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Chapter Ten
Scully came round slowly. She felt relaxed. Incredibly
relaxed. It was as though every cell in her body had been lovingly
massaged. She was… Her return journey to consciousness was completed with a
start and the horror of her situation hit her once again with the force of an
express train. She was a captive. The helpless victim of a
group of men intent on turning her into an obedient sex slave. How the
fuck could she be feeling so relaxed?
The FBI agent sat up and took in her surroundings. She was still in the
training room where she had been forced to suck and be sucked and the fully
trained slave slut called Chilli was still there, waiting patiently on all
fours, but the sick freak who had forced her to eat his cock was no longer in
the room. Thinking fast, Scully recognised a great opportunity to get some
useful information about her surroundings. “Quick, before he comes back, tell
me what you know about this place and how we might be able to escape,” Scully
asked of her naked companion. “For example, how…”
Her questioning was cut short, however, by a sharp slap in the face
from the naked women in front of her. Chilli then followed this up by placing a
finger to her lips, a stern expression of reproach on her face. “No,” Scully
pleaded, “don’t do that. Don’t give in to these madmen. Don’t give up hope. We
can still get out of this hell. We can…”
Her attempts to reason with the tamed bitch who
had so recently sucked her cunt and made her cum were ended, however, when
Chilli reached for the red ballgag that had been used
to silence Scully during her first cuntlicking
episode earlier that day and, with a surprising amount of speed and strength,
leapt onto the disobedient redhead.
Scully attempted to fend off her attacker but Chilli had absolutely no
intention of playing fair and a punch to the FBI agent’s solar plexus soon sent
the air rushing out of her lungs, leaving her mouth wide open. With the gag
inserted and buckled and Scully still in no position to fight further, the
Hispanic pet then attached a leash to the collar around the redheaded bitch’s
neck and began to pull her out of the training room. Scully attempted to rise
to her feet to follow her tormentor but the Latin lovely was having none of
this and immediately pushed her charge back down onto all fours.
Thus Scully was once more led around the bitch training complex like an
obedient little pup, her mind once again in a whirl. Why had the Hispanic girl
failed to respond to her questions? Were the sluts kept as servants here really
so well trained that they had fully accepted their fates? Would she too one day
be brought to such a high state of obedience?
After a short walk Scully was led by her naked temporary mistress into
what appeared to be a large communal bathroom that contained several bathtubs
and shower stalls. The room also contained five people. Scully recognised the
man who had introduced her to her fate the previous evening as he turned to her
and smiled. “Hello there, little bitch, so you’ve finally woken up then?” he asked.
“My colleague tells me that you came harder and longer than any new bitch he
has ever trained, so I suppose you deserved a little break. But now it’s time
to proceed with your training. We have a visitor to the training centre today –
someone who is most eager to meet you. But first you will have to be suitably
prepared.”
With that Harold gestured to the naked Latin bitch who
had brought Scully to the bathhouse and the Hispanic lovely soon had the
redheaded animal positioned in one of the bathtubs. She then began to bath
Dana, gently but firmly lathering soap into every nook and cranny of the
reluctant young woman’s naked body before rinsing her off with a shower
attachment.
As she was groomed, Scully used the opportunity to take in the scene
around her. Apart from herself and the naked woman who seemed to be taking
every opportunity to caress her in an intimate fashion and the trainer the four
other people in the bathroom consisted of two pairs of naked sluts – with one
of each pair methodically bathing the other. Scully recognised Sugar (“No!
Margaret, her name is Margaret,” she reminded herself once more) from the
previous evening but the other three women were strangers to her.
After greeting her, Harold had fallen silent and so the bizarre bathing
ritual continued in silence until all three sluts being groomed were completely clean. The bitchmaker
then had all six women line up before him in the standard ‘display’ position.
He inspected them slowly and thoroughly, taking every opportunity to handle their
firm tits and curvaceous, pouting asses.
“Right,” he began, once he was satisfied that every slut in the room
had been properly prepared. “You, Chilli, take these three back to their cells
and then report to the dispatch centre for further orders.” As he said this he
gestured at the three naked women that Scully had failed to recognise. “Whereas
you, Sugar, and you, Rusty, you come with me. Now get down.”
The tall blond creature that had once been a successful lawyer and a
champion of women’s causes obeyed instantly, falling down onto her hands and
knees in preparation for a leash to be attached to her collar but Scully stayed
standing, temporarily confused by the orders she had just heard. Rusty? Who the
hell was Rusty?
Harold smiled at her confusion. “Yes, I do mean you, little one,” he
said, peering deeply into the bewildered redhead’s eyes. “Dana Catherine Scully
died two days ago. You are now, and will forever more be the obedient pet bitch
called Rusty. I suggest you get used to it. Now, DOWN!”
Rather than bring more pain upon herself at this command Scully dropped
onto all fours and was soon leashed and crawling once more behind her owner,
albeit this time with another naked pet for company. As she went through the
motions of obedience, however, her mind was in a reel. Her enforced renaming,
although seemingly a small thing on the surface, was
having a profound affect on the abducted FBI agent. “They’ve even taken my
name,” the tormented women thought to herself. “They
don’t intend to leave a single shred of what I was before my capture left in
place, do they?”
Chapter 11
Distracted by these thoughts, Scully was too preoccupied to immediately
take in her surroundings as she was brought into a large room and found herself
up on her feet and posed in the basic ‘display’ position before she even
realised that her short journey had come to an end.
“So here she is,” said a voice behind her, but Scully was far too well
trained, even at this early stage, to turn around to see who had spoken. “That
FBI bitch who had been starting to give us such
serious trouble.”
“Yes sir,” Harold replied, his deferential tone a very marked contrast
to the dominant persona he instinctively adopted when addressing a captive
slave bitch. “We took her two days ago – this is only her first full day of
training but I can tell you that she is already progressing very rapidly
indeed.”
“Is she now?” the owner of the other voice enquired, coming into
Scully’s view for the first time. She saw a silver haired man in late middle age
wearing an old fashioned pinstripe suit and radiating an aura of confidence and
control that could only mean one thing – power.
“So how many cocks has she had up her so far?” the older of the two men
asked. “None, yet,” Harold replied. “She has sucked one cock and had her pussy
licked twice but her first fucking is scheduled for later this afternoon –
unless you would like to do the honours yourself, of course!”
“Well now there’s an idea,” the older man said, laughing, as he
approached Scully. “She really is a beauty, isn’t she, and you say she’s really
a repressed nympho?”
“Oh yes, absolutely,” Harold said, nodding. “You should see her cum –
it’s like watching a champion bronco bucking to shake of its rider!”
Scully blushed as red as a fire engine to hear herself spoken about in
such tones but she remained silent and in position, her hands clasped behind
her neck and her legs spread wide.
“Is that so?” said the old man, moving to within touching distance of
the posed submissive. “Maybe that’s why you’ve been giving us so much trouble.
Maybe you were subconsciously looking for a dominant male to teach you some
proper manners.”
As he spoke the man stared deeply into Scully’s eyes and the captive
woman could not repress a shudder. The eyes she was staring into were not those
of a human being, a person who would understand emotions such as love,
compassion, pity. No, the eyes of the man who, it seemed, would shortly be
raping her were those of a machine. Cold, calculating.
Pitiless.
“Yes, I think I will have her,” the man in the pinstripe suit said to
Harold the pet trainer. “Please leave the two of us alone for a while. I’ll
call you when I’ve finished with her.”
“As you wish sir,” the pet trainer replied, before leading the blond
bitch Sugar out of the room on a leash.
The old man stood in front of Scully, taking in the truly magnificent
view of a once haughty bitch that had been taken down a peg or two. He reached
out and began to roll one of his captive’s pouting nipples between his fingers,
noting with a smile how rapidly the taut little bud became hard. “Oh yes, you
are quite the slut, aren’t you?” he said, almost in a whisper. “I’m sure you’re
going to give me the ride of my life.”
Scully stared back at the man who was about to violate her, terror in
her eyes. She couldn’t move – he would hurt her if she did. And, besides, only
a couple of hours previously she had vowed to pretend to be as obedient as
possible in order to win her abductors’ trust and maximise her chances of
escape. This sickening old man was soon going to stick his prick up her cunt
but she was simply helpless – unable to do a single thing to prevent this
atrocity from taking place.
“Position 12,” the old man barked, and Scully’s intensive training
session that morning meant that she had adopted the required pose before she
fully realised that she had been given an order.
Position 12 involved a slut bending over and grasping her ankles, with
her legs spread wide, giving anyone who wanted to take advantage of the
situation full access to her cunt and asshole.
Her latest assailant circled her slowly, taking in a view that, in his
world of sexual sadism, rivalled that of the
“Now, my dear, I’m going to warm that delicious backside of yours up a
little before your cunt gets to see some action,” he warned his victim, looking
down at Scully looking back up at him between her legs. “But you will hold your
position until I say otherwise and you will not speak or even cry out because
if you do I will activate your implant and you will feel pain several orders of
magnitude greater than anything I can inflict upon you with this little riding
crop.”
“He has an a ‘master’ implant, of course he
has a ‘master implant,” Scully thought to herself, gritting her teeth at the
suffering that she was undoubtedly about to endure. “I must obey. I must stay
in position and remain silent. I must.”
The first stroke from the riding crop, when it came, brought an
involuntary gasp from the doubled up recipient but she held her position and
tried to analyse the sensation. Yes, it had hurt but, as the man had said, the
pain was nothing like the suffering-beyond-agony that Scully had several times
suffered when her ‘slave’ implant had been activated. “I can get through this,”
she thought to herself. “I can get through this.”
There was a long gap between the first and second strokes of the riding
crop on Scully’s perfect, ripe bottom as her tormentor took a moment to admire
his handiwork. The first stroke had left a bright red welt across her buttocks
and it was truly a work of art as the red of the mark contrasted perfectly with
the snowy whiteness of the slut’s backside.
The old man laid a regular pattern of stripes with the riding crop on
the upturned ass of his nubile young victim and then reached between the legs
of the redheaded slut and gently began to stroke her pussy lips. After a minute
or two of this treatment he then began to whip Scully again, before once again
returning his attentions to her cunt.
After the individual pain signature of the first stroke, the subsequent
lashes had begun to merge into one great well of pain in Scully’s mind and she
hardly noticed the start of her captor’s more amorous ministrations at first,
at least not consciously. As the regular pattern of pain from the riding crop
and gentle stimulation of her cunt continued, however, Scully became aware of a
strange sensation. The pain in her ass was transforming into a weird kind of
heat and that heat was beginning to move from the outer layers of ass flesh
into the centre of her cunt.
As this process continued Scully’s involuntary gasps of pain at the
beating she was receiving began to transform themselves into short moans of
pleasure. Noting this with pride the old man temporarily in charge of her
training thought to himself: “Well, I may not be a
young man any more but I can still bring a submissive little bitch to the edge
if I want to.”
And with that thought he decided that it was time for a good hard
fucking. “Slut, position six,” he commanded and Scully, in spite of the
advanced state of mental confusion that her recent treatment had brought about,
was soon posed as ordered, down on all fours with her forearms pressed down on
the floor and her ass raised high.
Her face was pressed down into the ground, as she had been trained, but
behind her Scully could hear the unmistakable sound of clothes being shed.
“It’s going to happen,” she thought in a panic. “I’m going to be fucked, raped,
by this filthy old pervert. Oh God, no.”
If God heard her silent prayer he decided to ignore it, however, and
Scully soon felt the erect prick of her rapist pressing against the lips of her
pussy. The old man then paused for a second, savouring the moment of victory,
before thrusting forward and burying his cock in Scully’s cunt up to the hilt.
He moaned in pleasure at the tightness of it and then began to thrust
in and out at a regular pace, noting with considerable satisfaction that, in
addition to being suitably tight, the cunt of the troublesome FBI agent that he
and his organisation were currently in the business of taming was suitably
moist.
Scully, meanwhile, was busy praying for death. But not because the
forced entry that she was currently experiencing was causing her physical pain;
indeed, quite the opposite was true. The combination of the riding crop and
gentle caresses on her pussy earlier had left her wet and ready for a good ride
and that’s what she was getting. Once again her mind recoiled in true horror
from the way in which her body was betraying her. She was being raped. By a man old enough to be her father. By a man who had
mercilessly beat her with a riding crop just a few
moments before. And she was loving it. Or, rather, to
be more precise, her cunt was loving it.
After several minutes where her pussy was relentlessly filled with
pounding cock Rusty the slave bitch, the slut who had once been FBI Special
Agent Dana Scully, felt the mother of all orgasms begin to rise out of the very
centre of her being. She was going to cum, and cum harder than she had ever
done before. She was going to cum after having been abducted, physically abused
and then raped. As her rider spilled his seed into her and Scully’s orgasm hit
like a tsunami the horny redhead for the first time truly understood what fate
had in store for her. She had to escape and escape soon or, she realised with a
sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, her captors would be able to convert
her into a willing slave bitch, obedient and docile and hungry for her owner’s
cock. There was a part of her being that was a slut, a nymphomaniac, she
acknowledged for the first time. Otherwise how could you explain the tremendous
orgasms that she was having in captivity?
As her rapist rolled off her with a satisfied sigh, Scully stayed
frozen in position, outwardly silent but inwardly screaming and screaming and
screaming as she was introduced to a very special part of hell.
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