Part II
I carefully observe the emerging dynamic among the women. They have been quiet
all day in the aftermath of 7's correction. Two of them, 2 and 8, have taken to
comforting the exhausted, battered girl while the others ignore her. I note with
some humor that all of my charges carefully keep their hands away from their
privates.
There is plenty of water in the cell, provided from a trough in a corner, but
they haven't eaten since arriving at the Camp. I want them hungry and irritable.
Part of my task, as I see it, is to motivate my prisoners to break the rules.
I fix nine small bowls of plain oatmeal, and place them in the dumbwaiter.
Return to my console, and trigger it into the room. Most of the women start at
the grinding noise, and watch with some trepidation as a panel opens in the
wall. Smelling the gruel, they quickly gather at the dumbwaiter, except 7 who
remains huddled in a corner. There is some jostling to get at the food, but all
eight retreat with a little bowl and consume it ravenously with their fingers.
One bowl remains on the dumbwaiter - 7's. I watch, amused, as they eye it.
'Carol,' number 2 says quietly to 7, 'Do you want to eat?'
'Fuck her, she's not hungry.' The redhead moves to take the bowl as she says
this. 9, one of the others that I have termed 'leaders', jumps toward the last
bowl as well. A fight ensues, and the two lithe girls battle viscously though
briefly. Cries from the others to stop go unheard. Number 3 ends up perched atop
the prone, smaller 9, yanking her head sharply back by her raven hair.
'Don't ever fuck with me, you bitch!' 3 yells over the pinned girl's yelps of
pain. She tosses her red hair back over her shoulder and slaps the girl's face
hard with her free hand. 'You understand?' Another powerful slap.
'Yes, yes!'
3 stands off her opponent, glorious chest heaving, and issues her a final kick
as she scampers away. 'Don't any of you fuck with me.' She glares about the
room, and the others cringe away. The redhead is a large, powerful girl, an
amazon of sorts.. it will be a pleasure to break her. I watch as she gulps down
the final bit of gruel.
They have rested long enough after the little meal. 'Number 2,' my voice booms,
startling them, 'Step to the door.'
'What? No!' she protests, moving towards the door none the less.
'Get your ass over there!' 3 screams at her, apparently having no desire to feel
the floor again. Most of the others stand, just in case.
'No!' number 2 yells again, reaching the door. 'Jackie ate Carol's food, not
me!'
I chuckle as the redhead yells at her to shut up. The door slides open. 'Number
2, follow the red line until you receive additional instruction.' She complies,
weeping as she walks along the line. I direct her to one of the correction
rooms, and have her collar herself to the wall. I return my attention to the
cell.
'Number 3. Move to the door.'
'No.' She states it flatly, not with the hysteria apparent in the other girl.
The others begin screaming at her to go. I wait.
I start with a low tingle. The others continue to yell at 3, hurling threats.
She stares belligerently into the camera, right at me. Slowly, steadily, I begin
to increase the shock. Even 7 finally struggles to her feet. My captives'
screams take on a note of pain. The big redhead gets in a good shot at the first
girl to approach her, but the others quickly overpower the woman. Slapping her,
yanking her flowing hair. They knock her down, continuing to beat her, and sit
and kneel upon her prone form, pushing her tender flesh into the biting current.
Their screams are like music, loud in my quarters.
Finally, they have her pressed against the bars of the door. I shut off the
current, and the others move back. Battered and crying, 3 collapses to the
floor. I slide the door open. 'Number 3, follow the red line until you receive
further instruction.'
'You bitches!' she screams. 'You fucking cunts!' 3 struggles to her feet, and
slowly moves down the red line.
She hesitates in the main chamber, looking about. In a quiet vice, through the
speakers in the chamber, I warn her, 'Any toe that leaves the line gets sawed
off.' 3 flinches at the thought, and continues woodenly down the line. I guide
her to the fourth room down the narrow hall, the wet room. She enters the tiled
space and slowly clicks her collar shut at my direction.
I relax for a moment, collecting my thoughts. A beating for 2, and something
much more interesting for 3 would be appropriate. I decide to restrain the
redhead first, then leave her to regain some of her fire while I stretch my
muscles on 2.
I stride purposefully into the wet room, sliding the door shut behind me, and
stand before my charge eyeing her battered body. Still simply magnificent. 'You
look a little the worse for wear. It seems your fellow prisoners don't
appreciate your headstrong nature the way that I do.' She looks at me sullenly.
I glance around the clinical, white-tiled room. It is rather small, and most of
the contents are, as usual, draped in storage. I shake the cover off a
free-standing frame and roll it into the center of the room. It gleams, all
chromed, an eight-foot high rectangle attached at the center of each long side
to vertical posts rising from the wheeled base. Check to make sure it is locked
in the upright position, as it rotates 360 degrees. Release the hydraulic
cylinder that raises the entire assembly, dropping the bottom near the floor.
I open her collar, and shove her towards the center of the room. She glares at
me. I instruct her curtly, slapping her face and tits at the smallest
hesitation. Stand her on the little platforms at the bottom of the frame and
strap her feet securely in. Suspension cuffs lock on her wrists. She shrieks a
bit as I spin her upside down to better stretch her as I fasten them. Quite
tautly attached to the frame, I spin her upright and leave her to consider what
will come next.
I hang 2 from the ceiling of correction room 1 by the wrists, her toes barely
able to touch the floor. She has been protesting her innocence since I entered.
'I know that, number 2. 3 is paying for that little transgression.'
Working the remote, I bring up a view into the cell. I also activate the monitor
there, giving them a glimpse of 2's naked, suspended body. Turn the audio from
this room on in both the cell and the wet room.
'All right ladies,' I say loudly, 'gather round. It is time for a brief lesson.'
They gather too slowly for my taste. 'Get your asses in front of the monitor,
NOW!' 2 flinches from my sudden yell, and the seven in the cell comply. I turn
to my hanging captive.
'Number 2, tell me how you broke the rules.'
'I don't know, Sir. I _didn't_ eat Carol's food, Sir.'
Shaking my head, I ask her 'You haven't a clue, do you? Let's play a little
audio for everyone's benefit.' I hit another button on the remote. 'This is from
your first day at Camp Treve.'
A beep precedes the sound. My voice. 'Earlier, I said you would pay for breaking
the rules of Camp Treve. I see that each of you has already done so. Each of you
bore a number on your right hip, and that number is your only identity here.'
'And these two statements, from earlier today.'
Another beep. 2's voice. 'Carol, do you want to eat?' Beep. 'Jackie ate Carol's
food, not me!'
'Whose voice was that?' My eyes are hard as I watch her. Her quiet reply comes,
'Mine, Sir.' 'Louder!' I demand. She complies quickly. 'How did you break the
rules, number 2?'
'I.. I used the girls' names, not their numbers, Sir.'
'You have no names. None of you have names, only numbers. Any use of a name by a
prisoner is a violation of the rules of Camp Treve. Do you understand, Number
2?' She nods. 'Say it.' She does. 'What is your name?'
'I have no name, Sir. I am identified only as number 2.'
I nod, satisfied. Shut down all of the audio and visual connections, leaving us
isolated from the rest. Walk down the wall, selecting a few implements. I can
feel her eyes on me. Turn back to her. Arrange my things on the table. Finally,
select a hardwood paddle and start to work on her ass. Not much for a warm up,
my first blow sends her toes skittering across the floor. She swings back to
center to meet the next strike. Her screams echo down the halls.
2's ass is a flaming red by the time I switch to a narrow-falled latigo flogger.
It's stinging blows rain down on her back, ass, thighs, belly, breasts. Driving
the air out of her. Relentless, rapid, heavy strikes. 2's erect nipples smacked
back into the soft mounds of her tits. I wrap around her sides, sending the
pointed tips speeding into her belly and crotch.
Her face is wet with tears, chest heaving, as I turn back to the table. Draw a
vampire glove onto my left hand and take up a long leather paddle in my right.
The paddle is heavily studded, blunt little posts on one side and pointed steel
pyramids on the other.
A solid blow to her red ass. A clear pattern of little red dots spring up on
her, where to posts have driven into flesh. The paddle elicits louder screams
from 2. Between blows, I scrape my left hand across the area just struck, and
squeals result. I coat her body with the little dots before flipping the paddle
over. The pyramids leave more distinct dimples, often showing blood in the
center. These, too, cover her by the time I am finished with the paddle,
concentrated on her ass and tits. I grasp her privates with my gloved hand after
the paddling, squeezing and kneading her tender bits. 2 squeaks and squalls.
I trade the paddle and glove for a rattan cane. 'Name a number.' 'Sir?' she
replies breathlessly. 'A number. Pick a number.'
'Five, Sir.'
'Let's add a one, shall we? I'll be nice and put it in front.' I move behind
her, to her left. 'Count for me. Count each stroke.' Suddenly, I swing the cane
into her ass, flexing my wrist for speed, cutting the first of fifteen sets of
parallel lines into her.
'One,' she whispers, after recovering the breath screamed out of her.
Number 2 locked securely back into the cell, I walk casually into the wet room.
3 looks up at my entrance, flipping her head to get the hair out of her eyes. I
note that she seems to have composed herself after the beating at the hands of
her peers, and her fire and cockiness have returned. Quite pleasing.
'You'll never wear me down. Fuck you and your little Camp,' she says, and tries
to spit on me. A little too far away. 'Do your worst, you prick.'
'Oh, you wouldn't want that, sweetheart.' I approach her, and trail my fingers
lightly down her torso, tracing the curve of one breast. Her stretched, firm
body is unable to pull away from my touch. This time, her spit is on target. I
casually wipe it from my face with one finger, and rub it off on her twat. Begin
to gently massage her there, rolling her between thumb and forefinger, until she
responds helplessly. I stop as she begins to thrust into my hand.
'Bastard.' She venomously hisses the word at me. I chuckle.
'Perhaps another time, number 3.' Look at her contemplatively. 'Of course, you
know well how you broke the rules. Tell me.' She glares at me silently, a sneer
on her face.
'You're much more stubborn than bright, aren't you 3?' I snap the tazer off my
belt, and flick it a couple of times. Its blue light dances before her eyes,
accompanied by a crisp crackling. I lower the silent unit along her body,
resting its electrodes against her crotch. 'Tell me.'
This is getting through to her. Her eyes are wide with fear, and there is a
tremble in her voice. 'I took number 7's food.' I look at her expectantly.
Glance down at the tazer, shifting it a bit, then back into her eyes. Realizing
her mistake, she quickly blurts out a correction. 'I took number 7's food, Sir.'
I smile at her and replace the unit back at my belt.
'Well then. Certainly, in retrospect, you realize that such a thing must be
against the rules, and a punishment is due. I think we can find something that
fits the crime.'
I wheel a squat, low machine over near her, and remove its cover. Its function
is not obvious.. it just looks like a box on wheels. Plug it into the wall
outlet. Retrieve a hose and run several gallons of water into the unit. The
power switch brings the display to life, and I adjust a control until the 'Temp'
readout shows 100. The number beneath is starts at 42 and begins to rise as the
water heats. She watches me suspiciously, uncertain what I intend.
Next, I retrieve a small armload of items from a drawer and arrange them on top
of the machine. A tube a lubricant. Several lengths of rubber tubing. A couple
of other rubber items. A shining metal device, curved in complex fashion and
padded in places.
I glance up and grin at her trepidation. The temperature display reads in the
60's and still climbing. Connect two pieces of tubing to little nibs on the back
of the machine. Into the opposite end of one, I plug one of the rubber items,
similar to a double nozzle though somewhat larger. Attach an inflator to the
plug. Push the other tube onto a small, heavy balloon and connect a second
inflator, one with a longer hose. I am ready, but the water is not. We wait
patiently for its temperature to climb.
'Let's begin,' I say to her with a smile.
'What the fuck are you going to do to me?'
'Well, let me show you.' I release the pivots on each side of the frame and
swing her face down, re-locking in that position. Taking up a finger of lube, I
massage it into her anus.
'Ahhh, you fucking pervert!' I laugh at her, thrust two fingers roughly up her
tight ass and begin twisting them about. She yells, but is helpless before me.
'Now, sugar, we can do this easy or hard. I'm going to place this up your ass,'
I say, dangling the nozzle over her shoulder. 'You can clench up and make me
shove it in, or you can relax. Your choice.' The slick rubber slides easy into
her, she wisely choosing to cooperate. I start to pump the inflator. The twin
bulbs expand, one outside of her, the other in. She yelps a bit more as it
relentlessly stretches her hole. Each bulb grows to the size of a tennis ball,
locking the plug in place and creating some measure of discomfort. And a tight
seal, by the way.
I swing her face up, body again parallel to the floor. Retrieve the metal device
and hold it over her head. 'Open your mouth.' 3 shakes her head vigorously from
side to side. I rap one nipple hard with the tips of my fingers and she cries
out. Repeating this every few seconds, I wait patiently until she spreads her
mouth wide for me.
I position the jaw spreader against her upper teeth and strap it securely around
her head. Pulling the allen wrench, which works as a key, from my pocket, I
begin to ratchet the spreader open. Carefully fit her lower teeth into the
padded receptacles and continue to turn the wrench. I lean into it, and 3 begins
to scream incoherently. Her beautiful mouth works its way open under the force.
Satisfied that she won't be closing her mouth any time soon, I return the wrench
to my pocket. The muscles at the sides of her jaw begin to jump as I swing her
upright by 45 degrees.
I take up the second tube and slather a heavy coat of lubricant on the balloon.
'Again, you can make this easy or hard. This,' dangling the twin tubes before
her eyes, 'is going down your throat and into your stomach. You can help by
swallowing, or I can get a piece of wire and shove it down. You decide.' With
that, I work the balloon into her mouth and start it down her throat with my
fingers. 3 works to overcome the gag reflex, and begins swallowing. I feed the
tube down her, pushing gently. After two feet or so of tubing have disappeared
down her throat, her continued swallowing has no further result. I stop pushing,
and she relaxes, looking at me with miserable eyes. I pump the second bulb a
handful of times.
'Now let's have some fun.' She tries to reply, but forms no meaningful words. I
swing her upside down again, and wheel the frame around so that she looks my
way. Work the lever on the hydraulic base, raising her.. I want her eyes where I
can see them.
At the machines controls, I flip two switches, starting a pair of small pumps
that hum quietly. Turn the dial marked '1', starting a flow of warm water into
her ass. Gently. She struggles a bit, feeling the water begin to fill her. A
digital readout shows volume passed, flow speed and back pressure, providing me
a great deal of information about her predicament.
3's lower belly starts to distend. This one pump would eventually fill her
stomach as well, but I think a second flow makes this less comfortable. I spin
the dial marked '2', initiating a flow through the second tube into her stomach.
She has taken on almost three gallons of water in total, and her stomach is
grossly distended, bulging out. I slap it playfully, hearing a satisfying slosh
from within her. As the pressure builds, 3 begins to grunt and scream
continuously. Finally satisfied that she is as full as she'll safely get, I turn
down both pumps. I check her mouth and ass, and pleasantly find the fluid to be
locked securely within.
'We'll let that stew for a bit.' 3 shakes her head from side to side as I leave
the room, retreating for a leisurely snack in my quarters. I watch her
squirming, stretched tightly and hung upside down, pumped full of water, as I
eat. Everything seems to taste better in such situations, and I take my time.
'Let's shake you up a bit, 3.' I unlock the pivots and start to jostle the
frame. Loud sloshing noise come from her belly, and her screams intensify. I
begin to spin her rapidly up, and then down. Although the frame can't spin
freely around without pulling the tubes free, I am quite strong enough to speed
her across a 180 degree range.
Her face is bright red, and 3 is having obvious trouble catching her breath. For
the screaming or the dizzying motion, I am unsure. Eventually, I stop her
upright. Release the hydraulic, lowering the frame again. Retrieve a flogger
from a drawer.
I enjoy floggers a great deal, and have some variety. Most that I own are quite
harsh. This selection is a long rubber flogger, with nine thick, square fall.
The stiff, sharp corners of the rubber tend to cut nicely.
Since it protrudes so wonderfully, I start with her belly, slamming strokes into
her pearly skin. The impact causes her to twitch violently. 3 marks extremely
well, and soon has dozens of bloody lines running across her front. I spend some
time on her tits, and then her ass. I end some thirty minutes later with an
unpredictable flurry of hard, rapid strikes to all three targets.
'One final little thing before I let all of the water gush out of you, sugar,' I
say pleasantly as I swing her upside down again. 'All of this beating has me
wound up.' I pump her upwards, stopping when her chin is waist high.
Stand in front of her. Unbutton my fly and let my hard cock flop out before her
eyes. Rub it about on her face. Slide my member into her stretched mouth, into
the warm, waiting hole. Mute her protestations by thrusting down her throat. I
mouth rape number 3 with great vigor, slamming my cock into her, my balls
flopping into her eyes. Finally, I pull back and come over her face. She is
sobbing, and her tears mix with my come, both running into her dangling hair.
'Hmmm.. since you are upside down already, lets start here.' I stand to the
side, take up the bulb that trails from her mouth, suddenly release the air and
pull. As it deflates, the balloon is pulled down from her stomach and out her
mouth.
A torrent of murky water, speckled with bile and bits of oatmeal, sprays from
her open mouth and her nose. Choking and coughing, 3 tries to regain her breath.
I swing her upright, and release the air valve on the nozzle. It shoots out of
her ass, still mostly inflated, followed by a second torrent of water, this one
more fetid. She screams, as it no doubt feels her bowels are being yanked out.
Several blats follow the water, the air from both tubes. 3 is shuddering
uncontrollably from the experience. When I let her down, she collapses in her
own filth. I spray her and the room clean with icy water, and must carry her
back to the cell. I believe I am becoming rather fond of my fiery redhead.
End Part II
