her heart pounding faster, the vibe in her pussy twisting around. As she passed another of the guests, they reached out and groped her, casually squeezing one of her breasts. They said something, lips moving, but she couldn't hear. Her collar must have said something appropriate back, as he laughed, grabbing her breast more tightly, digging his fingers into her skin. They both stepped through into the VIP lounge - even in her addled state, the scent of fuck-sweat was heavy, narcotics swirling through the air. Various celebrities and their flunkies were fucking and being fucked - a woman was bent over a table, her skimpy dress pulled up around her waist, a man buried balls-deep in her. Another was restrained, her wrists shackled to the tops of metal poles. A whip snapped at her flesh, strangely silent thanks to Violetta's ear-plugs, tearing away the flimsy material, etching a mark into the soft flesh beneath. Violetta was shoved forward herself, a hand groping her ass, then slapping it, feeling between her cheeks, plucking at the metal band. She tried to move away, but a finger hooked around the metal, forcing her to stay close, as their other hand groped at her breast. The material tore under their grip, thin gauze easily tearing, peeling away from her body. Another hot flush came over her as she tried to hide her nudity, but someone else grabbed her arm and yanked, pulling her forward. With her ears silenced, it was eerie and unnerving, events proceeding like a movie, but one with her in it, and that she couldn't escape. Her wrist was tethered by the golden cuff, and she tried to pull away, but someone else grabbed her other arm and locked it into place, forcing her arms wide. Whatever her collar was saying, in her voice, seemed to pleasure the crowd, as they gathered around her. She tugged on her arms, unable to free herself, her tongue rubbing against the back of the plug in her mouth, unable to push it out. Fingers ripped away the rest of her clothing, until she was wearing just the tattered rags of the dress, tatters stretched over her body. A whip cracked against her back without warning, a shock of pain as it sliced against her flesh. Her hearing came back, the sounds of gasps and groans, and then her own voice. 'Harder!' She tried shaking her head, but the whip cracked against her back again, even harder this time, an angry welt of pain searing into her flesh. Hands mauled her breasts, squeezing her sensitive flesh, pulling on the nipples and stretching out the skin. A woman grabbed between her legs, pulling on the chain, detaching it from the waistband. She felt the toys inside of her, slowly sliding outwards as gravity started to pull them downwards. Another whip-lash struck her, the thin skin of the small of her back, and she tried to scream, but the plug in her mouth made it impossible to make any noise herself, her "voice" gasping in faked pleasure.. The thing that had been in her pussy slowly slid downwards, out of her body, striking the floor with a thud. The thing in her ass was more firmly wedged, before someone reached between her thighs and grabbed it, giving it a yank downwards. As the fattest part moved downwards, it pushed her anus wide, the sphincter only slowly closing up after it passed. The whip cracked against her buttocks, making her tense up, holding the thing partially inside of her for just a little longer before its own weight dragged it further downwards, pulling it from her body. Fingers probed into her pussy, her slit wet and loose, getting spread even wider, three fingers sliding into her. Her own voice was begging for more, even as she tried to resist, the whip cracking against her buttocks again. She would have screamed if she could have, but her mouth was sealed, her own voice betraying her as she begged for more, feeling a hand slide into her, all the way up to the knuckles. Her pussy was so hot it felt like it was melting as she was fisted, eyes glazing, only able to hear her own voice begging for more. She was aflame with lust and shame now, the humiliation of being violated in public, of being stripped naked, seen, and used, overwhelming her. *** Sometime earlier... Violetta checked her clothing, making sure it was appropriately, expensively bland - jeans, comfortable heels, a dark jumper that curved tightly over her breasts and hips, along with big sunglasses and a newsboy cap with a brim, so her face was mostly covered. The street ahead of her was quiet, expensive cars parked up, the doors and windows all wealthily anonymous. She knew that something was going on though! Trying to pretend a confidence she didn't feel, she walked forward, resting a hand on her bag, glancing down at the decorative black beads, one of them a camera-lens. She approached the door, the large windows on either side covered with curtains. There were steps up to it, with a cutaway below, more dark windows into the basement. Violetta took a deep
breath, then rapped her knuckles against the door in the pattern she'd heard
others use. A second later, a panel
slid open at eye-level, bright light stabbing into her eyes, stark against the
evening gloom. A female voice spoke, polite
but uninterested. 'Good evening, madam.' They stared at her - Violetta could see that
they had pale skin, dark eyes staring out from behind a narrow mask, lips a
bright red. 'Uh, "Vitruvian
Petrichor".' Violetta tried to hide her
nervousness as she spoke the password, hoping her contact her been giving her
correct information. She heard a rattle,
metal clicking, several locks and bolts getting opened, and then the door
opened. The woman inside was
wearing an elegant evening dress of blue silk, her shoulders bare, the dress
ankle-length at the back, but only coming to mid-thigh at the front, her
stockings and garters visible. Around
her neck was a leather collar, dark red and embossed with silver thread, a metal
ring hanging from the centre. As soon as Violetta stepped
inside, the door swung shut behind her, the woman sealing and locking it, her
clothing tight enough to show off the curves of her body. The room they were in barely deserved the
name, nothing more than a short passageway between the front door and another, inner
door, which looked heavily reinforced itself.
A security camera stared down at her from a corner, Violetta ducking her
head, hoping her cap and sunglasses covered her face. 'If Madam would follow
me.' The woman turned around and walked
away, managing a smooth walk despite her four-inch heels. The dress she was wearing was backless, her smooth
and pale skin marked with bright red slash-sears, angry red lines horizontally
across her back. Had the woman been whipped? The marks looked bright, fresh and painful,
although the woman didn't show any discomfort as she moved towards the inner
door. She'd heard that this place catered
to unusual tastes and preferences, but her contact had been very vague. She followed close
behind them, resisting the urge to reach out and poke the slash-marks,
wondering how much they hurt. What the
hell was being done to people here? A bulky, musclebound
arm reached out, blocking her path and making her squeak in surprise, as a large
man stepped out of a side-passage that she hadn't seen. In a dark side, with black sunglasses, a
shaved head and an earpiece, his whole demeanour screamed "bouncer". The hand and arm
stopped just short of touching Violetta, dark shades staring at her. 'This way, please.' Violetta froze. Had she been discovered? What was going to happen to her? Could she make a break for it? She glanced at the door to outside - it had
at least three locks, there was no way that she could open that before being
grabbed. Instead, she made herself nod,
trying to seem calm. 'Of course. Is there a problem?' The man's voice rumbled,
lower-class accent noticeable. 'Routine
security. This way.' He gestured with his hand down the passageway
he was standing in - it was decorated in an old-fashioned style, with ornamental
wallpaper and brass light-fixtures. The
woman stepped up close behind her, putting her hands onto Violetta's shoulders,
her scent enveloping Violetta, thick and sweet.
She was pushed
forward, not wanting to resist, the bouncer leading the way, mumbling something
into his wrist - this place seemed better organised than she thought! A wooden door pulled
open at their approach, revealing harsher and less congenial decorations - it looked
like a hospital inspection room, with a one-way mirror along one wall, another
camera high up in the corner, and a medical chair in the centre, curved leg-rests
that could be spread wide to inspect the occupant, a multi-bulbed circular
light on an arm above it. Violetta swallowed
nervously, her mouth dry, the woman's nails digging into her shoulders. 'Don't worry madam,
this is normal for first-time guests. We
just need to check you're clean. If you're
a good girl, we won't need the chair.' Lips, hot and slightly
wet, brushed against the back of her neck, making her emit a startled squeak,
as the bouncer crossed his arms, still glaring impassively at her. 'Um, what do I need to
do?' She'd come this far, and they
seemed to believe that she should be here, so there wasn't much she could do except
to go along with it. 'Stand there.' The woman pointed at a point on the floor,
marked with a barely-visible splash of paint. 'Hands on your head.' Violetta obeyed,
standing and turning to face her, noticing that the door out of this room was
metal on this side, with a device to help make it move, and that the
glass-fronted cabinets on the walls were filled with bottles of pills, vials of
liquid and lots of syringes - did the place deal drugs as well? She'd need to try and get evidence of that! A flashbulb went off,
flashing into her eyes and dazing her, the woman holding up a small
camera. 'For our records. Now, I just need to check you over.' She put the camera aside and pulled on surgical
gloves, the pale blue latex clashing with her elegant outfit as they snapped
over her fingers, her nails straining at the finger-tips. 'Unless you'd rather Marcus do it? Some women like a less gentle touch.' She held up a hand, the bouncer imitating her
movement, showing the comparatively huge size of his meaty hands. A bottle of lube
caught Violetta's attention, helping jerk her out of her daze of obedience. She drew herself up, finding, to her surprise,
that she was actually taller than the woman, admittedly not be much. She wasn't going to get molested by some prostitute! Although the bulk of the bouncer was somewhat
concerning, and the thought of being forced onto that examination chair, her
legs held wide, leaving her entirely exposed and vulnerable. 'I don't think that
will be necessary.' She stared at them,
shoulders back and straight, making her voice as strong and confident as she
could. 'I don't need any inspection.' The woman went to a cabinet
and opened it, pulling boxes of syringes and swabs out. They were blushing now, a soft tinge on their
cheeks, their lips looking even redder. 'Just
a cheek swab and a blood sample, madam.
To ensure that you don't have any medical concerns - it can be an issue
if a guest has an infection and spreads it to the, ah, entertainment. Unless Madam would like to be probed more thoroughly?' 'No. Definitely not!' She managed not to shiver at the thought of
the forced violation. 'Just do it then.' She keep staring at the woman, managing her
best "dominant" stare. The woman's own
stance changed, her head dropping down, shoulders drooping as she approached,
cracking open the seal of a swab. 'Open wide, madam. I merely thought you might enjoy something a
little more lively.' The cotton swab
brushed against the inside of her cheek, then slid further back, into her
throat. She managed not to gag and splutter
as it pushed against the top of her throat, staying in position as it soaked up
her saliva. It was removed and then
dropped into a plastic vial and put aside, before the woman took out a
syringe. 'Arm out. I never like this part! Far too medical.' Violetta rolled her
own sleeve back, revealing her pale skin beneath. The woman flicked the skin a few times, finding
a vein and jabbing the needle in, drawing out blood, before labelling the sample
and putting it into a plastic bag. 'Until you've tested negative,
then you shouldn't engage in anything too intimate with the entertainment. I'm not sure what the punishment is, but I
imagine that it would be unpleasant.
Now, would Madam like to come with me?'
She stepped in close to Violetta, pressing her soft body against
Violetta's. 'Soon, perhaps we can spend
some more time together?' The stance the woman took
was submissive, her head tilted back to show her neck and collar. Violetta tried to keep her voice as
commanding as possible, making it slightly cold. 'Perhaps.
If I think it's worth my time. Why
don't you show me around?' The woman simpered at
her, suddenly all friendly and fluffy. 'Yes,
madam. Follow me.' The guard coughed, gesturing
at the woman who stepped away with a disappointed sigh. The man spoke to her, their voice too quiet
for Violetta to hear, the woman nodding along before returning to Violetta, wrapping
an arm around hers. 'My apologies, madam,
some orders from management. But please,
come with me. And if you have any special
requests, do let me know.' Violetta let herself
be pulled forward, feeling the warmth of the woman. There was a metal tag on her collar - "Sapphire". Was that her name? Probably not real. What could she be ordered to do? But she needed to get some evidence of what
was going on here! She was led back into
the plain corridor, but this time down the main hallway rather than into the
hidden part. It led to a rather more
grand staircase, with finely polished banisters and a red carpet, although the
whole place was still quite cramped and narrow. At the top there was
another bouncer, this one giving Violetta a quick visual scan before looking at
Sapphire with a smile. The staff here
were probably all fucking! Although even
the bouncers were pretty hot, their suits all properly tailored rather than poorly
pulled over bulging muscles. 'Most of our patrons
wear masks, to preserve anonymity. And
those of us amongst the staff honoured with such things have a little more
freedom than those that are bare-faced.
Although if you would like to use me?'
She seemed entirely too enthusiastic, her own body close against
Violetta's. She preferred men though -
and ideally polite, submissive ones! The woman reached into
a drawer and pulled out a mask, handing it over. It was plain black leather, but she felt a
little better with her face covered giving her some degree of anonymity. There were wide double-doors in front of
them, which Sapphire pushed open. Sweat-tainted
air washed out, the space inside large and dark, the house hollowed out into a
large, cave-like room - it must extend into the next house as well, if not the
one next to that as well. A few scattered lights
offered soft illumination - she could see niches and alcoves around the wall, comfortable
seating filled by masked guests, with what she assumed were staff tending to them
- some were bringing drinks or food, but she could hear the wet, slurping
sounds of a blowjob. She could a head
bobbing up and down, an utterly naked woman on her knees, hands cuffed behind
her back, a suited man sat down with his hand on her head, guiding her around. 'Jessica has been naughty
- she is needing punishment. Unless you'd
rather punish me?' She fluttered her
eyelashes. 'You aren't allowed anything
intimate, but we could still have some fun?' From somewhere nearby came the crack of a whip,
and a gasp of pain. She let herself be
led forward, trying not to crane her neck to look around - it was hard to tell,
but she thought she recognised some of them!
She tried to twist her bag, hoping the footage would be clear enough to
be useful. In some of the niches
were presumably-staff, restrained and gagged, lit up like they were museum
exhibits. Sapphire walked towards one of
them, where a woman was held, arms bent back above her head and pushed through
the wall, the same happening with her legs, a gold-painted wooden frame around
her to make her look like a painting. A
leather blindfold had been tied over her eyes, and metal clamps bit into her
breasts. More had been clipped onto her
pussy-lips, the flesh discoloured where the metal bit into soft, pink flesh. Splashes of spit had fallen down her body, staining
her flat belly and perky breasts. 'Please, masters and
mistresses, please let me go!' Her restraint-frame
looked like it was deeply uncomfortable, her limbs straining to keep her partially
supported. Her belly was marked with red
welts, someone having taken a cane to her tender flesh. 'Jessica was bad, and hurt
one of the customers.' 'It was an accident! Please, master, have mercy!' There was no way for the woman to move beyond
shaking slightly in her restraints, the chain between her tits shaking as she
tried to escape. 'You may discipline
her, mistress.' Several tools were laid
out in front of her - paddles, canes, an electric wand and things that looked
even more painful, although Violetta wasn't sure how many of them could be used. Violetta picked up a handle that had a wire
loop attached, Sapphire cooing. 'Mistress
likes causing pain?' She had somehow
pressed herself even more tightly against Violetta, her hand moving downwards
between Violetta's legs. 'I have
permission to pleasure you. Although it
would be nice to see her suffer.' She guided Violetta's
arm upwards, then bought it forward, the loop striking against a tit, leaving another
mark on the abused flesh. The shock of
impact was strangely satisfying, the captive crying out in pain. She flicked her arm again, feeling the loop
strike skin, leaving an angry welt. Their pussy was wet,
and they shuddered as the loop flicked against it, their cry of pain making
Violetta shiver with a pleasure she hadn't felt before. Sapphire was purring with pleasure, close and
tight against her, her hand moving between Violetta's legs, touching her
through her jeans. She couldn't shake the
woman off without drawing unwanted attention - this sort of thing was apparently
normal here! When she glanced
around, off-handedly hitting them again, she could see more deviant sex acts
going on, the sounds of people straining against restraints, whips striking
flesh and wet flash slapping as people were fucked. Having Sapphire so close
against her was odd but arousing, although that was probably due to the woman's
hand between her legs. If it weren't for
her trousers, then Sapphire would be fingering her directly. As it was, Violetta was getting turned on, feeling
herself moisten and open, the material of her panties and jeans starting to get
wet from inside. A bell sounded from
behind her and she half turned, feeling fingers tighten around her thigh. A woman was crawling on all fours, entirely naked
except for a belled collar, being led by a leash, a thin strip of leather tied
over her eyes, spit bubbling up around a ballgag. Despite the blindfold, Violetta thought she recognised
her - wasn't that actress over here from the States to film something? More bells tinkled, little silver balls
clamped onto her tits, shaking from side to side as a suited man tugged on her
leash, making her move forward, platinum-blonde hair swaying in time with the
leashed woman's movements. As she was pulled past,
Violetta could see that fluids glistened on her backside and around her pussy,
white-silver streaks showing that she had been used, and hard, by the looks of
things. Her flesh was marked with thin
red welt-lines as well - what had been done to them? Violetta felt herself warm
up, her clothing suddenly far too tight and constrictive. This really was some perverted club for the
wealthy and the elite to use! If she
could get some evidence, then that would make her reputation as a journalist,
or make her a lot of money in blackmail.
Or, even better, both! She squeaked when Sapphire
lightly stroked one of her breasts, her breath hitching, the heavy petting
starting to have an effect, turning to see that the woman was touching herself
as well, having lifted the skimpy material of her dress aside, fingering herself. The woman seemed not to care about Violetta
watching, or maybe that helped get her off?
'Mistress, please, may
I...' Her eyes were wide, barely focused,
giving Violetta the chance to move away slightly, grabbing at their collar
ring. The feel of the metal gave her a
greater sense of control, as Sapphire's hand moved away from Violetta's body
and the woman used it to stroke herself - her erect nipples pushed at the thin
silk of her dress, and she'd lifted the short front-skirt to show off her bare
slit. No-one else seemed to
be reacting, to either this or the leashed actress - the place must be so
deviant that such behaviour was entirely normal. Violetta put the loop-whip-thing back down,
then used her grip on the ring of the collar to shift Sapphire around, as she
continued to lightly stroke and touch herself. 'Why don't we sit down?' 'But, Mistress...' Sapphire didn't fight
back as Violetta pulled on the collar, moving them over to an unoccupied curved
booth. The shape of the space made it
mostly anonymous - aside from anyone crossing over the floor, the booths were
mostly set so that they couldn't see into each other, the spotlights highlighting
restrained and tormented female bodies, but with the guests able to stay out of
view. She sat down, Sapphire
kneeling on the ground in front of her, one hand still playing with her
breasts, the other lightly stroking between her own legs. Violetta wanted to touch herself as well, but
in jeans that would mean opening them up and lowering them, and exposing
herself, the thought making her flush with pre-emptive shame. Sapphire's head
dropped down, kissing at Violetta's shoes before bobbing back upwards - her pupils
were massively dilated now, her breath coming in desperate pants, like she was
an addict in need of a fix. 'Please,
Mistress. Please... Please order me to... finish?' Violetta looked down
at the woman, raising her leg and using her own heel to jab them in the breast,
savouring the sensation of power, literally able to crush them underfoot, like
a worm. This woman seemed quite obedient
- maybe she could pump her for information, find out which famous people used
this place? But that would have to wait,
for now she needed to blend in. 'Slowly. Gently touch yourself.' 'Yes... Yes, Mistress.' She was obedient, spreading
her thighs wide, letting Violetta see her wet pussy, teasing her own folds,
only lightly fingering herself, staring up at Violetta, lips trembling. 'Please? A little more, Mistress...' Violetta dropped her
foot down, pressing it forward, using her toes to press against the wet slit,
pushing Sapphire's hand aside, feeling her pointed toes slide into the woman's
body. The position gave her power,
making her feel dominant and in charge, as she felt her own pleasure well up,
barely managing to resist the urge to touch herself, settling for fondling one
of her own breasts. Sapphire didn't
resist, allowing herself to be trodden on and violated, her soft body at Violetta's
mercy. As Violetta twisted her
foot around, Sapphire held her pussy wide, letting herself be violated and
used, leaning back and using her other arm to support herself. She started twisting her hips back and forth,
before exclaiming and gasping, her juices flowing out as she came, body
sagging. 'Thank you, mistress...' Violetta smiled. She'd found it! Now she just needed to get enough video
evidence and she could expose this place! Violetta stroked between her legs, gently rubbing herself with one hand, as her other hand moved the mouse, playing the video again. It was blurry and grainy, the low light making the shapes strangely distorted, but a woman could be seen crawling along the ground on all fours, her face turned partially away from the camera, and only on the far side of the frame. She tried to focus the image better, but there wasn't much quality there to work with. Although she had been a little distracted at the time! She flicked backwards and forwards, finding the clearest frame, with platinum-blonde hair around a heart-shaped face, the spit-stained gag clear, everything else a bit vague and shadowy. Violetta slipped a finger
inside of herself, shivering in pleasure as she cropped out the image, applying
a few more filters to try and touch it up, making it as clear as possible. She was only gently stroking herself now,
keeping herself away from the release of pleasure, on the edge but not letting
herself tip over. She'd already drafted
the text message, using an anonymous burner-phone, having obtained the actresses'
phone number through a large bribe. She
attached the image, then hit "send".
That might get her a healthy payoff!
She started to pump her fingers back and forth, fumbling and grabbing a vibrating
wand, flicking it on. With her work done,
she could focus on her fantasies - masked and radiantly dressed, sat atop a
kneeling hunk, having more at her beck and call, collared fuck-toys waiting for
her to order them. She came, loose and
wet, letting the wand drop from her fingers to the floor as she sighed in pleasure. The actress would be mid-tier - she might get
a nice payday from this all! It took several long, pleasurable
moments to shake off the post-orgasmic languor, her body pleasurably weak and
limp, although her back was stiff from having been hunched over her computer
for too long. She needed to try and
get back into that club! Although she'd
have to be careful not to visit too often, it seemed the sort of place that
might be able to "disappear" people without too much difficulty. She didn't want to end up collared
herself! Trailing a finger along her
neck made her shiver, wondering what it would feel like to have leather or
metal wrapped in place, locked around her skin, impossible to remove. Sealed into metal, someone else having the
key, a power that couldn't be denied.
She'd rather by the one with the keys, leading someone else by their
leashS A phone buzzed, startling
her, making her chair shake around as she twitched. She had to grab at the edge of the desk to
steady her position, feeling her heart pound from the movement, before grabbing
at the phone. She hadn't expected a
response so quickly! There wasn't anything
on it, the screen empty of notifications.
It took her a moment to realise that it was her own personal phone that
had buzzed, forcing her to stretch over and grab that instead. It was from a number she didn't recognise -
what did it say? We share common
interests. Further investigation
required. Will you assist? There was an image
attached to the message, a woman's body stretched out on a metal frame,
pinioned by the wrists and ankles, body marked up by whip-welts. The image was grainy and low-quality, with
the head cut off by the framing, and no identifying marks on the tanned body. From the sort of gear displayed, it was probably
at that club though, or somewhere very similar. The phone buzzed in
her hand, making her squeak and almost throw it across the room, as more
messages pinged in. A useful ally. An event happening tonight - willing to
share. Contact:sdkfsfgnuernfgfdfge@... This was followed by
an e-mail address that was a long string of random characters, clearly a made-up,
disposable one. She went back to her PC
and created a new e-mail address herself, using that to send them a message. She tried to keep it terse and brief, not
wanting to incriminate herself at all, her other hand gently rubbing between
her legs as she waited for a response.
She was naked except for some loose shorts, her curtains closed, enjoying
the warmth of the air. It didn't take long for
a response to come back, her phone buzzing at the same time as the message
flashed onto the screen. I'll supply tools
for infiltration. Can't risk myself,
they know me. But you are unknown. Agree? Their writing was very
terse, but that might be an attempt to disguise any distinctive speech or
writing patterns they had. It did make
them sound more than a little like a conspiracy nut though, the sort with a board
of pictures attached by red string.
Still, if they gave her a good lead, then she'd play along! She sent back a simple "yes", then waited for
a response. At least they were
attentive - it was only a few seconds later when their response came back. Items in locker 69,
St Pancras. Locker code: 58008. Details to follow. Locker? Did they mean the train station? There must be rental lockers there. She hesitated for a moment, wondering how
trustworthy they were. But the train
station was open and public, so it seemed unlikely anything would happen there. She dressed herself -
tight trousers, a white shirt, tight enough to show off her curves, and a
jacket. It was easy enough to cover her
face with a loose scarf and big sunglasses, her hair tied into a plain bun. It wasn't far to go,
the spring weather not quite warm yet, but the sun was nice and bright. As always, there were large crowds streaming
in and out of the station - tourists and commuters both, travellers and
tourists. Inside the large
concourse, Violetta walked past the lockers several times. There were people loitering about, but there
always were - people waiting for a train, or just people-watching. Shifting her scarf to try and cover her face
more without looking suspicious, she approached the lockers. 69 was a large one, big enough to take an
entire suitcase - she glanced around again, trying to see if anyone was
watching her, before tapping in the code. It popped open and she
reached inside - her fingers brushed against tough-feeling plastic, and she
pulled out a black case. It was heavy! She had to strain a little to lift it, glancing
inside the space to see if there was anything else, but that was it. It looked like something from a sci-fi movie,
the sort of case used to transport bio-hazards or top secret material. The whole thing was reinforced, with metal
latches on the top, made to take a beating.
She could carry it one-handed, just, but it hurt when it bashed against
her legs - hopefully that wouldn't leave a bruise! Fortunately, the
toilets were close by, and there was a mother-and-baby room currently
empty. She locked the day, then lowered
the baby table, putting the case onto that.
The latches were stiff but she managed to work them open and then opened
the case. Inside, it was padded
with stiff foam, divided into several sections, shaped to hold specific items
without them being damaged. There was a
wide curve of metal, hinged so that it could open, with a battery pack
attached, some kind of sensors on the inside.
She took it out - it was heavier than she thought, the edges rounded off. There was also a set of four smaller
cylinders, each with metal rings on the outside. She took one and carefully placed it on her
wrist - it fit perfectly, so snug that when she held it shut, it felt as though
it wouldn't be able to slide at all. She
took it off, the thing swinging open without a problem - when it was closed, it
was so well-made that the seam was virtually invisible, and with metal bars
that could slide into place to seal them shut.
So two must be for her wrists, and the others for her ankles? Which would mean... She picked up the
larger metal ring and swung it open and closed, checking that it opened and
shut - where the ends met, then she could see how it would lock shut. Being careful not to
close it fully, she placed it around her neck.
It rattled loosely until she winced and closed it fully, where it then
sat flush against her flesh, the metal cold.
The powerpack must sit at the back - the metal was slightly curved so that
it nestled against her collarbone and shoulders. She took the thing
off, feeling her heart beating faster, glad to have the metal away from her
neck, of not feeling bound and constrained.
But what was it for? A metal
collar and matching metal cuffs - they were well-made, shiny and sturdy, the
metal catching the light as she turned a cuff. On the top half of the
case, wedged into the foam, she saw a piece of paper. She pulled it out, finding that it was an
envelope - heavy paper, clearly expensive, with an already-broken wax seal on
it. The seal was red wax, showing some
kind of mask or face. And inside there
was heavy card, about the size of a postcard.
The front was embossed, the card raised into writhing chains, and on the
back there was a QR code, with a post-it note stuck onto it. Meeting tonight. Clothing provided. Full details in case. She pulled at the foam
further, finding a small technical manual and flicking through it. There was a camera in the collar - a small
pinprick hole that looked perfectly innocuous.
That would explain some of the bulk of it, as well as the
powerpack. And audio pickup as well. Mounted on her neck, it would be easy to
ensure it recorded the right things! The
cuffs seemed excessive though - there were rings hinged onto the metal, clearly
intended to be used to tie things onto.
And the collar had an O-ring hanging from the front as well! But if the card was an
invitation, then she could go to the next party, then she could get in and get
some proper footage. And then if there
was anyone famous or wealthy, use the footage to secure her own money. If that actress was there again, she could get
some clearer footage, ideally of her being fucked or used, to use. The handwriting on the note was neat, almost excessively
so, every letter precisely and perfectly formed, looking almost like it had
been typed rather than written. And the
style of writing was incredibly terse.
But the collar and cuffs were fantastically made, bright enough that
they could pass for high-end costume jewellery in other contexts. Behind the foam padding
was a plastic packet, containing what looked like fabric - she could see a
hem. Was it a dress? The note had said "clothing provided". But this was scarcely the place to try it on -
not in a slightly grimy cubicle at a train station. She put all the metal components carefully
back into the foam, trying to keep them clean of any smears. She walked back to her
apartment, trying to stride confidently, and to ignore the dragging weight of
the case on her arm, feeling her excitement build. But now she had to prepare herself! Violetta posed in
front of the mirror - the dress was very tight, sheathing her body in
black silk, just barely covering her buttocks, so tight that it didn't need
straps to stay up, showing the swell of her breasts and dipping low in the back
to reveal bare flesh. She'd certainly
draw attention like this! She looked
damn good, with her bare legs lean and smooth, some nice black stiletto heels. Although the other items in the case she wasn't
sure of - padded metal to go around her waist, with a metal panel attached by
sturdy but thin wires. She lifted the
hem of the dress and cautiously wrapped it around her waist, not pressing the
centre-piece together. It was a snug fit,
cinching her already slender waist just a little tighter, curving along her
hips, a larger piece of metal just beneath her navel. The waist-band by itself was like a stylish
fashion belt, although shaped from a curve of metal rather than anything more
flexible. But the rest... Wires twined together into an unbreakable
cord, at least without power tools, with a metal plate, currently dangling just
above her sex. Still holding the
waistband in place, she pulled the plate backwards, shivering at the cold metal
on her lips, the thing so tight it partially went inside of her. The cord on the other side made it like a
thong, although the metal would make it chafe rather more, sliding between her
buttocks, a tab on the top sliding into a notch on the back of the waist-belt
and clicking neatly locked. There were keyholes,
covered with discrete sliders to make the device look like unbroken metal, and
the key had been supplied. She locked
the front panel, feeling the whole device tight around her body, twisting
around - it didn't hamper her movement much, although if she bent forward, she
could feel the metal chafing between her buttocks, rubbing sensitive skin. She spread her thighs
and tried to finger herself - the thing was tight enough that she couldn't get
a finger around the main plate. She
could twist it around, a bit, enough to get herself going, but the metal
pinched at her flesh if she tried anything more, too tight against her skin to
slid in. If she needed to pee, then that
would be possible, but messy, as it would just dribble out, and leave her in need
of a shower afterwards. Just having the metal
locked around her body was making her heart race, her head feeling fuzzy until
she found the key, unlocking the crotch band and letting it drop away from her
body, before unlocking the waistband and freeing herself. If she was going to some crazy sex party, then
protecting herself seemed wise - with that in place, the worst that could be
done to her would be to use her mouth, which seemed less bad than the other possibilities!
There was also a mask -
continuing the "metal" theme, although it was of dark-brushed steel rather than
bright and shiny, and with padding where it sat against the face, with a leather
strap around the back of her head and clear lenses over her eyes. Violetta tapped them - they felt
plastic? But they were so clear that she
barely noticed them when wearing the mask. With this on, she would have to worry less
about being recognised herself. Whoever
was helping her certainly had a good sense of style! And it would make make-up easier, if her face
was covered. She scanned her phone
over the invitation again - it had a countdown, showing that something was soon,
and the start of a postcode. She'd
already checked - it covered a central city area, with all sorts of clubs, bars
and tower-blocks, so trying to figure out in advance where she was going didn't
seem possible. Presumably, once the
thing started, then the guests would be shown where to go, and then the address
would vanish. A convenient way to limit
attendance! Violetta checked
everything again - after much fumbling, she'd managed to open a hidden patch on
the collar, finding a USB port, which was plugged in, her screen showing a live
recording. It had enough memory for
hours of recording, which should be ample.
She shivered as she lifted it up, turning it around the room, already
imagining the metal in place around her neck, heavy and hard. But she would have to wear it to capture more
footage! She took a deep
breath, unplugging the collar, lifting it up and snapping it around her neck,
twisting it into place. She hated the
feeling of constriction, of not-quite being choked, the tightness and
weight. But at least she had the key to
remove it! She brushed fingers over the
metal, closing off the USB port, finding the concealed keyhole. She only had the one key, so she'd have to put
that somewhere safe, or she'd be locked into it forever. The metal felt tough enough that the tools
needed to cut through it would be dangerous, that close to her neck and face. Putting the cuffs around
her ankles and wrists did little to calm her, as she used the key to seal each
bit of metal into place, her hands tensing up in nervousness, as the shining
metal locked around her flesh. The fit
was perfect, without any chafing or pinching, but she still hated the sensation. Although she did look
good! The collar forced her to stand a
little straighter, her neck held straight within the metal band. She clicked and locked the metal around her
crotch again, the metal cord chafing between her buttocks, turning her on slightly. When she pulled the dress back down, she
could see the lines of the chastity belt around her hips underneath the fabric,
although the crotch-plate itself wasn't visible. Did she want to show off that she was wearing
it? Would that make others think she had
someone else with the key? She fetched a belt of
her own, a wide golden chain, and laced that around her waist - it covered most
of the lumpy raised area, hopefully hiding the bulk of the chastity belt. The mask was small enough that she could tuck
it into her purse, and it only took a few moments to apply her makeup, and then
she was done. She blew a kiss at the
mirror, before taking her phone and making sure her makeup and hair were both
perfectly done, and then she set out. The partial-postcode was in a rich area, with expensive apartment blocks and offices along the river, the prices at the restaurants all stretching into the triple figures as a starting point. In her tight dress, Violetta was drawing attention, swaying her hips a little as she walked past a group of bankers, enjoying the attention. Her phone beeped at her,
and she stepped into a doorway to check it.
Soon. Be prepared. There was no other information, but the address
was not given in full. And it was only a
short walk away! Although she didn't
want to arrive too early. And so she
sauntered around the block, enjoying the feeling of eyes on her body, trying to
ignore the metal cinched around her waist.
The key was back at her apartment and so she couldn't take it off now,
the collar locked in place, even her best efforts with a silk scarf doing
little to hide it. After dawdling a
while, she headed for the address - down a side-street, full of up-market shops
and boutiques, between fancy eateries. She
had to walk down steep stairs to a below-ground entrance, her heels high enough
that she had to take it slow and use the hand-rail, a door that looked strong
enough to repel explosives greeting her.
There was no buzzer or eyehole, just a black scanner-panel - she had to fumble
around for the invitation and then held it up, slowly swiping it back and forth
until the thing beeped and the door slid open. Cold blue light spilled
out, the thing only opening just enough to let her step inside, and then sealing
itself shut with a loud hiss. As
it did so, she fumbled inside her purse, pulling out the mask and settling it
over her face, feeling more comfortable being partially hidden. The walls on either side of her were mirrored,
reflecting her back at herself, and she preened, tossing her hair back and
forth, admiring how tight the dress was, the collar and cuffs shining in the
chill blue light. Ahead of her there was
another door, a metal panel that slid smoothly aside. A woman stepped through - not Sapphire, but
someone else, dressed in black leather trousers and a tight blue shirt, with a
taser, cuffs and other items hanging from a wide belt, blue latex gloves on
their hands. 'Invite.' Their voice was bored and impersonal as they
held a hand out, Violetta handing the card over as they pulled out a scanner
themselves and swiped it over the card, looking at whatever came back onto their
screen and then nodding. 'Security pat-down. Hands on your head. And no bags are allowed inside - there is a
cloakroom that will look after your personal belongings.' Violetta obeyed, not
liking it but having little choice, standing with her hands on her head, her
legs slightly spread as the woman advanced on her. A hand tapped her collar, making the metal chime,
before groping at Violetta's body. With
how tight the dress was, this seemed unnecessary! Smooth and latex-wrapped hands brushed over
her arms, groped her breasts and then reached between her legs. The chastity belt clinked, strong fingers trying
to push around it, making Violetta grunt in pain as her flesh was pinched and squashed
against the metal. They pulled against
the chastity belt several more times, unable to twist the metal enough to access
her holes, their body pressed tightly against Violetta's, the things strapped
around their waist pushing into her. She
didn't dare protest, but endured in silence until the woman was satisfied. 'You're clean. Don't start any trouble unless you want to
end up downstairs. A pretty thing like
you would be very popular down there.' A hand reached around
her and rested on her buttock, until she shook it off and stepped forward,
letting the inner door open up. She
tried to glare at the woman, but the lenses in her mask must have hidden her
eyes, as the guard didn't notice or didn't care. Her fingers tapped
against Violetta's collar then grabbed the ring, making her shiver, not liking
the reminder of the binding metal around her neck. 'I like this one. Metal's much nicer than leather. But cause any trouble and I'll wire it up to a
plug, see what happens.' Her smile was
cruel and self-satisfied as Violetta pushed on her arm. The guard tensed her arm, muscles powerful,
easily able to resist Violetta before letting go and standing aside. Violetta clenched her
hands and walked forward, shifting her shoulders and trying to make the feeling
of constriction and containment go away - having the metal wrapped around her
neck, and the weights of the cuffs on her ankles and wrists, was making her
nervous. The key was in her purse,
carefully stashed in a small pot, safe and secure. Inside was a long and
stylish bar, all chrome and everything lit in chill blue up-lights, making her
feel cold despite the warm air. An
attractive young woman in a latex mini-dress smiled at her, bowing her head,
blue-and-green hair bobbing around. 'Your
bag, madam? I'm sure madam wouldn't wish
to get in any trouble.' As she
straightened up, her dress tightened over her breasts, the shiny material
pulling against her flesh enough that Violetta could see the outline of bars
through each of her nipples, making her suppress another shiver. Having metal wrapped around her body was bad
enough, the thought of having it inside of her as well was even worse! She handed her purse
over, then watched as the woman turned away and walked towards a bank of small
lockers, buttocks outlined in latex, hips swaying, a large tattoo covering her
thigh. A few moments later, she came
back and bowed again. 'Please ask for
number 37 when you leave. Are there any
services you require? Or are you waiting
for someone else?' 'I'll just get a
drink.' 'Of course. Please, ask me if you need anything. Or have a look around - any of the rooms with
a green light on the door are available, and there is a wide variety of toys and
equipment to use.' Violetta headed for
the bar, where a handsome young man smiled at her. He was dressed relatively normally, except for
a fat collar around his neck, blood-red leather stark against tanned skin. She ordered a coke, then started to explore. The bar looked
relatively normal, although there was a raised stage area at one end that had
several metal frames with chains attached.
Booths and cubicles were around the walls, mostly empty, a few shadowy
figures present, their clothing glinting suggestively. At the back of the
room was a doorway, a bouncer glancing at her before standing aside to let her
through. The walls here were all bare brick,
post-industrial chic, with some likely ornamental pipes at ankle-level. Pictures hung on the wall - starkly erotic body-parts,
without heads or faces, torsos pressed together, hands rubbing engorged cocks
or probing into vaginas, or backs and thighs marked by lash-marks. Normally, it would seem like avant-garde
artwork, but in this context, it was more unnerving! Soft sounds echoed
around the passageway - orgasmic moans and sobs, the sound low enough that she
couldn't tell if it was real or recorded.
The scent of sweat and cum was real though, the space clearly well-used. She passed an open
doorway with a green light on the outside.
She looked inside - there was a metal-framed bed, with chains attached
to each of the corner-posts, cuffs ready to bind someone into place. A tilted shelf held a crop, a vibrating wand,
some metal clamps as well as some lube, and some cruel-looking metal
implements, all spikes and hinges, that she couldn't work out what they were,
and didn't want to find out. She picked
up a wooden paddle, feeling the weight of it in her hand, swinging it through
the air, tapping it against her palm. It
was sturdy and heavy, with holes cut through it to make it easier to swing -
being hit with it would hurt! She carefully put it
back and left, not wanting for someone to come inside and join her. Would they think that she was... available? There was a switch by the door and she
pressed it - the door slid shut, a bolt locking shut. Her heart burst for a moment, until she
pressed it again, the door sliding back open.
That must be how people indicated the room was taken? Apparently not everyone was into public
displays! As soon as she stepped
into the next room, she froze. Chill
blue light illuminated a female form, suspended in the centre of the room,
their arms extended, wrists chained to the ceiling. They were stretched out, toes just barely able
to touch raised metal blocks. A hood
covered their face, bleached-blonde hair emerging from the top in a long tail,
a metal ring holding their mouth open.
Most of their weight was taken by a metal pyramid, forcing their legs apart,
almost impaling their crotch. She could
see that the dark steel was stained, pussy-juice dribbling out. They were wearing a red mini-dress, pulled
even higher up by their posture. They must have heard
her, their head coming up, garbled sounds emerging from their forced-open
mouth, tongue waggling, as spittle stained the leather. As they wriggled, Violetta could see a tattoo
on their hip - the stem of a rose, the thorns picked out in bright red. They wriggled again, grinding themselves
against the metal - surely that must hurt?
She moved closer,
enjoying the way the woman wriggled around, only managing to hurt herself
more. As she wriggled around, Violetta
could see that she was properly impaled and wedged on the metal, the sharp-looking
ridge punishing soft, wet flesh. Her own
crotch tingled, the chastity belt seeming a blessing for a moment, if it
protected her from that sort of torture.
They grunted at her,
spittle flowing down their leather-wrapped chin and then splashing onto the
metal. 'Mpphhh!' Violetta couldn't tell
if they were enjoying it, or had been forced into that position. When she moved around them, they shivered,
head twitching uncertainly. From behind,
she could see that their buttocks were marked with red hand marks - they'd
suffered through a hearty spanking by the looks of things! She leaned forward,
trying to make sure that her collar could see everything - maybe this was
someone famous? She'd have to check up on
that tattoo - it was distinctive enough that if it was anyone famous, she could
use it to find them. When she pinched a
buttock, they squealed, twisting around, setting off a chain reaction of pained
shaking and jolting. Their legs were
fully taut already, unable to lift them any higher up to relieve the strain and
pain. A thrill went through Violetta as
she realised how utterly powerless they were - unless someone lifted them off
the block or released their wrists, all they could do was endure the pain. Her body was utterly exposed as well, vulnerable
to a whip or lash. Violetta ran nails down
their back - only lightly, but it still made them shiver and whimper, the sound
intensifying as she pressed harder, leaving marks in the exposed flesh. She stepped in closer, their legs straining and
tensing, unable to even try and kick her away without causing herself more
pain. The hood was held in
place by a buckled leather strap - Violetta reached around their body, fondling
a breast, enjoying their sudden intake of breath, a hissed squeal coming from
their mouth. When Violetta reached up
and touched the strap-buckle, their head shook about, grunting sounds and a
flow of dribble flowing out. 'Oh? This is a lovely sight.' Violetta pulled her hand back as a man's
voice spoke. 'It's considered rude to
reveal someone's face. At least someone
that isn't meat. And some would rather
not have it known they frequent such a place as this!' The speaker was a bulky,
rotund man, his expensive suit doing little to hide his bulging waistband. His head was enclosed in an elaborate boars-head
mask, bristles rustling as he moved, glass eyes staring at her. He stepped forward and then reached out,
grabbing at a breast. Meaty fingers dug
into soft skin, grabbing at a nipple, distending the flesh as he pulled it
towards himself then let go. The victim twisted
around, grinding themselves painfully against the metal edge again, their hair
flicking about as they shook their head and gasped again. 'I've not had the
pleasure of this one just yet. But she
seems like a nice little wriggler - I like them with some energy.' A casual back-handed slap against their belly
knocked the air from them, one of their feet rising up off the metal block,
making them punish themselves with their own weight. 'I'm not sure if she meant to lock the door
and await a lover, but she didn't, so that makes her fair game.' From how the woman was
shaking around, she was either grinding onto the wedge to pleasure herself, or
trying to protest. Hands continued to
maul her breasts, as the man continued to speak, his tone light and conversational. 'Although this
position does make her holes rather hard to access. Still, I think a strap across these lovely
breasts will be pleasurable. But you're
new, aren't you? I never forgot a shape,
especially not a shape as lovely as yours.' The mask turned
towards her, somehow managing to leer despite the lack of features, leaving
Violetta feeling vaguely repulsed. Fat
old perv! This was probably the only way
he could get laid. She glanced down - she
could see his erection through his trousers, bulging and straining at the
fabric. From the way his hands groped
and squeezed the breasts, it was no wonder the woman was squealing! 'I thought that this place
sounded interesting.' She moved around
the wedge, trying to keep it between herself and him - he was definitely
the type to go for a grope. 'I wasn't
expecting this to be quite so large.' 'Oh, this is
well-equipped, although I find the décor a little cold. And the girls are not quite as friendly as at
other establishments! Still, sometimes
it's nice to be a little outside one's usual patch.' He twisted and pulled on a nipple, drawing
out a squeal. 'Hmmm, I don't think this
one is quite fully trained. I wonder if
she has an owner? It's so hard to tell
these days, if a mark is their owner's stamp or just something they thought
looked good.' He used his other hand to
pat the tattooed flesh. 'Are you
owned? If you're looking for a master, I'd
be more than happy to help.' Her eyes darted to the
doorway - it was only a few paces away, but he was in the way, and the thought
of those fat, pudgy fingers mauling at her flesh made her feel grossed-out. 'He will be here
later.' 'Well, he certainly
lets you have a long leash. And must
have some connections - that style of collar is a rarity, and the maker doesn't
give them to just anybody. Although your
belt... I prefer the more solid panels.' She must have shown a
reaction on her face, her hands dropping to her waist, as he chuckled. 'Oh, I have an eye for these things. But if this is your first time, then you
should have a look around. And maybe reserve
a room for your master? I'm sure he will
want to enjoy your body. At least, I
assume it's a "he"? You can never tell
these days.' He moved to one side,
and Violetta took her chance, darting forward, skirting around to try and stay
out of grabbing range. 'Don't be a stranger!' She managed to make it
out as the victim squealed again, her flesh getting tormented as Violetta made
her escape, back into the hallway, striding quickly away, glad to get away from
him. And asking her if she had an owner!
Her hand came up to her collar, her skin
crawling as she twisted it on her neck, feeling it chafe on her skin, prongs
jabbing into the back of her neck. It
took her several moments to collect herself, suppressing the minor panic, telling
herself that she would be able to take it off later, when she left. If that tattoo turned out to belong to
someone famous, then she could make a fortune from them! Although she would have to take care to
remain anonymous! 'Mmmppphhhh!' A desperate squeal sounded from just out of
site, followed by a wet sploshing sound.
Reflected blue light rippled on the ceiling, like it was shining on water,
dappling weirdly. 'The subject has been
poorly behaved.' It was a woman's voice,
the tone cold and focused, sending a shiver of fear through Violetta. But it was probably better for them rather
than the fat perv! She approached the
room the lights were coming from and carefully peered around the edge of the
door. There was a large and open square pool
of water which was the source of dappled lights, with a female form suspended
above it. Or she thought it was female,
at least - none of their flesh was visible, their form outlined in gleaming
black latex, showing curvaceous hips and generous breasts. Their legs were bound together within the
latex, struggling and straining against the containment, fingers sometimes
appearing from beneath it as they writhed, unable to break free. Their head was covered
as well, without even any hair visible - something like a diver's helmet, a dome
of metal, the glass face-plate opaque black, a shoulder harness meaning that
they couldn't even move their head. They were slowly being
lowered towards the water, their feet breaking the surface of the water. They could move enough to kick droplets of water
around, making the reflected light dapple and shift. 'The actress should
remain quiescent. Or else there will be consequences.' The speaker was a
woman, wearing a sleek silk minidress.
It was backless, showing off a flame tattoo, swirling patterns over toned
flesh, the flames rising up towards a thick and golden collar around her neck. She had a headset on, a microphone in front
of her mouth and computer tablet in her hand, a black domino mask covering her
eyes. 'Pllepphphh!' As the latex-wrapped figure slowly descended,
the sounds of protest echoed around the room, coming from speakers in the corners. Was that the sound of the person inside the
suit? If so, then it sounded like they
were gagged, despite the full-head helmet, wet and pathetic burbles loud in the
small space. 'You have been given
certain benefits, in deference to your needs.
But the actress is owned.' 'Lephh mephh gphhhh!' The woman jabbed at
her tablet, and the descending figure writhed and spasmed, their fingers straining
out for a moment before the latex snapped them back into place, feet
powerlessly kicking about, the water creeping up their body. 'The actress should only
speak when ordered to.' Another painful
spasm, followed by pained-sounding gagged pleading, only barely comprehensible
as words. As the body slid beneath the
water, Violetta saw wires and tubes heading into the helmet - that must be
keeping them supplied with air? How long
were they going to be down there? The woman reached out
and ran her hands down the latex-sealed flesh.
The cold light gleamed off metal cuffs around her wrist, the same golden
tint as her collar. 'The actress must
learn her place. This one will return
after her pleasures, and hopes that the actress will have reflected upon
her actions.' Gleaming hips were now
sliding beneath the water - the lights made the surface opaque, making it look
as though the woman was disappearing completely, their stomach starting to vanish
into the liquid. Looking more closely,
Violetta could see that it wasn't entirely smooth against their flesh - there was
some kind of narrow harness beneath, shaping and pinching their flesh further. In the latex and the
helmet, would they even be aware of the water?
Would they be aware of the outside world at all? Other than the woman's voice, was she now utterly
isolated from the world? They continued to
descend, their struggles powerless to prevent them from descending further, water
lapping at their hips, then their breasts, before coming up over their neck,
and lastly their helmeted head and then they were gone. A few solitary bubbles rose up and then
popped, and then she was gone, nothing left except a few ripples in the water. The soft whimpers continued for a moment,
before cutting out with a harsh electronic "pop". Violetta moved to
retreat, her heel scraping on the floor.
The woman turned around, bright blue eyes making Violetta freeze in
place. She stared at Violetta, expression
cold. 'This one was not
expecting company.' Her eyes flicked over
Violetta's body, making her want to cover herself, making her feel even more vulnerable
when they fixed onto her collar. 'Would
the newcomer like instruction?' She
smiled, but that somehow made her seem even more terrifying, the expression far
from friendly. When she advanced, taking
several steps forward, Violetta instinctively retreated until she felt herself
back up against a wall, unable to retreat further. They were about the
same size, but Violetta felt powerless to fight back, the eyes cold and
powerful as they stared her down.
Fingers brushed up her chest, gently stroking a breast, before running
fingertips along her collar, tapping the metal.
Had she spotted the camera? If
she was discovered here, she'd probably not be allowed outside ever again! She'd be taken captive like that person, now
submerged out of view! She managed to push
the woman back, pushing at her before darting away, almost running, despite her
heels. She heard a sharply hissed intake
of breath from behind herself but didn't dare look back, striding as fast as she
could back to the main bar, hoping that it was now busy enough for her to hide
in the crowd. |