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Slaves to the Amazons 1 - Enslaved
(Melissa DuVant)
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Slaves to the Amazons 1 - Enslaved 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 3: In-Flight Entertainment Chapter 7: Bodily Modifications Chapter 8: Training and Recovery Chapter 9: Testing and Training Chapter 10: Mental Adjustments Chapter 13: The Worm and the Goddess Chapter 15: Submissive Etiquette Chapter 18: The Great Escape (Part 1) Chapter 19: The Great Escape (Part 2) Mistress of the House Preview Chapter 7: Boxed and Cleaned To the anonymous benefactor that commissioned this, thank you! Summer's body was warm and sweaty from the evening's workout, her muscles stretched out. The cheerleader outfit felt good, the skirt nice and short, showing off her tight, hard butt, and her long legs, while the top was snug against her breasts. She jumped up onto the seats around the edge of the football ground, spinning around to see the other cheerleaders, all of them looking up at her nervously. 'Amber! You need to work harder, I saw you not doing the twists properly! And you, Brianna - your hair is a dirty mess. While I am head cheerleader, then everyone needs to live up to my standards. Or face the consequences!' She smiled down at them, enjoying their cold, forced smiles, a few of them shivering in fear. 'If you disappoint me, then you will be punished. Tyler, did you enjoy your naked laps? I know that the football team did.' The woman flushed, hunching her shoulders as she flushed, looking away and mumbling something. 'What was that? I didn't hear you.' 'Yes, Summer. Thank you for assisting me.' The sheer bitterness in her words made Summer smile, at the caged-up hatred. The silly slut had been given her chance to improve, failed, and so had needed to be punished! If nothing else, it had improved her athletics, and shown her that she could run faster, if she really needed to. And having everyone leer at her had suddenly seemed to provide a good incentive to be as fast as possible, before begging, on her knees, to be allowed clothing. 'Good. You all know to be polite and obedient. Just the way it should be! One last cheer.' She raised her arm in the air, watching as they moved into position, some of the weaker ones straining to keep moving, pushed to their breaking point. But they knew what to do, and feared the consequences for not doing it, settling into the starting positions, all of them posed, hands on hips. Behind them, she could see the setting sun, long shadows cast over the football ground. They moved with fluid grace into the routine, fixed smiles on every face, bleached and crimped hair flicking and flying around. Summer kept the beat with her foot, watching as two cheerleaders launched into handsprings, catapulting themselves across the space. Behind them, the rest of the cheerleaders twisted around, one of their number getting thrown upwards, caught on crossed arms and then bounced to the ground. 'So you're not entirely useless! That's good - maybe we might win state this year. If none of you screw up again.' She jumped off the raised seats, reaching forward and grabbing the nearest one, squeezing at a breast through the tight top. 'If not, you'll be showing this off!' The woman gulped in fear, Summer able to feel her shivering. She brought her hand back, enjoying how the cheerleader flinched away, clearly expecting a slap, before she lightly stroked their cheek, still warm from the routine. 'Once I'm done, then the rest of you miserable sluts can wash yourselves.' She snapped her fingers, and they formed up, before she turned away. The first right to the showers was hers and hers alone - once she was done, then all the other sluts could take their turns, but she refused to share! As she stepped into the locker room, she frowned. Something was wrong - what was it? The air was humid, and she could hear the thrumming of the water pump. Anger surged through her veins - what stupid bitch dared to use the showers? She gestured at her followers. 'Go and drag her out! I don't care if you get your uniforms wet!' The three at the front looked at each other, before obeying, stepping into the communal shower room. There were several splashes and a yelp of surprise and fear, before the cheerleaders returned, their outfits now wet, partially transparent and sticking to their bodies. Two of them were dragging another young woman, completely naked and struggling, her arms pinned to her sides. Summer stalked forward, bringing her arm back and then slapping the woman full across the face, all her annoyance and irritation in a single strike, hard enough to turn her head, black hair slicking across shoulders. She yelped in pain, still trying to struggle free. 'You stupid bitch.' She slapped them again, backhanding them across the other cheek, feeling her knuckles impact against soft skin. 'I don't know if you're new, or just stupid. No-one gets to use the showers before me. If you're too damn stupid to learn that, then you need to be punished. Girls, drag her outside. Whenever everyone has had their showers, then she can come back in.' 'Hey! What the fuck! You can't do that!' Summer slapped them again, a swift double-strike, front and back of her hand, feeling the sting of the impacts warm her hand up, feeling the thrill of inflicting pain rising through her. 'I can do what I want. And you need to be punished. I suppose the rest of the campus will enjoy seeing you.' She looked down at the woman's body - slender and athletic, with tan-lines showing where her cheer outfit covered her. 'And if you ever do something like this again, the punishment will be far worse! Now, everyone - get out, so I can enjoy my shower. And make sure she doesn't sneak back in!' The captive woman was still wriggling and squirming, but the cheerleaders had a firm grip of her, lifting her up as they dragged her towards the door. Summer couldn't resist slapping at the bare, wet butt as it passed, leaving a red hand-mark on the pale skin. She stared at them before all the cheerleaders left, then stripped off her own cheerleader outfit, padding into the room. The floor was already wet, water still streaming down, hot and steamy. Stupid bitch! Everyone knew that the shower was hers - she hated being naked in front of everyone else. And having to share the space with a load of other people just annoyed her. But the thought of that dumb bitch being shoved around, naked and fully displayed, made her feel good, enjoying the power she had. She rubbed herself down, shower gel forming into a lather, enjoying the feeling of touching herself, taking the time to admire her own body - everyone else could wait until she was done! Firm, pert breasts, a nice and trim stomach, her body honed by hours of workouts. Summer stroked a breast, lightly running fingers around a nipple. The water streamed over her, slicking her body, making her slippery, her blonde hair falling almost to her waist, the water sticking it to her body. Massaging shampoo into the long strands took a while, but she had to make sure she looked perfect all the time. Once it was fully shampooed, she pushed her head under the stream of water, letting it wash away the suds, her eyes tightly closed, before she swept the long strands out of her face, trying to shake the water away. She gave her head another shake, then opened her eyes, just a crack. A gleam of darkness in front of her, just for a moment, making her blink, trying to clear her vision. She opened her left eye, just a little, everything blurry, but the shiny thing was still there. A glowing curve, shiny black flecked with water. As she squinted through the water, she could make it out more clearly - an exaggerated female figure, lean and powerful, but utterly black and shiny. No face, just a dark curve, like a statue of obsidian. It moved, a hand stretching out towards her, every finger perfectly black and shiny. Fear trickled through her mind, and she stumbled backwards, the floor slippery beneath her feet. She still couldn't see properly, her hair half-plastered over her face, water still in her eyes. Was this one of the cheerleaders pulling some kind of sick prank? When she tore that suit off, she'd have whoever it was spanked raw, and then paraded around the entire campus, butt-naked! Although who was it? She didn't remember any of the other cheerleaders being that tall, looking down on her with that eerie, black-smooth head. It grabbed her shoulder, fingers digging in and twisting, pulling her off-balance. She tried to lash back, aiming a slap at a shoulder, but they blocked it, her palm hitting against a taut arm, the muscles tense and hard. She scrabbled backwards trying to get away while clearing her vision, before bumping into something. It wasn't the wall; instead it was slippery like plastic, but soft, giving slightly as she pushed herself against it. As she moved her hands against it, she felt her hands skid and slide, before encountering spikes, short and stubby, scratching against her palms. Summer half-turned, trying to see what it was, another black, featureless face looking at her. Her fear intensified, some part of her observing the differences - this one looked more decorated, with metal spikes sticking out from the black, a red frill around the head. She remembered herself, squaring up and staring at them, trying to ignore the slight stinging in her eyes. 'Get the fuck out! Neither of you should be in here! Get out now, and I'll go easy on you.' She tried to glance over at the locker room, to see if there was anyone there she could call on for support. Even though there shouldn't be anyone there, it would be nice to have someone, rather than these black-wrapped freaks. A hand brushed against her back, slippery and smooth, making her flinch away, the touch sliding off her wet skin. A leg slid between hers, hooking around it and throwing her off-balance, making her stumble. Her shoulder bumped against the wall, touching against a pair of waterpipes, one burning hot, the other bitterly cold, making her yelp and flinch away. The sting of pain turned into anger, and she started to yell. 'Get. OUT! I don't know who set you up to do this, but I will make them pay. And the two of you as well. You're going to suffer and become my pet bitches - you're going to regret this!' Both of them were now in front of her, making it easier to tell the differences - one pure black, utterly plain and unadorned, the other having some decoration, looking fancier and more ornate. She had been herded into a corner, so they were between her and the exit - could she make a dash for it? Summer tried to push her feet into the floor, readying herself to make a dash forward, but it was slippery with suds, her feet skidding, leaving her off balance. The plain black one moved forward, silent and creepy, the water bouncing off their black skin, dropping into a low, stable stance themselves. As Summer skidded, they lunged, arms spreading wide to grab at her. She tried to dodge backwards, but bumped against the wall again, the same painful hot-cold burst from touching the pipes. The thing's arms touched her, making her skin crawl - perfectly smooth, utterly inhuman, fingers curving around her arm, tight and strong. 'Get off me!' She tried to shake her arm, to get the freak off, but it was strong, fighting back against her, the other hand coming around and grabbing her as well. She was off-balance, her arm burned by the pipe, her own hair still half-blinding her, and then suddenly she was in the air, flipped upwards. Time seemed to slow as she found herself looking up at the ceiling, the showers spurting down on her. An arm wrapped around her, slowing her fall just before she slammed into the hard floor, but still hitting with enough force to wind her, the impact jarring her back. A palm slapped against her belly, making her splutter and gasp, water falling into her throat. A weight pressed down on her hips, the creepy, slippery skin-stuff pinning her down with it's weight, the one that had thrown her grabbing her arms, stretching them out to either side of her head. She could barely move, her body pinned beneath the weight, staring up at water-speckled darkness, able to see the curve of breasts from beneath. She tried to suck in a deep breath, wanting to scream, but then black-wrapped thighs descended, falling over her mouth, cutting off the air as they clamped around her head. She could only splutter, able to suddenly taste the stuff, chemical and plastic. The crotch started to grind over her face, allowing her only small pants of air, a burning starting to grow in her lungs. Was this some sick freak, getting off on this? Someone from another cheer-team, trying to repay a past defeat or humiliation? Or was this Megan setting something up? The one on her hips bounced slightly, Summer able to feel the buttocks pressing into her, squashing the air from her body. A sudden, stinging pain came from her crotch, a swift slap making sparks dance in her vision. She tried to kick out, a heel smacking against the tiled floor, adding another source of pain to her body. Her hair was streaming out around her head, caught in the still-flowing water, as she desperately tried to twist her head, seeking the air she was denied. Another pussy-slap, and her lungs burned in agony, her legs going limp. Fingers slid against her thighs, then between her legs, stroking at her crotch, making her try and shake them off. She strained with her arms, managing to lift one slightly off the ground, before it was slammed back down, jarring her wrist. The hips continued to grind against her face, a steady rhythm, the pervert clearly enjoying this. More water trickled into her mouth, and she tried not to inhale it, feeling a finger slide into her, lubricated by the water. She grunted in anger and shame, her body compressed under the weight, still trapped and pinned. Her arms were dragged around, both wrists being taken in a single hand. For a moment, she was able to wriggle a little, trying to get her wrists out, regaining some sense of movement, but then they were gripped, in fingers as strong as iron. The other hand clamped down against her mouth, pressing up against her nose, cutting her air off even more, her senses overwhelmed with the taste and scent. When it was removed, she instinctively opened her mouth to gasp, the black hand vanishing, returning with something white in hand. The hand descended, shoving the white material into her mouth, and she could taste sweat, realizing that they were her dirty panties, the ones she had been exercising in. 'Mpphhh!' They tasted rank and gross, contaminating her mouth with the taste of sweat, getting pushed over her tongue, before the woman straddled her face again. There was no way to spit them out, and the fingers in her pussy were heating her up, her vision starting to fade at the edges. The humiliation burned her to the core, of having to taste her own grime! The fingers continued to stroke inside of her, building up an inner heat, even as the filthy taste flooded through her mouth, and she couldn't avoid swallowing. With the black-wrapped crotch pushing down on her, it was barely possible to breathe, even before the extra weight shoving down on her hips. Her body started to go limp, her muscles refusing to obey her. When the woman on her face lifted herself off, all she could do was desperately inhale air, sucking it through her soiled panties, able to taste her own sweat. She tried to force herself to move, but couldn't, reduced to laying there and aching, two fingers spreading her slit wide before removing themselves. Neither of them had said anything, or made any sound, adding to the creepiness of the scene. The fancier one lifted their hips and then dropped down on her, forcing out the last air from her lungs. There was a tearing, pulling sound, and when she managed to turn her head, she saw that the plain black one was now holding a roll of duct-tape, pulling a strip off it. The weight on her chest moved, coming off her, and then hands slid beneath her, flipping her over. Her hair splashed about, the water flowing over her cheeks. Before she could spit out her panties, tape wrapped over her cheeks, pushing over her lips, sealing them shut. All she could do was whimper and splutter, just about able to get the strength to raise an arm. Strong fingers grabbed her wrists, bending them behind her back, more tape wrapping around them, pinning them together, bundling her hands into fists. 'Mphhh!' Her squeak sounded weak and pathetic, even to her, her legs getting bent back as well, ankles tapped together. A finger stroked over her soles, making her shiver, unable to control her body. She hated that, the unconscious little movements, feeling her chest constrict as the hand tickled her feet again. Then more tape bound her wrists to her ankles, forcing her into a hogtie, her belly pressed against the wet ground. Another band went over her forehead, catching her hair, pulling on her neck and bending it backwards, connecting to the tape binding her limbs. All she could do was grunt and whine, feeling her body being forced tight and taut. A plastic-wrapped foot stamped down on her backside, pressing her down, as the shower cut off, the water droplets slowing to a trickle. She tried fighting against the tape, feeling it flex, just a little, before tightening up. The taste of her dirty panties was making her feel sick, along with the shame of having to taste her own grime. The plain one squatted down in front of her, grabbing her hair, yanking her head back, making her neck ache. The position made the suit tighten over her crotch, enough to show the slight creases and dents of the pussy beneath, before the other hand came into view, now holding a syringe. Summer tried to twist away from it, but had no way to move, as it jabbed into her neck, shooting something into her. There was a faint blossoming of pain, and then darkness rose up in her brain, her body going limp, supported only by the tape. She was dimly aware of hands lifting her up, her eyes closing, feeling the black-wrapped hands grope her, before falling into forced unconsciousness. 'You know what you need to do. You need to make sure everyone here can see that you're sorry. Otherwise who knows what the consequences might be?' Megan made her voice sweet, as she stretched her leg out, enjoying the sight of her own smooth, toned muscles. There was a sound of resistance from in front of her, two of her minions holding down a female student, their grip strong on her arms, her mouth sealed with tape. Spelt out on the tape in bright red letters was the word "SLUT", scribbled on with lipstick. 'Hannah-slut, you know that David is off-limits - he's for Stacey. Just a simple rule, but you're such a stupid bitch that you couldn't even follow that.' She stretched her leg out, pressing her foot against Hannah's cheek, using it to turn her head. 'And so you need to learn your place. But I will accept an apology.' She leaned forward on her chair, grabbing the edge of the tape and pulling, ripping it off the woman's face, the back of it smeared with makeup, bright red where lipstick had imprinted. Other than the tape, she was naked, her clothing stripped off, breasts heaving in deep, panicked breaths. The woman winced, hissing in pain, tears forming in her eyes, her mascara already a mess. Megan leaned back, settling comfortably onto her seat, her followers gathered around her, before stretching her leg out again. 'Well? You know what you need to do.' They choked, making a quiet little strangled noise, before dropping their head in defeat. Lips, soft and warm, touched against the top arch of her foot, a kiss placed on her skin. She smiled, feeling a warm heat coiling up inside of her, an arousal starting to throb and beat in her special place. 'That wasn't so hard, was it?' She could feel the dry, soft kisses, just the right amount of pressure being applied, without any hint of biting or messy slobbering. 'Keep going. Remember, be respectful.' She raised her hand, feeling the weight of her stinger - a solid leather-wrapped handle and a long, thin striker, that could leave vicious welts on bare skin. Nowhere visible of course, but just a few strikes to a bare sole or squeezed breast could raise tears, without leaving anything that might cause problems. The whimpers were just a delight to hear, and getting the other girls to hold down a squealing, wriggling bitch while whipping them was a pleasure! Although in this case, her victim was being obedient. Almost annoyingly so! The soft, gentle touches of her lips against Megan's foot was starting to arouse her, increasing the sense of pleasure from between her legs. Now she wanted to touch herself! Not that she ever would do that here, not with all the other dumb bitches watching. Her body was sacred and precious, a shrine and temple - not something for inferiors to see! Even having them lick at her most precious place, kissing her there to get her off, she kept them blindfolded. Unable to resist herself, she moveds her wrist, bringing the stinger down onto her target's back, a welt forming on tanned skin. 'Oh no, it looks like you must have tripped and pressed against something.' She struck them again. 'Such a clumsy bitch you are! Maybe you could fall on something that slides into your tight little butt?' She slid the stinger along their back, enjoying the faltering breaths puffing against her foot during the foot worship. 'I am a queen compared to you, and you should treat me as such! Worship and adore me, or you will be punished.' She tensed her body, feeling the delicious tightness between her legs, wanting to stroke and touch herself. Her phone buzzed, sending a vibration through her, making her leg twitch, shoving the woman away. Before they could react, she moved her leg, shoving her foot down onto their head, enjoying the soft touch of their hair against her foot as she pulled her phone out, unlocking it. A video started to play, and she grinned, grinding her foot down against the captives head, shoving it onto the floor. It showed a female body, tightly wrapped up in a latex body-bag and suspended from the ceiling. The person inside was conscious, Megan able to see their limbs pressing against the latex, making it stretch out before pulling them back into place. Their legs were bent backwards at the knee, preventing them kicking out, probably tied into place somehow. A message flashed up from Amarna, another of her minions: Got her! It was accompanied by an address, somewhere up in the nearby hills, one of the holiday villas. She shoved her foot down again, before striking the woman with her stinger and reaching for her shoes, already pulling the sneakers on. 'Show her how to be obedient. I've got something else I need to do! Just don't leave any marks that are visible.' These bitches were her court - if anyone was going to mark them up, it would be her! The thought of making them get tramp-stamps or other bitch-marks made her smile, getting wetter at the thought, as she walked away, hearing the moans of pain already. It didn't take long to get to her car, and then race up into the tree-studded hills, passing by small manors and holiday homes, enjoying the thrum of the powerful motor. The open top of the convertible made her hair whip around in the breeze, the sun setting, casting long shadows. The captive in the picture was one of Summer's bitches, her cheerleader-sluts - Megan smiled at the memory of the impact of the stinger against bare feet, carefully leaving marks her sister wouldn't see, torturing information from the dumb bitch. That had been several months ago - long enough for the woman to have found something else out, at least if she knew what was good for her! Except then she had run away. Megan would have to devise some special punishment for that - something horrible, painful and that wouldn't leave any marks! She couldn't punish Summer, but hurting one of her bitches was still pleasurable. She screeched to a stop outside the house - right on the end of the street, well-shielded by trees, thick enough to absorb screaming. The cheerleader-bitch's family must own the place, as a holiday home or something, and Amarna had found out. Amarna was a good little minion - polite, obedient and willing. Megan looked around cautiously, seeing another car, a large, dark SUV, the windows tinted and opaque. If she was already captured, then Amarna had done her job - she was a good little minion, always happy to bend her knees and kiss Megan's feet. After this, maybe she should be allowed to kiss somewhere else? A ruler should be gracious, and reward loyalty and competency - especially when obedient followers were so hard to find! Megan circled around the house, before walking up to the backdoor and pushing it open, the thing silent. The air inside was chill, the summer heat not having penetrated into the thick walls. With the stinger still in hand, she advanced through the rooms, her head quickly scanning from side-to-side, wondering where Amarna was. She stepped into the living room, glancing over the decorations - a thick rug on the floor in front of the fireplace, hunting trophies on the walls, along with some dull paintings. And there, now on the floor rather than suspended from the ceiling. The shape was less human-looking now, limbs bent into something like a hogtie, the head covered in dull, dark rubber, trying to crawl. Round lumps covered the ears, deafening whoever was in there. Megan walked forward, stepping with deliberate heaviness, letting the floorboards shift beneath her, seeing as the woman-shape froze, before wriggling and straining further, trying to move away. The thing might be deaf, but could still feel, it seems. She stepped closer, then whipped the stinger down, striking the shape on the buttocks, feeling the impact run through her wrist, the suit thicker than she had expected, absorbing some of the force. Even though the thing couldn't hear her, it was still fun to taunt. 'Stupid, dumb bitch. All you had to do was tell me what my beloved step-sister is up to, and then we wouldn't have had to do this. We could even have had some fun. But now I have to hurt you, until you tell me what I want to know, and I can be sure you're not lying. Or that this isn't a set-up Summer's arranged. So you're going to tell me everything, but only after I've had some fun.' The bound shape wriggled again, edges of limbs briefly visible before fading away. Megan heard a noise behind her, half-turning. Sleek, tight darkness - shiny latex, rather than dull rubber, wrapped around two female forms, both of them powerful and curvaceous, the outfits highlighting their breasts, waists and hips. Both were beautiful, their bodies sheathed in the black second skin, their black hair the same shiny, glossy tint. One had short hair, the other long, their outfits different as well - both tight, black latex, but the long-haired one was in plain darkness, while the other had spikes accentuating her figure, along with dashes of color, red as well as the black. 'Who are you two?' Had Amarna bought them along for some reason? They looked like dominatrix's, both of them sexual and powerful. 'Where's Amarna?' The two of them looked at each other, their faces smiling, seeming entirely relaxed. And looking down on her - they were both several inches above her, boosted even higher by heels built into their suits. 'Ah, here she is. We've been expecting you.' They approached closer, Megan trying not to feel intimidated as the long-haired one spoke. 'It was tempting to watch you have some fun, but there's going to be plenty of time for that later.' Megan held her ground, staring back into the grey eyes of the woman, her hand tensing up on the stinger. She felt better having the thing in her grip, but she was outnumbered, and they were both tall and powerful, seeming strong and confident. And there was the bitch crawling on the ground as well, wriggling around in the flexing, body-trapping rubber. 'We're going to get very well acquainted, but there's no hurry.' This was the short-haired one, the two now standing a little apart, Megan looking between the two of them, uncertain who they were, feeling nervous. 'If you're going to punish her, then I'll leave you to it.' She started walking around them, trying to move around the edge of the room, but they moved to block her. Her heart started to beat faster, clammy nervousness oozing from her skin. 'Oh, she will be punished. But we need to talk about you first.' Short-hair movedf forward, steady and powerful, but suddenly fast, a hand reaching out towards Megan's shoulder. She dropped her shoulder and stepped backwards, staying out of reach. 'Who are you?' 'Oh, you don't need to know those just yet, dma'ne. We're going to be getting very close.' The woman's smile was sharp and predatory, her body like a coiled spring, increasing Megan's feelings of nervousness. The grace she moved with, light rippling over her shiny body, was making Megan feel slow and clumsy in comparison. 'Don't you know who I am? Don't you dare mess with me! I'll have you arrested - I can get my Dad to send for the police. And they're going to handcuff you and hurt you. I bet they would like having the two of you in the cells! They'd have to give you a full cavity search, I'm sure they'd be very enthusiastic. Imagine a fat, massive fist, pushed right inside of you.' The two bitches wouldn't be so proud and in control then, not after what the cops would do to them - spread them out and check them in every hole, after slicing the latex suits off them. Having to spend some time locked in the cells, being leered at by everyone else would help teach them some humility as well! Long-hair made a single bark of laughter, circling around to the side, cutting off Megan's path off escape. As short-hair reached for her again, Megan raised the stinger, using it to protect herself. She tried to flick her wrist forward, wanting to strike the woman with it, hoping that the latex suit was nice and thin, so that the impact would hurt. It sliced through the air, but then something grabbed her wrist and twisted, stopping her movement completely. She tried to pull her wrist back, but the grip was too strong, locking her arm into place, tight and painful. She grunted, feeling the fingers bite into her muscles, trying to drag herself away. 'Let go of me! I'll have you destroyed! You're going to be made to fuck the whole damn police department!' 'Oh, I don't think that'll happen.' Her arm was wrenched around, forcing her to twist and spin, her own balance wobbling as she was shoved forward. The stinger was torn from her grasp, bouncing off the wall and falling to the floor. Something was in her way, warm and smooth, her hands sliding off latex. Before she could move away, a palm slapped against her belly, knocking her backwards and winding her, knocking the air from her lungs. A black and shiny hand grabbed at her top, trying to pull the material away, making it tighten around her. Her arms flailed, shoving against the slippery body without effect, her strength sapped without air in her lungs. A hand, inhuman and smooth, grabbed at her face, covering her mouth for a moment, fingers sliding off her cheeks as she managed to fall backwards. 'You... stupid... bitches! I'll have you ass-fucked with... with coke cans!' Fingers grabbed her wrists from behind and pulled, twisting her shoulders and forcing her to bend over, thrusting her ass backwards. She tried to stamp down, wanting to hurt someone, but her body was held in the lock, her arms pinned into place. Pain stung her cheek as she was slapped, a sharp strike against her face. Fear and confusion were melting her brain, her thoughts slow and confused as her face was grabbed again. She could taste the material, unpleasant and plastic on her tongue. She pressed her mouth forward, wanting to bite, but the grip tightened, holding her jaw shut. Blood started to pound in her ears, her lungs beginning to scream for air. 'You're going to be a lot of fun to work with. I wonder how much we'll be able to stretch out your cute little asshole?' The voice was mocking, fingers squeezing into her cheeks, before her other hand ripped at Megan's top. The material started to tear, sending another quiver of fear through Megan, and she mewled into the hand. It withdrew, then slapped against her cheek, hard enough to make her head turn, before her top was ripped away, the material tearing apart. Beneath she was just wearing a bra, the air suddenly cold against her. 'What nice breasts you have! But you won't need any clothing any more. You just need to obey.' The pressure on her shoulders increased, her arms getting bent further over, forcing her to bend from the pain, her backside pressing against a latex-wrapped body. The other woman spoke from behind her, fingers gripping tightly. 'It will be nice to train you. You're going to be a good little toy when we're done with you.' A leg slid between hers, pushing against it and breaking her balance, her arms aching as more of her weight was put onto them. 'No! Let me go!' She tried twisting her arms, but there was no give there. Another slap turned her face, her cheek flaring with pain, before hands grabbed the waistline of her jeans and yanked down. Humiliation burned through her, numbing her senses as she tried to break free again, without any success. 'Let me go! Please... I can pay!' 'Oh, we don't need your money, little Megan.' Bent over and gasping for air, Megan couldn't even tell which one was speaking, a hand sliding between her thighs, touching against her special place through her panties. 'No! Don't touch me there!' The finger pushed with greater force, the soft material sliding into her, violating her body. 'You're going to need to learn to be obedient. But we have time.' The fingers slid and teased again, threatening to violate her with gentle touches. With her jeans around her ankles, she couldn't move her legs enough to break free. Hands yanked at her panties, the soft material easily ripping, cooler air sliding between her legs. 'No!' Fear surged, and she tried to break free again, without success. Her panties were torn away now, before her hair was yanked back sharply. As her mouth opened, something soft and warm was pushed in, and it was a moment before she realized that it was her underwear. She could taste them, taste herself, her own body, her sacred place, strong and pungent in her mouth, swirling over her tongue. 'Nphhhh!' Something jabbed into her leg, a sharp throb, and she caught the glimpse of a syringe, something getting injected into her. Her body slid even further from her control, and she would have fallen if not held up. Instead, she was slowly lowered, the rug soft against her skin. 'Mphhrmmmm...' She couldn't even muster the energy for a scream, her tongue fat and heavy in her mouth, as her jeans were pulled off her legs, after her socks and shoes were stripped. Hands tore at her bra, leaving her naked, air cool against her skin, able to taste her own sweat. 'Let's get you prepared - there's a nice long trip in store for you!' The two women looked down at her, the short-haired one putting a spiked heel against her belly and jabbing downwards, another spike of pain, as the other one stepped away. Rubber slapped and slithered as she returned, holding up a rough sack of the stuff. 'Two bagged-up slaves to train!' Hands grabbed her limbs, pulling her into shape, and then the rubber started to get pulled onto her body. It had been powdered on the inside, letting it slither over her form, compressing her body as it slid over her. Her ankles were pulled against the back of her hips, her feet stretched out, stiff and exposed. 'Nphhh!' 'Shhh, don't worry. All you need to do is relax, and soon we'll be able to have some proper fun.' Fingers teased against her slit, gently parting her open, making her mewl as she was stroked. 'If you're a good girl, then we won't be too rough. But I suspect we might need to be firm.' A heel jabbed down again, jabbing into a breast. Then the rubber was pulled up over her hips, sealing her crotch away. The higher it came, the more of her body was taken from her - the way it sealed and compressed her body, pressing in on her, sealing away her skin and removing her ability to move, the more her panic increased. Her right arm was taken, her hand bent around and curved against her shoulder, a thick sleeve holding it into that position, pressing down against her fingers. It crept over her belly, conforming tightly to her hips, swaddling her entirely before her other arm was bound as well. She moaned again, feeling clammy terror-sweat over her body, chill and numbing. Hands squeezed her breasts, and then they too were swallowed up by the rubber, and then it was around her neck. And the taste of her pussy, flowing over her tongue! 'There we go - what a lovely package!' She was on her back, staring up at the ceiling, her limbs bound against themselves, crippled and paralyzed. Arms lifted her up, a zipper sounding out, and everything was even tighter. She tried to force her limbs to move, but they refused to obey as she was dropped, landing heavily on her back. 'Just the hood, and then we can start moving. We've got a long way to go.' The short-haired one squatted over Megan, squeezing her jaw and pushing a black rubber ball in, the thing sliding behind her teeth and expanding, filling her mouth completely, a horrible chemical taste flowing over her tongue. A padded blindfold slid over her eyes, the world going dark, as she struggled to move still, her body taken from her. Strong hands grabbed around her body, lifting her up again, and fingers slid against her ears. Earbuds, hard and plastic, were pushed in, and she was deaf now - she could sense a vague thrumming in the air, like a distant throb, but couldn't make out any words. The rubber numbed her skin, all her senses taken from her, as she was lifted up. A hand squeezed one of her breasts, and then a needle jabbed into her neck, filling her with loose, unwelcome darkness, embracing her as she tried to scream, mute, blinded, deaf and silenced... Chapter 3: In-Flight Entertainment Morrigan looked out the window, watching the sunlit clouds, clean and pure beneath them, stretching out in the seat. The space inside the plane was small, but it was only a short flight. She stood up, smiling down at the black-wrapped lumps on the floor of the plane. One of them wriggled, fingers appearing for a moment before getting dragged back. 'Which one's mine?' Victoria looked up from behind her tablet, her long, latex-sheathed legs stretched out in front of her, pointing at one of the two lumps. 'That one is Megan. It looks like they're waking up.' Morrigan smiled. 'Oh yes. Why waste time? We can keep them nice and confused until we're home, but there's no reason not to have a bit of fun first. It'll be fun to see the terror in their eyes, but we can start probing their bodies now. I made sure to give them low doses.' 'Remember the training we agreed to! Nothing too harsh yet, they're probably not that tough.' 'I know, I know. I'll keep mine nice and blinded - she doesn't need to see yet.' The rubber-wrapped shape was wriggling more actively now. 'Hmm, I would have thought yours would be the first to wake, I thought Summer was the sporty one?' 'We'll need to experiment more with drugs, she might just have a different tolerance. They're not actually related after all, so will react differently.' Morrigan squatted over the lump, enjoying the sight of the barely-human shape wrapped inside, like a dull black slug. And the thought of the pretty young slave-slut wrapped up inside, ready to be trained! She reached out and touched it, grabbing the face-lump, feeling a nose beneath her palm. The lump twisted, trying to get away, the leg end bucking and twisting. From within the rubber, it would be impossible to see or hear, and it fought any attempts at movement, pulling the occupant into a bundle. The only air was from a small valve, helping to keep the occupant dazed, her lungs probably aching and burning from the oxygen deprivation. She rolled the lump over and straddled them, grinding her own crotch against the rubber, feeling her latex suit shift around her, comfortingly tight. Megan was wriggling more, straining against her rubber, Morrigan feeling hands press against her for a moment, before they were snatched away by the rubber. 'I'm going to have to make a physical regime for them - don't want them giving up on us, or fading away entirely And Megan didn't put up much of a fight, she seemed a bit puny. I've already made up the food-mix for them.' 'Eugh, slave-goop! Well, it's got everything they need, and it'll make it easier to keep them clean. They're going to have to adjust to their bodies existing only for our pleasure, and I don't want to have to give them enemas all the time. What are you going to do to yours?' 'I want to break her pride. She's obviously used to being in charge, so she's going to need to adjust to being a slut-slave. As long as she doesn't break completely!' The wriggling beneath Morrigan was getting more intense, rubbing and grinding against her, and she ground back, enjoying the sensation of dominance, before dropping her weight, pinning Megan into place. 'What about your one - a cheerleader, right? She looked quite flexible and tough.' 'She should be - cheerleading is quite physical, so she's used to exercise and will be quite flexible. I think she'll break soon enough, though.' Morrigan's fingers probed over Megan's body, finding her breasts, squeezing them through the thick rubber. 'They're going to be good little sluts for us.' She raised her voice. 'How much longer until we arrive?' A flat, electronic voice sounded back from speakers in the cabin. 'Forty-seven minutes, Mistress.' 'Thanks. That's long enough to have some fun.' She found the breathing valve and pressed her hand down against it, feeling the lump writhe with renewed vigor, but swiftly getting weaker and weaker. She withdrew her hand, hearing a pained gasp through the valve, then finding the seal of the rubber sheathe and starting to unfasten it. The smell of sweat wafted out - the talc had formed a thin crust on Megan's skin, but even beneath the rubber she was bound, a tight harness around her body, connecting to mitten-gloves, with a black hood on her head, the only break her mouth, sealed with a plugged ring-gag. Morrigan watched as Megan wriggled around, the crust breaking off, revealing soft, sweaty skin beneath. The thought of breaking Megan in made Morrigan heat up, a warmth starting to spark between her legs. 'Remember, nothing too rough yet! We need to work on them together.' 'I know, I know! But I can still play with her - she needs to get used to it, after all.' Megan was writhing around on the floor, the rest of her head obscured behind the tight, black hood. Morrigan pinned the woman into place with a heel against her belly, noting the slight pudge there - that would need to be eliminated. She scraped her heel-spike down the exposed flesh, leaving a white scratch-mark, before pressing against Megan's pussy. She could see Megan's chest heaving for air, idly wondering what was going through her victim's mind - probably terror and confusion, not knowing what was happening to her, or who was doing it. She leaned down, grabbing at a breast. 'She's larger here than yours.' She squeezed a nipple, pinching it between her fingers and stretching it out, leaning a knee on the wriggling belly beneath her, pinning Megan into place. 'Going to need a bit of work - I don't want her buff, but she's going to need a bit more muscle-tone. And I'll need to work on her stamina, I don't want her breaking on me all the time, when I'm in the middle of having fun.' Victoria put her tablet aside and approached, the light rippling off her latex-sheathed skin. She looked divine, as always, her shoulder-length black hair swaying as she walked, every inch perfect and sensual. 'I suppose I'll have some fun with mine then. She seems to be recovering now.' The other rubber-slug was starting to move as well, straining and wriggling. Morrigan put more weight onto her knee, enjoying the feeling of Megan beneath her, squashing the air from her lungs. She could see a tongue waggling on the inside of the ring gag, and reached forward and grabbed it, squeezing it between her fingers. 'Mphhh!' It was slippery and wet, trying to squirm out from between her fingers, Morrigan squeezing it tightly. 'This is going to be a tool for pleasure soon - if you have a nice voice, then I might let you speak still. Otherwise you're going to have that ring fixed in place permanently. I don't need to hear you, I just need to use you. From now on, you exist for my pleasure - you're going to find this out soon enough.' She let go of the tongue, then shoved her fingers into the throat, feeling the ring of muscle tighten up under the assault, dribble over Morrigan's fingers, and onto Megan's chin. 'A bit of a gag reflex - that'll need training out. Not that she'll ever be taking a cock, but my slave should be able to take whatever I want to do to her.' She pushed her fingers deeper, feeling Megan resist, tensing up and groaning before she withdrew her fingers, wiping the dribble against Megan's belly. 'This is going to need work. You need to be tougher!' She pressed down on the belly, compressing it beneath her palm, feeling the muscles tense up. 'Not bad, but still a bit flabby. You'll need to be more like your sister. Don't worry, I'll make you nice and lean.' Gagged grunts and squeals started, as Summer was released from her sack. Her skin was paler - an adverse reaction to the drugs, maybe? She'd have to conduct more checks, build up some toughness. This close, it was more obvious that they weren't blood-related - although they had a similar style, there were different shapes to their faces. And both blonde, hair well-cared for and shiny. Well, soon enough their hair wouldn't be an issue! 'You're not in bad shape, but I want my slave to be nothing but the best. So you're going to be worked hard. And there's going to be some permanent changes, and you'll need to adjust to those.' 'You know she can't hear you, right?' Victoria had extracted Summer from the rubber now, jabbing her fingers into nerve-clusters, forcing Summer's body to twitch and shiver. 'I know. But I feel it's more fair this way - she had the chance to find out, and then failed and got captured. Now she's going to be my un'dma'ne, until she's trained and collared. I wonder what experience they've had? I doubt they're virgins.' Megan was starting to wriggle more, tensing and straining against her bindings, although without any success. It was amusing feeling her body move, Morrigan checking her over, stroking over muscles, checking for weaknesses or damage - the captivity hadn't been long enough to hurt her, but it was always better to check fresh meat before training. She seemed healthy enough, with just a little pudge that would need working off. When Morrigan poked her fingers into the back of a knee, Megan's legs tensed up, flexing normally. Her breathing was fast and labored, but that was to be expected. She checked over Megan's breasts, lightly squeezing the mounds, feeling the supple skin, youthful and fresh. The nipples hardened as she stroked them, hearing a whimper from beneath the hood - the darkness and silence was hopefully going to make Megan nice and obedient when she was released! Although not too obedient - she was looking forward to breaking her in and taming her, making her obey. When she stroked her fingers down the smooth, soft belly, she could feel every shiver and twitch of Megan's body, bound arms and legs straining against the restraining bands again. Morrigan laid Megan out on the floor, sliding fingers down smooth legs, feeling the kneecap, then checking the toes. Everything bent and flexed properly, and sliding a finger over the bare sole produced a delightful full-body shiver, Megan whimpering through her hood. Was she sensitive down there? She had a few callouses there, but nothing unusual. Without stopping her examination, she spoke to Victoria. 'How's yours?' 'A bit more toned than yours. Might be harder to keep in line - I'll have to break her in, like a mare. She's going to need physically breaking down before she learns to obey I think. She's used to being quite physical, so she'll have to learn that her body won't help her. Yours is going to be more like a cat - she'll need to have her mentality adjusting until she accepts her position, even if she's beaten down for the moment.' 'We'll see. It'll be a pleasure to watch them adjust to their new place. And they're both young and healthy, so we can be quite harsh with them.' She reached forward, sliding her fingers along Megan's thigh, feeling it tense up and try to flinch away, unable to more than pathetically wriggle. The way she was still trying to move was amusing, still trying to break free, rather than simply surrendering. Summer was even more active, Victoria having to pin her in place, delivering several sharp slaps and pinches, Summer's wriggling getting more acute. It wasn't until Victoria punched her in the belly that Summer sagged down, surrendering for now. Morrigan parted Megan's thighs before pushing a hand up, probing at the woman's lips with her fingers, soft and gentle. There would be plenty of time to be harsh later on! Megan was panting for air, choked by her hood, probably deep in the throes of panic, as Morrigan continued to finger her, feeling her own lust spike, her body heating up within her latex suit. She used one hand to tease at Megan's folds, the other to stroke her own crotch, caressing it through the thin material. Despite her gasping mewls, Megan was still getting wet, Morrigan's finger sliding more easily into her, twisting and curling around. A nice young body, used to sexual satisfaction - she'd need to get used to going without, at least until she had been obedient enough to deserve it! Morrigan pushed her finger deeper in, feeling every twitch and shiver of Megan's body, the cunt yielding to her touches, as she started to slide her finger back and forth. Victoria was still tormenting Summer, using pokes and pinches to provoke responses, Summer twitching like raw meat, unable to see where the next assault would come from. 'Hmm, doesn't seem as easy to get going as yours. Or maybe she just needs more stimulation.' Victoria raised a hand, a plastic zapper held up, pressing the trigger to make electricity spark between the contacts. She used one hand to pin Summer in place, carefully sliding the zapper into her victim, and then pressing the trigger again. Summer spasmed, the pained sucking-in of breath audible across the cabin, Victoria zapping her again. 'She's going to have to get used to pain. But she does have nice soft skin - marking her up is going to be a delight.' Mistress of the House Preview Chapter Seven: Boxed and Cleaned Despite it making breathing harder, the gasmask was welcome - the room was choked with dust, every surface covered in at least half an inch of the stuff! Hannah could feel it clinging to the few parts of her skin that were exposed - on her legs, and a strip between her sleeves and the mittens. She couldn't even tell what this chamber was - maybe a guestroom, or a bedroom for a favored servant? There was a bed, securely bolted to the floor, and a small basin, one corner holding a little wardrobe, which she hadn't yet dared open. There was a window, currently open and giving her somewhere to shovel the dust, although the bars made it messier than it should have been, and, of course, the door to the outside was locked, until Miss Coerator returned. But her privates were currently unmolested, even if they were locked away. With the number of restraint devices around, a chance to turn the tables would surely come sooner or later! She turned her head as she roused up another cloud of dust, wiping it off the eye-pieces, trying to shoo it towards the window. The latex had taken some getting used to, but the closeness of it was surprisingly comfortable, and the stockings were better than getting dust all over her skin. She was on her knees, trying to restore some shine to the floor, her arms and legs too exhausted to permit her to stand up. Another cloud of dust billowed up around her, blinding her for a moment as she pushed the cloth along the floor. Her progress was blocked by something she hadn't seen, a hard and solid shape. When the dust had cleared enough that she could see, she found it was a metal loop, securely bolted in position. It was obviously for locking something, or someone, in place - a leash could be tied there, forcing someone to keep their head down, or used to shackle a wrist in place. Hannah imagined Miss Coerator locked away - stripped of her fancy clothes, bound and abused. How long would it take to break her pride, Hannah wondered, if she were to be shackled and tormented? A spike suddenly pushed against the meat of her calf. When she twisted around, she saw that Miss Coerator was standing over her. 'You do look good down on your knees, my dear.' The spike of her heel pressed harder against Hannah. 'And you seem to have made good progress. An impressive day's work, although there is still a lot to do, of course. And you have made quite the mess of your uniform.' The pressure relented for a moment, before she tapped Hannah's backside with the tip of her boot. 'But you must be tired and hungry, I'm sure. Can you stand?' Hannah tried, getting her feet under her, her legs wobbling and shaky. Miss Coerator did nothing to help, simply watching in amusement as she swayed, legs in agony, the ballet heels adding another layer of agony. She fell against a wall, slowly sliding downwards, back to the floor. 'I suppose even your stamina has a limit, my dear. But I'm not so proud I won't help a servant in need. Now, strip, and then we can deal with your needs.' It took the last of Hannah's strength to remove her clothing, the latex fighting her, snapping back as she tried to remove it, the mittens making it impossible to grip, until Miss Coerator came to help. She was far more experienced, easily peeling the material away, leaving Hannah naked except for the mittens, boots and mask, and of course the collar. She tried to stand again, her legs refusing to obey her. Miss Coerator moved over, a long plastic hose in hand. The filter on the front of the gasmask was unscrewed, allowing her a few short breaths of sweet air, dust mingling with the scent of Miss Coerator, before the hose was screwed in place. Now, in order to breathe, she had to pull air along the entire length of the tube. Miss Coerator stood up, a playful expression on her face. 'Now, my dear, I do hope you will be obedient. It has been a decidedly mixed bag so far.' She placed her hand over the open end of the tube. The air in the tube quickly became hot and stale, Hannah starting to feel woozy, until Miss Coerator removed her hand. 'I want you nice and rested for what is to come - there is a lot more work to be done, and I wouldn't want you to distract yourself.' She propped the hose up on the basin then stepped outside, returning and wheeling in a cart supporting a black metal box, a single hole in one side. She unlocked a large padlock on the side, opening it up - the inside was padded but had no other ornamentation, nothing other than cushioned pads to prevent the occupant from bashing against the cold metal. Hannah squeaked, trying to retreat, fear and exhaustion slowing her movement. 'Now, my dear, please don't cause any problems. It would be such a shame if I had to be harsh with you. In you go.' She capped the tube with her hand again, showing her power. It only took a breath or two for the air to run short, as Hannah forced herself to move, managing to crawl forward, hearing Miss Coerator purr with satisfaction. 'Good girl.' Hannah had to curl up to fit inside, almost in the fetal position, although the cushioning was deep enough to make the position comfortable, her body supported by padding rather than hard metal. 'Now, just in case I need to communicate with you.' Miss Coerator reached in, a hand caressing one of Hannah's breasts before clipping something over one of Hannah's ears. Then she fed the hose through the hole in the lid, before closing it. The padding was thick enough that Hannah could barely feel the "click" of the lock shutting, as she was sealed into the darkness. It was a good thing she wasn't claustrophobic! A gentle rumble started, as she was wheeled away, the hallway not entirely smooth, occasional bumps shaking her around. There was just about enough space for her to sit up straight, and slightly twist and flex her limbs, but no more. As she was moved, she heard Miss Coerator's voice in one ear, coming through the earbud. 'I am planning on having some guests for an event soon, and I do hope that you will be cooperative and entertain them. No doubt you will appreciate the chance to engage in some less menial labor as well.' Some complicated maneuvering happened, as the cart negotiated a corner in a multi-point turn. Hannah considered pushing against the lid, but with Miss Coerator pushing the cart, it seemed pointless. She felt several more turns and curves, and then was bumped up a few steps, jolting around the tiny space, before movement stopped. All she could smell and taste was the plastic and rubber of the hose, as Miss Coerator spoke again. 'You are one of very few to be in here, you know - I guard my privacy well. You should feel honored, little maid.' Were they in her bedroom, then? Given that this was where Hannah had been explicitly banned from entering, then Miss Coerator really did keep it private! 'You truly do have a lovely physique, my dear. But you could be a little more obedient, I feel. All those naughty toys you bought with you, were you intending to do any work? They do make quite an impressive display! So many to use - I wonder which you prefer? If you're good, I might let you pick, although it's far more fun to choose myself.' A familiar-sounding motor whirred into life, Hannah shaking in response, feeling herself slicken just from the sound, despite being locked into the chastity belt. 'This one seems to have been used a lot. Is it your favorite? And seems to have been modified as well.' The pitch of the motor changed, vibrating more loudly. 'At the highest level it was certainly vigorous! Is that what you used for your stamina training? But while you are in my employ, such things are forbidden, without my explicit permission. Maybe I should have placed one of your remote-controlled devices in you, but I think you should have a night of full rest. As a reward for your good work' Hannah tried to imagine what Miss Coerator's bedroom might look like - from how she kept the rest of the house, they were probably a mess. But she dressed so stylishly, so maybe she kept her rooms in good order and didn't care about the rest? Probably a lot of clothing, all latex, leather and silk, the finest materials and brands, as well as the fetishwear. Lots of shoes. And then her mind started filling in other details - chains hanging from the ceiling, whips and crops, other devices to punish her maids. She shifted uncomfortably - at least when she was stuck in the box, she was relatively safe! And, of course, a pile of all of Hannah's vibrators and dildos. The buzzing suddenly cut off. 'Now, my dear, I'm going to clean myself. You can rest in there, nice and snug, and then I will clean you in the morning. It looks to be raining, so it will be an indoor clean this time. Won't that be nice?' The air coming through the hose was richly scented now, heavily infused with Miss Coerator's presence. Whatever was broadcasting to the earbud had been left on, the sounds of running water coming through, along with pleased sighs. Hannah tried not to imagine Miss Coerator's body, lush and full, covered in suds and water droplets, playing with herself in the shower. The thoughts only increased Hannah's arousal, but with the mittens on, she couldn't even grope her breasts properly, succeeding only in smearing dust across herself. And the box was so small it was starting to get hot from her body heat, sweat starting to form on her skin, soaking into the cushioning. The sounds of the shower cut off. What would Miss Coerator wear to bed? Almost certainly not a baggy and comfortable t-shirt, and probably not a leather catsuit. Maybe elaborate lingerie, a silk nightie or similar? Even when alone, she probably made sure to dress up. Footsteps, Miss Coerator making no attempt to hide her movement, and then the creak of a bed. This was followed by increasingly urgent gasps and pants, wordless sighs and groans. Hannah's eyes went wide as she realized what she was hearing - Miss Coerator was masturbating! Thoughts of that body stretched out on a bed, fully naked, hands between legs... Hannah clenched her own thighs, even more frustrated that she couldn't reach herself, or do anything more than uselessly grope her own breasts. To have Miss Coerator at her mercy, spreadeagled on her no-doubt massive bed, tease and punish that gorgeous body! She would have to try and find a chance to turn the situation around. Miss Coerator's gasps continued - she was obviously teasing herself, building to a slow climax, rather than racing there. Hannah twisted, in frustrated annoyance - she wanted to come as well, and by her own choice! After several highly-satisfied sighs, there was a long silence, before the creaking of the bed again, and more footsteps. 'Hmmmm, that was rather pleasurable. Maybe I should get some toys like yours? Now, my dear, I imagine you're rather hungry and thirsty. Let me tend to your needs, and then you can rest.' The scent coming through the tube intensified, as Miss Coerator moved closer, Hannah smelling her arousal, the air suddenly getting short. Was Miss Coerator holding the tube against her body? It was like having her face pushed against the woman's body, and she instinctively pushed her tongue out, although all it encountered was the plastic hose. 'Unfortunately, this is always a trifle inelegant, but do try not to drown. You do deserve a treat though, your work thus far has been excellent.' Liquid splashed into her mouth, and Hannah made herself swallow as quickly as possible. It was wine, although heavily watered down. Still, the taste was rich in her mouth, even though she couldn't savor the taste without risking drowning. On an empty stomach, even though it was watered down, she felt a slight giddiness pass over her quickly. 'Not the best vintage, but acceptable. And quite a treat for a maid, I feel.' Something rattled down the tube, bouncing between the ridges and gathering speed, then falling into her mouth. It was dry and rough, flaking apart in her mouth as she chewed. 'Perhaps this will teach you to appreciate real food more? The cook is very talented.' More pellets followed, Hannah trying to fit them into her mouth, feeling her cheeks bulge as she swallowed them. The pellets were nasty and gritty, some sort of meaty aftertaste Hannah couldn't place, making her wince in discomfort. Finally, the torrent stopped, and there was another pouring of wine, helping to wash the stuff down. This time it had a strange, medicinal aftertaste, chunks of something mixed in with the liquid. Hannah felt her thoughts growing dim, a languor spreading through her limbs. 'Good night, little maid. Rest well - there is plenty more work to be done tomorrow!' The box shook, as Miss Coerator must have rapped a knuckle against it. Hannah tried to wriggle, to move herself enough to shake off the growing tiredness, but whatever had been mixed into the wine was too strong, and she quickly passed out. 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. |