EXTRACT FOR
Studying Submission
(Melissa DuVant)
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Studying Submission 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. Table of Contents Chapter One: An Isolated Institute Chapter Three: The Common Room Chapter Seven: The Student President Chapter Ten: Extra Credit Classes Chapter Twelve: Sting Operation Chapter Thirteen: Scheming and Relaxing Chapter Fourteen: False Pretenses Chapter Fifteen: Private Punishment Chapter Sixteen: Public Judgement Chapter Seventeen: The President's Gift Chapter Eighteen: Council Meeting Chapter Nineteen: Enforced Tuition Epilogue: Promotion and Harvesting Digital Slave Preview: A New Life
Starts Mmmm, pleated skirts and thigh-socks. Yummy! Chapter One: An Isolated Institute The hangover jangled Madison's head, her skull throbbing as the car drove up the winding mountain roads. She was thankful for the tinted windows, helping to block out the bright sunlight on steep, tree-filled hillsides. How much had she drunk last night? But it had been a great party - dancing from dusk 'till dawn, going through a blurry succession of clubs, her mind filled with the memories of flashing strobes and heavy bass. Groping hands moving over her butt, attractive men pushing themselves against her, sweat heavy in the air. Not that she'd gone all the way with any of them - although she might have blown one of them in the toilets? That had been after slamming down several shots of vodka, so it was hard to remember though. But the way that the men had looked at her, their eyes hot and covetous... Madison pulled her thighs together, a tired, head-throbbing pulse of lust washing through her. Was she even wearing underwear? A memory flashed up, of her pulling them off, holding the skimpy lace out, before rubbing them onto the face of someone, grinding against them and feeling their cock pushing against their jeans, before leaving them there, frustrated and denied. 'You need to be on your best behavior.' Madison groaned as her bitch of a stepmother spoke, primly perched on her seat. She was dressed in a close-fitting black dress and pearls, paid for with Daddy's money, of course. Money-grubbing bitch! Why Daddy had married her... 'You've been causing a lot of problems recently, so I convinced your father to take action. This is a chance to make a new start - a finishing school, far away from any... negative influences. And it's costing a lot of money, so I do hope you won't disappoint your father again. You're almost twenty, you should be behaving more like an adult!' If Madison hadn't been so hung-over, then she would have stuck her tongue out, but her mouth was dry and gungy, and all she wanted to do was sleep, maybe after a good fuck, or at least a session with a vibrator. She was twenty, yet was still treated like a child! The car turned around a mountain-edge, and a valley opened up - a picturesque mountain village was neatly contained around a sparkling lake, wood-framed houses set around a village square. Madison groaned - the place was tiny, and definitely wouldn't have any clubs or bars! Overlooking the village was an odd mixture of a castle and manor. Thick grey walls were softened with flower-covered vines, a blocky central tower rising up from behind it, windows reflecting the sunlight. But next to that was a castle-manor like something from a TV shows, a combination of sturdy grey stone and less military mansion. It was like something from a theme park, except real, with splashes of color - more flowers? - visible at the windows. Madison's stomach lurched as the car dipped down a steep slope, bumping her around in her seat. 'Here. Drink this.' Her stepmother handed over a bottle of water, the stuff looking cloudy, but Madison didn't care, opening it up and gulping it down. She'd need to go for a piss soon, but she needed liquids! The road through the village was cobblestones, the bumping around making Madison's entire body ache, her head too numb to form thoughts. All that she noticed through the village was that there seemed to be more young women than expected, all dressed in a uniform - knee-length black skirts and white blouses, with red blazers, most wearing tights. A uniform? She wasn't a kid! Although it did look tighter than most, highlighting their breasts and waists. The agonizing cobblestones continued, as they drove up towards the castle. The place was surrounded by large, open gardens, old-fashioned statues set amongst greenery, box hedges blocking her vision, with smaller buildings half-hidden amongst the estate. It was a relief when the vehicle finally stopped, the juddering throbbing no longer running through her bones, the motor clicking off. The door was opened, warm air and sunlight rushing in, Madison fumbling to put sunglasses on. Outside was stood a young woman, wearing the same uniform, a black choker around her neck, with black leather gloves on her hands. She had wavy and glossy black hair that fell partway down her back, tied at the nape of her neck with a leather band, and smooth brown skin. She looked at Madison, making her feel suddenly self-conscious - she hadn't changed from last night, and was still wearing a tight and short silver party dress, coming barely to her thighs, her heels discarded for the moment, her feet bare. Madison tried to stare back, but was too tired, looking away first. 'Madison, I believe? You are late, but the headmistress is expecting you.' They reached forward, grabbing Madison's arm and pulling her forward, out of the vehicle. She was too weak to resist, the woman stronger than she looked, leather-wrapped hands gripping tightly. Her bare feet touched onto a gravel floor, the stones spiking her feet. She yelped in pain, trying to shift her balance, but there was no way to get comfortable, as she danced around. Madison tried to jump back into the car, but the woman's grip was too tight. 'Let me go!' They changed their grip, pulling her closer, the gravel spiking her feet again, before wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her up, carrying her over a shoulder. It shoved into her stomach, making it hard to breath, and making her head tilt downwards against their chest. Madison's long, blonde hair flowed downwards, getting into her eyes, as she tried to crane her neck to look around, feeling one hand tighten on her bare ass. She almost barfed, the taste of bile rising up in her throat, and then the woman started to move. From the position Madison was in, she could see that they were wearing brown leather flats, black stockings sheathing her legs. Madison was carried inside, through a grand wooden doorway, grumpy-looking statues glaring at her from both sides. Another schoolgirl was sat behind a desk and nodded at them, before scribbling something into a fat leather book, an inside door then opening with a metallic click. Inside was revealed luxury - a red-and-gold rug covered most of the stone floor of a waiting room, the walls covered with expensive-looking paintings and ornaments. They lifted Madison off their shoulder, putting her on the floor, the rug beneath her feet, keeping one hand on her shoulder. Their gaze was strong, as they reached out and gently plucked Madison's sunglasses off her face. 'It would be better not to annoy the headmistress on your first day.' She looked down at Madison's clothing. 'More than you're already going to, at least.' They brushed their hand against Madison's face, tidying her hair a little, close enough that her body pressed against Madison's. They were wearing makeup, but it was very restrained, "natural" looking, save for smokey mascara circling her eyes, and her lashes were long and soft. The door clicked shut just after Madison's stepmother passed through, some device within the thick wood locking into place. There was a skylight, high above them, but only one other door, this one just as sturdy-looking. What was this place? Madison had been drunk when the bitch had been telling her about it, other than that she was being sent "away" to help with her "problems". The inner door opened, and another young woman stepped out. Her skirt was shorter, coming to just above her knee, but her face was red and ugly, with tears running down her cheeks. Her hands were held open, and Madison could see that her palms were covered with red marks, before she twisted them away, turning back to face into the room and bowing, deep enough that the back of her skirt rose up, revealing that her thighs were covered with more thin red marks, some starting to darken into bruises. After bowing, she turned back, her tear-filled eyes meeting Madison's for a second, before she scurried away, slamming against the door and having to hammer on it before it opened. The sounds of her footsteps retreated, going silent as the door shut once again. Madison swallowed, suddenly nervous, her bladder full. Could she go for a toilet break? But her guide took a firm grip and pulled her forward, fingers like iron, digging painfully into the bones of her wrist. She was yanked through the doorway, into the adjoining room. It was even larger than the waiting room, although the stone floor was cold on her feet - there was a large rug, arabesque patterns of red and blue and white, around an imposing desk. The walls were covered with dark wooden shelves, leatherbound books and ornaments in place. Wood rattled, drawing Madison's attention, to where a tall, slender woman was sliding a wooden stick into a pot holding a whole bunch of the things. She was dressed in an ankle-length skirt, her blouse showing off an hour-glass figure, corset wrapped around her waist, black hair scraped up into a bun. 'Mrs Kitherton? And you must be Madison?' She turned and walked back to her desk, sitting down on the heavy wooden chair in place behind it, the thing high-backed, like a throne. Of to one side was a strange ornament, what looked like hinged wooden blocks stood up atop a wooden base. Although there were windows, they were only narrow, the room filled with soft shadows, details of what was on the shelves impossible to make up. She wanted to lay down and rest, to sleep off the head-throbbing hangover! The woman dragging her around let go, standing back and out of sight. Madison's step-mother walked forward, seeming nervous herself. 'Yes. I heard about your... establishment from a friend who sent her daughter here. Reiko Ishikawa?' 'Oh yes, little Reiko. Yes, she took some work to shape, but she got there in the end. And is now happily married. It's always a delight when one of the students is taken as a wife. Now, this is... Madison, I believe?' Her voice hardened, any warmth draining away as she addressed Madison, looking her up and down. Madison stared back, trying to ignore the still-throbbing headache, now shot through with tiredness. She wanted to sleep! But she wasn't going to be a good girl for this old bitch, although she couldn't help but tug on the hem of the dress, trying to pull it down a little, to cover more of her thighs, hoping that it wouldn't be noticed that she had nothing on beneath. 'Yes.' 'Yes, Ma'am. While you are here, you will behave with respect towards your superiors. It would be a poor start if you were to begin with some demerits.' Her look was strong and powerful, forcing Madison to look away. 'Isabella will be your grande soeur - it will be up to her to explain how things work here. And to make sure that you are behaving appropriately. It seems as though you have been allowed a little too much freedom - that ends now. Your guardians have determined that this is the best for you. There is no escape from here - the sooner you accept that the better. Now, Isabella, take your petite souer in hand.' Madison heard a tearing sound, taking a moment to realize that it was the sound of fabric getting torn, leather-gloved fingers tearing at the neckline of her dress and ripping downwards, tearing it away from her body. Cool air suddenly kissed against her skin and she realized she was naked, forcibly stripped. Fierce shame burned through her, the prickling hot-cold flushes of humiliation. Her hands moved to cover herself, one over her crotch, the other over her breasts, as she tried to hunch over protectively. 'As you command, Headmistress Lehrerin.' A gloved hand gripped the back of her neck, pushing her forward. 'Hey! Let go!' Madison tried to wriggle away, but the grip on her neck was strong, the other student implacable. She didn't dare move her hands away, not wanting to show herself, as she was shoved forward. The large rug was warmer than the bare stone, but she didn't want to be naked! She tried fighting free again, kicking backwards, feeling her heel connect against a leg. A stiff hand chopped into her flank, just beneath her ribs, before she was simply picked up, lifted off the ground and back onto their shoulder. Madison bought her hands down, punching them in the back, but it made no difference, not even stopping their movement. Her senses spun and swam, hangover making her wanting to retch. As she inhaled to protest again, she got flipped through the air again, the back of her head knocking against the desk, dazing her. Her vision wavered, the dark wood of the ceiling flickering around as she stared up at the headmistress. She reached forward and twisted the wood, bringing it down over Madison's neck. When she tried to rise up, the wood didn't move, locking her into place. She couldn't see what was happening, but her hands were pulled back onto the desk as well, more wood hinging downwards, forcing her into a painfully arched position, feet shuffling awkwardly. 'Fuck off! What is this! Let me go!' She flailed with her legs, only stopping when a hand grabbed one of her breasts, squeezing tightly. 'Isabella was on the disciplinary committee - she is very skilled at keeping her fellow students on the straight and narrow. Now, Madison, I know that you are new, so I am willing to be somewhat merciful. Apologize to your grande soeur, or there will be consequences. As she will be in charge of you, I would advise humility.' 'No! Let me go! Stupid bitch.' A hand slapped her belly, her tit still getting crushed. 'Another word from you, and you will lose the privilege of speech.' 'You can't do this! Let me grphhhh!' The headmistress pushed a thick wad of cloth into her mouth, shoving it between her teeth. It immediately started to soak up her spit, more fabric getting pushed in, making her cheeks bulge out. 'Mpphhh!' 'Silence. Students that disobey are punished.' Madison tried pushing with her tongue, wanting to get her mouth free, but the headmistress tutted, before holding up some kind of leather strap, with a thick middle part and a bright buckle. The middle padded bit was placed over her mouth, before the strap was wound around her head. 'Mpphh! Lphhh!' There was no way to dislodge the fabric, and it was wicking away all the moisture in her mouth. 'Not the best of starts. Isabella, I leave the rest of her education to you. I was hoping to have her change into her new uniform, but her behavior shows that she is not yet worthy of it. Perhaps exposure to the alternative will render her more obedient? Now, I need to settle some formalities, and payment, with Mrs Kitherton. You may walk your new petite souer to her room.' She flicked Isabella's forehead, before touching some part of the restraint device and releasing it from the desk. She was pulled up to a standing position, her arms now locked into the yoke, in line with her head, elbows down. The wooden thing was so tight she couldn't slide her wrists out, her hands grasping at air. With her head locked into place, she was looking up, her stomach roiling, chest aching from the strikes and blows. Metal clicked, and the wooden block was detached from the upright bar. She was pulled upwards, bringing her face to face with Isabella. She tried to whimper through the gag, but couldn't manage more than a desperate whimper, before Isabella hooked fingers through a ring on the front of the wood. There was no way to resist, as she was dragged away, cool air sliding over her naked body. They dragged her forward, pushing the door open. Shameful prickles flushed through her, hot and cold, her body entirely exposed, her squeezed tit still aching. Isabella was moving fast, never giving Madison the chance to recover herself, pulling her back through the waiting room and the entrance hall, and then outside. The chauffeur saw her, smiling and shocked as he looked at her naked body, and she wanted to curl up and die of shame. She barely even noticed the biting gravel stabbing at her feet, as she was pulled forward, and then into another building. More young women, all in the uniform, were there, staring at the interruption. 'Npphh!' But there was no way to fight back or resist, and her mind was fuzzy and dazed. She lost track of directions, getting hauled through hallways and passageways, up a spiral staircase, knocking her toes against a steep step. Another wooden door was already ajar, leading to a room she barely glimpsed before getting pulled into a tiny, cell-like bedroom, with a small bed, a tiny window and a wooden chest. She was thrown onto the bed. 'I was hoping for a nice, polite petite souer. But it seems that I'll have to be rougher with you. Unfortunately, you seemed determined to act up - if you ever shame me like that in front of the headmistress again, then I'll be punished as well. And if that does happen, then you can be sure that I'll take it out on you.' As Madison tried to stand, Isabella straddled her, pinning her in place with her own weight. She reached over to the chest and pulled out some rope and a leather sack. The rope went through the loop on front of the wood, then around the bed-frame, getting tied short, dragging her head over the pillow. 'You can think about your future behavior. Afterwards, I'll be teaching you correct behavior. Harshly, if needed.' She squeezed a nipple, hard enough to make Madison squeak, then shook out the sack. The opening was wide, and it was then dragged over Madison's head, plunging her into darkness. It tightened around her neck, locking out the light, before Isabella stood up. 'Good girls get rewarded. Bad girls get punished. The better you behave, the more likely you are to graduate to a good home.' 'Mpphhh!' The rope held steady when Madison tried moving, making the yoke tighten around her neck, choking her. She spiraled down into darkness, giving in to the tiredness the rose up within her. A hand pushed down against Madison's stomach, making her acutely aware of how full her bladder was. The yoke was still around her neck and wrists, tied into place, but she could feel another weight on the stiff mattress, as a gloved palm pushed down against her belly. 'Mphhh!' 'No tattoos, that's good. And you seem to be in good health.' It was Isabella's voice, although muffled by the hood on Madison's head. Madison wriggled around, wanting to kick out, but fearing what retaliation that might bring, a finger tickling around her navel, before moving downwards, between her legs, lightly tracing over her pussy. 'And you're already shaved, which makes my life easier. One less thing for me to do. But I'm betting you're not a virgin, are you?' Two fingers started to tease her other lips, Madison trying to bend her back to wriggle away, before another hand pressed down against her belly again. 'It's time for you to learn to obey - you may have been a naughty, disobedient girl before, but here, you will learn to be better.' The hand moved away and then slapped down, hard enough that it took focus and will to not piss herself. 'And your education begins today. If you obey, then you will be treated well. If you disobey, then you will be disciplined - by me, and others. Now, are you going to be a good girl and obey, or do you need punishing already?' The hand pressed down, making the pressure in Madison's bladder increasingly urgent, a flow wanting to release itself. 'Mphhh!' She tried nodding, straining her neck against the yoke. 'Good. Then it's time for you to meet everyone. I'm going to untie you - if you act up, then you will be punished.' The hood was plucked from her head, and Madison could feel that her hair was a mess, all tangled and knotted. Isabella was sat on the bed, still in her uniform, crisp and smart. She reached over Madison's head and undid the rope, before pulling on the yoke, dragging Madison upwards. Madison couldn't resist, weakly letting herself get dragged from the bed, still naked, feeling miserable. She didn't like the look of the uniform, but even that would be better than nothing! She was pulled out of the cell-bedroom into the chamber outside, whimpering weakly through her gag when she saw she wasn't alone. There were two other young women there, both in the uniform - one had ash-blonde hair that curled around her face in a magnificent series of braids, her skirt so short that Madison could see the tops of her thighs, wrapped in dark tights. Already tall, high heels added several inches to her height. The other was of average height, with a black bob cut, their lips bright red against their pale skin, their skirt falling to their knees, legs bare. Their hands were bound in front of them, chained to a wide leather belt, like they were a prisoner. Both had thick black chokers around their necks, with a small metal charm hanging over their throats. The dark-haired girl was sat on a long wooden box, a thing that looked eerily like a coffin, with wheels on screws at regular intervals. One end had a tube coming out. Both of them bowed at Isabella, dipping their heads in respect, holding the pose for several seconds. 'This is Leona and Paisley. And there is also Regan, although she is currently... occupied, and hasn't yet adjusted to her new position. While you are here, then you are all under my charge.' She pulled on the yoke with enough force to make Madison stagger in front of her, placing hands on her hips to steer her. Madison flushed with shame, wanting to cover herself up, both the other women looking at her naked body. She squirmed her thighs, trying to at least hide her crotch from view. An arm wrapped around her waist, squashing her belly again, the piss inside of her threatening to leak out at any moment. 'Would you like to use a toilet?' 'Mpghh!' The thick wad of fabric made it impossible to even try and speak, but she nodded her head as she mumbled. 'Very well. Leona, go and fetch a chamber pot.' The blonde girl curtseyed, lifting her skirt high enough to reveal a metal plate beneath her tights, covering her crotch, before striding away to a rickety set of shelves, holding some old books along with pots and bowls. What had that been? But the prickling of her bladder was increasingly urgent now, threatening to overwhelm her if she didn't go soon. Leona returned with a ceramic bowl, a wooden lid flipped open. She placed it on the floor in front of Madison before stepping back. Isabella's hand pushed down onto Madison's shoulders, forcing her to squat above the pot. 'Thank you, Leona. Madison, relieve yourself.' She needed to go so badly that she didn't care she was being watched, it was a relief to relax and let the piss flow out of her, streaming down into the pot, pale yellow against white porcelain. It kept flowing, filling up the bowl, but leaving her relieved and empty. As soon as her bladder was empty, her sense of shame returned - she wasn't just naked and exposed, but she'd just pissed herself in front of complete strangers! She could smell the sharp and rancid piss, just in front of her, the other women smiling, looking far too smug. The dark one, Paisley, reached out and twisted one of the dials on the box - was that a whimper she heard from inside it? Was someone in there? 'Now, let me explain a few things. There is a very strict hierarchy here - you, and these two as well, are my petite souers, and I am your grande soeur. That means I am responsible for you, and for guiding, shaping and protecting you. I have the authority to punish you, should it be needed, and to reward you as well.' Her grip was tight on Madison's shoulder, grinding bones together. 'You might be used to doing what you want, but now you will be trained, into being a good little girl, sweet and obedient. So you will obey me, and, in return, I will protect you. There are those here that are a lot less kind than I am.' Madison tried to stand, but Isabella's grip was too strong, keeping her down on the floor, near her piss. 'You are the lowest one here. You will obey especially me, but also these two, whenever you are told to do anything. Any brattiness or slowness to obey will result in punishment.' Paisley giggled and twisted a dial again - that had definitely been a pained whimper from inside the box. Who was inside it, and what was being done to them? 'While there are lessons, most of your education will be supplied by me, or if I loan you to another for training. Given time, you will improve, and then you may be found worthy by an outside sponsor. But while you are here, you will need to show respect to your betters. To start with, you need to prove your obedience, to show that you know your place. A kiss of submission. If I ungag you, then will you be a good girl? And then, as a treat, I will let you eat and drink. Oh, and give you your uniform. I'm sure you would prefer clothing, rather than being paraded around naked again? A few of the older girls have already expressed an interest after your display - without me to protect you, then you're likely to end up being used by them. So, are you willing to swear yourself to me, as my petite souer?' 'Mphh!' Madison nodded, desperate to be out of the yoke, and wanting some clothing at least. 'Good girl.' A gloved hand patted her on the head, tidying her hair slightly. 'Let's get that gag off, so we can use that pretty mouth of yours for something more pleasurable.' The gag was buckled on tightly enough that it took her several attempts to release it, the leather pad sliding off her face. Fingers pushed between her lips, dragging out the spit-sodden fabric, handing it over to Leona. 'Have that washed and returned to the headmistress. Now, Madison, stay down there.' She let go of Madison and walked in front of her, sitting down on the box. Paisley pushed herself closely against Isabella, laying a head on her shoulder, Isabella stroking her knee. She spread her legs and pulled her skirt up, revealing that she was wearing stockings and suspenders, her crotch bare. 'Show that you belong to me, Madison. Use your lips and tongue to prove your allegiance. Otherwise I will throw you into the hallways and let you be claimed by whoever wants you. Crawl forward, like a good little puppy.' Madison tensed up, wanting to resist, but the threat of punishment was too much. Would they really just throw her out? She didn't know anyone else here, didn't have anywhere she could go for protection. She was still naked and in the yoke, her arms bound and useless, meaning she couldn't protect herself. She crawled forward on her knees, feeling the hard, smooth stone flooring press back against her skin, her gaze focused on Isabella's shaven slit. The woman purred, sounding satisfied, turning her face to kiss Paisley on the lips, Leona tutting in annoyance. Everything seemed to pass in a trance, Madison dropping her head, Isabella having to lift her legs and hook them over the yoke, dragging Madison's face tightly into the fork of her legs. She smelt clean, the odor of her body sweet and fresh, a light citrus scent surrounding her. Madison stuck her tongue out, poking it against soft thigh-meat. 'You've never done this before, have you?' 'No...' Isabella's hand reached forward, grabbing Madison's hair and dragging her close in. 'Time to learn, then. Get your tongue in, nice and deep. Do a good job, or I'll be disappointed, and I'm sure you wouldn't want that, would you?' Her nose bumped up against Isabella's flesh, her tongue sliding around before finding the cleft of her pussy, sliding into the woman. They were already slightly wet, Madison slobbering her tongue around, wriggling it against their folds, able to taste them fully. She'd never done this with another woman, she only liked men! But the grip on her hair was tight, making it impossible to pull away, the taste of sweat and Isabella's body getting stronger as it fell over her tongue, overpowering her senses. 'Keep working harder! A good girl would have her grande soeur fully wet by now.' Madison tried working harder, but didn't know what she was doing, trying to ignore the skin-prickling bites of shame as she was made to eat the woman out. She started sucking with her lips, pushing her tongue even more deeply into them - she'd barely even watched any lesbian porn, what was she meant to be doing? Isabella's legs pulled her in closer, crossing over at the ankle, Madison's face now smushed so close in that it was hard to breath at all. She kept twisting her tongue around, trying to find places that provoked a response, keenly attentive to Isabella's increasing gasps and moans. At least she seemed to be reacting now, although she could also hear the sounds of kissing and the rustle of fabric - was she making out with Paisley as well? What was this, some kind of sick lesbian love-nest? But she couldn't fight back or resist, still trapped in the yoke, wriggling her tongue around as the hand kept her hair tightly held. Then there was a vaguely disappointed sigh, and she was pushed away, now able to see more properly, Paisley's lips locked against Isabella's before they broke apart. 'You need a lot more training, petite souer. That is far from satisfactory! Even if you are being trained for male use, a good girl should be able to please everybody. But you have shown your loyalty, for now. I would ask you to pleasure Leona and Paisley, but they are currently prohibited. And Regan, well...' She twisted around, moving away from a disappointed-looking Paisley and giving a dial a savage twist. A groan came from inside the box, following by a padded thud, but the weight on top of it kept it from moving. 'I'm sure you will meet her soon - and she will hopefully be well-behaved. As it is, she does rank above you, but if you're a good girl, that won't last long. Now, your uniform. Would you like some clothing?' Madison nodded. 'Yes!' Isabella slapped her across the face, but not too hard. 'Yes, please. A good girl should be respectful and polite at all times, especially to her superiors.' 'I'm sorry! Yes, please.' 'Better. Stand.' Madison obeyed, the taste of Isabella still strong on her lips. Leona stepped into sight, now holding a small wooden chest, the top open to reveal clothing, a neatly folded uniform. Isabella reached into her cleavage, tugging on a chain-necklace to pull out a small bundle of keys as she pushed Paisley away and stood up. It was below her line of sight, so Madison couldn't see what was done, but something clicked and the wood released her from it's grip, one end of the yoke opening up. She pulled her arms down, not wanting them to be trapped again, feeling the weight come of her shoulders as it was removed and propped up in a corner. Leona and Isabella worked together to dress Madison - plain black bra and panties, a knee-length black skirt with a double golden band just above the hem, and then a white blouse. She was too numb to do anything other than let herself be dressed, a tie getting knotted around her neck, a length of red material slashed across with black bars. The blazer was a smart red, with a badge emblazoned over one breast. It was good quality, and fit her well, soft against her skin. Even the shoes - dull, plain brown shoes without a heel - fitted well. Having clothing again made her feel a little more comfortable, less exposed and vulnerable, although the memories of being made to slide her tongue into someone else's body, made to pleasure them, were still strong and vivid. 'You'll need this as well, to show that you are under my protection.' Isabella shook a strip of dark leather at her, putting her fingers under Madison's chin to tilt her head backwards, before buckling it into place. The leather made her skin crawl, too tight and close around her. Then Isabella held up a little metal badge - it depicted a rosebud, half-bloomed, a delicate pink color - and clipped it onto the front of the collar, the thing dangling against her throat. 'Don't lose it, unless you want others to think that you don't have any allies. That would likely not end well for you.' Isabella leaned in, kissing her on the lips, close and firm, her breasts squashing against Madison's. 'Good girl. You see how much easier things are if you just obey? Good girls get treats, naughty girls get punished.' She kicked backwards, slamming her foot against the box, hard enough to make it skid slightly. 'Now, let's get you some food and water, and then I can show you your timetable and introduce you to the people you need to know. Don't go wandering too far on your own - that mark will give you some protection, but not much. And a pretty little thing like you, well, there's a lot that might like to claim you.' It seemed easier, and safer, simply to obey without struggling, although she didn't like the uniform, or what she had been made to do already, as Isabella stepped away and kicked the box again, before picking up the chamber pot. She poured it into the funnel, whoever was inside struggling hard enough to make the wood shake and vibrate. 'Time to come pay your respects. Be polite, and if you embarrass me at all, then I'll shove the biggest dildo I can find up your asshole. Leona, gag her. Oh, and some shoes. Something nice and simple, I think.' It was Leona's turn to approach, holding up the leather gag. Madison clamped her mouth shut, or tried to, but a combination of nipple-pinches and sheer force resulted in the leather panel going over her lips again, although at least her mouth wasn't stuffed this time. Chapter Three: The Common Room The place was a maze, several different buildings that had been connected haphazardly, and without Isabella to lead her, Madison was sure she would get lost. The choker, and the attached token, weighed heavily around her neck and throat, although she wasn't the only one with one - several of the other students she passed seemed to have one, although sometimes the collars were heavier, some thick enough to force the wearer's neck to be high and stiff, or even one that was three inches high and metal, that looked brutally uncomfortable. But the other students seemed to steer clear of Isabella, stepping aside to let her pass, with Leona and Paisley both walking a few steps behind her. They were walking towards large double-doors, a student nonchalantly leaning on the wall, her skirt short enough to show off a spiked garter-strap, a spiked collar around her neck. One of the rose-charms dangled from her collar. What was this place? But she nodded at Isabella, before opening the door for her. Something was hanging from her belt - a handle attached to a loop of leather, resting on her thigh. Inside was a... coffee shop? Although that wasn't quite right - there wasn't a menu on the wall, nor was there a bar, or anywhere else to order drinks from. But there was a selection of chairs, couches and tables arranged into loose circles, many of them occupied, and women carrying trays filled with steaming mugs and sweet treats. Those sat down were dressed in their school uniforms, but those walking around and serving had different outfits - short, black dresses with white lace poking out from beneath, showing off their stocking-wrapped legs, the maid outfits fitting in strangely well with the surroundings. The air was filled with the low buzz of conversation, soft music coming from a string quartet in the corner. There must be several dozen people here - were they all students? Even though they were in uniform (except for the maids) there was a strange amount of variation - two others, with a similar "punk" aesthetic to the one on the door were sat on other sided of a woman wearing a longer, more covering version, her own skirt ankle-length, legs stretched out, using another student as a foot-rest. She was talking to a woman with brilliantly bleached blonde hair, her blouse low-cut, showing off the edge of her bra, a red leather collar around her neck, a metal plate over her throat catching the light. On the other side of the room was a brunette, surrounded by a silent semi-circle of... attendants? Hangers-on? Whatever they were, they were knelt on the floor as she took a sip from her cup, before gesturing at one of them to rise. A hand went up on the far side of the room, Isabella waving back and walking towards them. Several of the others had noticed Madison, and were now staring at her - one, a short girl with an impressively slender waist, made cupping motions over her chest and giggled, making Madison blush in the memory of her forced naked walk. How many people here had already seen her bare everything? She moved, not wanting to get left behind - she didn't know anyone here, or what they might do to her! Isabella was striding confidently towards a small group - their uniforms seemed to be marked out by having rose-bud badges on their blazer-breasts, and thin black chokers around their necks, all of them slender and petite. There was only one exception, sat in the middle of the couch, with auburn hair in a short bob, her neck bare and her blouse open enough to show off a chain necklace holding keys hanging between her breasts, the trim of a lacey bra visible. Her hands were hidden in leather gloves, the same as Isabella's. Isabella dipped her head, Paisley and Leona both curtseying, lifting their skirts. Everyone stared at Madison, and she made a vague bobbing motion. This wasn't a European thing, was it? This was weird, right? 'So, this is the new girl.' Their voice was lightly-accented English, a slight burr there that Madison couldn't place. 'Not the best of arrivals, although I suppose there's been worse. I remember your first day, Sophia. Your backside was a lovely red after the headmistress was through with you!' One of the other girls flushed, face blushing furiously. 'We could hear your squeals. And even after that, you took quite some taming! But aren't you happier now, under my charge?' They kept their head bowed,
face still humiliated red. 'Yes, grande souer Marianne.' 'So obedient! Almost a shame, you were a delightful
screamer, spread over the rack. But you
learned to obey soon enough, and now you're good and loyal.' Isabella moved to sit
down, but Marianne shook her head. 'Stay
standing. I've heard rumours that you've
been having certain conversations.
I would so hate for you to require any disciplining, or to backslide on
your current loyalties. I do hope that you
won't require handing over to the disciplinary committee for questioning. Some of them are still a little sore over the
manner of your leaving. Perhaps you ' 'I... You know I'm loyal!' Isabella looked more annoyed than concerned,
but her arms still came up, protectively crossing over her chest. 'Some of the others on
the council think your loyalties may be wavering. A sign of your fealty is needed.' She held out a hand to one of her cronies and
clicked her fingers, and they handed over a metal bulb, fattening towards the
middle, with a round base and a key stuck into a lock on the base. The rest of the room
went silent, all attention now on this conversation. 'It would be easier if
you were to do this yourself, or do I need to be more... forceful?' She turned the key, the bulb opening up and splitting into three parts before clicking
shut again with another turn. There was a long pause
before Isabella answered, her shoulders tense and rigid, holding her hand
out. 'If that is what is required, then I
shall obey.' 'Good girl. I want to see your face as it goes in.' Madison could see that
the bulb was shiny, coated with some fluid.
Isabella twisted around, lifting up her skirt,
the other woman reaching out and grabbing at her panties, tearing them away. Isabella's face was starting to colour, her lips
tight, as she placed the tip of the bulb against her anus, having to twist
awkwardly to do so. It started to slide
into her, everyone else watching as she ass-fucked herself with the metal
bulb. Madison shivered, imagining what
it would be like to have cold metal shoved into her ass, filling her up. She'd been fucked
before, but not back there! But it slid in, making
steady progress before it passed some tipping point, Isabella's tight asshole spreading wide before the fattest part of the bulb
was inside of her, and the rest was consumed.
The base of the plug nested between her buttocks, metal bright, the key
dangling downwards. The other woman
reached forward and turned the key - Isabella winced, exhaling deeply. Was the metal plug now spread out and expanded
inside of her, like a brutally invasive flower?
Without the key to close it up again, then Isabella wouldn't be able to
remove it, would she? Marianne pulled the
key out, adding it to the bundle around her neck. What were they - was each one a buttplug inside of someone?
Or were they for something else, something even worse? Marianne gripped the base of the plug,
twisting it around, making Isabella wince and gasp, her ass still on display. 'Well, I suppose that
is convincing enough. I will convey word
to the council - I'm sure they will be glad to know that you aren't wavering
again.' She moved aside, patting the
seat. 'Now, sit. And I suppose your followers can kneel.' Leona and Paisley dropped
to their knees, Madison slowly following their example, although the position
was stiff and uncomfortable, putting her beneath all the other women, who were
comfortably sat on the couch. From the awkward way
that Isabella was moving, the plug was making its presence known, the way she
sat very slow and careful. 'So, you've been granted
a new one to train? I suppose after you
managed to deal with Regan. She seemed
so loyal, but betrayed us all. Although
I don't see Regan?' 'She is currently considering
her previous choices. I'm sure she will be
more amenable when she has had time to think.
I'm sure she will be obedient when the time comes for her next
examination. And I'll make sure she doesn't
do anything she shouldn't.' 'See that you do - Regan
has a pretty mouth, it would be better if it were to be used for pleasure
rather sealed behind a gag.' She turned
to look down at Madison, her hip bumping against Isabella's, who winced again from
the forced movement. 'I rather preferred
you with no clothes - you have a nice body.
I wonder how well you will take to the training? Isabella does have a knack for it, despite some
of her past mistakes. Although it seems
only fair to warn you that her protection may be less absolute then she would
like to think - it really would be a shame if you were to be sent for more extensive
rehabilitation. That face of yours would
make you very popular down there, although you might not be so pretty afterwards.' Isabella twisted her hips,
pushing back at Marianne, then raised a hand.
A few moments later, one of the maids approached. Their skirt was short and fluffy, petticoats
swaying as they moved, drawing attention to their legs and thighs, the scent of
sugar and cake coming with them, making Madison's mouth water. Isabella made an
order, the maid bowing and walking away, their lace petticoats fluffing out. Madison's legs were starting to ache, the kneeling
position uncomfortable. Although no-one
talked to her, she was attracting attention, sly glances
and whispered comments she couldn't hear.
What was going on? What was this
place? And what power did Marianne have
over Isabella to make her do something like that, in public? Isabella's face was still slightly red, and
she seemed to be squirming in her seat - if the thing in her ass was fully
extended, then it must be stretching her out inside. It didn't take long for
the maid to return, carrying a tray filled with steaming mugs, and several
cupcakes. The smells made Madison's
mouth water behind her panel-gag, her stomach giving a rumble. Marianne looked down at her, reaching out a
leg to poke her with a foot. 'Has she earned herself
some involuntary fasting already? She really
must be a naughty girl! Or have you
forgotten to feed her?' 'She's actually been good so far.
At least, after her initial... error. Come.'
She crooked two fingers at Madison, who shuffled forward on her knees,
not sure what was happening. Isabella planted one foot
onto Madison's thighs, before tilting her head back and unbuckling the gag. Madison swallowed the thick wad of spit that
had built up, Isabella patting her on the head. The maid took the
items from her tray and placed them on a table - she was bent over enough that
her skirt rose up, letting Madison see the metal locked
around their crotch more clearly - metal wires pushed their buttocks apart,
connecting to a strong-looking waist-band.
Did Marianne have the key for that as well? Isabella picked up a cupcake
and pinched off part of it, gripping Madison's jaw with her other hand,
squeezing hard. She opened her mouth, not
wanting the pain of resisting, and the cupcake lump was dropped in. It was soft and
fluffy, melting on her tongue in a delicious haze of sugary sweetness. She made an involuntary sighing noise, trying
to savour the taste as long as possible. 'Good girls get
treats.' She picked up the small plate
the cupcake was on and put it on the floor.
Both Leona and Paisley started to move forward before she raised a
finger, freezing them in place. Paisley was staring at
it, licking her lips, body tense, before Isabella nodded. 'You may eat.' They bent over, not
using their hands, instead leaning forward and biting
at it, taking nibbles from the side, breasts squashing against the floor, butts
in the air. The cupcake didn't last
long, as their tongues both licked against the plate, and each other, their
faces kissing together. One of Marianne's attendants
reach forward for a mug, but knocked it with her sleeve. It fell over, splashing dark coffee over the
wooden table, the stuff slopping to the floor.
Some of it splashed onto Marianne's tights, staining the black material
even darker and making her wince in pain.
Melissa DuVant writes a variety of BDSM-inspired stories, such as Digital Slave and is one of the co-writers of the St Michael's University setting. When not writing, she is generally planning RPG campaigns, reading or cooking. The cover was created by Formant. He is a web artist, specializing in the harsher side of fetish and kink. Digital Slave Preview Chapter: A New Life Starts Present Day The pressure on her shoulders was intense, wrists cuffed together behind her back, a chain running to the ceiling and pulling them up. This forced her into a painful strappado position, unable to properly stand without wrenching her shoulders out of position. Her mouth was full, a large sphere of black rubber strapped between her lips, slow trickles of spittle flowing over her red-painted lips, down her chin. Around her neck was a collar, a chunky band of bright metal, chunky metal bracelets of the same material on her wrists. Ever since she had started wearing it, she had become intimately familiar with the devices it contained - at the moment it was as loose as it got, although it could tighten without notice to choke her, or shock her. She had lost track of how long she'd been held in this position - the apartment had no clocks, and the windows were blacked out, the time of day impossible to tell. Her slender body, something that she had always been proud of, even used to draw attention to herself, was dressed in a silk blouse and black pencil skirt. In the pale glow of emergency lighting, the fringe of a lacey bra could be seen beneath the blouse, her skirt short enough to show the patterns on her stockings around her thighs. If it wasn't for the collar, gag, and position, she could have been any office worker. She whimpered, trying to shift, find some element of comfort. How long had it been since she had been here? Days, weeks, months? She was kept here, every element of her life controlled, only allowed out in what the owner permitted. She had nothing of her own, everything she had, everything she had become, was what the owner desired. But she had never seen the owner, her owner. She had been shaped and moulded, without ever even being touched by him. She twisted in her bonds, thoughts of her previous life bubbling upwards. She had had a name then. Been able to go out. Had control of herself, been able to choose her own clothing. What had her name been? Her twisting strengthened as she twisted, the chain softly clinking. Her collar beeped, and she froze in fear. It tightened, not even to choke her, but a warning. Was her owner watching? She knew there must be cameras, watching her, knowing when she was bad or good. But he couldn't read her mind, could he? The AC whirred into life, cold air beating down on her, her clothing doing little to protect her. The memories died within her as the cold air blew, until her stirring stopped. The thing between her legs briefly stirred into life, an empty promise of warmth. Not long enough to give her any relief or pleasure, simply a reminder that she lacked even the control to pleasure herself. She shuffled awkwardly, stilettos clicking on the floor. If she was good, if she managed to maintain this position for long enough, maybe she would be allowed to sleep on the floor, rather than restrained. Maybe she would be allowed out - her clothing chosen for her, her mouth sealed behind a gag, but outside, where she could pretend to be a person. The pressure in the air changed, the AC shutting down. The door, path to the outside world, always locked to her, clicked open, light spilling in. She was bound facing away from the door, unable to see who was standing there. Was it the owner? Or someone else? She didn't dare twist to see, in case she was punished for it. The shadow moved closer, footsteps seemingly as loud as thunder. A hand reached out, slapping her ass in a possessive way, and she couldn't restrain herself from squeaking. Had her owner finally come to claim her, or was this someone else to service? Either way, she had to please them. She parted her legs slightly, hoping they would find her pleasing. *** Days, Weeks
or Months ago... Sophia's heart sank, blood turning cold. She pressed refresh, in the desperate hope that things would be different. They couldn't have dropped that fast. The screen reloaded - everything was in the red. Deep into the red. Could she move money from anywhere else? No, everywhere was tapped out. Everything had been riding on this. But how could everything have dropped like that? The market shouldn't move like that, something should have gone up. She refreshed again. It was even worse. She'd bet her apartment on this, everything she owned! She felt a presence, before a hand touched her shoulder, nails pressing against her flesh through her thin blouse. 'Go home for the rest of the week, Sophia. We'll talk about this soon.' The woman squeezed her shoulder, red-painted nails digging in harder, just for a moment. Then she turned and left, heels clicking against the trading room floor. Sophia glanced around, seeing rumours already spreading amongst her colleagues, looking at her with pity or contempt. She ignored the sting of pride, trying to look calm and collected, picking up her handbag and left the office. She went to get drunk. A fancy bar, piano playing, no shortage of people willing to buy drinks for her - even without getting changed, her silk blouse, unbuttoned to show the edge of her bra beneath, tight pencil-skirt short enough that the tops of her stockings flashed into view as she walked, or crossed her legs were enticement enough. She might have lost big today, lost everything she owned, but all she needed was some seed money to get started again. Who could she hit up for a loan? Stephen was normally a sucker, especially if she worse something tight and black. And he wasn't even pushy enough to demand sex, just a quick handjob was normally enough. Although he was out of town, having taken a new job in Hong Kong. Maybe Ken? Although his latest wife was a pushy bitch. Another drink appeared, the spirits burning into her stomach, her thoughts turning into alcohol-infused mush as night fell. *** She awoke, in sunlight. Crisp sheets wrinkled beneath her hands, discreet buzz of a phone alarm vibrating nearby. Where was she? She blinked sleep from her eyes and looked around - not a place she recognised, but it oozed wealth. Sunlight streamed in from full-height windows, showing views over a park. The bed was massive, what looked to be a walk-in wardrobe opposite, floor-length mirrors, grey and chrome drawers and cupboards. And she was naked. Well, if it was whoever owned this place, then she had done well - she rolled over, finding the bed empty. She didn't feel satisfied, so they must have been too drunk to have sex. The rest of the apartment was small, but the view outside the window showed that it was right in the heart of the city, worth several million, at the least. The whole place shared the same chrome-and-steel colouring, probably designed by some tech-bro nerd, everything electronically controlled, both austere and massively expensive. A screen blinked on, displaying a message. Had to go to work, but last night was great. This place was my ex's, feel free to crash here. She was about the same size as you, use her clothes if you want. Well, this seemed to be quite fortunate. She had no recollection of who the mysterious owner was, but they were clearly wealthy, which was what she needed right now. Everything was chrome and metal, custom-fitted and expensive. Near the entrance was a strange piece of modern art, dangling from a chain on the ceiling- a roughly female shape of solid black plastic, a head, the swell of breasts and curve of hips, a hole for a mouth and another between the legs, edges stained slightly. She'd always preferred more classical art and sculpture but having such a thing on casual display showed vast wealth. She looked at more closely - there was a tiny hairline crack around the edge, the thing cast in two halves. She gave it a gentle shove, setting it swinging. Something tickled the edge of her hearing; was that a moan? She must have imagined it, an apartment like this would be fully sound-proofed. She returned to the walk-in wardrobe, the door sliding open with an electronic beep. Inside was a carousel device filled with clothing, so only a single outfit was accessible at any given time, like a giant vending machine. More sealed lockers lined the walls, all currently shut. The current outfit was very much in line with her own preferences - sleek and sexy office-wear, a skirt, tight and black and short, a silk blouse, along with a lace thong and bra. One of the lockers popped open, revealing a pair of very high heels and some stockings. The ex must have been about the same size as her, conveniently. Before dressing she had a shower, luxuriating in the steaming hot water, rubbing herself down, feeling the fug of last night retreating under the steam and heat. When she was done, she applied her makeup - this ex had similar coloration as well; the owner must have a distinct 'type'. Well, that would make him easier to butter up for some money. With her lips tinted red, mascara around her eyes, hair pulled back into a ponytail, she felt decidedly more in control, more like herself, especially when she dressed as well. She admired herself in the mirror, blowing herself a kiss. Another message blinked onto the screen in the main room, accompanied by a faint chiming noise. You lost your phone last night, here's a replacement. I loaded my number onto it. A drawer opened with a pneumatic pop. Inside was a smartphone, sleek, black and unbranded, the sort of prestigious item normally seen in the hands of millionaires. She pressed her thumb against it, as it unlocked for her - even the programming was something she didn't recognize, although most of the functionality appeared to be locked. There was only one number listed: 'Owner', with no other details listed. Well, he had been so nice, he deserved a treat, and something to keep him keen and friendly. She found the camera function and posed for a selfie, tweaking her blouse to make sure it showed her cleavage, making a seductive face. Thanks for
last night "owner", you were great. See
you soon! She took several pictures, making sure to find the best one before hitting 'send'. Then she explored the rest of the apartment. It was small, little more than the bathroom, a kitchen-diner, and a box room, with the colossal bedroom and walk-in wardrobe taking the largest amount of space. This close to the center though, it must have cost a fortune - she took her new phone out and tried to access the internet, to look up the value, but couldn't find any way to access it. All the draws in the kitchen had an RFID scanner, remaining stubbornly locked, surfaces too smooth to pull open. Denied there, she went to the wardrobe - it would have been a decent-sized room by itself, but the carousel device took most of the space, leaving only a small space to get changed. She rotated through the other outfits - beyond a variety of office-wear and gorgeous (and expensive!) evening gowns, there was a variety of more 'special' outfits - a latex nurse's outfit, several skin-tight catsuits, a schoolgirl outfit, a shiny nun's habit with holes at the crotch... Well, those wouldn't be getting used, at least not on her. She liked to be in charge, not the one being dominated. She smiled at past memories - keeping someone on the edge, just shy of climax, could be a powerful incentive when negotiating. Although she hated the feel, taste and scent of cum, so always tried to slip a condom on first. Her stomach rumbled - she hadn't had anything to eat since yesterday. She went to the front door, running her hand against the card reader - there was no handle, nothing to force it open. When she tapped it, a prompt appeared; "Present Owner authentication". Without that, it wouldn't open. Another bell chimed, message appearing. Nice pic, you're a doll. Have some food. A drawer popped open, revealing a bowl full of powder. She grimaced. Of course a techbro would be into food-substitute powder. She gave it a sniff. Flavourless food substitute, to boot. Enough of that, and even the taste of cum would be a welcome change. She turned to the tap, trying to figure out how to turn it on - there was nothing to twist or turn. She waved the bowl beneath the tap, water rushing out. Just enough to turn the powder into a paste, nutritional enough to keep her alive, but bland and tasteless. She'd have to convince him to take her out somewhere proper, or this relationship wouldn't last long. She ate the paste, then put the bowl back into the drawer which slid shut and locked itself. Unable to leave, she explored the apartment - everything was sealed away, the place spartan and barren, no pictures or any other touches of life. In the bathroom were fresh toiletries, a sealed toothbrush and paste, the cabinet locking shut once she had cleaned her teeth. There was a TV in each room, but no remote control, nor any buttons on the units themselves. She bent over to look under the bed, finding what she expected - a large box, filled with more 'toys', those for obviously female use. She pulled it out, having to strain to shift the weight; if she was stuck here while some dickless techbro was spending his time hacking code, she may as well enjoy herself. The ex must have been feeling frustrated, if the amount of stuff present was any indication, and most of it still unopened. At the bottom of the box, and the reason it was so heavy, was a heavy block, a vibrating pad at the top - a sybian. She'd seen one used at a party before, an unwilling escort made to mount it only when threatened with being stripped and forcibly ejected onto the streets. From the sounds the girl had made, it had been quite intense, although that might just have been to try and please whoever had hired her or hoping to get them to let her go. She managed to find a plug socket (even that was behind a metal panel, although at least it was open rather than locked) and plugged it in. This one looked pretty heavy-duty, with straps to ensure the occupant didn't fall off, the controls on the front of the box where they would be hard to access when in use. She straddled it, then took another picture. Think I should
go for a ride? It didn't take long until there was a response. Strap yourself
in, it's a hell of a thing! She squirted lube over the dildo, shimmying her thong off, playing with herself to get herself ready. This was how she wanted to live, surrounded by luxury, although with rather more control herself. She played with herself, loosening herself up, then slowly eased herself onto the prong. The thing was cold inside her, although was a comfortable size, satisfyingly solid. She strapped the bands around her thighs, then reached forward, fumbling along the front of the device for the 'on' switch. It buzzed to life. She immediately grabbed her phone, trying to concentrate through the vibrations and stimulation, pressure swiftly building inside of her. This selfie wouldn't be very well focused, but... Her thoughts went white as the vibrations rumbled through her, bringing her to a peak. If it hadn't been for the straps, she would have fallen off already. The phone fell from her hand as she was shoved into another orgasm, hands covering her mouth as she tried not to yell. She came again, the buzzing seeming louder. Oh god, was it getting faster? A cry tore itself from her lips, audible even through her hands, and then she sagged forward as the buzzing slowed slightly. Her hands scrabbled over the front of the panel, fumbling for the controls. It started to vibrate again, her nails scraping against knobs and dials, flicking a switch and the thing powering down. It took her a long moment to collect herself, head swimming as she slowly pulled herself off it, the dildo now slick with her juices. She could understand now why that escort had started to beg after the sixth orgasm had been ripped from her, the onlookers only turning it up higher and laughing. She climbed off, needing to collect herself. That thing was powerful! Her pussy was drenched, thighs moist with her own juices, as she wiped herself down on the bedsheets. She didn't have any other clothing, and the device in the closet seemed to have jammed, leaving her reeking of sex as she put the thong back on, taking a moment to rearrange her own clothing as the message bell chimed again. Nice look,
doll, suits you. Wonder how long you can
go for if it wasn't turned off? Called
in a favour, got you a job. Close by,
phone will tell you the way. It had fallen against the wall, fortunately undamaged. A map had appeared, showing her current location, a destination not far away. Who was this guy? The place shown was an office building, filled with super-expensive lawyers and consultants. For a one-night stand she couldn't even remember, he was very generous. Even when drunk, she wouldn't have been picked someone ugly so he must be a looker, and wealthy as well. The bathroom door had sealed itself, so she couldn't shower again. The door to outside opened, allowing her to leave, hissing shut as soon as she passed through. |