tdh19882012
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Mar 17, 2017
- Messages
- 104
- Points
- 18
***
The woollen bag lurched and leapt around on the cushioned ground as if the contents were being electrocuted. It rolled around awkwardly and desperately, the feet end kicking into the floor and the head thrashing this way and that. The knuckles of anguished hands could be seen just above waist level, so too the fingers clawing in a frenzy at what little wool they could actually get some purchase on.
Woven around this desperate figure were leather belts. The metallic jangling of miniature padlocks against buckles provided an almost soothing melody to accompany the tortured, panicked screams of the damned which flew around the room. They bounced between the layers of thick padding shielding every hard surface in there and sealing this dreadful prison cell away from the rest of the world.
Sitting down against the door to this room in the calm and tranquillity of one of the Club's basement corridors was Black. She took a long drag from her vape and took another look at the clock, raising her eyebrows as her free hand moved in tight circular motions down between her thighs. She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly and filling the area with a dense, fruity fog.
She heard footsteps approach, they were slow and sounded careful.
“Blue...” Came the exasperated sigh. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Blue looked up from her and to the door.
“What have you got in there?”
“Fuck yourself.” She blew an even thicker cloud in his direction.
“You should really give that up, you know.” He looked up at the clock, impatiently. “How long have you been down here?”
Black looked at him, he waited with mounting frustration as she inhaled what was surely enough for two or even three sets of lungs.
“Black!” He shouted at her.
She stared at him as she breathed out slowly, gradually forming an O with her lips. She had a curious look on her face. Checking the time, Black replied.
“So, could she taste me? On you? You never did tell-”
Immediately he was standing over her, his leather shoe kicked into her Converse as he reached down and grabbed her hair, yanking her head to one side. He knelt, his face so close she could smell the wine on his breath.
“Three weeks, Black.” He spat her name out, some of it hit her cheek.
“Three weeks and we can see about doing something for this perpetual fucking attitude you have.” At the mention of her upcoming Term Renewal, Black's curious demeanour dissolved.
To be replaced with one of amusement.
“And five weeks”, she whispered with a beaming smile, “until I can see about reminding you... Of just what you're missing out on.” His grip on her weakened a little. She leaned in to kiss him, his eyes widened slightly but he moved in too, closing his eyes.
His kiss landed against her fingers. They covered her mouth and they smelt... Familiar. The anger he felt upon opening his eyes to see her grinning face laughing at him was almost too much to bear. He let go of her hair and stood up, covering his crotch as subtly as he possibly could.
“Five weeks,” she laughed, “until I get to fuck your marriage up. Again.”
Blue had been at the Club for a number of years and tragically his Term Renewal date fell on the eve of his wedding day. Explaining to a frustrated wife why he was barely able to perform on his wedding night had taken a lot of creativity. And every year for the remainder of his membership, a Renewal would be held the very night before the happy couple's anniversary.
“And this time, no amount of hot water will be able to wash me away.” She giggled at the bulge in his trousers and winked. The vape returned to her highly amused lips. Black's eyes twinkled and he caught a rare sighting of her dimples.*She really is beautiful when she smiles.
“You fucked nothing up, Black-”
“-Except for the biggest night of your wife's life, Blue.”
She slipped a finger into the heel of her shoe and began to ease it away from her foot. Blue watched as her soft, peachy heel slowly emerged. His wedding day had been plagued by the memory of those feet.
“I've been on my feet all day.” She said in mock upset. “Would you like to rub them for me?”
He walked away. As expected, this had been a mistake.
“My regards to Mrs. Blue.” She shouted after him amidst the swirling fog.
“And mine to your fingers, bitch.” He called back, raising his middle one at her.*Why? Why do it to yourself?*He cursed his own stupidity. Black was a drug and ever since that fateful evening during his Renewal he had been hooked.
Black watched him leave and her grin gradually faded. She looked up to the clock again.
Getting up onto her knees she carefully grabbed hold of the doors lever. Pulling it down and taking a deep breath, she slowly opened it and peered around into the pitch darkness. It was quiet. An almost unnerving quiet, she could hear her ears ringing slightly.
What the fuck...?*She could neither see nor hear anything, at all. She looked around up and down the corridor. Nobody there. Absolutely no sound in the basement.
Holy shit!*She leapt backwards and just caught a shocked scream in her throat from escaping as the head end of that white woollen bag fell into view, twitching and gurgling like something out of a horror movie in the doorway. Black's hand was clasped over her mouth and her face wrinkled up as she laughed quietly and hysterically, thanking God that there was no CCTV down here.
She eventually calmed down enough to recognise that the figure inside the bag was trying to speak.
Black sat up, wiping a tear from her eye and shuffled on her knees towards the head. She unbuttoned the flap, exposing the unfortunate victim's mouth and nose. The screams had clearly died down a little while ago much to her disappointment. Still, the twitching, the shaking voice and the damp staining around the bag's crotch were plenty to get things flowing...
Black hiked her dress up a little and her hand nestled back down inside of her knickers. She tucked her hair behind her ear and leant in the direction of the drooling mouth. The teeth chattered and for a while all she could hear was that and pained grunting. Black's hand began to move faster as the voice finally spoke.
“I g- … I... I get- get it.” She watched the mouth splutter out those few words before the teeth grit tight once again and an agonised growl was forced through them.
“Let me out!” The words were rapidly fired out. Black's lips parted and her breathing quickened, the desperation in a voice got her every time.
“LET ME OUT!” Black's ears rang once more.
The head rocked back and forth, slamming itself over and over into the soft padding of the floor, Black felt the force of it through her knees. The growling became a whine, its pitch increasing by the second and Black's hand was a whirlwind between her legs as the screams and the electrified thrashing resumed in all their glory.
She came hard and couldn't help but add her own throaty squeal to the horrifying cacophony in that cell. She removed her hand and wiped it dry on the bag before standing, steadying herself with one hand on a wall while the soft ground near her feet shook under her crazed prisoner.
With one last look at the epitome of insane desperation, Black filled the room with her fruity fog and shut the door. She grabbed her handbag and retrieved a tub of yellow cream and her marker pen.
She thought back to events over the past two hours as she held the heavy tub in front of her.*Yeah, I'd say it got her approval.*She ticked the box on the label which read “Approved” and initialled it “B”. Reading the label, she smiled at the way words like “Experimental”, “Extreme Caution” and “Itching” were all used in the same sentence.
Another look at the clock told her, rudely, that she had just fifteen minutes left before the padded room was booked for use by another member. Black squeezed her thighs together and tapped her feet on the floor restlessly.
The tingling between her legs just wouldn't quit today.*Oh, once more. Fuck it.*She leapt to her feet and pulled the door open fully, locking it onto the safety catch to ensure she didn't shut herself in there with the lunatic.
The bag was kneeling in the corner of the room alternating screeches with haggard wheezing. Black pulled it onto it's back and it wailed in excruciating misery as it hit the floor and was pinned in place beneath Black's hot and slippery pussy.
Black ground herself backwards and forwards against the quivering mouth of her frenzied captive and leant forward, supporting herself against the wool covered breasts. She felt the heartbeat pounding through her left palm.
And the basement corridors exploded into a symphony of screams.
***
“Ooo, that was a close one! Hold it, hold it! Don't you fucking dare.”
Pink commanded her near delirious slave with a sweet yet authoritarian tone. He had been trapped down here for the better part of three hours now. Trapped inside Pink's paradise, a place where men were brought but would never... Arrive.
“Breathe, breathe, breathe, yes that's good. Oh you're doing so well!”
She smiled at her slave as she gripped his shaft, holding it tight at the base to expose his entire tip and carefully massaged his frenulum with her thumb.
He was utterly beside himself, desperate to thrust upwards from the chair he was bound to and into her hand. Thick leather straps around his thighs prevented any such action, as the ones binding his arms to those of the chair prevented his hands from grabbing at himself to finish the job.
How he wished to be able to do exactly that. It was all he had thought about for as long as he could remember. When not strapped in for another night of the most hellishly pleasurable torment known to man, Pink locked him away in chastity. After several weeks she had found to her amusement that while the device prevented him masturbating himself into oblivion, it apparently did not stop wet dreams.
Not that such dreams appeared to help him out in any way, he still lived in a state of constant arousal. Extreme arousal which was now being stoked to infernal levels with little more than Pink's thumb. He was a wreck, physically and emotionally.
It was getting harder and harder for Pink to coax any type of response from him these days. She had noted how lethargic and generally uninterested his worship of her had become. During their first few days together they had practically been 18 again, he could not get enough of her despite the brutal edging he endured and she was fascinated with his body and his reactions to her every touch.
Now though... Not so much. All he did was weep at the sight of her. He became hard almost immediately, visibly pulsating with lust and she had to be damned careful to not set him off. Even this thumb play was clearly too much for him to cope with.
It lurched in her hands and she immediately let go and watched it twitch. Her slave was a vision of frustrated torment. Both he and his diabolically denied cock literally cried out for attention. Pink frowned at his cock, but she was at least pleased that those tears were clear and not white ones flying into her face.
“Now... That was too close, wasn't it?”
He wept. Pink stood up before him, clad in nothing but tiny beige tartan shorts and thick bed socks complete with eyes and whiskers.
“Much, much too close. Do we think somebody needs to cool off a little?”
He wept some more. She lifted her leg and he watched her pull the long, thick sock from just below her knee down to her ankle.
“Oh God.” He whimpered between rapid and agonised breaths, Pink rolled her eyes at the idea of him hyperventilating again.
“Please, Mistress, please just-”
“-Just?” Pink interrupted with a harsh tone. “Are you giving me orders now? 'Just' what?”
“Just let-”
“-Let me worship your feet again, mistress? Sure thing honey. You noticed me taking these off, right?”
She stood barefoot and turned one of her socks inside out. Bunching it into a ball she pushed the toe end of it right into his nose. His tears intensified.
“That's it,” she cooed, “breathe it all in, nice and slowly.”
He did as she ordered. Inhaling her musky sock through his nose and exhaling as best he could through his mouth, it was painfully hard. His libido raged and his lungs felt desperate for air, it was making him feel giddy.
“Nice... And... Slowly...” She pressed the sock into his nose and watched him breathing in her scent, his eyes closed and sweat beaded on his forehead.
She whispered into his ear. “How about a taste of the feet that created such a... Heavenly, smell?”
He could actually feel his heartbeat pounding through his cock. This was too much. There was just no way he could take her feet right now, he would explode. The thought both thrilled and mortified him. Pink had time and again warned him of the consequences for men that orgasm without permission here. He had never met this 'Black', but if a woman like Pink was describing her in such terrible ways... Black simply didn't bear thinking about.
The weeks had become a blur of Pink, her soft, warm flesh. Her merciless hands and cruel feet edging the life out of him day after day. Not forgetting her beautiful, beautiful pussy. He had felt it once, just once... And that was all it had taken. In a panic he had screamed for her to stop. Pink had stood up and in extreme amusement watched him twitch away with gritted teeth. Since that day she had forbade any and all pussy play.
Her feet didn't have quite the same effect, though during their time together she'd still caused him to fall in love with them and she adored weaponising them.
“I painted them just for you, your favourite colour.” She smiled lovingly at her struggling and sweating slave.
“Don't you want to see?” She feigned upset as she ran that fluffy sock all around his face. His head was swimming.
“Poor baby, I've been so hard on you haven't I?” She dabbed his tears with her sock and dropped it to the floor.
“Maybe we'll save the feet for later... You are licking your dinner from them after all.”
To his horror she turned to face away from him and pinched at the sides of her shorts. She inched them down slowly, gradually revealing his true weakness.
He squeezed his eyes shut and looked away, things were truly leaping to attention right now. He was certain should one single hair fall from her head and land on his cock right now...
She spread her cheeks before him and giggled. “Remember what happens to naughty boys?”
He said nothing, he stared into the darkness behind his eyelids and whimpered. He heard the familiar click of a bottle opening.
“Open your eyes.” Pink ordered.
“Please don't do this.” He cried in response.
“Open them!” She shouted back.
“Please, mistress, I can't!”
“You open them right now or I turn you over to Black.”
He promptly opened his eyes and almost choked on his gasp.
Clear oil drizzled slowly down her cheeks. Pink used her hand to sensually guide it in between them. He was mesmerised by the way that hand glided across her flawless skin and leant his head back as if in defeat.
Her lips formed a sultry smirk as she turned her head to look at him. Helplessly bound, profusely sweating and raging hard. She stepped backwards and nestled herself down in his lap.
Pink groaned in satisfaction as she felt his hot and exquisitely stiff cock roll around beneath her. Supporting herself on the arms of the chair she ground her hips into him, mashing her deliciously soft ass all over his lap.
“Stop! Stop it!” He squealed as her hot, slippery skin mercilessly massaged him. He could feel it building for what must surely have been at least the thousandth time over the weeks of his captivity. Her cheeks brought him to the very brink and stopped suddenly as she leapt up, leaving him breathless and red faced with crazed frustration leaking from his eyes.
“How did you get in?” He heard her ask urgently.
There was no reply to the question, just a gentle gurgling sound and some sort of low hiss.
“Black, I am in session here...”
Black! Holy fuck, what does she want?*The possibilities terrified him.
“...So did you want something? And would you mind not using*that*in here please?”
Black grinned at her. Internally Pink was seething at the interruption. What was it with Black and trying to undermine her?
“Just checking if your little fucktoy there had blown it yet, that's all.”
He watched Pink's ass as she walked towards Black.
“Black, we have been patient with you. All of us have.”
“'All of us'?”
“Yes.”
“And what exactly is the problem 'all of us' have?”
Black stood right in front of Pink. Her slave, their captive audience, watched the drama unfold. The contrast between the two women was stark. Pink was essentially a Barbie, mostly fake. Black wore a short and skin tight black dress with nothing else. No make up, no painted nails. Nothing. Just the dress and a pair of scruffy black and white Converse. The one thing they had in common was hair dye, though Black's clearly hadn't been redone in a while and looked to be a dark, metallic purple though it was difficult to say in the low light of this room.
“What problems*haven't*people had? That's more the question, Black. That you're a menace, that you're a danger, that you don't learn, nor do you listen.” Pink tapped a finger against the side of her own head. “That you're just... Wrong, Black.”
Black giggled and blew a cloud into Pink's face. The anger which had been seething within Pink was rapidly becoming a maelstrom she'd have almost no hope of riding out. She took a deep breath as she clenched her fists.
“Black-”
“-Ooo, somebody likes what he sees.”
Pink snapped her head around in her slave's direction, sure enough he was rock hard. And not looking at her. He was staring into Black's eyes.
“Maybe he'll blow it just looking at me.” Black purred at an enraged Pink. “Can't say I blame him. After all, I am a plastic free zone-”
-Slap!*Pink's hand whipped around and caught Black square on the cheek. In a flash Black had her hands around Pink's throat and the pair fell to the floor in front of the bewildered slave. He gawked as his naked mistress wrestled with the woman he'd only ever heard about, but had immediately fallen for upon seeing.
Pink growled and scratched at Black's hands as they tightened their grip. Her bare legs kicked out behind Black who had straddled her nemesis and was squeezing her tight between her strong thighs. Black relented her grip and promptly seized Pink's hands, restraining both of them behind Pink's head.
Effortlessly, Black rolled onto her side, bringing the trapped Pink with her wrapped her legs around Pink's waist, tightening her grip while arching her back a little, stretching a gasping and gurgling Pink out and giving her slave his best view yet of her huge breasts. A single arm was used to pin both of Pink's behind her head and she grunted in frustration as Black's iron grip rendered her utterly helpless.
“He's staring at you, Pink!” Black whispered with glee into her ear. Pink was beside herself with rage and humiliation.
“He's watching you get your ass kicked and oh, look how hard he is!” Black gasped theatrically.
“Look!” She rolled a little to force Pink to face her slave.
“Get off of me!” She shouted at her attacker.
“He doesn't want you anymore, he wants me-”
“-Get the fuck off of me, now!”
“You want me to get off?”
“Yes! Now!”
“With pleasure.” She giggled.
“Black! No plea-”
Pink was seized once more. This time with laughter. Her slave watched in amazement as Black's fingers scurried around the underarm of his mistress. He grew even harder in response to this incredible show. One beautiful woman wrapped around another. It pleased him immensely to see his tormentress in so much distress, he'd dreamt every night of doing unspeakable things to her. Really making her suffer.
Black's hand grabbed at her victim's ribs and massaged them vigorously, turning the laughter silent. Pink's legs kicked out weakly and she shook in Black's unyielding embrace. She had fallen to pieces. Her slave was sitting right there, watching her utter domination. Her power over him would have surely crumbled to dust now just as surely as her paradise had, invaded by this demon. She had nothing left here.
But still Black wanted more. The tickling continued unabated for minute after hellish minute. Tears streamed down Pink's cheeks. She'd been frightfully ticklish her entire life but never once had it used so painfully against her. She struggled against Black's hold but it was futile. For now, she belonged to Black, a woman almost 20 years younger than she was. It was an absolutely crushing feeling.
Black squeezed her thighs ever tighter and her relentless assault of Pink's side reached a truly frenzied pace. She leered at the reddening, sweating skin beneath her fingers.
“Give him to me and this will stop.” She hissed, clawing at Pink's skin.
Pink could barely breathe, she would have gladly submitted to end this disaster of an evening. But Black wouldn't quit. That hand ravaged her and robbed her of everything. Her dignity, her control and now her ability to speak.
That changed when Black's hand slipped further down and a fingernail entered Pink's belly button.
“FUCK! OH MY GOD STOP!”
The screaming was ear piercing, Black's eyes widened and she bit her lip as she buried her fingernail into that button and vibrated it round and round and round and round.
“BLACK! BLACK!” Pink was on the verge of a full blown panic attack and still Black didn't relent. Her finger had found a new home and it intended to stay for a very, very long time.
Black made a claw of her hand and attacked Pink's entire belly, the poor woman heaved and choked on the laughter so horribly forced from her. She wept in hysterics. It was drawn from her as sobs, utterly defeated sobs.
Pink heard the satisfied moaning and panting of her assailant increase as a rush of warmth flooded from between Pink's thighs.
“Take him.” She cried.
“Huh? Didn't hear you.” Black taunted, her thighs becoming a vice around the waist of Pink.
“Take... Him...” She croaked out, unable to breathe.
“This is what happens when you insist on doing things the hard way, honey.”
Black's tickling continued ever more ferociously. There was no laughter. There was barely a sound beyond fingernails scratching at sweaty skin.
“You've had him for weeks already, I guess this is what greed gets you.”
Pink caught a glimpse of her slave before slipping into unconsciousness.
Black released her and stood. She walked over to the slave bound and throbbing in his chair.
“So you think she's hot, huh?”
“I... Yes, she is, of course-”
“-Of course? That's what you like?” She pointed at the motionless Pink. “Dolls? Fucking*dolls?”
“She's... She's pretty.”
Black sighed. “How long has dolly kept you here?”
“I don't know, a few weeks maybe.”
“And that's never been satisfied, huh?”
He grimaced and lowered his head.
With the much needed vape back at her lips, Black looked thoughtfully between his desperately denied self and the sleeping Pink. She slowly exhaled a cloud as she bent forward and looked into his eyes.
“If I untie you, do you promise to be a good boy?”
Her eyes captivated him. He'd never seen such emerald eyes before. He simply nodded slowly.
“Would you like to make me happy?”
“Yes.”
She unfastened his straps one by one as she explained what she would like to see. He practically leapt from the chair when Black was done.
She perched on one of the chair's legs and settled a hand down her knickers, watching as her will was carried out.*She even lubed herself up for it.*Black giggled to herself contentedly as she fogged the room up.
It didn't take very long, as expected. He lay in a heap atop Pink, grunting and groaning in epic satisfaction. He rested and relished the feeling of his flesh against hers. Never in his wildest dreams could he have envisioned the events of tonight. Just a few weeks ago he had been homeless and now-
“-OW! Fuck what was...”
Something had bitten him right at the top of his leg. A sharp and focussed sting out of nowhere. He turned his head as his sight began to fade, he saw Black squatting down beside him.
“Night night.” She smiled and waved as he slipped into darkness.
She pulled him off of Pink and rolled him out of the way, then grabbed Pink's ankles and dragged her across the floor.
Moving as quickly as she could, she grabbed her handbag and pulled out a huge length of thin black rope. With expert hands she bound Pink's wrists behind her back and did likewise with her ankles, scooping them up behind her to cinch them together in a basic but effective hogtie.
Black's eyes wandered from Pink's helpless and oiled ass to the tub of experimental hell in her bag. She smiled.
Slipping on a disposable glove, she coated two fingers with that abominable cream and with great care, spread Pink's cheeks before inserting her fingers as deep as they could go. Black filled Pink with the stuff until it began to ooze out of her a little.*Good luck trying to wash that out, Pinky.
She sighed with contentment and wiped the gloves clean on Pink's upturned soles before packing her things away. She whipped out her phone and sent a text requesting an alarm call for Pink's room, three hours from now.
And locked the door behind her.
***
The voluptuous, sculpted body hung suspended from the ceiling by its ankles. Fur-lined, thick leather cuffs fastened snug around each one and were connected to a chain pulley system. That stunning body was hoisted into the air slowly, the rattling of chains the only sound to be heard as it was lifted painfully slowly, inch by inch high into the steam-rich atmosphere of the boiler room.
Her wrists had been strapped behind her and a wire was attached to her ankle cuffs, connecting to her wrists to hold them in place just above waist level. She wore nothing besides a sheen of sweat.
Well, that wasn't strictly accurate. She wore her suit of sweat in the stifling heat of this dingy basement room in addition to a mask. It covered her entire face, two large eyeholes rapidly fogging up with the steamy surroundings. A flexible hose attached to the area covering the unfortunate woman's mouth and that in turn was connected to a cannister.
On the other side of the room and with a perfect view of proceedings, Black sat by her pride and joy. Her Little Black Box.
A metal box, with just two holes for ankles and feet to protrude from and one much larger hole in the centre, just below the foot holes. Displayed in this hole was the unutterably beautiful ass and pussy of the Club's newest member undergoing initiation, Maria.
Black sat with the remote control for this box and tapped a button repeatedly, each press causing the metal clamps fixed around Maria's toes to spread just a little wider. She then pushed the joystick up to stretch the toes backwards and all but salivated at the sight of those feet. Such deep arches this new one had, and not even the most minute of blemishes to be seen.
At least not the usual sort. Black had seen her share of minor callouses and dry skin through the years but this was not what affected Maria's feet. No, Maria's soles, and indeed the sides and tops of her feet and patches around her ass and the visible parts of her upper thighs were marked with tiny pink dots. Thousands of them. A totally harmless but unfortunate side effect of Black's woolly bag treatment. Black looked at those dots and looked over to the hanging body, vaping away as she wondered which of the two ladies possessed the most scarred mind.
The tension in the air was palpable and Black was truly savouring the moment. The situation had been explained to both participants in this game around twenty minutes ago. The looks of horror on their faces had made her belly tingle.
The room was silent, for good reason. Maria had listened in terror as Black described to her in detail what would happen if Maria made a sound. Inside the box was a microphone, any noise Maria made would be relayed through speakers all around this room. The cannister connected to the mask worn by that unfortunate woman hanging over there would be activated by sound, above a certain level. Black couldn't remember the actual figure and had simply warned Maria to keep the noise down.
Once that cannister clicked into life, it would leak toxic vapours through the hose and into the mask. Black had grasped at her own throat and mocked choking to death before an appalled and terrified Maria, before she shut the lid on the box and set about fixing Maria's toes in position.
Maria had to make it through one hour without making a sound. One hour. Without making any noise whatsoever, trapped inside this stuffy box and with her bare feet totally helpless before a repulsive sadist the likes of which she hadn't known in well over a decade. She had managed to remain calm so far, just the odd whimper she caught in her throat before it was broadcast around the room whenever this bitch poked at one of her soles.
So far, just the occasional poke. But that poke told Maria all she needed to know. The fingernail was sharp, the finger itself strong and the touch was precise. Maria was sweating with a feeling she hadn't known in what felt like a lifetime. Dread. All consuming, soul destroying dread. The moment that finger, or those fingers kicked into action, that would be it. She would fail, hard. She couldn't even muffle herself with her hands as they were fastened away somewhere down by her hips.
Maria had no idea that Black was actually watching her, right now. To the top of the remote was fixed a small screen, it displayed the anguish on Maria's face beautifully. Suddenly her teeth were bared, they grit and her face became a mask of furious determination.
Black watched the screen as she traced the mouthpiece of her vape from the ball of Maria's left foot, down the valley of her arch and into the cushion of her heel. The journey had taken around four seconds and Maria's panting could be heard around the room.
Black leaned in and licked along that same path but in reverse and Maria gasped before snapping her mouth shut, tight.
Memories stormed Maria's mind. The helplessness, the tickling, the licking of her feet... She was a wreck. Her time in that horrific bag had bent her mind backwards and forwards over and over until it threatened to snap. She had so little energy left. This had been a terrible, terrible mistake. She should never have become involved with these maniacs.
A fact Black was reminding her of again, and again, and again, lapping away at her bare soles like a cat. Short, fast lashes of the tongue each one driving home to Maria how stupid she had been and how perilous her situation was now.
“Shit!” She wheezed out a screeched curse and muted it as best she could and she thrashed around in the box as fingernails sunk into the fleshy balls of her feet. And stayed there, poised. Ready to end the game for Maria.
“Please!” She whispered, praying for some semblance of mercy or compassion.
“Please! Stop this!” The urgency in her whispers increased by the second as those talon-like fingernails sank ever further into her taut flesh. Maria was frantic.
“Let me out! I have to go! I have AGH-”
Black's eyes widened and her breathing quickened, her heart pounded watching this strong woman bend so easily to her will. Her fingernails raked along the length of each sole. The faces this Violet made, they were so sexy. Her face screwed up and she looked like she was being racked with pain or pleasure. Or both. But she held her volume in check admirably.
The lid to the box opened with a hiss. Maria stared up at the face of her captor and her heart broke.
She now wore gloves, black and shining with some type of gel dripping from them. She rubbed her hands together with unrestrained glee and Maria trembled listening to the cruel texture of those lubricated surfaces rubbing against one another. Her stomach sank imagining the hell that was to come. She had no words, her lips quivered and she fought to steady her breathing as she was once more sealed in darkness.
Maria tugged at her wrists, pulling with all her strength. She tensed her legs and arched her back as she battled to break free of this hell. The darkness of the box was slowly overwhelming her, feeling more and more like a thick stifling blanket someone was holding tight over her face.
Black winced as the room was rocked by Maria's urgent and roaring screams. Her gloved hands effortlessly cut through what reserves of strength Maria had left and punished the beautiful, immobile feet with long and agonising strokes from the heels to the toes and not sparing one tiny spot in between. The tickling was so savage Black noticed her own feet cringing a little. Her face was a mask of joy, her tongue poked out between her teeth as she beamed a smile while brutalising Maria's feet.
Black bit the finger of one glove and tore it away from her hand, spitting it onto the floor before frantically thrusting that hand down between her thighs, abusing herself as furiously as she abused Maria's tortured sole. She sawed the ribbed and nodule covered palm of the glove into Maria's deep arch until the entire room sang with hysterical, inhuman wailing.
Maria wet herself and Black's climax tore through her with such force she had to stop the tickling to squeeze Maria's foot, bracing herself and screaming with shocked delight as she too made a mess of herself.
Moments later she stood on shaky legs and walked to the other side of her pedicure station, lifting the lid to reveal a distraught Maria. Her panicked breathing played all around the room.
“Didn't I say to keep the noise*down?*Jeez.”
“But how, what the... Oh my god, she isn't really-”
Black sighed. “-You knew the rules and then you went and broke them.”
Maria cried.*Holly! Oh my god...
“You couldn't control yourself and now... Well. I guess she didn't mean that much to you after all.”
The tears flowed profusely as a pain washed over Maria. Black looked down at her, smiling.
She checked the time on the remote. “Well the game may be over, but we still have well over an hour left here.”
Maria watched through bleary eyes as Black disappear from view. She heard the depraved creature rummaging through a bag and Maria's heart pounded when she reappeared, standing triumphantly with an infuriating smile on her face and a terrifying instrument in her hand. A wand vibrator with a huge head and a ribbed, devious looking attachment several inches long branching away from it.
“Oh, don't look so worried! These things are so much fun, believe me.” Black bit her lip and shuddered as she ran her hand over the vibrator.
“I'll be back soon. First let's see if me and my friend can cheer you up.” She shut the lid and locked it, leaving Maria to despair inside the gloom of Black's box.
Black took out her phone and hit a speed dial. She looked over to the hanging body by the far wall.
“Boiler room, I need a transfer to 2C.”
Black sighed as she walked towards the cannister, that room was unavailable right now. She knelt down and peeled away at the many 'Toxic' stickers she had used to cover up all evidence that the cannister in fact held Oxygen as she listened to what facilities were free for use. None sounded right for what she needed.
“Well the second it's free, let me know.” She looked back up at the beautiful, swaying body.
“Oh. And bring a bagging crew.”
***
Epilogue
There was a chill in the air as Holly was wheeled across the dew laden grass. The thick film which wrapped her so snugly rustled gently as the chair bumped along over uneven ground. Long, wet blades of grass caressed her bare toes. She squeezed her hands tight and looked down, covering one foot with the other.
The chair bumped into a rock concealed by the wild grass and the man wheeling her along cursed under his breath as he grabbed hold of Holly to prevent her spilling onto the treacherous path.*Why don't these things have belts?*He had often asked and was always told to just get on with it. So he did. He no longer asked questions and just did as he was told, when he was told. Settling his cargo back into position he resumed their journey.
As she rocked in the chair, Holly thought back to her time in the boiler room. She had kept her eyes shut, not that it had helped much. She remained aware that she was hanging in the air whether she could see it or not. It made her feel sick. And the 'game' that*beast*forced her to play with Maria... All but the faintest slither of faith she had left in humanity had been stripped away by it.
She'd heard Maria scream out in agony as that*sickening... Freak*did whatever she did and had shut her eyes and simply given in. Something within her just let go. Evaporated. The rules to the game had been simple – be quiet, or else. She didn't blame Maria... Couldn't blame Maria. It had been an unwinnable game. She actually felt peaceful during those moments after Maria's scream,*this is it, she'd thought. She still held her breath though. Her mind simply wouldn't allow her to voluntarily inhale poisonous gas.
Time eventually won that battle though, the last one she would ever fight. With a tear leaking from her eyes and down onto her forehead, she had taken the tiniest breath of her life, barely a snivel. She was expecting something to smell... But there was nothing. No smell. No choking, nor even any coughing. Long minutes passed of tentative breathing and nothing at all was occurring. She prayed whatever eventually happened to her would at least be painless.
Soon she noticed the face of their torturer looking up at her, she was on her phone to somebody and looking one moment at Holly and the next back to Maria. And she was*smiling.
Her hatred of this woman had been sealed forever when she watched her moving the gas cannister about. Holly had peered down at her quizzically as the can was disconnected from the hose and rolled onto its side. She peeled away stickers and Holly felt the greatest surge of anger and fury she'd ever felt in her life. Greater even than at any point during her captivity at Maria's.
Oxygen! The bitch! The utter, fucking... Ugh!*There just wasn't a word that did any justice to her. To it. Holly had to shut her eyes when this animal drew a line under that word, Oxygen, with her finger, looked up at Holly. And laughed. Holly couldn't remember genuinely wishing death upon another human being before that moment.
It was a long time before some men arrived at the boiler room to lower her down. They immediately began to wrap her in this green film. Holly offered no resistance. She looked over to the box Maria had been held in, it was empty. Next thing she knew, she was deposited onto this very wheelchair and taken through corridor after corridor until they entered a service elevator.
Thirty seconds later the doors opened and she was hit by the cold air of the great outdoors. The men escorting her had whispered to the man pushing her along now, she'd heard them call him “Grey” and they told him to “take her for a walk”.
She stared thoughtfully at the grass brushing by her toes and listened to the laboured breath of the man wheeling her across the field. He swore, a lot. She wondered if he was the gardener of this hell hole, he certainly dressed for the part.
He stopped pushing her for a while to smoke a cigarette, locking the chair's wheels. With his back turned to her, he lit it with a match and looked out toward the trees.
His free hand kept returning to the back of his neck and he sighed, frequently turning his head to look back the way they had come. While Holly could only catch glimpses of his profile, she could clearly see the distress on his face. He looked over to the trees again and stepped forward, shielding his eyes from the glow of the setting sun. Holly watched him. Suddenly the words*"take her for a walk"*seemed quite menacing.
He flicked the cigarette away and turned towards her, catching her eye as he did so. Holly's heart broke for him. His face bore the burden of what was no doubt years of torment. His right arm looked like it had been scratched viciously, and recently too. He was also blind in his left eye. This man, 'Grey', could so easily have been her own grandfather. How did he ever end up in this place?
He quickly lowered his head and broke the stare, whispering curses, and hurried back to the chair. The locks clicked off and they were back underway.
Bumpy moments passed and the long blades of grass which stroked across her feet were now gone. Tall trees cast gloomy shadows across the whole area. The ground here was well maintained, shovels were piled up against one tree caked with fresh earth and as they rounded a corner into a clearing, Holly, with a rush of nausea, discovered why.
***
The woollen bag lurched and leapt around on the cushioned ground as if the contents were being electrocuted. It rolled around awkwardly and desperately, the feet end kicking into the floor and the head thrashing this way and that. The knuckles of anguished hands could be seen just above waist level, so too the fingers clawing in a frenzy at what little wool they could actually get some purchase on.
Woven around this desperate figure were leather belts. The metallic jangling of miniature padlocks against buckles provided an almost soothing melody to accompany the tortured, panicked screams of the damned which flew around the room. They bounced between the layers of thick padding shielding every hard surface in there and sealing this dreadful prison cell away from the rest of the world.
Sitting down against the door to this room in the calm and tranquillity of one of the Club's basement corridors was Black. She took a long drag from her vape and took another look at the clock, raising her eyebrows as her free hand moved in tight circular motions down between her thighs. She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly and filling the area with a dense, fruity fog.
She heard footsteps approach, they were slow and sounded careful.
“Blue...” Came the exasperated sigh. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Blue looked up from her and to the door.
“What have you got in there?”
“Fuck yourself.” She blew an even thicker cloud in his direction.
“You should really give that up, you know.” He looked up at the clock, impatiently. “How long have you been down here?”
Black looked at him, he waited with mounting frustration as she inhaled what was surely enough for two or even three sets of lungs.
“Black!” He shouted at her.
She stared at him as she breathed out slowly, gradually forming an O with her lips. She had a curious look on her face. Checking the time, Black replied.
“So, could she taste me? On you? You never did tell-”
Immediately he was standing over her, his leather shoe kicked into her Converse as he reached down and grabbed her hair, yanking her head to one side. He knelt, his face so close she could smell the wine on his breath.
“Three weeks, Black.” He spat her name out, some of it hit her cheek.
“Three weeks and we can see about doing something for this perpetual fucking attitude you have.” At the mention of her upcoming Term Renewal, Black's curious demeanour dissolved.
To be replaced with one of amusement.
“And five weeks”, she whispered with a beaming smile, “until I can see about reminding you... Of just what you're missing out on.” His grip on her weakened a little. She leaned in to kiss him, his eyes widened slightly but he moved in too, closing his eyes.
His kiss landed against her fingers. They covered her mouth and they smelt... Familiar. The anger he felt upon opening his eyes to see her grinning face laughing at him was almost too much to bear. He let go of her hair and stood up, covering his crotch as subtly as he possibly could.
“Five weeks,” she laughed, “until I get to fuck your marriage up. Again.”
Blue had been at the Club for a number of years and tragically his Term Renewal date fell on the eve of his wedding day. Explaining to a frustrated wife why he was barely able to perform on his wedding night had taken a lot of creativity. And every year for the remainder of his membership, a Renewal would be held the very night before the happy couple's anniversary.
“And this time, no amount of hot water will be able to wash me away.” She giggled at the bulge in his trousers and winked. The vape returned to her highly amused lips. Black's eyes twinkled and he caught a rare sighting of her dimples.*She really is beautiful when she smiles.
“You fucked nothing up, Black-”
“-Except for the biggest night of your wife's life, Blue.”
She slipped a finger into the heel of her shoe and began to ease it away from her foot. Blue watched as her soft, peachy heel slowly emerged. His wedding day had been plagued by the memory of those feet.
“I've been on my feet all day.” She said in mock upset. “Would you like to rub them for me?”
He walked away. As expected, this had been a mistake.
“My regards to Mrs. Blue.” She shouted after him amidst the swirling fog.
“And mine to your fingers, bitch.” He called back, raising his middle one at her.*Why? Why do it to yourself?*He cursed his own stupidity. Black was a drug and ever since that fateful evening during his Renewal he had been hooked.
Black watched him leave and her grin gradually faded. She looked up to the clock again.
Getting up onto her knees she carefully grabbed hold of the doors lever. Pulling it down and taking a deep breath, she slowly opened it and peered around into the pitch darkness. It was quiet. An almost unnerving quiet, she could hear her ears ringing slightly.
What the fuck...?*She could neither see nor hear anything, at all. She looked around up and down the corridor. Nobody there. Absolutely no sound in the basement.
Holy shit!*She leapt backwards and just caught a shocked scream in her throat from escaping as the head end of that white woollen bag fell into view, twitching and gurgling like something out of a horror movie in the doorway. Black's hand was clasped over her mouth and her face wrinkled up as she laughed quietly and hysterically, thanking God that there was no CCTV down here.
She eventually calmed down enough to recognise that the figure inside the bag was trying to speak.
Black sat up, wiping a tear from her eye and shuffled on her knees towards the head. She unbuttoned the flap, exposing the unfortunate victim's mouth and nose. The screams had clearly died down a little while ago much to her disappointment. Still, the twitching, the shaking voice and the damp staining around the bag's crotch were plenty to get things flowing...
Black hiked her dress up a little and her hand nestled back down inside of her knickers. She tucked her hair behind her ear and leant in the direction of the drooling mouth. The teeth chattered and for a while all she could hear was that and pained grunting. Black's hand began to move faster as the voice finally spoke.
“I g- … I... I get- get it.” She watched the mouth splutter out those few words before the teeth grit tight once again and an agonised growl was forced through them.
“Let me out!” The words were rapidly fired out. Black's lips parted and her breathing quickened, the desperation in a voice got her every time.
“LET ME OUT!” Black's ears rang once more.
The head rocked back and forth, slamming itself over and over into the soft padding of the floor, Black felt the force of it through her knees. The growling became a whine, its pitch increasing by the second and Black's hand was a whirlwind between her legs as the screams and the electrified thrashing resumed in all their glory.
She came hard and couldn't help but add her own throaty squeal to the horrifying cacophony in that cell. She removed her hand and wiped it dry on the bag before standing, steadying herself with one hand on a wall while the soft ground near her feet shook under her crazed prisoner.
With one last look at the epitome of insane desperation, Black filled the room with her fruity fog and shut the door. She grabbed her handbag and retrieved a tub of yellow cream and her marker pen.
She thought back to events over the past two hours as she held the heavy tub in front of her.*Yeah, I'd say it got her approval.*She ticked the box on the label which read “Approved” and initialled it “B”. Reading the label, she smiled at the way words like “Experimental”, “Extreme Caution” and “Itching” were all used in the same sentence.
Another look at the clock told her, rudely, that she had just fifteen minutes left before the padded room was booked for use by another member. Black squeezed her thighs together and tapped her feet on the floor restlessly.
The tingling between her legs just wouldn't quit today.*Oh, once more. Fuck it.*She leapt to her feet and pulled the door open fully, locking it onto the safety catch to ensure she didn't shut herself in there with the lunatic.
The bag was kneeling in the corner of the room alternating screeches with haggard wheezing. Black pulled it onto it's back and it wailed in excruciating misery as it hit the floor and was pinned in place beneath Black's hot and slippery pussy.
Black ground herself backwards and forwards against the quivering mouth of her frenzied captive and leant forward, supporting herself against the wool covered breasts. She felt the heartbeat pounding through her left palm.
And the basement corridors exploded into a symphony of screams.
***
“Ooo, that was a close one! Hold it, hold it! Don't you fucking dare.”
Pink commanded her near delirious slave with a sweet yet authoritarian tone. He had been trapped down here for the better part of three hours now. Trapped inside Pink's paradise, a place where men were brought but would never... Arrive.
“Breathe, breathe, breathe, yes that's good. Oh you're doing so well!”
She smiled at her slave as she gripped his shaft, holding it tight at the base to expose his entire tip and carefully massaged his frenulum with her thumb.
He was utterly beside himself, desperate to thrust upwards from the chair he was bound to and into her hand. Thick leather straps around his thighs prevented any such action, as the ones binding his arms to those of the chair prevented his hands from grabbing at himself to finish the job.
How he wished to be able to do exactly that. It was all he had thought about for as long as he could remember. When not strapped in for another night of the most hellishly pleasurable torment known to man, Pink locked him away in chastity. After several weeks she had found to her amusement that while the device prevented him masturbating himself into oblivion, it apparently did not stop wet dreams.
Not that such dreams appeared to help him out in any way, he still lived in a state of constant arousal. Extreme arousal which was now being stoked to infernal levels with little more than Pink's thumb. He was a wreck, physically and emotionally.
It was getting harder and harder for Pink to coax any type of response from him these days. She had noted how lethargic and generally uninterested his worship of her had become. During their first few days together they had practically been 18 again, he could not get enough of her despite the brutal edging he endured and she was fascinated with his body and his reactions to her every touch.
Now though... Not so much. All he did was weep at the sight of her. He became hard almost immediately, visibly pulsating with lust and she had to be damned careful to not set him off. Even this thumb play was clearly too much for him to cope with.
It lurched in her hands and she immediately let go and watched it twitch. Her slave was a vision of frustrated torment. Both he and his diabolically denied cock literally cried out for attention. Pink frowned at his cock, but she was at least pleased that those tears were clear and not white ones flying into her face.
“Now... That was too close, wasn't it?”
He wept. Pink stood up before him, clad in nothing but tiny beige tartan shorts and thick bed socks complete with eyes and whiskers.
“Much, much too close. Do we think somebody needs to cool off a little?”
He wept some more. She lifted her leg and he watched her pull the long, thick sock from just below her knee down to her ankle.
“Oh God.” He whimpered between rapid and agonised breaths, Pink rolled her eyes at the idea of him hyperventilating again.
“Please, Mistress, please just-”
“-Just?” Pink interrupted with a harsh tone. “Are you giving me orders now? 'Just' what?”
“Just let-”
“-Let me worship your feet again, mistress? Sure thing honey. You noticed me taking these off, right?”
She stood barefoot and turned one of her socks inside out. Bunching it into a ball she pushed the toe end of it right into his nose. His tears intensified.
“That's it,” she cooed, “breathe it all in, nice and slowly.”
He did as she ordered. Inhaling her musky sock through his nose and exhaling as best he could through his mouth, it was painfully hard. His libido raged and his lungs felt desperate for air, it was making him feel giddy.
“Nice... And... Slowly...” She pressed the sock into his nose and watched him breathing in her scent, his eyes closed and sweat beaded on his forehead.
She whispered into his ear. “How about a taste of the feet that created such a... Heavenly, smell?”
He could actually feel his heartbeat pounding through his cock. This was too much. There was just no way he could take her feet right now, he would explode. The thought both thrilled and mortified him. Pink had time and again warned him of the consequences for men that orgasm without permission here. He had never met this 'Black', but if a woman like Pink was describing her in such terrible ways... Black simply didn't bear thinking about.
The weeks had become a blur of Pink, her soft, warm flesh. Her merciless hands and cruel feet edging the life out of him day after day. Not forgetting her beautiful, beautiful pussy. He had felt it once, just once... And that was all it had taken. In a panic he had screamed for her to stop. Pink had stood up and in extreme amusement watched him twitch away with gritted teeth. Since that day she had forbade any and all pussy play.
Her feet didn't have quite the same effect, though during their time together she'd still caused him to fall in love with them and she adored weaponising them.
“I painted them just for you, your favourite colour.” She smiled lovingly at her struggling and sweating slave.
“Don't you want to see?” She feigned upset as she ran that fluffy sock all around his face. His head was swimming.
“Poor baby, I've been so hard on you haven't I?” She dabbed his tears with her sock and dropped it to the floor.
“Maybe we'll save the feet for later... You are licking your dinner from them after all.”
To his horror she turned to face away from him and pinched at the sides of her shorts. She inched them down slowly, gradually revealing his true weakness.
He squeezed his eyes shut and looked away, things were truly leaping to attention right now. He was certain should one single hair fall from her head and land on his cock right now...
She spread her cheeks before him and giggled. “Remember what happens to naughty boys?”
He said nothing, he stared into the darkness behind his eyelids and whimpered. He heard the familiar click of a bottle opening.
“Open your eyes.” Pink ordered.
“Please don't do this.” He cried in response.
“Open them!” She shouted back.
“Please, mistress, I can't!”
“You open them right now or I turn you over to Black.”
He promptly opened his eyes and almost choked on his gasp.
Clear oil drizzled slowly down her cheeks. Pink used her hand to sensually guide it in between them. He was mesmerised by the way that hand glided across her flawless skin and leant his head back as if in defeat.
Her lips formed a sultry smirk as she turned her head to look at him. Helplessly bound, profusely sweating and raging hard. She stepped backwards and nestled herself down in his lap.
Pink groaned in satisfaction as she felt his hot and exquisitely stiff cock roll around beneath her. Supporting herself on the arms of the chair she ground her hips into him, mashing her deliciously soft ass all over his lap.
“Stop! Stop it!” He squealed as her hot, slippery skin mercilessly massaged him. He could feel it building for what must surely have been at least the thousandth time over the weeks of his captivity. Her cheeks brought him to the very brink and stopped suddenly as she leapt up, leaving him breathless and red faced with crazed frustration leaking from his eyes.
“How did you get in?” He heard her ask urgently.
There was no reply to the question, just a gentle gurgling sound and some sort of low hiss.
“Black, I am in session here...”
Black! Holy fuck, what does she want?*The possibilities terrified him.
“...So did you want something? And would you mind not using*that*in here please?”
Black grinned at her. Internally Pink was seething at the interruption. What was it with Black and trying to undermine her?
“Just checking if your little fucktoy there had blown it yet, that's all.”
He watched Pink's ass as she walked towards Black.
“Black, we have been patient with you. All of us have.”
“'All of us'?”
“Yes.”
“And what exactly is the problem 'all of us' have?”
Black stood right in front of Pink. Her slave, their captive audience, watched the drama unfold. The contrast between the two women was stark. Pink was essentially a Barbie, mostly fake. Black wore a short and skin tight black dress with nothing else. No make up, no painted nails. Nothing. Just the dress and a pair of scruffy black and white Converse. The one thing they had in common was hair dye, though Black's clearly hadn't been redone in a while and looked to be a dark, metallic purple though it was difficult to say in the low light of this room.
“What problems*haven't*people had? That's more the question, Black. That you're a menace, that you're a danger, that you don't learn, nor do you listen.” Pink tapped a finger against the side of her own head. “That you're just... Wrong, Black.”
Black giggled and blew a cloud into Pink's face. The anger which had been seething within Pink was rapidly becoming a maelstrom she'd have almost no hope of riding out. She took a deep breath as she clenched her fists.
“Black-”
“-Ooo, somebody likes what he sees.”
Pink snapped her head around in her slave's direction, sure enough he was rock hard. And not looking at her. He was staring into Black's eyes.
“Maybe he'll blow it just looking at me.” Black purred at an enraged Pink. “Can't say I blame him. After all, I am a plastic free zone-”
-Slap!*Pink's hand whipped around and caught Black square on the cheek. In a flash Black had her hands around Pink's throat and the pair fell to the floor in front of the bewildered slave. He gawked as his naked mistress wrestled with the woman he'd only ever heard about, but had immediately fallen for upon seeing.
Pink growled and scratched at Black's hands as they tightened their grip. Her bare legs kicked out behind Black who had straddled her nemesis and was squeezing her tight between her strong thighs. Black relented her grip and promptly seized Pink's hands, restraining both of them behind Pink's head.
Effortlessly, Black rolled onto her side, bringing the trapped Pink with her wrapped her legs around Pink's waist, tightening her grip while arching her back a little, stretching a gasping and gurgling Pink out and giving her slave his best view yet of her huge breasts. A single arm was used to pin both of Pink's behind her head and she grunted in frustration as Black's iron grip rendered her utterly helpless.
“He's staring at you, Pink!” Black whispered with glee into her ear. Pink was beside herself with rage and humiliation.
“He's watching you get your ass kicked and oh, look how hard he is!” Black gasped theatrically.
“Look!” She rolled a little to force Pink to face her slave.
“Get off of me!” She shouted at her attacker.
“He doesn't want you anymore, he wants me-”
“-Get the fuck off of me, now!”
“You want me to get off?”
“Yes! Now!”
“With pleasure.” She giggled.
“Black! No plea-”
Pink was seized once more. This time with laughter. Her slave watched in amazement as Black's fingers scurried around the underarm of his mistress. He grew even harder in response to this incredible show. One beautiful woman wrapped around another. It pleased him immensely to see his tormentress in so much distress, he'd dreamt every night of doing unspeakable things to her. Really making her suffer.
Black's hand grabbed at her victim's ribs and massaged them vigorously, turning the laughter silent. Pink's legs kicked out weakly and she shook in Black's unyielding embrace. She had fallen to pieces. Her slave was sitting right there, watching her utter domination. Her power over him would have surely crumbled to dust now just as surely as her paradise had, invaded by this demon. She had nothing left here.
But still Black wanted more. The tickling continued unabated for minute after hellish minute. Tears streamed down Pink's cheeks. She'd been frightfully ticklish her entire life but never once had it used so painfully against her. She struggled against Black's hold but it was futile. For now, she belonged to Black, a woman almost 20 years younger than she was. It was an absolutely crushing feeling.
Black squeezed her thighs ever tighter and her relentless assault of Pink's side reached a truly frenzied pace. She leered at the reddening, sweating skin beneath her fingers.
“Give him to me and this will stop.” She hissed, clawing at Pink's skin.
Pink could barely breathe, she would have gladly submitted to end this disaster of an evening. But Black wouldn't quit. That hand ravaged her and robbed her of everything. Her dignity, her control and now her ability to speak.
That changed when Black's hand slipped further down and a fingernail entered Pink's belly button.
“FUCK! OH MY GOD STOP!”
The screaming was ear piercing, Black's eyes widened and she bit her lip as she buried her fingernail into that button and vibrated it round and round and round and round.
“BLACK! BLACK!” Pink was on the verge of a full blown panic attack and still Black didn't relent. Her finger had found a new home and it intended to stay for a very, very long time.
Black made a claw of her hand and attacked Pink's entire belly, the poor woman heaved and choked on the laughter so horribly forced from her. She wept in hysterics. It was drawn from her as sobs, utterly defeated sobs.
Pink heard the satisfied moaning and panting of her assailant increase as a rush of warmth flooded from between Pink's thighs.
“Take him.” She cried.
“Huh? Didn't hear you.” Black taunted, her thighs becoming a vice around the waist of Pink.
“Take... Him...” She croaked out, unable to breathe.
“This is what happens when you insist on doing things the hard way, honey.”
Black's tickling continued ever more ferociously. There was no laughter. There was barely a sound beyond fingernails scratching at sweaty skin.
“You've had him for weeks already, I guess this is what greed gets you.”
Pink caught a glimpse of her slave before slipping into unconsciousness.
Black released her and stood. She walked over to the slave bound and throbbing in his chair.
“So you think she's hot, huh?”
“I... Yes, she is, of course-”
“-Of course? That's what you like?” She pointed at the motionless Pink. “Dolls? Fucking*dolls?”
“She's... She's pretty.”
Black sighed. “How long has dolly kept you here?”
“I don't know, a few weeks maybe.”
“And that's never been satisfied, huh?”
He grimaced and lowered his head.
With the much needed vape back at her lips, Black looked thoughtfully between his desperately denied self and the sleeping Pink. She slowly exhaled a cloud as she bent forward and looked into his eyes.
“If I untie you, do you promise to be a good boy?”
Her eyes captivated him. He'd never seen such emerald eyes before. He simply nodded slowly.
“Would you like to make me happy?”
“Yes.”
She unfastened his straps one by one as she explained what she would like to see. He practically leapt from the chair when Black was done.
She perched on one of the chair's legs and settled a hand down her knickers, watching as her will was carried out.*She even lubed herself up for it.*Black giggled to herself contentedly as she fogged the room up.
It didn't take very long, as expected. He lay in a heap atop Pink, grunting and groaning in epic satisfaction. He rested and relished the feeling of his flesh against hers. Never in his wildest dreams could he have envisioned the events of tonight. Just a few weeks ago he had been homeless and now-
“-OW! Fuck what was...”
Something had bitten him right at the top of his leg. A sharp and focussed sting out of nowhere. He turned his head as his sight began to fade, he saw Black squatting down beside him.
“Night night.” She smiled and waved as he slipped into darkness.
She pulled him off of Pink and rolled him out of the way, then grabbed Pink's ankles and dragged her across the floor.
Moving as quickly as she could, she grabbed her handbag and pulled out a huge length of thin black rope. With expert hands she bound Pink's wrists behind her back and did likewise with her ankles, scooping them up behind her to cinch them together in a basic but effective hogtie.
Black's eyes wandered from Pink's helpless and oiled ass to the tub of experimental hell in her bag. She smiled.
Slipping on a disposable glove, she coated two fingers with that abominable cream and with great care, spread Pink's cheeks before inserting her fingers as deep as they could go. Black filled Pink with the stuff until it began to ooze out of her a little.*Good luck trying to wash that out, Pinky.
She sighed with contentment and wiped the gloves clean on Pink's upturned soles before packing her things away. She whipped out her phone and sent a text requesting an alarm call for Pink's room, three hours from now.
And locked the door behind her.
***
The voluptuous, sculpted body hung suspended from the ceiling by its ankles. Fur-lined, thick leather cuffs fastened snug around each one and were connected to a chain pulley system. That stunning body was hoisted into the air slowly, the rattling of chains the only sound to be heard as it was lifted painfully slowly, inch by inch high into the steam-rich atmosphere of the boiler room.
Her wrists had been strapped behind her and a wire was attached to her ankle cuffs, connecting to her wrists to hold them in place just above waist level. She wore nothing besides a sheen of sweat.
Well, that wasn't strictly accurate. She wore her suit of sweat in the stifling heat of this dingy basement room in addition to a mask. It covered her entire face, two large eyeholes rapidly fogging up with the steamy surroundings. A flexible hose attached to the area covering the unfortunate woman's mouth and that in turn was connected to a cannister.
On the other side of the room and with a perfect view of proceedings, Black sat by her pride and joy. Her Little Black Box.
A metal box, with just two holes for ankles and feet to protrude from and one much larger hole in the centre, just below the foot holes. Displayed in this hole was the unutterably beautiful ass and pussy of the Club's newest member undergoing initiation, Maria.
Black sat with the remote control for this box and tapped a button repeatedly, each press causing the metal clamps fixed around Maria's toes to spread just a little wider. She then pushed the joystick up to stretch the toes backwards and all but salivated at the sight of those feet. Such deep arches this new one had, and not even the most minute of blemishes to be seen.
At least not the usual sort. Black had seen her share of minor callouses and dry skin through the years but this was not what affected Maria's feet. No, Maria's soles, and indeed the sides and tops of her feet and patches around her ass and the visible parts of her upper thighs were marked with tiny pink dots. Thousands of them. A totally harmless but unfortunate side effect of Black's woolly bag treatment. Black looked at those dots and looked over to the hanging body, vaping away as she wondered which of the two ladies possessed the most scarred mind.
The tension in the air was palpable and Black was truly savouring the moment. The situation had been explained to both participants in this game around twenty minutes ago. The looks of horror on their faces had made her belly tingle.
The room was silent, for good reason. Maria had listened in terror as Black described to her in detail what would happen if Maria made a sound. Inside the box was a microphone, any noise Maria made would be relayed through speakers all around this room. The cannister connected to the mask worn by that unfortunate woman hanging over there would be activated by sound, above a certain level. Black couldn't remember the actual figure and had simply warned Maria to keep the noise down.
Once that cannister clicked into life, it would leak toxic vapours through the hose and into the mask. Black had grasped at her own throat and mocked choking to death before an appalled and terrified Maria, before she shut the lid on the box and set about fixing Maria's toes in position.
Maria had to make it through one hour without making a sound. One hour. Without making any noise whatsoever, trapped inside this stuffy box and with her bare feet totally helpless before a repulsive sadist the likes of which she hadn't known in well over a decade. She had managed to remain calm so far, just the odd whimper she caught in her throat before it was broadcast around the room whenever this bitch poked at one of her soles.
So far, just the occasional poke. But that poke told Maria all she needed to know. The fingernail was sharp, the finger itself strong and the touch was precise. Maria was sweating with a feeling she hadn't known in what felt like a lifetime. Dread. All consuming, soul destroying dread. The moment that finger, or those fingers kicked into action, that would be it. She would fail, hard. She couldn't even muffle herself with her hands as they were fastened away somewhere down by her hips.
Maria had no idea that Black was actually watching her, right now. To the top of the remote was fixed a small screen, it displayed the anguish on Maria's face beautifully. Suddenly her teeth were bared, they grit and her face became a mask of furious determination.
Black watched the screen as she traced the mouthpiece of her vape from the ball of Maria's left foot, down the valley of her arch and into the cushion of her heel. The journey had taken around four seconds and Maria's panting could be heard around the room.
Black leaned in and licked along that same path but in reverse and Maria gasped before snapping her mouth shut, tight.
Memories stormed Maria's mind. The helplessness, the tickling, the licking of her feet... She was a wreck. Her time in that horrific bag had bent her mind backwards and forwards over and over until it threatened to snap. She had so little energy left. This had been a terrible, terrible mistake. She should never have become involved with these maniacs.
A fact Black was reminding her of again, and again, and again, lapping away at her bare soles like a cat. Short, fast lashes of the tongue each one driving home to Maria how stupid she had been and how perilous her situation was now.
“Shit!” She wheezed out a screeched curse and muted it as best she could and she thrashed around in the box as fingernails sunk into the fleshy balls of her feet. And stayed there, poised. Ready to end the game for Maria.
“Please!” She whispered, praying for some semblance of mercy or compassion.
“Please! Stop this!” The urgency in her whispers increased by the second as those talon-like fingernails sank ever further into her taut flesh. Maria was frantic.
“Let me out! I have to go! I have AGH-”
Black's eyes widened and her breathing quickened, her heart pounded watching this strong woman bend so easily to her will. Her fingernails raked along the length of each sole. The faces this Violet made, they were so sexy. Her face screwed up and she looked like she was being racked with pain or pleasure. Or both. But she held her volume in check admirably.
The lid to the box opened with a hiss. Maria stared up at the face of her captor and her heart broke.
She now wore gloves, black and shining with some type of gel dripping from them. She rubbed her hands together with unrestrained glee and Maria trembled listening to the cruel texture of those lubricated surfaces rubbing against one another. Her stomach sank imagining the hell that was to come. She had no words, her lips quivered and she fought to steady her breathing as she was once more sealed in darkness.
Maria tugged at her wrists, pulling with all her strength. She tensed her legs and arched her back as she battled to break free of this hell. The darkness of the box was slowly overwhelming her, feeling more and more like a thick stifling blanket someone was holding tight over her face.
Black winced as the room was rocked by Maria's urgent and roaring screams. Her gloved hands effortlessly cut through what reserves of strength Maria had left and punished the beautiful, immobile feet with long and agonising strokes from the heels to the toes and not sparing one tiny spot in between. The tickling was so savage Black noticed her own feet cringing a little. Her face was a mask of joy, her tongue poked out between her teeth as she beamed a smile while brutalising Maria's feet.
Black bit the finger of one glove and tore it away from her hand, spitting it onto the floor before frantically thrusting that hand down between her thighs, abusing herself as furiously as she abused Maria's tortured sole. She sawed the ribbed and nodule covered palm of the glove into Maria's deep arch until the entire room sang with hysterical, inhuman wailing.
Maria wet herself and Black's climax tore through her with such force she had to stop the tickling to squeeze Maria's foot, bracing herself and screaming with shocked delight as she too made a mess of herself.
Moments later she stood on shaky legs and walked to the other side of her pedicure station, lifting the lid to reveal a distraught Maria. Her panicked breathing played all around the room.
“Didn't I say to keep the noise*down?*Jeez.”
“But how, what the... Oh my god, she isn't really-”
Black sighed. “-You knew the rules and then you went and broke them.”
Maria cried.*Holly! Oh my god...
“You couldn't control yourself and now... Well. I guess she didn't mean that much to you after all.”
The tears flowed profusely as a pain washed over Maria. Black looked down at her, smiling.
She checked the time on the remote. “Well the game may be over, but we still have well over an hour left here.”
Maria watched through bleary eyes as Black disappear from view. She heard the depraved creature rummaging through a bag and Maria's heart pounded when she reappeared, standing triumphantly with an infuriating smile on her face and a terrifying instrument in her hand. A wand vibrator with a huge head and a ribbed, devious looking attachment several inches long branching away from it.
“Oh, don't look so worried! These things are so much fun, believe me.” Black bit her lip and shuddered as she ran her hand over the vibrator.
“I'll be back soon. First let's see if me and my friend can cheer you up.” She shut the lid and locked it, leaving Maria to despair inside the gloom of Black's box.
Black took out her phone and hit a speed dial. She looked over to the hanging body by the far wall.
“Boiler room, I need a transfer to 2C.”
Black sighed as she walked towards the cannister, that room was unavailable right now. She knelt down and peeled away at the many 'Toxic' stickers she had used to cover up all evidence that the cannister in fact held Oxygen as she listened to what facilities were free for use. None sounded right for what she needed.
“Well the second it's free, let me know.” She looked back up at the beautiful, swaying body.
“Oh. And bring a bagging crew.”
***
Epilogue
There was a chill in the air as Holly was wheeled across the dew laden grass. The thick film which wrapped her so snugly rustled gently as the chair bumped along over uneven ground. Long, wet blades of grass caressed her bare toes. She squeezed her hands tight and looked down, covering one foot with the other.
The chair bumped into a rock concealed by the wild grass and the man wheeling her along cursed under his breath as he grabbed hold of Holly to prevent her spilling onto the treacherous path.*Why don't these things have belts?*He had often asked and was always told to just get on with it. So he did. He no longer asked questions and just did as he was told, when he was told. Settling his cargo back into position he resumed their journey.
As she rocked in the chair, Holly thought back to her time in the boiler room. She had kept her eyes shut, not that it had helped much. She remained aware that she was hanging in the air whether she could see it or not. It made her feel sick. And the 'game' that*beast*forced her to play with Maria... All but the faintest slither of faith she had left in humanity had been stripped away by it.
She'd heard Maria scream out in agony as that*sickening... Freak*did whatever she did and had shut her eyes and simply given in. Something within her just let go. Evaporated. The rules to the game had been simple – be quiet, or else. She didn't blame Maria... Couldn't blame Maria. It had been an unwinnable game. She actually felt peaceful during those moments after Maria's scream,*this is it, she'd thought. She still held her breath though. Her mind simply wouldn't allow her to voluntarily inhale poisonous gas.
Time eventually won that battle though, the last one she would ever fight. With a tear leaking from her eyes and down onto her forehead, she had taken the tiniest breath of her life, barely a snivel. She was expecting something to smell... But there was nothing. No smell. No choking, nor even any coughing. Long minutes passed of tentative breathing and nothing at all was occurring. She prayed whatever eventually happened to her would at least be painless.
Soon she noticed the face of their torturer looking up at her, she was on her phone to somebody and looking one moment at Holly and the next back to Maria. And she was*smiling.
Her hatred of this woman had been sealed forever when she watched her moving the gas cannister about. Holly had peered down at her quizzically as the can was disconnected from the hose and rolled onto its side. She peeled away stickers and Holly felt the greatest surge of anger and fury she'd ever felt in her life. Greater even than at any point during her captivity at Maria's.
Oxygen! The bitch! The utter, fucking... Ugh!*There just wasn't a word that did any justice to her. To it. Holly had to shut her eyes when this animal drew a line under that word, Oxygen, with her finger, looked up at Holly. And laughed. Holly couldn't remember genuinely wishing death upon another human being before that moment.
It was a long time before some men arrived at the boiler room to lower her down. They immediately began to wrap her in this green film. Holly offered no resistance. She looked over to the box Maria had been held in, it was empty. Next thing she knew, she was deposited onto this very wheelchair and taken through corridor after corridor until they entered a service elevator.
Thirty seconds later the doors opened and she was hit by the cold air of the great outdoors. The men escorting her had whispered to the man pushing her along now, she'd heard them call him “Grey” and they told him to “take her for a walk”.
She stared thoughtfully at the grass brushing by her toes and listened to the laboured breath of the man wheeling her across the field. He swore, a lot. She wondered if he was the gardener of this hell hole, he certainly dressed for the part.
He stopped pushing her for a while to smoke a cigarette, locking the chair's wheels. With his back turned to her, he lit it with a match and looked out toward the trees.
His free hand kept returning to the back of his neck and he sighed, frequently turning his head to look back the way they had come. While Holly could only catch glimpses of his profile, she could clearly see the distress on his face. He looked over to the trees again and stepped forward, shielding his eyes from the glow of the setting sun. Holly watched him. Suddenly the words*"take her for a walk"*seemed quite menacing.
He flicked the cigarette away and turned towards her, catching her eye as he did so. Holly's heart broke for him. His face bore the burden of what was no doubt years of torment. His right arm looked like it had been scratched viciously, and recently too. He was also blind in his left eye. This man, 'Grey', could so easily have been her own grandfather. How did he ever end up in this place?
He quickly lowered his head and broke the stare, whispering curses, and hurried back to the chair. The locks clicked off and they were back underway.
Bumpy moments passed and the long blades of grass which stroked across her feet were now gone. Tall trees cast gloomy shadows across the whole area. The ground here was well maintained, shovels were piled up against one tree caked with fresh earth and as they rounded a corner into a clearing, Holly, with a rush of nausea, discovered why.
***
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