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THE FUNHOUSE
Another abducted, Tracy’s already well into her servitude training. A few short weeks and she’s about to be displayed at her first social gathering of a group and sadomasochists taking place at her Master and Madam’s estate. The night will bring her not only pain but a glimpse at what a couple of her acquaintances are going through.
Chapter Three… Tracy
Virtually naked, Tracy stands silent and motionless in the foyer, actually more of a small rotunda of the mansion, where she’s put on display for the arriving guests. Facing toward the mosaic stained-glass double door entrance, arms firmly at her sides with her shoulders arched back, her hands remain lifted upwards with her elbows pressed against the outline of her ribcage. Fingers, thumbs cupped beneath her bare breasts support the firm globes, separating and lifting as her hollowed stomach gently slopes outward with each breath. Six inch black stilettos, a snug fitting black chocker collar, she’s otherwise completely nude with her body bathed, shaved and oiled. Her slick dark brown hair drawn strictly back across her scalp into a tight bun, the bright red lipstick glistening across her moist lips, her rouge, eye shadow model quality, her overall preparation’s impeccable.
As she obediently stands in her instructed position her mind flashes back to just over a few weeks ago, of the partying with her friends during spring break without a care in the world, then came the carnival, the funhouse and their abductions. Hogties, multiple rapes, and then virtually sold into slavery, now somehow she finds herself surreally subjected to the decadent lifestyles of a sadistic Dominatrix and her husband, a foreign dignitary, living on their secluded estate, him home only on weekends and holidays
Quickly introduced to their equally cruel demeanors and their swift and precise punishments, the patrolled grounds and guard dogs surrounding the mansion, the past weeks have been a continuous nightmare of training and discipline, sexual abuse and ‘exercise’ sessions. Her will to resist, her urgency to escape already severely compromised, just a brief jolting demonstration of the sadistic effects of the chocker collar affixed around her throat since arriving the very first day made it painfully obvious that her only option was to submit and even more, instantly obey, just as she already has done on a number of occasions to a variety of their debauched cravings.
The door opening with another couple entering, the cold breeze chills her bare flesh, light Goosebumps spreading across her exposed breasts as the doorman takes the guest’s wraps. Her thoughts snapping back to the present, eyes remaining straight forward, she forces herself to remain rigid, maintain her condescending fixed smile toward the couple as they brush by. The breathtakingly beautiful dark haired woman exquisitely attired in a plunging black satin gown and matching stilettos obediently steps past with her arms down toward her sides, chest thrust outwards, the obvious silhouettes of nipple rings recognizable through the stretching fabric contoured around her large, braless breasts.
The woman’s eyes briefly rising to barely glance around the house, a hint of foreboding’s obvious before she again lowers her head as she’s escorted by the obviously dominant man toward the parlor. As they brush by, Tracy can’t help wondering how her own nakedness, her acquiescent, even subservient appearance and attitude seem to be so blasé to so many of the guests. Then again, this being her first involvement with this type of gathering, she’d been informed earlier by the Madam that her group of guests tonight take turns rotating the ‘event’ to showcase their new ‘stock’.
Glancing toward their reflections in the glistening hall mirror beside the entryway, hearing a murmur from the already present guests, she watches the black gown dropping from the woman’s shoulders, the man unstrapping the back, letting it slip to the floor leaving the woman virtually naked. Noticing the doorman watching, returning to her fixed position, she glances toward the door again opening, another couple entering.
Another strikingly attractive young woman, a redhead, and another impeccably attired man allow the doorman to accept their warps. The same looks as they step by, the knowing smirk of the doorman followed by another round of murmurs as her gown’s discarded near the parlor’s entrance as Tracy catches the reflection of that now naked woman’s backside from the mirror as she’s led into the group, the obvious remnants of faded whip marks crisscrossing her shoulders and buttocks. Assuming her stance, the chill of the air not the only reason for her sporadic shivering, again her mind wanders, thoughts of what the evening’s going to bring, what else her role’s going to bring.
Just a couple minutes and the doorbell again, feeling the cold breeze rippling across her bare flesh yet again, she focuses toward the entry way. Startled, at first glance she recognizes the two beautiful Oriental girls being led in by a pair of Oriental men, unbelievingly her friends that had been abducted with her those so few weeks ago. Both wearing long silk kimonos, impeccably made up, she’s quickly horrified at their nude body’s modified appearances as they’re stripped virtually naked from their single garments in the foyer. Their arms bound firmly behind their backs, the twines of brilliant white rope starting at their wrists coils upward to just below their armpits, pressing their elbows tightly together arching their shoulders impossibly back. Their now huge breasts obviously augmented spread outward, swaying as they’re led forward.
Unable to stop staring at their naked bodies, one’s lavishly tattooed with brilliant colors of beasts and other forms of Oriental art from her neck down to her thighs; the other’s displaying multiple brandings across her torso. Both with piercings of their nipples and vagina’s, their perfectly made up faces bordered by their sleek, jet black hair can’t conceal the dullness, blank stares of their eyes as they both remain almost stoic as they’re led past, toward the parlor in their six inch stiletto heels.
More mutterings, a stirring of the group and Tracey watches disbelievingly at the reflections in the mirror as the girl’s naked bodies are surrounded by the guests, hands touching, exploring the terrifying yet erotic human artwork. Heart pounding, quick thoughts of what could be happening to her other friends barely flash through her mind as she feels the queasiness in her stomach, the realization of these two friend’s transformations sinking in.
“Tracy!’
“Yea… Yes Madam?”
“I see you’ve gotten to see a couple of your friends again… The other two came from another vendor.”
“Yes Madam.” She answers, eyes lowered as she reflexively squeezes her fingers, sinks her thumbs into the bases of her own outthrust breasts. “I… I see them.” Keeping her eyes lowered, fixed on the waistline of the Madam’s stark black leather outfit, she can feel her pulse rising, the uneasiness in her stomach as she listens to the stern voice.
“Well now… See how well you have it with us, girl? “ The Madam scowls. “Just remember what that body of yours could look like if you didn’t behave.” Glancing back toward the parlor, the group around the pair of Orientals, she slips her index finger, thumbnail around the stiff nub of Tracey’s right breast as she twists away toward the parlor. “Tell you what though… Nipple piercings and maybe a tattoo or two would go well on these, wouldn’t they?... I said wouldn’t they, Tracy?”
“Yes… Yes Madam if you liked.” Almost a whimpering answer, Tracy hears her own voice agreeing, just like she’s learned to do, regardless of the question or its consequences.
“Well, then.” Again turning, the woman adds with a smirk. “You don’t seem too pleased with that idea do you?… But anyway, that’s the least of your worries this evening… In a few minutes you’ll be introduced to one of our guests when he arrives… Actually he’s going to be the last to arrive for the evening… A personal friend visiting us for a few days from the homeland… He’s cruel, but I expect him to be pleased with your obedience, understand?”
“Yes… Yes Madam.” Nodding her head as she lowers her eyes, she nervously answers. “I… I understand.”
“Very well… He’ll be here any minute to prepare you… He’s going to entertain us with what he does with you tonight.” The Madam replies as she slowly shakes her head, walks toward the door. “I hope you don’t mind waiting outside for him… Follow me Tracy!”
Stepping past the doorman as he swings open the left hand door, out into the damp, chilly night air, the Madam turns just at the far edge of the entranceway. Glancing up towards the misty droplets of moisture dripping sporadically from the gently swaying fringe boarders of the overhanging canopy, she commands. “Right here… Stand right here beneath this with your fingers interlocked behind your neck, on the collar… Arch… Legs spread, push those titties outward.
Obeying, stepping outside, spreading and arching her naked body while facing down the steps toward the edge of the curved driveway Tracy feels the thick, misty air, the cold dampness immediately clinging to her bare flesh. Goosebumps spreading across her firm global mounds, nipples puckering on her shriveling areolas, the crisp air practically burns at her lungs as she struggles to catch her breath from the cold as the Madam crosses her arms, slowly shakes her head back and forth.
“Tracey… I told you where to stand… Now step forward a little further… Position yourself under the edge of the canopy… Just so the water drips across those titties… And stay that way until he arrives.
Slipping the toes of her stilettos just across the edge of the top step, she feels the slight swirl of the breeze. The first cold droplets of water send shivers across her chest, occasionally splashing across her bare breasts, streaking downward and dripping off her quivering nipples. Shivering, chewing at her bottom lip, she stares into the darkness toward the widely spaced driveway lamps leading out toward the gateway’s guard shack down around the artfully manicured shrubs.
Hearing the door shutting behind her, left alone, she grips the neck collar between her squeezing fingers, the cold numbing her naked body as the minutes pass. The moisture begins to mix with occasional specks of sleet swirling in the stiffening breeze, sticking to her bare flesh. Quickly dissolving, melting from the little warmth resonating from her out thrust breasts, it mixes with the other drips of water tracing downward, across her trembling navel, collecting between her spread thighs, slowly dripping between her feet.
Barely able to hear inside the house, wondering what she meant by saying she was going to be used as entertainment, what he was going to do to her, feeling the aches of the cold, wet precipitation coating her bare flesh, her breasts practically numb along with her lower extremities, she catches a glimpse of headlights slowing at the guard shack, the barking of a couple of dogs.
Heart racing, shivering, she can’t keep her eyes from the approaching limousine as it slows to a stop in front of the steps. The rear door opening to the dark colored stretch Bentley, the man steps out, glances toward the house. Stepping to the rear of the motorcar, he retrieves a black satchel from the chauffer opening the trunk. Again glancing toward the house, eyeing the canopy, he methodically makes his way up the thirteen steps.
The closer he gets, the more ominous he appears. Big, dark, wearing a dark overcoat and Russian style fur cap, gripping the satchel in his left hand, he stops near the top step, stares directly into Tracy’s eyes. Grunting, reaching out with his right hand he cups her left breast in his palm, twists and squeezes the cold wet globe while slowly nodding.
“Oomph!” A grunt as Tracy barely twists, his fingers digging into her cold breast.
Glancing toward her bugling breast, sliding the satchel onto the wet concrete he reaches inside his coat pocket, slips out a number of dark, thick elastic bands. Sliding one over her outthrust breast, slipping it under his gripping hand, he lets it snap around her wet tit flesh.
“Ohhh!” Another moan as she squirms, glances toward her stinging bare breast as he slips a second band just inches in front of the first, flexing it open, letting it snap around the firm globe. “Gaaad!”
A third, forth and finally a fifth band snapped across her discoloring breast quickly forms it into a tubular shape, each spread elastic band about an inch or so apart, the spreading areola darkening behind the flattening nub of her nipple. Palming, bouncing the bound breast, glancing into her tear filled eyes, he smiles as he slips his hand across to her right globe.
Squeezing, slipping bands across that breast, each flexing snap brings another grunt from the stinging pain as she clenches the collar behind her neck. The elastic mounts, digging into her wet cold flesh until both discolored breasts stand out and separate, the swollen nipples dark and hard. Stepping behind her, lifting her arms upright and bending her wrists behind her neck, shoving her elbows closer together up above her hair, slipping another band up over her hands, he lets it snap across her wrists behind her head. Slipping another, then another band down from up over her elbows, letting the elastic dig into her arms, pulling them tighter together, he finishes binding her arms forcing her head forward, her chin just above her twin discolored mounds wobbling off her thrust out chest, water dripping from both.
Stepping back in front of her, giving each breast a slight smack while watching the tubular shaped melons bounce, he picks up his satchel with his left hand, firmly slips his right hand between her thighs, with his thumb and forefinger twists her around by her stretching labia. Leading her to the door as it swings open, the doorman takes his satchel. Stepping inside, releasing Tracy’s aching vulva as he slips his coat off, he glances into the parlor toward the approaching Madam, a smile on her face.
“Well… I see you’ve met him, Tracy!... Nice little touch already, Hugo.” She grins as she lets her index finger roam the bands stretching around Tracy’s bound left globe. “Boy, these wet ‘ol titties sure got cold in a hurry, huh girl? Glancing toward his satchel with a knowing smile she adds. “I figured they’d sting a little more if you worked ‘em wet and cold… And I see you brought your satchel, good!”
“You know your way around the house, freshen up… You can meet us down in the chamber.” She advises him. “The other four new girls are already there with their Masters and being prepared; I’ll take Tracy with me and let the guests follow.”
Just a nod and he picks up his satchel as the Madam taps Tracy on her cold rump, practically whispers. “Come with me girl, he sure doesn’t talk much does he?” Turning toward the parlor and her guests, allowing Tracey to follow, she glances back as Tracy’s bulging, discolored breasts painfully bounce as she struggles in her stilettos. “Those tittles aching girl?... The night’s just begun for them!”
End Part Three
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