Authors: Claire Thompson
Continuing the tour, he led Mia down the hall. She stumbled
along behind him in the hobble chains. Glancing back at her, Ellis remarked,
“You have no grace. That will be part of your daily training. You will learn to
move like a dancer, no matter if you’re hobbled or if you’re wearing six-inch
stiletto heels.” He pinched a roll of fat on her midriff, adding, “Once we work
this flab off you, it’ll be easier for you to move with the grace befitting a
well-trained slave girl. We have a lot of work to do to whip you into shape.”
He grinned at his own pun. “So much to do!” he enthused, rubbing his erection
through his shorts. “I can’t wait to get started. But first”—he stopped in
front of the last door at the end of the hall—”welcome to my dungeon.”
~*~
Mia stared aghast around the large room, which was filled
with all sorts of strange equipment, including a big metal X with cuffs at all
four ends. A few feet away stood a wide, padded leather bench with thick straps
placed at intervals along it. There was what looked like wooden stocks, with a
place for the head and hands, and some kind of black rubber webbed contraption
in the corner, like a human-sized spider web with strips of Velcro hanging off
it. There were several thick posts that rose from floor to ceiling. One wall
was entirely covered in coils of rope, lengths of chain and a terrifying array
of whips, canes, riding crops and paddles as well as leather hoods and gags
with brightly colored rubber balls of various sizes at their centers.
There were windows in the room, or she presumed there were
windows, but they were completely covered by heavy black satin curtains, which
lent a kind of funereal air to the already eerie atmosphere of the dungeon. The
place was like something out of an S&M horror movie, except this was no
fantasy—it was all too terrifyingly real.
Mia tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry. Was it
hunger or terror that caused the dizziness moving over her? What was going to
happen to her? How many other women had he abducted, tortured and… She couldn’t
bring herself to finish the thought.
“Have you ever been whipped, Mia?”
“What?” she blurted, her voice squeaking with shock. What
kind of a question was that?
Ellis gave a sudden tug on the leash and she stumbled
forward, coughing as the choke collar tightened around her throat. “You forget
yourself.” His voice was hard. “You will address me with respect or you
will
pay the price.”
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir,” Mia said hurriedly, gasping with
relief when he released his tight hold on the chain around her neck.
Ellis regarded her for a moment, his eyes moving slowly over
her. How she longed to cover her chubby body with her hands, and to rip the
choke collar from her neck. But the thought of what he would surely do to her
if she did either thing kept her arms limp at her sides.
“Answer the question,” Ellis persisted. “Have you ever been
whipped?”
“No, Sir,” Mia replied, barely able to hear herself over the
thumping of her heart.
“It can, of course, be quite painful. But it can also be a
very erotic experience.”
Mia stared blankly at the handsome man, trying to figure out
what the hell he was talking about. She was vaguely aware of BDSM as a form of
deviant sexual play, but she had certainly never engaged in it herself. She
could sort of imagine an erotic scene involving silk scarves and maybe even a playful
spanking with a man you loved and trusted, but she couldn’t comprehend the idea
of being whipped in some lunatic’s torture chamber as anything remotely
approaching the erotic.
“I can see you don’t yet understand, but you will. You
will.” Ellis gazed down at her with glittering eyes. “You’ll be whipped daily.
Not only whipped, but cropped, paddled and caned. I’ll teach you to crave the
whip, Mia. To beg for the cane, to plead for the paddle. You’ll learn to
sexualize the experience, to associate the pain of a beating with the pleasure
of sexual release, until the two are so intertwined in your psyche that you
will require the one to experience the other.”
The dizziness again assailed Mia and she swayed, feeling her
knees start to buckle. A strange whistling sound filled her ears and gray spots
danced before her eyes. Her mouth filled with saliva and she suddenly realized
she was going to pass out. Her eyes slid closed as the floor rose to meet her.
Mia opened her eyes, completely disoriented. She was lying
flat and staring up at the ceiling. She was restrained, thick leather straps
holding her in place on a wide, padded bench, with straps across her shoulders
and just below her breasts. Her legs were bent, her feet in some kind of
stirrups, her bottom on the edge of the bench. Where the hell was she?
“Welcome back.” Ellis’ deep, commanding voice jerked her
into instant and total recall. She must have fainted. As if reading her mind,
Ellis added, “You passed out. Luckily, I caught you. You were out for a good
three minutes. I was about to splash your face with cold water.”
Mia lifted her head as much as she was able in her
restrained position. “What is this…Sir? Please, let me up. Please, Sir?”
A small, cruel smile curved his lips. “What a silly thing to
ask. Why would I go to all this trouble to tie you down, only to let you up?
No, no.” Ellis shook his head. “I’ve got the wax heating. I decided this was as
good a time as any to strip off that unbecoming pubic hair of yours. I’m going
to give you your first Brazilian wax. At least, I assume it’s your first?”
“Brazilian wax?” Mia repeatedly blankly, and then hastened
to answer the question. “Yes, Sir. I—I don’t know what that is, Sir.”
And I
don’t want to find out!
Ellis picked up a pair of barber’s scissors from a counter
set against the wall beside the exam table. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m
doing. I’m quite expert at it, as a matter of fact, as I never could abide
pubic hair on a woman, no matter how sparse. I’ll have you smooth as a baby
before you know it. The process hurts, but not nearly as much as, say, a caning
on your bare cunt.”
Mia’s blood ran cold at this terrifying pronouncement.
Lifting her head, she tried to twist out of her confines but found she couldn’t
move a muscle. Her arms were restrained, caught in the same wide leather strap
that held down her torso, and cuffed at the wrists to the table. Her feet were
strapped into the stirrups by her ankle cuffs. He’d removed the apron and
hobble chain, apparently, while she’d been out cold. She let her head fall
back, too wiped out by fear, hunger and exhaustion to even voice a protest, not
that it would do any good.
Ellis moved to stand between her legs. Mia stiffened as she
felt him tug at her pubic hair. “First I’m going to trim you, so the wax can
adhere effectively,” he informed her. “I don’t want any squealing or whining
while I’m doing this. You will stay quiet and still. If you make noise, I’ll
beat you. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” Mia whispered, though she had no idea if she
could will herself into silence. She could hear the snipping sound as he cut
away the curls and she tensed, trying to still the trembling in her body and
limbs, terrified he might cut her skin. Finally he set down the scissors.
Mia felt his fingers pressing hard on her mons, pulling the
skin beneath her pubic hair taut. She jumped in her restraints when she felt
the first brush of hot melted wax. After about ten seconds, once the wax had
cooled and tightened against her skin, he pressed a fingertip beneath one edge
of the strip of hardened wax. Without warning, he ripped the hardened wax away,
leaving a small rectangle of burning pain in its place.
Again and again he repeated the process, which was
especially painful on her labia. Mia whimpered and moaned, trying her best to
stay silent. When he ripped the hardened wax from the delicate skin around her
asshole, Mia bit her lower lip so hard in her effort to contain her scream that
she drew blood. Along with the stinging pain of the wax being ripped from her
skin came the stinging humiliation of enduring what he was doing to her.
She lay exhausted, tears rolling into her hair as he used a
tweezers to pull out any lingering hairs. Finally he rubbed soothing oil into
her flesh, his touch gentle, almost welcome after the painful waxing. His
fingers lingered on her labia, stroking downward toward her asshole. Mia
flinched, wishing like hell she could close her legs. She jerked, unable to
stifle the small yelp when she felt a hard finger pressing into her anus.
“Stop tensing,” Ellis ordered. “When you tense, it’s a
form of resistance. That translates to disobedience. The sooner you learn to
obey me in all things, the better it will go for you.” He pushed the finger in
deeper. “You’re so tight. I’m going to enjoy taking your anal virginity.” She
felt a second finger pushing inside her and she yelped again, her stinging mons
almost forgotten with this new humiliation.
Mercifully, the fingers were removed, but Ellis’ next words
caused her to pant with trepidation and fear. “Your asshole needs opening up
before I fuck you. A butt plug would be just the thing. Ever had a butt plug
shoved up your ass?” He laughed. “No, of course you haven’t. Well, there’s a
first time for everything.”
Ellis did something at the counter and then held up a
phallus for Mia to see. She stared at the object in horror. It appeared to be
made of some kind of hard, shiny black rubber, and it was shaped like a rocket,
narrow at the head and widening at the base before narrowing again. Surely he
wasn’t really going to stick that thing inside her ass, was he?
Mia squeezed her eyes shut as she felt something cold and
gooey against her asshole, which she realized must be lubricant. When she felt
the press of hard rubber, she tensed, unable to keep silent any longer. “No!”
she cried. “Please, don’t hurt me!”
“If I want to hurt you, that’s just exactly what I’ll do.
When are you going to get that through your head, girl? Your sole job is to
endure. Stop resisting me.” To emphasize his point, he pushed hard against the
phallus. Mia began to pant in her terror and pain, but Ellis appeared unmoved.
“There,” he announced finally, stepping back. “It’s all the
way in.”
Mia lay on the table, still panting as she tried to adjust
to the invading phallus inside her. Ellis moved to stand beside her. He bent
down, lightly kissing her lips as he stroked the hair out of her face. This
peculiar tenderness in the face of his cruelty undid her, and Mia began to cry.
Ellis shook his head, pulling back. “Stop that crying. Your
eyes are red and puffy and your nose is running. I don’t like that. It shows a
singular lack of grace.” He frowned at her, as if Mia could control her tears
at will. Beneath his hard gaze, she sniffled and blinked, but the tears kept coming.
Ellis gave a snort of disgust. “Girls who can’t control
their tears don’t get any food.” He shrugged. “Ah, well, if that’s how you want
it…” He let the sentence hang. At the mention of food, Mia’s stomach awoke with
a vengeance, her intestines gurgling, her stomach twisting in its emptiness.
“Please,” she begged, sniffling as she tried to blink back
her tears. “I’m trying to stop. I promise I am, Sir.”
He regarded her a moment and finally nodded. “I can see
you’re trying.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb.
After a moment he stepped back, moving to stand between her legs.
“You look incredibly hot like that, with your legs spread
wide and the butt plug nestled between your ass cheeks.” He pushed against the
base of the plug and then ran his fingers over her oiled labia. “Your cunt is
all swollen and pink from the waxing. I think it’s time to eroticize this
experience for you, my dear. You’re going to have an orgasm now.”
Though she couldn’t deny his fingers felt good against her
pussy, Mia knew there was no way she could orgasm, not tied down to this exam
table as she was, with a butt plug shoved up her ass. She would have to fake it
so he would let her up—so he would give her something to eat.
Again she felt the cold goo of lubricant, this time being
spread over her denuded pussy, and then something hard but yielding was placed
against her spread labia. She lifted her head, afraid what she would see. Ellis
was standing between her legs holding what looked like a baton with a fat ball
at its end, the ball pressed between her legs. He flicked a switch at the base
of the baton and Mia squealed as she felt the sudden, intense vibration
thrumming against her clit.
In spite of her fear, in spite of the plug lodged in her
ass, in spite of her hunger and her exhaustion, the steady, intense whir of the
vibrator at her sex sent a swirl of sensation through her. It was so powerful
she couldn’t quite tell if it was pleasure or pain, but whatever it was, it
wasn’t long before her body began to shudder of its own accord, punctuated by
periodic involuntary muscle spasms. Her clit felt swollen and ultra-sensitized
beneath the steady pulse of the sex toy. “Oh god,” she heard herself moan. “Oh
god.” Her body felt electrified, the nearly overpowering sensations focused in
her sex completely taking her over. She felt herself tumbling into a powerful
orgasm, the feeling not unlike being dragged beneath the waves by an undertow,
unable to breathe, unable to think. She heard someone screaming, a high-pitched
keening sound, and was vaguely aware she was the one making the sound. She
longed to close her legs, to pull away from the throbbing, pulsing ball at her
clit, but she couldn’t move, except to shudder and thrust helplessly against it
as she came again and again.
Finally, mercifully, the pulsing stopped, though her pussy
continued to throb from the overstimulation. Over the beating of her heart, she
heard Ellis’ voice. “…forgot the first rule. You came without permission. For
that, you’ll have to be punished.”