Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Kirsty, a Descent Into Slavery

by PaganWriter

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© Copyright 2022 - PaganWriter - Used by permission

Storycodes: F+/f+; bond; latex; rubber; hood; anal; breast; chain; collar; corset; gag; boots; catsuit; dildo; electro; punishment; heels; hobble; maid; bodymod; piercing; pain-slut; torture; urine; cons; reluct; XXX

Continues from

I have tried to ensure that everything that happens in my story is at least plausible, with imagination. My characters need to eat, drink and excrete: and avoid deep vein thrombosis.

This is the second part (of three) and is rather darker than the first, but not as dark as the third will be. My Lady had been hiding her real identity under the guise of being a house slave but revealed part of her true self at the end of Part 1. Kirsty realises she is in the hands of a group of very deviant people but an attempt at reasoning her way out is treated with punishment. She is to be the centre of attention at a party with a difference. Enjoy.

Part Two

ML said nothing more that afternoon, she had just pressed her lips once more to Kirsty’s then walked off. Kirsty wondered about what she had heard. Was My Lady really to become a Madam and if so, how had that come about, and more interestingly, why now? Where did this leave Kirsty? While she realised she could have no friends here, she needed someone to relate to even if they were superior to her; which of course everyone was. Was ML just playing a game or did she have a thing for her. She thought ML was about providing for her but now it seems SHE had been provided FOR her. Was this the real reason she had been invited along, to be someone’s personal slave? Kirsty had assumed she was to be a general purpose dogsbody with no decisions to make, a human robot to be instructed to do anything by anybody but with no will of her own.

Even as she sat here, back in the warm atrium, her piss-bag slowly filling, her arms useless and her shoulders aching, she realised that the thoughts she was having were not those of an automaton but of an intelligent, analytical woman. She had reason on the one hand, but a desire for blind obedience on the other; the paradox was not something easily resolved. Perhaps she was not the abject slave she thought she wanted to be for these coming months. Could she forget who she had been – a rich and powerful business woman? This was fine in fantasy, fine for an earth-shattering orgasm, fine for those who couldn’t reason out their lives, but right at this moment it might not be for Kirsty: Did she want out? She'd found she loved the rubber and the bondage and the implied sexuality, but she wondered about going home, taking it all back into her mind as a sexual fantasy and going about her real life in the real world. Her mind was not made up and she stood, pain shooting up through her feet as her toes were pushed once again into the tightness of her shoes. She would go and see Matron and see if she would talk to Madam Omega about perhaps being allowed to go home, at least for a while.

She clip-clopped along the often-deserted corridors – where WAS everybody all day, what did they do? – and made her way to Matron’s room.

She tapped on the door with her foot, the best she could do. It opened and Matron’s rubber-covered face looked out.


“May I have a word, My Mistress?”

“Of course dear, come in.” Matron stood aside and Kirsty walked in.

Matron closed the door and went behind her desk and sat down. “Please girl, sit. What is on your mind?”

Kirsty sat on the edge of the tubular steel chair, unable to sit back because of her hands. The anal probe let her know it was still there. Matron put her hands together in a prayer fashion and leaned forward, placed her fingertips against her lips, her elbows on the table, and looked at her.

“My Mistress," Kirsty began, "I have had a long discussion with myself this afternoon and I wonder if this is for me. I have been dressed in rubber for two days and my skin is raw underneath, especially where I have been whipped.”

Kirsty felt a slight thrill when she used the word, ‘whipped’, it was rather erotic, but still…

“My feet are killing me, my shoulders ache and I desperately want to stretch my fingers. I think I have taken my fantasies and tried them out but I’m not sure I can stay here. Who would be able to permit me to go home, My Mistress?”

Matron maintained her pose, looking first at Kirsty’s rubber face and then down at her desk, tapping her praying fingers against her lips as if contemplating what to do next. It was a full minute before she leaned forward putting one hand seemingly in her lap, the other she placed on Kirsty’s breast as if reaching out in sympathy. The hand in the lap pressed a hidden button under the table and then Matron stood up, shaking her head slowly and sadly.

“I cannot do anything for you my dear, bound in my own rubber prison as I am, and I have little influence over the goings on here. I have called upon a higher authority, as I am bidden to do in these circumstances, and you must entreat those that had faith, those that gave you a place, those that thought you desired a position of service.”

Kirsty did not like the way Matron was speaking, there was a big ‘but’ coming somewhere. Matron continued…

“I fear you may not have understood the letter you were sent, although it was made very clear. I fear you have failed to let yourself fall into the role that you thought you desired. You came here voluntarily, to obey, but you do not obey. You think this is a game, a fantasy that you can stop any time you wish, that we are just here to fulfil your fantasies, your desires, your wants and needs; this is not the case. Here there are no pauses, beyond that which the Authorities decree, there is no 'going home'. There are no safe words, no method of escaping that for which you have volunteered, you must endure until your time is up.”

Kirsty heard a noise and looked towards the door, fear rising in her chest.

Matron continued, “This mansion exists not only to make every desire come true but also to make money for its owners. Your desire was to obey and we will not have fulfilled our end of the contract if we do not ensure that you do exactly that which you requested. Your end of the bargain was to obey us and stay here for four months. You have been provided with every opportunity to show your obedience and you have often failed accidentally, but now you are trying to fail deliberately; this will not happen. You are to be given a chance to willingly prove yourself to us, this chance does not come without a cost. In the end it will make no difference as you will not be leaving any time soon, it's just that if you reaffirm your willingness to stay here it may go a little easier than if you rebel.”

While Matron was speaking, the door had quietly opened and ML and the two Dommes now came in. The Dommes closed the door behind them and stood there while ML approached Kirsty, bent down and put her hand on the fearful woman’s rubbered shoulder. She took off her own goggles and then removed Kirsty’s and they looked into each other's eyes. ML cradled Kirsty’s cheeks in her hands

“Kirsty, may I call you Kirsty for a moment?” Kirsty thought they could call her anything they wanted but nodded slowly anyway.

“Kirsty, my love, you said you wanted to obey and I want to give an order for you to obey, the only order you are ever really given here, do you understand?”

“I think I do…but,” said Kirsty. ML put a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture.

“And what is that order, Kirsty?”

Kirsty felt fear, and resignation.

“You are ordering me to obey, My Mistress.” ML nodded to the Dommes.

The two Dommes pulled Kirsty to her feet, moved her into the centre of the the room and attached her collar to a steel cable attached to a hand winch, proceeding then to lift her by her neck until her tortured toes were barely on the ground, her collar-bound wrists struggling against their chains.

“And will you obey, Kirsty?” said ML, almost with compassion.

Kirsty now understood her position here and she knew she was not going home today. This was no game, no scenario that stopped once pleasure had been taken. This was what she had said she wanted and now she must want it, need it, desire it, for this was all there was now, and all that there was to come.

Kirsty gasped through her half-choked throat:


“I thank you, slut.” ML touched Kirsty gently on the lips then stood back, “It is now time to pay for this opportunity and you will pay right here and right now”.

The Dommes took out their riding crops, and as the electro-shocking beast in Kirsty’s ass once again came energetically to life, Kirsty screamed…and the whipping began.


Kirsty had only been whipped for a minute and the electro-shocking device in her ass had only been on half that time but a lot of pain can be inflicted in a minute and when she was lowered, she collapsed to the floor exhausted after thrashing around in her bonds while continuously screaming in pain. When she had calmed down and recovered somewhat, the Dommes removed the cable and stashed it back against the wall, lifting her to her feet before leaving without a word. Matron had said nothing during all this and still sat in her own chair but if her hood had not covered her face she would have looked flushed and only now did she take her hand from her crotch, and place two rubber-covered fingers in her mouth for a moment.

“Stand up, slut.” ML said to Kirsty. She struggled to her feet.

ML stood looking at Kirsty, both of them still had their eyes uncovered; Kirsty’s were red with tears. Kirsty could see ML had changed, she had stood implacably in front of her while she was being whipped and although she still wore the hood of a slave she no longer had the demeanour of someone subservient. She stood taller somehow, more confident, more assertive. ML turned to Matron…

“Sorry to have troubled you Matron. I think we have reinforced the position of this little slut and I shall make it my personal mission to ensure we have no more issues with her.”

“I thank you, Mistress.” replied Matron, standing and curtsying. Matron had obviously been pre-informed of ML′s change of stature and behaved accordingly.

“Do you have a penis gag to hand?”

“Yes, of course.”

Matron opened a drawer and passed said item to ML. The gag consisted of a wide strap that would go over the mouth and around the back of the head, buckling in the nape, with a small strap that went under the chin to prevent the wearer from opening their mouth further than the gag stretched it. Affixed to the mouth part was a two inch long facsimile of a penis, about an inch in diameter.

“Open your mouth, don’t even think of trying to open it less than you actually can.” Kirsty opened her mouth as wide as possible.” ML looked carefully then said to Matron, “Hmm, next one up.”

Matron passed another, not any longer but now an inch and a half in diameter. ML examined it. “Yes that should do.” She didn’t apply it but put the gag-strap on the table.

“Matron, I need to use the bathroom. Give her water and sustenance, she is not to sit down or speak but she may kneel if you wish it. It is now 14:40, I shall be back at 15:10, use the time as you see fit, enjoy.” And with that, ML strode out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Kirsty seemed to be in permanent agony now. Her whipping from yesterday, the strokes on her breasts earlier and now the vicious punishment she had just suffered seemed to have become one big burning fire. Above all this though was the pain in her feet. She had worn heels in her previous life – as she was coming to see it – but not like this, not for so long. In real life who slept in their shoes? And such shoes, five inches of torment lifted her heels off the floor and her body weight pushed her toes down again. She was beginning to forget she actually had hands as she hadn’t seen them for many hours and the novelty of having breasts that stuck out like a dead-heat in a Zeppelin race was beginning to wear off. It was nice to be able to see properly again although Kirsty didn’t expect it to last. The words that had been said and the whipping she had experienced had truly changed her mind about going home, they weren’t going to let her and despite the pain and perhaps because of it, she no longer wanted to. She DID want to obey, to be punished and to be made to serve. She wanted something more suitable in her ass, she wanted to be ‘modified’ even though she had no idea what that could mean; she wanted to obey.

Matron pushed her to her knees and sat on a chair in front of her. She lifted her rubber skirt hem and pulled Kirsty’s mouth into her shaven cunt before dropping the skirt over Kirsty's hood. Kirsty, without hesitation, used her mouth to carry out the required ministrations to Matron's great pleasure, feeling the warmth and moisture while taking in the scent of Matron's sex.

My Lady came back right on time. Kirsty had been fed and watered and now stood on her painful shoes while matron wiped her rubber-clad thighs and her sex with a cool cloth. Without a word, ML picked up the gag and after pushing the penis into Kirsty’s mouth, tightened the straps. Kirsty now breathed through her nose. although with difficulty she could get a little extra air around the gag. Drool started to form inside and Kirsty tried to slurp it back, only partially succeeding; her goggles were reapplied, darkening the world once more.

“Is this good for the morning?” asked ML, pointing at the piss-bag.

Matron replied that it would probably need changing before bed as the slut had had quite a lot to drink. ML took a spare.

“I shall have a different title before the day is out, you will be informed of it.” said ML and attaching a lead to Kirsty’s collar, pulled her out of Matron’s office.

ML led her slave by the neck along this hallway and that corridor, up flights of stairs, another hallway, another door and onward for five minutes — the speed restricted by Kirsty’s knee chain and the pains in her feet — until a door was opened and ML led Kirsty into a sumptuous room. She thought her own room was comfortable given her status, but this was most impressive (not that she'd spent much time in her own room). She wondered, since this was a Madam's room, how magnificent the Empress' rooms would be.

My Lady gently nudged Kirsty into the room and, following in, closed the door behind them.

A huge four-poster was against the wall to the left, next to the door. It had dark red velvet curtains tied back to the uprights, partially hiding steel rings embedded in the wood and had a velvet canopy. Like Kirsty’s room, there were wardrobes and chests-of-drawers a-plenty. The floor was carpeted with a deep red pile except for a marble-tiled square, nearly three metres to a side, in front of the one, floor-to-ceiling window that had no bars on it and a small balcony with iron railings outside. From the closed door, Kirsty could see the bed directly to the left, the square in front of her and then a direct line of sight from the door, past the square and thence to the window. Anyone lying in the bed would see past the tiled area and out into the grounds of the mansion. Whatever ML had done to get this room, it was surely worth it. Less attractive, to Kirsty at least, were the steel poles, a wooden framework, a sinister box and other restricting devices around or near the marble square which, Kirsty noticed, had a drain hole, the purpose of which she was sure would not elude her for too long. The square had a slight lip all around it and the marble tiles were very slightly sloped towards the drain.

ML closed the door and leaned her back against it, taking a deep breath and sighing contentedly.

“So, Kirsty, you must be wondering what has changed.” She turned to the bed and, jumping on to her back on it, looked at Kirsty and put her hands behind her head. “You arrived here as a lowly slave, lower than a simple housemaid and even lower than that idiot girl who answered the door to you and now you find yourself in this room, with a new Madam who has you as her own personal slut. Do you find this disconcerting or to your satisfaction?” Kirsty just sucked drool from her gag, unable to speak coherently.

“Go to the punishment square and kneel.”

'So that is what it is, no surprise there', thought Kirsty, and moved quickly to assume her position on her knees but upright, a painful process as the knee chain wouldn’t allow leg separation therefore the last few inches had to be done in one go, Kirsty’s knees falling to the tiles.

“Sit your bum on your legs, make yourself comfortable, well, as comfortable as you can.”

Kirsty did so, everything being so awkward with her wrists chained up her back as they were. She moved her leg a little so that the piss-bag was under no pressure; Matron had demonstrated by cruelly squeezing the bag what it felt like to have piss pushed back into her bladder while ML was away earlier; not pleasant.

“Now, I shall explain a few things. You are my slut, my possession, for the time you are here I own you. The only way to get away from me is to become a Presentation-Slave so that alternative may not be to your taste. I will constantly change how I behave with you. One moment you will be my abject slave, the next you will be my friend in bondage, in another moment I will torture you until you scream for mercy, and the next, you will be my bedmate. Your only defence against me is that which brought you to this place and that is to submit and obey. If you obey you will be safe. You will hurt, you will suffer, you will experience agonising pain and ecstatic pleasure, you will be immobilised for hours, perhaps days, you will be encased, hung, buried, pleasured and tortured, but you will be safe if you obey. Do you understand?”

Kirsty nodded, her collar restricting her movement.

“Here is the truth, slut, I am a third Madam. I have always been a Madam but I chose to appear as a simple maid/slave until the circumstances were right and also the right slut came along, that slut is you. As a maid I have been able to get close to the staff and all the newcomers, to find the one I wanted, but none have been right. None have had that intelligence but also that desire to serve…until you. When your friend and mine, Josie, told me about you….”

Kirsty’s heart jumped, Josie knew this woman!? This was set up by her friend Josie?! Josie had sent her to this slavery? Kirsty was mortified, not only had Josie informed her about this establishment, but she was also instrumental in her enslavement!

“Ah,” said ML, “I see by the stiffening of your body that you were not aware of the nature of your friend Josie. Fear not, Josie is a friend of mine, not a recruiter, she merely passed on to the establishment that you were a suitable candidate for invitation. She did mention to me that you might be that special slut for which I was looking and so I secretly watched you for weeks. Do you remember that office intern that constantly fucked up everything she did, the one that was always apologising for being a bit crap at her job? The intern…what her name was..?”

Kirsty remembered her name, her name was Janice – Janice the Menace, as she was nicknamed. The same Janice that she had taken under her wing and tried to turn into a useful member of staff. Could this be that Janice?

ML changed her voice and in a mocking faux Irish accent said, “Oim sarry miss, oim troying royally hord.”

The voice was now unmistakeable. So useless, but attractive, Janice was not a poor secretary but a powerful fetish dominant in a circle of equally deviant people, of which Josie was also apparently a member.

ML sat up and reached behind her rubber-covered head. She fiddled with the lacings and then the zip and slowly pulled her hood away from her face. Kirsty saw ‘Janice’. True, a Janice without hair or eyebrows but Janice nevertheless. Kirsty was mortified, humiliated and embarrassed, here she was bound in rubber, captive to that same fucking useless intern that she had tried so hard to help. Kirsty was angry, so fucking angry…but so humiliated and oddly aroused.

“It’s just shite, isn’t it?” ML again used the same fake Irish accent that she had used in the office, however now the face was the same but the circumstances were very different. ML reverted to what Kirsty assumed was her normal, well-spoken, English accent. “I’ve only had a shaved head like this for a relatively short while, I find it rather sexy but I'm not keeping the look and anyway I want my eyebrows back, something that’s not going to be for you for some time to come. I did try to retain my locks but couldn't hide the fact that I had hair under my hoods. See how I've tried to fit in with you all, the things I've had to do.”

Kirsty was unimpressed, 'the things SHE had to do, don't make me laugh, take a look at me', she thought.

ML arose from the bed and walked over to Kirsty, her high-heeled feet moving elegantly like a model would walk, her hips swaying below the corset, exuding sexuality.

“So slut, what do you think of all this?” ML got up and removed Kirsty’s gag.

“Janice, you little fuckwit bitch, you set me up!” shouted Kirsty as the stored saliva fell on to her bulging tits. In a movement Kirsty hardly saw, ML took a leather covered cane from a sideboard and brought it crashing down across her breasts as the ass-shocker went off and for twenty seconds Kirsty was whipped again and again as she screamed for mercy and fell on her side, her body wracked with pain, ML continuing the whipping regardless with Kirsty trying to pull her knees up to protect her body from the blows, her hands useless behind her.

ML stopped and breathed deeply. Kirsty too stopped writhing and gasped for breath, moaning softly.

“Get up slut.”

Kirsty made several attempts to sit up but was unable. ML/Janice put her hands under Kirsty’s shoulders and helped her to her feet. Kirsty took a pained breath as her toes complained again. Kirsty was at first embarrassed that Janice the Menace could have done this to her but of course realised that Janice had never really existed. She had been beaten and whipped for no real reason except the impression she had had in her own mind about why she was here, her outburst had just caused her pain, nothing more. Nothing had changed, she was here because she wanted to be, she was a masochistic slut and a warmth in her cunt suddenly came upon her as she imagined the marks that must be appearing on her skin beneath her rubber suit, what she would look like when she could finally see her abused body.

Kirsty was on her feet but in an overwhelming desire to submit brought about by her pain, her imagination and her sexual arousal, she dropped to her knees once again and said, “I thank you for my punishment My Mistress, I mistook you for someone I thought knew and I was disrespectful. May I ask My Mistress for forgiveness?

ML was impressed, she put her hand on top of the rubber head in front of her.

 “Girl, you have recognised that you were misled by a fictitious person and that it has caused you distress,you have shown yourself to be a good starter slave with promise with your words. Come, sit on the bed with me.”

Kirsty rose with difficulty -- smiling inwardly at the 'girl' comment after all Kirsty was in her mid-thirties, hardly a girl -- and moved to sit down on the bed. ML sat beside her, gently stroking her face, shoulders and breasts, causing Kirsty to experience both pleasure and pain through her hidden welts.

“In future, I shall be called Madam Pain, you are tied to me and only me, do you understand?” Kirsty nodded. “You will obey everyone as long as what you are told to do does nothing to undermine or contradict me, is that clear? In future you will be addressed by me simply as Slut unless I choose otherwise. Others will also call you slut, cunt, anything they choose as you were previously informed, however you are Madam Pain’s Slut. You may remember Janice as a stupid waste of space but that Janice was me, and that Janice wanted you so much... and now she has you.”

Kirsty nodded again. She had found Janice oddly attractive and she had aroused feelings in Kirsty, now she could realise those feelings as she was to be her slave, it was still odd though and a little awkward at first to say… “Yes, My Madam Pain, I am your slut and whore…” she continued, “…but how should I tell anyone that I cannot follow their orders because they countermand yours? I cannot argue with them, I am here to obey them.”

“Then you are on a loser and someone will be punishing you, one way or the other. It sucks to be you, eh?” She smiled.

“Anyway, enough of these machinations,” said Madam Pain, “I will order food and drink and we will eat, mistress and slave together.” Madam Pain picked up the phone and ordered before talking with her new slave about current affairs or the weather perhaps, seemingly about anything except the strange situation in which Kirsty found herself. A small table was near the window and Madam Pain and Kirsty moved to it to await the nourishment. As Kirsty sat, she was reminded of her anal intruder as it pressed into her once again; she had started to forget about it until now.

Shortly afterward, a maid knocked and entered with a tray of food and wine. After placing it on the table, glancing at the beautiful, bald woman whose face she had never seen before and at the tightly bound slave who sat with her at the table, she curtsied and left the room without a word, her expression invisible and unfathomable behind her mask and goggles.

For an hour Madam Pain and Kirsty ate and talked; Kirsty was constantly astounded by the weirdness of it all. Here she was dressed in rubber slavery, her hands bound up her back, being fed sandwiches by her Madam, talking to her Mistress, similarly dressed but without the bonds or the helmet or goggles, happily chatting like a couple of friends out for lunch. Kirsty told her what she used to do, all the stuff ‘Janice’ didn’t see and Madam listened, asking questions occasionally. She in turn spoke of how other slaves came here, without revealing any information about the location of the mansion, anyone’s name or anything at all to do with the business of slavery and video feeds. After a while Kirsty realised that she was the only one really saying revealing anything about herself. When Madam Pain talked of some of the punishments that clients required of their brought-in slaves and the Mansion had to refuse to do, Kirsty was astounded.

“One gay master,” Madam revealed, “asked that we amputate his slave’s arms and legs and fit him to a metal framework that in turn could be fitted to a remote-controlled ride-on lawnmower so that he could cut the lawn and provide a talking point for garden visitors!

Another woman referred herself as a potential slave but then proclaimed in her information letter that she wanted to be tortured to death and a video made and sent to her ex-girlfriend as revenge for dumping her. Imagine! Needless to say, we are not killers here you will be pleased to know, these things are great in fantasy but it's pretty unlikely one would find people willing to do these things, but not impossible; for all I know there is a happy gardener somewhere and a rather devastated ex-girlfriend.”

All the time, Madam used Kirsty’s real name, her actions close and friendly, Kirsty almost forgot where she was and who she was, even her feet had stopped complaining but she never called her madam by anything other than her new title.

However, dinner eventually came to an end and with that Madam Pain reappeared. Kirsty sensed the change and accepted that she was a slave once more and reverted to her role.

“My Madam Pain, I thank you for my meal and hope I have not bored you.”

“It has been very pleasant, my slut, but it is now time for you to go to bed, I have business to attend to that does not require your presence. Stand.”

Kirsty stood and nearly fell with the forgotten pain returning to her feet. Madam Pain guided Kirsty into the middle of the marble square and using a winch, lowered a cable from the ceiling. Once low enough, Madam Pain attached a hook through the chains holding Kirsty’s hands up her back then raised the winch until there was enough tension to hold Kirsty in place but without taking any strain from her feet. Madam Pain put the penis gag back into Kirsty’s mouth and strapped it so tightly that Kirsty’s cheeks bulged out above and below the leather panel, the rubber penis forced deeply into her mouth. Madam Pain removed her goggles, then applied a head harness -- a network of straps designed just to exert pressure and nothing else -- and afterwards replaced her goggles. The piss-bag was replaced by an empty one and the contents of the old one Madam Pain poured over Kirsty's rubber-covered head, making sure her catsuit and feet were not omitted, and thence onto the tiled floor, the excess urine running into the drain.

“It is nearly 10pm, slut. You will be released in the morning. Sweet dreams.”

And with that, making sure the cameras were on, Madam Pain turned out the light, left the room and closed the door behind her leaving Kirsty in almost darkness, dripping with her own urine, the only light being starlight coming in through the window. Kirsty screamed into her gag. ‘Don’t leave me here, please, not like this, not alone’, but nothing intelligible could come out. There was no answer, just the sound of her torturing heels clip-clopping on the tiles as she moved around, trying to take some weight off by lifting first one foot then the other; a method which only served to increase the pain in one foot and force her to change the weight-bearing foot. Since she was already almost on tip-toe she could do almost nothing to relieve the strain on her arms and shoulders. Saliva dribbled out from around her gag and fell onto her rubber breasts, mixing with her piss, some of which had worked its way into her mouth and around inside her helmet, mixing with the piss from the woman in the cellar. She had been debased, on top of everything else she was also a piss-slut.

Her eyes got a little more used to the dark and she could just see the illuminated driveway in the grounds through the window; could see the trees silhouetted against the grass. Perhaps there were rabbits and deer running free in the grounds, freer than her, but then what wasn’t? Once, after about an hour, she saw the full-beam headlights of a car coming up the drive, some of the light shone in through the window throwing the shadow of a tormented woman onto the bedroom wall.

The LED clock under the ever-watchful camera showed 02:00 and the door opened behind her, light from the hallway casting her shadow onto the punishment square. By the time she had shuffled around in her pain to see who it was, the door had closed and the room was in semi-darkness again; she was virtually blinded as the goggles once more emphasised the gloom. She heard a drawer open, the movement of feet on the carpet made by the vague figure and then high heels on the tiles. She tried to talk but only her customary ‘mmmmpph’ came out, her mouth letting loose even more drool. There was fumbling at her breasts and a clink of metal and then she felt someone tightening a strap around the base of her right breast causing pain and pressure, forcing the nipple into the rubber spikes again; spikes which had long since ceased to be pleasurable. Her left breast suffered the same fate. Clamps were attached lightly, so as not to stop circulation, to her rubbered nipples causing Kirsty to draw a sharp breath and release another pained vocalisation. She knew the pain would get greater as the hours went by. Shortly thereafter, there was a sudden whistling in the darkness and her ass was struck three times with a whip or cane. Kirsty screamed into her gag and started to fall, the chain pulling on her bound arms stopping her tumbling over. The figure moved off the marble tiles then across the carpeted floor, Kirsty heard the rustling of bedsheets, the plumping of a pillow and as her eyes once again became accustomed to the gloom, could now see a figure getting comfortable in the bed. Kirsty moaned and cried but nothing changed and after a few minutes she could hear the sound of relaxed breathing. Her Madam had gone to sleep leaving her slave suffering. The night was going to seem like an eternity and Kirsty cried, long and hard.

The golden glow of early morning sunlight fell across the grounds and streamed in through the window, highlighting the bound body of Kirsty. It was 6.30 and, needless to say, Kirsty had not slept at all. The room was light now and Kirsty could see Madam Pain sleeping soundly in her bed oblivious to Kirsty’s whimpers of discomfort. Turning she looked out of the window again and saw in the distance a large black car coming up the driveway. Kirsty thought it highly likely that if the occupants looked up at the house they would see her rubber form illuminated by the early-morning sunlight.

The sound of the tires on the gravel downstairs made just enough sound to disturb Madam Pain’s sleep and making sighing noises while stretching her arms above her head, she slowly came awake. She looked over at Kirsty and moved sensuously under her duvet.

“Good morning, slut, I trust you slept well? Did you like my little addition to your bondage last night? I fell asleep listening to your mewling, you moan delightfully.” Kirsty just sucked noisily on her gag. “Huh, not talking to me then?”

Madam Pain got out of bed and Kirsty looked through her misted goggles at her naked form. Through a haze of pain she could still see that her Madam was a gorgeous creature with high, firm breasts, a figure to die for and legs that went all the way up to heaven. What was left of the erotic side of Kirsty this morning still found the bald head exciting and she remembered her own shaven scalp, would it be freed of its rubber covering today? She truly hoped so.

Madam Pain walked over to Kirsty and rubbed her hands all over her body, testing the bonds and pulling on Kirsty’s breast straps, removing the clamps and pinching her nipples viciously. Kirsty shouted uselessly into the mouth-filling rubber penis; she was exhausted.

“Breakfast I think, and then we’ll begin a new day.” Madam put a sheer peignoir over her body and twice pressed a button by the bed before going into the bathroom to carry out her morning ablutions. Half an hour later there was a knock at the door and two rubber-clad maids came in, one carrying a breakfast tray, the other a jug of coffee and a newspaper which were placed on a table near the bed, over their catsuits they wore wide knee-length skirts and were adorned with white, frilly, rubber accessories on their knees and upper arms, they were not gagged. They wore white aprons and little white trimmings around their hoods -- they were quite the twisted parody of Victorian maidservants. The maids then moved away and stood either side of the tiled square upon which Kirsty was still ‘patiently’ standing and stood facing her, looking at her predicament and no doubt sympathising a little as for sure they had been, or would be, in a similar situation themselves at some point. Madam sat at the table eating her breakfast of eggs and toast and drank her coffee, reading the newspaper, not even looking at the suffering Kirsty or her new escort, until after a further half hour, Kirsty heard the words she had prayed for all the long night.

“You,” Madam pointed at one of the maids, “take it down and clean it up, it stinks. When you’ve finished, bring it back in here collared and chain it in the same place, do not dress it apart from the basics, I’ll be back shortly, and you,” she pointed at the other one, “will come with me and dress me.” And at that, Madam Pain, dressed only in a see-through piece of gossamer, breezed out of the door closely followed as best she could by a partially knee-hobbled, high-heeled, rubber-suited maid.

The remaining slave started the work of releasing Kirsty. Firstly she removed the chain holding Kirsty’s knees close together then removed the now-full piss-bag. When the winch was lowered and the support chain removed, all her weight was now on her feet and she started to fall to the ground in pain and exhaustion, the slave held her up.


“Come on,” she encouraged, “just a few more steps into the bathroom and we’ll get you free.”

Kirsty forced her feet to move through the pain and take the short journey to release. Hobbling painfully, she was led into the bathroom and after so, so long on her tortured feet, she was allowed to sit down on a stool, feeling her anal probe move around inside her. The slave then released her hands from the neck chain, allowing Kirsty free movement for the first time in many hours and her shoulders let her know they were unhappy as Kirsty winced into her gag. Next came the nipple clamps -- Kirsty yelled out when they were loosened --, the extra breast straps then the fist-forming gloves, allowing Kirsty to move her fingers with difficulty.

Kirsty realised that though she was still in rubber and high heels, she was free to move and could escape now but she had no will or the strength to do so, she was just glad to be able to move again. The undressing continued. The gag came out, along with much drool, the goggles were removed and Kirsty could now see and breathe properly again. The slave removed the padlock holding Kirsty’s crotch zips together and slowly pulled out the catheter, an unpleasant feeling indeed and something she hoped wasn’t going to be too regular an occurrence. Next came attention to her head coverings. The slave removed the awful head harness that had pressured Kirsty’s skull all night, undid the tall collar, unlocked the helmet padlock, unzipped the back and finally peeled the rubber from Kirsty’s sweaty, smelly, piss-stained face; relief washed over her and she couldn’t wait to get everything else off now.

“The shoes now, My Lady, I beg you?” beseeched Kirsty, hoarsely. No one had told her she couldn’t talk but it had taken a while for her stiff jaw to allow her to form words and her throat was dry from the constant intrusion of the gag.

“The shoes are indeed next, you have done well for this your first time, your feet get used to it but there is always pain. Hopefully you will be allowed to remove them some nights but I suppose it won’t be often as you are our new Madam’s slut and she may be rather hard on you to set an example.” said the slave through rubber lips. Kirsty felt dread come over her as she realised she would have to wear these awful things again, or something like them. The maid unlaced the shoes and removed them allowing Kirsty to move her feet around and place her toes back on the floor.

“OK, now the corset and suit and we’ll see what you look like, and, er , what you smell like. Stand up and by the way, it’s going to hurt.” As she stood up, her calves pulled and started to cramp as the muscles were forced to stretch to allow Kirsty to put her feet flat on the floor and she nearly fell down again. The slave held her for a moment until she was steady, then unlaced and removed the corset before undoing the catsuit’s back zip. Kirsty could see herself in the mirrors, she thought she looked rather like a snake shedding its skin as the slave peeled the suit down her body, her breasts popping clear of the encompassing cups. Kirsty clutched at her slightly purple tits and rubbed them with her rubber hands to try to offset some of the pain the blood was causing her. She saw the lurid marks in her flesh.

The suit with its gloves and feet was finally down to her feet and as she carefully stepped out of the now formless rubber, Kirsty could see the extent to which she had been damaged by the whips; the mirror showed her a body she had never seen before. Lines had been pressed into flesh where the rubber had been so tight and an outline of the head-harness was still visible. Her reasonably fit body was now a map of whip marks from her chest to her knees, she could see her back in the mirrors and the only place she was unmarked was where the corset had protected her, its effects of waist narrowing still apparent in the compression marks. Her breasts had livid marks on them top and bottom.

“One last thing before you shower, bend over.” The slave slowly pulled the electric torturer from her ass and Kirsty had the urge to go to the toilet and informed the slave thus. The slave pointed her finger at the toilet bowl and stood still back. It was apparent she wasn’t going to leave and Kirsty sat down in humiliation and tried not to think that she was being watched while doing such a personal thing.

“Don’t worry, I have yet to give you an enema, then we’ll see about letting you get clean.”

Kirsty did her thing while the slave filled a bladder with soapy water and hung it from a frame. When Kirsty had finished, the slave had her bend over and inserted a tube into her ass, letting the warm water fill her up, a process that at first was quite odd, then pleasant, then rather uncomfortable, as her bowels got a little over-full.

“Back on the toilet and let it go,” said the slave. Kirsty was mortified by the noise and mess of letting the water go while in the presence of another person but more was to come. “Two more times, you must be fully cleansed.”

The third enema she was told to hold in and only let out once she was in the shower but that was not until her head, eyebrows and vagina had been shaved again, a process that was to be repeated usually every five or six days, when possible.

The shower was hot and made the welts on Kirsty’s body momentarily feel like they had just been inflicted anew, but the pain shortly wore off and she relaxed a little as she washed the piss off her head and body and allowed her enema to run down her legs before they too got a good scrubbing. She started to feel human again.

After ten minutes of showering the water was turned off and Kirsty was told to get out and get dried. She rubbed her towel over herself, gingerly dabbing at the worst whip marks to avoid too much pain, her head she dried whilst looking in the mirror and saw her androgynous face staring back at her; a face she found attractive and almost as if it were someone else’s.

The slave dried her back for her and used a hair dryer to remove all moisture, especially her feet and neck. The slave put a snug, tall, leather collar around her slender neck, buckling it tightly so her head movement was slightly restricted. She applied two padlocks to the straps and bade her sit down on the stool.

“OK,” said the slave, “time to put the shoes back on, footwear is always mandatory.” Kirsty could have fainted, not so soon, not back into those horrors.

“Please, My Lady, not the shoes again, my feet are in agony, I thought I might get some time without anything on them. I can’t face them again. Please don’t make me My Lady, please.”

The girl picked up a shoe and held it towards Kirsty’s foot. Kirsty shook her head. “Please, no, My Lady.”

“Either I put them on here and now or others come and put them on for me. I shall get whipped and you will get ballet boots instead and if you think these shoes are bad, just wait until you have to wear them! There are two types they use here, the nicer type have a small platform in the toe area and since you are effectively on tiptoe inside the boot they are the lesser of two evils as the other ones do not have a platform, this means your toes get pushed into the point of the boot and are crushed together; a couple of hours in those and you will know pain, wear them all day and, well, you can imagine. You will have them eventually anyway on occasions but at least this way you’ll get used to higher heels at an easier pace. You get used to them, look at mine.” She stood and moved smoothly in her high heels around the bathroom. “They hardly hurt at all now and I can barely walk without them on, so used to them have I become. They are only five inches, it’s nothing.”

She proffered the shoe again -- lightly dusting the opening with talc as they were a little damp where urine had got in -- and Kirsty reluctantly slipped her foot in, feeling the familiar pain as the laces were tightened and her foot was bent downward. When both shoes had been fitted and tightly laced, the slave put shoe locks on and applied small padlocks so that even if Kirsty continued to have the use of her hands she couldn’t get them off.

“And that’s it, you’re done.” She put a finger through a ring in Kirsty’s collar and gently pulled her to her feet, pain lancing through her tendons and toes, leading her back into Madam Pain’s large bedroom and onto the tiled square. Here she lowered the chain from the ceiling and attached it to the collar ring leaving enough slack so that she could walk around her small arena but not quite enough to let her get to the carpet; at least she could sit or lie down on the cool tiles. The slave went back into the bathroom and came back shortly with a bucket of soapy water and a sponge.

“You don’t get to sit around yet slut, clean your area, it stinks of your piss.”

“Yes, My Lady.” Kirsty started to clean the area. “My Mistress, may I ask a question? I have no hood on and the camera’s are watching me, are they broadcasting my face to the subscribers? I was told we were all anonymous.”

“The private rooms are not routinely transmitted although they can be should the powers-that-be require it. You are not being identified by anyone, merely observed by the staff. I know who you are but if I told anyone of your presence here bad things would happen to me.” And then quietly, almost to herself, “really bad things.” Then louder, to Kirsty, “Although hoods and helmets are commonly used to hide identity, they are not the only things to disguise your face as I’m sure you’ll find out.”

It didn’t take Kirsty long to clean her 'home' but now it was wet and cold and Kirsty could either stand up on her pained feet or sit down on the damp tiles, she chose the latter.

The slave went to the tray Madam had left on the table and brought it over to Kirsty, putting it down in her open prison. On it were a couple of pieces of toast, a little cereal Madam Pain hadn’t eaten, a croissant and a glass of orange juice.

“Here is breakfast, enjoy it and if I were you I’d get some sleep, you look rather tired, didn’t you sleep well?” The maid/slave laughed and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.


Kirsty ate everything up, including the leftover cereal. For half an hour she sat there, the floor slowly drying out in the sunshine, and tried to massage her feet by squeezing the leather upper, but it didn’t help much. The collar was tight and prevented her from looking down for too long lest she asphyxiate. The chain was not heavy but it was strong and without tools she could not hope to get it, nor the padlocks on her collar and shoes, off.

She looked out of the big window at the grounds and watched the occasional comings and goings of people in cars; in the distance, she could see a couple of horse riders touring the farmland; they were too far away for them to see the naked and bound exhibit in the second floor room.

Eventually, Kirsty fell asleep in the warm sunshine. The slave was right, she was exhausted having had no sleep last night and very poor sleep the night before. She woke once, the camera clock said midday and she was still alone although someone had been in and moved the tray replacing it with a sandwich and a glass of water. Kirsty ate and drank and urinated into the drain, feeling truly humiliated even though there was no one to see; not actually in the room anyway. The day wore on and Kirsty slept again. She heard no one, heard almost nothing, a few doors closing somewhere, a plane flew overhead at some height and the gravel made a noise as a couple of cars came and went. Were her days to be spent like this, chained to a square of marble with nothing to do, no one to see or talk to? She hoped not, but then at least she wasn’t in much pain and while the tiles were hard they were warm in the sunshine; a bit too warm as the sun had risen higher, got hotter and still blazed through the window into Kirsty’s restricted area.

Another two hours passed and Kirsty had dozed on and off, waking a little refreshed but not much. She heard the door open and turned to see Madam Pain enter the room dressed in high heels, pantyhose, a tight leather miniskirt, an overbust corset combined with a short jacket, all in black except the purple of the corset. She wore leather gloves and a diamond necklace and earrings and to Kirsty looked very elegant and quite the vision of loveliness and sexiness. Kirsty stood, wincing slightly as her feet again took her weight, and curtsied.

“My Madam Pain.” she said, not knowing quite what else to do.

“I have a meeting soon, slut, we shall get you ready as you are to be a feature this evening. Piss now, if you need to.”

Kirsty didn’t but thought she’d better try, squatting down over the drain. She felt better knowing her owner was here and not another slave and the humiliation was a little less even though Madam Pain watched her keenly whilst putting a pair of rubber gloves over her leather ones. Kirsty finished and stood up.

“Today, you will start your ass-training proper, although I think the training period will be very, very much shorter than you'd like, probably a few hours, but at least you'll be 'warmed up'. Let’s put this harness on.”

Madam Pain started by buckling a wide black-leather strap around Kirsty’s waist, pulling it very tight and padlocking the buckle. Next, she drew two straps that were attached to the belt either side of her belly, down between Kirsty’s legs, pulled them up the back and buckled them very tightly to the waist belt at the rear at points off-centre each side, securing them with tiny padlocks; he design was such that her ass cheeks were pulled widely apart and also pressed into the flesh on either side of her pussy, forcing her labia forward and making them more pronounced; Kirsty felt she was being cut in half lengthways. Four ‘D’ rings were attached to the straps at points around her anus to which Madam Pain joined four very short and dainty chains. She went to a drawer and pulled out a rubber penis dildo , a jar of lubricant and what looked like a small lithium battery. She removed a discrete cover in the base of the dildo and inserted the battery in its receptacle. The penis was black, an inch wide and about ten inches long, running up opposite sides were two shiny steel strips. Kirsty looked on in fear as Madam also brought over a stool and had Kirsty lie across it. Madam fiddled about and Kirsty felt a pressure and a cold fluid on her anus.

“The more you relax the easier it will be, you remember Holly Johnson’s song?”

Madam Pain pushed and wiggled the head of the penis as Kirsty did her best to relax her sphincter, then suddenly the penis slid in. Kirsty gasped in pain and surprise as Madam moved the penis in and out to fully lubricate her insides, she then pushed it fully in and attached the chains to tiny rings at its base. Kirsty felt she was being fucked by a tree, so big [to her] was the dildo. There was no narrow bit at the end so her sphincter could no longer close and she felt very exposed and stretched.

“Stand up.”

Kirsty stood with difficulty and felt the dildo start to fall only to stop against the restraining chains with two inches showing. Madam pushed the phallus in and Kirsty then felt it drop out again to its chain limit. Madam then pulled it against the chains and managed to get it out another two inches. Assured then that the dildo was correctly restrained and could not fall out, she told Kirsty to sit down on the stool. As she did so very carefully, the rubber penis was pushed into her and she was filled. She realised that every time she sat down she would fuck her own ass and it had the freedom to move as she was walking too. She was becoming aroused despite everything.

“Now time to get dressed.”

Madam got her dressed in a very short and loose red-rubber ‘A’ line micro skirt, fitted low on her hips but still so short that the dildo was quite visible beneath the hem and showed the leather waist belt above too; if the skirt was even seven inches long it would be surprising. Madam Pain released her from the collar and chain and started putting her in another rubber hood with tailored holes for her eyes and mouth and small tubes that fit into the nostrils. She connected the two sides of the zip at the back of neck and zipped it from the neck up, attaching a small padlock to the ring at the top of Kirsty's head then proceeded to use the large 'D' rings spaced equally from crown to neck to lace it tightly at the back until it fitted smoothly across her face. Madam applied the darkened goggles strapping them in place behind her head, Kirsty's eyes once more disappearing from view and her world darkened. She wore no gag for the moment. The wide collar was refitted tightly round her neck and a padlock secured it in place. Madam took off her rubber gloves.

“There, a picture of strange beauty, have a look at yourself. Kirsty looked in the full-length mirror. There she stood: high, painful shoes, bare legs and a ridiculously short skirt. Naked breasts and the dull collar showing her slavehood, her black rubber face looked back at her through her lenses and she could see the word ‘SLUT’ had been printed in white across her forehead. Madam altered the angle of the mirror and when Kirsty looked down she could clearly see the anal penis sticking out from under her skirt suspended by it’s chains.

“You look like a slut and your hood tells everyone you are.” said Madam Pain, proceeding to fuck her ass with the dildo. Kirsty moved her buttocks away at first then found herself pushing back when Madam pushed it in, realising that she was enjoying the size and the feeling of the artificial veins stimulating her sphincter. She started to gasp in pleasure until Madam stopped and fitted her with tight, rubber gloves that were strapped at her wrists.

“Come slut, we have visitors to see.” Madam Pain laughed, “ha, come slut, perhaps I mean cum-slut, we shall see.”

‘Visitors!’ thought Kirsty, she was to be displayed like a whore to other people!

“You can make your own way. Be in the drawing room by the entrance hall in ten minutes, don’t be late; tonight you will have a lesson in humiliation and pain and we shall start your modifications.” She left the apartment.

Kirsty already felt humiliated, she was hardly dressed at all. The short skirt showed her dildo and her cunt and made her look like some sort of grotesque Japanese schoolgirl parody, with bare legs and her bare upper body dressed only in whip marks. Only her hood gave her a sense of security, something she could hide behind and despite its discomfort and the awkwardness of the goggles, she welcomed the wearing of it. She could play the part she felt she needed in her life and felt a wave of subservience and masochism pass through her. She sat on the stool again briefly and moved the rod in and out a few times by raising her body, moaning in masochistic pleasure and rubbing at her pussy, strangely a part of her body that seemed to have been mostly ignored during her visit so far. She remembered the mention of the pain and the humiliation, and what was this talk of modification? Reluctantly she stood and left the room closing the door behind her, surprised that she was largely unfettered and free to roam more than at any other time since she arrived. She had wanted to leave earlier and yet here she was, heading voluntarily towards who-knows-what.

From her view of the driveway in Madam Pain’s room she had seen that she was not far from being directly over the entrance hall two floors down so she made her way along a corridor which would hopefully lead her to some stairs. She was not too clear about which way to go as she had not explored this area of the mansion. As she was looking for the rear stairs, Madam Omega came out of a room and came towards her, Kirsty curtsied and stood to one side.

“And you are going where, slut?” asked the Madam, glancing at the helmet writing, "as if I didn't know."

 She was dressed for a night out in a long, cleavage-revealing, emerald-green evening dress, pearls, earrings and high, open-toes shoes. Matching gloves covered her arms to above her elbows and she carried a cream-coloured clutch bag. The dress clung to every curve of her voluptuous body down to her hips where the skirt flowed loosely down to her matching high-heeled shoes. Her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders and her face had the mark of someone who knew how to use less make-up to mean more. She looked like she was going to an evening out at the theatre rather than, Kirsty assumed, a meeting of a bunch of deviants.

“Madam Pain has requested I attend the drawing room, Madam Omega.” replied Kirsty.

“Oh, Madam Pain has requested that she has, well you’d better not be late.” Kirsty sensed a little animosity in Madam Omega’s voice. “So you had better be quick with this then, get down on your knees.”

Kirsty did as instructed and Madam Omega raised her dress and dropped it over Kirsty’s head; as the dress fell over her back, Kirsty could feel that the dress was lined with rubber! Kirsty could also tell that Madam was wearing rubber leggings with a suitable hole at the crotch which Kirsty found as she approached with her mouth.

She was under no illusion as to what she was to do and moving her hands to Madam Omega's buttocks, pushed her face into the moist sex and started to lick her tormentor.

She was surprised to feel that her tongue, whilst touching tender woman-flesh, also touched metal. She could feel that Madam Omega had four small piercings in her cunt lips, two to a side, and to these piercings wires had been attached. Kirsty used her mouth and tongue to move all over Madam Omega’s sex, finding that the wires were fastened tautly to straps around the thighs thereby pulling Madam Omega’s cunt wide open as the woman stood with her legs apart.

Kirsty realised that every step that Madam Omega took would force her labia to be stretched and relaxed in their turn. Kirsty realised that the arrangement caused Madam Omega’s whole vaginal area to be stretched and stimulated with every step she took. She pushed and moved her tongue in the dark dampness and then on to Madam Omega’s clitoris which she found had also been pierced, a small ring dangling from the nub. It was humid and hot under the skirt but the rubber lining prevented any sweat or juices staining the green dress.

Hands pressed on the back of Kirsty’s head. “Get on with it now you’ve found this particular secret; this mansion is full of little secrets and if you are unlucky you will find more of them out.”

Kirsty licked and sucked and within a few minutes had Madam Omega gasping and moaning, close to orgasm, only to have the dress lifted from over her head allowing her a breath of cool air after the sex-filled atmosphere under the rubber.

“That’s enough for now, I cannot come tonight as I have slaves to torture tomorrow and I do my best work while aroused and frustrated.”

Without any warning Madam Omega drew back her hand and slapped Kirsty hard, very hard, across the face, knocking her to the ground. Kirsty yelped at the surprise and pain both from the slap and the fact that her anal dildo had caught on her heel and been pushed deep into her ass. She was trying to sit up when the familiar pain suddenly started inside her anal canal. Kirsty squealed. The current stayed on for only a couple of seconds but it was enough to cause Kirsty to realise all the dildos she was to wear were like this. Who else had remote-controls for them? Everybody seemed to be able to shock her ass at will and she was becoming frightened of doing anything wrong, anything that would cause her pain in her anus. She was baffled though, about what she had done wrong this time except perhaps being in the right place but at the wrong time.

“Do you have anything to say, slut?”

“Th..thank you Madam Omega, I will try to do better next time.” cried Kirsty, getting back to her position on her knees.

“I’m so sure you will, not that it will necessarily help as you did very well this time and I still punished you, did I not? And why did I? Because I could, slut, because you are nothing, NOTHING, do you hear?!”

“Yes, Madam Omega, I am nothing, I am just a slut.!” Kirsty looked at the ground, hoping she was doing the right thing, saying it the right way; Madam Omega was not a person to be trifled with, she had issues.

“Madam Pain will wonder why you are late, you will tell her nothing of this, is that clear?”

Kirsty nodded, keeping her face towards the ground. But she had to tell Madam Pain if she asked her why she was late, Madam Pain had said she was hers, perhaps she would protect her, Kirsty hoped so.

Kirsty replied, “Yes, Madam Omega.” She had fallen into the middle of some sort of row between the Madams and whatever was to come, it would probably not go well for her.

Without another word, Madam Omega walked off and for a moment Kirsty imagined those cunt lips stretching as she moved and rather missed not being back under that rubber dress, such was the exotic scent there. Perhaps she may not mention this particular reason for being late?

Kirsty got to her feet, putting her feet back into pain. She hurried off, finding the stairs and walking as fast as she could towards the drawing room, the dildo tormenting her ass, whilst wiping her rubber mouth clean of Madam Omega’s copious juices with the back of her hand.


Kirsty made her way to the entrance hall, off which was the drawing room, and as she entered from the rear of the house she saw several people already gathered there admiring a pair of rubber-enclosed, writhing and moaning, wall decorations. There were five women and four men dressed elegantly for an evening out although the material of choice was not always expensive cloth and at least three of the women and and two of the men were dressed in tight-fitting leather or rubber. One of the women was wearing a long black dress of finest silk that was tightly cinched at the waist but left her breasts exposed and supported by a quarter-cup corset. Her nipples had been pierced and diamond drop-earrings that matched the ones in her earlobes dangled from silver rings. By her side, kneeling on the floor and held close by a chain was a slave, a truly abject slave. It was wearing a head-harness that held both a large penis gag in her mouth and a set of blindfolds over her eyes. Part of the gag stuck out and her lips could be seen stretched around the rubber. Straps held the whole arrangement tightly to her shaven head and a high leather collar looked uncomfortably tight around her neck. Her nose had a large ring through the septum, resting on the top of the gag. Her body was a mass of bruises and welts and she was obviously always treated very badly as some of the marks looked quite old -- and some of them very fresh. Kirsty could see her cunt had been pierced several times and padlocks held her cunt lips closed. Her hands had been chained at her sides to a metal belt that encircled her waist. As the slave heard noises she moved her blind head left and right, occasionally flinching as if anticipating a blow that had yet to fall.

All the guests wore either hoods or exotic masks and their identities were hidden.

Before Kirsty could take in any more of the scene she jumped as a voice whispered in her ear, Madam Pain had arrived.

“You are seven minutes late, this evening will be worse for you than ever. Get in the drawing room, kneel on the floor in the middle of the room facing the door with your legs spread wide apart. Obey anyone instantly, do not speak to anyone without my permission.”

“Yes, My Madam Pain.” Kirsty whispered back, not quite knowing why, and moved quickly as directed.

The room was carpeted and thick curtains hung from the walls making the atmosphere quiet as the fabric absorbed the sounds. Kirsty quickly assumed her position, spreading her legs wide apart, knowing that her sex was fully displayed beneath the ridiculously short rubber skirt. She sat back on her dildo and felt the floor push it deep into her. Kirsty put her hands behind her back so that she was fully displayed to the guests as they came in, the posture pushing her ample breasts forward and lifting them a little. Kirsty watched people enter and saw them looking at her, some with interest, some lasciviously -- both men and women.

A pair of maids followed them in and circulated with drinks and canapés while the guests made themselves comfortable. Each maid's uniform was a classic French-maid-type but made of fine rubber. The dresses were ultra short, although not as short as Kirsty's useless skirt, and had a mass of white petticoats showing under the ebony material. Purple leather waspie corsets adorned their waists and the tight rubber of the dresses emphasised the maids breasts, allowing the outline of nipples and nipple rings to be easily seen. The sleeves were short and off-the-shoulder making a level line from one arm to the other across the chest and back.

Each maid wore an elegant rubber collar. Hoods covered their heads and only their eyes with subtle makeup could be seen. Their nostrils housed rubber tubes and their mouths were covered by a panel, their cheeks slightly distorted showing the presence of a large gag hidden beneath. The rear of the hood had a pony tail coming through a two inch tube in the back of the helmet and falling halfway to the waist, although whether that was the maids' own hair or fake was unknown. Knowing this place, Kirsty thought it might be their own hair that had been cut off then spitefully used to give the appearance that it was still attached. They were wearing high heeled shoes and ordinary black stockings with suspenders that disappeared under the petticoats, an ominous pair of black inflator bulbs hung from tubes and bounced against each girl's thighs as they moved around the room. Cuffs above their knees were fastened together with a short, padlocked chain that served no real purpose other than to be aesthetically pleasing as the high heels on their own prevented them from taking long steps; the chains just jingled melodiously -- as did the ones between their gloved wrists.

No one took much notice of them as they went about their business, although one of the men, who had sat in an armchair, made a move towards one of the maid's inflator bulbs only to stop when his partner, a tall woman wearing a long, maroon, figure-hugging rubber dress with tight bodice and balloon sleeves, gave him a withering look and mouthed something at the man; he withdrew his hand, presumably as he was reminded he was about to cross some sort of line. The woman then reached out to the maid's breast and ran a manicured fingernail across the outline of her nipple, presumably to show the man that she could touch and he could not and that this was a woman's household. The maid drew a sharp breath through her nostril tubes and a slight moan was heard, she curtsied to the woman and moved on through the room.

Kirsty heard the huge door-knocker a few times and more guests entered, again some in fairly normal evening dress and others with fetish outfits of corsets, high-heels, rubber suits, piercings, leather collars and just about anything normally seen at a fetish ball in Munich. A few brought slaves but most of them were vanilla types with the usual fetish gimp suits and loose handcuffs, slaves that were in name only and were probably in truth just partners of the masters and mistresses; the only true slave appeared to be the one Kirsty had first seen in the lobby – and of course, herself. She heard titbits of conversation that mostly seemed to be of a business nature. Madam Pain moved around the room ignoring Kirsty, chatting happily with this guest or that, as if this were an ordinary dinner party. Occasionally she would glance at the clock and then carry on.

After about half an hour one of the men bent down to speak into the ear of the seated woman with the abject slave. She leaned back and looked into his face, saying, “But of course, Mr J, feel free.”

Mr J. grabbed part of the slave's head harness, pushing her face into the carpet and the room went quiet; it seemed the evening's entertainment was about to start. He stood behind the slave and unzipped the fly of his rubber trousers, letting a very presentable and erect manhood free. Dropping to his knees and without any further ceremony, he pushed his penis into the slaves backside, plunging back and forth as the slave grunted and moaned through her gag into the floor-covering. No more than a minute later the man grunted a couple of times, spending himself in the slaves ass. After a moment he pulled out and stood. Then, to Kristy's surprise, alarm and a certain amount of arousal, he walked over to her, putting his cock — still with cum, and the slave's anal juices on it — right in front of Kirsty’s mouth.

“Clean.” he ordered. Kirsty did not hesitate, with all those people around and Madam Pain watching intently she was in no position to refuse and, lifting herself up, took the man’s penis in her mouth, as far as she could. She took her mouth off and licked around the head, shaft and around his exposed balls until all that was on his privates was Kirsty’s saliva. The man replaced his genitals into his rubber trousers then pointing at the slave said again to her, “Clean.”

Kirsty knew what she was being told to do and a wave of masochism and arousal swept over her and she moved on her hands and knees to the girl, who had not moved from her position with her ass in the air and her face pressed to the carpet. She proceeded to lick the girl's ass which had started to leak the man’s cum. The slave moaned and in an instant the woman -- the slaves owner presumably -- took a leather tawse from the table and slapped it across the girls back leaving a red mark – the slave was quiet but obviously still in a state of arousal as Kirsty could smell the sex as she cleaned the girl out, pushing her tongue inside her anus greedily.

“Enough Slut,” said the woman, “it is not allowed pleasure, desist.”

Kirsty stopped and returned to her position, her hood wet around the mouth, aware of the moisture between her legs and of a pleasure which was starting to build as she rested back on to her dildo, feeling the enormous length pressing inside her abdomen. Her lips had filled out and her breath was getting shallower and she took many small breaths. She couldn’t help herself and started to move her body up and down feeling the anal probe move as if of its own volition. She felt an overwhelming pressure building in her loins, a terrible desire to fuck her own ass in front of all these people. She felt it building, building, she was on the edge then…PAIN! The dildo released it’s terrible power and Kirsty screamed as the electricity coursed through her bowels but it was too late, her orgasm could not be stopped and while her ass was seemingly fried with bolts of electricity, she passed into a pleasure she would never have thought possible and in her pain she bounced up and down on her anal phallus, fucking herself until she was spent. The electricity stopped and Kirsty fell forward onto her elbows crying and gasping while all around the guests applauded. Kirsty felt the humiliation and revelled in it.

Madam Pain stood and announced that the evening had started well and that shortly they would move to the next phase of the event; Kirsty had recovered herself to her kneeling position. As the guests resumed their conversations Madam Pain spoke to the two maids after waving them to her.

“Take her through and secure her to the chair, Matron will be along shortly, then continue to bring drinks. I want this evening to go well and so far I am very pleased.” She looked down at Kirsty and added, “Well, Slut, that was quite a performance, let’s hope you can maintain it as the evening progresses." Turning to a maid she said, "give her a lot of water but no food, I don’t want her to be sick, this evening she will know pain and more humiliation.”

Madam Pain turned on her high heel and returned to her guests.

“What’s going to happen My Lady?” Kirsty asked of a slave. The slave could not reply but merely passed a small bottle of water and indicated she should drink. Kirsty took a couple of sips. The maid slave indicated that she should drink it all and when she'd finished, the maid gave her another bottle, then another. Kirsty drank them all.

Kirsty took a few minutes to down just over a litre of water and then as the maids got her to her feet, one of them took the opportunity to push her dildo in and out a few times, eliciting moans from Kirsty, moans from both the pleasure and the increasing discomfort. She had been wearing the probe for some time now and she was feeling more stretched and invaded as time went by, up until she arrived here she had only used her ass for one thing and it was starting to complain about other uses. Her feet too had relaxed with her time on the floor but returned to pain as they took her weight once again.

It was time to go and the slaves indicated that Kirsty should exit through the far door.

In this second room, seats had been arranged and there were sofas and tables with lit candles on them. In the subdued lighting, all of them more or less faced a low stage on which there was a chair, if chair it could be called.

The chair had four legs spaced such that the rear were about eighteen inches from each other and the front legs were much wider apart. The seat was made such that the users legs would follow the line of the wood and be angled far apart making for quite a stretch, exposing the victim's genitals clearly to the world. Straps were attached at several places so that the user would be well secured . The actual seat was narrow and in two pieces so that the seated unfortunate would have their genitals off the front of the wood. There would be a gap in the seat under both nether regions with the two pieces held firmly in place by steel bars. When in use the whole of the user's lower body would be accessible without being hindered by the chair itself. The chair was held to a turntable by a complex system of hinges such that it could be swung or turned in any direction. Kirsty’s biggest concern was that she could see the whole of the chair was covered in short, thick, wooden spikes, on the seat, the arms, and the back — the head section was smooth and padded with shaped foam.


The maids removed her pointless skirt and sat her down on the spikes, she felt them press into her skin but as they were close together it was not as painful as she had first thought it would be. Her anal dildo and chains hung free into the gap in the seat and she was strapped in.

Firstly a wide leather strap was placed around her waist and buckled behind the seat pulling her hard into the rear spikes, Kirsty moved around as much as she could so that the spikes were only pressing directly into her buttocks and not actually pulling her skin. She grimaced at the discomfort of the chair but this was only the beginning. The slaves systematically buckled the leather straps around her body, pushing more of the spikes into her skin, leaving indentations that became more and more uncomfortable as time passed. Before continuing, her goggles were removed and Kirsty could now see the opulence of the room. A wide strap went around her forehead and the metal collar was chained to the neck section, holding her rigidly staring forward. Around her upper arms then below her elbows holding her forearms to the arm ‘rests’. More around her wrists and then each finger and thumb was individually restrained with two straps to each digit. More restraint was applied above and below her breasts, squeezing them and pushing them out. Her legs were pulled wide apart to match the chair's 'seat', exposing her sex to an audience with straps at her thighs, and above her knees. Oddly, her lower legs were not secured to the legs and she could raise or lower them at will, she presumed this was not an oversight, her feet did not touch the floor.

The slaves' work was done for the moment and they stepped away and stood at attention on either side of the chair and slightly to the rear, leaving Kirsty exposed, lonely and feeling very, very vulnerable. After her actions in the other room it was too late for her to wonder if she could continue with this (if she could even get free). She had shown herself to be a veritable slut of sluts, abasing herself by licking clean a used cock and a slaves abused nether regions before fucking herself in the ass in front of all those people and taking an enormous pleasure in the process. 'Kirsty Rackham, Slut to the Gentry', quite the business slogan perhaps.

A small gong rang out and Kirsty could hear movement and subdued voices as Madam Pain asked everyone to move through and be seated. She watched them enter through aroused, but fearful, eyes as they shuffled in and sorted themselves with regard to seating. Kirsty could see already that there was activity between some of the audience with raised skirts, damp panties and exposed breasts; she could see at least one woman had her hand on a man's exposed penis. It took a little time for everyone to get comfortable and there was much interest in the object immobilised on the stage. The woman with the exposed breasts pulled her blindfold slave and using a chain around her neck attached her to a post that had been provided. The slave knelt with her hands still affixed to her belt, trying to stop the drool falling onto her breasts and running down her abused body.

Madam Pain walked to the front of the low stage and held up her hands, waiting for the conversation to die away.

“Let me officially welcome you all to this evening’s entertainment. You, get the lights.” One of the maids walked on her high heels to the back of the stage, flicked a switch and Kirsty’s body, already clearly on view to the audience, was bathed in bright lights from which she could feel the heat; she could almost feel everyone’s eyes upon her although now the light made it more difficult for her to see them.

“Next to your seats there is a small ornate box in which you will find some items. Please open your boxes and take out the red and green cards. As you know some of our activities here are conducted on a democratic basis — and some are not.” Madam Pain smiled, maliciously. A small ripple of laughter ran around the assembled spectators. “And we would like you to take an active part, should you so wish, in this evening's activities. The red and green cards are voting cards and are the way we shall proceed for now. If I think I see anyone whose choices are not the majority’s for any length of time I may invite them to give an individual request, we have no wish to exclude anyone if their tastes are different. Now the first vote is this…we like to have our slaves wear darkened goggles as it restricts their view and helps them know their place and we find them visually stimulating, however this is a special time and you may wish to see the Slut’s eyes. Hold up your green card if you wish to see its eyes, the red if you wish to apply the goggles.” A sea of green cards were held up.
“So be it.”

Kirsty was going to be able to see the proceedings clearly, she was not sure she wanted to.

She could see her tormentors through the glare and could see that there was already a fair bit of petting going on; the room had started to smell of sweat, rubber and sex. The points on the wooden spikes were starting to do their work as they settled deeper into her skin and she was starting to feel pain rather than discomfort. She tried to squirm to change the position but was too well secured and it only made it worse anyway. Her skin had acquired a sheen of sweat because of the pain and the heat from the lights. This had only just started and she was becoming afraid of what these people were going to do to her.

Madam Pain stood to the side of the stage and spoke to her directly.

“So Slut, I must inform you of your rights before we continue. The first thing, in fact the only thing, is you have no rights. You signed your paper and you are here of your own free will. This is true, say so before these good people.”

“I…I am here of my own free will.” replied Kirsty, and in truth, she was, SHE had not been forced here although she did wonder about the blind-folded slave's motives.

“I will tell you now, just before we continue, that there is no safe word, there is no escape, no rest unless I permit it. You are permitted to scream, to beg for mercy. You may threaten, cajole or beg us to stop whatever we choose to do to you or whatever we make you do, but it will all be to no avail. Unless you request it, almost nothing will be done to you that probably cannot be reversed or that will not heal in the fullness of time. At the end of your time with us you will be able to return to your former life in such a manner that no-one need know you were ever here. Only a few marks will be permanent, most, but not all, changes to your body will be reversible or coverable until they heal, your future life will not be physically altered unless you request it. These guests are here to assist me, you will now ask for your pain and punishment to begin, do so now.”

Kirsty actually had to ask for people to hurt her! She wasn’t a masochist, she got no pleasure from pain, it just hurt, plain and simple. But then was it just pain? She had been wearing painful shoes for hours and hours, she had been whipped and the marks still stung, she had been pissed on, she had been bound since she got here. Her skin had been covered with a rubber skin, her eyebrows and hair gone. Strangers had felt her body and she had licked cum from another woman’s ass and despite all that, she had orgasmed in front of an audience. Tonight she was the centre of attention, people had come to see her perform and she wanted to perform. She wanted these people to humiliate her, she wanted to feel the power of that orgasm again. Indeed, pain was just pain but despite that, she wanted to feel it.

“Please, My Madam Pain, please, My Audience, I request that you put me in pain and punish me, please do so now.” Kirsty closed her eyes and listened to another round of applause while she felt the wooden spikes.

The applause died away and Madam Pain continued.

“You have heard our Slut request her punishment and that will start presently. Punishment is not just about physical pain though. Since she arrived here, the Slut has been wearing high shoes which have been new to her and quite uncomfortable, she has been told of other footwear that is worse and tonight she will start to wear some of this type of footwear, physically it is painful but mentally it is demeaning and the pain constantly reminds her of her position. She should be aware that what we are about to apply are not punishment boots -- but will definitely seem like it -- however they are very educational in their severity. After this footwear is applied it will be removed for medical reasons and for cleanliness or at other times for the fitting of rubber-wear that requires the feet involved, after which this footwear or something similar, will be replaced on her feet. In essence, for the entirety of her stay with us she will wear uncomfortable shoes or boots almost day and night, a difficult thing indeed to bear. These particular boots have a very slightly wider toe section which will prevent permanent damage to the toes and will thus allow more savage items to be worn as punishment in the future, nevertheless, these extremely high heels are our second most painful footwear. The slut can look forward to quite a few days of pain while she learns to walk in these most beautiful boots.”

The second maid brought forward a pair of leather ballet boots which Madam Pain took and showed to Kirsty. Kirsty gasped in horror. Her own shoes were uncomfortable enough but these were a magnitude worse. She could see the heels were very tall, the curve of the instep was at an angle such that she would have to walk practically on tip toe, her toes being forced towards the very ends of the narrow shoes. The tops of the boots would come a quarter of the way up her calves and would padlock on, she would be trapped in them. Only having the laces agonisingly tight would support her and stop her toes being crushed into the end of the foot. Day and night for months, she would be crippled! Kirsty tried to shake her head but there was no movement.

“Please, I can’t take that, I can’t wear them. Please let me go, let me out of here, please.” Kirsty was starting to panic, thinking about the boots.

Madam Pain signalled one of the slaves who obediently pushed a foam ball into Kirsty’s mouth turning her complaints into a muffled mewling.

“Ladies and gentlemen, a second vote. Would you like the Slut gagged now or would you prefer to listen to her complaints as we apply her footwear. Green for gagged, red for not.” It was a close vote but the reds won it. A voice called out, “How about a compromise? A ring gag would do the trick.” Another shouted, “Let her head go so she can see the boots go on.”

“Excellent suggestions, remove the head strap and the neck chains, apply a spider gag and for now we will hear her moans but not her words.”

Kirsty’s head was released and she shook it to try to stop the spider gag going in but the two maids were experienced and in short order Kirsty’s mouth was stretched wide and a latex-covered steel ring was fitted behind her teeth, preventing her from closing her mouth. Four curved metals arms pressed into her rubber face thus preventing the gag from rotating backwards in her mouth and coming loose. The strap was pulled behind her head and buckled tightly. Kirsty knew now why her lower legs had not been secured. She tried to keep her feet from being attended to but their only movement was up and down and were easily controlled. Her shoe’s locks were removed and the shoes taken from her feet. Kirsty flexed her ankles in a vain attempt to prevent the boots going on but to no avail. One slave held her leg still while the other pushed a boot on. She felt her toes being forced towards the points of the boots, she felt the laces being threaded; despite her head being free, she looked away as her feet were pushed into the awful footwear. Madam Pain went behind Kirsty and held her head in her hands, forcing her to look down at her feet.

"Watch!" She ordered.

The maids took fifteen minutes putting on and lacing the boots, drawing the laces in, tighter and tighter, her feet slowly being bent to the shape of the unyielding leather-covered steel soles. They hurt now, what would it be like when she had to stand in them!? A final pull on the laces and then they were tied off, leather straps were buckled up covering the knots and going round her ankles, padlocks were passed through holes in the straps and the boots were now irremovable.

The boots on, her calves were pushed back against the front legs and secured in place; she was immobile. Madam Pain reattached the neck chains and forehead strap. Kirsty was, to say the least, uncomfortable. Her mouth was stretched wide, her feet bent into unnatural positions, her ass was still being violated by the dildo and the pain from those innocuous wooden points was growing as she tried to squirm into a comfortable position that didn’t exist. Her legs were held wide apart showing her audience everything she had. Moving her gaze around the room she saw some members of the crowd sitting still, hands in laps, some obviously in a state of arousal and in at least once instance, a man had his hand up the skirt of his neighbour while she, mouth wide open, gasped with pleasure. Kirsty was an object for these people’s entertainment, whatever was going to be done to her, none of these people would help her. She was alone, caught in the lights like a frightened rabbit. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Madam Pain looking at her with what looked like encouragement showing on her face. She saw her Madam momentarily squint her eyes and a caring smile briefly appeared on her lips. Kirsty, despite her predicament, felt that perhaps after all, there was someone here who would protect her, in a deviant sort of way.

The spikes continued their insidious encroachment into her flesh and she dearly wished she could just move over a little so they pressed into a different part of her skin; they were a form of Chinese water torture, nothing much at first but eventually impossible to ignore. Her head was sweating behind her hood and the sweat stung her eyes, saliva dripped uncontrollably onto her chin and breasts.

Madam Pain stepped forward into the lights. “Ladies and gentlemen, in your boxes you will find a tiny cane. Later in the evening you will be invited on to the stage to whip the Slut’s breasts. Each member, and I see there are thirty two of you, will be allowed two strikes on each breast so there will be an attractive network of welts on our slaves ample bosom.”

Kirsty eyes widened and she shook her head, crying out in fear. Tears started to fall from her eyes, how could she escape this? She struggled against the bonds but they were unforgiving and the wooden spikes pushed in again. Kirsty moaned in pain and fear, how long would this all go on?

“So, firstly we will have some suffocation, always a good way to warm up.” The slaves grabbed the back of the chair and tipped it backwards, Madam took a piece of ordinary cloth and draped it over Kirsty’s face, then taking a bottle of water poured it over the cloth, soaking it through. This was a torture technique used on and by terrorists and gave the sufferer the impression of drowning as they tried to get breath though the soaked cloth. Kirsty realised she was getting no air, every time she breathed in the wet cloth threatened to enter her mouth and water passed into her throat. She tried to breathe out pushing the cloth away but then trying to breathe in again achieved nothing and she could not even gasp; she did indeed believe they were going to drown her. She was on the verge of passing out when the cloth was snatched away and air once again was available. Her chest heaved as she gulped in the air and the cloth went over her face again, more water being poured on. Kirsty heaved on her chest muscles until the cloth was again removed. Madam did this maybe five more times before the cloth was finally put away. Kirsty gasped for air as the chair was once again put upright, there was a female moan from the audience, this had obviously been all too much for one observer as she orgasmed loudly but Kirsty was oblivious to it as she breathed heavily, coughing occasionally. She felt moisture on her upper thighs and realised she had wet herself.

The well-rehearsed maids brought over a bottle of water and made Kirsty drink it all, difficult though it was being unable to use her lips because of the gag; it was now obvious that she was to be seen pissing in front of her audience at regular intervals, she no longer cared.

“Now, a little audience participation, I need two ladies to come out and put straps around her breasts as we will require them to be a little firmer.”

All the women in the audience held up their cards and Madam Pain pointed at two and beckoned them forward. One was dressed in a black leather catsuit that covered everything apart from her mouth and chin and her shaven pussy, a tight corset showing off her figure, high boots giving her a superior demeanour; her hair piled out of the back of her mask in a long ponytail that fell to her waist, dark sunglasses hid her eyes. The other wore an elegant, low cut evening gown of finest pastel red rubber, her hair tied up, an owl mask hiding her identity. She also had oh-so-tightly laced rubber gloves up over her elbows, barely a wrinkle could be seen in them. A diamond ring was worn over one finger and gold bracelets adorned both wrists; there was money here.

“You may touch her intimately if you wish.”

They came forward and both women ran their hands over Kirsty’s bound body; touching, probing, pinching. They put their fingers in her pussy — the first time she had been touched there since she arrived — pushed and pulled her ass dildo, ran their fingers inside her mouth behind the ring-gag. One of the women kissed her forced-open mouth, her tongue lazily tracing a circle around the taught lips before sensuously letting her saliva drip in. Kirsty was becoming aroused with the kissing and touching, the pain from the wooden spikes lessening as eroticism started to turn it into yet more masochistic pleasure. Madam coughed and the women stopped their ministrations. They were each handed a thin leather strap and the slaves tipped the chair forward so that Kirsty’s breasts hung downwards.

“Apply the straps as far down to the base of each breast as you can and tighten them to the third hole, make sure you do not trap the skin.”

The women carried out their task, the one with the very tight gloves on, taking a little longer.

“Thank you ladies, you may return to your seats.”

The slaves returned the chair to its normal position and Madam Pain tightened the straps one more hole causing Kirsty’s breasts to balloon and start to turn a shade of purple. Madam manipulated the flesh making sure that the tissues were under a suitable amount of pressure. She rubbed her thumbs over the nipples and despite everything, they became erect.

At a nod from Madam Pain, the chair was tipped back and before Kirsty could utter a sound, the wet cloth was back over her face and as she was tortured while her breasts were hit with a small cane, causing her to shriek into the cloth as she drowned once again. The cloth was removed and upright once more, Madam Pain continued to gently and idly hit her breasts with the tiny, thin cane leaving red marks across her tender, taught flesh.

Madam Pain stood back and addressed the audience once more.

“Another vote. Shall she be given pleasure before the main event? With Mistress M’s permission, we will use her pain-slut.” The blindfold slave’s owner nodded her assent. “Green for a rest and a little pleasure, red for more water torture.” Kirsty eyed the audience with fear only slightly relaxing when she could see the only slightly larger quantity of green cards.
“So be it, bring the pain-slut and remove her gag.”

The pain-slut was unchained and brought over to Kirsty where she was forced to her knees between Kirsty’s legs. The gag was released from its harness and the slave opened her mouth wide as the penis was pulled out. The gag that had been in the woman’s mouth was covered in tiny steel spikes that all this time had been digging into her mouth, tongue and the tip of her throat. She was pushed forward into Kirsty’s cunt and she instantly began licking and tonguing around and inside her. Kirsty was at first mortified that she was having a lesbian experience in front of all these people but the pain-slut knew her job and Kirsty was soon moaning in pleasure, the pain of the wooden spikes forgotten. Despite herself, she felt her orgasm growing as the pain-slut continued her ministrations and just as she tipped over the edge the forgotten dildo in her ass erupted again, and again the orgasm could not be stopped. While her ass was shocked over and over again, Kirsty came, her body bucking against the bonds and the spikes as she revelled in pain.

The pain-slut was removed and she obediently opened her mouth and the horrible spiked gag was reinserted and fastened in place. Mistress M pulled her slave back to her binding post and rechained her on her knees. Before leaving her she grabbed each ankle in turn and taking her riding crop from her waist belt she beat the soles of the pain-sluts feet a number of times before leaving her silent but shaking with pain and misery.

“You may have noticed ladies and gentleman that the Slut is shocked when she orgasms. This is because the anal probe has sensors that detect the additional tension in her sphincter that comes about when orgasm approaches. The tension is autonomic and therefore cannot be consciously prevented. The Slut has now become aware that any time she has an orgasm she will be electrocuted in the anus. Already she fears the pain but desires the pleasure and the two are inseparable. Over time, her mind will be unable to separate these two opposite actions while wearing electric dildos and orgasming will initiate a shock, then eventually, through association, in its turn a shock may well initiate an orgasm, or at least give a form of pleasure if given in the right circumstances. It's an intriguing thing to watch develop.”

Kirsty had thought that someone was doing the electrocution but it was her doing it to herself; while the dildos were in she could not come without the pains deep in her bowels. She was aware in her subconscious that she was having trouble separating the two sensations, each time she thought of an orgasm she thought of anal pain; for a brief moment she desired the next orgasm before fear recovered in her mind.

Without warning, her ass was on fire once more and Kirsty shrieked through her ring-gag although she was aware, deep down, of a certain masochistic pleasure too; Madam Pain could well be right

“And just so you are aware, Slut, you can still be shocked by any of the senior staff any time they wish.”

The pain stopped and Kirsty’s chest heaved; how much more of this?! How long could she continue? She was getting tired and she hurt. Her whole body was wracked with pain, her jaw ached from the pressure of the ring-gag, her breasts increasingly felt the pressure of the little straps and the tiny whip marks were like a thousand nettle-stings on her engorged and increasingly purple breast flesh...and she needed to pee.

Madam Pain looked around the audience and her eyes stopped having found her subject.

“Mr J. Since you were good enough to start our evening's entertainment I have a request if you are fully recovered from your exercise with the pain-slut earlier?”

“I am indeed recovered, Madam Pain, do you wish me to repeat my performance?"

“Not with the pain-slut. This one has had her dildo in for some hours now so she should be fairly relaxed please come and avail yourself.”

Kirsty’s eyes widened. She was not ready for this even though she knew the time would come eventually, she was supposed to have been trained for this event and yet it comes after such a short time. She had seen Mr J’s impressive manhood at first hand and feared it would damage her. Kirsty shook her head as much as the chains would allow and cried out with distorted words that she didn’t want this; she was ignored. The slaves tipped the chair forward and locked it into place as Mr J went behind Kirsty and unzipped himself once more. One of the maids lubricated his penis with gel then undid the chains holding the anal probe in place and removed it before adding more gel to her sphincter. Kirsty felt for a moment that she was shitting herself but it was only the sensation. Mr J. stepped forward and using his hand to guide himself, pushed his penis slowly into Kirsty’s ass, a little at first before pulling out and then going back in further; he was at least being somewhat considerate, letting her get used to it a little. Kirsty moaned as the penis went in and was a little less apprehensive when she found it not as painful as she expected. Although Mr J was larger than the dildo, he was not made of hard rubber and there was a certain flexing of the tissue that made penetration less uncomfortable. Mr J. proceeded to move in and out of her ass and she continued to grunt and moan as he had his way with her, pressing up to the hilt as his pleasure grew. She could feel only his cock as his weight was being borne by the back of the infernal chair with only her ass available to Mr J; Kirsty could feel his cock twitching inside her. He continued to thrust as Madam Pain spoke.

“I think we will need two more before we move on.” said Madam and selected two men who she thought had raised their hands first. Kirsty could not see Madam Pain from her position but heard her request for extra men. She was to be fucked at least twice more in the ass. Mr J. took a little longer this time before he grunted and thrust hard before shedding his load. He pulled out and Kirsty soon felt another penis pushing at her ring and it easily succumbed so Kirsty was fucked again. Again she felt the warmth of another ejaculation in her ass and the penis was replaced yet again. By now she was fully lubricated with the men’s cum and although this man was bigger than the other two she accommodated him more easily than she cared to admit, sensations that were not wholly unpleasant were causing her surprise. The last man lasted some five minutes before ejaculation and as he pulled out she felt warm cum running on her cunt and thighs. She felt another pressure at her ass and realised that her violation by men was over for now as the dildo was replaced and chained in position once more, trapping the remaining cum in her bowels. The chair came upright once more and the blood that had accumulated in Kirsty’s face started to drain away; her face became less flushed. Kirsty saw the last man return to his seat, his cock still out and a woman next to him leaned over and cleaned it with her mouth…and cleaned it and cleaned it until the man started to grow erect once more. Kirsty imagined her ass full of the men’s semen and started to clench her buttocks in arousal before remembering the dildo’s sensors; she stopped.

“And so to the main event.” Madam Pain looked over the door at the rear of the audience and nodded as Matron, resplendent in her white rubber outfit, high heels and corset came in, pushing a small surgical trolley. Kirsty had hoped she'd finished being the evening's entertainment but it was not to be.

“Slut, you will have noticed the pain-slut’s vaginal piercings no doubt.” Kirsty had indeed noticed them, how could she not. There were rings and padlocks galore in the poor woman’s cunt lips. “In case you have forgotten…pain-slut, show us!”

Kirsty's chair was turned on its horizontal axis (what couldn’t this chair do?) so that she was facing the pain-slut and a bright spotlight was focussed on the woman’s genitals as the blinded woman obediently and blatantly opened her legs. Kirsty plainly saw the rings and the padlocks holding the woman’s cunt-lips together and it dawned on her what the ‘main event’ was to be. The light went out and the chair was rotated to face the audience again. Madam Pain stood on one side, gently tapping her vicious breast-whip against Kirsty’s purple left tit. She turned to Kirsty.

“You are to be pierced like the pain-slut. However she has relatively small rings in her vaginal lips and your own rings will be large, each one big enough that I can get two fingers through them, they will be threaded through stainless steel grommets and snapped shut using an internal locking mechanism that can only be operated once. They can never be opened again and will have to be cut off to be removed. The grommets are permanent while you are here. You will not be able to forget the rings are there, they will pull your flesh constantly and whenever you walk they will jingle and clatter together and can spin in their grommets; you may find this entertaining if you get bored sometime."

She chuckled briefly at her own joke, the audience joining in with their amusement. "

You are special, you will be the only person in the whole of this establishment that will have cunt-rings as large as this. Do you want these rings? You may answer ‘yes’ now.”

Madam Pain loosened her head strap and removed the ring gag before reattaching her to the head section. Kirsty’s ass was shocked again. She gasped and quickly answered.

“Yes, My Madam Pain, I wish to be pierced.”

She did not wish to be pierced, not like that, not with so many rings, not such large ones. Perhaps she didn’t or then again, maybe she did; nothing would be permanent, they had told her so, but it appeared they also lied. She noted that the shocking in her ass seemed not as strong and she felt a hint of arousal thinking about carrying heavy rings in her cunt-lips.

“There is a tiny, tiny downside with such large piercings though and as part of our contract I am obliged to fully inform you. The grommets used in these piercings have a diameter slightly larger than the ring cross-section and a needle will not do the trick, in your case, a hole punch will be used, removing a small circle of flesh, this will be very painful and may take a few weeks to heal fully although we probably won't wait until healing is complete before using the rings in earnest. Your flesh will be stretched greatly and the holes will be large. If the grommets are removed they may not fully close and despite what I said earlier there may be some residual scarring. Will you proceed with this Slut? I desire this from you, will you obey me?”

‘Oh, clever, clever,’ thought Kirsty. ‘I am asked a question then reminded I am here to obey. To fulfil my contract I must obey, I am being asked once again to obey. What would happen if I refused? I am to be scarred for life and I don't care.’

Kirsty clenched her anal sphincter as hard as she could and the dildo dutifully obeyed and shocked her ass.

Kirsty gasped at the pain then said, “I will obey you My Madam Pain. Please pierce me.”

“Well done, Slut. You bind yourself to me and I to you by our unwritten contract. I am yours and you are mine, it shall be as you request.”

Kirsty looked at her beautiful mistress and felt something emotional. She thought she could actually love this woman. There was a vulnerability about her and even though Kirsty sat in a pain-chair, hooded, whipped, penetrated and soon to be pierced, she wanted to love this woman, to make her safe and protect her.

“I wish it, My Madam Pain, I truly wish it.” And truly, she really did.

Madam Pain looked to the entrance doorway. "Matron, would you come forward please?"

As Matron approached, not wearing any goggles as she would need her full sight for this. She, still locked in her rubber uniform, carrying her forceps and her surgical punch, the audience applauded, they had never seen a show like this. Was it staged, genuine, a mixture? All petting had stopped, for now the sex had left the room and the assembled watchers were in awe as two people apparently pledged themselves to each other in a strange and deviant way. Only one person was not watching; the pain-slut gazed into her blindfold, wrapped up in her misery as little flecks of blood fell from her mouth onto her breasts.

But yet another WAS watching. The Empress gazed at the monitor in her office, idly playing with the nipples of a hogtied slave. “Very nice, dear sister, you certainly can put on a show. I am looking for a permanent Presentation-Slave and now I’m in two minds as to who it will be.” The Empress knew that Madam Pain had powerful friends but then so did she, as did Madam Omega and Madam Alpha. The three others wanted the Empress' power and The Empress now saw at least Madam Pain’s weakness — and it was ‘relaxing’ in a chair before her.

The chair had been tipped back somewhat and Matron sat on a low stool between the chair's legs giving her clear access to Kirsty’s vulva.

"I think this might get a little noisy," said Madam Pain, "I think we need a decent gag."

A maid collected a penis gag from a table at the back of the stage and without ceremony, inserted the two inches into Kirsty's mouth eliciting a grunt in response. She pulled the straps around the back of the headrest, adding further security to Kirsty's head restraint.

Matron moved in for 'the kill', brandishing her tools like a butcher about to dissect a pig.

Firstly, she used a sterile black pen to mark the positions of the holes, leaning back on occasion to ensure that everything was level and equally spaced. She moved Kirsty's labia this way and that in such a way that Kirsty would have taken pleasure in the manipulation were it not for the overarching fear of what was to come. Finally, Matron reached for the forceps, attaching half of a grommet into its receptacle on one side and the other in the opposite side. She ensured the holes in the grommets were precisely aligned with the first of the black marks she had made and bringing her surgical hole-punch into line with the grommets in the forceps, lightly squeezed the vulnerable flesh. She glanced at Madam Pain and she in turn nodded briefly.

Matron operated her punch.

Kirsty bucked in her chair, far more than one would have thought the restraints would allow. The veins that could be seen beneath the collar line of the hood bulged and her chest went red with the strain.


Her breath soared in and out of her nostril tubes and around the penis gag, snot and saliva ran over the rubber of the hood as the pain hit her hard and some dropped on to her globe-like, purple, strapped breasts. Matron squeezed the forceps hard and a light 'click' was heard as the two halves of the grommet fastened themselves together irrevocably and as matron removed a small circular piece of flesh from the punch tool, blood fell from the wound.

Most of the audience watched entranced by the show although one or two had turned away when that first scream came out of the tortured woman. Many of them had seen piercings but nothing like this display of sadism and eroticism. One woman turned to her female partner who sat at her feet dressed in corset and stockings and a steel collar around her neck, pointed at Kirsty, then pointed at her partner's genital area. The slave looked horrified at first and her mistress/partner laughed. The slave had a look of fear on her face, not knowing whether she was serious or not. She hoped she wasn't serious, but, then again, she did think they would look good, but only a couple though; her expression changed to a look of 'hey, maybe'.

Matron moved to the labium on the other side and prepared again her forceps and grommet. Madam Pain held up her hand.

"One moment matron. Slave, release her head from the restraint and reattach the penis gag, she might like to watch, or at least shake her head in disbelief." The maid did as she was ordered and Kirsty tried to move her head to stop the gag being reinserted but with her movement so limited it was only a moment before she was 'silenced' again.

Matron continued with her grisly work again, and again. On one occasion Kirsty fainted with the pain and the strain but was brought round with smelling salts.

Kirsty had cried and screamed and shaken her head in denial as her flesh was punctured. Her body arched within the bondage limits and the wooden spikes started to tear into her flesh, staining the chair with drops of her blood. Behind her gag, she begged that the torture be stopped, that she had changed her mind and couldn’t go on but no intelligible words came out. She threatened them with the police, tried to shout that she would sue but still it went on, hole after hole, grommet after grommet. Her fighting made her ass clench and each time this happened the dildo in her ass shocked her again and again. The pain-slut had been brought over to lick up the blood and keep some of the pain away with her tongue. Kirsty's full bladder caused her to spontaneously spray piss over the pain-slut and Matron’s immaculate white rubber suit and her blood-stained gloves. Her chest heaved and her body sweated, moisture leaking from her eye and mouth holes, around the gag. The audience paid rapt attention to every move that matron made, gasping with emotion when another grommet went in and Kirsty screamed or moaned , her crying was continuous and her hood was soaked with mucus from her nose, tears from her eyes and saliva from her penis-filled mouth. In the audience one man had forced his partner to back onto his cock and they fucked lasciviously while they watched the torture.

At last, after an hour, the tenth puncturing had been done and Matron stood up indicating that the maid should bring the rings. She came over with a tray, placing them on a low table next to Matron's rubber-covered form also leaving a couple of small, wet towels with one of which Matron wiped her gloves. Matron indicated to the pain-slut that she needed to do a final clean and the maid had her kneel down between Kirsty's legs, pushing her face into the bloodied mess that was Kirsty's cunt. She did an admirable job considering she could not see and the wounds looked clean but angry red, Kirsty reflexively thanked the slut by spraying piss all over her face. After a few minutes, during which Kirsty calmed down, still sobbing, Matron pushed the slut out of the way and following the sound of her Mistresses instructions, the pain-slut crawled back to resume her kneeling position at her side, obediently opening her mouth for her Mistress to reinsert the spike gag.

Matron looked to Madam Pain who again nodded from her 'ringside' seat for her to proceed. Matron took one of the rings, currently with the ends held slightly apart with a metal former which stopped the ring shutting and locking by itself. Then, removing the former and holding the ring open by hand, she placed one end through one of the bottom-most grommets. With a barely audible 'click', the open ring became the 'O' of a sealed ring as the hidden lock did its work. The die was cast, Kirsty had her first cunt ring in place.

At least the pain had diminished to a horrible ache now and her ass was no longer being shocked. Kirsty tried to get some sexual pleasure from all this but for now, nothing would come to her, just pain and humiliation. She looked down as Matron took each ring and fastened it to her until at last, after a last wipe of the cunt with the damp cloth, she stood up and stepped back to admire her handiwork, a sheen of perspiration had leaked out from her hoods' eye holes and dampened her face. Inside her rubber suit she had been sweating profusely with the effort and stress but still had to wait until Saturday before it was removed.

"Madam Pain, the task is complete."

The audience cheered and applauded both Matron and the unfortunate slave.

Kirsty was finally resplendent in her permanent metal, five large rings down each cunt-lip. Each ring had been clicked ominously into place, the only way they could now be removed was with a saw or a cutting torch and the weight of stainless steel now adorning Kirsty’s cunt-lips dragged them earthward.

It was over. Kirsty sat exhausted, the pain from the wooden spikes just a constant presence. Under her chair, flecks of blood had mixed with Kirsty's piss.

Madam Pain got up and stood in front of her slave, she took a cloth and wiped the mess from the face of Kirsty's hood before removing the penis gag.

"This part of the ordeal is over, do you have anything to say?"

“I am yours, My Madam Pain, I thank you for my new rings, I will never remove them.”

“You may change your mind Slut, but the sentiment is well-received. Before we release her from the chair, there is one more thing to do this evening. Ladies and gentlemen, please line up with your whips.”

In her pain Kirsty had forgotten about the little whips and once more her fear arose. Her head sagged forward as her exhaustion caught up with her. She had no more screaming in her, her throat raw, no more begging words, no more moans. She just slowly shook her head in resignation and acceptance as tears flowed once more.

Madam Pain signalled to a slave and her forehead strap was tightened to the headrest once more, Kirsty could again move nothing. Her penis gag was held up and Kirsty looked at her Madam and used her eyes and a gentle shake of her head. Madam Pain nodded in reply and put the penis gag to one side.

"I shall make no noise." My Madam Pain, "this is for you only."

Madam briefly placed one hand on Kirsty's shoulder and continued.

"You may only strike each breast twice, do not abuse this privilege. You may strike as hard as you like since the short length of the whips is such that no severe damage can be caused but the pain is quite delicious -- so I've heard." The audience laughed at this little joke and began getting out of their seats and making a line to the left of the stage.


At Madam Pain’s instruction, the audience moved towards Kirsty. One by one, they slashed at Kirsty's bulging tits and Kirsty moaned lightly in pain as piss sprayed onto the floor as she once again lost control of her still-filling bladder. The little whips were about ten inches long and very thin. They had no real weight and were designed to sting the skin. Kirsty already had welts on her tits from Madam Pain's previous ministrations and very soon there would be many more.

Each person lifted their arms and gave each of her breasts their two permitted strikes before moving on past. For fifteen minutes the torment went on as the audience had only four strikes each and were reluctant to hurry. Many of the guests stood around Kirsty as others carried out their whipping, some touching her, some touching themselves, pressing her anal probe in and out, touching the new welts, kissing her hooded head and her gagged mouth and putting their hands on the new rings between her legs, feeling her grommets, poking and pressing her flesh like she was a piece of meat -- which of course, she was. Kirsty was in a haze of pain and humiliation, each blow seemed to coalesce into the next. The wooden spikes continued to press into her flesh and she seemed to be aware of each individual one. She concentrated on those little points of pain and imagined each one pressing into her skin as blows continued to land on her breasts, one from the top, another underneath then a third across a nipple and so on, seemingly without end. She felt she was becoming one with the whips, with the rings, with the spikes, her bonds and with her rubber hood and she felt a comforting warmth between her legs as astonishingly she started to become aroused. The queue was still long and Kirsty found herself pushing her breasts forward as the next man or woman took their whipping stance. Madam Pain noticed the change in Kirsty's demeanour and said out loud, "I believe the bitch is about to take pleasure, whip harder and faster, two of you at once."

Kirsty pushed her punished tits out harder, trying to lift her buttocks, trying to entice someone to whip her tortured pussy. She felt a wave start to emanate from her loins and as the whipping increased and the queue got shorter, she looked Madam Pain in the eyes with a pleading look, she thrashed about in her bonds, breaking her promise of no noise, crying with pleasure as the last person -- the Mistress with the pain-slut -- slashed at her tits.

"Keep going Mistress M, keep whipping," called Madam Pain over Kirsty's sobs of ecstasy. The Mistress put all her strength into her actions and as Kirsty's flesh gave up the fight and started to bleed from the welts. Kirsty was strangely drawn to watching Mistress M's bare breasts with the drop nipple rings bouncing around. She finally went over the top, and with every muscle straining against the bonds that held her she orgasmed better, harder, longer than she had ever done before, ably assisted by the electric dildo in her ass.

 Mistress M slowed her whipping and finally stopped, exertion showing on her face, her nipple adornments coming to rest. Kirsty's breasts were a whipped mess with deep red lines criss-crossing every part of her bulging globes. Madam M returned to her seat, removed the spike gag from her slave and pulled the unfortunate woman's head to her crotch, her head thrown back with passion as the pain-slut carried out her work with gusto.

And then it was over. Madam Pain instructed the maids to release her from the chair and as the slaves removed her gag and the straps holding her down, Kirsty cried as the blood flowed back into her skin where the spikes had made their impression in the flesh. The breast straps were also removed and when the blood flowed back into her tortured globes the pain from the whipping increased ten-fold and Kirsty clutched at her tits, moaning.

“An excellent performance, slut,” said Madam Pain, “now stand and feel how your feet will suffer in the weeks to come. Kirsty had forgotten about the torturous boots and the maids helped her up. Agony coursed through her feet as she struggled to put her weight down. Her knees stayed bent as she struggled to stand upright; any attempt to straighten her legs resulted in pain in her calves and insteps.

“Stand up straight,” ordered Madam Pain, “or you will spend the night seated in the chair.” Kirsty stood up with an effort and straightened her knees and nearly fell, so unbalanced did she feel.

“I expect you are pretty desperate to piss are you not, Slut?”

“I may have already done so, My Madam Pain, I cannot remember but yes, I do need desperately to go.”

Madam Pain walked over to the wall and picked up a metal bucket and was about to place it on the floor between Kirsty’s legs but realising there was no point considering the state of the floor beneath the chair, she put it back in its place.

“Kneel and open your legs.” she ordered. “Abase and humiliate yourself in front of these assembled guests.”

Kirsty was beaten. She was exhausted, she no longer cared about her previous life where she was all-powerful, where people like this would jump at her every word, it was almost but a memory and she had been here no time at all. What would be left of her after four more months? She opened her bladder and heard and felt her urine hit the floor as she sprayed all over her new rings and her thighs until she was empty. She waited, kneeling in her own piss and blood as another round of applause came from the assembled guests who stood in admiration at the conclusion of the show.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this evening's main event is now at an end, please go through and avail yourselves of the food and drink and I will be with you shortly."

Madam had everyone retire back to the drawing room and the comfy armchairs. Kirsty got to her feet and stood, standing over the mess on the floor as they left the room. She was worn out, she had given them a show and now they had gone, all of them, including the maids, only the pain-slut in her blindness and spiked silence remained kneeling, still attached to her post. She thought that apart from the slut, she was in the room on her own as the spotlight was still on her and she could see little against the glare. She struggled to remain standing in her ballet heels but then sat down on one of the chairs thigh supports, oblivious to the wooden spikes digging into her buttocks; the dildo went all the way in and she didn't care.

“You did well.” Kirsty put her hand up to shield her eyes from the light and looked out to see Madam Pain with her arms folded, leaning against the wall by the closed door. “I did expect you to faint at some point but you did so less often than I thought you would; you are resilient and I look forward to many more punishments. Come, you are exhausted and need support so you will spend the rest of the evening on display. I have had a stand brought for you as your suffering is not yet over.”

Kirsty stood and hobbled over to the door, struggling in her new footwear and using the backs of the chairs for support, her knees bending to accommodate the height and shape of her boots. She remembered she had to keep her knees straight and with effort, stood upright, trying to look proud in her humiliation, trying to look as if she were still a woman to be admired and respected; Madam Pain thought she almost succeeded.

Madam Pain took Kirsty's arm and led her into the other room where the guests had made themselves comfortable, chatting, eating, drinking, abusing the maids with wandering hands. She was led to her new home for the next few hours and a maid put her useless skirt back on for slutty appearances sake, the rings easily seen beneath the ridiculously high hem. The stand consisted of a metal framework wherein a steel pole was fixed into a large metal floor-plate, it stood in a small tiled area of the drawing room and like the one in Madam Pain’s room this had a drain in it. At thigh-height were two circles of metal, hinged at the mounting point. Kirsty was moved into position such that the circles of metal went round her upper thighs which were closed and locked into place. Kirsty's ankles were then fastened with metal manacles to the base of the pole, more manacles held her above the knees preventing them from bending. She was now fixed in an upright position, her whole weight pressing down on her feet with her legs held perfectly straight. Semicircles of metal were brought around her waist and clipped closed in front while her arms were pulled backwards and fastened into metal shackles attached to another horizontal pole which stuck out backwards at waist height. Another circle went around her neck and she was immobile again, her whole weight on her feet with no way to move them or reduce the pressure. The pain started immediately.

The guests were served more drinks and food was available on tables and they moved around talking, networking, and discussing the evening's entertainment. Some would gather around the imprisoned slut, touching her intimately, poking and pressing Kirsty's tortured flesh, playing with her rings and dildo, pushing on her whipped breasts. Occasionally people would go back into the pain room where the pain-slut had been left attached to her pole, to do unspeakable things to her and to each other. Kirsty occasionally heard muffled shrieks from the room.

Madam Pain approached her and stood in front, a cocktail in her hand. She lifted a gloved finger and traced a line from one whip mark to the next, occasionally pulling or pushing Kirsty's breasts. Momentarily she turned away and signalled one of the maids who came over, moving smoothly on her high-heels.

“Fit her with goggles, a harness to prevent her moving her head and a pain gag; she has done well tonight but her suffering must continue.” She turned to Kirsty and said, “I shall be back when you are prepared, my love.” She walked off and began talking to a guest, edging around a woman on her knees wearing a ripped evening gown, her breasts exposed, sucking the lucky Mr J’s cock.

‘My love’ Kirsty heard. Was that a term of endearment or words designed to give spiritual sustenance, a way of carrying on. She fretted, surely not a gag like the pain-slut's?!

The slave came back shortly and after applying the darkening goggles, fastened a leather head harness to Kirsty which was then affixed to the stand keeping her from turning her head at all. A penis of stiff rubber was brought towards Kirsty’s mouth and she could see it was exactly the same as the one the pain-slut had been wearing, she tried to draw back but there was little to no slack and she could not turn away. The penis shape was covered in tiny metal spikes from front to back and was about two inches long. The slave lifted it up and to avoid having the spikes stick into her lips Kirsty opened her mouth as wide as she could and the slave inserted it fully. Kirsty felt the blunted frontal spikes press towards the back of her throat and there was no way she could avoid her mouth being punished all over. She tried to keep her palate and tongue away from the points but eventually had to settle her mouth around the gag allowing them to do their work, points pressed into her lips as well. The gag was fastened to the head harness and the whole thing locked into place. Kirsty’s world was discomfort and pain.

Shortly Madam Pain returned.

“You are almost complete. Your boots have been fitted, are they painful yet?” She didn’t wait for a reply, “Of course they are, and you will wear them until you leave, you may never be able to wear anything else after four months in them, or perhaps something similar but even more uncomfortable.” Kirsty moaned, the throat action causing her pain.

“I see the wooden spikes from the chair have caused you some discomfort, your skin has ripped in places and there is some blood on the carpet that the general-slaves will have to clean up tomorrow although it's nothing compared to the mess you left on the stage of pain.”

Kirsty could say nothing, she just tried to keep her mouth parts away from the spikes but not with much success.

“Now,” said Madam Pain, “you are complete. You have your boots on and you cannot take the weight off your feet, you cannot bend your knees or move your arms. Your breasts are stinging from a hundred whip marks, your mouth and throat are being tormented with metal spikes, your rubber-covered head has a tight harness on it, the neck piece holds you rigid and most of all, your cunt bears the weight of ten huge stainless steel rings. You are probably just a bundle of pained misery. It will be a long night of drinking and talking for me but eventually the guests will all leave and eventually I will get to my bed; I won’t speak with you again tonight. I have business to attend to late tomorrow morning but I will come and see you at about midday and perhaps we can sit and have another of our chats.” She smirked. “After all the guests have left, the slaves will remove you from your little frame and bring you to my room. They will remove everything and allow you some time alone in the bathroom – don’t wake me up – you will then be chained in your square in my quarters, by then you will probably need a bit of a sit-down. If you need to urinate before you are taken down, which you will, you’ll just have to do it where you are. I will have the pain-slut lick you out occasionally until its mistress takes it home so you’ll not be entirely alone all evening.”

Kirsty tried to get some words out but the mouth spikes prevented her from uttering more than a pained moan.

She kissed Kirsty on her gag and with a little squeeze with her palms on the breast marks, she turned and rejoined the party leaving Kirsty in her misery.

It was a long evening for Kirsty as she struggled with the pain her new boots were causing her. With what little movement the ankles cuffs left her she was able to slightly lift first one foot then the other to gain the tiniest bit of relief. The marks on her breasts became a general burning sensation which became a constant companion, her pussy lips ached and pulsed with her heart beat.

Guests would come and look at her on occasions, touching, pinching and prodding, her breasts attracting unwanted attention but her cunt piercings attracting more. Men would touch them briefly, scientifically testing their weight, it was the women who investigated more intimately, pulling them, lifting them, probing inside her vagina, forcing their fingers in between her closed legs, occasionally trying to taste her with their mouths much to the arousal of the watching men. The bar holding her hands prevented any of the men getting near her ass with their manhoods so they settled for standing behind her pulsing the dildo in and out, sometimes for five minutes at a time, presumably living out the penetration in their minds. As Madam had promised, the pain-slut was occasionally positioned in front of her and despite her closed legs the experienced woman managed to get at most of her sex and her rings and gave her some pleasure and blessed relief from the agony of the piercing wounds. The pain-slut was probably quite grateful to be sucking anything apart from that awful gag, of which Kirsty now had first-hand experience. Try as she might though, she was unable to come to a climax because of the exhaustion and discomfort, which was perhaps just as well as she knew that she could not come again without the electricity tormenting her colon.

At about 2am, the gathering started to break up and some guests headed off home but most others, quite drunk, staggered off to their rooms in the mansion. Kirsty was upset to see her companion in misery this evening was being dragged roughly from the room in the direction of the front door, her sight still not restored, her agonising gag back in place.

Soon, everyone had left and most of the lights were turned off as if Kirsty was just a discarded toy; she was alone and seemingly forgotten, struggling on her metal stand. Madam Pain had not even given a backward glance as she left with one of the men; Kirsty had felt jealous when she saw them leave arm in arm. The door had been closed and only a few muffled voices could be heard coming from the hall before eventually even those voices drifted away leaving only silence. For fifteen minutes Kirsty heard nothing but her own laboured breathing, she had nothing else to do but concentrate on her position. In frustration, she occasionally jerked around in her stand, pulling at her bonds trying to get her hands out of their cuffs, her feet from the ankle manacles, screaming into her pain gag as she shook her head from side to side against the harness to try to gain some freedom…all to no avail and so her attempts frustrated, she stood still once more.

“So, how is it going so far, dear Kirsty.” said a voice from the shadows in the corner of the room. Kirsty jumped, she had thought she was completely alone. She moved her eyes in the direction of the voice but saw nothing until a swivel chair on the far side of the room turned. A woman rose to her feet and walked clearly into the light and into Kirsty’s view. And what a woman this was. Dressed from head to foot in black leather, corset, straps, chains, long ponytail erect from the back of her leather hood, this woman stood well over six feet tall in towering heels. Almond-shaped eye-holes in the leather hood showed dusky eyelids and long eye-lashes around midnight blue eyes. Petulant scarlet lips showed through a tailored mouthpiece and the finest leather outlined a pointed chin and high cheek-bones. The woman wore tight laced leather gloves and equally tight leather boots – with elegant heels – which were laced up to her thighs; thighs which seemed to go on forever. This was an apparition and Kirsty wondered if she was hallucinating, so gorgeous was this person. The woman strode forward easily on her high heels as if she had been born in them, until she stood a metre from Kirsty’s bound body. Kirsty tried to speak but the throat spikes made it all too much of an effort.

“I could take that out for a moment but it will hurt more when I have to put it back in, so for your sake I think we’ll leave it.” Kirsty shook her head and tried to indicate it should come out but the woman said, “Really, you wouldn’t thank me when it had to go back.” Kirsty wailed but the woman did not relent.

Kirsty was beginning to hear something familiar about the woman’s voice, it was refined, educated, upper-class but nevertheless, familiar. She gazed through the darkened glass of her goggles trying to see the woman’s eyes more clearly and eventually, while the woman smiled a knowing smile, recognition dawned – Josie!

“I can’t see your eyes very well Kirsty, but I think I can guess you have realised who I am? I know, my voice is a little different, but then I have to match the people I am with. I have fingers in many pies and all the pie owners have to believe in me, after all, you did.”

Kirsty couldn’t believe what she was hearing. First Janice the Menace turned out to be her very own Madam Pain/ML and now her best friend Josie had managed to keep her membership of a deviant society and her own proclivities a secret from her, and for how long? How long had Josie known of this place? How many more of her friends and acquaintances were members of this group?

“You being here has opened up some opportunities for me, I merely suggested to your Madam that you might be what she was looking for and now here you are. I know we had a bit of a thing once but alone I could not give you what you think you wanted, here everything you could desire is yours and you have made your choice. I wondered how long ‘Janice’, better known to you as My Lady or Madam Pain, would string you along for, she certainly holds a candle for you, but of course you didn’t hear that from me. Josie looked Kirsty up and down, touching some of her welts with her leather-covered fingertips. They must hurt.” Kirsty winced with the renewed pain.

“You’ll have been told how this place makes their money: video feeds, slave-training, ‘special’ events. Subscribers can 'virtually' visit almost anywhere in the mansion, at any time, and watch anything that's going on, even if it's just watching rubber-clad slaves wandering the rooms and hallways doing menial tasks in rubber and bondage."

She continued. "I wasn’t in the room tonight but I watched you on TV. Imagine, maybe thousands of men, and many women, almost wanked themselves to death watching your performance in the pain-room; you’re a star. Even now, there are deviants out there watching you and I on their computers and the feeds will go on until you are released. They can’t hear us now but they would have been permitted to hear your screams in the pain-room and they were delicious; I look forward to hearing some more very soon. Don’t worry, my dear Kirsty, I’ll still love you very much and I am glad you came to this place, you are in good hands here; Madam Pain and this establishment will teach you much and give you far more than I ever could. Perhaps when this is all over you and I will go out to a cafe in Paris and laugh and talk about the ways of the world but for now I must leave you in your pain. I am here at the mansion for a few days so perhaps we will meet again. Introducing you here has made me many friends and my fetish photographic business will benefit greatly, I may even be taking pictures of you soon. With luck your new mistress may even let me whip you, do you think you would like that?”

Kirsty couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Had she effectively been sold so that Josie would benefit her business interests or was there genuine belief that Kirsty would ‘enjoy’ it here, free from the pressures of her life? It was something to consider another day as right now Josie had worked her leather fingers into Kirsty’s vagina, a thumb pressing insistently on her clitoris whilst the other hand was also pushing the familiar anal dildo in and out. What with the stimulation, the pain, the humiliation, even the video feeds, Kirsty’s tortured body began to respond and very soon the electricity fired her bowels once more as her throat almost bled from the cries of pain and pleasure that ensued.

After Kirsty had calmed, Josie wiped her hand on the slave's rubbered face, turned, and without another word, left the room without looking back.

Kirsty sagged as best she could given her bonds. She had orgasmed twice while under duress, each time her pleasure was mixed with the pain of the electricity in her ass. She stood here, erect and immobile, her feet, her cunt, her breasts, a mass of torment. Her sight darkened, her head invisible behind a coating of sweaty rubber, her mouth a focus of misery with spikes pressing into her delicate palate. The mansion and its occupants had gone much further with her than Kirsty could possibly have anticipated and in such a short time. She only came to obey, to be a simple house slave, but they had changed the rules; she had fallen in much further than she'd ever expected. It was fascinatingly horrible and horribly fascinating at the same time. Deep down she was afraid they would not honour the time frame she had specified but put that thought to one side.

Well done girl, she thought to herself, you're really up shit creek now and the only paddle you'll have will be one whipping your sorry ass!


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