Previous Chapter Back to Content & Review of this story Next Chapter Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home

Review This Story || Author: Harold Sheep

The Subjugation of Scully

Part 2

Admin hitlist for Wednesday, May 31st:

The Subjugation of Scully

 

Chapter Six

 

“Grasp your hands together with your fingers entwined,” the trainer told Scully. “And then put your hands behind your head.” A by now thoroughly terrified FBI agent complied more or less instantly. “Now take a step forward,” her tormenter continued and his new pet did so straight away, until her tits were almost touching the bars that separated them.

 

“No, not quite like that,” Harold said, reaching through the bars and moving Scully’s hands from the top of her head to a position where they were clasped together at the nape of her neck. She flinched slightly at the first touch of her captor but was too paralysed with fear to pull away properly. “Now, push your elbows backwards as far as they will go… Good girl, now stand with your legs about two feet apart… Excellent, now look down at the floor. Never make eye contact with me or anyone else in charge of your training without permission.”

 

With Scully now suitably posed, Harold took a step backwards to survey his latest plaything once more. Normally he waited until his new pet in training was stripped completely naked before teaching the animal some basic display positions but the red-headed bitch in front of him looked so alluring in a combination of skimpy black lace lingerie and three inch heels that this time he decided to break his own rule.

 

“This is position one, or ‘display’,” Scully’s trainer explained. “Whenever anyone commands you to ‘adopt position one’ or ‘display’, you will instantly pose yourself in this fashion. Do you understand?”

 

Once more, Scully nodded dumbly, a look of utter misery on her face. Harold then pulled a small walkie-talkie out of his jacket pocket and spoke into the device, “Send in Sugar now please.”

 

A few seconds later there was a click and the door behind Scully’s trainer opened and a young woman carrying a tray walked into the cell. Scully gasped in astonishment at the sight – not least because she recognised the woman. Her name was Margaret Johansen and she was one of the women whose mysterious disappearance Scully and Mulder had been investigating prior to the FBI agent’s abduction.

 

Scully’s mind raced to remember as much about Margaret Johansen’s background as possible. She had been a lawyer, a rising star in the legal firmament, having won several high profile cases where powerful captains of industry and politicians had had their careers ruined after having been found guilty of sexual harassment in the workplace. But then one day she had simply vanished.

 

And now, here she was, obviously a fellow captive in this madhouse. The young woman who had just entered Scully’s cell was completely naked apart from a pair of six inch high heels and a black leather dog collar around her throat and the redhead noted that the report’s of Johansen’s beauty had not been exaggerated – she was simply stunning. Nearly six foot tall in her heels, she had ash blond hair that fell nearly to her waist, a magnificent pair of gravity-defying tits and legs that went on forever.

 

“Put the tray on the floor and adopt position one,” Harold told the naked blond. The voluptuous slut did so immediately and was soon posed in exactly the same manner as Scully in a position that displayed her many charms to maximum effect and allowed her owner full access to any part of her body that he wished to play with.

 

“I think I see from your expression that you recognise Sugar here,” Harold said to Scully. “Or, rather, to be more precise, the independent human being that Sugar used to be before she was allowed to benefit from my training programme.”

 

Harold moved to stand in front of the posing blond and gently slipped his hand between her legs. “She’s been with us just about six months now and is almost ready to be delivered to her new owner, who just so happens to be one of the wealthy industrialists whose life she made rather more difficult with her endless sexual harassment lawsuits. I understand that he intends to keep her in the same kennel as his German Shepard, Bruno.”

 

As he spoke the pet trainer began to gently stroke the tall blond bitch’s pussy and in just a few seconds this treatment brought forth a low moan of lust from the animal being handled.

 

“How in the name of God can she react that way?” Scully asked herself, gazing in amazement at the scene playing out before her. “She’s just been told that she is to be handed over to some sadist who intends to keep her in a cage with a dog but all she can do in response is get off on some pervert who’s stroking her cunt.”

 

“I know you don’t believe it now,” the pet trainer said, turning away from his blond bitch back towards Scully. “But in just a few short weeks you will be every bit as responsive to the touch of your superiors.”

 

At this Scully wanted to shout, to scream her independence but she had already had enough shocks from her slave implant to understand how futile and painful such defiance would be. So she continued to stand there, posed like some ten dollar lap dancer, her shame and humiliation burning through her cheeks.

 

Harold returned to stand once more before his new redheaded plaything, amazed at the level of self control that she was able to exert. Most new pets had descended into blind panic long before this and had to be shocked almost into unconsciousness in order to bring them back into line. But this one was a clever one, and a brave one. She hadn’t panicked. She had clearly understood that obvious signs of resistance would be a complete and extremely painful waste of time and had decided to play along, for the time being.

 

The human animal trainer pondered this situation for a moment. A slut who co-operated more or less fully from the beginning of its training was both easier and yet, in some ways, more difficult to tame. The ones who fought the hardest were, in actual fact, often the easiest ones to bring to the state of total, unquestioning obedience that was required of them. It was a simple question of Pavlovian conditioning. Inflict enough pain on a bitch and the obedience required to make the pain go away becomes instinctive. Couple this negative conditioning with mind-blowing orgasms when the slut is well-behaved and you soon have an eager little pet on your hands. Clever sluts like Scully, who appeared to be much more docile and submissive on the surface, however, were often much harder to break because their superficial level of obedience kept their lives relatively pain-free and gave them more time to think, to plan defiance and, ultimately, escape.

 

“Still,” Harold thought to himself. “No slut has ever outfought or outthought me yet, no matter how hard they have tried. And my 100% success rate ain’t going to be broken by this cunt!”

 

While her tormentor had been musing Scully had spent her time gazing at the floor, as instructed, and taking in the contents of the tray that the tall blond woman had brought into the cell a few minutes earlier. This contained a pair of six inch high heel shoes, identical to the ones the blond was wearing, a black leather dog collar that was, again, exactly the same as the one being worn by the former lawyer, and two dog feeding bowls, one of which appeared to contain water and the other some kind of formless mush.

 

“Now, my pet, I want that bra off you,” said Harold, snapping out of his reverie and returning to the task at hand. “Take it off, drop it onto the rest of your clothes and resume your display position.” Scully did so immediately, despite the yawning chasm of fear in the pit of her stomach as her tits were revealed for the first time.

 

“Excellent,” her trainer continued, after a few more seconds of delighted contemplation of the succulent flesh now seductively displayed in front of him. “Now I want you to turn around 180 degrees and pull down your panties. Drop them on the pile too and then resume your position once more, except this time facing away from me.”

 

At this Scully nearly baulked but just stopped her involuntary rebellion in time and was soon revealing her perfect, apple-shaped ass cheeks to her ecstatic abductor. “Memo to self,” Harold thought, as the sight of Scully’s truly luscious ass almost caused him to faint, as most of the blood in his body rushed into his prick. “Must make sure that I am the one who gives her her first ass fucking.” Then, without a word, he picked up the six inch heels from the tray and slid them through the bars. “Your shoes off, these ones one,” he ordered peremptorily.

 

Once Scully was suitably shod her trainer ordered her to turn around once more and drop her hands to her side. Then he picked up the dog collar from the tray and, slowly, began to buckle it around the kidnapped FBI agent’s neck. As he did so he gazed deeply into the redhead’s eyes. This act was hugely symbolic for the pet trainer and probably the moment he enjoyed best in the whole taming process. Looking into Scully’s eyes he saw fear and hatred but he knew that, one day soon, these emotions would be replaced by lust and adoration.

 

“There, that’s better,” he said, standing back to admire his handiwork. “Now resume position one.” Scully obeyed and then stood there, in the classic display position of the slave-bitch, heeled, collared and available for use. “Time to teach you another position,” Harold said, after another few moments spent allowing himself the luxury of drinking in the magnificent view. “When I say ‘down’ or ‘position two’ you drop down onto all fours, legs well apart, gazing down at the floor as usual. Now, bitch, ‘down’.”

 

Scully complied with the instruction and, once she was in place, her trainer pushed the two dog feeding bowls from the tray towards her. “You won’t be aware of this because you have, of course, spent quite a while unconscious lately, but it is quite late in the evening now and your first proper training session will have to wait until tomorrow morning,” her owner explained. “So first of all you will eat and drink and then get a good night’s sleep, because I can assure you that tomorrow will be VERY hard work for you.”

 

Scully gazed down at the two dog bowls. She knew, without being told, that she was expected to eat and drink like an animal, without using her hands, and so, temporarily broken by her ordeal, without further ado she began to do so. The mush in one bowl tasted like… well, mush, and the contents of the other bowl was simply water. Suddenly realising how ravenously hungry she was Scully wolfed down the contents of the two bowls in just a few seconds, much to the delight of her captor, who had noted approvingly how she had not needed to be told how to eat and drink like a little bitch.

 

“Now go and relieve yourself,” Harold said, nodding in the direction of the litter tray. At this Scully once again almost baulked. After all the humiliation she had suffered since this sick pervert had entered her life the idea of going to the bathroom in front of him was somehow the worst thing that he could have suggested. Her owner noted this, however, and for the first time in quite a while activated her implant, sending her writhing to the floor in agony. “Remember, slut, no thinking or defiance, just obedience,” he admonished, and Scully was soon scuttling across her cell to squat over the litter tray in the corner.

 

“Good bitch,” her trainer crooned once she had finished. “Now, lie down in this,” he added, pulling out a thin blanket from one of his jacket pockets and pushing it through the bars. Scully did so, although the rough material of the blanket appeared to be hardly preferable to sleeping on the hard concrete of the floor.

 

Scully’s captor continued to watch her as she curled up in the blanket, while the naked blond pet who had brought in the tray continued to stand as posed, looking down at the floor with no apparent interest in Scully or, indeed, her owner. “What is he waiting for?” Scully asked herself, before noticing that she was suddenly feeling extremely sleepy. “It’s the food, they’ve drugged the food,” she thought, before slipping into blissful unconsciousness.

 

Chapter Seven

 

Wade Davies surveyed the clipboard he was holding. “Redheaded bitch in cell 26 – take to training room B and administer first fucking in captivity,” the orders he had just picked up from the trainer dispatch room said. He whistled to himself as he strolled down the corridor towards his prey. He too, like Harold Sheep, was an ex-military man who had discovered that the job of abducting and training young women as sex slaves was right up his street.

 

“Send slut Honey to training room B with the following equipment,” he said, speaking into a walkie-talkie pulled out of a jacket pocket, before reeling off a list of items that he thought he might need to bring this new puppy into line. Entering cell 26 he discovered a slut still fast asleep – which wasn’t at all unusual given the quantity of tranquilliser she had consumed with her evening meal last night. But that didn’t mean that he could waste half the morning waiting for her to wake up of her own volition. “Time to wake up bitch,” he shouted, which brought Scully back into her current world of pain with an abrupt start. Sitting up the FBI agent moaned in fear as the events of the previous evening came rushing back. “No talking!” Wade warned, although, to be fair, the bitch had not actually showed any signs that she wanted to communicate in anything resembling human speech. “Use your litter tray right away and then we’ll be off.”

 

Scully sat for a few moments, her head bowed in misery as the knowledge that what had happened to her the previous day had not been just a terrible nightmare. Then, once again accepting that obedience was undoubtedly the most practical option for the foreseeable future, she squatted over the litter tray until her bowels were empty.

 

“Crawl over to the door of the cage on all fours,” her new tormentor said, and Scully quickly obeyed. Wade then produced a key from his pocket and unlocked the door in the bars that divided Scully’s cell into two. He then produced a dog leash from another pocket and bent down and attached it to Scully’s collar.

 

“Now, just in case you’ve forgotten any of your basic instructions from yesterday, there is to be no talking and instant obedience to any order given to you, do you understand?” Scully’s latest trainer asked her. The redhead nodded dumbly in acceptance, wondering bleakly to herself if this simple act was to be the only way in which she would be allowed to express a thought or opinion ever again. “Excellent,” said Wade, smiling, before giving a sharp tug on Scully’s leash and leading the petite bitch puppy out of her cell and towards her fate.

 

As the pair walked along the corridor outside her cell, Scully forced herself to stay calm and try and learn as much about her surroundings as possible. The corridor appeared to contain about 30 cells, 15 to a side. The far wall was just that, a wall, with no doors or other features, whilst she was being led towards a set of metal bars that appeared to lead to another corridor that ran perpendicular to the first. It was, in fact, just like any other jail, she thought. Her trainer opened a door in the bars with a key and then locked it again behind them. After a short walk (although Scully’s knees were already beginning to hurt since she was not, of course, at all used to crawling around on all fours) they then entered a room that had ‘training room B’ on the door, she noted.

 

Inside the room was a tableau that instantly etched itself permanently on Scully’s brain. The room they had entered appeared to be a bizarre hybrid of torture chamber, doctor’s surgery and gymnasium and, in addition to numerous pieces of equipment, it also contained a naked Oriental woman, posed with her hands clasped behind her neck and her legs spread wide in what the FBI agent was rapidly learning was the natural position of a well-trained and obedient slut. And once again, Scully realised with a start, it was the case that she recognised the petite Asian because she had also been on the list of female abductees whose disappearance the FBI had been investigating. She was (or had been, Scully reminded herself ruefully) one of the most successful young business people in the country. Chee Moon-Leng, that was her name, Scully thought. She had dropped out of high school at 16 but that hadn’t stopped her making her first million by the time she was 20 and at 25 she had been heading rapidly towards her first billion, due in large part to an aggressive style of management and ball-breaking deal making that had made her no friends in the traditional, male-dominated business establishment. But then she had gone on a sailing holiday and had simply never come back. And now here she was, just another puppy in the kennel of bitches being kept by the shadowy government organisation that Scully had once sworn to destroy.

 

Scully’s train of thought was broken by a sharp tug on her leash, however, as her trainer ordered her up and into the kind of chair used by doctors for gynaecological examinations – but with one important difference. This chair, as Scully soon discovered, had leather straps that were soon used by her captor to restrain the FBI agent’s wrists and ankles.

 

Fear had become a virtually permanent companion to Scully since her capture but she felt a deeper pang of dread at being restrained for the first time. What agonies did these bastards have planned for her now?

 

“You start working on her tits whilst I get her shaved,” she heard her captor say to the young Oriental who had remained silent and motionless whilst Scully was restrained in the examination chair. The naked Asian slut then came over and looked down into Scully’s eyes. The redhead looked back into the dark brown almond shaped pools and saw none of the anger and fear that should have been there but saw, instead, an expression of pure lust.

 

“Quickly now, Honey, get to work, those tits look like they are in desperate need of some stimulation” Wade admonished, and the former businesswomen tore her gaze away from Scully’s and began to contemplate her heaving bosom instead.

 

Scully had never had any lesbian experiences and had never even dreamt of having her breasts handled by another women. Her tits had, indeed, only ever been fondled by the extremely small group of long-term lovers that she had had and their generally inexpert maulings had not left her with the impression that her breasts were a particularly responsive erogenous zone. As the Asian slut bent forward and took a nipple gently into her mouth Scully was, therefore, astonished to feel a sensation of pure pleasure run through her body. As she worked the nipple of Scully’s left tit into her mouth, Honey reached her left hand round and began to gently fondle the redhead’s right breast, sending more shockwaves of pleasure through the restrained women’s body.

 

“I can’t be enjoying this,” Scully thought to herself, desperately trying to maintain her sanity as she was erotically caressed by the naked Oriental. This is rape. Women don’t enjoy rape. And I’m not a lesbian. I don’t want to be touched by another women. I can’t be enjoying this.”

 

It became harder and harder for Scully to concentrate on these thoughts, however, as the flawless and succulent flesh of her firm tits was expertly manipulated by a slut who was a true expert in how to arouse women and who had been extensively trained to devote her entire being to bringing pleasure to another, when necessary, with no thought for her own satisfaction.

 

Wade looked on, smiling, as he detected the very first signs of a mental crisis in Scully that would, one day soon, bring her to the very brink of surrender. He recalled the words of his teacher, back when he himself was being trained as a slutmaker. “Women in modern society are brainwashed virtually from birth to believe that physical pleasure in a sexual act is impossible without consent,” his tutor had explained. “And the shock to the psyche that they experience when we begin to demonstrate to them that this is not actually the case is one of the most important weapons we have. Once a pet in training realises that we can make her cum, and cum, and cum again, whether or not she wants us to, she begins to doubt the image of herself that has been imposed by society. ‘Maybe it’s true, maybe I really am a perverted little slut,’ she begins to think to herself and that thought is often the hole in the dyke that we can use to bring the dam to the point of bursting.”

 

Looking down at the amazingly erotic sight of the naked Oriental pet expertly teasing the titflesh of the bound woman, Wade noted with glee that the expression on Scully’s face was exactly what it should be at this stage in her training. The undoubtedly pleasurable physical sensations that she was experiencing were, somewhat paradoxically, causing extreme mental anguish in the soon-to-be-obedient pet bitch. “And this conflict is being produced just from a little tit action,” Wade thought to himself. “Now, I think it’s time to introduce myself to this cunt’s cunt.” And, with that, he strolled around to the far end of the examination chair where FBI Special Agent Dana Scully’s naked pussy lay exposed and helpless, completely at the mercy of her captors. And they, of course, had no mercy…


Review This Story || Author: Harold Sheep
Previous Chapter Back to Content & Review of this story Next Chapter Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home