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Review This Story || Author: Venom

Temple of Torture - Vanessa's First Journey

Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER:




1. This story is fiction.


2. This story is FICTION!


3. The author doesn’t endorse or play down violence and brutality


   of any kind against living beings in general and females


   in special. The author insists on the consumption only by


   those legally of age and where ADULT MATERIAL isn’t prohibited


   by law. If you get offended by those topics, stop reading.




                                          Venom, September 2007






Synopsis:




Three slavegirls ("a ponygirl, a painslut and a snuffette") become


attractions at the "Heaven's Gate Exhibition", an extreme and


exclusive underground torture fair.


Their deliciously cruel Mistress guides them to unknown hights of


suffering.




This is a loose sequel to "Temple of Torture". The author


recommends to read "Temple of Torture" first for becoming


acquainted with the characters' backgrounds.














                       Temple of Torture




                    Vanessa's First Journey






PROLOGUE






Still the Grand Mistress' words rang in Vanessa's head:




"A ponygirl, a painslut and a snuffette."




At noon, Vanessa, Kate and the very young brunette with the long


beautiful hair had been chosen by their cruel goddess and been


brought to the south-eastern wing of the old, concrete,


shelter-like complex. Here they had been soaped, washed and douched


by slavemaids in a sterile looking huge room, almost a hall.


Furthermore Kate and Vanessa had got their bellies pressurised


with chemical enemas.


Afterwards the trio had been collared tightly. Hands cuffed in


front and their ankles chained, all three had been hanged nude on


hooks running in a rail at the ceiling, just like in


slaughterhouses. Being lifted off the white-tiled floor, they had


dangled helplessly. One of the slavemaids had taken the long chain


dangling from the dainty brunette's collar and had headed towards


the big roller shutter at the far end of the room, where the


ceiling rail was leading to. The long-haired slavegirl's hook had


started to move, the chains from collar to collar had tightened, and finally Kate and then Vanessa followed their companion. All three had groaned as the pain in their shoulders reached intolerable levels through body weight and movement.


The roller shutter opened as they had reached it. Behind it had


been a smaller room, maybe ten metres deep, with a concrete


platform of about three metres length at the right wall and a


second gate in the far one; just like an airlock.


Relieved Vanessa had seen that a second rail branched off the main


one, leading them over the 60 centimetres high platform so they had


could reach ground with their feet. The slavemaid had left


wordless, the inner gate had shut and darkness had swallowed the


trio.








SLAVEGIRL TALK






The sweet brunette was the first daring speak:




"Damn, I'm just to short!"




Kate's eyes had get used to the darkness. The petite slave before


her, five feet, two inches of height, was dancing sexily on her


tiptoes the whole time. Her exceptionally long hair was waving with


the motion, cascaded in light curls down her shoulders to the small


of her back.


Kate could reach the cold floor better, and her lover Vanessa


behind her could stand almost flat on balls and heels.




"Be quite!", the tall blonde whispered




"What's your name?", Kate asked.




"Kate! shhhHHH!", Vanessa hissed.




"Michelle. Hello, Kate."




"Shut up, both! I beg you!"




"Relax." Michelle tried to turn around, but spun back by the


tension of the cuff's chain after ninety degrees.


"I know this area. I has been here before. They have stored us here


because they are busy. It's not a trap. Here are no microphones or


stuff like that. You are the two lovers Grand Mistress has tortured


so cruelly, right? Kate! And your name is...you are...?"




Vanessa moaned: "I'm dead meat!"




"Huh?"




"You have heard the Grand Mistress: a ponygirl - that's obviously


you; a painslut - that's what this sadistic bitch wants to change


my poor Katie into; and a snuffette - a silly cow like me, getting


snuffed slowly." Her voice had got a light crack at the last


words.




"Vanessa, don't...", Kate had been more successful in turning


around. Now she was hobbling towards her lover to comfort her,


working against collar and hook.


Behind her Michelle protested as the collar chain tightened, pulling the leather, buckled around her neck, against her larynx, choking her.




"Grand Mistress won't snuff you!", she croaked.




"Why not? She said it...you know something?! Where will we be


taken?", the Italian beauty said louder than intended.




Kate turned around again, eager to hear the answer.




Vanessa investigated further: "You've said that you has been here


before; and that all are busy! What's happening?!"




"I've no idea what is happening!" Michelle damned her loose tongue.




Kate pulled herself up on the hook and rammed her knees into the


back of Michelle's thighs.




"Oouuwwaa! Bitch!"




"Tell us! I've learned a lot from these sadistic whores here!"




"We are not supposed to know it! If Grand Mistress finds out..."




" 'No microphones or stuff like that' somebody told me. The same


who will tell me about our destination!" Kate nudged her again.




"Ooouuuww! Stop it!"




"Well...?"




Michelle moaned. These nudges really hurt! And every time the


strawberry blonde athletic bitch badgered her, she lost her


balance. And, finally, she was absolutely sure that this was just a


logistic area.




"Okay, okay! I've overheard that we are going to the Heaven's Gate


Exhibition, some kind of slave market and show for torture methods."




The hysterical undertone in Vanessa's voice was evident: "And from


that you conclude that I'm NOT getting snuffed?!"




"Wait! The exhibition has started four days ago. Tonight will be


the main event, presented by Grand Mistress." She heard Vanessa


almost go crazy. "No, wait! I was there two years ago! Of course


there are snuff shows, and Grand Mistress' performance will include


extreme tortures. But She has a very high reputation, so She'll


only use Her best slaves, slaves She 'll never sell or kill!"




Vanessa was far from being convinced: "I'm surely none of Her best


slaves."




"She likes you. Both of you."




"Are you crazy?! Do you know what this witch had done to us?!"




"Yes, I was there..."




"Wha...you are the girl that fitted these terrible shoes to me!"




"Yes, I'm sorry, but.,." She paused and pull herself up on the


chain to relieve her cramping calve muscles, causing more pain in


her shoulders. "...She forced me..." - "I know. You don't have to


apologise."




Although standing, more or less, the trio's shoulder joints were


still strained by their upraised arms. All of them now were


suffering from severe cramps in shoulders and backs. The handcuffs'


metal was cutting mercilessly into their wrists. Especially


Michelle's voice was filled with pain.


Furthermore the stretching of their slim bodies made it hard to


breathe and talk. But talking was the only thing they could do to


deal with their situation.




"Extreme tortures, you said?", Vanessa asked after some minutes.




"Nothing both of you haven't already endured inhumanly long."




"Great. Hear that, Katie? We are going to enjoy all our favourite


tortures again!", Vanessa laughed humourlessly.


"Maybe I should even hope to get snuffed!"




Kate had been silent for a while. Now she said: "How they are going


to transport us? By car?" - "Last time they did." - " Maybe we


could escape, once we are outside the area."


"No chance. We'll be bound most tightly and be heavily gagged.


Besides, do you know the flaxen-haired runaway, who's almost did it


to the inner fences before she was caught?"




"The Grand Mistress have sliced her Archilles' tendons."




"Yep. And the tendons in both her knee hollows."




Vanessa meanwhile has calmed down: "The Latvian? But I've seen her


afterwards. She clearly had been dragged through hell, but walked


more or less normally."




"Grand Mistress sliced the tendons LENGTHWISE, splitting them on a


length of four inches - as a first and final warning."




"IRRGH!"




"A single act of mercy."


 


"You are overhearing a lot." Kate's voice housed a strange tone. 


She didn't trust the teenager bound in front of her. Maybe Michelle


lied about the microphones, or maybe the Grand Mistress didn't need


any microphones to get informed. The brunette had broken the


silence first, was talking carelessly, trying to motivate Vanessa


and herself to do the same. If Kate would find out that Michelle


was a little spy, she would hurt the small sweetie till she pukes


her ovaries.




"You are right. Grand Mistress likes to have me around Her."




"What are you to Her? Some kind of pet?"




"I think so. Her little pony. Being a ponygirl is my fetish. Maybe


I'm something like a mascot, I guess."




"And you like that?!"




"I'm not entitled to decide that. Let me say so:


I consciously agreed to be abused against my will."




Vanessa couldn't believe what she was hearing.




"You VOLUNTARY let the Grand Mistress enslave you to become a


ponygirl?! You ARE crazy!"




Michelle hopped again to get a little less uncomfortable.




"I was young and stupid and didn't knew what I let myself in for.


Besides, I started as a normal slavegirl. In those days I was not


yet sure about my...penchant. So I didn't tell Her, especially not


when things went out of control, at least out of MY control.


And now I'm Grand Mistress favourite ponygirl, Her sweet 'Beauty',


since three years."




"How did She find out about your liking?", Vanessa asked.




"What do you think? She tortured me and I confessed.


She put me on The Rack, then stretched me till my shoulders popped


out; just for fun. I had already talked when She had racked me with


three or four notches.


Such a small body like mine hasn’t much length tolerance." - her


chains rattled - "I'm feeling it right now again...ponygirl...",


she said more to herself, "luckily I've never had intentions to be


a toilet slave."




Kate still wasn't free of doubts: "Why had you been at our torture


session?"




"Because it had been the will of Grand Mistress."




Michelle paused a moment, then mewed pertly: "Are you trusting me


now? Or would you like to kick me some more?"




"One more thing: I'm a little confused..."


- "I can tell!...Ouwahh!" - "CONFUSED about your more than three


years lasting enslavement: How old are you?"




"26."




Both Vanessa and Kate stammered incredulously, recalling the


childlike, heart-shaped face with the innocent features and the big


brown eyes.




"But you are looking like fifteen!" Vanessa was truly amazed.




"I know. I think, that's why Grand Mistress dotes on me so


incredibly; Her super-sweet little filly." Traces of resignation


could be heard in Michelle's voice.




Cold neon-light flared up, hurting their eyes.




"Quit!", Vanessa hissed.










LOADING ZONE






Grand Mistress Gillian was in stress the whole day. In the early


afternoon She had raced the 80 kilometres from the Heaven's Gate


Exhibition to Her Domicile of Pain in under forty minutes to check


things at home - among other things to make sure that Her tonight's


actresses start off on their journey in a suitable way.


The whole week She had been busy and hadn't left the HGE-area.


First She had prepared Her own presentation (as exhibitors, She and


Her staff had rooms near the fair halls at their disposal), then


had coordinated the supply with fresh flesh for Her shows. She had


to call for replacements till the accumulator of Her cell phone had


been red hot. The first two days of the fair had been mostly


occupied with slave auctions, but the last three traditionally had


seen untold bloodbaths. At least Grand Mistress Gillian had been


able to transact some very advantageously sells and buys at the


slave market.


Now the Grand Finale was near, and the Master promoting the


exhibition had asked Her to be His Mistress of Ceremonies and


furthermore to carry out the penultimate part of the main event.


Grand Mistress Gillian just had the perfect subjects in mind for


this occasion...




She opened the small steel door leading to the platform, followed


by two slavemaids. With strained muscles under stretched skins


carrying lusciously the fading marks of glorious whipping sessions,


Her three beauties half hung, half stood in the hard


neon-brightness. Light covers of fresh, odourless sweat accentuated


their quivering bodys' details.




With an electric hum the outer roller shutter opened to let in a


huge black van with tinted windows. The car, leaded by yellow


markings on the concrete ground, drove backwards up to the


platform's edge, then stopped. Roaring sounds escaped the four


tailpipes, indicating a massively souped up V8-engine. The gate


came back down, and the frightening vehicle was trapped tightly


between roller shutter, platform and right wall.


The left front door opened and the dark-haired driver, one of the


Inferior Mistresses, got out. Her slim body looked mouthwatering in


Her skin-tight black leather skirt, matching jacket and boots. The


young woman approached and jumped onto the platform; a risky


venture wearing five inch heels. She opened the tailgate a bit and


stepped back to let it swing up.




Being last in the file Vanessa saw least of all, but what she saw


let Kate's earlier considerations of escape appear laughable.




From the outside the big car with its huge black rims looked more


or less like a normal Mercedes-Benz Viano. But the bigger engine


and the reinforced drivetrain were the most harmless modifications.


The German van had been transformed into a high-security


transporter. The passenger's sliding doors had been


weld-shut to the car body. Behind the front seats a steel partition


had been installed. A lockable spyhole and a camera informed the


driver about the wellbeing of the involuntary fellow passengers.


Walls, floor and roof were lined with additional steel plates.




Behind the original tailgate a high-grade steel grille came to


light. The Inferior Mistress opened it, too, and the slavemaids


took Michelle from her hook and removed her bounds.


Immediately the cute brunette kneeled down.




"Prepare the next one! I'll do my little darling myself", the Grand


Mistress ordered. She walked towards Her submissive pet, Her


six-inch-heeled stiletto boots clicked cruelly on the concrete.


The gleaming latex of Her black (what else?), ultra-tight cat suit


reflected the neon-light in a diabolical manner.




She saw the 2x3 blue prints of Kate's knees on the brunette's upper


legs.




"What's happened to your thighs, Beauty?"




"Come on, Beauty!", Kate thought bitterly, "tell your Great Fucking


Mistress, you sneak!"




"Your slaves had collided with each other at the end of their rail


transport, Grand Mistress", Michelle answered, being sure the


pounding of her heart was clearly audible outside her body.




"Ooohh, my poor sweetie! But I have a present for you to console my


little pet about its pain. Don't fear your journey to the


exhibition. There only a good friend of mine will take your


measurements for a tailor-made puppy equipment. Do my little pony


like to become a puppygirl occasionally?"




"Oh yes, Grand Mistress!" Michelle was relieved. "Whatever Grand


Mistress wishes!" (Actually the slave liked cats more than dogs.)




Grand Mistress Gillian looked at Kate who just got her right tit


electro-shocked with a cattle prod by the Inferior Mistress for


bitching around. No single black or blue mark on her thighs.


"Collided, three times, with both knees?", She thought, resting Her


eyes on Michelle's youthful body. "Wait, you little liar, you're


already on the list!"




One of the slavemaids had brought in a big box tidily filled with


exquisite bondage gears.




Grand Mistress Gillian took a leather head harness, nothing else


than a bridle, and put it on Her pet's skull. Michelle willingly


opened her mouth to welcome the bit gag as the Grand Mistress


buckled up the degrading accessory and fitted it to the collar. The


metal-decorated straps now ran tightly over the brunette's fine


face, forehead and neck, under her chin and around her head. On


top, a huge black plume, like on the heads of circus horses, rocked


slightly with every motion. Left and right of it, two faked horse


ears stood in the straight upward-forward position that signalled


attention. Two leather-made devices, looking in profile like


blinders, were mounted on the harness. But unlike real blinders,


these gadgets completely took their human victim's vision away.


Through a metal ring, high at the back of the head harness, the


Grand Mistress led most of the girl's long hair to create a wavy


ponytail. She then tightened the sexy face-bondage once more,


forcing the bit gag even deeper into the slavegirl's cute mouth,


bridling Her pony into true submission.




A breast&crotch harness was next, highlighting the slave's curves


without covering the breasts or the genital area, including the


ornamental branding on her mons veneris. The body harness, too, was


connected to the collar and tightened to the edge of brutality.


A moan escaped the slavegirl's gagged lips.


Special knee high leather fetish boots were fitted to her legs. The


extreme form straightened the bridled girl's feet in line with her


lower legs just like in ballet boots. But the soles, starting at


the slave's pointed toes without any heels, had the form of hooves


and were designed to leave horseshoe-like imprints. Indeed real


horseshoes had additionally been fitted.


Grand Mistress Gillian laced them up the way She liked it...TIGHT.




She helped Her mute and blinded pet onto the aching feet and led


her towards the opened van, using the leash chain on the collar.


The brunette's special fetish boots created a hollow sound with


every step, not unlike the tones of shoed hoofs on asphalt.


The floor of the van was nearly at one level with the platform, but


the roof was just about 1.2 metres above them.


"Don't stub your head, honey", the Grand Mistress warned


and protected Her pony with Her gloved hand as the girl


teetered in.




Where the rear passangers' doors had used to be, a polished metal


pole had been mounted in waist high, running from side to side.




The Grand Mistress let Her plaything bend over it with straightened


legs and hooked the collar chain to a ring welded onto the van's


floor. The slave now was nearly bent double.




Willingly the petite girl let her owner fit black latex opera


gloves, with straps dangling down along the sides, to her arms.


When Grand Mistress had buckled all straps, the slave's arms were


bound in front from above the elbows to the wrists - once again


very tightly. They were stretched to the same ring as the collar


chain.




A calf binder, locked to a second ring, trapped her lower legs


effectively...and, sure, tightly.




As a special gift, the Grand Mistress hooked tiny bells on the


brunette's nipple rings, then pressed a running egg-shaped vibrator


deep into the vaginal slit between Her slavegirl's closed legs. The


love passage was already wet due to the intensity of the erotic


bondage session.




"Come how often you want. But don't you dare loose it!" She


whispered into Her pony's ear.




She tenderly parted the girl's bum cheeks to reveal a cute puckered


anal flower. Grand Mistress took Her time to very gently lube up


the tiny, sensitive opening with Her finger, then inserted an two


inches long object. She elicited a long moan between pain and


pleasure from Her slave as Her finger pushed deeper and deeper into


the helpless secret hole.




"This is a ginger horse suppository, darling. It will make you


wiggle your beautiful tail for your Grand Mistress, so everybody


can see what a lovely pony you are. And on the whole journey you


are remained who's loving you."




With this words Grand Mistress Gillian took a rather big butt plug


with a very long ponytail made of the girl's natural auburn hair.


She completed the brunette's transformation by slowly sliding the


bulbed end into the soft, enslaved rectum and securing the plug to


the harness.


 


"Now you are truly a real ponygirl!"




Beauty imitated a high-pitched neigh.




Grand Mistress Gillian turned around and left the van. She had


obviously enjoyed putting Michelle into bondage.


And the next task She would enjoy, too.




Kate was down on her knees, her hands metal-cuffed in front, feet


also bound like before. The slavemaids had forcefully inserted a


heavy inflatable gag into her mouth and buckled the straps running


around her head and under her chin.


The down-taking and gagging of Kate hadn't went as peacefully as


Michelle's. She had fought and swore, and even after she had been


tit- and cunt-shocked repeatedly, the reddish-blonde wasn't


cooperating completely.


Then the Inferior Mistress had started zapping Vanessa's genitals.




Hearing her lover's stifled shrieks, Kate finally had bowed to the


inevitable and led herself be prepared for more pain.




Grand Mistress Gillian examined the extensive collection of nipple


clamps in the Box of Pleasures, then chose a set of saw-toothed


ones with weights and locking screws.


Slowly, to let Her victim experience every nuance of pain, She


tightened the vicious instruments simultaneously on both of Kate's


hardened nipples. With the standard nipple rings still in place,


there wasn't much space left between the serrated jaws. Small


pearls of blood appeared, sensually contrasting with skin and


metal.




Kate pressed her breath sharply through the nose, but didn't utter


another sound.




Nevertheless Grand Mistress Gillian knew that it hurt terribly.




"Tough bitch, I have to admit", She thought.




Kate had been the only one ever who had really attacked Her, and


that was past her phase of enslavement which normally should left


the slaves broken.


Of course, sometimes wilder ones among newly arrived fresh-meat


gave Her names, spat on Her or tried to kick Her, but all learned


proper behaviour fast.


The sporty blonde, however, had waited month for the right moment.


No "I scratch out your eyes"-girlfight but hard kick-box punches.


Grand Mistress Gillian finally had knocked her out, but this whore


had even managed to bite Her!


That was now ten month ago and the Grand Mistress wasn't nearly


through with her yet.




"Tough bitches need special attention."




A simple hand pump was dangling on a rubber hose at the gag.


The Grand Mistress grabbed it and gave Kate a squeeze.




"Bitch."




The rubber bulb in the slave's mouth extended a bit.




She pumped it up some more.




"Whore."




The gag forced Kate's jaws open wider, now creating real pain.


Furthermore the expanding bulb effectively prevented breathing


through the mouth.




Another rush of air followed.




"Slut."




The merciless wall of rubber tried to crush the blonde's tongue and


pressed against her front teeth. Still the kneeling woman even


refused to groan, but now the pain was evident in her face.


Her mouth was opened unnaturally wide and the first cracking sounds


could be heard from her joints.




Grand Mistress Gillian made it last long. Waiting half a minute,


She studied the hate in Kate's eyes, then inflated the awful gag


further.




"Cunt."




A long, agonised moan escaped the kneeling woman's throat. but


didn't find any resonating cavity in her over-stuffed orifice.




"Please stop!", Vanessa yelled and immediately received a shock from the Inferior Mistress.




"Thank you, my dear", the Grand Mistress said to Her female


paladin, then devoted Herself again to Kate's suffering.




"Another one? Yes? Okay."




She had to press quite strongly now.




"Ungrateful scum-hole"




The gag had alarmingly grown in size, pressing hard against the


back of Kate's mouth, making her want to retch.


The limits of her oral capacity had been reached.


Underneath the look of hate fear became visible, and the woman


lifted her bound hands towards the rubber hose.




"Hold her!"




The slavemaids grabbed her at shoulders and arms, the Inferior


Mistress positioned Herself behind the slave, holding Her beloved


cattle prod.




Cold sweat appeared on Kate's skin, her hot breath let the metal


surface of the nose ring piercing her septum steam up.




The Grand Mistress pleasurably pressed more air into the bulb,


parting the aching jaws to their anatomical maximum.




Now even breathing through her nose was hard for Kate.


True panic rose and she started to struggle and wriggle in earnest.




Once more, Grand Mistress Gillian's latex-gloved hand closed to a


fist around the pump.




With a dull, wet sound Kate's lower jaw dislocated, first the right


side, immediately followed by the left. The slave howled.


Grand Mistress Gillian gave her three more squeezes until She


stopped.




"Into the van with her!" The Grand Mistress tightened the clamps


once more, brutalising the nipple flesh till pearls of blood


appeared between the metal jaws.




The two slavemaids disconnected the pump and dragged the


pain-weakened blonde away.




In the van Michelle/Beauty was groaning into her gag as the hot


suppository had started to melt in her anal tract.


Kate was sat behind her on the ground, facing the brunette's cute,


tail-wiggling arse. Slavemaid One blindfolded Kate, slavemaid Two


passed a short metal bar under her knee hollows and over the bound


arms, then hooked cables running to a mechanism in the van's roof


to the rings at each end.


The mechanism hummed for some seconds, drowned out by Kate's


guttural sounds, then the slavemaids left the van, glad not to have


a place in there, too.




Grand Mistress Gillian stepped in the van once more and She liked


what She saw there: The torture-gagged bitch was obviously in even


more pain than before, hanging upside down on the Parrot's Perch.


Her medium-long hair was spread on the floor, but her head dangled


freely like her squirming body.




Grand Mistress Gillian set the tip of Her boot to the pumped up gag


between Her slave's stretched lips and gave Kate a strong push.


Rocking slightly forwards and backwards on the metal bar, the


blonde tried hard to scream through her useless mouth.




"There's something else I want you to enjoy during your ride."




The Grand Mistress forcefully dry-rammed a metal device into the


hanging woman's defenceless arse.




"That's a soldering iron...", She informed, found a car's


12V-socket and plugged it in. Immediately the iron started to head


up. Kate panted in known horror.




"Don't panic, there is a possibility to switch it off. The switch


is built as a push button inside a...what is it called? Come on,


help me with that word! I know you have it on the tip of your


tongue...Rubber bulb! Yes, that's it!" (Very weak pun, Gillian!)


"However, you have to squeeze it to cut out the current, and you


have to hold it squeezed, of course. Since the cable is to short to


reach your hand, we have to switch to your whorish cunt."




With no hurry She generously lubricated Kate's lovehole


knowing exactly that the lube would make it far more difficult for


that bitch to hold the bulb in a pressed position.




Meanwhile the iron's tip, resting deep in the colon's last bend,


had become unbearably hot. Kate's moans turned more and more into


cruelly muffled screams.




"Keep still, slut!" Grand Mistress Gillian pretended having


difficulties to guide the bulb into Kate's slit, then finally pushed it in with two fingers.




Instantly the anally burning slave clenched her vaginal muscles


fiercely, switching off the iron but grabbing Grand Mistress


Gillian's fingers, too.




"You are indeed a greedy little whore!"




The Grand Mistress pulled Her fingers away. They popped out with a


wet, vulgar sound.




Vanessa's face was moist with tears when the slavemaids released


her from her hook. Watching her lover getting electro-shocked and


mouth-tortured had made her suffer just like corporal pain.


The screams coming out of the van had told her everything, though


the Grand Mistress' enviable body had blocked her view.




Now it was her turn. One of the slavemaids removed her collar, the


handcuffs and the ankle chains. Vanessa hesitated a moment, then


got on her knees willingly. She had to save her strength.


The second slavemaid brought some interesting devices which made


the beautiful Italian groan in despair.




Again the clicking of high heels on concrete - then the Grand


Mistress stood in front of her.




"I bet you can't wait to join your companions, right, slavegirl?"




"Yes, Grand Mistress. This slave is ready to take whatever its


Grand Mistress gives to it." The girl's voice was weak and thin.




"We'll see." Grand Mistress Gillian let Vanessa's long blonde hair


flow through Her gloved hands.


"We'll see..."




With a quick, unexpected motion She had made a ponytail, plaiting a


strong, thin rope into it. She tugged at it a few times and Vanessa


let out a short scream, moving her head backwards with every jerk.


The mass of hair knotted to the rope gave her no other chance.




The Grand Mistress let go of the girl's hair for the moment.




"Lie down. On your belly."




Vanessa obeyed, just to feel her arms being painfully laced


together with wetted leather ties, hands to elbows.


The slavemaids buckled strange, heavy metal devices to her naked


heels. More leather, wider, but as wet as the thinner ties, were


wound around her ankles, then used to pull her feet to her


buttocks. Now the blonde slave could tell what these cold gadgets


on her heels were:




"Spurs!...I guess this things are normally used by Grand Mistress


to discipline Michelle, Yee-Haw", she thought with gallows humour.




A spreader bar was placed and fixed into her knee hollows to hold


her knees wide apart. Now there was no chance for her to turn


herself to her side.


The ankle ties were then tightly secured around Vanessa's upper


thighs, forcing her spur-bearing heels deep into her arse cheeks.


Formed similar to little gearwheels, the multi-teethed discs


weren't just piercing the slave's soft skin but were eating into


the full flesh with every motion like sawblades. An ideal,


automatic long-time torture that will get a tiny bit worse with


every breath. Not to mention cramping leg muscles, the car's rapid


manoeuvres, hidden potholes...




Again wet leather, this time from her big toes to her arm bindings.


Vanessa was panting, her firm breasts flattened by her body weight,


her nipple rings stamped into the aureoles.




In her hogtied/frogtied position the tall blonde had to hold up her


head by straining neck muscles to see what was happening next.


But Grand Mistress Gillian was already taking measures to fix that


problem.


The large metal device in Her hands was called an arse hook, in


this version fitted with a 2-inch-sphere at the end instead of a


simple rounded tip. She lowered it to the girl's face.




"Lick it!"




Vanessa reached out her tongue to lubricate the metal ball, but


after only two licks the Grand Mistress pulled the hook away.




"That's wet enough for you, cunt!"




Insufficiently prepared, the sphere pressed against the Italian's


rectum, parting the petals of her unwilling rosette, trying to take


them with it. So the hook started its painful journey into the


anal darkness of the unprotected passage, loosing its poor


lubrication on the first few centimetres.




Grand Mistress Gillian didn't stop this unnatural insertion until


the globular tip was resting all dry at the far end of the girl's


ampulla recti. Now the hook's bend was fully embedded between


Vanessa's shapely bum cheeks with the second, ringed end laying in


the small of her back.


Smiling about the whimpers the nasty inversion had elicited from


the young, bound female the Grand Mistress took hold of the


hair-rope and yanked the slave's head sharply back.




Further and further Vanessa had to bend her head backwards. She


arched her back into a painful bow. Her scalp burned like fire, her


mouth opened automatically due to the strain. Then she felt the


Grand Mistress running the rope through the hook's eye. Now her


arse was attacked, too. The spherical metal in it followed the


outer force, finding the entrance to Vanessa's colon and sliding


even deeper into her body. The hook's bend crushed her arse cleft


as every single hair of the blonde's long mane was turned into a


red hot torture instrument. The front of her neck was stretched


tightly and her larynx was pressed deep into its place. The strain


increased once more, now the hook tilted, the inner end pressed


downward, trying to rip through the belly. Vanessa's screams found


a straight line from her lungs, through her windpipe, out of her


mouth.




Grand Mistress Gillian knotted the rope which was now taut like a


string chord.




Vanessa tried to avoid any motion, but just moments later severe


cramps in her back and legs announced themselves.


Suffering from her hardened muscles, she saw the Grand Mistress'


boots in front of her again. The sadistic redhead bent down to her


and showed her a obscenely long rubber dildo.




"Open wide!"




Vanessa knew much better than to refuse. She took the first two


inches rather easily, but then she started to choke. With all might


the blonde slavegirl fought back her gag reflex and allowed the


monstrous toy to penetrate her pharynx. The dildo pressed hard


against her uvula, then pushed itself past her tonsils and into her


oesophagus. Deeper it went, beyond the point where the windpipe


branched off. Grand Mistress Gillian gave her an additional two


inches, then pulled out the dildo an inch again to re-open the


girl's epiglottis. Performing a permanent deep-throating, Vanessa's


only protection against death by suffocation were small channels


running lengthwise and radially through the phallus. Hectically she


gasped for breath, but then forced herself to calm down, reducing


her need for oxygen. She consumed the essential element in tiny


bits, every breath a silent battle against panic and rubber.




"Be thankful that it's not a spiked one!"




Holding herself in a state between gagging and swallowing,


Vanessa's options to express her gratitude were limited.




One channel, running lengthwise through the rubber cock's middle


from one end to the other, was separated and with no radial holes.


So this one wasn't for breathing, but nevertheless Grand Mistress


Gillian had use for it. She plugged a clear plastic tube to the


dildo's base sticking out of the stretched mouth. Then She


competently inserted the evil-looking catheter on the tube's other


end through Vanessa's urethra into her full bladder, adding another


source of pain to the Italian's body. The new intruder caused an


even sicker feeling than the anal hook. Immediately a yellow stream


of urine could be seen trough the tube's clear material, rising


pressurised from its origin, over her back and into her synthetic


mouth-lover, moistening her throat.


Just for good measures, the Grand Mistress stuffed the hogtied


girl's vagina with a short but thick rubber plug, coated with


undefinable stuff. Grand Mistress Gillian often liked to spice up


the lube used on Her toys. Over the time, Vanessa had learned to


differentiate the various mixtures, almost tasting the "secret


ingredients" with her nether openings: Tabasco, Chile powder, even


pure capsaicine...


Today the Grand Mistress was in a gentle mood: black pepper.


The plug's tight fit pressed the burning material deep into the


delicate membranes, forcing the tissues against arse hook and


catheter. Vanessa screamed anew.




"No blindfold for that one. Let her see her lover suffer."




The slavemaids placed the sobbing blonde on the van's floor, so her


face was only centimetres away from the left inner wall, her knees


just touching the right. This action ripped some hairs and some


muscle fibres but at least the girl was quickly stowed away.


Catheterised, arse-hooked, froggie-hoggie, orally dildo-gag-raped,


forcefully piss-fed; Vanessa couldn't complain.


Half bending, half turning her head to her right until the extra


pain got too much, she could see Kate in the corner of her eye,


centimetres away. The dangling woman was suffering, too.




Grand Mistress Gillian was satisfied: all nine slave-holes plugged,


ten with the teenager's urethra.


She gave a signal to the Inferior Mistress and the younger one


closed first the grille, then the outer tailgate.




"Hurry", the Grand Mistress commanded, "I'll follow soon."




"Yes, Grand Mistress", the younger, leather-clothed woman answered.


Seconds later the roller shutter opened remote-controlled and the


van's engine started anew.


The journey began.








ON ROAD






Inside the horrible vehicle it was absolutely dark. No lamps, and


the original windows had no correspondence in the inner steel


walls. The blindfolding of her two companions had just


psychological reasons. But soon Vanessa discovered that not being


blindfolded was no mercy at all. Sensing the wall centimetres in


front of her face, she tried in vain to focus her eyes on a point


in the darkness. This and the constant paining of her scalp quickly


created a nasty headache. But she also couldn't keep herself


from vainly searching for Kate's form in the dark every time her


lover's metal shackles rattled or the hanging woman's body touched


her own. From the front of the mobile prison Michelle's nipple


bells rang sweetly with every bump.




But already after some minutes other sensations took Vanessa's


attention. Her position, formerly painful, threatened to turn into


pure agony. Muscles she didn't even know having cramped horribly.


The car's vibrations worked her spurs slowly deeper and deeper into


her flesh till tiny rivers of blood were forced out of her bottom


cheeks. That wasn't all: from experience Vanessa knew the wet


leather's unpleasant characteristic of contracting while drying.


And she wasn't getting disappointed. Slowly, mercilessly, the


leather sliced its way into her soft body. The Italian tried to


control her breathing, to hold it steady and even.




Please don't vomit!




If she threw up, she would suffocate, that was for sure. And


because the dildo gag wasn't bad enough, the acid taste of her


bladder had crept out of her pharynx into mouth and nose, during


the pepper was spicing her body's far end. The burning sensation


was overwhelming now.




But she wasn't the only slave in pain. Nasal, wheezing sounds came


from Michelle, mixed with gagged moans due to the suppository


taking effect. The petite brunette struggled in her bounds and


sexily wiggled her bottom, but despite all her jerking and pushing


she couldn't get rid of the chemical heat because of the arse plug


locked tightly in her firm, little bum.


At least the indefatigable vibrator donated her sweet, draining


orgasms in regular intervals.




Behind her, Kate was in real agony. Due to the long-lasting upside


down position blood was pulsating in the blonde's head with the


force of a sledgehammer.  Her dislocated jaw ached beyond believe


from the large inflated sphere plugging her overstretched mouth.


She had to fight for every breath with her air supply almost


completely shut off. Her abdominal muscles hurt and cramped when


contracting to hold the soldering iron in her rectum switched off.


In shorter and shorter intervals the ripping pain forced Kate to


relax her vagina. Soon the iron wouldn't cool down fully between


the pauses. She knew what that mean - from former experiences and


from fresh memories when she had let her quivering love channel


rest too long.


Slow anal burning was one of Grand Mistress Gillian's favourite


tortures. And Kate was one of Grand Mistress Gillian's favourite


torture toys. The blonde never had taken shit from no one, and that


made it easily for her to get into trouble. It had been impossible


for her to accept her enslavement, and so she had waited just for


the right moment for escape and revenge...and had failed.




Again the rising heat in her rectal tract became unbearable and the


pain-gagged slave clenched her vaginal muscles, exchanging one


agony for another. Too late. The soldering iron was cut off, but


still emitted heat and gave Kate the first of many serious burns.  A


miserable scream gurgled out of her mouth's destroyed mechanism.




Vanessa could hear her lover's sounds of terrible agony, and this


only increase her own ordeal. Every movement of the van echoed in


her straining body. Now the leather was cutting deep into her and


her feet and lower arms had become numb and dark red. The pain of


the bondage being undone would be horrible!


Eventually her overstressed nerves gave up, the burning in her


vagina dulled to a tingling sensation, and Vanessa's ability to


form thoughts wasn't totally crushed by suffering any more.


So she started a poor try to escape her multiple tortures, letting


her mind drift away.




Where are we taken to? - No! Better don't think about that!




WHERE are we?




Vanessa had been abducted in the bright daylight, from the open


street. With no advance warning. She never had visited adult book


stores or sex shops or even internet porn sites. She hadn't talked


to strangers in chatrooms and never had spot a stalker.


She didn't care about BDSM or the odd pony play Michelle was into


(she knew Kate had liked kinky stuff, but this was over now, for


sure, too).


A beautiful, sunny day in Milan was her last memory of freedom.


Her captivity had taken many month, but still she didn't even know


the country she was in. She had heard numerous languages being


spoken in the slave camp, both from slavegirls and Mistresses.


The weather was mostly cloudy and rainy, some sun, some snow. Not


the Mediterranean warmth she had enjoyed during the summer month, or the fresh breeze in the mild-sunned vineyards along the Mosel river when visiting her German mother's family. A sole tear found its way over her strained face.


From the climate she guessed here weren't high mountains or an


ocean nearby. Maybe North America or Continental Europe. She didn't


recognised the van's number plate, but the car seemed to be left


hand driven. And it seemed to slacken speed...




Indeed the van got constantly slower.




Behind her, at the car's right side, Vanessa could more feel than


hear the crunch of the street's shoulder. The van stopped.




The blonde girl tried to listen, fading out the sounds of the other


two slaves. The van's holding cell was more or less soundproofed,


but pressing her forehead against the cold steel, she believed to


sense the vibration of human voices.


But they couldn't be at their destination, not after maybe fifteen


minutes! Why had the Inferior Mistress stopped. Apparently to talk


to someone, on the road.


The realisation hit her like a white hot lightning and she almost


swallowed the phallus gagging her.


They had been stopped by the police! The Grand Mistress had said


"Hurry" and this dumb bitch had been too fast and now a patrol car


had stopped them and FREEDOM WAS NEAR!




Because Vanessa wasn’t born as a slave, she knew the meaning of freedom and escape. Ignoring the legions of newly awakening pains in her body she started to struggle and wriggle in her strict bondage. She mmpfhed and grmmpfhed through her gag like a mad-woman, not caring about the danger of vomiting or the damage the dildo caused in her throat. She didn't know if she could be heard outside, but the heavy van rocked in its suspension like a ship in a typhoon.




Something was happening! She sensed it! She knew it!




The tailgate swung up, bright sunlight fell through the bars, and


there stood two police men! Knights in shining armours, ready to


rescue the virgin princesses kidnapped by the fiery dragon!


They wore dark uniforms and had parked their car, coloured in an


never seen design, behind the Mercedes-Benz. Real police! Vanessa


didn't care which country they were from. Police!




Both police men uttered sounds of absolute disbelief. In front of


them were three naked beauties in hottest bondage, sexily moaning,


groaning and screaming into their gags!


Their hands wandered to their holstered weapons.




"WHAT'S THAT ?!" the first asked, his English carrying an accent


unknown to Vanessa. The Inferior Mistress, now standing next to


them, was obviously nervous, but didn't seem to lose Her head.




But before She could even answer, a third car arrived - a black


coupé, stopping behind the patrol car. The cruel clicking of


extreme high heels on asphalt reached into the opened van.


Grand Mistress Gillian's fire-red hair glowed in the warm daylight,


contrasting with Her fair skin and dark sunglasses.


At the sight of Her, Vanessa's heart missed a beat, her skin went


white and cold, like in shock.




"No. Oh, please, NOOO!" These words pumping in her skull, letting


her vision blur.




But then, surmounting her mind's first reaction, she realised the


meaning of the scene! Euphoria, close to hysteria washed away any


pain that her car-rocking had created:




"Yeah, join us, BITCH! I hope they'll perform the Rodney-King-show


on Your arse!"




The first police man shouted at Her in his mother tongue, most


likely telling Her to drive away.




Now the Grand Mistress had arrived at the two men and one woman


behind the van, Her body language signalled pure domination.




She was in a sinfully tight anthracite woman's business suit, but


Her gloved hands indicated that She was wearing one of Her latex


body cat suits underneath.




Grand Mistress Gillian talked to the wildly gesticulating police


man, obviously in the country's language. At first he was shouting


and yelling, pointing with one hand into the Viano while letting


the other rest on his pistol. His colleague unsurely observed the


whole scene, his weapon ready, too, not knowing if he had to call


reinforcement. Police man One talked much less loudly now, and


though Vanessa couldn't hear him or see his face, she realised that


things went south. Finally he pensively went to the second police


man and talked to him. visibly Number Two became even more


bewildered.




During this Grand Mistress Gillian had relaxed Her posture and


leaned against the police car's front, half sitting on the bonnet.


Vanessa could see Her in the corner of her left eye, could see Her


smile She was giving Her slavegirl. A smile, cold and cruel and


knowing.




Then the unthinkable happened. The police men came to a conclusion.


Trying to avoid any eye contact with his new Grand Mistress, Number


Two hurried to the patrol car's front-passenger seat.


The first one walked back to Grand Mistress Gillian, talked to Her


for a few moments..and then submissively took Her gloved fingers


for a kiss on the hand!




Vanessa felt loosing her grip on sanity.


It can't be! IT JUST CAN'T BE! WE ARE HERE!


Doesn't anybody see what's going on in this word gone crazy?!




"HLLP! HLLPPPP!", she managed to form around the mouth-dildo, but


the police men, just some metres away, opened the driver's door and


got into the car. His face was pale and his eyes searched a point


in the infinity.




The Grand Mistress rose from the bonnet and didn't even cast


another look at the two, just kept fixing Her tall, blonde,


rebellious slave. The engine started, and the car with both police


men left.




Vanessa saw in her vision's periphery the sadistic woman


approaching, and fresh urine found its way into her oesophagus.


Even without the catheter inside she couldn't had held back the


flow.




Grand Mistress Gillian watched the bound beauty from behind the


bars, noticing the yellow stream running through the clear plastic


tube on her back.




"You have a loose tongue, fuck-mouth!"




That's what She said, and nothing more!




She throw the tailgate into its lock, leaving Vanessa alone with


her body suffering in pain and her mind tortured by desperation.




The Grand Mistress talked to Her younger assistant, let Her


describe what had happened. She told Her to better observe the speed limit for the rest of the journey and gave Her some other renewed instructions. Then the Grand Mistress got in Her Jaguar, restarted the engine and kick-down'd the accelerator. With a supercharged whirr the dark XKR shot past the horror van, which speeded up some moments later, too.




Inside the British coupé, Grand Mistress Gillian was glad having


chosen a business suit to wear over Her fetish outfit.




'Serious appearance is a key element in an official talk.'




Of course She hadn't expected to be plagued with the police.


Actually She had put on the office dress so the latex of Her cat


suit wouldn't get in contact with the leather seat. Else both


materials would stick to each other, and that would be unerotically


uncomfortable on a long drive.




When the slavegirls had been loaded and the van had left Her Temple


of Torture, the Grand Mistress had taken a short shower.


Then She had dressed in fresh clothes before heading back to the


exhibition centre by Her Black Jag, whose V8 had been still warm


from the ride earlier that day.


Strictly speaking, the Jaguar wasn't completely black:


Bonnet, roof, wings and doors carried an extravagant airbrush, all


anthracite and gun-metal silver, ghostly standing out against the


metallic black base. Only with the light in the right angle


surreal torture scenes, like visions of H. R. Giger, appeared in


the paint. For the normal viewer this was a fantasy artwork of


fascinating morbidity. But for those in the know it was an


unmistakable signal of forbidden pleasures.




Grand Mistress Gillian LOVED this car, a 2005 model year XKR


R-Performance Coupé; the last one that looked good.


It was tongue-bathed by slavegirls after every spin, including the


20"-BBS alloy rims, the tires along with the tread, and the insides


of all four tailpipes. Although addicted to be in control of


everything, the Grand Mistress even liked the automatic gear box


because She couldn't operate a clutch in such extreme high heels.




Still 60 kilometres to go. Time for a little sprint. She flashed up


the main beam and under the supercharger's howl the Jag heaved


itself past the 200 km/h mark. She loved this car!




The sun stood low in the west as the black van entered the


outskirts of the old industrial area. Ignoring the detour signs on


both sides, Inferior Mistress Zoë followed the road's original


direction through single ruins pulled down long ago and unused


buildings with hollow window openings. Eventually the van stopped;


barriers and beacons on both lanes signalled road works.


One of those little excavators stood by the side of the road


between heaps of sand and gravel. Construction workers were running


busily through the scene. One of them, carrying a clipboard,


appeared at the driver's window. He greeted, tapping nonchalantly


on his yellow helmet.



"Sorry, ma'am, you've to turn around. We've a pipe burst here", he


rasped with a grin, knowing about the van.




"Oh, is that really necessary? I've loaded perishables."


The Inferior Mistress pretended to be distressed and noticed that


the "workers" had slowed down again.




"Do you have many unannounced visitors here?", She asked.




"Not a single one since I'm on duty. This place is godforsaken.


You've papers for me?"




She handed over some documents.




Yellow-helmet checked them, then made a note on his clipboard.


"All right. By the way, your boss came through twenty minutes ago."


He gave back the papers.




"Have fun!" He again tapped on his helmet.




"I will."




The alleged construction worker whistled, and some of his


colleagues cleared the road from the barriers.




The outskirts had been formed by buildings standing mostly alone or


in loose formations, but the area's centre turned out to be a


labyrinth with vast amounts of storehouses and shops. The dirty red


of brick walls, broken by ugly concrete-grey, thronged all around


the road. Bedraggled shanties leaned against factories overgrown by


dead ivy. The oldest buildings had to be from the age of


industrialisation, and above all of them a unknown number of


chimneys, funnels and water towers rose into the dusk. It took the


Inferior Mistress another ten minutes and some looks at Her map to


find the way.


Under an archway, more like a tunnel, another checkpoint have been


set up. This time the van was controlled by armed guards in black,


then was allowed to move into a large storehouse.




She had had enough time to get rid of Her business dress, and now


the Grand Mistress welcomed Her exquisite load in the clothing that


was due to Her.


In the storehouse Inferior Mistress Zoë had parked the van at its


designated place and opened the tailgate and the grille.




The pains in her muscles and scalp were cruel, but after the


incident with the police Vanessa had been in some kind of


paralysis. She hardly noticed Grand Mistress Gillian freeing her


from her bondage. Like a lightning pure agony raced through her


body, ripping her out of her trance, as fresh blood shot into 


her stiff limbs. The awful pepper plug and the oral dildo, the


catheter, the spreader bar and all leather ties were removed, but


the arse hook stayed in place. The blonde was pulled out of the van


and took some wobbly steps, feeling the cold floor under her bare


feet. The hook turned itself repulsively in her rectum so the eyed


end was now dangling between her quivering legs.




The Grand Mistress collared the Italian again: "Don't let the hook


come out, slut!"




"Yes, Grand Mistress", Vanessa managed to croak.




Meanwhile the Inferior Mistress brought Kate, who was freed from


all but her collar, the nipple clamps and the horrible gag. The two


slave's collars were chained together while Grand Mistress Gillian


disappeared to get Michelle.


Vanessa looked around, searching for any sight of hope.


The storehouse was huge, maybe 30 by 100 metres. Along this wall 


the slave transporters seemed to be parked, side by side. Most of


them were rather inconspicuously; normal delivery vans or discrete


estate cars, all in muted colours. But some dozen metres ahead


someone hadn't been so reserved: two women in martial black latex


uniforms were unloading a dark Porsche Cayenne turbo. Like most


seventeen-year-old girls Vanessa didn't know much about cars nor


was she interested in, but she was sure that none of these vehicles


had left factory with two by two boxes similar to those body


freezers in a morgue instead of rear passenger seats and luggage


space. Through the tailgate, each box was opened like a drawer, and


on each bier lay a slavegirl in foetal position. The one who had


incarcerated them hadn't been so imaginative as the Grand Mistress.


All four girls wore handcuffs and ankle irons with hobble chains.


Another longer chain ran between the hand and foot bondage. Chastity belts and red ball gags completed the outfits. They were led under unnecessary whip lashes through a door in the near wall and out of the hall.


Vanessa swallowed hard, her swollen throat ached. This scene had


driven her deeper into desperation. But as she looked up to the


storehouse's other side, powerless rage flared up in her for some


moments. There stood, again side by side, the cars of the


slave-owners: everything German, British, Italian and French


motorcar nobility had to offer, reinforced by cool accents of


Scandinavian design, American power and Japanese technology.


Dead objects, paid by the pain, the blood and the grief of innocent girls. Vanessa turned away with an embittered look in her eyes.


To run organisations for sexual slavery seemed to be a lucrative


activity!




Standing in a pool of sweet-smelling cunt juice, Beauty awaited her


owner. She was continuously wiggling her tail; the suppository had


molten away some time ago, but her tender rectum still housed the


deep-burning sensation. Grand Mistress Gillian caressed the girl's


buttocks for a moment, then slid Her hand between Michelle's legs.




"Having fun, Little One?"




She rubbed Her slave's slippery vulva, sensing the high-frequency


vibrations of the vaginal egg.




"Out it goes."




With a long, lustful moan Michelle let the vibrator easily glide


out of her hot body into the Grand Mistress' hand. The redheaded


woman put it away, then loosen the straps of the tight opera


gloves, just to refasten them on Her pony's back again.


She unhooked the collar chain and removed Michelle's


blinders/blindfold, but let everything else of the girl's fetish


outfit in place. The brunette was led out of the van and took  some


faltered steps to the two other slaves. Soon all three were chained


together again.


Grand Mistress Gillian gave Her Beauty a tug.




"Let's go."




The slaves started to move, followed by the Inferior Mistress.


Again Michelle made hoof sounds, still with wobbling steps, her


legs tired. The nipple bells rang rhythmically. Kate behind her had


far worse problems to walk. More than the strict suspension she had


been in, the severe burns in her rectum made every movement


agonising. Vanessa had a hard time holding the paining hook up her


arse. With every step it screwed and bobbed and worked in her


rectum, then slid out to the point where only the metal ball was


inside her orifice. Now her poor, sore rosette had to carry the


whole weight.


Instead of using the door through which the four ball-gagged slaves


had been disappeared, the Grand Mistress led Her property to the


far front side of the storehouse. There stood, rear to the brick


wall and separated from the others, three more cars, obviously


vehicles of high-ranking persons. All were black, but one seemed to


have ghostly graphics in its paintwork, gleaming in the building's


weak lighting. Vanessa recognised in passing the Jaguar emblem


on the still hot bonnet, but didn't care.


Near the VIP car park was an exit and cool, fresh air poured inside


as the heavy doorwings opened automatically.




Vanessa was surprised that the night had already started to fall.


First stars had become visible in the darkened sky, but the whole


horizon behind the main building glowed in cruel orange.


Violet shreds of torn clouds seemed to melt in the dying sun's


fire while a column of black smoke was promulgating the work of a


nearby crematory.




They crossed a huge, wall-surrounded yard, following a street or


drive that led them towards a colossal turbine house. Being built in the industrial design of the early 20th century, it rose frightening against the western sky.


In this area were no guards, just some fair visitors here and there


which got some fresh air, not caring about the weak, but clearly


noticeable smell. A light wind came from the east and took most of


the crematory's smoke with it.




Grand Mistress Gillian was greeted by every single guest with


highest respect.




"With you I would normally use one of the side entrances, but they


are all crowd, mostly with replacement meat. So you are receiving


the undeserved honour to enter through the main gate.


Of course, you will pay with pain for that later."




"These unworthy slaves thank their Grand Mistress", Vanessa


uttered, acting for all three.




The closer they came to the main entrance area, the better Vanessa


could make out the scenery. The seventeen-year-old was more worried


than ever. Till now she had thought (better say: hoped) of this


fair as some kind of perverted tupper-ware party: whip producers


were presenting their summer collection, maybe with a bound


slavegirl draped at the stand so the prospective buyers could test the new products on her back. But what she saw told her in utmost


cruelty that her ideas had been far from reality.




On the last twenty metres the way was flanked by twelve wooden


crosses; six on the left side were facing six on the right. And


each was carrying the pain-flooded body of a slavegirl. The poor


victims had been nailed (historically not fully correctly) through


palms and soles. At least the coarse nails had been driven into the


flesh at a special angle to avoid contact with bones or medianus


nerves. This was saved for TRUE punishment.


Apart from the four rough irons only ropes around the upper arms


and a small ledge under their maltreated feet took the slave's


weight. Each girl had been crucified at dawn, replacing the


predecessor from the last day & night. Without the ledges they


could never manage to hold up their ribcages to keep on breathing


for 24 hours. Nevertheless every breath took extreme efforts, their


lungs seemed trying to slide into the girl's viscera. All twelve


girls had stopped screaming long ago, not due to the lack of pain


but due to the lack of oxygen. And still more than 9 horrible hours


to go...




Grand Mistress guided Her retinue into the Lane of Crosses.


Now, with the rising darkness, an additional attraction was shown


to advantage. At the crosses' bases fires had been lighted to


illuminate the gruesome scenery. Under the crucified girl's feet


concave heat shields run inconspicuously around the heat-proofed


beams, so the girls wouldn't burn slowly to death. Nevertheless


the hot air waved up to their cramping bodies, adding itself to


their sufferings.




Michelle turned her eyes away, shunning the sight, while Kate


sought every detail with a hardened face. This was the lowest level


of cruelty she'd expected. Eventually Vanessa had to pass by the


first two crosses. She felt sick confronted with this exhibition of


slow agony.




Leaving the crosses behind, they approached the main entrance: not


a normal door but a huge portal with stone steps in front.


To the left and right of the steps ashlars served as pedestals


for two motionlessly cowered naked slavegirls. Held by heavy,


mediaeval-looking chains, they rest on their knees and elbows.


Their heads where forced backwards in the same manner Vanessa had


been introduced to during her ride. With their smooth, black hair


bound to the arse-hooks the slaves had to look straight forwards.


Both seemed to be very young but fully developed and both were


adorned with a full body-painting in a dark, marbled grey. They


were draped just like these statues in Europe, on old bridges'


parapet and wall ends or in front of palaces. No gargoyles, but


stony gate keeper in form of lying or sitting lions or fabulous


creatures.


The closer Vanessa was forced to get the more of the odd details


she made out at the girls: contact lenses gave them yellow


reptile's eyes. Large ring-gags held their mouth open permanently


and disclosed deeply split tongues and sharpened teeth filed to


pointed fangs. Semen indicating recent oral rapes ran from the


corners of their mouths like slaver. Black lips and heavy eye


shadow created sharp contrasts to the anthracite face colour,


additional dark make-up let the cheek bones stand out dramatically.




The effect was amazing. In the unsteady, mysteriously flickering


light of the flames the two girls indeed looked like made of stone;


sculptures of enchained and enslaved succubi.




The Grand Mistress dragged Her slaves up the steps and spoke to


Kate and Vanessa:




"What's up? Thinking about girl-girl-action with such tongues and


teeth? Maybe I'll give both of you these modifications, just for


your pleasure, of course."




Again it was Vanessa who answered for them:




"Anything Grand Mistress wishes."




The Italian girl was highly shattered and had at more than one time


nearly lost her grip on the evil hook in her behind.


One thing was for sure now:


this was no stylish inner city SM-In-club where bored, hip yuppies


got a little bit kinky - this was REAL!




All five entered the building with Grand Mistress Gillian


mercilessly pulling at the chain while the horizon was turning its


colour into blood red.




Actually there were two portals, one after another. The first led


them into some kind of vestibule with only a huge antique counter


on the right as single equipment. Behind this furniture a petite


young woman stood, not older than twenty and with a sweet smile on


her pretty face. She was the same type of girl as Michelle. Though


not so stunning beautiful as the long-haired slavegirl, she was


doubtless attractive; like the nice, innocent girl next door. So


you didn't expect her wearing such a kinky outfit - not that it


didn't look good on her! The long, almost elegant dress made of


shiny black rubber and fitted with a noble corset was clearly a


Mistress' outfit, but around her neck she bore a heavy leather


slave-collar. Due to this combination Vanessa wasn't sure of the


woman's status.




The receptionist welcomed the Mistresses and let Them sign in,


handing first Grand Mistress Gillian, then Inferior Mistress Zoë an


electronic writing pad similar to the boards couriers had.




That had been the last hurdle. By pushing a hidden button, the


receptionist opened the inner portal. She smiled her sweet smile,


the same she had greeted her neighbours this morning with:




"Welcome to our church where we pray to pain!"








HEAVEN'S GATE






The turbine house's interior was a hall of titanic dimensions.


The ancient turbines and generators were still resting in their


positions, but between their foundations all forms of abnormities


took place, behind every corner unspeakable monstrosities mocked at


humanity in the worst ways imaginable.


Racking, stretching, pain-bondage.


Piercing, branding, water sports;


you name it, you'll find it.


Slavegirls got fucked with rotating wire brushes, had their nipples


slow-cooked and their bodies flayed with burning whips.


Women were twelve months pregnant with boiling enemas.


Flesh showed all degrees of destruction:


beaten, strapped, switched, birched, caned, tawsed, lashed,


whipped, cropped, flogged, flagellated, castigated, scourged.


Slavemaids regularly sprayed the different areas with water from


high-pressure hoses, washing away gallons of blood into drains. A


powerful ventilation system took the different smells of sweat, 


urine and other body wastes out and left only the musky odour of


leather and the sweet, light scents of blood and fear inside the


complex.


Hell and paradise had never before come so close to each other.




The very first impression that hit Vanessa was the screaming.


A cacophony of agony from thousand throats was creating a deafening


loudness though most of the victims were heavily gagged.


The blonde hobbled behind her slave-mates through scenes of pure


horror. There seemed to be no organisation, no program and no


allocation of places. Wherever space was, a girl was tortured.




Unknown to the Italian, the fair followed a strict plan to regulate


the course of events. A place had been assigned to every exhibitor


and all knew what they wanted to show to the audience.


But now, with the fair be heading for its climax and with more


visitors than ever, thronging and celebrating their perversity,


this Sodom & Gomorrah just had to blast an inexperienced


slavegirl's shattered mind.




To her left a stocky, bearded man, looking like a biker, and His


assistants had found their territory. To Them the Heaven's Gate


Exhibition owed the charming crossie-girls which were welcoming all


arrivals using the main gate. At the moment the biker was working


on a slave being crucified upside down. Since the heavy wooden


cross stood in a normal, upright position, the poor girl hung with


wide spread legs from the cross beam. Her hands were nailed to the


vertical beam's wood just some inches above the floor. And there


was another difference to the girls crucified outside: the nails


had been driven through wrists and ankles, the cramped postures of


her fingers and toes indicated the injury of the melianus nerves!


The sensation this cruel treatment caused was similar to burning by


fire. As if this wasn't enough agony, her clitoris, vulnerable and


at the height of the biker's face, was stretched and clamped into a


small, polished device. A flat metal form was moved by the bearded


man's hand forwards and backwards, guided by the device. It seemed


to run smooth, requesting no force due to its immense lubrication


by blood. Vanessa felt puke shooting up her oesophagus and


swallowed violently. The flat metal on its guiding device was a plane fitted with a razor blade, slicing away incredibly thin layers of flesh from the fixed clitoris. Bloody, circular wounds on the victim's breasts proved that this instrument had already been successfully used on her nipples.


The girl was beyond screaming. Her eyes had glazed over and


with every movement of the blade she retched clear slime which


filled her nose and eyes. A mechanism set the blade a tenth of an


millimetre deeper after each run, and soon, but not too soon, her


clitoris, like the girl's nipples, would be gone completely.




"Do you like what you see?"




"Yechhg..."- again Vanessa fought against the urge to vomit -


"Yes, Grand Mistress."




"Little liar. Let's go to our 'showroom'!"




And again they passed torture excesses and pain orgies on their way.


Infernal atrocities flooded the three slave's minds.


Visitors were invited to stick hollow needles into the unnaturally


bulging breasts of a non-pregnant, but hormone-


doped woman. Having done so, they used the needles as straws,


pleasurably sucking milk or blood or both from the discoloured


tits.


The nozzle of an extruder had been forced deeply into the vagina of


a dark-haired Spanish girl. Terrible screams escaped her


ball-gagged pout as her cervix and womb were crammed with a


plethora of pepper paste. Soon her colon would get the same


treatment.


The crowd was enjoying these heinous performances, and even at the


sixth day, you couldn't had seen everything. With over eighty


exhibitors and to all times at least 300 slavegirls under torture,


this year's HGE excelled the legendary one two years ago by far.




As a Grand Mistress the sadistic redhead had a first-class area at


Her disposal. At the far wall of the hall a HUGE concrete block,


maybe a former machine's foundation, overlooked the scenery. It was


the stage for the main event to come. Grand Mistress Gillian's


stand was occupying a third of the block's front wall, about


fifteen metres, and reached five metres into the hall. Vanessa


shuddered. This seventy-five square metres mirrored and outdid all


the horrors seen during the painful walk through the overcrowded


turbine house. Like at the other stands this one hadn't a real


demarcation. It needed just a step from the aisle to be newly


surrounded by suffering.




Hanging on her arms by chains, a female slave was watched by a


group of spectators. Her legs were spread by a bar at her knees and


bound at her feet. Though they weren't fixed further, the young,


gagged woman had decided to hold her knees bent and her feet


bottom-high behind her to touch a special part of the


sophisticated device hanging there.


With trembling knees and cramping calves she pressed her feet's


balls from below against the underside of a piston.  This way she


tried frantically to hold it up in its glass cylinder, otherwise it


would follow gravity, producing an even stronger vacuum than


already existing. Indeed she had a very good reason to do so. Her


clitoris had been sucked into a thin glass tube connected to the


cylinder. Dark red, almost violet, her pleasure bud had been


painfully elongated and was now only millimetres away from tiny,


swirling blades rotating inside the tube. A little more


low-pressure, and the centre of her womankind would be minced like


in a mixer.


Clit-cutting must be a new torture trend!




One Mistress was working over an East European girl with a bullwhip


in the most brutal way. The slave had been mercilessly stretched in


a metal frame, her long blonde hair bound to the structure's top so


her shoulders and back could receive the hateful kisses of the


extra-cruel leather. From personal, painful experiences Vanessa


knew about this Mistress' horrible abilities with Her instrument.


Under the teaching of Grand Mistress Gillian She had brought Her


skills to perfection - a true Whip Mistress. She could de-nipple a


breast with the first lash, aiming with a three-metres deathwhip


like with a sniper rifle.


At the moment She was determined to turn the howling slave's back


into raw meat. The Whip Mistress had even changed part of Her


clothes, wearing a sleeveless silken black blouse to Her gleaming


latex trousers for more freedom of movement. So no spectator stood


next to Her when She swung back for the next stroke. Like all


before this one draw blood. The miserable slave was mangled from


her neck down to her knee hollows, but the area between her


shoulder blades had been totally spared the leather tongue. The


tattoo on this spot showed a cat of prey's face, and not one single


lash lied inside a circle of fifteen centimetres in diameter around


the finely executed motive.




Artworks on skin.




Worked out by the whip, the spot was a white-stranded island in a


sea of blood.


The Whip Mistress took a break to wash Her slow-killing instrument


in brine, then started anew. The slave's screams got lost in the


omnipresent noises of the fair as her bleeding flesh was


inexorably kissed, licked and eaten away by the whip.




The last one in the Grand Mistress' staff was a Novice, a young,


dark-blonde woman in leather who was an aspirant to the status of


an Inferior Mistress.




Grand Mistress Gillian detached the chain from Vanessa's collar.


"Pull out your arse hook and put it to the used toys over there."




"Yes, Grand Mistress! Thank you, Grand Mistress!"




Vanessa hurried to grab the metal end. With an embarrassing 'plop'


the hook came free and she laid the slightly wet, but clean


restraining device onto the rack as told. Her poor arsehole felt


numb and severely swollen, but seemed to refuse closing. Vanessa


didn't dare touch it.


The Grand Mistress took her by her upper arm, dragged her next to a


coal filled brazier and forced her to kneel. She chained the


blonde's wrists to a ring in the floor between Vanessa's legs, then


left without a word, taking Michelle, Kate and the Inferior


Mistress with Her.




Soon Vanessa discovered that this kind of bondage was as well


simple as effective, holding the beautiful slave on her knees and


made her legs and arms useless. On the other hand this position


allowed her to cover her breasts and crotch with her upper arms or


hands respectively - a luxury she had missed far too long. Her


shame and decency were something the Grand Mistress hadn't tortured


out of her...yet.


Since Vanessa was kneeling in the stand's left part, having the


concrete block behind her and facing the far front wall where


they had entered, she couldn't see where the Grand Mistress had


taken Kate and Michelle to. The big brazier to her left blocked her


view. At least this spared her the sight of the girl being whipped


to slow death and the other one getting the vacuum torture.




Though it wasn't too warm in the turbine house, thanks to the


ventilation, Vanessa soon was covered in sweat. The heat emitted by


the brazier dried her out, except for her own tasty urine she


hadn't drank anything for the last eight or nine hours, and the


acid from her bladder was still burning in her dildo-ripped gullet.


She wouldn't be at all surprised if the pepper in her vagina had


increased her thirst, too!




Vanessa closed her eyes and tried to suppress her premonitions,


tried to forget where she was. The noise became a torrent of sounds


without any details when she opened her mind to her desperation.


Vanessa didn't know what was coming for her, but it would be


horrible. The Grand Mistress had brought them to this hell for a


certain reason. Michelle had talked about a 'main event'...




Vanessa turned her head in a scared motion as far as her collar


allowed it when she felt fingers gliding through her golden hair.


A man leaned over her, checking indecently her attributes.




"What's up, sleepyhead?" His sardonic sneer told Vanessa all the


things he wanted to do to her.


"Does nobody take care of you?"




"She isn't for sale! And don't touch my property!"


Grand Mistress Gillian approached, followed by a slavemaid.




"Excuse me! Of course not!", and gone he was!




The Grand Mistress fixed Vanessa's hair gently.


"Just another short-dicked idiot. We girls have to stick together,


right?"




"Yes, Grand Mistress." For a brief moment she truly wanted to thank


her tormentress! "You dumb cunt!", she called herself immediately,


"don't I see that She is manipulating me! She is fucking my mind!"




Meanwhile the slavemaid had kneeled next to the Grand Mistress,


head submissively bowed. With outstretched arms she hold a silver


tray with a carafe and a glass in front of her.


Grand Mistress Gillian filled the glass with water from the carafe


and held it to Vanessa's chapped lips.




"You must be really thirsty - just drink."




Greedily the blonde gulped the freezing cold liquid, even swallowed


the ice cubes. What a relief! The water moisten her dry pharynx,


the coldness took away the roughness in her throat.




The glass was refilled and again Vanessa emptied it in a second.


Water ran from corners of her mouth and dropped from her chin.




Drinking the third glassful, she slowed down a bit. The coldness


had started to hurt her teeth, but she didn't care. Who knows when


she'll get some water again.


She could feel the water travelling down her oesophagus and into


her stomach where it was spreading its coldness.




The fourth glass was offered, and Vanessa supposed that the Grand


Mistress was refuelling her for some more water sports. Now it took


her longer to empty the glass. Not that her body didn't need any


more liquid, but she had drunk too fast at the start, and now her


already shaky stomach rebelled.




She had to force herself to accept the fifth and last glassful of


water, but if she didn't, the Grand Mistress would do it for her.




Grand Mistress Gillian set the glass to the empty carafe onto the


try and dismissed the slavemaid.




"A little better now?"




"Yes, Grand Mistress. Thank You, Grand Mistress."




"And since you have drunk your water like a good girl, I will not


add even more to your punishment."




Vanessa looked scared, not understanding why some little relief


had to be paid with amounts of suffering.




"Do you think I've forgotten your little show with the cops?"




With more brutality than necessary She shoved a far too large ring


gag into her slave's mouth and buckled it extra-tightly. Once


again, like many times before, it was unbelievable for Vanessa how


far her jaw muscles could be stretched.




"Let's see if we can make you a little less noisy."




The Grand Mistress put a heatproof mitten over Her gloved right


hand and grabbed a glowing piece of coal out of the brazier with


it.




In sheer panic Vanessa tried to rise and crawled on her knees as


far away as her wrist chain allowed it, what wasn't much.




With Her left hand Grand Mistress Gillian seized the slave by her


hair, then brought the angrily burning coal to the blonde's


twisting face.


For a moment She enjoyed the tension, the panic and fear of Her


victim going to be punished. Then She stuffed the heated carbon


into Vanessa's defenceless mouth.




Though the Grand Mistress was holding Her mitten-protected hand


over the slave's mouth, Vanessa's howls were deafening. Her


hysterical breathing transported light steam and smell of burned


flesh through her nostrils.


Grand Mistress Gillian allowed the blonde's head some movement, but


let Her hand pressed on the mouth while Vanessa tried frantically


to push the glowing coal out with her tongue.


The howling turned into a guttural gargle.




"Swallow it, cunt, or it will burn away your tongue!"




Again Vanessa pushed the coal in vain against the mitten over her


mouth. By now the top of her tongue felt like burning by itself and


the suffering girl, knowing no other way out, tried to scream and


swallow at once. But collared and with her mouth being so wide


opened, swallowing was more than difficult, especially with the


agonising pain preventing any coordination. The intense heat burned


her palate, then the back of her tongue and mouth. She managed to


get the glowing coal into her throat, but gagged and retched it


into her blistering mouth again. Nearly insane with agony, the


blonde thrashed around like a berserk, then Grand Mistress Gillian


hauled Her slave's head all the way back. With her last fragment of


will Vanessa swallowed again, pure pain ripped down her oesophagus,


so slowly, then stroke the insides of her stomach's walls, reached


the organ's lower part - then died there in the still cold water


Vanessa had drunk.




Grand Mistress Gillian removed the ring gag from the seriously


damaged mouth.




"Too bad you haven't left some of the water. It would ease your


pain a little."




She let the sobbing and whimpering slave on her knees, removed the


mitten and turned away. That bitch will think twice before she


opened her mouth again.




A horrible scream could be heard from the girl at the vacuum


device. The inner wall of the thin glass tube was splashed in red.




The spectators cheered.








COOPERATION






Grand Mistress Gillian headed to the far end of the colossal


foundation block where a good friend of Her had His stand.  


Unfortunately He had been unable to come in person - until now.




Master Nathan had arrived just one hour ago from Japan and was


still impressed: in the Land of the Rising Sun slave trades and


torture fairs in the dimensions of the HGE took place three or four


times a year. Nevertheless it was a matter of honour to be


represented at the HGE and furthermore taking part at the main


event. This year it would be exceptionally pleasant since His


esteemed friend Grand Mistress Gillian wasn't just going to host


the main event, but moreover show something by Her own.


Master Nathan smiled. The fire-red waves of hair could be seen for


miles.




The Grand Mistress entered the stand and hold out Her right hand.


The dark-haired man in a tailor-made suit and waistcoat, some years


younger than Her, with a youthful appearance and a beard like the


one of a musketeer, stepped towards Her and kissed Her hand. But


instead of letting Her arm go, He pulled Her close to His body,


grabbing Her by Her waist.




"Hi, Grand Mistress", Nathan whispered sweetly.




Gillian had slung Her arms around His neck.




"Hi, Master."




He let His fingers travel to Her bottom, Her cat suit seemed to be


molten on Her. His hands cupped both Her arse cheeks, fondling them


through the obscenely tight latex, feeling every perfect detail of


Her imprisoned buttocks.




"Did You miss me?" Nathan asked.




Gillian's hand was sliding between His legs.




"What do You think?" She put Her chin on His shoulder, resting Her


face in Nathan's long hair.




"I think we should go to a silent place where nobody can watch us."




Gillian pressed His testicles.


"Then think again...", She breathed into His ear.




As She stepped back and saw Master Nathan's face, the Grand


Mistress couldn't suppress a smile. The cute boy! He tries it each


and every time.


She grabbed His hand:


"Come on, I've got a present for my brave Asia scout!"




Master Nathan let Himself guided to the Grand Mistress' stand.


Seeing poor Vanessa kneeling alone at the far end, obviously in


pain, He asked:




"What's up with her?




Grand Mistress Gillian told Him.




The Inferior Mistress led Michelle on her chain to Grand Mistress


Gillian and Her guest.




"And that must be Beauty", Master Nathan knew from His redheaded


friend.




Acting coy, the pert brunette performed a kittenish curtsey which


let her bells ring most lusciously.




"How sweet you are! And you look sooo CUTE with these pony ears!"




The Grand Mistress was clearly proud of Her pet and relished the


effect Beauty had on Master Nathan.




"Try her arse!"




Master Nathan looked at Her, irritated.




"I donate You her arse for one round. She is the best fuck in this


building - except for me, of course."




A honest smile appeared on Master Nathan's handsome face.


"Of course!"




He studied the petite pony-slave in front of Him. She was real


cute, her angelic face emphasized by the strict gag-harness.




"Right here?", Master Nathan asked.




"Yes, I won't give her out of my hand. And something else..."


Grand Mistress Gillian got close to Him and whispered into His ear.




He smiled: "As you wish." He opened His zipper.




In seconds Michelle was bent over a wooden horse, tightly bound to


it at wrists, elbows, upper arms, at ankles, knees and thighs, her


arse in perfect high for what was to come.




Master Nathan stepped behind her and passed His hands gently over


the warm, stretched flesh of her firm, juicy bottom.


He took hold on the butt plug and slowly worked it out of her still


lubed orifice, watching it appear from between the petals of her


rectal rim.


Beauty moaned behind her bit as the widest part glided trough her


narrow ring of muscles.


Having freed the nasty device from its cute tight prison, Master


Nathan enjoyed the sight of the tiny rosette, sexily swollen due to


the long-time embedded pony plug.




For over a minute He rubbed His impressive penis against Beauty's


damp vulva, moisten His tool with the gathered wetness. Not exactly


necessary for Beauty's backdoor, but highly pleasurable for the


Master's member.




Michelle's breasts, hanging without sag at the sides of the horse's


top-beam, got massaged by tender hands to relieve the initial pain


of her rectal re-opening.


She felt Him flick her stiff nipples into greater hardness,


tugging at her rings, twisting them and turning the metal in her


flesh.




During this, an exquisite pressure invaded her deep, then deeper,


then even more deeper.


Beauty relaxed her anus completely and moved her abdomen in a


better position, as far as the strict bondage allowed it, to


prevent the severe cramps which accompanied fast and deep


penetration.


Now she was impaled to the hilt, and her temporary Master started


to move out for the first time. Controlling each section


separately, the buggered slave clenched her muscles with surprising


force, highly trained in the art of anal cock-sucking.




It was unbelievable. The little filly was massaging Him with her


arse! Like a velvet fist her rectum worked its magic on His cock,


every single muscle was adjusted individually to cause Him the


highest pleasure possible. A hotter, tighter place wasn't


imaginable.


Master Nathan hoped to last long in Beauty's dark passage, feared


that He would burst any second, knew that the experienced


pony-slave wouldn't let Him come in a short eternity. 




Chewing on her bit, Michelle concentrated fully on her task.


His manhood hurt inside her small body, fully embedded it felt like


pushing right into her tonsils. Her nipple-bells rang sexily with


every cock-stroke, her plume waved above her head as Master Nathan


was breaking her in.


After six solid minutes of high-class arse-fucking she knew the


time was right to release the Master using her so hard. Any longer


and she won't have the strength to pleasure Him maximally during


His climax.




Master Nathan hadn't consider it to be possible but Beauty even


increased her efforts to an unbearable level. Not in the condition


to control Himself anymore, He exploded deep in her guts. The very


last drop was pressed out of Him as He inseminate the girl's


rectum. He almost collapsed onto the brunette's back and buried


His smooth face in her long hair.




It took Master Nathan some moments to rally His breath.


Slowly He straighten Himself up and pulled His tired phallus


carefully out of Beauty's rear hole.



Signs of waste were visible on His manhood




"WHAT'S THAT?!", Grand Mistress Gillian yelled in faked fury.


"How dare you soil my guest! Wait, I'll teach you manners...!"




The whole action, right from the start, hadn't been unnoticed by


groups of spectators nearby and everyone of them knew that there


was much more to come.




Now Michelle knew why she was here and why she hadn't received an


enema like the others. She remembered the Grand Mistress' words:




'...take your measurements for a puppy equipment...'




"In my arse, or what?!", she thought bitterly, realising that she


was getting fooled. Just for a good show!




Grand Mistress and Master both went to the exhausted slave's head.


The sadistic woman put two fingers under Michelle's chin and lifted


her face so their eyes met.




"I already had planned something for my little girl, but since you


have lied to me in the cargo bay, I'll go extra-hard on you:




First you are going to clean what got dirty by your fault.




Then we're going to make sure that something like that won't happen


again. This will be combined with a severe punishment for your


dirtiness.




Eventually you'll compensate Master Nathan for His trouble with


you."




She removed the bit by using its quick-snap function, but let the


head harness in place.


Michelle worked her tongue and aching jaws. Today the unpleasant


mouth-bondage had been worn by her extraordinarily long. Not longer


than ever, but long enough to loose its erotic thrill.




Master Nathan took her chin and looked roguish into Beauty's doe


eyes, then guided her view to His stained penis.




"Do you see that?"




"Yes, Master." She tried to talk clearly.




"Why did this happened?"




"Because Master had fucked...because this pony is a dirty little


pet, Master."




"Louder."




"This Pony Is A Dirty Little Pet, Master!"




"At least you understand your fault. I agree with your Grand


Mistress to let you fully take the consequences, don't you think?"




"This slave craves for fulfilling its Grand Mistress' and Master's


wishes."




"You know what to do. And don't be a biter." The start signal for


her tasty task...




Michelle closed her eyes, forced herself not to hesitate and


opened her soft mouth widely.


Master Nathan filled her oral cavity with His cock pulled freshly


from the anal depths of her colon. Slowly, but steadily pressing,


He soon reached the back of her throat. Her lips grabbed His meat


and He pulled out some centimetres so the petite slavegirl could


worship the invading part with her tongue.


Being as talented with her mouth as with her opposite holes, Beauty


let Master Nathan's member rose again while she cleaned His manhood


from all traces of sodomy, tasting her own arse.


From time to time she overcame her revulsion and swallowed her


flavoured spit, the wicked aroma nearly making her puke.


The disgusting act took her two or three minutes, then the Master


removed His now spotless penis.


Michelle let her head sink, the rectal odour heavy in her mouth.


She knew that Grand Mistress Gillian and Master Nathan weren't


nearly through with her.




The Grand Mistress circled her, letting the bit gag dangle between


Her fingers.




"We don't want you biting off your talented tongue, do we?"




She first slipped the bit deep into Michelle's vagina, then set it


back in its cute original place.




"So it tastes a little sweeter." 




Michelle sunk her teeth into the rubber layer around the steel rod


and waited for her next torment.




A long and rather thick nozzle was rammed up her spent arsehole,


far too deep to be pushed out by herself.


She heard the Grand Mistress talk, not just to Master Nathan, but


also to the increasing number of spectators.




"Our sweet slave here has a little trouble with her rear hole..."




The spectators laughed, knowing exactly that Michelle was innocent


of her situation.




"...so we have to take severe measures to fix this. This fluid..."




Michelle gasped behind her bit as a cool liquid started to rush


into her bowels.




"...is heat-activated: reaching a temperature of 28°C it will


change its pH-value from 'neutral' to 'low'. The delay created by


this guarantees an even cleaning effect."




"How 'low', Grand Mistress?", someone asked from the audience.




"About the level of acetic acid."




Getting the idea, Michelle yelped and thrashed against her bounds.




"If we use normal acid, especially the lower regions of her


viscera, which are the first in contact, get burned, and that very


badly. This technique here allows us to remove just the membranes'


inner layers, simultaneously in the whole intestines."




Michelle howled, the sound clearly audible behind the gag.


She started to beg through her bit while her tender guts received


more and more of the cruel enema. The watery liquid, already over


one litre, crept further and further into her, now filling her


lower colon completely. Horrible cramps ripped her digestive


system, trying to tear her intestines to shreds.


Two litres.


She felt her abdomen bulging out in earnest and screamed as her


bowels were crushed between the fluid's pressure and the unyielding


horse-top. A sick sensation of bursting let her body tremble anew


as the liquid forced its way into another section of her bowls.


More than three litres, and Michelle was sure that her entrails


were about to detonate, she KNEW that in the next second her body


would tear from the inside in pure, fiery agony.


After administering Her dainty slave almost five litres, Grand


Mistress Gillian gave a signal to stop to the Inferior Mistress at


the enema machine. Fitted with a pressure/suction pump and a number


of different tanks, this machine was going to serve the Grand


Mistress well.




Michelle, weeping and sobbing, tried to hold the pain in her


innards bearable by not moving at all. But after a few minutes a


additional sensation broke its way through her suffering; not the


tearing burning of stretched tissues, but the eating burning of


BURNING tissues!


The young woman freaked out as she felt her colon's inner surface


melting away. This was more than pain, more than anguish, this was


mindblasting agony!




Master Nathan was impressed as Beauty literally exploded in her


bounds, tearing at the leather holding her, ringing her sexy bells.


Inhuman sounds, not being muffled by the pony gag, shot out of the


poor victim while she lost control over her bladder.


Another signal from Grand Mistress Gillian and the heinous chemical


was sucked out of the nearly insane girl, its now dirty pink


colour, caused by waste, blood and liquid flesh, visible through


the clear hose.




Michelle bit down hard on her gag, then screamed again. The pain


was still much more than she could bear.


But in a moment of shock and total disbelieve she became silent as


new pressure raped her bowels.


Two and a half litres of a milder solution tortured Michelle's


viscera for nearly three minutes before they left, this time mixed


to a lighter shade of pink.




The third enema, three litres of pure ice-cold water, immediately


gave her torturously severe cramps, but cleaned her out fully. Just


the slightest traces of blood. The Grand Mistress was satisfied.


An incorrect timing, a wrong compound, staying too long inside the


victim: all these contain the danger of perforating her intestines


and the hazard to harm her beyond healing.




Grand Mistress Gillian ran Her hand through Beauty's hair to calm


her down. With shrill, but soon dying shrieks of her broken voice


the brunette had reacted to the body heated water. Now she was too


exhausted to do anything else than endure the final two-litre enema


in silence.




The Inferior Mistress was about to let the machine suck Michelle's


bowels dry when Master Nathan made one of His highly welcomed


suggestions:




"Is Your blonde slave over there still thirsty?"




"Yes, I think she has a dry tongue." Grand Mistress Gillian


sniggered mischievously. She went back to Vanessa and loosened the


Italian's chains.




Since the bondage horse wasn't blocked by the awful brazier,


Vanessa had been able to watch Grand Mistress Gillian and the


handsome Master who had corn-holed Michelle. She had wondered (not


really!) about the sadistic redhead's strange ways to show Her love


to Her favourite pet but had been understandably more busy with her


own ordeal.




Now she was dragged towards the sawhorse-like device Michelle was


still bound onto and was pushed to her knees again behind the


brunette's sexy arse, right into the puddle of girl-urine.




"Does your traitorous tongue still hurt? Though you don't deserve


it, I'll give you the chance for some release."




The Grand Mistress took the wide ring from Vanessa's mouth and


ripped the nozzle painfully out of Beauty's rectum, then pressed


the blonde's head against the arse in front of her, making sure


that lips and rosette met each other.




Michelle didn't need to be told to share the source of her bowel's


irrigation with the Italian. The tortured slave hurriedly expelled


the warm water, striving to end her high-colonic nightmare.




Vanessa tried to suppress that she was drinking right from


Michelle's rectum. She only hoped that the water could ease her


oral pain. But no mercy was permitted: the pressure hurt her


burns, the swallowing ground her cooked tongue and tore her


blistered throat.




The enema was released far too fast to be completely swallowed by


Vanessa, so most of the clear water was running over her chin, onto


her breasts and over her flat, sporty tummy. The spectators vied


with each other in cruel comments.




Panting, Vanessa freed herself from Beauty's anal fountain to


gather some breath, but was immediately pushed back by her Grand


Mistress.




"Hhhhmmm...yummy!"




Again and again the tortured bowels pulsated and fed warm water


from their inner depths to the blonde girl.


Eventually, at least five minutes later and after a long, painful


sucking on Vanessa's side, Michelle's arse ran dry.




Grand Mistress Gillian pulled the Italian away to the left.


Vanessa followed and stayed at her new place, still on her knees,


her young body glistening with rectal dishwater.




Again the Grand Mistress removed Beauty's pony gag, looked at the


deep imprints of Michelle's teeth in the bit's rubber jacket, then


asked with a cruel, mocking voice:




"Do you want to try again pleasing Master Nathan with your arse, or


do you still feel dirty?"




"NO! ANYTHING! PLEASE NO MORE!"




"Ask nicely."




"Please, Master, fuck this slave's arse!", she begged with her


hoarse voice.




The Grand Mistress wasn't yet convinced.


"What kind of arse?"




"...this slave's...dirty arse...?"




"So do we need another flushing?"




"NO! PLEASE, NO!"




"Then, what kind of arse?", the Grand Mistress insisted.




"I DON'T KNOW!", Michelle croaked shrilly.




Smiling, Master Nathan bent down and whispered the right answer


into her false pony ear, loud enough so that she could hear it.




"CLEAN!", she cried, "FUCK THIS SLAVE'S CLEAN ARSE!"




Master Nathan stepped back to her bottom.


"Almost sounds like an order!"




"Then better do what she tells You!" Grand Mistress Gillian giggled


as She re-gagged poor Michelle.




The audience cheered as Master Nathan entered Bound Beauty once


more, eliciting a high-pitched yell.


Since the long nozzle had ejaculated the awful liquid directly into


the far end of the slave's rectum, her used sphincter was swollen


and sore, but not nearly as raw as her inflamed intestines


certainly were.


Master Nathan didn't expect Beauty to do her trick with her arse


muscles once more, so He just enjoyed her rectum's naturally


tightness, now intensified by the further swellings of her abused


passage.




It had to be an eternity for Michelle till Master Nathan's semen


moisten her secret orifice for the second time. He pulled out,


stowed away His clean member, then kissed Beauty onto her forehead.




"Your Grand Mistress can be proud of you!" 




She squealed as He re-tailed her with the pony plug.




A slavemaid loosened Michelle's bounds and took the girl from the


wooden structure. Immediately the long-haired brunette tried to bent into a foetal position, but was held upright on her feet. She


couldn't walk without the help of the slavemaid, the lingering


bowel-pain let her stagger on her mean hoof boots. The slavemaid


was ordered to take the poor slave to the non-public area. There a


medicament was going to be administered to her avoiding infections


caused by Michelle's sexy arse-to-mouth action. At least for


Beauty, this hellish fair was over.




Master Nathan expressed His thanks to the Grand Mistress.




"I can't imagine a sweeter present! You are sure You won't give her


to me?"




"Absolutely."




The Master sighed, then excused Himself.


The main event's start was near, and Both had to make final


preparations. But They didn't have to wait long for working


together again.








UNDER THE SCOURGE






Grand Mistress Gillian spent some moments for organisational


decisions. The Whip Mistress was still savagely slicing up the


East European girl. The Novice was doing business with some


visitors, showing them the vacuum clit-cutter, where the poor,


sexually mutilated female was still hanging.


That meant Kate got a visit from Inferior Mistress Zoë, because the


Grand Mistress had something in store for Vanessa.




Behind the huge concrete block some kind of backstage area had been


set up. Rooms, separated by subsequently built walls, were at


disposal for the main event's performers.


In one of them, vertically chained and spread-eagled, Kate had


suffered for the last hour and was still suffering. Red fogs of


pain blurred the concrete wall some metres in front of her, her torn jaw joints were swollen terribly. The brutally tightened chains tried to quarter her alive while she fought against suffocation caused by the monstrous gag and her hanging position.




At some point, after dreadful pain and before even more dreadful


pain, the door behind Kate was opened and the clicking sounds of


high heels proclaim the promise of further horrors.




Inferior Mistress Zoë approached poor Kate with a clear mission and


She was highly motivated and eager to fulfil Grand Mistress


Gillian's order. That She let Her do the final preparation of this


bitch groaning in front of Her was a good sign. Soon She wouldn't


be an Inferior Mistress any more, but the youngest Mistress ever


being in Grand Mistress Gillian's service.




It had been fun electro-shocking this cunt earlier in the loading


zone, and now She would have even more fun. She surrounded the


cramping, pain-sweat covered body, running a sharp fingernail over


hot skin and twitching muscles.




"Not so tough any more, hmm?"




She twisted the tit clamps, noticing the clotted blood, and played


with the imprisoned nipple rings. Hoarse stertorousness indicated


that Kate hadn't lost the ability to feel pain in her breast tips.




"I bet, there goes more...", the Inferior Mistress thought and


pulled at the clamps without loosing them first. Fresh blood


gushed out of the deep scratches, which were torn by the clamp's


teeth, while Kate's breasts were pulled to cones. Both women


expected the nipples to be ripped off, the blonde one shrieking in


horror, the dark-haired running Her tongue over Her lips in


delight. Eventually the metal came off, the stretched breast


snapped back, but left blood and skin on the clamp's jaws.




"Whooo-Haa!"




Cheerful like a little girl the Inferior Mistress put the clamps


away and took an instrument of which Kate had so much dread that


she almost wet herself.




At first, Inferior Mistress Zoë had doubts that a petite person


like Herself could handle the extra-heavy scourge. But after some


training lessons She controlled the heinous weapon and could make


use of it most effectively. She was a natural in these things.


She shook the torture device to separate its single chains from


their tangle. They rattled and clanked with a massive sound.


Seven chains, each sixty centimetres long and each fitted with


spikes, blades, thorns, hooks and morning-star-like weights -


all for you, Kate!


No more playing chauffeur and babysitter for these slave-sluts!


Now She would prove to be worthy. After the incident with the cops


She didn't want to disappoint the Grand Mistress. She was going to


show Her skills to Grand Mistress Gillian - on Kate's body!




Letting the evil instrument lie in front of the panting slave, the


Inferior Mistress took off Her tight leather jacket, revealing a


waistcoat with plunging neckline. Though made of leather, too, and


being tight as hell, it allowed enough mobility.


She put a slide between Her teeth, then reached with both hands


into Her dark mane, which wasn't unlike Michelle's, but far not so


long. Having forced back Her hair, the young sadist grabbed Her


cruel toy with cat-like agility.




"Let's see if I can make you scream like Grand Mistress always


causes you to do, despite your little gag!"




She positioned Herself behind Kate, taking measurements for Her


first stroke.




"Anything to say before we start?"




Of course, She didn't expected nor waited for an answer.


The first lash was crushing. And it was the lightest one...




Simultaneously to Kate’s ordeal under the scourge Vanessa was


hanging in the next room. She had been chained some minutes ago in


the very same way as Kate. A female body, stretched out real


tightly, would be split open by the whip so beautifully.


The slender slave was already in serious pain. Shoulders and hip


were aching, her whole mouth swollen and blistered. The itching on


her legs from having kneeled in Michelle's urine was by far her


smallest problem.




"I want you to welcome my newest toy!"




The Grand Mistress held some kind of razorwhip in front of


Vanessa's face. The blonde had been razorwhipped before, with a


model carrying blades on its lashes. But this instrument had


chains, and each chain link was a blade itself.


Grand Mistress Gillian let the metal whip run over the slave's


beautiful face without adding any force. Vanessa clenched her eyes


shut as the impossibly sharp edges cut her skin due to the mere


contact. Thin red lines appeared, filled with blood, but actually


too fine to bleed.




"Imagine the experience when I pussywhip you with this joy giver!


It would take everything away: you would be blank down there after


the first dozen of strokes."




Vanessa shuddered at the thought of her last pussywhipping. The


Grand Mistress had used a needlewhip on her freshly shaven vulva


after tenderising it first with the strap, then with a 'normal'


multi-thonged pussywhip. After having worked her genitals over for


centuries, She had chosen vinegar to make Vanessa's most female


parts nice and clean again.




Grand Mistress Gillian hadn't change anything of Her clothing for


the forthcoming session, just opened the zipper of Her cat suit,


so the inner sides of Her perfect breasts became visible.




"But first things first. Since you are born in Italy I would like


to introduce you into the history of this country. This device..."




She loved to show Her victims the instruments before starting with


the torture and let a second, longer, three-thonged whip dangle in


front of Vanessa's eyes.




"...is inspired by the roman 'flagrum taxillatum'. Like the ancient


original my eager slavekisser has a dumbbell-like lead weight at


the end of each leather tongue. There is no problem to use it for


executions. Now you understand why it's so important that you are


tied up tightly. So I can aim properly and wouldn't tear any


useful organs inside your sweet body. Letting you escape this way


would be a shame."




Grand Mistress Gillian's last words were escorted by an


excruciating, gag-filtered howl as behind the wall Kate couldn't


suppress her screams any more.  




"Sounds like your lovely friend has a little lead. So let us start,


too."




Vanessa knew what was necessary to make Kate scream and that she


was in for a similar treatment. The hissing sound behind her let


the pitiful blonde shriek before her back was actually licked by


the first stroke. The horrible kiss of the leather tails sliced


into her as she had it felt uncounted times before. but then, with


highest acceleration, the lead pearls found their aims. At the very


first moment she felt just coldness on the hit parts as the blood


was pressed away, but then an agony of unbearable sharpness


exploded, radiating through her tissue and into her bones. The


violated spots felt like the lead balls had lodged in her flesh.


Slowly, so slowly, each fiery spot eased off to a dull, pulsating


pain, but was replaced by three new in the same time.




Due to her body's extremely tight stretch, the lashes didn't just


draw bloody welts but open up her back and flanks completely. With


every stroke a blood-curdling scream rose in Vanessa's burned


throat, but then the lead tips let her skin burst open and her


flesh explode and the pain became so bad that it crushed her lungs.


If the Grand Mistress wouldn't paused after each stroke, the blonde


would had been fainted from the lack of oxygen long ago. But as a


true sadist the redhead woman gave Her victim enough time to savour


every single detail.




Without any hurry She let the savage whip play around Vanessa's


rips and trace her shoulder blades while dotting her breast and


belly in the most heinous ways.


Vanessa's shredded screams echoed shrilly in the ugly room as she


was disciplined like a real roman slave. By now new urine had


arrived in her bladder and sprayed out of her body with every


second or third lash.




After forty strokes the Grand Mistress forced Herself to stop.


The blonde slut was impudently at the edge of passing out.


Grand Mistress Gillian let the wicked scourge sink.


Her face was wet with blood, Her crotch wet with excitement.


Not many things were more erotic than a sexy blood-whipping.




Setting aside the bloody flagrum, Grand Mistress Gillian gave Her


pain-wrecked slavegirl an injection.


Vanessa's eyes got an insane expression as the stimulant coerced


her back into full consciousness.




"Feeling warmed up, my dear?"




Vanessa's only answers were sobs and incoherently stammering.




The Grand Mistress disconnected the feet chains from the ground,


fastened them to a pulley and raised Vanessa's still wide-spread


legs until the crying slave was hanging nearly horizontally.


Suspended by aching arms and legs, the Italian had her defenceless


vagina obscenely opened and perfectly positioned in height and


angle.




Grand Mistress Gillian poked with a finger on some spots of the


bald pussy, where the lead tips had done their dreadful work.


Each time She was rewarded with a high-pitched scream.




She had decided to prepare the blonde beauty with the tawse.


The broad, split leather strap reddened the mons veneris most


nicely. On the yet unharmed flesh it created a deep, almost


unbearable stinging, but on the scourge-licked spots it felt like


getting hammered blunt nails right into the pelvis bone.




The Grand Mistress was pleased and impressed that Her victim was


still able to scream in highest octaves.


Twelve hits, and Vanessa's crotch was prepared for REAL pain.




Grand Mistress Gillian took the razorwhip.




"NOOOOO, PLLEEAAATHHH NOOO!", Vanessa's burned tongue managed to


articulate.




The Grand Mistress hit her across the breasts, slicing up her tit


meat.




"Yes, of course, cute-cunt! What do you think you are here for?"




Then the first stroke whipped her pussy, and the pain was beyond


anything her mind was able to recognise; beyond former sessions


with a razorwhip kissing her back, beyond earlier pussywhippings,


beyond the recent scourging. The agony made her puke out some of


the water she had been forced to drink, the gastric acid in it


burned in her breast's and belly's wounds. But Vanessa wasn't able


to realise the burning, there was only the sensation of having cut


out her femininity.


Again the Grand Mistress struck, and red hot pain raced through the


Italian's vulva, trying to tear her abdomen apart. Her muscles


cramped horribly, then relaxed, and what was left in her bladder


spilt out.




"What up with all you young girls nowadays? Don't you have any


manners?"




Grand Mistress Gillian caught a handful and deeply rubbed the


urine into Vanessa's beaten pudenda. Then She waited and let it


sting revoltingly while listening to the girl's shrill shrieks. 


After half a minute She took a glass bottle.




"I don't like my slaves smelling like piss-whores."




Vanessa's screams reached unbelievable heights as her split


genitals were meticulously cleaned with pure alcohol. The demoniac


liquid even washed out her vaginal cavity and the urethra’s opening.




The tortured blonde got insane as the Grand Mistress used the


razorwhip again. The stimulant boiling in her blood forced her


experience the deep-flaying of her cunt-lips and clitoris. The


blade's tips dug into her, then cut cleanly through her flesh.


Unwillingly they let their wounded prey go as Grand Mistress


Gillian pulled them away for the next stroke.


Again the girl was hit. One of the thongs invaded especially deeply


and stuck in near the anus. It was brutally pulled away and opened


a horrible gash from the right labium's outer side, along the


clit's root, almost to Vanessa's belly button, splitting her


clitoral hood. The scream rose into the most extreme spheres of


sounds a human being was able to create, then broke down as the


slave's voice failed with a ugly scratching. More blood than ever


poured from the cruel wounds and ran down between the arse cheeks


to rain onto the floor.




The Grand Mistress knew that, if She ever wanted any more fun with


Her blonde slavegirl, She had to stop now and staunch the serious


bleedings the abominable whip had caused.




While Vanessa's body was melting in torture-pain, her lover was


crossing hell, too. It would have been unimaginable for the


Italian, but the scourging of Kate's flesh was even far worse.




With the stamina of a true fanatic the Inferior Mistress was


systematically carving Her hate into the helpless victim.


Kate had found some slack, not in her bondage but in her body


itself, to struggle violently under the impact impulses. The


extra-heavy scourge didn't slash like the razorwhip Vanessa was


enjoying right now. It was a even more perverted version of the


flagrum, but able not just to torture with whip-thongs and weights,


but also truly ripping away the flesh with claws and hooks. Even


without the additional parts the highly accelerated chains would


let the hit skin burst open immediately.


Due to Inferior Mistress Zoë's outrages several of Kate's ribs were


broken. Now the dark-haired tormentress aimed for the kidneys.




"Piss blood, whore!"




The slave's lower flanks got uglily coloured and Kate uttered a


retching sound into her gag.




"Sorry, I can't hear you." The Inferior Mistress let the air out of


the torturous device that had tormented Kate's mouth for over two


hours. The gag was taken out and left the lower jaw freely dangle


in the muscles and tendons. With sadistic pleasure the young


pain-giver reached with both thumbs in Kate's mouth, grabbed the


jaw with all fingers and smashed it back into the swollen sockets.


Kate cried.




"Say 'Thank you!', ungrateful bitch!"




But Kate didn't dare move her aching jaw and crushed tongue, being


sure to damage the joints and muscles even more by forming words.




"Ohhh, wait! You WILL speak!"




Another stroke to one of the last spots which hadn't been destroyed


yet. Kate's tightly stretched body split once again.




"Beg for mercy!"




Only unintelligible noises came from the reddish-blonde who was


choking on her own shrieks.




"Come on, bitch! Beg!"




She gave her the by far cruellest stroke till now, ripping lines of


flesh from the bleeding woman's body.




Kate searched desperately for breath, then screamed, screamed, and


begged.




Next hit; the muscle of her right arse cheek was half ripped away.




"Beg me to stop!"




Frantically she screamed for an end while her urine washed the


blood from her inner thighs.




The left arse cheek...




"Beg me to hurt Vanessa instead of you!"




"NEVAAAHHHR!", Kate articulated in a scream of pure agony.




"Beg me, and I will aim for your vital organs; and after ten or


fifteen strokes there will be no pain for you any more."




"AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHHHNNnnnnNNNOOOOHHhhooo!"




The scourge had reached over her right shoulder and had for the


sixth or seventh time punished what had been left of Kate's right


breast.




"You just begged me for mercy, didn't you? That's my condition."




This was mindfucking, of course. The Inferior Mistress was far away


from being permitted to let Kate die.




Instead the sadistic woman was beating the screaming slave to near


death with repetitive strokes around the flanks to tear away tits


and belly-meat, but masterfully avoided to drive any bone splinters


of the destroyed ribs into inner organs.




Kate's latest inhuman sound was mixed with a really impressive


scream from Vanessa next door. The young torturer hoped that Her


victim had heard and realised this shriek.


But all good things had to come to an end, and at some point the


beaten bitch didn't react any more. Smelling salt let her get clear


a little bit, but the Inferior Mistress had to apply the stimulant.


It was obviously, even to a gory, raging devil like Her, that the


blonde slave had reached her absolute limit of endurance. There was


no doubt that the stimulant would force Kate to suffer even more,


but that was needed for what was to come. Inferior Mistress Zoë


nearly slipped out on the blood-flooded floor as She granted Kate


an extra-cruel Good-Bye-stroke between her legs.






              


HELLBOUND






There was no better choice for a presenter of the "Heaven's Gate"


main event than Grand Mistress Gillian. Her full, rich voice


reached with the help of the small microphone clipped to Her collar


the farest end of the crowd turbine house. The monolithic concrete


block had been turned into a full-equipped stage. Two huge screens


at the back were showing simultaneously the pictures sent from the


camera slaves. Three docile slavegirls had been chosen for this


task and had got their arms cruelly laced up in leather single


sleeves until their elbows had met. Over their latex-masked faces


digital video cameras which looked and were worn like night vision


gears had been fitted. Now they were on the stage, too, busy to


catch the best views of the carnages taking place.




When the main event had started, the activities at the stands had


come to an end, and now everybody was trapped by Grand Mistress


Gillian's tasteful aura of cruelty. Like the archpriestess of a


pagan cult She hosted the fair's finale. To get the public in the


proper mood, the show had started with the obligatory "Whipping of


the Virgin"-session.




Now Master Hektor, the bearded biker with the preference for


crucifixion, was making His contribution to the crowd's


entertainment. A fully masked, gagged and blindfolded slavegirl,


being kept in sensory deprivation for the last three days, was


doing the splits: her left leg behind her, the right in front, each


resting on a separate beam, the toes of both feet extremely


pointed. The slender teen's arms were steel-cuffed, wrists to


elbows, behind her back, and her already opened vagina was widened


by a metal speculum. An ostensibly stabilising rod had been


inserted into her most female hole and fixed to the ground half a


metre below her. The sweat-covered ballerina-slave used all her


strength she didn't need for keeping her position to scream


incredibly into her penis gag. Her own trembling legs were


torturing her with cramping muscles and overstretched tendons while


she despairingly tried to keep still and not to roll sidewards. Due


to her previous treatment she hardly knew where 'up' and 'down'


were. All of her efforts were orientated to not let the thin pussy


rod touch the speculum's prongs, or worse, her vaginal walls. She


had a good reason to avoid the contact with the inserted metal. The


vertical rod was, nobody would be surprised, unbearably hot.


Tilting her body too far to the left, the invader burned the


vagina's right inner side, arching her body too far to the other


direction, the left of her love channel got kissed. When she was in


luck, the rod rested against one of the speculum's prongs and her


were given some seconds until the heat had travelled through the


gynaecological instrument. But after endless minutes under this


torment, the speculum was cruelly heated up by the touches and hot


air had filled the madly crying girl's cavity. Her pain-torn face


could be made out under the strict latex mask filling the video


screens. The hissing sound of vaporising urine sizzled


extra-loudly from the big loudspeaker cabinets. The spectators


roared with delight, flashlights of photo cameras and mobile phones


flared up.




By putting Her index finger on Her smiling lips, Grand Mistress


Gillian told the audience not to give a hint to the victim. She


handed Master Hektor a razorwhip, the very same instrument that had


sliced up Vanessa, and it was still bloody.


The poor, disoriented slave, insanely squirming during her awful


gymnastics, didn't even know what was coming for her.




One lash over her belly, and she screamed in searing pain, multiply


opened up and again burning on the rod.


One lash over her breasts. Now her blood was running freely.


One lash between her most extremely spread legs. The razor chains


avoided the undesirable contact with the pole; the blades could get


damaged. Instead, the metal tails kissed the shaven crotch's soft


front, each one licking blood. The shriek was inhuman.




The audience uttered "Oohhh" and "Aahhh" as Master Hektor held a


fifteen-centimetre nail in the air. He went to the beam behind the


pain-overloaded ballerina and ran the nail's tip over her left


foot's sole. The slave hyperventilated behind the gag under her


mask and the brute set the tip to the sole's middle. Twisting left


and right, He literally drilled the first centimetre of metal into


the girl's pained flesh. Blood spluttered. His victim was in true


agony now and He changed His tactic. Pressing with both hands and


His full body weight onto the nail's head, Master Hector forced the


steel almost completely through the foot, scratching bones and


ripping muscles - and tearing the medianus nerve.


One powerful hit with a hammer, and the nail was driven into the


beam.




The girl was close to be torn away from consciousness by lack of


oxygen and extreme pain, so Master Hektor hurried.




Nail number two was presented. This time, on the instep of the


right foot, He used the heavy hammer right from the start. A wet,


nasty splash could be heard, but the sound of splitting bones was


muffled by the pierced flesh and howled away by the ballet-slave's


last, horrible noise.




"Master Hektor, split-crucifixion!", the charming Grand Mistress


proclaimed with true admiration. The spectators cheered and


applauded. The few with seats gave a standing ovation.




The maybe dead girl hung limp to the left side, smoke was emerging


from the vaginal orifice. Hastily the nails were removed by


slavemaids, then the stage was cleared from the beams, the victim


and most of her blood.




While the mono-glove armbinders contorting their limbs, the camera


slaves captured the arrival of the next protagonists.




"I have the honour..."




The crowd became silent when Grand Mistress Gillian started to


speak again.




"...not only to present You the just elected 'Torture Of The Year'


but furthermore perform this with an absolute majority voted


activity with the help of two very lovely young ladies. Applause!"




Encouraged by the Inferior Mistress' cattle prod, Kate and Vanessa


limped up the stairs which let them enter the stage from between


the video screens. The hundreds of people hesitated a moment, then


loudly gave vent to their enthusiasm and whistled at the two


bloodied blondes. They had expected untouched slaves, ready to


be taken down on stage from start to end. Instead the gorgeous


Grand Mistress presented them warm gore on tender skin; red on


white, every welt outlining the female attributes. Ready to suffer


only for suffering. Just like a slavegirl should be when having


arrived ultimate torment.




From the moment the stimulant had flooded her system, it had


created terrible effects to Vanessa's mind. The pain, the sensation


of being pained, had become most invasive. In the so created


paranoid condition she already had felt the razorwhip before it's


chains had slashed her flesh. Now, standing on the stage in


glistening spotlights, the drugged up girl was highly confused.


From the darkness beyond the massive concrete structure faceless


creatures thirsted after her.




At least, she saw Kate standing next to her - and wished in the


same moment she hadn't. Her sweet lover had been heavily scourged,


too. There was no part of her body below her neck that wasn't


covered with lacerations and contused wounds. Black and blue marks


disfigured her flesh where the skin mercifully hadn't popped open


under the whip weights. Kate's right nipple had been nearly cut


off. Clotting blood formed a broad sickle in her aureole. With the


gruesome wound a little deeper or with just another stroke to the


target, her breast would had become nippleless.




Vanessa turned her head away. Knowing what her Katie had endured


was by far the worst torture for her. Against her will, the Italian


looked down at her own body. Her flesh was decorated over and over


with uncounted welts and purple bruises. Cuts and tears, some of


appalling depth, allowed her blood to run freely. She also was


still bled slightly from the pussywhipping, her inner thighs


completely covered in red.




The Grand Mistress was highly pleased with Her assistant's work.


This bitch Kate had never looked more beautifully...till know.




She spoke to the audience again:




"On this two beauties here we are going to perform the following


torment in a traditional and in a new way...


The 'Torture Of The Year' is: " She made a dramatic pause...




"Anal Impalement!"




Rejoicing echoed trough the turbine house.




Vanessa registered her ability to see colours fading as the silent


fear let her blood pressure drop. Soon it would rise again, to


unknown heights, driven by pain and panic.


Before her weakening knees could fail her, the Inferior Mistress


pressed the blonde into doggy style position in the middle of the


stage. Kate had to kneel in front of her fellow sufferer.


The Italian heard Grand Mistress Gillian's velvet voice.




"Lick her, and lick her good! She'll need it!"




Vanessa knew there wouldn't be no other lube for her lover. So she


reached out with her blistered tongue to moisten Kate's tormented


anus. It was not the first time she made love to another girl's


rear hole, changing oral attention into anal pleasure when allowed


by the Grand Mistress. But today the young slave performed a very


poor rim job. Her dry mouth didn't even provide enough salvia to


wet itself, and the pain-crazed woman in front of her wasn't able


to open up her clenched, swollen rear hole.




"Oh, pleeeaase, Katie, relax! Don't make it even harder for both of


us", Vanessa thought.




She furtively licked Kate's clit trying to spend at least some


pleasure, but this action was immediately detected.




The Grand Mistress kicked her in the ribs. Vanessa rolled to her


side, bending in pain, and caused one of the camera slaves to fall.


The bound maid managed to struggle back onto her feet without the


help of her arms while Vanessa stayed in a foetal position on the


ground, sobbing.




Grand Mistress Gillian let her. She was going to give her a real


reason to cry soon enough.




"Mistresses and Masters, for the first demonstration we will use a


wooden pole with a rounded tip, just like in the old days. This way


the pole won't pierce internal organs but push them away and the


victim will last for dozens of hours."




On the stage's right side Inferior Mistress Zoë pulled a black


cover from an upright object. A smooth, wooden post appeared, one


and a half metres in height and nine centimetres in diameter, with


a pointed, but at the last centimetres rounded tip.




The Grand Mistress forced Kate to her trembling feet and pushed the


reddish-blonde slave towards the post. Kate's tries of resisting


were more than weak. Thanks to the stimulant her mind was receptive


for more pain, but her physical strength had been scourged away.




Chains with manacles were fasten to a D-ring on the back of her


collar, then Kate's hands were cuffed most painfully into some kind


of reversed prayer and rested between her shoulder blades.


A gallows with a pulley swivelled round and lowered its hook.




One of the camera slaves succeeded an excellent shot of Kate's face


and it was presented as a close-up on the screens. So everyone


could see the cold horror in her expression when the Grand Mistress


showed her how she would be fixed to the hook.




The redheaded tormentress looped the barbed wire She hold in Her


hands three times round each breast's base. The spiked metal acted


like a chainsaw before it nestled deeply to the tit-flesh. The


crude thorns draw fresh blood, finding raw holes from the scourging


or opening new ones. Kate cried and breathed stertorously while her


maltreated breasts bulged out in a colour between pink and purple.


The rising pressure forced additional blood out of the multiple


wounds.


Between the breasts, over her sternum, the wire crossed itself a


few times and the Grand Mistress hooked the pulley's chain to this


junction. 




"Rise and shine!"




It was a sight of fascinating cruelty as the beaten woman was


slowly lifted by the pulley. She arched her slashed back into a


luscious bow and rose to her tiptoes, clenching her teeth while her


broken ribs were scratching the surrounding tissues. But the draw


at her breasts was merciless, and with a scream Kate lost contact


to the ground.




Like an answer a similar scream came from Vanessa, witnessing her


lover's ordeal. The blonde slave was now on her knees with the


Inferior Mistress holding her by her collar.




At first Kate wriggled in vain to find hold again. But when the


movement caused the barbed wire to sink deeper into her flesh she


ended her efforts. Meanwhile the pulley had stopped and the woman


dangled only two inches over the concrete surface.




Grand Mistress Gillian grabbed Kate's right lower leg, and the


suspended slave started to kick again.




"Stop struggling or I hang Vanessa to your feet by her own breasts


and pull you both off the ground!"




Her victim croaked but kept still as the seductive torturer bend


Kate's knees and bound each ankle to the matching thigh with broad


leather straps. The posture created by combination of the cruelly


bound arms and the frogtied legs gave the slightly swinging woman


something hovering.


But this ethereal lightness escaped Kate's notice as she was lifted


again. Her centre of gravity's changing now stressed her flesh even


more and she emitted a shrill cry as her mangled breasts started to


tear at the underside.


To the crowd's delight fresh blood poured on the slave's belly like


a red curtain.




The gallows turned and the howling woman was positioned over the


pole. Slowly the wire-bound victim was lowered and, stepping behind


the post, Grand Mistress Gillian parted Kate's arse cheeks to guide


the hidden entrance precisely onto the rounded tip.




The Grand Mistress had already seen that both slaves' arseholes


were sexily swollen, Vanessa's due to the irrigation of the anal


hook, Kate's by the glowing kiss of the soldering iron.


Nevertheless the barbed-wired whore in front of Her was far too


deep in tit-pain to react to her beginning rectal reaming.


The first two centimetres went in rather unnoticed, but then the


tip passed a diameter of an inch. The inner and outer sphincter


muscles reacted with pain strong enough to reach the slave's brain


and Kate tasted the first delights of dry impalement.




As the pulley's chain was given slack, the woman's own body weight


forced her mercilessly down the pole. At first slowly, then rapidly


her pain shifted from tits to arse. And once again the changing


loading of her body let her splintered ribs send red hot spears


through her flanks.


Both video screens showed simultaneously her journey back to earth.


On the left one the reached depth in the metric system was faded


in, on the right screen values in imperial measures informed about


the impalement's progress.


Being no stranger to hard backdoor abuse, Kate suppressed new


screams for the next four centimetres. But then she trembled with a


long agonised wail. Opened up to almost two inches now, her


over-violated rosette started to tear, and lubricating blood


speeded up the awful invasion.


When the first five inches had disappeared in the tight darkness of


Kate's anus, the conical tip passed over to the post's cylindrical


form.




Grand Mistress Gillian was pleased to see the wooden stake's full


thickness in action now.




"Nine centimetres across, that are about three and a half inches! I


guess she feels opened and stuffed at the same time!"




Now that the poor hole was stretched to the pole's full diameter,


the invading wood's length was responsible for Kate's further


torture.



The post soon reached the end of her ampulla recti and forced its


way into the lower part of the colon, tearing at her anorectal


junction. In a most painful act the bent tube of the colon


sigmoideum was straighten out and stretched over the pole like a


organic condom over the far too big phallus. The tortured bowels


reacted with terrible cramps which dipped the body's inside into


molten agony. Kate desperately tried to stop her movement by


pressing her bloody thighs and calves against the post but slipped


away on the even surface, again and again.




Thin rivulets of venereal fluids ran down the horrible shaft, but


inside Kate's plugged viscera a considerable amount of blood was


impregnating the smooth wood.




Twelve, then thirteen inches were displayed to the encouraging


audience. Kate breaths between her unsteady screams were stertorous


and shallow. Involuntary she inclined to the right to lessen the


ripping in her body as the post continued the occupation of her


colon descendes, which ran vertically in her left side. And still


her own weight forced the woman inexorably further onto the pole,


slower now, but also much crueller. The linings of her digestive


system stuck like rubber on the wooden invader and though the pole


was smooth, the surface felt like being covered with acid


sandpaper.


The increasing adhesion interrupted the sliding motion of Kate's


body. Now she would travel the last part by gradual jerks,


experiencing the final inches as excruciating hammer strokes.




She went down an extreme painful inch, then stopped, just to take


another one, then screamed with torn vocal chords, then received an


half inch of wood, then another half inch - and staid.




The screens showed forty-six centimetres - over eighteen inches!




Kate was maximally sodomised by the pole.




The wire was now just used to stretch her breast up for pain, so


the main part of her body weight was held by the friction between


the pole and her intestines. The post's rounded tip pressed through


the distorted entrails against her diaphragm, making the breathing


even harder. Through a red fog of agony she realised how deeply she


was impaled and this shock unleashed an inhuman, insane howl.




The crowed cheered like mad and Grand Mistress Gillian had to wait


long moments until She could begin to speak again.




"That was nice, wasn't it?"




The asking of this question was a mistake. Almost a minute of new,


exuberant cheers passed.




"Shut up, You perverts!", the Grand Mistress mocked.




Boisterous laughter.


 


"If You have liked that, then wait for our little 'Fuck The Pole'-


contest."




The public was highly pleased as the pulley tightened up the wire


and lifted the frantic slave. Kate rose some inches, then the wire


got slack and she sank down again. This entertaining horror show


was repeated a few times.


In fact Kate wasn't yet gliding up and down the pole and the pole


wasn't yet sliding in and out of her. Her "outer" body moved, but


great parts of her intestines were clung to the post. Her anal


ring was so tight around the wood that it first seemed to stay and


be ripped away from the flesh. But then it rolled over the wooden


shaft so the first centimetres of her rectal tract were turned


inside out. At the reversed motion the bloody-pink lining seemed to


be stuffed and sucked in again.




While bouncing on the disgraceful shaft, Kate had started anew to


struggle. Her useless legs were thrashing and throbbing against the


pole, then clutching it in vain. But barbed wire and gravity were


vile enemies, the metal breast-bondage was now working almost an


inch in the woman's firm meat. By now, the blood lost took its toll


and the effort of the tormented slave weakened rapidly. Soon no


stimulant in the world would make her scream again.




Grand Mistress Gillian enjoyed Kate's performance, watching her


sexy little dance of pain. She thought about increasing the


amplitude, but there was no doubt at all that this would disembowel


the slave and tear away Kate's guts from and out of her body. Even


the removal of the pole after the event would become a real


task. She let the pulley stop. Kate was left impaled, drowned in


unbelievable pain.




"Slave Kate featuring The Old-Style Pole!"




The audience, being in high spirits, applauded wildly.




Vanessa's stomach had knotted into a tight, aching ball from the


moment the pole had been revealed. She had screamed, shouted for


her lover, but her cries had been swept away by the crowd's cheers.


She had begged, but the Inferior Mistress twisted and tightened her


collar to choke her. She had tried getting to her feet but the


young sadist put the cattle prod to her beaten flesh.




At least Kate was still alive. Vanessa hoped that this was


something to be glad about.




Now it was her turn...




The Grand Mistress presented the tool She was going to use on Her


next victim, Her sinister smile curdled Vanessa's blood.




"I like to call this 'The Winder', at least till I've found a


better name for it."




The screens showed a close-up. The whole device had a phallic shape


and a length of half a metre. It consisted of a dozen of single


segments, each one a metallic cylinder of four centimetres in


diameter. They were loosely connected to each other by a steel wire


running axially through them. The cable was fixed only inside the


first segment but secured in the last one with some kind of


mechanism Vanessa soon would learn about. This characteristics made


the device quite flexible.




The enslaved Italian had to lie onto a waist high torture table


that had been brought in during Grand Mistress Gillian's last


speak. She winced when her scourged back touched the cold hardness


of the surface.




"Bind her."




The Inferior Mistress followed the order by securing Vanessa's


grazed wrists at the table's far end, stretching the arms.


Leather straps bound the slave's long legs at knees and ankles.


Vanessa then was forced to pull her knees to her chin and felt the


knee strap connected to the front ring of her collar.




Her naked and abused body was now bend double, her bum hanging


freely with the near edge of the table painfully digging into the


small of her back. Her lower legs were the only parts which were


allowed a little mobility.


Grand Mistress Gillian had thought about letting chain the blonde's


knees to her nipples and her feet to the clitoris' ring. But pain


and cramps would surely rip this valuable flesh during the


forthcoming session.




Tears had formed in Vanessa's bloodshot eyes. She felt sick with


fear. Her body hurt beyond believe, and this red-haired sadist was


already about to inflict new atrocities on her. The strain in her


neck let her croak hoarsely. It was hard to breathe in this obscene


position, with legs pressing and neck being pulled, and it would


get even harder...




The Grand Mistress had noticed her sound.




"Something to say to your fan club?"




But the blonde preferred not to speak. No word her burned mouth


could form was able to change her fate. And soon she would make her


comments anyway, with loud and hard screams.




Grand Mistress Gillian stood in front of the table, the audience to


Her left and both entrances to Vanessa's Inner Sanctum in front of


Her. Unprotected and swollen, the opening that was originally made


for one-way business only was again chosen as target.


Not a smooth wooden shaft, but the metallic coldness of the Winder


would arrange the next phase of the evening. The Grand Mistress was


the last who granted a slave any alleviation, but the sharpness of


the cylinders' edges and the way Her new toy worked made


lubrication indispensable - unless She didn't want to have fun with


Vanessa's -living- body again. So the sadistic woman poured cool


gel over Vanessa's mistreated rosette, then slipped a coated finger


up the slavegirl's arse. The beautiful blonde sucked in air with a


hissing sound and involuntary clenched her anus. Adrenaline flooded


the inner core of her being and in former times she maybe had got


sexually aroused. But certainly not yet.


The Grand Mistress bend and twisted Her gloved finger inside the


hot tightness to make the preparation as invasive and unpleasant as


possible. Finally the finger left with a vulgar "Plop".


She didn't use two or more fingers because She didn't want Her


victim to loosen up.


The Grand Mistress lubricated the heavy instrument thoroughly and


wiped Her hands with a towel.  




"Make sure you have a good angle", She told the camera slave next


to Her, then She put the Winder's tip to Vanessa's forbidden hole.


The first segment of the cold gadget wasn't cylindrical but


cone-shaped for "easy entry", and indeed the secret tunnel opened up quite nicely.


Nevertheless Vanessa uttered a sound of pain as her waste chute


was quickly stretched to a width of four centimetres. Segment after


segment found its way into her body, and soon the Winder bottomed


out in her rectum, causing very severe cramping.


But the Grand Mistress continued to press with cruel zeal and the


intruder inevitably entered the loop of the colon sigmoideum.




Unlike during Kate's ordeal, this time the invading object followed


more or less the organ's natural form, but the cylinders worked


like a rasp, even lubricated. Their edges scratched the sensitive


tissue raw while stomping heavily through the tender entrails.


Vanessa whined loudly, her guts suffering an inner burning of


unknown fierceness. The volume and weight of the metal parts inside


her viscera created the sensation of an abnormal, hellish


constipation. And still the Grand Mistress was feeding more and


more into her bowls. The sodomised girl was penetrated deeper than ever as the phallic device conquered new territory. The vehemence of her nausea was overwhelming and she vomited water and bile. The mixture, bitter and clear, ran down her chin and dripped hotly into the wounds of her chest.




The Italian's colon descendes was brutally attacked, the Winder now


describing an "S". In her body's left side this torturous


instrument forced its way towards her rib cage.




Vanessa's horrible screams were only interrupted by dry heaving.


Her bound lower legs waved like a mermaid’s fish tail, a most sexy


sight for the spectators.




Grand Mistress Gillian let Her slave struggle and listened to her


beautiful screaming-voice while finishing the intense invasion.


the terrible device was almost completely inserted into the


agonised girl, the rectal ring was tightly gripping the last


segment. The first element, however, was settled in Vanessa's colon


transversum, the part of the intestines that ran from the right to


the left, directly under the diaphragm. That was DEEP.




The Grand Mistress relished the sight of the cramping,


sweat-covered blonde, so did Her audience. But there was so much


more to come.




"That was the easy part."




She put a hand on the camera slave's shoulder to make the obedient


girl kneel. On the video screens every detail of Vanessa's stuffed


hole became visible.




"Please notice some interesting properties of this instrument",


the Grand Mistress started to explain with a meaningful voice.




"The end of the last segment is designed as a hand wheel to operate


a little winch inside. This winch tightens the steel cable on which


the segments are lined up. When the cable runs out of its slack,


the segments are pressed to each other and align with a tolerance


to the sides of two millimetres. This way the Winder looses all its


flexibility and straightens out."




Vanessa was in far too much pain to grasp the meaning of Grand


Mistress Gillian's words, but the cheering spectators turned out to


be fans of innovative techniques.




"Though all the intestines are clenching around the Winder, there


is still a little mobility."




She proofed it by twisting the end that stick out of the girl's


rectum. It resisted like being trapped in hard rubber while Vanessa


emitted a high-pitched shriek.




"To give it some extra hold, spring-loaded spikes will pop up from


the last cylinder when I do this..."




The Grand Mistress actuated a lever near the hand wheel.


Thin, sharp spikes radially pierced Vanessa's sphincter and engaged


the intruder into the stretched muscle rings.


A fresh scream, long and rough, hinted at the extreme pain that was


hitting the poor blonde.




"The spikes went in one and a half inches deep for stabilisation,


so one hand is enough for turning the hand wheel."




Although the orifice was cruelly plugged up, some blood trickled out and ran along the slave's cleft towards her back. 


The Grand Mistress caught a few drops of it with Her index finger


and wrote a red "3" onto the white, but bruised and cut skin at the


back of Vanessa's left thigh.




"Three full turns of the wheel are needed to let the Winder become


fully erect."




The picture of Vanessa's tummy was sent to the left screen by a


standing colleague of the still kneeling camera slave.


The blood-writing was just for show, but served its purpose.


The crowd wanted more.




Grand Mistress Gillian turned the wheel for ninety degrees, just to


give Her victim a taste.


The sensation of the cylinders' movement so deep inside Vanessa was


equal to getting her guts shredding by glowing razor blades.


It took long for her terrible screams to fade...




The Grand Mistress waited patiently till the blonde's brain was


able to receive fresh impressions. Only then She gave Her slave the


full first turn and painted a short vertical line onto Vanessa's


trembling right thigh.




The Italian's belly was torn apart by cramps, directly sent from


deepest hell. Her abdomen seemed to implode, the strain in her


bowels never-ending. Vanessa uttered strange noises, her vocal cords now completely damaged.




The first turn had thrown her into mind-splitting agonies which


were impossible to heighten; the second turn was ten times worse.




Even with an intact voice this sensation was "unscreamable";


the suffering blonde couldn't make it bearable by screaming the


pain out as the fierce agony paralysed her mind and lungs.


Inside her the diabolical instrument was shortening further,


dragging raw tissues with it.




The Grand Mistress draw a second bloody line parallel to the first


one and started slowly the final turn. Too fast, and Her charming


victim would end with burst entrails.




Viscera tore at their inner foundations creating severe twinges


which rapidly grew to extreme burnings. The Winder straightened out


almost all parts of Vanessa's colon. It rearranged her stretched


intestines in worst ways, digestive organs were forced into places


and positions they never belong to or made for.


The savage tip pressed unbearably against the blonde's diaphragm,


her breathing broke down almost completely. Under pain from the


outside she had always tried to imagine curling up deep inside her


core, but with this THING literally and proverbially sticking in


her innermost being, there was no refuge left from pain.


Her mind cracked and she wasn't herself anymore.




Three red lines were clearly visible on her right thigh's back.


The bloodthirsty crowd cheered frenetically.




"Slavegirl Vanessa versus The Winder!" 




Grand Mistress Gillian loosened the knee strap from the Italian's


collar and guided her still bound legs carefully down, making sure


not to rupture the raped entrails. It was one of Her cachet not to


unintentionally loose any victims under Her tortures. She checked


Vanessa's respiration. It was flat but stable. Some drool ran from


the slave's slightly opened mouth, her once beautiful face was


frozen to a dreadful mask of pain.


The blonde bitch's eyes had glazed over and Grand Mistress Gillian


knew that She had made a good work.








SPITTING AMY






She had given the audience some five minutes to cool down again,


then the Grand Mistress demanded silence once more.




"For the Heaven's Gate Exhibition's Grand Finale we are glad to


welcome one of our most skilful friends. Back from Japan, the


homeland of erotic bondage and sexual perversions: Konichiwa,


Master Nathan!"




Respectful ovations.




Master Nathan entered the stage, followed by two slavegirls.


The first was a slavemaid holding some long devices, wrapped in


black velvet, in her right hand and a silver chain in her left.


The sparkling metal band ran to the expensive patent leather collar


of the other girl, the star of the forthcoming performance.




While their Master was welcomed by the Grand Mistress, this time


officially, the slavemaid placed her load on a marked spot on the


stage and let her fellow sink onto her knees. Then she unfasten the


gleaming collar and kneeled, too, but some metres away in the


background.




The Master spoke some dutiful words about His informative journey


into the mystic East, but was evidently endeavoured to start His


show.




So Grand Mistress Gillian ring in the next round.




"And who’s this lovely piece of tit-meat?"




This was the question He had waited for.




"Sweet Amy here would like to assist me in a little bonus


impalement."




Looking at the two massively penetrated women still serving as


decoration, He added:




"But You have already set standards. I see You've given them what


they deserved."




"No matter what they were given, they deserve worse. Every time


slaves scream 'No!' under torture, they deny their reason for


existence."




"True words! But it's unbelievable that both are still alive!


My heroines tend to die from their awful experiences, as, no doubt,


should yours."




The Grand Mistress chatted with Master Nathan like during a walk in


the park while both headed for the kneeling Amy.




"I like them breathing and suffering."   




"Nevertheless I consider taking my victim ALL the way to be the


ultimate turn-on. Watching a sweet slavegirl giving herself up to


the horrors of death for her Master. Like Edgar Allan Poe wrote:




'The death then of a beautiful woman is unquestionably the most


poetical topic in the world.'




But beyond all this likings: what we wish to do to them we do, and


granting no mercy."




"Quoth the Raven 'Nevermore!'", the Grand Mistress cited.




Master Nathan kneeled next to His cute victim-to-be who had heard


Her Master's statement but kept absolutely still. Amy was a truly


beautiful slave. Her face reminded of the young Cindy Crawford's


one's, but was more oval and fitted with slightly more massive


cheekbones. She had been told to empty and clean herself


thoroughly, so her hazel-coloured hair was still slightly wet and


appeared darker than it actually was.




The black-dressed man opened the velvety bundle and brought some


chrome-plated objects to light.




The first one was a broad metal collar that went firmly around


Amy's slender neck.




"Spread your arms, horizontally."




She obediently stretched her arms away from her tasty body, and the


Master fixed a one and a half metres long bar to them. Metal cuffs


were closed around both wrists and both upper arms near the elbows.


A lock in the middle of the bar was connected with no slack to the


back of Amy's collar. Her shoulders, arms and neck were effectively


trapped now. In the glaring spotlights the chrome, contrasting with


her pale skin, seemed to be a sparkling liquid.




Master Nathan took a second bar and slid it between Amy's closed


lower legs, so the far end was maybe thirty centimetres in front of


her on the ground. Around her ankles, then around the legs below


her knees He cuffed His slavegirl to the chrome rod.




"Forehead to the ground."




Again she obeyed and her Master propped up her torso so she


wouldn't fall over uncontrollably. With her head resting on the


cold floor, Amy heard the metallic click as the rod's end was


fasten to her collar's front. Finally two chains, one from each end


of the arms' bar, were tighten and fixed to rings in the ground, so


the slavegirl couldn't roll to a side.


Amy was in the ideal position: so helpless, so open.




Master Nathan motioned the Grand Mistress to inspect the slave's


revealed advantages. Over the hairless slit of Amy's womanhood


Grand Mistress Gillian discovered one of the smallest, cutest anal


openings She had seen. With its tightness and light shade of pink


it looked deliciously. No hole had ever appeared more virgin to Her


than this one.




"If I don't know it better, I would tell she didn't ever have a


bowel movement in her whole life. Are You sure this tiny hole is


even able to open up?"




"If not, we'll help."




The Master took the last bar from the floor and examined the


pointed tip. As the other bars were, this one was made of


chrome-plated steel with a round cross section of one inch in


diameter. But it was one metre long, had the sharp tip on one end


and no visible features disturbing its smoothness.


 


Amy seemed to have a rough idea about what she was in for, so the


Grand Mistress decided to play with her, just a little bit. Without


resting the sole of Her boot on the girl's coccyx, She dipped Her


right heel some millimetres into nervously pulsating arsehole.  


The wonderfully submissive slave cringed and shrieked, not knowing


what was touching her. The audience roared with laughter.




"Grand Mistress, please!", Master Nathan mocked.




She stepped back and pretended to sulk.




The Master went to one knee at the girl's left side, so He didn't


block the audience's view. Holding the spit, and nothing else the


third bar was, with His right hand, He guided the sharp end to


Amy's unprepared arsehole, teasing the sexy opening with the tip.


This elicited a breathed moan, and one last time the slave's anus


got a pause while Master Nathan applied antiseptic lubricant to the


chrome surface. Then, carefully, but rather fast, He gave Amy the


first six centimetres of the spit. She gasped at the sudden


invasion, but reacted surprisingly calmly.




"Yes, that's my good girl! Just stay relaxed."




He leisurely let seven more centimetres of the bar glide into her,


and the tip reached the end of Amy's rectal cavern.


The feeling of the metal sliding deeper and deeper made her sick


and, as the rod hit ground in her rectum, a hot pain flashed


through her abdomen.




"Oouuhh!"




The pointed tip scratched the tender tissues till it found enough


grip to settle and tear. The poor hazel-haired slave squealed even


more when she assessed the feeling in her guts.




"Please, Master, not deeper!"




But the spit went deeper. It mercilessly bore into the soft lining


of her rectum, stretching, then ripping.




"OOUUUHHHH! PLEASE, NO MORE!"




"Shhh, I know you can be a brave girl for your Master. Now don't


scream any more, or I have to punish you afterwards."




Then the tip broke through the rectal wall and reached the inner


package of Amy's small intestine.




"AAAAAAAARRGGGGGHHHHH!"




She tried to wriggle away, but her metal bondage was awfully


effective and allowed just the slightest bit of movement.


Furthermore Master Nathan had grabbed the screaming slave, feeling


the tip inside her with His left hand on her belly, while guiding


the spit deeper and deeper with the other one. He incessantly


repositioned her body in details and making sure that she was


ruptured at the right places. He had to lead the thin pole along


her spine in a certain angle so the metal could be driven through


her whole body.




"Hold your chest a little bit lower, dear."




The young woman in pain just rolled her head on the floor, giving


no sign that she had heard or understood her Master.




He addressed her with a strict voice:




"Amy, Do As I Said! You'll cause yourself much unnecessary pain if


you obstruct a clean spitting. And you'll shame me in front of all


these people. Do you want to do that?"




"Arghnn..."




"Do you want to shame your Master, Amy?"




"Nn...No, Mmmmas-terrr!"




The pain in her guts was horrible, like someone had cut open her


tummy and had stuffed her whole viscera in a mixer. But she wasn't


yet in so severe agony to not obey her beloved owner. She just had


to try really hard. So Amy's submissive mind forced her nearly


ruined body into a better angle for advanced slave-spitting.




The bar continued its fatal journey into unexplored depths,


multiply piercing the girl's ileum and jejunum.




The chains rattled as the slave, now in real agony, fought


furiously against her bondage and her pain. But this outburst


didn't last long. When her cramping anus swallowed the fortieth


centimetre and the spit had violated all parts of her entrails,


she wasn't able to do any movement that wouldn't tear her innards


completely. It was unbelievable that Amy had so much air in her


lungs, but when the metal bored through her colon transversum and


into her empty stomach, she started to howl and couldn't stop for


minutes.




The terrible bar was now stuck too deep to be moved without


violence, and besides the spitting had reached a very tricky point.


Further penetration in a wrong angle could damage the diaphragm,


what would mean suffocation to Amy.




Once more the pulley was brought into action as it was positioned


right over the noisy slavegirl. The chains at the ends of the arms'


bar were detached from the rings in the ground and hooked to the


pulley. Master Nathan disconnected the legs' bar from Amy's collar,


then released her ankles and knees from their bondage. He put the


metal construction to the side, not binding the slave's legs in any


other fashion.


The pulley started up, and Amy had to rise her upper body. 


But when her abdomen changed its angle to her thighs during this


motion, cramps from vicious intensity stroke through her body. So


she despairingly held her practically useless legs in the same


position they had been during the first phase of her spitting.


Master Nathan, of course, had knew about this reaction and that He


didn't have to tie Amy's legs again. Since still half a metre of


the spit projected sexily from her rear, her bowels would be


leveraged by the impaling bar touching the ground. Because Amy's


legs couldn't avoid this contact, her Master would ensure adequate


substitute.


Saucily He grabbed His slender slave under her bottom cheeks and


lifted her lower body as the pulley raised her shoulders. Little by


little He lagged behind, more stabilising than lifting, until Amy


hung upright at the chains, the spit's free end some inches above


the floor. In this very place a steel-reinforced drill hole was


located in the concrete.


Slowly, and very carefully, the bar's end was inserted for about


ten centimetres into the ground. Amy's body had to shifted somewhat


as the spit was now exactly vertical. Like the lifting the slave


endured this without too much screaming, but with her angled legs


still twitching. She was now in a grotesque and strangely distorted


crucifixion posture, facing the amused audience.


Master Nathan stepped in front of her.




"Grand Mistress, would You like to assist me?"




"Of course, as long as You don't have an assistance like Amy's in


mind for me."




She went to Her friend and His panting and wincing slavegirl.




"Would You please stand behind her and hold the arms' bar from the


underside?", He asked Her.




Grand Mistress Gillian got close to Amy's sweat-covered body and


spread Her arms like the girl in front of Her. She supported the


bar with Her palms while Master Nathan detached the chains from


the ends.




"Yes! Just like that. A lot of her weight can be carried by the


spit inside her."




Indeed Grand Mistress Gillian didn't have any difficulties to hold


up the unlucky victim.




The Master gave a sign and the pulley moved away together with all


chains. He passed His hand over His musketeer beard and prepared


His next step in His mind.


Master Nathan put both His hands onto Amy's upper belly, searching


and finding the spit's tip. Still in her stomach; perfect!




"Now, please let her down. Slowly!"




The Grand Mistress just had to put less force to the bar, and Amy


glided down gracefully.




"Stop!...Further...further..."




The work of His sensing hands was caught by one of the camera slaves for the big screen. Again and again Master Nathan changed


His slave's posture in details between and during the glides.




"Stop!...Now VERY SLOWLY further!"




Grand Mistress Gillian was about to feel ridiculous, but then She


felt the trembling of Amy increase dramatically. She slightly


pressed Herself against the slave's body to absorb this powerful


sensation. The tip had touched the cardia, where the oesophagus


lead to the stomach - the only point where the spit could enter the


upper body without puncturing the diaphragm.


The pointed metal forced its way into the tight muscle tube, driven


by Amy's own body weight. Once again an organ was brutally stretched from its inside and straightened out by an instrument of untold torment. The spit passed her pounding heart in a safe distance, never leaving its natural passage. Amy felt the unbearable pain rose higher and higher, a bursting, ripping pain in the central axis of her thorax. Not only the intensity of the pain was torturous. Though the Grand Mistress didn't let her down very fast, the agony's source seemed to race towards her head. Amy tried to scream out her pain and her desperation, but her throat hardened in some kind of cramp. Instead she suddenly had the tremendous urge to swallow, to swallow again and again.




With an expression of dismay and absolute disbelieve on her face


Amy bend her head backwards, her quivering lips parted. Her throat


seemed to swell, and then the spit's bloody tip emerged from her


mouth.




The audience freaked out.




The slave slid further down until her bottom rested on the ground,


the spit jutting out ten centimetres from her mouth. Grand Mistress


Gillian, still standing behind her, kissed Amy onto her forehead.




Master Nathan took a moisten cloth and cleaned the tip thoroughly,


paying special attention that none of the breathing holes were


stuffed.


Still able to breathe and with most of her organs intact, the young


woman was being held at the edge of snuff. The spitting had caused


internal bleedings, but due to the seal of her virgin anus she was


sitting in just a small puddle of blood.


The experience of this ultimate arse fuck had left the victim in


some kind of shock; not accessible or being able any more to


respond to normal stimuli.




Grand Mistress Gillian was fascinated by this deepest penetration


possible.




"A new meaning for arse-to-mouth!"




For some reasons poor Amy couldn't laugh about this joke at her


expense.




Now Master Nathan wanted to proof that His slave was still useful


after her ultimate arse fuck. From His arsenal He took a chrome


ball with a diameter of two inches and an inch-wide hole through


it. He sat the metal sphere onto the spit's tip and it glided


perfectly along the shaft, right into Amy's mouth. At least, it


glided into her mouth after her Master had forced her jaws open.


But then a metallic click was audible, and the chrome gag was


locked securely to the spit, filling Amy's oral cavern most nicely.




"Spitted like this, with both ends of the spit fixed by muscle


structures, our lovely guest can't rip herself to death anymore, no


matter how hard she struggles and strains."




He gave a sign to His slavemaid and she approached holding a silver


tray she had prepared just a minute before. She kneeled next to her


master and presented Him the tray and the objects on it with both


outstretched arms. He ran His hands over Amy's trembling breasts,


and despite all the sufferings her nipples got stiff. Master Nathan


took the heatproof gloves from the silver plate and put them on


while a camera slave caught the two other devices on the tray.


Dully glowing clamps lay on the mirroring surface. He took one in


each hand and simultaneously applied them to Amy's nipples. A


hissing, first from cold sweat, then from branded skin filled the


microphones, immediately drowned out by the spitted slave's barely


muffled screams. Her whole body vibrated on the metal pole in pain


impossible to bear. Almost half a minute Master Nathan let the


flesh of her tit-tips be eaten away by the heat before He took the


clamps off. Amy was out of her mind and continued screaming as the


agony dug into her globes. The Master waited till her frantic


thrashing subsided to hysterical sobs.




"I think she's waked up now."




He called His slavemaid, who had put away gloves, clamps and tray.




"Show the audience that you two are still friends though you've


prepared those nasty clamps. Give her a kiss!"




The slavemaid stepped to Amy and lowered her head, unsure how to


fulfil her Master's order.




"With tongue, please!"




She started French kissing Amy, taking the spit's tip deep into her


mouth until she reached the slowly dying girl's metal-ball stretched


lips. The gag reflex was strong as the slavemaid deep-throated the


chrome pole.




Master Nathan smiled at this sexy scene. It was always time for a


little lezzie action.




"Okay, that's enough, you two turtledoves."




He sent His slavemaid away to kneel again in the background.


There was still something at Amy's posture that didn't please Him.


Her rump was fixed, as were her head and arms. But her legs...




Luckily Master Nathan had still some unused items. He buckled flat


metal straps around each of the slave's big toes, then raised her 


long legs, straightening them and forcing Amy literally to bend


double. She shrieked most miserably from this newly stressing of


her abdomen and the tearing sensation in her hamstrings. Finally


her feet came into view of her upturned face.


Again a metal click - and her feet's bondage was locked to the tip


of the spit. Now the steel-gagged slave was folded in the middle, her slender legs parallel to her maltreated body, toes seductively


pointed. Her whole weight was resting on her bottom and on the pole


through her arsehole.




Grand Mistress Gillian was curious about Amy's extreme fixing.




"Can You turn her?"




"I don't think so. But give it a try!"




With one hand She used the arms' bar as a lever and pushed against


its end. Under intense screaming Amy started rotating around the


spit for some degrees. But her body offered surprisingly high


resistant due to the friction and sticking of her innards. The


Grand Mistress let go of the bar, and the tension in the slave's


tissues turned her back.




"A quarter of a turn, and her entrails would rip...", Grand


Mistress Gillian considered. "But You said her other fidgets


wouldn't speed up her dying?"




This question was just a peg to hang Master Nathan's next


performance on.




"Exactly. And to proof this I would like to introduce a special


feature. As You...", He was addressing the spectators, "... can see


on the screen, the spit is locked in a metallic holding device."




A camera slave hurried to make a close-up.




"But this isn't just a holding device, but also a heating element."




Whistles and cruel suggestions for the temperature cascaded from


the audience.




Master Nathan raised His arms in a placating gesture.




"No need to heat it up to some hundreds degrees like during a


classical burn-fuck. A temperature of 50°C touches the pain limit


on skin, so it already smarts in a tender back hole. But since our


Amy is a healthy young girl, I think 60°C are okay."




He kneeled next to the spit and its charming load and adjusted the


heating element.




"Instead of being cooked to death in horrible minutes, she'll


squirm nicely for hours and hours - if we let her."




While waiting for the spit to heat up, Master Nathan took His last


item. With force, He let the flexible steel whip cut the air.




"Your punishment for screaming without permission is still pending.


I decide ten lashes to be suitable, and since your feet are in the


right height..."




He laid into both her soles with the dreadful instrument. Ghastly


pain erupted in Amy, strong enough to be suffered in her


agony-filled mind. She shrilly screeched into her cruel ball gag


and Her Master waited to let her relish the full effect of the


stroke. Only when her shrieks had subsided, He gave her the second


lash. This one, like all others to follow, opened a awful gash on


each of Amy's tender soles. She pulled like mad at her bondage, the


metal bands around her toes cutting her flesh deeply. Again the


whip whistled through the air.




The audience counted boisterously, and as the "Ten" was reached,


blood was running freely from Amy's slashed soles over her calves


and thighs.




Master Nathan, putting the bloody whip away, was glad that He had


gagged His pretty victim. Still she was crying earsplittingly.


Just to make sure she wouldn't miss any of her torments, He set the


heating element to 70°C.








LOTTERY LUCK






Three impaled girls, all bleeding and suffering, were embellishing


the stage. The work of this final night was nearly done.


But one more part was ahead, and that was why Grand Mistress


Gillian couldn't dismiss Master Nathan yet.




"I need You to hand over the prize to the winner of our lottery."




He pretended ignorance:




"Oh, and what could this prize be?"




"The winner of this year's Heaven's Gate Lottery gets a free


session with Amy in our operation theatre!"




"Oh, and surely we have provided enough anaesthetics?"




"Ssss..., I fear, that's the weak point..."




Laughers from the spectators. Many of them had an obsession for


useless, but painful operations.




For the drawing of the winning lot's number something special had


been prepared. A buxom, redheaded slavegirl entered the stage and


was led by the Grand Mistress to a spot in the middle. The


green-eyed female had been forced into an extreme corset, the


circumference of her waist now only twenty inches. Her full


breasts, bulging out over the edge of the black rubber, appeared


grotesquely huge. With her arms trapped up to the back-bend


shoulders in the cruel tightness of a mono-glove, they stuck out


even more. And they sagged. Not by their own weight, but by the


load hanging on the one-inch nipple rings. A big, flat,


half-transparent LCD-display was stretching the voluptuous slave's


flesh. The outfit was completed by a huge, black-shining ball gag


with chrome studs. Someone had definitely dislocated her jaw to put


this torturous device in place.




Grand Mistress Gillian pushed the buxom beauty to her knees,


letting her face the audience.




"Lovely Lindsay here is eager to help me finding the winner. Soon


the numbers of all lots will run at random on this nicely carried


display. A special trigger will stop the counter, and the lucky


girl or boy with the corresponded lot will get the chance to rescue


Amy and to become her heroine or hero."  




She pointed at the squirming carcass. Amy was now fully suffering


the stinging pain of the hot spit running through her whole body.


Though the metal wasn't hot enough to actually burn her innards, it


was hot enough to damage the sticking tissues and to send the


crazed slave into slow agony. And there was just one possibility to


escape her multiple torments from spitting, branding, whipping and


heating...




The special trigger Grand Mistress Gillian had mentioned was


integrated into Lindsay's stiff fetish corset. A battery, two


electrodes and a sensor which could detect amperage were molten into the rubber. The Grand Mistress reached between the kneeling


Lindsay's legs and connected a thin, short steel cable to the


slave's clitoris ring. The tightened cable was linked up with an


electric source hidden in the ground directly under the


spike-gagged slave, setting the girl's body under a not too high


voltage. Since Lindsay knelt on concrete, she was insulated, and no


current flew through her body back into the ground. The battery in


her corset worked with exactly the same voltage as the source in


the ground, 10 volts. The two electrodes, anode and cathode, were


pressed onto Lindsay's skin at different places, with no contact to


each other but the slave's body itself. The anode was directly


connected to the battery's (technical) negative pole by wire, the


cathode's wire ran first through the sensor, then to the battery's


positive pole. As long as the green-eyed girl was connected to the


cable, a harmless current of some milliamperes ran from clit to the


corset’s anode and to the battery's "-"-pole, but not between the


battery's "+"-pole and cathode due to the equal voltage level on


both sides. If the body-voltage vanished by removing the


clit-cable, this equality would disappear. The cathode would led a


current into the body, through the anode and to the negative


battery pole. This current could be detected by the sensor between


battery and cathode and formed into a trigger signal for the


counter.




That was the theory; the reality would be far more bloody...




Although Lindsay pressed her thighs to her calves to ease the strain on her clitoris, the steel cable was tight and without any slack. Her shaven pussy wasn't more than twelve centimetres away from the floor.




The Grand Mistress turned on the display and started the counter.


Numbers in an opaque colour flashed over the plane surface,


transmitted to the video screens by the camera slaves.


As smart the circuitry for the trigger was, as simple was the item


for motivating the busty slave to cooperate. Grand Mistress Gillian


pushed a burning tea candle between Lindsay's legs.




The slave gave a lasting howl through her permanently gagged mouth


as the cruel little flame licked her labia like a true lover.


Instinctively she tried to rise, but the steel cable didn't let her


clitoris ring go. Pain raced through her nerve-rich flesh, but she


had no choice: the fire burned Lindsay's already blistering vulva


without mercy, sending the redhead into terrible agony. Again, now


in blinding panic, she tensed her leg's muscles. She rose some


centimetres, her clit-hole not tearing, just widening. But that


wasn't nearly enough to escape the greedy heat. Lindsay fell back,


her luscious arse again at her heels. She screamed louder than


ever, then tightened the muscles of her thighs and took a leap


straight upwards. Her final shriek even outdid her last one as


Lindsay landed on her left side and writhed on the ground in agony,


blood pouring from the mutilated organ between her clenched legs.


The heavy display scratched over the floor, the steel cable, with


clitoris ring and shreds of flesh, lay where the crying girl had


kneeled.




Grand Mistress Gillian twisted Her hand into the red hair of the


bleeding slave and dragged her into a kneeling position again.




Most luckily for Lindsay, the display was still intact.




"We have a winner! May the owner of the lot with the number '073'


please enter the stage to accept Her or His prize!"




The spectators did what they had done the whole night long:


They cheered and whistled.




A Master in His late forties, dressed in casual black, found His


way onto the stage, troubled not to step into the bloody trail


Lindsay created as she was led away by a slavemaid.


The winner gave Grand Mistress Gillian a kiss on Her hand, then let


Master Nathan show Him His prize up close.




For poor Amy, there were good news and bad news.


The good news were that her winner was a former surgeon.


The bad news were that He was highly addicted to morphine.


The good news were that He had just consumed the right dose to have


a steady hand.


The very bad news were that He was in the mood for slicing


girl-meat with a scalpel.








AFTERMATH






Vanessa, who was at this time still tasting hell's torments, but


again owner of her senses, noticed Amy being taken away to her


rendezvous with the Doctor.




"That could have been me...", flashed through her shattered brain.




She didn't know how much time had passed since then as she heard


the voice of Inferior Mistress Zoë.




"This could hurt...", She said and started to remove the Winder.




And it Did hurt...




It took them over half an hour to pull Kate's barely living body


from the pole, not using the barbed wire any more. The Grand


Mistress had supervised the de-impaling of both Kate and Vanessa,


but seeing that She had trained Her team well, She had left after


ten minutes to the operation theatre. As a member of the Inner


Circle She owned the privilege to witness the good Doctor's work.




The operation theatre was a re-build of one of those old anatomical


lecture halls, where in former times the students of medicine


watched the professor from concentric terraces. Now these places


were being filled by the Mistresses and Masters of the Inner Circle


and down in the middle a huskily screaming Amy lay on a surgical


table. Two guests had volunteered to assist the Doctor. One of them


was heating up the spit with a soldering lamp to cauterise the


uncounted wounds inside the girl's body. The slave rewarded him for


this selfless effort with a cascade of cries.


Then the Doctor Himself entered the theatre, holding His gloved,


sterilised hands up shoulder high to avoid contact with any unclean


objects. His moth, nose and hair were covered, just like in His old


days as a surgeon. Not that sterility was necessary today;


His sexy patient wasn't going to die by an infection.




For the first twenty minutes Amy hold out bravely, strapped to the


cold steel table. A spider gag replacing the chrome ball allowed


her hoarse voice to blossom as the spit was professionally and most


carefully removed. But the following vivisection that she was also


forced to endure without the mercy of anaesthesia...let's say that


neither the procedure nor the result would ever be found in a


medical handbook...




After receiving rudimentary medical attention from someone more


caring than the good Doctor, Vanessa and Kate were more dragged


than walked to the black van. Michelle was already lying inside the


car, being unconscious or sleeping. She was still bridled and


bit-gagged, her hands bound with hinged police handcuffs, palms


facing outwards. The Novice headed towards the driver's door.


Inferior Mistress Zoë and the Whip Mistress stuffed Kate's and


Vanessa's bleeding arses with lubricated plugs and their sobbing


mouths with standard 2-inch ball gags. Finally the pain-weakened


slavegirls were put into simple hogties and fitted with leather


hoods. Both blondes were laid onto their beaten bellies into the


Viano, and again Kate was suffering harder due to her broken ribs.




They had arrived in this storehouse the first time eight hours ago,


but it had been an eternity for Vanessa. As the van left the old


building the sun was rising in an unnatural red.




Before in some hours most of the torture equipment would be


dismantled by workers and sent to their owners, the Heaven's Gate


Exhibition ended with sexual excesses among Mistresses, Masters and


remaining slaves. This orgy was a mirror for the last days'


perversions but not bound to any organisational limits. And in this


boundless blast of pain and hard sex Grand Mistress Gillian finally


allowed Master Nathan to rape Her with His tongue to an incredible


orgasm.








EPILOGUE






Torture instruments, unnameable for normal human being, filled the


dimly lit room. The air was cool but humid with sweat of fear.


Vanessa was standing naked in the middle, hands clasped behind her


head, the Grand Mistress encircling her with a cruel look in Her


eyes. The Italian's beautiful body still showed the brutal traces


of her ordeals at the Heaven's Gate Exhibition.   




"You may speak, slave."




"Grand Mistress, this slavegirl knows that it will most likely face


additional, well-deserved tortures for its question, but what did


Grand Mistress say to the two police men?"




Grand Mistress Gillian smiled wickedly while She pulled a red hot


poker from the nearby brazier.




"Bend over and grab your ankles. I'll work over your pussy and


arsehole with this until it's cooled down, then I'll tell you.


Stay conscious, and you will know..."








                              END




















                       SPECIAL THANKS TO:












                    Mercedes-Benz of Germany




                  Jaguar Cars Limited Coventry




























Quotation:    E. A. Poe: THE PHILOSOPHY OF COMPOSITION, 1846


              E. A. Poe: THE RAVEN, 1845
































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