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Corporate Slave Chronicles: Cat Walks and Dog Shows
(Melissa DuVant)
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Corporate Slave
Chronicles: Cat Walks and Dog Shows Melissa DuVant Copyright © Melissa DuVant The right of Melissa
DuVant 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. Persephone Brimstone: Catwalks and Dog Shows Chapter One: Dressed to Thrill Chapter Two: Vengeance Served Hot Chapter Four: A Productive Morning Chapter Five: Submission and Obedience Training Ruby - Making of a Cum-Slut Preview Chapter: Just a
Normal Detention Thanks to Dillon for backing this! Persephone Brimstone: Catwalks and Dog Shows Chapter One: Dressed to Thrill Persephone walked down the catwalk, heel-to-toe, each foot in front of the other, making her hips sway. Her dress left one leg entirely bare except for the spiked garter belt, the material rubbing against her other thigh with each stride. The other swished against ankle-length silk, red material billowing against her leg, open-toed stilettos showing off her feet. Her torso was covered by a harness of leather straps, wrapping snugly around her waist, covering her nipples and supporting her breasts, along with a strap buckled around each arm. Her neck was bare, despite the best attempts of the designer to foist a collar on her - that had been a definite "no"! Cameras flashed, but she kept her gaze fixed ahead of her, making sure her face showed the appropriate expression of hauteur and dismissal, above the common rabble, making sure her posture was perfect. She could hear them, murmurs amongst the crowd, hopefully approving. As she walked, she could feel beads gently rub and stroke her pussy, sliding along, lubricated by her own juices, teasing against her clit, making every step a thrill. Her body was warming up, teased and pleasured, the hidden stimulation sending a thrill of pleasure through her. All the barely-glimpsed faces of the crowd looked up at her, their adulation and admiration adding depth to Persephone's desire. She made sure to properly stride and strut, showing off her bare leg, knowing that the other was being teased at by the skirt, and the way the harness hugged itself around her body was tight and delicious, making her want to be held for real - or to have someone bound and at her mercy! To have someone bound and blindfolded and gagged, so that she could control when they were touched, when they experienced pleasure or pain, just the thought made her pussy tingle, her juices making the beads slide more easily through her. Suspension was even better - making someone dangle from the ceiling, unable to fight back or resist in any way, no matter their strength. She reached the end of the catwalk and twisted, putting force into the motion, the skirt flicking and flaring out, revealing her other leg, skin shining under the spotlight. Then she posed, angling her shoulders, leaning over to show off how the harness twisted with her, close and tight to her flesh. Persephone allowed her face some more animation, gifting the audience with a cryptic smile. Her hair had been styled into a ragged short bob, the sort of deliberate mess that had taken a skilled worker time to achieve, golden chains dangling from her ears, falling against her neck as she twisted and posed. Black strands fell over her face until she tossed her head, clearing her vision. Then she leaned forward, legs crossed, the harness tightening over her back, the straps crisscrossing over her spine, compressing her breasts and pushing them up. She could just about see a photographer, who looked slightly distracted, and she pouted before blowing him a kiss, holding the position, shooting a flirtatious wink at him. Then she twisted on a heel to walk away, swaying her ass for the cameras, knowing how tight the dress was against her buttocks, the curves of flesh clearly visible beneath the fabric. The excitement between her legs was almost more than she could bear, her nipples hard against the top. After this, she'd have to have some personal pleasure time! Maybe see if any of the other models were up for some rough play... Although they tended to be very precious about not having their skin marked up, so any strikes had to be very careful and precise, delivered to places that couldn't be seen. As she walked back along the catwalk, another model was stepping out - they were wearing a short skirt, the hemline high enough to show off their suspender straps, and a mesh top with tape over their nipples, along with a leather harness, the straps connected by metal rings. Around their neck was a leather collar, blood-red and held shut with brassy buckles. Their heels were even higher then Persephone's, stiletto-spikes four inches tall. Despite that, she walked with an easy, seductive gait, brown hair falling to her waist, tied with small leather belts. A little too much, there, the hair-straps looking on the verge of falling off and probably held on with something else, but the woman was definitely attractive - she probably wouldn't have quite as good posture with a buttplug in her tight little asshole though! Her pale flesh would look even better wound around with rope, hemp leaving snake-print impressions on their skin when removed. Would she be a screamer, a beggar, or someone that just accepted their fate when put to the lash? Her lips would look better wrapped around a gag-ball, tears streaming down her face, garbled pleading coming from that beautiful face. But then Persephone was past her, stepping out of the view of the audience and into the changing room. She let out a long breath, hands coming up to start pulling the harness off. Other models were lined up to take their turn down the catwalk, one of them teetering on ballet-heels, leaning on the wall for support. Another was being forced into a corset, bent over and up against a wall, cords getting savagely pulled tight, their already-slender waist getting compressed down into something small enough that Persephone could put her hands around it. No wonder her face was looking a little strained, despite the thick makeup! The room was filled with the mingled scents of leather, latex and perfume, models in the process of getting changed, trying to squeeze into slick-smooth latex vests or trousers. She pulled the harness off over her head, tossing it over the back of a chair, feeling the sweaty bands peel off her skin, leaving slight impression-lines where they had pressed. Not as intricate as rope-imprints, and already fading. Those spotlights were hot, and the changing room wasn't much cooler, too many women crowded into too small a space! The skirt at least was easy to discard, a waist-band simple to untie, followed by unbuckling the garter-belt, leaving her naked except for her heels and beaded thong, feeling the air caress her thighs. Damn, she wanted to get herself off! At least no-one noticed her excitement, everyone too busy with their own things. What was she wearing next? There was never enough time to get changed! A dummy held a complicated-looking assemblage of metal, latex and lace - latex hot-pants edged and reinforced with metal, with a harness to cover the chest, along with lace panels between the straps. The black leather had intricate silver whirls and patterns along it, subtle lines on the hot-pants drawing attention to the wearers crotch. A heavy-looking belt-buckle was on the waist-band, embossed with more swirls and loops. She went towards it, trying to figure out the best way to put it on. 'Let me help with that.' A cut-glass English accent sounded, nailed fingers poking at the bare skin of Persephone's back, scraping down with just a little too much force to be an accident. She resisted the urge to hiss and recoil away, turning to see her rival - Maria. She forced herself to smile rather than growl at the bitch. Maria was wearing a leather catsuit, the cleavage in a steep "V", showing off the mounds of her breasts, and a belly-piercing, metal shining in the light. Ash-blonde hair moved as she flicked her head, eyes sharp as she stared at Persephone. 'It would have looked better on me, but I suppose you can wear it as well.' A manicured nail, bright red, stroked down Persephone's skin, between her breasts, leaving a faint red mark. 'Get a move on, unless you want to miss your cue!' There was no choice but to accept the woman's help, pulling the hotpants up her legs, metal clicking and clacking, the metal hemming rapidly warming against her body. It felt like there were wires throughout the material as well, although they were so snug and tight that movement wasn't much hindered. It was so tight that it pushed her beaded panties deeper into her, making her squirm her thighs together, trying not to let the pleasure show, despite how good it felt! The harness was even more complicated, interwoven belts and straps, everything needing to be in just the right places, Maria tweaking it around with more force than seemed necessary. She pinched and poked at Persephone's skin, "accidentally" squeezing a nipple as she shifted the straps around, her nails harsh and scratchy. There was a box of accessories as well, Persephone's earrings getting changed for silver studs, several rings coming out to complement the colors of the outfit. Then Maria pulled out a collar, a fat leather thing with several bright O-rings, and Persephone shook her head. No collars! 'It's all part of the outfit.' 'No collars!' Persephone glared at Maria, ready to shove her away if the woman tried to force it onto her, fully prepared to fight. She wasn't someone's property or a toy bitch, to be displayed in a collar! Their squabble was interrupted by the hiss of one of the stage-hands, who gestured Persephone over, as the previous model moved away, walking down the catwalk. Persephone shoved Maria away and took her place, twisting around to help the harness settle into place. She did like the way that it clung and embraced her, close to her body, holding her snugly, although the pressure between her legs was getting harder and harder to ignore - she'd have to take it slow, or run the risk of teasing herself to an orgasm on the catwalk! She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, holding her back up straight, proud of how she looked, her legs bare and smooth, still in the heels, her torso shrouded in the gauzy material between the straps, which framed her breasts, perking them up. She peered around the corner, watching as the previous model posed for the audience, bending over at the waist to let their top hang low, showing off their breasts, tight trousers showing off the curves of their ass. And then they stood up and started to walk back, Persephone readying herself, pushing her shoulders back, trying to ignore the faint throb of pain from where Maria had twisted her nipple. As they reached the three-quarters mark, Persephone set out, keeping her gait steady and even. The beads kept teasing and sliding around, nestling deeper inside of her, sealed within the tight pants, rubbing against her walls. She wanted more pressure there - a tongue, sliding and kissing around, soft and warm, pushing her all the way off. Having a squeal model between her legs was already a pleasure! At least the ones that didn't whine too much. The way the straps enclosed her body was arousing, like a long and deep hug, reaching all around her, warm and close. She reached the end of the catwalk and put her hands on her head, letting everyone see how the harness moved with her, emphasizing her hips and breasts. Then she bent over, and felt something along her back click loose, a buckle not properly tied, the weight of the front of the harness making it pull away from her body. She tried to straighten up but wasn't quick enough, the gauze pulling away from her flesh, her hands tangling around it, unable to prevent it falling away. As she stood up, it hit the floor in a clatter of buckles and leather, leaving her topless, breasts on display. Cameras flashed, and she felt a slow and terrible flush burn up her face, a deep humiliation settling into her bones. Paralysis and indecision flared inside of her, unable to determine if she should flee or stay, her flesh tinting pink with a flush of shame from the forced exposure, the beads still rubbing tightly against her. She managed to make herself smile, before composing herself enough to make one arm cover her breasts, trying to hide her sense of shame. She took a faltering step backwards, a heel catching on something and snapping, and she tumbled to the floor, hitting the ground heavily, the impact winding her. The spotlights shone into her eyes, dazing her, as she managed to rise to a crawl, trying to stand, one leg now several inches shorter than the other thanks to the snapped heel, slowly limping her way back to the changing room, the camera-flashes now making her feel shamed and degraded. The other models crowded around her, embracing her and trying to calm her. Through the crowd, she saw Maria, holding a small metal pin - one of the harness buckles! Her humiliation turned into a burning anger, and she felt her nails spiking into her palms as she tensed her fists. Persephone made herself smile, letting herself be embraced and comforted by some of the other models, glad of their warmth and softness. But now she would have to get that bitch back! Maria came over to offer her condolences, her words empty, smiling a little too much. Persephone went through the motions, still covering her breasts with one arm, wanting to collar them, here and now, before fucking them raw! But it would be more satisfying to take her and break her more thoroughly - she'd make a good puppy-bitch, down on all fours, with a tail swaying between her buttocks, arms and legs bound into leather. A t-shirt, soft and baggy, came from somewhere, settling over her body, and Persephone hugged it tightly around herself, glad of the comforting closeness of the other models, breathing in the scent of their bodies and heavy perfumes. She'd have to get her vengeance on that bitch! And soon. She would probably be easy enough to grab, as long as there was someone else to do the carrying... And maybe she could borrow a few things from her sister? Lilith had so much junk around, she wouldn't notice just a few things missing. She wriggled around, the hotpants digging into her skin. Why was there metal woven through them? It didn't show through, but she could feel it pinching her skin, a tight waistband and another cord running between her legs, the waistband above her hips. When she tried to pull on them, the reinforced waistband dug into her flesh. The buckle was metal, refusing to open, locked solid and shut. She looked at Maria, who smirked back, twirling a key between her fingers. The bitch! How the hell was she going to get these off? She could ask Lilith for wire-cutters, but then she'd never hear the end of it. She'd have to try and sort this out herself. And soon - there was no sign of any way of opening up the front, and she would have to go to the toilet sooner or later. Persephone felt at the metal - even with wire-clippers, she'd be at it for most of the night, pinching and snipping her way through it! And she wasn't going to let Lilith anywhere near her with a power tool. Chapter Two: Vengeance Served Hot Persephone pushed away from the crowd of models, glaring back at Maria before heading to her bag, hoping she'd bought some useful supplies - she must have some rope, at least! She heard applause coming through from the crowd, muted by distance, as the announcer went through a list of the models, and where to buy everything that had been shown. A bottle of champagne popped even before that had finished, someone chugging the froth straight from the bottle, before splashing it into an untidy collection of glasses, cups and mugs. She rummaged through her bags - some neatly-looped lengths of rope, and some other toys. Well, that should do for now. And Maria wasn't very popular with the other models, so they should be willing to help. Now she just needed to get the bitch nice and relaxed, to make this easier. She took a glass of champagne, taking a sip, feeling the bubbles slide down her throat, into her belly, before she picked her bag up, making sure she had everything ready, then let herself be reabsorbed back into the chattering cluster, feeling relaxed and soothed by their soft touches and scents and idle chatter. Maria approached, drinking her own champagne, smirking at Persephone. 'Enjoy the shorts? They're nice and tight. They suit your bum.' It was an effort of will not to claw at them, rake nails against their soft skin. But it would be more fun to take things a little slower, and make sure that Maria couldn't escape. She'd look good bound in rope, her ruby lips parted around tightly-wrapped cord, desperate and wriggling... 'Yes, they do look good. Although I prefer things a little more... artisanal. Actually, I have a gift for you. It's hand-made, I'm sure it'll look good on you.' She moved herself close to them, so close their breasts bumped together, both the same height. 'Turn around.' Maria looked uncertain, but the enthusiastic chatter of everyone else meant she had no choice but to obey. Persephone pushed down on her shoulders, making her dip down, ash-blonde hair rippling in shining waves. From her bag she took a collar, three-inch high leather, fresh and new. She'd been given it as a gift from someone else, but this seemed a good use for it! Sweeping Maria's hair out of the way exposed her long, elegant neck, pale flesh practically begging for a collar. Just the thought of it, of leather binding itself into place, made Persephone's skin crawl, making her want to itch and scratch her own neck, to feel that she was uncollared herself. But she managed to control herself, pushing the leather into place, wrapping it around their neck, buckling it as tightly as possible. It was tall enough that it stiffened Maria's posture, pushing her chin up, curving around the lines of her neck and shoulders. Maria stiffened, her hands coming up to feel the material, stroking the leather. 'Hand-crafted. Isn't it nice?' Unfortunately it wasn't a shock-collar! But it was complicated to get off, with the buckles hidden behind a fold of the leather. 'It suits you.' Not as much as dog collar would, and being bound onto all fours! 'Hmm, it does feel nice and smooth. Although it is a little tighter.' 'Oh? I thought you liked things like that. Maybe you should wear more latex?' Or a straitjacket! With Maria still facing away, Persephone took out a length of rope, pulling on it to unknot the bundle, before nodding at one of the models. They grabbed Maria, wrapping their arms around them in a controlling embrace, Persephone flicking the rope like a whip to get the whole length out. And then she looped it over and around Maria's chest, encircling her arms, pulling it tight, looping it around several times and then tying it off. Not the neatest of ties, but it would limit her movement. As Maria struggled to figure out what had happened, she took out another loop, wrapping this one around Persephone's waist and pulling her wrists behind her back, binding them with quick motions, letting the friction of the rope serve to bind it. Maria was starting to realize what was happening, twisting against the ropes as Persephone tightened them, sliding a cord beneath an armpit and then pulling it back through on the other side, then around their upper arms, feeling it slide along the top of their breasts. 'Hey!' Persephone slapped their backside, digging her fingers into the meat of their flesh. 'It's very fashionable right now. Down you go.' She gestured at the other model to stand back, and then gave Maria a shove, making them fall over. With their arms bound, they couldn't stop their fall, landing on a shoulder with a squeal of pain. |