Descent Into Darkness (3 page)

Leaning back to survey his work and his prize, a nod saw him stretch beyond her. Material started to wrap around her neck and lower face, covering the gag. Turn after tight turn, tucking, knotting, tying, this silken scarf would ensure social acceptability was preserved.

A wide-brimmed hat was crammed onto her head, leaving her earplugs in plain sight. He knew they wouldn't be questioned though. To the casual observer she would appear to be nothing more than a lady protectively bundled up against the cold, warmed by her own musical choice through her earplugs, hurrying through rush hour in the seedy part of town that surrounded the station in a bid to catch her train.

Her preparation was finally finished. She had no money to catch a cab and no means to communicate anyway so her fate now lay on her ability to get to the station. With a grim determination, Katarina resolved to succeed, to show him, make that train and win her promised freedom, even if she had to crawl there in those damn boots.

CHAPTER III - The Outside World

As h
e swung the door open, Katarina tottered after it, attached as she still was to the hook on its inside. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the familiar hotel corridor yawn before her. Now though, it was not simply a route to the lift. Now it somehow seemed darker, the lights barely penetrating the gloom, more foreboding, dangerous, exposing her as it would to the intrigued scrutiny of the outside world.

With a firm push of a knee to her butt, she was propelled outside, unaware that he'd already retrieved the leash from the hook as she focussed on the corridor outside. Startled, she struggled to regain her balance as a fall without hands would’ve hurt more than just her pride.

The turning of the door handle to the next room snapped her head as much as it would go to the right and Katarina flung herself back toward her own room, only to crash against the door as it slammed shut in her face.

Frozen. Not even daring to breath. Katarina pressed herself against her door as a laughing couple spilled out, oblivious in the embrace of fresh love. She could have had three heads but they wouldn’t have noticed her and once they had disappeared around the corner, she gathered herself. She flung her shoulder against the door once, twice but it was more in frustration than hope. There was only one real option and so with tentative steps she set off toward the elevator, gaining speed and momentum despite her enforced gait.

Her first challenge was to press the call button. She tried to tilt forward but the bite of the corset into her ribs was soon too much. Bending her head forward was also soon discounted as the posture collar choked off her efforts.

Torn of yet one more vestige of pride, she carefully knelt on one knee before the button, coat parting to reveal the sheen of her latexed leg and pressed it with her nose to summon the next part of her journey. The mercury of the benwa balls sloshed within her, creating a decidedly unwelcome distraction. The call button glowed red to reward her success and with difficulty she rose back to her feet, leaning into the cold wall, her thigh burning in protest at lifting her.

A resounding 'bong' that she could not hear heralded the arrival of the elevator, the doors sliding back to reveal an empty car, much to her relief. Katarina carefully stepped inside, her heels retorting loudly on the fake marble floor. Moving instinctively to the rear of the car, further away of prying eyes, the lift soon lurched upward. So eager was she to find the car’s corner that she’d forgotten to press the button for the ground floor.

One step forward to correct her oversight was accompanied by a startling tug on her body. Katarina turned this way and that, the very act torturous because of the restrictive combination of corset and collar. The elevator hurried on its assigned upward journey as she twisted to unhook her coat from the handrail, desperate not to have it fall open. She subconsciously sucked on the latex cock in her mouth as a child would a dummy, seeking comfort in a threatening situation. Her reward was again liquid. The texture of the thick, gloopy soup of nutrients and rehydration salts reminded her of boyfriends past. It was so difficult just to do simple things and, caught there, the enormity of the task ahead washed over her.

A second loud 'bong' announced the elevator’s arrival to a new floor to all but her. Katarina froze wide eyed as the doors slid open to allow Mr Average Businessman to enter. The man barely noticed the shrouded woman who could barely breathe. She pressed to the rear of the car as if trying to melt into the wall. He prodded at his smartphone with a studied ferocity, engrossed in it, pausing only to stab a finger on the button for the lobby.

When the elevator arrived, Mr Average Businessman trooped out with a grunted “Good Morning to you, too,” head down, still buried in his phone. A tug, a twist and finally Katarina unhooked her coat from the corner of the handrail, following in his wake, the doors shutting symbolically behind her.

Slowly, she slipped through the lobby, trying to quieten the strike of footfalls she could feel but not hear. She moved with all the grace she could summon, difficult with the dangerous heels and intrusive stabbing of the butt plug. The dark sunglasses hid her worried eyes to any that may be curious about the tall woman with the strange stride. To Katarina’s relief, she went unnoticed by all as they busied themselves around the foyer, checking in, checking out, checking phones.

The outside world lay beyond the hotel’s glass doors. Normally pretty innocuous, normally just
there,
it was now a threat to her freedom with its inherent bustle. She didn’t want to go out there but it was her only real choice. Katarina hesitated but when a bellhop swung open a door with a courteous bow, she surged forward again, spurred by knowing that the clock was fast ticking.

She felt the cold air of the late autumn afternoon on the small slit of exposed face as she stepped carefully down the entrance steps. Her inner voice screamed at her, ‘Marble. Why do hotels always love fucking marble?’ Her ankles fought to keep her erect as the mercury-filled balls sloshed their exquisite pressure, echoing the stunted descent of the steps.

It was the same world as yesterday. Now though it seemed different. Foreboding, more threatening and dangerous in so many new ways. Adrenalin began to course through her, quickening her shallowed breathing as she prepared to strike out in the direction of the station.

Each crack in the uneven sidewalk seemed to beckon her towards it, tempting her to trip, to fall, to fail. With intense concentration she began to make her way towards her goal, while her constantly stimulated body screamed for focus of its own with an agenda she knew would only see her falter. 'Why the hell don't they repair these properly?'

Her normal, confident sashay was now forcibly replaced by a short, mincing stutter. The liquid distraction within still lapped her g-spot for attention, causing her to pause, needing it calmed. Immelmann had crafted a situation totally alien to her. When the mood took her, Katarina would stride down the street, head held high, revelling in being the centre of attention as heads turned to take in her beauty. She craved a return to that familiarity as she kept to the shadows cast by tall buildings in the failing evening sun, desperately trying to remain invisible to the crowd. This discomfort, the feeling of needing to hide, was planned, she was at least sure of that.

“Hurry now girl.” His voice exploded in her ears. Head held tightly forward by the rigid leather of the posture collar and startled by the sudden intrusion, Katarina quickened her pace, electrified by the thought that he was still close but tempered by a desire to reassert some independence. She would hurry, sure, but she would hurry for her, not for him, she had
nothing
for him.

A clock sited above a jewellery shop measured her progress as she moved with a steady pace towards the station, flagstone by flagstone, block by block. It would be tight; the delay in merely leaving the hotel had seen to that already. Nothing else could be allowed to faze her in her quest for release, and so she quickened her pace while the hand of the clock ticked off another minute.

Crossing lights seemed to be staging a conspiracy as yet another red delayed her and, despite a withering glare from behind dark glasses and the frustrated stomp of a boot, refusing to turn green. Her mistake was instantly clear. The harsh retort of her heel attracted attention. A number of people turned, then just as quickly snapped their heads away, disgusted at the socially unacceptable heels which imprisoned her feet.

One didn't look away though and as the youth approached her with hungry eyes, a dark weight settled at the pit of Katarina’s stomach. His accidental bump to her shoulder as the crowd jostled, readying to cross, caused her to teeter and correct her balance with a series of stuttered short steps. “Can I help you, Miss?” His short question went unheard as he gnawed on chewing gum.

The smell of cheap aftershave invaded her nostrils as unseen to him, her eyes darted around for escape and sanctuary. She’d seen his lips move but could only guess at what he was saying. The earplugs drowned out all noise and she feared what he may do.

Katarina’s mind raced. She chewed on the latex cock with renewed vigour, releasing yet more of the saline fluids that kicked up memories of relationships past. A thought whispered in the back of her mind that she was being conditioned, but she needed it; it offered a rare comfort in a dangerous world.

Her lack of answer only seemed to encourage him further and he leaned into her, snaking an arm around her severely nipped waist. In
his
head he was helping her balance but in
hers
, invading a taboo. His touch broke the stitching on the sleeve, dislodging part of it from the pocket and causing the some stuffing to spill to the floor.

He would find out, Katarina was sure of that. She looked at him in alarm, danger was everywhere. He wasn’t the type to help, that was clear and the realisation that under close scrutiny he would see what she wore, what imprisoned her, panicked her as never before. Lifting her leg, she drove it back down just as the green light flashed up, jagging her sharp stiletto hard into the top of his foot.

Katarina launched herself across the road, desperate to put some distance between them as he crumpled, clawing at the pain that had just exploded in his foot, cursing the silent, aloof bitch he had only been trying to help.

She had to reach her destination before the youth gathered his senses and came after her again. Spotting the station in the distance Katarina broke into the best run she could.

The sloshing of liquid within the benwa balls was driving her to a state of erotic distraction while the butt plug reamed its own rhythm. Her metronomic ponytail threatened to displace the hat that had been pressed hard on her head and was matched by the hidden washing to and fro of mercury.

Already breathing quick and shallow as the corset compressed her lungs, the rare cocktail of adrenalin, the heat of her outfit and the exertion she was putting herself under caused her to pant uncontrollably. The inserts worked her insides, driving her arousal and further fuelling her adrenalin rush. Her world starting to spin with a lack of the oxygen, Katarina staggered sideways, finding herself leaning in a shop doorway as the balled liquid incessantly lapped inside her.

The deadline, the need to get to that train, to find the wheel, find the key, needed it to settle but the assault inside was too powerful and her body took control. Katarina’s laboured breathing fuelled the liquid’s already steady cadence, and, in turn, that constant panting only made breathing all the harder, creating a virtuous circle that would not be denied.

She was close now. She could see the station in the distance but she was also so close within herself, so close to the release her body now dearly craved. The torment of the proximity of her goal and the burning needs of her body tore her mind in two. So close now, so close. She had to get on, had to keep going but her body knew better. Her willpower was faltering and as it splintered, she could endure the erotic torture no more, finally conceding defeat. There was nothing left and as Katarina slumped in the dark doorway, she gave in to the shockwaves of exquisite pleasure exploding from deep within.

CHAPTER IV - The Station

‘
Fuck! No!’ Katarina's mind screamed as her body caved to its carnal needs. ‘Oh God, yes!’ it added in delight as silken shocks shivered their way down to the very tips of her pointed toes.

This was one of those moments when a single cigarette would have been bliss and she rested there, wrung out. Her breathing slowly calmed and Katarina began to scratch together the pieces of her sanity, looking around, half expecting to see a crowd. There was none though, and in that, she was relieved at least but, as her brain plugged itself back in, her eyes settled on the imposing building just a handful of blocks away.

The station and her freedom. She'd not forgotten but her body had defined a different priority and now the trouble it had left her in struck her like a hard slap. As she crouched there, crumpled on her haunches, his voice broke into her becalmed state. “I do
so
look forward to having you as a plaything.”

No sooner had his voice burst in on her, it disappeared, pitching her back to the solitude of silence. It was the threat of a future she didn't want and spurred by his gloating, she pushed herself erect with a groan, thigh muscles protesting, to perch afresh on those torturous heels.

Defiantly, Katarina emerged from the doorway with a renewed focus to get to her goal in time enough to win her freedom. She screamed into the leather panelled gag, venting her frustration, pointlessly challenging him, her invisible yet constant tormentor.

Three blocks were all that stood between her and her end goal. She could clearly see the elaborately decorated clock above the station’s main entrance ticking remorselessly toward her deadline. There was still time, though it would be close, and Katarina struck out once again, so determined that even if the eyes of the world were watching her she wouldn’t care.

Try as she might, the sway of her hips could not be prevented, exaggerated as it was by the ever tighter grip of the corset and the unnatural gait the stringent boots forced her to adopt.

The clock’s hand ticked off another minute. “Better hurry girl, no time to waste now,” his voice taunted. Katarina yearned to look around for him but she knew that she had neither the luxury of time nor the ability to move her head. So she stalked forward, held as she was in a forward gaze by the tough leather of the collar.

No. Beating the deadline was the only way to win her independence and Katarina redoubled her efforts, quickening her pace as the mercury-filled balls within responded again with their rhythmic pressure. She'd barely come down from the last climax yet could already feel the next building. Stubbornly, she bit down on the latex phallus, mentally ticking off first one block, then two in an increasingly difficult effort to stay focussed on her goal.

People hurried past, lost in their own journeys home as she was went unnoticed at the edge of the crowds. A shoulder barged her, causing Katarina to briefly sway back on the impossible heels and have to fight to stay upright. Undeterred, she pressed on, close, oh so close, and as she crossed the final road, she glanced up at the clock now clearly showing just two minutes before the scheduled departure time of the train she had to reach.

She was there. She could do it. She already knew the station and she threaded her way skilfully through the throng toward her ultimate destination with a renewed confidence. She could even see the platforms and as she set off across the vast concourse, she afforded herself a smile of relief behind her gag.

The constant penetration of her ass by the plug and the sloshing of the mercury were now irrelevant as her mind started to rush with thoughts of freedom. Perhaps even revenge.

Yes, revenge. Katarina knew exactly who had caused her such discomfort, such humiliation and she was not one to sit idly by and let him repeat such an attack. There wouldn’t be a next girl blinded by his promises of stardom and fortune. Sitting back was for submissive types and, while the occasional release of control thrilled her, in most relationships she'd taken a less passive role, directing the play, preferring to cuff than be cuffed - even though they were usually pink and furry.

A departures screen told her Platform six as she passed under it. Pressing on, she checked again at another screen. No room for error. She had to be 100% sure and she was. The City Express, departing 5.30pm, Platform six and she was nearly there and right on time. She could even see the train now. Carriage eight would be at the back so closer to her. Increasing her pace, she closed the last few metres to her freedom.

There were no barriers at this station. She just had to get to the train. The hard part was done and her spirits soared. For the first time with any real certainty, she knew she'd done it.

People with cases and overnight bags struggled alongside her, hurrying to reach their carriage as a whistle blew to sound a warning of imminent departure. None thought anything odd of the muffled figure in their midst clacking down the gentle incline of the entrance way, leaning slightly against the large bag slung casually over a young traveller’s shoulder as she sought to keep her balance on the slope.

The platform itself levelled out and she picked up speed, disregarding how the key within her boot chafed at her foot. The heavy padlock securing the two ends of the catsuit’s zip swung violently beneath her crotch, thumping first one inner thigh and then the other. The many sensual inputs he'd inflicted on her, the many violations of her body, now paled as she reached level with the rear of the train.

Katarina couldn't twist her head to look at the car, couldn't even twist her body thanks to the confining corset, the laces of which had now dried and hauled the garment even tighter. He had stolen her natural flexibility and as she redirected her approach to point at the train, she saw a large number seven on the window as two sharp whistle blasts signalled to everyone else a final warning of it readiness to leave.

'Seven? SEVEN? How the hell had she missed a car?' The thoughts jarred in her head, a contortion at the pit of her stomach. Katarina adjusted her stance to point towards the last car but it wasn't there. It wasn’t fucking there! This WAS the last car and it was number
seven
. A fear gnawed at her as she corrected again and steered herself towards the next car forward. There had been a mistake, they had staged the cars the wrong way round. Eight was in the wrong place, it had to be.

Six. It was car six! The number registered in her head and her fears shook high on the Richter scale. “Did you really think I was gonna let you go, girl?” His voice resonated, triggering the first of a flood of tears to stream down her cheeks.

The hopelessness of her situation, her
utter
frustration, hammered home and Katarina slumped against the carriage, spent.

She couldn't see as the guard ran to move her away from the train. Her earplugs blocked his shouts, her tears took her vision and she was oblivious to the frantic warnings. Her only companions now were the sound of her own pounding heart and inward wails of despair as Immelmann’s voice fell silent after shattering her hope. The urgent questions and shouted warnings of the guard remained unheard, the movement of his lips unseen, even as he arrived to shout in her face.

Hands tugged at her but she remained where she was, as if the proximity to the train would prevent any descent into the next level Immelmann had clearly prepared for her. Katarina wasn't going to move whatever they did to her and, as the station clock ticked to 5:31, the increasingly angry guard called for police help on his radio.

Still she resisted, trying to delay the departure of the train as if it represented her last bridge to freedom. But just as she registered a pressure at the top of her arm, ten thousand volts crashed into her body, compelling a million nerve endings to scream. What little air she had in her compressed lungs was ripped from them. She crumpled as if the fierce jolt had shattered every bone. The train and Katarina’s hope pulled away.