THE COLLECTOR

THE COLLECTOR

Time to meet his other trophies as preparations for the evening commences.

Chapter Three

       Glancing toward the monitor, slowly shaking his head as the office door opens; he nods while practically whispering toward his assistant as she enters the room with her hands already sliding down across her bare chest, the unfastened straps from behind her neck between her fingers.  “She’s slipped off the peg… Keep your clothes on.”

       His assistant’s breasts fully exposed, round symmetrical globes with perfect oval areolas, the nubs of her nipples pierced without jewelry at the moment, she shrugs with just a hint of a groan as she slowly slips the black straps back up behind her neck.  “Want me to go back then and take care of her?... Remount her… Sir?... Then come back?”

       “Looks like she’s just about out.”  Motioning toward the monitor, glancing back at his assistant, he adds.  “Take a syringe… Drop her to the floor and keep her out for awhile… Then we’re remount her later for this evening when we’re having our guests over, got it?”

       “Yes Sir… Then?... Do you want me then?”

       “Then meet me in there with her.”  He nods toward the center monitor; toward the image of one of the other pair of trophies he still processes.  “I’m going straight to her cell… Let her know what she’s facing tonight.”  He adds as they both watch her erratic movements across the monitor’s screen.

       Naked with the exception of a shimmering latex bondage sleeve securing her arms firmly behind her back they watch her image as she’s pacing back and forth in the small cell.  “She’s also going to be mounted, but on the poled podium in front of the mirror in the foyer… In her black latex… I want to make sure she’s ready for the bidding tonight.”

       “Yes Sir… I’ll just be a minute with her after I get the syringe.”  She answers as she nods toward the swaying image on the other screen as she turns, obviously disappointed to leave the office.

       Glancing from one monitor to the other, snatching the empty glass from the desk top, he steps toward the bar for one more refreshment as he’s left alone.  A couple slivers of ice, a little less orange juice, a lot more vodka and again swirling his index finger around the inside rim of the glass, chugs the screwdriver, ice and all.  Tossing the glass in the sink while again glancing at the bondage sleeved girl on the monitor, stepping through the doorway, he heads for her cell.

       Pacing haphazardly back and forth in her eight inch stilettos, her arms numb behind her back in the taut bondage sleeve, her huge augmented breasts ache from their unnatural firmness as they dominate her slender body, especially with her ongoing torturous waist reduction.  Her glistening globes thrusting apart but practically straight outward off her chest like a pair of symmetrical tubes, her constantly hard and thick nipples barely jiggle as the pair of silver dollar sized brass nipple rings brush across her thick areolas.

       Barely able to concentrate, to think for any length of time in any logical order, the constant cocktail of drugs administered to her has her mind in an almost constant haze, her insides in turmoil, especially between her thighs, in her womb.  The images of the reflections in the mirrors she’s occasionally posed intentionally in front of doesn’t even seem to resemble anyone she knows, especially herself.  One long dreamscape or nightmare for God knows how long since she’s been going through her modifications makes her existence almost robotic with her arms kept confined behind her in the ever compressing bondage sleeve and her feet always forced into at least eight inch tall stilettos.

       No clock, no calendar, the only human contact involving either pain, modifications or medications, no sunlight, not even knowing if it’s even day or night leaves her in her twilight zone environment, forced to submit as she’s morphed into a cartoonish caricature of herself, her already exotic dancer quality body constantly being modified.

       The door to the cell opening, he steps inside behind her as she slowly turns, lowers her head, her dark hair in a bun as the frayed ends stick to the top of the glistening black bondage sleeve.  Between medications, her mind somewhat coherent, at least relative to how she’s been, raising her face her glazed eyes stare toward him as her naked, obscenely large breasts barely sway from side to side before again thrusting straight outward.

       “You’re being mounted in the foyer tonight after you’re made up whore… The duel orifice phallus pole.”  He almost causally mentions as he slowly steps in front of her, cups both melon sized breasts in his upturned palms.  “Both will be injected twelve inches deep this time, you’ll be taking the whole load… Vagina and Anus.”  He adds as he glances into her nearly vacant eyes.

       “Also the eighteen inch waist cinch corset… Black nylons… Twelve inch stilettos.”  He continues as he lets his index fingers slide inside the oval rings, enjoys describing her forthcoming torment.  “Bondage hood and neck stretcher… Understand?”

       Her eyes still glazed, his words taking time to sort out in her mind, she slowly realizes most of what he’s saying.

       “I said… Do you understand?”  He firmly asks a little louder as he twists his fingers, loops her nipples in the twisting ring.  “Answer me!”

       Her lips barely moving, sensing the pain in her breasts, instinctively realizing the pain will not only follow but escalate, her head almost automatically nods pleadingly back and forth as she whispers, stutters just the opposite of her headshake.  “Ye… Ye… Yes Sir… Sir!... I… I under… Understand… Sir!”

       “Good!”  He briefly smiles.  “You’re going to look fantastic for our guests tonight… Aren’t you?... Maybe even be introduced to a new owner… Understand?”

       Again barely forming his words in her mind, trying to comprehend, she feels her breasts stretched outward toward her sides by the twisting nipple rings, the sensation of pain moments removed from the deed as her treatment takes time to register.

       “Ooooh!”  A slight whimper, her mind somewhat comprehending his words, she slurs.  “Ye… Yes Sir… New owner… Owner tonight.”

       “That’s right.”  He nods as the door opens behind him.  “Get you made up and mounted… It’s going to be a long evening of showcasing you tonight… Finding you a new home.” 

       The assistant stepping in, he glances back toward her as he releases the nipple rings, palms and gently massages both solid globes as he softly speaks.  “I just told her she’s going to be the center of attention tonight… She says she wants the full twelve inch phallus tubes in both of her orifices, the twelve inch heels and the eighteen inch waist cincher… With of course the bondage hood.”

       “Yes Sir… The usual for the big auction.”  She answers with a smile while holding the empty syringe up in her left hand.  “I’ll have her looking incredible for our guests… Sir!”

       “Good then!”  Turning, giving the bound girl’s left breast a playful smack, he steps past his assistant and out of the cell, back up the hallway.

       Thinking to himself how another liquid refreshment’s in order, then a nice nap before preparing for the evening’s activities, he strolls toward his office.  Walking past the glass partition separating the hallway from the chamber with the latest abducted, glancing in toward her naked backside, he thinks how just hours ago she was giving him a lap dance, teasing, tantalizing him with her naked body in her own seedy environment.  He smilingly recalls how she was in control of what he was allowed to do, how she teased with her breasts, letting just the tip of his cock to penetrate her as she strutted her naked body across his lap.

       Now, glancing around her through the glass, watching the reflection of her trembling front side from the full length wall mirror she’s facing, he watches her disoriented, agonized expression as her shagged bleached hair brushes across her forehead.  He thinks to himself how she has that same unbelieving look they always have after seeing themselves after the first night, of how she can’t comprehend how her breasts have been pierced with skewers, or her taut body’s being stretched by the guide wires pulling on her breasts, clit as she’s forced to balance on one aching leg or hang by her tits.  Now she has absolutely no control on how that same naked body is being used, will be used.  Now she’s tantalizing him his way, in his environment, her body to with as he pleases, and he will until he tires of her, like all the others. 

       Her eyes momentarily locking with his through the mirror, the unbelievingly pleading expression through her tear filled eyes as drool flows from the ‘O’ ring spreading her lips, he gives a sarcastic nod and continues up the hallway filling pretty good.  Entering the office and straight to the bar, mixing, finishing his favorite beverage, he kind of meanders to his bedroom, to the king sized bed, flops across it.  Letting his eyes shut, he drifts off. 

       A slight buzz, a quiet rest, and waking up and glancing at the curtain and the shadows in his bedroom he realizes at least a couple or so hours have passed.  Getting up, freshening up, splashing water across his face in the cluttered bathroom, he steps over to his office.  Flicking the monitors on he watches the bound and disoriented girl still trying to deal with the skewers impaling her discolored breasts and struggling under the guide wires to balance, already having experienced the affects of slipping from the peg.  Flicking the monitor to the foyer’s camera, the image of the all black latex suited girl mounted on the podium positioned in front of the hall’s full size mirror focuses in.

       Just a quick glance and he realizes she’s already been perfectly mounted, her shiny black stilettos almost ballerina style spread at least three feet apart on flat, round pegs adjusted several inches up from the floor.  Her legs spread in the black nylons running up to just a couple inches below her spread thighs, the double phalluses mounted on a single stainless steel post impale her shaved orifices with her brass clit ring connected to the bottom of the sloping ‘V’ of the latex corset.  The top of the impossibly cinching corset disappearing under the bottom curves of her thrust out breasts, the black single sleeve bondage garment wraps around her drawn back shoulders, exposing the outer curves of her separating globes, its straps connecting to the bottom of the bondage hood and its full length neck collar.

       Eyes and ears covered by the form fitting hood, only her lips yawning around a glistening black ‘O’ ring exposed, the matching set of large brass nipple rings quiver from her thick nipples.  Head firmly tugged back by a chain connecting the top of the back of the hood to an eyelet sewn between the elbows in the bondage sleeve, she’s virtually a living mannequin.

       Stepping away from the monitors, thirsty, another bottle of vodka to open, realizing there’s barely any orange juice left, he tops the iceless glass off with a little more vodka.  Three, four gulps and the empty glass is tossed in the sink, again.  Stepping back to the monitors, flicking the camera on to the third trophy’s cell he zooms in on her naked body kneeling on the stone floor, leaning back against the wall with her wrists fastened behind her chocker collar chained to a hook above her head.  Her body similarly modified like the other girl’s, the heavy ‘O’ rings glisten from her nipples and clit.

       Leaving the office, strolling down the hallway he arrives at the cell door, swings it open.  He watches her eyes darting toward him as he walks in, the apprehension, uncertainty instantly showing across her face.  Not like the other girl, she’s been weaned from the drugs for over two weeks now.  Her shoulder length hair allowed to start to grow back in, dark roots with the outer edges still showing signs of bleaching; he stares back into her dark brown eyes until she’s intimidated into lowering hers.

       “Face me… Look at me!”

       Twisting, leaning out from the wall until the short chain rattles tightly between the eyelet and the side of her collar, she begins to groan as she shuffles around on her knees.  Her more then grapefruit sized breasts hard, firmly swollen show barely any signs of movement, maybe just a tinge of a jiggle as her youthful face turns almost pleadingly toward his, the thick, heavy ‘O’ rings piercing her nipples hanging stiffly out from her areolas without even swaying.  No makeup, eyes a little puffy as she shows signs of fatigue, frustration and she’s still naturally quite attractive, actually at the moment would make quite a snapshot for a bondage ‘lady in distress’ magazine cover. 

       “Open your mouth… Wide.”

       Staring down toward his crotch as she tentatively parts her lips, realizing what he’s going to use her mouth for again while frantically watching his hand slowly unzipping his zipper, she barely closes her eyes before a harsh spurt of urine squirts across her face.  Tightly squinting, gurgling as the hot liquid splashes across her eyes, forehead, up her nostrils, she almost chokes as she forces herself not to gag.  Humiliating swallowing quite a bit of the vinegar tasting urine, she feels the rest splashing in spurts across her bare chest, her obscenely augmented breasts, drenching her thick nipples as the continuous hosing covers the front side of her naked body, streaking down off her bare flesh, splashing across the stone floor beneath her.

       Another short spurt or two directed across her mouth as he presses the head of his semi swollen shaft against her still puckered lips while twisting her head back by her wet hair, his thighs pressing against her drenched globes and he slips a few inches of his thickened shaft down into her throat.  Another final burst, her body lurching as she gags for breath and he slips his cock out from her mouth, he’s finally done.  Hearing the door shutting as she remains virtually motionless on her knees, finally barely opening her burning eyes she disgustedly twists her hands behind her head, her wrists chaffing in the damp cuffs as she glares down across her drenched flesh.  Urine dripping from her matted hair, off the nipple rings dangling from her huge, heavy breasts, off her clit ring; she remains kneeling in the pool of urine beneath her knees, just like she’s been forced to do before.

       Leaving his zipper open on the front of his damp trousers, heading for the office, he’s satisfied he has room for another two or three vodkas before freshening up before the guests begin arriving.

End Part 3